DISCLAIMER: We don't own anyone in the WWF, WCW or ECW, which is too bad because they'd enjoy it.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask us first.
RATING: PG-14
CONTENT: Sex scenes and language SPOILERS: None that I know of.
SUMMARY: Two sisters find the two most unlikely brothers and fall for them.
NOTE: Thanks to Brittni for the great title!

Part 1 (Kat's POV):

As I wake up and roll over, I find my husband's side of the bed is empty. I miss him already but I know how important it is for him to get back in shape. He's been having a hard time getting back in shape and he's working very hard to do so, which means getting up very early in the morning to start working out. I admire his dedication to improve himself but I miss our early morning cuddles. I crawl out of bed and make my way to the bathroom where I quickly run my body under the cold water, waking myself up in the most hateful way. I make my way to the back of the house and the patio and to my favorite part of the house, the pool.
I take position at the short diving board and in I go. The water feels good, refreshing my body from head to toe. I do my laps as I always do, stopping only when I've done my minimum of twenty. When I peek out of the water, I see my husband sitting on the diving board at the opposite side of the pool. I smile at him and swim to him in a slow and easy crawl.
"Good morning," I whisper to him, blinking my eyes against the sun shining behind him.
"Bonjour," he answers, his accent making my toes curl as usual, "how are you this morning?"
"Good. I missed you when I woke up though."
"I almost woke you up but you looked so beautiful sleeping there. I didn't want to disturb you."
"You're too good to me," I say as I pull my body out of the water and into his arms.
"No, you're too good for me," he replies, pulling me into his lap.
"No, I'm all wet!"
"For me?"
I blush, which is hard to see under my dark skin, but I know he knows I'm flustered by his attentions. It's strange. We've been together for three years, married for two and I still have trouble admitting to myself that he loves me. It's a lack of confidence thing, I know but still. I mean, I know I have a good body and I'm fairly attractive but come on, this is Jean-Claude Van Damme, the Muscles from Brussels we're talking about here.
I'm just Katia Brandon, a nobody from Dorval, a Montreal suburb. And he loves me! It's exhilarating and daunting. But right now, my thoughts are focused on a few things. First, there's his hand on my thigh, running along it. Then, there's his other hand caressing my bare back. And finally, there's his mouth in the little hollow of my throat. How am I supposed to form a conscious thought here?
And just when I think I'm getting a break (he took his mouth off my throat), his mouth lands on mine. I would sigh if I could. Damn, his mouth is a lethal weapon. I run my fingers through his hair (he let it grow long for his latest movie) and press his mouth to mine. His tongue runs along the most sensitive spot in my mouth until I'm about to expire. Who am I? Where am I? And can this kiss last forever?
I'm Katia Brandon. I'm in my Hollywood home and of course this kiss can't last forever when the phone's ringing off the hook.
"Let's not pick it up," I whisper to him.
"It could be important," he whispers, laying kisses on my collar bone.
"Who cares?"
"Could be your mother," he teases me.
What a hateful man, I think as I slide off his lap to let him get to the phone. I watch him walk away and fall in love all over again. I remember teaching girls in my 10th grade gym class about the perfect male butt and basing my lecture on him. And now, that ass is mine. Life is good.
"Bonjour Carm," I hear him say.
I can already imagine the grin on his face and my sister's scowl. I speak fluent French because I took two years of it in high school and Carm took drama instead. Not to mention my husband speaks French all the time. But he loves teasing her by taking to her in French.
"Give me the phone," I tell him.
"Give me a second," he says, staying away from me, his grin widening. "Comment vas-tu, chère belle-soeur?"
He asked her how she was and knowing Carm, she's getting madder by the second.
"Let me speak to my sister, you frog!" I hear her yell.
"Jean-Claude, enough," I say, extending my hand for the phone. "Give the phone."
"Fine. But it was funny," he says before sitting down next to me.
"You're cute, but I gotta tell you, don't get on my sister's bad side, she's bad when she's riled."
"I'll take your word for it."
As I watch him walk back to the house, I let out a sigh. Damn but my baby's hot.
"Stop drooling," I hear my sister's ultra-sarcastic tone.
"Fine. What's up?"
"I hate your husband."
"He just wants you to improve your French."
"Whatever. We're still on for lunch?"
"Of course. You have to tell me your big news."
"Yeah," my sister says strangely. "I really do."
"I'll meet you there."

