Gina sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots as she tried to get dressed without waking Paul. She was, however, as elegant as an elephant when she was rushing about, tripping over clothes, fumbling with her hair and choking on deodorant fumes.

“Where are you going?” Paul mumbled sleepily.

“Work, unfortunately,” Gina replied, checking to make sure her hair was decent.

“I thought you’d taken leave?” Paul sighed, rolling onto his back.

“So did I,” Gina breathed as she walked back over to the bed. “I’ll try and get away as early as I can. In the meantime, I feel bad about palming Fen off like that last night. Take her out somewhere and cheer her up,” she added and leaned over the bed to brush her lips against his.

“Later,” Paul yawned and snuggled back under the covers.

“Lazy bastard,” Gina mumbled as she headed toward the bedroom door. She felt a rush of air on her ear and looked up to see a stuffed teddy bear fly past her, bounce off the door and land at her feet. She turned back to the bed to scowl at Paul but he was still under the covers, apparently sleeping. Gina narrowed her eyes and promised herself she’d seek revenge later.

“Get up,” Paul ordered, stealing Fenny’s quilt as he walked past and dumping it in the kitchen.

Fenny rolled sleepily onto her back. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because we’re going out,” he replied.

“Going out where?” Fenny yawned and begrudgingly sat up.

“It’s a surprise, now get up.”

“Do I get breakfast?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“We’ll eat out,” he smiled. “Now stop asking questions and get dressed.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Fenny scorned as she headed toward the bathroom.

Paul shook his head and began putting the futon back. “You try and do the right thing by women and what do they do? Questions, questions, questions. It’s never, ‘Thankyou for being so wonderful and choosing to surprise me.’ It’s always, ‘What devious plan have you concocted?’ or, ‘Will this small, black, cocktail dress be appropriate?’” he huffed, returning to the kitchen to retrieve Fenny’s quilt.

Gina arrived at work and was quickly ushered into an office she hadn’t been in before, although it was plainly obvious it belonged to the entertainment editor. There were free passes, CDs, magazines, books and bottles of champagne cluttering up as much space as possible.

“Gina,” a voice perked.

Gina looked to see a bleached blonde woman, about her age, in an outfit that was all too bright for a normal journalist.

“Karen I assume,” Gina smiled and extended her hand.

“That’s right, take a seat,” Karen perked as they shook hands.

Both women took their seats at either side of the cluttered desk, Gina feeling increasingly more uncomfortable.

“I know you’re on leave at the moment, but a little bird told me that you’re married to Paul McDermott,” Karen cooed.

“Sure, we can call it marriage,” Gina chided. “I’m not interviewing him; living with him is bad enough.”

Karen looked unsure how to take Gina’s comment and chose to continue. “Right, actually, I was wondering, since he’s going to be appearing in Edinburgh, if you would be willing to be our correspondent from there this year.”

Gina was stumped. Nothing nice ever happened to her at work. Perhaps her plans to kill Karen and have her body devoured by foxes had been a bit hasty. “Sure, I think I can manage that. What exactly would you want me to do?”

“Do I need to tell you? Your piece on Greg Proops was brilliant. We really want more of that, more reviews and more interviews with the performers,” Karen perked.

“Not a problem,” Gina nodded. “Why are you being nice to me?” she added.

Karen looked bewildered. “Because your article was brilliant, it’s just what we’ve been looking for. It’s like you really knew the guy.”

Gina gave a wry smile. “I know, you’d think I’d screwed his brains out or something.”

Karen gave a small giggle. “Besides, if you’re going to bunk off to be with your husband, and let’s face it we all have, you might as well get paid for it.”

“Good point,” Gina nodded as she decided she suddenly had a new found respect for this woman.

“Well where are we?” Fenny asked as she finished her chocolate donut and scrunched up the wrapper.

“The Tate Modern,” Paul replied with a smile as he dropped his empty Styrofoam cup into the nearest bin.

“No way,” Fenny gasped as she glanced up at the old building.

