Perseverance

by Bob the Taco Thief

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

7. Chapter 10

Bayley

"Alright welcome back we're here on the cast with the one and only Bayley Martinez from . Bayley, thanks for coming on the show," Mojo Rawley said from the across the table in his studio.

"Hey, Mo," Bayley said. Mo's energy was usually pretty infectious. Bayley wasn't immune today but she was still subdued. She'd heard the news about Ric Flair just the morning after the fight and her heart had absolutely broken for Charlotte.

Though at times it seemed as though the blonde was trying to make Bayley hate her, it hadn't quite worked. Bayley had been volcanically angry when she'd left the hotel bar after she'd last seen Charlotte. The other woman had been cruel that evening, there was no other word for it. Bayley had been quite ready to simply never speak to Charlotte again.

But then she'd heard the news.

Puzzle pieces had begun to clunk into place in Bayley's mind. The strange conversation that she'd had with Ric shortly before she'd left Boston. She remembered thinking it was odd that he'd wanted to have the conversation in Spanish but even more that it had felt like he'd just said good-bye.

Then there was the fact that both Charlotte and Becky had told her repeatedly how busy Charlotte had been away from the business of Becky's fighting. At first, Bayley had been inclined to think that this had been Charlotte dealing with whatever her financial arrangement with Bob Orton had been. Bayley had never followed up on the lead but she'd wondered if it was something bigger than she'd realized.

And then there was Charlotte's inexplicably hurtful behavior at the bar. She'd been a bitch and a half for sure, but in hindsight, it would make sense if she'd been dealing with the twin stresses of work and a terminal father. It didn't excuse her behavior, but it put it in a context that Bayley could understand.

Forgiveness? That would have to wait until she had more time on her hands.

She'd agreed to be on Mo's podcast before the fights and she didn't want to cancel on him two times in a row. So today might involve a certain amount of 'fake it till you make it' psychology. At least, she thought, the news cycle had been bountiful for them.

"So let's jump right back in here…" Mo said, "...we're gonna play some of the audio from Shane McMahon's press conference earlier today and then get a reaction from you OK?"

"Sound's good," Bayley said. Mo hit a button and a few moments later the audio began to play.

" We here at Brawl for All demand a certain professional standard from all our personnel, whether they be fighters or support staff. Through her conduct after her match Natalya Neidhart, Sasha Banks has demonstrated that she obviously does not meet this standard. I have been in touch with the Bank's camp today and I informed them that Sasha Banks will be suspended for half a year from all Brawl For All activities. It is our hope that Ms. Banks takes this time to reflect on how she can be a better ambassador for our sport."

Mo ended the audio and jumped in here: "So, that's the money quote. Bayley, you were close with Sasha Banks once what's your reaction here? We've had a lot of people coming out of the woodwork talking about how this is really nothing more than a slap on the wrist for Banks seeing as to how she'd probably have about six month's downtime before she could even consider taking another fight anyway"

Bayley took a moment to gather herself before she said: "Mo, I think that a lot of people are overthinking this issue. BFA isn't acting any different here than any other league here. Remember how many games Ray Rice got initially? ONE. And that's all he would have got if there hadn't been an enormous outcry about it. Professional sports do NOT care about good conduct. They care about making money. This isn't unique to our sport either. I just think anyone who was expecting BFA to swoop in and do the right thing was setting themselves up to be disappointed."

"I get that, but let me ask then. What do you think about what Bank's actually did, and what do you think would be an appropriate punishment?" Mo asked.

Bayley ignored the answers that sprung to her lips right away and instead said: "Well I don't think there is an appropriate reaction to it other than disgust. I was disgusted and shocked that a woman I thought I knew once did that. As for a reasonable punishment? I'd have stripped her title on the spot and given her a year-long ban at minimum."

"Wow! Martinez coming in hot! Obviously, they aren't calling you for advice though huh?" Mo asked with a grin that Bayley did her best to return.

"No, I wish. But I think we all know WHY BFA did this too right?"

"Tell us."

"Well, we saw Becky Lynch score what was probably her biggest symbolic victory ever over Nikki Cross. Far more than with the Torres fight, this was Lynch announcing herself to the division and saying 'the line forms behind me for a title shot'. This suspension will end just in time for the fight I think we'd all hoped for but thought we'd never see: Banks v Lynch part two."

"Ohhhh you're so right! After Lynch had all her problems I never thought I'd see it. But in just months this could be happening!" Mo said excitedly.

"I'm not reporting anything I'm just reading the writing on the wall...the enormous glowing writing on the wall," Bayley said with a ghost of her usual smile.

"We'll have to wait and see! But I'd give you great odds that you're onto something Martinez," Mo told her jokingly.

"How great? I might take and just hope I'm wrong," Bayley laughed.

"We'll talk about it off air…" Mo chuckled "...Since I have you hear Bayley I gotta ask THOSE questions now."

"Really Mo? Aren't you sick of hearing the same answers I always give?"

"I know, I know, BUT the new video and everything I wanted to give you a chance to respond to the...ah...less than ideal Lynch interview with Mandy Rose," Mo told her.

"And give me a chance to respond for the first time on YOUR podcast huh?" Bayley asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's a win-win!" Mo said eagerly.

Bayley sighed, but good-naturedly. She knew how the game was played. Mo wouldn't have been doing his job if he hadn't asked this question. It would also be disingenuous for her to pretend like she hadn't anticipated it.

"I'll give you a money quote right here OK Mo?" Bayley said.

"Yes please!"

"In reference to the video that Mandy released, I will first say, to whoever shot it, that's just weird. Who hangs around hotel hallways? But now, the important part. I, Bayley Martinez, was not at the time of the video and have not ever been romantically involved with Becky Lynch. I was there covering her as part of an arrangement with Charlotte Flair. Over that time I reported as accurately and objectively as possible. I believe that is evident in my work. While I was there I spent a great deal of time in close contact with Becky Lynch, a friendship did develop. I would defy anyone to be in my position and NOT have that happen. But this relationship was always platonic…did I miss anything Mo?" Bayley asked as she finished.

"Nope, that was very thorough,"

Bayley sighed again and said: "But we both know I'm going to get questions about it for years still."

"You bet."

"Hooray…" Bayley said resignedly. Their, interview continued for about ten more minutes before Mo began to wind it down.

"I hate to end on a sad note but I really want you take on this one Bayley," he said, sounding as somber as Bayley had ever heard him.

"I think I know what's coming here," Bayley said, forcing a weak smile.

"We lost a legend recently. Boxing great Ric Flair, whose gym you spent time at, passed away in a Boston hospital. I know you're a boxing fan as well as MMA and that you're also close to his daughter Charlotte Flair. Could you give us a reaction Bayley?" Mo asked sincerely.

Bayley swallowed. Mo would obviously have no way of knowing that Bayley and Charlotte had had a falling out recently. Nevertheless, Bayley wasn't so sure she was close with Charlotte. But she did her best to answer: "Obviously it's always a tragedy when anyone dies, but I really feel like we lost a good one here. I remember growing up and watching some of Ric Flair's fights with my dad. And when I was out there I got to know him a little bit, and I always liked him. Obviously, he doesn't have the most squeaky clean of legacies but I think the world is gonna miss him."

Here she hesitated as she tried to think of the best way to express her next thought. She knew it was unlikely to matter but there was a small chance it could get back to the intended recipient. So she had to do handle it perfectly.

"And…" she added slowly "...I'd just like to say to Charlotte Flair that...whatever else is going on you have my deepest sympathies and I'm thinking of you."

Sasha

Zelina Vega shrieked in impudent frustration as Sasha pushed past her into their shared closet. The room was as large as some one bedroom apartments but Sasha was still feeling crowded by the other woman.

"You are SO SELFISH!" Zelina screamed as she actually stomped her foot in rage.

"Oh yeah...I'M the selfish one!" Sasha shot back as she grabbed one of her suitcases and tossed it onto onto one of the room's benches.

"I WANTED that award! It was MY award!" Zelina snapped. Shew as referring to an LGBTQ Athlete of the Year award that Sasha had been set to receive until recently. When the combined news of Sasha's lawsuit, her failed drug test, AND the news she would be suspended for 6 months due to her actions at the end of her fight against Natalya Neidhart had hit many things had started to go wrong. Losing the award was among the least of her concerns.

She'd lost almost half her major sponsors and several more were wavering. This amounted to a LOT of annual money that she would longer be getting. This was in addition to the likelihood that she would have to cut an enormous check to those idiots in Right to Censor as part of a settlement. The loser purse of her fight with Neidhart suddenly wasn't looking like much of a consolation prize.

"Yeah 'your' award huh? Remind me how I'm the selfish one again? Gee I fucking wonder why they didn't offer the award to you?" Sasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, you're such a fucking role model yourself! Don't act like you care about the community!" Zelina spat.

"I don't!..." Sasha shot back "...But I don't PRETEND to either! I wasn't planning to use the award as a way to boost my brand!"

"You are unbelievable! And now we have to go to BOSTON again? Ugh! You know how much I hate it there! It's such a dump and it's just BORING!" Zelina said as she sat on another bench with her arms folded. Looking exactly like a child throwing a fit.

"I didn't ask you to come with," Sasha muttered as she finally found the black dress she was looking for and tossed it carelessly into her bag.

"Oh my god! Are you serious? We're going to be fucking married you dumb bitch!" Zelina shouted.

"FINE!" Sasha roared as she slapped the wall in frustration before spinning to face an obviously startled Zelina. "If you want to come with then just leave the fucking cameras and we'll go!" she raged at Zeilina.

"The show is SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT US! THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW US!" Zelina shrieked, firing right back up at Sasha's response. "What does it even matter? It's just some random old white guy's funeral-" Zelina started to say but Sasha's eyes flared and she cut Zelina off with a raised finger.

"RIC FLAIR WAS A LEGEND AND GREAT MAN! You keep his name out your mouth unless it's with the proper respect! And I am NOT going to ruin his funeral with your goddamn camera's everywhere!" Sasha snarled through gritted teeth. Rather than keep looking at the woman who was enraging her she spun around and began grabbing other items for her trip.

She knew Zelina was only silent because she was trying to think of something venomous to spit at her but she didn't care. As soon as she'd heard about Ric Flair's death she'd known she was going back to Boston for the funeral. Nevermind the fact that she'd likely run into all sorts of people who didn't like her there. Ric had believed in Sasha before anyone else, even if she hadn't ended up training with him. She owed him big for all the favors he'd done her over the years.

Despite this, she was still worried.

She had basically forbidden Zelina to come with because she hadn't wanted to ruin the funeral by turning it into a circus. But what if she ran into Charlotte Flair? Or Becky Lynch? What if she ended up making a scene even with her good intentions. Sasha was honest enough to admit that she didn't have enough control over her temper to guarantee she'd stay cool if confronted directly. Then something even more disturbing occurred

What if Bayley was there?

And what if she ran into the other woman?

No matter how Sasha had tried in the months since their parting she hadn't been able to fully harden her heart against Bayley. She'd tried, oh how she'd tried, to find a way to paint herself as the victim in their quarrel but she just couldn't. She wasn't sure which possibility she dreaded more: that Bayley might be angry with her or if she'd completely moved on.

Forcing this aside Sasha through a few last items into her bag before zipping it and carrying it toward the door. She had more stuff to grab but she couldn't stand being in the tense resentment of the closet any longer. As she passed by Zelina the other woman finally spoke.

"I hate you," she said in a quiet voice but one full of sincere venom.

The thing was, and Sasha was realizing this more and more, there were two people in the closet who felt that way. But maybe one of them was getting sick of it.

Sasha paused and turned to regard Zelina, her 'fiance'. "I don't care," she said.

Charlotte

Charlotte took a deep breath of fresh air as she stepped outside of the Bearer Funeral Home. Her lungs filling with air that didn't seem tainted.

She couldn't help herself from shaking a bit as she walked towards her car and hopped inside. Finally allowing her mask to drop for just a moment in the privacy of her own car.

The amount of work that needed to be done for Ric's funeral was overwhelming. Not just because of the obvious emotional reason, but logistics for the event made it difficult to deal with.

Ric had obviously touched a lot of people in his life and the number of people that wanted to attend only continued to grow.

Charlotte let her forehead drop to make contact with the steering wheel. The cool leather against her skin making the blonde start back into action and start the car.

