49: Survivor Series Fallout
11/10/97 –Monday
Week Thirteen
"That was some messed up stuff last night, Fallon."
Fallon both jumped for joy and sighed, turning to face the man that oh-so-familiar Texas voice belonged too. "Well hello Steve." She greeted, ignoring Jackie and Luna's still insistent demands to know 'what happened'. She didn't know! But nobody believed her!
It was sheer hell tonight, some people had no-showed, like Foley, for example, in protest of the Bret being screwed thing. Others, who had shown, were giving DX the cold shoulder. She hadn't even bothered badgering Shawn about it, not yet anyway. He had returned to the hotel room in a piss-poor mood and she had let everything go, not about to rile him.
Today was a new story, and he had been on a roll but neither of them had mentioned Survivor Series.
"You're not going to answer us, are you?" Jackie demanded, sighing when she got a middle finger as a response. "Fine, be that way."
Luna shook her head, walking away with Jackie, leaving Fallon to deflect what was probably another onslaught of questions from someone who wouldn't be so easily brushed off.
"Steve, if you're going to ask, I'm going to tell you the same thing I've told everyone else, I had no idea what was going to happen last night and I still don't know the story." She was going to have one hell of a headache; she could already feel it coming on.
"I believe you."
She blinked, unsure if she had heard that correctly.
"You weren't here last night, word was, Michaels got you the hell out of dodge. He wouldn't have done that if you were in on it." That and honestly, Steve figured nobody but Vince, Michaels and a few others would have known about the screw job, Fallon not amongst those few others because there was no logical reason for her to know. Ignorance could be her protection. "Speakin' of, where is Michaels?"
"Taking a shower." Fallon said, shrugging and leaned back against the cement wall, folding her arms over her chest. She was relaxing somewhat, feeling more at ease now that she knew Steve wasn't about to bug her about last night. "You celebrate winning that title yet?" She asked, nodding at the Intercontinental Championship he held over his shoulder.
"Not yet, it was a bit… hectic last night."
Going out and celebrating sounded like fun, actually, she wanted to just celebrate by having a drink. Shawn was the Champ, on the very top, and that was cause for celebration. She didn't see them celebrating, not anytime soon. "He has been in there a damn long time though…"
"Probably still washin' shit out of his hair from last night." Steve joked, moving to lean against the wall beside her, unable to stop himself from looking down. She was wearing one of her old corset tops, and that top was doing wonders for her upper body. "You know honey," He began, smiling wickedly when she glanced up at him. "I would've invited ya to join me in the shower instead of leaving you out here all by yer lonesome."
Fallon had not missed him taking her in visually, or the way those blue eyes of his had lingered on her chest, and a slow, flirtatious smile spread across her ruby red lips. Married she was, and so was he, but… it was alright to look, just not touch. Right? Right. That and Steve was easy on the eyes, easy to get along with –providing he liked you-, and easy to flirt with. Since the DX thing had taken off, and 'Taker had faded to the background, the lack of drugs, her natural cockiness and 'tude had been emerging.
"Well, it's definitely his loss, isn't it?" She replied, unfolding her arms in order to reach out and trace a finger along his bare shoulder. "You look like you need a shower, Steve, you're soaked."
Steve chuckled at that, watching her finger trailing a path down his forearm. "Beer."
She nodded, not surprised by that at all.
"Think your boy would mind if you joined me in the shower? I could always use help gettin' some of those hard to reach spots."
"He probably would." She sighed dramatically, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Nice to see you again, Steve." She had seen him in passing, but this was the first time they had spoken since the night Shawn had announced their marriage, which was like, a month and a half ago.
Married, she was married. That did not mean she couldn't look though, because Steve was a gorgeous piece of flesh, even if he was bald. Bald on him worked. She laughed when he caught her hand as she turned to go, whirling back to face him, her eyes straying past his shoulder to her apparently finished in the shower husband. Oops.
"You 'bout ready to go, Fallie?" Shawn asked, watching as Steve slowly let go of her hand and kept the smile plastered on his face, both their bags over his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to send this piece of shit packing, just as he'd done Bret Hart only last night.
"Yep."
He grabbed her now free hand a bit harshly, throwing Steve a condescending smile as he pulled his wife against him. "I'm thinkin' we should go back to the hotel and finally celebrate last night, what do you think?"
"I-" Fallon swallowed her words when he kissed her, reaching down to discreetly pinch his side, not overly appreciating being treated so roughly, or the fact that he was yet again… high. What happened to staying drug-free?
"Come on, Frogger." He turned and guided her out of the arena, not sparing Steve a backwards glance.
As far as Steve was concerned, Shawn had just earned himself a stunner for that little stunt, two if he witnessed him handling his wife that way again.
