The Bankers Life Fieldhouse in Indianapolis, Indiana was on fire that Sunday night. Survivor Series had finally come to town and the fans were clamoring for the fast paced, hard hitting action that was sure to come.
Kimber kept her eyes peeled as she and Joel made their way through the backstage area. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she was pretty sure her mic was shaking in her hand.
She had to interview Sheamus before his match against Del Rio and she was more than just a little anxious over it.
She didn't know what to say, how to act. Should she apologize for jumping to conclusions about him and Natalya? Should she tell him she missed him, too?
The reporter finally spotted him standing a few feet away, talking with John and AJ. At the sight of him she felt her stomach flip flop. She hadn't seen him since that past Monday and now, seeing him again, it was suddenly so jarring to her.
She found herself taking in his impressive body. Why had she never realized until that moment just how beautiful he was? Oh sure, she had always thought his body was remarkable. But now it was like she was seeing it for the first time. Those wide shoulders. That expansive chest. Those strong arms. He could rival Adonis.
And that face. That expressive, handsome face that could change from fearsome to mischievous. She really loved looking up at that face, those clear, gorgeous blue eyes.
Joel raised the camera and replied, "I'm ready when you are, Kimber."
She blinked, coming out of her thoughts. She gave him a muted nod and turned, praying her voice didn't betray her emotions, "Sheamus?"
At the sound of her sweet voice his head instantly came up and twisted towards her. His eyes raked over every inch of her and it was all he could do not to go to her and kiss her senseless.
He noted that she was wearing her deep green dress, the one she had worn on their one and only date, and his stomach clenched. She had told him she had worn it because she thought he'd like the color. Was this her way now of telling him she was still interested in him.
He had wanted to call her after the taping Tuesday but had held off. When the show had aired Friday and she hadn't called him he had been so sure he had blown his chance with her.
But here she was, dressed up for him and thinking. . .what? He couldn't read her but he really wished right now he could.
Kimber watched on as the Irishman approached, never taking his eyes off of her. He looked like he wanted to say something but was deciding to remain silent.
"Um, Sheamus," Kimber cleared her throat and began, "Please tell the audience your thoughts going in to your match against Alberto Del Rio tonight."
There was no smiling and joking to be had this night, "Alberto is in for the fight of his life tonight. He thinks he can come between me and my inevitable match wit' the Big Show. He's goin' to learn Ah don' let anythin' stand in me way when Ah go after what Ah want."
He looked pointedly at her as he said those final words. Kimber felt her mouth go dry and all thoughts fled from her mind. There was no mistaking his intentions and they both knew it.
"No." Kimber murmured thoughtfully, "No, I can see that you don't."
Sheamus reached out and took hold of one wavy strand of her hair. He rubbed it between his fingers, contemplating. He couldn't help himself. He had to touch her, if only just her hair. The need had been too great.
"Ya have a good night, lass." he replied sincerely as he reluctantly released her hair and began to walk away.
"Sheamus!" Kimber found herself calling after him.
He slowly came around and looked down at her expectantly, "Yeah?"
"Good luck." the reporter whispered, her words heartfelt.
The Irishman slowly began to grin and he gave her a wink, "Thanks, Kember."
He wanted a good luck kiss from her. Now. Right there. He didn't care if it was in front of the backstage crew, the thousands of people in the arena or the millions watching at home. He wanted to taste her sweet mouth.
Instead he made himself turn and walk to the ring. There would be plenty of time for that later, he'd make sure of it. Right now he had a match to win.
As he approached the gorilla he could hear Ricky Ricardo announcing that arse, Del Rio. He couldn't stand the long winded, annoying little man and the memory of the time he had Brogue Kicked him again flashed in his mind, causing him to smile..
Soon it was his time. His music came blaring out over the arena and Sheamus took to the stage. As the fans' cheers washed over him he beat his fist against his chest three times and threw his arms out at his sides, bellowing.
Kimber wandered over to a monitor and, arms crossed, watched as the Irishman made his way down the ramp and towards the ring. The camera cut to Alberto and Ricardo and she could see the smirk on the Mexican aristocrat's face. She could also see the tiny glimmer of fear in his eyes and that caused her to smirk slightly.
Sheamus climbed into the ring and went over to the ropes, beating his chest and bellowing to the crowd again. He did it again for the other sides before making his way over to his corner.
He stared across the ring at Del Rio, at once serious and determined. The time for joking around was over. Now was the time to fight.
The two combatants were announced and the bell rang. The match had officially began.
Sheamus and Del Rio made their way out to one another, Del Rio getting the upper hand early by kicking the Irishman's thigh. Sheamus staggered a step and Alberto pressed his advantage, grabbing the bigger man by the back of the neck and plowing him with blow after blow to his back.
He locked his arm around his neck for a headlock and Sheamus managed to bull them towards the ropes. He was able to break the hold as he shot the Mexican aristocrat across the ring and to the ropes.