As the engine of her 2015 silver Lexus roared to life Charlotte found none of the normal happiness she felt when driving it.

For most of her life Charlotte had accepted Ric's absentee father gifts. Usually in the form of something big and flashy, which meant that over the years Ric had bought her three cars. Each one its own physical reminder of her father's guilt.

As an adult she had finally had enough and put in her own money to buy her own car for once. It didn't matter what car it was, the fact that Ric hadn't bought it felt like a statement. A statement that Charlotte was finally taking control of her life and becoming something more than just Ric Flair's daughter.

Strangely enough, Charlotte missed those old cars. He may have bought them out of his own guilt but Ric had bought them for her. It had been a sign that he cared even if he wasn't great about showing it outside of lavish gifts.

When she arrived at her next location Charlotte found herself wondering how she had even got there. Her mind running on autopilot as she drove and making the turns without and real input on her behalf.

As she strolled into the building, Charlotte tried to keep her head high. Walking as if she owned the place and was completely in her element.

The narrow corridor stretched out in front of her. Lined on both sides with large door and placards to show what lay behind each one.

Each step down the hall seemed to echo in Charlotte's ears like drums from the deep beneath the soles of her feet. Warning her of impending doom. Unable to stop it, but maybe enough to prepare herself for it.

When she finally reached the door that heralded her doom Charlotte hesitated. Shifting her weight back and forth between feet.

She could always just leave. No one would really know or care besides her. After all she was the one who made the appointment.

After a minute of debating one of the other doors in the hall began to creak open and Charlotte's decision was made.

She rushed to open the door and get inside. Irrationally not wanting anyone, even a complete stranger, to see her moment of doubt.

"You must be Molly's one o'clock. Charlotte?" A perky voice spoke up from behind a desk that took up the majority of the space.

Charlotte turned her head up at the noise and took in the woman behind the desk. The red hair reminding her of Becky before she quickly shook away the thought. Even though they shared the same hair color, the two shared basically nothing else.

This woman's eyes were bright and wide open to the point where Charlotte questioned how much there really was behind those doll eyes. Both women were objectively beautiful but this woman seemed to know it. Embracing it maybe just a bit too much. Her accent only noteworthy because it was so annoyingly California that Charlotte wanted to stab her eardrums.

"That's me." She tried to politely answer.

The redhead seemed happy with the answer. Giving her a small smile. "Great. I'm Christy by the way. Molly will call you in when she's ready."

Charlotte didn't want to continue this conversation any longer than necessary so she just nodded and took a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs across from the desk. Pulling out her phone and pretending that she was busy, when in reality she was just staring at her home screen.

When she finally heard a door open followed by a gentle, "Ms. Flair?" Charlotte looked up.

The woman was shorter than her by a good measure. Her hair cropped short into a pixie cut. She wore relatively casual clothes and her eyes seemed to be scanning Charlotte. "Yep."

"Come on in." She offered. Holding her hand out as Charlotte shook it in passing. "You can call me Dr. Holly if you really want to. Molly works just fine though."

"Alright Molly. Just call me Charlotte." The blonde said as she sat down on the comfortable looking three seat couch. Edging all the way to one side and crossing her legs.

Molly continued to exude a calming presence. The smile never leaving her face as she sat down in a soft cushioned chair that faced the couch. Folding her legs beneath her and pulling a warm knit blanket over her legs. "Well then. Let's start with something simple. What brought you here today? Why are you looking to start therapy right now?"

Charlotte's voice started out strong. "My dad actually just died, but I had made this appointment before that." She swallowed and it grew a tad shaky. "I'd known for some time now that this was coming but it doesn't make it any easier." Charlotte had to stop and look out the window. Drawing in a shaky breath as Molly patiently waited for her to continue. "I'm not happy with myself. I lashed out at people that didn't deserve it. But I… I just…" Head bowing down as she rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. "I don't know. I kind of hate myself."

Molly looked at her with sympathetic yet critical eyes. "Have you tried just saying sorry?" Obviously knowing the answer but wanting to hear Charlotte say it.

Charlotte chuckled darkly. "If it was that easy would I be here?"

To her surprise, Molly just laughed off her attitude. "Well then. I suggest we get to work."

Charlotte considered herself a relatively brave person, but the woman's words made her feel like a child who was frightened of the monster under their bed. Holding power in the darkness but, hopefully disappearing like a shadow in the light.

With a hint of her doubt and worry shining through Charlotte gathered up her courage and nodded.

Becky/Sasha

Becky normally liked working in the gym alone late at night. It gave her time to decompress and be alone with her thoughts. The gym feeling like a different world once night fell and everyone left.

Tonight felt off. The entire gym now a standing monument to the man who had suddenly passed. Becky's elation from her victory had faded in record time when she heard the news just several minutes after finishing up her quick post-fight press conference. .

Sasha had spent a lot of time in Boston recently, more than she had in years, But when she'd last been here as part of 'Boss-Z' she hadn't REALLY been in Boston. She'd been in the sheltered world of luxury and special treatment that she'd grown accustomed to due to her success. This world followed her around wherever she went, like an insulating bubble. She'd barely been aware of it for a long time, taking it all for granted.

Now she realized just how cut off she'd been.

Being back in Boston, on her own for once (she hadn't even let Teddy come with her), was a sobering experience. It was as though Sasha Banks, the woman, had re-emerged after being so long submerged beneath the suffocating mask of 'the Boss'. She'd deliberately chosen a less fancy hotel that she usually stayed in. She'd checked in under a false name and hadn't made any media aware that she was in town. There would be no avoiding SOME attention of course, especially at the funeral, but she wanted to minimize it.

Becky sighed and repositioned the ladder near one of the gym walls. Bringing some cloth and cleaner to wipe the dust off of all the old pictures and poster frames that lined the walls. Her right knee trembling when she pushed off it to climb up to the next rung. Pushing through till she was standing close to the top and could easily reach what she needed to.

If Becky was being honest with herself, there was really no need to be cleaning so thoroughly, but she would rather have a goal to focus on than be left with her own thoughts right now.

There was only so long Sasha she could keep herself couped up in her hotel room. And it seemed that that fucking show was on ALL the time. So that evening she'd pulled on her jacket and walked down to her rental car. After starting it she'd pulled onto the busy Boston streets and had simply driven. She wasn't sure she should have been behind the wheel frankly, so little attention was she giving the road. But she wanted to think.

As drove past the spot that had once been the Old North Church Sasha was lost in reflections on her childhood spent in this city. Specifically she was thinking what her parents, long dead, would think of her present life. Or even what a much younger Sasha would make of it. As a child she'd sometimes looked into downtown Boston and wondered what it would be like to live there in the lights. She'd never imagined she'd own a condo there in addition to a mansion on the California coast.

And as she thought, she knew where she had to go. But first, a stop.

When she left the first florist she found she drove to a particular run-down neighborhood. A neighborhood that she'd gone to not that long ago. She'd gone there to invade Charlotte Flair's press conference in what she now realized was a giant temper tantrum. She felt ashamed of herself, and as usual she was tempted to blot this out with anger. To call on 'the Boss' to shield her from her own conscience.

But for once, she didn't do this.

Being surrounded by images of Ric didn't really help Becky. Just like everything else she tried, cleaning only helped keep her mind occupied for so long.

Meticulously she ensured that not a speck of dust was left. Spending far more time in one location than was needed. Going over and over the same spot till she was sure that it was perfectly clean.

Driving down the lonely street toward the Flair Gym she was surprised to see lights on inside. She'd been planning to simply leave the flowers outside at the door. But now...she wasn't sure. Could she really go in? What if she ran into Charlotte Flair herself? She was tempted, sorely tempted, to once again either hide behind anger or to simply leave. But she astonished herself once more.

Something told her that she HAD to go in. That not only COULD she run into Charlotte Flair, but it would best if she did. She needed to express, somehow, how much Ric Flair had meant to her. And it might be that the best way to do that would be to apologize to his daughter. Ric would have wanted that.

Taking a deep breath she grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car and into the cold Boston night.

The sound of the door opening made Becky groan quietly to herself as she just continued to go about her work. She could have sworn she remembered to lock the doors up for the night but had obviously forgot.

She heard soft footsteps make their way further into the gym. The tiny noise sounding much louder in the nearly silent building.

Becky didn't want to give whoever had entered the impression that she wanted to talk so she didn't even bother turning around. Focusing on the task in front of her and dutifully ignoring the entrant. Tossing out a quick, "Gym opens at nine," in a blatant dismissal.

She made a show of taking extra care in cleaning one of Ric's old championship belts that was hung high on the wall. Her face dropping in annoyance when didn't hear any response. Not even the sound of those same soft footsteps leaving from where they came.

Sasha had stepped into the gym, bombarded by a sudden flood of memories. She was only vaguely aware of what she was doing as she stepped into the large open space. Her eyes slide across the rings, the workout equipment, and and the pictures. There were pictures everywhere. She was so enraptured that she completely missed the other person in the room.

Becky began to speak even as she twisted to look behind her on the ladder. "If you came here for-" The rest of the sentence catching in her throat when she saw who it was. "What are YOU doing here?" The swift and reflexively cold words coming out before she had time to think.

Sasha whirled at the voice, the familiar voice. Finding its source her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I go wherever I like," she said coolly.

With a huff Becky descended the ladder. Taking extra care to try and hide the limp she had since Nikki had swung her baseball bat of a leg into Becky's surgically repaired knee. She grimaced when she wasn't able to fully hide it. Hating to show any weakness in front of the person who had caused the initial damage. "Of course you do. I'll ask you one more time. What are you doing HERE?" Fixing Sasha with a stern glare.

"Did I miss something? Do I suddenly have to explain myself to you?" Sasha said acidly.

Becky crossed her arms and planted her feet. "This isn't your gym."

"Who are you? The hostess?" Sasha asked dismissively.

"Someone who gives a shit about this place. Doesn't seem like you do after your last visit."

"How would you know? You hid the whole time," Sasha shot back, her fists clenching.

Becky took a step forward but stopped herself from advancing further. "If Charlotte's dumb ass hadn't locked me up you wouldn't be so mouthy."

Sasha made a show of examining her nails as she said in a falsely casual tone: "Oh right because the last time we fought you put me in my place didn't you? Oh, wait…"

"I'm man enough to admit I took you lightly. On my worst day, you managed to get one up on me. How did your last fight go by the way? Wallet feeling a bit lighter?" Becky mocked.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who's a has been burnout. Tell me, if you hadn't gotten lucky against Cross would you have vanished for a year again?" Sasha asked acidly.

Becky snorted and gave a dry chuckle with no real humor in it. "You never disappoint. Are you practicing being a bitch for your reality show? Or does it just come naturally?"

Sasha had to work to restrain herself from striding toward Lynch now. She HATED being laughed at. "Some of us can handle being a superstar AND the best damn fighter in the world, not that you'd know about that," she said, her voice decreasing in volume now.

Becky's pretend good nature faded quickly. Her eyes searching the woman across from her. Automatically thinking about how best to attack the other woman, and what her tendencies were.

She killed those thoughts quickly when she shifted and her knee reminded her that any real heavy physical activity would be a poor choice. If she couldn't hurt Sasha physically, Becky had only one option. "Oh! By the way… Bobby says hi."

The flames rose higher in Sasha's gut at this. Her lips compressed into a thin line and her brow twitched as she dropped her flowers and removed her jacket. She then reached slowly up into her hair and grabbed the sunglasses there before tossing them to the ground as well. She followed this by removing her rings and dropping as well, forming a small pile worth well over 20,000 dollars.

"Alright tough guy…" she said quietly as she began to stride forward. Sasha had grown up in a rough neighborhood in Boston and she'd known how to fight long before she'd begun training to compete. She was fully prepared to embrace these roots when a crinkling sound made her look down. As she'd been stepping forward she'd accidentally kicked her flowers. She watched, oddly hypnotized, as they slid across the battered floor and came to stop almost perfectly halfway between herself and Lynch.

Becky had automatically begun to drop back into a fighting stance as Sasha made clear her intention. Even if she probably wouldn't win she would make sure the other woman knew she was in a fight. The noise of the flowers sliding across the floor pulled Becky's attention. In a flash, she realized what Sasha had come here to do and all the fight left her. She felt like she should say or do something, yet she just stood there like a statue. Staring down at the flowers on the floor like she wasn't sure they were real.

