Fenny glared at her computer monitor. She’d been glaring at the damn thing for the last 25 minutes. The graphics in front of her seemed to just morph into an array of colours and the headache that was threatening to explode several blood vessels seemed in no way ready to abate. There had been times over the last month that she would have been happy to be back whoring herself in Amsterdam rather than having to listen to Lilly watching cartoons loudly or, as she had recently chosen to do, scream at the top of her lungs for the last 25 minutes.

It wasn’t that Fenny resented being Lilly’s surrogate mother, even though she did. It wasn’t that Lilly and Mochrie combined had destroyed half her possessions in the first week, including a rather expensive vase from her favorite aunt. No, it was that Brad, bloody Brad, seemed to think that she, being his wife, was automatically Lilly’s babysitter. It appeared Brad had forgotten Fenny’s strong distaste for children of any size, shape or form.

She pushed her swivel chair back and got to her feet, the throbbing in her head making her dizzy for a second. She padded into the living room, which was covered in the various toys that Lilly had chosen to play with and then quickly forgotten. Fenny felt a wave of self-pity engulf her. Her life had been totally turned upside-down by a small child who was currently using a crayon to scribble on the varnished wooden coffee table.

“Lilly, please don’t do that,” Fenny begged as she shuffled into the bathroom to hunt out the aspirin. She found the jar behind the cough medicine and quickly downed a three. At this point she’d usually try and have a quiet lie down, but there was no chance of that. She walked back into the living room to find that Lilly had ignored her completely.

“Lilly, I asked you not to do that,” Fenny sighed and took the crayon off her as she tried to ignore the green scribbles on her coffee table. Lilly looked at her blankly before grabbing a purple crayon and continuing with her artwork.

“If you were mine I’d belt you,” Fenny muttered as she wandered back into the study. She took one look at her monitor and decided that she was already behind, so getting more behind wouldn’t matter. She traipsed into the bedroom, noting on the way that Lilly had taken to using a blue crayon and fell into the bed.

“I am never, ever having sex with that man again,” she announced to no one in particular. Mochrie appeared and sprawled out on the floor, while Jaguar joined Fenny on the bed. It seemed even the pets were fed up with being nice to Lilly.

Gina let out a long yawn. Twenty-four hours on a plane was enough to screw anyone up. The upside, however, was that it was promising to be a warm, sunny spring day, and that was a darn sight better than the cold, wet days of London she’d had to endure alone. She unlocked the door to Paul’s apartment and dragged her bag inside. She dropped her hand luggage and the duty free she’d picked up for Paul on the couch and let out another yawn. She looked around the room, dimly lit by the early morning light, and was pleased that the air smelled of its usual strange mix of aftershave, beer and cat food. It was nice to be home.

She made her way to the bedroom and smiled when she saw Paul sprawled on the bed, the sheets barely covering him and Lewis nestled between his feet. She kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed. Lewis opened one eye and closed it again, a happy purr forming in his throat.

“Pauly,” Gina cooed as she ran a finger gently down his spine. He flinched but didn’t wake up. “Pauly,” she tried again, this time stroking his hair. Lewis looked up before stretching his paws out. A wicked smile spread across her lips, “MCDERMOTT!” she snapped. His eyes popped open and he jumped up sending Lewis flying onto the floor.

“Jesus fucking…” Paul words were lost as he rubbed his face.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” she smirked.

“Never wake a man who’s been drinking tequila shots,” he grumbled. “Especially at…” he paused and squinted at the clock.

“6:32am.”

“6:32am? Fucking hell,” he groaned and fell back onto the pillows. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” she sighed as she lay down beside him. “Why were you drinking tequila shots?”

“I don’t remember,” he mused. “You didn’t call and say you were due back, did you? I really can’t remember anything other than Mikey turning up.”

“No, I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did. I was having a great dream about Buffy. I was a vampire and we were doing it in a coffin.”

“I don’t know how good that is, hon. Dreaming about coffins can’t be good, can it?”

“Probably not, but Sarah Michelle in sheer black panties is.”

