RENT: Looking for More (22/?)
Author: Jen (jennamajig)
Feedback: Adored
Pairing: Roger/Mimi, Maureen/Joanne, a little Mark/OC, but a Mark centric fic.
Word Count: 1,800ish
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: General.
Summary: Mark reaches a pinnacle in his life and makes an interesting decision. Set Post-Rent.
Notes: Written for challenge #44 on speed_rent, now expanded. Comments are always appreciated and treasured.
Disclaimer: Rent is not mine, I am simply borrowing.
A/N: Three chapters in a week! I hope people are still reading this...As always, feedback adored. Rest of story at ff.net.
Normal baby clothes weren't going to fit Angel, so Maureen took it upon herself to find one of the few baby boutiques in New York City that carried a preemie-line. It wasn't cheap of course, but Maureen said Joanne could afford it.
Oddly enough, Maureen changed when little Angel arrived as well. One rare evening that Mark had off, he'd grabbed his camera and dropped by Roger and Mimi's apartment to find that Maureen had made chicken-noodle soup for Mimi. Maureen talked about how she'd read a recipe in Julia Child's cookbook.
"You own The Joy of Cooking?" Mark asked, staring at the bowl in front of him. It looked incredibly appetizing. He knew Maureen baked - and was pretty good at it - when the occasion called for it, but he had no clue she'd expanded her cooking horizons. Maureen was the best cook when she lived at the loft, but that didn't take much when he, Roger, and Collins were the only competition.
"You know it is called The Joy of Cooking?" Roger countered back Mark's way.
"Everyone but you Roger probably knows it's called The Joy of Cooking," Maureen shot back. "My last audition didn't go as well, and Joanne's been working long hours, and the woman at the bookstore recommended it...forget it! Do you and Mimi like the soup or not?"
"It's amazing, Maureen. Thank you for bringing it over," Mimi said, picking up her own empty bowl into the sink. "Roger and I can't cook for shit, so I'm happy bottles don't need a recipe." She returned to her chair at the second-hand kitchen table she and Roger had found at a nearby thrift store. "I can't believe that she's finally coming home tomorrow. I don't know if I'm ready for her to come home. She's still so tiny."
"You're ready," Mark told her. "They wouldn't let her come home if you weren't."
"I guess so," Mimi reluctantly agreed. Roger reached across the table, squeezing her hand.
"You're not alone, baby. There are two of us."
"Yeah, but I'll be alone when you're at your gigs," Mimi countered. "And she's so small and-"
"And you have us," Mark pointed out.
"You have you own baby to worry about soon." Crap, yes there was that, he thought.
Mimi sighed. "I guess I'm just a little freaked out."
"Well, I don't have a baby," Maureen pointed out. "And Joanne's partner at her firm now. Her caseload sucks. I earned all my money babysitting in high school."
Roger raised an eyebrow at that, shooting a look Mark's way. Mark just laughed.
"It's true. She did."
"Everyone in Scarsdale wanted me to watch their kids. I *can* be responsible," Maureen defended.
Mark just shook his head. "Roger is just going by your track record in New York City, Mo. He didn't have the pleasure of knowing you in Scarsdale."
"Shit, Scarsdale. Thankfully, that feels like a million years ago." Maureen was quiet for a minute. "Speaking of Scarsdale, did you finally tell your mom about the baby?"
"How did you know I hadn't told my mom about the baby?" He knew the answer before he'd finished asking the question. Maureen was the queen at figuring out information she wasn't privy to. She hated being left out.
"Kara."
"Maureen... " The idea of Maureen alone in a room with Kara made him fairly uncomfortable, given the fact that Kara was still surprised that he and Maureen were able to maintain a tight friendship.
He'd known Maureen since was he was five and they'd experienced nearly all their firsts together, even if she did stomp on his heart more than once. Once they'd cooled their romance and Maureen finally settled on her sexuality, they'd discovered that they'd been through too much not to be friends.
"Hey, if you and Joanne can be so chummy, it is only fair that I can be friendly with Kara. Besides, you may need some help with Mark Jr, you know."
"Mark Jr?" Mimi smiled. "Do you and Kara know if it's a boy or girl?"
Kara hadn't wanted to know, but the curse of being near the end of medical school meant that the second she and Mark looked at the sonogram, they both knew.
"It's a boy," he confirmed. "But his name will not be Mark Jr. And my mom, well, she's actually excited."
Excited about the baby, yes. Not excited about his and Kara's non-existent plans to get married. The conversation had gone much better than he'd thought it would, given that he'd opened up the phone call with "Hi, Mom. I met a girl. No, she's not Jewish. Oh, and we're having a baby. In three weeks. I heard you and dad want to come to graduation."
