"So is he or not?" Shawn snapped to Hunter as they headed towards the arena for TV tapings. Hunter threw his hands up momentarily from the wheel, shaking his head. Bret Hart had become too popular of a topic of conversation for Shawn's liking, but it was almost as if he couldn't stop himself from talking about it.

"We won't know for sure until we see him show up, Shawn, no matter what any dirtsheet says."

"Well, what'd Nash and Hall say?"

"Bischoff's been negotiating with him too, but Bret keeps going back and forth. Playing both of 'em, trying to get a better offer from both like he's some kind of prize. Nash said Bischoff offered something like $2.2 first, but then raised the deal. It's closer to $3 million now, for three to four years." Shawn's head nearly exploded.

"What?" Hunter parked the car, still shaking his head in annoyance.

"That's what he said. But Bret didn't accept that. So he either hasn't made a deal yet with either, or Vince outbid that."

"What the fucking hell. More than $3 million?"

"It's ridiculous." Hunter muttered in agreement; he was nowhere close to even dreaming of that amount of money, and neither was Shawn. "It's getting thick, man; if WCW got their hands on Bret, or anyone else from over here, we're gonna be dead in the water real soon."

"I know it, brother." Shawn muttered, though the thought of Bret making such a great amount of money still had him fuming. "Motherfucker, I'll be damned…" He shook his head; Hunter sat silently beside him. The two of them, despite being as close as could be, had never discussed their salaries or any details of their contracts, unlike both Nash and Hall who had bragged freely to anyone and everyone about their new salaries. It wasn't that Shawn didn't want Hunter to know, but in reality, he had always felt ashamed, almost, of only making what he did, especially when he heard of Nash and Hall's new deals making considerably more than him, when he was the champion of the WWF. Especially now, knowing he only made what he did, and Bret would be making figures that blew his out of the water. And Shawn was the champion. The unavoidable fact made him realize even more so now just how little days as champion he had left.

In his irritation, he threw the door open roughly and shoved out of the car, Hunter following his lead, but at his own pace. Shawn didn't wait for him as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the arena.

"Where are you going?" Hunter called out from behind him, and Shawn almost didn't give him an answer.

"Take a fucking guess." He snapped over his shoulder, not caring if Hunter heard or if he was even following close behind. The sound of him sighing, however, let Shawn know he was at his heels.

"I thought you were just hiding from her the other day?" Hunter reminded him lowly as he sped up to match his pace. Shawn gritted his teeth.

"That was last week, now, it's a new week." He explained, purposefully allowing a condescending tone to color his words.

"You know what she's going to ask you, it's not like it's going to change." Shawn hated it when Hunter sounded logical, which was all the time.

"Yeah, and she can fucking wait and swallow the fact that I don't want to be tied down at 31, for fuck's sake. No way in hell I'm marrying anyone right now or anytime soon."

"So why are you going to her?"

"Because, Hunter!" Shawn snapped, stopping his quick pace to face Hunter, slapping his thigh. "I'm fucking pissed and all I want to do is fuck someone, is that okay with you?" Hunter stared back at him, not fazed in the slightest. He never was, nothing ever got to him.

"I'm just trying to look after ya, man. I want the best for ya." Shawn knew it. Hunter was his best friend, all he ever did was look out for Shawn.

"I do too, but I know what I'm doing, alright?" Hunter said nothing and they continued walking in silence until they headed their separate ways.

"I can't believe you just bought more overalls, don't you have enough?" Sunny asked as they headed to the women's locker room together. The lively woman had come to retrieve early that morning before the house show that evening to do some shopping, as promised. Hannah was given a million beauty and fashion tips for free.

Hannah shrugged. "Well, it's like you were saying. I want to be a little different than the rest of you…and they're comfy!" Sunny was already slipping out of her clothes to just her bra and panties to get ready for the show. Hannah looked around the empty locker room. "Where are the other girls?"

"Oh, I'm usually the only girl that works these house shows, I'm guessing Vince wanted you to get used to working and all that, and that's why you're here." Sunny began the process of putting on her makeup for the evening.

"It must have been odd, being the only woman here for so long." Hannah spoke up as she approached the mirrors, standing behind Sunny's image. Her eyes flickered over to Hannah in the mirror.

