“Do you think we should have dried off before we jumped into bed?” Gina mused as she lay contentedly in Paul’s arms, their legs impossibly tangled with the sheets, hands and lips not far apart.

“Come to mention it, it is kinda like lying in the world’s largest wet spot,” Paul smirked.

“Maybe we should call room service, get some fresh sheets,” Gina suggested, twisting a section of Paul’s hair into a spike.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Paul mused, one hand gently stroking Gina’s back.

“We’ve never had a sheet change in a hotel room before.”

“Yeah we did, that time in Perth,” he smiled. “Made such a mess.”

“I’ve never been with you to Perth,” she frowned.

“Oh,” he said, biting his lip. “Oops. Can you forget I just said that?”

“I’ll add it to my list of things you’ve done that I don’t want to know,” she chided as she kissed him softly on the lips.

“And this is why I love you,” he breathed. “You don’t try and change me, you just turn a blind eye to my stupidity.”

“Ah, so I am more than just a cheap alternative to a hooker,” she teased.

“Oh babe, you’re not cheap,” he chided. “No, a hooker would be the easy alternative.”

Gina’s mouth fell open. “Just for that, you can call room service,” she gasped and slid out of the bed. She padded into the bathroom and hunted out the complementary robes, while Paul grabbed the phone and kindly asked a maid to change the bed. Gina returned tying up the belt on her robe, Paul’s draped over her arm.

“Should be up here in a minute,” Paul announced as he peeled the satin sheets off his wet skin and headed over to Gina with an outstretched hand to grab his robe.

“Nah uh,” she smiled, holding the robe behind her back.

“Genie, I don’t want the maid walking in and finding me butt naked,” he cussed.

“Give her something to look at,” she smirked, looking over Paul’s naked body.

“Just give me the robe,” he demanded and lunged for it.

“No,” she squealed and took off into the bathroom. He followed in hot pursuit. She did a lap of the bath and bolted into the sitting area. Paul was hot on her heels, and eventually they both jumped on the bed. They attempted to stand as they wrestled and giggled. They tottered about the mattress until Paul managed to wrestle the robe out of Gina’s arms.

“I wish the maid could have seen you running naked,” she sniggered as he pulled on the robe and tied the belt.

“Maybe she’d rather you,” he grinned and pulled the belt on Gina’s robe open.

“No I think that’s just you,” she giggled as they both moved forward to lock lips. As they did they heard the lock on the door. Gina quickly did up her robe and they leapt off the bed in an attempt to look innocent.

“What are you doing?” Brad asked, as he lay sprawled on the bed. Fenny had straddled him and was working intently with the chocolate sauce, creating a masterpiece on his torso.

“Nearly done,” Fenny smiled cheekily as she let more of the sticky liquid ooze in a puddle in his belly button.

Brad tried to look down but all he saw was great dobs of chocolate sauce. He lifted a hand to Fenny’s thigh, where he took the liberty to remove a dribble of sauce with his finger.

“I wish we’d gotten some strawberry, too. It could do with another colour,” she announced as she sat up to take a good look at her work.

“This was supposed to be erotic. Color scheme really shouldn’t be an issue,” he said pointedly.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then smiled. “Don’t move,” she ordered and gently removed herself from his thighs. She dashed over to his backpack and pulled out the camera, which she switched on and removed the lens cap. “Smile, you gorgeous man,” she giggled and jumped up on the bed to snap her artwork. Brad grinned as Fenny dashed about, snapping his chocolate covered torso from various angles.

“That should give the developers something to look at,” he laughed as she put the camera on the dresser, satisfied with her photographic skills,.

“Now, for the fun bit,” she cooed and crawled up the bed, over Brad’s legs until she paused at the waistband of his boxers and smiled wickedly.

Brad meanwhile was of the belief all his Christmases had come at once and planned to thank Santa next time he ran into one at the mall. His belief was further increased as Fenny ran her tongue all the way up his body, only stopping to lick her lips and bring them lustily to his. Brad’s head swam as he tasted the chocolate in her mouth.

“You’ve turned a corner,” he breathed.

“You like?” she mused as she started licking the chocolate from around one of his nipples.

“If this was the Oscars I’d be thanking the Academy,” he gasped, his hands caressing as much of Fenny as he could. As her teasing licks moved slowly back down his body, Brad could take no more and rolled over, pinning her to the bed.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished,” Fenny huffed.

“It’s my turn now,” he announced devilishly.

“The sauce is on the dresser,” Fenny said, looking over to where the bottle sat so temptingly close.

“I thought we could share mine” Brad cooed as he pressed his chocolate covered body against Fenny’s, making her squeal, his lips nipping at her neck and leaving her completely at his mercy.

“Bonjour…c’est huit heures et quart…le temps pour le bulletin d’information…”

“What?” Gina mumbled sleepily, trying to pry her eyes open.

