“Three bruised ribs, one cracked; not to mention the light sprain in your left wrist, tweaked neck, and the myriad of bruising all over your body. You were lucky to get out of it with no internal bruising or lasting damage. You’ve reaggravated all your injuries from that ridiculous pay-per-view you just did for your company; I order you to take four weeks rest, you turn around and wrestle a week and a half later. Tell me, Miss Granger; if you have no desire to let yourself rest and heal, why are you here?”

Betsy’s head hangs lower and lower in her shame and guilt as Dr. Pateel tears her a new asshole. The other is a tiny, no-nonsense Indian woman with hair pulled back in a thick bun and brown eyes that scrutinized everyone they landed on. Presently, they were narrowed and hard, looking at Betsy’s golden mane as it hides her face during the tirade. Impatience kicks in as she crosses her arm and taps her foot rapidly on the cold, hard tile floor. Feeling as though she were being reprimanded in front of the entire class, Betsy’s shoulders begin to tremble as the pain continues to throb mercilessly throughout her. Gathering up her courage, she looks up at Dr. Pateel with determination in her eyes; when she speaks, her voice is tight and full of contrition. “Quite right you are, doctor, I can do better.”

Dr. Pateel narrows her eyes even further, causing a deep crease to form between her eyebrows. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you, Miss Granger.”

Biting her tongue from a scathing reply, Betsy keeps her tone even as she implores the perceptive doctor. “I’m committed to getting myself back in working condition, doctor. You have my word; whatever you say as far as my healing process is concerned is the word of the law. Just lay it down on me.” She mentally crosses her fingers as the face of Corey Smith floats to the forefront of her mind and their impending match on the next Wednesday Night Warfare for the XWF.

Dr. Pateel stares into her face for several uncomfortable moments that drag on like eons. Determined not to look away first, Betsy attempts to keep eye contact maintained, but Dr. Pateel was no rookie to this game. Shifting on the bed, crinkling the protective paper underneath her, Betsy finally drops her emerald eyes in defeat. Sighing loudly, Dr. Pateel taps her pen on the clipboard containing Betsy’s patient file and taps her on the shoulder to get the younger girl to look at her again. When she does, Betsy can see that Dr. Pateel’s eyes have softened just slightly and she wears an expression of cautious optimism. “You’ll have to start from the beginning: four weeks of rest. No working out, no wrestling, no heavy lifting; I hope that handsome young man out there is up to the task of taking care of you.” Betsy nods, her heart fluttering knowing that no one would care for her better. Dr. Pateel seems satisfied with this. “Good; speaking of him, for the first two weeks at least, try to avoid having sex as much as you can. I know, the struggle is real, but I think two adults in a healthy relationship can manage that. It falls under over-exertion and you don’t need that at the moment.”

“If you want to be a thorough doctor, you could file it under ‘heavy-lifting’ as well.” Betsy jests, unable to help herself. This is rewarded with a disapproving glance from Dr. Pateel; swallowing back the laugh that was attempting to bubble up from her throat, she allows her face to grow serious once more.

“I want to see you again in four weeks, Miss Granger. Four, count them. I don’t want you coming back early again because you couldn’t stay out of the ring and let your body heal. If you go against my orders this time, don’t bother coming back. I don’t have time for patients who come in for help then blatantly disregard what I tell them.”

Before Betsy could form an intelligent rebuttal, Dr. Pateel had written her a prescription for painkillers and briskly exited the room. Betsy sat alone now in the small examination room, still reeling from the snappish behavior from her doctor. On the one hand, she could completely see the doctor’s point of view; she had come to this woman for help, then turned around put herself in a situation she knew would backtrack the healing of her injuries sustained at March Madness. But the flip side of that coin was a tricky bitch; everything inside of her was pumped and ready for more. Despite the pain that reminded her constantly that she was still suffering minor injuries, Betsy Granger wasn’t the stagnant type, and sitting around to heal wasn’t exactly her specialty. Sighing deeply, Betsy collects her belongings and after checking out, slinks through the shaded doors to the brightly lit Canadian afternoon. Slipping her mask off, she walks gingerly towards the car, where James was waiting for her.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks, taking in the mournful look on her face.

“Four weeks of rest and pain pills. She also might have said that if I work again in between those four weeks, I should find a new primary.” James holds open the door for her helps her into the leather, bucket seat of his flashy sportscar. “Your guys wouldn’t happen to have any openings for new patients, would they?”

