Title: Precognition

Author: Chimera

Summary: Only hours before their match at Final Battle, a 'crown jewel' talks to his opponent. RoH fic.


"John?"

The Pure Champion grunted, more intent on undoing the knot in his bootlaces than the visitor to the locker room. After a few seconds' silence, he dropped the boot in disgust before glancing up.

Jimmy Rave stood at the doorway, only inches away. Immediately John stood and tensed, knowing that wherever Rave went, others were sure to follow.

"Calm down, John. No Embassy, no Nana, no Killaz. Just me." As if to prove his point, Jimmy slipped into the room proper, revealing an empty hallway behind him.

"What do you want, Rave?"

Jimmy sat down with a deliberate carelessness, deliberately forgoing using any grace, next to where John had previously sat. Hesitantly Walters sat down again, shifting away slightly from the 'crown jewel'. Rave noted the move with purposefully calm eyes.

He picked up the abandoned boot under John's suspicious eyes. "How was your Christmas, John?"

That was one of those questions you just don't expect Jimmy Rave to ask.

"It was alright. Yours?" he asked carefully. He wasn't sure exactly where this was all heading, but it was starting to get a little weird.

"I gave myself a week off from the Embassy. And I wondered why I would need time off at all." Jimmy paused in his workings for a moment, then went back to fiddling with John's boot.

There was a minute of silence as if Jimmy was silently regretting saying anything. He glanced over at John's title, and he gaze never wavered as he spoke.

"Nana's going to ask you to join the Embassy.

"Win, lose or draw."

"Get out," John said quietly, though with no threat in his voice.

Even so, Jimmy rose from his seat and made his way to the door, dropping the boot on the floor.

"Rave," John said slowly, now the one looking at his title. Jimmy paused at the door, half looking over his shoulder at the Pure Champion.

"We did make a good team at Gen. Next and World Title Classic, didn't we?"

"We did," Rave echoed, a smile chasing his words. Soft footsteps accompanied his leaving, and the Pure Title was the only thing left occupying John Walters' senses.

That was, until he noticed the knot in his bootlaces had been picked undone.