Maureen sighs softly as she drops down onto the couch. She hasn't been sleeping well lately, can't keep breakfast down in the morning and Roger thinks Mark's getting suspicious. They should just tell everyone already. She didn't want to. She liked keeping the secret - it was the only thing that was just hers and Roger's.

Everything else they had to share. The shower, the beer, the toilet, the telephone... even their bedroom on occasion. This was theirs. She'd tell when she was ready. Plus something could still happen. The voice in her head kept reminding her of that. It was a familiar voice, screechy and full of disapproval.

"Fuck off, mum," she mutters, leaning back on the couch, a cold washcloth draped over her forehead.

You're not even married. You're having a baby out of wedlock. What will the neighbors think?

She winces slightly, a sharp pain errupting underneath her nose. Mum always thought about the neighbors, for as long as Maureen could remember. It was 'don't get your dress dirty... don't wear those jeans... don't bring that boy home, that Roger boy... what will the neighbors think?'

"Fuck the neighbors, too."

"Maur?"

Mark creeps slowly out of his bedroom. He's been sitting in his room for days, working on his project, or at least that's what he babbles about when he does leave. And that's only to empty his bladder and grab another cup of coffee. He'd heard her drop down onto the couch. She'd noticed he'd been paying more attention to her lately. He was the only one who called her Maur. It wasn't Mo, like Collins and Benny had taken to call her and Roger just called her baby... Maureen if he was pissed off. She liked Maur.

"Yeah?" she asks, sitting up a bit, the washcloth falling off of her forehead and into her lap.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make you get up," he replies quickly, bolting from his room to the couch. "Lay back down. Do you want something to drink? Or eat?"

She screws up her face, giving him a strange look. He's been like this for the past week or so, wanting to wait on her. She could snap her fingers and he'd be there in a matter of seconds.

"No," she shakes her head. "I'm okay. Migraine."

"Oh," he nods, sitting on the edge of the couch.

Mark's always thought Maureen was gorgeous. Roger was so lucky. Mark wondered if he knew that. Of course he did. Look at her. Her beautiful dark curls that fall around her pale face and her lips... Mark is sure they're soft... and her smile, she steals his heart every time she flashes it. And those eyes, those gorgeous green eyes. He's surprised he can form words around her. Roger was more than lucky. Mark would give almost anything to get her to look at him the way she looks at Roger.

"Actually, would you mind getting me some aspirin?"

"Of course," he nods, bolting from the couch towards the bathroom, leaving her alone on the couch.

He's cute. Roger's lucky to have Mark for a best friend. Mark would do almost anything for Roger. Roger snaps his fingers and Mark's there in a matter of seconds. He's always taking care of everyone, ready to make grocery store runs and make dinner and fetch aspirin when there's a migraine (or a hangover)... He's very sweet and Maureen wonders why he doesn't have a girlfriend. Probably his mother's fault... she's just as bad as Maureen's, always pushing him to find a nice Jewish girl and settle down and raise five children and get a proper job. Good luck with that.

He returns quickly, dropping the white pills into her hand and handing her a glass of water as well. She smiles and takes both, sitting up and swallowing. Mark pushes around a few crumbs on the make shift coffee table (consisting of a couple milk crates and a piece of scrap wood) as he watches from the corner of his eye.

"Maur?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh… are you… alright?"

She scrunches her face, cocking her head to the side. "That's a loaded question," she giggles softly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… you've been getting headaches a lot lately. And you've been in the bathroom a lot. So I was just wondering…"

"Wondering what?" she snaps, not meaning to, but it just comes out like that.

"If, I don't know, you wanted to go down to the clinic. Get it checked out."

"I've been," she replies, settling back on the couch, avoiding his eyes.

"And?" he asks, staring back at her. She's hiding something, he can tell.

Yeah, he knows her that well.

"It's uh… it's nothing. I'm fine."

"Maur."

She bites her lip, trying her hardest not to look at him but he looks at her with those big blue puppy dog eyes and she can't lie to him. He knows. She knows he knows. Roger knows he knows. Mark knows she knows he knows.

"What?"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Heaving a sigh, her lip trembles and she bites it hard, looking down at her lap. She lifts her gaze to meet his and slowly nods, giving in to him. "Yeah, I am."

"Congratulations…?" he asks, nibbling on the corner of his lip as well.

"Thanks," she nods. "It's only been six weeks. I didn't want to say anything yet. Please don't tell anyone. And don't tell Roger you know. He wanted to tell you."

"I won't," he shakes his head. "But so you know, I'm here for you. If you need anything. Clothes, food, money…"

"Thank you," she nods again, reaching her hand out to him.

He takes it and squeezes gently, though it's killing him. She's having a baby with his best friend. The woman he wants to marry is having Roger's baby. They're so young and Mark's so alone.

Alone.