“Liberal son of a bitch,” Andy murmured under his breath as the subject on the roundtable discussion turned to gun control.

“How did you end up with a right-wing conservative bastard?” Brad whispered as Fenny rubbed Andy’s arm soothingly. Andy continued to fume at the television.

“Everyone’s entitled to their own viewpoint, Bradley,” she reminded him softly.

“Well in that case, you know what I think?” he asked, dropping his voice even lower, but, even though Andy was just on the other side of Fenny as the three of them sat together on the couch, Andy was in another world and probably wouldn’t have noticed if Brad tore Fenny’s clothes off then and there, which was becoming increasingly harder for Brad not to do. “I think you look terrible in that dress.”

Fenny glanced at him over the top of her glasses, giving him an incredulous look. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, I’m just saying you’d look better out of it.”

Fenny let one side of her mouth curl up in a wicked smile as Freya shifted in the chair across the room to get a better view of the television.

“I want to know what he’d do if someone threatened his family, he’d want a gun then, wouldn’t he?” Andy demanded suddenly of someone on the screen.

“I want to change the channel,” Brad sighed.

“I want you,” Fenny murmured.

Brad raised an eyebrow at Fenny. “I’d volunteer to take you into the kitchen for a quickie, but I think Gina and Paul have beaten us to the punch.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, and Andy quickly glanced at her. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“Nothing sweetie,” Fenny said, the smile dropping from her lips but lingering in her eyes. “Did I mention Brad here is a comic?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a real funny guy,” Andy grimaced, and Brad glowered at him. At first he’d been ashamed of his behavior in the bar, but the more time he spent with Andy, the more he realized he’d deserved everything they’d given him and then some.

“Paul’s a comedian too,” Freya perked, glad the conversation had drifted to something she could contribute to.

“When he’s not threatening to piss on people, maybe,” Andy huffed.

“Actually,” Fenny smiled, “that’s part of his act.” Andy turned to her, agog. “Audience torment, it’s an Australian thing I think, darling.”

“Paul and Gina sure are taking a while getting the dishes done, aren’t they?” Freya mused.

“They are,” Brad grinned.

“Gina’s very thorough,” Fenny assured her.

“And Paul leaves no nook or cranny unnoticed,” Brad cackled, letting out an “oof” as Fenny elbowed him gently in the ribs.

“Maybe I should check on them,” Freya said, jumping up, “see if they need any help.”

“No,” Fenny gasped. “I mean, wait a minute, Freya, you haven’t told us what you do for a living? I understand you work with Gina?”

“Yes,” Freya nodded, readjusting herself into her armchair, “I’m an arts journalist for the paper Gina works for.”

“That’s a coincidence,” Andy said, his attention torn from the television momentarily due to the commercial break. “Fen’s an artist. Likes to think she is, anyway.”

“Oh really?” Freya perked. “What do you do, exactly?”

“Graphic design mainly, but I dabble in the fine arts when I have the time, oils, ink, drawing, things like that.”

“That’s fascinating, because I just reviewed a show of minimalist art that was absolutely breathtaking.”

“I’ve never really been into minimalism,” Fenny shrugged.

“Oh, but you would’ve loved this, it was fabulous.”

Fenny and Brad spent the next five minutes nodding disinterestedly when prompted by Freya to do so while trying to ignore Andy’s increasingly violent rants at the television.

Knowing what Fenny did about Paul and his distaste for pretentious art snobs, she had to wonder what had attracted him to Freya, who was babbling relentlessly about antiquated artistic ideals and the quality of the food at the show’s opening.

Gina and Paul lay panting at the lighting fixture as the cold of the linoleum on their backs cooled their bodies. “So you’ll tell Freya how to do that?” Paul gasped, breaking into giggles.

“A magician never gives away their secrets,” Gina breathed, rolling onto one elbow to kiss him. “We should get off the floor and do the dishes before someone gets suspicious.”

“We made a mess,” Paul noted as he sat up.

“Could you hand me those?” she asked, pointing to the drawer from which her panties were hanging.

