Perseverance

by Bob the Taco Thief

The 4 Horsewomen in the world of MMA: The story nobody asked for.

2. Chapter 3 & 4

Becky

Ric Flair had made his money as a boxing great, he was well respected in the fight industry. Having been a sort of wild man, he knew what a wayward soul looked like, and that's what he saw in Becky.

Becky had been in Ric's gym for all of three minutes and yet she wasn't sure she felt comfortable. Ric and his daughter Charlotte seemed to be in some kind of dispute about her being there.

Charlotte was still glaring daggers at her from the top of the stairs, but had finally huffed and stormed off to what Becky assumed was an office.

Becky shifted her gaze from Charlotte's retreating form to Ric. "Is she okay?"

Ric chuckled and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Honestly I ask myself that same question every day." He knew his daughter's intentions were to look out for him and the company. His interest in Becky was more than likely problematic, the girl was a disgraced fighter and a PR nightmare.

"Sir, I don't know why I am here," Becky said after a moment, and truthfully she wasn't sure why she was there. She had gotten the card saying she could find a second chance and redemption there, but she wasn't even sure if it was possible.

Ric considered her for a long moment. "You're here for a second chance."

"How can you give me a second chance?" Becky felt skeptical, she didn't feel like she could trust anybody. She didn't even trust herself much these days. "You don't even know me, Sir."

Ric grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Stop with the Sir crap, I'm not a Sir. Call me Ric, and I think I know you better than you might know yourself."

Becky still felt hesitant, she wasn't sure what he meant by offering her a second chance. She wasn't in shape to fight, she was still working on her sobriety.

"I want to offer you a job. You're a nuclear topic right now sure, but you can fight." Ric had seen some of Becky's fights, she was good when she was focused.

Becky's eyes widened at his job offer. "I can't fight, my knee is still fucked up."

Ric continued on as if he hadn't heard her. "You can use my gym to train, to rehab, you can live right here. There's an apartment on the second floor. It's not a huge apartment, but it's got a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom. In return for living here for free and using the gym for free, you teach two classes a week."

His offer felt far too good to be true and Becky still didn't trust it. She didn't dare allow herself to be hopeful.

"Why would you do this, you don't know me S- Ric," Becky repeated.

Ric groaned in exasperation and gestured around to the gym. "You think that I don't know you girlie, but at one point in my life, I was you! I was the Nature Boy Ric Flair, the best boxer in the world, sleeping with different women every night. I was on top of the world until I wasn't."

The story did sound familiar and it had Becky's heart in her throat. It felt like she had lost everything.

"You're Becky Lynch, don't you forget that," Ric said poking her in the shoulder. "You might have fallen but you can always pick yourself up, you can be Becky Lynch the Irish Lass Kicker again."

Becky frowned and shook her head. "I used to be Ric, I don't think she exists any longer." She didn't feel much like the Irish Lass Kicker anymore.

Ric sighed softly, he could see she was broken. "Well do you at least want the job. I can't make you fight but I can give you a chance to hide out here. I pay a fair wage" He offered.

The more that Becky thought about it, the more it sounded like an at least plausible job. It would get her out of the sober half-way house, give her an income, a place to live and allow her to train. It wasn't that bad of a deal considering all of the options.

"I want the job," Becky said, finally giving in. Having to work two training sessions a week and teaching other people how to fight sounded like a fair deal.

A smile lit up the boxing great's face. "Excellent, you know you remind me of somebody else."

Becky tried to match his smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh yeah, who?"

"My next wife," Ric said waggling his eyebrows playfully. He was joking, of course, well sort of joking. "I am just messing with you Rebecca, come on Charlotte will give you the tour of the place and show you the apartment. She's known to sleep on the couch so she may have to move some of her stuff."

Becky did not look all that pleased with his joke, but she had been humbled enough in her fall from grace to keep her mouth shut. She just gave a simple nod, following Ric as he led the way up the stairs and in the direction of the blonde girl Becky had seen earlier.

Bayley

Bayley Martinez was a naturally cheerful personality. She liked to be liked and was prepared to like most people in turn. This wasn't naivete as some others including, she knew, Sasha assumed. Bayley was fully aware that the world was terrible at times, maybe even most of the time. But she made the conscious choice to be happy anyway, and whether other people realized it or not this took more strength than being highly cynical.

But today even she was struggling to smile.

Just a few days beforehand she'd been in a state of high excitement. She'd been on Mojo's podcast and been surprised, then thrilled, to learn that other guest for that edition would be none other than Mandy Rose herself. A woman who, until very recently, had been a hero in Bayley's eyes.

Mandy Rose worked for ESPN both as a TV personality and writer. More to the point she was ESPN's only female full-time MMA personality. Mandy was almost always the first face ESPN put in front of cameras when there was MMA news. Bayley, who had started from such a humble place, had long looked at her as a sort of measuring stick for her own career.

She'd begged Mojo to let her stay on the show with Mandy, even cashing in a favor or two, and in the end, he'd agreed. All three of them had spent a very pleasant twenty minutes chatting in Mo's studio discussing Apollo Crew's winning the Cruiserweight championship, a story about former boxing great Bob Orton and his investment group, and then the upcoming Sasha Banks-Teresa Blanchard fight.

Bayley had been more than a little star struck during the conversation but she thought she'd held her own. What was more encouraging was that she had a sense that Mandy seemed to like her. She wasn't certain, the blonde woman was wearing her professional mask of polite interest, but she had a feeling. This feeling had both encouraged and intimidated Bayley.

Once they show had wrapped up and they'd both thanks Mo the two women had walked out together, chatting happily. Bayley's intimidation had begun to swell, the more time she spent with the glamorous Rose the more she felt plain. She was even questioning her side ponytail. They'd reached Mandy's car when, to Bayley's surprise, the blonde had pulled her aside and spoken in a confidential voice.

"Hey so, I shouldn't be doing this, but we got a tip about Enzo Amore at the network. It seems like he's more injured than everyone thinks and he's trying to hide it. I guess he's going to try and see a specialist in Vancouver to try and keep it out of the news.: Mandy said quietly but with an excited grin on her face.

"Really?" Bayley had asked eagerly, barely able to keep herself whispering. Amore was a Featherweight fighter who was more famous for his mouth than for his work in the cage. Yet he was still always hovering near the top of his division rankings. For him to be trying to conceal an injury was big news.

"That's what the tip said…" Rose said with a nod "...we're going to be up to our ears in covering the run-up to the Banks fight but we're going to send one of our junior correspondents out there in a few days to check."

"That's so cool! I'll be happy to repost when you do, attributed of course" Bayley said and then hastened to add the last part. To her surprise, Rose shook her head here with an amused look.

"I didn't tell you this to flex Bayley," she said with a smile. Bayley felt the tiniest of fangirl thrills when Mandy used her first name but didn't say anything as the other woman went on: "I can't officially promise anything but IF you were to get there first and maybe pick up the story...there could be another ESPN hit in your future if I can talk the producers into it. One thing though, you have to move quick Bayley, I can hold off my crew for a few days at most but then we'll have to send one of our people."

Bayley was speechless. This was Mandy Rose talking to her and not just talking to her now. Mandy was giving her a legit scoop that could lead to Bayley breaking some top-level news. She felt her own grin threatening to break out and spread across her face but she knew what she had to do as professional. "Why are you giving this to me? It would be huge for you," she asked.

Mandy gave her a half amused half pitying look as she said: "honey, I think I can tell you that my career is going pretty well right now". Both women laughed a this then Mandy added: "But come on Bayley, you know that we're basically the only two women in our field of sports media. We need to look out for each other!"

Bayley beamed at this, totally convinced, as she nodded and said: "thank you so much, Mandy, I don't know how I'll ever repay you!". With that, she couldn't hold herself in any longer and she hugged Mandy.

"Hey there," Mandy said with a laugh as she stood awkwardly for only a moment before returning Bayley's gesture with apparent warmth.

"Sorry, I'm a hugger," Bayley said as she let go.

"As for paying me back, just give me the exclusive interview on the story and we'll call it even," Mandy said. She then took out her phone, asked Bayley's number, and texted her some information. Looking up from her phone she gave Bayley a nod and a grin.

"Done,"

"Then I'll talk to you soon, nice meeting you Bayley," Mandy had said with a smile as she'd stepped into her car. As she'd driven away Bayley had waved goofily for a long time before getting into her own car. She had so much to do.

That had been almost a week ago and now a thoroughly disgruntled Bayley was sitting in an airport bar doing her best to hide her face she watched Mandy on ESPN. She'd taken time to hurry back to San Jose, quickly packed a bag, and grabbed her passport on her way out the door. A few hours later she'd been on a plane headed to Canada. When she'd landed she'd immediately checked into her hotel and begun digging.

She hadn't been discouraged when none of the local sports media had been able to tell her anything. If Amore was being as secretive as Mandy had hinted they wouldn't know anything. Bayley kept digging, chasing down any half lead she could find. She'd even resorted to calling the clinic where the procedure was supposed to be happening, but of course, that hadn't gained her anything.

As two days had ticked by she'd grown more and more panicked. Mandy was doing her a huge favor by sending this scoop her way, and an even bigger one by sitting on it for that time. But she knew that Mandy couldn't be idle forever, she had her own reputation to maintain. In her desperation, Bayley had done something foolish. Thinking to stake a claim to the story and then follow up later she'd posted an item on MM-Ayley outlining her scoop and promising more soon.

But this wasn't the early days of the site any longer. She now had tens of thousands of people reading her stuff and the story had taken on a life of its own. She'd been briefly pleased with this evidence of her own reach. But then things had gone very wrong.

Less than a day later Enzo Amore himself had taken to Twitter to respond. The minute-long video hadn't been kind to Bayley. The quote that had flashed around the MMA world being: "...I don't know who the fuck this broad is but she doesn't know shit". Moreover, the video had very obviously been taken in a tropical location, definitely not Vancouver. Of course, he could have been lying but now that everyone in the world knew where Bayley was there was no chance she'd be able to pick anything up.

