Title: Realization

Author: Girl Who Writes

Feedback: is beloved.

Pairing: Mimi/Roger, Joanne/Maureen.

Word Count: 1 269 words

Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff, humour and angst in a giant ball.

Summary: "These are our babies. They're going to get so big, and take ballet lessons and become the most beautiful girls in the world."

Notes: This evolved to something different halfway through, and I might go back at a later date and rewrite it. But yeah. I tried to look at
this differently to other fics that use this idea, and I hope it works.

Spoilers: Post-Movie.

Warnings: Language, because Roger's OOC if he doesn't swear at least once.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rent. Hah, own Rent. That'd be kinda of cool to say. But I can't because I don't.

It was 10:30 in the morning. It was sunny. Roger was hungry. And he was hiking up a staircase.

"How many freaking steps are in this god-damned hospital," Roger grumbled, trailing behind Mimi, Collins and Mark. "Why couldn't we take the elevator?"

"Because there's no way anyone else would have fit into the damn elevator, Roger," Mark turned around, a bunch of flowers in one hand.

"Come on!" Mimi leaned over the railing from half a flight up, her face bright with excitement; her hair clips the same colour as the ribbons on the present they had all put in for. "What are you guys waiting for?"

"We couldn't have waited for the next damn elevator," Roger continued his moaning.

"Maureen would kill you if she found you waiting in the lobby instead of hurling your ass upstairs," Collins chuckled. "And I'm sure Mimi would have dragged you up the stairs herself if you'd waited."

"Fu-uck," Roger groaned. A door above them swung shut.

"Mimi's going to explain to Maureen why we're late, and you're going to catch hell," Mark said almost gleefully as he shifted his messenger bag to the other shoulder.

The fourth floor was far too bright for Roger – all pastel colors and giant foam teddy bears decorated the hall. Tiny, sticky looking children tore through the hallway, and weepy families stood around, hugging each other. It was official; the maternity ward was Roger Davis' personal hell, with all its family togetherness, screaming children and the amount of pastel pink paint surrounding him.

"Roger, Collins, Mark, you're here." Joanne hurried over to them, a huge smile on her face. Roger blinked for a second; it was rare he saw Joanne in morning light, let alone surrounded by pastel colours that seemed to be lit from behind, it was so god damned bright. Joanne was dressed in a pair of jeans and a bright blue shirt.

He was hung over. He had had four hours sleep the previous night and the only thing that he'd gotten to eat before they'd left was jam on crackers than Mimi had handed him on their way out the door. Roger was officially cranky.

"Maureen and Mimi are at the nursery, come on," Joanne was bouncing like a little kid, Mark's camera trained on her every move. Roger shuffled after the group, glaring at a small girl who stared at him, in his dirty jeans and worn out leather jacket. The girl squeaked and tore off, away from Roger.

"Took us twenty minutes to get up the freaking stairs," Roger called after Joanne. "Forty freaking flights, I swear."

No one was listening.

"Markie!" Maureen was suddenly tearing towards them, her arms around Mark's neck, and Mark half-threw his camera at Collins. "There's two!"

"Two?" Collins said, holding Mark's camera up.

"Come and see!" Maureen grabbed Mark's hand and dragged him down the hall. "Come on Roger! Hurry up!"

Roger sighed and followed the group into a small, day room at the end of the hallway, where Mimi and Joanne were sitting on a couch that appeared to have, to Roger's horror, a pattern of tiny, dancing teddy bears, and were cooing at the two pink bundles they were each holding.

"This," Maureen sat on the arm of the couch, and draped her arm over Joanne's shoulders, "is Nora Elaine Johnson, and Mimi is holding Esme Catherine Jefferson."

"She's just so gorgeous," Mimi stroked Esme's downy, black hair. "Hey Esme, I'm your Auntie Mimi."

Roger stood awkwardly in the doorway as everyone crowded around Mimi and Joanne, and began passing the babies around.

"Oh," Mark looked around. "I think I dropped the flowers back in the hallway."

"The present is on that table," Mimi gestured in an indeterminable direction as she stared at Nora, who was settled comfortably in Collins' arms.

Roger picked up the wayward gift, and held it out to Joanne as if it was a live bomb. Mimi had plucked ten dollar notes from their wallets and gone out herself and bought the gift, so everyone looked over as Joanne undid the blue ribbon and the silvery wrapping paper, to pull out a stuffed yellow giraffe and three folded baby-body suits, with little teddy bears embroidered on the front.

Roger felt like fleeing.

"Oh, it's so cute!" Maureen grabbed the giraffe and waved it in Esme's face, and the baby simply yawned and curled closer to Mark. "She's so cute!"

"Didn't know it was twins," Mimi shrugged and practically plucked Nora from Collins' arms.

"Roger," Mark looked up. "You wanna hold Esme?"

Roger unconsciously took a step back as Mark stepped closer with the baby. It was a baby, and it was sleeping. He could hold it for forty seconds and give it back, and then drown himself in beer. Plus Mark had been holding it, and anything Mark could do, Roger could do easily.

He almost dropped it – Esme? – when Mark placed it in his arms and it let out a squeak-coo. Its little hands waved in the air, and suddenly he was looking at bright, grey eyes.

It snuggled against the leather of his jacket and snorted before going back to sleep.

"The birth parents are signing the papers tomorrow," Joanne was saying as he refocused on the conversation. "Then there's twenty one days where they can change their minds."

"They won't though," Collins said gently. "I've got a good feeling."

Joanne nodded, and Maureen kissed Joanne's temple. "These are our babies. They're going to get so big, and take ballet lessons and become the most beautiful girls in the world."

They sat around for a little while longer, and Roger realized he'd held the baby the whole time. A pair of nurses and a social worker turned up, to take the babies back to the nursery and to talk to Maureen and Joanne, and Roger dragged Mimi off to the cafeteria for coffee and food.

Mimi sat at the table, picking at her chocolate cupcake as Roger began to wolf down a chicken sandwich.

"Aren't Esme and Nora gorgeous?" Mimi said, jabbing the cupcake with a plastic fork, her eyes focused on the sticky surface of the table.

"They aren't bad for babies," Roger swallowed and took a sip of his soda, and noticed Mimi was pushing the cake around the place. "Meems?"

Mimi bit her lip and shook her head. Roger pulled his chair around next to Mimi's and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I wish…" Mimi said quietly.

"I know," Roger pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Can you imagine it?" Mimi leant against him. "Having a baby?"

"You really don't want me to answer that," Roger said honestly, stealing a bit of her cake. "Really."

"And living in a house with a garden and having a cat," Mimi wiped her eyes with a paper napkin, and then turned to face him. "What? You don't like babies?"

"I…" Roger looked at Mimi's red eyes. "Let's say good bye to Esme and Nora and go home."

When they got back to the nursery and Mimi pressed her hand against the glass window, smiling at Nora and Esme sleeping peacefully, Roger wanted to give Mimi everything she wanted – a baby, a house, a garden and even a cat.

"You'll be their favorite Auntie," Roger promised as they got in the elevator, and pretended the stab of hurt he felt at the realization that this was as good as it was going to get for them wasn't there.