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Needful XIV:  Good Times  
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 Hunter Hearst Helmsley was not a happy man, not by any stretch 
of the imagination.  Sure, giving Steve Austin a little shock had 
been fun, hilarious even, but now he was right back where he had 
started from.  Shane was still mad at him and avoiding him like he
had the plague, and now Steve and Shane were together again, sharing
what looked to be a very intimate conversation with Hunter trying to
listen in from a distance.  He growled inwardly in frustration, this
would go so much easier when Shane went back to realizing what a 
_jerk_ Steve Austin was.  What did Shane-O see in him anyhow?  Did 
he think Steve was cuter then him?

 Nah, not possible.  Steve was _bald_ for Chrissakes.  

 Shane reached out to touch Steve's arm, and Hunter's eyes 
narrowed.  He didn't like it.  Not at all.




 "Sorry I had to cancel on you the other night, hope you aren't
pissed at me," Shane said, keeping his voice light as wrestlers walked
a narrow path around them.  

 Austin shook his head vaguely, and returned Shane's smile.  He 
had already figured that Hunter had laid some sort of elaborate trap
for him, and he didn't want to bother Shane about it.  But, he couldn't
help but be somewhat suspicious.  What the hell had the big-nosed
bastard meant about having something with Shane that Steve would never
touch?  He hadn't liked the sounds of that.

 "Shit happens, we can take a rain check," Austin assured.  He 
paused briefly, unable to hide the scowl on his face.  "Um, look - I 
have a match coming up, but there's something I want to ask you about.
How 'bout we grab a beer after the show?"

 Noting the Rattlesnake's scowl, Shane gave a slow nod, "OK, but
that sounds kinda serious, Stoney - I'm not in trouble am I?" 

 "'Stoney'?" 

 Shane grinned.

 "Damn, son, don't you be giving me no stupid pet names now.  I'll
just see ya later."  Then, in a move that surprised both men, Austin 
reached forward and pulled the younger man into a tight hug, which was
returned after Shane got over his initial shock.  Austin patted his 
back roughly and nodded a goodbye before taking off down the hall as
Shane stared after him with a somewhat goofy smile.

 "You want to tell me just what it is you see in that moron?"

 Jumping at the sudden voice, Shane spun around to find himself
almost nose to nose with Hunter.  Quickly re-gaining his composure,
Shane frowned and took a few steps back from the other man, "None
of your goddamn business, Helmsley."

 "Come on, Shane!" Hunter closed the space in between them,
and gestured in the direction that Austin had left, "We use to plot
against that guy!  He was the joke, remember?"

 "Yeah, I remember," Shane snapped, suddenly angrily.  He pushed
the other man back a few steps and followed closely.  "Back when we 
were _fucking_, right?  When I did every damn thing I could do to 
make sure you got every _chance_ at the title, and for what?  So that 
when you did get it and lose it, you could turn on me?  Stab me in the 
back?  Come after my family and friends?  Well, fuck YOU, Hunter!  
You're the joke!  You're the moron!  At least with Steve Austin, I 
_know_ where he's coming from."

 Growling low in his throat, Hunter just shook his head,
unconsciously stepping back in the face of Shane's fury.  He just
couldn't bring himself to hit the guy, he still felt bad about
pushing Shane into those steel stairs, he hadn't meant to do it.
And then, before he could even help the kid up, that jackass Test
had to hit him with a fucking chair.  "Austin just wants to get in 
your pants," he muttered.

 Shane smiled, a little cruelly.  "And what makes you think that 
I have any problems with that?"  The heir apparent watched as a 
variety of emotions played across the Game's face, before it fell 
back into the unreadable mask that he had always hated.  He felt 
himself being pushed back, not very hard, as Hunter nudged past him, 
his footsteps echoing down the hallway long after he had disappeared.

 Shane's smile fell.  "Damn it."






 "Are you sure that this is such a good idea?"

 "It's a _great_ idea."

 Pete rolled his eyes, "Abbs, when was the last time one of your
little pranks worked, huh?  This is just gonna backfire on us."  He
held up the plastic shopping bag as if to prove his point and waved it
in front of his face.

 The blonde haired posse member nodded in agreement, crossing his
tattooed arms across his chest.  "Yeah, man - I say we just pants her 
on RAW or something.  This is just gonna get us in trouble with Vince."

