“This way,” Jenna enthused as she led Fenny toward the luminous bar in a small, stuffy club somewhere in the heart of Sydney.

“What?” Fenny yelled as she was thrust into a bar stool by one of the dancing patrons.

“The bar,” Jenna laughed, grabbing Fenny’s wrist. “Let’s drink.” She propped herself up at the bar while Fenny slid onto a bar stool. The bartender quickly noticed Jenna’s assets that were barely being restrained by the flimsy material of her top, and leaned across the bar to get her order. “I’ll have whatever that purple drink is over there and my friend will have…”

“WATER!” Fenny said as loudly as possible. The barman looked at her as though she was crazy before handing over a bottle of water. Jenna was quickly presented with her choice of purple drink and happily sipped as she toyed with the little decorative umbrella.

“This is fantastic,” Jenna grinned. “But why’d you not go see Mr Australia?”

Fenny looked around guiltily a moment and sipped her water. It might have been ice cold, but it burned its way down her oesophagus. “I don’t really know?”

“I would never have taken you as the type to cheat on her husband.”

“Yeah, thanks for announcing that to half of Australia,” Fenny muttered as the barman shook his head at her.

Jenna laughed. “Oh Fen, don’t be so paranoid. If I had Brad and Danny hanging off my arms I’d be a happy woman.”

“Trust me Jenna, I’m thrilled,” Fenny mused, allowing herself a smile.

“You’re a dark horse,” Jenna cackled. Fenny felt herself relax a little, even though the music was threatening to tear her brain in two.

“Hi,” a voice piped up as a man strode up to the bar between them. He was tall, with blonde untamed hair and a was sporting a god-awful shirt like most of the males in the room.

“Well hello there,” Jenna perked, thrusting her boobs out (not that they needed it).

“Is that an American accent?” the man asked, placing an empty bottle back on the bar.

“100% Californian, honey,” Jenna smiled.

“Well Californian honey, would you like to join this Aussie bloke for a dance?” the man asked, holding out his hand.

“I would love to,” Jenna grinned, downed the rest of her drink and took off with the stranger into the crowd.

“Yes, do have fun,” Fenny groused, taking another mouthful of water. Whatever had stopped her going to Danny’s was now thoroughly annoying her. She’d rather have been talking about photography or having wild animal sex on Paul’s Indian rug instead of being there.

“Cheer up,” perked the barman. “At least your daughter is happy.”

Fenny looked at him stunned for a moment until it actually dawned on her what he’d said. She felt indignant and wanted to insert Jenna’s decorative umbrella into his eye.

“Genie, your phone is ringing,” Paul muttered somewhere from within Gina’s hair as they lay snuggled together and sleeping in her apartment.

“That’s nice,” Gina mumbled without moving a single muscle.

“It might be important,” Paul continued.

“It’s 3am, nothing is important,” Gina breathed as the ringing stopped and they both relaxed. Half a second later the ringing broke out again and both tensed.

“They’re persistent,” he sighed.

“They’ll give up soon.”

“Either that or I’m lobbing your phone out the window.”

“And what happened last time you did that?”

“It broke.”

“And?”

“I struck a homeless person,” he sniggered and they both opened their eyes. Through the dark it was obvious they were both smiling. “Just answer your fucking phone, woman.”

“You answer it, you care so much.”

“Fine, I will,” he groused and pulled himself from beneath the covers. “Christ it’s cold,” he muttered and snatched up the quilt as he headed out of the room.

“HEY!” Gina squealed as the cold air hit her skin, making the hairs on her arms prick up.

Paul staggered, wrapped roughly in the quilt, into the living room where the phone was still breaking the silence with its continuous bars of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.” He quickly located the phone from beneath the cushion they’d been using earlier and held it up to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Oh Paul, thank god,” came Fenny’s exasperated reply.

“Actually, you should thank god, if it wasn’t for my parents’ religious beliefs they might have used contraception and I mightn’t be here to answer you call.”

“I haven’t got time to joke.”

“Fen? Are you having a crisis?”

“Funnily enough, I am.”

