It's Not Over
Author's note: It's my story, so I make the rules, LOL! No brand extension, my choice of superstars and all other bets (including pre-existing personal relationships) are off if I deem them to be so! And since I haven't been watching for a while, I will ignore current storylines and events - including the unmasking and shaving of KKane, which I consider to be an act that "reeks of heinousity", to quote the lovely Edge. I will also at random use both wrestlers' real names and "stage" names - mostly where I don't know real names.
I'd been toying with the idea of this fic for a while, wondering if anyone would want to read about a female wrestler as opposed to a Diva. When Vinnie Mac announced the first $250,000 search for a new Diva - another one of those acts reeking of something extremely heinous - I decided it was time! And that dreadful "I'm having Kane's monster love child" storyline they landed Amy Dumas with - another act fairly reeking of heinosity. Events have moved on - in even more insane directions - since then, so it's probably safest to think of this as an AU fic!
And here's to Shania, who says it best - she's not just a pretty face!
Usual disclaimer - own nothing, all the people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!
Chapter 1
Bob Nichols looked up from the show he was planning and scanned the locker room. He had a great match in mind, but one half of it had yet to arrive. Until she did, he couldn't finalise the show. Of all the nights to be late, Dacey had to pick this one, he thought sourly. Then he heard the deep throated rumble of a motorcycle as it roared into the parking lot. It could only be Dacey - no-one else rode like that.
The Harley Sportster skidded to a halt in the parking lot of Bob Nichols' gym and wrestling school. The rider gunned the motor and then shut it down. She swung her leg off the bike, and patted it gently. "Thanks baby" she murmured softly as she headed for the door at a run. She was late - again - and she knew Bob was going to be pissed.
Bob came out of his office as Dacey scooted in through the door, shrugging out of her leather jacket. He shook his head and she shrugged her shoulders and gave him a "couldn't be helped" look. He cut her some slack because she was one of the most talented wrestlers he had currently in the school. But she did try his patience. As the wrestlers assembled he had time to note, with some approval, that Dacey was already in her wrestling gear and had warmed up. She sat down on one of the benches, yanked off her sneakers and started lacing up her boots as he announced tonight's card.
Dacey was quietly praying to the gods of wrestling that she would have a decent match tonight, against someone who would challenge her. It wasn't their fault, she thought, looking around the locker room. She had spent a lot more time training, in a lot more schools, than most of the current wrestlers. Bob had been putting her in matches against the guys, and she hoped that was what would happen tonight.
Her prayers were answered - she had the main spot on the card with a guy named Mike Bison. He wasn't a bad wrestler, despite a crappy name. Her ring name was Luana, which she supposed was equally crappy. She caught Mike's eye, wanting to get together and work through some ideas for their match. There was a paying audience tonight - maybe only fifty people, but still. However Bob wasn't done just yet. He had saved the big surprise til now - there was a scout here from the WWE's development camp, Ohio Valley Wrestling.
That created quite a buzz among the wrestlers. Dacey caught Mike's eye again and they moved off to a corner to talk.
"Man, a scout from OVW! That's got to be a great opportunity, hey Dacey?" Mike said, looking nervous.
"I guess," Dacey replied off-handedly. "I'm more worried about the fifty people here who paid money to see us wrestle. What can we do to impress them?"
"Shouldn't we be worried about impressing the scout?"
"Hell no! Mike, if we give the people in the paying seats a good match, that will impress the scout. So, what do you think we can do?"
They batted some ideas around, and came up with a match format that would allow them both to look good in the ring, create an exciting match and hopefully get a good crowd reaction. It was one of things Dacey had learned at every wrestling school she'd been in - get the crowd and you're halfway there.
@@@
Dacey had been wrestling since high school. Not officially - most schools didn't have a wrestling program for girls. But her father had been a physical instructor with the Army, and he worked out a deal with the coach at her high school. Or rather, her high schools. Dacey was an Army brat, and had been in more schools, in more countries, than she cared to list. She trained with her dad, or with local kids, until she was old enough to fight her way into wrestling schools. Her dad had finished his 20 year hitch by then, and they had returned to Texas, where he'd grown up. The first wrestling school she had gone to was in Dallas and she'd been one of the first female students. Since then, things had gotten a little easier.
She had been smart enough to work out that she needed a profession that would provide her with an income. Wrestling was a dream that was unlikely to ever support her, but she loved it anyway. Along the way, she took her professional trainer qualifications, and then added a teaching credential for good measure.
For the last six years, she'd been working for a guy who was setting up a chain of gyms across the south. She became his point trainer. She would work at the new locations, giving classes and training customers, while at the same time recruiting and training locals to take over. It usually took about six months to get the new trainers to the point where they could manage on their own. Then it was on to the next new gym.
It paid reasonably well, and having grown up as a gypsy, she was used to the lifestyle. She made things more comfortable for herself by buying a Winnebago to live in. That was what had led to the bike. It was a lot easier to drive a bike to the store than the whole damn house. She'd bought a used 1991 Sportster. Of course, she'd bought a Harley. There was no other bike to buy. She had a rack built on the back of the Winnebago to carry it from town to town.
She loved it. It was about the most meaningful relationship she was currently involved in. She seldom stayed in one place long enough to get involved with anyone. Except the wrestlers at whatever school she managed to get into. She loved working with new people, learning from one another, improving her skills.
Her physical condition was excellent, because of her job. Wrestling was her passion. It was sometimes hard to find schools who wanted to teach women to actually wrestle. The current phenomenon known as the Divas infuriated Dacey. Those women, mostly, knew how to wrestle, and yet what they did more was swan around in ridiculous skimpy outfits for the T&A value. Dacey wanted to be known for her wrestling ability, not for her bra size.
