Summary: What happens when a former Extreme Exposé member meets her near-complete opposite? Sparks fly! Also heavy humor featuring three other pairings.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Spencer, Honoria, Amelia, Josh, Marcus, and Tiffany.
Author's Note: When you picture Spence in your mind, picture (personality-wise) a young Frasier or Niles from Frasier, or a young Major Winchester from M*A*S*H*.
The Doctor and the Diva
Chapter One: A Night Out with Uncle Spence
Dr. Dalton Spencer Harrison III, Ph.D., Professor of Naval History specializing in Germany and Japan at Boston College, could do nothing but listen indignantly as his younger sister Amelia told him what he was going to be doing with his niece and nephew the following evening.
"The seats are ringside, Spence, so you'll be right at the barrier. It'll be just like watching it on TV."
Spencer finally managed to find his voice.
"Amelia, surely you jest...if you're even thinking that I would stoop so low as to even set foot inside the arena where such a thing is being held...the very idea is ludicrous!"
His sister's annoyance was evident by the tone of her voice. "Spence, these are ringside seats...you have no idea how much Josh had to go through to get these tickets. He was going to take them, but something came up at work."
"So go yourself!" Spencer was racking his brain for a way to get out of this.
"I wish I could, but I have to work late that night, too."
Spencer was not pleased at all by her answer. "How convenient is this? The both of you have to work late that night! Is that code for 'this is all a ploy so we can have some alone time'?"
The silence from the other end of the phone told Spencer all he needed to know.
"No! Absolutely not! Yes, I'll be glad to take the children out, but NOT where you planned! I'll take them to the new Egyptian exhibit at the local museum...don't children find mummies interesting?"
Amelia's protest was almost immediate. "No way, Spence -"
"My name," her brother ground out, "is 'Spencer'. Not 'Spence', not 'Spencey', and most certainly not 'The S-Man', as your ingrate of a husband seems unable to absorb through the frayed ball of moldy lint in his head that somehow functions in place of a brain."
"Josh is a lot smarter than you give him credit for, Spencer," Amelia snapped. "He just likes kidding around...you've known that since the first time you met him."
"Yes, and I find that an admirable trait of his...one that should be a requirement for all his fellow cardiologists," Spencer quipped.
"You're impossible, Spencer!"
"No, I'm practical, Amelia...I have no interest in sports whatsoever, and I find it repugnant that people whose job consists of them kicking, throwing, or catching a ball and running around a playing field get paid yearly sums that would take me - a summa cum laude Ph.D. graduate of the very university I teach at - ten lifetimes to even come close to!"
A defeated sigh could be heard over the line. "Fine...name your terms, Spencer."
"What?"
"What do you want in exchange for doing this?"
That brought the college professor up short. What would be equal to what she's asking me to do? Let me see...let me see...ah!
Spencer couldn't keep the smugness out of his voice as he replied, "I'll do this for you...if you pay for all of tomorrow night's expenses, and if you'll cover for me at the family reunion in July."
"What do you mean, 'cover for you'?" Amelia inquired. "Aren't you going to be there?"
"What, and listen to another year of Mother saying, 'You remember Spencer...thirty-one years old, has a Ph.D. in Naval History, youngest tenured professor of his subject in the history of Boston College? Oh yes, all very impressive achievements, but he's still grieving for his late wife and so he has no romantic prospects for the future.'? Absolutely not! I'm planning a three-month trip this summer, touring the battlefields of the Pacific War. So, while you and Doctor Giggles are stuck listening to our relatives prattle on about who died since last year, I will be enthralled while touring the bunkers on Tarawa."
Amelia's indignant protest was cut off by Spencer's final sentence.
"Take it or leave it, dear sister."
An reluctant sigh came over the line before Amelia replied.
"Fine...be here around 6:30 tomorrow evening," she bit out.
"Until then, Amelia," Spencer replied, before hanging up the phone and smiling to himself. Yes, things always had a way of working out for the better.
