“You think it was safe to let those two loose on LA to get dinner?” Fenny mused.

“Well, they made it to the beach and back,” Brad reminded her.

“Yeah, but Paul came back injured.”

“True.” Brad looked down at Lilly who was situated on the couch between them, happily sucking on her teething ring and engrossed in an episode of Spongebob Squarepants on television. “Did you and Lil have a good day?” he asked.

“Well, I didn’t enjoy the diaper changing and the screaming, but I quite enjoyed naptime and arts and crafts.”

“That was really sweet, the painting you did.”

“It was all Lilly,” Fenny smiled. “Granted we’ll probably be finding dots of red tempera paint all over the kitchen for the next year, and my pants may never be the same, but I figured the world needs more artists, so I might as well start training America’s youth.”

“Thanks for taking care of her for me.”

Fenny shrugged, unsure what to say, and leaned in to take the kiss Brad was offering.

Lilly giggled excitedly at Spongebob’s antics and Fenny and Brad laughed against each other’s lips as there was a knock at the door. “Thank god, I’m starved,” Fenny sighed and Brad jumped up to answer it.

“Oh, hey Ella,” Brad chimed and Fenny instantly decided she wanted to die. She’d completely forgotten about Ella coming to get Lilly, and rather wished she could have been just about anywhere other than where she was. Ella and Brad wandered over to the couch where he lifted Lilly up to hand her to her mother. “Ella, this is Fenny,” Brad announced, smiling lovingly at her.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Ella nodded cheerfully as Fenny reluctantly stood up. “Brad talks about you all the time.”

All Fenny could think of was that this was the woman Brad had spent a drunken night of passion with, and here she was introducing herself in their home. “I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Fenny smiled politely. “You’ve got a wonderful little girl there.”

“I know,” Ella smiled a bit uneasily. “I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“Not too much,” Fenny shrugged. “Um, I hope your father is doing well?”

“Yeah, he’s doing great, thank you. Sorry about dropping her on you like this, I know you had a big night yesterday and you’ve got guests…”

“Oh, it’s no big deal, really,” Fenny said.

“Right, well,” Ella sighed, “I should get going, put Lilly to bed.”

“I’ll help you with your things,” Brad chimed and grabbed Lilly’s bag and playpen.

“Need some help?” Fenny asked out of reflex.

“No, we’re fine, thanks,” Ella smiled, and Fenny opened the door for them. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Fenny smiled and, with a deep exhalation of breath, closed the door behind them.

“The kid gone?” Paul asked as he wandered into the apartment a few minutes later with a bag of sandwiches.

“Yeah, you just missed Ella,” Fenny said from the kitchen where she was hunting a soda out of the refrigerator. “Am I the only person who’s exhausted?”

“I think we all had a rough night last night,” Gina smirked, “and today was pretty busy.”

“Busy, you spent the day spread out on the beach,” Paul scoffed.

“Hey, sunbathing is hard work,” she declared. “Besides, jet lag.”

“I vote after dinner we watch a movie and turn in early,” Fenny said with a yawn.

“She just wants to get Brad into bed,” Paul laughed.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Fenny said coyly.

Gina averted her eyes and opened the refrigerator, looking around for a soda and trying to get that damn pool table out of her mind.

“Oh, hey guys,” Brad perked as he wandered in, “didn’t see you come in.”

Paul shrugged and Gina went to sort out the sandwiches.

“We were just discussing tonight’s plans,” Fenny said, “or the lack thereof. Between babysitting and beach adventures and probably your filming, we’re all pretty tired, thought we’d watch a movie or something and turn in early.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Brad said, wrapping a hand around her waist as they headed for the table to eat. Fenny remembered his invitation to re-enact the previous night’s almost-forgotten romp, and figured tired or not, she would take him up on that.

It was well after ten o’clock the next morning when everyone dragged themselves out of bed, and they sat around for a few hours watching mindless television and engaging in idle conversation.

Brad glanced up at the clock and noticed it was three. “Oh, look at the time,” he announced. “I’m surprised you girls haven’t gone out shopping or something by now.”

Fenny shrugged and leaned her head against his chest. “I don’t have any plans to move,” she smiled.

“Well you should,” Paul advised.

“What? Why?” Gina asked cautiously.

“Paul and I have plans,” Brad announced. “Which means you two need to get out of the house.”

