[Fiction] The Party

[z-Carver]

The party was in full swing by the time Harold and Carver arrived. Their tardiness was noted but not dwelled upon; those who knew the couple knew that they were often late. What was not general knowledge was what always made them late: sex. For now, their hands were clasped together, but even still a deluge of sexual thoughts flowed silently between the couple: a near-constant stream of ideas for later and promises of pleasure.

,,

Moving through the crowd, the couple displayed no signs of their lecherous thoughts, greeting all of the other XWF wresters and invited guests alike with warmth and openness. Nike, N!gear, McFarlane Toys and other companies were here, all trying to rub elbows with the wrestlers and make the contact that might land them a big contract in the future. The wrestlers were here for the cameras, trying to get some face time and maybe find a new angle.

,,

They were greeted as they walked in by Mr. Flair himself; Carver was pleased that he remembered not only her name, but one of the sculptures that she had done. She knew that he probably had memorized a whole list of people and a fact or two about them, but it still felt nice to be remembered. She didn’t miss the slight look of approval when he saw their outfits; Carver knew that her black dress was perfect for her athletic frame, and that Harry’s blue silk shirt and black pants flattered her love’s eyes and his constantly-improving muscular build.

,,

But for Carver, the best part was seeing Harry interact with his co-workers. He had found his confidence in the ring, and with that, he had gained some respect from the other wrestlers. Carver didn’t get to see this side of him often; sure, she rode along throughout his day, and she got to feel his camaraderie with his co-workers. But to see it, to watch his sincere grin as he greeted Brickatron or joked along with SuperBeast, was something wonderful to her. It should have been nothing, just a little bit of life, but it was a part of Harry, and it held Carver’s attention.

,,

But that was forgotten when she realized something a bit unusual. In the past, she was barely an inch shorter than Harry; she never had to tip her head back much to kiss him or look him in the eyes. Now, though, she was noticing a difference in the angle of her head and eyes. She made a mental note to ask him later, when he wasn’t in a position to be distracted by something that clearly wasn’t an immediate emergency. Instead, she resolved to enjoy the night to the fullest – despite the constant cameras and the dramatic strutting that was going on. Mythic had prepared her for this, though, and she was ready for it.

,,

* * *

,,

Matthew “Crimson Light” Simpson scanned the room impatiently, pulling his long, red ponytail straight. He was tired of waiting for management to get off his ass and promote him; he was bloody well going to find an angle for himself. Hell, management would just see it as “initiative.” He just needed someone who was in his circle and would be easy to work up, but who didn’t have any heat with anyone else. That could be difficult; Red was a tough circle, with people always fighting to get closer to Black while not getting dumped into Silver.

,,

But he didn’t have to look too long, because his perfect target came into view. Harold Anderson had been around enough to get some respect, but he hadn’t made any enemies. A lot of guys had refused to fight him because he was so small, but Light didn’t see that he was that little. Kinda slender, but that didn’t mean shit to a shape shifter. He was perfect, and Light’s gray eyes lit up with interest.

,,

But Anderson had avoided heat until now, carefully avoiding angles. It had worked for him so far, but Light needed an angle, and Anderson would just have to accept that. But how to rile up the thin, blonde man? Inspiration struck he saw the leggy nova with Anderson and he suddenly knew what to do.

,,

He pushed his way through the crowd, working his way toward the couple. The woman was beautiful, and Light wondered why management had given a knockout like her to someone like Mythic. With that heavenly face and body, she would have looked perfect with HeavenFire or even with Demon Lord, as a contrast. He raked his brain for information on her, but he had heard almost nothing about her. She was just Mythic’s girl, just management’s assigned valet, and nothing else. Which worked for Light; Anderson was the important person here.

,,

Smoothly, he stepped up behind the striped-haired nova and cupped a perfect ass with both hands. “Hey baby,” he said, his eyes on Anderson to see his reaction, “want a real man instead of a dweeb?”

,,

For a second, he was rewarded with a glare of rage from the blonde wrestler; then that perfect ass moved, something hit him in the head, and he went sprawling. A foot was in his chest; focusing his eyes, he looked up the length of her body to see cold, glittering eyes. “Touch me again,” she snarled as she flexed a delicate hand and popped nasty, silver claws, “and I’ll bleed you, gut you and then castrate you. Are we clear?”

,,

What the hell?! Light thought, but he quickly recovered and snapped, “What’s the matter, Anderson? Going to let your girl do your fighting?” Behind her, he could see the cameras swivel on the action, and he mentally cursed. This had to look so bad.

,,

That still-heavenly face snarled and the foot bore down with crushing strength. It wasn’t enough to really hurt Light, but he didn’t know that any of the valets had super-human strength. “My fight?” Anderson asked, stepping so that he could look down at Light. “You grabbed her, not me. And Carver can take care of herself; she doesn’t need me to fight for her.” His tone was a mixture of anger and pride; clearly, he was pleased that she could defend herself.

,,

An ugly thought popped into Light’s head, and he frowned. Ignoring the woman pinning him to floor, he asked Anderson, “You’d let your girl fight for you?”

,,

“I have a name,” the nova snarled. “How about you drop this misogynist bullshit and acknowledge me as a person.”

,,

“Um, no,” Mythic laughed suddenly, though it wasn’t entirely a pleasant noise. “Carver’s not my girl. She’s my girlfriend.”

,,

“Oh? Oh, shit!” Light said, all aggression and humor gone. “Anderson, I thought she was a valet!”

,,

Carver looked to Mythic, clearly confused by the terms and why they had made a difference to Light. “He thought you were one of the paid girls that serve as escorts to the fighters. It means that he shouldn’t have dragged you into this, honey,” Mythic said to Carver. “I think you can let him up now.”

