Title: The Road Less Traveled (30/?)
Author: Esquirella
Rating: R (for violence in some chapters.)
Disclaimer: I own the Rio character and have written other stories with her. I own all non WWE characters. But I do not own the wrestlers. (Unfortunately. They are so cute!)
Synopsis: Thanks for the review! In this chapter: Justin has a huge problem with Shannon. Matt delves into Rio's psyche. Fury wakes up. And Henry gets an offer he can't refuse.
Distribution: Just in case anyone's interested in it, please ask me first. More than likely, I will agree.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Status quo on the first Rio stories. They're coming. I've gotten a few feedbacks on Shannon's behavior in the story. He is being pretty possessive. It will be explained why in later chapters. I'd just like to say that I don't know how Shannon is in real life and I've never met him. (In fact, on the slim chance he ever reads this: Please accept my apologies if you find this offensive.) This portrayal is fictional and not meant in any way to represent the real Shannon Moore's personality.
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Justin walked into the living room and set his small bag down. He looked over to Sven who sat in front of the fire contemplating something deeply.
"What is wrong?" he asked the blonde man, who looked up as if slightly startled by his companion's sudden presence.
"Nothing, really," Sven smiled. "Just an interesting new twist in our young ward's life."
"Rio?" Justin queried. "She is okay, is she not?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then what is it?"
"You may want to sit down for this," Sven began carefully and Justin complied with a frown. "It seems Rio has formed an attachment."
"What kind of attachment?" Justin demanded in an icy tone. "Another friendship?"
"Um, no."
Justin's eyes narrowed, as he quickly grasped what Sven was saying, dreading the conclusion he reached. "She has formed a bond?" Sven nodded, watching him carefully. "It is that Hardy boy, is it not? The wild one."
"No," Sven said softly. "It is Shannon."
"The one she saved?" Justin raised a derisive eyebrow. "I thought he was angry with her."
"Apparently not. He has decided he wants her."
"Well, we will just have to assist him in un-deciding then."
"We cannot interfere, my heart."
"The HELL we cannot," the dark-haired man growled. "She is not ready for a relationship. Particularly with someone who just DECIDED he wanted her!"
"I have spoken with her," Sven said patiently. "She has made it plain that she wishes us to respect her decision on this matter. We do not want to seem too heavy-handed in this, Justin. It is how we pushed her away to begin with. At least emotionally."
"We saved her life. TWICE!" Justin exploded uncharacteristically, leaping to feet and prowling the room.
"Yes, but he has brought her BACK to life."
Justin stopped and looked at Sven pleadingly. "We cannot let harm come to her over this, Sven."
"I have spoken with him," Sven assured his mate. "I believe the situation is under control for the moment. We will monitor it closely, however."
"You can be sure that I will do just that."
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A few days later, Rio stretched into her exercises slowly. She'd been training more intensely than ever recently and since her first title defense was coming in two days, she wanted to be sure to use the time constructively. She looked around the gym uncertainly, not used to training in an actual facility. Shannon and Matt were working out on the weight equipment nearby surreptitiously glancing at her every now and again to be sure she hadn't skipped out on them. She looked down at her bare arms and felt, well, naked. She'd never taken off her silver paint in front of anyone before and marveled at the new experience. Shannon and Matt had argued that the constant coverage couldn't be healthy and she'd eventually given in. She'd drawn the line at her latex mask, wig and glasses, though.
"Ya okay there, yoga girl?" Matt asked with a smirk.
"Do not knock it," she returned. "Learning these motions has been the cornerstone of my ring strategy."
"Don'tcha need t' work th' muscles, too?"
Rio pulled out of her last warm up move and straightened before she answered him. "I work them every morning usually."
"I neva see ya do," Shannon smiled.
"I have had to adjust my routine to accommodate certain distractions," she replied sweetly. "I have been working them in the afternoons or evenings lately, while we are apart."
"Why? Are ya 'fraid I'll let out yo' secrets?"
