"ITVR: Chapter 1"
Introductions.
By Jadedoll, Penumbren, & Raising Kane
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Hunter didn't look up as Ric handed him the glass of red wine. His murmured "Thank you," was born more of long ago taught manners than anything else. Not that Ric didn't deserve his courtesy, Hunter owed the man more than he really felt he could repay; it was that Ric Flair was used to Hunter's distraction. It generally only occurred in the presence of one man. The man currently bouncing around the wrestling ring like a madman. "Camera's on us," Dave Batista said into the rim of his glass from where he leaned in the skybox window. The Big Man wore only a pair of dress trousers, shoes and a towel around his neck. Even in formal clothes Dave looked intimidating, funny that the man was a complete puppy dog backstage. It was the middle of June and a balmy night, thus Dave's state of half undress, as he looked over the arena crowd gathered for tonight's live production of WWE Raw. "Yeah," Hunter agreed, adjusting his own ninety-dollar tie. He found it easy to ignore the screaming fans not ten feet from the skybox, even the busty girls threatening to take their t-shirts off. Hunter almost let an out-of-character grin slip. Vince would probably hire the girl if she did it on camera. "That's me." Standing, Hunter gestured widely and ordered Dave to go down to the ring. Randy was doing a good job of getting his ass handed to him by his opponent and now was the time for the 'Animal' to intervene. Hunter sat back, his eyes never leaving the fair-haired man in the ring. He'd need to tear his eyes away soon. To start doing some mental preparation for their encounter in about...Hunter snatched a look at his watch...five minutes. But he found he really didn't want to look away. His best friend was in the ring. Hunter honestly believed he couldn't look away. **** Working his way towards the ring, Dave fought to hold back the grimace threatening to show through. He hated it every time that Shawn bladed. Knowing that it was coming didn't help matters at all. He knew that his mentor, Hunter, was probably thinking about it right now as well. Taking his position, he waited for his cue to toss Shawn into the ring post. He was thankful when he noted that Shawn hadn't cut that deeply. True, Dave and Shawn weren't best friends, that spot was reserved solely for Hunter, but since Dave had been in Evolution he had spent a lot of time around Shawn. He had a genuine affection for the man and as pretty much anyone who spent any sort of time with Shawn... a slight crush as well. So sue him for not wanting to watch the man bleed. Sunday night's 'Hell in a Cell' match almost guaranteed that one or both men involved would be spilling blood. Dave wasn't scheduled for the PPV, but he did have a Heat match...with Maven. Regardless, he'd stick around until the end of the show to check on both Hunter and Shawn. After causing the disqualification, he waited for Shawn to hit him with SCM and then laid in wait for the chair shots. No two ways about it... chair shots hurt. He'd like to try it himself on anyone that said different. He really wanted to watch Hunter and Shawn slug it out, but he didn't dare because he knew he'd break character. Those two had way too much fun whenever they had to pretend to beat the hell out of each other. After the show went off the air, Dave helped Randy to his feet. Despite the fact that he thought Randy was a spoiled little brat, his mother had managed to drill common courtesy into him despite all his rebellious teen efforts to avoid it. Heading to the back, he slowly rolled his shoulders to try to ease the sting from the hits he'd taken. After his match with Shelton earlier that night and the interference he'd just run, he was ready to relax. Walking slowly among the throng backstage he headed in the direction of the locker room as he tried to decide exactly what that might entail. Whatever it might be, it was not going to include heading directly back to the hotel. Dave was tired of spending most of his nights alone cooped up in some generic hotel room. Maybe it was time for the 'Animal' to seek out a little companionship. Animal... Ha! More like a big ole teddy bear. He managed to be on friendly terms with just about everyone, but it seemed that his size was a bit intimidating for some. Maybe he'd ask some of the guys to see what they were doing tonight. It couldn't hurt... right? **** Chris Jericho winced slightly as he reached into his locker for his car keys. Crossing his left arm across his chest he poked at the impressive bruise just above his right hipbone. A bad lift during his match with A-Train had strained his side, still a little tender although a week had passed since the mishap. Turning around he caught sight of Tyson sitting by his and Jay's locker, brown eyes all guilty and mournful as he watched Jericho. Pulling the strap of his gear bag over his right shoulder, CJ exaggerated a wince, one that was mirrored by the tattooed man. Strolling over Chris stopped right in front of Tyson and pulled on his most impressive 'I'm so pissed you're ears a going to ring for a week' scowl. "Chris I'm