Uncommon Sense Chapter 12
By Batistafan
Rating - NC-17 for violence
Distribution: If you would like to add this story to
your site that's fine, just let me know.
Main Characters include: Batista, Triple H, Chris Jericho, Christy
Hemme, Nancy Adams (Original Character).

Disclaimer: This is a mature fanfiction intended for mature readers.
This story contains violence, coarse language, as well as mature
sexual situations (some may consider explicit), and these would not
be deemed appropriate for all readers.
I do not own nor claim to have any affiliation with the WWE, its
characters, wrestlers, staff or other affiliates. I do own any
original characters that I have created, as well as scenarios that
ensue throughout the course of this fiction. However, since both my
characters and scenarios are inexorably intertwined with those of
the WWE, my ownership of them is not autonomous.
I do not endorse nor do I discourage the use of any brand-name
products that might be referenced in the fiction and have no claim
to them as they are property of their respective companies of
license. Thank you kindly for not suing.

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"But seduction isn't making someone do what they don't want to do. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already."

Waiter Rant, Waiter Rant weblog, 11-29-05

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The suspense was very nearly killing Max and it was all he could do to keep himself planted in the plush cloth seat as the WWE bus rumbled down the road headed for San Antonio. He had dialed the number of the Ambassador Hotel located by the River Walk in San Antonio just minutes ago to check on the status of the room he had reserved. Had Nancychecked in yet, had been his inquiry. Max was disappointed to find out that she had checked into the room that had been booked by him weeks ago. He was disappointed because what he had really hoped for was to find that she had checked into Dave Batista's room. He knew it was a long shot. Likely the two of them had shared a few words and parted company, but it was a nice thought anyhow. It was also, he had to admit, thrilling him beyond belief to know that Christy was eaten up by the whole damned thing!

Max had only just recently realized that his plan to spite the Diva had come together flawlessly. He'd discovered the true impact when Maria had come to his room last night, knocking and asking politely to see Nancy about a wardrobe malfunction. He knew that she had been sent by Christy and he relished the opportunity to obliterate the evil Diva's feelings. Max had been all too happy to share the sordid details of how he'd found out that Nancy had caught a ride from the arena with none other than Dave Batista, himself. Of course he'd had to preserve his lie and admit that he'd been asleep when the bus pulled away, but that he just knew the two must have gone on to the next venue, together.

Max made a big deal out of the fact that Nancy had not checked in that evening, but surely Dave would make sure she was okay, maybe they even went clubbing or something, perhaps a quiet walk to talk about things. What things, he never would elaborate on. It was just the mere implication of something intimate brought on by Max's wild embellishments, which sent Maria's eyebrows into an upward arch of surprise, letting him know that he had done the desired amount of damage.

Dave and Nancy seemed to be getting along so well, that maybe the whole meeting was intentional, at least that's what he attempted to convince Maria…just for the simple sake of seeing that the rumor he was fashioning would be sure to get right back to 'Dear old Christy'. He had made dead certain that everything he'd said implied that the two were involved in more than just innocent carpooling. The only thing Max regretted was not being able to see the look of sheer fury on Christy's face when she realized that her meal ticket had just ridden off into the sunset with the person that she currently hated the most.

Max glanced over at the seat next to him where Nancy would have been sitting and he sighed, a self satisfied expression on his face. He knew that he would never be the one for Nancy, sure he loved her, but not in the way that you had to love someone to make a lasting relationship. He knew that they would be the best of friends forever, and he hated seeing her alone. No dates in the entire time he'd known her, save for the one she'd had with the semi-pro baseball coach from her home town, and that had been a bigger disaster than the tsunami. Max had tried to set her up on several dates in the past few months, but she had refused to go on even one always making the excuse that she was too busy, too tired, or just had too much baggage…and until Dave Batista came along, he'd never even seen her take a second look at someone. It would be a shame to let this chance slip away because she wasn't assertive enough to take action.