Part 2 (Carm's POV):

"O... kay."
"Don't be so wary. It's good news."
"O... kay."
"You'll see. Now, I gotta go. And tell your stupid husband to stop messing with me, please? It's not my fault I can't speak French."
"Actually… it sort of is."
"Fine. Take his side. I gotta get ready. I'll see you there."
I hang up the phone before she can say anything else. The second the phone's on the hook, I'm pulled into a tight embrace.
"You're not going anywhere."
"I have to meet my."
He cuts me off with a kiss and it's more than my words that are cut off.
My whole damn train of thought is cut off. I do get one thought, though, as my hands glide up his back, around his shoulders and down the front of his naked form. Robert Szatkowski, a.k.a., Rob Van Dam, is definitely the Whole Fuckin' Show.
His muscles flex against my bare skin as he rolls us over, him landing on top, and I almost die as his mouth moves from my mouth to my neck. And when he takes one nipple into his mouth, I gasp. He finally releases me and looks into my eyes.
"You're going... where?"
"Hum?"
I'm such a bad girl. One touch and all thoughts of my sister are gone. She'll kill me if I don't show up.
"Robby. I have to go."
"No, ya don't."
"Yeah... yeah, I do."
My breath comes in short breaths. Since I'd agreed to marry him, Rob and my sex life had picked up greatly. But, of course, that was just more reason for me to have to get to lunch. Not only did my family not know I was getting married. they hadn't even known I was dating anybody. So...
"Robby, I... I gotta go."
From somewhere inside of me, I get the guts to get out from under him and stand up. Looking at him laying there, the covers thrown back, laying naked and gorgeous. I almost jump back in the bed, but I know I can't.
"I'm gonna go shower. DON'T follow me."
Just to be safe, I lock the door. I don't even look at him as I get dressed and ready for the world. Finally, dressed in a short white sun dress, sunflowers decoratively placed, and white high-heeled sandals, I grab my little white box purse and I'm out the door.

"I'm late. I know. I got a little... preoccupied."
She just looks at me. She can't have been waiting that long. But...
"Seriously, I'm sorry. I just got..."
"Yes, I know. Preoccupied."
I sit down and not two minutes later a waitress comes over, I order a very dry vodka martini, two olives. Kat's just sitting there patiently, which is unusual for my sister. HMO... seems that husband of hers did SOMETHING useful.
"Now," she finally asks me, "what is this exciting news of yours?"
"Well... let's just say it's good news to me, it's kind of good news to you, but not very good news for Mom."
"What did you do?"
"Well... first of all, I got a job."
"Okay, why wouldn't Mom like that?"
"Because... it's in professional wresting."
"What?!?"
"It's in..."
"I heard you. I heard you. WWF or WCW?"
"Neither... ECW."
"You're with those psychos? How do you think you're going to pull that off?"
"Well... that's the other part of the good news. I'm not there alone. I'm teamed up with my new fiancé and he'll make sure I don't get hurt."
She's just looking at me and I guess I didn't slip that past her like I thought I could. Damn. I think I'm in trouble. She isn't saying anything. Just staring at me. Uh oh... um. Damn, what am I supposed to do?
"Kat? Sister dear? Are you okay?"
"Fiancé?"
"Y-yup."
"Would have been nice if I'd have known you were even dating somebody."
"Well. My bad?"
"Your bad? Definitely your bad," she sits back, closes her eyes and sighs. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"Um... be happy for me? And... help me tell Mom?"
"She's already pissed at me for marrying Jean-Claude. Now you want me to go in and help you tell her you're marrying a wrestler?" She sighs again, "you know what she's going to want to know."
"And that answer is... nope."
"Damn. Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun."
"It is... I swear. Look, you get your first chance to see him this Friday on TNN. It's our first night out together."
She's not saying anything again. I think I know what she's thinking, but I'm not sure. Do I even want to take a guess? I don't think so. So, there I sit, just waiting for her to say something. Damn, I hope she says something soon. She's starting to scare me.

