Jessica McMahon hadn't made this trip since she was nineteen years old.

Most of her trips to Connecticut had been via the corporate jet or from a show on a commercial flight.

And when she was in the office for an extended period of time, she stayed with either her parents or her brother, then flew back to Massachusetts on the company plane.

But after spending the week in West Newbury, a week removed from staying in Miami with Dwayne, Jessica decided that she needed some time to clear her head in a quiet, neutral place place, something that her house next to the Cena family or a crowded Delta flight could not offer.

For the next few hours, it was just her, her Mustang, and the road.

"Aunt Jessie!" a small voice cried out, followed by the sound of little footsteps.

Her face softened as Declan rounded the corner. "Declan!"

The little boy launched himself at his aunt's legs, causing her to drop her numerous bags of presents on the floor. "I miss you!"

"I missed you too, buddy," she laughed and hugged him. "You've gotten so big since I saw you a few months ago."

Marissa's voice soon caught her attention. "I finally got him to stop staring out the window. Sure enough, five minutes later, you show up."

Declan's big eyes studied her curiously. "Where's Uncle John?"

"Oh…" Jessica trailed off and squatted down to his eye level. "Uncle John had to go spend Christmas with his Mommy and Daddy, just like I had to spend Christmas with mine. Since it's winter, it's not smart for your little brother and cousin to be on a plane since they're still kind of little and can catch germs from other kids on the way to see their grandmas and grandpas."

He nodded enthusiastically. "Ohhhh. I see. Are those my presents?"

Marissa mouthed an apology to her and she nodded, standing back up.

"Some of them, yes. But I had to get presents for everyone, didn't I?" his aunt nodded, tapping her nephew on the nose. "I bet you Santa's going to bring you even more presents, though… especially if you've been a good boy this year."

The child bobbed up and down enthusiastically. "I've been a very good boy, Aunt Jessie!"

She reached out a deep purple-manicured hand and ruffled his hair. "I know you have, little guy. Go inside and tell everyone I'm here, will you?"

"Okay!" he exclaimed brightly and ran off to find the rest of the family, most likely telling his father the news first.

Jessica shook her head and laughed, bending over to collect the gift bags that she had dropped.

"Let me help you," Marissa offered, scooping up a few shopping bags. "I'm sorry about that. He's just very observant. How are you holding up?"

"I'm alright," her sister-in-law replied honestly. "I think it's just good to be home, for once. It hasn't been all of us here for ages." Her voice then dropped to a whisper. "And thanks for staying on the phone with me last night... and not telling anything to Shane. You have no idea how much that helped me…"

But before Marissa could add her own thoughts, a familiar voice called out from around the corner, "Jessica!"

A knowing smile spread across the face as Linda McMahon came into view. "Hey, Mom."

Her mother quickly covered the distance between them and enveloped her daughter in an embrace. "I was so worried about you, Jess. After that awful story broke, I tried calling you a thousand times, but you weren't answering your phone."

"I know, I'm sorry for worrying you," she began to explain as her mother's grip relaxed. "I just needed to disconnect myself from the world for a little while."

"I understand," Linda answered with a nod. "If a tabloid made up such vicious lies about your father and I, I'd certainly feel the same way."

Marissa's eyes flickered to catch Jessica's own gaze nervously and it was in that moment that Jessica knew what she had to do.

She had to tell her parents. She had to tell them everything.

"Actually, Mom…" Jessica started shakily. "Do you think that I could talk to you, Dad, Steph, and Shane for a little while? It's kind of important."

Marissa interred for the save quickly. "Paul and I will watch the kids. You go right ahead."

"Jessica," her mother addressed her sternly. "Paul and Marissa are as large a part of this family as the rest of us. Don't you think they should be involved in this conversation?"

Guiltily, she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "They already know."

That was it. There were no more secrets between her family and herself. Everything was out in the open and Paul was on his own.

It was hard to look at her parents as she spoke, unable to distinguish one expression from the next for the first time in years.

Shane probably took the news better than the other three members of the family. He never wavered once in his expression, always nodding along sympathetically as she told the story. She had to give him credit, though. That was not an easy thing to do.

Her sister was another story altogether.

"Excuse me," Stephanie apologized preemptively and rose from her chair. "I have to go kill my husband now."

Jessica's hand shot out and pushed down on her sister's forearm. "Sit down, Steph. It's not his fault."