'I'm not meddling, just assisting.' Max assured himself over and over. Nancy would never take the initiative herself and so she left him no choice, she'd forced his hand. His thoughts were interrupted by the gruff clearing of someone's throat. Max lifted his eyes and saw Vicki, his heart made a tiny flip-flop as he watched her sit down in the seat next to him without even asking.

"You seem unusually joyful." She remarked. "Lemme' guess, the hotel we're headed to boasts an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Max speared her with a glare. "You know, last night I thought we'd had a breakthrough, you and I." He shook his head in disgust. "And now as soon as I think I'm gonna try to like you, then you go off and be your old bitchy self again."

Vicki laughed softly, and he noticed her tiny adam's apple bob up and down as she did so. "Don't be mad." She demanded gently. "I was only kidding."

Max softened up a bit. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Just thought I'd see how you were faring without your sidekick."

"Fine…I am a big boy, you know." He said preparing to dodge the barrage of insults or questions, whichever came first.

"Well there's no denying that fact." She said smiling as she made reference to the fact that he was indeed a big boy.

"I guess I stepped right into that one." He admitted as a grin drifted across his face. "But at any rate, if the hotel does have an all-you-can-eat buffet, would you care to join me for lunch? You look like you could use a sandwich." He gave her thin waif-like frame a once over as he asked the question, half tempted to retract the offer if she got haughty.

"Only if you'll grant me the opportunity to purge afterward…I'd hate to have to gain a pound." She joked, "So then it's a date?"

He was speechless, that she had even accepted his offer of lunch, but he nodded his acknowledgement.

"I'll meet you at the buffet line after I check in." Vicki punched him lightly on the shoulder and made her way back to her seat to ride out the one hour remainder of the four and a half hour trip.

Now, as confusing as it all was, Max had to admit he was flattered at the very least. It was perplexing that Vicki would be hurling insults at him with deadly accuracy one day and then making attempts to be his friend the next. Maybe she had just come to appreciate the way he took care of Nancy. Girls liked that sort of thing, men who stood up for women. You could always get away with having bad looks if you were chivalrous, at least that's what he liked to think.

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The sound of weight machines clanking and the clattering of free weights being racked, as well as the loud pumping of a techno beat filled her ears the moment she stepped from the Gold's Gym foyer into the main workout area. The combination of ambient noises was deafening at the very least. The harsh glare of the overhead lights beamed down like spotlights illuminating muscle bound beasts, willow thin treadmill addicts and middle aged people trying to suck in a gut. The gym was a smorgasbord of different ethnicities and varied social backgrounds all melded together without discrimination. She walked behind him timidly, suddenly afraid, realizing that she was not at all in her element…she was in his. She felt the same way she had most of her young life…in the wrong place, at the wrong time…doing the wrong thing. Glancing to the left and right, she could see the beauties, all of the women that had been doing this for so long that their lithe athletic bodies seemed to mesh seamlessly with the equipment. It reminded her once again of how truly plain she felt she was.

He'd seen it, the look of dread that she was trying to hide. Dave knew she was hesitant at best and he felt a tremor of guilt. He hadn't meant to force her to do something she wasn't comfortable with…he'd just wanted to show her something new. Sensing her discomfort, he decided not to make her wait all alone while he went into the men's locker room to lock up his bag, instead he left the bag behind the trainer's desk, allowing them to keep their eye on it for him. He held both bottles of water in one hand, his and hers and then he led her to the treadmills and elliptical trainers.

"We have to warm up before we can lift, so you don't tear a muscle." He pointed to the machines in front of them, and then laid a hand-towel over her shoulder.

"You're gonna make me lift weights?" Her voice was barely loud enough for him to hear, and he knew that she was feeling inferior to many of the women already on the machines.

"You could just try it." He suggested softly and then was relieved when she hitched her chin up in a subconscious act of bravery and nodded. He smiled and told her. "Let me show you how to use this."

The pair finished up their run and Nancy followed behind him as he walked, head held high toward the weights. She noticed that he never ducked his head, never acted as if he were unsure of himself. He walked as if this place had been made for him and him alone. The stares didn't seem to bother him either, but she on the other hand felt like her hand-towel would be better used to cover her face up with.