Sasha Banks wasn't one for signs, or omens, or any other form of supernatural communication. But she was suddenly struck by the overwhelming suspicion, nay certainty, that this was a sign from Ric. Even if she was wrong, it was a reminder of him and that was enough to drain the fight right out of her. Something that, thus far in her life, only one other person had ever been able to do. Her arms suddenly felt heavy and she wanted to let her shoulders slump but she wouldn't, not in front of Lynch.

Instead, she paused before speaking in a voice barely above a whisper: "Not here...not now." As she said this her eyes never left Lynch's.

Becky stared back with a look of mutual understanding. Relenting just enough to give her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. "Feels weird to say, but I agree." Right now Becky just wanted to try and keep herself together. She couldn't risk letting the grief show in front of Banks.

Sasha held Lynch's gaze for what felt like a long time, the air almost smoldering between them. Neither woman would look away, and both knew it. "I don't like you, Lynch, I never have. You were always overrated even when you had the belt. And I know you don't like me. But a good man who helped us both died and until we put him in the ground if you stay out of my way I'll stay out of yours," she said quietly.

"That's fine by me. I'd hate for you to get the idea we are friends. You don't seem to be treat them much better judging by how long they stick around." Becky bit out. Not willing to let Sasha 'Win' this verbal sparring.

Unbidden, images of Bobby and Bayley rose in Sasha's head. Lynch's words tore at an emotional wound that was all the rawer because Sasha knew she was guilty as charged. Any number of retorts suggested themselves to her but she bit all but one back. "Oh yeah? What would you do without my leftovers, Becky? Starve?" she asked as she bent down to retrieve her jewelry and jacket.

"You threw them away like trash. What did you expect them to do? Just stop living? I don't know how the hell they put up with you." Becky countered. "How did Bayley stay friends with you? You must have some heart in there that she could see."

Sasha stiffened at this and hated herself for being so obviously affected by Lynch's words. To cover this she turned away from Lynch as she bent to retrieve her flowers. It was on the tip of her tongue to reveal her secret then. To tell Lynch that everything that had happened to her recently was all thanks to her. But something stopped her. That something was the thought of Bayley.

Sasha thought of how much she missed Bayley and how badly she'd treated her. This led to a thought of how Bayley would have handled this situation. Bayley would have apologized to Lynch for everything, and extended an olive branch. Sasha wasn't able to go this far. So, instead, she spoke quietly saying: "Bayley always sees the best in everyone, that's her gift...even the people who don't deserve it." she said this while keeping her face carefully angled away from Lynch.

Becky swallowed and took a breath. Sasha's words striking a chord inside her. "Sounds like her." Her eyes burning a hole in the floor as she thought about the brunette. "Wish she made better choices with who is worth her time, but I'm sure she would be mad at me for suggesting that."

Sasha almost smiled at this, almost.

"I'm sure you've learned this by now. Bayley will always try to help people she thinks need it. Even if they try to tell her to go away," she said, toying idly with the buds of her flowers. A moment later she grasped them and stood slowly but still kept her back to Lynch as she wiped at a rebellious tear.

Becky toyed with the idea of saying something that would likely piss Sasha off, but couldn't find it in her to do it. Talking about Bayley had made her think about what the reporter would tell her to do. "The funeral starts at eleven." These words as close as she would ever get to telling the other woman that she would accept her for the day and not make a scene. Not really an olive branch, but more of a temporary truce offer.

No more words were required, Sasha knew it and she knew that Lynch did as well. She just nodded and looked down at her flowers once more. There was another pause before she walked slowly over to a large picture of Flair, one showing him smiling at the camera with his arms around his children. When she reached it Sasha studied the faces, especially that of Charlotte Flair. She looked so much less burdened, so much happier in this photo.

With a rueful expression, Sasha knelt and put the flowers on the ground under the photo. As she stood again she pressed her fingers to her lips and then touched them to the photo, Ric Flair. With that, she left, without another word or once looking back.

Becky stood still as she watched Sasha. Keeping quiet and allowing the young woman her moment.

As the other fighter left the gym Becky peered down at the flowers. A small petty side of her wanting to just throw them away and erase and evidence that Banks had ever been inside her home.

Turning on her heel Becky walked over to the front doors and made sure they were locked. Striding back across the gym and hitting the light switches. Plunging the building into near pitch black. The windows at the top of the walls allowing in a small amount of light from outside.

With a heavy heart, Becky walked up to her room.

The flowers still sitting untouched beneath the freshly cleaned picture that hung above.

Charlotte/Bayley

No one really tells you how much work goes into planning a funeral, but Charlotte had been learning the hard way all week.

With just a day until the funeral last minute arrangements continued to roll in. She was sitting in her office and both her office her personal phone had been ringing all day.

Her father's death didn't mean the world stopped spinning and the gym still needed to be looked after.

She tried to follow some of Molly's advice and took a few sips of some ice cold water to give her a moment to think.

It didn't seem to help much but then again, Charlotte was under an abnormal amount of stress right now.

Surrounded by all these old pieces of her father's memorabilia probably wasn't helping matters either, but she couldn't bring herself to leave right now. Old memories floating through her mind as she tried to concentrate. Her hand wiping at one of her eyes before swiping through her hair.

When she hung up on the latest news outlet calling for a comment Charlotte melted back into her chair. Enjoying the moment of reprieve before the ringing began again. First from her personal phone and just as she reached it, now from her business one.

Charlotte groaned but heard a small knock on her office door. Uncaringly calling out, "It's open." Before picking up her personal phone and letting the other ring on. "Hello…"

Two connecting flights that amounted to most of the day in the air had left Bayley feeling exhausted. But this had been the first flight she could get and she'd known the moment that she'd heard about Charlotte's father, that she had to go. Charlotte had been truly horrible to her but this was not the time for dredging up the past. Now was a time when people would reveal their true characters.

Flying to the East coast to be there for Charlotte was, of course, primarily about supporting a woman that Bayley had once considered a friend. A woman who had certainly angered her, but one that Bayley still found she liked on some deep and hard to affect level. But it had also been about Bayley's ability to sleep at night. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she'd chosen this moment to hold onto a grudge.

This didn't mean she wasn't nervous as she ascended the familiar and yet so alien stairs. She'd exchanged a few pleasantries with Ruby when she'd arrived but it was obvious to her that the fighter was concerned. No doubt she was worried about what kind of explosion might result from her visit. But if there was an explosion it wouldn't come from Bayley Martinez.

"It's open," came the familiar voice. The voice that, when Bayley had last heard it, had been full of cold venom. Closing her eyes and taking one last steadying breath she pushed the door open and stepped through, being careful to shut it behind her.

Charlotte didn't even bother looking up as the new entrant approached her. Eyes closed as she was given more information on the funeral. The church now having to adjust the plan due to the fire marshall's worry over the number of funeral goers. "That sounds fine…" Her other phone finally stopped ringing and Charlotte could focus on the words being spoken to her. Holding up a finger to whoever had entered and staring down at the long list of things that needed to be done strewed across her desk.

Bayley wasn't sure what to do. Charlotte hadn't even looked up and seemed unaware of who was standing across from her. Bayley took the chance to study the other woman, and she was concerned about what she saw. Charlotte's usually immaculately pressed and clean clothing was looking decidedly rumpled. She'd obviously put her makeup on in a hurry and her hair looked like it hadn't been properly washed in a few days.

She was looking tired as well, exhausted even. This wasn't surprising of course, her father had just died. But when Bayley considered all the others thing on Charlotte's plate she was actually surprised Charlotte even looked as good as she did. As if to emphasize her overworked status her desk phone began to ring again even as she was still on her personal cell. When this happened Charlotte spun her chair away from the phone, and Bayley, obviously trying to minimize the noise.

Bayley licked her lips but didn't say anything until the phone on the desk stopped ringing. She was just drawing breath to say something when it began to ring again. Looking down at the switchboard Bayley saw that there were actually multiple calls coming in on the line. Just as she noticed this she heard Charlotte make a frustrated sound from behind her chair followed by something that sounded like a choked sob.

Setting her face Bayley stepped forward, set down the bag she'd been carrying, and picked up the phone saying: "Ms. Flair's office."

Charlotte felt like she was ready to scream at the neverending assault on her senses. The sudden voice from behind her sounded familiar, and it took only a second for her to place it.

She kept her phone at the side of her head even though she was no longer listening. Spinning her chair slowly back around for her eyes to confirm what she already knew.

When she spotted it was Bayley she could feel her eyes widen with shock. Convinced that the other woman probably would want nothing to do to her. She had even come to accept that Bayley might not even listen should she try and apologize, but to see her here suddenly in person shocked Charlotte to her core.

Her eyes caught onto the reporters and Charlotte knew she must look like she'd seen a ghost. The last thing she would have expected today was Bayley in her office. Even though she assumed the brunette would want to come to the funeral that didn't mean she was going to interact with Charlotte after their last meeting.

"We're sorry, but Ms. Flair will not be offering any comments at the moment. If you have any further questions please direct them to Alexa Bliss, thank you," Bayley said, giving Charlotte a tired but friendly smile. She repeated this formula five times in a row until she'd cleared the lines. When she had she reached down and unplugged the phone. This left the room in a very heavy silence. Bayley's smile was starting to feel very strained as she continued to look at Charlotte's face. There she saw an expression that suggested Charlotte had either seen a ghost or just been exposed to a great deal of electrical current.

After these uncomfortable moment's had begun stretch toward a minute she cleared her throat and said: "It seemed like you could use the help." Lifting the phone's receiver again as though Charlotte wouldn't be aware of what she'd meant.

Charlotte hung up on whoever she had been ignoring. Blinking a few times and sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Here was an opportunity to apologize, but Charlotte didn't feel she deserved it. "Thanks…" Holding her breath as a part of her continued to almost question if she was dreaming. She hadn't been getting a lot of sleep or any for that matter, so it wasn't out of the question.

"Reporter...shrink...and press sec," Bayley said timidly. The joke was feeble beyond belief but it was all she could manage at the moment.

The blonde allowed herself a tiny smile. Silencing her phone when she saw another call coming in already. More than likely whoever she hung up on was calling back. "Impressive resume."

Rather than try to preserve the limp repartee Bayley turned around and opened the bag she'd been carrying. Reaching inside she turned around with a six pack of beer in her hand. " Ha sido un tiempo," she said tentatively.

"It has." Charlotte swallowed around the lump in her throat. If Bayley was willing to try then Charlotte figured she needed to try twice as hard in return. Her mouth suddenly feeling dry just as she began to speak. "I'm an asshole." Taking a deep breath and licking her lips. "I need to say that I'm sorry for how I acted that night. I don't know if I can overstate how sorry I am." There was just something about Bayley that made Charlotte want to be better. Bayley probably wouldn't consider herself a leader, but it was hard not to want to follow her example if you were around her for any significant amount of time.

"I know you'll fully appreciate it when I say, I'm kind of getting used to receiving this sort of apology," Bayley said with a sad smile that was nonetheless more genuine than previously. To give herself something to do she dug out two beers and, automatically it seemed, moved to stand in front of Charlotte's desk to open it on the corner. As she did she saw the many scuff marks that she herself had made there.

"Could you at least call me a few names. Maybe tell me how much of an ass I am?" Charlotte jokingly, but also seriously asked. "That would actually be easier than you taking the high road." Her eyes found the framed picture of them still sitting on her desk angled towards Charlotte and away from the brunette.

"OK…" Bayley said quietly as she rounded the desk to hand Charlotte an open beer before sitting on her desk. The truth was, part of Bayley wanted to do everything Charlotte was suggesting and more. She wanted to demand to know how Charlotte could have been so cruel. But perhaps it was her years of dealing with fighters, or maybe something else, but she found this voice easy to ignore. Looking down at Charlotte she said one word: "... amiga ."

Charlotte accepted the beer and her eyes drifted back to the picture before moving back to the real life version in front of her. She wanted to say it was far more than she deserved, but Molly had helped make her aware of her own tendency towards personal self-sabotage and she pushed down the instinct. " Gracias..." She said and raised her beer. "Amiga."

People didn't always get a second chance, let alone a third. Charlotte would make sure she didn't throw it away this time.

Bayley sipped her beer silently for a few moments before, despite the sadness of the situation, the barest of smiles touched her face as she said: " Puta…"

Charlotte grinned.