She grinned at him widely as she leaned into her more athletic moves. "No, I am not," she said. "I just prefer to do them alone. I have always been that way since I began training with Justin and Sven."
At the mention of their names, Shannon scowled deeply. She knew he was still uneasy with her 'family' and that he was concerned they would try to separate them. She looked at Matt who was watching her from one of the machines as he began to work his upper arms. He was speculative about her training and appeared to be seeking a way to ask her about it without offending her. In fact, he had been very cunning in his efforts to get closer to her without raising her suspicions. She found it amusing that he thought she wouldn't notice.
"You can ask, Matt," she said reassuringly and earning a surprised look from the elder Hardy boy. "I will answer your queries as completely as I can." She heard Shannon's snicker at her statement and knew he was as amused as she.
"I jus' wondered how ya always kno' when yo' opponents are behind ya, no matta what," Matt said carefully.
"You are referring to my ability to sense their whereabouts," she stated smoothly and he nodded. "It is easy, really, when you take all of the factors into consideration."
"Wha' factas?" Shannon asked, intrigued.
"Well, it is a combination of senses. Not all five, mind you. I prefer NOT to taste them, after all," she grinned as she stretched into another position. Matt and Shannon chuckled as they listened. "I always stop to feel the wind about me. No matter how quick they are, they always make some breeze that lets me know where they are."
"You can feel th' breeze with ev'rythin' tha's goin' on?" Matt asked.
"Absolutely," she said. "When one practices, one can feel the slightest breeze virtually anywhere."
"So i's all in th' breeze then," Shannon concluded.
"Not quite," Rio went one moving into another position. "There is also the sound they make."
"What if yo' opponent makes no soun'?" Matt asked completely enthralled with the topic now.
"There is always a sound," she replied. "It may be hard to discern, but it is always there. Maybe it is a small 'swoosh' or a fluttering noise, but it exists."
"So i's a combination o' wind an' soun'?" Shannon asked.
"Do not forget smell," she reminded him.
"Smell?" both men said in unison, as if the idea repelled them.
"Yes, smell," she laughed. "Depending upon what they have eaten, the smell could be discreet or strong. Most of my opponents have a strong smell, being the fatty meat-eating carnivores that they are. Especially Sasquatch. I do not even want to know the state of the roadkill he consumed," she shuddered delicately.
Both men looked fascinated and appalled at the same time. "So ya don' hafta see 'em to . . . well, 'see' 'em," Matt concluded.
"That is correct," she said happy that he understood. "Sven was quite adept at training me to use my senses well. So far, no opponent has been able to sneak up on me in the ring. Even when I am facing two of them."
Matt smiled, evidently remembering the first time he'd seen her fight. "It was incredible t' behold." She shrugged at him modestly.
"I wish ya'd stop fightin', tho'," Shannon said sadly. "Henry's a slippery bastahd an' I'm vera worried 'boutchew."
Rio finished her cool down stretches and walked over to him, putting her arms about his waist. "I know that you are, Shannon," she sighed. "But I have to finish this."
"Why?"
"It is important that I earn this money on my own and settle my accounts," she explained. "After that, I will 'disappear' from the Series forever and we can get on with our lives."
"I 'ssume ya mean 'our life' . . . as in t'getha," he said with finality.
Rio looked over his shoulder to see Matt smirking at them again. "What else would I mean?" she asked enigmatically.
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Henry looked over his books in his office, hoping not to be disturbed. He was still reeling from Fury's disappearance, hating to have such a loose end running, well, loose. If the former champion survived and was able to tell health authorities what had happened to him, Henry's business would be in serious jeopardy. He should have had his men just shoot the redheaded fighter. And what should be done about the current champion? He contemplated Rio carefully. If he got rid of her now, he would raise more eyebrows. But if he kept her too long she would undoubtedly screw up his plans. He decided to stay on schedule with his plot to get rid of her, though he may choose an alternate tool to do so. His current group of favorite fighters has proven ineffective against her in the past. A knock sounded, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he growled glaring at the door. It opened to reveal a dark haired man in a skintight black leather one-piece leotard with a matching mask, accented with golden embroidery. The man was lean and lithe with a lethal air about him. It was why Henry chose to call him Phantom.
