Title:
All That You Are
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution:
Empress' Private Library and
The Wayside Inn All others ask
first.
Rating:
NC17 again bordering or dancing all over a XXX rating – and
if you're shocked about this, you really need to see a therapist.
Characters:
Hunter/Nan; I'm not gonna bother listing them all. Trust me. If
they're on the WWE roster anywhere, there's a good chance they'll
show up somewhere in this one. Oh and a brief appearance of and
Dixie the Wonder Wiener dog – gotta mention my baby, right? Hey, she
really gets her nose out of joint if she doesn’t get mentioned in the
credits. Believe it.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings:
Uhm…sex…foul language. And an appalling lack of plot.
Summary: Ugh…. I hate
writing summaries!! And I'm not gonna do it this time! You wanna know
what happens? Read it!
Author’s Notes:
Scenes
that take place at the Black and White Ball, an idea that I was allowed
to borrow, some of the same wording were used, at the time, with the
permission of the author. Also, the song lyrics quoted, but not
credited, are from Seduces Me by Celine Dion.
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer: Not mine –
theirs. Some are mine and I'm keeping those. No money made. But I'll
gladly pay for maid services this coming week! WrestleMania's this
coming weekend, and I've got a whole slew of people heading my way. And
no time to clean up!!!!! Volunteers can contact me at my email
address. Just make sure you bring rubber wading boots, your own shovel,
and a fumigation truck. Oh, and for those who care, I'm gonna try
again to quit smoking this week, so pray for me. And pray for you
guys too, cuz I get right nasty when I'm going through
withdrawals. Hell, even my HunterMuse hides behind the couch!
On with the show.
Part One: A Man's Home Is His Castle
Take me to your heart
Feel me in your bones
Just one more night
And I’m comin’ off this
Long and winding road
I’m on my way
Well, I’m on my way
Home sweet home
Tonight tonight
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
Home sweet home
Home Sweet Home – Motley Crüe
September 7, 2004 3:41 p.m. EST
Hunter & Nan's House – Greenwich, CT
In exasperation, fighting a tension headache, Nan laid down her pen, and leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with her fingertips, and sighed deeply. She hummed softly along with the music filtering from her MP3 player's portable speakers. She relaxed, letting the steady rhythms of her Big & Rich selection work it's magic on her raw nerves, and unexpectedly heard her own voice quietly singing the lyrics.
"You’re lookin' at me crazy 'cause you think I'm loco…The Big Black Cowboy with the crazy vocal…Todas las personas estan gritando arriva…Now you heard it, now I know you're a believer…Esta cancion es para toda la gente…Es muy importante a usar su mente…"
Hunter had asked her to sing for him someday, and perhaps she would. But she was rusty. Almost seven years rusty and she wasn't sure she had it in her to sing for someone else ever again. But the lyrics pouring out of the speakers were infectious, and she couldn't but help pick them back up again.
"We could be two steppin’ or ravin’ to trance…And when the party is crunk the girls back it up…We’ve got the systems in the cars and the 20’s on the trucks…6’4” with a cowboy hat…I don’t mess around, yo! What’s up with that?"
She wondered briefly, pausing again as the song continued on, what Hunter would say if he could hear her rapping the words to the song. That is, if one could actually rap to country music. Never mind Hunter, what would the self-proclaimed Doctor of Thuganomics say if he could hear her now? John would probably look like someone had tried to feed him raw liver. She might ask him the next time she saw him. After all, he did owe her two hundred dollars over that bet on the Panthers vs. Patriots pre-season game.
"We soooo skunked their candy asses," she chuckled.
Giving in to the music, she pumped one fist in the air and raised her voice, belting out, "Go cowboy! Go cowboy! Go!" God, that was horrible, she thought. She really needed to practice if she would ever consider singing for Hunter.
Giggling at herself, she dropped her hands to dangle her arms lifelessly by her sides. She lifted each shoulder alternately, stretching the stiff muscles, then dropped her head forward, cracking her neck.
"Ow," she groaned as the song ended and slipped into the next one. She sighed again. Opening her eyes, her gaze immediately went to the papers she'd been working on. Just because she could understand legalese didn't mean she enjoyed reading it. She shoved the papers away from her, then reached to pick them back up again with a frown.
"God almighty, Jedi," she grumbled as she wheeled her desk chair over to place the documents on the fax machine. "How many pages does it take to explain to them that they can't use my name or any of my articles without paying for it?"
With short jabbing motions, she punched in the number, then stabbed the send button. She waited until she heard the noise that signified the other line had answered – the Devil's Air Raid Drill, Hunter called it – before pushing off, rolling her chair back over to her desk again.
She lifted a hand to her neck and rubbed the sore knot. She could really go for one of Hunter's neck rubs right about now. But Hunter wasn't home.
About two hours ago, he'd told her he had to run an errand and would be back later. Tina was out tanning herself by the pool, and she'd taken Dixie with her. So that just left Nan in the house by herself. Alone with legal documents, her fears, and her regrets.
Regret. That one was big on her list right now. Her mind traveled back to a week ago. The night she'd lost control. The night she'd slapped Randy hard enough to make him stumble. She didn't regret a word she'd said to the young superstar. But she did regret slapping him.
She really hated losing her temper like that. Arguing was fine. Didn't bother her in the least. But she'd gone further than that, and was ashamed of herself. No one deserved to get struck by another person for merely expressing their opinion. And no matter how wrong he was or how much he'd pissed her off, that was really all he'd done.
