“I thought you’d be at least moderately happy to see me,” Abbie pouted as Gina stalked around the kitchen making tea. She thumped the mugs onto the breakfast bar causing Abbie to flinch with the fear the cheap crockery might shatter.
          “I didn’t know you were coming,” Gina groused, frowning at the still sick kettle. “What were you expecting? A champagne fucking reception?"
          “Hey, you turned up on my doorstep and I was pleased to see you,” Abbie spat, leaning heavily against the draining board.
          “Well we’re very different people,” Gina huffed. “I don’t take interruptions to my daily life very well."
          “That’s because you’ve become a bloody snob!” Abbie sneered. “You and you fancy apartment, big job and celebrity boyfriend. Obviously your old, poor friends aren’t good enough for you any more."
          Gina turned around holding the teaspoon like a knife and glared at her friend. Abbie was slightly shocked by the manic look in Gina’s eyes and the flaring of her nostrils. “Abigail I can tolerate a lot of things,” she announced slow and steady. “But don’t you EVER call me a snob again."
          “Well why are you being such a fucking bitch then?” Abbie groused, leaping forward and snatching the teaspoon before it was inserted somewhere unpleasant.
          “Oh gee let’s think,” Gina sarced. “I’m trying to enjoy being giddily happy for once in my fucking life and you turn up to drop more problems on me that I really haven’t got the slightest desire to solve."
          Abbie looked like she’d just been slapped and took several seconds to refocus. “How do you know I have problems?"
          “Well you’re certainly not here for a friendly visit,” Gina countered crossing her arms.
          “And what makes you think that?” Abbie huffed, looking accusingly at her mug of tea.
          “If it wasn’t urgent for you to leave the State you would have called,” Gina shrugged, grabbed her own tea and marched into the living room.
          “Well you’re wrong!” Abbie called after her.

          Paul pouted as he scanned the rather lurid wine bar he’d decided to pay a visit to. Unfortunatly the only person he could get to go with him was Rich and he couldn’t help but think how much of a geek his friend look amongst the hub of Sydney’s trendiest. A perky brunette with large breasts that were almost toppling out of her strapless bodice walked past and Rich choked on his glass of red wine.
          “They’re called breasts Rich,” Paul sniggered, sipping his own wine and enjoying the sweet taste it left in his mouth.
          “Get fucked,” Rich groused, grabbing a napkin to dab the wine on his chin. “So, was there a reason you wanted an impromptu drinking session?"
          “Gina’s friend Abbie has turned up,” Paul shrugged. “I figure they’ll be bickering until the wee hours."
          “So this is essentially just a way for you to drown your sorrows because there isn’t a chance in hell that you’re getting laid in the near future."
          “Ah mate, you know me so well,” Paul grinned as a petite Asian woman in a satin dress walked past and flashed him a smile. “Well hello…”
          “Paul!” Rich barked.
          “What?” Paul said innocently. “I can look."
          “And what do you think Gina would do if she found out?"
          Visions of being attacked with a rather viscous meat cleaver swam into Paul’s mind. “How’s she ever gonna know?"
          “Call me,” the Asian woman perked as she left a napkin with her name and number scrawled on it in front of Paul, flirtingly touched his arm and then descended into the throngs of people with a pink looking cocktail.
          “That might be a bit of a give away,” Rich chided, sniggering into his glass. Paul frowned at him, screwed up the napkin and flicked it across the table. It smacked Rich in the head and Rich threw it back and it bounced off Paul’s head and was lost under the next table. “Are you really that desperate to get your end away?"
          “What? No,” the mention Gina’s name made him smile involuntarily and then sigh. “I was really looking forward to tonight."
          “You had something special planned?” Rich asked, refilling both their glasses.
          “No, I was looking forward to curling up the couch with her and watching a video or something."
          Rich frowned at his old friend. “You’ve gotta drink more,” he declared and swapped Paul’s glass for the rest of the bottle of wine.

          By ten o’clock Gina was ready to open the kitchen window and hurl herself out of it. Although technically it wasn’t very high and she’d probably just impale herself on a wall, but that wasn’t the point. While she and Abbie were talking freely, her friend was sill impossibly stubborn and cagey about her reason for turning up so unexpectedly. In fact Abbie had done a damn fine job of avoiding the subject the whole evening.
          Gina let out a long yawn, after a day of sun, cricket and Ibis along with Abbie’s emotionally draining appearance she wanted nothing more than to retire to bed and pretend this wasn’t happening.
          “Tired?” Abbie asked and Gina gave her a look that indicated what a stupid question it was.
          “It’s a fine line between that and murderous,” Gina nodded, getting to her feet. “See you in the morning,” she added and escaped to the relative sanctity of her bedroom. She fell happily onto the cool sheets, grabbed a pillow which she held over her face and screamed into it. Gina dropped the pillow back onto the bed and stared frustrated at the ceiling, she was far to tense to sleep but she also had no desire to converse with Abbie. She switched on the bedside light and glanced around for something to entertain herself with, noticing the two Miro books she’d borrowed from Paul, she snatched up the biography, got comfortable and started to read.