He didn't talk to his dad. He figured his mother was the best person to pass along the news.
"Your mom would be excited. She'd be excited that you actually called her," Roger pointed out. "She's the reason we screened all calls at the loft."
"Well, her messages were a wonderful reminder about how being broke, freezing, and starving were still better than sitting through the beyond awkward dinners with her, dad, Cindy and her kids."
"We're not totally broke and starving anymore, though. I still can't believe that the Life Cafe was willing to give Mimi maternity leave so she wouldn't quit. I mean, she isn't a very good waitress-"
"Hey!" Mimi shouted, swatting Roger on the shoulder.
He looked at her. "It's true! That ass is what gets you tips."
"Tips that help pay our rent," she defended.
"True. And it gives us health insurance," Roger continued. "That period we had to wait before it covered mine and Mimi's AZT sucked, but almost all of Angel's hospital bill is being covered. I can't believe it."
"We'll be able to pay your premiums, Mark, when you graduate," Mimi put in, after giving Roger another playful swat.
Mark shrugged. "What premiums? I'll never charge you guys a dime."
"But AZT costs money," Mimi countered. "And Angel..." She trailed off suddenly as if reality had just smacked in the face. "She's really positive, isn't she?" While Mimi's question was directed to the entire kitchen, her brown eyes shifted directly to Mark's blue ones.
"I don't know, Meems," he answered, using Roger's nickname for her to soften the blow. He hadn't a clue what Angel's future was. For now, she was alive, improving. She'd be on medication, treated like she was positive. He didn't have the heart to say that HIV positive children rarely saw age five.
But times were changing. He'd do everything possible to make sure they did.
"HIV-negative babies born to HIV-infected mothers could test positive for antibodies until they are eighteen months old. If your insurance covers it, there may be more extensive testing for the virus itself, but it isn't perfect and it is expensive," he admitted. He tried giving Mimi the most reassuring smile he could muster. "She's doing really well, you know."
"I know. She's coming home," Mimi agreed. She shook head slightly, as if she were trying to clear it. Roger reached out to squeeze her hand again. Mark absently stirred his spoon in the bowl of soup in front of him.
"There's more soup," Maureen pointed and the tension in the room immediately shifted as Roger handed his empty bowl her way.
"What's your dad think about the baby, Mark?" Mimi asked softly, changing the subject. Besides Maureen, who'd experienced Dr. Cohen firsthand herself, Mimi was probably the only other one that knew his currently complicated relationship with his father. Roger and he might be best friends, but they also knew what topics to avoid. Roger did not talk about his dad, so Mark never volunteered much about his dad in return. Instead, they shared a strong dislike for their respective fathers, although Mark had a feeling Roger's father wasn't just a cold man.
"I haven't talked to him," he admitted. "He's coming to my graduation next month, though. It means I can't skip out on it like I had hoped I could."
"Skip out on it? Why would you want to do that?" Maureen asked, startling him when she put a hand on his shoulder. She handed Roger back his bowl with other and then looped her arms completely around his neck in a sign of affection that would have Joanne sighing if she were there. Mark shifted uncomfortably before untangling himself from Maureen's grasp.
"Because graduation is stupid." It was. He didn't need to hear his name announced for his plan to move forward. Of course that wasn't the real reason and he knew it. He sighed. "But my father paid the bills and he wants to see me march across a stage and collect my diploma in front of hundreds of people."
"That's a lame excuse," Roger shot back. "It's the hundreds of people shit that has you running in the opposite direction. You hate being the center of attention, even if it is only for two minutes."
Maureen pulled out the last remaining chair from the table and sat down next to Mark, propping her head up but tucking her hand under her chin. "Roger's right, Mark. Benny told me you ditched the graduation ceremony at Brown."
"So did Benny," he pointed out. He and Benny had spent that day loading up Benny's piece of crap car for a one-way drive to New York City.
"Not for the same reason you did."
He turned his eyes down to the table. "Can we just drop this? My parents are coming and I'm going."
"Damn, Mark, I know I said this was crap when you started, but you made it. Least you can do is be proud of that fact." Mark was surprised to hear those words come from Roger's mouth. What had being a parent really done for him?
"You need it on film, too, you know," Mimi pointed out. "An end, right?"
An end. He mulled those words over. The goal he'd had almost four years ago, when Mimi was coughing on the couch at the loft and Collins was alive. Before conflicting conversations with his father and struggles within himself. Before babies. Before Kara.
