• Please remember my characterizations are based on nothing but my imagination of the characters I see on TV.  I don’t hate the McMahon family, or anyone else I portray in a less than flattering light.
• John has some horrible nightmares and flashbacks
• A little insight in to the McMahon family
• Hunter’s still being the protective big brother
• Any time I get to use a Korn song, I’m a happy gal
• This one’s working title was Strange Bedfellows
• Another awesome graphic from Nan, her newest to me.  Much love!

Feedback: always appreciated!  In other words, yes please. 

Everyone's corrupt
You should just shut up
Lay down, back off
The demon you disrupted

Don't want to talk about politics
Don't preach or talk about politics
Don't make me talk about politics
Don't give a shit about politics

You want to sleep with him to get to who you need to know
Think that's the way to go don't you?
It's in religion, sex, and everything we do and say
I look the other way won't you?

Politics-Korn
 

He woke drenched in sweat as the memory of his own personal torment faded.  He was still ashamed, even after all this time and assurances from the top talent that it wasn’t held against him.   

He remembered his shock and embarrassment when ’Taker asked him.  He first tried to deny it, but in the face of that angry glare, he wilted. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, John.  I'll take care of it.  I thought that shit stopped years ago," ‘Taker said quietly.  John flicked his glance over to the large man driving and saw nothing but compassion in his eyes.  That fact surprised him.  He thought if others knew, they'd be disgusted and he'd have an even tougher time than he already did.  He'd never spoken of it to anyone before and he thought he'd managed to bury the memory, but the Dead Man had purposely hunted him down tonight to ask him in the quiet, empty SmackDown locker room. 

John had watched the large quiet man walk toward him with dread.  Had he done something to piss him off?  Did he fuck up his spots so bad that the Phenom was gonna educate him personally?  He’d seen how some of the punishment was doled out by JBL and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.  JBL had said repeatedly that they were getting off easy.  If the Undertaker was there, he beat them just for fun because that’s how he was.  Here was that same presence purposely hunting him down.  John knew that the rest of the locker-room had cleared out long ago.  He stayed late going over every spot, every toss and throw in his head before he felt ready to shower and leave. 

“How you doing tonight, Cena,” ‘Taker asked the new comer.  John tried to hide his case of nerves by rearranging his bag and making sure all his shit fit in.  It didn’t take very long since he didn’t have much and it all fit easily. 

“Okay.  I’m sorry if I fucked,” was all he got out before the large man waved his words away. 

“That’s not why I’m here.  You did fine.  You took what I gave like a veteran,” ‘Taker rumbled quietly.  John looked at the big man in disbelief.  He must be teasing him, right?  ‘Taker held his gaze and nodded.  John narrowed his eyes at the older man as he tried to decide why the most feared and revered superstar on the roster searched him out after their match. 

“Did you need me to do something for you,” John asked, thinking that was the only other thing that would cause the man to hunt him down.  He’d already been through a ton of hazing, but maybe this was more of it.  ‘Taker shook his head in disgust at the younger man.  He realized JBL had already started to distort this one’s view of the business and he’d put a stop to it, now he knew about it.  He’d been busy with his own shit at home and hadn’t been paying attention when the latest crop of young guns had been brought up.  Now he’d untangled himself from some stupid business decisions, he felt ready to reassume his leadership role. 

“No, none of that shit.  No matter what you’ve heard, I am not the biggest asshole in the world,” ‘Taker said quietly.  He decided he’d be less imposing if he sat, so he grabbed a chair across from John.  “Do you need to be somewhere,” ‘Taker asked.  He worried that he might miss his ride or a night out with the boys. 

“Nah, not tonight,” John said.  He refrained from sharing that JBL had let it be known that Cena didn’t need to go out to get laid, he got it right at work.  JBL did stop short of naming names, but the damage was done.  John didn’t realize that ‘Taker was already aware of the shit that had been spread by JBL.  It was what prompted the little meeting tonight. 

“Good, because I have something I want to talk to you about.”  The big man held the other’s gaze until John looked away uncomfortably.  “I’m not here to hurt you, like I said.  That’s not me.  Well, it hasn’t been me for years,” he chuckled.   

‘Taker looked down at his boots and tried to decide how to broach the delicate subject.  He also wanted to let John know that in spite of all of that, he would be more than happy to step in the ring with him.  On a sudden inspiration, he decided to tell a story, like he did with his boys when they’d done something dumb or he needed to get the point across subtly. 

“I have a story I want to tell you, if you have the time,” the big man said quietly.  John blinked, he didn’t know what to say about hearing a story from the Dead Man.  Was he gonna hear about the good old days of smoking and drinking and whorin’?  He hoped not.  He’d heard enough of that from JBL to last him a lifetime, especially since he didn’t think most of it was true.  He’d never met women that limber or that willing before and he met a lot of women in his twenty five years.  John slowly nodded and sat back in his chair, sensing that it might be a long story. 

John held his tongue as ‘Taker told him a story about an impatient man too full of piss and vinegar for his own good.  He knew how to get where he wanted to go and what he wanted to be.  At first John thought ‘Taker was telling a story about himself, but he realized that he was hearing how a young Undertaker worked his way up in the business, through set backs and injuries.  How he knew he was ready for the big time, the WWF and fame and all the fortune that went with it. 

“Pretty soon, I got a call from them.  They told me I was expected to present myself at their headquarters in Connecticut.  It didn’t matter that I didn’t have the plane fare; they didn’t want to hear that shit.  I was also told that I would have an audience with the CEO of company.  Well shit, I thought it couldn’t get any better than that.  Getting to see Vince McMahon face to face?  I borrowed the money from our measly savings and flew my ass up before the end of that week.  I put on my Sunday best because…well because I was getting to see Vince McMahon and I wanted to look my best.”  John nodded along, he understood.  He’d felt the same way.   

“This was the big time and I didn’t want to blow it.”  John listened as ‘Taker described his first impressions of the newly constructed headquarters.  He shared his awe at the size of the place.  John knew that fifteen years or so ago, it was little more than an office building, but to a up and coming wrestler, it must have looked imposing. 

“I was shown where to sit,” ‘Taker looked at the man across from him and smiled.  “Fucking chairs didn’t fit me, but I had to try,” he smirked.  John could only smile and nod, he wasn’t as large so he didn’t run into that problem as often, but he knew his buddy Dave did. 

“Someone finally took pity on me or something because the receptionist finally came and got me.  I followed her past several offices filled with loud voices.  It was intimidating, but I wasn’t gonna let it get to me because I was finally at the big time.  After a quick knock at a door, I was ushered inside and the receptionist withdrew.  That was when I got my first shock,” ‘Taker said quietly.  To himself he was thinking, easy now, don’t go too fast for him and make him deny or retreat.  That’s not what this is about tonight. 