As Alberto came back, though, he drove his shoulder into Sheamus' torso, knocking him to the ground.
The Celtic Warrior felt the pain shoot through his chest and back but he fought through it. He noticed that Del Rio was hitting the ropes and, as the other man came back, he rolled under him and rose to his feet. As Del Rio came back Sheamus swung at him. The other man ducked out of the way at the last second and grabbed a hold of the ropes to stop his momentum as well as the potential Brogue Kick Sheamus was meaning to plant on him.
Alberto instantly rolled out of the ring to get a breather and collect himself. Sheamus started to go for him when the ref held him back. Sheamus took a few steps back and watched with narrowed eyes as Ricardo came running over to his boss, the two men speaking feverishly in Spanish to one another.
The Mexican aristocrat eventually climbed up the steps and back in the ring. From there the two men locked up. As they struggled with each other they made their way into a corner. Sheamus was able to work his hand free and he drove his fist into Del Rio's gut. That broke the hold and the Irishman continued with massive shots to Del Rio's face and head.
Alberto began to fight back with blows of his own, but Sheamus fought through the shots and delivered a vicious knee to the other man's gut.
The Celtic Warrior brought him to his feet and started to whip him into the opposite corner when Del Rio reserved it. Sheamus hit the corner, the air shooting out of his lungs.
Alberto tried to follow up but as he got closer Sheamus lifted his big boot and planted it into the other man's face.
The Mexican aristocrat staggered backwards and Sheamus came forward, giving the other wrestler a swinging neck breaker. He quickly went for the pin. One! Two!
Del Rio kicked out and Sheamus went to his feet. He started to go for the other man when Albert suddenly kicked him in the gut.
Kimber flinched at the act, her clasped hands tucked under her chin. She hated seeing Sheamus hurt, but she found she couldn't look away.
Alberto dragged the other man to his feet and head butted him, causing Sheamus to stagger to his knees by the ropes. The Irishman blinked, trying to clear the white flashing pain away from behind his eyes. He let out a grunt as he felt Del Rio kick him in the side and he rolled out onto the apron.
He grabbed a hold of the ropes and climbed to his feet. At the last second he saw Del Rio launch himself at him and he quickly moved out of the way, causing the other man to slip between the ropes and crash to the floor below.
Sheamus measured him and suddenly dove from the apron, planting his shoulder into the other man's torso. He hit the ground, his breath hissing between his teeth, but he got to his knees. He was breathing heavily and he couldn't help the grin that found it's way to his lips.
He loved a good fight and he was getting that in spades tonight.
As quickly as the grin came it promptly left, the Irishman getting his head back in the game. He climbed to his feet and took hold of Alberto, bringing him to a standing position. He rolled him back into the ring and made his way to the top rope.
The Mexican aristocrat was instantly on him, hammering him with a punch to the face. Sheamus answered the blow and soon Alberto was climbing up the ropes and they were trading shots.
Del Rio head butted him twice and Sheamus struck him in the gut with a brutal punch. Soon they were once again trading blows, Alberto slipping onto the other side of the ropes.
He unexpectedly grabbed a hold of the Celtic Warrior's neck and jumped to the floor. The momentum caused Sheamus' neck to snap across the top rope and he found himself sitting on the apron, dazed.
Kimber leaned in closer, her eyes boring into the monitor as she tried to see if the redheaded man was all right. That was such a vicious shot!
She let out a cry of alarm as Alberto grabbed Sheamus and sent him hurtling towards the Spanish announce table. He crashed into it with violent force and landed on the ground. He clutched at his forearm, bellowing in pain, and Kimber instantly began to fear the worst.
She wanted to go to him. More than anything she wanted to go and stop the match, make sure he was all right. Something. She hated the helplessness she was feeling.
Sheamus gripped his forearm, pain shooting up and down his arm from where the bastard, Del Rio, had thrown him into the announce table. He grit his teeth, but it didn't stop the groans of agony that escaped him.
Alberto took off for him, kicking at his injured arm. Sheamus bellowed, going onto his stomach in a bid to protect his injured arm. As he came back around onto his back the Mexican aristocrat ground his boot into his face.
He dragged the larger man to his feet and rolled him into the ring. Following him in he went for the pin. One!
Sheamus dug down deep for a strength even he didn't know he possessed and he kicked out. The crowd cheered at the action.
Del Rio instantly went for that injured arm, locking it up in a nasty hold. Somehow Sheamus was able to get to his feet. Teeth grit, chest heaving, face red from anger and excursion, the Irishman drove his fist into the other man's face. Then he did it again. And yet again.
He plowed him a couple more times, causing Del Rio to sink to his knees on the canvas. Sheamus used that opportunity to hit the ropes, meaning to drive his shoulder into the other man.
