Chapter XXIII: Let's Talk This Through

The Undertaker and Samia arrived at the arena after RAW had started as a pre-caution to running into any particularly unfriendly people. Bradshaw unexpectedly met them in the parking lot and her stomach began to grow queasy at the sight of him, knowing something had gone wrong already. "McMahon's put you in a hardcore match," he said before she could get out of the car.

"Against who?"

"No clue. He didn't name anyone, only said he'd name your opponent right before the match."

Samia about peed on herself. "Oh my God! I am in soooo much trouble…I don't think it's gonna be you, Bradshaw," she apologetically replied.

Taker cut in on their conversation. "Let's get inside before someone decides to make the match out here." They agreed and he ushered them on in the building.

Samia tried to settle down and focus but just couldn't. Bradshaw gave her a few pointers, but he really only scared her more and she lamented her stupidity in taking the belt in the first place. When it was time, one of the staff came to get her. She picked up her harness holding her three Singapore canes and slipped on the fingerless gloves. It felt good to be out those tights and back into something that didn't stick to her body. Her entrance music was the last thing on her mind but she laughed when she heard "Simply Irresistible." When she had officially joined the nWo, the sound crew began using their theme song for her. Now, they had resorted to what Shawn had chosen for her first entrance since using RVD's music. They very well couldn't use Rob's theme for her either. Samia laughed, imagining the song as a little stab of retribution and wondering if Shawn was paying a lick of attention.

With her music still playing, she peeked under the ring to check on her arsenal of weapons. This is so insane, she thought to herself when she saw a porcelain kitchen sink. She would give up before it got that far. What kept her from giving up now was simply principle—laying down for an opponent was what the nWo had wanted her to do. Samia would be damned if she did it now. She climbed back into the ring as McMahon's music blared from the speakers, stopping her in her tracks and making her wonder if he had chosen himself as her opponent.

McMahon arrogantly stepped from behind the black curtain and announced, "I give you the next hardcore champion—Rob Van Dam!" The obscenity slipped from her mouth before she could stop it. Please don't let him kill me, she silently pleaded. Please, oh, please, don't let me die today! If anyone had a score to settle with her besides the nWo, it was him in her opinion. Rob gave her no indication as to his thoughts as he worked crowd coming down the ramp. She begged for some hint that he wouldn't beat her within an inch of her life. He wasn't the kind of person to take physical revenge against a woman but she also thought he would have at least listened to her side of the story when Adrienne and Benoit, in so many words, betrayed her. If he tried to hurt her, she would have no recourse but to fight back.

McMahon still stood at the top of the entrance and shouted down at the two of them before Rob reached the ring. "Don't for once think that I won't fire the both of you without blinking if you don't give the crowd a match."

RVD and Samia started circling each other on the mat. Her focus was drawn to the creaturely skeleton across his singlet, causing her to shiver. She twirled her canes, trying to get him to attack first. "Samia, I know you don't want this match," he calmly said, barely loud enough for her to hear over the usual crowd noise.

"No kidding. Is there by any chance we can talk this through?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

Rob didn't have time to answer as she yelled at him to look out. Steven Richards nailed Van Dam from behind with a chair. He stepped over RVD's body and swung at her but she ducked and swung at him with her canes. He instantly twirled back around and the canes shattered against the cold steel. Her instinct told her to beg for mercy and then run, even though the smart thing would be to just let him pin her. She turned to run but immediately fell to the ring after being smacked by Richards with his chair. She was barely conscious through the three count. Richards grabbed the belt and was gone before Rob picked himself up off the mat. She started pulling herself up on the ropes but Rob was immediately at her side, helping her to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked.

"As best as one can be after eating cold steel. You?"

"Yeah, I'm cool, just the usual," he replied, smiling through the pain of chairshot.

"The next time, when I say 'look out,' I really mean it," she replied, wincing and rubbing her lowerback from where the chair had hit her.

"Your smart-aleck comments are something that I've not missed," he replied, helping her down off the ring apron.

"Glad to know I'm loved," she sarcastically commented.

"Whatever." He smiled and gave her a one-armed hug before they headed up the ramp and the crowd exploded in cheers. One minute they hate me, the next minute I'm alright. Can't believe they would actually want to see me and Rob reconciled, she thought with Rob's arm around her back as support. I'm just as fickle too.

