Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 9

There was an awkward silence as Gemma stared at her own reflection in the mirror of her bathroom, eyes wide at the way she'd treated herself for this one night. Her hair had been taken up from its usual lanky style and wrapped up around her head in curls and braids that looked anything but English, her eyes had been touched up lightly by some makeup she had rediscovered hiding in her bathroom cabinets, and her nicer clothes pulled from the abyss of her closet. She looked great and couldn't believe it.

Mike wondered if three minutes late was going to irk Gemma in the least bit, but he decided that it was probably safe enough to get out of the bloody car and knock on the door. He scowled at his cast, however far he'd gone to cover it up with his shirt and jacket. There he stood, outside the car and totally inept at what happened next. His time getting ready had been less harried, but more thoughtful. He considered where they were going, since he was the one doing the driving, and decided that his khaki pants were going to have to be enough for that night. The light navy button-up shirt he'd pulled on over the plain white t-shirt was a nice look with a casual feel. He stared at the mop of hair hanging in his eyes and shrugged; it wasn't like he was going to get a haircut in the next ten minutes. A runthrough with a comb and a little bit of a thougtful tug on his tucked in shirt before he grabbed his light jacket and bolted, forgetting to remind his dog not to make a mess of the house.

He walked up to the door and sighed, wondering if he should just have a heart attack now and get it over with.

Zilla mewled weakly at Gemma as she still stared at herself in the mirror, wondering if this was someone completely different or if it was the old Gemma bursting through again. There was a shy knock on the door that jolted her gaze from the mirror. She eyed her reflection once more with a bit of a grimace before walking fearlessly to the door and tossing it open.

"Hey!" She smiled and stepped back, letting him warm up while she gathered the last few feminine type things she'd need.

He stepped inside and glanced once again at the cat that immediately ran her side along his leg.

Gemma smiled at his pleasantly surprised face before stepping back into her bedroom. "I'll just be a moment." She said, turning on the entryway light so he could see better.

"Alright, I guess I'll wait here then," he grinned and shrugged as she threw a sarcastically concerned face over her shoulder.

Seizing her small black shoulder bag, she took a deep breath and draped her denim jacket over her arm before walking back to the brightly lit entryway for judgment.

She walked into the small corridor and stood nervously before him while he ran a gaze over her and smiled. There was a pounding beat in Gemma's ears as he stepped back a bit and visibly ran his eyes over every single part of her outfit and her face. His jaw was set, however, which made her wonder about his opinion.

"You look great," he said finally, looking up into her eyes and smirking slightly. "As if I expected something worse," he added sarcastically. He had to say something so she wouldn't realize that he had been staring in awe the past ten seconds. He had been forced to clamp his jaw tightly to prevent it from falling open and revealing that he was practically drooling over her. Whatever she had done to herself to dress up for the night had done nothing short of magic. What the baggy t-shirts and loose fitting bell-bottoms missed about her figure and slim shape, this set of flared navy slacks and white blouse accented. The sarcasm used had been a cover for his stare, and a compliment. Squeaked by that one, he mused.

She sighed relievedly and looked him over as well. She had to say that he did wear the plain button-up shirts well, and even the styless hair style he'd chosen was adorable. She grinned at him and shook her pink face.

"Let's go before I get claustrophobia." She said finally, stepping out into the chilly October air. He followed suit, closing the door and listening to make sure the lock caught. They walked out to the car, where Mike, being the gentleman he was, opened and closed the door for her and leaped into his side with an unruly whoop.

He turned to her, a boyish grin. "Now that formalities are over, we're going to tear up this town, I tell you what!"

She laughed and pointed down the narrow street. "To London!"

He howled wildly and took off with a small screech of rubber. There was nothing good on the radio so they talked. They talked about all sorts of things; pets, mishaps that happened while getting ready for past dates, jobs they'd once had, weddings they'd attended, and children they'd babysat or had to watch for any amount of time.

