Uncommon Sense Chapter 26
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 real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else."

Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyperreality
Italian novelist & semiotician (1932 - )

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Max was having a devil of a time tracking Vicki down…for the past twenty minutes he had searched the entire arena with no sign of the skinny gold digger. Determined to get back so that he could do last minute wardrobe touch-ups and then plant his body behind a monitor to watch Nancy's match, Max trudged along through the stuffy parking garage toward the arena's inner door, carrying the heavy make-up case, having made the decision that he would tell Vicki what he had planned…later.

He passed the WWE bus and was rounding the loading dock for the stairs when he spotted Vicki in a heated conversation with someone whom he could not see. She was standing behind a concrete pillar just to the side of the loading ramp and so before being seen, Max backed around behind the bus, his instincts telling him that something about the whole scenario was out of order. He ducked under the bus and wriggled his outsized body underneath it far enough to be able to see that she was laughing and speaking animatedly with Triple H.

The former 'Champ' was dressed and ready for his match, and even though he was clearly married…he was engrossed in a private conversation with Vicki. It made Max feel nauseous, and as he listened closely he was able to make out some of the conversation.

"I don't have to endure another night with him do I?" Vicki asked, a pretty pout curving her lips.

"Not if all goes as planned tonight." Triple H handed her the envelope. "Here's what I need from you…if anything goes awry in the match tonight…if I lose, then you're to go straight across the highway to that mailbox and pull the inner insert out of this envelope, and mail it out immediately." He explained. "Don't touch the envelope in here, or you'll get fingerprints on it and then if anyone wants to know who sent it anonymously then all they would have to do is print it and then were both in deep shit. It's already posted, so just open the flap and let the inner envelope slide into the mailbox."

Max watched as Vicki nodded and accepted the folded wad of cash that triple H palmed her. "How long do I need to keep playing it up for Max?" She asked with a whine.

"Until just after I win the match, or in the event she rebels then keep up the charade until this info on Nancy hits the papers, a day at most." Max heard her groan even as his already doubtful heart was breaking. He had suspected that she didn't have feelings for him, but to actually hear her ask how much longer she had to endure him caused his slightly wounded spirit to plummet. "This is going to be a hell of a scandal for her, so if I were you, I'd do my best acting for the next couple of days so you can avoid the McMahon Guns of War, if you catch my drift." He rolled his massive shoulders as he told her. "The board of directors is gonna be pissed and embarrassed over the scandal and so everyone's gonna have to walk on eggshells until after Nancy's gone and they can start damage control." Triple H pointed a finger at Vicki's chest and set his face into a firm glare. "Do not fuck this up! I was at least truthful when I told the bitch I only had one copy of her records…I never made another because it was risky enough walking around with one copy, being as it's supposed to be a sealed court document and not to mention a federal offense if anyone gets caught with it since it was sealed in a federal court…so do not lose it or everything goes to shit."

Max suddenly felt like he might black out and he wasn't sure whether it was from the shock of the information he'd just stumbled on or from the lack of oxygen to his brain due to the constriction of lying on his belly under the bus. At any rate, he felt it imperative that he do something…he had always known that Nancy had a secret…something haunting her, and now Triple H knew that secret, when even he…her very best friend had no clue. But Max knew Nancy and their friendship was the truest thing he'd ever had and because of that he loved her more than anyone else in his life. And if could manage to roll his fat ass out from underneath the bus…he had every intention of breaking his promise and sticking his nose right where it didn't belong.

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Dave Batista stood, his back as straight and proud as a ship's mast, and his face etched in stone. Solitarily in the corridor, away from the ramp after having just cut his promo, heart pounding, conflicted and furious. His hands were shaking and unsteady and that pissed him off, being as he was normally solid and sure about everything. He was positive if he could have looked into a mirror that his facial expression would have scared even him. Another producer attempted to approach him in inquiry of Nancy's whereabouts and all he could do was shrug his enormous shoulders and cast a warning glare that sent the producer in the other direction in a hurry. At this point he was unapproachable and that was fine with him.