Dave Batista weaved in between the machines, noting the curious looks from various people. They knew who he was, he was sure of that. He was also sure that they probably wondered who in the world was with him. Dave realized that he wanted people to wonder who he was with. And he was glad that no one knew her, recognized her. It wasn't like going somewhere with Christy. Having posed for PlayBoy magazine, Christy clearly had shown it all, there was nothing to the imagination anymore, not his and not anyone else's. Maybe that's why he was so eager to spend his time with Nancy, because she was like a puzzle, something he hadn't figured out, hadn't seen all of…yet.

He could sense her hesitation and he stopped, turning to make sure Nancy hadn't run away. He grinned as he watched her, with her head barely lifted up, trying to avoid looking at all of the other, well built, well-endowed women near the weight rack. It reminded him of how she had looked when she spilled the coffee all over Christy. He remembered that if not for her habit of looking down instead of ahead of her, then they likely would never have even met.

"Don't chicken out now." He encouraged in that same low voice she was quickly getting used to and then grabbing the other end of the towel in her hand. Like a rope he used it to tug her gently toward the rack. He pointed her toward a flat bench, and then proceeded to give her instructions on how to perform dumbbell presses. He handed her light weights and made several adjustments to the weight until he felt she had the best amount of poundage for her size. It wasn't until she lay down on the bench below him her face looking up at him in veiled apprehension that he began the battle with the beast all over again.

She had taken the jacket off and now her olive complexion was in full view. He couldn't help but admire the soft warm tone of her skin and the tiny shoulders and arms. He could also see just enough of her cleavage to start his blood boiling. He noticed how her flat tummy tapered down into a lean waist which in turn flared out softly into slender hips. Dear God, the last thing on his mind was working out. He swallowed deeply to keep his composure as he lifted the weights into her open palms, and then leaned over to assist her in the movement of the dumbbell press.

"Push up fast, but lower the weights slowly, there you go." He instructed. "Turn your wrists at the top of the motion and make sure you hold the muscles as you do the movement." Dave touched his own upper pectorals. "These muscles…make sure you press them together as you push upward." He had half a mind to touch her chest to show her how to do the exercise, but he knew if he got started he'd never stop. "Breathe out on the upward press and inhale as you start to come down, then exhale and explode back upward again."

Nancy obeyed silently as he showed her how to do several more exercises. They were new and difficult and she felt self conscious, but he continued to reassure her that no one in this gym looked like a bodybuilder or fitness competitor on their very first visit. He hefted the much larger weights for his own exercise off of the rack, and then winking slyly, he suggested she spot him.

"You gotta be kidding me." Nancy said rolling her eyes as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I am." He grinned and began to perform Arnold Presses with the heavy weights, holding them, palms facing inward against his chest and then slamming them upward above his head, turning his palms outward at the top of the movement. His already mountainous deltoids seemed to jump off of the canvas of his body and his face barely even showed the strain. He seemed to be in his own world, focused on nothing but his movement.

Nancy was so enthralled by his body's ability to handle the heavy weight and more so by the amazing condition of his physique. She found that she had trouble concentrating on her few meager exercises because she so enjoyed watching the way he was doing his own. His chiseled body dripped with sweat and his veins bulged in tandem with the ever steady contraction of his muscles. Dave Batista was a maze of hard muscles and sinew, power and prowess, in the ring; in the gym; in any place you found him. Her stomach was coiled in a heated knot as he turned to face her.

"Trouble?" He asked.

"Huh? No, why?" She said snapping out of her trance, and turning away from him to concentrate on her own tiny weights.

"You sure I'm doing it right?" He asked, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. He knew she had been watching him.

"I wouldn't know." Nancy stammered. "I was doing my own stuff."

With a crooked grin on his face, he lowered the weights, and then the wheels in his wicked mind began to revolve. "I have another exercise that I wanna show you." His secret intent was to tease her with what it was she obviously wanted but was too innocent to admit.

Nancy placed her 5 pound weights back on the floor, and stood up as he motioned with his hand.

