Title: Hamlet Never Had Days Like This
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution: Empress' Private Library and The Wayside Inn  All others ask first.
Rating: NC17 – there are two sex scenes in this one kiddies. Two! And not a one is of Hunter and Nan. Damn, that Dave Batista gets around, doesn't he? This should at least make up for the fade to black in the last one.
Category: Number 20 in the Behind The Scenes Series. Follows number 19 Everything That Rises Must Converge.
Characters: Still not doing this anymore – like I said in the last one, if you don't know by now that this is (mostly) a Hunter/Nan story, and that everyone in the WWE is fair game, then I have no sympathy for you. Okay, well, it's a well-known fact that I don't have much sympathy for most folks, so that's not really saying a lot.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Uh, lots of sex, foul language, and violence. Oh, and some Shakespeare for good measure. Hey, they're in England most of the time! The Bard's gotta make an appearance!! For those so literary minded, the passage quoted is from Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2, lines 115-117. Brush up your Shakespeare…start quoting him now…brush up your Shakespeare…and the women you will wow… Sorry. Had a Kiss Me Kate moment there. A-hem…moving right along…
Summary: Nan takes a bath. Tina listens to music. Hunter eats breakfast. Dave chokes on his eggs.
Author's Notes: We've got lots this time…so again with the numbering thing.
1.Many thanks go out to Emma for her wonderful speed at answering questions about her native country – England – to a stupid American – me – who didn't have the time – nor patience – to look this stuff up for myself. Thank you, Emma. You're a gem!
2.I'm changing Dave Batista's age. I need him younger. Mainly because if I made him his real age, it would just be too damn weird for words for me.
3.Don't try to do the math for Tina's age…it won't work out. Trust me on this. Side effect for doing this as a work in progress, I suppose and changing my mind forty-leven times.
4.I'm also playing with the international time zones in this one, mainly because I bounce between England and the US a lot in the beginning…and the times won't make sense if I don't play with 'em. Gotta keep up with continuity, right? Anyway, if ya have a problem with that…well, jeeze people. It's fiction. Lighten up and get over yourselves. Just be glad I'm not tampering with the space-time continuum. You know – identical mass cannot occupy the exact same space at the exact same time without destroying itself. Usually violently. Talk about not a pretty scene. <shuddering>
Feedback: What? Are you kidding me? I live for it!
Disclaimer: Not mine – theirs. Some are mine and I'm keeping those. No money made…blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. On with the show.

October 12, 2004 4:37 a.m. EST
The Woods – Greenwich, CT 

Without warning, she was awake.  Just like that.  Almost as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over her.  Okay…awakeness she could handle.  But something was wrong.  She had that saliva producing, nasty metallic taste on the back of her tongue.  The exact one she always got right before she was about to get very sick.  Or when she was badly frightened.  She didn't feel nauseous.  Okay…frightened then.  And she was cold.  Terribly cold.  And very stiff.

Uncurling herself from the position she lay in, sent stabs of pain through her legs and backside.  And the snapping of a twig brought her sitting bolt upright, fighting back a scream as she realized where she was.

Outside.

Whipping her head around only succeeded in confirming her observance.  That and it brought down a shower of dry, brittle leaves on her head from where they had tangled themselves in her hair.  She lay somewhere outside, in the middle of the night.  Morning…whatever.  No wonder she was cold and stiff.  It was a wonder she'd not died.  Or gotten hypothermia at least.  October in New England wasn't the cool, crisp nippiness to the air like it was back home.  It was more like late December.  Cold.  Still pretty.  But too cold to be dressed in only a tank and shorts, her recent sleeping attire since Jack had come to stay with them.

The thought of the little boy made her try to get to her feet.  No easy task since her muscles declared they were seceding from the union of her body.  Once to her feet, a metallic clink drew her eyes downward.  Seeing only the dark lumps of leaves, she squatted down and started feeling around, praying she wouldn't disturb some thing that may have kept her company during the night. 

Nan's questing fingers brushed against something cold.  And metal-feeling.  She lifted it out of the pile of leaves.  Her keys.  Tightening her grip around them until she could feel them bite into her palm, she fought a bubble of rising hysteria.

Somehow, she'd managed to leave the house, taking her keys with her, and had walked in her sleep to wherever she was now.  Please, God, let me have walked and not driven, she prayed silently. 

She looked around but didn't see her car.  She then tried to get her bearings, recognizing nothing in the darkness.  Perversely, her brain teased her with the observance of how nothing looks familiar in the dark.  Or when you're panicking.  And that's exactly what was starting to happen.

She fought it back, trying desperately to ignore it.  But it was like trying to put the lid back on Pandora's box.  Easier said than done, and usually with devastating results.  Everywhere she heard the noises of the night.  But no cars.  No sounds of civilization.  And behind each tree, she just knew something nasty was waiting only for her to walk past it so they could reach out and snatch her.

Fear or not, she couldn't stay out here, wherever here was.  Where precisely, she couldn't tell, as there wasn't any light other than the moon over head.  Trees.  Leaves.  Starry sky.  And that was it.  She was just outside.  Somewhere.  She couldn't stay here and wait for dawn.  She had people depending on her back at the house.  Rebecca.  Cameron.  Jack. 

Then it clicked.  Starry sky.

Panting anxiously now, she looked up to the sky again, searching for the North Star.  After what felt like hours, she found it.  Nodding to herself, she held out her right hand, and felt around for the tree closest to her.  Finally…moss.  She breathed a little easier.  Moss only grew on the North side of trees.  Didn't it? 

She turned until the moss was on her right hand side.  That way.  She looked up at the sky again.  The North Star was now just over her left shoulder.  She knew the house was on the Western end of Greenwich.  If she kept heading straight, then she should come across the house, or maybe a road, depending on how far she'd gone.

Firming her resolve, she took two steps away from the tree and headed out into the darkness. 

~<>~

How many nights I’ve lain in bed excited over you
I’ve closed my eyes and thought of us a hundred different ways
I’ve gotten there so many times I wonder how bout you
Day and night – Night and day
All I’ve got to say is
If I was your girl
Oh the things I’d do to you
I’d make you call out my name
I’d ask who it belongs to
If I was your woman
The things I’d do to you
       If – Janet Jackson

October 12, 2004 4:39 a.m.
Radisson Edwardian Manchester – Room 345  – Manchester, England 

"Where are you going?"

The voice, so soft and gentle, yet so unexpected, caught her completely unaware, causing her to spin around, blinking in the sudden brightness as he flipped on the light beside the bed.  She clutched sneakers to her chest, eyes wide, and her hair wild around her face.  He couldn't help but grin at the picture she presented, as his dark gaze swept her up and down.  Jeans barely on – buttoned, but not zipped.  Barefooted, with her socks hanging out of the jean pockets.  He wondered if she knew that her T-shirt was on inside out. 

And backwards. 

But, that's what you got for trying to get dressed in the dark.  He decided not to tell her, and slid up in the bed, letting the sheet fall to his waist as he pressed his back against the headboard.

"I…uh…thought I'd head downstairs and catch a few winks on one of the couches in the lobby.  You know, before everyone starts waking up and – "

"Asks questions about where you stayed last night," he finished for her.

Her head bobbing absurdly, she nodded in agreement.  "Yeah.  Besides, I've got an early tech meeting in about," she looked down at her watch, then twisted her hand upside down to read the dial, since she'd strapped the watch on that way.  "Three and a half hours.  I thought I'd let you sleep and I'd catch up with you later.  Say maybe around nineish, at breakfast?"

"You're supposed to be meeting Hunter and Shawn for breakfast, remember?" 

Her bright smile faltered.  "Oh, yeah.  Forgot about that."

His grin deepened.  "Besides, I was thinking of eating…in."

She swallowed hard.  "Don't do that."

"What?"

"You know what."

