I told myself that I shouldn't write another story until I finish the ones I already started, but my heart wanted this one published right away so… here it is! This story starts out in Dean's indie days, so he will be referred to as Jon Moxley. I'm not very familiar with indie wrestling, or with Jon's career before WWE, so this story has no particular timeline before then. Most of the story is sort of AU.


The twelve hour drive from Atlanta to Philadelphia was made with the windows rolled up and the air conditioning on full blast. Her mother claimed it was scorching outside, but Elle knew better than that. Her older sister was attending medical school in Florida to become a doctor; she knew the difference between a heat wave and a hot flash.

"Belle, turned that God awful music down!" Her mother snapped, turning around in the passenger seat of the family car, a brand new Cadillac Escalade with customized leather interior and a pair of her younger brother's baby shoes dangling from the rear view mirror.

"Elisabelle!" Her mother said again when she didn't comply to her demands fast enough. Elle turned off her barely audible iPhone, completely silencing the sound of The Cab in her ears. Her full name was Elisabelle Alexandria Anders, more commonly known to her family as Belle, except when she was being yelled at. She preferred the nickname Elle, but she had nobody in her life that called her that. Elle and the rest of her family were all born and raised in Georgia; ever since she was a little girl, she had planned her life entirely in the peach state. With her part-time job, she was trying to save money to put herself through college. She did this because she knew there was absolutely no way her parents were going to.

Elle had two older siblings and one younger sibling, all of whom her parents deemed more successful than her. Elle's oldest brother was a lawyer in California, dealing mostly with family law; divorces, child custody cases and the like. Her sister was study medicine and her younger brother, although still in his senior year of high school, he was on every sports team, a part of every after school activity or club that he could. Elle passed all her classes with flying colors when she was in high school, and she was also a part of an after school activity, but it wasn't something her parents approved of.

Music had been her passion since she was a little girl, she would sing all the time, and she even received a toy guitar from her grandfather when she was five years old. Her parents were fine with it at first; they thought it was just a phase that she would grow out of. This week she's a musician, maybe next week she'll be an astronaut. But a week past and Elle still claimed she was going to be a musician one day. When Elle began bringing home brochures for college music programs, her parents quickly announced their disapproval for her career choice and told her that if she wanted to go to college for music, she would have to pay for it by herself.

That was the day that Elle stopped receiving an allowance. Her parents still bought her the necessities of life, hair care products, clothing, make-up and so forth, but she never had money to go out with friends or to save up money for college. Her parents thought that if she didn't have any spending money, she would give up on music school. But as soon as she graduated high school, Elle got a job at a music store in downtown Atlanta. Her parents saw her father's promotion as a blessing, and not for the most obvious reason. Elle's father worked for a national company that made and sold furniture, he was recently promoted to the Pennsylvania state manager, mostly operating out of the Philadelphia store.

They convinced Elle to move with them by reminding her just how close New York was to Philadelphia, how many performing arts schools there were. Aside from Los Angeles, New York was a place to get noticed. She was twenty two years old, plenty legal. She didn't have to move with her parents and her younger brother, and, at the moment, she was regretting the decision badly.

The Anders Family reached Philadelphia at around twelve o'clock at night. Their new home was nice. Two stories high with a wrought iron fence and gate with a security system. It was in what looked like a nice neighborhood with similar houses and expensive cars. Elle immediately felt out of place, knowing already that she and her dream car, a burnt orange Jeep Wrangler, would not be accepted into this community.

Her father pulled the Escalade up to the gate and punched in the four digit code into the security system. When the gates swung open, he pulled up to the two car garage and parked inside. No words were spoken between the four of them as her father cut the engine and he, her mother and her brother all got out of the car. Elle quickly copied their actions. All of the luggage was retrieved from the back of the luxury SUV and her father led them all into the house.

"Go upstairs to your bedrooms, your names are on the doors. I want everyone to go to bed. The movers will be here early tomorrow morning to bring the rest of our furniture, so I want everyone up by seven thirty, shower and dress and be down here by eight." Her mother and father walked up the staircase without another word, her brother followed behind them. Elle glanced around at her surroundings before going up the stairs, too.

There were five doors in the hallway; the first three were unmarked, the two at the end of the hallway were her parent's room and her brother's room. Too tired to ask her parents where her bedroom was, Elle began opening doors at random, finding a bathroom, a home office and a set of stairs that led to her bedroom in the attic. There was no real furniture besides a dark wood wardrobe and a pink moon chair. She stared at the room in disbelief. Where was she supposed to sleep? The moon chair was comfortable to sit in for an hour or so, but trying to sleep seven hours until morning? She didn't have much of a choice.

With a small sigh, Elle dropped her suitcase by the door, plopped herself down into the moon chair and fell into an awkward and uncomfortable sleep. Morning came quickly but not as quickly as Elle would have liked, as she stood up from the moon chair. Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching and sore. She knew her father said to be downstairs by eight, but he didn't even follow his own advice, so why should she?

