When you love someone - you'll sacrifice
You'd give it everything you got and you won't think twice
You'd risk it all - no matter what may come
When you love someone
You'll shoot the moon - put out the sun
When you love someone
When You Love Someone – Bryan Adams


December 14, 2004 6:12 a.m. EST
Raddison Suite Huntsville – Room 340 – Huntsville, AL

Dave awoke with a start. Forcing his brain to focus on the clock, he gave a mental groan seeing the time read a little after six. Dropping his head back into the fluff of the pillow, he lent half an ear to the sound of a soft voice somewhere between the bathroom and balcony of the hotel room. Reluctantly he rolled his head to the side so he could at least breathe. And his eyes automatically popped open.

Great. He was awake at an ungodly hour, when their flight to Charlotte wasn't until noon. Now he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until she came back to bed. At least he'd been able to convince her to stay with him in his hotel room last night and the one tonight as well, rather than her staying at Hunter and Nan's house as originally planned. He'd even moved his reservation from the Colonial Inn in Moccasin Gap to the Hilton in downtown Charlotte so they could have some alone time without her family breathing down his neck once the wedding was over.

Oh, he liked her family just fine. Lord knew he loved her grandparents to death, and was looking forward to getting to know her aunts, uncles, and cousins better. And there was absolutely no doubt as to how he felt about Nan. They'd clicked from the first time they'd met backstage, and through the years getting to know her had proven to him that he had a good friend in her, regardless of what the rumor mills had to say about her.

Tina's stepmother seemed to be a really nice lady and her dad…well, her dad seemed to be okay too. Just, he got the feeling that Robbie, while seeming genuinely at ease with their relationship, was more pleased that it pissed Hunter off than anything Dave had done to endear himself to them. Not for the first time, he couldn't help but wonder what all the animosity between Robbie Elliott and Hunter was about. And something told him it had something to do with both Nan and Tina. He'd be damned if he knew what it was. But, he thought, his brow furrowing, he'd sure as hell find out.

Giving a sigh, he flipped over on his back and laced his fingers behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He really hated the fact that Hunter was gonna be a dick about this. And he was, Dave could tell. But, it was about what he'd expected. Dave was a patient man. He could easily wait Hunter out until he saw that he wasn't going to hurt his niece. He couldn't blame the man his attitude, really. If the roles were reversed and it was Proto, or worse yet, Baby-Boy going after his own niece, they'd never find enough of the body to identify unless he had his damn DNA on record somewhere. And even then, all they'd be lucky enough to find would be an arterial spray from where he'd cut the fucker's head off.

So, no. In retrospect he didn't blame Hunter for wanting to geld him. He'd just prove to his friend that Tina was perfectly safe with him and eventually they'd get past this and move on. His brow furrowed deeper. However…it was becoming more and more apparent that his own time to shine was coming. He was fairly bursting with it. Maybe not as soon as he'd like, but it was out there. On the horizon, hovering just beyond his grasp. It wouldn't be long now before he stood in that ring and faced off with one of his best friends and most stringent of mentors. He owed Triple H a lot. A whole hell of a lot. But not enough to not try for the big belt. And he'd win too. He could taste it.

Dave gave a sigh. But, the real question was, between that and this situation with Tina, would they be able to remain friends through it all? Hunter wasn't a very forgiving man, he knew. But he did do it. Hell, if he didn't, HBK wouldn't be the best man in the wedding. Naitch probably would. The man had a weird code of honor and obligation, that was for sure. But he'd studied him for years now. He probably knew Hunter as well as if not better than most of his opponents in the squared circle. And most of the time, he was proud to call the man a friend.

Yeah, he decided. They'd get past this…all of this…eventually. They'd have to. Because there was no way in hell that he was going to give Tina up. Not voluntarily. And if he thought Hunter's reaction was bad, his mother was gonna flip when he found out about her. Flip good or flip bad, he wasn't sure yet. But she would have a fit, that he knew for certain.

He frowned again. He was going to have to leave soon for San Francisco to spend Christmas with his mother. And of course Tina would be in North Carolina with her family. Man, that was gonna suck. His mouth curled slightly at how quickly she'd gotten under his skin. So much so, that sometimes it scared the living shit out of him. Especially when he stopped to think about the difference in their ages.

Hell, he was over thirty. And she wasn't even twenty yet. Nineteen, his conscience taunted him. He was sure if he Googled it he'd find that them being together was illegal in some state somewhere. But it was so damn easy to forget she still had the word teen after her age, and they had so much in common. He'd not lied to Stacy in Baltimore a few weeks ago, and even blurting out what he had to Hunter yesterday was one hundred percent gospel. He loved her. And he was fairly damn certain she felt the same…maybe…he wasn't sure. But sometimes…sometimes, love didn't conquer all. No matter what the storybooks said.

Pushing that thought away, he gave in to the drowsy fluttering behind his lids and closed his eyes, making Tina's hushed voice seem even louder in the faint tint of the soon to be rising sun.

"Is it only six-thirty? It feels like the middle of the night. No, Dave and I shared a room, so I thought I'd give you a heads-up in case you decided to drop by before we head to the airport. Yes, probably. Well, I don't know…I'll have to ask him. It's still real new, Lillian. He may not be ready to be…you know…open. I'll have to check. Lil-what? He is special, but he still doesn't need to know that yet. This afternoon sometime, I guess. Okay. 'Bye."

He heard the chirp of her cell phone being turned off and then the soft pad of her feet on the thick carpeting. Her body was a pale shadow in the dim light. "No jog with Lillian this morning?"

At the sound of his voice, she sucked in a breath and froze in the act of climbing into bed, then relaxed and snuggled down next to him. He slid an arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. "Nah. Too tired. You wore me out." She sighed against his skin, closing her eyes.

He chuckled softly in the dark, lightly running his fingers up and down her arm. "If anything, I'm the one who needs to step up my vitamin regimen."

"Dave?"

"Yeah, bunny?"

Tina gave a sleepy sigh. "Shut up and go back to sleep."

Another tired chuckle was her only answer.

The next time Tina opened her eyes, she stared at the ceiling for a moment, disoriented. Her walls and ceiling were a pale pinkish yellow, like the color of the setting sun over a beach somewhere. A color that gave Uncle Hunter spasms when she tried to describe it to the guy at the paint store when he'd gone with her to pick it out after she'd moved in with him and Nettie. But she liked it. It lifted her spirits, particularly on days when everything outside was blanketed in white snow. Or foggy rain.

But these walls were cool and white and needed pictures and hangings on them in the worst way. Then she remembered. She was still in Alabama – in Dave's hotel room, with her own bed in Shonzi's room laying unslept in. Then again, knowing her friend in makeup like she did, Tina suspected that Shon's bed was unslept in as well. But, Shelton Benjamin's was probably quite full at the moment. She gave a grin.

Tina turned to watch Dave sleep, but that side of the bed was empty. On her other side, a sticky note was affixed to the lamp on the bedside table.

Gone down to the hotel gym. Back at 8:30.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she peered across the bed at the clock. The digital numbers read 8:05. She threw back the bed linens and yanked on her underwear from where it hung precariously off the edge of one of the chairs. She grabbed the first thing she could find, pleased to see it was Dave's white dress shirts from last night. Grinning happily, she raised the collar to her nose and inhaled deeply. With a deep hum she slid her arms into it, giggling at herself when she saw the sleeves trailed past her fingertips at least by six inches or more. She buttoned the cuffs and just shoved them up, then buttoned the shirt, enjoying the sensation of its tails brush her knees. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she savored the very girlie feeling of being bundled up in his shirt, then dragged her laptop from its case near her carry-on.

She laid it on the table, settled into the chair, tucking one foot under her thigh, and set about to answer any emails from family and friends that she'd neglected in the past few hurried days leading up to and after her graduation. She grinned again, as the computer booted up and her wireless access kicked in. She was officially a college graduate. An employed one too. That just felt weird. In just a few seconds, she was logged into her Yahoo account where there were only three pieces of legitimate mail, and one possible amid all of the junk adds for stock tips, mortgage loans, free electronics, Viagra and online porn.

"Odd how those last two seem to go hand in hand," she muttered, reading the subject lines of the emails.

Where the hell are you? – Barbie
This afternoon – Miss Ellie
Reminder: Tech Meeting 1 p.m. 12/27/04 – Eric Bischoff

She had to chuckle over her friend Barbie's detailed description of her first night with Wendell – a.k.a. Ken – in Hawaii, where Barbie's parents usually went for Christmas. Leaving that one in her mail box, for a longer reply later, she moved on to the one from her Grandma, assuring the woman that she had indeed heard right and that she and Dave were in fact dating. After promising her to explain everything – or close to everything, she amended silently – she sent the message and opened the reminder from her boss. Skimming it quickly, she decided she could read it later, and closed the message. Just before she was going to sign off, another message popped up in her inbox. This one caused her to frown in irritation.

Something you need to know, Tina. – cdunn@dunnrealty.net

Her finger hesitated over the mouse at the subject line, debating on reading it or deleting it unopened. Most junk mail that contained her name, listed her full name of Valentina, and not the nickname she went by. What could it hurt to open it?

"I could get a virus that trashes my whole hard drive. No thanks, Mr. C. Dunn at Dunn Realty. I'm not interested in whatever it is you're selling." She hit the delete button, and the message disappeared, now benignly stored in her trash bin.

Still, curiosity was an odd thing. Without stopping to think why she was doing it, she pulled open another window and plugged in Dunn Realty in her search engine. The first link took her to exactly what she had expected, a real estate website. But what caught her attention was where it was located.

"San Antonio, Texas? Shawnie's hometown. Talk about surreal." She mumbled to the screen. Idly she thumbed through the site, stopping at the pictures of the staff, reading the names to herself. Kenton Simmons, partner. A fairly decent looking man, Tina thought. He even looked like a real estate guy in a nondescript sort of way. The kind of man you'd forget his face five minutes after you met him. Well, you would if you could forget those Coke bottle bottom glasses. The guy had to be legally blind. Her gaze drifted over to the next picture. Bernie Hollis, partner. Now he looked more like a lawyer, all dour and stern looking, bald head and all. She scrolled down a bit.

Shirlene Parker, secretary, a stunning brunette stacked like a porn star. "Yeah, we know what you were hired for. And it damn sure wasn't your dictation skills." Tina chuckled to herself over her own cattiness. "Then again, maybe it was."

She scrolled another time and stopped. "Now you, I'd remember," she murmured looking at the picture of the last man on the page. Reading the name underneath it, she gave a smug smile. "Well, Mr. Carter Dunn, of Dunn Realty, aren't you just a pretty thing. And what did you want with me?"

Tina studied his face for a moment, not really knowing why she found it fascinating, just that she did. An older man, but not old. Older than Dave, probably. Maybe early to mid forties. Ash blonde hair, sculpted back in what Nettie referred to as evangelical hair. Startlingly blue eyes, intense, and…she peered a little closer…hard. He had a hard look about his eyes and a slightly cold, smarmy smile.