"What can I do for you?" Henry asked warily. He was glad this particular fighter was amenable to his schemes, as he would hate to be on the receiving end of an attack from the dark warrior.
"It is what I can do for you," the man answered in a tone as smooth as silk.
Henry raised his eyebrows questioningly, saying nothing. He knew it was better to let the other do the speaking for him. It helped to keep the pecking order intact.
"I can assist you with your problem."
"And which problem might that be?" he asked the fighter.
"The problem with your current champion," the dark man said. "I think I know how to get to her . . . when you are ready to be rid of her."
"Do tell," Henry encouraged gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
The dark man shook his head and remained standing motionless. "This will not take long."
"All right," Henry said. "Tell me what you know."
"She is not invulnerable anymore. She has a weak point."
"Does she now?" Henry was captivated. "What is it?"
"It isn't a what," the man revealed in a lower tone. "It's a who."
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Fury woke with a huge headache and wondered if he was dead yet. He looked around the room and noticed he wasn't in the hospital anymore. He glanced to the doorway and saw a tall man with long blonde hair regarding him quizzically.
"So you are up," the man said in a foreign accent. "How do you feel?"
Fury didn't know what to make of this man and his current situation. Was he another one of Henry's goons sent to kill him? No, that didn't make any sense. Why would he still be alive if that was the case. Still, how could he trust a stranger in his present state of health. Then again, how could he not?
"I'm not exactly sure," the fighter answered slowly.
The man chuckled and entered the room to check the IV attached to Fury's arm. "I understand," he said. "You are surprised to still be alive, are you not?"
Fury just nodded noncommittally, watching the man's every move.
"I am not here to do you any harm," the man said assessing his patient's thoughts accurately. "I want to help you.?"
"Why?"
"You are in a position to help a dear friend of mine."
Author: Esquirella
Rating: R (for violence in some chapters.)
Disclaimer: I own the Rio character and have written other stories with her. I own all non WWE characters. But I do not own the wrestlers. (Unfortunately. They are so cute!)
Synopsis: Thanks for the review! In this chapter: Justin has a huge problem with Shannon. Matt delves into Rio's psyche. Fury wakes up. And Henry gets an offer he can't refuse.
Distribution: Just in case anyone's interested in it, please ask me first. More than likely, I will agree.
--------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Status quo on the first Rio stories. They're coming. I've gotten a few feedbacks on Shannon's behavior in the story. He is being pretty possessive. It will be explained why in later chapters. I'd just like to say that I don't know how Shannon is in real life and I've never met him. (In fact, on the slim chance he ever reads this: Please accept my apologies if you find this offensive.) This portrayal is fictional and not meant in any way to represent the real Shannon Moore's personality.
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Justin walked into the living room and set his small bag down. He looked over to Sven who sat in front of the fire contemplating something deeply.
"What is wrong?" he asked the blonde man, who looked up as if slightly startled by his companion's sudden presence.
"Nothing, really," Sven smiled. "Just an interesting new twist in our young ward's life."
"Rio?" Justin queried. "She is okay, is she not?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then what is it?"
"You may want to sit down for this," Sven began carefully and Justin complied with a frown. "It seems Rio has formed an attachment."
"What kind of attachment?" Justin demanded in an icy tone. "Another friendship?"
"Um, no."
Justin's eyes narrowed, as he quickly grasped what Sven was saying, dreading the conclusion he reached. "She has formed a bond?" Sven nodded, watching him carefully. "It is that Hardy boy, is it not? The wild one."
"No," Sven said softly. "It is Shannon."
"The one she saved?" Justin raised a derisive eyebrow. "I thought he was angry with her."
"Apparently not. He has decided he wants her."
"Well, we will just have to assist him in un-deciding then."
"We cannot interfere, my heart."