She’s met with a disapproving frown as James shuts the door, leaving her question unanswered. Her green eyes follow him through the windshield as he makes his way around to slip in behind the wheel. The engine gives a sexy roar when he turns the key; once they’ve zipped out of the parking lot and onto the city street, James clicks his tongue against his teeth a few times. His fingers drum against the stick shift under his palm; recognizing that he was deep in thought, Betsy looks out the window at the city passing by in a blur, allowing her own thoughts to poke their way through. Two tough losses in a row ate away at her; the physical injuries she’d sustained from them had ironically become the insult. Now she had been chosen by another member of Continuum as a challenge; in the head-rush of the moment, she’d accepted the match without hesitation. Her ego had been slaked and vanity purred softly in her ear of continuing the meteoric rise that has been her career thus far. Now she couldn’t help but chuckle mirthlessly to herself; for the second time, since staring into the alarmingly bright eyes of King Doc across the ring as the bell rang, did Betsy feel as though she’d finally bitten off more than she could chew.

“Earth to Betsy,” James says softly, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.

Jumping more from her abrupt return to reality than pain, she turns towards him, her gaze apologetic. “Sorry, love, I was-”

“Lost in your thoughts again; believe me, I know that look by now, Bets.” he takes his eyes off the road for a moment to flash her a warm grin. “Did you want to share with the class?”

“I don’t even know where to start. I should be riding some kind of high after March Madness, right? Yet the only thing that’s met me so far is a loss and another daunting challenge. A lot of folks would argue that my loss against Lycana hardly counts, given the circumstances; but my win-loss record doesn’t care for technicalities. My ribs made it hard enough to enter the ring, I’ll never tell how much it actually hurt to work that match, but it had to be done in the name of the fight. But it does bring me to this entire business with Atara is absolute nonsense; but whatever helps her sleep at night. Speaking of which,” Betsy says, shooting James a sideways glance from under her eyelashes, “you could be a little less friendly with her, considering she’s made it no secret she’d pounce on you if given half the chance... Not to mention all the garbage lately about holding her back, shank me in the eye, blah fucking blah. But far be it for me to dictate your social circle.” She hated herself the moment the words were out of her mouth; the level of passive-aggressiveness made her cringe.

“Be less friendly? But she’s... a friend?” James responds his words chosen carefully and spoken just as softly. "I've always humored her, whether it was a challenge to a fight or a request to pop off my shirt. It never seemed to be a problem before, but now that there’s a chance that she might seriously try something, do I not factor into the equation here? I don’t feel like I’m suddenly less trustworthy just because Shawn is out of the picture.” He knows that wasn’t her implication, so he takes a long, quiet breath before his tone could grow any more defensive. That was until he caught the pout on her lips and the narrowing of her eyes; it flickered there for only a moment, but it was long enough for him to catch. He felt his own temper flare now and his voice grew harder. “It doesn’t matter what she would do to me if given half the chance; she’ll never get one. It doesn’t matter if I banter with her on Twitter or not.” He debates over his next words for a few moments, deciding not to hold his tongue this time. “And I’m sorry that she’s threatening you, but it’s the world we live in. Nearly every ally I’ve ever had has threatened to kill me at one time or another, her included. And wasn’t it only a few weeks ago that you wanted me to play nice with Alias while he actively threatened me in front of you?”

Her face scrunches as she quietly concedes to this point; she couldn’t deny the fact that her budding friendship with Alias meant certain complications as far as James went. But for her sake, he’d been willing to put aside any hostility to hear Alias out and speak his side of the story. There’s still a childish pout in her voice when she finally speaks again. “You’ve got me there... It never bothered me before; she had Shawn and they were happy. I thought this time they were stable, so much for that; but I’ll be damned if she thinks she’s going to bedhop between Legacy members. She’ll have to kill me to get to you.”

Catching the slight growl in her tone, James fights back the grin that tugs at his lips as understanding sinks in. “Aw, Bets, don’t tell me you’re actually jealous or something?” his tone is playfully taunting, earning him a thunderous look from his blonde paramour. The grin breaks free across his face; reaching out, he plunges his fingers into her hair and massages her scalp tenderly. “You know you’re the only one for me.”