"God." She said before turning to face Hannah completely. "I've been here for a while, but I still feel like that same new girl. I guess, technically, that's you now." She turned away again to continue with her makeup. "But no, I've never felt odd. I think I fit right in, I think I'm more man than woman, but I guess I'm just enough." She giggled with the mascara wand in her hand.

"Hey, Sunny?"

"Hm, babe?" Hannah turned the chair around and straddled it, leaning her chin on her clasped hands.

"Didn't you ever…want to be in the ring yourself?" Sunny snorted, pausing to look at her.

"Ha! Are you kidding? No way, the only time I belong in that ring is shaking and strutting my stuff. I am perfectly satisfied from the sidelines, and you know, it isn't a bad place to be. You've got to understand your own power, trust me. If Vince likes you, soon those doors will be opening and you'll be doing so much more, even just as a valet." She gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll see." She said, tapping Hannah's nose.

"Yeah. I guess so." Hannah stood, digging through her bag to pick out an outfit for the night, putting other thoughts out of her head.

"Oh, shoot." Sunny suddenly said, stopping and turning to Hannah suddenly. "I forgot to mention, on these house show nights, Shawn and I usually hang out in here so…sorry! I'm gonna be kicking you out." Hannah only stared back, mildly panicking; she had been counting on using the women's locker room as a shelter to hide away from Paul. Or Hunter—whatever he was called now. She sighed, but smiled understandingly.

"That's okay," she mumbled. It isn't as if she wanted to be near Shawn again anyways. "I suppose I'll shower and get ready so I can get out of the way." Sunny beamed at her, and Hannah got to work on trying to figure out exactly where she was going to hide now.

Absently, as Shawn headed towards the women's dressing room, he still couldn't keep Bret from his mind. He wondered just how much Hannah knew, or if she knew anything. The only person who likely knew anything would be Owen, but he would never tell his brother's business. He huffed in frustration, hating how the thoughts were nearly eating him alive.

He let himself into the room without hesitation; tonight was just a house show, and Sunny was the only woman who ever worked them. Walking in, he couldn't find Sunny, but he could hear the steady stream of shower water coming from the showers. A soft voice was humming a song, and he finally allowed the lines of tension in his forehead to soften and a smirk grow on his lips. Just as he began to entertain the thought of stripping down himself and joining her, the water cut off. Shawn made sure he was hidden behind the jutting wall, and he grabbed hold of the hanging dry towel, a tight grip.

The hum had transitioned now to a full voice, singing unabashedly, and she sounded awful.

"Any man of mine, better walk the line! Better show me a teasin', squeezin', pleasin' kinda time." Shawn found himself trying hard not to laugh, before realizing a second before she appeared—in all of her glory, unrestricted and painted in different golds, from her gleaming skin to her dripping hair—this voice wasn't Sunny's.

She paused, her back to Shawn as she reached for the towel, only for the towel not to come at her tug. His hand was still holding it in place. Her head turned in the direction of the towel and him, and he noticed the frown on her face first, his eyes traveling down to her plump lips that formed a gasp, and then he couldn't look anymore due to being blinded by a wild punch to his face.

"What are you doing in here?" She yelled, her voice vibrating. Shawn shook his head and laughed as he turned back towards the woman, now covered with the towel and indignantly staring at him expectantly, knees bent and arms tight against her chest. He laughed again. "Why are you laughing? Do you think this is funny? This is not a laughing matter!" She hadn't stopped yelling and if he were any closer he imagined she would punch him again. Or try to, anyways.

He couldn't even relish the sight he had just seen, what his ears had just heard, he was still too amazed to do anything but laugh. "You'd be laughing too if someone hit you with a punch that bad. That was the worst punch I've ever been hit with, and I've been on the receiving end for a quite a few."

"Your nose is bleeding." Hannah retorted indignantly and he wiped his forearm across his face.

"Yeah, and I wouldn't be surprised if your thumb is broken. Is your wrist sprained?" He eyed her right hand, the way it was held more gingerly than the other, and she shifted her weight, letting that arm fall to her side as if it didn't bother her.

"You shouldn't be in here, Sunny isn't in here." She explained in a rush, her eyes big and desperate. "She already told me you two use the locker room…" He wasn't expecting the wave of shame that hit him. "She left looking for you. I was just trying to shower before you came."

Shawn tried his best not to appear defensive as he shrugged it off.

"I'd be lying if I said I'm disappointed to see you instead." Hannah swallowed, a delicate blush coloring her cheeks before she shook her head vehemently.

