Tempers and Passions

The bar was nice enough, a simple cellar conversion with well-spaced tables and few chairs, the kind of bar that rarely had more than ten patrons at a time, but gave them a private place to enjoy their drinks. The décor was minimalist and tastefully presented, although like so many others Jackie had encountered in her time since arriving in Japan, it didn't have that worn, honest quality to it that she missed from a good Irish pub. Everything felt too clean here, too fresh, like it wasn't supposed to have people in there cluttering it up. It was like drinking on a movie set made to look like a bar - all appearance, no substance.

Still, the stuff behind the counter was good at least. It had taken some time and a lot of legwork to find a place that served Guiness, and not the crap in a can either, the proper draught stuff. The locals didn't seem to have much of a taste for the stuff, but this place was stocked with a wide array of specialty beers, spirits and other alcoholic beverages from around the world for those with a more adventurous palette. The wide range came at a price though; import fees were high, and the cost was close to quadruple what she would have paid back home in Ireland.

Money wasn't an issue though. She wasn't the one paying.

The thought made Jackie smile, and even the slight sting of tenderness across her left cheek as her lips curled up at the corners couldn't steal it away. She'd been careless to take her attention of the lumbering idiot, a setback that could have cost her the match if she hadn't already beaten the tar out of Armando prior to that point. While she looked back on the match as an overall success, it had raised a few hard questions that the Irish woman now mulled over as she drank, alone with her own thoughts.

Jackie had never viewed her aggression as anything other than an asset, a quality that others simply didn't expect someone of her diminutive stature to possess or act upon. For every time that it had gotten her into trouble, she could recall a dozen more where it had given her the edge she had needed to overcome an obstacle, whether in the ring or in life in general. She'd never been tied down to one place since she'd been old enough to leave Catholic school, so it had been easy to simply move on to somewhere new when her fearsome anger had gone a little too far, but now she faced a quandary - she was tied here now, and there was no where else to go that wouldn't be a massive step down for her career. That meant she had to reconsider her approach.

It wasn't that she felt any regret for the victims of her fury, as she was almost incapable of caring for another person other than herself, relishing the opportunity to inflict pain on others whether physical or emotional. But she was aware, in a detached, coldly logical way, that her actions had repercussions on her future prospects now more than ever, and she had already jeopardized that twice since arriving in Japan - once by ambushing Armando at the bar, and the other by snapping in front of Patty. The latter she'd already taken steps to ensure wasn't an issue, and she flexed her left hand at the though, feeling the bandages wrapped around her palm. She'd wound up cutting herself trying to get the damn drill-bit fixed in place, although the effect had left a suitably terrifying impact on Ran - The daft bitch probably thought she'd pummelled someone bloody before she'd came over to intimidate her into line.

Armando, however, had been the result of a lot of pent-up aggression and boredom, a careless act on her part. She hadn't known he was a wrestler in the AFW at that time, but the evidence had been there for her to pick up on if she'd chosen to be more observant. She could have easily brushed him off and picked a more suitable target, but instead she'd gotten greedy and went for the first tug on the line. It had been satisfying (God, so very, very satisfying) to wipe the idiotic smirk from his face and leave it in a grimace instead, but it had complicated matters right when she was ready to debut. If he hadn't been so obliging in coming across as a raging asshole, she might not have gotten away with twisting the story around on him, making him appear like a raging drunk who had tried to take a "no" for a "yes". As it was, she'd come out of it looking like the strong, confident and self-determined woman, standing up against the aggression of a physically more dominant male that sought to objectify her, and the match had certainly struck a chord, especially amongst some of the younger female fans judging from the mail she received. She didn't read much of it, just enough to get the general idea of how the crowd was perceiving her.

What troubled her though was how close she'd come to screwing it all up right out the gate because she'd gotten bored. She doubted she'd have an issue like that again of course, the match offers were coming in thick and fast and it was simply a matter of choosing which to pursue next, but it was a sobering thought nonetheless. If Jackie wanted to maintain her image, she would have to act more carefully, and keep a tighter reign on her emotions - not to suppress them, but to use them to her advantage rather than letting them dictate her actions so readily.

She took a deep gulp of the thick, tarry black liquid, and set the glass back on the table, fidgeting with the cigarette stub still clutched in the fingers of her other hand. With the interview situation dealt with, that left Armando to consider, and he wasn't going to be simply intimidated into line - the man had a stubborn streak that had been an asset in their match, but now proved an obstacle. She wasn't overly worried about what she'd done to Armando getting out, since it already was out, merely with a twist on how it was perceived, but she knew if left unattended, he'd be a thorn in her side her entire career, seeking any and every means to discredit her. He needed to be leashed, and Jackie had a pretty good idea on how to do just that...

