<center>Atomic Welfare vs Freya</center>

Freya knocked on the door and waited. When the occupant answered, she pushed open the door and entered. Stern was sitting behind a desk covered with files.

"Should I expect a visit from Acolyte too, or will you be the last of your stable to feel the need to drop by?" Stern leant back in her chair.

"Did Dante come see you?"

"Is he part of the New Hellfire Club?"

Freya shrugged a reply and Stern scribbled a note on a pad in front of her.

"I just wanted to ask about this." Freya held up a sheet of paper.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to help me. As you can see," Stern motioned to her desk, "I see a lot of paper."

"Oh right. It's a PR thing. Says evening dress." Freya walked to the desk and added her piece of paper to the many that were precariously stacked there. A low growl came from Stern's dog Blackjack, whose basket was taking up the front of several filing cabinets. Freya glared at the massive dog, who dropped his head onto his front paws but still gave another low growl.

Stern looked from Freya to Blackjack and back again. "This seems right," she said, handing Freya back the piece of paper.

"I thought after the...incident...at the house show I wasn't going near an audience again."

"This is just a meet and greet. As it says here." Stern tapped the page.

"Oh okay. And evening dress..."

"Means you wear a dress."

"Right. Looks like I need to go shopping then." Freya turned and walked towards the door. As her hand touched the handle she paused and turned around again. "Ms. Stern..."

"Miss Green?"

Freya tensed slightly. She hated being addressed so formally, although Stern hadn't added the condescending tone that usually seemed to accompany it.

"What will happen to Darkness if he loses those belts?"

"When he loses them, not if," the Commissioner corrected her, "and that depends on him."

Freya nodded and opened the door to leave.

"Freya," Stern called out as she stepped over the threshold, "I'd look closely at the company I keep if I were in your position."

"I'll bear that in mind," Freya told her in an even tone without turning around before closing the door behind her.

**

Atomic Welfare sat in his locker room and started to undo the athletic tape from around his wrists. He'd been training hard since he'd found out he was facing the Bleeder Champion and the possibility of winning that belt was tantalising. He wasn't underestimating Freya though; he'd seen her in the ring and there was a reason she was holding that belt.

An embossed invitation to a press ‘meet and greet' was on the table in front of him. The message that came with it was that attendance for those invited was compulsory.

The tape he had just unwound curled up as he placed it on the table next to the invitation. He was going to have to find something to wear, he mused to himself. This would be a good opportunity to finally get the name ‘Anthony Smith' around where it mattered.

Two days beforehand

The bright white lights above Atomic Welfare bouncing off his naked arms and chest. His legs dangled over the desk of the lab. His large muscular fingers, slightly stiffed by years of fighting fiddled nervously with a small pencil, spinning it through the cool, sterilized air. His eyes drifted to his left arm, although it looks perfectly normal. Why could this be? The doors shuddered open and a familiar figure strided to the giant grappler.

Her figure was thin and petite, she had a typical shape, she had some curves but they were hardly striking. She was decidedly average. Her long, sleek red hair flowed gloriously down from her scalp to her waist. Her face was pretty, with emerald green eyes, long designer spectacles and ruby red cheeks. Anthony Smith had always seen her as stunning. Although she always appeared uninterested. Her plump, red lips were forming a smile. She cleared her throat to tell Smith the results.

"Well Anthony it seems we have discovered another side effect of Genetic changes."

Smith shuddered, he was briefly reminded of the experiments he was involved with in Kuwait, the operation which turned US Marine Anthony Smith into a "super soldier" and forever scarred his life. The Serum which was injected into Smith had forever changed him. His muscles remained toned, his bones were slightly stronger, his agility was unrealistic for a man f his sides, and most poignantly he was descend into terrible rages. One such rage contributed in his dismissal from active service and haunted Smith's memory. However, the army hadn't finished with Smith. Hoping to remove the rage which was destroy Smith's self control, they sent Smith to BioCare, a small unimportant genetic research company based in Boston and Birmingham. During his stay there, his testosterone fluxuations were stopped unless he was put under severe Mental distress (for instance Torture) He also met the head of Project Wolf (His project), the lovely red head standing before him- Melissa Chambers.

Not wanted to dwell on Smith's dark past, Chambers pressed on:

"It seems another benefit of Ingredient XLA is that you have the power of regeneration"

Atomic Welfare dropped his pen and turned back at his left arm. It was immaculate, aside from a scar he picked from his teen years.