Charlotte/Becky

Charlotte stared into the mirror at herself. Obsessively straightening out the black dress she wore as if this time would suddenly make her feel ready to face the inevitable.

She had already been getting ready for far longer than necessary, so it should have come as no surprise when a gentle knock tapped against the wood door. "Charlotte?" The tentative and unsure voice of Becky came through.

Charlotte gave up on trying to fix the probably imagined imperfections and gulped. "Yeah."

Becky's head poked inside. Her hair loose, with rebellious orange tendrils deciding to escape from the rest and fall in front of her eyes. The Irish woman quickly pushing them back behind her ear as she gave Charlotte a smile that was not quite right. "People are starting to arrive."

The words were technically correct but Charlotte knew Becky meant that people arrived who were looking to speak to her. Sighing out loud Charlotte answered. "Thanks, Becky." Her heart hammering in her chest at the reality that would face her when she made her way down to the funeral itself.

The door opened a little further before Becky clearly thought better of it. Her nails tapping nervously against the wood. "Don't mention it… I will try to buy you some more time." Inherently understanding that the blonde was obviously not looking forward to being told 'I'm sorry for your loss' over and over and over again.

Just before the door closed Charlotte called out, "Becky!" and the redhead quickly poked her head back in with a quizzical look. Charlotte floundered for a moment as the apology she wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue. "... Thanks."

Becky forced a tiny smile but held her tongue. Just giving a tiny nod and vanishing as quickly as she had come.

When she looked back in the mirror Charlotte was sorely tempted to continue trying to fix non-existent problems but decided that she had to go face the music eventually.

Becky/Bayley

Becky walked back down to the main floor of the church where the funeral was being held and with a deep breath went back into the fray. Trying to greet the funeral goers and help keep everything relatively on track.

Normally, something like this would fall on Charlotte or Alexa's shoulders, but both blondes were occupied. One, upstairs with her own grief, and the other was dealing with the media and trying to ensure that no over-eager journalists somehow cast a shadow on such a somber day.

She had just finished having a quick chat with Arn Anderson and was moving to find something else to keep her busy when a voice she would have rather never heard again burst into her ears.

"Becky! Oh my gosh! Poor girl. Are you doing alright?" Her ex Carmella's infuriatingly annoying voice seemed out of place in the current setting.

Becky had to close her eyes and clench her fists before she turned. Fury rising as she saw the other woman dressed in an almost blindingly yellow dress that seemed so tight Becky was honestly unsure if the other woman could breathe. The neckline plunging so low that it ended just above Carmella's belly button. Not exactly normal funeral attire to say the least.

Looking to both sides Becky saw that Carmella's appearance and piercing voice had already attracted attention.

Becky had no intention of allowing anything to screw up the service and with a low growl she grabbed a hold of Carmella by the elbow and dragged her off to a small unoccupied alcove on the side. Roughly handling her till they were sufficiently away from the rest of the arriving guests that they hopefully wouldn't notice.

"What the fuck do you want?" Becky hissed out as she nearly tossed the other woman when she let go of her hold.

Carmella rubbed at her arm and grinned over at Becky. "No need to be so rough." Leaning in close enough that the Irish woman could recall the old perfume she always wore; Arrogance , not to mention giving her a generous view down her cleavage. "Save it for the bedroom sweetheart."

Becky growled and poked a finger into the other woman's chest. "You have to be insane if you think I would ever want anything to do with you again." She couldn't deny that Carmella still looked stupidly beautiful, but there was and hadn't ever really been anything more than that to draw her in.

"Are you sure Becks?" Carmella licked her lips. "We had such good times didn't we?"

Memories of alcohol and pill motivated fucking blew through Becky's mind and an odd part of herself did miss the simplicity of it. At least in those moments, everything felt so simple, but Becky knew now that was an illusion. A tempting illusion for sure, but not a real solution. "I don't know what the hell you are remembering. Why are you even here?"

"I can't come to say goodbye to a legend?" Carmella tried her best to feign hurt at Becky's words.

"Wrong answer. You get one more shot before I throw you out of here." Becky warned.

Carmella's facade of caring seemed to fade and for just a moment her eyes looked like that of a predator stalking her prey. "I know you. Figured you might need a little help getting over the old man." Her intentions clear now to Becky.

"Win a couple fights and suddenly you pretend to give a shit?"

"You're being very rude Becky." The woman in question rolling her eyes. "I'm just offering you an escape." Carmella slowly moving forward like a panther. Backing Becky up until the wall stopped her retreat. "A way to blow off some steam." Her right hand landing on Becky's thigh and trailing up beneath the hem of her dress. "I can tell you need it."

Becky inhaled sharply as Carmella's fingers danced on her thigh. "You might be right." The other woman's face rising in triumph, "But you are the last person on earth that I would look to for help."

Carmella's face falling and being replaced with a snarl before she realized and tried another approach.

Even with a fighter's reflexes, Becky was caught off guard by Carmella throwing herself at her. Fusing their lips together and moving her hand even further upwards.

After a second of surprise, Becky quickly grabbed Carmella's hand from under her dress and spun them around. Slamming the other woman a little harder than necessary in her anger. "You really need to leave before I do something I regret."

Carmella just smirked and ran the fingers of her free hand through Becky's hair, much to the redhead's chagrin. "I'm worried about you sweetheart. You're so tense. Someone needs to be there for you during these 'trying' times."

Bayley had been standing off to one side of the nave. She'd been engaged in conversation with two legends of the boxing world, JJ Dillon and Tully Blanchard. Under better circumstances, Bayley would have tried to get them to make some on the record comments. Both men had been part of Ric Flair's unofficial group that had ruled the sport through the '80s and early '90s. Today, she was too glum herself to do much more than be a sympathetic ear for the two men.

She'd been at this for a few minutes before an odd motion over Tully's shoulder caught her eye. It took Bayley a moment to realize what had caught her attention, it was a sudden flash of red hair ducking into one of the alcoves that lined the nave and contained the smaller shrines. A moment later comprehension followed as another bright flash, this time a very out of place yellow dress, followed the hair.

Bayley had seen the dress earlier, noting it with disapproval. Not so much for the garment itself, though it was out of place both by color and style for a funeral, but more who was wearing it. Carmella Dale had been Becky's 'girlfriend' during the most public parts of her downward spiral. Bayley had never met the woman but as a reporter who had documented much of that sad time she couldn't help but know who she was.

She supposed there didn't have to be anything inherently bad about Becky speaking with the woman again. Becky was a big girl and could look out for herself...usually. But something was setting Bayley on edge about the whole thing. Excusing herself she hurried across the nave toward the alcove. She couldn't see anything more than Carmella's back but was fairly sure this was only due to her angle. The other two women would be invisible to the church at large. Then she saw Carmella lunge at Becky.

Pique rose inside of Bayley as she watched the woman press her lips to Becky's. Quite apart from it being fairly classless behavior at a funeral she was also indignant on her friend's behalf. An uncharacteristic rage began to build inside of Bayley as she continued to hurry forward. She only stopped once, to gently touch the elbow of Ruby Riott, who was talking with Liv and several other people.

"Make sure no one follows me for a few minutes OK?" she asked the fighter. Ruby seemed startled by the request but she nodded and Bayley gave her arm a squeeze before closing the final twenty feet or so.

She'd discarded her first impulse to grab Carmella by her fake hair and to demonstrate to the world just how much of it WAS fake. This was a funeral after all. But she had thought of something that ought to serve just as well.

Schooling her face into a pleasant smile she stopped just outside the alcove and called in an innocent voice: "Becky? Are you over here Becky?"

When she heard the new voice entering Becky froze. Almost all thought of Carmella leaving her in an instant as she whirled around to see if her ears were deceiving her. She had assumed that Bayley would want to make it to the funeral but hadn't seen her enter. "I'm right here Bay." She answered breathily. Carmella huffing in annoyance as Becky ignored her.

Finally rounding the corner into the alcove with an expression of perfect innocence on her face Bayley searched theatrically before she allowed her gaze to fall on Becky. The situation was fairly obvious from the way Carmella was looking down and tugging at the hem of her dress. Part of Bayley, a part she wasn't proud of, automatically asked whether or not Becky had actually wanted this. But she shoved that aside. Not only did she believe Becky had changed for the better but she also needed to get her out of here.

"Oh, there you are hermosa, I've been looking all over for you," she said happily as she stepped forward with her hand out to Becky. She was speaking in a much more girlish voice that was usual for her and she hoped Becky would pick up on the cue.

Luckily Becky was facing away from Carmella. Her expression was dumbstruck by the reporter's sudden appearance and altered voice. Staring at Bayley's extended hand as if she wasn't sure what to do with it. She recognized the Spanish word Bayley used, but couldn't place it. "Bayley?"

" Aye dios mio, of course, 'Bayley'" Bayley said with the air of a chagrined spouse confronted by their forgetful partner. Stepping forward she yanked Becky to her side with as much force as she could without making it obvious. Snaking her arm through the startled fighters she turned to Carmella with an incandescent grin and said, still in her obnoxious voice: "Hi! I'm Bayley Martinez, with ? I hope she hasn't been bothering you has she?"

Becky's eyes were still wide as she found herself pulled tight against Bayley. Carmella glaring at them with curiosity and barely concealed fury. Her smirk turning towards Bayley now, "Of course not. We were just getting… reacquainted." The former Pats cheerleader made sure to make the last word seem as lascivious as possible.

Becky growled at the way Carmella was clearly trying to intimidate Bayley. Taking a step forward before a deceptively strong arm pulled her back.

"Oh, you know Becky?" Bayley asked eagerly. "Well I'm sorry for interrupting but I need to borrow her for a bit. But I guess we have a minute here so we can all get acquainted can't we hermosa?" Bayley crooned before leaning in to kiss Becky on the cheek.

If Becky's brain was a computer than she needed time to reboot. She had got an inkling of what Bayley was trying to do when she pulled her to her side, but the kiss had caught her off guard. Her feet luckily seemed to still be working as she hadn't fallen flat and her brain was slowly starting to catch back up. " Hermosa? That means beautiful or something right?"

"Dios mio, a veces no tienes remedio…" Bayley said with a sitcom-worthy eye roll before turning to Carmella "...honestly we've been together for a few months and she still doesn't know any Spanish!"

If Carmella was fuming before, she was nearly murderous at this point. "Really? Becky didn't mention she was seeing anyone?"

"I know right? Honestly, I feel like she sometimes leaves her brain in the cage, you know?" Bayley laughed as she put an arm around Becky's waist. She felt the other woman stiffen at this and for a moment wondered if she was pushing things too far so changed tacts. "You two couldn't have picked a better place to chat though," she said as she nodded toward the large statue that made up the shrine. "Do you know who that is?" she asked earnestly.

Carmella crossed her arms. Not even bothering to look at the statue that loomed behind them. "Enlighten me."

Bayley had grown up Catholic and had largely resented the countless hours she had to spend in various churches. But suddenly she was glad for the many MANY Saints that had been pounded into her brain. Smiling like a tour guide she said: "That's Saint Nicholas! You know...Santa Claus? Anyway, he was a truly exceptional man who was very generous with the poor, even dropping little bags of coins into their home...which is why we have some of our Christmas traditions. Now, he's a busy guy as the patron saint of archers, merchants, pawn brokers, sailors, brewers, and students!" she finished happily before adding, in a voice much more like her own "...as well as prostitutes."

Becky was in the middle of rebooting her brain once again after Bayley's arm had slipped around her waist. After Carmella had made the move on her Becky had begun to recall just how long it had been for her since the last time she had significant contact with someone outside of fighting. The warm arm around her waist holding no ill intent made her feel abnormally content and safe. Finding it hard to concentrate on Bayley and Carmella's conversation when she just wanted to indulge in this feeling. Her ears perking up at the end and finding herself a little stunned at Bayley's clear insult.

Carmella's mouth opened and closed several times. Her hands clenching at her sides in futility. She sneered at Bayley. "What makes you think you can talk to ME like that?" Voice rising slightly in volume as she looked Bayley up and down. "She'll get bored of you in a second. Then she will come crawling back to me."

Becky had enough of being a spectator. "ENOUGH!" Breathing deeply through her nostrils as her anger grew. Not only did Carmella decide to come here and disrespect Ric but now she was trying to make Bayley feel less than. "I told you kindly to leave. Now I am TELLING you to get the fuck out of here." Her arm unconsciously slipping around Bayley's midsection and giving her a small squeeze.