“I wasn’t sure what to expect, some nameless office type?  I don’t know.  But I damn sure wasn’t expecting to see a McMahon right off the bat.”  ‘Taker let the silence stretch as he watched many emotions flicker in the blue eyes across from him.  John was with him and enjoying the story until he got to the office part and meeting a McMahon.  He knew that Shane hadn’t taken an active role back then.  He was still in college or was he just barely out of it and Steph was too young still.  That only left one McMahon besides Vince.  John tried to swallow the huge lump that was in his throat.  Oh shit, did he know?  Did she somehow tell him?  Oh shit, what could he do?  Could he deny it?  Would he believe him? 

“Yeah, I see you’re as surprised as I was.  I thought I was meeting Vince, but Linda greeted me in the office that day.  I thought she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.  Yeah, she was older, but I still thought she was something.  And the way she talked?  Damn, I was a melted puddle of butter after she held her hand out to me and introduced herself.”  ‘Taker waited several more moments as he watched his young protégé’s face as he tried to school his features.  He was good, but he wasn’t that good yet. 

“Linda had a contract to sign all ready for me on the desk between us.  It looked great to me.  Hell, it meant I’d be able to feed my family and my wife could stay home with the baby like we both wanted.  Linda handed me the pen across the desk, but held on to it with a smile.  I didn’t know what she wanted so I looked up at her and saw her predatory grin.  I didn’t know it then, but it was something I’d never forget.”   

John stopped breathing as the big man told his tale of Linda and her contract all ready for his signature.  Sweet Jesus, did she do that to all the talent? 

‘Taker continued, “She asked me if I thought she was pretty or something like that.  Well, my momma didn’t raise a fool, especially a rude fool, so I told her I thought she was beautiful.  She threw her head back and laughed at that.”  ‘Taker paused in his story and looked off in to space, knowing that he was right on target with his concerns about Cena and he was furious, but he’d deal with that later.  First he needed to get through this and then he’d set shit straight, from the top down, he growled to himself.   

John had finally remembered to breathe, but he was held captive by a story so familiar to his own.  He heard the man across from him growl, forcing him to sit back in his chair, not sure what was coming but he had a horrible idea. 

“Linda came around the desk and sat on the edge, making damn sure I saw her skirt slide up,” ‘Taker smirked.  “I thought I was a man of the world, but I was a babe in the woods.  I had no idea what type of serpent was sitting in front of me.”  ‘Taker slid his gaze over to the other man and knew he had his attention and he saw that Cena was pale. 

“I don’t fucking remember all of the shit that day,” he lied.  He knew he’d never forget every single humiliating second of it, but he didn’t need to explore all of that tonight.  He was pretty sure Cena wouldn’t forget his dance with the devil either.  ‘Taker waved his hands slightly as he continued, “But it turned out that some of my other talents were required that day.  At first I didn’t understand what she meant, but when she pushed me back on to the coffee table in her office and straddled my lap, the meaning behind her words became crystal clear.”  Several long seconds of silence greeted the big man’s words.  He kept his opinions to himself for now and decided to finish. 

“I was an infant in comparison, John.  An innocent.  I thought that she just wanted that one time.  One time and I’d get my contract and I could go back to my family and never tell my wife or anybody else about it.  I wasn’t proud of it, but I wanted it so bad, so I was willing to do just about anything.  Unfortunately, she knew it and used it and me.  She told me I needed to report to work next week.  I didn’t understand again, but she told me in plain English she expected the same services from me that I had just given her.  That’s when I knew I was fucked, good and truly fucked.  I didn’t have my contract yet and I was expected to come back next week and screw the big boss’s wife again?  Sounds good, but it wasn’t what I wanted.  That’s not how I wanted to get my dream job.  I’d earned the right and she was cheating me out of it.  Damn, I was pissed.  Pissed at her, but more pissed at myself for being so God damned stupid,” ‘Taker said and waited.  He watched his words and the effect they were having on the younger man.  He could see he was torn, and he wasn’t going to help him make up his mind.  He’d have to do that for himself. 

John was reeling from the big man’s story.  It was inconceivable that Linda had demanded the same type of payment from The Dead Man years ago.  It just couldn’t happen, could it?  Could she?  Would she?  Hell, he already knew the answer to that.  She had and she did.  He tensed as he thought of the reasons why the big man was confiding in him.  Had she told him about her recent trial of his services?  Did she think she would get more out of him?   

John swallowed nervously and had to ask, "So what did you do?" 

"I had a family to feed, a family that depended on me."  Eyes tinged with bitterness met the younger man's.  "Plus, I was so God damned stupid I thought that if I just went along, she'd get me my contract."  ‘Taker stopped speaking abruptly and waited the younger man out.  Now was the time for the other man to say something and he was willing to wait.  ‘Taker watched John open and close his mouth several times with out comment.  He watched as the younger man swallowed hugely. 

"How long," John whispered.  Both men knew exactly what he was referring to.  ‘Taker grimaced before answering.

"A month.  It took me a month to get my contract.  After that first week, she wanted me to report to work, as she called it, everyday."  ‘Taker's lips thinned as he kept his anger in check.  He kept his eyes glued to the man sitting in front of him and waited him out.  After several more minutes of silence, ‘Taker spoke up. 

"You got something you want to tell me, John?"  At his words, the younger man shook his head in vehement denial. 

"You sure about that," ‘Taker asked him again. 

John held his look for several seconds before he looked away in defeat.  Damn, how had he known?  Who else knew, was an even bigger worry. 

"Who else knows," John voiced.  ‘Taker shrugged. 

"No one.  No matter what JBL says, he doesn't know.  He's just fishing and doing his best to piss you off."  John head snapped up at those words and he glared.  "Worked, didn't it," ‘Taker asked his protégé. 

"Yeah, yeah it did," John admitted.  John was still reeling from the information that Linda had used ‘Taker as she had used him, so he was still trying to fit all the pieces together.  His mouth spoke before his brain caught up as he said, "Why are you telling me this shit?" 

"Because you need to hear it," ‘Taker said quietly.  He was restless and frustrated because he didn't think he’d gotten through to Cena, as he'd hoped. 

"Why," John asked, still not admitting anything out loud, or so he thought. 

"Because no matter what that bitch has told you, or what she has threatened you with, you're a damn good wrestler, John.  None of what she said means a damn thing.  It didn't then and it sure as hell doesn't now," ‘Taker finished with a growl and stood up.   

