Deal with It (Partners in Crime RP)

[Vivienne Daniels]

The sound of the door opening broke the boys from the task at hand of helping Viv make cookies as they went rushing to greet their father with messy faces and hands. She heard both boys ask enthusiastically to be lifted off the ground. A simple game they had quickly developed together as they marveled at their father’s size and strength.

When Cyrus arrived in the kitchen, his arms were outstretched and Liam hung off the left and Noah off the right as Cyrus made whooshing aeroplane noises that made them laugh. He then switched to a friendly pilot voice, reserved exclusively for this game with his kids.

“Boeing 787 comin’ in for landing,” Cyrus announced, “All passengers hold on tight as we make our final approach.”

“Yes Dad!” Both boys declared in unison, tightening their grip on his biceps.

Cyrus then dropped them off one at a time back to the kitchen floor gently. Cyrus then kissed Vivienne on the cheek as she smeared some cookie dough playfully on his nose.

“I see you’ve been keeping the nippers occupied,” Cyrus smiled as he sniffed the air and took in the warm scent of fresh baking. “I think it’s great ya get them involved in your passions, Kitten.”

“Yeah, I don’t get to do it often,” Vivienne admitted softly. “Baking helps me not overthink and stress about work. I’m glad you don’t mind me getting the boys involved.”

“Why would I mind?” Cyrus asked. “They should know their way around the kitchen. Cooking is a vital life skill, besides most of the best chefs in the world are blokes. And any bloke who can cook is always a hit with the Sheilas.”

“My father hated that I taught Chester,” Vivienne said. “Said such things were only for women and - well, he used more colourful language I won’t repeat. But-”

“Hey, ya don’t have to justify anything to me, Kitten. I get it.”

“Sorry, habit,” Vivienne looked down slightly. “Feels like I’m always justifying myself to people these days.”

Cyrus cupped both sides of his wife’s face and raised her head until their eyes met. “Listen ta me carefully, Kitten. Miserable people always criticise the happiness of others. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got ta learn to tune them out. Especially if you don’t wanna handle them like I do, with a fist ta the face.” Cyrus released her gently.

“I know. I know I should be tougher, and have thicker skin. I’m your wife and I should act like it and make you proud of me, but every time I get angry I start to sound like my father and I don’t love that about myself. I want to be better than that. Rowan would know what to do...”

“I am proud of ya, Kitten. I don’t need ya ta be anything other than who ya are - my natural counterbalance. I don’t need you to be anything like me. I need you to be better so I always have a North Star ta come home to.”

“Really? You mean that?”

Cyrus nodded, as Vivienne blinked back the first hint of tears. She had never felt like she meant that much to anyone before, but knowing how necessary and important she was to her husband filled her heart with boundless love for him all over again.

“Sorry. I know. I let myself down in my last cage match but I can make things right, and maybe our family can finally get some respect when we win the tag titles. Right?”

“Absolutely, Kitten,” Cyrus smiled. “I need you to believe, not only in us as a team, but also yourself. I can’t do this without ya. I need you by my side.”

“I believe in us. In myself too. Promise.”

He reached into the inside of his leather jacket and pulled out a folded Gold Coast real estate brochure. Even though everything was online these days, Cyrus still preferred to do some things the old fashioned way. Actually going out to hunt for his perfect family home and coming back with something tangible to show for it made him feel like the provider he should be and the kind of man his father never was.

“Moving to Oz is a big step. I know ya grew up travelling around the world with your family, but settling in one place so far from what you’re used ta in the States, I just wanna be sure you’re ready and prepared for the cultural and lifestyle shift, y’know?”

“I’m sure. With who won the election, I don’t feel safe here anymore.” She quickly flipped through the brochure. “Any of these look perfect, honestly.” She didn’t know much about the region or Australia in general, but she trusted Cyrus’ judgment enough to defer to it.

“A bit pricey I know, but I figure money won’t be too much of an issue after we win,” Cyrus said. “I just know you’ve spent years here, living near Warren and Dawn...”

“Dawn just bought a new place herself. And Warren has his place listed for sale too.”

“Have ta say I’m surprised. I never thought he’d leave Boston given how important it was ta Spike Kane. Guess he really is moving out of his father’s shadow finally.” There was a touch of envy in Cyrus’ voice as he considered how truly liberating that must be.

Vivienne and Cyrus Daniels stood, hand in hand before the stone waterfall at Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Gardens. Around them some of the fall flowers were still in bloom. Cyrus had brought her out here for a date.

