Five

"You are playing such a dangerous game, Deadman. I sure hope to fuck you know what you're doing."

"Why is it so fucking hard to believe that I'm not trying to play games with Celeste? Shit, I try to be goodhearted and look what it gets me," Mark said with an indignant shake of his head. He was sitting in the locker room with Trish Stratus, Bradshaw and Stephanie McMahon. It was a joint-brand show in Albuquerque, New Mexico. "Yes, I agree it looks bad because she is Brock's - and I use the term very loosely - girlfriend, but Christ, I get so sick of seeing her locked up in that hotel room like a fucking prisoner while he runs around on her. I can't believe that they outright abandoned her at the arena the other night. Why are you looking at me like I'm the bad guy here?"

"We aren't, Mark. We understand. It's not going to get any better for Celeste," Trish replied, shaking her head. She was dressed in her ring gear of black vinyl pants, a black studded halter top and her boots, her bleached blonde hair styled in a flattering wave around her face. "I heard that he's running around on her with Torrie Wilson while they keep her locked up at the hotel."

"Fuck." Mark shook his head. "Good luck telling her that. She thinks that she's the second coming of Snow White and Brock's her Prince Charming. I brought up the other day that it's not right they way that they treat her...and she proceeded to slap the taste right out of my mouth." They laughed.

"It's about time someone did that," Stephanie told him jokingly. "You got a big mouth, Mark."

"Oh, come off it, Steph - mine's not half as big as Bradshaw's." Everyone in the room laughed. "Look, seriously, guys, I am trying to do the right thing here. I really don't like the way she's being treated. She deserves better."

"I know what you mean," Stephanie said with a nod. "I always forget she's around. When I try to talk to her, she looks like she's afraid of me."

"I haven't spoken to her," Trish confessed. "I tried to last month, but that little troll Heyman intercepted me and just let me have it."

"What did you do?" Mark asked. Trish snorted.

"I told him to go fuck himself." Everyone laughed. Trish was one of the most outspoken Divas on the roster. While most of the women backstage were afraid to say what was on their mind to the bigger guys, Trish was more than ready to let them have it if they crossed her. She shook her head. "I'm with Bradshaw, though, Mark. Fucking around with another man's woman is a recipe for disaster. I hope you know what you're getting into."

"I'm not fucking her, Trish," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm trying to be a friend because it looks like she could use one right now. There is no ulterior motive behind it. I swear." They nodded. Mark had the reputation for being brutally honest and upfront backstage, so nobody had any reason to disbelieve him. But they enjoyed busting his chops.

"Ms. Marlowe?"

Celeste stood alone at the coffee table, fixing herself a cup. Brock said that he would be back to see her after his segment, but it had finished a half hour ago. She knew better than to go look for him. She figured he was off with Paul, training in the weight room like he always was. She jumped at the unmistakably female voice, turning to see Stephanie McMahon approach. Brock didn't like Stephanie.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to startle you," Stephanie replied. Celeste dismissed it with a wave.

"It's all right. I'm a bit tired, so I'm a little jumpy. What can I do for you?"

"I heard you slapped one of my top guys." Celeste sighed.

"What did he tell you?"

"That he opened his mouth and you slapped the taste out of it," she said with a laugh, fixing herself a cup of coffee.

"Can we not talk about this? If anyone close to Brock or Paul finds out that I've been in close contact with the number one contender, I am in so much trouble." Stephanie sighed. "Please don't think of it like that. They just don't want me involved with the business...and whether I like it or not, you guys are the business."

"Then why are you here?" Stephanie asked, fascinated by this way of thinking.

"I'm here because I want to be," she replied. Stephanie chortled.

"That sounded so rehearsed," Stephanie told her. "Is that what you're telling yourself? I don't care if you're Brock's childhood sweetheart or whatever...I wouldn't put up with half of what you've had to put up with."

"I guess that's the difference between you and I then," she replied, grabbing her coffee and storming away from her. Stephanie watched Celeste retreat. She may look demure, but Stephanie could see some spunk in there. That was something to be admired. She only hoped Mark knew what he was doing, tangling himself up with Celeste Marlowe. She hoped that it didn't mean trouble for him.

Celeste opened the door to the locker room and almost dropped her coffee.

Mark flashed her a warm smile and she resisted the urge to throw her cup at him. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing," she replied, her voice low and shaky, "but you have got to get the hell out of here before Paul and Brock come back."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, much to her chagrin. Her shoulders slumped. He saw the panic rising in her face. He approached her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm your friend."

"You are a pain in my ass," she whispered through clenched teeth. He smiled.

"I can certainly live with that."

"Mark, I'm telling you, you have to leave," she said, her voice rising a bit. "You can't be in here. Get out!"

"Celeste, I'm not leaving you alone to do nothing. Come on - Trish Stratus wants to meet you. You need to make friends here, whether you like it or not."

"That's not your decision to make. Get moving, or they're going to jump you the second they get back here."

"Ah, you're not worried about yourself. You're worried about me. Let me tell you something, Celeste: I've been here twelve years. I know how to take care of myself."

"I didn't say you didn't," she replied softly. "Just the same, though, you need to get out of here while you still have the chance." Mark sighed.

"Fine. I still stand by it, Celeste. I'm here when you need me." He turned only to be dropped with a hard right hand from Brock Lesnar.