ULTIMATUM

SMACKDOWN, FEBRUARY 22ND, 2001

Jeff was in one of his moods. He sat on his bed, doing bicep curls with a set of dumbbells and thought about how depressing everything was. Monday had been so promising, too. After their pre-Raw argument, Matt and Lita had well and truly reconciled. Jeff himself had definitely had what he’d call a moment with Angel in the closet. He and Matt had even been well on the way to beating Haku and Rikishi. And yet, the night, and each moment since then, had crumbled into a cesspool of misery, depression and loneliness. That’s why he was sitting alone, in a single room, no less, trying to work out how it had all gone wrong.

He was pretty sure he could pinpoint the exact moment things had changed. When Matt had fought with the ref about being allowed in the ring for the double team. Jeff didn’t blame Matt – that sort of thing happened a lot, but that was when it had changed.

Jeff actually didn’t remember much of what had happened after that moment, courtesy of Haku’s chokehold (or Tongan Death Grip as it had come to be known). So it had come as quite a surprise for him to wake up on Tuesday morning and find out that Angel’s boyfriend not only existed, but was with her in America. He’d hardly seen her since Raw and, when he had, Tim was always by her side like some faithful Saint Bernard, who didn’t say much but had a constant and irritating presence. He missed Matt and Lita, who had now decided to take a room together but rarely ventured out, but more than this, he missed Angel. It wasn’t just that she was the girl he wanted. She was also his friend – the girl he hung out with, the girl he had fun with, sometimes even the girl he trained with. And in all those facets, Tim had taken her away.

Jeff didn’t even know how long Tim would be staying. Would it be like Angel – he’d just get a glimpse of what the WWF was like, fall in love with it and decide to stay indefinitely? Jeff wouldn’t change Angel’s presence in his life for anything, but Tim’s? Well, that was another story.

* * * *

Angel and Tim walked the halls, hand in hand. They’d just returned relatively unscathed from a strip poker game with the Acolytes and Kat that could only be described as interesting. They hadn’t even wanted Tim to play at first, but then Bradshaw suggested that whenever Tim lost, Angel would have to remove her clothes. The object of strip poker was that every time you lost a round you removed an article of clothing, until you were completely nekkid, as Bradshaw would say. However, the Kat didn’t seem to care whether she lost or not and when Bradshaw started to follow her lead, Faarooq decided to call the game off, or risk losing his appetite for lunch.

"So, what next?" Tim asked.

"Training," Angel replied.

"Again? You trained yesterday."

"And the day before, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. I’m serious about this, Tim."

"I know," Tim sighed. "It just seems an awful lot of effort for very little reward."

"Reward is relative," Angel shrugged, knocking on a door.

Jeff opened it, shirtless, as usual. "Angel," he smiled. "And Tim."

Angel hugged him. "Gee, Jeff. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days."

"That’s ‘cause you haven’t," Jeff replied evenly.

Angel frowned. "Have you been alone again, Jeff? I really think they should put something in your contract that says that shouldn’t be allowed to happen."

Jeff shrugged. "So, what brings you here, anyway? The two of you aren’t sightseeing or whatever?"

"Sightseeing," Tim repeated. "That’s a joke. My girl’s always training."

Jeff smiled, sensing a little tension. "Yeah, she's committed, alright."

"She needs to be committed, more like it," Tim joked.

Angel gave him a little shove. "Actually, that’s the reason I’m here, Jeff. I missed my training session this morning because of an intense game of strip poker, so I was wondering if you’d like to train with me. I booked the ring if you want to, otherwise I’ll have to go find Molly."

"That’s okay," Jeff smiled. "I have a match tonight so I really have to get off my butt anyway."

"Great," Angel grinned. "Okay, Tim. You stay here with Jeff while I go get changed."

Before either of them could protest, she was gone.

"You can come in if you want," Jeff said to Tim. "I just have to get ready myself."