It was a late night at the Tension arena, long after all the matches had finished and the crowds left. Only a skeleton crew were running around the place. Janitors, people working in the various offices, security guards dealing with the occasional fan who’d decided to seriously overstay his welcome. The stage crew was breaking the place down, getting it ready for the next round of bouts.

Here Carmen was. Here Army was. Typically, they would have been long gone for the night. Carmen had her boxing class to set up for tomorrow, Army would probably have been out fucking with Ro and living it up when he should have been training. That was the rhythm their life had settled into since they’d come to Japan, getting used to it in their own ways and finding little niches to sink into. There was some culture shock at first, and they both still had their moments, but Carmen thought they were making a good thing out of it, fitting in all right.

Then Jackie came along, and suddenly all that went to hell.

Jackie was the reason, justified or not, that Army got the shit beat out of him in that bar. Jackie was the reason he got the shit beat out of him again in the match he was stupid enough to challenge her to. And Jackie was the reason they were both here, staying at the Tension arena in the after-hours. Because in order for Army to pay for the fountain of drinks Jackie would be downing off his money for the next year, he had to do something he’d been trying to avoid for his entire adult life: he had to get a normal job.

Namely, he’d managed to scrounge up some work as a janitor in the Tension arena. It was pretty much the only gig he could find on short notice, and since most of the employees in the arena spoke at least decent English, it was a good fit. It didn’t pay all that much, but he didn’t need to be rolling in money, he just needed enough to pay for Jackie’s bar tab, with a little left over to cover his medical expenses. It was boring, sure, but it would let Army stay out of the red without dipping into Carmen’s funds. Even though she would have let him. He was stubborn like that.

The two of them stood near a vending machine, making the most of Army’s ten minute break. His work cart was off to the side, filled with all sort of chemicals and scrubbers and a few tools that Carmen didn’t even recognize. The job had been rough to start for him, but he looked like he was finally getting used to it. Finding a black janitor jumpsuit for him to squeeze into hadn’t been easy, but he was making a snug fit of the one he had on. It made Carmen feel a little guilty, since she was dressed up for a night on the town with her ripped jeans, her studded boots, her blue t-shirt with Captain America’s shield on the front.

If Army minded, though, he didn’t say it out loud. Given all the arguments they’d had about his match with Jackie, they were actually managing to have the most pleasant conversation between them in a while. Reminiscing over Puerto Rico, talking about their childhoods and how he used to be such an annoying little brat...and still was, in many ways. She had only stopped by on her way to the city to hang with him for a few minutes, but it somehow turned into a hour. Life had been so busy that they hadn’t had any real quality time in a good, long while.

”Hey.” Army looked over his shoulder as he started messing with the cart again, mixing up some cleaning solution. The arena had a lot of bathrooms, so he had to make that stuff last. “You remember Tanque?”

Carmen folded her arms and blinked a few times as she leaned back against the vending machine. Thinking back, digging into her memory bank. The name did sound familiar, but… ”Tanque.” She rolled it on her tongue. ”Yeah, yeah, he was that kid who used to live on our street. Was that even his real name?”

”Fuck if I know.” He shrugged. ”Was just thinking about him a couple of hours ago.”

”Random.”

He shrugged again. ”Yeah, well, you get a lot of time to think about shit with this job. Not exactly brain intensive, you know?”

Carmen resisted the obvious joke and pushed off the machine, walking towards his side with a few lazy steps. ”Whatever happened to him?”

Army looked up and turned her way with his eyebrow at full tilt. ”You beat the shit out of him. Remember? He didn't get out much, after that.”

”I did?”

”You did.”

”I don’t remember that.”

”Well, you did.” He chuckled and started to fill out a spray bottle. ”I was, like, eight? Nine? I started crap with Tanque at the bus stop and he started slapping me around. Big fucker. Then you just came out of the house and went off, just decking the dude, sent him screaming home. Funniest crap ever.”

Carmen chuckled along with him, even though she still couldn’t remember it to save her life. It sounded funny. ”Cool story, bro.” It was about the only thing she could think to say.

