A/N:  Wow!  I'm glad you guys liked my story so far!  I'm trying to update as soon as possible, but because of school it's a little hard.  Please keep reviewing! 

Disclaimer:  1st chapter. 

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

DANGEROUS BUSINESS

CHAPTER 4

A LITTLE REVENEGE

-RAW-

-8:45 P.M-

          RVD looked down at Liz and sighed.  Her jade eyes had an unusual distant look as they walked down the hall.  He dimly noticed a limp in her leg, but didn't say anything.  A scowl darkened her face.

          "Hey," Rob said, trying to keep the conversation light.  "I've been thinking of what you said to Jericho."  Liz looked up slowly, wisps of hair spilling out of her loose ponytail. 

          "Yeah?" she said, scowling as she redid her ponytail.  Still, some hair blew right into her face.  "What about it?" she repeated.

          "You said 'I'd rather take a bath in hot tar naked', right?" he questioned.  Sighing, Liz nodded, shifting her duffel bag onto her other shoulder with a slight wince. 

          She stared at him for a second.  The scowl returned to her face and she said, in a light tone, "You know, I never thought that someone would take time out of their life to correct my insults.  Besides," she added with an insolent grin, "Jericho seemed to like it."  Rob smiled in return.  "Hey," she said after a minute, "Can I valet for you tonight?"  She stared at him pleadingly and he sighed.

          "I don't know…" he murmured. 

          She sighed, and then asked, "You're facing HHH, right?" Rob looked down for a second and nodded in response.  To his surprise, Liz smirked readily.  "You're going to beat that idiot hands-down," she informed him as she crossed her arms across her chest.  She snorted after a second and added, "Hell, even that wimp Jericho could beat him."  She did appear slightly miffed that Rob hadn't let her valet. 

          Soon, Liz stepped into her room with a short good-bye to Rob.  As she set her small duffel down, she looked around the empty room.  She remembered vaguely that Matt and Lita would be in here with her later that night.  Sighing, she slipped onto the leather couch, thinking about Jeff, fury outlining her face.  McMahon had promised her that she would receive a title shot at Victoria, but now she was forced to take the day off.  She flipped on the TV and propped up her feet.  There would be plenty of times for revenge on Austin. 

          Speak of the Devil.  The jackass himself was out in the ring, calling out McMahon about something or another.  Liz stared at the ceiling, a sadistic smile on her face.

          Of course, any night was good for revenge…

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

          Edge stared at the door to the office of the APA.  He couldn't believe he was actually doing this.  Convincingly, he remembered what Liz had said after he had come to talk with her just after RAW started.  The thing that unnerved him was that she said that she would take out Austin.  Edge knew she could handle herself, but she was a bit dumb when it came to decision-making.  The Canadian himself had only beaten Stone Cold once. 

          He knocked on the door and walked in.  As usual, Farooq and Bradshaw were sitting at a round table, drinking Bud and playing cards.  Bradshaw jerked his head up.

          "What do you want?" he snapped.  Edge walked over and sat at one of the empty chairs and responded in a simple manner.

          "I want you to look after one of my friends tonight," he told them, clenching his jaw as he tried to decipher their unreadable faces. 

          "Who?" replied Bradshaw, picking at his skin. 

          Edge sighed and responded, "Elizabeth Smith."  It was awkward using her full name, but he did so nonetheless.  He saw their faces lighten.

          "We'll do it," informed Farooq happily.  Edge slid two twenties on the table, figuring they wouldn't care much about the money.  Walking out, he hoped that Smithy would understand.  He sighed, shook his head lightly and began to prepare for his match. 

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

          The brunette glared at the APA in pure fury.  She noticed Farooq shed away slightly, but the broader Texan just stared down at her, angering her further for no real reason.

          "He what?" she hissed, Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palm as she waited for the answer. 

          "You're stuck with us no matter what you think of it," supplied Farooq.

          "So why don't we play a round of poker?" continued Bradshaw.

          A smirk spread across Liz's face.  As much as she hated it, Farooq was probably right.  She probably couldn't fight them – not in the shape she was in now – so she sighed and said, "Sure.  But I have to warn you, I'm going to kick your Asses."

          Bradshaw smiled and said, "Now, little miss, that's just not possible." 

