A/N: Sorry about the delay; I'm SLOWLY working on updating all my stories. Plus, I had such trouble with this chapter, especially the end. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it.
Thank you to Writinglove101, Sinfully Sined, Ainat, AshlynnXHearts, Queen of Destruction2, The Hardy Boyz are hot, Nastygrl25 and karategirl7 for reviewing the last chapter! You all rock!
Chapter 3: A Fair Trade
Despite the fact that it was early November, a balmy breeze blew through the Tampa streets. The small park was a few blocks down from the bar, its gates still open despite the late hour. Worn wooden benches, surrounded by palm trees and smaller tropical shrubs, lined a wide walkway, leading up to a large ornate fountain. Water cascaded downwards, the lights of the nearby avenue streaking it with streams of gold, blue and pink.
Mickie and Batista walked slowly down the path, neither one saying anything. The former Women's Champion crossed her arms over her chest. Batista no longer held onto her arm, but somehow, she could still feel his touch, the residual memory of it burning against her skin. Mickie rubbed her arms briskly; not because she was cold, but because she couldn't stop her nerves from tingling. She kept her eyes on the ground, afraid to open her mouth for fear that the first words out of it would be pure gibberish.
"Beautiful," The Animal's quiet observation snapped the brown-haired Diva out of her reverie, and she looked over, startled.
"What?" she blurted out, wanting to kick herself for how clueless she sounded.
Batista glanced at her with some astonishment, as though surprised his remark had been said aloud. The moment their eyes met, Mickie felt her breath catch in her throat. "The night, I mean," the Animal added after a few seconds pause. "It's a beautiful night…for November…" He trailed off, perhaps realizing that he was painting himself into a verbal corner.
Mickie had no choice but to agree with him; she didn't trust herself with anything more. "Yeah…yeah, it is," she replied, tearing her gaze away from his to look upward at the dark sky. Several more seconds crept by, and the former Women's Champion cleared her throat, hoping to God that she didn't sound awkward. "But then again, you live here, don't you? You must see a lot of nights like this."
"Yeah, but not as nice as this," Batista answered, his eyes still on her. The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. "Sure beats those D.C. winters. Man, I don't think I could ever go back to that."
In spite of herself, Mickie felt her lips curving upward. "Oh, I hear you. Virginia's not much better—" Her voice trailed off into nothing as she looked over and locked eyes with the former World Champion. A wave of powerlessness swept over her; the feeling that she was not in control of the situation…and kind of liked it. The brunette Diva quickly looked away, focusing on a bench, a shrub, the ground—anything but the Animal's dark eyes.
"Hey, Mick?" Batista's voice was soft, but there was a seriousness to his voice that hadn't been there before. Without realizing it, Mickie ground to a halt, crossing her arms even tighter over her chest. She didn't look at the Animal, knowing that as soon as she did, her heart would leap into her throat and render speech impossible. Why now?...she silently chastised herself. Why did you pick THIS night to start acting like a teenager with a crush?
"Yeah?" the former Women's Champion answered, pretending to absolutely captivated by a flowering plant looming over the path to her right.
Next to her, she heard the Animal exhale quietly before continuing. "Look, what's going with you? Ever since we left that bar, you've barely said a word, you won't look at me—" He paused for a moment. "If I did something to piss you off, please, just let me know—"
Mickie couldn't stop herself; she spun around, mouth agape, already shaking her head in dissent. "No!" she exclaimed, taking a step toward the former World Champion. "No, it's not you, it's me—" She broke off, comprehending for the first time both her close proximity to Batista and what was on the verge of coming out of her mouth. The brunette Diva turned away, her long hair shielding her face from the Animal's view. "Never mind; it's nothing. Just—just forget I said anything."
"Hey," With one hand, Batista gripped her shoulder, turning her back around to face him. He leaned down, peering into her face. "It's not nothing, okay? Whatever you're trying to say—just say it. I'd rather have that than the silent treatment."
For a few long moments, Mickie literally couldn't speak; she was too mesmerized by his eyes, by the sharp angles of his face, so close to hers. She felt the words bubbling up inside her, and before she could check herself, they exploded outward like an eruption of lava.