Although, while she regretted hitting him, that didn't mean she didn't want to do it again. Because she did. And she was still angry with him. Angry didn't quite cover it, though. Livid would be a better choice of words. So livid, in fact that while she hated herself for slapping him, she also didn't put it past herself not to go after Randy with one of Hunter's sledgehammers.
Grinning to herself over that mental image, Nan sighed, relaxing into her chair and giving over to her truer nature. Sometimes, being a bitch was a hell of a lot of fun.
The ringing of her office line broke into her musings of the numerous ways to splatter Orton all over the arena on Sunday night. She looked over at the Caller ID. Baltimore, Maryland. She grinned, reaching for the phone, but stopped.
That wasn't Stacy's number. Curious, she pressed the stop on her MP3 player, slipped on her headset, and punched the blinking button before the call could go into her voicemail.
"Nan Elliott."
"Really?" Stacy's cheerful voice called over the line. "You sure about that?"
Nan laughed. "Well, if I'm not, someone else is wearing my underwear. What's up with the number, chickie? You're not reduced to calling from a pay phone, are ya?"
"As if," Stacy snorted. "This is my new number. I moved."
"When did this happen?"
"A while back," her friend answered vaguely, but followed it with a giggle.
"Stace," Nan grumbled. "What's going on?"
"Patience, grasshopper. All will be revealed in it's own good time."
Nan rolled her eyes. "I hate it when you get this way."
"I know," Stacy laughed brightly. "That's why I do it."
"And you call me a brat."
"You are a brat."
"That's not the point, and you know it," Nan chuckled. "So what're you up to today?"
"Eh, not much." Stacy answered. "Figured I'd call and razz you a bit. How go things in Helmsleyville? Hunter getting all psyched up for the big showdown on Sunday?"
"I guess," Nan replied pensively. "He's acting weird."
"How so?"
"Dunno," she shrugged. "Like he's up to something."
"When is he not?" Stacy laughed.
Nan grinned, chuckling. "Good point. It's just…he's cooking something up. I'll just be damned if I can figure out what, though."
"Personal or business?"
"Mmmmm, personal…I think," Nan muttered. "We've already discussed his strategy for Unforgiven. So it's gotta be personal."
"Hmmm," Stacy murmured, pondering what the Cerebral Assassin could have up his sleeve this time. "Don't you guys have an anniversary coming up?"
"Sort of. We moved in together two years ago. Today, in fact."
"Maybe that's it." Stacy offered.
Nan nodded thoughtfully before she remembered Stacy couldn't see her. "Could be. But we don't really celebrate those weird little anniversaries like that. You know…anniversary of your fist kiss…first date…crap like that. They seem so…I don't know…high school."
"No they're not," Stacy argued. "They're romantic."
"Hunter…romantic??" Nan scoffed. "Are we talking about the same man?"
"Hey, I'm being serious here! Sounds like to me he's planning a surprise for you."
"Stace, do you know something you aren't telling me?"
Her blonde friend made a rude noise. "Since when does Hunter take me into his confidence?"
Nan laughed, disbelief in her tone. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Lady MacBeth I ain't. That's more your style than mine," Stacy laughed. "Okay. Topic change."
"Go for it," Nan grinned, finding her friend's good mood infectious, her stress over the legal papers draining away.
~<>~
September 7, 2004 4:01 p.m.
EST
731 Laurel Lane – Greenwich, CT
Out of habit, Hunter slowed the red Hummer a fraction as he passed by the entrance to Hilltop, the modest estate where he'd grown up. For one fleeting moment, he fought an urge to turn into the winding paved drive. Frowning at the reflexive reaction, he shifted the gears and pressed harder on the accelerator.
Four years. For long years it had been since he'd severed all ties to his mother. Along with everything she represented. The country and yacht club. The endless trivial charity drives where the so-called charities only received ten percent, or less, of the proceeds – doing absolutely no good for those who really needed it. Yet somehow, the societal elite always seemed to climb higher on the social ladder for throwing those expensive charity balls. Where they were trying to climb to, he'd never figured out.
He'd tried it. But it didn't last. Instead of going on to run Helmsley Enterprises and make a name for himself among the Greenwich ton, he'd changed his major from business admin to graphic design, having loved to draw since he was a small child. While his dad had supported his decision, knowing his son's talents lay elsewhere than in business, his mother had almost popped a vein. He'd lasted only a little while after that.
Finally, after two years of her constant bitching, snide comments, veiled threats and vicious derision, Hunter had dropped out of Harvard and enrolled himself in Killer Kowalski's wrestling school. He'd figured, at the time, that if he had to put up with her and her shit, then at least he could do something he loved in the process.
But four years go, after his father had died, and when Kit had finally seemed to accept her son – only due to his marriage into the prestigious McMahon family – Hunter turned his back on his mother and walked away. With his father and grandmother both gone, he didn't see the need to put up with that woman any longer. Especially when it dawned on him that he'd married a woman just like her.
Yet, every time he passed by the driveway on his way to Stamford, he felt like he should turn in. Even though he had no desire whatsoever to see Kit. No, his mother wasn't the allure of Hilltop for him. It was Lilly. Lilly still lived at Hilltop. And as much as he loved and missed her, he knew he couldn't see her without dealing with his mother. She'd make sure of that.
He began to wonder why he'd stayed in Greenwich. When his father had still been alive, it had made sense. As it had when he and Steph had still been married, with her own family so close by.
A man's home was supposed to be his castle. When you were on the road two hundred plus days a year, your home was also supposed to be your last bastion of sanity. A private sanctuary. Representing safety, solace, and serenity. But his home wasn't even a home. It was a house. Sterile. Cold. Spartan. Intimidating.