She cocked her head to the side, taking one last glance at him. He really did look familiar for some reason. She couldn't quite place him though, even though she felt like she should know who he was. He reminded her of someone she knew…but who?

The door opening behind her made her glance over her shoulder. She grinned seeing Dave come in, bearing a bakery box with a lavender and green logo in one hand, and a coffee tray in the other. Without another thought to the real estate company in San Antonio, she clicked off her browser, and powered down the system, effectively emptying the trash bin when the program shut down. She closed the laptop with a snap, then slid it back into its case.

"Whatcha got there?"

Dave set the box and tray on the table, grinning as Tina tracked his movements with hungry eyes. "A couple of croissants with some kind of filling, some red grapes, cheddar cheese, and some fruit bread the girl said was good with cream cheese," he replied, pulling the food from the box. "I figured this would tide us over until we could get some real food after we check out."

She accepted the large coffee he handed to her. Dave pulled a plastic knife out of the box and cut some slices from the fruit bread, and put them along with the croissants, grapes and cheese on the provided plastic plates.

Her cheeks warmed. He'd remembered her favorite morning beverage, as well as her love of gourmet breads, fruit, and cheeses for breakfast. He was spoiling her. Watching him was like sipping a mocha latte on a cold day, she thought as she took a sip of that exact drink. The way his hips moved, the way his running shorts pulled across his tight butt, the way his fingers touched the croissants without crushing the fragile layers of pastry. And now he stood, spreading the cream cheese on the fruit bread with his weight on one leg and the opposite knee bent.

God, all she wanted to do was to run her hands all over him.

He looked up. "What?"

"How many times a week do women tell you you're beautiful?"

He ducked his head suddenly, concentrating on the task at hand.

"Dave. Are you blushing?" With her latte in one hand, she laid her palm on his cheek with the other. "You are!"

"Here. Eat your breakfast and quit asking goofy questions," he muttered, sliding a plate laden with fruit bread covered in cream cheese, a croissant, a handful of grapes and chunks of cheddar across the table to her as he took his seat beside her.

The food was divine, she decided when she was two bites away from overstuffed. Almost as good as looking at him, but not as good as touching him.

"The girl downstairs was right," Dave said. "This is good."

"Here." Tina dabbed at the side of his mouth where a particularly succulent berry had left a trace of juice. His tongue removed it and touched her finger, licking cream cheese from its tip. His eyes ignited, holding hers and leaving no doubt that eating toast and fruit was not the uppermost priority on his mind. Her body responded simply to the tip of his tongue and those eyes – with him, it took so little, she thought in wonder. One look and desire puddled between her legs, deep down and hot.

"I need a shower," Dave said, his voice hushed with suggestion.

"Me too," she replied a little breathlessly.

He took her hand and pulled her into the bathroom, where it didn't take them long to strip each other to the skin. "You're gonna drive me crazy wearing my shirt and only a thong, you know that right?"

"I'll be sure and do it more often then," she teased.

"It brands you as mine. Our scents mixing together."

"Oooh…very Vampiric of you," she grinned sassily at him. "I have no problem with that."

He turned on the shower while kicking his shorts out of the way and dragged her into the glass enclosure with him. Hot water cascaded all around them as she locked her arms around his neck and gave him the full-body kiss she'd been craving since she'd awakened to find him gone. This wasn't sleepy morning sex, with her mind half-awake and her body still asleep and unaroused, as it had been with one or two of her past lovers. This was Dave, hot and urgent and irresistible, seducing her every time he moved. Making her think bout kissing him every time he spoke. Filling her mind the way he filled her body, crowding out every sensation except the ones he created with those magic hands and that sinful mouth.

Slick as a seal, with water splashing off his shoulder and streaming from his hair in runnels, Dave turned her around and held her in front of him, his eager erection probing her derriere as he cupped her breasts from close behind.
"You're so sexy," he murmured over the rush of water. "I love to follow you and watch you walk." His engorged cock slid between her legs and she arched her back. "The way your skirt swings, or your jeans twitch, the way the muscles flex in your calves." She braced both hands on the wet tiles and tilted her rear up to give him better access. "It makes me think about doing this," he growled.

She was so hot for him she could hardly stand it. "Dave," she moaned. She'd always wanted a talker, hadn't she? Now that she had one, she wished he'd shut up and give her what she desperately needed.

He slid the shower door open wide enough to reach out and snag a condom from his toiletry kit on the bathroom counter. After rolling it on, he slid his hands around her and snuggled her up against him.

Tina moaned with satisfaction as he entered her. He stroked her from within in a way that made her hotter than she'd ever been. Because he was standing up, his strokes were shorter, exciting, giving her pleasure in new places. The sweet pressure built and then just when she thought she would explode with it, he reached around and found her clit with his fingers. Already primed and wet, Tina felt as though two powerful currents connected, and ignited.

She cried out as pleasure exploded inside her, felt Dave hold her even closer with his free arm as he shuddered against her back in the heights of his own orgasm.

They stood, shaking, under the hot spray for a moment, then Dave slid out of her limp body and reached for the soap. Gently he soaped a cloth hanging on the rail and washed her back and shoulders, moved to her hips, then each trembling leg. He paid special attention to the area between her legs, using his hands instead of the cloth so he wouldn't irritate the sensitized, swollen flesh.

Far from irritation, Tina's knees buckled a little as his soapy fingers slid and rubbed.

"Dave, I'm going to –"

She came again against his fingers, holding on to the wall of the shower while she shivered in delight. Tina wondered a little deliriously if one body could take so many different kinds of pleasure. She practically purred as he cupped water in his hands and rinsed her clean.

"My turn," she said when she was able to speak.

She too soaped the cloth and gave him the same treatment, part bath and part massage, outlining the planes of his body with her hands and marveling that some gorgeous Diva hadn't snapped him up long ago. Then she shut that thought out. Nothing was going to spoil the moment.

Down his legs and back up again, paying special attention to his balls and cock, which even now was still at half-mast. Once they were rinsed off, they dried each other with the same care. Dave staggered back into the hotel room, and fell backward on the bed.

"I really better start taking vitamins," he told the ceiling. "Just to keep up with you." He glanced at her as she crawled in beside him on the bed.

"Do we have time for a nap?" she murmured tiredly.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I left a wake up call for ten. Gives us plenty of time to get to the airport for our flight.

The duvet folded around them as she cuddled into his side. Her body was singing with satisfaction and she was a close as she'd ever been to being perfectly happy. "Good," she sighed, then asked, "How can a man like you still be single?"

"Because I bail," he answered, his voice sleepy with honesty. "We start out having a good time, doing things together, and then when it starts to get personal, like I find out she has some dark secret or some problem she needs to work out, I find I can't get involved."

Tina felt a flutter of foreboding run through her, shattering that perfectly happy feeling from a moment before. "Can't or won't?"

"Won't, I guess. I was in a relationship a few years before I came to the WWE with a girl down in OVW…another wrestler. She was the most high-maintenance person I've ever met. It took me a long time to realize that high maintenance is just another word for selfish. But by then I was too exhausted to think. So when the call came for me to join up, I gave her the it's-been-great-let's-stay-in-touch-speech and came on to the big leagues. Haven't heard from her since." He turned to face her, cocking an eyebrow at her. "I know you're not selfish. Or high maintenance. You don't have any dark secrets, do you?"

For a split second, she appeared to give his question consideration. Then in all seriousness, she answered, "I went to a final exam with no panties on once."

"Oh, my God." He rolled up on one elbow to look at her, his eyes dancing with laughter. "That is dark. What were you doing, seducing your professor?"

"No." She gave a regretful sigh. "I just forgot to do the laundry, that's all. I had to run out at lunch and buy a pair."

He chuckled and lay back on the bed, gathering her closer. "That's what I like about you. You look so innocent with your pretty blonde hair, big blue eyes and angelic face. And then you turn it all upside down by doing something wicked."

"Nobody knew about it," she protested.

"You knew," he replied with a yawn, then turned to kiss her forehead. "And now I know. Just in case I ever need something to blackmail you with."

She murmured in assent, listening as his breathing evened out and he slipped quietly off into slumber. But there was no sleep for Tina, her mind replaying what he'd said over and over again.

I bail….We start out having a good time, doing things together, and then when it starts to get personal… I can't get involved…I bail…I can't get involved…I bail…I bail…

~<>~

Clear creeks, cool mountain mornings
Honest work out in the fields
Corn bread in my Momma's kitchen
Daddy saying grace before the meal
Family ties run deep in this land
And I'm never very far from what I am
I was born country and that's what I'll always be
Like the rivers and the woodlands wild and free
I've got a hundred years of down-home
Running through my blood
I was born country
And this country's what I love.
Born Country – Alabama


December 14, 2004 9:13 a.m. EST
Lyon's Cove - Moccasin Gap, NC


Stepping down onto the rough hewn planks of the dock, John stopped at the base of the stairs leading back up to the small studio apartment over the boathouse that he and Keebs had shared the night before. A smile that could almost be called shy crept across his craggy features as he gave a last glance back over his shoulder up to where, from his current angle, he could barely make out the sliding glass doors that overlooked the lake.

Yeah, Carolina air definitely had something to it, he thought to himself. His gaze shifted to the body of water from whence the air in question came, and his breath caught in his throat.

He hadn't realized how close to the Blue Ridge Mountains they were, even though the nipple hardening, testicle shrinking bite in the morning air should have told him that. Black peaks of huge rock seemed to thrust upward straight from the water's edge on the far horizon, the actual lake shore on the other side, not even able to be seen from where he stood. It was almost like the mountains ran straight down into the water, without leaving an inch of shoreline to be called a beach like there was on this side. He'd never seen anything like it.

Mist rose off the surface of the water as the temperature rose slowly, giving the area a mystical feel to it. Honking caught his attention and he glanced upward to see a small flock of Canadian geese fly overhead to land noiselessly on the water. He watched them glide across the glassy surface in search of breakfast. It was like something out of fantasy movie. Almost too painfully beautiful to be real. But it was, and he drank in the vista spread before him, letting it fill up places deep inside him with the peaceful silence of the mountain backdrop.

Lifting his sapphire gaze, he traveled the layers of mountains as they reached back towards the other side of the world, the morning clouds laying low in the valleys almost like wisps of white cotton candy between each peak and rise. Higher and higher they went until he was craning his neck slightly to better see the very tip of an impressive slope far in the distance.

"Grandfather Mountain," he whispered to the morning stillness. He'd heard Keebs call it that when she was telling him of one or two of her past visits to the small Southern town. And seeing it first hand, now he knew why they called it that. It looked like an old man laying on his side…watching him. But it wasn't an unsettling effect at all. More…comforting. Sort of like when he was a kid and he'd be doing something he wasn't supposed to. He'd glance back and see his Grampa Victor laying on the couch, watching him with an eagle eye, and an indulgent grin. Not saying anything, but keeping an eye out nonetheless.