He laced his fingers together behind his head, flexing his pectoral muscles.  "Don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I'll just bet you don't," she puffed out a breath, blowing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes, clutching her shoes tighter against her chest.

"God's honest."

"Liar."

He only smiled at her, continuing to smile at her, his dark eyes filling with a hungry gleam.  And it wasn't for food.

"Don't."  She reiterated.  "We can't get caught."

"We won't."

She shook her head, but there was an edge of hesitation to it.  She could feel her pulse in her ears as her breathing sped up.  "I wish I could believe that."

"Trust me," he asserted simply.

"You know I do.  Or I wouldn't have shown up here last night."

His lids drooped, and he stretched his legs underneath the sheet barely covering his lap.  Her eyes were drawn to the now larger bulge under the material, as he had known they would be.  "Come here."

She gave a small groan, knowing she was going to give in, but she fought it anyway.  "Dave," she breathed heavily.  But he interrupted her.

"Tina," He slid back the sheet, and crooked at finger at her, his grin fading away to a heavy eyed look that made her stomach turn flips in her middle.  "Come…here…"

"Damnit," she cursed without heat, but a small smile curved her lips.  Knowing she was beaten, Tina dropped her shoes, and smoothly shrugged out of her T-shirt.  She let it fall from her fingers as she moved towards him, her own cobalt blue eyes taking on the same look of hunger that his held.  She stopped just beyond his reach, her hands moving to the button at her waist, then her zipper.

Dave's eyes zoomed in on the bare skin she was revealing every second and a half, and he went preternaturally still.  His eyes, though gleaming with sexual desire, held something else too.  There was also something deeper, something more serious.  But as quickly as Tina saw it, it disappeared.

Her throat clogged with emotion and something warm and light moved into her chest.  She didn't have any illusions about him falling in love with her – though, she grimly reminded herself that she'd already flipped head over heals for him – she knew better than to expect a profession of undying love once her internship was over.  Knew better than to expect that she'd be anything more than another notch on his bedpost.  She let go a shaky breath.

But if nothing else, Dave Batista respected her, and for now – and probably forever, though she flatly refused to think about it – that would simply have to do.

For now – she'd tell herself that her heart wouldn't get broken.  That he was probably in love with her at this very moment.  For now – she'd believe in happy endings and honorable men.  That they wouldn't get discovered until she was ready and that her whole family wouldn't blow up over it.

For now – she'd believe in Dave.

Tina slipped her hands down over her hips, simultaneously sending the jeans down her legs, then kicked them away.  Anticipation sent her pulse rocketing through her veins and the mere knowledge of what she was about to do – again – made her breasts tingle and her panties moist.

The combination of having him all to herself, for however long it lasted, pushed a bittersweet, but heady giggle from her.  Instead of dragging out the tension by sauntering towards him – her original plan – she hurled herself at him, causing him to grunt and fall backward into the sheets.

Graceless, yes, Tina thought dimly as Dave's hot hands caught her naked back…but effective.  She absorbed the joy of the moment and savored the fact that – for now – he was all hers.

Dave growled low in his throat, nuzzled her neck, sending a wave of goosebumps racing across her belly.  She licked a path up the side of his neck, tasted the musky remnants of his cologne from the night before, and the faintest hint of autumn air. 

Mmmm.  Delicious.  "I have a confession to make."

Dave expertly unsnapped her bra, sending her breasts tumbling against his chest.  "I'm…listening."  He casually tossed the undergarment away.

No, he wasn't.  He was staring at her breasts and she liked it.  "I've wanted you for a long time."

He lifted those slumberously mysterious eyes to hers, which twinkled with the merest flash of male satisfaction.  "How long," he asked, his voice low and husky.

"Since the first poker game I played in with you guys."

Dave slid his hand up her bare back and a thrill of excitement moved though her.  "That long?"

She nodded, then shook her head in immediate contradiction.  "Consciously, maybe, yeah.  But the first time I laid eyes on you, you took my breath away."

He ran his fingers through her hair, pausing at the ends and curling his hand around the silky strands.  With a smile, he lifted her honey locks to his nose, and breathed in deeply, infusing himself with her jasmine and lavender scent.  An aroma, he was sure, that would haunt him for a long time to come.  His eyes slipped closed, long black lashes fanning out on his cheekbones.

Tina couldn't help but grin at the gesture, although she did wonder why guys always had eyelashes most women would kill for.  She almost missed his hushed comment.

"I thought you were too pretty to be so sad, so scared.  But you caught my –" he ground his hips against her.  "– attention when you faced off Davis with a pistol loaded with blanks.  Very ballsy."

"I didn't think you noticed me back then."

"Of course I did.  You'd have to be blind, or dead, not to notice you."  Dave opened his eyes.  "But you were with the Green Lantern."

Although no inquiry was voiced, she was able to see the question in the dark depths of his eyes.  She shrugged a bare shoulder, causing a pebbled nipple to rub enticingly against the wall of his chest.  They both shared a soft intake of breath.  "He showed an interest.  You didn't."

He shook his head with a disappointed sigh.  "We're not even gonna talk about how much time we've wasted." 

With a powerful twist, he rolled her to her back.  Tina leaned backward on her elbows, and watched him, her cobalt blue eyes gleaming.  Dave stalked up the length of her body like a panther, licked the inside of her thigh, and then playfully tugged her drenched panties off with his teeth.  Tina's stomach clenched, coating her folds with another rush of liquid heat.  A second later, that talented tongue swirled around her belly button, and then landed deliciously over her nipple.  "Maybe we should practice a little time-management."

Tina let go a shuddering breath, slid her hands up and over the supple muscle of his back and sides.  Hard and soft, warm and…hers.  If by that he meant that he'd take her hard and fast now, and save a slow session for later, then they were most definitely in complete agreement.

A part of her wanted to sink and savor – sink beneath the sensation of his touch, savor every orgasmic vibration he could pull from her body.  But another part, the desperate, mindless, Please, God, now! part couldn't stand the idea of waiting another second.  She'd wanted him for too long, needed him too desperately.  And like he'd said last night, this was a short trip, and they had to make up for lost time.

"I'm for time management," she said, her voice slightly husky to her own ears.  She pulled his head down for a kiss, feasted on his mouth until she was drunk with the taste of him.  "If it'll get you inside me faster."  She sucked his tongue into her mouth, felt him quiver above her.  She rocked her pelvis up, purposely put­ting his shaft against her aching, weepy folds.

"Oh, darlin'," he stuttered, a look of intense pleasure on his face.  "You're going to be the death of me."  Dave chuckled darkly, the sound at once sexy and compelling.  He bent and pulled the crown of her breast deep into his mouth, pushed against her, expertly bumping her clit.

"Yeah, well, it's bad form to kick off before I come, so try to hang around for a little while."

He drew back and bit the side of his lip, his smile endearingly crooked.  "I'll do…my damnedest."

"That's all I can ask," she deadpanned.  "After all, you're not a mind reader."

"Are you always this chatty during sex?"

She pulled a thoughtful frown, then spoiled the effect of a studious countenance by her lips curling into the most sinfully wicked, sultry smile he'd ever seen.  "I dunno.  Are we having it yet?"

"Is that your way of telling me to hurry up?"

"Ah," she sighed delightedly.  "So you are a mind reader."

Dave chuckled again, reached across her to the nightstand, and snagged the last condom from the three laid there the night before, then swiftly rolled it into place.  When he would have moved between her legs, Tina rolled him over and straddled him, felt the hot length of him bump against her puls­ing folds.  The contact pushed the breath from her lungs, made her quiver deep in her womb.

She couldn't wait another second, tilted her hips until she felt him nudge her channel, then slowly – deliberately – impaled herself on him.  Her lids fluttered shut and her head suddenly felt too heavy for her neck.  She seated herself firmly, took every last magnificent inch, then clenched her muscles around him, and rocked back and forth once.

