Uncommon Sense Chapter 18
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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"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

Mahatma Gandhi, (attributed)
Indian ascetic & nationalist leader (1869 - 1948)

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"It's about time you got back to me on this!" Christy hissed through the receiver of her cell phone which had just been wiped clean of the sticky golden traces of honey.

"I've been working on it…I'm sure you know that these things take time." Paul Levesque better known as Triple H smiled as he responded in kind to the hard edge in her tone. "What's got you so irritated tonight?"

"I've spent the last 2 hours removing honey from every single thing in my handbag and to top it off, the purse is ruined! Forget about a warranty replacement on it either, because there's no way in hell they're gonna attribute this to normal wear and tear!" Christy spat, taking a glance at the thin mirrored silver Tiffany compact which was now soaking in a glass of hot water, traces of the dreaded honey floating to the top of the water's surface. "Everything in here is either ruined or hellishly close to being ruined! I know it was that little ragged, dirty, sticky, crud-covered brat!" She began to wipe around the inner edge of the lipstick lid to remove more of the golden goop.

"Batista's kid, huh?" Triple H smirked.

"After I finally get him back and start calling the shots, I've got two words for the little monster…" She furiously proclaimed. "Boarding…School!" Christy practically growled into the phone. "Here's another two…Summer…Camp! I can even give you two more! Ass…beating!"

Triple H resisted the urge to laugh, he was only too well aware of the pranks that Dave's youngest daughter was capable of playing on other people…he and Randy Orton had endured the torture of a couple of her shenanigans when they had traveled with Dave as Evolution…but that was before things had gone south with the faction and the Creative Department. "Well maybe the information that I was able to dig up on our little Wardrobe Manager will help heal your battered pride." He waited, wanting her to beg for it.

"Please tell me she's a serial killer masquerading as a seamstress." Christy wiped furiously at the gelatinous residue in the bottom of her prized handbag. "For the love of God, say it was worth the wait and that she has a criminal record of some kind, I know Dave takes that sort of thing very seriously."

"Didn't I tell you everyone has a past?" Triple H laughed cynically.

"Well, what is it?" She blurted in annoyance, slapping the ruined bag down on the mattress beside her.

"Easy…" He said in a soothing voice. "There's plenty of time for all of that, but not tonight."

"You mean I snuck into that little 'goody-two-shoes' room and risked getting caught! I even had to creep out while that tubby bastard was pissing!" She shivered in disgust. "And to think, he had his…thing…out while I was just ten feet away, yyyuck!" Christy stood up, placing her hand on her hip and yelled into the phone. "I went through all of that and you're not even going to tell me what you found?"

Triple H laughed again, a mocking rasp, as he stood outside of his house pretending to be walking the dog. "Patience was never one of your strong suits." He flicked the glossy leaf of a random plant and switched the phone from one ear to another. "I will, in due time, let you know everything you need to know…but I have a sneaking suspicion that if I let you in on everything…you'll bypass our original course of action and go straight to Batista." His voice was like a scorching arrow.

"What?" Christy paced. "No, I wouldn't do that."

"I'm right and you know it…I can already count on one hand the amount of times you've extended yourself since we decided you would back off!" Triple H's voice was menacingly low. "I can predict exactly what you're gonna do in any given situation, Christy because you're so transparent it's tiresome."

"I did not agree to help you so that you could insult me!" Christy said jabbing her finger in the air as if he were standing there. "All I have to do is go straight to Dave and tell him what you're planning and you'll be finished…and if I do that, I'll have his trust back." She reasoned pacing around the bed to the window to look up to the cabana on the hill where she knew Dave was sleeping soundly. "I might not even need you after all."

His laugh rumbled through the phone like liquid malevolence. She bristled when she heard it and genuine fear began to take root.

"You, see…" He laughed again, lightly, arrogantly. "The thing I find so entertaining, is that you actually believe that what you said is the truth." He watched the tiny Pomeranian digging furiously under his wife's roses, and was inclined to kick it. "It's funny that you really think he's going to give any credence whatsoever to anything you have to say." His voice lifted at the end of his sentence indicating that he was surprised at her philosophy. "How long, until you figure out that my way, is the only way that will ever ensure you a future with that man?"

"Well maybe we'll just test that little theory of yours." She was tempted to hang up, but his deep and resounding laughter, bordering on hysterics, forced her to remain on the line. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"Ohhh…" He let out the word on a sigh and a laugh. "You're too funny…but seriously, I want you to listen to something for me…." He laughed again. "Just hold on a minute."

Soon the distorted sound of a tape-recorded voice, crackled through the receiver, and Christy was horrified to realize that the clear and angry voice belonged to her. She could soon, clearly make out the words of the conversation she had with Triple H the day the two had spoken outside of the hotel in San Antonio. She chewed furiously on a nail, disfiguring it beyond recognition, as she was forced to recall the incriminating words that implicated her in a plot to destroy Dave Batista's career. Strangely, she took note that Triple H's voice had not even once been identifiable on the tape. "You Sonuva Bitch." Her voice had lost its devious lilt and now floated out on an icy, petrified whisper.

"Ah…so you did hear that right?" He asked nonchalantly. "Now maybe you can understand how very detrimental it would be to any future career choice you have as well as any future relationship you might hope to have with Dave Batista, if this tape were to, say…mysteriously be placed in Vince McMahon's possession?" He let the words sink in. "I don't think I have to tell you that he and I have regular contact with one another…and so you can imagine how easy it would be for him to get his hands on it, can't you?"

She held the phone in her hands, and mutilated another precious fingernail with her teeth.

