Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Title is a lyric from the song 'Shake It Out' by Florence + The Machine.

CUT IT DOWN AND RESTART

Once Lana and Dolph had made their way backstage, both smiling and Dolph wiping at his lips, as though Lana did not wear smudge-proof lipstick, that Dolph turned to her and suggested that they get dinner together.

"Just dinner, some making-out, hey I'm enjoying myself. If you wanna invite Instagram to get a flavor of the night, then that's cool too. Or it could just be us, you know, a little more getting-to-know-you time."

Lana raised her perfectly-shaped eyebrows and regarded him with a knowing smile. This man was everything she had loathed for so long – he was decadent and arrogant and seemed to lack discipline. But there was more to this American who bleached his hair and played to the crowds. He had said that her opinion mattered and that she should be treated with respect. Now he wanted to buy her dinner. He was surprising.

Lana nodded and Dolph grinned.

"All right, I'll come find you in an hour?"

That was acceptable and Lana said so. Dolph touched her waist; the gesture felt affectionate rather than proprietary. There was great interest in his eyes before he walked away. It left warmth coursing through Lana and a lightness and electricity, not what she was used to at all.

Rusev had always made her feel as strong and powerful as he was. He had been a friend and lover and Lana had been proud to stand at his side. They had been of the same mind – to show America how true patriots behaved and triumphed. They had ridden high until Rusev had begun blaming his shortcomings on her, until he had screamed at her with such venom, until he had treated her as though she did not matter.

Lana always mattered.

The Divas Locker Room was empty. Lana had been using it ever since Rusev had unceremoniously thrown her out of the locker room that they had always before shared together. She did not shower but she did change her clothes. Her suits were tailored perfectly, Lana adored them. Rusev had bought her many.

Lana looked into the full-length mirror. She liked what she saw, she approved of it. She had worked hard to embody an image that the Russian Federation would be proud of. She was proud of it too. She embodied other images too though, they were much commented on on Instagram and Twitter, they were images to be proud of as well. Rusev had known that once. Now all he cared for was...well, that did not matter anymore.

Lana removed her suit jacket and swapped her matching skirt for one that fell in soft layers. She did not remove her expensive stiletto shoes, why would she, they were perfect. Her hair was always carefully coiled and pinned up when she was at work. It always looked beautiful. Lana undid the arrangement and adjusted her hair so that it fell to its full length, just past her shoulders. Lana's make-up remained perfectly applied. It was still entirely her; it was still appropriate, she still liked and was proud of what she saw, as always. That was what mattered.

Dolph knocked at the appointed time and smiled widely when Lana opened the door to join him.

"You know, you can use me as much as you want."

Lana's mouth twitched as she pulled her wheeled case out behind her. Dolph looked very nice; there was French braiding in his hair which was also all pulled back into a ponytail. Lana was impressed with the neat arrangement. He was dressed in jeans with a black hooded top which was loose enough at the neck to reveal an attractive dip of tanned skin. Of course he knew this.

"I can take that if you want."

Dolph nodded towards her suitcase but did not take hold of it, he did not even move towards it. Lana appreciated that he did not immediately assume that she needed help. So she raised an eyebrow, a query, a challenge perhaps to see how he would behave if encouraged, and allowed him to handle the suitcase out to the parking lot where he locked it securely in the trunk of his car.

"So, dinner."

Dolph opened the passenger door for her and put on the radio at a low volume once he had entered the car himself and driven them away from the arena. There was a companionable silence between them and Dolph wore a small but significant smile, a smirk perhaps. He seemed content and the way his eyes now and then tracked over Lana made her smile too.

She wondered where he was taking her for dinner. Somewhere loud perhaps, a sports bar with lots of raucous behavior. Perhaps he would test her with this, to see how she reacted to such an American setting. Maybe he would take her to a place where the waitresses wore clinging brief clothing. Dolph had told her of such bars and they sounded intriguing, he had said that their chicken wings were the best, the atmosphere was fun and relaxing and that the waitresses were hard-workers. Or maybe he would choose somewhere highly expensive and renowned. Rusev had always refused to eat anywhere but the most acclaimed Russian restaurants.

Dolph was singing along to the radio, he was still so very unselfconscious. Lana found herself watching him, he was uninhibited. He enjoyed his life, his career, despite how hard he was beaten down, despite the losses he had suffered. She would always have said before that that was foolish. It still was but, Lana thought, eying the stitched scar that was so obvious on Dolph's forehead and thinking of how the newly-cheering crowds so affected her, perhaps that was not all it was.

Dolph smiled at her like he knew what she was thinking and completely agreed.

The restaurant was almost casual but it was quiet also. Lana found herself seated almost next to Dolph as they had been shown to a corner table, perhaps at Dolph's request. It felt intimate, Lana did not complain. The menu was acceptable; Lana ordered grilled chicken with creamy potatoes and lightly-dressed vegetables. Dolph ordered a rack of ribs.

"Hungry work," he explained once the waitress had taken their orders.

