Chapter 4

Later that night, after a few hours calming herself down and taking a cold shower, Macaria was back to herself and followed Aya inside the arena to meet up with Dean. They stood outside a room labeled DEAN AMBROSE in black bold print and Aya knocked before walking inside. Macaria tried not to let her eyes move to Dean, but it was hard considering he was currently doing pushups on his FINGERTIPS. Holy fuck that was hot, she thought, swallowing hard with her hair once again braided over her shoulder. It was the simplest style to go with being a photographer and all. She was dressed in black dress pants and an emerald long sleeved top since it was cold outside, having to follow the WWE's dress code, according to Aya. It made them look more professional. Nothing showed though, not even a hint of cleavage and once again her face was devoid of makeup, unlike Aya.

Damn but he was good-looking; Aya motioned for Macaria to get out her camera and do what she was being paid: take some damn pictures! That camera should have been out the moment they stepped foot in the arena, as far as she was concerned. She could have easily blended in with all the other women, who were caked in makeup, though she didn't acknowledge the fact that they needed it due to being on live television. Whereas she just had a heavy hand when it came to her airbrushing makeup.

"Is this how you prepare for a match?"

"Sometimes." He breathed through his reps.

"What else do you do?"

"Blow shit up. Watch movies." Each sentence was short, Dean was busy breathing through his exercise. "Fuck."

That last one she couldn't print and Aya completely missed the smirk he managed to shoot Macaria.

Macaria didn't miss it, wishing Dean wouldn't do that because she had a hard time focusing on anything else. No! She was a professional, damn it! She could do this. It was her time to shine and show just how talented of a photographer she was. The picture snapping began while Dean continued his reps with the pushups and Macaria could see the desire swirling through Aya's eyes. No doubt she would try to land Dean in bed. She wouldn't be the one to tell her boss he wasn't interested and thought her a shrew. Then again, maybe Dean was the same way. Macaria didn't know the man from a hole in the ground, after all. She stepped back when he finished his reps, bare from the waist up in a pair of tight-fitting blue jeans that showed just what religion he was. The temperature in the room had escalated drastically and Macaria suddenly regretted not wearing a short-sleeved top.

Once he was done with his workout, he popped up and stretched. The lighting in the room caught the sweat on his body, casting some interesting, gleaming shadows along his bare chest and down his abs. When he was done stretching, he reached for a bottle of water, locking his pale blue eyes on the women. Dean didn't break his stare as he drained the bottle, crushing it in his fist.

"So, ladies…" His head tilted to the side briefly as he studied Macaria, noting that she looked rather…flushed. "Need some cold air, babe?"

"Babe?" Aya glanced back at Macaria and then back to Dean, purple eyes narrowing.

"Babe, a generic name for a woman. You're a babe too." He clarified, almost teasingly, though pale blue was glossing into ice as he realized Aya was the type of boss to send someone, like a photographer, away if she thought they were getting in her spot of being lead. "Or a virago."

Aya had no idea what that meant, but the way he said it, it just rolled off his tongue and she smiled up at him. "Got time for a few questions?"

Dean just called her boss a shrew without the woman realizing it, using a different word Aya no doubt thought was a compliment. He was slick, she'd give him that. Why did he insist on calling her babe though? Macaria shook her head while Dean pulled out a steel folding chair for Aya while he continued pumping himself up for the event that night. The show was called Raw and it was always live on Monday nights, or so Macaria assumed.

"Just Maca or Caria, please, Dean." She requested softly, not wanting her boss getting angry for being called a babe.

Aya was full of herself, good at what she did, but had an ego the size of Mount Rushmore, possibly larger. Definitely larger. Macaria snapped a few more pictures and took a break while Aya began questioning Dean, wanting his full attention on her.

Dean knew Aya would have no problem shipping off his lovely little photographer, if she thought the other woman was in her way, so...with the interests of himself at heart, he would play Aya's little game. At least for now. He did love games, especially when there were established rules he could eventually bust all to hell. Aya was shooting off what had to be the most repetitive questions ever from some standard list of crappy journalism. If this woman was as good and established, as people liked to tell him, where the hell was the good stuff? Dean could see he was going to get bored of this really quick. Maca was going to have to be his little diversion.

