Uncommon Sense Chapter 24
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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"The terrible immoralities are the cunning ones hiding behind masks of morality, such as exploiting people while pretending to help them."

-Vernon Howard

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The previous two weeks had been a near dizzying blur. Nancy's days had been filled with in-ring training and her nights had been filled with Epsom salt baths to relieve soreness, shoulder massages, inventories of her bruises as well as other exceedingly entertaining physical distractions. And now the highly anticipated Championship Proxy Match, the WWE's first ever, was only two days away.

"If I can't win by pinning her explain the need for a finishing move?" Nancy asked, leaning against the ropes. She was half hoping that Triple H would be struck with some debilitating incurable illness and be unable to wrestle, thus liberating her from participating in the match at all.

"Well, we already know that we'll be over, meaning the title is supposed to stay in my hands, however…for the benefit of the entertainment aspect, you have to have a move that, in effect, stuns your opponent so you have time to get up the ladder and get the belt for us." Dave explained, knowing how important it was for her to understand and employ logic in her moves.

"What about the finisher you do…could I do that?" She asked, absentmindedly tapping the rope with her hand.

"If you were about a hundred pounds heavier and a man, then I would say yes, because then it would be believable." He laughed, thinking of Audrey again…and how much alike they were proving to be. "But because you're so tiny, no one watching would buy it and you might get hurt trying."

She nodded, pleased that she was learning the psychology of the sport along with the physicality of it. In the couple of weeks under his instruction she had learned more about the sport than she cared to know and even though it wasn't something she would want to do for a living, she had to admit that it was fascinating.

"Okay, so what are you suggesting?" She asked, tightening her ponytail.

"Well, you and Christy are fairly evenly matched in size, so anything that you do won't necessarily need to be over the top in order for you both to sell it." He thought for a moment. "Trish has her Chick Kick, basically a modified Super Kick, Lita has the Twist of Fate…" He would never suggest Victoria's 'Widow's Peak', knowing that Nancy might actually want to try it.

She watched him as he thought out loud, for a moment, admiring the way he paced confidently back and forth, ticking off the finishing moves one by one on his fingers as he did so. Sweat, that had formed from their workout, dripped down his neck as he braced one hand casually on his hip and scratched his chin with the other.

"What about that thing that Sean Michaels does? The high kick thing?" She queried, stepping away from the ropes to pace opposite him.

"Ah, Sweet Chin Music." He smiled and then shook his head smoothly. "There will be no 'tuning up the band' for you." He joked.

"Why not?" Nancy asked, disappointed. "It would look good."

"Well…because…that kick requires a sense of aim and timing." Dave said choosing his words cautiously. He was well aware that Nancy was less than graceful and even though she had learned what he'd taught her masterfully, he wasn't sure he wanted her trying to sell a super kick just yet, and finding a way to tell her without insulting her was tough. "Both people have to be in tandem with one another or somebody gets hurt."

"What are you trying to say?" Nancy narrowed her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Go ahead, you know you want to."

"Well…" Dave stammered, fumbling for a soft, inoffensive way to tell her…it was hopeless, because he was looking at her and she was trying to feign annoyance. Her eyes were little more than glittering slits and she was fighting back a smile…it was damned adorable. He laughed. "You do have really bad timing." He said smiling widely and yet trying to soften the blow by offering a hug.

She stepped backward, and her jaw dropped with pretend shock, "Thanks a lot…that really hurts…" She pressed her hands over her heart and attempted to make her face appear as disappointed as possible.

He laughed and grasping her upper arms, pulled her up against him. "Well, it will hurt…if your foot connects…you can break someone's jaw that way." He said referring to the kick. "So maybe you should just try a suplex and then follow it with a leg drop, then you can start up the ladder, if she follows you then you'll just kick her off." He playfully tugged at the curls that were secured up at the back of her head, and was instantly reminded of another place and time when he'd had his hands wound up in the thick tresses.

Nancy looked up at him, her arms wrapped around his waist…listening to him tell her what she should do, feeling a drop of sweat from his chin as it fell onto her chest and glided down between her breasts…it was somewhat erotic…somewhat bittersweet, knowing that she had less than forty-eight full hours with him before it would all be over.

"She'll have some sense of when to stop pursuing you so that you can get the belt…the referee will act as the ring general in this one, and give some verbal cues." He told her.

"Can you do that kick…the one that Sean Michaels does?" She changed the subject, her curiosity about the kick piqued and the need to pull away from him to steady her frazzled nerves.

