A/N: I know, it's been forever. And I have no excuse other than the fact that I have been SWAMPED lately. With school starting again, it's really hard for me to find time to write, but I'm going to TRY and get an update out at least once a week. I hope I haven't lost you guys. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 22
"What the hell was that!"

Dave smiled, shaking his head. He expected Trish to react this way. He knew from the second he stepped back into their hotel room to find her staring coldly at him, that he was in trouble. He walked over to the table, dropping the steel baseball bat that was in his hand. He shrugged his shoulders, sending her an innocent look.

"I thought it was pretty cool," he said with a smirk, plopping down on the couch beside her. With her arms still crossed, Trish shifted in her seat, turning towards him.

"Cool?" she repeated in disbelief. "Do you have any clue what you just did?"

"I know exactly what I did, Trish. I walked into the Smackdown arena and smashed the shit outta JBL's limo," he said proudly. His eyes lit up at the thought of the shattering windows on the WWE Champ's limousine.

"And for what?" Trish retorted. "He didn't try to have you run down."

A scowl wrinkled her pretty complexion as she recalled what happened on Monday night. She didn't agree with this at all. Instead of JBL's windows, it should have been Hunter's face he was smashing.

Dave sighed loudly. Tossing an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her up against him. He was almost surprised that she didn't see the logic behind his actions. The plan had 'Trish' written all over it.

"It's about sending a message… you should know that by now. I remind JBL he doesn't wanna mess with me, and at the same time trick Hunter into thinking he outsmarted me. Killing two birds with one stone… or, one baseball bat," he explained, taking his sunglasses off and tossing them onto the table.

Trish frowned. She understood why he did it. But it almost seemed like he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. It was okay for her to make rash decisions and bold moves because the extent of her competition was a skinny redhead who couldn't fight her way out of a paper bag. Dave, on the other hand, was dealing with the two most powerful men in the company. His actions needed to be more carefully thought out.

"What if they attacked you?" she asked suddenly. "You would've had four guys on you, not one."

Dave smirked at her, squeezing her shoulder. He had thought it all out. He knew there was a good chance that Bradshaw's "Cabinet" would be ready and willing to attack… which was exactly why he never stepped foot into the building. By the time they got outside to assess the damage, he was long gone.

"Exactly why I told you to hang here," he told her. "Besides, you think I've never got my ass handed to me before? I'm sure I'd deal."

Trish shifted away from him, staring at him incredulously. For months Dave had postponed leaving Evolution because of the paralyzing fear he had over Hunter kicking his ass. And now, suddenly, he wasn't afraid? Even more than that… he was just plain nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Are you drunk?" she asked. Her face twisted with confusion. That was the only logical explanation for his calm, complacent demeanor. "Because you sure as hell aren't making much sense right now."

"I wish," Dave replied with a snort. His laugh was rueful. He turned towards her, his hand slipping from her shoulder and grazing down her back. "I know what I'm up against, trust me. I haven't forgotten that quickly."

"Then why are you acting like you don't care?" she questioned, glancing down to watch her fingernails drag across his thigh. "You're about to enter the fight of your life with the most dangerous man in the world. Don't pretend it's not affecting you. Like you're not scared."

Dave's eyes floated away, his finger tracing down her spine. He sighed, "I think you and I both know that I'm scared shitless." Of course he was scared of Hunter. Any man targeted by the Cerebral Assassin had every reason to be fearful. "But what am I supposed to do, sit around and wait for him to take me out? You know better than that."

Trish nodded, lifting her head. She knew he was right. And if it was anyone else pitting themselves against Hunter, she would have supported their every move. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Dave, and that made the rules change. He was softening her.

"I do know better," she agreed, meeting his eyes. "I'm just worried. I want you to make sure you're thinking all of this out before you go pulling stunts."

"This is thought out, Trish. I know what I'm doing… and come Monday night, we put this operation into full swing."

Trish bit her lip thoughtfully. "I hope you're ready for a fight," she voice carefully.

Dave smiled and leaned forward. He kissed her forehead, reaching up to her cheek and stroking her tension away. Then, his eyes grew serious, and he stared at her with a fierce determination.

"I'm ready for an all-out war."


Though Thursday through Sunday had been nerve wracking for her, Trish was beaming as she waited behind the curtain on Monday night. She held tightly to her championship belt, having successfully defended it against Molly and Victoria. She wasn't yet sure which felt better – retaining her title, or simply having a match. And with the only two women in the company of any comparison to her, at that.

She waited patiently in the gorilla position, her eyes brightening when her opponents emerged. The three of them shook hands, grinning widely. It had been so long since a real women's match had been booked for Raw. They knew they were running out of opportunities to show management that they deserved to be taken seriously.

"If that didn't impress Vince, I might just have to tell him to kiss my ass," Victoria spoke as the three ladies headed down the hall. She rarely hid her opinions, and it was no secret that the raven-haired diva did not hold the WWE Chairman in the highest regard. Of all the divas on the roster, she suffered the most because of the influx of Christy Hemmes.

Trish sent her a reassuring smile, "We'll show him Vic, don't you worry."

They continued their triumphant march down the hall, until Trish separated herself from the others before reaching the locker room. Her night was far from over, and she needed to track down Dave. He was going over some old tapes – which Hunter's ex-wife Stephanie McMahon was more than willing to hand over to him – and instructed her to go to the arena without them. That had been hours ago, and so Trish suspected he would have arrived by now.

As she began her search, she happened to wander past, of all people, Christy Hemme. She swallowed the anger that lurched in her throat, forcing her gaze away as she hurried past them. She had more important things to worry about then the redhead perched up against the wall, engaged in a discussion with Candice Michelle.

"What an enthralling conversation that must be," she muttered as she passed them.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't the three time Slut of the Year," Christy called after her.

Trish froze in her tracks, whipping around to face the two women. She marched over to them, a smug grin on her face as she prepared to reply to the catty remark.

"Now, Christy, don't you have a nice photographer you could be getting naked for?" she quipped. She gave a phony smile, and then turned her attention to Candice. "And you, sweetie, isn't there some B-rate porn movie you could be appearing in?"

The expressions on the faces of the girls turned sour. Giving Christy a rough pat on the back, Trish winked and turned away. Once again, a comment left Christy's lips the moment she turned away.

"Ya know Candice, for someone who's supposed to be the toughest chick in the business, she sure does a lot of talking, and not a lot of backing it up."

Again Trish turned sharply on her heel, stomping back over to her. Despite how badly she wanted to respond in words, Trish held her tongue. Instead, she reached back and swung, slapping Christy hard. The younger woman dropped down, a pained groan escaping her as she rubbed her cheek. Trish shook the sting out of her hand, and then did Candice the same favor, smacking the unsuspecting diva across the face.

Before long, a scuffle ensued. If you could even call it that. Trish could've easily handled both women at once, but luckily for Christy, several officials had been watching from near by. They quickly separated the three women, and as referee Mike Chioda dragged her away, Trish smiled.

Her grin faded when, down the hall, she saw a frazzled looking Ric Flair running around. As they neared him, she watched him take out his cell phone, and she pulled her arm out of Chioda's grasp. She rested against the wall and watched him. Flair dialed, and when there was no answer, left a frantic voicemail to whom she concluded was Dave. According to Ric, he still hadn't shown up yet.

Trish backed away, concern flooding her dark eyes. Where could he be? He'd be there, she told herself. He wouldn't skip out on his contract signing, the most important night of his career…

Would he?