Antonio checked his phone for the fourth time since his plane landed in Tampa, still no reply from Beth. The last time she didn't reply to him was the night Henry showed up unannounced at the shop and she was a complete mess for over a week, and if it wasn't for that little kitten, she would probably still be a mess. He debated texting Sara or Ashley, but he didn't want to come off as a controlling boyfriend so he called Beth's cell phone and the shop as he waited for his luggage, still nothing. Beth did give him a key to her place before he left last week, so he would just have to drive over there and make sure everything was OK.

Half an hour later he was greeted at the door by a meowing kitten, he crouched down and scratched his ears, "Hello Claudio. Where is my Beth?" He left his bags by the door, kicked off his shoes and made his way into the unusually dark apartment, she wasn't in the living room or in bed, "Prinzessin? Are you home?" He called as he finally made his way into the bathroom where he found Beth lying on the tiled floor using a towel as a pillow. His heart racing, he shook her gently and scooped her into his arms, "Beth, what happened? Talk to me, Prinzessin."

"Antonio?" She snuggled her head into his chest, "I'm sick."

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

"I kept throwing up, so I just stayed here," she shivered, "and I had a fever, cold floor felt good."

"You scared me half to death, Prinzessin." He carried her into her bedroom and tucked her into bed, kissing the top of her head. If she had a fever before, seems like it passed, she felt clammy but not warm.

He went back into the bathroom and returned with some Advil and a glass of water, "Drink," he said as he carefully perched himself at the edge of the bed.

"Can you feed Einstein?" she asked as her eyes closed.

"I will take care of Claudio," he said as he changed into the gym shorts he left in her room.

"His name is Einstein," she said half asleep. He smiled, as long as she was still correcting him, she was going to be just fine.

The next morning, Antonio woke up early and ran downstairs to make sure that someone had opened the shop. He wasn't totally sure what he would do if no one was there, but thankfully, Sara was already unlocking the front door.

"How's Beth this morning?" she asked, "Sounds like she got that stomach bug that's been going around."

"She's still sleeping. I'm going to hit the gym and then get some groceries."

"She's on day 2. Hopefully she'll be able to keep some food down today," Sara said, "I was sick for three days, Ashley was sick for 2 days and poor Mrs. Benson gave us all a scare, she was sick for almost a full week. Beth held out the longest, we thought for sure she wouldn't get it. Poor thing."

"I will make her some chicken soup. Can I get you anything while I am out?"

"No thanks, I'm still recovering myself, just some tea and crackers for me," she said wincing a little. "I'll take care of Heart Strings, you take care of Beth."

"If you need anything, call me," he said.

Beth rolled over and groaned, she didn't remember dragging herself back to bed, she sat up slowly, hoping she wouldn't have to make a run for the bathroom again. Then she noticed a glass of ginger ale on her night table, and guessed that Antonio had come to her rescue at some point during the night. She gratefully sipped the ginger ale before dragging herself out of bed.

Antonio was in the kitchen stirring a huge pot of something, with Einstein sitting on the counter mewing at him. "Thanks for tucking me into bed," she said as she plopped down on the couch with her soda, suddenly her head hurt too much to move any further.

"Feel any better?"

"Well, I stopped puking…"

"When was the last time you ate?"

She groaned, her stomach felt hollow but there was no way she could eat, not after her evening spent hugging the toilet bowl, "No, no food, please."

He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, "I have the perfect remedy. I made for you, my Oma Cesaro's world famous chicken soup. Even Claudio is excited to taste it."

"His name is Einstein and cats don't eat chicken soup."

"His name is Claudio and this cat seems to really enjoy chicken soup," he said returning to the kitchen. "I'll make you a bowl, you'll feel better before you know it."

"He is my cat, he adopted me, and therefore I get to name him. His name is Einstein," she said stubbornly.

"Fine, I will accept that if you eat at least as much soup as he has," he said handing her bowl of steaming hot soup.

She admitted that the soup looked delicious – chunks of chicken, carrots, celery and potato – she took a small spoonful and realized that she was actually pretty hungry. "Potatoes? It's yummy. My mom always made soup with rice when we were sick."

"Now you know Oma's secret ingredient," he said settling down next to her with a much larger bowl for himself. "Now eat slowly and let me know when you want more."

"Thanks for the soup," she said with a yawn, "you don't have to stay with me though, I'll probably just fall asleep again soon. And I don't want you to get sick."

"I won't get sick, liebe, and I am not leaving you until I have to. Now rest."

She laid down with her head in his lap and Einstein curled up at her feet, "OK, maybe we can watch a movie then," she mumbled as he ran his fingers through her hair, her eyes closing.

"Of course, Prinzessin, whatever you want," he said as he turned the TV on to ESPN.

Antonio didn't move the whole time she was sleeping, she looked so perfect with her head in his lap and her long dark brown hair framing her face. Her hair had gotten a lot longer since they first met, she started wearing it down more often, which he liked since he loved to run his fingers through her hair. He was still amazed at how soft her hair is and how smooth her skin is, he could never get enough of her. Poor girl was still too pale for his taste, he'd have to get her to eat some more soup before he had to leave again. At least he knew Sara and Ashley would look after her. Maybe he would ask Bayley to check on her too, he was pretty sure she was staying at the WWE Performance Center training while some of the other women started touring with the main roster.

"Soccer?" she said breaking into his thoughts.

"Its fuball, Prinzessin," he said softly.

"Well, here we call it soccer," she said sitting up gingerly.

"If I will agree to call the cat Einstein, then you will agree to call this sport fuball. And you will eat more soup."

"Fine. It's a deal. He's Einstein, that's fuball and you can make me more soup while I go to the bathroom."

Two bowls of soup later, they were still watching soccer, "Did you ever play?" she asked him.

"Of course I did, as kids we all played, it was just what you did in my neighborhood, you chased a ball around the streets."

She nodded, "Makes sense. But, I meant, did you play on a team? An organized game."

"For a few years yes, then I got into working out and wrestling. Why?"

She smirked, "That means, this American chick has more fuball experience than you do! I played on a team from the time I was 5 years old until I started college. I was badass too."

"Mein Prinzessin, you never cease to amaze me. Tell me more."

She shrugged, "I played defense. Our goalie never broke a sweat. I was damned good."

"Why did you stop playing?"

"I got too busy when I was in college, I needed to work and there just weren't enough hours in the day for classes, studying, socc… I mean, fuball, and working."

"Think you still got it?" he asked.

She slapped his chest, "Of course I do! The Y in Tampa has an adult program, kind of like intramurals in college. I signed up on Monday. It's coed, so that will be weird, in high school I played on an all-girls team."

"I will have many men to beat up then," he said.

"Oh please. No one will be interested in a sweaty and out-of-breath me."

"I beg to differ, mein Prinzessin. I am very interested in a sweaty and out-of-breath you," he said waggling his eyebrows. "In fact, I think about it frequently."

She snorted and handed him her empty bowl, "More soup, bitte, Herr Cesaro."

He patted her head, "Been playing around on Google Translator?"

"Ja!" she said proudly.

He laughed, "Prinzessin, your German accent is horrendous."

She stuck out her bottom lip in a dramatic pout, "how rude."

"We will work on that another time. Mangia! Essen! Manger!"

"Show off…" she muttered taking the bowl from him.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing. See? Look, I'm eating."