Title: Ultimatum (3/?)

Rating: M

Content (in this and future chapters): sex, violence, swearing, misogyny

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters mentioned herein and no infringement or offence intended.

Distribution: my livejournal, FFN – anywhere else please ask

Summary: Laura had it all, but an ultimatum made her realise it could so easily be lost. Would she be able to get past her biggest challenge?

A/N: Once again, thanks for the reviews and story alerts. They do make an old and jaded fic writer intensely happy.

CM Punk was too damn smart for his own good, Laura thought, as he continued to massage the stress out of her, strong hands kneading her flesh, leaving her a chilled out, turned on wreck of a woman. He'd not said anything when she'd returned to the locker room, nor had he said anything after she'd taken her frustrations out on a confused and unlucky Tamina in the ring, nor was he saying anything now. She knew he was waiting for her to speak. He knew she'd never say anything if he asked her outright. They were both independent to a fault and both knew how the other worked.

"Things are gonna turn to shit," she sighed, burying her head in the soft pillow on the firm hotel bed she was currently lying on. She felt Punk move slightly as he knelt over her, his hands tensed on her back for a second, before continuing their comforting motion.

"Like they aren't already with Clown Shoes in charge," he replied lightly, a little hope in his head that she might confide her worries.

"I'm gonna have to keep on my toes," she had dropped her guard with her boyfriend, but not too far. If she told him everything she knew there would be nothing stopping him from committing murder.

"I've got your back, you know that," he stopped the massage for a moment, to lean down and place uncharacteristically soft kisses at the nape of her neck.

"I know. And I know you wish I'd tell you what he said... but to be honest at this point I don't think it matters what he threatened me with, fact is I told him to fuck off so he's gonna be after me."

"What do you think he'll do?" Punk couldn't deny he was horrendously worried – Laura had opened up to him far more than he'd expected about Laurinaitis, even though she'd not yet revealed his threat. He got the feeling she hadn't meant to say as much as she did, but that she was genuinely worried about what her future held in the general manager's hands.

"I don't know."

She sounded lost, and he wanted her to know that she wasn't alone. He kissed her again, his talented tongue trailing down her back, tracing the star tattoo at the base of her spine. She groaned in pleasure, lifting her hips slightly in the hope of more contact. Punk chuckled into her skin, tattoed hands moving down her sides, teasingly brushing her breasts as she wriggled beneath him. She pulled him close, wanting to feel him inside her, wanting all of him. He shook his head and allowed her to turn over, pushing her hands above her head and holding them there with one hand, while with the other he caressed her breasts, squeezing and leaning down to bite softly at the flesh. He loved how responsive she was, how she writhed beneath him, begging without words for everything that he could give her.

He knew she wanted him. His hand trailed down her stomach, fingers for a moment poised before he gave her something she wanted, his digits pressing into her, already soaked in her wetness. She allowed a moan to slip past her lips and, encouraged, he continued, stroking her insides with two then three fingers. She was only so unguarded in these moments and he took the opportunity to watch her. Too often she was on edge, not trusting anyone except those closest to her – like many in wrestling, she'd learned that the hard way. Like this, though, she looked beautiful and free and he was eternally grateful that he not only was able to see her like this but was able to evoke such passion and freedom in her.

"Please, please," she didn't seem to know what she was begging for, but Punk did. He pushed himself into her, slowly and carefully, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. At times like this, she looked so fragile he was scared he might break her, but then she would wrap her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, and he felt that fire inside of her, the insistence, confidence and need that made him feel like, to excuse the cliché, the best in the world.

He let her control the pace, knowing that was something she needed tonight. She rolled them over so that she was on top, and he did little more than hold her hips, giving her the balance she needed to ride both herself and him to completion. Her head thrown back as a gasp of pleasure left her, she rolled her hips, milking every last moment of pleasure as he felt himself spill inside of her. Laura fell forward, her hair plastered against his sweaty chest as they both listened to their heartbeats return to a semblance of normality. Reluctantly she rolled to Punk's side, the satisfied smile returning to her face as he curled up behind her, his arm around her waist.


It was nothing, but Laura could have sworn she saw Otunga looking at her when she arrived at the arena the next evening. His smirk, which must have been learned from Laurinaitis, chilled her, as it was laced with an upper hand, a knowledge of what the general manager had in store. She turned away, returning to her conversation with CM Punk about which gigs they should check out on their return to Chicago. They were set for about three days off which was a rarity, and Laura was looking forward to having John stay as well, hopeful that she could lift his mood and provide some kind of distraction from his current woes.

Punk noticed her demeanour change: only slightly, but he could see that she was unnerved. He stared over at Otunga, frowning as the lawyer's smirk only grew wider. He didn't like being out of the loop, he prided himself on keeping his enemies in check, and this was a situation that was out of his control. He flexed his wrists, stretching out his arms as he loosened up in preparation for that night's match. It wouldn't do either of them any good to lose focus.

Laura spotted Cena and bounced over to him, pleased to see his trademark smile looking less forced than it had done yesterday.

"Hey L," he grinned as he saw her come into view, "how're you doing sweet?"

"Looking forward to our three days off, think you're gonna be able to keep up with us?"

"Depends if you're gonna be making me listen to that noise you call music," John teased, "and if you're gonna force me to eat one of your 'creations'," his air-quotes around the word made her crack up laughing.

"Oh Johnny, whatever do you think of me?" She linked her arm in his and, waving over to her boyfriend who just rolled his eyes and continued stretching, and led him to catering where she promised to find him something at least edible.

Once Laura had gone, Punk narrowed his eyes and looked around to see Otunga still lounging about in the preparation area. He knew Laura would most likely go crazy if she knew he was interfering, but there was no way he was going to have someone threaten her without them knowing his consequences. He stalked over to the legal man and before he could even realise, had him by the throat against the wall.

"I strongly suggest you don't so much as look or breathe in Laura's direction from now on, do you hear? Because once she's finished kicking your ass, I'll be there to finish the job. Understand?"

Otunga just continued smirking, "she'll get what's coming."

Punk pushed a little harder on his windpipe, "you'd better hope that nothing happens to her, otherwise you'll get what's coming, you pathetic little lackey. Now take your bow tie and cold coffee and fuck off."

The fixed smug grin on Otunga's face as he walked away only served to inflame Punk's temper further and he turned on his heels to find something more suitable to punch. He didn't want Laura to pick up on his ever growing concern, but he was convinced she was getting into something way over her head. He was no stranger to playing power games within WWE – pipebombs were his speciality, but he also knew he was in a position of leverage as one of the top merchandise sellers and current top faces. As good a wrestler and Diva as he believed Laura to be, the bottom line in WWE was that all females were basically expendable, and if she ended up in something she couldn't handle he knew they would have no qualms about firing her. And that, that was something that would piss him off royally. He liked having her around. He'd been with more than one Diva in the past, but it had always been a distraction and fun. Laura was someone who shared his interests and humour and who he really connected with, and he could see something longer term with her. It had surprised him at first, but as he'd become more comfortable with the idea he was surprised to realise he had no qualms about 'settling down' with her.

All of those plans, however, would go out of the window if she couldn't sort out whatever this thing was with Laurinaitis.