Gina leaned back in her chair, linked her fingers together and stretched until she heard the bones crack.
          “Oh that was sexy,” Danny mused through the highlighter pen that was being held in his teeth.
          “Goes with the fluoro yellow that’s leaked down your shirt,” Gina chided as Danny looked down to see a yellow streak that narrowly missed his favourite Sydney Swans tie.
          “That was my only white shirt,” he pouted, reaching for a tissue to pitifully dab at the stain.
          “So buy another one,” Gina shrugged and Danny looked at her sheepishly. “What did you buy for your car that involved your emergency shirt money?”
          “Nothing,” Danny said haughtily. “I took Sam for dinner at the Tower.”
          “Dan, you can’t afford to even look in the window at the Tower,” Gina gasped nearly falling back on her swivel chair.
          “Yeah well, Sam doesn’t need to know that,” Danny shrugged looking miserable. “And she’ll kill me for being white-shirt-less.”
          “Men are so stupid, really you are,” Gina sighed. “I’d steal you one of Paul’s but your rippling muscles would tear through the flimsy material.”
          “I’m taking that as a compliment.”
          “But is it? I mean I’ve never slept with you no matter how many times you’ve got drunk and asked.”
          “Oh you’re just hysterical,” Danny huffed and picked up his highlighter pen again.
          Gina shook her head and looked back at her monitor. For some reason she couldn’t seem to find a decent way to phrase the end of a story about a politician who was rorting his entitlements. She was starting to get frustrated when her phone began to ring. Gina fished around under a stack of papers until she found it and noticed it was Paul who was ringing. It’d been a couple of days since they’d talked, what with work and Abbie being ever present.
          “Good afternoon,” she announced cheerfully.
          “Hey gor…” Paul began and then gave a rather disturbing, heaving cough. “…geous.”
          “Oh my god, you sound terrible!”
          “I’ve got a bit of a cold,” Paul sniffed miserably. “How’re you?”
          “Obviously better than you,” Gina sighed. “How long have you been like this?”
          “Two days,” Paul replied and broke into another coughing fit. “I think I’m actually dying or there’s a baby made of phlegm growing inside my lungs.”
          “That’s not an attractive image babe.”
          “It’s not supposed to be,” Gina heard Paul blow his nose and groan.
          “Aw you poor thing,” she cooed. “I’m nearly finished here, I’ll come straight round and mother you.”
          “I’m not an attractive sight are you sure you want to?”
          “You’re always an attractive sight,” Gina chided. “Besides if I go home I might just kill Abbie and I’m really not in the mood to scrub blood and faecal matter from the kitchen floor.”
          “And you said my phlegm baby was an unattractive image.”
          Gina listened as Paul started coughing again. “I think I better stop off at the chemist at pick you up a few supplies on my way.”
          “That would be very much appreciated,” Paul mumbled through a handful of tissues.
          “My poor sick Pauly, ok, rest and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Gina said warmly and ended the call.
          She looked back at her half finished article and let out a sigh. Danny looked over curiously.
          “Problems?”
          “Paul’s sick.”
          “I meant with the article.”
          “Oh, right, yeah I just can’t think of a decent way to end the damn thing,” Gina pouted and glared at her monitor.
          “Can I offer you a solution?” Danny asked, scooting over to her on his swivel chair.
          “What?”
          “Well, how about I finish your article so you can go home to Pauly and you pick me up a new shirt?”
          Gina raised an eyebrow. “Why are all men hopeless? Why? Is there like a manual you’re given at birth or something?”
          Danny smiled inanely. “So do we have a deal?”
          Gina closed her eyes. “Yes but I’m only agreeing because Paul might die if I don’t bring him some Butter Menthols.”
          Danny cheekily poked her nose with his highlighter pen. “You’re not convincing me Blondie. As see through as the window of the women’s toilets.”
          “But that’s on the 6th floor,” Gina said confused. “Actually how do you know there’s a window in there?”
          “Can’t talk, working,” Danny said quickly as he pushed her out of the way to get access to her monitor.