"Of course I can." He narrowed his eyes arrogantly.

"Show me." She tempted, knowing men could never resist a challenge.

"It's just a high…sort of, side snap kick." He told her, bending at the waist and raising his leg up, then straightening at the knee he snapped his leg up and out, halting his foot just above her head. "Obviously, I wrestle people taller than you…but anyhow, that's what it looks like, only faster and without full on facial impact."

Nancy nodded, eyebrows raised. "I can see why you don't want me trying it…but it does look good."

"It's actually an ideal move for a smaller female wrestler…just for a more experienced one than you." He said sitting on the ropes so she could exit the ring. "And after this match you're not getting in the ring ever again, so there's no sense in you learning something you'll never use."

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Christy waited impatiently for Triple H to show up. As usual he was late, that was the norm, but now he swept into the local wrestling school, in attire not suited for practicing with her, a manila envelope tucked under his arm. A look of serious determination etched into his features sent an involuntary shiver up her spine. They had both agreed to do one last run through of the match, being as it would take place day after tomorrow, but now seeing him dressed in a crisp business suit with sunglasses on, holding that bulky envelope told her that he was likely not here to help her with a run through.

She ran the ropes for a few seconds just to avoid getting out of the ring to deal with him. Christy had no desire to discuss Nancy's life in detail anymore, obviously the contents of the envelope…it was bothering her that she even knew and bothering her that she felt pity.

"You're gonna get that suit torn up." Christy made a last ditch effort at humor.

"Nope." He pulled his sunglasses off, schooling his features into a lucid calm. "We need to go over a few things…last minute details." Triple H announced, sitting down in a metal chair, glancing around to make doubly sure that the small wrestling school was empty for their training as he had been promised.

"I agree, so go get dressed and we will." Christy bounced against the ropes again.

"Not in-ring details Christy. Come down here." He seemed patient, by the look on his face, but his words were stern, a disturbing juxtaposition.

She tucked her tongue between her teeth and cheek, rolled her eyes and slipped between the ropes, dropping to the floor on both feet. "Can't this wait? I told you I'm so tired of hearing about the crap she went through okay? I mean it's like the titanic…it sunk already! Why do I have to hear about it one more time?" She was whining now, it came naturally to her.

A dispassionate laugh erupted from his lips as he laced his arm over the back of the chair next to him on which he had placed the envelope. "I just wanna make certain we're all clear on what our individual responsibilities are before we ever step into that ring tomorrow night." He said fingering his moustache as she lifted the envelope and sat down.

"I already know what I'm supposed to be doing…I don't need to read up on it any further." She handed him the envelope and swiped a small white hand towel over her face, removing a thin layer of sweat.

"Well, there's better reading in there this time…I assure you that." Triple H smiled and handed the envelope back. "Actually, you could say that there's better viewing in there."

Christy arched a brow and took a deep breath. She wasn't sure what he was getting at, but she was fairly sure that she wasn't going to like it. "Look I don't wanna see it." Her voice dropped to a low uneven rasp, her pulse racing in pensive irritation.

"Oh, but you should…it's a damn great show…" He smiled as soon as he saw her face grow pale. "Just read the outer sleeve that the tape is concealed in and you'll see what I'm talking about. You won't even need to watch it."

Christy opened the envelope and pulled the tape out, turning it over in her hands so that she could get a better look at the cover. As soon as she saw the name on the cover, she dropped the tape in her lap as if it had caught fire.

Triple H laughed. "Don't you remember when I told you everyone has a past?" He watched as hot tears began to stream down her face, and he had to admit that even though it was not nearly as satisfactory as watching someone beg the way Nancy had, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "I mean it was hard trying to find something noteworthy in your past, being as you've already posed nude...obviously that's a non issue."

Christy shoved the tape back into the envelope and hugged it to her belly as though protecting this copy meant there might be no others.

"But, when Jonathan Coachman came to me with this…I realized, that there is dirt under the fingernails of everyone…even Christy Hemme." He watched as she glowered at him. "I have to admit, that a thousand dollars and a guaranteed contract re-signing for Coach was some of the best money I've ever spent."

"It was just sex." She whispered, her chin trembling, holding the tape tightly.

"I know that, but the board of directors doesn't know that." He smiled…admiring his own ability to effectively plant seeds of fear. "And even though we all know that the good people of the USA voted you in as the Diva Search Winner…the fact that you had drunken sex with Jonathan Coachman prior to the final elimination might lead one to believe that he had something to do with getting you pushed through to the Raw Debut before the fans even had a chance to vote." He see-sawed his hand back and forth to home in on his point.

