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(re)scheduling conflict resolution

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"Look," Harmony said, throwing her handbag at Harry's favorite potted plant and missing it by several inches, "I'm exhausted, all right? Why, you ask - well, I'll tell you why."

"Er, neither of us didn't actually - "

"Shut up, Harry. I'm exhausted because I've had some ... some skeeveball trying to stick his tongue down my throat all day. And my shoes!"

"Someone tried to stick your shoes down your throat? Now that's just wrong. I mean, not that the other thing wasn't wrong, too, but, you know, in the greater scheme of things, I'd definitely put shoes over tongues in the category of things people should not be trying to stick down your - "

Perry smacked him. "She didn't mean it like that, idiot."

"I knew that. I totally knew that."

"Anyway," Perry said, arms crossed, "so what? You're an actress. Shoes and skeeveballs come with the job. You wanted slippers and nice guys, you should have become - fuck, I don't know. A swim instructor for old ladies?"

"The nice guys being their sons? Grandsons?"

"I'm just saying I've had a tough day." Harmony slumped down on the couch. "So I think I deserve to have Harry tonight."

"Thank you. I mean, I'm not sure how, exactly, you just complimented me, but I'm pretty sure there was an implication of praise in there somewhere."

Perry shook his head. "Forget it. We got a schedule, we stick to it."

"Is this like you saying you want me bad, right here, right now? Because, you know, usually, it's more like, too slow, Harry. Or too fast. Or too hard, or not hard enough. Seriously, it's like you're teaching a gym class or something. Put some back in it, Harry! Like that. Exhausting."

Perry sighed. "No, Harry, this is like me saying we've got a schedule, and we're gonna stick to it. Because that's what fucking schedules are for."

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with you calling it a fucking schedule. I mean, that sounds kind of clinical, right? Like, to me, this is not all about sex, all right? I have feelings, too, you know?"

"Yeah, Perry. Harry's got feelings, too, you know?"

"Don't - "

Harmony chuckled. "Juuust kidding. Or ... am I?"

"I'm going to go with 'yes'," Perry said. "Seeing as how we both know what he's like."

"Can I just say that I resent that? I have feelings. In fact, I have quite a lot of them. Right now, for instance, I have at least four - no, wait, five. Six, even, maybe. No, wait, sorry, it was six. I think."

"Oh, come on, Perry. Look, you can have him ... Friday night next week?"

"You mean when there's a pool party at Frenkel's place with several male underwear models?" Perry scoffed. "Yeah, nice try."


"Surveillance for a case."

"I could, in theory, tag along. Just throwing that out there. An extra pair of eyes."

"No," Perry said flatly. "No offense, but last time you went with me on one of these things, we got a fucking corpse dumped in our lap. Proverbially."

"Thank you for that addition. And the mental images. Oh, and no offense taken."

"Come on, Perry. For me? Pretty, pretty please?"

"You know he's gay, right? So all this batting your eyes at him - it's really not going to - "

"Shut up, Harry."

"Or, hey, here's a wild idea. Why don't we make it a threesome?"

"No offense, Harry, but I'm really not interested in watching you with - look, I like you; I'm totally okay with you having sex with him, but gay porn just isn't my thing, you know?"

Perry shrugged. "No reason why it should be."

"Or straight porn, actually. It's just, like, all so totally fake, you know? And sexist. I mean, have you seen the boobs some of these girls have? Well, no, you probably haven't, but seriously."

"I like porn. Can I just mention that I like porn?"

"You've spent a really big part of your life not getting any sex, haven't you? Don't answer that."

"Then don't ask. I mean, you ask questions, people are going to assume you want answers. That's logical, right? Harmony, help me out here."

"Just one time, Perry. One fucking time. What's the big deal?"

"You think you feel bad now, wait till you wake up with him drooling all over your crotch."

"Thanks, Perry."

"Yeah. Thanks a lot, Perry."

Perry sighed. "That was not a 'yes'. That was an 'even if I were to agree, which I won't, you'd regret it in the end'. Trust me on this."

"Well, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Thanks. I don't really drool, you know. It was more, like, I'd fallen asleep with my mouth open, so when I woke up, my tongue was just - "

"She doesn't want to know."

"Look, okay, fine, so maybe the threesome idea was, on closer inspection, not such a great idea. All right, I accept that. So why don't we just ... have dinner or something? The three of us. It'll be nice - we'll order take-out or something, or Perry can cook. He's a great cook, you know. I think it's one of those gay things. Like, gay guys are all great cooks?"

"It's an 'I can actually survive on my own as an independent person' kind of thing," Perry said.

"Fine, whatever, my point is: a nice dinner, a bit of wine. Then Harmony will feel better and, well, we'll figure out what to do after dessert, with everyone nice and relaxed? Catch a movie, maybe."

"You mean you're going to fall asleep on the couch."

"Maybe. Maybe you're going to fall asleep on the couch. Maybe Harmony is going to fall asleep on the couch. Maybe we'll make tonight a Whoever Falls Asleep on the Couch Last Gets to Take Harry Home. How's that for an idea, huh?"


"Chicken," Harmony said.

Perry grimaced. "Fine. Harry's paying for take-out, you set the table and I pick the movie. And no, it's won't be a Jonny Gossamer one. You people need to broaden your horizons."

"I pay for take-out? What, did I get a raise while I wasn't looking?"

"This is going to be so nice. Thanks, Perry. Really. I need this."

"Yes, Perry. Thank you so very much."

"Shut up, Harry."