"It isn't the end," he said. "It's just the beginning."
Feedback: Adored
Pairing: Roger/Mimi, Maureen/Joanne, a little Mark/OC, but a Mark centric fic.
Word Count: 1,800ish
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: General.
Summary: Mark reaches a pinnacle in his life and makes an interesting decision. Set Post-Rent.
Notes: Written for challenge #44 on speed_rent, now expanded. Comments are always appreciated and treasured.
Disclaimer: Rent is not mine, I am simply borrowing.
A/N: Three chapters in a week! I hope people are still reading this...As always, feedback adored. Rest of story at ff.net.
Normal baby clothes weren't going to fit Angel, so Maureen took it upon herself to find one of the few baby boutiques in New York City that carried a preemie-line. It wasn't cheap of course, but Maureen said Joanne could afford it.
Oddly enough, Maureen changed when little Angel arrived as well. One rare evening that Mark had off, he'd grabbed his camera and dropped by Roger and Mimi's apartment to find that Maureen had made chicken-noodle soup for Mimi. Maureen talked about how she'd read a recipe in Julia Child's cookbook.
"You own The Joy of Cooking?" Mark asked, staring at the bowl in front of him. It looked incredibly appetizing. He knew Maureen baked - and was pretty good at it - when the occasion called for it, but he had no clue she'd expanded her cooking horizons. Maureen was the best cook when she lived at the loft, but that didn't take much when he, Roger, and Collins were the only competition.
"You know it is called The Joy of Cooking?" Roger countered back Mark's way.
"Everyone but you Roger probably knows it's called The Joy of Cooking," Maureen shot back. "My last audition didn't go as well, and Joanne's been working long hours, and the woman at the bookstore recommended it...forget it! Do you and Mimi like the soup or not?"
"It's amazing, Maureen. Thank you for bringing it over," Mimi said, picking up her own empty bowl into the sink. "Roger and I can't cook for shit, so I'm happy bottles don't need a recipe." She returned to her chair at the second-hand kitchen table she and Roger had found at a nearby thrift store. "I can't believe that she's finally coming home tomorrow. I don't know if I'm ready for her to come home. She's still so tiny."
"You're ready," Mark told her. "They wouldn't let her come home if you weren't."
"I guess so," Mimi reluctantly agreed. Roger reached across the table, squeezing her hand.
"You're not alone, baby. There are two of us."
"Yeah, but I'll be alone when you're at your gigs," Mimi countered. "And she's so small and-"
"And you have us," Mark pointed out.
"You have you own baby to worry about soon." Crap, yes there was that, he thought.
Mimi sighed. "I guess I'm just a little freaked out."
"Well, I don't have a baby," Maureen pointed out. "And Joanne's partner at her firm now. Her caseload sucks. I earned all my money babysitting in high school."
Roger raised an eyebrow at that, shooting a look Mark's way. Mark just laughed.
"It's true. She did."
"Everyone in Scarsdale wanted me to watch their kids. I *can* be responsible," Maureen defended.
Mark just shook his head. "Roger is just going by your track record in New York City, Mo. He didn't have the pleasure of knowing you in Scarsdale."
"Shit, Scarsdale. Thankfully, that feels like a million years ago." Maureen was quiet for a minute. "Speaking of Scarsdale, did you finally tell your mom about the baby?"
"How did you know I hadn't told my mom about the baby?" He knew the answer before he'd finished asking the question. Maureen was the queen at figuring out information she wasn't privy to. She hated being left out.
"Kara."
"Maureen... " The idea of Maureen alone in a room with Kara made him fairly uncomfortable, given the fact that Kara was still surprised that he and Maureen were able to maintain a tight friendship.
He'd known Maureen since was he was five and they'd experienced nearly all their firsts together, even if she did stomp on his heart more than once. Once they'd cooled their romance and Maureen finally settled on her sexuality, they'd discovered that they'd been through too much not to be friends.
"Hey, if you and Joanne can be so chummy, it is only fair that I can be friendly with Kara. Besides, you may need some help with Mark Jr, you know."
"Mark Jr?" Mimi smiled. "Do you and Kara know if it's a boy or girl?"
Kara hadn't wanted to know, but the curse of being near the end of medical school meant that the second she and Mark looked at the sonogram, they both knew.
"It's a boy," he confirmed. "But his name will not be Mark Jr. And my mom, well, she's actually excited."
Excited about the baby, yes. Not excited about his and Kara's non-existent plans to get married. The conversation had gone much better than he'd thought it would, given that he'd opened up the phone call with "Hi, Mom. I met a girl. No, she's not Jewish. Oh, and we're having a baby. In three weeks. I heard you and dad want to come to graduation."