”Thanks.” He looked back her way with a genuine smile. Not his usual, cheesy, cocky-as-hell smiles. A straight grin. ”I mean, I never got around to thanking you, I don’t think. So...thanks.”

Well. That made things awkward.

There was some silence between them for a few seconds, blank faces on the both. The best she could come up with was a half-whispered ”Yeah, you’re welcome. I guess?”

”Yeah. Anyway.” He started pushing the cart again, leaving her in the middle of the hall. ”I got to get going, head back to it. See you back at the house?”

"Peace." Carmen nodded as he went off, but she didn’t leave right then. Too wrapped up in her thoughts. Army was so big, it was easy to forget that he was still her ‘little brother’, sometimes. He tried to be a big man, handle his own stuff, but sometimes…

Her train of thought came to a halt when her phone buzzed, giving her a notification from the bank. She knew who it was before she took it out and gave it a look over. Jackie. She was already drawing her bar tab out for the night. And the alert was handy enough that it gave Carmen the address and everything, too.

Right then and there, Carmen had her crazy idea of the month.

It was just a short drive to the bar she was at, only ten minutes away. Sure enough, Jackie was still there by the time Carmen arrived. She didn’t figure the tiny terror was a quick drinker.

She stood at the door for a few moments, only moving aside when a couple of guys with too much booze on their breath brushed past her.on the way out. Staring straight at Jackie, locking on her, before she walked over and sat right beside her like they were just two strangers in the night. Calm and controlled. Cool and composed.

”Water.” She waved a hand at the bartender, and he started pouring her an ice-filled glass. Carmen looked to the side and glanced at what was left of Jackie’s glass. She knew enough about beverages to know what she was drinking didn’t come cheap in this part of the world.

”That looks pricey.” She spoke to Jackie, but looked away from her as her glass slid down the bar. She stopped it with a tap of her fingers, making the ice clink about inside. ”You’re drinking well tonight.”

Jackie was taking her time with her drinks, in no real hurry to be anywhere else and deep within her own thoughts. It was only when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled that she became aware that her surroundings had shifted, and she could hear the long, confident strides of an approaching figure. She glanced around in time to see the new arrival slide onto the stool next to hers, cool and collected, and order herself a water.

Well. Her evening had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Jackie had fully expected some manner of retaliation from Rodriquez, and given the man was as blunt as a steel chair to the head when it came to imagination she had expected some half-arsed attempt at an ambush. What she hadn't expected was for Army's sister to confront her instead. A slow smile crept across Jackie's lips, as Carmen turned her attention to the Irish woman.

"Yeah, getting a taste of home isn't easy to do in this town," she said in a relaxed tone, not showing any distress at the taller woman's arrival as she tilted the glass up and sank the last of it in an appreciative gulp, smacking her lips as she set the glass back down, "You'll have to thank your brother for me. Sure I can't tempt you to more than a water?" She added, with a smile that held little warmth or humour, "Come on, my treat."

Carmen hadn't been able to tell that much from Jackie when she first saw her. In the ring, she looked normal enough. Small, sure, but Carmen had seen way smaller even in the AFW. Feisty, maybe even a little crazy for taking on a guy twice her size, but she had to admire that. On the surface, it seemed like a simple underdog story. The little, brave girl taking on the mean bruiser, the sort of thing Tension was founded on.

But now that Carmen was here and she was up close with Jackie, listening to her speak, hearing that strange and relaxed tone in her voice, she was starting to see what threw Army off so much about her. Something about this girl was just off. She wasn't nearly as cute as she  had been in the aftermath of the fight, walking out to the cheer from thousands of her new fans.  She gave off a tingle, a weird vibe that seemed to make Carmen's skin crawl, even though she was dealing with a woman who was at least a whole foot shorter than her.

"Thanks, but no thanks." She took a few light sips of her water, wanting to make the drink last. She had no idea how long this would take. Or even what 'this' was supposed to be. "Want to stay lucid. Especially considering what you did to the last member of my family who got drunk around you."

"Suit yourself," Jackie said with a light shrug, not seeming put out by the refusal, "Although in my defence what happened to your brother was about his libido calling the shots for him, so I hope we wouldn't have the same issue here," she added with a chuckle. She took a moment to glance to the barman, tapping the now empty glass in a silent order for another, giving herself a little time to think and consider the position she now found herself in. Carmen was around the same height as her brother, and while not as thick with muscle she clearly had lean power in those arms and legs of hers. That didn't concern Jackie so much - if things came down to a fight, she'd taken on bigger and heavier women than Army's sister and left them sobbing wrecks - but Jackie didn't know a whole lot about Carmen, what buttons she could push to get her to act the way she wanted her to. Jackie was always reluctant to enter into a fight with an unknown variable like that...and then she realised she was already thinking of this as an inevitable fight just waiting to happen. Just a few minutes ago, she'd been musing on how her temper could lead her into a jeopardizing position, and yet here she was again, different bar, different circumstances, same problem. She let out a sigh and looked back to Carmen, still uncertain to the woman's intent, and changed her tact a little.

