Author: Girl Who Writes
Feedback: is loved and adored.
Pairing: Mimi/Roger, Angel/Collins and Maureen/Joanne
Word Count: 550
Summary: He hears the laughter and the joking, and presses a kiss to Mimi's cheek when Mark zooms the camera in on them.
Notes: Okay, I've messed around with the canon just a little. I have never been to NYC, and have no idea about season changes. Movieverse, this would have to happen just before Maureen and Joanne's engagement, but Angel would have to get sick pretty fast... if that makes sense. Written for speedrent.
Special Thanks: myself for not throwing my laptop at the wall xx
Spoilers: I shall assume you've see the movie/musical if you're here, which means nothing.
Disclaimer: Jonathon Larson's. Not mine.
Roger doesn't know how they ended up in Central Park on the first warm day of summer – well, not summer yet, but getting there. The coats and gloves were left around the loft (except for Mark's scarf; even in summer time, the blue and white scarf could be seen hanging out of Mark's bag) and layers of clothing were exchanged for lighter, brighter clothes. It was like someone had switched a light on over the group.
Winter is over, there's no snow and cold, no desperate need for heat. No chance of pneumonia. Just long, warm days and nights spent trying to prop open the windows to let cool air filter through the place.
Maureen, Mimi and Angel sit in a small group, Angel playing with Mimi's hair as they chatter; Roger doesn't focus on what they're talking about – nor does he want to. He's seen the three of them – and Joanne – in full-scale Female Mode – and it scared the shit out of him.
Maureen's like a hyperactive child, glancing at her watch every few moments before leaping to her feet (an admirable feat in the heels she's wearing, Roger notes) and claps her hands, declaring that it's Joanne's lunch break now.
"Marky, come find Joanne with me."
Mark looks pained to leave his spot under the tree to walk over to one of the shiny, non-descript buildings Maureen has gestured vaguely at. But he grudgingly is dragged off by Maureen, leaving Collins chuckling where he sits behind Angel, holding a worn out looking book that has held his attention for most of the afternoon. Roger closes his eyes, dozing in the sunlight.
"You're like a cat I used to have." Mimi's sprawled out beside him, her head cupped in her hands.
"A cat?" he opens one eye to give her a Look.
"Yeah. She was the cutest little thing, too. All white and fluffy."
"How am I like a fluffy cat you used to own?"
"Sleeping sprawled out in the sunlight," Mimi twists some of her hair around her fingers. "She used to climb into the weirdest places to find the sun." Mimi rolls onto her back, resting her head on his stomach. "This is nice."
"Using me as your pillow?"
"Well, yeah, but that's a given. I mean being outside, finally."
Maureen returns with Joanne and Mark, carrying cans of soft drink. "We raided Joanne's office," Mark explains as Collins raises his eyebrows at the can of contraband Diet Coke in his hand.
Mimi sits up and pulls him over to the group, teasing Maureen about going against all her principles. Angel plays her pickle tub for onlookers and Mimi and Mark bully Roger into singing a verse of one of his old songs.
Mark props his camera up on the soda cans and rattles off a narrative that none of them listen to.
"This is perfect," Mimi says, her head on Roger's shoulder. He kisses the tips of her fingers and she giggles. And he's amazed that someone so bright and alive is here with him; that pried him out of whatever place he used to be in, the monotonous place of AZT and death and borrowed time. He doesn't notice how pale and tired looking Angel is, or how Collins will support her when they make their way back home. He hears the laughter and the joking, and presses a kiss to Mimi's cheek when Mark zooms the camera in on them.
And they walk back home in the early evening, the air still warm and Mimi's hand in his.