In the two years she'd lived with him, Nan had done precious little to change that either. She'd added to the current décor, staying within the monochromatic black and white modern color scheme he'd originally decorated the house in. True, she'd added photos and chotskies, but they blended so well that he couldn't remember when they'd not been there. The homey, girlie clutter he'd observed in her house back in North Carolina was only in her office, the small room overflowing with it. But other than that, along with her vanity in their joint dressing room, and her clothes in the closets and dressers, she hadn't left her mark on their home.
Their home. That had a nice ring to it, he decided, pulling the Hummer into a metered space at Stamford Airport.
Hunter loped down out of the truck, took a moment to secure the blue box in the back that he'd picked up at A Touch of Class Boutique before he'd left Greenwich, fed some quarters into the meter, and headed into the terminal. He didn't bother masking the broad grin that curved his mouth up at the corners. As much as he was looking forward to the impending arrival of his surprise guests, he was even more pleased with his latest acquisition, and the smile it would put on Nan's face when he got back home.
Home. There was that word again. Yeah, he definitely needed to do something about that. But to accomplish that goal, he needed to see Lilly. And that meant dealing with Kit. He frowned again, but now determined. It was time. And overdue.
And just maybe, it was time to think about leaving Greenwich, too.
~<>~
September 7, 2004 4:41 p.m.
EST
Hunter & Nan's House – Greenwich, CT
"So are you guys going?"
"I don't know."
Nan leaned back in her chair and propped her bare feet on the open bottom drawer of her desk. She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it back into place, and pulled her long ponytail out from behind her back, then twirled one thick lock around her finger. "He hasn't said yet."
"Well, why the hell not?!" her friend huffed on the other end of the phone.
"Stace, you know how Hunter is...how he feels about stuff like this," she sighed before lifting her pen back to her lips.
She could practically hear Stacy roll her eyes in frustration. "So he hates fancy parties. So what? And stop chewing on your pen. You're gonna ruin your teeth doing that."
Nan plucked the pen from her mouth automatically then stared down at the blinking red light on her phone where it lay benignly on her desk. "How do you do that?" At Stacy's giggle, Nan continued. "We've never gone before. You know…as a couple."
"Ohhh," Stacy drawled knowingly. "I get it now. The McMahons."
"Yeah." Nan nodded, looking over at the collection of pictures on her desk, focusing on one of Stacy and herself. They were grinning happily into the camera, arms slung around each other's shoulders. She smiled in memory of the night it had been taken. Stacy had spent the better part of a RAW show backstage with her, convincing her she would severely regret it if she didn't say yes to moving in with Hunter. The vivacious Diva had all but guaranteed her that she'd be blissfully happy with him. And, Nan thought ruefully, she'd been right. For the most part.
"You still there?"
Nan snapped back to the present, making a mental note to thank her friend for her advice the next time she saw her. Some things just shouldn't be said over the phone. "Sorry, doing a little woolgathering."
"A blonde moment?"
"I didn't say that!"
"You didn't have to." Stacy snorted. "Besides, no offense taken. You're entitled to be distracted every now and then. But this uses up your quota for this year. No more until 2005, ya hear?"
"Woolgathering quota met. So noted," Nan giggled, surprising Stacy.
"Was that a giggle I heard come out of you??"
"Oh, shut up."
"Huh–uh. Ain't gonna happen. So…the McMahons?" Stacy pressed, bringing her back on topic.
Nan sighed. "I've gone out of my way to avoid them for the past two and a half years. And you know Steph's gonna be there."
Stacy huffed out another frustrated breath. "I don't understand why you let her bother you so much. I mean, it's obviously how Hunter feels about you. To anyone with eyes and even a slightly functioning brain, that is. Hemme being excluded from either of those categories of course."
"She's definitely not the brightest crayon in the box, now is she?"
"I dunno," Stacey murmured thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think she's got a lot more on the ball than she wants anyone to know about. That kind of intelligence is bad news."
"Mmm," Nan agreed. "And apparently she's got a death wish with the way she keeps eyeballing Hunter."
"Baby, I'm home!" Hunter's voice called down the hallway.
"Hang on, Stace." Nan covered the mouthpiece of her headset. "I'm on the phone!" When no answer came back from him, Nan turned her attention back to her friend. "You were saying?"
"Nan," Stacy began. "You can't seriously be jealous over Hemme, or think he's got a thing for her. Do you?"
"Don't be silly." Nan protested. "Of course not. And before you start lecturing me, yes, I'm aware that he's always got droves of females fawning over him. It comes with the territory. I trust Hunter. I just don't trust her. There's just something about her that makes me illogically enraged whenever I see her. She makes the short–hairs on the back of my neck stand on end."
Her blonde friend made a noise of agreement. "I hear you on that one. But enough about little miss wannabe. It's making me nauseated. Back to Steph – you don't think that she wants him back, do you?"
"When has Stephanie McMahon ever willingly given up something that she still wanted, Stace? You forget. Hunter divorced her. And embarrassed the hell out of her to boot. So I put nothing past that woman. And I did hear her on the phone when Hunter called me when I was in Florida before we got back together."
"What?!" Stacy screeched. "You didn't tell me that!"
"Musta slipped my mind."
She snorted into the phone. "Not fuckin' likely. But I still say you've got nothing to worry about. Hunter loves you, hon. Has for as long as I've known you."
"I'm not arguing that. I know he loves me. It's just…I mean…"
"You're self–conscious around his ex–wife." Stacy pegged. "And you've got no reason to be."
Frowning, Nan changed the subject. "So who's arm will you be gracing?"