"Yeah, my Aunt has eight kids, and her sister has four, so whenever I was there-being eight years older than the youngest kid-I would babysit all twelve. Five on diapers, three in training for the real thing, and four that had to be locked up or they'd be bouncing off the walls." She rolled her eyes, remembering all of her cousins' antics.

Mike gaped. "Eight kids? Christ, they must have been a very happy couple."

Gemma nodded. "Yeah, and having a huge house with lots of money doesn't hurt."

"This is true," Mike answered.

She turned to him. "Do you have any siblings?"

"I have an older sister, Angela." He responded, turning to her in curiosity. "You?"

She sighed. "Eight older brothers and a younger sister."

He gaped again. "Ten kids? What?!"

Grinning with a tiny bit of pride, Gemma nodded. "Yup, ten kids. And all ten of us went to college. At least nine of us did, I'm not sure if Sarah did go."

He squinted. "You're not sure?"

She squirmed. "I haven't spoken to any of them in about seven years."

Obviously having touched some soft spot, Mike backed off. "I see," he tried to sound more like an adult.

She laughed, throwing off his attempt. "I bet you don't!"

"Well, I didn't want to press on something depressing or anything; I was playing it safe!" He defended.

She turned to him suddenly. "I was kicked out of my house at age seventeen, I haven't seen any of my family since with the rare exception of my cousin Noah. That's the truth."

Mike was at a loss at what to do. He didn't want to ask why though he wanted to know, and he didn't want to try to talk her into or out of anything she was feeling at that moment, so he stayed quiet.

She laughed nervously. "Please tell me I didn't just ruin the evening."

"No, I don't think that's possible. I just didn't know what to say." He responded with a friendly smile.

She sighed. "Well I was waiting for a 'why?' or 'wow, that sucks' but seeing that I didn't get one, I guess you really don't need to know 'why' or anything."

"I wanted to know, but it's not my place to pry so I didn't ask, that's all." He responded after a minute or so of mulling over her comment.

Gemma cast her eyes down. "Thanks for that, then. I shouldn't have mentioned it; I really don't feel like talking about it anymore anyway."

He elbowed her weakly. "I wouldn't want to either, so don't worry about it. Now, if possible let's cheer up."

She smiled brightly. "I can do that."

Mike parked under a brightly lit street lamp in hopes of not having to both search for the car and wander around in the dark alleys of downtown London with another girl he cared about. He offered an arm to his lady before continuing his steady gait down the sidewalk.

They walked around the outskirts of the town before turning rather abruptly and randomly onto a brightly lit avenue that led directly through the heart of the tourist shops. Gemma stopped every so often, just to look at the wonderful little gifts and baubles that were in the windows of the shops. There were a few very specific things she tried to look for but only ended up being distracted by some other shiny object lurking in the window.

"What are you looking for?" Mike finally asked, seeing another disappointed glance at another window.

She looked up guiltily. "My friend Meredith called and she mentioned something about getting a chrome teakettle, so I was looking out for one since she and I were planning on meeting up on Saturday afternoon."

He nodded. "So, why chrome?"

"I'm not sure, I haven't spoken to her in ages, so I just thought I'd look for one." She shrugged. As they walked she continued her glances in the windows.

An hour of fruitless glancing led to dinner in a small Mediterranean restaurant. Both were glad to be out from the cold and off their feet as they slid into a booth. They ordered and sat in a normal quiet, listening to the small jukebox (quite contradictory to the aura of the eatery) blaring Beatles and Led Zeppelin.

The food was great, the talk was still enlightening, and the rest perfect. Mike had to hide the bill from Gemma in the end though.

"C'mon! I at least need to see what I'm worth on this thing!" She whined.

He shook his head, holding the slip of paper just out of her reach. "No! I told you, this is my treat tonight!"

A few neighboring tables watched curiously as she grabbed for the bill and he held it away, poking his tongue out. He paid in full, tip and all before wrestling her out the door.

"Not that hard, is it?" He asked, turning with a serious look only disturbed by his dancing eyes.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding? I hate surprises; that will haunt me for weeks!"

