Title: Man of Steel
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution: Empress' Private Library and The Wayside Inn  All others ask first.
Rating:  R - for language, violence, and implied sexual situations.
Category: Number 13 in the Behind the Scenes series, following #12 Where It All Begins...Again.
Characters: Hunter/Nan; Y2J/Rosie; Evolution; Shawn Michaels; Chyna; The Rock; Hurricane; Kane; Kurt Angle; Rhyno; Tina, and two mystery guests!
Spoilers:  None.  Takes place during RAW of July 26, 2004, and picks up immediately after the end of BTS#12.
Warnings:  Language, and violence.  That's about it.  No sex in this one either, sorry.
Summary:  I hate writing 'em…but you want 'em…so here ya go.  Hunter doesn't have as good of a night as he thought he would.  Help comes from an unexpected source.
Author's Notes: Please note the following: 
#1  I'm aware that the "catching" of Hurricane, by Rosey, and subsequent "tossing" of Hurricane did not happen in the 07/26/04 episode of RAW, but rather in the 05/17/04 episode of RAW.  But I liked it.  So it's in.  Deal with it or don't.
#2  I'm taking creative license with Hurricane's age.  I know he's really thirty, but I need him to be younger.  For story purposes only.
#3  Also, the standing ovation that the audience gave to Triple H as he was leaving the ring with Ric and Batista really did happen after the cameras stopped rolling, per a report I received from a buddy who went to the show.  I just thought it was a nice touch, so I added it.  And I got two words for ya, if you don't like it.
Author's Notes - The Sequel: Okay, so I preach a little at the beginning of this one.  But after three straight weeks of reading nothing but the unbelievable crap written by supposed fans of the WWE, I couldn't keep silent anymore.  And while I understand that most people don't feel the same way as I do about Triple H, I just don't get why they feel the need to malign the man's personal character and integrity.  It makes my blood boil, and I see red.  I've got just one thing to say to all of these self-important, so-called wrestling experts (or Internet Jackasses as a friend of mine likes to say).  If you hate Triple H that much or the direction that the WWE is going in right now so badly, please do just this one, simple thing.  TURN OFF YOUR DAMN TELEVISION AND QUIT RUINING MY LIFE!  Okay.  Getting off the soapbox now.
Feedback: Always.
Thanks:  Special thanks go out to Spotlight Owner Stef, who was the first to tell me who eliminated Hurricane on 7/26/04, as well as other juicy tidbits I needed for this chapter.  Stef, I hereby dub thee WWE Research Babe Extrordinaire!  Add it to your signature line.
Disclaimer: Not mine - Vince's.  Some are mine and I'm keeping those.  No money made.  But if you just wanna give me something…Hunter would be a good start!  But ya know…if I actually had him, it poses the question, would I still write about him??

Yeah when you're a Celebrity
It’s adios reality
No matter what you do
People think you’re cool
Just cause you're on TV
Being a Celebrity...
       Celebrity - Brad Paisley

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:31 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Arena Entrance - Pittsburgh, PA 

He was used to being stared at.  It went hand in hand with being a celebrity. 

Life in the public eye was never dull.  Granted, most of the time it was cool, and he really enjoyed it.  But it wasn't like normal fame, either, if there were such a thing.  Most celebrities' fans were seriously star-struck when it came to meeting their idols.  All agog and twittering, the women especially, and none of them ever dreaming to be anything but polite.  Okay, so a lot of the time they came out sounding like complete idiots.  But admiration has a tendency to take over, reducing even the most articulate of fan to a blithering moron.  It was normal.  And sometimes even cute.  Very funny stuff.  And the more ridiculous, the more memorable.  Unfortunately for the fan, those ridiculous moments stood out in the memories of the celebrity.  They were the ones that got shared on talk show interviews.  But for the most part, fans were nice people who just got a little over-excited.  And they always seemed to really enjoy meeting their favorite celebrity when they weren't "in character."  Never would a fan of say, Wesley Snipes, expect him to act like his character "Blade" when he was going through an airport terminal, or walking down the street in broad daylight.  They wouldn't expect him to prance around like "Noxzema Jackson" in four inch heels either.  And the ones that did expect it were the definite exceptions to the rule.  And more than a little scary.

But wrestling fans were different.  Those fans demanded that their favorite wrestlers always be just as they were in the ring, jacked up, pissed off, and ready to kill.  They weren't ever allowed to be real people with lives, families, or even feelings.  Very few did remember that they had lives of their own, and those were the exception.  Most WWE fans, at least the ones he encountered, were so into what they watched every week that seeing him doing something normal, like say, eating dinner with his girlfriend, and laughing at something they were talking about, was almost a disappointment to them.  It was like they expected him to jump up, clothesline the waiter and then pedigree the maitre' d on the buffet table.  And yet, if he ever did do something that absurd, although they really wanted to see him do it, they'd then crucify him on the Internet for weeks about it too.

Yeah, wrestling fans were different.  Hardcore was almost too mild a word.  Rabid.  That one worked better.  These people would drive for hours just to stand in line and hurl obscenities at their favorites.  Screaming, cussing, frothing at the mouth, even spitting sometimes, while paying high-ticket prices and insane concession fees.  And they had a great time while doing it.  Didn't make sense.  Yet, most of the time, he found it extraordinarily amusing, in a psychological and sometimes sociological sort of way.  The more he observed these contradictory reactions, the more he understood the crowds.  And the better he became at controlling their emotions when he was in the ring.  And that's what he loved the most.

But fame from professional wrestling definitely had its drawbacks, too.  Like having people start chants of "Asshole!" when you were walking though the airport, leaving you to explain to the now-crying lady behind the counter that they're not yelling at her.  Interrupting your dinner, when you have a mouth-full of food, and asking for an autograph.  Fans coming up to you at urinals asking to shake your hand…not the best of timing obviously.  Sometimes even bringing their kids out to the hotel at three in the morning to try and see you.  Ring-rats sneaking into the hotel room and waiting in your bed completely naked.  Oh yeah, that one was always fun trying to explain whenever he had Nan with him. 

So yeah, being a celebrity, he was used to being stared at. 

Tina wasn't.

The young woman was practically burrowing her way into his side trying to keep the curious stares and eyes on her at bay.  She was trembling so violently that she stumbled against his side twice.  She'd not said a word since her outburst after he caught her when she threw herself at him.  He'd thought when they'd turned the corner to go back to Evolution's dressing room that she would calm down some, but it hadn't happened.  If anything it got a little worse.  And he didn't know what to do for her, save get her to Nan as soon as possible. 

He'd only known her for a little over two years, but he liked the young woman immensely, feeling almost as protective and proud of her as Nan did.  And, he had to admit to himself, it always warmed him a little whenever she called him "Uncle Hunter."  It was nice.  Almost like he had a family that he belonged to. 

~<>~

It's been so long since we took the time,
No-one's to blame,
I know time flies so quickly…
…It'll be just like starting over
Starting over
       Starting Over - John Lennon

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:32 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

It was odd, she thought.  Ever since they'd both shared that brief crying jag a few minutes prior, they'd almost gone back to where they'd been so many years ago.  Almost.  Obviously things were different now.  Ric was nearing the end of his career rather than the beginning, and she was no longer a little girl who thought he could do no wrong.  But the ease, the open affection, and even the teasing tone were all back.  Both of them slipped into it like they'd never had a falling out of any kind.  Ric had even started calling her Sunshine again, rather than her name…just like he always used to.  And he'd gone back to being Naitch for her.  Weird.  She was sure that her psychologist friend would say that it was only an indication that neither one of them really wanted to be mad at each other, both truly missing each other's presence in their lives.  And, she admitted ruefully, her friend would probably be right.  Her anger, all of these years, was born out of extreme emotional hurt.  And he'd said he was sorry.  That was enough for her, for now.  She could wait on the particulars.

She still had a lot of animosity, and he had an extra large helping of guilt, but maybe they'd be able to work it out.  And she figured Hunter may even help.  Once, of course, he knew the whole story and after he'd gotten over being livid with her for not telling him about it.  But he was going to have to know, and soon.  No way could they keep it a secret from him.  They didn't even respond to each other the way they used to.  So, he needed to know immediately before his brain took him in the completely wrong direction about Ric, her, and their 'new-found' friendship.

Earlier that evening dictates had come down from Bischoff that all of the talent, except for Benoit and Triple H, were due in the ring at the opening credits.  No reason given.  So, time to get ready. Ric laughed to himself as he stood in front of the locker where he'd stowed his ring gear.

