Title:
A Monkey Wrench
In The Works
Author: The Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution:
Empress' Private Library and
The Wayside Inn All others ask
first.
Category: Romance
Rating: R for language, implied sexual situations, and implied
violence.
Content: A teaspoon of drama, a tablespoon of angst, a cup of
humor, and plenty of foul language to taste.
Characters: Hunter Hearst Helmsley/ Nan; Shawn & Becky Michaels
implied
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: I suck at summaries…. Saturday before Badd Blood…things
don't go exactly as planned. But hey, they could always be worse.
Author's Notes: I've discovered that the voice of my Dad
lives in my head. And I'm not sure that this is a bad thing. Okay. So
I've got a Dad Muse. Moving right along…the members of "Nan's" family
that are in this work have ALL agreed to appear in this story on the
condition that their names be changed. Only Dixie and Maggie's names
haven't been changed. Dixie's convinced she's a star anyway and the
posting of this story on the Internet will just push her up to the true
"Icon" status that she so richly deserves. And Maggie just doesn't
care. Go figure. And for those of you who don't get the Maleficent
reference, think evil witch in Disney's Sleeping Beauty. The mug does
exist and I own it. This story DOES involve Triple H, and doesn't paint
him as the evil bastard most think he is. It will also play with other
RAW characters and hint at some more of Nan's past. And okay…so I went
for the cheese factor at the end. So what? If any of these things
offend you, please skip this one.
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer: Credit is given for all song lyrics quoted.
Characters from RAW belong to Vince McMahon and WWE and no copyright
infringement is intended. I'm just borrowing them and will return them
all -- eventually <evil grin>. All of the other characters are either on
loan from the people whom they represent, or are purely of my own
creation. Remember -- I'm just having fun. I realize that I'm using the
characters without permission. I'm NOT using them for profit. I swear;
no money is being made. Hey, if you don't believe me, check my bank
account…it's sad….really…
Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste…
…Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
Sympathy For The Devil - Rolling Stones
First, the sun was coming in the wrong side of the room. Second, she was alone in the big bed. But the most important thing that tickled her senses was that mouth-watering aroma teasing her nostrils. One hundred percent real Hawaiian Kona coffee.
Must…have…coffee…must…have…coffee…nectar of the gods…
Knuckling the sleep out of her eyes and gliding almost silently down the hallway towards the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight that greeted her just as she rounded the corner. Hunter stood staring, deep in thought, out of the kitchen window, drinking deeply from the mug gripped in his fist. Evidently he didn't hear her approach because he made no move to turn around. That or he had heard her and just didn't care. Either way, she eased back a pace, and used the opportunity unexpectedly given to her to study the mountain of a man leaning against the counter, who had snagged her friend so completely.
He braced his left fist, knuckles down, on the counter-top while the right hand curled around a large ceramic mug, dwarfing it in his grip. He wore only a pair of black boxer shorts that somehow made him appear more exposed, even though they showed off less of him than his wrestling gear did. Maybe it was because she'd never seen him without his pads, tape or boots if he wasn't fully dressed. Or maybe it was because he was barefoot, his left leg bent at the knee with his left foot propped on top of his right. Either way, he looked different and she couldn't quite put her finger on why he did.
Hunter polished off the last of his coffee and gently set the cup on the counter. With a toss of his head, he shook his hair out of his face, letting it swing freely over his massive shoulders. Leaning his head back, he breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.
That's when she saw it - what about him that morning that made him look different to her. More exposed than when he was in the ring. He wasn't growling, snarling, smirking or displaying any other surly characteristic that he was famous for. He just…was. The small crinkle lines around his eyes, and the deeper ones across his forehead were smoothed out. He looked serene, and somewhat pensive.
It made him look…vulnerable. A word she'd never associated with him before.
"Heavy thoughts for so early in the morning," Becky voiced softly from her place against the wall behind him.
A slight tensing of his shoulders was the only sign that told her he hadn't been aware of her presence. Slowly he turned to face her and she literally could see him slide back behind his usual arrogant asshole demeanor.
As far as defense mechanisms went, it was a doozy, she decided. But exactly why he felt the need to be defensive in his own home was beyond her.
"Mornin', Bec," he smirked at her, picking up Nan's shortened nickname for her. "How's the head?"