"Now…it looks like we're bound by a 'blood covenant' of sorts, don't you think?" He asked in a more cheerful manner. "You can help me get what I want and I can help you get what you want, and we both have no choice but to persevere, wouldn't you agree." He waited for her verbal acknowledgement before he continued. " And now that we've cleared up this little misunderstanding, we can move forward…I found a plethora of pertinent specifics on Nancy and to say she has a troubled past is putting it lightly." He paced back and forth, tossing a small pebble at the Pomeranian and smiling when it yelped and danced out of the way.

"I was able to acquire medical records, past addresses, school transcripts, credit reports…even a criminal background." He leaned against the stone railing surrounding the marble fountain outside of the French doors that led into his kitchen. "And now that you understand I'm doing my part, then you'll do your part…and stay away from him." His words ended on a lethal note and he slowly removed the phone from his ear, snapping it shut.

Christy's anger didn't last long as she began to ponder what he could have possibly found in Nancy's past, but without any details whatsoever, all she could be left with was her curiosity and the task of removing the jellylike mess from her keychain.

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"Thank you." Nancy smiled and accepted her change from the gift store clerk and then tucked the magazine under her arm, took the bottled water and two gift bags in hand and slid a cumbersome cardboard tube under the other arm. Shuffling her load, she stepped outside of the well stocked gift shop and made her way over to a table near the front desk, where she readjusted her slipping cargo.

Sliding her hand inside the tube, she pulled out the two original screens for John Cena's tribute shirt. They, along with the finished shirt had been over-nighted by the screen printing company that Nancy had commissioned to complete her design. Nancy nodded with satisfaction when she realized that the screens were carefully wrapped in the acid-free, lignin paper and cautiously rolled as they should be…they were a copyrighted original and now belonged solely to John Cena. She let out a contented sigh and a pleased smile when she pulled the shirt from it's wrapping to survey the results…it was even better than it had been on paper and she secretly hoped it did something to help heal his heart.

Nancy folded and rewrapped the shirt in the tissue paper placing it carefully in the gift bag and then taking one last look at the swimsuit she had fashioned for Vanessa, she rewrapped it in tissue paper also and slipped it into the second gift bag. She then lifted the array of items, determined to deliver them to John Cena and then find a buffet before she whittled away to nothing. One cup of morning coffee certainly had not been able to sustain her. Nancy didn't have to look far, as soon as she turned to leave she spotted John, walking alone, in through the doors of the main lobby. He saw her right away, acknowledged her with a nod, and then smiling he proceeded toward her.

"Last minute shopping?" John asked, noting the jumble of items balanced precariously in, on and under her arms.

"Well I am having my first match tonight, so it could be the last time you ever see me." She joked, juggling the items.

"Naw, you'll be fine." John laughed briefly and reached out offering to help her with the load.

"These two are actually yours." She motioned to the tube and the larger gift bag. "There are two screens in there, for your own use…it's your own personal copyright and no one can ever use it without your permission." She could tell by the look on his face that he was touched beyond normal appreciation. "Just put them in a safe place when you get a chance."

He nodded and then offering to pay he asked, "How much…uh…how much do I owe you?"

"Let's worry about that sometime later when we're all not so busy." Nancy responded not at all sure that she even wanted to set a price on something of this nature. His appreciation was more than enough because it reminded her of how many times recently she had been helped without a price tag attached.

He nodded again and then hugged her, careful not to crush the package and then excused himself.

Nancy tucked her magazine back under her arm, thankful that her load had been lightened and she ventured toward the door. She was again stopped by the breathtaking sight of Dave Batista, arm in arm with both of his daughters, walking through the lobby doors. He cut a striking figure, even at 7 a.m., when most other wrestlers were still abed nursing a hangover. His eyes were covered by the trademark, lightly tinted sunglasses he always wore, but she could still detect a faint ripple of pleasure when their eyes locked and held.

The trio stopped in front of Nancy and she could scarcely even breath, still trapped by the invisible cord that his gaze had created. Vanessa was the first to speak, with a gleeful "Hello!" and then a wide-eyed "Hey!" as soon as she caught a glimpse of the magazine under Nancy's arm.

"You got Devote?" Vanessa asked excitedly pointing to the folded publication.

"Yeah I did…you know I'm surprised they would even sell it here in a gift shop, normally you have to go to a newsstand to get it." Nancy referred to the quarterly publication of the little known fashion design magazine that detailed the latest styles around the globe. "I try to get one whenever I can…it sort of gives me an edge, I think."

Vanessa unhitched her arm from her father's and pointed to the magazine. "Could I?" Nancy could tell the teen was nearly foaming at the mouth in her desire to take a peek at the magazine.

"Oh...sure." Nancy said allowing the teen to flip through the pages of the magazine, secretly impressed that someone Vanessa's age had even known what it was. "Oh, and before I forget…this is your swimsuit." She handed away yet another facet of the load she had been carrying and reveled in the excited squeal that came from Vanessa.

Dave watched the interaction between the two with interest, as Audrey hugged his leg, her helmeted head looking down at the floor. "Daddy I'm hungry." He could barely hear her say it, but he leaned down and reminded her that they were headed in the direction of the restaurant. There was something inordinately comforting in the knowledge that his oldest daughter approved of Nancy. That feeling soothed the slight stab of jealously he'd felt when he'd strolled in with his daughters, and seen John Cena hugging her. He knew it was only because she had done something nice for him in the way of a design, yet still it had provoked some barely bridled wrath inside of him and a caustic insult from his inner animal.

Yet seeing her here chatting with his daughter about a dress on page 10 that he would never in a million years allow Vanessa to have, seeing her laugh and push the shiny cinnamon curls over her shoulders, wearing the most attractive pair of beat up blue jeans…made him wish that he could freeze the moment and play it back over and over again.