"Not his fault?" Stephanie's eyebrows shot towards the sky. "Are you kidding me? He poked his big fucking nose somewhere it didn't belong!"

"Dwayne volunteered the information to him…"

"And he should have taken it to the grave!" she countered angrily.

Stephanie Marie McMahon was a lot of things in life. And sure, her relationship with her younger sister was rocky, at best.

But no one messed with Jessica and got away with it. Not even Stephanie's own husband.

"Look, I didn't come here to cause problems," the younger of the sisters held up her hands. "I just wanted to tell you four the truth because you deserved to know."

"We know that you would never cheat on John, Jessica," her father spoke up, his voice much more calm than it had been earlier. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that either way, with whatever you choose, we'll support you wholeheartedly."

"And we believe you, Jessica," Shane added, placing a hand on her shoulder at the kitchen table. "But this isn't about pleasing anyone except for yourself. Don't worry about what the press says or what dirt sheet sites say. Let them talk… you have to live."

For months, I had hidden the truth from my family and it was a very stupid thing to do. It wasn't necessarily because I had to suffer through it myself, but more likely because they could have provided me with some advice that could have helped me reach my decision a lot sooner.

Mostly, it was because I had been forced to lie to them, while lying to myself.

It felt good to have everything out in the open. I needed the burden off my shoulder and strangely, as I walked out of the kitchen and down to the basement, I felt lighter…

I felt free.

I heard my father's footsteps behind me as I descended down the steps, but didn't even need my ears to realize his presence, judging by the look on his face.

And I'm not going to lie to you… there was a small part of me that smiled when I laid eyes on him.

Just a small one.

"You," Vince growled at his son-in-law, causing his grandson to hide behind the couch. "Upstairs. NOW."

Paul nodded and begrudgingly skulked towards the steps, avoiding his father-in-law's gaze.

More importantly, avoiding his wife's.

"John?" a voice called airily across the table and the room grew silent.

His sapphire stare snapped back into focus. "What?"

"I asked you if you wanted more turkey," his mother repeated from the other end of the table, eying him warily.

John glanced down at his plate, which was still relatively full. "No, I'm not that hungry tonight, thanks."

Steve snorted at the notion. "Since when do you decline food of any kind?"

Promptly, Jamie smacked him on the arm, causing him to wince. "Shut up," she grit her teeth at a dangerously low volume.

"Kids," John's father cleared his throat and looked at his grandchildren beside his daughter-in-law. "Why don't you go downstairs and play for a little while. We'll call you back up when we're ready for dessert."

Within thirty seconds, the kids were nearly tripping over each other as they clamored to the basement.

Carol reached out and smacked her son across the back of the head. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Whoa!" Steve protested, dropping his fork onto the empty plate. "What is this? Let's hit Steve day?"

"No," his wife growled at him. "It's hit the biggest idiot at the table day… and guess what? You win!"

"It's fine," John assured his family, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm going to go upstairs for a little while. Would you mind sending the munchkins up to get me when everyone's ready to open presents?"

"Sure, sweetie," his mother agreed with a sad nod. "Just make sure to keep the door shut or they'll blindside you. They almost killed your father this morning."

Yet, despite her attempt at humor, Carol Cena could only watch her son turn and walk out of the room, without so much as a smile gracing his face.

The blonde looked herself over in the mirror, briefly at the green-sparkled initials on her black pants, marveling at the fact that she was now in a position she had not been in since she had blown her knee out almost two years ago.

Her motto tonight would be much simpler than her last: get in, grab gold, get out, go home.

Perfect alliteration, much better than John's Hustle, Loyalty, Respect.

With a light laugh, she rolled her eyes. That one had been his idea during his transition from his rapper gimmick to his current one.

Jessica knew that tonight, he would undoubtedly be retaining his title. In fact, just last night, she had solidified those plans herself. It was the least she could do for him.

She felt bad. No, horrible was a better word. She felt absolutely sick to her stomach at points.

At one point in time, her greatest desire was for them to be champions together, to pretty much run Raw… together.

And while, at the end of the night, they both might hold the gold… they would never stand in the center of the ring with their belts.

Hell, they wouldn't stand together at all because there was no McCena any longer.

There would just be John Cena, standing on the turnbuckle, trying to be strong when all he would really be was sad and alone.

And she was the one to blame.

Pain was shooting down her torso like daggers being carved into her skin.