He watched Triple H and Christy standing at the foot of the ramp and noticed that she cast a lingering glance over her shoulder toward him, as if she wished to catch his eye, but he turned his head and muttered an epithet, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. The door of the wardrobe room swung open and Nancy finally emerged, her features schooled into a defiant stare, one that crumbled into a veiled sadness the minute his eyes locked with hers. He wanted to be furious with her, but he could not…she was beautiful in her new clothes, with her hair down and her shoulders held high, and though she had covered the evidence of her tears well, he could tell by the slight redness of her lower eyelids and because he'd touched her tears in the closet, that she had been crying. But she wasn't crying now, and she set her chin at a rebellious tilt as she came to stand beside him.

"Are you ready?" He couldn't for the life of him be rude. He wanted the words to come out laced with anger and reproach but they refused to.

Nancy nodded, opening her mouth once again to tell him the truth, but he shook his head and grasped her hand. "Later" The word sliced her to the core and he knew it, as soon her face fell, but again he knew that her explanation, her declaration of feelings would mean nothing since they were to be contradictory to her actions in the ring. Dave might have wanted to know…hell it was killing him not to know…because she was what he wanted and he couldn't have her because her heart was attached to a dirty little secret she wasn't willing to part with.

Like always, she straightened her face, stiffened her upper lip and let him lead her to the bottom of the ramp out of earshot of their opponents. "Normally you would come out behind me, but tonight you'll go out ahead of me, under my entrance music, because of the proxy clause." He couldn't stop himself from touching the curls…his hand instinctively wound into the shiny mass. She was bewitching him even now, and his heart faltered as her eyes closed momentarily when his hand made contact with her hair. His jaw clenched mechanically because his own body was betraying his determination to be enraged with her deception. He couldn't touch her again…he had to remain firm in his decision or he would fail himself by not letting her go, no matter what she had done.

"I'll come out behind you…" His voice was thick and he bit his lower lip. "Just remember everything I taught you." He wasn't just referring to her training and she knew it. He saw the flicker of shame in her eyes and he wanted to erase it for her, but he stood solid. "And when you go out there…you keep your eyes up..." He told her firmly lifting her chin gently with two fingers, because he had to touch her again…he could not stop himself. "Don't you dare duck your head…you don't have anything to regret."

Nancy felt the harsh blow of his words, despite the calm emotion of his voice and his hand on her face. She could have sworn that his eyes were certain of something when they held hers, but he hadn't wanted to hear the truth from her earlier in the closet, nor even seconds ago…even though she knew he could not have possibly known that she was a fraud. She was sure that if she tried to tell him again, just seconds before they were set to enter the ring, that he would not want to hear it even then. Nancy could not warn him, or save him…and now, the entrance music for Triple H, pumped out so loudly that it drowned out any attempt she might have made to speak.

She felt her body being pivoted by Dave's large hands so that she was on the ramp in front of him facing forward. "Wait until Tina tells you to go." He spoke into her ear to be heard above the music as he pointed to the female producer who was calculating seconds on her watch. "You'll be fine." His voice rumbled, but she wouldn't be fine and he wouldn't either. She nodded, even though she wasn't facing him and felt him squeeze her shoulder one last time.

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Max squirmed his way out from under the large bus and scampered into the arena after he had seen Vicki safely enter moments after Triple H had gone. A quick survey of the halls revealed her in a discussion with another staffer, and Max used the split second as an opportunity to hash out a plan. He had no idea how he was going to get that envelope away from her but at this point he would gladly have choke slammed her in the hallway to acquire it.

"Vicki." Max said brightly holding up the brown make-up bag. He noticed the slight glimmer of annoyance in her eyes that she quickly covered with a cute wink.

"You found my bag!" She squealed with embellished exuberance.

"Well it wasn't hard…" Max admitted, also playing up to her for the benefit of his plan. "I almost fell over it…that means you must have been looking for me." He reached out and tapped the tip of her nose with one finger as if she were a precocious child.

"Speaking of looking…I need you help right now with Victoria in the wardrobe room." He scrambled quickly and keenly for a believable excuse.

"Her make-up's already been done, Max." Vicki insisted when she felt him latch on to her slender arm.

"Well, she had a little wardrobe malfunction and a zipper scratched her cheek, not the one you're thinking of." He shielded his mouth when he spoke as if it were a super risqué comment. "A little blood, but mostly it just needs some damn good cover-up."

"How the hell did she cut her face with a zipper?" Vicki seemed to be buying it, and Max noticed that she held tightly to the envelope in her hands.

"Not that cheek." Max whispered.

"Oh…Okay, give me five minutes and I'll be there." Vicki insisted, intent on getting the envelope into her locking make-up cart.

