Nephthys (nephthys_abode) wrote,

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Fireworks (9/?)

Features: Undertaker (Mark Calaway)
Rating: NC17 for language

Usual disclaimer - own nothing but my original characters, all the other people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!

As always, comments and feedback are warmly welcomed!



Harley came awake with a stretch, feeling the dressings on her back and neck pull lightly against her skin. She sat up and went into the bathroom, turning her back to the mirror and carefully removing them. There had been the usual weeping overnight, but peering closely at her skin, she couldn't see any blood. She stepped into the shower and used her antibacterial soap to carefully clean both tattooed areas as she bathed, and then patted the skin dry, pleased when there was no fresh bleeding.

She stepped back into the room and picked up her clothes from the night before, going through the pockets, a little confused when she couldn't find the aftercare cream. She knew Denny had put a tube out for her, and she was sure she'd picked it up - well, at least, that she hadn't left it behind. While she was puzzling over this, the phone rang, and she picked it up.

"This is Harley."

"Good morning Kate," said Mark.

"Hey Mark," she said, a bit distractedly, still looking around the room, wondering where on earth that cream had gotten to.

"Looking for something?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"If it's your aftercare cream, you can stop looking. I've got it."

"You've got it?" She was puzzled.

"Yeah, I picked it up last night, figured I had bigger pockets than you."

"Thank God for that! I was thinking I was going to need to make a drugstore run before breakfast. Can you drop it off at my room?"

He chuckled. "Well I suppose I could. What time are you going to breakfast?"

As they spoke, she was taking a halter bikini top out of her case, and a loose shirt. It would be cool in the heat, and most importantly wouldn't rub on the new tattoos. "Ah, now?"

"Aw hell, I'm only just awake. Come by my room on your way and I'll give it to you, okay?"

"Sure thing, Mark. I'll see you in a few."

She finished dressing, doing up the bikini top, pulling it down a little so that it didn't rub against her new tattoo, and then slipped on her shirt and buttoned it up. Not quite crew uniform, but it would be okay for the next day or so, at least until she could put a t-shirt on again. She took the elevator up to Mark's room, and knocked on his door.

Mark opened it, smiling at her. He was dressed in a bathrobe.

"Come on in, Kate."

"Nah, don't want to mess with your morning routine or whatever. Just give me the cream and I'll get out of your hair."

He chuckled. "How do you figure you're gonna get cream onto that new tattoo, Kate?"

She bristled. "Hey, I did okay washing it, so I'll manage with the cream."

He just folded his arms and looked at her. "Kate, don't be so damn stubborn. The first couple of days, you need to make sure it's properly taken care of, you know that. I'm only offering to help."

She gave him a look from under her lashes that made him think she was about to kick the floor and pout, the way little kids do when they know they're beaten. Goddamn it, she was an absolute mule when she set her mind to it! Finally, with a shrug of her shoulders, she nodded.


He stepped aside so she could come in, resisting the urge to shake his head until she'd passed him. He headed for the table, where he'd left the cream after calling her, and picked it up. She simply stood in the centre of the room.

"Well?" he asked.

"What?" she demanded crossly.

He glared at her. "The shirt, Kate? I can't put the cream on while you're still wearing the shirt - take the damn thing off."

She muttered something under her breath and turned her back, unbuttoning her shirt as she did and letting it slip down off her shoulders. He saw the bikini top, and put the cream down as he reached for the clasp to undo it, which made her immediately step away from him, looking over her shoulder at him as her hands came up to hold the top to her breasts, her shirt around her arms.

"Whoa! What the hell are you doing?"

"Wanted to be able to put the cream on without fussing around the damn strap. Will you relax?"

He took hold of her shoulders and turned her back to him firmly, and she wrenched them out of his hands with a glare back at him. He simply held up the tube of cream, his eyebrows raised questioningly. After a long moment, she finally nodded and turned her head back to the front, and he shook his head as he squeezed some of the cream onto her skin and carefully spread it thinly over the tattoo, which he was pleased to note looked clean and dry. Leaving her bikini undone, he looked at the back of her neck and decided on a new strategy.

"Kate, I need to lift your hair out of the way to do the parts near your neck, okay?"

