The Goldan Jackal and The Silver Falcon
by The Cajun Phoenix
A/N: I decided to continue the cell phone numbers exchange scene from "Remy Silver" and give the classic Diva in distress scene a bit of a twist. Keep reading if you want to know what that is.
Apology Denied
Maryl exhaled as she wrote down Remy's name and cell phone number. She hoped to at least see him again at the next show. Since both she and Remy were on the "SmackDown" roster, this would not be as massive of an obstacle as it might have been had they been on different brands. And Maryl couldn't afford to overlook the Divas from "Raw" and "ECW" since she could never be sure which of "Raw"'s numerous guest hosts might cut a deal with "ECW"'s Tiffany or "SmackDown"'s Theodore R. Long or where she might end up next.
Before she could consider anything else, she figured this was as good a time as any to see what catering had available. She managed to get a to-go carton of baked chicken, a slice of applesauce cake, raw new greens (she hated eating cooked greens because they looked stringy and limp), and at least two slices of chuck round sirloin.
"Don't you think you should apologize to our Women's Champion?" a deep female voice asked from behind Maryl.
When Maryl refused to answer, she found herself being spun around.
"Stop turning me around!" she snarled, glaring at the blonde Diva with several pink streaks in her hair. She surmised this Diva was Natalya Neidhart, as the pink-and-black jacket, tank top, and tights were all trademarks of The Hart Foundation and its current incarnation The Hart Dynasty.
"What do you want?" she said, wishing Natalya would either finish talking or get out of the line.
"I said, don't you think you should apologize to our Women's Champion?"
Maryl exhaled, her patience wearing thinner than single-ply toilet paper. Michelle got her head split open because she removed the turnbuckle cover. Yet Michelle didn't have the heart to make her case directly to Maryl. Instead, she had to bully the other Divas into relaying the message to Maryl!
So what if Michelle ended up needing stitches to close the gash in her head? Michelle was aware of the risks that came with being the Women's Champion just as the male Superstars were.
And Maryl didn't consider her debut match against Michelle a cakewalk either. She practically got put through the ringer in a two-against-one handicap match all because Michelle didn't have the heart to get in the ring with her one-on-one. Instead, Michelle tried to cheat by bringing her little girlfriend to ringside just to screw with Maryl's head.
"For what?" Maryl was clearly disgusted with Natalya, and she wanted no more fights for the rest of the night. "I don't owe Michelle McFool an apology for busting her open in the ring and I damn sure don't owe her an apology for giving her the beating she had coming when she slammed my head into the locker."
Without another word, Maryl edged past Natalya and asked for a to-go carton. This was because she didn't want to pass out from hunger or thirst halfway between destinations. Her to-go carton closed, she wrote her name on the box lid and got ready to go to her rental car that would take her to the airport and home.
Maryl's mood had completely soured after her run-in with Natalya. Had she not left the third-gen Diva where she stood, she knew a second brawl was all but inevitable.
How typical of Michelle McFool! She doesn't have the steel stones to confront me one-on-one about splitting her head open, so she forces another Diva to do her dirty work for her! Not that it matters because I don't owe her an apology, and she's got no right to demand one from me!
Flashback
"Maryl, open this fucking door!"
Thinking that it was her ungrateful now-former boyfriend returning to rape her again and maybe kill her, a completely drained Maryl ignored the barked command and held Neveah as closely to her as she was able to.
"Maryl, I'm gonna break down this door if you don't open it!"
Maryl winced because the last thing she wanted to do was deal with that waste of skin who had left her laying in her own blood.
Maryl stared up but could barely move. It took her several moments before she could drag herself to the door and unlock it. But that was all she could do before she collapsed face-down onto the floor.
From several feet away the male figure who was outside Maryl's doorstep was dark-haired and muscular.
"Just like my worthless scumfucker ex, " she mused sourly as she raised her eyes toward the figure.
It wasn't Ben at her doorstep, though. It was her younger brother Marcus.
"Maryl, what the fuck happened?" he exclaimed as Maryl staggered to her knees.
"If you're gonna blame me for what that scumfucker did to me, don't even say a word to me, " she rasped, groaning as she struggled to make it to her feet, only for her badly bruised legs to buckle, sending her to her knees but not concealing the damage Ben had already inflicted on her.
