Title- Fearless, Reckless Pursuit
Author- pepsicolagurl
Rating- PG13 for now, but it could change because of language issues (I curse a lot).
Disclaimer- I don't own anything but original characters. I'm not making any money off of this, but I am open to donations. Just address the cheque to me, and leave the amount blank.
Author's Notes- Well, this is my first wrestling fiction. I have no idea where the idea came from, but it wouldn't leave me alone, so this is what came about. The title, and lyrics that head each chapter are taken from the Amanda Marshall song, The Gypsy, from the album, Everybody's Got A Story. Everyone else, enjoy and let me know what you think.
Fearless, Reckless Pursuit
Chapter One
The finest tapestry takes patience and the ability to wait
For each thread to support the bigger picture and the larger purpose
And in the fearless, reckless pursuit of intimate love
It is not the destination, it's the journey
As they walked off the plane, hand in hand, she couldn't believe what she was doing. Oh, there was some rationale behind it, of course. Her daughter deserved to know her father, but she shouldn't have to be the one to make sure that it happened. He had just as much free will as she did, but when her daughter had handed her the phone to talk to her ex-husband, and she had seen the trace of moisture in her eyes and the tremble in her lips, she couldn't help but say yes. He was the one that offered to pay for the airfare, and the hotel room, even giving her his credit card information, but that didn't mean that she was happy about it.
The frown was firmly settled on her face as she led her daughter towards baggage claim, dodging people as they went. Her daughter, on the other hand, was more than content to look around at all the other people rushing about, talking, laughing, and arguing. "Mommy," she asked, tugging at the hand that held her own captive. "Are we in New York yet?" she asked, looking up as the woman's face came down to look at her.
She forced a smile, and nodded. "Yes, we're here, honey."
"Where's Daddy?"
"He's meeting us at the hotel," she explained, before looking towards the luggage spinning around. They had waited until the last moment to get off the plane, knowing that her little girl wouldn't have been able to deal with the pushing and gentle shoving that occurred whenever it was time to de-plane. Their luggage was already waiting for them, and she instructed her daughter to hold onto the strap of her carry-on bag, as she hauled their two bags off of the carousel. That task completed, she led her daughter outside to choose one of the many taxis waiting. She allowed her daughter to pick out which one she wanted, and helped the driver load their bags into the trunk before slipping into the back seat.
After she gave the name of the hotel that they would be staying at, she turned to watch her daughter press herself against the window, gaping at all the buildings and people that they passed. It was her first trip away from home, and the first time in almost half a year that she was going to see her father. The woman knew that the excitement mixed with the early morning wake up was going to make her daughter fall asleep rather early that evening. If nothing else, she was going to get a good night's sleep.
The ride was quiet and uneventful as they pulled up to the front of the hotel. The taxi driver came out to help them remove their bags, and left them near the door of the hotel before she paid him, throwing in an extra five dollars for the tip. He smiled his thanks, winked at the little girl and left them. "Are we going to see Daddy now?" her daughter asked, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"We're going to see Daddy now," she responded quietly, looking through the glass doors into the lobby of the hotel. He was already waiting for them, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed against his chest, the same way he looked every time she kept him waiting whenever they went out for dinner or a movie. His head was bowed slightly, listening to what someone else was saying to him, a small smile on his face. She knew that the moment he saw her, his ex-wife, that smile was going to die away, like it always did.
She took a deep breath and opened the door, allowing her daughter to run in, bringing in the luggage with her. The high pitched chant of "Daddy!" rang throughout the quiet lobby, and his head turned to look at the six year old running up to him, a mile-wide grin on her face. He dipped down somewhat and caught her before she crashed into his legs, hoisting her up so that she was sitting on his hip. "You're getting too heavy to be picked up," he complained good-naturedly, accepting the kiss that she dropped on his lips. Her head dropped down onto his shoulder automatically as he shifted her weight somewhat, turning to look at the woman standing there. "Hi, Andrea," he said in a more subdued tone.
"Jason," she returned, just as quietly, before turning to the person standing beside them. She smiled suddenly, nudging the blonde man. "I almost didn't recognize you, Chris. It's been awhile."
Chris Irvine grinned before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "Well, I had to come down and see you when you came in. It's been a year or so since the last time I saw you, and that was only for a minute or two." She kept her eyes on him, the same wry twist of her lips dancing on her face. "I came to say hello to my namesake?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle the little girl's hair as she giggled, waving hello to the man. "Okay, fine, I came down to see if I could pump your daughter full of sugar and then send her back to Jay. You know, the usual."
She laughed softly. "That's better. You never were good at lying, Chris." She turned to look at Jason Reso, her eyes meeting those of her ex-husband. "I'll take her to go get washed up. You can have her after that," she told him, her tone turning a lot more formal. His eyes narrowed slightly when he heard the familiar cutting slight British accent, before lowering his daughter back down to the ground.
He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, slipping a card out of it. "I already checked you in. I'm surprised they let me," he added, passing her the card. "I guess since we have the same name and all..." He let the words die off when he saw the stubborn look on her face. "Andrea, don't start this. Not now, not in front of Christina," he ground out quietly, after he noticed that his daughter was preoccupied with the other man. "Just take the damned key card and go up to your room. I'll pick her up in twenty minutes."