He had no idea why she was so damned gun-shy about him touching her, but if he had to treat her like a skittish animal, he would. She nodded and dropped her head forward. He brushed her hair to one side and gently applied the cream to the areas Denny had touched up. Putting the cap back on the tube, he then reached for the straps of her bikini and fastened them again, making sure they didn't touch the tattoo.

The moment she felt his hands leave her bikini straps, she stepped away, pulling her shirt up , careful not to drag it over the cream, and began buttoning it. She turned as she did so, giving him a sidelong look.


"It's no problem."

She held out her hand and he looked at her curiously.

"The cream," she said. "I'll take it with me."

"You'll need to have it applied again tonight after you shower."

She shook her head. "I'll manage."

"Kate, just call me tonight and I'll come and put it on. Then you can have it. Shit, Denny would eat me alive if he knew you had a problem with his work that I could have helped you prevent."

Damn it to hell, she didn't know what was worse - the fact that she knew he was right, or the fact that it was him being right. "Okay, you can do it for me tonight. But after that, I can manage on my own."

"Why must everything be an argument with you?" he snapped.

"Beats the hell out of me - I thought we gave up arguing. Apparently, we didn't!" she retorted, turning on her heel and heading for the door, snatching it open and then slamming it behind her.

Mark just shook his head. It appeared the ceasefire was no longer in effect.


Harley stood in the hotel corridor, breathing deeply, her hands clenched at her sides. What the hell was it about him that always got her so riled up? It wasn't like they couldn't get along - last night had proved that, so had the evening they'd spent at the concert. And yet, here she was, mad enough to spit chips, and over what? His offer to help, for god's sake!

She rubbed a hand over her forehead. Didn't they say that insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Maybe it was time to try something new. Turning around, she reached out to knock on Mark's door again.

When he opened it, she almost wanted to take a step backwards. Damn it, the man was scary when he was so intense! Those green eyes bored straight into her, and her chin came up. His eyebrows raised, and then drew together in a frown. Double scary!

"I . . . I'm sorry."

He blinked, and the frown smoothed out. He regarded her seriously for a moment, and then nodded.

"So am I."

"You were trying to help. And I do appreciate it."

"Maybe I was bullying you. I do that - force of habit," he chuckled.

She risked a small smile. "When you bully, I dig in my heels - force of habit."

He out and out laughed then, and she smiled more widely.

"So - truce again?"

He nodded. "Yeah."


"Don't mention it. Now get out of here - the roster will have a field day if they catch you looking like you've come out of my room."

Harley laughed. "Specially with you only wearing a bathrobe! Catch you later, Mark."

He laughed, shooing her away with one hand as he closed the door. She headed for the elevator, pleased that she had been able to restore the peace again.


The rumour mill, with its usual facility for being in the right place at the right time, was way ahead of both of them. The news that they had been out together the night before, and had come back together hand in hand, or so the story went, was already circulating. And someone had already seen Harley going into Mark's room that morning.

Thinking ahead to her day's work, Harley missed the glances as she came into the hotel restaurant, taking a seat with some of the crew at one of the tables, and no one felt the need to let her know what the scuttlebutt was saying about her and Mark, so she enjoyed her breakfast in peace.

Glenn, on the other hand, felt no such compunctions, and had called Mark's room as he was getting dressed.

"Hear you've been painting the town red again, buddy," Glenn laughed.

"What are you talking about?" Mark asked.

"You and Harley - big date last night. And then she came up for a little morning delight - you dog, you!"

Mark rolled his eyes. "God, have people really got so little to do around here that all they can do is gossip?"

"Hey, I think it's funny. They're so very willing to believe that you and she are . . . well, you know. ' 'Taker and the pyro chick' - it's got such a nice ring to it, doncha think?"

Mark burst out laughing. " 'The pyro chick'? Man, if she should be hooked up with anyone, it should be you, ya big freak!"

"Hey, I'm not the one going out with her, Mark!"

"I'm not 'going out' with her! Can't two adults socialize and have it not be about sex?"

"Sure," said Glenn. "Just not in this company. We've all got that 'familiarity breeds contempt' thing happening, so we're predisposed to think the worst of one another."

Mark laughed and hung up, shaking his head. Glenn was right, of course - they all spent so much damn time together that they knew one another way too well. Any hint that something new was going on, and they gathered like sharks smelling blood in the water. As he pulled on his shirt, he spotted Harley's bra where he'd left it next to his jeans last night. He had planned to give it to her this morning, but he'd forgotten when they started wrangling.

