To me, the song "Outlaw Torn" seems to be about the singer feeling helpless over the lack or no control he has over his life.

One of my favorite lines of the song, "And if I close my mind in fear; Please pry it open" influenced this chapter and the next greatly. Enjoy!

Nine

As Roman stood outside the door of the pastry kitchen on Wednesday, he touched his hair to make sure that it was neatly secured in a hair net.

Then he knocked on the door and entered the kitchen. A blond haired man wearing a tall chef hat smiled at him as he made notes on a clipboard. "Roman Reigns," he announced in a matter of fact tone.

"That's me," Roman affirmed.

The man shook his hand. "Chris Jericho. I'm the executive pastry chef here."

"You're Kevin's boyfriend."

"That's right."

Roman followed him to his small office. "So I've heard nothing but good things about you from Kevin," the blond said, sitting down and removing his hat. "You've got to let me try those lemon tarts."

"Sure."

"Our team is split into four sections: all day dining, banquet, lounge and Pickenham Wing… eh that's the wing where mostly VVIPs and most high paying guests stay. I'll be putting you under Pickenham Wing for now but hey give it a month. If you wish to move to another section after that, I'm okay with it."

"Okay I look forward to it."

Chris switched on his computer and clicked on a folder on his desktop named "Pickenham Wing". There were various word documents- mostly menus - and picture files in it.

"Pickenham Wing has a complimentary cocktail session every day from 4.30pm to 6.30pm. Guests who are staying there are also entitled to complimentary breakfast at the summit room. Sometimes you may need to prepare special requests as to seeing how some high profile guests may have their own preferences. But those are quite rare surprisingly."

"How many menu cycles do we work with?"

"Three."

Roman nodded. Three was relatively easy to work with.

"For now, we have a high profile guest checking in at eleven later," Chris added. "He has a sweet tooth so I'm hoping you can whip him up something special."

Roman beamed. "I think I may have something in mind."

"Dean," John said as the blond walked towards his desk. "I've been trying to reach you all morning. Is your phone switched off?"

"My battery has gone flat," Dean replied as he sat down. "What's wrong?"

"Captain wants to see us."

Dean sauntered over to Captain Calaway's office. "What's up?" he asked.

The Captain shook his head. "Ambrose, are you taking a stroll down the park with your boyfriend? Sit your ass down."

John walked in behind, snickering. "Hilarious."

"You too, G.I. Joe."

Dean burst out into laughter. Then he stopped. "You too, Cap?"

"Me too what?"

John grinned as he took a seat next to Dean. "Told you you've been smiling a lot."

Captain Calaway shrugged. "I'm just glad it's not that punk ass Seth."

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean pleaded.

"We can. I need you both to go undercover."

Dean made a face. "As what?"

"A bunch of rich dicks. We have insider information that Big Boss is staying at the Wellington Hotel Haydon."

Dean's immediate thoughts went straight to Roman. Roman was working there. And he was in the same building as one of the area's biggest sex slavery syndicate. "When do you want us to do this? And what about our case?"

"You let the case be handled by Dolph and Neville. You two handle this. You'll be undergoing a makeover."

Dean made a face. "I love my look. Now I'll have to adapt to being… what do you want me to be?"

"Auburn. But you'll have to shave. John… I'm thinking a blond look. I'll have them fix you a wig." The Captain sipped his coffee. "Under no circumstances are you reveal your identity to anyone."

"That's gonna be hard for me. Roman… Roman's working there."

"As a?"

"Chef."

The Captain seemed to be in deep thought. "Okay. Fine but only him. Maybe he can keep a look out for you."

Dean nodded.

"Well, time for makeup, ladies."

Roman loved that Chris trusted him. He even loved his new colleagues in his section. They were an odd bunch but boy were they a team.

There was Bayley, the lovable Sous Chef. Matt Hardy and his brother, Jeff who were both in the capacity of Cook 1 and Rusev, the Bulgarian Junior Sous Chef.

What struck a chord in him was their trust in him. Rusev even let Roman use his own recipe for the lemon tarts.

He sent up to Mr Adam Black - the high profile guest that Chris was briefing him about earlier - a lemon tart, pralines and assorted cookies that Rusev had baked.

He was now working on making choux pastry to make profiteroles for cocktail later. He could not wait to share about his day with Dean.

Probably the best part of being in a relationship was having someone to share your life with.

"What filling would you like to put for your profiteroles?" Rusev asked casually as he rolled his dough with a wooden pin. "Yesterday we used whipped cream."

"How about some apple cinnamon custard?" the Samoan suggested. "It is fall now."

"Good choice."

They made small talk about Rusev's upcoming trip back to his hometown and Roman's hair of all things. Rusev asked for hair care tips which made the raven haired chef smile.

