STRIKING BACK

SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, JULY 29TH, 2001

Trish had a broken ankle. She’d had an operation to remove bone fragments from it and was now at home in Toronto, recovering. She, like Chyna, did not blame Angel for what had happened, but there was still the certain problem of Angel blaming herself. She was stilted in training, restless in sleep and her lack of appetite was mind-boggling to Jericho. He tried to snap her out of it by playing his own heavy metal rendition of 3-Count’s ‘Can’t Get You Out Of My Heart’ as well as another version more faithful to the original, and she laughed and rolled her eyes and called him a dickhead, but she was still preoccupied with the Alliance. Their obsession with her was her own obsession, and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t let it rest until she got rid of them for good. Really, the only advantage they had was that the Alliance stayed in a different hotel to the WWF and so she didn’t have to deal with jackasses like Lance Storm 24/7.

Right now they were training, but it wasn’t fun like normal. Angel was cold, clinical, favoring high impact over high risk and getting increasingly frustrated every time she lost the sequence, which was practically every time. Angel wasn’t the greatest at high impact. Still, Jericho kept beating her, never going easy. Maybe her frustration would inspire her into showing a little bit of passion. Apparently not, as she pulled herself to her feet after a particularly vicious clothesline.

“That’s enough. I’m done.”

She didn’t even look at him, simply grabbed her unused bag of hardcore weapons and her water bottle before climbing out of the ring and leaving the room.

Jericho watched her go, then sighed and gathered up his own water bottle and towel. He hoped this wasn’t what it looked like – that Rogue was losing her desire to compete. Once that happened, you might as well hang up your boots for good. Rogue was too young to retire, anyone could see that. But if she lost her passion, that’d be all she wrote. But hey, maybe that’s what those ECW assclowns were counting on. Maybe they wanted Rogue out of the picture and that was why they’d started this whole crazy campaign in the first place. Yeah, that was probably it. They didn’t want her at all. They wanted to end her. They knew they couldn’t do it by fighting her, so they did it this way. Obviously, they were a whole lot smarter than he’d given them credit for. But now he had to talk to Rogue. Get her back in the spirit of things, before she threw in the towel for good, garnering yet another Alliance victory. They WWF needed Rogue. Now he had to make her see it.

* * * *

“Hey, Angel. Come on over here a minute.”

Angel lifted her gaze from where it was glued to the floor. Jeff Hardy was sitting on a weights bench, smiling endearingly. She self-consciously found herself smiling back as she headed over there.

“Hey Jeff,” she said carefully.

Suddenly he reached out, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down on the bench next to him.
“Check this out,” he said, pointing across the room.

There stood Kurt Angle, doing free weights exercises with two excruciatingly large dumbbells, with such speed and precision he was practically a machine.

“Isn’t that fantastic?” Jeff grinned. “He’s been doing that kind of thing for as long as I’ve been here, and probably a whole lot longer than that. Inspirational stuff, huh?”

Angel peered up at Jeff and had to smile at the awe etched across his face.

“Jeff,” she said slowly. “Do you have a crush on Kurt Angle?”

Jeff caught her eye and grinned. “Kurt? No. He’s not really my type. Although there is something about championships that I do find very sexy.”

Angel gave a crisp nod. “Too bad Trish couldn’t win mine, huh?”

“Hey, she gave it her best,” Jeff replied. “And the better woman won.”

“She’s not too disappointed?” Angel asked anxiously. “With losing…with being injured…with missing maybe a couple of months of action?”

“No, she’s fine,” Jeff assured her. “You know Trish. She always makes the best of everything.
Yesterday she was getting some practice on her crutches going shopping at the mall. The only part she didn’t like was getting a wheelchair onto the plane to Toronto, but she even enjoyed that after she realized how much special attention she was getting.”

Angel actually found herself laughing. “Good old Trish. So, she calls you, then?”