soo..." "If you apologise again I'm gonna dye your beard pink in your sleep." It wasn't a threat. Tyson clutched at his beard like it was in immediate danger. "I just..." Ruthlessly Chris cut him off. "Did you design the chair?" Tyson looked at the floor, they'd been through this about twenty times. "No." "Did you push the idea of a brawl on the Highlight set?" "No but..." "Did you come up with the genius idea of a power bomb onto said badly-designed chair on said over-crowded set?" Chris had crossed his arms and was tapping his foot in irritation. "Chris..." But Jericho was at full throttle and very few people had the courage to interrupt the blond on a tirade. "It was my own fucking fault Ty! I was being so clever clever and it bit me on the ass. Besides..." Chris uncrossed his arms, and rested his hands on his hips, "...it's only a bruise. I'll get over it." Waggling a forefinger dangerously close to the beard in question CJ continued. "Now it's your turn, get over it. I'm fine. You..." A jab of the finger, "focus on the weekend. Or I'll leave you with a lot more than a bruise 'kay?" Chris waited to see if his little lecture had finally gotten through. "Sure Chris." Tyson conceded. Turning on his heel, Jericho stalked towards the exit where some of the others were planning to go for a drink. "Now buy me a beer and we'll call it even," he called over his shoulder. "Little Napoleon ain't he?" Stone Cold chuckled to Trish Stratus from a few feet away. The Canadian bombshell shook her own golden locks from her face. "Oh brother, don't even talk to me about that," she moaned putting on her best long-suffering expression. "What he needs is a good, hard...." But Trish's words were lost in the commotion coming from the exit area. Sharing a look they ran to see what was happening. **** Rolling to his feet, his grin finally slipping out, Shawn held out a hand to help Hunter up. He brushed the hair out of Hunter's face as he cast a quick look up and down his friend to make sure that he hadn't actually done him harm. Scratching idly at the drying blood on his forehead, he frowned as he caught sight of the stains on Hunter's shirt. "Sorry, Hunt, but I think I ruined your shirt. I can always get you another one if you want." He laughed as the other man made a face at him and hugged him. Speaking into Hunter's ear, he said, "Good show tonight. I'm going to go get this looked at, before you start nagging me," then waved at Ric and headed backstage, grateful for the security that kept the fans away from him. He loved his fans---they were what kept him coming back---but right now he really couldn't handle them. Tonight had been a blast, and any night he was able to do a spot with Hunter was good, but... His mouth drooped a little as he considered his options for later. He hadn't been involved with anyone for almost a year, and he was damned tired of going back to empty hotel rooms. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost walked right by the trainer's room until a familiar voice caught his attention. "Hey, Heartbreaker---get your ass in here so I don't have to break something else!" Rolling his eyes, a reluctant smile playing at the corners of his lips, he turned and walked into the room, the breath whooshing out of him as he was caught up in a hug that lifted him off the ground. He took a deep gasping breath as his feet hit the floor again, his hand at his throat as he played up the lack of oxygen. A low chuckle was his reward and his smile broke free. "You know this is where I was heading, right, Kev?" Hands on his hips, he mock-glared at the tall blond in front of him. Kevin shrugged. "Except that you were about to walk right by. Sit your ass down and get that looked at. I have to go meet Scotty, so I'll see you later." A final ruffling of his hair and Kevin was gone. Shawn sat down and let himself be fussed over, his mind elsewhere. He wondered what was up between Kev and Scott this time around; they weren't saying yet and it was impossible to tell the difference between their normal goofiness and anything else. He was startled back into reality when he was dismissed with an order to take some aspirin and not run into any more ring posts for at least a couple of days. Walking back into the hall, he turned toward the locker room but hadn't gotten very far when he heard raised voices from the exit area. Frowning, he headed in that direction to see what was going on. **** Scott was walking around backstage reacquainting himself with some of the talent while Kevin laid in wait for Shawn at the trainer's room. Not that he wasn't concerned about Shawn, but the blading incident hadn't been one of Shawn's bloodbaths so if he wanted to play obstinate about medical attention per usual, Scott would leave the browbeating to Kevin. It was so nice being backstage in the WWF...er, E again. He really should remember that for the promos or Vince would have his head. He was in the process of trying to hunt down Hunter to see how he was doing after the "brawl" on-screen when he passed by a small group of younger stars including Maven and Johnny Nitro. "I cannot believe they are sticking me with these backstage segments with