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Carrying the stack of emails, Trynia strode into the Playboy studios. Gene and Paul were slated to pose for the Girls of KISS yet again, and she knew it would be another rousing success for the two men in her life. Shannon Tweed was the organizer this year, having moved up in the organization to assistant editor.

Terri was not present in the bustling studios, replete with giggling models and anxious young assistants. Two rock legends were gracing the studios with their presence, and all girls were anxious to please and leave lasting impressions. Today, Terri Mason was seeing clients at her new virtual company, Mason Research.

Striding in, she saw the bright lights and the cluster of topless girls in starchild makeup. However when she saw the center of action Trynia turned right around and marched out, tears burning her eyes. Shannon Tweed noticed her entry, and rapid exit.

"Oh shit," Shannon muttered, rushing out. Gene snapped up his head at the sight of Trynia's entry and exit, shaking his head.

Trynia hurried down the hall, struggling hard not to burst into tears. After her she heard Shannon's voice calling urgently, "Trynia... wait! Come back... I can GUESS what you're thinking... and it's NOT what it seems..."

Anguished, Trynia turned around and wiped shameful tears from her eyes. "Look...Shannon....I just....I just came here to give some things to Paul. That's all."

"Wait, I don't think that's it, is it?" Shannon Tweed asked, gently brushing hair from Trynia's temple. "You're hot about that flirting, aren't you? You know he loves you, right? As I recall I thought you guys worked it out that when the cameras are on, it's all fantasy..."

"That sounds just PERFECT, Shannon, but it's not exactly what I had in mind....my almost HUSBAND with his hand on some girl's......" Trynia bristled, stepping back from Shannon with something akin to revulsion.

"He's not having SEX with them..."

"I KNOW that, damn it...." she sniffled. "But he's....he's got his hand all over her."

"This is the adult entertainment industry..." Shannon said with a sigh, resting a hand on Trynia's shoulder. "If Gene got jealous every time I was in a porn flick... I'd never get ANY work done... What happened between me and him was what REALLY mattered... not some silly groping for a picture pose!"

"But, Shannon, look at you. You are gorgeous. What did Gene call you? His six foot Playboy playmate," Trynia despaired, removing Shannon's hand from her shoulders firmly. "And I'm......what? Some fan Paul picked up along the way. I can't compete with these girls."

"Tryn, look, let me talk to you about this..." Shannon said. To Trynia's annoyance, her view of Shannon became blurred from the multitude of hot tears that spurted from her reddened eyes.

"I am six foot tall, gorgeous, and whatever Gene may have said, but its just part of who I am... and competing isn't the name of this game..." Shannon continued. "The Paul Stanley you know and love is NOT what they are experiencing.... they see the Star child... not the man she knows..."

Saying nothing, Trynia gritted her teeth and exhaled in a long puff that blew her hair from her face. Dark eyes sparkled with anger toward Shannon, even though she was not the cause of her sudden outburst, she was a convenient target.

"Trynia, why is this so hard all of a sudden... are you ok?"

Shannon asked, looking hard at her, trying to understand. "I want to help you out here, Hon... Paul LOVES you... I wish I could make you see..."

"I guess I'm just feeling.... Let's just say, I'm NOT exactly feeling like Playboy bunny material."

At these words, Shannon Tweed narrowed her eyes carefully to regard Trynia. It was as if she could see an inner light had dawned in the other woman's blue eyes, of uncomfortable realization. Slowly Shannon asked, "Tryn... how long have you been feeling like this?"

She breathed a heavy sigh, hoping Shannon did not guess what had transpired, "And Paul keeps making comments about how he wants me to look drop dead gorgeous when I walk down the aisle, bur frankly, I'm feeling anything but."

"Some men think women are even SEXIER pregnant..." Shannon cut her off.

"Did you know that?"

"I....don't know. For awhile now, I suppose. Maybe it's all just hitting me," Trynia continued, then froze in sheer shock. "You just said,.....PREGNANT."

"Yes... am I out of line suggesting you are?" Shannon asked softly.

"I mean, I felt the SAME way you did... when I had my kids... It hit the third or fourth month... Oh GOD I'm fat, and Gene will never think I'm sexy!!!"

Tryn wiped her eyes, still in disbelief at this sudden unveiling, "Do I.....look pregnant?"

