Title: ~ Strangers in the Night ~

Author: Triskell (ferngully_at )

Rating: PG-13

Xmas Challenge rentfic101

Mark/Mimi for Sandy – Merry Christmas! Enjoy!

AN: This was an awfully difficult story to write, cause I'm not only a dedicated Mark/Roger shipper, but also cause I have a dreadful problem writing Mimi. This fic comes in changing POVs. Also, please note that it starts with Angel's funeral (in the timeline of the musical) and becomes AU after that. Sort of.

~ Strangers in the Night ~

© Triskell, December 2002

(Mark)

Roger's done it again. He's fucked up – big time I might add. There's no use talking to him, though I suppose I'll try finding out where he's staying in Santa Fe anyway. Even if he won't want me to.

It's so typical, he runs at the slightest chance of being happy. Loved, cherished, needed. Everything good scares the hell out of him. Mimi's being fragile and weak is no excuse. Could never be. Cause it makes her all the more special for wanting to share her life with Roger. With anyone at that rate.

Poor thing ran from Angel's funeral, Benny's not seen her, not that I thought he would. He's not even looked for her. Well, that's what I'm doing, of course. Being the good little puppy that I am, I run after by friend's girlfriend. If I weren't so pathetic, I might laugh at myself.

New York's full of preparations for Christmas already. Halloween's long in the past, for all that it's only two hours past midnight. November the first. Great. Central Park's lovely at night. And not exactly the place I'd want to be. I left my camera at home, I miss it. I'm so naked without it, helpless. My fingers claw at the inside of my coat pocket – I couldn't find my gloves.

Wherever can she be? Not that I've got a chance in hell of finding her in a city like New York. I could look for years and she'd be able to hide. That's what she's doing. Why do I think of Bambi when I think of her? Must be her eyes. So huge and expressive. Scared, warm, and full of love. For Roger. How can anyone be so blind? All for him, so much emotion, so much offered if only he'd be brave enough to take it.

I wish I'd find someone like Mimi. And that's exactly the train of thought that'll get me into trouble. She's Roger's. Even if he doesn't seem to realise just how precious a gift she is. Angel adored her, no wonder, they were so similar. Giving and warm. Best friends, related souls, two creatures too perfect to be long on the earth.

Next time I need money I'll write a romance novel, I think just along the lines of a total moron. Poetry's my friend, I hate poetry, despise it, that burnt out shell of words with no meaning.

I've got to find her. She'll catch a cold. She's too fragile to be hurt...

(Mimi)

I don't want to go back. Not to Benny, not now. I didn't want him to come, Roger just... as always. He never believed me. This time he was right though. Not that he can judge me now. No more than before. I need someone, I'm not just a piece of baggage he can throw around. But I would be, I'd be anything for him, wouldn't I?

I mustn't cry, I'm cold, it's so cold, it's freezing. Angel, are you up there? Can't you tell me what to do? Can't you help me? I couldn't even climb onto the railing. I stood on that damn bridge for almost an hour. In the rain. And I wanted to jump. Why didn't you help me? I can't jump alone.

I'm cold. Really, really cold. I hate that park. It's so dark and damp, so full of people I don't want to see. The Man'll be about and I can't say 'no'. Not tonight. I never could. I need it. Whatever he has.

I'm cold.

(Mark)

Two thirty-five. If I read my watch right. In that light it's pretty difficult. The junkies are littered about like dead bodies, or maybe I've got an overactive imagination. The dead rising from their tomb. How about it, Angel? Want to join me? I'm still on my way. I won't go home till I find her. I'm so pathetic, aren't I?

In love with my friend's girlfriend, looking for her to ensure her that Roger'll come to his senses, that he'll come back, that he loves her, that she's beautiful, loveable, and that he needs her.

I need her, I need someone like her. I want her. And if I sit at her bed holding her hand as she fades away. I'd die for one taste of what Angel had; someone to live for, unafraid to say 'I love you'.