"I do have something for you." Nancy turned her attention to Audrey, smiling. "You actually left me a huge surprise last night and I wanted to return it." She lifted her purse up and began to dig for something.

Audrey, who had been trying to avoid looking at Nancy, was now very timidly lifting her eyes to see what she knew would for sure be the pokey weapon. Her chin began to quiver, she could feel the tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she just knew that this lady was going to tattle. It wouldn't do any good to try to tell the lady that she hadn't meant for her to get her butt poked, because as soon as she pulled out that weapon to show Daddy, then Audrey would make that upset face and tell her that what she did was just horrible and Daddy would ground her forever while she was here and then he would tell Mommy and there would be big trouble.

She held onto her father's leg, none to eager for this lady to find what she was digging for. Wasn't it enough that she was going to have to sit the whole night while this lady let Vanessa work? Wasn't it enough that she wouldn't get the 'Protector' job she had been promised? Audrey suddenly wished her Daddy hadn't made her leave her sword at the cabana, because if she had it now, she could hold the lady hostage and then she couldn't be a big fat tattler!

"I know it's in here somewhere." Nancy said her eyebrows pleating as she rummaged through the purse. "Aha! I knew I brought it." She reached down to where Audrey was staring pitifully at the floor and handed her the half eaten pack of gum, which she had found on the floor by the chair after Max's accident. "I stole a piece last night when I found it…it's just very hard for me to resist watermelon. I hope that's okay."

Audrey's head popped up and a look of confusion mixed with sheer relief washed over her face. This lady hadn't told Daddy on her! If she had found the gum, then she had found the pokey weapon. She could have tattled if she'd wanted…but she didn't. The lady didn't even act like she was mad. "It's okay." The words slipped past Audrey's lips so softly that they could barely be heard.

"I'm glad…I was sort of worried since I didn't have your permission." Nancy didn't have to wonder why the tiny girl looked so relieved and troubled at the same time. She would just about bet that Audrey hadn't left the metal burr on purpose, mostly because of the remorse that was apparent in her behavior. She knew that if Audrey had meant to plant the burr, then she wouldn't have expressed contrition and now she just had to find a way to reassure her that it was okay. "You'll probably need some more for tonight while you're at work…" She held her hand to the side of her mouth as if she were telling a secret. "But Max likes watermelon too…so be careful or else he'll get into it when your not looking."

Audrey's face split into a grin, her heart filling with joy because the lady hadn't tattled and she hadn't taken away the job. She put the bubble gum in her pocket and grasped her Daddy's hand, leaning in against his leg. "Thank you." She said softly.

The instant change in his daughter's disposition had not been missed by Dave, and he suspected it had more than just something to do with bubble gum. The fact that she had been on the verge of tears since last night after leaving the arena, and then more of the same since waking, had made him flustered beyond belief, but the few words spoken to her by Nancy and the return of the gum had elicited a smile that he was sure he would not have been able to get on his own.

"I love this one…" Vanessa pointed to a pair of slacks, with a suit-style top, fitted in the torso and complete with a plunging V neckline. "But I know I'll never get to have it, not as long as…" Dave reached over and glanced at the page, taking it between his thumb and forefinger.

"No way." He said shaking his head, as Vanessa gently tugged the magazine away from him.

"I was talking about the pants, Daddy." She said scowling. Vanessa turned to resume her discussion with Nancy when she spotted Christy Hemme, entering the lobby in a whirlwind of fury, making a beeline for the foursome, a small Gucci bag in hand. The look of budding panic on Audrey's face told Vanessa all she needed to know and the sudden comprehension that her sister had yet again committed a heinous act and was about to be called out by Christy for it, bolted her into action. She'd be darned if she'd let Christy embarrass Audrey in front of everyone and doubly darned if she would share her Daddy with someone who treated them like they were baggage. "So you didn't have breakfast yet, right Nancy?" Her words were speedy bordering on frantic.

"Well no, I was just gonna get a buf…" Her words were cut off by the sudden jerk of her arm by Vanessa causing her body to slam into the teenager's side. "Good then you can eat with us."

Nancy was surprised at the girl's strength, but before she could politely decline, Vanessa spouted. "Daddy doesn't mind, right Daddy? You don't mind." The teen laced her fingers through her father's huge hand and began to lead him away.

"I think that's a good idea." Dave said, a confused frown marring his brow. He'd seen Christy coming and had secretly prayed for a distraction of some kind, but never had he expected his 5'6" teenaged daughter to forcibly invite Nancy to breakfast, by nearly yanking her much shorter 5'3" frame off of her feet. Having Nancy join them was something he had been ready to suggest, but his daughter had beaten him to it, and he was pleased with the prospect of them all being together as a group, sans Christy, who had thankfully veered off and retreated.

Watching Nancy from behind, he admired the inherent feminine sway of her hips, as she walked in the forcible captivity of his oldest daughter, who had linked arms with her, casting a lingering glance over her shoulder into the lobby. Keeping his mind off of Nancy's unintentional charms was made all the more difficult by the way she was dressed, a mix of casual and country, the tattered blue jeans paired with the soft white lace of an old cotton sundress which had been shortened to serve as a shirt. It was cinched loosely in the middle with a chocolate brown satin ribbon, reminding him of the curves that his hands had memorized the night before last. The same satin ribbons served as straps, their deep color only making the olive skin of her shoulders more appealing. 'As if she isn't appealing enough already.' He thought ruefully. 'Don't forget, you still have the gym time with her that you promised… you can always indulge when you're there.' The animal taunted, hinting at darker desires. Dave was in the presence of his daughters and he reminded himself that he had to behave…but he didn't want to…and the beast in the cage was cursing up a violent storm.