"Gotta go now, Vic." Max tugged her. "Time's money, money's time…" He insisted rapidly, pulling her along before she had a chance to lock the envelope away. "She's in a panic…and she's a big gal…I don't wanna have her mad at me."

Vicki huffed as Max who was without a doubt stronger than she, dragged her around the corner and into the empty wardrobe room. "Well, where the hell is she?" Vicki snapped.

"Well she's probably embarrassed, you know how girls are…I'll bet she's in that bathroom." He nodded nonchalantly toward the small bathroom in the corner racking his brain so that a plan would take shape, and like a blessing from God…one did. He watched as Vicki laid the envelope down on the table and walked to the door of the bathroom. Taking Vicki's irritated obliviousness as his opportunity to strike, he silently pulled the stainless steel hemostats from the open drawer of the caddy and when she opened the door to the bathroom and stepped inside, he was behind her in an instant, soundlessly pressing in the interior knob lock when her back was turned.

"She's not in here." Vicki said irritably, as she snapped on the light switch.

Max gently allowed the door to close behind her and then sliding the slender pointed tip of the hemostats into the access hole for the door lock, he snapped them off, lodging the tip in the lock's cylinder and preventing any escape for Vicki.

"Max, the door won't open." Vicki said in a panic, jiggling the knob. "Max!"

"What did you do?" Max asked innocently, rattling the door from his side for effect.

"I didn't do anything!" She blasted. "Get the door open, Max!"

"Okay…" A wicked grin spread across the canvas of his face. "I'm gonna go get help!" He stifled an incipient chuckle as he flipped her off from his side of the door. "I know you like music..." Max said turning up the small stereo that he'd been bringing to pass the time without Nancy. "So I'll just leave this on for you just in case it takes awhile…and don't worry I'm gonna go get the maintenance man."

"Hurry dammit!" Vicki hissed, stomping one booted foot, half terrified because she was locked on the other side of the door, separated from the very thing that Triple H had trusted her with.

"I promise Baby, I'll hurry." He falsely cooed, picking up the envelope and a handful of paper patterns, along with a door sign as he swept out of the wardrobe room. Before taking off down the hall he slapped the sign on the door just below the word Wardrobe and then turned on his heel and retreated, hell bent for leather. The sign read: Diva Fitting In Progress…Do Not Enter.

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"Ladies and Gentlemen…" Lillian Garcia spoke into the microphone as she stood in the center of the ring. "This match is another RAW innovation, from the mind of Eric Bischoff." She furrowed her brow as she read from the card he had given her prior to the beginning of the match. "This match will be for the World's Heavy Weight Championship…it is a ladder match, whereby the only way to win is to retrieve the belt suspended high above the ring. However, neither the champion nor the challenger may claim the belt. The belt may only be acquired by proxy, meaning that the tag partners of the champion and challenger are required to retrieve the belt for their respective tag partner."

Christy heard the announcement, along with the scathing warning in her ear from Triple H. She could remember Nancy's words. 'He only has power if we give it to him' Christy shrugged off the reminder, telling herself that it was only something that scared people say just to feel braver, but it wasn't true. Certainly no one ever gave him the power to dredge up all of the dirt he had, and he'd not had a bit of trouble wielding the command necessary to do that. His contacts and influence were too far reaching and he had an endless supply of minions helping him carry out his demands, but on the bright side, at least he had rewards for unquestioned obedience. Christy would have Dave after tonight and that was repayment enough, even though she knew it was a bittersweet victory because she would always be his second choice.

Triple H's entrance music hit and she was cued by the producer along with a firm shove from Triple H himself. It was now or never, how fitting a song it was…because they were all his puppets, all playing his game.

"Introducing the challenger and his tag team partner, at a combined weight of 365 pounds…Triple H! And Christy Hemme!" Lillian said as Christy pranced down the ramp, a smug yet focused Triple H bringing up the rear. Christy entered the ring with all of the confidence she could muster, her bright and wide smile belying her wicked intentions.

Triple H entered with his usual water spewing hoopla and an air of victory though the match had not yet ensued. His mind was eagerly kicking around the idea of gold on his shoulder again…getting one over on his wife, and still staying in the line for the McMahon fortune.