Grandfather kept a watch on his children. He shook his head, his lips curling into a rueful smile. "The hills do have eyes," he murmured.

He simply stood and enjoyed the view for a moment before turning to trot leisurely down the dock and up the hill that he and Keebs had run down just a few scant hours earlier, considering they'd not even made it to sleep until sometime after three in the morning. At the top of the rise, standing between two of the fragrant cedar trees, he gave Grandfather one last look, touched the tips of his fingers to his brow in salute, and sincerely hoped Keebs had seen this before she'd zoned out in her customary morning run.

With a spring in his step, he made short work of crossing the yard and bounding up the back steps to the kitchen door. With a quick knock, he turned the knob and stuck his head in. "Anybody up yet?"

"Come on in Johnny-lad," Lilly instructed, waving him further into the warmth of the brightly lit heart of the ancient home. She flicked her hand at the table where Hunter and Kevin already sat, crabbily staring down into their coffee cups, perusing the newspaper. She spared him a momentary glance. "And where is Miss Stacy?"

"Jogging," came the reply from both Hunter and Kevin, much to John's surprise. Hazel and whiskey eyes glanced at each other over the unified answer, then turned to meet curiously narrowed sapphire ones.

"Mmmm, yeah. She runs every morning," John answered, his stare never leaving the other two men at the table, even though his words were meant for Lilly. "She'll come up when she's had her shower. Shouldn't be too much longer now."
Lilly nodded thoughtfully, her arched eyebrow letting them all know she'd not missed anything said, along with things not said, in their little exchange. "Take a seat. Breakfast will be along shortly."

"I told you, you don't work here, Lilly," Hunter growled lowly.

"And I told you, laddie, that I'll be cooking breakfast today and any other day that I like. The lass has already told me I could if I wanted, as this is my home too. And last I checked, she rules this part of your domain…not you."

A gruff chuckle came from John's right as he took a seat on the opposite end of the table as Triple H. He glanced over to see Kevin grinning into his coffee. "Point. Set. Match. You lose, Runt."

"Ain't that always the way," Hunter retorted, his eyes going back to the section of the paper he was reading. "Humph. Looks like Pinochet's gonna stand trial after all."

"No kiddin'," Kevin murmured. "So they found him competent?"

"Evidently."

John blinked at them. "Who are you talking about?"

Hunter didn't raise his eyes, still skimming the newsprint as they were. "General Agusto Pinochet of Chile. He reigned as dictator for seventeen years and is gonna now stand trial for human rights abuses." Hunter tapped his index finger at the paper. "He's being charged with nine counts of kidnapping, and one of murder."

The Smackdown star reached for the glass pitcher of orange juice sitting on the table and poured himself a glass, nodding absently. He vaguely remembered hearing something about that. "Think he'll be convicted?"

"If there's any justice, he will," Hunter replied.

"Another monster bites the dust, huh Runt?"

Hunter nodded. "One less in the world, but there's always at least four others to take his place."

"And each one more vile than the one previous," John grumbled under his breath.

Whiskey eyes lifted slowly to latch on to John's sapphire gaze. Hunter stared at the younger man for a tense moment, then said only, "Exactly."

~<>~

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
There's something out there
I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there
I can't resist
These Dreams – Heart


December 14, 2004 9:20 a.m. EST
Lyon's Cove – Master Suite – Moccasin Gap, NC

Our dreams combine verbal, visual and emotional stimuli into a sometimes broken, nonsensical but often entertaining story lines. Statistics say that the majority of women dream in color, while a good number of men claim to dream primarily in black and white. Why? No one seems to know. Dreams come when least expected, and fairly infrequently does the human mind remember them. Some believe that five minutes after a dream ends, the dreamer forgets fifty percent of the dream. After ten minutes, ninety percent is forgotten. Even though numerous people assert that they do not dream, scientists claim that in fact, they do indeed and even do so several times a night. They are simply unable to recall them, for reasons again, as yet unknown. Dreams are funny things.

Yet, they're necessary for the human mind, according to all the doctors and the scientists, functioning almost like a computer's reboot function. In REM state, where dreams occur, some theorize that the act of dreaming literally reboots the human brain, helping dump out the overload of sensory input absorbed throughout the day.

According to Nietzsche, In the ages of the rude beginning of culture, man believed that he was discovering a second real world in dream, and here is the origin of all metaphysics. Without dreams, mankind would never have had occasion to invent such a division of the world. The parting of soul and body goes also with this way of interpreting dreams; likewise, the idea of a soul's apparitional body: whence all belief in ghosts, and apparently, too, in gods.

We can sometimes even solve problems in our sleep. Or can we?

+++++

Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to hello
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me I'm not broken hello
I'm the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday
Hello - Evanescence

April 1, 2015 2:07 p.m. EST
Lyon's Cove - Moccasin Gap, NC

She heard the music before she placed one foot upon the bottom step leading up to the back porch. Eerily ethereal sounding, the haunting melody drifted out of the open second story window on the mild spring breeze blowing in from across the lake. Lyrics crept along in the wake of the tones, sliding and tumbling downward to where she stood on the paved drive near the garage. She cocked her head to the side, just listening.

She couldn't help but smile a little. After all it was her CD that was currently playing…one more obviously pilfered from her collection, by the child who claimed those old things just sounded better. But her smile fell just as quickly when she remembered what had brought her home in the middle of the day when she still had so much to do before they all packed up and headed to New York for Wrestle Mania 29. A tight pressure clenched around her chest. This was one conversation she wasn't looking forward to. She never had, and damn it to hell this wasn't the way she wanted to talk about it.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled her shoulders and began the short climb to the back door. Her husband met her in the kitchen with a grim look and eyes so full of anguish that she just wanted to cry the moment she saw him. Instead, she walked into his arms, and tilted her chin up to press her lips lightly against his neck.

They clung to each other for a moment, absorbing the strength, support, comfort, and love that they'd always depended on to get them through the tough times. They'd learned early on that if no one else in the world would back their play, the other one would. They had been tested, of course, but in the end, they - as a couple - had come out on top.

And now they had to stand strong. For their family. For their daughter.

She took a step back. "How?"

Hunter shook his head. He placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her through the kitchen and down the side hallway towards the grand staircase in the front of the house. "Kids. Got their hands on some shit off the Internet. Flashed it all around school. Made sure she saw it."

"Do I even need to ask which kids?"

He favored her with a hard look that said were murder and torture legal, he'd be both elbows deep in blood, bone, and sinew by now. All for someone hurting his little girl. "No."

Chewing at her bottom lip for a moment, Nan nodded, stripped her blazer from her shoulders and draped it over the banister at the bottom of the stairs. Staring up the staircase, her eyes locked onto the bank of windows between the two corner rooms, she extended a hand blindly towards her husband. He took it, automatically threading his fingers through hers in a comfortingly familiar gesture.

"You ready for this?"

"No," he answered tersely. "But I told you back then that I wasn't. And that hasn't changed. I'm not now."

She turned to look at him. "Hunter, you knew she'd have to be told eventually."

"I never said I disagreed with that. And Jack was easy because he doesn't remember. Doesn't want to remember."

"Neither does she – she was too little. And besides, Jack's not -"

"I know…I just…" His words trailed off, leaving him to blink rapidly and run a huge hand down his face. His voice was husky when he spoke again. "She's ours, baby. Yours and mine. Just as if you'd given birth to her like you did the rest of them."

Unable to see him in pain without wanting to offer comfort, she nestled against his side, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know she's ours. And nothing she's learned today or will learn today is going to change that. Sweetheart, that little girl has been yours since the day you picked her up ten years ago. She called you Dada and you melted into a puddle right there on the beach. And I knew then she'd be ours from then on."

"We didn't get to keep her at first, if you'll remember. And they tried to take her away from us."

"I remember." She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him. "But even during those six weeks we didn't have her, she was still one of your little girls."

He blinked slowly at her, nodded, and rasped painfully, "Let's hope she still feels that way when this conversation is over."

With a nod of her own, Nan agreed silently, and together they climbed the stairs leading to their child's bedroom. Outside the closed door on the right side of the balustrade, they stopped, unable to help but look around at the other open doors to the rooms of their other kids. All empty. Except for the youngest, who was being detained upstairs somewhere, the rest of their children were all still at school. And the one on the other side of the closed portal would be as well if it weren't for the need of meddling nastiness that some families never seemed to get past.

The music was louder out here than it had been in the driveway, so there was no way the room's occupant would be able to hear her father's knock. But he did it anyway. Not so much because he was asking for permission to enter the room, because that idea was ludicrous. It was more of a way of announcing his presence and that he was coming in.
Deafening tones blasted out the minute Hunter opened the door, almost causing them to reel backwards, but they pressed forward, peering inside. "Muppet? Want some company?"

"No," came the snuffled wet snort from the almost-thirteen year old lying on her stomach on her bed. Her face was half buried in her pillow and what they could see of it was swollen and puffy from excessive tears. "Wanna be alone. Go 'way."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, honey."

Nan eased into the room, and turned the knob on the stereo to the right, dropping the music down to a haunting whisper in the background as Hunter moved to sit beside the girl on the bed. Despite her words of wanting to be alone, she curled instinctively around her father's leg, shifting just enough so that her fist touched his knee.

Hunter reached down and covered the white knuckled fist in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb along the clenched fingers. Nan sat gingerly on the other side of the girl, and ran her fingers through the twin ponytails, smoothing away the long strands of dark cinnamon hair away from the tear-streaked cheeks. Neither of them knew exactly how to proceed since this particular scenario had never occurred to them out of the hundreds of the ones that had played out in their minds over the years. But the pre-teen solved that for them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She sniffed hard enough to choke out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "I mean, I'm not a little kid anymore. I had a right to know. You should have told me."

God, didn't those words sound familiar, Nan shuddered with a mental cringe. She cast a pained look at her husband, who just nodded, giving his consent for her to start. "Yes, we should have. And we were going to, but –"

"But what," the girl interrupted, not bothering to raise her head from the pillow, her tone stained with scorn and bitterness. "You didn't think I was old enough or mature enough to handle it, right? Figures. Good thing I'm not your real kid then, huh?"

"I know you're upset, Muppet. And you have every right to be. But you're not going to talk to your mother that way."

"But she's not my mother, just like you're not my father. Are you? No, my mother is –"

"That's enough," Hunter's voice was firm, but laced with sadness rather than anger. "We should have told you the rest of it before now. And sadly a lot of what you learned at school is true. But it doesn't tell the whole story. I think you need to know the difference between a mother and a mom. Along with what those papers didn't tell you about what happened ten years ago."

The pre-teen cracked open one indigo eye and peered at him, her curiosity getting the better of her. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I think you need to know about your mother. And mine."

She snorted again. "Oh please, Daddy. I know Nana Lilly. She lives just across the yard, remember?"

