BAYLEY/SASHA
Bayley stared sullenly at the blinking cursor on her laptop. The blinking vertical line taunting her as she stared at the blank document on her screen. She'd been in this position for a while now and inspiration was proving frustratingly elusive. Checking the clock in the corner of her screen she saw that she only had a few hours before her deadline.
She ran her hands down her face and tried to bully her brain into a more productive place. There were just over six hours until the weigh-ins for the biggest fight card in the history of MMA and here she was with writer's block. It was maddening, she'd worked for years to be in a position to cover this event and now she was falling down.
In addition to this, she had another reason why she was feeling less than pleased with herself. She'd worked her way up from a blog with fewer than twenty readers to the point where she now ran one of the best MMA news sites on the web. And she'd done this through hard work and making sure to do things the right way. She triple checked her sources, treated everyone fairly, and stayed as objective as possible. Until now anyway.
Feeling the tingling of hair on the back of her neck Bayley closed her eyes as warm lips followed a moment later. She let her head tilt to the side as tiny kisses made their way up to directly behind her ear. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped her as her eyes fluttered closed. A moment later a silky voice purred from behind her.
"Better be writing only nice things about me," Sasha banks said as she snaked her arms around Bayley from behind.
"I shouldn't be writing ANYTHING about you at all…" Bayley said, still keeping her eyes closed as Sasha continued to explore her neck with her lips.
"Aww...and even after what we did last night?" Sasha fake pouted.
"BECAUSE of what we did last night," Bayley said as she finally opened her eyes and turned to face Sasha. The magenta-haired woman's perfectly sculpted face was only a few inches from hers. Every time Bayley saw that face it made her melt a little.
Her 'relationships' with Sasha Banks, if it could be called that, had begun some time ago. Bayley had been offered the chance to interview an up and coming 'future star' in the Bantamweight division. Or at least that's how Sasha's manager, Teddy Long, had described the opportunity. Bayley had heard of Sasha of course, it was her job to know these things and she wasn't quite as convinced as Long that Sasha was destined for superstardom.
On the other hand at that point, her blog had just begun to make some traction. Being approached directly by the manager of a pro fighter had been the kind of break she'd been hoping for. What did it matter if the fighter was a relative unknown and had a reputation for being hard to handle? Bayley was a pro and she would do her job.
On the day of the interview, Sasha had indeed been difficult. She'd arrived late for the interview and had made clear that she thought sitting down with a mere blog journalist was beneath her. Bayley had kept her professional mask on throughout the interview, refusing to be drawn by the other woman. In the end, she'd finished the interview, thanked Sasha for her time, and left as quickly as she could.
She'd told herself that if she never saw Sasha Banks again she would be fine with that. She'd gotten right to work on editing her interview and posted it a few hours later. She'd gone about her business after that until she'd received a surprise phone call the next day. It had been Teddy Long calling again saying that Sasha wanted to meet with her again.
Bayley had been tempted to say no outright, the woman had been such a chore the first time around. But in the end, she'd reasoned that more access to a fighter could only be good for her blog. She'd still been in LA, where the first interview had taken place and had delayed her departure back to San Jose to go to Sasha's hotel once more.
The Sasha Banks she'd met that second time had been an entirely different woman. Charming, open, and endearingly vulnerable. She was so different that Bayley suspected that she'd been coached to try and change public perception of her. When Bayley had exhausted her questions she was preparing to leave again when Sasha had quickly suggested that they get dinner. Bayley had declined since she was concerned about the ethical implications of fraternizing with someone she had to report on.
But Sasha had offered to speak with Long about more access to his other fighters and Bayley had agreed. She'd reasoned that she was low profile enough that no one would recognize her if she was out with Sasha anyway, besides it wasn't likely that any media would be staking Sasha out either. Though she'd told herself that she was there for professional reasons she'd been surprised by how good of a time she'd had.
At the end of the night, she'd turned down Sasha's offer of coffee, explaining that she would never be able to sleep if she had any. She'd gone back to her hotel and the next day had once again prepared to head back to San Jose. To her surprise, she'd again been interrupted by a call from Long, this time offering access to his biggest star a man named Mark Henry. Thrilled by this development Bayley had done that interview only be met by Sasha as she'd left.
"Hey! Did you get to talk to Mark?" she'd asked Bayley.
"Yeah! It was great! Thanks for setting this up!" Bayley had answered eagerly. Sasha had smiled in response but it had been a slightly awkward smile and she hadn't actually said anything. When silence had stretched for awhile Bayley had clear her throat and said something about needing to get back on the road.
"No, wait!" Sasha had blurted, making Bayley raise a surprised eyebrow. Sasha had seemed embarrassed for a moment, something Bayley wouldn't have guessed she was even capable of before she'd found her voice again. "Would you like to maybe get lunch before you go?" Sasha had finally asked in an odd tone.
"Thanks, really, but I need to go I haven't been home in-" Bayley had started to say when, to her shock, Sasha Banks had stepped forward and kissed her. Bayley's eyes and flown open in total stunned befuddlement at this. She'd never so much as held another woman's hand in a non-platonic fashion.
"PLEASE...have lunch with me," Sasha had said softly after they'd broken their kiss. A million responses had lept to Bayley's lips, the most prominent being 'I'm not gay'. But almost as though someone had taken control of her body, her lips had agreed to go out with Sasha.
Things had progressed from there. It was hard for Bayley to think of them as being in a relationship given that she was based out of San Jose and Sasha out of LA. But whenever they could they spent time together and then usually the night. And during these times things were so good for Bayley that she didn't even have time to wonder at her suddenly being in a kind of half same-sex relationship.
In the course of this, she'd gotten to know a Sasha Banks that few other people ever met. Certainly very different from the person the public and other fighters dealt with. And this dichotomy could frustrate Bayley to no end. Sasha had taken to calling herself 'the Boss' in connection with her in octagon career. And along with the nickname came the whole persona that Bayley had first met. 'The Boss' was arrogant, rude, and insufferable.
Occasionally 'the Boss' would bleed into Bayley's time with Sasha. And whenever this happened she'd always been very quick to put her foot down. At first, this had annoyed Sasha to no end, she'd insisted that Bayley wasn't accepting her for her. But Bayley had insisted and through that something odd had happened. She'd become a kind of silent and invisible veto on Sasha's excesses not only in their joint personal lives but in other aspects of Sasha's life.
One thing Bayley had insisted upon for herself during this time was that she would no longer cover Teddy Long's fighting team 'Thuggin and Bugging Combat Sports'. Moreover, she had demanded that she and Sasha keep their relationship private. She knew she'd never be taken seriously or seen as objective if it became known that she was seeing a fighter she covered. This hadn't seemed to bother Sasha and so the arrangement had been made.
This arrangement had held up fine until recently. Sasha had won her last three fights and done so very convincing fashion. She'd knocked out a woman named Sonya Deville in under two minutes. And with each win, Sasha had not only climbed the international rankings but had also gained more prominence in the media. Of course, more attention made it harder for their relationship to remain secret but it also had another effect.
Previously, Bayley had easily been able to simply focus elsewhere in the MMA world. But now, Sasha was the big story in her field or at least part of it. Her upcoming fight for the Brawl For All Fighting League Women's Bantamweight Championship was all anyone could talk about. And at this point, any MMA journalist who was anyone HAD to be covering the upcoming fight.
Back in the present Sasha rolled her eyes as she kissed Bayley on the cheek and stood. Bayley turned and saw she was wearing a black silk robe with the blue trim that she favored. As she walked away Bayley couldn't help her eyes running up and down Sasha's athletic body. She had to shake herself to force her attention back to her laptop.
"You know you're the only who cares about that kind of stuff anymore," she said as she poured herself some water from a glass pitcher. They were in the living room of Sasha's hotel suite in Vegas, far cry from the rooms they'd first met in.
"I assume you're referring to my sense of professional ethics?" Bayley asked as she turned back to her laptop.
"Yeah those," Sasha answered.
"I take my job as seriously as you take your's Sash," Bayley said distractedly, her fingers had begun to type.
"Well can you at least promise you won't write anything nice about Lynch?" Sasha asked archly as she walked over to stand beside Bayley.
"I don't know, she's a damned good fighter...one of the best submission specialists around," Bayley teased.
"Bitch, she's not THAT good and I can outstrike her anyway," Sasha said in an annoyed tone.
"Just don't let her get you to the mat or it's over…" Bayley said in a sing-song voice.
"Whatever," Sasha said as she set her glass down.
"I love you too," Bayley said distractedly.
"Are you coming back over after the weigh in?" Sasha asked as she leaned against the desk Bayley was working at.
"Can't, there is a press event that I want to make it to. I'm hoping I can meet some big names there," Bayley said as she kept typing.
"Lame," Sasha said.
"Besides, won't you be on lockdown for the next two days?" Bayley asked.
"Yeah, but I'm the Boss, " Sasha said with a smirk. Bayley turned and gave her a particular sort of look before turning back to her work. It was usual for a fighter's team to keep their fighters secluded in the day leading up to a match, to keep them out of trouble and at their physical best.
"I'm sure your manager would totally accept that as an excuse," Bayley said. She was in a groove now and the words were flying out of her.
"I'm his star, what's he gonna do?" Sasha asked.
"You aren't THAT big of a star yet, and what he'll do is make damned sure I don't ever get to cover one of these events again," Bayley said.
"What do you mean I'm not that big of a star?" Sasha asked indignantly.
"This is your first big fight, win a few and then we'll talk," Bayley said a grin.