 "Vince likes us!" Joey said with a smirk, "Besides, 'we're rich
punks that can get away with anything', remember?"
 
 Now it was Rodney's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm sorry I ever 
said that."

 Joey just snickered and continued work on Chyna's dressing room
door, jimmying the lock with his credit card, and causing the whole
door to rattle loudly.

 "Well, dude - if you're gonna do it, do it right!" Pete chucked
his friend out of the way and took the gold card from him.  A few
moments later there was an audible click and the door swung open on
Pete's triumph look and Joey's indignant scowl.  "Viola!  Learn from
someone that knows what they're doing."

 "I almost had it," Joey insisted.

 "You had nothing!" Pete flicked the card back towards the 
offended Posse member and raised his arms in triumph.  

 Grumbling incoherently, Joey pushed past his still smirking
friend to walk into Chyna's dressing room.  
 
 "So, I heard you made out with Shane."

 There was a dull thud as Pete walked into the door.
 





 Wrestlers and officials alike hugged the walls as Hunter 
stormed past them, barreling down the hallway snorting fire and
brimstone.  He was in a more pissed off mood then usual, and no one 
was going to be stupid enough to test him.  

 Kicking a garbage can and a cooler for being in his way,
the blonde wrestler slammed open his dressing room door and stood in
the middle of the room for a moment, trying to calm his frayed nerves.
Damn that Shane, why did he have to be so STUPID?  Couldn't he see
that Hunter was sorry for what had happened between them in the past?
That he didn't really _mean_ any of it?  

 Losing the belt had been hard for him, especially after 
all he had gone through to get it, so of course he'd done everything 
it had taken to try and get it back.  But Shane had to take it all 
the wrong way, he had to misunderstand _everything_.  And now what?  
He was screwing Steve Fucking Austin of all people.  Hunter's #1 
competitor for the belt.

 Crap.  He flopped down onto the couch and grunted.  Double crap.

 He hadn't _meant_ to hurt Shane, he had really _liked_ Shane.  
But he had to admit to himself, that at that time, Shane had been the
last thing on his mind.  All he had wanted was his belt back, 
everything else had gone on the back burner.  And if Shane knew him 
as well as he thought he had, he should of understood that.  Still...
Hunter had to admit, that he shouldn't of attacked and threatened 
Vince, or beat up on the Posse.  But he wasn't about to apologize for
it either.

 But now what did he have?  Shane was mad at him, and he STILL
wasn't any closer to that belt.  Big Show was champ and the Big
Bossman of all the stupid, talentless mid-carders, was number one
contender.  Hunter grinded his teeth.

 No, not good at all.  And who's fault was all this?

 Steve Austin was the first person that came to mind, so Hunter
ran with it.  A small, rational part of his mind realized that the
concept made no sense, but he hushed it impatiently.  Nope, defintely
all Steve's fault.  

 Hunter pouted.  





 "What did you do?!"

 The posse only smiled, looking like they had just eaten a flock
of canaries.  Joey blinked innocently.  "Do?  We did something?" He
looked at Rodney and Pete who had twin expressions of ignorance on 
their faces.  "Guys, did we _do_ something?"

 Rodney shrugged, "Gee, Joey, I don't remember....Pete, do you
remember?"

 Pete scratched his head, squinted in thought.  "I don't know,
Rod, I think I would remember if we did.  Shane, buddy, pal, maybe 
we'd have a better time remembering if you told us what you meant."

 Could he ever stay mad at these guys?  Shane felt his anger
melt away and he shook his head as he closed the door behind him.
"I'm talking about _Chyna_."

 At the mention of her name, the room was filled with a chorus
of "ohhhhhs" and yet more innocent looks.  "Chyna?  What about her?"
Joey asked, smiling happily at his friend.  "She fall into a toilet
or something?"

 This earned him a smack from Rodney, who gave him an impatient
look.  "Don't be stupid, man!  Everyone knows that Chyna pees 
standing up like the rest of us men."

 Joey nodded, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity.  "Of 
course.  Sorry."