A grin spread over his face. Maybe it was time to really give them something to talk about. He put the bra into his pocket as he went down to breakfast, hoping very much that he'd find Harley still there.


Harley was enjoying a second cup of coffee as some of the crew discussed the day's work, and didn't see Mark approaching the table behind her. He lay a hand on her shoulder and leaned in with a smile.

"Kate, got a minute?"

She looked up at him and nodded, going to push her chair back, a little surprised when he held it for her. She rose to her feet and he stepped a few paces away from the table. Of course, that just put them closer to tables filled with members of the roster, most of whom had already heard the morning's gossip and now eagerly listened to see what else they could learn.

Mark gave her a smile. "Ah, you left something behind in my room."

Harley frowned a little. She thought they'd agreed that he was going to keep the cream, but either way, it was cool. She put out her hand to take it from him. Mark reached into his pocket and withdrew her bra slowly and laid it on her upturned palm, giving her a tiny wink.

Her eyes widened - he must have pocketed it at Denny's, where she remembered putting it down on the desk. Belatedly, she noticed the sudden silence in the restaurant and realized that this was providing serious grist for the rumour mill. From the look in Mark's eyes, this was exactly what he'd had in mind. Her own eyes twinkled as she decided to play along.

She hurriedly stuffed the bra into one pocket, leaving part of the lace cup visible as she looked up at Mark, biting her bottom lip to try and hide her smile.

"Ooops. Yeah, I guess I did forget that. Thanks." She hoped he would realize she was actually thanking him for collecting it at Denny's the night before.

"It's no problem, really." Mark smiled again. He'd gotten the message. Now it was time to really crank that mill going. "I hope you aren't too sore this morning, though." He meant her new tattoos.

Harley tried very hard not to grin. Oh, two could play at this double meaning game, she thought. "Well, I kind of know it's there, you know, but no, not too sore."

He fought the urge to laugh - she was good! He could almost hear jaws dropping around them. But he wasn't done yet - there was still the matter of how good a job he'd done applying the aftercare cream. "I'm glad. I was a little afraid I might hurt you, even though I was being careful."

Harley had to close her eyes, and she was biting the inside of her lip to stop from laughing out loud. When she did open her eyes, the vast amusement in Mark's eyes wasn't helping. She reached out and touched his hand, looking up at him with the most empty headed expression of adoration she could manage with a straight face. She'd show him! "Oh no. You were very gentle, thank you."

She was evil, he had to give her that. And a master at double meanings too. He captured her hand between his own, smiling at her. This was probably going to give someone a heart attack, but he was only confirming their earlier discussion about applying the aftercare cream again. "So, shall we . . . do it again tonight?"

There was a clatter as someone dropped a piece of cutlery, which sounded shockingly loud in the silence, and their eyes met, both sets showing vast amusement. She smiled up at him. "Yeah, I'd like that." She leaned in a little. "In fact, I think I need that." Nothing like underlining things - he was right about the importance of aftercare.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Kate" Mark grinned. "You give me a call when you want it, okay?"

Harley grinned back at him. "I'll do that, Mark."

"Want to join me for breakfast?"

"Just finished mine, I'm afraid. And I do have to get to work," she smiled.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Most definitely." She gave him a little wink as she left the restaurant, this time very aware of the eyes on her as she did so.

Mark grinned and headed for a table by himself, wondering how long it would take before someone dared to ask him about Harley.


Harley made it to the elevator without cracking up, but it was a near thing. Once the doors closed, she burst into delighted laughter, shaking her head. Who knew Mark had such a wicked sense of humour? She went up to her room, depositing her bra on her case with a chuckle before going to brush her teeth and grab her things for the day.

As she bent over the sink, she felt her shirt catch a little on the cream on her neck, and she eased it away carefully. Rinsing her mouth, she decided to change it for a tank top - the last thing she wanted today was for the newly touched up areas on her neck to be constantly rubbed by the fabric. She unbuttoned the shirt and hung it over the back of a chair, and dug out the tank top she'd worn last night, pulling it on quickly. That certainly felt better.

