A/N: Ack! Stupid Smackdown! I knew I just knew that RVD and Big Show would be traded to Raw. (Insert grumpy look.) But oh well, I'll learn to deal with it; I'll end up writing the Draft in it when the story actually gets going.
By the way, thanks a bunch to those who sent me kind reviews. And, to m4ever, thankyou for volunteering to be my beta reader but my older sister already has that job. But, you'll be the first to know if she quits it. Thanks again though!
Chapter Two is a continuation from Chapter One
Wishful, Sinful.
Chapter Two.
"So, Jocelyn. Are you a new Diva or what?" Mark asked casually.
Jocelyn laughed sarcastically. "Hell no! Do you see me strutting around the ring in skimpy outfits?"
'No but I see you naked in my bed…' Mark thought, to cover his thought up and to stop the redness creep on his cheeks, he tilted his head to the side and answered. "Not really no. So, what are you a crew member?"
"Nope, I'm the stepdaughter of one of your colleagues." She replied, not really giving out much information.
"Oh yeah." He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. Look, nice meeting you I guess but I gotta go." Jocelyn brushed pass the Deadman leaving him in the corridor to gather his thoughts on what just happened and why he thought of her naked.
Not many women could turn down the Undertaker so carelessly and walk away indifferently. Mark shrugged and walked into the cafeteria, he needed a coffee, badly.
"Going to be alright in here?" Paul asked, while taping each of his large fingers with tape.
Jocelyn looked up from her spot on the floor, piles of CD's and books thrown around her. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go win."
"Promise?" Paul asked again. He knew she hated it when he had to get her to promise. But what else could he do? He trusted her to the very end, but who knows when she might slip up?
"Yes, I promise. Get lost, go win and bring me back a souvenir." She pointed to the door and flicked her wrist jokingly, signalling him to leave.
She glanced around the Men's locker room when he left. Bags of all shapes and sizes were scattered around, shirts lay on top of lockers or bunched up on bags. And the room smelt like sweet cologne, not the cheap kind of sweet but sweet enough not to give people sudden headaches or make them sneeze. Jocelyn closed her hazel eyes. The silence in the room was peaceful and comforting, she propped herself up on one of the lockers, her feet crossed over one another and her hands in her lap and attempted to have a nap.
Mark opened the Men's locker room door and walked in, he was making an appearance tonight for the first time in two months since WrestleMania XXI and to add to his annoyance he had a match against the whiney JBL.
A slight noise of shuffling caught his attention, following the sound he treaded over behind a shelf of lockers that were in the centre of the large room.
A shadow fell over Jocelyn's face, she kept her eyes closed and opened her mouth to speak.
"Did you win?" She asked, thinking it was Paul.
"Not yet Darlin' but it's nice that you're rootin' for me." Mark replied, smirking.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked up blushing slightly. "Oh, its you. I thought you were Paul."
"Don't look too excited." Mark said, crouching down.
"Eh, I'm trying to though. " She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged her arms around them.
"Why are you in here, haven't you noticed that it's a Men's locker room? Not a unisex one."
Jocelyn glared at Mark. "Am I blind?"
"Never said you were Darlin'." Mark responded, he sat down properly and picked up one of her CD's.
"Drop it." Jocelyn said, as if she were talking to a dog.
Mark smiled and released the album from his fingers, the CD dropped and clattered onto the floor.
"Asshole." Jocelyn snapped, picking up the unharmed album, it was her favourite Doors CD.
"Darlin', I've been called much worse."
"Good, 'cause you're going to hear worse if you continue to annoy me."
"Is that a warning I hear?" Mark cupped an ear.
Before she could answer with a smart-ass comment, Paul walked in; he had won his match against Matt Morgan.
"Hey 'Lyn, I won!" He called out, walking over he stopped when he saw Mark.
"Didn't see you there, she alright?" Paul asked, he hadn't seen Jocelyn yet and panic started to rise in him.
"Yeah, we were having a friendly chat, weren't we Darlin'?" Mark looked at her.
"Get screwed." She growled, packing her CD's and books up in a bag and standing up.
"Oh Jesus. Jocelyn must you?" Paul sighed; he smiled apologetically at Mark and walked over to her.
"Yes." She crossed her arms under breasts and shouldered her backpack.
"What did I do to deserve this?" Paul muttered under his breath, unfortunately for him, Jocelyn heard.
"You married my mom." Jocelyn pushed angrily passed the two giants and walked out, her head bent and walking at a fast pace.
"Care to explain?" Mark asked, standing up and facing Big Show.
"Where do I start?" Paul rubbed a hand over his baldhead this was tough on him to tell Mark.
"The beginning might help." He pointed out.
"Thanks," Paul chuckled and took a deep breath. "When Jocelyn was nine, I met Tammy at a local restaurant in New York. She was absolutely the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. Anyway, we began dating after awhile, Jocelyn was still young she was a happy girl. A year and a half later, I proposed and Tammy accepted, we got married and shit. When Jocelyn was thirteen, Tammy was diagnosed with breast Cancer; we did everything we could for her, got the treatment and everything, Doctors found more Cancer cells, we lived with the continuous treatment and a sick wife and mom. Six years later, Tammy died, a few weeks after Jocelyn's nineteenth birthday. Jocelyn and Tammy were close they were practically best friends. When she died, Jocelyn's world was shattered; she's gone suicidal on me, man. I can't leave her anywhere by herself and she hates that."
"I'm sorry Paul, I truly am. Have you taken her to see therapists?" Mark asked, he was somewhat shocked at Paul's story.
"Of course I have. She'll stare at the wall not talking to them. She won't open up to anybody. When she does, she's bitter, everything about her is sour. It takes a fucking strong willed person to get her to open up…"
"Yeah, look man, I have a match to get ready for but if you need any help with her, I'm here." Mark clapped Paul on the shoulder and walked over to his bag.
Jocelyn sat on the hood of Paul's truck, her head resting on her knees. 'Stupid fucking Mark! Arg! I hate him.' She thought, she was aware of how childish they sounded, but she couldn't care less, he got on her nerves and she knew that he knew that he did it.
"Hey, 'Lyn. You ready to go?" Paul was in front of the truck she looked up and nodded.
Jocelyn crawled into her bed and cuddled up to the pillows. It was a long day and she was physically and emotionally drained. In a few days, she'll be on a plane to Arizona, on the downside she'll have to see the idiot of an Undertaker and be stuck with Paul.
Closing her eyes, sleep soon overtook her and she lay on her bed with The Doors album held tightly in her hands.
A/N: Sorry it was short and well fairly pointless. But oh well, I liked it. Please don't flame me, it's mean and uncalled for and if you do I will have to bite you. But by all means, review!
See you all in Chapter Three!