Her expression softens and her green eyes glow with warmth and relaxation. “I’m not jealous... I’m pissed off and perplexed. History always repeats itself and she’s no exception; save for this time, you add me to the mix. And the worst part is... Something feels off about all of it. This sudden aggression towards me, these ridiculous complaints about holding her back. Bitch, please; we all know she’s just sulking because I proved to be a break-out star and she’s as wishy-washy as she is thirsty. She had a shot at the title and lost... I stepped up, whoops, my bad. If she wants this strap, she’ll have to take it off my corpse... and that goes double when it comes to you.” She takes his hand as he pulls into the driveway of their home and gives it a generous lick. He scrunches his nose and laughs, catching the point of her gesture. “Getting serious again for a moment... something is amiss and I don’t like it. It’s like when you can tell a storm is coming; the air pressure changes and your senses kick into overdrive. Not everything is what it seems, and I think she’s a part of that somehow. And I intend to figure it out.” James quietly listens as he turns the car off and sits back in the driver's seat. He remains silent for a while after she finishes her rambling, now deep in his own thoughts. Moments tick by like hours as Betsy waits for him to say something... anything would do at this point. For some reason, this silence was beginning to play at her anxiety, sending her stomach into nauseating flutters of panic. Unable to handle the silence any longer, she begins to ramble further. “Now I have this match with Corey Smith, who is regarded as the measuring stick for potential in the XWF; mind you, I sort of bypassed him when I came in, but I suppose I’m due. He’s no slouch in the ring, so his reputation is well-founded. He runs with Thad and Doc D’Ville; the latter of which now has an even further dangerous influence and hold over the XWF. The relief in this is that I don’t believe Corey to have the same intentions or inclinations as the King. I’ve never had the impression that he dwells on darkness and staring into the void of his soul to operate his day-to-day doings. But he did choose me for this bout as if I didn’t have enough of a chip on my shoulder as of late... Now I can’t stop second-guessing everything: Should I carry through with this match and risk aggravating these injuries further? Do I cancel for the sake of my health and risk looking like a coward? No matter what I do, it looks like I have a lose-lose situation on my hands and I hate not having a clear enough head to figure out a solution.” She slams at the door with her fist out of frustration, quickly crying out as pain reverberates through her torse from the quick movements. Silence hangs between them once again before James finally exits the car.

Moving quickly to her side before she could attempt to rise on her own, James opens the door and lifts her out gingerly. Gently putting her arm over his shoulders, he takes her carefully around the waist as he pushes the door shut behind him. Slowly, they work their way inside the home and he helps her down into the comfortable couch in their entertainment parlor. With the greatest care, he helps her out of her light spring jacket and sneakers; once he’s finished, he joins her on the couch and lies back, easing Betsy gently on top of him. The top of her head lies just below his chin and he plants a gentle kiss on the top of her head, entwining his fingers into hers in both hands. Relief hits like a wave and she swallows back the lump that tries to form in her throat as her body begins to relax against him. The painkillers are beginning to make her feel even woozier as her eyes begin to flutter. But before sleep could carry her away, James’ voice cuts through the now comfortable silence, making her momentarily alert.

“I want you to know, right off the bat, that I agree with your doctor; you should be taking it easy on yourself. It would be smart of you to call off this match with Corey and take it easy on yourself, as Dr. Pateel has recommended in her expert opinion. However,” the sternness in his tone disappears as he continues. “You and I are too much alike for me to realize that you’ll never sit out when you should. So, the first thing you have to remember is that Corey isn’t unbeatable; it doesn’t matter who the fuck he runs with, you have everything it takes to walk away the victor... Except for your full bill of health. This is where that brilliant mind for strategy you possess comes into play. You know how to move pieces to work in your favor and you know what needs to be shifted. I’ve never known you to be so unsure about which route to take... Don’t let this loss to Lycana rattle you, and definitely don’t let Atty get under your skin. It doesn’t matter why she’s got an issue with you; she’s made it very clear that she does. You need to be prepared for her and Osira to jump you at any time now.”