“Plans?” Gina demanded. “What type of plans could you have possibly made?”

“Just plans,” Paul assured her.

“Are there naked women, drugs, or firearms involved?” Fenny demanded.

“Of course not,” Brad chuckled. “Just go out and have a good time.”

“You’re sure you two don’t need a chaperone or something?”

“We’ll be fine,” Paul assured her. “We’re grownups.”

“Yeah, 12-year-old boys in the bodies of 40-year-old men,” Gina teased.

“Please, just go out for a while, until six-ish, we can have some dinner,” Brad pleaded.

“Not until you tell us what’s going on,” Gina demanded.

“It’s a surprise,” Paul said. “Now get out before we throw you out.”

“Please,” Brad added.

“Fine, I’m going,” Fenny laughed. “I’ll go grab my shoes.” She headed for her bedroom and Brad went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

“Aren’t you going?” Paul asked Gina.

“How am I supposed to go shopping? I have no money, remember?”

“I’ll give you some,” Paul chirped and reached for his wallet.

“Oh, Paul, no, stop…”

“Here, take it,” he said, thrusting a wad of green at her. “As my wife, it is your duty to waste my money.”

“Is that what my duty is?” she asked with a smile. She grabbed her purse from the end table and slipped on her boots. “I thought it was to clean up after you and keep you sinfully happy in bed.”

“That too,” he smiled. “Here.”

She reluctantly took the money from him. “Anything you need while I’m out?”

“Just for you to stay out,” he grinned and Fenny entered the room. “Now both of you, get out and don’t come back until six,” Paul ordered.

“Is he always like this?” Fenny asked as she and Gina were bustled bodily out of the apartment.

“Only when he’s up to no good,” Gina mused from the hallway.

Paul let out a wicked chortle and Brad appeared behind him stroking an imaginary goatee as he shut the door on them.

“Well, that was certainly strange,” Fenny announced. They gave the door one last concerned look and headed down the corridor together. “What do you think they’re up to?”

“God only knows,” Gina sighed, “but I’m guessing it’s not gonna be good.”

“So, what do we make?” Paul asked as Brad dropped an armload of cookbooks on the kitchen table.

“Something simple,” Brad said and leafed through a book. “How about a roast, that can’t be too hard.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Paul perked and grabbed a book to search for a recipe for a roast. “I guess we’ll be making a trip to the market?”

“I doubt we’ll find a recipe for something we have all the ingredients for here in the house. You think the girls are suspicious?”

“I don’t think so. What do you think they think we’re up to?”

“Oh, mass orgy, maybe a sacrifice or two,” Brad smiled.

“Goats or virgins?” Paul queried.

“Virgin goats, maybe.”

“Nothing like deflowering a pretty little goat before the slaughter. You have an altar handy?”

“Damn, I knew I forgot something,” Brad chuckled.

“Don’t worry, got one in my suitcase.”

“Good man, always thinking ahead.”

“Oh, look, here’s a recipe,” Paul cooed.

“Terrific,” Brad grinned, reaching for the grocery list. “Gimme the ingredients and we’ll hop off to the store.”

“Welcome to your typical Los Angeles mall,” Fenny announced, arms held wide. “The world of teeny bopper boutiques, overpriced, overstylish clothing no one should ever wear, pretentious shoppers who think they’re all that and the proverbial bag of chips because they’ve got a bag from Nordstrom’s, and obnoxious sales people who work on a commission, twenty dollars extra for each person they poison or blind with perfume as they walk past their counter.”

“Sounds like fun,” Gina smiled. “Where to first?”

“What’re you looking for?”

“A way to spend a few hours while banished from your apartment so that Pauly and Braddles can…do whatever it is they’re going to do.”

“Maybe they’re writing us a song,” Fenny suggested.

“It’s more likely they’re getting pissed and watching the Playboy Channel.”

“With those two, there’s no telling.”

“Just so long as they don’t try to cook again,” Gina said with a dramatic cringe.

“That could be bad,” Fenny agreed.

“There is no god,” Gina announced suddenly, grabbed Fenny’s arm, and pulled her into the next store they came across.

“What’s wrong?” Fenny demanded. “And why are we in Victoria’s Secret?”

“Greg just walked into the bookstore across the way,” Gina hissed.

