When the cell was lifted and Dave walked up the ramp still in possession of the belt that he'd had always believed belonged to him, he'd thought that his life was over. There had been nothing in his life more important than keeping his belt, protecting his power, cementing his place in history, and keeping up the façade that was his marriage for almost longer than he could remember. He was sure that they were all connected like links of a chain and to loose one would destroy them all. He was so intent on the importance of them all that he'd never stopped to consider that he might be wrong.

So when it was all over, when the last match between them was finished and Dave's dues were all paid up leaving The Game empty handed, Paul didn't know what to do. As if that weren't bad enough, while the trainer was putting stitches into his head, his lovely wife declared that they'd decided he needed some time off.

Over exposed…

That was their reasoning.

To Paul it sounded like a death sentence for his career.

What was he supposed to do with time off? He had no life outside of wrestling, no friends that weren't in the business, and no clue how to be a "normal person". That was his dear father-in-law's suggestion. "Go be a normal person, son."

As if it were that simple…

So…

He'd gone under much protest to his big home and sat around on his expensive leather couch in his underwear. He didn't shave. He didn't go to the gym. He didn't eat anything that was good for him.

… And after a week or two he realized some things.

You might call them self realizations or the fog clearing in his brain or some other poetic phrase that one of those imaginative people would come up with. He was sure Jeff would have some creative thing to call it, but he doubted that the Hardy Boy would answer if he called and at the time he supposed it didn't really matter.

The first thing that hit him was that he actually didn't miss busting his ass in the gym every day. He was lying in bed at noon trying to decide if he was hungry or sleepy when he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he worked out. Rolling over he frowned at the ceiling as a hand snuck under the covers to scratch himself idly. Not only did he not miss his aggressive workout schedule, but he didn't miss the stress of the backstage dramas either. He didn't miss the frustration of being the bad guy because everyone assumed he was responsible for every bad decision even though most of the time it was one of Stephanie's bad ideas.

The second thing that came to him was while he was looking over his CD collection looking for something that wasn't Motorhead to put in. He didn't miss that whiny annoying voice of his wife's. Not only did he not miss her voice, but he also didn't miss her. He had never been under any misconception that he and Stephanie shared some great love, but he didn't realize just how much he disliked her until he didn't have to deal with her all of the time. He didn't like the way she thought she could manipulate him as if he didn't see it coming a mile away. Paul had been manipulated for years before he even met Stephanie by people who were pros at it. He didn't like the snide little comments she made about him in public that she thought were cute and all her little bitch friends laughed at. He liked it even less when she did it in front of the boys. He didn't like the way she blamed him every time she thought that her boobs weren't big enough and made them bigger and he really didn't like the way she dressed because she thought she looked "sexy". He'd always wanted to tell her that he thought she looked like a street walker, but didn't have the guts. He'd smiled anticipating the next time she called.

As that thought went through his head he frowned and looked at the calendar on his cell phone. It was exactly twelve days from the last time that he talked to her. The last thing she'd said were those words…. Over exposed… in that snide voice of hers. He tried hard to find some remorse in his heart. He'd searched for some small part of himself that missed something about her, but it just didn't exist. He did miss someone alright, but it wasn't her.

…And that one didn't come as quickly as the other two.

He missed Dave.

He'd been standing in the meat department of his local fresh market waiting for the butcher to wrap up his huge porterhouse when it hit him like a ton of bricks. The realization was so vivid that he'd actually taken out his phone and dialed the big man's number before he realized what he was doing. "Hello? Who's there?" He heard recognizing Dave's deep sexy drawl immediately. Quickly he hung up and reached out to take his meat as the discomfort in his pants pointed out how much he enjoyed the sound of Dave's voice.

He didn't just miss him, he needed him. He longed for him. Hell he was in love with him.

Damn

He was in love with Dave Batista.

It took a couple of more weeks for him to become comfortable with the notion but once he did…

He began to plot…

He began to plan…

The Cerebral Assassin set his sights on The Animal only this time there wouldn't be an audience for the big finale.

"I'm coming for you."

He could still see that look on Dave's face. The panic… the fear,,, the thrill. Paul knew that this was not going to be easy, but he was going to enjoy every minute of it. Maybe he'd call Mark to get some pointers and to make sure he would take care of Randy when Dave was no longer his.

And his Dave would become.

Because he was The Game and he never failed at the things that were really important.

The End!

Read Story #3 in the Tema & Desejo series Anger Unleashed