“Yes way,” Paul smirked as they headed for the door.

They stepped inside and were greeted by a huge room, packed with copious pieces of modern art.

“I take it you’ve been here before,” she perked as they wandered over to look at a Matisse.

“Just a few. This is Genie’s favorite because of all the Dali.”

“Speaking of which, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she sighed. “I didn’t meant to act like the kid from hell.”

“If it’s any consolation, Genie feels terrible for dumping you on Greg,” he smiled. “I personally feel it was necessary and have no sympathy.”

“If we weren’t in a cultural place I’d hit you,” she jeered and took the liberty to push him in the back. He staggered forward and nearly wiped out a guy in a lemon cardigan.

Fenny’s hands shot to her mouth as she giggled and Paul beamed at the man and babbled something about the slippery floor.

“Sorry,” she smirked as he wandered back to where she was pretending to look at a statue.

“You must die now,” Paul huffed, wrapped his arm around her neck and rubbed his knuckles into her scalp until it burned. Fenny tried to repress a squeal and it ended up coming out as a shrill giggle.

“Shit, security,” Paul breathed and let go of Fenny. They looked innocently at the roof and then the statue.

“So you think he was sculpting his own dick?” she asked.

“Man, he’s definitely been busy with the play-doh.”

The guard looked at them curiously as he stopped beside Paul to gaze at a Warhol. Fenny shrugged and started to walk away. Paul stopped, grinned and cheekily gave a pelvic thrust behind the guard. Fenny gasped, grabbed his arm and dragged him away as quickly as possible.

Gina arrived back at her flat, pleased she didn’t have to stay at work, and set about changing into something far more comfortable than work clothes. She’d managed to get her jeans on when the phone rang. She quickly grabbed the first top she could find and then raced into the living room to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey pumpkin,” was Greg’s cheery reply.

“Hey Speccy, how’d you know I’d be home?”

“I’m stalking you. As we speak, I’m outside in a dark trench coat with my Polaroid camera poised and ready.”

“Always the charmer. And they real reason?”

“I was just thinking that we all had such a great time the other night, if maybe we could all go out for dinner or something, before my gig?”

“Am I hearing loneliness?”

He gave a short laugh. “Are you interested or not?”

“Sure, it sounds like a great idea. The other two aren’t here, but I’ll inform them they’re going.”

“Such a diplomat.”

“Hey, if I worked for the UN, there’d be no war.”

“Only from the half dozen guys you would have fucked to get such a powerful job.”

“So you want to eat dinner alone, then?”

“You’re a beautiful, caring, sharing person who would never result to giving blow jobs to up her career.”

“No, I give them to former comedians instead.”

“Oh hey, that’s harsh.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”

“Babe, anything that comes from your glorious lips is lucky.”

“I’m really hoping that was supposed to be a compliment.”

“Make of it what you will.”

They both giggled unashamedly.

“Right, Speccy, I shall call you when I’ve spoken to the other two.”

“I’ll just be sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring,” Greg teased.

“I’m hanging up on you now,” Gina sighed and did so, giggling to herself as she headed back to her bedroom to finish getting dressed.

“You know what your problem is?” Paul piped up as he and Fenny studied a painting by Dali called La Danse. The painting appeared to be of a naked couple, with twisted bodies. He had his hand around her throat and was holding her arm outstretched and they had no facial features. Whatever the dance was supposed to be it looked more like domestic violence.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Fenny replied.

“You need to get laid,” Paul said bluntly. “When was the last time you had your brains thoroughly screwed?”

Fenny thought for a moment, then the horrible realisation dawned on her; the last person she’d slept with was Brad. “Oh my god,” she gasped, not meaning to be so loud.

“That long?” he chided.

“Oh my god,” she repeated.

“See, you need to get yourself back on the bike, so to speak,” he perked. “Fen?”

“I haven’t had sex in a year.”

“Shit, no wonder you’ve gone crazy.”

“What have I been doing?” she grumbled.

“Pining over Brad I imagine,” he sighed. “You still love him don’t you?”

