A/N: TGIF! Here's to a short work week and a hopefully long weekend. As always, thank you to all for your follows/favorites and thoughtful in-depth reviews. Once again, some of the points made by reviewers in the last chapter inspired me to add some things to this chapter; I can't stress enough how important CONSTRUCTIVE reviews are.

That being said, I'm kind of nervous to see how you all will interpret Hannah's actions in this chapter. I stand by them 100%, obviously, but it's always interesting to hear the readers' perspective.

Chapter Eleven

Wednesday, February 20, 2013
NXT facilities
Tampa, Florida

"Do it again."

It must have been the hundredth time Chris had repeated that phrase over the course of the last two hours. Hannah was getting a crash course in pro wrestling. They'd started with the basics: bumping, running the ropes, and the four cardinal holds: wristlock, waist lock, headlock, and hammerlock. Now they'd moved on to actually using those holds: chain wrestling. Hannah was tired, she was sore, and she was pretty sure she was bruised, but she would continue to "do it again" until she was told otherwise. Word had come in on her opponent, and it was the absolute last name she'd expected to hear: AJ fucking Lee. If she hadn't been motivated to do her best before, she certainly was now.

Thankfully, she couldn't possibly be in better hands. Her teacher was none other than Sara Del Rey, veritable indie women's wrestling legend and current NXT trainer. Even better, they had the facilities all to themselves that day; the majority of the NXT roster was off filming at Full Sail University in Orlando, and because Chris wasn't on the show that week he was able to lend a second set of eyes and advice.

In other words, if Hannah didn't learn something by the end of this week it would be her own damn fault.

For the thousandth time, she and Sara locked up in the middle of the ring. They struggled against one another until Hannah grabbed ahold of Sara's wrist and spun her arm into a wristlock. She wrenched it and Sara dropped to a knee, selling the move, and after she'd worked back to her feet Hannah pulled her into a side headlock. Again she cranked the hold, squeezing Sara's head between her forearm and bicep, and before Sara could reverse it Hannah dropped to a knee and executed a headlock takedown. Sara landed with her back flat on the mat, her head still trapped in Hannah's grip.

"That was good, Hannah," Chris approved from his post on the ring apron.

"You're a fast learner," Sara complimented as they broke apart. "Next thing you know you'll be hitting suplexes."

Hannah's eyes widened. "I think I'll leave that up to you. I just want to learn enough to survive Monday."

"As long as you get the basics down you'll be fine," Chris said. "People will actually be pretty impressed if they see that you can chain wrestle. And don't even worry about calling the match; AJ will take care of that."

"Um, don't you think I should be worried about that?" Hannah countered. It wasn't lost on her that, come Monday night, she'd be putting her trust and safety into the hands of the one person who hated her most. But Chris didn't seem concerned.

"AJ's a professional, Hannah," he argued. "You two may hate each other, but I doubt she's dumb enough to pull any stunts on Vince McMahon's daughter."

Hannah pursed her lips. She wasn't so sure she agreed, but she kept quiet.

"I doubt there'll be much to call, anyway," Sara offered. "Ziggler, Big E, and Maddox will probably all be ringside, and then if the Shield shows up too it'll be complete chaos. You could probably just surprise AJ with a roll up after some sort of distraction."

"No," Chris firmly interjected. "I'm not letting my student win via surprise roll-up."

Sara arched an eyebrow at him. "Your student? I haven't seen you in the ring with her."

"Right, because I'm the teacher. You're just the sparring partner."

Sara shot him a threatening look, but he'd already moved on. "I want you to learn at least one high-impact move. I'm thinking a DDT. It's simple enough for a beginner to pull off, but effective enough that you could use it to put AJ away."

Hannah nodded. "I think I can handle a DDT."

"All right," Sara looked at Chris. "Then get your ass in here so I can demonstrate."

Chris suddenly looked like he wished he could take back his sparring partner comment, but he climbed in through the ropes nonetheless.

