Every Road Starts Somewhere
Summary: One evening on her way home from work, Elizabeth-Belle Baxter happens across a stranded Dave Batista. After both making false assumptions of each other, Elizabelle reluctantly agrees to join Dave for dinner, as repayment of her fixing his car. While the couple get to know each other better, it seems this may be the start of a more lasting relationship for the pair. One-shot. Batista/OFC.
Rating: M for sexual situations.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way lay claim to any name or character in the WWE. This is entirely not-for-profit fiction. Original character of Elizabeth-Belle Baxter is copyright of wandaXmaximoff, 2008.
Personalities presented within are not necessarily those of the characters in real life nor are the views presented within necessarily those of the author.
Poetic license has been taken with character personas. Therefore, even though this fic is based on "reality," I have not entirely used wrestlers' real history or their families' names and history. I am highly uncomfortable doing so as wrestlers' personal lives are none of my business. No disrespect meant for those authors who do, simply personal belief on my part. This means, that, even though Batista was married in real life with two children and that I have written him as previously married with two children in this fic, the ex-wife and children are not his actual family and are subsequently characters I've made up.
This fic is for Gin, the wonderful Disco Inferno1 (user id 339498). She has been an amazing friend to me over the years, as well the best beta reader I've ever worked with. I can't imagine my life or the world of fanfic without her. That said, this fic has little substance beyond explaining how the OFC I created in her honor met Batista and it's meant to be that way. It's an all-out fun one-shot tailored for one of my best friends.
Additionally, the character of Elizabelle was originally conceived to be included in a chaptered story I'm currently working on, in which she will be married to Dave. However, I wanted to get a better understanding of what she's like as a person, and how her relationship with Dave began, so I decided to write this one-shot exploring that.
Finally, I have to thank my good friend Kim and her husband Matt for their invaluable help when I was trying to come up with a motorbike make and model for Elizabelle. Without their knowledge, my understanding of cars and bikes would have failed miserably.
On the 75/85 Interstate in Atlanta, Georgia, Elizabelle was creeping along the line of traffic on her 1974 Triumph T140 Bonneville, when she noticed a sleek, red, Audi convertible parked off to the side. Its hood was popped up, and smoke was issuing from its engine.
Standing next to the vehicle was a muscular man - with tanned skin and dark hair – who appeared to be in his late thirties. He was dressed in smart, expensive looking, suit pants. However, the matching jacket had been discarded and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Additionally, the front of the garment was unbuttoned to reveal the crisp white vest underneath, almost as though the man in question had stopped and tried to fix his car himself, but to no avail.
Elizabelle pulled over and parked her motorbike a couple of yards in front the obviously broken down Audi. Then, she took off her helmet, and strode over to the vehicle's owner.
"Need any help there, sugah?" she asked, her accent betraying the fact that she was a native to the state.
The man quickly fumbled with his PDA – which he'd been using the 'WiFi' services on to search for local garages – and slid it into his pants pocket.
"Yeah, actually, you can. Do you know any local garages that might still be open now? I tried calling Baxter's, but apparently, I was too late and the owner has already closed up for the day."
A brief hint of a grin passed over Elizabelle's lips at the mention of Baxter's.
"I've got a better idea. Why don'cha let me take a look?" she offered pleasantly.
The car owner hesitated for a second, wondering if it was possible that a woman could actually fix a problem he'd been unable to resolve himself. Then, he remembered that she'd arrived on an impressive looking motorbike, and put his faith in the hope that she might know a thing or two about cars.
"Erm, yeah, sure. If you think it'll help?"
Elizabelle nodded, placed her helmet on the pavement, then pulled her dirty blonde hair back into a ponytail and tied it with the band she'd been wearing on her wrist.
As the car's owner watched in astonishment, Elizabelle bent over the engine and then began examining it with care.
After a few moments of prodding around, and adjusting various knobs and levers, she straightened up and then smiled at the man.
"That's your problem right there, your fanbelt's broken," she informed, pointing to the strip of rubber inside the engine that had appeared to have snapped. "I can get you a new one if you'd like?"
"What? How did you figure out it was my fanbelt so quickly? And how will you get me a new one at this time of day? Every garage in town has probably closed up for the evening."
Elizabelle grinned, and then extended her hand to him. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Elizabeth-Belle Baxter, and I own the garage you were tryin' to call before I pulled over."
Momentarily, the dark-haired man looked utterly shocked. But then, his surprise was replaced with a look of guilt.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made the false assumption that you didn't know what you were talking about. It's just, I work with the type of women who would never get their hands dirty for fear of breaking a nail," he justified, holding his hands out in an apologetic manner. "I'm Dave Batista, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Dave Batista. And don't worry about assumin' the wrong thing of me. I've had men thinkin' I'm a weak little woman for the past twenty years of my life. I'm use to it by now."
For a brief instance, a look of bitterness flashed across Elizabelle's eyes, and Dave sheepishly averted his gaze from hers.
"No, seriously. I'm sorry if I offended you in anyway," he insisted.
Elizabelle recovered herself quickly, and turned to him with a bright smile.
