Dude, I think someone ought to write a fanfic based solely on previous reviews. I'd like to. Some of the reviews I get are so intense/funny/insightful/complex that they'd make great stories. On another note, did anyone see Survivor Series last night? What were Vince and Shawn doing, having a bleed-off? And was anyone else begging for them to just stop hurting each other during Kane and Shane's match? I thought I could handle violence, but, Kane's head was just hitting that ambulance a little too hard. The funniest part was when Shane was climbing up on top of the ambulance to jump off and my dad is in the living room screaming, "You're a billionaire, kid! You don't have to do this crap to yourself!" Yeah, God love the McMahons, for they are some crazy rich white folk. Anyway, I was disappointed with the outcome of Lita's match, obviously, but I do not fear. She'll have the belt soon enough.
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When Batista came in at midnight to switch off on guard duty, Lita was nowhere to be found. "What happened?" he asked of Orton, who was stalking out, half-covering his face. He only pointed to the bed, and slammed the door behind him.
Batista walked over to the side of the bed and squatted down. He could see Lita peeking out from the shadows. She was not only under the bed, but also squeezed up flat against where the headboard joined the wall.
"What are you doing down there?"
"Pretending to hide; what does it look like? Now go away and let me imagine that you don't know I'm down here."
"Why hide where everyone knows where you are?"
"Can you reach me? Can you pull me out?"
"No."
"Neither could Orton. That's the idea. The one advantage to y'all being so much bigger than me. I can fit; you can't. Therefore, you can't get me."
"That explains the black eye Randy was so desperately trying to hide from me. I guess he came at you and you knocked him then scrambled under there." There was no answer.
Batista sighed and took a seat in the nearby armchair. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"If I had a dime for every time I heard that one..." Lita snorted. "I guess I could afford to have you all kidnapped, instead. Besides, that's really funny coming from you. If you haven't noticed, we're enemies. You've kidnapped me, you're helping keep me captive...what do you want me to believe?"
"I want you to believe what you yourself said back there in the limo. This is just a job for me."
"Then you're very good at your work."
"Have I made any effort to harm you physically? Think hard, and tell me honestly."
"Just a week ago you were holding my arms for Triple H to hit me. Not long after you came back."
"I knew he wasn't going to hit you. We'd planned that moment for Matt to run in and knock me with a phony chairshot. Or did you think your little cruiserweight had really saved you from us two big guys for real?"
A pale hand appeared, and then an arm, and a shoulder as Lita pulled herself out from under the bed. With relative composure and dignity, she sat up on the bed and smoothed her hair and clothes out.
"Pretty dusty under there?"
"Not so much as you'd think. The maids must have been immaculate."
Batista snorted. "Only the best for the Champ."
"Yeah."
There was a heavy silence.
"...Why are you doing this to me?"
Batista looked up, startled at the vulnerability in her voice. "...Why won't you let me go? We really, we just, we just wanted a fair shot, you know? And for that, I get kidnapped? You seem sane, maybe it's possible, but I don't trust any of the others."
"Are you saying you trust me?"
"Not at all. You're just a welcome change to Orton. He's been trying to prove his masculinity to me ever since I made the insinuations about him in the limo."
Batista was quiet. "I'll make sure he gets sent out on errands tomorrow with H. You won't have to worry about him all day."
"No, I'll have to worry about you. Or that creepy old bastard Flair. Nothing you can say is going to make me feel any better, if that's your goal. How can you expect me to feel safe or content given the situation?"
"I don't," he sighed. "I was just trying to make things a little better for you."
"Then get me the f*ck out of here.
"I can't."
"So I was right. You are a coward."
"It's not that simple."
"Forget it. Screw it. Just give me a little bit of space so I can get to sleep without having to think about the fact that you're sitting there watching me."
She lay down on the bed facing away from him, hugging the spare pillow against her. He could tell by her slight, shaking shoulders that she was crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The boys fidgeted anxiously in the lockerroom the following night. RAW went live in five minutes. They had yet to see or hear from Lita.
Rob paced the floor, punching one fist into another. "Stop. You're making me nervous," Spike said agitatedly.
"You should be nervous," Raven muttered. "This is a bad sign."