Mike sighed and shook his head, walking down the lighted sidewalk with a thoughtful bounce in his step. Gemma was about to slip her arm from his to turn around and face away from the chilled wind when his hand jumped up and poked her side. She let out an unearthly squeal and leapt away as though she had been burned.

Her date stood innocently, eyes wide and smile showing through. "Are you ticklish, Gemma?"

Gemma shook her head ferociously, eyes darting. "Just startled me, that's all."

He lunged and grabbed her waist with a small battle cry, relishing as she let out another shriek and tried to pry loose with laugh-weakened hands. She broke free just barely and made a wild break for the car, only a block away. He gave a close chase however, and managed to catch her again just as she rounded the last corner of the block. He seized her arm and spun her around. Gemma immediately threw her arms around her stomach to protect the vital areas, laughter escaping her lips even though he only stood over her. With a not so sure approach, he reached down and squeezed her knee once, grinning as her hands abandoned their post at her stomach and both jumped to her knee.

"No! Michael, please stop!" She panted as he alternately moved from her knees to her stomach to her sides over and over again.

He stopped and held her close in a moment of affection. She rested her head on his shoulder, panting as her breath caught up with her and her frantic movements stirred to a stop. He was a warm presence, pressed up against her front and face, keeping her warm and safe at the same time. She sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist. She pulled her head away slowly, an evil grin surfacing.

"What's that for, Thompson?" Mike's eyes danced even more boyishly.

She jabbed his side once and laughed as he jerked away with a squeak, arms both grabbing the culprit in a frenzy. She laughed again as he watched her other hand with a nervous jumpiness in his face as she faked lunging for his torso several times.

He jerked away again as she struck for a second time, catching him completely off guard. "Truce!"

"Okay, truce!" She agreed as he threatened her ignoring of his first plea with a hand across her stomach. He gave a final pinch before darting into the car. She flopped inside on the other side and pressed against the door, feigning that she no longer trusted him. He faked a stretch and rather conspicuously laid a hand across her knee.

She knocked it away with a giggle. "I'm watching you, Palin."

Mike laughed. "Oh, but you forget I know where you live."

"I know where you sleep and I have a man-eating cat. I win." She said flatly, turning away. She was jerked rather rudely back into the real world as he poked her side again.

He grabbed her hands as she attempted to exact her revenge on the almost just as ticklish Michael. "Truce, seriously now!"

Gemma squinted. "No more funny business, promise?"

He smiled earnestly. "Do I look like the type that goes back on his word?"

Slowly but surely her tongue poked out of her mouth as if saying, "Yes, yes you do."

The drive back to Gemma's house was entertaining if not annoying. Constantly on guard from the other in an almost paranoid state, the two traded battle cries and flashy insults all the ten minutes drive to her small home. With a heavy reluctance Mike threw the car into park and sat staring at Gemma as she stared at her house morosely.

He climbed out and opened the door, still being a gentleman in a way for her. She took his hand and slipped out of the car, popping up with a bright smile. He smiled back and tried not to let his expression emit that he was sad that the night was already over.

Gemma walked up to her front door, Mike at her side as her shoes clipped dully on the pavement. She unlocked the door and turned to him, a grin on her face.

"That was fun, thanks a lot, Michael."

His face, small smile still lying under the remorse, glowed. "I'm glad you had fun."

She pulled a money clip from her pocket along with a few guitar picks. She looked up with sudden horror.

An idea crept into Mike's mind. He faked disappointment and anger. "Oh, damnit, Gemma! We were so close, this close!" He held his fingers, about an inch apart for emphasis, in her face. Gemma's smile diminished as she watched with a startled expression.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He straightened up. "See, you brought money on a date, which is against the rules on a first date, therefore we're going to have to do this all over again and do it proper this time." His eyes danced playfully, hoping she'd take the bait and play along.

Her face twisted into a grimace. "Christ, another one? What did I do to deserve that?"

He licked the end of his finger and flipped open an imaginary notebook. "I'm afraid you'll have to take a ticket for this as well." He added sympathetically.

Gemma cursed her bad luck with some stomping of her feet. "Really? You couldn't let me off this time?"