“Every day,” Jeff confirmed. “Usually more than once. She just likes talking and you know, I’ve always been a good listener.”

“Yeah, you have,” Angel agreed.

Jeff slowly snaked his arm around her. “I’m still a good listener, Angel. And if there’s anything you want to say, anything, I’ll be here for you.”

Angel nodded and felt herself being drawn into Jeff, her head resting on his shoulder.

Both of them laughed as Kurt shouted “Whoo!” and moved on to heavier weights.

“I kind of feel sorry for him,” Angel said reflectively.

“You do?” Jeff frowned.

“Yeah. I mean, on SmackDown he won the WCW championship. He’s the closest thing to a leader the WWF has. He’s in for the team, the whole way, but tomorrow, if the Rock comes back to the WWF, everyone’s going to forget about Kurt Angle again. It’ll be all about the Rock. And Kurt’ll probably revert back to the pre-Invasion jackass he was.”

“Maybe it won’t happen, Angel,” Jeff replied.

“What, you mean maybe the Rock’ll join the Alliance?”

“No, what I mean is, maybe Kurt’ll fight with the Rock, not against him. This whole WCW/ECW thing has tested us all, in different ways. We’ve had to be really strong, to fight for ourselves, to fight for each other. All our old enemies are now friends. We’re a family now. And I think that’ll only get stronger once Rocky comes back.”

“It hasn’t been easy, Jeff,” Angel said quietly.

“Oh, I know,” Jeff replied. “Did you see my Invasion match with Rob Van Dam? JR…he actually pulled me aside on Raw and told me not to go so hard. You know, stuff about shortening my career and all. But if you ask me, I didn’t go hard enough. I didn’t win the thing.”

Angel gave a slow nod. “You know, it drove me crazy when you had the hardcore title. I was so pissed at you.”

“I know,” Jeff grinned. “I almost crapped myself when you challenged.”

“I was proud of you too, though,” Angel announced.

“You were?”

“Oh yeah, Jeff. Do you remember that day when you won the light heavyweight championship? How you were all depressed because Eddie got injured and Matt had singles success? Well, look at you, Jeff. Do you realize you’ve held four championships just this year?”

“Really?” Jeff frowned. “That many?”

“Sure,” Angel enthused. “You and Matt had the tag titles, then you beat Triple H for IC gold, Jerry Lynn for light heavyweight and Mike Awesome for hardcore. No one else has had a year like that, Jeff. It’s really quite remarkable.”

“Yeah, well you haven’t had such a back year yourself,” Jeff told her. “You came from nowhere, you’ve been on the WWF payroll a month and you’ve already held two titles. That even beats Kurt Angle, you know, and he’s the most successful superstar in the shortest amount of time ever. Someday, you could be over there in the gym, shouting ‘whoo’ and making all the young kids laugh with your energy.”

“Oh God, I hope not,” Angel muttered. “And if I ever lose the amount of hair Kurt has in the last year or so, please…please, just kill me.”

Jeff laughed. “Your hair’s fine.” He paused a moment, tapping thoughtfully on her arm. “Hang in there, Gel,” he said at last. “I know this thing with ECW isn’t easy for you, but you know what? You can’t let them get to you. Be like Kurt. He got screwed over by Austin, he’s gone through two tables in a little over a week, but he came back on SmackDown to win the WCW title. You have to keep fighting, Angel. If not for you, do it for Trish, do it for Chyna, do it for the WWF.”

“You sound like Jerky,” Angel told him.

“Well, good. You know how I look up to Chris. We need you, Angel. Keep heading out to that ring, holding your head up high. Y’all are going to be the best women’s champion ever. I just know it.”

“Yeah,” Angel muttered bitterly. “’Cause no one’s gonna want to challenge me, knowing what ECW’ll do to them.”