"No, but you ACT pregnant," Shannon Tweed answered, hand on her shapely hip.

"Guess I'm caught then," Trynia smiled weakly.

"Congratulations," Shannon smiled, stroking her arm. "look, you are SO lucky. those girls aren't' carrying Paul Stanley's baby."

She breathed a heavy sigh and smiled again, more strongly this time, for Shannon really was trying to help her feel better, "Thanks, Shannon. That means a lot. It's not exactly a perfect time for this....I mean, my parents don't even know. Paul's parents don't know. And what's that they say about the average wait for conception to be about six months? Guess the statisticians never met Paul."

"Oh... good lord, if you have sex Every night like I think... that beats the odds... And what does SCIENCE know, no offense intended..."

Shannon responded to Trynia's attempted joke, and shook her head, "Hey, look, I know it's hard. It's even HARDER when you're a six-foot playboy playmate. Because you wonder if you'll EVER be able to lose the weight and be able to work again..."

"I can't ever imagine you not being gorgeous. I remember reading that Gene couldn't keep his hands off you."

"He couldn't keep his hands off Terri either." Shannon replied.

"Shannon, Paul's got this image of his head of me walking down the aisle and taking his breath away, like some sort of damn princess. Wonder how he's going to take it when I'm wadding, not gliding?" she said with sarcasm.

"He'll just see how sexy you look carrying his star baby... and how you are GLOWING," Shannon responded. "I'll let you in on a secret... most men think no woman is more sexier then the one carrying HIS child."

Trynia chuckled despite herself, and stroked her stomach lightly, "Star baby..... That's the first I've heard of that one."

"Well Paul and Gene are very proud men. And well, you know the male ego... if he plants a seed and sees it grow, he's one happy gardener..."

"Shannon.....how do you do it? How do you keep yourself on an even keel, knowing there's always some groupie out there....some fan out there who is prettier than you?"

"I have self confidence," Shannon answered simply. "I know I'm attractive to the man I love, and I don't give a damn about the others, because I KNOW he'll never have with them what he has with ME. Sex isn't being pretty, it's about how you carry yourself. It's attitude. How else do you think GENE had a shot with me?"

"I wish....I wish I did. I mean, when it comes to intellect, hell, yeah, I can compete with anyone. But when it comes to THOSE plastic baby dolls in there.....why do I feel so damn inadequate? Like he's going to turn over and look at me some night and think, "I went from Samantha Foxx to Susie Homemaker?"

"Hey, you ARE pretty, you know. Do you know how many of us playboy bunnies want a family and a home and children?" Shannon asked. "A good man to treat us right? Being LOVED makes you beautiful."

"Yes Shannon, but sometimes I wonder....all these women he's been with...and how many of them have been better in bed than me. How many of them could do all kinds of sexual gymnastics? Does he ever regret......" Trynia trailed off, wiping her eyes with the tissues Shannon handed her. "Shannon, I'm sorry to unload on you. I'm not this insecure. Usually."

"Feel free to unload..." Shannon shrugged. "Terri's not here, so why not me? And as for sexual gymnastics, most of them knew NOTHING when they met Paul or Gene..."

"I sit up nights worrying about this. I mean, we said we wanted a baby RIGHT AWAY, but heck, how am I going to tell my folks? What is his mom going to say? Is she going to suddenly decide I'm Linda, Part II?"

"His mom will love having a new grandchild. And you're NOT Linda," Shannon said quickly.

"And how many fans are going to say that I trapped him?" she whispered quietly.

"Tryn, look... the fans will say what they want regardless of what they know. You can't let THEM steal your joy about this."

"I can just picture it now. Everyone wondering why I didn't use one of Gene's damn Kiss Kondoms," Trynia joked sadly, chuckling a bit now. "Well, you wanted a Star Baby... so hey don't apologize for what you WANT."

"Shan, what am I going to do when he sits there and makes comments about me and my beautiful wedding dress? I'm just not sure I'm going to....well...stack up. I already feel like I'm getting a belly."

"Well, have one that doesn't call attention to it. Besides, you look damn good for a woman who's pregnant. How far along are you?"

"The dressmaker says she can alter it, no problem. I guess I'll believe it when I see it," Trynia answered, looking down at her shoes a bit.