"Okay," Sara started, "the first thing you're gonna do is kick him in the gut." She squared up with Chris and used the flat of her foot to kick him in the middle of his stomach; he doubled over as if in pain. "You're just gonna tap him and pull your foot away as fast as you can. Make sure to use the flat of your foot; if you use your toe you could end up jabbing him, and if you use your heel you might hit him too hard. And always aim right for the stomach."

"Yes please," Chris said. "I'm not wearing a cup."

They switched places and, just as Sara had, Hannah shot her foot out and "kicked" Chris right in the stomach with the flat of her foot, pulling quickly away after not so much as a tap. Again he doubled over, grabbing his stomach.

"Good," Sara said. "Now for the DDT itself, the first thing you're gonna do is put him in a front facelock." She wrapped her forearm around Chris's neck just as she would for a side headlock, except she and him were facing opposite directions. "Then all you're gonna do is kick your legs out from under you and take a back bump, and he's gonna take a face bump. And make sure to do something to let him know you're about to go—you always have to protect each other. The easiest way to do it is just slap him on the back right before you're about to go down."

Just as she explained, Sara smacked Chris on the back and immediately kicked her legs out from underneath her, never letting go of the headlock, and fell backward to the mat landing flat on her back. Chris landed face down, his head turned to the side.

"Pretty simple move," he said, but Hannah was hesitant. The move was simple enough, but she wasn't that confident in her bumping ability. They must have spent 45 minutes on bumping alone and she still couldn't do it quite right every time. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally injure anyone—even AJ.

Sara could tell exactly what she was thinking. "If you're worried about taking the bump what you can do is swing your outside leg back and then forward before you jump. The momentum will help, and it'll actually make the move look more impactful."

"That's actually how Ambrose does it," Chris said from the mat. "So it'd make sense for you to do it that way, too."

"But," Sara pointed her finger in the air, "there's one thing you really have to remember about this move. When you first put him in the facelock your grip will be tight, but when you drop back you have to loosen it up so that he can fall on his own. Don't let go, but give him some room. If you don't he'll end up landing on the top of his head."

Hannah furrowed her brow; maybe this wasn't so simple, after all. "Okay."

"You'll be fine. Let's just walk through it step-by-step."

Hannah nodded; but before she and Chris could get into position the sound of the training room door opening cut through the silence. She rolled her eyes when she saw who walked in: Brad Maddox.

"The party has arrived," he announced with a smirk.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Chris commented.

"Sorry, I got held up," he said as he leaned on the ring apron. "What're we working on?"

"Well, Hannah was just about to try a DDT for the first time," Sara answered. "So thanks for volunteering!"

Brad paused; he clearly hadn't expected to walk into that. "Sure thing!" he sarcastically returned. Hannah grinned as he climbed into the ring; suddenly she was a lot more eager to learn how to DDT.

Chris and Sara moved out of the way so that they could set up in the center of the canvas. "All right, like I showed you," Sara said. "Kick, front headlock, back bump. And don't forget to signal him and loosen up before you go down."

Hannah nodded. She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. She could do this.

She moved toward Brad and kicked him swiftly in the stomach. He doubled over and she put him in a front facelock, keeping her grip tight as she held him there for a beat. Then she slapped him on the back, and before she could think about it she swung her right leg quickly back and forward and let the momentum carry her backward and off her feet. She loosened her hold as they went down, and they hit the mat with a loud thud. It could've been a little smoother, but she'd done it.

"That was great, Hannah!" Chris proclaimed. "That has to be how you win on Monday. Did it feel okay?"

"Yeah," she grinned as she pushed herself up. "It definitely helped swinging my leg like that. Are you okay, Brad?"

Brad hadn't moved an inch since they'd hit the mat. "Brad? Hello?" Hannah nudged him in the ribs with her foot, but he didn't make a sound. She did it again, harder. Still nothing.

"Did you kill him?" Sara joked; but Hannah wasn't laughing.

"Brad?" She dropped to her knees to get a better look at his face. His eyes were closed shut and his lips slightly parted—it looked like he was out cold. Hannah's stomach dropped.

"Brad?" she grabbed his shoulder and shook. "Please do something!"

"AH!"