"You think Vince knows," John asked finally as he saw the big man reach for the door to leave.  ‘Taker sighed and turned back into the room. 

"You think it's a coincidence that you're still here on SmackDown when your two buddies are already on RAW," ‘Taker said quietly.   

Damn, ‘Taker had just voiced his own worries.  He had tried to rationalize it out, but the fact of the matter was that Dave and Randy were on Raw and he was still on SmackDown.  John blinked in surprise as he watched the big man ball his fist and punch a wall next to the lockers, leaving a large hole as he withdrew his hand. 

"Vince promised me!  That bastard promised me he'd rein her in.  But she's still up to her same shit," ‘Taker growled as he slowly unclenched his fist. 

"Vince knows," John asked almost in a squeak.  He was still struggling with that fact. 

"Fuck yeah.  Isn't it obvious?  If you think hard enough I bet you can guess some of her other playmates," ‘Taker said in disgust.  John sat still for a minute and tried to run through the roster and there were a couple who jumped out at him. 

"Angle," the word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.  The other man nodded. 

"If it makes you feel any better, she didn't even try with your buddy Orton.  Daddy's connections are what helped his ass, not his other talents," ‘Taker said.  John nodded and replayed what the big man had just said and specifically what he didn't say. 

"You mean...you think she tried with Big Dave," John said in awe.  She was stupid if she thought she could compete with his buddy's wife and his legendary control.   

"Oh yeah.  From the shit I hear, he told her no thank you.  Bet that was a first for her.  But it also means he made an enemy out of her.  McMahon’s don't like to be told no.  If you see him, tell him that and to watch his back," ‘Taker said. 

John nodded, his mind was reeling with all the new information.  "JBL," he asked the big man. 

"Oh, hell no," ‘Taker said.  "Isn't it obvious?  He's jealous as all hell that she didn't ask him.  So he takes it out on you guys.  That shit will stop, John.  You have my word on it.  The other shit?  That will stop also.  Vince and I are overdue for a talk and I'll make damn sure he's aware."   

John nodded, but stayed silent as he heard the big man.  He was exhausted and needed to drag his ass to bed, but first he needed to find a ride back to the hotel or call a taxi. 

‘Taker noticed his protégé’s eyes becoming unfocused, reminding him it'd been too long since either of them had any sleep. 

"You need a ride back to the hotel," ‘Taker asked.  John nodded slowly, too tired to do more than that.  ‘Taker sighed and nodded at the younger man to follow him out to his rental, since they were the last of the on air talent to leave.  There were still the technicians, stage hands and a few dozen other dedicated folks working furiously, trying to get all the gear back in the trucks by the deadline so they could do it all over again tomorrow. 

The ride back to the hotel was quiet after the initial assurance, partly because both men were tired and partly because both were wrapped up in their own worries.  John was glad that ‘Taker had sought him out, even though he dreaded it initially.  He was still reeling from the idea that Linda had used her couch and coffee table for other contract negotiations.  He still worried about what his family would say if they ever learned that their first born son had slept his way into the WWE.  Well, slept wasn’t exactly correct, he reminded himself.  Fucked his way was more accurate.  It wasn’t something he was proud of and as he thought about it, he realized he understood what ‘Taker was trying to tell him with his story.  It was okay to be angry about it.  It wasn’t his fault.  He was still working on that part, since he had participated.  Maybe a bit reluctantly, but he didn’t put a stop to it because he was so worried about his precious fuckin’ job. 

‘Taker turned over all that he had told Cena in his head and wanted to make sure he didn’t scare him off from the business.  He thought the kid had the charisma that the company needed, but he needed to step on a few necks backstage and reassume his position.  JBL had overstepped his boundaries again.  He didn’t know why he was surprised, JBL always pushed, he seemed unable to not needle the new guys.  Slight initiation was one thing, but punishment for imagined transgressions was something else and he needed to be reminded of his place, again.  When would he just fuckin’ grow up?  His ex-wife had left him because of that and ‘Taker didn’t blame JBL’s woman one bit.  He had to be with him five days a week and that was four and half days too long in his mind.  Damn, this was exactly the part of the business he despised; all the damn politics and egos.  The old guys trying desperately to hang on to what little they had left and sabotaging the young guys before they even had a chance to shine.  Cena was a prime example.  He just hoped he was able to undo some of the damage caused by inflated egos.  He’d been watching Cena and Orton and Batista, but hadn’t had the time to get to know any of them very well.  Before he knew it, two of them had been shipped off to RAW to shine and Cena had been left behind for no apparent reason.  He’d heard whispers, but he didn’t want to believe the serpent was up to her old tricks, but the proof was nodding in the seat next to him. 

John grabbed his pillow and punched it into a more comfortable shape, hoping his night time ritual would help him go back to sleep.  He laid awake, turning over some of his recent encounters with Linda and knew exactly why he'd had that particular dream again. 

“Hi, John,” Linda smiled as she touch his cheek with familiarity.  Linda knew she was safe, no one was around yet.  She knew Cena’s routine.  She made it her business to keep track of the talent, for her own reasons.   

He smiled at her slightly, more out of politeness than anything else.  He certainly didn’t want to encourage her but he didn’t want to piss her off too much either.  John noticed she was in one of her business suits, the kind that were shockingly short for a woman of her age, or at least he thought so.  Her hand strayed to his shoulder and brought his attention back to her. 

“How are you doing, John?  You never come see me any more,” she teased him.  He kept his smile firmly in place and shook his head at her obvious invitation.  She continued to let her hand wander over his shoulder and neck.  She smirked as she traced her nails along his neck and down to his chest.  John stepped back in a hurry. 

“Um, Misses McMahon,” John said quickly, hoping to remind her of her position and the fact that they weren’t in a private room.  She might not want to have her husband see her groping the talent, at least John hoped not.  Linda locked her eyes on him and smiled. 

“Still jumpy, are we?  After all this time, too?  Pity.  I thought you might have gotten over that little peccadillo by now,” Linda said in a low voice.  She stepped close to John again and resumed her unwanted touches.  She ignored his attempts to shrug her off.   

John reached up and pulled her hand away from his nipple that had been tweaked and twisted by her.  That he didn’t need, not from her, ever again, thank you.  Her deep laughter at his actions made his skin crawl.  He’d never forget her laughter.  She’d tormented him and enjoyed every damn minute of it.  He looked around quickly, hoping to spot someone, anyone to divert her attention to.  He spotted Stephanie walking their way and blew out a silent breath in relief. 