“Well, that’s their problem, Angel,” Jeff argued. “If they’re afraid of getting hurt, they shouldn’t be here in the first place. You can’t let this get to you. You have to keep going. I want you to go to the ring tonight and offer an open challenge like you did on SmackDown. I bet you all I have that someone shows up. We’re not afraid, Angel. Trish wasn’t afraid on Thursday, even after what happened to Chyna. And I’m sure Jackie and the others aren’t afraid either. You’ll see.”

Angel sighed. “I don’t want to retire from wrestling, to stick to being Jerky’s bodyguard and all that, but if I cause a wipeout of all the divas in the WWF locker room, I’ll tell you right now. It’s not worth it. I like the fact that I have a title belt, but I haven’t even gotten to enjoy it. Tonight’s the last time. If I can’t retain my title tonight without interference from ECW, that’s it. It’s over.”

“Angel.” Jeff gripped her hand tightly. “Trust me on this. It’ll work out. I swear.”

* * * *

“I need your help.”

Both Acolytes looked up from their poker game.

“What is it, honey?” Bradshaw frowned.

Angel immediately reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, throwing it onto the table. “I need protection.”

Bradshaw grinned lecherously. “If I had a woman like you, I wouldn’t be using no protection.”

“You said it, brother,” Faarooq agreed, gathering up the cards and cracking open another beer.

“Guys, this is serious,” Angel told them. “It’s about those ECW guys who keep following me around.”
Faarooq and Bradshaw froze.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Bradshaw asked. “When do you need us?”

“Tonight. I’m holding another open challenge for the women’s title.”

Faarooq turned to Bradshaw. “You want a shot at the women’s title?”

“And get my ass kicked by a girl again? I don’t think so.” He winked over at Angel. “Wouldn’t want to hurt you, honey.”

Angel took a deep breath. “They’re gonna come to my match. I know they will. What I need you to do is stop them before they get there. I want a fair match tonight, so I’m hiring you not for me, but for my opponent. I need to ensure her safety, whoever she is. Can you do that for me?”

Faarooq frowned and picked up her wad of cash. “Girl, we don’t want your money.”

“You don’t?” Angel frowned.

“No. Just show up tomorrow night with a half dozen beers and we’ll call it even.”

“Really?” Angel cried.

“Honey,” Bradshaw smiled. “Any excuse to pound Alliance ass is good enough for us. I got a feeling we’re gonna enjoy tonight. All of us.”

* * * *

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Alliance member,” called a voice. “Angel, you look good enough to eat. And while I’m not in the habit of eating women, I think I’d make an exception for you.”

“How kind of you,” Angel quipped, continuing her walk.

Mike Awesome frowned for a moment but then stepped out of the doorway he’d been standing in and began following Angel down the hall. “Angel, wait. I wanna talk to you for a minute.”

“Can’t, Mike,” Angel called, not even slowing down. “I’m on my way to a match.”

“Hey, I got a match too. I’ve got Hardcore Holly. Don’t you ever think it’s strange that he calls himself Hardcore when he is in the WWF and not ECW? ECW is the home of hardcore. Tell you what, Angel.” He suddenly leaped ahead and threw her against the wall, his dark brown eyes holding her gaze for just a moment before traveling down to her cleavage. “I’d really like to get hardcore with you, you know what I mean?”

Angel formed a smirk. “Well, gee, Mike. What an unbeatable invitation.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Mike asked her, lifting his hand and running a finger down her cheek. “You know, you’d look great in my corner tonight. I could go get those bitches who make the costumes to hurry the fuck up with mine. You know what I’m getting?”

“VD?” Angel guessed. “Oh, wait. I’m sure you already have that.”

“No,” Mike frowned. “I’m getting these pants, see. And down one leg, it’s going to say ‘Awesome’ and down the other leg, it’s also going to say ‘Awesome’ and you know why, Angel? So whichever way you look at me from, all you can see is the Awesome one.”

Angel felt her stomach turn over.

“So, Angel,” Mike said, still completely focused on her breasts. “How about it? You’re in my corner for my match with Holly, then you come back to my hotel room so I can fuck you into the ground.”

