Title: Miss Hardcore

Rating: PG-13 for language/violence plus a low gag-ometer reading for sap ;-P

Spoilers: As stated. No direct dialogue in this one because we don't get Heat over here so I have to rely on summaries.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Summary: Ah, young love…or young like. Jeff likes Angel, but does Angel like Jeff?

SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, FEBRUARY 4TH, 2001

Jeff and Angel had been practically inseparable since Smackdown. After a full hospital examination, Jeff was advised to take full bed rest for his injured back, neck and right arm. He also wasn't supposed to train until Monday, but this was the only advice he really heeded. Angel was the only one who could even keep him in his room so straight after training she'd head over there and spend the rest of the day with him.

She performed very average renditions of showtunes with her guitar while he showed her photos of his dirtbikes and even read her some poems he'd written. They played cards, surfed the net on Matt's laptop, watched movies and played a Playstation they'd borrowed from the Kat, though why she had one was anyone's guess. They did not discuss anything that had happened on Thursday and Angel didn't complain once about training.

Sometimes Lita and Matt joined them for a few hands of poker, but because of Jeff's injury Matt had received word that he'd have an Intercontinental title shot against Chris Jericho on Raw, so he and Lita spent most of their time getting him prepared. Jeff was happy for him, but well into the realm of feeling sorry for himself, and hanging out with Angel helped him keep his mind off things.

"Hit me," Angel said.

Jeff punched her lightly with his left arm.

"You're funny. Now hit me."

Jeff hit her again. "You think you'll learn anytime soon?"

Angel rolled her eyes, smiling. "Jeff, just give me a freaking card."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I'll get that," Angel said, jumping off the bed. She looked over her shoulder as she walked. "You know, if you weren't crippled I'd so hit you back."

Jeff laughed as Angel opened the door.

"Angel! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

"Hey Molly, come on in. I've just been playing blackjack with this bozo. You want us to deal you a hand or two?"

"Sure, just a couple. Hi Jeff, are you feeling better?"

"I'm somewhat stir-crazy, but at least I can hit the gym tomorrow." He dealt the cards. "Game on."

"Molly, whatever you do, don't tell him to hit you."

Molly grinned at Angel. "Don't worry, I think I could take him." She flexed her bicep to prove it.

"See, Angel?" Jeff asked. "Some day that'll be you."

Angel smiled at him. "Okay, punk, hit me."

Jeff threw her a card. "Molly?"

"I'm good. Hey Angel, I was lookin' for you before on account I wanted to ask you something. Well, not really me, actually. I'm the messenger girl."

"Who sent you, Moll?" asked Angel as Jeff told her to show her cards. "Eighteen."

"Twenty," Jeff smirked before Molly could reply.

"Steve Blackman and cousin Hardcore," Molly replied. "And I've got six."

"Six?" Angel cried. "You could've gotten some more cards."

"I know, I just wanted to play it safe. Anyway, Hardcore and Blackman have a tag match against Bull Buchanan and the Goodfather tonight and they want you to be their valet."

"They do? What about you?"
"I'm helping cousin Crash tonight. And anyway, you're the only common ground those two have. Well, that and the fact they hate RTC, but they'd have a whole lot of valets if that was all they wanted."

"I'll drink to that," Jeff agreed, dealing out another round.

"If you want to do it you can get a ride in Hardcore's pickup," Molly continued.

Angel nodded and looked over at Jeff.

Jeff frowned at her. "What, you're asking for permission? Go for it. I'll be fine. I'll watch on TV with Matt and Lita so make sure you wave to us."

Angel smiled. "Okay. Molly, you can tell them I'm in."

"Great!" Molly cried. "Hey guys, what's a one and a king mean? Is that eleven?"

Jeff gave her a look, as if wondering whether she was for real. "Actually, it means you won."

"Yay!" Molly cried. "This game's great!"

* * * *

"Hi Angel, glad you could make it," Blackman said without cracking a smile.

"Me too," Angel replied. "Thanks for hiring me."

Hardcore clapped his hands together. "Okay, let's get to business. We have a hardcore rules match, which means I know all three of us want to be here. The fact it's against the Right To Censor people just makes it even more fun."