“Where’s my pants?” he asked as he handed her the underwear.

“Check the stove.”

“Right.”

“I’ll wash, you dry?”

“Sure,” he said, trying to get his pants on as he leaned against the refrigerator door, and promptly slid down it, his sock feet doing nothing to aid in the endeavor. He decided he needed his shoes on to combat the slick flooring, but couldn’t possibly get his pants on over them, so opted instead to get dressed on the ground.

“How did a man like you end up with two women?” Gina mused, shaking her head at her husband’s stupidity as she finished buttoning up her shirt.

“It’s the vulnerability that attracts ‘em,” Paul declared in a childish voice.

“Not your buns of steel?”

“No, that’s just Fenny.”

“Please, she’s got enough men already.”

“Always room for one more,” he shrugged.

“Shut up and dry,” Gina chuckled, dropping a dishrag on his head as she turned on the tap to warm the rapidly cooling water in the sink.

“I told you Carl, there’s no way in hell we can get it done by Friday. It can’t be done. I don’t give a damn what they want. What’s the demo? That’s stupid…”

“What’s he talking about?” Brad asked Fenny.

“There’s no telling,” she shrugged. “I try not to ask, because then he’ll actually start explaining things, and it gets ugly from there on in.”

“I really think those two must need help with the cleaning,” Freya announced suddenly, heading for the kitchen again.

“No, wait, um,” Fenny said, jumping up from the couch. “I—”

“Now that Andy’s wrapped up in a call, we can watch real TV,” Brad perked, trying to help Fenny change the subject.

“You two,” Freya giggled. “You act like you’re hiding something in the kitchen!” She waved them off and headed off again, the other two babbling behind her, fearing the worst until Paul and Gina floated into the room, glowing, rumpled, and wet. “What did you two do to each other?” Freya demanded at seeing their wet clothes.

Gina and Paul glanced at each other and fell into a fit of giggles. “We fucked each other senseless, Freya,” Gina managed between laughs.

“You’re such a joker,” Freya snickered. “Really, how’d you get your clothes wet?”

“She threw her sponge at me,” Paul declared. “And I was forced to retaliate with a vicious attack with a coffee mug.”

“He started with the soap,” Gina countered.

“I’m so not gonna ask,” Fenny sighed, rolling her eyes.

“What’s with him?” Gina asked, pointing to Andy’s back as he gestured frantically with one hand as he addressed the wall.

“Some important business call, who knows,” Fenny sighed.

“What do we do now?” Freya perked. “Let’s play a game!”

“Spin the bottle?” Brad suggested.

“Truth or dare?” Paul asked.

“Charades!” Freya gasped.

“Oh, come on,” Fenny sighed. “Who plays Charades?”

“Aw, come on Fen, it’ll be fun,” Brad perked.

“We’ll start without Andy,” Gina said as she led the way back to the living room where they situated themselves around the coffee table with the area in front of the television cleared for acting. “Who’s first?”

“Ooh, me first,” Paul perked, jumping up into the performance area. He seemed to prepare himself for his act in a very melodramatic fashion, deep breathing, stretching, very serious facial expression, then took to strutting around in a circle, stopping to peer at Gina. From there he began making his trademark suggestive pelvic thrusts, and mouthing something that looked suspiciously like “fuck me” and equally dirty things between silent gasps and lip licking.

“Well Paul, start acting,” Gina smiled.

“It looks like something from one of your shows, Pauly,” Freya perked.

“Mating Habits of the Earth Bound Human?” Fenny guessed.

“Sex for Seniors!” Brad yelped.

“One of the Sister Wendy videos.”

“Nine 1/2 Weeks!” Brad chirped.

Paul lost it and cracked up. “That’ll work,” he managed as Andy wandered over.

“What’s happening?” he asked, taking a spot next to Fenny on the couch.

“They’re making us play Charades,” Fenny chuckled.

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged as Gina headed for the performance area.

“Deep Throat!” Paul yelled before she could begin anything.

“Ooh, Paul,” Freya chided.

“You can’t talk anymore,” Gina laughed.

