They left the Louvre, Paris and France in an uncomfortable silence. In fact the only words spoken from the airport, the flight back and the landing in Edinburgh were from Gina who managed to lie sufficiently enough to escape the question “Where are you passports?” The almost romantic nature of the past few days seemed so far behind as they walked through Edinburgh Airport; Fenny seemed to have reverted into her usual pensive mood, while Gina glowed fury and Brad and Paul just looked at each other bewildered.

The four caught a taxi back to the Roxburghe Hotel where it seemed they’d left so long ago. They watched the scenery whiz by; the taxi driver, seemingly concerned they were so quiet, tried to initiate conversation but was promptly ignored. It didn’t take long for the taxi to stop in front of the large Edwardian building and they piled out, Brad paying the fare. Inside the hotel, Gina and Fenny grabbed their hotel room keys with the guys following like scolded puppies behind them. As they approached the elevator, a familiar figure sauntered out.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you kids so soon,” Greg perked.

“So deal with it,” Fenny huffed and marched past him into the elevator.

“Ok,” Greg breathed, turning to look at Fenny in obvious shock. He turned back as Gina stormed past him. “Who attacked you with a box of Crayolas?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Gina sarced, “no really.”

Greg turned to Brad and Paul and mouthed. “What?”

“Don’t ask,” Paul sighed.

“Not going there,” Brad added.

Greg shrugged and decided to leave the latest domestic dispute – he’d have enough issues when he got home.

The elevator doors clicked closed. Fenny and Gina were already leaning against the back wall, arms crossed and looking like victims of the world’s worst cases of PMS. Paul tried to get close to Gina but she looked at the roof, ignoring him completely. Brad managed to smile at Fenny but she just rolled her eyes. Like a bubble, the tension burst as the doors clicked open and they piled out to head for their rooms.

Gina was first to unlock her door, marched inside and slammed it in Paul’s face. It stopped an inch from his nose. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was not a good start. He grabbed the handle and gently opened the door; he slid inside and found Gina staring out of the window. Cautiously he approached her, stopping beside her to look out the window. He looked from the window to her a couple of times and decided someone had to break the ice.

“Genie…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry because you’re not,” Gina spat.

“I’m not sorry for leaving Paris, but I am sorry for upsetting you,” Paul breathed.

Gina looked at him sideways, and then turned to face him. “I rarely ask for anything from you because I know how busy you are,” she huffed.

“I know,” he mumbled. “I’m a terrible husband.”

“This was one thing I wanted to do. One thing and you couldn’t do it. Yet we could spend half the afternoon at the bloody Louvre for Fen,” she scowled.

“Look, as soon as I’ve finished up here, we’ll go back to Paris and I’ll take you to the fucking tower.”

“That’s not that point.”

“Then what is? Cos I sure as hell don’t know.”

“That I’d do anything for you, and all you seem to want to do for me is to buy tacky underwear,” she cussed. “I know that’s what’s in the bag, I’m not an idiot.”

Paul looked at the floor and then back at her. “You think I’m selfish?”

Gina opened her mouth to respond when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it from where she’d chucked it on the bed.

“Hello, oh hi…Reviews? Yeah, sorry…my computer died. Yeah, what? Interviews? Oh no problem. Right, by tomorrow. Oh, ok. Right, not a problem. Bye.” The smile from Gina’s face dropped as she chucked her phone back onto the bed. “Fuck.”

“Problems?” Paul asked.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got to have all my reviews and interviews into the paper by 5am latest. How the fuck am I supposed to organise that, huh?” Gina replied.

“Don’t look at me, I’ve got a hosting job in two hours,” Paul shrugged.

Gina gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn’t expect you to help me.”

Brad looked over from where he was flumped on the bed to where Fenny was rifling through her bag, making sure all her belongings were still there.

“Everything’s there right?” he asked.

“Everything but my sketchbook, but then you’re happy about that, I’m sure,” she spat.

“Fen, you’re not still angry about the Louvre, are you?”

Fenny got to her feet and marched over to the dresser, looking for her hairbrush. “You have no idea how insulted I feel.”

“I was just being a dick.”

“Oh, you got that right.”

He slid off the bed and got to his feet. “Do you want me to get down on my knees and apologise? I’ll do it.”

“There’s nothing you could say or do right now,” she breathed. “I mean, maybe that’s why we don’t work, Brad. You’re not interested in me as a person, only something that’ll go down on you when you’re horny.”

“Fen,” he gasped, “I love everything about you.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Fenny cussed as she grabbed her toiletries bag and disappeared into the bathroom. Brad sunk back onto the bed, not sure what to do. He ran his fingers through his hair and just prayed she’d snap out of it.

