Dedication: see prolouge
Disclaimer : see part 2 and prolouge
Distribution: see part 1
I love my three D's! :)
Respect the Game (4/?)
by lirpa
The phone rang, Mark reached over and picked it up, "What do you want? It's 4:30 in the fucking morning."
"All's going well?"
"Yeah, you fucking bastard. It's going great, soon Hunter will pose no threat at all."
"That's good. Remember who owns that title MArk, if you want to keep it you'll do exactly as I say."
"Yeah, whatever, Vince. I've gotta go, Hunter's waking up."
"Remember, Mark, remember."
"Like I could forget," and he hung up the phone without saying good-bye.
Hunter's sleepy voice intruded on ohis thought, "Who was that?" the question was puntuated with a yawn.
"Vince."
What'd he want?" another yawn.
"To talk about storylines."
"At," Hunter looked over at the lock, "4:35 in the morning?"
"You know Vince, he thinks because he doesn't need sleep no one does."
Hunter issued a sleepy chuckle.
"Go back to sleep."
"'Kay," and with that Hunter fell asleep again. Sleep would not come for MArk though, and he lay awake for a long time with thoughts buzzign around his uhead beofre he finally slept again.
The next day...
"And after you're surgery you're joining the tour?"
"Where else would I go?"
"Home to rest."
"That would be boring."
"Alright I'll take you to my home when you rejoin the tour."
"Won't your wife object?"
"I don't have a wife."
"Remember Sara?"
"We're just good friends."
"Yeah, that's why you hve her name tattooed across your neck. You do that for all your good friends?" Hunter's voice was filled with sarcasm.
"It had to look real."
"What had to look real?"
"The ruse, of course. DDP did his stalker thing, but who was he supposed to stalk? I suppose I could marry Sara, we're only distantly related, but that's too muchlike insect.
"Really, and why exactly why is her name tattooed across your throat?"
"Because she's a good friend and I don't have very many of them. When I came back with it everyone assumed we were married. We're not."
"Like I believe you."
"Believe what you like, it doesn't change the bet in the least; you still have 29 days to spend with mr."
"What about me surgery?"
"You go, rejoin the tour and I'll take you to my house to recuperate. I think you'll enjoy it there, it's very peaceful."
"Peaceful my ass."
"How would you know, you've never been there."
"Let's face it, you're taking me there. Because of that it will never be peaceful."
"Are you saying I ruin the peace, boy?"
"That's exactly what I'm sjaying."
"You'll see."
"I will."
"Now boarding, flight 437 to Atlanta, now boarding, flight 437 to Atlanta..." the automated voice droned on.
"That's my flight," Hunter nodded to the gate awkwardly.
"You wouldn't want to be late, would you, boy?"
"No ... "
"Then you better get going."
"Goodbye ... Mark."
Mark laughed, "Don't worry, boy. It's not like you're never going to see me again. I'll be waiting to take you to my home."
"What if I don't come back?"
"Then I'll find you, tie you up, and carry you back kicking and screaming. And I'm only gettign getting started, trust me, boy, you do not want to leave."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Trust me, boy. It will be nothing like nothing you've ever experienced."
"Will I enjoy it?" Hunter teased.
"No."
Two days later...
"Alright, I'm back, Deadman, now where are you?" Hunter's voice was no longer teasing, it was flat from the pain, his arm encased in a white cloth sling.
He stopped to talk with Shawn as he passed him in the hallway, "How's your back?"
"It's been better."
"Enjoying being part of nWo?"
"Yeah, it's great. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want." Shawn stopped for a moment, "How's your elbow?"
"It'll be 100% in 4 to 6 weeks. Right now it hurts like hell."
Shawn nodded understandingly, "So who were youlooking for?"
"'Taker. He owes me something."
"Still miffed about the King of the Ring loss, are you?"
"You bet, that title should have been mine, would have been mine if not for my elbow."
"I know, next time you'll beat the bastard."
"I know. He got lucky this time. I want to ... remind him of that."
"Yeah, go tell him. His locker-room's just around the corner. It's got a big sign on it, you can't miss it."
"Thanks, Shawn."
"Anytime."
"Tell the others hi ofor me."
"Will do."
"See ya."
"See ya."
Hunter followed Shawn's directions and found the room, with the huge sign on the door it was rather hard to miss. He entered without knocking and found the Undertaker relaxing on a folding chair, almost asleep.
"Honey, I'm home."
Marlk looked up and laughed, "I can see that. Just give me a minute. There's a company plane waiting for us at the airport."
"Why is there a company plan waiting for us at the airport?"
"Because I told Vince to get me one."
"And he just gave you the plane?"
"Vince is scared shitless of me."
"Vince is scared shitless of half the locker-room, what makes you different than the rest of us?"
"I've got he title."
"Fair enough."
"Come on, Hunter, we've got a plane to catch," the Undertker held the door open, "the bike's just around the next left corner."
"Fine."
Mark grabbed his bag with one hand, Hunter with the other and sprinted to the bike.
Laughing Mark got on the bike and threw Hunter the spare helmet. Hunter promptly drew it over his head, unwilling to face more ridicule, and got on behind Mark.
A minute later they were roaring off to the airport and thirty minutes later botht he motorcycle and its passengers were Texas bound.
Hunter quickly dropped off to sleep and missed Mark's cell phone ringing. Mark answered with a sleepy, "Hello?"
"I take it you're in the air."
"Mmmhhhmmmm."
"Keep him away from the WWE."
"You got it, boss."