She'd tried to text and call Mandy but the number she had didn't seem to be working. Without any other recourse, Bayley had been forced to trudge back to the airport with her tail between her legs. Now here she was watching as Mandy Rose, the woman she'd long idolized, smiled to the camera and eviscerated her.

"...Martinez HAS been doing some great work recently, in particular, that run up to the Banks-Lynch fight" Montel Porter was saying on the left half of the screen.

"OK, BUT, that was over a year ago MVP. What has she done since then? Besides, this was just basic journalism stuff. I don't know who gave her that tip she mentioned but don't we all know that you're supposed to vet your sources?" Mandy responded, her smile never slipping.

"I agree, that was clearly a mistake. But I think it's happened to most of us at one time or another, we get a tip from a source we trust and it turns out to be a bust," Porter answered.

"Sure, look I've only met her once when we both did Mojo Rawley's podcast and she seems nice. Who doesn't love the side pony?..." here both Mandy and Porter laughed "...but in all seriousness, and especially with a story like this where you're dealing with a fighter's health, I just think the media and the fans expect better. I'm honestly kind of disappointed myself, I want to see other women succeed in our field, but maybe I should just take this as a win for traditional media standards over new media". Mandy administered this last twist of the knife with a particularly sweet smile.

"Oh damn, Rose is throwing bombs!" Porter laughed.

Unable to stomach any more of this Bayley threw some money onto the bar and slouched off toward her gate.

Sasha

Sasha was bored.

This wasn't unusual in itself, her brain tended to move so fast that she was bored often. But this was the first time in her life that she'd been bored while in the cage. She found the experience disturbing.

The run to the Banks-Blanchard fight had been as acrimonious as any. Both camps had exchanged insults, there had been the near fist fight at the weigh-in, and now here they were. The winner tonight stood to walk away a rich (or richer) woman with an expected take home almost 5 million, yet another women's record. And despite all of this? Sasha found she wasn't much interested.

Oh, she was fighting for all she was worth. But it turned out that Theresa either wasn't or that 'all she was worth' simply wasn't close to good enough. As her opponent darted forward attempting to kick to the knee, Sasha simply stepped back and then retaliated with a straight left that caught Theresa on the chin. The other woman stumbled backward and Sasha didn't even bother following.

She dimply heard the crowd react to this but it was just so much background mutter. When Theresa came back at her again trying to tie her up it was as though the dark-haired woman was moving through deep mud. Sasha simply sidestepped, tagged her twice on the ribs and then kicked the back of her left knee so hard that it brought Theresa down to her knees. Sasha could have ended the fight here but instead, she very deliberately stepped back and beckoned her opponent to stand.

She definitely heard the roar from the crowd at this. Remembering herself then Sasha hit her signature 'Boss sway' before resuming her guard. This brief bit of showmanship pleased her but when Theresa regained her feet Sasha sunk right back into apathy. Her opponent was just so slow and this whole fight was simply becoming tedious.

Deciding that she'd had had her fun, Sasha determined to end the match. As Theresa shot toward her legs with the speed of a sloth she simply raised her knee to meet the other woman's face. There was an audible cracking sound which Sasha ignored. She threw Theresa down to the mat and a moment later was straddling her, raining punishing punches down onto her face.

It was all over a few moments later.

Sasha smiled through the rest of the post-match niceties. As had become her custom she completely ignored her opponent and instead climbed to the top of the cage to hold her hands up in her 'boss pose'. She beamed when her arm was raised and then kissed her title. But it was all an act, an act that she'd done so often that it had become second nature.

Back in the locker room, she reflected on why she found this sense of ennui so troubling. She decided it had to be because she no longer felt challenged by life. Sasha had grown up in rough circumstances, she'd beaten them. She'd been told she wouldn't make it in MMA, so she'd done that too. She'd heard that she had no business fighting Becky Lynch, and Sasha had beaten her and taken her title.

Now what?

She spent a great deal of time training, and that was satisfying, but to what end? Every opponent she'd faced since Becky Lynch had been no challenge. In fact, they seemed to be getting less challenging with time. With each easy win, Sasha found herself less and less interested in her life. Then there was the boss.

What had started as a way for Sasha to feel confident in herself, and something of a joke had snowballed horribly on her. It used to be that she was 'the Boss' only a fraction of the time. But as her success and fame had grown it seemed that now Sasha was the aberration and 'the Boss' was the norm.

Almost the only times she wasn't the Boss now was when she was with either Bobby or Bayley. She saw Bobby often while she trained, but it wasn't as though there was really an opportunity there. But with Bayley things were harder. Sasha was seeing less and less of her...whatever Bayley was to her. This was due to both of their schedules being busier. But it was also due to Bayley's increasing nervousness over their relationship being made public.

This sparked a brief flare of annoyance in Sasha. Where did Bayley get off being reluctant to be seen in public with her? She was Sasha Banks, the goddamn Boss. Bayley should just be grateful that Sasha wanted her around. But as quickly as these ignoble thoughts arose they died in her heart.

Even if Sasha was either unable or unwilling to try and reign in the Boss, she was aware of the problem. She was also aware that Bayley, and Bobby, were good for her. She might lack the strength to completely pull herself out of her current lifestyle but she recognized that need for people like them. People who still not only wanted to be friends with Sasha Banks but would also tell her AND the Boss no.

An hour or so later when she finally did leave the area to head toward her limo Sasha opened the door to find Zelina Vega sitting inside waiting for her. Sliding into the back seat Sasha hit the control that raised the screen between the passenger compartment and the driver and then turned to face Vega.

"Get over here," she said softly but in a tone of absolute command.

"Yes, boss," Vega purred as she slid across the seat and onto Sasha's lap. Their lips met as Sasha's hands ran possessively over Selina's body. Selina was Sasha's 'girlfriend' though that wasn't a really accurate description of their relationship. Zelina was beautiful and Sasha certainly enjoyed sleeping with her, but to call what they had a 'relationship' didn't seem right.

This melancholy thought interrupted Sasha's enjoyment of Zelina. Not enough to make her stop of course, but enough that her mind was elsewhere. As she went mechanically through the motions with Zelina, her mind was mostly on Bayley. When they finally reached Sasha's house she told Zelina to give her a few hours and then retreated into the rooms where the other woman wasn't allowed.

Dropping heavily onto a couch she stared forlornly at the cases full of mementos of her MMA career. At the photos of her with famous fighters and other celebrities. At the very end of this row, next to her photo with boxing legend Ric Flair, was the one she treasured most of all. The photo that Teddy had insisted she take with Bayley the first time they'd met.

Seized by a sudden impulse Sasha took out her phone.

Bayley/Sasha

Bayley had finally gotten home. She'd been hiding her head under her pillow for a few minutes now when her phone buzzed. She would have ignored it, as she'd been ignoring the MANY calls and texts she'd been receiving, but this was a special buzz. Retrieving the phone she read the message from Sasha.

"Hey" was all it said.

"Hey yourself, good win tonight!" Bayley answered. She didn't really feel like talking but being polite as an ingrained habit for her and besides she was always extra sweet with Sasha.

"She sucked, where are you?"

"I'm at home, had a shitty week," Bayley responded. She hoped Sasha would take the hint and allow her to mope in peace. No such luck.

"Come to see me I'll make you feel better," Sasha answered. Bayley frowned, this answer really exasperated her. She'd just told Sasha she was having a shitty weak and Sasha's response was to ask for sex. Any number of responses occurred to Bayley but she knew the right one to send.

"No thanks 'Boss'."

There was a noticeable delay during which Bayley's phone informed her that Sasha was typing. Finally, the response came: "that was mean, I was just trying to be nice."

"No, you were trying to get in my pants."

"I've never heard you complain before."

"Good night Sasha."

"Come on! Tell me why your week sucked."

Bayley bit her lip as she thought. She was annoyed at Sasha's comment but the idea of having someone to talk to about her week, and Sasha in particular, was appealing. She thought for a few minutes before sent a series of messages explaining everything that had gone down. As before, Sasha took her time responding.

"Rose is a bitch, want me to go after her?"

"NO! I need to fix this."

"Let me help!"

"If I think of something for you to do I will let you know,"

"You know…"

"What?!"

"If we were together I actually COULD help."

Bayley rolled her eyes as she responded: "Sure, where would that leave Zelina then?"

"Dumped, you're worth a hundred of her."

Bayley's frown deepened. She had to concede that she didn't like Zelina Vega in the few times she'd met her, being introduced as Sasha's friend. The woman struck her as the stereotype of a gold digger. She also to concede that part of her WAS jealous of Zelina. But even so, to hear Sasha talk about her notional girlfriend as though she were nothing but an interchangeable component rankled with Bayley.

"Very classy 'Boss'," was all she sent back in reply.

"I don't know what you want from me, Bayley."

"I wanted to talk to my friend Sasha, not the damn 'Boss'"

"Well come to talk to her, I'm here!"

"I said I wanted to talk to her, not drive down to LA to be her current piece of ass,"

"Yeah, seems like you really wanted to talk! More like insult me! I don't know why I bother with you sometimes!"

"Good night" Bayley typed furiously before literally throwing her phone against the wall and hiding under her pillow once more.

Charlotte/Becky

Charlotte had been keeping a watchful eye on her dad and Becky once she had left them. She was silently fuming though, hating the fact that her dad had overruled her. She didn't think that Becky deserved to be there at the gym with them, Charlotte had fought tooth and nail to keep her father's combat sports gym from going under water. Having an unpredictable person, who was a heat-seeking missile for bad press, was not in their best interest.

The blonde spent most of her time having to beat back the sharks that seemed to be circling like they smelled blood in the water. Everybody wanted a piece of her dad's business and Charlotte felt like she was having to be the responsible one. She wasn't even sure if her dad knew how tight money got sometimes.

Her dad had always loved a good charity case, and Charlotte was praying to God that he'd get over this one sooner rather than later. Charlotte knew her dad was a sucker for a girl in tight clothing, the man was like the Hugh Hefner of professional sports, there was no way in hell she was going to let Becky bring her father's business down.