Matching his nod, she brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and turned back to Chris. "I have to take her upstairs. You can have your play time later," she teased, becoming visibly more relaxed when she had turned away from her ex-husband. "Unless, of course, you want to help me with the luggage."
"I'm offended that you think I wouldn't," he told her, before taking the handle of one of the bags, and Christina's hand in his other. He led them over to the elevator, shooting his friend a look over his shoulder, before turning back to the woman. "You okay?" he asked softly, taking in the way that her eyes remained forward. It took him a moment to realize that she was looking at Jay's reflection in one of the decorative mirrors in the lobby.
"I'm fine," she whispered, as the doors to the elevator opened. Chris led them in, before selecting the third floor for them. "You're staying here, too?"
He nodded. "Yeah, up on the sixth floor. Jay's staying up there, too. He thought it might be better if you two were on separate floors. He was originally going to get you two a room with a connecting door to his room, but...I kind of talked him out of it." She nodded slowly at his words, as the doors slid open and he led them to the right door. He waited until they had walked in and closed the door behind them before speaking again. "Is it hard? You know, seeing him again?"
"Christie, go wash up. Your dad will be here soon to pick you up." She watched as her daughter ran off to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "It's hard not to see him. I didn't mean that the way you thought I did, Chris. I meant-"
"That when you don't see him, that means that Christina doesn't see him. I understand that, but I want to know whether it's hard for you, yourself, to see him."
She turned her back to him, her short brown hair hanging in her face as she opened the carry-on bag and dug through to find a brush. "I'd rather that he came to see her, rather than having me take time off of work so that I can cart her around North America whenever he has the desire to see her. And those moments that he wants to see her are few and far between," she ground out, her accent becoming more prominent and clipped as she spoke. "He thinks that I can just call in to work and say that I need a few days off, because my ex-husband is in New York and wants to see his daughter. He had time off last week. Why the hell couldn't he come down to Ontario and see her. It would have cost me a lot less money."
With a sigh, he walked over to her and placed his large hand on her back, between her shoulder blades. "Well, Jay's paying for this, isn't he?"
"But I still had to take a four days off from work. I can't afford to do that. Yes, Jay sends me money every month. He sends me the exact amount that the judge said he had to. But that doesn't cover everything. What with rent and all the other bills, plus her uniform because he insists that she goes to that damned private school, I barely have enough to make it through the month. This little vacation isn't helping." She turned her head to look at him, a small smile growing on her face. "But you should have seen the look on her face when she was on the phone with him. He knew what he was doing when he asked her before asking me. I couldn't say no after that."
They both straightened up when the bathroom door was opened again, Christina bouncing out with her hands and face freshly scrubbed clean. Her mother sat down and motioned for her to sit between her legs, before taking the messy ponytail out of her hair and brushing it out. "So, after Daddy and Daughter Day starts, do you want to go grab a cup of coffee with me?" he asked the woman, winking at the little girl when she winced at the pull on her hair.
"I've got nothing better to do," she mumbled around the hair ties in her mouth, dark brown eyes sparkling at him. She quickly made the girl's shining blonde hair into two braided pigtails, watching as she ran off to answer the knock at the door. It took her using both hands to turn the knob, and Jay pushed the door open with his hand when he saw her struggling.
"You ready to go, munchkin?" he asked her, before flicking his eyes up towards the woman. She stared back at him, her shoulders tensing as she readied herself for whatever he was going to say next. It was a common stance that she took whenever she spoke to him, considering the fact that their conversations more often than not escalated into shouting matches. "I thought I'd take her out for dinner tonight, but we should be back around eight," he offered.
She blinked in surprise at the friendly tone, before realizing what game he was playing. Their one rule was that they never fought in front of Christina. She rarely saw her two parents together, and when she did, they didn't want her to be uncomfortable. "That's fine, Jason. Just bring her back here around then. Her bedtime is earlier than normal tonight."
He nodded. "Sounds good," he told her, before dipping his head to look at his daughter. "Say goodbye to Mommy and Uncle Chris before we go."
Christina stopped her impatient pulling on his hand before twisting to look in the room. "Bye, Mommy. Bye, Uncle Chris. All right, Daddy, let's go," she cried, trying to pull him along. He chuckled before letting the door swing shut.
The two occupants of the room remained silent for a moment, before Chris finally spoke. "Well, what do you say? Coffee, maybe a piece of cake...I'll even buy you some ice cream."
A small smile curved her lips as she stood up, reaching for her purse. "Oh, you mean, you're going to pump me full of sugar and send me back to Jason?"
The man shuddered as he opened the door for her, leading her out. "I would never do anything like that. I wouldn't want to be the one to see what was left of Jay when you were through with him, either. You know, sometimes, Andrea, you scare me. The way that you can turn one of Jay's good moods into a bad one is frightening all on its own, but you, my dear, are a truly scary person."
She grinned as they waited for the elevator. "It's the dry British humor, isn't it?"
He shook his head. "Nah, you've lived in Canada long enough that you've adopted just plain old sarcasm. I think it's just you."
Reaching out, Andrea Reso swung her hand into his stomach, listening to his grunt with a satisfied smile. "Come on, now you owe me more than coffee for that comment."