          Paul lay curled up on his couch wrapped in the doona from the spare room. He was sweating but ice cold, his throat hurt, his head hurt. Actually if he thought about it everything in general hurt. His nose was blocked yet running and his body ached from coughing so much. He would have liked to have given his current position some long winded, tiradical name but he felt so bad that the best he could come up with was he felt like a big phlegmy blob of crap. The only upside was that it was Friday so he didn’t have to down a pile of pills and then fake happiness for filming as he’d done plenty of times before. There was nothing worse than trying to keep it together in front of an audience when doped up on flu tablets. You either got drowsy or forgot and accidentally consumed large amounts of alcohol and didn’t wake up for three days. Actually, that was seeming like a good idea if the walk to the fridge wasn’t so tiring. He’d got a glass of water earlier and had to take a five minute nap near the sink to recuperate. Paul pulled the doona around him tighter and closed his eyes, willing for more sleep and a break for his stressed lungs.

          Gina sauntered into the chemist and picked up a couple of packets of lozenges, some cough medicine and panadol. The woman who served her smiled inanely and asked how she was. Gina felt a desire to tell her she had a severe case of genital warts but managed to fight the urge and just reply with a simple ‘just dandy’ before she headed to the supermarket. Where she picked up a couple of packets of chicken soup, honey and a packet of chocolate biscuits for herself. Gina made a final stop at the bottle shop before making her way to Paul’s apartment.

          She let herself in and wasn’t surprised to find Paul asleep on the couch. He looked an unpleasant grey colour, minus his red stuffed up nose and cheeks. Gina put her bags on the floor next to the couch and bent over to drop a kiss on his clammy cheek. Paul let out a snort, coughed and blearily opened his eyes.
          “Please tell me you brought something to drain my lungs,” he mumbled and fumbled to a half sitting position. Gina slipped into the spot beside him and he automatically snuggled into her, his head resting on her shoulder. “I’m not well.”
          “I’ve noticed,” Gina soothed, stroking his hair which was a little damp from sweat. “You’re roasting, have you not taken something to bring your temperature down?”
          “That would involve walking, far too tiring,” Paul sighed closing his eyes. Gina leant forward and grabbed her bags from the floor. She fished out a water bottle from her work bag and the box of panadol from the chemist bag and made him take a couple of the tablets.
          “Thanks,” Paul breathed trying to hold back a cough.. “What else did you bring me?”
          “Medicine,” Gina smiled pulling out the bottle of cough medicine. It had a little cup fixed over the lid which she removed and filled with the orange liquid from the bottle.
          “What’s this?” Paul asked and sniffed it even though he couldn’t smell anything.
          “It’ll stop you coughing,” Gina replied as he drank it like it was a shot of tequila.
          Paul waited for the horrible aftertaste but it didn’t come. “That tasted like orange juice! Medicine isn’t supposed to be nice.”
          “I know, I started using that stuff when I was a teenager,” Gina enthused. “Just because we’re adults doesn’t mean we can’t have cool tasting medicine. Besides it works a charm.”
          “Should I be having so much medicine at once?”
          “I’m sure you’ve ingested worse than a couple of panadol and some cough syrup buddy,” Gina chided and Paul smiled wryly. “My last surprise is this.” She handed Paul a brown, bottle shop bag and he opened it with some enthusiasm.
          “Oh whisky, and quality stuff,” he opened the bottle and took a mouthful. “Oh that’s hit the spot.”
          “I bought it to make a you a hot toddy later,” Gina mused taking the bottle from him.
          “You’re like my Mum only cooler,” Paul giggled drowsily and snuggled back into her. “So, how have you been?”
          “Busy, if bloody politicians could behave themselves I would have a much easier life,” Gina groused. “Other than conceiving a phlegm baby how have you been?”
          “Busy, it’s science week next week so we’re doing a bloody show in Canberra. Which I don’t mind y’know but it means my family will know I’m in town.”
          “Oh no, the horror,” Gina chided and Paul gave a small cough.
          “It just means more time away from you,” Paul whined. “It’s bad enough that Abs is making life difficult…”
          “Difficult? It’s like living with a Neanderthal woman,” Gina huffed. “She never cleans up after herself, she’s got no money to contribute so I keep having to loan her money just to she’ll go away. Which makes things worse because she goes to god knows where, gets drunk and brings home unattractive men who stand in their underwear and clutter up my kitchen.”
          “Excuse me?”
          “I said they were unattractive,” Gina pouted as Paul took to stroking the palm of her hand. “She’s my best friend and I love her but by god I wish she’d get on the next plane back to Adelaide.”