"What?"  Nan asked, seeing his smile and hearing the laugh. 

Ric turned around holding up two of his infamous flashy robes, an orangey-gold one and a yellow one with peacocks embroidered on the edges.  "Which one, Sunshine?"

Nan grinned,  "You always used to do that."

He chuckled and nodded.  "Yeah, which is why I wore the pink one with the feathers a lot when I was in North Carolina.  You seemed to like that one the best."

"What little girl doesn't like pink or feathers?"  She asked.  "I had several favorites.  The black and white striped one, the bright red one, and the dark rose one with the cape too."

"You still seem to have a fondness for pink."  At her puzzled look he grinned.  "Hunter's shirts?"

He was surprised to see a slight blush tinge her cheeks.  "Yeah.  I like pink on him.  Looks really good on blondes."

Ric's grin widened, and his eyes flashed with deviltry.  "Maybe we should try and get him a pink robe with feathers on it."

"Oh, you're vile!  But it's not a half-bad idea." Nan laughed, the mental image of Hunter in that robe just too much for her. 

"I'll see what I can do."

"Hey, it's your life, Naitch.  If you wanna end it early, be my guest."  She giggled, holding up her hands.  "But about your robes.  I have to admit that I like the deep blue one the best now.  Whatever happened to it?"

"Eugene," he said with a grimace.  "Haven't worn it since Hunter loaned it to him."

"Oh," her mouth formed a perfect 'o' and she chewed on her lip for a moment.  "Okay.  The orange one."

He looked at her, and smiled. "Orange it is, then."

She smiled back. 

~<>~

Now, now, now is the time - time
Time to be - be - be aware
Let There Be More Light – Pink Floyd

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:33 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Arena Corridor - Pittsburgh, PA 

Nearing the door, Hunter looked up, surprised to see Randy and Dave standing sentry outside of the dressing room, both with serious frowns on their faces, looking like they were expecting to face down a screaming horde or something.  "What gives, guys?"

Randy shot a look at Dave who pursed his lips then stared down at the floor.

"Today."  Hunter said, annoyance clear in his tone.

"Naitch.  He told us to take a walk," Randy answered absently, his curious gaze on the shapely blonde who was currently trying to slide behind Hunter.

Hunter adjusted his hold on her, preventing her from hiding.  "Stop it, Squirt."  He looked back up at them.  "Everything okay?"

Dave shrugged, then faced his leader.  "I guess.  There was lots of yelling earlier then everything got kind of…quiet."

Hunter's whiskey colored eyes narrowed, and sharpened on the two of them.  Something was going on, and these two knew what it was.  But Randy spoke up with a chuckle before Hunter could comment on it.

"Heh-heh.  Maybe one of them finally killed the other."

Tina's head popped up at that, her eyes wide and scared, her voice a bare whisper.  "Uncle Hunter?"

Hunter smiled down at her.  "Randy's joking, Squirt.  He's always clowning around.  I'm sure Nan's just fine."  He looked back up at the youngest member of Evolution, all traces of his smile gone.  "Open the door, funny-man."

Randy did as he was told, mouthing to Dave as Hunter and the young woman walked inside, "Uncle Hunter?"

Dave just shrugged and walked in behind them. 

~<>~

So ya
Thought ya
Might like to go to the show
To feel the warm thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow
Tell me is something eluding you, Sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
If you'd like to find out what's behind these cold eyes?
You'll just have to claw your way through the
Disguise
       In The Flesh – Pink Floyd

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:33 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Private Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

"You're in a good mood," she observed as he came strolling into the room with a big grin on his face, rather than his customary scowl.

"I've reason to be," he answered shortly.  "Now.  Did you do as I asked?"

She batted her lashes and favored him with a sultry smile.  "Of course.  Wasn't hard either."

He raised an eyebrow.  "No problems?" 

"Nothing I couldn't handle."  She tossed her head.  "She's not as smart as likes to think she is."

"Or perhaps she's just too trusting for her own good."  He murmured thoughtfully.  "And you erased all tracks leading back to either one of us."

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

He chuckled.  "No, I've known you far too long to ever do that.  Now, hand it over."

She plucked something the pocket of her jacket and passed it to him, but snatched it away just before he touched it.  "Ah-ah-ah.  What about my…payment?"

"Don't toy with me, young lady.  Not a wise move," he warned.

She ignored the frosty look in his eyes.  "You'll keep your end of our bargain?"

He grinned coolly at her.  "You'll get exactly what's coming to you.  I guarantee you that."  At her dubious look, he smiled at her.  "Trust me." 

~<>~

One inch of love is one inch of shadow
Love is the shadow that ripens the wine.
Set the controls for the heart of the sun.
The heart of the sun, the heart of the sun.
Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun – Pink Floyd

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:34 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

"Got a surprise for you, baby."  Hunter announced as they walked into the room, guiding Tina in a little further.

"What's…" Nan turned away from Ric, as he lowered the yellow robe he still held, her eyes seeking out Hunter automatically.  "Tina?!"

The young woman in question peeled herself away from Hunter, dropped the make-up case that she previously clutched to the floor, and, carefully, threw herself down on the couch.  She wrapped her arms around Nan's waist, and cried on her shoulder.  "Oh, Nettie!  What am I gonna do?!"

Nan enveloped Tina in her arms.  "Squirt, what's wrong?  What are you doing here?"  When all Tina could do was cry even harder, Nan looked up at Hunter. 

He just shrugged, shaking his head.  "Guys, could you give us a minute?"

"Sure, Hunter.  No problem."  Dave nodded.  "We're due in the ring anyway.  Come on Randy.  You coming, Naitch?"

"Yeah, yeah."  He nodded slipping the orange robe over his shoulders and looping it tight.  "Right behind you."  After sharing a glance with Nan, and a slight nod, Ric followed the other two men out of the dressing room and into the corridor, closing the door with a soft snick behind them.

Hunter walked into the adjoining bathroom, and came out a few minutes later, with a handful of tissues.  He sat down on the other side of Tina, so that she was in the middle between them.  Without saying a word, they just sat there, letting the young woman cry.  Nan lifted sad eyes to Hunter, who met her gaze over Tina's bent head.  Hunter tapped an index finger under his right eye, then nodded at Tina.

Nan's eyes narrowed, and she pulled back from her.  "Squirt, look at me."

Tina stiffened.  Although Nettie's tone was gentle, there was no way in the world that could have been a request.  She had the same steel in her voice as her Dad got when he was ticked off at her.  And both of them sounded just like Grampa when he was barking out orders.  The jig was up, she thought, realizing she'd forgotten to add more concealer to cover her black eye.  Sighing, she lifted her head.

Nan just stared at her for a moment, then hissed,  "Where…is…he."

"I don't know," Tina answered quietly, then got louder.  "And I don't care.  And I don't want you or Uncle Hunter going to jail over him, Nettie."

"Don't give me orders, little girl."  Nan murmured.  "I warned that sonofabitch what would happen to him if he ever laid a hand on you and he chose to ignore me.  And what on God's green earth makes you think that Hunter or I would go to jail over it?"

"Murder's illegal, Nettie."

"Only if they find a body," Hunter growled, now having proof that Tina had indeed been smacked around by that asshole boyfriend of hers.  He stood up and began to pace.  "Which, I can almost personally guarantee that they'll never be able to do."

Tina's eyes grew wide.  "Uncle Hunter, you can't…you…"

"Hunter, stop it.  You're frightening her."  She lifted a brow and turned back to Tina.  "Squirt, you know as well as I do, that Hunter and I won't kill anyone."

"Doesn't mean I can't beat the living shit out of him a little."

Nan continued like she hadn't heard him.  "And you also know that this doesn't end here.  You think your Dad, your Uncle Brun, and your Grampa are gonna just let this slide?"

Tina looked down.  "No," she whispered.  "But, can't you just keep it quiet for a little while?  I mean, until I can get my things from our…"

Nan's face clouded over as she heard what Tina hadn't said.  "Valentina Eleanor Elliott!  When did you move in with that complete and total waste of plasma and when where you gonna tell me?!"

"Easy, baby," Hunter warned.

"He hit her, Hunter!"

"I'm aware of that!" he snapped, responding to her tone.  "You just don't want to lose your perspective right now."

"What I want, Hunter, is that bastard's balls in a blender for putting his hands on my baby, but ain't life a bitch!"

Tina started laughing, effectively stopping the argument any further.  "Sounds like she's got her perspective pretty much on target, Uncle Hunter."

