My first Rent fic in what seems like forever. And of course, it was bound to be a MarkMaureen fluff. ;D

Disclaimer: I ain't Jonathan Larson.

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Mark passed through the dark living room of the loft, stumbling into a wall halfway across. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before continuing to his room. A small noise caught his attention and he turned to see a foreign figure on the couch, covered by a blanket. It took him several seconds to realize that it was Maureen Johnson, the girl Collins had invited to live with them a few weeks ago. He blushed a little just looking at her. She was his first significant female contact since his mother, sister, and a large number of aunts. He considered her very beautiful, and had heard her singing in the shower last week; it was the prettiest thing he had ever heard.

She was always very nice to him and had even told him that he was adorable. He hated that. His bumbling way with females always made them think of a little brother or cousin, when he wanted a more romantic connection. He sighed and crawled into his bed and went to sleep.

"Mark?" a voice inquired.

"Hrmph?" he asked sleepily.

"Mark!" the voice hissed more urgently.

He sat up groggily and saw Maureen Johnson standing beside his bed. He gasped, pulled the covers up to his chin, and frantically felt for his glasses on his bedside table. Once he had slid them over his ears, he looked at Maureen again.

Her hair was lightly tousled and she was pale. He discreetly pinched himself under the blankets in case he was dreaming.

When he didn't say anything, Maureen continued. "Mark, I had a nightmare."

Mark nodded stupidly.

"Um, I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight."

Mark pinched himself again, harder this time. When he didn't wake up, he said, "Uh. Sure."

"Thanks."

She stood there awkwardly for another moment before he scooted over and made room for her. She climbed in and snuggled against him. He realized, with some concern, that she was trembling. That must have been one hell of a dream, he thought to himself, realizing that he had never seen her behave so humbly or act so frightened.

With some surprise, he realized that she was already asleep. Her head was buried in his chest, and he could smell her strawberry-scented hair. He noticed that the overly-large t-shirt she was wearing had slipped a little, and he could see a creamy shoulder peeking out at him. One of her legs was pressed against his and he was afraid to move, just in case she repositioned herself farther away from him. Not sure what to do with his arms, he clumsily encircled them around her back. He pinched his wrist once more and fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of his door being knocked on.

"Come in," he said blearily, without even opening his eyes.

The door creaked open and Collins' voice filled the room. "Oh my, what have we here?"

It had always amazed Mark that he could tell exactly what facial expression Collins was making when he said something. By the sound of that last statement, he was smiling very broadly. Mark opened his eyes and gasped. He had completely forgotten that there was someone else in the bed with him. Not much had changed since last night except that he and Maureen were pressed even closer than before. Collins leaned on the doorway, cigarette in hand and the huge smile that Mark had predicted on his face.

"You two got busy, huh?" he asked with another grin.

"Shove off, Collins," Maureen said without moving or opening her eyes, surprising Mark, who had thought she was still asleep.

"Hey, guys!" Collins called back through the doorway, a wicked smirk on his face. Mark groaned and tried to bury his face in his pillow.

Roger and Benny appeared in the bedroom. Both began laughing nearly immediately.

"Mark finally gets some!" Roger cackled.

"How'd he manage to get you in here, Maureen?" Benny asked with a chortle.

"I came to him," Maureen said coolly, "Now if you don't mind, I need to find my underwear. Goodbye, boys."

With one last chuckle, Collins, Benny, and Roger left the room, the latter winking at Mark before heading out the door.

"Sorry about that," said Maureen breezily, "I hope you don't mind me letting them think what they want. I have a reputation, you know." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "I think a minute and a half is enough time for me to have supposedly gotten dressed. Bye, Marky."

Mark blushed at his newly acquired nickname.

"Oh, and Marky?" she said, poking her head back in the door, "Maybe we should do it again some time. For real." With a wink very much like Roger's she left the room.

Mark knew he had turned crimson. He shook his head and pinched himself again, just for good measure.