HERE WE GO! I'M BBBBAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKK! XD XD

Okay...enjoy the story.

Be it a proud showcase of ego or just the mere – and somewhat highly unlikely – fact that the colour red appealed more to him than blue ever could, Vince McMahon made RAW his flagship show. By doing so not only did he give RAW the upper hand of having more airtime and being broadcast live, but it also labeled the superstars on the roster as being more superior than their Smack Down counterparts. The latter was most certainly a debatable comment; however the initial was the biggest thorn in Smack Down's side. Being pre-taped was a fact that made the blue show highly predictable as people were able to just Google the results before the actual TV showing. Such an angled disposition should have been the death of Smack Down; however they held enough winning cards that allowed them to stay in the game and even at some points bet higher. One card was labeled with the fact that – despite appearances – Smack Down superstars were given a lot more time to train than their RAW friends. However, judging by appearances it was easy to spot which superstar on the blue show spent more time running personal "errands" and less time lifting weights.

Such was the fault of Adam Copeland. The blond haired, blue-eyed "hate-me-because-you-love-me" superstar was an advocate of wasting time on the hours dedicated to training. In all fairness, Copeland trained just as hard as the next guy. If a guy put twenty hours a week into training, then Adam would match that exact number by the end of three weeks. It was this kind of attitude that baffled most other superstars as Copeland was as – if not more than – capable when it came to performing at his best and juggling the other aspects that made up the WWE, when in all truth the older man should have been rendered useless once work called.

In the short time he did dedicate to training, Adam did up to triple of what his co-workers did in their sessions. It was more an act of cocky optimism rather than an act of arrogance, as the blond man would often set his goals to higher than impossible and stay good-spirited enough to achieve them. However, to say that he liked doing so was equivalent to saying that ants loved rain. And aside from himself, the only other person who was well aware of that fact was approaching him for the first time in countless years.

"Don't scowl so hard Copeland." An accented voice chimed into the low music that emitted from Adam's I-Pod. It garnered the man's full attention. "You'll just make yourself look worse."

Using his arms, the older blond placed the large weighty iron bar down and eased cautiously into a seated position that allowed him to see the brunette in full view. He slid on a small smile onto the lower half of his face, while taking out the ear buds welded deep inside his ear canal.

"You really know how to hurt a guy." Blue eyes captured the dark browns that stared back. "Don't you Matt?"

Unbeknown to a large number of people, at one time in his life, Adam Copeland was madly in love with Matt Hardy. And an even less number of people knew that the man was still very much in love with the older Hardy. Back then, for Adam, it was a love at first sight scenario that planted the seed of infatuation in a deep, inaccessible part of his heart. Such a vicious attack of infatuation filled the man with an insatiable need to take the brunette who had been clinging onto his chastity in the name of his brother, Jeff. Overtime Adam became overcome by the barrage of feelings he felt the moment Matt Hardy crossed his mind, and soon it led to the construction of an intricate – and overly detailed – web of lies, and deceit. The abominable construction imploded much like a Hydrogen bomb and created a series of damages ten times that. The conclusion did not meet any of Adam's hopes as his plans ended with a truck load of everyone's hatred and eventually resulted in Matt having to be the one to ultimately cut all ties with him the only way he knew how: quickly, straightforwardly, and with an air of icy cold.

"That's an unkind thing to say." The thick accent lit up Adam for a moment and soon the man had to catch himself from disregarding the harsh words spoken in such a seductive enunciation. "Especially since it's coming from you." Hardy's smirk dwindled as his brown eyes wondered over to the I-Pod that rested on Copeland's left thigh. "What are you listening to?"

Copeland glanced at the blank screen of his MP3 player. "A beautiful combination of words, vocals, and instruments." He threw a confident look towards Matt. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your audience?"

Matt scoffed to himself before setting up for a reply. "Last night I picked up a stray that was leaving the Smack Down hotel." He lifted his chin slightly upwards to drop his eyes stoically onto Adam. "He doesn't have many friends as we both know, and he didn't come to see the one friend he's got so I figured the only other person he'd come to see would be you." Copeland's expression lacked any hint of intrigue or a need to pry. It forced Matt to take hold of his famous straight-forward, tell-them-like-it-is attitude. "Just what kind of web did you tangle Phil in?"

