Chapter 3

Armageddon came and went with Undertaker dominating Mr. Kennedy, after taking a horrible fall off the top of the set. That had made the crowd gasp and hold their breath, everyone wondering if the Undertaker was finished. Only for him to get up, dust himself off and finish the match by annihilating Mr. Kennedy. Definitely a match that went flawless and Emery smiled to herself, enjoying it immensely. They had great chemistry together; she'd known that the moment she'd started writing their feud out. Mr. Kennedy was a rising star on the Smackdown! roster and would continue to excel as long as he kept his cocky attitude in check.

"Hey, come to my dressing room and take a break." Randy said by way of greeting, finding her makeshift office with ease. "London has the new WWE game and we wanna check it out with you." She was a gaming fanatic, knowing everything there was to know about video games.

Shrugging, Undertaker and Mr. Kennedy's match was over, so she didn't see the harm since there was only one other match of the night. "Lead the way, Orton."

Mark shoved back behind the curtain, sweat dripping off of him and flipped his soaked hair back off his head. If Kennedy could just remember that he wasn't a superstar just yet… he'd do fine. The man was cocky as hell. He remembered being that way when he had first started out. Mark had gotten it beaten out of him by the veterans. Lesson learned. He had earned the right to be the asshole he was now. He spotted Randy Orton leading the dyke down the hallway and popped an eyebrow, wondering what that about.

Paul London looked up when the door to the dressing room opened, grinning at sight of the best video gamer he'd ever had the pleasure playing against. "Oh man, you brought the Queen here, eh?"

"Like I wouldn't? I wanna watch her whoop your ass again!" Randy crowed, slapping his friend on the shoulder and got a chair for Emery.

"Why thank you, Randy." Emery sat down and took the controller from Paul, looking at the screen at the new video game the WWE was coming out with. They always got first crack at it and she was excited, sky blue eyes igniting. "Let's do this and I'm gonna pick the lowest ranked person in the game, just to give myself a challenge. And still whoop your ass."

"That would be Hornswaggle then…"

She smirked, choosing Hornswaggle. "Bring it."

The fact that she used Hornswaggles character to beat not only Paul, but himself… and she did it without using cheat codes or anything. "Oh. My. God!"

"Ems, I swear to God, if you ever tell anyone about this… How? How do you do this?" Paul got down on his knees before her, hands clasped up as if praying. "Please – please teach me your ways, I am not worthy!" He started bowing at her.

"Get up, you asshat." Randy laughed, also enjoying playing games, but he was a secret computer game nerd. Emery did that too, it was great. They had their own guild in World of Warcraft.

Ever since he'd been brought back over from Raw -Vince had decided to do it for some reason he still didn't know-, Randy had never been happier. Triple H was the main cat on Raw and nobody would outshine him. Randy had been in his group called Evolution back in 2004 and hated it, thanking his stars when the company decided to put him on Smackdown! only. Then changed their minds by putting him on Raw before bringing him back again. Vince couldn't make his mind up…and he hoped the flip-flopping was done.

"Practice makes perfect, sweet cheeks." She pinched Paul's cheek for emphasis and laughed at his reddened face, kissing the top of his head. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I kicked your ass playing Hornswaggle."

Her giggles filtered throughout the room, loving both of these guys like they were brothers. That's what she considered them and they treated her like their little sister. They had each other's backs. It was a weird combination, but it worked for them.

"Randy, don't forget our guild has a meeting at midnight tonight." She reminded him, standing up and decided to get back to her room to pack up to go back to the hotel since the pay-per-view was almost over.

"That woman is something else." Paul shook his head, still not believing what just happened. "I even picked the Deadman and she destroyed me!"

"Yeah, that's par for course, you should've seen what she had me to do to Taker's bike."

"Wait… that was you and her?"

"He put his hands on her and… he decided to treat her like she was a kid back in high school. Fuck him."

"Is THAT right?" Mark had been on his way out after a very long, very hot shower and these bozos were talking with the door wide open. When Randy's jaw dropped, he just began laughing.

"Oh… fuck…"

Randy did NOT like the sound of the laughter coming from Taker and swallowed hard, surprised when the man merely walked away from their door. "I gotta warn her." Whipping his cell phone, Randy quickly sent a text to Emery to get the hell out of the arena before it was too late, his fingers flying over the buttons.

