Gina yawned as she arrived at work; somehow she's been struck by the most severe bout of insomnia she'd ever encountered. Not only had next to no sleep but her car was making continually unhealthy noises and she had the feeling it was going to die somewhere quite annoying in the near future. Gina stepped into the elevator and leaned against the side, she felt a headache starting and wondered whether she'd be able to escape work early.
          "Finally," Amanda beamed as the doors opened. Gina frowned at her. "My office, I want details."
          Too tired to argue, Gina followed Amanda to her office and was annoyed to find Danny already there in a padded chair looking expectant. Amanda got comfortable at her desk and turned the radio on.
          "So, how did it go?" Amanda perked. "Have you not slept?"
          "I called him an arse," Gina declared blankly. "And no I haven't."
          "Don't be coy with me," Amanda ordered. "I want details or I'll force work on you."
          "Fine, he was late and I told him off. I couldn't bring myself to ask him some inane questions so I talked him into going to the art gallery. We went for a drink, he confessed to liking me and I told him I wanted to smother him in chocolate. That enough detail for you?" Gina sighed.
          "Are you seeing him again?" Danny perked.
          "Well, he did ask me out for tonight, but I won't keep my hopes up," Gina shrugged.
          "This is Paul McDermott you have to go, I want details," Amanda gushed.
          "If he calls me I will," Gina mused.
          "Of course he'll call you. He's cute and bitter, you're cute and bitter…" Amanda perked.
          "I have the feeling you're ultimately more excited by this than I am," Gina chided and leaned forward. "I'd go so far as to say that you're the one with the obsession."
          "She's got a point," Danny nodded.
          "Now, if the mother's meeting is over, I really have an article to finish on dogs," Gina breathed.
          "Oh don't worry about that, Daniel will do it won't you?" Amanda smiled looking over at Danny who looked annoyed with the suggestion. "Go on," she added.
          Danny let out a huff and begrudgingly left Amanda's office. Gina felt terrible and promised herself she'd buy him lunch providing Amanda didn't have her tied to chair while being whipped by a large man in a gimp mask until she confessed more.
          "You were wrong," Paul declared, marching into the studio at Triple J, where he forced himself out of bed early every Friday to do an hour of the breakfast show with Mikey. The news was being played and Mikey, Jen Oldershaw the female co-host and Steve Abbot a.k.a. the Sandman all looked up shocked.
          Mikey checked his watch. "You're an hour early?" he gasped.
          "You were wrong," Paul said again.
          "Right, well while Paul has some sort of breakdown, I'm getting coffee," Jen declared and excused herself.
          "Wrong about what mate?" Mikey asked, bewildered.
          "Have you seen the paper?" Paul asked.
          "I've seen several," Mikey shrugged.
          "The Herald, have you seen the Herald?"
          "Yeah, it’s somewhere around here," Mikey declared, fumbling through the mass of papers on the desk in front of him. "Here it is."
          Paul grabbed it and pulled all the pages out. "See no article, I told you she wouldn't but no, you had to put some weird arse image in my head that she was a devil woman and not to be trusted."
          "I have no idea what this conversation is about," Steve piped up. "But just because I'm feeling left out I'm going to say that the article could be in tomorrow's paper."
          Paul glared at Steve; "Do you want that Styrofoam cup inserted somewhere unpleasant?"
          "Don't get shitty with me, Mikey's still here," Steve grumbled.
          Paul focussed his attention back on Mikey who just seemed amused, "Fine, she's not a devil woman. I still think you should get to know her a bit more before you decide you're going to have her children."
          "Gee thanks for the advice mum," Paul huffed as Jen reappeared.
          "I'm still confused," she shrugged and took her seat.
          "Go fuck off and come back when you're needed," Mikey jeered.
          Paul's face fell; "I don't know where to go?"
          "Go to sleep on the couch?" Steve suggested, motioning to the couch in the corner. "It's what you usually do."
          "Right," Paul nodded as the darkened sign turned to red 'on air.'