“Hi mom,” Steph said with a big grin that John didn’t understand.  She licked her lips surveying him.  He noticed her actions but thought nothing of it, since it was something he was getting used to.  “Just like you promised,” Steph said cryptically. 

“Not quite.  Poor boy’s still a little jumpy,” Linda purred as her hand slid from his chest.  Her intention was obvious and John’s grabbed her hand to stop her.  He frowned at her without saying any words, hoping he’d get his meaning across without having to come out and say it in front of her daughter. 

“Maybe, I can help with that,” Steph giggled as she reached out, cupping his balls. John was so startled he didn’t react initially.  After a split second he stepped away from both of the women, shaking his head. 

“Ladies, I don’t think this is the time or the place for that shit, do you,” he said quietly. 

“Why not,” Steph said with a pout.  “I hear you’re single, available and damn easy.  Plus,” she said as her voice dropped low, “I hear you got something I might like.”  Steph brought the hand that had groped him up to her lips and licked her fingers, slowly, like she was licking the flavor from them.  John stared in fascination for a moment.  It was too surreal to be happening again.

***

“John, wake up,” a distant voice said.  “Johnny, wake up,” the same voice said louder this time.  “It’s only a dream.  Wake up, honey.”  John’s eyes opened, seeing his baby leaning over him, concern for him etched on her face.  John licked his lips, making sure he was able to answer her. 

“Thanks, Baby,” John rumbled, reaching for her check.  He laid his hand on her cheek, thumb on her lips.  She shook her head at him and his actions, moving away from his touch. 

“You okay?  You want to talk about it,” Carrie asked quietly.  She’d heard his mumbling while she’d been reading in the living room.  His mumbling had gotten louder and more frenzied quickly, causing her to check on him.  What she found was a man in some kind of nightmare, terrified of something and unable to get away fast enough thanks to being tangled in the sheets. 

John looked away from her concern, uncomfortable that he’d had that same damn dream again.  He knew exactly why with the pay per view coming up.  Steph had the habit of putting a single finger to her lips and licking it as she stared at him in recent months.  Her message was clear.  She’d threatened him with ‘pay up or else.’ 

Carrie watched him squirm under her gaze, knowing how it felt to have your reality suddenly threatened by horrors that your subconscious threw at you. 

“You want something to eat,” she asked, knowing the man was a bottomless pit when it came to food. 

“Yeah, Baby.  That’d be good.  Whatcha got,” he asked, sitting up quickly.  He grabbed his pair of discarded sweats to throw on.  Carrie stepped away from him as he stood up naked, turning away quickly.  John watched her actions in silence.  He knew she wasn’t as distant as her action suggested.  Coming in to wake him up from his worst fucking nightmare had proven that.  But when ever he might be naked, she quickly made herself scarce.   

Eddie’s words came back to him often – you gotta understand her.  John frowned, thinking over her conflicting actions.  Fuck, trying to understand the mother of his boys was almost enough to give him nightmares of a different kind.  She was still a mystery, even with a lot of her background filled in for him.  She wasn’t one to share herself.  Shrugging on a t shirt and following her out to the kitchen, he fussed over his insight.  Even now, she was still private and quiet.  He usually had to pry info out of her, if it wasn’t related to her pregnancy or his work.  She was just naturally quiet, something so diametrically opposite from him that he still struggled with it.  He knew she wasn’t quiet to be obstructive.  If he asked, she opened up and told him whatever.  But she didn’t just sit and talk his ear off, just to fill in the empty spaces.  Hell, when he was on a roll, there were precious few empty spaces in their conversations.  How the hell did she stand it at his folk’s house?  There wasn’t much quiet the entire time they’d been there, thanks to all the family being there and even more dropping in for quick visits.  But she’d kept her composure the entire time, even when he’d pushed her with his own raging libido.  How she managed it, he didn’t know but it was another piece to her very complex puzzle.   

John blinked, realizing he’d missed something that she’d just asked him. 

“What was that, sweetheart,” he asked without thinking.  He always called her that, except when Mike was home.  And currently Mike was home, asleep in their bed.  Dumbass. 

Carrie smiled at his endearment, knowing he’d just revealed where his brain had been when she’s asked him if he wanted some of Mike’s strange twice baked potato mixture.  

“I asked you if you wanted some of this weird shit,” she said, holding out a container of cheese, onions and many other things she couldn’t identify. 

“Uh, I dunno.  What is it,” he asked, peeking into the plastic tub for a quick sniff. 

“No idea.  Try it, it’s not gross,” she said, as if that was enough of a qualifier for deeming something edible.  Probably was to her, John realized.  ‘Hey, pass me some of that shit, it’s not gross,’ he imagined her saying at some five star restaurant. 

“Hand it over,” he said with a rueful grin.  He popped it in the nuker for a few minutes, willing to try most things Mike cooked. 

“They tell you about your upcoming schedule yet,” Carrie asked, thinking that might be the cause of his nightmares.  She’d peeked at the long range plans for him and knew he’d do it.  He’d do every damn thing they asked of him to promote the movie.  If they asked him to swim with sharks, he’d do it.  It’s just how he was and how much he loved the business.  He was dedicated and always trying to be and do the best he could.  Hunter’s quiet comment came back to her as she watched him pull out the tub and start to eat. 

“They think he’s single, Lil’ Sis,” Hunter stated over the phone a few weeks ago. 

“He is,” she snapped. 

“Bullshit.  He might not be married, but he is far from single,” Hunter countered, not bothering to tell her of Cena’s suddenly celibate road existence. 

“That’s crap and you know it,” she countered with.  Hunter’s call had turned from a friendly checking in on her to a nagging session somehow.  He always seemed to manage to do that to her and it pissed her off.  Even over the phone, he could piss her off.  Men. 

“Don’t bite my head off.  I’m not the one we’re talking about here,” Hunter said as he walked through the downstairs of his home, not wanting to disrupt the nighttime rituals. 

“Fine,” she snapped.  “Tell me what you’re really saying so I can get good and truly pissed then,” Carrie said. 

“I’m saying your boy is getting the brass ring and being allowed to run with it because in part, they think he doesn’t have any family.  They are running his ass all over the place because he doesn’t have a wife and kids back home,” Hunter said. 

“I don’t see what that has to do with the price if tea in China,” Carrie said, exasperated beyond belief. 

“Cena is single, or so they think.  So they don’t feel bad about having him be their mouth piece and dragging his ass all over the place.  It’s made worse by the fact that he’s willing to do whatever they ask.  Not that I think that is a bad thing, Lil’ Sis.  It’s just that if they find out that he isn’t quiet as footloose as they think, things might be different for him,” Hunter finally admitted. 