Hearing footsteps approaching the door to her office, she lifted her head right as Becky and Ric walked in. She looked from her father to the Irish woman behind him, who looked like she was pleading for the Earth to swallow her.

"I need you to show Rebecca around Charlotte, I have a meeting to go to. Rebecca is going to be working here and living in the apartment." Ric said, staring his daughter down. He was giving her a warning of sorts. "Alright see you, ladies, later."

Charlotte stared right back at him as he left, her displeasure evident by the look on her face. However, she was a businesswoman through and through so she rose to her feet and extended a hand to Becky.

"My name is Ashley but everybody calls me Charlotte, it's a long story," Charlotte explained, her dad had opened his gym in Boston and had missed his hometown so much that he started calling her Charlotte. It was stupid but the name had stuck through the years.

Becky took her hand and shook it. "My name is Re-"

Charlotte cut her off. "I know who you are." She said, shaking her head. She was doing her best to keep her voice even. "Why don't I show you to your apartment." The tone in Charlotte's voice making it evident, that showing Becky around was the last thing she wanted to do.

Charlotte was once again fuming but led the way out of her office and down the hall. She was doing her best to try and play nice, but her patience was already wearing thin. She supposed it wasn't really Becky's fault, but it was easier to blame Becky than to blame Ric.

The second floor of Ric's building was offices and then, of course, a small apartment. Ric had originally meant for his son Reid to live there but after Reid's death, it had sat empty aside from when Charlotte would sleep there during long shifts at the gym.

Becky trailed behind Charlotte looking around the building that would be her home. "I don't know why your dad offered me this job, but I appreciate it," Becky said, trying to break the awkward tension.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Nobody knows why my dad does anything, he works in mysterious ways I guess." She unlocked the apartment and stepped inside to find the light switches.

Becky had to admit that the apartment was better furnished than she would have thought. It didn't look like it had gotten much use but she liked it. It was small and tucked away in the upstairs and she didn't think she'd have to worry about people bothering her all that much.

She picked up a picture that was sitting on the coffee table, it was of a young man and Charlotte. Charlotte was on the man's back as he gave her a piggyback ride. The man looked familiar but Becky wasn't sure where she knew him from. "Hey, is this you and your boyfriend?"

Charlotte glanced from Becky to the picture in the girl's hands, her face going through a range of emotions. Charlotte crossed the distance between them in about three steps, and Becky was almost positive the woman was going to rip the thing out of her hands but instead, Charlotte took the picture with careful hands.

"Please don't touch that. That isn't my boyfriend, that's my brother Reid." Charlotte said, staring down at the picture. There was a profound sadness that had entered her eyes, a sort of haunted look that came with a great loss.

"I'm sorry," Becky said, understanding why Charlotte had reacted so strongly. Most of the fighting world knew about Reid Flair. He was going to be something amazing but then his tragic death had occurred.

Charlotte took a ragged breath and shook her head. "It's fine, this was going to be his place but he never really got to live here. So I'll try and have his stuff moved out by the end of the week so you can move your stuff in."

Becky didn't even know what to say, she could tell that Charlotte didn't like her. "Alright, well I guess thanks for showing me the apartment," Becky replied slipping her hands into her back pockets so she wouldn't be tempted to touch anything.

The blonde just stared at her before shifting her gaze away. "Look I am going to be real honest with you, I don't like you very much. I may not know you specifically but I know your type, you use people and then throw them away. My dad seems to think for some crazy reason that you are worth giving a second chance too, so I am going to treat you as civil as I can. But let me give you a little warning, if you steal from us or in any way bring your bullshit to my gym I'll kick your ass worse than Banks did." Charlotte warned, venom dripping from her tone. Charlotte was using her emotions to put up barriers, she didn't need somebody like Becky to come charging through them.

Becky felt her own temper flaring dangerously. She had lost everything and she felt like she had more than suffered the consequences. "Look, Ms. Flair, I am not here to take advantage of your father. He offered me a job and I am taking it. I'll stay out of your way and you stay the hell out of mine." Becky fired back. The anger felt good to her, it felt like energy flowing through her, awakening the broken pieces of her.

Charlotte nodded slowly. "Seems we have an agreement, my dad's given you a chance, don't fuck it up." With that Charlotte turned and left, leaving Becky listening to the sound of her receding footsteps.

"What a bitch," Becky muttered, before looking around the apartment once more. She was still questioning if it was worth it to work here if she had to put up with somebody like Charlotte. Still being here was a lot better than living in a halfway house.

Becky

Becky had been working at Ric's Combat Sports Gym for close to two weeks now. She did her best to be polite to Ric and avoid Charlotte at all costs. Things hadn't improved between the two of them, and Becky did her best to stay out of Charlotte's way, lest Becky be struck with the urge to punch then blonde in her perfect face.

The red-head found herself alone in the gym, or at least that was what she thought. The gym normally closed by nine-thirty and Becky had been in her apartment until at least ten thirty. She didn't really want to see anybody.

Emotionally it felt like a low day, she had seen a news clip on her tv of Finn promoting his upcoming fight. It pained her to admit it, but she missed him like crazy. She was angry he had walked out on her, but she knew from a business standpoint it was the right thing to do.

Getting dressed in some work out shorts and her sports bra Becky tapped her hands. The thing she liked about Ric's was that once everybody left the gym it was hers to use. She hadn't made use of it yet, aside from doing some cardio, but she felt like hitting something.

Settling herself in front of a punching bag, she focused her anger and her emotions. She thought about Charlotte and the condescending look the blonde would give her whenever they saw each other. She thought about how it felt to know that Finn and the Fighting Irish no longer wanted her or needed her. Her thoughts drifted to Carmella selling comments and stories about her to gossip magazines.

Before Becky could even process it, she felt tears streaming down her cheeks. She was swinging blindly now, her punching rhythm thrown off. She ended up just hugging the bag and crying as she slowly sank to her knees. It brought back memories of when she had first met Finn.

-Flashback-

Growing up on the rough streets of Dublin, Ireland, Rebecca Quin had fought tooth and nail to escape her father's harsh hands. Her family didn't have a lot of money so if Becky wanted something she had to earn it. She had been in tenth grade when she heard about an underground fight club at her school run by some high school kids. A sixteen-year-old Becky was all gangly limbs, but she knew she could take a beating. All she really had to do was survive a single round and she'd get paid for it.

When she had shown up in the old gym of the local high school, she was one of only two girls there. The other girl was older, broad shoulder and probably outweighed Becky by at least thirty pounds. It felt like every boy in the gym had bet against her, saying her opponent would beat the shit out of her

There had only been one person in the gym who thought Becky would survive more than one round: Finn Balor

Everybody knew Finn, the fight club had been his idea. Everybody dreamed of someday working for Finn's dad, it was a safer profession than having to work on the crime-infested streets of Becky's hometown.

The fight had been mostly Becky getting the shit beat out of her, but she was resilient. She was more agile than her opponent and even after she got hit repeatedly, she still kept getting up. Becky had managed to survive the first round, though she lost mid-way through the second round.

When she finally came too, Finn was kneeling down next to her. He wore an amused expression and gave her an appraising once-over.

"You don't stay down do you Lass?"

Becky groaned and rubbed her aching temple. "It's not in my nature. I'm here to kick ass and take names." She tried to sit up and with Finn's help finally managed too.

"What's your name?" Finn asked, he had seen her around before but had never gotten her name.

"Rebecca Quin," Becky answered, still trying to get her bearings about her.

"Well Becky, you seem to be able to take a lot of hard knocks. You have spirit as my dad would say." Finn stood up and held out his hand towards her to help her up. "I'm Finn, and I'd like to help you train. I have a good feeling about you, but you need a better name than Rebecca Quin. Hmm how about Rebecca Knox... oh or if you get a good submission we could you Becky Lynch, you'd be the Lynchpin of our future women's division."

Becky wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, but he looked excited. It sounded like an adventure and so taking his hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You'd teach me how to actually fight so I don't get my ass kicked?"

Finn nodded his head. "Stick with me and I'll take you to the top of the world." He promised, giving her a reassuring smile.

- End of Flashback-

Becky's heart broke as she thought about the loss of her friendship with Finn. She knew it was her own fault, of course, she couldn't put the blame on him. He had taken a young and broken Becky and made her something, but now she was older and still broken yet he wasn't there to pick her up anymore. He had been the one constant in her youth and early adulthood, the one person she could rely on and now due to her own faults, she didn't have that.

She knew this time she'd have to pick herself up. She slowly got back on her feet and went back to punch the bag, throwing a few combinations. Becky wasn't sure how, but she knew she needed to find her way back to the top of the division. At the very least she needed to persevere and redeem herself.

Charlotte

Unknown to Becky, Charlotte was still in her office. She had heard somebody working out, and had opened her office blinds just enough to peer down and see what was going on. Charlotte watched with interest as Becky attacked the punching bag, she had seen the girl crying and something tugged at Charlotte's heart.

There was no way in hell that Charlotte liked Becky as a person, but perhaps there was an agreement to be made. If Charlotte and her father together could get Becky back at the top of her game and into fighting shape, and if Becky made a full comeback then there could be good press for all of them.

Good press meant more people coming to the gym and Charlotte not having to worry about how they were going to keep the lights on and pay all the bills. They did okay, but it wasn't like the gym had a lot of surplus money. Charlotte watched Becky for a few more minutes before closing the blinds.

As much as she wasn't a fan of Becky, she was going to find a way to help her and in turn, help her father's gym. It was going to take a lot of work and probably a lot of patience to deal with a broken and beaten down Becky Lynch, but Charlotte had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Sitting back down at her desk, Charlotte started at the sticky note that was stuck to her laptop. On the desk was a phone number, that she quickly dialed.

The phone rang for a few minutes before a male voice answered the other end. A slow methodical smile crossed Charlotte's face.