 Shane snickered, then let his face fall back into it's 
'business' mask.  "Rodney, Peter, Joesph...you guys are my posse,
but you're also my employees.  Be straight up with me, and tell me
what you did to Chyna to make her so upset.  She's out there looking
for you, ready to tear you limb from limb!"

 "Well..." Pete looked at Joey, "It was his idea, I say he gets
to tell you the good news."

 Shane turned to look at the said posse member, and crossed his
arms across his chest.  "Go on."

 "Maybe...we sorta...replaced all her panties with jock straps."

 Shane raised an eyebrow.

 "And drew mustaches on her posters," Rodney offered.

 "Put Viagra in her birth control pills."

 "Left a blow-up doll on her couch."

 "And sorta...donated all her clothes to charity - but she
deserved it!" Joey finished.

 There was a brief silence as the three posse members waited for
Shane's reaction.  The heir apparent had managed to keep his face 
blank the entire time, and now he paced the dressing room slowly; a 
moving shadow of immaculate black Armani.  "Hm."

 "'Hm'?" Joey squeaked.  He knew from past experience that 
Shane had the tendency to throw his Corporate weight around when 
necessary, and the last thing he wanted was to end up fighting Sean 
Stasiak on "Metal".

 Shane tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Why'd ya do it?"

 Speaking up first, Rodney glowered dramatically, "She barricaded
us into our dressing room that time!  She interfered in our business!"

 "Yeah, she's been asking for it," Pete grumbled.  "You could of
gotten your ass kicked out there."

 "So this was about me?" Shane blinked, "Guys, I can take care of
myself.  And trust me, bombing Hunter's soulmate is not going to make
things easier for me."

 "Not just about you," Joey defended, he smirked.  "We liked 
doing it too - so she was really mad, huh?"

 Laying on the charm extra thick, Shane smiled and gestured 
grandly, "Fucking POed, my brothers!  Lets just say that when I ran 
into her, the words 'your friends', 'posse', and 'castration' were
used in the same sentence.  Normally, I'd cut pay, but I got the 
feeling that she's going to punish you dudes more then enough without
me."
 
 "Yeah, well - we're just getting started," Rodney said, and
the rest of the posse nodded in agreement.

 Shane just shook his head, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear
that.  In the meantime, I'm outta here.  Guys - please?  Try to avoid
her for tonight, I don't want to have to deal with this again."

 A look of protest started to rise, but Shane's glance silenced
them.  "Where you going?" Joey asked instead.

 "Meeting Austin," Shane said as he smoothed out his suit.  His
lips twitched briefly, "I think he's mad at me about something, so I
gotta be nice to him tonight."

 Shaking his head in amazement, Joey sighed, "Shane, one of these
days - someone's going to say 'no' to you."

 "No they won't." Shane smiled and walked out.

 




 
     Steve Austin tapped his mug of beer nervously with the tips of
his fingers as he waited for Shane to show up.  Luckily, the hotel
bar was somewhat deserted with only a few lingering patrons roaming
about the musty quarters.  It was past one in the morning, all decent
people were probably asleep.  

     Mentally, he ran over what he would tell Shane.  He just hoped 
that he didn't come off sounding like an idiot.  Steve felt himself 
flush in embarrassment already and cursed himself for it.  "Stupid...
stupid...stupid..."

     The bartender blinked and looked over his shoulder.  "Hey, you
talking to me?"

     "Does it _look_ like I'm talking to you?" Steve snapped, 
glaring down the flustered older man before returning to his drink.
Stupid bartender.  Shane quickly popped back into his head and he
felt his anger melt away to frustration as he glanced at the clock.
Shane would be here any minute now, he had to get his head together.

     "'Son, I got something to tell you.'  What?  No, stupid -
don't call him 'son'.  Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" Austin grunted and 
threw back his head to take another drink.  "Okay, 'Shane, I'm 
gonna be straight with you, kid...I - '..." Austin's voice trailed
off when he saw that the bartender was giving him a strange look.
"What?  WHAT?  I'm not talking to you, damn it!"

     Letting out a short jump of surprise the bartender nodded and
took off to the other end of the bar, trying his best to avoid the
Rattlesnake's hot glare all the way.

     "Damn nosy bartender." 

     "Making new friends I see."  Steve turned at the new voice,
and greeted Shane with a curt nod as the younger man approached him
and pushed himself up onto a barstool.  Shane smiled winningly and
looked down at Austin's half finished beer.  "Hey, that looks good.
I think I'll have one of those..."

