Sheamus stood out in the hall during Raw the next night, warming up. While he did that Ali sat on one of the crew's large, metal cases-helped up there by Sheamus no less-and swung her feet, watching him. She was regarding him silently, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The Irishman glanced over to see her quickly duck her head but the tiny smile remained. He turned around fully, brows knit. She had been looking at him and smiling like that for the last ten minutes. What was going on in that curly haired head of hers?

"What's the craic, Ahlina?" he questioned at last.

Ali blinked, confused, "Say what now?"

He took a step towards her, explaining, "What's goin' on wit' you? You've been starin' at me for the past ten minutes wit' that little smile on yer face."

"Nothing." the assistant promptly ducked her head, trying to change the subject, "So what do you feel like eating after the show tonight? I could go for a burger or, hey, pizza sounds great."

"Un-uh." Sheamus walked over and slipped a finger under her chin, tilting her face up so that she had to meet his gaze full on, "Quit tryin' to change the subject and tell me what yer thinkin' about."

"Nothing. I'm just in a good mood." she was a terrible liar.

He growled, more for show than in actually anger, and leaned down until the pair were practically nose-to-nose. He stared deeply into her eyes, letting her see that he wasn't going to let the matter drop.

"What. Are you. Thinkin'. About?" he asked the words slowly and directly.

Ali began to blush at his frank gaze. Nervousness and giddiness warred inside her and she found herself giggling and her blush growing. Her behavior was so charming and infectious that the Celtic Warrior began to grin, as well. He just couldn't help himself.

"What?" he threw his hands up and practically pleaded, laughing, "What's so funny?"

Ali ducked her head and bit her lip, smiling shyly. Suddenly she felt very hesitant to tell him. What would he do? Say something conceited? Be embarrassed? She could definitely see it going either way. Maybe she shouldn't say anything.

She peeked up at him through her lashes, knowing that she had to say it. The truth was, she wanted to say it.

"I. . ." she closed her eyes and mentally built up her courage, "I was just thinking that. . . you. . .have really pretty eyes."

She dared to look up at him, nervous. He was still, stunned by her announcement.

He couldn't believe it. That definitely wasn't what he expected her to say. Hearing those words caused his face to begin to flush with embarrassment.

Ali took in his reaction and she felt her smile growing. She stared into those eyes, taking them in. A clear, light blue framed with long, red tinted lashes. She couldn't decide if they were more of a pale lapis or blue ashes. Regardless, they truly were beautiful.

The realization of it had hit her that afternoon and had been stuck in her mind all day. She would continually find herself looking over at him and studying them. It was silly, she knew. She felt like a high school girl with a crush and not a soon-to-be twenty-eight-year-old woman. It was embarrassing.

Sheamus' gaze returned to her, studying her. The only thing he could wonder was where had this sudden revelation of hers come from?

Doubts, always laying in wait, began to slip out of the shadows of his mind and hiss to him. Why was she saying this now? What did she want? What was her angle? Because she didn't, couldn't, mean it. He was sure of it.

But she looked so sincere. That sweet smile on her lips and that blush. Nobody could be that good of an actress.

They could if they really wanted somethin', his mind snarled, And she has to want somethin'. Women like that don' pay you compliments every day, fella. Not without wantin' somethin' in return.

Ali's own eyes widened slightly, her smile fading away as he once again leaned down, their faces inches apart. His expression was hard, his features tense.

Even though he appeared angry he also never looked more handsome to her. She couldn't describe the reasons why. Maybe it was his slightly primal nature. That feral side of him that called to her. And it did call to her. She could no longer deny that.

They continued to stare at one another, the air filling with tension. But it wasn't all with the burn of anger. There was another source of heat there, as well. One that sizzled.

"Sheamus, you're up!" one of the crew called, breaking the spell.

They quickly broke apart, looking away from one another. The Irishman rubbed the back of his neck while Ali fidgeted with her long curls.

"Cone on." he muttered before asking with a smirk, "Or do you need help? It's a long way down for a wee lass."

Ali turned to him and scoffed but wasn't really offended, "I'm not that short."

