When I look out my window
Many sites to see
When I look in my window
So many different people to be
It's strange
So very strange
You got to pick up every stitch
You got to pick up every stitch
Must be the season
The season of the witch
       Season of the Witch – Dr. John and The Blues Brothers Band

October 30, 2004 9:42 a.m. EST
Boston General Hospital – Boston, MA 

"Yeah, hello?"

"Good morning to you too," a low, sexy voice purred into his ear.  "Although why I should be so nice as to wish you a good morning, I don't know, since you didn't see fit to show the same courtesy to me."

Dave found himself smiling at the pout he heard in Tina's voice.  He glanced around as casually as he could manage at the crowd of people in Proto's hospital room.  With the exception of the youngest MacDonahue – Baeli – everyone else was focused on John as he prepared to check out. 

He turned away slightly, though still aware of Baeli's eyes on him.  "Now's not exactly the best time…"

"You left in the middle of the night and didn't even say goodbye," she accused mildly, her voice laced with amusement.

He grinned, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners, and dropped his voice to a growly whisper.  "You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"You should have woken me."

"I'll make it up to you."

"I should think so," she answered, rolling over and stretching her arm over her head with an audible moan as she stretched.

Dave closed his eyes, biting back a groan as he heard the sheets rustle against her skin through the cell phone pressed to his ear.  "You did that on purpose."

"Yep," she giggled, hardly contrite.  "You deserved it."

He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Stacy come back at any given moment.  He was relieved to find her still gone, and Proto now engaged in conversation with the Guerreros and MacDonahues.  "Okay, so I did," he whispered.  "Does that mean you're canceling on me tonight?"

"Absolutely not," Tina denied, smiling to herself.  "I wouldn't miss this party for anything.  Besides, you're gonna love my costume."

Dave chuckled.  "You don't wanna miss any party."

"What's your point?"

"That was my point, darlin'."  His brows knitted together into a sudden frown.  "And what exactly is this costume that I'm now hearing veiled hints about from both Legs and Proto, huh?"

A breathy giggle teased him through the phone.  "Nuh-uh.  You'll have to wait and see like everyone else."

"You're gonna be the death of me," he sighed.

She laughed again.  "You keep saying that and you've not even passed out yet."

A smile split his face.  "Came close last night."

"That you did," she murmured smugly.  "You've got everything arranged for the weekend then?"

He nodded in reflex.  "As long as you hold up your end, then we're good to go, darlin'."

"Got it covered.  Hit a slight hitch though."

"Hitch?"  He frowned.  "What hitch?"

He could hear her slide on the sheets again, her hair brushing against the phone as she shook her head.  "Nothing too major.  Brent and George," she explained, mentioning two of the tech crew.  "They came up with other plans, plus Shon's got a date to this shindig so they can't cover.  But it's cool.  I'll just go to Plan 'B'."

"Plan 'B'?  What plan 'B'?"  He huffed out a breath.  "Tina, there is no plan 'B'."

"Dave, there's always a Plan 'B' where I'm concerned," she assured him.  "Don't you think Nettie taught me better than to let me get caught with my ass hanging out in the breeze?"

He groaned.  "Now there's an image to get a man through the day."

"Thought you'd like that one," she laughed gaily.  "I'll explain my Plan 'B' when I see you tonight.  It'll work out better this way.  Trust me.  I'd better let you go.  Don't want the natives getting restless," she commented regretfully.

"I suppose so," he agreed, yet made no move to close the conversation.

She heard his hesitation and giggled.  "I'm so not playing the you-hang-up-first-no-you-hang up-first game.  Listen, let Stacy and John know that Brent and George aren't gonna show after all.  Maybe they know someone who can use the tickets."

"The tickets I paid for to cover for us tonight," he grumbled.  "You'd better be right about this."

"I am.  Promise.  See you tonight."  With that parting comment, she hung up.

Dave lowered the cell from his ear, and closed it, lost in thought. 

What the hell was Plan 'B'? 

~<>~

Crystal water turns to dark
Where ere it's presence leaves it's mark
And boiling currents pound like drums
When something wicked this way comes...
       Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

October 30, 2004 4:22 p.m. EST
Chez de Helmsley – Greenwich, CT 

Tina had insisted on helping her with her makeup.  She was great deal more skilled at it than Nan, having spent years in theater arts, almost since the age of seven.  Tina also convinced her to pull her hair back into a tight French braid, so it would show off her exposed skin between the top and bottom of her costume.

Only when she was completely dressed and made-up did Tina allow her a peek.  Then she positioned her in front of the ceiling to floor mirror.  Neither one spoke for a minute.  Tina was the first to break the silence.  "You look amazing, Nettie."

"I look like Barbie Does Bondage."

"That too," Tina warbled happily.

Nan looked in the mirror, staring at herself. 

The top was mostly a leather bra with lining for comfort.  It was one of those that lifted and showed your cleavage to the absolute best advantage.  But it was tight and held in place.  Nothing was falling out.  Her silver H necklace was visible, though. As was her uncle's cross beneath it.  Hey, what was a vampire executioner without a cross, right?

Two leather sheaths covered her upper arms, complete with a knife apiece.  The knives were high quality, high silver content.  And although the edges were blunted for safety, they were very, very real. Two more sheaths covered her lower arms with two more knives, smaller, balanced more for throwing.  She wore black leather bracers around her wrists that covered the tops of her hands, tapering into a triangular peak at the middle finger.  Her diamond engagement ring glowed against the black like a beacon.

The bottom was leather shorts.  They were tight, almost molded to her skin, and high cut in the back so just a hint of her bottom peeked out from the hem.  They reminded her of Daisy Dukes, except where these shorts stopped, straps took over. A single black strap ran down each thigh and leg, nicely covering her scars, and smaller straps circled her legs, about every two inches, from crotch down to her knees.  The straps down her legs had small silver loops, sheaths, two more knives, one on each thigh.

There was a silver chain belt around the top of the shorts.  The links were thick like real chains and they dangled to almost mid thigh, clinking merrily whenever she moved.  Beneath it was a thinner black leather belt and two CO₂ pistols, packed with blood red paint pellets, rode on either side of her waist.  Perfect for a cross draw.

No knife sheaths below the knees because boots came with the outfit.  The boots were soft black suede with just a touch of heel.  A tiny stoppered vial fit in small loops just below the top of each boot.  Holy water, or something to give off that idea.  A nice touch from her 'vampire' fiancé…giving her the keys to his destruction like that.  She almost smiled at the idea.  Normally, she wouldn't be caught dead or alive in something like this.  But that was one of the many joys of Halloween.

Tina had been right, the hair was perfect.  And makeup was a wonderful thing.  Her face was still pretty, though exotic with the thick black liner that made her eyes look even deeper than normal.  She took in the whole image, and it occurred to her that she looked like something that would kill you before it would kiss you.

"Well?  Do you like it?"

She turned to the younger woman.  "Be honest."

"You look dangerous.  Like somebody's weapon."

Nan looked back into the mirror, shaking her head.  "Somebody's sex toy, you mean."

"Where's the downside?"

"Valentina Eleanor," Nan growled.

"Okay, okay…no more teasing."  She cocked her head to the side studying her aunt.  "A dominatrix maybe, but nobody's toy."

The frown deepened.  "Why doesn't that make me feel better?"  She turned her head to the side, and had to grin.  She gazed at the very realistic looking latex puncture marks that Tina had applied to her jugular.  The marks were complete with two trails of 'blood' running from the wounds.  She knew it was only black cherry gel – the kind you'd use to write on cakes.  But that made her smile, knowing how much Hunter liked that flavor.

