Title: Going For The Gold
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution: Empress' Private Library and The Wayside Inn  All others ask first.
Rating: R - For language.  No sex.  Sorry guys.
Category: Number 15 in the Behind the Scenes series, follows #14 Enemies, Blood & Hidden Agendas parts 1 & 2.
Characters: Hunter/Nan; Mick Foley; Dave Batista; Stacy Kiebler; Tina Elliott/Hurricane; Ric Flair; Eddie Guerrero; The Big Show; Kurt Angle; Undertaker; Kevin Nash; Scott Hall; Rosie; John Cena; Dixie the Wonder Wiener Dog; and of course the occasional OFC.
Spoilers:  None.  Takes place during August 13, 2004, Summer Slam of August 15, 2004 and RAW of August 16, 2004.
Warnings:  Language, violence, and severe plot swerves ahead.  Seat belts recommended.
Summary:  I hate writing 'em …but you guys want 'em…so here goes.  Nan gets out of the hospital and tells Hunter the truth about why she said 'no.' Tina does something unexpected and stirs up some serious trouble at the same time.  The mystery bad guy from Chapters 12 & 13 is revealed.  But what about his accomplice???
Author's Notes: Nan's observations about what Hunter wants are not my own words.  I wish they were.  Actually, they belong to a commentary another fan wrote about him that I agreed with.  And I saved that section so long ago, that I've since forgotten who wrote it, and where I read it.  If I knew I would gladly give them credit for it.  But I don't, so I hope this disclaimer makes up for me borrowing their words.  Also, you guys seem to love Tina so much and want me to keep her around, so I'm giving her her own plot line.  Be careful what you ask for, because you just may get it.
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer: Not mine - theirs.  Some are mine and I'm keeping those.  No money made.  Sue me and you can get whatever you can out of my worldly possessions.  But touch my Triple H posters and I'll break your legs.  On with the show.

Did you know that before you came into my life
It was some kind of miracle that I survived
Some day we will both look back
And have to laugh
We lived through a lifetime
And the aftermath
       This Is The Time - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 10:31 a.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital, Room 217 - Stamford CT 

Nan slammed her book shut with the firm thunk that only a hardback book can make.  She didn't care what Anita Blake was doing.  She didn't care was Jean-Claude was doing.  And although she'd waited four whole books for it, she really didn't even care that what Jean-Claude was currently doing was Anita.  She looked down at the title, reading it silently.  The Killing Dance by Laurell K. Hamilton. 

She'd followed the unlikely love story of a vampire executioner and the most powerful vampire in Saint Louis, Missouri, with rabid interest ever since her brother Robbie had introduced her to the series.  Hunter had found it highly entertaining that she'd been so easily spell bound by the chemistry between the two characters and had devoured every word on the printed pages.  He'd surprised her this past Valentine's Day, and presented her with the entire series up to current press.  Every time a new one came out, somehow, Hunter had found out about it before she had and had gotten the next one for her. 

He found it amusing, given his upcoming role of Jarko Grimwood in Blade Trinity, that she was so enraptured by a Vampiric love story.  Granted, it was mixed throughout with an almost mind-numbing amount of violence, mysticism, and a good old-fashioned mystery.  But it was essentially a love story, weird though it may have been.  He'd listened to her grumble under her breath, and then even to him, that it was making her nuts that Anita kept denying her feelings for the ultimate bad guy, when he so obviously adored her.

Although Richard, the werewolf, was a more suitable companion for Anita, Nan had held her breath actually longing for Anita to turn away from the peevish Richard and run heart-first into the waiting arms of the powerful Jean-Claude.  But now that the moment had finally come, now that Anita and Jean-Claude had finally reached that moment, Nan couldn't muster up the interest to continue reading the story.

She gave a bitter chuckle.  It mirrored her current sticky wicket with Hunter all too closely. Jean-Claude was described in the classic vampire-esque venue, as a tall, pale, lanky, graceful, too pretty to be real man, with long curly black hair and piercing blue eyes.  Regardless of that fact, every time she picked up the book, another face came to her mind's eye.  All she could see in her head was a certain charismatic, ruggedly handsome, scowling, muscular, blonde haired, whiskey-eyed pro-wrestler.  Although, the thoughts of Hunter speaking French like Jean-Claude did still gave her a set of the giggles.

Nan nodded.  She and Anita Blake were both idiots.  Anita for denying her love for the Master Vampire and herself for not telling Hunter why she'd said no to his proposal.  Of course, it wasn't like they'd discussed it after it had happened.  No, Hunter hadn't brought it up again the next time she saw him.  Then again, neither had she.  But it was still there, lying between them.  Sort of like a dead animal in the middle of the living room.  They were both aware of its presence, but neither of them was willing to poke at it for fear of what it may disturb.  But this discussion wasn't going to go away. 

He'd said marry me.

And she'd said no.

Groaning, she dropped her head into her hands.  Gearing herself up, an unexpected sound from the doorway thwarted her mental preparations for a good self-ass-kicking.

"Hellewww!  I hear there's a pretty lady in need of company in here," a high squeaky voice called out.

Nan looked up to see a sock puppet, with a face hand-drawn on it, sticking out from behind the door to her hospital room.  A wide smile split her face, and she laughed.  "Hey there, Mr. Socko!  Did you bring Mick with you?"

Mick Foley stuck his head in the doorway and grinned at her.  "But of course.  You know we're never too far apart." 

He came into the room, shutting the door behind him and stepped over to the side of her bed.  With Socko still on his hand, he leaned over and gave her a tight hug, before sitting down in the available chair.  "How you doin', kiddo?"

"Pretty good, all things considering.  What brings you down this way?"

Mick shrugged.  "Working out some details for my newest book at the Tower.  And I wanted to come by and visit some of the kids up on the pediatrics ward.  I heard through the grapevine that you were here and decided to stop in."

He took a good look around the room.

"Wow.  Looks like a florist has a seizure in here," he commented, surveying all of the different types of flowers and green plants in the private room.  "Hunter send all of these?"

"No," Nan shook her head.  "They're from family and friends. Chris and Rosie sent those."  She pointed over to the far corner that was filled with at least a dozen multicolored balloons.

Mick eyed the balloons skeptically, especially the overlarge one of a popular cartoon character.  "Spongebob Squarepants.  Looks like him."

"His idea of a joke.  He knows that spongy freak gives me the creeps."  She smiled.  "I'm going to leave the flowers for the nurses.  They'd just die a long, horrible death at my hands anyway.  Would you mind taking the balloons down to the kids for me?"

"Sure.  They'll love 'em."  His eyes fell on another set of blooms.  "And I see Kane sent you his customary calling card."

She nodded.  "Yeah, although where he gets roses so dark red that they look black, I'll never figure out.  They're pretty though."

Mick nodded.  His eyes fell on a huge vase on the windowsill.  It was filled with roses and carnations of various colors.  A big white ribbon was tied around the vase with a card that could easily be read from where he sat, saying Best Wishes On A Speedy Recovery.  He gave a low whistle.  "That's impressive.  I'm sure that one set Hunter back a pretty penny."

"He didn't send it.  It's nice, but a bit overkill.  And confusing too."

"How so?"

Nan looked at the flowers then back to him.  "Mick, the card is signed, Vince, Linda, Shane and Stephanie."

"Whoa," Mick's eyes got wide.  "What's that all about?"

"I have no idea."  Nan shrugged perplexed.  "You know Vince hasn't been all that warm towards me since Hunter and I went public with our relationship after he and Stephanie split up."

Mick nodded.  "But you two used to be pretty tight."

