"So you do want to turn that national park into a radioactive waste dump then? Hello? Mr Hill, Mr Hill…" Gina looked angrily at the phone and then dropped it back into its cradle. "Bastard."
          "Problems?" Danny asked, his attention not wavering from the article he was typing up.
          "No, just the environment minister avoiding the important questions," Gina shrugged.
          "He hung up on you again?"
          "Yeah, fifth time this week."
          "Are you going to try again?"
          "Nah, I'll just say the minister refused to answers questions relating to the issue."
          "Probably the best move," Danny agreed. "Hey, do you have any contacts in the shipping industry?"
          "Hmm let me think," Gina pondered. "I know the guy that runs the cross harbour ferry."
          "That's not even remotely funny," Danny groused as his phone rang and he gave the plastic contraption daggers.
          Gina giggled and turned back to finish the last paragraph of her article. She'd just gotten her fingers to the keys when a small cough broke her concentration.
          "Gina Coleman?" a young cadet announced, looking terrified.
          "Yeah," Gina asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
          "Um, Amanda wants to see you."
          "Well she'll have to wait."
          "She said it won't wait."
          "Well tell her I've just got a paragraph to go and I'll be there."
          "And she said she'll expose that story you told her about a well known television personality and the chocolate sauce to the nation if you don't go right away."
          Gina let out a huff; Amanda was a fabulous friend but sometimes she could be downright spiteful. "Fine, I'm going, you may go back to your photocopying now munchkin."
          "I was researching actually," the cadet declared matter-of-factly.
          "Congratulations," Gina groused. "Now shoo," she added and headed out of the room and down the corridor to Amanda's office.

          "Did you scan that? Did you? Oh don't snivel," Amanda scorned as she berated one of the younger entertainment journalists who had poorly tried to scan the cover of a CD. "Go and ask Ben to do it," she added and the journalist scurried out as Gina sauntered in.
          "Was he crying?" she asked, sitting herself in a padded chair.
          "Yeah, wasn't it funny," Amanda mused. "You got my message then?"
          "You mean the pale, panicking cadet?"
          "She's very easily led."
          "I noticed," Gina nodded. "So what was so urgent you had to drag me away from almost getting on top of my workload?"
          "ARIA nominations," Amanda grinned. "I got them early, they're not due out until the end of the week."
          "Right and this involves me why?" Gina asked as Amanda hunted out the media release.
          "I just thought you might be interested," Amanda smiled as she grabbed a pink highlighter pen, highlighted something and then passed the list to Gina. Gina scanned down the list to the freshly drawn pink line and felt a smile creep onto her lips. Paul had been nominated for an ARIA for the Good News Week CD and she felt a sudden rush of pride.
          "Oh my god!" Gina gasped.
          "Thought you might like to be the one to tell him," Amanda perked.
          "Well I'm hardly going to keep it a secret," Gina smiled. "My boyfriend is up for an ARIA. That's a phrase I never expected to say in my life."
          "And yet it rolls off your tongue so easily," Amanda teased. "Oh and to think you'll get to dress up and go to the awards with him."
          "No, that's a terrible idea," Gina grimaced. "Surely he'd be better off alone. I mean that whole television thing is his thing isn't it?"
          "I'll make you report back on it for me," Amanda sneered. "Then you'll have to go."
          "God you shit me," Gina announced only being half serious. "I was on an emotional plateau and then I was elated and now I'm bloody petrified."
          "I know but playing with your emotions is such a wonderful past time," Amanda chided.
          Gina got to her feet and jokingly gave Amanda as nasty a look as she could muster. "I'm going back to my article. Go pick on some more youngens ya sadist."
          "You'll interview Natalie Imbruglia for me won't you?" Amanda called as Gina made her way out of the office.

          It was late afternoon when Gina got home. She wasn't surprised to find the place deserted as both she and Paul had been so busy recently they'd barely seem each other in daylight hours. After dropping her bag in the hallway and kicking off her shoes, Gina went straight into the kitchen to switch the kettle on. She was surprised to fine a post-it stuck to the side reading: I'm currently out of order and should you attempt to use me I will spurt boiling water in your face, sorry, the kettle.