The foursome found a table near the window and Dave began politely pulling out the chairs so that his group of ladies could be seated. He noticed that while Vanessa had already eagerly latched onto Nancy, Audrey was gradually sidling up to her…she had abandoned the idea of sitting between her father and Vanessa, opting to sit between Nancy and himself instead. He found that act interesting and watched with amusement as she began to lean over toward Nancy, hoping with enthusiasm to be allowed into the conversation about fashion.

Nancy asked her opinion several times, seemingly impressed when Audrey spouted off something about making 'this dress' or 'that suit', with Dora the Explorer somewhere on it. Their breakfast was passing all too quickly with Dave feeling less and less a part of the group and yet still content to sit back and watch Nancy be monopolized by his daughters. Audrey had put in her two cents, recommending that Nancy design weapon pouches for some of the clothing, explaining that it was important to be armed at all times. Vanessa had promptly disagreed and rolled her eyes, but Nancy suggested that perhaps she should make a type of sheath built into the side of the pants to house a sword…this caught Audrey's attention and to Dave's amusement brought forth a huge smile and another long run-on sentence of suggestions from his little girl.

In the midst of their breakfast, Dave was approached by a group of teenaged boys, seeking autographs and offering their congratulations for his performance and Audrey used this as her opportunity to talk to Nancy in secret. Reaching up she tugged on the side of Nancy's shirt and then when Nancy leaned down, she whispered in her ear. "Thanks for not being a big tattler." She spoke softly, timidly. "I didn't mean for you to get your butt poked." Her voice took on a pre-cry whisper.

Nancy turned and looked at her eyes, picking up immediately on the hopeful and yet remorseful gaze. "I didn't get my butt poked." She whispered. "I know you didn't mean to leave it there." No one could hear them, and she knew that she had only one chance to save the little girls feelings. "It's okay…and I didn't tattle because I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"You didn't get your butt poked?" Audrey whispered back, shocked and relieved.

"No." Nancy whispered in response. "But Max did." She watched as the conflicted look returned to Audrey's face.

"He's not mad either…he knows you didn't mean for him to sit on it." She witnessed the girl's face relax immediately. "Next time I think we should just stick to whoopee cushions or something."

Audrey nodded, vowing silently that she would never, ever again make another dangerous weapon like that. "Did he holler?" She knew she shouldn't ask, but she just had to know…if the weapon had worked the way she had intended.

"It was the loudest thing you ever heard." Nancy whispered smiling, noting the satisfied but hesitant grin on Audrey's face. She knew that this would probably be the last of the young girl's paperclip related pranks.

The conversation between the two was interrupted by the gentle electronic trill of Dave's cell phone, and he excused himself to take the call. His face soon changed from amused interest at the whispered conversation between Nancy and Audrey, to one of veiled concern. When he hung the cell phone up, he asked Vanessa if she would mind taking Audrey to the bathroom.

After the two girls were out of sight, he informed Nancy that he would be taking them to the airport for a flight home to Seattle. Their plane would be leaving at 6 p.m. Nancy nodded her understanding, a tremor of disquiet tracing a path through her body. She knew that if he wasn't at the arena during her match, she would never be able to feel comfortable getting in that ring.

"My ex-wife's mother, Leticia, has a pacemaker that was recalled recently." He referred to the rash of faulty pacemakers that Doctors all over the world were scrambling to replace for patients, before they failed altogether. "Her Doctor has scheduled her for surgery tomorrow at noon and Angie thinks it would be wise for the girls to be home just in case." He slid the phone back into his pocket. "I agree with her…Leticia's not in medical crisis, but I think they should be there in the event that something goes wrong."

"Definitely." Nancy nodded, slightly saddened to know that they were going to leave and she wouldn't be able to get to know his girls better.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. "Thank you." He said locking gazes with her.

"For what?"

"For having breakfast with us…for Vanessa's swimsuit…" He reached across the table to touch the citrine ring on her forefinger, and then to run his fingers down the back of her hand, clasping it in his own and turning her hand over in his so he could very gently kiss the palm. "…For making my daughter smile." He laid her hand back on the table, still touching her slender fingers with his own. "You know she pouted and was in near tears all night and half of the morning over that pack of gum." He explained, still suspecting that her tears were due to more than the gum.

"Well you know girls…" Nancy commented, unable to think of anything more than the searing heat in her palm where he had just kissed, the disarming warmth of his fingers on hers, and the violently unsteady hammering of her heart. "Sometimes our emotions run over us."

He wouldn't tell her that his daughter wasn't the only one with out of control emotions. "Thank you." He said again, hearing her respond with "You're welcome", and then releasing her hand reluctantly when his girls returned to the table. Dave gave a brief recap of his call home and then amidst a chorus of disappointed groans from his daughters, he announced that they should go pack and then he stood up. "After I pack them, I'll meet you in front of your cabana so we can train and then I'll take them swimming a little later on before their flight, maybe you'll feel like joining in?" He hoped she would say 'yes'.

Nancy nodded and prepared to stand and tell the trio goodbye, she was stopped however, by Audrey who had extracted her hand from her father's and run, scrambling up into Nancy's lap for a hug. "I'm sorry and thanks for not telling Daddy on me." She whispered again in Nancy's ear, wrapping her tiny arms around her neck. Nancy was caught off guard, surprised and baffled, but pleased nevertheless. Audrey didn't stop there, she planted a very hard, very sticky kiss on Nancy's cheek and then pulled back with a smile and said "You smell good…like strawberries."