“He’s gotta be stalking you,” Fenny smiled. “Two places I have problems envisioning Greg are the middle of a mall and on the beach.”

“Don’t let us near each other, please,” Gina said, “I don’t need him turning me to mush again.”

“I don’t blame you,” Fenny grinned. “And besides, there’s no place for you two to have sex for at least a mile and a half.”

“You’re strange,” Gina announced and began fingering some of the bits of lace offered up as lingerie.

“Does this mean we’re trapped here until Greg leaves?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

“Not into the fancy undies, huh?” Gina mused.

“Not really,” Fenny sighed, “although Brad seemed amused with my ‘special occasion’ underwear.”

“You know, I was thinking of buying something for Paul,” Gina said with a small smile. “Maybe there’s a reason we’re in here.”

“Yeah, that’s right, the gods dropped your lover in the mall to get you to buy a teddy for your husband, that makes a whole lot of sense,” Fenny nodded.

“Look at this,” Gina cooed, holding up a deep red nightie of satin and lace. “Matches Brad’s boxers. You should buy it.”

“I’ll have you know Brad likes black silk, thank you.”

“That qualifies as too much information,” Gina laughed.

“How many tablespoons are in a cup?” Paul asked.

“Why?” Brad asked.

“The book says ‘1/4 cup butter’ and the butter’s all marked out in tablespoons.”

“I dunno, did you check the other side?”

“Oh. Right. Ha, there it is.”

“Um, what do we do with the potatoes?”

“What does the book say?”

“It doesn’t,” Brad shrugged. “Do we peel them first?”

“How should I know?”

“I thought maybe you’d paid attention to Gina cooking.”

“She hasn’t cooked for me in ages. What does Fenny do?”

“Doesn’t cook a lot.”

“What does your Mum do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Call her.”

“I’m not calling my mother long distance to ask her whether or not to peel potatoes.”

“Fuck it. Peel the bloody things.”

“Right.”

“You have a ruler?”

“A what?”

“It says there’s supposed to be three inches of liquid in the pot,” Paul explained, “and if there’s not three inches, we’re supposed to add vegetable oil. So, do you have a ruler?”

“I didn’t think cookbooks gave measurements in height.”

“Well this one does.”

“What did you do with the carrots?”

“I chopped them up like you told me to.”

“Well we were supposed to save some for the salad,” Brad whined.

“You should’ve told me that earlier.”

“Crap.”

“Where’s the ruler?”

“I dunno, Fen’s probably got one lying around somewhere.”

“I’ll look then, shall I?”

“Yeah.”

“Found it!”

“Dammit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Dropped the bread,” Brad frowned.

“Butter-side down, right?”

“Yes. You think it’s still safe to eat?”

“It’s on the floor!”

“Yeah, but it’s still in one piece.”

“I’m not eating something that’s been on your fucking kitchen floor, mate, I know what’s gone on there,” Paul hissed.

“What?” Brad asked, confused.

“If you don’t remember, I’m certainly not gonna refresh your memory. Now where’s the oil, there’s only two and a half inches of stuff in the pan.”

“Did you clean off the ruler before you dumped it in there?”

“Fuck.”

“Looks like it’s almost time to head home,” Fenny sighed as she and Gina wandered away from the Orange Julius stand to the middle of the mall where they collapsed on a couch situated under a tree.

“I hope Greg’s not still around,” Gina murmured, glancing about nervously.

“We’ve been here three hours, I doubt Greg’s still around,” Fenny assured her. “Do I look like a pervert wandering around with a bag of kinky lingerie and a bag from a baby boutique?”

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” Gina smiled.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into that…”

“Fenny?”

She whipped around to find Jan standing behind her. “Oh, hey Jan, long time no see,” Fenny chirped. “Oh, this is Gina, a friend of mine from Australia. Jan’s an old friend of mine, from the Hitchhikers.”

“Yeah, hi,” Jan smiled a forced polite little smile, which Gina returned with a confused grin.

“What’re you doing here in LA?” Fenny asked.

“Have a few shows in town this week. So yeah, haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Well, things have been…hectic,” Fenny shrugged.

“I only bring it up because we’ve missed you at Echoes, and you said you’d think about doing some more gigs with us.”

“Yeah, and I told you I’d thought about it and I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea,” Fenny reminded her.

