Southern Charm

All she wanted was a nice guy who would treat her right. She never expected to be taken in by a certain rainbow-haired daredevil’s Southern Charm…

She was prominent Diva in the WWE, a multiple-time former Women’s Champion, a smart, college-educated woman, and incredibly beautiful on top of that. She was at the best possible place she could be in her life, even without the Championship around her waist. She did what she loved, was backed completely by friends who loved her...but she still hadn’t found a person to settle with. She’d had too many temporary relationships and one-night stands under her belt, and now Kenny had broken the engagement, along with her heart. She was beginning to wonder if she was destined to spend her life alone, the only romance she’d ever have being the on-screen love-interests that World Wrestling Entertainment paid her for. As a Diva, her first and foremost commitment was to entertain the fans, and she did so gladly, but sometimes at the cost of her own personal happiness. It was something that often left her, Mickie James, conflicted with her career-choice. Sitting in the Diva’s locker room, Mickie sighed as a plump blonde woman named Sandy bustled around her and applied the remainder of her make-up.

A woman in a furry white hood and black whiskers painted on her face sidled up to her, a concerned look on her face. “What’s the matter honey?” the costumed Diva asked.
Mickie glanced toward her friend Maria Kanellis and shrugged. “Nothing,” the brown-eyed woman answered as she straightened her headband and readjusted her beads.
RAW’s resident airhead glared suspiciously, but the cat ears on her head and little black drawn-on nose didn’t make it a very threatening look.
“You aren’t still depressed over him are you?”
Again, the former Champion shrugged. “Why should I be? If he wants to be with Victoria, fine. At least he didn’t go behind my back.”
Maria patted Mickie’s arm with her fluffy white paw. “You’re too brave sometimes, MJ,” she said, her voice a mixture of awe and sympathy. "I was a wreck for ages after Phil and I broke up."
Mickie knew this, as she had been the one Maria had run to for comfort. She opened her mouth to reply, but her words died in her throat as she was drowned out by a sudden yodeling from across the locker room. Startled, Mickie and Maria looked around, and sure enough, they found Jillian, dressed to the nine’s in her Brittany Spears costume, imitating the pop star. Rolling her eyes, Mickie shifted in her chair. While it made for great TV, Jillian’s love for Brittany was all but kayfabe, and sometimes it was really just annoying.
“Sometimes I just wish she’d go back to SmackDown,” she muttered conspiratorially under her breath as she glared at the top-heavy blonde across the room as she stood hogging the biggest mirror and doing vocal warm-ups into her hairbrush. “Then we wouldn’t have to travel with her.”
The backstage interviewer followed her line of sight and watched as their newest Diva, fresh from the Draft, fluffed her hair and winked at herself. Mickie laughed as she saw Lilian, an extremely accomplished (and now authenticated) vocalist, grimace at the nasal-y squealing sounds that came from Jillian’s throat.
Sliding out of her chair, Mickie thanked Sandy, who had silently laughed with them over RAW’s pop addict, and grinned wryly at Maria. “Well, I’m going to go make my case,” she said.
“You bet sugar, good luck!” her friend winked at her as she slid into the chair that the former Champion had just vacated. As she turned to leave, Mickie was caught by the younger Diva's hand and she stared into her friend's suddenly serious face. "Don't feel so down, hun," she said softly. "There will be someone else that'll make you even happier than he did. Look at Randy and I!" The brown-eyed woman grinned wanely at the backstage interviewer and nodded. With a bright smile, Maria released her friend and let her go on, striking up conversation with the middle-aged make-up artist who was zipping up her many cosmetic pouches as she watched her fellow Diva leave.