“Like we said a couple of weeks ago, Cyrus and I are the only ones who truly deserve this shot at Bella Morte’s Tag Team Championships. We’re the only team who will be stepping into the cage on Sunday who’ve actually earned the right to be here.” Viv smiled at the camera, “RAM just got to show up out of nowhere and be in this match because Nick Knight apparently has no other real friends willing to step up and be in his corner to settle a score with Savage By Nature.”

“Let’s be fair, Kitten, RAM is exactly the kinda weird geeky pipsqueak who got picked last in school, so I’m not surprised that Knight left himself with no other options besides a suicidal nutcase who spends more time in therapy and whacked out of his gourd on medically prescribed hallucinogens than actually focusing on anything relevant to his pathetic wrestling career. Just how fucking inconsequential and misguided do you have to be Nick ta think that RAM is gonna do anything but seal your fate when ya step inta that cage with me?” Cyrus said. “The best I can figure is ya looked at the clownish basket case that is the current champ in this match and thought to yourself if Abby can succeed with one, so can I. Well, Hollywood Butcher, I got some bad news for you mate, you’re just leading a lamb ta the slaughter this Sunday.”

“Nick Knight talks a big game about doing things nobody else can, but that’s all it is - talk. He’s not at the level he once was, and if I was being charitable I’d say he was still shaking off ring rust from not being featured as prominently anymore, but really he’s doing himself no favours by handicapping himself in this match. And believe me, we found out just a couple of weeks ago just how severe a handicap Marshall is when he cost us the eight person showcase match at Odyssey,” Vivienne said.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that either, Bobby,” Cyrus said. “Knight might be fine with carrying ya, the worthless sack of shit that ya are ta one of the most embarrassing losses of his career this Sunday, but I’m not. So, since I’m gonna need something ta do whilst Kitten is climbing outta the cage, I just might choose to beat the piss outta your arse. Ya bloody deserve it for the snide comments ya made about my wife anyway.”

“As usual Marshall has a lot to say, but most of it is meaningless.” Vivienne said. “Excuse me for not really caring what a guy who is younger than me and weirdly obsessed with eighties pop culture thinks about me,” Vivienne said. “We’ve all seen Back To The Future too, and as fun as that trilogy is, we didn’t base our entire personality and world view on its depiction of 1950’s America.”

“It’s bloody weird how everyone associated with Gilmore or Fiona are indoctrinated inta the same way of thinking. No wonder her little backwater Indy venture failed, probably mandated that all her students have an almost autistic obsession with the eighties and are all pro Trump,” Cyrus said. “If I was made ta sit through nothing but forty year old pop culture and MAGA propaganda, I’d start injuring people ta tank your promotion too,” Cyrus said. “At that point my beatings would be considered a bloody public service.”

“We all already know that Knight and Marshall aren’t a real team, not like you and me baby,” Vivienne beamed. “They don’t know how to work as a unit. They lack cohesion, and they barely share the same overall goal. There isn’t a chance in hell that they’re beating us in this match. Nothing will come between us, and we’re both just too driven by rage to be stopped by a couple of complete and total assholes, let’s be honest.”

“Of course, Kitten,” Cyrus agreed. “And they’re not the only arses in their match desperately in need of a good kicking. Savage By Nature are almost as bloody awful. Stephen fancies himself a real bad arse but when it came time ta prove it in a situation where anything goes, he got his shit pushed in by an ICP reject and her top groupie so badly that not even bloody spider Sheila could bail him out. Maybe Brandy would’ve been a bit more helpful if she wasn’t busy tripping over herself like a bloody idiot. And for as badly as the former Champs embarrassed themselves at Legacy, do the suits send them ta the back of the line? Nah, instead they get thrown a bone and another bite of the cherry, all without any real explanation or justification. Well, since Bertie is obviously too busy ta force ya outta the hunt like he would if there was any real justice in this company, Kitten and I will just have ta do it ourselves. See, as it turns out ya didn’t earn this title shot, but ya have earned a bloody good beating, and I’m gonna personally make sure ya get every single second of it. Congrats.”

“It’s worse than them having not even earned their rematch, hun. Remember in the Heir and Heiress tournaments earlier this year, Widow would constantly remind us that she doesn’t even want any titles, she’s just here to hurt, both herself and others. So why should we now believe that this title opportunity even matters to her? It doesn’t, so she’s going to be more focused on hurting people inside that cage than trying to escape and let Terella out. That to us, makes her as useless a tag partner to him as Marshall is to Knight. Widow doesn’t chase greatness, she takes it to bed. Widow only really has one true master, and that is pain. It doesn’t matter if she’s experiencing or inflicting, she’s a slave to it.”

