“So, saved her from certain sexual harassment, did you?” Gina asked as Fenny and Paul returned with drinks.

“Yeah, by slapping me on the ass himself,” Fenny chuckled.

“Hey, she was being accosted by some old guys and I said she was with me. I had to make it believable, didn’t I?”

“They were asking me if I’d seen their niece,” Fenny argued.

“Could be a come on,” Brad shrugged, Paul nodding enthusiastically in agreement.

“You were just retaliating for all the times Fen’s grabbed your arse, weren’t you?” Gina countered.

“Maybe,” Paul shrugged and plopped down in the seat next to her.

“How many times have I actually grabbed you,” Fenny defended herself as she sat next to Brad and opened her soda.

“You mean sober?” Paul laughed.

“The drunk times don’t count,” Fenny said, trying not to smile.

“At least when Fen’s drunk she doesn’t strip to her underwear and go running down crowded streets,” Gina pointed out.

“Hey, they tricked me into doing that,” Brad countered. “And you still owe me a drink, McDermott.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul soothed.

“Imagine, bribing each other with alcohol to do stupid things,” Gina said, shaking her head.

“You don’t even need alcohol,” Fenny giggled.

“This coming from the woman who tattooed herself to prove she’s got a spine.”

“I’m just glad that all the red grew out of your hair,” Fenny teased.

“You can walk home,” Gina threatened.

“Okay, sorry.”

The conversation continued for a while, rehashing some of their stupid stunts of the past and Gina and Paul introducing them to some of the people that wandered past in between beer runs and dodging blasts from water guns.

“I’m gonna go get something to munch on,” Fenny announced suddenly as she stood up. “Anybody want me to bring back anything?”

“Could you bring me back another beer?” Paul chirped.

Fenny rolled her eyes; if he and Brad kept this up, they’d become the night’s entertainment, and judging from the atmosphere of the party, the warmth of the air and the close proximity of the spa, she got the feeling it would be a “clothing optional” sort of affair. “You want another one, Brad?” she asked.

“No, I’m good,” he said, gesturing to her with his half-full bottle.

“I know you are.” Fenny ruffled his hair and he playfully swatted her hand away. “Gina?”

“No thanks, I’m set.”

“Behave while I’m gone,” Fenny teased and headed off towards the food. Eyeing a bowl of pretzels, she reached into a cooler to grab Paul’s beer and was startled when another set of fingers took hold of the bottle.

“Oh, sorry.”

Fenny dropped the bottle back into the cooler and her gaze jerked upward. “Danny,” she breathed. “I, um, I didn’t really expect to see you here.” If she were to be true to herself, she’d admit that she hadn’t wanted to see him, she’d wanted to take the coward’s way out and just not have to face him again. But she was glad she got the chance to see him again; he was looking very good in his board shorts and t-shirt, and she had to consciously push down the desire to run her fingers under his shirt and pull him into the shrubbery to make love like wild animals. She decided to nod numbly instead.

“I didn’t expect to see you still in the country,” he remarked, and her heart melted at the warm smile that shone down on her. “Andy says you’re getting married?”

“Yeah, I did,” she nodded, turning her attention back to the fishing of a beer from the cooler.

“Already?” Danny gasped.

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“Well congratulations to both you and Brad then, I know you’ll be happy together.”

Fenny risked glancing at him again, and though his smile was genuine, the pain was obvious in his eyes. “I’m so sorry about the way things turned out,” she sighed, turning the bottle over in her hands. “I feel so terrible, I never wanted — god I’m turning into a bad pop song now — I didn’t want you to get hurt, but the timing was bad, y’know?” She gave him a lopsided sardonic grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said firmly as he reached out to rub her shoulder. “I told you to work things out with Brad, I knew I never had a chance with you, I just got carried away. Not your fault.”

“Believe me, you had a chance,” Fenny said with a nervous twittering laugh. “A good one.”

“Not as long as Brad’s around,” Danny chuckled. “If I thought I’d win, I’d have fought for you, believe me.”

Fenny’s heart sank and she rubbed her forehead absently with the back of her hand.

“When did you start drinking?” Danny asked, eying the bottle of beer still clutched firmly in her hand.

