Her Head v. Her Heart
A/N: I totally wasn't going to start this story until I had finished The Emancipation, but I wanted to get it out there and see what y'all thought. This story is for anyone who read my other story and was disappointed by the twist. If you haven't read it - I don't want to give anything away. If you have - you know what I'm talking about. As always, I don't own 'em, or much else for that matter. Enjoy. And send reviews - I love them.
She could feel his eyes on her from across the room. It was the same heavy gaze he had always given her before – before she had left him with no explanation and no apology. Before she had made up some bull shit excuse about needing to figure out what she wanted for herself. Before she walked away from his bed and straight into the arms of someone else.
He knew that she knew he was watching her. He could see her sneak a peak every few minutes, smiling guiltily as she wove her arm tighter through the man at her side's. He knew that he shouldn't care about her anymore, not after the way she had broken his heart without so much as a "let's be friends." He knew that he shouldn't be watching, but he couldn't help it.
Being in this place, with all of them, made him think of that night – their first night. It took him back to the night that started all of his dreams and nightmares. The greatest, and worst, night of his life.
June, 2004
"You are so totally blind," Lita shrieked as Trish tapped two fingernails on the top of the bar table.
It was unusual for a large group of the RAW wrestlers to hang out together after a house show. But since they had the following four days off, Trish had decided it was time to party. She had invited Lita, Matt, and Jericho. Chris invited Stacy to hang out. Stacy, who everyone knew was crushed out on the Legend Killer, in turn, invited Randy. He had invited Evolution. Ric begged out for some reason or another, but Dave and Hunter had agreed to tag along.
Batista wasn't known for smiling much, but watching the three girls around the table argue over some code or language that none of the guys understood, was entertaining, to say the least. And it was better than just sitting and watching some fake-assed stripped wriggle all over him for fifty bucks.
"Li, he's totally not a three," Trish insisted, draining her second beer bottle and motioning for the waitress to bring another. When the girl, who appeared to be in her early twenties, with long, blonde hair and a tight tee shirt sat the bottle on the table, Trish winked at her. "She's more "three" material than he was," she informed her friend.
Clearing his throat, Matt leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes toward Hunter, who was visibly confused. "Fine, I'll ask," he said, draping one arm across the back of his girlfriend's chair. "Lita, dear?" She turned her eyes to him and leaned her elbows on the table. "What the hell is going on?"
Stacy smiled at the other women, Trish winked, and Lita sighed. "We have a rating system," she admitted reluctantly. "But if we tell you guys about it, the secret's totally out of the bag and I don't know if we can use it anymore," she bit her lip and looked to the girls. "What do you think?"
"You totally can't throw out something like "we got a rating system" and then not tell us," Randy exclaimed, leaning back in his own chair and drinking from his beer bottle. He cast his blue eyes at Stacy and winked. "Come on, baby. You know you want to tell me."
Throwing a pathetic "save me" look at Trish, Stacy withered. She could never say "no" to Randy, and he knew it. "It's not like they don't do the same thing," she shrugged.
Trish rolled her eyes and looked each of the men in the eye. "Okay, but there's one rule," she held up a finger. "When we tell you what the system is, no one is allowed to ask where they fall within it." She looked at them each again. "Understand?"
All of the men nodded, though no one actually believed that they would hold up their end of the bargain. "Alright," Trish said, leaning forward on her elbows. "The girls and I, we have a lot of down time on the road, so we talk about a lot of shit," she started. "And one day, we decided that we needed a ratings system – like you guys use the whole 1 – 10 thing, right?"
"I have never rated a girl 1 – 10 in my life," Jericho defended, holding up a hand for her to stop with that accusation right away.
"What the fuck ever, Jericho," Lita accused. "You sat on our couch a week ago and called Katie Holmes a fuckin' nine and a half," she pointed.
He seemed to strain to remember and then smiled. "Oh, yeah."
With another roll of her eyes, Trish spoke again. "So, we decided we didn't need ten – just four. Every person on the face of the planet, regardless of sex, race, religion, nationality, or orientation fits into one of four categories." She spoke with the authority of an expert, as though she was daring any of them to challenge her. "We call 'em the four "L"s."
"Well?" Hunter asked as Trish turned her eyes to him. "What are the categories?"
