Chapter 22

"Okay, I can change this and make this happen…" Emery muttered to herself, chewing on the end cap of her pen while making notes and crossing stuff out on the printed scripts.

She was out of her gown, back in glasses and a t-shirt, no bra, and panties, sitting Indian style on the bed. Her hair was still in the curls framing her face haphazard, but all the bobby pins had come out. There was no time for a shower right now, not when she had to completely change the script for Smackdown!. Groaning when a knock sounded at her door, Emery hoped that was Cheryl and swallowed hard at the sight of Mark staring back at her.

Didn't she tell him she was busy tonight?

"So… unless Cheryl has you doing all the work for her, I don't think you two will be working together tonight."

Mark pushed past her and stepped into the room, taking in everything sprawled on the bed. She really was working. He headed for the scripts, somewhat amused when Emery darted around him and began gathering it all up before he could see.

"Isn't that your boss's job? Or is she having you cover her ass while Orton taps it?"

"I-I don't know. She's with Randy? I thought it was her at the door, not you." Another lie.

Quickly, she gathered all the paperwork and shut the laptop, not wanting him to see anything. If he saw her handwriting, her cover would be blown since she wasn't supposed to make changes without Cheryl's permission. Cursing when a page fluttered to the floor, Emery felt her heart leap in her throat as Mark looked at it and then handed it over, taking it from him to add to the pile of paperwork.

"I guess we're not working tonight then…" Emery muttered, hating how much harder it was getting to keep her secret from Mark now that they were sleeping together.

"Good." He informed her, taking the pile of papers and carrying them away from her. Ignoring the fact that she was practically dancing after him, Mark smirked, raising them up high above his head. "Should I take a peek, darlin'?" Mark teased, figuring not much would pertain to him since the roster was huge and Cheryl sticking this workload on Emery was ridiculous. "Come on, Emery, you've been… different tonight. What's your damage?" He carelessly dropped the papers on the dresser top and turned to face her, reaching out to finger a curl.

Her damage was the prick standing in front of her, who thought jumping script and ruining her idea was the smart thing to do. Saying that aloud would've gotten her head removed from her shoulders, however. Another lie had to be told to cover this one up and it grated on her nerves with how much lying she had to do lately. Ever since getting involved with Mark, it was lie after lie coming out of her mouth whenever work came up.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I just…David scared me tonight," That was partially true. "And I just wanted to get out of there. Cheryl was supposed to come do the scripts with me, but apparently that's not happening since she's with Randy. It's fine. I'll just do them tomorrow." The smile was back on her face as she stepped up to him, shaking her hair a little as the curls bounced. "I guess I can spend the night with you…if you still want to."

"You guess?" His long, nimble fingers unfastened the buttons of his shirt, making short work of it though he didn't bother removing it. "Thanks, Emery, for making time for me." Apparently she needed to remember who he was and took a step forward, reaching out to cup her by the back of her neck, pulling her into him. "He'll regret touching you." He promised darkly, referencing her comment about Batista. "I'll see to that." Nobody laid a hand on what was his and his face darkened at the thought of that idiot laying hands on his woman.

"Okay."

The intensity in his eyes made her breathless while he held her against him, their noses touching, one leg propped up while she steadied herself on the other, her hands gripping his biceps. She loved his possessiveness over her and moaned as soon as his mouth captured hers, his hand instantly burying in her ebony curls.

"I'll always make time for you, Mark." She mumbled against his lips, curling her arms around his neck and felt him lift her up from the carpeted floor, her legs wrapping around his waist.

He sat down on the bed with her straddling his lap as they continued kissing, touching, feeling, but it wasn't rough like normal. There was a sensual quality to the way Mark kissed her and it made her heart do flip-flops in her chest. If Mark would've known what would be coming in the day ahead, he would have either made love properly to her…. or skull fucked her corpse.

"You'd better." He rumbled against her lips, one hand burying itself gently in her hair, the other holding her steady about her waist. "Was that all tonight, just Batista setting you off?" Mark asked softly, nuzzling her throat, not about to add to her bruises, not tonight.

She probably needed a break from him leaving violent love marks on her.