“No, it’s Paul’s, he asked me to bring him back a bott—stubbie,” she corrected.

“Well if nothing else, at least I’ve taught you something of value,” he grinned, both remembering their poolside adventures what seemed like ages ago, each catching the other glancing over towards the crowded and boisterous pool. She saw the spark in his eye as the memory washed over them both, and she turned away.

“And thanks for that,” Fenny smiled a bit sadly at her feet. “Thanks for everything. I mean that.” She looked up at him again. “I meant everything.”

Danny could see in her face that she was trying to tell him that she really did love him, or at least had at the time, but he knew she didn’t want to have to come out and say it, not with that ring on her finger. “I know, me too.” They nodded at each other, neither knowing what to say and neither quite willing to leave. This had every chance of being the last time they’d see each other if not forever then for a very long time.

A Frisbee landed in the dip beside them, flipped over and crashed into the cooler of beer with a splash of icewater. “McDermott, you missed,” someone whined.

“I didn’t know I was playing,” Paul said, appearing from behind Fenny and shaking a bit of dip off the Frisbee before tossing it back to the players, who cheerfully resumed play as Fenny wiped a bit of sour cream off her cheek and flicked it towards Paul. “What’s your problem woman,” he scorned, “how long does it take to get a beer? Oh, hey Danny.”

“Hi Paul,” Danny grinned.

“Look Fen, you might want to go check on your husband, he’s thinking of joining a game of football they’re starting over there. I can assure you that if he does, he’s going to be going home dead.”

“Great, Brad surrounded by a bunch of drunken Aussie rules footballers, just what I need to deal with,” Fenny sighed as she handed Paul his beer. “How many beers he had so far?”

“Two I think, maybe three.”

“Then there may still be hope of talking some sense into him,” she laughed. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Danny chimed.

“Bye Dan,” she said. “It was nice to run into you again.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “See you around.”

“Absolutely.”

Paul raised an eyebrow at Danny as he watched Fenny leave. Once she’d been swallowed by the crowd, he noticed the look he was being given. “Yeah, I know,” Danny smiled. Paul grinned in response and headed back to find Gina and see if Brad had regained his senses yet.

Paul smiled blankly at the crowd buzzing around him. Gina was talking animatedly to someone he’d never actually met about the paper and how glad she was to have her job back. He downed the last of his latest beer — what, number five was it? Six maybe, could even be eight. He’d lost count — and stood at her side, debating whether to risk wandering over to get himself another beer or heading inside to find a toilet. A glance toward the drinks revealed none other than Andy Timms, and Paul decided his choice had been made. He grabbed Gina’s arm to catch her attention and whispered sloppily in her ear, “I’m gonna go take a slash.”

“Ok hon,” Gina smiled back and she watched with mild amusement as he made his way, swaying and drunk, into the house before turning back to her conversation.

Paul hummed idly to himself as he dodged through the crowd and then giggled out loud; he’d reached the point of drunkenness where he felt compelled to sing. He made a mental note to see if Brad was up for a verse or two of “Yellow Submarine” when he made it back to the party. But first, to alleviate the pressure in his bladder.

As he made his way into the house through the back door, he heard a familiar voice calling his name, and he turned to find Freya running up to him. “For Christ’s sake,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hi Pauly,” she cooed.

“What,” he demanded.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said, pouting sweetly.

“Then talk, but make it quick, I gotta piss.”

“Well I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened with Brad, and that I really do love you and I don’t really care about Gina, I mean I’m sure that you and I could make it work again if we just put a little more effort into what we had—”

“I’m married to her Freya, and I’m gonna stay married to her. You and I are over.” And with that, Paul continued towards the bathroom.

“But Paul, we had something special, you can’t deny that,” she cried, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards her. He stumbled awkwardly when she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss him.

“Let me go you fucking—” He shoved her off him and he tripped over his own feet, the room spinning giddily in his drunken eyes and he caught himself on the wall, which he followed towards the bathroom in the hopes that Freya had taken the not so subtle hint.

“Please,” she said in what she judged to be an alluring manner but what seemed to Paul to be desperate. “I love you, I really do, I know Gina doesn’t love you as much as I do or she never would have just left you to be with me, she obviously doesn’t want you.”

