Title: Beauty and the Beast

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKora@aol.com or WinterViolet24@aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to WWE and all the people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Summary: [FoleyStacy] Mick Foley didn't leave because he was afraid of Orton, he left because he was afraid of something else or rather, someone else…

Author's Notes: This story is going to jump around a lot with flashbacks but I think overall it will be a real enjoyable fic. All I ask is you give it a chance.

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Chapter Three

Mick unlocked his door and entered; sighing raggedly as he tossed aside his key and trudged inside. He hated hotels. He hated being in Pennsylvania. Actually, he had nothing wrong with the state but at this particular moment he hated it because it was not home. He just wanted to go home.

He had gotten in Orton's face - torn him apart because he couldn't stand another bald-face lie coming out of the impudent youth's mouth but he hadn't even really wanted to do that. Not after what happened with Stacy.

Sure, it had been nice to release all his frustrations on Orton - what with Orton's constant lies, the doubt of his friends and fans hanging on him as well as the situation with Stacy - he had had a lot of frustrations to release.

It was just as he told Orton - he needed hatred in order to fight. And lord knew he felt hate…but more than that, he felt hurt. The part of his mind reserved for writing came up with a poetic phrase he muttered under his breath, "The scars you can't see."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, good line. Maybe he could use it in his next novel. He trudged to the bathroom and decided to overlook the damage he had inflicted upon himself. He clicked the lights on and trudged over to the mirror, pulling aside masses of brown curls to reveal the physician's handiwork.

A neat row of stitches lined above his eyebrow. He counted them out; happy to see he was reaching a record low. Was that a good or a bad thing? He couldn't decide as he walked over to the shower and flicked it on, trying to reach a nice temperature. He'd only been in the ring a few moments but under those hot lights, with all those people - it was hard not to build up a sweat.

A shower would do him good, then some rest. He could decide what to do from there. Maybe some mind-numbing TV would help. There were so many things he didn't want to do that finding things that wouldn't bother him was something of a task. Anything that didn't involve heavy thinking was good. Very good.

For all intents and purposes, he was surprised he was even still walking, existing after everything. He looked into the mirror in front of him, looked into his own eyes…

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December 1, 2003

One of his first acts was to free her. The great thing about doing so, was that it was going to work three-fold. Not only would her freedom be granted but also by 'firing' Test and Stiener, he'd put those bastards in their place and he'd be taking a jab at Bischoff - showing the power-mad General Manager exactly what he looked like to others.

All it had taken was his standing on the ramp and a few well-spoken words into the mike. He had called Stacy to him and she had diligently done so. Once she had been to one side of him, he'd found it hard to continue. It had been so long since he'd been in her presence. She smelled amazing, looked amazing…

But he'd managed to get the words out and then the next thing he knew, Stacy was leaping around him more ecstatic than he'd ever seen her. Her face - it was priceless. Beautiful. Then she was in his arms. He didn't know how she got there but somehow, the next thing he knew, he was cradling her close to him. For someone so tall she was as light as a feather, curling up against him just as soft.

He held her as tightly as possible without hurting her. For one thing, he was scared to death of dropping her and for another - god, he just wanted to hold her. It was bliss. She had her arms around his neck, fingertips toying with the tips of his curly brown hair in a playful manner. She kept looking at him, eyes all aglow with admiration. It was almost too much - he felt as if his heart would give out at any second.

But instead of collapsing to the ramp with her in tow, he merely turned and exited. He managed to release her without a problem but the moment she was out of his grip his arms literally ached with the want of more. He managed to not show a thing though - he'd managed it this long that now he had it down to a science.

After all, she had no idea whatsoever how he felt about her.

But then how could she?

It wasn't like they had ever spent much time together. Surely not enough for him to feel as strongly as he did. But that was just it - he didn't have to spend every waking second with her to know he loved her. He wished he could tell her, wish he could express it - explain the magic of it.

He supposed from an outside view it might appear that he was merely obsessed with her - that he was like one of those salivating fanboys who merely felt they 'loved' her because of her looks but it wasn't that - quite the opposite. It was so much more than that…

Then he realized she'd been talking to him.

Her brown eyes were more alive than they'd been in months, energetic as she continued, "…I can't believe that you did that for me! Oh Mick, thank you, thank you so much - I hate repeating myself but…oh…if only knew what it was like...what I've been going thorough..."

The last part was gasped on a breathy whisper, caught at the tail end as if she realized she had spoke aloud too much. The life was soon clouded over with pain and a glaze of tears. Mick refused to let her get caught up in memories - remembrances of her imprisonment and horrible things she must have done therein.