"Maryl, what the fuck happened?" he repeated once he noticed the dried blood and bruises on her thighs.
Ignoring Marcus's question, she leaned against the wobbly orange-and-blue bedside table and tried to regain her balance. She barely made it to her knees before she nearly collapsed again.
This in turn meant that Marcus would have to get close enough to help his older sister if she fell down.
"You look like shit, big sister, " he said when he saw Maryl almost fall onto her face before he made his way toward her.
Maryl could do little more than glare at her younger brother. What the fuck did he expect her to look like after Ben had raped her and left her bleeding on the now-stained paisley carpet?
Marcus would have definitely beaten Ben within an inch of his life if Ben made the mistake of storming back into the apartment. That was how much he hated Ben for leaving Maryl in the sorry condition she was in.
"Is there anything I can get for you?"
In spite of Marcus's hatred toward Ben, he still wanted the best for Maryl even when her decisions were at best questionable and at worst flat-out reckless.
"Just get my clothes, " she said, barely nodding toward her cherry wood dresser.
Marcus did as his older sister bade him, packing a plain oversized slate gray T-shirt, a pale tan bra and underpants, and a pair of charcoal gray sweatpants into a black gym bag.
"What are you gonna do, big sister?" he asked as he set an oversized white towel on the passenger's side of his gun metal gray Silverado (1.) and the gym bag on the floorboard.
"What do you think?" she said, wincing as Marcus helped her to her feet and then helped her into the passenger's seat of the Silverado.
Maryl brooded miserably on her ride to the hospital. She wasn't looking forward to pressing charges against Ben for raping and abusing her. In her eyes, the rape might as well be called a hate crime against her simply for being born a female since her former boyfriend was consumed with such toxic hatred and corrosive contempt that she knew she wouldn't let him get away with his hideous hate crime against her.
End of Flashback
Maryl was already sweating through her T-shirt when she tried to start her rental car, only for the engine to refuse to crank. She tried again, but the engine refused to start.
This is beyond ridiculous! I'm gonna be stranded 'cause the car's engine won't start?
"Where are you going, doll?" asked a really cocky male voice as Maryl fumbled for her black-and-gold leopard-print cell phone to call for a tow truck to repair her rental car.
As the young man sauntered closer, Maryl realized this bleached blond in a dark blue and black dress shirt and black jeans was Dolph Ziggler. Unbeknownst to Michelle McCool, Dolph was also dating Layla El on a regular basis.
At this moment, Dolph's sexual promiscuity was the last thing on Maryl's mind.
"Trying to get this car started," she said tersely, not wanting to spend more time with the womanizing I-C Champion than was necessary. She tried to reach for her cell phone again, only for Dolph to grab her arm, knocking her phone from her hand.
"Why do you always leave before the show ends?" he asked as Maryl tried to block him from grabbing her arm.
"What business is it of yours?" she snarled, trying to wrest her arm free from Dolph's grip.
To her horror, he only held onto her arm more firmly, leaving several small bruises. "Let me go! I've got nothing to say to you, and I will NOT stay here and listen to you belittle me!"
"Who said anything about belittling you, doll?" Maryl's dark brown eyes widened in shock and then in rage over what Dolph had in mind for her. "Even though it's your fault that Michelle ended up getting several stitches in her head."
Maryl couldn't believe what Dolph just said. Michelle took off the turnbuckle cover and Maryl was being blamed for something the Women's Champion had done! Worse, Dolph had the gall to repeat this to Maryl after he had been pinned in his own match against Remy!
"Michelle's got nobody but herself to blame for slicing open her head," Maryl said angrily, scratching her fingernails into Dolph's right hand as deeply as she could and making his hand bleed. "And you stole that title you're carrying!"
"I never stole this title!"
"How come it reads 'John Morrison' and not 'Dolph Ziggler', you dirty Diva-dumping scumfucker?"
The Intercontinental Championship did indeed belong to John Morrison, as John was actually the Intercontinental Champion and not Dolph. But Dolph not only dumped Maria Kanellis, he stole the I-C title.