"Nope, 'fraid not," he handed her the imaginary ticket after closing and replacing the imaginary notebook. Truth was, acting like he knew what he was doing made him feel less nervous about what he was getting at.

She stared at her extended hand. "Another date tomorrow, eh?"

"'Fraid so, ma'am. Also, you might want to note the fine at the bottom..." This was what he was waiting for.

She frowned, confused. "A fine too? And what's the price of this fine?"

He shuffled his feet. "Just a g'night kiss, Gem."

She smiled, looking up into his eyes with a sort of timid happiness. The smile passed quickly as she resumed grumbling. "And I suppose I'll need to pay these after every date, right?"

He grinned, overjoyed she had taken the bait and followed through with it. "Yup! In fact, you could pay your first installment tonight."

She looked up. "How many chances do I get for this 'proper' date thing, by the way?" She danced around on her toes.

"As many as it takes to get it right." He responded grimly. Gemma laughed and shook her head as Mike bounced around happily on the balls of his feet.

With a pleading look, she glanced into his eyes. "Do I really have to pay tonight?" She whined.

He nodded. "I'd be much obliged."

She rolled her eyes and took a sturdy stance. He tilted his head to the side to give her a clear path to his cheek, smiling with a joking expecting expression over his face. She said his name softly, which drew him to look at her, wondering if maybe he'd taken it a bit too far when he felt a soft warmth spread over his lips and he opened his eyes wider, seeing Gemma's face up close to his. He squeaked softly as she kissed him, wondering if that particular moment had to end. To reinforce the fact he didn't want the moment to end, his hand crept up and held her elbow close to his side with a tight grip. After a good moment, Gemma pulled back and smiled with a beet red face.

Mike stood, eyes wide and hand still clamped onto her elbow.

Gemma stood, wondering if the stare he gave her was out of like or dislike.

He leaned in and planted a kiss of his own on the corner of her mouth, clearly giving away just what she had done to him a few seconds prior.

She playfully stepped back as he pulled apart and gave him a look that was extremely ambiguous. "G'night, Michael."

He stared again, smiling slightly over it all.

"Call me tomorrow, anytime." She said, wishing he would say something.

"G'night, I will." He croaked finally, surprised that his voice had taken on such a sudden tone.

She smiled warmly. "I had a great time, thanks."

He waved as she closed the door reluctantly, racing back to his car, waiting for a good moment to jump into the air and whoop with joy.

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"Mike! Please!" Terry begged, dropping to his knees.

Sheepishly, the afore-mentioned Mike, shifted his feet and nodded. "Alright, sorry! I just couldn't remember-"

Eric yanked his hair. "Couldn't remember what you were doing?!"

"No!" Mike defended. "I forgot my line and then forgot if I was facing left or right, John writes stage and Terry writes directorial."

Terry slapped his forehead. "You face stage left and say your line! It's five words! Get it right so we can go home already!"

Gil snickered. "Bye guys!"

There were a few catcalls and even a few things thrown at the retreating Python. He made it to the door after being berated heavily with paper cups and a mop.

Mike finally nailed his line, thus ending the already over-done taping session. Terry wrapped him upside the head as they exited, leaving Mike's pride hurt and his already sensitive skull battered up again.

"Owwww!" He whined, grabbing the front of his head, checking to make sure the stitches that were coming out later hadn't ripped part of his scalp off.

John rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, Mike."

He pouted his lip and slumped to his car, eyeing his watch with a ferocity; he was going to be late calling Gemma. The others hadn't even asked him how the whole thing had gone, only noted he was extremely bouncy and easily distracted all day. Finally Eric could wait no longer and stopped him, much to the chagrin of the already fretting figure retreating to his car.

"So, how'd it go last night?" He asked. Terry leaned up against Mike's car as well, folding his arms with a smile.

The owner of the car peered around the group. "Why surround me? Am I in trouble?"

Terry coughed gently. "Answer the question, Mike. Before one of us gets hurt."

He snickered, shaking his head to flip the hair out of his eyes. "It went great. Perfect, everything was fine."