"Maybe find the other half of your dress too...this is a church," Bayley said with cloying sweetness as she wiggled her fingers at Carmella.

Carmella stomped away in a huff. Doing her best to ignore the two. Her stiletto heels clicking away on the stone floor and heralding her departure.

Waiting until Carmella was far enough that she wouldn't able to hear Becky leaned in towards Bayley and whispered. "Thanks. I was close to just knocking her out and trying to hide the body."

Bayley laughed as she leaned her head against Becky's shoulder, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her friend's presence. "I never was a mean girl, but I was one of their favorite targets...feels kinda good to be on the other end of one of those lines for once," she said idly.

Becky felt her heart warm a little bit at the small tidbit of information Bayley felt comfortable sharing with her. Tilting her head down and pressing a kiss to the top of the brunette's hair. "You deserve it… And so does she."

Bayley smiled again as she felt Becky kiss her head. Despite the sad setting some of her innate mischief returned briefly as she said: "I know we shouldn't, because she's having a terrible time, but wouldn't it be hilarious if we walked over to Charlotte like this and told her we were dating? I think the veins in her forehead might literally burst."

The redhead gave a light laugh out of respect for the attempt but felt a bit reserved. She was trying to be nice to Charlotte, but the way she had acted when Ric had collapsed still stuck with her. "Yeah… Probably."

Bayley sensed the hesitation in her friend but decided it was probably just that Becky wasn't ready to joke about today. Bayley had to admit she had an unfortunate tendency to respond to situations like this with deflecting humor. So she let her face fall a little and said, without pulling away: "Alright Lynch, if you're my date today then let's get in there and support our girl."

Becky found herself smiling a tiny bit. The last time they had messaged coming floating back into her head. Being her date for the day didn't sound too bad. She missed having someone around that she got along with. Not that she didn't get along with Liv or Ruby, but the two came as a package deal more often than not, which resulted in Becky always feeling a bit like a third wheel. "I'd be honored to be your date for the day." Unable to stop herself from squeezing Bayley just a bit tighter before letting go. The loss of contact almost automatically making her hand seek out the reporters and wrap around it.

Maybe with Bayley there, she could make it through this. Bayley always seemed to make everything easier.

Sasha

It felt ridiculous to say, considering how she'd grown up, but Sasha Banks was no longer used to driving herself to any sort of public event. She'd almost forgotten what kind of hassle finding parking could be.

When she did eventually find a spot a block or so from the church she made her way back, struggling slightly as she almost never wore heels and it was still somewhat icy. As she approached the stone steps she was instantly away of many eyes turning toward her. Sasha might not have been wearing her usual 'boss' gear but her hair made her very easy to spot.

Of course the funeral of Ric Flair would involve may of the combat sporting world's elite. These people were, in many cases, Sasha's peers. Some of them were even people she admired. Which made the almost uniformly hostile looks she got all the more galling. She knew the reason of course, her last fight.

The condemnation for her actions in the cage had come from all quarters. But the loudest had come from her fellow fighters, and this had been what had hurt most. Sasha could generally care less what the media had to say about her, she'd only ever really cared for one member of it. And criticism from outside the MMA world was easiest to ignore. But though she'd never been explicit about it, she'd always wanted the recognition of her peers.

It wasn't even important that the other fighters 'like' her per say. She just wanted to be acknowledged as the best there was by people who actually knew. But the icy stares she was getting as she ascended toward the double doors was enough to remind her how far her actions had set her back in the regard.

Still if there had been one positive aspect the drastic changes that had occured in her personality over the last few years, it was an increased ability to block out hostile voices. She'd had to become very good at this. From the old school purists in her early years to the hostility now, there was always someone.

Reaching the top of the steps, she looked through the doors into the narthex without really seeing anything. Contrast with the daylight outside casing the interior of the church into shadow. She suddenly felt apprehensive as she never did before a fight. Swallowing hard she adjusted her hat and strode confidently into the church.

Only to be greeted by the one person she'd been dreading seeing most, and yet knew she had to confront.

Sasha/Charlotte

Charlotte strode down to the main floor looking about as held together as one could expect of her given the circumstances.

She looked over the sea of people that had came out for her father's funeral and was nearly overwhelmed with the amount of faces she recognized. Knowing that each of them was going to look at her with sympathy when Charlotte would prefer anything but.

Steering away from the crowd she walked closer to the walls. Walking around the building till she neared the entrance and came to a stop when she spotted yet another familiar face. An odd part of her almost welcoming the distraction. "I hope you aren't here to make a scene."

Sasha pursed her lips and removed her non-Boss sunglasses. Turning to look the tall blonde woman in her face she said: "I respected your father too much for that, as far as I'm concerned we're under a truce."

Charlotte was a little shocked. A part of her remembered the brash, young and mostly nice girl she had known for a short time in the past, but she had a hard time comparing that to the woman in front of her right now. With a heavy sigh she realized that she was probably one of the last people to be judging and decided to give Sasha the benefit of the doubt for now. "Forgive me if I'm a little wary after last time, but I will try to be civil as long as you stay the same."

Even with her head preoccupied Charlotte started slowly putting together the combustible elements that currently were inhabiting the funeral and she just hoped nothing would happen to disturb this odd peace that seemed to be holding.

Charlotte stepped closer to Sasha and leaned in. Her voice low but serious as she looked the other woman up and down. "Bayley is here… Don't mess with her again. She doesn't need it." She warned. Even though it felt hypocritical coming from her, Charlotte was determined to try and be a better friend to the woman who's easy forgiveness she didn't deserve.

Two dominant reactions rose and began to war inside of Sasha at this. The first, was a sudden irrational concern for how much Charlotte might know about her previous relationship with Bayley. It seemed unlikely that the reporter would have told anyone since she'd been so adamant about it remaining secret, but Sasha couldn't claim to know her well anymore. The second, and more predictable, reaction was anger at anyone trying to tell her what to do.

Almost every other day of her adult life the second would have won out easily. But not today.

"I don't see how that's ANY of your business, but I'm not here to cause trouble. Don't go manufacturing it," she whispered back, knowing that many eyes around the narthex would be on them.

"Fine." She hissed back. Her fire deflating when she looked back over her shoulder and spotted the casket at the far end. Turning back towards Sasha and holding her head high to give at least the illusion of calm. "For today; I trust you."

A dozen sharp retorts suggested themselves to Sasha. But somehow, none of them seemed appealing right now. It wasn't hard for Sasha to determine why, either. Bayley was here. She'd always found it easier to be...better...when the reporter was around. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath Sasha did something completely out of character.

Reaching tentatively out with her hand toward the blonde woman she was prepared for her to recoil. But when she didn't, Sasha put her hand on Charlotte's tense forearm and looked up into the other woman's eyes. She saw suspicion and uncertainty there, but it wasn't hard to see past this to the pain there. "I'm sorry...Charlotte," she said quietly, feeling almost as though a stranger was speaking with her voice.

Charlotte had been told these exact same words hundreds of times in the last few days. Each time the words seemed to mean less and less. Offering no real comfort, but rather forcing her to pretend she was thankful in some way that yet another person said sorry when there was nothing for them to truly be sorry about.

When Sasha said them they felt real in a way that stunned Charlotte into silence. Those same words somehow holding another level of meaning when spoken by someone who had no real connection to the blonde. The mask she tried to hold onto slipping away for a moment as she blinked and nodded. The words, "Thank you Sasha." coming out in a gravely tone. Her throat suddenly feeling dry as sandpaper. "I don't know what my father meant to you… But I'm sorry as well."

Seeing Charlotte's mask shake a little was enough to almost do the same to Sasha. It was surreal to her, for a long time now Charlotte and everything about her had been 'the enemy'. But now, free from 'the Boss' for once, Sasha could just see another woman who was already missing her father. She doubted they could ever get to a point where they would be friends. But she knew what she was doing was right for once.

This was a new kind of experience for her. Sasha had lived most of her adult life doing exactly what she wanted, and it often felt 'good'. But she wasn't sure how often she'd even thought about doing what was 'right'. It definitely wasn't as easy as her usual pattern of behavior, but it was much more satisfying.

Taking Charlotte's forearm and pulling the taller woman gently downward so she could speak directly in her ear, Sasha said: "You don't need to worry about me."

Charlotte drew back after a moment and nodded solemnly. Looking over her shoulder once again and seeing quite a few faces swiftly turn to look away from the pair. "So you can find your own seat then?" She threw back with none of the bite. Her tone as close to joking as it could be under the circumstances.

"I think I remember how," Sasha said, almost smiling.

Charlotte

Public speaking was not Charlotte's favorite thing to do no matter what the subject matter.

She paced off to the side as the priest continued to speak. Knowing that she was up next to speak filled her with an odd sense of foreboding.

Having to go up in front of such a large crowd and speak about her father made her feel like throwing up, despite having next to nothing in her stomach.

She had known that her nerves would likely appear and had been sure to keep her speech relatively short and to the point. Not wanting to spend too much time on the dias, lest she start breaking down before it was finished.

As the first speaker Charlotte was at least going to get it out of the way quick. Waiting longer would only make it worse on her in the longer run.

Charlotte knew the officiant well. Bruce Pritchard had been a mainstay at this church as far back as the blonde could remember. He turned towards her and gave her a sad smile. Ushering her up and patting her on the shoulder as she past him.

Now that she was up in front of everyone Charlotte felt her body start to go into fight or flight mode. The hand holding her speech shaking as she placed it on the podium in front of her. She stared out over the crowd and couldn't help but notice the orange hair that stood out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd. Her eyes falling on Becky and seeing that Bayley was sitting right next to her.

She took a deep breath and stared down at the podium. Gathering herself before she began. Her voice starting off with an initial shakiness that she powered through. "I loved my father... We had our problems. We shared tragedy… I know for so many of you here he was a hero. An idol to look up to, but to me and so many others he was family. He was my dad... He would be the first to tell you he wasn't always the greatest person, but that wouldn't stop you from wanting to be around him. Ric had a personality that just drew people to him. He had a gift to make the world seem a little bigger and brighter just by being near him." Charlotte closed her eyes and couldn't stop her own tears. Foregoing the next few sentences she had written down in her haste to get off the dias, "I'll miss you." She honestly spoke towards the casket. "Keep Reid company for me."

Bayley

Bayley found it very comforting to be sitting with Becky throughout the funeral.

It wasn't as though she'd never been to a funeral before, but somehow this one felt...more personal. She hadn't even known Ric Flair all that well, they'd spoken from time to time while she'd been in Boston and these talks had been pleasant. But she wouldn't see they'd been friends, though Ric probably would have.

Yet for all that, she found herself absolutely desolated.

A large part of this, she knew, was due to Charlotte. The other woman was usually so poised, so calm, and so in charge that seeing her so deeply affected was heartbreaking. Bayley had thought Charlotte very brave for agreeing to deliver the eulogy at her father's funeral. If Bayley had lost her dad she knew she'd be in no position for public speaking at the funeral. Then she'd watched with a heavy heart as Charlotte had struggled to read her prepared remarks.

Now, seeing her standing by the casket, all Bayley wanted to do was to go to her. But she couldn't.

Becky was resting her head on Bayley's shoulder and as Charlotte had spoken the Irish woman had squeezed Bayley's hand. Bayley had returned the pressure, grateful to have someone there with her at the moment. She would smother Charlotte in sympathy and support as soon as it was possible. But right now she didn't want to do anything to disturb Becky.

Without having to turn, Bayley had felt the Irish woman sniffle once or twice. She made a conscious effort not to look down at these times, know that her friend wouldn't want her to see. But she squeezed Becky's hand each time, just to let her knew she was there.

What she was unaware of, was that she was being watched.

Sasha

Sasha had ended up sitting at the very back of the church.

This wasn't entirely her own choice, she had arrived somewhat late. But there was also the fact that she had no desire to draw any unnecessary attention to herself and thus potentially disrupt the funeral. She was still somewhat surprised how seriously she was taking the promise she'd made to Flair just a short time ago. She would NOT be a distraction here.

And she would rain down on anyone who was.

As the priest spoke Sasha found herself lost in her memories of the man they were all honoring. Ric Flair had loomed large in the collective consciousness of Boston when she'd been growing up. Bird, Mchale Brady, Belichick, and Flair were names spoken in the same breath. In a very real way, the city itself was in mourning.

