A special thanks to Morrowsong and Idcam, not only for the reviews but for the kind encouragement as well.

Not much action in this one, but please bear with me as I get this all worked out. I'm writing and I suppose that's what counts, eh?

The Calaway sisters sat across from their father as he stared at them with a blank expression. Waiting for him to speak was agonizing and even Heather wished that he would simply proceed with the tongue lashing so that it may be brought to a swift end. They were both more perturbed by the tranquil exterior that he displayed, for they knew there was a storm raging underneath.

Mark's piercing emerald eyes cut into them. He had them on the hook and he watched as they squirmed and wiggled. The pressure was almost too much for Heather as she labored not to break into hysterical sobs. His eyes fixed on his youngest. "How'd ya get that bruise, girl?" he questioned.

A horrified expression came to his daughter's countenance and she expelled a noise like a squeak, but it was her sister that soared in to speak, "I did it. She read the map wrong and made us get off on the wrong exit. I got pissed and slapped the shit out of her."

Mark's face twisted into an indignant scowl. "I didn't ask you, Reves Ann," he growled and shifted his eyes to Heather. "Anyway, you're lying." He moved his glare back upon Reves who was staring right back with her unscrupulous veneer. It was a commendable charade, even Mark had to admit, but she was never so quick to own up to any wrongdoing.

Heather made a tiny sound in her throat and Reves deviously pinched her on the back, causing her to bite her lip to keep from yelping. "I'm not," she claimed. Reves was cursing herself silently. She had been too eager to recount an explanation.

Shifting away from her sister's grasp, Heather still did not meet her father's eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, she knew there was no justification other than the truth. "Th-there was a m-man…" she started in a whisper, praying that the damn would not break as she recalled that night.

Mark's eyes blazed like two green flames. "What man? Who is he?" her father demanded of her. Avoiding his face, Heather stared with alarm at his white-knuckled fists.

"I…I d-don't know who he was." She swallowed hard before continuing. Her throat was so dry, it felt as if she was trying to talk with a mouth full of sand, but she went on meekly, "We st-stopped at a rest area. Th-there was a man st-standing outside and he followed me…" Heather trembled at the memory as the fear gripped her.

"What did that fucking bastard do then?" Mark bellowed as he stood and shoved the coffee table across the room with his enormous foot. Both girls jumped at his abrupt, yet slightly predictable outburst.

Heather was silently measuring her response. She knew full well that the inclusion of Kevin Nash or the others was not to be divulged, but even she had the foresight to realize that there was no chance she could have thwarted the man on her own. "I…I screamed and he attacked me. I tr-tried to fight h-him off…" Heather muttered as she slowly offered her trembling hand to her father's view. The nail on her ring finger had been torn off at the quick, a crusted red scab now sitting at the edge. There was a crease on her middle fingernail, suggesting it had been forced back. She hadn't even noticed until they had gotten back on the road that night.

Mark surveyed her damaged fingers, expelling a seething growl. "Where the hell were you, Reves? Didn't I tell you to stay together?" Mark demanded in a rumbling voice.

"I can't look after her every second!" Reves retorted defensively. "I came after I heard her scream," she claimed.

Mark's face became a mangled sneer, but he sat down and leaned back staring at them with an accusatory gaze. "Now, tell me what really happened. The rental car was still at the hotel," Mark said in an eerily placid tone despite his evident fuming.

Both girl's blanched, although Reves attempted to not let her expression falter. Motherfuck. She forgot all about the car, like a dumb twat. He had cornered them. She could certainly try, but his radar was locked on. Well, they were already fucked. Might as well go down swinging. "I left it for you and got another one," Reves declared steadily.

"Bullshit!" Mark snapped. "Who did you ride with?"

"Amy and Matt and Jeff," Heather blurted out the only other names that came to her head and the most obvious. A sensation sunk into her stomach like a lead balloon and she struggled to keep herself from shuddering. She could probably count on one hand all the times she had told a lie before Vince decided to recruit them and all this mess started. Now it seemed her fabrications were becoming more prevalent.

Mark glared in silence. Did these girls really believe he just fell off the turnip truck yesterday? "Alright. Well, let's go ask 'em about it." Mark stood and saunter towards the door.

Reves followed suit feigning a nonchalant attitude. When their father had exited the room and the door fell shut behind him, Heather grabbed her sister's arm. "Rev, he knows we're lying," she blubbered frantically. "We are in so much trouble!"

Reves shook out of her sister's grasp. "Not if you will quit spazzing out and act like a normal human being," she hissed back. "Besides, what can he do, really?" Reves questioned after thinking it over for a moment. She then followed Mark out the door and Heather reluctantly trudged after them.

As one might refer to as a "twist of fate", Amy and the Hardys were nowhere to be found at the moment, it seems that they had not yet arrived. At least that would buy them a little time, Reves thought. If they could get to them before Mark, she could surely convince them to assure Mark that they had been together the entire journey.

"C'mon," Mark commanded. "We're going to see Vince."

The girl's followed after, wordlessly.

