Title: Seeds of Suspiscion
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution: Empress' Private Library and The Wayside Inn  All others ask first.
Rating:  NC17 again bordering or dancing all over a XXX rating - and this actually comes as a shock to whom??
Characters: Hunter/Nan; brief appearance by Ric Flair and Dixie the Wonder Wiener dog.
Spoilers:  RAW 6/21/04 and 6/28/04
Warnings: Raw, primal, almost violent sex, a smidgen of angst, and foul language...I curse a lot...wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Please note, that this one treads that line of what most people would consider acceptable and non-acceptable sexual behavior - meaning, it's crude, crass, and blurs the line that separates intense sex from rough sex.  And by now we all know that this story is about Triple H.  So either read it and enjoy or get over it already.
Summary: Ugh….I suck at summaries!!  But here goes….I bet you guys thought I forgot about that picture with the date on it that Hunter found at Nan's parent's house, didn't ya??  Well, I didn't.  Neither did Hunter. And he's got something to prove.
Author’s Notes #1: At this point, I don't even think this one has a plot - but it's setting up one.  I swear.  Really.  And there's definitely some sex involved.  Blame Hunter.
Author's Notes #2:  The column referred to on this site is indeed written by me, and can be found - for those interested - at my website Empress' Garden of Dreams.  Just click on the "Musings" button and then go to the "Satin Sheets" page.  It's called "Heroes."  Or, the hyperlink is Heroes.
Author's Notes #3:  I bought Ric Flair's book To Be The Man this past Friday.  Why?  Many reasons, but mainly because I had to check out one of my hero's hero. (Read the book's introduction, written by Triple H, and that statement will make more sense.)  It's a phenomenal read and I highly recommend it to anyone who's really interested in the early days of professional wrestling as well as what the man behind the "Nature Boy" is really like.  Awesome.
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer: Not mine - theirs. Some are mine and I'm keeping those. No money made. Sue me and you can have my 15 year old car. Because that's about the extent of what I own.  And if you want her, she does best on Super Premium gasoline.  Oh, and the gear gage doesn't work, so if you put her in reverse, she'll be in neutral, and for drive, put her in reverse.  Get it??  Good.  I'll leave her in the drive with the keys in the ignition.

Hunter & Nan's house
July 1, 2004 

Something was wrong.  She didn't know what, exactly.  But things just hadn't been the same since…before Badd Blood, come to think of it.  At first, she'd thought it was just nerves.  Hers.  His.  It didn't matter really.  That had been a seriously intense weekend anyway.  And the days following…she shuddered, not really wanting to think about that. 

It wasn't like they were mad at each other.  No, if nothing else, anger wasn't the issue. And it certainly wasn't inattentiveness either.  Heaven knew he'd been "all-up-in-your-business-daily" lately.  He'd almost been too attentive.  Like he was watching her.  Waiting for something.  Regardless, though, things just weren't clicking between them like they usually did.  And she really didn't know why.  But it was starting to bug her.  Big time.

Distance.  That was it, or part of it, she thought to herself, attacking the bread dough with more force than really necessary.  But hey, that was the good thing about making homemade bread.  You got to pound the living shit out of it an no one ever questioned you at all.  Not Hunter, anyway.  He usually just watched and laughed at her, finding it amusing to watch her take out her frustrations on baked goods, especially when he got to reap the benefits of it.  That, or  he paid no attention at all. 

"Typical male," she made a little growling sound as she thumped the dough hard enough on the counter to send up little puffs of flour clouds into the air. She beat it down some more before picking it up and throwing it into a bowl.  With brisk, efficient movements, she covered the bowl, placed it on the warm stove to rise, set the timer, and began clearing off the butcher-block island, her mind whirling a mile a minute.