“I can’t talk, but I can mime,” Paul said, eyebrow raised, and as Gina put her hands on her hips, he began a charming mimed rendition of “Deep Throat” that would have brought a classier bunch to its knees. Andy looked poignantly at Fenny, conveying his disgust, but Fenny just giggled.

“Well, I can’t beat that,” Gina chuckled and sat back down.

“I’ll go,” Freya perked, and popped up, smoothing her blouse down.

“Clueless,” Fenny announced with a grin.

“Oh wait,” Freya said suddenly, bounced over to the other side of the room where Gina was sitting, and dragged her “onstage.” Freya put her arm around Gina, who was visibly repulsed. Freya bounced around being painfully chipper.

“People we want to throttle,” Gina smiled.

“Stalkers?” Brad guessed.

“Friend?” Andy shrugged, and Freya pointed ecstatically at him as he beamed. Freya then grabbed Paul, put her arm through his, and marched around in a tight circle.

“Are you allowed to use human props in Charades?” Fenny mused.

“When have you ever paid attention to the rules?” Brad countered, earning himself a playful slap to the shoulder.

“Married?” Andy suggested, causing another bout of frantic pointing.

“For fuck’s sake,” Gina sighed. “Not My Best Friend’s Wedding.”

“Yes!” Freya cooed, giving Gina a celebratory hug.

“Fen’s turn,” Gina announced as she pried herself out of Freya’s grip.

Fenny shrugged and moved to the center of the room, biting her lip as she tried to think of an appropriate movie.

“Pretty Woman,” Brad smiled.

“The Princess Bride,” Paul cooed.

“Pretty in Pink,” Brad chuckled.

“She’s not in pink,” Andy pointed out.

“But if she was, she’d be pretty in it, wouldn’t she?” Brad countered.

“Oh, I know!” Paul perked. “Debbie Does Dallas!”

“What?” Brad asked.

“You don’t know the Debbie movies?” Paul gasped. “You poor deprived man. I’ll have to let you watch my personal collection!”

“They’re pornos,” Gina announced. “And before you ask, he does have a collection.”

“You people are hopeless,” Fenny sighed.

“No talking!” Andy commanded.

“I give up,” Fenny giggled. “I can’t think of anything that I could mime without Paul taking it the wrong way. I forfeit to Brad.”

He hopped up excitedly and began his mime right away. Pointing to himself, Paul, Gina, and Fenny, then slipping Fenny’s glasses from her face, slipping them onto his own and sneering sarcastically.

“Well that’s Greg,” Gina laughed, and Fenny and Paul joined the laughter as Brad began doing a very Paul-esque copulation imitation.

“I’m afraid I know where this is going,” Fenny sighed as she squinted at the unfolding scene. And, sure enough, imaginary guns were drawn.

“Did someone sell the movie rights to our story without my knowledge?” Paul asked.

“Obviously a flick about a bunch of nutbars,” Gina shrugged.

“Oh!” Fenny shrieked. “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World!”

“Yes!” Brad yelped, handing her back her specs.

“How did you figure that out?” Andy gasped.

“He likes that movie,” she shrugged. “Your turn.” Fenny patted his knee and Andy wandered into the performance area to begin a slow, melancholy mime that didn’t make a lot of sense.

“I’m bored already,” Paul yawned. “Must be Schindler’s List.”

“You’re right,” Andy nodded. “Was my representation of repressed Jews really that accurate?”

“Sure mate,” Paul agreed. “That’s what it was.”

The game continued late into the evening with only three calls from Andy’s cell interrupting them, the movies getting progressively more obscure and the miming more obscene, until Paul ended up with some sort of X-rated version of Snow White. (“Which dwarf is he?” “Grumpy.” “Dopey.” “Dickhead.” “But Gina, there was no dwarf named Dickhead.” “You’re obviously not reading the right versions, Freya.” “Read? I thought it was a movie.”) It was around that time Andy received his fourth call and decided enough was enough.

“Are you about ready to go home Fen?” he asked hopefully between rounds, tired of the frivolity of it all.