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By 7:30 the following evening, Spencer was ready to pull his hair out. Traffic on the way to the arena had been horrible, and he was already nursing a headache which was sure to get worse once the show started.
On the upside, however, Amelia had handed him one of Josh's credit cards, telling him to use it to buy some souvenirs for the kids. Spencer had no qualms about stopping at a Chevron station on the way to the arena and using the card to put a full tank of gas in his Cadillac as well. As soon as they got inside the arena, Marcus and Tiffany - who were already bouncing off the walls in their excitement - headed for the souvenir tables that had been set up.
"Uncle Spence! Uncle Spence!" ten-year-old Marcus clamored for his uncle's attention. "Can I buy a John Cena hat and t-shirt?"
"Marcus, I have your father's credit card," Spencer grinned. "Of course you can!"
"Wow! Look at those!" Marcus's twin sister Tiffany exclaimed, pointing to exact replicas of the various WWE title belts. These were nothing like the $15 plastic ones seen on Wal-Mart shelves; these were made of the same things the actual belts themselves were. A small sign on the vendor's table offered to engrave one's name on the belt for a small additional fee.
Spencer grinned as he fingered Josh's credit card in his jacket pocket. He'll need a cardiologist of his own when he sees this credit card bill! A shame a chance for nookie with my sister was more important than taking his kids to this like he promised...ah well, such is the price of life!
He led Marcus and Tiffany over to the belt vendor's table.
"One Women's Championship belt and one WWE Championship belt, please," he informed the vendor. "I'd like the name 'Marcus Richards' engraved on the WWE title, and the name 'Tiffany Richards' engraved on the women's title." As the kids screamed with joy, he added, "this will be on Visa."
After purchasing the belts, the trio continued to shop. By the time they were finished, both kids had wardrobes, posters, books, and action figures with playsets for every WWE superstar - or in Tiffany's case, Diva - they liked. Spencer even found a few things for himself, buying a pair of Undertaker sweatpants because he thought the demonic design on the leg looked interesting, a Shawn Michaels shirt with the phrase 'Many are called...but few are chosen' on it, and John Cena and DX hats of his own.
After carting their purchases back out to the car - this was done after Marcus changed into his newly-purchased John Cena gear in a men's restroom stall, and Tiffany put on a Maria Kanellis t-shirt - the trio returned to the arena and found their seats. As they waited for the night's show to begin, a voice came over the arena's address system:
"Good evening to all the WWE fans in the building tonight. Check your seat numbers because have we got a treat for you! If you have the right seat number, you'll receive backstage passes for every member in your party! Five lucky people will receive this prize, so keep those tickets handy!"
Marcus and Tiffany clutched their tickets and waited for the winners to be announced.
"If you're in seat number AD-52, congratulations...you're a winner! That's seat number AD-52, folks!"
The kids' excitement lessened considerably. They were all the way down in Row A...nowhere near the seat that had been called.
"Winner number two...if you're in seat number W-21, congratulations! That's seat number W-21, folks!"
Again, no luck.
"Winner number three...If you're in seat number H-14, congratulations! That's seat number H-14, folks!"
Again, no luck.
"Winner number four...if you're in seat number P-99, congratulations! That's seat number P-99, folks!"
The kids were again disappointed. Spencer shook his head. They were all the way in the front row...there was no way there was gonna be a winner anywhere near their seats.
"And our final pick of the night: if you're in seat number A-25, congratulations...you're a winner! That's seat number A-25, folks! Again, thanks for attending tonight's show, and all of us here hope you have a great time!"
Well, will wonders never cease, Spencer thought to himself. They actually called somebody in the front row. I pity the poor sap who has to actually go backstage and meet the people who put on this farce.
He was brought out of his smug thoughts by screams from Marcus and Tiffany, who were shoving their tickets in his face.
"What? What is it?" he asked, somewhat irritated by his niece and nephew's actions.
"Check the seat number on your ticket, Uncle Spence!" Tiffany shrieked in excitement.
Spencer checked Marcus's ticket: Seat A-24. His stomach dropped to his shoes.
