Jessa Bolt


"You!"

Callie had no time to react as I charged at her full-speed, tackling her. The two of us went up and over Kurt's desk in a hail of paperwork. Poor Kurt barely had time to wheel out of the way as we crashed to the floor, Callie on top of me. The two of us were shouting obscenities at each other. I landed hard. Callie hauled back and sucker punched me in the face. I felt my nose drip with what I assumed was blood. She cried out as I poked her in the eyes and shoved her off me.

Two arms circled her waist and yanked her away from me. Unlucky for Callie, I had a firm grip on two chunks of black hair. She howled as the arms pulled. A set of arms circled me and pulled back as well. Something had to give, and in this case it was Callie's hair, which came out by the follicles. She screamed and howled with all the intensity of a raging banshee before Luther Reigns hurled her out of Kurt's office. Mark Jindrak put me down. I made a beeline for the door, but he grabbed me again. Kurt wheeled up to me. I was still holding Callie's hair in my hands.

"Easy, Jess," he barked. He watched as I let the tufts of Callie's hair fall to the floor. He smirked. "Nice."

"I've been waiting to do that for a week," I told him. I looked around his office, at the destruction I had caused. I felt a little bit sheepish. "Sorry about your office, Kurt." I motioned lamely to the papers and pens scattered on the floor. Kurt shrugged.

"It's fine. Did she hurt you?"

"I came down hard, but I was already hurting from that kick last week." I wiped the blood from my nose with the back of my hand. "Anyway...you wanted to see me?" Kurt laughed. He always wants to see me. I'm sure if he could swing it, I would never leave his office. I know he's pleased that I'm advancing in the brackets for the Vengeance title tournament in July. As it stands, I'm the front-runner to take on Callie.

"Yeah. I wish I could say it was good news, but I need you to break this piece of bad news to Cena." I groaned.

"Don't make me the messenger, Kurt; it's John's favorite thing to shoot." Kurt, Luther and Mark laughed. I was helping Mark and Luther pick up the paperwork I had spilled, wincing every now and again at the pain in my ribs. "I'm dead serious, Kurt. Why do I have to be the bearer of bad news all the time?"

"I'm sorry, Jess, but I can be rest assured that John isn't going to attack you. This is some really bad news."

"What is it?" I sighed, putting a stack of papers on his desk.

"Hunter brokered a backdoor deal with Vince to crash SmackDown. Stephanie and the Board of Directors are backing it because the inter-promotional stuff is going to draw huge ratings. There's nothing I can do to fight this. Hunter is going to try and force me out of my job. I can feel it." My face softened with sympathy. I could see the prospect of Kurt losing his position was frightening, since nobody knew if he was going to walk again after his accident. He went from winning a gold medal in the Olympics to one of the most well-decorated professional wrestlers of all time. The wheelchair has been a hard adjustment for Kurt. The idea of having no place inside the wrestling business I could tell scares him to death.

"Don't worry about that, Kurt. John and I won't let that happen," I assured him, even though I wasn't feeling all that confident about where things were heading. Kurt smiled at me.

"My eternal optimist," he said softly. I sighed.

"I'm going to go talk to John. But you need to stop worrying. We need you to conduct business as usual here. The second you show Evolution any sort of fear that's when they're going to strike, and that's when they're going to win." Kurt nodded and Luther put the last of his papers on his desk. Luther is a gruff looking man with a bad horseshoe-shaped haircut.

I left Kurt's office, relieved to get out of there. I made a beeline to the Divas locker room. I knew if Callie spotted me alone it would be all she wrote. I ripped her hair out, her favorite features. She's going to be looking to tear me limb from limb. With the way things are going, I know it's not going to stop until one of us is out of commission. I'll be damned if it's going to be me.

I entered the locker room, surprised to see the unmistakable outline of a mountainous man. He had his back to me, dressed in a leather jacket, dark jeans and a dark wool cap on his head. It was more of a toque. I closed the door behind me and blinked. "Excuse me, but I think you may be lost. This is the Divas locker..."

He turned to me and I audibly gasped at the familiar face who had left our little family only a few months ago, having a disastrous match at WrestleMania XX on the way out. Brock Lesnar, former WWE Champion and all-around badass, standing in front of me. He gave me a smile in greeting. He's one of Kurt's best friends, which kind of makes him my friend by proxy, I suppose. Brock is a tall guy of six-three, muscled in places that most people didn't know could muscle. His hair is short and blonde, almost in a crew-cut style. He's got very pretty blue eyes. Since leaving a few months ago, it looks like he dropped about thirty pounds.

"Well, it's nice to see you, too, Jessa. And here I thought you would miss me."

"What are you doing back here? I thought you were finished with us for good!" I laughed, rushing over to him for a hug. He hugged me back tightly, the leather of his jacket cold against my skin. His chuckle was a low rumble that vibrated through the two of us. He pulled back, his fingers exploring a strand of my hair.

"You look good, Jess. Is that a new shade of red?"

"Yeah. You know me - always looking for that perfect shade." Naturally, I'm a brunette, but I've always had a love affair with bright, vibrant colors. My mom tells me I should have been born a redhead. It's the one thing we agree on; it would have saved me literally hours of dyeing my hair.

"Well, I really like this one. You should keep it. It makes those beautiful eyes of yours pop. But I'm sure Kurt's told you that already," he said with a smirk, laughing when I blushed. Kurt's feelings for me aren't exactly a secret to anybody. He touched my shoulder and looked into my eyes. "How are you feeling, by the way? Kurt said that Hunter actually gave you a Pedigree."

