Chapter One

The sound of their footfalls echoed throughout the desolate garage.  At regularly spaced intervals stood to support the cement ceiling above their heads, keeping the arena at the ground level from coming crashing down.  Here in there, a variety of sedans and SUVs remained still scattered across the artificial cavern in sporadic places.  The event having ended a couple hours ago, bringing an end to GNE's inaugural High Voltage show, Xavier had wanted to stay for awhile longer rather than leave with the rest of the bustling mass that had filled the arena.  Melissa, very much unsure of being by herself in the unfamiliar scene of GNE, refused to leave his side throughout the night.  Here and there, a clustering of steel and glass automobiles, most likely belonging to the few members of the technical crew who remained still to disassemble the equipment.

Xavier walked leaning to the side slightly under the weight of the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, pulling another piece of a luggage type container behind him with his other arm while Melissa walked at his side empty handed.  Letting the macho part of him rear it's head, he had refused to let her bear any kind of burden.  He preferred that rather he carry the load of his chosen profession.  The silence as they walked through the subterranean jungle of concrete and steel was eerie in its stillness.  The hung over around them as would an oppressive fog.  With a push of a button, Xavier tore apart the calm with a twin set of bleeps as he turned off the BMW's alarm when they reach within feet of it.  Melissa jumped slightly at the shock of sound, moving to hold her hands over her ears but stopped short.  She would rather bare the brunt of the audible blast then appear foolish to her brother.

"God, you know I hate it when you do that," she said as she moved her hand to instinctively aid in the raising of the trunk's opening shell.  Xavier only laughed a slight chuckle in response, stepping forward towards her in front of the trunk.  Melissa turned around and moved to take the bag from his shoulder, but he held it fast and sidestepped around her.  She blinked a couple times, feeling slighted to say the least that he had been refusing any kind of help from her for most of the night.  Instead of making a big fuss over it, she contented herself with staying quiet while watching him dropping the bags into the trunk and closing it shut.

He turned around, taking a wondering look at her before asking, "Something wrong, Mel?"  The brown strands of hair draped down to her shoulders waved with the shaking of her head.  She waved him off with a slight raising of her hand, moving around to the passengers side of the corner and opened to door to let her slide down into the seat.  Xavier still left to stand out there by himself for the few seconds, let out an aggravated sign, pushing the face of his left fist into the trunk to add some pressure.  He had been giving her the silent had he not?  It was not because of anything she had done herself.  It was just his way of swallowing and internalizing his emotions in order to keep them from bursting forth into the world.  He had a temper, he knew that much about himself and it was something he loathed the idea of making the mistake of her seeing.  Only after a few moments of thinking to himself, looking through the rear window at the back of her head silhouetted in the shadows, did he finally move to the driver's side of the car and get in.

Neither of them spoke a word to the either, not knowing how to hammer away at the wall of tension between them.  The only sound of a cough from Xavier as he turned the key in the ignition, roaring the engine to life.  Weaving his way through the emptiness of the garage, Xavier navigated to the thirty-fourth street exit ramp to lead up to the street above.  The banner advertising the free internet at the Burger King across the street caught his eye with its redundancy, a yellow cab speeding past on the otherwise clear modern pathway, allowing him to turn right onto it.

As quiet as the cave beneath the city streets had been, it was something of a different story above ground.  Clusters of people walking along both sides and heading in the same direction towards Seventh Avenue seemed to be in a very jubilant mood.  Even at this time of the night, the NFL's Superbowl having ended some time ago, it was a very strange thing for this many people to be out.  At the corner, the intersection to cross together the two black lines in the city, he saw it flashing upon on of the giant screen hanging onto the Macy's building, "Giant Upset!"

A brief spurt of bleeping following by a flashing of red and blue caused them both to look south down Seventh Avenue to see the white police car travel up north towards Times Square.  The lines people had only increased, a group on a corner across them yelling a, "Eighteen and One."  Damn running down a couple drunk twenty year olds, Xavier did his best to avoid to hitting anyone when he turned southbound along the one way street towards their apartment in Soho..  Vehicular manslaughter would not look good for him.  Even if there was nothing to it and no charges filed, the publicity would be something he wanted to avoid.