“That’s total bullshit, Hunter!  They don’t own his life,” Carrie said, trying to remain calm and failing. 

“Bullshit or not, that’s how this business works.  You know it as well as me.  Vince has been accused in too many divorce proceeding as a hard task master so this time they purposely sought out one of the young talents that was single.  You look around and tell me I’m full of shit.  But I bet once you realize it, you’ll know I’m right,” Hunter said quietly.  He could almost hear her heart break over the phone.  In the last few weeks he’d been working with Cena a little more and had realized the poor bastard was hopelessly in love with her.  Regardless of the fact that she already had a boyfriend, it didn’t seem to deter Cena one bit.  And from the amount of phone calls Cena had with his Lil’ Sis, he wasn’t too sure it was one sided.  That’s why he needed to let her know now, let her know the WWE brass was watching Cena and had some crazy plans for him since he was single. 

“I fucking hate this business,” she yelled into the phone.  “I hate it!”  Hunter heard her sigh, getting her composure back.  “Okay.  I get what you’re saying and I don’t think you really needed to tell me, but whatever.  Once these babies are born, regardless of what the tests show, I need to be discreet.  Right?  Not let those fuckers in Stamford have any reason to pull John’s push, right?  That is such bullshit, I can’t even find the right words to describe it to you,” Carrie said quietly.  No one was home, but she rarely raised her voice on the phone, except with Hunter.  Bastard had a way of doing that to her. 

“Yes, you do.  You have exactly the right words.  But you’re right.  I’m telling you to be careful, for both of your sakes,” Hunter said slowly.  He grimaced, realizing that since Cena was connected to his Lil’ Sis, he was now in part responsible for him too.  He wasn’t about to let anyone screw with his Lil’ Sis and if that meant extending his protection to Cena, then he’d do it.  Damn it. 

“How are you sleeping,” Hunter asked, changing the subject now that his warning had been understood…. 

*** 

Mike sat back down on the couch after fetching a beer for himself and a protein shake and water for his finally starting to look pregnant girlfriend.  He took her rounded tummy as proof that he needed to keep shoveling food down her, her protestations aside. 

Carrie crinkled her nose at the offered strawberry shake, taking it with as much grace as she could manage.  She set the water down on the coffee table, knowing she’d probably drink all of it and more before the end of the pay per view.  The damn events were taking a toll on her sanity recently.  What with David working injured, Big Red nursing another knee injury, Hunter’s litany of ailments, she wasn’t sure who hurt more.  The men working with the injuries or her having to watch them work through it, showing nothing to the paying audience. 

Kris was gnawing her fingers to the bone at David’s rapidly filling back up schedule.  He’d obviously told them he felt well enough to go back out on the road, in spite of doctors’ projected time line for him.  Maybe because of it, she wasn’t sure.  She knew her brother in law was a fiercely competitive man, not comfortable sitting on the sidelines, watching.  Probably never had been.  How Kris was coping, she didn’t know except through her phone calls.  Most of the time Kris tried to act like nothing was bothering her, likely not wanting to burden her in case she went crazy pregnant bitch on her or something.  While she appreciate the gesture, it was unnecessary.  She was pretty sure she was done being completely irrational.  The first couple of months had been wild and a reminder at what she could easily become if she let herself.  She’d made a promise to herself that pregnancy or not, she wasn’t going to let her emotion rule her anymore.  It was too exhausting and she didn’t like the person she became when she did. 

“I put half a banana in there for you too, Babe,” Mike said to the woman on his left.  She’d hesitated to drink the shake, possibly not thrilled with the taste.  He wasn’t sure, but he wanted her to know he’d changed it up a little, since she was drinking them three to five times a day, on top of everything else.  A little variety was good, especially when it came to food.  Mike understood that very well.  Carrie blinked as the words brought her back to the present. 

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him and lifting the inoffensive shake to her lips.  He wouldn’t relax until she drank all of it.  It was just his way of ensuring that she and the babies were taken care of.  He took pride in being able to offer her different foods to try and variety in the shakes, but it drove her nuts.  The whole continuous pampering was making her absolutely crazy.  He’d come back from another business trip and immediately started cooking shit for her, feeling that somehow in two days she was wasting away.  It’s not like she didn’t know how to fend for herself.  She’d been doing it for years before she met him and still did on the occasional night when he was away.  But he seemed bound and determined to feed her as many times a day as she could stand.  Regardless, she wasn’t gaining as much weight as either her doctor or Mike thought she should.  Damn, she felt like a pig with all the crap shoveled her way to ingest in the vain effort to fatten her up.  Her body had other ideas obviously.  She was gaining size and weight slowly.  She didn’t give a shit, as long as the boys were healthy, that’s all that mattered to her.   

Mike was getting worried at her continued loss of mass, but when she wasn’t allowed to do heavy weight training anymore, what did he expect?  She’d just have to remind him that she was just a skinny ugly duckling when not allowed to bust her ass in the gym.  It had become a part of her daily ritual years ago, but now she was slowly tapering off as she’d been advised and was hating the effect.  She had less energy, she certainly had less stamina and strength and knew it was only going to get more so as her pregnancy progressed.  She shook her head at herself.  The boys being healthy was the only thing that matter to her.  She could put her weight back on after they were born. 

Pulling the blanket over her from the back of the couch, she laced her fingers together and rested them on her rounded tummy.  Her feet were always cold and after drinking yet another protein shake, they’d be colder still. 

“You okay, Babe,” Mike asked, watching her tuck her feet under herself.  Her answer was a nod, eyes glued to the TV and Ric Flair’s opening match with Edge.  Mike sighed quietly, knowing that his girlfriend, like his best friend, lived another life that he could only try to understand.  He’d only ever lived it in very brief snippets, and they were way before David’s life became a whirlwind.  The places and people were familiar to him, but the deep connection both David and his girlfriend had to people he barely knew left him feeling like an outsider. 

Mike flicked a glance back to his girlfriend on the couch, noting with satisfaction that she’d finished her shake and had started in on her water.  During Trish’s match, she didn’t appear to move either, eyes glued to the tube.  He could understand why, both Trish and Mickie were easy on the eyes.   

As soon as the match was over, she jumped up saying quickly, “bathroom,” before she ran down the hall.  She made it back in time for Big Show and Triple H’s match, he noticed. 

“I miss anything,” she asked with a grin.   

Mike shook his head, grinning at her.  She curled up on the couch next to him to finish watching the pay per view.  Mike wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.  She sighed, relaxing in his arms and turning her attention to the TV and Hunter’s match.  Mike was fascinated, watching her watch the action.  She never said a word, but she tensed every time Show hit Hunter and every time Hunter took any type of offence from his massive opponent. 