"Well there you go!" Shannon slapped her thigh. "It's their JOB to make you satisfied."

"Just about out of my first trimester. I'll be four months along on my wedding day." she sniffled a bit. "My dad is just going to LOVE this, you know."

"Oh damn... your father is the type who would go get the shotgun?" Shannon half-joked.

"Oh, yes! My dad's the type who read me the riot act before my first date about how I was NOT to do anything before I got married. And this was just a date to the movies," Trynia rolled her eyes. "They're just now digesting the fact that I'm marrying a rock star."

"Hmm, well how is your MOM about all this?" Shannon asked.

"I think.....she'll be OK with it. She loves children and I think she's warming to Paul a bit. She really gained a lot of respect for him with the problems with my professor. She really liked that he stood by me."

"There you go, one parent on Paul's side..."

"And that he's promised my dad he won't stray," said Trynia. Just then, the door to the dressing room down the hall opened, and they heard laughter. A familiar voice intruded upon the conversation, shattering Trynia's sense of newfound proportion.

"I thought I heard two lovely ladies talking out here..." Paul commented. Striding up in silver platform boots, he fluffed out his cloud of dark hair and smiled warmly at both of them. At sight of Trynia, he held his arms out to her, a warm smile on his face.

"Hey Paul, look who showed up," Shannon tweed said.

"Baby, great to see you... are you sticking around for little old me?" Paul asked, slipping his arm around her. Trynia stiffened.

Trynia regarded him coldly, "No, actually, I was just leaving. I dropped off your emails, like you wanted."

To Paul's surprise she took his arm off her shoulders, and turned to leave. She heard his footsteps pursuing her, and flushed with anger when he said, "Hon... I don't think t hat's the whole story..."

"You got two calls at the house, something about wanting to use some of your lyrics for a commercial. I told them you'd call back and...." she continued, ignoring him pursuing her.

"Now I KNOW that tone. It's the 'Paul you've acted like a skirt chasing ass...' tone," Paul interrupted, large hand grasping her shoulder.

"And Mike called and said that if you could have your next set of questions and answers ready to be posted by Wednesday, he'll be happy to upload them....and..."

"And I think you and I need to talk," Paul said, turning her around to face him. Angrily she glared at him, eyes sparkling with bitterness.

"And I'd suggest somewhere FAR away from here..." Paul continued.

Lips pressed together, Trynia walked past him, "I didn't come here to start trouble. I just wanted to drop these off. I see you are busy."

"Never too busy for you." he said, stepping before her to block her way. "Now let's go somewhere we can talk."

"And a few other big chested women, it appears" she mutters to herself.

"Hey, Shannon, is there a private place I can take Tryn to talk?" he asked, taking Tryn's hand. Trynia tossed Shannon an embarrassed look and rolled her eyes slightly.

"Down the hall," Shannon says. "the dressing room..."

"I have to get back....." she started, pushing against Paul.

"Gene's up next," Shannon said. "It's not a problem, and I think you really SHOULD talk privately. I'll let Gene know that you're taking a break..."

"It can wait, like THEY are," Paul said firmly to Trynia. "You've got my attention now, and I'll be damned if I'm letting you walk out that door before telling me what is on your mind."

His dark eyes were not black with anger, but concern. The white makeup creased into a slight frown of worry.

"Alright.....let's go." she relented, anger still present in her voice.

"C'mon," Paul urged, nodding toward the dressing room. Seizing Trynia's hand, he led her after him. His hair was stiff and sprayed, and bounced a bit over his shoulders. As she walked slowly with him, she becomes more and more angry, and feels closer to tears. With his damned boots, he towered over her.

Paul opened the door to the dressing room, and indicates she should go in first. Biting her lip, Trynia entered. He closed the door after him as he followed. Folding arms over his chest he locked it and leaned against it.

Trynia turned her back to him, facing the mirror where the lights had been turned on. A picture of the two of them was sitting next to a rose in a crystal vase. She picked up a bottle and begins to play with it, absentmindedly.

"All right now, what's this fuss all about?" he asked with concern. "You could have TOLD me you were upset... That you didn't want me to do this damn shoot..."

"I don't know what you want me to tell Mike. He wants to know if Wednesday is OK..." she began, knowing to purposely avoid the subject would annoy him beyond belief. She shut her eyes shortly, then peered at his image over her shoulder.