Guess I'm the wrong guy. I can stay, I'll stay, I'll follow you. But I can't say it. I've long let go of those words. They've got too much meaning, are too intense and needy for the likes of me. I detach.

Where is she?

Another bundled up figure, leaning against a stone bridge. In the shadows, away from that sorry excuse of a moon that won't even shine properly tonight. So small, I guess she's crying. It would fit so well with the atmosphere. I should just pass by her. But maybe, just maybe I can ... do what? Say 'hi'? To a stranger? Sure, that goes down well with New Yorkers. But I walk towards her. I can't just walk by...

(Mimi)

There's a man on the path, he looks towards me I think. Now he's coming. Doesn't look like a junkie. Not the Man either, is it? Looking for some fun, are you? You can have it, like everybody else, just as long as you pay. You always pay. Whatever you do, you pay...

Some light passes across his face, like a faded glow…

"Mark?"

What's he doing here? He looks like he's seen a ghost, grabs my arm, pulls me towards him, hugs me. Why does he hold me? Why is he here?

"Mark?"

"I've been looking all over for you, you're frozen, your hands are cold, here, come on now, we're going home..."

He's babbling. As if I were a child he's picked up, or a stray cat. The stray of avenue B, sounds good, doesn't it? He's put his arm round my shoulder and he's taken my hands firmly in one of his, trying to warm me. Roger never did that. Not like that. Not as if it were anything usual. I'm Roger's. I belong with him, to him even I suppose. Mark warms my hands. He's still babbling. He warms my hands...

(Mark)

I can't believe it, I've found her just like that. Angel, did you hear me after all? She's cold, shivering, I'd wrap her in my coat, I know I should. But isn't that something a boyfriend does? I'll get a cab as soon as we're out of the park.

I don't look at her, not really. Never look into Mimi's eyes. Not when you're in love with her. It's too painful. She hurts. It's Roger's fault. And mine, cause I let him hurt her. I always let him.

"They've put up the Christmas lights," she says, her voice is soft, almost timid. How can she be afraid of me? I wouldn't hurt her, I'm not Roger. She's not mine to comfort. I don't look at her.

(Mimi)

He's still holding my hands. But he won't look at me, doesn't talk, just nods his head when I point out the lights. Not as if he didn't want to talk to me really, more as if he couldn't. He's probably angry. After all he looked for me. I don't know why. No one should come looking for me. Cause no one cares, do they? Angel would've come, perhaps. But if she were here, I wouldn't have run off at all. She'd have held me, glared at Roger and it would've been all right.

Instead, Mark glared at Roger, I know he did. Right after he was shocked. Seeing me, knowing I heard what Roger said. Roger. He's just insecure, I know that. Why can't he live with my baggage, I won't bother him long with it, will I? Guess that scares him. I should've known. I scare him. Roger's afraid of me. But Mark's holding my hand. Mark came to look for me. And I mustn't like that. I mustn't enjoy having him run after me. Cause he shouldn't have. He shouldn't care. He mustn't care...

(Mark)

She's quiet, far too quiet. Perhaps I went too far taking her to the loft. She's lying on the couch, didn't want to remind her of Roger and take her to his room. His empty room, I should say. Not one trace of his presence left. Not that there was much for him to take in the first place, he doesn't exactly own much, except for Mimi's heart. Which is too precious and too heavy a gift to take along.

Her eyes are closed, and I look at her, shouldn't, but do. As usual. I guess if I sat on my heels and barked at her, she would smile. I feel like a dog, guarding her, watching her. I'm scum for wanting to hold her. My friend's girlfriend. I need to remind myself. She's not just any woman, she's my friend's girlfriend. And he hurt her, he left her. It's not as if I needed to get riled up about feeling for her what he obviously doesn't.

Right, wrong thought. I know Roger, I know he adores Mimi. I know. I might not want to know, but I know. She's looking at me, great. Caught in the act of staring; now I've got to say something.

"Tea?" I guess if stupidity had a name, it would be mine. I sound like her mother.

"Any milk?"

