"Sneaky Bitch"

A car hummed along as it passed behind them, Xavier holding the metal-framed glass door to allow Melissa to walk in first.  The flight of wooden steps greeted them immediately.  Their bodies pressed closely together, the back of her head rested against his chest for a moment.  The space between was a small cubicle with barely enough room for them both to stand in there at the same time.  "Come on, dork.  Move it already," he joked.  She only grumbled in response, but moved forward to walk up the steps.

He followed closely a couple steps behind her.  Eyes level with the back of her neck, he tried to focus his attention on the brown hair tied back into a single strand flowing down between her shoulders.  Their footsteps somewhat muffled, the only sounds announcing their arrival being the creaking of the wood below and the growing volume of their breathing.  The up and down from the steps lifted her up a little more then he was trying to look, his eyes catching the small ass in the track pants.  No, not here nor now.  They were both going to have to stay focused for this if she was going to be ready.

She had been bugging the shit out of him to let her be more active.  Fine, but he was going to be damned if he was going to let her get into things in the ring unprepared.  Yes, they had already done all this before last year when she wanted to get into wrestling with him.  And yes, she had never been beaten, even won a title in the short time she wrestled but had to drop it almost immediately after when they found out she was pregnant.  Now with Kelsey out, nothing was going to stop her from mixing it up again, or so she told him adamantly.

They reached the top after about thirty seconds of climbing.  The landing was even smaller then the cubicle at the bottom.  She stood in front of him, pressing against him with a shoulder while looking at the door to her other side as if a needless and cumbersome chore waited on the other side.  "God, Xavier," she whined in her oh so bitchy yet mature kind of way, "I don't see why we have to do this.  It's not like I' completely new to being in a ring."  Her quick success had shown him that was indeed a quick learner and had a good feel for things, but a natural?  He was not ready to go that far.  Besides, if he ever did tell her as much, she would never let him live it down.

"Not this again, Mel," he groaned between closed teeth.  He did not want to sound angry with her, but he was growing just the slightest bit agitated by now.  That was one thing about their relationship that remained a constant.  Even with the aspect of being legally married and a daughter, they still retained the constant brother/sister dynamic.  They could banter back and forth for hours, more comfortable with each other than anyone else, but they also had the ability to get on the other's last damn nerves.  He supposed stubbornness was a family trait.  Just great, he was not going to be the one to deal with Kelsey years later when she would start pmsing.

"You want to get back into wrestling.  You didn't want to get out of it, but being knocked up forced you out.  I get that," he told her, inching forward to nudge her closer to the door, "But I want to make sure you don't have any kind of rust on you.  Call me an over-protective dickhead, but if you want back in, this is what you're going to have to do."  She only sighed in answer, extending her hand to grip around the brass knob, "I can't believe you made me call Bianca to have her baby sit for this."

At least she was the one that turned the knob and lead the way into the room.  Of that much, he was proud of her for swallowing that infamous Michaels pride and taking his advice.  What harm would some shaking off of the ring rust be?  She walked in first, Xavier following in closely to close the door behind him.  In the center of the room, blue nylon mat a few inches thick sat on the stained hardwood floor.  Bright afternoon sun shone through to light the room brilliantly.  Besides the single mat, the small room was furniture spartanly.  Not even another door to any other connecting room adorned the walls.  She laughed turning back to him, "What the hell did you rent?  Stu Hart's Upper West Side dungeon?"

Xavier waved a hand at her, going to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a small octagonal table.  Reaching into his pants, he pulled out his phone followed by keys and wallet and lain them on the top, "I know you didn't want me to make a big thing out of something you don't think you need right?  Well, no-big-thing, Mel.  Mel, no-big-thing.  There, you two been introduced.  Happy?"  "Smart ass," she mumbled under her breath.  He laughed to himself; he had to be amused by the irony of her calling him a smart ass.  As Shane would say in one of her quaint yet strange country psalms, it would be the pot calling the kettle black.

