Problem Solving

"Guys, I'm having a problem with my love life."

What Moses hated was the way they all stopped and stared at him. As if he wasn't supposed to have a love life to have problems with. As if the announcement was so totally out of the blue -

"Wow," Mystel commented, "That was totally out of the blue."

Moses attempted to glare at him, but there was water in his eyes and he really couldn't muster the rage.

"Well, um, what kind of problem," Garland intervened helpfully, shooting Mystel a shut-up-or-no-nookie type of look. Thank you, Garland. Wonderful, never before fully appreciated, definitely deserving of a muffin basket Garland.

Only now, he was going to have to explain it.

Stupid Garland.

"Umm." Moses rubbed at the back of his neck with the washcloth. "Um, the problem is, see, that it..isn't." Mystel and Garland gave him synchronised quizzical stares. Brooklyn was somewhere under the water, but presumably tuning in to the conversation on whatever frequency he usually occupied, and seemed to be sending him the mental equivalent of said quizzical stares.

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I don't have a love life," he admitted, focusing on thoroughly soaping the washcloth so as to avoid the looks. And to adhere to the rules of the hot springs bath they were currently patronising, which happened to be one of the type that insisted its customers not only lounged about in the mind-steamingly hot water, but also got clean, too. They'd only ended up there because of Garland, anyway. The team captain, being a pathological organiser, had decided that while everyone was in town for Tyson's annual Xmas-'n'-New-Year-Reunion-Boozefest, they were going to do something As A Team. Whether they liked it or not. Mimi had been spared to some extent, as she was in the Ladies' springs next door, and didn't have to deal with his present company.

Cow.

"Well...how come?" Moses risked looking up, only to catch Mystel grinning at him like a split orange.

"I - what d'you mean, I just haven't, I mean.." he paused and scowled; the kid was bouncing up and down on one of the rocks at the side of the pool. Since actually managing to hook up with Garland at the (now infamous) New Year's party, he'd been absolutely shameless. And at least twice as insufferable. "...Okay, forget it."

"No, no, we should - " Garland, having sloshed over to the poolside as well, grabbed one of the Egyptian's ankles and yanked him unceremoniously back into the water, slightly red-faced. " - help. We should. We're your team, remember?" There was a great deal of spluttering from where Mystel had been inelegantly reintroduced to the pool, but the captain ignored it and began working soap into the roots of his long hair.

"Yeah, unfortunately I remember that all the time," Moses groused, rinsing one shoulder and frowning as he nearly knocked over a decorative plant. "It's alright for you guys. I mean - d'you think I should lose some weight, or something?"

"..Um, why?" Garland seemed genuinely puzzled. Mystel had struck karma and gotten tangled in his own hair. Brooklyn had gone AWOL somewhere, possibly still underwater, but that was quite normal anyway.

Moses shifted uncomfortably, and glanced at what he could see of his arms and chest.

"To be more - you know, girl-attracting?" Garland considered this for a moment, then shook his head slowly.

"No, girls like muscles. Or so Kylie's room papered with pictures of Bruce Willis would suggest." Moses sighed.

"But it's, I mean, none of you ever seem to have any trouble..."

He let that one trail off. It was alright, he considered, for the willowy little wretches that made up the rest of his team. Okay, so Mimi dieted like crazy, but she wasn't what he'd call chubby to begin with. And Gar was quite heavy, relatively speaking, but that was because he trained all the time and was composed of solid muscle. But Mystel ate like a pig, even if he did run around all day. And Brooklyn, Lord of Unfairness, had the kind of physique that could eat chocolate for a month and come out at a lightly toned hundred and twenty pounds.

Bastards.

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Um, nothing," Moses muttered hastily, realising that separating thought from speech was a concept he should really look into. "It's just not fair."

"What isn't," Garland inquired absently, busy disentangling Mystel from the floating Medusa of platinum blonde.

Moses decided he'd better just say it.

"You all got laid at the New Year's party and I didn't!"

That got their attention. His two nearest teammates stopped, again, and stared, again. Mystel was first to unfreeze.

"Whoa. You mean you didn't hit up on that French chick?" Moses stared back at him, confused.

"What?"

"Olivier is a guy," Garland explained patiently, "And no, apparently not." He redirected his attention to Moses. "So who did you kiss when the countdown finished, then?" The alcohol-hazed memory cleared a little.

"...The Spanish girl, what's her name. Julia. But she seemed kinda distracted." Garland looked uncomfortable suddenly.

"Well, um, maybe she - "

"Oh, Julia? We had sex. She's nice."

For once, Moses wasn't glad everyone was staring at someone else. Brooklyn had chosen that moment to reappear from under the water, rinsing henna shampoo from his hair, and dropping into the conversation at about his usual level of helpfulness.

Meaning, not helpful at all.

Actually, the kind of helpful that made Moses want to just reach out and snap his neck, sorry about that, nothing personal but I just had to kill you.

"...That could be it," Garland agreed weakly, several seconds later. Moses shook his head.

"No, it probably won't solve anything."

Everyone looked at him again. Ah. Apparently he had separated speech and thought that time.

"I mean, um, nothing." Mystel, several steps behind, blinked.

"Wow, wait, you hit that?"

"Uh huh."

"Whoah." The team captain narrowed his eyes curiously.