Vince stopped mid-conversation when the door burst open and looked up to see one of his favorite superstars entering the room. "Ah, Mark! How are you feeling, buddy?" he asked, genuinely pleased to see him back.

"Save it, Vince. I have to say I'm not too happy," Mark gruffed and Vince could see the irritation that oozed off of him.

Vince nodded at the writers that were currently in the room with him and gestured them to exit. "Now, I know that's not the segment we agreed upon, but the team and I thought this would work much better and it got a very positive reaction," Vince defended himself.

"You said I would have the final say-"

"Over the minor," Vince reminded him firmly. "It didn't make sense to have them involved in two different scenarios."

"Well, I-" Mark was interrupted again by the screech of the door.

"You wanted to see us…" Nash walked in with the rest of his collective trailing behind him. He paused briefly as if he were stunned to see the others in the room and finished with, "Vince?"

Vince cleared his throat and stood, "Yes, I did. And good timing since everyone is here."

Half the people in the room appeared apprehensive, while the other half were either pissed off or oblivious.

"Wait a damn minute, Vince. Before anything else is said, I wanna know what happened to the girl's eye?" Mark ordered.

Hall and Nash exchanged worrisome glances that only the other was able to distinguish behind their cool facades.

"She told you what happened. Why are you still going on about it?" Reves snipped impatiently.

Mark's head whipped around as he glowered at her. "No one asked you, Reves. Did I not make that point earlier? When I want your two cents, I'll ask for it. Til then, just shut your damn mouth, will ya?" he barked at her.

Kevin could feel Scott tense beside him, yet he couldn't dwell on it at length as Kid decided in his own tactless manner, that very moment happened to be an appropriate time for a joke.

"Hey everybody, you know what you say to a woman with two black eyes?" He asked in his peculiar gravelly voice.

The entire room averted their gaze to him in somber astonishment. Their scrutiny caused him to become uneasy and he questioned his choice for a wisecrack. In spite of this, Kid continued to the punchline. "Nothing! You already told her twice," he tittered ignorantly.

In a seething rage, Mark snatched Sean by the front of his shirt. "You think this is funny, boy?"

"I did – I thought – I mean, just the joke…" Sean croaked in a voice that sounded as if Mark had ripped off his balls.

Reacting to the threat against their friend, Hall and Nash each gripped one of Mark's forearms, trying to be as nonconfrontational as possible.

"Come on, Take. You know Kid doesn't mean it," Scott tried to talk him down.

Mark looked at the two men with his deadly glare. "So, it's the numbers game again, eh?" Mark accused.

"Mark, you know it's not like that bro," Kevin asserted. He defended his friend as he had always done, despite the fact that there was a sliver of him that wanted to let Mark have at him. There was another portion of him that wanted to black Kid's eyes himself if he were honest. He looked at the doleful creature projecting an expression of self-pity through her eyes in reaction to Kid's insensitive wisecrack. Kid was rarely malicious in his actions or words. He was mostly just a damn idiot, and that was the truth of it. An idiot whose ass he had to save many a time and would continue to do so, in situations like this – or worse.

"Men, please. Let's not get into a brawl in my office," Vince requested in a cumbersome manner as if he had been listening to children squabble over the same red firetruck all day long.

Mark paused. What was he doing? He was supposed to be the one who kept his composure and kept the peace within the ranks. Remembering his role as the locker room leader, Mark reluctantly loosened his grasp on Sean's shirt, but he did not release him completely and he didn't hesitate to issue a warning to the smaller man. "If I ever hear you making smartass jokes at either of my kids' expense again, I'll black both your eyes and then some," Mark growled menacingly.

"Is that a threat?" Nash demanded with a sharp infliction as he wedged his way between the two men. He couldn't help himself. He immediately swooped into defense mode to rescue his friend, however infuriating he might be at the moment.

"That's a damn promise, and you know it," Mark stated matter of fact.

The two men were now standing toe to toe as if they were sizing each other up inside the ring.

Reves looked on in a serendipitous manner. Let them go at each other's throats. She was fine with it and she was fine with the heat on Waltman if it took the heat off the two girls – at least for the time being.

Nash back down after he glanced in the direction of the dark-haired girl, staring at them with alarm. It took an excruciating amount of effort to relent. It wasn't something he was adept at. He was a hot head and stubborn as hell when something got him going. Even so, he didn't want to fight Mark. He had too much damn respect for him, contrary to what others would think. Pride still being a thing for him at that moment, he turned his head to address the young girl, "You'll have to forgive Kid. He never means what he says, he just doesn't think."

Heather barely acknowledged his words as she stood staring at the corner of Mr. McMahon's desk. Her head was bent and she let her hair cascade over her countenance, veiling her mortification.

Mark's gaze lingered on Nash for a couple seconds longer before Vince drew everyone's attention back to himself. "Now, if we can all get on the same page, I'd like to discuss some ideas going forward," Vince stated in a commanding tone.

As Vince rambled on, Kid was thinking about his joke and he actually felt kind of bad. He didn't mean to be an ass. He was just nervous about everything that happened. He didn't want Mark to find out that the sisters had gone with them and flip shit. He said the first thing that he thought would defuse the situation, but his mouth was usually quicker than his brain. The only one as bad at him, if not worse, was Shawn, back in the day.