“I didn’t get past good morning,” Paul yawned as he reached out to switch the radio off before snuggling back into Gina.

“Whoever said this was the city of romance was a lying bastard.”

“You haven’t felt romanced?”

“Not from France itself,” she announced as she rolled over to face him. “It’s just not my idea of romantic.”

“See, this is something I’ve never understood,” he announced, propping himself up on one elbow. “Women are always going on about men doing things that aren’t romantic, right? And when you ask them what they want they say, ‘Whisk me away to Paris.’ So you do, and what do you get? ‘It’s not that romantic really, I’m a bit disappointed, let’s go home.'”

“Hon, it’s the little things that count.”

“My, that’s a big cliché for this hour of the morning,” he teased. “What little things, go on, tell me?”

“Ok, ah…how you emailed me every week, even when I didn’t respond. That was so incredibly sweet.”

“So, pathetic, lonely ramblings are romantic.”

“Hmm, more endearing.”

“Right, but it’s not romantic.”

“Not really.”

“So what’s romantic, I want definition here.”

“Romance is different for every woman.”

“Well, what do you find romantic then? Do you know? I have been romantic between the fabulous sex haven’t I?”

Gina giggled and patted his cheek. “Of course you have. The little cards you make me, even the weird ones with disembodied heads. They’re romantic, because it shows you’ve done something from your heart.”

“So expensive jewellery, dinners in fancy restaurants and exotic holidays aren’t romantic?” he asked.

“Well, they can be,” she shrugged.

He let out a groan and fell back onto the pillows. “I give up, women are too fucking confusing.”

“And men are simple and see through.”

“Gee thanks.”

“No, it’s true. Beer, sex and good food is all you need to survive, and in that order.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you drink the beer and combine the food and sex.”

“Or you have the sex, eat the food and then drink the beer to forget the sex.”

“Or you drink the food, have sex with the beer and eat the person you’re having sex with.”

“What?” she laughed.

“I have no idea,” he sniggered. “Although, I am hungry now, let’s get breakfast.”

Fenny rolled over and felt her hair sticking to her face. The previous night’s events flooded back into her mind, making her smile dreamily. Unfortunately, no matter how pleasant the memories were, they couldn’t mask the fact that she now felt very sticky and uncomfortable. She gently moved Brad’s arms from around her, and slid out of bed as quietly as she could. She pried a segment of her hair from her arm as she looked down at Brad sleeping. His hair was ruffled beyond belief and there were several very prominent love bites on his neck and chest. Fenny grabbed her panties from where they were hanging over a lampshade and headed into the bathroom.

She tried to avoid her naked image in the bathroom mirrors as she fiddled with the faucets. The water gushed out and she happily let it run over her, a faint trail of chocolate pooled at her feet and disappeared down the drain. She grabbed the shampoo from the shelf and managed to squeeze enough of to make a decent lather in her hair. As she started to wash it out, she felt a cool breeze on her back and then a pair of hands slide onto her waist.

“Is it just me or did that chocolate idea end up quite sticky,” Brad announced.

“Yeah, but the process of getting sticky was worth it,” Fenny chided as she turned around to face him. “And you’ve got the marks to prove it,” she added and ran a finger over one of his bites.

“Hey, so I do,” he mused. “How come you don’t?”

She shrugged and stood on her toes to kiss him. Brad pulled his lips away and then, with an evil glint in his eyes, latched onto her neck like a vampire. Fenny squealed in surprise as she held onto him tighter. Brad pulled himself away from her neck and giggled to himself.

“You did that where it can’t be covered, didn’t you?” she announced, trying to be serious but not being able to hide a smile.

He looked innocently at the ceiling and then back at her. “Just marking my territory.”

“Should I be worried that you might start spraying?”

“I’m not going to touch that,” he mused as he caught her in another kiss. She pulled her lips away first.

“As much as I hate to think about moving from your arms, I think we should get some breakfast.”

“Aw, I wanted to smother you in pineapple scented shower gel,” he whined, motioning to the bottle on the shelf.

“I think the pineapple will just make me hungrier.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Actually, I’m pretty hungry myself. You would have thought after all that chocolate…”

“Yes, well I’m not going to smear you in my breakfast.”

“What? I’ve always wanted to have scrambled eggs eaten off my stomach,” Brad declared as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.

Gina and Paul wandered into the dining room to discover none of their friends had appeared yet.

“We’ve turned into our parents, up before nine and first down for breakfast,” Gina sighed.

“Christ, this is the first time I’ve felt really married,” Paul agreed.

She turned to him slowly. “I feel I should slap you for that.”

He smiled cheekily. “Let’s get the table by the window,” he announced and led her by the hand. They sat at either side of the table and both reached for the menu at the same time.

