CHAPTER 2

Carlton came to slowly. His head felt ten times bigger than it should have, but he was alive and that was a good starting point. He was also laying on his back and had something stuck on his head, restricting his vision.

"What the heck?" He rose to his feet, and grabbed the chair next to him as the world spun. Before he could get his bearings, a woman with a clip board and two burly men entered the room.

"Shawn Spencer." She looked up and gave him a weird look. "Okay, a suit. Interesting choice with the mask. It's going to be hard fighting in slacks, but to each his own I guess."

Carlton looked down, and realized that the smothering sensation had been someone shoving the mask on his head. He was happy to see his attacker hadn't stripped him as well as shoving the ridiculous mask on his face. Wait a minute, did she just call me Spencer? "Woah, wait I−" Before he could finish, she was heading out the door and the men were pushing him through it.

"I hope you're ready, we're running late as it is and Chris can only keep them entertained for so long." She continued to lead the way through the maze that was their backstage, leading them past wrestlers and make up artists.

"Hey, good luck out there man!"

"Cool mask."

He tried to keep track of things but each movement made his head ache and his legs go weak. Damn I've probably got a concussion. "Wait, someone hit me..."

One of the men beside him gave him a concerned look. "You alright dude?"

Carlton couldn't answer before a chorus of mariachi music and fireworks went off in his face. They were at the top of the ramp, facing the audience and the ring where Chris Jericho was already waiting.

"You're on." The woman nodded and the men hauled him out to the announcement of Shawn's wrestling name.

"Let's give it up for El Calcetín Locoooo!"

He reached for the mask to pull it off and stop this stupidness, but his hands were grabbed by the men and they practically dragged him down the walkway to the ring. "Come on, act it up just like we practiced, Shawn."

"Let me go! I'm the Chief of Police!" He kept trying to explain to the men as the commentators in the background were busy chatting about the fight.

"This is an unprecedented match Michael. This is the first time they've allowed a civilian to fight in the ring with one of our wrestlers."

"I just hope he doesn't get killed out there."

"Killed? What?!" Carlton exclaimed as he was finally brought up the steps to the ring and helped through the ropes. "Guys, there's been a huge mistake." The men just gave him a quick, hidden thumbs up as they headed back up the ramp, their cargo delivered.

"A mask and a suit?" He turned to see Chris Jericho already looking him up and down. "You look like a stupid idiot in that thing!"

Carlton tried to reason with him. "Listen... I really shouldn't be in here. I'm not Shawn Spencer. You got the wrong guy!"

Jericho leaned in and whispered, "It's okay, everyone gets the jitters. I'll go easy on you."

"But−"

"What are you tryin' to do? Chicken out on me? You really don't want to do that... I'll put you on my list!" The crowd went wild at the prospect as Jericho pointed a finger at Carlton menacingly, "Now it's just you−" then pointed at himself, "and me hombre."

*Gulp*

The bell went off and the crowd went wild.

Jericho made the first move. He ran at Carlton, poised for a grapple. Carlton dodged the blow but the wrestler grabbed his arm and flung him at the ropes like a ragdoll. He bounced off and ran right into Jericho's waiting arm.

It felt more like a push to the ground, but with Carlton's aching head it made things start to spin again and he hit the mat with a loud "Ooof!" before Jericho dragged him up for another walloping.

In the background, the announcers weren't helping any. Narrating every blow, every kick and hold Carlton was manhandled into.

"OH MY GOD! He's doing the Breakdown!" They announced as he was tripped, slamming face first into the mat.

"No... he can't be!" One of them exclaimed, "He's really gonna do it!"

No! Please don't do it. Carlton silently begged as he felt his legs being lifted.

"YES! He's doing the Wall of Jericho! Oh no! He's going to be feeling that in the morning!"

Carlton could definitely tell the professional wrestler was holding back, but it didn't stop his breath from being taken away as he was basically folded in half and sat on.

"GAAAAAAAA!" His howl of pain was more high pitched than he would have liked, but at that point he didn't care. Forcing your legs down so far they touch your back will do that.

"C'mon Honey Bear! Get up!" Marlowe's encouragement rang through the throng of cheers. " Kick his ass!"

The embarrassment that he was being beaten up in front of all his friends not withstanding, he couldn't face being pummeled to death in front of the love of his life. I'm going to kill you for this Spencer. It somehow had to be all Shawn's fault for getting him in this situation. Somehow.

Jericho quickly stood up and circled him as his legs dropped and he had the blissful experience of laying flat again. "C'mon you wimp. Show me something!"

Come on! You're a veteran cop and a police chief! You've been shot, stabbed, had a broken clavicle... you can do this! Isn't this what you wanted anyway? Now get up and show him! Carlton took a deep breath to clear his head, and stared to rise.

"Who you calling a wimp you over muscled miscreant." Carlton sniped, standing tall and looking down at Jericho. The crowd went absolutely wild. His friends screaming the loudest.

Jericho's eyebrows rose as Carlton charged, hitting him low in his firm midsection. The wrestler wasn't expecting it and he ended up going down hard. Carlton jumped over him as Jericho tried to grab his leg and bring him down too. Jericho may have been muscular, but he wasn't all that fast.