His trademark smirk sat kingly on his face. To all regards, Adam had felt a slight tinge of hope spark in the core of his being when he sat up to see Matt standing ahead of and smiling at him. And he was cursing himself for doing so.

"That's a pretty bold declaration Matt." He flexed his neck muscles garnering a small cracking sound out of the right side. "What makes you think I've done anything to Phil?"

"Because it's what you're good at Adam. Wrecking the lives of happy people."

A cruel chuckle left the lower levels of Adam's throat. "Happy people huh? Phil doesn't fall into that category, I assure you. The man could even out-sorrow a Goth with the kind of life he's had to live." Copeland sighed slightly to dissipate the false friendly mood and let in an air of seriousness. "So really, am I wrecking a happy life or just making one a bit more interesting?" He tilted his head slightly down to the right. Steely blue eyes stared directly onto a listening Matt Hardy. "I haven't done anything illegal, if that's what you've tried to imply over there, and you have my word that it's all consensual. Phil and I have, what you like to call, a business relationship."

"It didn't seem like that when I carried him home last night."

The older man raised his eyebrows in phony disbelief. "Really? In that case, please tell me what it seemed like to you, oh Almighty one. Enlighten me on your views of wisdom."

Matt opened his mouth to sharply reply, but drew back and chuckled to himself. "You are one sly bastard."

Adam blinked in comprehension. "What was that? I couldn't hear you with this chunk of 'mind-your-own-business' stuck in my ears." He looked up eagerly at the younger man. "Please, repeat yourself. I think my ears are actually up to listening to you this time."

The brunette slowly shook his head. "Unbelievable." A strained grin slipped onto the lower half of his face. "After all these years, you're still the asshole I despise."

"Well, considering that you've never fucked me before, you don't have the right to judge." He stood to his feet to be on eye level with Matt's now biting glare. "However, tell you what. In the name of the good old days, I'll make you a deal. I tell you what Phil and I are up to and if you don't like it then I promise you, I'll stop."

He folded his large arms across his chest. "What's the payment?"

"The address of Phil's apartment."He grinned widely. "Pretty good deal don't you think?"

Matt gave a short, cruel laugh. "Why would I tell you something that obviously Phil might not want you to know?"

"Ah but that's the beauty of it my friend." Adam theatrically stalked around an anchored Matt in a three sixty fashion. "Whereas I don't really need the address, I can tell that you're really worried about Phil, and it's only natural that you'd want me to stop whatever it is I'm doing to hurt him." He peered at Matt from over the man's exposed shoulder. "So giving me something I don't really need for something that you really want isn't such a bad trade after all, now is it?"

Matt thought for a second – brows creasing slightly to showcase where his mind had now gone to. "Fine." Adam smiled greedily. Matt flicked his harsh mocha eyes over his shoulder and onto Copeland. "But you go first."

In a need to uphold all that was fair and just, Phillip Brooks was quite possibly more of an anti-gym person than the famed Mark Calaway. The dark-haired man, in all truth, saw the necessity of these training sessions, but having that knowledge did not make him anymore willing to like them or want to participate in them. Being a full-time lover of kickboxing, Phil would often blow at least seven out of the eight hours dedicated to his training, practicing his move-set on the large hanging sandbag on the upper level of the gym. While it was a complete nuisance to his trainers, Phil's sore addiction was a major help to anyone who faced the potential horror of searching the massive gym for him.

Such was the case of one Jeff Hardy.

The older blond (hair color depended on occasion) loved to train, but hated the almost ever-present times that he had to break away and look for someone. Having been accompanied by his older brother Matt only to be dumped just a few minutes later; Jeff was beginning to feel the effects of loneliness. Training –much like everything else in his life – was no fun for the younger Hardy when he had to go it alone. Hence, his need to leave his training quarters to start searching for a training buddy soon overcame his desire to actually finish his trainer's to-do list.