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Behind the curtain, a war of emotions were raging in Nancy's mind and standing there, waiting, she had half expected some demonic version of 'Tainted Love' to come blaring out of the speakers, cueing their entrance. Her heart was pounding in her ears and when the refrain of the familiar 'Saliva' entrance theme commenced, she took a deep breath and the signal from Tina, slipping through the curtain and not looking back.

Dave on the other hand wished he could have called her back…stopped her…told her he knew about her plan, but the loud music made it impossible and his late change of heart was probably for the better. Let her think he knew nothing, let her do what she had to do to keep her secret safe and if it made her a better person at his expense then so be it, because he loved her…the ball was in her court now and there was nothing he could do but stay on his toes and try to avoid getting hurt.

The dimming and flickering of the lights along with a deafening pop from the crowd and mind-blowing pyros discharging in succession took her breath away. She held her eyes up, and walked proudly, even though she knew that the 'face pop' was not for her, as much as it was for him. She entered the ring and stayed close to one corner, as Dave hit all four corners of the ring raising his belt. She knew he was made to do this…there was nobody better suited in her mind.

His heart wasn't in it as he stood on the ropes roaring to the adoring crowd and he handed the belt over to the referee reluctantly, knowing that it might very well be the last time his hands touched it and then watching as it was attached to the hook and suspended above the ring. He noticed Nancy watching that belt too, and try as he might he could not determine what she was thinking. Her face was as emotionless as any he'd ever seen, blank and cold…nothing like the woman he'd made love to last night or any of the nights prior. He released a puff of air and returned the challenging glare from Triple H as the bell was rung and both women began to circle the ring.

The two equally sized women locked up with a force that surprised Dave. Nancy began on the defensive as Christy tried to out leverage her and pulled her into a headlock right off the bat. Nancy's proximity to the corner was a concern for Dave because he knew how often Triple H put his hands into a match even when he wasn't the legal man, but Nancy managed to shoot out of the headlock, putting Christy into a reverse hammerlock. Both women were managing just fine and despite the minimal amount of training and the fact that she hadn't wanted to wrestle in the first place, Dave noticed that Nancy seemed completely comfortable in her new element. It was as if someone or something else had taken her over…he'd noticed it the minute she had come out onto the ramp. It was ironic, because she looked as if she'd been wrestling for years, she was a natural and she would rather stitch a rip than set foot in a ring.

In less than a minute, Christy was tagging Triple H's hand, but before the two of them could double team Nancy, Dave slipped between the ropes and delivered a hellishly painful clothesline to Triple H and a warning glimmer in his eye that told Christy she'd better get out of the ring. Dave was on guard for the well anticipated knee shot and managed to have a near miss in the first few seconds of the encounter. Triple H came flying back from an Irish whip with a clothesline that put Dave to the mat, and then his massive booted foot came down in an attempt to stomp directly on the kneecap before Dave could even get up. But forewarned was forearmed, and he managed to move his leg in time to spin around and engage a modified drop toe hold.

Nancy watched from the corner as the two men battled with precision and brute force. Several times she could make out the attempts to take Dave's leg out and each time, surprisingly Dave was able to avoid it…almost as if he had known the intent. A forceful whip into the ropes along with the weight of Christy tugging when the ref's back was turned, sent Dave flying backward over the top rope and onto the floor. Triple H exited the ring and began his assault with another attempt at the knee, rebuffed by Dave who now appeared to be immensely frustrated with the whole thing.

Dave had to admit that after a good few evasions of injury, that the entire match was something akin to guarding your groin from a bat-wielding two-year old. Finally, slamming Triple H's head against the Spanish announce table and following it with a power bomb, flattening the table entirely, he incapacitated Triple H long enough to concentrate on getting the ladder, which was too heavy for either woman, into the ring. He had his doubts about whether Nancy would actually traverse it, having heard her plan to take a fall, but at present she was fighting outside of the ring to get Christy, who had landed an illegal cheap shot, off of her back.

Nancy dropped to her knees on the outside of the ring, and despite the pain she knew it would cause for Christy, she hauled her over in a snap mare on her back, and then dragged her by the hair to her feet and rolled her by her breeches into the ring. "We can stop this." She whispered as she rolled into the ring beside her, preparing to scale the ladder as soon as Dave had it standing and could tag her in. No response from the red head other than a wobbly roll to her feet and a hard slap across Nancy's face. Both women, who then became tangled into a mat rolling brawl, were separated by the ref and commanded into the corner, since neither woman was legal.

