Gina looked at the screen of her computer, the wide white field tainted only with the small blinking cursor. She sighed, wondering where her inspiration had gone, then came to the conclusion she hadn’t actually had much to begin with, and the recent events in her life had done little to encourage her creativity. By all accounts she should have been thrilled to pieces that Greg was in town, and even more ecstatic that things were going swimmingly with his wife and there had been no indiscretions between him and Gina. They were friends again, and she couldn’t remember when she’d been happier.

Well, she could remember, but she was choosing not to think about it. She had been happy with Paul, before things had gotten complicated. Why the hell had she agreed to take this stupid job? Somehow having Greg around to remind her of the feeling of companionship brought her loneliness and her longing for Paul back to the fore of her mind. Why couldn’t things be simple for a change?

“Do you think it was a good idea to leave Jaguar with the neighbors?”

“Fen, I promise you, Jenna and your cat are on the same intellectual level, they’ll be fine,” Paul sighed as they wandered towards the baggage claim. “Unless Jag punctures one of her implants or something, that could be bad.”

“You’ve been watching too many music videos,” Fenny announced with a smile and glanced around the terminal. “So, this is London, eh?”

“One of the least exciting bits of it, yes.”

“We have any exciting plans for our trip?”

“I don’t know how exciting you’d find my plans,” Paul shrugged. “I suggest you spend a few days with your sketching, there’s some great things to…” He paused to yawn. “To draw around here. Better than LA, anyway.”

“Oh yeah, that’s been one of the major draws to this country, lots of fun old stuff to enjoy. Ooh, and the museums, I want to see the Elgin marbles. You’ll come with me museum hopping, won’t you Pauly?” she cooed. “See how many other penises we can find? Oh, that’s my bag, could you grab it for me?”

Shaking his head in amusement, Paul leaned over to grab her luggage from the carousel. “Fen, you’re a nutbar.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” she grinned, leaving her suitcase next to him on the floor as he reached for his own things. “Could you take this one for me, I’ve gotta make a trip to the ladies room.”

“I’ll meet you outside then?” Paul asked, fighting the feeling of the walls crashing in around him. Fenny nodded and sauntered off, and he hurried towards the exit. The countless hours on the plane hadn’t been too excruciating since he had Fenny to talk to and generally embarrass. But here he was in London, and out there in that wide expanse of city was Gina. Somehow being this close, even if it was just in the same city as Gina, made him miss her even more, and the idea of sitting in the airport terminal was suffocating. He wanted to get out into the crowds and fool himself with the idea that maybe she’d turn a corner, their eyes would meet through the throngs of people, and they would be reunited by fate.

He sighed and satisfied himself with the task of trying to catch a cab instead.

Fenny leaned against the metal partition between pay phones, waiting patiently for her call to be transferred.

“Coleman.”

“Hey Gina, long time no see!”

“Fenny?!”

“Absolutely.”

“What, um, hi?”

Fenny couldn’t help but smile at Gina’s obvious confusion. “I decided to pop off to London for a vacation, here I am at the airport, it’s lunchtime, I’m hungry, you desperately want to get away from work I can tell, so I thought we could get together and remedy our respective problems.”

“How’d you find me?” Gina asked.

“I ran into Paul a couple days ago, well, he ran into me actually.”

“So I heard.” Fenny could hear the smile in Gina’s voice. “He emailed me a few days ago.”

“Did he really. Well that’s great.”

“So, how’d you find me?” Gina prompted again.

“Oh yeah, Pauly mentioned you working for the Sun, you poor dear, and I dialed up the operator, got your reception desk, they connected me to you. So, you wanna meet for lunch?”

“Why don’t I come down there and pick you up?” she suggested.

“Oh, no, actually, I should get my bags in a hotel first. Just tell me where to tell the taxi to go.”

A few minutes later, Fenny stepped away from the pay phone, smiling giddily and stuffing her note pad back into her pocket, and headed out to find Paul standing outside, still trying to flag down an empty taxi. She’d never had to be this conniving, and she wondered if she would actually pull off getting Gina and Paul together without their knowing it. Fenny didn’t know enough about their current situation to know if they would be willing to just have lunch together, and besides, this method was infinitely more amusing.

“Thank god you’re here,” Paul grumbled, “I was getting ready to leave without you.”

“Wouldn’t you need a cab for that?”

“I’m working on it,” Paul grumbled. “Bloody drivers.”

As if on cue, a taxi pulled up expectantly, and Paul frowned at it. “I’ve got good karma,” Fenny smiled as the driver popped out to open the trunk for their bags.

“Since when?” Paul gasped.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked, and Paul rattled off the name of some hotel as they piled into the car.

“So, we drop off our stuff and then go get something to eat, right?” Fenny chirped, smiling out the window at the pleasantly stereotypical murky weather.

“Fen, did you ingest something illegal, because you’re really acting strange.”

“This is England, I’m excited,” Fenny chirped. “It’s a foreign country where I haven’t had to run for my life, there’s art and culture and…things. The Comedy Store, that’s here, that makes me happy. And somewhere out there is food, come on, I’m famished, and I heard about this good place to eat from a friend of mine, I’m anxious to try it out.”

