Chapter 19

Paul watched as Jetta threw herself off the ropes, catching her and suplexed her. Stepping back, he stared down at her, nodding. "You're learning." He said evenly. The first time she had taken a 'bump', she had arched her back instead of flattening it to spread the pain. Quickly learning absorbing a blow or move on just one part of the body hurt like a bitch.

It'd been two weeks. Two weeks of pure and utter miserable hell! Paul was tough. Her first day, Jetta ended up practicing how to fall for five hours straight before she was allowed a break. Then she had to learn how to do a flip off the top rope and land on her stomach, which hurt worse than anything she'd ever felt before in her life.

Jetta ended up soaking in tubs full of ice, something she thought she'd never do considering how much she loved hot baths. Though, Paul explained to her why an ice bath helped. Not only was her back and stomach bruised, but they were swollen and the ice baths helped simmer that down a lot, not to mention strengthened her muscles.

After the first week, Paul had showed her how to punch, though he quickly learned she wasn't an elbow to the face kind of gal and told her she could use her fists if she wanted. The ref would have to tell her to open them up, but she wasn't required too, much to Jetta's relief. A few more moves like a cross arm bar, an ankle lock and back body drop was taught during the end of her two week period.

Now Paul was going through all the motions with her to see if she fell right and whatnot. He never once congratulated her or told her how great she was doing. Jetta didn't need that. Discipline and obedience are what Paul looked for and she was trying her damnest to show him she could do this.

Paul wasn't known as one of the most dedicated, passionate men in the sport for nothing. He expected anyone who stepped into a ring to learn how to do the job or get the hell out. He had studied every aspect of wrestling, learned everything he could, and made sure the people he sometimes helped learned everything they could as well.

"Let's see a moonsault." He said, leaning back into a turnbuckle, brown eyes watching her intently. This was basically nothing more then a test.

Jetta nodded and climbed to the top rope, balancing herself and sprung off before landing on her stomach with perfection. Her body had gotten used to the falling and hard bumps so she didn't even flinch and made it to her feet when Paul nodded his head once. She did it again, arms outstretched, legs spread out just right and got up again. The moonsault wasn't going to be her finisher, but it was a hell of an effective move that could incapacitate her opponent.

Jetta's move was going to a flying heel kick to the back of the head. She had practiced it with Paul, who pointed out the flaws of it, and made her perfect it before they moved onto anything else. Now, Jetta could do it with her eyes closed, though she had a slight problem. She couldn't figure out a name for it and nodded when Paul directed her to do another moonsault, apparently not having it down as well as she thought.

"I'll let Linda know you're doing very well in your training." Paul said after making her moonsault three more times, nodding in satisfaction. That was as close to a compliment as she was going to get. If she survived her first match without choking and screwing up, then he would tell her she had done a good job.

Jetta nodded as she stood back up, cracking her neck and knuckles, complete focus and business on her own face. "Thanks." She replied and slid out of the ring as Paul told her to hit the showers.

She knew better than to take a shower after what she just endured and immediately filled a tub of ice before settling down in it, hissing at the contact, wearing black shorts with a black sports bra. It would all be worth it in the end, that's what Jetta kept telling herself. When she walked down that ramp way in front of the huge audience in front of Michelle, Jetta laughed as she pictured the look on the broad's face. Sinking lower in the ice bath, Jetta closed her eyes and began wondering how Mark was doing, knowing it would a long road before they reached reconciliation, especially with what she was doing. Vince deserved it though and Jetta wanted her revenge almost as much as Mark.

Linda listened with a pleased expression on her face as her son-in-law informed her that Jetta was almost ready for the ring. "How much longer?" She asked eagerly.

Paul was silent for a moment. "That depends."

"On?"

"Is she going to continue wrestling after she defeats Michelle?"

Linda noted he had said 'defeats', which meant he was sure Jetta could, and her smile broadened. "That is entirely up to her."

"I give it the full month just to sharpen her techniques a little more, Linda." Paul stated finally, wondering idly if Jetta would continue wrestling.

She had talent, he would give her that much, but it took more than just talent to make it in this business. She would have to improve on her microphone skills and how to portray a character. She hadn't picked a name for her finishing maneuver not to mention her in-ring name. Unless she was sticking with Jetta.

Sighing, Paul said goodbye to his mother-in-law before going to make dinner. Two more weeks and then Jetta would be ready, along with him. With her training came his own, wanting back in the squared circle in the worst possible way. If Jetta had what it took, and he had no doubt she did, she would be a true force to be reckoned with in the WWE. If she stuck to it though.

Linda sat behind her desk, staring down at the phone thoughtfully. Two more weeks and the fun would really begin. Smiling sweetly, she decided to give her husband a call and let him know she was considering his offer of dinner, maybe they could squeeze something in a few weeks...Since they'd been separated since that night Vince had left her several messages, none of which she had returned. She was thinking...dinner and a show.

~!~

Stepping off the plane in Phoenix, Arizona, along with Paul, both of them walked through the airport, going through security. She was wearing a baseball cap with black glasses, trying to be inconspicuous so nobody would know she was back. Paul had helped her with her finishing maneuver called 'The Shotgun'. It fit and Jetta was happy with it, deciding to keep her name. She had her outfit and everything ready for the pay-per-view that night.

For weeks, there'd been secret video messages that were cryptic airing during Michelle's matches, telling her the time has come to meet her judgment. It was a hot May night –due to them being in Arizona- and the pay-per-view was, coincidentally, Judgment Day. A fitting name if Jetta did say so herself. Smirking, Jetta slipped inside the black long stretch limo with Paul before heading to the arena. Their luggage was already at the hotel in two separate rooms, obviously, though Jetta had her bag on her lap full of surprises.