"Look, I can figure why you're here," she began, as the barman took the empty glass and replaced it with a fresh one of thick, black Guiness, "And I'm willing to bet you've not told your brother you're doing this, because he's a stubborn git and I'm sure it would sting his pride to know his sister stepped up to have words with the mean girl that picked on him. But before this goes any further, let me make a few things perfectly clear."

Jackie took a quick sip from her drink, and then turned herself around to face Carmen directly, meeting her eyes with an unwavering stare, "Your brother has underestimated me twice now. The first time he thought I was just a little girl playing hard to get, and the second time he thought I couldn't hack it in the ring with the big boys. All I have done is give him a damn good reason not to underestimate me a third time, and if you think I'm a bitch for wanting to be taken seriously, rather than just ogled by the meatheads out there who watch the AFW stuff for the girls in skimpy costumes, then you're abso-fucking-lutely correct."

Behind the mask of righteous indignation, Jackie watched for Carmen's reaction. Her approach was confrontational, but the Irish woman wondered if claiming the moral high-ground would puncture whatever aggression the Puerto Rican woman felt towards her, or only add more fuel to the fire...

Carmen stayed quiet and let Jackie have her say. She kept her look still and composed, not because she was trying to put on some fake airs of superiority, but because she was trying to think. Contemplate the situation. The bartender was giving them both a wary eye, and Carmen wasn't sure if it was warranted or not. She hadn't planned on starting a fight here, but she realized it was a strong possibility. She'd seen Jackie fight. Jackie hadn't seen her fight. So she was as sure as sure could be that she'd have the advantage if that's what it came down to. She was just hoping otherwise.

"Here's why I don't completely buy what you're selling." Carmen kept her eyes forward as her finger traced around the rim of the glass. "My brother is a 'git', you're right about that. But he's an honest git, always has been. Deception is just too complex for him, really, he could never do it right." Outside of the ring or in it. She never could get him to use feints the right way in a match. "So when he tells me he didn't have something coming, I'm inclined to believe him. But when you add this into the mix..." Carmen tapped Jackie's drink. "Things get complicated. Army wouldn't lie, but just because he's not lying doesn't mean he's tell the truth. There is such a thing as just being wrong. I wasn't there, Army wasn't there mentally, so the only person who really knows what happened here is you. And, bottom line? I don't know you. Period."

She swung around in the bar stool so she could face Jackie right on. Height wasn't going to intimidate her. If Jackie didn't balk at taking Army on, Carmen wasn't going to do it for her, either. But Carmen prided herself on not being her brother in these situations. He had her beat in size and strength, but in other areas...

"So I'm not interested in what happened that night. If it was just that, I wouldn't care so much. What I am interested in, though, is that match. That's what I'm here about." She folded her arms and leaned back. Still trying to get a read on this woman.

The two women sat in silence for a moment as they considered one another carefully. Jackie took the opportunity to take a deeper drink, letting the thick liquid swim in her mouth before a gulp brought it down her gullet. Her knuckles had started to itch, but Jackie ignored the urge to give in to the rising swell of anger bubbling up in her chest. She wanted to see how well she could sell herself as the aggrieved one here.

"Well here's the thing about that," she began, setting the glass back down, "I'm not here to justify myself to you. Your brother called me out, I laid down the terms, and he agreed to them because he thought he could take me, and he paid for it," she shook her head, giving a rueful chuckle, "Fuck me, we really come from different parts of the world. In Ireland, if you beat someone in a fight, they buy the next round, but you Puerto Ricans turn it into a bloody vendetta!"