"God, but you Elliott women are a blood-thirsty bunch!"

Tina and Nan shared a look and a smile so full of wicked delight that it actually made him uneasy.  Nan smiled up at him.  "Might wanna keep it in mind, sweetheart."

Hunter shook his head, lifting his eyes to the ceiling.  "I gotta be nuts for doing this, but, Tina you're staying with us until we can get this straightened out."

"But Uncle Hunter…"

"No, no buts,"  Nan interrupted, agreeing with him.  "Greenwich is only an hour from New Haven, so you can still go to school when you start back this fall.  Plus, the whole bottom floor of the house is equipped as a separate apartment."

"And we'll make sure you get your things from Dickless,"  Hunter nodded.

Tina thought about it for a moment, knowing that she'd have to tell them about school soon enough.  But now wasn't the time.  But it would be nice to be with Nettie and Uncle Hunter for a while, even if it didn't last too long.  She'd always felt safe with them, which was one of the reasons why she called her aunt's live-in-boyfriend "Uncle" rather than just by his name.  And he seemed to really like it when she did.  Of all of her aunt's various boyfriends over the years, she liked Hunter the best.  Besides, in her mind, he was worthy of the title.  Because she just knew deep down inside, that someday he really would be her uncle.  But still, she didn't want to be a burden on them either.

"I don't want to impose."

"Oh please,"  Hunter snorted.  "You're family.  It's not an imposition.  Especially if we offer."

Nan turned Tina's face back towards her.  "Squirt, let me tell you something.  When your Dad first laid you in my arms when I was just fifteen years old, I looked down in those huge blue eyes staring up at me, and I swore that very moment that I would go to my grave protecting you if you needed it.  Do you remember Jeremy Watson?  The idiot teenager who liked to push you down to watch you cry when you were only three?  Remember what I did when I found out about it?"

Tina nodded, and whispered quietly,  "Yeah.  That's kind of a hard thing to forget."

Hunter frowned, not having heard this story before.  "What'd she do, Squirt?"

Tina looked up at him, her blue eyes full of devious mischief, looking so much like Nan, around the eyes and nose, at that moment that it was kind of creepy.  "She beat the crap out of him with his own field hockey stick.  Broke his arm, too."

"Holy shit."  Hunter laughed.  "How old were you when you assaulted this kid?"

"Eighteen.  He was sixteen.  He knew better, because I'd had run-ins with him before.  And I didn't assault him.  I made sure it was self-defense," Nan answered with a cold tone and an even icier gaze.

"Yeah," Tina agreed with a sarcastic smile.  "By egging him on and making him mad enough to take a swing at you."

"A swing, hell,"  Nan snorted.  "I made sure he bloodied my nose so I'd have proof when I went after him." 

Hunter's gaze just bounced back and forth between aunt and niece.  He'd suspected since right before they'd started dating that she had a violent streak, but now he had confirmation.  "He was a minor.  You weren't.  How'd you keep from going to jail?"

"Brun."

"That's right.  He's a cop."

Nan shook her head.  "My brother being a cop had nothing to do with it."

"Yeah," Tina grinned sweetly.  "He just pointed out to Watson that his dad wouldn't take to kindly to finding out that his boy was beat by a girl.  And a short one at that."

"And that worked?"  Hunter asked.

"Of course," Nan commented casually.  "Hunter, this kid was shaped like a Peterbilt and just about as bright. Reminds me of Lesner, only with a lower IQ.  And his Dad was a redneck, alcoholic, woman-beating asshole, and he was raising his son to be just like him.  Who knows.  Maybe I did him a favor."

It was weird, he thought, but he really felt kind of…proud…of her.  He smiled, giving in to the feeling.  "Beating up a kid with a stick.  That's my baby."

"I protected her.  Just like I protect all those I love.  And by God,"  she smiled, looking back at Tina, her eyes going glassy.  "That's exactly what I'm gonna continue to do, even if I have to do it in spite of you.  And even though you immediately threw up on me when I made that vow, I've not changed my mind to this day."

Hunter laughed, and lifted his hands.  "Okay!  That's enough for me.  I draw the line at discussing gross bodily fluids in mixed company.  Besides.  With you two, you never know where that conversation will end up."  He cupped his hand around the back of Tina's head, and leaned over, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.  "You've always got a home with us, Squirt."

Tina's voice wobbled and her eyes filled again.  "Thanks, Uncle Hunter.  I love you."

"You too, Squirt," Hunter's voice was thick with emotion, and he cleared his throat, loudly.

Tears spilled over her lashes, and she covered her mouth with her hand.  "Uhm…bathroom?"

"Through there."  Hunter pointed at the door to their left, at the back of the room.

"Thanks.  Be right back."  Tina scooped up her discarded make-up case, practically vaulted off the couch and ran for the bathroom.

Before she could disappear inside, Nan called out to her.  "Squirt, wash your face.  I wanna see that eye without all of that pancake covering it up.  Get me?"

"I got you, Nettie," Tina whispered, then slipped inside, closing the door behind her. 

~<>~

Remember when you were young,
You shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes,
Like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Shine On You Crazy Diamond – Pink Floyd

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:45 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Bathroom - Pittsburgh, PA 

Tina closed the bathroom door and sagged against it, exerting every bit of muscle control she possibly could, trying desperately to make her legs to stop shaking.  Clutching her make-up case to her abdomen, she took a few wobbly steps towards the counter top and bank of sinks to her left, before her feet reminded her of every single step she'd taken since leaving that beaten down rust bucket on the side of the road.  The balls of her feet felt like she was walking on scorching shards of broken glass.  Toeing off her stack pumps, she hopped up onto the counter and indulged in a blissful sigh, as she swung her feet back and forth like a little girl.  Which was certainly how she felt sometimes.  Tonight definitely.

Sighing again, she turned sideways, hiking her leg up onto the counter, and turned on the water in one of the sinks.  She made quick work of retrieving her facial cleansers and scrubbing the make-up from her face as ordered.  Once sparklingly clean and pink, Tina stared in shock at the horror that had been her right eye.

Chip hit her post-makeup.  She had applied more.  Twice, as the bruising showed through the concealer.  She'd known it was probably pretty ugly.  And she'd thought that the obscured vision problem she was having had come from the crying she'd done since she'd arrived at the arena.  But as she stared at her own reflection, she felt her stomach roll over.  Her eye was black and blue from severe bruising that extended from her brow ridge to the upper cheekbone.  And the lid itself was swelling up; thus her vision was slightly impaired.  Soon she wouldn't be able to see out of it at all, unless she got some help with it, and soon. 

Uncle Hunter would know what to do.  She'd ask him.  She dreaded going back out there and have them see it, though.  But there was no way she could hide in here all night.  They were gonna freak.  Nettie especially.

 It was weird, she thought to herself, allowing her mind to wander.  Sometimes Nettie acted more like a mom than an aunt.  Most of the time, she was the cool aunt.  The one that she had shared secrets with, first kisses, new crushes.  Stuff like that.  But every now and then, she'd go all maternal on her.  It happened more often when she was younger or when she was hurt.  Like when she'd broken Jeremy Watson's arm with his own hockey stick.  Or like now with the eye.  But Nettie had always been like that, if she really stopped to think about it.  At least with her, anyway.

She wasn't nearly as bad with Uncle Brun's kids, her cousins Geoffrey, Justin, and Jessie.  She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the rhythmic mental recitation of the 'J' sounding names.  She pulled her thoughts back on track.  Come to think of it, Nettie came closest to being motherly to Isaias, or Pepito, as most everyone called him.  Yet, she didn't quite hit the same mark with Pepito as she did with herself. 

Nettie had a major weakness for little boys, especially ones who had a tendency to stir up trouble.  And Ramón and Angela's dark eyed, six-year-old demon seed had a special talent for doing just that.  Oh yeah, that one was a future juvenile delinquent in the making.  He'd probably grow up to be a politician, she thought with a fond smile of her youngest cousin.  The one with the angel's face complete with two horns holding up his halo.

No, the maternal stuff and fierce, even sometimes violent, protectiveness was there for all of them.  It was just more with her.  Growing up, she'd always thought that it was because Nettie had barely turned fifteen when she was born, Nettie's birthday being in October, and she being born in February.  So they were more like sisters than aunt and niece.  But now, looking at it through adult eyes, she wasn't so sure.