"That's cold."
"Yep."
Bayley stayed at Sasha's place for a while longer, getting the rest of her article down and edited. Then she posted it and made sure to update all her social media accounts. She then got dressed and was about to leave before she turned back and found Sasha shadowboxing by the suite's large windows.
Leaning in to kiss Sasha she said "I gotta go, be brilliant and don't do anything stupid at the weigh-in,"
Sasha frowned and asked, "You're not going to wish me luck?"
"You know I can't pick sides."
"Feels like you definitely already have."
"Bye 'Boss'," Bayley teased as she hurried out the suite. She still had a lot to do before she picked up her badge for the weigh-in.
-
Becky
The sun was streaming through the opened curtain of the penthouse floor at the Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. In the middle of the master bed, Rebecca Knox known as Becky Lynch to her mobs of fans lay spread eagle and very naked. All around here were scantily clad women in various states of undress. The Irish Lass Kicker was still passed out but stirring as the sun shined directly into her face.
"Make it stop." She groaned, grabbing a pillow and covering her head with it. "Who turned on the lights?" She grumbled, her Irish accent heavier with sleep. She opened her eyes to meet the unamused look her very pissed off trainer.
Dave Finlay had never been a real patient man but he hadn't earned his keep by being soft. He was the top trainer for Balor's Celtic Combat Sports fighting brand, The Fighting Irish. The top two stars of that brand were, of course, Finn Balor who was the boss' son but also Becky. Finn was the face of the men's side and Becky was the face of the women's.
Finlay was used to Becky's shenanigans by now, but that didn't make him pleased. "You fuck your way through Las Vegas last night?" He asked, checking his watch before letting out a disgusted sigh. "Put on some clothes lass."
A smirk crossed Becky's fingers as she moved her lithe frame out of the bed and got dressed. She was still narrowing her eyes against the sunlight but otherwise was up. "Why you here Dave?"
Finlay's eyes narrowed. "You're late, your weigh-in was supposed to start twenty minutes ago. Last time I checked you have a huge fight tomorrow in which you defend that." He said jerking his thumb towards the title belt that lay discarded in the corner.
There had been a time before the fame had gone to Becky's head that she would have treasured the title like it was her most prized possession. Now it seemed she had lost sight of her priorities.
Becky's smirk dimmed just slightly. "Shit I forgot about that." She finished dressing and snagged the title off of the floor. Her stomach was grumbling but she knew she didn't have time. Besides she needed to make her weigh-in, so no added food weight.
"You even know their names?" Finlay asked nodding to the group of women still in Becky's bed.
Becky gave a shit-eating smile and shook her head. "Don't need to Dave, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."
If anybody had met Becky now they wouldn't have believed that she had once been a poor street fighter in Dublin. They wouldn't have believed that she often wondered where her next meal was coming from. The girl was living the high life and thought she was invincible.
Tomorrow night would be the biggest night of her career. She was defending her title against a fast-rising star in Sasha 'The Legit Boss' Banks. Becky wasn't worried though, she was unbeaten in her last twelve fights. Five of them by knockout, seven of them by submission. She was twenty-five, arrogant and proud of it.
Dave normally had a handle on her, but she had been getting wilder and wilder. Her head was too far up her own ass, but Dave knew she'd eventually get it out, he just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
Fortunately, Finlay didn't have to take Becky far for the weigh-in. It was only a short elevator ride away. Before she left she put on the clothes that had become a part of her public image, black leather pants, a dark tank top, and a leather jacket. She threw on sunglasses as well, despite the fact that the weigh-in was indoors, her head was still killing her.
She let Finlay hustle her through a string of back hallways until he finally ushered her towards the casino's media room. He knew that there was most likely going to be people mad that Becky was late. Her opponent, Sasha Banks, was already on the stage, looking irritated at having been made to wait for so long. Though apparently, she hadn't been idle.
"...do you feel about Lynch not showing up on time?" a voice was asking from among the sea of reporters. Finlay took Becky's arm and tried to urge her onto the stage but Becky held up a hand. She wanted to hear this.
"She's got every reason to be scared of me, and she just showed the whole world what kind of woman she is. The kind that hides." Banks said with a confident smirk on her face.
"That's a bold statement about a woman who hasn't lost in twelve fights," the reporter said in response, clearly hoping that Banks would say more. He wasn't disappointed.
"Lynch's team schedules her powder puffs just so she can inflate her record. You know how many losses ALL my previous opponents had before they met me? Zero! I don't fight walkovers just to inflate my record. I EARN my wins!" Banks said as she slapped the table for emphasis. Becky thought this was the right moment.
"Is that so little girl?" she said as she strode confidently onto the stage. As she did the assembled media stood as one, shouting questions at her as camera flashes popped all over the room. Becky stood there with her arms raised for a moment, basking in the attention. She then turned to glare over at Banks and said "you see that little girl? All I had to do was walk in the bloody room and no one cares about you!"
Banks narrowed her eyes in response as she said: "very cute, thanks for showing up on time."
"Sweetie, the star doesn't show up on time...that's for the nobodies like you," Becky said as she smirked over at her opponent. Banks didn't answer, instead, she just waved her fingers dismissively at Becky before turning to face the media once more.
"Becky, where were you?" one of the reporters called to her as she sat down.
"Like I just told the nobody: the star doesn't show up on time," Becky said as she adjusted her sunglasses. She didn't remove them, however.
"Were you out partying again?" someone else asked.
"When you're the champ you're always out partying when your Becky fucking Lynch the party comes to you," she answered.
"Any thoughts on Sasha as a fighter? She's 8-0 after all-" a reporter started to ask but Becky cut him off.
"I'm not from here I admit, and I don't much about American schools except that they seem to churn out fat kids. But I assume that they teach basic maths? She's what now? 8-0? That number is still smaller than twenty right? That didn't change? Because I'm 20-2!" Becky snapped.
Sasha had sat quietly fuming through Lynch's diatribe so far but here leaned forward and asked "Yeah? What was the combined record of those opponents?"
"I'm not talking to you girl," Becky said dismissively.
But Sasha kept going, addressing the media now as she said "the answer is that less than half had winning records before they fought her,"
"Oh you can count can you?" Becky asked, finally turning to look at her opponent. She was sneering over at Banks, the other woman was wearing a ridiculous set of sunglasses that had the word 'boss' over the lenses on her forehead.
"Yeah, I can count, I'll start with the numbers of hours until that title is mine! I can also count the TWO losses you have. What is that like? I wouldn't know!" Sasha shot angrily over at Becky.
"Yeah? Well, count this ya cunt!" Becky said as she raised her middle finger to the other woman. Sasha stood quickly at this and so did Becky.
Sasha had every intention of storming over to confront Lynch at this, perhaps physically. She was only saved when she shot a quick glance out at the media. Her anger was genuine but she also knew that a weigh in the fight would drive interest in the fight. And if punching Lynch in her stupid face helped her in two ways then so much the better.
Then she caught sight of Bayley standing off to one side, holding the small video camera she always brought to press events. For half a second their eyes met. And in that half second Bayley's professional mask dropped for just long enough for her to give Sasha a tight shake of her head. The message was clear: don't do it.
Had anyone else in the world tried to restrain Sasha at this moment they would probably have failed. Not only did she not take well to authority in general but her blood was up. But Bayley was a special case. But she couldn't just sit back down now, not now that she'd stood the way she had. It would mean a huge loss of face that she wouldn't endure even for Bayley.
So, thinking on her feet, Sasha lowered her sunglasses. As she did she bent her knees, and slider her hips to one side before coming up with her hands making the 'wave away the haters' gesture. The whole pose had become a part of her 'boss persona' and the cameras lit up for it. When she'd done she reached over pulled her mic off the table, causing a loud feedback while.
Pulling the mic to her mouth she said: "I just thought you'd like to see what perfection looks like since it's been so long since it's been so long for you."
"Oh you're adorable aren't you, I bet the boys just love your little shimmy," Becky said with a condescending eye roll.
"Probably not as much as your girls, whichever ho you're with today!" Sasha shot back.
"Alright! Alright!" shouted Brawl for All's commissioner, Shane McMahon, as he finally stood and raised his hands. He'd let them argue so far but, ever the master of promotion, he'd sensed that the tension was just right now. Becky felt Finlay's restraining hand on her shoulder. For a moment she was tempted to shake her trainer off but then gave an angry shrug. She'd looked forward to making this bitch squeal before she tapped out.
For her part, Sasha's trainer, Bobby Lashley, bent down to whisper in her ear saying "cool it."
"Alright ladies, let's do this weigh in!" McMahon said brightly as she clapped his hands together. Both women allowed themselves to be led in front of the tables by their trainers. Both Finlay and Lashley then positioned themselves between the two women as they stripped down to their fighting gear. They then both stepped onto the large scales an waited.
As they did Becky spoke without turning to face Sasha saying: "are you enjoying this taste of the big leagues' bitch?"
Sasha gave her a fake sweet smile and answered: "I wouldn't know, I'd need a big league opponent first."
"Yeah enjoy yourself you little cunt, when I get you in the octagon I'm going to end this little charade of yours and make sure everyone knows you don't belong," Becky answered. Before Sasha could respond Shane McMahon spoke again.
"Alright ladies, photo time," he said. Both Becky and Sasha turned to face each other, raising their fists up into the face of the other woman. Or at least Sasha did, Becky added her middle finger.
