RAW Live

June 16th, 2014

Cleveland, Ohio

Previously…

But as Bobbi sat on the stretch idly swinging her legs, she noticed the look of bliss cross Stephanie's face. "You know Bobbi, there's a locker room of people you've insulted and belittled during your tenure with The Shield. I mean, obviously there's gotta be someone out there who wants a little revenge?"

Her face split into a grin as 3MB's music played across the speakers. Bobbi mirrored the reaction.

"Finally!"

Now…

Bobbi shifted her weight onto both feet as she stood from the stretcher, rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. With a smile almost cutting her cheeks in half, Heath Slater and his goons stood a top the ramp dumbfounded, Stephanie disappearing behind the tron

"No, no," she laughed into the microphone, "by all means, come down here and get your sweet, sweet revenge. I mean, I only have a stretcher and a microphone… how hard could it be?"

There was an arrogant grin across his lips then and he turned to McIntyre and Mahal, told them in no uncertain terms that he could handle this by himself, watched satisfied as they left him on the stage alone.

Turned out it was very hard to get hands on Bobbi.

His cocky walk down to where she was standing left them face to face and he lifted his fingers with a strand of her silver hair in it, but the woman just stood with a certain glint to her eyes, curve at her lips.

"Y'know, you could apologise to me and we wouldn't have anymore of a problem," Heath said.

Bobbi's eyes narrowed. "You can get your hand away from my hair and I promise to keep your pain at a minimal level."

It was when he recoiled that Bobbi struck. The strong punch had Slater reeling backwards, stumbling over his feet to get away from her, but she kept on him, ducking to catch his furious gaze. "I can apologise? I can apologise?"

They were heading back towards the ring and Bobbi quickly sidestepped him and reached a hand under the apron, locked her fingers around a weapon, rolled between the ropes and crouched in the middle in her leather joggers, motioned with two fingers for him to get in. The crowd was chanting for it, yelling "Bobbi's gonna kill you" and the smirk on her lips as he climbed in with her was flashed up across the tron.

Without the killer boots, Slater was more than a few inches taller than her.

"This isn't a match, Barbara," he called at her as they circled. "No one's gonna stop me when I get my hands on you."

But he didn't see the kendo stick she was holding behind her back.

As he stepped forwards, Bobbi twisted her body and swung her arms around. The bamboo buried deep into Slater's gut and she could hear the breath flying out of his body, brought the stick above her head and straight down onto his back remorselessly.

But she was smiling, laughing as she hit him over and over again, laughing as she turned him into a writhing mess on the ground. Twisting and driving it into his back and his stomach and at one stage across the crown of his head.

Eventually, referees were surrounding them, all calling out to the silver haired woman, trying to get her to calm down, but it was no use. She screamed something incomprehensible back at them and threw the kendo stick forcibly at the three men, sticking up both middle fingers when they stared back at her in shock— obviously they hadn't realised there was still a lot of pent up rage coursing through her body.

Bobbi propelled herself from the ring and shoved the stretcher away angrily and screamed, scooped the microphone into her hand.

"Stephanie McMahon, Triple H," she panted, "anyone else standing backstage who even thinks they can settle a score with me— Seth Rollins has succeeded in just one thing, and that's making me angry. Welcome to the fun house."

—

Sitting backstage watching John Cena and Kane put each other through living hell was not as entertaining as Bobbi first thought it was going to be.

"How's your shoulder?"

Dean was sitting across from her in catering, tiredly munching away at a sandwich, his soggy hair drying from an earlier match. "Not too flash, honestly."

"You seen Doc yet?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "like I said, it'll be fine in a couple more days."

Bobbi sent him a look. She knew what he was like with injuries— if it wasn't bleeding, it was fine. "Don't let it get too bad."

"Have you talked to Filipa?" His change of subject drew a long sigh from the silver haired woman. He'd obviously heard about the weird— confrontation that had happened the previous week, and when Bobbi shook her head, he raised his eyebrows. "She asked me how you were going."