He arched his eyebrows at her and she sighed, relenting, "Okay, maybe I am. And yes, please."

He stepped up to her and reached out, his large warm hands grasping her tiny waist. Ali couldn't help but shiver at his touch; she could feel his warm embrace seeping through her blouse and scorching her skin.

He felt her shiver but didn't comment on it The truth was, he was too entranced with the feel of her body in his hands to notice much else.

She was struck by his strength as he effortlessly lifted her up, holding her in the air far longer than was necessary before slowly bringing her to her feet before him. His hands slid up her torso, holding steady for a few moments before he eventually released her and pulled away.

Smirking down at her, he turned and began to make his way towards the ring. Ali fell into step behind him, her head swimming.

The man had an animal magnetism about him. A raw masculinity that made her feel powerless.

Darn him.

Sheamus appeared on the stage to the accompaniment of cheers and boos. Grinning widely, he began his trek to the ring with Ali trailing behind.

He reached the ring, climbing the steps and slipping between the ropes. Ali was going to remain on the floor, so she was surprised when he held the ropes open for her and motioned for her to enter.

The assistant climbed into the ring and took a step back, watching as the Irishman walked over to the other side and took a mic.

He walked to the center, that grin still on his lips as he raise the microphone, "The champ is still here!"

The fans began to boo and even Ali found herself frowning at that. What had happened in that match last night wasn't fair. Not that Sheamus cared. He was still the champion and clearly that was all that mattered to him.

"And to prove that Ah'm still a fightin' champion, Ah'm goin' to defend my title tonight. Right! Now!" he announced to the cheers of the fans.

The assistant's eyes widened at that announcement. So soon after that grueling match with John? Worry began to well up inside her. She just hoped he was up for it.

"So why don' me worthy opponent make his way down to the ring." Sheamus looked towards the stage.

Suddenly Santino Marella's music came blaring out over the venue. It wasn't long before the Italian wrestler was making his way down to ringside, doing his usual 'power walk' run.

The Celtic Warrior watched him appear and he began to chuckle. Sometimes it was just too easy to fool these muppets.

He turned to see Ali looking up at him in disappointment and the smile instantly vanished from his lips.

"Yeah, cause that's fair." she muttered in frustration.

His eyes began to narrow in annoyance. But the thing was, he wasn't sure who he was more annoyed with. Her, for her reaction. Or him, because he had been the one to make her feel that way.

He cleared his throat and offered a cold smirk, "Don' look so surprised, sweetness."

His smirk faded, somberness coming over him as he added a little angrily, "Ah told you Ah wasn' a nice guy. Don' you understand that by now?"

He saw her eyes widen slightly, hurt and disappointment tinting them and he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He told himself that he didn't care. That it was her own fault for thinking there was something there when there clearly wasn't.

Their talk last night, coupled with her comments just a few minutes ago, were starting to get to him. It had been so much easier when he was angry with her or lusting after her. He could handle those emotions.

But the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. And he didn't want to like her. Liking led to feelings and feelings were something he couldn't deal with. Not anymore. Didn't need them. Didn't want them.

Especially not for this woman who could kill him or make him live with just a look.

So he had to do whatever he could to keep her away and protect himself.

Ali shook her head at him and turned, slipping out of the ring. She climbed down to the floor and took a step back, arms crossed under her chest.

She couldn't believe he was doing this. Santino Marella of all people? He was as big of a threat as Zack Ryder, for goodness sake.

Sheamus mood darkened even more as Santino made his way between the ropes. All he wanted to do was end this and leave.

He handed the title over to the ref and backed into his corner, his eyes locked on the other man. Santino noticed how he was glowering at him and his happy nature quickly deflated, worry coming over him.

The ref showed him the belt before presenting it to the fans. Justin Roberts gave the introductions and the bell rang, signaling the start of the match.

Sheamus started to advance on the smaller man when Santino quickly slipped his head between the top and middle rope, calling out for him to wait.

The Irishman was forced back by the ref and he glared at the other man, his hands clenching and unclenching.

Santino came back in and, again, Sheamus came at him. And, again, Santino slipped back out. Sheamus felt his frustration growing and as the ref tried to push him back he shoved the man away and stalked towards the Italian.