          "Well, that's a unique way to tell me you broke the kettle babe," Gina sighed and decided that she'd boil some water on the stove instead. She grabbed a small pan, filled it with enough water for a cup of tea and set it on the stove to boil before grabbing the tin she kept the teabags in. Gina giggled as she was greeted by another post-it: Stop, go back, you are going the wrong way, there are no tea bags here. Put the tin down and back away slowly.
          "Fine, I'll have Milo," Gina sighed grabbing the Milo tin and dropping two teaspoons of the chocolaty drink into her mug. "Now I need the sugar. Where are you sugar…" her voice trailed off as she pulled off another post-it: I have been nominated by the other condiments to tell you that you should use less of me as otherwise you'll clog your arteries, have a heart attack and die on the toilet like Elvis.
          Gina pondered the note a moment before grinning inanely and heading over to the fridge. She opened the door and as she expected, found a post-it on the milk carton: Any idea how you milk a soy bean? Gina started to laugh and closed the fridge which she noticed had yet another post-it on it.
          I'll pick something up for dinner on my way home, so if you've started making something put the knife down and go and watch television. Love and evil thoughts toward the broken kettle, Paul.
          She giggled at both his stupidity and sheer adorable nature and then quickly pulled herself away from gushing long enough to sift through her mail. After finding nothing more exciting than her phone bill Gina decided that the early evening was too nice to stay cooped up in her apartment. She changed into a pair of stretch pants, t-shirt and sneakers, tied her hair back and headed off on a short walk to work off some of her budding excitement and intense happiness.

          Paul had been in two minds about going to Gina's, but decided that, although he was exhausted, life was infinitely more pleasurable when he could be exhausted in her presence. He unlocked the door and wandered through the apartment idly. There were signs she'd been home but Paul was still surprised to find she wasn't. He thought about making himself a cuppa but then remembered the kettle was broken. That train of thought followed onto the fact he had planned to pick up a new one, along with more tea and of course dinner. He surmised that it wasn't all that important in the long run and was about to order a pizza when the front door was slammed shut.
          "Genie that you?" he called and pondered for a moment who else it could actually be.
          "Course it's me," Gina perked, sauntering into the room. She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water which she gulped down.
          "What's this?" Paul asked, motioning to her exercise get up.
          "I went for a walk," Gina shrugged as she placed the bottle on the breakfast bar.
          "Why?"
          "I felt like it."
          "You never exercise," Paul pouted. "What brought on the sudden need."
          "I'm overexcited," Gina shrugged and sat herself on the breakfast bar. "I used to walk all the time before I met you and while all the sex is doing wonders for my stomach muscles I felt some fresh air was in order."
          "We can take to doing it in open spaces," Paul mused. "Why are you excited?"
          "Oh." Gina beamed, her eyes going wide. "Come here," she cooed, motioning for him to join her. Paul looked at her curiously and slowly stepped toward her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms lazily over his shoulders.
          "I'm liking this already," Paul grinned, his hands taking the opportunity to slip onto her thighs.
          "I was given some inside information toady," Gina began.
          "About what?" Paul asked amused.
          "About the ARIAs."
          "Oh me too."
          "Oh, really?" Gina's face fell dejectedly. "What did you hear."
          "That I'm hosting them again."
          "Is that all?"
          "Yeah, why? Have you heard something else?"
          "No, well yes, but not about the hosting," Gina shrugged. "Amanda's contacts obviously aren't that great which is really very surprising I mean she usually knows these things before…"
          "Genie!"
          "Yeah?"
          "Are you going to tell me why the ARIAs have excited you?"
          "Oh yeah," Gina grinned. "You're nominated, for best comedy album."
          "Really?" Paul gasped with a devious smile on his face. "Who am I up against."
          "I can't remember, oh John Saffron was one of them."
          "Ah he's a dead shit anyway," Paul chided, disentangling himself from her legs and leaning against the fridge. Gina grabbed her water bottle again and took several gulps as she watched him turn pensive for a moment.
          "What are you doing?"