          "Please can I go now," Gina groaned. "If you feed me anymore tea my bladder will burst."
          "But he won't finish on the radio for another twenty minutes," Amanda declared.
          "I'm past caring," Gina sighed as Amanda turned up the radio more.

          "It's twenty to nine, you're listening to Triple J…what have you got planned for the weekend little fella?"
          "Nothing."
          "You always say nothing."
          "Get stuffed Sandy."
          "Why do you always pick on me?"
          "Because you shit me."
          "I think we should go to a song before Paul and Sandy start to brawl…what is the next song anyway?"
          "No Aphrodisiac mate by The Whitlams, they rock, go and see them."
          "Any special reason?"
          "Paul's got a girlfriend."
          "Right, you're a deadshit."
          "Ow, you didn't have to throw your pen at me."
          "Here's No Aphrodisiac by The Whitlams folks…can someone help me separate those two…"

          Amanda looked at Gina and raised an eyebrow as the song came over the radio.
          "It means nothing," Gina said unconvincingly.
          "It's your favorite song," Amanda countered.
          "So, I never told him," Gina cussed. "Oh but it was playing in my car…"
          "See, I knew it, he likes you."
          "It proves nothing."
          "He's playing your favorite song on the radio."
          "Do you want me to hurt you?" Gina cussed and lobbed at pen in Amanda's direction.
          "You do realise you've just done exactly what he did?" Amanda grinned.
          Gina shot to her feet, "You know I…I just…It's not that…" She paused to gather her thoughts. "We're not friends anymore."
          "I want details about your date!" Amanda called as Gina marched out of her office.

          By the time Gina arrived home from work she realised she'd spent most of her day watching her cell phone and hoping it would ring. It hadn't and she miserably concluded that she'd been right. Paul had only been nice to get her on his side. Gina was tempted to retaliate by writing some nasty article about him, deeming him a boring little man with a cardigan fetish but realised she wasn't actually angry, just disappointed. She looked around her empty apartment and decided that the only way to compensate would be to get into her pajamas early, drink lots of hot chocolate and watch endless chick flicks. Gina dropped her bag into an armchair and noticed the opened TV guide underneath.
          "Oh god, he's on at eight," she groaned. "If I believed in omens…"

          Paul swaggered up to the bar in a quiet drinking spot and slid onto a barstool. He was pissed off and confused. Sure, Mikey had a few valid points. Gina was a journalist and couldn't be trusted with his public persona let alone small children, but she was also the most incredible woman he'd ever met. Sure, he had a habit of falling in love more easily than he farted but that wasn't the point. Gina treated him like a human being, wasn't impressed by his fame and she had breasts that he could rest his head on or in-between "What you drinking?" asked the bartender.
          "Huh?" Paul muttered and pulled himself from his thoughts. "Vodka and gimmie a shot glass."
          The bartender passed Paul a bottle of vodka and a shot glass and he downed a shot, then took several mouthfuls from the bottle and another two shots.
          "Steady on mate," the bartender mused.
          "Do I call her?" Paul said blankly.
          "Call who?" the bartender asked as he took to polishing some glasses.
          "This girl, woman actually. I met her yesterday and can't get her out of my head," Paul sighed. He leaned over the bar closer to the bartender. "She's like a, a cyclone man. She appeared from nowhere, blew me away and left me totally fucked."
          "Did she make you wet? Cyclones bring rain?" the bartender said bluntly.
          "No and she didn't make me gassy either," Paul replied. "So do I call her?"
          "Do you want to call her?"
          "You're not making this any easier," Paul huffed sitting back. "I mean, she could be the one."
          "If you don't call her mate, you'll never know."
          "But she might screw me and ruin my career too." Paul pouted.
          "If I call her will you shut up and leave?"
          "You’re a mean bartender," Paul huffed and downed another two shots.

