Thank you to Idcam for the review.
Once they had left the diner, Heather had wanted to call the hospital and check on their father, but she was convinced to wait a while as it was still quite early.
"Yes, please don't ruin my mood," Reves implored her with eyes cut into narrow slits. As if she were ever in a jolly disposition, to begin with.
"As you wish," Heather relented. He was likely still asleep at any rate.
They arrived at the arena and it was so early that the crew had just recently begun to construct the ring and staging. One of the few people aside from the stage crew that was actually present at such an hour was none other than Vince. The Chairman plastered a peculiar grin on his face when he encountered their group as they headed down one of the many corridors. "Well, what a surprise this is," his gravelly voice conveyed his astonishment. "To what do I owe the honor of being graced with your presence at this hour?" Before anyone could reply, he added, "And you've brought my girls to me? Wonderful." He looked at the sisters with an eager satisfaction that made them almost shudder. Reves especially didn't take to his referring to them as "his girls". She would never belong to him. She didn't care if she signed a fifty-year contract under this creep.
Kevin was alarmed by Vince's statement, however true. That would be the last thing they needed was for word to get back to Mark about his daughters' rendezvous with three Kliq guys. "Vince, it's not like-"
"What happened to her face?" Kevin was interrupted when Vince's attention was drawn to the dark plum-colored bruise marring the petite girl's countenance. He seemingly directed his question right to Nash as if he really were her keeper and the one charged with her welfare.
Mr. McMahon's scrutiny caused Heather to hang her head, due to both the apprehension she continually felt in his presence and the self-consciousness his remark conspired within her.
Everyone exchanged a weary, yet bizarre glance, except Heather, whose head was bent as if the pattern in the floor was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. "I don't know, Vince," Kevin spoke slowly as if he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince his boss or himself. He didn't look in the young girl's direction for fear that her emerald eyes would stare back at him with a hint of betrayal after downplaying her experience like that. He hoped she understood why. If Mark caught wind of any part of this, they were all fucked.
Kevin released an inner sigh when Scott stepped in to address Vince, "Nah, Boss. We just ran into them. They told us Mark is in the hospital. Is he okay?"
"As far as I know," Vince told him. He gave a suspicious gaze towards the three men. "What are you three doing here early then?"
"There was this giant fucking rat in our motel room. Couldn't stay in there anymore," Kevin said, finally finding his voice. He usually had an unmistakable poker face and a talent for bullshitting just about anyone, but running into Vince first thing had caught him off guard. His lack of sleep wasn't doing anything to aid his brain function either.
"It was huge. Like the size of a small dog," Sean interjected as if more of an explanation was needed.
Vince shot them a look of disgust that seemed to reprimand them for wasting his time with such grotesque details of their lodgings. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, drop off your stuff everyone and meet me in my office so we can discuss tonight's card and segments," Vince commanded them before strutting off to look into the million other things he was about to have going on at once.
The five of them stood there gawking at one another before they headed off to find their locker rooms.
"Do you think the other bitches are jealous that we get our own dressing room?" Reves asked her sister as they entered their room, leaving the men for the time being.
"You shouldn't call other women derogatory names," Heather reminded her sister, ignoring the question completely. Even she couldn't deny that she was delighted to have the privilege of a private locker room. She couldn't imagine having to change in the presence of so many other women, especially when some of them were more like grown versions of Brittany and her acolytes.
Reves rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come on. Let's get this over with," she said, dropping her bag on the couch.
They met up again outside of Vince's office. This time the guys were accompanied by Paul Wight, better known as The Big Show, who had recently rejoined the faction a couple of weeks prior. Paul was certainly a sight to behold as he was larger than even Kevin, or their father, or Glen Jacobs. He seemed quite kind despite his frightening stature, but as with the majority of people Heather was too withdrawn to associate with him and she once again became her usual reserved self in his presence.