“What? Now?” Paul gasped. “It’s still early.”

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning,” Andy explained, glancing at his watch.

“You go on home, Andy,” Gina perked. “I can take Fen home when I leave.”

“Don’t you want to come back to the hotel with me?” Andy asked sweetly as Fenny pouted at the coffee table.

In all honesty she wanted to stay, but that would have meant more dealing with Freya, and being polite was becoming difficult, and more dealing with Brad, and being chaste was becoming nearly impossible. “I probably should, guys,” she sighed. “Big day tomorrow.”

“You have plans?” Andy asked, and Gina rolled her eyes, having a pretty good idea what Fenny had planned for the next day that had little to do with Andy.

“Sight seeing,” she assured him as he stood and helped her up from the couch. “Well, bye guys, we need to get together again before I head back to LA.”

“Absolutely,” Gina said as she wandered over to give her a goodbye hug, followed by Paul, who Fenny kissed on the cheek. As Paul begrudgingly shook Andy’s hand, she shook Freya’s, then turned to Brad. Her heart began beating even faster, and it took every ounce of self restraint from each of them not to fall into a familiar, longing embrace and instead satisfied themselves with a friendly hug and polite pecks on the cheek, placed closer to the lips than was probably necessary.

Fenny cleared her throat as she let Andy wrap an arm around her waist and guide her to the door, which Paul was holding open for them. “See you around, Fen,” he perked, and with a rousing chorus of goodbyes, the couple headed for the hotel.

The remaining four looked at each other. “Well,” Gina said eventually, “I guess I should be going as well. Work, you know.”

“Yes, it never seems to stop, does it?” Freya chuckled.

“No. Well…”

“Hey Gina,” Brad perked suddenly. “Didn’t you say something about a spare room at your place?”

“Yes,” she agreed reluctantly.

“Think I could stay a few days with you?” he pleaded. “I’m afraid I might be wearing out my welcome here.”

“No, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” Paul chirped, but Freya was pointedly silent.

Gina let out a sigh. It was apparent Freya still thought Brad was a bad influence on Paul, even though it was probably more true the other way around, and it would be easier on everyone if Brad wasn’t around. It could even be nice to have someone around for a change. “Fine,” she sighed. “But if you keep acting out scenes from Earth Girls are Easy, out you go.”

“Ruin all my fun,” Brad laughed. “What about Amazon Women from Outer Space?”

“You need help,” Gina sniggered.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way,” he said, batting his eyes.

“I don’t want you period,” she smiled. “But I’ll put up with you for Paul’s sake.” Gina looked coyly at Paul and reached up to hug him goodbye as Brad dashed down the hall to gather his things.

“See you round darling,” he cooed, pressing his body against hers. “Can I help you do the dishes again sometime soon?”

“We’ll see,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she pulled away to kiss him on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Gina,” Freya chirped as Brad appeared with his suitcase to say his goodbyes.

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” Gina sighed, opening the door and letting herself and Brad out into the hallway.

Another chorus of farewells and they were on their way. “Thank you,” Brad gasped as soon as Freya had closed the door. “I don’t think I could’ve stood another night in that place with that woman.”

“Be glad you don’t have to work with her,” Gina groused.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me in to shirking off that important business dinner to hang around with a bunch of lunatics all night,” Andy grumbled as they got off the elevator and headed down the hall to their hotel room.

“I’ll have you know those lunatics are my best friends,” Fenny pouted. “Well not Freya, she freaks me out.”

“She was the most normal person there,” he pointed out. “I don’t know why you associate with people like them, Fen, they should be institutionalized.”

“You’re right,” she nodded as she unlocked the door and flipped on the light, “they’re insane. But I love them all very deeply and I owe each of them my life, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat them poorly.”

“They’re beneath us Fenny.”

Her jaw dropped. “Beneath us!? My god, you don’t know who these people are. Forget the fact they’re successful, forget they’re famous. They’re fabulous human beings.”

“Famous?” Andy asked.

