Author's Note: Sadly, I will be leaving again at the end of the month for another short trip. I'll be back on August 4th, late at night. I'll be leaving on the 30th. If this is updated before I leave, it will probably be the last chapter I have before I leave. Also, we are getting a new computer, so I'll have to figure out what to do with all of the half-finished files on here. I'm almost to the big 20!! LOL! Anyway, please review!
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Dangerous Business
Chapter XVIV
Smackdown!
7:49 P.M
Liz and Rob both managed the two days before the Smackdown! Show. They had both expertly avoided contact with others, and tried to forget about the break-up. Neither of them quite succeeded. Both of them tried to mentally prepare themselves for the onslaught that was inevitable come Smackdown! Liz had had a long discussion with her mom, and seemed to be more at ease with the facts, but the burning feeling of pain that came with them didn't go away. Rob had talked to Shane and Tommy each shortly. They didn't end up being much of help, seeing as how Shane was getting closer to her sister, and Tommy was slowly becoming one of the group of her friends. So he ended up going through the what-ifs.
Rob Van Dam sat in his own locker room, one foot on one bench, and the other foot on the other bench, stretching quietly. The monitor in the top right corner of his room didn't emit a sound as it continued to display a black screen. The list of matches for the night was taped to the wall beneath the monitor. Rob looked down at the matches, past his Tag Team Title match, and to the second to last match. It was Liz versus Jazz versus Trish. He sighed, standing up slowly, kicking out his legs for feeling. Liz would win, he predicted easily, they're nothing compared to her in the ring.
A knock jarred him out of his thoughts. Rob looked up dismally, not expecting a lightening visitor. He groaned loudly as Paul Heyman stepped through the door. Apparently, he was alone, or Big Show was standing outside. Paul was smiling in triumph, as he looked at Rob's somewhat disheveled appearance.
"So, how are you, Rob?" Heyman asked, sitting down on the end of the bench closest to the door. Rob scowled at him hatefully.
"Shut the fuck up," he snapped heartily. Heyman clicked his tongue, shaking his head quietly.
"Is that the way you talk to someone like me?" he asked.
"I dunno," Rob said, standing up and towering over Heyman menacingly, "How does one talk to a filthy, backstabbing, bastard?" There was silence as Heyman stood up, glaring at him.
"You disappointed me, Rob," he drawled, slipping past the martial artist to saunter around the ring. "I thought you'd try something to save your relationship with Liz… At least try to lie to me," he laughed, "Obviously, your relationship with her wasn't as good as everybody seemed to let on," he said. Rob balled his hands into fists, trying to resist the urge to destroy the man in front of him. Rob took a threatening step forward. Heyman called his bluff. "You can't hurt me, Rob. As much as you want to, all you can do is stand there and glare and call me names, 'cause if you do so much as throw a punch…" he trailed off. He smiled brightly suddenly, "But here's the good news you've been waiting to hear." Rob scowled. "You actually broke up with her!" he laughed. "Even if you had tried one of those brilliant lie-to-me plans, I would have found out," he declared giddily. "Want to know why?"
"No," Rob said icily, grabbing his water bottle. "I don't."
"I'll tell you why," Heyman announced, ignoring Rob as if he hadn't spoken, "It's because I have a spy close to Liz… So close, in fact, I'll know enough to blackmail her when I'm done with you," he laughed.
"You wouldn't dare…" growled Rob.
"You know me well enough to know that you're lying right now, R-V-D. I'm the man that created you, and I'm going to destroy you," he said slowly. Rob clenched his jaw, his fists turned white from the pressure he was putting on them. "So you want to know who this person, this spy, of mine is?"
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Rob spat out sharply.
"No," replied Heyman gleefully, you don't." He opened the door and stepped out for a second. For a moment, Rob thought that Heyman was going to leave, thank God, but he returned seconds later, his slimy hand on a teenager's arm as he brought her into the room. She hid behind her mane of blond hair.