When her own mother died when she was eight, in a lot of ways, her aunt filled that void in her life.  Nettie had been twenty-three years old and had just begun her Senior year in college.  But she'd transferred schools, moved back home, and switched from full-time to part-time, all just so she could be close to her.  That memory always gave Tina a warm feeling whenever she thought about it.  Being so young when she passed away, Tina had very few memories of Patricia Elliott, her mother.  And Dad had gotten married to Katie when she was sixteen.

Katie was a lovely woman, very sweet and kind.  And she definitely made her dad happy.  But she wasn't her mom.  Tina was used to going to Nettie for 'mom stuff' by that point.  After all, she'd been doing it for eight years, and by then she was deep into her 'teenage traumas' as Bobby used to say.

That memory gave her whirlwind thoughts pause.  Bobby.  A bittersweet pang gripped her chest.  She missed him.  He was funny and always nice to her.  It had been so hard sometimes, watching Nettie run herself into the ground between work, school, the hospital and whatever she had going on.  Dance recitals, swim team meets, drama productions, the prom, and graduation.  She'd been a junior in high school when Bobby died.  And except for the two weeks Nettie had taken off to go to Florida in July and then to Texas in August of that year, she'd carried on like she always had.  Running the coliseum, being there for her, and eventually dating again, about two months after Bobby passed away. 

A lot of people in their hometown gave her crap about dating so soon after Bobby's death.  They said she'd not grieved enough.  That she hadn't really loved him since she didn't even cry at his funeral.  And it never failed to ignite Tina's flash-fire temper.

"Stupid asses wouldn't feel that way if they'd seen her watch him die for two freaking years," she grumbled quietly.

That's what most of the small-minded moronic imbeciles from the small town they both lived in just didn't seem to get.  The man they all knew as Robert 'Bobby' Wallace, a highly decorated police officer, veteran of Desert Storm, and all around home-town hero had died almost a year before his body finally gave out.  That last year he lived mostly in ICU at the Veteran's Hospital.  There wasn't anything left of the man they knew.  With the very rare brief moments of lucidity, he stayed almost comatose, but not quite, due to the amount of painkillers that were being pumped into him.  He had a Do Not Resuscitate clause in his will, but physically, he was still alive.  It was his mind, the part of him that made him Bobby, which had already gone.  Granted, there were moments, few and far between, where he'd seem to rally a bit.  Sometimes he'd even open his eyes and Bobby would be looking out from behind them, rather than the drugged zombie that hovered between life and death for so long. 

Those times gave them hope he'd come out of it.  She'd been there once when it happened.  She had come by to see him, hearing from Grandma that he wasn't doing well.  Easing open the door, she saw Nettie sitting by his bed, and reading to him.  He had his eyes closed, and she couldn't tell if he were asleep or not.  Bobby was a Sci/fi nut, and Nettie was reading out of the latest Star Trek paperback.  Covering her mouth with her hand, she was shocked at how gaunt the once vibrant man now looked.  Not wanting to interrupt what looked to be a private moment, Tina didn't go in, but rather she stood silently at the door and watched.  She knew she was intruding, but she couldn't seem to pull herself away. 

Soon she too was wrapped up in the tale Nettie was reading from the book.  But before she could get to the end of the chapter, Bobby opened his eyes.  Evidently Nettie saw it, because she stopped reading.  Tina watched them just look at each other, both sets of deep brown eyes sad, and she felt like crying herself.  Very slowly, and with trembling fingers, he raised a paper-thin hand and gently ran it over Nettie's cheek.  She caught his hand in hers, held it to her face, and leaned into the caress.

After a moment of that silent stare, Bobby drew in a deep breath and whispered something she couldn't make out.  But her aunt did.  And whatever he'd said made one lone tear roll down her face.  She nodded, and laid his hand back down in the bed.  But she didn't let go.  Bobby closed his eyes again, and Nettie went back to reading, her voice calm, even, and not a trace of sadness in it, though it was all over her face.  Tina left shortly after that, unable to stay a moment longer, and feeling very guilty that she'd witnessed such raw intimacy at all. 

The next morning, Grandma called to tell them that Bobby had died during the night.  Nettie had stayed with him until the very end.  She'd even been there when he drew his last breath.  And Tina never did ask what Bobby had said to her that last time.  Some questions were just too personal to ask.

Oh yes, she'd grieved enough, despite what the small-minded assholes back home thought.  She'd seen Nettie grieve for Bobby.  One time.  And it had scared the hell out of her.

Tina felt the burn of tears behind her eyes and blinked furiously, snapping her back to her current dilemma.  Her stomach rolled again.  She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, staving off the nausea that had dogged her for about three or four weeks now.  A series of images flashed in front of her eyes.  Chip coming into the motel bathroom unannounced.  Catching her with an unopened EPT box.  Dragging her out of the bathroom by her upper arm, which still ached.  Screaming at her about ruining his life.  And then finally, a large fist headed straight at her face.

Vaguely she remember bouncing off the dresser, falling to the floor, and curling up in the fetal position, unbelieving that he'd actually hurt her.  But the screaming had continued.  Most of what he'd said didn't even make any sense.  When he'd finally quieted a bit, she crawled back into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.  That's when she saw that Chip had left her make-up case, but he'd taken the pregnancy test. 

She still didn't know.

An unrelenting wave of nausea washed over her and this time, she bolted for one of the stalls.  A few sickening and painful minutes later, she stumbled back to the sink, one hand clutching at her abdomen and the other just pressed tightly just under her left breast against her ribs, and the sharp ache that developed there sometime during her drive.  Carefully, she tugged her blouse out of her skirt and peeled it upward, not at all surprised to see her left side just as black and blue as her eye.  The dresser certainly had done a number on her.  And it hurt to breathe. 

Great, she thought.  Just freaking great.  Black eye.  Bruised arm.  Maybe busted ribs.  Hell, if the night keeps on like this, there won't be enough of my ass left for Nettie to kick.

She retrieved her toothbrush from her case and began brushing her teeth.  She stared at herself in the mirror, wondering how she was going to tell Nettie that she might be pregnant.  With a baby she didn't want, fathered by an abusive asshole for whom she wouldn't even cross the street to piss in his ear if his brain were on fire.  Now if she were to add gasoline…

Tina shook her head, grinning at the depth of violence her thoughts had taken on.  She must be more like Nettie than she'd thought.  She squared her shoulders, and stared down her own image, sticking her chin in the air as she rinsed out her toothbrush.  She was an Elliott after all.  She could handle this, if she really were pregnant.  And Nettie and Uncle Hunter would be more than happy to help, she was sure.  They both loved children.

Nettie.  God, she didn't know which would be harder.  Being a single mother, or dealing with the look that she just knew would be on her aunt's face when she told her.  This whole situation was just fucked from the get-go.  She who didn't want kids right now.  And Nettie, who wanted them so badly, but couldn't have any.

Life certainly wasn't fair, sometimes.  Uncle Brun was right, she decided.  There was no such thing as gravity.  The Earth just sucked. 

~<>~

She kisses me each morning, and smiles a sleepy smile
She doesn't have to say it, I can see it in her eyes
Don't you worry about my woman
Or what you think she ought to be
She's close enough to perfect for me
       Close Enough To Perfect - Alabama

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 8:46 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

Once they were alone, Hunter walked around to the other side of the couch, looking down at Nan.  A slight grin curved his lips as he sat down on the coffee table in front of her.  "And you.  Try not to beat up anyone while I'm in the ring tonight.  Okay, baby?"

"Ain't promisin' nothin'," she grinned, and jiggled her crutches with her foot, where they leaned up against the couch.  "I'm a truly dangerous woman.  You armed me yourself, remember?" 

He grinned, scratching at his beard.  "A decision I'll soon come to regret, I'm sure.  I've got to go shower and get ready."

Nan nodded.  "Gotcha.  Once Tina comes out, we'll go down to the viewing room.  I'll introduce her to some of the guys."

Before she could reach for her crutches, Hunter grabbed her hand.  "Baby, I'd rather you stay in here tonight."

"Why?"  She looked at him warily.

Hunter sighed knowing this was gonna piss her off.  "I want you have at least one member of Evolution with you for a while."

"How long are we talking about here?"  At his vague shrug, she narrowed her eyes.  " I see.  Until you say otherwise. Hunter, I don't like this."

"I know."

"I'm used to having full run of the arenas.  I don't like being squirreled away in the locker rooms.  I like hanging out with my friends backstage," she pointed out.  "Hunter, please, give me a reason not to be a bitch about this."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged.  "Until two things.  One, you have the use of both legs, unaided by crutches or any other medical equipment."  At her nod of agreement, he pressed on.  "And two, once I'm satisfied that I've gotten who sent those pictures."