"Nana Lilly's not my mother."

The girl laid in silence for a split second before pushing up on her elbow and sitting up. She eyed her parents suspiciously, as her trust in them had been shattered earlier today. But as usual…she hated not knowing, and she had to find out. "What are you talking about?"

Before Hunter could answer, Nan stood up, and clasped her hands together in front of her, trying to still the trembling in them. "I think you two need to have this conversation in private."

He looked up at his wife, seeing the pain on her face so clearly. "Baby," he began, but got no further.

She shook her head at him. "No, really. This needs to be between you two." Her chocolate eyes pleaded with him to hear what she couldn't voice. Please don't make me listen to this once more.

At his understanding nod, she turned and quietly left the room, biting back tears and screams of rage yet again at the women who had hurt those she loved so much. Some simply by existing, and others by design.

With a heavy heart, she descended the stairs and walked into the family room, maneuvering her way around toys scattered across the floor. Her body on autopilot as her brain raced through horrible images from the past, methodically she began picking up the toys littering the hardwoods. A comforting clutter amidst the chaos of the day. And a sure sign that her youngest was somewhere within the house.

Sure enough, not even two minutes later, before she could quite finish putting away the discarded playthings, the thunder of little feet echoed above her head. Swallowing hard, she pasted a falsely bright smile on her face, turned to face the open pocket door leading into the hallway, and waited. In a tornado of energy to be envied by anyone over the age of thirty, a little boy no more than three burst into the room, giggling madly. He stopped dead upon seeing her, and stared at her like she'd popped in out of thin air. And perhaps to him, she had. Because she wasn't supposed to be there yet.

Then his face split into a brilliant grin and he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Mommy!"

She stooped, and opened her arms to him. He rushed into them like he'd not seen her in weeks, even though it had only been a few hours prior at breakfast when she'd kissed him goodbye on his way to pre-school. Standing, she scooped her son into her arms and hugged him tightly to her.

Their slightly winded nanny appeared in the doorway. "Ah, Mrs. Helmsley. I'm sorry. I tried to keep him occupied until –"

Nan shook her head at the young woman. "It's okay Brooke. Today's kind of thrown us all off kilter."

"Yes, ma'am." She nodded. "Mrs. Helmsley, is there anything I can do?"

"Would you mind setting out some steaks to thaw? I think we should grill out tonight."

The brunette smiled in agreement. "Sounds great," she replied as she headed through the door leading to the kitchen.

She turned back to her son, his arms still wound tightly around her neck. "Surprised to see me, Dumplin'?"

After placing a very wet kiss on her cheek he pulled back and nodded. "Yuh-huh. Me an' Brooke wuz playin' in thuh actick, an' look at what I finded!"

With baited anticipation, Nan waited patiently as her son dug into the pocket of his shorts. She genuinely was intrigued to see what he'd found this time, as he always seemed to be discovering all sorts of interesting odds and ends. It was almost like he had a gift at finding things. A grubby little hand shot out of the pocket and opened to reveal two exquisite bits of pearl in his palm.

"Ooh, very pretty," she admired the antique dress buttons properly, grinning slightly. Obviously her son had finally found the trove of Lyon family things Miss Millie had left for the children to play with when she'd moved out long ago. Those trunks alone would keep him in discoveries for a least a year, maybe longer. "Take special care of those. They're very old."

His bright green eyes widened. "Like dinosaur old?"

She chuckled. "Not quite that old, Dumplin'. More like," she thought for a moment, "before cars and computers old."

His little mouth dropped open. "Wow…that’s really old!" he breathed out in awe and immediately rammed the buttons back into the safety of his shorts pocket.

"Momma?"

Nan looked up at the watery voice, so thick with tears, and pain, that her heart ripped right down the center of her chest, leaving her feeling hollow inside. The little boy turned too. "Sissy's cryin', Mommy. Wuz wrong?"

She kissed him on the forehead and set him on his feet. "She's just had a bad day. That's all, Dumplin'. Now, why don't you go in and help Brooke with picking out a desert for after dinner. Okay?"

He nodded, and after a solemnly concerned look back at his older sister, a look far older than he should have been capable of, he left the room the same way he'd come in…giggling and at full speed.

Nan squared her shoulders and turned to face her third oldest child. Her daughter leaned against the doorjamb of the family room, leading into the hallway. Head hung down, glaring holes in the tips of her shoes, the pre-teen was nervously picking at her bottom lip with her fingers. Nan felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. She may not have been the child of her body, but there was no mistaking that she was still one of her kids.

"What is it baby?"

She walked into the room, stopping when she was just short of where Nan stood in front of the fireplace. The girl just stood there, silent for a moment before she lifted her head, fat tears trickling down her cheeks from those amazing indigo eyes. "I didn't mean what I said about you not being –"

Nodding, Nan swallowed hard at the lump that lodged itself suddenly in her throat. "I know you didn't."

"I love you, Momma. And I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Her daughter's chin wobbled and just as the damn burst holding back the sobs that had been held at bay for so long, Nan folded the girl up in her arms, cradling her against her body, cupping one hand in between her ponytails.

She pressed a kiss to her hair, laid her cheek on her daughter's head, and looked up to see her husband standing in the doorway, tears running unchecked down his handsome face. Closing her eyes, she held the girl as she cried, and gave in, feeling her own tears join her daughter's. "I love you too, honey. I love you, too."

+++++

Tears still dampening her cheeks, Nan awoke, only to find herself sitting up on the edge of her bed. Her arms were full, yet felt empty. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see Hunter's pillow clutched against her bare breasts, her fingers clenched on to it like she was fighting someone taking it from her.

For a moment, she blinked, uncomprehending. It wasn't supposed to be a pillow meeting her stare…it was supposed to be an almost thirteen year old who'd just had her world turned upside down. Instead of a wrinkled pillow, she should be looking at dark cinnamon shoulder-length hair pulled up into obnoxiously chipper ponytails. Instead of a black pillowcase meeting her gaze, there should be tear filled indigo eyes blinking back at her. Instead of the faint scent of her fiancé's cologne, she should be getting an overload of sandalwood with just enough of a hint of patchouli to make her slightly queasy.

Yet the images confusing her mind began to fade, taking the remnants of the dream with it, until almost nothing of it remained except for vague feelings of unrest. But one thing lingered…she still remembered those eyes. Those huge indigo orbs so sad, so filled with tears, so hopeful, almost crying out to her. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, and she was ashamed.

Ashamed because she'd forgotten…forgotten there was another…

~<>~

I've been down
Now I'm blessed
I felt a revelation coming around
I guess its right; it's so amazing
Every time I see you I'm alive
You're all I've got
You lift me up
The sun and the moonlight
All my dreams are in your eyes
Inside Your Heaven – Carrie Underwood

December 14, 1004 9:23 a.m. EST
Lyon's Cove - Moccasin Gap, NC

"So," John began conversationally, sparing a glance at the two men engrossed in the sections of the morning paper they were reading. "Where's the blushing bride this morning?"

"Asleep," Hunter murmured over his coffee cup. "She didn't have a good night."

A snort came from Kevin where he flipped over the comic page he was reading. "Oh, so that was Shug I heard around four this morning crying out like the call of the wild, huh? Just what were you doing to her to make her scream like that?"

Before John could warn Kevin of the impending threat, Lilly materialized behind the wrestler, snatched the paper out of his hands, briskly rolled it up and whapped him on the side of the head with it. "I'll not have you talkin' that way about the lass in her own home, Mister Nash."

Rubbing at his still stinging ear, Kevin tossed a glare at his host. "Runt…you'd better do something or I'm gonna –"

"You're going to do what, Mister Nash?" Lilly queried, with a raised brow, now back in place behind the stove, whipping eggs briskly in a bowl. "Surely you're not base enough of a rogue to threaten a defenseless old woman, are you?

John chuckled at that. "Nana Lilly, you're about as defenseless and old as my Momz…and she still whups me and my brothers even though we're grown up."

"Grown," Lilly harrumphed. "Boys are never grown, Johnny-lad. They just get bigger. Most of the time they don't even grow up when they have boys of their own."

"Dad too?"

All voices fell silent for a moment at the softly asked question. Lilly set the bowl aside and wiped her hands on the dishtowel laying on the counter. She walked back around to cup her hand under Hunter's chin and pull upwards until he looked her in the eye.

"Your father was a distinct exception. Your grandmother said he was born an adult and just got older. Though not necessarily wiser until much later in life. But you mark my words, laddie. That man loved you with every bit of heart he had available to him." She released his chin and ran her hand over his head, down his hair, to rest gently on his shoulder. "He was so proud of you, Hunter. Always was. You and that sister of yours too. Hear me?"

At his nod, she leaned down in an apparent gesture of kissing his cheek, which she did do. But she also whispered softly, so that only Hunter could hear her, "And he never once blamed you for Erik's death, so stop blaming yourself. Don't carry that into your marriage, son."

John saw Hunter's eyes go wide, and then suddenly go glassy at whatever the older woman had said. But the other man dropped his head, quickly raising his coffee cup back to his lips as Lilly went back around the breakfast bar and into the kitchen. She raised her voice as if the serious moment had never happened. "And as high as my standards are, Mister Nash, I have complete faith that you'll rise to meet them…in spite of yourself, you scoundrel."

Kevin gave an exaggerated frown, in truth, fully enjoying Lilly's admonishments. She reminded him a bit of his own mother. "Now wait just a sec –"

Hunter's laugh interrupted them. "Kev, give it up. She's gonna win." He winked at her over his shoulder. "She always does."

"Let's rewind that tape for a second," Kevin answered regardless, addressing Lilly with a twinkle in his eyes. "Did you just call me a scoundrel?"

"You are a scoundrel, Deez," Nan retorted from the hallway entrance to the kitchen, her arms folded under her chest, stretching the deep amethyst of her T-shirt across her breasts. "Lilly's just callin' 'em like she sees 'em." The redhead took two steps inside and barely caught herself on the countertop as her right knee buckled. She breathed in a sharp hiss, tears immediately springing to her eyes as the calf muscle twisted itself into a tight knot.

"Shug?" Kevin barked, seeing her near fall, half rising out of his chair.

But Hunter was up and across the room by the time John had scooted his chair back and stood up. With wide eyes, he watched as the former World Heavyweight Champion scooped the redhead up into his arms and strode back to the table with her.

Just as he started to sit down in the chair he'd abandoned, the back door opened and a very chipper Stacy Keibler, invigorated from her morning run, freshly scrubbed, and pink of cheek bubbling over with happiness, came in the back door. "Good morning! And isn't it a lovely mornin' this mornin'?"

Kevin opened his mouth to answer, but John's laughing growl stopped him. "You answer that with the appropriate movie line and I swear to God I'll tie a knot in your neck."

Braying with good humor, Kevin merely nodded, acknowledging the threat. "Fine, fine, as long as it's noted that I got the points for knowing which one it was."

