A/N:Thank you DK for helping me pick out Beebs dress, for some odd reason I was stuck on that one little detail. Anyway I made this chappie pretty short because the pace just worked. Don't ask me why. Anyway I'll be updating again soon so don't worry.
She stood in front of the building, unusually uncomfortable with what she was about to do. It shouldn't matter. It was just practical, especially when Abeebah considered what had happened in her encounter with the elder of her two bond mates, but she was no less uneasy about it. The eldest horseman forced herself to take a deep breath and walk into the clinic. She was immediately greeted by an overly cheery assistant. "Ms. Johns?" Mutely the hazel eyed young woman nodded.
"Doctor Lennox has been expecting you; just go to that second examination room over there." The woman pointed vaguely over to a far off corner. And mumbling an equally general word of thanks Abeebah made her way to that room. The dark beauty entered, not bothering with knocking on the partially opened door. She quickly took in the sterile sights and smells of the tiny space, sweeping her eyes over the various charts and doctorial books crammed on the few shelves.
The darkest horseman did her best to ignore the examination table she was most likely to be laid out on in the immediate future. Finally her eyes landed on the doctor himself, who was sitting at a small desk hunched over one file or another. He was younger than the eldest horseman expected. Around twenty something or thereabouts by her reckoning, small, not startling so but enough that Abeebah would take notice. "Dr. Lennox?" Immediately whisky eyes were met by dark, almost black eyes.
Thin lips stretched into a welcoming smile and deceptively weathered hands waved her over to have a seat on the examination table. Slowly Abeebah took the invitation, not letting her eyes leave the good doctor's. "So what can I do for you today Ms. Johns?" Lennox's weighted voice washed over her, Italian, she identified, trying to stop the overwhelmed once again by what she deemed necessary. The young man knew she was stalling with her silence and let her.
Abeebah Johns wasn't the first young woman he had to deal with and the fact that she was over eighteen both baffled and relieved him as a general practitioner. "I need contraception." Lennox blinked, and wondered how the young woman could be so blunt yet remain tactful at the same time. Maintaining the easy relaxed air that he already established the Italian American cocked his head. "Ok, I need to ask you a few questions, now if there is anything you are uncomfortable with, or you have questions of your own just stop me." Abeebah nodded slowly, fighting the blush that wanted to heat her face.
Clapping his hands together Lennox leaned back in his seat, "ok first question; are you sexually active?" "Yes." Cold, flat, and sharp, Abeebah strived to establish her usual way of dealing things outside her comfort zone. "Did you talk to your partner or partners about this before coming here? And if so have you already taken measures against STD's and or pregnancy." Too embarrassed to look him in the face, the eldest horseman finally bowed her head, "no and no." Lennox was only mildly surprised, "first time?" He asked sympathetically. Abeebah couldn't stop the flush from blazing her exposed throat. "Yes." She said out loud, with her face thankfully concealed by her hair, because had the horseman's first lady looked up, her face would have said 'No.'
Kane glowered as best as he was able to through the eye holes of his mask, at the maniacal twosome sitting before the mending McMahon. Mismatched eyes stared black voids into the back of their heads. The big red machine didn't want to be here; despite the opportunity to know what else his 'father' had been scheming. His attention lay more on his younger bond mate whom had been doing schemes of her own. He had already tried to read what she was thinking twice. The first time was just after he had gotten backstage, only to see a replay of Morte's interference.
Almost automatically Kane had called forth what little rage that hadn't been drained from his match forth, demanding answers. The younger Calloway brother couldn't stop the flinch that shifted his entire being, as he remembered the livid agony that answered him. Then blushed as his thoughts turned to his second attempt, all too glad that no one could be witness to the shade of chrisom that he was sure was ablaze his features. It was like being pulled out with the tide, experiencing 'them' again.
There was no control, and no way to save himself, and on some level Kane hadn't wanted to. It was just something so 'right' about being with Abeebah and Mark. And even though physically he wasn't there, it didn't mean that Glen was any less drawn. Suddenly the brunette's attention was drawn back to were his employer was informing Paul and Mankind on his plans for Thursday. "We don't want any screw ups, so Mankind, you will be in a hell in the cell match against the Undertaker." The business tycoon informed his most deranged employee. Mankind twitchily clapped his hands in maniacal glee.