          By 10:30 Rich had declared that Paul was showing signs of itching to get away and when Paul had asked how, Rich had stated that Paul had been checking his watch every half an second for the last two hours. So, the two friends shared a cab and Paul found himself shoving his key into Gina’s door with a tinge of excitement. He stepped into the hall and heard the television, the light from it causing an array of shapes in the shadowy hall. Paul wandered into the living room and wasn’t at all surprised to see Abbie sprawled on the couch watching mind numbing television.
          “Where’s Genie?” he asked trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.
          “She ran off with a tanned foreign correspondent,” Abbie yawned and Paul felt himself scowl involuntarily.
          “Why are you here?” he asked bluntly, the wine kicking in and blurring his sense of regret.
          “What’s it to you?” Abbie replied, changing the channel.
          “You upset my woman,” Paul countered, crossing his arms as he walked across the room and perched on the arm of the couch.
          “I didn’t upset her,” Abbie sighed. “Gina just hates her little world being invaded."
          “Right, so putting the obvious jealousy aside,” Paul scorned. “What did you do that forced you to run away."
          “I didn’t run away,” Abbie breathed, focussing intently on the television.
          “Yeah and I’m the new Channel Seven weather girl,” Paul sneered.
          “Really? You’d look great in a yellow jacket and matching knee length skirt,” Abbie chided.
          “Well, whatever it is you’ve done it’s gonna come out eventually."
          “I can wait."
          Paul narrowed his eyes curiously. “It’s bad isn’t it?"
          “I’m not saying?"
          Paul swivelled around so his feet were resting on the couch, he rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his steeple formed fingers. “Who’d you fuck?"
          “What?” Abbie gasped sitting up. “What made you say that?"
          “Lucky guess,” Paul grinned. “So who was it? A friends boyfriend? Someone’s husband? It was! It was someone’s husband wasn’t it?"
          “My sister’s fiance,” Abbie breathed, dropping her head into her hands. “But you can’t tell Gina!"
          “My lips are sealed,” Paul smirked looking triumphant. “So were you very drunk?"
          Abbie nodded miserable and ashamed. “It was their engagement party."
          Paul could repress a giggle. “That’s priceless, that really is."
          “You swear you won’t tell Gina?” Abbie half pleaded, half threatened.
          “I will be a temple of secrecy,” Paul declared in a tone that was almost enough to convince himself. He hopped to his feet, feeling renewed and descended toward the bedroom, leaving Abbie to stew.