From her view across the room, Bayley sucked in her breath, concerned that Sasha might lose her cool at this. But fortunately, the two trainers hustled their charges away from each other before things could get ugly. Releasing her breath, Bayley kept recording for another minute before she closed her camera. Both fighters had left by now and Bayley would now spend the next few hours editing and writing.
"Well that was quite the show," a familiar voice said from behind her. Turning Bayley found herself facing Mojo Rawley. Rawley was a fellow media member who ran a fairly well known MMA podcast called the 'Hypecast'. He and Bayley often ran into each other and bigger events and they felt a kind of solidarity as two people who had come up through non-traditional media.
"Lynch never disappoints does she?" Bayley answered.
"No she does not, but I was referring to your girl Banks, she showed well," Rawley said. Bayley's heart leaped into her throat at this. How did Rawley know?
"Uh…" Bayley stammered, at a loss for words as she tried desperately to think of an explanation.
"You did those interviews with her, figured you might be a fan," Rawley said, looking confused at Bayley's startled reaction.
"Smooth dummy, why do you just tell him outright," Bayley raged internally at herself before saying out loud: "you know we're not supposed to be fans". This seemed to satisfy Rawley as he laughed.
"Sure…" he said skeptically before he brightened and said "...hey you think you'll have time to do the podcast tonight? I'm going to put a special short episode before the fight". Bayley bit her lip as she thought hard. Despite what she'd told Sasha that morning she'd actually be tempted to visit her that night. Still, you couldn't put a price on the kind of exposure doing live media brought you. Even a podcast the size of Mojo's could mean a bunch of new readers. And besides, if she did the podcast then it would keep her from being able to go see Sasha.
"Alright, I'm in," she said.
The fight:
The stands in Colosseum at Caesars Palace surrounding the octagon were packed, thousands of people had turned up to see Banks-Lynch fight. Video clips from the press conference and, in particular, the sound byte of Sasha saying that Becky had been fed weaker competition were being played over and over on the large video screens. The commentators for the fight were split in their speculation of who would win a decisive victory. The betting odds were almost even, with Becky holding only a slight edge at 3-1 over Sasha at 5-1. These odd's changed slightly as a late surge of wagers pushed Sasha down to 4-1.
Becky's team, for the most part, had kept her in seclusion after the weigh-in debacle. Media access had been cut off and Becky confined to her suite. This edict had been handed down from Mr. Balor himself, he and his team knew their girl well. They didn't want her getting distracted by press headlines or worse by some pretty skirt.
"You need to go out there and focus." Finlay was trying to get Becky in the zone. He cupped her face, pressing their foreheads together. "Who are you?"
"I'm Becky fucking Lynch, Becky Balboa," Becky said, her gaze locking with her coach and mentor.
"Who owns that cage?" Finlay challenged, trying to rile her up even more.
Becky let out a growl. "Me, it's my turf."
Finlay snorted. "You going to let her take it from you?"
"No."
"Then what are you going to do?" Finlay asked, helping her finish taping up her hands. He helped her put her gloves on and stepped back, giving an awkward grimace. It was about as close to a look of approval as she was going to get.
Becky stood up off of her locker room bench, throwing a few combinations before glancing at him. Her gaze was total steel, arrogance rolling off of her in waves. "I'm going to take her arm and I am going to make that little girl tap out."
"You better, I got money riding on you." Finn Balor announced as he walked into Becky's locker room.
"Finn, you walking me to the cage?" Becky asked, surprised to see him. He had already fought earlier in the night and had a black eye and stitches in his eyebrow as souvenirs.
Finn cracked a smile and shrugged. "I'm your good luck charm, don't you dare forget it." He was used to doing promotional events with Becky. They were the faces of Balor's brand, it was only fitting that they back each other up.
Becky threw a few more combos, shadow boxing before she shrugged on her robe. "Well come on Balor, I got a clinic to put on and a Boss to demote." She lifted the hood over her head, Finlay, Balor and a few security guards flanking her as she headed to the octagon.
Sasha was already in the Octagon as the challenger she had come out first to a surprisingly loud ovation. There were quite a few people that wanted to see Sasha dethrone Becky and take the title from her. Sasha took a moment to take in the crowd, she could see Bayley seated with the other media in the press section. She stared at her for a long moment before letting her gaze bounce around. She needed to stay focused on the task at hand, Becky doubted and underestimated her. That would be the Irish girl's downfall and Sasha planned to take advantage.
"She's cocky, she'll come out you aggressive. Let her tire herself out, keep your guard up. No doubt she will showboat a bit when she does that you're going to strike. Don't let her get under your skin." Bobby Lashley was saying. He had seen enough fights to know how it would go.
Sasha nodded her head, focusing on the sweat as it dripped from her trainers face. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Before almost every fight she would get hyper-focused on the little things, her blood pounding in her ears, like a deafening roar, so loud it drowned out Becky's entrance music.
"Remember she's got two inches of reach on you, don't let her tie you up. Strike when you can, short jabs and kicks, knees and elbows if you can get them. You're the better striker, but she may have you beat on submissions." Lashley said before he took a deep breath, praying to god that Sasha would make it through this whole thing in one piece. He wanted her to win but Becky would be her toughest opponent to date.
Sasha's gaze finally drifted to Becky, focusing in as Becky's own entourage gave the champion a pep talk. Sasha was the dark horse in this fight, the younger star going up against the more cocky veteran.
Becky took off her bantamweight women's belt and held it high in the air. "Take a nice long look girly, this is as close as you're going to get to my bloody title."
Sasha just sneered back at her, jumping foot to foot, trying to keep herself limber and pump herself up. "You talk too much Lynch. Time to see if the Irish really can fight, because your luck is about to run out."
Becky growled and advanced on Sasha, but the ref stepped in between them, keeping them separated.
"I want a clean fight ladies, You know the rules. I don't care where we are or how much money is on the line, you test me and you DQ'd." The man said gruffly, before nodding for them to tap gloves.
Sasha held her gloves out and Becky just rolled her eyes, quickly tapping gloves before backing off into her corner. They both put their mouth guards in, waiting for the fight to begin.
The ref signaled for the fight to start and the bell rang. Just as Lashley had predicted Becky came out swinging from the gate, trying to bully Sasha around and set her own tempo for the fight. Becky was throwing some hard jabs, backing Sasha towards the side of the cage. She locked up with Sasha, trying to hook her right leg around the younger fighter's so she could take her down.
Sasha struggled to stay on her feet, blocking Becky's attempt to take her down. She tagged Becky's ribs with a few quick shots, before punching the Irish girl hard right in the thigh and shoving her back. Becky just smirked and held up her thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. She was taunting Sasha again, trying to make the girl angry enough to make a mistake.
Sasha kept her focus however and advanced back on Becky, not letting the girl get that much of a breather. Lashley had warned her to stay on top of Becky, to keep the girl fighting even if it meant getting Becky to showboat a little bit.
"Come on champ." Sasha challenged, throwing a few blistering jabs and a cross that caused Becky to stumble back a bit. Deciding to press her advantage, Sasha switched her stance so she could throw Becky off.
Trying to hook Becky's legs, Sasha surged forward grabbed at Becky's knees to try and take her down. Becky's back hit the cage wall, and with one hand she held on for dear life to keep herself upright. She drove her elbow into the back of Sasha's neck and back, trying to break Sasha's attempt at getting her down. Sasha winced at the clubbing blows, roughly tagging Becky's ribs in retaliation as she gave up on the takedown attempt.
Deciding to go at the champ another way, Sasha threw a couple stiff kicks at Becky's side. She was trying to soften the Irish girl up but it only took a slightly sloppy kick for Becky to pounce. Becky caught Sasha's leg and drove another hard elbow to the girl's thigh. She then pushed as hard as she could, shoving Sasha down to the octagon mat.
Before Sasha could even react Becky was on top of her, driving hard shots at her face. Becky was out for blood, intent on drawing it before Sasha could. Sasha did her best to cover up and ride out the Irish woman's onslaught. The fighter from Boston kept her own body moving, attempting to get out from under Becky.
Being flat on her back was not the position Sasha wanted to be in, not when Becky was as skill at submissions. Having studied enough fight tape, Sasha knew that most of the people who went down on the mat didn't get back up without having to submit to the Irish Lass Kicker.
Deciding not to let that happen, Sasha finally managed a shot to the side of Becky's head that sent her reeling. It didn't buy her much time though before long Becky was back on her with a ferocious right hand that busted Sasha's lip open. Blood poured from her cut lip, but thankfully before Becky could capitalize, the bell for the first round end.
Sasha slowly got to her feet, staggering over to her corner. She had lasted longer than Becky's last four opponents. She was hurting a bit though, and thankful for the water that Lashley handed her, even if it did make the wound sting even worse. Sasha stayed still as her team tried to stop the blood pouring from her lip.
Even though her face was hurting Sasha was proud of herself. Everybody who had counted her out in the first round was wrong. She had survived and besides her injury could have been worse than a bleeding lip.
As the first round ended it was all Bayley could do to stay in her seat. She could lie to herself about being able to remain objective when Sasha was in the octagon as much as she liked. But when Lynch had been able to mount and punch on Sasha her heart had been in her throat. A feeling of deep dread had coiled in the journalist's stomach. Lynch's previous opponents had all gone down in the first round, and it had seemed that Sasha would too.
But she needn't have worried, Sasha fought her way out of the predicament and a short time later the round had ended. Sasha looked battered but still defiant as she made her way back to her corner, thankfully under her own steam. And Bayley took a few moments to try and compose herself, hoping none of what she was feeling had shown on her face.