“You okay,” he whispered in her hair. 

She nodded, adding, “Dumb bastard is gonna get himself hurt.”   

Mike frowned, turning her words over.  She couldn’t be calling Triple H a dumb bastard, could she?  Probably, and this was more of that connection he’s been brooding on earlier.  Even David wouldn’t call Triple H a dumb bastard, not out loud.  He might think it, but he’d never actually come out and say it.  Probably very few people in the world got away with calling the Cerebral Assassin a dumb bastard.  He knew The Game’s wife called him all kinds of names, in part to her due to her fiery temper.  It seemed his girlfriend was also on that short list, but he’d not seen any sort of real temper from her.  Ever.  She snapped at him certainly, but most of the time it was because he’d pushed and pushed her.  Then she’d snarl at him like an animal telling him to back off.  It was always over and done with in just a few minutes, so unlike his previous experience with a live in girlfriend.  That woman could stay red hot pissed for days, most of the time it went on so long he’d forget what the hell she was pissed about to begin with.   

Carrie crinkled her nose at the next match, not because of the participants, but because she wasn’t going to be able to sit through it, her body’s timing left a lot to be desired sometimes.  Sliding out from under Mike’s protective arm, she was off the couch and down the hall, again.  Peeing like a damned race horse.  What was it going to be like by March or April?  Not something she even wanted to think about.  After finishing up in the bathroom, her and that bathroom were getting acquainted all too well, she detoured into the kitchen to grab her favorite snack food of the moment, an orange.   

“You missed it, Babe.  Shelton won, with an assist from his momma,” Mike smiled, welcoming her back to his side.  He refrained from comment about her orange.  If she was eating, he was happy.  Didn’t matter if it was a twinkie, or some fruit, as long as she was eating.  God, he missed twinkies, he realized.  Maybe he should buy some tomorrow?  Maybe she’s help him eat the box so he wouldn’t pig out on them?   

Carrie was silent, concentrating on peeling her orange as the ladies bra and panties gauntlet match was announced.  She grinned remembering something John told her about his cousin. 

“What’s got you smiling?  You hate these types of matches,” Mike asked, knowing how degrading she said she found them.

“Just something funny John said about his cousin,” Carrie said quietly, not wanting to get into any argument over John or his words or anything else about him tonight.  Mike immediately stiffened as soon as he heard the other man’s name.  He unclenched his jaw, not remembering when he clamped down, trying at least to pretend to be adult like. 

“What did he say,” Mike asked, pleased that it didn’t come out as a growl.   

Carrie looked at him in surprise.  Maybe he was calming down about John?  He’d been all over her since her extended stay at John’s parents’ house.  Maybe he was getting over his petty shit?  She popped an orange slice in her mouth to give herself time to think.   

“You know that Marc is seeing Maria,” she asked, not sure if they’d talked about the backroom goings on with the boys.  Mike shook his head, it was news to him, but then he rarely knew who was sleeping with whom in the company.  It was a constantly changing kaleidoscope of couples and break ups.  Too much like high school for his liking.  She frowned at his answer. 

“I’m sure I told you about it?”  A head shake was the only response.  Mike was pleased by his continued outward calm at the reference to anything Cena related.  She sighed, glancing at the ongoing eye candy match, knowing Marc was likely standing in the gorilla position, poised to scoop Maria up as soon as she came back.  Carrie explained to him how long they’d been a couple. 

“When did this happen,” Mike asked.  Carrie shrugged, not really wanting to go there with him tonight, but he seemed determined to finish this thread of conversation. 

“The last trip I took to RAW.  The one where you went fucking ballistic,” she said, watching his face and popping another orange slice into her mouth to shut herself up.   

He blinked, remembering that hellish fight and the worry he’d felt at her leaving him again.  It was one of the few times he’d almost seen her temper, he remembered.  That little flash of it was enough to tell him he didn’t ever want to experience it firsthand.  Mike chose the wise course and just nodded, telling her he remembered.  He didn’t want to revisit that time, thank you very much.  He had enough on his plate right now without reliving his own past fuck ups.  David’s house in Florida was turning into a huge pain in his ass, just like he knew it would.  And that woman?  She was just as tenacious as their first meeting.  He was running out of ways to deflect her and her amorous attentions.  She’d taken to calling him for every little thing, every little decision.  Some times going so far as to invent reasons for a personal visit from him, or so it seemed to him.  Maybe he was just tired?  Maybe he was just an asshole?  It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know her client’s exact tastes, since she hadn’t been allowed to talk to her client.  She had to take what he said at face value, or sit and wait while he walked away from their meetings, making a phone call to David. 

Carrie glanced back at Mike, seeing his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.  That’s a rarity, she mused.  Him missing the eye candy match.  He didn’t even pay attention when Ashley was announced the winner.  She shifted in her seat, as the elimination chamber was lowered to the ring.  She knew exactly who was supposed to win this match, she’d read her hacked emails.  There’d been a ton of debate within creative if their emails were anything to go by, but in the end it had been decided John would keep the belt for this last pay per view then loose it, since the fans were dogging his every move.  He never complained, he was too focused to worry about things he had no control over, but still she worried for him.  One day she might actually ‘fess up to him, letting him know she’d hacked into the WWE email server years ago.  It had helped her tremendously when she was traveling with David, she’d been able to anticipate the changes many time before even he was aware of them. 

Mike pulled her back to him once she settled, knowing she’d be tense through the entire match.  Too many of the participants were friends of hers, to say nothing of Cena being in it too.  He better just get the hell over himself, he groused.  Cena was likely going to be a part of their lives for the foreseeable future.  It wasn’t that John was an asshole.  Far from it.  He was actually a nice guy.  It was that his girlfriend still loved him and she was probably pregnant with John’s boys, not his own.  He’d told her it didn’t matter to him and it really didn’t.  He already loved those babies, because they were a part of her.  And just maybe, he had some thing to do with it.  But trying to check his ego about the other man and his contact with his girlfriend?  That was the hard part, now that he’d heard she still loved him or was in love with him or whatever. 

“This is going to be ugly,” Carrie said quietly, watching Shawn and John work together in the chamber.  Mike said nothing, preferring to watch the action unfold in front of him.  His fingers strayed to her hair, twisting and twirling her curls between his thumb and forefinger, almost without thought.  She sat in silence, tensing as every new person was introduced into the chamber, knowing John was in for a marathon match. 

Many minutes later, as John was busted open, Carrie started to swear under her breath.   