"Still attached."
Grinning, he picked up a bottle of Aleve® and shook it at her.
"No, thanks. I could go for a cup of that black gold you've got going on there."
Hunter slid aside and gestured towards the coffeemaker, before leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest, hooking one bare foot over the other. "Not that one," he warned as Becky reached for a black mug whose handle was shaped like a dragon's tail.
Becky picked up the mug anyway, looked at the green witch's face on it, then turned it over. "I look good in black. It matches my mood. Humph. Maleficent. Must be Nan's."
Hunter nodded, chuckling, as she set it back down and retrieved another from the cupboard overhead. "It is."
After pouring a cup for herself, she took a deep swallow of the life giving liquid. "How is she?"
"Asleep."
"King of the one-word answers, aren't ya?"
He cut a half-smirk at her. "Would you rather I write a dissertation for you on the ebb and flow of her REM patterns?"
"Asshole," Becky laughed.
"Undisputed, too." He reached for Nan's mug and started spooning in creamer and sugar before pouring in the coffee. Stirring it languidly, he flashed a wicked grin at her. "Strong, blonde and sweet. Just like she likes it."
"No way in hell am I touching that one," Becky grinned back. Her eyes took in the bottle of Aleve®, and a chilled bottle of water, which he set down beside the Maleficent mug. "Those for her?"
"Mmmm-hmmm. Gotta go wake her soon."
"I suggest you just throw 'em at her from the doorway."
Hunter's face split open into a rare smile and he laughed, a real legitimate laugh, rather than just his customary amused chuckle. "No need."
"Are you telling me she doesn't still come up swinging when you wake her up?"
He cut those enigmatic light brown eyes at her, full of deviltry, his tone smug. "Not when I wake her."
Becky merely smiled and lifted her mug in salute. He acknowledged it with a brief nod.
They shared a moment or two of surprisingly easy silence while Becky finished her coffee. She rinsed out her cup and put it in the dishwasher, and then turned him. Never a woman for dancing lightly around a topic, Becky dove right in. "She's scared, you know."
Hunter nodded, the corners of his mouth turning down, his shoulders tensing even more. "I know."
She crossed her arms and cocked one eyebrow at him. "But do you know why?"
He lowered his head, rubbed at his bearded jaw, and breathed in loudly for a moment before answering. "I'm not an idiot, Becky. I know how hard this particular match is for her. A Hell in the Cell match is always rough. And I know she and Michaels are friends. So yeah, it's hard for her."
Becky flashed him a disgusted glare. "Okay, fine. So you're not an idiot. But you are clueless if you think that's the only reason she's scared. She doesn't give a shit what kind of match you're in. Or who you're fighting. Is she worried about Shawn? Sure. A little. But believe me when I say, she couldn't care less if either of you win or lose as long as you are okay when it's done."
"Now me, I'll be screaming my ass off hoping Shawn hands you yours." Pivoting on her heel, she turned to go back down the hallway towards her bedroom. "But she won't be in that sky box cheering you on either."
"Then what will she be doing, oh wise one?" He growled at her retreating form.
"Praying," her answer floated back down the hallway to him.
~<>~
never opened myself this way
life is ours, we live it our way
all these words I don't just say
and nothing else matters
Nothing Else Matters - Metallica
With the bottle of Aleve® tucked into the waistband of his boxers, and his hands full with the Maleficent mug along with the bottle of water, Hunter nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, and moved silently inside, leaving the door ajar. As quietly as possible, he set the bottle and mug on the nightstand, and then pulled the medicine bottle from his shorts.
The rattling of the pills must have made more noise than he anticipated because the mound of blankets on the bed shifted. Presently a dark brown eye peeped out at him from a gap in the covers. Smiling, Hunter leaned down to receive his very wet, customary morning kiss.
"Good morning to you, too. Come on now. Breakfast is waiting," he whispered quietly.
The brown eye narrowed, then disappeared back under the blankets, only to reappear moments later as she wriggled free from the bedcovers. She stepped down cautiously onto the stool at the foot of the high bed. Without a noise, she plodded wearily towards the open bedroom door, stopping only to look back at him expectantly before leaving the room.