"Xavier," said Melissa finally, "I'm sorry you lost your match but there wasn't anything I could do about it.  So you can stop being a dick with me already."  Xavier cringed at the words; the sense that he was hurting her with the silence was not his intention.  It was simply collateral damage in his effort not to show what he was honestly feeling at the time.  Lumps in his throat, taking all of his strength to swallow it back down along with his pride.  As pissed off as he was about losing so cheaply, he could not and would not allow her to feel like he was blaming her for it.  He had asked her to come out there with him, not the other way around.

"I know, Mel," he managed to finally choke out, "And I'm not blaming you for anything.  I hate losing, especially to someone like Armani.  This is just how I deal with the shit.  So don't go thinking it 'cause anything you did 'cause it's not.  I just like kicking myself in the ass without saying anything."  Melissa had not even bothered glancing over at him.  Her right elbow propped on top of the vinyl of the door's interior, the palm of her hand wrapping around the side head.  Her thin, nimble interlaced through the strands of her hair as she looked outside and watched as the groups of drunken fans marching north grew thinner.  The slit of her mouth pursed open, her lips barely moving, mumbling as she spoke, "Whatever.  This me here.  Not some dickhead fan talking trash just like everyone else does about us.  We're supposed to be in this together remember?  You're not supposed to shut me out like you do everyone else."

Xavier had to do something to change the course of her thoughts.  Allowing her to continue on this downward spiral would not bode well for his sanity until she eventually got over it.  He reached out over the center console to her left hand lying calmly on her thigh, taking it and enveloping it in his.  She offered a token resistance, symbolically showing how pissed off and angry she was about how he was treating her, but it was only for show.  Their fingers wove and meshed together, Xavier keeping his left on the wheel and never taking his eyes from the road ahead.  “I’m sorry, Mel,” he said sincerely, “I know we’re in this together and I’m going to treat like it.  Just tell me one thing.  How did it feel to kick that son of a bitch in the balls?”

Melissa laughed and turned away from the window to look at him.  It was music to his ears, the sound he enjoyed the most combined with the fact that it meant she was starting to lighten up and not be so angry with him.  “It felt pretty good actually,” she said with a completely different tone then she had before.  Her voice now was filled with a life, which thrilled him and made it all feel worthwhile.  Her eyes drifted down his chest to the rest of his body.  He could feel the sense of heat as well as the smile cracking across her face.  With a slight giggling, she continued, “You’re still not getting any tonight.  Besides, after getting hit down there from Armani, I doubt you’d be that good.”  “Fucking bitch,” said Xavier, unable to contain the sense of laughter from his voice and cause her to find the situation all the more amusing.

Chapter Two

"Will that be it, Mr. Michaels?," asked the aging man from behind the the glass counter.  Xavier took a moment to examine the other pieces in the immediate area before fixing his gaze upon the silvery eyes set deep into the balding head.  A combed and heavily groomed ring of an almost bleached white wrapped around the sides of his head to join in the back.  The cheeks had something of a Santa Clause jolliness to them.  In his younger days, he most likely had a very cherubic aura about him.  Over the years however, the wrinkles etching themselves across the surface of the skin sought to destroy that physical aspect of him.  It seemed cheap to wrap the man's life up in a shrinking package as he had, but that was the impression he had gotten in the quick appraisal.  The jeweler's better days were clearly behind him.

Xavier nodded his head in ascension. That would indeed be it.  The necklace he had picked would was going to cost him a damn fortune, the emerald worth more then the gold it was set in, but it was worth the price.  The man smiled politely and took away the navy velvet box containing the precious wares along with the plastic card bearing the head of a Roman centurion upon its surface that Xavier slide across the glass case.  Seeing him walk away to a distant corner, Xavier let out a heavy sigh.  So much money for such a small thing.  Valentine's Day was quickly approaching and considering that his stonewalling of her had hurt Melissa, he was going to have to pull out something amazing.  His eyes scanned over the gleaming pieces of near priceless metals and gems molded together to form pieces of sparkling brilliance.  So many other choices, but he felt he had made the right one.