"The HELL we cannot," the dark-haired man growled. "She is not ready for a relationship. Particularly with someone who just DECIDED he wanted her!"
"I have spoken with her," Sven said patiently. "She has made it plain that she wishes us to respect her decision on this matter. We do not want to seem too heavy-handed in this, Justin. It is how we pushed her away to begin with. At least emotionally."
"We saved her life. TWICE!" Justin exploded uncharacteristically, leaping to feet and prowling the room.
"Yes, but he has brought her BACK to life."
Justin stopped and looked at Sven pleadingly. "We cannot let harm come to her over this, Sven."
"I have spoken with him," Sven assured his mate. "I believe the situation is under control for the moment. We will monitor it closely, however."
"You can be sure that I will do just that."
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A few days later, Rio stretched into her exercises slowly. She'd been training more intensely than ever recently and since her first title defense was coming in two days, she wanted to be sure to use the time constructively. She looked around the gym uncertainly, not used to training in an actual facility. Shannon and Matt were working out on the weight equipment nearby surreptitiously glancing at her every now and again to be sure she hadn't skipped out on them. She looked down at her bare arms and felt, well, naked. She'd never taken off her silver paint in front of anyone before and marveled at the new experience. Shannon and Matt had argued that the constant coverage couldn't be healthy and she'd eventually given in. She'd drawn the line at her latex mask, wig and glasses, though.
"Ya okay there, yoga girl?" Matt asked with a smirk.
"Do not knock it," she returned. "Learning these motions has been the cornerstone of my ring strategy."
"Don'tcha need t' work th' muscles, too?"
Rio pulled out of her last warm up move and straightened before she answered him. "I work them every morning usually."
"I neva see ya do," Shannon smiled.
"I have had to adjust my routine to accommodate certain distractions," she replied sweetly. "I have been working them in the afternoons or evenings lately, while we are apart."
"Why? Are ya 'fraid I'll let out yo' secrets?"
She grinned at him widely as she leaned into her more athletic moves. "No, I am not," she said. "I just prefer to do them alone. I have always been that way since I began training with Justin and Sven."
At the mention of their names, Shannon scowled deeply. She knew he was still uneasy with her 'family' and that he was concerned they would try to separate them. She looked at Matt who was watching her from one of the machines as he began to work his upper arms. He was speculative about her training and appeared to be seeking a way to ask her about it without offending her. In fact, he had been very cunning in his efforts to get closer to her without raising her suspicions. She found it amusing that he thought she wouldn't notice.
"You can ask, Matt," she said reassuringly and earning a surprised look from the elder Hardy boy. "I will answer your queries as completely as I can." She heard Shannon's snicker at her statement and knew he was as amused as she.
"I jus' wondered how ya always kno' when yo' opponents are behind ya, no matta what," Matt said carefully.
"You are referring to my ability to sense their whereabouts," she stated smoothly and he nodded. "It is easy, really, when you take all of the factors into consideration."
"Wha' factas?" Shannon asked, intrigued.
"Well, it is a combination of senses. Not all five, mind you. I prefer NOT to taste them, after all," she grinned as she stretched into another position. Matt and Shannon chuckled as they listened. "I always stop to feel the wind about me. No matter how quick they are, they always make some breeze that lets me know where they are."
"You can feel th' breeze with ev'rythin' tha's goin' on?" Matt asked.
"Absolutely," she said. "When one practices, one can feel the slightest breeze virtually anywhere."
"So i's all in th' breeze then," Shannon concluded.
"Not quite," Rio went one moving into another position. "There is also the sound they make."
"What if yo' opponent makes no soun'?" Matt asked completely enthralled with the topic now.
"There is always a sound," she replied. "It may be hard to discern, but it is always there. Maybe it is a small 'swoosh' or a fluttering noise, but it exists."
"So i's a combination o' wind an' soun'?" Shannon asked.
"Do not forget smell," she reminded him.
"Smell?" both men said in unison, as if the idea repelled them.