Bischoff. Apparently they don't have time for me to have real matches anymore with all of these old geezers around demanding time on the show." Considering that Johnny was looking directly at him when he made the comment, there was no real way for Scott to mistake his meaning. Who the hell did this young pup think he was anyway? Taking a few steps closer to the man in question, Scott looked him up and down in assessment. So far he wasn't impressed... not impressed at all. "You have a problem with me, rookie?" he asked smoothly. He leaned against the wall casually with his arms crossed over his chest, toothpick firmly clenched between his teeth. His relaxed position belied the tension building in him while he waited for a response. "What do you think, Hall?" The sneer in his voice and the way that Johnny rolled his eyes was just a little two much for Scott to let slide. Apparently this rookie needed to learn some manners. Spitting out the toothpick and lunging from the wall with no warning at all, Scott heard a startled squeak from Maven just as his fist connected with Johnny's nose. He could hear Maven shouting behind them even as his momentum carried him and Johnny to the floor. **** Whistling tunelessly, Kevin strode down the hall, looking for Scott. They'd agreed that Kev would check on Shawn, since the idiot usually shrugged off medical attention unless he was dragged in and held down... Kev couldn't help but grin at the memories that phrase brought back. Maybe they could arrange some holding down sometime soon again. As he wandered backstage, he started wondering where the hell Scotty had gone. He'd wanted to get reacquainted with people, but he wasn't in the locker room or by the monitors or... Damn. As he heard shouting, Kevin had a sudden sinking sensation that he knew exactly where Scott was. He jogged toward the commotion, cursing himself for not being as young as he used to be. Not that he was old, dammit, but there'd been a time when he could've run the length of the arena without feeling like he was dying. He skidded to a halt as he reached a small but growing clump of people and groaned as he saw that he was right. Shoving through the people surrounding the two men rolling around on the floor, he stopped and glared, shaking his head. "Scott!" Okay, so that had been a little louder than he'd meant for it to be. Not that it mattered, since Scott was still ignoring him. He heaved a sigh and waded into the thick of it, leaning down to wrap his arms around Scott's waist and pulling him back. He staggered as he stood up; Scott wasn't that much smaller than him. He tightened his grasp as Scott growled, refusing to let go... and trying not to notice the way that Scott's angry writhing body was rubbing against him. "Calm down, Scotty." Shifting his grasp, he turned Scott around to face him and ran a hand across his shoulders. Glancing over Scott's shoulder, he saw a glaring kid... Johnny, his mind supplied with some reluctance... being helped to his feet by Maven. A sigh escaped him at the sight of the rapidly blackening eye that the kid was sporting. He returned his attention to Scott, who seemed to be calmer, and ran a hand through his dark hair. He couldn't care less who was watching them; everyone in the business knew about them, and they'd only been back together for a few weeks. It was still recent enough to feel new again, and he still thanked any deity who'd listen every day for having enough mercy to let Scotty get straightened out this time. "You okay? What the hell happened?" **** Sean and Glen were heading out to find Scott and Kevin when they heard a loud commotion down the hall. Sean was really glad that both men had re-signed recently with the fed. There was never a dull moment when the Clique was together on one show. Wanting to see what the big deal was, Sean tugged Glen along by the hand as he practically bounced down the hall. "C'mon Glen, I have a weird feeling somehow that this involves one of the guys." Sean stopped without warning and burst into laughter as he realized that his intuition was correct. "Scott's taking it to Nitro. I wonder what the hell he did?" Sean mused with a grin on his face. Wincing as Scott's fist connected with Johnny's eye, Sean couldn't help the need to know more. Pulling Glen closer to the growing circle, he watched with amusement. "Want me to bust it up?" Glen asked lazily. He already knew what the answer would likely be, but if Sean wanted him to brave it, he would. "Are you kidding me? What fun would that be?" Sean asked with an unrepentant grin. "Besides, the only one that is going to be able to handle him right now is Kevin. I don't want you ending up with a black eye too." Glen smiled down at his lover and shook his head. Sean was enjoying this way too much. Watching the two men roll around for a minute or so more, Glen finally noticed Kevin working his way through the crowd. The big man broke up the brawl in short order and then Glen was being led around once again by Sean, this time closer to Kevin and Scott. **** Watching from the shadows of a nearby hallway Adam grinned as he watched Kevin haul Scott off of Nitro. No matter what anyone else said, Nitro had gotten