She hurried to the elevator and made it to the lobby just in time to grab the hotel shuttle to the venue, which at this hour only carried crew. And none of them seemed willing to raise the subject of what was going on with her and Mark. Or perhaps they just hadn't heard yet. It certainly appeared that gossip travelled much faster through the talent. She stifled a grin, thinking of the day Mark was likely to have in that event.

Her first task for the day was setting stage pyros, and she was busily unloading these from one of the trucks when Bob approached her.


She gave him a quick smile, lifting a crate of pyros onto a dolly. "Hey Bob."

He waved a piece of paper at her. "Got a little surprise for you."

"What's that?" she said, wheeling the dolly onto the loading dock.

"OSHA inspection - tomorrow night."

She set the dolly upright, shaking her head. "Well that's just brilliant! Don't those idiots know we're doing a live show tomorrow night? It's hardly the right time for us to be escorting auditors all over the place!"

Bob nodded. "I know. But that's their point - they need to be sure we don't cut corners when it's a live show, and put people in danger."

Harley felt her stomach sink. "Shit, this is because Mark got hurt while you were away, isn't it? And it was seen live."

He nodded again. "They don't say so specifically, but yeah, I'm assuming that's the reason."

"Aw hell. That happened on my watch - I'm sorry, Bob."

"Harley, I'm not blaming you. Hell, had I been here, nothing would have been different - that was a human error in the ring, not anything we had any control over."

She shook her head. "Doesn't change the fact that I was in the hot seat that night."

"Which is why I wanted you to know ahead of time. They're going to want to interview you, I think. Which means I can't leave you in charge of the big board. Which then means you'll get to play tour guide."

"Crap." Harley stared at her workboots and sighed. Then her head came up. "Well, okay, I can do that. Not like I haven't done it before. But damn it, where do OSHA get off, screwing around with our ability to conduct business? I didn't think that was in their charter."

Bob shrugged. "Hey, who can tell with these mooks? Perhaps one of 'em is a wrestling fan and sees this as a way to get a free backstage pass."

Harley gave him a flat stare. "Then he can prepare to be disappointed. I will walk their asses all over this place, show 'em every little thing we do, and keep them right the fuck away from the talent."

He grinned. "I knew you'd be the right man for the job!"

She couldn't help but grin back as she grabbed the dolly again and kicked it over, beginning to wheel it backstage. Bob walked along beside her.

"You will wear a proper crew t-shirt tomorrow night, right?" he said, glancing at her tank top.

"Oh sure, Bob. Just that I got some ink done last night, and I wanted to keep it uncovered today. I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't. But tomorrow night . . . "

"Oh don't worry, tomorrow night, I'll be every inch the serious and reliable senior technician." She winked at him as she headed out towards the arena floor.


Today's musical selection from the audio guys was upbeat dance music, and Harley nodded her head to the beat as she worked. The news of the OSHA audit hadn't dampened her mood for long - she knew that they were well within code with everything they did, and had no qualms about the audit finding anything wrong. It would be a pain in the ass, but a temporary one.

As she set the various pyro shells along the front of the stage, she noted that things were starting to get a little cramped there, and she began idly rearranging them in her mind, wondering which shells she could perhaps start setting at the rear of the stage without losing the overall effect. Her hands moved automatically, wiring the charges in, until someone tapped her shoulder.

She looked around to see Jeff Hardy standing behind her.

"Hey Jeff, why didn't you say something?" she smiled.

"I did - twice. You, ah, seemed preoccupied," he said, giving her a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Jeez, I'm sorry! I was thinking about rearranging some of the pyro shells." She rose to her feet. "What's up?"

He looked at his feet. "Heard you and Mark this morning in the restaurant."

Uh oh. "And?"

He looked at her. "I thought we were friends! How come you didn't tell me things were getting serious with him?"

She couldn't help her chuckle, even though he was obviously kind of pissed off. "Because they aren't! Jeff, honestly, I would tell you if anything was going on."

She'd grown very close to Jeff, and they did talk about the dates they had. He probably knew more about her than anyone in the company, Mark included.

"Then what was that all about this morning? The whole roster's talking about how you're sleeping together!"

Laughing, she took his hand and drew him to the side of the stage. "Don't believe everything you hear. We were actually talking about my new tattoos."

"You got new tattoos?"

