This had been one of the more memorable pay per views that Becky had been a part of on the main roster. Granted, that wasn't very many yet, but the night was still going as she watched the television with baited breath. She had her title match tonight at the Royal Rumble and had almost won it. If not for a kiss from that disgusting old man, and that stupid jacket landing in her face she would have won. She grimaced as she remembered his crusty lips sucking at hers, and felt a shiver run through her body along with an intense rage.
But right now, she was watching one of her good friends fight for his life against Triple H for the WWE World Heavyweight Title. Dean was so close, but couldn't hold on to the ropes. She fell back onto her seat and groaned audibly. He was so close, and she was rooting for him so hard.
After watching Triple H point to the WrestleMania sign she focused more on getting her things together and changing into street clothes. She and Dean were driving together tonight and booked the same room at the hotel, and they could commiserate over their lost opportunities together.
She smiled in earnest as she thought of the man who was quickly becoming her best friend. He always comforted her after tough nights, as she did the same for him. They always ended up walking around the arena together and eating at catering. They had taken to driving together recently, when Roman had won the title on RAW. With all the appearances that Roman had to make and Dean not being invited along, she had asked him if he'd like to ride with her. He had graciously accepted and even let her continue to pick the radio stations.
She briefly entertained the thought that since Roman had lost his title tonight, Dean might go back to riding with him. She hoped he didn't, because she didn't really have anyone to take with her and driving all alone was really boring. She shook it off, confident that her friend wouldn't abandon her like that.
But the minutes drew on after the show as she waited for him to come knocking at her dressing room door as he always did to help her with her stuff. Something that she always protested, but allowed him to do anyway. When he didn't come she looked at her phone with vague hope that Dean had turned his on and sent her a message. Seeing she had a notification she tapped on it to see a file message from Sami Zayn, an old NXT friend, who had been a surprise entrant in the Rumble. When she confirmed the file upload a video appeared on her phone.
It showed a flailing Dean trying to get a bruised Ric Flair, but being held back by security and some police officers. Charlotte was there, still in her ring gear trying to move her father back, from his dazed position on the floor. Dean was the slammed into the wall of the hallway and cuffed. He was led away shouting back awful things at Ric that Becky could only half make out with the audio being as crappy as it was.
She watched it play with widening eyes. When it ended she just stared at the dark screen for a moment before violently clicking her phone off, it wasn't as satisfying as when she had a flip phone, and grabbing her bags herself. She stomped down the hall and into her and Dean's rented SUV. She took the keys out of her bag and peeled out of the arena-parking garage. She clicked her phone to bring up Siri and ask for directions to her intended location.
She pulled into the parking lot of the police station, jumped out of the car, barely remembering to lock it, and stormed up to the officer at the front desk.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" The bored officer asked.
"You guys brought a guy in from the arena. Dean Ambrose. I'm his ride."
The officer looked up at her and actually did a double take. He either recognized her from television or her mussed orange hair and the deadly look she was sporting actually scared the man. He fumbled the telephone in his hands before muttering into it. He seemed to get the answer he was looking for and pushed a piece of paper over to her.
"Just sign that, and he'll be released to you. An officer will take you back to see him once you fill it out."
Becky snatched the paper from the poor officer whom, she rationally knew, was only doing his job. She stomped over through the empty waiting room area and plopped down into one of the many vacant seats. She scribbled her name down on all the places that she needed to on the paper before stomping back up to the officer. All the time she was spending trying to get that idiot out of jail was just stoking the fire of her anger.
Another officer was there who had her follow him into the back where the cells were located. She moved down the line of empty cells before she came to the last one where her lunatic was. He was lying on the bench with his jacket balled up under his head. He was still taped up from his earlier match against Kevin Owens, but looked like he had been napping. Oh, if only he knew the storm that was about to come crashing down on his sorry ass.
She pressed herself against the bars roughly, her hands shaking them. The rattling sound woke him up from his doze and he looked over and caught sight of her. His eyes widened, and she was happy to know that she could put a little fear into the fearless lunatic.
He sat up quickly, like he was a school child about to be scolded. Well… he wasn't wrong, she thought with a wry sense of satisfaction. The guard began to unlock the door and she moved over to it without taking her eyes off of him. The guard swung the door open for her, and looked between them.
"Take as much time as you need. It's a slow night."
Becky stood in the doorway and stared at her friend. He stared back at her through his dishwater curls, still mussed up from his two matches tonight. Finally she hissed, "You idiot."
He winced, "I can explain."
She strode forward and tackled him in a hug, her arms clutching at the back of his shirt. He stiffened in surprise but wrapped his good arm around her returning her tight hug as best he could. She released him and stood above him. She smiled at him, before whacking him on the top of the head.
He whined and tried to fend on her hand. "Bex, that fuckin' hurts!"
"You lovable idiot! How could you do that!?" She tried to hit him again, but he grabbed her hand to stop her.