After briefing them on their segments and tonight's matches, Vince required them to go to the ring. They never remembered having to rehearse so much as if they were in a damn movie. It was Heather's performance that Vince was particularly unhappy with. She repeated her spots again and again like a wind-up toy to the point she broke down into hysterical sobs. She sunk to the floor due to the frustration and exhaustion that overwhelmed her mind and body and left her feeling spent.
"That's enough. She's exhausted," Kevin's voice was hard as steel and he stepped in front of her, not even bothering to ponder his words or his tone.
Vince's expression became enraged, as everyone looked on. A moment later he relented as he eyed the girl weeping on the floor. "Fine. Take a rest," he huffed as if it actually caused him pain to do so.
Everyone sauntered away backstage and as they went, Reves kept her eyes trained on Nash. It would appear that something had changed. Ever since the incident, he seemed overly concerned with her sister, protective almost. He would at times look at her in peculiar ways as well. While he would glower at the rest of them like some pissed off bear with a log wedged up his ass, he had this softer almost warm expression when it came to her. Perhaps he had this sort of knight-in-shining-armor complex going as he was the one who rescued her from that creep.
She could say she hardly gave two fucks about the deeds of other people, but if she truly wanted to, she could read someone like a book. The thing was this was so highly improbable, it seemed to border on hysteria. Reves had seen the types of sleazy skanks that stoked Nash's fire and her prudish, mousy, dork of a sister definitely wasn't it. She shook the notion from her head like old cobwebs. Her thoughts were so utterly ridiculous, she could barely keep herself from laughing out loud as they passed through the gorilla. Nash after her sister? Ha! As if her sister would even have the outward awareness to recognize that someone was interested in her. Maybe if Hell froze over.
Heather stood in front of the full-length mirror. With a frown, she considered the appearance of her new attire that was to indicate her allegiance for the foreseeable future. The letters nWo were scrolled across the chest of her black tee shirt. She was wearing a pair of black TRIPP pants with minimal hardware. Mr. McMahon had insisted that her nearly thread barren and well-loved Converse be replaced with new ones for television. It was a minor compromise in lieu of the revealing skirts he had been insisting that the sisters wear at one point.
With Mr. McMahon's approval, Reves was wearing a pair of microscopic black denim shorts as it were. "Damn. We look hot," Reves tilled as she wedged her way in front of the mirror. A wide grin had replaced her usual sneer.
Heather bit her lip and flushed at her sister's words. "I cannot attest that that is an entirely accurate description," she demurred as she rubbed her arm. The apprehension was making her flesh crawl and she felt goosebumps creeping up on her skin. She didn't believe that she could live up to the essence of this faction. Never mind that this was all a work, but she somehow didn't feel worthy of bearing this logo. She knew that was utterly foolish, yet the slight feeling of nausea still curdled in her stomach as she thought of tonight's angle.
"Whatever. I look hot at least," Reves said dismissively as she tossed her ashen hair to one side and appraised her make-up. Heather gave a furtive glance at her sister. She was beautiful and her confidence unshakable. Heather could only wish to be so self-assured. Reves turned quickly towards her sister, her long tresses whipping around behind her. She snatched up the black zip-up hoodies from the couch that they were to wear. "Come on. The match just started. We have to get to the gorilla." Reves grabbed her sister's wrist and dragged her from the room.
"Where the hell have you been? Vince is livid," Nash informed them in a hushed tone as they approached. He was waiting by the gorilla and Vince had been sure to lay into him when he came by and saw that they were not in position yet, as if he was responsible.
"It's fine. We're going. Tell Vinnie to pull the stick out of his ass, will ya?" Reves countered as both girls threw on the black hoodies.
Nash snorted. "I'll be sure to tell him that." He watched Little One as she fumbled with the zipper, clumsy in her haste. Her sister huffed. Grabbing a hold of it, she yanked it upward and pushed her sister through the curtain.
Stealthily they rushed down near the ring where The Big Show and X-Pac were engaged in a matchup against Booker T and Goldust. Hall had accompanied them to ringside, looking on and taunting his teammates' opponents. As they appeared the crowd gave a pop that seemed to go unnoticed by the men in the ring.