Hunter just motioned her towards the door with a grin and a lackadaisical waive. With a disgusted look in her eyes, sticking her nose in the air, and her tail wagging merrily behind her, Dixie trotted out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and her promised waiting food dish.
Chuckling lowly at the amount of attitude she could show, he closed the bedroom door, murmuring, "Crazy little dog."
Turning his attention to the larger mound that still lay unmoving in the king-sized bed, he couldn't help but smile. As was her habit, she'd evidently turned to him in her sleep and, not finding him, she'd wrapped both arms and one leg around his pillow. Then she'd maneuvered herself so that she was bundled up, cocoon-style, diagonally across the overstuffed mattress. All that could be seen of her were the red-tipped toes on the one foot that wasn't wrapped around his pillow and that cloud of coppery red hair, standing out like a beacon against the sea of black sheets and blankets.
Regardless of what he'd said to Becky in the kitchen, Hunter still gingerly eased down onto the mattress. He hadn't lied. She didn't come up swinging when he woke her anymore…well, not usually. Unless she was deep into a nightmare, and he couldn't remember the last one she'd had. Be that as it may, even though she was little in comparison to him, she still packed a hellacious right hook. And there was no way he was going into the match tomorrow with a shiner.
With measured, cautious movements, he peeled away the top layer of blankets and sheets until he could actually see her. She lay on her left side, facing him, her nose buried almost completely under the pillow she clutched. Reaching over her, he retrieved the still steaming mug of coffee and passed it back and forth under her nose before putting it back on the nightstand.
Almost immediately her eyes opened, her hand snaking out from under the blankets for the elusive mug, her words guttural and garbled. "Hun…coffee…owww."
Without a word, Hunter pressed the bottle of water into her seeking fingers, expertly deflecting her reach for the bitter brew. He watched, amused as she rolled the cool bottle across her forehead, squinching her eyes closed against the bright sunbeam streaming through the skylight over the bed. She struggled into a half-reclining position against the headboard, pinning the black sheet under her arms and over her breasts. Hunter plucked the bottle from her fingers, cracked the cap and put it back in her hand. He retrieved the Aleve®, physically opened her hand and tapped two tablets into her palm.
Eyes still tightly closed, she swallowed the medicine down, polishing off the small bottle of water in the process. When she was finished with it, he took it from her, chunked it in the trash-can by the dresser and passed her the black mug with the bright green witch's face on it. After two deep swallows, she leaned her head back against the headboard, sighed deeply and opened her eyes, looking straight at him.
"Thank you."
Hunter nodded. "How do you feel?"
"Like a monkey shit in my skull while I was sleeping," she mumbled, pushing her hair away from her face
He laughed. "I'm not surprised. You had a lot to drink last night."
She shook her head, and lifted the coffee mug again. "That was just buzzing. I wasn't even near drunk."
"If that was just buzzing hard, I bet you're something else when you're blitzed. So when was the last time you really tied one on," he grinned at her.
Without hesitation, or forethought, she answered, "February 4, 2002."
Hunter frowned. That date rang a bell for him, but he couldn't quite say what its significance was. And Nan didn't toss around dates like that unless they were important. "Why then?"
She lowered her eyes, shrugged and immediately brought the cup up again and drank three more large gulps in rapid succession. When she finally lowered it, she ignored his question, a fact not lost on him. "Bec up yet?"
He nodded, eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Ran into her in the kitchen. Nan…"
"She doing okay?" Nan interrupted swiftly.
"Yeah," he hesitated, wondering if she'd try and deflect him again from asking about that particular date. She did.
"So, where is she?"
"In the shower. Heard the water start up right before I came in here."
Nan fixed him with a heated smile. "Shower, huh? Sounds like a great idea." She lifted her arm to set the mug back on the nightstand, and allowed the sheet to slip down just enough to expose one rosy-crested breast.
He knew what she was doing, but at that moment didn't care. "Shower later," he growled.
In a single move that left her breathless, Hunter stripped the sheet away, then blanketed her with his own body, pressing her deep into the mattress. He lowered his head to latch on to that one spot at the curve of her shoulder into the column of her neck that always sent her into the stratosphere. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she gave a shuddering sigh as her legs came up around his hips, pushing down his shorts with her toes.
The matter of that date wasn't forgotten, just postponed, more important issues taking precedence.