"Used to be, yeah. And why on earth would Stephanie's name be on the card?"

"You got me on that one.  I wouldn't worry about it though.  It was probably sent by his secretary anyway."  Mick commented casually trying to allay her fears.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she murmured thoughtfully, not sounding entirely convinced.

"So!  When are you getting paroled?"

"Getting sprung today.  Dr. Ashby has already given me the all-clear to go home," she grinned at him.  But it faded as quickly as it came.  "I kind of thought Hunter would have been here by now." 

~<>~

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out the less that I know
Black and white is how it should be
But shades of grey are the colors I see
       Shades of Grey - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 10:31 a.m.
Hunter's Gym - Greenwich, CT 

"She said what?"

"You heard me," Hunter responded tersely as he mentally continued to keep count of the arm curls he was executing.  Working out always helped clear his head whenever he was stressed.  The burn of muscles stretched to their absolute limits and the following endorphin rush cleared away the cobwebs better than anything else he'd tried in his life.  This time, though, it wasn't working.  But he continued on, regardless, needing the exercise.  He set the dumbbells back on the rack and immediately reached for a heavier set.  He skipped the forty-pounders and went right for the sixties, beginning his curls over again.

Dave watched his friend as he drove his body to the limits, and shook his head.  Hunter's matter of fact retelling of what had happened between him and Nan when she woke up didn't agree with the calm facade he was presenting.  Hunter was tense, driven, and not relaxing into his workout the way he usually did.  Dave adjusted the leg-press he was working on, upping the amount of weight. 

It didn't make any sense to him.  He knew Nan loved Hunter and that he was equally smitten with her.  Hell everyone knew it. He'd always assumed they'd tie the knot eventually.  But still, if Hunter's abrupt proposal took him by surprise, which it did, then Nan's refusal absolutely floored him.  Why would she have said no?  Then a though occurred to him.  Unless…

"You didn't really propose."

Hunter stopped in mid curl.  "What?"

Dave fixed him with a piercing look.  "You said that when she woke up you said 'Marry me.'  You didn't ask her.  You sort of…ordered her to."

"What does that matter?  She still said no," Hunter growled going right back to his workout.

"Everything from the sound of it.  Look, I'm no expert on the female mind," Dave ignored Hunter's rude snort.  "But I have gotten to know Nan pretty well over the past few years."

"She doesn't think like a normal female."

"That not withstanding," Dave growled, getting irritated at Hunter's interruptions.  "I do know that she doesn't respond well to being ordered around.  And I can't see her reacting any differently on this subject."

"So you think she said no because I didn't ask her nicely," Hunter sneered.

"It's a possibility.  But knowing her, she's probably got other reasons too."

"Oh that's just rich."  Hunter gave a bitter chuckle.  "Instead of saying no for an absolutely typical girlie reason, she's got a whole plethora of reasons not to marry me."

"Plethora.  Big word choice," Dave grinned.

"Fuck you," he snarled.

Dave sighed.  "Hunter…."

"Did you talk to Orton?"  Hunter abruptly changed the subject.  At Dave's nod he plowed ahead.  "Is he gonna stick to the plan?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Dave rolled with the topic switch, knowing that when Hunter got this way that there was no point in trying to steer him back to something he didn't want to discuss.

"Why not?"  Hunter replaced the weights and then moved over to his stair-step machine.  He punched the buttons and began a fast-paced climb.

Dave hesitated for a moment, then gave him a quick run-down on the conversation he'd had with Randy in the hospital waiting room three days prior.  Hunter's scowl grew darker and fiercer with each passing word.  Once he was finished with his story, Dave gave his opinion. 

"He's convinced he's gonna win.  And he's got a definite blurring of how much we do and say for the cameras is real, and how much isn't."

"Perhaps we should clear it up for him.  Let him know exactly what it means to cross Evolution."  Hunter growled, his whiskey eyes snapping.  "So he's left the fold, huh?  We've got a traitor in our midst."

"Maybe," Dave answered.  "But that depends on two things."

"Enlighten me."

"One, if he really does win on Sunday."  Dave paused to let that sink in.  "And two, if he sticks to the plan anyway, and gives up the belt to you on Monday night.  Cause you know if he does beat Benoit, he's got that automatic thirty day rematch clause."

He nodded.  "And Benoit will invoke it immediately."

"What do you want to do?"

Hunter thought for a moment.  "Wait.  I wanna see what Orton's gonna do.  Then I'll know how to proceed."

They lapsed into silence, each of them concentrating on their workout.  After another fifteen minutes, Hunter cut off the stair-machine.  He looked up at the clock.  "I've got to go."

"Want me to come with?"

"Nah," Hunter shook his head.  "You stay here and finish your workout."

Dave nodded.  But he called out to him before Hunter could make it completely out the door.  "Did you mean it?"

He stopped, his hand on the door, and looked back at Dave.  "Mean what?"

"When you told her to marry you.  Did you mean it?"

Hunter looked at him for a long time before he answered.  "I'm not sure." 

Then he was gone.

Dave stared at the closed door.  He wasn't surprised by that answer.  Not at all. 

~<>~

She's frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
But she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
       She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 11:35 a.m.
Stamford Memorial Hospital, Room 217 - Stamford, CT 

Mick had been gone for about a half an hour and Nan had tried to read her book again.  She gave up completely and tossed it into the chair that Mick had vacated when she realized she'd read the same scene three times and couldn't remember a fargin word.  Reaching for the remote, she flicked the television on.  After scrolling through the channels, all thirteen of them, she remembered why she didn't watch television during the day.  Daytime TV sucked. 

With a disgusted noise she gave up and laid the remote on the little table beside the bed.  She folded her arms over her chest and glared at the image of Judge Mablean Ephriam, resigning herself to having to deal with Divorce Court.

"Great.  Exactly what I need to watch right now," Nan groused. 

However only five minutes of the show had passed by when a soft knock fell on her door.  She called out for the visitor to come in, and the door opened to reveal a smiling Stacy Kiebler.

"Oh, thank God!  Come in; come in!  You're saving me from the evils of FOX daytime programming!"

Leaving the door slightly open, Stacy looked over at the television with a grimace as she laid down her jacket and purse then moved Nan's book to sit down.  "How do you watch that stuff?"

"It's not so bad if you cross one eye.  And switch off your brain.  Judge Larry Joe of Texas Justice isn't so bad though," Nan answered with a wry grin as she reached over to punch the power button that would switch off the television.  She turned back to her friend, eyeing the gift bag in Stacy's hands.  "Whatcha got there?"

"A gift from two of your many admirers," Stacy responded with a big smile, passing her the bag.

"As if," Nan snorted.  She took the bag and pulled off the card attached to the front.  She ripped into the envelope and tugged the card free.  Opening it, she read it aloud.  "Heard you had a little mishap.  Get better soon, because we both can't be out of action at the same time.  Who's gonna keep Hunter in line?  Love, Shawn.  PS:  See what happens when you kick Runt's ass rather than letting me do it?  Love ya, Deez."

She looked up at Stacy, her eyes wide.  "How'd they know?"

Stacy shrugged an elegant shoulder.  "I had a friend call and tell them what happened."

"A friend, huh?"  Nan fixed the blonde with a piercing look and knowing smirk.

"Yes, a friend.  Open your present already."

With a  chuckle, she untied the bow holding the bag closed and jerked the festively colored tissue paper out, tossing it haphazardly at Stacy.  Laughing, Stacy snatched the floating papers out of the air and began balling them up.  Nan reached into the bag and felt something soft inside.  Pulling it out, she revealed a stuffed wolf cub, wearing a blue collar with a silvery tag that read Love, Papa Wolf.