Sasha wondered what Ric had really thought of her career in recent years. The man had been famous in his youth for his wildl lifestyle outside the ring, in many ways when Sasha had been crafting the 'Boss' persona she'd been unconsciously borrowing from Ric. It was funny, in a tragic sort of way, that while Ric had been a huge influence in the best part of her life, he'd also been one in the worst. Sasha would have loved to talk to him about that irony.

But she'd never get that chance now.

A single tear ran down her cheek at this thought and she looked down to conceal this. She was more free of the Boss than she'd been in years but even Sasha Banks wasn't ready to let people see her cry. She wept quietly for a few moments before something Charlotte had told her swam to front of her mind: " Bayley is here …"

This added a bitter edge to her sadness.

As part of of her unusual clarity today Sasha was realizing yet another hard truth. Despite what she'd been telling herself for so long, it wasn't actually Bayley's fault that their relationship had imploded. The journalist had certainly insisted that they keep their arrangement secret, but Sasha had been the one who had created the environment that had made her leery. Sasha had been the one who'd decided her celebrity was what mattered. She'd been the one who'd unfairly assumed that Bayley would just wait for her.

On today of all days, Sasha Banks wasn't going to buy her own crap. She'd lost Bayley because of her actions.

But maybe she could start making it right.

She scanned the church privately for a few seconds without any success. Then she realized she'd been unconsciously seeking Bayley's trademark side ponytail. But even the reporter wouldn't be wearing it at a funeral. This made her search that much harder.

It occured to Sasha then that, for all she knew, Bayley wasn't even wearing the side pony any more. She actually didn't know much at all about what the other woman had been doing in recent months. She'd read some of her articles about Becky Lynch, but really only just as a way to make herself angry. When she was angry, she could hide from her problems. When she was angry she could pretend nothing was her fault.

Or she had in the past.

Being more careful this time, she scanned the crowd again, tuning out the priest who seemed to be telling everyone individually how much he loved them. It took awhile but eventually she spotted the brunette reporter sitting towards the front on the opposite side of the church. But she didn't have time to relish this. She'd seen who Bayley was sitting next to. The orange hair was unmistakable.

Bayley wasn't just sitting next to Becky Lynch, the irish woman was resting her head on Bayley's shoulder.

Sasha forced herself to stare at this for a long , from deep within her, the Boss arose. Offering her the easy escape of jealous anger. It would be so easy to hide as she always did.

But as she'd said to Lynch herself. Not here, not now.

Because she'd been right earlier. This was her fault. And now she had to watch as the woman she'd once loved, and Sasha had to admit that, comforted another in her arms. More insight hit her then, though it brought no joy. Throughout the last few days she realized she'd been unconsciously hoping that Bayley could do what she always had. That she could push back the boss and save Sasha.

But now Sasha knew, there would be no rescue coming.

And it was her fault.

Becky

Having attended several funerals prior Becky could honestly say that none of them compared to this. They had all been for people that she had hardly really known. People she hadn't seen in months if not years.

She had been speaking with Ric the day before she boarded a plane for her fight.

She still remembered the brief conversation they had.

Becky had been throwing on a coat to leave. Having already been sitting at his bedside for almost an hour. Taking care to hide the wrappings for the cheeseburger she had smuggled in. Ric having mentioned in her previous visit to him in the hospital that the food there was horrible.

"I know my daughter can be an ass." He had said. The words catching her off guard with such honesty about his own daughter. "Don't let her keep my worst traits."

"I'll do my best." Becky had replied. The words feeling heavy as she watched the blonde struggle through her speech.

She had meant it, but actually practicing it was difficult. The biting words the blonde had said stopping her from fully committing to the promise.

Becky took comfort in the steadfast warmth next to her. Unconsciously leaning her head onto Bayley's shoulder after they sat down, and not bothering to remove it once she became aware of it. Bayley seemed to be alright with the somewhat intimate action so why not let herself take what was being freely offered.

Having someone so larger than life suddenly gone from the world hit her harder than she was willing to admit. Fighting to keep her tears under control and sniffling as quietly as she could. Shutting her eyes tight against the vivid images of Ric lying motionless on the floor after his collapse.

Was there something she could have done? Could she have noticed something that may have helped prevent his death?

Though some rational part of her brain fought back against the absurd claims another part continued to wonder.

Bayley's subtle reassuring squeeze brought her back to the present. Her eyes opening again and letting the buildup of tears leak out and splash down onto the other woman dress.

Just like all the other times Bayley was just there for her without intruding too much. Somehow knowing inherently what Becky needed.

She let out a small shuddering breath as Charlotte moved off the podium.

Nuzzling her head into Bayley's shoulder a little more as she squeezed back. Running her thumb gently on the back of the other woman's hand in appreciation.

Becky had felt lonely for some time. Floating adrift at sea until Bayley came and scooped her out of the water.

The last year and a half had been some of the most difficult and trying time of her life and she had trudged through it alone. Walking through the fire and finally making it out the other side with the scars to prove it. Alone by her own choice. Content to sit in her own hell and climb out under her own power. Not willing to pull someone down to her level just because she was lonely.

That choice was made a long time ago. By a woman Becky hardly recognized anymore.

Maybe she was ready to not be lonely.

Becky/Sasha/Charlotte/Bayley

Charlotte thought that getting through her speech would be the most difficult thing she would have to do today.

She was wrong. Watching her father's casket lowered into the cold ground, a small clearing dug out of the thin layer of snow that remained was by far the hardest part. Chest tightening with every breath.

Slowly the crowd had dispersed. Paying their last respects and moving on with their lives.

Charlotte envied them. Molly and her had discussed this in session.

Charlotte knew that she had never truly gotten over Reid's death, but Ric's forced her to finally confront it. Death was inevitable but that didn't mean that it was ever fair or kind in how and when it came.

Reid's death had changed her. A deep scar on her soul that made her wary of chaos and things she couldn't control. Unpredictability in others making her reflexively distant. Reminding her of how Reid had been in his later days and her inability to reign him in and fight his battles for him.

Knowing this was one thing, but accepting it and working on how it was affecting her present relationships was another.

For the first time in a while her father's casket was clear of mourners and Charlotte walked up to the side. Staring down at the dark wood that would soon be beneath the ground. Losing herself in time. One hand simply resting against the edge as she stood still. Not really paying attention to how long she had been standing there when she heard two pairs of feet coming up behind her.

The ride to the cemetery had been subdued. Becky hopping in the passenger seat of Bayley's tiny blue Toyota rental car as they both sat in almost complete silence.

Bayley hadn't said anything when Becky had reached across the center console to rest her hand against the driver's knee. Nor had she said anything when Becky had begun to unconsciously squeeze harder. Just reaching down with her own hand and gently pulling the fighter's hand away. Silently offering her own hand in exchange for the knee.

Becky had continued to follow Bayley around once they got out. Standing in the cold next to the brunette as they waited for a good moment to say their goodbye's.

Over some time Becky could feel her knee tightening up on her. A combination of the cold and standing on it for an unnatural amount of time today. Her attempts to cover up the discomfort slowly becoming less effective as she was forced to lean more and more of her weight on the left knee.

Spotting a moment to go pay their respects Becky started to pull Bayley forward but stopped when she saw Charlotte walk up. Not wanting to interrupt the blonde's moment.

When she stopped herself Becky's right knee decided it had finally had enough and she was forced to hop on her left foot to try and deal with the sudden stiffness in her right.

Her balance was a little off though and if not for Bayley being right next to her she probably would have tumbled to the ground.

"Stupid fucking knee." Becky mumbled beneath her breath.

Bayley knew how sensitive Becky could be about showing any kind of weakness in front of others, especially in a public place like this. So she decided to try a tiny bit of humor to try and put the Irish woman at ease. "Yeah, say mean things to you knee...that will show it," she said as she gave Becky's hand a squeeze.

Becky appreciated the attempt at levity. "It's just being stubborn. Doctor said there was no structural damage so it's got no excuse for being lazy." Giving a fraction of her normal grin as she tried to put weight back on it again. The stiffness still there though and making it feel like she was dragging a log from her hip.

Bayley just smiled understandingly. Squeezing Becky's hand again she said: "You're doing great, it's barely noticeable."

The constant reminders of their physical connection kept helping Becky from falling into her own thoughts and getting lost. "How long are you in town for?"

Bayley could feel Becky putting more and more weight on her so she was being extra careful as they walked while trying not to make it obvious to Becky. She knew her friend would hate being perceived as a burden. "Probably for a few days after the funeral, I want to try and be helpful to Charlotte if I can," she said truthfully.

The news put a tiny smile on Becky's face that she quickly hid. Feeling oddly guilty about being happy at such a somber event. "That's cool." Becky wasn't so ready to try being helpful to Charlotte, but if Bayley wanted to do something it was probably the right thing to do. Begrudgingly the redhead looked over towards the blonde still standing next to the casket. "I know she probably needs someone to be there for her." The unspoken assumption that it wasn't going to be Becky inherent in the statement.

"I'm so sad for her…" Bayley said as she looked at Charlotte. She'd never seen the blonde looking so forlorn.

Becky didn't know what to say. So, instead of saying anything she just squeezed the reporter's hand and pulled her in closer to her side. Wrapping her arm around Bayley's shoulders and offering as much comfort as she could. Starting to feel guilty about how much of Bayley's attention she had taken.

"Ready to go?" Bayley asked the fighter.

"I'll follow you." Becky said. Her weight now leaning mostly on the other woman. "Don't have much of a choice right now."

Bayley smiled as she half led and half supported Becky forward toward the casket as another group of mourners stepped away. They were only a few feet away but Charlotte still hadn't looked up at them. Closing the distance she cleared her throat and said: "Charlotte, I'm sorry for your loss."

Charlotte shook out of her reverie for a moment and looked up. "Thanks… I'm glad you could make it." Her hand never leaving contact with the wood.

Becky stood there awkwardly as Charlotte addressed Bayley. "I'm sorry too…" For what exactly she wasn't sure. Although 'for everything' seemed like an appropriate wording.

The blonde quickly flicked her eyes towards Becky before they darted back down to the casket. A tiny hint of shame showing in them before she looked away. "Yeah…"

"Are you alone at home Char? If you like I'll come over after and stay with you awhile maybe traer algunas cervezas," Bayley offered.

Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath before responding. "That would be nice." It would have been much easier to just brush the brunette off, but Charlotte had come to realize that more often than not the easier path was only easier in the short term. "I'll text you when I get back to my apartment."

Bayley nodded before stepping forward, supporting Becky the whole way. When she looking down into the grave she said: " Yo los cuidaré por ti Ric, lo prometo."

With a quick sideways glance towards Charlotte, Becky sighed and looked down. Not trusting herself to say more she simply said, "Goodbye." Not knowing if Charlotte would want her to say anything more.

For her part Charlotte hardly noticed what the other two were doing. Still stuck in her own little world as she looked down at another casket to add to her memory.

Sasha Banks had been hiding out from the rest of the funeral goers. She was still getting the sense of subdued hostility from many of them. As such she didn't want to approach the casket with them around. That and, she didn't want anyone else there anyway. She was a private person at heart, at least 'Sasha' was. The boss thrived on attention but oddly, it didn't seem she'd made the trip.

As more and more of the crowd filtered away after giving Flair their condolences Sasha was preparing to emerge from the shadow of the tree she'd been standing beside when her heart stopped for a moment. Approaching the casket were Becky Lynch and Bayley, arm in arm, looking for all the world like a couple. This cut at Sasha deeply but she was able to maintain her composure enough to tell herself what she'd told herself at the church.

This was her fault.

She looked on for a few minutes as the three women at the casket exchanged some words that she couldn't hear. But as more time went by she realized that Bayley and Lynch might not be leaving anytime soon. And she could see the grounds crew standing by to begin the actual burial.

Somehow what she was thinking of doing now was more daunting to her than a dozen MMA matches.

Swallowing hard Sasha adjusted her hat and then began to stride toward the casket.

Charlotte continued to stand still as she heard the two other women slowly turn around and prepare to leave. In all honesty Charlotte would prefer to be alone right now, but she was making a real effort to not force it. Another pair of feet crunched through the snow and Charlotte wondered who had waited so long before coming up. Almost everyone having left ten minutes ago, with just a handful of attendants hanging around.