"Look, Shawn…please" She winced; she had tried to wrap her towel tighter around herself using her hurt hand. "I just, really think it'd be best if you left."

"Hurts, huh?" He asked her, watching her lightly roll her wrist. She pressed on with a sternly desperate face.

"No, it's fine." Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Can't you just leave?" She practically begged now, almost stomping her foot. "Really, if Sunny barged in right now…" her breath caught in her throat as she looked him up and down. "I mean, if she saw us in here it would look bad. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Shawn shrugged uncaringly. "It's not like Sunny and I are dating."

"Really?" She shot back, unconvinced. "Because she said you two have been together for nearly a year. As a matter of fact, she said you were the one." He snorted.

"Well, is that so? Listen, I do what I want, I call the shots. But, if you want me to leave, I'll leave, sweetheart." He turned on his heel, the bitter feeling of rejection creeping up on him again, just like the first time they had interacted. It was a sensation that felt too strong, since he had gotten used to its absence ever since he had found fame, and stung more now when this Hannah was involved.

"I have a name, you know, and it's not sweetheart." Shawn paused, smirking where he stood with his back to her.

"You know, you have a temper and tongue, I'll give you that. It's not a big one, but it's there. I seem to bring it out in ya too, don't I?" She blinked her eyes at him, now frowning and taking a step back to lean against the wall.

"I—I'm not trying to make enemies here. I just," she raised her chin. "I have a name. It's Hannah Hart." She said her name in pride, the way he tacked on WWF champion as if it were his last name. He chuckled a little at her smile, like the goody two shoes in a classroom.

"Right. Is that why they hired ya, or is it just because of the obvious?" Her smile crumbled.

"Excuse me?" She demanded. "The obvious?" Shawn shrugged, looking over his shoulder.

"Well, as Hunter put it, just another blonde with boobs." Her mouth was fully agape after he spoke and he turned to head out the door. Outside in the hallway, he stood for a moment, realizing he didn't quite feel right even though he had been determined to get the last laugh. He gave out sharp comments left and right uncaringly, without a second thought, but the look of Hannah's hurt face was a lasting image in his head. He turned back and grabbed the door handle, only to start at a voice behind him.

"Shawn!" It was Sunny's shrill voice behind him, her heeled boots clicking on the ground as she hurried towards him. He turned, fixing a faux smile on his lips.

"I was just looking for you." He quickly said as she came up to him, smiling smugly at his words.

"I bet." She said, quickly attacking his lips with hers. "Do you like my dress? I went shopping today with Hannah. She's a little sweetheart," Sunny giggled a little. "You've met her, right?"

"Oh yeah, she's somethin' alright."

"Well, don't you be getting any ideas, buddy. I know she's a pretty little thing, but I like to think I'm prettier." She winked. "Of course, I'm not surprised that she's here. Bret talked about her a lot." Shawn raised his eyebrows; he must have missed those conversations. "He said Hannah was the only one in his family who didn't have to fall back on wrestling like the rest of them, that she was the one that was gonna turn out right." Sunny shrugged. "Guess not, but. Anyways, you remember the big deal they made about her during your Iron Man match." Shawn frowned now, staring down at Sunny.

"What do you mean?" Sunny smirked, kissing his lips. He pulled away impatiently.

"Of course, I'm the only blonde running around in your head." She giggled, and Shawn did his best not to snap out of impatience. "Vince and everyone made a big deal when the camera guy got a shot of her crying ringside during the match. And then again backstage—she was the first one Bret went to. It was cute to be fair." The door opened behind them, and Sunny made a hush face when Hannah came out.

Tonight, she was dressed in white overalls, shorter than the ones she had on the last time he had seen her, and almost in contrast, a pink sweater. Hannah didn't even look at him as she shook out her wet hair.

That's when he remembered the beautiful blonde he had seen sitting ringside, just like Sunny had described. After he won, he had walked over and shook Stu's hand, along with Bret's youngest son. And next to him was a blonde so beautiful he had assumed she must have been distantly related to the Harts. That's where he had seen her before. Her beauty then had been just as striking as it was now.

How could he have forgotten about the girl from WrestleMania?

"See ya later, Sunny." Hannah said to the blonde beside him, who beamed as she pulled Shawn closer to her. And then it hit him; this was why. It wasn't long after that title win he began to feel the pressure suffocating him, almost like Sunny's arms were now. He had ventured down that path, the path of angry solitude, and never looked back.

