A/N:  Okay.  Someone mentioned previously that there was a serious lack of humor here.  Thus, humor.  This has been in my head for AGES, now.  Literally, ages.  Like, a few years, but it never made it to the computer.  Well, being that it's a Friday and there is absolutely NOTHING good on TV tonight, here I am!  Special thanks to Bucklind for her concept of Mark's teddy bear. 

Enjoy!

Angel and Collins stopped before the door to the loft, their arms hooked around each other's waists, Angel laying his head on his lover's shoulder.

It had been a long day.  The boy moaned, and closed his eyes.

Collins laughed, and kissed the top of the dark head.  "You okay, baby?"

Angel smiled warmly.  "I'm fine.  Just tired.  I feel like I could sleep for a year..."

Collins laughed again and turned the boy to face him, kissing his forehead.  "I know.  It's been a long day."

Angel fell against the older man's body, almost lifeless.  "Mmmmph."  Came the muffled reply from his face, against Tom's shirt.  Tom smiled, stroking the dark hair.

"Anything I can do to make you feel better, sweetie?"

A moment of silence, before the drag queen looked up to regard his partner with a rather naughty grin.

"Well...I AM feeling pretty stressed..." the boy wrapped one long dreadlock around his finger, his smile widening.

Immediately, Tom blushed, before whispering back:

"Well, what are we gonna do about that?"  His own lips curved into a naughty smile all it's own.

Angel giggled seductively, before reaching up and kissing Tom passionately, long, torrid.  He left the older man with his eyes wide as basketballs, a frozen smile of obvious pleasure on his face.

"Oh, I think you KNOW what you can do about that...." Angel took hold of Tom's shirt, and the teacher giggled boyishly as the drummer lead him into the loft, shutting the door behind them with a bang. 

Roger headed up the stairs towards the loft, carrying his guitar over his shoulder.  It had been a long day. A long day that he was hoping he would be able to forget VERY soon. 

See now, why do people say that?  Isn't that just stating the obvious? I mean, all these people are always saying, "it's been a long day."  A day is 24 hours.  No SHIT it's long.  How is it that having a bad experience DURING those twenty-four hours could suddenly somehow magically LENGTHEN the time existing during said day?  It can't.  It's impossible.  Why not just say you had a BAD day?  Time had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Whoa, that was totally unintentional.  My apologies.  Ahem.

The day was SO LONG, in fact, that one could even argue—

ACK!  Sorry.  I'm stopping now.

It was a bad day.

And the fact that it was pouring rain didn't do much to lift his spirits. 

Fishing around, he found his key in his pocket, and inserted it into the lock.  Just as he was about to turn it and open the door, a strange sound echoed through the door.

"Ooooooooo....."

Roger stopped abruptly, and his eyebrows rose.  He carefully pulled the key out of the lock, and stood there frozen, listening once more for the noise.

"Mmmmmm....ooooooo....."

If he didn't know any better, it sounded like someone was...moaning.

Sheer panic rose in the musician's throat.  Was he being robbed?  Was someone in there, attacked during a burglary and bleeding to death?  Were they still in there, mauling and torturing the body in mindless ways that couldn't even be fathomed by normal human comprehension?

"Ahhhhh...."

Roger stepped back from the doorway, heart pounding. 

And fell into a soaking wet Mark. 

"Yiiiiiiiiiiii!"  Roger shrieked.  You see, he hadn't heard Mark.  Normally, the stairwells in the damn building were so loud and echoed you could hear bread go stale in it, but today, Mark just appeared because I felt like making him appear, so there.

Mark cried out in terror himself, just as a thunderous bang exploded overhead.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Lights flickered and the walls shook.  When the two finally calmed down, a very shaken Mark, clutching his camera to him, looked wide-eyed at the blonde guitarist, dripping wet.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

Roger raised one eyebrow.  "I live here."

Mark's panicked gaze subsided just as quickly as it arose.  "Oh.  Yeah.  Right.  Anyway, what are you standing out here for?  Can't we go inside?  Teddy doesn't like it when I leave him alone, thunderstorms scare him."  Mark nodded seriously, eyes wide.

Roger stared at him.

"Don't worry Mark.  I'm sure he's under your pillow like always, far away from the sto—''

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!"  The moaning from the loft swelled up once again, echoing off the walls.

Mark jumped.  "What the hell was that?"

Roger shuddered.  "I don't know."