"Banks is done, she should be thrilled she made it out of that round," someone muttered from behind her. Bayley looked down at the laptop on the table in front of her and took refuge in writing a short summary of the first round. As she did she just hoped whoever had spoken was wrong.
Becky sat in her corner of the octagon trying to catch her breath. Blood was still pounding in her ears and she was sure as hell that she could hear her heart beating so loud that it drowned out the crowd.
"You need to get in there and finish this. Stop playing with your food." Finn said through the cage. He was a lot like Becky, he could showboat with the best of them. However, he also knew that Sasha was proving to be more of a challenge then Becky had accounted for.
Becky waved him off, her eyes narrowing in on Sasha across the octagon. "I got this." She said, already trying to think of how she was going to make Sasha tap out.
Sasha was a lot tougher than Becky had accounted for, but it was time to give the Boss a demotion. Becky stood back up, stealing one last drink of water before marching to the middle of the octagon.
"What the fuck is she doing?" Finn demanded, wondering what kind of mind game Becky was playing at.
Finlay let out a gruff sigh. "Let's hope her fist can cash the check her mouth is signing."
"Come on Lass, ready for me to finish this thing? Why don't you do me a favor and get on your back, I've heard that is what you're good at. " Becky called, still trash talking as she waited for Sasha to come to the middle of the ring and face her.
Sasha had heard enough, Lashley had been giving her some last minute tips but right now all she could see was Becky. She met her right in the middle of the cage, wanting nothing more to punch the smug smirk off of the Irish woman's face.
As the second round began, Sasha was fighting with renewed energy as if the fight had just started. She had shaken off what had happened in the earlier round and she was ready to make Becky her bitch. She struck hard and fast, stinging crosses and jabs. A few high kicks that had Becky narrowly getting out of the way.
The intensity that Sasha came at her with, was unexpected but Becky kept her guard up. She grappled with Sasha for purchase, trying to stop the girl's assault. Becky knew that she needed to slow Sasha down and establish her own control over the tempo of the match. She tried to back Sasha up into a corner and attempted to ram the younger fight into the unforgiving cage.
However, Sasha caught her with a savage kidney shot, followed up by a rough shot to the solar plexus that completely stopped Becky's momentum. Becky lost her footing for a moment and dropped to a knee, long enough for Sasha to drive her knee roughly into Becky's temple twice, dropping the Irish girl to the mat.
It was Sasha's turn to mount Becky, and she went straight for it. Although Becky was dazed, she was still able to cover up her head out of reflex. She kicked at Sasha's shins and knees, trying to protect herself, and not allow her challenger to get too much of an advantage.
The Boss was relentless in her own attack. She grabbed one of Becky's thrashing legs and kicked her square in the knee. She then threw herself on top of Becky, punching her repeatedly in the face to soften her up.
Becky couldn't recall the last time somebody had taken the fight to her like this. The champ wasn't the type to give up though and jostled for position, trying to get Sasha under her. She tried to get Sasha in a choke hold, but Sasha blocked it easily enough.
Becky was breathing heavily now, the shots to her solar plexus had winded her while the shots to her face had busted her open. Blood was pouring down Becky's face from the cut above her left eyebrow, making it hard for the champion to see.
Sasha could feel the champion's warm and sticky blood, but she didn't want to give Becky a chance to get too slippery which would make it hard to grapple. Becky was still moving her hips, trying to wiggle out of Sasha's grasp, finally managing to do so they both got to their feet.
As Becky stumbled forward Sasha struck. Dropping she executed a perfect rolling kneebar, her legs scissoring around the limb as she torqued on Becky's right leg.
"Tap," Sasha growled, she could almost taste the championship.
"No!" Becky fired back indignantly, though that response was going to cost her.
Becky would have screamed in pain as Sasha cinched the hold tighter, thankfully she was still wearing her mouthguard. But she wasn't about to give Sasha the satisfaction of tapping out. Becky bit into her glove, before trying to scratch and claw her way to the side of the cage. She was dragging all of Sasha's body weight on her knee, and Becky wasn't sure she had ever felt a pain like it. It felt excruciating, but her own pride was standing in Becky's way.
There was the sickening pop as her knee dislocated that finally made Becky raise her hand and tap her hand against the mat. She hadn't wanted to tap, she had tried to hold out, but the pressure on her knee was far too much. Tears were streaming down Becky's face half from pain and the other half from the realization that she had just lost the one thing that meant the most to her.
Sasha didn't realize at first that Becky had tapped out until the ref was tugging at her hands, telling her to let go of the hold. Finally releasing Becky, Sasha jumped to her feet, running over to her side of the cage and hugging both Teddy and Lashley. She couldn't believe it, she was now the bantamweight champion. She had waited so fucking long to be able to call herself a real champion and now she was.
"You did it playa," Teddy said, hugging her tightly.
Lashley even looked proud of her. "Good job Sasha." He said patting her head. Sasha was absolutely beaming. She climbed up to the top of the cage, raising a celebratory fist towards the crowd.
Becky lay flat on her back, her knee drawn up to her chest. She was in pain but also feeling numb. She could feel Finlay trying to check on her, but her vision was blurred by the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.
"Come on we need to get you up," Finn said, trying to pull Becky to her feet. When she made no attempt to get up, he looked to Finlay and together they picked Becky up together, carrying her towards the trainers in the back. Ordinarily, a fighter didn't leave the ring until after the announcement of the winner but even a casual glance revealed that something was very wrong with Becky's knee.
She was deathly silent as the trainers stitched up her wound and then began to check out her injured knee. The second they touched it, she was surging forward trying to take swings at them.
"Don't touch it." Becky hissed breaking her silence, her knee was swollen and starting to turn some ugly shades of black and blue.
Finlay shook his head as he tried to hold her down. "You have to let them help you." He demanded.
Becky growled like a wounded animal but allowed the trainers to check it out. The frowns on their faces were making her uneasy so she closed her eyes, trying to focus on something else.
"How bad is it?" Finn asked, casting a worried glance from Becky's knee to the lead medical trainer.
"It really doesn't look good, it's clearly dislocated but she's going to have to go to the hospital for further evaluation before we can be sure," the head trainer said. He cast another critical gaze over Becky's knee before adding quietly: "but if I had to guess I'd say she'll be lucky if she's doesn't walk with a limp for the rest of her life, never mind fight again." The man said, shaking his head. It was clear he felt bad for Becky but there was nothing he could do.
Chapter 2:
Bayley:
Bayley waiting patiently for the intro to stop playing in headphones and then watched as Mojo Rawley turned on his microphone saying: "Welcome back to another edition of the Hypecast, MMA's #1 podcast for news, interviews, and insight my name is Mojo Rawley I am your host. On today's episode, we're going to be talking about the only thing ANYONE in MMA is talking about. Banks-Lynch and the upset of the century. The BFA Women's World Bantamweight Champion, Becky Lynch, forced to tap out in the just the second round. Joining me today is my guest, a woman who was there at the fight with me, ladies and gentlemen this is Bayley Martinez the owner and operator of ."
"Hey Mo, thanks for having me back!" Bayley said happily. As usual, it took her a moment to get used to the sensation of hearing her own voice in her ears.
"You know it Bay, so you were there and you saw the same fight as me that night. So tell our listeners who might not have been able to watch it yet what you saw and what went down," Mojo prompted her.
"I mean, I think I saw what everyone saw Mo. I saw 'the Queen is dead, long live the Queen' put into action live in the octagon. I think we all witnessed the birth of a new dominant force in the women's bantamweight division," Bayley answered as she flipped through some notes in front of her. She didn't consider herself the best extemporaneous speaker so when she thought of a few good things to say on Mo's podcast she usually noted them down.
"Really?..." Mojo asked sounding genuinely surprised "...you're willing to already give Sasha Banks that kind of crown?"
"I don't see how we can't Mo. Becky Lynch has been so dominant for so long it's been revolutionary to women's MMA. And yet what we saw from Sasha Banks in the second round wasn't just a victory but it was an almost offhand victory. She completely overwhelmed the champ and it wasn't even close," Baley said. Though she believed everything she had said as a journalist she couldn't help but feel slight pangs of guilt as she spoke. Because of her complicated relationship with Sasha, it always felt wrong to praise her, even obliquely.
"I can't disagree but still it seems early to be proclaiming Banks the new Queen of the division," Mojo pointed out.
"Look she'll have to prove it of course but if the Sasha Banks we saw in the second round is here to stay then I don't see who could possibly beat her for that title now," Bayley countered.
"Well first we'll have to see if she can show up in the rematch whenever it takes place, I know there are thousands of people ready to click 'buy now' on Banks-Lynch #2," Mojo said excitedly.
"I actually have some breaking news on that," Baley said eagerly.
"Really? Care to share?"
"I don't know...I shouldn't...I mean I want people going to Mo," Bayley teased.
"Everyone go sign up for MM-Ayley's email alerts and subscribe! Now spill!" Mo insisted quickly.
"A source inside CCS tells me that Becky Lynch's knee injury was much worse than was initially thought. I'm told that the rehab alone could keep her out for a year and there are concerns that she might never fight again,"
Becky
The hotel room Becky was staying in was dark, the curtains were drawn tightly. It had been close to twelve hours since she had lost the title and all she could do was stare up at the ceiling. Gone were the girls who had been in her bed the day before. She was alone, the only thing near her was her ice pack.
