A/N: When your ship is blessed by a leprechaun, it HAS to be true love! hahaha

Quick note: This is NOT the next chapter. Think of this as chapter 10.5 LOL But after seeing Eve act all bitchy to Punkers this past Monday night (and yeah, I'll address last RAW later this week in the real chapter - Proposal! Hug! AJ FINALLY Slapping Daniel! "Big Money!" Hornswoggle! Haha) I just HAD to respond in my own way…call it a little plot bunny that refused to stop chewing on my leg until I fed it. (morbid much? lol)

Special shout to everyone who reviewed, and big ups to DemonicXaliv for being the FIRST entrant into my little AJ/Punk mini-contest. Remember folks, send me your 1 minute video entries by Saturday, and you can guest star in an upcoming chapter or have featured a Superstar/Diva of your choice!

This one will be quick, until the next chapter later this week. On with the show!

Hard to Handle

Part 10.5

Smackdown - Punk's Locker Room

Before the Bell

The chords and drums of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" blasted in Punk's ears as he warmed up with several high-extension kicks, loosening the muscles in his powerful legs while he warmed up.

This was how he loosened up before matches, how he toned the body and put his mind at ease. It had always worked well, dating back to when he was just a goofy teenage kid doing backyard wrestling with his buddies out of a warehouse in Mokena, Illinois. When he was trading blows with the likes of wrestling legend Raven and fellow indy stars Austin Aries, AJ Styles and Samoa Joe in Ring of Honor. When he was the star rookie working his way up the ranks in McMahon's version of ECW. When he finally cracked the big time making the RAW Roster in 2008. And even on the night when he finally won his first World Heavyweight Championship by cashing in his Money in the Bank briefcase on edge.

He needed this release, a few moments where the world and all of its responsibilities—protecting AJ, defending his title, Laurinaitis, Jericho, Daniel Bryan, all of it—would fade away and it was just him in his element, focusing, yet relaxing, clearing his mind.

And his mind was just full of thoughts. The wolves were at the gate, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time before he would find out what Laurinaitis had planned for him, and something told him it wasn't going to be pretty. And while AJ had assured him that she could take care of herself, the fact was, Punk knew the pressure of keeping her out of harm's way from here on out was completely on his shoulders. If she got hurt, it would be his fault, for putting her in that position in the first place, for not being good enough to protect her. He had never felt that kind of pressure before in his life. Top it all off, he STILL had to defend his championship.

But at the same time, he acknowledged that AJ had a point. The more he worried himself thinking about this, the more likely he was to end up making a costly mistake, and that simply would not do. For the man known as the "Best in the World," it would simply not be becoming of him to make mistakes out there. He had to smile a little at how it was AJ herself who made him realize that. She was that sturdy mast that held his sails even in the stormiest sea, the rock that he could anchor his ship to. They just balanced each other so well that it was almost freaky how in sync they were. It was only her words that were able to get the WWE Champion's head focused back to where he needed to be for this match tonight.

Hearing a knock on his door, he smiled, thinking it was AJ. "Come on in, babe, door's open."

As he turned to face the opening door, however, his smile faded as he took in a most unwelcome sight that was definitely NOT his sweet AJ.

"Don't mind if I do, champ," came the rather smug voice of Eve Torres, clad in short gray skirt, a low-cut black blouse and glasses.

Punk groaned as his eyes briefly looked up to the ceiling and down at his shoes again. He was sure that there were about a couple million men in the world that would have loved to have a hot chick like Eve walk in on them, but he was definitely not one of them.

"You know, uh, a girl could get used to you calling her 'babe,'" she smiled rather coquettishly, twirling an idle strand of hair.

"Well, MY girl is already used to it," he replied brusquely, regarding her from head to toe. "What do you want, Eve?"

"Well, I just came to wish you good luck," Eve replied innocently. "Is that so wrong?"

Punk scoffed, cynically. "Everything about you is wrong, Eve. Oh, but good luck to you, too, getting off all that spray-tanner after the show."

"Spray tanner?" Eve bristled. "I'll have you know this is a completely natural tan."