“Oh yes, because of the little scenes you made,” Jan chuckled. “And your dearest Mr. TV Star. I see you’re doing well,” she gestured to the Victoria’s Secret bag.

“Yeah,” Fenny frowned at herself.

“And the new job, working for an LA theatre, better than our shitty little bar, huh?” Jan said with a sarcastic smile.

“Jan,” Fenny began carefully, “it’s not that I don’t love working with you guys, but, y’know, we’d been doing it for ten years and I’ve found something else to do with my life, and I’m sorry if you don’t approve.”

“Oh, I approve of you moving on to real stars instead of us local blokes, that’s fine,” Jan sneered.

“It’s not like that and you know it.”

“I’ll say hi to the fellas for you, huh? You and Brad?”

“Look, I just finished working on a play and Sully’s been riding me to come up there and help him out with something. If I get to town, I’ll drop by, say hi, maybe I’ll do a show with you if I’ve got the time.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impede on your valuable time,” Jan smirked.

“I have to get going,” Fenny announced. “It was nice seeing you again. Tell the fellas hi for me.”

“Oh, I will,” Jan grumbled as Gina and Fenny wandered off.

“That went well,” Gina said sympathetically.

“They haven’t been pleased with me since the Brad/Greg scene. Jan wasn’t even there, she left for like 8 months for her standup gigs, but I’m a terrible person for—never mind, it’s not worth worrying about, let’s just get home, see what the boys have done to themselves.”

“I’m almost afraid to find out,” Gina said with a worried smile.

“It’s burnt.”

“It is not,” Brad countered Paul defiantly. “It’s just a bit…over done. Look, the inside’s nice.”

“Looks a bit squishy.”

“You mean it’s not supposed to be like that?”

“I dunno,” Paul shrugged.

“You’re sure that’s not too much garlic on the bread?”

“It’s garlic bread, it’s supposed to have garlic.”

“Shit, they’re here,” Brad mumbled as he heard the key in the lock. “Go get them, have ‘em close their eyes or something.”

“Right,” Paul agreed and ran over to the door as it opened and he threw himself against it to close it.

“What’s wrong?” Fenny called.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” Gina gasped, incredulous.

“Close your eyes or you’re not getting in.”

“Fine. They’re closed.” Paul opened the door and grabbed each woman by a hand to lead them into the room. “What smells?” Gina asked.

“Please, god, tell me you didn’t cook again,” Fenny grumbled.

“Are we set, Sherwood?” Paul asked.

“I think so,” he smiled.

“Okay, open up.”

Gina and Fenny opened their eyes to find a beautifully set table with all the silverware in the proper places, fresh flowers in the center, candles lit, linen napkins neatly folded…and homemade food.

“Look, guys, this is really, it’s tremendously sweet of you to do this,” Fenny said.

“I can’t believe you tried to cook again,” Gina mumbled as she shook her head.

“But I’m not going to eat this.”

“Potatoes just aren’t that color.”

“The salad doesn’t even look right.”

“The corn looks edible.”

“It’s from a can.”

“Well, so sorry we’re not five-star gourmet chefs,” Brad sulked.

“Dear, you’re not half-star fry cooks,” Fenny said, trying desperately not to laugh.

“So we’ll order a pizza then,” Gina suggested and wandered into the next room to find the phone.

“We spent all fucking day in the kitchen and you’re not even gonna try it?” Paul demanded.

“You try it first,” Gina called from the other room.

“Fine,” Paul said as he and Brad both proudly drew themselves up to their full height. Paul cut into the roast while Brad dished a few potatoes onto his plate. They looked at their food, looked at each other, and decided against it. “Well we tried,” Paul grumbled.

“I think it’s time you found something other than food to use as romantic gestures,” Fenny announced as Gina placed an order with the local pizza joint.

“What do you suggest?” Paul asked.

“Flowers, chocolates, songs, jewelry, stuffed animals, new socks, anything else, just stop cooking, please.”

“Pizza should be here in 20 minutes,” Gina announced. “Let’s see if the four of us can’t get this disaster area cleaned up some.” She stopped to look at Paul’s and Brad’s dejected faces. “Aw, you guys are just too sweet,” she cooed. “Thanks again for the thought.” She threw her arms around Paul’s neck and Fenny wrapped her arms around Brad. “Now, let’s clean before the pizza guy gets here.”

