Green Eyed Lyv

Lyv Jackson had been up for hours, still seething with anger. Her knuckles ached from punching that reporter— Nessa Wall— in the face. She'd lost her temper and almost ruined her husband's planned promotional video but every time she thought about the way that whore had rubbed up against her husband, she wished she'd gone further. Stuffing the anger down had robbed her of a good night's sleep and as a result she was up in time to see the sun rise over the city— a sight that made her feel more melancholy than she should have.

She heard him stirring in the bedroom as she sipped her cup of Chai Tea Latte. Still dressed in her pajamas, she had plans to hop in the shower and make sure everything was set for the surprise trip she'd planned for her husband. She was ecstatic that she'd been able to set this up for her him, and she hoped he enjoyed it.

Lyv was seated on the couch in their hotel room suite with her laptop on the coffee table. She was looking through a site for her Kindle that would give her free books, alternately refreshing her Twitter timeline out of sheer boredom. Freezing in mid-motion with the mug inches from her lips, she saw that her last tweet had a reply.



Lyv just stared as she set her mug down on the table so hard that some of the liquid sloshed over the side. That little bitch! Already annoyed, she typed a reply back to the other woman, feeling almost flushed as she felt last night's anger flare to life again. She hadn't even been subtweeting about their upcoming tag team debut. She'd been talking about the plans she'd made for her husband's birthday.



She sat back on the couch, wrapping the robe she was wearing tightly around herself, staring at the reply that had come back almost instantly. It felt like Nessa Wall was lurking online simply to toy with her. "Fucking bitch," she spat out, getting up from the couch. She began to pace, something she did when she was angry or anxious. It was also something that her husband did when he was agitated, although she wasn't quite thinking about that similarity as she muttered to herself. "I should have bashed her head into the goddamn floor." The image of that woman's head split open like a ripe melon made her smile.

The bathroom door opened at that moment, letting loose a cloud of steam as Jackson emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist, just in time to catch her last few words. Frowning, he stopped in his tracks and looked at her, murmuring her name, "Lyv? Hey, everything alright?"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at her husband. It crossed her mind to lie and tell him that things were fine but she couldn't— they had that honesty policy between them. "No. Actually, to tell you the truth— it isn't."

One dark brow rose as he leaned against the doorway, "you're not still pissed about that stupid shit last night, are you? C'mon, babe, let it go—"

"I wasn't," she said as she tilted her head to the side. "But then the bitch started up again on Twitter this morning. So yes, babe, I am pissed about all of it." She wasn't just pissed, she was actually seething and he could see it in her face. Raising an eyebrow to match his, she looked at him. "So wanna tell me what all that is about?" Her hands rested on her hips as she stared at the screen on her laptop. "Go on, look."

"No thanks." He shrugged, pushing off from the doorway and moving towards the coffeemaker that sat on the suite's kitchenette counter. "I don't give a shit, Lyv. I haven't seen her in years, haven't thought about her in just as long."

"Really?" She seemed dubious.

"Really. Last time I saw her was when I was working for AWF. Had that stupid tag team with that Marine asshole... not that you even know what I'm talking about." He raked a hand through his wet hair, turning away from the machine now that his coffee was brewing, "she popped up out of the blue then, too. Never knew she was working for PWI— not that it lasted very long. Threw me for a loop."

"So you guys didn't sleep together or anything?" She asked, her fingers tapping against her hips; she hated feeling this jealous over something so stupid, but she couldn't help it. Seeing that woman's hands on her husband had set her off. Lyv knew there had been dozens of women in Jax's past, but she didn't like to think about it. "She didn't mean anything?"

"Not really," he replied, shaking his head as he sidestepped the direct question, "mean, we had some good times together but it wasn't anything memorable— wasn't anything I wanted to continue beyond a passing thing."

"Well, according to her— you're still into her," she said as she walked back over to the coffee table. Leaning forward, she grabbed her mug, brought it to her lips and took a long sip. "Wish I would have bashed her fucking skull in," she said casually before taking another drink.

"Still into her?" The words echoed in his ears. Was he? He couldn't really remember what he'd felt for her way back when— it was all tangled up with his hatred of Nathanial Duke and WCWF. It was hard to cast his recollection back that far when he was still dwelling on Simon Sensation, and his fuck up the night before. Legendary Title. Not Legacy. Simon was probably going to have a nice laugh over that brainfart and he could blame it on Nessa. She'd rattled him alright, leaving him shaken and worried that he wouldn't make it into this battle royal now. Another grasp at glory and a guaranteed title shot. That's what he needed to cement his legacy in SVW— the tag team wasn't going to put them on the map and he knew that.

"Jax?" Her voice interrupted his musings.

