#chapter 1.

Trust wasn’t something that necessarily came easy to either of them. And both of them have their respective reasons for it. Both of them have had their own issues with the Club since their involvement had begun, but maybe they could meet somewhere in the middle of all their mess, of all their chaos? Maybe something beautiful and yet equally destructive could come of all of this? While Finlay considered these things, she did not. She was so very distraught by her own mind’s stuck state of being, the soundtrack of the last few months playing over and over again on repeat, haunting her in a manner. She doesn’t even realize that she’s being scouted, being considered for the position of prospective member. All she knows is she has gold around her waist that no matter what is going on in her personal life with the faction, she still has to defend at all costs. She must keep it on her, no matter who has to be sacrificed as a result of title’s retention. And here she is, wandering in the very territory that the Dogs have marked as their own. They seem to be perfectly content with running things. And Becky’s the same way. Imagine what they could do together. Swift motion to hop over the barricade, noticing David’s presence as he sat on the ring apron, soaking everything in after that night’s show. Would she dare be so bold as to intrude upon his moment, enter into his space? Yes, actually. 

“ - Hey, stranger, “ She greets him. Sure, they worked together in the same company, but it had been long since they’d actually socialized beyond anything that might be deemed stalker behavior. She’d ran into him a few times in Germany, when she’d been one of the talents borrowed for a night or two during European tours with NWA Ireland. They were never exactly close, but they’d been in each other’s orbits. If only either of them knew just how close they’d become!  “ It’s a small world after all. “ 

“ Hey yourself, stranger  … “ He retorts with equal wit. They could do this all night if she wanted to. He could keep up. A smirk tugs at his features, parting facial hair so that pearly whites gleam in the light overhead. The gum in his mouth is chewed in a moment of contemplative speechlessness, considering his next words and moves carefully. Can’t misstep here, and he’s not known for making tactless mistakes. Not even when speaking to pretty Irish girls who have unforgettable scents. “ That it is.” Another beat, hopping down from his perch. The shillelagh in his hand which had been twirling in rhythmic motion is set aside, left for only the moment so that he might provide her with his undivided attention. “ It takes balls to show up like this, but you’re good at that, aren’t you? I’m told it’s what you do these days, own the world and all…” A half amused look on his face as he gestures towards the belt around her waist. 

“ Hm, they’re sure a helluva lot bigger d’an y’ers.” She teased with a thickened accent, not missing a beat. It’s meant more as a jest than to be taken as anything resembling insulting. Becky could go all night with him, too, and she’s quick to prove that in very few words. Fist finds bicep with a playful punch, tongue running over teeth with a cheeky expression. Hazel optics follow his focus, palm slapping against the brass. It’s a resounding echo, and the cockiness, in her mind, is well earned.  “ I t’ ink it’s fair t’ say that, boyo. T’ ink it’s also fair t’ say that I pretty much run the women’s division now. “ 

“ Oh mo pheata, if only ya knew… “ He’s trying to exercise restraint of emboldened statements, doesn’t want to cross any lines too soon, and shoot himself in the foot. How disastrous it would be to poach this before it’d even had a chance to begin, let alone flourish? But, he does notice the way her cheeks turn pink at the mere admonishing of gaelic term of endearment.  “ Fair, yes. And are you content where you’re at, hm? Or are you feeling… ambitious still? “ 

His words resemble the coziness of putting on an oversized sweater, still warm from the dryer. It reminds her of home. It makes her yearn for it, if only for a brief flicker of time. Not enough to make her leave where she’d found new homestead, but enough to feel a closeness to David she hadn’t before. Enough to awaken something inside her not yet named. A knowing smile reaches her eyes, low hum of contentment reverberating her throat. Whatever would come of this interaction, at least they were getting off on the right foot! Finlay returns the smile, realizing he’s got her right where he wants her, at least for the time being. All the while, he’s trying his best not to become too fixated on the phantom sensation of her fist. She’s strong; the kind of feminine strong that tells him she was certainly holding back. But, what he doesn’t realize, despite the fact that he doesn’t know yet if he can place his trust in her, a spark has been ignited here. 

“  Oh, oh, y’are a real craic, you know that? “ She remarks, brow lifting for a brief flicker of time. His further questioning gives her pause, causing that very same brow to furrow in contemplation that lasted much longer. Lips twist as they purse to the side, ultimately shrugging. “ I don’t know, it’s hard to tell where I’m at these days. “ A beat, a heaviness looming in the air with her words. It’s something unspoken, but David knows exactly what she’s getting at. And it shows in the softening of his expression. She brushes it away with a dismissive wave of her hand. “ I’m never not ambitious, though, lad. As a matter of fact, I t’ ink my belt is lonely. I think it  could use a friend.” 