“Damn it,” was the only word Mike was able to make out from her quiet tirade.  Just as Cena was announced the winner, with the crowd booing the hell out of him, Vince came out.  

 This can not be good.  Vince never comes out unless there’s been a last minute change in plans.  As soon as Edge was announced, Carrie jumped from her seat, swearing.  Mike rubbed his chin, having made contact on the back of her head as she jumped up. 

“What’s the problem?  It makes sense that Edge would cash it in,” Mike asked, still unsure why his girlfriend was now calling some un named female a worthless coma-inducing sexual assaulter of barnyard animals.  The only reason he knew she was referring to a female was that she started the tirade out with the one word he learned early on that she wouldn’t tolerate.  Most women didn’t tolerate, so he’d tried to wipe it from his vocabulary, but here she was using it at the beginning of every pronouncement.  Whoever the female was, she was definitely on his girlfriend’s shit list.  As the match drew to its inevitable conclusion and Edge’s hand was raised, Carrie picked up the remote and hurled it at the TV, watching with delight as both broke on impact.  She stormed out of the living area, leaving Mike at a loss.  Not sure what to say or do and a little surprised by her sudden outburst and the now cracked TV, he stayed put on the couch.  Out of harm’s way, or so he hoped.   

Carrie was so furious with that bitch she could barely see straight.  That damn bitch had got exactly what she wanted, regardless of the bigger picture.  Stupid spoiled bitch!  Breathing deeply to calm herself enough to send a quick text to John, she rubbed her belly with her other hand.  Once the message was sent, she grabbed her ear bud and dialed.  Shutting the office door behind her, in part because she was going to loose her temper all over again and she was going to sic the big red dog on the issue.  Enough was enough! 

‘Taker glanced in surprise at his cell.  He and Matt had just finished watching the pay per view together.  He was determined that regardless of the other shit going on around them he’d spend quality time with his son.  Matt had seemed to enjoy it almost as much as him, debating the finer points of the show with his dad. 

He flipped it open with a smile, “Hi, Min.” 

“Clifford, this fucking bullshit has got to stop!  Her momma was one thing, but now the princess is following the same sick path.  It’s going to stop!  If you won’t do it, I will,” she said quietly.  ’Taker had blinked in surprise at her words.  Whenever she called him Cliff or Clifford she was in trouble or royally pissed.  Right now she was pissed.  About what he didn’t know but he was about to find out. 

“What the hell are you yakking about,” he snapped, getting up and leaving his son behind.  Matt didn’t need to hear his dad argue any more than he already had in the last several months. 

“Did you watch tonight,” Carrie demanded. 

“Yeah, I did.  Edge is the new champ, so what,” ‘Taker said, not sure why Min was so damned pissed. 

“Jesus Christ!  Am I surrounded by complete imbeciles?  Did you get dropped on your head one too many times,” she vented before getting a slight grip on her temper.  

’Taker waited her out.  It was rare that Min lost her temper, but when she did it was best to shut the hell up and let it play out.   

“Tonight’s ending was changed at the last minute.” At the sound of an indrawn breath, she plowed on.  “No, don’t ask me how I know.  I just do.  But what’s worse is Little Miss Princess is following the same game plan as her sicko bitch of a mother.” 

“What are you talking about, Min.” ‘Taker asked, as an idea started to materialize.  She couldn’t mean that, could she? 

“Clifford, do not make me spell it out for you.  We both know exactly what Linda is capable of.  It seems she passed that kink on to her darling daughter.  Only this time her boy didn’t want to play.  Don’t you get it?  Tonight’s ending was punishment for John not jumping to her twisted tune?”   

‘Taker’s temper blazed to life at her words, both at the pain she uncovered and the meaning behind the words.  If Linda wasn’t up to her shit, she must mean that Stephanie was now “testing” the talent.  If that was the case, he needed to make some calls and put a stop to it. 

“How do you know, Min?  I mean tonight’s switch could’ve been planned,” he said, trying to think of any other reason than the one she presented. 

“I know because he talks in his sleep,” she shouted.

Silence met her words.  ‘Taker’s temper ratcheted up another notch.  Not at the fact that she heard Cena talk in his sleep.  He’d gotten over that little bit of jealousy long ago.  It was the fact that his one time protégé had to deal with Linda years ago and now had Stephanie sniffing at him.  Because she was so insecure, John’s refusal to bed her must have seemed like a complete slap in the face and she likely went to Daddy with tonight’s swerve ending.  The perfect way for her to try to make Cena tow the line.  See how powerful I am?  Don’t do what I say and I make you loose the belt.  Too bad she didn’t know her target well enough to realize her tactic wouldn’t work, to say nothing of Daddy’s temper once he was clued in. 

“I’ll make some calls,” was all he rumbled out, his Texan accent thick.

“Okay, if you won’t I will,” she warned.   

“I will,” he said abruptly, hanging up automatically.  He was unaware of his surroundings; all he could see was red.  He pressed one of his speed dial buttons, growling to himself as he waited for the answer… 

Carrie walked back out of the office to Mike talking on the phone to someone. 

“No, I have no idea.  Wait, she’s coming out now.  Wait a sec and you can ask her,” Mike said, handing her the phone.  Carrie scowled at being forced to talk to anyone right now.  She wanted to relish the idea of ripping the billion dollar princess a new ass. 

“This is Carrie,” she muttered, putting the phone to her ear. 

“I’m so sorry Carrie.  You were right,” Kris said quietly.  She’d walked away after the pay per view ended.  She needed to talk to her sister and she certainly didn’t want her husband or anyone else over hearing her. 

“I wish to hell I wasn’t,” Carrie said quickly, realizing that Kris was appalled at the turn of events.  Carrie’d confided in her sister her misgivings about what she’d heard, trying to rationalize it out to mean anything but what was now obviously true. 

“Yeah, I know.  I hate this business sometimes, I swear.  It’s so damn political,” Kris vented.  Switching gears, she asked, “Have you talked to John yet?” 

“No, I sent him a text, but he’s probably getting stitched up.  I bet he doesn’t check his phone until after he showers.  That’s usual for him,” Carrie admitted, forgetting that her boyfriend was still in the same room.   

Mike sat back on the couch and waited to ask her what the hell all the fuss was about.  It couldn’t be about Cena loosing the belt, could it?  He was going to have to loose it soon anyway.  Why the hell did his girlfriend decide to go fucking nuts and trash the TV?   

She raked her hair, letting her breath back out, sliding her hand automatically down to rubbing her tummy.  The boys didn’t like it when mommy got crazy.  They kicked up as much hell as she did, reminding her that she’s promised herself tonight that she’d keep better control of her emotions.  Well, shit.  That went out the damn window, didn’t it?  That damn woman.  If Red didn’t do something, she would and no one would like it, except her.  Kris’ voice in her ear brought her back to reality. 

