A/N: So. There's a pretty big difference between constructive criticism and straight flaming/bashing. I welcome the former, as it makes me a better writer. I DO NOT welcome the latter, and if you flame/bash my story do not expect me to just sit back silently and take it. That being said, if you don't like this version of the story or this version of my OC and you're incapable of expressing that opinion to me in a constructive, respectful way, please do us all a favor and keep your rudeness to yourself. Better yet, just go ahead and unfollow this story. Thanks!

Now that that's out of the way, thank you to everyone who DOES give constructive, in-depth reviews - I can't say enough how much I appreciate it. I'm sorry this chapter isn't nearly as long as the last few have been, but despite its brevity there's actually quite a lot happening. Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

Monday, February 18, 2013
WWE Monday Night RAW
Cajundome – Lafayette, Louisiana

"Hannah!" Stephanie snapped her fingers in front of Hannah's face; Hannah snapped to attention. She let out a weary sigh—it was going to be a long night.

"What's wrong with you today?" Stephanie pried. "Is there something we need to talk about?"

"No," Hannah returned. She rubbed a hand over her forehead, exhausted. "I barely got any sleep last night. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Nothing. Can we please get to whatever it is you called me in here for?" Hannah was in no mood for Stephanie's nosiness. She was tired, she was irritable, and the absolute last thing she wanted was to talk anyone, let alone her overbearing sister, about the kiss that had kept her up all night. There was no point talking about it, anyway—it hadn't meant anything. It was a drunken stunt Jon had pulled to distract her from Phil and AJ. That was it, nothing more. Case closed.

Stephanie pursed her lips in annoyance. "Fine," she conceded. "Your fiancé's getting his contract tonight."

That was news to Hannah. "How? Will he finally win a match?"

"I didn't say he was getting a wrestling contract," she clarified. "Vince will name him the Assistant to the Managing Supervisor of RAW."

Hannah paused. Brad Maddox, assistant to Vickie "Excuse Me" Guerrero. If he hadn't grated her nerves already…

"Wait," she pondered. "How in the world are you explaining how he got that job? He's my fiancé, and the only person Vince hates more than me is Paul Heyman. It would be completely illogical for him to grant Maddox that position."

Stephanie's blue eyes twinkled. Hannah cocked her head, dubious. Her sister had something up her sleeve. "Oh, trust me," she smirked. "There's a condition."

"And? What is it?"

Stephanie became suddenly enamored with her iPhone. "Vickie will call you out to the ring tonight," she said. "You'll find out what it is then."

Hannah rolled her eyes. She hated when Stephanie pulled this cryptic bullshit; it was a move straight out of the Vince McMahon Playbook.

"That's all I wanted to tell you," she said as she glanced back up at her. "You know, you should probably get to makeup. They're gonna need industrial strength concealer for those bags under your eyes."

"Oh good one, Steph. How many brain cells did you expend coming up with that sick burn?" Hannah sarcastically returned, but her sister's self-satisfied grin remained intact. It was unsettling.

She abruptly stood and made for the door, but just as she was about to set foot in the hallway Stephanie spoke up again. "Oh and Hannah, one more thing." Her eyes darkened. "Whatever you do, don't break character."

Hannah retreated, her nerves rattled. Stephanie had something planned, and that was never a good thing.

"EXCUSE ME!" Vickie Guerrero practically screamed into the mike to be heard above the crowd, but it was useless. The louder she got, the louder they got. "I am Vickie Guerrero, and I am the Managing Supervisor of Monday Night RAW!"

Hannah rolled her eyes as she stood, arms crossed, next to Paul Heyman. Vickie had called them both out to the ring; apparently this announcement of hers pertained to them both. Hannah was willing to bet it would be a total waste of their time.

"Now Paul, Hannah—let's not waste any more time," Vickie went on. "I said I had a huge announcement to make tonight; an announcement that could drastically change your career and even your whole life, Paul. And Hannah," she smiled ominously at the chairman's daughter. "I'm sure it will affect you, too."

She chortled into the microphone, all too pleased with herself. Hannah glowered, impatient. "Well would you get on with it then? I don't have all night."

"Yes, Vickie, please do get on with it," Heyman agreed. "Hannah has careers to destroy."

Hannah rounded on Heyman. "Are you kidding me? I've done nothing but help—"

"EXCUSE ME!" Vickie screeched so loudly it made Hannah's ears ring. "As I was saying, tonight I am going to be naming a new assistant for myself."