"You don't think we're being robbed, do you?!  No one else has the key!"

Roger pushed Mark against the wall, both of them still looking at the door.  "I think it's a good idea we just stay out here for now.  Lord knows what lingers beyond yonder wall.  Could'st be a tempted twist of hallowed fate, that sucks thy soul dry of life, that—''

"Look, Roger, about this whole Shakespeare kick your on, it's just NOT—''

"Ewwwwww, Shakespeare?  Yuck.  He's so dry."  Maureen pushed through the doorway to the stairwell suddenly, causing both men to jump.  "A REAL actress, like moi, for example," she struck a dramatic pose, "wouldn't waste her amazing talent and extraordinary good looks working with such tedious mayhem." 

Mark scoffed.  "No, rather, you'd just sleep with the director." 

Roger scoffed.  "Oh, it's just you."

Maureen scoffed.  "What's going on?  Why are we all standing out here?"

And they scoffed and scoffed some more, until there really was just a whole heck of a lot of scoffing going on.

"OH, YES!!!"

Suddenly, the three froze, looking at the door in awe.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mark whispered.

"Okay.  I'm just taking a wild guess here, but I'm pretty sure no one likes being tortured."

"Unless you're Mimi."

"Oh shut up."

"Oooooooh....oh, oh BABY...YES!"

Suddenly, Roger's brow furrowed, as he crept towards the door, being as quiet as possible.

"You like that, huh?"

"Oh, I LOVE it!  So good...."

Roger's eyes widened.  "Wait a second...doesn't that sound like...?"

"DAMN RAIN!!"

JoAnne strode through the door to the stairwell, shaking out her coat.  Her eyes, firey, flew to Maureen, who was trying to hide the umbrella in her hand out of sight.

"YOU!!!  You took the umbrella!!!!"

"I was going for a walk!!"

"Oh, really!  And it never occurred to you that maybe I would like to take a walk too?  So you just ASSUMED you could go ahead and TAKE the umbrella, was that it?"

"Guys..."  Mark groaned.

"You're so selfish!"

"Well, you're too possessive!  Good God, now you wanna keep tabs on your umbrella?  You're sick, woman!"

"AHHH!!! YES!! YES!!! THAT'S THE SPOT!"

Maureen and JoAnne's heads snapped in the direction of the doorway.

Maureen trembled.  "Oh my God!  They've found the secret spot where I keep all of my cheap padded push up bras!!  If they take even one of them, I swear to God..." her eyes blazed.

Roger rolled his.  "No, guys, um, I...I don't think someone's getting, um, robbed in there, or hurt.  At least, not in any BAD way..."  he cleared his throat, uncomfortable.

Mark trembled.  "Oh my GOD!  They've found Teddy!  Nooooo!"

Again, Roger rolled his green orbs of sexy color.  "NO!  Um, I think that someone is...uh...I think that...um..."

JoAnne's brow furrowed.

"Who's having sex in your apartment?"

Roger giggled nervously.

"That pretty much sums it up."

"OH, YES!"

 "LIKE THAT?!"

"HARDER!!  NICE AND HARD!"

Mark and Maureen's eyes widened as JoAnne plopped down on the floor, still pouting over being soaked to the bone.

Mark looked incredulous.  "You mean, someone is...is..."  He made a grandiose gesture with his hands clearly indicating only one thing.

Maureen laughed.  "Wow."  A beat.  "Wait...who?"

The four looked at each other, a silence lingering, before...

Then, in one split second, all four were leaned against the doorway, ears pressed against the oak wood, giggling and trying their hardest not to make too much noise.

Just then Mimi walked through the doorway from the stairwell and was greeted with four asses sticking in her direction.  Four very nice asses, mind you, but c'mon, now would you react to that?

Well, she must've been much more used to it than I would be, per say, because she simply shrugged, and let her long curly hair fall down out of its bun, all the while cursing the black leather that was sticking to her thighs from the short skirt she was obliged to wear to work.

The group didn't even notice her, however, as she crept up behind them, looking intently at the hard wood door.

"Um...what are we doing?"

Mark giggled.  "Someone's having...well...doing naughty things in there!"  He whispered like a little boy.

Mimi stared at him.

"Uh huh."

"We just don't know who," Maureen whispered, grinning ear to ear.

"That hard enough?!"  A definite male voice broke through the door, sounding out of breath, but tainted with a giggle.

