A/N: I saw the recent match of Layla v. Tiffany and this story popped into my mind and ate my brain for two days before I caved and wrote it. I blame Lody for sharing these matches with me (thank you, this was fun), speaking of Lody all of you should go read her fic "A Ring of Their Own" which is like…a million times better than this one-shot. Seriously, it's glorious.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of any wrestling franchise much less the glorious entertainers therein. This story is written for fun, not profit. I make no claim that this is how the ladies are in real life, outside the ring, I have no idea what they ARE like. This is just a story.
Warning: Femslash. Again, I make no claim that anything in this piece of fiction is factual. It's just something I wrote for fun. Hopefully you'll enjoy it too.
*****'*****
THE REAL TEAM LAYCOOL: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
They did their posturing in the ring after the match. Gloating over Tiffany's mussed and limping figure as Kelly Kelly dragged the taller blonde up the ramp and away from the camera's glare.
Michelle McCool smirked at the crowd and raised her co-champion belt high ignoring the twinge in her side where she'd been shoulder slammed earlier. She knew her job, and she'd keep her crowd face on no matter what, no wince would slip through while she and Layla were playing up their roles. They were the best heels in the women's division and Michelle wouldn't let a little thing like pain break the façade she'd spent so long building. So she grinned and smirked and gloated with Layla, ignoring their smaller talented male protégé while they mockingly jeered Tiffany and the crowd, earning more loathing and interest from the fans.
A few more minutes of that posing and Michelle was finally allowed to slip out of the ring and march up the ramp with Layla and the young man close behind. She made sure to turn and flourish her belt at the crowd before disappearing from the cameras' sights into the cool halls leading to the locker rooms.
She handed her belt off to a stage hand and made her way slowly towards the promise of a change of clothes and an aspirin. Layla was quick on her heels, sticking close like they usually did. Their protégé bade them goodbye and vanished behind one of the side doors.
Michelle's left hand came up to cover the pain in her right side and blew a slow breath out between her teeth.
She felt a warm hand through the fabric of her dress and looked over to see Layla watching her with concern, "You alright, Chelle?"
"Tiff gave me a pretty hard knock," Michelle responded, wincing when she forgot a slight dip in the floor and stepped heavily into it jarring her side, "Hurt a rib."
"Well," Layla said, hand rubbing soothing circles on Michelle's back, "We'll have someone look at it."
"Layla," Michelle protested quietly, "It's nothing serious. I've taken harder hits in training."
Layla just gave Michelle a 'look', one that would hear no arguments. It was the same look Layla gave her whenever she thought Michelle was being particularly stupid, or foolhardy, or a 'bloody idiot' as Layla termed it. Michelle had seen that look more than once and knew it was no use fighting it. Layla would have it her way even if she had to drag Michelle kicking and screaming; which she'd done once before when Michelle had refused to see a dentist when she'd had a pain in her tooth. Michelle hated dentists with a passion and would rather pull all her teeth out than let those butchers anywhere near her mouth, but Layla had given her that 'look', thrown the much bigger Michelle over her shoulder, and manhandled her into a car. Michelle tried to put up a fight but it was useless. She still didn't know how Layla had done it but she'd managed to drag Michelle into the dentist's office and pin her to the chair, despite Michelle's struggling, and let the professional do his work. It turned out she'd cracked a tooth during a match and without repair it would have rotted out of her mouth and caused excruciating pain, so Michelle ended up being grateful but after getting treated Layla had refused to speak to Michelle for a week for being a 'git'. It had been the most miserable week of Michelle's life, but she'd learned not to fight Layla after that. She knew what happened when 'the look' was used, and it always spelled unhappy consequences if Michelle didn't obey. And she knew Layla wouldn't hesitate to use those tactics again so she quietly surrendered to Layla's will and meekly followed the short Brit as she was led by the hand to one of the onsite medics.
Michelle thought it was funny that in public the dynamic of their relationship clearly had Michelle as the leader and instigator, while behind closed doors Layla called all the shots. She knew Layla had her whipped, in the ring and out, and she didn't mind all that much. She mostly found it amusing that fans assumed Michelle was in control of anything that happened in their careers or their storylines. Layla was the ideas girl and of course she ran them by Michelle first before pitching them to the execs but ultimately it was Layla who was the driving force behind their rise to the position of co-champions and top heels.
She was broken out of her musings when the medic pronounced that nothing was broken or cracked, just deeply bruised. She'd need rest and no strenuous activity for the next several days (she was glad they had at least a week before they'd need to step into the ring again) but otherwise she was good to go. She felt Layla's grip on her hand ease slightly as the medic left the room and could read the relief in her friend's face. "See?" she couldn't resist, she so rarely got to say things like this, "I told you so."
Layla rolled her eyes, "Better safe than sorry, Chelle. I had to make sure you weren't badly hurt." Layla ran her fingers gently along Michelle's cheek and into her hair. "Now, let's get changed and do dinner with your parents. Then you're coming home with me."
"You don't have to-"
"No arguments," Layla interrupted, leveling another 'look' at Michelle. This one, while not telling her she was being a moron, managed to express that Layla obviously knew what was best for her and she'd do well just to do as Layla told her. "You're hurt and are supposed to rest. I'm putting you to bed and you're not going to get out of it all weekend."
Michelle felt the smirk pulling at her lips. "Hmm, that does sound nice," she said letting her hands wander over Layla's sides and suggestively adding "It's been a while since we've spent a weekend in bed." She waggled her eyebrows up at the amused Brit for added effect.
"No strenuous activity, Chelle," Layla reminded her.
She pouted, "But, we're so good at what we do. It doesn't have to be strenuous. It can totally be not strenuous."