Once everyone was satisfied -or at least tolerable – of the current plans, they were dismissed and the men dispersed quickly from Mark and his daughters, heading in the opposite direction.

To the sister's fortune, Mark was called away promptly after that to address an issue over a couple of jobbers getting into an argument.

"Let's find Amy and the guys. I'm sure they're here by now," Reves stated, tugging her sister along behind her.

"I implore, what makes you so positive that they will lie for us?" Heather questioned as she dug her feet into the concrete flooring. "It's improper to render them into such a position."

Reves halted, throwing her hands in the air. "Okay. We'll just tell him everything. Who we really rode with, who saved you from that asshole trying to take advantage of you, oh, and that we all slept in the same room, while we're at it." Reves groused.

"Were you not saying earlier that he could do nothing at any rate?" Heather challenged.

"Don't even try that with me. You're quaking in those little Chucks as we speak. I meant what's he going to do to us? Ground us? Maybe he'll take away all your books. That would be a punishment, wouldn't it?" Heather didn't appreciate her sister's cynical demeanor, however, she said nothing, so the blonde went on, "The thing is, if he gets pissed enough, he'll pull the plug on our little opportunity before it's even gotten off the ground."

"Perhaps you should have put more thought into that then," Heather informed her stubbornly as she crossed her arms.

"Well, someone's feeling ballsy. Lest you forget, dear sister, you were there as well, so you're just as guilty. If I'm going down, so are you."

"No thanks to you, affording me no alternative. At least I can take comfort in the fact that a virtual stranger had the sense to act with a speck of human kindness and intervene on my behalf, which is more than I could ever speak for the rest of you," Heather huffed before turning and rushing away from her sister.

Once she had put sufficient distance between them, Heather slowed. She looked down at her shaky hands, unable to decipher the reasoning behind it. She had never spoken of her situation in such a manner. Never before insinuated that her family did not care. Yet, if she were truly honest with herself for once, that is exactly how she felt. They could have done more. They could still do more. Simply asking how she was would be a minimal preliminary measure.

She was further troubled still. Did she truly mean to imply that Kevin Nash was the only one that displayed any concern towards her? Surely, she was mistaken. Concern was one object. Anything beyond that was quite another. She shook her head. She was being quite preposterous. It was more probable she was having a touch of hysteria than any other esteem that she may hope for. She didn't even have the slightest inkling of what that hope may be.

As she made her way back to the dressing room, she caught sight of Sean Waltman meandering in her direction. She halted once she reached the dressing room door and addressed him in her timid polite manner, "Oh, hello Mr. Waltman." She wasn't sure whether she should be sore over his earlier jest, but his expression displayed contrition.

"Is Mark around?" he asked, almost as timid as she. "And you can call me, Kid. Everyone else does."

"Forgive me. I can not bring myself to address, someone who, at the very least is a decade older than myself by such a term. I should believe that would be deemed quite disrespectful. Do you not?" Her face ignited in its usual crimson flames as she listened to her speech. What on Earth was she prattling on about at any rate?

He stared at her with wide-eyed confusion for a moment and shrugged. "Sean is fine. Whatever."

"I do apologize, but my father is currently attending to a matter," Heather dropped her gaze. She sounded like a secretary. Next, she would humiliate herself by inquiring if she could pass along a message.

She need not bother to ask. "Can you just let him know that I am really sorry about the stupid joke I made earlier? I am really sorry that happened to you and I don't really like to see women get hurt. I just got nervous in the moment, because of, you know – but don't tell him about that, of course. Anyway, a lot of times, I blurt shit out before I really think about it. Then I get myself in trouble," he yammered on.

"Th-thank you. It's kind of you to apologize as well as express your concern," Heather squeaked. Her gaze flickered up towards him for a moment, her visage burning brighter.

She's pretty fucking cute, Sean thought to himself as he watched the blush deepen across her pale skin. He never really had a thing for shy nerdy girls, but those glasses were kind of hot and the way she laughed in the diner the other day was adorable. "Well, if you could just tell him that if I don't see him. Thanks." With that, he scurried away before something embarrassing happened, like he popped a woody or some shit.

Perplexed, Heather watched him go. He had gawked at her awkwardly, but to his credit, everyone else did as well. Heather pondered over his words as she replayed their conversation and it led her to wonder whether her father's indignation rose from being genuinely perturbed by her state or the fact that she had once again gotten herself into a precarious dilemma.

Mark was livid. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that someone was lying to him. He didn't appreciate being lied to, and not to mention after all he had done for his colleagues over the years. Amy and those punks, Matt and Jeff had corroborated the girls' story, but he was positive that Reves had gotten in their ears and somehow persuaded them to go along with their scheme. He could tell by the nervous fidget they all had. Everyone thought that was cute and they had gotten one over on him. Well, they'd see about that. He was going to let it die for now. Eventually, he was going to dig up the truth and God help every one of those fuckers who were stupid enough to lie to his face.