But as he came back he discovered Alberto was on his feet and the Mexican aristocrat sent a sharp kick into his gut. Sheamus grunted and landed on the canvas. As he tried to rise Del Rio suddenly jumped on the back of his neck, Sheamus once again hitting the mat.
Del Rio rolled him over and once again went for the pin. One! Two!
Sheamus kicked out Alberto grabbed a hold of him, sending him into the ring post. The Irishman felt pain shoot through his shoulder as he connected with the unforgiving steel. He could hear Ricardo on the outside, taunting and laughing at him. If he could have he would have wrung his scrawny little neck.
The Mexican aristocrat slipped to the outside and went around to the post, grabbing a hold of Sheamus' arm and wrenching his shoulder into it. He followed it up with a severe kick and Sheamus landed back on the mat, grabbing at the injured area.
The ref was by his side instantly, "Sheamus, are you okay? Do you want to continue?"
"Yes." he snarled in pain.
There was no way he was quitting. Del Rio would have to kill him before that happened.
Alberto climbed onto the top rope as Sheamus got to his feet. He lept forward, driving his clasped hands into the other man's shoulder and causing him to once again hit the canvas.
He again went for the pin. One! Two!
And again the Celtic Warrior kicked out.
Kimber shook her head in wonder. She couldn't believe it. Just when she thought he didn't have any more fight left in him he came back. It was amazing. He was amazing.
She hated seeing him go through this but she also couldn't shake the absolute pride she felt for him. He was the most incredible man she had ever met. Strong and brave. A real fighter inside and out.
Sheamus tried to rise but Del Rio was on him in an instant, grabbing hold of his arm and wrenching it back. The Irishman fought through the pain that was coursing through his arm and made it to his feet. He drove his fist into Del Rio's face once, twice. Alberto broke the hold and Sheamus threw him into the corner.
He went for him when the Mexican aristocrat, from his perch on the ropes, punched him. Sheamus staggered back a step but came right back with a blow of his own. He went to do it again when Del Rio locked up his arm and swung himself over the ropes, hanging over the side. Sheamus cried out in pain as Alberto continued to apply pressure on the arm. The ref began to count and when he reached four Del Rio let go and jumped to the ground below.
He grinned out at the crowd, so sure that victory was within his reach. He began to psych himself up as he climbed back onto the apron and scaled the ropes. He dove from the top rope and was about to reach Sheamus when the other man suddenly spun around and upper cut him in the jaw. Both men crumbled to the canvas.
Kimber looked on in concern as the camera zoomed in on Sheamus. He was holding his still injured arm, breathing heavily and face red. But there was a fire burning in his blue eyes and she knew he was far from out. In fact, it would seem that he was getting a second wind.
The redheaded man fought through the pain and climbed to his feet with the aid of the ropes. Del Rio did the same and the pair changed at one another. Sheamus drove his clasped fists into Alberto's skull knocking him off his feet. As the Mexican aristocrat stood and went for him, he did it again.
The crowd's cheering rose, the fans getting swept up in the momentum of the action.
Alberto ended up in a corner and Sheamus, bellowing, took off for him. He drove his injured shoulder into the other wrestler's gut, knocking him back into the post. He could feel the sensation rush through his arm but this time he liked it. The pain felt good.
Alberto came out of the corner and tried to grab at Sheamus' arm but the Irishman yanked it away and Del Rio hit the mat. Sheamus bounced off the ropes and delivered a knee to the slowly rising man. He followed it up with a thunderous scoop and went for the pin. One! Two! Somehow Del Rio was able to kick out at the last second.
Sheamus sat up, flexing his hand and trying to get some feeling back into it. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out how to put Del Rio away for good.
He got to his feet and grabbed a hold of Alberto. He tried to set him up for the Irish Curse but Del Rio drove his elbow into Sheamus' jaw and the Irishman had no choice but to relent. He landed against the ropes and the Mexican aristocrat let out a yell, running towards him. Sheamus ducked out of the way at the last second and Del Rio went over the ropes and onto the apron.
Sheamus came back to him and spun him around, pressing his back against the ropes. He meant to hammer his chest but Del Rio slipped out of the hold and turned, upper cutting the larger man. He gave him a few head butts and tried to toss him into the nearby corner. Sheamus stopped him and grabbed a hold of the back of his head, planting his face into the top turnbuckle.
The Irishman climbed out onto the apron, still favoring his arm. He roughly grabbed a hold of Del Rio and yanked him over the top rope. He looked out over the crowd with a small smirk before climbing onto the bottom rope and driving his fist into the other man's chest.
"One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!" the crowd counted along.
Sheamus climbed over the top rope and back into the ring. He grabbed Alberto, who was now laid out on the canvas, and dragged him to his feet. He picked him up, intending to set up White Noise, but Del Rio planted his elbow into his jaw and the Irishman was forced to let go.
Del Rio jumped to his feet and shoved Sheamus into the ropes. As the other man staggered backwards the Mexican aristocrat delivered a backstabber, knocking him off his feet.