“Oh, just hold on a sec then,” he replied and scurried back to the bedroom. He fell onto the bed and handed the phone to Gina. “Fen’s having a crisis.”

“At 3am?” Gina pouted, taking the phone as Paul spread out the quilt again. “Fen.”

“Gina, I need your help.”

“It’s the floppy thing between his legs,” Gina teased.

“I’m serious. Jenna and I are at the police station,” Fenny said quickly.

“You what?” Gina gasped, sitting bolt upright, mouth agape.

“We went to a club, it’s a very long story. Can you just get down here and get us?”

“I suppose. What station are you at?” Gina asked as Fenny relayed the details and then hung up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Paul asked, looking more than a little annoyed.

“Fen and Jenna have seemingly got themselves arrested,” Gina replied bluntly as she got out of bed and started hunting out her clothes in the dark. She stumbled over a boot and into the light switch which she switched on and illuminated the room.

“Arrested? How the hell did she manage that?” Paul gasped, rubbing his eyes.

“No idea,” she shrugged. “Come on, get up, you have to come too.”

“Why?” he groused.

“Because you’re a wonderful human being and you know where the police station is,” she smiled.

He rolled his eyes and threw back the covers. “See, I told you we should have just sent them all bloody home.”

Fenny sat jiggling nervously in the waiting room of the police station. The police had actually been lovely — a young constable had even brought her a cup of tea. It was the company she was being forced to keep that was worrying: a rather smelly old man hacking phlegm loudly down the opposite end while he clutched a brown paper bag close to his chest, two women in spandex skirts and stilettos who were obviously prostitutes, and a man who was staring blankly at the wall who was most likely off his face. The blank man gave a small giggle as Fenny noticed he had become prone to do. Her attention was averted when the door opened and in came a tired and grumpy looking Paul and Gina.

“Young lady, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Gina declared as they strode over.

“Sorry, I would have called Brad or Greg but they were already out of it when I left,” Fenny apologised.

“So are you going to tell us why you’re here?” Gina asked, noticing Paul was looking at the hacking old man strangely and elbowed him.

“Yeah, what she said,” he announced uncertainly.

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Fenny breathed. “I think someone spiked Jenna’s drink and she ended stripping on the bar to a crowd of jeering men.”

“Then what happened?” Paul asked, suddenly more interested.

“The police turned up to arrest her for indecent exposure, she fell off the bar and puked on one of the cops.”

“A quiet night then?” Gina huffed and turned to consult the policewoman at the desk.

“Well? Want to lecture me as well?” Fenny asked grumpily as she looked at Paul.

“Nah, I’m just pissed I wasn’t there,” Paul grinned. “Not that spending time with Gina was a bad thing,” he added as Fenny could have sworn a dirty thought flickered through his mind.

“I take it Brad and Greg are in bed.”

“No idea, we haven’t been home,” he shrugged. “Went to Gina’s to escape you lot.”

“Oh thanks, I feel so loved,” she groused.

“My pleasure,” Paul chided as Gina turned back to them.

“They never charged her, just put her in a cell to sober up,” she declared. “Apparently there’s been a spate of drink spiking going on in the clubs recently.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and you read the news now, not write it,” Paul mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as Jenna was brought out. She looked pale and half asleep.

“It hurts,” she groaned.

“Just so you know, if she does any bodily functions in my car, you’re cleaning it up,” Gina groused as Fenny took Jenna’s arm and the four of them made their way out of the station.

It was close to 5:30am when Gina unlocked the front door to the suburban house. It would have been dark and quiet had the television not been left on a music channel and a boy band not been singing some nauseating song.

“Don’t tell me they’re still…” Fenny’s words trailed off as both she and Gina reached the living room door and found that Brad and Greg had passed out on the couch. On the floor were the crushed remnants of corn chips along with more than a dozen scattered stubbies. Fenny caught the mortified look on Gina’s face and quickly averted her attention to Jenna.

“I’ll take Jenna to bed,” she piped up before hurriedly escorting Jenna down the dark hallway. Gina let out a frustrated huff and marched to her bedroom with Paul behind her.

“I’m sure they’ll clean it in the morning,” Paul said in a whisper.