"Like I said, it doesn't matter. Now, c'mon, let's get this fanbelt fixed. You'll be okay on your own for ten minutes, won'cha? While I nip back to the garage and get you a replacement belt."
"Sure, that's fine. How much will I owe you for the new one?"
"No charge. I'm not on work time now, so just call it a favor from a friendly local."
Dave was about to object, and insist that he at least had to pay her for the new part – if not the time she'd be taking to fit it too – when he reconsidered and had a better idea.
He didn't want to offend Elizabeth again by saying the wrong thing to her, and he'd just come up with the perfect way for him to repay the favor... that was, if she agreed.
Forty minutes later, Elizabelle had returned from her garage and successfully fitted the new fanbelt into Dave's car, which was now working perfectly.
As she rubbed the oil from her hands with an old rag, and bent to pick up her helmet, Dave voiced the idea he'd had earlier.
"Listen, I know you said you didn't want payment for fixing my car, but how about I take you out for dinner instead?"
Elizabelle began shaking her head negatively, when Dave forestalled her.
"I won't take no for an answer," he challenged, with a crooked grin. "Seriously, you really saved my ass there. If it wasn't for you, I'd have been completely late for work. At least now, I'll get there in time for my match."
"Your match?" Elizabelle questioned with confusion, wondering what type of profession this guy actually had.
"Yeah, I'm a professional wrestler for the WWE, and we've got a show tonight at the Georgia Dome," he explained, before being hit by a sudden source of inspiration. "I know, why don't you come to the arena with me? I'm sure I could get you a last minute ticket for the event. Then you could watch the show and I'll take you out for dinner afterwards."
Elizabelle hesitated for a moment, but then curiosity got the better of her. She'd loved wrestling as a child, but hadn't watched a show in about ten years, so she thought it'd be nice to see what the wrestling business was like now. Plus, this Dave Batista seemed intriguing and she couldn't deny, she'd like the chance to get to know him better.
"Alright, then. You're on," she agreed with a grin.
When they arrived at the Georgia Dome, Dave signed in at the front desk – leaving a message for the backstage management that he'd arrived late, but was in time for his match – and then arranged a seat for Elizabelle, so that she could watch the show.
With some spare places still available in the arena - and due to Dave's position within the company - he was able to secure a front row seat for Elizabelle with little effort.
After pointing Elizabelle in the direction of the spectator area of the arena – and agreeing to meet her back at the main entrance when the show had ended – Dave hurried backstage, and to the lockerroom so that he could change for his match.
"Hey, man," Randy Orton greeted as his friend entered the dressing room. "What kept you so long? Gerwitz was going crazy, thinking he'd have to rearrange the end of the show because you weren't here yet."
"My car broke down on the 75/85 Interstate on my way here," Dave explained, as he stripped off his shirt and vest. "The fanbelt snapped and I had to get a new one fitted."
"Damn. You're lucky to have found a garage still open at this time. How much have the repairs set you back? I bet after hours call-outs are pretty expensive."
"Actually, I wasn't able to get through to any garages and the repairs are costing me dinner tonight after the show," Dave revealed with a sly grin.
"What are you talking about, bro?" Randy questioned with an utterly puzzled look on his face.
Dave let out a deep belly laugh, and then went on to explain how Elizabelle had found him at the side of the road, figured out what was wrong with his car, and then after revealing she owned the garage he'd tried to call, fitted the new fanbelt and got his car working again.
"I'm telling you, man, she's like a firecracker. Sassy, with a toned body and this dirty blonde hair that just flies wildly around her face whenever she moves," Dave stated with a sigh.
"You think she's got any hot friends to set me up with?" Randy joked.
"Dunno, and even if she does have, I wouldn't set them up with you. It might put her off," Dave shot back facetiously.
"Harsh, man, harsh," Randy returned, shaking his head and slapping Dave playfully on the shoulder blades.
By the time Elizabelle got to her seat, the sub-main event was just ending and she thought herself lucky that she's missed Candice Michelle taking on Jillian Hall.
Gone were the tough women wrestlers – like Chyna – that had competed when Elizabelle had still watched wrestling. Instead, they'd been replaced by – in her opinion – talentless eye-candy.
Recalling what Dave had said earlier about working with women who wouldn't get their hands dirty for fear of breaking a nail, Elizabelle smiled to herself and hoped Dave shared her outlook on the divas.
After a brief interlude, where the ring was adjusted, the main-event of the night was announced. Elizabelle's ears perked up when the audience were informed that Dave Batista would be going one-on-one against Chris Jericho, to decide the number one contender to Randy Orton's World Heavyweight Championship. She hadn't even assumed Dave was such a high ranking wrestler, despite the expensive car he was driving.
With a bubble of excitement forming in her stomach, Elizabelle looked towards the entrance way, waiting for Dave to appear. However, her heart dropped, when a count-down style music began playing, and it was announced that Chris Jericho was making his way to the ring.
Elizabelle watched with some interest, as the Canadian born wrestler made his entrance, taunting the crowd on his way to the ring. She had to admit, he was kind of cute, though nothing compared to how she was beginning to think of Dave Batista.
