Chapter Two

Settling herself in her seat next to John, Molly sighed. She really didn't know the man sitting next to her all that well. Hell, if she was honest with herself she'd actually forgotten his name when she first saw him today in the airport. She was grateful of his kindness though. She simply had to get home tonight or she'd have a very disappointed someone waiting when she finally did make it home. She turned, preparing to thank John once again for his generosity. He was engaged in a friendly argument with Chris Jericho over who was going to the NBA playoff's this year, so she shrugged to herself and looked around for something to read. Spotting the book John had been reading earlier, Molly picked it up and quickly thumbed through it.

"Heinlein's one of my favorites." John said. Molly looked up to see him watching her through partially closed lids. His head was leaned back against the seat and he looked like he was ready for a nap. Molly smiled.

"I don't think I've ever read any of his work." She shrugged. "I read more along the lines of Nora Roberts." John wrinkled his nose with distaste.

"That romance or somethin'?" Molly smiled.

"Or somethin'. She writes a little of everything into her stories." She handed him back his book, but he waved it away.

"Take it. I've got two or three more copies at home." He was trying to examine the diva without her thinking he was rude. He'd never really been around Molly much. Oh, sure, he'd said 'Hi' a few times in the hall and stuff. But he'd never really had a conversation with her. John took in her hair: Dark brown with a lighter color shooting through it. Her eyes were the color of the sea after a storm and her lips had the perfect cupid's bow, just right for kissing. If I'm thinking like that about this broad already, then I need to get laid! "You look like you could use something to do on the flight home." Molly flashed him another one of her brilliant smiles and laid the book on her lap.

"Speaking of which, I wanna thank you again, John, for giving me this ticket. It's imperative that I get home by tonight." John watched her eyes light up as she spoke and figured she must have a lover waiting for her. Well, at least somebody's gonna be gettin' some, John throught wryly. Knowing they had a good 4 hours before reaching Detroit, John sat back,trying to get comfortable in the too-small seat.

"So, what's so important that you have to be home tonight?"Molly turned and pressed her face against the window, pointing.

"Oh, look! Isn't it pretty?" John leaned over the petite brunette to get a better view of what she was pointing at. He breathed deeply and took in her smell -- a surprising combination of lavendar and something citrusy. John peered curiously out the window.

"What? What's so pretty?" Molly turned and found herself face to face with him. He was so close, she could feel his warm breath on her face and when she breathed deeply, she smelled the Paul Sebastian cologne he had put on earlier. She swallowed hard, resisting the overwhelming urge to bury her face in his neck and just breath in his smell. she was shocked at the things that were going through her mind. She hadn't felt like this in years. "I-I've never seen the view from a plane before.", she stuttered sounding ,unbeknownst to her, a little breathless. John looked at her, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"You've been wrestling for how long? And you've never looked out of an airplane window?" Molly nodded, turning to once again look out the window.

"When I first started, generally I was too tired to worry about looking at scenery. After that, well...everyone I ever sat with had to have the window seat." She laughed nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, that and I'm not overly fond of heights." John looked down at Molly's lips, noticing how soft they looked and how close she was. Unconsciously, John licked his lips, wondering how hers would taste. Okay, that's it...no more thinking about Molly like that, John scolded himself. Sitting back in the seat, he once again closed his eyes. Molly let a huge gust of breath---Where had all that tension come from? she wondered to herself. Oh well. It didn't really matter, so long as it got John off the question he kept throwing at her.

"So you don't like heights?" Molly shook herself out of her reverie at John's question. She shrugged and leaned her head back as well, feeling the making's of a migraine coming on.

"Nah. When I was 6 my grandparents took me to Tennessee to Ruby Falls. Ruby Falls is an..." John held up a hand, interupting her.

"I know what it is." She blushed.