Mickie exited the locker room in search of the film crew so she could plead for the fans’ votes, but as she turned a corner she found herself hitting something solid and warm. With a slight cry, Mickie stumbled backwards, her little Native American princess skirt riding up above her thighs. A string of four-letter words swam in her ears as a hand lashed out and grabbed her arm, steadying her.
As she regained her footing, Mickie found a concerned and harried looking Jeff Hardy balancing her. His hair was a plethora of fresh-looking rainbow colors and in complete disarray, as one side of his head was covered in damp, bright blue and orange ponytails, the other half inky black and hanging free; in his hand was a plastic bottle filled with a bright green liquid. They stared at each other for a few minutes before he rushed into his apologies.
“Darn, I’m sorry Ms. James,” he said, and she was surprised to hear a slow, lilting drawl escape from his lips. Even with all her time on the same roster with him, she had never heard his real voice before.
It certainly doesn’t fit with his image, she mused, eyeing his flashy hair, baggy pants and fishnet sleeves.
“Are you OK?” he asked, studying her intently, and she felt that he was really looking at her. Under his close inspection, she found herself only able to nod slightly.
“Um…yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attent-”
“Jeff, God damn it!” the sudden yell of Ken “Mr. Kennedy” Anderson came from down the hallway and cut her off. “Quit flirting, man, and let’s go! We’re about to witness the fans “choose” Shawn Michaels.”
“Flirting?” Jeff blushed as the Green Bay Gladiator stalked up to them, his arms crossed indignantly in preparation for his performance later on. Mickie had to admit that Ken got into gimmick pretty well. He certainly made his character one that fans loved to hate and hated to love.
“Come on, diva-boy, hurry it up! The rest of us are still waiting for you and Marianna to finish with your crazy-ass hair!” His recent on-screen rival tugged at his still-wet Technicolor tresses, and Jeff smacked his hand away.
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, waving his hand at the former Money-in-the-Bank winner, and Mickie noted how quickly he had hidden his accent. Glancing inquisitively at him, she raised an eyebrow. Tossing a lazy smile at the confused woman, he winked and turned away, following the loudmouth back to the locker room.
With her mind still in disarray Mickie adjusted her skirt and wandered down the corridor aimlessly, surprising herself as she began thinking that his accent was rather cute.

“Well damn, who’s the hottest Halloween Diva of them all?” Torrie Wilson crowed as Mickie entered the locker room. Melina Perez poked the Indian Princess and grinned.
“Shall we do a Rain Dance now?” She teased. "I hear this area's had a bit of a drought lately."
“I don’t think the Gods of the Earth respond well to Vegas show girls,” Mickie shot back, making the girls double over with giggles.
Melina gave her fellow former Women’s Champion a mock glare before agreeing.
“Yeah, not exactly a picture of spirituality, huh,” she quipped, sending the group of Divas into a renewed fit of laughter.
“Candy might say differently,” Maria said.
The girls were suddenly solemn at the mention of their injured friend.
“I’m sure she’ll call soon, she told me that she’d be watching at home,” Lisa Marie supplied as she squirmed her way out of her Sumo costume. “She hates to be missing a Pay-Per-View. I talked to her the night before last.”
“How’s she feeling?” Brooke asked.
“Sore; tired mostly. She said the surgery left her woozy. They have her on strict bed rest, and she says it’s driving her nuts.”
This made them chuckle and nod knowingly; Candice hated being idle, for any reason.
“Beth feels really bad about the whole thing,” Michelle McCool as Eve said of their current Women’s Champion, who was currently staying with RAW’s resident sexpot. “She had a feeling that she shouldn’t have done that Spot, even though they had practiced it a thousand times.”
“You can’t stop it from happening, though. I mean, look at Jeff!” Maria pointed out. Jeff Hardy, they all knew, was the king of Missed Spots.
“Ah, but you can’t compare him to Candice,” Barbie said, removing her pimp hat and using a cleansing cloth to remove her make-up. “Jeff goes full tilt on everything, not just his in-ring moves. You know he has that tendency to act first think never.”
This cracked the girls up, save for Mickie, who wondered how her friends knew things like this about a man who seemed like such a mystery to her. Was she missing something? Furrowing her brow, the brunet left the girls to their chatter about the rainbow-haired Superstar as she began to work her way out of her costume. For some reason, it really bothered her that her fellow Divas were able to talk about Jeff with such certainty when she knew next to nothing about him. They’d been on the same brand for ages, but here were newer girls on different shows talking about him like they’d known him all their lives. Dropping her princess outfit in her duffel back, she dressed in her street clothes and packed the rest of her things.
It’s because you spent all your time wrapped up in Ken, her mind snipped at her. Fat load of good that did you!
Her head spinning with thoughts of her ex, Mickie waved a half-hearted goodbye to her friends, grabbed her bag, and headed out the locker room door.

Eh. I had this written for months, just after Jeff was injured by Umaga, but I ended up letting it sit until now, so instead of having the feud with Melina and Jillian before Candy won the title be the starting point, I decided to use Cyber Sunday, seeing as I was there and all. WOOT! Hope you enjoy!
One more note, it stated on good ol' Wiki that Micks and Kenny had broken up, but it didn’t say that today. Either way, for all story purposes, the two are no longer seeing each other. YAY!