"Oh God," she said brokenly.

Dave's lips peeled away from his teeth and he set his hands on her hips, gently increasing the pressure.  She rocked again, impossibly could feel her body quickening, racing toward re­lease.  "Tina…"

She felt the first flash of beginning climax, could feel her sex ripening, readying for release.  Anticipating the break, slid up and down, then she clamped hard, pulling him deeper.  Predictably, it hit.  Lights danced behind her closed lids and she bowed from the shock of sensation.

"Dave!" she cried as the orgasm crested and broke though her, pulling her under, lifting her up.  She flew apart, then re­assembled and, when the last tremor of release pulsed through her she knew that she was dif­ferent.  One of her parts was missing, a signifi­cant one located beneath her ribs, up and to the left – her heart.

She was unquestionably, undoubtedly, unde­niably head over heels in love with Dave Batista. 

~<>~

I can't sleep; I'm up all night.
Through these tears, I try to smile.
I know, the touch of your hand, can save my life.
But don't let me down, come to me now,
I got to be with you some how.
And now that you're gone,
I just wanna be with you.
And I can't go on; I wanna be with you.
       Be With You – Erique Iglesias

October 12, 2004 5:35 a.m. EST
Hunter & Nan's House – Greenwich, CT 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Nan inspected her reflection carefully.  She looked like hammered shit, she quickly decided.  Her hair was a snarled mess, filled with twigs, leaves, and bits of dried grass.  She had dirt smeared across one cheek and an ugly looking scratch across the top of her left breast.  It was red and angry, and only God knew what had caused it.  Because she certainly didn't.  More dirt and grass stains covered her arms and the exposed parts of her legs, wherever her tank and shorts hadn't protected her skin.  Although she couldn't see it, she knew there was another scratch, like the one over her breast, mirrored on her back, low, near the base of her spine.  But the absolute worst was her feet.  Scratched, bruised, and bleeding from minor cuts and abrasions.  No blisters though. 

She lifted her eyes back to her reflection.  Her face was pale, and drawn, with huge dark circles under her eyes, and a pinched look around her mouth.  The face in the mirror frowned back at her, almost accusatory, as if her reflection was saying, Look at what your pride has cost you, you idiot.  She shook her head, sending down more dirt onto her bare shoulders.  There was no way she was going to be able to hide this from Hunter.  These scratches weren't going to disappear in the time it took before he came home.  Nor would what looked to be a nasty patch of poison ivy on her left arm.  And he was gonna freak.

Turning away from the condemning glare of her own image, she pulled her tank over her head, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the shorts, sliding them down her legs to fall on the floor.  Her panties quickly followed suit.  Bending over was a new experience in pain as she scooped up the dirty garments and tossed them all into the hamper against the far wall.  Four painful steps over to the bathtub, she sat down on the ledge, turning on the taps.  Picking up a washrag, she wet it under the hot spray and began scrubbing the dirt and grass off her skin.  It took three passes under the faucet, wringing out the quickly graying rag to get the bulk of dirt and grass stains washed away, leaving pink, and somewhat stinging skin behind.  The washrag sailed across the room to join her clothes in the hamper.

Reaching over for the handheld sprayer, she began the long tedious process of spraying the bulk of the outdoor debris from her hair.  Leaning over into the tub, she watched the water go from clear to a dark muddy brown as leaves, dirt, grass, and other foreign matter fell into the white porcelain of the tub basin.  Only when the water ran clear again did she grapple for her shampoo bottle and begin to lather up. 

Five times she soaped, rinsed, and combed out the tresses for missed pieces of evidence of her outdoor excursion.  Five times might be excessive, but she couldn't stomach the thought that she might have brought back occupants – those creepy, crawly little critters that made her skin itch at the very idea.  She fought a semi-hysterical laugh.  That description, for some reason, made her envision itty-bitty little versions of Christian crawling through her hair, chewing at it, biting her scalp, and generally making nuisances of themselves.

Must have been the use of creepy, she told herself.  Ever since Steve had saddled him with the moniker of CLB – Creepy Little Bastard – she couldn't hear the word, even in her own head, without thinking of Edge's brother.  What a way to be remembered.

Finally satisfied that her hair was squeaky clean, she wrung the excess water from it, wrapped a towel around her head, and secured it with several extra long bobby pins.  Scooping up the soggy handful of the crap from her hair, she tossed it into the wastebasket by the sink.  She turned the sprayer back on and washed the silt down the drain until the tub sparkled again.  Satisfied that she could now take a proper soak, she flipped the lever to stopper the tub and turned the taps on a notch higher, and set the temp a lot hotter.

Lowering herself into the tub, she winced painfully as the hot water found each and every abrasion on her body.  Each little shaft of pain pounded it into her head that she'd really screwed up.  Leaning her head back on the edge of the tub, her towel making a nice pillow for the back of her skull, she closed her eyes with a deep sigh.  And finally, allowed herself to really think about what had happened.

She'd been lucky.  Unbelievably lucky.  She had no idea when she'd left the house, so she didn't know how long she'd been gone or where she'd gone at all.  Well, she knew now, sort of.  But she'd not had that knowledge until she'd gotten back home.  Falling back on her Girl Scout training, she'd set off heading directly West, hoping she'd run across a familiar point of reference.  It had worked too.  Let's hear it for the Girl Scouts, she though ruefully.  I'm definitely buying more cookies next year.

It'd only taken her about thirty minutes of walking, at a snail's pace due to bare and sore feet, to get to somewhere she'd recognized in the dark.  Their house sat on several acres of property, and she'd hoped that she would end up on the eastern side of the house, near the pond that could be seen if you looked out of the living room windows away from Hunter's gym.  She hadn't.  When she finally recognized where she was, the realization of how lucky she'd been was brought home with stark clarity. 

The first thing she saw had been the pool house.  On the opposite side of the main house.  Somehow, she'd gotten completely turned around in the dark while she'd walked.  That had shaken her to the core, because there wasn't anything on that side of their property except miles and miles of wooded area.  Theoretically, she could have been out there forever, with no way of anyone knowing how to find her.

She shuddered in the water, causing little waves to lap at her neck.  She lifted one foot from the tub and turned the taps off with her toes, then sank a little deeper into the steaming bath, until the water licked at her chin.  Yeah, she'd been lucky, actually crying when she'd seen the house.  The tears had flowed even harder when she went inside through the garage, and had seen that her new car was exactly where it was supposed to be.  Lucky, she told herself again, which was ironic in itself, since she didn't exactly believe in luck. 

Luck, in her opinion, like normalcy, didn't exist.  There was no such thing as luck.  People made choices, either good or bad, and the outcome to any given situation were the circumstances that came from said choices.  Luck had nothing to do with it.  Action, reaction, and consequence.  A very secular belief for a woman with as deep of faith as she.  But no, she didn't believe in luck.

Neither did she believe in coincidence.  Her grandfather had once told her that everything happened for a reason.  Everything.  And the fun part of our lives as human beings on this earth was to find out what those reasons were, if possible.  So what was the reason for her sleepwalking out into the woods of Connecticut?  She had a sinking suspicion that she already knew the answer to that question.  Although she was loathe to admit it. 

But the trilling of the telephone prevented her from having to examine that answer.  Not for the first time, she breathed a small sigh of thanks that Hunter had the good sense to install a cordless telephone within arms reach of the bathtub.

She quickly wiped her hand off on the towel on her head and reached for the phone, not really caring who was calling at such a ridiculous hour.  She was just relieved that whoever it was had interrupted her internal musings – even if it turned out to be a wrong number, she owed them her thanks. 

"Hello?"  She grimaced at how shaky her voice sounded.

It wasn't a wrong number, and the sound on the other end of the line sent a warmth spiraling through her limbs.  "Mornin', baby."