Granted, her idea had been to go dressed as her favorite fictional vampire executioner, but she really did look more like the rogue slayer Faith from the Buffy the Vampire Series.  "I like it."

"Great!"  Tina giggled, tugging her full-length coat around her.  She was still keeping her outfit a secret from them, and all Nan could see where dark black seamed hose in extremely high black spiked pumps.  "Let's go."

They walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the living room where Hunter and Jack were waiting for them.  Jack too, was covered in a long coat, hiding his costume from her.  Hunter wanted it to be a surprise since he and Jack had talked at length about what he wanted to go to Fright Night as. 

"Wow," Jack breathed, then giggled.  "Are thothe real gunth?"

"No, punkin'," she breathed with a smile.  "Just pretend."  Then she turned her eyes back to her fiancé.

Nan froze as Hunter stared at her.  He didn't say a word, just stood there with a sort of half-smile on his face.  Then the half smile bloomed into a full grin, showing off the four silver fangs that he'd worn in Blade Trinity, and Nan felt something tighten low in her abdomen.  He wore a simple black suit, with a silk black dress shirt and matching tie.  He even had his hair pulled back from the crown of his head into a small ponytail, leaving the rest to drape over his shoulders.  Add in those silver fangs and the contact lenses that made his whisky eyes glow yellow, and he was Jarko Grimwood all over again.

"Well say something, damnit."

He licked his lips through the fangs.  "If I complain, will you just shoot me?"

"No laughing," she ordered.  "I'm self-conscious enough a it is."

The smile got wider.  His voice was a little choked, but he managed, "Wonderful.  You're absolutely breathtaking…and equally as lethal."

That was the right thing to say.  There were only two things a woman could do when she was dressed like she was.  She could be embarrassed, or she could be aggressive.  Nan went with the later.

She stalked towards him, putting a little extra sway into her walk.  The boots made it easier somehow, giving it just the right roll.  She put into her eyes, her face, what the outfit promised – sex, violence, and heat.

The humor faded from Hunter's face, replaced by an answering heat and a hesitation, like he wasn't exactly sure that they should be doing this in front of an audience.  She stopped just in front of him, legs apart.  She stared up at him, defying him to think it was funny.  She put a finger to his lips, tailing her fingertip down his cheek, his neck, caressing the edge of his throat, tracing the skin until it vanished down the collar of his dress shirt. 

Turning slowly to give him a good view of the high cut shorts, she stalked to the couch, fetching her leather trench coat.  She threw it over one shoulder so that it trailed down like a limp body, not hiding much of the outfit.  She opened the door and stood just for a moment framed in it.

"Coming?"  She said as she waked away without waiting for an answer, save to look coyly back at him over her shoulder, her lashes lowered seductively.

The look on Hunter's face was enough.  He looked like she'd hit him between the eyes with his own sledgehammer.  She heard him murmur, "Jesus, I'm in deep shit here tonight."

Tina's laughter, as she scooped Jack up and followed them through the door, echoed into the night. 

~<>~

A presence dark invades the fair
And gives the horses ample scare
Chaos rains and panic fills the air
When something wicked this way comes...
       Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

October 30, 2004 5:05 p.m. EST
Fright Night  – McMahon Mansion Entrance - Greenwich, CT 

Jack shrugged out of his coat the minute they hit the outer doors and got in line to go into Fright Night, the McMahon's annual charity gala.  Tina caught the garment before it hit the floor, laughing as Jack bounced on one foot.

"Lookit my cothtume, Mith Nan!  Are you thurprithed?  Huh?  Are ya?"

Nan beamed at the little boy dressed exactly as Hunter had dressed when he was billed as the Greenwich Blueblood, right down to the red hunting jacket with tails.  He even had his hair, much longer now than it was when he'd first come to stay with them in September, pulled back into an itty-bitty ponytail.  He was adorable.

"Yeah, punkin'," she breathed softly.  "Very surprised.  You look very handsome."

Beaming, Jack reached up, took her hand in his, and continued to either sway or bounce as they awaited their turn to enter.

Tina sighed.  "May as well get it over with."  She proceeded to peel her coat off as well, passing it off to Hunter after collecting her Playboy Bunny ears from the large pocket, and placed them on her head.

Hunter did a double take at her attire.  "Oh, hell no!"

Nan looked back over her shoulder, her own eyes bugging out over Tina's red satin bustier and bunny ears.  Then she erupted in laughter.  "Tina you look great!"

The blonde turned a bright smile on her aunt.  "Thanks Nettie."

Hunter fixed outraged eyes on his fiancé.  "You can't tell me you approve of her costume!"

"Why not?"  Nan countered.  "She's more covered in that than she ever is in one of those string bikini's she's so fond of.  Besides, she's beautiful in it."

"Sexy, sexy!"  Jericho added, receiving a punch to his shoulder from Rosie.  "In…in…a very conservatively modest way, of course."

A snort of laughter came from Gene Simmons – a.k.a. Edge – where he stood with Karen, dressed to the nines as Elvira.  "Modest my ass.  She's hot enough to make a man go blind!  Ow!"  He yelled as Karen pinched him.  "That hurt, woman!"

"It was supposed to," she hissed, then turned a bright smile on Tina.  "Don't listen to them, honey.  You look fantastic."

Tina gave her a grateful smile.  "Thanks, Karen."  She turned worried eyes on her uncle.  "Uncle Hunter, please don't be mad at me.  Don't ruin this for me."

He looked into those cobalt eyes, and melted.  With a sigh, he said,  "Sorry, squirt.  But you can't blame me for being protective.  I know how these animals are.  If a single one of them do or say anything out of line to you, you tell me and I'll split 'em from stem to stern.  Got me?"

She nodded brightly.  "I gotcha, Uncle Hunter.  But not to worry.  I'm sure Bodyguard Dave will be on duty as soon as he gets here," she groused.

"He's already here," Rosie piped up, and she rocked back and forth, shivering slightly.  "And my God, but he'll take your breath away in his get-up."

"Really?"  Tina asked.  "What's he dressed as?"

"Oh, no," Rosie purred.  "Some things just can't be done justice with words.  You've got to see it to believe it."

"Hey!"  Jericho yelled.

She turned a raised eyebrow to him.  "If you can look, so can I."

Stephanie McMahon greeted the Helmsley party as they came through the entrance.  "Good to see you, Tina.  Looking good, Hunter."  She turned a malevolent look on Nan, and ignored Jack all together.  Which was just fine with Nan when the other woman said with a sneer, "Well, well, look who we've got here.  It's just amazing what Daddy invites into his home these days."

"Oh, for God's sake.  Give it up, Steph.  It's been three years.  You lost.  Just let it go."  Jericho called as Rosie moved up to stand shoulder to shoulder with her soon to be sister-in-law.

"Why don't you crawl back into your bottle, Jeanie, before someone decides to recycle you," Rosie groused, irritated with Stephanie's seemingly unprovoked attack on Nan.

Stephanie turned hateful eyes on Rosie.  "Just because you're Hunter's sister and you're fucking Jericho here – "

"Hey!"  Jericho bellowed.

Nan clapped two hands over Jack's ears.

Rosie hissed, "You little–"

But Hunter's voice rose above them all.  "That's enough, Steph!"

"Boss Lady, I need to know if Carlito's here," John's voice interrupted them before they all could really get rolling.

This stopped both Nan and Hunter immediately, effectively turning the big man's attention away from his ex-wife.  "Why don't you just find Legs, Cena?  Give it a rest."

