Chapter XIV: It Has to Be Me

All RAW employees were given a week and a half off for Christmas, except for the poor technical crew that had to throw in clips from the last episode to round out the two hour segment that would air in the live show's place. Batista walking out on Cheryl had put her in such a funk that she had done little of her Christmas shopping. In a frenzy, she finished up Christmas Eve morning and arrived at her parents that afternoon, not long before Craig and Nicole. The brunette was now sporting a two-carat diamond on her left hand and everyone kept their comments to themselves, hoping that this girl really was the one after being given that rock. Nicole, an only child, was spending Christmas with them because her parents were on a cruise in the Mediterranean, a gift from their daughter.

The five of them gathered around the television, eggnog in hand, to watch A Christmas Story. Cheryl tried to pay attention to the movie but she kept rolling Shawn Michaels' words over and over in her mind, just as she had done the past few days. Truth of what he said was finally sinking in. There was something she had to do and she needed the support of part of her family but it would wait until the next day since they had all indulged in more eggnog than was necessary.

Even though she was well past the childish excitement, Cheryl woke early Christmas morning but with a heavy mind. The family, including Nicole who was going to be official kin in the summer, gathered around the tree to open presents. After a small breakfast, they drove to her grandparents' home for more gifts and a late, large lunch. The Christmas meal almost rivaled Thanksgiving dinner.

When her parents were napping, Cheryl sidled up to Craig. "I need to ask a favor of you. I know Nicole is here but I don't want to wake up Mom and I don't want to bother her with this either."

"What is it?" her brother asking, furrowing his brow in concern. She explained what she needed and Craig nodded in agreement. He pulled Nicole aside and apologized for leaving her alone with his grandparents but the brunette said it was alright and that it gave her more time to get to know the couple.

Cheryl drove, feeling it was more of her willpower to get done what she had to do. Craig offered to come with her but she shook her head and slid out of the car. The cold wind pushed the woman to her destination. She had stood in this place only twice: once for the interment and once to approve the erected headstone. The pain had been so deep the second time that she refused to go again so as to block out the grief from seeing the plot that contained the remains of who had once been the center of her universe. She approached on shaky legs and then dropped down to the cold, green grass that now covered what she remembered to be ugly, brown dirt. The widow had expected to fall apart the second she saw the grave but a peace began to envelope her as she took deep, calming breaths and focused on the headstone.

The stone was a dusty rose, a color she chose because it was different but really because his mother protested. The letters were rounded, proclaiming the bare facts of his life. She ran her fingers over his name and then the inscription: How shall I hold my soul, that it may not be touching yours?(1) The verse had been chosen, not because that was the poem he had quoted to her when he had proposed or when they had married, but because that described his life. It was impossible for his soul not to touch whomever he met.

She righted the poinsettias that had fallen over, apparently put there by one his family members. The bouquet of carnations and alstroemeria that she had brought were placed beside the red ones and then she carefully unwrapped the package hidden in her coat pocket. They had had the shotglass bearing their names specially made on their honeymoon, an extremely lazy week on a resort in Mexico. Rearranging the flowers and shotglass several times, she finally let her hands drop to her lap. "Pierce," she whispered, trying her voice. Then the words began to tumble out. "I'm so sorry I left you here and never came to see you. But you left me too." She sniffled and took a deep breath. "I wanted to blame you for not listening to me and going on into the club, but how could you have known? How could anyone have known? I did what you told me. I kept living. I wrestle for the WWE now but I'm sure you know that. Just like I'm sure you know that I've met someone. I love him, baby," she said, her eyes tearing up as she rubbed her hand across the grass, "but it doesn't mean that I don't love you. I couldn't give myself to him because I couldn't let you go. I came to tell you—"

She stopped as she started to choke on her words, continuing through shuddering breaths. "I came to tell you that I'm letting you go. If I'm to keep living, I have to tell you 'goodbye' and take a chance with Dave. I know you understand, baby. I will always love you but I have to say 'goodbye.'" She ran her hand across the grass one more time, lightly grazed his name on the stone with her fingertips, and rose to turn her back on the grave.