Part 3 (Kat's POV):

"Was I a bad sister to you?" I ask Carm.
"What?"
"Was I a bad sister?"
"Of course not? Why do you ask?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you put me in this position."
"Come on. You could always stand up to Mom."
"Only because I'm taller than her. Carm, you know that the moment she find out... what's his name by the way?"
"Rob... well, Robert."
"Robert? You could not get a whiter name. Robert what?"
"Szatkowski?"
"Szatk-what?"
"Szatkowski."
"You don't really love him, do you? You just like pronouncing that name."
"You're fucked," Carm laughs. "I do love him."
"And?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at her.
"He loves me too."
"Good, cause you're going to be Carm Szatkow… can you at least change his last name?"
"Well, he uses a ring name you might find familiar."
"He does?"
"He's known as Rob Van Dam, the Whole Fuckin'..."
"Rob what?"
"Van Dam," says Carm, making a face.
"Van Damme?"
"It's spelled differently. His is V-A-N space D-A-M."
"I am not impressed."
"What are you getting mad for? It's not like it's his real name," says Carm with a smile to our approaching waiter.
I order and then I look at my baby sister who isn't trying very hard not to laugh. So I just keep on staring at her until she bursts out laughing. Then, I know I'm lost. She has a very infectious laugh and I can't help laughing along with her.
"It's not as bad as yours," I says, wiping tears from my eyes. "And I think it's distinguished."
"Please."
"Listen to it. Katia Van Varenberg. Sounds so nice."
"And you tell me I'm fucked."
"You are!"
Carm and I attack our appetizers, me dipping my fried calamari in the chunky tomato sauce and her with her snails in their hot butter sauce.
"So when do I get to meet this guy?"
"Well, I thought... we're in town until tomorrow morning."
"You want dinner?"
"At your house would be so perfect."
"Will you cook?"
"You know I don't cook," my sister laughs, "but you're an extremely good cook."
"I hate you," I chuckle.
"You love me."
"So you're going to introduce your wannabe Van Dam to my real deal Van Damme?"
"Yeah."
"Sparks are going to fly."
"I know. And we're going to get first row seats."
I high five my little sister and wait for my main meal to arrive.
Immediately, I start planning for tonight's dinner. What would I cook, what would I wear.
"By the way, does your fiancé know who my husband is?"
"I can't wait to get my food. I'm famished. Rob kept me up all night. I was meaning to ask you. When you agreed to marry Jean-Claude, did it kick start your sex life because Rob's been after me..."
I sit back and watch as Carm babbles on and on. I know she heard my question and I know exactly why she's avoiding it. Little assmunch, thinking she can fool me with the flurry of words. I know what I'm going to do. I am going to sit here and let her sink her own damn boat. The child deserves a spanking. I know it and she knows it. How do I know?
Well, there's that vein pulsing on her forehead and I have known her all of her life. I know when she's lying and omitting the truth and right now, she's omitting a whopper.
"I repeat," I say, interrupting her flow of words, "does your Rob know who I'm married to?"
"Well..."
"Carmaletta Brandon!"
"People are looking at us."
"You're impossible. This is exactly like that time you tore into Mom's painting and got me to tell her for you. Why didn't you tell him?"
"Honestly?"
"Yes, for one, be honest with me."
"I want to see the look on his face when he sees your hubby. It'll be precious."
I want to look angry at her. I want to be mad at her. I want to yell my head off at the little idiot, but how can I? I would pay serious amounts of cash to see the look on her Robert's face when he sees my Jean-Claude.
"Fine. Dinner at my place. Will seven be okay?"
"It'll be perfect. Should we dress up?"
"It'll just be the four of us. But be sure to brush up on your French."
"I hate that about your husband."
About an hour later, Carm and I part ways. Me to the gym I manage so I can check out business on this fine Saturday and Carm back to the hotel to get her fiancé ready. Tonight's going to be fascinating.