Ignoring them, Stacy stopped in the act of sitting down when she saw her friend being carried to the table, her face twisted in pain. Her brows dipped in sympathy. "Now see, I was worried about this when you were limping last night. You okay, Faith?"

Nan nodded against Hunter's cotton clad chest, the material of his worn Gold's Gym T-shirt feeling very comforting against her skin at the moment. "Just a cramp, Buffy. Not even a really bad one."

Hunter settled her on his lap, and reached for her leg, but found the angle to be too awkward given their positioning. Kevin solved the problem by scooting his chair down, and picking up Nan's foot in his hand. He set her heel down on his thigh and went back to reading the comics while Hunter began a methodical massage of her calf. As if by unspoken agreement, the others in the room didn't mention her near fall again, each of them content that if she needed medical help, then Hunter would let them know.

The soft music John had heard playing on the radio when he'd first came in finally gave way to a set of commercials, and then a voice cut through their tense silence. "Goooooood morning Moccasin Gap!"

"Oh!" Nan waved her hand. "Turn it up, Lilly please?"

As the older lady did as she'd been asked, Hunter turned curious eyes on his fiancée. "What is it, baby?"

"Izzie's morning show," she answered as if that explained everything. At his blank look, she added, "Audrey's sister Isabelle? The DJ? She asked us to listen this morning, remember?"

"No," he answered. "But I've got too much to keep up with at the moment anyway."

He fell silent as the young woman's voice cut through the kitchen. "Welcome to the biting Wednesday morning of December 14th! It's a quarter of ten and traffic's coming up. But first, I have a very special dedication going out to two wonderful people, one of whom I've just recently met. You two have got the whole town spinning on their collective rumps about the media circus event taking place tomorrow. And what kind of radio host would I be without giving away a free plug to you guys? Now, don't you worry, Red-hot…" the voice chuckled as the group around the table laughed, and pointed fingers at Nan. Then Izzie continued, "…and you either, Game…"

A loud chorus of ooooohhhs filled the breakfast nook, as Nan waved her hands shushing them. "I'm not going to mention any names…"

"She doesn't have to now," Kevin laughed. "Everybody in town knows who those two nicknames belong to!"

"…but I couldn't let your special day pass by without one, embarrassing you on the radio, and two, playing a very special song that I've been informed has great significance for you both. So for you guys, we're going to take a break from our continuous Christmas music – only ten more shopping days, remember? Anyway, congratulations my friends, and may you have a long and wonderful life together." They all waited with anticipation to hear the first strains of music come over the speakers.

I never needed love
Like I need you
And I never lived for nobody
But I live for you
Ooh babe
Lost in love is what I feel
When I'm with you

As the opening notes of the song began to play, Nan's eyes immediately glassed over, her hand flying up to cover her mouth automatically. Hunter favored her with a gentle smile and a soft look that would have melted the heart of the most die-hard romantic cynic. He cuddled her a little closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

Looking down into her eyes, he murmured softly, "I love you, baby."

With a tremulous voice, she answered, "I love you too."

Kevin gave them about ten seconds before he slammed his fist down on the table, breaking the spell that the song had cast over the two of them, and barked, "Story!"

"Yeah, story!" Stacy took up the cry.

Hunter looked at his fiancée. "Do we tell them?"

"Why not," Nan shrugged, looking more confident than she felt, taking note that one of the table's occupants hadn't expressed an interest in the tale.

Nodding, Hunter pursed his lips, and began, "Well, it was at the RAW right after No Way Out in 2002."

"In Chicago," Nan added.

"My God," Kevin mumbled. "That was the night I found out about you two."

"And the night Nan disappeared out of my hotel room," Stacy added, her eyes narrowing in recollection.

+++++

If they ever crack your spine, drop a line.
If they ever cut your throat, write a note.
If they ever make a cannibal stew of you,
Invite me too!
It's friendship, friendship,
Just a perfect blendship,
When other friendships are up the crick,
Ours will still be slick!
Lahdle-ahdle-ahdle-
Quack-quack-quack!
Friendship – Anything Goes Soundtrack

February 19, 2002 12:02 a.m. CST
Four Seasons Chicago – Room 4215 – Chicago, IL

The Master stood, gruesome head thrown back, long gangly arms stretched out above him as the earthquake shook Sunnydale. "Yes! YES! Shake, Earth! This is a sign! We are in the final days! My time has come! Glory! GLORY!"

The rumblings of the earth stopped as suddenly as they had started, leaving all in its range waiting in terrified anticipation of any and all aftershocks. The Master turned and cocked his head at the child sitting close by, calmly watching him, and asked, "Whaddaya think? Five point one?"

As the familiar opening credits of the television show began to play, the redhead resting stiffly on one of the two double beds in the hotel room reached over for her soda off the nightstand. She took a sip, wincing as the cold carbonated liquid burned a path down her scratchy throat, and commented casually, "Did you know that the guy who's playing the Master also played Neidermeyer in Animal House?"

"Get out! He did not!" the blonde retorted comically aghast at the suggestion.

"Did so."

Stacy screwed up her pretty face in a scowl. "Well, damn. That just ruins the whole mystique for me."

"Sure it does." Nan couldn't help but snort at the preposterous idea.

"It does," her new friend assured her.

Still not believing the beauty sitting up cross-legged on the other bed while she picked at a plate of fruit and cheese brought up by room service, Nan laughed, genuinely amused. She then asked with a tone of teasing sarcasm, "Oh, like you go for the bald-headed, bat-eared, no-nosed, bumpy-faced, red-eyed, fanged, soulless, blood-drinking, dead kind of guy?"

Stacy shrugged a slight shoulder and popped a chunk of melon in her mouth. Her face was curiously blank when she answered, "You've not seen some of the jokers I've dated. Trust me, he's a step up."

<~>

"So, I'm looking for a kid, huh? And he'll lead me to the Master?"

Giles turned and stared at his Slayer. "Buffy, I'm not going to send you out there to die. Now you were right. I-I-I-I've waded around in these old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real world is like. I-I-It's time I found out."

The blonde Slayer determinedly shook her head, defying her Watcher. "You're still not going up against the Master."

"I've made up my mind."

"So have I."

"I made my mind up first! I'm older and wiser than you, and just…just do what you're told for once, all right?!" He pulled himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at the teenager, trying his best to appear stern and unmoving. It was a futile attempt at best.

Buffy's eyes narrowed as she contemplated him silently for a moment. "That's not how it goes. I'm the Slayer."

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't care what the books say. I defy the prophecy, and I am going. There's nothing you can say that will change my mind."

"I know." Looking properly cowed, Buffy dropped her eyes and turned to go. But at the last moment, she spun around and threw a hard punch to Giles' face, spinning him around and knocking the older man backward to the floor, unconscious.

Ms. Calendar scrambled to his aid, but Buffy paid her no mind, having spotted her cross on the table. She put it back on as Ms. Calendar lifted Giles' head to lay him gently in her lap. The computer teacher looked up at the teenager, her eyes wide.

Finally Buffy looked down at her and huffed, "When he wakes up tell him…I don't know. Think of something cool. Tell him I said it."
Ms. Calendar replied softly, "You fight the Master, and you'll die."

Pursing her lips, grim-faced, Buffy gave a short nod. "Maybe." She lifted the crossbow from the table and cocked it, then fixed the teacher with a hard look that gave the older woman a severe case of the shivers. "And maybe I'll take him with me."

She turned and left the room.

"There's something terribly apropos about her going to meet her death in a long white prom dress."
The redhead nodded. "The black leather jacket and crossbow skews the image somewhat, but…to each his own."
A burst of laughter echoed through the hotel room as they turned their attention back to the program.

<~>

The Master had Buffy pressed tightly against his chest from behind, his taloned fingers wrapped around her throat. Fighting, she raised her arm quickly, succeeding in knocking his hand away. Freed, she started to run, but stopped immediately as the Master held out his hand toward her, frozen by his hypnotic ability. She looked back at him, but couldn't move. Slowly the Master walked towards her, again from behind, and gently slid the leather jacket from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground.

Buffy's chest heaved with fear, her eyes rolling wildly in their sockets as once again, he pressed himself against her, lowering his head to speak softly. "You tried. It was noble of you. You heard the prophecy that I was about to break free and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures. They don't tell you everything."

He brought his lips within inches of her ear and dropped his voice to a whisper. "You're the one that sets me free." He smiled, a gruesome mockery of human happiness, giving a little chuckle. "If you hadn't come, I couldn't go. Think about that."

The Master indulged in a pregnant pause, then struck. His fangs sank deep into Buffy's skin, piercing her at the base of her neck. He drank for a moment, then ripped his mouth away. He arched his neck, her blood a crimson stain around his mouth, and roared, "Oh God! The power!"

He suddenly let her go allowing her to fall broken to her knees. "And by the way," he smirked.

She fell lifelessly face down into the pool of water.

"I like your dress."

"Did he just bite her, drink her blood, kill her, and then tell her he liked her dress?!" Stacy cried outraged, having not seen this particular episode.

Knowing what was coming later in the rerun, Nan merely smiled. "Men can be such pigs, huh?"

The blonde nodded vigorously, then stopped as the scene switched and focused once again on Angel and Xander. "Yeah, but the dead guy's kind of cute."

<~>

Blinking in the wide-eyed innocence that was her trademark, Willow turned to Angel. "You can come with us, Angel."

Buffy grumbled, "I'm hungry."

Not paying attention to them, Xander turned quizzical eyes on Cordelia. "So what's the story with the car?"

"Oh, that was me, saving the day!" Cordy grinned.

Brimming with friendliness, again Willow addressed Angel. "Get something to drink."

"Is anybody else hungry?" Buffy asked the group at large.

Realizing what she'd said, Willow backtracked quickly, her eyes now huge. "Well, no, don't do that. Just hang." She turned and trotted a bit to catch up with Xander and Cordelia.

"I'm really, really hungry," Buffy raised her voice.

Smiling slightly, Angel hung back with Buffy, just listening to all of them decidedly not listening to each other. He turned soft eyes on the blonde by his side. "By the way, I really like your dress."

A quick roll of the eyes accompanied her response, "Yeah, yeah. Big hit with everyone."

As the group made their way back to the prom, the scene faded, then came up again, focusing on the grim sight of the Master's skeleton from above. It lingered there for a moment, then faded to black and the ending credits began to roll.


"How many times does she die in this show anyway?" Stacy asked, getting up from the bed and walking around to the bathroom, intent on taking off her makeup.

"In this season, or just all together."

"In total."

"Uhm…at least twice. Maybe three times, but I can't remember. My niece would know. She's a true devotee."

A snort from the blonde in the bathroom had Nan grinning, understanding the unspoken intrigued disbelief on a personal level. Stacy fell silent as she prepped herself for bed, so Nan reached over and picked up the remote, having no intention whatsoever of watching an infomercial on how to become a millionaire by buying and selling real estate. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to actually be sleeping in this hotel room tonight. Finding an old M*A*S*H rerun, she stopped there and tossed the remote back on the nightstand between the two beds.

