Thanks so much everyone for the great feedback! I'm glad that this storyline is working out as well as I hoped; I've been trying to keep it as realistic as possible. Well, on with Chapter 4.

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing WWE. Also, the song lyrics at the start of every chapter are from The Steeldrivers album 'Reckless.'

Mercy ain't got no judgment, Justice got a rag tied around her eyes

Chapter 4:

Jessie Evans was humming as she poured herself another cup of coffee. Last night had been horrible, but she was determined to make Wednesday better. After all, it was hump day! She was going to sort out as much of this fiasco as she could, and that was all anyone could expect. Hell, she'd even gotten out of bed and ready in time.

Sipping her coffee, she gazed idly around her kitchen. It was small, obviously, as any apartment kitchen would be. A solid wooden table with four chairs was placed in the middle. She and Noah had picked it up from a yard sale, when they'd been apartment-hunting. Besides a slight wobble in one of the left legs, it was a gorgeous oak table, and they had gotten it for an incredible bargain. Old white refrigerator, old white, electric stove, white microwave. To compensate for all the lack of color, Noah hung up a few pictures in the empty wall space, they had bought light blue curtains, and the fridge was covered in colorful magnets.

The cabinets were all a light-colored wood, and there was plenty of space to store all her dishes, pots, pans, and dry food. It wasn't like she had a plethora of any of those things. Without Noah around, she hadn't felt like entertaining in months. Both of them had had close mutual friends, but after his death, she had started to drift away from them. They still talked occasionally, but Jessie was so busy trying to make ends meet and trying to take care of herself and the apartment, that she really hadn't had the time or the means to go out.

She sighed, breaking her reverie. The clock on the microwave was telling her that it was that magical time - work was calling. She rinsed out her coffee mug, and placed it in the sink. Throwing her purse on her shoulder and picking up her keys from a pegboard beside the door, she headed outside and to her car.

When Jessie got to the church, she pulled into the parking lot, locked her car, and then skipped up the front steps. Pulling out her keys, she unlocked the front door, and walked inside. She always enjoyed the church building in the morning; it was so still and quiet, and the sunbeams filtering through the stained-glass windows painted the floor with pools of colored light.

Walking down the hallway, she opened the door to the secretary's office, and plopped down into her desk chair. The first few hours passed quickly; she was just working on the monthly newsletter and getting the bulletin together. When 10:00 rolled around, the pastor of the church came in, as usual, right on time. She heard his familiar knock on her door, and looked up with a smile on her face, which faltered for a moment when she saw his expression.

"Good morning, Tom." Jessie made an attempt to look and sound cheerful again. "It's been pretty slow so far; no new messages for you."

Reverend Thomas Greene tried to smile back and failed. His expression was a mix of sadness and awkwardness, he couldn't quite manage to look cheerful. "'Morning, Jessie." His voice was deep, one of the reasons so many people crowded the pews on Sunday morning. He had a voice that sounded just as if he was enlightened with some secret, inner truth, and could put almost any person at ease. "I'm afraid we have something serious to talk about."

Tom walked into her office, and sat down in a chair across from her. "I've been getting some very troubling phone calls this morning."

Jessie's heart sank. This couldn't be about...? "What... sort of phone calls?" Her voice was unnaturally high. She swore at herself internally. So much for trying to sound nonchalant.

"Apparently there is some sort of scandal brewing with you in the middle of it. Now, you know I don't keep up with those modern things like Twitter and Facebook, so I don't understand how these sorts of things get started. But, what I do know, is that your face was on the news this morning in conjunction with some very serious allegations." Tom placed the tips of his fingers together, and peered at Jessie over the rim of his glasses.

"Oh." Her voice was quiet. "I assume you're... talking about the whole John Cena thing." Jessie didn't look up from her hands that were folded so tightly in her lap, her knuckles were turning white.

"Yes, I'm talking about your alleged affair with this John Cena person. Now I have no idea who he is-"

Jessie cut in, mumbling, "He's a world famous wrestler."

"Regardless." Tom was in administrative mode. He sat up a little taller, now looking down at Jessie's slightly bowed head. The white lights of the office brought out the red highlights in her hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. Inwardly, his heart hurt for her. But he had a job to do. "I'm afraid that this scandal is becoming quite the public affair. Since all this information about you becoming public, it's only a matter of time before the media begins broadcasting where you work. That would certainly cast unwanted attention on this church."

