A/N: My first Christmas fic for Vera. I hope you enjoy it, doll :) Not originally what I intended, but I like the way it turned out. As always, R&R please!

Song used is "Seventy Times 7", by Brand New. I (obviously) don't own the song.

Warnings: If you don't like femslash, now might be the time to leave.


It was a night that she would never forget, one that nothing could have ever prepared her for. Amy Dumas didn't know it, but by the end of the night, her world would be in pieces around her and her life in shambles. It would all occur so suddenly and without warning, and would leave her totally devastated.

Amy wasn't scheduled to appear on the RAW show tonight, but she decided to show up anyway to wish her girlfriend good luck, since she had a match against Victoria. The blonde woman had many reservations about the outcome of the match; even after Amy had assured her several times that she was going to win. And just for additional moral support, Amy had decided at the last minute to show up at the taping and give Trish another pep talk.

As she rounded the corner, Amy broke into a smile at the thought of surprising her girlfriend. She could almost see the Canadian beauty's big brown eyes sparkling with joy and her lips turning up into a smile. She had no clue what she was in for, and by the end of the night, she'd find herself wishing that she'd never came.

The fiery redhead rapped on the door of Trish's dressing room lightly, her knuckles connecting with the smooth wood of the door. Three times she knocked, and no one answered. The redhead checked her watch quickly and noticed that it was 8:05. If Trish wasn't in her dressing room, maybe she was in Victoria's, preparing for the match. She walked down the hallway swiftly, not really paying attention to anyone or stopping. She just hoped she'd catch Trish in time.

Pretty much everyone in the back knew of Amy and Trish's relationship, and it wasn't really a big deal…in fact, Amy couldn't believe how well most of their fellow co-workers had taken the news. Victoria was actually the one who had encouraged them to go public with the news, seeing as she had been in a similar situation only a few months earlier when she and Torrie had announced that they were dating. Trish had been a little reluctant—she'd always cared more about what people thought about her than Amy did—but in the end, she agreed that it was the best thing to do. The day after tomorrow was their five-month anniversary and Amy had planned a night out on the town for the two of them, a night where they could finally be alone, without any interruptions or prior engagements to hold them back.

Amy stopped to catch her breath when she came up on the dressing room that Mickie James occupied. Her nose wrinkled in disdain when she saw the name, and she rolled her eyes and sighed. Mickie was kind of the new girl on the block, so to speak and no one on the roster, except for Trish, really cared for her that much. She had a personality that was so hyper that it bordered on psychotic, and she had one of those voices that made listening to a person chewing on glass sound soothing. The brunette was always following Trish around and while Amy understood that it was part of her on-screen persona; it was still a bit annoying. Especially when she wanted time alone with Trish and Mickie always insisted on coming along. The former Women's Champion often had to bite her tongue and hold back what she really wanted to say to Mickie. She needs to get a life…and not Trish's. Unlike Amy, Trish wasn't as vocal with her feelings, and she didn't want to hurt Mickie's by telling her that she was getting fed-up with her constantly trailing behind her. Apparently she thought it was sweet that Mickie emulated her so much, but it made Amy sick.

She tilted her head curiously as sounds of what seemed to be moaning filled her ears, and Amy pressed her head to the door, trying to get a better listen. It was most definitely the sound of moaning, and quite possibly…kissing? The woman pulled her head away from the door for a brief second, curious as to whom the other person was. One of them was Mickie, obviously—it was her dressing room—but what about the other person? As far as Amy knew, Mickie wasn't in a relationship with any of the other Divas…in fact; the only person that Mickie had a crush—make that obsession —on was Trish.
She wouldn't, Amy told herself. Stop being ridiculous. Just because Mickie is madly in love with Trish doesn't mean Trish feels the same way…she wouldn't. But that one little seed of doubt was already planted firmly in her mind, and now she had to know what was going on behind that door. Screw knocking on the door, if it was Trish in there—and there was this nagging little feeling that it might be—Amy was hell bent on getting in there. She grabbed the door knob firmly and twisted it open.

To suspect that the one you love is cheating on you is one thing, but to actually catch the person in the act is entirely another. Sure, Amy had been experiencing feelings of doubt, but never in her worst nightmares would she ever have thought that they'd be true, and that she'd actually find herself in this moment, where her whole world was crumbling in front of her.

Amy was standing in the corner of the room, just out of eyesight, frozen in shock. The woman that she had been best friends with for almost her entire career was standing in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around the psycho Diva, Mickie, and her lips tangled with the brunette's own. Mickie's hands were gently stroking Trish's hair as the two of them kissed, completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. There was a look of total bliss on Trish's face and Amy wanted nothing more than to rip Mickie away from her and break her jaw.

Back in school they never taught us what we needed to know,
Like how to deal with despair, or someone breaking your heart.

The moaning continued as Mickie's hands left Trish's hair and roamed down the blonde's waist, finally resting on the other woman's hips. A wave of anger roared in Amy's mind—she was the one who put that look on Trish's face on a daily basis, not Mickie—and she couldn't help but keep thinking about the ways she would make Mickie pay later.

"Mmmm, Trish…." Mickie whispered, as she slowly stroked a finger along Trish's cheek. "You taste so good."

That was enough for Amy. She charged toward the two, not caring if anyone else heard them or not, and pulled the shorter woman off of Trish swiftly.