Santino dove out onto the apron. Unfortunately for him, Sheamus was right behind him. He pulled him back against the ropes, locking his arms over the top one. Teeth grit and face filled with rage, he began to hammer blow after blow onto the smaller man's chest.

Ali gasped before turning away, closing her eyes tightly. She could hear the fans as they began to count along, "One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!"

It was followed by crowd cheering, booing and gasping, coupled with the sound of something hitting flesh.

Ali spun around to see Santino laid out on the canvas, his cheek and jaw slowly reddening. Sheamus glared down at him for a few moments before he covered him. His eyes locked on Ali's and he began to smirk as the ref counted to three.

The bell rang and the Celtic Warrior jumped to his feet, beating his chest and throwing his arms out at his sides, bellowing to the crowd. The assistant looked up at him with a sad shake of her head.

She didn't understand him. She truly didn't. He could be so kind sometimes. So gentle. And when he allowed himself to truly let go he could also be quite funny and charming.

But then something would happen and he'd revert to the barbarian she had first met. The man who had scared her.

It both saddened and frustrated her. Would she ever be able to figure him out? Would she ever be able to break through his walls?

Sheamus climbed out of the ring and motioned for her to follow him. She did so, trailing after as he made his way back up the ramp and through the backstage area.

She slipped into his locker room and sat down, watching as he snatched up his towel and toiletries before disappearing into the showers.

She sighed, putting her chin in her hands. She went back to his reaction to her admission. That was the last thing she expected from him: anger. Conceit, yes. Embarrassment, sure. But anger?

Why did that make him so angry?

She blinked and slowly sat up. Maybe he didn't believe she was being sincere. Could that be it? Did he think she was lying?

But why? She had no reason to lie. Granted, her telling him that was random and completely out of left field but that was just how her mind operated sometimes. She'd get an idea in her head and sometimes it just came out.

Besides, she had wanted to tell him. Ever since she had confided in him about her sister-and she was still surprised she had done that-she had felt closer to him. She had thought he'd felt the same way. He had told her about his childhood and being the victim of bullying, after all. After last night she had assumed, foolishly it seemed, that they had reached some common ground; that they had grown closer.

She shook her head and smirked to herself. Clearly that it been one sided. No matter what, he was keeping his walls up.

She just wished she knew why.

Ali heard noises coming from the other room and she looked up to see Sheamus returning. He was wearing jeans, zipped but unbuttoned, the denim riding low on his hips.

Her eyes locked in on his abs, still glistening a little from his shower, and she silently began to count them. His body was so beautiful, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

He seemed oblivious to her staring, his eyes narrowed in thought or brooding, as he stalked around the room and gathered his things, roughly shoving them in his bag. He grabbed a shirt, pulling it over his head and Ali at last turned away to gather her own bag.

As she slipped it onto her shoulder and turned back around she found him lacing up his shoes, almost ready to go.

He finished getting dressed and heaved his bag onto his shoulder, turning to her. His features were guarded, his eyes dark. His entire presence screamed 'Don't talk to me' so she remained silent.

The Irishman didn't say a word as he turned and made his way out of the locker room and through the corridors. Ali had to hurry to keep up with him, the assistant glaring at the back of his head.

It wasn't long until they reached the tour bus, Sheamus climbing aboard and storming back to his bedroom.

Anthony watched after him before turning to Ali with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't ask." the young woman sighed as she also climbed aboard.

"Wouldn't dream of it." the driver grinned as he slipped onto the bus and got it ready to leave.

Ali tossed her bag onto the other bunk before wandering over to her laptop, which was still sitting on the kitchen table. She took her seat with a huff and turned it on, going online.

After an hour of surfing she eventually found herself on , looking at videos from pervious shows.

While she watched Sheamus came out of his bedroom and headed for the fridge, digging through it for something to eat.

As he rooted around he glanced over and spied what she had on the screen. He slowly closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed, as he watched the camera pan the crowd. He could see a few of the kids in the audience dressed like him: spiky red hair, fake red beards, one of his shirts and even homemade Celtic crosses around their necks.