That was when, without any hint of a warning, she jumped onto his back.  Arm tightening against his throat and tightening as a python would squeeze its prey, legs swung around his sides to lock her ankles crossed together at his waist.  "Oh fuck," he choked out, "Sneaky bitch, this ain't fair."  Her lips grazed his ear, her tone mocking him as she whispered into his ears with teasingly soft blows, "This is what you want me to do out there don't you?  Now stop being such a baby.  If you can't roll around and wrestle a girl, how the hell do you expect to be a hard ass in Xtreme title match?  Now stop being such a pussy."

He swung around, hands around her ankles trying to pull her legs apart but she was not budging.  Bending over, he cause her to finally let go and flip over his head and back with the momentum.  Landing flat on her back, she looked back up to him, and he to her.  He lips pursed with a smirk, a nod of her head which he read as she knew she had gotten his attention.  Now they were both prepared and ready.  In a blink, her legs snapped back up to lock around behind his head this time, choking him with a head scissors.

Xavier could feel the muscles in her calves tighten around his neck, trying to swing him over to take him down.  Sneaky fucking bitch allows not fighting fair.  He could handle her, but she was no Johnny Chaos so this was far from the proper training experience.  He could not exactly beat her to a bloody pulp.  Snapping him out of his thought of turning this against her was the blaring tone from his phone sitting on the table.  "Umm, Mel, you mind?," he said with a darting of his eyes in the direction of the phone.  She rolled her eyes at him, grumbling, "Fine," as she released the hold of her legs from his neck.

He cast a wandering eye to her, scanning her body as she lay flat on her back, legs bent at her knees and hands crossed under her head to prop it up.  No, no, no.  Phone god damn it.  A couple steps off of the mat, he picked up the phone only to hear the southern drawl he only new so well unfortunately.  "With Mel getting ready for Hell.  Why?," he said into the small device, "Oh fuck you too.  Let me know how fluffy of a cloud coke whores get when you're there... Wait... Miami?  What the fuck is in Miami besides old people and Cubans?  Lex's gym?... and you're working on getting your pasty ass a tan?  Alright, fine god damn it.  This ain't going to go over well."

He hung over the phone, looking at Melissa as she was getting up now and not looking to be the least bit happy.  Whatever the conversation was about, he knew she was not going to like the whole thing and he was going to do his damnedest to convince her.  "What's the white trash want this time?," she said as she brushed at the leg of her pants.  He held the phone out to her to take, because she had a call to make herself now, "Better call Bianca and tell her she's going to be getting some extra in her check.  We're going to Miami."

---

Miami at Dusk

Various cities around the country have nicknames given to them by the tourist industry to give them a sense of identity.  New York is the "city that never sleeps," Las Vegas is known as "Sin City," and Los Angeles having the title of "City of Angels," to play off of its English translation.  Miami did not have one, not that he was aware of anyway.  He was tempted to anonymously submit one though, "the beach that just happened to have a city built on it."  A bit lengthy and drawn out, but it did well to summarize the land.

To his right, a land of sand and sea.  The orange and purple horizon of dusk hanging overhead.  The spectrum of colors mixed with the beaming neon from the beachside resorts and clubs on his left.  Miami Beach at sunset and they were right there.  Electronic music pumped out in beating flows behind them, glasses and chattering from a counter ahead of them.  He could see the back of woman's head from here.

"I better call to make sure everything's ok," said Melissa more to herself then him while taking her phone out of her jean shorts.  Xavier watched as the screen lit up with a push of a button as she started dialing the number of the nanny he hired to watch their daughter.  Her wrapped his palm over her hand, stopping her from finishing, "Mel, she's alright.  Everything's all right.  We're in Miami in the middle of spring, a sunset over there.  Relax and enjoy it.  When was the last time you can say we actually did that?"

A sigh of resignation from her as she slipped the phone away which was nothing short of a relief.  A slight breeze pushed at the open collar of his shirt, pressing the blue silk against his skin further.  It was not summer yet, but he could smell it hanging in the air.  In a way, he had lied to her.  He would have much rather preferred staying in New York.  It was familiar to him, it was what he knew so what change any kind of scenery when it was not necessary?  He had a match, an opportunity to prepare for, winning this week would give him a title shot.  The lowly Xtreme title, but a title nonetheless.  With that being said, he'd rather continue training and getting his body back into top form after the long break from wrestling they both took than walking around some damned beach.