Her phone was dead, she hadn't even bothered putting it on the charger. No doubt she would have thousands of messages but it didn't matter to her, she simply didn't care. She felt hollow inside, sadness curling up in her chest like it was stuck at the base of her throat. She had been listening to MoJo's post cast when she heard what Bayley Martinez had said.
It wasn't like Becky to be affected by what some journalist said about her, but what had gotten her was that somebody in her camp sold her out. She had listened to it over and over again until her phone died. Bayley's words playing hauntingly in her ear.
"...She may never fight again."
Becky wanted to chuck her phone at the wall. She had hardly slept, the pain keeping her hyper-vigilant. Becky did her best not to move, her knee was hurting like a bitch again. Finlay had been nice enough to help her prop it up and give her an ice pack. The ice had melted hours ago but she didn't have the energy or the willpower to move her leg. She wasn't sure she could even if she tried.
At the arena, the staff had given her crutches to use and tried to tape up her knee. She was supposed to have an appointment later but she didn't even know what time it was. She had to pee, and with great effort tried to get herself up.
She grabbed her crutches, trying her best not to move her leg. She only made it a couple of steps before she ended up tripping. She fell hard to the carpet, the fall triggering the floodgates to open as her knee exploded in pain.
Rolling onto her back she just cried, cried because she was frustrated that she needed help. She cried because she was angry that she had lost her title and that some stupid doctor said her career might as well be over.
She laid there, allowing herself to cry before she forced herself up into a sitting position. She hit the nearest wall with the palm of her hand. Finlay's room was next door and she kept hitting it over and over until finally, the tired looking Irish man let himself into her room.
"Why are you on the floor?" Finlay asked, moving over to her side. He didn't reach down to help her up at first, waiting until she decided to extend her hands up to him.
Becky reached up to him, feeling like a child reaching for their dad after a bad fall. He helped her to the bed before she laid her head back down on the pillow.
"I had to piss, and I fell down," Becky explained, unable to even look him in the eyes.
"You could have called." Finlay pointed out before he looked away from her. "I can help you to the bathroom if you still need to go."
Becky said nothing just nodded at him. She whimpered in pain as he managed to scoop her up carrying her to the bathroom. Dave Finlay was as gentle as he could be as he helped her in there. He knew that Becky was a proud woman and not really the type to want to be dependant on anybody.
Finlay started to pull at her sweats when she smacked his hand away. "I got it." She mumbled, before clearing her throat. "Maybe put my phone on the charger, it's dead or something."
Her mentor sighed but left her in the bathroom, walking over to plug her phone into the charger for her. He was concerned, he had seen some pretty nasty injuries in his day but never one like hers.
Pulling out his own phone, he sent a message to Finn. Balor would be far better at getting through to Becky then he would. They had some weird connection, a mutual understanding that nobody else could quite grasp.
"Ay, Finlay."
Finlay heard Becky calling for him and he walked back in, helping her wash up before he carried her back to her hotel bed.
"I messaged Finn for you. I don't think you should be alone right now." He took her ice pack bag and went to get her some new ice.
Becky shrugged her shoulders, eyes intent on him as she watched how easily he moved. Bitterness was welling up inside of her, and she folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child.
"I didn't ask you to do that Dave." She snapped in irritation.
Finlay tensed at his spot by the sink, he gripped the edge of it so hard his knuckles turned white. "You didn't have to ask me to do that Lass. You may not understand this, but some of us actually care about you outside of the money and the accolades."
His rebuttal silenced her, and he let out a gruff sigh and carried the new ice pack over to her, draping it across her knee. "He'll be here soon, just stay put until he gets here."
Becky watched him leave, finding herself alone once more. Pain echoed in her chest and she felt once more like the scrawny starving teenage Finn had found in Ireland. Her hands and her feet had always gotten her through the most trying times in her life and now it felt like her body was failing her.
Aside from the knee injury and the stitches it took to mend the gash near her eyebrow, the doctor also had feared that she had a concussion. She'd find out later when she actually went to see a specialist for her knee, she knew they'd be running the whole roulette wheel of tests. Becky was dreading it though, dreading finding out just how bad her knee was.
Becky wasn't sure who she was without fighting, sure she had money saved, but she wasn't the type of person who could work a boring nine-to-five paper-pushing job. She returned her gaze once more to the ceiling, wondering what higher power she'd have to pray to, to fix her knee.
The silence felt crippling, as though it was a heavy weight placed on Becky's chest, slowly crushing the air from her body. She had never felt so thoroughly beaten down and discarded before. She was furious at herself for losing the fight, it was safe to say the girl was throwing herself a pity party for one.
It wasn't long before Balor let himself into her hotel room. He took one look at her and gave a little scoff. "You look like shit."
"You don't look any better," Becky replied, though her usual fire was lacking. She felt the bed dip as Finn crawled on the mattress next to her.
"I can take you to your doctor's appointment." Finn offered, it didn't take a rocket scientist to be able to detect the actual concern in his voice. The reason he and Becky had always gotten along so well was that they were cut from the same mold.
Becky gave a non-committal shrug. "It's not like I can get there by myself." She finally turned her head to look at him, noticing the fact that his eyes were closed. "I don't know if I'll be able to fight again." It was hard to say it out loud, hard to force the words out from her throat where they felt stuck in a lump.
"So what." Finn challenged, his eyes opening narrowing slightly. He had never known Becky to be one who gave up.
"I don't know who I am without fighting. Balor's Celtic Combat Sports brand and The Fighting Irish would drop me, we both know that." Becky replied, knowing damn well that they wouldn't keep a crippled fighter on their payroll.
Finn grimaced and waved her off. "My father may own it, but one day the brand will be mine. I'm already the face of it, I have pull." He assured her, he wasn't about to leave her behind. "It's you and me, Bex, it always has been for the last decade."
There had been a time where Becky was sure that she was going to marry Finn, she had slept with him before but they had developed a more platonic relationship. They both slept with whoever they fancied but at the end of the day, she knew she could trust him. He was the closest thing to family she had these days outside of Finlay.
"You're going to be okay Bex, I've got you," Finn promised her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before pulling her close to his chest. "Sleep, I'll wake you when it's time for your appointment."
(Later that day)
Becky found herself once more feeling numb as she stared at the x-ray and results in front of her. She could hear the doctor talking, but his words weren't even registering. The plastic office chair she was sitting in felt uncomfortable, her nails were digging into it, trying to keep her anchored.
"Ms. Knox, did you hear me?"
It was the use of her real name that broke Becky out of her trance. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus on the doctor. His hair was peppered grey and white, and he looked extremely tired. She had already forgotten his name, but he was one of the top level orthopedic surgeons in the country
"No, I am sorry, what did you say?" Becky asked, tiredness coating her voice.
The doctor gave a small and unhappy sigh. "I said you've completely dislocated your knee and torn all the ligaments. You're going to be lucky if you can walk again without a limp. We're going to need to do surgery, the sooner the better."
Becky just stared at him, letting his words wash over her. She willed herself not to cry in front of him and turned her head to stare at the clock on the wall. There was a part of her that felt he might as well be announcing her death.
"Go ahead and schedule the surgery." It wasn't Becky's voice though that said the words, instead it was Finlay's. He had been the one to go in with her to the doctor and had been the one sitting next to her as the doctor had examined her.
"I think we can fit her surgery in for later this evening, I just need to make sure we have a clear operating room." The doctor said, excusing himself from the room and sending his nurse back in to help schedule Becky's surgery.
Finlay was watching Becky with a concerned look. "Are you okay?"
"No." Her reply was short and to the point.
"Do you want anything? Like a snack?" Finlay asked, trying to get some sort of response from her that wasn't apathetic.
Becky slowly shook her head. "I can't eat before surgery." She pointed out, letting her head fall back against the wall. She was praying that surgery would be quick, though judging from the x-rays and what the doctor had said, she seriously had her doubts about it.
(One Month Later)
Sasha
"Not the arms damn it, use your hips! Don't cheat yourself of the power!" Bobby Lashley snapped at Sasha Banks as she drove her fist into one the pads he wore on this hands. Sasha grumbled something in response but did as he said. Sure enough, when her left cross hit the pad on his right hand it did so with markedly more power.
"It doesn't really matter, does it? If I'm striking at 50% I can still knock this bitch out," she said as she switched to uppercuts when Lashley moved the pads. She was about to smirk about this when something suddenly boxed on the side of the head hard enough to send her staggering. "What the fuck was that?" she demanded of Lashley as soon as she could get her mouth guard out.
Lashley leveled a sausage sized finger at her and said "it MATTERS because you respect every single opponent you get into that octagon with! Hear me? EVERY one! You can be the 'the Boss' out in the world if you fucking want but when you are in the ring you are Sasha Banks, the woman smart enough not to buy her own shit!"
Sasha glowered at him angrily for a few moments before she put her mouth guard back in and resumed her punching. The simple fact was that she knew Lashley was right, even if she would never admit it to him. She even appreciated him checking her on some level, though again she'd never tell him that.
Sasha's who life had changed dramatically since she'd won the Bantamweight title in Las Vegas. Before that she'd been a brash relative unknown on the MMA scene. Since then she'd done two magazine covers, a dozen interviews, and been on TV several times. She had really made it finally.
The mainstream media usually only paid passing attention to MMA, but they'd loved Sasha Banks. When they'd gotten wind of her 'Boss' persona they'd eaten it up. Grainy clips of Sasha before her earliest fights began doing the rounds on the internet and she'd suddenly become a hot booking. The highlight had come two weeks ago when Teddy had told her that she was booked to appear on the hottest nighttime talk show in America: Edge TV.