"I don't recall asking you," John pointed out, not bothering to gaze over at the larger man.  Most of that was because vampires freaked him out, and he wasn't quite sure that he could have hidden that fact, if he stared directly at the other man with his metal fangs and blinding yellow eyes.  "C'mon, Boss Lady, I know you have a master list here somewhere in case of a fire.  Please just do me this favor.  I don't want to know who he came as.  Just if he's here."

Nan turned away from John in disgust just as Dave came into sight.  "Holy shit," she breathed softly, her eyes glued to the vision headed their way.

"What?"  Tina asked turning to follow Nan's gaze.  "Oh.  My.  God."

Dave Batista strode towards them, wearing a Roman Centurion's uniform.  His incredibly broad chest was covered in a shinning brass chest plate with a scarlet waist-length cape clipped to his shoulders.  Underneath the chest plate was a short toga, stopping at mid thigh, and over it rested a Roman Battle Skirt, a leather belt with more strips of leather hanging to the hem of the toga, covered in brass studs.  He even had on the brass shin guards and leather sandals.  Under his arm, he carried a helmet, complete with chin and neck guards, as well as a scarlet crest on the top.

He stopped just short of them, his eyes widening when he spotted Tina.  "Woah," he muttered softly, then addressed her directly.  "You look great, Tina.  That's uhm…quite a costume you've got there."

"You think so?"  Tina asked, her eyes wide with innocence.  "Uncle Hunter thinks it's too revealing."

Dave glanced over at his friend and saw the scowl.  He nodded.  "I can, uhm…see why he'd feel that way."  He turned slightly and said, "Don't worry, man.  I'm on the job."

Hunter pointed a finger at him.  "Don't you let anyone near her tonight," he growled low, so that only Dave could hear it.

Dave smiled.  "Not a problem."  He looked over at Nan, Karen, and Rosie, his eyes dancing.  "Evening ladies."

Nan and Karen giggled.  "Hey Dave."

Two sickeningly sweet voices sang out – again – as Edge and Jericho made their presence known.  "Hey Dave."

"Idiots," he grumbled under his breath.

"Hey, doctor!"  A small voice called from John's side.

"Hey!"  John chortled.  "Action Jackson!  Gimmie some skin, homey!" 

Jack slapped John's outstretched palm with a childish cackle.  "You feelin' all better, doctor?"

"Sure am, little man."  A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.  "But I think someone's lookin' for ya."

"Cam!"  Jack yelled, tearing after the little boy with Shawn Michaels limping along behind them.  John chuckled.  "Cute kid."

"Yeah," Dave rumbled beside him, not really listening to what his friend was saying.

John looked up and saw what had caught his buddy's attention.  "I'll bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween, eh Beast," he whispered conspiratorially at Dave as he watched Tina walk slightly ahead of him, then stop, and look back over her shoulder at them.

Dave didn't even look his way.  "Try and act your age, Proto.  I know it's a stretch for you, but at least make the effort, okay?"  The big man left him standing there to follow after the Playboy Bunny.

John shrugged and turned his attention back to Stephanie.

Nan tuned back into their conversation just in time to hear John say, "And Jeannie, you're sworn to grant me three wishes tonight.  I only want to cash one of them in, which leaves two for you to use at your discretion.  Anything you'd possibly want from me, I'll be obliged to deliver."

Stephanie blushed hotly.  "You strike a hard bargain there, John."

"You have absolutely no idea."

"Fine, lemme check," she whispered, struggling not to smile, as she moved away.

John couldn't help his own toothy grin, as he glanced over at Hunter and Nan.  "Liked that, didn't you?"

"Grow up," Hunter snarled.

Rebecca approached them hesitantly with a furrowed brow.  "Is that – your constant flirting with Stephanie McMahon – the reason why Skye's so upset right now?"

"She's actually upset?"

"Yeah.  Go talk to her."

"In a sec," John sighed deeply, "Just as soon as the Boss Lady gets her fine little ass back here."

Rebecca turned to the other woman in confusion.  "Am I speaking Chinese?"

"No, but slapping the taste outta his damn mouth translates easily into any language," Nan scowled, as she shook her head.  "And if she won't do it, I will."

John cast a look in their direction.  "She's fine.  I'll talk to her in a second.  Go enjoy the party."

Hunter tended to agree with the women by his side.  Sure, Stacy was as moody as they came, but treating her, even temporarily, like her feelings didn't count, was a tad insensitive.  Particularly, in order to confront another superstar.  This wasn't in-ring business, and he could relate to what Cena was going through, but his inquiry would only lead to trouble.  Everybody knew that.  Especially Stacy.

"Fine, let's go, baby.  The Good Doctor thinks he knows what he's doing," he muttered, offering the other man one last warning look, before assisting Nan with taking off her coat.  He snickered at the cough that erupted from John at the sight of the scantily clad copper-haired beauty's attire.  Then he caught the slightly green around the gills look on the young superstar's face at the blood trail running down Nan's neck.

"Uhm, Nan…I, uh…you might wanna check that," John gulped hard.

Grinning wickedly, Hunter nodded.  "I think you might be right."  With malicious intent, he pushed Nan's head to the side, causing the woman in question to moan, her eyes drifting shut.  Hunter opened his mouth wide, baring his fangs, to swoop down on her neck, stopping short of the skin.  With his glowing eyes trained on John, Hunter darted his tongue out and ran it up the 'blood-trail,' wiping away every trace.  He ran his tongue over his fangs and lips, leaving behind a crimson stain on both. 

Then he grinned at John, and the younger man could swear he saw blood dripping off those steel fangs.  "Oh, man," he whispered, his face going slightly pale at the sight.

Hunter and Nan laughed heartily, and left John to stare as they stalked off to meet up with the rest of their friends.  "I hate those people," he muttered under his breath. 

~<>~

Ill winds mark its fearsome flight,
And autumn branches creak with fright.
The landscape turns to ashen crumbs,
When something wicked this way comes...
       Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

October 30, 2004 6:05 p.m. EST
Fright Night  – McMahon Mansion Parlor - Greenwich, CT 

"What's Hunter's problem tonight," Shawn asked, coming up behind Nan where she stood glowering at the festivities taking place around her.

She turned and grinned at his costume, fluttering a hand in front of her face, mimicking a fan.  "Why Captain Butler, as I live and breathe."  Glancing around him, and not seeing his wife, she asked, "Where's Beck?"

"My lovely Miss Scarlet is looking for our resident Bonnie to the jackass Clyde."

Nan nodded.  "I think he's setting a record tonight.  Trying to see just how many people he can piss off in one evening."

"Well, if he manages to break Hunter's record, it'll definitely be one worth noting," Shawn commented casually.  "Speaking of, Hunt?"

Nan shrugged her shoulders.  "Oh, he's ticked off about Tina's costume.  Thinks it's too revealing.  I keep trying to tell him she wears less out by the pool at the house.  But he just won't let it go." 

Any other comment to have been made was forestalled by the dashing figure of Eddie Guerrero, appropriately garbed as Zorro, as he swooped down on them, only to go down onto one knee in front of Nan, his head bowed.  His black ankle-length cloak swirled around him like dark mists, floating to settle in a fan shape around his crouched form.

Nan and Shawn shared wide darting eyes at his behavior.  But all was made clear when Eddie, with his head still bowed, extended his hand, palm up, towards Nan.  "Señora, I apologize, but spirited beauty such as yours should not be ignored."

Grinning at the vaguely familiar quote from an ancient Zorro movie, Nan played along.  "I fear you're mistaken, sir.  I'm no señora; not yet."

"A señorita still, but you're due to marry el calde two days hence," Eddie tilted his head slightly to the side but kept his gaze downward.  "But in your case, it's a month and a half and if Triple H is el calde, then I'm really screwed."