He checked Tiffany's ticket: Seat A-26. His stomach dropped out of his shoes and onto the arena floor.
With a sinking feeling, he reached into his jacket pocket, brought out his own ticket, and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to snatch a moment of inner peace before he faced the inevitable.
He cracked open one eye and glanced down at his ticket: Seat A-25.
His stomach began digging a hole to China. The 'poor sap' in his row was him. He stared straight ahead as though numb with shock while Marcus and Tiffany danced around in excitement at the prospect of getting to meet their favorite superstars.
"Sir?"
Spencer turned to find of one of the arena people addressing him.
"Yes?"
"How many are in your party, sir?"
"Three," Spencer muttered. "Myself and my niece and nephew."
The young man nodded. "I'll come get you when the show's over and take you backstage."
"Couldn't we do it now?" Spencer injected a pleading note into his voice. "I don't want to prolong this ordeal any more than I already have to."
The man shook his head. "All backstage visits happen after the show...sorry, sir."
Spencer glowered at the man as he departed. Oh, goody...another hour so backstage after the show's over. Just how I wanted to end this night.
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By the end of the show, Spencer's minor headache had turned into a gigantic throbbing one, and he was in absolutely no mood to go backstage. But he also knew the kids would be heartbroken if they didn't get to go, so he swallowed his pride and went along.
As they followed the crewmember backstage, a young woman came up to them.
"You're the last group of winners?" When Spencer nodded, she replied, "Is there anything I can get for you while you're back here?"
"How about two Excedrin and a bottle of water?" Spencer quipped, and to his surprise the young woman nodded and rushed off.
Once he'd swallowed the Excedrin, Spencer slowly began to feel better. He obligingly took pictures with his cell phone as the kids posed with their favorite superstars and Divas, and conversed politely -albeit briefly - with a couple of the Divas who approached him. He was pleasantly surprised to find that nearly all of the wrestlers enjoyed meeting their fans and posing for pictures, and that several of Tiffany's favorite Divas that were in attendance that night adored kids. He gladly took pictures of Tiffany posing with Mickie James, Maria Kanellis, and Michelle McCool, all of whom smiled flirtatiously at him, but were disappointed when he didn't appear interested in them at all.
When both kids had met pretty much everybody backstage, Spencer came up behind Marcus who was staring after World Heavyweight Champion John Cena and muttering, "That was so cool...that was so cool..." over and over again.
"Are you two ready to go now?"
Tiffany shook her head. "I still haven't met Kelly Kelly."
Spencer, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, grabbed a passing crewmember.
"Do you know if Kelly Kelly's here tonight?"
The young man nodded. "Ms. Blank's still in the locker room. She should be leaving shortly."
Spencer thanked the crewmember and turned to relay the news to Tiffany, but was cut off by her running past him to someone coming out of a locker room. Marcus followed his sister, and both kids started talking excitedly. Spencer rolled his eyes and followed.
"I take it this is the person you wanted to meet, Tiffany?"
The person turned at the sound of his voice, and Spencer found himself staring into the most beautiful pair of pale green eyes he'd ever seen in his life. For the second time in his life, he was at a loss for words. The first time had been...no, he refused to even think of that. It was too painful.
"Yeah, she is," came his niece's reply before she addressed the Diva beside her. "This is my Uncle Spence."
"Charmed," Spencer replied, shaking the Diva's hand and doing his utmost to recover from his reaction to her.
She was gorgeous...blonde hair that looked like cornsilk and a body that would tempt a saint. She was about the age of some of his students. And completely off-limits, in his way of thinking.
"Likewise," the young woman replied, gracing him with a smile that could stop traffic.
Spencer forced down improper thoughts - in other words, any of a romantic nature - and nodded politely. He took pictures of Kelly with his niece and nephew before the blonde Diva told them goodbye and headed off, leaving his niece smiling widely.
"She's even nicer in person, Uncle Spence!" Tiffany exclaimed, and Spencer nodded.
"Yes, she was very polite. She truly seems to love her fans."