"Ah, yeah, I think." Making hot milk with honey for Mimi isn't exactly conducive to making me feel less like a mother hen. Her smile's worth it though. She looks so young, fragile. As always. But more so now that I've bundled her up. Her eyes are still a little red from crying. Roger shouldn't have hurt her.

"I'm sorry I ran away, Mark."

"It's ok, I...I'd have done the same, I guess." Yeah, sure, I'm always running, aren't I? Only that no one but me ever knows. Well, Roger does, yet he can't possibly imagine all the things I hide from. It's better he doesn't. He'd have a fit. And I'd have a friend less.

"You came after me." She sounds almost hesitant. I force a smile on my face as I shrug. Don't look into her eyes. Don't ever look into those eyes. Too innocent for a woman like her. Too hauntingly beautiful, too much emotion.

"That's what friends are for."

"No one else came, did they?" I shrug. She knows the answer anyway. I'm her puppy, a pathetic love-sick puppy. At least she doesn't suspect that.

(Mimi)

Friends? I hadn't thought we were friends, not real friends anyway. I mean, he's Roger's friend. And I'm Roger's...was...want to be... It doesn't matter, does it? Here's a guy I hardly know and says he's my friend. I like it. I like him. I love Roger. I guess.

I pat the space beside me on the couch and he sits down, as far away from my body as he can be. I don't know if he's frightened of me, or rather apprehensive, or just plain not wanting to get close to anyone. Roger always said he was afraid of being hurt. Mark, that is. Though I guess he was talking about himself too.

But Roger isn't here now. I am. And Mark is.

"D'you think Benny would... really would…pay the….the..." I can't get it out. I don't think a clinic can help me. Not really. I've given up hope so often, always alone.

"Benny'll pay. I know the clinic. It's not that bad. I mean, not…that bad." He doesn't look at me, but I feel him taking my hand. It's warm, comforting. "I'll come visit you, if you want."

"I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be." And I believe him, know he means it. It's easy to have faith in him. Perhaps cause Roger told me how Mark stood by him. Or maybe cause Angel said he feels more for others than he lets on. That his camera is his connection to the world. He didn't have it with him when he found me tonight. Could it be I'm more important to him than his beloved camera? It's a silly thought, one for a schoolgirl in love. But I'm not a schoolgirl, I never really have been. So I just don't think like that. He only forgot it, that's all.

"Do you...would you like to see the...the clinic?"

"Just see?"

"Yeah."

It wouldn't be so bad just to have a look. As long as I'm not going alone. As long as I don't have to face it all alone. I hate being alone. I wish Roger were here. But then, he hasn't ever been here, really, has he? Not when that whole vicious circle started for me, not when I was in the middle of it. Not now, when I face the end, the breaking point. Being free from wanting.

Mark still holds my hand. Warm, comforting. He's squeezing my fingers with his, supporting. Roger's hands are like my father's. Mark's are different. Gentler, more careful. I like them. They are safe.

(Mark)

Mimi's sleeping now. Again; she's had a long day I suppose. I don't really ask her about it, she can talk if she wants to. All she likes, I always listen. She's been at the clinic for almost two weeks now. I take her there in the morning and pick her up in the afternoon. She doesn't want to stay, even though Benny paid for it.

Roger had to be tied down; but Mimi is stronger. She's tired, worn, she cries a lot, but she doesn't rave; and she always wants to come home. To the loft, that is. Her own place is far colder than mine after all. Mine and Roger's I should say, but I don't. Cause to be honest I don't think much about him. I think about Mimi instead. Which is stupid, considering that she shouldn't be leaning against me when she sobs, she definitely shouldn't smile at me each time I turn up. Not the way she does. It lights up her eyes.

Treacherous me, I've taken to actually looking into her eyes. And I'm caught so thoroughly, I'll never be able to forget her now. I'm out of love. I don't think I ever loved anyone like this. It's nice in a way, and scary. And since I can't ever have her, it's a little masochistic as well. Still, Mimi never talks about Roger, and I don't mention him either.

We had a postcard. That is, I had one.

'Hi Mark,

doing well,

wish you were here.