~<>~
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound
A Horse With No Name - America
"Goddamnit!! Stop hanging the fucking phone up on me!!! Shit!" Nan stomped further down the highway, furiously punching buttons on her cell phone. "I swear to God when I get my hands on you I'm gonna…Ramón! You hang this fucking phone up on me one more fucking time and so help me God you won't ever have to worry about my sister killing you, because I'm fucking gonna do it! Yes! It's been me every fucking time!"
"Got quite a vocabulary on her, doesn't she?" Becky asked from the back seat.
Hunter glanced over his shoulder at her. She was leaned up between the front and back seat, one elbow propped on the back of each seats, blowing a big bubble with her gum. He resisted the urge to pop it. Seated thus, her green eyes wide, watching Nan's ravings, she reminded him more of a little kid getting ready to ask, "are we there yet," than he'd ever admit to her. He shifted his grip on the little brown Dachshund standing on his leg, leaning out of the car window, and chuckled.
"Yeah. She does at that," he replied, smiling broadly, his eyes dancing, obviously enjoying the spectacle going on in front of him. They sat in silence for a moment, both watching the redhead wave her arms, clearly upset, her words floating back to them on the cool breeze blowing through the open windows of the stranded car.
"…down forty-nine just past Jimmy Donovan's house…Jimmy Donovan. Your insurance agent. Yes, you do! Ramón! Just put my sister on the phone!"
"He loves aggravating her." Hunter tossed the comment casually over his shoulder to Becky.
"Why?"
"Because she gets so damn mad. Rises to the bait every time."
"I can see that," she commented. "But will he still help?"
"Oh yeah. Not a problem." He smiled broader, his eyes trained on the woman kicking a dirt clod, sending a shower of red dirt across the road.
"Angela! Will you please tell your obnoxious husband to get in his truck and come down her on forty-nine just past Jimmy Donovan's house! I ran over a fucking monkey wrench and shredded my tire! Yes, Hunter does so know how to change a tire! Because I don't have a fucking jack in this hearse I'm driving, that's why! I don't give a damn! We're stuck! Angela!!!
Hearing the increasingly distressed tone in Nan's voice continuing to rise, he decided he'd better put a stop to her sister's baiting before things got ugly. Knowing her twisted sense of humor, Angela would just continue badgering her younger sister until Nan really lost her temper and said something both of the sisters would regret. He'd seen it too many times before. He slid Dixie off his leg and into the floorboard as Nan's curses and epithets just grew louder, and more vicious. Opening the door, he was halfway out of the car when Nan suddenly whirled around, and without even breaking stride, or taking a breath in her tirade, turned her wrath on him.
"Oh hell no! You get your ass back in that car, right fuckin' now!"
For a split second, Hunter instinctively moved to sit back down, before he realized she hadn't been talking to him at all. Rather she'd yelled at Dixie, who had slipped out when he wasn't looking and had headed right to the highway. The little dog froze dead in her tracks. He didn't blame her a bit either. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, hoping his move back towards the car hadn't been seen. Becky's sidesplitting laughter quickly cured him of that false hope.
"Have mercy!" Becky laughed loudly from the back seat. "What I wouldn't give to have that on video!"
Hunter scooped up Dixie, put her back in the car, and shut the door, flashing Becky an evil glare. "Shut up."
When her only response was to stick out her tongue at him, and continue to laugh, he just turned and walked towards Nan who was currently running down the list of every insult she could possibly imagine. His eyebrows went up on the last one. And getting pretty damn creative with them too. But no doubt, he thought to himself, Angela was just laughing at her, egging her on. Her sister was just weird that way.
Hunter held out his hand. "Give it."
With a mixed look of fury and relief, Nan slapped the cell phone into his palm. She moved to walk back to the car, but he reached out and snagged her around the waist, pulling her snug up against his side. Ignoring her glare, he lifted the phone to his ear, and sure enough, he could hear Angela laughing.
"Angela. When did Ramón leave? Great. Uh-huh. Right. Thanks." He snapped the cell phone shut and turned his head to smile down at the woman still at his side, currently glaring holes through him. "He's on his way. He left when he put your sister on the phone, and should be here…"
He stopped abruptly as a black Bronco roared up to them. A handsome Mexican man about Nan's height stepped down from the truck, the wicked light of mischief dancing in his dark eyes.
