“We’re doing some vox pops, should be fun, asking strangers about—” Paul paused mid sentence as Gina’s leg brushed against his for probably the five hundredth time since she’d appeared in the restaurant, but still managing to send a thrill up his spine. “—sex,” he finished with a gulp of his wine. It had been hard enough keeping track of the conversation about renovations, the décor of the restaurant, and Mikey and Laura’s latest projects with Gina looking so ravishing without the discussion moving to his sex survey show. Hell, it was hard keeping track of the news when she delivered it dressed up in the worst mid-80s surplus power suits because he imagined her naked, now he was just envisioning much racier things involving the desserts trolley and what remained of the chocolate cheesecake Gina had been working on.

“Paul?”

He snapped his attention away from the desserts and turned a slightly glossy glance back at Mikey. “Yeah?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever done any vox popping before?”

“Oh, no I haven’t actually. But my wife is one of the premier journalists in the country, if you’ll remember, so I’m sure I could drag a few hints out of her,” he smiled as he squeezed her knee under the table. She smiled in response and rested a hand on his thigh, her fingers gently tracing up and down the pinstripe pattern. His hands jumped for the bottle of wine to pour himself another glass as Gina and Laura shared a knowing look.

“You should get me on the show, mate,” Mikey chirped between bites of his own dessert. “I’ve got some stories you wouldn’t believe.”

Paul cringed dramatically. “I can see the headlines now, ‘Entire nation of Australia goes celibate’,” he mused with a cheeky grin.

“You never know, you could probably learn some things from him,” Laura smiled, rubbing Mikey’s arm.

“Like what? Oh, I know, Kama Sutra positions like ‘I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up’? Maybe ‘Supine Sloth’?” Paul giggled.

“Then there’s Paul’s favorite,” Mikey countered with a grin, “‘Inebriated Monkey.’”

“I like that one too,” Gina perked as the table fell into a case of wine- and chocolate-fueled giggles.

---

Fenny stopped typing at the sound of the front door opening. She scowled at the computer and waited. As expected, the door to the study opened and Brad poked his head into the room. “I told you to leave,” Fenny grumbled at the computer screen.

“Fen, please,” he said softly.

She turned to face him reluctantly. “What?”

“I’m sorry about what I said—”

“I’ve heard this before,” she sighed.

“Well what do you want me to do?”

“Leave.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t care.”

“Greg’s wife kicked us out.”

“Greg?”

“Hey Fen,” his voice peeped from down the hall.

Fenny rolled her eyes. “Well Greg can stay but you get out.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Brad huffed.

“Ask your daughter if you can sleep with her.” He scowled at her. “Go on, before I throw something blunt at you.” Fenny watched as Brad paused a moment, debating the wisdom of continuing the argument. She picked up the small battery-operated fan from the desk and held it up, ready to lob it at him, and he sulked out of the room and down the hall. Greg appeared in the doorway smiling inanely as she put the fan back. “And what did you do to get yourself kicked out by your wife?” she asked.

“I happened to mentioned I wished her beloved aunt would die, but I think it might have been interpreted wrong,” he shrugged as he leaned against her desk.

Fenny shrugged back. “I could cope with that, I wish most of my family would die too.”

“So you and Sherwood having problems again? That why you’re up on the computer at such an hour?”

“Oh Brad’s just being an idiot, and you have to take extreme measures like this to get him to realize it, the equivalent of sending Lil to her room. Since, y’know, corporal punishment is sort of frowned upon, and I think he’d enjoy a spanking too much.”

“Please Fen, not an image I need right now,” Greg shuddered dramatically. He watched as Fenny’s frown deepened. “What’s wrong then if Brad’s cultural apathy hasn’t broken your fragile little heart?”

She rubbed her forehead and regarded him carefully, debating whether or not to tell him. Her need to vent won out and she sighed. “Jenna, our neighbor, she’s the model for the life drawing class I’m teaching. I think my she’s having some, uh, problems, with her boyfriend.”

“Problems?”

“Well, he was screaming, she was crying, he stormed out looking like he’d punched someone. I feel like I should go and talk to her or something, but I wouldn’t know what to say or what to do.”

Greg raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you sure you’re not over reacting here Fen? What if you—god I’ve been to too many therapy sessions—you’re sure you’re not just creating problems to compensate for your and Brad’s fight?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Now you see why I hate my counseling sessions.”

“But I’m worried about her.”

“Well you saw her in the buff, did she look okay to you?”

“Apart from flashes of her looking like pieces of poultry, yeah.”

“What – no, I’m not gonna ask, it’s too late for your obscurities. I know you too well, Fen, just leave it alone. What do you suppose the neighbors think’s going on in here with you and Brad go at it. Fighting I mean,” he smirked. “Don’t worry yourself about it, I’m sure it’s nothing.” He squeezed her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Even if there was a problem you’d repress it.”