When Jericho had finally stopped show-boating, the arena went silent for a few moments, and then an electrifying guitar riff resonated through the Georgia Dome's sound system.
Elizabelle stared at the entrance ramp in awe, as Batista appeared – wearing nothing but a small pair of black wrestling briefs – and preformed his signature thigh slap, just before his fireworks went off.
Even though she'd seen men in wrestling attire before years ago, and had had at least two significant relationships in her life, at that moment, Elizabelle was transfixed by the sight of the man currently making his way down to the ring.
The image of him, oiled up, and wearing nothing but his wrestling trunks set her heart racing in a way it hadn't done in years, and she couldn't help but wonder if the arena had suddenly gotten ten degrees hotter in the last few seconds.
When Batista finally got into the ring, he then took it in turns to stand on the turnbuckles in each corner, and taunted to the crowed, as he flexed his muscles. Reaching the side of the ring facing where Elizabelle was sitting – just behind the commentary table – Batista gazed across at her, and then winked.
Elizabelle felt her heart flutter, like a schoolgirl having just receiving an acknowledgment from the football team's star quarter-back, and she mentally chided herself for getting so worked up over a guy. A guy she'd known for just under two hours no less.
Soon thereafter, the match began, and Elizabelle found she couldn't tear her gaze away from Dave Batista. She watched every move he made, noticing how different muscles flexed or became taut whenever he preformed a certain action within the ring.
As she watched on in wonder, Elizabelle began linking Batista's movements with those of a motorbike engine. She pictured how specific pistons in the engine pumped in a certain way when she did something to them, and related that to how Dave's body was reacting to the physical effects of the match.
One aspect of his physicality caught her attention the most – his highly toned thighs. As she watched the oil glistening muscles ripple from the slightest of movements, she couldn't help but think of the feeling of her cherished Triumph T140 Bonneville's engine vibrating under her as she rode it, and wondered what it would feel like to have those powerful thighs between her own.
However, all too soon, the match came to an end, and Elizabelle found herself disappointed that the action hadn't lasted longer. She just hoped dinner with Dave didn't end in such an anti-climax.
As the arena's seats began to empty, Elizabelle rose from her own position and then walked back the way she'd originally came, to find herself in the Georgia Dome's main entrance.
Assuming Dave would have to shower and change after his match, Elizabelle popped into the closest female restroom, to check her appearance. Inside the bathroom, she untied her hair, and brushed her fingers through it, so that the tendrils fell around her face. Then, she applied a little lightly tinted lip gloss, and she was ready to go.
When she returned to the arena's entrance way, most of the fans who had come to see the show had now left, and only a few stragglers remained, buying merchandise or visiting the restrooms.
Elizabelle looked around expectantly for Dave, wondering which direction he'd appear from, when she heard the sound of raucous laughter coming from a near-by corridor.
The large wooden doors at the end of the hallway swung open, and through them strode a guy, in his late twenties with heavily tattooed arms. He caught sight of Elizabelle, and then a smirk curled across his lips, and he made his way towards her.
"Hey, you must be Elizabeth, right?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes glinting devilishly.
" Yeah, I am, but I don't really see how that concerns you," she shot back. Even from first impressions, she could tell what this guy was like – she'd come across men like him before at her garage. No doubt he was a talented wrestler, and probably thought quite a lot of himself because of it.
The guy laughed, and then said, "Dave told me you were a firecracker. Seems like he was right."
Elizabelle stopped dead in her tracks. This guy obviously knew Dave, and apparently, he'd already been talking about her to his friends. Wondering what had been said about her, she momentarily forgot to reply.
Again, the man standing before her smirked, and she became infuriated. She had a strong desire to smack whoever this guy was straight in the mouth, and if he was indeed a friend of Dave's, she was beginning to wonder if going to dinner with him was such a great idea after all.
"Don't worry, Dave will be along in a minute," the guy said after a few moments of tense silence. "He's just explaining to the boss why he was late tonight."
"Thanks for lettin' me know," Elizabelle replied, trying her hardest to keep the disdain out of her voice.
The man said nothing more, and simply smirked again, then strode off towards the exiting doorways.
As Elizabelle watched him go, she suddenly felt a presence behind her, and turned to see Dave grinning crookedly at her.
"Hey," he said, crossing the entrance way to meet her. "I hope Randy wasn't giving you too much trouble. He can be a bit full on at times, but he's a good kid."
Elizabelle smiled, feeling more relaxed now that Dave had appeared, and then said, "No, he was just lettin' me know you were on your way. Though, he did mention that you said I'm a firecracker."
Dave's tanned skin turned a light shade of crimson, as he blushed at being found out. But then, he recovered himself and smiled at her.
"I might have, but I didn't say anything that isn't true."
"You're full of assumptions today, ain'cha?" Elizabelle commented facetiously, as they made their way across the parking lot. "How do you know I'm not some borin' hick and you've just gotten the wrong idea?"
"Well, for starters, you're riding around on a classic 1974 Triumph motorbike, and secondly, you more than put me in my place earlier when I questioned your diagnosis of my car troubles. I think it's safe to say, you probably are a bit of a firecracker."