          “Have you told her how you feel?”
          “I can’t,” Gina wailed. “She’s my friend, I’ll look like a bad friend if I tell her to get lost.”
          Paul lifted his head and shook it. “Women have so many ‘friend’ issues. It’s like you have a set of guidelines that you must follow otherwise life will cease as we know it.”
          “It goes with the men are useless manual,” Gina nodded and Paul looked at her amused.
          “I’m so glad you’re here,” Paul sighed. “Hope you don’t catch my disease though.”
          “Rather catch a cold with you than have to council Abs for the ten millionth time,” Gina cooed and brought her lips dangerously close to his.
          “You really don’t want to kiss me,” Paul mused pulling away. “I’m disgusting and phlegmy.”
          “Nah,” Gina smiled and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “You’re still gorgeous.” She kissed him tenderly on the lips and Paul fought the cough that was forming in his throat at the mucus that wanted to cascade from his nose to kiss her back. They managed a brief kiss before Paul pulled away and reached for his box of tissues.
          “Sorry, I really don’t want to snot on you,” he smiled. “I think that might destroy any intimacy we’ve ever had.”
          Gina pressed her palm to his forehead as he blew his nose into a handful of tissues. “You’re feeling a much more reasonable temperature now, your coughing has eased and you’re smiling.”
          “And it’s all because of you,” Paul cooed. “You’re an angel babe.”
          “An angel with quality pharmaceutical products,” Gina countered as Paul brushed his lips against her cheek.

          Paul woke in a mess of snuffles and blearily tried to blow his nose on some soggy tissues. He was feeling slightly less crappy than he had the day before, his headache had abated but everything else was still there. He gently moved the covers enough to creep out of bed. He didn’t want to wake Gina who was buried between the pillows as he figured she wouldn’t have had a great night what with him coughing, wheezing and most likely snoring for most of it. He shuffled around in the dull, early morning light and pulled on a pair of tracksuit pants, a long sleeved t-shirt and Gina’s fluffy cardigan because he couldn’t find a jumper of his own and crept out of the room.
          Paul padded into the kitchen and let out the coughing fit he’d been holding in while acquiring himself a glass of water. He downed some more cough medicine and hunted out a throat lozenge before plonking himself wearily on the couch and flipping on the television. His choice of viewing at 6am on a Saturday morning was really a toss up between Rage and Yoga TV and while he preferred music videos, their thumping bass lines were not going to help in his fragile state. So he left it on the yoga programme which in turn was a good choice because a rather stunning brunette in a leotard was proving her flexibility on the beach.

          Gina stretched out, her eyes still firmly closed and her arms and legs moving over the cool sheets. She wasn’t surprised to find Paul not beside her. Gina rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes, she wasn’t exactly fully rested but it was hard to sleep when Paul sounded like he was about to exude his lungs through his nose. She was grouchy he’d snored loudly for most of the night but then it wasn’t his fault he had the flu and couldn’t breath normally. She threw back the covers and wearily looked around for something to put on over her underwear. Her cardigan had mysteriously disappeared so she fished a jumper out of Paul’s wardrobe and then staggered into the living room.
          The television was spewing out the Spice Girls’ latest hit and Gina found herself guiltily humming it as she plonked herself down next to Paul who was curled up asleep.
          “Pink mohair really isn’t you,” she declared and he smiled and opened one eye.
          “It was all I could find without waking you,” he replied sitting up. “And who said you could wear that huh?”
          “Well it was either that or I walked around in my knickers.” Paul raised an eyebrow and Gina shook her head. “How are you feeling?”
          “Like my vital organs are trying to claw their way out through my nose.”
          “Aww,” Gina cooed and wrapped his rather pathetic form in a hug. “Think you could manage breakfast?”
          “Depends,” Paul smiled stifling a cough. “Do I get another hot toddy?”
          “No,” Gina smiled back. “But you can have a hot honey and lemon drink.”
          “Oh that’s inviting,” Paul groused even though he knew it’d do wonders for his throat. “I’m sick, I should be pampered.”
          “This isn’t pampering?”
          “Pampering would be bringing me alcoholic beverages in only your underwear.”
          “Have you been mixing the panadol and cough syrup?”