Alberto jumped in for the pin but Sheamus kicked out at two. Del Rio beat his fists against the canvas, his frustration growing.
He raked his hands through his hair, at a loss of what to do. Why wouldn't this perro stay down?!
He climbed to his feet and began to hit his forearm, signaling that it was time for the Cross Arm Breaker. He started to take hold of him when the other man suddenly grabbed him and performed White Noise.
The Celtic Warrior climbed to his knees, breathing heavily, face red. Determination was burning in his eyes. It was time to end this.
He went over to the corner and began to beat his chest, chanting, "Brogue! Brogue! Brogue!"
The crowd took up the chants, excited because they knew what was coming up.
Backstage Kimber could feel her heart pounding in time with the rhythm of Sheamus thumping his chest. Her breath caught in her throat and she watched on in anticipation.
As soon as Alberto got to his feet Sheamus took off for him. He started to kick him when, at the last second, Alberto ducked away and slammed him into the corner. He followed it up with a high kick on the back of his head and Sheamus instantly saw stars.
He fell to the canvas and Del Rio jumped on him for the pin. One! Two! Miraculously Sheamus kicked out before the ref could hit count three.
Alberto felt his temper rise and he got to his feet, sending a thunderous kick to Sheamus gut. The Mexican aristocrat grabbed a hold of his jaw and leaned over him, yelling in his face.
"You are nothing, perro!Do you hear me? You are nothing! You are a peasant! You cannot beat me! I am going to win and I am going to be the next World Heavyweight Champion! You are worthless! You are pathetic! You perro!"
The more he talked the angrier Sheamus got. The redheaded man climbed to his feet and smashed his fist into Alberto's face. He hit him again and again.
Alberto staggered but came back with a kick to the other man's back. Sheamus grunted and hunched over. The Mexican aristocrat used that opportunity to try and lock in the Cross Arm Breaker. Sheamus shoved him away at the last second and tried for a Brogue Kick. Alberto dodged away and sent a kick to Sheamus' gut. He suddenly grabbed hold of his arm and flipped around, putting him in his finishing hold.
But he didn't have the hold locked in and Sheamus was able to slip out. He tried to set him up for the Clover Leaf but Del Rio started to punch him. He added a few kicks for good measure and Sheamus was knocked away.
The Irishman went to the ropes, scrubbing a hand over his face. Regaining his momentum, he took off for Del Rio.
Somehow the other man managed to sidestep him and Sheamus went through the ropes. To make matters worse his arm got caught between the middle and top rope and the Irishman found himself trapped.
Grinning almost manically, the Mexican aristocrat jumped to onto the apron and began to issue brutal kick after brutal kick to the injured arm. The crowd booed their disapproval and backstage Kimber had to turn away.
Alberto was forced back into the ring and backed away. He smiled over at Sheamus triumphantly.
Sheamus rolled onto his side, clutching at his injured arm. He struggled to fight through the pain but it was hard. Del Rio's kicks were worse than a bleedin' mule.
He got to his feet and as a last stitch effort tried for White Noise. Alberto easily countered and locked on the Cross Arm Breaker. The hold was tight, there was no way the Irishman was going to get out of it.
The crowd were on their feet, screaming and yelling for Sheamus to fight out of it.
Red faced, the Celtic Warrior threw his head back and roared in pain.
Kimber felt tears prick her eyes and she quickly wiped at them. She didn't know if she could watch much more of this. Seeing Sheamus in so much pain broke her heart. She was so surprised to discover that is physically hurt to see him this way.
Sheamus' free arm shook, the need to end the pain so great. But he wouldn't tap. His pride wouldn't allow him to do it. Del Rio could break his arm for all he cared, he wasn't going to tap out.
Warring with the pain, the large man somehow managed to rolled over. As the crowds' cheering grew the red faced Irishman somehow got to his feet, Del Rio still latched onto his arm.
Bellowing, he slammed the man onto the mat, both of them falling to the canvas and going still.
Breathing heavily, Sheamus looked up at the ceiling and gripped his arm. He struggled to catch his breath and work through the sting.
He crawled over to the corner and shakily got to his feet. This was it. Now or never. He was ending this fight.
Using his uninjured arm he began to beat his chest. The crowd were on their feet, chanting.
The Irishman launched himself at the Mexican aristocrat. But just as he was about to strike Alberto grabbed the official, Scott Armstrong, and yanked him in front of him. Sheamus' boot connected with the ref's head and both he and a winded Del Rio hit the mat.
The crowd did a collective gasp and Sheamus looked down at the fallen man in alarm.
"Oh no." Kimber breathed, shocked.
Sheamus went to his knees before the smaller man, calling out to him, "Scott? Scott, are ya all right? Are ya okay? Ah'm sorry, lad."
The ringside doctor and two other officials came to the ring and began to look the ref over.