“Ladies first,” she perked.

“Sure, find me a lady…” he cackled and snatched the menu.

“Prick,” she giggled, shaking her head.

“Oh bitchy,” he teased as a waitress approached

“Good morning,” she announced in a thick French accent. “Are you ready to order?”

“Oui,” Paul mused. Gina rolled her eyes. “Two croissants and a pot of tea, thanks.”

The waitress smiled as she scribbled the order and then hurried off again.

“Croissants, god I haven’t had a croissant in ages,” Gina gasped.

“Paul has, haven’t you?” Fenny teased as she and Brad appeared at the table and slid into their seats, Fenny next to Paul and Brad next to Gina.

“Why do I feel this is a story I want to hear?” Gina smirked.

“I’ll continue then,” Fenny chirped.

“No,” Paul groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“He turned up on my doorstep one morning with a bag of croissants but couldn’t eat them because it made him think of you.”

“Shit,” Paul huffed, embarrassed by the admission that he actually had a heart.

“Aww, you lovely man,” Gina cooed. “For the record, that’s sweet, romantic, and a tad sad.”

“Can we move on to something else?” Paul begged. “Like that charming love bite on Fen’s neck.”

Fenny’s hand instantly shot to her neck to cover the prominent red mark. “Can we talk about something else?”

“It’s too late for that,” Paul mused.

Gina looked over at Brad. “I’m not even going to ask if you have any.”

Brad grinned and then averted his attention. “Greg, let’s talk about Greg.”

Everyone turned to see Greg sauntering over the table; he looked at them all slightly miffed.

“Morning,” Brad smiled.

“I just want to say, Gina, if he went any harder he would have broken. Paul, if she’d done that it would have been illegal. Brad, you’re not supposed to stick your face there and Fen, I don’t know about God but the entire population of penguins on the farthest, southernmost part of Antarctica would have fucking heard you.”

Fenny, Brad, Paul and Gina looked in different directions, all considerably sheepish.

“So ah, you want some breakfast?” Gina shrugged.

“No time, I’ve gotta get to the airport, catching a plane back to E-Burgh,” Greg replied.

“You’re not leaving us?” Paul gasped.

“Sorry kids, I’ve got gigs to make up,” Greg declared.

“Well that’s no fun,” Fenny huffed.

“Yes, well if last night is any indication, you hardly need me around,” Greg jeered. “Unless you guys want to head back with me?”

“We can’t leave yet,” Paul announced.

“Why?” Gina asked.

“I promised to take Fen to the Louvre,” Paul replied. “And I always keep a promises.”

“Oh yeah, I’m going to traipse half way round Paris dressed like a hooker,” Fenny scorned.

“Well obviously we’ll go shopping for decent traipsing-around-Paris attire first,” Paul countered.

“You know I’d love to stay and join in the witty banter, but I have a plane to catch,” Greg piped up. Gina hopped up out of her seat and threw her arms around him.

“We’ll all see you back in E-Burgh,” she mused and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Fenny hopped up next and hugged Greg as well. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble.”

“If I do I hold Sherwood personally responsible,” Greg jeered as Fenny pulled away and took her seat again.

“Anyone else?” Greg mused.

“Oh I suppose,” Paul sighed and got to his feet. “Mate,” he grinned as he approached Greg.

“Buddy,” Greg grinned back and held out his hand. As they went to shake hands they leaned forward and gave each other a peck on the cheek.

“Good luck, darling,” Paul cooed.

“You too, muffin,” Greg added with false emotion.

“They both freak me out,” Brad announced.

“Looks like you’ll just have to settle for a warm handshake from Brad,” Gina mused.

“Monsieur your taxi is here,” announced a waitress that no one had noticed approach the table.

“Merci,” Greg smiled. “See you when you get back to E-Burgh, and don’t go picking up any strange bags.”

There was another round of good-byes before Greg was finally gone.

After breakfast it was agreed they’d split up for a couple of hours to buy clothes. Fenny claimed a couple of hours was a long time but Paul had pointed out they were women and would take a couple of hours just to buy shoes. Gina agreed and dragged Fenny off in the direction of the nearest department store, while Brad and Paul headed in the opposite direction.

“It amazes me that even in a foreign country you can find flares without fail,” Fenny announced as Gina perused a rack of moderately flared jeans.

“Yes, but these will be special because they’re from Paris,” Gina perked.

“Right,” Fenny mused, “all I want is a pair of jeans and a shirt,” Fenny grumbled trying to find a shirt that wasn’t lacy, sheer or figure hugging.

“And sneakers,” Gina added, “my feet are killing in these things.”

“Yes, kidnappers have no sense of fashion,” Fenny jeered.

“And neither do our men, I mean…eh,” Gina teased, looking Fenny up and down.