Bayley happened to look up at the sound of the approaching footsteps in the snow. Expecting to find just another well wisher approaching the casket she froze when she saw who it was. The magenta hair was marker enough, even if Bayley hadn't had those features burned into her heart forever.

Leaning against the brunette made it easy for Becky to feel when Bayley's entire body seemed to suddenly stiffen out of nowhere. Her worried gaze rose quickly when she spotted a bright color in the corner of her eye that stood out against the drab white and gray that surrounded them.

She knew from old interviews that Bayley had been friendly with Banks in the past but had always steered away from the potentially awkward conversation. From the way she reacted to the sight of the other fighter Becky knew that whatever had happened between the two hadn't been resolved adequately. Finally able to try and return some of the comfort Bayley had selflessly offered and rubbing her thumb gently along the tight knuckles she found. Not aware or caring if Sasha witnessed the small gesture.

Sasha thought her teeth might just shatter with how tightly she was clenching them. As she approached she suddenly found herself within arms reach of both Bayley and Lynch. One part of her wanted to reach out to Bayley, drop to her knees, and apologize to the heavens. Another wanted to lunge at Lynch and punch her face into oblivion. In the end she did neither of these things but simply kept her eyes straight ahead as she adjusted her hat to tilt downward, hiding her face from the other women.

A moment later they'd passed, though she knew the tension in her chest would not evaporate for a long time. Reaching the edge the grave she turned to catch Charlotte Flair's eyes briefly. She gave the other woman a tight nod before she looked down into the grave, at the polished wooden box that contained the remains of a man who had done so much for her.

Reaching into her pocket she withdrew her 'legit boss' rings. The gleaming gold and diamonds still managing to sparkle despite the grey day. The rings were extremely valuable, custom pieces that cost as much together as a nice sedan. Sasha stared down at them in her hands for several long moments, thinking about what they meant and what they represented, and her last conversation with Ric Flair. Before the tossed them into the grave, almost flinching at the clattering as they hit the lid of the coffin.

"No more legit Boss Ric, like you said. Besides...you were always more of one than me," she said quietly, before she turned and left without looking back.

Charlotte had stayed silent as she curiously watched the normally brash and arrogant woman strip away the ostentatious layer of jewelry and toss them down. She gave the woman the privacy she clearly wanted and looked back down.

Reaching into the pocket of her coat Charlotte pulled out her wallet and dug through. Pulling out a small scrap of paper and tossing it into the grave before finally turning away. Head held high as she sniffled just a bit. Blaming it on the cold weather.

Even though he hadn't always been the greatest dad, Charlotte was proud to call Ric Flair her father. He wouldn't want her to grieve. He would want her to be happy and live out her life. Be a better person that his early example.

She would try for him.

More importantly though, she would be a better person for herself.

Becky

It was only a day after the funeral but already the world seemed to be moving on.

Becky welcomed it to an extent. It was easier to not think about Ric when there was something to do. Which was why she hadn't canceled the class she taught. Using the two hours as a solid distraction from her grief, but only serving to refocus her mind on her confusing feelings.

She walked gingerly on her still swollen knee. The brace she had on more for precaution than anything at this point. Striding by her students drilling a simple jab cross combo into a leg kick. Acting like she was watching them for corrections to their form when really she was fumbling over a question she had been asking herself for some time.

Should she try asking Bayley out on an actual date?

Becky had been content with their friendship but with the woman on the other side of the country the Irish woman had found herself desperately missing the calm that came when she was around the journalist. Retreating to her room to be alone more often than when Bayley was actually working at the gym.

After having to defend the relationship she had with Bayley so often Becky had started to question why it would be such a bad thing. She didn't want to make Bayley's life anymore complicated but even as just friends the press continued to annoy them both about it. Becky's myriad of interviews proved that. Not to mention the few interviews Bayley had done. Mad on her behalf for having hosts ask her about their relationship rather than the amazing work Bayley did in the MMA space.

Recently though she had started to look at her differently.

She had seen the reporter very briefly during her last fight week. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't seen the other woman in nearly a month but Becky had been nervous to see her and when she finally did she felt a lightness to her soul that hadn't been there since before she had won the title. Back when everything was so much simpler and life had actually made sense.

Becky was tired of being lonely and Bayley was the exact opposite of everything she used to look for in her partners. Stable, caring, friendly, attractive but not flaunting it at every opportunity. Someone who she could actually depend on for longer than one night of passion.

"Something on your mind?" Ruby gently asked as she walked past where Becky had been standing for some time now. Idly watching the students as they continued to drill.

Startled out of her reverie Becky blinked. "There is always something going on."

"Anything in particular right now?"

Becky scratched the back of her neck for a moment. "Just thinking… Do you know how to tell if someone likes you?"

Ruby raised an eyebrow and raised her hands. "I'm not the person for this conversation. Why don't you go call Bayley." The blush that quickly covered Becky's cheeks made it all too clear who the redhead was talking about. "Oh… Well… That's something I didn't expect. Figured you and Charlotte had some weird thing going on."

"Well we don't!" Becky bit out harshly. Immediately regretting lashing out so quickly. That was just more of the old Becky showing through. A reminder that she wasn't so far removed from her own dark period. "Sorry… I'm just stressed."

"Of course you are. I didn't mean anything by it. Just was a little surprised."

"This still isn't helping me. She's going to be in town for a bit longer and I don't want to come across like I'm crazy."

Becky felt a tiny pressure at her hip and turned around. Lowering her gaze till she saw Lizzie at her hip. "My mom told me that if you like someone you should tell them or else you will always regret it."

Becky was stunned into silence which prompted Ruby to smile down at Lizzie and respond. "Your mother is a smart lady."

Once the class had ended Becky thought back on the simple but powerful words a literal child had thrown her way.

Looking over at the clock Becky knew that while it was late, Bayley would likely still be awake.

She picked up her phone and stared at it for a moment before quickly hitting the call button next to Bayley's name before she could stop herself. Reaching the point of no return when it began to ring.

On the fifth ring the call was finally picked up and Becky took a deep breath. "Hey."

Becky/Bayley

For what may have been the fiftieth time that night Becky ran a hand through her hair even though she knew it looked fine.

The elevator ride to Bayley's hotel floor seemed to be taking abnormally long and added to the nervous energy that seemed ready to burst out of her.

The side of the elevator was glass and Becky took a peak at her reflection. A fashionable pair of black jeans and warm boots. Topped with her leather jacket and a pristine white shirt that Becky had dug through her clothes for nearly thirty minutes to find.

She thought she looked decent and nonchalant. Not trying to make this into a bigger deal even though Becky hadn't been able to think of anything else since their brief conversation.

Becky had started off a little stiff but quickly tried to roll out her normal charm even though Bayley had always seen right through it.

She tried to hide her fear of rejection by acting overly confident. Telling Bayley that she deserved to have a special night and that Becky was going to make sure she got it. She had been a little put off by the laughter and quick self-deprecating comment she got in return, but Becky quickly reaffirmed that she really meant it. Allowing her mask to fall and make sure Bayley knew she was serious about having a special night with just the two of them.

When Bayley had accepted Becky had felt on top of the world. Nearly hanging up in her elation before nervously chuckling as she told the other woman that she would meet her around nine at night. Purposefully keeping where she would take the reporter as a secret. Playfully dancing around the question Bayley's journalistic nature brought.

Now that she was actually about to take Bayley on a real date that the other woman actually agreed to Becky remembered that she hadn't really been on an actual date for some time.

Carmella had never really been the type for dates. Unless you count going to a club when they were both already drunk or high as a date.

Now that she was outside of the hotel room Becky found herself hesitating to knock. "You can do this. You're Becky Lynch. It's just Bayley. She agreed to the date, so she can't be worried." Slowly taking in several deep breaths before she knocked on the door. "I've got this." Becky muttered to herself. "I've got this." She repeated. Trying to convince herself despite the tiny sinister voice in her head that was always there spouting off negativity and doubt.

As footsteps slowly came closer to the door Becky stood up straighter and ran a hand through her hair.

Of all the things Becky was uncertain of, the only thing in her life she was sure of was that Bayley deserved the best of life. Too kind for her own good and seemingly the only person willing to see through her past and speak to the who she was beneath it all.

She had already made Becky a better person just by being in her life for a short time. Even if they both go into this date and come out of it not wanting to continue Becky knew that Bayley wouldn't abandon her.

When the door finally started opening Becky took a quick inhale and pulled the small package she had from behind her back. Plastering a smile on her face that quickly turned genuine as the door opened further.

Once again overcome with the joy that being near Bayley brought, Becky couldn't help but want this to work out. Feeling like a hiker lost in the cold wilderness coming upon a fire. Never wanting to feel that cold again. Content to just sit next to the comforting fire and let its warmth soothe her.

The journalist in Bayley had been stewing for several hours now. Part of being a good reporter was being innately curious, but this also left one feeling VERY unhappy when someone denied you an answer. Not know what Becky was planning had been eating at Bayley...in a pleasant sort of way.

Knowing what she did of the Irish fighter she'd felt safe in assuming they wouldn't be going anywhere with a Michelin star, so she'd just thrown on some old jeans and a hoody. She was just pulling her hair up into its trademark side pony when she heard the knock on her hotel door. Smiling to herself and feeling happier than she probably should have so soon after a funeral Bayley walked over to the door and opened it.

"Hey Becky-...wow…" Bayley said, cutting of the sarcastic remark she'd been preparing as she looked at her friend. Becky looked...great, more put together than Bayley had ever seen her. She wasn't counting the interviews she'd seen the fighter do since she'd been under the authority of Alexa Bliss. Becky could definitely rock a dress but it never looked natural. Her current ensemble seemed to only highlight her natural good looks.

Becky smile turned into a grin, but rather than commenting on the look Bayley had given her she held out the tiny package in her hand. "Hey, Bayley. Got you a little something."

Bayley's face broke into a grin as she took the small package. Looking at the simple cardboard and twine affair her smile turned mischievous as she said: "This must have taken hours to wrap."

"I sort of ran out of time." At Bayley's skeptical look Becky conceded. "I may have also been indecisive." Her nerves showing just a bit. Unsure how exactly the reporter would react to the gift.

Bayley wasn't going to let her friend off that easily however, so as she opened the box she went on saying: "Well little Miss 'I've recently taken home two winners purses' you really splurged on the packaging I have to-" She froze as she looked at what was inside the box. Nestled in tissue paper was a small bronze chip, about the size of a poker chip. On the front of it was a large '4'.

Bayley had been close with people in the program, she knew what this was.

Looking up at Becky with a stunned expression she asked: "Are you...are you sure?"

"If it wasn't for you that would have been the last one I got… So, yeah. I'm sure." Becky honestly answered. Holding Bayley's gaze before she shyly rubbed at the back of her neck and averted her eyes. "If it's too much I can take it back. I don't want you to… you know… uhh… feel obligated or something."

"Quiet you," Bayley said, beaming as she turned around and held her hair to one side. "Help me will you?" she asked.

Becky grabbed the necklace from the other woman and stepped behind her. Carefully slipping the silver chain around her neck as she tried to control her soaring nerves. "All set," Becky said when she was finally done. The clasp giving her fingers trouble for longer than she would have liked. "Looks a lot better on you anyway. The bronze really clashes with the Irish skin."

"¿Eso fue racista? Tal vez, pero fue dulce, así que estoy bien con eso," Bayley said before turning around and kissing Becky on the cheek. "Let me run this box in there and we'll go OK?" she said happily as she vanished into her hotel room.

Becky stood there with a stupid grin on her face. Pleased that everything seemed to be going smoothly so far. When Bayley returned Becky held out her arm in a sincere attempt at chivalry. "All ready?"

Bayley laughed and slid her arm through Becky's. Putting on her best southern belle accent she said: "Why thank you, ma'am." Then she waggled her eyebrows at Becky and said: "Bet you can't can't do that accent Irish girl."

"I would attempt it if I wanted to look like a fool, but I think I will pass on that tonight." With a wide smile, Becky walked them down to the elevator. "I've got different plans that don't involve you laughing at me."

Bayley made a skeptical sound as she declared: "Like you could ever stop me laughing at you."

"You make a good point. Doesn't mean I can't try and give you fewer reasons." Pressing the button for the elevator to go back down. "Hope you are ready to walk. Should only be a few minutes though."