"See you, babe!" Sunny called, too close to his ear. Hannah smiled and continued walking, ignoring his presence too easily for his liking. The unsettledness he felt from before only worsened.

"Don't I get a hello?" He blurted out after her retreating figure, and she slowed her walk as she looked over her shoulder, a hint of disdain as she spoke insincerely.

"Hi, champ. Always a pleasure to see you."

"I have a name, you know." He smirked. Her returning smirk was more like a mocking scowl and he could see her shaking her head before she turned away, almost too quickly. Sunny used her pointer figure to guide his lingering gaze back to hers.

"Anyways, baby, you wanna know what I have planned for next week?" Her tone grew shriller, and he knew right away she wanted something—he'd bet his life that he knew what it was and struggled to keep himself from sighing, to keep his hands on her, to not frown in annoyance.

"Mmhm." He replied half-heartedly.

"Well, I took it upon myself to book us a reservation at the nicest steakhouse in town. It's a very nice place for new beginnings, and celebrations. How does that sound?"

"Peachy, now, I gotta go get ready for my match." He said, dropping his arms from her.

"But the locker room just opened." She said in a tone dripping with temptation and wriggling her hips. She attacked his lips again and he pulled back quickly.

"I'll be back later." He lied, stepping around her to head to the locker room with no intent of keeping his word. On his way he shed his annoyance, knowing he could figure out a way to ditch the date as well, when that day came.

Hannah left the scene behind her, but the anger and hurt of Shawn's words stuck around.

She and Hunter went way back. If he thought that about her, did everyone else? For a moment, the thought made her skin prickle. Did the rest of the men think that about Sunny? About Sable and Marlena too? Her stomach almost churned, and the first thing that popped into her head was the clipart that was always on the women's locker room door. It made her stop walking completely for a moment.

Only for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes and set off to find the men's locker room, walking now with a determined purpose rather that lost like before.

She finally found it down a main hallway, and the sight of Owen just outside of it filled her with such a relief she realized maybe Owen was who she was wanting to see after-all. But not just yet.

"Woah—where's the fire?" He asked, frowning and trying to stop her as she marched past him to the door. He grabbed her arm and hung onto it, following her in confusion as she inspected the door. All it said was MEN'S LOCKER ROOM in thick bold font. She snorted. "Hannah, what are you doing? What's wrong?" Owen pulled her out of the way just as Vader came ambling out.

"I just wanted to see what kind of fancy little picture was on the door." She said, her arms crossing. Owen frowned.

"What?" She sighed. "Joey, I know this face of yours."

"You ever notice any difference between the labels on the men's locker room and the women's?" Owen only looked perplexed.

"I'm not usually near the women's dressing room—Joey, c'mon, what's this about?"

"There's a picture. It's just, heels and a hat—not even just a hat, a feathered one—and a boa. But there's nothing on the men's." He was frowning and silent, and she sighed again, shrugging and feeling her shoulders slump. "I…just…the women here. I don't think the guys think too highly of them. I don't think anyone thinks highly of us at all, actually."

"Who told you that? Is there a guy around here picking on you?" Hannah shook her head quickly, and Owen didn't exactly look convinced.

"I'm talking just, generally, you know? And then, if the guys back here think low of me, what about the fans?" Owen now shook his head, raising a hand.

"Hannah, stop. Do you remember that little snot-nosed boy who kept throwing sand at you in grade school? Remember how I taught you a few holds and told you to tell him you're a Hart when he started crying?" Hannah giggled a little, and Owen smiled. "Nothing's changed. You're still the same, and if someone isn't showing you the respect you deserve, you need to remind them of who you are."

"So, you're saying I should put people in a chokehold. Because that worked so well the first time." She said, lighthearted now with Owen. There was no way she could go any more in depth on the subject, but at least Owen lifted her spirits. As he always did.

"You won't get detention now. If you tell me who's messing with you, I'll make 'em scream uncle." Owen pounding his fist together, and Hannah laughed. "And then, Davey will beat 'em to a pulp. And then you can come in and finish them off with a wham!" He grabbed her hand, trying to get a high five, but she winced. He frowned at her as she rolled her wrist out.

"I slipped in the shower." She lied, frowning as she remembered Shawn, and then Hunter, all over again. Owen raised an eyebrow.

"You were trying to moonwalk again, weren't you?" She chuckled, but the light moment from before was gone.