"What do you mean?" Welfare enquired

"Well you are like a Salamander..."

Welfare raised an eyebrow.

"Well Salamander's are curious creatures, like yourself they have the power to regenerate lost tissue and nerves. Rather like when you severed the nerves in your arm."

Atomic rubbed his left arm.

"However, there is no explanation why your wounds healed so fast. Your improved hailing factor is another genetic bonus."

She gave him a toothy smile which Welfare returned. Two of his teeth were slightly whiter then the others. They had healed in the barfight as well...

Melissa lowered her voice to a more serious tone:

"Now I now of the dangers of you occupation and test show your limbs and bones have this ability, but you are not invincible, your internal organs may not have such a special power. So don't go into anymore unnecessary confrontations. Got it."

Anthony Smith smiled, he had called Stern to announce his return from "Injury" and had been booked against the bleeder champion. He knew the guaranteed bloodbath wasn't what she expected. He merely winked as he pulled the white T-shirt from the nearby stool and walked to the door.

"Same time next week?"

Melissa blushed slightly, but Welfare as usual didn't seem to notice.

"Well, um... Yes Mr. Smith."

"Another opportunity lost" She thought as Atomic Welfare climbed into his car on the car park below...

***

Atomic Welfare looked almost comical in a tuxedo, it had taken several hours for a tailor to accept the monumental task of framing the gigantic frame of Atomic Welfare and his steely muscles. However, a small mousy man took up the task (mainly after Anthony Smith offered the man $4,000 extra). The tuxedo was simple, pure black with a green trim and a ghost white shirt. Atomic's reddish brown hair was slicked back with gel and only the scar over Welfare's eye was showing. After spending 40 minutes cleaning his teeth, Welfare considered knocking them out and letting a new set grow back, but Melissa's stern warning came flooding back. Instead he strolled carefully up to the limo which had been rented. Surely a party in LA was going to be fun...

Freya wandered into the large hall where lots of people were milling around. A man in the lobby had taken her coat and now she felt self conscious. She tugged at the hem of her dress that Tilpin and Eoin had insisted on taking up, and even though she was older than them, she had lost the argument with the oversized women.

She caught Stern's eye across the room and received a disapproving glare. Freya stopped fidgeting and took a champagne flute she was proffered from one of the waiters.

"Hey, Ms. Green!"

Freya rolled her eyes at the formal greeting. She turned around and found a slightly overweight guy hurrying over towards her. She waited, sipping the champagne, and he tried to dodge between people but didn't quite manage it. When he finally got to her he was slightly out of breath.

"Dirk Penley," he said, offering her one sweaty hand and pushing his glasses further up his nose with the other. Freya noticed he was holding a small tape recorder as well.

"You're from the magazine..." Freya ventured. Dirk smiled brightly in the knowledge that she knew who she was.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" He held out the recorder and pressed the ‘record' button.

"Shoot."

"How do you feel about being the Bleeder Champion again, knowing that only one other person has held that belt more than once?"

"It feels good, some people try and hold every belt, or head for the World titles, I think I found my niche with the Bleeder belt."

"And how do you feel with the rule change since you last held the belt, that anyone can win it from you during a show, as long as you're bleeding."

Freya shrugged. "Makes life a little more interesting I suppose. No one has tried to pin me outside of a match yet, but I'm sure I still have that to look forward to."

"Have you ever considered going for the World titles?"

Freya sipped from her drink. "Well, yes and no. It would have been cool when I first started but as the last Champ and the current one are friends of mine, it would make winning the belts awkward."

"But you have beaten Darkness before, one of the few. You could probably do it again."

"Maybe, but as I said, I'm happy with what I've got."

Dirk stopped the recording. "Thanks for that."

"No worries." Freya would have walked off but didn't see anyone else she recognised.

"How was the wedding?" Dirk asked conversationally, pleased that the wrestler hadn't just walked off like so many others had.

"What wedding?"

"Dante and Selenia."

Freya stared at him for a second before her brain caught up. "Wedding...?" she repeated dumbly, blinking again. Dirk looked confused and embarrased in equal measure. Freya tried to smile, but knew from his scent that she didn't convince him. "It was great," she lied through clenched teeth. She drained her glass in one. "If you'll excuse me..." She stormed off, occasionally bumping into other people in her way. She couldn't believe Dante, the first person she'd met in the fed who was as odd as herself, they guy who'd invited her to be part of the NHFC, they'd fought vampires together, and yet they weren't good enough friends for her to get an invite to his wedding?