"Shit!" She nearly jumped out of her skin when Brad suddenly grabbed her wrist. Chris and Sara dissolved into a fit of laughter. Hannah went red. He'd been faking it.

"You should have seen your face!" he proclaimed.

"You fucking jerk!" she exclaimed as she smacked him. "I thought I'd given you a concussion!"

"Awww. Were you worried about me?"

Hannah tried to smack him again, but he caught her wrist and pulled her down into an armbar. She was flat on her stomach as he wrenched her arm back; there wasn't a whole lot she could do to counter, even if she did know what she was doing.

"Ask her!" Brad proclaimed.

Chris knelt down in front of her. "What do you say, Hannah?"

"Ow!" All of a sudden she let out of whelp of pain—Brad dropped her arm like it was made of hot coals.

"Are you okay?"

Hannah winced, gingerly cradling her right wrist. "This is my bad wrist, Brad," she explained. "I fractured it back in high school."

Brad blanched—and that was when she put him in a side headlock.

"Like a true heel," Sara proudly stated.

Slowly Hannah worked her way to her feet, bringing Brad up with her. "Do the takedown!" Chris shouted, but it was too late. Brad had already caught her nearest leg and was lifting her up into the air; she was about to be on the receiving end of a side slam.

"No, no no no no no!" she pleaded, but of course he didn't listen. He threw her flat on her back down, and the next thing she knew he'd hooked her leg in a pin. The mat vibrated underneath them as Chris counted 1-2-3.

"Your winner, Brad Maddox!"

Brad sat up and leaned over her, a giant grin on his face. "Sorry, babe. You'll get there eventually."

Hannah scowled up at him. "It's a good thing you're a short shit, otherwise that might have actually hurt."

"Mm, I love it when you talk dirty. Come 'ere." He leaned down to try to kiss her, but Hannah pushed her hand in his face and scrambled away. He tried to pull her back, but after a brief tussle Hannah got the upper hand and locked on an armbar of her own, Alberto Del Rio style.

"Ahhhh, okay, okay I give up," Brad relented as he tapped; Hannah waited another second before finally letting go.

"Your winner, Hannah McMahon!" Chris took her arm and raised it high above her head in victory. Brad remained spread eagled on the mat, defeated.

"That hurt," he pouted.

Hannah beamed from ear to ear. Maybe learning to wrestle wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Hilton Garden Inn
Tampa, Florida

"So how goes training?"

Hannah let out a tired sigh. After returning to her hotel room from training that night she'd planned on taking a long, hot shower and passing out, but just as she'd climbed into bed her brother had called. He'd seen what happened Monday night—and he wanted details. "I have lines of bruises on my back from running the ropes and I ache in places I didn't know it was possible to ache, but other than that it's actually going pretty well. My bumping could use some work."

"Your bumping?" Shane asked. "Hannah, that's the most basic tenet of pro wrestling."

"Yeah, I know," she shot. "I can do it, it just freaks me out."

"Well of course it does; it's completely counterintuitive to fling yourself backwards. Just don't think about it too much. You'll get the hang of it."

"In a week? Didn't Stephanie train for like a month before her first match?"

"I don't think it was a month, but it was definitely more than a week."

Hannah stared up at the ceiling, indignant. "I still can't believe no one even asked me if I wanted to do this."

"Yeah, I'm pretty shocked by that," Shane agreed. "What has Dad said about it?"

"That he assumed I would be okay with it. Which I absolutely would have been—if someone had run it by me first." She thought back on the heated exchange she'd had with Paul at the Gorilla position Monday. Who the hell did he think he was, checking her the way he had? He may be her boss in title, but in fact WWE was her family's business—and he'd just married in. He probably wouldn't even be Executive Vice President of Talent and Live Events if he'd never hooked up with Stephanie. Suddenly, Hannah completely understood why Shane had never liked their brother-in-law.

"Who's your opponent, by the way?"

Hannah pursed her lips. "Oh, that's the best part," she said. "It's AJ."

"What? You're joking."

"I wish I was."

"AJ Lee?"

"That would be the one."

