Title: Enemies, Blood & Hidden Agendas (pt. 2)
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution: Empress' Private Library and The Wayside Inn  All others ask first.
Rating:  R - for language as usual
Category:  Number 14 (pt. 2) in the Behind the Scenes series.  Follows #13 Man of Steel.
Characters:  Hunter/Nan; Hurricane/Tina; Y2J/Rosie; Red/Ellie Elliott; Randy Orton; Ric Flair; Stacy Kiebler; Todd Grisham; Lita; Victoria; Dixie The Wonder Wiener Dog, mentions of both the Diva Wannabes and other WWE Superstars, and yet even more OFCs as well a Spotlight Inspectors.
Spoilers:  None, unless you're also ten-plus weeks behind like I am!  Takes place on August 10, after RAW of 08/09/04.  Yes, we're skipping some stuff…but flashbacks will make up for it.
Warnings:  Angst, a ridiculous amount of flashbacks, gambling, foul language (surprise - not), violence including weaponry, and more drama than I should probably try to fit into one chapter, but what the hell.
Summary: I hate writing 'em…but you want 'em…so here ya go.  Nan and Hunter both get an ass-kicker of a wake-up call, which prompts a whole passel of angst and drama for them both, as well as for those that love them. 
Author's Notes: Again with the numbering. 
1.  Taking lots of liberty with old timelines, especially those involving Stacy.
2.  For those lovers of both poker and a certain old American TV show set in war time…if you see similarities…well, you're right.  Hell, they say imitation is the greatest form of flattery.  I thought I'd test that theory. 
3.  And speaking of Test….please, remember that I love and miss him too.  However, as I'm keeping with story-lines as much as possible, please keep it in mind that right up until his injury, he was a complete horse's ass to Stacy…and I'm sticking to that.
4.  In case anyone is wondering…the ending to this chapter has been planned for months, to which my Creative Consultant can attest.  So for any similarities to any other stories of writers currently writing on Spotlight, please know it was in no way intentional.
5.  And this note is for Randy Orton fans.  Please don't think for one minute that I dislike him.  I don't.  But trying to get into  the possible 'reasons' for his last minute face-turn is like walking through a minefield.  You never know what the next step will bring.  No one is being blamed for anything.  Aside from the WWE writing staff, of course!
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer: Not mine - theirs.  Some are mine and I'm keeping those.  No money made.  But donations are always accepted!  Not tax deductible though.
I'd just like to state for the record that  never have I had a story de-rail as quickly as this one has done.  Due to the fact that the WWE writers have messed with their scripted story lines to the point where it's now affecting my plots, I've had to write this one with a slightly different bent in mind.  We're moving a little bit closer to scripted vs. non-scripted and me abandoning the story-lines altogether.  But I don't wanna do that if I don't have to.  So right now, I'm walking a tightrope with it.  Plan for things to get weird here on in.  And not to always mesh with what you see on TV.  For that reason, I'm not entirely pleased with this one.  I always try to give my best work.  This chapter, in my opinion folks, falls short of the mark.  And for that, I apologize.
On with the show.  Such as it is.

I don't know where this road
Is going to lead
All I know is where we've been
And what we've been through.
If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth all the wait
It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday - Boys To Men

August 10, 2004 2:21 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

All eyes followed Hunter as he strode quickly from the waiting room.  Some held concern.  Others, pity.  But none held the level of animosity that he obviously expected.  Himself included.  It was weird, Hurricane decided.  Had someone told him two weeks ago that he'd be feeling sympathy towards The Game, he'd have turned them in to JR for substance abuse.  Because nobody on pure air would have said that to him.

However that was before he got to know the man outside of the ring a little better.  Yeah, he was still an evil bastard in the ring.  And so single-mindedly obsessive over that twenty pounds of gold that Hurricane was positive it could qualify for some sort of syndrome.  Maybe even government assistance, too.  It was so sad, that it wasn't even funny. 

The man was arrogant, rude, crude, annoyingly superior, and he really believed that he was the only diamond in the business.  He cheated, schemed, crushed others under his boots, and hurt people because he got off on it. And those were his good points.  Hunter generally made life miserable for anyone he didn't consider his equal in the WWE or those who he could use, or would protect him.  Like Batista.  And Ric Flair. 

But the odd thing was, outside of the ring, when the cameras weren't rolling?  It was almost like he became a different person.  He was…nice.  Sorta.  Funny.  Relaxed.  He still had that arrogant demeanor and swagger, but it was way more understated than whenever Hurricane had had to deal with him in the ring, or backstage, or at the Tower.  It kind of made him wonder.  And it confused the hell out of him.  At first. 

Everyone knew about that week in Florida now.  Hell, it was the juiciest bit of gossip backstage.  Other than Lita's pregnancy, of course.  Everyone was talking about how Triple H, Nan, Kevin Nash, Edge, Karen, and even Shawn-freaking-Michaels had spent a long weekend together at Nash's house in Key Largo.  And no one had died.  Or even got maimed.

Rumor even had it that the Golden Boy of Evolution was pissed about it, too.  Not being included on the beach trip.  Batista and Flair didn't seem to care one way or the other.  Flair had been acting weird since the night Nan had taken off in the first place.  And Batista just continued on the way Batista always did, calmly, quietly, and with a sense of purpose only he seemed to know about. 

But Orton, now, Hurricane mused.  He really acted like his knickers were in a permanent twist.  A guy would have had to be blind not to see how close Hunter and Randy were.  And him being left behind, then only to have the rumor mill inform him that Hunter had hooked back up with the Kliq, didn't sit well with the young superstar.  No one seemed to get just how and why those four guys had been able to spend three seconds alone with each other without bloodshed, not to mention three days.

So he'd asked Edge what the deal was with Hunter's dual-personality gig.  Edge had summed it up pretty succinctly for him.  Business was business. 

Hurricane didn't get it in the beginning.  Now he did.  Yeah, there was still some animosity between Hunter and those not in his inner circle.  But after spending a lot of time around him, due to Tina's presence, Hurricane saw that there was another side to The Cerebral Assassin.  One he kept closely guarded.  And for good reason, Hurricane thought.  If the guys in the back knew…damn, the man would be eaten alive. He kinda liked the man he saw outside the ring.  And the weirdest part was, he was even seeing some of that same man backstage every now and then.  Like at the poker game in San Antonio a couple of weeks ago. 

He decided right then and there, that if Hunter could treat it as just business, and go about his private life like a semi-decent human being, then so could he.  Business was business. 

He wouldn't be the one to serve The Game up on a silver platter.  For two reasons, mainly.  One, because his own sense of honor demanded it.  He knew more now than he did before, and it just didn't feel right.  Let Triple H step over that line in the ring, and that would be a different story.  He just wouldn't pass out any additional ammunition.  And the other reason was Tina.  He really liked Tina.  A lot, almost to the point of being it being scary as hell.  And Lord knew she adored her Uncle Hunter.  No way in hell was he going to do anything to turn her against him.  Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. 

So, he'd keep Triple H's secret-identity of Nice Guy quiet.  He suddenly felt like a double agent.  He grinned.  Cool.

Hurricane noted the fretted look of concern on Mrs. Elliott's face as she tracked Hunter's movements as well.  Tina had been right, he thought to himself.  Her grandmother had just handed him a bag of pretzels and a can of Pepsi when Triple H had made his escape.  And that escape triggered something in Tina. 

Much to his dismay, she burst into sobs, the silent tears no longer held in check.  Hurricane didn't know what to do.  Crying females, as was typical for his own gender, made him uncomfortable. He could usually cope, albeit awkwardly. However, Tina's tears weren't normal.  Not as far as he could understand them.  Yeah, he was worried about Nan too.  And even Hunter, amazingly enough.  But this was different.  This display of emotion was bone deep, and frightening. 

Something else was going on here, beneath the surface.  He had his suspicions on what the real deal was. He didn't have to be a superhero to figure it out.  But Tina hadn't said a word to him.  And he wasn't about to stick his nose in where it didn't belong. 

Immediately, Ellie had her wrapped up tight in her arms.  "Oh, sweetie," the older lady cried too.  "It's gonna be okay.  Hush now.  Everything's gonna be fine."

As Tina continued to sob against her grandmother's shoulder, a shadow cast itself across him.  Hurricane looked up to see Mr. Elliott standing over him.  He couldn't help but bite back a noise of surprise.  For an older gentleman who walked like Walter Brennan from that old TV show "The Real McCoys," Tina's Grandpa sure could move quietly when he chose.

Mr. Elliott looked down at him, his cold dark eyes staring holes through him.  Hurricane fought a shudder, until he saw the look wasn't really cold.  Something thawed behind that gaze, and the younger man could see the sadness, and love, in those dark depths.  As usual when he was feeling out of his element, Hurricane's brain took a comical bent, and he smiled, finding it amusing just how much the older man resembled that Cajun chef Justin Wilson…right down to the red suspenders attached to his blue jeans.

Red returned his grin, almost like he could hear Hurricane's thoughts.  Then his eyes slid over to his granddaughter.  He nodded at Ellie, and she pulled away from the crying young woman.  Red held out a hand.  "Come on, little girl."

Tina lifted tear filled blue eyes to her grandfather.  She slid her hand into his rough palm, and got to her feet.  Her voice was tiny and sounded so young…and lost.  "Where're we going, Grandpa?"

"Nowhere.  Walk with me.  Need to stretch out these old bones."  Red wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her from the waiting room.  Minus his cane, he leaned against his granddaughter.  Red leaned in and spoke softly to her, but Hurricane could still hear him.  "You're not gonna lose your Nettie.  I promise."

Tina nodded and stiffened her spine, wiping at her eyes, and snorting loudly.  Hurricane saw her curl her arm around her grandfather's ample waist and lend some strength to the older man as they walked away. 

"It's hard on her."  Ellie's quiet whisper caught his attention. 

"It's hard on all of us," he added.

"True."  Ellie nodded and looked back at him, fixing him with a piercing look.  "But it's a little different for Tina.  Nan's the only mom that child has ever known."

Hurricane nodded, his suspicions rushing again to the forefront.  "I kind of thought so."

"Don't think so much."  Ellie cautioned.  "Some things are better left in speculation.  Less painful that way.  Don't you think, Shane?"

Hurricane bit his lip, hearing the warning in her tone crystal clear.  "Yes, ma'am.  I do."

"You're good for her."  Ellie smiled gently at him. "You're strong, and you seem to care genuinely about my granddaughter.  Take some advice from an old woman who knows the inner workings of this family a lot better than you do right now."

"And what would that be, Mrs. Elliott?"

She lifted a white eyebrow at him.  "Wait.  And when the fall-out comes, because it will, just be there for her.  She's gonna need someone in her corner."

"But aren't all of you in her corner?"

"Of course we are," she clicked her tongue at him.  "But she won't see it that way.  And I can't say as I'll fault her for that.  Hind-sight is twenty-twenty." 

"And the road to Hell is paved with good intentions," he murmured quietly.

"My point."  Ellie stood up, gathering her purse with her, preparing to move on to someone else in need of the snacks she'd brought for them all.  As she stepped away, she added.  "And Shane?  It's Grandma.  Not Mrs. Elliott."