She found herself at he bar, and before she could wonder if it was a bad sign that she'd gone there on autopilot she was being asked what she wanted.

"Got any Guiness?"

The barman shook his head. "We have bottled beer or wine."

"Is the wine nice?"

The barman shrugged his shoulders non-commitally.

"I'll have a..." Freya stood on her tip-toes to see over the bar, "fosters please."

"I'll have one of those too."

Freya looked over her shoulder to the owner of the voice. She found a walking wall which seemed to have been painted in tuxedo-shaped graffiti.

"Do you expect me to pay for it as well?" She asked.

"I would have thought the Bleeder champion could afford to buy two drinks."

Freya raised her eyebrows but paid for the drinks anyway and carried them away from the bar. When she found a space amongst the people she handed the spare drink to the stranger. "So are you going to introduce yourself or do you regularly scam drinks off people?"

The stranger raised an eyebrow slightly, which stretched the scar across one eye a little, but Freya managed to miss it. He held out a massive hand anyway. "Anthony Smith."

Freya shook it. "It's quite nice to hear a familiar accent. Whereabouts in the UK you from?"

"Here and there. Spent a lot of time in on this side of the Atlantic too."

"Ah, that would explain the twang." Freya looked around the room. "So... you here with the press?"

The eyebrow raised again. No... I'm Atomic Welfare."

"Is that some sort of charity?"

Smith's fist clenched. "Are you serious?" One look at the confused look on Freya's face told him she was. He looked around them at the room full of people and spun on his heel and walked away. He walked quickly and found the nearest exit out of the building. Freya watched him leave, not really sure what was going on; the mass of emotion, perfume and scents of food cooking somewhere was confusing and blinding her nose.

He breathed in the cooler air and leant his forehead against the wall. It had taken a lot to walk away and not floor the girl where she stood.

"Well that was rude."

He glanced sideways and saw Freya, hands on hips, standing in the doorway he'd just come out of.

"I'm sorry I don't know about your organisation," she continued, walking down the steps, "but you didn't have to just walk off."

"It's not an organisation," he growled, "it's my ring name."

"Your part of the development crew?"

Smith let out a roar and grabbed Freya, pushing her against a wall. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us, you don't even care to know your colleagues." He slammed her into the wall again.

Atomic Welfare's eyes seemed to flash as his grip on Freya Green continued to tighten. Adrenaline was now flowing through the Bleeder Champion, but it felt as though she was being held by a tank. Anthony Smith looked possessed, he growled uncontrollably and his iron-like arms pinned Freya against the wall. Her eyes widened with fear, he was inhuman- unbeatable. His arms were the width of her waist. She closed her eyes, expecting the end.

Smith paused. His arms began to shake, Freya was too heavy, she dropped to ground, her eyes opened to see tears streaming down the big man's cheeks, His eyes (with had flashed red) had returned to normal (albeit filled with tears). Then welfare sprinted. Freya's instincts were to tail him. He could have destroyed her after all. But as she ran to the hall, she couldn't see him. Crowds were nonchalantly chatting. She had lost him...

***

After 10 minutes of fruitless searching, she gave up. For such a huge man, Anthony Smith was amazingly agile and athletic, it couldn't have been natural. And his ring name Atomic Welfare, the name was somewhat vague, but Freya rarely focused on newbies until they proved their worth. After all, she never faced some of them. Maybe he wore a mask?, she thought as she downed a vodka martini. Finally she swallowed her pride and pulled her mobile. She had more important things to worry about, so it was best that Freya just asked. She tapped a familiar number.

"Hello?" answered Valerie Stern's secretary.

"It's Freya Green"

"One sec..."

"Stern here, everything at the party fine Freya, no-one's dead are they?"

"No, I was just wondering who this guy Atomic Welfare is, we had a sort of altercation..."

Freya sensed that Stern knew exactly what Freya was alluring too, as she heard a faint cackle of laughter from the red headed commissioner.

"Freya, you just met your opponent next show..."

Smith found himself sat on the examination table for the second time in as many days. He looked up as the door opened and Melissa walked in. He smiled slightly to himself; he liked how her hair was slightly mussed up, like she'd just got out of bed to fit him in.