Distance, she decided again.  That's really the only thing she could put a finger on.  Hunter seemed to withdraw emotionally from her, putting distance between them.  But the minute she figured she'd have to chain him down to get him to tell her what in the hell was wrong, he'd do an about face and everything between them would be just all hunky-dory again.  At least on his part.  For her, it was starting to make her nuts.  She was on edge, feeling like she was walking a tightrope that she didn't even know how she'd gotten on in the first place.

"I swear to God, men have PMS too, but just nothing to show for it!" Nan continued to grumble, as she literally tossed pots and pans into the dishwasher, before dragging out the ingredients to make a pepperoni lasagna.  

Cooking had always been a balm for her.  And whenever she needed to think, like now, or when she was working on one of her columns, and she hit a tough spot, she'd get up and cook something.  Didn't matter what.  Just anything she had the ingredients for.  Between her fast approaching deadline - with no column in sight yet - and this…this…crap…going on between her and Hunter, their freezer was filling up fast.

Her mind drifted over the past two weeks, one show in Miami and the other in Richmond.  Richmond had been fun.  Shows in "Flair Country" always were.  Hunter was well loved in the Southern towns and Ric was practically a god.  And Evolution was very over with the fans as well.  It had been nice hearing the folks in the arena chanting for Hunter, rather than against him as they usually did.  And she couldn't have been more pleased with the way Hunter had kept Eugene on his side, effectively swaying him with the truth, or mostly the truth anyway.  She just hoped Hunter didn't underestimate the young man, and his hero worship.  That could end up being a very bad mistake. 

But Miami the week prior had been off the hook, for personal reasons of her own.  Of course though, Miami usually was.  Seeing Heather and Brandon again had been fantastic, she thought fondly of her old roommate from college.  Hunter and Ric had dropped her off at Brandon's office before they'd picked up Eugene for their "day out," before his and Hunter's match that evening.  But they'd stayed long enough so that Hunter finally got to meet Nan's friends, and their kids, that he'd just heard about and talked to on the phone for almost two years.

Seth, the oldest, had been ecstatic to meet Triple H and the Nature Boy, and "Na-nan" had gone up highly in the eight year old's estimation for "bringing them to meet him," as the precocious child had put it.  Ashleigh, who was only four, didn't really care, but she enjoyed being tossed into the air and caught again by Ric, who seemed genuinely enthralled by the adorable little girl with sandy-brown hair, infectious wide grin, and her mother's sparkling hazel eyes.

The most surprising part of her morning had been when Heather herself had walked into the office, carrying the baby with which she was supposed to have still been pregnant.  When Nan had called Heather to tell her she was going to be there that day, her friend had still been pregnant.  But in the days to follow, little Jacob had decided to come early.  Heather and Brandon thought it would be fun to surprise Nan with the new baby.  And surprise her they had.  Heather laid five day old Jacob in Nan's arms, and astonished with wonder, Nan turned to look at Hunter.  He just smiled back at her, with an odd, unreadable expression in his eyes.  He'd watched them for a few moments, before coming and leaning in over Nan's shoulder to peer closer at the surprisingly alert and wide-eyed infant.  With a squeeze to her shoulder and a kiss to the back of her head, Hunter moved away again, turning his attention back to trading "punches" with Seth.

While Hunter and Ric were schmoozing Bischoff's nephew all day, all over Miami, she'd gotten to spend time with her god-children.  A day well spent, culminating with taking Brandon and Seth with her to the RAW show that night.  The black haired little boy had been in absolute heaven when The Rock had come out first thing.  And he just got more excited from that point forward.  Normally an overly hyper child, the moment he, Nan, and Brandon had stepped backstage to let him meet some of the wrestlers, Seth went still, quiet and shy. 

Nan smiled to herself, as she slid the brimming 9x13 pan of lasagna into the oven. She chuckled, as she set a second timer, remembering the total look of awe on her godson's face when he got to shake hands with his personal favorite wrestler, The Hurricane.  Heather had called her a few days later to tell her that if she had to hear, "Stand back!  There's a Hurricane comin' through!" just one more time, she was going to have Nan killed.  That and also, Seth was still sleeping in the mask his hero had given to him.