,,

Reluctantly, the foot was lifted off his chest and the silver blades disappeared. Now Light was left wondering just how the hell a guy like Anderson got a girl like that. Light rolled to his feet just as “security” dashed up. As always, they interfered just late enough so that the action wouldn’t be impeded, and all they could do is see that trouble was over. It was all a show for the camera, just like everything that went on here.

,,

“So he grabbed my ass, because he thought I was just a paid date hanging on your arm?” Carver asked, and her tone was no friendlier than it was before.

,,

“It’s just business,” Light shrugged as he turned to Mythic. “Since the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, can I have a moment of your time to discuss this? Alone?”

[z-Carver]

Carver watched Harry walk away, completely unamused. This Light character was trouble; she could feel every instinct in her body telling her that fact. But Harry had wanted to see what Light wanted, though she knew from the link that he wanted to make sure Light was going to leave her the hell alone in the future. Which worked for her just fine; the unpleasant sensation of a stranger treating her like a piece of meat had burned itself into her skin, and she wanted a shower.

,,

But that was forgotten temporarily as Carver saw someone she had been seeking for a while. Minerva was still incredibly gorgeous, with her raven-black hair and impossible turquoise eyes. The green dress she was wearing fit every curve and line on her perfect body, but for the first time, Carver didn’t care how much better the beauty looked compared to Carver herself.

“Minerva?” Carver said, sneaking up on the woman subtly so that she couldn’t duck away like she had at the last party. “Got a moment?”

“I guess,” the other nova said, stepping away from her friends with a frown.

Carver fell into step next to her. She didn’t waste time getting to the point. “I owe you an apology, Minerva,” Carver said, keeping her voice even but sincere. “I was terrible to you, and I was wrong to shout at you and to hit you. I know that you were just trying to help, and while I didn’t want your help and wouldn’t have appreciated it even if you had convinced me to accept it, I appreciate it now.”

“I… why?” Minerva said, turning suddenly so that she was in front of Carver. One delicate hand grabbed her arm; Carver didn’t care for that, but allowed it because she really felt that Minerva had earned some leeway. “This all makes no sense. You and Mythic were in love – I could see that he was crazy about you, and you liked him, too. And then, you were like someone else. And Mythic was so sad. And then I hear you guys are back together, and you seem different again.”

“I can’t really explain,” Carver said, frowning. She carefully and gently extracts her arm from Minerva’s grip. “All I can tell you is that something was terribly wrong, just as you thought, but Har-Mythic helped me through it. It renewed our love, and we’re closer than ever. You were right, and I’m sorry about that.”

Minerva looked unsure for a second; then she grabbed Carver in a big hug. “I’m so happy that you two worked things out!” she cried, giggling happily. “Mythic is so nice, and you were too, that one time, and I’m glad that things are ok!”

Carver returned the hug good-naturedly, though she didn’t trust Minerva nearly enough to allow her to put her arms around Carver for long. Pulling out of the hug, the stripe-haired nova smiled at Minerva. “I’m glad you’re ok with me,” Carver said.

"And I'm glad to have a friend back!" Minerva grinned as she violated Carver's space again by grabbing her hand. "Come on, let me introduce you to some people."

,,

* * *

The night outside was pleasantly warm, barely retaining the last heat of the day. Light pulled out a cigarette and lit up with a flare of his power. His offer to Mythic was politely declined, and Light took a deep drag of it before saying, “Sorry, again. I would have done that differently if I had know who she was.” Mythic just nodded.

Light tried to read the man; certainly, the lean blonde was still miffed, and the brawnier nova hid a sigh. Of all the damned luck – things were definitely off to a bad start. “Look, I’ll be brutally honest,” Light said, staring at the other wrestler intently, “you need some animosity in the ring. Yeah, I know you’ve avoided it until now, but sooner or later, you have to take that step. Even Brickatron has a rival, and he's one of the nicest guys here.”

“If you want an angle with me that badly, fine,” Mythic sighed, rubbing his forehead with three fingers. “Just leave Carver out of it.”

“Well, we’ve already built that angle in,” Light argued. Part of him really wasn’t wanting to push that hard, but at the same time, she had just knocked him to the floor, and on-camera at that. Hopefully, they would edit that out, but there was the chance that it would show up on the OpNet anyway. Messing with her a little now held a certain appeal. “I mean, management might even give her a valet’s fee if she’d be willing to play along.”

“I don’t want her involved. Period,” Mythic answered, crossing his arms in a classic tough-man maneuver.

“Maybe you should ask her, instead of being all sexist about it,” Light shot back, hoping to rattle the smaller man.

Mythic smirked; there was no other word for the smile twisting his face. “I already did ask her,” he said, a subtle but clear smug tone in his voice. “She’s not interested.”

“Alright, then,” Light shrugged, “but I hope you can carry this on your own and make it real for the fans. She’d add some reality to the situation, if she were willing.” He weighed Mythic with calculating gray eyes. “Otherwise, we’re going to seem kinda flat together.”

Mythic dropped his arms, and that his hands were clenched when they rested at his side was quietly noted by Light. “You want some heat with me, that’s fine,” the shape shifter said; in the last two words, his skin turned green as his body swelled and filled out. One massive fist swung through the air in an overhand maneuver; Light took it for the camera but rolled with the punch. It still hurt, but this would be worth a little pain to get an angle. And Mythic sealed it and made it into a wonderful angle when he growled, “And if you drag Carver into this again, I’ll play with whatever pieces she leaves behind.”