"Sweets, I would have GLADLY told them to stick it up their ASSES if I knew it would have upset you!"

"I THOUGHT you wanted me to take your calls and schedule your appointments today. I THOUGHT that was the arrangement. I'm doing just that, damn it!" Trynia whirled on him, hands on her hips.

Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment. On silver toed boots he strode past her, and sat down. Crossing his arms, he grabbed his costume and began to tug off the top of it.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think? If the Starchild is bothering you so much... I think it's time I sent him away..." Paul answered.

"Now I KNOW you're being ridiculous!" Trynia snapped.

"Because if that's what you want, it stops here and now..." Paul answered. He grabbed a rag and a bottle of baby oil, and set them bot in front of him.

"Paul..." she sighed.

He started to dab the oil on the cloth, and looked at her for a moment.

"No more playboy shoots... period. What do you think about that?"

"You want to know what I THINK? Are you READY for this?" Trynia snapped, voice quaking. Paul ripped off his choker, throwing it down as he regarded her.

"Talk to me, now," he says, turning around to face her. "I'm listening."

Trynia's blood boiled, tension mounting. Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth to speak. A knock shattered her concentration, and Paul shouted, "WHAT?"

"Mr. Stanley we need you..."

"IN A MINUTE!" Paul yelled back. "I'm on a break."

"All right..." came the answer. Trynia gritted her teeth.

"As you were saying?" Paul asked, poising the baby oil close to his face.

"What I THOUGHT was that this was supposed to be a group shot...you, Gene and a few scantily clad women sprinkled around," Trynia began. "What it turns OUT to be is you and a whole damn gang on women hanging all over you. I walk in and you've got your hand on someone's boob, and someone ELSE has her hand up your leg."

Paul drew in a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, and shook his head, back turned to her, "Shit... I'm sorry..."

"Hell, Paul, that redhead decides to stretch out her arm any further and she's holding on to your Love Gun!"

At this, Paul slammed his hand down on the table, shaking his head. Angrily he shouted, "Damn it Paul, you did it AGAIN. Why the fuck can't I get this RIGHT?"

"And I can't help but NOTICE that you really seemed to be enjoying yourself. Not EXACTLY a boring day at the office...." Trynia choked, her voice quaking, chin wobbling.

Paul's hands balled into fists and he pounded the makeup table. His hand swept across the clown white and other makeup, smashing it to the floor.

"Perhaps....perhaps...I should just go out there and have MY picture taken with Gene. You know Paul, grabbing his ass or something. Gee, maybe the fans would like that, huh? Oh, no WAIT I forgot. I'm engaged..." she snarled.

Paul whirled around, seeing Trynia open a distance between them as she sauntered to the other side of the room. For Paul it might as well have been three thousand miles.

"Hmmm. Oh, yes. And pregnant..." she added bitterly. Paul sighed again, staring into the mirror. Seeing the forlorn lost look in his brown eyes, she began to feel slightly bad since she had hoped Paul would snap back and allow her to get angry.

"Damn it," she whispered. Then there was another knock at the door.

"If that's it..." Paul said slowly, holding the cotton ball poised before his face. "There is only one solution honey..."

"What are you talking about?" Trynia asked bitterly.

"I'm taking the makeup off," he shouted, and pressed the ball to his face with a violent stroke, marring the black into an ugly gray streak. "How would you like THAT?"

"Paul... stop it, you're acting like a child!" Trynia cried. "What about your shoot..."

"Screw it!" Paul snarled, drawing another streak of baby oil across his Starchild mask, marring white and black into a gray mess. There came another knock at the door.

Paul snarled, "go AWAY! I'm BUSY!"

"But Mr. Stanley," the voice protested. Rising from his stool, he rushed to the door and opened it.

"I MEAN it!" Paul cried, opening the door on a young woman standing there.

"Go! If you need to. GO!" she snarled, praying that he would not.

"Mister Stanley, your makeup... what have you done... Gene needs you NOW!" she cried in horror.

"Tell Gene this shoot is OVER!" Paul said firmly. "As of NOW!"

"But Mr. Stanley..."

"Are you deaf? Tell him it's OFF!" Paul snapped at her. Trynia hugged herself as she listened to the conversation.