Heroes, Nan thought.  Bingo!  The mess from the pepperoni lasagna forgotten, she dashed down the hall to her office, knowing exactly what she was going to write this week's column about. 

~<>~ 

Hunter came in from the private gym he'd had built, exhausted, muscles trembling from the rigorous workout he'd given himself.  All he wanted was a scalding hot shower, and a whole evening of nothing to do.  Stopping by the laundry room, he kicked off his sneakers, stripping off his sweat-soaked white tank-top and socks, chunking the clothes at the hamper, before continuing on inside, just in his cotton work-out pants. 

He rotated his left shoulder, wincing slightly.  The muscle and joint were still a little tender from his match with Eugene the two Mondays ago, and then again with Regal just the previous Monday.  He'd  not been kidding when he'd yelled that Eugene had hurt his arm.  That kid had a lot more strength than Hunter had given him credit for. And he was good, too.  Eugene had shown some definite talent for ring work. That'd been a wake-up call, definitely.  He'd given some serious thought to how he was going to proceed with the little twerp from there, and was very pleased with how it had turned out in Richmond.  Things were proceeding precisely according to plan with his current career track. 

If only his home life were running as smoothly.  He'd been distant ever since the RAW after the Hell In A Cell match.  And Nan couldn't help but have noticed it, even though he'd tried to keep things on an even keel between them.

He sighed heavily, moving further into the house, wondering where she was.  He speculated briefly if he could convince her to rub down his shoulder after he showered.  Yeah, he sighed mentally.  That shower was definitely going to feel good.  He breathed in deeply through his nose, and his stomach kicked in.

"Oh, yeah," he growled, as his belly did the same.  Following his nose, he wandered down the hall, towards the kitchen, and straight into a war zone.  Actually, it wasn't that bad.  It just wasn't like her to leave a mess behind when she cooked.  She usually cleaned as she went.

"Musta gotten the topic of that column figured out," he mused aloud.

Breathing in again, he enjoyed the mouth-watering aromas flavoring the air around him.  He could smell the banana pudding cooling on the counter, and the simmering pot of cheddar potato stew in the crock-pot.  A spicy Italian aroma was wafting out from the dual ovens on the wall.  He flipped the light on in the other oven, nodding, recognizing the aluminum foil covered shapes, and appreciating the scent of butter roasted corn still in the shucks.  There was also something yeasty smelling in the air and whatever it was, it was crawling out of its bowl and across the stove at him.  Bread.  Wait a second, he thought, mentally taking count.  Two main dishes, a vegetable, a desert, and homemade bread.  And it was only one o'clock in the afternoon.

"Damn," he propped a tired fist on the counter. She'd definitely noticed something was bothering him.

He'd tried to not let that damn picture bother him so much.  He'd told himself time and time again that it didn't matter.  It'd had obviously happened before they'd even gotten together.  She didn't hold his past against him, so why should he let hers bother him? 

But it did.  And after seeing Al Snow hug her at RAW on the Monday night after Badd Blood, it was eating a hole in his gut.  Normally he wasn't a jealous person.  Possessive, sure.  Nobody, but nobody ever took what was his.  She was his.  And she had been his since the first time she'd ever seen him, self-admittedly.  It had just taken him some time to figure that out.  But he wasn't jealous.  No way. 

He shook himself, both mentally and physically.  Looked like it was time to actually talk about this, sheesh.  Putting off the inevitable just a little longer, he stirred the stew, and cut the heat on it down to simmer.  The timer went off on the lasagna, so he turned the oven off and pulled the pan out, setting it on the island to cool, then did the same with the corn.  Looking around the kitchen, he realized there really wasn't anything else he could do to delay any more, aside from the science experiment that definitely looked like it had hostile intentions.  And there was no way he was going to touch "The Blob."