There were two doors in Elle's bedroom; one led to a decently sized closet, the other was a bathroom. It was very basic, with a toilet, a sink and a claw-foot bathtub with a moveable shower head. Like a zombie, Elle walked into the bathroom, stripping out of her skinny jeans and T-shirt as she stepped into the bathtub, not even shutting the door behind her. She turned the water on as hot as it could go, a moan of delight passing her lips as the hot water began relaxing her sore, aching muscles almost instantly. Elle spent nearly a half hour in the bathtub before her body felt relaxed and she realized that she still hadn't cleaned herself. All of her toiletries were still in her suitcase, so she ran out of the bathtub to get them, slipping on the tiled floor. She reached her suitcase, immediately finding her body wash and hair products, along with some clothes before she scurried back to the bathroom. This time, she shut the door.

It took fifteen minutes to clean herself, Elle knew that she was already late, so she didn't bother to hurry. She toweled off most of the water and knotted the towel underneath her arms, taking the time to spritz her hair with leave-in conditioner and dress herself in the jean shorts and tank top she brought into the bathroom with her. The site of her bedroom stopped her in her tracks when she opened the door. The moon chair was moved over by the window to accommodate the plush looking queen sized bed. The dark wood wardrobe was pushed against the wall near the closet and matching furniture had been brought in, including a dresser, to bedside tables, a small bookshelf and a computer desk. All of her possessions were in plastic bins labeled with "Elisabelle's room" with duct tape and a black Sharpie. Somebody had moved all of her things into her bedroom while she was in the shower and she had no idea.

Not thinking anything of it, aside from the fact that she wouldn't be sleeping in that moon chair again tonight, Elle pulled on a pair of mismatch socks out of one of the bins and put them on and went downstairs. From the big bay windows in the living room, a room filled with red walls, white leather couches and a lot of artwork, Elle saw a moving truck from her father's furniture company leaving their driveway.

"I told you to be down here at eight!" Her father barked in lieu of a morning greeting, gesturing at the clock on the cable box, which read nine fifteen. Elle just shrugged her shoulders and followed her brother into the kitchen for breakfast.


A low groan filled the small bedroom as the young man who was previously sleeping woke up. The curtains on the windows were pulled shut, blocking the sunlight and noises from the outside world, but, unfortunately, it didn't block out the heavy pounding coming from the bedroom door.

"Jon! Get your ass up or we'll be late for work!" Another groan left Jon's lips. Work. To him, work happened on Friday, Saturday and the occasional Sunday night in downtown Philadelphia. Jon was a professional wrestler in the independent promotion Combat Zone Wrestling, better known as CZW. The job that Jon's friend Sami was referring to was something that both of them did to pay the rent in their tiny, one bedroom apartment. Wrestling, especially in the independent circuit, did not pay enough to live on; The more you invested in the sport, the more money you needed to spend on ring gear, protein and supplements.

Jon laid in his bed for another five minutes before he finally got out of bed, pulling up his sagging boxers as he made his way to the bathroom to wash the dried blood and plasma off his skin from the match he had last night. By the time he showered and changed into his work clothes, a pair of ripped jeans, showing off the hard muscles of his thighs, a soft cotton white tank top and a pair of steel toed boots, Sami was already dressed and waiting in the tiny kitchen with two travel mugs filled with cheap instant coffee.

"Such a good housewife." Jon joked, effectively dodging Sami's punch and grabbed one of the travel mugs off the counter. He took a sip and sighed; It was black and strong, just the way he liked it, unlike Sami, who drank cream and sugar with a shot of coffee. After making sure that the doors and windows were locked up tight, Jon and Sami hopped into Jon's late sixties model black Chevy Impala and began the drive to work. For the past month or so, Jon and Sami had been working at a furniture store as movers. It was a surprisingly bearable job; they moved furniture every day, building their strength for wrestling on the weekends, and the decent pay allowed them to keep their cheap little apartment while still managing to get food on their table.

"So…" Sami began quietly, taking a sip of his coffee, "About that party…" Upon hearing the word 'party', Jon sighed heavily in annoyance. It wasn't as though Jon hated partying, after all, a small seedy bar downtown did have his drink order on hand, but this party was a company soiree, being held at the private estate of his new boss. Just the fact that his boss called it a soiree made Jon want to avoid it all together.

"I told you no." Jon told Sami, pulling his car into the parking lot of their workplace.

"But Mox!" Sami whined, "There's going to be free booze!" That word seemed to do it for Jon. After the weekend he had, being beaten with kendo sticks and bludgeoned with steel chairs, Jon felt like he could use a drink. Or five. Both boys exited the car and walked through the employee entrance at the back of the building. The overly flirtatious secretary handed them a list of customers they would be delivering to. The secretary was pretty, which was why Jon slept with her three weeks ago, but, apparently, she didn't understand the term casual sex.