Nan didn't say anything, instead rubbing the soft fur across her cheek.  She turned glassy eyes to Stacy.  "He always did know how to cheer me up."

She nodded.  "Press his tummy."

Curious, Nan did as directed and both women laughed as the room was filled with a lonely wolf's howl.  "Yeah, he's a keeper," Nan grinned, tucking the wolf cub on her lap, folding her arms across it.

"Where'd all your flowers go?"  Stacy asked as she looked around.  "It looked like a florist shop the last time I was in here, right after your surgery."

"The nurses came and got them just a little while ago, since I'm leaving today."  She sighed.  "You just missed Mick."

"Oh, man!"  Stacy wailed with a frown.  "I hate that.  I'd have loved to have seen him."

Nan nodded, knowing how close they'd gotten since the Test and Stiener incident.  "If he'd know you were coming, I'm sure he'd have waited."

"I'll catch up with him another time.  How'd you manage to get to go home so soon?"

Nan fixed her friend with a wicked smile.  "I waited until Hunter wasn't here and told Dr. Ashby that if he didn't let me go home, in time to go with Hunter to Summer Slam, that I'd wait until he left for Canada and check myself out against medical advice."

"And then go to Canada anyway."

Nan nodded.  "Exactly right."

"Sneaky, Faith.  Very sneaky," Stacy said with a grin.  "But are you okay to leave?  Really?"

"Dr. Ashby said so.  Really, he was going to let me go anyway.  I'm still bound to Speed Buggy," she said, referring to her wheelchair.  "For the next two weeks anyway.  But then, if I'm a good little girl, I can go back on my crutches.  His only condition was that I've got to go through a physical therapy regimen.  Starting immediately.  But I can do it at home or wherever.  Which means…"

"That Hunter gets to finally get you into his gym, right?"  Stacy finished for her with a laugh.  "Boy, he's gonna love that!"

"A little too much, if you ask me.  But Dr. Ashby says that he's a good candidate for the home rehab due to his familiarity with it from his quad injury."

"That, and he won't let you shirk it off, claiming pain.  He knows you too well to not know when you're bluffing."

"Don't remind me."  Nan groused.

"He also won't let you hurt yourself either."

"I know.  I just hate those damn exercises."

Her friend nodded sympathetically.  "So when's he coming to get you?"

Nan shrugged, and looked down at the stuffed toy on her lap, plucking absently at its ears.  "Dunno.  I've not seen him today."

Stacy frowned, noting the sad look around her friends eyes, and the way her mouth turned down at the corners.  "Hey, something wrong?"

Nan shook her head first no, then yes.  She finally whispered, "Hunter asked me to marry him."

Stacy's joy bubbled up and over.  "Oh, Nan!  That's…"  Her smile quickly faded and her voice dropped off.  "Oh.  He did, huh?  And you said…"

"No," she whispered softly.  She lowered her face to bury it in the fuzzy wolf's head, and began to cry.  "Oh, Stace!  What am I gonna do?"

Stacy slid up onto the edge of the bed, and wrapped her arms around her friend, letting her cry on her shoulder as the tears turned into painful sobs.  They sat that way for some time as Nan cried out her conflicting emotions.  Never one to let a friend cry alone, Stacy found her own eyes misting over with her friend.  Stacy just held her for a minute, before Nan pulled away, wiping at her eyes.  Stacy reached over and plucked some tissues from the box beside the bed, and passed them to the redhead, then retrieved some for herself.

"Gotta love waterproof mascara, huh?"  Stacy joked.

Nan snorted, with a small smile.  "I'm sorry. I got snot on your shoulder."

Stacy waved a tissue in the air and then blew her nose into it.  "I work for the WWE and Vince McMahon, remember?  I've had worse on me.  You wanna talk to me now?"

She gave a small nod.  "But it's nothing you don't already know about."  Well, one thing was, but I'm not allowed to talk about that, she amended silently, and not without a small amount of bitterness.

"Tell me anyway," Stacy said gently.  "It'll make you feel better, and maybe put some things in perspective for you."

Nan lifted the tissues to her face, to wipe at the tears continuing to leak from her eyes and trail slowly down her cheeks.  "It's not that I don't love him.  You know I do.  And I know he loves me…but…"

"But?"  Stacy prompted when Nan lapsed into silence.

"You didn't see his face when I said no.  I caught a glimpse of it just before I fell back to sleep.  He looked like I'd told him I'd just slept with Naitch or something.  He looked so hurt."  Her tears flowed a little heavier at that.  "I never wanted to hurt him.  And I wanted to say more than just no, but I couldn't keep my eyes open."

"I'm sure he doesn't fault you for that.  Granted, Hunter's not the most reasonable of men.  But he's different with you.  You've said so yourself.  And I've even seen it first hand," Stacy pointed out.

"That's true.  But I don't even know if he meant to say that or if it was a knee-jerk reaction.  God, there's no way I'd hold him to that statement made in a hospital room."

"Statement?  I thought he asked you," Stacy commented, confusion clear on her pretty face.

Nan shook her head.  "Not really.  He just said Marry me.  It wasn't a question."

"More like an order.  Or a demand."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter to me."

Stacy lifted a sculpted brow at her.  "Don't hand me that.  You hate being told what to do.  You even get down right violent about it."

"It really didn't matter, Stace.  Honestly."

Stacy stared at her friend, and it suddenly clicked in her head.  "My God…you really wanted to say yes, but you're scared to because of what happened to Bobby.  Aren't you?"

"Yes!"  Nan covered her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking silently.  "I know it's stupid.  And I know it's not realistic.  But I can't separate Bobby asking me to marry him and then a few days later…his illness.  And then dying on me..."

"Hon, he didn't die because he wanted to marry you," Stacy murmured.

"I know that.  Here."  She pointed to her head, then lowered her hand to her chest.  "But not here.  Here they're one and the same."

"You still love Bobby."  Stacy pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Of course I do.  In some way."  Nan sighed, now feeling worse than she did before.  "I don't love lightly or easily.  Bobby was my first real love.  There'll always be a place in my heart for him."

Stacy nodded understanding too well what she was talking about.  "Have you told Hunter about Bobby yet?"

"He already knows."  At her friend's disbelieving look, she explained.  "Turns out he's always known.  About Bobby.  And about the coliseum.  Shawn used to read my letters to him when they rode together."

"That little weasel!"

Nan actually laughed at that.  "Yeah, that's what I said too.  He tried for years  to get the two of us together.  He wrote to me about Hunter and read my letters to him.  Quite the matchmaker, huh?"

"He always did have a wide romantic streak."  Stacy grinned.  She phrased her next question as delicately as she could.  "You say he knows about Bobby and the coliseum.  Hunter wants a family.  What about…the issue of children." 

  "That's my only bright spot right now."  Nan's face lit up with the first genuine smile Stacy had seen since her arrival.  "I always thought I couldn't have kids.  But I found out that they were wrong.  I can."

"How's that possible?  I mean, you told me you had too many problems to have children."

"Medicine has come a long way, I guess.  Dr. Carlton said there'd be risks, but I can have a family if I want to," Nan answered dismissively.

"Nan," Stacy frowned.  "What kind of risks?"

Nan shrugged.  "We didn't discuss it.  No point really, until the time comes."

"Does Hunter know about this?"

"No.  We've never even really talked about the future in general terms, much less specific ones."