He propped up his chin on a splayed palm and really focused on Lana now. Lana did not blush beneath her make-up, for she was just as interested in him. Dolph was right; she was using him to make a point to Rusev – Lana made her own choices and deserved to be treated with the utmost respect. It was working, Rusev was furious and jealous, and Dolph had been amused and entirely happy to receive Lana's attention.

He was not stupid though; he had known immediately what Lana had been doing. It had perhaps surprised her that he had both realized and did not mind at all.

"So how're you doing?" Dolph asked, his expression unexpectedly serious, though he smiled a little at the expression Lana wore in response. "You and Rusev were together a while, right? It's got to be hard, seeing him at work and I'm pretty sure that whatever he shouts at you at Russian is as bad as what he's been saying in English so."

That was true. Lana toyed with her water glass; she was looking forward to the white wine she had ordered with her meal. She tried not to think often of the many happy times she had spent with Rusev, the long hours they had spent together traveling, the numerous gifts he had bought her, their many conversations and the times when there had been no talk between them, only perfect action.

Dolph touched her elbow. Was Lana shaking? She did not think so but she was glad of the contact. Dolph often looked at her with great covetous interest but he had not yet pushed for more than she had sought from him. Lana liked that too.

"It is difficult," she conceded aloud at last. "We were together always and now we are not."

Dolph nodded as their drinks arrived. Lana took an immediate sip of her wine; it was crisp and not cheap. She savored it. Dolph's hand remained at her elbow as he drank his beer. His thumb was stroking her arm, she could feel the warmth of it through her blouse.

He had nice hands. He took care of them, Lana noticed, she could see evidence of a high-quality manicure.

"I'm sorry he snapped," Dolph said.

Lana inclined her head. Dolph continued to surprise her; he had not claimed that Rusev had always been a bad choice, that he had always been reprehensible. He had not been. Lana could not have wished for a better partner, in both life and work. But his anger, his frustration, at the insurmountable obstacle that John Cena had proven to be had overridden all of his good sense and character. He had changed dramatically and it had hurt.

Their meals arrived, they smelled appetizing. Dolph finally withdrew his hand and Lana found herself touched by disappointment. It seemed it was to be an evening of continual surprises. She found that she liked the feeling, because it was Dolph and because the surprises were impressing and intriguing her and caused the light and electric warmth so newly present inside of her to increase. With Rusev it had not been warmth or electricity, it had been a great understanding between two of like mind, with strength and unity of conviction and ardor also. It had been everything Lana had wanted.

Lana ate small bites of her chicken and vegetables between sips of wine and decided that the potatoes were indulgent but that the taste was more than enough to make up for this. Dolph ate ribs with abandon, picking them up with his fingers, sucking meat from the bones and not caring how much sauce ended up covering his hands. It was childlike but he took evident delight in the taste, in the whole experience.

He held a covered rib out to her, his eyebrow raised, his mouth smiling. It was an expression of his that Lana had become lately accustomed to.

It was also a dare, not born of cruelty. No, he was teasing Lana, testing her, perhaps to discover more of her away from Rusev's side and away from Rusev's angry glare also. A valid concern. Lana did not eat out of Dolph's hand. She plucked the rib from his fingers and delicately ate a mouthful of meat off of the bone, licking her lips to clean them of the inevitable sauce. Dolph's gaze was riveted to her face, as unashamed as he always was. Lana's smirk stretched as she ate more.

"It is good," she declared, dropping the bone onto her plate with finality.

"It is."

Dolph's tone was obviously amused and teasing but his eyes were dark and molten. Lana's smile deepened and she finished her meal without another word. Dolph did the same, watching as her elegant fingers considered the stem of her wine glass.

He offered to pay for the meal, "You can get the next, if you like."

The next. It was an offer of equals, and another dare. Yet Lana found at that moment that she was reminded of the difference found in mealtimes past with Rusev, how he would charge the cost to his account, how he would wash his hands with a warm towel afterward, how he liked tyurya best and how Lana would always take several spoonfuls for herself. She pushed back those memories and endeavored to concentrate on the warmth of her evening with Dolph instead, on the new and so different memories that she was now making, that she wanted to make more of, with a desire she was still growing used to and enjoying.

She raised a hand to touch Dolph's face; it was a face that had seen many battles. It felt familiar to her now and her body was poised with anticipation because it had been very pleasant for her to discover that she enjoyed kissing Dolph Ziggler. Yes, she should focus on that instead. He did not lean forward too much, he waited for her. His knees touched hers under the table. Lana leaned in and kissed him. It was a long slow involved kiss; Dolph wrapped an arm around her and buried his other hand in her hair. He tasted of rib sauce and beer. It was not unpleasant, it was another new memory.

When they parted, they were both smiling, confident and pleased. Dolph sat back to retrieve his wallet. He tipped well. His eyes rarely left Lana.

"So, back to the hotel now? A little evening walk? Drinks and dessert at Hooters? Language lessons? Some dancing?"

Lana did not sit back. She felt increasingly light as her smile matched his and became an equal dare, "Surprise me."

-the end