"What the hell is going on here?" she yelled, looking back and forth between them. While Mickie's face had a look of surprise, Trish's had one of guilt, and was deathly pale. She knows she's been caught, Amy thought. Mickie's mouth was hanging open slightly, and she cleared her throat to speak.

"Um, well, Amy, you see," she stammered, trying to come up with what Amy knew would be a bullshit explanation for what she'd just seen. The little spectacle had gone on for far longer than it should have, and based on what she'd just seen, it had been going on for even longer than she'd thought. Both of the women were scrambling for explanations, but the redhead didn't want to hear anything that Mickie had to say. Trish needed to speak up, and she needed to do it now, while Amy was still fairly calm.

"Shut up, Mickie," she hissed angrily, as she shot the girl a death glare. The woman turned back to Trish. "Well, Patricia? Care to tell me just what the fuck is going on here?"

I remember I kept thinking that I know you never would,
And now I know I want to kill you like only a best friend could.

"Amy, I'm sorry," the Women's Champion spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. She clasped her hands in front of her and kept her eyes to the ground. She knew she'd been caught and that there was no going back now. The blonde-haired woman had to face the consequences, no matter how severe they might be. Judging by Amy's mood, forgiveness was not going to be a course on the main menu tonight.

So don't apologize. I hope you choke and die.
Search your cell for something with which to hang yourself
.

"You're SORRY?" she screamed, even louder this time. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Trish. And don't feed me some bullshit excuse about how this is the first time this has ever happened, and it will never happen again, because from the looks of the little show you two were putting on, this has apparently been going on for a while. So tell me, how long have you been fucking around with Little Miss Psycho over here behind my back?" She was absolutely livid. The two of them were coming up on their anniversary and while it hadn't always been smooth sailing, the past few months had been much better—at least that's what Amy had thought.

She wasn't really ready for the answer, and yet, she needed to know. If this really was a one-time thing, then maybe she'd let it slide…maybe. But deep down inside, Amy knew that this had been a regular thing for a while now. She pushed her long, red hair back and stared at Trish pointedly, still waiting for the answer.

"Well?" she demanded. "How long? A couple of days, a couple of weeks, what?"

"Six weeks." Trish blurted out, her face now a deep shade of red.

The room grew eerily silent. Amy let what she had just heard set in. Six weeks. Six fucking weeks. There went any chance of "letting it slide" out the window. The fact that this little liaison had been going on for six weeks obviously meant that Trish had grown bored with their relationship and needed something more exciting. Or something. It was all the redhead could do not to break down and cry right there. She'd always been perceived as a tough-as-nails chick, one who rolled with the punches and didn't let anything bother her. Most of the time that was true, but then again, Amy had never been sidelined by anything like this either. The one person she fully confided in, the one she'd given her heart to, without reservations, after so many failed relationships and vows of never letting anyone get close to her again, had just stabbed her right through the heart.

They say you need to pray if you want to go to heaven
But they don't tell you what to say when your whole life has gone to hell.

"Amy, I'm sorry," Trish repeated, a bit of hesitation in her voice as she took her girlfriend's hand in her own and brought it to her lips. "I love you. This thing with Mickie, it was never meant to go on for as long as it did." She shot a look at Mickie, who seemed to be hurt by this remark. Her brown orbs turned back to Amy's face, gauging the hurt and confusion there. "You have to believe that I never meant to hurt you."

When you say best friends means friends forever

Amy shoved her hand away.

"You fucking bitch," she hissed, not caring when a wave of hurt washed over Trish's face. "Our anniversary is tomorrow—did you even think about that? Or have you been too busy fucking Mickie to remember?" She stepped back when Trish tried to grab her hand again.

And I can't let you, let me down again

"You know what? Fuck you, Patricia," she said slowly. "I thought you were my best friend, I thought we had a good thing going here. I guess I couldn't give you what you wanted," she wrinkled her nose again and looked at Mickie, and then continued, "but you're welcome to horse-face here, sweetie. Don't let me stop you from going after what you seem to want."

Trish shook her head and tried to speak, tried to tell Amy that she was the one she wanted, and that this wasn't going to happen again, but the other woman was having none of it. Yeah, it was going to hurt, but Amy wasn't going to give in and let herself be sucked right back into this whole mess again. What really hurt her the most was losing the woman that she had shared so much of her career with—the highlights, the low points, the nights where she thought that she'd never be respected no matter what she did, everything. But she was not going to be made out to look like a fool again.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Trish. I'm going back to the hotel to get your things. I'll leave them in your dressing room after the show." She glared back at the Canadian.

She turned on her heel to leave, but before she left, she added,

"Oh, and I hope you enjoy the bed you made. I'm sure that Mickie will be more than happy to lie with you in it." And while she still could, while the adrenaline was still pumping through the veins, giving her courage, she turned and left the two women.

The journey down the hallway had never seemed this long before, and Amy was grateful when she reached the parking lot. She didn't start crying until she was already on the highway, and even then she really didn't let loose. Somehow, even though the events of the night were earth-shattering, she didn't really feel like crying. Maybe it wouldn't hit her until later, but right now, at this moment, Amy Dumas felt completely fine. She knew that in the end, Trish would come back to her, begging and pleading for forgiveness. A sigh escaped her lips as she pulled into the parking lot of her hotel. It was going to be quite a long night.

And I can't let you, let me down again


Well, that's it. I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out. Be gentle on me with your review—this is my first real femslash.