There was a pause on Shane's end of the phone. "Wow," he finally uttered. "I know Stephanie can be a bitch, but that's a low blow."

"Yeah, well come Monday I plan on doing my best Stone Cold Steve Austin impression and giving her and AJ both the metaphorical middle finger."

"Well now I have to watch."

Hannah tried to respond—but a giant yawn escaped from her mouth instead. Shane chuckled. "I guess I should let you get some sleep. Like I said: try not to overthink it when you're in the ring. You'll just end up screwing yourself over; trust me, I know."

"Thanks, Shane. Goodnight."

"Night."

Hannah set her phone aside, rolled over—and was out like a light. At least a restful night's sleep was one thing this whole fiasco was good for.

Thursday, February 21, 2013
NXT facilities
Tampa, Florida

Bright eyed and surprisingly bushy tailed, Hannah returned to the NXT training facilities early the next morning; today she would learn the bare basics of putting a match together. But when she arrived, there was a fourth person standing alongside Chris, Sara, and Brad that she hadn't at all expected to see: her opponent.

She didn't even try to hide her disdain. "What're you doing here?"

AJ's jaw hardened, but she wisely kept whatever smartass comment she had to herself. "Hunter told me to come in so we could work on putting together a decent match. He's right—if we go into Monday having never locked up it'll be an absolute train wreck."

Hannah glanced to Chris, hoping he would bail her out; but he just offered an apologetic shrug. "It's for the best," he agreed. "It's no big deal for experienced wrestlers to go into a match cold, but because you've never done this before I'd feel better about you two practicing together beforehand."

Hannah stubbornly shifted her weight. She didn't want to admit it, but that actually made a lot of sense. "Fine," she conceded. "What's the plan?"

"Well, beginner's matches are generally just a lot of holds and hard hits," Sara explained. "We can work out a few spots if you want, but I think you two should just focus on getting comfortable chain wrestling each other."

"Yeah, and you're already working with an advantage there," AJ added. "Even though I'm more experienced it'd make sense for you to easily overpower me since there's such a size difference between us."

All the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room. Hannah's eyes went ice cold. What had that little Spider-Bitch just said to her?

"Don't sell yourself short, AJ," Brad quickly and astutely interjected. "You're pretty wily. Personally, I think the match should start out looking like you'll get an easy win, but then Hannah will make a surprise comeback and you'll go off the deep end. You know, because you're bat-shit crazy."

AJ's expression went stiff. "That works too," she forced.

Hannah bit her lip to hide her smirk. Brad had just earned himself some major brownie points.

"All right then," Chris clapped his hands before it could get even more awkward. "Let's get started."

Hannah climbed into the ring. If AJ wanted a fight, then she sure as hell wouldn't hold back.

That afternoon, Hannah truly learned what it meant to "work stiff." AJ hadn't let up on any of her strikes; and for such a little girl, she could hit hard. Already Hannah could feel a few bruises forming, but it only worked to motivate her more. Spider-Bitch could hit as hard as she wanted—Hannah had no problem matching her blow for blow.

"Hannah! Wait."

Hannah paused, her hand on the exit door. She'd just spent hours in the ring with AJ; the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her. "What?" she sighed. She was expecting a confrontation; but AJ held up her hands as if in surrender.

"Look, I know we aren't exactly on civil terms with one another, but I don't think we should go into this match with all this built up animosity. It'll just get one of us hurt."

"Animosity?" Hannah feigned ignorance. "I don't know about you, but our little sparring session was pretty therapeutic. I think we're good." She turned to leave—but AJ stopped her again.

"Hannah, please," she pleaded. "Let's just call a truce, even if it's just for the match."

Slowly, AJ extended her hand. Hannah stared down at the offer, silent. Oh, this was rich.

She looked her dead in the eye. "I'm sorry, AJ, but I didn't even realize we were at war. After all, in my opinion you got your truce when I let you keep your job after you fucked my boyfriend."

AJ froze, her hand still outstretched. There was absolutely nothing she could say to counter that, and she knew it.

"See you Monday," Hannah bit. A smirk grew over her lips as she left. Bring it, Spider-Bitch.