“See, now you’ve lost me,” Gina sighed. “Are you happy that I’m home or not?”

“Aww,” Paul cooed as he teased her closer to him. “Of course I’m happy you’re home. The washing is really starting to pile up.” Gina narrowed her eyes. “I’m kidding, don’t hate me, not at…” he paused and looked at the clock. “6:34am when I’m considerably hungover.”

“I’ll grab my things and leave,” Gina huffed.

“Go on then.”

Gina snuggled into Paul. “I can’t be arsed, I’m too tired.” Paul smiled to himself and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

Greg flicked through the age-old copy of National Geographic, his spirits lifting when he turned the page to see a special supplement on Mongolia.

“Well I never, they do raise goats,” he mused, causing the man across from him to look at him strangely. “What? You’ve never considered raising goats?”

“The goat is the symbol of the dark lord,” the man spat.

“No, really? No wonder The Three Billy Goats Gruff scared the hell out of me,” Greg mocked as the man stayed stoic.

“Excuse me, Mr Proops,” perked the girl at the reception desk. “Dr. Nicholson will see you now.”

“Oh goody,” Greg announced sarcastically as he headed across the room to a heavy wooden door. The gold nameplate that glinted in the fluorescent lighting read “Dr. Judy Nicholson,” who was by and large the best therapist in the building. There were better therapists in LA, but Judy was whom his wife had insisted he consult with since she and Jennifer had bonded instantly. This in itself made Greg cringe at the mere mention of her name. He reluctantly pushed open the door as the small, thin woman in smart slacks finished watering a plant on her desk.

“Ah Greg, long time no see,” she smiled.

“Yeah, such a shame. I’ve been missing our little sessions like, oh I don’t know, family Christmases.”

“Now Greg, what did we say about sarcasm?”

“It’s just a way of humorously covering my true feelings.”

“Correct. Now be honest with me.”

“Okay. I’d rather be having my eyeballs removed by pigmy children in some weird-ass tribal ceremony than sitting in this claustrophobic little office with you.”

“Much better. So tell me,” Judy smiled as she took a seat in a padded cream coloured chair while Greg slumped into the matching couch, “how did your holiday go?”

“Well Judy, it wasn’t so much a holiday. I was working…”

“Doing stand up?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did you find the gigs?”

“They went very well, I had some great reviews. One newspaper described me as the best comedian of my kind. Although, I haven’t quite worked out whether that’s a good or a bad thing.”

“Yes, but how were they?”

Greg looked blankly for a moment. “Nice.”

“How did you feel when you were on stage?”

“Drunk. I met Paul beforehand and we spent the afternoon drinking shots of everything.”

“Paul?”

“Gina’s husband. The small angry one you think needs sedating.”

“Okay, why did you go drinking with Paul?”

“He asked me.”

“You don’t think it could have been because he would have made you feel closer to Gina?”

“Hell no. I’ve told you before, I knew Paul long before I fucked his wife.”

Judy rubbed her temples and let out a sigh, “I think we’ve talked enough today, Greg.”

“Oh but we’ve only just gotten started,” Greg huffed.

“What are you doing, kiddo?” Brad chirped as he waltzed into the apartment and crouched down to talk to Lilly.

“Art, just like Fenny,” Lilly replied, motioning to the half the coffee table that was covered in coloured scrawls.

Brad screwed up his face. “I don’t think Fen’s gonna be too happy with that.”

Lilly shrugged and picked up an orange crayon as Brad grabbed her. “I think, young lady, it’s about time you went and had a lie down.”

Lilly’s bottom lip began to quiver but Brad ignored her, knowing full well her range of acting skills. Thirty seconds later she was snuggled into a teddy bear and breathing softly. Brad tiptoed from her room and poked his head into the study. He noticed the computer was on, but Fenny wasn’t about.

“Hmm. Ah, bedroom,” he said quietly and padded to the bedroom door which was ajar. He pushed it open to reveal Fenny curled on her side, asleep. Jaguar was nuzzled behind her knees and Mochrie sprawled on the rug, one of his sneakers in her mouth.