Dave was floored by the simple revelation. That's exactly what it had been…her scent…the scent that strangely he hadn't been able to pin down for the life of him, the scent that had been driving him mad every time he had been in close proximity to her, touched her, kissed her. That enticing aroma of patchouli spice and…strawberries? And by damned it had taken his tiny tornado of a daughter and her sticky kiss to reveal it. He pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes, and held back the smile playing at the corners of his lips, as he watched Audrey scramble of Nancy's lap and slam into his leg again, wrapping her little arms around it. Vanessa too, hugged Nancy and thanked her generously for the swimsuit, promising again and again to work hard on her designs so that the next time they saw one another she would have something for Nancy to look at. 'Next time' He thought, and realized that he hoped there would be.

There was a soft spoken reminder from him of their meeting later, and then she watched as Dave Batista, with one muscular arm, whipped his littlest daughter up onto his hip so he could carry her and then straightening her helmet as they walked away, she could see that he was listening intently to her words. Nancy watched as Vanessa turned once more and waved and she was silently grateful that those girls had the family life that she had never had. Their parents were divorced yes, but they had a devoted, responsible mother and a wonderful and attentive father. They would grow up just fine.

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"We won't get in trouble for being in here?" Nancy asked timidly, following Dave Batista up the steel stairs into the 24' by 24' RAW ring, which had not yet been disassembled, as it was needed for Monday Night RAW live…the second WWE appearance in Puerto Rico.

He sat on the middle rope, holding it down so she could step over it into the ring.

"Of course not…we both work here remember?" He came up off of the rope and watched her turn around staring up into the lights of the empty arena.

"So this is what it's like, huh?" Nancy turned slowly a mixture of wonderment and fear on her face. "This is intimidating."

"At first…" Dave nodded in agreement. "But after awhile it gets better…it becomes an addiction, you learn to feed off of it and then there's no fear anymore." His words seemed so sincere, as if he truly felt them in his heart and she wondered if she could ever come to a point in her life where there would be no fear.

"You're not going to body-slam me are you?" She asked wringing her hands apprehensively.

He almost laughed out loud. "No I won't." He decided against telling her how tempted he was to do that very thing, only not inside a wrestling ring and not with the intention of letting her kick out before the count of three. He warned the inner animal to stay silent and then approached her, all the while explaining to her how it was customary to work the left arm in wrestling. "You'll automatically be able to rest assured that he's never going to grab you by the right arm, only the left." He grasped her left arm gently and pulled her forward. "When he pulls you, don't fight him…" He spoke seriously, looking her in the eyes. "Let him. You aren't strong enough to counter him, you'll only get hurt."

He pulled her completely forward, toward his body as he informed her, "He'll send you past him and when he turns, like this…he'll place his hand on your back and push you into the ropes." Dave stopped there. "Now here's where it gets tricky for someone who hasn't trained…" He explained. "Don't just try to go flying into the ropes with the front of your body, because you'll only bounce off and fall on your ass." She nodded, smiling. "When you're about to hit the ropes, turn your body, like this…" He used his own body for an example. "Let your right side, sort of almost on your back…" He said, bouncing into the ropes himself. "Let your body hit like this, grasp the rope with your arm over it and then as you bounce off, take a step…don't forget to take a step, or you'll fall flat on your face and then he's just gonna be all over you."

After a few minutes of instruction, Nancy decided that he was quite capable of teaching her everything she could possibly need to know, he was surprisingly agile for his immense size and lightening fast, but he was also very patient; something she appreciated. Nancy was happy that he had dispensed with the wrestling lingo, in lieu of plain English, during the course of his tutelage. "He's probably going to play up to the cameras using your inexperience to do it…and so I'm guessing he'll wanna stay in close to you for most of the match…doing things that require little to no wrestling knowledge….things that look a whole lot rougher than they actually are." Dave rounded on her and then with reluctance, explained that he was going to teach her how to take a bump. "You have to know how to fall or else when he hits you, and rest assured he will hit you, you'll go down wrong and it's gonna hurt even worse." He explained to her the basics on how to fall flat on her back, with her legs bent, rather than on her rear-end, where she could possibly injure her tailbone. "Don't put your arm down or you could break it and after you fall, roll over and get up…keep your fingers bent inward so they don't get stepped on."

He worked with her on the movement, surprised that she never complained. Time after time, slamming backward into the mat…she had the movement down in just a few minutes.

He lifted her up, pulling her by the arm and watched her rub her lower back with one hand, as she laughed. "Now I know why I chose design as a career." He smiled. Even though he had great respect for female wrestlers, he knew, looking at her, that she didn't belong in the ring, and he didn't want her there either. But pushing aside his thoughts and resuming his instruction, he motioned for her to stand against the turnbuckle. "He's famous for choking people, and since I know he'll want to be close for most of the match…I'll almost bet he'll choke you into the corner." Dave was hesitant to show her how to be choked and sell it well, he had never put his hands on a woman in violence and it bothered him to do it just for the purposes of teaching He stood in front of her as she backed into the corner, and watched as she looked up at him through her lashes, biting the inside of her cheek. "His hands are going to end up, about…right here." He placed his hands at the base of her throat, his jaw pulsing with the conflict, the incomprehensible thought of someone putting their hands around her neck. "Thumbs upward, he'll just press in and…" His hands on her silken skin and the look of absolute fear as her hands flew up to grasp at his wrist before he could even apply any pressure. Though it was only meant to prepare Nancy, the act of choking her, so galled him, that he could go no further and he pulled his hands down from her neck slowly. He was breathing heavier than before, the recognition of something likened to terror flashing behind her eyes…it was as if she had lost her breath before he'd touched her…he saw the way her eyes could not meet his instead they riveted from left to right, the tip of her tongue darting out to rewet her lips. Nancy sighed heavily. She had been afraid and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"When he does that…" Dave cleared his throat. "Stand on your toes, and press your back against the turnbuckle, jut your hips out a bit and it will take the pressure off of your lower back, It also looks good for the camera but don't lean forward or you'll lose your balance." He watched her subtly shake off the haze of dread that had cloaked her and she lifted her chin rebelliously the way she always did when she was trying to be brave. He worked with her for another half hour, showing her as much as he could possibly squeeze into the tight timeframe, but he was still afraid that it wouldn't be enough.