“Leave me the fuck alone you pretentious, tofu-eating, brainless stalker,” he hissed as he finally reached the sanctity of the bathroom. As he reached for the doorknob, Freya grabbed him by the arm, spun him around, and grabbed a handful of his shirt to pull him to her in a sloppy kiss while the other hand went deftly to his belt.

Paul realized what was happening and pulled away from her, standing in shock as she whipped off his belt and pulled his jeans halfway down his thighs. Freya took advantage of his disbelief and pushed him backwards into the bathroom, where he fell in a drunken heap on the floor, before crawling on top of him to lavish his face in kisses as she kicked the door closed.

Gina stood, horrified, in the middle of the hallway. Paul and Freya were going to fuck each other in the bathroom, she’d caught them in the act. They were even brazen enough to let Freya take his pants off in the middle of the corridor. The bastard had suggested they renew their vows just yesterday — he was probably just trying to soothe his conscience so he could continue to screw around with that bimbette while convinced that the little wife was none the wiser.

She just stood there. Even from that distance she could hear muffled moans and them thrashing around on the floor. Deciding then and there that that was it, Gina spun on her heel and headed out front to her car. If she stayed around until after they were done with their romp in the sink, she knew that he’d apologize and she would forgive him, and that was not something she was willing to do, not anymore. She’d had enough of him breaking her heart, she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to do it again. Without a word to anyone, she grabbed her bag and headed home.

“I can’t wait to get home,” Brad sighed. “Not that I don’t love Australia, but we never seem to have the quiet relaxing vacation we planned, do we?”

“Nope,” Fenny agreed, leaning heavily against him as they sat in the grass in a quieter bit of the yard. “I don’t mind so much though. But home is sounding really, really good right now.”

“Home,” Brad mused. “I can’t wait.”

“I’ll bet Gina can’t wait either,” Fenny smiled, “she and Paul can finally be alone for a change.”

“I think they proved at breakfast that they don’t care if we’re around or not,” Brad said, shuddering dramatically at the memory.

“It’ll be good to get away from those two freaks for a while,” she giggled. “When do we head home?”

“Mm, soon.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as Ritza and Gus are ready.”

Fenny scowled a moment before pulling away from him. “What does that mean?”

“I asked her to come back to the States with us, she’s gonna stay at my place in Montana.”

“She’s what?” Fenny growled.

“Oh come on Fen, don’t be like that. She’s barely surviving over here, if she comes over with us, she can stay in my place for free, and I’m sure Ella can help her out a lot with babysitting and things. She might be able to find a job, get herself back up on her feet.”

“What the hell are you playing at,” Fenny snapped, standing up to glare at him.

“She deserves better, Fen, if you only—”

“She deserves to be rotting in jail, Bradley, not hanging out in the house of her ex-boyfriend who she was quite willing to kill for.”

“Please, Fenny,” Brad cooed. “She’s my friend, and I want to help her out. Come on, I can’t just leave her and her kid to be miserable over here when I know I can help them.”

Fenny took a deep breath and unclenched her fists, rubbing her forehead with the fingertips of one hand. This wasn’t the way she’d planned to start her marriage, arguing and sharing a plane with a woman who ranked exceedingly high up on her list of least favorite people. And she certainly didn’t appreciate the fact that Brad would now have two women he’d been romantically involved with in such close proximity and so far from Fenny, like it was some sort of harem or something. But she was not going to let herself continue to follow her own self-destructive pattern, no matter how much she wanted to scream at Brad and storm away and tell him to fuck off. She was married and happy and she didn’t want their first fight to be over Ritza, and she knew there was no way to talk him out of it, no matter how much she pleaded. His heart was too big, his conscience too strong. Shit.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said dryly.

“I have to do this,” he sighed.

“I wish you’d have told me about your plans,” she mumbled uneasily.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Brad said weakly.

“You’re getting good at that,” she said, half teasing, half berating.

“I know. I’ll work on it, tell you everything that’s going through my mind.”

“Editing out the parts when you watch VIP and anything involving sports, right?”

“Hey, you might be interested in what I think when I’m watching Pamela Anderson.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I would be.”