Paul still couldn't believe they had actually been the culprits behind spray painting the UNDERTAKER'S motorcycle.

After reading the text message, Emery felt like strangling Randy and couldn't believe he'd outed them both! It didn't matter. Undertaker would've found out sooner or later and, besides, he deserved it after destroying her favorite t-shirt AND writing on her forehead. He'd manhandled her, bullied her and…Emery gritted her teeth, swinging her laptop bag over her shoulder and left the building, heading to her rental. It was no surprise to find the Neanderthal waiting for her, straddling another bike no less and it was right in front of her vehicle so she couldn't leave. Great. The look on his face and in his eyes frightened her, but she wouldn't show it and folded her arms in front of her chest, not saying a single word.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but your ride… has problems."

All four tires had been slashed, and not by him. Not that Mark had stopped the hooligans who had done it. He hadn't, just watched and offered his opinion. All four, not just the two they had been intending.

"Looks like you need a lift, DC." They needed to have a chat anyway. "Hop on, sweetheart." It wasn't really an offer so much a command.

"How about not and say I did, Neanderthal?" For some strange reason, being called DC unnerved her and lit a fire inside of her…and she didn't even know what it stood for! "I'll find my own way, thanks."

Emery was not stupid by any means and did not trust this man, not after what she'd done to his motorcycle. Hell, knowing him, he'd probably been the one who slashed her tires and had blamed it on someone else. He was out of his mind to think she would accept a ride from him, running her black painted fingernails over her forehead where he'd written that lousy message into her skin. Figuring she'd say that, Mark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dismounting, he walked up to her, took her bag and tossed it behind him. Something expensive sounding made an odd noise from her bag.

"Hope that wasn't important." He said flatly, next picking her up by her side and carried her under his arm towards the bike. "I wasn't really giving you options, sweetheart. You'll ride with me, we'll sort out our issues and hopefully… we'll be the best friends ever afterwards, hmm?"

"What the fuck, Calaway?!" Emery shouted, squirming against him and tried to break free, but it was no use. This man didn't know the meaning of the word 'no'. Trying to get off the bike, he'd made sure she didn't move by mounting her IN FRONT of him on it and scowled darkly. "You just broke my laptop! Let me off here right now!" He'd scooped her bag up to slide it in one of his saddlebags, while holding her against him under the arms. She would more than likely have bruises by the time all was said and done. "You-" Her words were cut off as he took off from the parking lot.

Emery just prayed she survived this hellacious ride, her breathing now erratic along with her heart pounding vigorously against her chest. Hellacious was a great term because he went out of his way to make her scream. Mark expertly weaved in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds, frowning when he realized she wasn't screaming. It wasn't until he finally stopped for a red light that he realized she was pretty clammy looking, but… exhilarated. This broad was crazy! There was no way she enjoyed this, was there? Green light came on and they did it all over again.

"Are you having… fun?"

At first it was scary, but then her adrenaline cranked up and Emery enjoyed the speed, the wind whipping across her face. When he asked her if she was having fun, all she did was smirk up at him and shut her eyes again as he took off down the road at top speeds, pushing his motorcycle to the limits. Emery loved rollercoasters and speed, anything to make her heart leap in her throat. She'd leaned back against Undertaker while he weaved in and out of traffic, knowing it was the only way to ride or else she would've gone flying off the bike. Her broken laptop was temporarily forgotten along with her anger at this man, reaching up to push her glasses up on her nose so they didn't fly off her face.

Well this wasn't exactly what Mark had planned when he made the decision to take DC for a ride. He had planned on scaring her until she either broke down screaming, crying for him to stop or she passed out from fear and terror. Instead… she was enjoying this. Maybe it reminded her of some video game and she was a secret adrenaline junkie. She was that kind of chick, right? He was pretty sure a lot of her shirts had video game crap on them. What would have under usual circumstances been a 20-minute ride to the hotel, everyone seemed to be staying at, took over an hour and when Mark finally came to a stop in the parking lot, he could see she had relaxed quite a bit against him.

"Wow…" Emery let out a breathless laugh and sat up a little, never experiencing a motorcycle ride quite like THAT one.