          "Oh Patrick Swayze can dirty dance with me anytime," Gina mused as her cell phone rang. She grabbed it absent mindedly as her eyes stayed focussed on a shirtless Patrick Swayze. "Hello."
          "Gina, I dialed the right number…right?"
          "Paul?"
          "Yeah, sorry it's so loud. I'm at a bar and it’s surfie theme night."
          "Why are you at a bar with a surfie theme night?"
          "I don't know, the vodka's cheap."
          "Ok, are you ringing for any particular reason or just because you're half tanked?"
          "I thought we were going on a date?"
          "It's 9:30pm!"
          "What? You have to go to bed or something? Your mum check up on you?"
          "No, that's just wrong."
          "So, come join me at the bar."
          "But I…It's…I'm…"
          "Unable to make a sentence?"
          "I'll have to rearrange my entire night now."
          "How hard can that be. Turn off the chick flick, put the mug down and get your glad rags on."
          "Shut up!"
          "If you don't come down here I'll keep ringing until you do."
          "I'll turn my phone off."
          "I'll find out where you live and drag you out to a bar in your pajamas."
          "I'll get a restraining order."
          A man who was yelling out an order for 'Pina Coladas' and the collective screams of 'yes' from the crowd marred Paul's next response.
          "What on earth?"
          "Genie you gotta save me from these Hawaiian shirt wearing freaks before they start attacking me with leis."
          Gina was about to reply when something occurred to her, had he just called her 'Genie?' It was probably because of the alcohol coursing through his system but still, it was cute.
          "You there?"
          "Yeah, where else would I be?"
          "Well here, if you'd stop procrastinating and started being fucking spontaneous."
          Gina giggled, "Ok, I'll save you. What's the address."
          "No idea, I'll ask the barman."
          "What am I letting myself in for." Gina sighed as she heard Paul yell out to the barman.

          It was an hour later when Gina found the bar. She'd been forced to raid her wardrobe for something to wear. How do you dress to accommodate a Hawaiian theme night with the possibility of going somewhere else? Eventually she chose black pants and boots, along with the dressiest top she could find, which ended up being one with an embroidered devil on it, and a light jacket. She cursed herself for not having had time to shop or wash in the last week. As Gina walked from the carpark she could hear the Beach Boys’ Kokomo resonating from the bar.
          "Good god," she breathed as she stepped inside and encountered a series of people in bright clothing with equally bright drinks that had tiny umbrellas lolling about in them. It took only a quick glance around to find Paul. He was the only other non-Hawaiian shirt clad person in the venue.
          "They're playing ‘Kokomo’," Gina said blankly as she slid onto the barstool opposite him. "Oh they're playing all the classics," Paul groaned as “Surf City” started up. He looked Gina up and down. "Mikey said you were a devil woman."
          "What?" Gina mused. "No more drinkies for Pauly," she added and took the bottle of vodka away from him.
          "Mikey said you were a devil woman," Paul reiterated, playing with his shot glass. "And your shirt just confirms it."
          "Huh? Oh," Gina smiled. "I don't want to know why Mikey thinks I'm a devil woman."
          "I don't care what Mikey says," Paul smiled. "I'm going to have your children."
          Gina was about to offer to get him a taxi home when Paul leaned across and surprised her by bringing his lips to hers. Gina felt like she had been struck with a sudden sugar high as she found herself drawn toward him. His hands moved gently under her jacket while one of hers rested on his shoulder; the other entwined in his hair. The intense kiss only ending when Gina slid completely off her barstool and had to grab the bar to stop herself falling onto the floor.
          "You ok?" Paul breathed, looking more stunned than anything else.
          "I don't know," Gina replied, finding it impossible to draw her attention from him.
          "I want to apologise…"
          "This kiss was fine, no problems there," Gina said quickly as she moved back onto her barstool.
          "That's great, but that's not why I'm apologising."
          "Oh?"
          "No, I'm sorry that the only thing that ruined the moment was the fucking Beach Boys."
          Gina broke into a slightly embarrassed smile, "That's true, let's just hope ‘Wouldn't it Be Nice’ doesn't resurface when we have sex." Her smile fell. "Can't believe I just said that."
          Paul chuckled, "Do you hear me complaining?"
          "I can't hear anything but surf songs."
          "Let's leave then," Paul perked and jumped off his barstool with renewed enthusiasm. He grabbed Gina's hand and guided her from the bar, through the drunken Hawaiian shirt brigade outside into the cool night air.
          "Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true. Baby then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do…" Paul sang quietly. "I'm never gonna get that fucking song out of my head."
          "I can beat it out of you," Gina mused raising an eyebrow.
          "Please, don't let me stop you," Paul grinned and stepped closer to her.
          "Idiot," Gina sighed as they attempted another kiss only to be whooped at by a group of drunken young men who were passing.
          "Get stuck into her mate," declared one of the men.
          "She's not a Happy Meal," Paul replied and the giggled. "Speaking of which, you hungry?"
          "It's nearly 11pm!"
          "You do realise you have an annoying time keeping habit?"
          "I can't sleep with a full stomach," Gina pouted.
          "Who said anything about sleeping babe?" Paul grinned, taking her hand again and leading her away from the bar.

