A/N - Me again...with a second update in a week. I KNOW PEOPLE! It's weird but I'm rolling with it. Somehow this story has turned out to be the complete opposite of what I thought but here we are. At least I'm posting. And yes, I know 'The Knockout' is a shitty name but whatever lol. This story is an anomaly and I don't know why it's even happening. Probably that boxing insta of Trips the other day. Yeah, that's probably it. Enjoy...

"Ok now if you could just make a fist….a fist…..you know? Like you're in the ring?"

The boxing champion tried not to feel stupid as he raised his hand and made a pretend fist.

"Try to look angrier, like you're in the middle of a fight!"

This fucking photographer. If he wasn't careful Paul was going to end up punching him in the face. What the hell was this bullshit? Why dress him in some swanky suit and then ask him to make fighting poses? He didn't get it.

"Can't you just…..look angrier?" The man holding the camera almost growled the instruction in pure frustration. "What makes you angry? Just think of that and channel it into the shot…..what makes you angry?"

"Photographers."

Charlie Spence hung his head in his hands at the clipped answer. Paul was deadly serious, he knew it. He also knew that his client was about five seconds away from breaking every camera in the vicinity. "Paul…"

Paul took great satisfaction in the way the photographers face had fallen followed by his little gulp of fear. But then Charlie had to go and open his stupid mouth. This whole thing was his fucking fault in the first place. "What?"

"How about we take a quick break?" The producer on the shoot could sense the tension building and wisely suggested a break. Maybe it would give the man of the hour a moment to calm down. It was clear as day that he wasn't comfortable doing this. They almost had to strap him down when he heard the word makeup. So far they were only in the second phase of the three phase shoot. The first was casual wear. He didn't seem to have too much of a problem in jeans. But when the suits came out for phase two? Needless to say he had been less than cooperative. She shimmied off the set for a moment and felt tangible relief flood her body at the sight of the woman walking through the door.

"Stephanie!"

"Hey Melissa. I just thought I'd….."

"Thank God you're here."

Stephanie's brow furrowed in confusion. It wasn't until she looked that she picked up on the obvious tension in the air. "What's going on?"

"This is not going well."

"What do you mean…" Stephanie's voice trailed off when her eyes connected with an almost pleading pair of hazel eyes across the room. He looked desperate, not to mention uncomfortable and pissed off. All at the same time. It was quite the talent. "Excuse me," she muttered to Melissa. It was only when she was standing in front of him that she realized how damn good he looked in that suit. "Hey."

"Hey," Paul murmured. Honestly he was happy to see her. They had talked for almost two hours last week and despite himself, Paul had actually enjoyed the interview. It was probably because she was the first person to actually show a bit of genuine interest in his story. She didn't want to know about his career, she wanted to know about him. When she mentioned a photo shoot he had been excited at the prospect of getting to see her again. Then he got here this morning and she was nowhere to be found.

"I don't think I've ever seen you all dressed up before." You look good. Obviously she couldn't say it out loud but it didn't stop her from thinking it.

"Yeah," Paul murmured as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not my first choice. I feel kinda stupid."

He let out an embarrassed little chuckle and Stephanie swore she felt her stomach flip. He was practically blushing. God, what the hell was she even doing here anyway? Her office was six floors above the photography department. There was absolutely no reason for her to be here. But she just couldn't help herself. The simple fact of knowing that he was in the building today compelled her to stop by. The truth was, she wanted to see him again. "You don't look stupid. Just…uncomfortable."

"How have you been?"

The question threw her. "Ummmm…"

Paul didn't even know why he asked that. "I just….it's been a week since the interview and….

"I'm great!" God this was awkward. Why was this awkward? Stephanie fought the urge to cringe. She didn't want it to be like this. Besides, this was work. He was a work project. No matter how attractive he was she couldn't cross that line. As he stood there staring at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world she realized just how hard that was going to be. She was attracted to him period. Fuck.

"That's good." Paul could see her brain running a mile a minute and frowned. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Listen, I think I'd prefer to have you in the ring."

"What?"

"The photo shoot….I meant the….I'd like to have the photo shoot in the ring." She was stammering like a God damn idiot. "Hold on a second, I'm going to speak to the team and see if we can get this moved to your gym."