Her father owned a motorcycle and had taken her for a ride, on occasion, when she was younger, but he sold it after a horrible accident. She had missed it, the adrenaline rush, but it was NOTHING like she'd just experienced. Looking up at the hotel, the smile deteriorated from her face as Emery felt Taker's big body directly behind her still. He hadn't moved and his arms prevented her from dismounting.

"I really hope you plan on replacing my laptop if you broke it with your temper earlier." She said scathingly, resting her hands on her jeans. "And we will never be friends, bank on that, Neanderthal."

"Well, aren't you a little spitfire…" He rumbled, sounding darkly amused, which he was. "If your laptop is broken, you can bill me. I'm sure you'll go running to McMahon anyway, so tell him to add it to my tab." Mark dismounted and reached for her, pulling her off his motorcycle a little harshly. "I want you to talk to Matthew. I'm not losing at WrestleMania to Batista." This was what all this was about. "Any other time, sure, but not at that show and not to that jackass."

"Are you serious right now?" Emery felt like socking him in his arrogant face, gritting her teeth. He had chased her down, had someone slash her tires, destroyed her favorite t-shirt and printed in black ink on her forehead because of the storyline? "No." At his narrowed green eyes, Emery shook her head defiantly. "The line is set in stone and there's no changing it." She could if she wanted to, but now she wanted to make this bastard's life a living hell. "Sorry you wasted your time. Now give me my bag. And don't worry, I WILL be billing you."

No changing it huh? She was really going to make him do this the hard way? Mark had absolutely no problem going out there on the biggest stage of them all and beating David Batista to a bloody pulp. He had yet to be defeated at WrestleMania and sure as hell wasn't starting now, not with this guy.

"Fine." He took her bag out of the saddlebag and dropped it, hard, at her feet. If that laptop hadn't been broken, it was now. "Have at it, DC."

"You are an asshole."

The laptop wasn't a regular one either. It was the most expensive one out there to date – an Alienware. It was designed for gaming nerds like her and could more than handle any games she downloaded onto it. This one in particular had cost her over $3,000 and she planned on reporting him to Vince, again.

"So what? A line pops up that benefits the rookie, not the vet, and you're going to treat the writers like shit for it? Are you 5?" Snorting, she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, shaking her head sadly. "You're supposed to be the locker room leader, someone people look up to, not a bullying childish asshole, Neanderthal. I've been around this company a long time – probably longer than you realize and I've never seen someone act the way you have simply because they don't like the line they're given. Guess what, sometimes you gotta do shit you don't want to. So maybe you should put the company FIRST instead of your pride for a change, yeah?"

Who in the hell did this bitch think she was? Put the company first? Mark had, as a general rule, always put the company first. Over his family. Over his career. Come on, the breaking character crap? In sweats? That was him taking one for the team. Losing to some grade A assholes to put them over, or sell seats? He had been here for years, helping Vince keep things floating and hadn't even bothered asking for more, well-deserved, shots at the main title! The only thing he did care about, would fight over, was WrestleMania so… yes, he would act like a 5-year-old and Emery had just made herself an enemy.

When he didn't say a word to her, Emery took that as the end of the conversation and walked into the hotel, the anger radiating off her small body. She didn't care if what she said was out of line to the Undertaker, he was a bullying asshole and needed to be knocked down a peg or three. Once she arrived in her hotel room, Emery immediately unzipped her laptop bag and pulled the remains of her Alienware out, growling loudly.

That bastard really broke it!

Sky blue eyes iced over as she surveyed the damage, wondering if there was a way to salvage any parts and decided to take the hard drive out. She could plug it into her new one, which would be overnighted as soon as she made the phone call to Dell. Then Emery made a call to Randy, waiting for him to answer and informed him something happened to her laptop, so she wouldn't be able to make their WOW meeting. When he asked what it was, she told him not to worry about it and hung up, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Mark had absolutely zero fucks to give about her personal property. She had his classic motorcycle vandalized; getting that taken care of and the paint and finish redone hadn't come cheap. For some little mouse, who had apparently been lurking in the shadows all these years, she sure was a mouthy, arrogant little bitch. Too bad about her being a dyke though, he thought broodingly, as he poured himself a drink. Standing at the bar in his hotel room fresh out of the shower and as naked as the day he had been born. He bet she was like every other little geek out there, down for hot, crazy sex. And he wasn't above making someone emotionally attached and vulnerable to him to get his way.