Ignoring his blatant deviation from the old script, she giggled.  "Si, señor.  I am.  What would you have of me, el Zorro?"

"Señorita, I have a confession to make," he whispered, abandoning the old movie lines all together.  "I've been bad," he said in a remorseful tone.  Then he raised his head to show dancing brown eyes behind his mask.  "And I need to be punished."

Shawn erupted in laughter as Nan's face flamed beet red and Eddie got to his feet, wrapping both arms around the mortified woman.  "Don't be ashamed, mi cariña fiera.  Most women couldn't get away with an outfit like that.  Oh, sure they could wear it.  But they couldn't pull it off like you do.  To get away with that…you gotta have the ganas to make it believable.  ¡Los cojones muy grande!  Yeah!"

She shrugged away from him.  "Usted es un dolor en la nalgas, Eddie.  ¿Sabe usted eso, sí?"

"Sí, claro que sí, cariña fiera.  I know."  His eyes twinkled as he grinned at her.  "But you still love me.  Don't you?  Ah, come on," he nudged her as she tried to fight a smile, stealing an arm around her shoulders again.  "You know you do."

Shawn saw the wicked gleam in her eyes a split second before Nan slid one of the knives strapped to her arms from its sheath.  In a blink she had it pressed to the side of his throat, the light overhead glinting off the edge of the blade.

"You're right, Eddie.  I do…so wouldn't it be a pity if my hand should–" she scraped the blunted edge down the side of his neck, "– slip."

But Eddie, not to be outdone, tilted his neck further to the side, and broadened his grin.  "Ooh, mi cariña fiera plays rough!  Do it…come on…nick it just a little.  Please?  Pretty please?  With sugar and a cherry on top?"

"Eddie, do you know what the sadist said to the masochist?"  At his negative headshake, she leaned in and growled, "No."

His grin grew even wider if possible.  He looked over at Shawn.  "She's good.  She's very good."

Laughing, all traces of her embarrassment forgotten, Nan lowered the blade and sheathed it.  She smiled at her friend.  "I have to say, Eddie, you do make the perfect Zorro.  Antonio Banderas eat your heart out.  ¡Muy guapo!"  She peered around.  "But where's Connie?  I thought she was coming as the enchanting Esmerelda."

Eddie shrugged.  "She's here.  Somewhere.  Keeping tabs on Shaul, I hope," he muttered the last.

"I think I saw her out on the patio before I came over here.  I did see Shaul, though," Shawn interjected.

"Me too," Nan grinned.  "She was heading to the dance floor with a some dark-haired kid.  Who's her date, Eddie?  They look really cute together."

All evidence of Eddie's good humor immediately vanished.  He fixed Nan with a cold glare.  "Sometimes, fiera, you really need to mind your own business.  He's not her date.  He won't be anyone's date when I get through with him."  And in a flurry of anger and floating cloaks, he stalked off, in the direction of the dance floor.

She looked up at Shawn with confused eyes.  "What'd I say?"

"No idea.  But, for what it's worth," he commented as the furious Zorro stalked away, "if it's the same kid I saw her with, I agree with you.  They are kinda cute."

"Eddie doesn't seem to share our opinion, though."

Shawn chuckled, running a finger dashingly over his faux mustache.  "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a darn."

Nan grinned at the misquote.  "Censorship, Shawn?"

"Little ears, baby doll."  Shawn looked over her head to see Cameron and Jack bolt around the buffet table, with Dave and Tina right behind them, obviously intending to help them with their plates.  "Speaking of little ears, there's ours.  Tell me that Jack's not dressed up like the Blueblood, huh?"

She laughed, reaching up to toy with the cross hanging below her customary silver 'H' pendant.  "You've got eyes…don't tell me you don't trust them to tell you the truth anymore?"

Shawn barked out a laugh.  "Well, I am getting up in years, baby doll."

"Right."  Nan snorted.  "You're still the Sexy Boy, Shawn.  And you know it."

He ducked his head with a grin, fingering his chin, as he swept her up and down, for the first time, really looking at her costume after Eddie's comments.  He gave a low whistle.  "I tell you, baby doll, you are truly lethal in that get up.  Mmm!  Somebody spank me!"

Nan chortled at his praise.  "I think Eddie's ahead of you in that line."

Shawn's laughter rang out over the room.  Then he shook his head.  "Hunter's worried about Tina's outfit – which," he glanced back over at the red satin clad Playboy Bunny, then back at her, "is, as you said, much more modest that any bikini I've ever seen her wear – and yet he'll let you out of the house looking like that.  Man's an idiot."

"Hey," Nan's brows drew down in embarrassment.  "Don't poke fun at the costume.  I'm self-conscious enough as it is dressed up like Dominatrix Barbie.  I don't need you adding to it."

"No need for that, baby doll.  You look phenomenal.  Very sexy."

She glanced shyly up at him.  "Thank you, Shawn."

He nodded.  "Matter of fact, I can think of only one time when you ever looked better."

Nan's cheeks pinked even further, knowing by the look in his eyes, exactly which time he meant. 

+++++ 

May 12, 1989 – 8:45 p.m. EST
The Colonial Inn Hotel  – Moccasin Gap, North Carolina 

"Oh God, Shawn…" she moaned low in her throat.

"Like that, do you?"

"Mmm-hmm.  More."

His raspy chuckle filled the hotel room.  "Easy, baby doll.  Slow down.  Some things just demand to be…savored.  Enjoyed to their fullest."

"You're a tease," she opened her eyes to glare lazily up at him.

"Never.  I always come through on my promises."  Shawn's cobalt eyes danced. "You ready for more?"

Nan leveled a heated look on him.  "You know I am."

"Okay…here it comes," he chuckled at her then stopped.  "Now you know the rules."  He laughed.  "Open up."

She pouted playfully at him and opened her mouth, watching as he dangled the tasty treat just above her face.  He'd dip it down closer then just as she was about to take it between her lips, he'd pull away again, grinning cockily at her all the while.  Finally Nan had had enough of his teasing.  She reached up and wrapped her hands around his, bringing them closer to her mouth until she could wrap her lips around his offering.  

Shawn's laughter warmed the air around them.  "That's cheating."

She pushed at his chest, and scooted backward on the hotel bed, cradling the pizza slice he'd been teasing her with in her palm, chewing with relish.  "Inhuman.  That's what you are.  Trying to starve me to death."

He leaned backwards and snatched another slice from the cardboard box on the table beside the bed on which they sat and took a big bite.  "But you like it, right?"

Nan nodded.  "I have to admit, when I heard what you were putting on it, I couldn't stand the thought.  But I'll tell ya, Shawnie, I doubt I'll ever want another pizza without pineapple on it after tonight.  This is delicious.  Where'd you find out about this?"

He shrugged a broad shoulder.  "Janettey.  Who else?  If there's one thing he knows, its good pizza."  Polishing off his slice, he reached for the last two, passing one to Nan.  He watched her for a moment, as she ate. 

They'd gotten to his hotel room an hour earlier and had decided to have pizza delivered.  He'd loaned her one of his white T-shirts so she wouldn't get sauce on her dress, expecting her to just slide it on over her shoulders.  But oh no.  Not his baby doll.  She didn't do anything halfway.

The tension between them when they'd left the prom hadn't dissipated very much with their impromptu exit.  When she stepped out of the bathroom wearing, what appeared to be, only the shirt he'd loaned her, that same tension had ratcheted up a notch…or twelve.  She'd given him some excuse about not being comfortable in the dress, and how his shirt covered everything vital.

Yeah, it covered everything vital, all right, he decided.  But only barely considering the shirt was white and in the light coming from the bathroom behind her, his shirt didn't do much in the guise of preserving her modesty.  The soft glow shone right through the garment, illuminating her figure in a way that would make a monk's mind turn to mush.