"Turn and face the mirror." He ordered. Dave walked to the rack of EZ bars and lifted the 10 pound bar off of the rack…he grinned, thinking that his first child had weighed more than this when she was born…but everyone had to start somewhere and Nancy was new to this. "Put your feet shoulder width apart." He stood in front of her and handed her the bar.

She held the bar awkwardly for a moment until he moved around behind her. He was close enough for her to feel the heat from his body against her back even as she could see both of their reflections in the mirror in front of her. He towered over her 5'3" stature and the feeling of intimidation she might have felt otherwise was overshadowed by the restless tingling in her stomach.

The heated knot inside of her was quickly becoming an undulating mass of something Nancy could not even describe, as from behind her, he reached around to grasp the bar, his hands on hers. "Does this feel too heavy? Too light?" He inquired softly, his deep voice tickling her ear. He leaned inward, intent on making her nervous, but he caught that blessed scent again, the one that only belonged to her and he lost his concentration for a split second.

"Just right." She said, unable to speak much more than monosyllabic responses and even those were barely louder than a whisper, his chest was touching her shoulders and searing her with his heat. The sweat on his forearms was transferred to her arms at the touch, and she found she liked it, She felt almost heady with fear, anticipation and something else…

"Okay, then curl it like this." He lifted the bar with his hands still on hers, his body surrounding her. His first impulse was to rip the weight out of her hands and throw her over the bench, but he held on to his self-control. It was, after all his intention to tease her not the other way around. She deserved it, a little…since she had been watching him and then denying it when she'd been caught.

"No, no…keep your elbows in close to your sides." He instructed, using his own bent elbows to pull hers back in against her sides. This movement caused her back to seat itself against his stomach. "Now, flex the bicep and hold it, let the bar touch your chest, but not slam into it." The front of his body was still pressed firmly against her back and with his hands on hers still, his bent fingers accidentally grazed her upper breast. The unintentional contact nearly obliterated his composure. He had to stop this whole thing now or he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself for much longer. He was thinking all of the things he shouldn't be thinking.

Dave let go of her hands slowly and then cursing silently, stood behind her continuing to observe. "Keep your back straight." He ordered softly as he placed his huge palm flat against her lower back as a means of stabilization and then placed other on her shoulder. He could have removed his hands and backed away. She was quite capable of doing the exercise on her own, but he kept them there for a few more reps because he liked the way she felt, shaking and nervous. And as much as Dave Batista hated to admit it, the idea of a woman actually being visibly intimidated by his presence, turned him on…it fed the beast. He praised her for her efforts, and then suggested that they head back to the hotel.

Nancy found her throat dry and her stomach tight and hot, a swirling feeling of euphoria was pitching back and forth inside of her body and she found she had been disappointed when he had distanced himself from her in the middle of the exercise. She allowed him to take the bar from her to re-rack it and then oblivious to the curious stares from onlookers, she let him lead her out of the gym into the stifling heat of the mid-day San Antonio sunshine.

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Breezing into the lobby of the hotel, keys in hand, leaving Maria stumbling to catch up, Christy Hemme was the equivalent of an F-5 Tornado. She passed through the lobby, bound straight for the desk, her sole mission to acquire the key to Dave's room, her rightful place, and then win him back tonight with a little wine and a well orchestrated blow job. Screw Triple H and his plan, there was no way she could stand around and let that saucy little seamstress steal away her only chance at a life with someone like Dave Batista.

She dropped her keys on the counter with less than graceful elegance in order to gain the attention of the female desk clerk who was shuffling through paperwork in a small filing cabinet. Christy was regarded with an arched eyebrow and a stiff chin by the woman behind the large marble topped desk.

"How can I help you?" The woman inquired without inflection.

"Uh, well." Christy said shoving a handful of red hair over her shoulder and out of her way. "I need to get the duplicate key to my fiancé's room."

"What room number?" The woman asked, her eyes never meeting Christy's.

"I'm not sure, His name is Dave Batista." Christy said impatiently. "He didn't tell me what room he would be in, he just knows I'm supposed to be here today."