Bayley blinked at this. "You know…" she said "...as social plans go, NOT a strong start Lynch." she looked down then and said: "Thank god I didn't dress up."

"It will be worth it. I promise." Becky said while giving Bayley her best charming look. "You look great. I wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't said anything."

Bayley struck a few faux fierce poses before theatrically flipping her hair. "So I know that YOU know how much the ambiguity is annoying me. Can I at least get a hint of where we are going? Is this some bizarrely friendly kidnapping?" she said as she looked out the side of the elevator.

Becky snickered. "I can assure you this is no kidnapping. Unless you want it to be?" Pausing for a moment as Bayley gave her an unamused look. "Alright. No kidnapping. Got it. I already dropped the hint anyway. Don't blame me for you not catching it."

Bayley's brow furrowed as she was scanning back through every word she'd exchanged with Becky since their phone call. She'd thought nothing of the brief call at the time, it had just been her friend asking if she wanted to hang out. But not she was wondering if Becky's mysterious 'clue' had been that far back. As she thought she looked over at Becky and scowled saying: "You KNOW that's going to drive me crazy."

"I do." Smirk firmly in place as the elevator opened. "You'll figure it out. I have faith in you."

The elevator ride down was quick and Becky swiftly took them towards the doors leading outside. Sliding forward so that she could hold the door open with one of her usual overly charming smiles.

"Ladies first."

Bayley gave a theatrical inclination of her head and a deep knee bend before proceeding Becky out into the lobby. Then she looked over her shoulder and said: "The problem with that plan is that the person in the lead is the one who doesn't know where she's going."

"No one would ever accuse me of thinking things through too much." Becky quipped as she followed. "Don't worry my lady. I will lead us to our destination." Her voice filled with faux seriousness. "Sir Becky will keep you safe from the common rabble."

Bayley pretended to faint away before speaking in a high pitched trill and saying: "Oh thank you so much my champion!" Then she ruined it by dissolving into giggles and having to lean against Becky as she led the way.

Becky enjoyed having Bayley so close. Her nerves seeming to go away as she and Bayley fell into their old ease.

She steered them carefully through the streets. Going off memory for directions.

"Almost there," Becky said once they were just about to turn the corner. Knowing that once they did Bayley would immediately realize where they were going.

"You know if you'd just pitched this as 'hiking' it would have been more honest," Bayley grumbled, but in a friendly way. Truthfully she was just enjoying spending time with her friend. After the sadness of the funeral it was nice to be able to focus on life again, rather than death.

"Well like any good hike I suppose there needs to be a final destination," Becky answered with a rush of adrenaline as they turned the corner. The old coffee shop they had their first real conversation looming in the distance. "Ta-da!"

" Aye dios mio," Bayley laughed as she saw the sign. She couldn't help it, a big dumb grin spread across her face as she turned to Becky. "You are such a dork you know that?" she said rested her head on Becky's shoulder. Then she brightened and said: "I wonder if it will be Dave again! I'm sure he has so much to NOT talk about with us!"

Becky laughed and let her head tilt to gently sit on top of Bayley's. Enjoying the closeness she had felt deprived of for so long. "I may have called ahead. It's amazing what people are willing to do when you throw some money around."

Bayley giggled. "Oh yeah? What's the VIP section like in a crummy coffee shop? Do they have bottle service? Unlimited mud flavored coffee?" she asked teasingly as they approached the place where their friendship had begun. Bayley was actually really touched by this gesture on Becky's part. It also confirmed something she'd suspected for a long time, that she was a really a sweetheart and MAYBE a hopeless romantic.

The ridiculous suggestions made Becky shake her head. "Why don't you take a look for yourself." Opening the front door and ushering Bayley inside. The interior looking exactly the same as it had last time, complete with no other customers inside. "Dave was kind enough to close the shop early for us." The lights just a tad dimmer than before. Extra light being provided by a single candle that was on each table. Rubbing her palms together as Bayley walked inside and looked around. "It might not be a VIP section but it's something. Payback for everything you've given me." The nerves coming back as she waited for Bayley's reaction.

Bayley gaped around at the dramatic transformation evident in front of her eyes. Then what Becky had just said caught up with her and she frowned. "You don't owe me anything Becky," she said before turning to smile at the candles again. As she looked around she said: "I can't believe you did this for us."

"It wasn't that much really. And I paid people to do it. How about we just sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee. I can guarantee it will be much better this time around. I made sure of it." Becky swept past Bayley and walked back to the same table they had sat at last time. Pulling out a chair and waiting on her guest.

"Thanks," Bayley said happily. She was still smiling but something was nagging at the back of her mind as she sat down. Something about the situation was hitting her oddly, but she couldn't articulate it yet. "Well, I guess I'll take one cup of coffee then," she said brightly.

"Dave's already on it. I texted him while we were walking over." Becky smiled and gestured towards the chair she was still holding onto. "Come on and sit down. Don't make me lose points already."

Bayley sat, looking around the restaurant once more before she made herself smile again and watched as Becky sat down. Thinking that she saw her friend wince she was reminded of something she'd said that night so long ago. "How's the hinge?" she asked, knowing Becky would pick up on the reference.

"Better. After a bit of rest and ice at least." Smiling softly at the reminder. Now that they both were sitting Becky suddenly couldn't figure out what she wanted to say. Every thought that came to her quickly analyzed and found lacking. Her silence stretching on till she just said something. "I'm glad you came." Surprising herself with the burst of honesty.

Bayley frowned at the sudden change in Becky's energy. The fighter seemed to be nervous suddenly, and Bayley was beginning to suspect she might know the reason why. She wasn't sure yet and didn't want to assume because her guess would be...cataclysmic. So, she made forced another smile and said: "So am I, but you weren't so happy with me the first time we came here."

"Well, obviously the circumstances are a bit different," Becky said with a crooked smile.

"I'm no longer 'the enemy'?" Bayley joked, even as her brain worked furiously.

Becky blushed a bit at the reminder of her little outburst back then. "That was not one of my finer moments. I wasn't really in a good mindset. Seems obvious now though. You couldn't be an 'enemy' if you tried."

"What if I I was nice to Alexa in front of you?" Bayley asked lightly, now she was just cracking jokes as a means of trading space for time. She really hoped she was wrong but she thought she now knew what Becky had been thinking in bringing her here.

"I'll call your bluff. There's no way you could last more than thirty seconds before cutting off your own ears." Becky joked back. "Which you shouldn't do by the way. I like them just where they are. Who else would listen to me at two in the morning?"

Bayley decided on a small test. "Is that the kind of question you ask on first dates?" she asked, casually.

"Not usually." Becky winked. "Although it normally doesn't come up in casual conversation."

Bust, Bayley thought. "Ear removal? Really? I talk about it all the time," she said, in a forced cheery tone.

"I'm sure." Becky rolled her eyes. Resting her hand on the table next to Bayley's hand. Not encroaching yet, but rather just being close.

Dave came out with their cups of coffee and placed them down with his customary silence. Barely even giving the two a glance before walking off and disappearing.

"Nice guy." The redhead dryly joked with a wide smile. Her hand sneaking a little bit closer as she tested the waters. Not wanting to overstep with the woman she cared about more than she was willing to admit.

"Yeah, a real charmer…" Bayley said with a smile, though she was very distracted. She'd noticed where Becky's hand was. She swallowed as she realized the situation she was in, and what it meant.

How the hell did this keep happening?

Bayley racked her brain trying to think of some sort of graceful way to escape from what was evidently a date in Becky's eyes. Bayley loved Becky very much but she wasn't IN love with her. But she also knew just how hard it would have been for the Irish woman to arrange all of this, to allow herself to be this vulnerable.

And she knew what would happen if she came up short.

Horrific visions of a relapsing Becky, or worse, danced in Bayley's head. Could she just try the fake text or phone call thing? She did have her phone in her pocket. Or maybe she could...just go on a few dates with the fighter and hope she'd lose interest? But no, she thought, both would not only be unfair to Becky but beyond disrespectful. Becky deserved the truth if she was to get anything at all. But that didn't mean Bayley had any idea how she was going to tell her friend.

"So how are things at the gym?" Bayley asked, subtly sliding her own hand a centimeters away from Becky's.

It was obvious that Bayley was trying to be subtle about it but Becky noticed the small but telling reaction to her movement. She not as subtly pulled her own hand back to her edge of the table. "Uhh… They're good as they can be. Umm… Got some new students. Haven't been able to do much with my knee though. Ruby had to do most of the work for me."

"Good I- I mean that's not good but I'm glad you're staying busy and...and that Ruby is too obviously," Bayley fumbled for words and could just feel the whole evening tilting against her. She sounded like a 14-year-old on her first date.

Bayley's sudden fumbling made Becky's anxiety start to steadily rise. Becky thought everything had been going so well despite a few small fumbles that were to be expected after going so long without having a real date. "You alright?" She asked with a forced light tone even though Becky was scared of what the answer was. A matching forced smile that came out more like a grimace. Had she come on too strong?

Bayley's smile was an act of herculean effort at this moment. She looked around once, her eyes flying from point to point as though seeking an escape route. But, she'd just told herself Becky deserved the truth. Closing her eyes and pursed her lips and counted to three before she asked, without opening them: "Becky...are...are we on a date?"

Of all the potential horrible responses she had pictured this hadn't been one of them. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before her mind finally caught up. "Did you… not think that?"

"I…" Bayley started to say but for once, the woman who made her living with words, couldn't find one. She tried again and still found nothing. She could feel her whole body beginning to tense but she couldn't make herself speak.

Becky realized what the silence met. Pulling both her hands back to her lap and rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs. "Well… That is umm nice to know." Slowly pushing her chair backward. "Certainly saves me from digging myself deeper." Becky joked in an overly cheery tone. Forcing herself to smile and try and act as unaffected as possible. Not wanting the other woman to feel guilty for something outside of her control.

"Becky, it's fine! Really, I just...I just wanted to know so…" Bayley started to say but even as she spoke she knew that things had moved beyond her ability to repair with words.

A tiny flicker of hope that she had misread this situation once again came back at Bayley's words. "Are you alright if this is?" She hesitantly asked.

Bayley's heart spiraled further downward as she realized what she'd done. " Becky...I...I love you but…" she started to say but the idea simply wouldn't find expression on her tongue. Even more infuriatingly she could feel moisture forming at the corner of her eyes.

Just like that, any hope Becky had was gone. It was difficult to do, but she continued to try and act as unaffected as possible. Even though she wanted the floor to somehow swallow her whole so she could vanish from this utterly humiliating moment. "I get it. I get it…" Becky noticed the beginning of tears in Bayley's eyes and felt her heart constrict. Her instincts of self-preservation clashing with the instinct to keep the other woman away from feeling bad. Making her feel guilty on top of everything. "Don't cry. It's not your fault. I get it."

Bayley was feeling like she could lose the battle with her own tears any moment but she reached for Becky's hand saying: "Becky...I'm sorry I just-...you're so great and I-"

Becky felt like laughing even though there was nothing humorous about this. This whole thing feeling like some big prank she had unwittingly played on herself. As soon as Bayley said the word 'great' Becky was standing up. Sending the wooden chair skittering across the floor in her hurry to stand.

She knew what was coming. Bayley was going to show pity and try and let her down softly.

Becky felt exposed like a live electrical wire. Fearful that the longer she stayed near Bayley the more likely it was that she accidentally went off the woman who didn't deserve it. "Obviously not great enough." She mumbled already retreating from the table, "You don't need to explain yourself."

"Becky!" Bayley said as she stood, but she didn't have a fighter's reflexes and she reached for her Becky, the other woman easily avoided her hand. "Becky, please!" Bayley called to the woman's back. First Sasha and now Becky...what was wrong with her?

Becky ignored the pleas and continued on out the front door. Running on autopilot and knowing that staying in there would only mean more pain so it would be best to just avoid. She had kept a relatively normal pace until she was outside where once she cleared the windows of the coffee shop Becky started to run. Not with any particular destination in mind, but just wanting to get far away and find a secluded place to lick her wounds.

Bayley snatched up her coat and tried to catch Becky but by the time she made it out the door all she could see of her friend was a fast retreating mane of red hair. Not caring that there were other people on the street she shouted: "BECKY!"

Becky never looked back.

And this left with Bayley standing in front of a dumpy little coffee shop, with tears running down her cheeks and ashes in her gut. As she stood there, she felt like she had just lost her friend.