003: What Happens in Mexico

It was still not that warm in Canada yet, staying around mid-teens to late single digits, which was less than ideal for the end of April, but in Mexico where he found himself today, it was hot as hell. Having been awake since four in the morning, Matt Stone had already done everything he needed to in order to get ready for his debut match with Phoenix Wrestling. Debuts weren't a speciality of his apparently as he was unsuccessful just days earlier in Lion's Road so it was understandable that he wanted this to go perfectly. The only hitch to that plan was that it wasn't all up to him, he was debuting as part of a tag team with Nessa who, at 10am local time, was still in her hotel room. He knew this because he was standing outside it after getting off the phone with her, having some pre-match ideas to run by her. He knocks on the door, tapping his foot impatiently on the hallway floor as he waited. There was a rustling and then a thump from the other side of the door before the security chain clattered against the wood. The door opened and Nessa blinked blearily at him.

"It better be important," she mumbled, sniffling, "because I think I might be dying."

He stood there looking at her for a moment, blinking back at her. She was wearing pajama pants and an over sized T-shirt, certainly not something you would wear to an arena. "Oh, not really important, I guess, just needing to go team with me. I thought it was important, but by the looks of things, maybe I was wrong."

Nessa groaned. "It's ten in the morning, Matthew." Even as she protested, she stepped back from the door so he could come in, "I wanted to get a little bit more sleep."

"Sleep? I've been up for hours Nessa, lots to do before tonight, I've got like a whole playbook to go over for our match." he said, speaking figuratively, seeing her back away from the door. "I'll wait out here thanks, don't want to make small talk with your chauffeur friend." He said, speaking about her personal pilot/boyfriend.

"Very funny," she snapped, shaking her head. "Michel isn't sharing my room. He's supposed to meet me later. If you want to talk about the match, get in here."

Matt shrugs and walks in, looking around just to make sure he wasn't being set-up or anything. "So what's wrong with you? Up late last night?"

"I went to bed early with a headache." She turned her back on him, crossing over to the mini fridge and pulling out a bottle of apple juice. "And now my throat is all scratchy. I think I'm coming down with something."

"Something?" He questions, noticing that she didn't bother to offer him anything. "Isn't that lovely? You do realize that this entire endeavor was your idea, right? Least you could do is try and look after yourself."

"A cold? I don't know!" She popped the seal on the juice and took a drink from the bottle. "I do my best to look after myself. You'd know that if you paid attention."

"I do pay attention." He fired back quickly. "I know it was just a few days ago you were practically up all night waiting to ambush me in a hotel lobby to do your best to make my time in Toronto as awkward as humanly possible. Did I get a chance to thank you for that, by the way? Pretty sure that threw me off my game…"

"OF course. It's my fault you didn't win some stupid battle royale. Congratulations, Matthew. Now you've got a loss to Fujiko Mine too." Nessa rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's why I'm sick. Not enough rest, all this stress. You're right. It was all my fault. My ideas that aren't worth a damn."

"Who?" He asked, needing to remember that it was her that won the match in the first place. "Oh, right, yay. Well pop some pills or whatever and let's figure this stuff out. The idea might not have been great, but we're here now, right? Might as well make the best of it." He asked, debating if it would be rude to get up and get himself a drink or not.

"Fine. Whatever," she stormed towards the bathroom, "make yourself at home then."

"Yeah, okay." He said, watching her storm off to the bathroom, biting his tongue to not make a comment about how even in pajamas she looked good walking away, realizing that this was his moment to shine. As soon as she disappeared, he hopped up off the chair he was sitting on, quietly started saying, "sneak sneak sneak sneak," and made his way to the fridge, slowly opening it to try not to make a sound and grabbed the first thing he saw, closing the door and dashing back to his chair, looking at the bottle of clear liquid he thought was water but realizing it was Tequila instead. Shrugging, he popped it open anyway and took a sip.

The sound of water running came from the bathroom accompanied by more rustling, banging and muffled cursing before Nessa emerged with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, wiping her face on a hand towel. "I took something. Happy?"

"Oh yeah, thrilled. You look much better now." He said with a bit of sarcasm, noting that she still looked pale and dead tired. "As long as you can focus on what I'm talking about, we'll be fine." He says, taking another swig of the tequila, grimacing a bit afterwards.

She frowned at the bottle in his hand, "drinking this early? Really?"

"Early? I've been awake for like seven hours already, I think that's long enough." He replied, not wanting to admit he thought he grabbed a water.

She stared at him for a good ten seconds, open-mouthed before clamping it shut. "Oh...kay. Well, I took some allergy medication and an Advil Cold tablet so I should be able to focus for a good ten seconds. Maybe." The sarcasm was thick in her voice.