Oh, God… Rob felt his insides turn to mush. It can't be…
"Rob, meet Dominique," Heyman introduced, and then gasped with fake surprise, "but you already know each other, don't you?" the room was silent with the exception of his laughs. "I'll leave you two to sort things out," he didn't stop laughing, "In the meantime, I'm going to go and find my client," he grinned, "The Big Show." The words had their desired effects, rubbing in on Rob and Dominique, the reason that they'd betrayed Liz.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rob snapped as soon as the door shut, "Working for him!" Dominique looked up, her blue eyes hazy with unshed tears of guilt.
"I could just as easily turn that back at you," she said quietly, "Breaking up with her because of a threat that Heyman made… You could've done something and then neither of us would be in this situation!"
"And Liz would be in the hospital," spat Rob.
"There you go!" Dominique cried, throwing up her hands, "That's the same damn thing I came to! If Heyman didn't know for sure that Liz and you broke up for real, do you really think he'd leave you both alone?" Rob knew she was right, but didn't admit it. He turned his back on her, picking up his duffel bag and saying nothing as he looked for the rest of his gear. Dominique set a hand on his shoulder tentatively. "It'll turn out in the end," she whispered. Rob turned around, staring at her sadly.
"No, it won't."
It was funny, in a sad and twisted way, Rob thought, how far both of them in the room would go as far to betray her to protect her.
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Liz sighed quietly as she pulled on her clothes for her upcoming match with Jazz and Trish. She was grateful that her mom had been in Texas to visit some of her friends; it gave Liz a chance to talk to her in person. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She was wearing an orange tank top that showed off her stomach, and a pair of orange pants that flared at the ankles. The orange material shone silver in the light, and it pressed against her body snugly. Liz sat down on the leather couch, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she watched the monitor. Matt and Jeff had gone to get a bite to eat, and Liz couldn't be happier that Matt wouldn't be there. Which probably was unfair of her to say, but they fought almost every time that they got together. Dominique had hurried off with the excuse of seeing Shane once her cell phone rang.
The brunette jumped as the door opened and Lita walked in. Liz sighed with relief, standing up as Lita greeted her with a hug. Liz mustered a small smile.
"So how've you been? Barely saw you the last few days," she said, "You didn't come out with us to the fireworks and your cell was turned off…"
Lita smiled brightly, "I spent the weekend with Matt," she said, looking like she was going to burst. Liz cocked an eyebrow.
"And the reason you look like you're about to implode would be…?"
"Matt and I are engaged!" Lita squealed. Liz felt her jaw drop in shock, muttering something inaudibly underneath her breath.
"Took you guys about damn time," she muttered, and they hugged again. Liz pushed all thoughts of the break up away. Just because he broke up with her didn't mean that she couldn't be genuinely happy for one of her friends. After a few minutes of astounded remarks, small talk, and a congratulations, Liz slipped out of the locker room via the messenger telling her that her match was up.
This time as she walked down the ramp, she paused to smile and enjoy the screams and chants in her ears, not just running to the ring. The announcers commented on it. Well, J.R. did, anyway, King was too busy making 'other' comments about her. Liz slipped into the ring, next to Trish. Trish smiled, and they hugged quickly, each wishing the other good luck. Jazz's boring music started, and she stomped to the ring, followed closely by Theodore Long.
"Remember," J.R. said as Jazz shot a dirty, arrogant look at Liz and Trish, "That the last time Jazz and Liz were in a ring together, Jazz threw her from the turnbuckle into the steel steps."