"Hey Hunter," she smiled, feeling her world shift just a bit closer back to center at the beloved growly voice.  "You're up early.  I figured you'd be sleeping in today."

"Nah," he yawned.  "Hard to sleep when Heartbreak's doing his best impersonation of a chainsaw all night long.  I'd forgotten about that."

Nan chuckled into the phone, more than pleased that Hunter was continuing his newly regained friendship with Shawn.  "If you guys room together more often, I'll remember to pack some earplugs for you."

"No need.  I'll get used to it again.  Though ya know, it's kinda familiar.  He sounds a little like you when you've got a cold and can't breathe.  Only he's a lot louder!"  Hunter pitched the last word loud enough so that she knew he wanted Shawn to hear him.

Sure enough, she heard a faint echo.  "I heard that!"

"You were supposed to, ya jerk!  You kept me awake half the night with that racket!"

"Oh, and like you were a picnic to room with while you're talkin' in your sleep most of the night.  It was Jack this and your mother that.  Drove me nuts!"  Shawn's voice carried easily to the phone then came through louder, as he took the phone from her fiancé.  "Gimme that!  Hey, baby-doll.  How do you put up with this guy?"

Laughing she answered, "Patience.  Lots and lots of patience.  Sounds like you boys are having a good time."

"Yeah," she could hear him smile through the phone.  "He's okay, I guess.  Still surly as all get out in the mornings though."

"Funny, I don't seem to have that problem with him.  He usually wakes up purring like a big cat.  Of course, that's probably due to how I wake him up."

"Baby-doll, please!  I don't wanna hear about stuff like that from you!"

Laughing harder, Nan's foot slipped and water sloshed loudly in the tub.  There was a split second of silence then Shawn asked,  "Uh, baby-doll?  What are you doin'?  Tell me you're washin' dishes."

"Nope, I'm in the tub," she giggled.

"The tub?  As in a bath?"  His voice dipped to a teasing tone she knew was solely for Hunter's benefit.  "With bubbles and…everything?"

"Gimme the phone, ya perv!" she heard Hunter bellow.  Shawn's riotous laugher preceded Hunter's softly asked, "Baby?  Are you really in the tub?"

She grinned.  "Yup."

"Oh Jesus," he groaned.

"Hey!  Ask her if she's got some candles lit and stuff!"  Shawn called out laughing at Hunter's discomfort.

"Go take a shower before I tell Beck what you're sayin' to my fiancée and your wife pounds the life outta you!"  As Shawn's laughter retreated, Hunter lowered his voice, and muttered, "He's a sick man."

"One you've missed."  Nan pointed out.

"Yeah.  Yeah, I have," he chuckled good-naturedly.  "Speaking of, we called Kev last night in Japan and woke him up."

Nan snorted.  "Bet Deez loved that."

"You know it," Hunter chuckled, the memories of Nash's colorful blasphemies ringing in his ears.  "Come to think of it, I think he invented new curse words over it."

"But he's coming, anyway?  You did ask him to be in the wedding, right?"

"He is, I did, and he will.  But only as a groomsman.  I asked Shawn to be my best man last night.  He said yes."

She felt the hot prickle of tears start behind her eyes.  "Hunter, that's the best news I've heard all day.  I'm so happy that you guys have finally worked everything out."

"Well, maybe not everything, but we're getting there."  Hunter cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion.  "I thought this would be a good way to start."

"A very good way," she agreed before changing the subject.  "Have you spoken to Tina?  She didn't check in last night."

Hunter grunted.  "There was a fuck-up with the rooms, remember?  She ended up rooming with Lillian and some other chick.  It probably slipped her mind.  I'll see her at breakfast.  Want me to remind her to call you?"

"Yes, please.  I just –"

"Worry, I know."  His voice took on a concerned pitch, as something occurred to him.  "You're in the bathtub at this hour?  What's wrong, Nan?"

She cringed, sometimes cursing how quick he was to pick up on things where she was concerned.  "Now, Hunter, don't freak on me here.  I'm okay –"

"Whenever you start out with don't freak on me, followed by I'm okay, my stomach twists up in knots."  Hunter growled into the phone.  "What's happened?"

"Evidently I went sleepwalking last night."

"You what?!"  He yelled into the phone, causing her to pull the cordless away from her ear.  But it didn't stop his words from coming through with crystal clarity.  "Where the hell did you go?!  And what the fuck do you mean by evidently?!"

She pulled the handset back to her ear and speaking rapidly she told him the whole story as she knew it.  Everything.  From waking up stiff and cold somewhere in the woods, the trek back, discovering the house wasn't where she thought it should be, everything.  Right up to her early morning bath. 

He was quiet throughout her recitation.  Too quiet.  Finally he broke the silence.  "I'm coming home."

"You can't, Hunter."

"The hell I can't," he denied hotly, anger and fear giving a harsh bite to his voice.  "You just watch how fuckin' fast I can come home!"

"And what good will that accomplish," she asked, trying to make him see reason.  "I have the nightmares whether you're here or not."

"Yeah, but you don't take off to God knows where in the middle of the night!  I'd know," he retorted.  "And where was Beck when this was goin' down?"

"Asleep I assume.  Don't blame her, Hunter.  I've done this before.  Not to this degree, granted, but I'm good at it.  Momma says they didn't even catch me every time," Nan explained.  "They'd only know I'd been outside by the tracks of leaves or whatever I dragged back in with me."

"I don't give a shit.  I'm still comin' home."

"Hunter," Nan sighed.

"Baby, no.  I can't be halfway around the world and worry that you're out walkin' around asleep for Christ's sake!"

"What if I promised to go see somebody about it?  Would that make it okay for you to finish the tour?"

"Fuck no.  I'm still comin' home."  He was quiet for a minute, thinking over what she'd said.  "But I'll make you a deal.  You go see someone, fess up to Beck what happened, and bunk with her until I get back, and I'll change it so that I'm home Thursday rather than Friday.  Hell, I wanted to come home early anyway to check on Legs.  That party still on?"

"Yeah, at the Cena's.  Beck and I were gonna drive up there with the kids on Thursday morning."

"Good.  Shawn and I will meet you at the Cena's.  Do you know anyone you can talk to about it?"

She half nodded before she remembered he couldn't see her.  "Yeah.  I know of a doctor in Boston I'd be willing to talk to."

"Okay.  You do what I said, and I'll stay two more days.  And no, I'm not negotiating on this."

"I wasn't gonna argue."  Tears leaked down her cheeks and her voice wobbled.  "I'm scared, Hunter.  I think I'm losing it…legitimately."

He puffed out a breath and his tone gentled considerably.  "No you're not, baby.  This is just a bump in the road.  We'll get through it.  And you'll be just fine."

"Promise?"  She hated how small and scared her voice sounded, and how badly she wished he were there just to hold her.  To keep her safe.  Even if it was from her own mind.

"Promise," he declared authoritatively. 

They chatted for a few minutes longer, talking about much less serious topics.  When he finally told her he loved her and hung up, Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, a whole ocean away from her, and fought to control his breathing.  Tremors raced through him at the horrifying images playing out behind his tightly closed eyes of what could have happened to her, yet didn't for whatever unknown reasons.  Unexpectedly, he found himself thanking something – something he wasn't even sure if he believed in – that she was all right. 

"God almighty," he breathed.  "When did she become my whole life?"  Opening his eyes, he looked down at his hands, and immediately was glad she wasn't there with him. 

They were shaking. 