"Ha-ha. Very funny," she grumbled. "You know I'm going by myself. But I don't wanna talk about that. You've tried to tell me a couple of times now. What's that thing Hunter can do with his…"
"Baby!" Hunter's voice bellowed from the kitchen.
"Hang on, Stace." Nan covered the mouthpiece again. "Yeah?!"
"Where's the spicy brown mustard?" Hunter called again.
"Fridge door! Second shelf!" Nan hollered back. Lowering her hand from the microphone, she asked, "Now where were we?"
"Listening to Hunter the Hungry ransack your kitchen," Stacy responded wryly.
"Baby! I can't find it!"
Plopping her feet back down on the floor, Nan sat up. "Stace, I gotta go before His Majesty blows the house up."
Stacy's peal of laughter rang clearly through the phone lines as she said her good–byes.
~<>~
Nan came down the hallway grumbling, "Hunter, honestly. We go through this every single time you want to make a sandwich. I've never moved that mustard. It's always in the same exact pla–"
Her complaints came to an abrupt halt as she got a good look at who was standing beside Hunter in her kitchen. Leaning casually up against the counter, with a smug grin, and his arms held open wide, was Kevin Nash.
"Deez!" With a squeal that Hunter was sure made his ears bleed, Nan launched herself at her giant friend, jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
Expecting her exuberant greeting, Kevin caught her with ease. Laughing, he spun her around in a circle. Finally, he set her down gingerly. "Happy to see me, Nee?"
"I can't believe you're here!" Nan grinned.
"In the gorgeous, muscular flesh, sugar." He peered around her, looking for something. "No crutches, or cane?"
"She drowned the crutches," Hunter muttered.
"Yep, death by chlorine. And the cane was retired last week," she explained.
"Only," Hunter pointed a finger at her, "as long as you don't strain that ankle at all."
"Bully." She stuck her tongue out at him, but still managed to grin while doing it.
"I mean it, brat."
She cocked her head at him, then glanced slyly at Kevin out of the corner of her eye. "Say, Deez? Ya didn't happen to bring a wood chipper with you didja?" Then she turned full on him, her brows knitting together. "What the hell did you do to your hair?"
"Cut it off. All gone. Buh-bye." Kevin smiled down at her. "But you can really thank Runt for me being here. His idea."
Nan spun around, beaming at Hunter. She stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his chest. He returned her hug, then loosened his hold as she leaned back to look up at him. "Thank you. Having Deez here for Unforgiven is a wonderful surprise."
Hunter couldn't help but smile down indulgently at her in the face of her so obvious excitement. "You're welcome, baby."
She looked back over her shoulder at Kevin. "You are staying for the pay-per-view, right?"
Kevin winked at her, sharing a look with Hunter. "Wouldn't miss it."
"That's not the end of your surprises, baby." Hunter smirked at her.
"No? What are you up to?"
"About six four."
"Hunter," she narrowed her eyes at his teasing.
He laughed, before calling, "You can come out now."
"Someone else is here?" Nan queried. "Who?"
With a broad smile, Hunter placed both hands on her shoulders and bodily turned her around, so that she faced the bar that jutted out into the dining room. Nan's dark eyes scoured the room, not seeing anyone, when a movement below her eye-level captured her attention. She lowered her gaze right into a sparkling set of indigo eyes, and a wide gap-toothed smile.
At once, she dropped into a crouch, holding her arms out as Jack Chilton rushed into them. Crushing the little body to her, she scooped him up, rising to her feet, taking him with her. "Hey, Jack," she whispered emotionally, her voice husky. "How are you, punkin'?"
Jack pulled back a little, leaving one small hand wrapped in her ponytail, rubbing his palm down the ends like he would a security blanket. He flashed his heart-melting grin at her, revealing those precious dimples. "Did we thurprithe you, Mithth Nan? Unca Kevin an' Mithter Hunter thaid I wath ta keep quiet, cuz I wath your anniverthkary thurprithe. Wath you thurprithed? Did I do good?"
"Top notch, punkin'. You are a wonderful surprise." Nan hugged him again, then shifted his small body to her hip. He chattered away at her, bound and determined to catch her up on everything she'd missed since seeing him last. She listened with one ear, ooohing and ahhhing at the right places, while her mind took stock of the little boy in her arms.
He'd changed remarkably little in some areas, while only slightly in others. She ran her free hand over his sandy blonde locks, noticing that there was a lot more blonde than brown in his hair now, bleached by the Florida sun, she assumed. He felt lighter than he had two months ago. He looked thinner too. And tired, but that could be from the flight. But the thing that she noticed right off was that those missing front teeth hadn't grown back in yet. They'd not even begun to break through. And in two months, they should have. But maybe she was worrying for nothing.
Used to Jack's magpie ways, Deez wandered out of the kitchen and over to the sliding glass doors that led to out to the deck, and gave a spectacular view of the patio and pool below.
"Good Lord," he whistled wolfishly. "Who is that?! Runt! You running a home for wayward Divas now? I retract my rejection of your offer to set me up with a date for the horse and pony show. I'll go with her! Goddamn, is she hot!"
An overly sharp punch to the back of Kevin's head sent the bigger man stumbling forward, just barely catching himself before crashing through the glass. Kevin spun around with a growl. "What the fuck was that for?! You startin' with me, Runt?!"
Hunter bared his teeth in a vicious snarl at his old friend, his eyes snapping with such animosity, that Kevin almost backed up a pace. Almost. "Put your eyes back in your head, you lecherous old fuck!" Hunter growled at him. "That's Tina, you're salivating over. And you're not getting that close to her, if I've got breath in my body!"