And he was certainly no monk.

He wondered if she had any idea of how lovely she looked right then.  Sitting on his bed, wearing his shirt, leaving her tanned legs bare, scarlet tipped toes peeping out at him from where she'd curled her legs to the side.  She'd taken her hair down from it's bow, but hadn't combed it out, leaving it looking disheveled, like she'd just crawled out of bed, or was about to crawl into one.  Maybe that's why one minute he found himself eating quietly, contemplating all sorts of things he had no business contemplating, and the next minute he looked up to find her staring deep into his eyes.

"Shawn," her voice was low and breathy with just a hint of question to it.

The next thing they knew, he had buried his hands in her coppery locks, his mouth fused to hers, kissing her, pressing her back against the pillows, stretching out over her.  And suddenly it was utterly insignificant that they were supposed to be just friends.  Friends with no sexual inclinations towards each other.  Nan cared only that his tongue was in her mouth again and how it made her feel.  The fact that it drove away the burden she'd carried for nearly three years now.  Alone. 

But she wasn't alone now.  Shawn knew.  He understood.  He didn't call her names or think of her as a slut or of a whore.  No, she knew when he'd kissed her earlier that night that he didn't see her as every other male in her life did, ally or enemy, family or friend. To him, she was just Nan, a pretty girl who got his motor running.  And right now, nothing felt better to her.  The world ceased to exist beyond that.

He pulled away long enough to breathe, "What about Bobby?"

"What about him," she panted back.  "He broke up with me, remember?"

Shawn grinned and dropped his head again to run his tongue along the seam of her lips, pulling away just as she parted them for him.  He dipped down, darting his tongue along the underside of her lips, licking them gently, and groaned.  "I could kiss you like this all night long."

Arching her neck, she whispered, "I've got all night."

With a groan he lowered mouth to hers.  Slow, deep kisses, erotic nips with his teeth, his mouth gliding, slipping, and sliding over hers.  He caught her lower lip and tugged lazily away, returned to catch it again, then slanted his mouth firmly over hers, plundering.  He nibbled – he sucked – he consumed. 

The guy didn't simply kiss, she decided.  He made love to a girl's mouth, made it feel all hot and swollen and achy.  Made her make funny noises and feel shaky all over.  Made her feel like she might –

Headlights from the parking lot illuminated the room beyond their drawn curtains, but neither of them was aware enough of what was going on beyond them to notice.

– totally lose herself and fall for him like countless girls undoubtedly had.  His hands dropped from her hair to her breasts, moving possessively over them, cupping and plumping them through the thin material of his dress shirt.  His thumbs glided over her nipples, and they peaked instantly.  She felt like she was drowning, and somewhere in the depths of her brain, Nan knew that she had to stop him, because in a few more moments, she wouldn't be able to remember why she should.

Without warning, the hotel door exploded inward, causing Shawn to scramble backwards and fall off the bed, as a voice boiling with rage bellowed out, "Get off her, you sonofabitch, before I blow your goddamn brains all over the wall!" 

+++++ 

"Interesting night, that one," Shawn breathed quietly.

"Mmm…very," she murmured quietly.

He sighed.  "In a way, I'm glad Brun came in when he did.  Only the Lord knows where that would have led us.  Or the ramifications it'd have on our current relationships."

She cocked her head, glancing over at Tina, Dave, and the boys, then looked back at Shawn.  "In a way?"

Shawn nodded.  "Yeah.  I mean, with the exception of that night and when we first met, I've sort of always looked at you like a little sister."

Her face twisted into a grimace.  "A pseudo little sister that you wanted to slip the hot beef injection?  That's kinda sick, Shawn."

"Well yeah, when you put it that way," he frowned at her colorful description.  "My point, baby doll, is that once we grew up, we found that we were much better as friends than lovers."

Her eyebrows raised and lowered in contemplation, with a sideways tilt to her chin.  "Okay, I'll concede that point to you.  But where are you going with this?"

"You love him, right?"

She blinked at the sudden swerve.  "Hunter?  God, Shawn.  You know I do.  Even when he's made me so damn mad – like tonight – that I want to staple-gun him to the wall, by his genitals.  But I love him anyway.  So much I can't breathe sometimes."

He smiled down at her.  "Now that's a look I've not seen in your eyes.  Ever.  Not even with Bobby.  He's the one for you baby doll.  That magic one.  The one."

She grinned brilliantly back at him.  "Yeah."

"And that's why," he said, brining them back to his point, "I said in a way."  He laughed, though it sounded to Nan to be a tad forced, tinged with bitterness to it that she didn't want to know about.  "I mean come on.  Do you honestly think that Hunter would be able to stand it if he even suspected – "

"No," she interrupted hastily.  "No.  He wouldn't.  Not at all."

Shawn folded on hand over the other on the head of his cane, and leaned in to speak lowly, "Which is why I'm proud to be an adopted older brother to you.  And a protective one at that."

"I remember all too well, how it can be to have protective older brothers."  Nan glanced at him slyly.

He grinned back.  "Yeah, but at least none of mine carried a gun."

"Carrying a gun isn't the same as using it," she pointed out rationally.  "Besides, he didn't shoot you, now did he?"

"No," he shook his head.  "But I bet the threat still stands, doesn't it?"

"Nope," she giggled.  "He transferred it to Hunter when I moved in with him."

"Bet Hunt loved that!"  Laughing, Shawn glanced casually over at where his son now sat with Tina, Dave, and Jack at one of the tables provided for dining guests.  He sighed.  "Our families certainly do make beautiful babies, don't they?"

"They sure do–" she answered automatically, following his gaze.  And Nan nearly choked.

But Shawn didn't notice. He grinned watching them.  Tina was leaning in towards Cameron, saying something that had both little boys in giggle fits.  He glanced from one laughing set of cobalt blue eyes to another, as his own swept over the scene. 

But then his smile faded.  He felt a cold fist clench deep in his chest seeing the two of them together.  For the first time.  Faster and faster his eyes darted from one face to another, as his brain screamed out the truth to him.

He turned blazing blue eyes on Nan.  Between clenched teeth he hissed, "You never said a single word.  Not one."

Nan didn't pretend to not understand him and looked up at her old friend with pain radiating in her own brown orbs.  "Shawn…I couldn't…"

He cut her off with a slashing motion of his right hand, his face ice cold and impassive.  "I know you couldn't talk about it, Nan.  I know that better than anyone.  Anyone!"  He growled, then pointed a finger at her.  "But I deserved to know.  You should have told me.  You should have told me."

"Shawn…please…" Nan whispered, her voice raspy with hurt.

But he ignored the plea in her voice.  Shawn turned his back on her and, leaning heavily on his cane, walked away. 

~<>~

Flowers bloom as black as night
Removing color from your sight
Nightmarish vines block your way
Thorns reach out to catch their prey
       Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

October 30, 2004 7:00 p.m. EST
Fright Night  – McMahon Mansion Patio - Greenwich, CT 

"Hey, there you are," Nan announced, preoccupied with her search as she came upon Stacy out on the patio.

"Here I am."  The blonde diva muttered tersely, cocking her hip against the low brick wall and leaning into it, as she reached out and snagged a holly leaf from a nearby bush.  She methodically began to tear it to shreds in tiny green strips.

"Beck's looking for you."

"She found me."

"Oh," the redhead murmured absently, her eyes still trained on the room back through the patio doors.  "Good.  Have you seen Shawn?"

"Not lately."

"Well, shit. Ain't that just my luck tonight," Nan groused, heaving herself up to sit on the brick wall, reaching down to rub at her calf.  "Mind if I take a load off for a minute?"