"That he did. Callie bruised my ribs for good measure." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, Kurt mentioned the little bitch went to the Dark Side. How's Cena dealing with it?"

"Not very well. Now I have to go and tell him about this backdoor deal Hunter has brokered over Kurt's head. He's going to be livid because they're going to be here making our lives miserable week in and week out. Breaking up is hard to do, but it's even worse when she's out in the ring telling the world he can't get it up." Brock snickered. I shot him a look and he stopped. "Dawn Marie's joined them as well. They're starting to attack my non-wrestling friends back here."

"Maybe you should talk to Torrie. I'm sure she'd help even the odds with Dawn Marie. As for the other stuff, you know I could step in and give Cena a hand." I stared at him, surprised. Not only because I know that he hates John, but because he left three months ago. Now he's here, standing in front of me, in a business I know he cares very little for, offering to help us drive Evolution out. Something doesn't smell right to me, but I'm so desperate for manpower that I'm willing to overlook any and everything.

"What about that WWE-free life you've so desperately wanted?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"I got cut from the Vikings and the Blue Bombers deal fell through, so at the moment I don't have anything better to do," he confessed. "Besides, I'm getting tired of hearing from Kurt every week about how you're getting hurt. You're too pretty to be stretchered out of here."

"Oh, so you're here to play knight in shining armor," I laughed.

"In so many words, I guess. Kurt's in a wheelchair, so someone has to. Do you object?"

"Hell no! We could use all the help that we could get." The door to the locker room opened and Torrie walked in, still dressed in her pretty pink ring gear. She stopped dead in her tracks when she realized I was talking with Brock. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Well isn't this a blast from the past?" Torrie laughed, rushing over to hug Brock. He hugged her back with a chuckle on his lips and a smile on his face. "What brings you back here?"

"Jess' problems with Evolution." Torrie nodded, her face darkening. Last year, Dawn Marie had married Torrie's father before he died. It was a really terrible time. Torrie got to watch her father marry her nemesis in his underwear and they had videotaped their honeymoon...it was disturbing to everyone back here.

"I can't believe Vince is letting this stand," she confided to him.

"Anything for ratings," Brock drawled. "Anyway, Jessa and I were wondering if you would like to help us even the odds, since that wicked ex-stepmother of yours seems to be riding their coattails." To my relief, Torrie nodded. If she had said no I would have had to call in a favor from Raw. I know Lita would have helped me without a problem.

"Of course. Now, if you don't mind, Brock, you are in the Divas locker room, and I need to get showered and changed." He nodded. He shot me a glance and together we walked out.

"Do you want me to talk to John?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. He might go nuts if he sees you. Let me explain things first and we'll go from there." Brock nodded. We stopped in front of John's locker room. "Could you do me a favor and just stand guard out here for a minute? Just make sure you don't see anyone from Evolution getting any crazy ideas."

"Of course."

"Thanks." I knocked on the door and walked in while John was lacing up his trademark "pumps". He looked up at me and smiled, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. It mirrored mine.

"I heard you got into a catfight tonight," he said, looking back down at his shoes.

"Wow. Word travels fast," I said, watching him work at his laces. "I did. Took two clumps of hair."

"Nice." He stood and gave me a hug. "What's going on?"

"I need to talk to you about a few things. Evolution's plan to take us over is going smoothly with Vince. Kurt says Hunter's brokered a deal over his head. They're here for the long haul, and Kurt's afraid that they're going to force him out as GM."

"Good."

"You don't mean that." He shrugged. I decided to pull out the other guns. "John, Brock Lesnar is standing outside your door."

He stared at me blankly. His eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Brock Lesnar? Remember him? He's standing outside your door right now. He's come back to help us." He scoffed. Rolling my eyes, I threw my arms up. "John, do you remember what happened the last time you dismissed me as crazy?"

John shook his head and went to the door. Flinging it open, Brock turned to him and smirked. John turned to me and I offered him a shrug. "You may as well get in here, meathead," John murmured. Brock walked in.

"Sorry about things with Callie," he offered.

"Yeah, well, she'll get what's coming to her, I'm sure," John told him. He closed the door and took his seat beside me on the workout bench, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what brings you back here? I highly doubt you came back here because you wanted to. I mean, what happened to your big NFL dreams?" He was silent for a second, then nodded as if Brock's silence had confirmed his suspicions. "They didn't pan out."

Brock became angry, but I put a hand up to keep him calm. John's been through enough; it's natural for him to be rough around the edges, emotionally raw and angry.

"I saw what was happening, and I wanted to help my friends," Brock told him hotly. "I don't know if you've noticed, John, but Kurt's not exactly in the position to defend himself or Jess. You two both need the manpower. I noticed that the second Jessa was Pedigreed on your watch."

John stood, snarling. I shoved him back down to the bench. "Stop it, you two," I chastised. I turned my gaze to Brock, upset with him for taking such a cheap shot at John. "Brock, that wasn't his fault. He was already down and out by the time I got down there."

"Don't fight the help, John. You need it." John looked up at me.

"Do you trust him?" he asked me.

"Kurt trusts Brock with his life, and I trust Kurt with mine, so I trust Brock."

John nodded, as if my answer satisfied him. He stood, pointing a finger at Brock. "Don't you dare double-cross us," he threatened. Brock put up his hands in mock surrender.

"I wouldn't dream of it."