          "Plotting my winning speech," Paul declared with a devious glint in his eye and then broke out into a chorus of "I'm gonna win an ARIA, I'm gonna win an ARIA."
          "So where's dinner?" Gina piped up as Paul danced to imaginary music as he sang. "Pauly?"
          "Hey?" he asked, still dancing.
          "Dinner? You said you were gonna bring it home?"
          "Shit, yeah, I was about to order a pizza," Paul nodded as he danced over to the phone still singing "I'm gonna win an ARIA," under his breath.
          "I don't want pizza," Gina groused as Paul started dialing the number.
          "Why? You're not on a health kick or something are you?" Paul asked, stopping his dialling and frowning at her.
          "Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen," Gina chided and slid off the breakfast bar. She took the phone from his hand and placed it on the sideboard before wrapping her arms around his neck. "I was thinking we should go out and celebrate."
          "Go out," Paul breathed and pondered a moment as his hands crept around her waist. "I really can't be bothered. What's wrong with pizza and a movie?"
          "What's wrong with dinner at a nice restaurant?" Gina countered.
          "What's wrong with staying home?" Paul chided, narrowing his eyes. "We can make out on the couch?" he added and pulled her close to him. Gina let out a few giggles as he nipped at her neck.
          "I think we're a strange influence on each other," she laughed.
          "Why?" Paul asked, continuing his onslaught on her neck.
          "Isn't it obvious?"
          Paul lifted his head and looked at her blankly. "No."
          "You wanting to stay home and me wanting to go out? We've had a complete role reversal," Gina perked.
          "I never thought of it that way," Paul mumbled, biting his bottom lip. "You're right, we should go out for dinner, maybe go dancing or something after," he added, letting her go and heading for the door.
          "I feel I should be offended by that reaction," Gina mused.
          Paul stopped and gave her a wry smile before breaking out into "I'm gonna win an ARIA," and dancing out the door.

          The small, dimly lit restaurant was doing nothing to quell Paul's desire to fall asleep. The stuffy air created from the warm breaths of the other patrons and piping hot meals along with the candles in the centre of the table were close to lulling him to sleep.
          "Your dessert's getting cold," Gina declared, noticing her boyfriend was looking decidedly drowsy.
          "Huh? Oh," Paul stopped to stifle a yawn and then went back to devouring his chocolate pudding.
          "You really are worn out aren't you?" Gina soothed, pausing to take a sip of her glass of water.
          "I've had a long day all right?" Paul huffed. "Not helped by the five million times I had to rehearse being chased by Kate Fischer."
          "Aw, it's ok hon," Gina cooed. "You're just getting old."
          "Mmm," Paul murmured. "I'll be hunched over sporting a poo bag before you know it."
          "Yeah, thanks for that image," Gina winced, looking slightly disgusted at her pudding. She averted her attention instead to glance around the room and see what other customers were doing. There was an older couple digging into rather large bowls of trifle while a young couple were unashamedly feeding and groping each other. A few tables away there were two women who were chatting animatedly – they excitedly took peeks in what Gina discovered was her direction and then giggled.
          "I'm full as a fart," Paul sighed, pushing his bowl away and taking a sip of his wine.
          "I think you've been recognised," Gina breathed.
          "Really? By who?" Paul asked, looking less than thrilled with the idea.
          "A couple of women over there," Gina declared, motioning with her head.
          "Where?" Paul scorned and took a very obvious look in the women's direction.
          "Oh no, don't look," Gina squeaked, grabbing his arm and making him turn back. "Great, now they're coming over," she groused as the two women got up from their table and started walking towards them.
          Paul winced into his glass and then quickly downed its contents as the two women appeared at the side of the table. They were probably in their early 20s and Gina noted were wearing clothes so tight it was hard to work out how they actually managed to breathe and why they were in a restaurant anyway as they obviously didn't eat.
          "Um, you're him right?" piped up one, half giggling.
          "Him who?" Paul asked, raising an eyebrow,
          "Oh my god it is!" gasped the other one, talking to her friend as if neither Paul nor Gina could hear her.
          "I just, I have to tell you that I so totally love you," enthused the first one. "I think you've got a beautiful voice."