exactly what he'd deserved. Adam had watched the entire incident from his little niche and hadn't once given a thought to giving the smaller man a hand. Scott Hall was... well, let's just say it was instinctive that you didn't want to get on his bad side. Adam had simply shaken his head and smiled when the stupid rookie had dared to continue spouting off as soon as the two men had hit the ground. He'd known that Johnny's "broken-down old drunk" comment was going to send Scott into a rage. Hall's temper was legendary and Adam had heard the stories about his latest battle with the bottle. It was bound to be a sore subject with the man. The way Adam looked at it, Scott had his respect for being able to fight the demons and put his life back in order. Now that the action was over Adam tried to decide what he was going to do with the rest of his night. He knew that Jay was most likely getting tired of his nightly treks to the bar to find someone to spend his nights with, but unless a better option presented itself that was most likely his plan for tonight as well. Adam wasn't the type to spend his nights alone despite the quiet, reserved façade he'd adopted with the roster. He rarely dabbled with anyone in the fed because it always caused complications, but lately there had been one or two men that had tempted him to change his mind about that rule. Leaving the shadows and leaning up against the wall where Scott had been leaning earlier, Adam silently watched the byplay between the others in the crowd. **** He'd vaguely heard Kevin's shout but the anger flowing through him blocked any thoughts of letting the kid go. He wanted to make sure beyond a doubt that he'd proven his point to the young upstart, which is why despite the solid feeling of Kevin's arms wrapping around him Scott didn't immediately drop the fight. He knew that Kevin wasn't going to be happy about him getting into a brawl so soon after they'd rejoined the company and he hadn't intended things to go quite so far, but the kid just hadn't known when to shut up. Scott was still sensitive to any mention of his drinking problem. Especially since this last bout had caused him to be separated from Kevin. He'd never be able to make up for the pain and misery he'd caused his lover, but he was determined to do his best and try to put the past behind him in the process. Some rookie who barely had his boots wet couldn't possibly have a clue about the things he'd said or done... the hurt that he'd caused. He'd be damned if someone like that was going to bring up the subject with him and not pay for it. Not wanting to hurt Kevin in his bid to get a hold of Nitro again, Scott finally managed to get himself under control... a bit anyway. Kevin's touch and his quiet sigh helped to calm him more than anything. Lord how he hated when Kevin sighed like that. More often than not it meant that Scott had disappointed him once again. That sound pushed away any thoughts of taking another swing at Nitro and the gentle hand running through his hair triggered a slight bit of shame, a very slight bit, in him over the ruckus he'd caused. Vince was not going to be happy. "You okay? What the hell happened?" Leaning his head against Kevin's shoulder for a moment to gather his thoughts, Scott ignored the fact that they were being watched. Anyone that didn't know about them soon would and Scott wasn't about to hide his relationship with Kevin for the sake of anyone's sensibilities. "Yeah, Kev. I'm fine." There was a hint of self-disgust in Scott's voice, but it was quickly replaced by a hint of the anger he'd felt earlier. "The rookie," Scott said, deliberately not giving him the courtesy of using his name, "didn't think that this 'broken-down old drunk'..." The phrase was accompanied by a glare tossed over his shoulder at the person who had supplied it earlier. "...had what it took to be active in the ring anymore and I just decided to show him how wrong he was. That's all." Brushing off his shirt to rid it of the dirt from the floor in the hallway, Scott turned a grin on his lover. It most likely wasn't the best move he could have made with the mood Kevin appeared to be after his explanation, but the apology his heart was demanding he give the big man wasn't something he was willing to make a public spectacle. It was still an unspoken rule that they didn't air Clique business in front of anyone that wasn't Clique. Occasionally they were a little lax on that rule when it came to their assorted lovers, like Glen, whom he'd spotted standing to the side with Sean, but it was a rarity. For now, Scott would play his cocky self to the extreme and they'd deal with any resulting issues after they were away from prying eyes. Laying a hand in the middle of Kevin's chest, Scott ran it slowly down over his abs before hooking his fingers shallowly in the waistband of Kevin's pants. "So, Kev... did you bully Heartbreaker into seeing the trainer?" he asked, his voice smooth as honey as he tried to adopt a look of innocence. **** Dave felt much better after a hot shower though he hadn't lingered with it. He'd watched the comedic confrontation between Jericho and Tyson as he had pulled on his slacks. Dave had