Gina waited impatiently in the lobby, trying unsuccessfully to occupy herself with a few magazines. An hour later Fenny and Brad appeared, hand in hand, looking disgustingly happy. Brad had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a camera around his neck. All he needed was a checked shirt and sandals and he’s make the perfect, stereotypical American tourist.

“I’d put the camera in your bag,” Gina announced as she got to her feet.

“It’s easier this way,” Brad defended.

“Fine, but if a heroine addict rips it from your neck, don’t come crying to me,” Gina shrugged.

Brad and Fenny looked at each other and Brad slipped the camera off his neck and into his backpack.

“Are we going, then?” Fenny piped up.

“As soon as Paul gets here,” Gina replied.

“You’re not seriously making him come with us?” Fenny gasped.

“Oh yes,” Gina grinned wickedly.

“You’re a cruel, heartless bitch,” Fenny mused.

“I know, and I’m so good at it,” Gina sneered as Paul appeared looking worse for wear, the dark glasses doing little to mask his bloodshot eyes and raging hangover.

“Morning Paul,” Brad perked, slapping Paul on the back.

“Don’t, please,” Paul mumbled and took several deep breaths.

“Have you guys had breakfast?” Gina asked.

“Let’s say yes,” Fenny replied innocently.

“If you did strange things with the marmalade, I really don’t want to know,” Gina sighed.

“Can we just go?” Paul groaned.

“Sure,” Gina perked and led the way out of the hotel, past the doorman and into the street.

“So where might we be going?” Fenny queried as Gina grabbed a small notepad from her bag.

“The Castle. You seemed so fascinated by it yesterday,” Gina chided.

“Excellent,” Fenny smiled as they headed off in the direction of Princes Street.

“How long will it take to get there?” Brad piped up.

“Not long, I’ll take you up the Royal Mile,” Gina enthused.

“No,” Paul whined. “You’re just doing this to be horrible to me, aren’t you?”

“Are you accusing me of being childish and vengeful?” Gina gasped.

“I would but I’m too bloody scared,” Paul huffed.

Three quatres of the way up the winding, medieval path of the Royal Mile, Paul felt his legs start to buckle and took a seat on one of the many steps. His throbbing head fell into his hands and he started wondering how quickly you could organise a divorce.

“Man down,” Brad announced, pointing back to where Paul had stopped. Gina sighed and started her way back to him. Brad took the opportunity to grab Fenny and kiss her tenderly.

“If you start that we’ll never make it to the castle,” Fenny giggled.

“Ever done it in a archway?” Brad queried, noting the small archway up ahead.

“Don’t even think it,” she warned as she felt his hands slide onto her butt. “Damn, you thought it.”

Brad grinned and kissed her again. “I hope those two have a reconciliation sometime soon.”

“Darling, Gina isn’t angry. She’s making a point. It’s two different things,” Fenny cooed.

“Of course, it’s so straightforward.”

“It goes with the whole female thing of ‘if you don’t know why we’re angry, we’re not telling you’.”

“I hate that one,” he breathed.

“Shall we keep walking, they’ll catch up,” she suggested, catching him in a kiss.

“Can we walk back to the hotel?”

“No, I want to see the Castle,” Fenny giggled. “Get your camera out and take some pictures.”

“What about crazed heroine addicts?”

“I think you can risk it,” Fenny mused as she unzipped Brad’s backpack.

“Given up already?” Gina perked as she took a seat next to Paul.

“I get the point you’re trying to make,” Paul sighed. “Can I go back to the hotel and die now?”

“No, you can’t,” Gina replied nonchalantly.

Paul lifted his head. “I hate you and I want a divorce.”

“I think you’ll find you hate yourself and you’re actually feeling guilty,” Gina countered.

Paul narrowed his eyes. “Actually, I felt guilty before I went last night.”

Gina instinctively started rubbing his back. “The quicker we do this, the quicker you get back to bed.”

Paul rested his head on her shoulder and gave a tired laugh. “Carry me.”

“No, I think I’d rather watch you haul your hungover arse up to the Castle,” Gina declared.

“You are pure evil,” Paul sighed as he got to his feet.

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Gina smiled as she slid her arm around his back. “Come on, I’ll keep you propped up.”

“Gee thanks honey,” Paul sarced and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“SMILE,” Fenny grinned as the flash of Brad’s camera blinded Gina and caused Paul to yelp when the reached the Castle.

“When I’m not completely fucked, I will get revenge on you,” Paul scorned.

“Pfft, what haven’t you done to me?” Fenny sneered. “That sounded so much worse than it should have,” she added as they headed toward the entrance.

“See this area we’re walking across,” Gina piped up. “This is where they hold the Edinburgh Tattoo, that you are sure never to have heard of.”