Kane wasn't surprised when his stomach lurched, imagining the kind of fight that would culminate between the two most sadistic wrestlers to grace the WWF. He knew that there wasn't going to be anything pretty in that match. And unconsciously the big man prayed for his brother's safety. "Wot about that harlot an er' bunch?" It took all of Glen's self control not to deck his portly benefactor. If anything, Vince's expression became even smugger as he leaned back in his tall wing back chair. "Since Morte has 'recovered' I'm sure she wouldn't mind teaming up with her sister against the headbangers in a no holds bared match."
The masked demon stilled. His entire being abruptly filled with ferocity that sorely tested the glacial stoicism that he had learned from both of his bondmates. 'Don't move, don't think, and don't you dare feel.' It was a useless demand upon himself seeing the despite the added chill of Abeebah's way of thinking, Kane could feel the white hot rage stacking like columns of blistering coals. He could hardly concentrate on his employer's next words. "As for Guerra, he'll be too busy in the king of the ring tournament to be of any use."
Masked lips curled back to reveal menacing white teeth. The chrisom demon fought the quaking rage that struggled to pulse through his entire frame. It was a futile battle, but the three conspirators were too busy to take notice of the red burning in those usually forest and crystal depths. It was a uphill battle to maintain his mental facilities but Kane managed it. The horsemen wouldn't be hurt by this particular scheme. Viluppo had already shown how devastating she could be and Kane had no doubts about how far Morte could and would go. But still, the big red machine resolved to 'talk' to Lue as soon as possible.
Thursday morning Abeebah stared blankly at the outfits she laid out on her bed for her 'date', and wondered not for the first time what exactly she had gotten herself into. Taker had already called the day before to tell her exactly when they were meeting. 'We are not a couple.' She kept telling herself even as she contemplated what she was going to wear. Then, in a fit of her old analytical ways the darkest horseman listed the reasons why she didn't want to be 'official' and there were many. One, it was too complicated. 'Not that you haven't done complicated before.' Her treacherous heart retorted.
"Whoa." The eldest Johns shuck herself into back into full awareness, glancing over her shoulder. 'Fuck.' Standing by her hotel room door was Viluppo. The most sinister of the apocalyptic riders' light skinned sister looked morbidly at the rather unorthodox array spread out before her. One dress was classic Abeebah, a black cut out chiffon dress with a wide collar and sheer bell sleeves that bunched at the wrist.
The next dress, for a lack of a better term was a complete 180 from her sister's norm. For one thing it was white, a color that Abeebah looked phenomenal in, yet still despised. For another thing, the ancient Egyptian style based 'dress' would most certainly contour to her generous curves. And the sheerness of the fabric promised to conceal very little. In short, it was the third born horseman's opinion that the article of clothing literally screamed "fuck me!"
Tucking that particular thought away for later examination Delia turned her attention the final choice her sister had lain out. The last dress, though just as classy as the first still managed be twice as sexy with a dangerously plunging neckline and curve hugging ankle length a line skirt. The acid green color reminded Delia almost uncomfortably of a certain deadman. The second youngest Johns glanced at her sister, all too aware of the blank stare she got in return. "And who are you going on a date with?" She asked slyly realizing that she couldn't give Abeebah any wiggle room if she wanted answers.
"I'll be out for a couple hours," Abeebah evaded, "so don't wait up for me, I'll meet you at the arena." The eldest horseman turned, not even looking down at the dress she grabbed from her bed. But her sister wasn't about to let her go that easily. "Nice try Beebs, now come tell little sister what's up." The light skinned horseman effortlessly maneuvered her eldest sibling to sit on the edge of the bed. Grasping the young woman's unoccupied hand the third eldest horseman made sure that there was no chance of escape.
Even though Abeebah's features remained bland Delia was more than a little bit aware that her sister would have loved nothing more than to glare at her. "So who is it?" And for a painful moment the darkest o horseman said nothing. She felt trapped knowing that lying was not an option and yet still unwilling to tell the truth. 'How does one explain to their younger sister that in essence their mother figure is married, and has been for months now?'
