Flames

Drafted, part 2

Just as Seth had reservations about his first-draft-pick match, Becky started having doubts as soon as Sasha was pulled from the card. "It's going to be Charlotte," she said, shutting her eyes and sighing as Seth pulled into the arena parking lot. "Just like the hundred other times."

"And you'll beat her, just like . . . well, like most of those hundred other times." Seth's lips twitched in a smile, but a darkness had settled in his eyes on Friday night and never really lifted.

"Except Sasha could interfere. Or Bayley. Hell, maybe it'll be Sister Abigail at this point." Once Seth had parked, Becky unbuckled her seat belt so quickly, it nearly hit her shoulder as it retracted. Seth beat her to the back of the SUV, though, and she had to practically climb over him just to grab one of the bags. "Give me something to carry," she demanded. "I need to keep my hands busy so I don't smack people."

Seth's smile widened as he handed her a tote bag. "I'd suggest some other things you could do with your hands, but that's why we're late in the first place. Again."

"First of all," Becky retorted, "we're not late. We're just . . . barely on time. Second of all, you certainly weren't complaining at the time, but I guess if it's going to be a problem. . . ."

"No, no problem." Seth backed her up against the side of the SUV and kissed her, catching the tote bag's handle when it slipped from her grasp. "You're just used to main-eventing, that's all."

"What a shame it's gone to your head." While Seth blinked in confusion, the pun slowly dawning on him, Becky ducked under his arms, grabbed her bags plus an extra one, and started to head inside. By the time he locked up the SUV, gathered the rest of the bags, and caught up to her, Seth was still chuckling. "Hurry up. I need to get to Creative and find out if I rescue you from the evil blue clutches of SmackDown."

"What happened to bleeding blue?" Seth set one arm's worth of bags down so he could hug her.

It would have been easy to make another joke, make some quip about riding with someone else, but since Seth had been out of sorts since Hell in a Cell, Becky didn't want to add to his insecurities. "You happened," she said simply, giving him a soft kiss. "I can be happy wherever you are. Raw, SmackDown—they could even put us back on NXT. Doesn't matter." She reached up and tugged on his bun. "You're my favourite show."

"Careful, Irish, your feelings are showing." But Seth still put the rest of the bags down and held her close for a long moment until they heard footsteps approaching. "We better get going," he said reluctantly. "I think I saw Peyton. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get awww-ed to death."

"Nope, definitely not." Becky gave Seth another kiss. "I'll find you after I'm dressed." Then she grabbed her bags and headed to Creative, dreading the run-around she was likely to get. After the unsatisfying end to Seth's match against Roman, she wasn't holding out much hope for her bout, especially now that it was against Charlotte.

She had just rounded the corner when she spotted a bright red jacket. "Hi, bestie. I was looking for you." Charlotte had a script in each hand and held one out to Becky. "You win by roll-up," she added, kissing Becky's cheek. "I figured I'd spoil it for you so you didn't have to worry about winning your boy's spot."

Becky set all her things against the wall and flipped through the script. Their starting banter trod familiar ground and the match would go back and forth, but at least it looked like it would be even throughout. No cheating, no interference. "No holes in the mat? No Sister Abigail? That's a relief." Then she realized what Charlotte said and jabbed her in the side. "Oh, like they're going to separate you and your papi."