With a heaviness to his step, he walked through the dining room and out into the den, towards the side hallway that lead to their bedroom, her office, as well as his own.  The door was open, and even before he could see her, he could hear the rapid fire tapping of her fingers on the keyboard to her computer.  Not actually coming into the room, Hunter rested his forearm against the doorway over his head, leaving his finger dangling in mid-air.  He propped his left hip against the jamb, hooked his thumb in the waistband of his workout pants, and watched her type.  He stood there for a moment, wrestling with himself over what exactly he was going to say.

"You gonna speak, or just stand there and stare at me,"  she murmured softly, never taking her eyes off of the words appearing on the screen in front of her.

He shook his head, smiling, and moved into the room.  "How do you do that?"

"I heard you breathing.  That, and I could smell you."

That gave him pause.  "I must need that shower more than I thought."

Continuing to type, she laughed.  "I didn't say that you stink, Hunter.  Just that I could smell you.  You have a very distinctive scent."

A perfect opening, he thought. He came up behind her, laying both big hands on her shoulders, sinking his fingers into the coppery red strands that cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, and pooled up in the crooks of her bent elbows.   "You've got something growing on the stove.  I think it tried to kill me."

"Onion bread.  Leave it be.  It's supposed to look like that."

"Like it's alive?" he laughed.

"When it reaches for a weapon, then I'll worry."

"You've been cooking a lot lately."

"Mmmm-hmm.  Oh, that reminds me, Bischoff called while when you were in the gym."

"You talk to him?"

"Not any longer than necessary.  He wants you to call him back."

"Ah, fuck him."

"Not in this lifetime," she answered deadpan.

Leaning in over her shoulder, his eyes skimmed down the screen to see what topic she'd decided to work on.

I’d go into the den with my grandfather, and watch professional wrestling, or "wrastlin’" as he called it, until around two or three in the afternoon.  I’d sit on his lap, or on the floor, and cheer on, or boo, wrestling greats such as Black Jack Mulligan, Wahoo McDaniel, Ricky Steamboat, Andre the Giant and Ric Flair.

"You're writing about classic wrestling?"  He asked, surprised by her choice of topic.

"Not directly, no," she denied.  "I'm writing about heroes."

"And you mentioned Naitch?"

"Mmm-hmm.  He's your hero, right?"

"Well, yeah.  But you hate him."

"So?  Maybe I need to re-think that."

Hunter didn't say anything for a moment as her fingers continued to fly over the keyboard.  "Baby," he began, tightening his fingers on her shoulders, unknowingly zeroing in on a tight knot.

She moaned low in her throat, her fingers stopping instantly, her head rolling forwards.  "Mmmmmmm."

"Like that do you?"  he chuckled wickedly, pressing deeper, applying delicious pressure to the sore knot of tension.

"Oh, God, yes."

And suddenly, with that tone in her voice, it just didn't really seem to matter about the picture anymore.  They'd have to talk about it eventually.  But he'd wait for a better time.  Now certainly wasn't that time.  Damn the past.  And damn that picture, too.  He'd deal with both later.  Right now, he was going to deal with her.

Instead, he slid her hair off her neck and leaned down, trailing his lips and tongue along the smooth column of her throat up to her earlobe, which he couldn't resist nipping with his teeth, sending shivers of desire zinging through her bloodstream. 

His voice was a low, heavy growl, "Click save."

Slowly, she turned her head and caught the primal, possessive, almost savage look on Hunter's face.  Heat pooled up between her thighs and her stomach started turning somersaults in her middle.  With a small nod, she did as he directed, saving the document, and then shut down the computer.

The moment the screen went black, he pulled her chair away from the desk and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.  He reveled in her startled yelp of surprise at suddenly finding herself upside down. 

"Hunter!"

His only response was a sharp slap to her backside, eliciting a distinct hiss from the woman dangling over his shoulder.  But she didn't say anything else.