~!~

"I'm NOT going in there, man. HELL to the NO."

Glen stared down at John. "Come on, I'll pay you." He said, glancing at Mark's closed dressing room door. Still no word from Jetta and Mark had become a...bear, to put it politely. "Stephanie said he needs to come out and be seen walking down the hall..." He was chickenshit. He didn't want to relay the message. He had a kid on the way.

"How much?" John asked, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"A hundred."

"Man, go fuck yourself, dawg. That ain't even going to cover the cost of the emergency room treatment let alone the pain killers!"

~!~

The limo pulled into the back of the building and Jetta felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach. Nobody except Paul and Linda knew what was going to happen on this night as she pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to breathe.

"You don't need to throw up do you?" Paul asked gruffly, glancing at her, knowing she was nervous. Hell, screw that. She was SCARED and he didn't blame her. She was about to wrestle in front of thousands, on a pay-per-view, against Michelle McCool. She had every reason in the world to be scared, though he hoped she got over her nervousness or else the show wasn't going on. "Let's go."

Nodding, Jetta stepped out of the limousine and followed Paul inside the back entrance. Hardly anyone was here and they were taking a way that was sure they wouldn't be spotted. Jetta was lead to her dressing room and instructed to keep the door locked until it was her time to debut. Jetta nodded and thanked Paul for all of his help before closing and locking the door, finally going into the bathroom to toss her cookies.

~!~

Glen and John were STILL going at it in the hall. "A thousand?"

"Show me the Benjamin's." John said, holding out his hand.

Sighing, Glen whipped out his wallet and started counting out hundreds.

"Eight hundred, nine hundred, a grand." John took the money, rolled it up, and pocketed it. Bracing himself, he opened the door. "Yo Mark, Glen needs to talk to ya!"

Glen could only watch as John flew off down the hallway before turning to find Mark towering in the doorway. "COCKSUCKER!"

~!~

Staring back in the mirror, Jetta couldn't help smiling as she smoothed down the bottom half of the dress. It was a black and blue spaghetti strapped dress that had a cut design for the hem. The top hugged her breasts and sides nicely, knowing nothing was going to bounce out that shouldn't. It had a criss cross design down each rib cage and the ribbon was blue, the same color as the streaks in her honey blonde locks. Her makeup consisted of dark blue eyeliner that brought the cerulean in her eyes out even more. Her lips were painted a dark blue as well and she had on a black and blue choker around her neck that wouldn't interfere with her wrestling.

Walking over, Jetta slipped on her knee high wrestling boots, already having her elbow and kneepads on, leaving her hair down. She laced them up and grabbed the black cloak from her bag, whipping it to get the wrinkles out before pulling it over her. She would have to walk to gorilla position and Paul was going to escort her, not wanting anyone to see her until she was in the middle of that ring in front of Michelle. When a knock sounded at the door, Jetta looked in the mirror one final time before pulling the cloak hood over her head, wrapped herself completely to where nothing was showing, not even her face, and walked out.

~!~

Mark had been in the middle of a rant, telling Glen he didn't give a damn what Stephanie wanted, when he seen Paul walking alongside someone in a black robe, idly wondering what kind of gay return the Game was planning on making.

"Paulie, whatcha-" Glen arched an eyebrow when Paul didn't even look back. "What the frigging hell?"

Slowly, she made her way down the hallway, everyone turning their heads and smirked wickedly. She couldn't wait to unveil to the world and kept her head lowered. Linda had told Vince she had hired a new wrestler to take on Michelle, told him the storyline idea, and, of course, he ate it up. Not like he really had a choice in the matter.

"This is it." He whispered in her ear, stopping at gorilla position, and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Just breathe now."

"Thank you for everything Paul." She whispered to where he could only hear her and closed her eyes as he stepped back.

"Paul..." Stephanie walked over to him, grabbing his hand, and smiled as he kissed her lips. "Who is that?"

"You will know in a few seconds." He promised quietly, nodding once at his brother-in-law, noticing Mark and Glen had joined the crowd along with John, stopping anyone who even made an attempt to grab the cloaked figure.

"Hey, I betcha it's two midgets under there!" John said with a grin, trying to reach out and pull down the hood only to find Mark literally slapping his hand. "Ow!" He pulled his now sore hand to his chest. "I'm sorry daddy."

Glen snorted, quickly turning it into a cough.

Michelle was waiting impatiently in the ring, throwing up her hands and rolling her eyes.

Don't talk, don't tell

Don't talk, don't tell

The cloaked figure walked through the curtain, the techno music flowing through the arena speakers, the Titantron swirling in a weird black and blue design. Strobe lights were flashing all around as the figure made their way down the ramp, still not revealing who was underneath. Jetta heard the deafening roar of the crowd and had to take several breaths as she walked up the steel ring steps. Though when she looked up enough to see Michelle McCool's smug, impatient face, every single emotion diminished except anger. She stepped through the ropes with ease and stood on the opposite side.

Now, tomorrow, anytime

I see faces staring

Other faces staring

Don't talk, don't tell

We're waiting

For morning

No sign of it

I'm listening

Can't hear it

Are we sure we didn't miss it?

I see faces staring

Other faces staring

Don't talk, don't tell.

When the moment finally arrived, Jetta mentally counted to three before slowly looking up, the white lights coming on as her music faded and took her black fingerless gloved hands to pull the cloak hood back. She seen Michelle's jaw drop and didn't even smirk. Her cold, calculating blue eyes just stared back at her as the cameras flashed all around her, removing the rest of her cloak, letting it drop at her feet.

Michelle's judgment day had finally arrived.