"Ten...nine...eight…" he starts counting down, watching her with a smug look on his face, half expecting her to walk over and smack him right there.

She made a sound of exasperation that brought a smirk to his lips, one that she really wanted to smack off his face. "Seriously. You're right. I got us into this. I'll listen to whatever you think is best."

He thought for a second at what she said, slowly smiling again. "That's a healthy attitude to have, Ness. Obviously, listening to me out there is the first thing we need to focus on, can you do that?"

Nessa grit her teeth, almost seething although she kept her voice level. "Oh, absolutely, dear. And should I crack open the gin and see how that mixes with the medicine I took or are we reserving the day drinking for the brains of this outfit only?"

"Oh, interesting thought. That could be fun." He added, as if actually thinking about it. "Maybe save that for later, but I like where your head's at. We also need to work on quick tags, like you getting in the match for a bit and tagging me back in quickly before you screw something up."

"Before I…" she stared at him in disbelief, "I'm sorry. Who do you think you're talking to? I've held a tag team championship, remember?"

"Yeah, and I'm so proud of you for that, but this isn't Australia anymore, remember? We're in America now...well, Mexico, but you know what I mean."

The towel sailed through the air, right over his shoulder as Nessa fumed. "Quick tags. Don't screw this up. Are you sure you don't want me to just start the match, immediately tag out to you and just stand there on the apron like a goddamned decoration?"

"Do you think you could pull off being a good looking decoration? I don't want there to be some cranky lady acting like a cranky decoration. No one wants that." He's looking her over, a bit of amusement on his face. "You know I'm just messing with you, right?"

"Honestly, I don't know how I'm supposed to be able to tell when you're joking and when you're serious." She snapped, shaking her head with a sigh. "Fine then. You got me wound up. Is that what you wanted?"

"Sorta" he laughed, looking her over again. "Though I was serious about the cute part, we really need to do something about all of this."

"I'll shower," she shrugged, "and I've got new purple gear I'm going to wear."

"Oh? What's it look like?" He asked, eyebrow raised as his interest had suddenly piqued like an investment banker.

"Long sleeves, vee neck, hot pants. Like the pink one." She was casually dismissive, "it has blue trim."

"Hot pants, eh? I like the sound of that." He replied before he stopped himself, though him admiring her ring gear was nothing new. "Why the purple?"

"Something different. I'm not always going to only wrestle in Barbie pink. That's a bit too cliché, don't you think?"

"I don't know, I always thought it looked good, but what do I know, right?"

"Matthew," she paused, "don't. Sometimes the little changes aren't important in the grand scheme."

"Well, if you say so. Anything I can grab you to make you feel less like dying?" He asked, trying to be understanding which didn't come easy for him.

"A new head?" She forced a laugh. "Maybe I'll feel better after a shower."

"I doubt I would be able to find one with eyes as gorgeous as yours, though." He offered, almost like her request was doable but wouldn't be advisable.

"Oh you, stop it." She sniffled, shaking her head, "you know flattery will get you," her nose twitched, "everywhere. I really don't want to have to jump on you and infect you with this plague."

He couldn't help but smile at her nose twitching, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's probably for the best...on the plus side, it'd be hard for me to find you a head with a bigger nose, so it'd be a wash at worst."

"As if I need a bigger…" she trailed off, feeling that telltale prickle in her sinuses before she let go with an, "AHCHOO!!"

Matt instinctively leaned back in his chair to avoid her explosive sneeze, leaning back a little too far though and falling out of the chair entirely, hitting the floor. "Bless you." He said after a moment of laying there.

Nessa burst out laughing, unable to help herself because he'd managed not to spill a drop or break the bottle he still held in his hand. "Smooth," she said between giggles, "see, this is why you're so damned irresistible."

"Thanks." He managed to say, his cheeks a little red from the embarrassment of falling out of his chair. "I think the main take away, though, is that you just literally blew me out of my chair with that thing; it needs a warning label at this point, Nessa." Grabbing the chair for support, he pulled himself back up off the floor, thinking the alcohol might not have been the best idea after all.

Her nose twitched again but she tried to hide that behind her hand, still giggling as she went over to the mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water before tossing it in his direction. "What would your sponsor think if they saw you drinking fermented cactus squeezings?"

"Huh?' He asked, forgetting about all the jokes he had been making on Twitter earlier about being sponsored by water. "Thanks, though." He responded after juggling the water a bit before firmly catching it, sitting back down.

Nessa crossed to where he sat and snatched the Tequila bottle, tossing it over her shoulder to land on the bed. "Might need that later - scratch that might. Definitely will."

"I didn't know you were a tequila type of girl, Nessa, though as of late I can't say that I really remember much about you." He replied, drinking the water, obviously talking about how promiscuous she had been acting as of late.