"I'm NOT a Diva-dumping scumfucker! And Maria cost me this title!"
"Big fucking deal!" Maryl snapped, her espresso eyes blazing with scorn.
"So now you're defending that worthless bitch?"
Maryl slapped Dolph hard across his face.
"You're the worthless bitch who dumped Maria so you could get in the panties of that chicken-headed slut who calls herself our Women's Champion! Stop wasting my time by demanding I apologize to that chicken-headed slut 'cause it's never gonna happen." (2.)
The moment Maryl said "Stop wasting my time by demanding I apologize to that chicken-headed slut 'cause it's never gonna happen" was also the moment she realized the smart thing for her to do was call for help and get out of the parking lot.
"You vicious little bitch!" Dolph snarled, striking Maryl across her face hard enough to make the bruise on Maryl's left cheek feel even more painful than it already was. "You split Michelle's head open and you blame her for what happened to her?"
"I didn't remove the turnbuckle cover," Maryl said, her dislike toward Dolph deepening into intense hatred as she saw his hazel eyes glare down at her, "She did."
"And I didn't ram her head into the rings holding the ring ropes together," Dolph countered as he realized Maryl wasn't going to assume any responsibility for Michelle's injuries or apologize for causing them, "You did."
Maryl had heard enough from Dolph. She wasn't going to apologize to him or to Michelle, and neither of them could force her to.
"You know what? Fuck all this garbage and fuck you!" Maryl shrilled as she made another grab for her cell phone, this time to call the local police and have Dolph arrested for assault. Instead, she found herself trying to fend off Dolph's blows.
"Who the Hell do you think you are?" he asked, trying to force Maryl into a closer embrace with him and becoming angry and frustrated when she pushed at him to make him get away from her.
"No! Let go of me!" she shrilled, her face completely mottled as she continued to shove Dolph backwards. Instead, he forced Maryl's jaw open and bore down as if to kiss her.
Maryl retaliated by biting Dolph's mouth when he forced his tongue between her lips, making a move to grab her cell phone. This time, Dolph grabbed both of Maryl's wrists as she yelled incoherently at him to release her.
"You beat Michelle once and now you think you're the new face of the "SmackDown" Divas?"
"You've got no right to judge my match when you fucking lost to the new kid!" she snapped, lifting her left leg and stomping hard on Dolph's right foot. By now, she had grabbed her cell phone and was fumbling with the buttons as she tried to move away from Dolph to put some distance between them.
And she might have succeeded had she not lost her footing. That gave Dolph mere seconds to tower over her fallen form.
"How does it feel to land on your back, you pathetic cunt?"
An enraged Maryl had fallen onto her back and legs, but she wasn't about to stay on the ground if she could help it.
"What the fuck are you doing? Stop it! Let me go!"
"I won't let go without getting an apology from you, " he countered, putting his foot close to Maryl's neck and breastbone.
Maryl spat at Dolph, only to feel her throat being slowly compressed to the point where she had trouble breathing.
"Go straight to Hell, " she gasped, coughing as she tried to get Dolph's foot off her chest and neck. Instead, Dolph tightened his grip onto her.
Maryl's face turned red and then almost purple, her efforts at freeing herself all but useless against Dolph's grip. She wondered if her debut match would also be her last match.
She suddenly felt Dolph's grip on her neck and chest being broken. She strained to breathe now that she didn't have Dolph's foot bearing down on her.
"You know what the words "No!" and "Let go of me!" mean?" Maryl heard a male voice ask angrily as Dolph was forcefully pulled away from her.
"That bitch busted open our Women's Champion's head and you yell at me?"
"You already lost a match against the newbie, " the voice growled, lifting Dolph off the coughing Maryl as easily as though the blond was a small child, "and you try to kill this young woman here?"
Maryl could barely see the man who threatened to beat Dolph into unconsciousness if he did not cease and desist, but she could hear every word.
"Why don't you shut up and teach that gutter slut how to respect other people?" Dolph sneered defiantly.
Those would be the last words Dolph would get to say on that night, for he found himself knocked out onto the pavement.
"I don't owe that bitch an apology!" she panted as she strained to focus her vision on the figure headed in her direction.
