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In vast contrast to how she looked the night of the failed wedding, Vickie Guerrero smirked as she stood facing him. There was a definite gleam of hatred in her dark eyes as she spoke.
"Well, well, well... My dear ex-fiance, very good of you to stop by."
Punk, although exasperated, didn't show his true emotions.
"Chavo told me you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, of course," the General Manager said, folding her hands and smiling deviously. "I've got plans for you tonight, Edge... Big plans."
"Just tell me what to expect already," the man said, this time showing his lack of patience. He knew the woman was enjoying this, but it was just his bum luck she had no clue she was punishing the wrong man.
Vickie's smile vanished and was replaced by a look of anger.
"You'll be competing in a match tonight," she declared, pointing a finger at him. "And it will be no holds barred."
Punk took in everything and nodded.
"That's fine." He eyed her expectantly, but the matronly woman didn't offer him anymore details. Then, "So, who's my opponent?"
Vickie's expression hardened even more, and she fully scowled at him.
"That's for me to know and you to find out. And don't forget to have your little floozy at ringside during the match."
Inwardly, Punk groaned as he rolled his eyes. Of course the GM wasn't going to indulge him by informing him whom he would be facing. Maryse in his corner during the match, however? Although he didn't like the French-Canadian diva, that might just work out in his favor. At least she could help him somehow, if by no other means than distracting his opponent with her stunning looks.
"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, Edge!" Guerrero snapped. "You're the one who messed things up - you! Do you know how badly you humiliated me?!"
Punk eyed her, tired of this situation. What did he care about all the Vickie and Edge drama? He sighed.
"I have a bit of an idea," he said.
"No, you don't!" the woman screeched. "But I'm going to teach you a little about what happens when you cross Vickie Guerrero." Then, the smile made a triumphant return. "Enjoy your match out there. Now, get the hell out of my office!"
He turned around, fully prepared to leave.
"Wait!"
Punk turned around reluctantly, only to be met with a massive slap to the face. His head actually rocked to the side with the force of the blow.
"Now you can go," the General Manager stated, a smug, satisfied look on her face.
Dejectedly, the Straightedge superstar obeyed. Then, as he left the office and stepped out into the hallway, two very familiar forms appeared in his line of vision. He couldn't help but stare as he stood there, a pain forming and growing steadily deeper inside him as he watched.
Ashley and Edge - in his body, no less - were just entering the arena. They were fumbling with luggage as they were coming through the doors of the arena, and Punk's heart damn near stopped when the diva suddenly looked up and saw him.
The Punk Princess wore the oddest expression on her face as she eyed him. There was a definite sadness in her eyes, and her lips parted ever so slightly. Her gaze was steady and locked on his, and he suddenly wondered if she had seen his email.
Strange as it was seeing his own body passing him right by, Punk was nevertheless powerless to think of anything or anyone else but Ashley at that moment. His Ashley. His mouth ran dry as she kept on walking past him, but then, she turned her head to give him one last glance.
What was that he'd detected on her face? Longing?
Punk stood there as though rooted to the spot until the diva and the nemesis in his body vanished from his sight. Then, he started to finally head back to his locker room when he was suddenly met en route by Maryse. She appeared frantic.
"Edge? What's dis I hear about you fighting Big Show?! Is zis true?!" There was clear worry in the blonde's brown eyes.
So, that was who his opponent was for the night? The Big Show? Okay, the man was huge - colossal, actually - but he could handle that. At the moment, all he could really focus on was Ashley, and the way she'd looked at him mere moments prior.
"Don't worry," he told Maryse almost absently. "I got this." He patted her on the upper back. "I got this."