As if fitted with a homing device, Jeff was able to easily and quickly locate his friend, subsequently quenching his thirst for company. The younger brunette was slamming his legs into the hanging sandbag in a sort of repetitive yet practiced motion. Watching his brother Matt train was fun because it was more like a hangout session than a training session. However, watching Phil train himself, with a look of fierce determination hardened onto his facial features, gave Jeff cold chills as the situation branded him the same way it did the first time he met a then younger Brooks. It was a brand that etched a feeling that he was simply a stranger looking into the life of Phillip Brooks, or even an eager fan watching his hero with the knowledge that he was far out of his reach. Either way, it was times like this that made anyone watching through Jeff's eyes realize that for every bit of simple that Phil was, there was an equal amount of complexity that overshadowed it.

After much consideration, Jeff swallowed his thoughts, and walked over to the younger brunette with a giddy smile on his face. "Phil." Brooks continued to slam hard kicks into the sandbag's now dented side. "Hey! Phil!" His tone grew more uncertain the longer Phil remained silent. "Phil!"

The brunette recalled a kick and looked at the person standing behind the sandbag. "Jeff! Hey -" He yanked out his headphones upon realizing just how loud he probably was. "Hey. Hey man what's up?"

"Ah... nothing much. I'm just... you know..." Hardy walked over to the nearby weight bench taking a seat on the edge of the padded seat. His blue eyes rested kindly on a towering Phil. "I'm sort of bored, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind hanging out with me."

What started as a small laugh quickly evolved into a long fit of laughter. "Let me guess" Brooks sat beside Jeff "Matt's left you."

"Actually..." He drawled on the word. "Well if you want to put it that way..." He swung a nervous glance to Phil before slamming his eyes to the ground. "Okay. He left to go talk to Adam about something 'private'" He mockingly stressed on the last word before looking to Phil. "What could he possibly have to say to Adam after all that's happened between them?"

Phil gave a small shrug to respond.

Jeff looked away offering Phil a moment to think. One thought was currently – and wickedly – poisoning his mind. Last night was no dream. After coming back to his apartment, having been gone for a week, Phil was more than just shocked that Mark had been waiting there for him. It wasn't something he would have done had the situation reversed and it wasn't something he had expected Mark Calaway to do. The same Mark Calaway who was famous for having low – if so much – tolerance towards anything that caused him to escape his comfort zone. Having now seen the kind of person that Mark Calaway was, Phil decided then and there to seize the seemingly perfect moment and tell the older man all of what he had intended to. However, the moment vanished soon after and reality shattered what could in no other way be described as a dream. For some unknown reason, Mark chose to step away from the situation by dismissing it and heading to his room, leaving a confused and ruffled Phil to swallow the words he wanted to say.

/Damn it! Why did he have to be sleepy just then?/ Phil questioned the floor ahead. /The second I open my mouth, he just walks off./ Saddened cerulean eyes skated subtly across the floor. /And then this morning he doesn't talk to me./ The hardwood looked up dryly through varnished bamboo eyes watching as Phil gently swept the base of his thumb over his lower lip. /Is he avoiding me now? Is that the consequence of my actions?/ After convincing himself otherwise, he slid his eyes over to Jeff momentarily as if observing the man for study. /Maybe it's time I talked to him./

"Uh...Jeff?" /Maybe I should start from the beginning./ Nerves frayed at his tone as the older blond turned to him. "I, uh...Do you remember that party you held a few years back. T-The one to celebrate your first title win."

Jeff thought for a second before giving Phil a large smile. "Yeah. I do." He chuckled a bit. "Adam tired to set up Glenn and me to get Matty angry." Not a second flew by before Jeff's eyes lit up. "Maybe that's what he's gone to talk to Adam about." He stood to his feet immediately, startling a now dumbfounded Phillip Brooks.

"Wait. Wait." Phil frowned a bit in confusion. "What are you-"

"Adam had suggested that he get into the feud you and I have going, and Matt must have found out about that and..." He stared at Phil egging the man to finish the sentence.

Unsure, Phil scrambled for some form of response. "Uh...and now he's gone to tell him not to?"

"Exactly!" An accomplished look sat on Jeff's face. "We could be detectives you know. We could even have our own show. Like a Punk and Hardy or Hadunk or Pardy type of show. " Jeff nodded to no one in particular. "We could even have Matt as the grumpy boss. It'd be fun."