“Can’t fucking trust anybody.” Betsy says bitterly, the fresh bruises from Atara’s attack throbbing as a reminder of her former friend's recent betrayals. “Not that I wasn’t warned by my original rivals that this wouldn’t happen. The path leading to this didn’t go as they expected, the result stayed exactly as they said it would. At least with opponents like Miss Fury, Lycana, and even Jenny Myst, there is a basic grasp of why they wouldn’t like me. There are legitimate reasons to engage in hostile actions, but this...” Betsy shakes her head mournfully. “Things go to shit between her and Shawn and she snaps at my neck. Blames me for her lack of direction and motivation. Attempts to shame me for stepping up and claiming the spotlight and prizes I’ve earned; doesn’t she know a true goddess never would have allowed her spotlight and prizes to be taken away in the first place?” As she rambles on about Atara once again, James’ eyes narrow in thought. They return to the same place they had gone to in the car, though Betsy doesn’t see the change in his expression this time. “Going toe to toe with Corey was going to be a handful whether I was fully healthy or not. I’m honestly flattered that he wanted this match with me at all, but the timing couldn’t be worse. He deserves me at full power and he’s going to get a weakened, broken version of myself; the spirit is willing, but my ribs are fucked. I’m such an idiot sometimes; why must I fall to the will of my own ambitions? Always have to prove I’m worth my salt, and now look at me. I’ve eaten one loss that I could have avoided; I know how the Left Hand operates... What was I thinking, not preparing for a cameo from Marf? I don’t know what stung worse that night: the loss to Lycana because of my own lack of foresight or the attack from Atara because of my own willingness to believe she and I could still be friends. And my losing to Corey is all but inevitable now; I’m not up to this, James.” Her breathing has become shallow and ragged; tears stream down her face unbeknownst to her. As panic threatens to grip her again, an invisible boulder settles uncomfortably over her chest. “I’ve bitten off more than I can chew this time, and who knows how much more it will cost me? I barely escaped Jenny in that ladder match, let's be real; and who knows when she’ll decide to come back through. You never can tell with those BoB types, and speaking of which, is Atara with them now? Do I have to worry about her showing up to jump me with Them No Good Bastards or Chronic Chris Page himself? What a circus this has become late; BoB soaking up as much limelight as they can while the Left Hand pulls at strings from the shadows. And that’s not to mention that thick air of dread that’s taken over ever since Doc claimed his place as King. He’s always made me uneasy, but ever since March Madness, I can’t shake the feeling of malevolence that permeated from him.” She instinctively rubs the fading yellow bite mark on her neck; the last remnants of her most notable souvenir from their Final Four match. “There are enemies flooding the gates; swarming from all sides and it’s all becoming too much for me to handle. I have very little backup and losing more potential allies every day. I know what I’m capable of and how much I can do on my own... But it’s become overwhelming and I’m losing directions to turn in... people to turn to.” She sits up abruptly; she doesn’t even notice the lack of pain due to the medication. “I don’t mean you or Shawn, either. You have your reasons for staying away and I understand. This isn’t your battle anymore; I’ve taken up the sword and I intend to wield it properly. But I haven’t found my shield as of yet and the number of blows raining down on me is starting to add up.” Green eyes darken with unspoken fear and anxiety as they stare up into concerned brown eyes. “I feel... lost. I’ve always prided myself on being able to take on everything at once; but now that the challenge is being laid out, I’m struggling to keep up. Pressure is weighing down on me and I can feel it threatening to suffocate me any second. One wrong move and it's game over and I’m not going down without a fight; constant vigilance is necessary, but I’m so exhausted. And those are just the problems in the ring...” Now her mind flickers back to the disastrous spa trip she, James, and Shawn had recently made a narrow escape from. “None of them, even the ones who have that spark of the supernatural to them, have any idea of what’s happening beyond this realm. There are forces and powers in the universe that would love nothing more than to wipe out this useless little blue ball for nothing more than sport. How funny, I’ve spent so much time complaining about such trivial enemies like Atty and opponents like Corey when there is something else chasing me; you’d think I’d have my priorities in the correct order. And in that mess, I have literally no one to turn to... I’ve never felt so helpless in my life...” the boulder sinks lower and now she gasps for air desperately.

Squeezing her hand gently and rubbing her back at the same time, James leans in closer and touches his forehead against hers. “Breathe, Bets... Count with me. Backward from ten.” Closing her eyes as tears continue to stream down her face, she nods against him and they begin to count. They do this several times until the violent trembling stops and her gasping sobs become gentle sniffles. Allowing her to count silently to herself, James begins to talk to her in a soft voice. “I’m here, Betsy... I’m always going to be here. You’ll never be alone and you’ll always have me behind you to turn to when you need it. Anything you face, I face it with you. That’s how this works, right? Your fights are my fights, even if I’m not there to fight them directly. That’s the first thing I need you to remember.” Tilting his head slightly, he kisses her tear-stained cheeks. “The second thing you need to realize is there isn’t anything you can’t do or anyone you can’t defeat. I’ve never known a woman less helpless than you; this is only a rough patch and you’ll make it through. Your injuries will heal and you’ll bounce back like nothing ever happened. You'll eat a few losses that you shouldn’t have, but you’ll hardly be remembered for those when someone looks back on your history. You’re amazing, Betsy Granger; there’s nothing in this business you won’t achieve in time. You’ve only just begun to flourish and you still have such a long way to go. I personally can’t wait for when you really take the XWF by storm; they have no idea what they are in for when the Impossible Traveler finally takes her place at the top.” Betsy opens her eyes as James continues and their heads part as he stares at her intensely. Her breathing has returned to normal and a wan smile graces her lips. James stares at her adoringly, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