A breeze that, only in her imagination, felt warmer than the wind that had pushed her to the grave ruffled her hair as she returned to the car. She put a hand to her heart and the sobs slowly began. Craig climbed out of the vehicle to meet her and pulled her to his chest. When the tears no longer blurred her vision, she pulled away from her older brother and whispered, "I'm ready to go." He helped her into the car and she left Pierce to finally rest in peace as she went in search of her own peace.

Cheryl rose early in the morning as usual but forwent her routine jog on the beach and headed straight for the mainland before the tourists came out. She stared at the gray building for several minutes to remind herself of why she was truly here before finally climbing out of her car and walking into the complex with a purposeful stride.

The redhead gathered the necessary forms and settled into a plastic chair and began to complete them. Once done, she took a number, knowing she wouldn't have long to wait since fewer people were in the office than normal, which were mostly Latinos. A woman called her number and she settled into one of the booths and handed the papers over with a smile. "I'll need an extra copy of that first one, please."

When all the signatures were in place, Cheryl walked next door to the post office, which was now buzzing with people. Finding the right envelope, she slipped one of the copies inside with no note, sealed it, and addressed it before finding a place in line. Humming a tune from the drive that morning, she slapped the envelope down on the counter. "I need this sent overnight, please. How much will that be?"

Twenty-six hours later, Dave Batista signed his name to accept the white and orange envelope. He had seen the delivery person pull as up as he sipped hot coffee and stared out the window at the snowflakes beginning to fall. He wished he could have Cheryl in his arms, wrapped up in a blanket by the window while a fire roared in the fire place. It was one of the moments he regretted every word he had said to her well over a month ago. Everything had come out the wrong way and he wondered if maybe he should try talking to her again. As much as he wanted her, he wouldn't take her back with her husband but, at least, an apology for the way he had said things might make them working together bearable.

Noticing the return address and hoping for the best, he eagerly slit the top of the envelope and a single sheet of paper slid out. He shook his head in shock and slipped down to the couch to take in what the form now meant for them. He stared at the blanks that she had filled in with her neat print, officially changing her name from Cheryl Leigh Ellis back to Cheryl Inez Leigh.

Cheryl was putting the finishing touches on her perfectly applied make-up and carefully arranged curls when her cellphone rang. "Hello?"

"What's your mother's cure for morning sickness?" Nidia asked with a groan.

"Sucking on salted apples. Did you lose the directions for pickling them?"

"I can't find them," the woman on the line whined.

"It's not morning. Are you okay?"

"It's been going on all day today. Can I give you some advice, chica? Don't get pregnant," Nidia moaned.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I thought I put the directions in the card with your painting. Did you check the envelope?" Cheryl asked, stepping out of the bathroom and reaching for her wrap and purse in the closet.

"No," she sighed. "I'm taking you with me to check." There was a lot of thumping and rattling around as Nidia continued to talk. "I put the painting in the livingroom above the TV where nobody can miss it. I know I've said it before, but it's so good!"

"You didn't have to do that," Cheryl replied, abashedly. It was one of her best but, of course, she was the type of person to think all of her work was average. On her end, only her parents and Craig had seen the portrait she had painted of Nidia and Eric in the gazebo on their wedding day. As family should do, they praised her work.

"So, what are you getting into tonight? Any kind of celebration?" the brunette asked, followed by some more thumping.

"I hope so," Cheryl answered, checking through her purse for all she needed for a possible night on the town.

"Sounds promising…Ooo, I found it! Thank god! What would I do without you?"

"Find another recipe that would work?" the redhead offered.

Nidia grunted and then said, "So, wha'cha got going on that's promising?"

"I'm going to throw myself at Dave's mercy to get you to stop pestering me."

"I'm sure getting me off your back isn't exactly why you're going to. It's more like getting it on with—"

"Nidia!" Cheryl exclaimed and then sighed. "I miss him so much. I'll burst if I don't talk to him, if I don't kiss him again, if he never touches me again…"

"Quit talking to me and go get him, tiger! Best of luck," the brunette laughed, obviously feeling better from their conversation, and hung up before Cheryl could protest.

"You look fantastic," Lita called with a whistle as Cheryl clapped her cellphone shut and emerged from the small hallway.

The other woman twirled around in her clingy blue dress that revealed enough skin to leave little to the imagination. "I'm going to make up my stupidity to Dave, start the new year out on the right foot."