"Hardcore rules?" Angel repeated. "Fantastic."

"So we all have our roles," Hardcore continued. "We all know my decorated past in these matches. The fact that my name is Hardcore speaks for itself. And you," he said, focusing on Blackman. "Have certain skills which may help us out in this match. Not that I couldn't handle this myself but a tag team match means I have to have a partner and yours was the first name I drew from my cousin Crash's baseball cap."

Blackman raised his eyebrows. "Thanks for the compliment, Bob."

Hardcore ignored him. "You, Angel, would know how dangerous these matches can get, so we want you to stay out of it. But we do need your help. What we need you to do is stand where you can get under the ring and if we call for an object you get it for us as quick as you can."

"Okay," Angel agreed, happy she had a part to play.

"Steve," Hardcore prompted.

Blackman stood up. "We have to make sure you know what all the weapons are in case we call for them. What's this?"

"Fire extinguisher," Angel said patiently.

"This?"

"Kendo stick."

"This?"

"Rubbish bin lid. Blackman, come on…"

"Wrong," Blackman cut in. "It's a trashcan lid. This?"

"Road sign."

"Right. This?"

"Nunchukas. Come on, Blackman. You've taught me how to use most of these weapons. Of course I know what they are."

Blackman stared at her, his intense dark eyes unwavering. "This?"

Angel sighed. "Rub – uh, trash can."

"Right, this?"

"Leather strap."

"This?"

* * * *

There was a knock at the door.

"It's open!" Jeff shouted.

"We didn't want to interrupt anything," Matt said cheekily, appearing in the doorway with Lita. "Hey, where's Angel? Is she in the can or something?"

Jeff shook his head as Matt sat next to him on the bed and Lita took her place on Matt's lap. "No, she went to valet for Blackman and Hardcore Holly."

"Geez," Matt mused. "She gets more matches than we do."

"I'm glad," Lita smiled. "She seems to be finding her niche."

Matt nodded and turned back to Jeff. "How's it going anyway, bro?"

Jeff raised his left hand and held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "This close."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "What the hell have you been doing, Jeff? The two of you have been in here all weekend. I had to sleep in Lita's room. Not that I minded, of course." He wrapped his arms around Lita's waist.

Jeff shrugged. "I'm just trying to do it right. You gotta do it right."

"You're pathetic, Jeff."

"It's all about the bait, Matt. To catch a fine fish like Angel you've got to throw in the best bait money can buy and take your time when casting, or you'll scare her away."

"Okay," Lita announced. "That's enough comparing my cousin to seafood. Put Heat on, Jeff."

Jeff picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. They were greeted with the sight of Dean Malenko.

"Hey, look, Lita. It's your boyfriend."

"Shut the hell up, Jeff," Matt and Lita said in unison.

They watched Dean speak, all three with concerned looks on their faces.

"What does he mean he asked me to be there?" Lita fumed. "I got a phone call before but all I heard was heavy breathing."

Matt and Jeff laughed at Lita's attempt at a joke.

"Oh, so he's a single man tonight?" Jeff asked. "There you go, Lita. You're off the hook."

"One night in heaven," Lita murmured, placing her hands over Matt's.

On the TV, Malenko announced that by the end of the night he'd have two women with him who'd do whatever he wanted them to do.

Lita scrunched her face up and shook her head. "God, Dean. Is he on drugs? He's delusional. I mean, come on."

After a commercial break, Heat returned with Malenko trying to hit on a woman in the crowd. He was shot down but kept pursuing her.

Lita shook her head again. "He's so sad I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."

The first match was between Albert and K-Kwik. Although Albert was in control, K-Kwik had his moments.

"That K-Kwik guy's pretty good," Jeff noted. "Kind of like our style."

"Watch out, Jeff," Lita teased. "He's a better dancer than you are, you might be in trouble."

Jeff scoffed. "Yeah, but he's not a Hardy."

Albert eventually won the match with the move Tazz had nicknamed the Baldo Bomb and then Malenko was back on the screen, still trying to pick up.