          "Don't forget where that bar is. My car is back there," Gina declared after she'd been dragged several blocks away.
          "What bar?" Paul asked blankly and Gina looked pained. "Joking."
          "My car means a lot to me you know."
          "That bomb? The only thing it means to you is more bills."
          "Oh shut up," Gina mused and gave him a small shove. "Where are we?"
          "A little place I know and one of the best places for a late night feed," Paul perked as he stopped himself from tumbling into a bin. They wandered into a small, dark eatery that Gina found surprisingly busy for that hour but then she thought anyone out that late was mad anyway. Paul picked a table near the rear of the place and grabbed the menu.
          "Sorry babe, no chocolate sauce related items on the menu," he declared.
          "What makes you think I'd want chocolate sauce?" Gina asked confused.
          "Yesterday, you said you wanted to cover me in chocolate sauce. I was just making sure the option was viable in case you decided to do it spur of the moment."
          Gina looked at him shocked and then realised she had to change her expression to something else, "I don't need chocolate sauce to do nasty things to you."
          "I'll keep that in mind," Paul smiled wickedly.
          "I'll keep it somewhere else," Gina countered and snatched the menu off him. They were eyeing each other off when a waiter appeared and placed a large chocolate cake between them.
          "Congratulations!" he perked and wandered off again.
          Paul raised an eyebrow and Gina leaned over to get a closer look at the cake. "Oh hey, it's now our 30th anniversary."
          "Fuck me, that went quick," Paul mused and looked around at the other patrons, an older gentleman was making his way over.
          "Sorry, I think you've been given our cake," he chuckled. "So much for romance hey?"
          "So it seems," Paul smiled.
          "I'm concerned that they think we look old enough to have been married 30 years," Gina mused. "No offense to you sir."
          "No offense taken," the man sighed. "I took the wife to the theatre to celebrate, thought this cake might be a nice surprise."
          "You old devil," Paul chided. "Is that your wife because I think she's coming over?"
          Paul, Gina and the man all looked at the woman who was approaching. She looked completely baffled.
          "What's going on James," she declared and then looked curiously at Paul. "Aren't you?"
          "Yes," Paul replied quickly. "So can we not make a scene and just remove the cake?"
          "I'm still offended that we were mistaken as a couple that'd been married 30 years when it’s only our first date," Gina mused.
          "Well I think it would only be right that we share the cake," the woman smiled.
          "Now there's an idea," Paul smiled and looked at Gina. "Can you handle some cake?"
          "It's chocolate, of course I can. Chocolate above all other foods can be eaten at any time."
          "You're full of shit you know that?" Paul smiled and whistled loudly to attract a waiter. "Can we have some plates over here mate."