“I hate them all, you know?” Gina spat as she roughly started to remove her clothes. “No respect, any of them.” Paul decided to stay quiet and instead gently pulled him toward her and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I love you Justin…” Brad woke with a start, slightly perturbed by the NSYNC dream he’d just had, and looked blearily at the television. “I should go to bed,” he said to Greg’s comatose body as he unsteadily got to his feet, crushing a few more corn chips into the floor as he staggered through the room.

Fenny was first up, mostly because Brad was snoring like a freight train and she couldn’t have slept anymore if she’d tried. Although it was only 10am and she was deathly tired, Fenny cheered up when she saw what a gorgeous day it was. She retrieved the newspaper from the front garden, ignored the mess in the living room, and made herself a cup of tea. Fenny sat in her pyjamas on the back step, sipped her tea and started flicking through the paper. She’d passed all the political stories, the headline stuff and the letters to the editor when she noticed something that made her swear loudly. She jumped to her feet and raced into the house and up the hallway. Fenny threw open Gina and Paul’s bedroom door so fast she couldn’t stop and landed on the end of their bed.

“Fucking hell!” Paul gasped, jumping a mile.

“Fen, what the fuck are you doing?” Gina groaned, rolling onto her back and rubbing her eyes.

“Um, well, I think you guys should see this,” she winced and thrust the newspaper under Gina’s nose. Gina lifted the paper and took several seconds to focus before she started reading aloud.

“Channel Ten newsreader Gina McDermott might be reading about herself next time she reads the news. Gina, wife of comedian and former Good News Week host Paul McDermott, was called to the police station early this morning to bail out two American friends. It’s believed both of McDermott’s friends had been drinking heavily and police say they were caught stripping on the bar. The newsreader arrived at the station with her husband and paid the hefty fine. Channel Ten news director Stan Rogers has been unavailable for comment.”

“They could’ve mentioned GUD!” Paul groused.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Gina cussed and pulled the covers over her head.

“I’d leave kinda fast if I were you,” Paul declared, motioning toward the door. Fenny took the hint and left the paper as she hurried back out of the room.

Brad felt a sudden weight on his chest and woke to find Fenny sprawled across him. She’d tripped over a discarded shoe and toppled over on her way to wake him.

“Sorry, I wanted to be more subtle,” she whispered.

“No offence sweetie, but it’s not your forte,” Brad mused sleepily. “Why were you waking me anyway?”

“I was thinking we should go out,” Fenny declared. “Get breakfast somewhere.”

“Oh yeah, that’s just what I feel like doing,” he sarced.

“But we’ve barely spent any time together and that’s why we came,” she pleaded.

“Fen, I’m hungover. I don’t particularly feel like doing anything,” he scorned as a door slammed somewhere.

“You don’t understand. Gina is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Jenna and I, well Jenna, got arrested last night…”

“She did what? How?” he gasped, finally taking notice and propping himself up on his elbows.

“Someone spiked her drink and she started to strip,” Fenny sighed as she was starting to get tired of telling the story.

“So why is Gina going to kill you?”

“Because it got into the paper and humiliated her and Paul.”

Brad let out a heavy sigh. “Then I think you should stay here and face the music,” he declared, then lay back down and turned over. Fenny sat there, open-mouthed, and shot to her feet. She dressed quickly and left the room, slamming the door as hard as she could on the way out. She marched into the kitchen and grabbed Gina’s keys from the breakfast bar and then stormed out the front door.

Gina finally emerged lifelessly from her room an hour later and walked idly down the hall. She stopped at the living room door and glared at the mess of broken chips, scattered bottles and Greg sprawled in his underpants and felt tears pricking her eyes. Soon she was in floods and sunk miserably to the floor. Greg woke blearily and grabbed the remote.

“Thought I’d turned you off,” he groused but only succeeded in turning the television on. He switched it off again and realised the sobbing he could hear was real and quickly found his glasses beneath an empty corn chip packet. He slid them on and sat up, surprised to see Gina sitting in the doorway with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Gina? What’s wrong?” he heard himself croak as he somehow found the strength to get to his feet. He wrapped a blanket around his waist as he shuffled over to her. “Gina?”