~<>~

In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight
In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the lion sleeps tonight
Near the village, the peaceful village, the lion sleeps tonight
Near the village, the quiet village, the lion sleeps tonight
A-wimoweh, a-wimoweh, a-wimoweh, a-wimoweh
       The Lion Sleeps Tonight – Robert John

October 12, 2004 8:09 a.m.
Radisson Edwardian Manchester – Hotel Lobby  – Manchester, England 

Fighting a weariness bordering on exhaustion, Tina plopped down onto one of the many over-stuffed sofas in the lobby.  With a loud hiss, she immediately came up off the cushions, only to lower herself back down again – but more gently this time – looking around the empty lobby to make sure no one had seen.  Not spying anyone other than a harried brunette behind the main desk, she relaxed against the cushions, after looping the strap to her bags around her elbow.  She tucked them against the side of the sofa and lay back gingerly, stretching her legs out to take up the remainder of the room. She shifted on the cushions and winced again.  Tender, she couldn't help but smile secretly to herself.  She was sore as the devil and probably would end up walking with a slight limp, but she wouldn't take back one minor throb of discomfort, relishing in how she received every single twinge.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Tina took in a shuddering breath, images of Dave's naked form dancing behind her lids.  His naturally bronzed skin provided the perfect canvas for the artwork that was his musculature, sinew and tissue flowing liquidly underneath.  She could still see the way those muscles gathered for thrust and withdrawal, lifting a hand for pleasure or torment, caress or pinching.  And the artwork wasn't limited to just the anatomy that would have made DaVinci envious…oh no. 

She'd never been a fan of tattoos.  Now she'd doubt she'd ever be able to look at them the same way again.  Then again, maybe not.  Dave's tats weren't normal, she thought.  All black and frightening like Taker's.  Or just over the top, as an experiment in masochism, like she viewed Tompko's to be. 

Dave's just seem to fit him.  More like they were a part of his skin than designs upon it.  They definitely gave anyone who was interested – or who had half a brain – a leg-up with insight to his personality.  The Kanji script on his left arm meaning 'heaven's messenger' and 'angel' spoke of his quieter softer side that few rarely got to see.  More Kanji meaning 'soldier' under a small dragon wrapped in flames told of his approach to life.  There were more flames around his navel – she grinned.  She had definite ideas of something she wanted to do to that one in particular, but it would keep until later.  Those flames were very significant, Tina felt, knowing that many Asian beliefs had the soul of a man located in his middle rather than near the heart as proclaimed by most Western teachings.  And then there was the big dragon.  How he saw himself.  Or rather – now that she knew him just a little better – how he wanted to be seen.  Ancient, fierce, protective, feared, respected, dangerous, volatile.  Revered.

He could make the big dragon dance…and it more ways than one, she thought with a wicked grin.  For some oddly perverse reason, when thinking of the muscular magnificence that was Dave Batista, the only thing that came to mind suitable for description were the words of the immortal bard himself. 

"What a piece of work is man.  How noble in reason; how infinite in faculties.  In form and moving, how express and admirable.  In action, how like an angel.  In apprehension, how like a god.  The beauty of the world – the paragon of animals…" she spoke under her breath.

And there was another tattoo, one no fan ever got to see.  Her grinned deepened.  Damn shame.  It was in such a delicious place too.  Too bad she couldn't tell anyone; she'd definitely win the back stage pool among the female talent and crew since she alone now knew what it was, and where.

Oh, his tats were something else, she thought.  But those eyes of his did her in every time.  Deep, dark, observant, and so utterly expressive.  She wondered just how many people knew that if they would just look into his eyes, that they'd know precisely what he was feeling at that moment.  Dave didn't hide his emotions.  Maybe they didn't show on his face exactly, but his eyes told all.

She grinned and slipped her ear-buds in.  She pulled her WWE staff cap down over her brow, and thumbed the shuffle button to the new I-Pod her dad had given to her just a few weeks ago, when they'd all been home for her grandparents' party.

Immediately her ears were filled with a silly little song she'd always sung whenever she felt really happy as a kid.  Unexpectedly, she found herself blinking against moisture behind her lids.  Her dad had loaded that one into the machine before giving it to her, because she didn't have a copy of it.  Appropriate that it should be the one to play now, when she was happier than she could remember being in a while, yet just a little homesick at the same time.

"Hush my darling, don't fear my darling, the lion sleeps tonight…" She sang along softly, then whispered, "I miss you too, Daddy."

As was usual for her, every time she gave voice to missing her father, she always tried to conjure up a mental image of her mother, who'd died when she was eight.  And again, she failed.  Oh, she knew what Patricia Elliott looked like, from pictures she'd seen over the years.  But no where in her own memories could she get a good likeness of the woman who'd given birth to her.  It shouldn't bother her, since she had been so young when her mother had died.  But it did.  It bothered her a lot.  Normally she let it go, chalking it up to those fleeting memories of childhood that usually alluded adults.  For some reason, this time she furrowed her brow under her cap and tried harder, really concentrating.  Yet, all that came to her was a long-forgotten memory. 

+++++

 
Thursday, May 7, 1995 – 4:48 p.m. EST
Nettie & Bobby's House – Moccasin Gap, NC 

They were fighting again.  She could hear them yelling at each other from the open window near where she was laying in the hammock in Nettie and Bobby's back yard with the latest Goosebumps book.  She liked Bobby…he was a lot of fun and he was gonna be her for-real uncle someday.  Her face split into a wide smile, remembering that she was gonna be a junior-bridesmaid – because, at ten years old, she was too grown up to be a flower girl - at Nettie and Bobby's wedding, whenever they rescheduled it. 

She frowned.  They were supposed to get married a couple of years ago but Bobby had gotten sick.  Everyone said he was well now, but he didn't look like it, to Tina anyway.  But still, sick or not, Bobby wasn't home.  He was out arresting crooks with Uncle Brun.  It was her Daddy and Nettie yelling at each other. 

Tina's honey golden brows furrowed as her pretty face twisted up in an exaggerated pout.  She put her hands over her ears for a minute, then took them back down, not liking the tight feeling her head got when she did that.  It always reminded her of whenever she went swimming and got water in her ears.  Their voices were getting louder now, angrier sounding, and she couldn't stand it anymore.

Sliding noiselessly out of the hammock, she laid her book in it, and crept over to the window, careful not to make a sound.  Barely daring to breathe, she listened to what she could catch of their argument.

"Damnit, Robbie!  How long can you keep up this…this…lie!?"

"As long as I think it's necessary.  As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't ever have to know," Robbie returned heatedly.

"Not only is that just a rotten thing to do to her, it's also cruel to…everyone else involved in this mess!  She's gonna find out some day, Robbie.  Whether you want her to or not!"

"Is that a threat?"  Robbie hissed, ice coating his words.

"You know better than that."

"Yeah, well, it'd better not be.  I won't stand for that."

"Don't be an ass.  I can't fight all of you.  You proved that quite clearly ten years ago."

Robbie snorted.  "Oh Jesus, here we go again." 

"I cannot believe you're being so unbelievingly selfish about this!  Oh wait, yes I can.  It's always been all about you, hasn't it, big brother?"  Nan sneered.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like!  No one's feelings but your own matter when it comes to this subject!"

Robbie's voice took on a weary tone.  "We fight about this just about all the time.  I'm grateful for what you've done–"

"I didn't have any choice!"

Robbie continued on.  "–but this is my decision to make, not yours.  I've made it.  And if you fight me on it, Nannette, I swear to God I'll make sure that she–"

Tina missed the last part of what her father said due to the overly loud blast of an airplane as it went past overhead.  Once the sound had faded, she leaned a little closer to the wall of the house under the window, only to hear Nettie yelling again.

" –where you're wrong, brother dear!  I have every right!"

"You're not her mother!"  Robbie bellowed.

Silence reigned in the house, so sharp that Tina thought they'd caught her eavesdropping.  But then Nettie's voice came through the open window, so hard and cold that Tina almost didn't recognize it.

"Get…out."

"Nan, I…didn't…" Robbie started.

"I said get out!  Get out!  Right fuckin' now before I do something we'll all regret!"

