"Why do I have to do this again, Bren?" Jade whined, her patience already wearing thin and the damn thing hadn't even started yet. "Tommy doesn't do interviews."

"That's because Tommy can book fights by name alone. You don't have that luxury." Brendan was standing in front if her, appraising her appearance. "Guess that'll have to do."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. They know what's off limits?"

"Yeah, they know the rules. Doesn't mean they'll follow them, though, so be ready for it."

"Ugh." Jade tugged on the end of her ponytail as she paced the room, trying to calm her nerves. Not for the first time, she wished Tommy had come along. But she couldn't really blame him for staying as far away from this as possible, lest he get dragged into it.

The knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. Brendan took one last look at her then gave a gentle tap to the underside of her chin, a subtle reminder to keep her chin up regardless of how much of a disaster this turned into. And it would turn into one, of that she had no doubt.

Brendan opened the hotel's conference room door, shaking the reporter's hand before escorting him inside. He was of average height, average looks; nothing really stood out about the man. "Henry Stancill, MMA Monthly," he introduced, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Paul."

It took a lot of effort to not grit her teeth when she responded back, taking his palm in hers. "Likewise." His grip was limp, clammy, and she had to fight off the urge to wipe her hand on her pants afterwards. They each took their seats, Jade bouncing her leg up and down with nerves.

"Shall we just jump right in, then?" When neither Jade nor Brendan responded, he apparently took it as consent and continued on. "How did you first get into fighting?"

"I wanted to learn."

"You've got to give me more than that, Miss Paul."

Brendan shot her a warning glare, so she continued with a sigh. "I tried self-defense courses, but it wasn't enough for me. Tommy was my running buddy, so I asked him to train me."

"Anything prompt this?"

Jade took a large drink of water. Her story had gotten known on a wider scale over the last year. She hated the attention, but if the story was going to be out there, it may as well be her version. "The threat of a restraining order going unrenewed."

"Ah, the infamous Andrew Locke. Care to elaborate?"

"Not particularly."

The reporter surveyed her, obviously starting to bristle at her reluctance to answer his questions. "I've done my research. And the events of your shooting and the lead up to it are well documented, Miss Paul. I can report them with or without your input on the matter."

"Then why do you even want it?"

"Jade," Brendan warned from beside her, reaching out an arm to touch her shoulder before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "You need this. Knock it off."

She sighed in resignation. Fuck if he wasn't right, she just hated talking about it. "He was my ex-boyfriend. The legal system failed to protect me, and I knew it would. So I took the steps necessary to protect myself, I learned to fight."

"What was it like training with Tommy Riordan?"

"How do you think? He was hard on me. Tested me, pushed me beyond my limits. But it was worth it. I'm better because of it."

"How did that transition into an engagement?"

Jade could feel the hairs on her arms stand up in anger. "That's off limits and you know it," she growled.

"My apologies," he mumbled, though he looked anything but sorry. "How did Brendan come into the picture?"

"Tommy had a tourney, he couldn't train me while he was training himself. So he called his big brother for help."

"What was it like training a woman, Mr. Conlon?" he asked as he turned to Brendan.

Sexist ass, she thought. "Didn't have anything to do with it," Brendan replied, causing Jade to beam a little with pride. There was a reason Brendan was still her trainer. "She works harder than a lot of men I've worked beside. Jade doesn't fuck around."

"Can that please be one of the page quotes in the article?" Jade asked with a laugh, a little bit of the tension in the room lifting. "Or at least put it in the next program. 'Jade Paul - she doesn't fuck around.'"

"We'll see," the reporter replied with a tight lipped smile. "Moving on. Tell me about your first real fight."

Tommy was laying on the bed watching TV when she got back to their room, one arm behind his head while the other lazily played with the drawstring of his shorts. "How'd it go, doll?"

Jade collapsed face down on the bed next to him with a groan. "They asked about you."

"Course they did."

She rolled onto her back and nestled into Tommy's side, his scent clean but overwhelming. "They want to take pictures of my scars," she whispered, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You know you've got nothing to be ashamed of them for, right?" he murmured into her hair as he snaked an arm around her shoulders. Jade nodded. "But you don't have to if you don't want to."

"I know," she sighed. "I can see why you have no patience for that shit. Did you know they're starting to call us the royal couple of MMA?"

"And how do you feel about that, princess?"

Jade leaned up on one elbow, about to let him have it until she saw the smirk on his face. So she smacked him in the arm. "You're an asshole."

Tommy hauled her on top of him, started working his hands in her shirt until she lifted it over her head and threw it across the room. "But I'm your asshole." He gently traced her scars, walking his fingers up her torso before grabbing her by the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss. His lips were soft against hers, sweet, but by the way his hands were starting to tug insistently at the button of her jeans, he had other ideas in mind.

A/N - Tommy and Jade are back! I just can't stay away from them, it seems. Please, review review review. They make my day and make me write faster.