Tim nodded slowly and followed him inside. Still naked from the waist up, Jeff sat on the bed, rolled up his pants and pulled on his knee guards, all the time keeping his eye on Tim. The guy was a walking stereotype of what Australians were supposed to be. Too tall, too blonde, too tanned, too burly. He’d actually fit in pretty well in the backstage area of the WWF. Faded T-shirt, faded jeans, faded sneakers – Jeff was actually surprised he wasn’t wearing flip-flops.

"How do you feel about Angel becoming a wrestler?" Jeff asked as he picked up a boot.

Tim shrugged. "She’s always pulling crazy shit like this. Besides, it doesn’t matter, does it? Wrestling’s all fake anyway, isn’t it?"

Jeff looked up with an interested smile. "Is it?"

"Well, yeah, mate. You blokes don’t really hit each other half the time. It’s just a big show."

Jeff formed his sick little smile. "Yeah, you should meet him if you think it’s fake. A chokeslam by him and you’ll know all about it, believe me."

"Huh?" Tim asked.

"Doesn’t matter. So, you’re okay with Angel getting hurt now and then?"

Tim frowned. "You don’t get hurt, do you? It’s all fake."

Jeff grinned sadistically. "Have you watched her train?"

"Yeah, with the stick guy and the bloke with the doll head."

"And what did you think?"

"Well, it’s like a dance routine, isn’t it? If you know all the steps you don’t fall on your arse."

Jeff shook his head. "I’m glad you weren’t here last week when she got pedigreed and busted her head open."

"What?" Tim cried, suddenly concerned.

Jeff nodded slowly as he picked up his arm guards. "She got knocked out. I had to carry her out of there because no one else was going to help her."

Tim stared at him. He now had two questions he wanted answered. "You mean, you people go out there just to hurt each other?"

Jeff laughed and pulled on his second arm guard. "Now you’re starting to get it."

"That’s kind of…sick."

"Come now, Tim. I’m sure you’ve gotten in fights before. Did you stop punching the guy because you suddenly had an epiphany that what you were doing was sick?"

"No, but it’s different when girls are involved."

Jeff shrugged. "Male, female, no one cares around here. You’re either a friend or an enemy and if you’re an enemy, you get hurt. That’s the way it is."

"So, you’re a friend for my Angel?"

Jeff nodded seriously. "She’s my best friend. We look after each other. I try to keep her from being hurt, but if she does get hurt, I’m there to help her. She does the same for me."

"How many times has she been hurt?"

"Hmm," Jeff murmured thoughtfully. "Let’s see. Ring bell to the head, punch in the face, kick to the head, she got thrown by the neck and then the Pedigree onto the chair. And that’s if you don’t count incidental bumps and bruises from training."

"No shit," Tim mused. "And you say you keep her safe?"

Jeff shrugged. "I do what I can. You get hurt. It happens." He rifled through his clothes and chose a shirt, then pulled it over his head. "The trick is to not ask for trouble and know when to fight back."

"No shit," Tim repeated. "You know, mate, that shirt’s not exactly blokey. No offence."

Jeff’s sick smile returned. "The fans like the way I dress and so d I. But if you want to subscribe to the Stone Cold school of fashion I’m not going to stop you."

"Stone Cold? As in Austin 3:16? He hangs out around here?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "It’s always about Austin."

"You ready, guys?" Angel asked, appearing at the door.

"You bet," Jeff replied, looking her up and down. She was wearing her boots, commando pants and, coincidentally, a Stone Cold shirt.

"Where’d you get the shirt?" Jeff asked.

"Stone Cold gave it to me. You like it?"

"I’d like it better if it was a Hardy Boyz one," Jeff replied. "I’ll have to fix you up with one of those. Anyway, how do you know Stone Cold?"

"He was thanking me for what I did on Smackdown last week. He gave me some beer, too."

"No kidding," Jeff murmured. "He’s never given me beer."

* * * *

"Flying head scissors!" Jeff suggested.

"Dammit!" Angel replied, falling to the ground after Jeff’s powerslam.

"Straight up!" Jeff ordered and she bounced to her feet, then wrapped Jeff in a cradle. Jeff broke it, then ran to the ropes and caught Angel with a takedown.