Lita cleared her throat and grinned madly as she leaned further forward. "The first one is "laughable." As in the kind of person you would never, EVER, in your worst nightmares, want to sleep with. No sexual attraction whatsoever."
"That's so mean," Matt laughed.
"It has nothing to do with personality. It doesn't mean their bad people," Stacy added. "I mean, they could be really great friends, but you just don't wanna wake up hung over and naked with them," she explained. When they all looked at her, she cleared her throat and took a drink of the beer Randy had just bought her. "The second category is "likeable," mostly because we couldn't think of a better name for it," she said after swallowing her drink.
"Likeable? That doesn't sound so bad," Jericho interjected.
Trish shook her head. "It's not bad. It just means they're the kind of people that, while not repulsive, you're not picturing naked all damn day," she answered. "They're the people that don't make you want to vomit on impact," she added, throwing a knowing look to Stacy and Lita, who just laughed.
"Wait a minute – who are you guys thinking about?" Matt asked immediately. He had been around the three of them enough to know when there was an in-joke he wasn't getting.
Lita just shook her head and waved her hand, lowering it to his thigh. "The third category is "layable" or the people you'd definitely sleep with if you had the chance, and some protection," she winked at Matt, who just beamed at the rest of the table.
"Oh, that's definitely me," Jericho said proudly, tipping the waitress as she brought another drink. "And you, too, Precious," he winked at her as she walked away, confused.
"So what else is left?" Randy asked Stacy. "I mean, you got the people you wouldn't sleep with, the people you would if you were drunk or somethin', and the people that you would definitely bang. What's the fourth category?"
She blushed wildly and looked at the other girls to save her. But all she got were two wide-eyed looks of mock innocence. "I don't remember, Lita," Trish said.
"Hmmm," Lita squinted as she strained her memory. "Must have slipped my mind, too, Trish. Stace, help us out here," she wiggled her eyebrow and watched as Stacy stared at the table.
"Lickable," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that, Stace?" Hunter asked, leaning across Orton to hear her better. "I didn't catch that."
She looked into his eyes and rolled her eyes. "It's lickable, okay? The fourth category is lickable."
Randy reached under the table and squeezed her knee, leaning his shoulder close to hers. "What's "lickable" mean, Stace?" he whispered in her ear.
She blushed even deeper as Trish finally took pity on her. "Lickable are those people that make you all tingly on sight."
"Kane makes me tingly on sight," Matt had breathed, drawing shocked looks from Lita and Stacey. "He scares me," he admitted and then his eyes grew wide. "But that's not what you meant, is it?"
Lita laughed out loud and then leaned back in her chair. "They're the guys, or girls, I guess, that make you think all those dirty thoughts you don't want anyone to know you think?" she suggested to the group. Every guy at the table got all cloudy-eyed for a moment, imagining all the "lickables" that they could.
"Alright," Trish sighed. "Before the chairs get all sticky, maybe we should change the subject," she suggested.
"Awe, no," Matt stated firmly, his hand on Lita's back. "Which category am I in, baby?" he asked her.
Lita shook her head in defiance. "Did you not sit right here, Matt Hardy, and agree, with everyone else, not to ask that very question before we ever started this mess?" He shrugged and let his eyes droop, looking at her through long lashes. "Not the puppy dog eyes." She turned to Trish for help.
She cleared her throat and sat back. She loved her friends, but watching them crumble under the power of the men in their lives was funny to her. Not for the first time, she thanked the heavens that she wasn't so weak. "Anyway, we got Badd Blood comin' up soon," she tried to change the subject.
"Not gonna happen, Stratus," Jericho shook his head and sat his beer bottle on the table. With his arms crossed over his chest, he dared her to tell him "no." She just raised her eyebrow. "You knew full well that everyone was going to want to know where they fit in your little rating system. Spill," he commanded.
Trish rolled her eyes and then smiled, nodding her head toward him slightly. "Fine," she responded, leaning her shoulder toward Lita. "Lita, baby, I think you are totally, completely lickable," she growled as Lita moved toward her with the same deviant look on her face.
"That's not what I meant," Jericho pouted as the two girls laughed and moved apart.
