A/N: I want to get this fic done! I am determined! Oh, and I just got a fictionpress account, btw. Under the same penname, of course. See, me and my friends come up with CRAZY Idina/Taye stories, and I figured, what better place to post them? I'll be putting up some stories in a few days ... so PLEASE, people. Go check them out. Now, it's Fic time. (P.S. -- I LOVE MoJo. That's not some kind of random fact, it's a warning.)

Maureen woke up the next morning with a killer hangover. Joanne, who would have usually been at work by now, was sitting next to her. She was holding a plate of eggs, a glass of water, and a bottle of Asprin. When Joanne saw that Maureen was awake, she smiled and placed the tray on the bed.

"Honeybear, you okay?" Joanne asked, planting a small kiss on Maureen's forehead. "By the time you came into bed last night you were drunk. No, you weren't just drunk, you were bombed." Joanne's expression became much softer. "Maureen, forgive me if I'm wrong, but you're not the type of person who just gets drunk out of nowhere. Did something happen?"

"Joanne, if you know anything about me, you'd know that I get drunk all the time." Maureen sat up slowly, moaning and grabbing her head. "Give me that Asprin."

Joanne rolled her eyes. "Here." She sat Maureen up a little bit more then helped her down the pills and the water. "So nothing's wrong? There's absolutely nothing that you want to tell me?"

Maureen rubbed her head. "Give me a minute, Pookie." She fell back against the pillow, not noticing the hint of a smile threatening to show on Joanne's face. "Oh God, what happened, now? Okay, let me think. Mark was here. And then he went into our room. He told me something ... Oh my God, the audition!"

Joanne laughed. "He told me the bare bones of the idea. Fill me in, please."

"There's an audition the morning after my fucking protest," she said. Slowly, the reality of the situation began to hit her -- Well, it had hit her when she was drunk, but that didn't count. She sat up and her eyes filled with tears. "Joanne, my God, this isn't right. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't just stop the fucking protest, I advertised it. I even put up God-damned posters. But this could be my Broadway debut. Broadway, Joanne, the whole reason I moved to New York." She looked at Joanne helplessly. "What do I do?"

Joanne opened her arms, and Maureen fell into them. "Honey, this isn't a decision I can make for you. I can help you, but I can't do all of the work." She stroked Maureen's arm lovingly, kissing the top of her head. "How about you eat something? Maybe we can take a walk, or you could take a walk to think, then we can talk about this. Okay?"

Maureen cuddled into Joanne even more. "Benny only gave me a day to decide."

"Okay. But you still need to eat."

Maureen smiled. "Okay." She grabbed the eggs and took a bite. "I don't know why the hell I'm hungry after drinking a bottle of vodka and a bottle of wine last night, but I am."

Joanne chuckled. "Baby, I'm gonna go grab myself some food. You need anything else?"

"No thanks," Maureen said, and Joanne stood. "But hey, why aren't you at the firm?"

"I quit," Joanne said. Maureen choked on her egg. "My God, I'm kidding. I took the day off, I called in sick yesterday," Joanne explained. "I thought I had the flu, but apparently I only had one of those 24-hour bugs. I feel fine, but I need a day off anyway."

She smiled, and started for the door, but once again, Maureen stopped her. "Hey, Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?" Maureen asked with a pure smile on her face.

Joanne beamed. "Of course, Sweetheart. I love you too."

-

After a while, Maureen's headache subsided, and she went to sit with Joanne on the couch. She wrapped herself up in a blanket to block the cold December air, and also had a cup of tea.

"So Maureen, let's look at this problem logically," Joanne said. Maureen tried to discretely roll her eyes, but Joanne saw. "Mo, I'm serious. I don't mean we have to think about this until we despise the entire concept, but we should at least try to think about it in the most organized way we can."

"And you're saying that you won't be doing all of the work."

"Maureen, please, we can't argue about this." Joanne sighed. "How about we look at pros and cons?"

"Whosawatsit?"

"The good and bad characteristics of each one," Joanne patiently explained. "Good stuff first. What's good about this audition?"

"Oh, lots of things," Maureen said. "It's an open audition, so anyone can enter, meaning you don't have to have much theater background. Which I don't. (A/N: I'm not sure if you have to have experience or not for an open audition ... just go with me) Also, there's a chance that I'll make my debut on Broadway if I get this part. And I'm sure I'll get it. My voice rules!"

"Yeah, Mo, you have a great voice. No doubt you'll get the part if you try for it." Joanne nodded. "Alright. Bad things?"

"I may not get the part," Maureen said glumly.

"Um, hello, didn't you hear me?" Joanne asked, exasperated. "I said that you'll most likely get the part!"

"But there are going to people at the audition who have better voices than I do," Maureen said. "And I may fuck up royally when I go in, or I might get too nervous to even go. Or I might get scared in front of the people I'm auditioning for." She sighed. "Joanne, this is freaking me out."

"Honeybear, your call. You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Joanne reassured. "Okay, let's move onto the protest. What's good about it?"

"Alrighty, then. Well, I wrote it, so it kicks total ass." Joanne glared at her. "You helped too, sheesh. So, we wrote it, and it's for a really good cause. Well, was for a really good cause. Benny gave the tent city a new place to set up." She shrugged. "What's the point of even doing this protest anymore?" Maureen's eyes widened. "I'd just be making an idiot out of myself. Oh my God, there's no point!"

Joanne winced. "We weren't on the bad things yet, but, Honeybear, there is a good reason for doing this protest." Maureen raised her eyebrows. "Baby, I've lived here for God only knows how long. I've never seen another vacant lot before! Where'd Benny say it was?"

"Um, let me get the paper Mark gave me," Maureen said. She reached to the small coffee table next to the couch and grabbed the paper off of it. She quickly scanned over it. "Eleventh and Avenue C."

"By the Cat Scratch?"

"Yeah, Pooks, why?"

"Is he kidding?" Joanne said, a look of disgust on her face. "That lot is about four times smaller than the one those people are living in now. Benny's totally wrong about this."

"Can we sue him?" Maureen asked. "And you go to the Cat Scratch?"

"Um, no and most definitely not," Joanne said. "I know the area pretty well. I wonder why, though? It's not like we go there all the time to see everyone. Right?"

"Oh yeah. That." Maureen giggled a little. "So Benny is still the lying bastard that we all think he is?"

"Sure enough!"

They shared a good laugh before Maureen said, "I'm doing the protest."

A/N: Next chapter is the last. Review!