A/N - I'm posting this as a distraction to all the bad news today. And yes, I really actually finished something! AMAZING! I'm rather proud of myself and even though this probably isn't the best thing I've ever written (the whole story I mean), it has got my writing juices flowing again. For that I'm thankful. So enjoy...

Stephanie shut her eyes at what felt like a million camera flashes going off all at once. A thunderous roar erupted all around her. The action in the ring was fast and furious but to her it was almost like she was watching in slow motion. Another vociferous roar accentuated the fifth consecutive punch right to the champions face. She watched in horror as a red mist sprayed out of…somewhere.

His mouth?

His nose?

She had no idea because his entire face was painted crimson. The blood thirsty hoards surrounding her were literally salivating at what they were seeing. The knockout artist champion was now in his seventh round of boxing and his challenger appeared to have a jaw made out of steel. The ultimate chess match, albeit completely barbaric and difficult to watch in her opinion.

Stephanie let out an audible gasp when Paul was knocked off his feet. An eruption of noise like she had never heard before caused her ears to start ringing. Not a single person was sitting down as the referee started counting.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

Her heart willed him to get up. The sigh of relief that unabashedly flew out of her mouth when he slowly staggered to his feet surprised her.

6…

7…

Her concerned blue eyes stared in amazement as Paul stood back up and immediately dove back into the fray. She ignored the audible groans of some of those seated next to her. Too many people wanted him to lose. It was only tonight that she truly understood what he had been talking about during their interview. Nobody believed in him. Nobody believed he was anything other than a fluke, even after being the champion for all this time he was still forced to prove himself with every fight.

Mercifully the bell rang signaling the end of the round. Stephanie studied him intensely. He was beat to hell but through it all, despite his bruised body and bloody face he kept his head held high. She truly admired his strength and determination. It was now common knowledge that this was the longest he had ever boxed during his professional career. The benefit of KO'ing everybody so quickly was that his fights didn't usually last that long. But the clear disadvantage was manifesting itself right now. No early knockout meant a longer fight and for Paul that meant being thrust into a situation he wasn't familiar with.

"Levesque is such a joke man."

"I'm amazed he's lasted this long."

"He's such a fucking fluke. Look at him. There's no way he's winning this."

Stephanie felt her blood boil. Who the fuck did these idiots think they were? More importantly than that, why the hell was she getting so defensive over him? Paul was…she didn't know what he was if she was being honest. But she definitely cared about him, that she did know. Watching him get beaten to a bloody pulp was bad enough without the added commentary. Deciding to take the high road, she ignored the comments and went back to watching him intently. She could still remember the brief little flicker of amusement in his eyes as they joked quietly in his locker room just before she was whisked away to her seat in the third row. It was one of only two moments when his expression hadn't been consumed with pure and utter focus. The other had been when she had pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

For luck.

His brown eyes had softened as he just stared at her, both of them losing themselves in the moment. Deep down Stephanie knew why she was being so defensive. She knew why her fingers hurt from gripping the edge of her seat so hard. She knew why her heart was in her throat. It was because that innocent kiss and the look they had shared after had meant more to her than any moment she had shared with anybody else. She'd had full blown relationships that never set her entire body alight the way that short moment had with Paul.

The bell rang once more indicating the start of the next round. Stephanie absently gripped the edge of her seat again. She just wanted it to be over now. Why couldn't it just be over?

It seemed the boxing Gods had other plans in mind. Vladimir Aminev, the giant Slovenian contender for the title, seemed to catch his second wind and was dropping bombs left and right. Stephanie was almost in tears as Paul was backed into the corner. With every shot that landed his hands dropped lower and lower. She was no boxing expert but she was pretty sure that being able to defend yourself was critical to participation.

The atmosphere in the MGM Grand reached fever pitch.

This was it.

Aminev was finally set to fulfill the media's prophecy and dethrone the champion.

Inside the ring Paul could barely see. Everything was blurry and tinted red. He breathed heavily as another blow cracked against his ribs. If he didn't find a way out Aminev was going to drop him where he stood.

He blinked…

Once.

Twice.

With every ounce of power left in his body he lashed out. It was wild but it was effective. The giant Slovenian stumbled back. Paul swung wildly again, drawing strength from the perfect connection his glove made with Aminev's left cheek. All around him the place was going nuts but he heard none of it. He jabbed twice with the left and then landed a devastating right that sent the other man tumbling back.

Paul surged forward and connected with another right. This time the Slovak fell to one knee. Without a seconds hesitation Paul followed through with what would be the final punch of the match. Aminev's head hit the mat to the sound of deafening cheers. It was only then that he allowed himself to take it in.

He did it.

He had won.

A few feet away Stephanie roared her congratulations. The same idiots who just minutes ago had been talking crap were now on their feet cheering with everybody else. It had all happened so quickly she could hardly even believe it. She couldn't take her eyes off him as his trainers jumped in the ring to celebrate. Charlie looked like he was about to spontaneously combust and she was pretty sure she had seen actual dollar signs in his eyes. How could she blame him? There was now no doubt that Paul Levesque was one of the biggest sports stars in the world. Whether he wanted it or not, his performance tonight had solidified it.

She continued to watch as he was paraded around the ring. The official announcement would happen as soon Vladimir Aminev got to his feet and from the looks of it, it might not be any time soon. He was out cold.