Hurricane nodded, letting her go, not really knowing how to respond to that.  It was one thing to have suspicions.  It was entirely another to have them confirmed.  Almost confirmed.  In a veiled and totally surreal way.  Now he wasn't even certain if he was on the right track or not.  Great.

But, he thought, his brain jumping tracks yet again, she was right.  Tina needed him in her corner.  About what exactly, he was no longer sure.  Yet, she did need him.  The day at her old apartment had proven that. 

And by God, he vowed, he wasn't gonna let her down. 

~<>~

Seen it before, but not like this
Been there before, but not like this
Never before have I ever
Seen it this bad
She's just a woman
Never Again
Father's a name you haven't earned yet
You're just a child with a temper
Haven't you heard "Don't hit a lady"?
Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure
       Never Again - Nickleback

July 27, 2004 4:56 p.m.
Tina's Apartment – New Haven, CT 

"How close are we to being done?"  Dave called as he carted out a stack of boxes to the waiting rented moving van he'd driven over.

"Tina says just the bedroom is left."  Hurricane answered, passing another couple of pasteboard boxes to the big man.  "Jeez…how much crap can one girl have anyway?"

"It's a chick thing."  Dave shrugged, and loaded the boxes in with the others.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Hunter passed Dave a bottle of water from the cooler in the back of the truck.  "Thanks for coming, man."

Dave took the bottle, uncapped it, and downed over half of it before replying.  "No problem.  Wasn't like I was doing anything important today anyway."  He fixed his friend with a speculative look.  "Everything okay?"

Hunter shook his head, and wished for the fourth time in about an hour that he could have found a hair-tie to pull his hair off his neck.  Damn, but it was hot.  "No.  We…ah…got some bad news at the doctor's office."

"Serious?"

"Could be."

Dave nodded.  "What do you need?"

Hunter grinned.  Leave it to Dave to cut through the bullshit to the heart of the matter.  "Someone to ride-rein on her when I'm not around."

"You got it."

"Better you than me, man."  Hurricane chuckled.

"You got something on your mind, Plasticman?"  Dave grumbled.

"Just what I said.  Something tells me that Nan could kick my ass without breaking a sweat."

Hunter laughed, surprising both of them.  "Especially if she's got anything resembling a stick in her hands."  At their confused looks, he waived it away.  "Never mind.  Long story.  Dave, you didn't happen to load in a wheelchair, did you?"

Dave nodded.  "Yeah, Nan told me to put it in first.  It's a weird lookin' thing too.  Leopard print cushions, a North Carolina State University pennant flag on a pole and a freakin' raccoon's tail hanging off of each of the handles.  It's behind all of this shit."  He waved his hand at the three-quarters full truck.

"Damnit.  I shoulda known."  Hunter swore.  "She's not gonna get away with this."  He turned and trekked back to the sliding patio doors of the ground-floor apartment.

"What was that about?"  Hurricane asked as he watched Hunter stalk back up the hill.

"Damn if I know.  Come on, Captain Crunch…let's head up for another load."

They got inside, just in time to witness a hell of an argument heating up between Hunter and Nan.  They were in the kitchen, Nan leaning heavily on her metal crutches, glaring up at Hunter who was puffed up, red-faced and giving her what for.

"Goddamnit, woman!  I'm not gonna put up with this shit!  You're gonna do exactly as Dr. Ashby told you to do if I have to ship you off to your Dad to make sure you fuckin' do it!  Get me?!"

"Don't you threaten me, Hunter Hearst Helmsley!  I'm not one of your fucking lackeys that you can order around!"  Nan yelled back, just as pissed off as he.  "I've lived with this all of my goddamn life and I know best how to deal with it!"

"No, you don't know best!  If you did, then we wouldn't be dealing with this now at all!  And I'd have known about this a hell of a lot sooner than today!"

Nan yelled something nasty back, but Hurricane turned to Dave and said, "The bedroom, remember?"

"Right behind you."

The two of them left Hunter and Nan to continue their discussion and made their way through the apartment to the bedroom, where they found Tina, packing the last of the boxes she'd carted in there.

"Almost done, Tina?"  Hurricane asked gently, seeing the contemplative look on her face.

She nodded.  "Those are ready to go."  She pointed to the stack of boxes near the foot of the stripped double bed.

"I got 'em."  Dave announced as he squatted down, and lifted the entire stack with one arm.  "Got a free hand.  Anything else?"

"Nope.  None of the furniture is mine.  Thank God," she breathed quietly, as she got down on her knees, fishing for something under the bed.

"Okay…I'll be back in a few."  He turned to Hurricane.  "Make sure those two don't kill each other."

"Will do."  Hurricane answered absently as Dave left the room.  "Need any help?"

"Nuh-uh."  Tina grunted from halfway under the bed, straining for something.  "I got it.  What're they fighting about?"

"No idea."  He responded, his eyes trained on the wiggling derriere protruding from under the bed-frame.  As she reached and strained, the wiggling increased, and Hurricane groaned.

She heard it.  "You okay?"

"Uh…fine."

"Ha!  Got it!"  She yelled triumphantly, and the wiggling started up again, this time in reverse, as she shimmied out from under the bed, dragging a fire-resistant lock box with her.  Still lying on the floor, she rolled over, and looked up at him.  "You sure you're okay?  You look flushed."

Hurricane just stared down at her, his mouth suddenly going dry. Stray wisps of honey blond hair had escaped her ponytail, and clung to her face, damp with sweat.  The swelling had gone down on her black eye some, but it was still spectacular.  Her electric blue belly-shirt that read "Dance Cavalcade, Las Vegas Nevada, 2000" in sparkly silver letters had ridden up and down at the same time, so that the white lace from her bra was showing.  It gave him an excellent view of the tanned swells of her breasts that had been hidden the night before due to borrowed clothing.  But he couldn't take his eyes from her legs.  Tight black jogging shorts barely covered tanned thighs, and rode low on slender hips.  He knew from the night before that her legs were long and well shaped, but this was ridiculous.  He'd never been a leg man before, but now…

She lay there, staring at him, licking her lips, looking like that, and she wanted to know if he was okay.  Yeah.  Right. 

"Shane?"

Her quizzical calling of his name snapped him out of it.  He reached down, took the hand that wasn't clutching the lock box, and pulled her to her feet…and right up against him.  He wrapped his arms around her, and she dropped the lock box on the bed, her hands going to his waist.

"Tell me no, now."

She just shook her head, her blue eyes glittering.

"Tell me, and I won't…."

"Shane," she sighed.  "Shut up and kiss me."

Hurricane grinned.  "Yes, ma'am."

Curving a hand around her jaw, he threaded his fingers into her ponytail, and tilted her head to just the right angle.  Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, savoring that sweet point of contact as he kissed her the way he'd wanted to since he'd laid eyes on her the night before.  She tasted sweet and complex, like a rich wine flowing warm and liquid over his lips.

Hurricane wrapped his fingers around the delicate curve of her neck and cradled the back of her head while her light, fragrant hair spilled over his arm.  Sinking deeper into her kiss, his eyes slid closed, too, his senses already bombarded on every level.  He needed to take his time.  Concentrate.  Appreciate every moment she allowed him to hold her this way.

And damn but he was appreciative.

He smoothed his hands down her arms, dragging her belly shirt a little farther off her shoulders as he did.  Coaxed by the thought of seeing even more hints of Tina's bare skin, he pried his eyes back open.  The lacy white bra strap drooped to one side.  Her shirt askew, the tops of her tanned breasts now exposed, she looked like pure fantasy.

Only he could reach out and touch.  Taste.  Expose even more.  He banded his arms around her, dragged her closer to kiss her, feel her.  Let her feel him.

"Tina," he breathed her name over her mouth, before slipping in between those sweet honeyed lips to drink more deeply.

But he jumped back like he'd been shot when he heard a voice call out, "Hunter, get the hose!"

Tina sprang away from him, scrambling for the lock box on the bed, her cheeks a flaming red.

"And you, missy," Nan chastised softly, as she made her way into the room, her gait awkward due to the crutches.  "Fix your shirt before your Uncle Hunter gets in here and takes Hurricane apart."

"Uhm…I'll, uh…wait out by the truck…with Batista."  Hurricane mumbled as he made a hasty path for the door.

"Yeah, you do that."  Nan called after him.

Hurricane hurried down the hall, stopping short as he rounded the corner, seeing Hunter standing there, fixing him with a dark look.  "Am I gonna need to beat you with it?"

Hurricane blinked at him.  "With what?"

"The hose."

"I…uh…well, see?  Erm…"

"Save it."  Hunter cut him off.  "Remember what I said I'd do to you if you hurt her?"

The younger man stiffened, all traces of awkwardness gone.  "Yeah."

"Keep on remembering it and you and I will be just fine."

"What about Nan?"

Hunter grinned malevolently.  "Just don't make out with her niece in front of her and you might live out the rest of the week."

"Stop threatening to kill him, Uncle Hunter."  Tina admonished with a grin as she and Nan came into the living room.  "I like him."

"And besides, I wanna do it."  Nan teased, winking at the young man.  She turned back to Tina.  "Ready to go, Squirt?"

"Yeah," Tina swallowed hard.  "Let's get the hell outta Dodge."

"Where's your car?"

"In Pittsburgh where it crapped out."

"No.  Your car.  Not the rattletrap you drove from Philly."  At Tina's hesitation, she cursed.  "Sonofabitch!"

"I can drive her to your house."  Hurricane volunteered, before Nan could get a roll going.

"Are we done yet?"  Dave called from the sliding doors.

Hunter nodded.  "Let's go then."

At that moment, the front door opened, and Chip Davis strolled in, not a care in the world.

"Oh good!"  Dave crowed, an evil grin spreading across his face.  "I was hoping to add theft, endangerment to the community, and assault to my list of things I did today!"

"You too?"  Nan matched his grin.

Hurricane was almost disappointed.  Dishwater brown hair hung limply over his shoulders.  He had a weasel-like face, with a pointed chin.  Weak.  Soft.  And contemptible.  Thin of frame and about the same height as Tina, several inches shorter than himself, he probably outweighed Davis by about fifty pounds.  Of muscle alone.  Short-man syndrome…always having to prove he wasn't compensating for something, Hurricane surmised.

Chip stopped short at the sight of the five of them in his living room.  His eyes quickly scanned the almost empty apartment.  Davis may have been a lot of things, but stupid normally wasn't one of them.  He pasted on his most charming snake-oil salesman smile.  "Tina, honey, I've been so worried!  Are you okay?"

"Damn, but that fool's got balls," Hurricane murmured.

"Not for long."  Hunter growled, as he took a step forward.

"Uncle Hunter.  No," Tina voiced quietly.  She walked over to him, with Nan right behind her.  Tina handed him a set of keys.  "Goodbye, Chip."

Chip blinked at her, the smile never wavering, but the look in his blue eyes went completely dead and cold.  "What are you talking about, honey?  You're leaving me?  No.  No…come on, sweetheart, we can work this out."

