HELLO MY LITTLE KITTENS! This is something I thought up while I was at my mom's house. Now seeing how I think the whole "falling in love just in one dance" is bullshit I will make some changes to our little story...in other words it's like a crossover with Cinderella but it makes a hell of a lot more sense. You can guess the roles ;). Now I'm unsure how I will label this story but I'll cross that river when I come to it. Oh and PS even though Sheamus is like 35 I made him 32 in this story, just a heads up. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: A chance meeting

Stephen grumbled when he felt sunlight hit his face. He slung an arm over his eyes to block the light from his vision, but soon moved it away when he remembered that he had to get up. Slowly, Stephen sat up on his bed and stretched his arms out. He heard a small chirping sound coming from his opened window and looked over to see a small blue bird perching itself on the windowsill. He smiled and slipped out of bed, not caring that he was clad in his boxers, and walked over to the window. He knelled down and rested his arms and head on the windowsill, reaching a finger out to stroke the bird's soft feathers.

"Good mornin' to you fella, I assume that you had a good nights rest?"

The bird chirped happily, which Stephen assumed to be a yes.

"Well good for you. I slept fine I guess, you know...for sleeping on a lumpy mattress in the attic. But after all these years I suppose that I'm used to it."

Yes, Stephen's room was in the attic. It wasn't very big so it was kinda cramped. But his guardian Paul Heyman didn't want him sleeping near his step-siblings downstairs so he had been forced to move up here after his mother died. Oh how he missed her greatly. When he was about 6 years of age she had come into contact with a deadly disease that his father had and died from when he was 2 years old which took her life as well in a mere month. In her will she had requested that her 2nd husband, Paul Heyman, take care of Stephen until Paul deemed him old enough to inherit the house and wealth his father had left behind when he died. Stephen was pretty sure that his mother had intended for him to inherit the family riches at 18, but he might have been wrong, he had never seen his mother's will and the only reason he knew what he knew was from what Paul had told him. Well, now he was 32 and he still hadn't been given what he had been promised. If only he could find out where Paul hid his mother's will, then maybe he could clear up this mess. Stephen sighed and bid the bird farewell as he stood up and closed the window. If he didn't start his chores soon he wouldn't be able to get to work that night. He quickly got dressed in his usual work cloths, a white button up shirt with a brown vest and a pair of worn jeans and boots. Before he left his room he paused and grabbed the necklace his mother and father had given to him for his birthday when he was little. It was a dark silver chain with a cross that had beautiful designs on it and it was inscribed with a word that meant 'warrior'. He stared at it in his hand before he kissed it and put it on, remembering to tuck it under his shirt so that Paul wouldn't see it and wouldn't try to take it away from him, like he took away everything else that was special to Stephen. He quickly made his way down the dusty staircase and opened the door that lead to the main house. The house was quite lavish with chandeliers, marble tile floors, and many beautiful rooms that words could not come close to describing. He made his way to the other end of the house and went into the kitchen to get breakfast ready. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:30 in the morning, which meant that he had about a few hours to prepare breakfast for his step-family, so he got to it. He went out to the hen house and gathered some eggs (while being pecked rigorously at by angry chickens) and got some milk from their cow Bessie, as well as an assortment. He mixed up some batter for pancakes and lit the oven and stove. He put some pieces of bread in the oven to toast and poured the batter onto the frying pan. He had made 10 pancakes and the bread had been toasted by the time his step-brother, Dolph, made his way into the kitchen. Stephen didn't notice him until he plopped down rather loudly in a chair, making Stephen jump slightly.

"Good mornin' to you fella, how was your night?" Stephen said as he placed some pancakes and a piece of toast on a plate and brought it over to Dolph.

Dolph groaned and reached for the syrup that Stephen had placed on the table earlier. "I didn't get a lot of sleep 'cause I'm so excited for that ball that the prince is having in a week or something like that."

Stephen stopped what he had been doing just for a second before continuing flipping pancakes. He hadn't been told that there was going to be a ball, then again his step-family never told him anything. But he tried to play along in order to get more information about this 'ball'.

"Is that so? Did you get an invitation from the palace?"

Dolph grunted and pulled an envelope out of his robe pocket and waved it around. "Uh yeah, how else would I know about it? Anyways it says that the royal family is holding a ball for the prince's birthday or something. It's supposed to be a masquerade ball so me and Punk are gonna go to town today to pick out our outfits."