“Hmm, as tempting as that sounds,” Angel murmured, grabbing Mike by the sides of his face and lifting his gaze to hers. “I’d have to say no.”

With that, she cracked her knee up, right between his legs. As he doubled over, she scooped the women’s title belt from around her waist and sent it hurtling forward, right into his forehead and laying him out in the middle of the hallway. She backed up a little and frowned down at Mike, half expecting the cavalry to arrive in the form of Van Dam, Storm or Credible, but none came. So she shrugged, shouldered her belt and continued her walk to the ring. Hey, maybe the women’s title belt would be useful after all.

* * * *

“So, here I am again,” Angel announced, pacing out the ring. “And I’ve gotta tell you, I’m sick to death of ECW and the whole bloody Alliance. I intend to have a match tonight and hopefully this will be third time lucky. But chances are some Alliance members are going to come crash the party. On Thursday, I told them to stay away, but they showed up anyway. So, you know what? Tonight, I’m inviting them to come. You’re welcome at ringside, guys. In fact, I dare you. I know now I can’t keep you away, so dammit, I expect you here. Cheer me on. Do whatever the hell you want to do. But now, I’m here to say that this…” She held up her title belt. “…Is on the line again tonight. Whoever wants it has a shot. But, before we find out if anyone’s going to accept, I have to tell you, whoever you are, you have my utmost respect. I don’t blame you for balking at this opportunity, I probably wouldn’t want it either, after what happened to Chyna and Trish. But hey, if this doesn’t bother you, come on down, and let’s see if we can’t get this done in a fair, one on one, girl on girl wrestling match. So, how about it? Anyone out there want to play?”

In answer, an entrance song played and Molly Holly stepped out onto the stage, microphone in hand.

“Angel, I’m not afraid of the Alliance. And if you want to put your title on the line, well, everybody knows I’ve always wanted to be the women’s champion. I’ll fight you, if you like.”

“You sure you wanna do this?” Angel asked skeptically.

“I sure do, Angel,” Molly nodded eagerly.

“Okay.” Angel mirrored her nod. “Let's do it.”

Molly broke into a grin and ran down the ramp. She climbed into the ring as the ref held the belt above his head. Angel was holding out her hand and Molly shook it, a smile on her face. And then some more music played. The APA had arrived.

Angel gave them a cool little nod.

“For your protection,” she said to Molly.

“Oh,” Molly frowned. “I don’t need ‘em.”

“Trust me, Moll,” Angel muttered. “You will.”

“Well, I don’t think so, but it doesn’t matter,” Molly announced, smile back in place. “Let’s just fight, okay?”

Angel gave a little nod. She was glad her opponent was Molly, but somewhat nervous, too. With Chyna and Lita excluded, Molly was by far the biggest threat to Angel’s title. With all respect to Jackie, who was hard and tough, Molly was a threat because her fighting style was so similar to Angel’s. Whereas Jackie was the closest thing a diva could be to an Acolyte-style brawler, Molly was a great technical wrestler, a grappler extraordinaire. Angel had trained with Chris Benoit, while Molly had trained at the school of one Dean Malenko, the professor and a shooter in his own right. And not only that, Molly had her own shooting star press, the Molly-Go-Round as well as several other tried and true high risk moves. This was going to be a hell of a match.

Angel took a deep breath as the bell rang, and began to circle, ready for the lock up. But there was to be yet another interruption. Justin Credible’s music was playing.

Angel scowled up at the ramp, where Justin and Lance Storm were posing as if they were still the Impact Players. They didn’t seem at all worried by the presence of the APA. But they should have been. Oh boy, they should have been.

“Come get me, jackasses!” Angel screamed, holding the ropes and smirking at them.

Suddenly, her shoulders were pinned. Molly had dragged her away from the ropes and rolled her right up.

“One! Two!”