But Tina didn't answer, and turned her back on him, walking back towards where Hurricane and Hunter stood.  It was a very classy maneuver.  But also very stupid.

"You're not going anywhere, you fucking bitch!"  Chip snarled, lunging for her.

He never made it.

Hunter and Hurricane both dove for Tina, pulling her out of his reach.  But Chip had forgotten that Nan was behind him.  She lifted both arms, dropping the crutches, and buried her fingers into his shoulder-length brown hair.  Balancing on one foot, she managed to sling him by the hair as hard as she could up against the wall, and still keep her balance by clutching at a bookcase.  His head slammed into the plaster.  It made a lovely cracking sound, but whether it was his head or the plaster cracking, Hurricane couldn't tell.  And he didn't particularly care.

Hunter shoved Tina at him, then rushed up, and planted a beefy forearm against the young man's neck, pinning him to the wall.  He whispered something low and menacing in his ear.  No one but Chip could hear what Hunter was saying, but the message was still received loud and clear.  Especially when an acrid odor filled the apartment and a dark patch of wetness spread across the front of his jeans.

With a snarl of disgust, Hunter shoved himself away from the young man, pausing only long enough to thump his head sharply against the wall again.  Without a word, he picked up the crutches Nan had dropped and tossed them towards the sliding glass doors.  Dave caught them with a grin. 

Then Hunter scooped up Nan in his arms.  "Not one word.  Let's go."

Nan kept silent, knowing when not to prod at Hunter's temper.  Hurricane wrapped an arm around Tina, really wanting to pound the living shit out of Chip.  His thoughts must have been evident on his face.

"He's not worth your going to jail over.  And he can't hurt me anymore," she spoke to him quietly, as Hunter walked past them with Nan in his arms.

A sound from behind them stopped Hurricane's response, as a brass baseball trophy hurtled past them, and luckily sailed right past Hunter and Nan as well.  Hurricane turned in time to see a humiliated, and angry beyond reason, Davis reaching back to sling another trophy at the departing couple.  Dave moved to intercept as Hunter curled over Nan, shielding her from any other projectiles.  Hurricane snarled, and took two steps toward the insane man now throwing shit at them. 

But all movement stopped when the air was filled with the very distinct clicking sound of a hammer being cocked.  Hurricane turned wide eyes to see Tina standing, feet braced apart, both hands wrapped around the butt of a Tarus Ultra Lite.22 magnum revolver.  Now, he wasn't a gun expert.  But he knew never to mess with anyone holding one.  It looked like she knew exactly what she was doing, and the look in her eyes said she'd use it, too.

Her voice wavered, when she spoke.  But the gun didn't.  "You can call me names.  You can treat me like shit.  You can beat me up.  But I warned you.  You ever go after my family and it would be the last mistake you ever made, you asshole."

No one moved for a moment, least of all Davis.  His eyes were wide and scared.  Really scared.  Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun had a tendency to do that to you.  Hurricane moved slowly as not to startle her.  "Give me the gun, Tina."

"No.  It's mine."

"Okay, then at least put it back in the box?"

"No."  She argued.  "Don't wanna."

"You don't want to do this."

"Oh yes the hell I do.  In fact, nothing would give me greater pleasure."

Ironically enough, Hurricane could understand that.  "Okay.  So you do.  But what happens when you shoot him?  You'll go to jail, and I'll still be on the road.  How are we supposed to go out next week, if you're locked up, huh?"

"Jerk."  Tina's lips curled up in a tentative smile.  "Won't even let me kill a man.  How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"

Hurricane grinned.  Then it faded.  "By giving me the gun."

She flicked her eyes to him, then back again at Chip.  "He hurt me," she murmured softly.  "He wasn't supposed to do that."

"I know.  I know he did, angel."  Hurricane whispered.  "But you said it yourself.  He can't hurt you anymore."

"But he'll call the police…and it'll be my fault anyway.  May as well kill him.  If I'm gonna go to jail, it may as well be for doing something good."

"He won't call the police."  Nan spoke softly from the shelter of Hunter's arms.  "He knows damn good and well that your Uncle Brun is a cop back home.  And so is your cousin Kenny here in Connecticut.  So I think it's pretty safe to say he'll just cut his losses and keep quiet."  Nan fixed Chip with a cold glare.  "Won't you Davis?"

Chip just nodded, his head bobbling absurdly on his shoulders.

"Give Hurricane the gun, Squirt."  Hunter added gently.

"Okay, fine!"  She sighed, releasing the hammer, and switching the safety on.  Then she turned it around and handed it butt first to Hurricane. 

He took it from her and easily laid it back in the lock box, snapping the lid shut.  He turned back to Tina only to see her eyes lit up.  And he could swear he saw the devil dancing behind them.

"Hey, what's up wit dat?"  He frowned at her.  "You could have killed him."

She grinned up at him.  "Only if he can die from blanks.  Lotsa noise.  No holes."

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in.  "Woman, you scared the shit outta me!"

"Not you," Tina laughed, pointing at Chip.  "Him!"

All the rest, except for Chip, joined in the laughter.  "God, I love that kid!"  Nan chuckled evilly as Hunter nodded his agreement.

"She's a lot like you."

"More than you can possibly imagine."  Nan agreed.

"You almost killed me, and now you're laughing about it?!  Get outta my house!  Every last goddamn one of you insane motherfuckers!"  Chip screamed, his voice going up in pitch, and his face flushing a deep red.

"Ya know, I've had all of your mouth today that I can stand," Hurricane growled.  He took a final step forward and slammed his fist into Chip's jaw.  The smaller man staggered backwards, crashed into the wall again, and slid down it to lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Hurricane stalked back over to Tina, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and together they joined Hunter, Nan and Dave.

"Helms, you just punched out an unarmed, smaller, weaker, piss and probably shit covered man.  How do you feel about that?"  Hunter asked with a calculating look in his eyes.

"Damn good," he answered without hesitation.

Hunter grinned.  "Welcome to the family."

"Where'd you get the gun?"  Hurricane asked as they headed for the exit.

"Nettie.  It was a graduation present."  Tina answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Then she smiled and held up her wrist where a gold charm bracelet dangled.  "Uncle Hunter gave me this."

Hurricane looked at it.  "A rose, a shoe, and a hammer?"

"Uh-huh."  She nodded, grinning.  "The rose is Nettie, and the ballet slipper is me, and the hammer…."

"Is Hunter.  It figures."  Hurricane laughed as they walked outside.

"Come on, big man."  Hunter chuckled, shaking his head.  "We're done here."

"What?"  Dave called after them.  He looked around forlorn.  "No leftovers?  Well, shit."

"By the smell in here, I think we can safely say Davis already covered that."  Nan grinned as they all left the apartment. 

~<>~

Guess there are times when we all need to share a little pain
And ironing out the rough spots
Is the hardest part when memories remain
And it’s times like these when we all need to hear the radio
`cause from the lips of some old singer
We can share the troubles we already know
       Sad Songs - Elton John

August 10, 2004 2:37 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

She hated this – the skulking around hospitals, waiting for news on her friends.  She'd done far too much of it in her time in the business.  Especially here lately.  Her eyes strayed back to where Hunter had bolted from the room a little while ago, as she nibbled absently at the strawberry licorice that Nan's mother had given to her.  The doorway was still empty, and the waiting room seemed to grow a little dimmer, more glum since his exit. 

Okay, so maybe a collective sigh of relief had gone up too when he stalked from the room.  But it was a lot like hiding in a dark closet.  The monster was still out there; you just couldn't see it.  Didn't make it any less frightening.  And while you may have been hiding with the school bully, and didn't like him much, there was still a certain comfort in his presence.  The two of you against the monster lurking beyond the closed door.

Stacy shook her head, unbelieving the ridiculously speculative direction that her thoughts had taken.  Likening Hunter to a school-bully wasn't so far fetched, but hiding in closets?  She looked down at the soda and sticky treat in her hands.  Too much sugar and caffeine.  And way too much stress.  Folding the top of the baggie, she slid it down into her purse, and set the diet soda on the little table beside her seat.

She really wanted to talk to him.  Tell him it would be okay.  That everything would work out fine.  Yeah, and the sun would come out tomorrow.  All that clichéd crap.  Well, it wasn't crap exactly.  She believed it.  Nan's mom believed it.  But Stacy was beginning to think they were in the minority. 

She just didn't like seeing her friends hurting.  She wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but she and Hunter had become friends back around the time his marriage to Steph fell apart.  The same time his relationship with Nan was heating up.  Although she didn't know it at the time. 

Nan had been dating Kane, and Hunter was still married to Stephanie, believing her to be pregnant with his child.  She and Nan had hit it off immediately upon their first meeting.  But she'd had no idea that Hunter had stomped all over Nan's heart that night…then she almost died…was unconscious for three days.  God, that had been a horrible week.  She'd made it, and so had their friendship.  But it had almost derailed right at the very beginning.

Stacy's cheeks reddened remembering what had happened the night Hunter had "come on" to her in the ring.  She'd gotten herself into quite a pickle with everyone backstage thinking that she was screwing Vince.  And somehow, she'd managed to land herself a position as Hunter's valet, short lived at it was.  He'd told Vince off in the ring that night, and said the most…enticing…things to her and on national television no less!  It wasn't so much what he said, but more of how he'd said it.  She could still hear it in her head.

Look at her Vince. Look how she's looking at me. Do you think that Stacy wouldn't want a young stud who would pay close attention to every detail of her young body, and who could keep her satisfied all night long? Or...would she want a wrinkled up old bastard with bad breath and a bad toupee?  And Stacy, you can't make me come by just telling me to.            

The growl in his voice, the look in his eyes, and she'd almost jumped at the chance to go with him.  She'd told herself that it was just to get away from Vince.  But even she knew she'd been partially lying to herself. 

Hunter was a very sexy man.  Not necessarily attractive.  No, his face was far too harsh for that.  But he did exude an animal magnetism that was damn near impossible to ignore when he turned it on a girl.  And it was heady as sin on a plate too.  Sex on a stick.  Not that that was a bad thing, either.  So yeah, she was more than a little excited, and a lot nervous to be his valet.  Especially after what he'd said to her. 

Not wanting to be kept in the dark about what her duties were to have been with the infamously temperamental, new undisputed Heavyweight Champion, and soon-to-be-ex-son-in-law of Vince McMahon, Stacy had pranced herself right into his locker room and demanded to know the deal.  Not even bothering to knock, she'd surprised the hell out of him too.  He'd been sitting in there, reading the latest issue of WWF Magazine, the one with The Rock and Hulk Hogan on the cover, and he was laughing.  Only later did it register to her that he'd been laughing with someone.

Stacy hadn't even seen her sitting there.  But when Hunter had pointed behind her, Stacy turned to see Nan curled up on the couch, grinning at her.  The redhead had laughed when Stacy's mouth dropped open, stunned to see her in The Game's dressing room.  After Hunter's destruction of the wedding on RAW, it was common knowledge that Hunter and Steph were divorcing.  And they all knew that Hunter was already seeing someone else.  But no one was talking about who exactly had caught the Game's interest.  Jericho had seemed to know, but he wasn't talking.  Kurt Angle was too busy trying to console Steph over the demise of her marriage to spread any juicy backstage gossip. 