"Really, O, it's no one. I guess I'm just a little frustrated." He nodded slowly before his face lit up.

"Hey! I got an idea." He glanced behind him, before leaning in closer, trying to be inconspicuous. "Wanna help me pull a rib on Goldust?" She chuckled.

"I'd rather be a bystander than an accomplice." Owen smiled, nodding with his eyes narrowed.

"Touché. Probably for the better. Keep your eyes peeled, then. Davey and I are on second to last, so we'll be out later."

Hannah chuckled as he disappeared back into the locker room, still looking around behind his shoulders. As much as she appreciated the effort, tonight it was moot.

As she stood, rolling out her wrist, someone tapped her back and she turned, only to come face to, well, chest, of Hunter himself.

Hannah always imagined that when this moment came, she would be nervous. Maybe she would feel happy, but after Shawn's words, she felt none of that.

Neither of them spoke, and Hunter looked her up and down.

"…I didn't take you for much of a valet." He was always a straight-shooter. Hannah glared at him.

"Yeah, well, I didn't take you for an asshole." Hunter frowned, looking completely caught off guard.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He demanded defensively. She only rolled her eyes, still feeling the sting of Shawn's statement.

"You know, I thought we were friends, Paul." She retorted, trying to walk away only for him to grab her arm.

"Woah, woah, let me stop you there. I thought we were friends too. And friends don't lie about their identities, Hannah Hart." Hannah grew defensive; she was a mix of emotions, something between hurt and betrayed.

"Friends also don't label their friends as 'another blonde with boobs' either. Is that what you really thought of me all along?" The lines on Hunter's face straightened out immediately as she snatched her arm out of his grip.

"Hannah, no—wait!" She kept walking, not really knowing where she was going. "Hannah!" It was almost hard to ignore him, almost. Maybe Paul had changed; she wouldn't be shocked if he really was hanging around Shawn all the time. She scoffed to herself, stopping her walk and letting out a long sigh. She was barely getting started and already, she felt so overwhelmed. So conflicted, so lost.

"Ah, Hannah! Just who I was hoping to see!" Hannah turned with a confused frown at the sight of Vince, who really did appear relieved to see her. He smiled warmly at her. "Do you have a minute?"

At the locker room, Shawn shoved his way uncaringly into the locker room, passing Owen and Davey on their way out.

"You don't think he'll think it was you?"

"C'mon, Davey, it could've been anyone in here. Plus, we're leaving now, he won't even suspect us. We need to stop by the trainer's room to grab ice for Han too."

"Right. Hey, wait, how'd she hurt her wrist?"

"She said she slipped in the shower and caught herself." Owen was explaining and Shawn chuckled a little, but felt guilty immediately after. Davey shook his head.

Davey shook his head. "Women, they're just so fragile, mate. Imagine her in a ring."

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot smarter with your mouth shut?"

"Is it the glasses? They're new, I don't know if I like them but without them sometimes I can't read…" Shawn realized he wasn't the only one watching Owen and Davey leave the room. Hush-hush conversation started as soon as they disappeared.

"Is Bret coming back tonight?"

"Don't be an idiot; it's a house show and it's almost over, ya dope. He ain't coming back tonight."

"He ain't coming back, period. WCW's offering him a boatload."

"Bret's loyal. He's not leaving for no amount of money, he ain't no sell-out." Shawn whipped his head around to look at the jobber, the only kind of friends Bret seemed to attract, who was watching Shawn wide-eyed, as if he realized only too late what had been said.

"…You gotta think realistically; Bret's gotta family. He's thinking about them, just like Nash and Hall." Another wrestler quickly spoke up. Shawn snorted to himself and shook his head in disbelief; Bret was thinking about himself, the mark, just like always.

"Bret's got a family here too. He ain't just gonna leave Owen and Davey here."

"His little sister now too. What's her name?"

"Hannah. Sweet, sweet, baby Hart. She's like…she's like…you know when you're out walking and then you see some grass? The nicest most inviting strip of grass you've ever seen, but there's a sign right outside of it, and it says 'KEEP OFF'? She's like that."

"You idiot, you're not even making sense. She's got a sign alright, and his name is Bret. He'd have you screaming if he heard you talking right now."

"And he ain't, is he?"

Every man in the room was voicing their personal opinions, and it seemed like there were a lot of them. Shawn didn't pick out individual voices or care to put faces to them, but he heard them all, and they all pissed him off.