"When in Rome," she shrugged, swiftly changing the subject, "so any more dazzling pointers? Or should I just…" she paused, inhaling sharply only to have nothing happen. "Damnit!"

"Oh, you should always Damnit." he said swiftly in a mocking tone. "Let me guess, you just remembered you forgot to pack your fifth pair of shoes, the ones that only go with your violet nail polish?"

"Well no," she looked at him strangely, "I thought I was going to sneeze again but it went away. I hate it when that happens."

He looked at her puzzled for a moment, brows furrowed. "They can go away? Geez, our entire relationship would have been different if you did that more often." He said with a smirk, joking of course.

She bristled at that, "right because then I wouldn't have seen how shallow you really were?"

"Oh no, I'm sure you would have seen that in other ways, like anytime I saw you in that pencil skirt, for example." He shot back quickly.

"Why would I object to," she gestured vaguely before her hand came up to rub at her nose, "you obviously finding me attractive?" Her eyes were starting to look a little red, like they were starting to water. "You know, I do take pride in my appearance, Matthew." She glared at him, sniffling softly.

"I don't know, thought you would have been all 'like me for my mind, not my body' like all those other feminists who don't look half as good as you. I'm just sayin', just because I can be shallow doesn't mean that I don't have a deep end, too." He paused for a moment, hearing that back in his head. "Metaphor sort of got away from me there, but you know what I mean. The main point is that I'm not as shallow as you think I am."

Nessa's brow lifted as she studied him, sniffing a few times again. "Are you kidding me right now? You bought that Melody Lennox shirt because you've got this sad little crush on her and you're going to tell me you're not shallow?"

He thought for a second, having a few retorts fly through his head before just shrugging. "Yup." He said simply, thinking about that accusation. "In fairness though, Ness, have you seen her?"

She stepped right up into his personal space, livid now, ignoring the tickle that was still there in her nose. "You're disgusting, do you know that?!"

He looked up at her, though even sitting down she was barely taller than him. "Well then I guess that speaks volumes for your type, doesn't it?"

"What would you even know about my type?" Nessa fired back, "you're so busy ridiculing everything I do on social media that you can't even see what's right in front of you!"

"In my defense…" He started, knowing that this was going to only infuriate her more, but unable to help himself. "That's because you're standing in my way."

"You…" her mouth opened and closed, the words stuck behind the anger. "You…"

"Have a point there?" He offered, trying to coax out the latter half of her thought, though he was pretty sure that's not actually what she was going to say.

Her hand lifted, flying towards his cheek - of course he caught it before it impacted with his face. He was Matt Stone, after all. She glared at him, nose twitching, lips thinning as she almost snarled and then she took another sharp, deep breath, trying to jerk her hand from his grip.

Matt just stared back at her in defiance, a little taken aback that she would actually try to strike him, but there was no way he was going to let her have that opportunity again. "Oh no you don't." He said in response to her attempt to free her hand, looking down at it to make sure he had a strong enough grip.

"Matt," her voice came out small, strained because she could feel that sneeze building.

"If you think I'm going to let you try and slap me again, you're wrong." He said, still not looking up. "Besides, I'm sure you've waited months to hold my hand."

She tried holding her breath, biting her lip, eyes still locked on him. "I…" she finally broke the silence, exhaling slowly, feeling that prickle start to abate just a little. "Please," the quiver in her voice made it worse and the last thing she wanted to do was sneeze right in his face.

When she spoke again, he looked up at her, thinking she was about to start crying with the way her voice broke a bit and that her eyes were starting to tear up. "Oh for God's sake." He mumbled, shaking his head, wondering why she was so emotional all of a sudden.

She sniffed a few times, blue eyes shining through tears as she bit her lip, staring at him still before shaking her head as though she was at a loss for words. Truth was, she wasn't sure she could even say a thing before the sneeze she was desperately holding back ripped forth.

Matt shook his head with her, finally releasing her wrist and glaring up at her. "Just don't ever do that again, Ness."

"Matthew," her voice came out soft as she stumbled, almost losing her balance because she'd been pulling back so hard. "I… I don't…" she shook her head, vision still clouded with tears and as she blinked, one trailed down her cheek. Before he could say something abrasive and awful and completely ruin the moment, before her nose could spoil everything, she darted in closer, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. He reached for her, almost instinctively but she pulled away so quickly it could have been imagined, stumbling back again even as that catastrophic sneeze hit. It was loud and wet and soaked almost every inch of the room. "Sorry," she whispered, although it wasn't clear if she was apologizing for blowing his ear drums or forcing herself on him when he'd already made it clear he wasn't interested in that kind of partnership.