"Now I'm going to show you how to tap out to his signature submission move." Dave led her to the center of the ring. "Lie down on your stomach." The simple command sent a shock of desire through his loins, but it was her unquestioned obedience, her unspoken trust, that caused the animal to revolt against the idea of gentlemanly restraint. He knew what he wanted to do to her while she lay there, and it had nothing to do with teaching her how to tap out. He had an irresistible urge to shake the top rope until all four corner posts snapped. He stood there for a moment trying to calm his body, despite the rebellious voice of the beast.

"Well if it takes him this long to make me tap, then there may be hope for me winning yet." She said mockingly. "Are you in there?"

He snapped back into reality. "You know what, turn over and I'll just show you the move from the beginning…remember…you're supposed to lose, so don't try to kick him off, just let him get you into 'The Walls' and tap out right away."

She turned over on her back, and looked up at him, towering over her. He was formidable, a veritable mountain…more than a bit intimidating. She was glad he was for her and not against her.

"He's gonna grab your legs like this." He lifted her legs, causing her to slide forward. Ignoring her cry of surprise…he tucked her legs between his arms and torso. But the feel of the inside of her thighs around his waist was very nearly ripping his self-control to shreds. "He'll turn you over, like this, pushing you downward and stepping over your back." His voice was strained. "Turn with him." He said starting the roll, and stepping over her back. He bent his legs locking in the move.

"Ow, ow, ow! Okay, okay!" She hollered out, tapping the mat furiously and laughing.

He chuckled and released his hold on her legs. "I didn't even apply much pressure."

"I know, but it still hurts." She admitted and he knew that it did. She rolled over on her back and accepted the offer of his hand to help her to her feet.

"I feel a lot better about the match." She lied…she didn't feel better about it, she didn't want to get into a ring. Even though she had enjoyed his teaching, she would rather be watching him tear through countless opponents than be inside of these ropes herself defending her own body against just one.

Dave knew Nancy was lying, he could see the divergence in her eyes and her the denial in her words. He hated the thought that he'd failed her in his attempt to talk Eric Bischoff out of the match. And even though he knew that wrestling was a prearranged orchestration of entertainment…he also knew that she had the potential to be hurt, and that was causing him immeasurable guilt. "I'm glad, I could help." He said softly…he would let her save face, preserve her pride…because it's what he would have appreciated had he found himself in her shoes.

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Her long curls whipped back when she lifted her head, after dry-heaving for the third time since reaching the arena. Nothing noteworthy would be coming up, that she well knew. Nancy had been so nervous that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She'd been apprehensive about swimming with Dave and his girls, nervous about Vanessa and her swimsuit, but thankfully it had fit perfectly, been just as tasteful as she had intended it to be and Dave had approved. It was a weight lifted off of her shoulders, only to be replaced by the looming black cloud of Chris Jericho.

She had less than fifteen minutes until her match started and Dave was nowhere to be found, she was hunched over a not so fresh toilet in the women's locker room and Max was hounding her from outside of the stall. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she had half considered flushing her own head down the toilet.

"Would you stop doing that?" Max asked tapping the stall door, referring to the involuntary dry heave.

He wasn't able to see the finger gesture that followed as Nancy flushed the toilet yet, again.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, a frown marring his face, as he leaned against the wall.

"Nope…I always dry heave when you're around." Nancy answered sarcastically.

He noticed that her voice was shaky and weak, as she sat down on the bench in the bathroom. "You're not supposed to be in here anyway." She remarked with her eyes closed, her head leaned back against the wall.

"I don't care, besides etiquette doesn't matter to me right now anyhow." Max kneeled down in front of Nancy and took her trembling hands in his. "Okay, I know lover-boy showed you some moves and what not, but I have a plan and I think if you can remember to follow it, then everything will come out all right."

"Max, "She said frowning. "Stop using slang names…My brain is only working on one cylinder as it is and I swear I feel like I can't breathe." She pushed his hands off and walked to the sink, splashing cold water on her face. She could imagine herself sealed inside of a metal can…feeling terribly claustrophobic.

"Well, that's why you need my help." He said as she sank back down on the bench. "My plan is for you to stay away from him as long as possible, just run around in the ring if you have to, but don't let him get his hands on you." He was bent excitedly in a feigned fighting stance. "Then when he corners you, kick him in the nuts!"

She faced Max with an incredulous stare. "That's your plan?" She spoke calmly, yet surprised. "Run around and then kick him in the nuts?" She shook her head. "Max did your mother give birth in a room full of magnets?" She watched him shake his head as if it were a completely legitimate question. "Thanks for the advice, but I think I'll stick to what Dave showed me."

"Now, Nancy…I'm telling you it'll work…I've been kicked in the nuts enough to know." Max held on to his jewels as if the mere mention of it might curse him into revisiting the event.

"I'm not supposed to win, Max." Nancy said standing up just as a female producer stepped inside the bathroom, motioning for her to follow.

"I'll be by a monitor." Max gave her a quick hug and watched as she walked away with the producer as if she were being led away to the gallows.