"Fine," Robbie answered, his voice tight with anger.  "But this conversation isn't over."

"Oh, you're goddamn right it's not."

Tina scrambled quickly away from the window and swung back up into the hammock, opening her book randomly.  She held it up in front of her face just in time for the back door to open and the screen door to slam against the doorframe sounding like a firecracker exploding. 

"Tina!"  Her father yelled.  "Let's go!"

Her cobalt eyes shimmering with shocked tears, Tina obediently got out of the hammock and walked over to where her father stood waiting for her.  "But Daddy," she began once she reached him, "I'm supposed to stay the weekend, remember?"

Robbie gave her a forced smile.  "Nettie's not feeling very well, sugar-plum.  Maybe some other time."

"But Daddy, you promised!"  She wailed, tears beginning to trickle down, heartbroken at the thought of being denied her weekend.  "You said if I got my science grade up to an 'A' that I could stay Easter weekend with Nettie!  And I did!"

"Tina," her father sighed, with a frustrated look on his face.  "I think it's better if we just go."

"She can stay."  Nan's voice called from the now open screen door.  "I'm feeling much better…now." 

"See, Daddy!  Nettie feels better!"  Tina beamed brightly up at her father.  "Can't I stay?  Please, Daddy!"

Robbie took a deep breath and looked over where his sister stood in the doorway to the screened in back porch.  Tina waited anxiously, watching the narrowed eyes her father cast at her aunt.  Nettie only raised a red brow at his continued silence.  Tina knew that look on Nettie's face.  It was the same one she got whenever she was gonna dare someone to do something when they played Truth-Or-Dare.  But what was she daring her daddy to do?

Finally, Robbie nodded hesitantly, still looking at Nettie, even though he was talking to her.  "Okay, sugar-plum.  You can stay.  I'll pick you up at the Easter Egg hunt at Grandma's and Grampa's on Sunday, all right?"

Tina threw herself against her father, wrapping her arms around his middle, squeezing tightly.  "Thank you Daddy!"  She peeled away from him and ran up to where Nettie stood, yelling out, "I'll be good!  I promise!" 

"As if I really believe that," Robbie muttered.  Then he looked back at his sister.  "Remember what I said."

Her raised brow went even higher.  "Will do.  But turn about's fair play.  You remember what I said, Robbie.  You know I don't make idle promises."  Without waiting to hear a retort, she smiled down at Tina and tickled her stomach.  "Wanna help me make homemade priatzo for dinner, Squirt?"

"Yeah!"  She waved back over her shoulder as she went into the house with her aunt.  "Bye Daddy!"

Racing inside, Tina never heard his response. 

+++++ 

Frowning so severely that she was giving herself a headache, Tina thought about that argument, her mind racing to figure out what they'd been yelling about.  Or rather who.  She had a feeling it might have been about her, but that didn't make much sense.  Not from a ten-year-old child's comprehension of things, at any rate.  But that's all she had to go on.

"What the fuck is going on with those two," she murmured quietly, trying to piece it together.  Now that she'd remembered it, she just knew it was gonna drive her nuts until she'd figured it out.

Nettie wouldn't talk to her about all those fights she had with her dad a few years back, but Uncle Hunter might.  She'd bet her eyeteeth he knew what was going on between her dad and Nettie.  And he might tell her too, if she asked him the right way.  Now, what was the right way to wheedle information out of her uncle that he didn't necessarily want to share?  Because instinct and good common sense told her that he didn't.  That is, if he even knew.  But he had to, she was certain.  She grinned.  He wasn't called the Cerebral Assassin for nothing.  Not much escaped his attention. 

She immediately frowned again, recalling precisely with whom she'd spent the night.  Reminding herself that Uncle Hunter's overly keen observant nature didn't exclude her own activities,  Tina set her eagerness to unlock the puzzle of Nettie's and her dad's hostility aside.  Instead, she turned it to covering her tracks with Dave. 

Someone jostling her foot brought Tina out of her reverie.  She reached up and tilted her cap back, surprised to see one of her fellow crewmembers standing at the end of the couch.  She pushed the cap back so she could see properly, and pulled the ear-buds from her ears, turning off her I-Pod in the process.

Shonzi Washington was a stunning African-American woman, nearly six feet tall, with a runner's frame.  Her ebony hair pulled back into tight length braids that hung well past her shoulders.  She reminded Tina a bit of Grace Jones from her Conan movie days, mixed with a little Jackie Joiner Kursey.

The two women weren't exactly friends, but they did talk…sometimes.  Shonzi was too standoffish – too tough – to be friends with.  She'd once told Tina that she only had men as friends.  Women were just too untrustworthy, too catty.  A sentiment Tina understood only too well at times.  But she liked Shonzi, so she kept trying.  And little by little, it seemed to be working.

Shonzi stood with one fist propped on her hip, grinning down at her.  "Comfy, T?"

"Oh yeah, better than a feather mattress," Tina smart-mouthed back at her. 

"Bullshit."

"Ain't it just?"  Tina smirked at her, popping her head back a little. "S'up, Shon?"

"You gonna move to let me sit down?"

"Fuck no.  I'm stiff and sore, and meaner'n all hell this mornin'.  Cop a squat over there."  She gestured at a near-by chair.

"Jesus, but you get more like your uncle every day."

"Thank you," Tina's eyes twinkled merrily. 

Shonzi rolled her dark eyes, and fell into a graceful loose-legged sprawl into the chair next to the sofa on which Tina lay.  "Dickless has cancelled the morning meeting," she announced, referring to Bischoff.

"Sonofa….damn him!"  Tina swore.  "I coulda stayed in bed!"

"And just whose bed would that be?" 

"None-ya."  Tina stuck her tongue out at the woman.

"Hadda be somebody good.  I heard you ditched Garcia and Hemme."

Tina's eyes widened.  "Who'd you hear that from?  Lillian wouldn't rat me out.  And I know Air-head is still asleep, because," she affected a melodramatic pose, with one hand to her forehead mimicking the newest RAW Diva, "I absolutely must get my beauty sleep so I won't disappoint my fans."

"You do that entirely too well."

"Fans my ass," Tina responded disgustedly.  "Hell, Trish is nicer than her, and that ain't sayin' much.  And it'd take forty years worth of sleep to make that hyena beautiful enough to over-come her personality."

"Me-ow."

Tina tossed a glare at her.  "Piss off.  You, better than anyone, know I'm right."

Shonzi nodded slowly.  "I don't deny it.  I just don't let her get to me."

"You don't have to.  She's scared of you."

"As well she should be."

Tina grinned at the malevolent look in the other woman's eyes.  "So who'd you hear it from?"

Shonzi shrugged unconcernedly.  "Who's the one person we both know that spreads only gossip faster than her legs?"

Her mind whirled, wondering who could have seen her leaving Lillian's room.  Then she remembered a glimpse of pale, almost white blonde hair as she was getting off the elevator to head to Dave's room. 

"Margot," Tina quickly snarled, accusing one of Bishcoff's assistants.

"Damn right."  Shonzi crossed her feet at the ankles and laced her fingers over her stomach, fixing Tina with a keen stare, her eyes dancing.  "So, whatcha gonna do about it?"

"Leave that to me.  I'll take care of her."

Her eyes took on that gleam again.  "If you need help, just holla."

Tina's mouth dropped open.  Shonzi was offering assistance?  "What gives, girl?  I thought you didn't hang with the chicks."

"Let's just say I owe her."  Shonzi shrugged.  "You're not like the rest of 'em and you're startin' ta grow on me.  I must be getting soft in my old age."

"You're only twenty-five," Tina pointed out.

"Physically, maybe.  Mentally's a different story."  Shonzi took a deep breath.  "Where did you stay last night?"

"Would you believe me if I said down here?"

The other woman snorted.  "That would be a negative, Ghostrider."