"Hello Mr. Orton, yes I have a proposition for you. I know you've been wanting to buy out my father, you even agreed to buy off some of our debt, but I have an idea that will make us both rich." Charlotte said, barely able to hide the excitement from her voice. She had to take a moment to calm herself down.

'Cowboy' Bob Orton had been a boxer once too, never at the level of success as Charlotte's father but he was the type of man who honored a handshake as a legit type of business contract.

He was one of a long list of investors who wanted to buy out Ric's gym and franchise it. Ric, of course, didn't want to sell, and neither did Charlotte. However, having to keep the lights on wasn't the easiest.

It wasn't like Ric had really taken care of the gym after Reid's death. It was still nice of course with good equipment but it was due for some fresh paint and a sort of image upgrade.

Bob Orton seemed to be considering Charlotte's idea as she laid out her master plan to him. If she could get Becky back into fighting condition and help her win fights, then the cut she'd receive would be more than enough to help pay some of the heftier bills.

As Becky made her come back, it would be a good promotion for Ric's gym.

"Do you think you can trust her?" Bob asked everybody knew of the downward spiral Becky had been on. "She's a recovering addict, she doesn't seem like the type of woman you'd want to throw branding behind."

Charlotte chuckled softly. "My dad seems to think she's something special, for me the jury is still out. I know this though, this gym means the world to me and if I have to bank on a one in a million shot, then so be it."

"Okay, okay what do you need from me?" Orton asked, deciding to entertain Charlotte's idea for the moment.

"I need you to front me some cash, a couple hundred thousand. Get most of the debt collectors off my dad's back. In return, I'll offer you some of my cut of Becky's winnings and a ten percent partnership in the gym's future stocks." Charlotte knew it was a hard bargain, but it was one she was willing to make. If she had to sell a little of her prized possession to keep the rest of it, then it'd be worth it. At least that was what she was telling herself.

The man laughed, though Charlotte didn't know if he was laughing at her or about the bullshit she was trying to sell as apple pie.

"Alright Charlotte, because I like your daddy, I'll front you the cash but it needs to have a good payout." He warned though he was still laughing. "You got balls of steel little girl."

It was Charlotte's turn to laugh. "Yeah well, it's in my DNA. I'm a Flair."

She stole one last look out of the blinds at Becky who was still training. She just hoped the gamble she was making was worth it. Then she had an idea. Something she could do to maybe make sure the gym got SOMETHING out of her experiment, even if it couldn't get everything. Picking up her phone she made several calls in search of a particular number.

Bayley

It took Bayley a moment to remember why she woke up in such a foul mood. Then the memories her exchange with Sasha from the night before came flooding back. Yeah, that was it.

She had just resolved to spend the next few days in her pajamas hiding from the world at home when her phone vibrated on the countertop. It wasn't from Sasha, so Bayley was planning to ignore it but something told her not to. Rolling her eyes and sighing she reached for the device, fully expecting to see some more bad news. Instead, it was a pair of texts from a number that she didn't know with a 617 area cold, Boston.

Intrigued, Bayley opened the first message. It was plain text that read: "After your last story I bet you could use a good tip. Come to Boston, I promise you'll have a story worth reporting". The message was followed by an address. Bayley was tempted to dismiss this as someone being a dick over her last story. So tempted that she almost just deleted the second message when she realized it was a video.

The file opened and Bayley watched the low-quality video that seemed to have been shot through some blinds. Nonetheless, she saw that sender had obviously meant her to see a moment later. When she realized the full implications of it her eyes widened. Without even bothering to respond Bayley dropped her phone and ran to her bedroom to begin packing.

---

Becky

Becky's hands were shaking hard as she stared down at the cell phone in her lap. She was trying to rationalize whether or not she should actually call the number she had entered. Mostly she was wondering if it was worth all the emotional feelings it was going to stir up.

She hadn't talked to Finn in six months, before their fight the longest they went without talking was days. Finn had always been the one person on her side, the one person to save her from herself, and yet Becky had thrown it all away.

"He doesn't want to hear from me." Becky mused aloud, she was talking to herself. Trying to come to a decision one way or another. "He probably changed his number, he doesn't want to talk to me."

Becky set her phone down, she was itching for a drink. Her throat was burning, perhaps maybe from the lump of emotion that seemed caught in her throat. There was no way Finn would want to see her, he was still on top of the mountain. Finn's dad had stepped back and from Becky had heard Finn was taking on more responsibility.

She had seen the interviews, people asked Finn about her and he'd deflect and start talking about his newest rising star, Nikki Cross. It broke her heart but more often than not, Becky just tried to tune it out.

She missed Finn though, she missed talking to him, because he was one of the few people that understood her better than others. She missed having actual conversations with him, talking about the life they had left behind in Ireland.

Picking her phone back up, she pressed the send button before she could chicken out. The phone ringing felt like the loudest sound she had ever heard, but it was almost drowned out by the sound of her heart pounding

It took what felt like an eternity before somebody picked up on the other line.

"Hello?"

Becky wanted to almost weep in relief at the sound of Finn's voice, her heart cracking.

"Hello?...anybody there?"

Becky tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Finn it's me, don't hang up."

A heavy sigh sounded from the other end of the phone. "What do you want Rebecca, you're not in jail are you?"

Becky frowned, but she knew it was a fair question. "No, I'm in jail. I'm sober actually, sober as a judge."

"You didn't answer my question, what do you want?" Finn's tone was clipped, guarded in a way that Becky had never heard him before.

In rehab, they told her that she needed to try and make amends with people that she had wronged. She had been stubborn then, but she knew she needed to apologize.

"I am sorry Finn, I just wanted to call you and tell you I am sorry and I miss you. I messed up, I know that now. I knew it then too, I just couldn't pull my hand off of the self-destruct button if I wanted too." Becky knew she had put Finn through a lot of shit, she wanted his forgiveness but she could understand him not wanting to forgive her.

Finn let out a bitter laugh, sounding like he didn't believe a word she was saying. Becky had cut him deeply, he had considered her family and she had spat in his face.

"You realize you put me in an unwinnable situation right? God Bex, I would have done anything for you. You're always so damn stubborn." Finn's voice was thick with emotion, the fact that he sounded like he was about to cry only broke Becky's heart worse. "What gives you the right to call after six months. There were so many days I thought I'd get the call that they found you dead somewhere. I've spent the last six months worried sick about you."

"You told me not to call." Becky pointed out, Finn had told her not to come around and she had listened.

"The one time you listen to me…" Finn trailed off, taking another deep breath. "You're alright and healthy?"

"Yeah, I'm about four months sober. I have a place to live in Boston, I live above a gym and it pays okay." Becky's voice was shaking. She knew Finn had every right to be angry with her, to resent her. "Finn, I really am sorry."

Finn cleared his throat. "I am glad you're sober Bex and that you got some stability, I don't know if I can forgive you right now. I'm still really angry and hurt, but I'm always going to love you."

"Finn, I love you too, please can we just-"

"Becky, I can't do this with you right now. I'll call you if and when I'm ready to talk, don't call me again." Finn said, before abruptly hanging up.

Becky felt numb as the dial tone buzzed in her ear. In therapy they had told her that sometimes people wouldn't accept her apology, they just hadn't told her it would hurt so bad. Tears were pricking at her eyes but she blinked them away.

Her heart was aching again and all she wanted to do was make the emotional pain, physical. The physical pain was something she was better at handling. Taping up her hands, she decided to go back down to the gym's punching bags and work out.

Bayley

Bayley was a lifelong California resident, she liked her summers long and winters non-existent. Needless to say, Boston in late fall was not at all to her taste. She'd always bridled at the notion that residents of the west coast were 'weather wimps'. Now she understood why the stereotype had developed.

Logan international airport was cold enough, but the brief walk from the terminal out to her rideshare was absolutely frigid. She practically tossed her bag into the back seat of the car before almost diving in after it. To her dismay, it was barely any warmer there. She'd packed her heaviest coat and was wearing a sweater underneath it but somehow they didn't seem to help.

As she gave the driver the address she'd received she saw that she had a new text. Opening it she frowned when she saw it was from Sasha. She was still mad enough at Sasha that she debated not reading it but decided that would be childish. Opening it she read what Sasha had to say.

"Are we not talking?"

Bayley found this message irritating. Sasha hadn't even bothered to acknowledge that she'd been rude to Bayley, much less apologize. She gave into her pique for a moment as she texted back: "yes."

Bayley surprised how quickly the reply came: "Can I at least ask why?"

"The fact that you aren't even aware is kind of a big part of the problem BOSS" Bayley texted back waspishly. There was a long pause now while Sasha composed and likely recomposed her reply.

"I'm sorry," was what she settled on.

"For?" Bayley prompted.

"For trying to respond to your problem with sex. I know that was a shitty thing for me to do". This response caught Bayley off guard. She'd been assuming Sasha was just apologizing because she thought it was what Baley wanted to hear. Instead, it seemed that Sasha actually understood.

"I really wanted to talk to my friend that night Sasha," Bayley responded.

"Call me whenever you need Bay, I promise you won't ever talk to the Boss again," came the reply. Bayley actually smiled softly at this.

"Can I call you later? I'm in Boston right now chasing a story," she sent back.

"Why are you in Boston?"

"I'll tell you later, talk soon?"

"OK, love you."

"Love you too," Bayley responded before putting her phone away. She stared out the window for the rest of the ride to her hotel. Upon arrival, she rushed into the building and after a very quick check in she hurried up to her room. The first thing she did upon arriving was to crank the heat as high as it would go. She sat hunched on the side of the bed over the heater rubbing her hands together.

When she was feeling less like an icicle she opened her roller bag and proceeded to put on most of the clothes she'd brought with. She looked ridiculous but she didn't care, she would not go back out into that icebox without more layers. This accomplished she pulled her laptop out and began some quick research. Of course, she'd checked on the address she'd been sent before leaving California. She knew she was going to the legendary Ric Flair's combat sports gym. But she still didn't know that much about it as a business, or the area it was in.