          Gina had got tired of the biography and had taken to looking at the book of paintings a while ago and was happily musing over all the paintings she and Paul had looked at, at the exhibition. The door creaked open and she was surprised to see the man himself looking ecstatically happy.
          “Enjoying the pretty pictures?"
          “Trying to but I’m a bit tired,” Gina sighed, quickly disposing of the book. Paul removed his jacket and draped it over a chair, kicked off his shoes and socks and then lobbed something onto the bed.
          “I wanted to get you something and I figured by the little black cloud that appeared before I left chocolate was the best option,” he perked and grabbed the block of chocolate as he flumped next to her on the bed. Paul tore open the paper wrapper, gently opened the foil and then snapped off row of little milk chocolate cubes for them both.
          “You’re a godsend,” Gina smiled and kissed him while he had a mouth full of chocolate. He actually tasted like a mix of chocolate and red wine which was rather nice. “Is the mule still watching telly?"
          “The mule?"
          “Stubborn as…”
          “Ah yes,” Paul mused. “And I know why she’s here."
          “How do you know?"
          “Because I was a police interrogator in a past life."
          Gina cocked her head to the side as she sucked on a bit of chocolate. “Paul."
          “I’m a skilled manipulator,” Paul grinned. “You should have seen what I used to get my brother to…what?”
          “Just shut up and tell me why she’s here,” Gina sighed, snapping off another row of chocolate.
          “Can’t, sworn to secrecy,” Paul chided and Gina narrowed her eyes.
          “I can make you talk."
          “Does it involve a meat cleaver?"
          “What?"
          “Nevermind."
          “Tell me and I’ll make it worth your while,” Gina cooed and brought her lips dangerously close to his. Paul looked at her blankly, his pulse was racing and the blood leaving his brain as she sat there, leaning close, her breasts barely contained by the singlet she was wearing.
          “But I promised,” he whined and then smiled mischievously. “However, if you guessed…”
          “Then I would have figured it out for myself,” Gina nodded, finishing his sentence.
          “Ok,” he mused and pondered a moment. “Sharon is my what?"
          “Sister."
          “Right,” Paul nodded and Gina paused and thought.
          “Abs’s sister, this is to do with Charmaine?” she asked cautiously.
          "It might be," Paul smiled indicating that of course it bloody well was.
          Gina sat twisting a section of her hair around her index finger and then slowly it dawned on her. Her hand shot to her mouth and Paul wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or scream. "She fucked Jacob!" Gina gasped, grabbing Paul's arm tightly. Paul nodded enthusiastically.
          "After the engagement party."
          Gina's mouth fell open. "The dirty slut!"
          "We've all rooted the wrong person at an engagement party before," Paul sighed and looked blankly at Gina. His brow furrowed as her eyes narrowed. "Well, some of us."
          "I can't believe she fucked Jacob," Gina mused, loosening her death grip on Paul's arm much to his relief. "I can't believe Jacob would cheat on Charmaine."
          "They were drunk, you do strange things when you're drunk," Paul shrugged rubbing his arm.
          "Speaking of which," Gina smiled. "Where'd you go tonight?"
          "A wine bar, I took Rich."
          "You took Rich to a wine bar?"
          "Yeah, it was a bit embarrassing," Paul nodded. "He got jealous because I've scored twice."
          "Excuse me?" Gina gasped.
          "I didn't follow 'em up," Paul added quickly. "I would never, ever have followed 'em up." "So how far did you go?"
          "They gave me their numbers," Paul smiled sheepishly. "But I threw them away."
          "Numbers? How much did you flirt with them?"
          "I didn't, honest, I would NEVER cheat on you Genie!"
          Gina looked at Paul unconvinced. "Next time I see Rich I'm asking him."
          "And there I was thinking you trusted me…"
          "Oh I trust you," Gina mused. "I just wouldn't put it past you."
          Paul snapped off another row of chocolate. "Thanks honey," he sarced as she grabbed the rest of the block. "Hey!"
          "I said I'd make it worth your while…" Gina smiled mischievously.
          "Oh, so you did," Paul grinned propping himself up on his elbows. "So, what are you gonna do about the very-nearly-husband stealer in there?"
          "Dunno," Gina shrugged getting to her feet. "I think I'll wait until she tells me herself."
          "That's very diplomatic of you."
          "Well, it's going to be a struggle not to laugh as it is."
          "Genie!"
          "You've never seen Jacob," Gina giggled. "Now, get your gear off and I'll be back in a minute."
          "If you insist," Paul perked sitting up to unbutton his shirt.

          Gina hummed out of the bedroom and all the way down the hall and into the kitchen.
          "Microwave proof container," she mumbled opening various cupboards until she found a Pyrex measuring jug which she broke the rest of the chocolate into and then placed it in the microwave where she nuked it for a few seconds.
          "What are you doing?" Abbie asked, sauntering into the room. She leaned casually against the sink and grabbed a bottle of washing up liquid to play with.
          "Melting chocolate," Gina said blankly as the microwave pinged. She fumbled for a spoon and pulled out the jug to mix its contents and then put it back in the microwave.
          "Do I want to know why?" Abbie asked, knowing full well what her friend had planned.
          Gina felt her cheeks redden. "Well, we're not going to be making chocolate crackles in the bedroom."
          "No, I didn't think you would be," Abbie frowned and then closed her eyes. "I'm going back in the lounge and I'm going to turn the television up really loud."
          "Why? Paul's not vocal," Gina mused as the microwave pinged again. "Unless he's screaming his own name."
          "Oh, too much information," Abbie groaned and shuffled off back toward the living room. Gina heard her close the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She grabbed the jug and hurried back to the bedroom.

          Paul had quickly stripped down to his boxers, he had a vague idea what Gina might do but to be honest his raunchy ideas could be completely wrong and she might just bring him a bowl of ice cream with grated chocolate on top. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd made that mistake but then why would she tell him to strip if they were just eating ice cream. His mind flashed back to their first ice cream eating encounter and his boxers suddenly felt much tighter. So, he was pleased when she reappeared mixing a jug of melted chocolate.
          "Here stir this," she demanded, handing him the jug. Paul obliged as Gina tied back her long blonde hair and pulled the bottom of her singlet through the top and turned it into a bikini-style top which pleased Paul to no end. "Lie down," she ordered, walking back over and taking the jug from him. Paul did so, trying not to smile but not succeeding, especially when she straddled him, her thighs holding him firmly in place.
          "I know exactly what you're gonna do," Paul mused, letting his hands move to her waist, he stroked her sides gently and felt her shiver.
          Gina stuck her finger into the chocolate and then brought it to his lips. Paul quickly decided it tasted better licked from her finger. "Oh I nearly forgot," she gasped and leaned over, still gripping him, to her bedside draws and produced a small paintbrush.
          "You have a body art brush next to your bed?" Paul gasped. "No wonder we got together."
          "I like the be prepared," Gina shrugged dipping the brush into the chocolate. "I mean, you never know when you're going to want to paint your lover in chocolate right?" she pursed her lips as she drew a large heart with an arrow through it on his torso.
          "Please tell me you're going to lick that off," he breathed and she brought her lips to his briefly and then started gently licking the chocolate from along the bottom of his ribcage. She felt him shudder and it Gina couldn't help but smile knowing that he was at her mercy.

