"Whats wrong love? Are the walls the wrong shade of beige?" Josh teased, looking at them with so much scrutiny and stupidity that Tamara wondered how that thing lying on the only bed in the room had become a doctor.

"You know whats wrong." She hissed, dropping her bags near the door and stalking over towards where he lay casually, one arm propped behind his head, his bicep flexing with the position. Tamara ignored the wonderful muscle and glared down at Josh, who looked back at her so innocently she almost believed his confusion.

Almost.

"There's only one bed." Tamara clarified when he didn't say anything. Looking down, as if he'd only just noticed, Josh rose his eyebrows and nodded.

"Oh."

"Do you not see the problem?" She half shouted, getting increasingly annoyed at his ignorance.

"The one where you're right eye is twitching, I could look at that for you, you know, me being qualified and all."

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to jump on your balls."

Josh rose an eyebrow, his mouth quirking uncontrollably as a smirk graced his face. "What did you just say?"

Tamara sighed, angry. "I said-wait," Tamara groaned, putting her hands on her face and groaning into them.

"Maybe we shouldn't share a bed. That comment was awfully forward. I'm feeling kind of violated-"

He couldn't finish, because Tamara had just stuffed a pillow halfway down his throat.

"You've got the couch." She muttered, picking up her bag again then storming into the bathroom, deciding on what to wear.

She fumed as she dug through her bag. One bed? One damn bed? What did they think they were, married? Sighing, Tamara pulled out her emerald dress that had long sleeves and was fitted with lace covering.

It wasn't that she didn't want to share a bed with him. Well, it was.

But a part of her, that little part that made bad decisions like buying a pet chameleon or wearing denim over denim, wanted to.

And that was what made her so angry.

Once she had finished in the shower, Tamara wrapped a towel around her and used the hotels blow dryer to dry her hair, letting it curl slightly and leaving it out in waves. She made quick work of her make up and slipped on a pair of black heels, giving herself a once over before nodding in agreement to her reflection and cracking open the bathroom door.

Then she stopped dead.

Josh was standing with his back to her, upper body bare, and boy oh boy he had an attractive physique. Those back muscles, and the shoulders...

Slamming the door shut, Tamara breathed in and out slowly, trying to make the red in her cheeks go away and lower her heart rate before she had a stroke.

Okay, time for plan two.

Counting down from five, Tamara flung the door open again, waltzing out with fake confidence. Josh turned slightly, his white dress shirt now snugly on his body - thankfully.

When his eyes trailed down her body like it was the long lost map of Finland, Tamara realised in shock that there was no teasing or cocky aura surrounding him. His face held, mild surprise and...shock. When his eyes met hers again, Tamara was almost waiting for that movie line, where the cocky jerk would fit you with a smouldering gaze and tell you how beautiful you looked.

"You looked presentable, at least. Now lets go."

Well, close enough, factoring in that this was Josh, the one who would rather get his testicles removed then give out a compliment as little as 'you look nice'.

It still stung a little bit as he turned and walked out the door.

And why did she always think of ways to hurt his balls? It was like a fetish. Maybe she should transfer to the sexual health unit, help fight herpes in teenagers under fifteen.

By the time Tamara had finished her unusual and slightly disturbing rant in her head, they were already in the lobby, meeting up with the others.

Tamara just hoped there would be wine at the dinner. Lots of it if she was to get through the night.

----

"You can't be drunk after three wine glasses." Josh asked in disbelief, his face forming a confused, kind of cute frown.

"What can I say, I'm a lightweight," Tamara giggled, throwing in a stumble just for dramatic effect.

In all honesty, she'd been more drunk at her cousin Edna's wedding, when she hid in the closet for half an hour with one of the ring bearers and shared a bottle of gin and tonic.

Tamara knew she was sober, the wine hadn't even had an effect. She just really wanted the bed.

By acting tipsy, she was hoping to succeed in that.

Then Josh spoke.

"Well, you better not sleep in the bed then in case you throw up or something." His face was gleeful, filled with so much delight she contemplated upchucking on the soft, white sheets just to wipe the smirk off his face.

Then she remembered how she wasn't actually drunk.

Damn, she knew she should have finished that sparkling wine.

Groaning, Tamara slumped onto the bed and pouted at Josh. "Okay, so I'm not really drunk. Or a lightweight. I just really want the bed." Looking up at him through lashes, Tamara watched as his face flicked with several different emotions, finally settling on indifference.

"Fine, but you have to do one thing for me," he warned, and Tamara shot up, grinning like mad.

"Done!"

Josh rose an eyebrow, leaning against the couch. "How do you not know if I was going to say jump on my balls or something?"

Tamara blushed, and Josh was clearly enjoying her embarrassment.

"I meant it in a harmful way, not a pleasurable one, dickhead."

"There you go again about my private area. I'm starting to think you're obsessed with my-"

"Just go have a shower so I can brush my teeth." Tamara groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Josh laughed his way into the bathroom, thinking he was oh-so-funny and mighty.

Asshole.

Once she heard the door lock and shower running, Tamara slipped out of her dress and pulled on her pajamas, an old shirt with the logo of her old university on it.

Pulling up the covers, Tamara slipped under the covers, sighing in content when the fluffy sheets settled around her like a warm cocoon.

She was almost asleep when Josh reappeared, pajama bottoms adorning his body. And nothing else.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Tamara tried to maintain a serene face and act asleep so he couldn't see how her eyes wanted to glue to his body and stay there.

She listened as he switched off the light and the couch rustled for a while before there was a sigh and the room fell silent.

Tamara was a live wire, tense under the comfortable blankets as she listened to Josh's breathing even out as he lay not even five metres away. 

And then, she started to get pissed off.

So she scores the bed, and he's the one who can fall asleep that easy and get a great night snoozing before the conference tomorrow?

Irony is such a bastard sometimes.

Eventually, after lots of tossing and turning, Tamara felt her eyes drifting shut, and she welcomed sleep with open arms as she fell into a peaceful slumber.

She didn't know how many hours later, but she woke to the feel of the bed dipping.

Then an arm fell around her waist, and Tamara gasped.

--------

So I haven't updated this story since the 1800's, it seems. This is the next chapter, and sorry if it's not the best, but hey, trying to watch CSI and write at the same time just. Isn't. Possible.

Horacio, my man, you make one damn good detective. Who else could find a piece of barley in a pile of dirt?

I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for taking the time for reading my story and this weird authers note! Feedback and comments and votes are greatly appreciated!

:)