Ch. 11

The second shower was fast, all I did was rinse off. Since we were stuck in the house again, I pulled on yoga pants with my Deadman jersey. I brushed my hair and teeth, and watched Mark dress. Black sweat pants and a grey tee shirt that fit across his chest like a second skin. I wondered for a minute if he was doing that on purpose. Keeping those massive muscles on display. Michael wasn't in the kind of shape that permitted him to wear anything that tight. Hell he can't even wear swim trunks without a shirt to hide his stomach.

"What's so funny?" Mark noticed, and put the brush down.

"I was just thinking, either your subtly keeping Michael in line, or your rubbing in his face that fact that you look better then he does." I traced my fingers down his arm. He flexed his arm, making the muscles bunch under my hand.

"If I'm going to rub anything in his face, it's the fact that I got his woman."

"Ex woman." was all I managed, as he'd fastened his mouth to my neck. I was going to have one hell of a hickey, but for once I didn't care.

"We know that but he refuses to admit it. He's hoping I'll hurt you." he said.

"Let me guess, he thinks he'll be the one I run to for comfort if you do." that wasn't a surprise. What a shame, for him anyway.

"Pretty much. He wants you back." that was the end of our discussion. I headed to the first floor bedroom, that still had my suitcases in it. I tossed the dirty clothes into the hamper. Caylen came in as I was digging through my bag, trying to locate my hoodie.

"What's wrong baby?" I asked, pausing to look at him.

"When lunch?"

"As soon as I find my sweatshirt." I resumed my search. Did I leave it upstairs?

"Ok." and with that the three year old went back to playing. I almost collided with Michael in the hallway.

"Lose something?" he smirked.

"Yeah, I did." I was immediately suspicious, but went upstairs to check first.

"Looking for something?" Mark appeared in the doorway a few minutes later.

"Yeah. You seen my Deadman hoodie. I know you gave it back to me yesterday, but now it's gone." I had looked every where, but the hooded sweatshirt was nowhere to be found.

"Michael was grinning about something after your almost collision in the hallway. I'd bet he knows where it is."

"I'll kill him." I would too, that was my favorite hoodie.

"Why don't you move your things in here?" Mark asked, a serious note to his voice. It had only been two days, and we hadn't really talked much about what we were doing. I wasn't stupid enough to expect any more then a vacation fling. I had no idea if he was thinking along those same lines or not. Given the fact that soon he'd be back on the road, I doubted he'd be serious about a lasting thing. We lived in different worlds, and if I was honest with myself, he was out of my league. Way out. I'd accepted the fact that when this vacation was over I'd go home and never see him again, except on TV. I looked at the doorway, where he was still standing.

"Might as well." I agreed.

"Plus you know Michael is eventually going to have a fit about us." now that was not a big surprise. Turns out the hoodie was under the bed, on Marks' side wedged between the mattress and the wall. How it got there, I couldn't say. Damn, I'd be hoping to have it out with the jackass. Oh well that will happen sooner or later I'm sure. The familiar song coming from the TV had me stopping. Turning to look, it was Fantasia singing America the Beautiful at Wrestle Mania XXVI.

"Whose idea was this?" I asked. Knowing that Mark had been upstairs with me, and neither Sara nor Connie would order the event without checking with everyone else, especially Mark. Sara could have been there for all I knew.

"Mine." Trisha spoke, quietly as Mark had just come into the room. She avoided him at all costs. Why I have no clue. Ok I might have some idea, but nothing I am willing to share yet.

"And did you forget consideration long enough to make sure everyone would want to see it before you ordered the fifty dollar pay per view?" I asked already knowing the answer.

"No. It's just you guys talk about this Undertaker and Wrestle Mania, I wanted to see what it was you were talking about." she explained. I fought to roll my eyes, turned and looked at Mark. I wanted to make sure he had an idea of what I was planning on saying. He nodded. So I let her have it.

"You do understand the fact that the Undertaker is in this room right now, right? Did you stop to consider that he might not yet want to see this?" I stopped there. Knowing she wouldn't have a good answer to either question.

"I forgot that, and no I didn't. I thought I could watch it before he realized it was on." she was speaking quietly.

"It's a four hour event honey, and his match is last, there's no chance of that." I said as the music for John Morrison hit and he came out. The first match of the night was about to start.

"Oh." was her answer. I just rolled my eyes, and went into the kitchen to fix lunch. Lunch finished and the dishes were done by the time Bret Hart's match started. I had no real interest in it since I'd seen it already. So I settled the kids for a nap, and myself on the couch with a book. Mark went upstairs, after asking to borrow my laptop. He came down just as Batista's match with John Cena started. He had my laptop in one hand, and moved my feet with the other. Adjusting my legs so they were draped over his lap, I was guessing he wanted to show me something on the computer.

"Did you see this?" he spoke quietly, so as not to bother the others' who were engrossed in Wrestle Mania. I glanced at the screen, and saw the webpage I'd designed for him, well for a Taker fan site actually. Since they were in cooperation with the WWE I'd bet Vince had e-mailed him the page after my bosses approved it.

"Yeah. I designed it." I wasn't bothering to whisper.

"Really. Wow. I like it." there was genuine amazement in his tone. Up till that point he hadn't known exactly what I did.

"Thank you. I take it Vince sent it to you?"

"Yeah everything like this that has to do with me, since I own the rights to my image and Undertaker name, has to be approved by me." he explained, which didn't surprise me at all.

"Well I'm glad you like it. The others' in my department all know I like wrestling, and the Undertaker in particular. So they gave me that assignment. For just that reason." I replied, as I watched Batista tap out. Silence fell as HBK came out, parading down the ramp, and into the ring. I smiled smugly when the gong chimed and the lights went out. I heard Trisha gasp in awe when Mark, in his Undertaker regalia, came out of the floor. I watched her watch his slow trek to the ring. I hummed the Graveyard Symphony along with the TV. He'd made it to the ring, I watched him raise his hands, bringing the lights up with the gesture. Such a simple thing, yet it never failed to affect me.

"Here we go." I said, watching him pull the hood off, eyes rolled back. HBK climbed back into the ring and the bell rang signaling the start of the match.

"HBK doesn't win does he?" Trisha asked, about halfway through the match.

"Watch and see." was the only thing Mark said. I just grinned to myself since I knew the answer already.

A.N. Hehe, I evil. Bit of a cliff here. I promise there will be a Mark/Michael fight soon..