This last causes her to let loose a bark-like laugh. “Are you kidding; I must look like an absolute wreck right now.” She attempts to hide her face behind her hands, but James grabs her wrists gently and pulls them away. His expression is deadly serious as he takes in her puffy, bloodshot eyes and dripping, red nose as she wipes at it with a tissue.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Bets. Now and always, and don’t you ever forget that either.” Taking her chin gently in his fingers, he leans in and plants a tentative kiss on her lips. The pain meds allow Betsy to respond, melting into his arms as the kiss continues, growing more heated by the moment. Before long, he’s pulled her into his lap; her thighs straddling his tightly around his waist as his hands slide under her shirt and up her back. Without thinking, he tightens his grip and presses her against him tightly; she cries out in agony as sharp pain bursts throughout her ribcage. Stopping dead in his tracks, James quickly shifts her from his lap and is kneeling before her on the floor as she clutches her traitorous ribs. She tries to look away as tears of frustration flood her emerald eyes, but James gently turns her head towards his to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, Bets; the doctor said we should be laying off that anyway, right? I’ve been thinking about this since we left the doctor’s office: why don’t we go to the island for a few days? Just you and me, with nothing but beautiful beach, perfect weather; nothing but peace and quiet for overdue rest and relaxation.”

The island pops into her head then; the clear, calm, perfect aqua waters, breaking gently against soft, white sugar sand. The fragrance of pineapples and coconuts hanging from tree limbs, perfectly ripe and ready for consumption. Crystal blue skies as far as the eye can see with a light smattering of wispy white clouds and bright sunshine that hits your skin with the perfect amount of warmth. The thought of her and James stretched out on soft, large towels basking in the glow of the sun made her smile; she nodded her agreement, leaning forward gingerly to hug him. “That sounds perfect. I can go get Excellence warmed up and...”

Her voice trails off as James places a finger against her lips and shakes his head firmly. “Not this time, Bets; if we do this, we do it the normal way. You need to rest, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Excellence will be here when we get home; for this trip, we take the boat out to the island. There’s no need to rush all the time, baby; let’s just go at our leisure for this one.” He cups his hand over her mouth entirely when she attempts to object again. “No Bets, this time we do this the normal way. Go pack a bag and we’ll head out straight away. I’ll alert the staff so they can start setting things up for us.”

James stays her protests one last time with a firm, but a tender kiss on her lips. Her words turn to a soft moan as her eyes slip shut; they stay shut a few seconds longer after James pulls his face away and walks briskly from the room. Opening her eyes, she looks around and ponders the last hour and the conversation held within and realizes that James was right. Some time away from the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff would do them both a world of good, especially after their horrible experience on Palbara. Where she offered chaos and danger, James offered her peace and tranquility; she would have to be a fool to turn down such an offer. Allowing a smile to spread across her lips as James’ voice floated from the office, businesslike as he made their plans, Betsy rises from the couch carefully and slowly makes her way to their bedroom to pack.

****
****

By the time the warmest rays of sunlight shone down across the land, Betsy, James, and their poodle Muppet were headed across the water towards James’ private island. Water churns behind them as the engines rip through the see-through ocean, heading towards the island that’s a pinprick in Betsy’s field of vision. While James chatted with the crew up in the captain's quarters, Betsy had plopped herself down on the bow and stared forward. It had been forever it seemed since she’d traveled in what she considered the old-fashioned way; now as the blew through her golden hair and salty sea-water splashed her face, she found herself remembering the pleasure to be had in doing things slowly. The soft heat of the tropical sun warmed her bare skin, clad only in a red bikini and sarong. The smell of saltwater and marine life invaded her nostrils; it put to mind memories of fishing with her grandfather on his boat and she smiles. Shifting slightly to keep her legs from falling asleep, she stretches them out in front of her and leans back on her hands, lifting her face up. Heat spreads through her pleasantly, temporarily melting all of her reservations and uphill challenges.

As they get closer to the island, her heart begins to flutter faster; it had been a long minute since they’d last occupied this little haven of tropical paradise. This means it had been entirely too long since they had truly taken time to escape the real world and just revel in each other. She wasn’t ignorant to the fact that things had been a bit tenser between them since she’d started her career anew; it wasn’t intentional of course, but it was there. Despite both of them acting as though nothing about their dynamic had changed, Betsy knew in her heart that James recognized the issue just as much as she had. Today’s spat in the car over Atara had proven that; as the island grew ever nearer, she silently praised her man once more for suggesting this. Not only suggesting it but putting his foot down; she cranes her neck upward for a moment to drink him in through the window of the cabin he occupied. Intense adoration fills her as she turns to look back toward the island; the bright white sand of the shoreline started to grow quickly, as did the aroma of coconut and pineapple in the air. Lowering the brim of her straw sunhat, her emerald eyes begin to take in the brightly colored flowers that added splashes of bright pinks, purples, reds, oranges, and yellows across the lush green foliage. Muppet, who had never made this trek before, jumped up onto the bow with her, settling himself securely against her left side as he lays down beside her. She begins to stroke his curly fur, enjoying the velvety softness under her fingers as she looks beyond the trees.