Graham did a sort of "Aaaand?" gesture with his hands along with an inquisitive stare.

"You guys are amazing, really." He said sarcastically, turning to open his door.

Eric refused to move. "Hey, come on! We just want to know what happened!"

John spoke up with a squinted eye. "He doesn't want to tell us." He straightened up, well above Mike's head with an intimidating stare. "You'll tell us though, won't you?"

It was more of a statement. Mike groaned. "I need to go call her, I'll tell you later..." He whined.

Eric waved this off quickly. "We'll let you go, just skip to the dirt; did she kiss you goodbye?"

Mike glanced around slowly at the eager eyes of his friends wondering why they cared so much. He answered slowly, "Yes."

There was a hushed look around the small group as Terry continued Eric's questioning. "Where?"

He supressed a grin. "On her front porch?"

"No, where?" Terry pressed, waving a hand before his own face to show what he meant.

Trapped now, Mike only shrugged and smiled.

John sighed. "I'm sick of this; Eric, you tell me later. I'm out of here and Graham's my ride. Let's go." He tugged on Gray's shirt. They left with a heavy scowl at Mike, who tended to keep his secrets far longer than any man should.

"Look, we'll make this easy for you," Terry said, folding his arms again. "You just shake or nod your head, okay?"

Mike cocked his head.

Eric wrapped him upside the head softly again. "No, bad!"

Rubbing his head, Mike agreed he could at least shake or node his head before going.

"Cheek?"

Shake.

"Alright then, it was right on the mouth." Eric replied, turning away. Mike supressed yet another laugh as he toyed with them. He shook his head.

"Forehead?" Terry frowned.

Somehow Michael managed to bring a blush to his face. He shook his head again and yanked open his door, sliding inside.

Eric gasped. "Oh my God! You didn't!"

Leaving it with that, Mike pulled from the parking space and roared along the road with a laugh.

"God it's fun to mess with Eric," he said to himself as he pulled onto a small back road.

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Gemma answered her door with a sort of suspicious yank, hardly expecting Meredith to be standing there, just as she remembered her.

"Gemma!" The woman swooped in and hugged her tightly, smiling with a look that you can only get from childhood friends.

Taking Meredith's coat, Gemma finally spoke. "Meredith, you look great! How long has it been?"

She tossed her head back and laughed. "Nearly six months! Serves you right, too, leaving me and Tucker to sort things out; you always had the best advice, what happened?"

Gemma shrugged. "My job switched hours and I didn't feel like making hour long drives every weekend to solve marital problems."

"Fair enough; so, what do we want to do today?" Her energetic friend bounced on her feet, eyes sparkling in their deep brown color, brown hair matching perfectly.

Gemma squinted with a grin. "I was thinking a little volleyball somewhere, if we can find an indoor court."

Meredith grabbed Gemma's arm. "I know just the place! Do you have extra shorts for me?" She was already set in the mind they were going to go do it.

Gemma nodded and raced back into her room, Meredith only slightly behind her. They were out the door in five minutes, Gemma glad that she could still be so spontaneous. The two were almost twins; spontaneous and confident. Even their appearance made a few people assume that maybe they were related, but in the end they were still independent and yet still very attached.

They talked like only women can, about insensitive things sensitively. They bashed on former people they had gone to school with that they had despised, and even a few that they had liked.

"Mary Higgins contracted syphilis and died, can you believe it?" Meredith said suddenly, turning sober.

Gemma's mouth dropped open. "No way! She was a bitch, but she died?"

Her friend nodded fiercely. "She was dating this drug-king from Venezuela and she contracted it shortly after he broke up with her. She died like six months later."

"How horrible, is it bad I want to laugh?" She turned guiltily.

Meredith shrugged. "It was about five years ago; you're allowed to laugh but only because you made that remark about her someday dying from a sexually transmitted disease our junior year. Only one laugh, and only if you think you have dark enough humor to laugh at her misfortune." She answered wisely.

Gemma battled with her conscience for a moment before bursting out into a short laugh. "I TOLD her to stop sleeping around! I TOLD her!"

