A/N: This would've been out sooner, but I scrapped the original version of this chapter because it was too dark and a little sappy...So, I rewrote it. Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.
The boys had to pay out the ass to keep their rooms after the fight, but after a few words with the manager (who was a big Bret Hart fan) we were all still in the same building. We got in a good night's sleep and had a giant breakfast together. The girls and I went shopping, the boys...well we really don't know where they went to, we never do. All in all, a good day, leading up to this one moment. My first match in the WWE...a dark match, but a match all the same. It was just to warm up the crowd, but I thought it'd be fun to job to Nattie, just to see how I stacked up. The announcer did his thing, and brought Nattie out first. A few minutes later I was striding out to the ring with my song, a revamped version of Fleetwood Mac's song Rhiannon. There were some boos, which I expected seeing as Nattie is the Diva babyface. I crawled up in the ring, shook Nat's hand, and waited for the bell. Nattie is a very technical wrestler, me, well, I'm highflying and care free. Funny, huh? She came at me immediately trying to push me to the mat for the sharp shooter. I caught her in the head with a beautiful roundhouse kick which knocked her to the ground long enough for me to scamper to the top of one of the corners. I leaped off executing a perfect shooting star press and then went for the pin. The ref banged the ground one, two, three times and the crowd lost it. I thought they were going to boo, but I guess I did a good job. I motioned for someone to hand me a microphone and then I addressed everyone in the arena.
"Hello Portland! How are you guys tonight?" They cheered, "My name's Rhiannon, and I have a feeling you guys are going to be seeing a lot of me. Now, I know I'm not who you came here to see, so why don't ya' tell me! Is it Wade Barett?" Boo. "How about Lay-Cool?" Another Boo. "Sheamus?" The hottest heat of the night. "The Miz?" Ha, and I thought Sheamus was the worst. "Cena?" A lot of pop. "John Morrison?" Oh, the girls liked that one. "I bet I know. You all want to see the Viper!" The crowd went wild, and I pushed myself out of the ring just as the cameras started rolling. Jerry Lawler and Michael Cole started their routine while I made my way to the back. Vince McMahon, who was set to referee a match between Stu, Randy, Stephen, and John C., was waiting for me when I got to catering.
"Ms. Saber! You really got that crowd going!"
"Oh, hi Mr. McMahon!"
"You've got some skill on the mic."
"Thanks."
"Ya' know, I pay my talent big bucks to do that."
"Yeah, I know. " I glanced to the side.
"Well, how'd you like to officially debut tonight?"
"Huh?" One of my eyebrows shot up. "With all due respect Mr. McMahon-"
"Call me Vince."
"Vince, I don't even know what's going on with story line and well ...I...I...I don't have too much training under my belt."
"Oh don't give me that bull. I've watched you in the ring, and I saw you out there. I know you trained hard for 2 years on the Indy circuit, and you had a great run in Louisville. I picked you for a reason. "
"You picked me? I thought Stephanie did."
"Well, actually Paul did, but that's aside the point. You're debuting tonight. You're going to be my valet"
"What!"
"You'll walk me to the ring. No ifs, ands, or buts about it! Now, I've got to go talk to the writers and to some of the other talent and let them know the deal. I'll send someone to tell you the plan."
"Thanks." I ran off towards the girls' locker room, and hid myself in a shower stall. I heard everyone going in and out and snippets of conversations. I think the funniest was Lay yelling at Michelle over some botch up in their match. Eventually someone came in and told me the new direction for story line, and I headed over to my locker to change into something more suitable. Good thing that I'd brought my stuff with me. In the end I marched out to the ring on Mr. McMahon's arm in a pair of ripped up, distressed jeans, a black and white pinstriped tunic, my wrestling boots, and a cropped denim jacket. We were the first one's out, and he held the ropes open for me so that I could follow him into the ring. Next we watched as Stu made his entrance, acting snide and snotty, and then John C. came out to an enormous pop. Stephen was out next, and I had to focus on something else because the camera kept turning towards us and I couldn't blush. I was fighting a smile the whole time, especially when he walked right past me and gave me a small grin. Last out was Orton who got the most positive reaction from the crowd. I felt a little odd standing in the ring with the giants, but I didn't let it show. Vince reached for a mic.
"Now, men, I know you're staring at this pretty little thing next to me." As per story line the baddies AKA Stephen and Stu, shook their heads and grinned. "So, I think I'll give you a little incentive for this match. My beautiful valet here is going to be ringside; whoever wins gets to choose whether or not they want a date with this lovely lady or a chance to fly home. Rhiannon?" He turned towards me, "Is there anything you want to say?"
I stole his mic with a smirk, "Yeah, actually. Since I'm the prize for this shin-dig, you guys are going to follow my rules. Mr. McMahon may be the ref, but I'm calling the shots. You tic me off and you're disqualified, you break the rules, you're disqualified. If I don't like the way you look, you're disqualified. Get it? Got it? Good." I threw the mic to the ring announcer, jumped over the ropes to the apron, and smirked at Stephen and Stu. Vince looked them all over, sending them to their respective corners and signaled for the bell to ring. The men rushed in as I backed myself off of the apron and onto the floor. Bodies were everywhere. Stephen gave Stu a brogue kick; Cena got a DDT from Randy. Then, Stu whipped Cena into a corner and Stephen went after him, Randy hit Stu with a chop block, and then I had to focus back on Stephen. He was knocking the crap out of Cena; Vince strolled over to them and started the count.
"One! Two! Three!" Stephen jumped off of him and glared at me. Then I saw that Stu had rolled up Randy for the pin and the first elimination. Vince jumped down and started that count, going faster than he should have, but Randy kicked out just before he hit three. It went back and forth for a while, but it came down to Stephen and Randy in the ring. Vince, who was supposed to be partial to the heels, let Stephen slide with a lot of stuff, but when Randy was pinned in a corner with Stephen throwing his knee into Randy's belly, I did what we had planned on. I rolled under the bottom rope, signaled for the bell to ring and announced Stephen as disqualified. Then, I strode over to him and tapped him on the shoulder like I was supposed to, and right on cue he turned around and hit me across the face. Not full force mind you, but enough for me to have something to work with to sell it. I hit the ground and cradled my cheek. I was told to look at him with a hurt expression, but I couldn't bring my eyes to his. If I did then I would blush or something and I wouldn't be able to sell it, so I came to my feet, still holding the side of my face, slipped under the ropes giving Mr. McMahon the expression meant for Stephen, and I ran. Yep, on live TV, I ran.
The rest of the night I spent with my brother-in-law who'd been in the audience. He took me out for dinner, bought me a new outfit, and caught me up on the latest family news. My mom was on a real craft kick and had sent him a shit ton of wreaths…Mom's a bit eccentric. Dad was just as big a baby, as usual, cowering under Mom's demand for more twigs and butter…she cooks a lot, too. My brothers were all happily wrestling on the Indy circuit back home, as well as my nephew, Aaron. Finally, right before he dropped me at the airport, he told me about my older niece. When I say older, I mean that Kate is one year older than I am…I was mom's accident. Anyway, turns out that Kate was getting married soon to a guy I'd been wrestling with for ages. His name was David. The wedding was in about 3 months, and I was informed I needed to bring a date and be ready to listen to Bridezilla gripe about every last thing. I smiled, gave Bruce (my brother-in-law) a hug, and collected my bags before closing the car door and rushing through the airport to find my gate.