He reached out and tipped her chin up, daring to touch her so that their eyes met, a loopy grin on his face, "There, there Stacy. I know. Heck, why'dja think I did that? I knew…I mean, anyone with eyes could tell you needed to be set free."

"Rescued." She returned just as softly, eyes warm again with admiration, "Rescued is the better term. You saved me. Knight in shining armor…"

"Pfft. It was nothing." He returned, and noted his fingertips still rested on her chin. He pulled away and shook his hand as if it were burned, head moving from side to side to try and wash out what she was saying - even the sight of her. This night was just too much.

But she did not notice, instead she gasped again, "How can you say that…what you did," she shook her own head now, voice low, "It was everything. The nicest thing anybody's ever done for me."

Mick scratched the back of his head, cheeks red, "It was nothing."

"So modest," she giggled, lips screwing to one side in a tiny, hidden smile, eyes twinkling. She reached a hand forward and tousled his hair, giggling. Mick couldn't help but laugh himself, even if he felt the pain of regret.

This was the Stacy he remembered - the Stacy he wanted her to be forever. The happy-go lucky, unintentionally-flirting-with-him Stacy. She was just being herself. Charming. But oh, if only she knew how her innocent touches affected him. But he pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time for his selfish, inner turmoil. Now was the time for her - for celebration.

He managed to beam, actually beam, at her as he asked, "So what do you plan to do now with your freedom?"

"Oh my! I never thought of that, good question," she giggled, fingers still toying with his hair as she tossed one arm around his shoulder and walked with him down the arena's backstage hallways.

She put a thoughtful finger to her lips, "I suppose I shall have to become someone else's valet. I mean…that's what I'm good at. Management. I don't quite have the build to be as physical as the other girls. I envy Lita and Trish sometimes, you know. Being able to get in there and sacrifice their bodies - that and the curves."

"Curves?"

"Sure, Lita and Trish are whole. Curvy. Not a tall, thin stick. I'm like Jack Skellington over here."

"Hey now - don't say that. You're…" Mick paused, not sure how to even begin to explain to Stacy how amazing she was. It'd take him all night. He settled for shortening it as best he could, "You're beautiful and amazing and funny and smart and gorgeous and - and - and I'm rambling."

"No, it's very sweet." Stacy returned in a whisper and he could have sworn he saw pink flash on her cheeks but he knew he must have imagined it. There was no way he could have gotten that lucky. And why would she blush at anything he said? Thousands of guys probably told her she was beautiful…

Why would what he said make a difference?

He sighed and decided to be a little honest, "I wish I could…impress to you how wonderful you are. How - how no other girl on the roster can compare. But…I mean, I may be a writer but when it comes to real life and - and to speaking aloud I tend to come up short, ya know? I mean…I'm not good at explaining myself well."

"I think you do just beautifully," Stacy assured and stopped him shortly, turning him so she could give him a big, warm, strong hug.

Mick returned the embrace awkwardly, scared he'd clutch her tightly to him again as he had earlier when he'd held her in his arms. He wouldn't have an excuse this time for squeezing her so tightly to him. Hell, he could remember now that before putting her down he'd given her an extra squeeze close to him for good measure - as if trying to absorb the feeling, treasuring the last, sweet little bit of it. Her in his arms…

And now she was hugging him and he was trying ever so hard to return it lightly. Gentle pats to her back. He couldn't overwhelm her. Couldn't crush her to him as he desired to. Besides, this was more than good enough. Hell, anything she gave him was more than good enough. He was like a hungry little bird at her feet. Any size bread crumbs would do, so long as he got to eat.

She drew away, face more lovely than the sun first rising in the sky as she purred, "I'm so glad you're back."

The implication of what she said hit him like a first to the face. Each word a knuckle grazing his heart. He sighed, the sound actually conveying how deeply sad her comment had just made him. Realization skittered to his mind, bringing everything to a halt.

His voice came out sheepish but with a husky undertone that came from her earlier touches or maybe simply the euphoria of being in her presence, "Stacy, I didn't plan on…"

Her eyes widened, slight pout in place, "You are staying, aren't you? I mean, I had hoped…"

Her bottom lip shook just a little and just like that he folded like a house of cards. Shaking his head and offering a goofy, classic Mick Foley grin, ''Course I'm staying, Stacy. Lots of stuff to still do around here, right?"

She beamed, hugging him a second time, "You bet!"

They began walking again and Mick troubled over in his mind what he had just said. What he was committing himself to. Not taking notice of his mental struggle, Stacy began chirping happily again, "You asked what I was going to do now that I'm free and I've got one good idea all ready. I want to watch movies."

"Movies?" This unexpected change of topic caused a stop to the swelling tide of unanswered questions and thoughts in his brain.