"She did what?"

Dean shrugged, his eyes now avoiding hers. "She asked me how you were goin' before the show started, I told her you were doin' fine. I thought you guys were supposed to be best friends or somethin'."

This time it was Bobbi who raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, so did I."

As the match neared it's end, Bobbi excused herself from the table and walked across towards the gorilla, raised her eyebrows at Randy Orton and shooting him a little grin.

"Hi."

At first, she didn't really want to acknowledge him. She didn't know how to, yet. So she mimicked what Seth had said to her, murmuring a soft 'hi' before turning her attention back towards the stage hands as they stared at the monitors.

Randy and Seth were given the signal to go and Bobbi stood alone for just a moment. Then, it was showtime.

As she ran out from behind the tron, pale eyes zeroed in on the three men in the ring.

Seth had betrayed her for The Authority. Fact. They didn't want Cena winning the match for a chance to enter the WWE World Heavyweight Championship ladder match at Money in the Bank. Fact. Cena had helped her boys last week. Fact. Which, in any language— it meant that she and Cena had at least one thing in common.

The crowd responded loudly as she bolted down to the squared circle. Orton was pounding the mat in preparation to hit the RKO on Cena, and she slid in as he stood up. As soon as she had crawled to her feet, as soon as Seth's wide brown eyes had met hers, Bobbi wrapped her arm around Randy Orton's neck and pulled him face down into the mat with an RKO. With John and Randy now lying limp on the mat, Bobbi stood and locked her eyes back onto Seth Rollins, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, his hands up to try and calm her down.

But there was more screaming, more noise. The ring dipped under the weight of a new person and the smirk on Bobbi's face deepened, because now standing next to her was none other than Dean Ambrose.

"This is how it's gonna be?" Seth called at them, and for a moment his eyes flashed.

"We ain't gonna stop 'til there's no longer a spine in your back," Ambrose replied.

Yet as soon as the words were out of his mouth he was spun away, Kane's fist hitting him underside the jaw, sending him reeling, and Bobbi just barely managed to side step Rollins. She kept her momentum going, knew that Dean could handle himself against the big red monster, bounced off the ropes closest to her and launched onto Seth.

They flew back and then Bobbi's legs were either side of his body, her fists slamming into his face over and over until he was shifting the momentum, rolling the pair of them from the ring and onto the padded floor. She was on top and then he was, pushing away from her and trying to run, but Bobbi was up and climbing onto his back, locking an arm around his throat in a sleeper hold, tightening her legs around his waist.

Bobbi could barely hear herself thinking over the noise of the crowd.

Seth's gloved hands were flailing at her arms and her fingers were knotted into wet hair, pressuring his head down onto her arm, and the man was groaning and spinning and trying desperately to get her off of him. But then fingers curled into the leather joggers and her blue top, tugging her harshly off him.

The impact of her body on the floor was jarring. Bobbi bit against her lip, could feel warm blood spill into her mouth.

Randy Orton and Seth Rollins stood over her for not even a second before legs were pressing into her back and for the shortest moment, she thought that it was Kane and the breath in her lungs vanished. But Ambrose's hand was wrapping around the tattooed arm and yanking her to unsteady feet, standing next to her with a wild look flashing in his blue eyes.

In the ring, Cena and Kane had resumed the match, but the audience was much more interested in the stand-off now taking place outside the ring, a chant of 'this is awesome' breaking out around them.

And as John Cena finally managed to put Kane on a stretcher and wheel him across the yellow line on the stage, that's where the four stayed.

—

It was becoming habitual that on a Wednesday morning, Bobbi would find herself wide awake in Dean's bed, ready to go for the most intense training session of the week.

Her boyfriend was sleeping on his stomach, mouth opened as he snored, one arm haphazardly thrown over her bare waist, the other tucked under his shoulder. Bobbi smiled at the sight of his peaceful face and smoothed her hand across the mess of his hair. His fingers twitched against her ribs.

