Author's note: Thanks for giving this first chapter such a warm welcome. A special thanks to kristal farrelly (How are you, dear? Glad to have you on board again), Mandamirra10 and jouetdedestin. I've had the idea of Steve doing Zumba plaguing my thoughts for a couple of months now. The imagine was just too hilarious and it's all his own thought really. That's what you get for copying Fandango's dance moves. Anyways, you're not here to read about my rambling thoughts, on with the story. Thank you to my super-hero beta UntilNeverDawns. Glad to have your input and your support.

I'd really appreciate it if you could click that review button once you've read this chapter and drop me a couple of lines. Feedback is always helpful!

He eyed her over once. A smirk formed on his face. "Why not? Ever tried it?" She shook her head. "Ye might wanna start small then."

They left the room and he made his way over to the weights. Stuart and Drew were hanging around somewhere at the back of the room and he could feel their eyes on them when they approached the bench opposite the glass room where Steve and his friends had trained earlier. Fortunately it was empty. He prepared the barbell for her. 40lbs would do nicely for her, he reckoned.

He stood behind her as she eased herself on the bench and promptly hit the back of her head on the barbell. "Oh man! Ouch!" She dissolved in laugher on the bench, rubbing the back of her head and he couldn't help laughing as well. There was something really funny about this situation. How someone could move so gracefully and yet again be such a klutz was just a tiny bit hilarious. He had wanted to keep it harmless, but again his eyes wandered to her chest, how it was moving up and down when she laughed. He averted his eyes quickly. She really was attractive, despite that odd pink hair color.

Darn it! She had noticed the way he was staring at her. "What?" she asked. "Come on, out with it."

He couldn't have well said something about her breasts, so he chose to say something more socially acceptable. "I've been wonderin' 'bout yer hair all night. Why the odd color?"

She looked back with out blinking. "Odd. That's exactly the same question I wanted to ask you…"

"Ha! Funny? So we have a little comedian here... Brilliant. Let's see ye bench press those 40 lbs."

She nodded and grabbed the bar. "Not like that," he admonished her and made some corrections to her posture. "Pinch those shoulder blades together. Yup, there ye go. Ready?" She nodded. He lowered the weight on her outstretched arms. She did 10 reps, which wasn't too bad considering.

"Congrats," he told afterwards. "Not bad for a first-timer."

"Yay me!" She jumped off the bench with her hands in the air, ever the little bundle of energy. He clapped her on the shoulder in approval.

"You know, I kinda wanted to tell you too how I thought you did really well tonight," she said stopping her victory dance and letting her hands sink down. "It must have taken quite some balls to go in there and do the whole class with us," she smirked up at him. "So good job, you! You've got some cojones, mister."

"Thank ye," he grinned.

To his surprise she was already hefting her duffel bag over her shoulder again.

"Yer leavin'," he observed with a slightly dumbfounded expression on his face. The thought of asking her for her number had just occurred to him now and he hadn't nearly worked up enough courage to just come straight out and ask for it yet.

"Yup, gotta hit the showers. I mean look at me," she looked down at herself with a disgusted expression and made an 'ewww' sound. Her clothes were clinging to her slender frame. Her skin was glistening. He could find absolutely nothing wrong with that particular look. He licked his lips.

"I thought that maybe…"

"Yeah?" she grinned brightly.

"Never mind," he chickened out and her face fell somewhat. Feck! Feck! Feck!

"Okay, see you around, Steve," she greeted him, still smiling, but that smile somewhat smaller now.

"See ye. An' thanks. It's been craic."

She waved at him one last time before she disappeared from sight.

The following days Steve would come to think back to what had happened at the gym again and again. He would also beat himself up over the missed opportunity. He wasn't too sure they would meet again. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't get the chance to correct what he clearly viewed as a mistake now.

He was back home, about 10 days later and it was late in the afternoon. He had slept in today and hadn't done his workout yet, so he thought it would be a good idea to go for a little run. He often did in the afternoon and he frequently met other people from around here. He was about 15 minutes into his run, jogging down a street he must have jogged down at least a hundred times, when he noticed her. She was running on the opposite side of the street, coming towards him. He knew the clothes (black leggings, simple blue tank top, baseball cap), knew the running style, every person had their own characteristic way of running, he had noticed over the years, but surprisingly now he also recognized the face and could assign a name to it. Ally. He stopped. She didn't notice him, lost in her own little world, with music blaring away on her headphones.

Now he finally knew why Ally had looked so familiar. They must have jogged past each other a gazillion times. At least ever since he lived in that particular suburb. The fact that he hadn't recognized her thanks to her hair color could also be explained rather quickly. Her hair was hidden away under a baseball cap.