Heather was practically quivering with nervousness, her stomach twisted into tight knots. She wasn't focused on the crowd. She was occupied with singing the lyrics to a Genesis song over and over as she went about her spots in a mechanical fashion. If she didn't see the audience, it was as if they weren't even there. As long as she performed without error, that was all that mattered.
For the past few weeks, they had shown up any and everywhere, running amuck. They had interfered in matches, interviews, and instigated brawls between Superstars and Divas alike. Anyone who knew of the actual incident that had inspired this stroke of "genius" within Vince would agree this was quite appropriate. According to the storyline, no one had any knowledge of who they were or what they were doing there. They were only aware that they were two little shits wreaking havoc and being exceptionally infuriating.
Inside the ring, X-Pac delivered a roundhouse kick to Goldust and went for the pin. Just as the referee was dropping to the mat to count the pinfall, Reves hopped into the ring, sprinting right past them. Her appearance had distracted the referee who had stopped his count at two. By the time he had jumped up on his feet to address the intrusion, she had slid out of the ring. As soon as she had, Heather came from the cross-section, creating an intersecting path. Forgetting Reves, the referee turned on his heels to see Heather rushing across the ring. He scolded her, commanding that she leave the ring. The ebony-haired girl did so and on cue, the blonde came running in again.
This time as she exited, an irate Scott Hall came around the ring chasing after her. She darted swiftly away, eyeing him from the opposite side of the ring with a shit-eating grin. Hall glowered back at her, with his signature toothpick still sticking out from between his gritted teeth. When she blew him a kiss, he struggled for an instant not to break character and his feigned fury grew on the outside. It was all he could do to prevent the massive erection that was threatening to spring to life inside his jeans. The vamp was flashing those "fuck me" eyes at him and she was on the road to earning herself a good thrashing once this was all said and done.
At this point, the action in the ring had all but ceased as every contender was thoroughly bewildered. As Heather vaulted in once again, Big Show and Booker T had stepped into the ring, provoked by all the shenanigans taking place. Big Show grabbed at her, attempting to apprehend the little mite in the middle of the ring. She ducked, scrambling between his massive legs as her partner in crime looked on merrily. Heather wasn't particularly swift, but Show appeared as enough of a bumbling ogre that they sold it fine.
Heather slipped out of the ring on the side that faced the stage, grinning coyly from ear to ear. Promptly turning around, Show released a bellowing roar as he leaned far over the ropes and pawed at her like an enormously outraged lion. She managed a flawless veneer that seemed outwardly unfazed. The blood was pumping through her veins and that must have been the adrenaline rush everyone spoke of, her heartfelt as if it were on the verge of exploding inside her chest. She didn't allow her actions to be given too much thought. She knew when she did, her façade would shatter.
The petite girl backed away from the squared circle tittering and jeering at the giant. Still facing the ring, she began making her way up the ramp. She continued strolling in reverse until being halted against a wall. No. Not a wall. Hit by a sudden realization, the smirk faded from her lips and her mouth hung open as her eyes bulged in terror. She turned ever so cautiously, gazing up at the infuriated visage belonging to none other than the leader of the New World Order, Big Sexy, Kevin Nash. Her chest was tight as she took a couple of steps back, distancing herself from him a little. His piercing eyes bore into her and for a moment she started to panic, having to remind herself that this was all a work.
Meanwhile, Hall was chasing after Reves again. He followed her into the ring and apprehended her by seizing the hood of her jacket. He yanked her backward, trying not to hurt her too much, and she sold it like a champ. She tugged at the zipper on the front of her black jacket, squirming and twisting out of it until she freed herself, and Scott was left with nothing but limp fabric. He stared at it as if she had slipped right out of her skin. He was even more gobsmacked when he averted his eyes to look at her in nWo colors. The crowd popped when they got a gander at her with the logo stretched across her chest. Hall's expression of shock then shifted to a haughty smirk. Heather's jaw dropped, astounded and Nash's brows knitted closer together in anger.