And everybody knew that Kane had dumped Nan, because he'd done it so very publicly.  He'd screamed at her and had said the vilest things to her friend.  Stacy had wanted to rip him apart.  A lot of them did, but he was Kane.  No one voluntarily went after the Big Red Machine.  Nan hadn't been seen backstage since that night.  And rumors were flying rampant about it too.

Stacy had seen her, though.  She'd shared a room with her in the hotel that night, with Nan hardly able to walk due to the thick bandages on her knees.  But she'd slipped out the next morning before Stacy woke and she'd not seen her since.  Talked to her on the phone, yeah.  But not an actual face to face.

That night in Hunter's dressing room had been the first time she'd seen her friend in almost five weeks.  So, saying she was surprised was a pathetic understatement.  Stupefied was a better word.  And Stacy was absolutely sure she looked like a carp when Nan had uncurled herself from the couch where she'd been sitting.  Hunter held his hand out to her.  Nan strolled leisurely over to where he straddled the bench, and sat down on the space of bench between his thighs, nestling cozily up against his chest.  Hunter grinned up at Stacy as he wrapped both arms around Nan, laced his fingers through hers, and dropped his chin down onto her shoulder.

It all made sense now.  The infamous kiss everyone was talking about backstage had been between Hunter and Nan.  Her friend's heart had been broken the night they first met by Hunter.  Triple H's mystery woman was Nan.  Kane had dumped Nan because of Hunter.  She felt so stupid.  Mainly because she'd not seen it before.  That and she'd all but been ready to jump him to get away from Vince. 

But that's when something clicked for Stacy.  Hunter's and Steph's divorce wasn't final.  Wouldn't be for months, probably.  So technically, Hunter was still a married man.  One Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley would take great delight in slapping with charges of adultery.  She'd have no compunctions against dragging their divorce through the mud, through the courts and right into the papers, effectively making both Hunter and Nan miserable for years to come. 

Stacy realized quickly that she was the first person that they'd told.  She was the only one who knew for certain that they were a couple.  Oh yeah, everyone was speculating, but she knew.  They trusted her enough to tell her.  They trusted her.  A heavy thought, that. 

Hunter explained then that he was the reason Nan hadn't told her friend what was going on.  He'd kept her away from backstage, visited her in North Carolina between shows, and generally was waiting Stephanie out.  At least until she signed the separation papers, indicating she wouldn't contest the divorce.  But with Stacy being appointed as his valet, their time to keep quiet was up.  She had to know.  There was no way, with Stacy as Hunter's valet, could they keep it from her.  And Nan didn't want to even try anymore.  They were hoping that she'd keep their secret, at least until Steph signed the papers, which she was supposed to do that night.  Stacy had readily agreed, thrilled with their news, genuinely happy for both of them.  And Hunter had repaid her by getting her away from Vince.  Just like he'd said he would. 

A small sound snapped Stacy out of the past, and she looked up just in time to see Jericho go out of the room, following the same path that Hunter had taken.  Stacy looked around to Randy, who was still on the telephone.  Well, enough was enough.

With a grim set to her lips, Stacy pushed up off the orange plastic chair and headed right towards the youngest member of Evolution.  He didn't see her at first.  So she walked around so that she stood right in his line of vision, crossed her arms over her chest, extended one leg out to the side, and impatiently tapped her foot until he looked up.

"Hang on a sec," he spoke to the person on the other end, then palmed the receiver, lowering it to slap it lightly against his leg.  He fixed her with an appreciative, cocky grin.  "S'up Legs?  What can I, uh," he ran his eyes up and down her frame suggestively, licking his lips. "do for you?"

"You can get off the phone, for starters."  She frowned at him.  "Does Rebecca know you talk to other women like that?  Something tells me she wouldn't like that too much."

Immediately Randy's entire demeanor changed.  His cocky attitude bled away and he became much more approachable, yet almost panicked somehow.  "How do you know about Rebecca?  You've not told anyone have you?  Not Nan or, God please, Stacy, you've not said anything to Hunter have you?  Have you??"

Stacy shrugged unconcernedly.  "You know how backstage gossip is.  And Killer?  The Divas hear it all." Her cinnamon eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.  "Why don't you want anyone to know about her?  You ashamed of her or something?"

"No!"  Randy denied immediately.  "No…it's just that…well, see..." He sighed deeply.  "She doesn't like Hunter.  Or Naitch.  Or even Dave, I think."

"Well I don't like Ric either.  Point in Rebecca's favor.  Dave's not so bad, though."

"She says Evolution is a bad influence on me.  That they're holding me back."

"Are they?"  Stacy challenged.

Randy's brows furrowed.  "I…I…I'm not sure."

"When you figure it out, let me know, 'kay?  In the mean time, say goodbye and get off the phone.  You're not the only one who needs to use it, ya know."

Still somewhat dumbstruck that she knew of his secret girlfriend, Randy lifted the receiver back to his ear.  He started to speak, and then clamed up when he saw the leggy blonde wasn't leaving.  "You mind?"

Stacy lifted an eyebrow, and grinned.  "Not at all."

Flashing her a disgusted grimace, he spoke softly, but not enough to keep her from hearing him.  "Sorry, baby, but I gotta go.  I don't know what time I'll be home.  Until Hunter tells me I can leave, I guess. Yeah.  No, just a pushy…" he stared right at Stacy.  "…woman who's bugging me to let her use the phone.  Yeah.  I promise.  Just as soon as I leave.  Love you too.  See you soon.  Bye."

Randy hung the receiver back on its cradle, but still blocked Stacy's path to it.  "You won't say anything to Triple H, will you Legs?"

Stacy frowned at him, trying to figure out what he was so uptight about.  "Why would Hunter care if you had a girlfriend?  I mean really, it's not like he's out playing the field.  Nan goes with him to just about all of the events.  Look around you, Killer.  Who do you think we're all waiting to hear from?"

Randy breathed in deeply, and looked down at the tiled floor.  "You just don't get it, Stacy.  Game's rules.  That's what Evolution follows.  He does what he wants and we do what we're told."  He looked back up at her, his expression grim.  "So yeah, it's okay that Nan goes with him wherever…whenever.  She probably won't defy him either."

"If you think that, then you're seriously deluded,"  Stacy snorted.

But Randy kept on.  "But it's different for me."

"How?"

Randy started ticking a list off on his fingers.  "They tell me how to walk, how to talk, what to eat.  What not to eat.  Who to be friends with, who not to. How to spend my money, and how not to. What to wear, what to think, hell!  They even tell me how to freakin' believe!" 

"In what?"

"Anything.  Everything," he retorted bitterly.  "And women?  My God, Naitch all but throws a different girl at me every single night.  Not that that's a bad thing, mind you," he added with a wry grin.  "But I like to pick my own.  Ya know?"

Actually, she did, having served time with two overbearing domineering males herself, in Test and Stiener.  But she wasn't gonna tell him that.  "That how you met Rebecca?"

He smiled, genuinely, and gently at the sound of her name.  "Yeah.  Sorta."  But the smile faded and he waived his hand in the air.  "But that's not the point.  Point is, Hunter would see Rebecca as a threat."

She was beginning to see where he was headed with his line of thinking, and she wasn't sure she liked it either.  "How do you figure that?"

"A decision he didn't sanction.  One made without his knowledge or blessing. He'd do anything he could to destroy what we have.  Come on, Legs. You know how he is."

Stacy couldn't believe what she was hearing.  "Yeah.  I do.  And better than you, apparently."

"Don't bank on it."

"Too late.  I've known him longer than you have, Killer.  There's a lot more than murder, mayhem, scheming, and cheating going on behind those eyes.  You may have him pegged as far as business goes.  But I'll tell ya, you obviously don't know dick about him personally.  Sad."  She unfolded her arms holding them up in surrender.  "But okay, fine.  I won't say anything about your lady love."

"Now who's being delusional?"  Randy scoffed.  "There is nothing to that man that's not about business.  Business he controls.  Every aspect.  You've got no idea what it's like.  I've got three other people telling me how to live my life on a daily basis.  My life.  Mine.  And it's all for my own good."  He made those quotation marks in the air with his fingers, which annoyed Stacy to no end.  "Oh, yeah, I'm the future of the business.  But what if …just what if…the future is now, Stace?  Huh?  What if that future is this Sunday at Summer Slam?  What then?"

"Then you're in a hell of jam," Stacy answered, her eyes wide.  "Randy, think very carefully about what you're saying.  Do you really expect him to be happy for you, should you just happen to beat Benoit?  You'll be painting a bulls-eye right on you.  For him and for everyone else in the locker room.  He'll turn on you."

Randy shook his head, denial dancing across his face.  "No.  No, I don't think so. He hand chose me, Stace.  I'm the one who he picked to take his place at the head of the table."

"Yeah, when he was done," she answered earnestly.

"He'll be proud of me.  They'll back me.  You'll see.  Evolution will still be on top.  And they'll all see that the future is now."  He declared fervently, almost willing her to agree with him.

She could see he wasn't in any frame of mind to hear her.  He'd already contradicted himself too many times.  "So what are you gonna do?"

Randy's eyes went icy, and he gritted his teeth with a fierce determination.  "Win."

She sighed, watching him walk away, back into the waiting room.  She wasn't surprised to see him take a seat as far away from everyone else as he could, his mind obviously elsewhere.  She pondered fleetingly if he knew just how big a fall he'd just set himself up for.

With a heavy heart, now more worried than she was before, she picked up the receiver and punched in a familiar number, and the corresponding credit card number to pay for the call.  It rang about one and a half times before being answered.

"Talk to me."

"Hey," she whispered, surprised at how sad she sounded.  "Just checking in as requested."

"Any word yet?"

"No.  And morale is beginning to break down.  Hunter took off for God knows where.  Jericho did the same.  Tina and her granddad just left together with Tina in tears.  It's not looking real positive over here right now," she sighed heavily.

"And…."

"And…what?"

"What else happened to make you sound like that?"

She debated for a moment on telling him what just transpired between The Legend Killer and herself.  "I just had a very enlightening chat with one Mr. Orton."

"You did, huh," he snorted on the other end of the phone.  "Bet that took all of point five seconds."

Stacy suppressed a giggle.  "Well, it took a little longer than that.  But it was decidedly weird."  She proceeded to fill him in on everything the two had talked about, then waited for his response.

He was silent for a moment then gave a low whistle.  "Damn, boy does know how to stir up a hornet's nest now doesn't he?"

"Apparently," she sighed a little dejected.

"Want me to come down there?  It won't take me long."

"No," she sighed again.  "I'll be okay.  I just hate the waiting part, and I want to hear something before I leave."

"I know.  Anything I can do from my end?"

"Yeah," she nodded at the phone, wishing she could see his face.  "Could you call Shawn and tell him what's happened?  And Kevin too?  They'll wanna know.  I doubt Hunter's thought of it."

"You want me to call the Kliq?  For Triple H?  Have you lost your mind, woman?  Nash doesn't even know me."