“It’s your fault, all of you!” Gina wailed.

“What is?” he asked, hungover, sleepy, and bewildered.

“I lost my fucking job!”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’t you ask Fenny and that blonde skank you brought with you,” she spat, finally managing to regain some composure and got to her feet.

“Fine I will,” he nodded.

“Good luck. Fen’s fucked off and Jenna is rightfully comatose,” she said bitterly.

“Does Paul know?” he asked, trying to sound soothing through his dry throat.

Gina shook her head. “He’s gone out and he forgot his phone,” she sniffed before shooting him fierce daggers and marching off back to her room.

Danny was busy dropping his week’s worth of dirty clothes into the washing machine when there was a knock at the door. He hurried out of the small laundry and over to the front door.

“Do you ever spend time with your friends and family?” he asked, amused as Fenny stood there.

“I hate my family and I think my friends want to kill me,” Fenny replied and stepped into the room.

“Oh, oh no…it wasn’t you that was at the bar?” he gasped.

She nodded slowly. “Me and Jenna, and it was only Jenna that stripped. God, you read the paper too?”

“Yeah, I always keep up to date with what my friends do,” her perked as he headed back into the laundry. Fenny followed, glad of the distraction.

“Gina is pissed about it.”

“I’m not surprised, that’s not going to be looked on favourably by the public, you know.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“I’ll think you’ll find it is…”

“Oh thanks, thanks a fucking bunch,” she snapped and turned to walk away.

“Wait!” he mused, lassoing her with a pale blue shirt and pulling her back toward him. “I’m sure it’ll blow over, as will Gina’s mood.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then buy a bullet proof vest and get yourself some decent bodyguards.”

“That’s so not funny,” Fenny breathed, tilting her head back to look up at Danny who had wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped the shirt back to the floor.

“Don’t worry, if she comes at you, I’ll put my body on the line,” he smiled and kissed the top of her head. She felt a smile pricking at the corners of her mouth, she couldn’t help it. Somehow Danny made such an awful, guilt-ridden moment seem so insignificant, and was in two minds whether to tell him that she loved him.

“Sherwood, wake up dude,” Greg declared as he raced into Brad’s room pulling on his shirt.

“No,” Brad replied, pulling the covers over his head.

“Yes,” Greg spat and pulled the covers right off the bed.

“Hey…” Brad whined before catching a glimpse of the look on Greg’s face. “What?”

“Your wife has just cost Gina her job.”

“That bar thing?”

“Yeah and now Gina is currently in floods of tears in the bedroom and I don’t know where Paul is to stop her attacking us with the heaviest thing she can find.”

“What? You didn’t rush to her side?” Brad sneered.

“No, that just made her angrier,” Greg huffed and Brad’s face showed he took great delight in this. “I don’t know what you’re smirking at. Your wife had gone off and left you yet again.”

“She went out for breakfast,” Brad yawned. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Try and talk to her while I go look for Paul.”

“Sure, buddy,” Brad nodded and sat up enthusiastically.

“Thanks, I might go check his apartment first,” Greg called over his shoulder as he left the room. The enthusiasm quickly left Brad’s body and he grabbed the covers and curled back up on the bed.

“There better be a good reason for this,” Paul groused as he stood in the centre of Freya’s living room.

“Are you saying I’m not important?” Freya mused.

“I think so,” Paul shrugged as Freya adjusted the tie on her satin robe.

“How are you with plumbing?” she piped up.

“Plumbing? Do I look like I’ve ever done anything with a plunger other than get drunk and stick it to my face?”

“Oh, nothing like that, I’ll show you,” she perked and grabbed his hand. He would have resisted but she was too quick. They walked in silence into the bathroom. “Over there,” she announced, pointing to the shower.

“There what? What am I looking…” Paul’s voice trailed off as he felt the distinct impression of Freya’s naked breasts pressed into his back. “Nipples.”

“Sorry I had to lie to get you here,” she purred her hands searching out the front of his jeans. “But I know you’ve missed me, Paul. I can tell.”

He had to stop himself from laughing. “What? You can tell by me being with my wife?”