Stacy shrugged.  "Help yourself.  It's a free country."

Nan finally swiveled her head in her friend's direction.  Her gaze fell on the green pulp in Stacy's fingers, watching as the blonde dumped the mess over the wall and snagged another leaf, proceeding to mutilate it as well.  "What's eating you?"

"The whole male gender," her friend grumbled.  "And please don't make a snarky comment about it.  I'm not in the mood."

Nan shook her head.  "Wouldn't dream of it."

That caused Stacy to blink and look over at her friend.  She snorted.  "Since when?"

"Since I've somehow managed to piss off both Shawn and Eddie in the span of about twenty minutes.  And Hunter's being an ass tonight to boot," Nan sighed with a frown.  "I just knew coming tonight was gonna be a bad idea."

Stacy shook her head vehemently.  "Tell me about it."  She thought for a minute, then furrowed her brows.  "What'd you say to piss them off?  And what's Hunter being an ass about?"

Nan threw both hands into the air.  "All I said was how cute I thought Shaul and her date looked…some Huckleberry-Finn-or-something-or-other-kid I've never met before.  You've probably seen him.  Looks like he's dressed up as the inside of garbage bag belonging to a junk-food junkie.  Next thing I know Eddie's telling me to mind my own business, giving me his infamous eat shit and die look and storming off!  I mean, really!  What the fuck?!"

The burst of laughter caught her  off guard as Stacy erupted beside her.  "He's not Huckleberry Finn, Nan.  His name's Sawyer…Sawyer MacDonahue.  He's the son of one of John's old teachers from Cushing.  He came with us.  He and his little sister too, Baeli.  She's the one dressed like a Geisha."

"Huck, Tom, same difference.  Although Huck was a lot more interesting in my opinion."  Nan cocked her head watching as Stacy reached for her third leaf.  "Baeli, huh?  Yeah, I saw her.  Appears she's quite smitten with Dave.  She's cute as a bug, though."

Stacy nodded.  "So why's Shawn pissed at you?"

The redhead gave a shrug, ducked her head, and answered vaguely.  "Maybe it's time for his medication or something.  Who knows?  And something crawled up Hunter's ass and died about Tina's costume.  He's being a real jerk. I decided I've had enough of it for tonight.  Told him to come find me when he could be a decent fuckin' human being again."

Stacy suppressed a giggle.  "You've got a long wait then."

Nan rolled her eyes.  "Don't I know it, too."  She grimaced suddenly, breathing in a hiss, and reached down to rub at her calf again.

"Leg bothering you?"

She bit back a sarcastic retort, and nodded.  "Only a cramp.  It'll pass soon.  Did you really tell John to go to hell?"

Her blonde friend jutted out her jaw stubbornly, prepared to defend her actions.  "I did.  And he deserved it too."

"Didn't say he didn't.  After the way he continued to flirt with Madame She-Bitch after you left, I'm surprised you didn't send him there personally," Nan observed.

Stacy sighed, dumping another handful of pulp, and crossed her arms over her chest.  "Don't you wish sometimes we could just crate 'em all up and ship 'em off to the moon or something?"

"Only on a weekly basis."  Nan laughed.  "Uh-oh.  Don't look now, but we're being invaded.  Males at twelve o'clock," Nan commented wryly, nodding her head towards the open patio doors.

Stacy glanced up to see Hunter and Jack headed her way.  "Okay so, there's one or two I can think of who can skip the Moon launching."

Nan leaned over to whisper,  "I hope you're talking about the short one."

"Who else?"  Stacy whispered back before she gave the little boy running towards her a blinding smile.  "Hey there Action Jackson!"

"Hey Aunt Thkye!  Ya like my cothtume?"  Jack asked as he came to a screeching halt, only to bend one knee, crossing one foot out behind the other, arms splayed wide in a perfect imitation of Hunter's former in-ring bow.

Stacy scooped the little boy up, planting a noisy raspberry on his cheek and answered, "I certainly do!  You're the best looking man I've seen tonight!"

While the blonde and the little boy chatted, Hunter stepped over to where Nan sat, and looked down at her until she crossed her arms over her chest, and raised an eyebrow.  The words he over heard while Stacy had been visiting her in the hospital replayed in his brain.

That man can just look at me a certain way and I can't breathe right, my heart skips beats, and my stomach drops into my feet.  And I'd love nothing better than to mount him in a broom closet.

Grinning, he lowered his lashes, so that he gazed down on her in that sleepy-eyed look he knew set off those butterflies.  He slid an arm around her waist, holding on to her loosely, seeing her heart rate jump a little higher, as that vein in her neck pulsed against the latex puncture marks Tina had applied.  "You ready to apologize to me, baby?"  Hunter spoke smugly.

Nan curled her lips up into a smile, sliding one hand up his chest, and gave him a shove, breaking his hold on her.  "When Hell freezes over, sweetheart."

Surprise shining in those whiskey eyes of his, Hunter pursed his lips and gave a short sideways nod, his voice dropping down into a growl.  "Fine.  If that's how you want it, you know where to find me.  Come on, Jack."

As the big man walked away, the little boy scampering off after him, Stacy murmured quietly, "Drawing lines in the sand again, Faith?"

Nan stared after him, her eyes narrowed.  "They're the only kind to draw, Buffy.  Any other kind are too hard to cross."  A movement near the doors caught her attention and she slid off the wall.  "Well, here's my cue to leave."

Stacy followed her gaze to see her boyfriend looking like he was going to join them outside.  "You don't have to go."

The redhead arched a brow at her friend.  "You know  what they say, Stace.  Two's a crowd and all that.  But, I can run a little interference for you if you like."

The taller woman grinned at the mischievous sparkle in her friend's eyes.  "Just don't maim him."

Nan winked at her.  "If you insist."  She made her way gingerly over to where John stood in the open doors.  She stopped a few paces away and nodded at him.  "Evenin', Clyde."

John nodded back, his lips twisted into a half-grin.  "Evenin', Faith."

She grinned up at him.  "So you finally get the reference then, huh?"

"Nope."  He shook his head.  "But Keebs does, so I figured I'd roll with it."

With a disappointed shake of her head, she sighed, then looked back at Stacy where she was now standing looking out over the garden.  "You gonna play nice now?"

John blew out a frustrated breath.  He was getting sick and damn tired of all of these Kliqie people telling him how he should behave with his own damn girlfriend.  Good intentions – although that was even questionable of some – be what they may.  It was still getting on his last friggin' nerve.

"Spare me the unsolicited advice, Nan.  I've had about all I'm willin' ta hear from you people tonight," he spoke almost tiredly.

Nan backed up a pace, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline.  "You people?"

"Yeah," John answered, pulling a hand out of his pocket and waving it around.  "All you Kliq people.  Latino Heat's treatin' me like I should be diggin' in a sandbox or suttin'.  HBK and Bex are lookin' at me like I farted in church – durin' communion.  Trips has already poked his sizeable proboscis in where it don't belong.  I'm sure if Deez was here he'd be pinnin' me to a wall somewhere, threatenin' me with Christmas dinner and all 'at.  And here you stand ready to keep me away from her like I was the friggin' enemy."

Not expecting the waves of animosity coming from the young superstar, Nan took another pace to her left, moving towards the doors.  Shock kept her from dressing him down like she would anyone else who'd spoken to her like that for just voicing a simple question.  But then, she suddenly remembered how very different her late fiancé had acted when he came out of his first coma…the first of many.  He'd not changed too much, only shorter in temperament with her – and her family.  Maybe the same thing was happening to her friend.