Reves then turned to Goldust and kicked him right in the groin. That is when her new teammates descended on him with their usual numbers game. By this time the referee had called for the bell and declared Booker T and Goldust the winners, not that it made a difference. The notorious stable took care of the two men, beating them down until they were immobile.
Nash and Heather were still standing outside the ring watching with astonishment as the scene unfolded before them. Reves approached the side of the ring where they stood. Bouncing on the ropes, she gestured for the other girl to also remove her jacket. Heather seemed briefly perplexed as she craned her neck towards the giant beside her. He smirked down at her, robbing the breath from her lungs. Her heart palpitated with an unnatural rhythm and for the slightest instant, she forgot where she was and just what she was doing. Coming back to herself, she shrugged and pulled at the zipper with a grin. Shedding the garment she flung it to the ground revealing her allegiance as well.
Nash signaled her that they should join their comrades in the squared circle. To her amazement, the events that transpired seem to be over with the audience. They entered the ring and Kevin threw up the Too Sweet hand sign with everyone following suit, including Reves. Heather then found everyone staring at her. It wasn't supposed to happen in that manner, but she found herself frozen at that moment. Nash gave her a subtle, yet reassuring look and she found the courage to join in on their display of unity. Heather was well aware that this was all a work and perhaps didn't matter to most, but to her, there was a significance to this. Something shifted after that and as senseless as it was in truth, she felt a sense of belonging that she could scarcely recall ever feeling. She was positive the sensation was likely fleeting, but for the moment, she permitted herself to drown in the euphoria of it.
As they left the ring and started up the ramp, Kevin wanted with every ounce of his being to snatch Heather up into a bone-crushing hug. She had been outstanding. She blew him away with her performance. He was doubtful she would pull through after the way Vince pushed her to the point of breaking earlier in the day. Even now he could hardly tear his attention from her. Seeing her in that shirt fatefully increased his attraction to her. It wasn't even so much the logo she wore – although it was a nice touch – as the fact that she was properly clothed inappropriately fitting attire. It was not skin tight, but it was not loose and shapeless either. Reaching the stage, he shifted his thoughts. He couldn't afford to spring an erection at this moment.
When they passed back through the gorilla, Vince was there waiting. He had one of those rare smiles on his face that was so wide it appeared downright creepy. "Those are my girls! I knew you could do it," Vince tilled as he coiled his arms around Heather without warning. Taken back, Heather stood stock still, her arms limp at her sides. Her face flared in mortification, the attention from him undeniably agonizing.
Letting go of her, McMahon attempted the same with Reves who scowled and stepped to the side. This caused Vince's temper to blaze, but he didn't show it. Fine. No big deal. He was going to have her where he needed her eventually. Let her have her little moment of rebellion. Vince McMahon didn't lose and he wasn't about to start now.
Bringing his focus back to the group, he spoke to them after clearing his throat and putting on a serious face, "Great job, everyone. Go get some rest." He then strutted away in his usual manner, much to the sister's alleviation.
Mark sat in his hospital bed and stared daggers at the television. He was running so incredibly hot; it was a wonder his ears were not whistling like a tea kettle. What the hell had he just witnessed? That was not the story he had agreed upon with Vince. Also, what the fuck was with the gigantic bruise sitting right under Heather's eye? It was obvious the cosmetic artist did their best to mask it. Still, it exposed itself underneath all that makeup. Something was afoot here and Mark didn't like it in the least. In fact, it made him livid. He should have known better than to let them go off on their own. Now he was going to have to kick someone's ass and at this point, he wasn't concerned with who that ass belonged to, even if it was Vincent Kennedy McMahon himself.
I hope this was ok. I'm not thrilled with it and I apologize for that. Truthfully, I'm struggling with this. I have been for a long time. I know up until December I had only updated like twice within 6 or 7 months. Still trying to find my groove and aspiration towards this story. Hasn't really been there since July. All the same thanks, at any rate.