He came out of his daze, she was already a few feet away, so he whipped around to follow her. He quickly caught up with her thanks to his long legs and decided to just jog up next to her. Her eyes only landed on him after a couple of seconds. Perhaps she had thought at first that he just wanted to jog past, when he hadn't she had probably decided to investigate. The expression on her face was priceless. He supposed she recognized him instantly. He wasn't wearing drastically differently clothes from the last time they met. "Steeeeeeeve! Hi!" her voice was a little shrill and loud, because she still had her headphones on and was talking over the music. She pulled them down and they both stopped running. Her smile was a million-watt just like last time they met and could have probably lit up an entire suburb. He liked that about her. She was bouncy and bubbly and that was sort of fun.

"Hi!" he smiled at her as well.

"So you live here as well?" she started a little clumsily.

"Yeah," he nodded and his smile spread into a grin. "Ye know this has been drivin' me crazy. I've kept askin' meself where I knew yer face from." He didn't realize that his words insinuated that he had been thinking about her. Well, she had been thinking about him too. At more than one occasion she had peered outside the window front of her classroom hoping to spot him on the other side.

"Well, now you don't have to wonder anymore. Which way are you going?"

"That way," he lied pointing in the direction she was running.

"Really? Great. I was just finishing my run. You wanna keep me company?"

He nodded and they started running together. Maybe this time he would work up the courage to ask her for her number. He was wondering how to do that as they came closer to his house. He nudged his head in the direction of it. "That's me place, by the way," he said casually.

"Really?" she stopped running. "Some nice place you got there," she said.

"Yeah, ye wanna come on in fer a glass of water?" he suggested. The question had come sort of out of the blue and surprised him as well. He could tell she hadn't expected it either. She looked at him for a second, blinking.

"You're not some kind of serial killer who lures women into his house under the pretense of offering them water, right?"

"No," he laughed.

"Good. Just checking. I won't say no to a glass of water," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Brilliant," he replied and they walked over to the entrance of his house. The lawn was slightly burned. He would have to hire a gardener at some point of this summer who took care of watering it in his absence.

He bent down to untie the key to the front door from his shoelaces. Ally was standing directly behind him and couldn't keep her eyes from inevitably landing on his bum as he bent over. It was really nice to look at, just like the rest of him. He was tall, muscular, obviously had a solid sense of humor and a very nice smile, in short he was rather attractive. She bit her lip when he slid the key in the lock. His back was to her, so he didn't see that.

The air inside the house was cool. It apparently had air conditioning. They walked towards the kitchen straight away. The place was really neat: dark wooden floorboards, white walls, the kitchen was about as big as Ally's living room.

"Wow! Nice," she told him appreciatively and he lowered his gaze and waved her off with his hand. Good-looking, funny and humble. Okay, now he just needed to ask her for her number and everything would be peachy. Why didn't he? He didn't seem the shy sort. Also he seemed to like her or else he wouldn't have asked her to come in. Odd.

For a couple of moments conversation between them was suspended, both of them lost in thought. He stared at her for a brief while before he seemed to remember what they had come here for. "Oh! Water. Right." He turned to the fridge and she followed close behind him. Thanks to the Florida heat outside - it was still around 96 degrees in the evening - she was really thirsty and eager to have that promised water. He opened the door of the fridge and took out two small bottles of water. When he turned around, he found her standing right in front of him. Both of them froze for a second.

This up close she had her first chance at a proper look at him. There were freckles dusting his nose and there were some slight laughter lines around his eyes. His eyes. They were really a showstopper. It was not so much about their color; they were a nice baby blue, but about their expressiveness. They really knocked the breath out of her lungs. She was ripped out of those thoughts when he pressed the ice-cold bottle against her stomach accidentally and she let out a tiny surprised yelp. She had startled him as well she supposed, because the plastic bottle slipped from his grasp and fell down. They both bent down to retrieve it simultaneously and bumped heads. Her baseball cap was knocked off in the process. "Ooooow!" she whined and giggled, rubbing her head when she came up again.

"Yeah!" he grinned also rubbing his head. He had retrieved both the bottle and her cap from the floor. Now he was holding out the bottle to her. He was too cute for words standing there with that grin on his face.

She accepted it from him, their hands touching in the process. This was getting ridiculous, she decided and just took both bottles from his hands. He looked at her in surprise. His surprise lessened when she took a step towards him. They were both still sweaty and in their workout clothes but that didn't really deter her. He looked at her like he wanted to hypnotize her. She could see him breathing faster now, his ribcage falling and rising and it wasn't from the run. She had no idea whether she was overstepping any boundaries here, he was practically a stranger, but she felt insanely attracted to him. She was slightly reassured when he took a step towards her as well. His hand clasped hers. Her fingernails were covered in bright green nail polish. He chuckled softly and raised his eyebrows.