“Normally, I could have some real fun with that.” Cyrus smirked, as Vivienne noticeably took a moment to give him the side eye. “But then I think about the kinda pansies that get her going and I realise that Stephen really is stupid enough ta trust a Sheila who has fashioned herself after a naturally cannibalistic species. Now, that may absolutely bloody terrify your average Yankee bloke, but for us Aussies, we see redbacks out in the backyard grilling some high quality tucker every day of the bloody week. So Kitten and I really don’t get what the big deal is about you sweetheart. You’re not nearly as special as you wish you were, not to us or any of the blokes in your life apparently, given how quickly Sabin tucked his tail between his legs and bolted as soon as a single tourney didn’t go his way. He didn’t think much about you at all, did he? And let’s be real honest here, when push comes to shove and ya bogans lose yet another title opportunity, neither will Stephen. ‘Cause the truth is, he’ll never care for or prioritise ya like he does his actual Sheila. Nobody will, and I think ya know that too, don’t ya darlin’, deep down. Hence the careless attitude and casual nihilism.”

“Terrella’s got all the depth and charisma of a street puddle after a light rainfall. He’s about as interesting and engaging a personality as Tytus Rost. Just another big guy who hits hard, relatively speaking. My husband is bigger and hits harder and actually has enough of an edge to him to grab the World Champion’s attention. To be a Champ you have to be interesting enough to hold people’s attention. At least as a trio, people reacted to the sheer size and audacity of Madjinn’s ego. Without him, you’re just two life size cardboard cutouts of wrestlers, you look decent and have a function, but not really good for much else. If it wasn’t for Portia, Stephen wouldn’t even be able to handle his promos, she’s a crutch and to be honest she’s just as lame and boring too. I can see why you two deserve each other.”

“Finally, we come to the big game Kitten and I are hunting this Sunday,” Cyrus smirked. “A pair of overrated gothic scissor sisters who desperately need ta follow Team Knight’s example and spend much more time in therapy than they currently do. The mentally disadvantaged and the delusional should not be celebrated, they should be institutionalised,” Cyrus said. “And both you bitches are bloody delusional as far as I can tell. One believes herself to be blessed by some divine creator whilst the other longs to be put out of her bloody misery. It’s not gonna be pleasant when I do what needs to be done, but ya both need a dose of cold hard reality. Berto has been too lenient on giving loons long term contracts and unjust rewards around here. I never got why everyone seems to be down with actual clowns, not just here but everywhere, but the line has to be drawn somewhere. The age of spooky sideshow acts is over, it’s time for real blokes and their Sheilas ta get this sport back ta the basics of settling even the most minor dispute with a fist to the face or a boot to the John Thomas. The way it should be.”

“Abby has had a lot to say about me,” Vivienne said. “It's funny she thinks I’m a bad feminist when the whole point of feminism is to give women choices they historically have never had and always had dictated to them. Being a doting housewife and a loving mother by my own choice is a whole different thing to a man deciding it should be my only role in society, so please fuck off with all your righteous sanctimony over the validity of my life choices. Like it or not, they’re my choices and that’s all that matters to me. It is not my job to save the fucking world, or lead it into a better tomorrow. I’m not that naive or ignorant anymore. I used to be, and all I got for my faith in people was my ass kicked and my heart broken over and over and over again, until Rowan opened my eyes and gave me the power to take back my life. I owe her everything. I have faith in her as strongly as you do in Eternity. A woman who also worked alongside her to protect you, as I recall. You were quick to understand and be non-judgemental then, but now suddenly with me and my choices you have this huge problem. Why? Is it because she has a pet name for me? Does it bother you that much that she calls me ‘flower’? Stop making it my problem and just fucking talk to your girlfriend. You’re supposed to be able to get through to her unlike anybody else, right?” Vivienne sighed. “People think I’ve changed, or that Rowan changed me or that Cyrus forced me to be something I’m not, but the truth is I’ve suppressed my rage at being treated like a precious doll my entire fucking life. The innocence was a mask and an act my abusers forced me to perfect. They insisted I could never live my truth because the truth was that I’m a dirty and disgusting girl. And the things they did to me, the things they insisted I deserved for not being a model Jewish girl, proved it. I envy you Abby, not only for your position in the company but also for the fact that you were born and raised by a loving family who never thought of violating you. You got to shake off being a CSA survivor because you never really were one. I fucking wish my life had been that simple and that blessed. I may never be able to take your life or your family, Abby, but I damn sure can take your title. I can end your dreams of being a noteworthy female tag champion before you’ve even defended your title once. I’ve already embarrassed you once this year in the Heiress tournament, so we both know if you push me I’ll fucking do it again, right under your beloved’s nose this time, just to make my victory even sweeter.”