She nodded, turning her back and carefully lifting her tank top up. They'd compared ink at a hotel pool one afternoon, and Jeff could see the new tattoo, especially as the skin was a little puffy. He could see similar spots near her neck, and realized she'd had some touch ups done as well.

"Hey, that's nice work."

Lowering her top, she turned back to face him. "Mark took me to a guy he knows in town."

"I didn't think anyone else knew about your ink?"

She shrugged. "He saw it when I was wearing a tank top this week."

"So you're not . . . "

Laughing, she shook her head. "God no!"

He grinned then. "So what are you doing 'again tonight' then?"

She chuckled. "He's gonna put the aftercare cream on it after I shower. It's kind of in an awkward spot, and you know what it's like in the first day or so, how careful you have to be."

"I could do that for you."

Harley smiled. "And I may ask you to. But Mark picked up the aftercare cream at the parlour last night, and so he did it for me this morning before I went down to breakfast. And he's already offered to do it for me tonight - I don't want to seem ungrateful by telling him I don't need him to. Not when I really am trying to get on better with him."

Jeff grinned. "So whose idea was it to string everyone along this morning?"

She put a hand over her face, chuckling. "That was all Mark. I had no idea about any of it!"

"Come on, you had to have known! I mean, that bit with the bra was classic!"

"I didn't, I swear! He picked the bra up last night too - I hadn't thought about not being able to wear it when I chose where the new ink would go."

Jeff chuckled. "Man, that really is priceless! I mean, I really thought you guys were gettin' it on, listening to you this morning!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there isn't anything going on. It'd be a minor miracle if there ever was!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Jeez Jeff, look at the history between us. Hell, we had a fight this morning over the damn aftercare cream! Going from that to . . . well, believe me, it ain't on the cards."

"But you're trying to get on better, right?"

"Yeah, but not for that! I'd just like it if I wasn't constantly wrangling with one of the top guys. That's the kind of thing that can get you fired."

"I don't think anyone's going to fire you, Harley."

"You never know, Jeff," her tone was rueful. There was still an OSHA audit pending, after all - who knows what the company might decide in the wake of that?

He gave her a hug, careful to avoid the newly tattooed areas. "Why don't you come out with me tonight?"

She smiled, returning his hug. "I can't, Jeff. Found out we've got an OSHA audit tomorrow night, and I want to check my logs and make sure everything's up to date."

"Aw, that's no fun. You flying home this week? Maybe we can get together then?"

She shook her head. "Nah. Hardly seems worth it for three days. I promised Bob I'd hang around and give him a hand with some of the paperwork and take a driving stint in one of the trucks on the way to Vegas."

Jeff frowned. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to take some time off occasionally, Harley."

"I am taking time off. At least I'm not climbing ladders and lugging crates around."

"Okay, then you have to promise me you'll come out with me in Vegas next week. I'm not taking no for an answer, either!"

Harley had to laugh, even as she nodded. She'd spent most of her adult life around guys who were just bigger versions of Peter Pan's Lost Boys - none of them ever wanted to grow up. Rockstars, wrestlers, it didn't matter - so long as they were having fun, they were happy. And there was something quite bewitching about them all - which was probably why she liked Jeff so much. What the hell - a night or two out on the town in Vegas would be fun with him.

Happy to have extracted that promise from her, Jeff bounded off to the gym and she went back to work. The venue was surprisingly quiet, but she supposed that was because most of the wrestlers were off doing personal appearances - the company made the most of its travelling personnel, she had noticed. When she took a break for lunch, she stopped by Bob's on site office and collected her log books, intending to start going through them.

She was sitting alone, engrossed in the tallies of expended shells, fuses and other controlled materials, a sandwich forgotten on the tray beside her, when someone sat down opposite her. She looked up, a little surprised to see Glenn Jacobs.

"Hear you and Mark put on quite the show in the restaurant this morning - sorry I missed it," he chuckled.

She grinned. "I'm constantly amazed by the speed that news travels in this place. The only thing that travels faster is gossip!"

"What can I tell ya? Anything to break up the boredom," he grinned as he took a bite out of his own sandwich.

Harley just shook her head, closing up the log book in front of her. If Glenn was back from the morning's appearances, it was only a matter of time before this place was full of people. She'd take them back to the hotel tonight, as she planned. She looked at her sandwich and pushed it aside - whatever appetite she'd started with had long since vanished.