Turning, he carried her out of her office and into their bedroom, pausing only long enough to point at the door, and bellow, "Out!"

Unimpressed with his "alpha male" tactics, Dixie took her sweet time shuffling off the bed, seemingly enjoying watching him fume as she sauntered lazily out of the bedroom.  Hunter twisted Nan around so she stood on her own two feet, then whirled her away from him, pulling her backwards hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

He kicked the door shut and leaned back against it, pulling her with him.  He slid one muscular arm around her waist, pulling backwards, causing her to fall into him.  She gasped, and dropped her head backwards so it lay against his shoulder, giving him access to her throat.  He ignored it.

Hunter slid one hand up under Nan's tank top, and the other down beneath the elastic waistband of her shorts. She began to pant raggedly as Hunter cupped a breast, teasing the pebbled nipple with his thumb, and gently teased the folds between her legs with the other. He was surprised to find her already soaking wet. 

"Who have you been thinking about today, baby?"  He growled into her ear, his lips so close her skin felt scalded from the heat in his breath, and the whiskers of his beard teasing her earlobe.

"…you…" she panted, her eyes rolling back in her head in sensation as he dipped a thick finger inside, then back out again, going back to stroking her.

"Thinking of me makes you this hot," he teased again, removing his hand from her breast and again wrapping it around her waist to keep her pressed fully against him.

Moaning, she nodded, her hands coming up to clench down on the steel band of his arm around her waist.  Pressing back, she wantonly rubbed herself against his crotch, delighted when he cursed under his breath. 

In an unexpected move, he lifted his hand from around her middle, curled his fingers around the neckline of her tank, and in one fluid move, ripped it from top to bottom.  He slid it from her shoulders and flung the ragged garment to the floor.  Then he repeated the action with her shorts and underwear  until she was naked in his arms.  With a growl, he picked Nan up and unceremoniously dumped her right in the middle of their king-sized bed.  His eyes never leaving hers, he removed his work-out pants, then stood up, his brow furrowed, his whiskey colored eyes practically glowing.

Hunter gave her just a moment to drink in the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, glowering down at her in a way that made her blood boil in her veins, before he knelt on the mattress and crawled up her body.  Without saying a word, he braced an elbow on either side of her head and stared down at her.

Finally, he snarled, "You're mine," before covering her mouth with his.

He kissed her deeply, tasting of heat, desire and a ferocity that was just Hunter.  Breathing in, she savored the clean sweat smell of him, hot, and earthy, inflaming her senses.  She whimpered as he teased her mouth open with the barest tip of his tongue, and quivered when he thrust his tongue inside, hard, and deep.  One large hand curled into her hair, holding her head in place, and the other raised to cup one breast.  She moaned around his tongue and he growled low in his throat, a sound of pleasure that set her on fire.  She clenched her arms around his back, holding herself to him as he kneaded her breast until she ached for him. 

With her pinned beneath him, Hunter tore his lips from hers, then bent his head to her throat, latching on and sucking furiously.  A high pitched wail erupted from her lips as he knew it would.  And he rumbled deep in his chest, in answer.  This time he was gonna leave a mark.  Let everyone know who saw it who she belonged to.

 Moaning incoherently, Nan lowered her mouth to Hunter's shoulder, and bit him…hard.

He let go and pulled back, searching her eyes with his, the heat in them burning her skin wherever they touched her. The raging animal in him was snarling just below the surface, and she wanted him to come out and play.  "Not a wise move, baby."

"I never claimed to be wise."  She smiled seductively, shivering in anticipation at what she hoped was about to happen.  He didn't let her down.

"I want to fuck you," he said throatily, and her eyes dilated, the lashes drooping with desire. 

The way he said it, the way he used such a base word so casually, but with so much drive and passion, stirred her more than any sweet nothing could have.  To hear him reduced to such animalistic desire proved a heady aphrodisiac.  She whimpered, and the way he grinned was feral... dangerous…and it ignited her, causing her to shiver in his arms.