Angel kicked out. Well, she’d learned her lesson. Let the APA deal with the ECW intruders. A little rattled, she nipped up and went for the clothesline, but Molly ducked it, booted her in the stomach and sent her for an Irish whip. Molly grabbed her on the return for the sidewalk slam, but Angel twisted around and scored the headscissors takedown. As Molly tried to find her footing, Angel raced over and took her down with one armdrag and then another.

Angel sent her for a whip into the corner, then raced in after her, but Molly leaped up the ropes, jumped over Angel and hit the mat. Just as Angel turned to find her, Molly’s legs were around her neck and bam! Her back hit the deck with a thud.

Angel tried to get up and fight back, only to be hit with a reverse hiptoss that ended up almost a suplex. Before Angel knew it, she was the one being whipped. Hey back slammed into the corner and she could only watch as Molly hurtled towards her with three handspring backflips. She hit the elbow and Angel teetered. Molly scored the bulldog and Angel hit the deck.

Molly made the cover.

“One! Two!”

Angel kicked out but with no real idea where to go from here. Molly was even tougher than she’d expected.

And then Molly had the armwringer on. Angel dropped to her knees, face contorted in pain, but Molly just flipped through to tighten it further. Angel tried to punch Molly but couldn’t connect as Molly ducked and weaved, all the time increasing the pressure and the pain.

“How about it, Angel? Do you give up?” the ref asked.

“No,” Angel moaned. There was no way she was submitting to the armwringer. No bloody way. She gritted her teeth, summoned all her strength and nipped up, taking Molly over and locking the armwringer on her instead.

Molly moaned and pushed out, forcing them both into the ropes, then ducking out of the way as Angel sped over her. Angel hit the other ropes as Molly prepped for the backdrop, then flew over the small blonde into the sunset flip.

The ref dropped to the mat.

“One! Two!”

And just then, another song started and Angel immediately released the hold. Rob Van Dam and Mike Awesome were racing down the ramp toward her while the APA were busy with Justin and Lance on the other side of the ring.

Angel scowled and leaped to her feet, knowing that a rollup from Molly was probably imminent. Sure enough, momentarily there was a hand on her shoulder. She spun defensively, only to find Molly standing there, staring up at her.

“Let’s teach them a thing or two, okay, Angel?” And then she ran towards the ropes and dropped to her hands and knees. “Come on, Angel. Come on!”

Angel raised her eyebrows and ran, springboarding off Molly’s back and hitting the suicide plancha, careering into Awesome and Van Dam and knocking them both to the ground. She leaped on Van Dam’s fallen body and began punching him furiously. And then Molly flew from the top turnbuckle in the Molly-Go-Round, flattening Mike Awesome.

Suddenly, someone hoisted Angel aside and she tried to twist, expecting to see Lance Storm. Instead she saw the wild blue eyes of Chris Jericho.

“Back in the ring, baby. We’ll take it from here.”

She dove into the ring, breaking the ten count and turned around to find that Jericho and the Hardy Boyz were now fighting Awesome and Van Dam, while Molly climbed back into the ring.

Angel raised her eyebrows at the blonde, whose pretty face was flushed with excitement.

“Shall we?” Angel asked, holding out her hands.

Molly nodded enthusiastically. “We shall.”

And so they locked up. Angel, while easily the bigger, was not necessarily the stronger of the two and they jostled for position until Angel finally grabbed Molly’s arm and Irish whipped her, catching her on the return with a knee to the abdomen. Angel ran into the ropes again, slamming into Molly on the return and snapping her over in the suplex. She kept going then, hitting the ropes and leaping in the Asai moonsault. She hit it, made the cover and hooked the leg.

“One!” counted the ref. “Two!”

But Molly kicked out.

Angel was up quickly and bam! Knife-edge. Bam! Another. Bam! A third and Molly hit the ringpost. Angel went for another knife-edge, but Molly ducked it and caught Angel with a chop of her own that sent her back a few steps.