This was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to triumph in the face of adversity, she was supposed to overcome the emotional odds.

Jessica McMahon was not supposed to be writhing in pain in the center of the ring with Mickie James looming over her.

She closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning and in her senses' heightened state, she could hear Mickie jumping onto the rope. As fast as lightning, she ripped herself as far away from the center of the ring as she could.

By the time she opened her eyes, her opponent was curled up in a ball in the center of the ring, clutching her ribs.

A smirk spread across Jessica's face and adrenaline began to course through her veins and travel around her body, bringing intensity with it.

The blonde used every ounce of strength in her black-attired body and pushed herself upright.

This was her time, not Mickie's.

She reached out and pulled Mickie James to her feet, then DDT-ed her to the ground.

With a smile, she got back to a standing position even quicker than before and ran towards the turnbuckle, launching herself off into a corkscrew 450, perfectly falling on top of the current Women's Champion.

Jessica was not going to try anything stupid this time. She was going to end it… immediately.

With whatever strength she had left, Jessica dragged the Diva to the center of the ring, folded the brunette's legs into a triangle, and bent backwards.

There was screaming all around her and even upside down, she could make out the flashes of digital cameras from all sides of the arena.

Faintly, she could hear JR and Jerry Lawler screaming.

And then she heard a loud roar, followed by the sensation of pulling on her body.

The man in black and white stripes before her was trying to tell her something. No, he was trying to give her something.

Jessica's hazel eyes looked down and immediately glazed over.

It was gold.

I hadn't held championship gold in my hands since late 2003, at least not my own. To be honest, I admit that looking at the belt on the wall of my home in West Newbury was starting to make me long for it more and more as time passed.

But I had it, finally… and I was happy again. Well, as happy as I could be.

That night, everything went according to plan. I won the Women's Championship, John retained, and the show ended. Nothing indicated that New Year's Eve would be different than any other day.

But I should have known better.

I was in Miami for New Year's, as a result of New Year's Revolution being held there. Since it fell on December 31st, my father had the brilliant idea of throwing a New Year's Eve party for the company in the hotel ballroom.

I went home immediately after my match, stopped briefly on the way to the parking lot by friends backstage and fans once I made my way to my car. I was there another forty-five minutes or so and that was fine with me, as long as I didn't see John.

Fans had been pretty understanding of my situation, but it was getting harder and harder to dodge John backstage, especially when he came looking for me. To be honest, he did that a lot in the last weeks of 2006.

It didn't take me long to get ready for the party and by the time I got to the ballroom, the majority of the roster was there, save Dave Batista and John Cena.

I knew that Dave's absence, running on Dave Standard Time, meant he'd be there close to midnight. But he'd be there.

And I also knew that John would not.

As the last match of the night, it gave him an excuse to shower and turn in early. It also gave him an excuse to avoid me on the night in which couples kissed at midnight because technically, we weren't a couple anymore, despite the fact that his ring still resided on my right ring finger.

I thought that midnight would roll around, I'd slink away to my room unnoticed, probably cry for a while, and then head to sleep.

Little did I know that midnight would just be the start.

Jessica took another sip of her Cosmopolitan as she listened to Barbie Blank ramble on about something, nodding her head as though she was listening, when she was actually waiting for something better to do.

It hadn't taken her long to pick out her dark jeans and black halter that slightly hugged her hips below the waistline. But it was taking a while for the younger girl to take a hint.

"Hey, Barbie," a deep voice interrupted the much younger Diva's tangent. "I haven't properly congratulated Jessica here on her title win, mind giving us a minute?"

The blonde shook her head enthusiastically and smiled. "Not at all!"

"Thanks," the wrestler mumbled as she bounced off in another direction. "Does that girl ever shut up?"

Jessica laughed, lowering her drink to chest level. "Oh, she's just a kid. I probably never stopped talking when I was nineteen, either."

"You were two years from being champion when you were her age," her friend countered, shoving a hand into the acid-washed jeans that rested beneath his gray Affliction tee shirt.

The older blonde shrugged. "She could be too. You never know."

Suddenly, he burst out laughing. "Good one!"

She reached out and smacked him on the shoulder. "That's not nice, Dave! She really is a sweet girl!"

Dave Bautista rolled his brown eyes and took a swig from his beer bottle. "Barbie's nice and all, but she's as empty headed as the doll she's named for."

Jessica shot him a disapproving look and shook her head. "That's not nice."