While they were checking him over Big Show suddenly appeared on the ramp. The fans spotted him and began to yell, trying to warn the Irishman. Unfortunately he was so concerned over Scott that he didn't take notice.
Determined, the largest athlete in the world climbed up the steps and slipped in between the ropes. He advanced on Sheamus, who had risen to his feet and taken a few steps back to let the men try and help their fallen comrade.
"Sheamus, look out!" Kimber involuntarily yelled at the monitor.
Too late as Show grabbed a hold of Sheamus and yanked him around. He leveled him with the WMD and Sheamus crumbled to the canvas.
Alberto, who had been watching all of that from the corner, instantly sprung into action. He jumped on top of Sheamus and hooked his leg for the pin.
Big Show slipped out of the ring and began to grin as one of the refs noticed what was going on. He quickly slid over to the two men and made the count. One! Two! Three!
The bell rang and Del Rio's music began to play. The Mexican aristocrat jumped to his feet and started to celebrate with Ricardo, who climbed into the ring.
The second ref climbed to his feet and began to argue with the first ref. The two men furiously talked back and forth, each trying to plead their case.
Sheamus groaned and rolled onto his stomach, trying to get his bearings. He could hear the roar of the crowd, Alberto and Ricardo celebrating and the two refs arguing.
The second referee jumped out of the ring and walked over to Justin Roberts. As the camera drew closer Kimber could hear the official tell the ring announcer that Del Rio was disqualified.
Kimber couldn't have cared less about that. The only thing she wanted to know was if Sheamus was all right or not.
Roberts nodded and raised his mic, "Ladies and gentlemen, Alberto Del Rio has been disqualified. The winner of this match. . .Sheamus!"
The arena erupted in cheers and Del Rio and Ricardo began to scream in protest. They hurried after the second ref and started to argue with the smaller man as he made his way up the ramp. He didn't back down and told them Alberto was disqualified and why.
Big Show rubbed his head and sneered, angry that his plan had blown up in his face.
"Stupid mick." he snarled and turned away, shaking his head in disgust.
Sheamus started to come to. He rolled out of the ring and crawled towards the announce table, elbow braced on it and one knee up. He rubbed his hand over his face as he tried to figure out what had happened.
Suddenly everything clicked in his mind in that instant and he slowly looked over to find Show standing by the side of the ring.
Acid like rage began to burn through his body. He got to his feet and spotted a steel chair leaning against the barricade.
"Sheamus, don't do it!" Michael Cole warned from his spot at the announce table.
But Sheamus didn't hear him. Couldn't hear him over the roar of fury in his head. Seeing red, he stormed over and seized the chair before setting his sights on the Big Show.
Incensed and unwavering, the Irishman advanced on the larger man and slammed the chair full force against Big Show's back.
"Oh God!" Big Show cried out in pain and tried to stagger away.
He only managed to go a step before Sheamus hit him again.
Like a man possessed, the Celtic Warrior began to drive shot after shot into the World Heavyweight Champion's back and sides.
Show went to his knees and screamed in agony but the other man didn't care. He beat him about the back and the shoulder again and again as the crowd cheered him on.
Big Show rolled onto his side and Sheamus slammed the chair into his hip. Show bellowed and tried to crawl away.
Sheamus stalked after him, driving the chair into his back again and again. Show ended up on his behind and he began to plead.
"Please stop! Please stop! Stop!" he begged for mercy.
But the Irishman had none and, roaring in anger, he hit him again on the shoulder.
Show tried to get to his knees but he was knocked over once again as Sheamus drilled him with the steel chair.
Breathing heavily, the Celtic Warrior stared down at the man with pure hate. His grip on the chair tightened and he slammed it into the champion again and again and again.
Kimber's eyes widened as she watched on in stunned silence. She involuntarily flinched every time Sheamus brought the chair down on Big Show. She couldn't help herself; couldn't stop herself really.
Her hands covered her mouth as she stared at the enraged man on the screen. She had never seen him so livid before. She didn't know what to think or how to feel about that.
Big Show tried to scoot away from the deadly man. Sheamus, still gripping the chair, hunted him. He could hear the crowd chanting, "One more time! One more time!"
He went for the large man's leg, heaving the unrelenting metal against it again and again, causing Show to howl in agony.
"Please!" Big Show wailed, pain etched across his red face, "Please, God, stop!"
The Celtic Warrior glared down at him, shaking with rage. He couldn't remember ever being so angry before. He could feel it burning every fiber of his being. He could feel the chair shaking in his hands. At that moment, more than anything, he wanted to wrap it around the Big Show's neck.
"Yer pathetic! Pathetic!" Sheamus yelled in disgust, "Beg, fella! Ah want to hear ya beg!"
"Please." Big Show gasped, waving his hands in front of himself, "Please, stop. Please, no more."
The crowd continued to call for the Big Show's blood.