Coming into view now was the lavish mansion hidden among the breathtaking array of flowers and trees. The exterior had been designed as a proper Swiss Family Robinson tree-house layout, complete with little bridges and swinging ladders. The entrance was gated only by a string of palm trees, the path to the door was made of stucco bricks. On the outside, it looked perfectly modest and quaint, a façade Betsy knew to be extremely misleading. The interior was designed and decorated as modern as you could imagine; having hired the Scott Brothers to renovate this retreat, James' private paradise was set up with just about everything one could ever want or need. Every section of the home was set up as an atrium to allow the natural light to come through. Every bedroom had a theme that was bright and cheery, welcoming guests of all kinds. The main entertaining room, she knew, was his pride and joy of the entire layout; something that never failed to amuse her, given the beauty of the architecture itself. Comfortable lounging furniture and drink tables were set up, as well as a pool and foosball table, dartboard, and the biggest home theater Betsy had ever seen. Three different classic arcade games were set up and available for free play as well; Betsy had spent her fair share amount of time fiddling with the knobs and buttons of Ms. Pacman.

At last, the boat bumps gently against the sugar sand of the island. With an excited yelp, Muppet leaps to his feet and rushes up to the anchor chain, still bound securely to the windlass. Before she could catch him, he’s already bounded over the rail and crashes happily against the water. Laughing as he surfaces, she watches as the silly dog begins to swim play through the waves, barking joyfully at the different fish that swim close to the shore. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she can see the captain motioning for her to get out of the way. Betsy turns and retreats into the bedroom cabin below decks to start grabbing their bags; it isn’t long before James joins her. He’s shirtless, of course, wearing a pair of comfortable swimming trunks and flip-flops. His face darkens in disapproval for a moment before he closes the distance between them. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” He scolds her, though his voice is soft. Ignoring her protests, he relieves her of the bags and sets them down on the bed.

Cupping her head gently in his hands, he pulls her face in for a deep kiss. There was something different in it, a longing she hadn’t felt since their first stolen kiss in England. Her arms tighten around him, gripping at his shoulders as her lips yield completely beneath his. A moan escapes her as his fingers tangle themselves in her hair, crushing his lips to Betsy’s as his tongue meets hers. They melt into one another at the same time, falling onto the bed; James swings carelessly at their travel bags, knocking them with ease to the cabin floor. Rolling over to his back, he pulls her into his arms and runs his hands through her hair, pushing it aside gently as he brings her face down for more kisses. Now they grow softer as he allows his lips to linger against hers gently; her heart begins to race as she grabs his wrists and pushes them down, fitting her fingers between his own and closing them over his hand. Using his incredible upper body strength to push them both up, he frees his hands to wrap around her body again. This time he tugs at the string of her bikini top and she nods quickly, squirming deliciously against him as his fingertips leave an electrifying trail across her skin. Abruptly, Betsy breaks things off, pulling her head away from his. She gazes into his confused eyes as his hand releases the bikini string and starts rubbing her lower back instead. Green eyes fill with love as she gazes down into his brown ones and runs a finger over his lips. “I love you, James. More than I’ll ever be able to show, but I’ll never stop trying.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise at the seriousness in her tone. The smile he flashes her was meant to be sweet, but everything about him at this moment was seductive and intoxicating. “I love you too, Bets, now and forever, and probably beyond that. I told you, I’m yours; that’s never going to change. I promise.” Their lips meet again as overwhelming desire takes hold of them both. The kisses are heated now as what little clothing they had on comes off. Pulling her back down into his lap, they cling to one another tightly as unparallel bliss begins to break through the pain of her injuries. The rest of the world melts away as they lose themselves in one another; an untold amount of time begins to pass as their tender caresses and paces become intense and heated. A sharp pain hits her ribs for a moment, causing her to wince; James stops immediately, his eyes full of worry. Her own emerald eyes narrow as a coy grin crosses her face and she shakes her head, tightening her thighs around his hips and pushing him into her again. A deep groan escapes him as thrusts himself inside of her again; digging her nails into his back as her own arches upward, she draws them down as orgasms begin to explode through her. She can feel him convulse under her touch as his body responds in kind and they both cry out as euphoria fills them both. With one last violent shudder, James rolls over carefully and spreads his arms out, rubbing her taut tummy gently. Pain and pleasure to war at her body as she basks in the afterglow of their love-making. Taking a minute to catch his breath and cool off, James flips over to his side and runs his hand up her body, cupping her breast gently and stroking her nipple with his thumb. Pleasure begins to win as pain goes forgotten once more as he does this absently, their eyes locking as smiles spread across both their faces. “How are you feeling?”