By the time Fenny re-emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, she was hoping Brad might have gone out or something, but instead he flew off the bed and over to her.

“We’ve got to talk,” he pleaded. “You’re freaking me out.”

“I don’t really feel like talking. I’d rather be alone.”

“Fen, don’t block me out, this is the reason we fuck things up, because we don’t talk about them.”

“You want to know how I’m feeling?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“I’m feeling like perhaps I made a mistake letting you back into my life. I feel like I was better off without you. And I feel so, god, I can’t even put it into words,” she said, her voice wavering as she chucked her towel onto the floor.

“You want to break up with me?” he gasped.

Fenny looked up into Brad’s eyes reluctantly. He looked pained and upset. She opened her mouth but all that came out was, “I want to be alone.”

Brad, looking suddenly annoyed, grabbed his wallet. “Fine,” he breathed and stormed out. Fenny let out a long breath and then bent down to pick up her towel.

Gina tapped the keys on her laptop computer, not typing words but just hoping they might magically appear. When she did slip and a letter was typed it always seemed to be a “P” and that was beginning to bug her. It looked as though she’d have to phone her boss in London and confess to having nothing written. There was no way in hell she could catch up on everything when it was already early evening in Edinburgh. Gina started pawing through a handful of fliers again when Paul burst into the room, suited up and looking happier than he should have.

“Drunk already?” Gina sighed.

“Nope, haven’t touched a drop,” Paul replied. “But you have to grab your dictaphone and come with me and quick because I have places to be.”

“I’m not moving until I’ve got my work done,” Gina scowled.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he declared and grabbed her wrists, pulling her to her feet.

“Do you want to be severely beaten?” she cussed.

“No time,” he perked, shoving Gina’s dictaphone and a notebook into her bag and dragging her from the room. He ignored all of Gina’s protests as they walked through the streets.

“Where are we going?” she demanded.

“Just trust me.”

“No.”

He smiled at her. “You’ll be kissing my shiny shoes for this.”

“Oh, so you’re out to make a point, huh?”

“Possibly,” he mused as they approached the same theatre Paul had hosted at before their ill-fated day out.

“You want me to watch you?” she sighed.

“Yes, but there’s more,” he nodded and led her through a quiet back entrance and down several corridors. Then he stopped.

“Now what?” Gina asked, looking around the corridor.

“Right, well here’s the bit where I make a point. You accused me of never doing anything for you, right?”

Gina nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Behind that door there are all the main comedians of the Fringe. All are waiting to be interviewed and are happy to give you rundowns of their shows,” Paul said poignantly. “You can thank me now,” he added with a wry smile.

Gina glared at him for a moment and then broke into a smile. “I forgot I was married to a comedian, what an idiot.”

“You won’t hear me arguing,” he mused.

“Thankyou,” she breathed and wrapped him up in a hug.

“Does this mean we’re over the Paris thing?”

“No, I’m still pissed about that,” she scorned.

“Oh,” he sighed.

“Kidding,” she laughed. “You gorgeous man, you better get on stage. You’re being introduced,” she added and brushed her lips against his.

“Aw…What? Shit,” Paul raced off toward the stage.

Gina shook her head and then turned to the door.

Fenny didn’t have the heart to sketch anything, and when she’d tried to watch TV, all she’d found were romantic movies and documentaries on elephants. She decided to have an early night — anything for a few hours without having to think about the feelings that were eating away at her. She settled into the darkness and was starting to relax when she heard the door creak open. She pulled the covers tighter around herself as she felt Brad’s weight settle on the bed.

“Fen,” he whispered. “Fen you awake?”

“Yeah,” she breathed reluctantly.

He reached over and switched on the light. “I bought you something,” he announced. Fenny rolled over and sat up.

“Brad…”

“Please.”

Fenny took the bag he was holding, and hesitantly opened it. Inside was a brand new sketchbook. She felt some of her anger toward him melt. It was a sweet gesture, but he wasn’t going to buy his way out of this one.

“The guy in the shop said it was a good one,” Brad said, a hopeful look in his eye.

“It is,” she replied. “Thank you,” she added and placed it on the bedside table.

“I know I’m shit at showing it, but I do care. I wouldn’t have suggested you to Eddie otherwise.”

“Shit,” Fenny breathed. “I’d forgotten about Eddie.”

“Don’t worry, he’s probably forgotten himself.”

Fenny nodded. “You coming to bed?”

“If you want me to.”

“It’s your hotel room too,” Fenny shrugged and settled herself down again as Brad stood up to strip to his underwear. He slid into bed beside Fenny, wanting to hold her close but not wanting to get her angry. He switched the light off and tried to relax, but he just couldn’t.

“Fen.”

“Hmm.”

“I can’t sleep knowing you hate me.”

