Gina looked up at the sound of Danny clearing his throat. “Look, about the airport—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gina assured him as she pulled away from Paul enough to address the others, but still holding onto him. “If Amy hadn’t gotten me in the bathroom, she probably would’ve hijacked the plane to get all three of us, then we’d have had to rely on Paul and Fen to rescue us.”

“And then we’d probably all end up in shallow graves after being beaten into putty by psychotics,” Fenny agreed. “No offense,” she added hastily, glancing in the direction of Otto, who was more interested in his beer than in them. They moved towards the table they’d adopted which Troy was keeping watch over, and Danny pulled over a chair for Gina. Not that she necessarily needed it, as she all but crawled into Paul’s lap as they sat together, holding hands under the table like teenagers, both looking so relieved to be together again.

“Speaking of which,” Gina piped up, “what happened to Beven and Ritza, I thought they’d have come with you.”

“They stayed behind in England to deal with Claudia,” Brad shrugged, indicating he didn’t think that was the best of plans.

“Shame,” Gina mused, “would’ve saved effort if Claudia had followed us here, Amy wanted to off her, could’ve saved us some trouble.”

“It would be good if they’d off each other, wouldn’t it,” Greg mused. “No offense,” he said, mimicking Fenny and glancing warily over at Otto.

“I thought Amy and Claudia were just out to kill us to avenge Don’s death because they were both obsessed with the man?” Brad asked, suddenly confused and wishing he’d been a bit less hungover and traumatized when Beven had explained their current situation.

“Otto said Amy hated Don, she’s the one who killed him, she’s really trying to get to Claudia.”

“But Amy said all sort of shit about Don, and she didn’t say anything when I said that one of us killed him,” Greg pointed out.

“The woman’s clearly mad,” Paul shrugged.

“This is so uncool,” Fenny pouted.

“So then what’s the plan, what do we do?” Danny asked, suddenly a bit nervous.

“We get me something to eat, I’m starved,” Gina perked.

The group of weary travelers/victims spent the next hour or so catching up some of the more interesting aspects of their journeys and tribulations, including a quite probably overly vivid — at Greg’s request — description of Paul’s adventures in McDermott’s strip club, a reenactment of Brad’s adventures in the motorbike sidecar, and Gina’s rather sad tale of meeting Wazza, all the while acutely aware they were under the watchful eye of Otto, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. Greg was halfway through the gory details of his night spent sharing a bed with Gina and Danny when Otto sauntered over to the table.

“You’re right, your husband is insane,” he announced. “You didn’t tell me he carries the mongoose around with him.”

“Is there something we can do for you, Mr. Otto sir?” Danny asked.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna get myself a room and I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Uh, what?” Brad asked, blinking at Otto.

“What about Amy?” Danny asked.

“Is that a ‘I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll plot nasty things to do to the people who want to kill you’ or a ‘I’ll see you in the morning when I sneak into your rooms to shoot you in the head’?” Greg asked.

“Hey, I’m a paid assassin, that doesn’t mean I’m heartless,” Otto smirked. “Besides, I don’t want to go back to listening to Amy whine any more than you guys do. If you wanna stick around, I thought we could discuss how to get you out of this mess in the morning.”

“Really?” Fenny blurted out, then blushed a bit.

“Well sure, I mean it’s not you guys Amy’s got the beef with, she’s gotta be chasing you guys around for fun. Call it sibling rivalry, but I feel obligated to mess with her, y’know?”

“And you thought your family was strange,” Brad muttered to Fenny.

“And Amy’s not going to come looking for you?” Danny asked. “Or us?”

“She wouldn’t know where to begin,” Otto shrugged. “So, we’ll meet for breakfast, huh?”

“Sure,” Paul agreed for all of them, and they nodded as Otto retreated towards the bar where he chatted with the proprietor of the pub and received a key. They watched as he went up a flight of stairs and disappeared from view.

“That was strange,” Danny declared.

“Can he be trusted?” Brad asked.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” Paul countered. “We trust him and he helps us out, like Beven —”

“And Gemma,” Brad mused. Fenny, without thinking, turned to him sharply. “Later,” he soothed.

