Title: Chasing the Moon

Author: Rebellecherry

Summary: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Present day

Jon walked down the hallway at his usual gait, though he was a little concerned about being summoned to headquarters. It was rare that he was summoned to headquarters, typically for a debrief but he'd done the debrief for his last case already and sometimes they were done on sight wherever the case wrapped up.

He knocked on the door, and was issued a quiet come in, he rolled his neck before opening the door. He strode inside to find his diminutive superior there gone were the power suits that typically covered her small frame she was wearing jeans and band tee shirt that probably fit a small child.

"Ah, there you are Mr. Good," she said, "how was the flight?"

"Coulda done without it," he shrugged.

"My apologies," she said, "but this is matter of extreme urgency. You have heard about the fall of McMahon industries?"

"Yeah," he responded.

"McMahon was set up," she explained, "he pointed us right in the direction of one of the senior partners, Paul Heyman. It's fortunate that he's in jail, its limited the attempts on his life. Heyman and McMahon's estranged wife are doing all they can to keep McMahon and his lover from talking, we've gathered the evidence it's enough to convict half the company. We've just got to keep McMahon's lover safe until trial."

"I don't do baby-sitting jobs," Jon responded, "Cartels, gun smuggling rings, that's my kind of thing."

"I don't care what your thing is," she said, "you do what I tell you to do. Right now, we're going to check on our new charge. He's had quite the trying day. There was an explosion at the condo he's been sharing with McMahon, it went up in flames. We're hoping that whoever set the bomb thinks like the rest of the world that he died in the explosion."

"Where are we going to have to go?" Jon is annoyed that he's going to have to set up shop somewhere new and all he was going to have to do is keep a privileged little sugar boy alive until the case goes to trial they'd probably be somewhere lame and Jon would be bored out of his mind.

"Don't look like I kicked your puppy," she said.

"I'm just wondering why you couldn't get Rhodes for this gig," he said.

"Brandi is on desk duty for a while," she said.

"What?" Jon said, "she lives for this witness protection shit."

"She's pregnant," she told him, "besides this case is going to need a bit of special handling. He's not gonna feel like he's protected with just two chicks. We're gonna need you. You'll like where we're going."

"Mendez, I don't care where we're going," Jon said, "I just want it over with."

"If we quit talking and get to walking then it will be," Mendez said pulling open the door he'd shut behind him and walking out of it.

"I had Joe pack some things for you," Mendez stated, "he had them shipped here."

Jon nodded though he was certain that Colby, his best friend Joe's lover had packed the things. He was living in the studio apartment above their garage in Seattle, Jon liked the West Coast, but he couldn't go back to California there were too many memories to haunt him there so he enjoyed the wet dreary Seattle weather.

He followed Mendez down the long hallway to another door, the doctor was inside, talking to a man with close cropped brown hair, who was wrapped in a blanket and Jon couldn't see his face very well. The news was on, they were showing footage of the explosion.

"It has been confirmed at this time, there were no survivors in the explosion," the news lady was saying.

"So, that's it…" Jon knew that voice and he knew it well he froze, "everyone is gonna think I'm dead?"

"Well, it's either that or really be dead," Mendez said crossing her arms, "and I mean really most sincerely dead. You take your pick."

"Vince knows I'm okay right?" he asked, "I don't want him to off himself thinking I'm gone and there isn't any hope for him getting out."

"He knows," Mendez said, "I didn't lie to you when I said we were going to make this happen."

He shrugged the blanket off and finally looked past the doctor and Mendez to see Jon. He met those beautiful green eyes again, the were still the same though they had more lines around them, and he looked paler and leaner than the last time Jon had seen him, he was still Punk.

"Do you two know each other?" Dr. Sampson asked.

"No!" Mendez said, "no they don't. If you're done checking him over, the three of us have some things we need to go over."

Dr. Sampson gave Mendez a look but she just smiled her creepy little doll smile at him and he blinked and shook his head before walking away

"April!" Punk called, "Why didn't you tell me, you were bringing him in?" Punk asked.

So April was her real name and Jon was sure she was loathed that he'd find out such a thing.

She shrugged, "Wanted it to be a surprise, given your history with him and all. You're leaving behind everything. Why not give you back something you thought you'd lost long before this."

"I moved on since then," Punk said.

"Clearly," Mendez said crossing her arms over her chest.

"How do you two know each other?"

"I married Trish's little sister Celeste," Mendez said, "We met when Punk was still dancing and Celeste was tending bar. We became best friends."

"You let him live after calling you by your first name," Jon smirked.

"That's a privilege reserved for friends," she said, "though you haven't earned the right to use April, yet, you can call me AJ, since you are going to come into hiding with us, and you're not going to bitch anymore, I think I at least owe you that."

"Are you going to stop calling me Mr. Good?"

"I'm actually going to call you Dean Ambrose," she said reaching into her bag and chucking a passport and license baring that name, it was exactly like his own driver's license and passport, same picture, same details except the name and address.

"I like it," Punk said meeting Jon's eyes, "it suits you. What about me? I want to be Seymour Buttz?"

"I'm sure you would," she said, handing him an ID and passport.

"You think you're so fucking clever," Punk threw them back at her after reading his new name.

"Thought it was pretty fitting," she said.

"You've got on here that I'm from Meridian Mississippi?"

"Yeah so what you can talk just like that cowboy guy that always came to the club?" she asked.

"It's a different dialect," Punk said.

"We'll work on it later, right now we've got to get on a jet, and fly to our destination," she said.

"You're not going tell us where we're going?" Jon asked.

"Nope," she smirked.