“Not a clue,” Fenny nodded.

“What year is it?” Paul asked.

“Why?” Brad queried.

Paul thought for a moment. “Just making sure the ban has passed.”

“I’m not asking,” Gina sighed.

“How was I supposed to know they get offended when you have a fake orgasm on the 1 o’clock cannon?” Paul shrugged.

“That suit of armour is so cool,” Gina mused, then rolled her eyes as she looked over her shoulder to see Fenny and Brad sharing kisses in an empty hall. Paul, on the other hand, was leaning against a wall, rubbing his eyes and stifling copious yawns. To be honest it was lucky they had finished the tour and were on their way out of the castle. No one had really paid any attention to anything; Brad and Fenny had taken every opportunity to kiss, grope and coo over each other, and Paul was trying his hardest to stay awake, not throw up or jump from highest tower.

“Where to now?” Fenny asked as they hit the warm early afternoon sun.

“I think Paul needs to go to bed, and you guys obviously want to be alone. I’ll go sight seeing on my own,” Gina sighed.

Fenny felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sure we can stretch to a few more places, I still want to check out that monument.”

“Well go with Brad and see it,” Gina ordered.

“If you’re sure,” Fenny winced.

“Of course I am, didn’t I send you out on your own so I could be with Paul in London?” Gina smiled.

“OK, but we’ll meet up for dinner,” Fenny promised.

“You guys coming to my gig?” Paul asked.

“Oh yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” Fenny perked, before she and Brad headed off arm and arm.

“I’ll hold out a bit longer if you want,” Paul offered and he and Gina started back down the Royal Mile.

“No, I feel terrible for making you do this already,” Gina breathed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not really the vengeful type,” she sighed.

“So where you headed?”

“Museum probably. I want to go to the National Gallery, but that’s no fun unless you’re there to give me bullshit explanations of the artwork,” she chided.

“Tomorrow I promise,” he mused and pulled her into a hug as they walked.

“You want woken for dinner?” she asked.

“Well you can wake me, whether I can handle food is another thing,” Paul chided.

“Ok,” Gina nodded, planted a kiss on his lips and then headed off in the opposite direction.

Fenny and Brad fell into their hotel room, hands roaming frantically over each other’s bodies and lips not willing to part. Brad dumped his backpack on the floor and managed to pry himself away from Fenny long enough to slip his camera from around his neck and place it on the dresser. Fenny’s hands clawed eagerly at Brad’s jeans, undoing them as quickly as she could and letting her hands run over the silky fabric of his boxers as she slid them off. Brad practically tore her shirt off as they fell onto the bed. He trailed kisses from her chin to the top of her jeans, which he teasingly undid with his mouth.

“Well, there’s a skill I wasn’t expecting,” Fenny giggled.

“It’s taken years of practice to perfect,” Brad smiled and kissed his way up her body to her lips, his hands touching everywhere his lips had been. It took all Fenny’s strength to not give and instead pulled his shirt off, her fingers stroking her own name on his chest. They were locked in a wave of lustful, passionate kissing when a flash made them both jump.

“Shit, I must have knocked the timer on,” Brad gasped.

“Well, that should give them something interesting to look at when you get them developed,” Fenny giggled.

“Remind me not to show that one to my mother,” he laughed.

She was overcome with a case of the giggles and he couldn’t help but lose it as well.

“It’s not funny,” he declared.

“I was just imaging you showing your mom,” she laughed. “This is the Castle, and a Loch – oh and this is Fenny and I fucking like bunnies.”

“You’re a sick puppy,” Brad laughed and buried his face in the bed.

“Oh look, it’s a stuffed baboon,” Gina sighed as she looked uninterested at the stuffed animals in the museum. Sight seeing was simply no fun on your own — there was no one to make jokes with or tell interesting facts that you knew and made you sound intellectual. What was the other option though? Go back to the hotel and snuggle up with Paul as he slept. Gina looked at the pamphlet in her hands. Why was she looking at stuffed animals when she could be snuggled up in bed with Paul? What was she thinking? She crammed the pamphlet into her bag and headed for the exit. If you can’t beat them, join them, right?

“Are you calmer now?” Brad sighed as he propped himself up on one elbow.

“Much,” Fenny sniggered, “I’ve still got to do that stupid poster for your movie you know.”

“Eddie is going to be going ape shit, I’d forgotten about that.”

“I suppose I should really attempt to do a bit,” she sighed.

“Not now you’re not,” he smiled as he pulled her over to him.

“Oh yes and how do you plan to stop me, huh?” she teased as his lips met hers in another embrace.

“You need more convincing?”

“I think so.”

“How about this?” he asked, his hands sliding up her back.