"…right about now," Hunter finished with a smirk.
"¡Cuñada! ¡Coma esta! What did you do to this car?? ¿Que pasa, Hunter?" Ramón shook his head, grinning, and walked around to the back of his truck. "Ai, Dios mio. Women drivers."
Hunter laughed, knowing that Ramón Vega, Nan's brother-in-law, was merely still trying to get a rise out of her. "Ignore him. It'll drive him nuts," he advised. "I'd better go give him a hand."
Before he could pull away, she squeezed his waist, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry."
Confused, he asked, "For what?"
"Losing it like that."
He made a rude noise completely dismissing it. "Please. If I apologized unnecessarily every time I lost my temper, we'd never have time to talk about anything else. Don't sweat it, baby."
With a quick kiss to her forehead, he walked away to greet her brother-in-law. Becky got out of the car, and came around to where Nan stood. Shoulder to shoulder, the two women watched Hunter and Ramón argue for a moment about how best to proceed changing the tire.
"You okay, Nan?"
She shrugged. "I think tomorrow is getting to me. I don't usually blow up over stuff like this."
Becky grinned. "Bullshit."
Her friend chuckled. "Okay…how about I don't usually blow up this badly over stuff like this?"
Becky nodded. "Better."
Hunter walked back over to them, stripped out of his white dress shirt and passed it to Nan with a grin. "Can't go see your parents with grease all over me."
He turned and walked back over to where Ramón was already jacking up the car. Grabbing the lug wrench, he set about loosening the lug nuts on the wheel. The muscles in his biceps bunched as he worked, and the charcoal dress slacks tightened over his thighs and backside as he stood and squatted while wrestling with the tire. His blond ponytail swung easily between his shoulder blades, as the afternoon sun danced off his skin. As if feeling her eyes on him, Hunter looked up to where Nan and Becky stood, and winked.
"Better now?" Becky asked, with a knowing smile.
Nan grinned widely at her. "Oh, yeah."
~<>~
Yeah, this is my town,
Hey, Where I was born, where I was raised,
Where I keep all my yesterdays
My Town - Montgomery Gentry
Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up in Nan's parents' driveway. As they got out the car, Dixie strained against her leash, nearly strangling herself, yipping excitedly as Nan's mother came out of the front door. Nan reached down and unhooked the leash, and Dixie bolted for the front porch where her mother stood.
"Hey, Hunter! Hey, Becky! There's my little girl! Hey, sugar!!"
Becky looked over at Nan and Hunter as they walked down the drive, Hunter's hand on the small of Nan's back. "Boy, what a warm welcome."
Nan snorted. "She's talking to the dog."
Becky started laughing again, as she got up to the steps where Dixie was currently on her back, peeing all over the porch, while Nan's mother fussed over her. "Hey, Mom!"
As she straightened up, once again, Hunter was struck by how much Nan's mother reminded him of Bea Arthur, the tall lady from The Golden Girls television show. It wasn't that they favored so much, because they really didn't. Even though the both did have white hair and were considered tall for women. It was more of their carriage, he supposed. Regal. Elegant. Lady-like. Genuine. He grinned, watching as she embraced first Becky, and then her daughter. At five-foot-ten, she stood a good head taller than Nan, while he towered over her. It never failed to amuse him how much shorter Nan was than the rest of her family. When her mother turned to him, her smile brightened. She threw her arms out and wrapped him up in a big, warm embrace.
"Hey, Mom," he whispered.
"Don't you just look handsome." She smoothed down the lines of his shirt over his shoulders, like he'd seen her do many times for her own sons. Then she tugged on his ponytail. "But you'd look so much better without all that long hair."
"Leave his hair alone, Momma." Nan spoke up as the four of them moved inside. "I like it long. And longer would be better."
"There's my girlfriend!" A deep voice bellowed from the den as they walked in.
"Hey, Dad," Becky spoke, a wealth of emotion in her voice as she moved to hug the older man.
They chatted for a moment, then he turned to Nan. "Come 'mere, baby girl."