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Sitting in the very top tier of the arena, concealed in the shadows, Dave felt much better than he had a half hour ago, when he'd been hauling ass down the road, praying that he would make it back to the arena and that Eric Bischoff hadn't bumped Nancy's match up just to spite him. He had taken his daughters into the airport, put them on the plane, watched the behemoth Boeing lift off and then he'd raced back as fast as he could, arriving through a back entryway only ten minutes before the match.

He had decided against visiting Nancy before the match. He knew if had seen her face, that he wouldn't have let her go through with it. The temptation had struck him halfway back to the arena, that he should just abduct her and run away again while he still had the chance…the logic of what consequence she might in turn face, for his behavior was the only thing that stopped him from doing so.

Dave Batista fixed his eyes on the center of the ring, where Lillian Garcia had now assembled. Her clear voice rang out in announcement. "Ladies and Gentleman…" She began. "This next match will be Monday Night Raw's very first Inter-Gender, Intra-Staff Match!" She circled as she spoke. "This match is a No Disqualification match…There will be no count outs. The winner may win by pin fall or submission."

He listened as she began to introduce Chris Jericho and the lights began to fade and then flash with his entrance music and video. Dave's jaw, convulsed repeatedly, as he contemplated the impending scuffle. The typical hoopla ensued as Chris climbed the steel steps and leaned against the ropes in his usual fashion. He had a deviant glare etched into his face and a surety that irked Dave Batista to barely leashed fury. He couldn't help but feel that if it were he and Chris about to engage in battle, that the petulant look on Chris's face would not have been there.

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Nancy stood behind the curtain listening to the soothing verbal prompts from the female producer who was prepared to help cue her out into the arena. As soon as Lillian began to announce her, the producer smiled and nudged Nancy in the back. She moved forward, out from behind the curtain and into the blinding, explosively loud atmosphere of the crowded, somewhat venomous arena. There was no entrance music for Nancy but there was plenty of animosity from the crowd. She couldn't help but feel a little bit like she was being forced to walk the plank, only without the beautiful dress or the chivalrous sailor to rescue her and…with every pirate in the world looking on, awaiting her fate. She half wished that someone had taken the time to give her some sort of entrance theme…even Doink the Clown's entrance would have been better than nothing. Nancy couldn't look to the left nor to the right…She could do little more than stare forward as she descended the ramp slowly. The insults that Chris was hurling at her from the center of the ring, like fiery darts, were pumping the crowd up, and she felt something uncomfortably familiar…she felt hated.

He watched with empathy as she walked down the ramp, no music, wearing the workout suit he had bought for her more than two weeks ago, minus the jacket, which exposed her tiny frame. She looked so small in comparison to Chris, almost like a little girl. The only difference was that she was walking, however fearful, with her shoulders held high and her chin, stiff as ever. She was determined to appear brave even if it proved to be the death of her, and Dave thought remorsefully, 'It very well may be'

Chris was hungry for a little old fashioned revenge, even though he knew he was supposed to take consideration for her lack of knowledge. There was no harm in showing her why it was foolish to mess with someone of his caliber. He had thought long and hard about all of the subtle things that he could do just to strike fear in her…to teach her a much needed lesson about manners and about minding her own business. He had been told by Eric to play up to the crowd, but to show care in how he dealt with her…and yet he had also been told that he had carte blanche with her if he chose to play mind games. 'Scare the hell out of her if you want, just don't injure her.' Eric had ordered. Well, Chris couldn't control everything in the known universe, now could he? And so if she got a little boo-boo while in the ring, then so be it. He smiled at the prospect of the damage he could inflict.

Nancy stepped hesitantly between the ropes into the ring and was barely granted a moment to right herself, when the bell was rung and Chris began to slowly circle her, laughing and jeering. The look of malicious disdain on his face caused her to freeze suddenly devoid of the few things she had learned. If this were supposed to be prearranged, then why in the world did he look so ready to smash her into pieces? She turned to face him as he began to scold her for the deed of trashing his keys. It wouldn't do any good to tell him that she hadn't done what he accused her of. A verbal defense had never helped in Nancy's experience and so to maintain her pride, she simply shrugged her shoulders as if she couldn't care less.

The gesture infuriated Chris, who instantly reached out and seized a large section of the hair on the back of her head, pulling her up so that his face could be nearer to hers. She cried out in pain and surprise as he clenched his jaw and spoke to her harshly. "You know…I was gonna take it easy on you since it's your first time…" He took a moment to glance down the front of her body and then shook her forcefully. "But now that I know you're not sorry for what you did…and you're just gonna be a smartass…then I'm going to do all the things I was asked not to do!" His voice was a violent low growl, his face contorted into a fearful glower and she had to grasp his forearms to keep her balance. His hands were tangled through her curls, as he walked her backwards toward the ropes. "I just bet you'll be begging me to forgive you before this match is over." He let go of her hair, shoving her backward.

Nancy managed to keep her balance as she was shoved backward into the ropes, but the anger that zipped through her blood at the harsh threat was almost uncontrollable. She was more humiliated than she had been in a long time, and as he stood in front of her laughing and pointing, she lifted her arm with all of the force she could possibly muster and slapped him squarely in the face. If he could play rough then so could she.

Dave could see Chris' head reel from all the way in the top tier and he nearly laughed out loud. He hadn't taught her that particular move, but he approved of it nonetheless. Despite his pride in her, he knew what was about to happen. He could clearly see the pure rage radiating from Chris as he whipped Nancy forward into the ropes. She turned just as he had taught her, at the last second. Dave flinched, seeing the twist of Jericho's hip, a precursor to a hell of a devastating kick. Dave knew that the whole match would be over in seconds if he made contact. Nancy must have seen it or sensed it for she hung her arms behind the rope, preventing the slingshot and thus keeping herself from being kicked fully in the face. Dave felt a wash of nausea, but relief…she seemed to have an instinct for bad intentions, because for the next thirty seconds she successfully evaded his attempts to grab hold of her.