And for Abeebah the answer was pretty straight forward, you didn't, ever. "Do I need a reason to dress up Delia? Especially with our impending doom," the doe eyed beauty scowled. Both for the fact that once again her liege lady had once again dodged her line of questioning and for the fact that Abeebah had a point. "Only if you had fear for your life, which beloved older sibling you don't, so I suggest you answer my question."
The ocher eyed wrestler clucked her tongue reproachfully, not letting her dry wit fall under the deep scrutiny that Delia seemed determined to place her peculiar actions under. "Just be glad I've decided against getting roaring drunk while I'm at it." 'Not that the thought hasn't crossed my mind' Abeebah thought wryly, discreetly removing her hand from Delia's and moving to get a quick shower. So stunned by the implications of Abeebah's words, Delia didn't question her further and merely watched as she went to the bathroom.
Mark gazed at the grounds of which he waited for the darker of his two bond mates. This land was rich in spirit. He could see it in the people who now frequent it, smell on the air, feel it thrumming through his skin. There were deep magicks imbedded into the soil, and this was part of the reason why he had specified this meeting place. The park was too alive for them to be tracked, or at least by anyone that was not of their trinity. The deadman had no idea whether or not Kane would be able to feel their presence in this sacred space.
"Hello Mark," the phenom turned around and was confronted by Abeebah in all her dark glory. The eldest horseman wore a green dress that conformed sinfully to her shapely frame. The plunging neckline was almost level with her navel, tied off with a thin sash made of the same shimmery material. He followed the length of the dress down to her silver high heeled feet, taking in the entire effect. In a word Abeebah looked stunning.
Her deeply bronzed hair hung in a dark wave down her back, save the bangs concealing her scar. Which, Mark noticed, was becoming an ingrained habit considering the constant recognition and stares that she received because of it, many of the wrestlers back stage might of seen it, but none of her fans as of yet had. Deadman held out his arm for her to take out of habit, and she took it without thinking, flashing the only piece of jewelry that she had dined to wear to this outing. It was a finely crafted sliver bangle that wrapped around the upper portion of her arm, with lotus flowers flanking the ankh in the center.
He quirks a miniscule smile, his acid green gaze finally locking on her bland features, "nice." Abeebah ran an applicative eye down his chiseled form. "Thank you, you're not looking bad yourself." She said and she meant it. The demon of Death Valley left his long auburn hair loose over his broad shoulders which were clad in a light gray button down shirt, which he had tucked in his black jeans. And almost against her will, the eldest horseman's eyes zeroed in on said jeans, taking in just how well her elder bond mate wore them.
"Like wot cha see darlin?" Tearing her hazel gaze from the admirable sight, Abeebah's revealed her teeth in a liberal smirk. Moving even closer so that her side was all but plastered against his, the eldest horseman sent him a saucy look before deliberately pulling away, causing the phenom to growl. "Damn straight, I like." She informed him quite bluntly, "but you didn't invite me here to just screw around otherwise you'd just have told me where your hotel room was."
Taker grunted not at all surprised that she was able to deduce that this was more than a roll in the hay. But then again he wasn't ready to answer the implied question caressing his psyche. He pulled her along with a gentle but firm grip, taking in the sights around them. Abeebah doesn't push, she never pushes and Mark can't help but be irritated by her seemingly endless patience. 'Not endless Mark, far from endless, just really, really, long.' She informs him dryly.
The red haired wrestler didn't bother suppressing the snort that worked its way up his throat, dispelling the tension that had unconsciously built in his shoulders. 'Still, that leaves a man wondering what it'll take for that patience to run out.' Mark studiously watched their surroundings. Abeebah blew out a frustrated breath, still not understanding why one of the men who were supposed to know her the best felt the need to try her already frayed nerves. 'I don't know what kinda confession you're hope'n for old man but you're not getting it that way not now, not ever.' Abruptly she stopped and reaching up to cup his cheek Abeebah glared into Mark's hypnotizing orbs, 'so say what you mean or say nothing at all.'