Stacy shook her head, not really surprised at her friend's answer.  She knew Hunter well enough to know that he had plenty of reasons to be gun-shy about anything pertaining to his future.  Especially on the subject of marriage and family.  Stacy wanted nothing more than to sit the two of them down in a room, preferably a heavily padded one, clunk their heads together, and then lock them in until they'd worked this mess out.

"You two really need to talk this out."

"I know," Nan conceded.  "But I can't say yes, at least not until he knows it all."

"All?  What else is there, Nan?"

Nan looked hard at Stacy.  "I…I can't say." 

Stacy pulled back from her, hurt on her face.  "I didn't mean to stick my nose in."

"Oh, Stace.  Please don't be like that."  Nan cried, reaching for her friend's hand.  "It's not like I don't want to tell you.  I just can't.  Please believe me."

Stacy studied the conflict on the redhead's face for a moment before finally nodding and giving Nan's hand a squeeze.  "Okay then.  I believe you.  But you know, you can tell me anything and it'll stay between us.  Cross my heart."

"You can bet I'll take you up on that the moment I'm able.  Thank you."  Nan reached out and gave the blonde woman a hug.  "And the same goes for me, you know."

"I know."  She returned Nan's hug and nodded when they pulled apart.  "God, but we're a pair, huh?"   

"A pair of what is the more likely question."

"Hunter's right.  You are a brat."  Stacy stuck her tongue out at her.  "And, on the risk of really pissing you off, I say that even thought Hunter knows about the coliseum and Bobby, from Shawn's probably edited version of your letters, that he still needs to hear it from you.  And, you really can't wait on the children issue anymore.  If having a family is that important to both of you, and if having that family puts your health at risk, then he's got a right to know beforehand, Nan.  Not telling him would be just…wrong."

Nan sighed, knowing her friend was right.  She still wasn't ready.  But she was also running out of time.  "And terminally stupid."

"Agreed," she nodded.  "It would be beneath you to pull something like that.  It reeks of Steph."

"Now that was below the belt."  Nan protested with a dark scowl.

"So tell him."  Stacy grinned back.

"I will.  But how do I bring this up?"  Nan got a sarcastic look on her face.  "Oh gee, Hunter.  I said no, but I meant yes, and here's a whole pile of shit explaining why I said no in the first place.  Come on!"

"Well, I'd leave off the gee part, but the rest is a good place to start.  You love him right?"

"Don't be stupid.  You know I do," Nan responded tersely.

"Look, from where I stand, you handed yourself to him on a silver platter two years ago.  No strings.  No commitments.  And no effort on his part to win you."

"I don't follow."

"Nan, Hunter is fiercely competitive.  In all aspects of his life," Stacy pointed out.  "And you've never made him work to keep you at all.  Okay, except for that one fight.  But even then you gave in the minute he showed up.  Maybe he needs to think he needs to actively pursue you for once."

"Are you telling me not to tell him?"

"No, not at all.  Tell him everything you can,"  Stacy tried to clarify her meaning.  "Just don't tell him yes.  Make him work for it.  That way, you'll know if he meant what he said, and that it wasn't just because he was scared shitless that you were gonna die.  Because he was."

Nan hesitated, thinking for a moment to let Stacy's words sink in.  "Stacy Kiebler.  That was positively evil.  And a bit dishonest, don't you think?"

"I do not."  She protested, with mock outrage.  "Human beings in general treasure those things they have to work the hardest for.  And while some would deny that Hunter is human at all, he's no different from the rest of us in that area.  Besides what could it hurt?"

"I don't know," Nan murmured.  "I don't like using chicanery.  It's not my style."

"You're over thinking this.  Stop it," Stacy admonished.  "I'm not talking about chicanery, subterfuge, or deception in any way.  I'm just saying, explain yourself and then leave it alone.  If it was a knee-jerk reaction, things will stay just the same between you guys as they are now, except that he'll know the deal from your perspective.  Which he needs to know anyway.  And if it wasn't a spur of the moment thing, and he did mean it, then he'll have to step up his game, so to speak, and prove it to you.  Everyone wins."

"Maybe," Nan pondered what her friend had said. 

+ + +
 

Hunter stalked down the corridor to Nan's room, with purpose in his stride.  He waived absently at the nurses, noting the flowers from Nan's room all lined up on the desk in the middle of the hallway.  Evidently she was ready to go and he was late.  Dave had given him a lot to think about, especially concerning Randy.  But that's not what his mind was currently dwelling on.  It was that last question Dave had asked before he left.

Did you mean it?

He didn't know.  Well, yeah, he'd meant it at the time.  Now…he wasn't so sure.  But he wasn't sure why he wasn't sure.  Marriage made logical sense.  They already lived together.  He knew they got along well.  They knew each other's boundaries and when the other needed some time to themselves.  She didn't nag at him about quitting the business like so many of the guys' wives or girlfriends did.  She accepted him for who and what he was.  And he liked to think he did the same for her.  He couldn't conceive of the idea of not having her in his life.  He loved her.  She loved him.  It should have been that simple. 

But it wasn't. 

He'd been married before, and he'd been miserable in it.  His marriage had ended horribly, almost costing him his career.  Nan had almost been married before.  And her fiancé had died, leaving her alone after spending miserable years watching him slip away from her.  To say they both had issues regarding marriage was a gross understatement.  But the question came unbidden to his mind again.

Did you mean it?

It doesn't matter anyway.  She said no, he argued with himself.

She would have married Bobby although he was dying, right?

She told Shawn she would have.

Then why did she say no to you?

I…I don't know.

Maybe you'd better find out.

"God, I'm going insane," Hunter muttered, rubbing his forehead.  "Standing outside of a hospital room arguing with myself."

Sighing and giving himself a good mental shake, Hunter moved to push the door open.  He stopped at the sound of Nan talking to someone in the room. 

+ + +

 "To be honest, I think he thinks I don't remember him saying it."

"Well, there's your out, right there."  Stacy remarked.  "If he thinks you don't remember, then it's like he never said it.  He's off the hook.  And so are you.  Unless, you really do want to marry him?"

"What kind of question is that?" 

"A realistic one," Stacy responded.  "I know your parents married when they were really young and have been together for what?  Almost fifty years now?  But honey, they're the rarity in today's day and age.  Most everyone you know comes from either a broken home or a severely dysfunctional one.  Present company included.  And Hunter too.  Marriage ain't all it's cracked up to be."

"Stacy, I'm not some starry-eyed teenager with a Cinderella complex," Nan protested.  "I used to be, but that girl died a long, long time ago.  I know very well that Prince Charming's armor is tarnished, the white stallion was sent to the glue factory and marriage doesn't solve anything.  I don't believe in fairytale happy endings.  I haven't for a long time."

"I wouldn't go quite that far."

"I would."  Nan avowed firmly.  "The worst reason in the world to marry someone is because you're in love with them.  I know that.  Love isn't a feeling.  It's a choice.  A verb.  Something you actively choose to do.  If it's based solely on that butterfly in your stomach feeling, then it's gonna die tragically, and probably messily too.  You need both to make the relationship work.  The feeling and the choice."

"And that's how you feel about Hunter?  Choosing to love him, you mean?  'Cause I know you've got the butterflies thing down pat."

"Yeah," Nan nodded with a lascivious grin.  "That man can just look at me a certain way and I can't breathe right, my heart skips beats, and my stomach drops into my feet.  And I'd love nothing better than to mount him in a broom closet.  But at the same time?  I can roll over in bed with him some mornings, look at him lying there and he just looks…"

"Stupid," Stacy finished, smiling, bursting into a giggle.

"Yeah, exactly."  Nan laughed with her.  "But that's where the choice part kicks in.  Lord knows when we're fighting, and both of our tempers are up, and we're saying hateful shit to each other, the last thing I feel is butterflies.  That in love feeling."