Elizabelle laughed, and blushed slightly at the indirect compliment. "And I think it's safe to say, you're a guy that probably knows more about expensive suits than how your fancy car works, and that you like to brag to your lockerroom mates about a woman you've just met."
"Touché," Dave conceded with a smile. "You're probably right there. However, what I'm more interested in knowing is what you've got hidden behind this tough girl exterior. I'm guessing, you secretly like eating ice cream straight out of the tub and still call your parents every week."
"One right and one wrong. I'm allergic to dairy products, but yes, I'm still very close to my folks."
Dave smiled, and then rested back against the body of his car, as Elizabelle ran a finger lovingly over the frame of her motorbike.
"So, what do you want to do for dinner? And how are we going to deal with both my car and your bike?"
"I know this great lil' Tex-Mex place, if you're into that sort of thing? Perhaps I could take the lead on my bike and you follow me in the car?"
"Sounds good to me, but won't you mind not being able to drink with your dinner?"
"Actually, I'm not a big fan of alcohol. Though, I'm sure a bottle of beer won't hurt."
Dave grinned, thinking how completely laid back Elizabelle seemed. Most women he'd dated in the past usually insisted on a bottle of fine wine with their meal. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn't feel the need to get plastered every time they went out, and were content enjoying a simple bottle of beer.
With the arrangements for where they were having dinner finally made, Dave climbed into his Audi, as Elizabelle got onto her bike, and then with her taking the lead, they headed in the direction of the Tex-Mex restaurant she'd mentioned.
They arrived at the eatery, and luckily were shown to an available table fairly quickly. Then, after ordering a bottle of beer each, Dave and Elizabelle began to browse the menu to see what they'd like to eat.
For an appetizer, they decided to share a portion of Nachos – forgoing the cheese topping because of Elizabelle's allergy, and instead opting for salsa and Jalapeño pepper slices – Elizabelle insisting she liked her food hot and spicy. For the main course, Dave chose Burritos and Elizabelle went with Chili con carne.
Throughout both the starter and the main meal, the couple chatted happily as they ate. Discussing anything from the best vacation they'd been on, to their favorite T.V shows as a child, to their siblings and family life.
"Okay, now you've gotta answer a question I've been wondering about all night," Dave began. "How did you get the name Elizabeth-Belle?"
Elizabelle smiled and then began telling him where her slightly unusual name came from. "My mother had a thing for the 19th century women's rights co-founder Elizabeth Cady Stanton and my father's late mother was called Belle, so they named me after the two of them. Usually though, I prefer to go by a combination of both names."
"Well, it certainly suits you," Dave complimented with a chuckle. "Okay, another thing I've been wondering about since we met, where did you get your 1974 Triumph T140 Bonneville? I thought they'd been discontinued years ago."
Elizabelle grinned wildly, and then launched into an explanation of how she'd acquired her 'pride and joy'.
"Well, when I first started workin' at my Dad's garage, he wasn't payin' me the same as the other apprentices - as I was family, and only fifteen at the time – but I wanted to start savin' for a car. Then, one of the guys came in askin' about discontinued bikes, and where he could pick one up. So, I had the idea to start doin' that myself. That way, I'd save money and have somethin' to ride when I was old enough to take my test. I used the experience I'd picked up watchin' my dad work for most of my life, and spent all my free time at the garage. Now, I collect vintage bikes, and fix'emup in my spare time. I've sold a couple, and made good money from it too. Though, I just can't part with my Triumph or the 1975 Norton Commando 850 I've got back at home."
"What, you've got a 1975 Norton Commando 850?" Dave questioned in awe.
"Yeah, it's the second bike I ever fixed up. My dad got it for me for my twenty-first birthday, because it was made in the year that I was born," Elizabelle revealed, her eyes glazing over at the happy memory.
"That's some special gift. You must be really close to him."
"Yeah, I am. That's why there was no doubt that I'd take over the family business when he retired a few years ago. I'd been his partner there for about seven years anyway, then when he cut back on his hours to spend more time with Mom, I took the reigns."
"How about your siblings? Aren't they interested?"
"Annie is still at college, though it seems like she's gonna follow in mom's footsteps and get into interior design. Jack, he's happy to stay at home and play the house-husband while his wife goes to work," Elizabelle confessed with a laugh. "How'bout your brothers? What do they do?"
"Dion works at my parents restaurant, and Darius is a police officer back home in D.C," Dave revealed.
"Oh, your parents own a restaurant? What type of cuisine is it?"
"Greek and Filipino fusion. My mother's family are from Greece, and they came over to America when she was seven. She met my father at college when she was eighteen, they fell in love almost straight away and were married within a few months of knowing each other. They've been together forty-five years now."
"Oh, that's so lovely," Elizabelle said with a warm smile. The revelation that Dave's parents had been married for so long melted her heart, and made fer feel as though her decision to get to know Dave better had been a great idea. He seemed very family oriented, which was a value she also held close to her.
As Elizabelle was musing about what she'd just discovered about her date, and the implications that could have if they took things further and saw each other again, Dave's cell phone started to ring.