A friend? Color Finlay impressed! Could she possibly be referring to the NJPW Strong Women’s Championship? That would be a sight to see! Becky 2 Belts had a nice ring to it, after all. Oh, how she perfectly encapsulates everything the War Dogs represents without even so much as trying. He hopes for both of their sakes that she’s not too good to be true, and that the rug of yearning and fantasy won’t be ripped out from underneath him the minute he places his trust in her. It pays to be guarded, he’s learned the hard way. But, could it potentially keep her at arm’s length for too long, where she slips right through his fingertips? It’s too soon to tell. Either way, it almost feels damned if you do and damned if you don’t. This isn’t a license to throw caution to the wind, and he knows that too. It’s imperative to remain calculated. Canine impulse could not override strategy. 

“ A friend, huh?”  He taps his chin in consideration, like he’s taking a moment or two to chew on this idea like a proverbial rawhide bone. But, he’s decided already that he could help her with this. They could help her with this. And in return, she could do something for them. Perhaps show them that she’s trustworthy? Show them where her loyalty lies? “ Y’ know, me and my boys could be of some assistance with that, if you’d like? We’re good to have in your corner. Better that than not.” 

“Yep, might go after the NJPW Strong title next!” She exclaimed with a flare of dramatic gesture. There’s a wickedness behind her eyes, a mischief lacing every syllable. Arms cross just above the strap, head canting to the side as she considers what’s being told to her. Finlay makes a much better friend than foe. She’d witnessed this time and again, but to be at the receiving end of such crossroads is something all its own. “You lot would help me?” Not that it’s needed, but appreciated nonetheless. She could fight her own battles, even when she was in the Bullet Club actively, she’d proven that. But, to have people at her side once more provided a comfort she didn’t know she needed. “Where’s the catch?” 

“Ooh, you don’t say? Well, it would look good with your other belt.” Anything would look good on Becky though, not that he’d readily admit that out loud. He glances over, watching his dogs fooling around in the stands. Clark Connors had his Super Jr Trophy, chasing Drilla Moloney  with it as they pretended to sword fight with them and periodically dry humping it in his usual fashion that he did with literally anything he could get his hands on. He’d be certain the minute Lynch was brought into the fold, he’d do the same to her, too. And Gabe Kidd, maddened with a thirst for blood, was a few feet away, pacing and muttering to himself. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head as he watches him slap himself, as if he’s trying to psyche himself up for something big come the next time The War Dogs graced the squared circle.  “ Yes, sweetheart, we’d help you.” He replies the minute his attention returns to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know things haven’t been so easy street for you lately. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I haven’t noticed.” In an instant he sees the pain behind Becky’s eyes. Oh, little girl, if only you were ours. You’d forget all about your pain. 

“Hm, no catch. Consider it a favor.” He claps his hands together, index finger pointing out from joined palms. It wags at her, like he’s about to make a point. Perhaps he is. “It’d be nice to hunt something different for a change.” He sucks on his teeth, shrugging. It’s as if to leave the ball in her court, let her decide to do with it what she wants. And she will. He doesn’t doubt that. “Besides, it could be fun for you, too? Don’t you think so, hm?” Words are phrased like she’s about to make a deal with the devil, and David supposed that in a way, she was. 

“But I’d be in your debt then, yeah?” She’s smarter than she looks, and Finlay’s beginning to realize it more and more the longer they speak. 

“Mm, you could say that. Or, maybe you can just, I don’t know, prove to us that we can trust you, and that our efforts won’t be wasted.” There’s an intentional sting placed right behind his words. It’s meant to be a hot poker to dig under her ribs. What he doesn’t realize is that it works almost too well. It riles something up in Becky that’s been dormant. It’s not so much ambition as it is a sickening form of inspiration. The fire in her belly fostered embers that had long been left snuffed out, since Prince Devitt had made his exit. For the first time in a while, she felt more alive. Finlay watches as a light comes on in her hues he hadn’t seen before. Bingo! He grabs onto it quicker than anything, not daring to let such a pivotal moment go to waste. Now, he must go in for the kill. “Maybe some sort of public gesture, show us, and everywhere watching…” Same index finger waves around him at the stadium seats, as if people occupied them once more. “Where you stand.” 

“Alright, alright, boyo, I’ll bite!  So,  you want some sort of grand gesture, something for the whole world t’ see?” She questions as she pushes herself up on the apron, taking a while to contemplate what doing so would mean. He’s not like Jay, not so forward, but not quite roundabout enough for her to not pick up on what’s going on here. If Becky does this, she’s making it known to the entire New Japan Pro Wrestling universe that she’s on the side of the Dogs. And where would the state of the Civil War be then? Sure, they had their paws full with United Empire right now. Sure, they didn’t concern themselves with a majority of the mess that had become of the Bullet Club all the time. But, they’re still a cog in the metaphorical machine. They were still a part of the War whether they were its catalyst or not. “I can manage that.”