“Or,” Paul continued, “we don’t trust him, we run away, they find us and kill us anyway. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need at least one good night’s sleep in an actual bed with my actual wife before I can think about another daring escape.”

“We’re getting too old for this shit,” Greg agreed.

“Speak for yourself old man,” Danny teased.

“We should probably call Beven now that we’ve found Gina, right?” Brad piped up, grabbing Fenny’s phone from the table. He cocked his head in an attempt to read the number on Fenny’s hand, but she was fiddling with her fingers, twisting her wedding ring, and he had to grab her wrist to keep her still long enough to dial, shooting her an apologetic look as she looked at him a bit strangely.

As the phone began to ring, he pushed away from the table and wandered towards a window, and wasn’t surprised to be directed to a voice mail system. “Hey Beven. We’re in Coober Peedy, with Gina even. This big guy called Otto who’s evidently Amy’s brother brought her over, we’re not too sure what to think about him, he’s offering to help us deal with Amy, but he’s kinda creepy, but Gina thinks he’s alright. All of us are gonna stay the night in this pub we’ve found and ‘talk’ over breakfast. Just thought I’d let you know in case, y’know, we turn up dead or something, you’ll know why. I hope you and Ritz are doing ok. See you soon, hopefully.”

With a sigh, Brad ended the call and sauntered back to the table just as Paul wandered back from organizing himself a room. “We’re gonna turn in,” Gina announced as Paul nodded, trying to hold back a yawn.

“Night,” Fenny smiled.

“Sleep tight,” Danny added.

“Don’t let the heavies blow off your head,” Greg chirped with a friendly wave.

They watched as the couple headed up the stairs, arms wrapped tightly around each other. “We should probably head up too,” Brad sighed, “but I’m still too worked up to sleep.”

“I could do with another game of pool, to calm my nerves,” Fenny shrugged. “Anyone up for it?”

“I’ll play, as long as Paul and his stupid rules about pant dropping are nowhere in sight,” Greg perked.

“I’ll play winner,” Danny agreed readily.

“Twenty bucks on Fen,” Brad smiled.

“I have to ask,” Gina said as they worked at finding their room in the dim hallway, “what’s with the tree hugger getup?”

“Has something to do with the guys pretending they were doctors once, I’m not entirely sure. We got Dan to flirt with a woman at an information desk and convince her we were out to save the local bilby population,” Paul smiled.

“I like it. ‘Save the Platypus’ indeed.” She found the room and unlocked the door.

“I think Fen went a bit too far with the plaits though,” Paul said, falling gratefully onto the bed. As Gina carefully locked the door, he worked at getting his boots off. She joined him on the bed and cuddled close to him.

“Speaking of Fen, she says she’s been worried about you and your moods?”

Paul shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s nothing,” he soothed.

“Is it?” she countered, reaching up to stroke his hair as he rubbed her back. “Fen sounded worried, and from the sound of things, you’ve been acting a bit strange lately?”

“That’s what happens when your wife is kidnapped and you find yourself constantly having to face not only your own mortality but the mortality of the people you love as well.” He turned his head to find Gina looking at him pointedly, and he sighed. “Holly died,” he breathed softly.

Gina dropped a kiss on his cheek and held him closer. Holly, the daughter of Paul’s long time friend and often producer Ted Robinson, had been battling cancer and had died a few weeks ago. She and Paul had been close, and it was obvious he was more devastated than he’d let on.

“It’s just, it’s weird you know,” he said suddenly, his voice wavering, “I’ve done a lot of really stupid things in my life, I can’t count how many times I probably should have died, and Holly never did anything to anyone, but she’s the one that had to get sick. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” she soothed, not knowing what she could say, and he was quiet for a few moments.

“You should have been at the funeral.”

“I was,” Gina mused. “It was beautiful.”

“You were?” he gasped, turning slightly teary eyes to her. “Why didn’t you say anything, do something?”

“I wanted to. It took every bit of self-restraint not to find you and hold you and everything else, but I figured you left because you needed space, and I didn’t want to intrude…”

“I needed you then,” he breathed.

“You could have come home.”

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but you’re a sweet idiot and I love you.”