"Didn't think so."  She rolled her head to the side to look at her.  "If word gets around to Uncle Hunter that I didn't stay where I said I was, he'll go ballistic and that's the last thing any of us need."

"Too late, T.  I hear The Game already knows."

"Damnit!  I'm in desperate need of some damage control here.  You and Danté  didn't stay together last night did you?  You haven't gotten back together, have you?"  Tina asked, hoping that Shonzi hadn't taken her boyfriend, a lighting tech, back yet.

"Are you kiddin'?  I gave that numbnuts his walkin' papers, and I have no intention of revoking said papers unless he does some serious groveling.  And even that's lookin' iffy right about now."

Leaning up on one elbow, Tina said, "Shon, I need a favor.  You mind if I tell folks I stayed with you last night?"

Shonzi's eyes gleamed.  "What's in it for me?"

Tina tossed a feral grin at her.  "I'll tip you off about a certain handsome wrestler who I know thinks you're scorchin' – to use his words.  One who I'm positive would curl your toes if you'd give him a chance." 

"That's blackmail."

"That's right," Tina nodded, an evil smile curling her lips.  "And this guy would make Danté realize what a dick he's being in the process."

"Forget Danté .  I'm done with him.  Tip me."

"Ah-ah-ah," Tina waggled a finger at her.  "Cover for me first."

Shonzi cocked her head, her braids falling over one shoulder.  "You sure you're not related to Triple H by blood rather than by marriage?"

"He's not married to Nettie yet."

"As good as."

"She's where I get it from, not him."

"Okay…so prolonged exposure then."  Shonzi sighed.  "All right.  I'll cover for you.  But this guy had better be good."

"I can't speak from personal experience, but I think you'll be pleased."

"How do you hear all of this stuff anyway?  The Game can't be that loose-lipped when he's home doin' the missus."

"That's my aunt you're talkin' about, so watch your fuckin' mouth," Tina snarled nastily, her eyes flashing.  "Unless you don't want–"

"I take it back.  Tip me," Shonzi reasserted, holding up her hands.  "And you didn't answer my question."

"How do I know?  Unlike you, make-up lady, Gorilla Girl hears all.  Eyes and ears open.  Mouth shut.  Make like the wall-paper and they just yammer away."  Grinning, Tina reached into her bag, extracting her ever-present notebook with a ballpoint pen stuck in the binding, and scratched something onto a clean page.  She ripped it out of the book, folded it up like a paper airplane and sailed it over to the other woman, then replaced the notebook and pen.  "Name and room number.  And he's stayin' alone."

Shonzi snatched the paper plane out of the air and opened it, her dark eyes racing across the writing there.  She peered up over the edge of the page.  "You're shitting me."

"No ma'am.  I most assuredly am not."

"Damn T, for information like this, I'll tell everyone you slept with me, not just in the room if ya want."

Tina laughed loudly.  "No thanks.  That's not a rep I need.  Just swear I stayed in your room last night – especially to Uncle Hunter – and we're even."

"T, you gotta stand up to him sooner or later.  But I get it; not today, right?"  Shonzi nodded wisely, folded the paper, slipped it into her jeans, and stood up.  "For a lie like that…and to him…I hope wherever you were last night was worth it."

Tina smiled dreamily.  "Oh, most definitely."

Shonzi returned her grin.  "T, if this pans out, I'll cover for ya whenever I can."

The blonde rolled her eyes.  "Stop jawin' at me and go.  You've only got," she looked at the clock in the far corner of the lobby.  "A little less than four hours to make an impact."

"Oh, I'll make an impact.  You can count on it."  Shonzi turned to leave, then looked back.  "Looks like you're on your own until we catch the bus to London at noon."

Tina shrugged.  "I'm good.  'Sides, I'm gonna meet Uncle Hunter for breakfast in about forty-five.  And after that, I've got…stuff…I can do.  So get out of here and let me sleep while I can."

She flashed a brilliant smile at the blonde.  "Cause you didn't get much last night, huh?"

"You damn skippy," Tina answered as she tugged the cap back down over her eyes.

Shonzi's laughter echoed through the lobby as she left. 

~<>~

Now that I've dropped out
Why is life dreary dreary
Answer my weary query
Timothy Leary dearie
Oh Manchester England England
Across the Atlantic Sea
And I'm a genius genius
I believe in God
And I believe that God
Believes in Claude
That's me
       Manchester, England – Hair Soundtrack

October 12, 2004 9:05 a.m.
Radisson Edwardian Manchester – Alto Restaurant – Manchester, England 

"There she is."

Shawn motioned to the door with his fork, causing Hunter to turn and see Tina looking around the almost full dining room, obviously searching for them.  He lifted a hand into the air, giving a slight wave.  He watched as she smiled to indicate she'd seen his wave, and then gesture to the hostess that she was to join them.

In a few seconds, the vibrant young blonde walked up to their table.  "Hi Uncle Hunter."  She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, then repeated the action to Shawn.  "Mornin' Shawnie."

"Good morning, Beauty," Shawn grinned at her.  "What?  No mornin' smooch for Dave too?"

"How rude of me."  Her eyes sparkling merrily, she walked around to Dave's side and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek as well.  "No fair playing favorites.  Good morning, Dave."

Dave grumbled something unintelligible and reached for his coffee cup.

"Ignore him, Squirt," Hunter instructed.  "He's usually a grouchy SOB until his third cup of coffee."

"How anyone can be grumpy on a morning like this is beyond me," she grinned making her way back around the table. 

"It's raining outside," Dave answered bluntly.

"So?  We're in England.  The rain capital of the world.  Seconded only – maybe – by Seattle.  Either way  I'm having a wonderful trip and I intend to enjoy every single minute of it.  For as long as it lasts," she answered.

"That's the spirit," Shawn interjected.  "Every day is an adventure, right Beauty?"

Tina winked at him.  "You know it, Shawnie."  She seated herself into the only vacant chair, beside Shawn.  "Sorry I'm late.  I think my watch is losing time."

Shawn looked at the aforementioned accessory and started to laugh.  "You'd probably be able to tell time better with it, if you put on right side up."

"Oh!"  Tina blushed prettily and proceeded to adjust it.

Conversation halted as the waitress came over to take Tina's breakfast order.  Her rather large breakfast order.  Once the woman had walked away, Shawn grinned at her.  "Hungry?"

"Starving."

He laughed.  "Gotta love a woman who's not afraid to eat rather than exist on diet pills and protein shakes."

Tina turned towards him.  "Shawnie, you know my family.  If it's one thing we believe in, it's eating.  Besides, it's just practicing a little Southern psychology."

"How's that?"

"When in doubt, eat."

Hunter watched the by-play between the two of them, his mind racing to conclusions he didn't like, nor could he prove.  So a lot of people had blue eyes.  Didn't mean anything.  But he hadn't missed the caution she took sitting down, nor the almost miniscule drag to her left leg as she'd made her way across the room.

"Rough night?"

"Pardon?"  Tina asked, her cobalt blue eyes wide and guileless with obvious confusion. 

Hunter made a rotating motion with his knife.  "Slight limp.  Sitting down like you've busted your tailbone."

"Oh, that."  Tina shrugged.  "Hard bed."

Dave promptly choked on his coffee, splattering the scalding liquid out of the cup and down his front.  Coughing to clear his throat, he wiped at the mess with a spare napkin Hunter tossed his way, with a pithy,  "You're supposed to drink it, Dave.  Not breathe it."

Dave glared at him.  "Oh yeah, thanks."

Hunter turned his attention back to the young woman seated across from him.  "So where'd you spend the night?"

Tina met his gaze head on with a smile.  "Not even gonna insult my intelligence by pretending to believe I stayed with Lillian, are you?"

"Nope."  Hunter grinned, taking a big bite out of his toast. 

