Chapter 10

"Well, you're suspended, which is politely saying you're fired. I don't have to worry about you and your friends destroying my motorcycles or printing off posters with big words, so it allows me to be… generous." As in, not kill her, which had been tempting for a while. His gaze flickered to her hair, wondering how she managed to use the bathroom without accidents happening and snorted. "And like I said, everything stopped once you were gone. So either someone realized Vince was on the warpath or someone had it out for you. Best person to determine which was what would be you."

"Hell, I thought you wanted me gone, hence the strippers and clown incident." Emery would NEVER live that down, shaking her head. Who the hell would send strippers to HER room, a woman's room? Not that there was anything wrong with girl on girl action, but she didn't swing that way. "And if I'm fired, I wish they'd tell me so I can start looking for another job. TNA is hiring in their writing department and other wrestling promotions are looking for writers too. So, I'm not too worried about it, honestly." Though she did sound saddened by the fact she'd more than likely lost her job with WWE. 10 years down the drain. "Ugh, this is depressing. Wanna play a video game?" She laughed at the incredulous look on his face. "Oh come on! Don't tell me you're THAT old you can't enjoy a game, Deadman?"

"Wait, go back…TNA? You know they suck, right? And it's not just the writing, it's the talent." They got all the WWE leftovers and rejects and he understood why she thought she'd fit right in. Shaking his head, Mark eyeballed her collection. "I like racing games." He admitted, arching an eyebrow, daring her to say something.

"Yes, I know TNA sucks, but what choice do I have if I'm fired from WWE?" That revelation about him didn't surprise her and it was written all over her face. "Considering the ride you took me on your bike, which was amazing, I'm not shocked at all. Just sit there looking pretty while I set this up." At his growl, she laughed and bounced over to her entertainment center, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Here we go, get some real aggression out with this one." She tossed him a controller and took one for herself, turning the console on. "How about I order a pizza or something?"

Vegging out and playing video games – this was Emery's idea of heaven. He was familiar with the systems. Hell, he had grown up with some of these and he grunted when he spotted an Atari, shaking his head. Talk about making a guy feel old as dirt! Mark could not believe he was sitting here with her, about to eat pizza and play video games. The Undertaker had lost his mind. Green eyes began searching for a camera or a cell phone, not about to have this made up into the next poster.

"Sure."

"Beat you again!" Emery gloated, smirking over at Mark, who looked ready to either break the controller or hurl it against the wall. She wasn't sure yet. "If it makes you feel any better, the new WWE game they came out with recently, I defeated Paul while playing…Hornswaggle."

She grinned evilly, standing up and swiped another piece of pizza from the coffee table. 5 of them were strewn and haphazardly stacked, not that she minded. Mark was a lot of fun to be around and hang out with, surprisingly enough.

"Oh come on, don't cry Deadman. I'm the Queen when it comes to video games, just ask Paul and Randy. They'll tell you how many countless hours they've spent trying to dethrone me and I get them every time." Plopping on the couch right next to him, she reached out to pinch his cheek playfully. "Come on, get that scowl off your face. This is supposed to be fun."

"Darlin', you are a sore winner is your damage." She bragged, a lot, and he wondered if that was why her friends seemed to be few and far between. "Not saying you're not good, because you are." The fact that she had used that midget in a video game to beat Paul… that was hilarious, he snickered, reaching out to pinch her cheek in return, his more of a warning than a tease. "Got Blur?" His favorite racing/motor mash game ever. He sucked at the mash part, but he did pretty well on Mt. Haruna. "Come on, Queenie." When Emery stood up to go look, he lightly swatted her backside.

"See, now I don't mind being called that. Queenie has a nice ring to it. And I'm not a sore winner, you're just a sore loser."

She stuck her tongue out at him, not minding being swatted on the backside. Didn't he figure that out when he spanked her? Now that was a delicious memory…she immediately pushed that thought process out of her head and pulled out the game he wanted to play. Popping it in, Emery took her place next to him on the couch again and started the game, drawing her knees up to rest against her chest. There was a reason he picked this particular game and when he actually defeated her, dethroning her undefeated streak, her jaw dropped.

