Disclaimer: I own the story and the Kat character. Vince rules over the rest.
Distribution: Flights.
Notes: The long awaited final chapter in the Tested Love series.
So it hadn’t quite been a year and they were already celebrating their first anniversary. It wasn’t quite right but by the time their real anniversary would come around, Kat was going to be back on the road, trying her hand as a hardcore champion.
It still burned, having to sit on the sidelines and watch her wife work the ring five days a week while she sat at home, crippled by an idiotic injury. Truth be told, unless Kat was home, Amy didn’t watch wrestling at all. It tore at her heart to see other people what she ached to do. She wasn’t made to sit by and watch quietly… she was made for action, hardcore action.
Amy sighed and slowly got up from the bed where Kat had tenderly made love to her all night long. She was probably already up and about. Amy picked up a sarong from a chair and casually wrapped it around her body above her breasts, making her way to the kitchen. She found her wife there, wearing a similarly wispy sarong while she cut up various fruits.
“Up already?” Kat asked Amy as she kissed her soft lips.
“Yeah… you did the leaving thing, I did the missing thing.”
“Aw… and here I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
“Nah, you’ve been pampering me too much anyhow.”
“No such thing. Now, do you want to go back to bed so I can get you that breakfast or would you like to break out that lovely terrace?”
“Terrace please.”
With a nod, Kat signaled Amy to go outside while she followed, a very full breakfast tray in her arms. As the newlyweds talked and laughed, they momentarily forgot that, as always, their bodyguards were circling the small island paradise, always on the lookout for possible evildoers. The threat from extreme racist groups was still very real and lived through all the letters they received on a daily basis. That very threat had made their wedding day twice as stressful but it had gone off without a problem.
Amy smiled as Kat handed her a wide-brimmed hat to protect her shoulders and head from the hot Caribbean sun. The redhead smiled as Kat put on a similar hat before sitting down in front.
“They look like our wedding hats, don’t they?”
“I love those hats. You looked so pretty in it… very chic.”
“I felt a wee bit awkward under that big hat but on you, it looked absolutely fabulous.”
“Why thank you… God, I can’t believe I have a wife,” Kat said as she chewed on a piece of juicy pineapple.
“Which part? The married part or the wife part?”
“Truth be told, the married part is the most unbelievable.”
“Why?”
“When I got the whole I’m bi thing, I figured I’d fuck my way through a bunch of men and women, never stopping to marry one.”
“Ah, you were planning on being a slut then?”
“More like a hoochie or a tramp.”
“Ah… much better then.”
“I try. Shoot,” Kat said, looking at the table, “I forgot the papaya juice.”
“I’ll get it,” Amy offered, getting up.
“It’s ok. I’ll be right back.”
“Let me. I’m injured Kat, not an invalid. Carrying a little juice won’t kill me.”
“Fine… go on then… just kiss me first.”
Amy went over to Kat, pushing their hats’ brims out of the way to make their lips meet. They shared a long and passionate kiss that made both of their temperatures rise by quite a few degrees.
“I’ll go get that juice now. I hope it’s cold cause we could both use a cool down.”
Laughing, Amy went inside the small house and padded to the kitchen, finding the crystal pitcher of papaya juice on the table. The sweltering heat had covered it with condensation and Amy grabbed a paper towel, wiping it dry before going to the freezer for some cubes of ice to cool it down. Picking up the pitcher, she headed back outside and joined Kat.
“I’m so glad you convinced me to come out here. True, it’s as hot as home but it’s different because it’s not home. And Jason and Jeff can’t find us here,” she said as she sat down next to her wife, covering her hand with hers, “which is a good thing because this is one time when I want you all to myself.”
Amy picked up Kat’s hand from the table and brought her fingers up to her lips, kissing them gently. But her wife’s gentle pull on her arm made the young woman lean forward and she landed face first in her bowl of fruits.
“Kat!” Amy screamed as she rushed around the table, throwing aside her hat as she tried to lift her up. When she did straighten Kat back into her chair, what she saw, what she understood… it made her go insane.
Shane was going over the SMACKDOWN website when his private line rang. He picked it up absently, still making notes about corrections to be made.
“Shane McMahon.”
“She… it’s… so much… it’s not fair… so much…”
“Who is this?”
“Shane… Shane… it’s completely unfair… I love her… she can’t be…”
“Amy? What’s wrong?”
“Mr. McMahon?”
Shane’s body tensed as he recognized one of the girls’ bodyguards, his mind trying to predict the worse, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“A sniper. He got Kat.”
“How badly hurt is she?”
“Mr. McMahon… Shane… she’s gone. She didn’t make it.”
“Did you get him?”
“No… Amy… she needed us.”
“All right, I’ll handle it. Don’t move anything and I’ll send some people down.”
Shane put down the phone and forced himself to finish the task at hand before releasing his breath. When he finally did let it out, the impossible tears came to his eyes as he thought about Kat and her useless death.
“She’s been out there since they came to pick up the body,” one of the bodyguards said, looking out to Amy as she sat on a sandy dune, rocking herself back and forth, moaning softly.
“How is she?” Shane asked.
“She’s completely despondent. She might hurt herself.”
“You think?”
“I’ve seen people deal with grief… it’s hard.”
Shane nodded and headed off to the dune, nodding as he saw one of the bodyguards standing about 100 yards from Amy, his hand on his weapon. Shane knew there was another bodyguard out there but as far as he was concerned, not seeing him was not a big problem.
“Amy,” he said softly, coming to stand behind the redhead. He called out her name three times before she acknowledged him.
“Shane,” she said, turning around to face him, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red, almost a perfect match for her hair.
“How you doing?”
“They killed her… my half of life… they just killed her.”
“I know…”
“I was just getting some juice Shane… if I’d let her go into the house for the juice, she might still be alive.”
“Maybe… I don’t know…”
“I love her so much Shane… and now, she’s gone from me… just like that… when I need her the most.”
“I know.”
“Shane, we wanted to get pregnant.”
Shane shook his head, trying to stop the tears. “Maybe you still can… and name your baby after her.”
“But it won’t be her… and she won’t be there to raise the child with me… we’d decided, she was going to be the disciplinarian… make sure the kids ate their vegetables and all… I was going to have a baby and she was going to have a baby and we were considering fathers… you made the list.”
“I did?” Shane felt like someone had cut him off at the knees. Of all the honors Kat and Amy could have bestowed upon him, choosing him to father their child was the highest. Suddenly, Kat’s murder seemed more unfair and unnecessary than ever. He sat down on the ground next to Amy, putting his arm around her, rocking and moaning with her.
Lita didn’t look like Lita anymore. She looked feral and mean and with her new head of shoulder-length black hair, naturally with a streak of white hair at the front, she gave off a muchly deserved dangerous vibe. She walked down the ramp and watched, hands on her hips while Stacey and Torrie rolled around in the ring, pretending to wrestle. Finally, when she had enough, she made her way up the stairs, to the turnbuckle and delivered a picture-perfect Lita-canrama on a standing Stacey. When Torrie finally made it to her feet, Lita didn’t wait before nailing her with a DDT. She stood over both women and took off her leather jacket, showing off her black baby tee. On the front of it was stenciled: In memory of skill, courage and beauty, and in the back was a picture of a smiling Kat, the last one ever taken of her, by the woman she loved.
As she stood in the ring, fans cheering for her, Amy knew she wasn’t alone and that made the pain a little easier to bear.