Interestingly the show's producers had asked if Sasha could do the WHOLE interview in her 'Boss' persona. She'd thought this was weird but she'd been willing to agree. That was until she'd mentioned it Bayley via a text message. Her friend's reply message had been unequivocal.
" Don't do that"
"Why not?" Sasha had sent back, confused and slightly annoyed by the answer.
" Just no"
Sasha had still been annoyed when this second message had arrived and had briefly considered ignoring Bayley. After all, they weren't official or anything. But then she'd told herself that Bayley had yet to give her bad advice and besides, she didn't much like the idea of being told to perform on command. It was sort of the opposite of what 'the Boss' stood for.
In the end, Sasha had compromised. When she'd been introduced on the show she'd come out with her 'Boss' sunglasses and attitude. And she'd certainly given 'boss like' answers during the interview, but she'd still always been just Sasha Banks. Then they'd played a round of giant Jenga and it was hard to be 'the Boss' while doing that.
But now it was time to get back to work. Teddy Long had wanted to try and stretch Sasha's celebrity a bit longer but in the end, had bowed to the advice of Lashley and the rest of the training team. Almost immediately after winning the title Sasha had announced that she would be a new type of MMA champion. She would be defending the gold in less than four months against the new #1 contender now that Lynch wouldn't be able to have her rematch.
Long had tried to dissuade her from this but Sasha, full 'boss' mode, had insisted. And so the paperwork had been signed and Sasha was set to defend her title against Japanese fighter named Asuka Kana. Kana had actually already been the world Featherweight champion but had recently shed weight in order to enter the Bantam division. Initially, she'd done this hoping to face Becky Lynch, but now she'd have to face the Boss.
"Kana is too damned good for you to be looking past her unless you want the shortest title reign ever!" Lashley said, bringing Sasha back the present. It was true, Kana was very good. But Sasha knew just want to say to Lashley.
"I'm too damned good for her," she said as she got back to work.
Becky
"Ms. Knox, your physical therapist will see you now."
Becky slowly rose up from her waiting room chair and limped after her the attendant. She could see the chipper look on the PT assistants face and grimaced. She helped herself up on the table and carefully removed her knee brace.
"What's your pain level at today?"
Becky glanced at the girl's name badge. "Well Kelly, my pain level is at a four," Becky replied, turning her attention back to her right knee. She hated looking at it, hated seeing the prominent scar and how atrophied her right leg looked compared to the left one. Her knee was still swollen and discolored various shades of black, purple and blue.
"It is looking better." Kelly offered, still wearing her perky yet annoying smile. She wrote down what Becky said and then got her a heat pack to help loosen her knee up.
The Irish Lass Kicker just stared past her, Finlay had for the most part taken her pain pills and had begun only giving them to Becky when he felt like she needed them. It pissed her off, mostly because it was the only thing that made her not feel as empty inside.
Kelly came back over after some time and smiled at Becky. "We're going to try a few new exercises today okay? We're gonna try for two sets of ten heel raises, two sets of five half squats, and ten minutes on the stationary bike."
Becky perked up just slightly, it was far better than the stuff they had been making her do which was stretching. She didn't want to just do stretching, she wanted to get back to where she had been before her surgery. Kelly still made her do the stretching much to Becky's irritation but she managed to power through it, simply because it meant that she could get to do the other things.
The heel raises were hard, Becky's knee still felt stiff and awkward, it felt like there was a catch in her knee. Grunting and straining against the pain she kept going, trying to power through them.
"You can't rush progress, Ms. Knox, you have to go slow and take your time," Kelly warned her, not wanting to see Becky hurt herself again.
"I'm fine," Becky grumbled, though she already felt gassed by the time she had made it through the heel raises and half squats. She glanced towards the stationary bike, trying to give herself a mental pep talk.
Kelly was looking a bit worried and making some marks in Becky's medical chart. "Perhaps we should wait for the next session before we try the exercise bike."
"No, I can do it now." Becky insisted, not willing to let anybody get in the way of her progress. Perhaps she was too headstrong and stubborn, but that was just part of who she was.
Kelly watched with concern but she had learned from the past few sessions that Becky was incredibly difficult to work with. She helped Becky onto the bike and set the time to allow the girl pedal for ten minutes.
Becky pedaled slowly first, trying to get her knee to bend and extend like it was supposed too. Her quads and her knee were on fire, but she gritted her teeth unwilling to admit defeat. She only made it three minutes before tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"Okay that is enough," Kelly said, trying to help Becky off. She didn't want the girl to get hurt and set her recovery back, by trying to do too much right away.
The former fighter was furious as she quickly put her shoes on. "I could have handled it."
"You would have reinjured yourself, Ms. Knox," Kelly warned, trying to get the girl to see reason.
"I don't need you!" Becky growled, hating that she was still having to rely on people to help her. She hated not being in control, control was something that she craved.
The physical therapist's chipper smile finally started to fade. "I am just trying to help you, if you could just lower your voice and remain calm, we can discuss this like adults."
Becky scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you care? It would have gotten you more business if I hurt myself." She hissed meanly. She grabbed her stuff and limped out, walking to her car. Finlay would have kicked her ass if he saw her, but he was helping the Balors with something, so he had sent one of his more trusted proteges to be Becky's ride to physical therapy.
Getting in the car Becky scrolled through her phone, checking her messages. She didn't feel like talking to any of her close friends, she just wanted to drink and have fun. She noticed she had a message from Carmella one of the girls who held up the signs in between bouts.
Becky had seen her around but had never really paid her any attention. Carmella had always tried to get at her, but Becky had always been to busy flirting with other people or fighting. She decided to message the girl and see if she wanted to grab a drink.
As odd as it sounded, Becky was feeling irritated and discouraged after PT, so she decided she was up for some fun. Perhaps Carmella could be just the right amount of fun she was looking for or at least distract her from the pain.
(Many Month's Later)
Sasha
"Sasha! You're now 8-0 and just set a BFA record for the fastest win ever, how does that feel champ?"
"You know I could tell you that this feels amazing, and that I'm so humbled, and that I'm just happy to be here but I'd be lying to you if I did. And the Boss doesn't lie, so let me put it this way homie. It's special to you, it's special to everyone else, but to me? This is just how I live!" Sasha answered the question as she adjusted her 'Boss' sunglasses.
She was just leaving her palatial mansion condo in LA and had, as usual, been greeted by a mob of assembled media. She'd grown used to this by now, just as she'd grown used to so many other big changes in her life. The biggest being that she, a girl who grew up poor in Boston, now had more money than she knew what to deal with.
Her third-round TKO victory over Asuka had netted her 2.2 million. Sasha's follow up fight against Bianca Bellair had set a new record for a female MMA fight, her own takehome had been 4.1 million. And as the reporter had indicated, that had been for less than twenty seconds worth of work.
"Who was the brunette you were with a few days ago before the fight?" someone else called. Sasha didn't break her stride but she felt an inward twist of her stomach. They could only be referring to when she and Bayley had tried to steal a dinner together. Someone had obviously leaked their location and Bayley had forced to leave via the restaurant's back door. Fortunately, no one had gotten a picture of her. Sasha knew this because if they had it would have been all over the internet.
"You think I remember every piece I spend time with?" Sasha asked airily as she headed toward her car. This was the answer she and Bayley had agreed she'd give.
"Who are you going to fight next?" another reporter asked.
"Who CAN I fight next man? I feel like I"m out of real competition in this division!" Sasha declared.
"What about AJ Lee? She'd undefeated through six fights just like you were when you won the title!" the reporter pressed. Sasha turned to face him and lowered her sunglasses a fraction of an inch as she bent down into her car.
"I said I'm out of COMPETITION...there are plenty of walkovers left around for the Boss," she declared. Instead of getting into her car she stepped back onto the sidewalk and did her signature hip sway pose once for the cameras. They ate up of course. And then a moment later she was gone.
Bayley
"Ms. Martinez, thanks for coming to see me," John Layfield said as he stood from the opposite side of the table. Bayley took his hand and briefly allowed her own to be engulfed by it.
"My pleasure Mr. Layfield, it's not every day the head of the Viper Fight League reaches out to me for a meeting," she said as she sat down.
"No, the pleasure is all mine ma'am. I'm a big fan of yours," Layfield said. He spoke in a broad Texas drawl that only seemed to accentuate his big frame.
"Thank you, I didn't think someone as big time as you would read my blog," Bayley answered. She was pleased with the compliment but also somewhat leery.
"You're the best damned MMA writer in the business in my book," Layfield told her. Rather than answer Bayley just smiled.
She wasn't entirely sure whey she was here. Layfield's people had asked for the meeting but hadn't ever told Bayley what it was about. So far all she'd learned was that Layfield liked to eat in restaurants where a single ticket would pay Bayley's grocery bills for the month. She was actually feeling mightily out of place at the moment. She'd done her best with her appearance but she couldn't help but feel she was sticking out among all the elegantly dressed people.
"So let me get right down to it Ms. Martinez, I want you on my team," Layfield said as she stared intently across the table at her.
"What do you mean?" Bayley asked.
"I'd like you to become one of the VFL's web writers, we've got a good group at but I think you'd be a damned fine addition," he said.
"You can always just link my stories from my site," Bayley said, unsure why on earth she would suggest this to him. But Layfield just shook his head.
"I want your name in-house, it means something in MMA and it would be a big win for our web team," he explained.
"What would that mean for my site?" Bayley asked.