He slid it out of his pocket, flipped open the cover and then looked down at the screen to the caller I.D. When he saw who it was on the other end, he hesitated for a moment. He was enjoying getting to know Elizabelle better - finding out about her family and telling her about his own. However, he wasn't sure that he wanted her to know everything about his life just yet, and if he answered this call, it'd be unavoidable that she found out one of the most important aspects of his life. The question was, was he ready to confess he'd previously been married and had two daughters?
Then, his fear that something might be wrong with one of his children get the better of him, and he knew he had to do the right thing, whatever the consequences might later be.
"I'm sorry, I've really got to take this," he said, rising from his chair and then holding out his hands apologetically.
Elizabelle nodded in understanding, and allowed Dave to slip away to a quieter part of the restaurant.
While he was away, Elizabelle continued thinking about all she's learned about Dave so far. He came from Greek and Filipino heritage, and his parents – who owned a restaurant – had been married for forty-five years. Additionally, he had two brothers -one older and one younger. From everything he'd said, he was very close to all of his family, and saw them on a weekly basis, as they all lived within fifteen minutes drive of each other in Washington D.C.
It was obvious to her that he was a family man, and took his relationship with those he shared blood with very seriously, and that they were important to him. That characteristic of his personality made Elizabelle smile, as she felt the same way about her own family.
She owned the garage that had once belong to her father, and her grandfather before that. She saw her parents twice weekly, when she visited them for dinner, and probably saw her two siblings just as often. They all lived locally to each other, and continuously made the effort to stay a part of each others' lives.
In Elizabelle's mind, someone who spoke about their family in the way that Dave did, was guaranteed to be of good ilk.
When Dave returned from his phone call, and sat back at the table, he looked a little tense, and as though he had something on his mind.
"Is everythin' okay?" Elizabelle inquired with concern.
"Yes, everything's fine. It's just, there's something about me I should have told you sooner," he confessed.
Elizabelle braced herself for the news that he was actually married, and that'd been his wife on the phone checking up on where he was. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd gone to dinner with someone, only to find out later they were playing away from home.
"I have two daughters. Talia, the youngest of the two, was one the phone just. Apparently, her mum has said she can't go to a party that is coming up, so she was calling me to see if she could sweet-talk me into giving her my permission."
"Oh," was all Elizabelle could say in reply.
"I'm sorry. This is probably a lot for you to take in. Maybe it'd be easier if I explained the full story?"
All Elizabelle could do was nod mutely. She was curious to know the truth, but at the same time feared it might be something she didn't want to hear. It was almost like a car crash, when no matter how horrible it is, you just can't look away.
"Their mum, Vanessa, and I met at college when I was seventeen. We were school sweethearts, and married by the time I was nineteen. Maya came along when I was twenty-one, Talia just two years later. Though, sadly, we realized we'd rushed into marriage and we separated before Talia was even out of diapers. We tried to make it work for the girls, but in the years between being at college, and the children being born, we'd grown into different people. Vanessa would have happily settled down there and then, but I wasn't ready for it, and we ended up getting divorced. Sometimes, I actually think it's the best thing that could have happened though. The girls have still turned out as wonderful young women, and Vanessa ended up meeting and marrying a guy she's deeply in love with."
"Wow," Elizabelle said simply. "That's some bombshell. How old are your girls now?"
"Maya is eighteen and Talia is sixteen. Both of them look just like their mum, luckily for them, and they're both amazingly intelligent young women."
"You must be very proud of them."
"Oh, I am, every day of my life. Though, I have to admit, I can't take that much credit for them. I wasn't very involved in their lives until Talia was about ten."
"I'm sure you more than make up for it now," Elizabelle said genuinely, though, she couldn't help but wonder where this turn of events left herself and Dave.
As if reading her mind, Dave then said, "Now, I understand if finding out about all this is too much for you, and you just want to call it quits here. That's okay. We had a great dinner, and I know finding out a guy has got two teenage daughters can be a little hard to cope with, especially when you've only just met him. So, it's your call, I won't be offended at all."
Elizabelle took a moment to think about what Dave had just said to her, and then told him exactly what was on her mind at that moment. "I won't lie to you. Findin' out you've got two daughters is a huge shock. But, that was years ago, and they're almost adults now, so it's not like you'd be expectin' me to suddenly become a step-mother to them or anything. And, if I'm be completely honest, I have to admit, I like you, and I've been enjoyin' gettin' to know you."
"That's a relief," Dave replied with a sheepish smile. "Because I like you too. I like what I've found out about you so far, and if you're willing, I want to learn more."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Elizabelle. "I know, why don't we go back to mine, have some coffee and continue gettin' to know each other?"
"That seems like a great idea to me."
With the affirmative reply that they both liked each other, and wanted to continue getting to know the other better, Elizabelle and Dave paid for their meal – agreeing they'd go half each – and then, with Elizabelle leading the way on her motorbike and Dave following in his car, they headed back to her place.