Hunter stood almost at attention as Nan and her father exchanged greetings and hugs. At seventy-one years old, he was a veteran, a polio survivor, a quadruple by-pass survivor, a diabetic, a partial amputee, and his hearing had seen better days. All of that not-withstanding, her father still had the ability of fixing him with one glance and making him feel like he was thirteen years old again, and had just gotten caught with a dirty magazine. Nan had once told him he'd been a drill sergeant during the Korean War. He didn't doubt it.
Her father stuck out his hand, albeit somewhat slowly. "Boy."
"Mr. Eliot. Good to see you again, Sir," he replied respectfully returning the surprisingly strong handshake.
"Mmm-hmm," he murmured before turning back to Becky. "Come on, girl. You're with me."
"We going somewhere?" she looked around questioningly.
"Gotta go to the store. Ellie forgot the broccoli. Ellie!" He yelled back towards the kitchen where his wife had disappeared.
"What?!"
"You need anything 'sides the broccoli?" He yelled again.
"Not unless you want ice-cream instead of whipped cream!"
"Okay! I'm takin' Becky with me and I'm gonna tell everybody I see that she's my girlfriend!" His bellow reverberated through the house.
"Go ahead! I don't care what you tell folks! Not like anyone who knows you is gonna believe you anyhow!"
With a devilish gleam in his dark brown eyes, he turned to Becky. "Let's go."
As they left, Hunter stuck a finger in his ear and shook it, squinting. "Nothing wrong with his lungs. Or Mom's."
Nan laughed as she wrapped her fingers through his and pulled him further into the house. "Now you see where I get it."
~<>~
If it seems like I've been lost then let's remember
If you think I'm feeling older and missing my younger days
Oh, then you should have known me much better
Cause my past is something that never got in my way
Still I would not be here now if I never had the hunger
And I'm not ashamed to say the wild boys were my friends
Keeping The Faith - Billy Joel
After dinner was over, they all sat in the living room, all of them pointedly trying not to talk about tomorrow's match. Nan's parents didn't care very much for what Hunter did for a living, but that wasn't really the reason they weren't discussing it. And Hunter was just fine with leaving the topic alone. He and Nan curled up together on the loveseat, closest to the television that was currently replaying an episode of Gunsmoke, one of the really older black and white ones that still had Burt Reynolds in it as the blacksmith. Becky sat easily in "Nana's Chair," a high backed antique that had been Nan's grandmother's favorite place to sit. She was chatting with Ellie, who was absently petting Dixie, who lay in absolute bliss in Ellie's lap. Mr. Eliot relaxed in his recliner with Maggie, his black, half-basset, half-beagle.
Hunter shifted, jostling Nan a bit, who looked up at him. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I just ate too much," he grinned at her, then turned to Ellie. "But Mom's cooking always has that effect on me."
Ellie beamed, smiling brightly at him.
"Gotta admit, Momma. That was the most culturally eclectic meal we've ever had." Nan smiled. "And one you can repeat anytime you want, too!"
"I second that," Becky chimed in.
"When's dessert?" Mr. Eliot asked.
They all laughed as Ellie moved to get up. "No," Nan stopped her. "I'll get it. Who's in?"
"Me!" Becky called.
"Momma?"
"No, thank you, sweetie."
"Hunter?"
"What kind is it, baby?"
"Strawberry shortcake." She smiled at his immediate groan. "It's sugar-free."
Hunter groaned again, but shook his head. "Sugar free doesn't help the 'no-more-room' problem. I'll pass, but thank you anyway, Mom."
"I'm not asking you, Daddy. I know you want some."
"Some, nothin'! I want mine and his too!"
"Red!" Ellie chastised him.
"Baby girl," her father began.
Nan held up a hand. "I hear you, Daddy." In just a few minutes, she walked back into the den carrying two bowls of strawberry shortcake. She gave one to Becky and one, obviously a larger than normal portion, to her dad.
Once she sat back down beside Hunter, she looked up, and caught the lifted eyebrow and condemning look on her mother's face. "What?"
"What," her mother repeated. "You know what."
"Leave the girl alone, Ellie. She's just taking care of her daddy like she's supposed to. Ain't that right, baby girl?" Red grinned, waving a fork full of the dessert.
"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it could get me killed." Nan answered with a matching grin.
Hunter threw his arm around her shoulders and toyed with her hair. "Good answer, baby."
