Hey! Ok, this is my first RentFic, and it's a little weird, so bear with me. I'm gonna thank BohemianCane04 for the inspiration, cuz I got the idea while reading her story Even Angels Fall (which I haven't reviewd yet but I swear I will!). Ok, I dont want any flames telling me that Angel is OOC, because that's the point!

I don't own Rent or the characters sigh but if I did, I would hug Angel Dumott Schunard every day before bed!

Collins entered his apartment and his head was immediately overwhelmed with a horridly acrid chemical smell that could only mean one thing: Angel was doing her nails.

"Phew, Angel!" he laughed, waving a hand in front of his face. "Can't you do that somewhere that isn't the apartment?"

"Where else? The Eleventh Street Lot?" Angel replied, holding her left hand up in front of her face and admiring her nails, which she was painting a drop dead gorgeous shade of sparkling pink. She put the polish brush back into the little glass container on the chipped, watermarked coffee table in front of her, then dipped a Q-tip into nail polish remover and dabbed at a pesky spot of color that had strayed past the line of her acrylic nail and onto her skin. Then with her hand still up, she looked over at her lover, smiling a sexy little smirk.

She got up and went over to Collins, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "How was school?"

"Terrible."

"Aw, poor baby." She smoothed his hair with the hand that she had not painted the nails of yet. "I think I know what will make you feel better." She scurried in her fluffy blue slippers to the kitchen area and pulled out of the fridge a bottle of champagne and off the counter a box of chocolates. She came back and thrust them into Collins' hands, beaming.

"Angel—"

"Now don't you dare say I didn't have to," she said, shaking her finger at him. "There was a group of kids on a school trip from Ohio who I'm willing to bet have never seen a street drummer in their life. I was a blast; they were dancing and laughing and for once I actually felt like my beat was doing something for people. They really enjoyed it. And they tipped well. And then I thought of my poor Collins up in a stuffy classroom tutoring snotty little brats. The least I could do was get you some chocolate and give you a romantic evening.

"Now," she put her hands on his strong chest and looked up into his big chocolate eyes, "you go take a shower, I'll finish my nails, and then we can open up that bottle of champagne, okay, Love?" She kissed him again and then grinned, and sent him on his way, sitting back down to attempt painting her right hand. It was awkward using her left, but she had been doing this for three years.

When her nails were done, she put her manicure supplies back in their box and slipped it under the coffee table. She straightened up the whole room, putting the mismatched pillows on the couch at identical angles, putting away askew books, magazines, and various pieces of junk where they belonged, and brushing off the table with her hand. Then she found two candles in a drawer and set them on the coffee table.

When Collins came back into the living room, his hair still wet from the shower, but dressed nicely in jeans and a shirt that made him look sexy, Angel dashed past him to get changed herself. He caught her by the arm, laughing.

"Angel, what are you doing?"

"Getting changed. I just don't feel attractive enough in this for a romantic night." She indicated her PJ pants, slippers, and tank top.

"Angel, baby, you look beautiful. You know I don't give a damn what you're wearing. I love you."

"I know," Angel smirked. "Not to pop your ego, but I don't make myself pretty for you. I make myself pretty because it makes me happy. I dress for myself. Getting dolled up just puts me in the mood," she purred seductively.

She heard faintly as she disappeared into the tiny bedroom Collins say something along the lines of, "Making yourself pretty is about the only thing you do for yourself," but she ignored it. Collins seemed to feel that by putting everyone else before herself all the time, Angel was denying her own happiness. He thought that it was very sweet, and was what he loved about her most, but he wanted her to be happy, and thought that she was making herself unhappy. She loved him to death, but he just could not seem to grasp that Angel could have absolutely nothing and still be happy as long as she could make other people happy.

She found a hot pink miniskirt, a pretty shirt, and bright colored knee-high socks. She didn't bother with her wig or makeup, because she did know, perfectly well, that her looks didn't matter to Collins.

"I'm doing this for myself as well as you, my darling," she said quietly, checking out her reflection as she heard the telephone ring. "There is nothing this girl wants more right now than whispered words and sweet kisses."

She walked out of the bedroom just as Collins was picking up the phone.