decided early in his career that dressing for success was a good idea and he rarely wore jeans except on his down time at home. Chuckling quietly as Chris poked Tomko into submission, he slipped on a short-sleeved light pink dress shirt and as a concession to the heat discarded any thought of a tie, leaving the top three buttons undone. Tossing his "ring gear" into his bag, he slung the bag over his shoulder and was out the door a few steps behind Chris. He'd heard Chris mentioning getting a drink and wondered if Chris would be the one to answer his question about where everyone was headed. He was about to call out to the blond when he heard shouting from down the hall. Tossing his bag against the wall, he headed in that direction. Surely no one would be stupid enough to mess with his bag and if it was a fight, it was better for everyone if it was broken up quickly. He was just about to push his way through the crowd with the idea of dragging Hall off the newbie, who not surprisingly ran with Randy's smart-mouthed crowd, when he saw Kevin headed through the group with apparently the same intention. Deciding that Kevin would more than likely be more successful at calming down his irate friend, Dave held his position just in case that wasn't the case. He hid his grin behind his hand, trying to look bored, as he watched Maven helping Nitro from the floor, but the light in his eyes gave away his jovial mood. Nice shiner that boy would have. Being close enough to hear Hall's explanation to Nash, Dave turned and scowled at the dumb-ass who had been responsible for the altercation. Nitro wouldn't last long in the business if he didn't learn to keep his mouth shut. Bringing up someone's personal problems backstage was a quick way to earn yourself a bad reputation with the other talent. When that someone was a member of the Clique it could also earn you a world of hurt and humiliation. Johnny had already enjoyed the hurt and Dave was sure the humiliation wouldn't be far behind. If he thought being Bischoff's bitch-boy was bad, he hadn't seen anything yet. Shaking his head over the rookie's huge mistake in judgment, Dave turned to see if he could spot Chris amongst the people gathered in the area. He still intended to ask about a place to grab a drink. At least there had been a little bit of excitement tonight. It might make for interesting conversation if nothing else, unless of course that conversation was within hearing distance of any member of the Clique. There was no way he was going to repeat Scott's reasoning to anyone either, Dave wasn't stupid enough to make the same mistake that Johnny had. **** Groaning a little, Chris straightened up. He was definitely looking forward to a long, hot bath and some solid sleep when he got back to the hotel. Glen had been as gentle as he could be with the choke slam, but the match hadn't been easy regardless, and any pressure on his neck made it ache. Looking down at his bags, he sighed. One thing no one ever mentioned to would-be champions was how damned heavy the strap was, let alone the fact that it had to be packed in its own bag. He could use an extra hand to carry this stuff, but CJ had already taken off. He smiled a little as he saw Tomko still stroking his beard. He wondered about that man, he really did. The sudden outbreak of yelling down the hall caught his attention and he moved quickly, hoping to help stop whatever was going on before it got nasty. He'd been involved in his fair share of backstage brawls and they never seemed to be worth it afterwards. He stopped at the fringes of the crowd when he realised who it was. He'd seen Hall like this before, although at least this time alcohol wasn't part of the motivation. Glancing around, he spotted Nash moving in, looking a little grim. "Hey, Holmes, what's up?" The unexpected arm sliding around his waist distracted him from the goings-on and he turned in surprise. Eddie just grinned at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be at an appearance today." Chris could feel a goofy grin sliding across his face, but Eddie seemed to do that to him. "I was... about six hours ago. Not too many appearances run until eleven p.m." Chris rolled his eyes at the smirk, but couldn't stop smiling. Schedule disruptions due to both of them being champions meant that he hadn't seen Eddie in well over a week. He mentally revised his earlier plan of a hot bath and sleep; the way Eddie was groping his ass told him that his lover had other plans for the evening, and Chris certainly wasn't going to object. He glanced up as people started to walk away, talking in undertones to each other. Apparently he'd missed the fight. Oh well. He spotted Scott in Kevin's arms, talking, and hoped everything was okay. He'd never been great friends with the Outsiders, but he respected both of them, especially Scott, now that he'd managed to get himself straight. After living through Eddie's own personal hell, Chris knew exactly how hard the bottle was both on yourself and on your loved ones. Since it looked like everything was calming down, he gestured to Eddie and they started back toward the locker room, arms still around each other. to be continued... |