Chapter 10 : Our lives are defined by moments! Especially ones we never see coming!

A/N - So, the T key on my laptop is a bit dodgy atm, I have tried my best to be thorough and correct any missing T's in the chaper but I'm sure there's probably 1 or 2 I've missed...I'm apologising in advance for this :-) Thanks for new review and follows. Very much appreciated. Thanksssssss

"Oh my lord, I feel like a beached whale," Rachel groaned, rubbing her stomach.

Her and Scott were currently lying atop Punks bed, in the apartment he sporadically shared with Scott whenever he returned to Chicago. They were taking turns to complain about how full they were, having arrived home thirty minutes ago from dinner at the Coltons'. The top button of her jeans was undone, and she had pulled her vest up so that it sat like a sports bra. Her bloated tummy needed all the room it could get to breathe.

"Yeah, I think my mum misunderstood me when I told her my Scottish friend was coming to dinner. I think she took it to mean the entire population of Scotland was coming to eat."

"Sooooooo much food. So much goooood food," she heaved a sigh. "Honestly, I would consider becomming a Jew just for the food."

"Hmmm, can't see my Rabbi allowing you to convert for that reason somehow."

"You have a Rabbi?"

"No," he laughed, "Not one that would recognise me anyway. Can't even remember last time I set foot in a synagogue."

"You're a bad Jew," she playfully scolded him.

"And you're a bad Christian, when was he last time you were in a Church?" he countered.

"A couple of months ago when my mum came to visit," she told him. "She don't miss her Sunday service no matter what Country she's in or what Continent she's on."

"Ah, can't believe I missed Mama Cooks visit," he turned towards her and used his elbow to support his head. He'd visited her family many times when they had been travelling around the UK together and had grown to love the formidable Mrs Cook.

"Both my parents came. Paul too."

"The Cooks do America," he sniggered. "I bet you miss them like hell huh?"

"Pretty much," she bit her lip, "I've been close, so many times, to just packing it all in and flying home."

"What stopped you?" he asked.

"Lots of different things," she shrugged. "Waking up every morning and getting to go be trained by the likes of Dusty Rhodes and Arn Anderson. Working with Punk. Seeing the photo of my Granddad every time I open my purse and knowing how much he'd be popping for me right now if he were here. Mostly it's just my own sheer will and determination. I'm too stubborn to quit. It's gotten easier over time though. And getting to attend my very first live Wrestlemania this Sunday, is just the cherry on top of the pudding," she grinned over at him. "Especially after the week I've had," she added.

"Bad week?"

"Not bad, just kinda weird."

"In what way?"

"I dunno…I had a drunken bust up with Punk, Beth left, Brent Albright asked me out and Serena had a go at me for…I dunno…spending too much time with Punk and not paying attention to what everyone else was up to…"

"Woah woah woah….slow down a minute," he held a hand up, "Albright asked you out? Like, on a date?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "We went for coffee on Tuesday and then he took me to dinner last night after the show."

"Rach, you know he's married, right?"

"Yeah, he told me. They're separated though. He's just waiting on his divorce coming through."

"Uh…okay. Just be careful. Married guys come with a hellova lot of baggage," he warned.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she brushed him off, "It's nothing too serious between us, I only went out with him to wipe the smirk off Punks face. Plus, with Beth leaving and Serena basically giving me shit for always being with Punk, I thought it wouldn't hurt to get to know more people."

"I guess…" he trailed of.

"Anyway, CC, we've been talking about me all night. Let's hear more about you," she turned on her side and faced him. "You've just came back a tour of the UK, right? How's all my boys doing at 1pw?"

"They're all good. They send their love. On this tour I was working the tag team division. Burridge was my partner. We were called Team SHAG," he told her with a little grin on his face.

She cleared her throat. "Team SHAG?"

"Yep. Stood for Street Hooligans Adventure Gang," he said, trying to look as innocent as he could.

"Sure it did," she looked at him suspiciously. "Nothing at all to do with the fact shag means sex in Britain."

"Not at all," he feigned ignorance. "How would I know that? I'm an American. What would I know about you Brits and you're weird interpretations of the English language?"

"You mean the language we invented?"

"Meh," he shrugged and they both laughed.

The sound of someone coming in the front door made them freeze and look at each other in horror. There was only one other person with a key to the apartment and they were currently lying on top of his bed. They hadn't expected him home.

"Guys?" he called from the sitting room.

"Through here Punk," Scott shouted, earning himself a "what are you doing?" look from Rachel. He shrugged in response.

"Why are you two sprawled out on my bed?" Punk asked as he stood in the door way to his room.

"Um….." Rachel floundered.

"We thought you'd be staying with Maria tonight," Scott tried to explain.

"Nah, she was giving me grief over something or another so I just left. Can't be assed arguing. And that still doesn't clarify why you guys are in my room. What's wrong with your room?" he asked Scott.

"Uh…well, you see…..we had a lot to eat at my moms….."

A look of complete and utter bewilderment adorned Punks face but he didn't say anything, just cocked his head to the side and waited for Scott to continue.

"And we kinda figured we'd have a lot of….well, gas….."

Punk raised his eyebrow, "You're using my room to fart in?"

"Well, we didn't think you'd be back tonight and we didn't wanna stink out my room when we both have to sleep in there" Scott laughed.

"Are you kiddin' me right now? Is this what you do when I'm down in Kenucky?" he asked, eyes wide in indignation. "Turn my room into your own version of a gas chamber?"

"Oh Punk, don't get your knickers in a twist, it was my idea," Rachel interjected. "And we did open the window."

"Yeah, because it would've been so difficult to open the one in his room instead," he sulked, pointing at Cabana.

"Get over it already," she commanded, "And come tell us how your night was," she shimmied across the bed closer to Scott and patted the space inviting Punk do lie down.

"My night sucked donkey balls," he flopped down beside them. "Maria had a go at me about….well…I'm not really sure what it was about. Soon as the nagging started I zoned out," he sighed. "I did see Jimmy Hart in the hotel lobby on my way out though. That was sorta cool."

This brought forth an excited little yelp from Rachel. The boys both turned and looked at her.

"What? It's exciting. Wrestlemania," she said wistfully. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Punk scoffed and Scott playfully shoved her. A phone rang from one of the other rooms.

"That's me," Rachel struggled in her bloated state to get up. She exited the room and left the boys talking amongst themselves about Punks up and coming Wrestlemania debut. A short while later, they heard a shriek followed by her yelling, "NO, NO, NO," at the top of her lungs. They both bolted off the bed and shot through to the sitting room.

When they entered she was on the sofa, knees pulled up to her chest, head in one hand crying hysterically, and repeatedly shouting down the phone, "What happened?", but it was obvious in her distress that she wasn't listening to whoever was on the other end of line. Punk sat on the coffee table near her and Scott sat beside her on the sofa, touching her leg to let her know they were there. She looked up. She was shaking from head to toe, her whole face was red and blotchy, her eyes were already swollen and her lips puffy and trembling uncontrollably. Punk grabbed a box of tissues from beside him and held them out to her. She missed the gesture so Scott reached out and took one, then leaned over and began dabbing her eyes with it. It had a considerable soothing affect on her. Her loud wails calmed into deep gulping sobs.

"I have to go," she whispered, almost inaudibly, a few minutes later to her caller and hung up.

"Rach?" Scott asked softly, taking her hand in his.

"M-m-my D-d-dad," she stuttered, "He's…D-d-dead. My d-dad's dead. Oh my god, my dad's dead. He's dead." she howled and began bawling again.