"So how was your lunch date with the infamous Undertaker?"

I glanced up at the question, noting that the blonde leaning against my door had a slightly snide look on her face to match her tone of voice. I narrowed my eyes, raking her from head to toe. Cassie was one of the other writers and she hadn't bothered to welcome me with open arms. She wore tight khaki pants with a tight shirt stretched across her breasts, she was probably 5' 6" or 8" – not fat but not overly trim either. The outfit left little to the imagination but really didn't do a lot for her figure either. I watched calmly as she sauntered slowly into my office and moved some folders out of the chair across from my desk and planted herself comfortably in the chair. She made herself right at home—as if she owned the place. Or soon would.

I casually reached out and closed the folder I was working on where I'd been making notes to myself on possible storylines for Taker. Vince had made it perfectly clear that the storylines for Taker were to be kept between myself, Taker and Vince. The storylines were to be confidential until the last possible moment. Laying my arms across the closed folder, I eyed Cassie closely for a moment. I knew what her problem was – knew and understood to a certain extent. She wanted my job. She'd put in to be the head writer and failed at that twice. And then when Vince started looking for a writer to concentrate mainly on the Undertaker – one of his main Superstars then Cassie had been ecstatic. She thought she'd finally found her niche, her way to the top. She'd been one of the writers to do his Ministry of Darkness phase – her one claim to fame with his character but she'd thought it would be enough. Evidently Vince hadn't. He'd hired outside the company and in I'd walked – right into "her" job – or at least that's how she looked at it.

She let me know in the smallest of ways. My office was supposed to have been ready for me to move into four weeks ago when I arrived. When I arrived at headquarters there were boxes and boxes of files piled in here, old costumes, the furniture hadn't been delivered, nothing had been wired and set up. Cassie was the one who was responsible for setting everything up. Vince had set everything into motion and then simply turned it over to someone else – his usual style. Cassie had volunteered. She'd held off everything indefinitely and then when I arrived and nothing was done – she'd blamed it all on her assistant. And Vince had stepped in as soon as I arrived and things weren't done to his satisfaction. Within 48 hours Vince had my furniture delivered and the office cleaned out and aired out and new carpet and furniture arranged. The office was wired to my specifications and it looked like it had been my office for years instead of a day. Cassie's assistant disappeared. I'd seen her like a shadow skulking around the first day and a half I was there—her and Cassie always in the corner whispering and then breaking apart whenever I'd walk near them. The last time I'd seen them together Cassie had handed her a manila envelope. Wonder how much she'd been paid to take the fall for Cassie? It's amazing just what you can find out when you keep your mouth shut and just watch and listen. . .

But as soon as Vince got involved, Cassie's assistant disappeared. Vince made the announcement later when I was introduced to the rest of the writing staff that she was no longer part of the company. There was no explanation, simply a statement of fact that she'd failed to follow through on an important assignment and she was no longer needed.

And then Cassie made sure that I wasn't part of the rest of the writers either. At least she was trying to. The writers usually met after work for drinks on Wednesdays. I'd noticed their little meetings the first couple of weeks after I arrived. Cassie usually everything and then let everyone know the time and place. I'd never been invited to one. I've been around for the past four weeks and not once had an invitation been issued to me. I shrugged, settling back into my chair as I stared hard at Cassie and argued with myself, maybe they were waiting until I "officially" started which was just this week. The first three weeks I'd mainly met with Vince and the other McMahons and settled into my office, making myself at home and getting comfortable, getting ready to work. I smirked to myself, knowing that really wasn't the reason for no invitation but it made me feel better for a little while. I sighed to myself and thought who needed a bunch of petty little snots who wanted to play kindergarten games anyway?

I shrugged away the niggling little sensation that everyone needed a friend and settled my gaze back on Cassie, catching her in the act of straining to catch a glimpse of the folder on my desk. Leaning back casually in my chair I made sure the folder was covered before asking her blandly, "See anything interesting?"

Cassie jumped, her startled gaze jumping up to meet the icy blue eyes staring at her across the polished cherry desk. The desk that was supposed to have been hers. Her desk, her chair, her office, her job. Her man. Gathering her scattered composure, she slowly straightened her spine, determined not to let herself be intimidated. The damn woman had just started here, she—Cassie—was the one with seniority, she was the one who'd put in all the time, she was the one who'd deserved to be writing for the Undertaker. Pasting a half-smile on her face, Cassie flinched only slightly as she met Elizabeth's gaze. There was just something about those eyes, something that floated just beneath the surface that you caught a glimpse of every now and then that just made you think twice before you crossed her. Giving herself a mental pep talk, assuring herself that she was just listening to rumors—she'd heard the rumors of Elizabeth on the indy circuit too—Cassie got to her feet, keeping her face smooth, her movements unhurried. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about Beth. I—"

I stayed seated, leaning back in my chair and kept my comfortable pose. The only way you could tell I was slightly ticked off was slight narrowing of my eyes and the way my foot tapped unobtrusively against the leg of my chair. It was either that or rip some of Cassie's blonde hair out by the roots. "Elizabeth," I said.

Cassie paused, "Huh?"

I tilted my head, considering her slightly, "My name is Elizabeth. Only my friends call me Beth."

Cassie smiled but it never reached her eyes and tried again, "As I was saying, I don't know what you're talking about Beth. I just came to welcome you to the WWE."

I ignored her fake cheerful welcome, knowing she didn't mean it and I really didn't care. "I said my name is Elizabeth."

