Edge whistled lightly as he walked. He grinned predatorily. Oh yeah…he was happy.

   Why?

   He got to kick the crap out of Storm, Regal and…Christian...in one night.

   How?

   Six-man tag.

   When?

   Tonight.

   Where?

   The next city, Chicago.

   Another how?

   No DQ.

   Where was he?

   Standing outside the Hardyz' door.

   He grinned again, his trademark psychotic grin. Once the whole Alliance muck started, all rivalries became pretty much null and void…except for Jericho and Rock, and everyone knew how that turned out. The Hardyz were pretty nice guys; it was just a pity that Christian didn't get to find that out.

   At the second thought of his brother that morning he lost his smile, and was suddenly overcome with weariness. Christian…dammit, he couldn't think on this track. If he thought about it too long he would do the same thing he did the night after…the night after Toronto, and cry his eyes out.

   He had spent too long that night wishing he knew why his brother did that. First the hug, where Edge detected the smallest hint of wet eyes, the first chairshot, then destroying the King of the Ring trophy…then the con-chair-to. God, that one-man con-chair-to hurt worse than the entire TLC series put together.

   Edge wiped his eyes quickly, then took a deep breath and held it. He exhaled, and knocked on the door.

   As the not-totally-closed door opened under the slight force, the blonde looked around slightly. Then he blinked. And blinked again. The door slammed in his face, and he scratched his head.

   _Um…what the hell?_

   _Ah crap,_ Matt thought, quickly nosing Jeff awake. His younger brother yawned, pressing his face more firmly into the pillow.

   "Get up!" Matt hissed between his teeth. Jeff stretched. "C'mon!"

   There was another knock at the door. He walked to the door, taking his time as he picked up random things off the floor and threw them furiously at his brother. He faked a yawn, and turned the doorknob as he rubbed his eyes.

   "Hi Edge," he said, putting on a sleepy air. Matt checked his wrist, trying not to smile at the confused look on his friend's face. "What's the time?"

   "Was there just like a pair of puppies in here or something?" Edge asked bewilderedly, ignoring the question.

   Matt looked confused, moving slightly to block the room from Edge's gaze. "Puppies? As in dogs or as in females?"

   "Dogs."

   "No," a voice answered from behind Matt. Jeff was visible to Edge for a moment, jumping up from behind Matt to see who was at their door. He bounced again, waving this time. "Hi Edge!"

   Mat turned, watching his brother literally bounce his way to the bathroom. "How long have we got before our bus leaves?" He turned back to the blonde at the door and could hardly contain a snicker. The look of confusion on Edge's face was priceless!

   "We've got forty-five minutes…are you sure there weren't any dogs in here," Edge half-questioned.

   "Dogs?…Edge, you've had too many brass knux shots lately," Matt said, shaking his head. "Go see a therapist or somethin'." He closed the door, and couldn't help it

   He fell on the bed and laughed.

   Matt hadn't lied…exactly. Jeff had been the one to say there had been no animals in the room. And anyway, there hadn't been dogs in the room.

   Edge didn't ask whether there had been and wild animals in the room.

   The eldest Hardy winced slightly as he looked over the bed. Short dark hairs were spread everywhere…"Jeff! It's your turn to clean up this mess!"

   Buffy watched as her friend quickly settled into the front seat of the bus. She debated joining her, when she saw the expression on Will's face. Before she could properly decide, a warm body pressed into her and a voice whispered in her ear. "I suggest you sit before people start squishing you." Taking the guy's advice, she slid into the nearest seat before she turned to actually see him. He glanced around the vehicle sheepishly before glancing at the seat next to her. "Uh…can I sit here?"

   She smiled. "If you want to."

   He smiled back; sitting in the seat so a blond behind him could pass by. The man held out his hand. "The name's Y2J."

   "Really? I don't know too many people with initials for names," Buffy said, accepting his hand. She mentally kicked herself. _How _stupid_ sounding was that, Summers?_

   He laughed. "Remind me to introduce you to RVD. Or HBK."

   "Geez, this company is weird."

   "You haven't even got to 'aitch aitch aitch' yet," he pouted.

   Buffy's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "There is actually a guy called HHH?"

   He shrugged. "Actually, RVD is just short for Rob Van Dam, HBK is Shawn Michaels, and HHH is usually called Triple H or Hunter Hearst Helmsley."

   The girl made a face. "I can understand why he goes by Triple H. But how do you get HBK from Shawn Michaels?"

   "Heartbreak Kid."