“Stupid mutt,” Brad mused, grabbing his sneaker which Mochrie was too lazy to grab onto. Fenny let out a groan and blearily opened her eyes.

“Oh, you’re home.”

“Yeah, sorry lunch went so long. Proops and I were telling the guys about what happened,” Brad apologised as he sunk onto the bed. “They are the only people in the world who believe us.”

“Did Proops tell them about him and Ritza?”

“No, funnily enough he bypassed that bit,” Brad mused. “Oh, and guess what?”

“You’ve got another illegitimate child that’s moving in with us to ruin my life?”

“No, we’re going to Vegas to do a couple more Allstar shows.”

“That’s fantastic, really. When?”

“Friday.”

“FRIDAY!” Fenny sat bolt upright. “And what about Lil?”

“Well I was hoping…”

“NO! That, that thing is your child, not mine. You wanted her here, you can damn well look after her. I’ve had a headache for the past three days because of her and she’s defaced my coffee table.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“Oh, and you’d know, huh? How many days have you been home looking after her, Bradley?”

Brad went quiet, “Fen, I can’t take a kid to Vegas.”

“Sure you can, it’s not like you’re going to hang out with half-naked women and gamble.”

“Say I did, who’s going to watch her when I’m on stage, huh?”

“Chain her up outside.”

“FEN!”

“I’ll be glad to have a weekend without the little brat.”

“She’s not a brat.”

“She’s your kid, of course she’s a brat,” Fenny huffed. “And need I reiterate about the coffee table.”

“I’ll buy you a new coffee table,” Brad declared as Fenny slid off the bed. “Besides, I thought you liked having Lilly here?”

Fenny looked at him aghast. “No Brad, I HATE having Lilly here. In fact, if I didn’t love you and we weren’t married, I’d leave, but since that’s not going to happen, you’re never, ever getting sex from me again.” She stormed out of the bedroom and Brad looked pathetically at Jaguar and Mochrie.

“What did I do, huh?”

Paul stepped out of the bathroom with a pink towel wrapped around his waist and padded into the kitchen. “What on earth are you doing?” he gasped, noticing Gina hunched over the sink.

“The dishes, since you seem to have forgotten how,” Gina chided. “Besides, I already made a shopping list, vacuumed the living room and cleaned the bathroom.”

“You only stepped off a plane a few hours ago,” he gasped and snatched the wash cloth from her. “You don’t have to clean.”

“I like cleaning,” she shrugged. “It’s therapeutic.”

“Not for me it’s not, I get stressed just watching you.”

“I thought you liked to watch?”

“I do,” he grinned and caught her in a kiss. After a few moments she pulled away.

“No, you’re not going to distract me,” she laughed. “I’m going to clean the bedroom because believe me when I say Troy is not staying in there.”

“You’re mean,” Paul pouted. “And to think you could have done whatever you wanted to me since I’m naked and vulnerable,” he added, calling after her as she descended into the bedroom.

Gina giggled as she set about making the bed and picking up various things off the floor. She plugged in the vacuum cleaner and started giving it the once over, feeling very much like her mother and being undecided if that was a good thing. She stuck the nozzle under the bed and was greeted by a muffled ‘clunk’. Gina pulled the vacuum nozzle back and found something stuffed in the end.

“What the…” she paused and pulled out a now dusty black g-string. Gina couldn’t decide if she was surprised, upset or murderous. She marched out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen where Paul was devouring a bowl of cornflakes.

“Oh-oh, the cleaning fairy looks pissed,” he mused.

“Whose is this?” Gina asked holding up the g-string. Paul choked on his cornflakes.

Greg skipped out of the building and toward his car. He’d never had a therapy session lasting longer than about 15 minutes. While he held nothing against Dr. Nicholson and her methods, he could think of better things to do than pour out his troubles to her. From the very beginning he’d vowed to fuck with her, and in time he’d mastered it well, although sometimes when he had been drinking considerably, Greg would question if it was a good thing to give the therapist a breakdown. He reached his car as his cell phone rang. The device blinked the name of his wife as he pulled it from his pocket.