"Now you didn't have to dress up just for me..."

She gave him a tired smile as she picked up her stethoscope. "What brings you back in so soon?"

"I lost my temper," he said, looking at his massive shoes.

"Okay..." Melissa put the earpiece in place and applied the circular disc to Smith's chest through his partially opened shirt.

"Hey," he said, flinching slightly, "that's cold."

"Sorry." She withdrew it and breathed on the disc to warm it slightly before putting it back against his skin.

There was a moment's silence between the two of them. The big man looked down on the redhead as she leant close to his chest.

"Well, you seem to be fine now." She put the stethoscope down and picked up some vacu-tubes. "I'll take some blood though, to check your hormone levels."

Smith winced slightly as the needle entered his vein.

"How's the other guy?" the redhead asked conversationally as she changed the tubes.

"I think she is fine."

Melissa looked up at him. Her facial expression was different now. "Who is she? What happened?"

"She's my opponent at Havoc, but she had no idea who I was. It bugged me."

"That's understandable..." the doctor said slowly.

"It was horrible," he replied, getting off the bench. "I could feel how fragile she was. I could feel her heart racing. I knew if I gripped a big tighter, or pushed her a little harder I...I could have killed her..."

"But you didn't. That's the important thing."

He looked at the petite woman, her green eyes following his every move now, trying to understand him, as if she no longer trusted him quite as much as she had before. Freya's eyes were green too; he'd noticed the panic in them. He'd felt a surge of pleasure from that, and that's when he'd realised what he was becoming. He realised then what he needed to do too.

"I've got something I need to do," he said, opening the door. "See you next week."

As Smith disappeared and the door closed behind him, Melissa leant against the bench and breathed deeply, attempting to regain her composure. It had taken all her willpower to avoid running for her life when the mood had changed in the cramped confines of the examination room. Idly, she wondered whether she should inform her colleagues or the police about her patient, but she could think of no easy way to explain why she'd treated him so late at night and still appear professional.

**

Freya opened her hotel room door and found Tilpin and Eoin waiting for her.

"One day I'll open my door and find an empty room," she chided.

"We wanted to know how it went. Was there anyone interesting there?" Eoin asked.

"Did you go dancing?" Tilpin added.

Freya looked at the two werewolf women sitting on the bed and removed her jacket, shaking her head. "No. No one interesting. No dancing. I talked to a reporter, had half a bottle of lager, got into a fight, had some..."

"You got into a fight?" Eoin interrupted.

"Only a little one," Freya said, holding her thumb and index finger up a small distance apart. "I think he gave me a bump though," she added, feeling the back of her head.

Tilpin moved quicker than Freya expected and suddenly she found her head being examined by the young werewolf. "Do you feel dizzy or sick?" she asked, pulling away and holding up some fingers. "How many do you see?"

"I'm fine," Freya said, pushing Tilpin away, "it's just a bump."

"So what happened?" Eoin asked.

"Well there was a misunderstanding and this bloke just lost it."

"What did you do?" Tilpin was back on the bed now, wide eyed.

"When did I do anything?" Freya barked back indignantly. She caught Eoin's eye and deflated slightly. "Okay, it may have been my fault, but he overreacted. Just because I didn't know who he was!"

"So who was he?"

"My opponent at Havoc..."

Eoin gave her an appraising glance, but Freya ignored her this time.

"I think Stern may have set me up. She was all ‘you must choose your friends wisely', and now this nutter is my opponent." Freya growled slightly in annoyance as she walked ‘round the room.

"So why didn't you know who he was?" Eoin asked her.

"I don't know." She began to count off on her fingers. "I've spent the last year worrying about Infinity, winning and losing my belt, finding and losing Stephen, the formation of the NHFC, Darkness going mental, Revenant turning up, going home and bringing you lot back with me, Dante leaving..." Freya took a breath, "...speaking of which, he's got married and we weren't invited. His friends, people who would do - and have done - anything for him, didn't get an invite."

As she paused in her rant the room's telephone started to ring. She snatched it up before either of her companions could get to it. A voice on the other end announced it was the hotel front desk.

"Hi?"

Freya listened to the voice on the other end, her eyes widening.

"He is? What does he want?"

She rolled her eyes as she got her reply.

"Right. Okay. I'll be down in a sec."

Freya placed the handset down on the cradle.