"But you love him anyway," Stacy added, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Precisely."  Nan agreed, then fixed Stacy with a firm look.  "But don't you ever tell him I said any of that.  My grandmother always told me that having a man knowing the true depth of your feelings for him was a bad thing."

"And you believed her?"

"No," Nan shrugged.  "But why take the chance?"

"So….you do want to marry him then," Stacy steered the topic back on course.

"Yes.  I do."

Stacy laughed.  "Sounds like to me then, that you'd better get used to saying that."

"You're terrible!"

It was Stacy's turn to shrug.  "What can I say?  You're starting to rub off on me." 

+ + + 

Hunter stood dumbfounded outside of the hospital room.  He'd heard every single word.  Not only did she remember what he'd said, but she did want to marry him.  A liquid warm feeling filled his belly, pulling a smile out of the scowl he'd been wearing.  She loved him and she did want to be his wife. 

Images began running through his head.  Growing old together, like they'd talked about on the beach.  Raising a family together.  Children with her.  A little boy just like him…ooh, bad idea…no wait…a little girl with Nan's hair and her devilish streak.  His wife.  His wife.  His.  Hunter's smile widened.  Maybe he had meant it.  Then that voice in his head kicked in again.

But she said no. 

Yeah, she'd said no.  And he still wasn't sure he'd really meant it.  Now he was more confused than he had been to start out with.  What in the hell was going on with her? 

Maybe you'd better find out.

"Shut up."  He growled softly.  "You're making me nuts."

"Now, what was it that you were gonna tell me?"  Stacy's voice caught his attention.  "That thing Hunter can do with his…."

"Oh, hell no," Hunter muttered.

The door swung open suddenly startling both women.  Both turned to see Hunter striding in with a wide warm smile on his face, carrying a beautiful spray of purple and dark red pansies, artfully arranged in a delicate white tea pot with burgundy trim.

"Hey Legs!  Looking good!"  Hunter flashed her a wicked grin.

Stacy grinned back at him, her cheeks tingeing a delicate shade of pink.  "Hey Hunter.  We were just talking about you."

"You were?"  Hunter asked, his eyes wide, feigning innocence.  "Good things, I hope."

"You know it."  Stacy gave an evil chuckle earning her a stern glance from Nan.

"Buffy."  She growled.

"Oh hush up, Faith.  You're not fooling anyone.  I know your bark is worse than your bite."

"I wouldn't say that.  You've never been bitten by her.  Have you?"  Hunter's whisky eyes danced, and then heated up as they fell on Nan.  She sat upright in the hospital bed, dressed in the clothes he'd brought yesterday when they'd told him she'd be going home today.  And she had a stuffed wolf on her lap.  His gaze lingered, and he licked his lips.  He watched her carefully, seeing the flush start up from the neckline of her blouse, working it's way up to her cheeks.  Her lips parted slightly and he knew she was getting that butterfly feeling he'd heard her talk about. 

"Hey, baby,"  he growled low at her as he crossed to stand on the opposite side of the bed.

"Hi," she answered breathlessly, her stomach dropping into her feet, just as she told Stacy it did.

Hunter grinned.  Oh yeah, that little nugget of information was going to be pure gold.  He presented the teapot to her.  "Even if they do die, you can still enjoy the teapot."

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, touched that he remembered how much she loved both teapots and the delicate flowers inside of it.  "They're beautiful."

Hunter leaned down, cupped the back of her head in his hand, threading his fingers through her hair, and whispered, "Not as beautiful as you." 

Before she could say anything, he lowered his  lips to hers and caressed them with his own, moving them softly against hers.  His kiss was hot and demanding, yet light and tender at the same time.  But with enough heat to ignite the air around them.  She dropped her hold on the stuffed wolf cub, and wound her free hand into the strands of hair he'd pulled back into a ponytail, savoring the silky texture against her skin.  As the kiss lingered, Nan could feel the strength leaving her limbs.  Her pulse jumped and her heart started to race.  His mouth soothed and demanded, offered and possessed, until she felt dizzy with conflicting sensations.  She sighed softly and leaned into him.  As always, he tasted purely of hot male, and pent up passion, screaming at its leash to get free.  Instinctively, she responded, until Stacy cleared her throat.

With what appeared to be a supreme effort, Hunter pulled his lips from Nan's and stood up.  He cleared his throat, with a smile.  But his eyes told her he was completely and utterly unrepentant.  "Sorry.  Kind of got carried away there."

"Don't stop on my account.  I should be going anyway.  Gotta get packed, ya know."

The door opened again and an orderly came in with a wheelchair. 

"Ah, here's my ride."  Nan grinned.

"Ready to go, Miss Elliott?"

"Beyond ready."

"Here, let me take those,"  Stacy offered, reaching out for the teapot and wolf cub.  Nan handed them over and Stacy scooped up the book Nan had been reading.  She looked up to see the orderly helping Nan into the wheelchair with Hunter hovering close beside her.

"Anything else, baby?"  Hunter asked as he picked up the bag of medicine and prescriptions on the bedside table.

"Nope.  Just me.  I've already signed off on all the forms.  Lead on, William."

The orderly pushed her out of the room and down the hall with Hunter and Stacy bringing up the rear.  The four of them lapsed into an easy silence.  Stacy and William waited with her while Hunter brought up the car at the front of the hospital.  Once the red Hummer had come to a stop, Hunter loped down out of it and came around to open the passenger door.  William leaned in to help Nan up, but Hunter stopped him.

"I've got her this time."  Before the orderly could protest about hospital policy, Hunter scooped her up out of the chair and lifted her easily into his arms.  He crossed the few steps to the SVU and deposited her gently into the front seat.  He fussed with the seatbelt for a moment, and Stacy couldn't help but smile at him.  With a last waive, the orderly turned and pushed the empty chair back through the hospital doors.

Hunter shut the door and turned back to Stacy, taking the teapot, book, and toy.  He passed the cub and book to Nan through the window she'd rolled down, and moved to set the flowers on the floorboard behind her seat.

"Thanks, Stacy."  Nan called out of the window as Hunter stood back up.

"Yeah.  Thanks, Legs." 

"Anytime, Hunter,"  On impulse she hugged him. 

Surprised, he returned it.  "What was that for?"

She smiled and waived her hand dismissively.  "You take good care of her."

They shared an intense look, and Hunter nodded.  "I will."

"I'll see you two in Toronto, right?"

Nan nodded as Hunter walked back around to the driver's side.  "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Yeah, you've got that Diva Dodgeball thing, right?"  Hunter chuckled leaning up over the truck.

Stacy rolled her eyes.  "Don't remind me."

Nan gestured her forward as Hunter took his seat and fired up the engine.  When Stacy was close enough, she whispered, "Do me a favor."

"What?"

"Break Hemme's leg if you can."

Stacy stepped back from the car, her laughter echoing  in the air as Hunter and Nan peeled away from the curb. 

~<>~

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right
       You May Be Right - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 12:45 p.m.
Tina's Basement Apartment, Hunter & Nan's House - Greenwich, CT 

"You're just pissed because you lost to your girlfriend.  Again."  Dave grinned as he, Tina, and Hurricane walked into the kitchen of Tina's apartment.

Tina flashed a warm smile at the big man as Hurricane slumped down into a chair at the small table in the middle of the kitchen.  "Well, duh!  But he's the one who keeps asking to play."

Dave spun a chair around backward, then straddled it.  "How much do you owe her now, Flash?"

"Five hundred.  Not that it's any business of yours."  Hurricane groused.