His feet, almost of their own volition, carried him over to her chair and he leaned forward.

Ali started, surprised to find him behind her. She took in his narrowed gaze, constricted eyes locked on the monitor. She followed it, realizing what he was looking at.

"They really went all out." she tried to break the ice.

"Hmm." he grunted before muttering with a cold smile, "Should've added white paint. Can' mock me properly wit'out it."

Ali blinked and turned to him, 'Sheamus, they're not mocking you."

"Oh no?" he arched an eyebrow at her as he straightened, "Then what would you call it, Ahlina?"

"They want to be like you." she waved her hand towards the screen, going on when he scoffed, "They want to emulate you. You should be flattered, not angry."

At first he didn't believe her but then there he was, coming out onto the ramp, beating his chest and bellowing. The camera again cut to the audience and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw the kids doing the same.

"Ah don' know why they'd wanna be like me." he muttered as he gave her his back and returned to the fridge.

She slid out of the seat and approached, leaning against the counter, "Maybe because they see a strong, determined man. A man who doesn't back down from a challenge. A man who fights."

He slowly closed the door and turned to her, brows knit. She stared up at him pensively but didn't back down.

"And while I don't agree with a lot of the things you've done, tonight being one of them," she went on when his eyes darkened, "I can definitely see why they'd want to be like you. You never give up."

Sheamus turned away and chuckled humorlessly, "You make me sound like yer bleedin' Cena."

Ali grabbed his arm to halt his retreat and he turned back to her, face guarded, "I wouldn't presume to do that. But you do have one thing in common: You're both very strong-minded. You keep fighting. I admire that in him and I admire that in you.

"I watched you last night." her tone grew soft as she slowly let her hand slip from his arm, "I watched you and John beat the hell out of one another. But no matter what he did to you, you kept coming back. You wouldn't quit. That is what those kids see in you."

She took a step back and sighed, not sure if her words held any clout with him. She turned and started to go back to her seat.

Sheamus watched after her for a few moments, not sure what to say or even think about what she said. He was truly at a loss.

Finally he took a few steps back and headed towards his bedroom, calling over his shoulder, "Oíche maith, Ahlina."
"Why don't you ever call me 'Ali'?" she asked as he started to walk away, "Everyone else does."

He turned back to her, smirking, "Ah'm not everyone else."

"True." Ali admitted with a smile, "But you know. . .you can call me that if you want. You don't have to call me 'Alina'."

Sheamus leaned against the kitchen counter and regarded her thoughtfully, "Do you know what yer name means?"

"Well, yeah." the assistant shrugged with a small laugh, "It is my name. I mean, it means a lot of things."

Sheamus straightened and murmured, poignant, "In Ireland it means 'beautiful'."

Ali blinked, her face reddening as she glanced down at her hands, "I-I know."

"So there ya go."

She looked up at him, confused, "There I go?"

"Ah answered yer question." he couldn't help but add, "Sweetness."

And with that he turned and walked back to his bedroom.

Ali watched after him, thoughtful. How was it that he could be so cavalier and harsh one moment and then so gentle and. . .charming the next?

She pushed the thoughts aside and returned to her laptop, bringing up the file that housed her story. The writer leaned back in her seat and went over the last few pages she had written.

Things weren't going so well for her hero and heroine. The heroine was trying to break through the hero's walls but he was fighting her tooth and nail. He had so much resentment and bitterness stored inside of him. It made his distrustful and leery.

And no matter what the heroine said or did, the hero kept her at arm's length emotionally.

Now physically. . .A tiny smile came to her lips. He definitely wasn't keeping her at arm's length in that department. In fact, he couldn't seem to get enough of her. And vice versa. There was heat between them, what with smoldering looks and little touches. It wouldn't be long before they finally gave in to their desires.

Ali took a deep breath as she got to the place where she had left off.

Hero and heroine had just had a fight, something they seemed to do quite often. He was now glaring down at her-he towered over her imposingly. He raked his hands through his hair, gripping at his locks tightly. His mouth was a slash, which was his usual expression when a smirk wasn't tugging at his lips.