When they arrived at where Elizabelle lived, Dave was actually a little surprised to see that it was in a modern town house. He'd, for some reason, imagined she would own an old building that she'd fixed up herself. Instead, it was a dwelling built in a fairly new estate, and Elizabelle had only lived there for just under seven years.
The interior was lavishly decorated – something Elizabelle confessed was more her mother and sister's doing and not entirely to her taste – though, pictures and models of different makes of cars and motorbikes added a more personal touch.
They walked through to the large, open plan, sitting room, where a massive black leather couch dominated most of the furnishings.
Once the coffee was made, Elizabelle and Dave settled on the sofa, sipping their drinks, and continuing to chat like they had at the restaurant.
Dave elaborated more on his relationship with his two daughters, taking out his wallet to show Elizabelle photos of them.
"They're gorgeous," she complimented, looking at the pictures of two dark haired teenagers, with deep chocolate colored eyes and model like looks.
"Thanks," Dave replied with a bashful grin. "Maya has just started twelfth grade, and wants to go to college next year and study towards being a doctor. Talia is in tenth grade, and too dangerously popular for her own good. Seriously, I think if she had her own say, she'd be out partying every night instead of doing class work."
"They sound like a handful," Elizabelle said with a chuckle, thinking about her own niece and nephew.
"They can be sometimes, but they're good girls really. Both of them are a hell of a lot smarter than I was at their ages, and they're more than capable of handling themselves."
"How often do you get to see'em?"
"It really depends on how often I'm away from work, and how busy they are with school. Though, we all make the effort to spend at least one full weekend a month together, usually more."
"That's good that you still try to see'em as much as possible. What do they think of your work? I bet they love havin' a dad who's a WWE wrestler."
Dave let out a deep belly laugh, and nodded his head. "Maya, being the quieter of the two, isn't overly involved in my work. She'll watch some of my bigger matches, but I can't really say she's a fan of wrestling. Talia loves it though. She's come to the arena with me a few times, and is utterly convinced she's going to marry John Cena, despite the fact he's twice her age. They're both very supportive of what I do."
"That's really great. I can only imagine how hard it'd be for you if they weren't happy with your line of work."
"Yeah, I'm lucky there. I think it helps that their step-dad is a wrestling fan too, though."
"Do you have a good relationship with him then?" Elizabelle inquired, still trying to work out all the dynamics of Dave's family life.
"Mike is a great guy, and a much better husband to Vanessa than I ever was. I really owe a great deal to the man, for raising my girls, while I was too busy being a jerk and getting my act together."
"I'm sure they understand that it wasn't anythin' to do with'em personally. And you're lucky you get on with your ex's new husband so well."
"Yeah, I really am," agreed Dave with a solemn nod of his head. "But enough about me and my girls. Tell me more about your niece and nephew. How old are they both?"
"Joshua is ten, and Michaela will turn eight in about two months time," informed Elizabelle, taking out her purse, where she has a couple of photos of her niece and nephew. "They're wonderful children, I love'em to pieces."
"Michaela looks how I imagine you looked as a child," Dave commented with a laugh.
"Thanks. Everyone who's seen us together says that. Sometimes, when I've taken her to the mall alone, I have people assumin' she's my daughter."
"I can certainly see why."
Over the course of five more mugs of coffee each, Dave and Elizabelle continued chatting, and sharing information about themselves, and as they did so, they grew closer to each other on the couch, until Elizabelle's knees were brushing his.
Suddenly, an image of Dave's thighs when he was just wearing his wrestling briefs flashed through Elizabelle's mind, and she flushed a little.
"Sorry," she said, scooting back over to 'her' side of the sofa.
"That's no need to say sorry," Dave insisted in a soft, husky voice, as he wrapped his arms around Elizabelle's waist and gently pulled her closer to him again.
With nowhere else to place her hands, Elizabelle found them falling into Dave's lap. Just above the very part of his body she'd been fantasizing about moments before.
Without abashment, Dave lowered his own hands so that they were now on top of hers, and looked deeply into Elizabelle's eyes. Not for the first time that evening, did he notice they were ocean blue, flecked with jade green.
As Dave continued gazing at her, Elizabelle found her throat uncommonly dry, and she swallowed deeply.
What was it about this man that made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl?
In one slow, subtle movement, Dave allowed his hands to travel up Elizabelle's arms, to her shoulders, and then from there, to her jawline until he was cupping her face.
Elizabelle sucked in a deep breath, and inhaled the smell of his musky cologne.
Then, without preamble, Dave lowered his head, and crushed his lips against hers.
At first, Elizabelle tasted the bitterness of the coffee he'd just been drinking, but then, as Dave's tongue gently probed her mouth, all she could taste was him.
As the kiss deepened, Elizabelle swooned in Dave's embrace, feeling sensations she hadn't for years. Her whole body tingled, as his fingertips slowly traced a hot line from her jaw and down to her collarbone.
Wanting to bring their bodies even closer to each other, Elizabelle scooted nearer to Dave, and her hands travelled up his back and into his short, dark hair.
The intensity of how Dave was now kissing her, made Elizabelle feel like two hundred volts of electricity were coursing though her veins, and her head suddenly felt clouded with lust.
