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*RAW, June 21, 2004*
Torrie Wilson smirked as she eyed the other woman. They were in the divas' locker room, and all the women present were preparing for the show tonight. Well, some of them, that was - Torrie herself didn't have anything scheduled for that night - not a match, not a promo, not even an appearance. But Amy, of course, had her storyline with Matt. The platinum blonde didn't enjoy that one bit. In fact, she hated that her boyfriend had to play affectionate with the bitch.
Amy got up to leave the room, but Torrie rose to block her way.
"Excuse you, Torrie." The redhead glared into her eyes, not in the least bit intimidated. She arched an eyebrow, stretching an arm out in the direction of the doorhandle.
"I want to tell you," the tall blonde said, an unamused look on her own face, "I don't like your storyline with Matt."
"Yeah?" the redhead said. "Well, that makes two of us, because I *hate* it."
"Yeah? You sure don't *look* like you hate it when you're sucking face with *my* man." Torrie's blue eyes remained hard as she fixed them on the slightly shorter woman's hazel.
Amy wanted to puke. Never during this stupid storyline had she 'sucked face' with that bastard. All and any kisses she'd been required to engaged in had been dry, fake kisses on her part. God, she hated Matt.
"You have got to be kidding me," the redhead said with disgust. "Now, move out of my way." She pushed Torrie aside slightly, leaving through the door.
Amazingly, the blonde followed her out into the hall.
"I'm warning you," she said. "Ease up on my boyfriend, you bitch!"
Amy turned to face the other woman, her expression beyond annoyed. She despised Torrie Wilson just about as much as she did Matt.
"Go to hell, Torrie," she spat. "In case you are too stupid to remember, I'm *married*. And I couldn't care less about your precious scumbag Matt Hardy... Or should I say 'Hardly'?"
Torrie's eyes widened in shock. How dare this woman speak to her that way?!
"You know what?" she challenged, one hand going to her hip, head cocking to one side. "You're lucky you're pregnant, otherwise I'd knock your block off!"
The redhead let out a deep, hearty laugh.
"No, the shoe is on the other foot," she countered. "*You're* lucky I'm pregnant." Then, all traces of amusement left her face as she glared at her nemesis, and she continued on her way down the hallway to her husband's locker room.
Torrie stared after her, a scowl on her face. She'd show Amy... Somehow, someday, when the other woman was least expected it, she would show her.
*
"I'm just sick of it," she told him, ducking her head against his chest.
Adam held her tightly, his touch gentle as he stroked his wife's hair. He wondered if maybe he would have to have another talk with Eric Bischoff.
*
Torrie, meanwhile, was currently in Matt's locker room. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, her face red with anger.
"I can't believe the way that bitch spoke to me!" she cried.
"It's okay, Tor," the dark-haired man said, hugging her to him. "Don't worry... I'll take care of her - and Adam, too - once and for all."
The blonde woman looked up into his face plaintively.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet," Matt admitted, "but when I do, I'll do it. I promise."