"This isn't like her," Rob said aloud to himself as he walked. "She should be here by now. She wouldn't abandon us."
"She already abandoned us," Kane whispered lowly from his dark corner. "She betrayed me," he said more to himself. "Just like everyone else."
"That's not true!" Rob yelled. "She'd be here if she could. Something's holding her back. Something's wrong."
Bischoff picked that sensitive moment to burst in rudely. "Aah, I see the women's champion has still not made an appearance. Too bad. I guess she'll have to forfeit her title match to Gail tonight. When, if, you do see her again, will you notify her for me that she has a belt to hand over? Oh, and Spike, my apologies, but we're having to reschedule your title match against Triple H until next week. The Champ just can't make it tonight."
The team seethed silently at Bischoff's blatant injustice. Fighting him unorganized as they were would only make it worse, and there was no one there to channel their strength, give it force and direction. She was still missing.
"Oh, by the way Rob. Your match against Orton is first. You'd better be getting out there. See ya' guys!"
Rob waited until he left, then hurriedly tied his boots on and did some quick stretching. "Be careful out there, man," Justin warned.
"You should be more worried about Orton. I'm sure that little Evolution punk knows something about what's going on, and I'm going to beat it out of him." He strode out of the room and made it to the top of the ramp just as his music was hitting.
Rob stood in the center of the ring, waiting for his opponent. He couldn't hide his confusion when Evolution's music hit and Flair and Orton walked out in their street clothes. "What's going on?" he mouthed, arms wide.
Orton sneered at him, full of self-pleasure. Grabbing a mic, he announced, "Sorry, Rob, but we're going to have to interrupt this scheduled match for an important announcement from your World Heavyweight Champion."
The Titantron screen flickered and Triple H appeared, smiling.
"Good evening. I'm appearing via live satellite feed from, well..." he chuckled. "Where from isn't useful for you to know. However, I am virtually present in order to make negotiations. A trade-off, of sorts. You see, I'm tired of your little team going after my championship belt, my trophy. So I've taken it upon myself to deprive you of your most...beloved...trophy."
He moved back from the camera to include the rest of the room in the screen. Lita was sitting, head down, tied to a chair.
"Now I have this pretty little trophy for myself," he leaned toward her, one hand stroking her cheek. Lita spat at him and turned her face away. He grabbed her hair, wrenched her head up so that she was staring defiantly into the camera. The view was clear enough that Rob could see one solitary tear trickle like a diamond down her cheek. He shook his head in pain, willing himself to disbelief.
"Look at your trophy, Rob. I'm not giving her up. But I will promise to take care of her. If you agree to my conditions."
Rob nodded, and mouthed, "Let me talk to her," pointing to himself and to the screen to get his point across.
Triple H nodded. "I thought you would make that request, and, from the goodness of my heart, I had already decided to grant it." He stood up, walking away from the camera, and whispered in Lita's ear, "Don't try anything," before heading off to the far side of the room to watch.
"Hey Li," Rob tried hesitantly.
She made herself smile for him, and nodded. "Hey."
"Are you..." his throat caught on his words, and he swallowed down a sob. "Are you okay?"
"I'm all right," she lied, hoping he wouldn't catch the fading bruise on her forehead from Sunday night, half-hidden behind her hair.
"Have they...have they hur..." he ducked his head, covering his eyes with one hand.
"I'm okay," Lita lied again, less convincingly this time as tears sprang to her eyes. "I miss you, all of y'all. Oh, please don't cry," she begged as he broke down.
"No llora," she pleaded again, and Rob looked up at her face on the screen, and through the two monitors and miles of wire and equipment, a look of understanding passed between them. "Rob, escucha a mi. Necesito decir este muy rapido." (Rob, listen to me. I need to speak very quickly.)
Rob nodded, focusing intently.
"Ellos van a atacar Kane con agua. Mi novio..." (They're going to attack Kane with water. My boyfriend...) she made a disgusted face. "...viejo los dijo. Bastardo. Cualquier, tu tienes advertir Kane." (...My old boyfriend told them. Bastard. Whatever, you have to warn Kane."
"El advertira. Pero, ?donde estas?" (I will. But where are you?)