"Straight up or I’ll make you pay," he called but Angel stayed down as Jeff bounced off the ropes. She moved enough to dive through his legs and grab one in an illegal but effective toehold, which had Jeff eating canvas.

He pulled himself up so that he was sitting. "Cheat."

Angel breathed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. "Nope. Tim was distracting the ref so he didn’t see it."

Jeff laughed. "You are learning the tricks."

Angel grinned. "I learn from the best."

Jeff jumped to his feet and helped her up. "Let’s keep going."

They approached each other, but before locking up, Angel dove through Jeff’s legs and prepped for the rollup. But Jeff was ready for it and leaped into a forward somersault, avoiding her hands. When he turned, Angel grabbed him by the neck.

"Ahh!" she cried, flipping around.

"Twist of Fate," Jeff murmured. "Impressive."

But Angel wasn’t done yet, pinballing herself between the ropes as she waited for him to get up. When he did, she sprang off the rope behind him and used the momentum to slide up his back before catching his head and bringing him down in a Hurricanrana. She jumped off him straight away and squealed excitedly.

"I can’t believe it worked! Tim! I call that one ‘Mark of the Year’. It’s pretty footy, huh?"

Tim nodded. "It’s awesome."

Suddenly, Jeff spun Angel around and sent her into a belly to belly suplex.

"It was very cool," he told her, pulling her legs up off the canvas. "But your opponent doesn’t care." He brought his legs down between hers.

"That would have worked great if I was a guy," Angel murmured, before jumping to her feet and shoving Jeff down. "But I’m not."

She sprang back into the ropes as Jeff got up and did the same. They clashed in the middle and grabbed for each other, causing a double takedown. Angel was first up. She looked back at Jeff, nodded to herself, and climbed the ropes to the top turnbuckle. She turned to face Jeff, psyching herself up.

Jeff moved a little and noticed where she was. "Angel, what are you doing?" he asked. "It’s the other way for a moonsault."

"No," Angel replied, her voice barely a whisper. She had a crazy look in her eyes. "Swanton Bomb." She raised her arms in the air and slowly fell forward.

"No, Angel!" Jeff cried, leaping to his feet. "You’re not turning enough, you’ll…"

He was standing and Angel crashed right into him, despite his efforts to simply catch her. They fell to the canvas, knocking the wind out of both of them.

"You’re crazy!" Jeff cried, his hands still on her shoulders as she lay on top of him. "You’re absolutely nuts!"

Angel laughed breathlessly, raking her fingers down his cheeks. "That was great! Let’s do it again." She leaped to her feet and helped Jeff up.

He shook his head, grinning. "I think I’ll go find Matt. Not that you’re not great, but if Rikishi attempts a Swanton on me tonight I’ll probably die of shock."

"And a crushed ribcage," Angel added. "Thanks for training with me, Jeff." She hugged him tightly.

"No problem, Gel," Jeff breathed. "I’ll see you tonight."

"Yep." Angel stepped over to the ropes. "Look, I’m Kane."

"Angel, no!" Jeff cried as she tried to flip herself over the top rope using only one hand. Luckily, Tim was there to catch her.

"Come on, psycho. Let’s get out of here."

Jeff watched them with a smile on his face. That Angel sure was his kind of girl.

* * * *

"This is where you work?" Tim asked skeptically.

"Yep. It’s not much, but it’s home."

If one chair was a tight fit, two chairs were practically impossible, but somehow both Angel and Tim managed to fit in the small space.

"So, these wrestlers can hire you and you accompany them to the ring?"

"Yep. Here, I’ll show you where Matt wrote who I’m allowed to valet for and who I’m not. Look here, read Edge’s."

Tim frowned. "That’s pretty harsh."

"I know. I don’t always listen, I make my own choices, but generally Matt’s right on the money."

"So, what’s he have to say about me, eh?" called a voice that Angel now knew well.

"Benoit, I’m going to save us both some time and tell you straight out I’m not going to be your valet."

Benoit just stared at her. "You know, little girl, you’re the reason I was destroyed in my match at Raw. You’re the reason I was spitting blood all the next day. Yes, it might surprise you but there is blood flowing through these veins and you’re the reason I lost some of it. You’re also the reason I’ve returned to midcarder status and the intercontinental title hunt."