"Tina?" Kevin repeated, his eyes growing wide. "Get the fuck outta here. Tina's a teenager. And that sweet thing down there certainly ain't no damn teenager!"
"That sweet thing is Tina! She's nineteen, and off-limits to the likes of you! And you're gonna stay the hell away from her or I'll make sure you spend the next few months eating all of your meals through a stomach tube! Get me, gramps?!" Hunter punctuated his words by poking a finger against Kevin's sternum.
"Hey, hey!" Nan frowned, walking into the room, with Jack still on her hip, to where they stood, just in time to see Kevin slap Hunter's hand away from him, both males glowering at each other. "Watch your damn mouths! What's with all the hostility?"
"Shug," Kevin glared at her. "Who's the sun bunny down by the pool? I mean," he chuckled, "Runt here is trying to tell me that's Tina, if you can believe that."
She didn't bother to look out the window where Kevin was pointing. "It is Tina. She's doing her internship with the WWE and living with us while she does it."
Kevin's mouth dropped open. "Well, I'll be a son of a bitch."
"Already covered," Hunter grumbled, his protective streak still riding high.
Looking out the window to see who they were talking about, Jack's eyes lit up. "Dicthie!" He hollered, his lisp massacring her name, when he spotted the little dachshund playing with a red rubber ball in the grass near the pool. "Can I go play with her, Unca Kevin?"
Kevin shrugged, still bemused. "Sure. Why not?"
Nan stepped over to the doors, and slid them open. "Tina! Can you come up here for a minute?"
"Okay, Nettie!" Tina yelled back.
Not even two minutes later, Tina galloped happily up the deck stairs leading up from the pool, still in her deep amethyst bikini, while securing a matching sarong around her curvy hips. She looked up to see all four of them waiting for her. Those expressive cobalt blue eyes fell on Kevin and her whole face lit up.
"Deez!" She squealed at an extremely high pitch, rushing up to hug her aunt's old friend.
"At least I know where she gets it from," Hunter murmured, rubbing at his ear.
Tentatively, and with one eye on Hunter, Kevin raised his arms to return the young woman's hug. Aware of Hunter's glowering stare, he pushed her away gently, holding her at arm's length. "When did you grow up on me, Beauty?" He asked, referring to her, as he did with most people, by the nickname he'd christened her with years ago. "Last time a saw you, you were thirteen and all knees and elbows, trying to take some kid's head off with a baseball bat."
Tina giggled with a pretty blush, coming face to face with her pre-teen crush. "I was eleven, and it was a T-ball bat. But I won't hold it against you. I hear your memory goes as you get older."
"Ooh-hoo-hoo!" Hunter chuckled as Nan did the same.
"Old am I now, huh? Too old for you to wanna marry me anymore?" Kevin teased her, remembering when he'd tortured her for years with the same comments when she'd been much younger. And cute as a button, too.
Tina cocked her head, placed a hand on her hip, and shrugged a bare shoulder. "Oh, I don't know about that. I hear the older man has a lot to offer a girl. Is your heart up to it?"
"Sassy as always, " Kevin laughed at her flirtatious demeanor.
"You know it," she grinned with a wink. Then her face relaxed into genuine affection. "Good to see you, Deez. How long are you staying?"
"Through Unforgiven." Tossing an evil grin at Hunter, Kevin asked, "Are you going to the Black and White Ball, Beauty?"
Tina nodded. "Normally, the tech crews aren't invited to this gala. But as an intern, I've been issued an invitation. Hand delivered too."
"By who?" Hunter frowned.
"Mr. McMahon. His secretary sent it over after the show last night. Especially requesting I attend." She shrugged. "I figured what the hell."
The other three adults shared a long look at that news. Vince taking a personal interest in the comings and goings of his employees was never a good thing. But no one gave voice to the suspicions rolling around in their brains, all of them unwilling to upset the young woman.
"You have a date yet?" Kevin asked.
"She does," Hunter answered for her with a rumble. "She's dating Hurricane."
Tina shook her head. "Not anymore, Uncle Hunter. We broke up last week." She turned back to Kevin. "Thanks, Deez. But I'm gonna stag it. Gotta keep those options open, ya know."
Kevin grinned. "You at least owe me a dance or three."
"I don't know…I'm pretty booked up already. But, I'll see if I can't work you into my dance card somewhere." At his laughter, she turned her eyes on the little boy perched happily on her aunt's hip – almost like he belonged there. "Who's this?"
Jack stuck out his hand. "I'm Jack. Unca Kevin brought me. I'm Mithth Nan'th anniverthkary thurprithe!"
Tina giggled brightly. "Really? Did you surprise her good?" At his enthusiastic nodding, she grinned. "Do you like to swim?"
To everyone's surprise, Jack frowned. "I don't know how. My father thaid he'd teach me, but he'th never home."
Nan started to protest his lack of swimming ability, when she recalled that although she'd seen him in the water and on the beach, she'd never seen him actually swim. Nor had he ever been in the water without an adult holding on to him tightly. She frowned. Something about Jack wasn't adding up for her just right, and the picture beginning to form in her mind, she didn't like.
"Well, I can teach you, if you want." Tina's offer broke into Nan's musings. "My dad taught me, so I can teach you."
Jack nodded vigorously again, his head bobbing on his shoulders. Nan went to put him down, but Jack tightened his hold on her.
"What is it, punkin'?" Nan asked.
"Come with uth," he whispered shyly.
"Tell you what, slugger," Kevin began, deftly plucking Jack out of Nan's arms and swung the now giggling child up onto his shoulders. "Let's go change into our trunks and Nan and Runt can join us at the pool in a little bit. Sound good?"
"Thoundth great!"