She read quickly through the gym's website, which was badly in need of updating, before moving on with her search. She found several articles about it though none were recent save for a short piece from the Boston Globe sports section dated two years before. It was about the death of Ric Flair's son, Reid. As Bayley read she learned that he'd apparently been quite the fighter himself. She also learned that he was survived not just by his father but by a sister, Ashley, who it seemed was helping run the gym at least as of the story's print date.

As a journalist, Bayley knew better than most that the further down your search results you went in research the less likely you were to find productive info. Still, she clicked on a few links further down and stumbled on a few local web forums. Many of the comments painted a picture of a once proud institution in decline. Several were very critical of Ashley Flair and her management style. In fact, it seemed the gym had lost several fighters it had previously signed over the last few years.

Bayley was beginning to wonder if she'd made a mistake coming to Boston. Was this some kind of desperate PR stunt? She wasn't sure her reputation could take another body blow so soon after her Enzo Amore fiasco, and chasing after a potential nothing burger would be just that. She debated internally for a long time before she decided that she'd already made the trip. It couldn't hurt just to go by the gym if nothing else she might get a picture with Ric Flair.

Priority number one, however, was to go buy herself a thicker coat. She did so, though she didn't remove her previous one either. So it was looking somewhat like the Michelin man that she finally got in a car and heading toward the gym.

The driver dropped her in a somewhat forlorn looking street. Though the sky was grey and overcast Bayley got the impression that the mood of this place was ALWAYS grey. The buildings were rundown brick and the concrete was cracked. She guessed that at one point the gym, and the area in general, had probably been quite nice. It struck her that its physical decay was a metaphor for its decline in prestige. Walking to the front door which had been stenciled with the words: Flair Combat Sports Academy Bayley saw that the windows on either side were plastered with sun faded fight posters.

"What is this place? A movie set?" Bayley muttered as she pulled on the door and stepped inside. Her sense of the place as looking like a caricature of an old-timey boxing gym was only deepened as she entered. Despite the modern equipment and TV's in evidence, the place just seemed...dated.

There were few people in evidence as Bayley looked around. Two men were hitting heavy bags, a blonde woman was coaching another woman in one of the two rings, but other than that the place was empty. In such a large space this particularly noticeable. The gym could easily have accommodated fifty to sixty people. No one approached Bayley as she entered so she was left to stand awkwardly for a few moments before she decided to walk around the perimeter of the gym.

If it wasn't for the fact that she recognized one of the rings from the video she'd been sent she have thought she was in the wrong place. She was also feeling somewhat ridiculous due to the amount of winter clothing she was wearing. Still, she kept walking, studying the walls as she went. Like the doorway, every inch of these were covered in old posters or photos. Most were of Ric Flair himself in his heyday, some seemed to be more recent though Bayley noted there didn't seem to be any of Flair's children. Bayley had been at this for almost ten minutes without anyone bothering to ask her what she wanted and she was just thinking of leaving when someone spoke up from behind her.

"Impressive isn't it?"

Charlotte

Charlotte had seen the brunette woman enter the gym and had immediately hurried to the bathroom to check her appearance. Presentation was everything to the Flair woman even if her gym was in disarray.

She eyed Bayley carefully, sizing the girl up before smirking. "I am so glad you could make it, you're Bayley right?" Charlotte asked though she knew damn well who Bayley was. She thought she'd give the girl a chance to introduce herself.

"Bayley Martinez, yes," Bayley answered, extending her hand toward the woman who could only be Charlotte Flair.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Martinez. , hmm that's cute." Charlotte was amused by it, before clearing her throat. "So I see you got the video I sent?" Charlotte had taken the video of Becky training. She intended to use it to her advantage because many people would pay for a scoop like that.

"Thanks?..." Bayley said a bit awkwardly. Not because of the comment on her site's name, she'd been hearing those jokes for years, but something about the other woman made her nervous. Charlotte Flair was a deal taller than Bayley and this combined with her whole bearing made Bayley feel slightly childish. To cover this lapse she cleared her throat and added: "yes I did, I'm grateful for the scoop but I feel I have to ask why you sent it to me? My reputation isn't at its peak at the moment."

She neglected to mention anything further on the subject, Flair had hinted at in her text. Besides, Bayley wasn't about to go whining about Mandy Rose to someone she barely knew. That was her problem and she would deal with it...eventually.

Charlotte watched her for a moment, thinking about how to properly answer Bayley. She knew what the politically correct answer was, but Charlotte wasn't in the mood to bullshit the reporter.

"Look around you Ms. Martinez, you can see for yourself that my establishment isn't at its pinnacle of success and neither is Ms. Lynch-"

"So Becky Lynch IS here?" Bayley blurted. She'd hadn't really been allowing herself to believe it fully until now.

Charlotte stared at Bayley for a moment, she loathed being interrupted. Becky interrupted her on the daily as well. "Yes, she is here Ms. Martinez. She is why I brought you here. There is something to be gained from working together. You get the scoop of a lifetime, a feel good, come back story that'll keep you on the map. Ms. Lynch gets a second chance and article that paint her in a better light, a more forgiving light." Charlotte wasn't sure she was convincing but she hoped that she was.

"As for me, what I get is people coming to my gym to see where Becky trains. I need the good media coverage just as much as Ms. Lynch does. We all need a second chance, don't we? To prove the doubters wrong?" Charlotte asked, watching Bayley closely, trying to see how the other woman would take her words. None of this would really work as effectively if Charlotte couldn't get the girl on board.

Bayley thought about this, it made sense but she was still hesitant. Perhaps her experience with Mandy Rose had affected her more deeply than she'd thought but she sensed there was something more at work here. Flair wasn't being entirely truthful with her or, at least, she wasn't revealing everything she thought or felt.

More to buy herself time than anything Bayley asked: "how would this work?"

Charlotte had prepared herself for that question. "You get sole access to interviews with Becky while she trains. In return you give good press, you highlight the good, make people want to come here." She explained.

Bayley had been concerned it might be something like this. She found herself on the horns of a personal dilemma. Everything about her screamed that she should not and would not write propaganda for any reason. It wasn't what good journalists did. On the other hand, her conscience was far from clear on this matter. Her entire relationship was Sasha was one gigantic ethical lapse. She mulled her options for a long time before, crossing her fingers inwardly, she did what she had to.

"I appreciate your tip and your consideration Ms. Flair but I'm afraid I can't promise I'll exclusively 'highlight the good' as you put it. I'll report what I see as I see it and do it in a fair and unbiased way. But if that means telling people things that aren't always complimentary to your gym then that's what I'd do. If that is a deal breaker I understand but I'm afraid I can't budge on this point," as she finished this speech she felt her insides tighten. She was certain that Flair would ask her to leave at any moment.

Charlotte gritted her teeth, the line in the sand was a sharp one. Trying to swallow her pride, she nodded. "Fine, report what you see. Just give Lynch a break, and don't tell her I said this, but take it easy on her. She's been through hell."

Charlotte wanted to point out she was probably only defending Becky because the girl worked for her. It wasn't like she actually cared or anything, wasn't like she had witnessed the former champion crying like a baby when Becky thought nobody was around.

"Report what you have to, just don't hurt her worse. The media screwed her over before." Charlotte didn't want to see Becky get hurt.

"I...can't promise I'll never offend her but I won't ever do anything personal," Bayley finally said, it was the best she could do.

Charlotte was about to reply when once more she was cut off, but this time by Becky. Becky had spotted Bayley, she knew her from TV.

"What. Is. She. Doing. Here.?" Becky snapped, fist balled at her sides.

Charlotte stepped between them, pressing a hand to Becky's shoulder, pushing her back. "She's here to help."

Becky ignored Charlotte. "Who from my old crew was your source," Becky demanded, looking Bayley dead in the eyes.

Dealing with Sasha all this time served Bayley in good stead now, if she hadn't had that practice she might have cowered before the angry woman in front of her. Instead, she kept her face impassive and looked Becky Lynch right in the eye before saying: "I can't tell you that Ms. Lynch I'm sorry."

Becky gave a humorless laugh, looking to Charlotte and back to Bayley. Anger radiated from the Irish woman, so much so that she was shaking. "You can't tell me or you won't? I lost everything, but I guess everybody can make a career out of detailing somebody's downward spiral."

The red-head was furious, she knew it wasn't Bayley's fault but she harbored a lot of resentment towards the media. There was more that Becky wanted to say, but she swallowed the words down.

"Go cooldown or something." Charlotte's tone was eerily calm. She was used to Becky's mood swings and lashing out by now.

Becky huffed in irritation, tempted to be a brat and cause chaos. But in the end, her good judgment won out and she walked away.

"You'll have to forgive her, she's a little more than rough around the edges," Charlotte muttered as she watched Becky leave.

Bayley shrugged "I've interviewed Brock Lesnar, trust me, I've dealt with worse". She paused then to consider Flair before adding "there's no point in my trying to talk to her now but...I get the sense there is more to this story than just Becky Lynch."

"You'd be surprised, but yeah there is more to her story. She fell hard from grace and she has a hard shell to crack, but deep down…" Charlotte trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. She wasn't sure how to describe Becky to the reporter. "Somewhere under all that brokenness is a person who just wants to belong somewhere."

Bayley nodded, this tallied with her estimation, but she then shook her head and said: "actually Ms. Flair, I was referring to you."

Charlotte arched a single brow. "What about me?"

Bayley put her professional mask on as she answered: "look at it from my point of view or from that of a reader. Becky Lynch resurfaces after basically falling off the face of the Earth. Not only that, but she's done so at the gym of the legendary Ric Flair, and seemingly with his daughter's active endorsement. There is just as much of a story here from YOUR angle, and your fathers, as there is from Becky's."

"My father is a sap for the broken, I don't know what he sees in her, but he sees something. Maybe she's as much of his shot at redemption as he is hers. All I know is if I am going to tell you what I think about her, I'm going to need a hell of a drink." Charlotte had been putting up with Becky for a few weeks now. The girl got on her nerves, but there was something about the brokenness that appealed to Charlotte's emotions.