“Of course I don’t,” she cussed.

“Fen, you haven’t had sex in a year and yet you’ve managed two passionate kisses with the man in 24 hours. You love him, no matter how fucked up things are.”

She pretended to study the painting and had a feeling she knew how that poor, strangled woman felt. “Doesn’t mean he loves me,” she breathed.

“Of course he loves you, he was there for both of those kisses,” he said as he put an arm around her.

“Yeah, didn’t follow me here though did he?” Fenny huffed, putting an arm around him.

“You’ve watched too many chick flicks.”

“So what do I do?” Fenny sighed as they walked arm in arm to look at the next painting.

“Whatever you want, babe,” he smiled.

“What happened to the McDermott wisdom I usually get?”

“Sometimes, Fenella, you’ve got to fuck the consequences and follow your heart,” he sighed.

“I take it we’re talking about Gina here,” Fenny chided.

“I could be talking about anyone. I mean what would you do if we walked into Brad right now?”

“Probably get flustered, make a fool of myself and end up pissing him off.”

“And if you didn’t think about it and just did what felt right?” he queried.

“Throw my arms around him and never let go,” she breathed.

“Now which one of those sounds more fun?” he asked, looking at her.

“Point taken,” she smiled.

“And here endeth the lesson,” Paul chided as he moved his arm from around her shoulders and skipped over to the next painting.

Gina grabbed her bag and headed toward the door as the phone rang again. She considered letting it ring, but gave in and answered it.

“Hello,” she sighed.

“Hi love, it’s Mum,” Gina’s mother’s voice chirped down the phone.

Gina rolled her eyes and dropped her bag into a chair. “Hi Mum, what’s happened? Why are you ringing?”

“Nothing’s happened, I just thought I’d see how you were.”

“Of course, I’m fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Great, I’m an entertainment reporter now. I’m being sent to cover the Edinburgh Fringe. Well, the comedians anyway.”

“Well that should be easy, you know most of them.”

“Exactly, and you’ll be thrilled to know Paul and I are back together.”

“Again.”

“Hey, at least we’re trying.”

“I wouldn’t take you back.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Well, you shouldn’t sleep around.”

“I didn’t plan to. Besides he hasn’t exactly been faithful. Why, only a few days ago he got drunk and bonked some surgically enhanced bimbette in the States.”

“Oh bull.”

“Mum, he’s not the golden boy you think he is.”

“He’s lovely, he deserves better than you.”

“Mum, do you want a decent conversation or are we just going to fall into another argument about my promiscuity?”

“Your what?”

“Nevermind, I have to get going. I’ll ring you later.”

“Oh ok, take care.”

“And my pill.”

“Gina!”

“Bye Mum,” Gina hung up the phone, let out a frustrated sigh and left the flat before anyone else could interrupt her.

“And this is Gina’s favorite why?” Fenny asked, looking at the painting of the melting clock.

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask her,” Paul shrugged.

“Ask her what?” Gina perked appearing at Paul’s side, her arm instinctively sliding around his back.

“You’re spooky,” Paul announced, looking at her strangely.

“How’d you know we’d be here?” Fenny asked.

“Lucky guess,” Gina smiled.

“I thought you’d be at work for ages,” Paul said as he wrapped an arm around Gina’s shoulders and pulled her closer.

“So did I. Actually, for once I have good news,” Gina perked. “The entertainment editor was so impressed with my article about Proops that she’s asked me to go to Edinburgh and be their correspondent.”

“My faith in God has been restored,” Paul smiled and caught her in a quick kiss.

“Congratulations,” Fenny chirped, feeling slightly left out.

“Thank you Fenella, I’m feeling so good I’ll buy my two favorite people in the world lunch,” Gina grinned.

“There’d be a first,” Paul teased and promptly had his cheeks squished together to give him a fish face by Gina.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood after you nearly wiped me out with a teddy bear this morning,” she jeered.

“Sowy,” Paul said through fish-puckered lips.

He and Gina both burst into giggles.