"Then why have I never seen that shade of orange anywhere in nature?" Punk wondered aloud, smirking. "Oh, wait a minute, yes I have…it's called 'Oompa Loompa.'"

Tongue in cheek, Eve forced a wry smile, forcing herself to remain calm. She was more dignified than to get into a verbal spat with a mere wrestler…no matter how hot he was. "Cute, Punk, very amusing. I meant to say good luck trying to retain as champion. You poked the biggest shark around here in the eye, and now he's coming to swallow you whole."

Punk merely smiled. "Toots, John Laurinaitis is hardly a shark, he's like a retarded guppy with a gland problem that makes him think he's a shark. I've jumped his fiery hoops before, and I've still walked out on top, and whatever you, him and Mr. Jennifer Hudson can think of next, I'll beat those odds, too. Now if that's all you had to say, then why don't you run along—"

"Not exactly," she cut him off, keeping her tone poised and controlled at all times. By now, Eve had come to know just what it took in this man's world, and she knew exactly what kinds of buttons to push in a man. "I can't even imagine the pressure you have to be under now. I mean, it's one thing to have to defend the most prestigious championship in the business…but add to that the burden of defending someone who, quite frankly, is pretty much a liability around the ring—"

"What are you babbling about, Eve?" Punk impatiently cut her off, not liking where he presumed she was going.

Her smile was snake-like. "I'm talking about AJ, of course. She's 95 pounds soaking wet, and is an extremely emotional girl that doesn't think twice about throwing herself into harm's way around people she cares about. I mean, we both know what she was willing to do when she was with Daniel Bryan. And I heard about that little stunt she pulled after you and your little friends all went celebrating at a club last Monday. I'd be willing to bet she'd take a bullet for you, wouldn't she?"

"Maybe, but, guess what? I'd do the same for her in a heartbeat," Punk bit out, his hardened eyes glowering at Eve.

Amused, her lips twitched. "Oh, how sweet. But this isn't like the movies, Romeo. This is real life. I mean, we know you can take a beating and keep getting up for more, but AJ's just so…fragile. One wrong bump from a guy who outweighs her by a few hundred pounds and her career could be over. And under your watch, too, as her boyfriend? That would cost you a few man points in the eyes of more than a few folks up top. In a sense, her career, and yours, are all resting on you now, aren't they?"

He hated the way her words twisted into his psyche, playing on his still-too-fresh insecurities. How she seemed to see right into the cracks of his defenses and chipped away at them mercilessly. Because deep down, he knew she was right. AJ had been dragged into this because of him. If his girlfriend got hurt and he couldn't protect her, what kind of a man would that make him?

Not a man at all, was the bitter thought echoing in his head.

Eve forced herself not to smile as she took in the troubled look in his clouded green eyes, deciding to twist the knife even further as she let her hand rest on his left bicep, silently relishing the hard muscle she found there. "And what's more, it's kind of strange that…you've been WWE Champion for over half the year already, but, well, it can't be easy…"

"What can't be easy, Eve?" he demanded, wishing that this bitch would just go away already and let him prepare in peace.

"Well, you've had great matches, the best of the year so far, everyone knows that," she said in fake sincerity. "And yet you've been overshadowed by…what was that list again?...The Rock, John Cena, Triple H, Brock Lesnar, hell, even Big Show. And now when the WWE Universe is finally buzzing about you again, all they can talk about is you and…AJ? Really? They find your personal life more fascinating than your in-ring talent?

"You're the cover boy of the WWE 13 video game, the so-called 'Best in the World' and the reigning WWE Champion…yet they can't talk about you without mentioning some scrawny little no-name ring rat who was jerking the curtain only a year ago while you were dropping pipe bombs and changing the landscape of this company?" Her smirk was cruel. "Wow, that must be pretty…emasculating."

His temper was crackling and he admitted to himself, if Eve was a man, he'd have her swallowing her teeth right now. But Punk was raised by a strict code he learned from his mother—women are to be respected, and never struck physically...no matter how much Eve deserved it.