"Yer one crazy lass," he grinned down at her. She chose to take that as a compliment. It sounded like one. His voice was rather low now, it didn't need to be louder, they were standing close enough to each other.

It was clear that they were on the edge of something here and they both enjoyed flirting with that particular edge a little, teetering along it as long as they could. She smiled back sweetly. "Why? Because I like bright colors?"

"Yeah," his other hand came up and toyed with a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. That pink, cotton candy colored hair was slowly twirled around his index finger. "How does one get hair like that?"

"Why? You like it? Wanna wear yours the same way?" she shot back, trying her hand at a little harmless teasing.

"Actually, yes. A've been dyin' te look like walkin' cotton candy on a stick," he stopped toying with her hair. His fingers went to her face and he tipped up her chin slightly.

"What about your beard? It would have to come off if you went for that cotton candy look. Wouldn't match." Her cute little doll face consisting of stub nose, murky green eyes and a regular, but still noteworthy pair of lips, was all mirthful and smiling. She wasn't intimidated by him in the least, which was a good start.

"I have te keep it fer work."

"And what's that? Guarding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?"

He grinned and followed up that grin with an exasperated look. "Yeah, ye got me there, lass. I'm a leprechaun. Actually the Irish Leprechaun Ambassador stationed here in Tampa. Finally that's outta the bag… Been weighin' hard on me conscience."

She smirked and let her finger trace over his beard. "I've never kissed someone with a beard before. Let alone a leprechaun."

"Me neither," he told her and laid his arms around her waist.

She laughed softly. It had her distracted enough so she didn't notice when he moved closer inch by inch. Her eyes widened a little when his lips first touched hers, but she quickly caught on. Her arms slung around his neck and she raised herself to her tiptoes, which made him pull her against his chest.

Kissing him was just as pleasurable as the combined sensation of slipping into a hot tub and taking your first lick of ice cream (provided you didn't have sensitive teeth). It made her feel hot and cold at once. She shivered when his tongue first traced her bottom lip before it finally slipped past it. Her fingers dug a little into the hair at the nape of his neck when the kiss deepened and their tongues first touched and immediately pulled away from each other like they were both shocked by their boldness. It happened again, but this time neither of them pulled back. All was good, almost too good actually, until their teeth clashed and both of them pulled back, chuckling softly.

"Erm… I think we will have to try that again some time," she said taking a step back and reaching for one of those water bottles on the counter behind her.

"Yeah, I think so too."

"Okay," she grinned, taking her first sip of her water.

"So in order to set up a time when we can try next, can I have yer number?"

"We'll see."

"We'll see?" he repeated with a frown on his face, surprised by the sudden turn their conversation had taken. He had been counting on getting her number. It wasn't some kind of arrogant assumption, but because she had kissed him. That generally indicated a certain amount of sympathy.

"Well, d'uh. We haven't had one single consecutive conversation yet." She shrugged her shoulder and threw him a pretty cute smile that kept him from instantly dismissing what she had to say. "Don't be mad, but before I give you my number I kinda wanna know whether you've got more going for you than being this really cute Irish guy." Her remark made him laugh. Also she had just called him cute.

"All right." He motioned at her to continue talking, because there was obviously more she wanted to say. He was leaning against the counter, his legs crossed over each other and his arms also crossed in front his muscular chest.

"Are you free tonight?" she asked him out of the blue.

"Yeah, why?"

"Let's go out," she suggested.

"All right."

"Is that all you're going to say from here on out? 'All right'?"

He grinned. "Nah, I'm just trying to recover from ye not givin' me yer phone number."

"Awww," she swayed a little left and right there with her upper body. "Not used to rejection?"

"Yeah, that's it. Deep, deep down I'm a shy sort a fella, ye know," he winked at her.

"Probably. Or else you would have asked for my number back at the gym a week ago."

They had a little moment there, where they just stood inside his kitchen looking at each other, then that moment passed. "Okay, so I'm gonna go now and we meet up here again in about an hour?"

"Grand. Anythin' ye wanna do?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's up to you. Surprise me."

When she turned up at his doorstep again precisely 65 minutes later, he knew he was in trouble out of two reasons. Reason number one: She looked phenomenal. She had her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Her tight, shredded jeans hugged her athletic figure in all the right places. When she walked past him through the door, he sucked in a breath, unwittingly inhaling some of her perfume that tickled his nose in a pleasant way. He could see the backside of her loose-fitting black tee that had at first looked fairly casual, but really wasn't. It was cut up and showed off her back and a hint of her neon green bra underneath. Him seeing that bra right there was trouble in itself. It let his imagination run wild. He gulped. Yeah, trouble. Hadn't there been a reason number two? There had been, right? It occurred to him again in that very instant and he started feeling antsy because of it. He didn't have the slightest idea where to go with her.