“Carrie, you still there,” she asked. 

“Yeah, sorry.  Spaced again,” Carrie admitted. 

“I’ll let you go.  I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry I doubted you.  I just wish like hell you were wrong,” Kris said quietly. 

“Me too,” she said, looking over at the back of a dark brown head sitting very still on the couch.  Damn it, what had she said since she’d been on the phone with Kris?  “I made some calls, so we’ll see,” was all she said, knowing her sister would know what she was really saying and also that someone was in fact listening. 

“Okay, keep me posted.  Tell John I said he’s supposed to duck next time they throw steps at his head,” Kris teased. 

“Thanks, I will.  Bye,” Carrie said, hanging up the phone, staring at Mike’s head as she replayed what she and Kris had said.  She didn’t want to let another person in on John’s issue, in part because he hadn’t shared it with her, at least not on purpose.  Talking in your sleep doesn’t count as sharing.   

“Everything okay,” Mike asked, turning to look at his diminutive girlfriend.  She nodded, but her eyes were far away, obviously thinking of something else.  He didn’t know what had sparked her tonight, so he decided to play it cool and wait for her to tell him what caused her to have her tantrum.  Mike got up and walked into the kitchen, intent on making both of them something to eat.  He had no idea what, but she was due to eat again soon and he could always eat so why not? 

Her cell rang as Mike walked into the kitchen, causing him to pause briefly before he shook his head, knowing the call wasn’t for him anyway.  Carrie grabbed her cell, popping her ear bud back in as she answered.  

“This is Carrie,” she said quietly, not wanting to jump his shit. 

“Hey Baby, you must have watched tonight, if you’re dogging me about it already,” John joked.  He walked away from the noises, not ready to deal with all the shit in the locker room.  He’d just finished getting his cuts seen to and grabbed his cell, knowing he’d have at least one message from her. 

“I did.  I watched.  You had a hell of a match tonight, John,” Carrie said, pulling the office door to again to ensure her privacy.  Mike never intruded on her when she closed the door.  He always knocked and waited for her to acknowledge before he came in.  It was one of the things she loved about him.  He did give her space and privacy, in some things. 

“Thanks, Baby.  Too bad about the last match though.  But Edge deserved to win the belt tonight.  We’re going be beating the hell out of each other for months to come,” John laughed. 

“John, don’t.  I agree that Edge deserves a chance, but that wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go and we both know it,” she said quietly.  The silence that greeted her was in itself an answer.  He chuckled quietly shifting his gum and walking deeper into the bowels of the building.

"You never cease to amaze me, baby.  How do you know what was supposed to happen?  I didn't tell you," he asked. 

“I just do.  It one of my talents,” she said, trying to keep the mood light.  John rubbed his head, searching for a comeback to her declaration.   

Deciding to play it easy he said, “Sweetheart, you have many talents.  I know firsthand.”   

His chuckle told her he wasn’t going to make it easy on confronting him with her knowledge, but she was so damned pissed she felt the need to let him know she was behind him, one hundred percent.  She sighed, trying to think of a way to say what she needed to say without embarrassing him or pissing him off. 

Her emotions still running high, she blurted, “I’m surprised Steph managed to wait this long to make her point.  She isn’t known for her patience.” 

“What the hell are you talking about,” John asked, suddenly going cold at her words.  Shit!  What did she know and how the hell did she know?  If she knew about Steph, did she know about his earlier dealings with Linda? 

Realizing her finesse had left with her self control, she said, “The billion dollar spoiled princess and her appetites.  She is definitely her daddy’s daughter.” 

John frowned, unsure how the hell she knew about Steph’s harassment, but he was relieved she didn’t hint about Linda at all.  There was only two other people that knew about it and one of them was his one time mentor.  He knew ‘Taker would never say anything and Linda wouldn’t bother to share so maybe the mother of his children didn’t know his worst mistake of his life.  At least he could hope on that. 

“Yeah, well…Steph is one in a million alright.  But I still don’t quite understand,” John hedged, hoping she really wasn’t talking about what he thought she was. 

“Oh for God sakes,” she snapped.  “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.  You talk in your fucking sleep!”  The door to her office swung open with Mike carrying another bottle of water for her. His face was quickly schooled to hide his surprise at her words.  It was obvious who she was talking to, or at least he hoped.  She better not be referring to any other person that she’d heard talk in their sleep recently.  Carrie whirled on him and glared at the intrusion. 

“Sorry, Babe.  The door wasn’t shut.  I thought…” was all he said at her continued glare. 

“Out,” she said, glare firmly in place.  He swallowed, backing up quickly and leaving the bottle of water for her on her desk.  The door clicked shut as he left. 

“Who were you talking to,” John asked. 

“Don’t ask,” she said quietly, rubbing her temple.  What the hell had he over heard?  How could she explain away anything if he had heard her comments about Steph? 

Deciding that honesty in this issue might help him understand her better John said quietly, “How long have you known?”

“Shit, since summer. Since we slept together.  She must have jumped your ass as soon as you transferred to RAW,” Carrie admitted quietly, trying to rub her tummy and temple. 

“Why didn’t you say something,” John asked in amazement.  Then he realized, if he didn’t talk about shit, she would never bring it up.  She was a master at keeping secrets, hers and others’. 

“Why didn’t you?  There’s a word for what she’s doing.  Women the world over have been subjected to it all through time.  There are laws,” she said. 

John interrupted her, “I don’t need that shit, Baby.  I got this handled.” 

“Yeah, like tonight?  You think I don’t know what tonight’s little shit was all about?  You just gotta hope the rest of the locker room is in the dark about it or things could get damn ugly.”  John shuddered, thinking about that very thing.  It was more of the same.  His worst fucking nightmare come to life. 

“They don’t.  She’s not stupid, just a spoiled bitch,” John admitted.  Carrie blinked hearing those words from him.  It was an acknowledgement from him and the first time he’d ever said anything bad about anyone in the company.  About fucking time.  “I’m supposed to get a long program with Edge and this works in that set up too.  I got this handled.  Really.” 

“Whatever.  You don’t have to take her shit, John.  But if you think you can handle it, I’ll shut up about it for now,” she said.  She’d already made her move, but she wasn’t about to let John know that.  He had enough on his plate.  Big Red was as adamant about this kind of shit as she was.  Life was about to get a lot less comfortable for someone’s pampered little girl.  She switched topics as her temper faded, “You get any stitches tonight for that cut?” 

***

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