The Perfect Opportunity

Meet me at suite 3 in a few hours. Gonna clean up n sleep then well hang out, k?

That was easy enough.

Everything was easy enough. Morrigan knew how to get the things she wanted and with "friends" in high places, it was no trouble to get the locker room's master keys and get hold of Taylor's phone. She sent out a mass text to the close friends of the blonde. The ones that were in Atlantic City. The only one she was worried about was her husband but if she sent it as a batch, then maybe the silver haired boy toy would just go along with it. He wasn't really the brightest crayon in the box. All she needed was a few hours alone with Taylor to settle things. There was no doubt that Taylor would want to at least rest a little bit after being brutalized once she came out from the infirmary. That was the hardest part. Making sure she DID come out of the infirmary. If Taylor had been murdered, she'd be stuck there until she recovered. She may even be put in the hospital and that wasn't going to work.

Getting a copy of her room key was also doable and that was why she now sat in the perfectly cooled suite with the lights dimmed just nicely. She was sitting in one of the opulently upholstered chairs with a long stem glass filled with some ridiculously expensive deep red wine in one hand, enjoying the fruits of someone's labor many many decades ago. In her other hand, she was twirling a pair of handcuffs around her finger. She had gotten them as a gift for Taylor and smiled at the thought. She had other things in mind for the blonde as well and was quite excited to see Taylor's reaction to them. Of course there was some air they had to clear away first. That was also an exciting thought.

This had been a long time coming. Too long, perhaps.

The real miracle of that night was that Taylor did not have a concussion. She didn't believe the medics at first and pressed them to tell her the whole truth, but in spite of the many hard shots she had taken, her brain remained intact. She had a notoriously hard head, and there was nothing too fragile up there. Her head was like somebody's dumpy apartment where you could put your feet up and not worry about ruining anything. It was hard to do any real damage. There were no suede couches in there.

Her talent for taking a beating and healing quickly was never more apt than tonight. The AFW staff cleaned her up, mopped the gallons of blood off her face and shoulders and chest and rinsed her hair, so that only the red highlights that were supposed to be there were left. None of the cuts required stitches, though she was bummed by the split lip. It would make it impossible to lazily make out with Johnny before falling asleep. She had the beginnings of a black eye, but a black eye to her was more a fashion accessory than an injury.

Her neck, though, was... not great. Without the adrenaline and the strain of the match, it had begun to swell, and it hurt. She had very limited mobility, like there were razor blades wedged between her vertebrae. She'd be asleep soon one way or another, but with the condition of her neck it wouldn't be very comfortable. She'd have to thank Adrian for that. She wondered what, if any, lasting marks she had left on her opponent. Was she in as bad of shape as Taylor was, or did Taylor somehow get the worst of it, even in victory?

With her damp hair in a simple pony tail, wearing a loose black sweatshirt and little retro-y gym shorts with sneakers she'd left untied, she set out to make the short walk across the courtyard to the hotel. Her eyes wandered over a row of cherry trees that flanked a fountain in the middle of the square while she walked, and a moment later she was on her way up to her room. She didn't have all of her stuff, but probably Johnny or Junko had grabbed it and was already there, waiting for her to finish getting patched up.

She swiped her key card through the slot and pushed open the door when the little light turned green. By the dim lighting, she figured that maybe Johnny was there already, waiting to treat her to a victory massage or something. Instead, she saw Morrigan, sitting with a glass of wine like some kind of weird Bond villain, and holding...

Handcuffs.

Instantly, Taylor was on edge and ready to fight, though it was the last thing on earth she wanted to do. Fighting was also the last thing in the world she wanted to do with Morrigan, her former assistant that she had wounded so terribly in a fit of rage, though... by the looks of it, Morrigan had probably come up with something she wanted even less than that.

"Hey, Morgan." The words came out sounding comically non-nonchalant. What else could she say?

Morrigan took a sip of wine when Taylor said her name. She then grinned devilishly at Taylor. It was hard not to giggle. Everything had been so perfect. She looked at Taylor up and down.

"You look like shit." She said wryly. "It was fun to watch you get your ass kicked. Actually, it was pretty fun to watch Adrian get her ass beat too. Two people I hated, beating the shit out of each other. I almost jerked off to it." She said crudely, finally laughing at her own joke.

"Have a seat." She said, motioning to the bed, commanding more than suggesting. "You're probably exhausted. It sure would suck if someone came looking for a fight with you right now." Morrigan said, still twirling her handcuff. "I mean, if someone wanted to do that, then I guess you'd have to try and run or fight. That doesn't seem like that's going to happen. I guess you COULD wait for someone to come help you too." Morrigan looked past her at the door.

"Well, I'm sorry to say that it's just you and me. You won't see them for a very long time. I've seen to that. You see, I'm cashing in my chips." She said. "I told you I would wait and pick my moment and I've done a lot of thinking. Now it's time to settle things between you and I once and for all."

"Get comfy, Taylor. You're going to be here for a while."

Taylor's upper lip curled into a distasteful sneer, and her heart pounded in her chest. Her stomach was sick with dread, but her face showed none of it. She looked so calm she might have been bored with Morrigan and her handcuffs.

"Well if it's just you, I've got nothing to worry about," she said coolly, mostly because she was sure she could take Morrigan in a fight regardless of her present condition, but also because a small part of her thought that maybe Morrigan wouldn't be able to go through with whatever it was she thought she was doing. She knew Morrigan cared about her, in whatever way the little Irish demon's heart could manage. Or at least she used to.

"I'm pretty comfortable standing," Taylor said, and stubbornly folded her arms across her chest. "Say what you wanna say."