"So have Shawn call him.  And I'm not asking you to do this for Hunter, but for Nan."

He sighed heavily.  "Point taken.  Sorry.  I'll let 'em know."

Footsteps caught her attention and she saw Tina and her grandfather coming back down the hall towards her.  "I gotta go.  Tina's coming back."

"Okay…give 'em all my best…H too, if you have to.  Love you."

"Love you, too.  Bye."  She gently replaced the receiver, and muttered quietly under her breath, "Damnit, Nan.  You've got to come out of this.  You still owe me a fifty bucks from that damn poker game." 

As the Elliotts walked past her, Stacy fell into step behind them, taking her place back with the others, to begin the waiting process all over again.   

~<>~

And I saddled up my horse
And I ride into the city
I make a lot of noise
Cause the girls
They are so pretty
Riding up and down Broadway
On my old stud Leroy
       Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy - Big & Rich

August 2, 2004 7:15 p.m.
Sports Complex - San Antonio, TX 

"And the girls say…" Nan called out.

"Save a horse; ride a cowboy!"  Tina answered giggling.

"Everybody says…"  Nan laughed continuing the song.

Rosie answered the refrain this time.  "Save a horse; ride a cowboy!" 

Stacy put both hands in the air palms up and pushed.  "What?  What?"

Victoria answered, "Save a horse; ride a cowboy!"

Nan called again, "Everybody says…"

All of the women present sang out loudly, "Save a horse; ride a cowboy!"

Nan wiped at her eyes and leaned in to Stacy, whispering loud enough for the others to hear, "Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

Stacy grinned, answering, "I think so Brain, but, me and Pippy Longstocking?  I mean, what would the children look like?"

Tina laughed, and tossed down her cards.  "What have you two been smoking?!"

"And why aren't you sharing?"  Rosie added drolly.

"Are we playing cards here tonight or what?"  Dave groused, trying not to let them see exactly how much he was enjoying himself.

"Yeah, ladies, let's clean it up.  Dave got the short straw on guard duty tonight."  Nan grinned at him.

Rosie smiled at the big man apologetically.  "Sorry, Dave.  I know it's gotta be hard being the only guy at an all hen poker game."

Stacy snorted under her breath.  "Yeah, hard is exactly the word I was thinking of too."

"Quit it, Buffy.  You're gonna get me into trouble."  Nan smothered a laugh. 

"Faith, you don't need my help to do that."  The vivacious blonde grinned at her friend.

"Yeah, you do  just fine on your own."  Victoria laughed.

"Point taken.  Tina?"

Tina picked up the deck and dealt out another round of cards to everyone.  "There's a possible straight.  Pair of threes.  Another queen.  I don't know.  And garbage for the dealer.  Pair of queens bet.  Dave?

"Uh…wait a minute.  What's everybody got?"  Dave asked, skimming his eyes across the cards lying face up in front of each of the women.

Rosie affected a horrible Spanish accent.  "Ju like to look at my hold card, gringo?"

"Very funny.  Don't rush me," he rumbled, taking the game more seriously than any of them.

Stacy sighed, blowing her hair out of her face.  "Would you like to make a bet before the show goes into overtime?"

"But it doesn't start for two hours yet."  Tina commented.

"That's her point, Squirt."  Nan answered with a smile.

Dave tossed in a blue chip.  "Okay.  I'll check to the possible straight."

Stacy did the same.  "Check along."

"I'm out."  Tina laid her cards down.

"I'm light five."  Nan announced tossing in the required chip and then another to meet the raise.

"El foldo."  Stacy announced turning her cards over as well.

"What the hell, I'm losing anyway.  May as well make it spectacular.  I'm in."  Victoria groused as she pitched a chip at the growing pile.

"All right," Dave answered, tossing in two chips.  "I'll see your five and raise you five more.  Call."

"I'm in.  Call."  Rosie threw in another chip.

"Me too."  Nan tossed a red chip into the pile, then tapped her face cards before turning over the hold card.  "Threes and nines.  Beat that."

"Not so fast, Diamond Jane."  Victoria answered, turning over her card, revealing three fours.

Dave turned to Rosie.  "Did you hit the straight?"

"Did I hit the straight?  Ha!"  Rosie answered, turning over her cards one at a time.  "Two, three, four, five…nine."

Dave grinned, and flipped over his hold card.  "My queens held up.  Three of a kind, Queens high, ladies.  Read 'em and weep."

Tina rolled her eyes.  "How cliché can you get?"

"Shit."  Victoria frowned as Dave raked the chips towards him.

Rosie sighed and pulled another bill from her wallet, passing it over.  "Chris is gonna kill me.  Sell me another stack, Tina." 

"Hold it.  Everybody freeze."  Stacy spoke up.

"What's up, Stace?" Nan asked.

"One of the sandwiches just moved." 

An hour later…  

"Okay, moving right along now,"  Nan announced, shuffling the cards.  "Dealer's choice.  Seven-card stud.  Tina, you're the psychology major.  What's the psychiatric basis for gambling?"

"Sex."

"Why?"  Rosie asked, grinning.

"I dunno," she shrugged, moving her cards around in her hand.  "They tell me to say it.  Sex is  why we drink.  Sex is why we gamble.  Sex is why we give birth."

"Thank you doctor,"  Nan grinned.

"I'm taking a five-dollar chip.  That was a house call."  Tina announced, removing a blue chip from Nan's medium sized pile.

"Are you guys gonna play cards or chew the fat?"  Stacy groused, chunking her cards at the center.  "I fold."

"If I wanna chew the fat, I'll eat a sandwich," Dave murmured.

"Tina, bet the bullet," Nan commented.

"Okay!  I'll bet a buck."

Dave chuckled.  "Big spender."

Rosie looked around at them all.  "Should we wake her?"

Nan grinned.  "Nah, let her sleep."

A commotion out side of the open door got their attention as the Diva Wannabes strolled past.  Most of them looked in curiously at the players of the card game, Christy Hemme being among them.  Christy slowed her steps and locked eyes with Nan.  Before anything could come of it, Coach jostled her ahead and flashed an apologetic grin at The Game's girlfriend.

Nan leaned in to Stacy.  "That one dies."

Stacy nodded.  "Agreed."

Lita walked into the room, looking around.  "Vic!"

Victoria bolted upright, out of a deep sleep.  "Where?!"

Lita laughed.  "You're on in five, girl.  Get the led out."

Victoria nodded sleepily, then looked down at her cards.  "Hey, I've got a full house!"

Nan laughed.  "That was a half-hour ago, Vic."

"Shit!"  Victoria shot to her feet, and bolted for the door. 

A half-hour later… 

"But he cheated!  Bastard!  Sorry, Nan,"  Lita added as an afterthought.

Nan placed a warning hand on Tina's arm when she saw the fire flashing behind her eyes.  "He had his reasons."

"Do you defend everything he does?"  Lita frowned at the other redhead.

"Only when I think his actions deserve defense.  And since when do you give a shit about what happens to William Regal?"

"I don't."  Lita explained.  "It's just…he was always nice to me."

"Yeah, well, actions can be deceiving.  He always used to be nice to me too."  Nan grumbled, her face hard.

"He's nicer than Kane," Lita grumbled back.

"You could do worse than Kane."  Nan retorted, stunning them all.

"Oh, really?"  Lita sneered.  "Like who?  Give me an example."

"Test.  Or Stiener."  Stacy answered quietly. 

Nan leaned over and whispered something softly in Stacy's ear, her arm around her shoulders.  Stacy flashed a smile at her friend, nodding.

Silence reigned as they all looked away for a moment.  They all knew what she was talking about. Test and Stiener had abused her for months and no one had done anything to help her.  Not until Mick Foley had intervened.

But the card play continued.  Then Tina spoke up, her eyes on the monitor.  "Lots of blood there.  Looks like he's gonna need stitches."

Rosie sighed, nodding.  "Just another scar to add to his already impressive collection, too.  Is Hunter like that, Nan?  I know Chris is.  He shows them off like trophies."

"Ante up."  Nan shrugged, laying a chip in the center of the table.  "Not really.  Sometimes.  He doesn't talk about his injuries much.

Stacy added her chip to Nan's.  "Yeah, but I bet he's proud of every last battle scar.  They all are.  What is it about organized sports?"

Tina separated her cards in her hand, and tossed in three chips, raising the pot.  "Organized sports are a paradigmatic model of a just society.  Everyone knows the same language.  Everyone knows the rules.  And there's a specific punishment the moment someone tries to cheat.  Instant morality."

"Way to go, Squirt.  The Yale Psych major,"  Nan grinned proudly.  "But in this case, it's more of who gets caught cheating. The WWE is a prime example of a closed societal structure.  Cheating is accepted as a societal norm.  Getting caught however, is considered the real violation."

"Exactly!"  Stacy crowed, turning in some cards.  "Two please."

"They're competition junkies.  Three for me."  Rosie added.

"Aren't we all?"  Nan asked.  "One."

"Not me.  Not anymore," Lita answered, dealing out the cards.

"No?"  Dave asked.  "Then why does that gold belt that Trish carries around mean so much to you then, huh?  Look, we're all carrying prehistoric genes in a postmodern world.  We get our meat from a grocery store instead of with a club or a knife.  We have to work off our testosterone some how.  And two for me."

"The Serengeti effect," Tina observed, looking at Dave with a speculative light in her eyes.

"Precisely," Dave said with a short nod.

Applause broke out.

Dave frowned at them.  "Ahhhh….fuck off.  All of you.  Muscles don't equal muscle-head."

"Yeah, right," a voice snorted from the doorway.  They all turned to see Todd Grisham walking into the room.

"What do you know about it, pencil-dick?  Just because I pump iron and beat up guys for a living, doesn't mean I've got lard between my ears.  Some of us do read on a level a little higher than the back of a Fruit Loops cereal box, you know," Dave snarled.

Todd fixed a superior look on his face.  "The overbearing patriarchal structure of modern organized sports represents a socially palatable sublimation of what Jung refers to as the shadows of the unconscious."

The silence following his announcement was so thick that they could have heard an ant fart in Omaha.  Nan just stared at him.  "I bet he got beat up a lot in high school."

Stacy agreed.  "By the cheerleaders."

"You sucked at team sports, huh?"  Tina offered.

Todd hurried to defend himself.  "I…was the captain of the high school chess team."

Dave smiled smugly.  "Chess is not a sport, Todd."

"Then why is there a World Chess Champion?"  The smaller man challenged.

"Ah, Todd?"  Lita grinned.  "I think sports are physical by definition."

"Well, sex is physical.  Is that a sport," he asked.

"It is the way Hunter and I play it."  Nan announced.  She leaned in conspiratorially towards Stacy.  "He's got this thing he does with his…."

"Oh, hell no!"  Dave bellowed.

"Stop it!"  Rosie yelled.  "He's my brother!"

Tina clapped a hand over her eyes.  "Ewwww!  Bad visual place!!"

Todd grimaced at them.  "Disgusting.  I'm leaving."

They all applauded again as he walked out.  Stacy giggled and looked at Nan.  "You're evil.  You did that on purpose."