He snorted in derision, shaking his head as he returned to the current topic, "yeah, I'm into her about the same way I still think neon's gonna make a comeback. She's ancient history, Lyv. She's just a trashy ring rat reporter I used to fuck back in the day. That's all."

"Yeah," she said simply, keeping the mug in her hand. She glanced around the room until she spotted the mini-bar. This whole thing with Nessa was eating at her and she wasn't exactly sure why. She knew there was the jealousy aspect of it, but there was something else. Walking over to it, she pulled it open and liberated a tiny bottle of vodka, not even caring that her husband would have to foot the bill for the extra expense. She glanced up at Jax and then back down at her mug, not saying anything.

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" Scorn etched the words as he poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down at the table she'd just left. "If you're hittin' the happy juice, might as well give me a splash of whatever whiskey's in that thing." His eyes drifted to the screen of her laptop, and he could see the last thing Nessa had sent her.

Shrugging her shoulders, she quipped, "it's five o'clock somewhere." Reaching into the bar, she pulled out a small bottle of Jack Daniels and walked it over to him. "Here," she said as she handed it to him, "don't drink it all at once." Turning, she stalked back to where she'd left her mug. "Next time I see her, I will beat the shit out of her," she mumbled to herself as she poured the vodka into her tea.

"What's that gonna accomplish?" He hesitated in adding the booze to his own cup, studying her, "Jesus Christ, Lyv... how fucked up are you over this thing?"

Raising an eyebrow, she glanced up at him, not answering. She grabbed her mug and walked back over to the couch, plopping down beside him. Not drinking any of her tea, she set the mug down on the table. Leaning forward and looking at her laptop, she typed out a reply while he watched, not caring that she looked childish. She was angry and territorial.



Upon seeing that, her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. "She can just fuck right off," Lyv spat out, folding her arms against her chest as she sulked.

His eyes went to the screen, seeing the tweets easily enough. "That's not true," he started to say, pausing as he thought about it. Maybe he had felt something last night when that sleazy psycho bitch was groping at him, but it definitely hadn't been lust. "Actually, maybe it was. Just a little. I was thrown—"

"Fucking Christ," she said, as she uncrossed her arms and pushed herself off of the couch. "I can't sit here and listen to this—"

"Wait, you didn't let me finish," he sputtered, reading her body language with ease. She was beyond pissed... at him... at Nessa... he couldn't really tell which. "When she showed up it was weird, alright? Like seein' a ghost and then she was all rubbing up on me like old times-"

"Yeah, I was there. I saw the whole goddamn thing— Bradley." That was the first time either of them could remember her using his first name. He visibly winced as she said his first name, not liking the turn this conversation was taking. "Why do you think I tried to knock her head off?" There was no warmth to her words. It wasn't even him that she was mad at, it was Nessa. Returning to the couch, she typed another reply, unable to stop herself.



"You tackled her because you were jealous," he said slowly, watching her reaction, "I know that. And then you hit her for good measure just because she rubbed you the wrong way. Or maybe because she was touching me in a way you didn't like. Either way... it was cool. She didn't press charges. She didn't make an issue—"

"Of course I didn't like the way she was touching you," she had softened toward him, but was still angry. "How would you have reacted to seeing Brantley Ryder rubbing up on me like that? Not only that, but making comments like she made about you?" She had brought up Brant because that was the only time she'd ever really seen him jealous.

"If that slick piece of—" he broke off, realizing what she was doing, "oh. Shit. Listen, babe, there's no reason to feel jealous over her. I mean, she's..." he rolled his eyes, "she's below Shane and Payton St. Pierre on the 'wouldn't fuck her to save the species' list." He offered up a tentative smile, hoping she'd drop the whole thing. "Seriously. She's got more issues than Reader's Digest."

She rolled her eyes at his flippant words. "It's not that I don't trust you, Jax," her expression softened so that now she looked like she was just pouting. "I don't listen to what those other jackasses say about you not being able to stay faithful. As far as I'm concerned, they can all go to hell." She finally sat back, no longer looking as though she wanted to leap off the couch and strangle someone. "I just... I guess I just lost it when I pictured her with you. I know you've been with plenty of other women— sooner or later one of them would start causing shit."

"Yeah," he chuckled bitterly, "been around a bit too much, I guess. Half the crazy chicks on Twitter have been in my bed... least that's how it seems lately." He picked up his mug and started drinking the laced coffee. "You knew that when we got together. Never tried to hide that from you, babe. There's this whole image I had going for years, and that was all part of it. Ness was part of that world, an' while I'd love to tell you that it didn't mean anything... at the time it probably did. Maybe more to her than me, but there was something there for a while. Holocaust passion, I guess. We were drunk most of the time— I did a lot of heavy drinking back then. It was right around then that my dad died... kinda mindfucked me a bit when that went down. She was a good bounce for a while, y'know?"

She looked away, hating herself for the jealousy she still felt.