The ladder was standing tall and Dave eyed Nancy to weigh her intent, but again, other than the stone glaze of her glittering green eyes, there was nothing in there that he could grasp. He tagged her in and watched in surprise as she blasted to the other side of the ring, dragging Christy through the ropes before she even had a chance to enter. A mistake, as she was promptly rewarded with a kick to the stomach, and a twist of fate, which landed Nancy onto the mat. Christy then began to climb the ladder, one rung at a time. It might have very well been all over, had not the ref walked in front of Nancy when he did. Cleverly, Nancy kicked the referee in the backside, causing him to fall forward into the ladder, tipping it over and dumping Christy directly over the side of the ring and into the waiting arms, of Triple H who had just managed to regain his equilibrium.

Instead of losing his new found balance and falling, he growled and caught Christy with ease, rolling her back into the ring under the bottom rope, just in time for her to stand and deliver a kick to Nancy's lower back sending her to the mat. Christy rolled Nancy over as soon as she saw that her partner was engaging Dave from the other side of the ring. Christy knew that as soon as a successful knee shot was delivered, that she was to be ready for her finisher, but the ref was giving her subtle cues as to when she should allow Nancy up the ladder and in Christy's frustration she executed a very ill timed, purposely fouled elbow drop, catching Nancy's rib full on.

Nancy remembered having the same feeling from the Lionsault and she breathed out just before being hit. It was probably the only thing that saved her from having a cracked ribcage.

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Max replaced the envelope in it's original position on the table and then stepped back out into the hallway. "Listen, get her out of there and just tell her that her boyfriend went around the corner to get her some water…or some other bullshit like that…" Max explained to the Maintenance Man. "Feel free to take your time…she is after all, in a bathroom so she's got pretty much everything she needs except for food." He joked.

The man laughed and nodded, entering the wardrobe room behind Max, who was bent on reassuring her that she was safe. "Sweety?" Max called out.

"What the fuck is taking so long?" Vicki's voice was a shrill and irreverent howl.

"Baby, I had to find the janitor, he was taking care of some other things." Max was sickened by the need to speak to her in a coddling tone, but if she could put on an act, then by God he could too. "But he's here now so he'll get you out!" He shouted above the blare of the radio, and then gave the janitor a thumbs-up sign and walked swiftly out of the wardrobe room amidst a flurry of angry comments from Vicki.

Out in the hallway, he began to run, eager to find a monitor so he could check on the match that had already begun. Skidding around the corner, almost losing his balance entirely, he came upon a small crowd of wrestlers and other staffers, who were blocking the only available monitor with their bodies. He wedged himself through the crowd uncaring of the frustration he created. "Excuse me." Max said politely, but was regarded with a less than amicable gaze by Chris Jericho/Irvine who had planted himself solidly between the monitor and Max.

"Dude…" Max began holding his hands up in friendship. "I just wanna watch too."

Chris considered the comment and then with a smile that didn't quite reach his lips, he stepped aside and made room for him.

"Thanks." Max said still trying to catch his breath. He glanced at the monitor just in time to see Nancy come flying off of the ropes and catch Christy's leg in the middle of a spinning heel kick.

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Nancy held the one leg and kicked the other out from under Christy, watching her land flat on her back. She knew for certain that even if you landed right, it took months for bumps to stop hurting and so each fall she inflicted brought her closer to her goal of breaking Christy down. Christy winced, as Nancy grasped her leg and planted a Figure Four leg lock on her, one she had learned by watching Ric Flair when Dave hadn't been around. The object was not to get her to tap, but rather to keep her still long enough to try to elicit her aid in putting a cease to the plan. "Help me." Nancy begged, applying pressure to the leg, an attempt to get her attention through pain.