"Hello?" he said in his deep voice. "… No, there's no Andy here, I think you have the wrong—"

"What!" Angel shrieked. She tore the phone from a very shocked Collins' hands. "Hello!" she said frantically into the receiver.

The voice on the other end was that of a confused-sounding man. "Hi? Um, I'm looking for Andy Schunard?"

Angel cleared her throat and lowered her voice, feeling very flustered. "This is he."

Collins looked at her like she was an alien.

The guy on the phone continued. "Andy! Hey, it's me, Jason Thompson?"

It took every ounce of Angel's will power not to squeal. "Jason!" she said in macho excitement. "Hey, man, it's been forever! What are you up to?"

Collins' mouth had dropped open.

"I'm in New York on business," Jason said. "I remembered you had run off here to start a music career, and I've barely heard from you since. I was wondering if while I'm in town, you wanted to get a drink or something. My wife's with me, I'd love for her to meet you."

"That sounds… great."

"Great. Well, there's this place called the Life Café we went to the night we got in, I think you'd really like it. Have you heard of it?"

"Oh yeah. I love it."

"I figured you would. I assumed you couldn't have changed that much."

"Heh…. Yeah…."

"So, how about seven o'clock tomorrow?"

"Sounds great."

"Are you seeing anyone right now? Because if you are, bring her if you can. You know, keep Misty—that's my wife—occupied while we catch up. She hates being stuck in the middle of 'guy' conversation. And I'd love to meet her."

"No… I'm not…. I don't…." Angel faltered, looking up at Collins. "I'm not seeing anyone."

The look of hurt on Collins' face crushed her.

"I have to go, Jason, is there a number I can reach you at?" Jason gave Angel his cell phone number. "Great, I'll see you tomorrow."

She hung up and quickly faced Collins, whose eyes were wide.

"Who the hell," he said shakily, his voice cracking, "Is Jason?" There were actually tears in his eyes.

"Collins," Angel breathed. "Oh Collins, baby, it is not what it sounds like."

"Then what is it?"

"He's my best friend from high school. I haven't seen him in years. He's in town and wants to get together." She put her hands on his chest, sensing his doubt. "Collins. I would never do that to you. I love you. You are the only man in my life, I swear it."

He nodded. He believed her because he knew that she really would never do that.

"Why did he call you Andy?"

Angel bit the corner of her lip. "Because... that's my real name. Well, I mean, the name on my birth certificate." Collins looked confused. "Collins, it's not like my parents went and named their baby boy 'Angel.' I'm Andrew Dumott Schunard. I changed my name to Angel three years ago, when I figured out that this," she indicated her skirt and nails, "is who I am. There is no more Andy. This is me."

Collins put his hands on Angel's hips. "I'm glad this is you," he said sweetly. Angel smiled, but it faded quickly.

"What?" Collins asked her.

"Nothing, it's just…." She leaned into her lover, putting her head on his chest and listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. "Jason was my very best friend, but there were certain things… that I didn't tell him, because he's a little…. Well…."

"A little well what?"

"…..Homophobic."

Collins tilted her chin so that she was looking at him. "Your best friend is homophobic?"

Angel nodded miserably. "But other than that, he's great. I really want to see him again because it's been so long, but…." She sighed. "Look at me, I can't show up like this. He'll flip out."

Collins held her tight. "Then he doesn't matter…."

"But that's just it, he does matter!" Angel insisted. "He sounds so excited to see me again, and I can't not go, because he'll be upset, but I can't go acting like Angel, or he'll still be upset!"

"Angel," Collins said soothingly, smoothing her hair. "Angel, you can't keep everyone happy all the time. It's not possible."

"But—"

"Shh." He put his finger to her lips. "I don't want to hear another word about it." He pulled her to the couch and lit the candles on the table with a lighter from his pocket. "Forget about him. Right now, all that matters is you and me." He sat down beside her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and her neck.

She was starting to forget about Jason already. "Mmm, I love you, Collins."

"I love you, my Angel."

What do ya think? Bad? Good? If you review, I'll hug you every night before bed!... unless you think that's creepy and then I wont Love and kisses!