"Y... yes..." she stammered, backing away. He slammed the door shut and locked it again, banging his fist against it in anger.

"Stupid fucking shit," he snarled under his breath. "Goddamn Gene and his goddamn KISS photo SHOOT!"

"Paul....." she says quietly.

"It's happening AGAIN," he shook his head. His back was still to her. Sighing he continued to blur his makeup, stripping it off with the cloth in his hand. He turned to her, dark eyes reddened suddenly.

Trynia shook her head no, and said softly, "If you need to, go and finish."

"A woman I love, and a baby on the way, and my stupid fucking CAREER in the way of my happiness!" Paul yelled. "Fuck Gene and his stuff. If this is what it gets me..."

"Paul.. please don't do this..." she pleaded.

"I don't want to loose you," he sniffed, turning to her as he rubbed his face clean.

"Paul....I'll never look like that. That blonde you were teasing. That will never be me." Trynia answered, hugging herself once more.

"I know that baby, but I don't CARE! That's NOT what this is about."

He took her hands in his and kissed them, his own hands shaking, "I don't WANT them. They're not carrying my child. YOU are. and they are not wearing this gorgeously impressive ring... you are."

"Paul I know that..."

"What can I do, to prove to you?" he pleaded.

"You see.....I'm not going to be your perfect princess walking down the aisle. I'm going to be four months PREGNANT. And then we'll have another. And maybe another. And even when I lose the baby weight, I'll still never have that waist again."

"Oh god Tryn... are you worried I won't love you because of they way you look in a damn DRESS?" he asked.

She sobbed a bit, "And I'll never be a six foot Playmate for you....not even when I'm wearing your boots."

"Do you REALLY think that's what I want? To have you worried SICK about what I think? That this is a Contest? Because it isn't! What can I say to convince you otherwise? help me out here, honey!"

"It's just that I know what type of women you like. And I just hope you realize.... I don't know...." she sighed.

"I hope you realize that YOU'RE the woman I want to marry, not them," Paul said quickly. "And it's NOT just because you're carrying our child, it's because I love you, and not one of them."

"But you had your hand.....I saw it." She stammered angrily.

"I know. But they had their hands on my ass as well, and any other male model," Paul stammered. "I'm as much the beefcake as they are the cheesecake love. I know it doesn't make it right..."

"And how can you do that and not get aroused? And what happens the next time you get aroused and I'm not around?"

"Damn... I wish I could say something to let you know it's NOT the same as when you are I are together, but I don't think it's something you want to hear, honey," he sighed deeply. "Can you not get aroused when you see those young men at school?"

"Is they're going to come a time where maybe the wife and kids aren't as appealing as the centerfold with her hand near your crotch?" she answered quietly.

"What about those younger men... any of which you could have... Who have YOUNG faces and bodies and AREN'T falling apart? Instead of a broken down Rock star dressing up like he did 20 years ago... with a 50 some year old body?" Paul challenged her.

"Love, ANY of those women would take you in a second. They would be nuts not to."

"You're young and beautiful, Tryn. No doubting that. Any man who would turn YOU down would be Nuts..." Paul answered firmly. "And you're even MORE beautiful because that's MY child you're carrying."

Blushing and smiling a bit, she looked down at the floor. Slowly she asked, "Will you still think I'm beautiful when I'm eight months along....nine, even?"

"Yes, absolutely." Paul answered immediately. "Because you're carrying our baby... And I will love you even more."

"You're sweet to say that," she shrugged.

"I'm not just saying that, sweets. But if you think I am... then so be it," he added sadly, turning away. She snapped her head up quickly and turned around to him.

"Do you need to finish the shoot?" she whispered to him. "Because if you do......I can go....if I'm in the way."

He sank into the nearby couch, sighing as he lay back and stretched out. Propping up his booted feet, he settled into an emotional exhaustion. Trynia turned toward the door for a moment and touches her stomach lightly. Mentally she kicked herself for not knowing what to say.

"Why do you think you're in the way?" he asked. He almost sprang off the couch, finding the strength to cross over to her.

"Because....you were having fun before I came, and you have work to do. You're a rock star, and I know that things like this have to be done."

"And what makes you think I'm GOING to let you leave this room, missy?" Paul demanded, blocking her way. In shock, she looked him right in the eye for the first time.