          "You know no one has ever said that to me before," Paul mused with enough conviction that Gina was almost convinced. The conversation continued for a while with the girls babbling on to Paul about how wonderful he was, how they loved him, thought he was sexy, if DAAS were ever going to reunite and copious other things Gina chose to ignore while finishing her pudding. It was 20 minutes and a couple of autographs later that they left and Paul turned back to Gina, letting the smile he'd manage to keep up fall.
          "Nice of those two to say hello," she sighed.
          "Ah, they're just kids," Paul breathed.
          "Freaky, obsessive kids," Gina countered.
          "So long as they don't stalk me I don't care," Paul shrugged. "Shall we go? I have no desire to run into any more fanatics."
          "You and me both," Gina nodded as Paul motioned for the waiter. They paid the bill and headed back into the street, Gina still not sure if she was annoyed or intrigued by Paul fans.
          "Do they freak you out?" she asked, wrapping her arm around his back as they headed toward the car park.
          "Who?" Paul asked, sliding his arm around her shoulders.
          "Your fans."
          "Some of them," he nodded. "The really obsessive ones are a bit scary. They know more about what you've done than you do. They'll ask you questions about things you've never thought of and hang onto things that just aren't important anymore."
          "Some of it's endearing though right?"
          "Yeah, it's nice that people care so much about someone like me but it's also slightly alarming at the lengths they'll go to."
          "Like dedicating websites to you, carrying around DAAS merchandise and wailing at you to sing every half a second," Gina mused as she unlocked her car.
          "Babe you have no idea," Paul smiled as he slid into the car. "But yeah, some of it’s a bit over the top. They've gotta let go of the DAAS thing."
          "You know what the freakiest thing is," Gina smirked. "Those two girls have probably imagined doing all sorts of nasty things to you. In fact, they were probably imagining marrying you and having your children as they stood there babbling."
          "Speaking from experience huh?" Paul teased as he fastened his seatbelt.
          Gina turned the key in the ignition and the engine fired up. "Don't be ridiculous," she laughed. "They'll only be able to see the televised highlights of your ARIA win. I actually get to be there for the celebratory sex."
          "I haven't won yet," Paul mused, leaning his head against the window sleepily.
          "Either way we'll be pleasuring each other to dawn," Gina shrugged and took off out of the car park.
          "It's a win/win situation really," Paul agreed and closed his eyes, a grin still spread across his face as Gina drove home.

          The loud buzzing of the alarm woke both Gina and Paul the next morning. Gina sleepily turned it off and discovered that sometime during the night she'd ended up on her stomach. She moved her head across the pillow she could look at Paul who was on his side with his eyes half open.
          "Good morning," he croaked with a tired smile.
          "Morning," Gina replied, trying to find the energy to lift her head.
          "You know, the longer we're together the more clothes we wear to bed," Paul mused, noting she was in her pyjamas and he was in boxers and a t-shirt. "I think we're becoming incredibly comfortable around each other."
          "Still doesn't mean I want to hear your orchestral bodily functions during the night," Gina declared.
          "See, even my flatulence is music to your ears," Paul chided. "And it's great we can be that comfortable around each other because now I know you fart and snore too. It proves you really are human and not like an alien or something."
          "I do not snore."
          "But you fart."
          "Shut up."
          "You think my body is an orchestra, my god, it's like a symphony of rectal gas beneath the sheets in this bed."
          "I hate you," Gina giggled into her pillow.
          "It makes you wonder how comfortable you can actually get with someone," Paul continued enthusiastically. "I mean what next? Sharing the bathroom?"
          "I'd get stage fright," Gina mumbled into the tontine. "Wouldn't you?"
          Paul, who'd rolled onto his back, looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "What you've got to understand Genie is men don't actually have any shame in that department. We learn to overcome any embarrassment at our bodily functions at an early age."
          "You mean you get drunk and have pissing competitions."
          "Women don't do that?" Paul asked inquisitively.
          "You know I don't think it’s high on our agenda, besides it'd take skill and practise to actually successfully urinate upward."
          "How do women do that?" Paul perked, half in thought.