“Call it an educational experience.”

“Call it repulsion,” Fenny chuckled and pushed the entire Ritza idea from her mind. She’d think about it later.

“Get off me you psychotic fuckhead,” Paul yelped as the immediacy of the situation finally sobered him enough for him to take control. He grabbed her, rolled them both over, and climbed off the floor and away from her. Freya grabbed at him, pleading with him not to go as he zipped up his pants and reached behind the toilet to retrieve his belt.

“Paul, don’t you understand, we’re good together, I love you, and I want to be with you. Gina doesn’t understand you the way I do, we have a special relationship together.”

“No, you’re delusional, freakish, and a bit sad,” Paul said as he worked on getting his belt done up again. “You don’t know thing one about me. I hate vegetarian food, I hate Tai Chi, I absolutely despise that velour thing you got for me, you tried to take over my life, and I don’t think I ever had a worthwhile conversation with you once. It’s over, I love my wife, and if you don’t get off of me, I’m going to have to inflict bodily harm on you.”

Freya, who’d wrapped her arms around him and was crying into his chest, slowly unwrapped herself and collapsed back against the wall, staring at herself in the mirror and trying to fix her rumpled hair.

“If you come near me again, I’ll sick Gina on you,” he declared. “Goodbye.” And with that he stepped out of the bathroom and tried to find another one, his bladder still desperately screaming for release. He glanced outside as he passed the back door and noticed Gina had wandered off. Probably rescuing Brad and Fenny from themselves or hunting out something chocolate.

Halfway to a second bathroom he ran into Danny. “Hey mate,” he chirped.

“Hey, you seen Gina around?” Paul asked.

“No, actually, I haven’t. Lost the wife, hey?”

“Yeah. Well if you see her…”

“I’ll tell her you’re looking, no problem.”

“Thanks mate,” Paul nodded before all but dashing into the restroom, leaving Danny to chuckle to himself as he cast about for Gina, trying to be helpful.

Fenny perused the spread for something that would count as dessert, but she was beginning to lose hope as she was confronted with a sea of chips, nuts, alcohol, barbecue sauce and a big enough variety of meat to make a PETA representative shut the place down. The occupants of the pool had started a diving competition, which had devolved into a contest to see who could splash the most passersby with the biggest cannonball, and she could tell from the girly squeal that met her ears that someone had just earned points by splashing Brad as he continued his search for a drink.

“Ooh, cookies,” Fenny cooed suddenly to herself, reaching across the table for a box of chocolate cookies.

“Well now, look what we have here.”

Fenny instinctively rolled her eyes at the familiar American accent, the slurred quality to the voice that told her Andy was plastered. She grabbed a few cookies and turned to leave.

“It’s the slut I made the mistake of giving a damn about. Three men at a time, and not giving any to the one who took her to Australia. What kind of an ungrateful whore does that make you, Fenella?”

“Andy,” Fenny growled warningly as she felt her face go hot from blushing, not wanting to create a scene but knowing she had to do something or he’d continue to follow her and announce her shortcomings to the gathering of strangers.

“Running off with the first pretty boy you met in Australia, now really Fen.” He pouted dramatically. “That’s okay, I don’t want you anyway, not like you were a good lay or anything. Not like Sam.”

Things were beginning to quiet down around them, Andy’s overly loud voice demanding attention. People were taking interest in their confrontation, and Fenny found herself right in the middle of another public display of idiocy. Just as she was getting ready to tell Andy he was drunk and they would talk later and in private if he wanted to, Brad appeared at her side. “Fuck off,” he hissed.

“Ooh, and the degenerate she conned into proposing to her, must be my lucky day,” Andy sneered.

“Can we just leave?” Fenny said, looking up at Brad who nodded shortly and took her by the hand.

“Yeah, that’s right, run away from your problems and the people you screwed, that’s so like you Fenny. Go back to your uncivilized friends and your nothing job in California. Without me no one’ll give a fuck about you, you lost the best chance you ever had to make it as an artist, you talentless bitch.”

Fenny couldn’t leave that unanswered and turned to retaliate, but she was cut short as Danny appeared. He leaned over to say something to her but was interrupted by Andy.