She sat up, adjusted the long black and blue Carolina Panthers jersey she wore as a nightgown – a grin split her face as she read the number 55…Linebacker Dan Morgan…her favorite player – and lay back against the pillows, grimacing against the stab of pain from her cut knees. She glanced down at the thick white bandages that Chris Brannan had applied a few hours earlier. He'd cleaned out the asphalt, dirt and bits of glass, disinfected the cuts and bandaged them, declaring that they weren't deep enough to require stitches. They were, however, going to hurt like hell for a few days and probably even scar.

Normally she was pretty good about pain. Not one to make a big fuss over it or draw attention to herself when she was hurting. It was just a given to her by now that something somewhere on her was gong to hurt no matter what she did. Her childhood dealing with the injury that had caused the scars on her right foot, ankle, lower leg and thigh had taught her that lesson. And she'd learned it well. Too well if you asked her parents. So no, under normal circumstances, while it may sour her temperament at times, she didn't fret over hurting. Especially not over something as insignificant in the grand scheme of the other injuries she'd sustained in her life as the cuts and abrasions on her knees.

But for some reason, this time, as Brannan had picked and scraped and dabbed and poked and prodded at the wounds, she'd gone all squeamish girlie on him. She'd squeaked, gasped, squelched sobs, shed a tear or two, grimaced, and had squeezed Hunter's hand so hard that she'd heard him suck in a sharp breath once or twice. But he'd never said a word to make her stop. Matter of fact, he'd sat there the whole time, bracing her sideways between his thighs on the couch, her back pressed against his chest, and either stroked her hair or rubbed his callused palm up and down her arm, practically petting her. And he'd murmured soothing words the whole time, even kissing her head once.

Evidently he didn't care if Brannan knew they were…what? A couple? But were they? Didn't matter, she'd concluded. Whether they were or weren't, he couldn't act this way around her with witnesses who might rat them out to his wife. She had cringed mentally at that and shrank away from him, only to find herself pulled back in his arms. Finally, she'd just sighed and given up. She loved this man to distraction. It felt so good to be held by him, and she was so exhausted – both mentally and physically – that she couldn't give it up, not knowing when it may come again. But once Brannan was done with his attention to her knees, having given her care instructions, and left the room, leaving them alone with Nash and Hall, she firmly pushed Hunter away, reaffirming that he had to go. He would not lose his spot because of her.

Hall had turned tail and run at that point, more than happy to chase after some Diva he'd seen walking down the hallway as Brannan had left. Deez had backed her up once Scotty was gone. Again he'd promised to take care of her until she'd gotten hooked up with Stacy. In the end, Hunter had left, begrudgingly, and she'd not seen him again, with the exception of that momentary altercation in the NWO's dressing room.

Still, all that aside, none of that really explained her odd reaction to the medical trainer's administrations. A horrible thought occurred to her…could she be turning into a girlie girl after all? Lord knew whenever she was around Hunter, her brain turned to mush and she couldn't think straight. He made her breathe funny. She wasn't turning into a fawner was she?

God, she hoped not. She really didn't want to be one of those women. One of those clingy, crying females who were helpless without a man around. All pastel pinks, flowery prints, and fruity perfumes who'd bat their eyelashes and simper at a man to make him feel all big and protective. She hated that type. She didn't want to be that way. She was a tough lady, she told herself, no matter what most people thought about her. She definitely was not a Victorian miss who swooned at the thought of getting down and dirty with her man. She had hard edges, a saucy mouth, a bizarrely raunchy sense of humor, and her own code of honor that couldn't be rocked. And she liked herself that way just fine, thanks. Besides, if she turned into one of those women…she shook her head…Genie would tear her apart, piece by piece, when she got home from Iraq. If she got home…

"Okay…you know I've got to ask…what on earth did you see in him?"

Startled out of her ruminations, Nan glanced up, the dark circles under her eyes standing out in frightening contrast to her pale skin. She rolled to her hip on the hard hotel mattress, propped her temple on a closed fist and eyed her new friend warily, wondering if she knew about her and Hunter, and prayed she didn't. It wasn't anything against Stacy. She liked the younger woman just fine, even hoped that they'd become good friends. It was more that, well, the night she'd met her, Stacy had seemed very much in approval of Hunter with Stephanie. And she might not be too thrilled with her bunky for the night to be revealed as the whore – to use Steph's words – that her soon-to-be-ex-husband had taken up with.

Yet, the real bitch of it was, she and Hunter weren't really anything…yet. It was coming, of that she had no doubt. But at the moment, she was just Kane's ex girlfriend of a few hours and Hunter was newly separated. So newly separated that the papers hadn't even been signed yet…thus the reason for her desire of silence. They'd kissed. Once. And she'd told him she loved him, even if it had been by accident. But he'd not returned the sentiment. Even so, she could see something deeper than lust burning in his eyes when he looked at her. Oh, he treated her like a girlfriend, and she responded as if they'd already been together for some time. And, given all that time they'd spent together in Birmingham, she supposed they had. Even though nothing physical had happened between them.

But Stephanie was already spewing her poison into any available ear. At the moment, her own name hadn't been linked to Hunter's because, she presumed, no one wanted to be the one to drop the dime to Kane on his girlfriend. But she wasn't Kane's girl anymore. After tonight, once it got around to all of the employees, there would be no reason keep quiet any longer. No reason to keep her name out of it. And then she really would become, in the minds of those willing to listen, the whore Stephanie had spent the last two years building her up to be. What was that old saying…we're not what we are…we're not what we think we are…we're what others think we are. With Steph's machinations to serve as an accelerate, she'd finally become the Mata Hari the Billion Dollar Princess already claimed she was.

And that's what chapped her ass. People were going to assume she and Hunter had been lovers for months. If she were going to do the time, at least she really could have done the crime. Things like this broke friendships. Her real friends would stick by her in this, she knew that. But her newer ones…they wouldn't have had the time to get to know her well enough to know that there was more to the story than just that she'd set out to steal another woman's husband. Stacy might even be one of those people. That was going to hurt. Oddly enough, as much as Nan wanted to be with Hunter tonight and knew she really shouldn't, the potential of Stacy's disapproval was the motivating factor for her not to stay the night in his room. But she would. Even though she didn't feel really well.

God's honest, she felt horrible. Her mouth was incredibly dry, and had been since she'd awoken outside in the freezing cold and snow, yet she really didn't want to drink anything. Her skin was slightly flushed, but her hands and feet were cold. And yet, she didn't feel like she had a fever. Her throat felt like she'd been punched in the neck, and her head hurt badly. Then there was that dull throbbing in her knees. And she was so very tired. If she didn't know better, she'd say she had the flu, but she'd had the shot, so that wasn't possible was it? Besides, the symptoms she had weren't normal flu-like.
"Earth to Nan? I said, what did you see in him?"

Blinking, she realized Stacy was still waiting on her response and decided to play dumb. "Who?"

"Who, she says," Stacy muttered, then raised her voice so that the redhead could hear her over the running water. "Your now ex-boyfriend. Kane?"

"Oh, him." Nan took a deep breath. "He's brilliant."

The blonde popped her head out of the bathroom, her cinnamon eyes wide in her pretty face. "You're joking."

Nan shook her head, then stopped when it made her ears pound. "No. He's really very intelligent. We could talk for hours on the Romantic period of British literature."

"Really?" Stacy squeaked, as she left the bathroom light on, but pulled the door closed until only a two inch shaft of light was visible. "You mind?"

Nan shook her head. "Not at all. Mind if I leave the TV on down on low?"

"No, go ahead." Stacy hid a grateful smile and walked around to perch on the edge of the hotel bed, and began slathering lotion on her face and arms. "The Big Red Machine and the Romantics, huh? Whoda thunkit?"

The redhead laughed, stiffly sliding her legs under the thin sheet of her own bed. "Not me, that's for sure. Not originally anyway." Her voice took on a sad tone. "He's a good man…deep down…once you get past all the hurt and anger. And he's the only one since…well, the only one in a long time who I could talk literature with and not have them look at me like I was an alien from another planet."

She gave a soft sigh, her eyes trained on her lap. "I never meant for him to get hurt. Not by me."

Stacy didn't know what to say to make her friend feel better. And Lord knew she was curious about that relationship. She'd not known Nan for very long before she and Kane had broken up, only a few weeks and a couple of those, the redhead had spent in the hospital. So she never got the chance to get to know Nan's ex-boyfriend. And maybe that was a good thing, she decided, letting the silence between them fill up with the hijinks of Trapper John and Hawkeye.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if the redhead had ever seen the Kane without his mask, but quickly decided that it was a cruel question. The man had just dumped her that night out in the parking lot a few hours before. Stacy hadn't been on hand to witness it personally, because she would have…done something. She didn't know what precisely, but something. She sure as hell wouldn't have turned a deaf ear and left the woman out in the cold by herself like everyone else had done. She was certainly glad Big Daddy had come along and helped her inside.

Stacy grinned to herself. She hadn't known that Big Daddy and Nan knew each other. And evidently they went way back, as she'd found out earlier. Even before she'd met him herself. And he called her Shug…short for Sugar, she assumed. She grinned again, finding that incredibly sweet…just as she had when she'd been summoned to the NWO's dressing room and found him hovering around the redhead like some sort of avenger. When she'd walked into the room, Big Daddy had been squatting down in front of Nan, both of her hands in his and he was saying something very intense to her, and the redhead was looking at him with a soft smile on her face, and nodding.

Stacy was dying to know what the smiles were all about, even though she thought she might have a good idea. As she was about to announce her presence, Hulk came in at that moment and was very pleased to see her, so her attention had been deviated from the touching scene playing out in the locker room. By the time the Hulkster had gone on, she darted one last look over her shoulder at the corridors where the talent were milling about before the show, intending to go find out what was going on with Big Daddy and her new friend. Her smile grew at the mere thought.

But it faded just as quickly when she spied another old friend pacing the hallway, darting looks in her direction every few seconds. Her brows furrowed. "Hunter?"

He stopped short right in front of her. He lifted his head to look at her, then dart over her head at the occupants of the room, then quickly away again. "Hey Legs."

Stacy had laid a gentle hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Hunter."

"I'm not."

He didn't have to ask what she had meant, because after all, his pending divorce was the hottest gossip backstage. Well, that and whoever it was he was cheating on Steph with – even though he hadn't cheated on her at all. If anything, it was the other way around. "This should have happened a long time ago." He gave a bitter sounding chuckle. "I never should have married the bitch in the first place. God, what an idiot –" he broke off, running a big hand down his face, lowering it to place a fist on his hip. "Don't worry about me, 'kay? I'll be just fine."