“You’ve already had time to research dining establishments?”

“Did I mention my dad was an Eagle in the Boy Scouts?”

Paul was beginning to get perplexed. “And?”

“He instilled in me their motto: Be prepared.”

“You’ve never been prepared for anything a day in your life,” he countered.

“I didn’t say I was consistent, I said I was prepared for London.”

“Maybe I should’ve left you with Brad,” he smirked.

Fenny stuck her tongue out at him and they continued on to the hotel in silence.

Gina sat at the small table in the quiet little restaurant, lost in thought. It was good to have something to think about other than her own problems, specifically what problem Fenny was running away from this time. It must have been big, whatever it was, if she was ready to hop another ocean. Gina could only hope that Brad hadn’t managed to break Fenny’s heart again, because she really wasn’t prepared to deal with another one of those crises. Then again, Fenny had sounded almost abnormally chipper on the phone. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

A painfully familiar voice, the only other Aussie twang she’d heard for ages, echoed through the crowded room and settled heavily on her heart. It couldn’t be. Gina looked up quickly and found a beaming Fenny and a baffled Paul heading in her direction.

She dropped her eyes to the table instantly. For fuck’s sake, what was he doing here? Sure, that was exactly what she wanted, seeing Paul again, but she certainly wasn’t prepared for it. Quickly she collected herself. It was, after all, only Paul, nothing to lose her cool over. But god, how she wanted him.

“Gina,” Paul gasped.

“Paul,” she breathed.

“Fen,” they said together, and she shrugged, sitting at the table and picking up a menu.

“What are you doing here?” Gina asked, swallowing the desire to jump into Paul’s lap and run her fingers through his hair.

“Fen’s hungry,” he smiled.

“So you came to London for lunch?” she grinned.

“No, I’m here in town because I’m on my way to Edinburgh.”

“I should’ve known.” She nodded and there was a silence that carried on a beat too long to be comfortable.

“So, how’s it going?” Paul asked. “Enjoying your stay in London?”

“Oh yes, working as an under appreciated writer for a shit tabloid halfway across the world from my home is barrels of fun. Barrels filled with acid and locked in a bank vault full of fun.”

“Please, don’t mention that,” Fenny mumbled into the menu.

“Sorry,” Gina smiled. “Actually, all things considered, I’m doing all right. How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been pretty busy, the usual things, finished up the musical.”

Fenny frowned. They seemed awfully closed for the married couple she once knew. This was like two acquaintances chatting in an elevator. Were they really this uncomfortable with each other, or were they trying to keep their pride and not let on that each had been miserable without the other? Fenny would bet her life on the latter.

“I’d forgotten about that, did the tour finish alright?” Gina asked.

“Well, they did let me improvise, so you can imagine that by the end of the tour I got pretty bored…”

“Good lord,” Gina laughed. “What did you do?”

“Let’s just say that after one show in Brisbane, Marina locked herself in her dressing room and called for my head on a pike. It may have had something to do with suggestive actions with a chair, or it might have been the bit about the banana, I don’t remember.”

“I get the feeling I should send her a note of apology,” Gina giggled, “ ‘Please forgive my husband for his deplorable actions, as punishment I’ll have him bound, gagged and whipped.’ ”

“Ooh, is that a promise?” Paul asked, eyebrow raised and smile wicked.

“If you’re nice,” Gina laughed. “Maybe I should send it along with a basket of fruit, a nice ripe bunch of bananas on top.”

All three at the table burst into hysterics.

“These people must be worried about us,” Fenny mused as she noticed the eyes of an older woman on them. “Two Aussies and a Yank creating a scene in the middle of a London restaurant.”

“That’s what we do, isn’t it?” Paul countered, “two Aussies and a Yank creating scenes everywhere we go?”

“Hey, that reminds me, how was your flight over?” Gina queried.

Paul giggled at himself as Fenny rolled her eyes. “Paul discovered if you hold down your call button the stewards get very angry with you,” she said, “especially if you’re wearing your oxygen mask like a hat and clutching your inflatable life raft and the plane hasn’t even taken off.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Gina mumbled.

“It went downhill from there.”

“So I explored the art of origami,” Paul said innocently, “it’s a beautiful and elegant form of expression.”

“He nearly caused a riot by sending paper airplanes into people’s drinks,” Fenny explained.

“It was the sound effects that made it worthwhile,” Paul smiled, and proceeded to make noises that approximated planes being shot down.

“You can’t take him anywhere,” Gina said, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

“Do you remember the last time the three of us were on a plane?” Fenny smiled. “I thought we were going to be lynched right there in coach.”

“You take your life in your hands when you enter an airplane with Paul,” Gina nodded.

“You two would be so bored if I wasn’t around,” Paul defended.

“You’re not wrong,” Gina smiled. “Crap, look at the time,” Gina gasped. “I need to get back to work, they’re really not happy with me right now.”