"Uh huh." Phil responded distantly. /He's such an idiot. How the hell did the conversation go back to Matt?/ He sighed softly. /Why do the best moments always pass me by so easily?/

Noting that his friend had taken a sudden turn onto the road of subtle disheartened feelings, Jeff quickly dug into his back pocket to pull out a small wrapped gift. He placed it onto Phil's lap

bringing the man's attention out of his thoughts and into the reality that was the gym and the gift.

"A gift?" The brunette eyed the object before taking it up in his hands to spin it at every angle. He looked up at Jeff. "It's not my birthday you know."

"I know." Jeff stated pointedly. "But I figured that today should be Tazz's birthday." Phil gave him a deep look of question. "He's a stray, so we don't really know what his birthday is, so I figured we could just give him one. And I chose today."

Phil thought momentarily. His confused look was still sewn deep into the seams of his face. "Why today?"

Jeff shrugged imperturbably. "Just because." He prepped a large smile as he reclaimed his seat. "Go ahead and open it."

Cerulean eyes glanced down on the small gift. He studied it, with the focus of an archaeologist as his fingers gently pressed down to hold it a bit tighter. "Um..." He looked over to Jeff. "Shouldn't I be opening this with Tazz?"

"It doesn't matter. Just open it." Jeff whined. "Come on."

Phil coughed up a weary smile before turning his attention back to the present. The first tear was done meticulously as if holding onto some hope of saving the pink, flowery wrapper. After glancing at his friend for possible approval – and getting an expression mirroring that of a child on Christmas morning – Phil discarded the saving need and beastly tore away the rest of the packaging. /What is this?/ His jaw was hanging open as he stared at the small roll of leather and sterling studs that protruded from the black surface. Encased in blatant shock, Phil gingerly picked up the item causing it to unroll to a full – but short – length. A small sterling silver dog bone shook as it swung suspended from the center of the measured piece of leather. The brunette almost toppled off his seat once he saw the name etched into the bone's shiny surface. /Tazzy?/

He looked over to Phil with his mouth still slightly open. Cerulean eyes wide as saucers tried to communicate telepathically with the older blonde, but when Jeff simply looked on in silent anticipation, Phil turned to using his vocal cords. "What is this?" It shocked him somewhat that his sentence flowed out with such ease.

"It's a dog collar." He snatched the leather contrivance from Phil and placed it around his own neck. "See? It goes around his neck like this."

For a second – as it really couldn't be helped at the moment – Phil pictured Mark straddled in the leather studded collar, before ridding his mind of such atrocities once he felt the effects of embarrassment cave down on him. "Why does it have Tazzy written on it?"

Jeff took off the collar and stared at the silver bone hanging off the leather section. "Oh." A juvenile smile encompassed his lips. "I got carried away. It's a cute nickname right?"

Phil felt the need to answer thus continuing on this strange route however a sudden sting of guilt hit him just seconds before the words formed in his mind. He stared sadly at the collar in Jeff's clutches. /I may as well tell him./ "Jeff...um...this is a great gift and all, but um...I think you should know that -"

"Black's not his color?" Jeff proclaimed slicing through Phil's sentence and subsequently derailing the younger man's train of thought. His smile dropped."I knew I should have gotten the red one."

Phil frowned slightly. "No. This isn't about the color of the...collar, but -"

"Pink." Once more Phil's mind ground to a halt so as to comprehend what it was that his friend was suddenly talking about. "I saw a pink one and it even had sparkles. Matt said no to it, but maybe that would have been a better on to choose." A tinge of disappointment laced his tone."Yeah. This one just lacks that pizazz, you know. It doesn't have that wow factor."

/What?/ Phil closed his eyes momentarily to regain his thoughts. He reopened them once the train returned to the station. "Look," He grabbed the collar from Jeff "this isn't what I want to...I just..." He stopped and inhaled deeply. "Okay. I have something I have to tell you Jeff, and I'd really appreciate it if you just listened. Can you do that?"

Jeff nodded childishly. Phil took it as an incentive to continue on.

"As you already know Mark's been living with me."

"Mark's still living with you?" Phil nodded a bit uncertainly. Jeff's eyebrows rose dramatically. "That's impressive."