Layla laughed and stepped away, "Come on, blondie. Your parents are waiting."
Michelle huffed, but acquiesced.
They stepped out of the med room just as Tiffany and Kelly Kelly exited the locker rooms.
Tiffany beamed at them, hair still damp from her shower and still full of peppy energy, "Nice job out there, ladies!"
"Thanks, Tiff," Layla replied, "Same to you."
Kelly took notice of the room LayCool had come from, "You hurt, Layla?"
"Not me," Layla said grinning and hooking a thumb in the direction of her taller companion, "You managed to rattle Chelle's cage, Tiff."
"What?" Tiffany said, teasing tones coloring her voice, "Big bad Michelle McCool can't take a little hit?"
"Yeah, yeah," Michelle said a smile on her face, "Laugh while you can. Next time we're in the ring I'll show you how to really rattle a cage."
Tiffany laughed, "Oooo, big talk, McCool."
Michelle put on her best 'heel' face knowing none of them would take this seriously, "Nothing I can't back up, Barbie."
They all laughed and parted ways, the ever polite Layla calling after the others to have a good week.
***'***
Dinner with her parents had been fun, like usual, and it was made better by Layla's presence. It was the first time Michelle had managed to get all of her favorite people around the same table. Layla had had her family in stitches nearly the entire meal, regaling them with stories of her early career and some of the antics she and Michelle had been up to since joining forces.
Layla had told them the dentist story, which had her father howling with laughter and informing Layla that as a young child Michelle had on several occasions completely disappeared on days when she was meant to have dentist appointments so they'd taken to not telling Michelle when they would happen so they could find her when they needed to. He told Layla about the one time Michelle had spent an entire eight hours holed up in the neighbor's doghouse just to get out of an appointment, they'd found girl and dog curled together and sound asleep shortly before dark. Michelle could only grin while the tales were traded. She wished she'd thought of trying that again with Layla but knew she was too big to hide in doghouses now.
***'***
After dinner Layla had driven Michelle to her, Layla's, apartment and told her to go to bed. Michelle had been exhausted enough not to argue. She collapsed onto Layla's bed face first with a groan not even bothering to change, which earned her an exasperated eye roll.
"You should put some pajamas on," Layla informed her from her position by the dresser where she was taking her own advice.
Michelle rolled over and held her arms out, "Help me."
She'd put as much pout into her voice as she could, which must have worked because she felt Layla's warm hands tugging off her shoes and then gliding softly up her legs to the bottom hem of her dress, pushing it up further and further until Michelle had to lift her hips off the bed and sit up slightly for the garment to be slipped over her head. Michelle's body hummed, Layla touching her always had this effect, driving her crazy and soothing her all at once.
Now clad in just her underwear, Michelle lay flat on the bed, "Can't I just sleep like this?"
"Only if you want me to ravish you in your sleep," was the joking reply.
Michelle's eyes opened and she quirked a brow at Layla, a mischievous smile plastered on her face.
She watched Layla's eyes rake over her body, she felt the gaze as if it were a caress and her body flushed under such intent regard. She watched Layla's tongue slip out and moisten dry lips, and she wished she were feeling that tongue against her own. She watched the tongue retreat and teeth worry Layla's bottom lip, and that was almost enough to make her groan and abandon the bed altogether. She watched Layla blink heavily and shake her head. She heard the Brit mutter to herself like a mantra, "No strenuous activity. No strenuous activity." She watched Layla turn and pull out a night shirt for Michelle, the same one she usually wore when she slept here, and resigned herself to a night of just sleep and cuddling (which was wonderful in its own way, but not what she'd been longing for).
Layla approached her with the nightshirt a flimsy barrier between them, "Sit up. You're not sleeping like that."
Michelle complied, holding her arms up for Layla to drop the shirt over her head. Once her arms and head were through Michelle reached out and pulled Layla close by the hips, settling the Brit between her knees and placing gentle but heated kisses all along Layla's throat. Layla responded by tilting her head to give better access, a soft sound issuing from her lips, and threading her hands through Michelle's hair.
"Chelle," Layla groaned, "We can't."
"I know," Michelle replied, placing kisses up Layla's neck. "I just," she dragged her lips up an inch or so and planted another kiss, "want," she reached Layla's jaw, "to be," Layla's chin, "close to you." Finally their lips met and they sank into a long and languid kiss, Layla exhaling against Michelle's lips as mouths opened and tongues met in a familiar dance. There was no rush, no urgency, in the kiss. They were content to bask in the each other's presence, their bodies completely familiar to one another and yet always eager to meet again.
Michelle wasn't sure for how long they stayed that way, lightly entwined, but she quietly mourned the loss of contact when Layla found the wherewithal to pull away.
She felt Layla's hands cup her face, felt Layla's lips peck her own, "We should sleep."
Michelle nodded and allowed herself to be guided under the covers, but she didn't allow Layla to escape all the way to the other side of the bed. She just tugged the smaller woman on top of her and settled her against her side, ignoring the soft grunt of protest, before reaching out and flicking off the lamp. She wriggled and writhed until her body was so tangled with Layla's she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. It was her favorite way to sleep.
Just before she drifted off she informed Layla, "As soon as my side doesn't hurt anymore, we're going to be making up for lost time." She let her hands roam over Layla's backside, squeezing a particular area lightly, to make sure her meaning was clear.
Layla chuckled and pressed a light kiss to Michelle's neck, "Yes, dear."
THE END
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A/N: So endeth the story. I had fun with it, did you? Please review. And if you liked this piece, after you review, go find Lody's "A Ring of Their Own" (it's so good you guys, one of my favs).