~Part II~

The group of scientists, Ric, and of course, Shawn stood around the crate in yellow hazard suits. Who knows what was in that crate anyway- Had to be safe.

"Shall I do the honors, Flair?" Shelton asked as he grabbed a crowbar.

Ric nodded and took a step back. "Yeah, just be sure to be careful. Who knows what he's got in there."

Shelton took a deep breath, prying the top off with relative ease. There was a deep collective breath, as the anticipation grew. Shelton peered into the box, bursting out with laughter. "Unless Italian suits are hazardous, I think it's safe to say we can take these suits off."

"WHAT!?" Ric shouted as he jumped up inside the crate, throwing suits out of it left and right. He'd spent months upon months of time and energy on surveillance for a box of suits. "YOU!" He pointed to Batista, and chucked a suit coat at him. "Take that to Edward and Doug just to make sure he didn't lace the lining with something illegal! Some one get me the heads of intelligence this instant!" Ric fumed and started off toward his office. "Shawn, go with Dave and get me the lab findings, then meet me back at the office ASAP!"

Shawn didn't argue, scuttling down the hallway after Batista. He followed him into the lab, smiling at the two scientists.

"Boss said for you two to run tests on this." He said chucking it at Doug. The silver haired man caught it and held it up.

"Italian silk suits?" Doug asked and raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that's the illegal shipment."

Edward snatched it out of his partner's hand, glancing over the stitching in the seams. "I guess so, because if he's trying to pass THIS crap off as hand made, there's going to be a lot of angry customers."

"What do you mean?" Shawn asked and sat against the table.

"This is shotty, cheap, streamlined stitching. Like the stuff used to make Doug's shirt." Edward explained and handed the suit coat to Shawn.

"Hey!" Doug made a face at Edward. "I'm putting my foot in your food later."

Shawn bit his lip as he looked at it, nodding to not look stupid. He hadn't the slightest idea what Edward was talking about! "So... Bischoff's big shipment were counterfeit Italian suits. Well it's not Ric's big drug bust like he was hoping for, but at LEAST it's something. I'd better go tell him before he bites off poor Eugene and William's heads."

"Alright- Make sure you come back, we have a whole new bag of tricks for you." Edward said as he smacked Doug in the face with his clipboard.

Shawn grinned, dancing eagerly back and forth on his feet. He loved getting new weapons! "I'll be back soon!" He said and took off toward Ric's office. On his way, he passed a very glum William Regal and Eugene, looking as if they were about to meet Death itself. "You were right! It WAS something illegal!"

"So Mister Flair isn't gonna be mad...?" Eugene asked and twirled his hair in his fingers contemplatively.

"No Eugene, you don't have to worry. I'll go smooth things over." Shawn smiled his winning smile and started into Ric's office. "Hey Ric, I got great news! Those suits WERE illegal! They're knockoffs."

Ric frowned a little and sighed. "Well I suppose that's good enough. I was really hoping for drugs though!"

Shawn patted Ric's hand sympathetically. "Oh its okay, I'm sure there'll be drugs next time."

"I hope so." He muttered and took a sip of coffee.

"The suit thing kind of makes sense though..." Shawn began and took the liberty of using the corner of Ric's desk as a chair. "He was in the club earlier and he wanted a lap dance from me-"

Ric spat out his drink and looked to Shawn. "Did you give him one?!"

"Well earth to Captain Tom! I'm a striper, incase you forgot and caught memory disease from being old." Shawn said and made a face at him.

"Incase YOU forgot, I happen to be YOUR boss, and if you ever want to run around in chaps legitimately again, I think you should shut your damn mouth if you know what's good for you."

Shawn pouted and clamped up.

"Now, did he like your dance?"

"Ew yeah, he liked a little TOO much in fact."

"Hmmm...." Ric rubbed his chin thought, gazing to Shawn with interest.

"Hmm? I don't like when you go 'hmm'! The last time you 'hmmed', I ended up in a South American prison in nothing but a thong and some stilettos!" He protested and pouted greatly.

"Oh, well that was along time ago."

"THAT WAS LAST WEEK!"

"Right... Anyway, seeing as how Bischoff seems to have taken a liking to you, we need to capitalize on this situation while we still can!"

Shawn made a face at him. "And how do you propose I do this...?"

"You said it yourself- You're a stripper. Do what you do best- get him to open up to you. Shawn, you're in the best possible position to be the fly on the wall."

"But what if he wants to hold hands?! Or kiss?! Or have sex?!" Shawn shouted and started to get really worried. It was a curse being this beautiful!

"You knew the dangers when you took this job, now go out there and seduce him!"

~

That very next day, Shawn was dreading Flair's order. He saw Bischoff out there- no doubtedly waiting for him to come on out. He looked himself over in the mirror, snapping the sides of his spandex zebra print short-shorts. He had a pair of fishnets and thigh high white boots, along with sleeveless high necked spandex matching zebra print shirt. It cut off at the end of his rib cage, allowing him to wear a silver belly chain. Adjusting his hat and dangly earrings, he walked out onto the runway to 'welcome to the jungle'.

Shawn pouted to himself as Bischoff raised a fistful of fifties in the air, forcing a smile and waving as he approached the pole. Along with the other usual catcalls and attempted gropes. He gave a desperate look to Bret, who wasn't paying attention, wishing that he'd be a man and help him! But sadly, that just wasn't going to happen. Bret knew that the dancers weren't to be interrupted unless in extreme cases. He mounted the pole, grinding his crotch against it as he tried hard not to think about Bischoff eagerly watching his legs and his ass as danced around it.