"Hey handsome," she grinned and inched closer to give him, ending up having to stand on her tiptoes and hold on to his shoulders for balance as she gave him a brief peck on the cheek. For a moment his hands came to rest on the small of her back. Then she stepped back and gave him a not so discreet once over. "Wow! You do clean up nicely. Sort of like a hipster barista, but very cute," she remarked as she took in his jeans, the dress shirt with the rolled-up sleeves, the vest and the flat cap on his head. "And you smell nice."

"So do you," he told her with a grin.

"That's a good start," she replied simply. "So where are you going to take me?"

"Well, erm…There is this place I really like," he suggested. It was fairly run-of-the-mill restaurant at seaside, but it served decent food, nothing too fancy. He just hoped he hadn't misjudged her there and she didn't expect champagne and lobster.

"OK. Sounds good. Let's go," she said simply. He grabbed his keys and headed after her through the door, his eyes involuntarily falling on her shapely backside. He caught himself checking her out… again and forced his gaze to travel lower, along her legs down to her shoes. Black trainers with just a hint of pink? He smiled. Okay, he hadn't expected that. Usually women wore high heels on date night, right? But since she was a dancer maybe she preferred trainers. They were sort of stylish and probably also a bit hip, he grudgingly had to admit, though he wasn't a big fan of that sort of shoes. He preferred heels.

She was patiently waiting by his car and he unlocked it with a sheepish grin. They got inside. His index finger hovered over the start engine button for a second or two before he let his hand sink down on his knee again. "I s'ppose I have to tell ye somethin' before we head over te the restaurant…"

"Let me guess. You're married?"

"No."

"You're a drug baron?"

"No," he grinned.

"Hmmmmmm, that accents a fake and you're really Texan?"

"No," full-blown laughter now.

"You're out of work, broke and want to borrow money from me?"

"No! Jaysus! What kind of blokes do ye usually go out with, lass?" he was grinning and frowning at the same time, while she continued her little 20 questions game.

"A girl can never be too cautious," she told him with a shrug. "Let's see. So you're Arnold Schwarzenegger's long lost Irish son then?" she asked, now with a teasing smile on her lips.

"No, but I do sorta admire that bloke," he winked at her.

"Of course you do, sweetie," she grinned, pointedly looking down at his thick biceps. "So what is that you have to tell me?" she added impatiently, flipping the end of her ponytail over her shoulder, while she shot him an expectant look with her black-rimmed eyes.

"I'm kind a famous," he admitted almost embarrassedly.

Her eyes narrowed to two slits. "I've never met someone who was kind a famous… What exactly does kind a famous mean?"

He hesitated. What was he supposed to tell her? The whole truth was probably a good idea in case anyone recognized him tonight. Then again this was tricky business. It was always hard to determine for him whether people, especially women, genuinely liked him as a person or just because he was on TV twice a week. Well, in her favor he had to say that she had asked him out before she knew anything about that famous business.

And it looked like she was rather curious to learn more. "Come on already. What does that mean?" she pressed on.

"I'm a professional wrestler with the WWE," he told her. It was brief and efficient. Or so he thought.

"What's the WWE?"

She had to be kidding him there.

"Ye serious?" She nodded. "The biggest wrestling company in the world. Ye have heard of Hulk Hogan, have ye?"

"Yes, but really?" she started laughing. "You're pulling my leg, right?" He gave her his best sincere look, which oddly enough made her conclude he was messing with her. "No way!" she decreed.

"I'm not messin' with ye, lass. I really am a wrestler," he said, trying his best to convince her, although he was sort of upset she didn't believe him.

"Sorry. Nice try, but no freaking way."

"Yes freakin' way. Believe it or not, there are even bloody action figures that look like me," his voice got a bit louder there.

"Really?" she narrowed his eyes. "No, that's just too leftfield. Can't be. You seem far too normal and down-to-earth for that. I always thought wrestler were a little cuckoo in the head, if you get my drift," she shook her head.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, deciding to let that cuckoo comment slide. "Ye know what? How about a little detour to the supermarket? We can go an' check out the toy department there if ye don't believe me. Or ye could just get out yer mobile, Google me an' be done with it. Me ring name is Sheamus."

He seemed annoyed and a little disgruntled. It made her giggle. "I don't like Googling people. That's creepy stalker behavior… Let's do the thingy with the supermarket instead."

"Jaysus! Can't believe I'm saying that, but 'okay', let's head over to Wal-Mart's of all places."