He finally caught her by the arm and in a blind rage, slinging her into the turnbuckle. Thank goodness she had remembered to turn around so that her back would hit and not her face. She looked absolutely terrified as Chris loomed down upon her, wrapping his hands around her neck, just as Dave had known he would.

Nancy felt as if the life was slipping out of her, as he pressed his thumbs against her wind pipe…wrestling wasn't real and yet his hands, wrapped aggressively around her throat seemed as real as anything she'd felt in a long time. She pushed her hips forward and breathed a ragged sigh of relief when the referee forced Chris to break the hold. Nancy had little to no time to evade him, as he sliced his hand across her chest in a hard chop that stole away what little breath she had recovered from the choke hold. She sputtered a small cough grasping her chest amidst a chorus of 'Woooo's' in the arena and then a memory…a snip-it of a match she had seen once while passing a monitor…flashed through her head.

Just as he came toward her, she lifted her hand and with two fingers, jabbed Chris Jericho right in the eyes. Nancy had remembered seeing Ric Flair do the same thing, and her memory had been jarred by the chorus of Wooo's. She watched with shock and trepidation as he doubled over holding his face, spewing forth a plethora of choice obscenities, staggering backward.

Brian Hebner warned her, but there was no time for Brian to move out of the way. Nancy saw Chris jutting his body into a spear, tearing across the ring like a bull and she dropped down to her knees behind Brian and rolled out of the way, a grimace of panic on her face. She had luckily missed the deadly spear, but Brian had been hit squarely in his middle and he dropped like a stone. He certainly didn't show any signs that he would be getting up anytime soon.

Chris was livid, none of this had gone the way he'd anticipated…he'd been slapped in the face almost as hard as Stephanie McMahon could wallop and evaded, poked in the eye and now she'd slipped past him again! The gloves were off…he had no intention of letting her out of this ring without first gifting her with some sort of physical souvenir. He was determined not to let her ever forget this encounter.

Chris stepped over the downed referee and stalked her across the canvas, as she continued to sidestep. Practically having to chase her was thoroughly pissing him off, and he lashed out snatching her by the hair again, shaking and dragging her. "You stupid, stupid bitch." He ground out through his clenched teeth and then threw her by the hair, straight down to her back on the canvas. It took only a millisecond for him to take hold of her legs, in the same way that Dave had shown her he would. She remembered his advice, knowing that if she didn't roll with him, he would likely tear out her knee or torque her back violently.

Chris stepped over her back and she rolled with him. She was tapping wildly as soon as he pressed his body down against her lower back, but the referee was still out. The match could not be stopped if the referee could not see Nancy tap. Chris screamed out in primal rage, and released her legs, dragging her nearer to the side of the ring. Nancy had less than zero energy to fight him off as he rolled her on her back, and then from the bottom rope, he perched and executed a perfect but lethal Lionsault. There was nothing she could do but accept the impact of the front of his body on hers, and all of the air that her lungs had been preserving, was painfully extracted from them in a mere second, leaving her completely down for the count.

Nancy was so utterly dazed that she simply lay on her side, praying that he would pin her soon as she dragged in the heavy, ragged breaths. Soon the sound of metal on flesh could be heard along with the enormous pop of the crowd. The ring shook all around her as if a bolt of lightening had struck the center of the canvas, and then she felt herself being dragged by both arms, over the top of a lifeless lump of human flesh. Nancy heard the bell ring and saw a blur of white. Had she not been blinded by the arena lights she might have believed she had gone into shock whilst lying there.

What she had not seen was the unexpected emergence of Dave Batista, while Jericho was hunched over the referee mercilessly slapping his face to awaken him. She also had not borne witness to the chair in Dave Batista's hands, making devastating contact with Chris' head, nor the devilish smile on his face when he hoisted Chris over his head and brought him down with cataclysmic force into the mat. Dave had lifted up Brian Hebner by his breeches and dropped him on his belly in front of Chris…but not before he had dragged Nancy across the ring and positioned her lethargic body over the top of Chris Jericho for the pin. Brian had awakened from his spear induced stupor and slapped his hand against the mat thrice, giving Nancy the victory.

Now Dave was above her his face twisted into a smile and mere inches from hers, his huge hand pushing aside a stray curl. He laughed when she looked strangely at him as if she'd just come emerged from a coma…and very nearly she had. "Wake up Sleeping Beauty…" He gently coaxed her upper body off of the mat, holding her against his kneeling legs.

Nancy's eyes fluttered open again and through the haze of near unconsciousness, she reached her hand out and cupped his cheek, smiling as if she was still under the influence of a sedative…a very powerful sedative. "Oh…it's you…", she murmured.

He laughed, seeing her in a somewhat addle brained state. "You won…" He began to lift her, up…his intent, being their exit from the ring before Eric Bischoff could come out and restyle the stipulations of the match, starting the whole thing over as he had been prone to do in the past. "You have to stand up so the ref can lift your hand."

Dave pulled her body to a standing position, albeit a wobbly one, and then hauled Brian up to his feet. He then lifted the hand of the unsteady, dazed referee and the hand of a weaving, jelly-legged seamstress, clasping them together and lifting them high until he heard Lillian announce Nancy as the victor.

He let go of Brian Hebner and wasn't surprised when he nearly collapsed. Taking Nancy's hand he tugged her against him for a swift hug, glorying it the ironic turn of events that he alone was completely responsible for. "Let's get the hell out of here." He helped her through the ropes and lifted her to the ground, his hand on her back, looking over his shoulder as they ascended the ramp amidst the wild ruckus of the crowd.

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