"Works every time, too." 

Another half-hour later… 

"What a night!  Regal pounded into ground-round, and now I get to settle up with Eugene!"  Hunter came in with a big smile on his face.  "Dave, you're relieved.  Your match is up in about fifteen."

Dave growled at him.  "Fuck that man.  Tina's got all my money.  I'll go after this next hand."  He looked around at them suspiciously.  "But I'm coming right back."

Nan looked up, suddenly aware of something.  "Where's Dixie?"  No one spoke.  "Okay, damnit, where's my dog?  She was just here a few minutes ago…Dixie?  Baby-dog?"  Her voice rose as she began to get upset.

"Relax, Nan,"  Dave spoke up with a sheepish look.  "She's fine."

He pushed away from the table and lifted a sleepy Dixie from his lap.  The movement awoke her and she happily began trying to lick the skin from Dave's face.  As Dave tried to keep her from sticking her tongue up his nose, laugher erupted around him.

"Gimme."  Nan held her hands out over the table. 

"Now that was disgusting."  Dave gladly handed the little dog over to her, where Nan slid her back onto her own lap. 

Hunter placed his hands over the grips on Nan's wheelchair.  "You about ready to go, baby?

Nan's gaze was back on her hand.  "Hunter, I'm trying to lose some money here."

He looked down at her cards.  "Looks like you're doing a good job, too."

"Yeah, and she owes me fifty bucks already," Stacy announced with a smile.

"I'm done, baby.  And you look tired."  Hunter tried again to get her to quit.  "Let's call it a night." 

"Uncle Hunter?"

"Yeah, Squirt?"

"With all due respect, deal in, or shut up."

The room erupted in laughter, Hunter being no exception.  "Now I know you're related.  You two have the same mouth on you."

Rosie giggled up at her brother.  "Look, Hunt, if it'll make you feel any better, the blues are ten, the reds are five, and the whites are a buck."

Hunter nodded, taking a seat beside Nan.  "Deal me in."

Hurricane came through the door just as the cards were beginning to be dealt out, with Chris was right behind him.

"Who's winning?"  Hurricane asked, after hugging Tina from behind.

Lita answered.  "Tina, at the moment."

"Go angel!"  Hurricane chortled, then sat down beside her.

Chris called out.  "Hey, these sandwiches for anybody?"

"Anybody with a death wish," Nan grinned.

"You want one, Rosebud?"

Rosie shrugged.  "What the hell…can't live forever."

Chris returned with the sandwiches.  "Any room for another?"

Lita sighed and stood up.  "You can have my spot, Chris.  I gotta go talk to Matt.  Later guys!"

Everyone called out their good-byes, and Nan watched Lita leave.  "That's gonna end badly," she murmured.

"Yeah, unfortunately."  Stacy echoed her statement, with a melancholy sigh.

Hunter spoke up when everyone had taken their seats.  "Where are we?" 

"Deal me in too.  Whose bet is it?"  Hurricane asked.

Tina announced.  "Ace bets four."

"Ah, that would be me."  Dave answered.  "Okay.  I'm in."

"Me too,"  Chris announced, placing his bet.

Rosie threw in her chips and asked, "Show's almost over.  It's 10:30 now.  Should we set a time limit?"

Nan nodded.  "Okay.  One week from today we deal once around to me."

Stacy agreed.  "Sounds good." 

Two hours later… 

Hunter yawned.  "Okay, baby.  That's it.  Let's pack it in.  What'd ya say?"

Nan nodded, looking far to pale for Hunter's liking.  "Same time next month, guys?"

"I thought this was the same time next month,"  Stacy mumbled through a yawn.

Tina leaned her head against Hurricane's shoulder.  "Let's quit."

"I've had enough,"  he agreed.

"I'm done in.  And broke,"  Jericho grumbled.

Dave stretched his arms over his head, groaning when his back popped.  "Yeah.  I've had it too."

But no one made a move to get up.

Rosie gave them with a tired grin.  "Who deals?"

Hunter sighed, reaching for the cards.  "Me, I guess.  Okay.  Five-card draw.  High low." 

~<>~

Isn't it rich?
Aren't we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.
Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.
       Send In The Clowns - Judy Collins

August 10, 2004 2:45 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

Hunter sat unmoving in the dimly lit room, his eyes fixed on the far wall.  He wondered briefly why he'd even come in here.  It wasn't like he expected any answers.  He'd given up on that a long time ago.  He'd just sort of wandered in, looking for some peace, quiet and solitude.  So he could think.  Or maybe not think.  Whatever.  It took him a moment, but finally it penetrated through his brain that he was no longer alone on the bench. 

"I thought I might find you in here."

"Why?"  Hunter scoffed.  "Think I found religion?"

"You?  Never.  But you are in a chapel, Hunter."

"I wanted to be alone," Hunter growled.

"So you can plan her funeral?"

"Are you tryin' ta piss me off, Jericho?  Or does it just come naturally?"

"It's more of a habit by now, I guess."  Chris looked over at him. "But no.  That's not why I came in here."

"Then why?"

Chris sighed.  "Because, you thickheaded lummox, everyone was worried about you."

"Everyone."  Hunter sneered.  "And they sent you to check up on me?  What, did you draw the short straw or something?"

"Do you try to be an asshole, or does it just come naturally to you?"  Chris threw his words back at him. 

"Listen you little…."

"I don't want to fight with you, Hunter."  Chris interrupted him hastily.  "I just…I'm…I'm just worried about her too.  And I didn't want you to think you were alone in that.  Outside of her family, of course."

Hunter just stared at him for a minute.  "I thought you hated me."

"I do.  Well, maybe not hate exactly.  It's a strong word.  Intensely dislike is better."  Chris quirked a grin at him.  "But that doesn't mean I'm enjoying watching you tear yourself apart either."

"I would."

"You think so, huh?"  Chris challenged him.  "Okay, tough guy, tell me this.  Put yourself in my shoes, and then make it Rosie in that operating room…before you knew she was your sister.  And Nan's in the waiting room with you, chewing her bottom lip bloody.  Now…would you still be tickled pink over this whole mess?"

A quick sarcastic retort sprung to his lips, but the sincere look in Jericho's eyes stopped him from giving utterance to it.  "Maybe not."

Chris nodded.  "Hunter, regardless of what's passed between us, and irrespective of the fact that she practically dumped me for you, she's still my friend.  And yeah, I still worry about you treating her well."

"I'd never lay a hand on her," Hunter denied with a dark glower.

"I know that.  But there are other ways, outside of physical violence, to hurt someone you love."  Chris' gaze grew brighter in intensity.  "And I know you love her.  But for once in your life, try not to see the worst in a situation.  You're not doing her any good by convincing yourself that you're gonna lose her.  Listen, I know her better than most, you and Shawn excepted, probably.  So you can bet your ass that she's in there fighting for all she's worth."

He rubbed his jaw with a grin.  "And that's saying something.  So the least you can do is not rip your own guts out and fight for her rather than against her.  Follow?"

Hunter pursed his lips, running his tongue over his teeth behind them.  "Positive thinking."

Chris shrugged.  "If you wanna call it that, then yeah."

He nodded.  Then Hunter chuckled unexpectedly.  "Rosie sent you, huh?"

Jericho flashed a mischievous grin.  "Yeah.  She asked me to play nice, too."

"Heh-heh.  Thought so.  A good woman, my sister.  With a heart bigger than all the egos in the locker room combined."

"Very true.  Makes me wonder where she got it from."  Chris looked over at him with a knowing glare.

But Hunter didn't rise to the baited implied question.  He sighed long and heavily instead, and whispered a quiet one-word answer.  "Dad."

That took Jericho by surprise, so he just didn't say anything, and Hunter eventually looked away.  He ran his hands through his hair, and slumped his shoulders, almost in defeat.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Chris nodded and turned his gaze back up at the large cross hanging on the wall, admiring its workmanship and the soft glow around it from the backlights.  It was peaceful in here, and he could see why Hunter had chosen it.

"Don't think this changes things between us," Hunter rumbled, breaking the silence.

Chris chuckled ruefully.  "I wouldn't dream of it." 

~<>~

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part
       The Waiting - Tom Petty

August 10, 2004 3:10 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

"What's eating you, kid?"  Dave asked Randy.  After the younger man had taken his seat, Dave had calmly strolled over and sat down beside him.

Randy looked up with a frown.  "Don't call me that."

"Huh?"  Dave asked, genuinely perplexed.

"I'm not a kid."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."  Randy flashed a sarcastic smile.  "Not a damn thing.  And nothing I'd voluntarily tell you.  What do you care what's bugging me, anyway?  He send you over here to check up on me, huh?"  He jerked his head towards the open doorway through which Hunter had left.

Dave's eyes narrowed, his brows cutting deep trenches across the planes of his forehead.  When he spoke, it was deep and quiet, but intense.  "I don't know what crawled up your ass and died, but you'd better get it in gear.  This isn't the time or place for this…this paranoid crap you're pulling."

"Oh, it isn't, huh," Randy sneered.  "This hasn't got anything to do with Evolution.  This is his deal.  Who are we protecting him from here, big man?  Just why the hell are we here anyway?"

"Because he's our friend and he's scared out of his mind right now."  Dave clarified, still extremely surprised at Randy's perception of things.  "And you're right, this has nothing to do with Evolution.  This is about loyalty.  Friendship.  Solidarity.  And genuine fuckin' concern about another human being.  Something I thought you'd know about considering how much time we all spent waiting on you in the same situations.  Especially Hunter.  With Nan right beside him, from the very beginning.  Just as worried about you as he was." 

"You remember her right?"  Dave added with a mean smile.  "The one who's being operated on right now?"

"Don't be a dick," Randy growled, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have to be.  You've got that covered already."

"I'm being a dick, huh?  Fine.  Maybe I am.  And maybe I've just decided that I need to stand on my own and that I don't need to be taking orders from them anymore."

"Them?"  Dave repeated, growing more and more annoyed.  "When the fuck did Evolution stop being we and become them?  Sounds like you're starting to take some of the crap we all say for the fans and cameras a little to literally.  You know as well as I do that things are different behind the scenes."

"Do I?"  Randy gave a noncommittal shrug.  "All I know is he says 'jump' and we all say 'how high'.  Well not me.  Not anymore."

"You're an idiot if you think that's really how things are.  Jealousy is an ugly thing, Randy.  And it'll consume you." 

"Not jealously.  Stark reality."  Randy's eyes were cold as they stared at him.  "You want to preach to someone about the evils of the green-eyed-monster?  Take it to Helmsley.  Because it's not needed here.  Besides, he may not be in a position to give so many orders after Sunday."

"I'd warn you not to turn on Hunter," Dave rumbled, returning Randy's intense stare.  "Because he'll make your life miserable in ways you can't begin to imagine.  That's reality.  But it'd be wasted breath.  It's obvious that you've already made your decision."

"I'm gonna win that belt off Benoit, Dave."  Randy vowed.  "And when I do, there's gonna be some changes in how Evolution does business.  Bank on it."