"Estoy a un balneario a traves de la hospital de Wake Occidental. Estoy muy acerca de mi casa. Ven por mi. Rob," (I'm at a hotel across from Western Wake Hospital. I'm very near my home. Come for me. Rob...) she looked into the camera desperately. "Salvame. Por favor...Te amo. Te necesito, mas ahora de antes." (Save me. Please...I love you. I need you, more now than ever before.)
"Estoy veniendo. Te amo." (I'm coming. I love you.)
"That's more than enough," Triple H's voice cut in harshly. "Though I must say, that was an endearing little exchange. Of course, to understand what was going on, I had to walk over there in the next room, watch RAW, and go to the trouble of selecting the translation service on the remote and read what you two were saying in English subtitles. So..." he smirked at Rob's devastated expression. "By the time you and the rest of your little buddies even make it into this state, we'll be well on our way to somewhere new." The humor left his expression and his voice. "And your stubborn little b*tch here is going to be nice and unconscious for the entire trip. You know our demands. Do not screw with us."
The screen went black.
Triple H turned violently to Lita, knocking the chair she was trapped in over so that she fell flat on her back, her head bumping painfully. Hunter leaned over into her face. "I tried to be polite. I tried to treat you civilly." His voice was merciless and rough as sandpaper, his breathing harsh and ragged. "But you've figuratively and literally spit in my face for all my kind accomodations. So you've revoked your rights to be treated as anything other than what you are, a conniving little whore." His mouth crashed down upon hers, his tongue shoving down. She coughed, trying to breathe, and bit down, hard.
Triple H jerked away, staring at her in surprise as his hand trailed to his mouth. "I can taste his blood," she pondered thoughtfully. "I really got him good that time."
"I guess I deserved that," he apologized sarcastically. "There's still time...perhaps I should have bought a lady *dinner* first." He clapped his hands twice, sharply. Batista appeared at the doorway. He glanced down in surprise at where Lita still lay tied to a chair on the floor, but quickly drew himself back up to attention.
"Dave, when will dinner be ready?"
"The cook has already prepared it."
"Oh, it's 9:30 already? Well, would you send a plate up for Miss Dumas?"
"Absolutely."
Batista left, and Triple H proceeded to untie Lita, his hands lingering a little too long in all the inappopriate places. She was glad when Batista had returned with the dinner cart.
He wheeled the cart in front of her, removing the lid off the silver platter to reveal a thick sirloin. "Check out the quality of this dinnerware," he informed her. "Real silver. You can tell by how nice and heavy it is."
Lita met his eyes expressionlessly. His face was equally devoid of emotion. "See? Nothing but the best for Evolution," Triple H bragged. Batista smiled at his leader, but none of it reached the coldness in his eyes. Dave left the room and left them alone.
Lita picked at her food. "Come on now, you don't have all night," Hunter prodded her.
"I'm surprised you didn't rush us away as soon as you found out what I'd told RVD."
"It will take them hours to get from Anaheim to here."
"It would take them hours to get from Anaheim to here," Lita agreed, taking a bit of her steak. "...If they were in Anaheim."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, taking a swallow of wine. "Just that, we're in Anaheim next week. You must have checked the schedule wrong."
"Then where are they this week?" Triple H's voice didn't have the full amount of his useful confidence.
"Pontiac."
"You're bluffing," he didn't sound like he believed it.
"Am I?" she took another bite of steak, smiling at him.
"Oh, sh*t."
He jumped for his feet, heading for the door. "DAVE! We need to leave!"
"Oh, Champ?"
He turned to her, snarling. "What?"
The silver platter connected with his skull quite nicely.
"Come to think of it, I do think they're in Anaheim this week. My bad." Lita strolled from the room.
Batista was waiting for her at the front door. "He getting up any time soon?" he asked, his back still towards her. Lita shook her head, realized he couldn't see her, and said, "No."
"Good. You still got that big plate?"
"Yeah."
"Then you'd better make this believable. You're gonna have to hit me pretty hard, especially if you're gonna get a knot to form there. They have to believe that you got me from behind before I even knew what was coming."
"I know. They'd never buy that I got you in a fair battle. Even if I was armed."
"Exactly. So don't hold back."