"Tell me about your childhood." Aya requested, more of an order than anything. "You lived in some pretty shady places growing up. You lived in government-funded places, public housing projects, in rough neighborhoods-"

"Someone's been on Wikipedia…" He singsonged, dropping down into a metal folding chair, staring at Aya intently.

When Aya called for a break to take an important phone call, it once again left Macaria and Dean alone. This wasn't good, not after what happened earlier that day at the gym. "You know, even though she's a shrew, you could go a little easier on her." She commented, leaning against the wall sitting Indian style with her laptop, trying to upload the pictures thus far from her camera. It wasn't a smart idea to talk to this man or defend her boss, but at the end of the day, Aya signed her paychecks. If she wanted to continue having a roof over her head and food in her mouth, Macaria had to find a way to make things easier for her boss.

"If I do that, she might lose her cutting edge and best in the biz credibility." Dean remarked it so innocently, and sincerely, he almost believed himself.

He snorted when Macaria just gave him a look that informed him she could see quite clearly through the drivel he was spewing. He grinned, getting to his feet and slowly ambled towards her, proving that his painted on jeans had just enough give to stick his hands in his front pockets. Slouching slightly, his shoulders rounded as he stared down at her, wondering if she really wanted him to go easy on her boss.

"Afraid of the virago, are we?" He was staring down at her, and it was a long way down, though she didn't seem to be intimidated. Crouching down, legs apart, forearms resting on his bent knees, Dean studied her thoughtfully. "She doesn't appreciate you, so why bother, hmm?"

"I'm not afraid of anyone, especially her. I just…She's my boss and I have to do what my boss tells me if I want to get paid. If you want more in-depth questions, tell her. She's not a mind reader, even though she tries to claim it."

Not to mention, Macaria hadn't worked that long with Aya, really wishing Curtis would've joined them on this journey because at least he'd be able to keep her from breaking rules – Aya's rules. Looking up at Dean, he still towered over her even in a squatted position. Macaria wished he would put a shirt on or something to cover his bare chest because it was making the moisture pool between her legs again.

"And I bother because I love what I do for a living, just as I know you do too. I don't like her, don't respect her, but she does have one hell of a company and it's a foot in the door to get to where I really want to be. So go easier on her and…I'll owe you, I guess…" Macaria regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth.

Almost as soon as she said those magical words, Dean reached out to take her hand and shook it. "Deal." He'd do her a solid and claim a return on it, eventually, his mind already swimming with ideas. "Do you want me to go easier on you, Maca?" He then asked, his eyes hooded as he regarded her. "Or do you like it rough?" Blinking, he pushed away from her, getting back to his feet properly and looked around the room. He suddenly had a surge of energy rushing through his muscular body and more exercise was not an option. "Hey, let's go grab some chow." Without waiting for her to say yay or nay, he reached down to grab her hand and haul her to her feet, fingers threading through hers without thought.

She didn't know how to answer that easy or rough question, not knowing what he meant. It didn't matter since Macaria was being forced to go to catering with him, wondering what was going through this man's mind. They called him the Lunatic Fringe and she could see why. Dean was hyper and had small quirks about himself nobody else had, making him a very interesting character. When they arrived in catering, a few pairs of eyes turned to her and Macaria did her best to blend in with everyone, taking a plate Dean handed her while he loaded his up. This wasn't a good idea, she thought, remembering the boundaries Aya laid out for her. However, she didn't know Stephanie McMahon, one of the bosses of WWE, had laid out the same rules for Dean…somewhat.

"Wow, are you really going to eat all of that?" Macaria blurted out and immediately covered her mouth, both of them sitting down at a table a little ways from everyone else in the room.

"Uh, nope…but probably most of it, definitely like…" Dean closed one eye, surveying his loaded plate with the other. "Eighty percent, for sure, the rest is for you."

Because she had hardly taken jack from the table, and he held his plate over hers to scrape off her twenty. Stephanie had indeed laid out rules for him, but they had been about Aya. Stephanie had ordered not to literally screw the journalist or some such nonsense. That was not a problem. Dean wanted the photographer anyway.