Booker T and Goldust met them at the entrance. "The nWo's coming," Booker warned. "I suggest y'all split." RVD and Samia quickly took another route back to the Undertaker's dressing room where he was leisurely taking his time to get ready.

"Listen to these idiots," Taker said, as they came in the door. "They really think they're scary. Triple H is out there wielding a sledgehammer again. Like I've not seen worse. I don't think they know when to quit."

"Not that I don't believe you're quite capable, but please be careful," Samia replied, peeling off her gloves and the long-sleeved t-shirt to reveal a tank-top. "I practically lived with them for far too long. It's almost impossible to know when they're being serious."

"I've worked with them far longer. They're just running their mouths. Wait until someone else steps on their toes. I'll be the last thing on their minds," the Undertaker explained.

"I hope it's soon but I don't think I can run from them for long," Samia sighed and plopped down in a chair.

"Not to cut you down, but they didn't even mention you," the red-headed wrestler replied.

"Fine by me. All the same. If…well, when I lose to Lita, I want out. McMahon's so pissed at me, he'll let me out."

"Why do you want out?" Taker looked at her curiously.

"Why? Duh. I'm out here on my own with a mile of pissed off people behind me. I never wanted to wrestle. Every once and a while is fine but every week is not for me. I was happy the way I was before all hell broke loose. We all know we can't turn back time. It ain't gonna happen."

"I don't think you're on your own," Taker cut in. "Just open your eyes and look around you." He said nothing else in way of explanation as picked up his belt and headed out the door.

"Okay," she drawled out once he was gone.

"He's got a point—" The knock on the door interrupted Rob. Bradshaw stuck his head in.

"I guess that title shot's out," he said with a laugh.

"Sorry. That one took us all by surprise," Samia apologized.

"It's okay. See ya next week." He waved and disappeared.

"See, chica?" Rob asked. She didn't respond because she wasn't sure that she wanted to see the obvious. They returned to watching the main event—Brock Lesnar vs. the Undertaker.

"How much you want to bet the nWo interferes?" Samia asked to alleviate the painful silence between them.

"I'll bet you a meal after the show."

"You're on," she replied and held out her hand to shake on it.

The match was intensely close between the Big Red Devil and the Next Big Thing. Samia and Rob both cringed on several occasions when they thought Lesnar had him, even if it meant RVD lost the bet.

"There they are," the wrestler stated. "Do you have psychic abilities?"

"No, I just know them more than I want to," Samia replied and then added when the carnage began to ensue, "But we might want to go out and help…Or maybe not." Lesnar leveled Michaels and Nash, which gave Taker enough time to recover and fend off Triple H. Taker chokeslammed Shawn and then turned to lock eyes with Lesnar and nod. Simultaneously, Lesnar F-5'ed Triple H and Taker powerbombed Nash. "Poetry in motion…" the ex-valet trailed off, in awe of the strength exhibited in the ring. "You owe me food!" she suddenly exclaimed, remembering their bet.

"Fair and square," Rob replied.

After the Undertaker had returned and the nWo had gone, the former couple sought out a Waffle House. Samia justified the indulgence of the greasy joint since it was food won off a bet. "Rob, you didn't have the intention of killing me out there tonight, did you?" she asked, curious to know what he was thinking when named her opponent.

"No, what made you think that?" He thought he knew the answer but wanted to make sure he was right.

"That's a no-brainer," she replied with a shrug, "Perfect time for revenge."

"I thought you might react that way," he said and then stopped to murmur a 'thanks' to the server for bringing their drinks and let her know they weren't ready to order yet. "I wasn't sure if you still hated me, so I was gonna feel you out, see what we could agree to in the middle of the match. That kind of got screwed up."

"You weren't gonna take the belt?" Samia asked, her mouth slightly agape.

"Trust me. I wanted to. I knew X-Pac would be on you like a chicken on a junebug." She almost giggled when she heard him use that phrase. He had laughed at her every time she had said it.

"When it all goes South…" she muttered to herself.

"What?" He looked at her, baffled.

"Nothing a Northerner would understand. Go on."

He paused but then continued. "Anyhow, I knew if I tried to take it, you would literally kill me with those Singapore canes."

"Quite possibly, but only because I was thinking you'd hurt me."