"Well, that was a lot for me to do in one day, wasn’t it?"

Benoit ignored her comment. "Yes, you weakened me, but if you think you hurt me, you’re wrong. That happened in the match itself because I was weakened."

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Angel offered.

"Don’t flatter yourself," Benoit sneered.

"Benoit, we really don’t need to be having this conversation."

Benoit nodded slowly. "Fine, I’ll change the subject. You have to stop attacking Malenko. He’s beginning to get pissed off and I can no longer offer protection."

Angel was taken aback. "You think you’re protecting me?"

Benoit shook his head. "I know I am."

"Oh, please. As you said a minute ago, don’t flatter yourself."

Benoit scowled at her. "If you underestimate Malenko, you’re making a big mistake. He might seem easy, but believe me when I tell you he’s not. If he was, he wouldn’t be a Radical." He broke into a smug grin.

"Well, thanks for the advice, but I can take care of myself."

"You think so?" Benoit scoffed. "You really think so? Little girl, Malenko has a submission move that could snap your spine if you’re in it for long enough. And when he gets you, there will be no tapping out, there will be no ref to break the hold, there will be no Hardyz, no Lita, no Al Snow, no ‘Lethal Weapon’. It’ll just be your broken body, lying on the ground. Can you live with that? Well, can you?"

Angel glared at him. "Get out of here, Benoit. I’ve had enough of you."

Benoit smirked. "I’m giving you a warning. If you’re smart, you’ll listen."

"She said get out of here," Tim announced, getting to his feet.

Benoit stared, as if it was the first time he’d noticed that Angel wasn’t alone. "And who the hell are you?"

Tim stepped out from behind the table. "I’m her boyfriend." He was several inches taller than Benoit and probably thought he had a chance.

"No, Tim," Angel warned.

"Is that so?" Benoit smirked. "Well, Little Girl’s boyfriend. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"An arsehole who’s giving my girlfriend a hard time?"

Benoit grinned evilly. "Wrong." He chopped Tim across the chest, sending him reeling. Tim ran at him but was stopped by another chop, then a third. Tim didn’t know when to quit and ran at him again. Benoit grabbed him and held him over his head in a vertical suplex, then slammed him down onto the cold, hard floor. Next, he rolled Tim onto his stomach, hooked his arm and applied the crossface. Tim started screaming and so did Angel.

"Help! Matt! Jeff! Help! Get off him, Benoit, get off him!"

Angel heard footsteps and the cavalry arrived. Boom, a boot to Benoit’s side broke the hold and the Hardyz, along with Chris Jericho, pulled Benoit away from Tim.

Jericho trapped Benoit’s arms behind his back and pushed him roughly down the hall. "Ordinarily I’d jump at the chance to give you a beating you’ll never forget but I don’t want any excuses when I destroy you in the ring tonight. Off you go, jackass."

Benoit sneered and thought about attacking Jericho, but Angel still had both Hardyz flanking her so he decided against it. Two he could take, but three was pushing it.

Angel got up from the side of her fallen boyfriend and stepped up to Benoit. Looking him straight in the eyes, she slapped him across the face, then turned to leave. Benoit caught her by the left arm so she spun and slapped him again, then kicked him in the stomach so he’d release her arm.

"Asshole," she spat, then walked back over to Tim.

"See you in the ring, junior," Jericho called mockingly as Benoit took a deep breath and headed towards his locker room.

"We better get this guy to the trainer’s room," Matt was saying as he helped Tim to his feet.

"No, mate, it’s okay, I’m okay," Tim protested. "Aah…" he gasped, grabbing for his back.

"Come on, buddy, the EMTs won’t bite you," Matt told him, before looking over at Angel. "I’ll take him. You stay here and try to get some clients. Jeff, make sure Benoit doesn’t come back."

"Thanks, Matt," Angel called as he walked off with Tim. She shrugged sheepishly and turned to Jeff and Jericho. "Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t showed up."

"I’ll take a guess and say you should have just bitch-slapped him a couple times," Jericho said. "Sister, that was possibly the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t have let you get away with it."