When Paul finally turned in her direction she tried not to gasp at the way his gaze immediately fell upon her. He didn't look away, not until he was announced the victor and his arm raised high in the air did he break eye contact.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the MGM Grand….your winner…by knockout in the eighth round…and STILL the reigning IBF heavyweight boxing champion of the woooorld….PAUL 'THE KNOCKOUT' LEVESQUE!"

Bruce Buffer's infamous voice seemed to cut through the endless echo of noise and excitement in the air. Another loud cheer erupted from the spectators. Stephanie smiled. He did it. He had won.

"Is it ok to go in?"

"Miss McMahon!" Charlie Spence half slurred. He took another long gulp of champagne and grinned like an idiot. "Can you believe it?"

Stephanie was certain that Mr Spence was going to drink himself into a stupor if he wasn't careful. The man was practically swaying, his eyes bright and glossy. "It's amazing…..can I go in?" She just wanted to see him.

"Yes…yes! Move aside and let her in guys. He's been asking for you."

A bashful little smile tugged at her lips at that admission. She maneuvered her way through the throng of people stationed outside his door. Surprisingly the noise and activity completely evaporated as soon as she stepped inside. She found him sitting on the trainer's table with his shiny gold belt sitting at his side. His right hand was resting in a bowl of ice.

"Hey."

When he looked up she sucked in a sharp breath. The damage to his face left him looking like he just survived a car crash. In many ways he had. Bruised cheek and jaw, heavy purple-red bags under both eyes and a nasty gash slowly oozing blood on to the hefty gauze around his left temple…and yet, he was still the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen.

Even though his entire face hurt, Paul smiled at the sight of her. "Hey. Come on in."

"It's quiet in here."

"Yeah…I just didn't feel like moving yet."

She took in his appearance and smiled softly. He was still clad in his black and gold shorts. His boots were undone, the tongues flapping loose without the laces to hold the shoe together. He had every right in the world to just sit and do nothing.

"Did you like the fight?"

"I don't know if like is the right word but….yes. Yes I did. And I'm really glad you won."

His entire face lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Me too." The title clanked against the metal support of the trainer's table as it was triumphantly wiggled in the air.

Stephanie continued her slow walk towards him and let her fingers reach out. They ran across the cold surface of the title belt and a strange feeling ran over her. All of this, all the bruises and cuts on his face, his beaten body; all of it just to be able to lay claim to a piece of gold. It would be unfair to lie and say she understood it. But the pure contentment on his battered face said it all. It meant the world to him and she knew it was because it symbolized validation. He had lasted eight brutal rounds and lived to tell the tale. Maybe now he'd no longer be the 'fluke champion' and people would show him a little bit of respect.

Paul moved the belt to the other side of the table, clearing room for her to sit down. A soft wave of perfume drifted up his nose as she sat and he was suddenly struck with the urge to kiss her. If she had walked in here an hour ago he'd likely already have had her against the wall by now. That type of adrenaline was hard to fight off. But now his body was coming down from the high and he was feeling everything tenfold.

The moment passed.

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

Her brow furrowed and without thinking she reached across the small space between them and grabbed his free hand.

"But like the most glorious shit in the world. That doesn't even make sense, does it?" Paul laughed quietly, his gaze drawn to their joined hands now resting in her lap.

"I guess it does…in a weird boxing champ of the world kind of way."

Soft blue eyes studied hard bruised knuckles. Even swollen like it was his hand still fit so perfectly with hers and it made her giddy.

"I'm still the champ but there's still one thing I want."

Stephanie swallowed the lump in her throat. His voice had dropped to a dangerously low level. It set her entire body alight. "What?"

"I really want to kiss you."

Fuck it, Paul thought to himself. She wouldn't be here if she wasn't interested and there was nothing that could ruin tonight for him. If he didn't do this he would have regretted it forever. He shifted just a little and leaned forward, head ducking and forehead resting against hers.

Her eyes slid shut and her breathing grew deep. What the hell was happening? His face was a fucking mess yet she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers. Not needing a second longer to decide, she grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him the rest of the way there. A deep sigh rumbled at the back of her throat as their lips melded together. It started gentle but it wasn't enough. She needed more. Not even the slight copper taste of his tongue rolling with hers was enough to ruin this moment. It was everything she didn't know she needed.

Paul let out a growl that was swallowed into her mouth as they kissed languidly. It was slow and probably way more than what was socially acceptable for a first kiss but he didn't care. So caught up in the moment, his right hand automatically lifted to tangle in her hair, bringing with it a large dollop of water from the ice bowl it had been resting in. They suddenly broke apart, foreheads coming to rest together.

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"It's fine. It's not every day a guy gets me all wet on the first date." His eyes grew wide at her blunt remark and her shoulders shook with laughter.

"Wow," Paul simply grinned. "Although I don't think this counts as a date. But you should let me take you on one."

"Is the champ asking me out?"

"He is."

"I accept. Now, kiss me again before the hordes come bursting through this door."

She didn't have to ask him twice. His lips crashed against hers, his right hand threading through her hair anyway. The validation he secretly craved, the world title still in his midst and a beautiful woman by his side. This night couldn't have gone any better if he had planned it himself. And deep in his gut, Paul had a strong feeling that things would last for much longer than one night, especially when it came to one Stephanie McMahon.