"I don't NEED to do this, Tryn."

"You're really not going to do this shoot, are you?" she asked.

"I only am doing this shoot because the money is good. But if it hurts you and us, I won't do it. I don't HAVE to do this. I mean it's not like we're hurting for it. Hell I could be doing Phantom now."

"Shannon told me what these photo shoots net you and Gene. Are you SURE you want to do this? Paul, we're talking a lot of money." Trynia asked. "Because of Gene wanting the band...I guessed I could just go on... but not if you're upset about it."

"If it means losing you, I want no part of it." Paul said firmly.

"LOSING me?" Trynia gasped. "Now WAIT a minute, Mister!"

"I'll hang up the damn platforms and Gene can put some dude named Dario in them... Like he did with Ace when he hired Tommy Thayer..."

"Paul, don't you KNOW....."

"Tryn... I don't want this to get between you and me..." he cried. She wiped away a tear.

"The point of whether or not we want to be together has come and gone....." Trynia interrupted him.

"What are we talking about?" Paul asked.

"Our moment in front of God, where we pledge to be together forever and ever....that's not going to happen on our wedding day..... That's already happened, Paul. That happened the day we chose to lie down and make a baby," she said softly.

"I know love... but help me out here! What IS this all about?" Paul asked, confusion rampant on his lovely face.

"I'm not going anywhere." she said, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

"I just want....I just want...."

"Excuse a poor old broken down rock star whose brains are going south..." he said with a slight sad laugh.

"Paul... Please... I don't..."

"Tell me... WHAT do you want... please..." he begged. "If you want me to give up the band, I will... if you want me to give up this crazy photshoot I will...just TELL me..."

"I just want you to want me and ONLY me. I don't want you to look at gorgeous blondes and....compare them to me. I just want to feel secure. I want to feel beautiful. I want to know that it's OK to be pregnant before I get married. I want to know that my parents and yours will respect us. I want to know that the fans won't accuse me of taking your money....and God, I'm rambling... I just want YOU, Paul."

"No you aren't, baby," Paul reproved, taking her upper arms in his hands. "And I want you to tell me when you are upset, instead of stuffing it down because you're scared it will hurt my career... Remember our Eisen rules... baby?"

Through her tears she regarded him, "Yes...I remember..."

"Whenever you find it necessary say, "Hey Paul stop being an ass and a skirt chaser...." "

"But....I might not be perfect walking the aisle. I mean, I'll be four months pregnant, and...."

"So WHAT?" Paul asked. "You're MY bride."

"I won't be skinny like Linda was."

"It's you I'm marrying NOT Linda!" Paul cried. "I don't want PERFECT, I want you. And you're PERFECT for me."

"Paul, please tell me something and promise me you won't lie," she began again, breathing heavily.

"Yes, anything," he said.

"If I hadn't gotten pregnant, would you still want to marry me?"

"Absolutely." he said, unwaveringly as he locked his gaze right into hers. "I asked you BEFORE I knew, didn't I?"

"What if the fans say I got this way because I just wanted your money? How will that make you feel? Will it make you feel like maybe they were right?"

"You told me you weren't. That's enough for me." Paul said. "Don't you think I TRUST you by now? The fans think whatever they want. I can't change their minds, Tryn."

"I guess I'm the one who's doing a rotten job of trusting today," she sighed, looking past him in shame.

"Honey, I will be the first to admit I think I haven't been very good at inspiring trust... I guess it doesn't' help to use the old makeup excuse."

"But you've always been honest about your transgressions with me, right? I mean, there have been none since that groupie..." Trynia answered, with inquisitive eyes.

"None whatsoever," he says, looking her right in the eyes. "I won't lie that I haven't been tempted, but I NEVER strayed after that."

"Can I ask you something personal, that's probably none of my business?"

"Sure... anything."

"With Linda....how long was it before....you were tempted..." she asked.

"I mean, REALLY tempted."

"Two years. But that was after we had several big fights. When she refused to join me on tour... And accused me of straying to begin with."

"So in a way, she was giving you almost an excuse to cheat." Trynia asked slowly.

"I was alone and needed SOMEONE," he hung his head, eyes closed.

"Did you feel guilty about it?"