"That could take forever!"

"No it won't," he disagreed.  "I'm almost positive it was one of a couple of people.  I just need a little more proof."

"You're still thinking Angle."

"Among others, yeah.  I just wanna be really sure.  So.  You stay with me, Randy, Dave, or Naitch.  Understood?"

Nan crossed her arms over her chest, not quite yet willing to give in.  "And if I don't?"

Hunter's gaze turned dark.  "Then I'll have no choice but to have Bischoff revoke your VIP pass and you'll stay at home until you can agree to do as I ask."

"You wouldn't!" Nan gasped.

He furrowed his brows, leaned in across the table, and growled very low.  "Try me."

"Hunter!"

"No," he held up a finger.  "You said it yourself about Tina.  It goes for me as well.  I'll go to my grave protecting you even if I have to do it in spite of you, remember?  And Nan, until we know who did this, and until you're fully mobile again, you are not to be without someone there that I trust to protect you to their fullest ability.  No exceptions.  So what's it gonna be, baby?  Stay here in the dressing rooms?  Or do put you and Tina into the limo and send you both back to the hotel?"

"I can't believe you're actually doing this."

"Believe it."  He locked gazes with her, hoping she'd back down and he wouldn't have to do as he'd said.  It wasn't an idle threat.  Because, by God, he'd do it.

Nan had known him long enough to know when he could be swayed and when he couldn't.  And this time he couldn't be swayed.  Most of her female friends, as small a number as there were, would be horrified to see her 'do as she was told,' as it would probably offend their 'empowered woman' sensibilities.  But she'd been raised differently.  She'd been raised to see the men in her life, namely her father, and her husband - or in this case, Hunter - as the head of the house and family.  Thereby, they had the final say so on matters.  However, her parents hadn't raised her to be a mindless drone either.  They'd taught her how to choose a man who understood that particular responsibility and all it entailed.  A man who could be dominant, without being domineering.  One who wouldn't try to grind her under his heel.  Hunter didn't.  And heaven knew he didn't say 'no' to her often. 

"All right," she nodded with a sigh.  "I'll make sure one of you guys are with me all of the time.  But Hunter?  Try to figure this out soon, okay?"

"Thank you."  His face softened, and he smiled at her.  "I promise.  As soon as this is straightened out, I'll turn you loose to wreak havoc backstage once again."  But she didn't smile.  "Aw, baby, don't be that way."

Hunter slid off the table to sit beside her on the large couch.  He titled her face up, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing his thumb along the smooth skin of her jaw.  "I don't want anything to happen to you.  Don't you see that?"

She nodded, and whispered quietly, "Of course I do, Hunter.  I just…I don't like it that someone else has this much power over our lives."

"I don't either.  And they won't have it for long.  I promise you that," he assured her.  "Now come on.  Give me a smile and let me go get ready."

Her eyes lit up.  With a saucy smile, she replied, "Make me."

"Heh-heh," he chuckled with a sideways grin.  "You really are askin' for it tonight aren't you?"

"Yup."  She slid her arms around his shoulders, and nipped at his lips between gentle kisses, "So shut up, and gimme what I'm asking for, already.  Or at least an appetizer."

"That I can definitely do." 

Hunter slid his fingers up into that mass of hair, curling them into fists, holding her head in  place as he lowered his mouth to hers.  He caressed her lips delicately at first, barely moving.  When she parted them in invitation, he ignored it.  Instead he suckled gently on her bottom lip, teasing her by tracing it with the tip of his tongue, savoring her deep heated puffs of breath as she moaned low in her throat.  Her fingers clenched on his shoulders, and he knew he was getting to her. 

With supreme slowness and tenderness, he opened his mouth, slanting it over hers.  Tentatively, she ran her tongue along the rim of his teeth, and he caught it, sucking on it deep, drawing it into his heat.  At her louder groan, he released her, then advanced his attack, plundering the depths of her mouth, lapping at her like a man dying of thirst.  She was sweet and hot beneath his onslaught, and she began those mewling, purring noises that always brought him to full erection.  He was halfway there already.

He groaned in response.  If he didn't have to go on, if her niece wasn't just in the other room, he'd definitely give her something to purr about.  With great regret, he pulled away.

"We can't…not now," he panted, not pleased at all with that statement.

"I know.  "Damnit all to hell," she answered, just as out of breath as he.  But she nibbled along his jaw anyway, enjoying the scrape of his beard.

The door to the bathroom opened.  "Oops!"  Tina squeaked. 

With one last lingering, but chaste peck to her lips, Hunter disentangled himself, grinning.  "Busted."

"I'm sorry!  I'll…uh…just go back…"

"It's okay, Tina.  Come on.  Hunter needs to shower anyway."  Nan called to her.  Then she looked up at her.  "I'm gonna kill that little weasle-dicked motherfucker!"

Hunter turned so sharply that his neck popped.  A look of black rage, so dark and so fierce that Tina actually took a step backward, came over his face.  She stopped when he crooked a finger at her, then pointed to the coffee table.  "Come here."

He'd never used that growling tone with her before and she found it impossible to disobey, even if she'd wanted to.  Tina walked slowly towards them and sat on the edge of the table as he'd indicated she do.  Hunter lifted his hand towards her face, pausing only as she flinched and pulled away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Tina," he said in a gentle tone that completely contradicted the malevolent look on his face.  "I just want to see how bad it is.  Okay?"

At her nod, he tilted her face up towards the fluorescent lights so he could get a better look.  He inspected her face quietly for a moment, then emitted sort of a grumbly-snarly-sigh.  "Hell of a shiner you've got there, Squirt.  But I've seen worse.  Now, where else?"

"Huh?"  Tina asked, caught completely off guard by his question.

Hunter quirked an eyebrow at her.  "Don't try and play me, Squirt.  Where else are you hurt?"

Tina swallowed hard, then pulled up her shirt, stopping just at the edge of her bra, showing off the spectacular bruising along her rib cage.  She tried her best not to look at Nettie, but couldn't help it.  The look on her aunt's face was the same determined, ice-cold glare that she had right before she'd made Jeremy Watson attack her so she could beat him senseless.  And Tina knew, deep in her heart, that history was about to repeat itself.  And soon.

"Chip did this too?"  Hunter bit out.

Tina shook her head, first no, then yes.  "Sorta.  I fell into the edge of the dresser, when he clocked me in the face."

Hunter nodded, and stood up.  "Take it off."

"What?"

"The blouse.  Take it off."

"Hunter," Nan started.

"She needs those ribs taped, baby."  He walked over to his silver case, opened it, and pulled out a healthy amount of white bandages and tape. "Whether or not they're broken, cracked, or just bruised, the tape will give her some support, and make it easier to breathe." 

He looked over his shoulder at Tina who just sat and stared at him, her cheeks aflame.  "Squirt, don't worry about your modesty.  Just take off the blouse.  Remember, unlike your aunt, I've seen you in a bikini, and I'll bet your bra covers more than that pink thing did that you wore last time you came to the house."

Her cheeks deepened in color even more, but she did as he asked, passing the garment to her aunt. 

"Christ on a crutch, Tina!" Nan yelled, seeing the bruise on her left biscep.  "Is there anywhere that ass-fuck didn't hit you?!"

"He didn't hit me.  He grabbed me and dragged me out of the bathroom." 

Exercising extreme control, but breathing heavily through his nostrils, Hunter crossed back over to the couch with more than just the bandages and tape.  He set the other items aside for the moment.  He looked directly in Tina's eyes, and is voice was deceptively soft.  "When we get home, you and I need to have a long talk.  Understand?"  At her nod, he ordered gently, "Arms out to the sides."

Tina lifted her arms so they were perpendicular to the floor and stared at the ceiling, trying not to wince too badly as he quickly and efficiently taped up her ribs. 

"All done," he declared when he gently smoothed the last piece of tape in place.  He handed her a ball of black fabric that he'd brought back with him.  "Now, wear this, it's loose and less constricting than your blouse."

She shook out the material to reveal one of his T-shirts, the one with the silver wings on it.  Grinning she slipped it over her head, flipped her hair out of the collar and stood up.  Immediately she and Nan started laughing.  Sized for Hunter, the shirt hung on Tina like a dress.  The cuffs of the sleeves hit her just past the elbows and the hem almost surpassed that of her skirt.  But he was right; it was soft and roomy.  Tina lifted the collar to her nose and breathed in.  Smelled like his cologne.  Nice.