"Jericho, ya dick head," Hunter chided, throwing a peanut at him from the bowl in the center of the table. "Ladies," he pointed to Trish and Lita, "Feel free to continue what you were doing before you were so rudely interrupted by Y2Jack Off here," he encouraged.
But the peanut missed its mark, hitting Stacy instead. She picked it off of her tee shirt and tossed it back before turning to her friends. "What's it gonna hurt?" she asked.
Trish shrugged. "Alright, fine. But it's only fair to warn you that we hardly ever agree on anything," she explained. "I mean, the three of us have totally different tastes, so don't get all pissy if one of us didn't think you're the shit or whatever."
All the men agreed as Lita went first. "Well, Matty, you know I think you're totally lickable, baby," she winked as he leaned over and kissed her quickly. "Chris, you're layable, totally. Randy, you're a little too GQ meets Abercrombie for me, but I'd have to put you in the layable category as well – can't deny a guy with those tats, can I?" He winked in appreciation as she turned her attention to the other two Evolution members at the end of the table. "Hunter, when you're hair was longer and you were sportin' DX attitude, you were totally lickable to me. You've fallen, my friend," she shook her head sadly, "into the realm of the layable, as well." Her eyes fell on Batista, who had yet to speak during most of the evening's proceedings. "Dave, we argue over you more than anyone on the roster," she sighed.
He wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not, but he noted that all three girls were nodding their heads in agreement. He could see Orton and Hardy wriggle uncomfortably as the women they were with seemed torn over the big man at the head of the table. "And?" he finally asked.
"I hate to say it, man, because you're one of my favorite people to have around," she cringed and bit her bottom lip. "But I can't really make you layable or lickable because I'm afraid you'd tear me in half if you gave it to me half as rough as I like it," she admitted. He smiled as she told him he had to be likable for her.
Stacy watched as all eyes turned to her. "Why do I have to go next?" she asked with a pout. Randy's hand found it's way to her back and she smiled at him. "You are so lickable and you know it, so don't even give me that look," she warned. He smiled as Hunter smacked his back in congratulations. "Unlike my friend here," she pointed her thumb toward Lita, "I find men in nice suits far more attractive than rock stars. So Hunter and Dave, you guys are totally layable to me." Turning to her left, she grinned at Chris, who was leaning toward her in anticipation. "You're layable, too," she conceded with a roll of her eyes. "Matt," she shrugged and raised her eyebrow. "You're smaller than the guys I usually go for, ya know? But I wouldn't rule anything out – you've got that undeniable attitude that makes all girls kinda weak in the knees. I guess you're layable, too," she finally shrugged.
"Thanks, Stace," Matt accepted her compliment. "But, for the record, it's known as Mattitude," he corrected.
Lita grabbed a peanut from the bowl in front of them and threw it at her boyfriend. "You're a jack ass," she laughed as he tossed the offending nut back at her.
Trish watched all of the men around the table and thought about her answers. She wasn't as sweet as the other two. She knew for a fact that Stacy found Matt Hardy anything but layable. And she knew that Lita was repulsed by Orton's frat boy appearance. She wasn't sure she could lie, just to spare their feelings.
"What about you, Stratus?" Jericho asked finally.
Trish shrugged as Randy shot her that million dollar grin. "Trish'll lick anything that moves," he teased her. She stuck her tongue out, and then seemed to realize, along with the rest of the table, that her gesture only proved his point.
She was saved from having to say anything as the waitress returned to the table and informed them that it was last call and they needed to start heading out for the night.
Dave watched Trish now, a year later, as she snuggled close to Cena at the table of the same bar. That night, after they had all gone back to the hotel, she had caught an elevator with him and informed him that, out of everyone at the table, he was the only one she found remotely lickable. She went into detail about how she had named the category after him, after seeing the tattoo on his back for the first time.
They had gone back to his room, and it had been the start of something beautiful. At least, it had been for him. Until she broke his heart and then left him to pick up the pieces. He didn't want to pine for her, to spend nights in restless sleep, thinking about how he hadn't been good enough for the woman he thought he was going to spend his life with, but it seemed out of his control. He could put on the stoic face, even give her a smile when they passed in the halls of the arena or hotel of the moment. But inside, it hurt him like hell to watch her with anyone else. Inside, the animal was rattling the bars of its cage, and he was afraid what would happen once that animal was unleashed.