"Hell yes. Like I'm feeling damn guilty now about this shoot."

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. Paul pulled her down into his lap gently so she sprawled across his legs.

"Paul, you are only human. You need to give yourself permission to be just that. Sort of like I need to."

"I know love, but we both are pretty crappy at giving ourselves permission to screw up, aren't we?"

"Especially when we both would rather screw each other then up," he joked weakly. She chuckled and kissed him again, warmly this time and for a longer period. He rubbed her belly lightly and pulled her closer.

"Truer words were never spoken" she grinned.

"I'm glad you think so," he nodded, fingering her nose delicately.

"And I DO love you. Maybe that's my excuse for why you drive me irresistibly nuts sometimes." she teased.

Just then, there was yet another knock on the door. It was heavy handed and urgent, including a voice barking to order. Paul cursed and puts his head in his hand, "shit, what is their deal.."

"Who is it?" Trynia yelled.

"Paul, you in there?" Gene asked, voice muffled by the door. "What the hell is this about the shoot being off?"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Gene. I was only a matter of time. Better go talk to him..."

Trynia hopped off his lap and winked at him. Cursing, Paul got to his feet and strode over to the door. Unlocking it, he opened it on a very consternated Demon, arms crossed over his chest.

"Now WHAT the hell is going on here, Stanley?" Gene demanded. "Care to explain just WHAT this is all about? Problems with the missus?"

"That's just it Gene. My woman's upset, and I won't have myself doing a shoot because of it!" he snapped.

Over his shoulder Gene glared at Trynia, asking, "Is that true, doll?"

"Gene, look, we just need some time," Trynia implored.

"Time's something we don't have much of..." he starts. Paul stands up and goes over to him, angrily.

She looks at him and can't help chuckling. "Bat boy!"

"Gene, do me a favor," Paul said. "And kiss off. I'm having a private convo with my fiancée."

"Oh, hell, YEAH, Paul. RIGHT after you get your skinny ass out there and finish this damn photo shoot."

"I'm not exactly in makeup," Paul grinned. "And as I recall you have more then enough footage of little ol me."

"Do you have any idea how many people are milling around, waiting for your horny self to get back out there so we can all go home?"

"Oh boohoo, why not get Eric and Tommy to have a few more shots?" Paul asked him. "After all, there are 3 others of us, not just you and me."

Gene flashed a look of annoyance at Trynia and muttered, "Screw it! This is just perfect!"

Shannon suddenly coughed, standing behind Gene. She cleared her throat and said to Gene, "Excuse me, but he has a point, Gene."

Trynia turned to Paul, "Honey, if you need to finish...."

"We do have at least 10 shots of Paul..." Shannon nodded. "And they are stunning as usual. We can do a few more of the spaceman and the cat man..."

"So WHAT? This photo shoot is over because TRYNIA says it is?" Gene asked.

"No because I say it is for me," Paul said to Gene.

"Well, forgive me. Next time we'll bring a chastity belt for Paul. You HAPPY now?" Gene asked, glaring at Trynia angrily.

"Gene, stuff it," Paul snapped angrily.

"I'm NOT in the mood for this crap." Gene snarled.

"The lady says she has the shots in the can for me," Paul pointed to Shannon.

"You know what? I'm not either. Two damn months to organize this thing and you go limp on me half way through. Well, f***ck it then, Stanley. We'll pick a shot or two of you and move on." he growled.

"And I don't want to hear a DAMN word about you crying because you don't look good in any of them."

"While you're at it, why not find a stand in?" Paul snapped at him. "Find some young trib guy and paint him up like me... like you did with Ace and Peter..."

"Now wait just a DAMN minute, Stanley!" Gene started.

"You're good at that," he snaps, picking up his bag and taking Trynia's hand. "C'mon let's go."

"You know, I don't need this! My damn schedule is full enough as it is. When you're ready to rejoin this band, you just let me know!" Gene yelled.

"I will, damn it!" Paul bellowed. "Since YOU were kind enough to take long enough to listen to ME, Mr. Hollywood... When YOU skipped out on ME!"

"Oh we're back to THAT, huh? Well let me tell you, if you're not into KISS... well, then shit. You can do the expo circuit and piss and moan about YOUR f**cking treatment too."