Stephen just nodded to let Dolph know that he was listening. Stephen kind of wanted to go this ball, but he knew with his luck and Paul's vice grip on him he probably wouldn't be allowed to go. Plus even if he did go he would probably be a wall flower because he doesn't really like to dance in public, or sing for that matter. His parents had told him at a young age that he had a lovely voice, but he still refused to sing in front of other human beings. But sometimes when he was bored he would sing a lullaby to himself, but he was always in his room where no one could hear him anyways. He heard another trudging sound and glanced over to see Punk seating himself at the table. 3...2...1...

"I want breakfast!" Punk demanded.

Stephen sighed and resisted the urge to shake his head at his demanding step-brother. His step-brother's name wasn't Punk; he just wanted to be called that. Frankly Stephen didn't give the furry crack of a rat's behind so he just went along with it, because lord knows what Punk would do if he was addressed by his real name...probably have another fit. Stephen quickly got some food together for Punk and set it in front of the spoiled man. Out of all the people in this house Punk probably treated Stephen the worst. Paul and Dolph still didn't treat him very well but Paul only gave him orders and Dolph was too into himself to care. Out of the two sons Paul's favorite was Punk that was for sure. Paul was always getting Punk some shiny new object whenever he threw a fit. Once again, Dolph was just too into himself to care.

"Oh Stephen PS father is out of town on business as of last night so you don't have to wait for him, you can go ahead and start your chores." Dolph said with food in his mouth.

Stephen just nodded and began cleaning up the kitchen. By the time Dolph and Punk had left to do whatever they desired Stephen had finished cleaning the kitchen and went to his other chores. He swept all the marble tile floors; beat down the rugs so that there wasn't a speck of dirt, washed the linen and cloths (he had to wash his own separately) and hung them up to dry, and an assortment of other things that took him practically all day. By 5:00 he was finally on his final chore, which was scrubbing the floor of the main hall. He would have to finish this quickly if he wanted to have enough time to get to his night job. He filled a bucket with water and some special soap, grabbed a scrubber, and got to it. Frankly he thought scrubbing the floor was humiliating seeing how he had to get on his hands and knees. It reminded him of how helpless he was. Sure he could give a swift kick to each of their asses but Paul would throw him out and he would lose any chance of getting his family's house back, plus it wasn't like he had anywhere to go. Just when he was about to be finished Punk walked in with muddy shoes and walked all over the place. Stephen resisted the urge to glare at the other man as he Punk looked down at his feet in fake shock.

"Oh my, it seems that I forgot to take off my dirty shoes before coming into the house!" Punk smirked and turned towards Stephen. "And to think that because of me you'll have to start all over again." Punk slipped off his shoes and threw them at Stephen, the flying objects just barely missing the ginger's head. "I want those cleaned by tomorrow morning, got it Stephen?"

Stephen clenched his jaw for a moment resisting the urge to punch Punk's lights out. But he knew that if he did Paul would throw him out and he would have almost no chance of getting his family's estate back. Stephen took a deep breath and picked the filthy shoes up from the ground.

"I'll have them cleaned by tomorrow morning." Stephen said through clenched teeth.

Luckily for him Punk didn't notice how red his face was and just skipped away, off to do who knows what. Stephen just shook his head at the man-child and placed the shoes back down on the floor. Punk hadn't walked all over the floor so there was only a small part that needed to be re-cleaned. So Stephen sighed and splashed the remaining water in the bucket onto the floor and began scrubbing once again.

Stephen finished the remaining floor just as the sun began to set. Without wasting any time he grabbed Punk's shoes and ran up to his room and closed the door. He quickly changed out of his now dirtied cloths into something much nicer that he had 'found' in one of his father's old trunks. It was a light purple dress shirt and a black vest with a pair of dark dress pants. He couldn't change his worn shoes seeing how they were the only pair he had but it wasn't like people were going to be staring at his feet. He waited until he heard the click of the lock on his door before taking the homemade rope out from under his mattress. The only reason Paul was living on easy street was because of Stephen, seeing how his mother left him the family estate. So since her death Paul has had a tight grip on Stephen because if Stephen found his mother's will and left Paul would no longer have all these luxuries. In other words, Paul Heyman was greedy and Stephen was the key to the most valuable treasure in the world. So every night when Stephen retired someone, he wasn't sure who though, would come up and lock him in his room. But that didn't stop Stephen from sneaking out to his night job. Seeing how there was a very small chance that Stephen would get his family's estate the intended way he had been sneaking out at night and working at a bar as a bartender and a waiter. He was never assigned to be a bouncer though. While Stephen was very fit and one hell of a fighter the manager thought that he was just too good looking for the job. In other words, because of his rather unique appearance he was mainly flashed around for women and men alike to ogle at. He had even been offered a drink or other things by customers but he would always respectfully decline. But sometimes he would have to knock a few heads in order for the customer or customers to get that he was not for sale. Like that one guy from the east, while Stephen had been waiting tables the bastard had the nerve to grab Stephen's ass as he passed by. What did Stephen do? He slapped the guy clean across the face. But unfortunately the eastern man still hadn't gotten his message so it took another slap and a swift kick to ass for him to leave Stephen alone. Stephen tied the rope to his bed post and carefully climbed out his window, trying his best not to make any thumping sounds on the roof. Once he had situated himself well he let gravity do the work and he slid down the rope and landed gracefully on his feet. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching him before he sprinted towards the road that lead to the house. Town was pretty far away but carriages would always be passing along on the road so he would hop on one of those. He hopped on that back of a passing hay truck and was able to get to town just before his shift started.