Suddenly she paused, fingers hovering above the keys.

Oh no.

Oh, she hadn't. . .

Ali blinked, realization hitting her. Why had she not noticed until now? Sheamus. She had patterned her hero after him.

The assistant's hand came to her throat, her eyes widening as her mind began to race.

Why had she. . .? When had she. . .?

Had her hero always been based on him? Was he right when he had claimed he was her inspiration? Or had he slipped in when she least expected it?

She began to go back through the story, from the beginning, rereading what she had written. As she did so recognition came to her. He was there. Right from the beginning.

She felt herself laughing weakly. Dear God, he had been right. He was her inspiration.

Well there was no way she was going to tell him that. There was no telling how he'd react.

Her stomach rumbled, bringing her out of her thoughts. She closed out the program and started to rise from her seat when an error message popped up on the screen. Ali's eye narrowed in confusion as she slowly sat back down and X-ed out of the message.

Out of curiosity she tried to bring her file back up but the message came back.

Ali's eyes widened and she breathed, "No."

She tried to open the file and there came the message again.

"No." the words tumbled out of her mouth as she tried again and again to open the file, "No, no, no. Please, no."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She opened her eyes and restarted the laptop, her heart racing as she waiting for it to reboot.

Once it had she tried to open the file again. And, again, nothing.

"No!" she cried out, tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "Please no!"

This couldn't be happening. After so many months of nothing she had finally started writing again. And now it might all be lost. No. No!

Sheamus heard her cries of panic and he hurried out there, alarmed, "What's wrong?"

She turned to face him and he noticed the tears in her eyes. Something instantly twisted in his guts and he went to her, cupping her face and tilting it up to look into her eyes.

"My story!" Ali told him, voice shaking, "There was an error message a-and I tried to get back into it but it won't let me back into the file."

His eyes began to narrow in annoyance. That was the problem? An error on her laptop? Jaysus, with the way she was carrying on he thought she had hurt herself.

She saw his reaction and she pulled way, angry and distressed, "You don't understand! It may be stupid to you and you might think I'm overreacting but this-"

She pointed back at her laptop, "It's all I've ever wanted to do. My writing i-is a part of me. It's. . ."

She sighed, bowing her head, "Everything that I am, I put into it. It's my life."

He stared down at her; seeing as she wiped at her eyes, listened as she sniffled. She was trying so hard to put on a brave face but he could see just how upset she was.

"All right." he sighed as he reluctantly released her and turned to the laptop, "Let me see what Ah can do."

Ali's head snapped up, "What you can do?"

He turned back to her, silently daring her to say something.

She sighed and motioned towards her laptop, "Please, if you can do anything. . .Just please."

He nodded before taking a seat and turning his attention to the laptop. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her sink onto the couch and lean forward, head in her hands. Seeing her that distraught once again called forth that unknown emotion deep inside him.

He forced it down as he once again regarded the computer. He began to go through a series of keystrokes, trying to bring up the file. He read the error message, wheels in his mind turning, before trying another series of strokes.

Ali looked up and watched with baited breath. If he couldn't fix it, if her story was lost, she didn't know what she would do. . .

After what seemed like hours, but was actually only about twenty-five to thirty minutes, he finally leaned back in his seat and turned the laptop around so that she could see it. There it was, her story.

She closed her eyes and issued a shaky sigh, features filled with a myriad of sentiments. Sheamus' stomach clenched at the sight of it. She looked so relieved, so happy, that it made him feel good.

As soon as he stood up she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and burying her face against his chest.

"Thank you." she breathed, voice thick with emotion, "Thank you so much, Sheamus. Thank you."

He stared down at her, arms frozen at his sides. He expected the 'thank you' but the hug, that was definitely something he hadn't predicted.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her arms around him. She was so warm and her body felt so soft against his own. As tightly as she was holding him he could feel her breasts pressed against his stomach and it caused his groin to stir.

Knowing that was the signal to stop this, he grudgingly untangled her arms from around him and stepped away. She looked up at him in surprise but remained silent.