At the far end at the entrance into the store, he looked outside the one of the wall-sized windows that flanked the door.  Day was finally starting to break, the sun beginning it's high ascent into the heavens only to be blocked out by the heavy clouds over head.  Droves of people walked just beyond the limits of the store, mostly hurrying off south to the high offices of the city's financial district.  Some of them were so over prepared, even carrying umbrella's of varying sizes with them as if expecting the clouds to rain down a deluge upon them and screw up the four hundred dollar hair cuts.

Coming down to the store first thing in the morning and walking in to time it perfectly as not to wait outside before the door was unlocked at eight o'clock, he had thought it to be a smart move.  After getting his card back and taking the pricey present into his arms, he was going to have to fight against most of the pedestrian traffic to get back to the apartment.  He only hoped and prayed that Melissa would still be asleep.  It had been the whole point of leaving so early, to keep her from knowing he was going out somewhere and being tight lipped about where it was.  She would know something was up.  And he still had to make another stop to pick up some "scouting material."  He should've known better and that it was not a good idea to attempt walking against Manhattan rush hour traffic.

As bleak and dreary as things appeared to be outside, he did have reason to hope.  Yes, he had lost his first match in a year and a half to Armani Stylez or Styles or whatever the fuck he called himself now, but Soren had fulfilled his promise to make it up to him.  Xavier lost because of a cheap shot that a referee blinder then Stevie Wonder missed, but he was now getting a shot at the Neo title.  At first, after checking to see the card on GNE's site in the morning, the thought of holding a midlevel championship left something of a bad taste in his mouth.  He had gotten used to being a former champion, the King of the Mountain, and now he was barely struggling to survive.  However, beggars could not be choosers.  If he was going to have to scratch and claw his way back up to where he used to be, then so be it.  That would shut out all the doubters that his career was indeed over.

He had no idea who this Carla Viscous chick was.  Nice sounding name though.  He wondered if a network had approached her with using the name for a cartoon bear that would raid camp sites and run off with stolen picnic baskets with armed park rangers in toe.  It would have been something like Yogi the Bear after pissed off for having to walked around naked and wear the same hat for years on end.  Kids these days like all kinds of screwed up cartoons, probably the reason why the whole anime stuff from Japan like Naruto got a foothold in the US.

Unusual name not withstanding, he had absolutely no idea what kind of competitor Carla was.  The "match" against Shawn Steele with the Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon ass kicking she had handed him was not much of an example of her abilities.  He was going to have to look elsewhere in order to get an idea of what he was going to be up against.

Xavier heard the shuffling of the man's feet against the carpeted floor, the sounds growing louder in his ear as he approach.  He turned to see his still politely smiling face, cheery as a son of a bitch and sliding the box on in a brown paper bag and the card along the counter.  "Thank you, Mr. Michaels.  I hope she enjoys it," he said in a happy singsong tone.  Xavier half-expecting him to bob his head to the side while he said it but did not.  Taking the bag to cradle in in the crook of his left arm, Xavier slipped the card in his shirt pocket before turning away to go off to his next and last stop of the morning before returning home.  This was one time he was hoping Melissa was not making breakfast for him when he walked in the door.

Chapter Three

A loud snapping sounded from the television's speakers, the audio as well as the visual scene on the screen that was the cause making him cringe.  He imagined that the audio technicians had copied the sound of a tree breaking in two.  A small Asian man was setting about beating the living hell out of a group of bearded thugs.  They looked like they belonged in a Hell's Angels bike parade than a kung fu movie.  A karate chop here, a jumping roundhouse kick to the side of one of the Viking reject's head followed by an elongated yell and tensing of the little guy's muscles.  They did not stand a chance, and if Carla was as good as this guy, neither did he.  Yes, from the looks of it, come this Sunday and GNE's High Voltage, Xavier Michaels was in some deep shit.

When he had gotten home, Melissa was still asleep.  Even with that much luck on his side, he knew time was short and he had to think fast.  The shower adjoined to their bedroom kicked on, rushing water cascading down to crash against the tiled wall.  Biting his lower lip, Xavier's eyes darted back and forth, to and fro against the living room area of the apartment.  Then there it was, the closet in the corner.  His mind a frantic jumble of horse shit, he could not remember what it was that was in there, but it was going to have to do before she went off to class.  That was where it then presently sat, stashed high on the top shelf over the hanging rack of jackets.