"Oh, YES!  Nice and hard, just like that! Oooooo!"  Another male voice, much higher than the first, panting very hard and moaning ceremoniously.

Mimi's eyebrows rose.

"Um, guys?  Are you deaf?"

The four turned to look at her, confused.

"What do you mean?"

Mimi rolled her eyes.  "Okay.  Obviously, it's somebody who knows you, or knows how to get into your apartment.  Let's do a head count, shall we?  I'm here.  Maureen, you're here.  JoAnne, Roger, Mark, you're all here.  Missing someone?  Or someONES?"  She gave them a look.

The group exchanged looks among themselves, before their eyes widened in realization at who exactly was on the other side of the door.

"Oh, my GOD!  Collins and Angel?!"

"AGAIN?!"

"Do they ALWAYS have to do this whenever we're not around?"

"Like it makes a difference?  They do it even when we ARE around."

Mimi laughed.  "Sorry to burst your bubble, but c'mon, who else could it be?"

The group shrugged.  "True."

A moment of silence passed, before they all burst into giggles, pressing their ears against the door once again.

This time even Mimi joined them.

"OH, my GOD!  OH!! YOU'RE INCREDIBLE!!  YOU'RE THE BEST!!! OH, YES!  A little to the right, RIGHT THERE!!  LIKE THAT! OOOOOooooooo!"  No doubts, it was definitely Angel's voice, hoarse and raspy, echoing on the other side of the door.

The five laughed furiously.

"How bout..."  Collins' voice was tinted with a grunt.  "If I did...THAT?!"

"OH, GOD!!!!  OH!!!  SO GOOD!  DON'T STOP!!! PLEASE DON'T STOP!!!!"

JoAnne, blushing furiously, looked up at the group with a mischievous eye.

"You know what would be HORRIBLE..."

The four returned her gaze, and for a split second their brows crinkled, before Roger caught on to what she was talking about.   He looked at Mark, and grinned evilly.

Mark grinned evilly back, then grinned evilly at Mimi.

Who grinned evilly at Maureen.

Who grinned evilly at Benny, who had magically appeared at her side, and who I just kinda plopped there cuz I didn't think this chain-reaction grinning evilly down the line thingy would work as well if there wasn't at least one more person on the end.

"Oh...that would just be..."

"We shouldn't."

"No shit we shouldn't.  That's why we should!"

"I don't wanna see them like that!"  Roger's voice, high and nervous, trembled.

The rest of the group fixed him with a look.

"Okay, fine, I admit!  I'd LOVE to catch them like that!"  The man blushed as they dissolved into giggles once again.

"God, we'll have one up on them for the rest of their LIVES!"

More giggles.

"Oh, yeah, that's it!  Get them nice and WET....ooooooooh!"  Angel shrieked with pleasure as they heard Collins' voice shudder with a husky giggle.

Maureens jaw dropped.  "JEEZE!"

The group laughed, and Mimi silenced them with a motion of her hands.

"Okay.  On the count of three—Roger, get that key in the door—on the count of three, we're gonna bust in there, okay?!"

"Okay."

The six stood up quietly, ready for their grand entrance.  The moans and groans from the loft rose up to high heaven, penetrating loudly into the hallway.  Mimi stifled a laugh, before beginning the countdown.

"One..."

Roger inserted the key.

"Two..."

Roger turned it.

Mimi took a deep breath, before letting out a howl of laughter.

"THREE!!!!"

Roger burst open the door, and the group spilled into the loft in a big heap.

"GOTCHAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa...................."

The surprise yell petered out almost instantly into a pathetic putter and then nothing but silence.

Collins and Angel, however, jumped about a hundred feet high, and let out terrified yelps, gasping for breath.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Everyone's eyes widened as she took in the scene laid out before her.

Tom and Angel were sitting on the couch, both quite fully clothed, mind you.  Their eyes were wide with terror at the sudden entry, but anyone could clearly see what they had been up to not even seconds before.

A large canister of moisturizer sat on the coffee table.  Angel was lying down, his bare feet resting in Collins' lap and slathered up in the oily mixture.  Tom's hands, wrapped around the what appeared to be very swollen ankles, were also covered with the pink cream.

Off to the side of the couch, a pair of very high-heeled, large purple clogs lay in a heap.

Angel sighed, calming down, and gave the group a sweet, innocent smile.  The boy giggled at the looks of shock on their faces.

"Wow guys...you look like you've never seen anyone get a foot massage before..."