"I heard. I hope you enjoy," Lita said with a wink. "I won't stay up."

Cheryl laughed as she headed out the door. On her way to Dave's room, the nervousness set in and she took a deep breath and rubbed her sweaty palms across her dress. She stopped to check her appearance in a mirror in the hallway when she saw the reflection of a couple she didn't quite expect pass by. Quickly turning around, the redhead watched Edge and Leila turn the corner, completely absorbed in each other. When…how… she thought, pointing at the empty corridor and then putting a finger to her lips in thought. Shaking it off, she knocked on Dave's door.

"Hi," she breathed out when Dave answered.

"Miss Leigh," he said with a nod, gesturing for her to come in and trying to hide the look of surprise on his face at her appearance.

"You got my package," she exclaimed with a smile, trying hard to refrain from clapping her hands together. Her worries about his reaction to her after mailing him the name change starting to dissipate.

"Yeah," he replied, shutting the door behind her.

"Randy around?" she asked, glancing through the room.

"No, he'll get in tomorrow morning. I've not been here long," he replied, gesturing towards the black pants and maroon dress shirt he still wore even though his bare toes peeked out from under the hem of his pants.

"I can come back later. Let you shower…"

"No, stay."

"In that case," she said, taking a few steps toward him, "I love you." He blinked at her, savoring the words, and she closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you," she whispered again.

A corner of his mouth turned up. "I hoped so. After I got your package, I hoped that's what it meant."

"You were right, all of it," Cheryl began to explain, caressing his cheek. "I set things straight and I think you should know." She explained her Christmas trip and ended with, "I'm so sorry, for what I did, for what I've said."

"I'm sorry, too. I said some things I shouldn't have and—"

"That's not true. I needed to hear all of—"

"Just listen to me," Dave interrupted, placing both his hands on the sides of her face. "I accused you of some things that were uncalled for and said a few more things about someone in particular that I don't even know and I was too stupid to apologize. I thought I was so right that I didn't need to apologize."

"That's what took me so long. I thought everything you said was completely wrong but I was wrong…well, except for the ring. It was a gift from my mother, it wasn't his."

Dave slightly blushed with embarrassment and loudly exhaled. "Wrong or right, it's all okay now," he said and leaned down for a kiss. "I love you too," he said when they pulled apart.

"I had still hoped so," she said and laughed against his chest but then looked back up at him. "You smell like the airport. Why don't you get a shower? I can wait."

"Wait for what?" he asked, heading for the bathroom.

"You. It is New Year's Eve. You're supposed to be with the one you love on New Year's Eve," she lightly replied. "Have you had supper?"

"Yeah, I stopped right before I got to the hotel," he answered through the cracked bathroom door and turned on the shower.

"If you want, we can go out and celebrate the New Year or whatever," she suggested, however hoping he had other suggestive things on his mind so she could show him how much she loved him.

"Sure," he replied and Cheryl settled in a chair, wondering if she should take the chance and undress. Listening to the pelting water from the bathroom, she finally decided that if the nature of her outfit didn't send the message, then he was probably too tired anyhow.

"I left my clothes in here," he announced, startling her out of her thoughts. She sucked in her breath at the sight of his hard, tanned body offset by the white towel. "That is, unless I don't need any."

She shook her head in reply and quickly left the chair behind, launching herself into his arms. With excruciating slowness, he carefully peeled her out the dress and her lingerie, his towel getting lost somewhere in the process. With both of them completely naked before each other, physically and emotionally, Dave ran his hands down her arms and then snaked them across her hips. Every pore of her body screamed in want. The desire building at her core was aching to erupt. He pulled her to him, her curves fitting the hard plane of his body. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his lips and body against hers as he lowered her down.

"Look at me," he whispered. She opened hazy eyes, clouded with her want of him. "It has to be me tonight…it has to be me."

As much as Pierce was never far from her, he was now nowhere in the vicinity. She cupped his face with her hands and whispered, "It couldn't be anyone else…even if I wanted…Dave."

He groaned low in his throat. "Say my name again."

She coyly grinned, her downcast lashes hiding her hazel eyes. "Dave," she whispered, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Dave Batis—" She never finished his name as his mouth devoured hers and they lost themselves in each other.

