Los Angeles's Finest

Chapter 3

            Jordan tapped her feet against the column of milk crates that she was sitting on, her palms pressing against her forehead.  Her outfit for the night was in the same ying-yang design as the show last week, only she was wearing pants and a tank top. 

            "And just what do you think you're doing, little missy?" demanded a voice.  Jordan looked up wearily, seeing that it was the make-up artist, Terry. 

            "Avoiding you?" she asked, and his eyelid flickered in annoyance as he grabbed her wrist, dragging her to the backstage area.  She sighed, stumbling forward until she was pushed into a chair.  Terry ran a hand through his short, blond, highlighted hair as he inspected his array of make-up.

            Finally deciding, he started to work on her face.  After a few minutes, he spoke.  "Heard a bit of gossip today," he said, gauging her reaction.  She eyed him lazily.

            "Is that supposed to surprise me?  Terry, you're the first one to get the gossip.  Half the time I think you're the one who makes it up." 

            "I'm social, what can I say?" Terry snatched a tube of lipstick and continued, "You see, I'm a close friend of Gail Kim…  Well, she thinks I am, anyway.  She old me, and a bunch of other people, that Hunter said something to you after he hit you with that chair.  'This is not over', or something, Gail says he says."

            As he took away the lipstick, she raised her eyebrow.  "And I care that Hunter said this why?"

            Terry put his hands on the armrests of the chair and leaned down to her level, "Are you really that naïve?  'This is not over'?  That's something a person would say if they were interested in revenge for something."  He removed his hands and studied his job.  Apparently it was good enough, because he tossed her a mirror, dumping the mascara and whatnot into his drawer. 

            Jordan eyed him as she picked at the skin around her nails, "And that's supposed to mean what, Terry?"

            Terry crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.  "Are you really that vide in the head?"
            "Vide?  Since when did you pick up French?"

            "That isn't the point!" Terry threw up his hands.  "What am I going to do with you?"  After a frustrated sigh and a dramatic pause, he started talking again.  "Think about it.  They think he's out for revenge for something.  What do you think is the most obvious answer?"

            "Enlighten me," Jordan said dryly as she stood up. 

            "The rumor is that you and Trips had a thing in the past."  Jordan looked at him, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

            "That is just plain sick."

            "Well, I don't know about that…  Trips is kinda cute," Terry added coyly.

            "Riiight," Jordan said, rolling her eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair. 

            "But your happy with Rob," Terry finished.

            Jordan make an odd strangled noise, "What do you mean, 'happy with Rob'?"

            Terry feigned an innocent look.  "Why, I thought you two were together!" he sighed, shaking his head.  Jordan gave him a quick hug and started to leave.  "Well, J, if you're ever going to get with him, make it fast!" he saw her shake her head, a smile creeping up her face despite, "'Cause I might just snatch him up!" 

            A few feet away, Jordan turned.  "Be my guest, Terry.  But, as the French say, you will ne pas obtenir tres lointain."

            By the time he figured out what she said ("…you will not get very far"), she was long gone.  The blond man gestured for the next wrestler to sit down.  In addition to being the make-up artist, he was the head designer, along with a few other odd jobs. 

            As he took the measurements of Molly Holly, his mind wandered back to Jordan and Rob.  He shook his head, wrapping the measuring tape around Molly's shoulders.  It was so obvious that they were perfect for each other, but they were both too stubborn to admit it.  Well, Terry reasoned, Jordan, at the least. 

            Maybe they just needed a nudge in the right direction…

            "Sit," Terry ordered, pointing to the chair where Jordan had been in a few minutes before.

            Yes…  Maybe poking a few fingers here and there would help…  After all, it was for the better cause.

            He grinned.

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A/N:  So the chapter isn't that exciting, but I'll get there!  Please review!  I don't know when the next update will be, but I'll try to make it soon!  If you have time, please check out my other stories, mainly "Moving On", "Masked", and "Her Daughter's Father".  REVIEW!