Author: Grasshopper (A.K.A. The Undertaker's Muse)
Email: uber_bitch13@yahoo.com
Rated: G
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Pairings: Dawn Marie/Lance Storm
Summary: Fairy tales versus reality…
Author's Notes: Just a little something I wrote while eating dinner (…nummy…Peanut Butter Captain Crunch…).
Disclaimer: All characters used within are the sole property of themselves and/or World Wrestling Entertainment. This work is a piece of fiction - meaning it never happened - and belongs only to me.
She used to believe in fairy tales.
From the very beginning - back when her Mama read her bedtime stories - she had love the tales of a handsome prince saving the beautiful damsel. Fables that included brave knights, wizards, dragons, and happily ever after.
"One day, beautiful Dawn," her mother had always told her, "you will find your Prince. And when you do, you'll have your fairy tale ending."
She had always believed her Mama, with the pure trust of a child. As she grew older, she always felt like the beautiful princess waiting for love to find her. As one such princess did, she made time with a number of frogs while in search of her Prince.
Eventually, her visions of happily ever after gave way to harsh reality. To keep sane, she shoved all thoughts of Prince Charming out of her mind…though a thing thread of hope still lingered in her heart.
The day she met him, she knew he was no Prince Charming. Sure, he was handsome, but not overwhelmingly so. He had an understated sensuality to him that affected her like no man ever had before. He wasn't the type to stand out in a crowd. He was just…normal.
On the outside, he was rather serious. Some would even say he was boring.
But she knew better. He was a true gentleman. His sense of humor was somewhat skewed, but he never failed to bring a smile to her face.
When she was sad, they would watch old musicals - him singing along, horrible off-key, while she giggled and sang a few lines here and there.
When she was tired, he would read to her from whatever book he had with him. Though not the fairy tales her mother had once read, his soothing voice would lull her to sleep.
When she was sick, he would cuddle her close, making sure she was in need of nothing. He treated her like a porcelain figurine - fine and fragile.
All in all, he treated her like the Princess she'd once believed she was.
But he still wasn't her Prince Charming.
No, he was better than that. He was real. And she had no need for fairy tales, not when she was already living her happily ever after.