Cassie opened her mouth but hesitated at the look on the other woman's face. Finally deciding her safest course was the avoid the issue and simply retreat, she started backing towards the door. She wasn't going to learn anything today. Besides, what could they have done over lunch? Retreating toward the door, Cassie stopped with one foot in the hall and turned for one last glance at the blonde sitting so casually behind what should have been her desk. "Let me know if you need some help coming up with some ideas for the Undertaker. I've always been good at writing his character." Cassie smiled and went to step out the door.

"Is that right?" I questioned, tired of her little cat and mouse game. My voice was cool and calm as I asked the question and Cassie froze in her tracks before she turned to face me.

A smile was on Cassie's face, her brown eyes laughing at me from across the room as she faced me. "Didn't you do your homework, Elizabeth?" She put so much emphasis on my name that I almost wanted to smile. Almost.

I nodded slowly, "I always do my homework, Cassie. Never doubt it."

I saw her eyes flicker, saw her frown and could see the guilt chase across her face before she consciously got control of herself and forced a smile. Someone should tell her that frowning like that gave her wrinkles. Yeah, someone should tell her. I'd save that little tidbit for another day. I'd even be nice and point out the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth it had already caused . . . Just to be nice . . . .

"I wrote Taker's Ministry of Darkness phase," Cassie bragged, stepping back into the office, eager to point out her claim to the Undertaker.

I brought my attention back to our conversation and off Cassie's wrinkles. I nodded thoughtfully, as though truly impressed with her claim. "Actually Cassie, if we're going to be truthful here—and let's be truthful if nothing else, shall we?" I glanced at her, truly enjoying this moment. She'd been a thorn in my side for four weeks. Not drawing blood but just scraping across my skin when I least expected it. I was a little annoyed. It was time to set this relationship straight – I was not going to be anyone's door mat. I didn't wait for Cassie's hesitant nod, just went right on. "So we're being honest here, right? So for Taker's Ministry of Darkness phase it was actually a team of about six writers, all working together to come up with the details. The actual idea for the Ministry was Vince's. He wanted a heel stable and his main heel at the time was the Undertaker." I glanced at Cassie and saw the anger on her face, knew she'd expected me to simply take her word for it – that she'd written that part of Taker's past. "You were just one of many to work on that storyline."

Cassie smiled and took a few steps closer, leaning against the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. "Your little homework assignment is incomplete, Elizabeth. There were six of us that started working on the Ministry of Darkness storyline." Cassie paused, savoring her victory, she walked closer, leaning over the desk to look into those blue eyes that could intimidate so many—but not her, not this time. "But it was me—and only me—that came up with the idea to combine the MOD with the Corporation and form the Corporate Ministry." Cassie waited for the shock to appear on Elizabeth's face but it didn't happen so she ploughed right on, revealing more than she might have if she'd given herself time to think. "It was my idea to make Vince the Higher Power, to have him be the one controlling the Corporate Ministry. All my idea!" Cassie hissed, straightening with a satisfied smirk curving her lips.

I smiled at her, "Yes, I know."

Cassie's smile faded, her bombshell falling flat. "What do you mean—you know?"

My smile faded and I met her gaze without flinching, holding it without letting her drop her gaze. "Like I told you, Cassie – I always do my homework. I'm thorough. I know that you claim to have written all of that storyline, that you claim it and the other writers just shrug it off and let you. But that storyline was a group effort—all but the very end where the MOD joined the Corporation and that was your brain child. That and the Higher Power." I gave her a few minutes to soak that up before continuing, "And the way the story goes is that that is the only storyline that Taker didn't like the way his character went – but he went along with it. It wasn't his favorite and in hindsight he would never do it again – but you know what they say – hindsight is twenty/twenty." I watched the rage build on her face, could feel the waves of her anger reaching for me across the desk as I derided her one and only claim to fame in the WWE. It was amazing how calming it was to me to watch her anger burn and smolder. I watched her curiously, waiting to see what she was going to do, prepared to meet her head on if she was going to come across the desk. But I doubted it would come to that. She was more the type to come at you from behind.

Cassie stood stunned for a minute, staring at Elizabeth as she stared calmly at her out of those cold blue eyes, eyes that just calmly looked at a person as she tore their dreams out from under them. She waltzed right in and took her job—the job Cassie had worked so hard for and then she had the nerve to sit there and say that she hadn't written the MOD storyline. What did she know? She hadn't been there. She'd been on some Indy circuit writing for some unknown and never will be wrestlers. She—Cassie—was in the big leagues, writing for Taker, Kane, HHH—all the big names.

Jerking her head up, Cassie glared at Elizabeth, "Taker liked the storyline just fine. He went along with it, didn't he?"

I shrugged, "He went along with the storyline, that's true enough. He's a team player. But did he like it?" I just looked at her, knowing I was right but wondering if she had enough sense to just let the argument go.

Cassie turned and stomped toward the door, very ungraceful in defeat. "You bitch," she muttered as she crossed the threshold.

"Cassie," I called, hearing her muttered insult.

She froze but didn't have the nerve to turn around and face me. "Next time you decide to visit my office – wait until you're invited." I waited until Cassie slowly nodded and took a step before adding, "I'm a bitch who guards her privacy." I grinned as she slammed the door on her way out.

I laughed out loud and twirled my chair around, having enjoyed the confrontation immensely. Cassie was right—I was a bitch. But only when provoked. I settled back in my chair, closing my eyes and relaxing as I let the events of the day roll through my mind. I could feel the tension finally begin to ease from my system and settled a little more firmly into my chair.

"Making friends already, aren't you?"

I jerked my feet down off my desk, almost tipping the chair over in my haste. Mark stood framed in my door way, his shoulders barely fitting through the space. A small smile curled around his lips, his eyes laughing at me as I attempted to right myself without falling out of my chair or flashing him.