"Too bad she can't wrestle."

"Well, I can teach her a hold or two." Half the room laughed, the other half let out sounds of disagreements.

"Man, keep your trap shut. That's Stu Hart's daughter."

"Bet I could fuck her." Another voice spoke up, and more laughs sounded.

"Bet you couldn't, crusty ass." The boys laughed again, Shawn turned back around to look at all of them, their unimpressive selves.

"I'll bet you my next paycheck I can land her." This was one of the Smoking Gunns, so adamant, so confident, and Shawn realized out of all of the lousy load, he was the one with the best chance, though still pathetic.

"Oh yeah? I bet you I could land Sunny!" His partner added, and Shawn listened as the entire room laughed, his eyes flickering around at them and their conversation.

"You already have!" His partner laughed, and they shared a high-five.

"Well damn, who hasn't?" All the men were back to laughing together again, and Shawn glared, frowning to himself as conversation drifted back to Bret. He stood that way until someone grabbed his shoulder roughly.

"What the hell are you doing, man?" It was Hunter, and he was angry in contrast to his calm state earlier.

"What?" Shawn retorted, shrugging his shoulder away from his touch.

"Why did you tell Hannah I said she was just 'another blonde with boobs'?" Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Because that is what you said."

"That was before I knew you were talking about Hannah! She's pissed off now at me because of what you told her!" Hunter followed hot at his heels as Shawn walked out of the locker room.

"Oh, cry me a river! That is what you said, isn't it?" Shawn stared at him accusingly. "Why are you so hot about it anyways? If you want to screw her, evidently there'll be a line." He glanced in disdain back towards the rest of the locker room.

Hunter groaned as he followed Shawn's gaze. "I heard them when I came in. I'm gonna have to keep an eye out." Shawn scoffed.

"Are you fucking kidding me, why is that your problem? Who cares?"

"She's a nice girl." He was avoiding Shawn's gaze.

"How would you know? Where did you meet her?" Hunter shrugged it off almost too dismissively.

"Backstage a few times. She's sweet."

"Yeah, well, she picked the wrong business to get into then." Hunter sighed.

"You hear anything else?" Hunter lowered his voice and changed the subject.

"A bunch of bullshit, nothing solid." Shawn sighed in frustration. Hunter nodded his head slowly.

"Well…we'll find out eventually. One way or another. I'll see you later." With that, Hunter left almost abruptly; usually he and Hunter stuck like glue backstage, well, when he wasn't stuck to Sunny. Shawn shrugged it off and went to get dressed.

Hannah adjusted herself in the too squeaky leather chair. Vince's office was similar to his business—tidy chaos. There were papers strewn across a surprisingly fancy mahogany desk, along with a very nice phone that Vince was moving to the center of the desk. Hannah watched him in confusion, until he sat down in his own chair, flashing her a smile. She quickly smiled back, not even daring to breathe in the too silent office.

"…Busy?" She blurted out, and only relaxed when Vince let out a laugh and sank back into his chair.

"You have no idea. As a matter of fact, I should be running tonight's show, but I left Pat in charge due to the more pressing matters at hand." She nodded slowly, adjusting her position in the chair again.

"Which is…?"

"Yes, I'm sure you're wondering what business could possibly be involving you." He laughed again. "Well, if I can be frank, your older brother is causing me quite the headache."

"I'm sorry…?"

"Relax, Hannah, you're not in trouble. Please, allow me to elaborate." Vince clasped his hands together in front of him. "As I'm sure you're fully aware, your brother and I have been trying to come to agreeable terms for some time now. However, recently, our negotiations have ceased and I learned he has been in contact with a…rival company." Hannah said nothing, however, wondered why Vince didn't just come out and say WCW. He turned his eyes to her now, and though they were pleasant, it was almost like a mask. There was something deeper there, almost something vindictive in his whole demeanor. "Have you heard any such thing about that?" She stared at him for a moment.

"Are you…trying to get dirt about my brother from me?" She asked, a small frown forming, before she realized she was speaking to her boss. Thankfully, he laughed.

"Heavens no. Hannah, I believe we're on the same page—I would be correct in assuming you want your brother back here too, yes?" Hannah nodded slowly. "I can't put my best offer out there if I don't know what I'm up against."