“I think I’m starting to figure it out,” she breathed and nibbled his ear lobe.

“I don’t think you’re convinced,” Brad declared, pulling away and narrowing his eyes.

Fenny rolled onto her back. “I was convinced.”

“I think I need to be more drastic,” he nodded, grabbed one of he legs and nipped her thigh with his teeth. She let out a squeal and then giggled again.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she gasped as she inspected the teeth marks.

“Oh, I can do a lot more than that,” Brad grinned wickedly as he leaned over her, forcing her to lie back on the bed, and kissed her lustily.

Gina tiptoed into her hotel room, although she was sure she couldn’t wake Paul with anything less than a blunt object to the head. The curtains were drawn and he was nothing more than a lump beneath the sheets in the bed. She kicked her shoes off and stripped to her shirt. She headed toward the bed but stopped to take her hair out of the ponytail she’d done earlier. When she turned round the sheets had been pulled back.

“Did I wake you?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ve been waiting,” he replied, not opening his eyes.

She slid into bed and they snuggled up.

“See, this is much better,” Paul said softly.

“I feel insane going to bed in the early afternoon,” Gina sighed.

“Loosen up and enjoy the life of a comic,” he cooed and kissed her shoulder.

“I’ll just set the alarm,” she announced and grabbed the clock.

“So anal,” he mused sleepily.

“One of us has to be or my work and your gig could be in trouble.”

“My internal body clock is never wrong.”

“Never?”

“Almost never. Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“Well if that’s your attitude,” Gina teased.

Paul grabbed the covers and pulled them over Gina’s head. He heard her muffled cry of, “Don’t you dare think of giving me a dutchie.” He let the covers go and she giggled as they got comfortable again and were soon asleep.

“And I thought we were going to be late for dinner,” Fenny declared as she and Brad studied the menus for the fifth time.

“Maybe they’ve killed and eaten each other,” Brad suggested.

Fenny looked at him strangely. “You really, really need time to sleep off that jet lag.”

“Well, if people would let me sleep,” he teased.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gina perked as she slid into the seat across from Fenny.

Fenny and Brad both looked at her in a manner which suggested they were hoping she’d explain her lateness, rather than one of them having to ask. Instead they took the option of simply not asking.

“How was sight seeing?” Fenny asked.

“I checked out a bit of the museum, got bored and spent the rest of the afternoon asleep,” Gina mused.

“With Paul?” Fenny queried.

“Well I wasn’t with Greg,” Gina scorned.

“Is Paul coming for dinner?” Brad asked.

“I think so, he’s just getting ready,” Gina nodded. “What’s on the menu?”

“Some glorious sounding chicken dishes and haggis,” Fenny replied.

“Going to try haggis?” Gina asked.

“I’m thinking about it,” Brad perked.

“Thinking about what?” Paul asked as he appeared, sporting a black suit, white shirt and red satin tie.

“Haggis,” Brad smiled.

“I tried it once, that was a mistake. A very drunken mistake,” Paul breathed. “You know what it is don’t you?”

“Not a clue,” Brad shrugged.

“Sheep stomach,” Paul smiled.

Brad looked slightly green. “Chicken it is.”

Fenny noted Gina hadn’t taken her eyes off Paul since he’d sat down. “Yes he’s wearing a suit, can you not drool in public?” Fenny teased.

“You approve?” Paul chided.

“Considering the state you were in this morning, this is a definite improvement,” Gina cooed as a waiter appeared.

“So what exactly are you doing?” Fenny asked as they arrived at the theatre where Paul was to appear.

“I’m hosting a kind of ‘Best of the Festival’ thing,” Paul replied.

“Have you rehearsed anything?” Gina queried.

“I’ve got half an hour to work something out,” Paul perked. “Anyway, I better go and talk to the people running the whole shebang.”

“Good luck buddy,” Brad perked.

“Ha! I don’t need luck,” Paul cackled as Fenny gave him a hug.

“Whatever nastiness you do, do it away from us,” Gina ordered, giving him a quick kiss. Paul said nothing but smiled wickedly at them before he turned and disappeared down an alley.

“He wouldn’t involve us, would he?” Fenny asked, slightly worried by that prospect.

“I’d put nothing past him,” Gina breathed and led the way inside.

The theatre was cozy, and instead of rows of seats, it was full of small round tables and chairs. Gina, Fenny and Brad took one at the side, near the middle. Brad ordered drinks while the audience filled up.

“Oh hey, I was thinking,” Gina piped up. “How would you guys like to have a day in the country, we can check out more castles and stuff?”

“That sounds brilliant,” Fenny chirped. “I could do some sketching and Brad can take pictures.”

“Sounds good to me,” Brad enthused as the lights went down, as did the music. The entire audience jumped as a voiceover started.