"No way! No fucking way! You beat me!" Legitimate defeat. Holding her hand up, Emery high-fived him and patted his jean covered thigh, shaking her head. "Nice going! Wanna go again?"

"Sure." He watched as she set the options, noting the damage was now at one-hit and respawn off, shaking his head. "That's cheating, Queenie." She wanted to be called that, fine, it actually seemed to suit her.

He was also certain that was a bear in those old kiddie books. Cargo Run, he sucked at that one and groaned, rolling his eyes when he was shunted right out the gate, dying and set down the controller to reach for a slice of pizza, watching as she kept going. Third lap and the map glitched, leaving her car floating in the water. Loved the game, but this was the one track that had that issue and he shook his head. He was having fun, this was wrong, on a lot of levels.

"Well that sucks."

"It always does that, I swear. That's the only bad thing about this game, honestly. The glitch was supposed to be fixed, but they never bothered to do it." Emery shrugged, moving to get up to change out games and blinked when the cheese had slid off the pizza to land right on his shirt. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh while he cussed and went into the kitchen to grab a wet paper towel and sat down to pluck the cheese away. "If you-" Watching this man remove his shirt, his muscles flexing with every movement, made Emery breathless and she had to get a hold of herself quickly. "Let me throw that in the wash really quick. I have stain remover, don't worry." Shout was her best friend in these circumstances as he handed over his shirt to her.

It'd been a long – LONG – time since Emery felt remotely anything for a man, but Mark was no ordinary man. Mark smirked the moment she was gone, glancing down at himself. That had worked out better than he thought. Now he knew, she wasn't a dyke; she was just sexually repressed or something.

"You don't have to, Queenie, I can just-" When she took it and darted off down the hallway, he got up and followed, his footsteps silent. He had years of practice when it came to being quiet. "Thank you, Emery." He said, green eyes amused when she whirled around to find him right there, noting her eyes were raking him in again. Mark wasn't a video game, but he was pretty sure she was sorting out how to play him.

"Damn, you need to wear a bell or something." Emery joked, turning away from him to spray his shirt with the Shout and tossed it in the washer, putting a small amount of detergent in before shutting the lid.

It wasn't that she was sexually repressed, there wasn't a lot of interest in the company and nobody glanced her way, besides Randy and Paul. The laundry room was actually a pantry and he'd taken over half of the space besides the washer and dryer. Emery had to look up at him, gripping the washer and nodded, smiling softly.

"Not a problem, Mark. I would offer a shirt for you to wear, but…you're about three times the size of me, so…I don't think you want to have a Chris Farley moment."

"Who?" She had lost him and could only assume it was from a video game or something. When Emery's jaw dropped, Mark reached out with firm fingers and closed her mouth for her. "That's how… flies get in, darlin'."

That was not actually what he had been about to say, but the woman was washing his shirt and being nice, so he probably shouldn't provoke her. Mark eyeballed her pantry, or whatever it was, cocking an eyebrow at how… tiny it seemed, though that was just him. He leaned forward, his massive body pressing hers back into her washer and reached up, wrapping a stray spiderweb around his finger. Emery followed his hand to the spider web while her face was pressed against his muscular chest, inhaling his scent for a brief moment. Sandalwood, gasoline and something she couldn't put her finger on, but it was intoxicating none the less. Emery had to get a hold of herself and looked away from him when he backed up a fraction, pushing her glasses up on her nose since they'd slid down a little. Her heart was pounding vigorously against her chest and her body felt heated suddenly being this close to him.

What was going on? Didn't she despise this man? So why was she suddenly aroused by him?

"There's a – uh – scene in the movie where he puts on David Spade's jacket and…you know, it would be easier just to show you. Come on, we'll watch the movie and you can see for yourself what I'm talking about." Emery had to get out of this enclosed space before she did something reckless.

Except she couldn't get out because he had her trapped there and Mark ignored her, finishing what he was doing before looking down at her. Her glasses were steamed and he bet it was due to being nose to chest with him. He stepped back and bent down until they were eye level, reaching up with his web free hand to take her glasses off of her, rubbing them against his thigh while he stared into her eyes.