"Well, if you really wanted to know how stiff the competition was, you would ask Bret yourself. And if you can't because you're not currently speaking, I would be correct in assuming there's a reason for that?" Vince made a crooked smile, his lips pursing more.

"Correct." He allowed, but said nothing else.

"And would that reason be that Bret did in fact tell you about the offer he was made at WCW and you told him you couldn't match that?" Vince pursed his lips again and chuckled as he looked down at his hands.

"So you do know everything."

"Bret has discussed everything with us already. He was hurt when you told him you couldn't offer him any better."

"It's because I can't. That's the God honest truth, Hannah. I can't match Turner's pocketbook, and for as long as Bret has worked in the wrestling world, he does deserve proper compensation that perhaps he can't find here."

"Maybe there's a misunderstanding." Hannah murmured, leaning forward. "Vince, if I can speak for Bret, I think when he says a better offer, he means the best offer you can make him. He doesn't want to leave the place where he started. I know my entire family has the utmost respect for you, especially Bret. I even think he would be fine with less money as long as he knew he was being appreciated, and his worth was recognized in the best way you can." Vince now sat back, clasping his hands.

"He's expressed this?"

"More or less." Vince nodded for a moment, the wheels in his head turning.

"I'm just not certain if Bret can have a better deal here in the WWF in the long run. Compared what he could be making, staying here would be grim." He mumbled, and she could tell battle was slipping.

"Vince, I may be certainly biased, but I know it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Bret is one of your most valuable assets in this Federation. I remember my brother wrestling sick, wrestling on holidays, wrestling with broken bones, because that's what he would do for you. He can put on a good match with anyone and his name on any card instantly gives people a reason to want to tune in. Not to mention, the global impact he has." Finally, Vince smiled at her.

"You make a fantastic point, Hannah, you do. However, even if I wanted to try and rehash things with your brother, I need to know firstly that he's open to doing so." He placed a hand on the telephone sitting in front of him. "Would you be willingly to maybe give him a call?" Hannah blinked.

"And…pretend you're not in the room and that you didn't ask me to?" Vince laughed again.

"Hannah, I like your forwardness and I appreciate it. You can tell him everything we've discussed, and perhaps throw in a good word that I'm willing to be more open-minded going in this time. I'll step out into the hallway to give you some privacy." Vince stood, and she supposed she didn't have a choice after all.

She took a breath and picked the phone off the hook, dialing in the number to Bret's home. It rang a few times before he answered.

"Vince, I don't know why you keep calling when you've already told me I'd be better off taking the other deal. What more is there to say?" Bret snapped grumpily into the receiver.

"Wait, no." Hannah spoke. "Bret, it's me. Hannah."

"Johannah? Why are you calling me from Vince's phone?" Bret sounded confused.

"Well, long story short, Vince pulled me into his office and asked me about you."

"About me? He's stooping to a new low now, trying to dig for dirt from you. What did you say?"

"I think I surprised him, actually. I don't think he actually thought I knew everything."

"He's never understood how close of a family we are."

"I told him we knew everything already, and Bret, maybe there's just a misunderstanding here…If it came down to it, would you mind making less if it meant you could stay here?" Bret was silent for a long moment.

"It would depend on how much less we're talkin'."

"Say, a little less give or take, but more time? A longer career, guaranteed? Maybe that way, later down the road, Vince could sorta compensate you for your time and loyalty."

"Maybe I'd consider it yeah, but it doesn't matter. All he says is that he can't match it, I'm better off leaving. Why does he have you calling now, is he feeding you theses lines? Did he actually change his mind?"

"He asked me to call, but he stepped out. I told him I would talk to you because I think it's obvious everyone wants you here. No one wants you to go to WCW, Bret." Hannah swallowed. "Bret, I remember when I was younger and you were wrestling for Stampede, and then Owen going off to Japan…I remember being so jealous. I didn't think I could get any more jealous, but I did. When you and Owen were in the WWF together, with Davey and Dynamite Kid too, and you all got to be together. Now, I mean, there's a chance for us to all be together. And you belong here, Bret. This Fed would be nothing without you."

"Jo, you know I want to be there. That's what I want more than anything. So when Vince told me to go..."

"He said he wants to try and rehash things. And he also said he would be more open-minded this time around."

"Alright, well, if this is what he wants to do, we'll do it. Tell him that's fine, I would be willing to do the same. But he has to come to me, here." Hannah smiled.

"Okay. I will. Are you doing okay?"

