As much as I wish otherwise, I do not own John Cena or any other entity associated with WWE. I can only claim property rights of OC.

The pain in John's shoulder throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat. He could barely lift his arm but he felt they had made progress. He walked into the kitchen and pulled an ice pack from the freezer. He grunted softly as he placed the bag against his shoulder. Abby was dedicated and relentless. She had a keen sense of his limits and knew how to push beyond them. Quitting was not in their vocabulary.

As he leaned against the cool metal of the stainless-steel refrigerator, he couldn't help but think about Abby. He was starting to really look forward to their sessions. He couldn't remember the last time he had met someone so … amazing. There wasn't a better word to describe her. Abby was well-read and could have a conversation about anything. They had talked about everything from movies to sports. She had a way of listening and making him feel like he was the center of the universe.

John closed his eyes and sighed. A picture of Abby's face floated in front of him. She wasn't the "type" that he usually went for. He usually went for the tall, blonde, well-stacked bombshell. Abby was on the petite side. She barely came up to his shoulder which made him guess she was about 5-foot-3. She kept her long brown hair pulled back – which was fine with him. She had great bone structure; high cheekbones and wide chocolate brown eyes. He could stare into those eyes for the rest of his life and never get tired. Which was great because that kept him from focusing on her lips. She had the most incredible pouty, soft pink lips. This afternoon he realized they were almost the same color as her roses. That was what had given him the distinct impression that he was getting in too deep.

He wasn't sure what to do about the situation. Part of him wanted to keep her at a professional distance. It would be better that way. He didn't want to hurt her when he went back to work. And eventually he would go back on the road. He could feel it in his soul. The bigger part of the problem happened to be that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the way she made him feel. He had never been nervous around women; in fact he considered himself to be confident. Not quite a man-whore but definitely someone who craved a beautiful companion. Something about Abby made him feel 16 again. That feeling was what made the temptation to let things happen naturally almost too strong to resist. He wanted to see where this thing between them would go. Maybe it would be a fling, maybe it would become something more. John only knew two things for sure – he didn't want to walk away without at least giving it a try and he'd be a fool if he did.

John startled slightly when his cellphone rang. He went in the living room and sat down on the couch as he answered. "How's the shoulder, Cena?" John couldn't help but laugh. Paul Levesque, better known as Triple H, was never one to waste time.

"Better, man. Much better." John replaced the ice pack against his shoulder and grabbed the remote.

"Steph told me you talked the Old Man into sending you to Abby. How's my girl doing?"

Now THAT was a loaded question if there ever was one. Should truth win out? Should he just tell Paul that he was falling head -over – heels for her? Should he tell Paul that Abby left him tongue-tied and unsure? Instead, he simply said "Good. She's good."

"How's therapy? Making any progress?" John flipped channels as he decided how much info he really needed to give Paul. No sense in laying all his cards on the table, just in case Paul found himself being questioned by Vince. John paused for a moment on the National Geographic channel.

"Yeah, we're making progress. It's painful as hell but at least I can move more. I can actually pick up something heavier than a coffee cup." And not drop it, but John kept that part to himself.

"Sounds good, man" Paul's voice dropped lower. John had the impression Paul was about to get serious. "No matter what, hang in there. Don't walk away. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much it hurts; stick with it. " Paul didn't have to say the words. John knew what he meant. John had the chance that Paul would kill for. He had the chance to go back into the ring and prove himself. Before John could respond, the line went dead.

"Don't worry – I'll do it. For both of us."

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Abby tossed her pen onto the desk and leaned back in her chair. The clock on the wall showed it was just after 2a.m. She should have gone to bed a couple of hours ago. If only her brain wasn't moving a million miles an hour. The day's session with John had gone remarkable well. There was an increase in his range but there was still also more tenderness in the joint than there should be. By now he should have been able to extend that arm parallel to the floor but he could only lift it a few inches. On the flip side, he had gained an increase in the amount of weight he could pick up. They would have to figure out what was going on and how to fix it.

Her weary eyes moved slowly around the room and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Creating the practice had taken up every free second since she had moved here. She had poured her heart and soul, as well as every penny, into making her dream happen. Not that she had any regrets. Far from it. Moving half-way across the county had been the scariest thing she had ever done. But it was worth every sleepless night and every coupon she had used. Three years later, she was more settled than she had ever been. Surprisingly, she still wasn't sleeping any better.

John had been on her mind a lot lately; probably more than he should. It seemed like most of her day was spent thinking about him, both professionally and personally. There was just something about his easy-going smile and laid back personality. He was easy to talk to and could make her laugh. There was something about him that was too damned appealing. Abby couldn't remember the last time she had found a man attractive. Hell, she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had a date.

For a moment Abby felt a flicker of shame. John deserved better than this. He was trusting her to be professional and to keep her focus on his recovery. Too bad that was MUCH easier said than done. If only his eyes didn't light up the minute she walked in the room. If only his smile didn't flash those adorable dimples. If only she didn't feel her breath catch every time his shirt came off. If only, if only if only Abby thought to herself.

Somehow, she was going to have to get a grip on her libido. Professional responsibility demanded no less of her. Besides, Abby had the feeling that if she did allow herself to feel something for him, she would end up hurt. That's the way it always went. It didn't take a repeat of her last relationship to remind her that getting involved on any level was not a good idea. With a small sigh of relief, Abby made up her mind. She was going to keep it level and focus on his recovery. A man like John deserved the best care possible. Abby was going to make sure he got it, even if it killed her.

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