Heyman's eyebrows arched, unimpressed. "And?" he charged. Vickie ignored him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she continued, "please welcome the Assistant to the Managing Supervisor of Monday Night RAW: Brad Maddox!"

Hannah's eyes widened. For a second, she wasn't sure what to say; Vickie couldn't be serious. "I'm sorry; what did you just say?"

Vickie's only response was that maniacal cackle of hers. It took every fiber of Hannah's being not to smack her upside the head—but then Brad emerged from underneath the TitanTron, microphone in hand, and suddenly is was him she wanted to smack. She snatched Vickie's mike from her hands and glared up the ramp at her fiancé. "Brad, you better explain to me right now what the hell she's talking about." She was incensed—but Maddox clearly couldn't care less.

"Please, babe, don't get your panties all in a jumble; save that for later," he quipped as he strolled down the ramp. "I do have an explanation, and the thing is, Vincent Kennedy McMahon himself—dear old Dad—he made me an offer I simply couldn't refuse. And now," he paused to climb the steel steps and duck through the ropes into the ring, "he's named me Assistant Managing Supervisor."

Hannah remained deadly quiet. But before she could erupt like a volcano Vickie rudely and abruptly snatched the microphone back from her. "Uh, excuse me, Brad," she started with a bit of a laugh, "it's Assistant to the Managing Supervisor."

"Right," Maddox nodded. "Assistant Managing Supervisor."

"Assistant TO the Managing Supervisor."

"That's what I said."

"Is this my cue to vomit?" Heyman interrupted—but then Hannah took charge again. She grabbed Brad's hand and pulled his microphone slowly toward her mouth. Her eyes were dark.

"What exactly was the offer dear old Dad made you, sweetheart?" She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. But before Maddox could respond, the man in question answered for himself.

"Oh I'll tell you what the offer was, Hannah." Vince McMahon's gravelly voice sounded throughout the arena. Hannah looked up to find her father staring down at her from the TitanTron screen. It was rather intimidating seeing him looming above her like that, literally larger than life. Even with the crutches propping him up, he looked downright frightening.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he went on, "but last week you and Brad got into a little argument about, well, his work situation. You told him it was his fault he didn't have a WWE contract because he failed to win any of his sanctioned matches, did you not?"

"Mr. McMahon," Maddox interjected, "with all due respect, I was the victim of poor officiating in every single one of those—"

Hannah snatched the mike from him before he could finish. "Yes," she answered outright. "I did say that, and it is his fault he doesn't have a contract."

"Uh, didn't have a contract, dear," Maddox corrected. "Past tense. I have one now."

"Whoa, whoa," Vince interjected. "Not so fast there, Brad. I'm not done yet, and you know what our deal was.

"You see Hannah, that wasn't a very nice thing of you to say to your fiancé, now was it? Take it from me: a marriage is supposed to be a partnership. You should want to help Brad in any way you can! You should want to see him succeed! You do want him to succeed… don't you?"

Hannah drew her lips into a thin, agitated grin; that was the exact same thing Maddox had asked her last week. "Of course I do," she sweetly returned.

Maddox wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. "I love you too, sugar pants," he grinned. Hannah did her best not to gag.

"Well then I would say it's about damn time you helped him out!" Vince proclaimed. "It's about time you made good on your promise to get him a contract; and perhaps you can succeed where he's failed so many times."

Hannah's scowl faded; her heart dropped like a stone into her stomach. If this was going where she thought this was going…

"You see, this position I've granted Brad Maddox is conditional because, well, it's on one condition that he'll get to keep it: Next week on RAW, Hannah, you have to win a match. I'll leave your opponent up to Vickie."

A ripple of excitement rushed throughout the crowd. Vickie cackled. Hannah's jaw dropped. She was going to murder Stephanie.

"What?!" she erupted and charged at Maddox. "You knew about this?! You agreed to this?!"

"Only because I believe in you, babe," he coolly returned. But Hannah was at a complete loss for words.

The rest of the segment passed by in a blur. Vince challenged Heyman to a match on RAW, but Hannah had mentally checked out as soon as she'd learned about her match. And as soon as the show went to commercial, she stormed backstage and made a beeline for her brother-in-law.

"What the fuck, Paul?" Everyone around turned and gawked at her, but she couldn't care less if she made a scene. She was furious. "A match? You put me in a fucking match and that's how you tell me? Where the fuck is Stephanie? Hiding?"

