:Cast of charicters: Even though there are no names named, This story does in fact feature The undertaker, and a fictional character based off my dear friend for her birthday.

:Authers notes: I hope you enjoy this story, as much as i did writing it.

:Disclaimer: Even though his name is not mentioned, to cover my ass I says this: I do not under any circumstances own the Undertaker...(what a cryin shame...)

:Distribution: Ask me first please. No stealing! Grrr! LOL


He was the type of guy that it didn't matter what he did he always seemed cool. He was the guy that she spent countless days standing in front of her mirror making sure she looked her best. Every Friday night she'd rush home from work and get dressed up for him, finding the perfect outfit, then rushing out the door to meet him at the same old beat up juke joint standing by the Whurlitzer jukebox smoking his funny smelling cigars, and sipping whiskey. Every Friday he'd be there, and she'd smile spotting him. However she could never bring herself to even say hello, but tonight was different. She was going to go over to the jukebox and play the song he always played, a song she felt in her core was his song for her. She was going to go and sit at the bar as she usually did, and wait for him to make his move to the jukebox and she walk over and play number two on the dial.

She sat outside the bar playing it through in her head, she'd walk in and get her drink, and wait for him to start toward the jukebox, she'd play the song, and she'd have her chance to talk to him. She rehearsed it in over and over again in her head, what she'd say, how she'd act. What he'd say. She thought back to the first time she saw him there; her car had broken down, down the street, and she walked there in the rain in search of a phone. She saw him that night and ended up staying until close in spite of the fact that he never said a word to her. It was his eyes that drew her back time and time again. They were a dark emerald color that caught her breath still in her chest. He locked eyes with her through the smoky bar, beckoning her return. Those eyes are what drove her. Sighing she pulled her long red hair into a pony tail taking one last look in the mirror, she smiled seeing everything was perfect.

"Here goes nothing." She thought stepping out of her car and slowly walking into the bar and taking her spot at the end of the bar. She watched as the grizzled old bartender busied himself pouring a double shot of Jack Daniels on the rocks, and setting out two rows of quarters next to it. At ten o'clock on the mark as usual he walked in the bar and set some bills down on the counter retrieving his drink and quarters, then over to his spot in the back next to the beat up pool table where the jukebox was. He walked with a heavy cadence, even that sent a chill down her spin driving her to know this man that much more.

"What can I get cha?" The bartender said snapping her abruptly from her momentary trance.

"Yeah, I'll have a beer. " She said simply never moving her eyes from the tall man who brought her there every week. The bartender nodded and slid the beer to her then went about wiping down the bar.

Then it was time for her to make her move. She stood with confidence adjusting the straps to he tight black tank top as she walked. With out hesitation she walked to the jukebox clunking several quarters in. She let out a feeble grunt slamming her hand against the coin return.

"Stupid piece of crap." She mumbled. "Hey your machine stole my money." She called to the bartender not even grabbing his attention. Deflated she jammed her hand in her pocket pulling out a hand full of wadded up bills and several dimes and pennies.

"Excuse me." A deep resonating voice shot through her as a large tattoo covered arm stretched past her and shook the machine gently setting her change free.

"Th...Thank you." She said softly as he recovered the quarters and put them in again.

"Which song?" He asked smiling slightly at her.

"Nu…Number two." She said never taking her deep brown eyes away from his.

"Hmm Good taste, you like Janis Joplin?" He asked as "Take a piece of my heart" started to play.

"Yeah, this is my song." She said smiling slightly as her nerves started to unwind. She watched as he finished the last of his drink and set it down on a table then he walked a few steps away from her.

"Come here." He smiled genuinely taking her hand and leading her to the middle of the room.

He pulled her close to him as he started to move resting his hands gently on her hips as they began to dance. Her head reeled as she took in the smell of his skin. He smelled the smell of a man who spent an entire day fixing his car, clean sweat and the fain hint of his cigars.

She felt like screaming on the inside. Here she was dancing with a man she had only hoped to say hello to, now she found herself in his arms. He had a firm yet gentle hold never taking the gaze of his impeccable green eyes away from her. Then as the song came to its end he pulled her into kiss that made her float. She felt the walls and floor drop out there she was alone with him, for all that mattered in that moment it was just her and him, but as soon as it came, it was gone as he pulled away. She stood alone in the middle of the room holding on to the feeling of his tender lips remembering the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way it felt to be held by him.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" The bartender said shaking her from her revelry.

"Wha...yeah, I'm sorry." She said looking around the room a realizing he was gone.

"Are you okay?" He asked again.

"Yeah...I'm really good actually." She said scratching her head as she made her way to the exit.

"See you next week?" He asked as she pulled open the door.

"Actually… No." She said simply then continued out into the night with a new sense of self and confidence.

THE END…