"Sounds good, know a place?"

Bayley/Charlotte

"This is...something," Bayley said as she looked around the interior of the bar.

Charlotte gave a small laugh. "Yeah, my uncle is kind of a handful." Charlotte followed Bayley's gaze. The bar was very much a sports bar, famous people from Boston hung on the wall. A framed photo of Charlotte's father and the bar owner Arn Anderson hung on the wall.

"Uncle Arn opened this place when my dad finally refunded the twenty-thousand dollars Uncle Arn had given him. My dad paid it back with interest and Uncle Arn opened the Four Horsemen Sports Bar." Charlotte was proud of this place, she had spent summers during college bartending and working any shift she could to earn extra money. "Uncle Arn says that if these walls could talk, they'd tell quite the story."

"Arn Anderson? The boxer?" Bayley asked, interestedly. She primarily covered MMA as a result of the current cultural zeitgeist but she had an interest in combat sports in general.

Charlotte nodded her head. "Yeah, he and dad used to be real close back in the day. Still are, they consider each other like brothers."

"That's cool, my Papi used to love watching him," Bayley said with a smile as she fondly recalled watching the fights with her father on their small TV.

Charlotte considered Bayley for a moment, before leading the way to the corner seats of the bar. Thankfully it wasn't too busy for that time of day, and Charlotte secured them two seats. "You're close with your dad?"

"Yeah, he's my hero," Bayley said, meaning every word.

Charlotte knew that feeling well. "My dad is mine as well, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him." She wanted to keep her dad's legacy strong.

Bayley nodded as she dug a small recorder out of her bag and set it on the table before raising an eyebrow at Charlotte and asking: "so, do you mind if we're on the record?"

Charlotte eyed the recorder, part of her wanted to be defensive and say that she hadn't really brought Bayley there for an interview. However, she knew that she had to give a little. "Alright, we can be on the record."

"Thank you," Bayley said with a smile before she settled into her chair and asked: "soooo do I go to the bar? Or what? How do I get a drink?"

Chuckling, the gym owner turned her attention to the barkeep of the night. "Hey Roman, can me and my friend get some drinks." She called, already knowing that because of who she was, her money was no good there. If she tried to pay, Arn would just find a way to refund her money. Turning her full attention back to Bayley she gave a small smile. "Get whatever you want, on me."

Bayley considered and then said: "something single malt, over fifteen years, and with a drop of water please."

Roman eyed Bayley curiously, side-eying her before he got both her and Charlotte some drinks. "It's not often you bring new blood around here Charlie. Who is this?" Roman asked, nodding to Bayley.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the nickname. "She's just a friend Roman, it's not like that. More of a business acquaintance actually." She wasn't sure Bayley deserved the title of friend. "We'll see if she can become a friend depending on how the night goes." There was no malice in Charlotte's voice though, she was open to building a working relationship with Bayley.

Feeling the mounting awkwardness Bayley half stood and offered her hand to the bartender saying: "Bayley Martinez, I'm a reporter."

Roman shook her hand, sizing her up, he apparently was okay with what he saw because he gave a small smile. "Charlotte never could avoid the troublemakers. Don't write anything to damning about my girl." He then walked back down to the other side of the bar, leaving them to their conversation.

Charlotte took a sip of her beer and then pivoted her body towards Bayley. "So what are the burnings questions you have Bayley?"

Bayley matched the gesture and sipped her own drink, letting the amber liquid burn pleasantly for a while. When she opened her eyes again she looked Charlotte Flair directly in her eyes and asked: "main question: why now? Why Becky Lynch?"

"Wasn't my decision if we're being honest. My dad sees something in her, I didn't want to touch her. She has a reputation for being reckless and arrogant." Charlotte let out a heavy sigh as she thought about just how crazy her dad's plan was. However she knew that her dad believed in Becky and in a weird way, Charlotte was warming up to the Irish Lass Kicker.

"My dad doesn't give up, he sees something in her, that reminds him of himself...reminds him of Reid." Charlotte flinched as she thought of her brother. It wasn't like he was ever truly far from her mind, but she could see why her dad was so desperate to save Becky Lynch. "He couldn't save my brother, so he's hell-bent on saving Becky Lynch. It's a redemption for both of them."

"Did Becky reach out to you? Or did you find her?"

"Honestly I don't know. All I do know is that she showed up at our gym, apparently, my dad knew she was coming and I didn't." Charlotte shrugged, her dad was always a wildcard in her opinion, always throwing her curveballs.

"So do you and your dad usually not communicate on this stuff? I mean does he spring things on you a lot?" Bayley asked.

Charlotte nodded quickly. "Don't get me wrong I love him, but ask his four ex-wives, he is not the best at communicating. He'd rather ask for forgiveness than ask permission. You know anybody like that?" Charlotte asked, turning the questions back on Bayley.

Bayley actually chuckled softly at this as she said: "Oh I do". She then reasserted control of the interview by asking: "what kind of shape is Lynch in?"

That was a much harder question to answer, and Charlotte was silent for a moment. "She's broken and she's low, but the only way up from here is back to the top. I have every confidence in Rebecca that she will find her way back to the top of the mountain."

"Let's talk about the future for a second. Assuming that Lynch can get back on her feet and into fighting shape, are you and your father taking over her management?"

Charlotte hadn't actually talked with Becky about this, but she assumed so. "Lynch will get back on her feet. She has the Nature Boy Ric Flair in her corner. There is no if, it's only when. I will make damn sure to help her out. I'll be her manager if I have too, her former managers gave her too much leash and she hung herself on it. I won't make that same mistake. I'll keep her reined in."

Charlotte already knew Becky was going to take issue with that, but if they were going to have people buying in, then they needed to know Becky wasn't going to be a heat-seeking missile of chaos.

"What kind of timetable is Becky on for getting back in the cage? Do you and your father have anyone in mind for her next opponent?"

"I have no idea, I am hoping to focus first on getting her back into fighting shape. We need to be careful and ease her slowly back into it. She sure as hell ain't taking on the Boss or Ronda Rousey her first fight back." Charlotte knew that Becky needed to build momentum first.

Bayley had to work to keep from smiling when she thought about how Sasha would react to learning that Becky was training again and even more at how she'd react if Becky challenged her. Resuming her professional guise she asked: "and have you and Lynch spoken about her rough patch after the Banks fight?"

"No, not really. It's not like she's wanting to relive the downward spiral." Charlotte didn't blame her. The media had gone after Reid and drove him to his breaking point. She could sympathize with Becky.

"OK, just a few more. What conditions did you and your father put on your offer to her?"

"She has to stay clean, no drugs and no alcohol. She trains at the gym, gets to live there and in return, she has to teach two classes a week." Charlotte felt like the terms were more than fair in her opinion.

"Generous of you two, what sort of relationship do you have with Becky Lynch?"

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked, arching a brow, her hackles starting to rise. She didn't know what Bayley meant by that question, and so she naturally felt defensive.

Bayley raised her eyebrows at Charlotte as she said" "come on Ms. Flair, I saw the way you two were interacting. Seemed like punches or hugs were seconds away."

"She reminds me of my brother. Perhaps that's what you saw." Charlotte said not wanting to elaborate any further.

Sensing she was close to a breakthrough with Charlotte, Bayley reached slowly out toward her recorder and switched it off. She was hoping to build a relationship with this woman and she guessed now was a time where she could make some headway. "I know a thing or two about how difficult fighters can be to deal with."

Charlotte watched her switch off the recorder, she eyed her curiously unsure if she could trust her. Finally, she relented and gave in. "She is hot as hell, but she's also so annoying and arrogant. She thinks with her fist and her mouth, and not always with her head or her heart." Charlotte had seen Becky break down enough, she felt drawn to her not that she'd ever admit it.

It was then that Bayley decided to do something reckless. Something that could, ultimately, end her journalistic career. Or at least damage it severely. But she had a sense that she could trust Charlotte, or at least that she was a kindred spirit. She sipped her drink once but didn't look up as she asked: "are we WAY off the record now? That applies to you as much as me."

"I won't tell anybody what you say," Charlotte promised looking her dead in the eyes. "Flair's honor."

Bayley smiled at that last but still didn't look up as she swirled her drink. She hesitated for a few seconds but eventually asked: "I assume you're familiar with who 'the Boss' is?"

Charlotte's eyes widened. "You and Banks?" She wasn't sure if she should be impressed or slightly horrified. It was quite the conflict of interest. "Not to be rude or anything, but are you sure you want to be reporting about Becky. Lynch and Banks don't really like each other at all."

Bayley reflexively thought about denying everything but Charlotte had hit the proverbial nail right on the head. Sighing, Bayley tossed off her drink and motioned for another before she looked at Charlotte again. "I met Sasha years ago before she even went pro actually. We've been...something since then. But recently I've been dealing with 'the Boss' more than Sasha Banks. Which is why I know what it's like to deal with a temperamental fighter."

Charlotte just nodded her head. "Well temperamental fighters have those moments of attractiveness I suppose. But they sure do drive a girl to drink." Charlotte said, without any real hint of judgment. She just picked up her beer and downed it, feeling like perhaps she had misjudged the reporter. Perhaps they weren't too different after all.

"I suppose we just have to hope that eventually, their 'pain in the ass' moments are fewer than those special ones…" Bayley said before cocking her head to one side and asking: "so...are you and Lynch...umm…".

"No, no we are not. We can barely stand each other, I don't care how hot she is, she's a real asshole sometimes. It's probably for the best that I try to keep that relationship professional." Charlotte didn't want to allow herself to fall for somebody who was likely to cheat on her. She knew Becky's reputation.

Bayley had been about to accept a second drink that arrived without her having to ask when Charlotte said this. Fortunately, she hadn't accepted the glass yet because she started to laugh so hard that she actually doubled over. These were honest and full belly laughs that left her gasping for air as they went on and on.

"Why are you laughing at me?" Charlotte asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry…" Bayley said as she wiped at her eyes "...it's just. I told myself literally those exact same things before I got involved with Sasha."