"He's your fiancé and you don't know what room he's in?" The woman asked deliberately.

"That's what I just said." Christy leaned back from the counter and huffed.

"Let me just look it up for you." The sound of the woman's long nails hitting the keys on the keyboard indicated that she was searching for the room number. "Oh yes I see…" She looked Christy in the eye. "I'm not able to give you a duplicate key, he made no notation that he was expecting a guest." The woman lied. She had read the notation made by the night clerk indicating that the man had specifically stated that there were to be no duplicate keys given out to anyone that asked for his room. The man must have been dead set on not seeing his fiancé. And being bound by the procedures of the hotel, she could not tell the woman exactly what had been notated on the gentleman's account.

"What?" Christy blurted. "That's wrong, look again." She demanded pointing to the back of the computer monitor since she couldn't see the screen. "Look it up!" She bellowed.

"Ma'am, it's not wrong, I am afraid that he didn't leave your name and so I will not be able to give you a key." The woman's demeanor never changed and she clearly wasn't going to be intimidated.

"I know it's wrong…could you just give me the room number and I'll go check and see what the deal is." Christy was beginning to panic.

"I'm sorry we don't give out the room numbers of our guests."

"Then call up there!" Christy blasted, oblivious to the ever increasing line of WWE stars forming behind her, ready to get into their own rooms.

"Ma'am, do you have a reservation in this hotel? If so perhaps we can get you into your room, if not then I have here a list of hotels that might be happy to accommodate you, as they still have rooms open." The woman was unwavering.

"I have a room, and it's Dave Batista's room." Christy matched he woman's icy glare with one of her own. "And if you like your job, then you'll get me a key before I have you fired and put your ass out on the River Walk before the hour is over."

The woman smiled undeterred. "I will repeat your options and then I will remind you that if you do not have a reservation…that hanging out in the lobby is considered loitering…and if you like your job, I would suggest that you don't put yourself in a position to have to defend your threats, otherwise you may be on a quest to make bail before your wrestling show tonight!" The woman never raised her voice to more than a normal tone, she simply tilted her head a notch to the left and smiled assertively.

"I don't…have my…own reservation." Christy faltered, near tears. "My fiancé was supposed to leave my name on the room, he always does." Christy was lying…using the word fiancé was a simple way of getting her foot in the door. A way that obviously wasn't working with this puffed up battle ax.

"Then perhaps, one of the other hotels may be able to service you until you can work things out with your fiancé, as we are booked to the hilt." The woman slid a crisp sheet of stationary across the marble desk top. Several hotel's names and numbers along with addresses were typed neatly across the sheet.

"You don't have a single room left?" Christy asked dubiously.

"That's what I just said." The woman smirked. "Now if you'll please step aside…"

"Listen to me!" Christy slammed her keys down on the counter along with her pocket book, eliciting a sharp scowl from the desk clerk. "I have to get into this hotel, either in his room or one of my own!"

The woman was clearly enjoying the conflict, despite the fact that she appeared to be at her wits end. "Maybe if you wore your hair back away from your ears, you could, more clearly hear what's being said to you." The woman remarked sharply.

"Either you have a room or you don't have a room…it's fairly simple. If you booked even a couple of days ago, then you would have gotten in, as it stands, there is a PRCA Pro Rodeo here in town, and as you well know, there are the wrestling matches…" She gestured to the row of impatient wrestlers behind Christy. "And there is a Jehovah's Witness Convention being held also. So as it stands…we…have…no…rooms." The woman watched as Christy blanched at her announcement. "Now if you would like to bunk with one of your buddies, then be my guest, otherwise please refer to the list I gave you…and kindly step aside."

Christy turned, glancing helplessly behind her for any one of her buddies. Stacy shook her head, grimacing at a small twinge of guilt. "Sorry, I'm bunking with Maria, we booked about a week ago."

"I'll take the other bed or something." Christy offered.

"There's only one bed, and Maria's already taking the floor." Stacy felt sorry for Christy, but she was on a time limit and so she edged past her toward the desk as did most of the other wrestlers.