Roger'

I gave it to Mimi, thought she might want to read it, but she just shook her head. I thought she'd cry, but she didn't. She's so much stronger than one might suppose. I wonder if she thinks about Roger, if she thinks about me. And if there's a difference. Well, of course there is, there has to be. I'm a friend, non-descript, tame puppy dog friend Mark. Roger's the boyfriend, the cool one, the loved one. Sometimes I like to think she cares about me, just a little more than she should. That's when I look into her eyes; and I know I've got to be mistaken. Miracles don't happen, least of all for me.

(Mimi)

One month. I can't believe I made it through those meetings. I'd have stopped going if Mark hadn't taken me there and picked me up. But I could never just leave, when I knew he was going to turn up, be disappointed, or, worse still, worried. He worries a lot, I think. Whether it's about me or his friend's girlfriend I don't know. I hope it's me.

I'm selfish I guess; I'm with Roger, technically at least, I guess. And I want Mark to like me. More than like me. He's not daring or dashing, just...there. Different, real, and close. He couldn't do much with me, just care. I'm not doing that well. Doctor told me it was the winter; the air, the cold. That I'd be ok when the weather's warmer again. Maybe, I hope so. When Mark holds my hand I want to live. To prove to him that I appreciate his care, that I need it. That I need him.

(Mark)

Christmas Eve. And what a fucking bad one. Roger's turned up. The lost son come back to reclaim his girlfriend. Now he's sitting with Mimi, talking to her. At least he's not touching her up. Which is the wrong way to put it. She's with him. Technically at least. Whatever I feel for her, it's my problem; it has nothing to do with her. We're friends. I've never hated that word more.

(Mimi)

I can't believe he's back. He says he found his song through me. I don't even know what his song means, he hasn't given me the chance to ask. He wants to talk, to tell me why he came back. He says he needs me and I smile. I wish I weren't so calm. He wasn't there for me. He ran. And I ran. But Mark came for me.

It feels wrong somehow to be sitting here with Roger. I think he loves me. I don't know about me; he was so much of everything for me, I clung to every thought of him, the very idea of his being. And yet, now I have him, now he wants to have me back... As if we weren't together anymore. He wants me back. It's strange. I smile. I wouldn't know what to say to him anyway.

(Mark)

I can't even leave. I'm forced to sit with Roger and Mimi in one room, watching them. Not that Collins isn't trying to divert my attention. Or Maureen – she's succeeding better, since she's sitting on my lap and telling me naughty stories; trying to see if she can make me blush. If I were listening, I probably would be by now.

"Marky... what's up with you? Or, to rephrase it, what isn't?"

"Shut it!" That is probably the most forceful and determined sentence I've ever said to her. And I so mean it. She's laughing, but for the first time she seems a bit insecure.

"Mark's got other things on his mind."

Thanks for pointing that out, Collins, I'm sure no one would've noticed otherwise. I catch Joanne staring at me. How long has she been doing that? I just wonder, she usually doesn't deign to notice my physical existence. Not since Maureen spent a night here. They'd been quarrelling. I sure as hell didn't touch her. Don't know what Maureen said though.

"Come, girl, let's get some coffee, I'm falling asleep here." Collins to the rescue. There are moments I swear he has soaked up Angel's gift of understanding people's moods. It's great to be able to breathe freely again, Maureen's no light weight. Unlike Mimi. And I've not been thinking that.

"Mark, not to be rude, but I couldn't help notice..." I hate it when Joanne puts on her 'lawyer face'. She makes me feel small, inconsequent, oh, and scared. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

"I didn't sleep with Maureen, I don't know what she's said, but I guarantee..." The hand covering my mouth is surprisingly cool; and soft too, womanly. Hadn't quite associated that with Joanne.

"Not Maureen. Mimi."

I'm pretty sure I'm either blushing, or squirming, or looking shocked. Or all of it. Right now I'm trying to catch my breath though. That was direct, wasn't it? A bit louder and Roger'd have heard it. Thanks, I can just imagine where my bones would be found in later years...

