“It was nice of you to say you’d make Mexican for Nix,” Kian said, chopping up tomatoes while Samantha rummaged through the cupboards. “Except we don’t have any avocado.”

Samantha stopped moving around and slowly turned towards him, “We don’t?”

He turned around, looking nervous, “Er. No. Not that I’m aware of.”

“FOOK!” She slammed a cupboard shut and went to the fridge to rifle through its contents. “MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!”

“WHAT?!” Mark hollered from the other room. “We’re setting up the Monopoly game!”

Samantha leaned against the counter beside Kian, and put on her best sickly sweet voice, “Can you PLEASE come in here for a second?”

“What do you want with him?” Maddy yelled back. “He’s my teammate! Leave him be, you barracuda! You‘ve already got Kian!”

“I haven’t GOT Kian!” Samantha yelled back, ignoring Kian, who was laughing almost hysterically. “And I am NOT a barracuda! You’ve got four/fifths of them!”

Mark pushed through into the kitchen, looking confused and curious at the same time. “What?”

“We haven’t got an avocado,” Samantha whispered. “Why didn’t you get one? When you said, ‘Want an avocado?’ and I said ‘Yes,’ that meant yes, I would like one.”

“I know that,” Mark retorted, plowing across the kitchen; he reached behind the toaster. “Maddy said she hid them so Nix wouldn’t eat them whole.” He handed her a couple rather large avocados, and then left the room.

“I didn’t know Nicky was such an avocado fiend,” Samantha commented lightly, reaching across Kian for a knife.

He stopped laughing, “He eats Mexican at least three times a week; you’ve had it with him. I thought you probably put two and two together.”

She shrugged, “Not really. I knew he loved it, but not THIS much. This is an unhealthy obsession.”

“Mmmm,” Kian agreed quietly, watching her meticulously cut the avocado and peal off the skin just like a pro. “You didn’t mention guacamole as one of your cooking strengths.”

“Not much cooking involved in it. But, when you love something, you learn to make it for yourself pretty quickly.” She threw his diced tomatoes into a bowl. “Onions, next. I make guacamole at least once a week. I usually invite Nix and George, because Nix says that, even though Georginia is a fantastic woman and cook, she cannot make guacamole for shite.”

Kian burst out laughing, “No, I remember one time he came into rehearsal after being sick all night from eating her guacamole.” He shook his head and began cutting some onion. “Poor lad was just as green as the avocado.” Kian sniffed, “George is a brilliant cook normally. She learned from their personal chef, apparently.”

Samantha smiled at him, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

Kian sniffed again, and wiped his nose; Samantha handed him a tissue. “You’re not crying, are you?”

“Bloody onions.” He blew his nose, washed his hands, and returned to the onions.

She laughed, “That’s exactly why I asked YOU to cut them, because I always end up bawling before I‘m even done with them.”

Another sniff. “If you put them in the freezer for a few seconds before you cut them, it usually helps.”

Samantha stopped mashing the avocado, and looked seriously at him, “I know. How do YOU know? You don’t cook for yourself.”

“At two o’clock in the morning, when you can’t sleep, and you’re in a hotel room, the only thing on is---”

“Cooking shows, and infomercials,” she finished for him, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I end up watching, too.” She continued mashing. “I figured you were out like a light after a night of partying and performing, though.”

“Not always. Sometimes, I’m so hyped up that I can’t sleep, and sometimes I’m so hyped up that I’m exhausted and can’t stay awake. It’s an ugly cycle.” He threw a few onion pieces into the bowl with the diced tomato. “You should come hang out with me next time you can’t sleep. At least then we’d be awake together.”

An eyebrow rose into her hairline, “Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that.”

“How come you can’t sleep?”

“Stress,” she mumbled, pouring the bowl of tomatoes and onion into the avocado mush.

“From what?” Kian took a few steps towards her and leaned with his back against the counter, watching her.

Samantha looked up at him, “My job.”

He gave her a wane smile, “Me, you mean. I know they don’t give you any trouble.”

“I’m only assigned to you and Nicky,” she chuckled. “And, no, he doesn’t give me any trouble. Except of the ‘I’m Crazy Nicky Byrne-Hear Me Roar’ variety. Which is just him being ridiculous, though he‘s remarkably entertaining.”

“I don’t mean to be an arse to you, you know. I just don’t know how else to act---”

“Whatever. It’s fine. It’s part of the job, making you wear things you don’t like, and dealing with the repercussions.”

“That one time,” he replied quietly. “Just the one time. And did you notice I wore that shirt again of my own free will?”

“When?” She asked, flabbergasted.

“I dunno. In everyday life. At rehearsals once, I think. I look best when you clothe me, anyway.”

“Which is only 70% of the time,” she joked. “My, what will you do with the other 30?”

Kian laughed, “Be a fashion victim.”

*

“What are they doing in there?” Maddy asked as Mark took his place at the game board. Shane, Nicky and Bryan all turned their attention to him.

Mark shrugged and rolled the dice, “Oh, you know. Having sex.”

Nicky gasped, “Hopefully not on the guacamole!” He looked towards the kitchen door, horrified.

“No, rest assured your precious guacamole is fine.” Mark turned to a stunned looking Maddy, “I rolled a six.”

“She hates him,” Maddy stated blankly. “He hates her. Why’d they want you out there, for a threesome?”

Bryan started giggling and then busied himself with arranging the property cards; Shane and Nicky exchanged knowing glances. Mark shook his head at her, “No. Move six.”

She huffed out a breath, “Just be ready, Feehily. If she’s getting some on this Godforsaken trip, so am I.”

Mark’s eyes widened, “From who?”

“Who do you THINK?” Shane asked, grinning. “Not me; I’m engaged. Nix and Bry are married, and Kian’s indisposed.”

Mark swallowed hard and watched as Maddy moved their piece six spaces. “Community Chest.”

“EXCUSE ME!?” She screamed. “My chest is not for the community.”

Nicky, Bryan and Shane all tumbled around on the floor laughing while Mark tried to calmly explain. “No, you landed on Community Chest. Look.”

“Oh,” she replied quietly. “Right.” She reached for a card, mumbling, “Bloody Samantha. Bloody Arsehole Kian. BLOODY ORPHANS! We have to pay fifty dollars for them!”