Pairing: Roger/Mimi but includes Benny and Mark.
Genre: General, humor (wow, I wrote an angst-free fic!)
Summary: Huh, she thought. It was certainly a trend, though she hated admitting it.
Notes: This is very loosely based off the photo (and boy does it not cover what it's actually about) and I hope that's okay. Written a long time back for speed_rent on LJ and never posted here, so I'm sharing.

Spoilers: If know the gist of the movie/play plot, you're fine.
Disclaimer: Rent is not mine, though sometimes I pretend it is. Then I wake up.


Huh, she thought. It was certainly a trend, though she hated admitting it. But almost every good moment could be tracked right back to it.

She almost laughed out loud.

No way. They all just had to be coincidences. Good events happening at the same time as…well, even if it was true, she didn't need to share this piece of information with anyone else.

Her little secret.

Perfect.

So she sauntered into her tiny little bathroom and grabbed her mascara and went about her day, ignoring the little fact she'd just learned.

She went grocery shopping with last night's tips and she stopped by the loft with her purchases, thinking perhaps she could try and cook for once while she had the time and the money. Of course, not truly knowing the extent of her cooking skills, a little good luck would probably be helpful.

She didn't expect to see it sitting in the middle of the loft.

She almost dropped the bag of groceries when she found Benny sprawled out on the couch. Roger was sitting near the windows with his guitar and Mark was seated, Indian-style on the table, working on his camera.

"What the hell is he doing here?" were the first words to pop out of her mouth.

"Alison threw him out," Mark answered without looking up.

"She'll take me back," Benny muttered.

"Not if you keep cheating on her, she won't," Roger shot back. "Learn to keep it in your pants."

"Like you should talk," Benny replied. "Don't you remember Mister 'I'm a rock-star, I can do anyone and everyone I want, so who cares?'"

"That was forever ago," Roger defended, laying his guitar down. He got up and walked over to her, snaking an arm around her waist. "And besides, who needs to cheat when I have this?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have a name, Roger. And you still didn't answer my question. You both hate Benny's guts. So why is he here?"

"He offered free rent for some sympathy," Roger said.

"It was too good an offer to refuse," Mark elaborated.

She had just entered the twilight zone, she was sure of it. Mark and Roger had gone of the deep end. She slipped out of Roger's grasp and put her bag down next to Mark.

"Still…" she commented.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Roger commented.

Mark put his put his camera down and peered into the bag. "What did you buy?"

Roger's hint was more than caught. "Dinner supplies."

"Dinner?" Roger asked. "Uh, Mimi, *can* you cook?"

"Just as well as you or Mark can," she insisted. How dare he criticize her cooking skills? They weren't that bad…or maybe they were. She had to admit, she didn't have much practice.

Mark began taking items out of the bag. "Um, Meems, that's not saying much. I can make tea and Roger can…well, he can order take-out."

"Hey! I can make tea, too!"

"Yeah, weak tea," Mark muttered. "Anyways, Mimi, I'm hoping you're planning on sharing what ever you're making."

She gave him a playful swat. "Why do you think I brought everything up here?"

Mark grinned. "Great! I'll be nice having something other than Raman."

"Hey, what's wrong with Raman? I happen to like Raman." Roger plunked himself down on the couch next to Benny. "That was Benny's specialty. Remember?"

"It required boiling water and stirring," Benny answered. "But it was good. Alison hates Raman."

"Alison comes from money. Of course she hates Raman. My mother hates Raman," Mark said as he scrambled off the tabletop. "I think we have a pot you can use."

"Thanks. That would be great." She leaned against the table and studied the couch and its two occupants. Honestly, she was quickly becoming more scared about cooking. Her mother had been great at it, but her one attempt when she was twelve had been a disaster. Perhaps she really did need a burst of good luck to ensure an error free meal.

She stepped towards the back of couch, pausing just behind Benny. Hell, she hated her theory, but damnit, it added up. It always added up. She sighed and reached out, rubbing Benny's head a moment.

"Hey!" Roger was up in an instant. "What are you doing?"

"Yeah, Mimi, what *are* you doing?" Benny asked, touching the spot where her hand had just been.

She felt foolish and silly, but she didn't need Roger's jealously to jump back into the picture. She shrugged. "I needed good luck."

The response surprised her. Mark burst out laughing. She was somewhat surprised when Roger shot him a dirty look.

"She found your trick, Roger," he said, after he'd finally settled down. "Roger used to joke, way back when he, Collins, Benny, and I lived together, that Benny's head was a fountain of good luck. Like rubbing a bowling ball. He even rubbed it one night before a gig. I think he met April that night, so you could say it brought him a little luck."

She didn't care much for the mention of April, but the idea that Roger understood her quirk was exactly what she needed. She looked down at her boyfriend. "Really?"

"Uh, can I plead the fifth?" Roger responded with a tight smile.

"You can plead whatever you want," she told him, leaning down to kiss him before heading back towards the kitchen area and the pot Mark was currently filling with water.

Guess she'd soon find out if she got her luck, though a part of her realized that perhaps she didn't really need it anymore.