As the wrestler got to his feet, Carlton used all his might to grab his arm and toss him to the corner of the ring. Jericho hit it with a painful sounding *thwap* and he fell straight down to the floor. Carlton ended up taking two steps towards the downed man and a wave of dizziness hit him so hard it brought him to his knees and he put his palm against his head. Don't pass out, don't pass out.

By the time he looked back up, Jericho wasn't on the mat anymore. "Oh crap." Glancing upwards, Carlton saw the other man was on the top rope looking down with an angry glare. Jericho jumped high, heading straight for him when Carlton had the presence of mind to roll out of the way.

The police chief made it, just barely, and he felt the whole mat shake with Jericho's hard landing. Carlton expected another blow to come, but it didn't. Chris Jericho lay still on the mat, seemingly out for the count. He staggered forward and slumped over the prone wrestler.

The ref was there in less than a second. "One! Two!"

Before three, Carlton felt his leg being pulled and he was hauled off of Jericho.

"Aw come on!" He complained and a blurry figure with long brown hair dropped his foot and rushed over to Jericho. As his vision cleared he saw the brunette was a very familiar statuesque woman.

"This can't be happening! Stephanie McMahon just pulled El Calcetín off Jericho! She's coming to his aid!" The commentator shouted wildly.

Stephanie McMahon, the heir to the wrestling throne and real life wife of wrestler Triple H. "Ho-ly-crap."

"Ooooo… she looks angry Mike!"

The cheering reached new heights and he could barely make out someone calling his name repeatedly. "Marlowe?" He looked around but being in the center ring made him discombobulated and he couldn't tell where their seats had been.

Apparently Stephanie already had a mic on, because her taunting voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "You may have broken Jericho, but I doubt a skinny man like you can take me on."

Carlton looked up with wide eyes and got to his knees, grabbing the ropes for support. "I'm not," with one last grunt of effort he pulled himself to his feet, "hitting a woman." Least of all one married to a man as big as a Mac truck.

"Oh, you won't hit a woman, huh?" She spun in a circle, playing up the crowd. "Well, I sure as hell am gonna hit you! Let's go bean pole!" Quick as a whip she reached out and grabbed his arm, swinging him to the ropes. He knew what was coming, so he caught himself before he could make the return trip.

"Geez lady!" He hung on for dear life as she came at him from the other side of the ring.

"HEY!" Stephanie stopped short and twirled around to see none other than Marlowe standing in the ring and glaring angrily at her. "Get away from him, you bitch!"

Stephanie looked taken aback. "Wait, this isn't in the script."

Carlton gawked at her disbelievingly. "And everything else was?"

Marlowe squared off with Stephanie, who seemed unsure as to what is going on. However, the cameras were still rolling and it was a live show so she seemed to be playing along. His wife rushed the wrestler and gave her a good jab in the ribs before Marlowe's hair was grabbed and she was slammed to the mat.

By now, the commentators had just caught up with Marlowe's grand entrance. "It's pandemonium in here tonight ladies and gentlemen! Fans are storming the ring and challenging the wrestlers!"

"This is unbelievable!"

Wait, fans? As in more than one?

Sure enough, he looked down and Henry was on his side of the ring. "Lassiter! Are you alright?"

"I don't think so. What the hell is going on?!"

"Juliet and Gus went to go look for Shawn. We thought he had talked you into this, but Juliet could tell something was wrong." Henry explained before glancing into the ring in time to see Marlowe roll to her feet and wipe a smear of blood away from her lip. "Get her on the ropes Marlowe!"

With a war cry rivaling the ancient Valkyries, she charged and Stephanie dodged only to be caught by her arm as his wife bounced off the ropes and clothes lined her so hard she flipped to her back and did not get up.

Carlton's jaw dropped. "Wow."

Breathing hard, Marlowe bent over, grabbed under Stephanie's leg and pinned her. At first the ref didn't know what to do, until Marlowe's seething glare in his direction sent him into action.

"One! Two! Three!" The crowd chanted along.

The bells sounded as Marlowe stumbled to her feet and had her arm raised in victory. Carlton thought the wide and satisfied smile on her face made it all worth it.

The commentators were absolutely beside themselves. "She won! The fan from the audience beat Stephanie McMahon!"

"Does that mean she gets the title Michael?" The commentators continued arguing as officials and security started to run down to the ring and immediately began checking on both Jericho, who had started to get up already, and Stephanie who was still groaning on the mat.

Meanwhile, Marlowe had slid next to Carlton and was cradling his head in her hands. "My poor Carlton! Are you alright?"

"Baby, you just wrestled Stephanie McMahon for me." Carlton hugged her back, and loving this woman more than he had before. A second later a security guard walked up to them, not looking pleased.

"Mr. Spencer, what just happened? Why did you go off script?"

"For the last time, I'm not Spencer!" Carlton reached up and finally ripped the mask off his head and threw it on the ground.

Jericho, who was being helped to his feet, saw the whole thing. "That isn't Shawn Spencer, what the hell is going on here?" Everyone froze and looked at Carlton as the depth of the disaster that had just happened started to sink in.

Henry shook his head and glared at Carlton, "You really should have done that sooner, Lassiter."

"Shut up Spencer."