"I like you, okay?" the former Women's Champion blurted out, her words pouring out in a rush of syllables. She pulled back from the Animal, running both hands through her long golden-brown hair. "God, I know I'm going to sound like a total stalker for saying this—but I've liked you for a long time. I mean…when you first came to Raw, it took me three weeks to work up the nerve to introduce myself, just because I was so terrified that the first words out of my mouth would be: 'Hi, I'm Mickie James; I used be a psycho.'"
She took another step back from Batista, looking off toward the fountain as she spoke. "I know…that we don't have anything in common. You're a four-time World Champion…and I'm just another Diva. But after tonight's match—I was furious, but at the same time, I was also kind of happy because you and I finally had something we could both relate to. You know?"
Mickie rushed on before the Animal could comment. She had to get this all out—or she would never be able to work up the nerve to say it again. "I thought that tonight, we could go out and I could get to know you and maybe, this crush would go away. But after being here, with you—" She stopped for a second to collect herself, then continued, lifting her gaze up to meet his. "I know that it's just a crush, but it feels real. And I know that it doesn't mean anything, and that after tonight, we'll go back to having nothing to do with each other—but I don't want it to stop." Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over her lower lashes. Her voice fell to a husky whisper. "I don't want it to stop," she repeated.
In reality, she and Batista only stood there staring at each other for a second, but to Mickie, it seemed to stretch on and on into eternity. The brown-haired Diva abruptly turned away before the Animal could see the first tears trickling down her cheeks. "Excuse me," she managed to say before striding off in the direction of the fountain.
Batista watched her go without saying anything. The former Women's Champion sank down onto the ledge of the fountain, her back to him. Her shoulders moved up and down slightly. It took the Animal a few seconds to realize that she was crying and trying not to. In that moment, logic ceased to mean anything to Batista; all that mattered was the call of his heart.
And—and unlikely as it might seem—his heart was leading him directly to Mickie James.
Without hesitating another second, the former World Champion closed the distance between him and Mickie, halting just a foot away from her. The brunette Diva froze, but didn't turn around; only stared at the rippling water and the coins glimmering below its surface.
"Two things:" The Animal paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "One…you're not a psycho." Mickie's shoulders jumped in what might have been a laugh, but she still didn't turn around. "Two…" Batista stepped closer and reached down, taking her chin gently in his hand and turning her face toward him. His heart twisted painfully at seeing the tearstains on her cheeks. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gentle, uttering only seven short words: "I don't want it to stop, either."
At this, Mickie's beautiful face sagged in shock, her mouth dropping open. Putting both hands on her face, the Animal gently pulled up to her feet, brushing away her tears with his thumb. Leaning closer, he placed a soft kiss on one cheek, then the other. A soft sigh escaped Mickie's lips. Batista moved lower, kissing the corner of her mouth, then finally, covering her lips with his own.
The kiss was sensual, intense, locking both of them away in a place where the rest of the world could not intrude. For those few precious seconds, Chris Jericho, Beth Phoenix, a steel cage, the Championship—none of it mattered. All that mattered was the two of them.
They eventually pulled apart, both of them gasping slightly for breath. Batista held her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. Her skin felt petal-soft beneath his fingertips.
"It's so unfair," Mickie spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. She sounded like her old self again.
Surprised at her choice of words, the Animal opened his eyes and pulled back, staring quizzically at the former Women's Champion. "What do you mean?"
Mickie gazed up at him, a smile on her lips, humor sparkling in her eyes. "I mean, you had to lose a championship to end up here with me."
Batista stared back at her affectionately, his mouth curving into a smile of his own. "Oh, I don't know," he remarked, his tone amused, but with a serious undertone. "Between me and Jericho…I think I got the better end of the deal."
With that, he leaned down to kiss her again, and Mickie kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her slender body against his.
As they embraced, the Animal thought to himself that, in a night where so much had gone wrong, he was indeed lucky to have found something—and someone—that was right.
THE END