Meredith giggled. "Yeah, but still, it is a bad way to go."

She sobered immediately. "Yes, it is. I've seen it before."

The other girl turned to her. "Oh that's right, you're still a paramedic!"

They pulled into a large gym parking lot. Chatting as they walked in, a gym bag between them, they entered the humid building. It was sort of packed, people scurrying about to play basketball and swim in a small pool in the back. The girls changed and walked out into the volleyball and badminton court. They sneered slightly at the badminton players, purely for the fun of seeing them mess up while wondering what the hell was wrong with them.

There were three people on each side of the volleyball net, tossing a ball around and hitting it back and forth across the net expertly. Gemma jumped right in and requested a spot to play. The six agreed they could join and split them up so there were two teams of four. They started a proper game, Gemma and Meredith on one team with two girls their age versing four other slightly older people on the other side. The four on the opposite side were already in a league and felt haughty facing these other four misfits. They were wrong about an easy win.

"Sixteen four!" Meredith hollered, slamming another serve over the net. The other team scrambled for their positions and managed to slap it back across where Gemma slid along on her knees and passed the ball to a timid setter back to Meredith who slammed the ball down to one of the opposite team's blockers. Needless to say, the ball bounced softly on the gym floor a few feet from Gemma's head, where she had sprawled out after the timid setter had run her over. They lost the possession.

As the other team's server slapped a weak attempt into the net, Gemma's heart fluttered; it was her turn to show them she hadn't lost any of her old flare.

"Sixteen four!" She also cried before tossing the ball up above her head and slapping it as hard as she could. It flew just over the net with a wicked downward spin, knocking over the girl that tried to return it. There was a thump as she and the ball crumpled to the floor. She leapt up, embarrassed and indignant. She hurled the ball back to Gemma who stood stoically behind the service line.

"Game point!" She dribbled the ball once. It was yet another serve that barely made it over the net with a downward spin, but the kicker had been that the girl that could have easily returned the ball dived out of the way to avoid being hit with it, thus making Meredith and Gemma's team the victors.

They played few more games, in a much looser atmosphere. Gemma and many other team members switched sides in the middle of the plays, Meredith even managing to block her own spike somehow. Gemma returned a serve, blocked the spike from the pass, and returned to save her team from giving the other team a point. At one point it was Meredith and Gemma versus the other six players. They had a hard time passing, setting, and spiking with only two players, but they did get some pretty awesome points. With six players plotting against two, they did lose, but only by two points.

"That was fun," claimed one of the new friends they had gained playing at the gym.

Her friend nodded. "Yeah, we should do this once a week or something!"

Gemma nodded. "That would be so much fun!"

"I can drive an hour a week," Meredith pointed out to Gemma smugly, also signifying her approval of the idea.

The eight women clambored to the basketball court to rest and watch the men play basketball. At one point the men stopped playing to come up and talk to the girls, eyes wide as they eyed the sweaty girls that were perfectly happy being well-exposed to them.

One who said his name was Greg sat down heavily between Meredith and Gemma. "You looked drained," he said to the group. Gemma shook her head and stood up, snatching the basketball from the tall team member, Trent.

"I'm not, how about a little girls versus boys?" She grinned mischieviously.

It was settled, four on four, the men having ten people to switch out, and the girls having eight. Gemma and Meredith raced around the court, pulling every maneuver they knew, and still managing to make faults and fouls.

With a chaotic dribble between her legs, Gemma lunged around Greg and jumped, lightly tossing the bright orange ball into the basket. Olivia, a fellow team-mate cheered and gave her a high five. The next few scores were purely Olivia's, a star on her college basketball team. She was American, an exchange student for the semester from Michigan. Her friend Abigail was a complete mess on the court, but could pass in such odd places they almost always kept possession of the ball if she passed it.

Abigail held the ball meekly, waiting for Olivia to break free of her guard so she could hurl the ball between Trent's legs for the hundredth time to her waiting team-mate.