Tonight she wore her usual ring attire - long tights and a lycra sports top, with wrestling boots. Her long hair was in a thick braid. She was obviously female, her breasts and her hips confirmed that. She couldn't do much about being wasp waisted - that was her mother's genetic legacy, and her own mesomorph body type. But from her father's family she had inherited height. But she didn't dress to draw attention to her body. The tights and top were chosen because they allowed her to move freely.
She continued the warmup she had started at the gym with her last personal client. She moved through a series of stretches and picked up a pair of dumbells to lift as she waited for her match. She'd done quite a lot of wrestling, but because she moved around a lot hadn't ever had the chance to break into the big independent circuits. But she persisted, because, as her Irish grandmother said, if it was meant to happen it would.
Dacey just wasn't expecting it to happen tonight.
@@@
Lance Storm sat in the small gym, waiting for the next match. Bob Nichols had written to OVW, saying he had a couple of likely candidates that they might be interested in. Dr Tom had reviewed the tapes he had sent, and concurred, sending Lance to check out the wrestlers in person. Lance didn't know which wrestlers that Bob and Tom were impressed with - he needed to give them a fresh perspective, based on this performance. It might not be fair, but it was the way of professional wrestling. They were looking for wrestlers who could capture a crowd's imagination and provoke excitement. And if they couldn't show that at a live show, then they would have to keep trying until they did.
So far, he had seen some average matches. Technically, the wrestlers were good, and he would have expected nothing less from Bob's school. But there hadn't been any real sparks.
The second last match on the card featured two male wrestlers, one of whom was pretty good, even given the fact that he was jobbing to his opponent. He made it look good, selling some lacklustre moves with real heart and working the crowd well. He noted the name. The last match, the highlight match, had the potential to be disastrous. A man wrestling a woman. He had great respect for women who could wrestle, but mostly what he saw on these trips were wannabe Divas.
Mike Bison - an obvious play on Mike Tyson - was up against Luana, the Warrior Queen. Lance watched with interest as Bison, a well built man, moved into the ring with grace. His eyes opened wide as Luana bounded up to the ring and executed a springboard handspring over the top rope as an entrance. The match was excellent. Both wrestlers showed technical skill and professionalism, and they worked well together, each trying to show the other to advantage. They pulled off the match with finesse, and the final result, which had Luana defeating Bison with an incredible German suplex which she turned into a small package, came across with realism. The crowd lapped it up, especially as Luana gave a huge warrior cry deep from her diaphragm on being awarded the win.
As the wrestlers gathered in the locker room, waiting for Bob to bring the OVW scout in, Lance put in a call to Dr Tom.
"Okay, it's Mike Bison and Luana, right? Maybe Hook as well, but the first two are the stars here."
"On the button, Lance. Good match?"
"Awesome. Good technically, great crowd work, good character development. What's the move?"
"Bring them here for a tryout, and we'll see."
@@@
Dacey and Mike took the congratulations offered. They knew they had worked well together. Dacey grabbed a towel from her bag and wiped off her face and shoulders, then sat and waited for Bob and the scout. No matter what happened tonight, she had done a good job in the match and that was really all she cared about. The crowd had enjoyed it, and that's where the real payoff came.
The wrestlers were astonished to discover that the OVW scout was Lance Storm. He'd moved to OVW recently because of health concerns, and it was a bit daunting to think it had been him watching their performances.
He congratulated all of them for their hard work, and took each of them off alone with Bob to give them individual feedback, which was greatly appreciated. For most of them, it was about continuing to refine their skills and learning to work the audience. When it was Mike's turn, he grinned broadly as Lance told him they wanted him to come to Kentucky, and then he waved Dacey over to offer her the same opportunity. Mike and Dacey looked at one another and hugged. They knew their match was good, but it had paid off big time!
OVW would fly them to Kentucky next week for an audition of sorts. During that time, they would be put through their paces and then a decision would be made on whether to offer them a development contract, which could lead to a contract with the "show", the WWE itself.
Dacey couldn't believe it. She took some time off from the gym, and arranged to store her Harley with a friend. She locked the Winnebago and caught a ride to the airport with Mike, and they flew to Louisville to see if they had what it took.
OVW was competitive, and offered more opportunities to work than Bob's school. They trained every day and took part in matches. There were also televised matches each week. Dacey had no illusions - she knew she had ability, but she also knew she had a lot to learn. She was like a sponge, trying to get as much out of the experience as she could. She had been delighted to meet Amy Dumas, and had flat out asked Amy for some tips on her luchadore style. Dacey hadn't been able to get to Mexico, but wanted to try some of the high flying moves.
Lance and Dr Tom had been pleased to see Amy working with Dacey, demonstrating the moves. Dacey concentrated hard and learned some of them pretty quickly. Others she tried and decided they weren't going to work for her.
Mike tried hard too, but found he was a bit outclassed at OVW. It became apparent that while he worked well with Dacey, most of the ideas had come from her. Mike needed more development at Bob's school before OVW was going to be interested. Dacey, however, looked like she had what it took. At the end of the week, Dr Tom offered her a one year development contract, which she accepted with delight.
She flew back to Dallas with Mike, who, far from being despondent, was excited to have been given some good direction on what he needed to develop in order to be considered by OVW again next year. Dacey quit her job with the gym, retrieved her Harley and loaded the Winnebago. After a farewell party at Bob's school, she hit the road. It was around 700 miles, but she took it easy and was there and settled within the week, and eager to start work.