“Oh, and your other little boytoy,” Andy chirped cheerfully. “Where’s that McDermott prick, I’ll bet you fucked him a couple times too, isn’t he gonna come to your rescue?”

“I need to talk to you guys,” Danny said softly, looking from Brad to Fenny as he ignored Andy.

“This is the most useless bunch of people I’ve ever seen,” Andy mused, tapping his chin with his index finger in an ostentatious show of contemplation as his eyes tried to focus on the three of them. “A piece of shit comic actor, a corporate yes man, and a woman who thinks her crappy scribbles are art.”

Fenny felt Brad flinch but squeezed his arm before he could do anything. She turned and tried to leave again before something bad could happen, but Andy reached out and grabbed her arm harshly. “Let me go Andrew,” she hissed.

“Well I’ve got news for you Fenella, without me, you’re gonna go back to fucking dickheads like these assholes and trying to convince people that you have an ounce of talent.” Fenny tried to wrench her arm away but his fingers dug more deeply into her flesh as Brad stepped forward. “Fucking artist, like hell you are, I don’t know why I wasted my time with you, no-talent bitc—”

The smack of a strong fist hitting a face startled everyone, and as Andy stumbled backwards, both hands clutching his nose as he let out strangled groan of pain, Danny took a step towards him as he shook out his hand, almost daring him to say or do anything else.

“Ow, shit! What the fuck was that for?” Andy demanded as he straightened himself out. Tears welled in his eyes just as quickly as the blood welled in his nose, both dribbling down towards his mouth as he glared at Danny. Andy roughly wiped the tears of pain from his face with the back of his hand and was startled to see the blood that came with it. The sudden realization that he was bleeding made him even more woozy than the rather excessive amount of booze he’d consumed that night and he topped backwards into the pool. The audience that had been drawn to the tirade cheered at the splash he gave as he hit the surface, sending some swimmers scattering away from him while some swam to the rescue, dragging him to the shallow end of the pool and struggling to get the wet, injured, mortified and inebriated man to climb out of the pool.

As soon as Andy hit the water, Danny marched, ashamed and cradling his hand, into the house, and Fenny and Brad followed shortly thereafter, anxious to just find their friends and leave. Fenny figured if Gina and Paul had been outside they’d have certainly heard the commotion and found them, so she scoured the interior until she and Brad found Danny in the kitchen with a towel wrapped in ice, nursing his hand as a couple of women worked to made up similar ice packs which were most likely meant for Andy.

“You alright Dan?” Fenny asked cautiously as she approached.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Look Fen, the reason I was looking for you is Paul and Gina left already, someone told me and Paul that Gina left in a huff, she looked pretty torn up, and Paul grabbed a taxi home.”

“Shit,” Fenny murmured under her breath. “Okay, maybe we should call a cab, get back to Gina’s and see if we can’t find out what’s going on.”

“I’d offer you a ride, but after what happened, I’ve probably got to stick around to get fired.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “You didn’t have to do what you did, really.”

“No, I’ve wanted to for a long time,” he said with a sardonic chuckle. “If not today, it would’ve happened eventually.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Sorry I made such a scene.”

“No, that was Andy, the bastard. I should be thanking you for knocking him off his pedestal and promptly into the pool.”

“Fen, we should probably go,” Brad said softly. “Paul and Gina, they could’ve killed each other by now.”

“No, they’re no good at fighting,” Fenny pointed out. “They’re probably having makeup sex on the couch by now. But yeah, I’d like to find out what happened, at least give ‘em hell for leaving us stranded at the party.”

Brad nodded in agreement. “Could you have Gina phone me when things get worked out?” Danny asked concernedly.

“Yeah, of course,” Fenny nodded. “Try and stay away from Andy, apologize to whoever’s in charge for me, would you?”

“I’m sure nobody minds, it was the most entertaining part of the whole barbecue,” Danny laughed.

“Glad to be of service then, I guess,” Fenny shrugged and headed with Brad outside, shooting Danny one last goodbye smile and hating herself because of the tingles of regret that coursed down her spine.

“It’s gonna feel so good to get back home to LA,” Brad sighed.

“God I hope so,” Fenny murmured, leaning into his loving embrace as he wrapped his arm around her.