As both of them lay together completely satiated, Cheryl traced the tattoo around Dave'sbelly buttonas she curled against his side and he ran lazy fingers up and down her back. Glancing at the clock, he suddenly grinned and stated, "I've got an idea." He pulled his arm out from under her to drag the phone to the bed. "Wait, go to the bathroom and shut the door. I want it to be a surprise."

Pulling the sheet off the bed to leave him completely naked and playfully glaring at her, she wrapped the cloth around her and left him jokingly muttering curses. Shutting the door behind her, she noticed his wallet lying open on the sink and that one of the umpteenth hundred pictures of his niece had been replaced—by one of her from Nidia's wedding. It was a solo shot, a request by Mrs. Eric Angle of each of her bridesmaids. She herself had only seen the pictures last week and here Dave had one already. Cheryl felt even more guilty for their month long separation but then realized that she had an incredible man that loved her and, if that separation was what it took for her to realize that, than it was worth it.

When she could no longer hear his soft voice, he called her back. The redhead spread the sheet back around them while Dave flipped on the television. "For the countdown," he said before she assumed that he just wanted to watch some television.

They lay with their legs entwined while roving hands casually roamed. The knock at the door startled Cheryl but Dave climbed off the bed to pull on a pair of shorts. "Room service," the voice on the other side called and Cheryl couldn't wait to see what Dave had requested to be sent up. He returned with a bowl of strawberries and bottle of zinfandel in a bucket of ice.

"Since we sorta skipped this…" He sheepishly smiled and handed her the bowl of fruit so he could open the bottle. "Look, we've got ten minutes 'til countdown," he said, pointing at the television and handing her the wine glass. After Dave climbed back in beside her, she popped a strawberry in his mouth and then he did the same for her. Nibbling on fruit and sipping on wine, they waited to ring in the New Year.

When Times Square shouted "ten," Dave turned to Cheryl and quietly toasted, "To a new start and a new year…together." She clinked her glass against his and downed the rest of the zinfandel. He took it from her and set it aside as the countdown hit "one." Strawberries and wine mingled together on their tongues as they drank greedily from each other. Dave fumbled for the remote control, never once letting go of her. He turned off the television and turned himself whole-heartedly to the woman who had given the same of herself back to him. Dave Batista once claimed that he couldn't grow anything that bloomed but Cheryl Leigh was living proof before him that he could indeed.

FINI!

(1)"Love-Song" by Ranier Maria Rilke

Author's Notes: Well, it's over! I have no intentions for a sequel at this moment. Don't have a clue where I'd start. If anybody comes up with anything, feel free to e-mail me and I'll gladly give you credit. However, I do have a sequel in the works for Playing Charades tentatively called Twos and One-Eyed Jacks Wild. I'll begin posting it here in the next couple of weeks. Both fics involve Shawn Michaels and Kevin Nash.

Also of interest is my first wrestling story posted here Where Loyalty Lies. It's about to undergo a major overhaul. Reading over it recently, Oh the horror! The horror! I realized that my writing has come a long way and my writing style in Loyalty is, um, somewhat lacking. I won't be changing the vast majority of the storyline but I will be filling in more details, adding new short scenes, and correcting those glaring holes/gaps. I don't want to completely take the story down but there is no way to alert readers to updates. So, if you would like to know when each chapter is revamped, please e-mail me and I'll send you e-mail updates. Chapters One and Two are now updated if you'd like to check them out. Just don't read ahead!

Well, it's been a great ride, y'all! Thanks for all the reviews, suggestions, and just for reading!

A big thank you to all my readers and especially to those who reviewed: lucyzigg, Insane Zula, WandaXmaximoff, huntersgirl, SexySuitcase, Kora Flair, wrestlenascargirl, kiss316, Toby7, Latisha C, aimz619, Exyla4now, leelooJinn, Jess420, Jen105, coors1977, J3r1ch0h0lic4eva, RKOThug21, aussiewrestlingfan,sugar-skyline,shannfan14, LovinRKO, Shiyu-Inuyahsa,shady-angel821, Moi,cassy7, Zanna Avons, Kissybabe84, mel,sarahblue23,Roxy1984, jamie L,CenasNakedInMyBed and batistafan.