“I think he gets hotter every time I see him.”

“Sydney, you were miles away from him.”

Sydney gave her a withering look. “You needn’t be up close to appreciate the hotness, Adelaide.”

“Are we talking about Thorpie or Phelps?”

“I’m talking about Thorpie, but Michael looked incredibly sex----OHMYGOD.”

“Ooomph,” was the deep voiced reply.

“I’m sorry. I was arguing with Adelaide---”

“It’s okay, but we can’t keep meeting like this. One of us is going to get bruised.” Michael smiled, running a hand through his damp hair and smoothing out his shirt as he tried to collect his bearings.

“I think I already am,” Sydney replied seriously, trying to hold back a grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me.”

Michael looked falsely bashful. “I actually thought you were stalking me.”

“No, it’s the other way around.”

He laughed. “I saw you leaving from the window and I wanted to come and say hello.” He gestured behind him. “I was being celebrated.”

“Celebrated?” Sydney craned her neck to see past him and saw a raucous party going on in a club a few feet away. “Ah. I see. Congratulations, by the way. You were fantastic.”

He grinned down at her. “Thanks.”

An uncomfortable moment passed. Adelaide cleared her throat to try and relieve some of the tension. “Well, I’m going to go to bed. I’m beat. It was a very long, and exciting day…what with all the swimming and the screaming.”

Michael smirked. “Yeah, I’m exhausted. I was going to ask if you two wanted to join us, but I guess…” his sentence trailed off, and he shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you?”

“Yeah, I hope---”

“MICHAEL!” A shorter, blonder and tanner version of Michael was jogging up to them, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, pushing his hair back.

As he approached the group, there was a collective gasp (from the two girls) and they both would have fallen over had Michael not stepped in to make introductions and put them at ease.

“Ian, this is Sydney and Adelaide.” He gestured grandly with his hand, indicating the two girls; they were standing together, their mouths open in shock and their faces pale under the moonlight.

“You’re Ian Thorpe,” Adelaide whispered in awe.

“That I am.” Ian flashed them a heart-melting grin. “Hello, there. What did you say your names were?”

“Adelaide,” she choked out, pounding her chest to make her vocal cords work properly.

He cocked his head to the side. “Isn’t that a city in Australia?”

“Yes, I believe it is,” she replied resolutely. “That’s Sydney. Which is another city in Australia.”

“Are those your real names? Or stage names?” Ian joked.

“Real,” Sydney answered, clearing her throat. “Our mothers were…ah…fans of Australia.”

“I see,” Ian nodded, grinning. “Well, Mike, you’ve found a good pair of sheilas here. Bring ‘em in and introduce ‘em round.”

Adelaide’s eyes widened; Sydney dug her fingernails into her palm and clamped down on her bottom lip, and Michael bit his tongue to keep from laughing at their reactions.

Ian extended his arm to Adelaide. “Shall we?”

“I think you should know that we were about to steal your underwear,” she blurted out, one step away from grabbing onto his arm and holding on for dear life.

Ian’s arm dropped and he stared at them. “Oh! You’re the two Michael were talking about this morning!”

“He was talking about us?” Sydney asked, clearly pleased.

“Mmm, yes. He said you tried to steal my underwear. Not ones I wore, but ones I sold.” Ian shrugged. “You can have a few pairs if you want them that badly. I’d hate to have you revert to subterfuge just to get your hands on my underroos.”

“He said underroos,” Sydney whispered, trying hard not to squeal.

Michael burst out laughing, then turned his laugh into a hacking cough; he bent over trying to stop, but found he couldn’t. The situation was just too funny to him.

Sydney watched him curiously. “I’m so glad that our misfortune is funny to you, Mr. Phelps.”

“What misfortune?” Adelaide asked, trying to ignore the fact that Ian’s t-shirt sleeve had just shifted in the light breeze and brushed against her bare arm.

Apparently, Sydney had not thought the comment through properly. “Um. Well. The misfortune that we’re…um…insane. And underwear fiends.”

Michael, who up until now had finally had his laughter under control, began coughing again with the force of the new onslaught of giggles.

“You better stop talking before you kill him,” Ian remarked, helping Michael to stand up straight; he hit him on the back a few times and then turned back to the girls.

“So are you up for a bit of partying?” He asked, a grin on his lips.

“I am,” Adelaide piped up, taking his proffered arm before she blurted out anymore odd secrets.

“I think I’m going to go to bed, actually,” Sydney said, producing a yawn.

Adelaide looked at her like she’d lost her mind, Ian frowned and Michael looked perplexed. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. You go on ahead.” She waved Adelaide and Ian off and was left standing in the middle of a dark and empty street with Michael Phelps. As she had not previously been on her own with him, she was suddenly unnerved.

He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end; she resisted the urge to laugh and instead settled for smiling fondly at him.

“I can walk you back if you want,” he offered gallantly, gesturing up the street.

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to pull you away from the celebrating.”

Michael chuckled. “It’s okay, really. I should get some sleep. I’ve got an early swim in the morning.” He yawned, and then groaned. “Again.”

Sydney laughed, nodded, and started walking towards the hotel.

“I wouldn’t think an avid fan of Ian Thorpe would pass up the opportunity to party with him,” Michael said slyly, watching Sydney out of the corner of his eye. “Or are you just interested in his underwear?”

She laughed. “No, I really am just tired.” After a pause, she added, “And I’m really not a partier.”

“No? I guess I’m not either. But it depends. Sometimes I just need to let loose.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” They walked a bit in silence. “I hope Adelaide won’t have her honor corrupted. I probably shouldn’t have left her alone with an international sex symbol.”

Michael couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, so he settled on a short chuckle. “I think she’ll be okay. And, anyway, there’s tons of condoms here.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow, and turned to look at him. “Yes, I’d heard that. It’s true then.”

Michael nodded seriously. “Wouldn’t want another mishap like in Sydney.” He cast her a smirk. “No pun intended.”

“Of course not,” she laughed. “What mishap was that?”

“When a bunch of condoms had to be shipped in.”

“Wow, athletes really aren’t that different from rock stars.”

Michael tipped his head back and laughed. “I guess not. Some of us, anyway.”

“You’re not a rock star?” Sydney asked in a disbelieving voice.

“Nah.” He shook his head and swiped a hand over his mouth. “I’m a swimmer.”

“Who happens to be adored all around the world,” Sydney teased, bumping her hip into his to show she was kidding.

“Yeah, well, what can ya do?” He spread his arms wide and gave her a mischievous grin. Like one might receive from an international sex symbol with self-deprecating tendencies.

She jabbed her thumb at the hotel door, which they had just arrived in front of. “This is me.” Smiling, she reached up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. “Good night, you rock star, you.”