          “No, should I?” Paul asked, making himself giggle and inadvertently cough. “When I was a kid my mum would buy me present when I was sick. Toy soldiers or crayons or something like that.”
          “Would you like me to pop to the shop and pick you up some Crayolas?” Gina mused as she stroked the mohair covering his arm.
          “And a Spiderman colouring book…” Paul added coyly. They looked at each other and smiled stupidly.
          “I’m going to make some breakfast,” Gina laughed and leant forward to kiss him. “Mmm menthol.”
          “You’re crazy,” Paul coughed, still disbelieving that she loved him enough to want to snog his snotty self.
          “Totally,” Gina agreed, kissing him again and then getting to her feet. “Toast and jam ok?”
          “Whatever you make babe,” Paul perked and watched her totter off into the kitchen. “That one’s a keeper,” he breathed and lay back down.

          A couple of phlegmy hours later Gina convinced herself she had to go home and survey the damage, and Paul offered to come along while muttering something about ‘fresh air’ after a traumatic sneezing fit that saw him nearly impale himself on the CD tower.
          Gina stopped outside the supermarket and dashed inside to pick up a few things. She returned with a couple of bags and grinned as she flopped into the driver’s seat.
          “As promised I bought you a present,” she perked and Paul giggle-coughed. He broke into cough-laughter when she presented him with a pack of Crayola crayons and a Spiderman colouring book.
          “I’ll colour them all in just for you,” he beamed and leant across to kiss her.
          “Damn right you will. I had to wrestle it off a six-year-old,” Gina nodded as she kicked the engine into gear and headed out of the car park.

          It didn’t take long before they were walking up the stairs to her apartment. She took a deep breath before unlocking the door and stepped inside to find Abbie’s skirt just inside the door.
          “That’s always a good start,” Paul shrugged as Gina led the way into the living room. She froze at the door and Paul ran into the back of her. He was going to grouse until he looked over her shoulder. “That’s not so good.”
          Gina’s usually clean living room was looking decidedly unclean with several empty wine bottles littered on the coffee table, a few empty stubbies loitered underneath. There was the remainder of some take away packaging on the couch, crushed corn chips on the floor and various clothes items draped over floor and furniture. Paul stepped back as Gina stalked into the kitchen and was greeted by a sink full of dishes. She was fuming and Paul could tell.
          “How long have you been away from home?” he asked light heartedly.
          “I’ve been busy but one night,” Gina declared, sounding more shocked than annoyed. “But this is how Abs is essentially.”
          “So how did you guys ever survive cohabitation?”
          “I moved to Sydney,” Gina replied coldly. “I don’t mind her being unemployed, I can handle her living here. It’d be nice if she gave me a monetary contribution but y’know what I can’t stand?” she snarled, Paul was going to answer but felt it best not to. “That she is an out and out bloody slob!”
          “It’s just an observation but I think she’s taking you a bit for granted,” Paul breathed, hunting out a tissue from his pocket.
          “A bit for granted,” Gina groused and turned on her heel. She marched down the hall to the spare room. The door was ajar and she pushed it open. It was no neater than the living room. Abbie was sprawled on the bed sleeping with what Gina assumed was a man. The covers were barely concealing their naked flesh and Paul was hoping that neither of them woke with a start.
          “Maybe we should come back later,” Paul whispered and tried to usher her from the doorway.
          “Fuck that,” Gina hissed and marched back to the kitchen. Paul heard the freezer door open and close and Gina returned with a box of ice cubes.
          “Genie!” Paul gasped but didn’t attempt to stop her as she marched into the room and deposited the lot over the sleeping pair.
          Abbie let out a shriek and leapt up, Paul broke into hard cough-laughter and covered his eyes as she hurriedly wrapped a sheet around herself. The man was so startled he tumbled onto the floor and was speechless.
          “What the fuck did you do that for?” Abbie yelled looking both embarrassed and furious.
          “Because you’re fucking up my life that’s why,” Gina snapped as the man pulled on his jeans, grabbed the rest of his things and hurried from the room.
          “Seeya mate,” Paul chided and stepped into the room beside Gina.
          “Gee I’m so sorry I’m such an imposition on your perfect little life,” Abbie groused. “You think you’re so great because you’re fucking him,” she added motioning to Paul.