“Forget it,” Fenny snapped, and stormed into the bathroom, locked the door behind her, and started the shower. As if it wasn’t bad enough Andy had made an ass of himself in front of her friends, he didn’t approve of them. He had no right. She continued to seethe as she undressed, but once she hit the relaxing hot water, her mind wandered to how wonderful it had been to see Brad again, the warm tingly feeling that still lingered from having him near her, looking into his eyes, wanting to run her fingers through his hair as he kissed her the way he used to….

She turned off the water and shook the thoughts from her mind; pleasant as they were, they were still far from appropriate. Andy was in the next room, quite possibly waiting for her. With a towel to dry her hair, she wandered into the bedroom, onlt to find him sprawled across the bed, taking up more than his fair share and snoring. “Danny’s right, you are a prick sometimes,” she muttered to herself.

“That was fun,” Paul smiled, sitting on the arm of the chair Freya had occupied once everyone left.

“For you maybe,” she scorned, standing up and heading for the bedroom.

“What?” he gasped, sliding sideways into the chair himself. “You didn’t have fun?”

“You told me you wouldn’t drink anymore,” she declared, coming back from halfway down the hall. “You were terrible to Andy, and you hardly noticed I was alive all evening.”

“That’s not true, I was just trying to be a sociable host,” Paul said. “It was one glass of wine, you had some too. And I wasn’t anymore terrible to Andy than he deserved.”

“He was a guest in our home, you shouldn’t have—”

“There you go again, it’s not ‘our’ home, it’s mine.”

“This is what I mean,” Freya pouted. “I’m just not important to you anymore, am I?”

“Of course you are, babe,” he soothed.

“And what’s with Brad going to stay with Gina, you said they barely know each other, or was that just another of your stories?”

“Well, actually, they’ve known each other for years,” he said cautiously.

“You made me look stupid,” she gasped. “You all had a good laugh at my expense, didn’t you?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” Paul breathed, trying again to reach for her, but once again she took a step away.

Freya paused a moment, considering what Gina had said, but couldn’t come up with a better solution. “The things for the couch are in the hall cabinet. Good night,” she huffed, storming back into the bedroom.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth as he wandered to the cupboard to retrieve his bedding for the night. It could have been worse, he told himself. She could have found out about Gina and the kitchen floor. “It was worth it,” he said to himself as he flumped onto the couch.

Brad rolled over and glared at the clock. Three in the morning. “Time zones are a bitch,” he murmured to himself as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep. Between jet lag and the emotional wringer of a day, sleep just wasn’t seeming a viable option. He opted instead to get out of bed, watch a little television and have himself a snack.

Pulling on his t-shirt on the way, he wandered out into the living room, where he paused at an unusual noise. Cat burglars in the kitchen? No, probably just the cat. Brad sauntered into the kitchen, leaned against a counter, and smiled. “Watcha doin’?”

“For god’s sake,” Gina gasped as she turned to face her accuser, “don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to be awake. Something wrong?”

“What are you doing up?” Gina chided, sticking her head back into the cabinet.

“I asked you first,” he countered, moving to look over her shoulder into the cabinet, which, from the looks of things, she was either alphabetizing or sorting by expiration date.

Gina let out a sigh as she pulled herself away from the shelves. “I’m something of an insomniac these days.”

“Because of Paul?” Brad asked cautiously.

Gina dejectedly leaned her head forward to rest on one of the shelves. “Yes. It’s hard to sleep when I’m not with him.”

Unsure what to say, Brad put a hand on Gina’s back, rubbing it in an effort to comfort her. It was then he noticed she was crying. “Gina?”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve turned into Fenny,” Gina sobbed, stepping away from the cabinet. His heart broke to see the usually so strong woman crumbling before him, and he guided her towards him. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. All of the anguish of the last – only two days? – came bubbling to the surface.

“It’s ok,” Brad said soothingly, patting her back and waiting for her to cry herself out. After a few minutes, she disentangled herself from him, and took a few steps back to sit on the floor against one of the kitchen cabinets. He adopted a box of chocolate biscuits from the counter and sat next to her.

