Author's Note: Some Charlotte and Becky. And ice cream. Three of my favorite things!

Rocky Road

Weeks after losing to Sasha, the Women's Championship was the only thing on my mind. I had worked so hard to reach the very top of the division, and it all came crashing down in one night - three seconds was all it took for her to take my spotlight. It was a tough pill to swallow, having been the champion for so long. More often than not, I'd glance over and expect the championship to be draped over my shoulder, its cold caress still keeping me warm; I felt more weight on my shoulders now than when I'd been carrying it around.

It was lonely, and it had always been lonely in my position - the top of the mountain - but it was worth it if it meant I could be the sole representative of how far the women's division had come. I sacrificed my friends, my lifestyle, and my family for this, and at the time, it felt like I was doing what was best for my career. But now, as I sat alone backstage - wallowing in the stench of my own bitter loneliness - I began to wonder if it was worth it. I wasn't completely alone, I reminded myself; I had Dana.

But Dana was… Dana.

Concerned as she was, I told Dana to leave me to my thoughts for a while. Despite her skepticism, she did just that and left the arena an hour ago. Now alone, all I could do was sit and wait for a phone call that I wasn't sure was ever going to come.

Which was why I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my phone ringing. I quickly pulled it out of my front pocket, putting in the password as fast as humanly possible - neatly trimmed nails tapping against the screen - and I felt my heart jump when I saw who was calling. 'Firecracker,' it read - my affectionate name for Becky Lynch, accompanied by a picture of her smiling face. It was impossible not to smile in return. Realizing that I'd kept her waiting, I answered, hesitantly.

"Hello?"

"Charlotte, you've got about ten seconds to tell me why I have eight missed calls and three voice messages. All from you."

"Okay, I can explain."

"Well you better start talking, before I suplex you all the way to freakin' Timbuktu."

This wasn't the lovely start to this conversation that I had hoped for, but it was certainly expected. I didn't have the courage to tell Dana that the real reason I sent her home was so that I could attempt to patch things up with Becky. She was my best friend. Or ex-best friend. I wasn't going to sit here and mentally argue with myself over semantics. The point was that Becky was the one I was the closest to, not just in the business, but in my life altogether.

I longed for the days where we spent hours on the road, bodies and luggage cramped in a terribly petite rental car. With anyone else, it would've been a nightmare, but Becky knew how to make anything interesting, especially a car ride. I missed talking to her at two in the morning and having lengthy conversations in our hotel rooms about the old woman with the snake tattoo, or the little boy that called her 'bootifull,' all while reruns of 'Law and Order' played quietly in the background. I needed her, now more than ever.

That being said, I had no idea how to tell Becky any of this, my tongue tied in fifty knots.

"I uh... Look, you wanna meet me for ice cream?"

I saw a small ice cream shop a few miles back and knew it'd be perfect, especially since Becky loved ice cream more than some people. Possibly most people.

"Why on earth would I meet with you anywhere?"

"Because you're a sucker for ice cream."

"Hittin' below the belt, I see. Using my weaknesses against me. Fine, just give me the address of the place and we can meet up tomorrow. No funny stuff, got it? Or I might keep good on my promise to tear your arm off and beat you with it."

Ignoring Becky's not-so-veiled and amazingly transparent threat, I fought the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl. This didn't necessarily mean anything, but the fact that she agreed to this little rendezvous meant that it was a step in the right direction.

I should probably work on what to say by tomorrow.

Less than twenty-four hours later, I was at our agreed upon meeting place. The shop was quiet and out of the way, a perfect spot for a real heart-to-heart. I decided that anything I could practice saying to Becky would sound too rehearsed - too robotic. In the end, I settled on the age-old strategy of 'improvising,' which wasn't really a strategy, but it was something I was sure Becky would appreciate. Going with your gut, taking chances, that was the Becky credo.

Before I could think about what flavor of ice cream I wanted, I spotted Becky at a lone table outdoors, licking away at ice cream that barely fit inside of the cone it was situated in. I walked over as she was engulfing the entire cone into her mouth and down her throat. Where did she fit all of that anyway?

"Nice to see you waited up."

"You were running late, so I helped myself."

I took a peek at my phone, checking to see if she was correct.

"I'm only three minutes late."

"Late is late. Oh, I got you something too."

I looked over to her left, where I noticed a large bowl of ice cream - too large for one person to eat alone. She pulled out two spoons, one for each of us.

"If you want."

I sat down in the chair opposite her, taking one of the utensils from her hand, before scooping up a large spoonful of the ice cream centered between us. Despite my best efforts, I let out a loud moan of satisfaction.

"Oh my god. This is so good. Chocolate?"

"Not just chocolate, rocky road!"

"My favorite."

"Psh, I still know what you like! I mean, um, you know. After everything…"

Her voice trailed off, and I could sense that things were slowly heading down the path of awkwardness. An abrupt silence overcame us afterwards, and we continued to eat in this manner before she spoke up a few minutes later, setting her spoon down.

"So, why am I here?"

"Well. Alright. So, I thought that maybe we could renew our friendship and bond over frozen treats?"

As I heard the words that left my own mouth, I wanted to punch myself in the face. Maybe I would've been better off with a robotic, rehearsed response. This was brutal.