"Can I keep it?"  She grinned at him.

With a twinkle in his eye, Hunter nodded.  "Sure.  If you want."

He watched as Tina grinned and immediately twisted the hem up into a complicated knot at her waist so it didn't look quite so baggy on her.  Didn't really help.  Actually, it made her look like a little girl caught playing in her daddy's closet.  She was cute.  Except for the huge shiner.

Hunter passed her a plastic blue packet.  "Break it in half."

Curious, she grasped both ends and bent the packet.  Only, it didn't break.  Not really.  Instead, it went from a flat, slightly cooler than room temperature plastic packet to a liquid blue ball covered in the same plastic.  And it was cold. 

"Cold jell pack.  Keep it pressed to that eye."  He reached over and did the same to another one, this time draping it over Nan's ankle. 

"Thanks, Uncle Hunter."

"Thank me later, Squirt.  Once both of you have seen the doctor tomorrow."  Standing, he picked up his case, and headed towards the bathroom.  But he stopped and turned to Tina.  "Make sure she stays off that ankle.  If you need me, holler.  And baby?"

"Yeah?"

"You're missing the opening of the show," Hunter grinned as he walked into the bathroom with his silver case.  His grin turned into full-blown laughter when he heard her response.

"Sonofabitch!  Where the fuck is that remote?!" 

~<>~

Stand up and be counted
For what you are about to receive
We are the dealers
We'll give you everything you need
Hail hail to the good times…
…We ain't no legend, ain't no cause
We're just livin' for today
For Those About To Rock – AC/DC

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 9:21 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

Tina was getting a crash course in the finer points of professional wrestling.  It seemed to be an eclectic mixture of soap-opera-esque story lines, professionally choreographed stunt shows, and a truly fine display of superb athleticism.  Even backstage, she could practically smell the blood lust from the crowd in the arena.  Testosterone saturated the very air she breathed, and violence was imminent.  It was intoxicating, heady, and utterly delicious in a carnal sort of way.  Her skin tingled, nerve endings firing off like starbursts on the fourth of July.  Breath became shallow, and her pupils were probably even dilated.  Excitement.  That was the only word for it.  The closest she'd ever come to intense, steamy, sweaty, exhausting, toe-curling sex without ever touching another human being.  Fleetingly she pondered the concept that perhaps this was the same way the crowds felt at the coliseum in Rome when the gladiators were preparing to battle.  But more-so as she was only backstage and not in the thick of things.  This would have to be corrected.  And soon, but not tonight.

Either way, she liked it.  And wanted more.  But of course, it didn't hurt at all that her senses were bombarded with a resplendent visual display of the masculine form that rivaled none other, including that of Michael Angelo's David, than to which she could ever recall having been witness.

Translation:  These guys were freaking nuclear they were so hot.

As she gazed up at the monitor on the wall, she now understood why her aunt had been addicted to this sport since she was very small.  And she wondered how long it would take her to catch up on who was doing what to - or in some cases with - whom.  Because there was no way after tasting this forbidden fruit was she getting kicked out of this garden.  Huh-uh!

Nettie had switched over to the closed circuit television input the moment Uncle Hunter went into the bathroom to get ready for his match.  They watched as the ring began to fill up, and Tina was very surprised that she didn't recognize anyone.  Just as she was about to ask her aunt where her friends were, a familiar voice sounded through the television speakers.

Stand back!  There's a hurricane comin' through!

"I know him!"  Tina blurted out, pointing at the screen, before she could stop herself.

"Hurricane?"  Nan asked, surprised.  "How do you know him?"

"He kept me company while I was waiting for you.  Uncle Hunter showed up instead," she replied, never taking her eyes off the charismatic young man from North Carolina.  "He was nice to me.  Shane, I mean."

"Yeah, I'll just bet he was," Nan murmured dryly, having heard rumors of his fondness for the ladies.  Pretty blondes in particular.  Then something struck her.  "Shane?"

"It wasn't like that, Nettie.  Really.  He just sat with me until Rosie and Uncle Hunter came.  While Chris was arguing with some black haired man who looked like he'd been suckin' on green persimmons."

"Had to be Bischoff."  Nan laughed.  "Rosie?  Chris?  Wait a sec.  Chris got you in?"

Tina nodded, smiling, and Nan couldn't help but notice the way her eyes tracked Hurricane's movements around the ring.

Not a bad idea, really.  She thought for a moment about Hurricane…uhm…Shane, and then she mulled over the idea of the wrestler with Tina.  Oddly enough, she really couldn't see any reason to feel uneasy about the young man.  He was nice, polite, and made a good living.  And while he had a penchant for pretty blondes, she really couldn't name a man who didn't.  He was almost eight years older than Tina, though, and that gave her pause.  Just a little more than seven years younger than herself.  But, she decided that could be a good thing.  It might provide some well needed stability for the somewhat sheltered young woman, if anything came of the spark she saw in Tina's eyes.  Of course, Tina's Dad would like the fact that he was from close to home.  And Grampa, her own father, would probably go ape-shit over the green hair.  Nan smiled her Grinch's smile.  Either way, it could be fun.

Nan observed her, not saying anything, preferring to watch Tina watch Hurricane, and not really caring about who won the Battle Royal.  She noted the bright smile, the flushed cheeks, and the first signs of life in her eyes.  She hadn't seen that look in Tina's eyes since before she hooked up with that waste of skin, Chip Davis.  Only a few minutes of observation were required to tell her everything she needed to know.

Number One: The love of wrestling must have been a genetic trait, because it was definitely in Tina's blood.  People just couldn't fake responses like she was displaying.  No one was that good of an actor.  Well, DeNiro aside, of course.

For someone who had never seen professional wrestling in her life, Tina was enthralled.  Every time someone took a bump, her eyes were all over it, heart pounding, breath coming in small pants, her fingers curled into tight fists against her thighs. She got excited when Jericho and Edge came out, because she knew them.  And when Kane made his way to the ring, she shot Nan a censoring look, but kept her silence, for painfully obvious reasons.  She booed and cheered, and Nan was even positive she'd heard her hiss a couple of times.  

And while she obviously was enjoying the show, her most telling reactions stemmed from something else.  Namely, the green-haired young man who'd clearly captured her interest.  And that led directly to her second observation.

Number Two: Tina was majorly crushed out on one Shane Helms.  It made sense though.  He was her first encounter with a nice man after being hit by her ex-boyfriend - and one who dressed up like a super hero at that.   

When Hurricane got thrown over the top rope, only to be caught by Rosey and then thrown back in, Nan thought Tina would fly apart.  The girl actually came up off the couch a little bit before settling back down into the cushions.  But when he went back out for good, Nan didn't know who was more disappointed.  Hurricane or Tina.

"Damnit!"  Tina groused, sinking back further into the couch.  Her blue eyes darted to the door then back to the TV screen and back to the door again.

Nan grinned, an indulgent look in her eyes, and slid an arm around Tina, who leaned her head back against Nan's shoulder.  It looked like Tina had finally found her knight in shinning armor.  Or, more appropriately, her hero.  Taking pity on her, she said softly.  "One minute fifteen."

Tina looked at her uncomprehending.  "Huh?"

"One minute, fifteen seconds.  That's how long it takes, usually, to get from the ring to the dressing rooms.  Leave the door open just in case."  She pulled her VIP badge off her blouse, and clipped it to the T-shirt Tina wore.  "Get out there.  You're losing time."

"Nettie, you're the best!"  With a brilliant smile, she threw her arms around Nan, and then bolted for the door, and slipping silently through it to the corridor beyond. 

~<>~

More days to come
New places to go
I've got to leave
It's time for a show
Here I am
Rock you like a hurricane
Here I am
       Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 9:40 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Arena Corridor - Pittsburgh, PA 

Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid!  Hurricane chastised himself mentally while stalking back down the corridor.  To get thrown over the top rope by Rodney Mack and Steven Richards was just the ultimate in humiliation, for him anyway.  He didn't mind losing.  Not really.  It always provided an opportunity for improvement.  But losing to Steven Richards was just too much.  At least the class 'A' Doink had to have the Mack's help.  That made it a little easier to swallow.  Not much though.  It wasn't like he really stood a chance against Benoit or Triple H if he'd had to face one of them at Summer Slam.  He wasn't ready, and he knew it.  But oh, man!  He slammed his fist into his palm. 