Fenny nodded reluctantly. Everyone knew Jett was a creep, and Jenna seemed pleased enough with that. It was probably just a standard argument, and if it wasn’t, well, she wouldn’t know what to do about it anyway. “Right. Guess it’s time we arrange a bed for you, huh? All we’ve got’s the couch since Lil’s got the spare room.”

“I could always share your—” Fenny glared at him over the tops of her glasses. “Right, couch,” he smiled as he followed Fenny into the hallway. She took a couple blankets and a pillow from the linen cupboard and thrust them at him, pushing him in the direction of the living room.

“I apologize early if Lil gets up and jumps on you in the morning, but it’s not like you wouldn’t deserve it anyway. Night.”

“Yeah, night,” he chimed back, grumbling to himself as he made up his bed while Fenny went back to finish her email.

---

Gina had been surprised by Paul’s suggestion after they’d said goodnight to Mikey and Laura after dinner that they spend a bit of time together on the beach. She’d been nervous at first because the last time he’d suggested something like that it had been alien Paul trying to be a mature adult, and she already had enough problems with him, she didn’t need him trying to act like a normal human being again. But he’d promptly started teasing the last of the surfers for their technique and started inventing voodoo curses to try to make the local shark population hungry, which soothed her nerves significantly. After a bit of drawing in the sand and chanting in between giggles, they decided it wasn’t having the desired effect, so they moved on.

They didn’t have much to talk about after all the conversation over dinner, much of it slightly forced. They walked hand in hand down the beach a ways until they found a sufficiently deserted area, and Paul sat in the warm sand, pulling Gina down with him. He wrapped an arm around her as she leaned into his side, grateful for the close contact that had been lacking recently. He kissed the side of her head and went back to staring out into the night sky.

“Alright McDermott, spill it,” Gina ordered softly. He looked down at her questioningly. “You’ve gone all pensive on me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he breathed. “Everything’s perfect.”

“Don’t give me that, you’ve been acting strange for days.” He shrugged and she pulled away from him, situating herself so they could look at each other and taking his hands in an attempt to get him to look her in the eye. “I have ways of making you talk,” she smirked, “so you may as well just tell me.”

He shrugged again but looked up at her. “Would you be disappointed in me if I told you I was scared?”

“Scared of what, hon?” she prompted softly.

“Us. I mean I’ve never been this serious with anyone before. House in the suburbs with a garden and the possums. If you factor in Troy and Archie we’re almost like a real family.” Gina snickered at him but sobered as his own smile faded. “I mean what’s the next stage after happy families? There’s a natural progression to things, they fall apart, or at least they do when I’m around. So what’s next for us then? Things go wrong, right?”

“Things always go wrong, but we always find a way to make them right again,” Gina assured him. “Or at least less wrong.”

“But can you really say we always will?”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Paul. I can’t count the number of times we’ve not only nearly gotten divorced but nearly gotten killed as well. The only things we haven’t faced are a nuclear holocaust, unforeseen natural disasters, and alien invasion. And somehow, I don’t think any of those things could do anything to make us go wrong if being chased by a bunch of murderous psychotics and Freya at the same time can’t.”

“What if aliens launched a nuclear attack in the middle of a tidal wave?” Paul countered with a slight smile.

“If that’s the only situation we can come up with, I don’t think you have too much to worry about,” Gina cooed, leaning forward for a quick kiss. “I’d never let you go, not even if you wanted me to, you should know that by now.” She settled herself in his lap, their arms securely around each other.

“It would kill me if I lost you,” he said in a voice so soft she wasn’t entirely sure she was meant to hear it.

“And to think all this time I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” she mused.

“You what?” Paul gasped.

“Well, you know, you kept turning down my invitations to get naked with you. I thought you’d got tired of me.”

“I could never get tired of you, Genie,” he cooed, pulling her closer. “Of course I want you, and of course I want to get naked with you. I can’t think of anything better than getting naked with you right here, right now. But there’s the whole sand thing to think about.”

“Yeah, learned that the hard way, didn’t we?”

“It was worth it. There’s no sand at our place though,” he perked with a suggestive grin.

Gina raised an eyebrow at him. “Race you to the car?”

“Deal,” he agreed, grabbing her for an intense kiss. Once she was lost in the moment and considering risking the sand, Paul leapt up, sending Gina sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, and made a mad dash towards the car.

“No fair, that’s cheating, you bastard,” she screamed as she scrambled to her feet to catch up with him. He made it to the car first, slamming into the door and gasping for breath, Gina a few yards behind. She slammed into him panting and giggling. They tried to kiss but were too winded. “Not a good sign,” she pouted playfully, “we’re worn out before we even got to bed.”