"So who was that?" Eoin enquired politely.

"Him. Atomic Welfare." Freya looked at their blank faces. "The guy the got in a fight with..."

"Are you're going down to meet him?" There was a note of worry in Tilpin's voice.

"I'll be fine," Freya told them, waving off their concerns, "he's not going to be able to surprise me like that twice."

**

Atomic Welfare stood in the hotel's reception, still wearing his tuxedo. He shifted from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable. Not because he stood out so much, but because of what he was about to do. He saw Freya step out of an elevator. She was still wearing the dress she'd had on earlier. He attempted to give her a winning smile, but she didn't return the expression.

"So what did you call me down for? An apology, or did you want to finish what you started in the alley?" Freya placed her hands on her hips at the lack of immediate reply. "Well?"

"The first one. I want to apologise."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I have...anger issues.... Which," he continued quickly, as Freya opened her mouth to say something, "doesn't excuse what I did, but I would like to remain more man than animal. So here I am...owning up to my mistake."

Freya stood looking at him for a second. Gingerly she approached him. He looked cautious, and then stunned as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

"That was for apologising," she smiled as she pulled away. "And this," she said as she hit him as hard as she could across the jaw, "is for trying to beat me up, you dick. Who hits a girl in a dress this expensive?"

Atomic Welfare stared at her as he held his chin. "W...what...?"

"You heard me, Captain Transatlantic."

"But...I apologised...you're supposed to forgive me. I'm the good guy!"

"What? Where did you grow up? The 1950s? If you hit women in 2007 they hit back. It's called equality."

He shook his head. "This is ridiculous," he growled, "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

Freya smirked. "Maybe you should have done the right thing back at the party and we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Are you trying to goad me?"

"Maybe. From what I saw in the alley though, you don't need much goading."

He gritted his teeth as he felt his muscles tense. "Don't make me angry...you wouldn't like me when I'm..."

"Oh fuck off. I get enough of that catchphrase junk from Darkness."

With a roar, Atomic Welfare charged towards her, spearing her into the marble floor. The receptionist on duty considered phoning the police, but would have to come up from behind her desk first, so opted to wait for the excitement to die down.

Welfare pinned Freya to the floor with a hand around her throat. He reared back and balled his fist, driving it down towards her face, only for Freya to prove quicker than him, and his fist to smash into hard marble. Freya used the distraction to push him off her and roll up to her feet. She grinned as Atomic Welfare slowly picked himself up, looking down at his knuckles which were now coated with blood.

"You done yet?" she taunted. "You won't survive long in this fed if you let one little hand injury bug you, you know."

Welfare grinned as he straightened up. Without pause, he hurled himself towards her again, but Freya neatly sidestepped and tripped him, sending him face-first into the hard floor. She bounded to her feet and sauntered over to her downed opponent. Grinning, she reached for a handful of his hair, but the giant suddenly rose, lifting her up with him. Unable to react in time, she felt his massive hands close around her waist and throw her through the air over his head to land heavily on the floor.

The wind was forced from Freya's lungs as she could only stare as Atomic Welfare picked her up effortlessly, spun her over and then smashed her through a nearby glass coffee table. Shards of glass spun everywhere and Freya felt dozens of tiny cuts open up across her exposed flesh.

"This is the last time I wear a dress in a fight," she croaked.

Welfare advanced on her. "You're tough," he observed.

"You have no idea," Freya replied as she pulled herself up through the remains of the coffee table. She brushed the glass off herself and turned around just in time to see her assailant's fist hurtling towards her.

At the exact same moment, they both stopped. Freya stared at the man's fist which, seconds ago, had been bloody from its impact with the marble. Now it was apparently unharmed. Likewise, Atomic Welfare gaped at the tiny cuts on Freya's chest and arms which were closing up before his very eyes.

"Uh..." they both said.

Freya pointed limply at her opponent. "You're...not a werewolf, are you...?"

"No...why would I be a werewolf...?"

"No reason."

They both stared at each other for a little longer.

"Well," Freya said, composing herself suddenly, "by the looks of things we could be at this all night."

"I guess so," Welfare replied, finally unclenching his fist.

"How about we settle it in the ring instead?"

"Uh...okay..."

Freya extended a hand, and Welfare shook it carefully. Exchanging a brief nod, the two separated, both confused and feeling somewhat less confident about Havoc.