"I kind of hope someone falls for it," Matt whispered into Lita's ear. "Then maybe he'll leave you alone." Lita smiled and moved around in Matt's grasp.

"There she is," Jeff announced.

"Aw, it's our baby girl," Lita smiled. "Doesn't she look cute?"

"Yeah, she does," Jeff agreed.

"She does look pretty hot," Matt said. "Not that I want to jump her or anything. I'll leave that to my baby brother, if he ever gets his act together."

"Oh, nice, Matt," Lita remarked.

Angel spotted the camera and grinned, mouthing the words 'hi, guys' as she continued down the ramp. The ring announcer was talking.

"It's a hardcore tag match?" Lita cried. "No, Angel. She's out of her mind. She is, you know."

"Relax, Lita," Matt soothed her, rubbing her back. "I think she's starting to learn how to duck."

"She looks pretty hardcore," Jeff commented.

Angel was wearing a pair of sleek black pants with a tiny black jacket and a midriff top with the word 'Angel' written across it in silver. Her lips were glossy, her eye makeup was dark and her hair spiked with plenty of product. She did look hardcore.

"Yeah, I like the outfit," Lita admitted. "Did you buy her that one, Jeff?"

"Let it go," Matt warned before his brother could reply.

On the TV, they heard Blackman shout, "Angel, nunchukas!"

She dove under the ring to retrieve them. "Blackman, heads up!" Blackman quickly went to work on the Goodfather as Angel jumped out of the way.

"Angel, trash can lid!"
"Angel, street sign!"

"She's a really good valet," Jeff observed.

"Yeah, she's real quick," Matt added.

"So long as she's not getting hurt," Lita muttered.

On the TV, Bull Buchanan attacked Hardcore with a kendo stick and went for the cover.

"Angel, fire extinguisher!" Blackman shouted.

"Blackman!" Angel cried, rolling it to him.

Blackman picked it up and broke the count by spraying its contents on Bull. Hardcore got to his feet and kicked the Goodfather, then covered him while Blackman kept Bull Buchanan busy.

"One…two…three."

Angel let out a squeal of delight and dove into the ring to congratulate her teammates.

Back in the hotel, Matt, Jeff and Lita were also shouting their approval.

"Way to go, girl!" Lita cried.

"Told you she'd be okay," Matt teased, hugging her.

Jeff just smiled as he watched the last few seconds of footage before it skipped to something else.

* * * *

The show was almost over. Lita and the Hardyz had seen Crash Holly lose to Chris Benoit and Test retain his European title in a match against Perry Saturn (despite interference by Terri) They'd even seen Malenko, frustrated by the luck he was having (or rather wasn't having) call a pimp and order two hookers.

After some XFL clips, the cameras focused on the stage at WWF New York to reveal Dean Malenko sitting with two ladies, who fed him grapes and gave him a backrub.

"Eat your heart out, Lita," he gloated.

Lita fumed. "Oh…pass me the phone, Matt."

"Lita…"

"Just do it, okay?" Lita grabbed the phone from him and dialed.

"You know his cell phone number?" Matt asked.

Lita waved him away. "He's only told me like four hundred times. Oh, hi, Dean. Yeah, it's me. How are you? Actually, I'm feeling kinda lonely right now. Tell me, Dean. I really want to talk. Are you busy right now? I know you're in New York. I am too and I was thinking, it'd be nice for us to get together."

Jeff started laughing. "And the hookers are gone!"
Lita glared at him, mouthed 'shut it' and did a throat slitting action. "That was just me, Dean, just thinking about you. You know, I'm here alone. Yes, I am. All on my lonesome. And you know what else? I can see you, Dean. I've got MTV on and I've been watching you all night. Are the hookers gone, Dean? Oh, not what I think? We both know it's exactly what I think. Dean, not only are you a sad, pathetic man who has to resort to paying hookers just to avoid being alone, but you will never, ever get a date with me, so you better get used to being alone." She hung up the phone. "Sleazy asshole." She shuddered. "Don't you guys even worry, 'cause some day I'm going to kick his ass."