"That reminds me," her father said, as he reached down beside his chair. He pulled out a worn photo album and lifted it up so Nan could see it. "Evidently you left this at the old house just before we moved a few months back. Angela brought it over when she found out you'd be here today. Think fast, boy. Incoming!" He tossed it across the room.
Hunter lunged up to grab the album as it hurtled across the room at him, and he almost caught it perfectly. But the cover was smooth from age and it slipped right out of his fingers. A few loose pictures fell out, but he leaned over and scooped them up along with the album and passed them all to Nan.
"Hey, awesome! This is my old wrestling scrapbook. Bec, you're gonna want to take a look at some of these pictures."
Becky jumped up and walked around to perch on the edge of the loveseat where Hunter and Nan sat. "Is that Shawn?"
Hunter glanced over and saw Becky pointing at a picture of a very young Shawn Michaels, back before Hunter had met him. Nan was with him, wearing a black dress, and crying. And Shawn was in a suit, looking very upset as well.
"Yeah," she whispered. "My grandfather's funeral in '86."
"How old were you?" Becky asked.
"Sixteen," she flipped the page.
Hunter almost asked who'd taken a picture at a funeral, but he knew how crazed some fans were and it really didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was that she'd somehow gotten it and more importantly, kept it. He'd known that Nan and Shawn had gone back farther than he and Shawn had. Hell, he was younger than Nan was so he'd still have been in high school when that had happened. Just like she had been. But he had no idea their friendship had gone back almost twenty years. Or longer, because they'd obviously known each other when the picture was taken. He looked away, down at the carpet, digesting that information.
A flash of white caught his eye, and he saw he'd missed a picture that had fallen out of the album. It was right by his foot, so he leaned over and picked it up, turning it over. The picture itself was bad enough, searing the unexpected image in his brain. But then his eyes were immediately drawn to the date-stamp printed on the picture…February 4, 2002.
Hunter's eyes slid sideways. Becky and Nan were absorbed looking through the photo album. Ellie was still playing with Dixie who was kicking her back legs as Ellie scratched a sensitive spot. As unobtrusively as possible, he slid the photo into his pocket, and sat back against the couch. Only then did he remember Nan's father. He lifted his eyes to see Mr. Eliot looking straight at him.
"Come on, boy," Red began. "Let's take the dogs for a walk."
Feeling like he was going to his own execution, he nodded and stood up. He grabbed Dixie's leash as Red did the same to Maggie. Allowing Red to go first, Hunter followed silently, barely glancing back over his shoulder at Nan who just smiled encouragingly at him.
As the door shut behind them, Ellie looked over at her daughter and grinned. "I'd give anything to have a picture of those two big, bad dudes walking those two itty bitty dogs!"
~<>~
I know what nobody knows
Where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win
Dream On - Aerosmith
They'd walked not very far, around the front and into the back yard before Red stopped and hung Maggie's leash on a post he'd set into the side of the deck. He gestured for Hunter to do the same with Dixie's, giving the two dogs as much lead as they could and still adhere to the leash law. Hunter just maintained his silence, waiting to follow Red's lead. They stood side by side, neither of them looking at the other, and watched the dogs.
After a moment of continued silence, Red finally spoke up. "Big match tomorrow."
"Yes, Sir."
"Gonna be a bad one, from what I hear."
"Yes, Sir. Probably." Hunter nodded, shoving his hands down in his pockets, his right hand instantly coming in contact with the picture.
Red sighed, but continued to watch the dogs play rather than look at the young man at his side. "Baby girl tells me you think I don't like you."
Hunter didn't really know how to answer that, so he just kept quiet.
"Not entirely true." Red turned to face him, as Hunter did the same.
"I don't follow you, Sir."
Red grinned, and ran a big finger over his mustache. "Sure you do. But I'll spell it out for you anyway. I don't care too much for the fact that you make your livin' by beating people up. I don't like it when you take her with you to those places. I don't like the way the two of you live. Want me to go on?"
Hunter looked down at the ground. He really didn't need this tonight. He shook his head. "No, Sir. I understand what you're saying."