          The brunette let a smile cross her face.  A challenge.  She sighed – it wasn't a match, it wasn't revenge, but at least she would kick someone's butt tonight.

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

          Liz smiled as she took in the last of their money.  Farooq threw up his hands in surrender.  Bradshaw mock-scowled at her.  She smiled sweetly back at him.  Her eyes strayed to the television that had been hooked up in the APA office.  She frowned as she watched Brock destroy Jericho. 

          'Big surprise,' she thought wryly, thinking of her last match with Brock.  A little smile came to her face as she watched Jericho crawl away after losing.  She glanced at the two Texans and stretched her legs on the tip of the table.  She smiled as they watched attentively. 

          "Hey, guys," she asked, "You guys interested in helping a girl out and dishing out some revenge?"  She watched their faces and slowly, they nodded. 

          A small smile came to her face as she stood up, leading the APA down the halls.  'Men,' she thought happily as they walked, 'So gullible.'

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

          Liz looked down at her watch.  '10:15' the letters blinked back at her.  She frowned.  Already 10:15?  Oh, well.  At least he would be done with his match by now.  Of course, that could be good and it could be bad.  The brunette looked back at the two Texans following her.  She gripped the steel blue chair tighter in her hands. 

          The APA stepped forward and barged through the door.  Liz sighed.  They had refused to let her go in first when she'd suggested the idea.  She heard gruff curses and she peaked through the door.  Across the room, Austin locked eyes with her.  After their surprise attack, Bradshaw had Austin's hands held tightly, and Farooq was in the process of choking him, waiting for Liz's command.

          She glared at him, her jade eyes blazing with fury.  "Hey, Dad," she hissed in an inhuman voice.  She saw the surprise written on the men's faces as she said it, but kept her eyes drilling into Austin.  Liz tapped the chair with her nail as she approached, and then set it down.  She lined her body parallel to Stone Cold's.  "Let him go," she ordered.  As soon as they did, Austin slammed the stunner on Farooq.  Bradshaw backed off at her approval. 

          "You really think you're going to prove anything when you go attacking people from behind?" questioned Austin.

          She glared at him.  "I should be asking YOU that question," she hissed.  "What did Jeff have to do with ANYTHING?" she shouted at him. 

          "Business," replied her father icily.  

          "Bastard," retorted Liz.  Her teeth clenched and she stared at Stone Cold.  She was only seeing a target now, but with a perfect little target on his head. 

          "You want to fight me?" chuckled Austin. 

          "I'm going to," replied Liz, jumping at him.  Austin dodged her high kick and grasped her leg, only to be kicked in the face with her other foot.  He spun to the ground, but leapt up quickly.  Liz slammed the base of her foot into his chest and chopped him in his neck.  She spun around and Bradshaw threw her the chair.  Liz pushed it in front of her foot as it slammed into Austin.  A dull slam echoed through the room as it hit.  As the man struggled to get up off of the floor, the brunette searched the room, her eyes falling on the bottle of black spray paint. 

          She turned to her father, who was up on his feet, staggering, but up all the same.  Liz grasped a lamp between her hands and slammed it into the back of his head, drawing blood.  She vaguely noticed that she had opened a cut on his head from his previous match, but didn't say anything.  Bradshaw leapt forward and slammed the chair into the Rattlesnake's back a few times for good measure.  Liz sighed in irritation.  Once the Texan was done, she opened the spray can and sprayed the black onto Austin's back.

          "Let's go," said Liz.  She sighed, knowing that this wasn't the perfect revenge – Austin tired out from a previous night – but she was sure that Mr. McMahon would give them a match someday, sooner or later. 

          The two walked out – Farooq being dragged by Bradshaw – and left Austin lying in the bits of lamp, the sign for Team Xtreme glittering on his back.

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

          "Hey Bradshaw," Liz said as they walked to the curtain, "Can I valet for your match?"  Bradshaw hesitated.  "You wouldn't be doing your job if I didn't come out - !" Liz pointed out. 

          Bradshaw grumbled and responded unwillingly, "Fine, you'll come out.  But you're going to go out on commentary, not to valet." 

          "Fine," replied Liz, sticking out her bottom lip comically as Bradshaw's music hit.  The fans cheered, and Liz got a chance to look up.  She looked around the crowds, smiling at the signs.  Some of them were for her! She realized happily as she went to the commentary, wishing Bradshaw good luck as she did so.