"You could tell her, you know... You're a nice guy, you've been there for her, spent time with her, that creates a bond. She wouldn't be angry."

Just confused enough to tell Roger. Who'll tear me into pieces; or tell me to move out. Oh no, worse even, he'll take Mimi to Santa Fe with him. Great option. I shake my head. Joanne persists, of course. Whyever shouldn't she – she's a lawyer, it's her job.

"If you want her, you've gotta fight for her. It's easy, Mark, really. You'd be surprised... Honey, thanks."

Maureen saving me from further embarrassment, what a day. Did I mention it was fucking bad to start with?

(Mimi)

Mark looks horrible. Joanne's just said something to him; I hope no one's died. It's Christmas, and he doesn't seem to be happy at all. Maybe he's jealous... but definitely not cause Roger's with me. Mark doesn't want me. He shouldn't, I'm everything bad he's been told to stay away from. I smile at Roger.

"You're not listening to me at all, baby!"

Baby, I hate that word. I'm twenty, have been for two weeks. No one knows, only Angel did. Still, I'm no kid, not anymore, haven't been for ages. Why does Roger make me feel like one?

"Baby, hey, you alright?"

"I'm clean." Not what you expected, was it? Wow, first time I said it. It feels good, somehow. I wish I'd said it to Mark, he would have smiled, instead of this giant beaming happiness I see in Roger. Who doesn't know how hard it was, still is. He's gone through it, right, but he's never been with someone who's going through it. There's a difference there.

"That's wonderful, baby, wonderful!" He wants to hug me and I pull back. No, of course he doesn't understand why I'm doing that. I should tell him.

"I didn't miss you." Which is a lie, cause I did, at first; before Mark held my hand, before he walked me to the clinic and back home; before he cared.

"I...you don't want me back, Mimi?" Good boy, he's got it. I guess I sound as bitter as Maureen would after a quarrel. At least I haven't actually said it aloud.

"I'm sorry, I just don't..."

"I shouldn't have left you. I..." he looks over at Mark and smiles, almost sadly, shaking his head. Almost as if something had popped into his head, some sort of revelation, "I should've been there for you, and I wasn't. Maybe we can...I was planning to go back to Santa Fe, perhaps you could write me, now and then, tell me how you are?"

He sounds so calm suddenly, self-assured, like the man I always saw in him. Like the man who would have stayed and taken care of me. I don't know what's happening now, but I nod. I don't want Roger to be the boyfriend who's not there. I'm baggage he doesn't need and he's a man who can't satisfy me.

(Mark)

Oh great, now Roger's standing up and clapping his hands, for effect, to get our attention. Next thing I know he'll have announced his marriage, or that he's taking his love to Santa Fe. The farther away from me the better. I'm sure he knows, he's looking at me in a funny way, with a strange smile. Creepy, really. Unlike himself, almost.

"I just, it's great to be here and all, but... I've got a standing gig in Santa Fe, and I just wanted to come and pick up some things before I really...move there."

I guess I'm not the only one who's shocked. Mimi isn't, but she's coming with him after all, so there's no reason for her to be. She's smiling up at him, though not in the way she usually did. I congratulate Roger, for all that I'm not sure what exactly I'm saying. I know it's nothing like 'Why're you taking Mimi away?'; that's just what's echoing in my head.

(Mimi)

That was quick, a fast ending to an otherwise slow-paced romance. Sounds good, doesn't it? It's as if there was a special reason why Roger's in his room packing just now. He's run before, but he seems somewhat relieved about it. Relieved in a way that says he cares about the people leaving behind, but knowing it's good he's leaving. Guess that's the strangest thing about it all.

Joanne's sitting beside me, Maureen is helping Collins whip up some semblance of dinner in the kitchen. Mark's on the other side of the room, staring out of the window. He looks dreadfully lonely. Perhaps cause he's standing so far away from the candles we've lit.

"You're staring, Mimi."

"Hm?"

"Staring at Mark. You could just go over, there's some mistletoe on the table."