"Maybe not.  But it's still funny as hell."

"She beat you too, if I remember correctly," Hurricane fired back.

"Yeah, she did."  Dave agreed with a sly look.  "But I wasn't the one she made sign an I.O.U."

Smiling, Tina leaned up against the counter, looking fresh, young, and very appealing in a sleeveless pink button-down blouse and white shorts.  She flipped her honey-blonde hair off her shoulders, folded her arms over her chest, and crossed her bare feet at the ankles. 

Fixing them each with a stern look, she asked,  "Do I need to separate you two?"

Hurricane grinned and stood up, crossing the room, to fold his arms around her.  "No," he pressed a quick kiss to the end of her nose.  "I've gotta go anyway.  Even though I'm not on the card for Summer Slam, I'm still supposed to be there.  I'll call you."  He covered her lips with his in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Gimme a break.  Not on an empty stomach, okay kids?"  Dave grumbled.

Hurricane pulled away from the young woman and threw a grin over his shoulder at the big man.  "Jealous?"

"In your dreams, Torch."

The younger man moved towards the door.  "You stay away from my girl.  Or face the Hurricane's wrath."

Dave grinned at him, leaning over the back of the chair with a wicked glint in his eyes.  "Riddler, if I wanted to put the moves on Tina, you couldn't stop me."

Tina laughed at them both.  "But I could."

Dave looked over at her, his memory providing the vivid image of her facing down her ex-boyfriend with a pistol held far too comfortably in her hands for his liking.  "Yeah, okay, you probably could.  But he couldn't."

Hurricane grinned, then looked over at Tina who still stood at the sink.  "Give Nan my best.  See you later, angel."  He walked out of the door, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.

Tina, hearing a loud rumble, looked over at Dave.  "Empty stomach?"

"I could eat."

"Want a sandwich?  I've got roast beef."

"Sure."  Dave grinned at her.  "Need some help?"

"Nah," Tina shook her head as she began pulling food from the refrigerator.  "This kitchen isn't big enough for the both of us."

He laughed.  "Does that mean I have to meet you in the front yard at high noon?"

"Nut!"  She smiled at him over her shoulder, thoroughly enjoying his teasing.  Aware of his eyes tracking her movements, she grinned wider.  His watching her didn't make her nervous like she thought it might.  He did that with just about everyone.  Always aware of everyone and everything around him, even when it didn't look like he was paying any attention at all. 

She liked Dave.  A lot.  He was funny, smart, and easy to talk to.  And he seemed to enjoy her company as well.  It was weird, but she felt like she'd known him a lot longer than just the past two weeks.  Of course, it didn't hurt that Dave was hot as hell, either.  Then again, she could say the same things about Shane, too. 

Tina set about making their lunch with a smile on her face.  Shortly, she set a monstrosity of a sandwich, sliced neatly in half, in front of him, followed by a tall glass of iced tea.  She came back to the table with a smaller version of the same sandwich for herself and a bag of kettle chips. 

Dave took a hearty bite of the sandwich and made an appreciative noise.  "God, that's good."

"Hungry, huh?"

"Always."  He took a drink of his tea and set the glass back on the table.  "So, does being a card shark run in your family or something?  'Cause if it does, Nan should sue.  She's terrible at poker."

Tina laughed, wiping her mouth with a napkin.  "Yeah, she's pretty bad.  But most of us are good at some sort of wagering."

"Do tell."  Dave crunched down on the pickle spear she'd laid on his plate.

"Well," she murmured around another bite, hiding her mouth with her hand.  "Grandpa is the card shark.  So I must get it from him.  But Grandma is a whiz at bridge.  Dad's game is darts.  Angela will kill you at Ping-Pong.  And never play pool with Uncle Brun for money.  He'll skin you alive."

"If I ever meet him, I'll be sure and remember that." 

"You'd like Uncle Brun."  Tina declared firmly.  "You're a lot a like in some ways."

"What about Nan?  What's she good at?"

"Pinball."

"You're kidding me," Dave stared at her.

Tina giggled.  "Nope.  She hustled a hundred and fifty bucks out of her church youth group during their summer beach trip.  But her boyfriend made her give it back."

Dave laughed at that image.  "A boy-scout, huh?"

"Sorta.  She was dating the youth minister.  He said it'd look bad for his position." 

"I can see that."  Dave nodded.  "She dated her youth minister?  How old was she?"

"Seventeen.  He was twenty-three."

"Bet that went over well with the family," he murmured.

She shrugged.  "It didn't last long.  Nettie was pretty wild in those days."

Dave thought for a moment.  "How do you know all of this?  You were just a little kid."

Tina looked up at him.  "Some families take pictures, or videos.  We tell stories.  You ought to hear some of them.  It's a wonder any of my aunts or uncles ever made it to adulthood."

"How so?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

Tina pushed back away from the table.  "Okay. Let's see.  Uncle Brun chased Angela around the house with a loaded pistol once, intending to shoot her if she would've stood still long enough.  One time Angela threw a blanket over Dad and beat him with plastic baseball bat.  But she says that was because he wrapped a bullwhip around her legs.  And Nettie broke Uncle Brun's nose when she was really little.  Punched him dead in the face for messing up a song she was singing."

Dave stared at her with wide eyes.  "You're serious."

"As a heart attack."

"You people aren't normal," Dave rumbled, going back to his lunch.

"Define normal," Tina challenged.

He stopped in mid chew and mumbled,  "Good point."

They finished their lunch in an easy silence.  Once Tina began clearing the plates away, Dave stood up to help her.  Despite the kitchen's small size, they moved around it together with a surprising naturalness, passing dishes, and food back and forth like they'd done it for years.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"  Dave teased.

"You're pretty light on your feet for a big guy."

"You ought to see me dance."  Dave put one hand in the air, and the other on his stomach and glided back and forth in place in some odd sort of waltz step.

Tina laughed brightly.  "Desert?"

He made a grumbling noise deep in his throat.  "Whatcha got?"

"Peanut butter cookies?"

"Homemade?"

"Is there any other kind worth eating?"  Tina grinned, pulling a small footstool over to the refrigerator, and stepped up on it, stretching for the teddy bear shaped cookie jar on the top.

Dave turned back around and laid the dishtowel on the counter.  A loud crack caught his attention and he whirled around just in time to see Tina wobble as her the tips of her fingers just caught the jar's edge. 

"Tina!"

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  The leg of the footstool split in half, sending both Tina and the cookie jar hurtling towards the floor.  Dave lunged for the young woman, as a surprised squeak escaped her lips.  He caught her just in time, scooping her high up into his arms, as the ceramic jar exploded on the floor, sending thousands of razor sharp shards and bits of cookie up into the air.  Instinctively, Tina wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight, her lithe frame trembling at her near fall.  Dave held her tightly for a moment, breathing heavily, more scared than he realized.

"You okay?"  His voice was husky and deep; his dark eyes fixed firmly on her face.

Tina nodded shakily.  Then she looked up at him, her eyes locked onto his.  They stared at each other for a moment, a tangible heat and tension between them, sending the temperature in the room up several degrees.

"Oh hell," Dave growled just before lowering his mouth to cover hers, pausing a moment before pressing his lips lightly against her own.  He lingered there, the kiss close-mouthed and achingly gentle, as he traced the outline of her mouth. His tongue flitted out, and he flicked it gently along the line separating her lips, announcing his intention.

Incapable of rational thought, she did the only thing that made sense to her.  With a sigh that bordered on a moan, Tina melted against him, opening her mouth under his to welcome him in.