“Do we have to talk about her?” Freya sighed, pressing herself further into his back.

“This is getting lame and tiring, Freya,” he breathed, pulling away and walking out of the bathroom without looking back.

“Then why’d you come?” she called after him as she pulled her robe closed again.

“Because you caught me in the corridor and dragged me in here,” he replied. “I don’t love you, Freya, I’m not attracted to you and…”

Freya broke out into sobs and Paul rolled his eyes and stalked across the room to let himself out. Out in the corridor and glad to have escaped her apartment, he let out a deep breath.

“Paul!”

“Greg?” Paul gasped, surprised to see Greg moving quickly toward him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, I know where you just came out of,” Greg countered.

“Think what you like,” Paul shrugged. “I take it you haven’t come to join Dan and Fen’s orgy or Freya’s latest attempt to seduce me?”

“It’s Gina,” Greg said breathlessly.

“What about Gina?” Paul asked, concern suddenly rising in his chest.

“She lost her job, man, she’s really upset and you didn’t have your pho…” before Greg had even finished his sentence Paul was halfway back down the hall.

“Come on!” he yelled, pressing the button for the elevator.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll come in there and sing advertisement jingles at you!” Brad yelled, thumping on Gina’s bedroom door. When she didn’t respond he opened the door and then quickly closed it again as a book came hurtling toward him. “Or maybe not,” he sighed, slumping to the ground, his back against the door with the muffled sound of Gina’s crying ringing in his ears. While he wasn’t totally aware of all the facts, Brad couldn’t help but feel a little guilty himself. If he hadn’t been too stubborn to actually do anything with Fenny, she might not have gone out with Jenna and none of this would have happened. He was about to offer her tea when the front door flew open and two lots of footsteps charged through.

“Out of the way, Sherwood,” Paul groused and opened the door.

“He’s lucky, she threw a book at me when I tried that,” Brad huffed.

“Come on, let’s get coffee and keep outta their way,” Greg sighed and they both headed back down the hall.

Paul entered the room to see Gina sitting curled on the bed, her eyes red and puffy and a stack of used tissues around her.

“Genie, Genie, Genie,” he soothed, crawling onto the bed and pulling her into his arms.

“They sacked me, said that I’m not a good public figure,” she blubbed.

“Bastards,” he groused. “You’re the best public figure I know. Especially in leather pants.”

Gina gave a watery laugh and held him tightly. “It’s so humiliating for me, you and my family.”

“I know,” Paul said softly. “And I blame myself.”

“Why?” she sniffed.

“Because I should have known, well I did know, the consequences of us being at a police station, but it honestly didn’t occur to me until we got home. I should have stopped you.”

“You’d think journalists never did anything wrong the way Stan yelled. We’re all so fucking saintly.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he smiled. “I’ll get Amanda to interview me about something, don’t need a reason really, and I’ll get what really happened out. I mean people always believe me, right? No matter what shit I’m spinning.”

“Then what?”

“For the first time ever, I’ll get to spend some time with you. No work to interfere, no arguments, no bloody kidnapping.”

“How’d you just do that?”

“Do what?” Paul asked.

“Make everything better?” Gina replied.

“I had to. Seeing you so upset is killing me,” Paul said warmly and wiped a tear from her cheek. Gina brushed her damp lips against his and then whispered into his ear.

“There’s just one more thing…”

“Oh man, and then we starting eating like all this pumpkin…” Brad’s voice trailed off as Paul marched into the room.

“Hey dude, is she alright?” Greg asked, genuinely concerned.

“She will be,” Paul said without a hint of humour. “We think it’s best if you all left. Including Jenna.”

“W…when?” Greg asked, slightly shocked.

“As soon as possible.”

“Um, do you mind if I wait until Fen comes back?” Brad asked.

“Fucking hell, mate, are you that stupid?” Paul groused.

“What?” Brad said bewildered.

“Pack your stuff, leave, and pick you wife up from my apartment as you go,” Paul spat as he left the room.

“But Danny is at…” Brad stopped voicing his thoughts and looked at Greg. Greg looked away, not willing to acknowledge the sudden look of sadness that had just entered his friend’s eyes.