Sheamus stared down at him, breathing hard and the chair still raised in his hands. He watched the massive man down on his knees, pleading for him to stop.
It would have been so easy to just keep hitting him with that chair until he was nothing more than a pile of broken bones on the floor. That was what the dark part in his mind was calling, screaming, for him to do.
He felt some of his anger begin to dissipate, some of his adrenaline die off. He slowly lowered the chair and regarded the fallen champion coldly.
"Yer time is comin', fella." he threatened before tossing the chair aside and storming towards the back.
He went through the curtain and instantly the backstage area grew hushed. All eyes were on him; everyone was too afraid to speak or even move.
The Celtic Warrior disregarded them. He was still too angry to deal with any of them right now.
He started to head for his locker room when his caught sight of Kimber standing a few feet away. The second his gaze landed on her he found himself drawing to a stop.
Realization hit him then. If they had seen, she had surely seen, as well.
He tried to mentally prepare himself incase she couldn't handle it and needed to walk away from him for good.
He just hoped his heart could take it.
To his profound surprise, though, she didn't look upon him with fear or disgust. Instead her beautiful face was filled with nothing but concern.
She started to walk towards him, her heels clicking across the cement the only sounds to be heard over the otherwise quiet area.
She was halfway across the hall when Triple H rounded a corner.
He spotted her and called out, "Kimber, can I talk to you for a second."
The young reporter drew to a stop, hesitant. It was clear that she wanted to see to the Irishman.
Sheamus gave her a small nod, silently telling her it was all right. He watched as she reluctantly turned away from him and began to make her way back to her boss. It was only then that the backstage area came back to life and the redheaded man took his leave for his locker room.
Kimber had to force herself to put aside her worry as she approached her boss.
"Triple H." she greeted him, reaching out to shake his hand.
"Kimber, I'm glad I caught up with you." he nodded, shaking her hand, "I wanted to catch you and let you know that you're doing a terrific job with One Week With. . .From what research has told me, it's one of our most watched YouTube shows."
"That's great." the reporter was surprised, "I'm thrilled to know that it's doing so well."
"I also wanted to tell you that we're really impressed with your backstage interviewing." Triple H went on, "Keep up the good work."
"I will, sir." Kimber assured him and started to walk away.
"Oh, and one more thing." she wheeled back around to face him, "I just wanted to let you know that you're next week's worth of interviews is going to be with Sheamus."
"Sheamus." Kimber repeated, butterflies rising up in her stomach.
She didn't know what to think about that.
"Yeah." Triple H began to smirk, "The fans love that crazy fella and I won't lie to you. There's been a lot of talk about you two."
"About me and Sheamus?" Kimber couldn't believe it.
"Yeah, it seems that the fans think there's a lot of chemistry between you two." Triple H had a knowing look in his eyes, one that Kimber didn't want to press, "So anyway, keep up the good work and I'll see you on Monday."
"Thank you." she smiled warmly up at him, "Thank you so much."
She turned and began to make her way back down the hall. As she walked she ran into Joel who was leaning against a wall, checking the lenses on his camera.
"Hey, Production just said we should get an interview with Sheamus." Joel replied as he straightened and walked over to her.
Kimber paused, not sure that now was the best time. He had to be livid, not that she blamed him. The last thing he needed was her at his door, badgering him with questions.
"Come on, Kim." Joel sighed, "Look, I know you like the guy but think like a journalist for a second. Would you want to get the scoop or not?"
He had her there. All right, she would do it. But if Sheamus said 'no' to the interview that would be that. She wouldn't press him.
"Okay, let's go." she led the way through the arena and towards Sheamus' locker room.
As they drew closer she was relieved to find that she didn't hear crashing furniture coming from inside the room. Perhaps he had gotten it all out of his system by now.
As she approached Joel instantly lift the camera to his shoulder and adjusted the viewer. He pointed a finger at her and let her know they were live.
She took a small breath and tentatively knocked on the door.
"Go away unless yer in the mood for an arse kicking." came a very familiar growl.
Kimber's fist paused, mid knock, and she looked questioningly over at her cameraman. He shrugged, as if to say 'It's your call.'
"Sheamus?" the reporter's voice was a bit hesitant, "Sheamus, I was hoping to get a few words with you, if possible."
There was a long pause that followed. She was just about ready to give up when the door opened the Irishman stepped into the doorway. His face was still a little red, a tale tell sign that his dander was still up. Kimber could also see that his jaw was a slightly darker shade of red, an indication of where Show had hit him. It made her concern for him peak.
He looked down at her wearily and nodded, "All right. What do ya want to know?"
"I. . ." she forced her racing thoughts to stop and jumped right in, acting like the profession she knew she was, "Sheamus, what are your thoughts on what just happened out there with the Big Show?"
"My thoughts?" he repeated with a cold grin, "My thoughts are that it's a good thing Ah was in such a forgivin' mood.