Jessie stiffened. She knew exactly where this was going. The humiliation she was feeling started turning to anger and indignation. Looking up at Tom, her hazel eyes were cold. "You're firing me." It was a statement.

"I'm sorry, Jessie, but you understand that it's important this church keeps up a certain image. We're a business as much as any other, you know, and bad press can only hurt us. Having a single woman accused of adultery and promiscuity while being pregnant with another man's offspring in such a position at a church is not going to reflect well on us. I'm going to need you to be ready to leave here by the end of the week." Reverend Tom stood up. "I hope that you can understand."

Jessie's shoulders were tense, and she was having troubling keeping her voice at a normal volume. "So let me get this straight - you're firing me because I've been accused of doing something which I, in fact, didn't do? You're kicking me out of a church? Whatever happened to being open to all kinds of people?" Her voice was starting to get louder. "How can you justify this? What-"

"Enough." Tom's voice rumbled. "Enough, Jessica. I understand your anger, and that is understandable. However, you have no right to lecture me about Christian values in my own church. I've given you a couple of days to get your affairs in order. You'll receive your final paycheck on Friday. Now please try to act professionally about this." He turned around and began to walk away. "My hands are tied on the matter," was his last comment as he walked out the door.

Jessie sat in her chair, stunned and seething. Not only was her face plastered all over the TV as some marriage-ruining slut, now she was unemployed and, unless she figured out really quickly how to get another job, homeless.

"Well, fuck." She tilted her desk chair back, and then promptly jumped as the door to her office suddenly slammed shut. She knew it was from the air pressure in the building, but it was still an interesting coincidence. Looking up at the ceiling, she snapped, "I'll swear as much as I want, thank you." The door creaked back open. "Oh, shut up."

XXXXX

John Cena was sitting in another seat on another plane, staring out the window. As McMahon had said, Jessie's phone had been turned off all night, and her voicemail was full. He hadn't slept well at all. As soon as he'd gotten the chance, he had called Liz to see how she was doing - it wasn't well. She had heard about the scandal, and was practically hysterical. Although John had apologized and sworn up and down that he had not sent that tweet, Liz had been skeptical at best. At worst, she was furious with him. And of course, as soon as he told her where he and Jessie had met, that they'd been keeping in contact, and that they'd been out to dinner, there was a whole new slew of allegations against him. Finally, Liz had dissolved in tears. The conversation had ended with John's apologies, and promises to try to fix things.

Really, the only thing that was going to be good about his day was the show in Boston that night. He could definitely look forward to a great reception there. John leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He let his mind drift, trying to figure out how and why someone would have sent that tweet from his account. He found it hard to believe that anyone had hacked into it by guessing his password, and they would have had to know about Jessie as well... But no one knew about Jessie besides him. Who the hell had done it?

John still hadn't figured it out by the time the plane taxied to a stop in Logan International Airport in Boston. He switched on his phone as soon as the seatbelt light went off, and checked to see if there were any messages. As if right on cue, his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize, but he hit the button to answer it anyway.

"Hello?"

"John?" His heart jumped into his throat; the voice was Jessie's. "John, I'm sorry to call so abruptly, but-"

John cut her off. "No! No, listen, I am so sorry, I don't know what's going on but I swear I'm going to figure this out. I'm going to fix it for you."

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "I guess you already know what I was going to say. I should have expected that." There was a pause. "I had my phone number changed, so people couldn't get a hold of me anymore. I've been having some... issues with people calling."

John's thick fingers tightened around the phone as he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and strode off the plane. "You've had people calling you? If anyone's been causing you trouble-"

This time it was Jessie's turn to shush him. "I've taken care of that already. John, the reason I'm calling isn't to chastise you or to yell. What's done has been done, and the only thing to do now is figure out what to do next. I'm not... I'm not sure what someone does in a position like this. Do I need to make some sort of public statement about this? Should I be speaking to a lawyer? I mean, I don't have a lawyer, but I suppose I could get one..." Her questions drifted off into musings.

Despite his anxiety and anger, John gave a crooked smile. She seemed to be dealing with it well. Maybe, besides the harassing phone calls, of course, she was getting through this fiasco all right. It seemed like there weren't any other serious side effects of the scandal.