No it wasn't, but Emery wasn't about to tell him that and gazed deeply into his eyes, caressing his face tenderly with her fingers. "Yeah, I didn't expect him to do that. I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him, but you must've really butchered his pride jumping script and he figured taking it out on the first person he saw was the way to go." She snorted softly, watching the rage build in his eyes again and rained soft kisses all over his face to calm him down. "Mark, I know you…like the rough stuff and I do too, but…can you be a little gentler with me tonight?" Her eyes lowered from his, caressing his exposed shoulders and chest. "Please?"

He had planned on it, but her specifically requesting it made his head cock to the side, studying her thoughtfully. She didn't look too battered and bruised, Mark knew his love making was of the rough kind and most women didn't take it too kindly, or well. Emery had held up, dishing it right back out half the time, but… she looked tired, weary, not physically but mentally.

"Yeah." He said softly, surprising both of them, guiding her gently down onto the mattress. "I can do that, darlin'."

There was a storm on the horizon. Emery could feel it and knew it had to do with David Batista, not sure what would happen after she'd made a fool of him at the after party. That possibility hadn't left her mind, up until Mark began making love to her. Then every other thought flew out the window as she completely focused on him, enjoying this gentler loving side of him. He could be both and still make her feel more ecstasy than anyone else ever had.

"Congratulations." She whispered hours later, yawning loudly and spooned up against him, once again content with sleeping in his arms.

Mark had left Emery in that bed alone, dropping a kiss on her brow before walking out the door. He figured she'd be tired as hell from her lack of sleep and knew she had busy times up ahead. Frowning once outside, Mark looked up at the overcast sky and he felt something almost like a shiver creep down his spine.

Change was in the air.

David was ready for whatever was coming. He owed payback to a son of a bitch who had thought his pride was more important than doing the right thing. Pride and the piece of ass he had been getting on the side from the lead writer's assistant. Contemplating just how the Smackdown! taping would go, David could jump script too.

After staying up all day and night fixing the scripts for Smackdown!, Emery had spent what energy she had left with Mark. Smackdown! was in the same arena as Raw, so there was no travel required over the next day. She slowly opened her eyes and pulled herself out of the bed, smiling at the delicious ache between her thighs. Glancing at the clock, Emery sighed and slid out of bed, needing some coffee before she even thought about showering to get ready for the night.

After inhaling 3 cups, she felt more alive and dressed in another Kingdom Hearts t-shirt and jeans, deciding to leave her hair down. She didn't feel up to doing anything with it besides brushing it out after the shower. After tonight, she had 5 days off and Emery planned on spending them in Sedona, possibly going to visit her parents and wondered if Mark would come with her. They weren't in a relationship, but that didn't mean she couldn't introduce him, right?

It'd be tonight. Matthew had decided. It was perfect. David was pissed at everyone that dared look at him wrong; Taker was walking around with a smirk and world title belt over his shoulder. He knew what had put in a spring in the Deadman's step. He was banging the lead writer… did he know that? It would explain why Emery wasn't losing her mind over her precious script being discarded the way it had. Emery… it would explain everything, including how she had gotten her job back. Matthew knew he wasn't as good at her, but he wasn't bad enough to have warranted that promotion. Her screwing the Undertaker, however, Taker did have some sway and could have easily gotten her job back.

Feeling more confident in herself, Emery wore thin black liner tonight and some gloss, not sure why she did it other than she wanted to look…different. Finding an empty room, she set up shop and got to work, receiving a text from Mark asking if she made it to the arena. He had countless meetings and appearances that morning due to being the world champion. She texted him back, letting him know she was at the arena and promised to see him later that night, adding not to hurt Batista too badly. His response of 'no promises Queenie' made her giggle as she set her phone aside and began her work.

When David arrived at the arena a short while later, he found a video with a big red bow tied to it and a note that said WATCH ME in bold black lettering.

David fingered the video, eyeballing the red bow and wondered just what the hell this was. He slipped it into his bag, contemplating who and what. Curiosity got the best of him and he headed for the production truck, figuring if it was anything amusing. He could at least have copies made of it. If it wasn't anything worth bothering with, it could be destroyed.