     Austin stopped Shane before he could call over the bartender
by holding his wrist firmly with one hand.  "I reserved us a room,"
he said, voice husky and low.  "Let's go up and talk."

     Feeling his skin flush and his pulse jump at Austin's touch,
Shane moved in closer and licked his lips in anticipation.  
"'Talk'?"

     "Yeah.  Talk."  Steve looked at Shane firmly, and the heir
apparent frowned.
    
     "You really just want to talk, don't you?"  It sounded more
like an accusation then a question, and Shane sighed before the
Rattlesnake could answer.  "Okay, you said you wanted to tell me
something, let's go then.  But ... don't be surprised if I don't 
let you walk outta there until morning."
    
     Was it Shane's imagination or did Steve Austin just gulp?
"Okay."
    
    
    




    
         "Huh huh huh, we did her good, huh huh huh."
    
         "Heh heh heh, you said 'did her', heh heh heh."
    
         The Posse had not left the dressing room since Shane's 
    departure, preferring to instead lounge around the couch and 
    talk about their latest 'conquest'.  None of them were willing to
    admit that they were somewhat afraid of leaving the room, and 
    running into a laying in wait Chyna.  After all, Chirs Jericho
    still walked with a limp.
    
         "Hey, Rod - pass me another beer," Pete said, holding his
    hands up like a catcher to receive.
    
         Rodney reached into the cooler next to the couch blindly and 
    pulled out the cool can.  Throwing his arm up to throw, he 
    hesitated then smirked.  "Gee, I don't know Pete, I would but then 
    you might make out with me."
    
         Joey snickered and watched as his friend turned an 
    interesting shade of pink, then red.  "Aw, you made him blush Rod."
    
         Turning a threatening finger on Joey, Pete shook his head,
    "You're a dead man for doing this to me, ya hear?  Why don't you
    give _Shane_ this hard a time for going out with Steve Austin."
    
         "'Cause Shane's our fearless leader.  You're just a sweater
    wearing yuppie like the rest of us," Rodney smirked.  "Besides, 
    you're so much more fun to rag on then Shane."
    
         Pete stuck his tongue out a la X-Punk.  "I was stoned, I'm
    allowed to do whacky, teenage things when I'm stoned.  Besides, 
    it's not as if I _liked_ it or anything."
    
         The other two posse members exchanged looks.  Joey smiled
    innocently.  "Really?  Not even a little?"
    
         "No!"
    
         "Not just a tad bit?"
    
         "No!"
    
         "Well, then buddy boy - the way I see it - you would of 
    stopped at just a kiss.  From the way Shane told it - you were
    well onto third base." Joey howled with laughter and high-fived
    Rodney who was getting red in the face from holding back his own
    chuckles.  "You know, Jenny's gonna be pissed when I tell her 
    that you're gay."
    
         Pete sputtered, "I'm not gay!  Jesus Christ, Abbs, one 
    little teenage indiscretion and you already have me marching in 
    a parade.  What, you never experimented?"
    
         The comment caused Joey to puff up and he sniffed 
    indignantly.  "I did not."
    
         "Fuck you, everyone has."
    
         "Well, _I_ haven't."  Sensing dangerous waters, Joey 
    turned his attention to Rodney who was lazily picking at the lint 
    on his dark green sweater vest.  "What about you, Rod?  Have you 
    ever swapped spit with another dude?"
    
         Rodney seemed to think for a moment.  "Sure, I kissed Shane
    once too."
    
         Twin sets of jaws dropped to the floor and Rodney went back
    to picking at his sweater, yawning widely.  "I'm hungry - let's 
    go grab a slice of pizza."
    
         As he stood to go, Joey just shook his head in amazement, 
    "Am the _only_ one that hasn't kissed Shane?"
    
         Pete, who was feeling silly for a short pang of jealousy at 
    the news, gave Rodney an odd look.  And here he thought that _he_ 
    was the only posse member for Shane.  Well, some men.  "Being
    stoned was my excuse, dude - what's yours?"
    
         Rodney shrugged, "No excuse.  I was curious, asked Shane if
    he'd lay one on me - and he did."
    