"Let's go then!" Kevin chortled, heading off to the guestrooms, leaving Tina alone with Hunter and Nan.
"What's his story?" Tina asked once they were out of earshot.
"His parents went to Switzerland," Hunter answered. "And they left Jack with Kevin. So he brought him when I called him last week."
Nan turned concerned eyes on him. "What about Hannah? His sister," she threw at Tina's raised eyebrow.
"Grandmother."
"Why not Jack too?" Tina pondered aloud.
Hunter shrugged. "Don't know. I've not had a chance to get Kev alone to find out what's going on." He looked over at Tina. "Why am I just now hearing about your breakup?"
"Because it's not that big of a deal, Uncle Hunter," she answered carelessly.
"Did he hurt you?" Hunter rumbled.
Tina smiled at him, leaning up to peck his cheek. "No. But it's awfully sweet of you to be concerned. If anything, I hurt him." She turned on her heel and flounced out of the sliding glass doors and down the steps to the pool, calling over her shoulder, "See you in a few!"
Once she was gone, Nan turned and placed both palms flat on Hunter's chest, stroking the hard expanse of muscle beneath her hands through the soft material of his T-shirt. Hunter looped his arms around her waist, letting his fingers trance random patterns against the thin cotton shorts covering her bottom. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him sweetly, letting her lips linger against his.
"What was that for?" Hunter asked when she lowered back down.
"Because having them here was a very sweet thing to do."
He grinned, tightening his hold on her, bending his knees, cuddling her a little closer. "I'm a sweet guy."
She nodded. "Yes, you are. Even though I'm the only one you show it to – most of the time."
He looked into those deep gypsy eyes and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Your surprises for this week are just beginning."
"What does that mean?"
Releasing her, he took her by the hand and led her into the living room. He pointed to a royal blue box with a single pink rose laying atop a white card under the flower. He picked up the rose and traced the line of her jaw with the bud, trailing the petals down her neck. She captured the rose, favored him with the shy smile that did odd things to his blood pressure, and lifted the bloom to her nose, inhaling deeply. A sleepy smile crossed her face. Reaching over, he plucked the white engraved placard from the top of the box and handed it to her. She took the invitation and read it quickly, her eyes flying up to meet his.
"We're going?" At his single nod, she protested. "Hunter, I don't have a gown suitable…"
He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her. "You do now. Open it."
Curiosity overcoming her, she laid the rose on the table, and lifted the top of the box to reveal mounds of blue tissue paper. She rifled through the paper to uncover a vision in white silk. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers. She knew that dress. It had caught her eye several times in the window of a store in Old Greenwich that specialized in vintage formalwear recreations.
Gingerly, she lifted the gown from the box, holding it up against her as she stood up. It was a delicate creation, off the right shoulder completely, running under her arm and cupping her right breast while the left shoulder had one single strap to hold the dress in place. The gown had a sheer panel below the breasts, running diagonally and dipping low over her left hip. The edges of the bodice and waist were studded with tiny sparkling silver beading drawing the eye to the sheer panel. The skirt was a form hugging straight-line sheath, falling to a delicate silken puddle on the tops of her feet. Another matching swath of sheer material fell gracefully off the single-strapped left shoulder to rest barely above her ankle. But it was soft enough that it wouldn't scratch her skin as it swung loosely behind her, and it was long enough to wrap around her elbow or neck if she liked. The hem of the dress was split up the back to just about knee level, providing a nice ease of movement. Perfect for dancing. The gown was exquisite with the demure teasing sexiness so prevalent in the gown styles of the late fifties.
"You'll find matching shoes and underthings in there too," Hunter commented with a grin, knowing how much she's drooled over that dress whenever they'd seen it.
Still holding the dress against her, she pawed through the box with one hand, pulling out first a pair of white ballet slippers. Nan breathed a sigh of relief at the shoes. Heels would kill her with her ankle and slick bottoms were a recipe for disaster. But these had neither, no heels at all, and soft leather bottoms. And they had little white bows on the toes.
She grinned at that, laid the shoes on the coffee table and went back to the box. Next out came white thigh high stockings, with elastic tops, little white bows on the sides, and a seam up the back of each one.
"Have a thing for bows, do you?"
Hunter shrugged. "You seem to like them." At her questioning look he explained, "You wear 'em in your hair a lot."
Nodding, she moved the stockings aside. "I like bows. They're pretty."
"And very girlie."
"Not something I'm usually accused of."
"No," he agreed. "But more appropriate than most realize, I bet."
Glancing up through the ponytail that had fallen in her face, she looked at him for a moment, big brown doe eyes a little shy, a deepening pink coloring her cheeks, and whispered a very small, "Yeah."
That simple word and look zinged through Hunter's bloodstream and he felt his chest puff up, knowing he'd scored major points with that observation. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans and grinned smugly.
Her face now flushing crimson, she turned back to the box again. Digging further through the blue tissue paper, she found a narrow white lacy thong with yet another delicate white bow at the top of the triangle of lace.
She cast a sly glance at him, all traces of her blush gone. "No garter belt?"
Hunter had the grace to flush a little under her gaze. "I figured that the thong would show less lines than a garter belt. But if you want one, I'll be glad to take it back–"
"Don't even think about it." She grinned fighting a building giggle. "Although, just the thought of you in a lingerie store picking out stuff is almost too good to pass up."
He grinned wider, his eyes dancing. "Yeah, Victoria's Secret can be murder. Real hell, lemme tell ya."
"I'll bet," she snorted. "But with taste like this," she held up the thong by a narrow strap. "You can pick out lingerie for me anytime. Sexy without being slutty. I like that."