But Shane.  Shane.  Shane.  Shane.  She called and wanted them, both of them, to come down there and for some reason she could not or would not get into over the phone.  What was so damned important that it could not wait for Monday in Indianapolis?  He just could not figure it out.  Rather than admit ignorance, he masked his confusion under the disguise of the calm relaxed Xavier.  If Melissa saw him uneasy about the situation, she would be just as uncomfortable.  She was already chomping at the bit to get the first flight back home to make sure Kelsey was not starving to death or whatever it was that mothers worried about while they were adjusting to not being around their child for the first time.  If she sensed that he was calm and relaxed, she would at least attempt to mirror him just to keep him happy.

Xavier trailed his hand down her back, curling his fingers around her waist to pull her close.  He could feel the muscles within her body loosen from the taught anxiety, a moan from her throat as she curled against his body as they walked forward towards the open bar's counter.  "Ready to annoy the living shit out of her?," he said with a nod at the woman at the counter with her back to them.  "Always," she answered back with a laugh.

Closer they walked, within feet of her back after a matter of seconds. "Well howdy, Shane," exclaimed Xavier drawing curious looks from a few patrons in the immediate area, quickly looking away to ignore him once they perceived him to be nothing more than a tourist dickhead.  Shane looked over her shoulder to him, rolling her eyes once her fears of it being him were confirmed.  "Now listen, Shane.  I know this is a new experience for you, being at a bar without Skynard playing on a jukebox, but it's time you opened yourself to the rest of the world where sayings like 'Would ya hold tha' spittin' bucket up for me a bit?  Mine art'ritis been playin' hell wit' muh distance.'"

"Xavier... Mel," said Shane as she spun around slowly in the stool she sat in, eyeing them both with a sneer, "Well if it isn't my favorite inbreeders.  I think you two came a little far south for you two to feel right at home.  Arkansas is that a way."  She pointed to the side to the west as she said the Arkansas wisecrack.  Xavier laughed softly, parting his body from Melissa's, "Hey hon, get me something to drink would you while I figure out what the hick wanted us to come down her for."  "God," said Melissa with a roll of the eyes, "You better hope I don't get carded.  What am I, your beer runner?"

She did not wait for him to answer.  It was more of a release of her aggravation with his weekend alcoholism.  Giving the young woman a look of disgust, Shane watched her walk further down the bar before following Xavier in the other direction.  "Jealous of her?," he joked, "You had your chance a couple years ago."  Shane stifled the gagging reflex that was natural to her when remembering that part of their past, "Don't flatter yourself hoss, just trying to figure out how someone like you would start banging his sister."

"Someone like me," he mused.  Sand under there feet now, he looked behind them to make sure they were out of ear shot of everyone at the bar, "Almost enough for me to get all teary-eyed and nostalgic and all that shit.  Now Shane, do you mind telling me why I left my daughter with some lady whose only English includes shit like 'Si Mr. Michaels.  I do that already,' to come down here when we couldn't just talk at the show Monday?"  Shane stopped dead in her tracks now, leaving him to take a couple steps ahead and turn around as they talked face to face now.  Waves lapped and crashed behind him, the sound rippling through his ears, "Doom's Day is looking good for us.  If all goes like they should this week, all of us except Lex will be getting a shot of gold.  We have to all get together and coordinate this.  You, me, Lex, Thorn... and I'm guessing your little incest princess over there."

He scoffed, unable to contain his disdain for a thought that had finally occurred to him, "So I have to be the social team player?  Great.  Call me anti-social, but I don't like people.  You know that, and people don't like me.  See how it balances out?  Mel and her fucking college psychology shit, said it's social anxiety or whatever the fuck.  Fine, whatever.  I'll play and hold up my end.  I'll go through this Chaos twat then Daniels at Dooms Day for that belt.  Just you make sure you handle your shit and take down Fugly Thugly or whatever the fuck she calls herself."

"You really think she can handle all this?," Shane said with a nod to the approaching Melissa with Xavier's beer in hand.  "Not a doubt in my mind," he smirked, "She's tougher than she looks."