         Still trying to process the information, Joey continued to
    shake his head.
    
         "Come on, I'm hungry - let's eat!" Rodney whined.  
    "Depriving me of food is only going to hurt yourselves."
    
         "Okay, okay," Pete grumbled getting to his feet.  "But no
    pizza - I'm sick of pizza."
    
         Joey continued to frown, and reached out to open the door.
    
         And saw a brick wall.
        
         Three men froze at what they saw, unsure at first what to
    think.  
    
         "Oh shit."
    
         They were walled in.  "Gentlemen," Joey said gravely. "This, 
    is war."
    
    
    
    
         "So what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Steve?" Shane
    asked as he lounged back on the king sized bed; shoes kicked off,
    jacket swung over a chair, and the first three buttons of his shirt 
    undone.  He grinned, "Nothing too serious I hope."
    
         Austin fiddled with his own  jacket, seeming to get momentarily 
    tangled in the arms before he finally got it off and placed it with
    Shane's.  "Um, look - I know you probably don't want to talk about
    this and that it's none of my damn business anyway, so if you want 
    to tell me to piss off I'll understand that.  But...about Hun'er."
    
        Noticibley stiffening at the mention of the blonde degenerate,
    Shane made a face and looked down at his lap.  "Yeah, I was um, 
    going to bring that up anyway.  So how'd you find out about us?"
    
         Flashing back to the night before, and realizing that Shane
    would only take it the worst possible way, Austin quickly moved on.
    "Not important, I can just tell that you two got some sort of 
    history going."
    
         Shane nodded, "Yeah, I guess so.  Well, um - there's not much
    to tell really.  We had something once, I helped him get the title -
    he stabbed me in the back when he lost it.  So, the whole thing blew
    up in our faces and now I spend my time avoiding him."  He shrugged
    lightly, fell back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling.  "He claims
    that we have something worth saving, which is horseshit - we don't,
    but he can be a little hard-headed about it."  Shane looked up to stare
    Austin in the eye, "But it's nothing that I can't handle on my own,
    Steve."
    
         "Like I said, son, none of my business.  Guess I was just 
    curious is all."  Steve stood at the foot of the bed, staring down 
    at the younger man with a unreadable expression on his face.  Shane
    smiled and crawled up into a sitting position, moved to the foot of
    the bed and pulled Austin closer by the waist of his jeans.
    
         A light tug and his shirt came untucked, and Shane ran his 
    hands underneath and up the flat plain of stomach and chest, 
    producing a light shiver of pleasure from the other man.  Shane
    titled his head up for a kiss, touching his lips lightly and then
    harder.  Steve relished the feel of the soft, wet mouth against his
    own and moved his arms up to hold Shane McMahon closer.
    
         Fingers brushed over his nipples and Austin gasped audibly,
    increased his grip on the other man as he started to push him back
    onto the bed, taking a handful of the thick, silky strands.  His 
    hand traced up the inside of his leg, feeling the curves and 
    muscles, and Shane sighed in content.  His hand was strong, and
    so nice.  The touch speaking of a passage from enemy, to friend, 
    to something more.  Austin couldn't remember the last time he felt
    so nervous and so fucking turned on.  As Shane moved and moaned
    underneath him, he wondered if now would be a good time to tell 
    him.
    
         Shane's mouth on his earlobe emptied his head of all logical
    thought and he moved into the touch like a stretching cat.  He 
    could always tell him later, and maybe it wouldn't be necessary to
    tell him at all.
    
         The hand at his baseball jersey had just started to creep
    down to the waist of his jeans when the sound of a shrill cell
    phone caused both men to jump at its suddenness.  Shane grimaced
    and eyed an apology before reaching into his pocket for the
    offensive device.  Austin swallowed hard and rolled off of him,
    lying down on his side next to the younger man.  As Shane talked,
    he couldn't help but run his hand underneath the black shirt and
    feel the smooth expanse of back, running his fingers over the 
    light dimples and bones.  This body was just so amazing, Steve's
    expression softened significantly as he continued his explorations.
    It was so _different_ then he was use to.  But at the same time,
    very familiar.
    