"That's it. I didn't want to hurt you but I didn't want X-Pac to either."

"What spawned this moment of mercy and grace?"

Rob shrugged his shoulders. "I have my reasons…" The server interrupted to take their orders. When she left, the two of them stared at the table in an awkward stillness, both mentally searching how to bring up what they both knew was on each other's minds. Rob cleared his throat and sliced the thick air of silence. "Um, Taker told me in Atlanta that you wanted to talk to me. I guess, now's a good a time as ever."

"Yeah, it's about what I've been trying to tell you for months on end," she replied, having to take a quick drink to soothe her suddenly dry throat.

"I knew that's what it was," Rob responded, guilty looking away and then focusing back on her. "I, uh, I watched the tape from that night, you know, when, uh, well, you know. I, uh, overreacted. I didn't trust you like I should have. The least I could have done was listen. Since I was, um, kind of at fault there too, it helped get me past you jumping on the nWo bandwagon." He finished by looking down at the table and then picking at his nails.

"Whoa, hold on a minute there," she defensively remarked and he quickly looked up at her. He may have just basically confessed he had been in the wrong but then nullified it with the last comment. "I didn't jump on the nWo bandwagon until you jumped on the Adrienne Bradley…bicycle."

"Bicycle? I don't wanna know where that came from. Anyhow, I never really got on the…bicycle, as you call it."

"Sure looked like it to me."

"She wouldn't leave me alone," Rob replied, a slight hint of exasperation in his voice. "I needed a pick-me-up and she seemed to care and then she just attached herself to me. I tried everything to get you out of mind. I even tried to hate you. I will never forget your face when you walked off the first time you saw us together. I couldn't cave in. I had to try to keep hating you. Adrienne was a start. It was a short fling that was fun while it lasted until she decided just one guy wasn't enough for her. So, while you were wrapped up with those guys, I finally got rid of her."

"Really? I knew I hadn't seen her around you much in a while. I hadn't really noticed," she lied. As far as she knew, no one but the photographer was aware of what went down at the calendar shoot.

"Well, you were a little too, how should I put it, busy to find that out," he accused. However, there was no hint of anger in his voice at her. You don't have a clue how busy I was when you ended it, she thought to herself, feeling a little guilty that she put him through that ordeal in the hotel hallway.

"Look," she said, putting her hands on the table as if to offer everything up. "I really don't have an excuse. I wasn't gonna run out with my tail tucked between legs. I wanted my revenge. I just enjoyed it way too much and it snowballed from there. Now I'm trying to turn my world back right side up."

Rob nodded in reply, not really sure what to say. He was grateful to see the server heading their way with plates of food. They finished the rest of their meal and only exchanged small talk.

With clean plates and empty glasses, Rob could think of nothing else to say but what the Undertaker had asked him to pass along, which he agreed with. "After Monday, don't just leave. Make sure this is what you want to do. Meet me in Columbus before the show. Me, Bradshaw, Taker, we'll watch out for you. I'm not saying you're helpless but you're right about a long line of people possibly lining up to take their chance at a swing."

"I hope to get to them before they get to me," she sighed, digging into her pocket for cash.

"Are you going back to Atlanta tonight?"

"Yeah. I know it's late, but I don't want to stay here. I should be going. Call me and we'll make some plans. What do I owe?" she asked, picking up the bill.

"I lost. Remember? Get on out of here, it's a long drive. Be careful. Talk to you later."

"Same to you," Samia replied and he quickly hugged her before she left.

The trip home was lonely and long but she needed the time to think. What's the difference in giving up now and giving up after that very unfortunate run-in with Benoit's Singapore cane? she thought. Maybe a lot more stupidity then. Maybe there is no difference. I've been through too much to go back home to a nine-to-five job in a stuffy office. But I value my health too. Maybe Bradshaw and Undertaker's on my side. I know I can trust them. Taker's one of the most respected wrestlers in the organization. I don't think I can live with the 'what if.' She rubbed the sleeve of her long-sleeved t-shirt across her nose to quell an itch and inhaled Rob's cologne from their hug. Little butterflies began to flutter to keep her awake through the rest of the drive. She then began to wonder if there was any chance for the two of them again. He was like a first love and the feeling would never go away no matter what. Shawn and Adrienne are out of the picture, she thought with a grin. Maybe we could set the two of them up…

TBC…