"Come on, we both know she's not nearly capable of doing anything you did at nineteen in the ring, even in training, Jess," Dave replied seriously and then took another drink. "You're Women's Champ, she's a dancer. There's a reason for each."

"I thought you were coming over to congratulate me," she retorted with an arched eyebrow. "Not mock Barbie."

Dave wrapped his arms around her tightly, planting a kiss on the side of her temple. "Congratulations. The last time you won that thing, I think I was still on the damn sidelines after that fucking house show match."

"Oooh," she winced noticeably as they parted. "That's right. Well," the blonde continued, now with more enthusiasm, "I'm glad you're here to celebrate it with me this time."

Dave snorted and toasted the notion with his Corona. "Hell yeah, I'll drink to that."

Jessica laughed and raised her glass, earning a frown from Dave. "What?"

"Is that a… Cosmopolitan?" he asked, scrunching up his face. "That's a girly drink."

"Um… thanks!"

"You know that's not what I meant!" he exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. "I just meant that I know you can drink harder stuff and you're drinking that weak-ass shit."

"Sorry if I don't feel like drunk dialing to start off the New Year!"

"Speaking of which…" Dave trailed off and then glanced at the big projection screen at one end of the dance floor, which was currently displaying Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve on NBC. "Two minutes."

"Wow," Jessica marveled with a slow shake of her head. "So much has happened this year."

"I went from being married to divorced AND became a grandfather at thirty-seven," Dave sighed heavily. "Oh well, my life's fucked up. Might as well drink."

"I went from dating my best friend, to being engaged, to being at the center of a love triangle, and then went back to being single again," Jessica mused. "I think we both need to drink."

"Well, I'm not even buzzed, for the record," the burly wrestler stated bluntly, placing his finished bottle down on a table.

His friend scrunched her nearly-perfect nose at him. "Um, okay…"

His eyes flickered to the countdown on the screen and then back at her. "I'm only telling you this because I want you to know that I understand exactly what I'm about to do."

11:59:00

"Dave," Jessica squinted at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

11:59:10

He placed his hands firmly on her upper arms. "Listen to me, okay? You're one of my best friends and if it wasn't for you, I'd probably go insane relying on Randy Orton for advice… or get myself killed. I love you, Jessica, and I want you to be happy…"

11:59:15

"You know that I consider you one of my best friends too, Dave," she smiled at him and shook her head in amusement. "But you're not making any sense, here."

He looked down for a moment. "Man, this made much more sense in the car. Okay…"

11:59:25

"Okay."

"Right, so," the Washington, DC-native continued, picking up where he left off. "What I'm about to do is going to seem really weird to you and really out of the blue, but I promise that it will make sense after I do it."

"More than now, I hope."

11:59:35

"You deserve all of the happiness in the world, Jessica McMahon," Dave assured her, his grip as firm as before. "You're a wonderful person, not to mention a wonderful daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. You're going to be a wonderful wife someday too, but I know your guilt is stopping you from making that choice."

As Jessica opened her glossy lips to speak, Dave held up a hand to silence her.

And then the countdown began around them. "Ten!"

"So I apologize in advanced for forcing you to make it now, but I really see no other way of doing it. I just…" her friend searched the floor for the answer and then peered back up at her. "I just can't stand to see you miserable anymore."

"Five!" the group of WWE employees around them began to yell. "Four!"

"Dave, you're freaking me out a little here," Jessica admitted hesitantly, eying him.

"Three! Two!" they continued to exclaim. "One! Happy New Year!"

Dave's deep chocolate brown eyes locked on her hazel ones, bordering on gold in the florescent lighting. "Happy New Year, Jessica," he told her softly and then pressed his lips onto hers.

For a moment, Jessica just stood there with her eyes closed, frozen solid, completely confused by what was going on.

And before she could even begin to process the multitude of theories that were swirling around in her head, Dave pulled away and she looked up into his eyes.

But as she studied them intently, she noticed… they had changed.

"Jessica?" he asked cautiously, staring back at her.

"Your eyes," she remarked, tilting her head slightly to the right.

His face softened instantly. "What about them?"

"They're…" the blonde trailed off, searching for a word. "Different."

Dave pressed her further, "Different?"

Jessica nodded, her loose caramel curls moving with her. "Yes, they're…"

He leaned in closer to her, focusing all of his attention on her in anticipation of her answer. "They're…"

Her French-manicured hand flew up to her mouth and she gasped. "Oh my God."

