Three's a Crowd (or) There's Always Room for One More by Red For six long, beautiful months, Jenny had been Julian's. He couldn't believe his luck. After years of stalking her, begging her and forcing her to play games, all it had taken was a slight tap on the head (courtesy of Dee snapping and throwing Audrey out of the window for complaining about a blob of Mayo on her shoe. The unfortunate girl had landed on Jenny and caused temporary amnesia) and a bribe consisting of ten tonnes of chocolate sauce, which had been easy to acquire at a very cheap price. Julian just wished he knew who Damon Salvatore's source was. Of course, Tom deciding that he was gay only helped matters. Jenny had yelled and screamed at the boy, slapped Zach - who had been clinging onto Tom's arm at the time (and Julian couldn't believe that none of them had guessed about Zach - didn't they know artists were meant to be angst ridden and have a preference for young men? Well, the ones he knew did, at any rate), and then flounced off, muttering about going to a real man where she was appreciated. That was when Audrey plummeted from the sky, and Jenny, forgetting that Julian was her mortal enemy, had run into his open arms. He'd used the bribe when she'd regained her memory. Tom had dumped Zach only a month or so after and had unexpectedly turned his attentions to Julian, stalking him and sending him small gifts. Poor Zach was in therapy and had turned to a small transvestite by the name of Mimi to get over it. Currently, Julian was perched on his gigantic waterbed and watching Jenny and Tom scream at each other, a bemused expression on his face. "But Thorny," Tom whined. "You've had him for so long, and you don't pay any attention to me anymore. I need someone to love. I want him." His lower lip jutted out obstinately, and Julian wondered vaguely if he was going to stamp his foot in a child-like manner. This was getting a little out of hand, Julian decided firmly. Sure, Tom was good looking and attractive, and quite frankly that pout was giving Julian urges to pounce on the boy and ravage him. But there was the principal of the matter. Julian was a Shadowman. He did the chasing, not whatever mortals happen to cross his path. Or mortals he happened to stalk since childhood, he amended. His shrink was working that through with him in his therapy sessions. It was an unhealthy pastime, he knew, and he was trying to curb the habit - something that had drastically reduced in frequency since he finally had Jenny. Julian wasn't used to being chased. The flowers had been flattering, and it wasn't like he could turn down Belgium chocolates, now, was it? But the phone calls at 3am, with Tom breathing heavily down the connection at him, were a little creepy, and he was sure that he'd caught the boy staring through the window during wilder moments with Jenny. He assumed that Tom hadn't yet been through his cherished collection of sequinned dresses and glittery boas. Even Jenny wasn't privy to that little fetish. They were stashed away in a corner of his limitless and magical wardrobe. Truth be told, it was actually the wardrobe that came with his house. Problem was it hadn't been big enough to fit all his clothes in, and he'd had to wage war on some minor Other Dimension and take it over in order to store his clothes. The life forms that had previously inhabited it still lived on in the wardrobe, taking care of his clothes, fixing holes and sewing back on sequins. They were pretty damn good tailors, Julian had to admit. And free. It was one heck of an advantage to take over a Dimension and be hailed as their god. The tragedy was he'd still miscalculated, and much of his clothing was still in storage. Although, if he had been rooting through his wardrobe, that might explain just why Tom had been acting so strangely of late. Julian quickly dismissed the idea. It had taken him three weeks to find Jenny in there when she'd strayed too far in by mistake. Something about finding Narnia, he recalled. It was when she was still in her confused, amnesiac state. Or he hoped it was. He'd expected Tom to be jealous. Which he was. He just hadn't expected him to be jealous of Jenny. And the attention that Tom had been lavishing on him lately had led to her being thoroughly jealous, too. He couldn't go anywhere without Tom turning up and the pair of them making snide remarks at each other. They'd go for a romantic meal, and Tom would be there, disguised as a waiter and dropping the bowl of soup into Jenny's lap. They'd walk on the beach, hand in hand, and Tom would be swimming not far away, poorly disguised as a shark. But he coped. Just. It was Jenny's paranoia that was killing him. he couldn't even go out for a beer with his old pal Damon without Jenny calling his mobile to be sure he wasn't with Tom. The one time he'd left it at home, she'd taken it to him, explaining that how the heck was she supposed to get in touch with him if he left it on the hall table? He missed his old Jenny. Even the dim-witted amnesiac Jenny was better than this one. Jealousy just didn't suit her. It certainly didn't suit him. He'd not been able to wear his favourite outfit in two weeks because she'd been lurking over his shoulder practically all the time. It was depressing him. He needed his glitter, feather and sequin fix. Something had to be done. He yelped and leaped from the bed as Tom hurled Jenny's stiletto over her shoulder. It narrowly missed him, but the three inch heel embedded itself firmly in the bed, which promptly sprung a leak. Julian cursed as he watched the geyser spurt up high, hitting the mirror on the ceiling. Damn, but water smears were so annoyingly difficult to get off mirrors. Something definitely had to be done. His train of thought was interrupted as he dodged yet another missile - this time Tom's boot. How Jenny had gotten that off so quickly, Julian couldn't begin to speculate. Practice, he guessed. Why the missiles were aimed at him, he wasn't entirely sure, either. Poor aim, he hoped. Jenny's other stiletto embedding itself barely an inch from his head, and the ensuing screams caused him to dive for cover. Julian whimpered quietly in the corner as the two pulled at each other's hair and slapped each other childishly. He didn't know how much more he could take. It shouldn't have surprised him this would happen, really. After all, Julian was one helluva a good-looking guy, and his psychological problems were outweighed by the fact he was a complete God in bed. Well, he was a complete God anyway, just especially so in bed. An idea hit him. He pondered for a second, turned the idea upside down in his head, then allowed a smug grin to cross over his face. Why the hell not, he thought, and rose in a graceful, fluid motion, breaking the pair up from their cat-fight. "Hey, why don't you both have me?" He suggested seductively. "Huh?" Tom and Jenny blinked at the Shadowman. "There's plenty enough of me to go around." He informed them generously. "You mean...share you?" Tom asked, visibly considering. "Share you with...him?" Jenny pouted. "Why not?" Julian shrugged. "He's good looking and has a great body. Just think what you could do with two studs." Jenny's frown immediately lifted. "Wow." She murmured. "Two hot guys, both great in bed...hee hee." "So, we're agreed, then?" Julian asked, then beamed when both nodded. "Wonderful. Just one thing, though, Tommy." "What?" "You have got to get a halfway decent wardrobe. That shirt is so not you. I think I can see you in sequins...if you'll step this way..." He said fastidiously, opening up his huge, endless wardrobe and dragging Tom inside. The End.