Dave stood up, his fingers curled into fists.  "I'm not having this asinine conversation with you.  When you come back down to Earth…back to that reality you seem to think you've got such a great handle on…let me know."  He started to walk away.

"You've got no future with Evolution.  Not as long as he's running things.  And you know it."  Randy spoke quietly.

Dave heard him.  He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at Randy's defiant expression.  "I know exactly where my future's headed.  Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me and decide where your loyalties lie.  And who's loyal to you."  

~<>~

I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll be there for you
'Cause you're there for me too
       I'll Be There For You - Rembrants

August 10, 2004 9:30 a.m.
United Airlines Flight 328 – Stamford, CT 

The First Class cabin was just about full.  No one not affiliated with the WWE took up even a single seat, although there were a few empty ones available.  There were some mid-carders in coach, as well as technicals and road crew.  But mostly the top money drawers and their wives or girlfriends relaxed in the posh cabin. 

Well, posh for a commercial airplane anyway.  Didn't hold a candle to McMahon's private jet, Dave thought as he looked around.  A lot of them were headed for connecting flights to head back home for the few days of downtime they could get.  But a good sized selection were on their way to the Tower to film commercials for upcoming pay-per-views like Unforgiven and the October one, that hadn't even been announced yet.  Others were going for contract negotiations, tax information, crap like that.

Necessary evils, Dave liked to call them. Actually, he was kind of looking forward to spending a few days with Hunter and his crew at their house, since he was scheduled for all three of those necessary evils.  Dave stood up feigning a stretch, his eyes scanning the passengers.  It never hurt to get the lay of the land. 

He spotted Nan's niece Tina and Hurricane cooing at each other near the back.  He grinned.  Young love.  Revolting.

Speaking of revolting, he barely glanced at Trish and Tompko where they sat plotting something at the back of the cabin.

Rosie and Jericho took up the seats across the isle from him.  Chris had headphones plugged into his ears, his head bopping back and forth like one of those new bobble-head dolls that the merchandise people were starting to come out with.  Rosie was devouring a paperback book that she'd obviously read more than once.  Its pages were dog-eared and the cover had seen better days.  And her eyes flew across the pages like they held the map to Coronado's gold contained in them.  She looked up suddenly, and turned to catch him staring at her.  She smiled, and gave a small wave.  He winked at her, enjoying the pink tint to her cheeks, just before she turned her eyes back to her book.

Edge and Karen sat in front of him.  They were engaged in a heated debate over something one of the Diva Wannabes had done to piss Karen off.  Sounded like Edge was on the losing end too.  Poor sap still hadn't learned that you never win an argument with a woman.  Even when you win, you lose.  Dave chuckled.

Continuing his perusal, he saw Randy seated two rows up from him, deep in conversation with someone on the phone hooked into the back of the seat.  His friend had been acting oddly since the Iron Man match.  He made a mental note to talk to him soon.  Naitch sat beside Randy, his head leaned back against the seat, sleeping deeply.  Even at fifty-six he kept hours like a youngster.  Up all night and sleeping all day.  He hoped he had the stamina to do the same when he got to be Ric's age.

The seats in front of Randy and Naitch held William Regal and Eugene.  Regal was currently chatting up the flight attendant.  Eugene was talking excitedly with the doe-eyed, black haired girlfriend of his Uncle Eric, who sat across the isle from him.  Lisa…Dave reminded himself.  Nice girl.  Too cute for Bischoff.  And Eric was sitting next to her, looking like he'd gladly pay to have someone shoot him if only it would keep Eugene quiet.

Rhyno and his new girlfriend, whose name currently escaped him, were sitting in the seats across from Randy. The girl had her head on Rhyno's shoulder and both appeared to be sleeping.  He'd only just met her the night before, but she'd made quite an impression.  Black hair with purple highlights had a tendency to do that.  But he kinda liked it.  Different.  Looked good on her.  And she had the coolest Scottish accent he'd ever heard.  Damn…what was her name?

Remembering why he got up, Dave slipped out into the isle, leaving Lillian Garcia to her magazine.  He walked to the front of the cabin and stopped at the bulkhead, squatting down beside where Hunter sat, hovering protectively over a sleeping Nan.  Hunter had the armrest between the seats pushed back, and she was tucked up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.  He'd even managed to pull her close enough so she had room to prop her leg up on the seat.  She hadn't been feeling very well the night before and Dave was starting to get concerned.

Dave's eyes flicked over to where her wheelchair, in all of it's funky décor, was strapped against the cabin wall.  "How's she doing?  She doesn't look too good."  She really didn't.  Her skin was too pale, with dark circles under her eyes.  And she looked like she was shivering.

Hunter sighed.  "I don't know.  She keeps complaining she's cold.  And she never gets cold.  Not this time of year anyway."

"Have you taken her temp?"

Hunter shook his head.  Dave reached out and punched the button to call the flight attendant.  She appeared at his side almost immediately.

"Yes, sir?"

Dave looked up at the smiling blonde.  "You got a thermometer somewhere on this bullet?"

Her eyes flicked over to Nan's face.  "In the first aid kit.  I'll be right back."

Seconds later she reappeared with one of those digital strip thermometers that you could just place against someone's forehead, which she proceeded to do.  Almost immediately the numbers started climbing. 

"Holy shit," Dave whispered, reading the strip.  The numbers had stopped at 102.3° 

Hunter immediately reached for one of the curtsey phones, remembering what Dr. Ashby had said about calling him if she developed a fever.

Dave stood up and turned to the flight attendant.  "When do we land?"

"In about five minutes.  I was just about to make the announcement."

"Make it.  Then clear a path.  They get off first," he swept a hand to indicated Nan and Hunter, who was now rambling information off to the doctor. 

Nodding, the flight attendant scurried off.  Dave waited until Hunter was finished, then told him what he'd said to the stewardess.  Slipping into an unoccupied seat across the isle, Dave buckled his seatbelt.

"Baby?  Baby?  Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes."  Hunter cajoled the seemingly unconscious woman in his arms, ignoring the announcement of the pending landing.

Hunter's pleas went unanswered as the flight made its final approach to Stamford Airport.  About the time the plane came to a stop on the tarmac, her eyes fluttered open.  Even from where he sat, Dave could see her automatically search out Hunter, but the look in her eyes chilled him.  Lights on; nobody home.

"Hey, there you are," Hunter grinned at her.  "We've landed.  Come on…let's get you to the hospital.  Okay, baby?"

"…'kay…don't…feel…so…good…" Her chest rose and fell with each word, and it looked like she was struggling for breath.

Hunter and Dave shared a worried look.  Nan agreeing to go to the hospital was not a good thing.  Immediately, Dave was out of his seat, and retrieving their carry on bags, barking out for Randy and Naitch to get up there.

His call turned all attention up to the front of the plane.  Hunter helped Nan into a sitting position, then got up to unstrap her wheelchair.  While he fumbled with the straps, Dave caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

"…hunter…" Nan held out a weak hand towards him.  Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped down sideways, tumbling out of the seat and onto the floor, out cold.  And First Class erupted.

Hunter dropped to his knees, gathering her to him.  "Baby?  Baby wake up!  Come on, wake up!"

"Nan!"  Dave thought he recognized Karen's voice over the commotion.

"Sunshine?!"

"Nettie?!  What's wrong??"  Tina yelled out.

Hunter turned frantic eyes on Dave.  "She won't wake up!"

"Somebody call 9-1-1!" 

~<>~

'Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone
       Everybody Hurts - REM

August 10, 2004 3:15 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

Rosie looked up, concern on her features as Chris came back in and sat down beside her.  Closing the magazine, she reached over and took his hand.  Chris smiled at her, and threaded his fingers through hers.  He lifted her hand up to press a gentle kiss to the palm, and curled her fingers over the kiss before lowering it back down to rest on his leg.

"He okay?"

Chris nodded.  "Yeah.  He was just looking for a place quiet to think.  He's really worried though."

"He's not alone," Rosie commented quietly. 

"These for me?"  Chris looked over at the Mt. Dew and Rice Krispie Treat sitting on the table beside him.

"Mmm-hmm.  Mrs. Elliott brought them."  Rosie sighed.  "I'll be glad when this is over.  I hate not knowing anything."

Chris grunted in assent as he peeled off the wrapper and took a big bite out of the sticky treat.  He looked up, and nodded his head.  "He's back."

"I'll be right back," Rosie murmured as she made her way over to where Hunter sort of fell into the chair.  Sliding into the seat beside him, she sat quietly, wondering what to say.

"I'm okay, Rosie."

Hunter's quiet comment took her by surprise, causing her to blurt out the first thing on her mind.  "You've got lots of friends who want to help."

Her brother slowly turned an incredulous gaze on her.  "Lots of friends?  Me?  You gotta be kidding."

"Hunt…."

"No, seriously, Rosie.  These people aren't here for me.  There're here for Nan.  Not that I'm faulting them for that."  He gazed earnestly at her.  "But you've gotta see it…if it were me in that operating room, they wouldn't be here."

"I'd be here."  She smiled sadly at him.  "You're the only family I've got left, Hunter.  And even if you weren't, I'd still be here.  Chris too."

He snorted at that.

"Listen, I know your mother did her damndest to convince you that you weren't worth anything or that anyone would ever think differently, but it's just not true."

"I don't wanna talk about Mother.  Drop it."

"No."  Rosie stiffened her spine.  "You need to hear this.  Whether you believe it or not, I'm sure everyone here would be worried about you."

"Rosie, you're sweet.  A great girl and I'm proud to call you my sister.  But hon, you just don't see me for who I really am."

"That's where you're wrong.  You're the one who doesn't see you for who you really are.  All of the Elliotts would be here.  Stacy too.  Maybe not Hurricane, but he's just starting to get to know the real Hunter."  Rosie argued, wishing she could erase all of the damage his mother had ever done to him.

"Okay, I'll give you that the Elliotts would probably show up.  And Stacy.  Maybe even Jerky, because he goes wherever you go.  But don't delude yourself that he'd be here for me.  Cause he wouldn't."  Hunter's tone was adamant.

Rosie frowned, knowing she was fighting a losing battle, but she still had to try.  Not being a quitter must run in the Helmsley genes.  "Randy and Dave would be here, too."

"Randy's here because he thinks he has to be.  Look at him over there," he jerked his head in Randy's direction.  "He's not said one word to anyone since we got here.  He's been on the phone the whole time."

"Not the whole time," Rosie corrected.  "He talked to Stacy for most of the time you were gone.  Dave too."

"Humph."  Hunter grunted, his eyes narrowing briefly before looking down at the floor again.  "Doesn't matter.  Doesn't change anything."

"When did you get to be such a pessimist?" 

He flashed her a sideways grin that didn't reach his eyes.  "That's what I've been trying to tell you, sweetie.  You don't know me."

"Randy's your friend, Hunter.  He's here because he cares.  Dave too."

Hunter nodded.  "Yeah.  Dave does.  But Randy…" He shrugged, and didn't finish his statement.

"And Ric, too."

Her brother's head popped up and fixed her with an icy look.  "Ric.  Ric's the reason we're here, Rosie.  Or did you not catch that earlier?"