"Look at who's name is first." Sami said, handing the list to Jon. Not surprisingly, their boss' house was the first. They both knew that their boss and his family were moving into their new house yesterday, but he thought they would at least have some furniture. Not that they could judge, of course; Jon's bed consisted of a mattress on the floor and Sami didn't even have a room, he slept on the couch in the living room.

"We can't be delivering all their furniture." Sami observed, glancing down at the list in his hands.

"No, you're just delivering and setting up his daughter's room." The secretary explained. Apparently the other movers had been moving furniture in since last week and the daughter's room was the only room left. All the furniture had already been loaded into the back of the moving truck, thanks to the lower grunts who worked weekends and graveyard shifts. Jon and Sami got into their respective moving truck and programmed the address into the GPS. It was almost an hour away; The company had a strict delivery charge for anyone who lived over half an hour away, but Jon supposed that rule was ignored if you were the state manager; he doubted they even paid for all this over-priced furniture.

The entire forty five minute drive to their bosses house, Sami went on and on about many topics; the secretary at work that he was planning on sleeping with, the matches they both had over the weekend, and the free booze that Anders was going to have at his company's party. Their boss lived in an uppity neighborhood with houses behind electric gates and expensive cars parked in garages, living a safe life. Since he was a kid, Jon hadn't known a safe life. He grew up in the East end of Cincinnati with a mother who made a living on a street corner and blew all her earnings on drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. He didn't remember his father, the only things he knew about him were whatever his mother told him in a drunken, drugged-out rage.

Sometimes she told him that his father left because he was born. Other times she said he was in prison. There was even a time when she told him that his father was dead. As a kid, Jon didn't know what to believe, but now, he just didn't give a damn. It had been seven years since Jon last saw his mother. At the tender age of seventeen, Jon began training to be a professional wrestler. A month later, he moved out of his mother's crappy apartment and rented his own apartment. It was just as crappy, but somehow, better because he was alone.

When Jon and Sami finally reached Oak Park Terrace, both snorting in amusement, knowing that neither of them fit in in a place called 'terrace', they began looking for the house numbered 316. They found it almost immediately. It was easily the biggest house in the neighborhood, made of red bricks and two stories high. Jon pulled the moving truck up to the gates and, because he didn't know the four digit code that would have allowed them access, he rang the bell. Five minutes and seven bells rung later, a man's voice sounded through the intercom, asking what them what they wanted.

"Look man, we have some furniture for ya…" Jon said, completely ignoring the fact that he was probably talking to his new boss.

"That must be her bedroom furniture." A female voice said, before the black wrought iron gates swung open and Jon drove through, parking conveniently near the front door. When Sami pulled the door up and the ramp out, it went straight across their porch, never touching the ground. The front door opened and a man who had to be Jon and Sami's new boss stood there, dressed in a pair of khaki's and a baby blue polo; Jon supposed this must be his casual clothes. He didn't look impressed as he took in the sight of the cigarette tucked behind Jon's ear or Sami's spiky black hair, but he didn't say anything other than the location of his daughter's bedroom.

Jon was expecting the daughter to be some snot nosed little brat like the kid who glared at he and Sami as they began moving furniture in, but when he brought the dresser up the stairs and opened the door, he realized he was very mistaken. The sight of a perfectly round little ass is what awaited him beyond the door. She had to be a few years younger than him, and she obviously hadn't noticed him come in because she had her back to him. Jon felt his cock harden inside his jeans and he watched her bend down in front of her suitcase before she ran back to the bathroom with her arms full of toiletries and clothes.

"Keep going, jackass!" Sami huffed from behind him. "This fucking thing is heavy!" Jon shook his head and continued inside, putting the dresser don by the closet door. It took five trips to get all the furniture into the bedroom and fifteen minutes to get it all set up. Sami just finished putting the night stand by the bed when the shower turned on and Jon started pushing him out of the room, ignoring his very vocal protests.

Their boss and his family watched as Jon pushed Sami out of the house, muttering that they were done setting up the room. Sami stayed quiet as they put the ramp back into the truck and got into the cab. As soon as Jon pulled the moving truck out of their boss' driveway, Sami looked at him with curious green eyes. "What was that all about?"

Jon shook his head. "I thought Anders' kid was some little princess, but she's not."

Sami raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" He wondered out loud as Jon began driving to the next customer's house.

Jon just smirked. "It means this company party is going to be interesting."


"When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it, Elisabelle!" Her father continued his tirade as he followed her into the kitchen like an angry pitbull. Elle rolled her eyes as she began opening cupboards at random, trying to find a bowl for her cereal.

"What exactly were you doing upstairs?" Her mother asked, looking at her suspiciously over the rim of her coffee cup.

Elle opened the last cupboard in the kitchen and pulled down a porcelain bowl before she sat down at the round kitchen table next to her brother and answered her mother while poring herself a bowl of Cheerios. "I was in the shower."

Her father groaned. "Never mind that, just make sure you don't do anything to embarrass me at the company party on Friday." He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a generous drink. "Now finish your breakfast and go unpack your room."


So... your thoughts?