"I can't!" Christy demanded, reversing the leg lock and then after a moment of selling, Christy let Nancy up, whipping her into the turnbuckle to an eagerly awaiting Triple H who slid the tag rope around Nancy's throat and gave it a less than friendly tug. Christy began to distract the referee while Nancy was receiving the choke along with another verbal reminder to behave from Triple H. He tightened the rope, despite her wriggling and whispered fiercely in her ear, "Be nice! Mommy's watching." He released her as soon as Dave Batista bounded into the ring to her aid. The referee had quickly estranged himself from Christy and stepped in Dave's way

Dave could clearly tell from the red mark around her slender neck, that the choke had been deliberate…and real and the fact that she was on the mat catching her breath told him it wasn't just a sell. He obeyed the ref, turning to retreat to his corner, but when Dave saw the referee move out of the way, giving him a clear shot he stepped over the top of Nancy, driving his elbow directly into Triple H's chin, sending him off of the apron and onto the floor. That elbow in the face was without a doubt just as deliberate and real as the choke had been and as Dave leaned down to help Nancy to her feet, Christy who had all the time in the world to climb the ladder, stood like a stone paralyzed by her jealousy as well as her obedience. She knew that she was not to ascend the ladder until after the injury or someone in the back would have her head, being as she and Triple H were supposed to have been under for the match.

Nancy stood to her feet, shaking off the haze and catching her breath. She wanted to answer the question in Dave's eyes, but instead, she brushed past him and snatched Christy by the back of her red head. She pulled the long tresses with true force and hauled her up, putting her in a sleeper hold. Both women were nearly the same size, so it wasn't difficult for Nancy to keep good leverage. It was an easy move to recover your strength during, a great way for her to get close enough to speak so no one could hear and the crowd loved it. Again her objective was to wear Christy down emotionally…to play on Christy's obsession for Dave, in order to gain her help, and if that didn't work…she was just going to flat out kick her ass.

Whispering harshly in Christy's ear, after another sharp reminder from the ref to speed things up. "Don't wait on him again!" Her words were rough as she warned Christy. "The next time you have a chance like that, get your ass up that fucking ladder, so we can be done with this." Nancy had given her every opportunity to take the belt without waiting for Triple H to inflict the injury, but Christy was clearly loyal to the end. Nancy knew that Christy would wait for the knee-shot, because that was what he had demanded of them both.

Dave watched Nancy release the sleeper and throw Christy to the mat by her hair, another opportunity for Nancy to climb the ladder that would slip by, no doubt. Nancy had ignored every verbal cue that the ref had given and Dave could tell that the young man was incensed.

Triple H too, was filled with fury as he watched Nancy's repeated efforts to employ Christy's aid. He hadn't heard the exchange between the two women when Nancy had locked her into the sleeper, but the icy set of Nancy's jaw as she spat out her spiel sent a nervous tremor coursing through his body. Picking up the sledge hammer that he'd tugged from under the skirting when Dave had planted his elbow, he stalked around the ring prepared to make another crack at the Champion's knee.

Dave made no effort to cheer her on toward the belt…he knew she wasn't in it for the win, she was in it to save her own ass. He wasn't sure what horrible threat she had given Christy when she'd latched onto her seconds ago, she seemed to be urging Christy to do something for which Christy obviously had no intent. Dave could see that Nancy was tired and relentless in her effort to play some sort of mind game with Christy. He reached his hand over the rope in an attempt to make a tag that Nancy had not initiated, when suddenly he felt the explosive force of a solid object in the upper portion of his calf muscle. The blow was painful, and apparently meant for his knee, but the action of him coming up onto his toes to try to make the tag, a millisecond after the hammer was swung saved the back of his knee from snapping forward and causing a ligament tear.

The blow forced him off of the apron and down onto the floor where, for the umpteenth time of the night, he found himself dodging blows meant to lame him. The hammer came within inches of his shoulder and slammed into the steel steps with a bone crushing thud. The noise caught the attention of both women in the ring who were engaged in battle.

Nancy felt her heart plummet when she saw that Triple H was ushering Lillian off of a chair so that he could fold it and use it as his weapon. The distraction put her at a disadvantage to Christy, who used the opportunity to pull Nancy down to her back with two handfuls of hair. She did this to prepare for the climb to the top turnbuckle, Nancy knew it, and so did Dave, who for the first time in the match was able to fully determine the exact instant when the deathblow would come. And come…it did.

Triple H watched Nancy stand to her feet before he dealt the blow, he wanted her to see it, wanted her to know the price of her secrecy. Bringing the chair down in a jabbing motion, along with a primal roar, engrossed in the look of terror on Nancy's face, Triple H connected. He listened to the vocal confirmation of pain and then turned to watch as Dave slumped to the floor on all fours.

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Vicki Stormed out of the bathroom the instant the hinge pins were removed, allowing the Maintenance Man, who appeared confused by the sharp metal object caught in the cylinder, to remove the door entirely.