"Yes, smell," she laughed. "Depending upon what they have eaten, the smell could be discreet or strong. Most of my opponents have a strong smell, being the fatty meat-eating carnivores that they are. Especially Sasquatch. I do not even want to know the state of the roadkill he consumed," she shuddered delicately.
Both men looked fascinated and appalled at the same time. "So ya don' hafta see 'em to . . . well, 'see' 'em," Matt concluded.
"That is correct," she said happy that he understood. "Sven was quite adept at training me to use my senses well. So far, no opponent has been able to sneak up on me in the ring. Even when I am facing two of them."
Matt smiled, evidently remembering the first time he'd seen her fight. "It was incredible t' behold." She shrugged at him modestly.
"I wish ya'd stop fightin', tho'," Shannon said sadly. "Henry's a slippery bastahd an' I'm vera worried 'boutchew."
Rio finished her cool down stretches and walked over to him, putting her arms about his waist. "I know that you are, Shannon," she sighed. "But I have to finish this."
"Why?"
"It is important that I earn this money on my own and settle my accounts," she explained. "After that, I will 'disappear' from the Series forever and we can get on with our lives."
"I 'ssume ya mean 'our life' . . . as in t'getha," he said with finality.
Rio looked over his shoulder to see Matt smirking at them again. "What else would I mean?" she asked enigmatically.
--------------------------------------
Henry looked over his books in his office, hoping not to be disturbed. He was still reeling from Fury's disappearance, hating to have such a loose end running, well, loose. If the former champion survived and was able to tell health authorities what had happened to him, Henry's business would be in serious jeopardy. He should have had his men just shoot the redheaded fighter. And what should be done about the current champion? He contemplated Rio carefully. If he got rid of her now, he would raise more eyebrows. But if he kept her too long she would undoubtedly screw up his plans. He decided to stay on schedule with his plot to get rid of her, though he may choose an alternate tool to do so. His current group of favorite fighters has proven ineffective against her in the past. A knock sounded, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he growled glaring at the door. It opened to reveal a dark haired man in a skintight black leather one-piece leotard with a matching mask, accented with golden embroidery. The man was lean and lithe with a lethal air about him. It was why Henry chose to call him Phantom.
"What can I do for you?" Henry asked warily. He was glad this particular fighter was amenable to his schemes, as he would hate to be on the receiving end of an attack from the dark warrior.
"It is what I can do for you," the man answered in a tone as smooth as silk.
Henry raised his eyebrows questioningly, saying nothing. He knew it was better to let the other do the speaking for him. It helped to keep the pecking order intact.
"I can assist you with your problem."
"And which problem might that be?" he asked the fighter.
"The problem with your current champion," the dark man said. "I think I know how to get to her . . . when you are ready to be rid of her."
"Do tell," Henry encouraged gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
The dark man shook his head and remained standing motionless. "This will not take long."
"All right," Henry said. "Tell me what you know."
"She is not invulnerable anymore. She has a weak point."
"Does she now?" Henry was captivated. "What is it?"
"It isn't a what," the man revealed in a lower tone. "It's a who."
--------------------------------------
Fury woke with a huge headache and wondered if he was dead yet. He looked around the room and noticed he wasn't in the hospital anymore. He glanced to the doorway and saw a tall man with long blonde hair regarding him quizzically.
"So you are up," the man said in a foreign accent. "How do you feel?"
Fury didn't know what to make of this man and his current situation. Was he another one of Henry's goons sent to kill him? No, that didn't make any sense. Why would he still be alive if that was the case. Still, how could he trust a stranger in his present state of health. Then again, how could he not?
"I'm not exactly sure," the fighter answered slowly.
The man chuckled and entered the room to check the IV attached to Fury's arm. "I understand," he said. "You are surprised to still be alive, are you not?"
Fury just nodded noncommittally, watching the man's every move.
"I am not here to do you any harm," the man said assessing his patient's thoughts accurately. "I want to help you.?"
"Why?"
"You are in a position to help a dear friend of mine."