Once more Phil lost track of his thoughts. "Why is that impressive?"

"Well, he allergic to dogs right, so I thought he'd have moved out as quickly as possible since Tazz was around and stuff."

Phil fought the urge to face palm himself. /I can't talk to him. It's too painful./ He drew in another calm, recollecting deep breath. "To my point, what I have to tell you involves Mark and Tazz."

Jeff's bland look of blind comprehension faltered almost instantly. "No Phil."

Brooks sold a look of total puzzlement. "No what?"

"Don't do it." He rested his hands over Phil's and gave them both a gentle squeeze. Blue eyes saddening by the second. "I know how much you like Mark and you might even see this as a once in a lifetime opportunity to finally tell him how you feel, but please don't kick out Tazz just because Mark's allergic to him."

If his head could unscrew itself and fall over so as to best show his stunned feeling, it would have done so three seconds ago. "J-Jeff, I'm..." /My brain is bleeding. I don't believe he's turned this into.../ He exhaled roughly as if trying to quickly rid his bloodstream of carbon dioxide. "What? What are you talking about Jeff? How did-"

"Tazz is a stray Phil." Jeff intruded tentatively. "He loves you even if he doesn't show it too well, and if you kick him out just for Mark's sake then he'll have to continue living life on the streets without any more room in his heart for love or kindness or even joy." Jeff clenched Phil's hands tighter forcing the skin of the man's right palm to weld to the metallic skin of the studs decorating the black leather collar. "And I know you don't have the heart to abandon someone like that."

Phil shook his head in utter disbelief. /He's an idiot./ Ever since a few years ago, Phil had come to terms with having that thought about Jeff Hardy. Upon meeting the older blond on the streets of New York nearly a decade ago, Phil was always aware of Jeff's unstable mindset and his inability to fully comprehend situations. Hardy had always approached life with a smile that bore nothing but joy, and despite having ran away in fear of his older brother (who Phil barely knew of at the time) with only five dollars and the clothes on back, his outlook on life remained – dare Brooks say – more cheerful than ever. It had taken all of Phillip's deceptive skills to keep the then younger Jeff away from the wrong crowd and the wrong substances. One lie told another when it was just him and Jeff against the world for two straight months, however some habits proved to be more die hard than others. Heroine found its way to Jeff and after his fifth near-death experience, Phil convinced Jeff to move with him. High on his "last" dosage, Jeff agreed but passed out on the way. He woke up in his childhood bedroom and found a sleeping Matt Hardy lying in the chair beside him. It would be a few more years before a much younger Phillip Brooks returned to Jeff Hardy's life. And when he did, Phil discovered that the man he had babysat for a little over two months was still the world's biggest and nicest idiot.

"I..." He turned his eyes down to his hands. "I did abandon him. I did it once before, and I did it again a week ago." His tone shied. "The truth is Jeff... sometimes I think he's better off without me. But then that might just be my coward side talking. The side that doesn't want to say anything because it fears the consequences."

Jeff peered sympathetically at his friend. "I'm sure that whatever you have to say, Tazz will always be there to listen. He's not going to judge you Philly." Phil glanced up weakly at him, bringing a small, comforting smile to the face of Jeff Hardy. "He's not that kind of stray."

Phil scoffed emphatically more to himself than anyone else. His eyes raked over the small part of the collar that stuck out. The small bone with Tazzy scribbled in cursive glistened back in an inanimate form of reassurance. "You're right." He shot his eyes to Jeff. A rabid serious tone highlighted his now shadowed sapphires. "With that in mind, I honestly believe it's time I told you about what's really going on." Alien focus bore deep onto Jeff's face. Phil took a deep breath, "You see the truth is, Mark Calaway is my-"

"Hey Phil!" A voice called from the far left alerting both of the seated men to it. Phil turned to meet the glare of an oncoming Matt Hardy. "I need to talk to -" Brown eyes landed on Jeff's hand clutching to Phil's. A devastating frown craved into his forehead almost cracking his skull in two. "What's going on here?"

Noting immediately what suddenly set Matt off, Jeff pulled away and smiled idiotically at his brother. "We were just talking." He gave the older man a long hug. "I was soooooo bored Matty. So I came to give Phil some trouble."