"I don't think that you need a lawyer just yet." He tried to make his voice calm. "Though, Vince McMahon would like to speak to you about this whole thing."

"The head of the WWE wants to talk to me? Um, are you sure I'm not in some sort of legal trouble?" She sounded nervous.

"Nah, if anyone is in legal trouble, it would be us. Vince is scared you're going to sue the company and make this whole thing even more of a publicity nightmare than it already is." He frowned, and the smile disappeared. "I told him you wouldn't do that."

"Good call." She sounded amused. "It would certainly make for interesting headlines if I attempted to. Should I be waiting for someone to contact me?"

"If it's all right, I'll give Vince your new number. He'll probably contact you really soon."

"Oh, goody. I'm really meeting all the celebrities these days, aren't I?" She sighed. "Oh, speaking of celebrities, how are you holding up for this whole thing? I'd imagine it's causing a lot more trouble for you than it is for me."

"The WWE is on full damage-control mode." Jessie could hear the agitation in his voice. "It's causing a lot of trouble for my image, and the image of the company. And Liz... isn't taking the scandal very well." She thought she could detect a hint of resentment.

"I see..." She sighed again. "I'm sorry about all of this, John. I feel like I'm partially responsible, since I was instrumental in this whole thing. Maybe I should have been less willing to keep in touch with you. I understood your situation, but I was being selfish."

"It's neither of our faults." John's voice became sharp. "It's the fault of whatever lying son-of-a-bitch mother fucker that did this. And when I find him, he's going to wish he'd never even thought of doing it."

Jessie laughed. "Well, at least I have that to look forward to. Good luck with your show tonight, John. You're in Boston, right?"

"Yeah, just got in." He was leaving the airport as he spoke that last line, he'd gotten his luggage during their conversation and was heading for a taxi. "Good to be home."

"I'd imagine so. Let me know if there's anything I should be aware of or should be doing."

"Sure thing. Take care, Jessie. You do the same." He hung up the phone as the taxi-driver threw his bag and luggage into the trunk, and he climbed in the back seat of the cab. His one relief in this thing was that Jessie was doing well, and this shit-storm wasn't seriously hurting her. He would have felt much more awful otherwise.

XXXXX

Within 5 hours of her phone call with John and one hour of being off of work, Vince McMahon had contacted Jessie. He was a man used to getting his way and extremely smooth-talking, and before she knew it, she had agreed to be on a plane to Connecticut on Saturday to meet with him and his lawyers. It was an all-expenses paid trip, of course, so she was getting off extremely well. But still, Connecticut? She needed to be looking for a job. She'd already started making some calls around the city, looking for anything - secretary, temp, campaign manager... The last one was a wish. She had graduated with a Bachelor's and Master's degree in Political Science a few years ago, but then Noah had happened. She'd put her career on hold for him, and they had just gotten really settled in to Columbus when he'd died and she'd gotten pregnant. Those weren't exactly the best conditions under which to sell herself; employers were often wary of pregnant women. "Pregnant" meant health care concerns, time off, and screaming babies. If anything, pregnancy was considered a job liability.

Jessie had been making dinner when McMahon himself had called. Now she was eating it, wondering what this meeting would entail while eating her spaghetti. The healthiest dish in the world? Nope. But the cheapest.

It was at that point that Jessie started to chastise herself. Leaning forward and placing her chin in her hand, she spoke to the potted plant she had bought on her way home from work that day.

"Looks like a whole new adventure, huh? Maybe I should try to sue or something, just to hold us over until I can get another job..." Though she wasn't sure if the "us" was referring to herself and the baby or herself and the plant. "Oh well." She sat back up straight. "Free vacation."

The next two days passed quickly, and before she knew it, Jessie was out of a job and in a car from the Connecticut airport, on her way to meet Vince McMahon. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she exited the vehicle, and headed into the building in front of her. Crossing the threshold, she was standing in a lobby and surrounded by WWE memorabilia. There were signed photos of wrestlers on the walls, as well as posters and pictures of the McMahons. She felt rather vaguely that she had stumbled into the palace of some great emperor, who was surrounding himself with his riches.

