Title: This Can't Be Right
Author: Luna
E-mail: ambersgrrl@yahoo.com
Feedback: Yes please!
Genre: Buffy/WWE
Rating: NC-17 (Don't know if it will actually be necessary but I *always* try to err on the side of caution)
Type:
Pairings: Willow/Batista
Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and UPN own all rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and do not authorize this author.  Like wise Vince McMahon owns the WWE.  Nothing is being gained from this, except a need to pass the time.
Summary: A wild night in Vegas leads to some unforeseen consequences.  Can they find their way or will they end up destroying one another in the process.
Anything else: I'm using these characters as I see fit.  I'd say that because of that it would qualify as AU, but I'm not going to be going against the nature(s) of those involved.  At least I hope I'm not.  Any comments are welcome.
Spoilers: In my mind season seven never happened.  The only thing that DID happen was that she went to England to gain control of her powers.  As for the WWE I'm just going to be making up things as I go along because it's been quite some time since I've had the chance to watch it.  If you notice any problems in this story pointing them out and suggesting solutions will be greatly appreciated.
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This Can't Be Right
The red head slowly came to awareness.  She had a foul taste in her mouth.  Her head hurt, and her stomach was upset.  She gathered saliva and swallowed, hoping that would remove the hideous feeling in her mouth.  It didn't.  Geez, she felt terrible.  What the hell had happened last night?
The last thing she remembered was going out with Buffy and Xander.  They'd wanted to go back to the room.  The trio had to leave the following morning.  Willow didn't want to go back to the hotel and deal with her friends' worried glances and the comforting that was slowly beginning to smother her.
So she had drowned her sorrows in drink after drink.  Now it seemed that she was going to have to pay the price for that lack of control.  "Hoo boy am I ever paying the price," she thought as her stomach gave another uneasy turn.  The red head didn't bother to check the time.  She knew her friends would wake her before they had to leave.
In the mean time she was just going to go back to sleep.  Maybe she'd sleep long enough for the awful feeling to pass.  She snuggled back into the warmth of the blankets and...her mind stopped trying to figure out what was wrong with this picture. Her eyes shot wide as she realized that there was someone in bed with her.
Slowly she turned her head, dread filling every part of her.  A shock of brown hair started to calm the young witch until she realized that this was so very not Xander.  The lines of his face were relaxed in sleep. It was the face of an angel, sweet and innocent, but there was an air about him that said he was more dangerous then he appeared. He was definitely handsome.  That still didn't explain why he was in bed with her.
His soft exhalations whispered across her bare shoulder. "Wait a minute," she thought frantically.  Closing her eyes for a moment to offer up an entreaty to any deity listening, she hesitantly lifted the blanket away from her body and gasped in shock as she found that they were both naked as the day they were born.  She could feel her face flame as she realized the mess she was in.  She was not in her room as she'd thought, but instead was in his.
The sound brought her unexpected bed partner out of his slumber.  His eyes blinked the sleep from them and his arms reflexively tightened around the little red head.  His chocolate brown gaze collided with an emerald green one.  "G'morning," he said groggily.
The shy little hacker could only gap at him.  He was tall from what she could tell, and he was curled around her small frame.  His skin was tan, and from the little glimpse she'd gotten of him she knew it was an all over tan.  What woman wouldn't want to wake up in bed with him?  Oh wait, she knew the answer to this one.  Her!
With a squeak she bolted from the bed, taking the sheet with her.  She took her time wrapping the piece of cloth carefully around her.  Tentatively she raised her eyes and gawked at the man on the bed.  It didn't seem to matter to him that he didn't have a stitch of clothing on.  She felt the blood rush to her head and quickly averted her eyes.  "C-could you please..um...put something on." Willow asked in a breathy whisper.
He didn't understand this woman. She seemed so shy and totally at odds with the kind of girl he'd normally find himself waking up with.  Yet, there was something about her that called to him.  Maybe it was the way she blushed, or the way she stammered.  Whatever the cause the wrestler knew that eventually they'd have to part ways.  His job didn't allow him anything else.
Willow began searching the room trying to find her clothing.  She was not going to try and have a conversation with a totally naked person, no matter how good looking that person might be.  "Bad Willow!"  She thought as another blush covered her skin.
The young woman gave a frustrated cry as she realized that her clothes were nowhere to be found.  She wanted some answers and she wanted them now.  Picking up a black button down silk shirt she slid it on.