         "What!?  Fuck, no way.  Jesus Christ Joey, I fucking KNEW
    this would happen," Shane sounded angry as he threw himself onto
    his feet and started to pull his clothes together.  He gave Austin
    another apologetic/regretful look.  "Yeah, yeah - I'll be right
    over.  No, you won't run out of air, those rooms are vented."  He
    ended the call with a growl, hitting the 'end' button harder then
    necessary.  "I have to go," he told Steve with a frown.  "There's
    a...situation down at the arena."
    
         Austin raised an eyebrow, propped himself up on his elbow.
    "Problem?"
    
         "Yeah, you can say that."  Shane rolled his eyes.  "Look, I
    gotta go take care of this, but believe me when I say that if I 
    could, I would stay here."
    
         Feeling an odd disappointed relief and sense of loss from 
    the warm body being detached from his own, Austin merely nodded
    mutely.  "Can you come back?"
    
         "It depends how things go," Shane said with a grimace.  "I
    might have to have a few...words...with someone."
    
         "What kind of words?"
    
         "Corporate/Angry Friend/McMahon kind of words," Shane 
    smiled.  "Hey, don' worry about it - I got it covered."  Tucking
    his shirt in, Shane leaned over and kissed Steve gently on the
    mouth, and sighed.  "You...I like you."
    
         Steve scratched his head.  "Hell, I like you too.  I
    wouldn't be here if I didn't like you."
    
         "Thanks.  Okay, see you as soon as I see you."  Shane
    tossed a wave and then was out the door in a flash, leaving 
    Austin staring after him; his confession on the tip of his
    tongue.
    
         Well, at least now he had some more time to rehearse what 
    he would say.
    
    
    
    
    
         Shane arrived at the arena fifteen minutes later, 
    barreling down the hallway at top speed with an sledgehammer in hand.
    Surprisingly, no one got in his way.
    
         When he got to his Posse's dressing room, and saw the
    giant brick wall that had been painstakingly applied over the
    door, Shane just shook his head in amazement.  How had Chyna
    managed to do this without disrupting the boys?  She had even
    spray-painted a surprisingly impressive series of characateurs
    of the Mean Street Posse in a various array of humiliating 
    positions.  Shane was pretty sure that Pete was not THAT
    flexible.
    
         "Guys?!  Can you hear me?!"  There was a muffled 
    affirmative, and Shane placed the sledgehammer between his knees to spit
    on his hands and roll up his sleeves.  "Get away from the door!"
    
         Grabbing the sledgehammer firmly, Shane swung back and started to
    break away at the wall, watching in satisfaction as it started
    to give away piece by piece.  After a while, he established a
    rhythm and realized that the whole experience was rather
    therapeutic.  Next time when he felt stressed, he would spare the
    800 dollar psychology bill and just break down a few walls.
    
         Soon, a small hole the size of a golfball evolved into a
    baseball.  Then a bowling ball, until finally, a few kicks and
    swings took the whole thing down all together and a grateful
    looking posse stumbled out into the hallway.  
    
         Rodney quickly scrambled to the bathroom, while Pete 
    muttered something about needing some air.  Joey smiled 
    sheepishly at his friend who had worked up a sweat and was
    panting hard.  "Hey, thanks, man."
     
         Shane just continued to stare silently, swinging the sledgehammer
    up so that it rested on his shoulder.  Joey went on, flushing a
    deeper and deeper red as he did.  "We didn't even HEAR her out
    here!  She's going to pay, Shane, really - you won't hear 
    another peep out of any one of us about this, I swear.  Um, we
    didn't interrupt anything, did we?"
    
         Again, Shane found that he was unable to stay mad at his
    friend, and he threw the sledgehammer down with a lazy smile.  "Joey,
    if you end up swimming with the fishes - I won't be able to 
    dive in after you."
    
         Returning the smile with a note of relief, Joey threw an
    arm around his friend's shoulders.  "Mac Daddy, Chyna will NOT
    get the last laugh."
    
         "Uh huh, whatever.  Look - just keep me out of this, 
    okay?  And try to remember - usually where there's a Chyna, 
    there's a Triple H."
    
         "We can take care of them."
    
         Shane just nodded in a 'yeah sure' way and gave his 
    friend a long, thoughtful sideways glance.  "Oh you do, huh?  
    Well, who's room do you think I got this sledgehammer from?"