"It's about damned time!" She body-checked the man and swept down on top of the envelope which was thankfully still on the table and apparently untouched. It didn't surprise her that it was still there along with her heavy brown alligator case. Max was a buffoon and too dim-witted to have even given the envelope a second thought. She hugged the envelope to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief…the last thing she needed was to screw this up and have her skeletons parading through central park, along with Nancy's.

She stalked out of the wardrobe area and down the hall to lock the envelope up and find a monitor so that she could carry out Triple H's wishes as soon as the match was over.

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Dave had anticipated well and been rewarded with the arrogant ignorance of the former champion who chose to look away when he struck instead of verifying his target. The blow landed agonizingly in the lower quadriceps muscle rather than in the knee and though the injury would likely cause a hell of a lot of bruising and knotted muscle tissue, he would not be out of commission. But still, Dave was smart enough to know that he had to sell the injury and sell it well or else he would be avoiding body shots for another half hour and so he held onto the knee and stayed on the ground, making it as believable as possible. From his vantage point he dared to look at Nancy…he had to sell it for her benefit as well, but the fear and distress on her face when she saw his predicament could not have been manufactured and he had half a mind to tell her it wasn't real. Nancy's green eyes filled instantly with tears and at that very second Dave realized that she had been having second thoughts about her forced sedition all along.

He had done it…had done what he said he would do. Put Dave out of commission, and Nancy hadn't been quick enough to get up and get out of the ring to help him. And now, Triple H was giving her the look that told her to follow through to fruition, and Christy was climbing the turnbuckle for her finishing move…Nancy knew then that she had nothing more to lose…he was already hurt, already through with her. Christy would never relent, never help, because she was too afraid to revolt…and for once in Nancy's life it occurred to her that she was the one holding the power now, without Nancy the plan would fall flat and since Christy wouldn't help her, then maybe Nancy could help them both.

From the floor Dave saw the conflict flicker through her eyes, the wheels spinning, as if it played in slow motion, though it all happened in mere seconds. Dave watched as Nancy looked him in the eyes, a glance that seemed to say she was sorry, and then she turned her eyes on Triple H. Their gazes locked and clashed. Dave's blood ran cold when her face became devoid of expression, as she regarded Triple H. He saw Christy ascending ever closer to the top turnbuckle, and as soon as she leapt, he saw the slight dip of Nancy's shoulders as she shifted her hip and snapped her leg up and out. For someone with impeccably bad timing, her aim and timing could not have been better. The kick connected directly at the adjunct of Christy's collarbones causing her body to pivot backward in midair. Christy landed directly on her back with a force that rattled her cage, stole her breath and left her unconscious, but otherwise unbroken. Had the kick landed even three inches higher, it would have cracked her windpipe.

As soon as Nancy saw Christy hit the mat, she leaned over her unconscious body and whispered. "Sorry, darlin'" and she truly meant it. A quick glance over her shoulder to look at Dave, and then she scurried up the ladder amidst an arena full of loud cheering, grasping the belt with both hands and pulling it from the hook. Her future with Dave…with the company…with everything she held dear, might be over after tonight, but at least she had done what was right. She held the belt up in the air and smiled…not missing the grin that spread across the face of the injured Champion on the ground.

His heart puffed up with pride for her, for himself…because she had executed a kick he'd thought she couldn't do, because she hadn't betrayed him, because whatever her secret had been…she was willing to risk exposure just to prove to him she wouldn't be disloyal to his trust. The sight of her on the ladder with his belt above her head, the bell ringing in the background was the last thing he was aware of, before the steel chair connected with the top of his head sending him into a dark fog.

Triple H snarled, as he slammed the chair onto the ground and slid back into the ring. He was bordering on homicidal and prepared to snap her neck with his bare hands. Nancy scrambled swiftly down the ladder, praying that she would be able to get out and get to Dave before Triple H got his hands on her, but he was as fast as he was huge, ripping the belt from her hands, tossing it down and wrapping his fingers around her throat and into her hair.

"You couldn't do it could you?" He growled. "You couldn't obey one tiny little command…You had to go and play hero." He hauled her around the ring, his hands tightening painfully around her throat and then he pressed her back into the ladder, despite the ref's quiet verbal insertions, telling him that this was not part of the after match interaction. He swatted the referee out of the way, sending him to the mat.

