Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 9

February 6th

Tommy let a rare smile break over his face as he finished his last set of weights and sat up cracking his knuckles.

"What do you think?" he asked Frank, who had been spotting him.

"I think Marco Santo had better watch his back," replied Frank, holding out a hand to help Tommy up. The two had been working-out after hours, rehabilitating Tommy's shoulder and starting to work on his general condition. Frank, disagreeing with the doctor's "no physical therapy" diagnosis had given Tommy a long list of exercises he could do every day to strengthen the damaged muscles. He pushed Tommy hard but that was the way he liked it, the exercise took his mind of his other troubles.

The two men had sort of become friends, Frank admired Tommy's work ethic, his willingness to do the desk job he was so clearly unsuited for and his quiet sense of humor, a trait that Tommy reveled as rarely as his smile. On Tommy's part he was starting to enjoy working for Frank, being back in the gym where he was most comfortable and being on the road to competing again. Tommy respected Frank's training abilities, drawing out the best in each fighter: Jay's quick fists, Midnight's strength, and Brendon's technique. He longed to be in training properly, sparring in the ring, or working out the day's frustrations against a punching bag. However, Frank had been adamant; he had to wait at least a month for his shoulder to heal after the re-setting and even then would have to be careful. It was at times like these that Tommy wondered why he was still talking to Brendan.

The brothers had grown yet closer over the last few days and Tommy was now picking up his nieces from school so that Brendan could stay late and coach the new after-school MMA club. The pair had talked about Tommy coming in to do some demonstrations at the club but so far Tommy had postponed any trips until he was back in professional training. Brendan had fielded endless questions by the kids in his physics class about his younger brother's whereabouts in the months after Sparta and he knew the boys would enjoy meeting their idol.

Frank let Tommy head back to the changing rooms whilst he locked up the gym early for the night. Tonight was something of a special occasion for the gym owner, one of his best fighters, Marco Santos, was competing for a UFC title right in Pittsburgh. In honor of the event Frank had organized tickets for everybody and had let his fighters off their strict "no alcohol" rule for the night; it wouldn't hurt them to have a beer once in a while. Tommy emerged from the changing rooms in an unassuming black t-shirt and jeans, baseball cap already pulled low over his dark hair.

"Is Brendan coming tonight?" Frank asked, locking the office and starting towards the door.

"Nah, Rosie's sick so he's staying at home." Frank looked concerned. "Its just chicken pox, nothing too serious this time." The little girl had come down with chicken pox only the night before and was currently driving both her parents to distraction with her wails and constant scratching.

Frank started the car; he had offered to drive Tommy to the event since Tommy didn't have any means of transportation. Tommy in fact had no intention of buying a car any time soon as he had recently put most of his severance pay into leasing an apartment for the rest of the year. Brendan had helped him pick it out, searching through realtor's magazines in the evenings and discussing the various merits of furnished or unfurnished lets. Considering it was the first place Tommy had ever owned, and the first place he'd ever had to himself, he thought it was very respectable. A small, one room apartment, all open-plan with a mezzanine level for the bedroom, Brendan told him there wasn't room to swing a cat in the place but Tommy liked it for the view and the privacy. He was looking forward to moving out of Brendan's house as well, as much as he was grateful the Conlon family's generosity in letting him stay it would feel good to have his own place

As the two men approached the CONSOL Energy Center, where the competition would be taking place Frank started to look around for a place to park.

"Place is packed" he complained.

"Yeah, Pittsburgh really likes the UFC," replied Tommy, pointing out a parking spot to their left. The two of them got out of the car and started towards the stadium, Frank switched direction, heading away from the front entrance and around the side of the colossal building. "We're going the back way", he explained, holding up his pass to the security guard at the door. Tommy followed him through the maze of concrete hallways until they reached the locker room housing Marco Santos. The roar of the crowd was muffled by the concrete over their heads and it gave Tommy the strange feeling of being underwater. It reminded him of how he felt before getting into the cage in Sparta, disconnected from the world, alone, and waiting.

The lockers were crowded with men, all Frank's professional fighters had been invited to the event, and Marco was so well liked that everybody had come by to wish him good luck.

Frank crouched down beside Marco, and started prepping him, wrapping his knuckles and warming him up.