After looking around herself uncertainly for a few minutes, a very smartly dressed blond receptionist-sort entered the lobby from a door and approached her.

"You must be Miss Evans." The smiled she flashed was sickeningly cheerful. "We're so glad you could make it. Please come right this way, Mr. McMahon is waiting to see you." The woman smiled again. Jessie tried to keep herself from gagging. If the receptionists voice had been any sweeter, it would have given her instant diabetes.

"Thank you." Was the most civil reply she could manage to the perfectly groomed and manicured creature in front of her.

The lady smiled wider and turned around, leading the way out of the lobby and into a long hallway towards an elevator. The elevator took them (in very awkward silence) up to the top floor of the building, which housed Vince McMahon's office. It was there the receptionist left her, and Jessie nervously walked forward, before knocking timidly on the door.

When Vince opened the door and looked down, he was a little startled. The picture he had seen of Jessica Evans was an old one, so he wasn't exactly expecting the attractive young woman before him. She was wearing soft black boots that came up to her calves, and dark jeans. On her torso was a deep blue sweater that fit comfortably around her shoulders, and dipped down into a v-neck. A silver chain with a ring on it hung around her neck, and rested right below her collarbone. Chestnut hair with hints of red was parted to the side and pulled back into an elegant knot on her lower neck, with a few strands escaping and curling softly down around her face, and large hazel eyes were staring at him. He couldn't help but notice bulge around her stomach - soon she wouldn't be able to wear clothing like that.

Sticking out a big hand, Vince grinned. "You must be Jessica Evans. Pleased to meet you, I'm Vince McMahon. Please, come in."

Jessie couldn't help but notice that his voice sounded just as gravelly in person as it did on TV. Taking his hand, she shook it, trying to keep a firm handshake, but failing. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. McMahon, thank you."

As she was ushered inside, she looked up and saw with a rush of surprise and relief that she wasn't the only one in the room for that meeting. Sitting in front of the desk leaning forward with his big elbows resting on his knees was John Cena. Hearing her, he turned around and quickly, and got out of his chair. Striding over, he pulled her into a one-armed hug, which crushed the breath out of her.

Coughing a little, she managed to get out a "Hello, John." Before getting her breath back. Their "hello" was cut short once Vince sat down in front of them.

"Now, you both know why we're here," he began, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "What we need to figure out now, is how to move forward. The first order of business is to ask this." He turned towards Jessie. "Miss Evans, have you been having an affair with John Cena?"

"It's Jessie, please." She answered calmly. "And no, I have not."

"When did you first meet John Cena?"

"When John did the Make-A-Wish event in Columbus." She folded her hands in her lap and sat up a little straighter. Questions were something she could easily handle.

Vince McMahon made a note, and then went on. "When was the first time you heard of these allegations?"

Jessie frowned at the memory. "After I got home from work on Tuesday. I turned on my phone and had received a number of voicemails regarding the... affair."

Vince didn't smile at her pun. "Do you believe that John Cena posted the tweet that started this scandal?"

"No, I don't. He's said that he had nothing to do with it, and I don't think it's part of his character to do something like this." Her voice was steady, and she glanced over at John as she answered the question. She could see his jaw loosen a little, but his forehead was still creased. He look angry and... dangerous.

Vince continued. "Did you notify anyone about the post and the messages?"

"No, I didn't. I deleted the messages, turned off my phone, and checked Twitter to see what they were about. That was the first time I actually saw the post."

"All right..." Vince's comment was more to himself as he made another note. "Besides the phone calls, have you suffered any adverse effects from these allegations?"

Jessie hesitated. Saying that she had been fired from her job in front of John and the head of the WWE was embarrassing.

"Jessie, I need an answer." Vince was pushing her, and she knew that lying about it would only cause more trouble.

"Yes," she finally responded quietly. "I was fired from my job on Wednesday."

She couldn't look over at John, she didn't want to see the hurt on his face, and she certainly didn't want the pity. Pity wasn't going to help her find a new employer and some way to pay the rent; pity was only going to make her feel worse about herself. Instead, she focused on Vince's face, which had gotten even more serious.

"Why exactly were you fired?"

She swallowed hard. "I was a church secretary. The minister had received a number of calls from parishioners who were expressing... distaste that someone like me was working there." That was putting it delicately.