"What're you talking about?" Mistletoe? I'm not quite following the logic here.

"Pick up the mistletoe and give Mark a kiss. It's about time; you've been staring at each other all night."

"No!"

"Yes, and you know it. Mark likes you, you like him..."

"Roger and I just broke up... I can't... and even if... then it's not..."

Joanne's laughing as she gives me a hug, "You broke up with Roger long before he left for Santa Fe; perhaps you were never even with him."

For all that I shouldn't know what she means it does make sense; strangely enough I'm not angry at her for telling me something like that. Not only cause it's true, but more cause she's not appalled or anything. It's not the usual 'Mimi's made a mistake, let's tell her' that I'm so used to hearing. It's rather 'Mimi's in love, let's help her be happy'; not that there's much of a chance for me to ever be with Mark.

I'm all wrong for him, cause he's so right for me.

(Mark)

I should have my camera in my hand right now, filming the evening in the city, Christmas lights, darkness, greyness, mist, and shimmering cold. Wonderful black and white images. My head's spinning, thinking about saying goodbye to Mimi. Which I'll have to do pretty soon. Cause Roger's leaving early tomorrow morning. Hadn't thought he'd be running off so fast, but then I hadn't thought he'd know I love his girlfriend either.

(Mimi)

I heard Roger leave; it was just after five in the morning. We'd said goodbye the night before, after the others had gone. Mark was already in his room, I think he'll miss Roger; now he's stuck with me again. I've moved in a while ago it seems, my stuff is lying all across the room, for all that Mark's asked me to clean up, cause he doesn't want to find my underwear strewn about when he changes the bedclothes.

Almost domestic, that compromise we've made. And Roger won't come between us again, he's vanished so easily as if he'd never been there in the first place. I guess I'm happy to know he's gone. Which I shouldn't be. Not really; even though I smile.

I've made coffee and laid the table, and yes, I've noticed the mistletoe branch that somehow managed to find it's way on top of the Captain Crunch box. I can take a hint, Joanne, thanks. Or perhaps it was Collins. Maureen would've made a huge affair out of it, so I can count her out.

"Morning."

If Mark's happy to see me, he sure doesn't look it. I just hope he still wants me here, otherwise...

"Mimi!"

I get up on impulse, I should explain what I'm still doing here, it's over with Roger and I don't really need Mark anymore either, at least not for the withdrawal, I just hadn't thought he'd want me out the day after Christmas!

"You stayed!" He's hugging me. When he stepped forward I don't know. I can feel his heart beat and I hold on tight, my arms around his waist. I'm safe now, Mark wants me here. Mark wants me.

(Mark)

I don't give a damn about the reasons, Mimi's here, she hasn't gone with Roger, and for as long as she's here I won't ask, I don't want to know when he's picking her up, or why she's not on her way to Santa Fe right now...

"Mark? Would you...?" Mistletoe? Mimi can't possibly be asking me to kiss her, can she? She's Roger's girlfriend. Who happens to hold onto me and smile, her eyes glittering and warm and happy...

I should know better, resist her; but then, it looks as if she didn't want me to resist. In fact, as soon as I lean down she pulls me closer… Frank Sinatra's crooning on the radio, hadn't noticed it was on, and just now, feeling her, I know I never need resist her temptation again.

A Beginning.

The song Frankie boy crooned just now ;D, which also gave me the title. It's a beautiful love ballad, fitting the story, though I only thought of it after I was finished writing it. (Lyrics aren't mine, no copyright infringement is intended.)

Strangers in the Night (Frank Sinatra)

Strangers in the night, exchanging glances

Wand'ring in the night, what were the chances

We'd be sharing love before the night was through

Something in your eyes was so inviting

Something in your smile was so exciting

Something in my heart told me I must have you

Strangers in the night

Two lonely people, we were strangers in the night

Up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know

Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away

And ever since that night, we've been together

Lovers at first sight, in love forever

It turned out so right for strangers in the night

Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away

Ever since that night we've been together

Lovers at first sight, in love forever

It turned out so right for strangers in the night