"You have to remember, I don't have the appetite of a giant or a small army." Hell, there was NOTHING small about this man, even his fingers were lengthy. Christ, now she was thinking about his hands being in places and…NO! "Thanks." Macaria began munching on a chicken drumstick, pleased with the catering WWE provided. That was one good thing at least. "So, since you won't talk to my boss, and you seem to want to spend time with me, why not tell me something about you nobody else knows?"

The research had been done and Macaria had watched a few clips from his Independent wrestling days. Honestly wondering if some of the stuff regarding his childhood he said in promos was true. Curiosity killed the cat, as the old saying went.

"Whatever you say will stay between us, I promise."

Sure, off the record and all that. Dean might've thought she was a fine piece of tail and definitely interested in pursuing her, but he hadn't been born yesterday. She worked with a journalist, nothing was sacred.

"Like what?" He asked finally, around a mouthful of what was some type of grainy bread. "My first kiss was in the 3rd grade, she screamed afterward. Or maybe that was me…" If she wanted to know about him and expected him to believe her 'between us' thing, Macaria would have to do some trading back and forth.

"Mine was high school. And it was a prank. I kicked the guy in the nuts afterward and, since he was the captain of the football team, he couldn't play in the championship game."

Macaria grinned at the memory, proud of herself and chomped on more chicken. Even though she acted shy, if a man tried to physically harm her, Macaria knew how to take care of herself. Self-defense and kick-boxing classes worked wonders for that sort of thing.

"You moved fast – 3rd grade? God, I feel like a prude now. Thanks, Deano." She laughed because it reminded her of the dinosaur off the Flintstones. "Anyway…"

"I only kissed her because eating worms was not an option." Dean remarked, a serious tone to his voice. "Inner-city kids do a lot of growing up quick." A lot of copying of stuff they saw older kids doing, other people doing in their oh-so-lovely neighborhoods. He had indeed grown up damn quick. Dean grinned at her own story, wondering if it was meant to be a harmless prank or done out of spite. "Any reason for the prank, for possibly costing this guy the, uh, chance to play in a game that important?"

"It was meant to be mean because his ex-girlfriend hated me. I was a loner in high school and she was the lead cheerleader. Same old song and dance. They thought they'd get the best of me and instead, I got the best of them."

Macaria rolled her eyes, dipping a carrot in some of Dean's ranch sauce since she was out. It sounded like Dean had a rough childhood from what he offered and Macaria's heart went out to him. It couldn't be easy; the stuff he spat in his Indy promos about his mother being a whore on the streets in order to put food on the table was probably all true. She couldn't imagine and had grown up in a semi-decent place, with a single mother, who worked 3 jobs in order to support her and her lamebrain, deadbeat sister that still sponged off of her.

"So about what happened earlier at the gym, I was out of line and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Dean had to digest that, wondering if he had heard her right. Because of issues with another girl, she had cost a guy what could have been his ride to college. That was pretty awesome actually, nobody would ever accuse Dean Ambrose of being a saint because he sure as hell wasn't one. He had grown up in an environment that did not allow for 'take prisoners and be merciful' attitudes.

"Wait…" He blinked, she had switched gears on him pretty quick. "Were you sucking on my finger?" He could have sworn it was the other way around and seen just a hint of pink appearing in her cheeks.

"I – um – I touched you first though and I shouldn't have done that."

Wow, the temperature in catering had kicked up a notch, or several, and Macaria lowered her gaze to her food. She wanted to pretend it never happened because, if Aya found out, she would lose her job and be sent back to Vegas with what was left of her luggage. Aya was called 'the Dragon' for a reason throughout the company.

"W-We should head back before Aya returns and finds us gone." Standing from the table, Macaria tossed her half-full plate of food away and walked out of catering to get some kind of Dean-free air, even if it was for a couple seconds.

Only because it was her second day of getting to know him, Dean would let her get away with walking away from him AGAIN. Next time, however, -he was dead sure there would be a next time because Macaria seemed very skittish- he was going to chase after her and he doubted she'd be able to walk away when he was done.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"Hey Princess, you said not to mess with the journalist and I'm not going too." Dean crossed his heart, smiling at Stephanie. "You have my word."

She made a low growly noise as she studied him, finally nodding.

Loophole, Stephanie hadn't mentioned a thing about the photographer.