"Now see, right there's where you're wrong." Red contradicted him. "What I do like, is how happy she is since she's been with you. I put up with a lot of insignificant things that I don't like because it makes her happy. Or her mother happy. Or her brothers and sister happy. Hell, boy! It's part of my job description as husband and father. Wanted: someone to put up with loads of insignificant crap that you don't like just because it makes the people you love happy."
Hunter chuckled, and smiled at him. "I remember hearing my own father say something like that once."
"Humph," Red snorted. "Wise man." He breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of honeysuckle in the air. "And about that picture you squirreled away in your pocket, there."
Hunter stiffened, his hands automatically coming out of his pockets to be clenched into fists at his thighs. It wasn't lost on Red. He may be old, but he wasn't stupid. Or blind.
"Don't go puffin' up on me, boy. I ain't impressed." His eyes twinkled as Hunter relaxed again and gave him a contrite grin. "All I was gonna say was, think carefully about whatever you decided to do about it. I'd hate to see you do something stupid and mess up a good thing."
"Yes, Sir. I'll be sure and think on it."
"Yeah, you do that. And while you're at it, do something else for me, boy."
"What's that, Sir?"
Red looked at him, his dark eyes, so like his daughter's, gleaming in the fading light, and flashed a mischievous smile. "Win."
"No problem." Hunter grinned, and held out his hand, which Mr. Eliot shook, no hesitation this time.
He clapped Hunter hard on the back. "Good. Good. Never did like the cocky sombitch anyway."
~<>~
The front door shut loudly causing Becky and Ellie to jump, as Red, Maggie, Hunter and Dixie came back in the house. But Nan paid no attention, engrossed in what she was doing.
Sweating, and cursing, Nan flipped both middle fingers up in the air at the VCR and cable box she'd been working on. "Ha! Kiss my ass! I gotcha, you sonofabitch!"
Silence reigned just long enough for the door shutting to register to Nan, indicating Hunter and her dad had returned. Immediately her face turned red, and she lowered her hands.
"Well," Ellie said with a smothered giggle. "She gets her looks from my Momma and her brains from me, so I'd always wondered where her father was in her. Now we know."
Laughter rained all around them as Hunter leaned over and helped the blushing woman to her feet.
"Yeah, but does my damn VCR work now?"
"Yes, Daddy."
Hunter was still chuckling over Nan's lapse into an impromptu 'Stone Cold' salute. "You ready to go, baby?"
"Yeah."
"No, you're not leaving already, are you?" Her mother asked.
"Got to, Momma. We've got an atrociously early flight in the morning. Now, you've got her medicine and her bag of toys…"
Hunter turned a deaf ear to Nan giving her mother instructions on Dixie's special care, yet again. He turned to Red, and shook his hand again. "Thank you for having us, Sir."
Red gave him a knowing look. "Anytime, boy." He turned to Becky and gave her a big hug. "Come back and see us soon, you hear?"
"I will. I promise."
"Make sure you call us when you get to Ohio so Ellie won't worry," Red called as they moved out of the door.
"We will," Nan called over her shoulder.
A few minutes later they were backing out of the drive. Becky lay down across the back seat as soon as she got in the car. Nan couldn't help but watch her parents in the doorway, with Dixie in her mother's arms, watching them drive away.
Fiddling with the radio, Hunter eventually gave up and let it sit on a local rock station. Almost immediately an old Eagles tune came out of the speakers. He reached to change it again, but Nan's hand stopped him.
"No,
don't. I like this song."
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
A
low sound came from the back and they realized Becky was singing along,
very quietly, with the song. But for some reason, all Hunter could hear
was Red's voice.
Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
She'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get
Unnerved, and not sure why, Nan unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over
closer to Hunter, and re-buckled the middle seatbelt over her lap. He
put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. Her arm
stole around his waist.
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
"You okay, baby?"
"Yeah," she whispered.
"Worried?"
She
just nodded against his shirt.
Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day
You're losin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
And
unexpectedly, Hunter remembered something Ramón had said to him when
Ramón had been giving him shit about tomorrow's match. He had informed
Hunter that he was pulling for Michaels and then looked Hunter right in
the eyes and had said that the only person who would be crying at the
end of the match tomorrow night would be Nan.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late
Ramón had just been ribbing him, he was sure. But now he had to
wonder how accurate a prediction would it turn out to be? He didn't
know the answer.
<End>
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