Matthew nearly peed himself with joy when he spotted David heading towards the trucks, knowing exactly where he was going to go. This was perfect! Batista was a spiteful bastard and a devious one at that, this could go way better than he had planned.

"Hey Batista, what can I do for you?"

"Play this for me."

"Okay…"

The footage of the video played, both David and the production guy blinking at what they were watching.

"Is that-" His eyes crossed when David pressed a finger to his mouth, shutting him up.

Then he whipped out a crisp $100 bill and slid it into the man's front shirt pocket, patting it none too gently. "During my segment tonight with Taker, play this. Only when I order you too. Keep this between us and when you're done, make sure the tape is destroyed." He walked out with an extra kick in his step, whistling and rubbed his hands together.

Emery would regret blowing him off at the WrestleMania afterparty, possibly with her life.

"Congrats Taker!"

"You script jumpin' sumbitch!"

"Do you have any idea how fined you are?"

"Bill me."

Mark laughed as he strolled down the hallway, bag over one shoulder, HIS gold over his shoulder, emerald green orbs dancing behind the black shades he wore. He disappeared into the dressing room marked especially for him and began chuckling wickedly. Tonight was going to be a celebration, he decided. He'd take Emery out, properly, and they'd suitably celebrate his win.

Knocking on Vince's door, Emery had caught Mark's eye on her way to the boss's office, sending him a wink before stepping inside, closing the door behind her. "Okay boss, here is the change for tonight's script. I hope it's satisfactory."

Vince was still irate at Taker, but after thinking it over he realized Emery's idea had been completely stupid. Why would they want to end the Streak? He understood where she was coming from, but it was ultimately his decision to push the line through and he was wrong for doing it. That was why Taker wasn't getting a fine the size of Guatemala sent to him.

"Let me see it." He slipped his glasses on and began reading through it, nodding in approval. "Short, sweet and to the point. I like it. I'll make copies and have my assistant hand it out to everyone."

"Thank you, sir." She left the office and headed back to her own, feeling a chill in the air for some reason wash over her. What the hell was going on?

Mark reviewed the night's events before dressing, taking his own sweet time. That feeling was back, that feeling of change and apprehension. Now Mark was not a superstitious man, but this just wasn't something he could shake. He attributed it to the fact he was probably going to wind up jumped or something, David had been pissed. Screw him! He glanced at the clock, knowing they'd have him out there soon enough.

However, David may have lost WrestleMania, but he had definitely won the war and it hadn't even started yet. He was ready to go, having been eagerly anticipating this. That bitch was going down and it would serve her right.

When the bells tolled, Matthew let out a little excited squeal, his eyes lighting up. It was time!

He didn't get to talk; he rarely did anymore unless it was for a promo of him doing something evil, but his eyes usually said it all. Told the entire story and, when they narrowed in on Batista, coming out all pumped up and pissed off, they spoke volumes. He wanted to rip the other man's head off.

Emery turned the monitor on, enjoying watching Mark slowly make his way down to the ring with the world title strapped around his waist. He looked delicious in the black leather duster and hat…even his makeup was on point. How the hell did a man in black eyeliner made her panties drench? Emery would never, ever understand her taste in men and chuckled to herself, waiting for David to make his entrance. The script called for Mark not to say a word and he'd done it, thankfully. No more script jumping please, she thought, scratching her forehead while watching the scene unfold. When David took the microphone, Emery felt her eyes widen at the words that came out of his mouth.

He had jumped script!

David was doing more than breaking script; he was about to shatter everything completely. This would teach everyone not to screw around, to play things straight. When a person broke script and screwed over others… things got personal.

"It makes sense, Taker." He began, pacing back and forth in front of the stoic Deadman, who was staring at him out of narrowed eyes. "I couldn't figure out why you got off so easy. Why you were able to get away with it this past Sunday, but now I do. Now, I get it…" He pointed a finger up at the titan tron. "You've been… resting in peace, so to speak, with very important people, Taker."

Matthew had a joygasm when that video played.

He had played David just like a fiddle.

Emery went stark white at what came over the screen next, covering her mouth with her hand and her sky blues went wide in both shock and fear.