"John," she began calmly, using the same tone of voice that you'd use to talk to a dangerously irrational person.  Flat even tones, designed to not promote a flare of temper.  "I can't speak for everyone else, but I can say that I'm not trying to keep you away from her. I care about Stace and don't want to see her hurt."

"And I'm the one that's gonna do the hurtin'?  Is that it?"

She swallowed, her brows curving downward in her confusion, but she kept her tone even and non-threatening.  "You already have tonight."

"Yeah, you would take her side.  After all you two do see eye to eye on some of the people here tonight, don't you?"  John grumbled down at her.

"Where is all of this animosity coming from?  What have I done tonight to piss you off too?"  She asked him in confusion.  "And yeah, I'll take her side.  She's my best friend.  I've always got her back.  Even when she doesn't think it needs guarding.  Sorta like you and Marcus."

"Don't," he glared at her.  "Don't compare yourself to Trademarc.  You got no idea–"

"Okay, look," she held her palms out as if to ward him off.  "Maybe you'd better just go back inside and cool off a little before we both end up saying something we'll regret later."

"You're not gonna stop me from talkin' to her.  Not now.  Not ever."  Even as he gave voice to the words rattling around in his head, John couldn't help but feel a flicker of amazement that he'd even said that.  Where the hell had that come from?

She tilted her head to the side, sizing him up with narrowed eyes.  "Is that what you think I was gonna do?  Is that really how you think of me?"

He just crossed his hands in front of him, clasping them together, and kept quiet.

Nan shifted her weight to her good leg, trying to stave off the impending charley horse she could feel beginning to form under the skin of her calf.  She wrapped an arm around her middle, and hooked her thumb on one of the leather straps, allowing her fingers to rest lazily on the butt of the CO₂ pistol strapped to her hip.  "Let me ask you something.  We're friends, you and I.  Right, John?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to answer in the affirmative, to admonish her for being overly melodramatic.  But something stayed his words, and he found himself actually thinking about her question. 

This woman standing in front of him, blocking his passage to his girlfriend…was she his friend?  Yeah, sure, she was Keebs' best friend.  But was she a friend of his?  Really?  This was the woman who hung out backstage long before he'd ever signed up.  The one whose name he'd heard linked more than once in juicy rumors about her and The Rockers.  The one who later stomped all over Jericho.  The woman who played Kane for a fool.  The woman who wrecked Steph's marriage to Triple H.  The same woman who continued to run his ex-boss and his friend down at every available opportunity. 

A faintly familiar niggling voice in the back of his mind whispered…Nan…spiteful, cruel, bitch…want something that…can't have…do anything to obtain it, no matter…hurt in the process…Stacy…look who…in her corner…whispering in her ear…guiding her every step…she's no good…

He tried to follow that gapped conversation back to its original memory-roots, but was unable, and then Nan's voice broke through and it vanished completely.

"That's okay, Cena," she spoke almost too quietly to be heard.

John blinked his eyes, almost surprised to be standing just outside of the McMahon's patio, like he'd forgotten where he was. He had.  He looked down into the redhead's face.  And for a split second he saw something there he'd never seen before. Vulnerability.  Hurt. And the distinct sheen of tears.  But then it was all wiped away, as she schooled her features into an unreadable mask, done so quickly he was left wondering if he'd even seen it in the first place.

"Your silence answered that question better than anything else you could have possibly said."

Dumbstruck, and wondering what exactly had just happened out there, John didn't say a word as he watched the diminutive redhead limp away. 

~<>~

And by the pricking of your thumbs
Realize that their poison numbs
From frightful blooms, rank odors seep
Bats & beasties fly & creep
       Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

October 30, 2004 7:09 p.m. EST
Fright Night  –  Linda's Sitting Room - Greenwich, CT 

She hated this house.  What it represented.  Most of the people who lived in it, too.  And she was even beginning to hate Halloween.  She'd been right, thinking that they'd been better off if they'd just stayed home and watched scary movies on television.  What a disaster this was turning out to be.

Taking a turn down a corridor that held no partygoers, she went to the second door and twisted the knob, breathing a sigh of relief as it opened under her touch.  She slid into the quiet room, and limped over to a low table, turning on a lamp and fell with a soft plop onto a comfortably overstuffed couch.  With a pained gasp, she lifted her leg and laid it on an ottoman, and pulled off her boot, setting it aside.  She rubbed at the knot under the skin that was causing her pain

Yeah, she hated the McMahon Mansion, but she did love Linda's sitting room.  Always had.  It was the only room in the place that had any warmth to it.  And she had happy memories of this room.  Times when she and Stephanie had been as close as she and Stacy were now. Before Bobby.  Before Test.  Before Vince had sacrificed his daughter to the Undertaker.  Before Hunter.  And long before Steph had decided she was public enemy number one.

Still rubbing at her leg, she looked over to the fireplace, now cold and empty, and could easily picture the girls laying on the floor, one brunette, and one redhead, discussing the approaching summer vacation in ways that only two giggling teenagers could. 

+++++

May 2, 1986  10:28 p.m.
McMahon Mansion – Linda's Sitting Room – Greenwich, CT 

"When do you have to go?"

Nan glanced over at the wide gray eyes looking at her and shrugged her shoulders, reaching for another handful of popcorn.  "Sunday.  Granddaddy is flying up to get me."

"And then you're going on to your Uncle's in Texas.  For your surgery, right?" 

She nodded.  "I'll be there through the summer.  I'm supposed to go home first of August, though.  I'll call ya soon as I get back."

Stephanie looked down, then back up at her friend from where they lay on their stomachs on the floor, a bowl of popcorn between them, while they watched the television in the corner.  "You scared?"

"A little."  Nan nodded.  "But it'll be over first of next week, and then I'll be layin' around the pool on the base flirtin' with all those hunky Airmen, while you," she nudged her friend with her shoulder, "are just finishin' up your end of year tests."

Stephanie grabbed a pillow and thwacked her friend with it.  "Witch.  You don't have to rub it in."  Laughing, she dropped the pillow and fell upon it face first, mumbling something into it.

"Huh?  C'mon, Steph…speak English."

The brunette teenager rolled her head to the side.  "I said I wish I were going with you."  At her redheaded friend's surprised blank look, she grinned and ducked her head.  "It just won't be the same hanging out in the arena when we go down for a show and you're not there.  I mean, who else will help me aggravate the Fabulous Moolah," she rolled her eyes.

Nan giggled.  "Miss Moolah ain't so bad."

"What are you talking about!  She's horrid!"  Stephanie shook her head.  "I still can't believe  Daddy lets her wrestle.  What is she, like, a hundred already?"

"You're just pissed because she beat Velvet for the belt."

Stephanie shrugged and lifted up on her elbows.  "Of course I am.  But you just watch.  I bet you that Velvet McIntyre and Princess Victoria will be Women's Tag Team champs soon.  Mark my words."

Nan laughed at her friend and returned the pillow thwacking.  "I know better than to take that bet, Steph.  You seem to have a knack for knowing this stuff."

The brunette snorted.  "As if.  I wish Daddy saw that."

"He will, Steph.  I just know it."

Stephanie stared at her friend.  "Promise?"

Nan nodded enthusiastically.  "Promise."  She held out her hand, and Stephanie slapped it.  Then they slapped the backs of their hands together, mimed pulling a trigger at each other, then blew on their index fingers, laughing as they did so.

A sound from the television caught their attention.  "Oooh, turn this up…I love this show."  Nan sighed dreamily staring at the screen.  "Isn't he the most beautiful man you've ever seen?"

"Don Johnson?"  Stephanie snorted with a grin.  "He's, like, so totally not my type."