Vince surveyed the woman before him. Everything that Jessie had said was confirming was he was afraid of - they were open for a serious lawsuit if she so chose. He needed to do something to dissuade her from even considering that option, and fast. His lawyers had already warned him that opposing firms were looking to contact her, offering to take the case - they were all drooling over the opportunity of a huge payout. However, he could also tell that she was intelligent. He'd looked up as much about her as he could; she was well educated and had done very well in school. He didn't think it would be possible to cheat her out of anything or sell her short. Intelligent liabilities were the worst.

Putting down his pen, he leaned forward towards her across his desk. She couldn't help getting the impression that his arms and legs were too long for the desk; he looked a little awkward sitting there, like a spider with its legs spread apart.

"Miss Evans," he began.

"Jessie," she interrupted mildly.

"Jessie." The look he gave her wasn't kind; he didn't like being interrupted. "As you can see, we are in a tight spot. I, and consequently the WWE, don't believe that John sent that tweet either. Regardless, until that can be legally proven, we are open to a very serious lawsuit from you. If you chose, you could sue us for defamation of character and false allegations, and would most likely win."

Jessie nodded slowly, absorbing what he had just said. When she looked back up at him, he felt her measuring him up as well. As he'd thought - she wasn't stupid.

"However, I assume that you have a counter offer."

Vince nodded. "I would like to offer you a job, Miss Evans, as a political consultant."

Jessie's jaw dropped. She hadn't been expecting that.

John was also taken off-guard. "As a what?"

"As a political consultant." Vince leaned back in his seat. "As you may know, Miss Evans, my wife has now run twice for Congress in Connecticut, and has lost both times. I believe the reason for her repeated... failure... is this company." He hesitated on the word failure, as if it hurt him to even think it. "I know that being a Congresswoman is a dream of hers, and something that I would like as well. Since you have degrees in political science, I don't think this should be any trouble for you."

Jessie managed to pull her thoughts together. "Let me get this straight - you want me to move here, to Connecticut, to work on your wife's campaign?"

Vince laughed. "No! I want you to travel with myself and the rest of the superstars! I want you there every show to evaluate its content, and see what should and shouldn't be changed to help my wife's campaign. Obviously we won't start again for about a year or so, so that should give you plenty of time to familiarize yourself with the company and its members. Obviously there will be full healthcare included, and a generous salary."

Jessie's mind was reeling. A political consultant's job was almost too much to hope for. This would solve all her problems - her financial and medical issues, her housing issue, her career issue... The only problem was... baby.

"Mr. McMahon..." she paused. "I'm sure you know that I'm... pregnant." She hesitated on that word, as if it was painful to even think it. "Won't that be a liability to you and to my ability to work?"

Vince looked at her and smiled. However, it wasn't a kind smile, it was a businessman's smile. Or the look of a spider that had caught a fly in its trap. "Miss Evans..." his voice was light, but dangerous. "We'll deal with that when it comes. But I'm sure you know, you won't find a better job offer anywhere, especially as things are right now. And while a lawsuit is certainly an option, it won't look very good on a resume when you decide to pick up your career again. Especially since I am generous campaign benefactor."

John looked over at Jessie. He wasn't sure exactly what McMahon was insinuating, but Jessie seemed to know. Her eyes her narrowed slightly, and her posture had gotten much more tense. "I understand." Even her voice was clipped. "I suppose this is really the best option." She looked him straight in the face. "But if you hire me, I expect that you know I intend to do my job and to do it well, no matter how much you may dislike my advice and findings."

Vince nodded. He understood. "All right then, Miss Evans. I'll have the contract drawn up for you to sign by tomorrow." He stood up, and John and Jessie followed suit. "Is there anything else, before I have to get back to work?"

"Yes." She smiled sweetly. "It's Jessie." With that she inclined her head, showed herself to the door, and left.

John and Vince watched her go. "You couldn't have picked some dumb blond bitch, could you?" Vince growled at John.

"Not my type," was his response.

XXXXX

There we have it! Chapter 4. I hope you enjoyed it! Also, I'd like your feedback - I'm trying to make this as feasible a scenario as possible, under the circumstances of fandom, of course. So let me know if I'm starting to slide off track. And as always, positive feedback and criticism is appreciated! Thanks so much for reading.