Fallon waited until they were out of the building and near their rental before shoving Shawn away from her. After all the crap they had gone through, this past month getting cleaned up… and this idiot was high! She felt her swollen lips, eyes narrowing. "What have I told you about man handling me?" She demanded slowly, struggling to reign in her temper.
He shrugged.
So she slapped him. "You promised you were done with that shit!" She hissed, shaking her now stinging hand, not referring to the man handling but the drugs. "We both promised, Shawn!" And so far, she was good to go, largely thanks to Hunter.
"I didn't do shit!" Shawn growled back at her, knowing instantly what she meant and shoved her against the car, hazel eyes flashing. "You're going to actually stand there and accuse me doin' something that I didn't do?"
"Yes, because you did do it!"
"Christ, Fallon! Last night I had to do something that will probably haunt my goddamn career for the rest of my life!"
So, that was him sort of admitting he had been in the screw job, Fallon immediately discarded that. She was going to continue maintaining her 'I have no idea what happened' stance, for the sake of her own career, and mental well-being. "Oh bullshit! You hate Bret, you probably fucking loved doing it!" She sneered, reaching around to rub her lower back.
"So I had some green stashed away!" When she opened her mouth, he raised his hand up. "I wanted to have a good time tonight, relax with my wife, but naturally, you had to ruin it with your damn accusations!"
Did he think she was stupid? She knew when he was 'high' and when he was 'coked out', it was obvious. That and his temperament was usually a clear indicator. The initial 'happy' had been replaced with paranoia, anger and some serious mood swings that made her menstrual issues look like fucking Christmas. "Green huh? More like white and-"
"Get in the fuckin' car."
"Oh, because-" She cursed when he literally threw her in the backseat of their rental along with their bags, turning onto her back to kick him in the thigh with the heel of her boot before he could shut the door. "Prick!" She bellowed, watching through narrowed eyes as he limped around to the front of the car, leaning forward to smack the back of his head when he sat in the driver's seat. She then scooted to the opposite side of the car before he could retaliate.
When they got back to the hotel, she was going to call up Luna and pray she had left the arena, there was no way she was staying with Shawn tonight, not while he was like this.
"Think whatever the hell you want, Fallon, I don't give a shit." Shawn kept his eyes forward, though if she smacked him again he'd pull the car over and beat her ass. "You wanna know why I'm pissed off? It isn't because of the coke, which I haven't touched, or even you being a bitch about it! It's because my wife was eye-fucking our coworker and I don't appreciate it! You're my wife, you belong to me, Fallon! You made those vows right along with me woman, so you need to stop your shit with Steve or else! Do I make myself clear?"
"Go screw yourself." She shot back, leaning against the door and simply stared out the window. Grass… yeah, he had smoked weed all right. If he had been smoking the green, his ass would be planted somewhere watching cartoons and eating Twinkies, not acting like this.
Honestly, given all the times she had done it with him, did he really think she wasn't going to recognize the signs? Especially since she was mostly in her right frame of mind these days?
When they reached the hotel, Fallon slid from the car and retrieved her bag from the trunk, ignoring him as she headed inside. Once in their room, she locked herself in the bathroom to change, listening to him ranting and raving in the bedroom. "I'm flushing your coke!" She informed him through the door. Since he had put his bag in the backseat with her… she had raided it, finally discovering a torn section of lining on the inside, nice hiding place.
Shawn kicked in the door, just in time to watch her dump the contents of the small ziplock bag right into the toilet bowl. "You bitch!" He snarled, walking over as she flushed, pushing her back out of his way.
Fallon hit the wall, eyes wide as he stared into the toilet.
"What the fuck, Fallon? Do you have any idea how much that shit costs?" Shawn had to walk away from her before he ended up hurting her, tempted to become a wife beater.
She was definitely going to have a bruised back and she was tired of him shoving her around. She followed him and shoved him so hard he went flying to the floor. "I warned you to stop being so rough with me, Shawn." She said coldly, buttoning the denim skirt she had slipped into, not bothering to change out of the corset top. That required time, and she wasn't staying here any longer than she had too.
Snorting, she stepped over him, retrieving her purse off the bed and slung it across her upper body as she turned to look down at him. "Couldn't keep off it, could you? No, you couldn't, because you're weak."
He was already pushing himself up.
She slid her feet into her flats, throwing her hair over her shoulders. "Well, you have fun with the withdrawal when it comes because I won't be here to enjoy seeing you suffer."
"Where the hell are you going?" He demanded, ignoring everything else she said, more intent on the fact that it looked like she was about to walk out that door. He stopped her before she could, pressing her back into said door and caught her hand before it could connect with his shoulder. "You're my wife, do you think I enjoy watchin' another man fuck you with his eyes and then see you returning it?"
She was hung up on the drugs, he was hung up on some flirting.