"No need to get snotty on me.  I caught it," she answered defensively.  "But did you catch it that it was an accident?"

"An accident I should have known about before today.  Nan should have told me.  Or Naitch at least.  But no.  I had to find out as they were taking her into fucking surgery.  So don't talk to me about Ric being my friend, Rosie," Hunter snarled.  "If he were really my friend, he'd have told me long before now."

Rosie kept quiet, not knowing how to answer that.  She couldn't understand either why neither Ric nor Nan had said anything to him before today.  And as much as she hated it, she did get why Hunter was mad at Ric.  He couldn't be mad at Nan…at least, not until she was better.  And Ric, wearing his guilt so obviously, did make a perfect target.  While she believed Nan would come through this with flying colors, she was beginning to wonder if the rest of the relationships in the waiting room would be so lucky. 

~<>~

You'd better bet your life I'm going out
Screaming
Like I came in
Screaming
Love and emotion
We're told will keep us sheltered
From the threat of the bear
But danger is everywhere
So take my hand now
As they adopt their fighting stance
Parade our derision
And assume the position, configuration
        Screaming - IQ

August 10, 2004  11: 15 a.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

"What the in hell is he doing here?!"

Ric whirled around in surprise at the voice echoing throughout the nearly silent hospital corridor.  "Mr. Elliott…."

"Don't you say a damn word to me, son of a bitch!  How dare you have the gal to show your face here!"

All eyes turned to see Red Elliott vibrating in rage, squaring off against Ric Flair.  Hunter stepped over to them.  The look on his face was pure confusion, having no idea what was going on.  "What's the problem?"

Red turned furious eyes on him.  "Get him outta here, boy.  Or I swear I will."

"Mr. Elliott," Ric started again.  "I'm just here to…."

"To what, Flair?!  To finish what you started back in '75?!"

"Red!"  Ellie hissed, horrified.  "Don't do this.  Not now."

"Hush up, woman!"  Red barked, turning back to Flair.  "You damn near killed her when she was a little girl.  And there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you do it now!"

"It was an accident!"  Ric began yelling back.  "I didn't know she was behind that door!"

"She followed you everywhere you went!  How could you not know?!"  Red's breathing grew ragged. 

"Mr. Elliott, please…"  Hunter began.

Red turned on him.  "Get him outta here!"

"I'm not going anywhere!"  Ric yelled now angered past reason.  "Nan and I settled this between us last week!  Last week!  And how in God's name do you stand there, all self-righteous and accusing me of trying to kill your daughter when you're the reason this has gone on as long as it has!  I tried!  For years, I tried to see her…to make this right…and you wouldn't allow it!  You let her believe for almost thirty years that I hated her.  That I blamed her!" 

Ric leaned in and in a low, cold voice hissed,  "So, when you're looking for the man that hurt your daughter…I suggest you take a good, long look in the mirror!"

"You bastard!"  Red snarled, raising his cane threateningly, with every obvious intention of cracking Ric over the head with it.

"That's enough!"  Hunter's bellow reverberated through the hospital, startling Red enough to lower the cane.  He fixed them both with a disgusted glare.  "Nan is fighting for her life…her life…in that operating room right now and all either of you can do is see who can out shout and out blame the other!"

"That's my daughter in there!"  Red hissed.  "And he put her there!"

"I don't give a rat's ass right now who's at fault!  All I care about is whether or not she comes back out on a gurney or in a body bag!  Now both of you, sit down and shut up, or you can both get the hell out!"

"Champ…" Ric began, his eyes wide.

"Not now, Naitch.  I don't wanna hear one damn word you have to say."  At Red's smugly knowing grin, Hunter added.  "You either.  You are her father.  And for that you've got my respect.  But you're testing the mortal hell out of my patience.  Don't make me say something Nan'll regret.  Or make you leave."

"You can't throw me out!"  Red denied.

"No, but I certainly can," a very angry voice called from behind them.

They all turned to see a very short nurse, nicely rounded with pregnancy, barreling up to them, looking like she was about to skin them all alive.  Her voice was low, but furious and filled with malice.  "This is a hospital, for God's sake!  The only person who has to be here is him."  She thumped Hunter on the chest.

"Thanks, Peggy," Hunter nodded at her, having known this particular nurse from his own previous trips to the hospital.

"Shut your yap, you over-grown orangutan."  She glared at him.  "You're making as much noise and commotion as they are.  And just because you've got her power of attorney doesn't mean you're above the rules.  Oh, and here."  She pressed something into his hand.  Hunter looked down, and felt his heart slam into his ribs. 

It was the silver 'H' necklace he'd given Nan two Christmases ago.  The one that he'd never seen her take off.  He cradled it in his fist before jamming it down into his pocket.

At their continued silence, she nodded.  She looked Ric first, then Red.  "You two.  Opposite corners, now.  Or I'm calling security."  She turned to Hunter.  "And you. Go…pace…or something.  We'll let you know when we hear anything."

Without waiting for any response, she stomped away, fully expecting them all to obey.

And they did. 

~<>~

I am a rock,
I am an island.
I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.
       I Am A Rock - Simon & Garfunkle

August 10, 2004 3:26 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital – Stamford, CT 

"How're you holding up, man?"  Dave asked softly.

"Shitty."  Hunter snorted. He turned his head looking up at Dave through his hair. "Dixie.  Oh, my God, I forgot about Dixie."

"Relax.  Edge and Karen picked her up and said they'd keep her until you called for her."

"Thank God."  Hunter breathed out raggedly.  "How long's it been?"

Dave sighed.  "Four hours, give or take."

"Jesus."  Hunter dropped his head into his hands.

"Surgery takes time, Champ."  Before Hunter could respond, Dave nudged him.

He looked up to see Dr. Ashby, still dressed in surgical scrubs coming towards him.  "Mr. Helmsley?"

Dave and Hunter surged forward.  Everyone else stood up and moved closer to hear what he had to say.

Hunter spoke first.  "Dr. Ashby.  How is she?"

"She came through like a trouper."  The quirky little doctor grinned.  "Looks like those antibiotics didn't agree with her.  She developed an allergic reaction to them,  but we got to her in time.  And the infection too.  We were able to clean it all out.  She's doing just fine, Mr. Helmsley.  She'll be in recovery for a little while, then we'll move her up to her room."

"Yes!"  The muffled whisper came from Jericho as he moved shakily to sit down.

Dave slumped in relief.  But Hunter didn't. 

"What about the pin?"

The doctor sighed tiredly, but still smiling at him.  "It's been replaced.  Just another bit of hardware to add to her already impressive dossier.  She'll need to be off that foot completely for at least two weeks.  Then after that, we'll re-check her and talk about crutches, and physical therapy to strengthen that leg some.  Provided all goes well, she should be back on her own two feet in a few weeks.  But we'll discuss that later."

Hunter nodded.  "When can I see her?"

"Soon.  I'll send a nurse for you when she's moved."  With that, the doctor turned and left them to their own devices.

Hunter turned to Dave with a shaky smile, and the two shared a back pounding hug.  Soon, hugs were exchanged, hands shaken, and tears wiped away with beaming smiles as they all shared a bone-deep feeling of relief.  There were a few slightly tense moments.  Like when Ric faced off with Hunter, and when Hunter turned to Mr. Elliott.  But animosity was shoved aside in favor of comfort.  So, for the moment at least, truces were declared.

And no one knew exactly when Randy slipped out of the waiting room unnoticed. 

~<>~

We've seen our share of ups and downs
Oh how quickly life can turn around
In an instant
It feels so good to realize
What's in yourself and within your mind
Let's find peace there
When you are with me I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My Sacrifice
       My Sacrifice - Creed

August 10, 2004 5:13 p.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital, Room 217 – Stamford, CT 

Hunter stood at the foot of her bed, just staring down at her.  She always looked small to him, but right now, she looked absolutely tiny.  Lying unmoving under white sheets and blankets, her skin color almost matched the linens.  A bit of color was coming back into her cheeks, but she still looked too pale to him.  Only her copper colored tresses stood out in the bank of white.  Her chest rose and fell regularly, as she breathed in the oxygen from the tube strapped to her face.  And her heartbeat was clear and steady, as testified by the constant blip of the machine next to her bed.

He glanced at her leg, elevated off the mattress, and hanging from the traction pulley dangling from the ceiling.  The wires weren't taught, and appeared only to be there for the elevation rather than traction.  She had only white bandages enclosing her foot, running from the base of her toes halfway up her calf. 

Something was wrong with the way her foot looked.  Then it hit him.  They'd removed her toenail polish.  She wasn't going to be pleased about that.  On impulse, he gingerly covered her toes with his palm.  Just as he thought, they were ice cold.  He'd need to remind someone to put a sock on her foot.  She hated it when her feet were too cold.

He waited until her toes felt warmer to him, before releasing her foot, and moving around to sit beside the bed.  He pulled the chair a little closer, and just looked at her.  Letting his eyes drink in their fill.  He'd never been so scared in his life.  And he didn't ever want to be that frightened again.  But he would be. 

He wasn't fool enough to think that there wouldn’t be another time somewhere along the line where he'd be the one sitting out the torture of a hospital waiting room.  Usually she went through it.  And he swore right then that he'd be more understanding of her reactions in the future.  Because to keep either one of them from going through it, they'd have to split up.  And there was no way in hell that was gonna happen.  Not if he had anything to say about it.

Tremors started racing up and down his spine.  He looked down at his hands where they hung limp from where his forearms were braced on his knees.  They were shaking.  Adrenaline bleed out was a bitch.  Sighing deeply, he folded his arms on the mattress next to where her right hand lay limply on the sheets.  He laid his head down on his arms and closed his eyes.

He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until gentle movements near his head penetrated his exhausted brain.  Someone was playing with his hair.  Nan.  He opened his eyes, and sure enough, her fingers were lightly 'petting' the strands of his hair where they spilled over on the sheets.  He looked up to find her eyes open, and on him.

"Hey," he smiled at her without lifting his head.

"…hey…yourself…" she whispered back, her lips turning up into a very weak smile.  "…you…okay…."

He couldn't believe it.  Here she was, just hours from major surgery, and she wanted to know how he was doing.  "Yeah," he whispered, his voice thick and husky with emotion. 

Slowly as not to jostle her, he moved a hand out from under his head and closed his fingers around hers.  He sat up, lifting her hand to his face.  He pressed a kiss to it, and rubbed the back of it across his cheek.  He closed his eyes again, briefly, feeling the sting of tears behind his lids.  A heavy lump settled in his throat, threatening to choke him. 

Thoughts crashed around in his brain like a sugar hyped five-year-old in a ball-pit.  He wanted to tell her he loved her.  That she frightened the shit out of him.  That she'd better not ever do it again.  That he never wanted to lose her. 

But when he opened his mouth, something entirely different came out.  "Marry me."

She pulled her hand from his, and trailed her fingers across his lips and cheek.  A sweet smile curved her mouth, and her lids drooped drowsily.

Yet, just before her eyes closed completely, he heard her quiet whisper.  "…no..." 

<End>

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