“I’m sorry,” Gina said, her voice rough and still sniffling a bit as she wiped at the damp spot on his shirt.

“That’s ok,” Brad smiled as he opened the box and offered her one. “Wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” she demanded as she munched on her biscuit. “My husband has a girlfriend, and I’m ok for a good fuck but not good enough for him to love.”

“Oh, come on, Paul loves you, you know that,” Brad insisted.

“But he’s living with a bimbette whose only talents are getting on my nerves and making Paul horny. I mean, Jesus, I left my dream job because I was lonely and I assumed he was lonely and we were going to be together and be happy for the first time in years. I was so sure it was gonna work this time. You have no idea how crushed I was to find I’ve been dropped for what? Soy and oat bran woman who doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together to spark an intelligent thought. She actually wants me to tell her how to improve their relationship! I’m starting to wonder if it’s really worth it, I mean how long are the two of us ever happy together? It can’t happen.”

“Stop that,” Brad commanded. “I know where this reasoning leads to, and trust me, it won’t be fun for him, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be fun for you. I know you two, and you can make this work. You tried talking to him?”

“He says he ‘really likes her,’ which means he’s getting laid.”

“Well, then it’s probably lust and he’ll work it out of his system. Besides, he’s got you around to fuck him now,” Brad chuckled. “And don’t look at me like that, Fen and I both know that you two did each other before you did the dishes.”

“God, now I know how Paul felt when I was messing around with Greg,” Gina sighed miserably. “Why can’t people lead normal lives like they do in the TV? Why’s there all this fucking yourself over and nothing good ever lasts?”

“I think normal people have normal lives,” Brad shrugged. “It’s just us, we’re a group of people that got together because our lives are so fucked. But, so far, most of the time, things have worked out for the best. Most of the time.”

Gina munched on another biscuit, the chocolate soothing her in a way mere words couldn’t. “You mean all but you and Fen,” she mused.

Brad shrugged noncommittally and chewed thoughtfully. “I went to see Ritza today,” he declared.

“Oh?” Gina remembered back to that train trip to Paris, Brad’s declaration that he still carried a torch for the woman who had tried to kill him. “And?”

“She’s a changed woman. She’s raising her kid alone, he’s a great little boy, Gus, that’s her life now. She feels so bad about what she did, I believe she’s truly remorseful.”

“And?” she prompted when he stopped.

“She’s not seeing anyone.”

“That means you’re still in love with her,” Gina declared.

“I think it might,” Brad sighed.

“You think?”

“Well I saw Fenny today too, that’ll fuck up any man, seeing the two women he thinks he loves. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

They fell silent, staring at the handles of the cabinets before them. They reached simultaneously for the box of biscuits. “We’re really fucked up,” Gina announced.

“No kidding,” he laughed sardonically.

“You would think we’d be used to it by now,” she mused.

Brad nodded. “It’s hard being alone, isn’t it, when the person you want is so unattainable.”

“Or persons,” Gina smiled, then yawned. “I guess it’s back to bed for us, then.”

“Worth a shot,” he smiled, standing up and taking Gina’s hands to help her up as well. He moved to leave the kitchen, but stopped when he heard Gina continuing to move around. “I thought we were going to sleep.”

“Just let me put this stuff away so I don’t have to deal with it in the morning.”

“Let me help you then.”

“No, I like it,” Gina smiled, and Brad shrugged, smiled back, and headed for bed. He lay there, listening to Gina’s rustling about, wondering what would happen to her. If he’d known Gina was really this upset by it all, he’d have really given Paul hell.

The door creaked open and Gina popped her head in. “Brad?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking, maybe it would be easier, for both of us, since, y’know, we’re not used to being alone, just to get to sleep—”

“Come on in,” Brad chuckled, throwing back the covers. “No hogging the blankets this time, I promise.”

Gina padded over and slipped under the covers next to Brad. The comforting presence of a warm and somewhat familiar body nearby was surprisingly relaxing, and Gina could feel herself drifting off, and judging by Brad’s even breathing, he felt much the same. “Good night.”

“Night.”