"You have pretty eyes, darlin'." He informed her, wondering why she didn't wear contacts.

"Thank you." Emery wanted to stop him from removing her glasses, but couldn't get her limbs to work properly. Her reply came out in a soft murmur, not a trace of humor or disregard. "You do too."

His eyes were gorgeous, emerald gemstones. It was no wonder women threw themselves at him and worshipped the ground he walked on. This room was becoming stifling, his scent wafting all around her and Emery had to find some way to put some kind of distance between them, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She hopped up on the washer while it ran and clasped her hands in her lap, only for him to close the distance between them again, her glasses being set on the dryer.

"You probably hear that a lot though. Your eyes, I mean." Emery didn't realize it, but her cheeks had infused a deep crimson from his compliment.

"Mine?" Actually, he usually got told 'great eyeliner' because he wore it often and, half the time, he forgot to wash it off; he was a tired, busy man. Mark couldn't tell if she was blushing from his compliment or from her attempt at one. "Come on, Queenie." He gripped her waist in his hands, fingers splayed against her firmly. "Let's get out of this little room, you look ready to faint."

She was flushed and looked clammy, maybe now was a good time to check her temperature. He lifted Emery up and set her down, feeling her body glide against his. Mark definitely approved of the tank top and shorts. Feeling his hands anywhere on her body ignited her in flames. Her tank top had rode up when he lifted her, so it was skin to skin contact. She shivered involuntary against him and knew he felt it, her feet finally coming in contact with the tiled floor moments later. The rest of her house, besides the kitchen and bathroom, was carpeted. She hated wooden floors of any kind, carpeting all the way.

"I'm a little warm…" Emery admitted, watching him back out of the room and took her glasses to slide them back on as her vision became 20/20 again. "Come on, Deadman, we're gonna watch that movie." Grabbing his hand, she pulled him down the small hallway of her house without realizing what she was doing.

It was odd how she seemed to have forgotten how he bullied her, scrawled on her forehead, basically kidnapped her, literally spanked her and generally made a nuisance of himself. Of course, Emery hadn't been an angel either, though her antics had never been physical like his. Mark had reached the conclusion that she was an adrenaline junkie and a closet masochist; she got her rocks off by being humiliated or put in… awkward positions. He let her pull him out into the living room, taking 30 seconds to shame the half-mast erection he had gotten back down.

If Emery knew what he was currently thinking, she would've booted his backside right out the front door and bounced it off his head like a basketball. As it was, he was being nice to her and she'd be lying if she didn't find him attractive. Extremely attractive. He would never go down that road with her though, they were completely different people. Opposites did attract, but Emery hadn't forgotten the incident with the pen on her forward or ruining her favorite Kingdom Hearts t-shirt. After popping the movie in, she sat on the couch and put a little space between them, grinning as soon as it started. When it got to the part where Chris Farley started singing 'fat guy in a little coat' with David Spade's – Richard's – suit jacket and ripped it down the middle, she laughed and pointed at Mark.

"That's exactly what you would look like if you put one of my shirts on. Only you're not fat like him, you're…built." That was the best word she could come up with at the moment, turning her attention back to the movie.

After a few minutes into the movie, Mark knew who she was talking about now and this was just another reminder of how different they were. He didn't really care for dumb comedies, more of a suspense/mystery kind of guy, and sports, of course. "Isn't he the guy who overdosed while banging a hooker?" Even he remembered that, which was definitely the way to go and he grinned lasciviously at the thought.

"Yeah he did." Emery liked a lot of different genre movies; she wasn't just a one genre type of woman, liking to keep an open mind. "It's not the greatest movie, but I like it nonetheless."

She stood up halfway through the movie to walk down the hallway to throw his t-shirt into the dryer. Then she visited the bathroom, braiding her hair while take care of business. Once she finished with that, Emery walked back out to rejoin Mark and didn't see him anywhere, raising a slow brow wondering where he was.

"Mark?"