Tommy wandered over to Jay, Joe, and Chad, the trio had occupied one corner of the room and were chatting amicably, all taking advantage of Frank's relaxation of the "no alcohol" rule for the night. Jay offered Tommy a beer and he accepted, snapping back the top of the can.

"Have you placed any bets?" asked Jay swigging back his Carlsberg like a pro.

"Yeah, put five dollars on Santos to win his first round."

"Who's he up against?" asked Chad.

"Mad Dog Grimes." Grimaced Joe, "What an asshole."

"Just makes it even better when you put a beatin' on him." Said Tommy, grinning at the memory. He didn't really have anything against the mohawked fighter but the satisfaction of beating him sure was sweet, the man needed taking down a peg or two.

The crowd of well-wishers around Marco was starting to thin out, Frank was shooing people out of the changing room so he could start getting Marco focused for the challenge ahead. Tommy and the others gave the increasingly nervous-looking Marco a wave and a clap on the back before heading up into the stands. As they climbed the last staircase and headed into the stands the noise of the thousands of spectators washed over them like breaking waves. The men started edging along the rows of seats until they reached the ones closest to the ringside- reserved for the fighter's entourage. Within moments of them sitting down Jay offered another round of beers. They talked, drank, and people watched for the half-hour before the fights were due to start, Jay pointing out hot girls in the crowd. The place was filling up, the rumble of the crowd grew ever louder, and Tommy checked his watch, any moment now. As the time reached nine o'clock, the presenter, a local tv-personality, leapt up onto the podium and announced the fighters for the first round.

With a rumble of drums Mad Dog Grime's entry music started- Down with the Sickness by Disturbed. The fighter emerged from the tunnel surrounded by his entourage. Tommy noticed that he'd dyed his mohawk bright red and black stripes to match his sponsor's colors. They all booed enthusiastically, Chad shaking a fist at Mad Dog as he passed close by them to leap into the cage. Tommy caught Colt Boyd's eye and nodded at him as the trainer mounted the steps into the cage to prep Mad Dog he'd have to catch up with the old man sometime.

"We got good seats." Remarked Joe as they watched Mad dog warming up.

Marco's entry music, Beethoven, surged through the speakers and they turned to watch him make his way towards the cage. Unlike Mad Dog, Marco got terrible stage fright until he was safely in the cage and Frank was having a hard time keeping him calm as he half dragged him from the tunnel and within reach of thousand of adoring fans. It seemed that Marco was just as popular with the public as he was at the gym.

"Looks nervous." Murmured Chad, concern in his voice.

"Always does," replied Jay, "he's a complete pussy about the crowd but a beast in the cage."

"Better than the other way around I guess." said Tommy and the others nodded in agreement.

Once in the cage, they could see Marco's demeanor change, he straightened up, handed his hoodie to Frank, and returned Mad Dog's glare unflinchingly.

The commentators were making much of Mad Dog's return to form after his humiliating defeat in Sparta and this being Santos's first fight after a bad knee injury which had kept him out of the very same tournament. One thing they all seemed to agree on was that this would be a very close fight.

The two men met in the middle of the cage, both radiating aggression and trying to stare the other down. The referee had to separate them a little to keep the fight from starting early.

"Gentlemen, I want a clean fight, obey my commands at all times, defend yourselves at all times. Touch gloves, move back… Fight! "

The fighters exploded into action and the stadium shook as twenty thousand people leapt to their feet.

By the second round neither fighter had managed to find a significant hold over the other. They circled the cage like sharks in a tank, sometimes striking out at each other with lightning quickness. Mad Dog tackled Marco to the ground, locking him into a submission hold. Everyone in Marco's entourage jumped up to get a better look at the two fighters, now locked together. Marco wriggled like an eel but Mad Dog's hold tightened inexorably around his throat. He had him deep and Tommy could see Marco beginning to loose consciousness. Thankfully the bell rang for the end of the round and Marco was allowed to struggle woozily to his feet. He staggered to his corner of the cage and was immediately given water by Frank who started mopping at a nasty cut above his eye.