They lost miserably, a ten point difference between the scores. The guys insisted it had been somewhat of a challenge, and the girls had offered that they had been playing since noon and also didn't have as many players to switch out.

Greg had eyed Gemma with interest as she began to sing to cover up the men's gloating. She was singing with a loud voice, eyes clamped shut and voice raspy from shouting to team-mates, but it was still amazing. He wanted so badly to ask her out, she was so friendly and energetic.

His idea fell apart quickly as Meredith poked her in the side. "So, you finally get out of the house?"

"I did today, and I did last night." She admitted, sitting back comfortably in her short volleyball shorts.

Meredith made a curious noise. "Oooh! Did the lady have a date?"

Gemma turned her nose up. "I had a date last night."

Meredith skipped around jubilantly. "Was he nice?"

"Oh, total gentleman. In fact, I have a repeat tonight. Or as he likes to put it-because I brought money on the first date-he has to take me out again and show me a proper date. We may be doing this until I'm fifty, I'm afraid." She smirked.

Her friend laughed. "So he's got a sense of humor, I take it."

"He's a regular funnyman-that's what he does for a living." She replied, not seeing the horror struck look in Greg's eyes.

"Ugh, is he a comedian? The money is terrible!" Meredith wrinkled her nose.

Gemma shook her head as Olivia sat down, a smile plastered on her face, to listen to Gemma's account of her date the night prior. "No, he's a writer and performer on this crazy television show. I think it's Monty Python Flying Circus...or maybe it was something else." She shrugged, not remembering the crazy title of the equally crazy show.

Trent, the tall man Gemma had guarded throughout the basketball game, gasped. "You're dating one of the Pythons?"

The girls turned and looked at him.

"Are you?" He asked again, staring intently at Gemma.

She shrugged uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess I am. Why?"

"Well, they're famous now!" He replied, awe in his voice. "You're dating a celebrity!"

The girls turned back to Gemma, who had an incredulous look on her face. "He doesn't like being called a celebrity," she mumbled.

"Which one are you dating?" Rachel, yet another volleyball buddy, chimed in. "I've seen the show, is it the tall one?"

Gemma shook her head. "No, that's John. I met him though."

They chattered about this with awe in their voices.

"So, why won't you tell us which one you're dating?" The girls whined at her.

She squinted slightly at Abigail, obviously one of those boy-crazy college girls. "Which one do you think is the cutest?" She asked pointedly.

Olivia giggled girlishly. "I rather liked that one character, the one that wrote the funniest joke in the world. He was adorable!"

Abigail frowned. "Are you kidding? Maybe without that horrid costume, ick! I liked the one from the 'Famous Deaths' sketch, he played Mozart's voice."

"What about that adorable camel spotter?" Piped up one of the more quiet girls. They were all giggling and talking when Gemma shook her head and smiled.

Meredith seized Gemma's arm and squeezed, causing her to wince and the others to shut up in order to hear. "Which one are you seeing?"

Gemma smacked Meredith's hand away and giggled. "I'm dating Bicycle Repair Man, who is also a very easily seduced milk man." She laughed with the others.

The shortest member of the entire congregation, Trina, spoke up suddenly. "He's rather cute, isn't he?"

Squinting, Gemma faked over-protection. "He's mine, back off!"

Meredith glanced at her watch as she laughed with the others. "It's four, Gem, did you want to get going?"

She jumped. "Christ, he's going to be ringing me!"

"What's his NAME?!" Abigail shook Gemma lightly.

"Mike, now let me go!" She lunged out the door, pulling Meredith after her.

The rushed to Gemma's house and piled inside, looking frantically at her answering machine with almost a wild look of hope. There weren't any messages; Gemma exhaled relievedly. She sat down, athletic shirt sticking to her back.

Meredith smiled at her friend as she sat next to the phone with a forlorn look a few minutes later. "Don't look so down-trodden, Gemma! Maybe he's busy filming that show of his."

The phone rang; Gemma pounced on it with another look of relief.

"Hello, Gemma." A voice filtered through.

Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it over Meredith's concerned voice.

"D-Doug?"