“I plan to throw these in the nearest bin,” Fenny cussed. “Oh here we go,” she added finding a rack of plain shirts.

“Boring,” Gina groaned. “We’re in Paris woman, be slightly adventurous.”

“What? You’d rather I dressed as a cancan girl?” Fenny huffed.

“That’d be highly amusing, but no,” Gina giggled. “See, I think this is you,” she added holding up a tee with “Vixen” in English on it.

“Oh yeah, accurate description,” Fenny sarced.

“Hey, I’ve heard things about you that have made me blush,” Gina teased.

Fenny bit her lip, and then smiled. “Ok. I’ll wear it if you wear this one,” she perked, holding up a tee with “Bitch” on it.

“Cool,” Gina grinned and grabbed the tee. “Let’s get these clothes then and then we can get shoes.”

“Oh that excitement awaits,” Fenny mumbled.

It took them a surprisingly short time to get the clothes they needed. Both ended up in jeans and tees, and Fenny insisted on buying a shirt. Gina had decided against sneakers and gone for boots, and Fenny has never been happier to slip her feet into a pair of red, Converse sneakers in her life. As they exited the department store they walked straight over to the nearest bin and dumped their “clubbing” clothes and shoes directly into it.

“Good riddance,” Gina scorned. “Mind you, it was a definite change for you.”

“Yes, well I’m quite happy with my usual look.”

“You know, for an artist you’re not very…flamboyant.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll start wearing lime green flares, eating only tofu and have my hair cut into a crop.”

“No, then you’d look like a hippie lesbian and I’d worry.”

“Well, I’m just not that kind of person.”

“No, you never do anything un-Fenny-like.”

“There’s Fenny-like?”

“Yeah, safe, secure, wallflower-esque.”

“I feel I should be offended.”

“Hey, we’re the ones who have to live with you.”

“Now I really am offended. I do things that aren’t so, so spineless.”

“When?”

Fenny narrowed her eyes. “Go wait in that café,” she ordered as they stopped outside of one. “I’ll be back.”

“Fen, where you going?” Gina asked.

“Just wait for me,” Fenny huffed and headed back up the street. Gina shrugged and sauntered into the café.

Paul and Brad and taken ten minutes to find something to wear, and both looked like something out of a jeans commercial.

“So, where to now?” Brad asked.

“We have two choices: we could buy our lovely ladies something nice, or we can go and have an early morning tipple,” Paul replied.

“Oh, tough one,” Brad mumbled. “What would we buy the girls?”

“Eiffel Tower replica?”

“That’d be nice. What about tea towels, Paris tea towels,” Brad suggested.

“Beautiful, Paris tea towels with a matching spoon of the Arc De Triumph,” Paul smiled.

“And they say we never think of them.”

They looked at each other and cracked up laughing.

“I think we’d get beaten if we did that,” Brad mused.

“Strangled with the tea towels and spoons up the clacker.”

“There was a jewellery store a bit further up wasn’t there? Or we get them French perfume?”

“Genie hates perfume,” Paul muttered. “Jewellery is good though.”

“I’ve got it,” Brad perked clicking his fingers. “Lingerie.”

Paul giggled. “I like your way of thinking.”

“Thank you, and I like the idea of looking at underwear,” Brad mused.

“You think the assistants would model it for us?” Paul asked.

“I’m sure if we asked nice enough,” Brad nodded as they both grinned wickedly.

Gina was onto her third beverage and second cake when Fenny re-emerged looking like the cat that’d got the cream.

“What did you do?” Gina asked suspiciously.

Fenny looked coyly at her. “I can’t show you here.”

“Hey?”

“Come into the bathroom,” Fenny ordered and headed in the direction of the amenities. Gina jumped up from her chair and followed. Fenny was waiting and grabbed Gina’s arm, dragging her into a cubicle.

“Ok, now you’re really starting to freak me out.”

“Do you want to see or not?”

“I don’t know, I’m a bit scared.”

Fenny rolled her eyes and unzipped her jeans; she gingerly pulled them down a little to reveal a bandage on her thigh.

“Oh my god, tell me you didn’t?” Gina gasped.

“I did,” Fenny mused and peeled back the patch to reveal a tattooed monkey, with a little “B” on its stomach, on her hip.

“Well, that’s certainly un-Fenny like,” Gina breathed.

“Yep! You think Brad will like it.”

“The man is a sicko, I’m sure he will.”

“I feel very liberated.”

“You’ve changed,” Gina sighed, letting herself out the cubicle.

“Hey, nearly being raped by a madman will do that to you,” Fenny huffed and received a strange look from a woman who’d just entered the room.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Gina mumbled as she made her way back into the café.

“Wait up, let’s go find the guys. I want to show Brad,” Fenny perked, grabbing Gina’s wrist and dragging her outside.