Elsewhere...

John hoped to God that no one had seen him jump from his window into a nearby tree. You would think that being the prince that you had every privilege that the kingdom had to offer, but he still had what you would call over protective parents. If John wanted to go anywhere 'unofficial' he would have to sneak out and return by morning. Yes, the prince John Cena, the role model to all, was sneaking out for a drink. Seems pretty childish but if you spent most of your life in a palace with servants that would do everything and anything for you with the snap of a finger you would want to get out more often on your own too. Sure having servants might sound nice but John wanted to be a more independent person, which is why he always locked his room at night so that the servants wouldn't go into his room to dress him and brush his teeth for him like he was a no good lazy-ass. He was freaking 33 years old; he didn't need to be babied! And on top of that, his parents were throwing a masquerade ball on his birthday so that he could find someone to marry and be his queen. John thought the whole ordeal was stupid, there's no way that he could fall in love in one night! Plus it would probably be some girl that his parents saw fit to be his arm candy. If only his parents knew...He carefully climbed down the tree and landed on the soft grass, pulling his hood over his face and quickly making his way to the horse stables. He grabbed his horse, a black stallion by the name of Checkmate, and jumped onto his back riding towards the nearby town. Checkmate was the fastest horse out of all the palace stallions so they had no problem getting by the guards. Within the hour he was able to arrive in the town with its bustling streets and lights trying to find a good bar. His hood was blocking his vision so he took it off. You wouldn't be able to tell that he was a price by his attire. He was wearing a simple green T-shirt and denim shorts with a pear of athletic looking sneakers. He didn't have a problem with anyone recognizing him seeing how he really didn't get out much. He and Checkmate made their way over to a bar they hadn't tried. The valet took his horse to the stables and gave him a ticket for when he wanted to leave. John thanked the valet and made his way into the bar. He was met with waiters and waitresses bustling around trying to fill in the orders of a demanding horde of people (which John noticed to be mostly men) and the smell of alcohol and some strange combination of food. Not wanting to be in the way of things John quickly made his way over the bar and seated himself on a stool. A man dressed as a bartender with sandy blonde hair walked over to him and pulled out a pen and pad of paper. John saw his name tag read 'Abberline L'.

"How can I help you sir?" The bartender, assumingly named Abberline, asked.

John thought for a moment and shrugged. "A beer will be fine."

"What kind of beer."

John smirked a little. "Surprise me."

Abberline nodded and glanced at his watch. "Well my shift is over but I'll call over another bartender to assist you."

Abberline walked to the back of the bar and stuck his head in a doorway. "YO FARRELLY IT'S YOUR TURN!"

John heard a muffled voice and caught a word that sounded a lot like 'fella'. John redirected his attention to a stack of coasters nearby him and began fiddling with them. He heard a pair of foot steps come closer to him.

"Sorry for the long wait fella but I just got here a little while ago, how can I help you?"

John looked up ready to speak again but his voice caught in his throat when he laid eyes on the new bartender. He was a large man with milky pale skin, blue eyes, and the most beautiful red hair John had ever seen. His breath was taken away by the sight of the other man that he forgot to stop himself from gasping. John glanced at his name tag and saw that this man's name was Stephen F. He assumed that the F stood for Farrelly seeing how that's what the other guy Abberline had called him. Stephen looked at him with a confused face, which for some reason John found adorable.

"Uh...fella, are you alright?" Stephen asked, leaning in closer to John and waving his hand in front of his face to see if he was awake.

John snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat awkwardly, trying not to blush. "Sorry...it's just been a long day."

Stephen chuckled and nodded sympathetically. "Yeah I can relate fella, we get a lot of those around here. So Abberline said that you wanted a beer?"

John gulped a little and nodded a little. "Yeah...but now that I think about it..."

Stephen smiled at John, which for some reason made John feel warm inside. "Ah I see, you need some more time to decide. Well I'll leave you to it and you can call me over when you're ready. By the way my name's Stephen."