"Yeah - and I want to pig out. On popcorn and candy. Test and Steiner would never let me do much of anything you know, other than…" Again a swell of pain crossed her face but just as quickly she squashed it, continuing doggedly, "So I want a movie party. You know, like you'd have in seventh grade."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Well I mean, sure, it's not an impacting 'what am I going to do now' thing. I mentioned becoming someone else's valet and I mean that but - but I can't think of it right now. I'm scared of-" she trailed off, voice quiet.

He waited patiently for her to continue but she chose not to, instead pushing several fingers to her lower eyelids, obviously to steam the possible flow of tears, when she spoke her voice was surprisingly deep, "Doesn't matter. Focus on the positives. Focus on now. Freedom. And fun. And movies."

She looked at him, glittering brighter than any star, blinding him with her intensity, "So how about it? We should celebrate. Me and you. Want to watch movies with me?"

If Mick had been drinking anything at the time he either would have spit it out or choked to death. He looked at her, unable to hold back the utter bowled over expression on his face, "You - you want to watch a movie with - with me?"

"Well yeah, that's what I just said, wasn't it?" She asked with mock nastiness, hands on her hips, then folding across her front, head moving from side to side, lips pursed up like she'd just bit into a lemon.

The act swiftly dissolved into silly, light-hearted giggles as she punched his arm and then filtered her fingers thought his hair again, "Come on, the least you can do after all you've done is celebrate my freedom with me. We can watch my alter-ego in 'Nightmare Before Christmas'."

"Alter-"

"Jack Skelington."

"Hey now, I told you, you're not - not some Tim Burton stick figure. I mean if you go off that you can say I'm like - like the Penguin from 'Batman'. I mean if we're going off Tim Burton films-"

"Hey! You're not the Penguin!"

"I was trying to think of a character he's directed that's…'rotund'. "

"You're not - not," she gasped but Mick held up a hand, "No point arguing there, Stacy. I know I'm not Mr. Universe. Well…I'm big enough to BE the universe I supposed but-"

"Oh!" she punched his arm again, "You're such a girl! You look fine. You're body is-"

"Spare me, please." Mick muttered, looking away, a wash of loathing filling himself. Normally he wasn't so low on himself but every now and then his self-esteem did take a dive. This was one of those times.

Stacy was not to be deterred though, "Look, I'm not going to argue with you. You're going to watch movies with me, spend time with me and celebrate the freedom you brought about. Period. I command you!"

"You command me?" Mick laughed dryly.

"Yeah!" She chirped, giggling, knowing she was being silly as she hugged him again, "Now come on. How about it?"

"We've got to finish up the show first you know, I've got to get Bischoff-"

"Hell yeah, you do!" Stacy crowed in approval, clapping her hands, "You go do that and after the show tonight-"

"All right, all right. Movies, jeez, lady - you're a pain in the neck!" Mick chuckled at his jest but deep inside he was overflowing with joy. Stacy had asked to spend time with him. Celebrate with him. Be with him. Him and her. They were going to - be together. Hang out. Spend more than ten minutes together.

He was seconds away from asking someone to pinch him.

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The mirror before Mick's eyes became coated in a layer of steam, fogging out. He drew back from it and from memories. He'd been so flippin' happy then, hadn't he? He could even remember their 'date', as it were.

It had all been innocent fun. A night of movies and popcorn. Nothing had even happened. There had been the usual hair tousling and hugging but it wasn't like she had cuddle up next to him during the movies or fallen asleep on his shoulder. He hadn't even put his arm around her. Instead they'd watched the films and talked and - it had been fantastic.

He didn't need to touch her to have an over the top, amazing time. Just being with her was enough. But it had gone from there, hadn't it? After that night she'd joked that he was her 'new little toy'.

She'd wanted to spend more time around him. Danced around his feet like an overeager puppy begging for play and he'd been more than willing…

He told himself it was just friendship. That was what she really needed. That was all he was going to offer, all he should offer...

But it became more than that, didn't it, Mick? His thoughts hissed at him. You couldn't just be her friend. No, no - you had to be just like everyone else. Every other man who's come in and out of her life.

He wanted to clamp his hands over his ears, he wanted to shut the sound of his thoughts out but how could he when they were right? He had wanted - so desperately - to be better than that. To be something - someone else - to Stacy. He wanted to play the role of a friend since she hungered - no, needed - that so desperately but instead he'd let himself become overwhelmed with his own selfish needs and wants.

The movies hadn't been the last of their 'dates'. There had been another time…

He shuddered, disgusted with himself and quickly stripped his clothes. Climbing into the shower and drawing the curtain behind him. Trying to wash away all thought and memory.