Charlotte fiddled with the napkin in front of her. "Yeah well, Lynch doesn't want me and I'm better off just trying to not look her way."

Bayley just nodded, it wasn't her place to press anyway.

"Anyways drink up Ms. Martinez, being around Lynch would be enough to drive any poor soul to drink. She's a handful." Charlotte admitted, downing the rest of her drink. She signaled for Roman to bring them another round.

Bayley lifted her glass to Charlotte and toasted: "here to the fighters, keeping our lives interesting and us employed". They clinked glasses and both took long pulls. Bayley spent the next few hours at the bar with Charlotte talking about the industry, swapping stories, and learning what she could.

As she'd suspected she found that Charlotte was a kindred spirit. She'd been genuinely touched when Charlotte had opened up about her brother's death to her. Though they were still very different people, and they had just met, Bayley sensed that Charlotte could be a friend. She'd then amused herself by wondering what Sasha might think of the blonde woman.

On a more practical level, Bayley realized at some point during the evening that she did still need to be functional. So she switched to soda about halfway through so her head was clearer when she left the bar. The street was crowded with early bar-goers and people leaving work, trying to get a ride share to the front of the bar would have been a time-consuming process. Realizing this she decided to walk to a more thinly people stretch of pavement.

As she walked she thought what she might talk about with Sasha when they talked later. She decided it was probably too early to be too specific about why she was in Boston. Flair had been right, Sasha would be amused if she found out she was there for a story on Becky Lynch. She was still thinking about this as she got in her ride and headed back to her hotel. She had some major writing to do.

Sasha

Sasha was used to competing in front of large crowds in what amounted to underwear. Years of doing so had essentially immunized her against being self-conscious. So it was not much of an adjustment for her to be walking around in a robe in front of strangers. Being nude in front of them had been.

Sasha was, justly she felt, very proud of her body. She worked very hard to stay in fighting trim and felt she was entitled to a little vanity. This was precisely why she'd agreed to do the ESPN Magazine Body issue. Well, that and the fact that Teddy Long, her manager, had thought it would be a great way for her to raise her public profile. A goal that was almost as important to her as her fighting these days.

Sasha was in talks to appear on a sitcom and even on SNL in the coming weeks. If those went well she was hoping to parlay them into possibly getting into a movie. If THAT worked out then who knew what the limit would be? She'd probably work with a writer to release an autobiography, maybe open a side business, who could say? All Sasha knew was that 'the Boss' saw the world as her oyster and she determined to seize it.

Not everyone was as enthused about this plan, however. Most notably her trainer Bobby Lashley and, of course, Bayley. Lashley's concern was obvious, all the time Sasha spent dealing with her side gigs meant less time training. Sasha could understand his point of view even if she thought Lashley was nagging. Sasha was as familiar with the rest of the bantamweight division as anyone and she knew there wasn't a serious challenger left.

Which was part of the reason why she was still here. As she'd been leaving she'd noticed the name 'Paige Bevis' on a posted schedule for the day's shoots. Sasha knew that Bevis was a rising star in the flyweight division whom many thought would have gold around her waist in no time. Maybe so, but Sasha had another use for her first.

Paige was getting famous not only for her fighting but her brash attitude in and out of the cage. In many ways, she was a lot like Sasha. In her private moments, Sasha could admit that this was part of the reason why she didn't like the British woman, she liked to think of herself as unique and the idea someone was doing what she did bothered her. But the Boss would remedy this.

Sasha walked through the halls of the studio that the shoots were being held at. She'd finished up her part should have been leaving but she had other plans. Plans she hadn't shared with anyone simply because she knew that they'd disapprove. Stopping ber her dressing room to grab her custom sunglasses and rings she then asked where Paige's dressing room was and set off.

As luck would have it she spotted Paige and her entourage lounging around waiting for their shoot. Paige was sitting in a chair looking at her phone, wearing a rob of the same type as Sasha. She had a small knot of women with her thought none seemed to be paying much attention. This suited Sasha just fine as she waited for her moment.

It finally came when a production assistant approached Paige and told her that she'd be up in a few minutes. Sasha took her cue and strode brashly up the assistant, hip checking Paige out of the way she did.

"Hey, uh we need to redo my shoot those photos aren't nearly boss enough," she said in her most arrogant tone of voice.

"Uh, excuse me," Paige said indignantly but Sasha cut her off. Without even looking at Paige she simply raised a finger in a quieting gesture.

"Adults are talking little girl, shh!" she said dismissively without looking away from the started assistant.

"Umm, Ms. Banks I-" the poor woman said before she was interrupted by Paige.

"What did you say to me?" she asked Sasha angrily. Sasha still didn't look at the other woman but simply turned her head to speak over her shoulder.

"I didn't say anything TO you, I spoke NEAR you, I don't talk to nobodies," she said.

"Yo who the fuck do you think you are bitch?" Paige said putting a hand on Sasha's shoulder and trying to spin her around. This was the opening Sasha had been hoping for, she allowed Paige to turn her but then rotated quickly to shove the other woman with a palm her chest. Paige went stumbling backward and would have fallen if her entourage hadn't caught her.

"Don't touch the boss unless you want to get burned bitch," Sasha sneered.

"Oh, I'll do more than touch you! How does a black eye sound?" Paige snarled, getting right in Sasha's face. Sasha gave a dismissive snort.

"Sweetie, you're not in my league," she said in a mocking tone.

"You're right, I'm better!" Paige shot back. Sasha didn't respond right away, instead, she just lifted her hands so Paige could read the rings on her fingers that read 'Legit Boss'. She held the diamond-encrusted words in Paige's face for a moment before she spoke.

"You know what these mean?" she asked coolly.

"That you're tacky as fuck?" Paige snapped. Sasha just shook her head sadly at this, as though Paige had let her down with this answer.

"It's mean's I'm better than you and always will be, just enjoy the view from below," Sasha said sweetly.

"Fuck you! Any time any place I'll I'll shove those damned rings up your ass!" Paige shouted.

"You can't handle me, sweetie, you'd have come up to a real woman's division," Sasha taunted.

"That sounds like you're scared to me," Paige challenged.

"Just keep trying to be me, it's as good as you'll ever be," Sasha answered, still speaking in cloyingly sweet tones.

"Sounds like you're the one who's scared ya cunt!" Paige growled. This had been exactly the provocation Sasha had been hoping for. She gave Paige an appraising look through narrowed eyes for a few moments. Then, without warning, she spat in the British woman's face.

Sure and clockwork she saw Paige's fist coming toward her. The other woman was fast, sure, but not nearly fast enough. Sasha simply swayed back out of the way of the punch and then drove her own fist firmly into Paige's face. The other woman staggered but before anyone could do anything else Sasha felt many restraining hands pulling her backward and away from Paige. Perfect, she thought.

"You got anything else to say, bitch?" Sasha shouted as she made a show of fighting against the crowd of studio staff that was trying to pull her backward.

"You get your ass back here!" Paige roared angrily as she too was pulled backward. The British woman was clearly furious and was trying with all her might to get at Sasha.

"What you want to get embarrassed again?" Sasha called back as she continued her show of struggling to get back at Paige. Paige, however, was so apoplectic that her response wasn't readily understandable though everyone got the gist. When she'd allowed herself to be pulled all the way back to the door leading out of room Sasha shouted: you name the place and weight class and I'll kick your ass!"

About an hour later Sasha was sitting in the back of a limo heading to her home in LA. She was sitting next to Teddy and across from Bobby as her manager watched the whole incident on a tablet. One of the studio workers had captured the whole thing on their phone and of course, it had hit the internet and set it on fire.

"That was stupid playa," Teddy said ruefully as he watched.

"It was fucking brilliant, now I get to take down the biggest name in MMA that isn't me. I'm sure she'll pick someplace in the UK so I'll get to embarrass her at home too!" Sasha said with a smirk.

"It was still fucking stupid," Lashley put in.

"You know, fuck you two sometimes, you love 'the Boss' when she's making you rich but you don't like what she has to do to keep the spotlight," Sasha said sulkily as she folded her arms.

"I have NEVER liked 'the Boss'" Lashley pointed out. Before an argument could develop Long stepped in.

"So what do you want me to do playa?" he asked Sasha.

"Get in touch with Paige's people and make this happen, there isn't anyone serious left for me in the bantamweight division so I can do this and then get back to whenever someone decides they want their ass kicked when they challenge for my gold," Sasha said. Long nodded and Sasha sat back with a self-satisfied smile as she lowered her sunglasses.

She was thinking about the party she about to throw. She completely forgot that she was supposed to talk to Bayley that night.

Becky

-The next day-

The blaring of Becky's alarm clock woke her up, a frown pulling at her lips. She was sore and not in a good way. Becky always liked being sore from a good work out, or from tiring herself out with a marathon sex session. No, she found herself sore because her workout the previous day hadn't been good. She kept reflecting on her call with Finn, and how after all she wanted to do was punch stuff. Her body was paying the price for her impulsive decision every muscle felt sore and tight.

It took Becky a few tries before she finally managed to get her alarm to shut up. The Irish woman was tired but rolled out of bed and onto her feet. There were certain mornings where her knee was stiffer than others and today her knee was screaming at her. Limping towards her kitchen, she made herself some coffee.

She could hear faint music coming from the gym and wanted to ignore it. Becky was in no mood to be chipper, but slowly made her way to investigate the sound. What she found surprised her, but she knew it shouldn't have.

Charlotte was near the entrance painting one of the walls, an ugly shade of white. She apparently hadn't noticed that she wasn't alone, because she was still painting and ignoring Becky.

"What are you doing?" Becky called out to her.

Charlotte jumped slightly and then glanced over her shoulder. "I'm painting." She said, eager to not have to deal with the former fighter.

Charlotte was just happy because Bob Orton's check had cleared and now she had money to fix up the gym. Charlotte was in a good mood, she had come into work early to pay off some of the debt that the gym was in. Now she was painting and trying to make the gym look more like it had in its heyday.