Molly quickly sent her for a whip into the other corner and ran in after her, but Angel ducked down and elevated her from the ring. Molly grabbed the ropes and managed to balance on the apron, then ducked a punch and landed one of her own, forcing Angel backwards. While she had the advantage, Molly went up top. She was going to hit the Molly-Go-Round, on Angel this time. Unfortunately for her, Angel had it scouted, ran in, then grabbed Molly and slammed her down.

Angel scooped her up and formed the waistlock. Bam! One German. Bam! Two Germans. Bam! Three Germans. Angel was soon on her feet, looking down at Molly, who hadn’t moved. This one was over. She ran into the corner.

Bam! Bottom rope moonsault. Bam! Second rope moonsault. Jump up top, jump around.

“Lucha libre!”

Angel flew in the senton and hit it. She made the cover and hooked both legs. The ref dropped down.

“One! Two! Three!”

The ref held Angel’s hand aloft as Howard Finkel made the announcement.

“Here is your winner and still the World Wrestling Federation women’s champion, Angel Torres!”

The crowd was cheering as Angel accepted her belt. She’d done it – won a match without any tangible interference from ECW, and furthermore, there was Molly, defeated but safe on the canvas.

Angel leaned down and offered a hand, which Molly gratefully accepted.

“Thanks for fighting me, Moll.”

Molly gave a little smile. “Anytime, Angel. And hey, maybe next time I’ll beat you.”

“Don’t count on it,” Angel teased, pulling the small blonde in for a hug, then grabbing her wrist and hoisting both of their hands into the air.

“Oh my goodness, Angel,” Molly gasped. “Look at that!”

Angel’s mouth dropped open at what she saw. The ring was absolutely surrounded by brawling men – the APA, Jericho, the Hardyz and the four ECW jackasses, but more than that. The Dudley Boyz, Tommy Dreamer, Raven, Rhyno and Tazz had come to bail out their ECW buddies while Edge, Christian, Kane, the Undertaker and Kurt Angle were helping carry the torch for the WWF. Angel had a feeling that they were soon to be joined by WCW as well. And so she turned to Molly.

“Hey Moll. How’s your missile dropkick?”

Molly grinned. “You wouldn’t even believe it. Let’s go.”

With that they each climbed a turnbuckle to the top.

“Bubba Ray Dudley!” Angel cried and they both flew, slamming their boots into Bubba’s head, knocking him to the ground.

“Think we can suplex him?” Angel asked.

“Well, he’s kind tubby,” Molly grinned. “But yeah, I think so.”

They both grabbed Bubba, gritted their teeth and bam! Over he went. Before he knew what was going on, he found himself in the ring.

Molly really got into it, surprising D-Von from behind and cracking his head against the apron before holding him while Angel climbed back up top and hit the hurricanrana. Then they rolled him into the ring and continued their assault.

One by one, the ECW members were brought down and forced into the ring. They didn’t see it coming, not expecting mostly airborne attacks by two girls in their early twenties. Tandem shooting star presses, dropkicks and crossbodies, paired with double suplexes, side Russian leg sweeps and drop toe holds, before they were forced into the ring. The other WWF superstars began to follow suit and soon there was nothing left of ECW but a pile of bodies in the ring.

Angel grinned and high-tenned Molly.

“If they ever make a women’s tag team division, you are down as my partner, Moll. We make a great team.”

“What about Lita?” Molly frowned.

“Well of course I’d love to team with my cousin,” Angel replied. “But I’ve got a feeling that, once Trish comes back from injury, she and Lita are going to be closer than ever.”

Molly smiled. “I think all of us are, don’t you think so?”

Angel paused and looked around at the WWF superstars, standing outside the ring, talking and glaring threateningly up at the ECW fallen.

“You know what, Molly?” Angel mused as Jericho handed her the women’s title belt. “I think you’re absolutely right.”