The suspense was killing the six foot, six inch, two hundred and ninety-pound Dave Batista. "What?"

And that's when it hit me like a brick wall.

After Dave kissed me, I looked into his eyes and found that they weren't his. And it was in that moment that it dawned on me.

Dave Bautista is a fucking genius.

A/N: Oh, come on! You didn't ACTUALLY think I'd tell you at the end, did you?

I banged out this chapter over the course of the last three days and to be completely honest, I have all of the next chapter, Chapter 18 done. And guess what?

You find out exactly what she saw in the FIRST line of the chapter. And it'll give away exactly who she chooses! I swear, you'll be happy and sad all in the same chapter. Some of you might even cry. I know Charlie will. (Love you, Char.)

That being said… I want twenty reviews before I post the next one. That's more than fair, I think. We hit twenty in less than five days. I'd love to see how fast you review this one when you're dying for answers! Haha. I know I'm killing you via torture, but I'm sorry. I can't help it.

Plus, FF's decision to not let me log in was totally NOT my fault. I hope this hasn't tortured you too much.

Now, onto the shout-outs…

Queen Chaos-Hardy – I'm glad you like it, even though you know who she's picking. But I hope you find the ending of this chapter surprising.

Hotpocketbandit – Undoubtedly so, but maybe he's the best thing for her. Who knows? And I'm so jealous, I got screwed out of my December show. I'm still pissed at the person.

Da-Real-Mrz-Cena102100 – Yes, Randy is just fine. And I think you should make Team Cena shirts! Haha. Although, you should probably leave someone else to make Team Rock shirts because you might make it look like a first grader's drawing out of anger.

Enigmatic Lotus Leaf – Oh come on, if you could paintball the paparazzi, you so would! And you will… next chapter.

StarSixtyNine – Hehe.

Dreamin'BIG – Thank you! I love paintball myself! The writer's block is gone! Isn't it amazing? I'm so happy!

Sideways anger – I'm glad Christian is back, but he's being wasted on the red-headed stepchild that is ECW. Smackdown could use the ratings! Put him there in the draft!

FrequentlyDazzled619 – She has to choose! I'm sorry, but she must. And you should talk to Da-Real-Mrz-Cena102100… you can make shirts together! I'm happy they started up the McMahon-Helmsley Era again. I missed it so! And by the way, no review is EVER too long!

CamieAnn – Thank you so much! Paintballing is mad fun!

AlexiaCallaway – Well, sit on your hands no more!

WinchesterAngel3389 – Hell yes, he can. I miss Supernatural Thursdays at school. I liked watching Ugly Betty on HD via ABC's website and watching the show with my roommate. And you shall find out soon enough.

Chain Gang Princess – Seriously, understatement of the year! I think we should make a paintballing league.

ThatGirl54 – Thank you! Another member of the paintballing league.

iNdY MiLk – Thank you so much!

Nic-002001 – I hope this was soon enough for you. I know I haven't updated in less than a week in a while.

Westfan – I'm glad I made him easy to sympathize with. Aren't you so proud of your Davey for being the problem solver?!?!?

Vjsimpact – Thank you for giving the story a chance. I know that sometimes, when an author writes an original character into someone's past, it turns out as an unbelievable circumstance or as a disaster altogether. I'm thrilled that you can appreciate the intricacy of this story, as a result. I'm always impressed when people say they read all of the stories, but since we're nearing the end, you've pretty much read almost the whole thing to catch up. That's amazing. I'm so glad that this story has become one of your favorites and that you've come to read my other stories. Thanks so much, loyal Rebel. Rock on!

Animal-Luvr-89 – I am so impressed! And don't cry… although, you might next chapter. For reasons, I cannot say.

Cena-holic8 – You're quite welcome. I, for one, am more than happy to rid myself of writer's block! And you might be. While you won't see who she married, as in a MAJOR flash forward, you will see the continuation of this last scene. And that's pretty much a dead give-away.

Well, there you go, everyone! Please review and let me know what you thought. In case you haven't realized, I do update Jessica's blog portion of my profile after every update.

Sometimes there are clues! Gasp! Review and then check it out!

In the meantime, I hope you've had a great week and will have a good few days (or less, hopefully) until the next chapter comes out. It's in your hands!

Rock on, Rebels!

Danielle