AN: I apologize for not updating sooner! It's been pretty hectic since we got back from vacation, and discovering a new fandom doesn't really help the cause. But I found some time to type this up and hopefully elaborate. Here's the product.

Chapter 7

John Cena lay splayed across the couch in his locker room with Maria, his on-screen girlfriend, contentedly nestled between his legs. One stretched the length of the couch and his other foot rested on the floor. It was a few hours before RAW was set to begin, and the pair was discussing what they planned to do that night.

"Do I have to be ditzy tonight?" Maria asked her on-screen lover and off-screen friend. She sat up from her previous position, looking at him with pleading eyes.

John, thinking of their characters on screen and of the girl's personality off screen, decided that it would probably be ok to allow the girl a minor flub instead of a majorly idiotic moment onscreen. "How about you just mess up my name or something? A sort of throwback to when you messed up Adam's name that one time. You could say 'Jason' instead of 'John.'" He said, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers.

She opted not to straighten her hair today, he noticed. The scent of jasmine wafted its way to his nose, but as badly as he wanted to nuzzle her soft curls, he could not. He should not. He would not, he resolved.

She leaned back again, resuming her position on his chest, enjoying the comfort. "Oh!" she began excitedly. "You could say something like 'You don't forget my name in bed.'" She giggled. It was not often that she had the opportunity to contribute her ideas to further the storyline.

"Not a bad idea, Ria," John nodded. "When I say that, can I cop a feel too?" He smiled when she slapped his hand away from doing anything inappropriate.

"Silly John," she began condescendingly. "You act like we're together outside of the ring, too."

He paused for a moment before beginning once again. "So is that a yes?"

Maria turned to look at him, her face scrunched in thought. She gave in, sighing, "Yes."

"Woohoo!" John exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air like he was Homer Simpson. He looked back down at her and realized her silence and unnatural passivity. "You didn't put up a fight. What's wrong?" Her usual fiery nature had disappeared, and he felt the need to search for the wildcat he slowly fell in love with.

"Just…" Maria sighed before resuming her explanation, "He thinks what we're doing for the camera, we're also doing on the road. He questions your motives all the time. I think he's jealous." She concluded uncertainly.

"Well who wouldn't be?" John asserted. Maria sharply turned to face him, a question marring her features. "I get to work with the most beautiful girl backstage," he said, stroking her hair.

"John," she sing-songed. While playfulness crept its way into her voice, her demeanor quickly reverted to its despondency. "He doesn't believe me though. I tell him just about every day. It's just a storyline. We're just friends."

"Don't worry, baby girl," John reassured her. Though it pained him inwardly to utter his next words, he mustered the courage to do so. "CM Punk should only worry if there's something to worry about. And since we're just friends, there's no problem, right?" Just friends, he thought to himself. Back at square one.

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied.

"Yeah," he emphasized. Though I wish we were more.

For some reason unknown to the pair, RAW seemed unbearably tiring that night. So, as they walked tiredly to the near-empty parking lot, exhaustion was teasing their eyelids and bodies with sleep. John popped the trunk and lazily threw his duffel into it; Maria's bag soon followed. Shelton was at home taking care of his sick mother. Even though he didn't join them that night, Maria and John decided against another traveling buddy.

John took the seat behind the wheel. Before he could start the car, his eyes closed for longer than a blink, sleep seemingly taking over. He was jolted awake by Maria, who slapped his arm fiercely.

"Wake up, John," she yawned. "We gotta get to the hotel first."

Maria was right, he realized. As tired as they both were, he needed to stay awake long enough to get them to the hotel safely.

"Alrighty, then, but you have to keep me awake," he responded as he backed out of the parking space.

"Deal. What would you like to talk about this fine night, then? Love? Money? Fame? Anything."

"Movies. I finally saw Troy the other day when I was chillin' in the hotel room."

He was interrupted before he could elaborate more on the subject. "Troy! Ohmigod, it was so sad when Garrett Hedlund died!"

A chuckle passed his lips, "I thought you'd be sadder because of Brad Pitt's death, but okay. Whatever floats your boat."

"Oh, but that was the saddest part! When he was sent his soldiers home and went with the others to burn Troy just so he could find Briseis and take her away with him! Then that asshole Paris who started the whole war in the first place had to kill him when he was saving Briseis. They were perfect," she ended sadly.

He sighed and shook his head, "I should have known. At least Achilles died before he got sappier."

"He was a warrior! He couldn't be sappy even if he tried. The sappiest he got was when he said, 'You gave me peace in a lifetime of war,'" Maria paused. "Achilles told her that everything was more beautiful because mortals were doomed. For him and Briseis, love was more beautiful because theirs was doomed." She ended with a contented sigh.

"Oh. My. God," John deadpanned. "You just took a kick-ass war movie and turned it into the sappiest drama ever." Maria didn't respond, so he continued, "I mean, did you see Brad Pitt? Within the first ten minutes, he killed a guy that reminds me of Big Show with one stab. Amazing. And all his fighting scenes? He was swift like the mongoose. He murdered like no other—a shank here, headshot there. The best fight scene was the one with Hector. Pretty much awesome."

Maria still didn't respond. "Ria?" He looked over at the passenger seat, only to see the sleeping form of the gray-eyed Diva. The sight made him smile to himself.

Not long after, John arrived at the hotel. He woke her up long enough to half-carry her to the night check in desk. As he confirmed their room, she fell asleep again, her head nestled on his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. A murmured "John?" slipped from her lips.

He rubbed her side as he signed some papers, murmuring, "It's ok, baby girl."

He carried her to their room, coercing a sleepy bagboy to follow them with their bags.

They arrived at the room, and he moved to set her on the bed. But, she wouldn't let go. Instead of fighting her strong grip, he crawled into bed next to her. She unconsciously snaked an arm up his chest.

John slept with much difficulty that night.

AN: If you couldn't tell, my new fandom is Troy; the pairing is Achilles/Briseis. I can't seem to get enough of them, much like I can't seem to get enough of doomed lovers. I hope this lived up to my style and caliber. The next chapter should be up soon, I hope. Read, review, love—Kiora Storm.