Nan rolled her eyes.  "Oh, yeah, right.  You have a type."

"I do so have a type.  I like them tall.  And blonde," she sighed.  "And with beautiful eyes.  And a voice…"

The redhead laughed again.  "You're describing Jon Bon Jovi, and don't think that I don't know that's who you're talking about."

"And what's wrong with Jon?"  Stephanie sat up and put her fists on her hips, her grey eyes sparkling in mock indignation.

Nan rolled to her side, holding her hands out in front of her.  "Not a thing, Steph, I swear!  You can have Jon.  I'll take Don."

It was Stephanie's turn to laugh.  "Jon and Don.  That's sooo retarded!"  She dropped her hands into her lap.  "But at least I like my guys sweet.  You just like them mean."

"Do not," Nan protested.

"Do so," Stephanie countered her tone laced with superiority.

"Stephanie McMahon, that's just not true."

"Name one," the other girl challenged.  At her friend's hesitation she laughed.  "Can't do it, can you?  I win.  You like 'em mean."

Frustrated, Nan blurted out, "Ricky is not mean!  He's very sweet and so – "

"I knew it!"  Stephanie crowed, pleased with her victory of finally getting her to fess up.  "I knew you had a crush on Ricky Steamboat!"

Nan recognized the look on her friend's face and sat up quickly.  "Steph, don't.  Please, I'm beggin' ya.  Don't say a word to him while I'm gone.  Please."

With a sly smirk, Stephanie finally nodded.  "Okay…I'll not say a word to him while you're gone."  But at the mention of her friend's upcoming trip to Texas, her face went sad again.  "I'm scared, Nan."

Blinking, Nan looked at her curiously.  "Why?"

Stephanie shrugged a bony shoulder.  "Surgery's, like, a really big deal.  And I just get this weird feeling that this summer's going to change everything."

Nan nodded, lowering her gaze, then lifting it to her friend's wide grey eyes again.  "I know what you mean.  But it won't change us."

"How can you be so sure?"

The redhead shrugged.  "Just am.  I won't let it.  Best friends, remember?"

Stephanie turned a blinding smile on her and threw her arms around Nan's shoulders, hugging her tight.  "Best friends.  Forever."

"Definitely," Nan answered, returning the hug just as fiercely.  Once she let go, and Stephanie had sat back on her heels, wiping at her eyes, the redhead girl grinned.  "Hey, I've got a totally awesome idea!  Dang!  I don't know  why I didn't think of it before!"

"What??"  Stephanie cried, finding her friend's sudden enthusiasm contagious.

Nan smiled widely at her.  "Why don't you get your folks to let you come visit me in San Antonio for a few days…a week…whatever…once schools out for you?  I'm sure Uncle Wesley and Aunt Miriam won't mind."

"Yeah!"  Stephanie laughed, glowing with excitement.  "We'll ask them first thing in the morning.  Daddy's always easier to get along with when he's eating breakfast.  He can't say no.  He just can't!"

"Especially if we tag-team him," Nan giggled wickedly.

Stephanie returned her smirk.  "Exactly."  She flopped back down on her belly, propping her chin in her hands, staring up at the television.  "This vacation's gonna be, like, so totally cool.  But first, more Don for you…since you won't be able to watch Steamboat while you're gone," she teased.

"Steph," Nan growled at her.

"Okay, okay," the brunette laughed at her.  "I'll stop."

The two girls watched the last of the Miami Vice episode in silence.  Once the credits began to roll, the brunette giggled.  "So…can I tell Steamboat when you get back?"

"Steph!" 

+++++ 

But she hadn't come back.  Not until over a year later.  Two days after her surgery, Nan had gotten a call to tell her that her beloved Granddaddy had been diagnosed with lung cancer.  She had met Shawn just a week after that…and…everything that had happened after that meeting made things so complicated.  Nan and Steph's vacation had never happened.  Steph was right, Nan thought with a sigh, still rubbing at her leg.  That summer had changed everything.  For more than just the two of them.

She sighed again, and put a hand over her face.  Immediately beautiful honey blonde curls and laughing cobalt eyes swam up in her mind.  And she smiled. 

That summer may have changed her entire life, but looking back she couldn't say she regretted it.  And she wouldn't change it now even if she'd had the chance.  That summer gave her Tina, such as she had her, and that made everything else that came with it worth it.  Even though she didn't know that at the time.  So absorbed with her own thoughts was she, that Nan didn't even notice the sitting room door open.

Baeli eased the door wider, hoping to find the ladies room, and instead found the scantily clad, yet fierce looking friend of Stacy's that she'd seen earlier talking to Mr. Guerrero and Mr. Michaels.  And she wasn't in the ladies room either.  Somehow she'd taken a wrong turn and ended up intruding on what looked like a private moment, if the way the woman sitting on the low sofa rubbing alternately at her face and then her leg were any indication.  Trying to make as little noise as possible, she backed slowly out of the room, pulling the door closed with her.  She didn't count on the hinges squeaking eerily, clearly announcing her presence.

The redhead spun around and speared her in place with that dark gaze, the severe frown on her face causing Baeli's stomach to drop a bit.  But as quickly as her frown came, it smoothed over into a gentle smile.

"You don't have to leave," the redhead called out.  "Come in if you like."

Typical teenage curiosity overcoming her, Baeli hesitated for a moment then moved into the room, leaving the door open, and walked cautiously over to where the woman sat.

"You're Baeli, right?"

The teenager nodded, smiling.  "Right.  But I don't know your name."

Nan's eyes widened just a bit at hearing the slight tonal difference that made her realize the young lady standing in front of her was hearing impaired.  She smiled at her, and lifted her hands.  "My name is N-a-n-e-t-t-e.  But you can call me N-a-n," the redhead spoke slowly, painstakingly making the corresponding signs with her words.  At Baeli's indulgent grin, she dropped her hands in her lap.  "Sorry.  I'm a little rusty."

Baeli gave a shrug.  "That's okay.  I don't mind.  I can read lips.  Where'd you learn to sign?"

"College," Nan gave a smile.  "I took a night course because I thought it sounded fascinating.  I loved it.  Though the final exam was a new experience in torture.  We had to stand up in front of the whole class and sign along with a song."

The teenager nodded sympathetically.  "What song did you do?"

"And So It Goes by Billy Joel."

Baeli made a low whistle.  "Hard one."

Nan nodded, grinning at the girl, beginning to like her already.  "Yeah, not a lot of repetitive words in that one.  But the girl who went first just blew everyone away.  She did Le Poisson."

"From The Little Mermaid?"  Baeli asked, her eyes wide.  "That's really fast."

The redhead laughed.  "Yeah, it was…she even signed the hee-hee-hee-haw-haw-haw parts, too.  Made us all look like rank amateurs.  How were we supposed to follow that, huh?"

Baeli laughed, and Nan decided right then that she liked this young girl.  And her laugh sounded faintly familiar, deep, yet sort of like tinkling bells.  She found it comforting.  "I like you.  You're funny," Baeli declared.

Nan couldn't help but grin.  "Thank you.  You're pretty neat yourself.  And I love your costume.  Very authentic."  Baeli made the sign for thank you, and Nan noticed the chopsticks in the young girl's hair.  "Now that's something I've not seen for a long time."

Seeing where the redhead was looking, Baeli's hand strayed upward to her bun.  "They're not coming down again, are they?"

"A little," Nan answered.  "Turn a little and I'll fix them for you." 

As the young girl did as she instructed, Nan plucked the chopsticks from her hair, allowing the dark mass to tumble free.  Deftly she rewound it into a slightly tighter coil, and slid the chopsticks through it expertly.  "Did you wear your hair like this," she asked.