"Good."  Tina paused as the wait staff laid a large plate of eggs, toast, jam, and sausages in front of her.  Spearing a sausage, she answered, "The other person in the room was Hemme.  And I tried, Uncle Hunter, I really did.  But she just made me staying there impossible." 

"She mumble in her sleep or something?"  Shawn asked with a pointed look at Hunter.

"Or snore?"  Hunter returned fire.

Tina shook her head, chewing heartily on her eggs.  "That I could have handled.  But no, she talked instead.  While she was awake.  Just a whole bunch of crap about people in the company, stuff like that.  But when she started in on you and then her, I just couldn't stay in the same room anymore."

Hunter's eyes narrowed, "Wait a minute…what'd she say about me?  And her?  There is no me and her!"

"I know that.  But don't be surprised if you hear rumors that there is."  She rolled her eyes.  "You don't wanna know what she said.  But it was filthy enough to make me want to give her a nice Colombian necktie, so I ditched instead."

"What a bitch," Dave grumbled.

"Concisely put, yes."  Tina nodded, reaching for her juice.

Shawn glanced at her.  "How do you know about Colombian neckties?"

"Slit the throat, pull the tongue out of the hole," Tina mimed the grisly description with her knife.  "Tango and Cash."

"Lovely breakfast conversation," Dave answered.

"Squeamish?"  Tina grinned at him.

He snorted.  "Not hardly."

Her grin deepened.  "So then don't blame me for knowing my movie references."

"Stallone movies, you mean."  Shawn laughed.  "Beauty here has a thing for Sly."

She shrugged her shoulders.  "What can I say?  Tall, dark and handsome does it for me every time."

"The Fried Green Tomato wasn't tall," Hunter pointed out.

"Not in comparison to some, maybe.  But he had the dark and handsome part goin' on."

"If you say so."  Swallowing a mouthful of sausage, Hunter nodded.  "So where'd you go?  Not out in the lobby?"

"No, although I did catch a couple of winks there a little while ago.  That couch was a lot softer than the bed I had.  Not as lumpy either."

Grabbing up his napkin, Dave coughed into it, tears coming to his eyes as his eggs went down the wrong way.

"What the hell is wrong with you, big man?"  Hunter asked, his tone falling somewhere between concern and irritation.

Shawn looked worriedly over at him.  "All right there, Dave?"

He made a waving motion and nodded, then excused himself from the table, mumbling about being right back.

"Is he okay?"  Shawn asked.

"Who knows?"  Hunter shrugged.  "Probably just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Or the wrong side of someone else," Shawn grinned.

Hunter returned it, pointing his fork at him.  "Now that is the most likely."

"Uncle Hunter, please.  I'm eating here," Tina protested the crass shift in topic with a frown.

"Sorry, Squirt."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Shawn spoke up again.  "Maybe I should go check on him."

"Nah, he's a big boy," Hunter denied. 

"I'm sure he can take care of himself,"  Tina agreed.  "Although that enziguri he took from Benoit looked pretty painful."

Dave chose that moment to return.  "Sorry."

"You gonna live?"  Hunter asked.

He nodded at his friend, then turned to Tina.  "Listen at you, learning all the big wrestling talk."

Tina grinned at him.  "One of the first things you learn in all anthropological studies is how vital it is to learn the language of the culture you're studying, and to communicate in kind."

"We're not a true culture, though," Dave argued.  "More like a sub-culture maybe."

"A closed societal sub-culture.  But you guys do have your own vocabulary," she pointed out.  "The definition fits."

"Very true."  Shawn agreed.  "I wanna know more about this paper you're writing."

"And I wanna know who you stayed with last night," Hunter interjected, growing weary of getting off track of his original subject.

Tina looked up at him, her eyes bright.  "Didn't I say?  Shon."

"Who's Shon?"  Hunter asked.

"Shonzi.  The make-up artist," Shawn answered.

Hunter cocked his head.  "I thought she had boyfriend or something."

"Or something," Tina explained.  "Danté in lighting.  But they broke up.  So I bunked with her."

Appeased, Hunter nodded, then changed the subject.  "You need to call home, Squirt.  Something you forgot to do last night."

"Oh, crap!"  Tina exclaimed.  "I knew I was forgetting something!  How pissed is Nettie at me, Uncle Hunter?"

"Not.  More worried."

"That's worse."  Tina groaned lowering her forehead to rest in her palm.  "Okay.  I'll call right after we're done.  Not like I've got anything else to do really until noon…and no where to do it either."

"Why then?"  Shawn asked.

"Because that's when the tech-bus leaves for London.  And Shon checked out already, claiming she had something else to do, so I'm in the lurch until then."  She looked over at Hunter.  "But you're still going with me to Nottingham Castle on Wednesday before we head for home on Thursday, right Uncle Hunter?  I promised Jack I'd bring him back something with Robin Hood on it."

Hunter leaned back in his chair.  "Sorry, Squirt.  I was gonna tell you earlier, but I got sidetracked.  Heartbreak and I are leaving right after the Southampton show tomorrow.  We're catching an early flight back, skipping the Nottingham show all together."

"You're leaving?  Why?"

Hunter shared a quick glance with Shawn then answered, "Legs' birthday party.  At the Cena's remember?"  He felt a quick pang of guilt at not telling her all of the truth, but he also had no intention of going to check on two worried women while leaving another behind.  "Plus, Shawn needs to have that knee looked at."

"No I don't," the man in question retorted.

"Yes, you do," Both she and Hunter answered simultaneously, glaring at him.

"My vote's with them.  Sounds like you're outnumbered, HBK,"  Dave grinned slyly at him.

"Fine."  Shawn balled up his napkin and tossed it onto the table. "Leave one wife at home, only to inherit three more on the road," he grumbled, but with a twinkle in his eye.

"I hate that I'm gonna miss her party, but I need all the days I can get to do my paper."  Tina groused.  "Please tell Stacy happy birthday for me and let her know I wanted to be there."

"Can do, Squirt."

"I was gonna ask if you could join me on an exploration of London today, but I guess not, huh?"  At Hunter's negative headshake, Tina sighed, sounding forlorn.  "Oh well.  London and Nottingham Castle will still be as fascinating by myself, I suppose."

"They don't have to be," Shawn pointed out.  "These are all house shows, right?  So we don't have to be at the arenas as early as we would for live TV."

"I don't follow, Shawnie."

"Well, instead of waiting around to ride a cramped, smelly bus, why don't you leave with me after breakfast.  I've got a rental, and you could get me all caught up on everything I've missed since you started with the company.  Plus, we'll even get to London early enough that I can take you around a bit.  I'll even clear it with Bischoff," he offered.

Tina brightened.  "That'd be awesome!  But, aren't you riding with Uncle Hunter?"

"Nah," Hunter answered.  "Evolution's got a limo.  We can't take the chance of letting the fans see Evolution show up at the arena with one of their arch enemies, now can we?"

"Guess not.  The lengths you guys go to, sometimes."  Tina shook her head.  "That covers London.  But what about Nottingham Castle on Wednesday?"

Shawn grinned at her.  "Dave can take you.  Can't you, big man?"

Dave's head popped up, his eyes widening.  "I…uh…"

"Good idea, Shawn."  Hunter clapped him hard on the shoulder.  "I'd prefer someone I trusted to keep an eye on her."

"I'm not a pet, Uncle Hunter."

"Didn't say you were, Squirt.  I just know how these guys are, and you'll be vulnerable without me around."  He held up a hand to forestall the argument he could see forming in her eyes.  "Not because of anything you'd do, but because of your relationship to me."

"He's right, Beauty," Shawn added.

"And those ass-wipes will think twice if you're with Dave while I'm not around."

Tina's cheeks began to burn.  "He doesn't want to go with me, Uncle Hunter."

"No, it's okay, Ti