"You gonna let me answer you, Irish?" She huffed but sat down next to him on the bench. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she waited for him to explain himself.
He sighed and ran fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. She could see how his hand was still bruised. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Oh, I don't know… how about where you thought it'd be a good idea to punch Ric in the face!"
He winced at her volume, "He cost you your match! And he kissed you!" he tried to defend himself.
Becky scowled at him, "That is my war to fight, not yours. I had a right to punch him, you did not. I can take care of myself, Dean."
He grabbed his hair in frustration, "I know you can, but he can't just do that! He had to pay for it!"
She sighed, seeing how angry Dean was at this, "Dean, I get the gesture, but this isn't the dark ages. I can defend my own honor. And I would have gotten him back, but I'm more upset I lost the match."
He knocked his shoulder against hers, a smile beginning to peek through, "Yeah, you stole the show… as usual. I was rooting for you."
She gave him a side glare, answering him in a threatening tone, "From medical, I hope? Especially after that brutal match with Owens." He gave her a sheepish nod, which made her smile. He was stubborn about going to medical, but she was a stickler about such things and would drag him by the ear if she had to.
He glanced her up and down, "Well we know how my body feels right now, but you had that brutal match then Banks kinda stepped on your moment. How are you feeling?"
She sighed, "Sore, but that's usual in our business. I might wanna borrow that stuff you put on your shoulder sometimes for my legs though."
He gave her a little warning glare, "You know that's not all I meant."
She rolled her eyes, "its just Sasha being Sasha. At least she had the decency to get Charlotte too."
Dean seemed to accept her answer, before sighing his eyes looking down at his shoes, "Look, I'm sorry, Becky… I just got so angry that someone would do that to you. You know some of my past shit…" Becky winced, they had told personal stories on the road not too long ago, and to hear how Dean was brought up was not a pleasant experience. And she could see it from his point of view. The women in his life weren't treated the best, and now that he was strong enough to do actually something it was too late for them. "Plus," he continued, "You're my best friend. I felt like I had to do something…"
She felt touched that she ranked that high in his life and reached out to squeeze his hand, "I get it. I do. And thank you for being angry on my behalf, you're a true friend," a cheesy smile lit up his face, "but almost breaking Ric's jaw was not the answer. Especially when we could have been helping cheer each other up in the car or at the hotel tonight."
Dean shrugged, "Yeah… I guess you're right. I just didn't want him to get away with it." He looked over and must of saw how downcast she had become thinking about the matches earlier in the night so he continued, "I was aiming for his nose though… must have been more tired than I thought."
Becky couldn't help but let out a loud bark of laughter. She had watched the video of a flailing Dean being held back by security and Charlotte crouching over her dad who was almost knocked out cold, but she didn't actually see the punch connect. She gazed him up and down for a moment, "Did it feel good?"
He caught her glance and nodded, a small smile on his face, "It'll feel even better when you do it."
She smiled at the thought of her fist connecting with those chapped lips. She shivered in disgust again at the thought of them. Dean must have caught her and put a hand on her shoulder, "Irish, you okay?"
She fought off a smile from the endearing nickname she had come to love and sighed, "Just thinking about how gross it was. I hate that I'm gonna have to have that be my last kiss until I can go out again or get a date or someth-"
She heard Dean mumble something that sounded suspiciously like: 'Please, don't punch me' before taking his hand, putting it on her chin, and tilting her head up towards him. He brushed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened, but she instinctively responded for the brief couple of seconds that the kiss lasted. He pulled back and stood, putting his jacket on.
Becky sat there in a daze, not only had she been kissed twice tonight, unexpectedly, but one of them had been from one of her closest friends. She felt a blush storming its way onto her face, as Dean kept his back to her. The kiss may have only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was a good kiss. Like a GOOD kiss. Something that Becky was going to actively ignore after tonight.
After what would be considered way too long for one to straighten out a leather jacket, which in hindsight was probably him giving her time to get the blush off her face and to decide to either kill him or not, Dean turned around and gave her a shy look, guarded and unsure.
"You okay, Irish?"
She blushed, but nodded. "Thank you. It's weird, but that made me feel oddly better… I don't feel like I have to take seven showers tonight anymore."
Dean gave her a cheeky grin, back in familiar territory of friendly joking. He offered her a hand to help her off the bench, "You may still want to. I'm not the poster boy for cleanliness remember?"
She snorted, but took his hand and pulled herself up. She looped her arm through his and he led them out of the cell area of the jail. He waved to the guard that had let her in.
"See ya, Mike."
The guard nodded back, "Dean."
Becky looked up at him searchingly, "You've been arrested here before, haven't you?"
Dean had the sense to shrug while giving her a sheepish smile. Becky let out a long-suffering sigh as he walked her out to their SUV, ready for a long night of driving and a fitful sleep when they got to their room. "You're grounded, Dean."