"Oh, Hunter, yes..."

Leaning forward until his breath hissed against her ear, he repeated, "I want to fuck you.  Hard and fast and deep. I want to drive into you until you tremble.  I want to hear you scream my name as you come.  I want you helpless underneath me, feeling what I want you to feel, doing what I want you to do.  I want you shameless and begging."

He squeezed her breast again, then dipped his hand and unerringly found the fire that he had started in her.  He buried his fingers deep inside her, his thumb grinding against her clitoris at the same time.  She shuddered, threw her head back and came.

"I take it that’s a yes," he asked, almost pleasantly, favoring her with a dark, sinister grin.

She managed to nod.  She couldn’t quite force the words out.  She started to pull him back down to her, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her upright, then pushed against her shoulder until she got his meaning and turned away from him. 

"No, baby.  Like this.  I want you like this," he said, pushing her forward at the waist until she was on all fours for him.

"That's my girl." he growled softly, slipping his fingers back inside her and twisting them until she craned her head backwards, her coppery hair spilling across her shoulders.

He slid his hand in and out of her, varying the angle, pushing at her inner walls until she was almost crying out for him.  Then he placed a hand on each hip and she gasped, knowing what was coming.  It was still a shock when he shoved himself home.  She thought she might well collapse from pleasure.  No one.  No one had ever made her feel like this. 

He grunted as he pumped her, and she braced her hands and knees against the mattress, trying not to be thrown off balance.  He thrust into her as hard as he could, occasionally slamming into her with a sweet agony that was almost unbearable.  She found herself arching and thrusting backwards, trying to increase the pressure.  When she did, he leaned along her back, leaving it to  her to keep them both upright as he rode her. 

"Hunter, you're driving me insane!"

"Who do you belong to," he growled,  slipping his hands beneath her to seize her breasts.  He didn’t caress her teasingly, or stroke her nipples to hardness; instead, he pinched them, hard, almost harder than she could take without it being too painful, but not quite.  "Say it!  Who do you belong to!"

"To you!  Always have!"

"Damn right, you do," he breathed again.  When she cried out he thrust harder and faster, grunting with each motion now, and doubled his attentions to her breasts. "Sweet Jesus, Nan!  Oh, fuck!"

Hunter thrust into her hard and fast. Nan urged him on with her body and voice, "Oh god, Hunter, yes. Please, please, Hunter--fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck me, oh god, oh god, oh..."

When at last he curled his body against hers and sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of her shoulder, he squeezed both breasts in his palms, at the same time.  They both climaxed explosively, screaming each other’s names.

Panting heavily, Nan’s legs slid down the mattress, so she was lying flat on her stomach, damp strands of her hair moving with the little puffs of breath coming from her open lips.  Hunter followed her down, laying fully on her for a moment, sliding his hands down her arms, and curling his fingers around hers.  Rearing back, he tossed his damp hair away from his face and leaned back down, pressing light, gentle kisses along the side of her face. 

With a deep sigh, he withdrew from her body, and rolled over onto his back, his chest rising and falling like he'd just finished a match.  They lay side by side, neither saying a word, until finally Hunter turned his head, feeling her eyes on him.

"You okay, baby?" he whispered, leaning up on his elbow, and gently pushing the hair from her face.  Her breath was still coming in short quick gasps, and her brown eyes were incredibly huge as they stared at him.  "Baby?"

"I'm…still...c-conscious."  She shifted towards him just a bit, and he reached out, gathering her close to him, tugging her across the bed to lay half-draped over him.  He curled his arm around her, running his hand down the back of her head and across her shoulders in a gentle, "petting" caress. 

"What…what in the hell…p-prompted that," she panted against his chest.

He made some non-committal sounding noise.  "You okay, though?"