          "Hey Elizabeth!" cried King enthusiastically as she put on the headset. 

          "Call me Liz," she corrected automatically, untangling her hair from the headphones. 

          "Should you be out here now with what you did to your father?" questioned JR.  Liz jumped, startled.

          "You saw that?" she questioned.  The announcers nodded.  Liz huffed quietly and stared at the ring as Rick Flair came walking down the ramp, accompanying Batista.  "Austin got what was coming to him," she retorted, "I only wish that I could kick his ass in the ring one time."  She carefully watched Flair, staring at his bandages. 

          The match was long and hard.  Liz watched it intently as she commented.  Batista was in control for most of the match, even though Bradshaw appeared to have the control in the mid-point when he gave Batista the clothesline from hell.  But Batista regained control and was carefully picked Bradshaw apart.

          As Liz watched, she was oblivious to the figure sneaking up on her.  The person grabbed her by her hair from the top of the stage.  She managed to twist around, and when she did, was met with the livid eyes of the Rattlesnake.  Liz lifted her foot and slammed it into Austin's groin, he let go, and she dropped to the floor that the announcer table was set on. 

          The brunette ignored the King's comments and leapt up onto the ramp.  Austin grabbed her by her hair – again – and tossed her across the steel.  Liz skidded several feet, the skin on her forearms and legs tearing off against the steel, her head bouncing against the relentless ramp.  As Austin did his thing with the fans, Liz stood up, and as Austin turned, she rammed her shoulder into his gut in her own spear.  She brought her fist back and slammed it into Austin's face, sending him reeling backwards, and falling to the steel.  Liz waved the brass knuckles in her hand at him and jeered.  The crowd seemed unsure what to do.  Austin growled and pushed himself off his feet, grabbing her wrist and twisting it painfully.  He shouted smack to her as the bell rang and Garcia announced the winner of the match – Batista.  Austin tackled her to the ground and slammed his fists into her repeatedly.  Liz struggled away and stood up.  She took a few steps back and delivered a sidekick – straight to Austin's jaw.  He stumbled backwards, and she dropkicked him, breaking her fall to the steel with her hands.  Struggling, Liz fought him with similar moves until he was down for a bit more.  She sighed, knowing that she'd have to do something drastic to end this.  So she picked Austin up and painfully lifted him unto her shoulders.  He was heavy – almost too heavy for her.  Pain shot down from her back and she staggered slightly, but kept Austin in the air, but not for long.  She finally pushed him down, his back crashing against the steel.  Liz grasped at her back quietly and raised her hand with her thumb, pointer, and middle fingers sticking out – the Hardy's sign. 

          "Tell me I'm dreaming, JR!" cried King, "Tell me that a rookie – female! – didn't just powerbomb the Rattlesnake!"

          "I don't know about that King, but she better get out of there soon!" he shouted as Batista and Flair walked up the ramp.  Liz glared at Batista for a second and shouted four words to him.

          "Next time, big man," she hissed to him, and walked away as her music crashed through the speakers. 

          Once behind the curtains, she pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.  Her head had begun to spin once more.  Curtsey of herself – and Austin – the cut on the back of her head had reopened and the blood slowly seeped through the cut.. 

          As she dragged herself to the doctor "on campus", strong hands grasped her arms and shoved her against the wall.  Her head crashed against the concrete wall, and her dizziness increased severely. 

          In front of her, Chris Jericho smirked. 

          "Not so tough now are you?" he taunted.

          "Go fuck yourself," retorted Liz blindly, struggling to kick him, but he leaned out of reach.  Jericho chuckled and smirked.  "You'll be sorry you said what you did on Smackdown!" he hissed.  He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers roughly.

          Liz jerked her pained head back and slammed it into Jericho's, bringing an onslaught of pain to her head.  Jericho grasped his forehead in pain as Liz stumbled through the hall slowly, seeing two of everything.  Suddenly, she felt another wave of pain crash through her skull, and then she fell into the black recesses of unconsciousness. 

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *       

A/N:  Okay, this was a crappy chapter, sorry about that.  I didn't have too much time to finish it and was kind of at a loss of how to write this.  Please review!