"It's all right." he said gruffly, eyes cast to the floor, "Just next time you cry out like that, make sure yer actually in trouble."

"Oh. . .Yes. Yes, of course." she nodded and looked at her feet, "Sorry for worrying you."

"S'all right, lass." he gave her one last look before turning and walking back into his bedroom.

She followed after him with her eyes, a slight frown on her lips. Slowly, she turned and took a seat at the table, closing out the file. Just for safe measure she tried to get back into it again. It came back up effortlessly.

Ali turned in her seat, eyes narrowed in bewilderment. How in the world did he do that?

She bit her lip, contemplating. She owed him. A lot. More than he would ever know. She wasn't lying when she told him her writing was her life. It was. It meant so much to her.

She gradually wheeled back around in her chair. Here he had done so many kind things for her. Not just with her laptop tonight but also when she had been sick. She wanted to do something for him. To show him how much she appreciated everything he did for her.

How much he meant to her. Because he did. She was just starting to realize just how much,.

But what could she do? It had to be something special. Something that would mean a lot to him. . .

She rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, digging around the fridge for something to eat. While she did that ideas began to come to her. . .

.

.

.

.

.

Sheamus stood on the set for the photo shoot for WWE's magazine that next afternoon. He watched on with narrowed eyes as the photographer and his crew checked the lighting for the twentieth time and it was all he could do not to growl.

He didn't want to be standing there, acting like a puppet to these eejits. Look this way. Look that way. Look up. Look down. Smile. Don't smile.

He took off his flat cap, scratching his head. And if he had to go change his clothes one more time. . .

"That one was good." the photographer, Greg or Gray or Gary, whatever the hell his name was, announced in a detached voice as he went through the shots on his camera, "But let's do a costume chance and, maybe, come back with a little more energy."

Sheamus did growl then. The fella wanted energy? He'd give him plenty of energy when he Brogue Kicked him in the face.

The photographer heard the rumble come up from the wrestler's throat and he slowly backed away, eyes wide.

"Um, w-why don-don't we take a ten." he replied with a hopeful smile, "Okay, Sheamus?"

The Irishman glowered at him but remained silent as he stalked across the room and stormed into his dressing room, slamming the door closed behind him.

As he began to jerk the buttons open on his shirt he snarled, "If that muppet tells me one more time to smile Ah'm goin' to break his bleedin' camera over his head!"

He received no answer from his assistant. But considering the type of mood he was in, he wouldn't have heard it or cared anyway.

"Expectin' me to prance around like Ah was Cena or somethin'." he yanked the shirt off of his shoulders, tossing it onto a nearby chair, before reaching for another one, "Smilin' and playing the WWE poster boy for them.

"Ah didn' even want to do this in the first place." he growled as he yanked the shirt on over his head and reached for his vest, "Ah hate gettin' me picture taken as it is."

Ali, who was lounging on the couch and reading a copy of Writer's Digest, murmured absently, "Come on, Sheamus, you know you're gorgeous."

She paused, her eyes beginning to widen. Oh crap! Had she actually said that out loud?

She slowly lifted her head and looked up at him. He was staring at her, gaze narrowed slightly.

She started to feel uncomfortable over his expression and began to fidget in her seat, stammering, "Wh-what? You. . .you know . . .you're always going on about your beautiful Irish skin!"

He continued to stare at her, his mind going a mile a minute. He wanted to believe her. Jaysus, he wanted so much to believe her. To think she could find a fella like him gorgeous. Not nice looking. Not handsome. Gorgeous.

But he couldn't. Deep down inside he just couldn't believe her. Countless years of insults wouldn't allow him to. It was like she had said the other night: when you're told something enough you start to believe it.

And he still believed the taunts he had received as a lad. Knew them to be true.

Bitterness, deep seeded and living inside him for thirty-some years, came rushing to the forefront. A dark voice in his head whispered all of his insecurities to him, like the hiss of a snake.

She doesn' mean it, he told himself angrily, She's just tryin' to placate you. Get on yer good side. Just like when she lied about yer eyes last night.

Ali watches his face darken and discontent came over her. She slowly closed the magazine and sat it down before rising from the couch. She took a step back and then another when he took a step towards her.