          "Do you think it's an omen?" Gina asked as she ate a forkful of cake. "What?" Paul asked, dipping his finger in the butter cream icing. "The anniversary cake," Gina mused. "Think we'll be together 30 years?
         " Paul looked at her amused as he sucked the butter cream from his finger, "Well if my track record is anything to go by I doubt it. Thirty days maybe."
          "Why, what did your last girlfriend dump you for?"
          Paul looked sheepish, "A little sleeping with her friend incident."
          "Slut," Gina chided.
          "So why'd your last boyfriend dump you?"
          "What makes you think he dumped me?"
          "I thought that'd be obvious?"
          Gina fell opened mouthed and retaliated by flicking butter cream at Paul.
          "Bitch," he giggled. "Go on, tell me."
          "He went back to his wife."
          Paul narrowed his eyes; "You're a dark horse."
          Gina laughed and leaned back in her seat. "I can't eat anymore cake."
          "You've only had three slices."
          "I'll never sleep now," Gina pouted. "What are we doing next?"
          Paul pretended to think for a moment. "What else do you do on first date?" he declared. "We've done the bar thing, and the food…Dancing, we have to go dancing."
          "Dancing but it's…" Gina stopped herself from announcing the time. "Time to go dancing," she sighed.
          "Could you be more enthusiastic?" Paul jeered.
          "What do you want me to do? Run around the room cheering loudly."
          "No, that would just be embarrassing. I'd have to tell people you were mad or something." Gina flicked more butter cream at him. "Right, on your feet, we're leaving. We'll try and use up some of that excess energy of yours.
          "Oh is that was it is. Silly me thinking it was fatigue," Gina mumbled as Paul led her back into the street.

          "I should warn you now I hate clubbing," Gina declared as she held tightly onto Paul as a means of keeping herself away from the rather large amounts of drunk and homeless people that were emerging.
          "We're not going to a club," Paul replied. "You hate clubbing?"
          "Yeah, I've never clubbed or pubbed for that matter. I find that it’s an activity reserved for sad, lonely people who get some sort of perverse pleasure out of gyrating against someone in a tiny little outfit in the dark."
          "I'm not seeing a problem." Paul shrugged. "What about the music?"
          "It's not music, it's electronically created bullshit or Kylie Minogue. Either way it gives me a headache."
          "Do you have any fun in your life?"
          "No, not really."
          "It shows, " Paul scorned. "So, why don't you pub?"
          "I don't drink alcohol," Gina replied bluntly.
          Paul stopped dead on the pavement. "I went to Catholic school for years, I went to church on Sundays, I even sang hymns and what happens? God gets revenge by giving me my perfect woman, her only flaw being the inability to do anything even vaguely fun."
          Gina narrowed her eyes, "Oh please, at least I don't replace human contact, emotional and physical bonds by getting drunk and defensive."
          "I'm not drunk and defensive," Paul huffed.
          Gina raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "Why are you dragging me all over town huh? Because you can't sit down and have a fucking conversation."
          "I can have a conversation, I just don't want one with you."
          "Gee thanks."
          Paul's face fell, "I just wanted us to have a decent first date. I'm not very good at dating." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "So back off."
          Gina looked at Paul's pathetic expression, he realised she was looking and made his eyes even more doe like. She instantly moved toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
          "You're such a child," Gina sighed.
          "It usually helps me get laid, but I somehow don't think it’s going to work on you."
          Gina shook her head; "Can you handle that I'm not a drinker or a party animal?" she asked, brushing her lips against his.
          Paul was speechless for a moment, "Of course. Mind you, you could ask me to chase parked cars right now and I would."
          "I'm going to assume that's a good thing." Paul nodded with a blank expression before she kissed him again. He realised other than the fact you shouldn't think while kissing, that all she had to do was look at him and he was under her complete control. That had never, ever happened before but there was nothing he could do, he was at her mercy.
          "So you’re taking me dancing?" Gina breathed, her lips barely apart from his.
          "Yeah," Paul gasped. "Mostly because there's a guy just behind us staring and it's really, really putting off." They both looked over to see a man in a woollen hat swaying on the spot and staring with a glazed expression.
          "He's not wearing any pants is he?" Gina swallowed.
          "Just keep walking and don't look back," Paul breathed and they started walking as quickly as they could.