“Oh great,” he muttered. “Hi Pumpkin. No, therapy was great, made a breakthrough. What breakthrough? We discovered as a child I was groped by an uncle. I know that’s not funny. My next appointment is Thursday. Oh, speaking of Friday’s together session, I can’t make it, I’m going to Vegas, work stuff. I know the counselling is important. I know it’s saving our marriage. Look, I’ll fly to Vegas later in the day, okay, so we can still do the session together. Yes, I know I’m an asshole.” He paused the same time as his wife. “Jen, I love you.” The three words seemed to calm his wife, and by the end of the conversation they had decided a night out was in order. Greg was determined to find some normalcy in his life; maybe he’d take her to Vegas with him. A smile spread across his face. Maybe he could convince her to dress like a casino girl. “But sweetheart, my therapist says I should indulge my fantasies…”

“Fen can we…”

“No,” Fenny spat as Brad entered the study. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work?”

“You haven’t done anything since we got back.”

“That’s because I can’t concentrate to do anything.”

“Just because you’re hormonal doesn’t mean you can take all your frustrations out on Lilly.”

“I’m not hormonal, I’m LIVID,” she snapped. “And you’re only sniffing around because I’m refusing to put out.”

“Actually, I found a solution to the Vegas problem.”

“Boarding kennels?”

Brad gave Fenny daggers. “I was thinking you could come too. Just to watch her while I’m on stage.”

“Oh boy,” Fenny said sarcastically.

“Fen, I want us to be a family” he begged.

“And I want my life back.”

“Lilly’s probably just playing up because she’s somewhere new.”

“And that makes it alright, huh?”

“This is where plan number two comes in.”

“Oh god.” she sighed and turned her chair to face him.

“I think we — well you, being the artistic one — should decorate Lilly’s room. Make it more homely for her.”

“Great, I’ll start straight away, shall I?”

“Please Fen, for me?” Brad asked, dropping to his knees in front of her, his eyes big and pleading. “She said she was only colouring the coffee table to be arty like you.” His hands moved to her knees.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Brad…” she let out a sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll decorate the little scamp’s room.”

“Thank you, oh love of my life,” he grinned and pulled her from the chair onto the floor. She squealed as they both tumbled onto the carpet.

“I’m so angry at you,” she said unconvincingly.

“Furious I’ll bet,” he breathed, pinning her to the floor as they shared a kiss.

“Did Fenny fall?” gasped a tiny voice from the doorway.

Brad and Fenny looked up at Lilly totally embarrassed. Fenny pulled herself out from under Brad. “I’m leaving this one to you,” she chided.

“They’re not yours?” Paul asked, eating another mouthful of cornflakes.

“How long have you known me?” Gina countered.

“They could be mine,” he suggested.

She raised an eyebrow. “If that was true I’d be quite scared.”

He placed his bowl on the counter. “In that case they’re mine.”

She stepped closer to him and thrust the underwear into his hands, “Whose are they?” she asked sternly.

Paul looked at her weakly for a moment. “Freya’s,” he winced.

“FREYA’S!” Gina screamed. “Why the fuck was her underwear under your bed?”

“It’s not what you think,” Paul added quickly.

“It sure as hell better not be.”

“She sat next to me on the plane. I eventually had to talk to her, 24 hours is a long time, you know that, you’d go mad if you didn’t talk, I know I…”

“Does this story have a point or am I going to be forced to do something real nasty with the spatula?”

“She didn’t have anywhere to go, so I let her stay here,” Paul sighed. “It was three days.”

“She slept in that bed?”

“I slept in the spare room.”

“Paul, you’re an idiot,” Gina declared and stormed off into the lounge.

“Hey, you should be happy. I turned her down when she climbed into bed butt naked with me…” Paul yelled. “Oops.”

Gina shot Paul daggers from the couch. “Well it’s just fucking great to be home.”