Matt smirked kindly at his brother. "You need help." He looked back down at Phil – a protective arm still wrapped around Jeff's shoulder welding the man to his side. "I see Jeff's given you Tazz's present."

Phil glanced down at the object in his hand and gave a shy chuckle. "Yeah. Thanks. It's um... something that Tazz would definitely need."

"Make sure he wears it all the time." Matt teased knowingly. "If he ever gets lost, that in-built GPS system can find him for you."

Phil gave a coy smile." You're a darling Matt."

"Well," The older man slid a side grin. "Seeing that today marks the end of two months, Jeff thought it was time to get him a birthday."

/End of two months?/ "Yeah." Phil frowned a bit. /Today's the start of a third month?/ The younger man's eyes went wide in an instant as a long-forgotten memory suddenly ransacked his mind.

"Three months."

Mark Calaway's trademark gravel voice tuned into the now blanked mind of Phillip Brooks, succeeding in silencing all the various noises that surrounded the young brunette.

"I'll do this pet thing for three months and then I'm gone, and we never, ever talk about it."

/He didn't talk to me today./ Realization hit Phil's expression with the force of a thousand falling bricks. It squashed all life out of the man. /That's because today starts month number three./ The sterling silver coldly kissed the middle of his palm and the tips of his fingers, but soon the feeling no longer registered to a now far-gone Phillip Brooks.

"After I leave, you don't come near me and I won't go near you. Got it?"

The brunette's jaw clenched shut as his racing mind suddenly found something to focus on. And that was the instant threat that Mark Calaway – his pet – would suddenly no longer be a resident in his apartment. The time he thought he had to sieve through his feelings and words had instantly ran out without a moment's notice leaving him to stare at the blank wall of apprehension. For all intents and purposes, his deal with Calaway was now on the frayed ends of its rope.

"We decided to make today his birthday." Jeff's accented voice drawled in with happiness loaded in each letter. "Normally you'd give it six months, but three months shy isn't-"

"I have to go." Phil shot to his feet instantly, startling both Matt and Jeff. A heightened sense of urgency coursed beneath his cerulean eyes.

It caught Matt's attention. "Why the sudden need to-"

"I just have to go." Once more Phil intervened with razor-sharpness. "I haven't accomplished anything and my time's almost up." His words stumbled over each other with the speed at which they were being spoken. "It may as well be...I..." He focused on both men. "I'll see you around." With that, Phil turned to leave. Matt pulled away from Jeff and grabbed the retreating man on his shoulder to stop his movements.

"Before you go I think I should let you know something. It's about-"

"It can wait!" Phil shrugged Matt off his shoulder and added a fierce glower to the mix as he glared harshly at the older man. "It has to wait."

Not one to enjoy being snapped at, Matt defensively retaliated. "Listen, this is very important alright!" He roared louder. "It's about -"

"See ya!" Brooks jogged quickly down the stairs and eventually disappeared from sight leaving Matt to enjoy the bitter taste of the words he meant to say.

The older brunette frowned heavily at the spot where Phillip Brooks was standing before he turned to see the heavy look of worry imprinted onto his younger brother's face. It saddened him a bit.

"Was it something we said?" Jeff inquired softly and sheepishly.

Matt offered a kind smile as he gave his brother a quick hug. "It wasn't that baby." He ruffled the blond's hair effectively brightening Jeff's mood. "Don't worry about Phil." /I'm sorry I have to lie to you Jeff./ Kind brown eyes sat on Jeff's now joyous blues. "I'm sure whatever life dishes out he can handle it." /But it's the only way I can keep you from getting caught up in the ugliness of all this./

Jeff trusted his brother and turned to pick up the scraps of wrapping paper that had been littering the floor. Matt simply sighed heavily and gave one last look at the first floor at the bottom of the staircase. The area below him seemed to represent the times in his life when things weren't as convoluted. However, for each of those times he recalled to be knotted in some convolution, the face of the younger brunette would instantly pop up showcasing that once more, Phillip Brooks, had brought complications into his life. /You really have hit rock bottom Phil. And it's even deeper than ever./ He sighed again. This time more defeated than the last.