"Oh, René, you look lovely this morning!"
Slowly opening an eye to find a somewhat blurry Sylvan looking down at him, René briefly wondered what drugs his tag team partner had taken that morning. He was far too cheerful.
"What?"
Sylvan tapped the corner of his left eye and cheekily smiled. Whatever it meant, it didn't sound good.
A few minutes later, René's jaw was on the floor, a finger almost absently stroking the corner of his left eye. It was red and swollen and the tell-tale signs of a bruise were beginning to make their presence felt. It hurt a little when he touched it.
No amount of make-up was going to hide the shiner when it emerged.
"Damn those Americans," René muttered under his breath, turning away from the mirror, adjusting the towel wrapped around his waist before sitting on the edge of his bed, deciding on his plan of attack for the day.
The first thing was to get the lingerie returned to its rightful owner, apart from his 'insurance policy'. He had no use for it, after all. After that, he would get himself some breakfast.
Arrogantly telling a staff member that he wished to speak to someone in the hotel hierarchy, René looked at the women entering and leaving the lobby and felt his gaze being drawn to two women, probably younger than himself.
It appeared that they looked somewhat similar with their dark hair and seemingly flawless skin, something that was confirmed moments later when he could clearly see their faces.
Identical twins.
How lovely.
Whoever they were, they definitely had a foreign air about them. Definitely not American and probably not Canadian. European maybe?
René looked them up and down as they left the lobby, talking about shopping and doing the usual touristy things, his eyes lingering on their breasts, somewhat racy pictures racing through his mind. They had been speaking in French.
Finally, a senior hotel staff member walked up to René and apologised profusely to him about the clothing mistakenly delivered to his room. As it happened, the person who had his wrestling attire had already been in contact with them about it and plans were in place to exchange the goods.
Waving the manager off with a flick of his hand, René gingerly touched the corner of his left eye before heading out of the hotel, mainly to keep away from Sylvan and to see if he could find the twins.
Several people threw anti-France sentiments in his direction but René shrugged it off. They didn't understand the French people. They didn't understand anything if it wasn't American. They hated things that hated them. That wasn't new.
Two hours later, René returned to his hotel room to find the curtains pulled and the lights off. Sighing wearily, he walked into the bathroom to check his eye and, a few seconds later, felt someone's fingers gently caress his neck.
He turned around and glared at Sylvan, hand in the air, ready to slap him.
"Thought that would get you going. Looks like your eye's getting worse."
"Tell me something I don't know!"
"Your bed. Look at it."
Pushing Sylvan out of the way, René re-entered the main part of the hotel room and found his La Résistance attire gracing his bed.
His tights, his beret, his robe … yes, it was all there. Complete with a note. Had Sylvan read it? Did he even know it was there?
"They delivered. Surprising."
"Why surprising?"
"This is America, after all. I had to take time out of my busy schedule to get onto them about my missing attire. I didn't expect to get it back this soon."
His fingers still grasped the note and he secretly wanted Sylvan to leave so he could read it in private.
"Then you disappeared on me for a while. Where were you, hmm?"
The cheeky grin complete with dimples was on Sylvan's face and René ached to slap it off.
"I needed to get out of here. I needed to … clear my head."
Sylvan knew René was lying. His cheeky smile changed to a cocky one and he appeared to be winking.
"A woman, hmm? The owner of the bra, perhaps?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
René decided 'to hell with it' and pulled out the note, waving it in front of Sylvan's face.
"Oooooh, a love letter!"
"Hardly."
René opened it and gazed at the girlish handwriting before paying attention to what the handwriting said.
"I ended up with your wrestling attire instead of my lingerie. I folded it neater than the hotel staff, so hopefully, that will please you. If anything is still missing, you'll let me know somehow."
Folding the note before placing it in a pocket, René smirked and made a quick decision.
"It was from her."
"The bra owner?"
René nodded. He wasn't going to reveal her name to Sylvan. He wouldn't reveal her name to him until he was good and ready. He smiled arrogantly at Sylvan.
"I'll find out what her name is, seeing that you won't tell me. I'll find out who she is. I'll find out if she's good enough for you." The cocky look on Sylvan's face disappeared and was replaced by one looking equally as arrogant as the one on René's face.
"Go for it. It's no skin off my nose."
Sylvan, to René's surprise, tapped René's nose.
"I will. Thank you for the challenge, René. Thank you."
René watched as Sylvan left the room, intending to slam the door but failing miserably. He screwed up his face as he wondered why Sylvan had decided to interfere in his life. He was 19. Old enough to know what he wanted … and what he wanted now was to meet this mystery woman. Maybe ringside tickets to Raw would be the sweetener …
With that in mind, he pulled out a pen and paper, placing the pen in his mouth as he thought about what to write in the note, then smiling as the perfect note formed itself in his head. He put pen to paper and began to write …

A/N: Many thank you's go to everyone who has reviewed this story so far - I really appreciate it! If you have any suggestions as to what should happen in the fic, feel free to let me know! And I will put you out of your misery regarding the mystery woman soon ... hopefully!