He turned to the camera, his rage beginning to come back, "Show, ya made a huge mistake tonight when you decided to get involved in my match wit' Del Rio. I promise ya, fella, this isn' over. Consider those chair shots just a little warnin'."
"We got it." Joel replied as he lowered the camera, "Thanks, Sheamus."
"No problem, fella." the Irishman nodded to him, his temper cooling slightly.
"You coming?" Joel asked Kimber.
The young reporter shook her head, "No. No, I'm going to stay here for a little while."
"All right." Joel turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be at Production when you need me."
When Kimber faced the Celtic Warrior again she was surprised to find him watching her in confusion.
"Why are you still here?" he found himself asking.
He honestly didn't know. In fact, he couldn't have been more surprised than he was when he heard her sweet voice on the other side of his door.
After he had battered that arse, Show, with the steel chair and had come storming to the back he had been sure that he'd find Kimber looking at him like he was the devil incarnate.
So imagine his surprise when he had slipped past the curtain and found the lass actually concerned for him. It was the last thing he expected.
"I thought you wouldn' want anythin' to do wit' me after what happened out there." he admitted, his tone low, "Ah mean, you did see it, didn' ya?'
Kimber found she could only look up at him with compassion. She knew he didn't regret that he had done to Big Show. But she could tell he regretted that she had witnessed it.
She felt something tug at her heart. An emotion she wasn't sure she was ready to name began to well up deep inside her chest.
She reached out and placed a hand against his jaw, her thumb stroking his red beard.
"I saw you." she replied, her voice filled with tenderness, "You could have really hurt him if you wanted to. But you didn't. I saw you stop and walk away."
"Angel." he breathed the word and took hold of her hand, leaning into her touch.
He wanted to kiss her at that moment. More than anything he wanted to kiss this amazing woman who had just seen him at his almost absolute worst and still wanted to stick around.
He pressed his lips against her palm, his eyes blazing into hers.
"Ah want to kiss you." he told her honestly.
Kimber began to smile gently, "I want that, too."
Still holding her hand, he placed it against his chest, his thumb stroking the top of it. She could feel his heart hammering against her palm.
"It has to be yer move, Kember." he stated, serious, "I won' do anythin' unless you want me to."
Kimber felt tears of appreciation well up in her eyes. She blinked them back and, placing her other hand on his chest, leaned up towards him.
"You'll have to meet me more than halfway." she joked, "I'm a little too short to initiate this."
Sheamus began to chuckle and he released her hand. Taking hold of her waist, he lifted her carefully up into his arms and pressed a kiss against her lips. And then all thoughts of laughter evaporated from both of their minds.
Their lips met and clung to one another. Sheamus eased hers apart, his tongue coming forth to taste her. Kimber met him tentatively, giving as well as taking all that she could.
She felt his hard body pressed against her own and she trembled slightly. But it wasn't all from fear. No, what she was feeling at that moment definitely outweighed her fright.
Sheamus ended the kiss sooner than he would have liked, but he did so for her. The last thing wanted was the scare her again.
He eased her back to her feet and couldn't help but chuckle when her legs buckled slightly and she had to hold onto his waist to steady herself.
Ah feel the same way, lass, he silently told her, Ah'm just better at hiding it, is all.
She slowly opened her eyes and stared up at him in wonder. There was no fear to be seen in those gorgeous green eyes of hers and Sheamus wanted to howl with joy.
She began to smile as she pulled back, "That was beautiful."
"Yes it was." the wrestler agreed.
He began to grin and winked at her, "So did ya come just for the interview?"
His grin turned to a smirk as he added mischievously, "Or the kiss?"
Kimber laughed and playfully batted at him, "Actually, I partly came to tell you my good news."
"Come and sit wit' me." Sheamus took her hand and led her into the locker room and over to a bench.
They sat down and Kimber turned to him, beaming brightly, "Triple H told me that I was doing a great job."
"That's not news to me, lass." Sheamus told her with pride.
Kimber ducked her head for a moment, a blush warming her cheeks at his compliment.
She faced him again and sighed happily, "And the he told me who my next One Week With. . .was."
Sheamus didn't need to guess. Just by the happiness written on her face, he knew instantly who she'd be spending the week with.
He grinned, "Ah get to have ya all to meself for an entire week?"
Kimber nodded but her smile faltered a little. An entire week. Of them together. Alone. She hadn't thought about that. Not all the way through, at least.
Sheamus noticed her change in mood and he took hold of her hand. Never breaking eye contact, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.
"It's all up to you, Kember." he told her, his warm breath against her skin, "You call the shots.
"Ah'd be lying if'n Ah said Ah was used to a woman taking the lead." he stated truthfully, "But if that's what it takes to make you feel comfortable, Ah'm all for it."
Kimber realized what he was surrendering and she felt her heart swell. Oh, this amazing man!