"It was a mistake…we both admitted it…I had no idea he was filming it...I was so drunk I barely remember…for all I know I could have been fucking The Rock." Christy's lip quivered. "I already told you I would do whatever you asked, so that I could be with Dave after everything goes down…why are you threatening me with this?"

"Well, he was filming it sweetheart and he even caught that part where you used your red lace panties to tie his hands together…I just want you to remember our agreement, and I want you to have something to think about, being as your contract re-signing takes place in three weeks…hell of a bad time for something like this to come out, don't you think?" He turned to face her and snapped her chin up with his forefinger so she would face him. "This is my insurance just in case you decide to go off and sprout a conscience all of a sudden!"

For the first time in days Christy suddenly knew exactly how Nancy felt, very small and very trapped. "I told you I'd do it…so I'll do it." She felt defeated…much the way she imagined Nancy must have…and for two people on opposite ends of the playing field, both women certainly had a hell of a lot in common.

"Excellent…now we're clear." He stood up, chewing his gum cheerily as if he'd just announced that she was due a raise in pay. "You can keep that…I have another copy."

All Christy could hear as she hugged the tape to her chest, watching her career circle the toilet at the imminent exposure of the scandal, was the sound of his shoes on the concrete floor as he retreated. Cold and calloused, he was calculating and he had everyone involved…by the balls…she hadn't even planned to deviate from the original course they'd plotted, but now, she had every reason to obey everything he'd ordered her to do.

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Max was fed up to the hilt…sinking his teeth into a mushroom burger down the street at a Bennigan's, all by himself, just to attain a modicum of peace. He had quickly come to the conclusion that sex with Vicki was just a front for something deeper…a shopping addiction, fueled by Max's Visa. Every time lately when they'd made love, it was either prompted, or aided by some type of alcohol, freely imbibed by the skinny little leech. And he was a fool for having fallen for it…but at the same time he was tired of being alone, and some companionship was better than no companionship. Even Vicki's attitude was changing and day by day she was becoming more and more belligerent, as if she somehow knew that the path they were on was coming to an end…one that she eagerly seemed to be awaiting.

The only thing that changed her mood swings was another purchase or the prospect of another purchase…it was a typical gold-digger scenario and Max was starting to reconsider his relationship with her, hell he was even considering a new career…maybe becoming a monk might be a good idea because it meant that he wouldn't have to deal with women anymore, period. But then again they didn't feed monks this well in monasteries…so that was out of the question.

He had even been surprised when Nancy had pulled him aside after her wrestling practice the day before and asked him about his feelings for Vicki, warning him to be cautious. He'd been blunt and bad-mannered, asking her butt out and telling her that if she could be happy, then he should be allowed to be happy too. Nancy had appeared hurt and he regretted his outburst…but before she left she'd asked him to be watchful, careful of Vicki…never giving him reason. He assumed it was because women were pretty well clairvoyant and maybe she knew Vicki's true colors. But things seemed to be out of kilter for Nancy as well. She had practically avoided Max altogether for the past two weeks, between the wrestling training and her after training interludes…and it seemed that every time she got a glimpse of him with Vicki in passing, she appeared either saddened or verging on anger. Never once had she said what it might have been about Vicki that was bothering her. Nancy hadn't needed to, because Max knew her well and couldn't have missed the tension between the two women even if he'd been a blind man.

He sopped up the last of the mushroom gravy with his fries, wishing that he was sharing lunch with his best friend…she was the only person he knew besides his own family who accepted him for appearances and never expected anything from him. He missed having to dodge French fries during dinner and fighting over the bathroom and hotel beds. He missed seeing her smile…it was something that he hadn't detected on her face as of late. He'd only seen her at one house show since she'd been railroaded by Eric Bischoff into a bogus match and that night he'd ventured to ask her what was wrong, but she'd looked at him as if he'd sprouted another arm and reassured him that all was fine and he had no reason to worry. Nancy was a damned good liar. He had to give her that much credit, but he still wasn't willing to believe her. Either she was scared to death of the impending match or there was something else eating at her.

Max surmised that Dave wasn't the one who had put her in a foul mood because he'd seen the two interacting when they hadn't noticed him and they seemed to be a well suited pair. It was a mystery to him and as much as he wanted to try to solve it…Nancy had asked him to stay out of her affairs…and he'd made her a promise that he had no plans of breaking.