Disclaimer: They're Jon's. Not mine. Thank you.
Author's Notes: Um... well, here we go - my initial foray into my claim. God have mercy. This April is NOT the version from the movie - short-haired red-head junkie April Ericsson who catches Roger's eye while he's playing a gig? Not this April. She's got dark brown hair, and it's down to her mid-back, she doesn't go to clubs, and she's a writer. So there. I'm done now - everyone say hello to April Cornwell.
April hadn't planned on working the graveyard shift at the diner - she'd been planning on going to the Well Hungarins concert with Maureen. But when her manager had called her, practically begging for help... well, she'd seen the Well Hungarians before, even if Maureen hadn't, and Maur could meet up with April's friend at the concert; besides, the two girls could always use a little more flow - especially given Maureen's chronic lack-of-job. So she'd gone, worked the graveyard shift, gotten off at 6:30, grabbed some coffee and a bagel, and headed home to sleep, only to find that she couldn't get inside home.
"I lost my key, 'Ril, can I use yours tonight?" Maureen had begged. "I'll be home before you and I'll make sure to sleep on the couch so I can hear when you get back!" April had balked at first, knowing how deeply Maureen could sleep, but in the end she decided she'd rather be locked out than have her best friend off sleeping with some random stranger from the club. Again.
"Maureen!" April shouted for the fourth or fifth time, pounding on their door. "Open up already!"
"Hey, shut up, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep!" A crabby male voice griped from across the hall. "It's not even seven, and anyway, she's not there." April gaped for a moment at her neighbor, who was obviously either majorly hung over or sick.
"You sure, Mr. Allen?" she asked finally.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Mr. Allen glared vaguely at her. "I was up all night coughing."
"Okay, thanks." April smiled sympathetically at him. "Feel better." Mr. Allen grunted and went back inside. April sighed and tried to think of what to do. Three minutes later, she was at a payphone down the street. "C'mon, honey, pick up!" she begged softly.
"Hey, you'ved reached the Loft." Came a rich baritone voice. April groaned and kicked the side of the phone booth. "There's a beep coming up - you know what to do with it." The beep sounded overly harsh and tinny coming from the old pay phone.
"Hey, baby, it's 'Ril," April sighed. "Are you up? Are any of you up? Please, somebody pick up the pho--"
"Hello?" a sleepy voice asked. April paused for a second, trying to match the voice with a name.
"Benny?" she ventured.
"Yeah, who's this?"
"It's April. Sorry if I woke you up."
"No prob. What's up?"
"Well, my roommate Maureen? I was going to take her to last night's concert, but I ended up having to go to work for graveyard shift, and she has our only key and she's not home and I was wondering if Mark saw her leave with anybody? Or you, I don't know if you were--"
"She's over here." Benny sighed. "But I don't know if you'll be able to get your key just yet."
"Why not?" April shivered a little in the early-morning chill.
"Just... come over and Mark'll explain it. I'll wake him up. After which I will go back to bed."
"Okay." April laughed a little. "See you in a few."
"We had no idea she had your key." Mark sighed when he opened the door. "I wouldn't have let her come if I'd known."
"It's alright." April tried not to giggle at her friend's appearance. His clothes were rumpled, like he'd slept in them, and his hair was sticking out every which way. His glasses were nowhere to be found, and by the way he was still poking around after he closed the door behind her, she guessed he hadn't found them since he woke up. "Anyway," she continued as Mark happily produced the abused eyewear from under a milkcrate, "Just point me to her purse and I'll grab the key."
"Well, um... that's the thing..." Mark grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more, if possible. "It's in my room. With her. And... Roger." April stared blankly. Mark bit his lip. "See, they really hit it off last night at the concert..."
"What our little Jewboy's trying to say, " came a deep voice from the kitchen, "Is that Roger and your friend locked themselves in, and judging by the racket they were making all night, we don't exactly want to venture in there." April glanced over, recognizing the voice from the answering machine. The tall black man wandered in with a cup of coffee, grinning wickedly, and April found his grin very contagious - she couldn't help herself from grinning back. "Tom Collins, anarchist philosophy teacher." he introduced himself, holding out his hand. April shook it firmly.
"April Cornwell, writer posing as a waitress. Or visa-versa." she replied. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"You as well." he winked. "Mark hasn't stopped talking about you for weeks. We think he might be in love with you." he whispered jokingly.
"Hey, that's not true!" Mark protested. April giggled - she loved seeing Mark interact with his roommates, he was quite a bit different here than the silent wallflower she'd met in writing class. She smiled fondly at the two men as they argued back and forth. Finally, she yawned widely.
"Okay, guys?" she asked. "You mind if I just crash on your couch until she comes out? I worked graveyard last night, and..." she yawned again. Mark smacked himself in the forehead.
"Right, sorry, I'll unfold the bed - it's a futon." he smiled wryly. "That's where I slept last night."
"You're welcome to anything in the kitchen, by the way." Collins added, ruffling her hair. April laughed.
"Thanks. Nice meeting you, Tom."
"It's just Collins. And same back at you."
"Ril! Mark! Breakfast, get up!" Benny grabbed the blanket off the two sleeping figures on the futon and went back to check on the waffles he was making...or, really, defrosting in the toaster. April groaned and curled up against Mark's back.
"Benny, that's MEAN!" she called out.
"You're wearing my pajamas, shut up and come eat." he replied. April growled slightly and started muttering under her breath, but shoved Mark a little.
"Wake up, sleepyhead." she said. Mark flapped an arm around and managed to whack her in the head. Her response was, of course, to shove him off onto the cold floor.
"You're getting way too comfortable here..." he grumbled, looking around for his glasses. April laughed.
"Well, if we weren't all afraid of going in your room, I wouldn't still be here!" she said, pushing his glasses onto his face. He blinked a couple times and shrugged. It had been a week since April had shown up looking for her roommate, and Maureen and Roger had hardly come out of the room, and never together - and by the state of dress they came out in, no one wanted to risk going in - not even April.
"Thanks for breakfast, Benny." April commented a few minutes later as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "And remind me to thank Collins for finding me some... well, girl's clothes?"
"No prob...lem?" Benny started to say, but stopped when the sounds of shouting came from the locked bedroom. All three turned to look at the closed door.
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU DO!" came Roger's voice.
"YEAH? WELL I'LL JUST LEAVE THEN!" Maureen screeched. The door flew open and Maureen stalked out, jacket and purse in hand.
"FINE!" Roger shouted, throwing a pillow after her.
"FINE!" Maureen replied, and headed for the door. She caught a glimpse of April and frowned briefly, but shook her head. "Ril, we're leaving. Now." April's eyebrows shot up.
"I'd... I'd better go." she said sheepishly and started collecting her things as quickly as she could.
"Well, um... it was nice having you." Mark shrugged, glancing at Roger, who was glowering in his doorway.
"Tell Tom I'll see him later, 'kay?" she asked as she pulled her shoes on.
"APRIL!"
"I'llseeyoulater,bye!" she turned and rushed out, waffle in hand.
"Well, that's that." Benny shrugged. "Guess you can move back into your room now."
"Yeah..." Mark answered distractedly. He was too busy contemplating how Roger's face had changed when he'd seen April, and how he was still staring at the door she'd just closed. "But for how long?"