“Who’s on the phone?” Ian lazily strung words together at two a.m. to get himself some water. “Honestly, Ab…it’s fricking early.”

“Shh, it’s Michael, and I’m counseling, and what are your thoughts on Amanda Beard?” She said very quickly. “Michael had to use the bathroom.”

“Amanda Beard…erm, she’s nice looking, she’s got a bit of a possessive side to her, and from Grant’s reports, very good in bed.” Ian answered, before downing a tall glass of water. “Why? OH. MICHAEL…give me the phone.”

Speechless, Abby handed him the phone. “So, Abby what do you think I should do.”

“Mate, this is Ian. Tell me exactly what happened.” Ian said quickly.

Michael, on the other side, was very taken aback that he’d be up with practice in three hours. “Uh, well, I don’t know. I was, am, sort of, seeing someone before going to Athens, and she couldn’t come with. And Amanda, you know her.”

“Actually I don’t, I’ve said hi once or twice, but never spent any time with her, thanks to your cousin.” Ian said, looking over at Abby. “I meant that in a good way.”

“Uh huh…” Abby said, grinning after she gave Ian a playful punch.

“Well…Amanda’s been calling. A lot. And planning to do stuff during the tour. Alone, with me.” Michael replied. “And I keep telling her that were just…you know, a fling.”

“Ahh Olympic flings.” Ian nodded, sagely. “What did she say to that?”

“She told me that it was pretty stupid of me because we were going to be seeing a lot of each other for promos and stuff.” Michael answered.

“Which it was.” Ian added.

“Ahh, shut up. But yeah, she always brings up you and Abby and how you guys are still working out, and when I tell her that I’ve got a girlfriend…” Michael trailed off.

“She goes mental.” Ian answered. “Yeah…I had an ex-girlfriend that thought I was sleeping around, which I wasn’t. Found out it was the other way around. Grant Hackett, bastard. It was a good thing I shaved his head in his sleep.”

Michael let out a laugh. “So. What do I do?”

Ian thought about it for a moment. He looked over at Abby who had fallen asleep over “Swimmer’s Weekly” drooling on a page about speedo goggles. “Just be firm with her, tell her that whatever you had in the Olympics stays in the village. That you’re happy with your girl, and that you want to remain professional.”

Michael sighed into the phone. “What does Abby say?”

“Abby is sleeping, but I can wake her if you want.” Ian said, toying with the phone cord.

“Do it.” Michael said, not to differently from Ben Stiller in Starsky and Hutch.

Abby stirred and Ian handed her the phone. “So what’d he tell you to do?”

“Be firm with her or something like that.”

“Yeah…I like that idea.” Abby said sleepily. “Oh, and just be sure to tell her that I am very protective of you. Even though she is taller than me, I will kick her ass.”

“She can crack a walnut with her back muscles. I’ve seen it.” Michael informed her. “Abby, I’ll take care of it. No need to act big sisterish, I’ve got two of those.”

“Yeah, I’ve got three older brothers. Two on the wrestling team, and one working on his blackbelt…they practiced on me, remember?” Abby said nonchalantly. “And if you recall, I took you down easily when we were doing chicken fights in Barcelona.”

“Only because I let you.” Michael added snootily.

“Um, I think Aaron’s words of encouragement were ‘Go for the jugular Abby, he didn’t stand a chance!’ That you didn’t.” Abby answered. “Come on, I bench more than you.”

“You SO don’t!” Michael yelled indignantly.

Ian cleared his throat. “Children…” He took the phone from Abby. “Michael, I’m glad to see that you and your cousin can fight each other, but we need to focus on the task at hand.”

“Yeah I know be firm, but I can SO bench more than Abby.” Michael said loudly.

“Mate, I’ve gone deaf.” Ian answered. “So, whenever you do this. Call us up. You’ve got my cell, and Abby’s. She hasn’t got classes tomorrow or Friday, and I’ll be free all weekend. Just give us a ring.”

“Okay…thanks Ian. Tell Abby thanks too, and that I’ve bought her a ticket home for Christmas whether she likes it or not.”

Ian laughed. “Alright. I’ll tell her. Good luck, mate. With a girl like that you’ll need it.”

Abby had again fallen asleep on “Swimmer’s Weekly” but this time to a page opened to Ian Thorpe: Beneath the Suit. Ian took it upon himself and carried her into the bedroom. “Ian?”

“Yes, love?”

“I can so bench press more than Michael.” She said, sleepily.

“That’s nice…go to bed.” Ian said, as he settled in next to her.