"You know, if you're gonna keep up with Mark, you're gonna have to eat. I hear he's a demon in the sack," Glenn winked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "I'd ask how you know this, but I don't think I want to know the answer." She held up a finger as he opened his mouth. "And I'm not at all interested in what his prowess or proclivities are, thank you."

"Okay, I can respect that. Anyone else I can enlighten you on, while I'm in a chatty mood?"

"No thank you! Good lord, you people are . . . "

"Oh go on, you love it."

He had her there, and she chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I hate to admit it, but I do. I'd rather y'all weren't speculating about my love life quite so much, but other than that . . . "

"So when are you going to give me something spectacular for my entrances, huh?"

"You've got to be kidding, right?"

"I never kid about stuff like that. Come on, you did that cool lightning bolt for Mark - what about me?" Glenn grinned.

"Glenn, short of settin' the whole arena on fire for you, I don't know that there's much more I can do for you."

"How about raining fire from the ceiling?"

She blinked at him, and then her expression became thoughtful. "Well, now that you mention it . . . "


"There are some curtain effect pyros that might work. I'd have to see if we could get them in red, and then work out if we could adapt them to close proximity standards. They could probably be set in the over-ring lighting rig . . . "

Glenn's eyes widened. "I was actually kidding about the raining fire thing, but if you think we can do it, jeez, can we try?"

She shrugged. "We can try just about anything. I'd have to say, though, that an effect like that is really only going to have full effect if you use it rarely. Perhaps if you win a Pay-Per match or something."

His face fell a little. "I don't have anything like that coming up."

"Well that's good, because I still have to work out if it's possible. Leave it with me, okay? I'll do some research and see what I can come up with."

He grinned. "You're . . . well hell, you're a peach, Harley!"

Chuckling, she shook her head. "Let's see if you're still saying that when I come back and tell you I can't make it rain fire for you."

She gathered her log books and balanced her tray on top of them, giving Glenn a wave as she went back to work.


Mark was vastly amused. All day, he'd been catching looks from his colleagues, but no one except Glenn had said anything to him. Jeff Hardy had given him a broad grin and a wink at the gym - that figured. He and Harley were pretty close, so she'd probably set him straight.

He ran into Glenn as he was leaving the gym, and they made plans to go out to dinner before he remembered his promise to Harley. Heading into the arena, he found her up on top of a ladder with another member of the crew, both of them bolting something onto the Titan-tron. She gave him a quick smile and a "two minutes" gesture, and he nodded, waiting for her to finish up with what she was doing.

Harley climbed down one side of the ladder as her colleague climbed down the other, and she didn't miss the glance he gave Mark and then her before walking off. She stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she came over to where Mark waited.

He grinned at her. "Having a good day?"

"Just peachy keen, jelly bean! You see the looks I'm getting?"

Mark laughed. "Yeah, I'm getting those looks too. Listen, Glenn and I just decided to go out to dinner tonight, and I remembered I promised to put your aftercare cream on tonight. Why don't you come with us?"

She shook her head, chuckling. "And have them decide that I'm taking on both of you in the bedroom? You've thrown one cat in among the pigeons today, chief, isn't that enough?"

He couldn't help grinning. "Ah, but think of the looks we'd get after that!"

"No! Besides, I have to work tonight."

Mark frowned. "Since when?"

"Since we got word we have an OSHA audit tomorrow night. I need to check my log books, make sure everything's up to date," she explained.

"Jeez, Kate, that sucks. Well, how about if I stop by after dinner and do your back? We won't be out late - we both have early appearances tomorrow."

She nodded. "That would be fine, Mark. Or you could drop the cream off before you go - I can always ask Jeff to do it for me."

"Nah, I offered, and I always keep my word. Besides, I don't want anyone thinking I'd let a pipsqueak like Hardy muscle in on my woman," he grinned, and she laughed.

"Chief, you slay me. Really. The way you fuck with people's heads should be a crime!"

"Can I help it if I'm damn good at it?"

"Get out of here, you deviant. I have work to do," she grinned back at him.

"Want me to lay one on you? Give 'em something to look at?"

"Out!" she ordered, pointing at the exit with a grin, and he laughed, giving her a wave as he left.


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Tags: fan fiction, fireworks
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