"Lyv... it was over a long, long time ago and you're my wife." He sighed, shaking his head, "does any of this make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess." She said, looking down at the table and then at her mug, staring at the liquid inside as it rippled slightly when his foot nudged the table leg. She didn't even feel like drinking the booze anymore. She felt sick because she was letting this get to her as badly as it had. She needed to work some of it out. "Think I'm gonna hit the gym for a little while."

"You want me to come with you?" He resisted the urge to jump to his feet and grab her by the shoulders, shaking her until she snapped out of this jealous little snit of hers.

"Naw, think I'm just gonna go hit a punching bag for awhile." She reached over and patted his knee. "I'll be back in like a half an hour or something." What she needed was to cool down and not bring any of her negativity on their trip for his birthday.

He shrugged, "alright, I'll be here. Promise I won't have any visitors while you're gone either."

That joke only ignited a little of the flame for her as she shot him a look that could have melted glass. "Funny, Jax... really that's hilarious." She pushed herself off of the couch and stalked off into the bedroom where she slammed the door shut.

After Jax's little joke about visitors, Lyv said nothing to him when she left for the gym, storming out in silence. Instead of being gone for thirty minutes, she'd ended up being gone for over an hour— she had more frustrations to work out than she had originally thought. Luckily, working on the punching bag and running on the treadmill had helped, and when she returned she was in a better frame of mind. Dressed still in a white form-fitted tank top and a pair of black leggings she slipped off her sneakers as soon as she walked in. Her blonde hair had been thrown into a bun and she was soaked in sweat. Looking around, she didn't immediately spot her husband. With a sinking feeling, she called out for him.

"Jackson? You here?" She asked loud enough that if he was there, he'd hear her.

"Yeah," his reply was muffled, "m'in here-" the here in question being the bedroom of the suite, where he was sprawled across the bed, reading the Des Moines newspaper while eating an apple.

She followed his voice and found him on the bed. Smiling a little sheepishly, she stood in the doorway and leaned against it. "About earlier," she said softly, "I was an uber bitch and I'm really sorry."

"Don't apologize," he looked up at her, trying not to grin, "other than the whole trying to break a reporter's face thing, I kinda like it when you're bitchy."

Walking over to the bed, she sat on the edge of it and looked at him, clearly still embarrassed. "To be honest, I'm not sure that I do." She scooted over and lay back against a pillow. "I hate being jealous like that, too. We both have pasts and I shouldn't get upset with you for yours—"

"Ancient history," he muttered through a mouthful of chewed-up apple. "Don't like fightin' with you, babe... but the make-up sex is outta this world." She turned on her side so she was facing him, laying a hand on his chest but he kept her from saying anything as he continued talking. "To be fair, I shoulda forewarned you when I heard she'd been creeping around FFW and SVW. Used to always fall into the same trap with her over the years... every time she showed up, she'd pull that alpha bitch shit and I'd end up taking her back to my room. Guess she was expecting the same thing this time 'round."

"Yeah, I wish you would've told me," sighing, she shook her head and managed a smile. It still bothered her, but for now there wasn't anything she could do about it. Might as well just let it go.

"Lyv?" He murmured her name, reaching out for her, "now that she knows she's getting to you, she's going to keep doing it. That's how she is. While you were gone she was saying a bunch of shit."

"Oh yeah?" she asked casually as if it didn't matter, "like what?" She could play coy all she wanted, but he knew she didn't have thick enough skin to let that sort of nonsense roll off her back.

"She posted a music video... some shit pop song about the 'Flavor of the Weak'. She also said she hated my new gimmick of Monogamy Jackson," he shrugged, "just stupid, fuckin' juvenile shit."

She thought about what he said and nodded. "Just not gonna let it bother me," she said, reaching over and rubbing his shoulder. "You and I are okay, right?"

"Better than okay." He rolled towards her, kissing her on the neck, "jealous is alright, least I know you care."

She let out a little giggle when his lips touched her neck and she moved her hand to the back of his. "I more than just care— I fucking love you," she grinned, "any other chicks get all up on you and BAM! I'm gonna knock their lights out." She said it jokingly but they both knew it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities.

"That's hot, Lyv. Not gonna lie. You wanna knock their heads off; you go right ahead... long as you don't mind what it does to me." His breath was warm against her skin, his lips tickling her ear as he whispered against it, "this whole thing's got me ready for action."

A sneaky little grin crossed her face as she nodded. "You aren't the only one..." her hands were running up and down his back, "I know you already had a shower, but I really need one." She batted those big eyelashes at him, "wanna join me?"

"Abso-fuckin-lutely," he smirked at her, and just like that the fight was completely forgotten, at least in his mind.

She gave him a kiss before sliding off of the bed and pulling him with her into the bathroom. Score another victory for the famous Jackson charm.