“Welcome to the 2002 Edinburgh Festival’s – Best of the Fest. Please welcome your host, from Australia, Paul McDermott.”

Paul flew out on stage and took several bows, screamed a bit and sidled up to the microphone.

“Completely mental,” Fenny sighed.

“Yeah, and I’m married to it,” Gina sniggered.

Paul started by insulting a guy in the front row who was wearing a Britney Spears shirt and then fell into a few gags about Scotland, which ended with something about sex with haggis. As the audience tried to regain their composure, he introduced the first act, Adam Hills, who was still looking decidedly seedy. Half an hour into the show, after a few more cringe-worthy Paul moments and a few more acts, Paul reappeared and before he got to the microphone, someone yelled, “SING US A SONG!” The crowd let out a loud cheer of approval and Paul smiled and shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t sing in public anymore.”

The audience cheered louder.

“Just fucking get over it ok,” he scorned. “I don’t sing anymore.”

“Gee the anticipation of whether he’ll sing or not is killing me,” Gina mused as the music kicked in.

“Well, maybe just this once,” Paul smirked. “Now this is a song that’s going out to all the mothers in the room. All those who were born of a mother, all those women who will one day become mothers, maybe a little later on this evening,” he said with a wicked smile and looked at a young woman at a front table who turned bright red. He grabbed the microphone and began to sing sweetly.

“She may be the face I can’t forget

A place of pleasure or regret

May be my treasure

Or the price I have to pay”

He stepped off the stage onto the first table, and sang the next line to a middle-aged woman.

“She may be the song that summer sings

The chill that autumn brings

Maybe a hundred different things

In the measure of a day”

He moved on a couple of tables, smacking people out of the way.

“She maybe the beauty,” he crooned to another woman.

“Or the beast,” he sang to a young man. “Oh sorry mate,” he added.

“The famine,” to another woman, “or the feast.”

“May turn each day into a heaven,” he continued as he stepped onto another table, “or a hell.”

“He’s moving in our direction, isn’t he?” Fenny breathed.

“Brace yourself,” Gina mused.

“She may be the fear of my dreams or the smile, reflected in a stream,” he sang as he stepped onto the table before Fenny, Brad and Gina’s. “Get out the fucking way,” he scorned to a man who’d reached to grab his glass. “She may not be what she may seem inside her shell.”

Gina couldn’t help but smile when Paul stepped onto their table, but then, she knew what was coming.

“She always seems to be happy in a crowd,” he began as he stepped over to Fenny and began to gyrate his hips, his crotch so close to her face that she could have grabbed his zipper with her teeth, and there was nothing she could do about it. “Why is Fenny so private and so proud, no one is allowed to see them when they cry.” He gave a few more little thrusts and stepped back allowing Fenny to cover her bright red face. “She may be the love that cannot be lost, may come to me from terrors of the past that I’ll remember, till the day I die.” Paul’s attention turned to Gina who was sniggering uncontrollably.

“She may be the reason I survive, the one I wake for, I’m alive.” He sunk to his knees, fist clenched for false emotion “The one I’ll take…” He hung on the word “take” and let it echo around the room. “Through all the rough and rainy years, me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears and make them all my souvenirs.” He jumped from the table, but still focussed on Gina. “For where she goes I’ve got to be, the meaning of my life is she.” Without warning he fell into Gina’s lap. “She…She.” As he finished the last note, the crowd roared and Phil Kay came bounding out on stage.

“Well, I think he’s safely out of the dog house,” Brad chirped as Gina caught Paul in a kiss, much to his surprise. He didn’t let it linger and jumped to his feet again.

“I so hate you,” Fenny declared.

“Told ya I’d get revenge,” Paul grinned.

“I never want to be that close to your crotch ever again,” Fenny declared.

“I could feel your hot breath through the fabric,” Paul teased.

Fenny’s mouth fell open. Brad couldn’t help but snigger.

Gina checked her watch. “Crap, I have to go.”

“Now?” Paul whined.

“Yes, I have to review Jerry Springer – The Musical.”

“You’re leaving us alone with him?” Fenny scorned.

“Sorry, I’ve got a job to do,” Gina shrugged. “You will be back tonight, won’t you?” she added turning to Paul.

“Half eleven at the latest,” Paul nodded, then realised Phil was nearly finished. “Gotta go, love you all,” he babbled as he dashed off back toward the stage.

Gina rolled her eyes. “See you two love sick puppies in the morning.”

“I like to think of us as a monkeys,” Brad corrected.

“Ew!” Gina cringed as she headed off.

“So my monkey lover, now what?” Fenny asked. “Other than intense psychotherapy to get rid of the image of Paul’s crotch.”