"Dean…"

His mouth shut and he pursed his lips, frowning as he grunted at her.

"C'mon, baby," Bobbi tried again, trailing a hand down to his neck. "Time to go to the gym."

"Five more minutes," he groaned.

She rolled her pale eyes and pushed from the bed, pulled a clean set of workout clothes from the suitcase she'd yet to take back down to her apartment. There was a lime green sports bra, some knee length leggings, grey Nike sneakers, and by the time she'd changed into them, Dean was back to snoring. A grin pulled at her lips and she tugged on a black graphic tank top, crouched beside him.

"You gonna meet me down there?"

He grunted again.

Bobbi pressed a kiss against his hair and walked from the apartment, plugging in a pair of headphones and taping into her workout playlist. It was a mix of old and new, head banging and bass that kept her motivated to keep moving.

The gym was empty as she walked in and her eyes automatically set on the lat pull-down machine, throwing her grey towel to the ground. She reached above her for the handles and sat, pulled the bar down with her, kept that natural arch in her lower back. Up, down, up, down, keeping tempo with the beat of Eminem's song, lasting the entirety.

A new song meant a new exercise. Next was the leg press machine, extending her legs and flexing them as she felt the burn start in her quads.

There was a lackey around her wrist and she pulled her hair up into a loose knot as a sweat started to build on her face, and by the time the song had finished, her legs were absolutely screaming at her.

Bobbi took a long drag of water, jumped up and down on the spot to shake out what was left of her tiredness.

She moved towards the back extension machine and leant her weight against the cushion at her thighs, hooked her legs under padded bars, then locked her fingers around a circular weight and pressed down, leant up, repeating the motions as quick as she could until the next song was done.

It was only when she sat down at the tricep extension machine, sitting with her breasts pressed up against the cushions that Dean walked into the gym. As she lifted and lowered the barbells in her hands, pale eyes trailed after her boyfriend. He swept a hand through the mess of wavy hair, walked over to where the weighted balls were. She was too busy watching the way the muscles in his arms rippled to observe that her song had changed, noticing with a start that she should've been on the next exercise.

With her arms still weighed down by the barbells, Bobbi lunged the length of the room for the rest of the song, could feel the way Dean's eyes were burning into her thighs.

Next were squats, and she stood in the middle of a contraption with weights on a bar across her back, and by now the tank she'd been wearing was next to where she'd left her towel.

Dean had moved onto the ropes that were set up in a corner, began whipping them back and forth, and then his shirt was off. Taut muscles flexed along his smooth back and once again Bobbi was momentarily distracted watching him.

She yanked a headphone out of her ear. "You know how distracting you are, Ambrose?"

He shot her a smirk over his bare shoulder.

When the song switched, Bobbi shifted to where three different boxes were. There was a small one, a larger one, and then the largest. Breathing in and out of her nose, she jumped onto the smallest one, jumped off. Continued that until there was a decent burn in her thighs, then moved onto the middle one, then onto the largest one.

By the time she was done, there was a buildup of sweat on her skin, chest rising and falling in pants as she tried to catch her breath.

She glanced over at where Dean was staring at her, watched the way his mouth was moving, tugged her earphone back out. "Huh?"

"You know how hard it is to concentrate when you're dressed like that?"

Bobbi did a double take on the sports bra and bike shorts, lifted an eyebrow as she glanced back at him. "Keep it together, toots."

Taking another long swig of her water, Bobbi watched as Dean powered through the rest of his gym exercises, finally finishing with some stretches that she probably should have done. Waltzing back over to where her things were, she yanked the black fabric back over her head, tucked the grey towel into the waistband of her shorts.

"You ready to go?" she asked Dean as he walked over to her.

With a nod of his head, they were off, walking towards the lift but completely past it, instead pushing open the stairwell. Bobbi sprinted down the flights with her hand resting over the bar and a smile tugged at her lips once more when Dean matched her pace.