          “You know actually I do,” Gina spat. “Because he makes me feel bloody special.”
          “Sorry I’m such a burden,” Abbie hissed trying to find some clothes amongst the sprawl of mess on the floor.
          “You don’t get it do you,” Gina growled. “This isn’t about my relationship with Paul, it’s about my relationship with you.”
          “So you don’t want to be friends any more? Is that it?”
          Gina let out a frustrated scream. “Abs I moved here because I wanted to change my life, to be someone, to make something of myself and to get out of the fucking rut that I was stuck in,” she explained. “And you know it worked for me, my life has changed. I’ve got a fantastic job, fantastic friends and an amazing boyfriend.”
          “Thanks Genie,” Paul smiled proudly then hushed himself again.
          “The main thing is I’ve changed Abs and I can see quite clearly that you haven’t. I mean look at you? You’re hungover, unemployed, broke and fucking anything with a pulse. Is that how you want to live your life?”
          “Yeah well we can’t all be lucky like you,” Abbie huffed, her voice cracking. “I’ve got nothing back in Adelaide, not even you.”
          Gina let out a sigh as she felt Paul squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll put the kettle on,” he declared and sneezed his way into the kitchen.
          “You’ll have to go home eventually,” she declared. “Whether you like it or not.”
          “And then what?” Abbie sniffed sitting on the edge of the bed.
          “Well, if you want to try Sydney living you can come back here but you’ve got to get a job.”
          “And I can stay here?”
          “So long as you learn to clean because otherwise you’re out on your arse.”
          Abbie nodded slowly. “I’m so jealous of you.”
          “Oh don’t be,” Gina soothed. “My apartment is draughty, my job too busy, half of the female population of Australia want to fuck my boyfriend and to top if off I’m stuck in Sydney.”
          Abbie laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do have one up on you.” Gina nodded enthusiastically and they broke into relieved giggles.

          Once Abbie was dressed the two friends wandered into the kitchen where Paul was sitting at the table. Abbie looked at Gina oddly and then walked over to look over Paul’s shoulder.
          “He’s colouring in right?”
          “It’s my present ‘cos I’m sick,” he declared and snuffled as is to prove the point.
          “You bought him a colouring book?” Abbie said bewildered.
          “It’s what he asked for,” Gina shrugged and set about filling the sink with hot water so she could do the dishes.
          Abbie sat herself at the table and watched Paul a moment. “Can I join in?” she asked amused.
          “Sure,” Paul nodded and handed her a grey crayon. “but you gotta do that building.”
          “I want to do Spidey,” Abbie pouted.
          “Well you can’t,” Paul groused and she sighed before starting on the building. “It’s neater if you colour in one direction.”
          “Don’t be a pretentious art freak,” Gina ordered and jokingly hit him on the head with her scourer.
          “Well she’s making it look shitty,” Paul huffed looking miserably at Abbie’s colouring in skills.
          “Crayon Nazi,” Abbie chided and grabbed a pink crayon and started colouring in the Green Goblin.
          “Hey!” Paul squealed and snatched the book away.
          “Child,” Abbie sneered.
          “Slob,” Paul countered.
          “Oh that hurt,” Abbie jeered. “Freak.”
          “Pig,” Paul declared and started making snuffling noises until he had a coughing fit.
          “Sucked in,” Abbie cackled. “I hope your lungs fill with so much phlegm they burst.”
          “Well I hope hairy arse man that spent the night with gives you a severe case of genital warts,” Paul scowled. “On the inside of your mouth!”
          “Oh you should ask Gina all about venereal disease,” Abbie smirked and was promptly smacked in the back of the head with a sponge. “Hey!”
          “This from the woman who played hide the calculator with a maths teacher,” Gina snide.
          “Oh low blow,” Paul grinned as Abbie looked startled. “Come on Abs hit her with a witty come back.”
          “So how’s Chris? I take it Paul knows all about those e-mails he’s been sending to you and how you’re planning on meeting for dinner tonight,” Abbie perked and got up from the table.
          “Touche,” Paul nodded and then frowned. “Hold on, did you just say dinner with Chris?” Abbie nodded before she sauntered out of the kitchen. Paul looked over at Gina who looked mortified.
          “Pasta sauce is an arse to get off,” she said sheepishly her cheeks flushing red.