"Y-yeah."  She nodded, sighing, and curling her arm around his neck, running her fingers through the damp blonde strands on his shoulders.

Hugging her to him, he flipped up the corner of the coverlet over them both.  Leaning up slightly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then nudged her head back so he could look into her eyes.  He traced the outline of her lips with his thumb, slowly, and tenderly.  She trembled from that gentle touch, and her mouth watered for want of him.  He trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek, before taking her lips again, softly, and gently.  When he pulled away, she nestled in.  Hunter sank back down into his pillow, shoving one hand behind his head. 

He knew damn well what had prompted that display of "caveman tactics."  But what had started out with him proving something to her - namely that she belonged to him and no one else - had not ended up the way he'd intended it to.  He'd ended up proving something entirely different to himself.  But exactly what that something was, well…he didn't want to think about that right now. 

~<>~ 

The sky showing through the skylight over their bed was orange when Nan opened her eyes.  She was still lying in the crook of Hunter's arm, where they both had passed out from their earlier lovemaking session.

Sex session, she corrected herself.  Love had precious little to do with whatever that had been.  Still, she smiled.  She'd definitely enjoyed herself, and she wondered for a fleeting moment what the trigger had been in case she wanted him to do it again at some point.

Cautiously, she eased up onto her elbow and just looked at him, his face relaxed in sleep, his blond hair, now dry, fanned out on the pillow.  He was truly a beautiful man.  Inside and out as far as she was concerned.  Sure, he had his darker side.  And if she were quite honest with herself, that side turned her on nearly as much as his gentler nature did.  Maybe more sometimes.

With a light touch, she ran her fingers through his hair, a tender smile on her face as he shifted in his sleep, his incredibly soft lips tilting up in a slight grin.  Her heart swelled in her chest and she got that hot prickly feeling behind her eyes, as she thought about how much he meant to her.  Carefully, she kissed his cheek, and slipped out of the bed.  Shrugging into her robe, she quietly opened the bedroom door, and walked out, leaving the door open just barely.

She never saw his eyes open, then narrow as she left the room. 

~<>~ 

She'd been doing that a lot lately, Hunter thought to himself.  Waiting until she thought he was asleep before getting out of bed.  Most of the time, she'd go back to cooking or working on whatever column was due for the upcoming deadline.  But this time, she'd stared at him before leaving.  He could feel her eyes on him.

Acid built up in his belly, gnawing away at him.  The seed of suspicion had been planted.  It was growing, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to avoid it.  So he lay there….and listened.

She'd gone into her office.  He heard her pick up the phone - the separate business line that was only in her office - so he couldn't very well listen in.  After a brief moment, she began to talk.

"Hey, it's me.  Yes…no, I…just listen, okay?  I need to talk to you.  Well, sooner would be preferable to later.  Uhm…yeah, I guess so. Okay.  Where?  Yeah, I know the place. How about thirty minutes? See you then." 

He heard her hang up the phone and mutter a quiet, "Shit."  Closing his eyes, he faked sleeping as he listened to her come back into the bedroom, through to the bathroom and shut the door. She must have taken the world's quickest shower, because she was back out of the bathroom in about five minutes. He opened his eyes, just barely, into mere slits and watched unbeknownst to her.  She slipped into a clean tank-top and  a pair of jeans.  Slipping her bare feet into a pair of flops, she scooted out of the bedroom with barely a backward glance at Hunter still lying in bed.

Listening intently, he heard her go back into her office to retrieve something before scurrying back out and leaving the house.  Once he heard her car start up and pull out of the driveway, Hunter got up. 

~<>~ 

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Nan walked into the Green Valley Café, looking around for the person she was supposed to meet.  It only took a minute before she spotted him.  With a smile, she waved, walked over to his table, and sat down. 

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.  You didn't have to, and I really appreciate that you did."

"I have to admit, you definitely peaked my curiosity," he said with a narrowed gaze.