“Positively sublime, darling.” she purrs in response, her voice husky as his nimble fingers continue to play. “Though I can see why Dr. Pateel said we should probably keep this at a minimum.” she inhales sharply when he switches from fingers to mouth. “But what does the doctor know, right?” her breathing quickens as he sucks at her sensitive nipple, sending a fresh ripple of lust through her. A whimper escapes her when he finally stops; with a chuckle, he kisses the tip of her nose and cuddles her up.

“We got away with it this time, but she isn’t wrong Bets. Let's not get carried away just because you felt good enough for it this time around.”

“Let me tell you something, mister; with the pain meds she has me on, we could do it every hour on the hour and my body wouldn’t even know the difference.”

This earns her another soft chuckle and a kiss on the forehead. “It would when the meds wore off and you ran out of them on the second day. We’re here to take it easy, Bets; we can make up for lost time later. Why don’t we just enjoy each other’s company this time around? We could be the old couple who just sits on a beach and reads together.”

The image brings a smile to her face; turning to him, she nods and curls up against him, suddenly exhausted. Planting another kiss on the top of her head, he tucks her under the blanket without protest as her eyes drop shut. “Sleep, baby. I’ll take care of the bags; you just get some sleep.”

Too tired to argue, Betsy only nods half-heartedly as her eyes shut completely and sleep takes hold of her with an iron grip...

****
****

“I still can’t believe you chose me. Ah, my apologies, I didn’t mean to start off by sounding like an Ash Ketchum fangirl. But when I was told that Corey Smith wanted a shot at Betsy Granger, I about fell out of my chair. I learned rather quickly that most of the new talent that goes through this place usually goes through the test of Corey Smith upon entering the doors. I’m aware it’s not an actual rule of thumb in the XWF, but you do have a way of setting the bar. I wish I could find something negative to say about you for this thing, but I’ve got nothing bad to say about you, Corey.

I am sorry our paths haven’t crossed much before now, and while I will thoroughly enjoy the competition you provide; I was rather hoping to touch base with you on much friendlier footing. Not that there has to be anything unfriendly about our match, I just know that you, like myself, are in it to win it. Obviously, that was the most redundant thing I could have said. You have my apologies again; I’m going to attempt to start over one last time and hopefully this time, I’ll say something a touch less asinine. Three... two... one.

It really is an honor to have you choose me as a dance partner. I’ve watched you work for a long time now; I’ve been a fan longer than I’ve been an active participant. Admittedly, I still fall victim to moments of being that hardcore stan that brought me to this point; at the same time, I hope I never lose that sense of wonder. It's what keeps me going and furthermore, it's what makes matches like ours so special for me. I have a lot of people in the XWF that I like, some that I can trust, but very few I have genuine respect for. And while I don’t know you enough to know if I actually like you... something I hope to rectify soon... I do have a great deal of respect for you. Everything you’ve done thus far has left an indelible mark on this place; they use you as a measuring stick for new talent, for fucks sake. And that’s no easy feat for anyone who hasn’t been paying attention in class; the fact that I got off on that particular task up until now has been a bit of a relief. Yeah, I’m not going to lie to you, Corey: the idea of facing you is daunting to me. But the reasons for it have changed dramatically.

If you’d put this on me back in December, even January, I would have trembled in my boots and stumbled my way through some pretty words to hide my anxiety. I wasn’t ready then like I am now, and perhaps that’s why you bided your time. It’s a funny thing, I always know when I’m being watched and I feel that perhaps you’ve had at least one eye on me for a while. I can’t help but wonder how much more of your attention I’ve gained since March Madness... And getting on to that subject, it’s a convenient lead into why the challenge of facing you now has shifted. It’s obvious, to you, to me, to the world, that I am not at one hundred percent. March Madness took a toll on my body and I will admit that perhaps maaaaaaaybe I’ve been going against doctor's orders recently. My match against Lycana could have gone much differently had I been at full capacity; it could be argued that having the interference played a role as well, but I’ve fought them off before.