“I’ll show you worn out,” he mused, taking the keys from her and unlocking the car door for her.

“Is that a promise?” she asked.

“You better believe it,” he growled as he slipped in next to her.

---

Lilly woke to the sound of Mochrie’s dog tags jangling as she shook herself awake at the foot of the bed. Lilly sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes before noticing Brad sprawled across the other side of her bed. He certainly didn’t fit in her little twin bed and was about ready to fall off. She frowned at him and shook his shoulder to wake him up. He jolted awake and promptly fell off the bed, startling Mochrie as he nearly fell on her. She bolted out of the room and Brad looked angrily up at the bed, expecting it to be Fenny playing some sort of game, but his face softened as he saw his daughter glaring down at him. “Why aren’t you in your bed?” she demanded.

“Because I’m an ass,” he groaned, leaning his head against the side of the bed.

“You made my Fenny-Mom sad again,” Lilly huffed, climbing out of bed.

“No, I made her angry.”

“You’re not nice to her.”

“I know. I don’t mean to.”

“Make her happy again,” Lilly commanded and marched out of the room. Brad sighed and after a moment realized that she was probably on her way to wake up Greg, and the last thing he needed was an irate, grumpy Greg Proops storming through the apartment.

Brad jumped up off the floor and found Lilly sitting on the couch watching cartoons with a box of cereal. “Where’s your uncle Greg?” Lilly shrugged and crammed another handful of Apple Jacks into her mouth. He glanced around and found a note scribbled on the coffee table:

“Yeah, well, I hope she uses your useless eyeballs as marbles,” Brad huffed, dropping the note back on the table. He wandered into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee, but paused and decided to make Fenny a pot of tea first. He got the kettle started and set up the coffee maker and noticed, for probably the first time in his life, that the kitchen could do with a bit of work. A few dishes needed washed, he’d spilled a bit of coffee grounds on the counter, and Lilly had emptied one of the cupboards onto the stove to climb on the counter to reach the cereal. With a reluctant sigh, he set to work tidying the kitchen and hoping it would soften Fenny up a bit.

Pleased with his handiwork when he’d gotten the kitchen as sparkling clean as he knew how without breaking out the mop, he poured himself a congratulatory cup of coffee, only to hear from the living room a terrible crashing sound followed by, “Oops, Daddy?”

He rushed into the room to see Lilly picking up a plush dog from the pile of his CDs she’d obviously managed to knock over from the shelf of the entertainment center. “I hope you didn’t wake Fenny,” he hissed, scrambling to pick them up. She giggled at him as she flopped back on the couch. “You’re doing this as revenge, aren’t you? You like watching me suffer?” Her giggle fit only got worse as she buried her face in her toy. “No man can be expected to live with two females, it’s not emotionally healthy,” he groaned to himself.

---

Greg was halfway home on the bus before he remembered he didn’t have his keys. His initial plan had been to stop off somewhere and buy a bunch of flowers then slip in his home to make his wife breakfast in bed and pray her mood had lightened and he’d get away with a bit of groveling and a humiliating, self-deprecating apology to Aunt Jean. But he didn’t have his wallet and had barely enough change for the bus, let alone the $50 it would take to buy a quality bouquet, and since he didn’t have his keys he couldn’t even hope for sneaking up on Jen with a subtle apology, he’d have to actually knock on his own door and beg for forgiveness.

He was surprised when the front door was unlocked. He paused, knowing it had to be a trap, but sauntered inside anyway, trying to look a bit more rumpled and pathetic as he did.

“It’s about time you got home,” a voice called from the kitchen.

“Jen, sweetheart, baby, darling, pookie, honey muffin?” Greg cooed, making his way towards her.

“And where did you stay last night?”

“Brad’s,” Greg said before he could stop himself.

“I thought he was kicked out, too?”

“Well Fen let us back in,” he cringed, knowing the conversation was taking a turn for the worse but not able to think of an appropriate lie that wouldn’t backfire.

“She’s a better woman than I am I guess,” Jen grumbled.

“No, of course not, she’s just more spineless.” He watched as she straightened herself and scowled at him. “Look, can I just please apologi—”

“Not now. Go take a shower and get changed, I’ve got us an appointment with Stuart, he managed to fit us into his schedule, and I think he’ll be a big help in getting us to work these things out.” She didn’t fail to notice the way his face fell almost imperceptibly for half a second. “Or would you rather solve things Fenny’s way?”

“No, no, Stuart, yeah, can’t wait, I’ll go see if I can find my love beads and get my chakras in line and my bodily humors in proportion, it’ll be good, purging of the soul and all that,” he babbled on his way to the bathroom. “Fucking tree hugging psychobabble,” he added under his breath.

“What was that?” she snapped from the hallway.

“Nothing sweetie, love you!”