Becky drummed her fingers along the table, creating a noise that only served to heighten my anxiousness. I knew her well enough to know that she was trying her best to convey her thoughts.

"I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't dreamt of this moment for a long time. But I just, I don't know, I can't really forgive you."

"What? Why not?!"

"Well, let's go down the list, shall we? You basically betrayed my trust, you cheated me out of a championship, you blindsided me, you ganged up on me with your little blonde crony, and you gave me a real good shiner at Wrestlemania that I owe you for. Though, I guess that could've been Sasha, but I figured that'd be something horrible you'd do. I just find it hard to forgive you after all of that."

As she counted off the list with her fingers, my mind instantly showed me flashbacks of the events. Every deceitful action, every sneaky attack, replayed itself in my head. She wasn't wrong - I did do all of those things and more, but I thought that if anyone would be willing to forgive my past transgressions, it'd be Becky.

"Come on, Becks. I said I was sorry! What do I have to do? Pay for the ice cream? Buy you dinner?"

"You think you can just say, 'Oh, sorry for hurting you a thousand and one times!' and expect everything to be fine and dandy? That's not how it works, Charlotte! You really… you really broke my heart, you know."

"Broke your heart?"

She picked up her spoon, before shoveling down ample amounts of ice cream. Whatever was on her mind, she clearly didn't want to talk about it, instead choosing to devour the rest of our dessert. It was only when she noticed the bewildered expression on my face that she chose to explain.

"You were always so oblivious, Charlotte. It was actually quite impressive, I have to admit. You were so consumed with 'championship' this and 'legacy' that - you never noticed how much time I wanted to spend with you. The only thing on your mind was being at the top, but me? I just wanted to be by your side. It didn't matter if you won the title, or I won the title, as long as we were together. It kind of seems silly now. 'Becky, only one person can be at the top!' And I get it, but if it meant that I could be with you - that we could keep spending our time together like we did - then I didn't care. But you didn't know - how could you have known? - and then it happened. You tossed me aside like an old shoe. Felt like I got punched right in the chest."

'I just wanted to be by your side.' The words played themselves over and over in my head like a broken record, but I couldn't process them. Was this really Becky? Did she really feel that way about me? I wasn't sure if I could believe it - maybe this was a cruel endeavor to get some payback - but one look at her face was enough to convince me. I'd never seen Becky this bashful before, refusing to look in my direction, her eyes filled with so much hurt - hurt that I caused.

"I'm sorry."

"We've been over this. You can't say crawl back to me, say you're 'sorry,' and make it better."

"No! I-I know. I just, it's something that needs to be said. You're right. You're absolutely right. I hurt you, I did, and I did it for selfish reasons. I didn't want to hurt you, but I did. I can't take any of that back. I gave up everything I loved - I gave you up - for two seconds in the limelight. I want to make this right, pick up where we left off, have fun again. Together."

I tentatively reached my hand across the table, placing it - cautiously, almost fearfully - on top of hers. Though expecting her to pull away, she unexpectedly flipped her hand over, grasping my fingers within her palm. I could feel her trembling, scared. Scared over where this was going, scared over whether or not she could trust me. Scared over me, over us.

"How do I know I can trust you? I can't let you close just so you can hightail it out of my life and leave me alone again."

"Because I was alone too. I pushed away everyone that cared about me, and every day I was alone. I don't care about the championship, or being number one, or carrying some dumb legacy. At least, not nearly as much as I care about you. I miss you, and I promise I won't take you for granted ever again."

For the first time in months, she stared into my eyes, her own glowing orbs checking for the slightest hint of insincerity behind them. After a few seconds of this, she gripped my hand tighter than before.

"If you're lying, I swear that arm is mine."

"You can have the left one."

"Your spiking hand? Sheesh, won't be playing much volleyball if that happens. I guess you must be serious."

I breathed out a sigh of relief, the sound of Becky's joking putting me at ease.

"I missed you too, Charlotte. So, so much."

It felt good to hear that someone still cared, even after everything we've been through. I put Becky through so much turmoil, and I was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

"Well, you won't have to miss me anymore, because I'll be stuck to you like glue, like the good ol' days."

"Glue, eh? What about Dana?"

"She'll just have to get used to the vast amounts orange in her life now."

"Always with the hair. Oh, you did say you'd pay for this, right? Better get on that 'fore ice cream. Get it? I scream, ice cream?"

"Still wondering if I missed those puns at all. I'm sure I'll be hearing them later regardless."

As I turned to head for the counter, I heard Becky mumble something I didn't quite catch. Before I could fully ask - before I could fathom what was happening - she pulled me by the wrist, sending her lips crashing into mine. Her hands slowly wrapped around my neck, my hands following suit around her waist. Our lips were saying everything - the one thing - that we had been too afraid to say with our voices, communicating in a language that was simple to understand. As we deepened the kiss, our tongues mingling, I could only imagine how long Becky had been waiting to do this, how long I had been waiting to do this, and how often we'd be doing this after today. When we finally broke apart, Becky repeated what she'd stated earlier.

"I said you had some ice cream on your lip. Don't worry, I got it for you."

Becky's craftiness nearly went unnoticed, because all I could think about was how she tasted like rocky road ice cream.

My favorite.

End