"Roman?" Chris walked up to him. "Mr Black would like to give compliments to the chef who made the lemon tart."

Rusev smiled warmly and patted his back. "Good for you, Roman. Better go."

Roman was about to pinch himself as he followed Chris out from the kitchen to the lounge of the Pickenham Wing.

The lounge was warmly lit with pillars engraved with intricate lines surrounded by posh furnishings.

There were musicians playing in the corner a violin, harp and piano.

There was only one man standing amidst all this grandeur with his back facing Roman looking out at the window. "Don't worry," Chris assured him. "Just smile and say thank you."

"Okay."

Chris left and Roman walked towards the man. "You wanted to see me, Mr Black?"

Mr Black was a handsome man. His hair was black with some streaks of grey hair, combed back with a straight nose and brown eyes. His lips were full and his eyes seemed to be giving Roman a look over.

"You must be the chef who made that delicious lemon tart." He was soft spoken yet confident.

"Yes. That's me, Mr Black." Roman accepted his hand. "My name's Roman."

"Your tart reminded me of home, Roman. It's brought back some warm memories so thank you for that. I've been away from home far too long."

"Thank you."

"I've been staying with the Wellington Hotel all over the world but this is the first place I'd definitely come back to again."

"You're very kind." There was something vaguely familiar about the man. Roman felt as if he had seen him before. But where?

Apparently he must have thought the same thing too. "Have we met before?"

Roman shook his head ruefully. "I don't think so."

"Well… I won't take up too much of your time. Thank you, Roman."

"Thank you, Mr Black."

"Adam. Call me Adam."

Dean admired his reflection in the mirror of the lounge of Pickenham Wing. His hair was now auburn and traces of his beard all gone. His normally messy hair was now slicked back.

Gone were his leather jacket and boots. In its place was an Armani suit and dress shoes.

Well Dad, just like how you wanted me to be, right? The irony of life, he mused.

He turned his head and caught a glimpse of a black haired man in a chef's uniform who would make any person weak in the knee.

Wait a minute…

He caught himself before he shouted Roman's name. "Ummm… you the chef!" he snapped his fingers.

Dean had made sure he spoke in a high pitched voice.

Roman stopped in his tracks and made his way towards Dean. Ordinarily the cop prided himself on being a professional but damn it. Seeing Roman in that uniform made him think of moves he'd like to put on his gentle Samoan that would have him walking funny for a week.

"Yes, Sir?" Roman asked with a polite smile.

"Follow me."

He led Roman to the gents and noticed him getting nervous. "S-Sir… I really should get back."

It was a kick to his head, a reminder of the trauma his boyfriend must have experienced as a result of the rape.

Dean kicked open the two bathroom stalls and found both empty. Then he locked the door.

"It's me, Roman," he said in his gravel voice.

Roman squinted. "Dean?"

"Yeah." He pulled Roman into his arms and gave him a hard kiss. "Gosh Roman… you look so hot in that uniform."

Roman smiled, bashful. "Uh… thank you. But why do you look different?"

"I'm undercover. I need to catch someone here… a big time criminal."

"Oh. What about the rapist?"

"His case is being handled by someone else."

Roman looked at his watch. "I have to go, Dean. My colleagues will be looking for me."

"I know." For the first time in his career, Dean hated his job. Nothing would have made him happier than cuddling with Roman on the couch, listening to him relate his day. "I'll… call you later. You finish at six, right?"

"Yeah."

Like magnets, their lips were drawn together. It took a lot from Dean to break the kiss. No one but the six foot three man standing in front of him made him feel this way.

It was a priceless feeling.

"Go," Dean said as he unlocked the door. As he watched Roman leave, it took everything in him not to pull him back into his arms.

"I love our rooms!"

Dean shrugged as John jumped on the king sized bed. He was used to seeing things like these they held no meaning for him. That was the thing that always made his family puzzled; made Seth throw remarks about him being naive.

The now auburn haired man always wondered if true love existed. He knew that when he found it - if he was lucky enough - he'd cherish it more than anything. And when Roman came along, he knew that he had been right.

"A dining room, a living room, a soaking tub with a LCD television and dude," John cheered, "We get to enjoy free champagne, wine, juices and canapés at the Lounge."

"Yay how nice," Dean remarked. "John, we're here to catch a predator. The sooner we nab him, the better."

"You're just mad because you won't be sleeping in the same bed as Roman."

"Yes. I am."

John patted his back. "It's always not easy, Dean. But it'll get better as time passes by."

Dean doubt it. This whole love thing was making him miserable if anything. "Yeah I guess it will," he lied.

At four thirty, they went down to the Lounge where waiters were holding trays of champagnes and wines. "Pinot Noir for you, Sir?" one of them offered him.