He finished up his routine and walked back to dressing room. He didn't have to do another dance for that night- but he did have lap dance duty in about an hour. He took a seat, looking down at his big zebra print boots. Why me? Only I could get into some mess like this when all I ever wanted was to be a stripper. Ggghhh I don't want to go out there and pump Bischoff for information! I don't even want to think about the words 'pump' and 'Bischoff' in the same sentence! Why does it have to be so hard being a stripper crime fighter?!

"Hunter-" Shawn reached out and took Hunter by the wrist. "I'm going to go take a nap before I go out on the floor. Can you come get me in a few minutes?"

Hunter rolled and his eyes and sighed. "Sure thing. It'll be my number one priority."

Not sensing the sarcasm, Shawn pecked him on the cheek and ran off toward his dressing room. A little nap will do me good! Shawn thought eagerly, and began undressing out of his little zebra print get up. After brushing his long hair out into golden waves, he threw a thin and silky (yes, zebra print as well) short robe on. Unaware of the show he was giving to the opportunist watching from Shawn's door way- He had forgotten to close it.

"Oh you are beautiful..."

Shawn 'eeped' and jumped up, looking at Bischoff with wide blue eyes.

"You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen... The second I saw them, I knew you were gonna be alllll mine. C'mere, honey- You and I have a very important date to keep..." Bischoff had a cloth in his hand, which he used to smother in Shawn's face.

Shawn gasped- his eyelids fluttering like mad. He trash his arms about, knocking over a vase of flowers on his vanity. He met the floor with a thud, and everything went completely black.

~~~~~~~~

"HBK! HBK!! Shawn you damn whore- PICK UP!" Ric shouted into the phone. Shawn's belt buckle pager was going off the hook- no answer after twelve times of trying. "Mother fucker- where the hell is he?!" Flair growled and rubbed at his temples. He flicked the switch on the intercom, paging Edward and Doug. "You two! Have you heard from Shawn!?"

Doug answered the page with his usual relaxed drawl. "Nope- Sorry Flair... We could check on the HBPS- Heartbreak Positioning System."

"You put a global positioning chip in Shawn..?"

"We told him it'd give him special video game playing abilities."

Flair groaned to himself- why did he always have to hire the dumb blondes? "I'll be down to the lab in a moment..."

~

Ric looked up at the large tracking screen, watching the blip on the grid. "Now, I don't understand- You're telling me that Shawn's practically near by?"

Edward nodded. "Just down the street, it seems."

"...Then why the hell hasn't he picked up the beeper?!"

Doug made a face and began to zero in on the position. "Hang on will ya? I'm getting an exact read on where he is... There we go! 1515 31st street..."

"That's not the strip club." Edward frowned a little.

"No- It's Black Cherry Tower..." Ric murmured blinking up at the huge grid. "Bischoff's casino. I didn't tell Shawn to go straight into the lion's den! I just said to pump Bischoff for information!"

"Flair! How could you say something like that?! Poor Shawn! You sent a lamb to the wolves! Bischoff's not some over costumed comic book villain, he's an evil genius! Who knows what he's capable of?"

"Well Edward I... Damn it all! I wish I knew what he was doing... This might be some kind of plan he created-"

"Maybe someone at the club knows... What if he was taken, or the place was held up- Shawn could be at Bischoff's against his will!" Doug frowned. "We should head on over there- ASAP."

Flair's eyes widened. The last thing he needed were Edward and Doug helping him. They broke out and bickered EVERY TEN MINUTES! And that was all well and good in the lab, but not out there. Oh no. "No no- I can handle this by myself. You should stay right here guys. I don't know what I'd do if my two best scientists were injured." Probably through a party- No more constant nagging about his curtains not matching the decor of his office. Edward and Doug seemed happy about that, leaving Flair to escape without causing a serious hissy fit.

~

The rain was beginning to fall as Ric stepped out of his limo in front of Mounting Pleasures. Adjusting his hat and hurrying into the club, the older man was surprised to find the place totally empty. "W-What is this?! This is a strip club! Where's the dancers?! Where's the customers?!" He turned around to look at Bret, or so he assumed due to Shawn's descriptions and love filled ramblings. "What kind of a club is this?!"

"We only have four dancers." Bret shrugged. "They're all out having dinner. Cept for Shawn. He's taking a nap."

Ric frowned. That wasn't true. Shawn was currently in some kind of peril. "Would you mind taking me to see him..? I'm his Uncle."

"Uh, sure. Come on." Bret walked out from behind the door leading Ric toward the back. The older man took great care in trying to spot any signs of struggle on the painted walls of the back room. They reached Shawn's dressing room soon enough, and Bret began to knock. "Shawn! Hey! You've got a visitor!"

After a few minutes of no answer, Bret opened up the door. "What a klutz- There's glass and water everywhere!"

Ric pushed past him, the glass crunching beneath his hand made shoes. "God damn it..." He muttered stooping over to pick up the zebra print belt that had been discarded in Shawn's kidnapping. Well, that answered his earlier questions. There was no elaborate plot by Shawn to infiltrate Bischoff's casino, this was an all out abduction by either henchmen or the man himself.

What was he going to do? It wasn't as if he could send HBK out to save Shawn- obviously that was impossible. They really needed to hire more agents. Ric's eyes suddenly brightened. That's it! He just needed a temporary back up... Some one strong, brave and...

"He could have at least picked this up before he left." Bret grumbled and moved a large chunk of glass with the tip of his shoe.

Bret seemed to fit that bill pretty well. "That's a shame- Do you have a few minutes? I need to explain something very important to you..."

Read chapter Three of Three