"Anyway, there's a bridge there called the "Swing-A-Long Bridge". " Molly shuddered, remembering the terrifying height of the rope bridge. "My grandfather is a tall man. He's about 6'3", give or take an inch. He put me up on his shoulders and proceeded to run across the bridge." John looked at her with ill disguised humor in his eyes. She frowned. So he thought that was funny, huh? Well, what a jackass, she thought turning away from him abruptly. Why did I ever think he was attractive? "I've been terrified of heights ever since. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rest my eyes for a while." She closed her eyes, effectivley cutting off the words he was about to say.

John's eyes narrowed as he took in her delicate profile. She sure knew how to confuse a person. One minute she's all nice, the next she's abrupt to the point of bitchiness. John sighed and closed his own eyes. He'd stayed out way too late the night before with Edge and Christian. He decided to catch some sleep on the way home. Maybe then, when he got there he'd call up some old friends and go out partying. Maybe they can hook me up with someone to ...help...my problem., was his last thought as he slipped quietly into dreamland.

He was rudely awakened by someone shoving past him to get to the aisle. He sat up too fast and immediately got a head rush. Waiting for the buzzing in his ears to stop, he glanced around and looked down the aisle in time to see the bathroom door close behind Molly. John yawned, stretching as he waited for Molly to return so that he could go back to sleep. After ten minutes passed, and Molly still hadn't left the bathroom, John decided to see what was taking so long. Getting up, he made his way between the rows of seats, finally reaching the bathroom door. He knocked.

"Molly?"

No response.

"Molly?!"

Nothing.

"Molly, come on, I know you're in there. What's taking so long?" After still not hearing a single sound come from the room, John decided that some really was wrong. Taking a step back, he swiftly kicked the door in, immediately drawing the attention of the passengers and stewardesses.

Molly sat slumped over the toilet in the tiny cubbyhole that passed for a bathroom on the plane., John reached over and gently lifted her head. He was taken by surprise at the complete lack of color in her face. She looked as though she were in intense pain. "Hey. What's wrong?"

Molly's eyes opened only a fraction and looked at John. "Migraine." She whispered. John immediately understood. He'd seen his dad get these kind of headache's and it wasn't a pretty sight. He gingerly slid one arm underneath her legs and placed the other one around her middle, lifting her off of the floor and carrying her back to their seats. As soon as he sat her down, John turned to the nearest flight attendant, only one of which had hovered around him since he kicked in the bathroom door.

"Do you think we could get a cold rag and a...uh... air sickness bag?" he asked the short redhead. Her nametag read "Heather" and she looked at him with more than a bit of distrust in her eyes. "Please?" He flashed one of those signature John Cena smiles, and the girl was all but jello at his feet.

"Okay, I can do that. Is she gonna be alright?" John glanced down at the pained look on Molly's face.

"Yeah. She'll be fine."

The girl made her way down the aisle, reassuring passengers that he wasn't some crazed terrorist. John sat down quietly next to Molly, reaching over to take her hand in his. "Molly? Hun, can you open your eyes for me?" Molly's eyes opened slightly, causing her to whimper at the offense light.

"John---this one's--r-really bad." she whispered hoarsely. She tried to sit up and just as the stewardess returned with the air-sickness bags, Molly reached for one emptying her stomach of it's contents. John smiled up at the white faced stewardess and said a quiet 'Thank You'. She nodded and quickly left, not able to get away from Molly fast enough. John pulled her hair back and laid one of the cold wet rags the woman had brought them, across her neck. She jumped at the sudden coldness, but slowly relaxed into it. She leaned back against the seat and rolled her head to the side.

"I'm sorry. I can move if--" John shushed her with a wave of his hand.

"No, you're staying right here. You don't need to be by yourself right now." Molly nodded, and closed her eyes, immediately falling into a light sleep. John sat staring at the petite brunette. She really was a fairly attractive woman, even sick. Her thick dark lashes lay agasint her pale cheeks, making her seem very vulnerable. John snorted. Yeah, she's real vulnerable. All vulnerable people I know narrowly escape going to jail for a plane ticket. Shaking his head, he reached over to pick up his book from where it had fallen out of Molly's lap earlier. Forty-five minutes. Then he'd be able to leave her with the reason she came to Detroit and be on his way.