Again his eyes darted at the couple inside the dressing room then glanced away again just as quickly. But Stacy caught it this time and followed his gaze. Big Daddy was hugging the redhead and patting her back. Stacy sighed, smiling at the tender scene. "I wonder –"

But she didn't finish as the couple turned to see them standing there. Kevin pulled back from Nan a bit and faced off with them belligerently, his handsome face now a dark scowl. "Cherry Pie," he kicked his head back. "Come on in."

A little put off by Big Daddy's hostile tone, she took a hesitant step forward then pointedly looked back over her shoulder at Hunter. But he wasn't looking at the older man. Or at her. No, her blonde friend's eyes were trained on the woman sitting nearly motionless on the hard metal chair in the middle of the locker room. Then he managed to surprise the blonde.

"Nan?"

The redhead turned slowly, her dark eyes shining. With tears, Stacy thought. She looked miserable, then reminded herself she had reason to. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, if the gossips could be trusted.

But Hunter's gaze didn't waver. "You okay?"

Nan dropped her eyes and nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

Stacy's head swiveled back in his direction, worried about the undercurrent running through the room, and her mouth dropped open seeing her old friend take a step into the NWO's dressing room, his face devoid of emotion. But his eyes, she noticed, his eyes were blazing, almost looked like they were glowing. It was eerie, it and unexpectedly occurred to her that her two male friends were going to go try and maim that maniac Kane.

She knew first hand how protective the two of them were. And while it was a bit of a surprise that they were displaying tactics she was very intimate with over a woman she had no idea that either of them knew, she also wasn't too shocked either. Neither of them had any love lost for the Big Red Machine, and neither of them was above using this situation to go after him either. And something about that just made her angry. This wasn't about their petty agendas but about the heartache her new friend was going through. She was set to tell the over bearing males just that, but Nan's voice stopped her.

"Yes," Nan answered more confidently. "I'm okay."

She lifted her face, for all intents and purposes looking like she wanted to be no where but exactly where she was and everything couldn't have been better. But Stacy could see the smile waver just a bit, and the sadness lurking behind those shining brown eyes, reminding the blonde why she was angry in the first place.

Like the night she'd met her, the redhead had her heart stomped on, and here these two bulls were pawing at the ground, trembling with the anticipation of violence. While sure to be welcomed when she was over the initial hurt like most scorned women would have welcomed it, now was not the time, Stacy decided. Her friend needed a shoulder to cry on, or at least one to lean against, since the redhead didn't strike her as a weeper. Either way, she didn't need the threat of bloodshed. Not now. That could come later. And something told her that Nan would embrace that with a sweet smile on her face and fire in her eyes.

Hunter took another two steps into the room, stopping beside Stacy. "This is insane! I can't let –"

But he stopped at the sound of Nan's voice, and the polite half-smile on her face. "I'm fine, Hunter. Thanks for stopping by. You have a good night, now."

Whoa, Stacy thought, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline. The redhead must not have known him as well as she'd assumed, because no one dismissed Triple H. No one. And that had been a dismissal, sure as shit. Politely southern in origin and sweetly issued, but a dismissal nonetheless.

Hunter knew it too, because he made to move around Stacy, seemingly determined to go over to where her friends were. Then she heard a deep sound from Big Daddy – like a low rumble – and she swallowed hard, now not certain at all this bit of testosterone display was all about protection anymore.
Wisely or unwisely, she decided to intervene before things got ugly. "She said she was fine, Hunter."

"Yeah." Big Daddy eyed the younger man sternly, a growl in his voice. "See you around, Runt."

"Deez," Nan spoke quietly. "Stop it."

And even more amazing to Stacy, that quiet order seemed to soothe both men. Hunter let out a puff of air, and unclenched his fists. Big Daddy shifted his stance and unfolded his arms, becoming less so obviously intimidating. He even leaned against a locker and grinned back over at where Hunter and Stacy stood.

"Yeah, okay." Hunter answered absently, his whiskey gaze still trained on the redhead. "See you around." But he'd stood there for a moment, just staring. Finally he gave himself a shake and stalked away.

And Stacy remembered clearly, as she slid between the sheets of the double bed, that she'd been very concerned for her friends at that moment. She'd never seen them fight. Never wanted to. And especially not over a woman who really didn't appear to be interested in either of them. And that was a real shame, Stacy thought, knowing Hunter's penchant for redheads, as well as how much love Big Daddy had to give.

But she intentionally pushed those thoughts away, her brain latching on to the last thing Nan had said about Kane before she'd taken her mental side trip. Stacy rolled over to face the woman half-sitting up on the other bed. "So you like to read, huh?"

+++++

I'll be there for you
These five words I swear to you
When you breathe I want to be the air for you
I'll be there for you
I'd live and I'd die for you
Steal the sun from the sky for you
Words cant say what a love can do
I'll be there for you
I'll Be There For You - Bon Jovi

February 19, 2002 3:32 a.m. CST
Four Seasons Chicago – Room 4217 – Chicago, IL

As quietly as possible, Nan slipped from between the cool sheets once she was sure Stacy was good and asleep. Practice from years of sneaking out of her parents home in the middle of the night proved to be of benefit as she soundlessly gathered the small tote bag that held toiletries and two changes of casual clothing, her boots, and her purse. She laid them quietly beside the closed adjoining door on the far wall. By the light of the bathroom she wrote a quick note on complementary hotel stationary to Stacy thanking her for the use of the room. She explained that since she really wasn't feeling well, she'd arisen early and had gone to the airport to see if she couldn't get a sooner flight back to North Carolina. In the note, she'd told her new friend not to worry and that she'd call her in a day or two. Folding the note, she scrawled Stacy's name on the outside and set it on the nightstand between the two beds where she was sure the blonde wouldn't miss it.

Then, not bothering to change out of her night shirt or put shoes on, she picked up her things, unlocked the adjoining door, and tried the knob on the other side. Sure enough, it was unlocked as he'd promised it would be. Breathing a sigh of relief, she locked the door on Stacy's side of the room, and closed it with a nearly silent snick, as she pushed the other door open and stepped into Hunter's hotel room.

She walked out into deep blackness, broken only from the flickering light of the television beyond her range of vision, its volume set so low, she could barely hear it. She locked and closed the adjoining door to his room, and set her things with his off to her right in the little closet area behind the main door. Picking her way cautiously through the archway that led deeper into the room, she came to a dead stop at the sight that greeted her.

Hunter lay under the covers of the only bed in the room, a king size – like the one in Birmingham, she noted absently – the sheets and blankets pulled up only as far as his waist. That shock of blonde hair of his trailed loosely over those shoulders, and she couldn't help but stare as his chest moved up and down in the rhythm of deep sleep. A flood of emotions streamed through her. Hope, anxiety, love, lust, worry, and a healthy dose of fear – all of those she'd learned to deal with on a daily basis. But there didn't seem to be anything she could do to block her body's instant response to him. Her pulse was racing, her body melting, as desire tightened hot and hard inside of her. Even worse, she could hear her breathing go irregular and could actually feel her brain cells coming unglued.

She certainly tried to analyze her reaction to him. She couldn't deny that he was handsome – if you liked the will-of-iron-and-a-body-made-for-sin type. She evidently did. But it wasn't just his looks that drew her in. Initially, she'd decided it must have had something to do with his size. Whenever she was around him – before Birmingham – he seemed to take up more than his fair share of space. Even now, at his most vulnerable, asleep and dead to the world, she was aware of those incredibly broad shoulders, that long, heavily muscled body. He had one hand on his belly, the remote to the television still held in his lax fingers, and the other hand was tucked under his pillow. Her eyes were drawn to his wide palmed hand and those strong, thick fingers.

A tremor moved through her. Every time she saw those hands or pictured them in her mind, she thought about what they might feel like on her skin. Would those hands move in that aggressive, arrogant way he walked – as if they had all the time in the world, intended to take it, and damned be anyone who said differently? Another tremor moved through her and her knees melted. Almost literally, since the right one buckled unexpectedly. She caught herself before she hit the floor and leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly as the now spinning room slowed to a halt.

That's is, she told herself. No matter how delicious the man in the bed looked, she needed sleep and she needed it now.

Carefully, she moved across the room to the opposite side of the bed, and eased herself down on the mattress, swinging her legs up and sliding them between the sheets. With a deep sigh, she laid down, resting her head in the pillow next to Hunter's, who slept on, unaware that he had a guest. She watched him for a moment, then rolled towards him, snuggling deep into his side. She plucked the remote from his hand, set the sleep timer for fifteen minutes, and laid the remote on the nightstand. Nan wrapped her arm around his waist and with a deep sigh and soft sound of contentment, laid her cheek on his chest, and closed her eyes. She barely even registered the press of lips on her forehead and the strong arm slipping around her shoulders to cradle her to him before she fell asleep.

+++++

My breath is short; my heart is beating fast
Every time I smile at her she’s smiling back
If I’m dreaming, please just let me sleep
Anyone can see that she’s too good for me
Oh, give her time, she’ll find out soon enough
Just let me have and hold her ‘til she does
What we’ve got going on is so incredible
This chemistry between us feels so wonderful
But knowing me, I’ll probably
Find a way to mess it up
Let Me Be In Love – Tracy Byrd

February 19, 2002 8:41 a.m. CST
Four Seasons Chicago – Room 4217 – Chicago, IL

As quietly as he could, Hunter returned the telephone receiver to its cradle after giving instructions to room service to deliver a large breakfast for two. They'd assured him it would be up in about thirty minutes. He normally wasn't an early riser. But this morning, his eyes had popped open the minute the sun was up and shinning full into the window of his hotel room. It worked out to his advantage, he decided as he turned the television on low for some background noise, stopping at a retro music video program. Setting the remote aside, he cautiously turned to stare down at the luscious body curled next to him.

With gentle fingers, he brushed the stray coppery strands from her face and drank in his fill. This was how he should have awoken last December. But she'd disappeared on him. Not this morning though. He'd barely registered her arrival last night, having been too heavily asleep to do more than cuddle her close, knowing she was exhausted and probably hurting too. But this morning…

He stared down at her, his mouth curling into a sappy smile. Where Nanette Elliott was concerned, he'd lived on fantasy alone since before he'd even met her. His fascination with the redhead ad started with the first letter from her that Shawn had shared with them on the road back in '95. At first it had been out of boredom from road travel. Over the years, he'd made excuses for himself for listening to the tales Shawn had spun about his friend, as well as her insane family. He had blamed the instant attraction to a woman he'd never met on the fact that he was drawn to the Elliott family since his own were the poster children for Dysfunctional.

But any thought that his interest in Nan had more to do with her family than any real connection between them had vanished the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. Their connection had been born that night back in '98 in the chapel at the Veteran's hospital in Charlotte, North Carolina. But it had been cemented the night he'd won the big belt in '99. He'd watched her accept Shawn's comfort over the death of her fiancé, and he hadn't hesitated to include himself in their conversation.