"Thanks. But don't worry," Lita said as she swung the platter down with all her strength.
Batista hit the floor with a thud. "Sorry about that," she leaned down to pat his face. Squaring her shoulders, she marched off down the highway. She was sure they'd have a phone she could use at the hospital.
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Sorry if that chapter was a little too long, but I just loved how it was all playing out in my head, so I just let it run. Anyway, let me know what you think.
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When Batista came in at midnight to switch off on guard duty, Lita was nowhere to be found. "What happened?" he asked of Orton, who was stalking out, half-covering his face. He only pointed to the bed, and slammed the door behind him.
Batista walked over to the side of the bed and squatted down. He could see Lita peeking out from the shadows. She was not only under the bed, but also squeezed up flat against where the headboard joined the wall.
"What are you doing down there?"
"Pretending to hide; what does it look like? Now go away and let me imagine that you don't know I'm down here."
"Why hide where everyone knows where you are?"
"Can you reach me? Can you pull me out?"
"No."
"Neither could Orton. That's the idea. The one advantage to y'all being so much bigger than me. I can fit; you can't. Therefore, you can't get me."
"That explains the black eye Randy was so desperately trying to hide from me. I guess he came at you and you knocked him then scrambled under there." There was no answer.
Batista sighed and took a seat in the nearby armchair. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"If I had a dime for every time I heard that one..." Lita snorted. "I guess I could afford to have you all kidnapped, instead. Besides, that's really funny coming from you. If you haven't noticed, we're enemies. You've kidnapped me, you're helping keep me captive...what do you want me to believe?"
"I want you to believe what you yourself said back there in the limo. This is just a job for me."
"Then you're very good at your work."
"Have I made any effort to harm you physically? Think hard, and tell me honestly."
"Just a week ago you were holding my arms for Triple H to hit me. Not long after you came back."
"I knew he wasn't going to hit you. We'd planned that moment for Matt to run in and knock me with a phony chairshot. Or did you think your little cruiserweight had really saved you from us two big guys for real?"
A pale hand appeared, and then an arm, and a shoulder as Lita pulled herself out from under the bed. With relative composure and dignity, she sat up on the bed and smoothed her hair and clothes out.
"Pretty dusty under there?"
"Not so much as you'd think. The maids must have been immaculate."
Batista snorted. "Only the best for the Champ."
"Yeah."
There was a heavy silence.
"...Why are you doing this to me?"
Batista looked up, startled at the vulnerability in her voice. "...Why won't you let me go? We really, we just, we just wanted a fair shot, you know? And for that, I get kidnapped? You seem sane, maybe it's possible, but I don't trust any of the others."
"Are you saying you trust me?"
"Not at all. You're just a welcome change to Orton. He's been trying to prove his masculinity to me ever since I made the insinuations about him in the limo."
Batista was quiet. "I'll make sure he gets sent out on errands tomorrow with H. You won't have to worry about him all day."
"No, I'll have to worry about you. Or that creepy old bastard Flair. Nothing you can say is going to make me feel any better, if that's your goal. How can you expect me to feel safe or content given the situation?"
"I don't," he sighed. "I was just trying to make things a little better for you."
"Then get me the f*ck out of here.
"I can't."
"So I was right. You are a coward."
"It's not that simple."
"Forget it. Screw it. Just give me a little bit of space so I can get to sleep without having to think about the fact that you're sitting there watching me."
She lay down on the bed facing away from him, hugging the spare pillow against her. He could tell by her slight, shaking shoulders that she was crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The boys fidgeted anxiously in the lockerroom the following night. RAW went live in five minutes. They had yet to see or hear from Lita.
Rob paced the floor, punching one fist into another. "Stop. You're making me nervous," Spike said agitatedly.
"You should be nervous," Raven muttered. "This is a bad sign."
"This isn't like her," Rob said aloud to himself as he walked. "She should be here by now. She wouldn't abandon us."
"She already abandoned us," Kane whispered lowly from his dark corner. "She betrayed me," he said more to himself. "Just like everyone else."
"That's not true!" Rob yelled. "She'd be here if she could. Something's holding her back. Something's wrong."