Stephen was about to walk away but John reached out and grabbed his arm. Stephen jumped and froze for a few seconds before looking back at John with a raised eyebrow. John, realizing what he had done quickly let go of Stephen's arm.

"Um...well, actually I was wondering if you could tell me what you have here yourself."

Stephen looked at him as if to say 'Is that so?' but nodded and turned back to John. "Well I suppose that'll be alright fella—"

"John."

Stephen looked at John slightly confused once again.

"My name's John...I figured that seeing how you gave me your name that I should give you mine. Does that...bother you at all?"

Stephen looked at him seemingly shocked for a moment before getting serious and leaning over towards John. "Listen fella, the only time someone even bothers to mention their name to me is when they want to take me to home with them, if you catch my drift. Now if you ask around you'll find out what happens to guys who take too much initiative on me and you can bet your life it'll involve a swift arse kicking, do you understand that fella?"

John gulped but also didn't bother to hide his shock. How many times has Stephen been 'offered' these kinds of things? Obviously it was a lot if Stephen could recognize the signs and would act this way if he even thought that he saw them. Actually come to think about it if John looked around he could see several eyes follow Stephen and a few glares directed at John when Stephen smiled at him.

"I-I wasn't trying to make a move on you or anything I was just trying to be polite! I've never been to this bar before so I guess I'm not familiar with what goes on around here. I'm sorry if I offended you...I really didn't mean to! If you want I can leave right now but I'll still pay for something so that you don't get in trouble with your boss."

Now Stephen was even more shocked than John. No one had ever apologized for their behavior towards Stephen before let alone would go to those measures to ensure his comfort. Stephen backed away from John slowly, still a little awe-struck.

"Oh...I'm sorry fe-...err, John. I guess after years of being hit on by a bunch of sleaze bags certain things tends to get to you."

John waved his hand sympathetically at Stephen. "No, no it's my fault. I guess I crossed a boundary that I shouldn't have so I should have been more careful. But for the record, and I'm not trying to make a move on you, you are pretty cute."

Stephen blushed a little and looked away from John grumbling a little, obviously embarrassed by the comment. John couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Yep, you're cute. You look it and you definitely act it."

Stephen grumbled a little more before smiling and looking back at John, the blush still there. "You're just fooling around with me aren't you?"

John smiled triumphantly. "Yes, yes I am."

Stephen and John spent the rest of the night talking to each other with Stephen occasionally having to leave to fill in some orders. Stephen even stayed after his shift just to sit and talk to John. He and John could talk about almost anything it seemed...except a few details of course. Maybe if they became better friends perhaps Stephen could tell John about what was going on back at his, or rather Paul's, estate and maybe, just maybe, John could help. But he doubted it; maybe this would be the only night that Stephen ever saw John. It was way past closing time and John and Stephen had been informed that they would have to leave soon. But John wanted to get to know more about Stephen so he told him that he'd wait for him while he got his stuff out the back room for employees. So Stephen made his way to the back and began stuffing his uniform back into his locker when he was suddenly struck on the back on the head. Stephen fell into the lockers and his vision became blurry. A hand grabbed at his color and pulled him towards another mans face.

"I've been watching you all night ginger bread...and let me say that you are one hot piece of ass."

The man who had assaulted Stephen reeked of booze and tobacco, but Stephen had his money on the booze. He was pulled up and roughly pushed up against the lockers. Stephen tried to throw a punch at the man, but he was so dizzy he could barely see his attackers face. The man grabbed Stephen's face and licked up his cheek. Stephen's eyes snapped open and with all his strength he pushed the man away and tried to run. But his attacker grabbed his ankle and he fell to the floor hitting his head again, now hearing a ringing in the air. He was going to black out soon, he knew it. Maybe if he called John...but it was no use. His attacker gagged him and pushed him to the ground pinning his hands to his sides. He thought that he felt himself beginning to cry, and for good reason. He knew what this man was going to do...he was going to rape him. But at least Stephen wouldn't be awake to feel it...so maybe he could pretend that this was all a bad dream. He heard some yelling and a cracking sound along with the weight of the man being lifted off his back. Before he blacked out he felt someone pick him up, his head being rested on the shoulder of someone.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN! CLIFF HANGER~! Aren't I a meanie ;)? So….Cena won the Royal Rumble, YAY! The Rock is the new WWE champion, EVEN BIGGER YAY! I'm glad McMahon FINALLY did something about the Shield and on RAW Heyman was SO CLOSE to being fired but then stupid Brock Lesnar had to go out and attack him! I heard that McMahon got a broken pelvis from it. So….who wants to join me in torturing and killing the Shield? Anyone…..please? Because I am seriously considering it. Reviews are love!

Love and yaoi

~ladyknights104