"I’m not afraid of him," Angel shrugged.

"Then you’re crazy." A look of comprehension crossed his face and he turned to Jeff. "This is the girl you were telling me about, isn’t it, junior?"

Jeff nodded. "Chris Jericho, Angel Torres."

Jericho shook Angel’s hand. "Angel," he repeated. "Unfortunate name but I’ll forgive you that. Jeff tells me you wanted to see me about something."

Angel stared at him, confused.

"The list," Jeff prompted.

"Oh yeah," Angel smiled. "I need fifteen people to sign a petition or Vince McMahon won’t let me hang around. Jeff said you’d sign it."

"Well, Jeff’s wrong," Jericho frowned. "What’s wrong with you, Hardy? Y2J doesn’t do favors and he does not sign petitions."

Angel was startled. "If you don’t know how to write, you can always put an X."

Jericho glared at her. "I am Y2J. I am the reigning Intercontinental Champion and you’re wasting my time. I have a title to protect and you, junior, want me to sign some trivial form so you can keep hanging out with your groupies?"

"It’s not like that, Chris," Jeff argued. "She needs to stick around so she can kick some RTC ass."

"Right. I’m sure that’s why you want to keep her here. It’s nothing personal, sister. I just don’t do favors. They’re a great way to get yourself screwed. I’m surprised you don’t know that already, junior. I mean, how can I be sure that she’s not going to be like Chyna – all man muscles and mayhem? Now, I could kick Chyna’s ass just as easily as she could kick mine, but if she hadn’t been around at all, guess who would have been solo Interchrisinental title champion a little over a year ago? That’s right. Y2J. And if I didn’t have to worry about Chyna, do you really think I’d have lost it to Kirk Angel at No Way Out? Of course I wouldn’t have. Y2J has to look after Y2J, just like you two have to look after yourselves. So, I can’t help you, but I do wish you luck. I’ll see you round, Jeff, and you, maybe." He strolled down the hall.

Jeff turned to Angel. "Sorry. I really thought he’d do it."

Angel shrugged. "It’s okay. I only need two. Did you catch up with the Rock?"

Jeff shook his head. "I looked all over but he’s a busy guy. And he’s been kind of psycho lately, since he won a Federation title shot against Kurt Angle at No Way Out."

Angel sighed. "Maybe I should have gotten Chris Benoit to sign it."

"And then he would have torn it up and force-fed you the pieces," Jeff replied. "I’m telling you, as soon as he gets tired of making your life hell, as he will eventually, I’ll be a much happier man."

* * * *

"All better," Tim announced with a brave smile, but it didn’t escape Angel’s attention that he was walking very gingerly. "Deep Heat. Wonder drug of wonder drugs."

Angel stared at him strangely. "Matt told them you weren’t a wrestler so they injected you with a painkiller, didn’t they?" she guessed.

"Yes," Tim admitted. "But I needed it. That bloody bastard went and killed my damn back. What’s his bloody problem?"

Angel shrugged. "I’m pretty sure it’s me. And I keep kicking the crap out of his best mate, so he doesn’t like that, either."

"What is he? Some kind of robot?"

"That’s what they say," Angel replied mysteriously.

"Whoa, there’s like two of you. This so reeks of awesomeness."

Angel looked up and smiled. "Hi Edge."

"Hey there, dudette. Can you say, like ‘good-day’? What is it? ‘Good day, mate’."

"G’day mate," Tim guessed.

"Yeah, that’s it. Awesome!" Edge cried, jumping around. "Say something else."

"Edge, we’d be glad to have a whole conversation with you if you do something for me."

Edge took a step back, hands in the air. "Wait a minute, Angel face. I know I’m photogenic and brutally sexy, but I don’t play that way. I’m not that kind of five time tag team champ."

Angel smiled sarcastically. "No, nothing like that. I just want you to sign a petition to keep me around or I’m going to be kicked out."

Edge thought about it, stroking his chin. "And that Ausserific accent would stay too?"

"I can’t promise that but I’ll say most likely."

Edge broke into his devastating grin. "Okay, dudette. Consider it done-aged."