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Spencer's headache was slowly returning as he backed out of his parking space. The kids had asked him to play the RAW 15th Anniversary CD on the drive home; Shawn Michaels' theme song was currently thumping through the sound system, and Spencer's head was throbbing to the exact same beat.
The Cadillac was making its way to the ground floor when Tiffany suddenly shouted from the backseat,
"Uncle Spence, stop! I see Kelly Kelly!"
Spencer was about to reply that they'd already met said Diva, but then he saw the young woman looked somewhat stressed, so he pulled up alongside her and rolled down the passenger side window.
"Everything all right, Ms. Blank?" he inquired.
The young woman flashed him a forced smile. "Yeah...I'm just enjoying the walk back to my hotel since my rental car chose to quit on me."
Spencer unlocked the doors. "Get in...we'll take you."
She seemed surprised for a moment, but then smiled genuinely at him and opened the door.
"Thanks," she replied, and turned to greet the kids in the back before settling back in her seat.
"Nice car," she commented. "Lemme guess...you're a lawyer, right?
"Thank you, and no, I'm not," Spencer replied. "I'm actually a college professor."
"Wow..." Kelly raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know they paid college professors this good."
Spencer shrugged. "The higher your degree, the better your pay. And if you've got tenure, it's even better."
Kelly smiled at him and nodded, but her smile dimmed somewhat when she noticed the streetlight glinting off the wedding band on Spencer's left hand.
"You're married?" Spencer was surprisingly pleased to hear the slight note of disappointment in her voice, and at the same time steeled himself against the stab of pain the question had invoked since that day over two years ago. He sighed deeply before replying softly,
"Widowed."
"Oh..." the young blonde trailed off, now appearing unsure what to say next. She remained quiet for the remainder of the ride, save for giving directions when asked. When Spencer pulled up in front of the hotel, she said goodbye to Tiffany and Marcus, and was about to say goodbye to Spencer when she decided to be spontaneous like usual, and instead leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
"Thanks for the ride...you're a lifesaver," she stated happily as she got out of the car.
Spencer forced down the shock at feeling her soft lips on his cheek and managed to reach over, open the glove box, remove a business card, and hand it to her.
"A souvenir of your time in Boston," he told her, and she laughed before saying goodnight, shutting the door, and heading inside the hotel.
"She was nice, Uncle Spence," Tiffany stated.
"She kissed you!" Marcus exclaimed.
"Indeed," Spencer replied, "and you're to keep that just between us...no telling your parents or grandparents of this, understood?"
He sighed, knowing his niece and nephew were devious enough to want a little incentive to keep this quiet, and cringed at what he was about to say.
"Tiffany, you keep this quiet...and I'll take you to that Hannah Montana concert you're dying to go see next month." {Author's Note: I have no idea if ten-year-old girls like Hannah Montana or not...if they don't, sue me.}
He cringed at the excited high-pitched scream that reverberated through the car.
"What about me, Uncle Spence?" Marcus - no big fan of Hannah Montana - wanted to know.
Spencer racked his brain, trying to come up with something suitable. Some Power Ranger toys? No, he's got enough of those to build a small army with. What would all his friends be extremely jealous of? Ah-ha!
"Marcus, you keep this quiet and the weekend your sister gets to see Hannah Montana, on the way home from the concert, we'll pull into an empty parking lot at the mall and I'll let you drive this car for ten minutes."
"SWEET! You've got a deal, Uncle Spence!" Marcus shouted.
As the kids talked excitedly about the deal they'd just made with their uncle, Spencer attempted to turn his attention back to his driving, but his mind kept bringing up the peck on the cheek he'd received from a very beautiful young woman.
'Young' is right, Spencer thought. I have students who are older than her. He shook his head to clear his mind, but then visions of sparkling green eyes floated up to him, and he chuckled softly.
"Are you trying to tell me something here, Honoria?" he murmured, talking - as he often did - to his late wife.
Apparently she was, for he couldn't help but smile as the next track on the CD began playing:
Holla...holla.
So all my girls in the club say 'ooh', 'cause you know just how we do...
R&R, please!