It had been a rough match. Vladimir Kozlov stirred weakly on the mat before mustering the last bit of strength he had to pull himself into a sitting position. Something warm was trickling down the side of his face. Gingerly, he touched a finger to the spot. When he withdrew the tip of his finger, it came away bright red. He supposed he would eventually have to let the trainer look at it. He was pretty sure the chair shot to the face he had received, had cut him badly.
For now though, he would rest. Kozlov turned his gaze toward the entrance ramp and glared. There at the top of the ramp, facing the crowd with their arms raised in triumph; was his opponent Ezekiel Jackson, and his former manager turned enemy, William Regal. For weeks beforehand, the three of them had been a dominate force in the WWE. Then the tables had turned. Or rather Jackson and Regal had turned. On him. Kozlov knew that the reason for it all was so Vince and the company could start the process of turning him face, but so far it didn't seem to be working well at all. No matter what he did, the fans just wouldn't get behind him.
Kozlov shook his head sadly and pulled himself to his feet with a wince. Ever so carefully, he walked over to the side of the ring and climbed out. After climbing down to the floor, he turned and slowly made his way up the ramp. Fans booed and jeered him the whole way. More than once he got hit with garbage that a few of them were throwing. At one point, a half-filled plastic cup sailed through the air and caught him on the back of the head, drenching him in warm, stale beer. At least he hoped it was beer. Normally, the jeering and the boos didn't affect him, but tonight, everything seemed to cut him to the very core. Tears burned his eyes along with the still trickling blood. He wiped his face impatiently. He wasn't going to give them any satisfaction by letting them see his pain.
"I believe in you Kozlov! Don't give up!"
A sweet and positive voice cut through the sea of boos like a beacon of hope.
Kozlov paused and turned slowly in the direction of the sound, somewhere to his left. He put a hand up to shade his eyes from the glare of the lights, and searched the crowd. There. Third row on the left. Dead center. A beautiful woman in a red-t-shirt. Brown hair, blue eyes. She looked oddly familiar. No, it couldn't be HER. Kozlov thought. A memory of Wrestlemania came back to him. Of a beautiful woman in a blue dress. She had won that fan contest. Her name had been Jacki. He had made love to her in the locker room that night after the show. He had heard later on that every man on the roster had been with her, including old Vince himself, but Kozlov didn't think anyone had enjoyed it more than he himself had.
He took another look, sure it couldn't be her, but then she smiled at him and nodded as if reading his thoughts. The woman took a small piece of paper from her purse and gently tossed it down to him. He caught it in midair and put it in the pocket of his robe. Then Kozlov made his way back towards the locker room.
After letting the trainer tend to his wounds, Kozlov showered and changed into his street clothes. As he was folding up his ring gear to put them into his bag, he felt something in the pocket of his robe. The note. He drew it out and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he read the first line:
My dearest Kozlov,
I was hoping to see you again.
I will be here in town for three weeks for Christmas.
I would very much like to see you again. My hotel room number is on the back.
I'm staying at the Best Western Inn there by the river.
Yours always,
Jacki.
The note was lightly scented with perfume. Kozlov was quite sure it was the same perfume she had wore the night he met her. Wasting no time, he grabbed up his things and raced out to the parking lot.
Back at his own hotel, Kozlov went up to his room and put his bag down on a chair. Taking a good look in the mirror, he supposed he should change his clothes. The plain sweater and faded jeans he was wearing were alright for just lounging around in, but for a spending a night with a beautiful woman, they just wouldn't do. Opening the closet door, he took down the suit he had brought with him. Stripping off the clothes he had on, he dressed himself in his best suit and tie. Shoes. Where did he put his dress shoes? Kozlov thought. Swearing to himself, he bent down and searched the closet floor. There in a corner was the box his shoes were in. After putting them on, he walked into the bathroom.
Kozlov turned on the light over the sink and studied his face in the mirror. The four stitches over his left eye didn't look very well, but they couldn't be helped. He ran a hand over his cheek. Nope, didn't need to shave. He checked his teeth in the mirror. Little bit bloody looking. He supposed he must have bit his tongue or something during the match. He brushed them until they shone white. Kozlov then slapped on a bit of cologne and combed his hair. After making himself look nice, Kozlov made his way back to the parking lot, climbed into his rental car and drove into the night.
Meanwhile, back at the Best Western, in room 20; Jacki Demchak was also getting ready. She didn't know for sure if Kozlov would show, but figured it couldn't hurt to prepare herself if he did. If he didn't show, she could always just head out on the town for herself. After a quick shower, Jacki dressed in a lacy black negligee with matching stockings and panties. On her feet were marabou slippers with kitten heels. A filmy black silk robe lay draped over a chair. She slipped it on and then sprayed on perfume.
Her long, brown hair lay softly on her shoulders and curled upwards. She wore no makeup, letting her natural beauty shine through. Nervously, Jacki paced back and forth across the carpeted floor. When a knock sounded at the door, she jumped in surprise. Wiping her damp hands against her hips, Jacki crossed the room and opened the door.
There was Vladimir Kozlov. The man that had haunted many a dream of hers since his debut on Friday Night Smackdown. Jacki's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. Instead of his usual red and white ring gear or the jeans and t-shirt she usually saw him in; Kozlov was wearing a very nice black suit with a white silk shirt and blue tie. Jacki was not a proper judge of menswear, but she imagined that the price of that suit would equal the price of at least two month's worth of groceries. She sniffed the air delicately. His cologne was nice too. Rich and musky with a hint of some exotic spice. In his hands, he carried a perfect, long stem red rose.
Now while Jacki was appraising Koslov, Koslov was getting quite an eyeful of her. His brown eyes travelled over her body hungrily, and he had to restrain himself from just throwing her onto the bed and ripping that negligee off.
"Vladimir! I'm so glad to see you! Please come in!"
Jacki spoke and moved back into the room to let him enter.