Angel handed him the paper and he signed it.

"Thanks, Edge."

"No problem. Who’s this guy, anyway?"

"This is my boyfriend, Tim."

"It is?" Edge grinned. "So, you mean that psychtacular dorkchop…?"

"No, he’s not," Angel cut him off.

"Really? Well, in that case, it’s totally awesome to meet you." Edge shook Tim’s hand enthusiastically. "He’s better looking than señor psychopath anyway. Kind of like me or Christian – without the totally superior hair, of course."

"Thanks," Tim muttered uncomfortably.

"No problem," Edge grinned. "So, tell me, Timbo. How do you say ‘she’s total hottie’ in Australian?"

Tim frowned. "Um, she’s a bonzer sheila?"

"Ha!" Edge applauded. "You guys, you totally reek of awesomeness, but I have to go. I’ll talk with you later." He wandered down the hallway muttering ‘she’s a bonzer sheila, g’day mate’ and trying to imitate the accent.

"That’s Edge?" Tim asked.

"Yep, that’s Edge."

"The guy Matt said was a brutal back-stabbing jerk?"

"That’s the one."

"This place sure is weird," Tim murmured.

"Babe, you’re not telling me anything."

* * * *

"Angel, up you get, it’s time for my match."

Angel frowned at Jeff. "Isn’t Lita…?"

"Yeah, I am," Lita replied, stepping out from behind Jeff. "But…"

"But I promised you Jericho would sign and he didn’t," Jeff continued. "It might be your last night tonight, and I want to make sure you see some action."

Angel broke into a smile. "Thanks, Jeff."

Jeff smiled back. "Come on, let’s go."

"Tim, go hang with Matt in the locker room," Angel suggested. "I’ll be back soon."

* * * *

Angel and Lita’s styles as valet were similar but different. While Lita shouted encouragement to Jeff and tried to heckle Rikishi, Angel’s only concern was for her friend.

Jeff had his typical slew of astonishing moves, but he was hopelessly outsized by the 423 pound monster.

Rikishi ended the match by Banzai dropping Jeff from the second rope. Angel heard the impact and cringed, before running over to the corner where Jeff was lying under Rikishi as the ref made the three count. Rikishi turned to her and she stepped away from the ropes so he couldn’t reach her. He then got up and started to walk to the corner as Lita attempted to get in the ring without him seeing her.

Rikishi was partway through the ropes when he paused, turned back and saw Lita. He started back towards her and she rolled quickly from the ring. Rikishi then looked over at Angel and smiled. He stepped over Jeff’s body and put his hands on the ropes, as if going for another Banzai Drop.

"No!" Angel screamed as, in the opposite corner, Lita climbed to the top. Rikishi felt the ropes move under his hands, stepped away from Jeff and viciously pulled the top rope, causing Lita to tumble to the canvas. Angel hadn’t seen it; she was too busy trying to get near Jeff without Rikishi attacking. He finally moved away and Angel climbed up next to Jeff. In the opposite corner, Rikishi backed up his big posterior and stinkfaced Lita. While he was till giving her the treatment, Matt raced down the ramp to his girlfriend’s aid. He punched Rikishi until the big guy vacated the ring, then held Lita as she choked and spluttered and tried to recover her sense of smell. All of this went unnoticed by Angel, who was stroking Jeff’s face and talking to him softly.

"Oh, Jeff, not again. Why does this always happen?"

Pretty soon she was joined by Matt and Lita.

"Jeff, are you okay?" Matt asked.

"Honey, what did he do to you?" Lita added.

Angel barely noticed them. Jeff was hurt again.

* * * *

Another show, another trip to the trainer’s room for Jeff. He was diagnosed with suspected broken ribs and told to go to hospital for X-rays, but he refused.

"No, this might be my best friend’s last night here. I’m not leaving her."

"But you might compound your injuries," the doctor warned.

"Tape them," Jeff ordered.

"But…"

"Tape my damn ribs!"

"It won’t do much good. We don’t know which ones are injured."

"Then take an educated guess."