Liz clenched her jaw suddenly, remembering that match as she passed a look to Trish. Trish nodded at her in reply. The first person who is pinned, KO-ed, or submits, is eliminated, and then the remaining two duke it out. Trish and Liz had exchanged a few quick words and had decided quickly to get Jazz out of the picture. As soon as the bell rang, Jazz jumped toward Liz. They exchanged right hooks while Trish stood a ways away, pressing herself against the turnbuckle. Jazz pushed Liz to the ropes, and bent down, waiting for her to return. Trish bounced against the ropes near her and delivered a bulldog. Liz leapt over Jazz's fallen body, sprung to the second rope, and performed a Lionsault (compliments of Chris Jericho). Trish pulled Jazz to her feet and held her back as Liz chopped Jazz a few times in the chest. Trish backed away once more. Liz delivered a few small moves to temporarily stun Jazz before pushing her to a sitting position. At this point, Theodore Long was screaming at ringside. Liz jerked her head to Trish, who did a handstand on the bottom rope, hooked her legs around Jazz's head, and pulled her down. The brunette left her to deal with Jazz as she headed toward the ring announcer. She backed away as Liz grabbed the chair and climbed on the turnbuckle. The ref was busy with Jazz and Trish. At the top, Liz waited until Theodore Long was in her sights. She leapt off of the turnbuckle, curling forward to put the chair at the bottom of her boots, and extended her legs as she reached Theodore. The chair cracked against his skull, and he fell to the mat, heavily dazed or unconscious. Liz jumped to her feet, a tad dizzy after hitting the mat, but not much worse for the wear as she leapt into the ring. Jazz had started to gain momentum when she came into the ring. When Trish fell, Liz sprung onto Jazz, blindsiding her so she could get in a spine buster. Trish stumbled to her feet as Liz dragged Jazz upward. Liz snapped something quickly to Trish, and she ran to the other side of the ring. Liz pushed Jazz as hard as she possibly could to Trish. Jazz was going to go for a flying clothesline, but Trish ducked, yanking on the top rope and sending Jazz sprawling on the outside. Liz sprinted forward, and Trish knelt on all fours. Liz placed her right foot on Trish's back, and then her left on the top rope, still continuing with her momentum. As soon as she hit the rope, she turned it into a Swanton Bomb. The move could've been easily overshot, and she could've landed on the barrier, but she executed it perfectly. Grimacing from the pain in her ribs, Liz pushed Jazz into the ring with Trish, catching her breath. Just then Vince McMahon's music started to play. Trish and Jazz kept going at it. Vince remained at the top of the ring, a confident smirk on his face.
"Since you're so apt to use weapons," he said, eyeing the discarded steel chair. His voice boomed across the arena as Jazz hit the mat. "This match is now a HARDCORE, falls count ANYWHERE match." The crowd cheered, and Liz rolled her eyes, focusing on Jazz, until she caught movement at the top of the ramp. Rodney Mack sprinted to the ring, chair in hand. Liz groaned, and shouted to Trish. The blond nodded, concentrating on Jazz harder now. Liz readied herself on the turnbuckle. She leapt as Rodney came closer, ready to splash him, but Rodney jerked the chair up, moved to the side, and caught her in the ribs with it. Liz spiraled away from the chair on contact and crashed into the steel ramp with a sharp cry of pain. Rodney took the chance to leer at her for a second, and then slipped into the ring. He stood before Trish, clapping the steel chair in his hands, backing Trish into a turnbuckle, pleading with him. Liz gritted her teeth, clutching her ribs, trying to stagger to her feet. She let out a strangled cough, thick blood coating her throat as she managed to stumble to the apron, where she clutched onto the fabric to hold her up, breathing heavily. Trish was lying sprawled out in the middle of the ring, a thin line of blood creasing her forehead. Jazz was crawling toward Trish, and Rodney was standing against the turnbuckle, a large red handprint on his face from a slap from Trish. Jazz covered Trish, and the ref eagerly slapped his hand to the mat.