"You only thought you went through hell before…" He shook her and then slapped her, playing up not only for the crowd who assumed it was part of the show, but for the benefit of stirring up the fear that she was not yet exhibiting. "You're a murdering, lying bitch, and tomorrow morning, every newspaper on the east coast is gonna know what you did."

Nancy hung onto his hands to keep from falling as he yanked her around like a rag doll. "And I'm not through with you yet…" He wrenched her against the turnbuckle.

Nancy pushed at his arms, and through clenched teeth she retorted. "You can't do anything to me that hasn't been done." And then in true rebellious fashion, she filled her mouth with saliva and then spit directly in his face. The crowd went wild…and then so did he. His eyes glazed over with hate-filled intensity and then in his crazed state, he dragged her from the corner and brought her to the middle of the ring. He may not have the belt but he still had another card to play in another realm, and she… still had a bad shoulder.

Triple H pushed her head down between his legs, easily overpowering her attempts to stop him and then with all the force he could muster, he wrenched her arms up behind her back. The shoulder separation was audible and he delighted in the scream that rolled past her lips…it brought him instant satisfaction, and even as her arm was limp and disconnected in his forceful grasp, he dropped her in the Pedigree.

The excruciating burst of pain seared her from the joint to the tips of her fingers and beyond. She knew immediately what it was and before she could even estimate the damage, she was being slammed face first into the mat. Another explosion of pain jolted through her body like a shockwave when the shoulder was jarred upon impact and thousands of sparkling points of light dancing across her eyelids preempted an unwelcome slumber. The logical part of her brain told her that she should allow the darkness to take her and relieve her of the pain, but the childhood instinct of biting the inside of her cheek to keep from passing out took over and she reemerged from near unconsciousness. He was gone and though she knew she was free, she dared not move in anticipation of more pain.

Blood was dripping down his forehead from the deep gash at his hairline, and though Dave had come around and seen little more than her face connecting with the mat…he had heard her scream somewhere deep in his darkened, chair-induced haze. He raised himself up, prepared to exact violence on Triple H, but he had already dragged Christy to the ramp and was giving her a verbal lashing. As it was, Nancy was lying completely still, face down in the ring, her arm at a wickedly odd angle and all he cared about was getting to her. His leg was sore, but steady and he hopped onto the apron, rolling under the bottom rope and approaching her body.

The referee was already calling for trainers and medical help, as Dave reached out, unsure of how he should touch her for fear he might wound her further. He leaned over her, pulling the curls out of her face and getting a good glimpse of her pained expression. He should have listened to her, should have let her speak and then he could have prevented it all, but his pride and stubbornness had gotten in the way. He pulled her over onto her back, stabilizing her arm as best he could, despite her cry for him to stop. And he held her there on his lap as he had the first time he had come to her rescue in the same ring.

Her eyes found his as his thumbs grazed the tears away. "I'm sorry." She cried as she spoke, hardly able to get the words to pass her lips. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had left her there to fend for herself. "Your knee…"

"Hush…later." He told her, "He didn't get the knee and I'm not going anywhere." He was reassuring her as best as he could until the trainers could get in the ring. Her arm was lax against his leg and it made him want to vomit, but he acted as if she were in perfect condition, for her benefit…and his own. "Be still."

She closed her eyes, relieved that he wasn't badly injured, as the familiar throb of the dislocation set in…she could remember it well, though it had not happened in ages. "I did that kick." She whispered, trying not to cry.

"It was perfect, too." He began to laugh, as he held her and brushed another tear off of her face. His throat was constricted with a lump as he spoke calmly to her. The trainers and referees converged on the center of the ring and he reluctantly had to let her go.

"Oh, yeah…that shoulder's out." He heard one trainer say, "Let's just get her to the back."

The team opted for a stretcher rather than try to get her up and walking, but even that was tormenting to watch. They pulled her arm against her body, amidst her groan through clenched teeth and rolled her onto the stretcher.

"We're gonna fix you up, sweety." The trainer told her as Dave watched her lay there her eyes still closed as if she was desperately trying to find a peaceful place somewhere, a type of meditation in the midst of the crisis.

"Get a bandage on him, Tim…that needs stitches." The trainer pointed toward Dave who was bleeding heavily from the laceration on his forehead.

The crowd who had become almost silent began to clap in respect as the group left the ring bound for the back.

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