          Abbie had a restless night mostly because of the stress of everything that was going on back home but not at all helped by the fact she'd had to spend what felt like five hours listening to the sometimes nauseatingly sappy but mostly disturbing pillow talk of Gina and Paul. She padded up the hall in her pyjamas and groaned as she entered the kitchen and found Paul and Gina not mulling over the Sunday papers but as close to chewing each others tonsils as was humanly possible.
          "It's far too early for that," Abbie groused, blearily hunting out the kettle. It had already boiled and spat boiling water at her which made her glasses fog up. "What the fuck…"
          "Kettle's broke," Paul smiled and wiped the fog from her glasses with a napkin.
          "I'd never have noticed," Abbie spat. "Thanks for telling me."
          "Not a problem," Gina perked. "I hope your grumpy pants aren't staying on all day."
          "I'm sorry, I got very little sleep," Abbie huffed as she looked for coffee. "Where's your coffee?"
          "When have I ever drank coffee?"
          "I don't know, thought you might have taken it up or something."
          "Tea'll perk you up more," Paul piped up.
          "No, a large dose of caffeine will perk me up," Abbie countered and decided to just stand and sulk a while. She glared at her exceedingly happy friend and wanted to slap her. "Do you two realise what demented pillow talk you have?"
          "Yeah," Paul and Gina nodded. "You shouldn't have been listening," he added taking a seat at the table.
          "What people have raunchy sex and then discuss which Smurf was the sexiest?" Abbie continued. "They're all fucking blue and white."
          "Smurfette had blonde hair," Gina retorted.
          "And the painter fella wore a red smock," Paul added.
          "And Poppa wore red tights," Gina enthused.
          "Yeah," Paul nodded. "So you're wrong."
          "Whatever," Abbie huffed, her mood even darker.
          "No, I think you should admit it," Paul teased. "Go on Abs, let's hear it. Tell us we were right and you were wrong."
          "Get fucked," Abbie sneered and Paul smirked.
          "Don't tell him to get fucked," Gina scowled. "He's got more right to be here than you."
          "So there," Paul grinned and gave her the finger. Gina slapped his arm and he let out a yelp.
          "Dickhead," Abbie spat as childishly as Paul was being.
          "This from you," Gina chided. "At least Paul's not fucking his sister's nearly husband."
          "Thank god," Paul shuddered thinking of his brother-in-law.
          "He promised he wouldn't tell," Abbie groaned, burying her embarrassed face in her hands.
          "He didn't, I guessed," Gina declared smugly and then bit her lip to stop from laughing. Abbie looked up noticed her friend struggling to contain laughter.
          "Oh let it out for Christ's sake," Abbie mumbled and Gina burst into hysterical laughter. Paul started to laugh as well, although he wasn't sure why and he soon decided to voice this concern.
          "I wish I knew why it was so funny," he declared, sniggering. Gina wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
          "Oh hon, it's just the image of Abs and Jacob," Gina giggled. "Jacob is a weedy little balding maths teacher. He wears cardigans, has two cats called Muffin and Tullah-Belle and last had a tan in 1972."
          Paul looked at voluptuous Abbie with her satin robe, painted nails and tattoos and imagined her boffing Dr Karl Kruszelnicki, as he did he felt the laughter rising and soon he was as hysterical as Gina.
          "It's not that funny!" Abbie gasped feeling even more embarrassed and ashamed. "I was drunk, very, very drunk…"
          "Did he ask you to scream calculus?" Paul sniggered and then took to groaning "Pi 3.14159" as seductively as he could.
          Gina cackled as she sat herself in his lap, she kept her arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Hey babe, if one man is thrusting approximately 10 times a minute and a woman is groaning twice every alternate thrust how long until they come?"
          Paul cracked up laughing. "I don't know, let's get a pencil and some grid paper and work it out."
          "I hate you both!" Abbie huffed and marched out of the room and Gina and Paul had taken to lecherously reciting the times tables.