She didn't even give him a chance to respond. Paul simply watched her stalk towards the dickhead with the camera. They spoke briefly and if Paul wasn't mistaken, there had been a visible look of relief on the other man's face. Before he knew what was happening everybody was packing up equipment and they were on their way to the elevators.

"Thank you."

Stephanie looked up from her notepad and smiled. "You don't have to thank me. These pictures are ten times better than the others. You look so much more relaxed in the ring. I'm glad we came here."

"So am I." Paul didn't hesitate to sit next to her on the same dingy couch where they had spoken last week. He wanted to ask her something but was shit scared that she'd say no. "I actually managed to enjoy myself."

She was hard pressed to disagree. There were definitely worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching him in just his shorts pose around the gym. "That's surprising." She forgot herself for a moment and playfully bumped his shoulder.

"You must think I'm an asshole."

"I don't. I think…" she faltered, deciding to take a second to choose her words. "I think you're overwhelmed Paul. I think you're a man who's still trying to come to grips with his sudden fame. I think you're a private person who'd rather his personal business wasn't put out there for the world to see. I think you can be…difficult, but I don't think you're an asshole." Stephanie looked at him and held his intense gaze. If she wasn't mistaken, he was looking at her like… No. No way. She was imagining things.

Paul simply couldn't stop staring at her. How could she understand so much about him when they had only met twice and spoken for not even two hours? Why did he even feel so comfortable talking to her in the first place? God she was beautiful. And he was completely fucked. "I thought you were a reporter, not a shrink."

She caught the humor in his tone and smiled, finally breaking their gaze to glance towards the ring. "Half of reporting is reading people. You're not as hard to read as you think."

"Nobody has ever really bothered before."

"Bothered to what?"

"Read me. Get to know me. All anybody wants is a picture or an autograph or a retelling of my fight against Cicero, or Lampard, or Nunez. They want me to play fight with their kids and try to teach them how to punch in less than a minute. The sports channels ask the same things over and over again. When I meet other writers, sports writers, I can feel how much they hate me. They think I'm a one trick pony, a knockout artist and that's it. An amateur who keeps getting lucky. But you…" He desperately wanted to reach out and touch her knee but he stopped himself. He didn't even want to finish his sentence.

Stephanie's heart was pounding. "What?"

"You didn't care about any of that. You wanted to know about me."

They regarded each other silently, both eager for more but neither willing to take that step. For Stephanie it was a line she couldn't cross. She was a professional. She couldn't become romantically linked to one of her stories. It wasn't good for business. For Paul the fear of rejection weighed like a ton on his shoulders. He shouldn't be stressing about this with the biggest fight of his life just a week away. But he liked her.

He really liked her.

Fuck it.

"Do you want to come to the fight next week?"

"Paul I….I can't." It killed her to say it. It killed her even more when she saw the rejection in his eyes.

"Right. It's fine. Ummmm, I guess I'll…" He tried to stand but stopped at the feel of her fingers wrapped around his forearm.

Stephanie couldn't even believe she was about to do this. She would have to spin it as being part of the piece. "I'll come."

"You will?"

"Yes. I want to." She let herself smile and it only grew bigger at the wide smile she received in return.

"Champ! We need ya over here for a spar."

Paul almost didn't hear Jimmy yelling across the gym hall. He could look at Stephanie all day long if he let himself. But he had a fight to prepare for.

"CHAMP!"

"I should go." Stephanie bashfully glanced to the ground, smile still firmly in place. They both stood and she relished the feel of his hand on the small of her back. They walked to the door in a comfortable silence. She didn't want to leave.

Paul wanted to kiss her but kept the urge at bay. Instead he simply smiled once again and let his fingers trail over her arm as he pulled his hand away. "See you next week?"

She nodded and turned to leave. "Bye."

"Bye."

Inside the ring Charlie and Jimmy exchanged amused glances. It seemed the world champ had something of a high school crush. "Is that going to be a problem?" Charlie indicated with a flick of his head towards the door.

"Nah," Jimmy replied confidently. "PAUL! Get your ass over here and stop chasing tail. We've got work to do..."

Paul snapped out of his funk and headed for the ring. He really couldn't afford any distractions. But that was only one way of looking at it. With the fight on the horizon Stephanie could be a distraction…or, she could be an extra shot of motivation. He didn't want to lose this fight but with her watching he had more reason than ever. An intense surge of adrenaline shot through his body. He was ready for this. Maybe next week he'd walk out of Las Vegas with more than the gold.