          "I've no idea," Gina breathed. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
          "It's kinda educational," Paul shrugged. "Maybe I need a closer look at the female anatomy to get a better idea," he added with a devious grin.
          "Well you'll have to hunt out a book on the human body as I have work to go to," Gina declared, sitting up and throwing the covers back.
          "You always leave during the good conversations," Paul pouted.
          "If this is a good conversation I'd hate to see a bad one," Gina winced as Paul reluctantly sat up.
          "The bad ones involve marriage, kids, abstinence and my mother," he declared astutely.
          "And the good ones?"
          "Well, if I'm honest I've always believed actions speak louder than words."
          "What kind of actions?" Gina queried, a faint smile on her lips.
          "This is a good one," Paul breathed and kissed her gently. "And this," he added and brought his lips to hers again more hungrily.
          "And what's that action saying?" Gina asked breathlessly.
          "That morning sex makes the rest of the day slightly less painful," Paul replied without hesitation and then wondered if he shouldn't have been quite so blunt.
          "Oh," Gina said blankly. "What's this saying then?" she added, nibbling at his neck as her fingers slid under his t-shirt and stoked the warm skin it concealed.
          "I think it says I'm a very lucky man," he breathed as her nibbling turned to kisses and she trailed them all the way to his lips.

          Gina hurried into the office looking constantly at her watch, she was so entranced in her time of arrival that she smacked into several journalists as she stepped out of the elevator. As she headed to her desk she caught sight of Danny who gave her a knowing look.
          "I missed the meeting huh?" she winced.
          "You know you missed it Gina," Danny sighed. "This is the third time this week, Max isn't impressed."
          "I meant to be here on time, I did," Gina pouted. "But then morning sex became an option and it was ultimately more appealing."
          "Well at least one of us is getting some," Danny sighed, not really needing the mental image. "I'll fill you in but first Amanda wants you."
          "When doesn't she," Gina sighed as she handed all her things to Danny and then headed off to Amanda's office. For once Amanda wasn't berating cadet journalists and was flicking through a bunch of media releases.
          "Morning Gina," Amanda perked without looking up from what she was doing.
          "Morning," Gina mused, not bothering to sit and picking up a CD from Amanda's desk to look at instead.
          "I've got a job for you honey."
          "He hasn't asked me to go yet, so the Natalie Imbruglia thing…"
          "Huh? Oh no, this has nothing to do with Ms Imbruglia," Amanda perked, finally looking at Gina. "Be a darling and interview that man of yours for me, the usual things, GNW, his ARIAs nomination. You know the drill."
          "You want me to interview Paul."
          "Isn't that what I said? He's hot property at the moment, everyone wants a bit of him, especially the women."
          "I know, we encountered a couple of them at dinner last night."
          "And?"
          "And nothing, they ignored me stoically and drooled over him."
          "Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?"
          "No," Gina gasped, not realising that it probably was. "Have you ever dated anyone even vaguely famous before."
          "No," Amanda said with more than a little distain in her voice.
          "It's the most surreal thing. I forget he's not just a regular guy, he's not just my Paul he's everyone's Paul. Like last night when these two pretty girls came over and started gushing over him. If he wasn't famous and we were in a night club I'd have decked them, but because he's on telly, when these perky young things in boob tubes talk to him I have to grin and bare it. It's a rather unnerving to think that your boyfriend has so many gorgeous nubile girls at his disposal."
          "You are so neurotic it's pitiful," Amanda sighed. "How many times do I have to point out that it's you he comes home to."
          "Would explain why he's so tired."
          "Oh bullshit, he's managing to fuck you every morning making you late for work."
          Gina blushed. "There is that."
          "Now, I'm giving you the opportunity to go and spend the day 'interviewing' Paul," Amanda said, looking directly into Gina's eyes. "So why are you still here?"
          "Good point," Gina agreed and smiled. "Think of me 'interviewing Paul' as you go through that pile media releases won’t you?" she added, heading for the door.
          "So long as there's an article on my desk by five, you 'interview' as long as you have to," Amanda laughed as a cadet appeared at the door, looking perplexed as to how interviewing could make the two women have such lecherous looks on their faces.