   "That'd work."

   "And Y2J is just a nickname. The name's Chris."

   Buffy grinned. "A real name, finally."

   "So do I get your real name?" the guy…_Chris_…questioned, raising his hand as if to run it through his hair. He gave her a self-mocking roll of the eyes as he realized it was in a ponytail.

   "Maybe," she said coyly, glancing out the window as they stopped at a traffic light.

   Chris smiled.

   Willow was aware of someone slipping into the seat beside her. She ignored them.

   That was until the person grabbed her arm.

   "Hey!" she protested. Turning, she saw Mark staring at her.

   "What have you told people?" he asked. Willow grimaced slightly. His cologne smelt like lemons.

   She hated lemons.

   As his words sunk in her brow wrinkled in confusion. "I haven't told anyone anything."

   "Don't lie to me Willow."

   "I'm not!" she insisted. "The only people I've talked to since I got here was Buffy, you, this guy called Chuck and a blonde I ran into in the hallway."

   Mark frowned. "Blonde?"

   "Yeah, a blonde. As in dumb as a?" Willow said sarcastically. She was suddenly confronted with just how big Mark really was.

   "Describe him," Mark commanded.

   "Uh, as I said, blonde shoulder-length hair. Green eyes, kinda like mine. Singlet and cargoes. Anything else?" Willow asked. She was getting real uncomfortable now.

   Mark looked stumped for a minute before an expression of rage passed over his features. "About six-one, got a constant wrinkle on his forehead?"

   "Uh…more six foot," she said, shifting in her seat. She was totally aware of Mark's scrutiny.

   Mark cursed.

   "What's wrong?" Willow questioned in concern.

   The man turned his gaze back at her and she was struck both the darkness and the hatred in his eyes. He spoke slowly. "If you ever see him again, you will turn around and walk away."

   "What are you, my mother?" Willow asked, already rebelling against the idea. Why, she didn't know. It was probably that nasty rebellious phase her mother kept insisting she was going through rearing its ugly head again.

   Mark slowly lost the look. "I'm sorry Wills," he sighed. "But he's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

   "Who is he?" Willow persisted, but Mark had already slid out of the seat.

   A short haired brunette poked his head over the chair in front.

   "I apologise for eavesdropping," he said seriously. "But I know who you were just describing. Trust me, he's not all that dangerous…without provocation. Then he goes a little nuts."

   "Who is he?" she repeated.

   The guy looked wary for a moment. "Mark'll kill me," he warned.

   Willow gave an easy shrug. "I'll tell him I found it on a website somewhere."

   Serious Dude nodded uncertainly. "Well, he's not usually like that," he said. "His hair is dyed a heap of weird colours for one thing. His name is Jeff. Jeff Hardy."

   Before Willow could say anything, Serious Dude continued, "But I wouldn't go near him all the same."

   "Why not?"

   "Let's just say your cousin or whatever and Jeff Hardy aren't exactly bosom buddies. Mark tell you about him and Triple H?"

   Willow shook her head.

   Serious Dude shrugged. "Well, they hate each other. Loathe each other. Can't stand the ground the other one walks on. That's what Mark and Jeff Hardy are like. Seriously hate each other."

So we get a bit more insight into the Hardy mystery…I'm still taking advice as to the romances here. There _will_ be a Buffy romance, as well as a Willow. Question is, who?

MiSERY HaRDY: I'll explain in further chappies…bit more detail, background stories and stuff.

To angeleyes, Iaren, Kittie Kittie Kittie: Tankies!

monica: As has been said, tankies! And the actual wrestling part will have little to do with it (although it might be a little hard to get in the beginning) but if you ever need any story on any wrestling character, I'm only an email away.

Sk8terBratz0057: I'll take him into consideration…hmmm, I've never written him in before, would be fun…

bellerophon:…wow. One of my fav writers on fanfiction.net has reviewed! WOOOOOOOO!…um…yeah… And I know what you mean about the Faith/Willow/Buffy thing, and although I personally can take it and even like it in moderation you need some variety once in a while. As for the pairing, you never know…

SpitefulHope: Yea…double take time, wasn't it?

OnThaEdge487: I know…Matt/Sean was a little disturbing for me too. Kinda weird to do something other than the (less legal) pairing I usually do with Matt.

Kamikazee: Too many stories do make her into a bitch, don't they? But there is going to be some Buffy-bitch in here…kinda…but it is justified. Everyone's hoarding a secret inner-bitch, why not the Buffster?