Just to have had the match would have been an honor.  Against either one of them.  Trips would probably break him in half, and then stomp on the pieces just because he got his jollies off stuff like that.  But it'd be worth it.  A title shot for the World Heavyweight Championship at Summer Slam.  And all he'd had to do was win a Battle Royal.  But noooooo!  Steven Richards had thrown him over the top rope.  Mr. I Once Dressed Up Like Chyna Including The Ass-less Leather Chaps!  Shit. 

Got up late.  Almost missed his flight.  Misplaced his mask twice before leaving the hotel room.  Couldn't get a cab to the arena.  Arrived late.  Lost the Battle Royal to Steven Freakazoid Richards.  And to top it off, she just had to be the Game's niece.  Great.  His day definitely just sucked.  Absolutely sucked.  With a capital Ssssssuck.

"Hey.  You looked good out there tonight."

So engrossed in beating himself up, he'd almost walked right past her.  He'd seen the bruise on her cheek earlier.  So he knew she probably had a shiner.  But he wasn't expecting the huge black eye, and swelling of the eyelid that he saw.  And if he were really honest with himself, he hadn't expected on seeing her again so soon.  Or maybe even ever, considering who her uncle was.  Yet there she stood, leaning against the wall, in a Triple H T-shirt, the same short blue skirt, and bare feet?  She had a cold gel-pack in her hand, only she wasn't using it.  And she was smiling at him.  He leaned one shoulder against the wall, facing her, and smiled back.

Well.  Things were looking up. 

~<>~

Family, a family, proud family
They'll make you scream, they make you wanna sing
It's a family thing, a family, proud proud family, proud family
They'll push your buttons, and wanna make you wanna hug 'em
It's a family thing, a family, proud proud family
       Proud Family - Destiny's Child

July 26, 2004 - Monday - 9:42 p.m.
Monday Night RAW - Evolution Dressing Room - Pittsburgh, PA 

Nan smiled, stifling a chuckle at the picture the young couple in the hallway beyond the dressing room door presented.  Yes, she knew that look on Tina's face.  She'd worn the same one for days after finally meeting Hunter for the first time.  Although they didn't get together for almost four years after that first meeting, she'd known, deep inside, that he was the man for her.  She just knew.  Like her mother had with her father, and back up the matriarchal line for generations.  And evidently, just like Tina did.  Nan nodded to herself, with a smile, gladly ignoring the Diva Search shit currently playing on the television.  It definitely ran in the family. 

~<>~

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love
       First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - E. MacColl

August 26, 1999
Premier of Smackdown! 

She watched and waited from a distance, in the shadows, her back pressed firmly up against the wall.  It was almost like she was trying to become one with the sheet rock.  She wasn't.  She just didn't want to be seen until she was ready.  It'd been four long, heart-breaking years since she'd stepped foot into any arena except her own and even then only sporadically.  She'd kept up with the WWF as much as she could, all things considering.  And she still had her friends on the inside.  Which was how she got into the building tonight.  She could barely believe it when she saw Arn Anderson.  And he almost didn't recognize her either.  That had been a nice reunion.  Short lived, though considering she needed to be where she could talk to someone.  So Arn had taken her and deposited her where she currently stood.  Up against a wall, right at the base of the ramp backstage, behind the Gorilla position.

There'd been a moment or two where she'd had a little bit of problems with security, but luckily Vince had come along and he'd straightened that out for her.  He too was amazed she was there, and pleased as well.  After all, it had been a long time since she'd seen her Granddaddy's old friend.  In truth, Vince was a few years younger than her own father.  But he'd been running the WWF for so long that he knew her Granddaddy, albeit only briefly before his death.  When Vince asked her if she were going to take back the reins now, she'd told him she wasn't sure.  She'd hired a more than capable manager during her…hiatus.  And they were working out just fine.  Though his eyes were sad, she could tell he was sincere when he said he understood, and that maybe it was better to take some time off.  Before he left, though, he did something that surprised her.  He'd hugged her and told her that he was looking forward to working with her again someday, because he knew she couldn't stay out of the business forever.  It was in her blood.

And damn him, he'd been right too.  She could already feel that familiar tingling under her skin.  The same tingling she got every time she was backstage.  Didn't matter in what capacity.  Mopping floors, taking tickets, or her personal favorite, running hither and yon, keeping up with who had to be where and when.  Granted, when you were with the arena rather than the show, it was different.  But exciting all the same. 

For the most part, no one noticed her.  There was one or two who smiled and waved on their way either to or from the ring.  And Undertaker decided to stop for a moment, which was nice, since she'd not seen him for so long.  After that, concealed in shadows as she was, she'd been allowed to observe the comings and goings without incident.  God, but it felt so good being back here again.  Almost like she'd come home.  And, in a way, she guessed that she had. 

The roar of the crowd just beyond where she was standing interrupted her musings.  Whatever it was they saw, they liked.  Most of them anyway.  That had been the main event just ending, if her watch was right.  From her position, she had a great view of who would be coming from the ring.  She was even in earshot too.  She straightened up.  The person she'd come to see should be out any moment now.

Hunter and Chyna came through the curtain together.  Though they stood close by each other, even touching, something on their faces, or in their carriage, said that they really were farther apart than most realized.  Shawn was right on their heels, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a too bright smile on his face, trying in vain to mask the agony he felt.  The moment the trio met up at the bottom of the ramp, Hunter shrugged off the hand that Chyna had laid on his arm, taking two steps to his left towards Shawn and ignoring the mixed look of anger and hurt on her face.

Breathing heavily from the match he'd just won, thanks to Shawn's help, Hunter tugged the title bet up a little higher around his waist where Shawn had buckled it for him.  "Shawn, man, what…what were you thinking?"

"Heh-heh," Shawn chuckled, sounding a lot more forced than he probably realized.  "Guess Sweet Chin Music wasn't the best of ideas, was it?  Got the job done though.  You've still got the gold."

"Yeah," Hunter nodded, still not too sure why exactly Shawn, as special guest referee, had dropped The Rock like a sack of wet rags on the premier of Smackdown.  "But why?  Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Shawn grimaced in pain and rubbed at the small of his back.  "Shane-o-Mac suggested I do something unexpected.  Didn't say what.  And I figured, what could be more unexpected than for me to drop Rock so you could keep the belt?  I mean, it ain't like we've been all that tight lately."

"You two act like you hate each other," Chyna observed without inflection.

Shawn cocked his head at Hunter.  "Don't we?"

Hunter looked for a moment like he might deny that statement.  However, a bellow from behind them stopped all conversation.

"Michaels!"  Rock roared as he came through the curtain, his dark eyes wide and furious, breathing through flared nostrils reminiscent of the Brahma Bull that he had tattooed on his biscep.  "What in the blue hell was that supposed to be about?!  Huh?  What makes you think you can waltz back in here in your fancy little shorts, deliver some Sweet Chin Music to The Rock, and screw the People's Champion out of the Heavyweight Championship?!"

"Back off, Rock!"  Chyna yelled, shoving at the big man.  "You got a problem with what he did?  Take it up with Shane!"

Rock glared at her, his trademark eyebrow raised, then looked down to where she'd shoved against his chest.  "Who are you to put your hands on The Rock without his permission?  Tell your she-ape to step away from The Rock, Triple H, before she finds a size thirteen boot shoved straight up her monkey ass!"

Growling, Hunter reached for Rock, a feral snarl twisting his lips.  But Shawn grabbed Hunter before he could touch the other man.  "Not now, man.  Wait.  You don't wanna lose your spot over unsanctioned backstage brawling.  You're the Champ, Hunter.  Act like it!"

With another furious snarl, and vicious look tossed in Chyna's direction for escalating the situation, Hunter shrugged off Shawn's hold, and locked stares with Rock.  "Fine," he growled between clenched teeth.  "But this isn't over.  Not by a long shot."

"You're damn right, it isn't."  He turned his glare on Shawn.  "With you either, Michaels.  The next time you step into that ring with The Rock, you had damn well better be ready.  Or don't step in at all."

Without waiting for a response, he shouldered past Shawn roughly, making absolutely sure that he hit his shoulder hard enough to twist his back.  Shawn bared his teeth in a grimace and a loud hiss of pain.  But Rock ignored him and kept walking towards the back, passing by a sad looking woman with big brown eyes and very long red hair.  He barely slowed, but he did toss a long look at her, an appreciative smile, and nod before he continued on his way.