"No, thank you. Do you have an apple juice or something?"

"Certainly, Sir." The waiter motioned to his colleague who gave Dean a glass. He sipped his glass when his eyes fell upon a man talking to Roman who was refilling some pastry item.

Something about the man didn't sit well with him.

John's eyes followed his. "Dean," he said warningly.

"No, John. That man… something's not right about him."

"That's the boyfriend in you talking."

Dean frowned at his friend. "No. That's the cop in me talking. Pay attention to him, John. Captain didn't train us for nothing in this."

John conceded and stared at how the man talked to Roman. "His moves seem to be calculated." He sipped his sparkling juice. "Good call, Dean. Let me ask you something."

"What?"

"Does Roman know how dangerous you actually are?"

"Shut up, John. He'd run for the mile if he knew."

John laughed. "Okay; point noted."

Roman walked to the table behind Dean and placed more choux pastry on the table. "Mmm… St Honore's Cake," he remarked. "Haven't seen those in ages."

His boyfriend's brown eyes widened. "You know."

"Considering who my family is, you shouldn't be surprised." He set his glass on a tray a waiter who was passing by was carrying. "Who is that guy?"

"What guy?" Roman asked.

"The one who was talking to you at the other spread."

"You notice everything, Dean?" he asked. Dean could tell he was a bit taken aback.

"Kind of have to, Roman. It's my job." He didn't dare add that he noticed mostly anything that was related to the Samoan. "Well?"

"That's Adam. He complimented me on my lemon tart."

"Adam?" Dean repeated. "You're on first name basis with him now?"

Roman grinned. "Dean Jonathan Ambrose, are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Pfft. I have nothing to be jealous about."

"Could have fooled me."

Dean gritted his teeth. "You do realise that there are many other people out there who are attracted to me, right?"

"I know," Roman replied good naturedly.

"And you also realise that you're the only one I have my heart set on, right?"

"I know. You're the only one I have my heart set on too so you have nothing to worry. I'm not going to jump into bed with some guy just because he complimented me."

"I complimented you," Dean pointed out. "I said I loved your cream cheese."

"Yeah. But that was after our first date."

"So what does Adam do for a living?"

"I have no idea. I never asked him. Thing is he looks very familiar. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before."

"Maybe he used to be in the same school, same train… lots of possibilities."

"Maybe."

"Look… I'm staying in Room 2001. Come up there after your work. I've left a spare key in your left pocket."

Roman gasped. "When did you leave it there?"

Dean smirked. "While we were talking."

"Are you sure?"

"I can't sleep without you, Roman. Do I have to spell it out?"

"You're lucky I don't make you say the three letter words."

Dean looked him straight in the eyes. "I love you."

His boyfriend nearly dropped his tray of profiteroles. Dean held it. "What… what did you say?"

"I said I love you."

"You said that it'd take a while for you to say it."

"Guess it was easier than I thought."

Roman turned his attention to the pralines in front of him. "I love you too."

"I know." Dean pinched his butt cheek before walking towards John who was trying to flirt with the CEO of Walsh Supermarkets.

The sight of that made him want to hurl.

"Those profiteroles as good as your lemon tarts?"

Roman turned around and smiled at Adam. "Yeah, they are. I had good feedbacks so far."

Adam grabbed the one from Roman's hand and popped it in his mouth. "You're right. These are good."

"Thank you."

"You know… this may seem highly inappropriate given our status here but… did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are… how beautiful?"

Roman froze mid way as he was about to place the last praline on the stand. That voice…

"Why are we stopping here?" Roman asked nervously.

The Jaguar was facing the view of the ocean; he realised they were on a cliff. He was a long way from home. Mr Grey - as he wanted to be known - slid his arms around Roman's shoulder. "Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?"

"...No."

"You are," he said as he bent down to kiss Roman's cheek before making his way to his mouth. "So beautiful."

"Something the matter?"

Roman blinked his eyes when Adam asked him that question. "No. I uh… have to head back to the kitchen."

"Of course. Don't let me hold you back too long. I got to admit I was jealous that auburn haired guy took up your time."

Dean.

Roman had to tell Dean; he'd know what to do.

"He was just curious about pastries," he said.

"Hmmm…"

Roman excused himself and made a beeline for the entrance to the back of the house where Dean intercept him as he entered. "How did you-"

"I told you I notice everything," Dean reminded him. His boyfriend's eyes seemed to be staring into his soul. "What's wrong?"

"Dean… I know Adam."

"Of course you do, Roman. He complimented you for your lemon tarts."

"No. I mean I know who Adam is. Dean… that's my rapist."

A/N I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for the favorites/follows/reviews. I appreciate each and every one and I wish I can give you a big hug!