"If you think you can try and flatter me so Ah'll let you go will work," he warned, voice low and dark, "Then think again. Because you can' sweet talk yer way out of this. Yer gonna stay mine until Ah decide to let you go."

Ali gaped up at him. Did she honestly just hear him correctly? Did he honestly think that was why she was complimenting him?

"I wouldn't-" she started to defend herself when he cut her off with a cold laugh, the sound causing her to flinch.

"Sure you wouldn', lass." he nodded with mocking sympathy, not believing her for a moment, "The timin' of your compliments is just a coincidence, right? It has nothing to do with the fact that yer man, Cena, just lost to me. Again."

Hurt and anger flared up inside her, causing her own eyes to constrict. She actually began to shake with the emotions raging through her system.

"Why does everything have to be one step forward and three steps back with you?" she demanded, going on before he had a chance to speak, "Just when things are starting to go well; just when I actually start to think you have a heart and are human you turn around and do something like this. Why? Why do you have to be so suspicious of everything I say or do?"

Now it was she who was advancing on him, "What's it going to take to prove to you that I'm not the bad guy? Haven't I said and done enough by now? Don't you know me by now?"

She turned away for an instant, taking a deep breath before going back to him, "You're going to have to trust someone in this life sometime, Sheamus. I was really hoping it would be me, but clearly you can't allow yourself to do that."

She spun around and began to march off with him staring after her in disbelief.

"Oh, and one more thing." Ali spun back around and added, hands on her hips, "I never say anything I don't mean. And if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous then I mean it. Because you are. In fact you're more than that. You're beautiful."

Sheamus regarded her in surprise but didn't get a chance to respond because she went on, "Maybe if you'd realize that and get rid of that chip on your shoulder you'd be better off."

He watched as she stormed off, leaving the room with a slam of the door. He looked away, raking his hands through his hair as he struggled to contain his own rampant emotions.

He wanted to go after her. Grab her and demand to know what she was playing at. She didn't find him attractive. She couldn't! She was doing this as a way to earn her freedom.

Wasn't she?

He looked to the door, face and body growing warm. What he really wanted to do was grab her and pull her back in there, lock the door and having his way with her.

The sensations warred inside of him as he shot across the room and threw the door open. Eyes wide and wild he went out into the studio and looked around, trying to spot her. But she was nowhere to be seen.

He did spot Anthony, though, who was lounging by the refreshment table and enjoying a cup of coffee. As he advanced on him the driver noticed and promptly straightened, giving him his full attention.

"Where is he?" Sheamus demanded as he searched the room, "Where's Ahlina?"

"She, um," Anthony cleared his throat, obviously nervous, "She said she needed to go out and get some air. She told me she was going for a walk and then going back to the bus."

The hell she was. They weren't finished yet.

The Irishman started to leave the studio when Gary/Grey/Greg hurried over to him.

"We're ready whenever you are, Sheamus." the photographer told him with a bright smile.

"Not now." the Celtic Warrior practically growled as he continued on,

"Okay, but if you don't finish up now the shoot will have to be scrapped." the man protested.

"Do Ah look like Ah care, fella?" Sheamus questioned in annoyance.

"Maybe not." the photographer shrugged, nonchalant, "But I heard that Vince McMahon wanted this article finished so that the magazine can come out as soon as possible. If you want me to tell him you've decided to cancel it-"

Sheamus glowered at him, cutting off any further words from him.

Shite! McMahon was a vindictive bastard, if ever there was one. If he refused he might strip him of his title. Maybe even send him back to FCW as punishment. He certainly wouldn't put it passed the old man.

His eyes once again went to the door and he considered his options. She was just going for a walk, after all. And then she was going back to the bus. He'd see her soon enough.

Besides, he knew she needed time to calm down. Not to mention that he needed time to process what she had said to him.

Knowing he had no choice, the Irishman turned and followed the photographer back over to the shoot.

One thing was for certain. They weren't finished yet.

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Ugh. Sorry, y'all, I know this update sucked. I'm just not feeling this chapter. :(

Hopefully I can do better next time. :/