“What have you done this time?” Paul chided.

“I spent all yesterday afternoon doing perfectly valuable research for my article.”

“You were with Proops, weren’t you?” Paul smiled.

“Yeah, took him shopping,” Gina laughed. “I didn’t get to go to his show last night because my editor is an evil bastard with a shoe fetish.”

“Greg’s in town?” Fenny asked.

“Yeah, you talked to him lately?” Gina asked.

“No, I don’t see much of the Whose Line gang anymore,” Fenny shrugged.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gina perked suddenly, “we should go see his show tonight!”

“Yeah, I’d love to see Proops again,” Paul smiled.

Fenny grinned, remembering part of the more subdued conversation on the plane, how Gina had told Paul that Greg was back with his wife, and how everybody got to be friends again. “Yeah, so would I, sounds like fun.”

“Great,” Gina nodded. The restaurant was nearly empty, and she cast another reluctant glance at her watch.

Fenny jumped up before Gina could say anything. “I’ll go pay the bill,” she announced, and grabbed the bill from the table, along with her purse. She gave Paul a very deliberate look and nodded her head a little in Gina’s direction. He frowned at Fenny, but she wandered off anyway.

“What was that look for?” Gina asked.

“Oh, you know Fen,” he shrugged.

“Yes, and I know you even better. What’s wrong?”

Paul looked down at his fingers. “Don’t hate me.”

“I couldn’t,” she said softly.

“I did something stupid.”

“I’m not surprised,” she smiled.

“I fucked Fenny’s next door neighbor.”

“You did what,” Gina asked, not expecting that declaration.

“I know, I’m terrible, I’m so sorry, but you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex, and I’m a man, I can’t handle something like that. And I was drunk, which didn’t help any. It was 60 seconds of grunting, I promise you, then we passed out.”

“Who was she?” Gina asked, and Paul frowned at her. She sounded strangely curious when he had expected irate fury.

“Some half naked, surgically enhanced harlot, bleached hair, tan from a bottle, works at Hooters or something. I called her an easy hooker in French and she fell all over me.”

Gina started to twitter, trying not to laugh.

“What?” Paul gasped, incredulous.

“I’m sorry,” Gina giggled, “but the thought of you off your face slobbering over some California bimbette is just too funny for words!”

“I know, it was so wrong. I mean, she thought Dali was the designer of Julia Roberts’ dress for the fucking Oscars and Matisse does Sarah Jessica Parker’s shoes.”

“Let me guess, she thought Pablo Picasso was a Mexican soap star,” Gina chuckled.

“I tried to talk about politics, but all she did was giggle when I mentioned ‘Bush’.” Gina just laughed harder as Paul’s face broke into a smile. “She drove me to drink.”

“I’m sure you needed her prodding you into that decision,” Gina jeered.

“After getting a 45 minute explanation on how it took her all morning to find a size 0, pink lyrcra g-string, you would’ve been driven to drink.”

“For some reason, I believe it. Although I wouldn’t have fucked her afterwards,” Gina said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m such a prick,” Paul sighed.

“No, you’re just a very stupid man who shouldn’t be left on his own to do stupid things anymore,” Gina soothed.

“Are you offering to keep me out of trouble?” he asked.

“I don’t want to keep you out of trouble, I just want to make sure that when you get in trouble it’s because of the kinky things you’re doing with me instead of some idiotic American whore.”

“Is that an invitation?” Paul asked.

“Could be,” Gina said with a marginally evil smile before catching Fenny shifting her weight at the counter across the room. She and Paul both looked to see her investigating the lacquered desserts with heavily applied interest, trying to give them space while they talked through what she’d made Paul talk through.

“Hey Fen,” Paul called, waving her over. “It’s ok, she’s offered me kinky sex, we’re all made up.”

Gina closed her eyes and dropped her head on the table as Fenny turned her eyes skyward. It was nice knowing some things never changed.

The television was prattling on about the latest cataclysmic car chase through Burbank, something Brad was well-trained at ignoring, not that he could have focused on it had he wanted to. He ran the scene through his mind, he and Fenny standing together in the hallway, both nervous and unsure, such a stark contrast to the loving comfortable relationship they had once shared. Before he had fucked everything up. And then she had reached up and kissed him. Brad, of course, had wasted little time kissing back, and after what had seemed like forever lost in the feeling of Fenny in his arms, she had pulled away, reverting to her usual flustered self, babbling about getting work started, and all but dashed out of sight.

This was all so much harder than he wanted it to be. He wanted her, her actions seemed to indicate she wanted him almost as badly, why couldn’t the stars align and allow them back together again? Of course he couldn’t really blame Fenny for not giving him a second chance. Their whole relationship had been based on second chances, and they had ended up miserable because of it.

Brad was so confused, he didn’t know what to think. The only thing he was sure of was that he needed to talk to Fenny, and she hadn’t answered her phone any of the fifty times he had called her that afternoon. He dialed again, waited, and quickly hung up after the fourth ring before the answering machine could click into life and that cold facsimile of her voice could remind him of how much he missed her.