A waiter came by and she asked for an amaretto latté, before turning back to him.  She sighed.  "I know you've got no reason whatsoever to listen to me.  But, considering what we have in common, I'm glad you're at least giving me a chance."

"Like I said, you've got my attention.  So talk."

The waiter came back by with her latté, and she waited until he'd gone before facing those distrustful and scrutinizing blue eyes.  She reached into her purse and pulled out a picture, sliding it across the table towards him.

"Recognize this man?"

He picked it up and examined the old photograph carefully, studying the very obvious Native American man and the carrot-topped little girl on his hip.  His eyes narrowed momentarily before his face lit up in a surprised smile.  "Yeah!  Talk about old home week!  That's…that's ah….oh, damn," he said, snapping his fingers, trying to remember the man's name.

"My grandfather and me in 1975.  Back when he managed The Coliseum."

He looked up at her startled, his mouth dropping open.  "You're…Holy Christ.  You're James Elliott's granddaughter.  What was that he used to call you?"

"Wadulisi.  It's Cherokee.  Means 'honey,' or 'honeybee.'  Something like that."

He laughed.  "Yeah, that's it.  I…my God.  I never knew that was you."  He swallowed hard, evidently remembering something else from back then.  "Nan, I'm sorry….I…"

"No."  She held up a hand.  "No.  I'm the one that owes you an apology, Ric." 

~<>~ 

Not bothering to dress, he went into her office to see what she'd gone back in for.  Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the wrestling scrapbook she'd gotten from her parents, lying open on her desk.  A couple of pictures were missing from the first few pages.  He'd not looked at the book since she got it, so he had no idea which ones were missing, or even if those where what she'd taken.  Either way, he wasn't going to pass up an ideal opportunity like this.

Skipping all of the photographs pressed flat under the clear plastic, he flipped right to the back where she'd shoved all of the loose pictures.  It took a few minutes to find what he was looking for, because none of the loose pictures were in any type of order. 

But find it he did.  In a brown envelope addressed to her parent's address.  No name.  Just the address.  With a lump in his throat and a cold ball of fury forming in his gut, he slid the other pictures out of the envelope.  All three were stamped with the same date as the one he'd found, February 4, 2002.  And all three were every bit as bad as the other one.

Hunter put his head in his hands, feeling like his world was crumbling down around his ears once again.  He'd wanted to find them.  He'd wanted to know.

And now he wished to hell he'd never seen the damn scrapbook. 

~<>~ 

Nan came back home, about an hour later, feeling much lighter of heart.  She and Ric had gotten some things straightened out between them.  While she wouldn't say they were friends now, at least she could say they better understood one another.  She wasn't sure that they'd ever be friends, but at least they were at a "cease-fire," as Naitch had put it, both of them agreeing to a truce.  For Hunter's sake, if nothing else.

The house was terribly quiet when she came in.  "Hunter?  Hunter, are you in here?"  When no answer came, she figured he'd gone back down to his gym.  She looked into the kitchen, suddenly remembering the state it had been in when she'd left.  Surprisingly, it was spotless.  All of the food she'd prepared had been put away and the dishes washed.  Except for the bread dough…which by now was a complete loss.  Picking it up, she tossed it into the trash with a grin.  She could always make more.

"He's so sweet," she remarked to herself, inordinately pleased that he'd cleaned the kitchen for her.  Whistling a brisk tune, she walked down the hall to her office, kicking off her shoes before sitting down at her desk.

Instantly she noticed the book wasn't open to the page where she'd taken the photo of her grandfather and herself from the album.  It was flipped open to the back with the loose pictures strewn all over it.  Then she saw an open brown envelope with her parents old address on it.  She picked it up and turned it over.  It was empty.

Unexpectedly, a four pictures plopped down over her shoulder, nearly startling Nan out of her skin.  Hunter's voice, raw and dripping with rage growled loudly behind her, "Looking for these?" 

<End>
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