“I was so afraid I was going to lose you,” Paul murmured, squeezing her as he leaned down to kiss her. She twitched a bit in his embrace and made a strange noise in her throat, and he pulled away anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, they decided to beat up on me this time since they couldn’t get hold of you. My ribs are kinda sore.” He lifted up her shirt a bit and winced a bit at the sickly purple and green bruise.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

“Be gentle?” she cooed with a cheeky smile. He placed a feathery kiss against her battered flesh, then trailed a few kisses towards her stomach, making her giggle. He moved to the hand she was using to hold up her shirt, and kissed each finger in turn, before stopping short and staring at her hand.

“Genie?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s your ring?”

Gina’s mood dropped. “Amy took it.”

“The bitch,” he hissed.

“She also took my necklace, the one from Paris.”

“I’ll kill her.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll get it back. We’ve always been able to get whatever we need from kidnappers and heavies. We’ll get them back,” she assured him, moving her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving to kiss her. “Where were we?”

“I believe we were being disgustingly happy and making up for lost time.”

“You mean making out like teenagers.”

“Exactly,” Gina cooed, pulling him into a deep kiss.

After saying a sleepy goodnight to the boys, Fenny wandered up the stairs to her room, pausing briefly to see if she could hear any signs from Gina and Paul or Otto so she could determine where their rooms were, but things were eerily quiet.

She found her room and slipped the key in the lock, only to find it wouldn’t turn. “For god’s sake,” she grumbled, “this is so not what I need right now.” She gave it a harsh wrench, but only managed to bash her knee against the doorjamb and hit herself in the face with one of her pigtails.

“Need some help?”

She jumped at the voice from the end of the hall, and spun to face Brad. “The lock won’t give,” she announced.

“Let me try.” He took the key from her, pushed it into the lock and gave it a couple wiggles. After a few moments he shoved his shoulder into the door and it popped open.

“Oh, thanks,” she smiled. “You might have to come rescue me for breakfast if it’s going to keep sticking like that.”

“Not a problem. It’ll keep Otto out at any rate.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, uh, thanks for helping me win forty bucks off the guys,” Brad said with a nervous grin.

“Probably should’ve warned ‘em that I took physics and four years of AP math in high school. Only thing geometry was ever good for was playing pool.”

“I took geometry and it never did me any good,” Brad shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” Fenny shrugged. “What’s happened to Greg and Danny?”

“They’re downstairs finishing their drinks.”

“Right.”

“Yeah. So, goodnight then.”

“See you in the morning.” She smiled at him as he headed back up the hall to his room, and closed the door. As soon as she managed to kick off her hiking boots and get one braid undone, there was a knock at the door. She warily unlocked it and wrenched it open, staggering a bit, and was caught completely off guard by Brad swooping her into his arms and pressing her against the nearest wall, his body as close to hers as he could get it while still bending to kiss her. It was a desperate, probing kiss that Fenny eagerly returned as she grabbed onto him, feeling suddenly lightheaded. He kicked the door closed, trying to be suave, but he had to give it an extra nudge while not relinquishing Fenny’s lips. Eventually he gave up and released her to close the door firmly.

“I love you Brad,” Fenny finally managed to say quickly and breathily, and as he turned back to her she reached up to kiss his neck. “And I know it’s stupid for me to say because I always apologize and then do something stupid again anyway,” she said between kisses, “but I really am sorry for everything and I understand why you left —” She let out a gasp as Brad’s fingers moved under her shirt. “— but I don’t know if I can —”

Fenny was silenced by a rather intense kiss, and when Brad pulled back, she blinked at him, her rambling completely forgotten. “I’m sorry about the way we handled things, and about Bess,” he breathed and slipped the glasses from her face, setting them on the bedside table.

“So do we call it even?” she asked as Brad ignored all but the top two buttons of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

“Start over for the, oh, forth or fifth time?” he asked, pulling off his boots.

“Fifth time’s the charm,” she smiled as she tried to get out of her pants.

“Is it?” Brad pulled his top off, but got the polo neck stuck around his neck and ended up staggering in an awkward circle as he attempted to get it off.

“Well something has to be, doesn’t it?” Fenny stepped out of her moleskin pants but as she tried to pull out her second foot while undoing her last braid, she tripped over the moleskins and ended up careening into the closet, bashing her tailbone against the wall with a stifled “Ow” and sending wire hangers flying just as Brad got his head dislodged. Stepping out of his pants, he hurried over to Fenny with only a slight stumble over her discarded shoes and helped her out of the closet.