~<>~

I wouldn't leave you in times of trouble
We never could have come this far
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times
I'll take you just the way you are
       Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 1:33 p.m.
Hunter & Nan's House - Greenwich, CT 

Hunter sat half-reclining in the immense black leather chair in the living room with Nan curled against him.  She had a knee wedged between his, with her check pressed against the warm skin of his chest, where his dress shirt was unbuttoned.  One arm was wrapped around his waist, her hand hidden behind the sides of his open shirt.  The only sound in the room was of her even breathing.  He was tired, but his mind wouldn't let him sleep, although she was back where she belonged.

They'd had a long talk when they'd gotten home.  He wanted her to rest, but she'd been adamant, insisting that she had to tell him something.  So they settled into his chair, and she'd talked…and talked…and talked.  It had taken her nearly an hour and a half to tell him all of it, but he'd listened to every word, rarely making any comments at all, knowing she had to get it out. 

He'd found out all about Bobby Wallace.  Some things he'd known and a lot that he hadn't.  How they met her junior year in high school, how he'd helped her through her grandfather's death, his time in the military - what she could tell him of it, and how he'd proposed the minute he came home from Desert Storm.  He'd heard about on the night of their wedding rehearsal how he'd collapsed into a violent seizure, and that the subsequent examination revealed he had an inoperable brain tumor.  The postponement of the wedding, and it's eventual cancellation.  Then the years he spent ignoring his illness, determined to be the best police officer her small hometown had ever seen, followed by his death.  And finally how in her head his death and their engagement had wrapped itself up together, until she had a deep fear of marriage.

She'd moved on from there to explain that she'd spent most of her life thinking she couldn't have children due to some female problems.  She'd apologized profusely for not telling him sooner, but explained that she hadn't allowed herself to think in long-range terms as far as they were concerned.  That had hit him hard, until she also told him that she'd recently found out she could have a family but there would be risks of an unnamed nature involved.  But at least it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.

She'd talked a bit about her grandfather, how she'd lost her mind when he was diagnosed with lung cancer when she was fourteen.  And how she'd started rebelling against everything and any version of authority around her.  By the time he died when she was seventeen, she'd settled down a bit, again, due to Bobby.  And Shawn.  And she finished her tale with explaining how she met Naitch, when she was six, and the accident that had happened the following year.

That was the hardest thing for Hunter to handle.  The images his mind spun while she talked were far too vivid.  Nan as a little girl, adoring Ric Flair, and following him everywhere whenever he was in her grandfather's coliseum.  Evidently the adoration had gone both ways since Ric had encouraged her hero worship.  Hunter could see that.  Ric had been very young at the time, first getting started in the business, and he was away from his own little girl an awful lot back then.  But the images turned bloody when she told him how she'd gotten hurt.

Ric had been yelling at a ring-rat that'd found her way into his dressing room and was dragging her out of the building.  Furious that the unnamed tramp could have cost him his spot with the Crockets, he'd kicked the door open not knowing that Nan had been behind it.  The door had caught her in the temple and split her eye open.  The force of his kick had sent her tumbling down the stairs where she landed on a wooden pallet that immediately splintered under her sudden weight.  The fall had knocked the wind out of her lungs so she couldn't cry out and she couldn't see from all of the blood on her face.  Ric had told her not to move trying to get to her, but frightened, she leaned up for him, and jostled a metal equipment box, sending it crashing down onto her.  The box was full and heavy.  It had crushed her foot, broken her ankle and her leg in two different places.  And luckily for her, it had knocked her out cold too.

All of that had been horrible enough for him to hear, but what cut him to the quick was hearing that she never saw Ric again after that fall.  Ric had broken his back in an airplane crash the next day, but even when he'd recovered, he never came to see her.  Not even to make sure she was okay.  Hunter knew why, having been witness to the fight between Ric and Nan's father in the waiting room the day of her surgery.  But he didn't say a word, feeling she shouldn't hear something like that from him.  So, Nan explained that when they'd met up again in 2000, and Ric didn't remember her at all, it had opened up all of those old wounds, the emotional ones anyway.  And their infamous fighting had begun.

Hunter hadn't said much during her recitation, preferring to let her get it all out.  When she'd gone silent, he'd asked her if that was everything she needed him to know.  She surprised him.  She'd said no, again.  But the things she hadn't told him about were things she wasn't at liberty to discuss due to a court order preventing her from doing so.  Oddly enough, that answer hadn't surprised him overmuch, knowing that owning a building the size of the Harrell Coliseum, in the business of public entertainment, often came with a slew of different court documents and prohibitions against disclosure.  So he hadn't pressed.

Besides, by that point, he was pretty saturated with information he hadn't been expecting, and was even feeling a little guilty.  Mainly because there were a few things that she should probably know about him as well, and he'd not told her yet either.  Like his parents, among other things.  She'd never met his mother.  And he didn't want her to.  Not because of her, but more because of his mother. As was par for the course when Hunter began thinking of his mother, he tensed up.

She moved slightly, neither awake nor fully asleep, sensing his unease.  "Hunter…?" she murmured, her voice slurred with sleep.

"Shhh," he said, stroking her hair soothingly.  "Go back to sleep, baby.  Everything's all right.  You're home."

She sighed and relaxed into his warmth.  Hunter echoed her sigh, closing his eyes, and leaned over to the side, resting his cheek on her head.  Mary Katherine Hearst-Helmsley, called Kit by her social set.  His mother.  He hadn't spoken to that woman in almost four years.  But a deep and painful twisting in his gut told him that was about to change.  And probably much sooner than he would like. 

~<>~

It's just a fantasy
It's not the real thing
It's just a fantasy
It's not the real thing
But sometimes a fantasy
Is all you need
       Sometimes A Fantasy - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 1:35 p.m.
Tina's Apartment - Hunter & Nan's House - Greenwich, CT 

Tina stood staring in her bathroom mirror, scrutinizing the face peering back at her.  She didn't look any different.  Okay, so there was still a tint of green bruising around that one eye and her lips were a little swollen.  And her cheeks were flushed.  Aside from that, she still looked like the same old Tina.

But she wasn't.  And she knew it.

Absently she traced her lips with her fingertips.  She could still feel his mouth on hers, taste his kiss, feel the scrape of that tuft of hair he called a beard against her chin.  Her nose was still filled with the scent of his cologne, and her arms goose-pimpled up remembering the feel of his hands on her skin.

With a whimper, she closed her eyes.  But that only made the images grow more vivid.  Perversely, she savored each one, reliving the heat between them.  The sudden ringing of the phone popped her eyes open.  Frozen, she waited, unable to move into the bedroom to answer it.  After three rings, the answering machine clicked on.

Hi, this is Tina.  I'm not able to answer your call right now, but if you'll leave a message, I'll call you back.  Thanks.  Bye!

"Hey, angel."  Hurricane's voice chuckled into the room.  "I guess you're out soaking up some rays.  I just wanted to remind you to pack a party dress.  I'm figuring that with Summer Slam being in Edge's hometown that the Canadian Contingency will wanna go out or something after the show.  Maybe we'll get to see Fozzy perform.  Thought you'd like to go.  I'll talk to you later, angel.  Bye."

Tina felt her stomach lurch up into her throat.  Shane.

She was in deep trouble.  Dear God, what had she done? 

~<>~

And all that means is that I'm running on ice
Caught in a vise so strong
I'm slipping and sliding, cause I'm running on ice
Where did my life go wrong
You've got to run
Running On Ice - Billy Joel

August 13, 2004 1:37 p.m.
Hunter's Gym - Hunter & Nan's House - Greenwich, CT 

Concentrating on the rhythmic slap of his feet hitting the treadmill, Dave ran.  And ran.  And ran.  Like the hounds of hell were on his heels.  But he couldn't run fast enough or far enough to erase the memory of what had happened between he and Tina.