“So why is this your favorite painting?” Fenny piped up, turning back to the melting clock.

“It looks cool,” Gina mused.

Fenny shook her head and smiled. “Lunch, you say.”

“Remind me again why we’re going to dinner with Proops?” Fenny asked as they piled into the restaurant.

“Because the poor dear is lonely,” Gina replied as they spotted Greg scanning the menu at a far table. He looked up as they approached.

“Hey Speccy,” Gina smiled.

“Gina,” Greg smiled wryly. “Paul,” he added as Paul slid next to Gina.

“Greg,” Paul replied, looking at the wine list.

“You see what you’ve done?” Fenny sighed, looking over at Gina as she hung her jacket over the back of the chair and then took her spot next to Greg.

“What have I done?” Gina asked, bewildered.

“The Monkey Boy and the Proop Dog can’t even look at each other,” Fenny scorned.

“It’s hardly my fault they’re too immature to let bygones be bygones,” Gina shrugged.

“You know we can hear,” Greg pointed out.

“I happen to interested in the wine list,” Paul added.

“The monkey and I are perfectly at ease with each other,” Greg added and copped a glare from Paul.

“Especially since the dog got castrated,” Paul smiled wickedly.

“Boys, we’re having dinner and being friendly,” Gina declared and snatched the wine list from Paul.

“I think you should kiss and make up,” Fenny ordered. “Before we even look at the menu.”

“Fine,” Paul sighed, looking over at Greg. They leant across the table and gave each other a peck on the cheek.

“Sorry, darling,” Paul cooed.

“Me too, muffin,” Greg grinned.

Fenny and Gina looked at each other, not knowing whether to laugh or be slightly worried.

“You know, I think we stunned them,” Greg perked.

“Well, they did say kiss and make up,” Paul shrugged.

“Should have realised you’d take me literally,” Fenny sighed.

“Can we order, I’m hungry,” Greg declared and motioned for a waitress to come over to the table.

By the time they were on dessert, the conversation had fallen into interesting things that could be done in Edinburgh, from great flea markets to streaking the Royal Mile at 3am.

“You know, I might stick to the castle,” Fenny giggled as she finished the last of her strawberries and cream.

“Well you’re no fun,” Paul cussed and swilled the wine in his glass.

“So, can you two actually remember anything you’ve done in Edinburgh that wasn’t drug induced?” Gina asked.

Paul and Greg looked at each other, then in varying directions. Paul rubbed his chin and Greg took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

“Can we get back to you on that?” Paul mused.

“I’ll never work out how the pair of you ended up married,” Fenny chided.

“Yes, but you’ll notice they haven’t bred,” Gina smiled.

“I fear for humanity if and when they do,” Fenny nodded.

“So are you coming to my show tonight?” Greg asked.

“God no, I’m sick of the sight of you,” Gina teased. “Oh, I’ve got a couple of free tickets for some French movie if anyone is interested?”

“When are they for?” Greg asked.

“Tonight,” Gina replied as she got them from her bag.

“I was hoping for an early night, since we have to get up early tomorrow to catch the train,” Paul said, his hand making its way onto Gina’s thigh.

“You in bed early,” Gina mused. “Oh, right,” she added as he shot her a look that indicating he was talking crap.

Fenny noticed this and knew that the only reason Gina had brought up the tickets was the hope that she’d take them and give her some space with Paul. Fenny wasn’t really annoyed about this; she’d have done the same if it were her.

“I’ll take them. Who knows, maybe I’ll find someone to have a grope with in the back row,” Fenny smiled.

“You sure?” Gina asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded and took the tickets. “You kids go and have that early night.”

Greg looked at his watch. “I better get going. Remember it’s 9:30 am at Kings Cross,” he said as he got to his feet.

“We won’t forget,” Gina scorned.

“Good luck mate,” Paul perked.

“Break a leg,” Fenny added.

“Thank you. Fenella, no picking up any strange French men, and you two, always use a condom,” Greg smirked, before he turned and left.