"Maryl?" the figure exclaimed as Maryl felt herself being helped to her knees.
First that jackoff tries to choke me and now I'm being yanked off the ground?
"Maryl, are you hurt?" the figure asked as Maryl felt herself being leaned against her rental car. By now, she had recovered her bearings and could focus her eyes onto the figure who helped her.
"Remy?" she said, her voice all but gone.
Remy nodded before handing Maryl her black-and-gold rolling backpack. "You left it in the catering hall." (3.)
Maryl had been so preoccupied with getting her to-go carton and herself out on the road that she forgot her backpack.
"Th-thank you, " she said when she was able to speak more coherently.
"What's his problem?" Remy said as he watched Dolph limp away.
"What isn't his problem?" Maryl then relayed how her match with Michelle McCool unfolded and how Michelle sliced open her forehead. "For a Diva who prides herself on intelligence and dedication, she should've known that when you untie a turnbuckle cover that your head can be slammed against it just as easily as mine could've been and hers definitely was, " she said with a weary sigh, grabbing her cell phone from where she had dropped it during her confrontation with Dolph. "Unfortunately, Michelle ended up getting stitches. How did your match unfold?"
"I beat Dolph and I'm a possible contender for the I-C title, " Remy said about his match with Dolph from earlier in the night. "But why would he confront you?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, " she said, getting a pen out of her black-and-gold leather waist-pack. "But had Michelle rammed my head into that turnbuckle, I could've just as easily been the one to bleed and not her. Then she'd laugh herself sick and then beat me up even more brutally had that happened."
Remy didn't argue with Maryl, though Michelle didn't almost kill her in the parking lot.
"I'm gonna try to start my car one more time, " she said as she got behind the steering wheel. But the engine refused to start. She got out of the car.
"This is what I'm dealing with, Remy, " she said unhappily. "If I can't get this rental car up and running, I'm gonna miss my flight for sure and get there late."
Remy got his own cell phone out and called the tow truck and the vehicle repairman for help. One way or the other, Maryl was going to make it to the next show.
It took almost four hours for the repairman to get Maryl's rental car up and running. By dawn, Maryl was ready to get to the next show whether she made her flight or not. But she was so desperate to get back onto the road that she almost completely forgot about Remy.
"I never got to thank you for helping me when Dolph was choking me with his foot against my throat, " she said, almost reaching out to hug the slim blond.
Remy looked puzzled. "I didn't lift Dolph off you, Maryl, " he said, letting his arms fall slack.
"But I heard your voice when you helped me to my feet, " she said, dropping her arms.
"You did. But I'm not the one who knocked Dolph out, " he said as Maryl struggled to piece together everything that unfolded while she lay almost unconscious, "Mark is."
"I don't know who Mark is." She blinked a little. "Unless you're refering to his WCW name "Mean" Mark Calloway."
"Is Remy your given name?"
"No, it's Russell, but everybody else calls me Remy."
"I couldn't care less if they call me Remy forever."
"As long as you like being called Remy, " said Maryl.
"Is Maryl your given name?"
Maryl shook her head, no, before adding, "Maryl is actually short for Marylynn."
"I've written down your name and cell number, Remy. But I forgot to give you mine."
Now it was Maryl who returned the folded slip of paper by the boots method, this time with her name Maryl Goldan and her cell phone number in a dragon-print address book/day planner for Remy. She had no idea if Remy would even call her at all. All she knew was if she had to battle it out with "SmackDown"'s Divas for a shot at Michelle's Women's title, she realized it would not hurt to have somebody who was on her side.
A/N: Your feedback and reviews are always welcome as long as you don't flame me.
(1.) The brand name of one of Chevrolet's most popular pick-up trucks (I don't own Chevrolet or any of the vehicles' names.).
(2.) Reference to how Dolph broke up with Maria after he failed to defeat John Morrison for the Intercontinental, or the I-C, title, right before he loses again in Remy's debut match. In this instance, Maryl throws Dolph's failures in his face, and he bitterly despises Maryl for exposing him as the sore loser he actually is.
(3.) Influenced by the scene in "Look Who's Talking" when Molly forgets her purse in the cabbie James's taxi and James drops by her apartment to return her purse.