"We'd want your exclusive by-line so you'd have to take it down," Layfield said. Bayley's heart sank at this and it must have shown on her face because Layfield added: "of course I know how much it means to you so we'd pay you at a figure that should help compensate". He then named a figure that made Bayley's eyes widen in surprise. It was more than most major sports writers made at large outlets.
But she still hesitated as she bit her lip and thought furiously. Layfield was offering her economic security in return for doing what she loved. And yet was much more than just a website to her. It had been her passion since she'd graduated from college with a writing degree. She'd spent countless hours grinding away for it, providing content that would be seen by almost no one. In some ways, she missed those days.
She missed the thrill of waking up to see that one of her posts had gotten a handful of views and shares. Feeling free to celebrate with too much whiskey the first time one of her stories had received 100 views. She'd lost little perks like these with more success. Not that ever regretted how far she'd come but sometimes it was hard not to look back with nostalgia. But now she had a chance to really improve her life and she had to do was accept Layfield's offer and take down her site.
It was foolish to even have to think about this, she told herself. Just take the deal and start writing for VFL. She'd get over the loss of her site in time. Or at least that's what she told herself over and over again. Layfield didn't press her for an answer that night, only asking that Bayley get back to him by the end of the week.
" You shouldn't take the job ," Sasha Banks told her on the phone later that night.
"Why not? It's a great opportunity," Bayley insisted.
" Because I've met Layfield and he's slimy, and I've heard all the VFL writers do is write puff pieces for their fighters," Sasha answered.
"Since when do you read MMA news? Or anything for that matter?" Bayley asked, legitimately surprised.
"Ha-Ha...I'm just trying to save you from doing something I know you'll regret later,"
Bayley was surprised by this answer. Surprised and touched. She knew that Sasha was a lot more vulnerable and sweet than her 'Boss' persona suggested. But she'd noticed more and more recently that she showed it less, even with Bayley. This had left her feeling slightly alone but she hadn't said anything. But here now was a reminder why Bayley continued to jeopardize her professional standing and reputation for the other woman.
After a long pause, she asked: "...you really think I shouldn't do it?"
"He doesn't deserve you," Sasha said simply. Bayley thought silently about this for a long time. Eventually, Sasha asked, " am I seeing you again soon?"
"You going to be able to sneak away?" Bayley asked.
" Probably not soon, training hard you know?"
"Then you can let one of your OTHER women keep you entertained," Bayley teased.
" It's not like that and you know it ," Sasha said sounding wounded. Bayley knew that Sasha slept with other women, and sometimes men. And while she'd be lying if she said this didn't hurt a little she didn't have much room to complain. She was the one who refused to allow them to be 'official' so long as Sasha was living the life she did. Bayley wasn't much for the party lifestyle.
"Whatever you say 'Boss'..." she said teasingly before her voice sobered and she added, "...but Sasha?"
" Yeah?"
"Thanks for the advice,"
Bayley turned down Layfield's offer the first thing the next morning. She then returned to work turning into something special that she could share with the world.
Becky
"You know we need to do this right?" Dave Finlay asked, looking to Balor, Sheamus and a few of the other Balor's Celtic Combat Sports athletes. Finlay had assembled them and The Fighting Irish squad because he wanted to hold an intervention with Becky. It had been six months of utter chaos after her surgery.
Becky was drunk more often than not, hoarding her pills and getting pain pills from her little girlfriend Carmella. The self-proclaimed Princess of Staten Island had been nothing but a bad influence on Becky. Carmella would get Becky into all sorts of fights, and quite honestly the relationship was toxic, it was like everybody but Becky could see that.
"I know why we need to do this, but Becky isn't going to take it well." Finn already knew what Becky would do if she felt cornered. She had been taking shots and swipes at them anytime mentioned her possibly having a problem.
"Either we handle it or your dad does." Finlay knew the senior Balor would have no problem throwing Becky to the wolves.
Finn pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. "I'll handle it, let's just get this intervention over with." He checked his watch, knowing at any moment Becky would be walking through the door. Finn practically had to beg her to show up, saying he'd buy her lunch.
The second Becky walked in, she raised a brow, surprised to see Finlay, Sheamus, Finn and some of her other friends. "What's going on?" She asked hesitantly, her guard already up.
"We need to have a talk with you," Finn said, nodding to Sheamus to block the door. He needed Becky to listen to him, her erratic behavior was getting worse and worse.
Becky felt her heart thudding in her ears, her fight or flight instincts kicking in. "Why?" She said the word softly.
"You're making us look like assholes, Becky. We worked hard to build this brand and you're sabotaging it." Sheamus said as he leaned his back against the door.
Finn groaned, shooting the taller man a glare. This was not the way to get Becky to listen to them. "What Sheamus means, is that you're acting reckless and it's not doing you any favors."
Becky's demeanor shifted and she balled her fist. "So what are you trying to say, Finn?
"If you keep going down this path, my dad will fire you. There are no ifs, and or buts about it Bex. You need to come to heel." Finn warned. He hated seeing Becky like this, but she was giving him no choice.
Finlay reached into his briefcase and pulled out a variety of magazines, most of which features Becky on the covers. "Becky Lynch - former champion now a disgraced Athlete. Becky Lynch - from the top of the mountain to the bar floor." Finlay tossed them at her feet, giving a disgusted sigh.
"Your little cunt keeps talking to the media, she isn't on your side. She's selling you out." Finn hadn't like Carmella and now that she had her claws in Becky, he was concerned. "She's dragging you down."
"Don't talk about my girlfriend like that," Becky growled grabbing a handful of Finn's shirt, ready to punch him out.
"You do that and you're done." Finlay had tried to be there for her, but he was getting tired of being burnt repeatedly.
Becky turned on him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "I don't need you, you bastard. You can quit on me, you're fired." She snapped, her hold on Finn loosening.
Finlay rose to his feet and just shook his head at her. "I hope you figure your shit out, kid." He then pushed his way out of the room, unable to be around her anymore. He couldn't watch her destroy herself, it was killing him inside.
Sheamus followed him out, unable to look at Becky any longer. Their disappointment in her was palpable, but Becky didn't care.
"You going to leave me to." She asked locking eyes with Finn.
"You keep burning these bridges Rebecca and soon you'll find there won't be anybody around. You think your little girlfriend is going to love you when your money runs out because I can guarantee you she won't." Finn stared at her, trying to find any glimpse of the girl he had grown up in Ireland.
Becky felt her heartbreak in half, tears of anger and frustration threatening to fall. "You can go to hell, I don't need you, Finn. I'm fine by myself." She spat, she roughly slapped him across the face trying to get a reaction out of him. "Fire me, you bastard I don't care."
Finn touched his stinging cheek and clenched his teeth, trying his best not to react with more violence. "We're done Bex, your contract is terminated effective immediately, you are no longer part of Balor's Celtic Combat Sports or the Fighting Irish. I wish you the best but stay the hell away from me and my company. You're no longer welcome." With that Finn turned and walked out of the room, leaving Becky alone with just the magazines that detailed her spiral.
Becky waited until he was gone before she sank down into her seat, tears rolling as waves of sadness washed over her. The Balor's Celtic Combat Sports and the Fighting Irish had always been her family. Finn had always been her family and she wasn't sure who she was without them.
She wasn't sure how she'd bounce back, but she was going to make them all pay for giving up on her. It felt like the whole world was against her and counting her out. Becky was going to make them all regret the day they had written her off.
(One year after the Lynch/Banks fight)
Bayley
"Like this?" Bayley asked as she stared directly at the camera a few feet in front of her.
"A bit higher, at the red light," the ESPN producer told her. Bayley nodded, trying hard to keep her incandescent grin from her face. It was all she could do not to hug the man. After so many years of hard work and toiling in obscurity, she'd finally made it. She was going to be on ESPN. Who cared if it was only a three-minute hit? It was still on the worldwide leader.
In the months since Sasha's fight with Becky Lynch Bayley's own career had begun to take off. Her site now counted its hits in the tens of thousands rather than hundreds. Here articles regularly made it onto aggregate sites and she was becoming a sought-after expert interview on MMA topics. And now came the crowning achievement.
"Remember, you won't be able to see them but you'll hear them on a four-second delay so just try to act as naturally as you can. Your tendency will be to try and gesture like we all do but just remember not to," the producer explained as he clipped a mic to Bayley's shirt.
Despite the fact that Bayley would only be appearing from the shoulders up she'd taken great care with her entire outfit and makeup. A simple white undershirt, and a white jacket, with just the barest amount of makeup. Bayley wanted to be taken seriously, so she kept it to just eyeliner and eyeshadow.
"Can you give me any more pointers?" Bayley asked nervously. Her excitement from mere moments before having turned into trepidation.
"Just be yourself, they asked you on the show because they wanted YOU," the man said. Bayley nodded, she wasn't sure if that advice was actually helpful but it felt like it was. It also settled a small debate she'd been having with herself up until that very moment. Reaching up she pulled her hair out of its bun and gathered it into her trademark side pony.
"Now I'm ready," she said.
"You're a natural, they'll love it," the producer said as he moved to stand behind the camera. Bayley was doing the hit from inside her house in the room where she did most of her writing and editing. The background wall behind her would be covered in MMA memorabilia. A moment later the producer held up five seconds and began counting backward. When his last finger dropped Bayley heard a voice in her earpiece.
" Let's welcome in my guest, she is the owner and operator of , one the webs BEST sites for MMA news and analysis. All of it provided by this woman, Bayley Martinez. Bayley, thank you so much for joining me today ," came the voice Montel Porter, the ESPN host.