Morrigan laughed sharply at Taylor's bravado and took another sip of wine as she looked at the ragged blonde. "There's no need for you to act so fucking tough." Morrigan said. "If I want to kick your ass, I'll kick your ass. We both know it. I know when you're tough and when you're acting tough, Taylor. You see, I know a lot about you. You let me into your life and into your home. I pay attention to the people around me. I study them and make sure that I understand them. Understand them better than they understand themselves if that's possible. That's the job of a servant, after all."

Morrigan scowled. 'I'm GOOD at my job too. Or, was. Even LUKRETIA didn't fire me! You? You fired me for some BULLSHIT! I think whatever passed between us outside of our employment... all the stuff in the ring wasn't anything compared to what YOU did to ME!"

Morrigan took a moment and rubbed her temples before she leaned back in her seat. "The smart thing to do was to just beat your ass as soon as the chance came. Wreck you and wreck your career and just FUCK you!"

"But I wanted to think things through rationally and figure out the best thing I could do. The best way to deal with all the situations I had to deal with. To sort out everything in my life and I think I've come to a good place with everything."

Morrigan smiled at Taylor. "Lilith and I have taken the next step in our relationship. We're no longer lovers, we're dating... for real." Morrigan beamed and her face became girlish for a moment. "She said she loved me!"

Morrigan's eyes fluttered dreamily for a second and her cheeks flushed. "I've told Lukretia I'm no longer interested in working for her. I've gotten over her. Maybe not completely and I still keep in touch with Macha and Babd but I don't think I'll ever put on a maid's uniform again for her. I can't live my life obsessed with someone who doesn't even care about me."

Morrigan tilted her head. "And you know what she said?" Morrigan asked rhetorically. "She said I made a decision I'll probably come to regret. But that I had made a correct decision and she wishes me the best... if I can make it through everything."

Morrigan laughed sharply and then narrowed her eyes at Taylor. "So... now that just leaves... you."

Maybe Morrigan was right, and Taylor was just acting tough, but that was all anyone could do. It wasn't until shit went down for real that you found out who really was tough.

But try as she might to keep up her poker face, Morrigan's words quickly disarmed her and left her gutted. She could only hang her head in shame. She actually rated below Lukretia, and she wondered how on earth she could go on living. Could she ever live this down? It was a grim sort of comedy that a two-minute outburst could end up costing her for years. How unfair was that?

She lifted her eyes to look at the vengeful girl, though it hurt her to look her in the eye.

"Morgan..." She said. "I'm sorry. There's just... I don't know how to say it other than just I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Since you've studied me, you know how I am, and... how I can do things that..." She shook her head at the floor. "I'm sorry."

She lifted her eyes again to meet Morrigan's and continued with something like hope in her voice, even if she knew it didn't belong there. "And what about me? You can't live with someone who doesn't care, but what about the people that do? Morg, there's no way you can even pretend that I didn't. That I don't. So what about me?"

Morrigan smiled at Taylor's words, drinking them in. When she was finally finished, Morrigan set the glass of wine down and started to laugh. The chuckle was giddy, effervescent and bubbling over. It wasn't the mad cackle of a deranged lunatic but rather the giggling of someone who had just heard a very funny joke. Morrigan had and the joke was Taylor.

"That's right, what ABOUT you?" She said standing up. "I don't know if I should accept your apology or not but I DO know you mean it. And I'm sure it's been eating you up since that day. You're a big, mushy idiot." Morrigan sad casually. "How ANYONE could actually think you're tough for one minute is really just laughable." Morrigan smiled at Taylor.

"But." She said. "I thought it over very carefully. Accepting your apology would be difficult. What would happen then? Well..." Morrigan said as she took the cuffs in her hand and tossed them at Taylor. "I guess I'd like to find out. There's a little gift for you." She said. "So the next time I fuck Lilith on your bed, I won't have to use 'your' handcuffs. I got them inscribed. I went with 'bad girl at work' and your initials. TP not TH in case you bring them to the ring or something. I also thought about 'Mamma's little helper' but that seemed weird even to me." Morrigan shrugged.

"Anyway," She said as she looked down and blushed. "Your apology is stupid and you're pretty stupid too, falling for that I'm going to beat you up and rape you crap. You'd have probably liked it anyway. We both know you want my body." Morrigan looked up at Taylor, adjusting her glasses and trying to stay stone faced as possible.

"This was probably a shitty time to do this but I like making your life a living hell." Morrigan smiled softly as she adjusted her glasses again, almost subconsciously. "I'm glad you won... but I still liked watching you get your ass kicked," she said, turning her head as her blush deepened, "just so we're clear."

Taylor raised an arm just enough to deflect the handcuffs, but couldn't move quick enough to catch them. They fell to the floor at her feet, and she pulled back a step as if they might still somehow bite her. She wasn't afraid of Morrigan, though. Well, she wasn't afraid of fighting her. She wasn't even really afraid of what she'd say.

She moved to the other chair and eased herself into it with a grimace. She had taken some painkillers back in the infirmary, enough to take the edge off, but she declined any of the stronger stuff. She didn't like the idea of being numb.

"Can you just..." Taylor began, but paused abruptly. Her throat constricted, and her face softened, and it took her a moment to be able to speak again. "Can you just please cut the shit and say what you really want to say to me? I can't take this, Morg, I just can't. For a dyke, you sure do a fuck-ton of dicking around. I mean, you know how stupid I am. Spell it out for me like I'm five." She said, while blinking away tears.

"Geeze. I forgot." Morrigan said as she watched Taylor sit down. "I accept your apology, dumbass."

While the words lingered in the air, Taylor's lip quivered pitifully, and then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"If you're... serious," she gasped between violent, halting breaths. "Come hug me."