"Jeff," Angel started. "Maybe you should…"

"Forget it, Angel. I’m staying to support you whether you like it or not."

* * * *

"Angel, come help me hand out buttons."

Angel jumped to her feet. "Sure, Al. Tim…"

"I know, go wait with the Hardy brothers."

Angel kissed him quickly. "Back soon, babe."

She raced after Al, who handed her a sack of buttons. "Did you get all your names?"

Angel shook her head. "One to go."

"Night’s not over yet," Al told her. They reached the backstage area and strolled straight out, where Al started throwing buttons into the crowd.

"Isn’t there a match right now?" Angel asked, squinting at the ring.

"Yeah, it’s just a Euro title match. Test and Regal. Vince wouldn’t give me campaigning time so I thought I’d interrupt the match of his favorite boy."

Angel helped him hand out buttons. "Vote for Al! Al Snow for commissioner! A vote for Al is a vote for Head!"

In the ring, Regal was not impressed by Al’s appearance and, after tying Test up in the ropes and getting admonished by the ref, he strolled over to give Snow a piece of his mind.

"Mr. Snow, what are you doing here? You are besmirching my moment of glory. This is a title match!"

He grabbed Snow by the hair, but Snow swung his bag of buttons around and hit Regal across the face. He then reached into the bag and pulled out Head, before tossing it over to Angel, who held it in the air.

In the ring, Test gave Regal a big boot and covered him to retain his title.

Al stepped over to Angel and they raised Head together.

"Okay," Al smiled. "We’ve finished what we came for."

"You wanted the screwjob?" Angel asked, confused.

"What goes around comes around," Al shrugged. "That British prick took the Euro title from me. And besides, maybe now Test will sign your paper."

They both looked around but Test was already gone.

"Oh well," Angel sighed. "It was worth a thought."

* * * *

Angel spent the rest of the night surrounded by Tim, Lita, Jeff and Matt. A somber group, they accompanied her to Mr. McMahon’s office and sat outside to wait.

Angel knocked slowly.

"Come in, Angel. I’ve been expecting you."

Angel stepped inside and took a seat. She was so close and yet so far away and she didn’t expect him to show her any mercy.

"So, how did it go?" Vince asked, staring at her expectantly.

Angel silently handed him the paper and he read the names aloud. "Lita, Jeff Hardy, Matt Hardy, Al Snow (his voice changed noticeably as he showed his disgust), Steve Blackman, Molly Holly, Crash Holly, Hardcore Holly, Billy Gunn, Stone Cold Steve Austin (another voice change), the Kat, Faarooq, Bradshaw and Edge." He folded the paper and handed it back to Angel. "I see only one problem with this. Only fourteen names. You’re short by one."

"I know," Angel replied quietly.

Vince cocked his head, feigning sympathy. "Well, I’m sorry, I really am, but we had a deal. I hope you enjoyed your time with us."

"Wait!" Angel cried, before she lost her nerve. "I need more time."

"More time?"

"Yes. I want so bad to stay. The fact that I got fourteen superstars to agree on something should prove that to you."

Vince nodded. "Well, that is true, but fair is fair and we had a deal."

"I know, that’s why I don’t expect you to let me through with fourteen names. I just need more time to get the last one."

"How much time would you require?"

"A week."

"A week? That’s a somewhat ambitious request, don’t you think?"

Angel shook her head. "We’re coming up to No Way Out. It’s hard to even find time to talk to people, let alone convince them of the fact that I’m an asset to the company."

"I’ll tell you what," Vince said after a long pause. "I can’t give you a week, but you’re obviously here to negotiate and that’s what I do."

"How long can I have?"

"A show. Sunday night, after Heat but before No Way Out, report to me with that last name. If you can’t get it, you’re gone. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it."

"I’ll take it."

"Great. I’ll see you on Sunday." Angel got up to leave, but Vince continued speaking. "Angel, I’m a fair man, but this is your final chance. If you’re gone, I mean it, you’re gone."

"I know. Thank you, sir." She walked out of the office.

"So?" Lita asked.

"I have until after Heat."

"Oh, Ange, that’s great."