Part 4 (Carm's POV):

I can't believe it. I get home. and Rob's STILL in the bed. Granted, he does have a tiring job. And yes, he does work out a lot and no, he doesn't get to sleep in often, but... still... I guess I can let him sleep a little bit longer. Probably just because I want to watch him in his slumber. His golden brown hair fans the pillow. I know it's as soft as it looks and I can't help but kneel on the bed, and run my fingers through it. He feels me against his scalp and his cheek twitches lightly. I lean down and gently kiss his jumping cheek, then whisper in his ear.
"Robby… sweetie… time for wakie."
He moans and rolls over, totally facing me, eyes still closed.
"Robby…"
"Mmm... I don't wanna..."
"But, you have to."
"Why?"
"Because... we've got to get all ready to have dinner at my sister's house tonight."
"Dinner? But... didn't you just have lunch?"
"You know... you could at least open your eyes and talk."
"But. then I'd be awake."
"Robby..." My voice got slightly whiny, whereas before it was just kind of sing song. "Robby. Baby, please. It's my sister and her husband. And... she's gonna help me tell my parents about us. The least we can do is go to dinner."
As his eyes open, I'm pouting. He looks up at me, then sits up on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow.
"Aw, Carmie... don't pout."
"Why?"
"Because..."
He doesn't say anything else as he leans into me and kisses me softly and there really is nothing else to say. I can't pout after that.
"Ya. Ya gonna get up?"
"Yeah. I'll get up," he wraps his arms around me and pulls me down, "in a little bit."

We finally make it out of the bed. I need another shower, but... oh well... We take it together and... it doesn't take all THAT long. Though by the time we're washed, dressed and presentable, we've got twenty minutes before we're late. Luckily it's only a ten minute drive.
So... I've been a bad girl. I STILL haven't told Rob exactly who my sister is married to. He'd figure it out when he walked through the door.
Besides, I wasn't exactly that big of a fan of Jean-Claude. I mean, yeah, I'll give it to Kat that he was rich and gorgeous and he treated her like a princess... but he was just so mean to me! He knows I can't speak French. which is exactly why he does it to me.
Be that as it may. he's still my brother-in-law and in reality, he hasn't been all that mean to me. In fact, we usually get along pretty good. I haven't seen him in a while, though, so it'll be good to see him again.
As we pull up to the house, I just let Rob's jaw drop. It really is a gorgeous home. It's... just... well. huge! And that's just the view from the outside. Well. they can afford it and Kat loves it there. I turn to Rob finally and pull him along, and go up to the door. I ring the doorbell and wait patiently for Kat to open the door.
As the door opens, I see Jean-Claude standing behind my sister, a fake smile on his face. I turn my head to look at Rob and see why the fake smile is there. he's got one exactly like it plastered on his face.
Now, anybody who has seen both Jean-Claude Van Damme and Rob Van Dam can see the resemblance between the two and that's why I hadn't told him beforehand. I wanted to get his honest reaction. though it's not the one I had expected.
They seem to like... NOT... like each other. That's not supposed to happen. Especially when they haven't even spoken. I can almost swear I hear a growl coming out of my Robby. This isn't like him. I actually had thought it would be funny, having the Van Dam(me)s of the world together. Guess not. I look up to my sister, my head cocked to the side, with one question in my eyes. What do we do with them now?

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