Becky was looking at the ground, title around her waist as she paced. Dean was sitting there squinting at the laptop as he read the latest wrestling news site. She nervously continued to pace while she pulled a small lock of her hair and began to braid and unbraid it, her mind whirling. She felt like she wanted to scream, but at the same time like she wanted to crawl into her bed at home and never come out.

The latest wrestling news sources were saying Kevin Dunn, the vice president of television production, was going to cut her promo time because he didn't like her accent. Seriously, what the fuck? This was not cool at all, and Becky didn't get it. She was the champion, she deserved and worked hard to even get time on the mic and they were cutting it even more? What was she gonna do? She pulled her hair in frustration. How was she supposed to connect with the fans if she couldn't talk to them?

Dean placed the laptop down and stood. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "So… what's the big deal?"

Becky stopped and leveled a glare at him. "What do you think is wrong!? I'm gonna get my promo time cut! This is awful!"

Dean stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders, stopping her pacing and turning her to face him fully. "Irish, you're spiraling, you need to calm down."

"Your promo time isn't getting cut cause you don't have a stupid accent!" She was about to continue her rant, but Dean's face went from calm to livid.

"Stop that." He said commandingly, and her mouth snapped shut. "Becky, your accent is endearing and cute. It is not stupid, and you certainly aren't stupid."

Becky felt herself blush over his praise, just a little bit. Her accent had been her biggest insecurity since joining the WWE and this simply brought those demons that she thought she put into the past back up to the surface.

She gave Dean a tiny nod. "Thanks. But still, I'm getting my promo time cut."

Dean shrugged, "So make your own."

Becky frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. "Just grab a mic?"

Dean shook his head, laughing. "No, calm down there CM Punk. You're loud, I don't know if you know that." Becky gave him a playful swat on his chest, but he continued. "You can talk to the fans when you're in the ring. Just be loud and they love you so they'll listen."

Becky hadn't considered that. The fans did cheer for her a lot, and she always tried to cherish any chance at meeting them she got. "You don't think they'll dislike me?"

Dean snorted, "Hate you? Irish, they love you. Plus, since this is out there, I wouldn't be surprised that there is fan backlash. People will probably be fighting for you, and they'll love you even more. Plus, you've got twitter to communicate with your fans, you'll be just fine."

Becky sighed and slumped into Dean's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and started moving his thumb in a comforting gesture on her back that she really appreciated. "Thank you."

"Always, Irish. Always."