"Yeah," Angel shrugged. "Great and yet not very likely."

"Don’t worry," Jeff said confidently. "I’ll find the Rock and convince him for you."

Angel stared at Jeff. She wanted to believe him, but he’d said something like that once before. Chris Jericho hadn’t signed, so why would the Rock?

* * * *

Angel and Tim lay in each other’s arms in their hotel room.

"So, tell me about this petition," Tim said finally.

"There’s not much to tell. I get fifteen people to sign it or I’ll have security physically removing me. I have until Sunday to get one more or I’m gone."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Tim asked softly.

"Yeah, it would. I have goals, Tim, plans. If I can’t stay, they go too."

"But you could come home."

"You don’t understand. I don’t expect you to. This is something I have to do. I need revenge, Tim."

"You’ve never been vengeful before."

"I’d never been hit with a ring bell before. I promise you, as soon as I get my own back on Richards, I’ll come home."

"Will you?" Tim wondered aloud. "Or maybe just when you’re about to, someone else will piss you off and you’ll stick around to fight them, too. I’ve seen you around here, Angel. You love it. I know it wouldn’t take much to convince you to stay."

"No," Angel argued. "Just Richards. That’s all I want."

"Do you miss us, Angel? Do you miss me?"

"Of course I…"

"I want the truth."

"Of course I do, Tim. I love you. All this, it isn’t home. It’s dingy hotel rooms and endless training sessions that leave me physically and mentally exhausted."

"And yet you’re desperate to get your last signature so you can stay."

"Revenge, Tim."

"It’s not revenge," Tim sighed. "Revenge is using a wheel lock on the bloke’s rental car. Revenge is taking the last steak from catering and leaving him with tuna surprise. Revenge is stealing the guy’s girlfriend – not that I want you to do that. Revenge isn’t killing yourself for something that might never happen."

"This industry depends on ‘might’. If that’s all I have, it’s good enough."

"But when, Angel? Weeks, months, years?"

"I don’t know," Angel admitted. "But I know I have to see it through."

"You don’t, Angel."

"I do, Tim."

Tim sighed. "I want you to come home."

"I will," Angel replied. "As soon as…"

"No, you’re not hearing me. I want you to come home with me on Sunday. Everyone misses you, Angel, more than you could know. Just come home, forget about the fifteenth name. Leave this crazy dream…"

"You think I’m crazy?" Angel cut in.

"No, I don’t, but…"

"Yes you do. Everyone does. The only people who take me seriously are Lita, Jeff and Al Snow. They believe in me. Why can’t you?"

"It’s not normal, Angel. Normal people don’t beat each other up with doll heads and ring bells."

"What’s normal, Tim?"

"Not this, that’s for sure."

"I need to do this, Tim. You don’t understand how much."

"You’re damn right I don’t understand. Angel, come home with me on Sunday. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be waiting when you do get back."

Angel frowned. "You…you want to break up with me?"

"No, of course I don’t but I…I feel like I’m losing you, Angel. If you catch that plane with me I’ll know that you’re still mine. If you don’t…" He trailed off.

"You’re telling me to choose?" Angel asked.

"Yes, I suppose I am."

Angel lay still for a moment, then got to her feet. "Screw you, Tim. How can you do that? All I want is for you to understand."

Tim sat up. "And all I want is to be with you. Why can’t you understand that?"

Angel put her hands on her hips. "I can’t believe you’d ask me to choose."

"And I can’t believe you’d expect me to hear about all the times you’ve been hit in the head and then expect me to be cool with it. For all I know, that’s why you’re acting like this."

Angel glared at him. "That’s it," she said evenly. "That’s enough. You just made my choice for me. I love you with all my heart but no, Tim, no. That’s it." She stepped over to the door.

"Angel, wait!" Tim called, but she left the room and slammed the door. He raced over and opened it, then looked outside to see her standing next door. Jeff Hardy took her into his arms and led her into his room. Tim shook his head and stepped back inside. Some time over the last month and a bit he’d lost her. He knew it. He didn’t know where, when, why or how but he was beginning to figure out who. And the answer to that was simple. Jeff Hardy.