It’s not an excuse, I promise you that. Whether I’m on my own two feet or crane-lifted into the ring, I’ll be there for this tango. I wouldn’t miss it for the world; as if I’d ever let a few minor injuries stop me. I may not be able to give you one hundred percent of my health, but you’ll still get one hundred percent of what I’ve got. You deserve nothing less from me and I’d be remiss not to deliver the challenge you’re looking for. This fighting spirit will likely be the end of me, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

In closing, for this first piece of banter at least, I’ll say this much: I’m excited to go toe to toe with one of the best the XWF has to offer at the moment. Losing the tag belts at March Madness is barely a smudge in the shine that is Corey Smith. Much bigger awaits you around the corner... I just worry that forces around you would draw you back. I think you know what I’m touching on, but it’s not for me to speak about yet. Just know that if you ever need to turn to new allies or friends... I’m always a call away. I’m not hard to find and I swear to you that my friendship doesn’t come at a price or with an ultimatum attached; hell, let's grab dinner and chat after the show. I’m sure we’ll find plenty to talk about.

James says hey. I don’t know what the deal is with you two, but there’s that.

A lot of people look up to you, including me, and it’s all well-earned; but if they call you the Gatekeeper, you may call me the Key Master.”

****
****

Later that evening, Betsy and James dine in the outer terrace, under the stars. The little Spanish woman who worked as housekeeper and cook had made them a traditional island seafood cuisine that had been to die for. Shrimp in all varieties lay in colorful dishes, surrounded by cocktail sauce, melted butter, and loads of Old Bay. Gigantic crabs were piled up in a large bowl with two metal mallets and shell crushes put out for their use. The exotic blend of spices attacks her tastebuds delightfully, causing her to close her eyes and make little noises of appreciation. James was in a similar state of being as Patricia came back out with a large plate of spit ham. Betsy looks up at the friendly, middle-aged woman and gave her an over-exaggerated chef’s kiss. “This is all so amazing, Trish. Please, won’t you join us? All this work, you should enjoy it!”

Trish shakes her head fervently, her eyes slipping over to James who smiles his agreement. Mumbling something in her native tongue, she lowers her eyes and scurries back to the kitchen. Turning back to James, Betsy looks bewildered. “I don’t know who taught that girl what she knows, but she just said something about never eating above her station. She does realize she isn’t a slave, right?”

James shakes his head, musing over the question. “She’s always been a bit skittish; I don’t know much about her background. I do know that she’s from somewhere near the island and she had a tough life before this. She was just a woman looking for a second chance and I felt inclined to help.”

Betsy’s eyes grow warm as she reaches across the loaded table and takes his hand with a gentle squeeze. He smiles warmly back at her before they both continue their meal. They’ve barely made it through their first course when a bright light from overhead shines blindingly down upon them. Cursing, James shields his eyes and attempts to look upward to see who the offenders were. In the same instance, Betsy feels a shift in the energy around them that sets her pulse racing. Grabbing James, she pulls him towards the indoor dining room as figures begin to emerge from the lights. Ducking inside, she releases him as he matches her pace and they race towards the master bedroom. Once inside, James slams the door shut and turns a wild expression to Betsy. She returns it with a look of terror, just as confused about the intrusion. Peaking from the slats of the blinds, she can see four tall, slender figures splitting up to search for them. “There are four, and they are separating to look for us. It looks like they are armed with military-grade blasters and... Wait a moment...”

The one closest to their bedroom swiveled her elongated neck towards her at that moment; burning yellow eyes meet wide-emerald ones long enough to mark their place. Cursing at her own carelessness, Betsy jumps back from the window as the female begins a brisk pace towards their location. Turning to James, she looks around towards possible exits that wouldn’t put them in the hands of one of the females others. Footsteps begin to echo closer, each shuffle indicating their impending capture. “No, no, no, not here, not now... Why is this happening... why me?”

Sensing her spiraling into a panic attack, James crosses the room and takes her up in his arms. He plants a quick kiss on her lips and looks her deep in her eyes. “It’s time to get it together, Betsy; we aren’t getting out of this one as easily as others. But we will do this together, okay? You and me, we’ll figure out how to make it out of yet another scrape. And hey, maybe this time we’ll find out who the fuck is chasing you and why.” He squeezes her gently, non-verbally urging her to acknowledge him. Her green eyes are full of panic, but he can see the flicker of understanding shoot into them as the female stops outside their door. Nodding her head, they hug tightly before clasping hands and turning towards the door, ready for whatever was to come...

FORMER