As Dave's tongue continued to intertwine with hers, and his hands trailed from her collarbone, down to her shoulders, and then round to caress her back, all Elizabelle could think about was the sight of him in his wrestling gear earlier.
The outfit really had left little to the imagination, and she could quite easily picture what he'd look like without the wrestling briefs on at all.
At the same time, Dave was also having similar thoughts about Elizabelle. From what he'd seen of her in the tight black jeans and tank top she was wearing, she had a toned body that would rival some of the women's in the WWE. The added bonus was, that while she had a curvy figure, he assumed it was all natural. As his hands travelled back around to her midriff, he had to resist the urge to move higher and cup her breasts, instead letting out a deep moan.
Elizabelle heard the sound that issued from Dave's mouth, as his hands caressed her stomach - and her own trailed across his shoulder blades - and it only served to heighten her current desire for him even more.
While her hands trailed up his neck, her body felt on fire from lust, and she was wondered how far they could take this before possibly doing something one of them might regret.
Elizabelle wasn't the type of woman to sleep with a guy she'd just met, and had only had two serious relationships in her life. However, there was something about Dave Batista that made her want to throw all caution to the wind. After all, you only live once, she thought to herself.
Finally, breaking off the kiss, Dave looked at Elizabelle with lust clouded eyes.
"I'm not going too fast for you, am I?" he asked huskily, as his hands trailed up her arms and to her shoulders.
"Not at all," she insisted, taking his hands from her shoulders, and gently pulling them down to her chest, so they rested just above her breasts.
The intention of Elizabelle's actions, and the invitation she was giving to him was clear to Dave, and gently, he allowed his hands to move down and cup her breasts. They were plump, yet firm, and definitely natural. Dave could not wait to feel more of her.
Slowly, she lowered her head towards his, and captured his lips in a tantalizing kiss. As his attention to her breasts become more frantic, so did the speed of her tongue against his.
However, all too soon for Elizabelle, Dave had broken away from the kiss and began lifting her tank top slowly up her body and over her head.
He stopped, momentarily, as her silk clad breasts were reveled to him, and then a cheeky grin spread across his face.
Elizabelle let out a deep sigh of contentment, as Dave's hands came up to rub her nipples through the material of her bra. The callousness of his fingertips apparent, even through the layer of silk currently parting them from her bare breasts.
As Dave continued to rub lazy circles around her nipples, bringing them to hard peaks, Elizabelle allowed her own hands to reach down to the hem of the sweatshirt Dave was wearing, and gently pull the garment up his body.
For an instant, Dave's attention to her breasts ceased, as he rid himself of the item of clothing and then he continued his exploration of Elizabelle's firm mounds.
At the same time, Elizabelle ran her hands longingly over the smooth planes of Dave's chiseled chest. Her fingertips leaving a hot trail from his pecks, across to his nipples, which she tweaked gently.
Carefully, Dave brought the straps of Elizabelle's bra down to her shoulders, caressing the skin there gently, as he reached around to unfasten the clasp.
When the garment felt away, Dave could no longer resist the urge to taste more than just Elizabelle's lips, and lowered his head to her right breast, as his hand continued kneading the left one.
Suckling gently, Dave nibbled on her nipple, at the same time as she raked her nails along his shoulder blades, in a sign that she was enjoying his attention.
When a low moan issued from Elizabelle's throat, Dave knew that she was experiencing the same feelings of arousal the he currently was, and moved his attention back to assaulting her mouth with his own.
As the kiss deepened, and became more heated, Dave's hands slowly trailed down Elizabelle's stomach and came to the waist band of her jeans. He unfastened them carefully, and then she wriggled out of them, leaving herself seated in his lap with only his own jeans and her panties parting their naked bodies.
With deliberate slowness one of Dave's hands slipped between Elizabelle's legs and rubbed back and forth across the apex of her thighs, through the cover of her underwear. Elizabelle bucked her hips against his arms, making little cries of wanting as she allowed her hands to trail up to his shoulders and cling tightly to them.
While Dave's ministrations increased in speed, Elizabelle gently rocked her hips backwards and forwards, matching the pace of his hands.
The feeling of her sexuality so close to his own, caused Dave's already bulging erection to become harder still, until his jeans were painfully tight across his thighs.
Feeling the dig of his penis in her upper leg, Elizabelle realized the effect their actions was having on Dave, and shuffled backwards off his lap. Then, without giving him anytime to question her movement, she reached for his belt buckle.
What she really wanted to do was strip him of the clothing as quickly as possible, so that she could get another view of the toned thighs she's seen earlier that night. However, Elizabelle took her time, undoing every button on his jeans languidly.
Dave knew she was being deliberately slow to tease him, and he loved it. However, with Elizabelle now undoing his pants, it stopped him from caressing her as fully as he'd like to.
Unable to contain the desire to touch her body again, Dave allowed his hands to come forwards and cup Elizabelle's breasts again – kneading the firm flesh as he did so.
By this time, Elizabelle had freed Dave of the jeans he had been wearing, and was now left to caress the taut muscles of his thighs. They felt exactly as she imagined they would. Actually, no, they felt better. The firm tendons rippled slightly under her fingertips, and tensed as she applied more pressure.