Becky limped down the stairs and stared at the spot that Charlotte was painting. "You missed a patch." She said smugly, pointing to a spot that Charlotte had in fact missed.

Charlotte growled in the back of her throat, her grip tightening on her paintbrush until her knuckles turned as white as the paint. "You could help you know."

Becky rolled her eyes but found herself picking up a paint roller to help Charlotte. Becky wasn't even sure why she was doing it, she was sore and there were other things she could be doing, like eating or sleeping.

The duo worked in silence for a few minutes, neither of them really wanted to talk to the other. Charlotte was fine with the silence except that she noticed Becky grimacing with every stroke.

"What's wrong with you?" Charlotte finally demanded, unable to help herself. If Becky got hurt, that would wreck Charlotte's plans, and the blonde was not in the mood to have her plans ruined.

"Excuse me?" Becky asked, her eyes darkening. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you blondie."

Charlotte arched a brow and tilted her head. "I was talking about the fact that you keep wincing, are you always this touchy in the mornings?"

Becky grumbled a few choice words under her breath before she turned to face Charlotte. "I'm a little sore from working out."

"I saw you working out, maybe don't push yourself too much," Charlotte suggested, she knew it was selfish but she needed Becky to be healthy. "I can see if one of our other trainers can give you a back massage."

Becky was very confused by the fact that it seemed like Charlotte actually cared. "Who are you and what have you done with the bitchy blonde who hates me?"

Charlotte scowled at her flicked some of the paint at Becky. "Stop being an asshole, do you want help or not?"

The idea of a nice massage had Becky willing to let Charlotte win this little war of words. "Alright, I suppose if one of the other trainers could help then I wouldn't be opposed."

Charlotte did her best not to roll her eyes but set her paintbrush down. "Keep painting and I'll go see if I can find Liv."

Becky nodded slowly. "Yeah okay, I guess I'll be here." She mumbled, going back to painting. It was only after Charlotte left that she realized she had been conned out of her morning off. Now she was stuck painting until Charlotte decided to come back with somebody named Liv that Becky had yet to meet.

"Son of a bitch." Becky huffed, but unlike the old Becky, she just kept painting. It was better than moping in the apartment about Finn.

Thankfully Charlotte did return a few minutes later with a younger blonde and a woman with black hair and red streaks through it.

"This is Liv, she's a trainer here too but she's also good at athletic massages," Charlotte explained nodding to the other blonde.

Becky gave a flirtatious smile at Liv. "Hello there gorgeous, you good with your hands then?"

Charlotte paled as the other woman stepped in front of Liv and shoved Becky hard. "Don't talk to my girlfriend that way." The woman snapped, harshly.

"Becky could you not hit on your co-workers, that'd be great. This is Ruby Riott, one of the other trainers here." Charlotte wasn't sure she could pull Ruby off of Becky if the girl attacked but Ruby seemed satisfied that Becky had gotten the hint about Liv.

Liv simply giggled as if she was amused by the chaos. "It's okay Rue-Rue, I'll fix fire crotch over here up and we can get her ready for training."

"Training, what's going on?" Becky felt confused, she didn't know what was happening.

Charlotte had wanted to break the news to Becky more carefully but since the cat was already out of the bag she decided to go for it. "Ruby is going to train you and help you get back into ring shape, akin to what your former trainer… Dave Finlay did?"

Becky's expression darkened considerably and she very much wanted to punch Charlotte right in her perfect little face. "Nobody is comparable to Dave Finlay, I doubt she'd even be worthy enough to tape his hands."

Charlotte met her expression dead on, regarding Becky much like a teacher regarding an unruly child. "Be that as it may, she's going to train you. Now show her some respect and play nice." Charlotte's words were condescending, everybody knew that.

For a minute it looked like Becky and Charlotte were going to come to blows, but then at the last moment, Becky seemed to deflate in on herself.

"Fine," Becky said, feeling every bit the defeated person she was.

Becky

More than winning, Becky despised losing. With her loss to Sasha, she had lost three professional fights. Losing to somebody who was not a professional was just downright humiliating as she was quickly finding out.

Charlotte hadn't been joking when she had talked about finding somebody to whip Becky back into shape. Ruby Riott was doing just as instructed to by Charlotte, she was putting Becky through the wringer.

If physical therapy had been rough, boot camp Riott style was even harder. It had been the longest week of Becky's life. To Becky it felt like Ruby was going out of her way to stretch her longer, to make her work for every hold.

They were currently going through some light kickboxing exercises, focusing on that style of workout for the day. Becky was already drenched in sweat and they were only twenty minutes in. Her knee was aching already but Ruby wasn't the type to give you a break unless she thought one was earned.

It was at that moment that Charlotte happened to make her appearance. Her dad was away on business and had asked that she check in on Becky's training.

Careful eyes studies Becky's stance and with a sigh, Charlotte climbed up onto the side of the boxing ring. She leaned on the ropes, before scoffing. "You're letting your guard down Lynch."

"What do you know?" Becky muttered, slightly out of breath. She was trying to focus on Ruby, as the girl advanced on her. She swung with her right hand, but Ruby easily ducked and tagged Becky's ribs with a quick one-two, before scooting out of the way of the Irish Lass Kicker.

Becky tried to ignore the way that Charlotte was staring at her, she didn't need the blonde to tell her an 'I-told-you-so'.

Charlotte climbed the rest of the way into the boxing ring. "My dad is a boxing legend, I can help you." She offered, knowing damn well that Becky was going to be stubborn and pretend that she didn't need it.

"I'm a black belt in judo, karate, and my silver gloves in savate. I think I can handle some boxing." Becky said dismissively. Truth be told, the more she watched Ruby, the more she was jealous that the girl didn't seem to limp when she walked.

Becky was getting agitated mostly at herself, she wanted her knee to be at a hundred percent but she wasn't sure it was ever going to be like it was. However, Charlotte had been bossing her around lately and Becky was ready to make her shut up.

"You may have a lot of skills Rebecca, but I can still teach you a thing or two," Charlotte said, her tone eerily calm. Charlotte was used to people underestimating her, and she knew that was exactly what Becky was doing.

"Even on my worst days, I'm still better than you on your best," Becky warned, feeling just a little bit cocky. She didn't know if her knee would hold up, but she was out to prove to the blonde that she wasn't somebody to fuck with. "Let's go."

Ruby looked unsure but climbed out of the ring to let them go at it. Becky and Charlotte had some weird energy between them, and if this was the way to solve it then so be it.

Charlotte quickly taped up her hands and put on some gloves. She figured she'd let Becky come to her, let the former MMA fighter tire herself out.

"You're not even in fighting clothes," Becky muttered, nodding to Charlotte's button-up and dress pants.

Charlotte shrugged. "It should be no problem for you to kick my ass then, should it?"

Becky's eyes darkened and she charged forward, letting her temper get the best of her. She swung, landing a few shots against Charlotte's stomach and sides.

Charlotte wasn't too surprised by the onslaught, she knew she had provoked Becky. What caught her off guard was how it seemed that even though it was a frenzied attack, Becky seemed to still be holding back.

Waiting for what she knew was coming, the second Becky dropped her guard, Charlotte nailed her with a hard cross, that knocked the former champion to the ground.

Becky clearly hadn't expected the haymaker, because one second she was raining down lefts and rights on Charlotte, and the next she was flat on her ass.

"What the fuck was that?" Becky snapped, irritation written plainly over her features.

Charlotte was shaking out her hand. "I told you not to drop your guard. Maybe next time you'll listen to me." She flexed her hand before extending it to Becky to try and help her up.

Becky knocked Charlotte hand away and rolled out of the ring. She was furious that she had been shown up. She took off her gloves, trying to rein in her temper. Becky knew she was out of practice and even if she wasn't, boxing wasn't one of her talents.

"Look, you fell from grace Lynch, but that doesn't mean you can't find your way back up to the top of the mountain. You need to be willing to let people help." Charlotte warned, before nodding to Becky's knee. "Have you been doing your strengthening exercises?"

Becky couldn't look her in the eyes but shook her head. "Sometimes, it just hurts a lot."

Charlotte sighed to herself. "You're done for today Becky, go ice your knee or something." Charlotte knew that Becky needed a break, she had been getting progress reports from Liv and Ruby.

"I think I'm going to go downtown, I need a drink," Becky said, intentionally being testy. She was trying to get a rise out of Charlotte.

It didn't seem like Charlotte was going to give her one though. Aside from the briefest flash of irritation, Charlotte managed to hide her emotions.

"If that is what you wish to do Rebecca than so be it, but I will advise you to use what brain cells you still have and reconsider. Drinking and bad decision is what got you here in the first place" Charlotte said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Oh my god, how condescending can you be? So you got a lucky punch in on an already defeated person, have a fucking cookie." Becky wanted nothing more than to punch Charlotte's lights out, but she knew at most she'd get one punch in before Ruby and Liv would be all over her. Besides laying hands on the boss would cost her, her job and her shot at redemption.

Becky bumped shoulders with Charlotte and walked out, grabbing only her leather jacket on the way out. If her knee was throbbing before, by the time she had walked a couple blocks to the downtown scene, her knee was on fire. She could see a bar up ahead, all she wanted to do was go inside and get warm. Hell, even a few beers sounded better.

Stuffing her hands into her jacket to try and get warm, Becky's fingers brushed over something cold and plastic. She pulled the thing out and found herself holding her 4-month sobriety chip. She was getting nearer to five months now, and the thought was enough to give her pause. Did she really want to let somebody like Charlotte Flair drive her to drink again?

Pushing those thoughts away, Becky ran her fingers over the chip. She was having a mental war with herself. Part of her didn't want to feel and the other part just wanted to be able to drink and feel something other than apathy and pain. Becky slipped the chip back in her pocket, not wanting to feel guilty.

Slowly Becky's hand reached for the door handle to the bar before she hesitated when someone spoke up behind her.

"Maybe I shouldn't be saying this...but...think about it."