"I know this is a sacrifice for you." she murmured, "And I really appreciate it."
"Ah get to spend the week wit' a beautiful woman." Sheamus chuckled, "Not much of a sacrifice on my part."
Kimber beamed at that.
She grew serious, though, going back to the other reason why she was there.
She asked him gently, "How are you feeling? What happened out there. .it wasn't right."
Sheamus inhaled, his eyes growing cold as he went back to the end of his match with Del Rio.
Kimber could see the anger begin to come forth but she remained seated. She knew it wasn't directed at her and, besides, his temper was a part of him. She'd have to get used to it if she wanted to be with him.
And oh how she wanted to be with him.
"This thing wit' Big Show isn' over." he stated, voice low and tinted with rage.
Kimber glanced down at the floor and sighed, "I know."
She thought back on the chair shots he had given the large man and she shivered. Thirty-one, if she had counted right.
"How far are you willing to take this?" she asked as she regarded him hesitantly.
"As far as Ah have to." Sheamus stated evenly, without need of thought.
Kimber rose from the bench and began to wander about the room, fingers knotted in front of her. Her mouth was turned down in a frown, her thoughts racing.
Sheamus followed her with his eyes, knowing that she was upset by his answer. But he wasn't about to back down. Not to the likes of the Big Show. No feckin' way.
"Ah know that's not the answer you were wantin' to hear, Kember." he told her quietly, "But that's the way it has to be."
Kimber stopped and turned to face him. At the look of misery on her face Sheamus felt his stomach clench. He hated that look. Hated it more than he could say.
"So you raise the stakes." the SmackDown reporter raised her hands up at her sides, "And then he raises the stakes and then what? What happens after that?"
Sheamus felt his temper come back. The events of the night, plus seeing that look on her face, had set his mood well passed steamed.
He rose to his feet and demanded, "What do you want me to say, Kember? That Ah'll take all of the Show's shite and turn the other cheek. That's not the type of man Ah am."
"I know." Kimber shook her head, "But where does this lead? He knocks you out. You come back with a chair. He comes back with what? A table? And then what?"
"Then we finish it once and for all." Sheamus snapped, taking a step towards her, "He can come at me wit' his fist, a table, a bleedin' truck, Ah don' care. Ah'll keep comin' back until he's no longer left standin'."
To her credit, Kimber wasn't afraid of his temper. The truth was, it was the last thing on her mind.
Eyes flashing, she advanced on him until they were nose-to-chest, "And if you get hurt? Really hurt? Oh well? All's fair in war?"
"Yer bein' melodramatic." Sheamus sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and turning from her.
She suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking at him. He turned around to face her, not due to ministrations-moving him was like trying to move a brick wall-but because he wanted to go back to her.
Her eyes were flashing like green fire, her chest heaving as she struggled to control her own rising irritation. He had never seen her so livid before. It was fascinating to watch, really.
"'Melodramatic'?" she angrily repeated, jabbing her finger into his chest, "I'm not the one who just hit a man with a steel chair thirty-one times, Sheamus!"
He slowly looked down at her finger, studying it. His eyes then traveled to her face, his own expression one of disbelief.
Slowly he began to grin.
Kimber's eyes narrowed in confusion and she snapped, "What's so funny?"
"Ah'm sorry, angel." Sheamus told her, but didn't appear to be in the slightest, "Ah'm not laughing at ya. It's just. . ."
He motioned between them, his grin growing if that were possible, "Most men don' do what yer doin' right now. And certainly no woman, especially one at the impressive height of five-foot-three.
"Ya realize," he told her with a chuckle, "That yer standin' face-to-chest wit' me and yer not even battin' an eyelash."
Kimber paused, realization dawning on her. He was right. Here she was, practically in his face sort of, going toe-to-toe with him and she wasn't even afraid.
Slowly she began to smile.
Their eyes met and they began to laugh at the absurdity of the scene. It really was ridiculous.
"I'm sorry." she replied sincerely as their laughter began to die down, "I'm sorry for arguing with you now. Especially after everything you've gone through tonight."
Her expression took on a tender air as she went on, serious, "But I'm not sorry for caring about you. Or worrying for your safety."
She held up a hand when he opened his mouth, "And I'm not saying that you can't handle Big Show. I know you can, I've seen you do it a number of times.
"But," she reached out and took his hand, earnest, "You can't tell me that if you guys keep running at one another full force you won't get hurt. It's inevitable. And you can't force me to stop worrying about when that'll happen."
"Ah don' mean to make you worry." he stated, giving her hand a squeeze, "That's the last thing Ah want to do, lass."
He gently tugged her towards him and murmured, "And for what it's worth, Ah care about you, too."
His lips formed a smirk, "Now, if ya want to kiss me again, ya have my full permission."
Kimber shook her head and chuckled. Her laughter slowly died as she leaned up and met him in a slow, tender kiss.