“I’m stuffed,” Fenny declared and leaned back in her chair.

“Me too, great food thou…” Gina paused as she heard an inane high pitched sound, she looked to see Paul running his finger around the rim of his wine glass.

“That is really annoying,” Fenny grumbled.

Gina belted Paul’s arm and he giggled at his own stupidity.

“Well, I better go if I want to catch the beginning of the movie,” Fenny sighed and got to her feet.

“You know how to get there?” Gina asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Fenny said reassuringly. “If I get lost I’ll find a policeman, okay?”

“Call and I can pick you up,” Gina suggested.

“Hey, if I can handle LA, I can handle London,” Fenny smiled. “I’m not expecting to see you two when I get home, so I’ll see you ridiculously early tomorrow morning,” she added, pulling on her jacket and heading for the door.

Fenny sat in the darkened theatre. It was far from full and the other patrons were mostly couples. She’d managed to get herself interested in the film, though. The woman, Chantal, had been happy and successful running her tiny florist. Then she’d had a chance meeting with Anton. Anton was a rich businessman and he’d come into the florist to buy his attractive, yet slightly psychotic fiancée flowers. The attraction between Chantal and Anton had been instant and soon they were writhing around on the kitchen floor making frenzied, passionate love. This reminded Fenny of how long it had been since she’d enjoyed such a tryst. Soon things fell apart. Anton was torn between Chantal and his fiancée and Chantal had a fling with her ex, Claude. By the time Anton had chased Chantal to a small village and was confessing undying love to her in the rain, Fenny was in tears. She suddenly realised how lonely she was and how much she longed for Brad. At that moment she’d have done anything for him to turn up and take her in his arms. Hell, he could confess undying love to her in the rain. As she looked down at the pile of tissues in her hands she made a decision. When she got back to Gina’s flat she was going to call him, if only just to hear his voice, and she just hoped he so desperately wanted to hear hers.

“You do realise we’ve turned into the type of couple we hate, don’t you?” Gina mused as she unlocked the door.

“I know, we’ve turned into teenagers. I usually want to kill people who kiss in public and now I can’t stop myself,” Paul scorned.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she pouted as she closed the door behind him.

“I never said it was a bad thing,” he mused with a wry smile as he stepped toward her.

“Good,” she smiled, leaning against the door as they kissed. “I feel bad for getting rid of Fen again, she must feel so unwanted.”

“We could send her back to Brad,” Paul suggested, his lips moving to her neck.

“Yeah, but she’s enjoying London, really. We could get Brad to come here?” Gina suggested.

“Can we not get involved?” Paul sighed as he gave up on the foreplay. “If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, and God’ll intervene.”

“For a man who’s not religious, you sure as hell talk about it enough,” Gina said coyly and they headed toward the bedroom.

“For a woman who was whispering dirty promises to me in the taxi, you’re sure as hell taking a long time,” Paul countered, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know there was time limit?” Gina mused, stopping near the futon, her hand sliding down to his belt buckle and undoing it in one quick movement.

“I think now is the time to get a room,” Paul smiled wickedly, his hands creeping under her top.

“Who needs a room when you’ve got a futon?” Gina smiled as they sunk down onto it. It was, at that moment, the handiest bit of furniture ever created.

Brad sat watching the television, but none of it made sense. He was watching but taking none of it in. His mind was filled with Fenny and the obvious love that was still there. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to be with her. Lilly was spending more and more time with her soon to be stepfather and he was starting to feel on the outer. More than that, he was lonely and going internally crazy. Everything reminded him of Fenny, from some stupid song on the radio to a documentary on some artist whose name he couldn’t even pronounce. It was like tortured, mental masturbation, and if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to end up a bitter, celibate insomniac, forever with the knowledge that he didn’t at least try and make it work with her. He decided there was only one thing for it: he’d have to got to England, find her and tell her exactly how he felt. Greg was there, he’d catch up with him, surely he’d have run into Gina, who would be back with Paul and the feral choirboy would ultimately lead him to Fenny.