"1…" he shouted. Liz pulled herself up onto the apron. "2…" She falteringly stood up, pushing herself to reach the two. Rodney took three steps forward, but stopped as he looked at the ramp. Goldberg was running down to the ring. Liz stole a glance as she started to leap to break up the pin, confused before she remembered the feud that Goldberg and Rodney had – and the fact that Rodney had evaded him earlier. Rodney, however, didn't waste time trying to stare down the sprinting Goldberg. He turned, grabbed an arm around Liz's waist, and threw her back into the turnbuckle as the "3!" sounded. Liz felt her neck jerk backward as her back hit the turnbuckle and she snapped to the mat. Rodney grabbed the chair and bounced on his feet, waiting for Goldberg to make it to the ring. Jazz lumbered up, and slipped out of the ring, looking beneath it for weapons as Liz slowly used the turnbuckle ropes to stand. Goldberg hit Rodney with a savage clothesline. She crawled along the side of the ring with the ropes so that she stood behind Rodney, who was just standing up. She took a step or two forward. Because of her view, she didn't see Goldberg get in front of Rodney, crouching down. She didn't see Goldberg rush forward and dive shoulder-first like a javelin to Rodney. At the last second, as Liz reached to blindside Rodney, he moved, and she was hit with the spear. Letting out a yell of pain, she crumpled into a ball, hands clutching at her ribs. The thick, choking blood that had slowly made its way to her throat slowly went faster now. She spat it out, gritting her teeth again, trying to kneel up, but failing. Goldberg swore profusely as he watched Rodney make his way up the ramp, taunting him. Jazz stood up and chose that moment to attack Liz in a series of stomps and kicks, mostly to her now-injured ribs, relishing each cry that Liz gave out every time her boot snapped into her.
"Ready to give up?" Jazz taunted as she jerked Liz to her feet. Liz didn't say anything in reply. Jazz delivered a German Suplex quickly. She didn't stop her assault, and quickly grabbed a handful of Liz's hair to pull her to her swaying feet. After a moment of debate, Jazz picked Liz off of the mat, pressing her ribs to her shoulder, her arms around Liz's waist, constricting. Liz winced as Jazz's shoulder jutted into her ribs. Thinking quickly, she weaseled an inch or two down – as much as her grip would allow – and gave Jazz a ruthless head-butt. She grasped Jazz's head in her hands as she flipped over Jazz and bent down, dragging Jazz down with her. Jazz fell, her back crashed against Liz's, and then, with a small bounce, landed on her neck near Liz. Standing up slowly after catching her breath, her hand still slung over her ribs in a protective gesture, Liz grabbed the steel chair that'd been lying on the mat, trying to get rid of the dizzy feeling that intoxicated her. As Jazz stood up, Liz smacked the chair over her head. As Jazz hit the ground, Liz faltered and sunk on her left knee before pushing up to deliver three more deafening chair shots. Liz grimaced as the pain in her ribs began to get worse, as did her dizziness. She sunk down to pin Jazz.
"1…2…" as the ref almost said three, Jazz kicked out. Liz groaned, resting on the mat, staring upward at the lights before sliding out of the ring and returning to a half-standing Jazz, who took one long look at the sledgehammer nestled in Liz's arms and stood up, ignoring the sharp, biting pain in her head. Liz took a swing to Jazz's ribs, but was careful not to hit too high or too hard to save from putting Jazz out of action for quite a while. She didn't hit as hard as she could, but hard enough. Jazz slammed into the mat, let one scream of pain out, and clutched at her ribs, too. Liz slowly pinned Jazz.
"1…2…" Liz felt Jazz try to wiggle beneath her grasp, and she pushed all of her weight onto Jazz, "3!" Liz rocked backward on the balls of her feet, resting her back against the ropes, casting a long look toward Vince McMahon, who stood at the top of the ramp, fury in his eyes. Slowly, she spat the collected blood out from her mouth and let out a relief-filled smile as the ref raised her hand.
For a moment as she managed to stand in the light of the camera flashes and spotlights, she managed to forget everything else, and play to the fans, a true smile on her face. She'd finally gotten the No. 1 contendership for the title. Now all she had to do was get the title.
Easier said then done.
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Author's Note: Yes! I got this done before my trip! Sad when I have nothing better to do on my birthday then sit on the computer, but oh well. Anyway, I'm off to go and celebrate… Peace out people, and please review!
(This chapter was a bit long, eh?)
LittleKnux2008