She'd shaken his hand, looked up into his eyes, and he'd felt as if he'd been sucker punched in the gut. For a moment, his mind had been wiped clean as a slate. And when he'd rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand in a blatant flirtatious gesture, and she'd responded dabbing the tip of her tongue against her full bottom lip, he'd had his first inkling that the chemistry between them was operating both ways. That suspicion had been confirmed when she had lowered her eyelids to smolder up at him. Her hand had trembled. He had never made a woman tremble before – one who wasn't a marked out fan – by simply holding her hand.

And the pulse at her throat had hammered so frantically that he'd almost kissed her right then and there. Even with Shawn and Chyna right there. That might not have been enough to stop him. Not even with the idea that she was like a little sister to his best friend, and that making a move on her might jeopardize his relationship to the only real family he'd ever known – Shawn, Rebecca, and his godson Cameron. And not even his own relationship to Chy would have kept him from kissing her. What had stopped him cold was the sudden fear that if he tasted her – even once – he might not be able to stop himself from having her. Right there back stage at Vince McMahon's premier of Smackdown, with Shawn and Chy watching.

No other woman had ever tempted him that way, had ever affected him that way. Well, he contradicted himself, one had. But she'd not been a woman, but a teenager. A teenager as he himself had been, that had been absolutely terrified of the man chasing her, and she'd used him as a shield while his dad had dealt with the situation. He couldn't really remember her face too well, because she'd mostly hidden behind him. But he did remember she had bright red hair. He grinned again. He thought of that girl from time to time, and attributed his penchant for redheads to her. Looking back down into the face of the sleeping woman beside him, he offered up silent thanks to that unknown teenager and wished her well, wherever she may have ended up after his dad had walked her back to where her friends were waiting for her.

A sleepy sound from her drew his attention to her eyes, which fluttered open. She blinked for a moment, then gave him a sleepy smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. Sleep okay?"

She nodded, and gave a slight stretch, that caused her to rub against him. The more rational side of his brain told him that room service was on the way with their breakfast. But his body paid no attention to his brain. He was already leaning closer so that he was almost directly over her.

A shiver moved through her, but it wasn't fear he saw in her eyes. It was a mix of desire, nerves, and something else he couldn't name, almost exactly what he was feeling. He closed the little distance that was left between them, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was her scent that hit him first, something that reminded him of green fields of clover…almost a honey smell, and something distinctly sweeter…almonds maybe. Her wide, melted chocolate eyes were the next things that registered in the rational part of his mind. When he dropped his gaze to her mouth, his rational mind began to shut down. Her lips were parted, moist, waiting…and she was so hot…a song from the video channel broke through his lust-fogged brain, and couldn't help but agree with the words, even if he couldn't voice them.

I never needed love
Like I need you
And I never lived for nobody
But I live for you
Ooh babe
Lost in love is what I feel
When I'm with you

"I love this song," she murmured, lost for anything else to say at the proprietary look in his eyes.

The corners of his mouth curved. "Me too." That was a lie actually. But if that song, and whoever it was did it were responsible for the look in her eyes at that very moment as she gazed up at him, he vowed he'd like whomever it was performing the sappy love ballad. Forever. He'd even buy the damn album. As long as she would look at him like that whenever she heard it.

He reached out and gently rubbed his thumb over that bottom lip. So lush. "What would you say if I told you that I've been thinking about kissing you since the night we met at Smackdown?"

Her eyes widened. "Then I'd say we've wasted a hell of a lot of time."

He nodded. "My fault. But I won't waste any more. I promise."

Maybe its the way you touch me
One of those times
Maybe its the way my heart
Has come undone
Ooh, Babe
Lost in love
Is what I feel
when I'm with you

Her breath hitched and surprise now mixed with the desire he saw in her eyes. Satisfied, he framed her face with his hands. In some part of his brain, he registered that her skin was even softer and her hair even silkier than he'd dreamed. And that skin was so warm to the touch…almost uncomfortably hot. But then she darted her tongue out to slick her lips and all of his attention focused on her mouth.

Baby yeah...
What would I do with out you, oh...
Oh Baby
My hopes are true
when I'm with you
When I'm with you


Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers. It wasn't a kiss, just the barest pressure of his mouth to hers, yet his blood began to pound in his head. When he drew back, she moistened her lips with her tongue again, as if she hadn't got enough of his taste. Heat shot through him. He wanted more of her too. Unable to resist, he sampled her lower lip with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth and nipped it. Pleasure clouded her eyes and her pulse quickened beneath his thumb at her temple.

Hunger for her rose with a speed that shocked him. He was just going to kiss her, he reminded himself. Wait until they were somewhere other than a hotel before he made love to her for the first time. Somewhere romantic, where he could take his time and not worry about having to catch a plane right afterwards. But he only had to press his mouth to hers again for his intention to change. One more taste was all it took, and without another thought, he plunged them both deeper.

I never cared for nobody
But I care for you
And I never wanted to share the things
I want to share with you
Oh, Babe
Lost in love
Is what I feel
When I'm with you

He'd thought he knew what she tasted like from that one kiss they'd shared last month. But her flavor was more sinfully sweet and rich than he remembered. The deeper he probed, the darker and richer it grew. Her response was unexpected too. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her mouth was a greedy as avid as his. He'd sensed the passion held in check beneath that easy-going causal exterior of hers. But this was more. She was more than he'd anticipated. He only had to slide one big hand down to cup her bottom through the football jersey she wore, and she scooted up, wrapping her legs around him.

What astonished him most was his response to her. He'd never been so aware of a woman before – the press of that small, strong body against his and the husky sound of her voice when she said his name triggered explosions of pleasure than went far beyond any fantasy he'd been able to conjure up. His blood had burned before, but never quite like this. And control – he never lost it. Never. But he could feel it slipping as surely as he could feel the synapses disconnecting in his brain. When she arched against him and began to rub against his rapidly aching, hard cock, something inside him snapped.

Baby yeah...
What would I do without you
Oh, baby
My world would be blue without you
Oh, baby
what would I do without you
Oh, Baby
My world would be blue with out you
I need you

One thought streamed through him. He wanted her. He wanted her and he could have her. Now. The certainty of that, the power of it shot through him and he moved more aggressively over her, his hands moving of their own accord. The one not occupied with cupping and squeezing the plump cheek in his fingers slid up and underneath the oversized jersey. His questing fingers traced the underside of one full breast, pulling tiny moans from her throat. He kept his eyes trained on her face as he skimmed the pads of his fingers up to tease the crest before squeezing gently.

The sound she made, along with the whisper of his name, shot a bolt of lightening straight to his cock. The hand massaging her bottom moved away to pull at the waistband of his boxers, stripping them from his body in record time. He lay braced over her, his cock fully aroused, heavy and hot prodding at her belly through the jersey she still wore, and the minx began to shift from side to side rubbing it between them.

Groaning, he stripped it from her, ripping it right down the center and shoving the pieces away, vowing to replace it if it had been a favorite. His eyes lit from behind when they fell on those breasts that until this moment had only been seen in his fantasies. Fantasies didn't do them justice. Full and round, pouting and proud, the pink tips puckered beneath his gaze alone, and he'd barely even touched them. With a growl, he lowered his head, and sucked one taught nipple into his mouth. Nan arched up off the bed in a groan that he felt down to the tips of his toes. He cupped the other breast, rolling the nipple gently between his fingers, mimicking the movements of his tongue and teeth on its mate.

With his free hand, he skimmed it down her side, to rest at the juncture of her thighs. When she gave him no hint that she wanted him to stop, he curled his finger under the elastic edge of her panties, teasing the curls there. With just the tip of his index finger, he traced the seam of her folds already finding them slick with her welcome of his attentions to her body. Shifting a bit, he parted the folds and plunged one finger deep, pulling a cry from her that he was fairly positive was heard at least next door if not above and beneath them. Her body began to tremble and he felt the contractions of her inner muscles around his finger as she rode out her orgasm.

Oh, his fantasies never quite got this good. She was more responsive to him than he'd ever imagined. He grinned around the nipple he still sucked on, added a second finger to the first and began sliding them in and out. The soft cries from her rang as music to his ears.

Hunter wasn't a man who particularly liked surprises. And the sudden knock on the hotel room door definitely wasn't a welcome one when it came. With great exertion of will, he pulled his lips away from the turgid nipple in his mouth, and panted heavily, "Room service. I ordered us breakfast. They'll leave it out there."

Nodding, her eyes glassy and bright, Nan merely whimpered, arching upwards to remind him of what he'd been doing before they'd been interrupted. He pulled back a bit, readying himself to drive deep into her, and take them both to the moon.

The knock came again, and this time a voice they both knew accompanied it. "Hunter come on! I know you're awake! I can hear the TV! And since when do you like love songs, anyway?!"

With a screech he was sure was heard out in the hallway, Nan slid out from under him and limped painfully, yet at a decent clip to the bathroom, even if she had wobbled drunkenly into the wall before making it inside, he thought absently. She shut the door and shortly afterwards he heard the shower start up. With a pained groan, he dropped his head into the pillow where but a moment ago, the woman of his most explicit fantasies had lain.

Again the knock. "Hunter!"

"Coming! Hang on a second will ya?!"

Throwing aside the sheets tangled around his ankles, he stood up and immediately his gaze was drawn downwards to where his cock jutted semi-proudly at a right angle from his body, already having started going down when the first pounding on his door had begun. "Jesus, but you can hang a flag on it."

Working himself up into a fine temper, he jerked on the blue jeans draped over the chair next to the bed, and cautiously zipped up, but left the top button undone. Barefooted he plodded over to the door and wrenched it open, scowling hard at the perky face on the other side. "You know, anyone else who woke me up at this ungodly hour I'd pound into a grease spot in the hallway."

"Oh, don't even try it. You don't scare me and you know it. Besides I told you I heard the television, so I didn't wake you up either," she smiled at him. "Wassa matter Count Grumpula? Wake up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning?"

Hunter sighed. "Whaddya want, Legs?"

Stacy's pretty smile turned down into a frown as she held up a silver cuff bracelet with a plain black watch face in the center. "Have you seen Nan? She left me a note saying she'd scooted out earlier this morning, but she left her watch behind. I was wondering if she were still around."

He swallowed hard, but kept his face impassive, then folded his arms over his naked chest and leaned against the doorjamb preventing entry just in case she got any ideas. "And you came to me why? I barely know the woman." Well, at least that last part was almost true, he told himself. He knew her, but not half as well as he would have liked to.

She scowled at him, crinkling her nose and planting a hand on her hip. "Because you seemed to give a damn last night and because she knows Big Daddy. And you know how he is in the mornings."

Hunter nodded. He did indeed. "Fess up, Legs. You didn't want him to yell at you for waking him, now did you?"

"Well, you're a lot more agreeable in the mornings than he is," she pointed a finger at him, waggling it. "And mind you, that's not saying much! Anyway, I thought that he'd know where I could find her since they seem to be…friends." She stressed the last word, hoping Hunter would confirm or disp