"Paul, please!!" Trynia cried, grabbing Paul's arm.

"Remember the 80's Geno?" he demanded. "When you starred a few films... And left the production of KISS to a certain someone?"

"Maybe you should finish the shoot!" Trynia whispered to Paul.

"And now I want a little leeway and you have the GALL to tell me how it is? SCREW you!" Paul shouted to Gene, anger painting his eyes livid black.

"You had balls back then, Stanley. Now apparently you don't, and your lady is running the show. Hell, in five months, there will be a kid running around and it can just be like a big babysitting service. Then what? You can't pose for pictures because your kid filled his diaper? This is just lovely."

"Whatever Gene," Paul snorted back. "I'll do the f**king shoot. I don't care anymore."

"Hell, YES, you will. I didn't bust my ass for two months to get this to be the only damn person to show up and perform," Gene answered curtly. "Now you're out of uniform..."

"All right then, screw it," Paul snorted. He stormed over to the table and started to smear the clown white on again. Trynia strode up to Gene, framed there in the doorway, fury boiling inside her.

"Gene, your a son of a bitch sometimes," Trynia whispers to him, anger very evident in her voice.

"F**ing bullshit," Paul muttered to himself. He painted on his white a bit hastily, trying to get it reasonably well distributed without loosing his patience.

Gene took one last look at Trynia and shook his head. He strode halfway down the hall then turned on her. Sighing, he said, "Trynia, I like you. You're my lady's best friend. You've done a world of good for Paul. But in the world of Kiss, you're about THIS big (he holds up his fingers about an inch apart). In other words, your opinion doesn't mean jack-shit. You want to get all goo-goo eyes with Paul and get him to write love songs. More friggin' power to you, but you're NOT going to mess up my band."

"That is bullshit and you know it, Gene," Trynia snapped back. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear half of that..."

"You'd better listen and listen well, because I HATE having to repeat myself sweetcakes. You do NOT interfere in BAND business, do you hear?"

"Well maybe that is the case, Mr. Simmons. But you know I was one of those people who PUT you where you are, remember?" Trynia asked coldly, standing her ground. She walked past him, bumping him as she walked away. "I was a FAN remember?"

A low growl escaped Gene's throat as he watched her leave. Angrily he stormed back to the dressing room. Throwing open the door on Paul, he pointed a finger in his direction and yelled, "Stanley, I mean it. You CONTROL her, or keep her ass at home."

"Excuse me?" Paul asked.

"That was our agreement, as you recall. No woman would ever come between us. No woman would ever mess up the music."

"Like you control Terri?" he shot back. "Good luck with THAT!"

"You want to screw her 26 hours a day, go right f**cking ahead. You're the Man. Just uphold the agreement."

"She knows it, Gene. And so do I." Paul answered gloomily. "How can we forget with you reminding me every damn time?"

"You're either in, or you're out. You're not going Howard Hughes on me!" Gene answered. "I'm not going to kiss your ass every time you don't want to do something....every time SHE doesn't want you to do something."

"I guess this means I'm in," Paul said resignedly.

Gene smiled and slapped him on the arm, "Good man."

"But a few changes here and there have to happen," he adds under his breath. "Including dealing with a certain grabby playmate..."

Gene nudged him, "If you're looking to get rid of the chick who grabbed your d**ck, don't forget to send her Uncle Gene's way."

"I will," Paul said. "She's all yours, Geno. I've sworn off women, remember?"

Gene smiled in triumph, confident that he had won this round. HE grinned, "More for me. Your choice, my friend."

"Yeah, now get out of here so I can freaking get ready, ok?" Paul shoved him. "You Hungarian putz!"

"Brothers?" Gene asked, holding out his hand to Paul.

"Yeah, to the bitter end," he says, taking Gene's hand. "Whatever it may be."

Gene laughed, "F***cked up ones, but brothers nonetheless."

"Emphasis on F**cked." Paul added, shaking Gene's hand as Gene slapped his back. "Now get outta here..."

"Well, let's just SAY now that that dreaded six week waiting period is over, Terri and I are back in the saddle again. Maybe that's what Trynia needs. A good screw!" he winked and walked out.

"I guess," Paul sighed, looking down as he continued to paint on his makeup. In his haste, he smudged the point of the star on his nose and cursed, "Damn it."