"Mystel, why're you surprised? They were making out under the pool table for about ten minutes when Hiro went out to deal with the managers complaining about the noise." Moses, having realised that this conversation was blissfully no longer about him, retreated gladly into the role of audience.

He'd been watching a bit too much Jerry Springer.

"Oh, well I didn't notice, and anyway - "

"He's surprised," Brooklyn interrupted, flicking water at Mystel, "Because he thinks I'm gay."

"I do not," the Egyptian retorted hotly, lobbing a nearby washcloth at his teammate, who dodged it.

"I don't know why you would, anyway," was the imperious response. Garland snorted.

"Oh, I have no idea. Maybe smooching Enrique was a bit of a hint? Or Rei? Or Miguel? How about Bryan?"

"I've never seen Tala turn that colour before," Mystel noted thoughtfully.

"Okay, okay, so how about Mathilda, and Hillary, and the scary American girl, and - "

"No, wait, so - "

"But didn't she - "

None of them noticed Moses rolling his eyes and leaving the pool.

"No, no, she was the one with..you know, that pink hair?" Mystel looked puzzled.

"Oh, hey - hey Moses! Come on in, the water's nice - "

"You mean, Mathilda again? Or Mariah? Cause I made out with at least one of them, I think it was Mariah." Brooklyn paused for thought, frowning slightly.

"Um, I thought her name was Judy."

"Yeah, I heard you all talking next door, and I just, uh - "

"No, she's blonde. Max's mother," Garland intervened firmly, "And that still doesn't account for you - " he pointed at Mystel "Snogging Spencer under the mistletoe at the Christmas party, or you - " he waved to indicate his other remaining teammate "Getting nailed up, down, sideways and every other direction by Hiro."

"I mean, Ian's nice, but once we'd both sobered up, we - "

"Yes, well, I have to do something - "

"Or get done by something," Mystel giggled.

" - While the two of you are busy making it like rabbits in every available broom closet."

"But you're really, you know..and I thought we maybe -"

"Alright, alright, alright. Next time Tyson has one of these parties, neither of you are allowed to go. Do I make myself clear?" There was only the briefest of brief pauses before Mystel and Brooklyn exchanged glances, decided that neither of them were above mutiny, and commenced hurling bathing products at their captain.

"Oh like hell that's going to happen!"

"...No, no, I think they're still arguing next door, they'll never hear - "

"Aargh!" Garland tried to calmly ward off the offending cosmetics with his arms, but quickly found himself outgunned.

"Yeah, it's okay, let's - "

"Aim for the hair!"

"Mmm...that's, yeah, yeah - "

Fuck this.

"Yes, mmm, yeah oh - "

He grabbed a nearby sponge, soaked it in water from the cold accumulated puddle at the pool edge, and hurled it.

"Ohh, oh, yes, Moses, ohh mmm - "

"Eee!" Mystel squealed and once again met poolwater in an undignified fashion. "No faiiir!"

"Ohhh yes oh, yes, yes yeeeaaahh oh - "

Garland had grabbed another sponge and was ready to throw it when he noticed the sudden lack of projectile bathing accessories aimed in his direction.

"Mmm, mm, yes, Moses - "

"...Do you guys hear that too?" Mystel - having resurfaced - and Garland - having dropped the sponge out of sheer surprise - nodded slowly.

"Yes, yes, ohh yes - "

"Are they...?"

"..Yes, yes, yes - "

"Sounds like it," the team captain confirmed, stunned.

"Ohhh YES - !"

"Well," Mystel murmured, grinning at the other two, "We're meant to be doing something As A Team, right?"

"Oh, Moses..."

Garland backed away, waving his hands as if to keep his younger teammates away. "No, no, that's not what I - definitely not what I - "

"Ohh, that's so..mm..."

"Y - you can't mean, there's three of us, Mystel, I'm not going to - "

"When - just there, y - "

"Hey guys, Kylie said I'd find you here, so..." Hiro, having just appeared from the changing rooms, paused. "Umm, guys? What's - "

"No, no, now is just fineeeeeaaaaaaahh - "

Mystel tackled Garland.

"Definitely fine - "

Hiro, distracted by both that and the peculiar noises issuing from next door, was completely defenceless to the pale hand that emerged from the water and seized him by the throat, yanking him into a decidedly uncompromising kiss. "...Whoah!"

"Mmm - "

"There a problem, Coach?"

"Say, does this - ohhh - solve your problem, Moses - "

"No, no, mmm, no problem - "

"No problem - "

"No problem at all."

NOTES:

Er, may feather-duster point out before she is murdered that is was meant to be a nice group-bonding humour fic. Not an orgy in a hot springs. These people are slippery, in more ways than one. If you're after the real nice-group-bonding thing, check out Morning People instead. Sorry!

Yup, this is a sort of sequel to Happy Fricken' New Year. Reading that is not essential, but hey, insert propoganda here.

feather-duster thinks Kylie fancies Bruce Willis, mmhmm. Don't tell anyone, it's a secret.

Yes, 120lbs is pretty light if my calculations are okay; Brook-chan is built like a clothes rail, live with it.

Yes, yes, yes, those noises from next door are rather inappropriate. What is going on with Mimi lately? Oh well...

There was going to be another note here but feather-duster has forgotten what it was. If anyone sees it, PM me!

Dixon, I swear I'm working on your request. Just having a little technical difficulty. It'll be done soon.

Review and I love you, so let's have an orgy in the hot springs!