God, he was an idiot, he castigated himself.  And he had no idea how it had happened.  All knew was one minute she was falling, getting ready to smash her head in on the broken pottery shards all over the kitchen floor.  The next minute she was in his arms, warm, soft, and looking up at him with those incredible blue eyes.  And then those sinful lips parted.

With a groan he switched off the machine and stepped off it, moving over to the sandbag hanging from one corner.  Without taping his hands, and like a man possessed, he began punching the bag repeatedly, seeing his own face on the squared off target.  No matter how hard he hit his own image, he still couldn't purge the memory.  He redoubled his efforts, no longer pulling his blows, pounding the bag with all he was worth.

Slam!

He still remembered the look in her eyes as she stared at him…

Slam!

…how her body had fit against his…

Slam!

…how soft her skin had felt against his hands…

Slam!

…how her hair smelled of jasmine… 

Slam!

…and the little moan she'd made when she'd first started to kiss him back still burned in his ears.

Slam!

When his fist went through the heavy canvas, he stopped, pulling his fist out.  Dazed, he stood there and watched as the sand filling the bag began to spill out onto the floor. 

Hunter was gonna kill him.  That was, of course, if Nan didn't get to him first.

Some minutes later, Dave looked down at his knuckles. 

They were bleeding. 

~<>~

I've done some strange things I never thought I'd do before
But if the strain brings happiness, more or less...
Then I don't mind masquerading with all those other fools
I don't mind the games I'm playing,
Because I've learned the rules
And when times are tough, I've got just enough
If you're standing right by my side
Darling more and more I get hungry for
All the ways you keep me satisfied
On our own there ain't nothing that we can't get thru
But when in Rome, do as the Romans do
       When In Rome - Billy Joel

August 14, 2004 8:43 a.m.
Renaissance Toronto Hotel Gym- Toronto, Ontario, Canada 

"One more like that and we can call it a day."

"It hurts, Hunter."

He fought down a grin, at the pout in her voice.  "I know it does, baby.  But if you want to be out of this chair in two weeks, you need to start working on getting some strength back in your ankle.  Just one more now; come on."

They were alone in the hotel gym.  Nan lay on her back on a massage table, leaning up on her elbows.  She had a rolled up towel under one calf and with the arch of her right foot in the palm of Hunter's hand.  His other hand was pressed down lightly on her knee to keep her leg straight.  She was supposed to move that foot up towards her body, hold it there for a six-count, then move it slowly downward as far into a full flex as she could get, holding it again for a six-count, ending by returning the ankle into the original position.

Her foot was extremely stiff and sore, and the movement was very limited, but she was able to move it some.  Screwing up her face, she gritted her teeth, and bent her ankle.

"One…two…three…four…five…six.  Very good.  Now down."  Hunter encouraged her.  She moved it a fraction, the plantarflexion being much more difficult as the skin was stretched tight across the staples holding her incision closed.  Hunter began counting again.  "One…two…three…"

He stopped abruptly as a sharp gasp escaped Nan's lips.  "Okay…that's enough.  Relax it slowly…slowly now."

Nan did as he instructed, but the small gasp of pain turned into a hiss.  Hunter could feel her leg tense up under his hand.  His eyes flicked to her face, seeing her biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes tightly closed, her fists clenched against the padded table.

"Cramp?"

She nodded, "Mmm-hmm."

"Okay, try and relax now."  Hunter slid his fingers around the back of her knee, skimming them down her calf until he found the knot.  With quick firm motions, he massaged the sore spot until he could feel the muscle relax.  "There you are.  All better."

"We really should check into getting your fingers licensed.  Or insured or something."  Running her hand over her face, Nan gazed up at him with a tired smile.

Hunter flashed her a wicked grin.  "You're biased."

"So?"  She shrugged.  "I'm also right."

"You did all six your first day out.  Very nice."

"Five and a half," she corrected.

"Don't quibble.  I'm in charge of your exercises right now and I say you did well."

She ducked her head and peered up at him through her lashes.  "Well enough to stop now?"

Hunter laughed outright at that.  "Yeah, I think we're done for the day."

"Oh, thank God."  With a relieved exhalation, Nan slumped back until she was lying down fully on the table.

"You know it's only going to get harder from here on in."

Nan licked her lips slowly, with intent.  "I'm counting on it."

Hunter's whiskey eyes darkened, snapping with desire.  He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders, flat against the table and lowered his face until it was only inches from hers.  "Wicked, wicked woman." 

Before she could speak, Hunter grazed his lips across hers, teasing her with soft, sensual kisses, breaking each one as she began to respond, then diving back down before she could catch her breath. 

Growing frustrated with his teasing, Nan curled a hand behind his neck.  "Throw me up against a wall, and lay one on me like you mean it, but don't tease me," she whispered against his lips.

Hunter grinned at her.  "Later."  He swooped in once more, stealing her breath, and nipping at her lips with his teeth before pulling back.

"Evil bastard," she muttered breathing heavily.

He only chuckled at her epithet.  The rise and fall of her chest drew his attention.  He swirled a finger around the silver 'H' necklace, glad to see it back in its proper place.  Nan lay utterly still, her lids drooping down at the look of lust on his face.  He drew his fingertip down the cleft between her breasts revealed by her black tank-shirt, sliding it up under the swell of each breast, tickling their sensitive undersides.  His grin widened at her involuntary hiss of breath and hard swallow as he made sure to run the pads of his fingers across both nipples as he pulled his hand away.

"You're gonna pay for that," Nan growled, as Hunter took a step away from where she lay.

"I can afford it," he grinned back at her.

"¡Ay, dios mio!" a laughing voice called from the entrance to the gym.  "Don't you two have a room somewhere for disgusting displays like that, esse?"

"Eddie!"  Nan sat up swiftly, as Eddie Guerrero strolled leisurely into the room.  Swinging her legs over the side, she held out both arms to him.

Latino Heat stepped right up to her and returned her exuberant hug, ignoring Hunter completely.  "Ah, it's been too long, cariña," he said with a smile. 

He stepped back out of the hug, but still held on to her hands, his gaze falling down to her heavily bandaged foot and ankle.  His dark eyes flashed over to where Hunter leaned against the table Nan sat on, his arms folded over his chest, with an unreadable look on his face. 

Without breaking eye contact with The Game, Eddie asked, "¿Hizo él esto a usted?"

"Eddie!"  Nan admonished, her eyes going wide.  "How can you even think that?! ¡Ta vato loco!  No, Hunter did not do this to me!"

Slowly, Hunter's arms lowered, his fingers balling into fists at his thighs, and his lip curled back into the infamous Triple H snarl.  "You got something to say, Guerrero, then you say it to me."

"Hey, back it down, vato.  Last I heard you two were on the outs and here she sits all banged up.  What would you think, eh?"  Eddie dropped Nan's hands and stepped up to Hunter, his voice lowering.  "And believe me, esse, if I had something to say, you wouldn't have to ask.  You'd know, holmes."

"Damnit, both of you stop it!"  Nan snarled at both of them.  "I don't normally get involved in you guys' bullshit squabbles since they're over business.  But goddamnit, this isn't business. And quite frankly if you don't play nice, I'm fucking leaving!"

Hunter and Eddie continued to stare each other down for a moment.  Finally, Eddie's lips quirked upward in a smile.  He shook one hand with a low whistle.  "Fiera has a temper on her, huh?&q