“What a goof,” Brad chuckled at the television as the medical intern slunk back behind the soda machine and the janitor/arch nemesis wandered off.

“I think J.D. is adorable,” Fenny chided and put her plate on the coffee table and leaned back into Brad’s arm while Paul got himself another slice of pizza.

“Me too,” Gina smiled. “I wish we got Scrubs back home.”

“You mean you wish you had J.D. back home,” Fenny smiled.

“Well yeah.”

“But you don’t,” she continued with a wicked laugh, “he’s mine, all mine!”

“Hardly fair,” Gina sulked a moment before giggling.

“You two are always after the same men,” Paul mused with a smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gina demanded as Fenny’s face fell.

“Well, I hear you busted a vein when you found Fen and Proops in bed together,” Paul chuckled.

“What?!” Brad and Gina yelped together, and Fenny dropped her head into her hands.

“You told him about that?” Gina gasped.

“When were you in bed with Greg?” Brad growled.

“It was when you were still with Ritza and I was in LA,” Fenny grumbled.

“It’s not bad enough you try to molest my husband, now you’re telling him about Greg?”

“Why were you molesting Paul?” Brad asked as the tension in the room doubled.

“I was drunk,” Fenny sighed, “it wasn’t my fault.”

“It really wasn’t,” Paul assured Brad. “Nothing happened.”

“What kind of nothing?” Brad asked.

“She kissed me, she mentioned trying to rip off my suit, nothing really.”

“Fen,” Brad gasped.

“I was drunk!”

“You wouldn’t have said those things if you didn’t mean them.”

“Have you ever listened to me talk?” Fenny demanded. “When’s the last time I ever said anything halfway intelligent? You people should know by now not to listen to me when I speak.”

“Every time she opens her mouth she gets someone in trouble,” Gina grumbled.

“Jealous of her romp with Greg, huh?” Paul teased.

“Leave me alone,” she said.

“Yeah, what’s with you having sex with Greg when we were trying to get back together?” Brad asked.

“You have no right to say anything about that, you were fucking Ritza at the time. And I don’t care what you think about Greg, you need to get off your damn high horse, fucking Greg is a hell of a lot better than fucking a maniac who then decided that I should die.”

“Why would you bring that up?” Gina asked, poking at Paul. “You should’ve known you’d stir up trouble.”

“I just assumed if she called him up to tell him she fucked a surfie in Oz that he knew about Greg,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, you keep fucking people,” Brad groused, “what about the surfer?”

“This coming from a man who made his fiancée, girlfriend, whatever the hell I am, babysit for his illegitimate child!”

“You were in Australia at the time!”

“That’s beside the bloody point.”

“Yeah, well I nearly fucked Gina on the washing machine today,” Brad declared spitefully.

“What?” Paul yelped as Gina pondered crawling under the table and Fenny’s jaw dropped.

“I was the one she’s having the dreams about, we spent last night talking about them, and I came this close,” he said, holding his fingers half an inch apart, “to tearing off her clothes and fucking the shit out of her on the washing machine today when you two were out, and she would’ve let me,” he announced.

All eyes turned to Gina. “I got caught up in the moment,” she said after a moment. “I wouldn’t have done anything. I don’t think—”

Fenny tripped over the coffee table in her hurry to get away, stormed out of the room and slammed the bedroom door shut.

“Thanks a lot, Paul,” Brad cussed.

“You’re the one who wants to fuck my wife!”

“She’s the one with the dreams.”

“Like that’s any fault of mine,” Gina defended.

“No one would’ve known if you hadn’t brought up Greg,” Brad huffed.

“If you’d just forget about what happened in the past, the two of you could be happy for a change,” Paul hissed. “Who cares if she screwed Proops. Who cares if anyone did. I thought we’d gotten over that, which is why I thought it was funny.”

“Fucking hilarious,” Brad barked.

“Yeah, as hilarious as you and Gina going at it in the laundry room,” Paul grumbled.

“I’m leaving,” Brad declared and stormed out of the apartment.

“Were you really gonna have sex with him?” Paul asked, trying not to get angry.

“It was some harmless flirting,” she sighed. “Granted it got a bit out of hand…”

“Well it shouldn’t have gotten out of hand,” Paul frowned and skulked into their bedroom.

“I fucking hate life,” Gina announced and lay back on the couch.