Bischoff picked that sensitive moment to burst in rudely. "Aah, I see the women's champion has still not made an appearance. Too bad. I guess she'll have to forfeit her title match to Gail tonight. When, if, you do see her again, will you notify her for me that she has a belt to hand over? Oh, and Spike, my apologies, but we're having to reschedule your title match against Triple H until next week. The Champ just can't make it tonight."
The team seethed silently at Bischoff's blatant injustice. Fighting him unorganized as they were would only make it worse, and there was no one there to channel their strength, give it force and direction. She was still missing.
"Oh, by the way Rob. Your match against Orton is first. You'd better be getting out there. See ya' guys!"
Rob waited until he left, then hurriedly tied his boots on and did some quick stretching. "Be careful out there, man," Justin warned.
"You should be more worried about Orton. I'm sure that little Evolution punk knows something about what's going on, and I'm going to beat it out of him." He strode out of the room and made it to the top of the ramp just as his music was hitting.
Rob stood in the center of the ring, waiting for his opponent. He couldn't hide his confusion when Evolution's music hit and Flair and Orton walked out in their street clothes. "What's going on?" he mouthed, arms wide.
Orton sneered at him, full of self-pleasure. Grabbing a mic, he announced, "Sorry, Rob, but we're going to have to interrupt this scheduled match for an important announcement from your World Heavyweight Champion."
The Titantron screen flickered and Triple H appeared, smiling.
"Good evening. I'm appearing via live satellite feed from, well..." he chuckled. "Where from isn't useful for you to know. However, I am virtually present in order to make negotiations. A trade-off, of sorts. You see, I'm tired of your little team going after my championship belt, my trophy. So I've taken it upon myself to deprive you of your most...beloved...trophy."
He moved back from the camera to include the rest of the room in the screen. Lita was sitting, head down, tied to a chair.
"Now I have this pretty little trophy for myself," he leaned toward her, one hand stroking her cheek. Lita spat at him and turned her face away. He grabbed her hair, wrenched her head up so that she was staring defiantly into the camera. The view was clear enough that Rob could see one solitary tear trickle like a diamond down her cheek. He shook his head in pain, willing himself to disbelief.
"Look at your trophy, Rob. I'm not giving her up. But I will promise to take care of her. If you agree to my conditions."
Rob nodded, and mouthed, "Let me talk to her," pointing to himself and to the screen to get his point across.
Triple H nodded. "I thought you would make that request, and, from the goodness of my heart, I had already decided to grant it." He stood up, walking away from the camera, and whispered in Lita's ear, "Don't try anything," before heading off to the far side of the room to watch.
"Hey Li," Rob tried hesitantly.
She made herself smile for him, and nodded. "Hey."
"Are you..." his throat caught on his words, and he swallowed down a sob. "Are you okay?"
"I'm all right," she lied, hoping he wouldn't catch the fading bruise on her forehead from Sunday night, half-hidden behind her hair.
"Have they...have they hur..." he ducked his head, covering his eyes with one hand.
"I'm okay," Lita lied again, less convincingly this time as tears sprang to her eyes. "I miss you, all of y'all. Oh, please don't cry," she begged as he broke down.
"No llora," she pleaded again, and Rob looked up at her face on the screen, and through the two monitors and miles of wire and equipment, a look of understanding passed between them. "Rob, escucha a mi. Necesito decir este muy rapido." (Rob, listen to me. I need to speak very quickly.)
Rob nodded, focusing intently.
"Ellos van a atacar Kane con agua. Mi novio..." (They're going to attack Kane with water. My boyfriend...) she made a disgusted face. "...viejo los dijo. Bastardo. Cualquier, tu tienes advertir Kane." (...My old boyfriend told them. Bastard. Whatever, you have to warn Kane."
"El advertira. Pero, ?donde estas?" (I will. But where are you?)
"Estoy a un balneario a traves de la hospital de Wake Occidental. Estoy muy acerca de mi casa. Ven por mi. Rob," (I'm at a hotel across from Western Wake Hospital. I'm very near my home. Come for me. Rob...) she looked into the camera desperately. "Salvame. Por favor...Te amo. Te necesito, mas ahora de antes." (Save me. Please...I love you. I need you, more now than ever before.)