Slowly, Dave's hands travelled down from Elizabelle's breasts, over her smooth flat stomach and to the hem of her panties. He knew if they went any further, and removed these last articles of clothing, there'd be no going back, and so he stopped his actions momentarily to check she was okay with doing this.
"Are you sure this isn't too fast for you?" he asked huskily.
"No, I want it too," she breathed heavily in reply.
That admittance was more than enough for the animal desire Dave was trying so hard to keep at bay, and her tore her panties from her with such force that the material actually ripped.
"Sorry," he muttered with a smirk as the garment fluttered to the ground.
"It doesn't matter," she assured with a grin, reaching to pull off his own underwear.
With a little tugging, Elizabelle discarded the last item of clothing stopping her from fully viewing Dave's naked body.
She let out a small gasp of surprise, as his full hardness was revealed to her, and Dave couldn't stop the satisfied chuckle that issued from his lips. He wasn't always so arrogant about his manhood, but he couldn't deny the ego boost her reaction had caused.
With a devilish grin, Elizabelle lowered her head, and took his full length into her mouth, all the time keeping a firm grip on his thighs.
Dave's muscles clenched, as Elizabelle's tongue flicked over the head of his penis, and she gently nibbled on its tip.
As she increased the speed of her movements, and her head bobbed up and down in his lap, Dave took a handful on Elizabelle's blonde hair and drove his erection deeper into her mouth. To his surprise, she didn't gag, and continued sucking him like a pro.
Soon enough, Elizabelle felt Dave's thigh muscles tighten, telling her he was close to climaxing. Not wanting to stop her torture of him just yet, she gently released his penis from her mouth and lightly blew on the tip.
The action caused Dave to let out a deep growl, and she looked up to see his eyes completely clouded with lust. As his eyelids lazily flickered closed, his arms reached out and pulled her into his lap.
Again, his mouth crushed against hers and his tongue forced entry inside to taste her fully. Then, as the kiss deepened, Dave maneuvered Elizabelle's body, so that he could enter her.
He found her opening tight, but wet with desire for him, and her inner muscles tightened around his shaft as he drove deeper into her.
Then, to his surprise, Elizabelle began to set the pace of their lovemaking, by gently rocking her hips slowly backwards and forwards against his.
Soon, her speed became faster until she was riding him fully – her nails digging into his shoulders as his own hands came forwards to again knead her breasts hungrily.
Elizabelle threw her head back and issued a scream, as the heat rose inside her body and Dave's thighs trembled beneath her. She never thought she'd experience a sensation better than being on her 1974 Triumph T140 Bonneville and feeling it's engine vibrate between her legs, but she'd been wrong. This was a million times better!
As Elizabelle continued to ride him, Dave took hold of her ass to help the momentum of their actions, then gripping her butt and lower back, he brought her body crashing down on his throbbing hardness.
The feeling of his penis so deeply penetrating her core tipped Elizabelle over the edge, and without warning, the waves of orgasm crashed over her body, consuming every part of her like a drug and making her toes curl.
A few moments later, Dave felt relase too, as he thrust her hips into his for once final time, and then his seed exploded inside of her.
For several long minutes, they remained how they were, with Elizabelle sitting in Dave's lap and her head resting on his shoulders, as his hands caressed her back.
Finally, however, Elizabelle's legs began to cramp up and she had to move. She distangled herself from Dave's sweaty body, then carefully rose from the couch – her legs still quivering like jelly.
"I'm just gonna get a glass of water. Do you want anythin'?" she inquired softly.
"Yeah, a glass of water would be good, thanks," Dave replied, opening one heavy eyelid to look at her.
She truely looked beautiful, with her blonde hair all toussled from their recent activities and her skin glowing softly in the lamp light of the room. Far more attractive than any of the fake bimbos he worked with, and a million times more real too.
Five minutes later, Elizabelle returned to the sitting room, now dressed in a red silk robe and with two glasses of water in her hands.
She carefully placed the drinks on the coffee table, and then lowered herself onto the couch.
As she sat down, Dave reached across to take hold of her hand and began drawing lazy circles around her thumb with his fingertip.
"Listen," he began quietly. "I don't want you to be thinking the wrong thing of me and what we just did. I don't make a habit of going back to a woman's place and ravaging her on the couch."
Elizabelle chuckled and nodded her head, "And nor do I make a habit of invitin' guys back here and lettin' them ravage me on my couch. You're actually the first person I've slept with in seven years."
Dave's eyes widened in shock for a moment, but then he smiled.
"I can't promise you anything serious right now, but what I do know is that I'd love for us to continue seeing each other. I understand that us living in different states might be difficult, but I'm willing to make the effort so that we can have something more than just tonight together."
"Alright, then. You're on," she agreed with a grin.
A/N2: For the time being, this is where Elizabelle and Dave's story ends. I only intended this one-shot to show how their relationship began, and I'm more than happy to allow anyone reading this to use their imaginations as to what happens next. However, if Gin ever feels the desire to take this story further, she is more than welcome to.