He didn't talk to his dad. He figured his mother was the best person to pass along the news.
"Your mom would be excited. She'd be excited that you actually called her," Roger pointed out. "She's the reason we screened all calls at the loft."
"Well, her messages were a wonderful reminder about how being broke, freezing, and starving were still better than sitting through the beyond awkward dinners with her, dad, Cindy and her kids."
"We're not totally broke and starving anymore, though. I still can't believe that the Life Cafe was willing to give Mimi maternity leave so she wouldn't quit. I mean, she isn't a very good waitress-"
"Hey!" Mimi shouted, swatting Roger on the shoulder.
He looked at her. "It's true! That ass is what gets you tips."
"Tips that help pay our rent," she defended.
"True. And it gives us health insurance," Roger continued. "That period we had to wait before it covered mine and Mimi's AZT sucked, but almost all of Angel's hospital bill is being covered. I can't believe it."
"We'll be able to pay your premiums, Mark, when you graduate," Mimi put in, after giving Roger another playful swat.
Mark shrugged. "What premiums? I'll never charge you guys a dime."
"But AZT costs money," Mimi countered. "And Angel..." She trailed off suddenly as if reality had just smacked in the face. "She's really positive, isn't she?" While Mimi's question was directed to the entire kitchen, her brown eyes shifted directly to Mark's blue ones.
"I don't know, Meems," he answered, using Roger's nickname for her to soften the blow. He hadn't a clue what Angel's future was. For now, she was alive, improving. She'd be on medication, treated like she was positive. He didn't have the heart to say that HIV positive children rarely saw age five.
But times were changing. He'd do everything possible to make sure they did.
"HIV-negative babies born to HIV-infected mothers could test positive for antibodies until they are eighteen months old. If your insurance covers it, there may be more extensive testing for the virus itself, but it isn't perfect and it is expensive," he admitted. He tried giving Mimi the most reassuring smile he could muster. "She's doing really well, you know."
"I know. She's coming home," Mimi agreed. She shook head slightly, as if she were trying to clear it. Roger reached out to squeeze her hand again. Mark absently stirred his spoon in the bowl of soup in front of him.
"There's more soup," Maureen pointed and the tension in the room immediately shifted as Roger handed his empty bowl her way.
"What's your dad think about the baby, Mark?" Mimi asked softly, changing the subject. Besides Maureen, who'd experienced Dr. Cohen firsthand herself, Mimi was probably the only other one that knew his currently complicated relationship with his father. Roger and he might be best friends, but they also knew what topics to avoid. Roger did not talk about his dad, so Mark never volunteered much about his dad in return. Instead, they shared a strong dislike for their respective fathers, although Mark had a feeling Roger's father wasn't just a cold man.
"I haven't talked to him," he admitted. "He's coming to my graduation next month, though. It means I can't skip out on it like I had hoped I could."
"Skip out on it? Why would you want to do that?" Maureen asked, startling him when she put a hand on his shoulder. She handed Roger back his bowl with other and then looped her arms completely around his neck in a sign of affection that would have Joanne sighing if she were there. Mark shifted uncomfortably before untangling himself from Maureen's grasp.
"Because graduation is stupid." It was. He didn't need to hear his name announced for his plan to move forward. Of course that wasn't the real reason and he knew it. He sighed. "But my father paid the bills and he wants to see me march across a stage and collect my diploma in front of hundreds of people."
"That's a lame excuse," Roger shot back. "It's the hundreds of people shit that has you running in the opposite direction. You hate being the center of attention, even if it is only for two minutes."
Maureen pulled out the last remaining chair from the table and sat down next to Mark, propping her head up but tucking her hand under her chin. "Roger's right, Mark. Benny told me you ditched the graduation ceremony at Brown."
"So did Benny," he pointed out. He and Benny had spent that day loading up Benny's piece of crap car for a one-way drive to New York City.
"Not for the same reason you did."
He turned his eyes down to the table. "Can we just drop this? My parents are coming and I'm going."
"Damn, Mark, I know I said this was crap when you started, but you made it. Least you can do is be proud of that fact." Mark was surprised to hear those words come from Roger's mouth. What had being a parent really done for him?
"You need it on film, too, you know," Mimi pointed out. "An end, right?"
An end. He mulled those words over. The goal he'd had almost four years ago, when Mimi was coughing on the couch at the loft and Collins was alive. Before conflicting conversations with his father and struggles within himself. Before babies. Before Kara.
"It isn't the end," he said. "It's just the beginning."