"It's getting serious in there." said Chad, shaking his head, he and the other men in Marco's entourage would have much preferred a quick fight, since his injury Marco wasn't as fit as he had been and everyone could see him starting to flag a little. Frank was giving a pep talk; eyes flashing with conviction and the dizzy fighter seemed to rally a little, his eyes focusing. As the bell rang for the start of the fourth round Marco leapt up to meet Mad Dog with a barrage of punches. Mad Dog went down with a kick to the chest, smacking against the side of the cage. Now the fight was even again, both men swaying with the effort of the bout, Mad Dog shaking his head as though to clear water out of his ears. Everybody leaned forward; on tenterhooks as the two rallied and lashed out again, Mad Dog dragging Marco down to the mat for another submission hold. This time however the returning fighter flipped him over and slammed him to the ground with a force that made the arena shake on its foundations. Mad Dog was out cold.

It was over and the crowd leapt to its feet again as an elated Frank vaulted into the cage and dragged Marco's arm into the air. The whole entourage followed the victorious fighter back down the tunnel for a victory celebration before the start of the next rounds. The hooting and hollering followed them all the way down to the dressing rooms where everybody milled about congratulating Marco and cracking open a few fresh cans of beer. Finally Frank shooed them all out again so that Marco could have his face stitched up in peace. The brawny fighter was smiling so hard that the nurse was already having a hard time working on his cuts.

Tommy left the others for a moment as they mounted the steps to get back to their ringside seats. He was glad for Marco, the man had worked his ass off to get back into shape after the injury that had kept him out of Sparta, and it was always nice to see Mad Dog Grimes beaten into the mat. He wandered down a hallway looking for a men's bathroom, he'd had one too many of Jay's beers.

As he rounded a corner he was surprised to see a group of girls, young women really, all dressed in tiny red shorts and crop tops. Just as he'd hoped to get past without them noticing him checking them out, a petite redhead marched right up to him, her hair clashing violently with her outfit.

"Excuse me mister, we're a little lost."

He looked her up and down, "yeah, I can see that-"

"We're looking for the athletes entrance… you know, the tunnel?"

"Uhh, yeah that's around the other side of the building, just keep on following this hallway until you get to the steps then, take a right."

"Thanks, that's really helpful- we're the half time show, don't wanna miss our slot." The girl smiled, flashing a set of very white teeth, and sped off with the rest of them. As Tommy stared back after the he realized that each girl was wearing fish-net tights, he grinned to himself as he continued on his way- he would to be sure to get back to his seat in time for the show.

Five minutes later and Tommy was ambling back to the stands. He'd taken a wrong turning somewhere in the labyrinth of corridors and was struggling to get his bearings. Up ahead he saw someone round the corner and hurrying towards him. It was a girl, dressed the same as the one's that had asked him for directions. As she neared him, he called out to her.

"You lost?" The girl jumped a bit, eyeing him up then smiled.

"Totally, and late."

"Half-time show?"

"Yeah." She nodded and grimaced- "I've got five minutes to get on stage and I have no idea where I'm going."

Tommy didn't want to admit that he was also completely lost so he told the girl to follow him. He glanced at her as they walked together in silence down the corridor. Her slippered feet didn't make any sound and she shadowed him like a ghost. He glanced back at her again, something about her seemed familiar.

"Say, do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

"I dunno," the girl fixed her doe-brown eyes on his, studying his face; Tommy flushed under her scrutiny. "Maybe from somewhere- you live in Pittsburgh?"

"Yeah, work at a gym."

"Cool- like a boxing gym?"

"MMA."

"Ooh, so you're scoping out the competition here."

Tommy nodded "yeah, something like that."

Suddenly they turned a corner and Tommy could see the steps leading out to the Tunnel, a tight knot of fishnet-clad girls was waiting at the entrance.

"Wow, you really know your way around here!" exclaimed the girl, "Thanks for the help, I'm Katrina by the way." She stuck out a small hand for him to shake; up close he could see that her pretty face was covered in freckles.

"Tommy- good luck with your show."

"Uh uh- not good luck-"

"Break a leg, I know." Tommy quickly corrected himself.

"That's better, see you around Tommy." She flashed him a quick smile and sped off to join her friends. Tommy watched her go, not quite able to stop himself from checking out her ass as she went. Shaking his head he climbed the stairs in search of his seat. He was sure he knew that girl from somewhere- something about her seemed so familiar but he couldn't think what.