Paul fixed steely eyes on her, his jaw hard. "First of all, I suggest you calm down and adjust your tone right now," he warned. "Second, I understand why you're upset. But it garnered a genuine reaction this way."

"A genuine reaction? Are you serious?" She grabbed at her hair in frustration. "I have a week, Paul! A week to learn how to wrestle!"

His tone remained even. "Well then I suggest you get to training."

Hannah's jaw dropped. If he weren't her boss, if they weren't in front of all these people right now—

"Come down to NXT for the week. I'll train you."

Her eyes shut tight at the sound of Maddox's voice. And she'd thought this situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

"How generous of you, Brad," Paul lauded. "Looks like you're all set, Hannah." He flashed her that shit-eating grin she'd become all too familiar with over the years. Her fists clenched tighter. Sometimes Paul infuriated her even more than Stephanie did.

"Hannah, Brad," a production assistant cautiously interrupted. "We need to film a backstage segment with you two now."

Hannah let out a huff; she was far from done with Paul, but this conversation would have to wait. She stuck an ominous finger in his face. "One day, I promise you'll get yours," she vowed, and she stalked off after Maddox, everyone's eyes following.

"So I'm gonna take a wild guess that you had no idea about your match next week?"

Hannah didn't answer Colby; she just let out an exasperated, angry groan as she tossed her things into the back of her rental. "I'm gonna take that as a no," he figured.

"I had no fucking clue," she returned. "I found out at the exact same moment as you and the entire rest of the world. I can't believe Stephanie. I knew she was out to humiliate me but I never thought she'd do this." Forget her and Maddox's impending nuptials—a wrestling match was a foolproof way for Stephanie to ensure that Hannah made an absolute fool of herself. She'd never wrestled a day in her life. A week was not nearly enough time to go from "zero" to "live match on RAW."

"Don't stress about it," Colby advised. "They know you're not a wrestler; I'm sure they'll find some ridiculous way to get you over. Do you know who you're working?"

She shook her head. "No. My guess is Nattie or some other babyface, though. I mean, I'm obviously gonna win."

"Of course," he grinned. "Your fiancé has to keep his job."

Hannah chewed on her lip, suddenly nervous. "Do you have to go to Qatar? Come to Florida and teach me how to wrestle," she pouted up at him. "Jon and Roman can handle the RAW World Tour without you."

Colby let out a laugh. "I love you, Hannah, but there's no chance in hell I'm skipping the RAW World Tour to teach you how to wrestle. Don't worry; you're in good hands with Chris. I learned a ton from him at Ring of Honor."

Hannah fidgeted. She knew she was in good hands with Chris. She just didn't know if she'd be able to learn anything he'd teach her in a week.

"Yo!" Roman called out from across the parking lot; he and Jon walked toward them, laden down with gym bags and suitcases. "Let's go," he said to Colby. "We gotta hit the road."

Hannah frowned up at him again. "Please don't leave me."

"You'll be fine!" he assured as he gave her a hug. "Just watch—I bet you're a natural."

"Yeah, a natural disaster," she quipped. They said their goodbyes, and she gave a halfhearted grin as Colby went to join his teammates. At least he had some faith in her, unlike her stupid sister. She turned to get in her car, ready to hit the road—hopefully the drive would clear her mind—but before she could open the door someone called out her name.

"Hannah!"

She turned, her fingers in the door handle. It was Jon.

"Were you gonna leave without saying goodbye to me?" he asked as he jogged up to her. Hannah shifted, her heart nervously thrumming in her chest. This was the first time he'd spoken to her since last night—the first time since the kiss that didn't matter.

"Would you care if I did?" she returned.

His blue eyes narrowed. "I don't know," he thought aloud. "Maybe." He smirked down at her, and she fidgeted underneath his gaze like she always did. It was particularly penetrating tonight, as if he could see right through her.

"Why'd you kiss me last night?" The question blurted out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Was it really just to get me to stop thinking about Phil?"

Jon stepped closer; Hannah's heart hammered faster. She could smell his cologne. It was the same scent she'd smelled on his sheets the night she'd slept in his bed, earthy and warm. "Yeah, it was," he admitted. "But I've been wanting to do it again ever since."

Hannah's stomach flip-flopped. She tried to talk, but her brain had turned to mush. She could barely get her legs to work when Jon tugged her into him, and when his lips captured hers for a second time it was even better than the first.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart. Hannah's hands clutched at his shirt. Jon smirked. "See you next week, boss."

"Bye." She could barely get the word out. He sent her a wink and a grin, and with that he left, her lips tingling.