He swept her into his arms and carried her towards the bed, managed to take two steps, and tripped over a hanger, dropping her on the bed and falling on top of her, both giggling all the while. “Mmm, rescue mission makeup sex, my favorite,” Brad mused, nuzzling Fenny’s neck.

“Mine too,” she purred, pushing him onto his back and crawling over him.

“Paul left the mongoose,” Greg announced, glaring at the stuffed creature over the rim of his nearly empty glass.

“I can’t believe Fenny beat me,” Danny pouted as he wiped the condensation off his beer mug with his thumb.

“She left her phone,” Greg shrugged, picking it up and turning it around in his hands.

“So what do you think about Otto?”

“I think we’ll all be dead before morning.”

“Thank you for the encouraging words, Mr. Proops,” Danny grumbled.

“Hey, it might not be so bad.”

“What, getting shot might be fun?”

“Can’t be too much worse than having to explain things to my wife.”

“Does she know about the kidnappings and everything before?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We discussed it in therapy. One therapist thinks it’s a metaphor, she thinks I’m lying to cover up something, probably kinky romps with Gina in a showgirl outfit.”

“There’s an interesting image,” Danny mused.

“Well Dan my man, I think we should probably head to bed, rest up for the shootings.”

“Who’s gonna take Troy?”

“You can babysit, I’ll look after Fenny’s phone.”

They finished their drinks, stood from the table, and headed for their rooms, Greg fingering the cell phone, Danny cradling the mongoose. “Dragged across the country, frozen, nearly killed by McDermott in England, gonna get shot by a heavy, and I have to mongoose-sit, probably while listening to Gina and Fenny have sex.”

“What, with each other?” Greg chuckled.

“Y’know, that I don’t think I would mind.”

“Night Brannigan,” Greg chirped as he disappeared into his room.

“Yeah, night.”

Greg glared at the phone in his lap and decided that he really had to call home and explain things to his wife. He had way too much on his mind and trying to prevent his wife from killing him was the easiest to deal with, and would leave his mind open to think about the fact that if he wasn’t killed by Otto, Amy or Paul, he’d be able to get home to his beautiful wife. And probably be killed by her and her rabid auntie.

He reluctantly dialed and waited anxiously for her to pick up, until the answering machine clicked on, the sound of his own recorded voice startling him.

“Shit, I forgot about the time difference. You’re probably asleep. Or at Aunt Jean’s plotting my death, or filing for divorce,” he grumbled, then decided to start over. “Look Pumpkin, I know you’re wondering where the hell I am, and the thing is, you see, remember how we discussed the kidnapping thing in therapy? I know the therapist said that it’s all a smokescreen for my infidelities, but I really was kidnapped and taken to Australia. But nowhere near Gina! Nope, don’t know where she’s gotten to, haven’t seen her in ages, I’m not even in the right State to run into her ‘cause she’s in Sydney and I’m…not. Yeah. But don’t worry, I’m okay, there was this whole ‘fire in the hotel’ thing so I got to escape, and I’m gonna get home as soon as I can. Love you pookie, send my regards to Aunt Jean.”

With a sigh, Greg turned off the phone and set it on the table. He did feel a bit lighter now that he’d explained himself to his wife, even with the slight lie about Gina’s presence. He decided he may as well rest up for the trauma of the morning, and curled up in bed, letting the alcohol coursing through him aid in getting to sleep.

Danny lay in bed and stared a bit miserably at the ceiling of his room, picking patterns out of the maze of cracks in the chipping paint. He tried convincing himself of happy thoughts so he could get to sleep. Otto would help them get rid of Amy and not slit his throat in the middle of the night. The squeaking of springs in the next room wasn’t Fenny and Brad boffing themselves stupid, it was Greg having a nightmare about being eaten by octopi. They were going to get through this and live happily ever after, a fairytale ending. He rolled over in bed and stared at Troy, who had taken up residence on the other pillow. “Who am I kidding, there’s no such thing as a fairytale ending, and even if there was, no one who talks to a stuffed mongoose is ever going to get one.”