Chapter Thirteen: The Bachelor Party (Part One)

Las Vegas, Nevada- March 5th, 2010

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Mark eyed the man in front of him with a blank stare. Shawn Michaels, someone he'd worked with for a very long time, merely shook his head at the younger man in front of them. Paul Levesque, Xander's older brother, grinned at them both.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do for a bachelor party?" he asked, putting his water bottle back into his locker. He poked his head out from behind the door, grinning like a fool.

"Strippers, yes," Mark laughed, rolling his eyes, "strip clubs, not so much."

Shawn smiled and got up from the bench he was sitting on, walking over to his bag. "Hunter, I really don't think that's a great idea."

"You would, though, Shawn," Paul replied, dorky grin still in place. Shawn looked over at his best friend and scowled. Mark grinned as he watched the exchange. Though Shawn was older by quiet a few years, the two of them had been best friends since the late nineties. Together with Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, the boys had formed a backstage group called the Kliq. Shawn had drifted away due to drug and alcohol related problems, so much so that he had quit wrestling for a few years, only to come back as a born-again Christian. He stepped away from things like strippers and parties, deciding it better to keep his head on straight and follow a path of virtue, not sin.

"Guys, back on topic please," he said, drawing the younger men's attention. "Paul, I put you in charge of my bachelor party because you threw Xander's, but I am very much against going to a strip club."

Paul pouted, leaning back against his now-closed locker. "Why?"

"Because I shouldn't have to pay money to see someone strip when I have Michelle who will do it for free."

Shawn let out a chuckle, smiling slightly as the door opened and John Cena stepped in, on the phone.

"Yes, Xander, I know. Just make sure- well, no, but what has that got to do with..? Fine. Talk to you later," he said, hanging up his phone and dropping it onto his bag, sitting down beside Mark and pulling his cap further over his face.

"Dealing with my son-in-law can be a grind," Mark commented, grinning as John tilted his head to look at him.

"You have no idea. So, what conversation have I walked in on?"

"We're trying to convince Mark to go to a strip club for his bachelor party," Paul said, groaning as Shawn slapped him across the stomach.

"You mean you were trying to convince him, I have nothing to do with this."

"Remove the crucifix from your ass and lighten up, Shawn."

"What have I told you about blasphemy?"

It was at this moment that Vince McMahon, owner of the WWE and Chairman of the Board walked in, raising an eyebrow at the two men arguing. Vince was an older man, in his mid sixties, with graying hair and a strong jawline. He was tall, broad shouldered and always immaculately dressed in a tailored suit. He and Mark had a very good relationship, so much so that if there was trouble backstage, Vince sent the perpetrators to Mark before he himself dealt with it. Vince had been the first person to receive a wedding invitation outside of Mark's immediate family, that's how close they were.

Mark bit back a chuckle; he knew exactly what was coming from the Chairman. Judging by the soft chuckle from John, he knew too. This wasn't going to end well.

"Do I need to put you two in time-out?" Vince asked, light smile on his face. Mark had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the look of sheer terror on Paul's face.

Paul had married Vince's daughter, Stephanie, about seven years ago, risking life and limb to make the boss' daughter happy. One wrong move on his behalf left Paul terrified every day of a fist going through his face and out the other side.

"No, Vince, we're just arguing about silly things, really," Paul replied, his demeanor changing considerably. John fell off the seat beside Mark he was laughing that hard.

"Good. Mark, a word?" Vince asked, looking towards the slightly younger man. Mark nodded and stood, following the Chairman into the hallway.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, leaning up against the wall. Vince crossed his arms and looked at his employee.

"What's this I hear about you having a bachelor party on the strip this weekend?"

Mark smiled, looking away from his boss. Wow, news spreads fast around here. Remind me not to leave Paul in charge of anything ever again.

"I only wanted it to be a small thing; a few drinks with the boys at a bar, but Paul is very insistent about having strippers."

"Going to a strip club as I heard it."

Mark sighed, running a set of fingers through his hair. Of course Vince had heard about Paul's asinine idea, there weren't a lot of people in the company who didn't. The Divas probably knew, if Paul had told Stephanie. Which meant Michelle would know, and that didn't bode well for the Deadman.

Vince smiled at him, like a father would smile at his son, but then his lips curled into an evil smirk and Mark had to wonder what was going through his boss' head.

"I'm all for it, considering I'm paying for it."

Mark froze. Vince was paying for his bachelor party? Since when had that been arranged? Mark hadn't asked him, he wouldn't dare; he'd left everything up to Paul.

That's when it struck him.

"Excuse me, boss," he seethed, stepping back into the locker room where Paul was attempting to balance a set of DX glow sticks on the bridge of his nose.

"PAUL!"

The sudden yelling caused Paul to jump and drop the glow sticks into his lap, forming a glowing, green 'X' over his crotch.

Mark took this as a sign from the heavens that Paul deserved to be kicked in his family jewels. So, reeling back so he had a good amount of momentum behind, he kicked Paul between the legs, surprising both John and Shawn who scooted away from the angry Deadman. Vince sidled up behind Mark and smiled, watching this whole thing unfold.

As Paul curled into himself and groaned, Mark kicked him again, this time in the thigh. It wasn't as hard as the first kick, but it did the trick; Paul flipped over almost instantly and faced Mark, looking up at him. Mark crouched in front of him, catching the terrified look in Paul's eyes.

"Why I put you in charge of my bachelor party, I will never know."

~X~

"I really wish you hadn't have done that."

Paul groaned as Xander, who had only just entered the locker room to see what all the fuss was about, dropped an ice-pack onto his brother's nether region. Mark, from his position near the door, grinned down at the blond who was still curled in the fetal position.

"I really wish you hadn't told everyone and their dog I was going to be in a strip club."

"You need to let loose, man. Michelle didn't care when I told her."

"Not the point."

Xander nudged at Paul's leg to get his attention.

"You do remember my bachelor party, don't you?" he asked, leaning back on the bench and looking down at his brother. Paul raised an eyebrow.

"Vaguely. I was pretty hammered that night."

"You rocked up at my house while April and the girls were gone and fed me vodka until I needed to go to hospital. Do you remember my reaction?"

Paul looked down sheepishly. Mark remembered it all too well.

When Xander had been discharged from the hospital, he had called Paul and blasted him while he'd been in the middle of a business meeting. Paul had almost been fired due to the argument they had over the phone. Mark had been sitting in on the meeting the whole time, listening to the brothers argue. It had eventually ended when Vince told Paul to get out and chill out; he'd deal with him later.

Paul looked up at Mark.

"Sorry."

Mark took a deep breath, almost as if he was going to rant until his face turned blue and fell off, but instead, he bent down in front of Paul, getting incredibly close to his face, and smiled.

"You're paying for my lap dance."