"I thought you might."
Nan laid the dress and accessories gently back into the box and stood up. Without warning, she tackled him to the couch. Hunter landed with a sharp exhalation of breath, finding no time to regain it before she covered his mouth with hers, stealing what little breath he had left, along with any ability for rational thought.
Abruptly, she pulled back and stared down at him, her eyes dark and serious, but full of promises. "Thank you. I love it."
Hunter chuckled, reaching up to smooth his hand down the lustrous column of her ponytail that was threatening to smother him, enjoying the silky texture against his callused palm. "I'm glad."
"You sure you want to do this? I know how you hate parties like this one."
"I'm sure, baby."
"You know that the McMahons will be there."
"I certainly hope so," Hunter nodded. "Nothing would please me more than having the most captivatingly beautiful woman I've ever known in my life gracing my arm at this thing. So sue me if I wanna show you off a little."
She blushed again under his infrequent praise. "You're good."
He leered at her, waggling his eyebrows at her. "I know."
"I love you, Hunter."
His leer faded away into one of those rare smiles that always melted her bones as he cupped her cheek. "I love you too, baby. Happy Anniversary." He slid his hand up to cradle her head, and lowered it down so her lips would meet his. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, and with an aching gentleness that left her breathing ragged.
"Good God!" Kevin's voice called from the hallway. "Don't you two ever come up for air?!"
Hunter and Nan broke away from each other with a laugh, and Nan eased off of him to sit up. Hunter slid out from beneath her and got to his feet. "You up for a swim, baby?"
She nodded. "You go on. I'll join you guys in a minute. I've got to make a call first."
"Don't take too long," Hunter admonished as he peeled his shirt off over his head, leaving with Kevin and Jack.
Nan sprinted back down the hall to her office, scooped up her phone, and punched in the number still flashing on the Caller ID screen.
Stacy picked up on the second ring. "Hey Nan. Need me to call the fire department?"
"No," she laughed gaily. "We're going!"
"Really?! All right!" Stacy gushed happily. "I just got off the phone with Becky. She'll be there too. Oh, Nan, we're gonna have such a fantastic time!"
"Hot damn!" Nan crowed. "I don't think the WWE will ever be the same when the three of us get done with this little soiree! So, you still going alone? 'Cuz I may just have the remedy for that!"
~<>~
Laying in a lounge chair by the water's edge, his black trunks still wet and clinging to his thighs, Hunter sighed contentedly and absently scratched his full belly. They all spent the rest of the day by the pool. Even going so far as Kevin lighting up the grill and barbecuing a huge rack of spareribs Nan had brought down for them. Hunter couldn't remember when he'd had such a relaxing and fun afternoon. The closest he'd come was probably that last day in Florida. Only one thing was missing from this day to make it as good as that one had been. Shawn.
Turning his gaze to the blazes of orange streaking the sky as the sun began to set, Hunter couldn't help but wonder again where exactly he and Shawn now stood. He'd come to the funeral for Nan. But he'd also been there for him. Hunter wasn't a stupid man. He knew that Shawn – or Jericho either, for that matter – didn't have to play nice with him. Or offer support while he'd been looking through that photo album he'd left in Jericho's care. But they both had. And he really didn't know what to make of it.
A squeal of childish laughter brought his attention back to the occupants of the pool. Almost the whole time they'd been out there, Nan and Tina had been chattering away about the pending Black and White Ball. Dresses, seating arrangements, entertainment, who would probably show up with whom, the whole nine yards. It was almost like they were talking about wedding plans or something, with the serious intensity to which they gave their discussion. Hunter grinned broadly at that thought, thoroughly enjoying Nan's buoyant mood. He chuckled. If she only knew what else he had planned for this coming weekend.
"You've got that look." Kevin grunted, lowering his long frame into the empty chair beside him.
"What look?" Hunter asked absently, not taking his eyes of the splashing trio.
Kevin chuckled. "You know the one. That indulgent, kind of sappy, whole face smile that clearly says ain't-she-cute-and-back-off-she's-all-mine. The one most men get when looking at the woman they love, when said woman isn't looking at them."
"Oh, like you would know," Hunter snorted in derision.
"Just because I ain't an elephant doesn't mean I don't know what one looks like."
Hunter looked over at Kevin like he'd lost his mind. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"I dunno, man," he shrugged. "Just roll with the analogy."
"Whatever," Hunter chuckled with a shrug as his friend fell silent.
He relaxed in the chair, just content to watch his girls play in the pool, making a game out of teaching Jack how to swim. The little boy was having a ball. And learning quickly, too. There was something very right about the sight of Nan bouncing up and down in the water holding her arms out to catch Jack as he hurtled himself off the edge of the pool deck at her.
"Nice, huh?" Kevin murmured.
"Oh yeah," he agreed. "This is what it's all about, Kev."
"Ain't that the truth. So when are you two gonna start raising your own army of Heavyweight Champs?"
Hunter spared a glance to glare at him. "What are you, my mother?"
"Hell no, man." Kevin snorted. "I've got a soul."
Grinning, Hunter held up his hand, his middle and ring fingers pinched together against his thumb, leaving both his index finger and pinkie extended. The old wolf symbol. Chuckling heartily, Kevin did the same, touching his fingers to Hunter's. They shared a long look, brimming with shared memories, before they both turned their attention back to the water.
"You talked to Shawn lately?" Hunter asked lowly.
The big man waited a moment before answering. "Yeah, just last week."
"Is he coming?"
Kevin nodded slowly, "Yep. Bringing Beck and Cam, too."