She let out a sigh and turned over to face him, she reached a hand out to caress his cheek. “I don’t hate you.”

“Feels like it,” he sighed.

Fenny moved forward and brought her lips to his. Brad kissed her back softly, his hands stroking her back. She broke the kiss and buried her face in his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t talk anymore and they could just go to sleep.

Paul opened the hotel room door quietly and was surprised to be greeted by a sea of black. He tiptoed inside and attempted to undress himself quietly, but he got his foot caught in one leg of the pants, staggered across the floor, pirouetted and fell onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” Gina asked wearily and switched on the light.

“Trying to be subtle,” Paul shrugged from his position at her feet. She gave a tired giggle and watched as he finished getting undressed. “How’d you go?” he asked as he chucked his pants on a chair.

“Fantastic, wrote it all up in no time,” Gina replied. “I do have a killer headache now, though.”

“Aw,” Paul cooed as he slid into bed and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t have the energy to stop him.

“How did you go?” she asked, nuzzling into his neck as he switched the light off.

“I have no idea since I made everything up on the spot. I don’t think the audience liked my jokes about Saddam, but to hell with them.”

“I like when you’re insensitive,” she cooed.

Paul sniggered and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Hey, I never gave you your present.”

“What present?”

“The one from Paris.”

“Give it to me when I’m less comatose.”

“Thanks for the enthusiasm.”

Gina giggled. “Sorry, I’m too fucked to move.”

“There’d be a first,” Paul teased and they both burst into sleepy giggles.

Brad woke the next morning to the sounds of rustling plastic and zippers. He blearily opened his eyes to see Fenny, fully dressed, zipping up her bag and rifling through her backpack.

“What you doing?” he mumbled.

“I’m going home.”

“Home? What?” Brad gasped, rubbing his eyes and trying to wake up enough to comprehend what the hell was going on.

“I need to get back to LA, get back to my life, y’know?”

“So do I, but can’t we go together?”

“I’d rather go alone.”

Brad looked blankly at her and sat up. “You’re breaking up with me?”

Fenny looked at the floor.

“This is ridiculous,” Brad gasped, throwing back the covers and getting to his feet.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Fenny breathed, slipping her backpack over one shoulder.

“Why are you doing this? We’ve fought so hard, it’s been a year and we still want to be together, we’ve proved that, why throw it away?” Brad pleaded.

“It’s not what I want. I thought I did, but it was just fantasy,” Fenny shrugged, reaching for her bag. Brad, looking devastated, approached her as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed. “I love you and I don’t want it to end like this.”

“It should have ended a long time ago.” She grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.

“Fen,” Brad gasped.

Fenny stopped, but knew if she turned around, she wouldn’t leave. It took all her strength to open the door and step out into the hall. She used her free hand to brush away tears as she headed for the elevator.

“…No, thank you that’s…wow, can I get back to you on that? Thank you, bye,” Gina ended the call and looked despairingly at her phone.

“Who was that?” Paul asked, appearing from the bathroom doing up the buttons on his shirt.

“My boss,” Gina replied.

“She like your stuff?”

“Yeah, loved it.”

“That’s great,” he smiled. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, she…she asked me something.” She leaning against the dresser.

“Oh?”

“She wants me to take over her job, as entertainment editor. That was why she sent me to Edinburgh, to make sure I was the right choice. She’s going into radio, apparently.”

“Right,” he nodded, biting his lip.

“But I’m not going to take it, it might be a great opportunity but I’d rather be with you,” she perked and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Babe, I don’t want to stand in your way. I mean if this is what you want to do, by all means do it.”

Gina couldn’t help but be surprised by Paul’s encouragement. “I’d love to do it, but I don’t want to be apart from you again. I just become a hormonal insomniac.”

“Well there’s only a couple of things I’ve got organised back home. I’ll get them done and come back.”

“Then who’s going to look after the cat?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, no matter what Moonstar thinks about abandonment issues.”

Gina let out a sigh. “God, I don’t know.”

“Then let me make the decision for you. It’s a great job and a fantastic opportunity. You’ll kick yourself if you let it go by.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Well, looks like it’s back to glorious London then.”

“See, everything is back to normal, we’re happy, Brad is a dickhead, and Fen is emotionally screwed,” Paul mused.

“I don’t even want to delve into that cesspool of issues. I’ll call Fen in a few days,” Gina sighed, not wanting to let go of Paul.

“It’s nice how we’ve finally got things worked out.”

“Yeah, if only we could stay in the same country for five minutes.”

“Ah we’ll be right, nothing can come between us, not even gun toting psychos.”

“What about time, distance, space, the cat, nuclear weapons, oceans…”

“Yeah, shut up now.”