"Trish?" Christy called out her name hoping that she would be able to help her.

"No way…I'm already sharing." Trish pulled her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. "There's a hotel, like right down the way…just check and see if they have a room…no biggie. You can always come hang out with us down here and party later."

Trish's attempt at reassurance fell on deaf ears and Christy felt the familiar burning of tears behind her eyelids. She felt like a frumpy, left-over, third wheel in her mini skirt and oversized polo top with a small soda stain on the front. No one would share with her and all because she had counted on being able to stay with Dave…that's how it was supposed to be right? They had been together for a few weeks, not every night, but for some of them. Didn't that count for anything? She was called back from silently feeling sorry for herself by Lillian Garcia, who tapped her on the shoulder. The two of them were not good friends, but there was little tension between them…their acquaintance was amicable.

"You can bunk with me." Lillian said hesitantly, but with a warning she continued. "You get the sofa, and I swear to God if you snore, I'll choke you in your sleep." She handed Christy the duplicate key and then walked away.

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Dave steered the Ferrari into the space in front of the hotel. He laughed at Nancy's description of Max's last trip to the gym, mostly because of the way her eyes danced when she talked about it…the way she laughed about his antics until she lost her breath and then the way she sighed after she had finally caught her breath once again. The things that she described were genuinely funny and he wondered why he hadn't had more of those types of experiences in his life. Maybe he'd had experiences like it and just hadn't been able to recognize them, that's what Nancy had said, and thinking back he realized that she was right. He had been able to remember a few very funny incidents that he had long since forgotten, because of her simple verbal prodding.

Nancy tucked her jacket under her arm and then stepped outside of the car, feeling much calmer now than she had been inside of the gym with her body and hormones properly in check. None of that really mattered though when she saw him climb out of the driver's seat and close the door. His body was still coated in a fine sheen of sweat, the short drive from the gym having not given him much time to cool completely off. That sight was one of the most attractive she'd seen and she had to look away.

"Thanks again for breakfast…and teaching me how to lift weights." She said as she stared at the tip of her shoe…the shoe he'd bought.

"We're not done yet…" He told her and pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes. "You only got to work your chest and arms. Next time we'll have to go after those legs." He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked beside her through the doors of the lobby.

A cool rush of air conditioning gave a blessed reprieve from the heat and the laughing pair hadn't gone very far when the intonation of a familiar voice gave them pause.

Christy was nearly all the way across the lobby when she called out Dave's name.

"Oh, shit…" He muttered and Nancy would not have heard it had she not been thinking the very same thing. It was as if he'd given a life and voice to her reflection.

"Maybe you'd better…uh…" Dave began, not knowing what he'd thought she should do, just sure that he didn't relish another one-sided cat-fight with Christy wielding the claws.

"I'll just…go on up." Nancy finished his sentence for him, "I'll see you…around." She turned and walked to the elevator and pushed the button with her finger. No sooner had she stepped into the elevator and turned, did she get a glimpse of Christy throwing herself into the thick arms of Dave Batista. The doors closed and Nancy shut her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall, thankful that she hadn't let herself fall for him. He's just like all of the others, she thought, He can only be a friend nothing more. The thoughts battled with one another for primacy, rolling around in her head like jagged marbles. He helped you…that's all. He was dating her when he gave you a ride and you knew it full well. Nancy guessed that soon he would have Christy up in is room doing God-knows-what, and now she was sure that she was better off just being one of Dave's acquaintances.

The elevator door opened and she stepped out into the hallway, remembering last night when he'd insisted on walking her to the door…'Don't think about that.'

She said to herself as she slid the keycard into the lock and swung the door open. Nancy's luggage sat neatly on the floor by the bed, meaning Max had come, but was nowhere in the room. "Thank God…" She said aloud, sinking down beside her make-up satchel and pulling out her razor. "I can finally shave my legs." She yanked the shaving cream out of her bag as well and ran off to the bathroom to take a shower. Maybe after her shower she could just get started on John Cena's project and forget all about Dave Batista.