"Thank's for having me," Bayley said, smiling at the camera.
" So we're one year removed from the Banks-Lynch fight that marked the end of the title reign of Becky Lynch and the beginning of the meteoric rise of Sasha Banks in the women's bantamweight division. Bayley, you were at that fight, at the time could you have ever guessed that we'd be where we are now? With Sasha Banks dominating the division and Becky Lynch almost literally falling off the face of the earth? "
"Honestly Montel no, I could never have foreseen this. Unlike many of colleagues at the time I thought that Banks had a great chance of winning but HOW she won was truly remarkable. Of course, we all assumed there would be a rematch if Lynch lost but thanks to her knee injury we were robbed of that." Bayley told the camera.
" Let's talk about Sasha Banks. Since that fight, she's been on a brutal schedule of training and fights and she's now 9-0. The Boss has not only been dominant but has also become a genuine cultural figure. You see her everywhere wearing the glasses. You interviewed Sasha Banks very early in her career, did you see the potential for what we have now back then?"
Bayley's heart and jumped at the mention of that first interview but she kept it from her place as she said "you know I'd love to tell you that I did and that I somehow knew this was all going to happen but I can't. The Sasha Banks I talked to wasn't 'the Boss' yet and all I knew about her was that she was a great striker. We still see that but I don't think anyone could honestly claim that they KNEW this was all going to happen."
" Sasha Banks says that she has no true competition left in the bantamweight division. As I look around at the possible contenders for her title I have to say I don't think she's wholly off base. Can you see anyone right now who represents a clear threat to her title?"
"You know I don't think that it's wise for us or for Sasha to think like that. No one gets to the pro level in MMA without being a dangerous fighter. Any given night any of them could have their own moment like Sasha had against Becky Lynch," Bayley countered.
" Maybe so but you gotta admit that the Boss' swagger has served her well so far, and to my point, you didn't name anyone specifically that you thought could beat her,"
Bayley grinned as she answered "alright if you want some specific names I'd say that Sarah Logan has the kind of ground game that could give Banks some trouble in an extended fight. Katie Lee Burchill has enough size that she might be able to keep Bank's at bay while she waited for her moment."
" Okay, Okay, let's hope we see one or both of those fights then! Now let's go to the other person who was in the cage over a year ago. Becky Lynch went through a very public and very steep nosedive in the months after that fight. We know she slacked on her rehab and that in the end, Celtic Combat Sports dropped her. Now it's been a while since anyone heard from her at all. Why do you think things went so badly so quick for her?"
Bayley had to think about her answer for a moment before she said: "I want to say that I've never met Becky Lynch so I'm just speculating here-".
" That's OK we love that here!"
"Well, then I would say that, from what we've all heard for years, Becky Lynch really defined herself by her greatness in the octagon. And I think the news she got, learning that she might never fight again...that would be jarring for anyone. But for someone who had sort of built their identity around themselves as a fighter? I can't even imagine what that would do to your head."
"Wow, Bayley Martinez: MMA writer extraordinaire and shrink!"
Bayley laughed as she said: "Don't worry I just play one on TV."
" I love it! So one final question for you Bayley. Seemingly no one in the MMA world knows where Becky Lynch is now, or what she might be doing. Where do you think she is and if you could talk to her what would you tell her?"
"I wouldn't want to try and speculate on where she is or what's she's doing Montel. Wherever and whatever I hope she's happy and doing well. And if I could talk to her right now I'd say what I just told you and add that I hope someday we can see her back in the cage."
Becky
Becky let out a shiver as she limped down a sidewalk in Boston, she tugged her dark hoody around her trying to fight the cold. She was looking for something in particular when a video screen in a corner store caught her attention. She saw a video playing, a familiar face on the screen.
It was her fight from a year ago against Sasha. She winced as she saw Sasha Banks drive her knee into her temple. A moment later the picture changed into a split screen. On the left was Montel Porter, the host, and the right was a woman who was vaguely familiar looking to Becky though she couldn't place her until a name flashed up under her smiling face. Bayley Martinez, that was it, she was some kind of MMA writer.
Becky frowned as she noticed that woman had her hair up in a side ponytail. She was thinking of rolling her eyes when she saw the closed captions rolling across the bottom of the screen. One thing, in particular, had caught her attention, her own name. They were discussing her. She stood staring through the window for another minute until the interview wrapped up.
Though she couldn't hear the TV through the glass, as the segment closed she watched and read as Martinez said: "...Wherever and whatever I hope she's happy and doing well. And if I could talk to her right now I'd say what I just told you and add that I hope someday we can see her back in the cage."
Becky sighed at this as she turned and made to walk away. As she did her mind went, unbidden, back to the fight and the ensuing months. It was astounding how much it had affected both her and Banks. Sasha had become a star and here Becky was jobless and barely four months sober. She hadn't talked to Finn in close to six months, she had hit rock bottom and she hardly recognized herself. Rehab had been hard for her, but she had completed ten weeks there and was trying to somewhat get her life in order.
She had received a strange envelope at the halfway house she was staying at the week prior. The envelope contained a ticket to Boston, an address, and only a few sentences scribbled on a page.
'We've all have fallen short at times in our life. We're owed a fresh start once in a while, so here's your chance. Take the ticket to Boston and go to this address, ask for Ric. He'll help you, I told him to expect you. - S.'
Becky figured the letter was from Sheamus but she didn't know if he knew anybody in Boston. On a whim and mostly because she had nothing else to do, she had taken the ticket and gone to Boston. Now she was wandering the streets looking for this Ric guy's address. Something stopped her then from walking away and she turned back to the TV. It seemed that ESPN wasn't done discussing the fight.
She watched herself tapping out to Sasha and then frowned as a clip of experts talking at the time about how it was likely she would never be a top fighter again. The picture then shifted to a few commentators ripping into her and talking about how much of a basket case she had become. It was a veritable lowlight reel of the past year. Being fired by Balor, her messy relationship with Carmella, her DUI conviction, being sent to therapy, and so many more incidents. It hurt to even look at it, but her therapist at the rehab said she needed to own up to her mistakes.
She felt somebody next to her and turned her head to see a young girl staring at her. "Isn't that you? Aren't you Becky Lynch?" The little girl asked, eyes full of excitement at actually meeting a celebrity.
Becky grimaced and sadly shook her head. "I used to be Becky Lynch, now I'm just Rebecca Knox." She gave the girl a sad smile but obliged when the girl asked to take a picture with her. It wasn't often that she met fans these days, most of them had turned against her. Besides Balor's Celtic Combat Sports had a new face next to Finn's. Her name was Nikki Cross and it was already speculated that she'd someday challenge Sasha Banks.
It was almost comical to Becky, Nikki wasn't even Irish but had been allowed to join the Fighting Irish. She tried not to get jealous or even dwell on that, for the most part, Becky did her best to not even think about fighting. It was hard, but she was getting to a point where while it still felt hopeless she was looking into doing other things.
With a sigh she set off, asking directions until she found what she was looking for. The address the mysterious person had sent her was none other than retired boxing great Ric Flair's. Apparently, the man now ran a boxing and mixed martial arts gym. It seemed whoever had sent Becky the address meant for her to go inside.
Charlotte
Charlotte Flair stared out her second-floor office window, down to the street outside. Ever since her dad had started getting older she had been helping more and more with the gym. She helped run his books, helped do the day to day operations, even trained a few fighters. She had never gone pro but she had a good amateur record.
They had called her the next big thing, but after her brother died, she just couldn't find her passion for it anymore. So instead she trained others and managed the business side of her father's business. Many people wanted to cash in on the boxing legend's name, make a franchise out of his gyms. Charlotte, however, refused to sell. She didn't want anybody to sully her dad's name.
She watched as a woman approached the front door. She frowned as she did so, there was something familiar about her. A moment later it hit her like a thunderbolt, it was none other than Becky Lynch hesitating at the entrance to her gym. "What the hell is she doing here?" Charlotte asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Ric gave one of his shit-eating grins. "I owed a favor, besides she needs a fresh start and we need an experienced trainer. She can bring more people in."
Charlotte did not look thrilled if anything the blonde looked pissed off. "She's a public relations nightmare, the only reason people would come in to see her is to gape at her. We don't need her and we don't need that kind of attention!"
Ric was just as stubborn as his daughter. "We have the apartment here, she can stay there and watch the gym. It'll be like extra security."
"She has a bad knee." Charlotte scoffed, thinking that Becky's protection wouldn't amount to much. "She'd probably rob us, blind dad. I don't like this." Charlotte said, trying to put her foot down.
"I'm not dead yet, so sorry Charlie but my vote is final and I overrule you. She gets a fair shot if she wants it." Ric warned, before turning his back on Charlotte and walking down the stairs to greet Becky who had finally walked into the gym.
Charlotte was pissed. "I can always put you in a home!" Charlotte yelled after him.
"We both know you won't do that darling," Ric called over his shoulder, before cracking a wide smile. "You must be Rebecca, welcome to Ric Flair's Combat Sports Gym, I've been expecting you. I'm Ric Flair, nice to meet you."
Becky stared from the overly excited old man to the blonde standing at the top of the staircase glaring daggers at her. She didn't know what kind of family spat she had walked into, but Becky already felt uncomfortable.
"Um yeah, I'm Beck-...err...Rebecca" She finally answered, shaking Ric's hand. Becky didn't know what to make of him, but she was hoping that whoever had sent her here had known what they were doing.