But forcing down that thought, he grinned a wolf-like smile at her. She was a conniving little minx, he'd give her that, but if she wanted to bust his balls, then he was going to give her something to remember why he was the Master of the Pipe Bomb.

"Emasculating…you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Eve?" he smirked, noting how her smug grin faltered just a little bit at the evil look he was giving her. "Taking a man as respected and as revered as Teddy Long, the former GM of Smackdown, and making him wear a name tag and a maid outfit. Stringing along Zack Ryder and kicking him right in the nuts after you cost him one of the biggest matches of his career at Wrestlemania. Using your tits and ass to play Zack and Cena and Kane against each other, so you could get a little buzz to generate what, up until then…was a pretty stale career."

He chuckled as her posture tensed and her lips pursed tightly, her light green eyes narrowed as she took in his stinging words. "I mean, you talk about me being overshadowed, but you know what? Not only am I all the buzz now, but I've already been all the buzz. I've made it to the top, I've fought the big dogs and earned all the respect I've gotten, without having to kiss anyone's ass to do it. And as far as me being overshadowed by AJ? Hey, lots of famous wrestlers have been attached to beautiful women. Macho Man had Miss Elizabeth. Shawn Michaels had Sensational Sherri. Triple H had Stephanie McMahon. Christian had Trish Stratus, for a little while. Edge—remember him? Hall of Famer?—he had Lita...well, before I had her, but whatever. So, no, I'm not ashamed to be seen with AJ, I consider it an honor, especially because I know the kind of woman she is, how she fits with me. But you? You've been in this company for…how long now?"

"Four years," she tersely replied.

"Ah, four years," Punk nodded condescendingly. "You've been Divas Champ twice in that time, and yet…you couldn't draw a single reaction out of the crowd, could you? I mean, the times you came out there, I could have heard crickets. But the rest of the Divas…Mickie James, Melina, Beth Phoenix, Michelle McCool, Maryse, Kelly Kelly, and she can't even wrestle, and even the Bella Twins…all of them got a pretty decent sized pop. The audience cared about them enough so that they would actually pay attention. You on the other hand…well, the only thing you inspire when your music hits, is a reminder that it's time to take a bathroom break. For a woman with as many gifts as you possess, even Hornswoggle has more excitement around him than you. There's a word for people like you in this business, too, Eve…failure."

Hitting at the Achilles heel of her ego—Eve's insecurity towards her success—was the last straw for Eve as she lashed out, her hand flying towards Punk's face, only for the champion to catch it effortlessly in his steely grip.

"Don't even try it, honey," he smirked. "Don't act like a child because you wanted to play a battle of wits against someone just a little bit wiser than you and you lost."

Angrily, she jerked her hand out of his grip, rubbing her wrist as she glared hatefully at him. And the twisted part of it was…she still wanted him so badly it was killing her.

"So, are we done here?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Because I've gotta go kick Jericho and Ziggler's teeth in, so I really need to prepare, and you need to get the hell out of my locker room."

Taking in a deep breath to compose herself, Eve forced a smile. "Oh, I'll go, because I have things to do, but believe me, Punk…we're not done."

"That sounded like a come-on, Miss Torres," he replied mockingly. "And there's a strict sexual harassment policy in this company. Keep it up and I might have to report you to HR. I know you want me, but a little professionalism, please."

Rather than get angry—outwardly, anyway—she merely gave him a rather steamy smile. "Well, too bad. The possibilities could be…intriguing. But if you ever feel like stepping out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end…I'll be around."

She heard him scoffing as she turned on her heels and left, but Eve was not daunted. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted, as of late, and one way or another, she would have CM Punk; all she had to do was to get rid of that little twit AJ, first.

Smiling wickedly, she realized exactly who she needed for the job…

TBC

Well, that's a wrap for now! Hopefully it will hold you over until we see the last part of Smackdown through the eyes of the Great White, Sheamus, later this week. Read, review and like me on Facebook (Jean-theGuardian) and be sure to check for the latest update soon.

If you Sa-MEEEE-LALALALALLALALALALA-LOWWW! What #TeamAJPunk…Is…Cookin'! (raises eyebrow)

-Jean-theGuardian