They were out onto the street in a couple more moments, ducking and weaving between pedestrians before turning down a side street.

"What's the plan for tonight?"

Bobbi glanced up at Dean. "Dunno, what do you wanna do?"

"Date?"

She snorted but kept running, now focusing her eyes onto the path in front of her. "If you want."

"We could go to the cinema and catch that movie you wanna see."

"Movie date," Bobbi nodded her head pensively, but then she was smiling, glancing back up at Dean. "Is this because I said you weren't romantic?"

He raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, looking away pointedly. "No."

"It so is."

"Okay, maybe," he puffed out, "but seriously, it's not a bad idea."

"What movie again?"

"Godzilla."

Bobbi blanched, looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "That's the movie you wanna see!"

"I thought you wanted to see it!"

"No, I wanna see Maleficent."

"Noooo," Dean groaned, "giant monster killing machine always over watching a chick flick."

"You loved White Chicks," she reminded him.

"It's White Chicks! Everybody loves White Chicks! That shit's funny as fuck."

Snorting back another laugh, Bobbi matched Dean's pace as they turned onto another main street, now heading towards a local wrestling academy. And then her lips curved.

"Tell you what, Dean, whoever gets to Adrenaline first chooses the movie."

His only response was to take off in a sprint, and Bobbi was left chasing after him and yelling something about how he was cheating.

—

After Dean beat her to Adrenaline Unleashed, Kent Wilson, the owner of the indie brand, let them into the large shed and told them to shut up shop once they were done. One ring loomed in front of them in the viewing area and out back there were a couple of punching backs and skipping ropes.

It was normal for Bobbi and Dean to wrestle against each other while they were training, and more often than not Bobbi was left on her back after an insinuated three count, but she was happy Dean never went easy on her or slacked off— it meant that her wins over him were that much sweeter. Also, there was a slight possibility that he was too proud to let her win on purpose. Either way, it worked for them.

But now Bobbi was bracing a punching bag as Dean laid into it remorsefully. She was pushing her weight into it, tensing her body as his jabs and stronger hits sent shocks through her muscles.

"What do you think Seth's gonna do?"

There was a short silence. Then, "Huh?"

"I mean, do you think he's going to leave Leighla?" Bobbi clarified, glancing around to stare at her boyfriend. "You can't tell me that you haven't noticed the way he's been watching Filipa."

"I think Leighla will castrate him."

That was definitely a good point. "He gonna wait for her to decide or not?"

"Dunno, why don't you ask him?"

"As much as I miss him and want to know all the details, that fucker still isn't forgiven."

Dean snorted at her and jabbed quickly at the bag. "You could say that again."

She watched him closely now, narrowed her pale green eyes. "How are you not in rage-mode about this? I thought trust was a big thing to you."

Her insinuation was there and Dean stopped hitting the bag altogether, staring at her with a frown. They both remembered their massive fight when it had come to trust in their relationship. "I am mad at him, Bob, but I'm also a professional, and he's still my friend. He sold himself out, not me, so that's his problem. Plus, where else was The Shield gonna go?"

"Dunno," she admitted. "Imagine how cool it would have been for you boys to all have singles titles, for me to have the Diva's Championship."

He smiled at that. "You? A Diva's Champion? That would entail you being a diva, and honestly… can't picture that."

"Me neither."

sorry this took so long to get up, was being a bitch to get done, so that's why it's a bit shorter than usual!

to my beautiful reviewers Raquel the writer (thank you!), Microspider (thank you! Bobbi's new theme is an instrumental version of Bad Girls by M.I.A with a bit more of a bass feel to it- but the instrumental works just fine as well, ;) ), and quinzel harley (saaame omg, it took a while to find the right one, but it suits so well! hope you enjoyed this update since you practically were begging for it ;) ), thanks so much for the kind words and I hope you enjoyed this update!

xx