The brunette chuckled as he watched her pull his shirt on and button it over the sheet.  He pulled a pair of track pants out of his bag and slipped them on, not bothering with underwear.  The grappler figured she wanted to figure some things out, and she was apparently not going to do that while they were both unclothed.
The redheaded witch peeked over her shoulder and gave a sigh of relief as she found him with a pair of loose fitting pants on.  Okay, she could do this.  She had tried to end the world, talking to an attractive man shouldn't be too hard.  She hoped.
She wrung her hands together in nervousness.  How should she open?  Willow paced the small room trying to keep her emotions under control. If she let them have free rein it would be very bad.  It was imperative that she keep her cool.
A curious emerald gaze met amused coffee colored eyes.  "Since it seems that we have no idea who the other is lets start there," he said, humor coloring his words.
"I-I'm Willow," she offered.  Her outstretched hand seemed to garner his attention.  His brows drew together.  The frown on the big man's face was daunting, and was almost enough to send her fleeing from the room, almost.
The wrestler closed the gap between them with three swift strides.  He snatched up her left hand and looked pointedly at her third finger.  Willow couldn't seem to make the connection.  She looked down at her hand then back up at the man holding it.
"Damn it!" He exclaimed as he dropped her hand and spun away.  The expletive seemed to snap her out of her trance and her muddled brain made the obvious conclusion.
"But to who?" She asked quietly, more to herself than to the other occupant of the room.
The man shoved his left hand under her nose.   He watched in horrified fascination as her eyes widened and all the color drained from her face.  She looked as if she was going to be sick, and as if to prove his thoughts she ran right for the bathroom slamming the door shut behind her.
She emptied the contents of her stomach.  Tears gathered in her eyes, as her troubled stomach clenched again to eject its content.  "How could she have been so stupid?  Maybe it would have been better to go back to the hotel with Xander and Buffy.  At least then she wouldn't be in this predicament."  The witch raised a shaking hand and flushed the toilet.
Willow stood in front of the mirror taking in her appearance.  Her lips were still swollen; her hair was a mess and the loose-limbed satisfied feeling attested to what she had already surmised had happened last night.  What was she going to do now?
First things first.  She was going to go find her clothes, and then call her friends; they had to be out of their minds with worry.  They hadn't wanted to leave her alone in the first place.  Now just look where she'd ended up!
The hacker snatched up a toothbrush the hotel had been kind enough to leave for the occupants of the room.  She applied a generous amount of toothpaste to the bristles and scrubbed her teeth.  Her mind raced furiously ahead of her.  She was getting her stuff and then she'd find a way out this marriage that should not be.  It was a farce and that was the end of that.  The redhead nodded to herself in the mirror.
She rinsed her mouth out and took a few calming breaths.  When she opened the door she was met with the grim face of her soon to be ex-husband.  The look alone sent chills down her spine and not the good kind either.
"We need to talk," he stated.
Willow couldn't help it.  She raised an eyebrow at his behavior.  "Oh really?  About what?"
If she had been paying attention she would have notice the envelope he was tapping rhythmically against his thigh.  Her abrupt mood change wasn't what unsettled him.  It was what the seemingly innocent letter contained.  He'd been ready, and willing even, to end this accidental marriage.  Sure a part of him had rebelled at the thought of having to give up the fire-haired little pixie, but he knew that it would have been for the best for them to part ways.
Instead of answering, he thrust a thick white envelope at her.  She took it from him without a word.  Her fingers trembled as she pulled the contents out of the packaging.  Her eyes scanned the letter, once then again, and finally a third time.  Her face pale, she turned to her husband, eyes pleading with him to make the words untrue.
His brown eyes met that troubled gaze and he felt his resolve crumbling.  He took the shaking red head into his arms as the tears began making their way down her face.  His large hand rubbed her back soothingly as she sobbed against his chest.  "They've never cared before, why start now," she questioned no one in particular.
"Well I think we might have had something to do with that," said a cruel voice from the door.
Willow's head snapped in that direction.  She took in the three maliciously grinning faces of Evolution's other members.  The three gathered in the door were huge.  There was one man with shoulder length blonde hair.  His hazel eyes bored into hers, and she could feel her face flame.  She quickly turned her attention to the one with the short-cropped brown hair; he gazed at her knowingly.  Finally the red head turned her attention to the oldest member of the group; there was something about him that she didn't trust. She wasn't sure what it was and then she felt it. The power flared, flooded her and with that, the young witch promptly fainted.