"Estoy veniendo. Te amo." (I'm coming. I love you.)
"That's more than enough," Triple H's voice cut in harshly. "Though I must say, that was an endearing little exchange. Of course, to understand what was going on, I had to walk over there in the next room, watch RAW, and go to the trouble of selecting the translation service on the remote and read what you two were saying in English subtitles. So..." he smirked at Rob's devastated expression. "By the time you and the rest of your little buddies even make it into this state, we'll be well on our way to somewhere new." The humor left his expression and his voice. "And your stubborn little b*tch here is going to be nice and unconscious for the entire trip. You know our demands. Do not screw with us."
The screen went black.
Triple H turned violently to Lita, knocking the chair she was trapped in over so that she fell flat on her back, her head bumping painfully. Hunter leaned over into her face. "I tried to be polite. I tried to treat you civilly." His voice was merciless and rough as sandpaper, his breathing harsh and ragged. "But you've figuratively and literally spit in my face for all my kind accomodations. So you've revoked your rights to be treated as anything other than what you are, a conniving little whore." His mouth crashed down upon hers, his tongue shoving down. She coughed, trying to breathe, and bit down, hard.
Triple H jerked away, staring at her in surprise as his hand trailed to his mouth. "I can taste his blood," she pondered thoughtfully. "I really got him good that time."
"I guess I deserved that," he apologized sarcastically. "There's still time...perhaps I should have bought a lady *dinner* first." He clapped his hands twice, sharply. Batista appeared at the doorway. He glanced down in surprise at where Lita still lay tied to a chair on the floor, but quickly drew himself back up to attention.
"Dave, when will dinner be ready?"
"The cook has already prepared it."
"Oh, it's 9:30 already? Well, would you send a plate up for Miss Dumas?"
"Absolutely."
Batista left, and Triple H proceeded to untie Lita, his hands lingering a little too long in all the inappopriate places. She was glad when Batista had returned with the dinner cart.
He wheeled the cart in front of her, removing the lid off the silver platter to reveal a thick sirloin. "Check out the quality of this dinnerware," he informed her. "Real silver. You can tell by how nice and heavy it is."
Lita met his eyes expressionlessly. His face was equally devoid of emotion. "See? Nothing but the best for Evolution," Triple H bragged. Batista smiled at his leader, but none of it reached the coldness in his eyes. Dave left the room and left them alone.
Lita picked at her food. "Come on now, you don't have all night," Hunter prodded her.
"I'm surprised you didn't rush us away as soon as you found out what I'd told RVD."
"It will take them hours to get from Anaheim to here."
"It would take them hours to get from Anaheim to here," Lita agreed, taking a bit of her steak. "...If they were in Anaheim."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, taking a swallow of wine. "Just that, we're in Anaheim next week. You must have checked the schedule wrong."
"Then where are they this week?" Triple H's voice didn't have the full amount of his useful confidence.
"Pontiac."
"You're bluffing," he didn't sound like he believed it.
"Am I?" she took another bite of steak, smiling at him.
"Oh, sh*t."
He jumped for his feet, heading for the door. "DAVE! We need to leave!"
"Oh, Champ?"
He turned to her, snarling. "What?"
The silver platter connected with his skull quite nicely.
"Come to think of it, I do think they're in Anaheim this week. My bad." Lita strolled from the room.
Batista was waiting for her at the front door. "He getting up any time soon?" he asked, his back still towards her. Lita shook her head, realized he couldn't see her, and said, "No."
"Good. You still got that big plate?"
"Yeah."
"Then you'd better make this believable. You're gonna have to hit me pretty hard, especially if you're gonna get a knot to form there. They have to believe that you got me from behind before I even knew what was coming."
"I know. They'd never buy that I got you in a fair battle. Even if I was armed."
"Exactly. So don't hold back."
"Thanks. But don't worry," Lita said as she swung the platter down with all her strength.
Batista hit the floor with a thud. "Sorry about that," she leaned down to pat his face. Squaring her shoulders, she marched off down the highway. She was sure they'd have a phone she could use at the hospital.
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Sorry if that chapter was a little too long, but I just loved how it was all playing out in my head, so I just let it run. Anyway, let me know what you think.