That was some minutes ago by now.  The running water had ended and Xavier now sat watching one of the "scouting" videos he had picked up on the way back from the jewelry store.  It was not looking good for him, forcing him to try to come up with some kind of Plan B rather than take on Carla head on.

The door from the bedroom swung open suddenly, the suddenness of it causing Xavier to flinch in fear.  Did he hide it safe enough?  And he felt like he had a look on his face that made him look guiltier than O.J. Simpson.  Melissa walked through the doorway, leaving it open behind her and quietly stepped behind Xavier.  She bent down to wrap her arms over his shoulders, crossing her wrists at his chest.  Unsure of what was going on with her, he decided it better to simply not make any sudden movements.  Play dead, and pray she will not go in for the killing blow.  The feeling over her soft hair rubbing against his cheek felt somewhat good and soothing, almost taking his mind of the screen and what he was believing awaiting him against Carla Viscous.  The kiss of her lips on his cheeks was what really surprised him however.

"What was that for," queried Xavier wearily.  "Just my way of saying sorry for being such a moody bitch last night," she said, "What you watching?"  Xavier coughed, still surprised at her sudden change from last night, "Um, watching a movie trying to get some tips on how to with this Neo title match against that Carla chick.  You see this shit?  Right there!," exclaimed Xavier moving his hands quickly around with one over the other, "That motherfucker flipped and shit.  She's going to pull some straight Matrix shit on me unless I get her off her game and come out with something she doesn't expect."  "You'll do fine, trust me.  I'm going to get more involved then when I was in that match with Armani.  I bet she even has a set for me to kick too," said Melissa, giving him another kiss on the cheek before standing straight up again.

Xavier turned to watch as she rounded around the back of the couch and bending down to dig in search of something inside her backpack propped up against the wall next to the television.  He had no idea what she was looking for and could care less. His concentration was by far more focused upon the olive green khakis fitted around the small ass of hers.  Some guys like a woman with a fat one, making it easier for them to have something to grab onto.  He preferred them smaller, having less in the way.  Yes, they shared the emotional and psychological love between them, but the sex was possibly the greatest he ever had and did not care about what everyone else thought about them.

Pulling her hair back behind her ears, Melissa stood up holding the backpack by the straps in her left hand.  Gazing out the window, she looked concerned, Xavier straining to back to the movie.  "You know," she said, "I think the weather last night said we're supposed to get rain or something later.  I should bring a jacket."  Xavier's eyes went wide and actually at attention.  Jackets!  Closet!  Necklace!  SHIT!  If she went in there, there was a damn good chance she might see the bag and wonder what it was.

Jumping to his feet, Xavier made a mad dash to the door.  Swinging it open and reached inside to pull out her black leather jacket, slamming shut as she approached but not close enough to see anything inside.  She looked at him strangely, cocking an eyebrow.  "Here you go," he said cheerily and sporting a huge smile.  "Thanks, hon," she answered, taking it and putting it over her shoulders, sliding her arms in the sleeves, "You OK?  Sure Armani didn't hit you in the other head too?"

"I'm fine, Mel," he said before giving her a soft kiss on her lips and leading her towards the door with an hand on her back, "Have a good couple classes today, and when you get back, we'll see about doing something tonight."  "OK," she said looking confused, allowing Xavier to hold open the door for her, "I don't know what's going on with you, but as nice as you're being now, you need to get hit in the nuts more often."  "I think I'll pass," said Xavier with a mighty shake of the head, "but feel free to keep doing what you did last night though.  Have a good day."

Melissa, still looking confused at his change in attitude, walked underneath his outstretched arm as it held open the door.  He waited until she was completely out and away down the steps outside the door before closing it.  Leaning his back against the door now, Xavier waiting and listened, making sure she had not forgotten anything and on her way back.  Privacy and safety from discovery now felt assured, Xavier made to go back to the closet and do a better job of hiding it somewhere she would not be looking for the next week.