"What took you so long?" asked Jay as he settled into his seat.

"I was a rescuing damsel in distress," deadpanned Tommy.

"Ooh, a lady."

"Yep. One of them cheerleaders."

"Cheerleaders?" the others chorused, Tommy nodded towards the stage where the girls were filing out onto the raised dais, that held the cage. Their entrance set the crowd cheering again, this time mixed with lewd catcalls and wolf whistles.

After a moment of complete silence to let the anticipation build, music started- a high-speed mash-up of Katy Perry's "E.T." with a bas line to make your back teeth rattle.

"Hey, we know that girl!" Joe pointed to one of the dancers, almost spilling his beer in excitement.

"What girl?" the others chorused.

"The blonde one, look she's getting lifted up by the others."

"That girl?" asked Chad in disbelief. The girl in question was stretching her leg behind her head in a way that Tommy was sure was not as nature intended.

"Yeah, from the café."

"The ballerinas?" the others chorused again, squinting to get better look. Something clicked into place in Tommy's brain. Of course, the girl he'd helped out was the hot brunette with gorgeous lips and the blonde one was the girl Joe had talked to that one time.

"Wow," he said, "we should go out for lunch more often."

"Maybe we should go see the ballet more often." countered Jay, with a wide grin.

The dance ended with a loud car-crash sound and all the dancers tumbled onto the mat, the crowd cheered and whistled as the girls filed out of the stadium swinging their hips and swishing their hair.

The rest of the night was a blur to Tommy; fights came and went, he and the others drank their way through Jay's extensive beer cooler. Alcohol didn't usually go to Tommy's head, being mostly muscle did that much for him, but after his seventh beer he realized he'd had enough.

"Oh man this is going to be brutal." Said Chad, Rampage Jackson was squaring up to Marco Santos. The two men were getting in each other's face like pit bulls in a dogfight.

"hmmm?" replied Tommy distractedly, his head wasn't in the game, he was still stuck on that girl.

"You all right?" asked Jay.

"Yeah, yeah, how you think Santos goin' do against Rampage?"

"I dunno man- dude's a monster."

"Yeah…"

Jay looked at Tommy sharply, "I know that look man- you still thinkin' about that girl."

Tommy blushed, suddenly very interested in his shoes. "Who'd have though- hard man Tommy Riordan, hung up on a damsel in distress?"

"I'm not hung up on her- don' even know her." Tommy mumbled.

"You thinkin' about her though?"

"Y- no?"

"Oh come on, don't have to be a chick about it. How 'bout you get her number?"

"Her number?"

"Yeah- come on Romeo, you think she's gonna turn you down?"

"I bet five dollars that she does." cracked Joe, earning him a glare from Tommy.

"Yeah me too" piped up Chad, clapping Tommy on the back with a hand the size of a dinner plate - "It's about time you had some fun. Bet she runs the other way though."

"Okay okay, challenge accepted." He acquiesced with a sigh. "But if I win, that's five dollars from each of you." They all agreed and shook on it.

Tommy left the others in the parking lot, he had to take the night bus back to Monroeville, Frank lived in the opposite direction so he couldn't catch a lift.

"You sure you don't want a ride man?" asked Jay, leaning out of the window of his hulking SUV.

"Nah man, its cool- could use the time to think."

"About your girl?"

"Bout winning that bet." Tommy tried to rescue his street cred.

"Sure man whatever you say." Smirked Jay.

"Night Jay" replied Tommy with a wry smile.

The bus stop was crowded with people fresh from the fight, still rowdy and pumped up. Still, they left Tommy alone; with his baseball cap pulled low over his face he hopped to avoid recognition and his tattoos seemed to warn off most people. Tomorrow, he vowed visit his father; he'd put it of long enough. Images of the brown-eyed girl darting away from him to join her friends flashed through his mind. He smiled to himself- that was one bet he would make sure to win.

A/N

In this story I have used a line from one movie and one book (although the line in the book refers to a boy not a girl). First person to find either one or both of the lines gets a virtual gold star and preview into the next chapter.

Happy hunting!