Hunter's gaze followed Rock as he stalked off.  And in so doing, he spotted the redhead.  Their eyes locked on each other.  Dark chocolate met whiskey and held.  And held.  They must have stared at one another for longer than the mere seconds that it felt like.  Because Hunter's uncharacteristic lack of movement and complete silence drew the attention of both Shawn and Chyna.

Shawn reacted first.  He turned towards where Hunter was staring.  "What're you lookin…" His voice trailed off.  His mouth dropped open, blue eyes widening.  When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried easily enough to where she stood.  "Baby doll?"

A sad smile quirked her full lips up in the corners, and she nodded.  Tentatively she took two steps forward, nervously wiping her palms down the front of her jeans.

Her movement drew Shawn's attention to her right arm and the black armband around her biscep.  It stood out against her white blouse with a gut-wrenching clarity.  "Oh, baby doll, no.  No," he whispered, almost inaudibly. 

But Hunter heard it.  So did Chyna.  There was too much pain in it for them not to.

She heard his whisper too, and her face crumbled.  Pressing the back of a slightly trembling hand to her mouth, she answered him with a single nod.  With a distinct dragging limp, Shawn shuffled over to the redhead and wrapped his arms around her, coaxing her head against his shoulder.

Shawn's emotional whisper carried easily to where Hunter and Chyna stood.  "When?"

"April," she responded shakily, her voice muffled slightly against his chest.  "The thirtieth."

He pulled back a bit to look down at her.  No tears.  Her eyes, though dark, filled with pain and sadness, were dry.  "Cried out, huh?"  At her nod, he quirked a sad smile at her.  "You should have called me."

"No," she shook her head.  "You got to say goodbye in March.  Deez too.  Besides, he wanted it this way.  Just him and me…one last time."

Shawn nodded, seeing the logic in what she was saying.  "I'm sorry, baby doll."

She gave him a small smile.  "Thank you."

"Anything I can do?"

She took a deep breath and nodded, stepping backward out of his embrace.  "Actually, yeah.  That's why I came tonight.  I need to get away for about a week.  I went to see Deez right after the funeral.  Got back the second week of July.  I've been trying to deal with the house and everything…"  She waived a hand.

"I can't stay there anymore, Shawn.  I just can't."  She made a little noise that sounded like a laugh mixed with a sob, her chin wobbling until she pressed her hand over her mouth.  Her eyes took on a glassy shimmer. 

Shawn made a move like he would pull her close again, but she shook her head.  "No."  She paused, drew in another deep breath, then blew it out shakily, but with a bit of steel in her eyes this time.  "Robbie and Brun are moving me.  I'm under strict orders to stay away until they tell me I can go back home.  Wherever that may end up.  So, you mind if I crash with you for a week?  Me and Dixie?  I mean, you've been inviting me down to San Antonio for years now."

"That'll be perfect.  He's gonna need someone with him," a new voice spoke up over Shawn's shoulder.  It was deep, gruff, but slithered along her skin like a lover's touch.  It damn near took her breath away. 

She looked up and right into those incredible amber-brown eyes from the behemoth she'd seen talking to Shawn earlier.  Lion eyes, she thought idly.  Whiskey colored.  The same shade as her favorite drink, Gentleman Jack Tennessee Whiskey.  Hunter.  He was named appropriately.  Especially when she considered that those eyes tracked her every movement, like she was his prey.  And maybe she was. 

She knew who he was, although they'd never met.  It was kind of impossible to not recognize him after spending years reading about him in Shawn's letters, not to mention watching him on television for just as long.  And here lately, she'd even discussed him at length with…no, she wasn't going to think about that.  She would just settle for finally meeting him. 

If he were impressive on TV, then he was definitely overwhelming in person.  He towered over her standing no less than six foot four if an inch.  She almost had to step back to see him.  But she didn't, craning her neck back instead.  For some perverse reason, she liked being in his personal space, and he seemed to like having her there.  Usually it made people uncomfortable.  But not him.  Damp blonde hair hung down in his face, and across his heavily muscled shoulders.  Actually, there wasn't many places showing on him that didn't have muscles.  And there wasn't much of him that was covered either.  He was still in those little leather trunks he wore into the ring.  He was definitely one of the most charismatic men she'd ever met, that was for sure.  The man was mouth-watering.

And there was a very angry brunette dressed in a black leather bikini and gauntlets, hanging on to his elbow, looking like the poster girl for 'Bound and Gagged Gazette.'  She looked…painful…as well as homicidal.  Chyna.  A major misnomer, she thought.  Nothing delicate about this Alpha female.  How she ran with an Alpha male, she'd never know.  Usually those two genotypes would destroy each other.  Chyna narrowed her eyes at her.  Never one to back down in the face of adversity, or a good ass-kicking, she glared back.  She'd be damned if she'd cower or be the one to look away first.  And she wasn't.  Chyna did, when Shawn spoke up.

"Traitor," he grumbled at Hunter, then turned back to her.  "Nan Elliott meet Hunter Hearst Helmsley.  Or, as he's known around here, Back-Stabbing Asshole…or…Triple H, if you prefer."

"Shawn," Nan admonished, her eyes lighting up brightly in amused mischief.  "Be nice."

"He was.  Believe me."  With a kind smile that absolutely transformed his face, Hunter extended a hand towards her.  And if anything, Chyna's scowl got darker.  He ignored her.  "Nice to meet you, Nan."

She slipped her hand into his, and her arm began to tingle, deep down in the bones, and all the way up into her shoulder.  His hand, like the rest of him from what she could see, was huge.  It almost completely swallowed hers up in it.  But it was warm, and although his palm was rough with calluses, his grip was amazingly gentle.  Yet, she could feel the power and strength just beneath the surface, and she could almost see it shimmering in the air around him.  His eyes glowed with it as he held her gaze.  He was intoxicating, and she was damn close to getting drunk on him.

She had no idea how long he held her hand or how long they stared at one another, but the air around them crackled with electricity.  Without breaking eye contact, Hunter slowly rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand.  A seemingly innocent gesture to be sure.  But not the way this man did it.  Although only his thumb moved across her skin, she felt that intimate caress all over her body.  Involuntarily her lips parted and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them.  Hunter's whiskey eyes caught the minute movement and the smoldering flame behind that enigmatic stare blazed upward into a roaring fire.  Her lids drooped and quickly the fire in her eyes matched his.  He saw it, and his smile widened, growing a shade darker.

A not so subtle jostling from Shawn broke the spell, releasing both of them from its grip.  Immediately Nan's cheeks blazed with heat and Hunter took a step back, a slightly chagrinned look on his face.  But his eyes were blazingly unrepentant.  His movement made him bump up against Chyna, and his look of chagrin instantly smoothed over into cool unconcern.  But he still didn't break Nan's gaze.  And his eyes still glowed with mischief, clearly stating he was sorry for nothing.

Another poke in the ribs by Chyna got his attention and irritation replaced awareness in his eyes.  He shot a glare in her direction, then turned back to Shawn.  "We'll catch up with you later, Shawn."

Hunter slung an arm around Shawn's shoulders and thumped him in the stomach.  He slid his eyes sideways back at Nan.  "Take good care of my boy here.  He seems to have a problem knowing when he's had enough.  Even if it's temporary."  

"Asshole," Shawn cursed with a grin.

Hunter pulled his arm away and shoved at Shawn's head, but without any serious power behind it.  "We'll come see you soon."  He chewed his gum twice before quirking that sideways smile at her again.  "See you around, Nan."

With a hand just barely at the small of Chyna's back he guided the obviously fuming woman away from them, and down the corridor.  Just before they disappeared through an open door, Hunter dropped his hand, glanced back over his shoulder where they stood, and winked.  Then he followed Chyna through the door, and it slammed behind them.

"Whoa," she breathed out.

"Yeah, he has that effect sometimes."

Nan fixed him with a disapproving look.  "You didn't even introduce Chyna.  That was rude." 

"There was a reason for it," he countered, but offered no explanation.

"She hates me." 

"She hates everybody.  It's part of her charm."

Nan snorted then turned to him, accusation in her eyes.  "Take good care of you?"

With a sigh, Shawn nodded.  "Going in for that back surgery in two days."

She breathed in deeply, contemplating the ramifications of that simple statement.  Then she nodded, stepped up, slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her head against his shoulder.  "So we'll just take care of each other."

Shawn returned her embrace, turning his face so his cheek lay on the top of her head.  "Like before," he murmured quietly.

"Yeah, like before," she