"Things are going. I just put Blade to bed and he's back up again." Hannah giggled. "He told me to tell you he loves you." Hannah smiled, laughing.

"Tell him I love him more!"

"He said you're his favorite now—what? Oh, besides Shawn. He says that doesn't count because you're not a wrestler." Hannah tried her best not to get too crestfallen. "I let him stay up just to watch you the other night. How has the road been?"

"Going. There's…always something going on."

"I feel like that's a summary. A short one."

"I'll tell you more when we come back home. Or the next time I see you, whichever. Hopefully, you'll be jumping back in with us soon. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Jo. Take care of yourself, alright?"

They said their goodbyes, and Hannah let Vince back into his office, only to find him speaking to Hunter.

"Well, I've offered you many suggestions, but you don't seem to agree with any of them."

"I just want to be different, Vince, something to set me apart. Every manager you've suggested for me, that's already been done before." Vince threw his hands up.

"Well, this discussion clearly needs more allotted time that we're given today, you're gonna have to call me and we'll knock our heads together. But not until I deal with this Bret Hart situation." Vince turned his attention back to Hannah with an expectant smile, and she tried her best not to look at Hunter as Vince closed the door behind them. He stood where he had been standing, staring her dead in the eye.

"Did you make any process?" Vince asked eagerly before they could sit down again.

"He's willing to meet." Hannah told him. "But only if you're willing to fly down to Calgary to his home." Vince sighed.

"Well, I suppose that isn't the worst request. And I suppose he is worth it, right?" Hannah smiled.

"Right. He is."

"Very well, then. I suppose we'll see what unfolds now."

Hannah left Vince's office just when it no longer felt intimidating and was only half-surprised to see Hunter still there, leaning against the wall. He straightened up when he saw her, and she didn't move right away, wondering if it were too late to just walk.

"You're going to make me say it first, aren't you?" He finally spoke up, after they had spent the time staring at each other stubbornly. She still said nothing, to which he snorted. "It's nice to see you haven't changed."

"As a matter of fact, I haven't, Paul—or Hunter—whatever your name is now. It's been four years. Maybe you've changed, maybe actually being here did it or maybe it's because you're friends with Shawn, I don't know. But it's fine, okay? Sometimes friendships don't last." He grew almost amused now as he looked at her, a half-smirk on his face.

"Don't act like you don't have anything to apologize for. You were the first friend I ever made in this business, and then you just leave out of nowhere and I never hear from ya again? You never even told me who you really were. But, I'll go first, and you know I mean it because I wouldn't be sayin' it if I didn't. I'm sorry, alright? What happened was Shawn mentioned they hired a new blonde and I figured it was just another woman with fake tits, like Sable. Had I known they hired you specifically, I would've reacted differently."

Hannah sighed, and crossed her arms and Hunter made a face at her.

"Look, all I feel around here is…misunderstood and I was really hoping I had a friend in you. I need a friend around here, all I have is Owen and Davey and the girls."

"That's more than some people have. Shawn's only friend is me." She rolled her eyes.

"I wonder why. My brother and Davey don't count, and neither do the girls. None of them know me like you do. I didn't want you to treat me differently just because I was a Hart—that's why I didn't tell you. I had a good reason…But I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He nodded slowly.

"Well stop crying about it. We are friends." He hit her shoulder.

"…Good. I've missed you." She finally replied, with a smile and opened her arms. He gave her a hug, the first real one they had shared since 1992. As he pulled back, he was serious.

"Can I just ask why you left?"

"I…I had to." Hannah replied after she sighed, looking behind them for any approaching wrestlers.

"Had to? What the hell do you mean?" It was a sore subject she didn't exactly want to dive into, but she knew she was going to have to.

"Look, I can explain it all, alright? But after I do, maybe you could help me out?" She stood, pleading up towards Hunter. He remained unreadable.

"Help? Help you with what?" He asked.

"I'll explain, I promise. Just...please? She raised her eyebrows, clenching her hands together in a ball. "Please?" He let out a long breath of air.

"Fine. Alright, alright. Now why don't you tell me everything from the beginning."

Suddenly, the door to the men's locker room slammed open down the hall. Goldust came out, limping. "Who the hell put an egg in my boot?" He bellowed. Hunter was perplexed, but Hannah laughed outright, wondering how she could go through so many lows and highs in one night. Perhaps that's just what was to be expected, in the world of wrestling.