001 [svw]

"I watched the entire show from start to finish other than the match that directly followed mine." Her voice came out hollow as she took a small sip from her bottle of water, wishing she'd brought one from the place she'd been forced to call home for the last two years. At least then she could have topped it up with vodka and made this experience more pleasant.

"And how was it, Kaitlynn?" The cultured accent annoyed her more today than it usually did. His name was Jegede and she'd been coming to him for a few weeks now, ever since her last doctor had up and vanished in the middle of the night.

"I expected change," she said softly, "and really, I guess I expected something more than..."

"What happened?" The doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees as he looked at her.

She shook her head, not even knowing how to put it into words. The landscape of SVW had changed vastly since she'd last set foot in their ring. When she'd called Femme Fatale Wrestling up on her phone, she was surprised to see only a handful of names on the roster that were familiar and it depressed her more than it really should. Curling up and dying inside was what she felt like doing. The whispers still echoed in her ears, the muffled jeers that had seemed to follow in her wake. "You should have seen the look in his eyes," Showtime had been floored to see her again. "There was a spark of recognition the second we collided. He knew the truth and by the end of it, so did those pathetic sheep in the seats— that's all that matters, really. And it feels good to be back doing what I love."

"But?"

"I saw him... I mean, he opened the show so I watched him on television and it..." she swallowed hard, closing her eyes against the prickle of tears. "He looks older... he looked so tired and that's my fault. I was hoping to get out of there without running into him— the second he showed up, I wanted to leave. I realized coming back here was a mistake. I should have gone somewhere else. Anywhere else." Her voice broke. "The last thing I wanted to do was look into his eyes—"



Smirking, Kitty finally pulled herself up off the couch and started stuffing her soiled gear back into her bag. Her boots she kept on her feet because they were far too swollen for the Louboutins she'd arrived in, forsaking practicality for the comfortable clicking sound they made in the hall— that echo had always resonated with her, even though she'd arrived long before anyone else had simply to keep the secret until the very last second. Now she couldn't wait to put at least a million miles between herself and the memories this place had dredged to the surface.

It took all her self control not to reach for her phone, punching in those digits she'd had to force herself to forget over the last two years. The longer she lingered now, the less chance she had of running into anyone. Finally, she was ready and turned towards the door as she tossed the bag over her shoulder. Stepping out into the hall, she very nearly collided with someone.

"I am terribly sorry, Mi—" The fellow said as he walked into her, not even looking up to see who it was at first. But as he raised his head to see, the words died in his throat as Alexander Stryfe looked at the form of his ex-wife's face, which he hadn't seen in some time, much less planned to in the manner he just did. "Kaitlynn…" he corrected himself, this was no production assistant obviously. Formalities were useless.

She opened her mouth to reply but no sound came out. The very last person she'd hoped to see right now was standing in front of her, looking precisely like he'd just seen a ghost— she'd been hoping to avoid a scene like this from the moment he'd appeared to open the show. Suddenly it was early 2012 all over again and she felt that emotion squeezing her chest until it ached. She remembered that horrible little diner and the way he'd slapped those incriminating photos on the table, laying down his ultimatum. "Alex." She finally forced his name out, a thousand emotions packed into the syllables even as she broke eye contact with him. She licked her lips, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and the door to the parking lot that lay right behind him.

Alex searched for something to say, anything really. He'd never encountered a situation like this in his life, no one he knew had. All that came through his mind was the last two years, including the media's comments about her funeral, the jabs he took from her friends, the personal mission he went on to repay the man he thought had taken his entire family from him. He had no brother. He thought he had no former wife as well. But there she was. The silence hung awkwardly before he managed to find something, ".......welcome back." Whether he meant to wrestling or to the land of being alive was anyone's guess. And were he asked, he'd have a hard time deciding which way he meant it as well.

She nodded absently; looking as though she was trying to decide which way was the best escape route before the silence began to eat at her. "I…" she swallowed hard, shaking her head as she trailed off. Missed him? Still loved him more than anything? Could explain away the last two years in a few casual words? Not even remotely. "I have to go," she finally said, although she made no effort to move away from her spot, almost cowering against the wall. A small part of her wished for some romantic moment where he would sweep her into his arms and kiss her like nothing had changed. Instead they were more like strangers with a sordid past and the look in his eyes, that pained shock was cutting right through her.

It was easily the most awkward conversation he could ever recall having in his entire lifetime. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or mad, elated or enraged. There was too much to process right now for him, and the words never found his voice as he pushed his hand against the cold metal door handle, opening it for her. He didn't know what to say, but the only thing he could agree to do internally was at least hold the door as she disappeared again. He would have been an excellent poker player, as his face showed little emotion one way or another. He'd always been that way. All he knew now was to hold the door. Let her vanish again.

"Thank you," the words came out automatically, more ingrained in her than any other simply due to her upbringing although her voice came out small and breathless. Before the situation could grow any worse on the awkward scale, she ducked her head and slipped past him into the night. The familiar scent of her Jimmy Choo perfume lingered in the air for a moment in the wake of her passage before that was gone as well.

Alex watched as she disappeared into the night. The only thought that came to mind at that point was at least he watched her leave this time. He saw where she went, even if he had no idea where she came from. The only thing he could muster was repetitious, to say the least.

"Welcome back."