He closed his eyes at the unexpected tightening of his chest at the mention of his godson's name. God, he missed that little boy. "Good," Hunter nodded, opening his eyes again. "She'll like seeing Becky again."
Wisely Kevin let it go, knowing it was pointless to try and convince Hunter that his godson needed to see his Uncle Game. They'd been down that road before. "What else do you have up your sleeve for this weekend," he asked instead.
Without taking his eyes off the antics in the pool, Hunter answered, "Whatcha mean, Kev?"
"Don't try and play me, Runt. I know when you're plotting."
"And you think I'd tell you?" Hunter barked out a short laugh. "You couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it."
"You should know, considering you're just as bad – if not worse. So you are up to something." Kevin smirked at him.
"Didn't say that," Hunter protested mildly.
"You didn't deny it either."
Hunter cut sly eyes at him. "Nope. Sure didn't."
"Hey Deez!" Nan's voice called to them from where she stood, pulling herself up the ladder out of the pool.
"Yeah, shug?"
"Guess who else doesn't have a date for the ball?"
Kevin rolled his eyes. "Lemme guess. Mae Young?"
"I don't know about Miss Mae, or Miss Moola. But I do know of someone else that you know who's going stag." Nan laughed, as she wrung excess water out of her ponytail, streams of water sluicing down her legs. Droplets clung to her arms and chest left exposed by her snug black one-piece bathing suit, making it look like wet leather in the fading light. The water caught the orange fire of the setting sun, making the drops look like little beads of molten gold on her pale skin.
Hunter's eyes widened a fraction. "Jesus," he hissed in a breath.
"Reign it in, Runt," Kevin whispered, then raised his voice back to normal volumes. "Who then, shug?"
"Stacy."
Kevin and Hunter traded a knowledgeable glance before Kevin turned back to her. "Cherry Pie doesn't have a date? You sure?"
"So she told me a few hours ago." Nan answered, picking up a towel and beginning to wipe her legs down. She sat between Hunter's legs, passing the towel to him. "Do my back?"
"Any body part you'd like, baby." He answered with a low growl.
"Hey, I'm trying to digest here," Kevin complained, but didn't fail to notice her soft giggle or the blush coloring her cheeks. "Someone looks happy."
She graced him with an affectionate smile. "Someone is. Very."
While Hunter stroked the towel across her skin, Nan reached over to snag a tube off the table between them. Uncapping the tube, she squirted a tiny amount of salve onto her fingers and began to rub it gingerly over an angry looking scar on her right ankle and leg. Kevin's brows turned down in a frown at the obvious reminder of what she'd recently gone through, but didn't comment.
She cocked her head at Kevin, squinting one eye as a drop of water rolled lazily down her forehead. "Why don't you ask her?"
A thoughtful look crossed her friend's face, as he weighed her suggestion. "Me and Cherry Pie at the Ball, huh? That could definitely be interesting. Right, Runt?"
"Leave me out of this."
Kevin laughed. "Uh-huh. Right. Nee, did you tell her I was here?"
Nan shook her head. "Nope." She cut her eyes at Hunter. "You're not the only one who's capable of surprising folks."
"Don't tell her," Kevin instructed. "I'd rather do that myself."
"Nettie?" Tina spoke softly, capturing their attention. "I think someone's getting sleepy."
Nan turned to see a wet, shivering and heavy lidded little face staring back at her. She reached around and plucked the towel from Hunter's hands. "Come 'mere, punkin'. Let's get you dried off, so we can head inside. Okay?"
His teeth were chattering so loudly that even Dixie could hear it, obvious by the way she cocked her head and whined at him. Jack nodded and stepped into the towel, giggling as Nan began to rub him down.
"Well, I'm gonna call it a night," Tina announced. She looked over at Kevin. "See you in the morning, Deez."
"G'night, Beauty." Kevin called after the retreating young woman as Hunter and Nan did the same.
"Come on, slugger." Kevin said after a few minutes, getting to his feet. "Time for bath and bed."
"But I'm pool clean already." Jack protested.
Nan leaned in, hugging the towel wrapped body close to her. "Yup. You are. And all the dirt-germs are long gone. But if you don't wash the chlorine out of your hair, then you end up looking like that when you wake up." She pointed at Kevin's newly shorn locks. "You don't want that, now do you?"
Jack weighed her words then cocked his head, studying the big man in front of him. He turned that toothless grin on her. "Nah!"
"Very funny." Kevin groused as his friends shared a good laugh at his expense. He leaned over to pick the little boy up, but Jack spun away from him, instead, wrapping his stick like arms around Nan's neck.
"What's wrong, punkin'?" Nan asked, wrapping her arms around him.
She had to strain to hear his whispered answer. "Don't wanna leave."
Nan hugged him a little tighter, patting his back, then pulled away. "Jack, look at me."
Slowly, he loosened his hold to turn big sad blue eyes on her. "Yeth ma'am?"
She smiled at him, cupping his head in her hand. "Punkin', you're not going anywhere. You're just going upstairs to take a bath and get ready for bed. And when you get up tomorrow morning, I'll still be here. You want me to come tuck you in?" At his tentative nod, she smiled again. "Okay, punkin'. Go wash the diesel out of your hair and I'll be right up to tuck you in and say goodnight."
"Okay," Jack nodded, holding his arms out to Kevin. "Come on, Unca Kevin. Mith Nan thays I gotta go wath the Deeth outta my head."
Scooping up the little boy, Kevin turned a sour glare on the redhead now relaxing comfortably against his friend's broad chest, both of them sporting huge shit-eating grins. "Thanks, sugar."
"Any time, Deez!" She cackled wildly as he stalked back up to the house.