Jackie let a little of her anger show in her body language, not the full force of it, but enough to come across as exasperated as the conversation. She let her fingers go to her pocket, fishing a packet of cigarettes from the jeans she wore, and reaching into the short leather jacket she had hanging from the backrest of her chair to produce a lighter. Her black green halter top glowed for a moment as she it up, drew a deep pull, and let the smoke sigh through her teeth. She offered one to Carmen as she continued, "I'm not going to bullshit you, our match was always going to get brutal. He was angry and I was fucking livid, neither of us were ever going to hold back. But you're a wrestler too, same as me - we both know you can't go all out and not expect some injuries along the way. So I'm not going to apologise for beating the shit out of your brother, if that's what you were hoping for, because he's a grown man and he made his decision. You and I don't have to have an issue here, unless you want to make this personal."

Carmen frowned a bit at the 'you Puerto Ricans' part of Jackie's speech, but kept it down otherwise. Carmen would give her credit, she had spirit, energy, drive. She would have liked to see her compete in a boxing ring, someday. Her sport could use more women like that. More women, period.

She waved the cigarette away - she hadn't smoked in years and she wasn't about to go back for something like this. "I was in Ireland. Briefly, two years back, after the Summer Olympics. Took a tour of the islands. Wasn't there long, but I did stumble on a barfight. Didn't go quite like that." So far as Carmen knew. Maybe they made up at the hospital, afterwards.

"You know your people better than me, so, fine. But let me tell you about 'us Puerto Ricans'." She propped her elbow on the bar and finished off the glass, clearing her throat out before she went on. "Family is everything. It's not like with a lot of American families, where everyone is spread out. Puerto Rico is small, real small, and pretty much my entire family lives in this one city in it. We all know each other. Close." She brought her hands together and grasped them tight. "So when one of us gets hurt, all of us feel it. So when I see my brother in the hospital, bruised all over, hardly breathing, I start to wonder things."

"I don't care if you want to apologize or not." She parted her hands and gave the glass back to the bartender, looking for a refill. "But I want to have all the facts. And there's something I'm still curious about. What happened when the cameras couldn't catch you two in the locker room?"

"You mean after your brother tossed a bloody bench at me?" Jackie said, a little testily. Her nerves were starting to wear at this interrogation, "Like I said, things got brutal. It was no-holds barred after all, and it wasn't like your brother was holding anything back. Outweighed nearly twice over, about a foot in height difference, you think I could afford to pull my fucking punches? Your brother would have done as much to me as I did to him if he had even the hint of a chance," she was practically snarling the words now, rubbing at her cheek that was still a little swollen from that last swing Armando had mustered, "So stop trying to sell me on the fact that your brother is such an honest fucking treasure, because otherwise he wouldn't have tried to pull those dusters on me would he?"

What Jackie was saying was a gamble, but it was a calculated bet. Carmen had said she was here to find out what happened in the locker room, which meant either Armando hadn't told her, or she was playing ignorant and just wanted to hear her side of things. If it was the former, getting in the first word would make Armando seem guilty; if it was the latter, the fact Carmen wasn't simply taking his word for it meant there was room for doubt in her mind. She pressed on with a spiteful grin.

"What, did your darling brother fail to mention the bit where he tried to slip them on? I kicked them out of his hands, put them on, and beat the ever-loving shit out of him before he could do the same to me. Why did you think he wanted you to leave when you turned up at ringside with him? He didn't want you around to see him have to resort to cheap fucking tricks to beat me," Jackie gestured as she spoke, taking in her diminutive form, "Or he figured you'd try to stop him, fucked if I know. Either way, the way I left him in that fight? That's what he wanted to do to me."

Jackie paused to take a deep drag on the cigarette, but she kept herself alert to Carmen's movements in case she made a move. She was treading on thin ice, she knew that well enough, but she was ready for the moment it broke.

Carmen let that roll around in her head for a few minutes, before coming to an obvious conclusion. "That's bullshit."

Carmen had a little chuckle as she took the next incoming glass of water. She'd been on the fence, until right then. Jackie had a believable story, and she probably would have been able to get that past just anyone else. If Carmen had accepted the drink earlier, she might have even fell for it, too, at least until she got sober. Army hadn't told her anything about what happened in that room, but she'd been able to fill in some blanks on her own just by looking at his body, and things she was saying just didn't fit.

"I'm sorry, I just don't buy any of that." She took a quick gulp of water and wagged her finger. "I change Army's diaper, I know him pretty well, and I've never seen him use anything like that. The thought wouldn't cross his mind. It's just not him, ever. On top of that, his boxing shorts don't even have pockets, so what'd he do? Shove them in underwear?"

She just rolled her eyes and took another sip. "So, no, that's a lie, I think. I'm pretty sure. And if you're lying about that, I wonder what else you're lying about."