Chapter One
Shane Helms, better known to his fans as "The Hurricane" grumbled under his breath as he shoved his "Shazaam" shirt into his bag. He'd had a bad feeling when Vince called him into his office this afternoon before the house show.
"Shane, I need to see you in my office after you get settled in, okay?"
He'd done as the boss asked, dumping his bag into his dressing room and quickly making his way down the hall. After a brief knock he heard Vince's voice, telling him to come in. He opened the door, only to find that the boss wasn't alone. Molly Holly sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. She turned and the look on her face was priceless. She went from, shock to disgust to fury all in a split second. She flipped her hair, once a golden blonde now a rich brown, over her shoulder and lifted her nose ever-so-slightly into the air. Shane grimaced and suddenly wished he'd had the nerve to blow off his bosses order for a meeting.
"Have a seat, Shane" Vince said, gesturing to the leather armchair next to Molly. Ignoring the evil looks he was getting from the diva, he sat, making himself comfortable. Vince was immediately all business. "The reason I've asked you both here is because our creative writing team here at RAW has decided to throw you two into a storyline together."
Shane couldn't say he was surprised... hell, you'd have to be a damned idiot not to guess what Vince was gonna say. But that didn't make the reality of what he'd said any easier to deal with.
"What?! You've got to be kidding! I'm sorry, Mr. McMahon, but there is no way I ca---" Molly's temper tantrum was abruptly ended by a steely-eyed glare from Vince.
"Yes, Molly, you can and you will " He turned to Shane."Do have a problem with that?"
Shane shook his head. Great just what he needed: a bitchy companion. he listened with half an ear as Vince explained how the story line was to go. Molly sat there in stony silence, refusing to look at him. What had he ever done to her? She was the one who had betrayed him, not the other way around. Shane was abruptly pulled out of his reverie as he heard the words, "and then Shane, you'll propose in the ring..." Jumping out of his chair so quick that he knocked it over, he looked at Vince in disbelief.
"You're joking, right? No one in their right mind would ask her to marry them. That's like committing emotional suicide!" Molly stood as well, not at all pleased with this turn of events.
"You can't expect me to to actually accept that, right? I mean, there's no way the audience will believe this!"
"Yeah, they know I like leggy blondes, not dumpy brunettes." Molly scowled.
"I take it your blow-up doll has blonde"hair" then, Shane?"
"Go eat a donut!"
"Take a long walk off a short pier!"
"Bite me!"
"Go to hell!"
"ENOUGH!!!!!" VInce roared, slamming his fist down on his desk hard enough to rattle the pencil holder. He glared at the two superstars. They wanted to argue, huh? Act like children? Well, he'd give them plenty of an opportunity to do that.....BEFORE he put them on screen. "Shane, Molly, since you both seem to have a problem with one another, I've arranged for you to spend a week in Conneticut at my personal cottage. Alone. No phones, no television, no link to the outside world other than a radio." He held up a dismissive hand as the both began to speak. "One more word out of either of you and you're both on suspension for the next two months---with no pay." Pleased to see that they had followed his orders, he smiled for the first time since the interview began.
"The plane will leave in about," he checked the expensive Rolex on his wrist, "3 hours. I expect you to be back here by 4pm. Got it?" They each nodded mutely, glaring at one another from across the room. "Good. You're free to go." Vince watched as they each trudged out of the room, chuckling to himself. he really was going to have to say something to Stpehanie about playing "match-maker".
They had parted ways outside the office, neither one saying a word. Back in his locker room, he packed everything that he'd brought with him to the arena and cursed his bad luck. Damnit! Why did shit like this always happen to him? Never to Adam or Jay or Chris. Always him. He grunted, lifting the heavy bag and making his way out to his rental car. He tossed the bag in the backseat and slid in. Closing his eyes, he let his head drop to the steering wheel. He really didn't want this. Not now. Not after spending the last year trying to rebuild everything that she'd broken inside of him. Oh yeah, he'd been in love with her, alright. But she hadn't loved him...not the way she said she did. Why else would he have caught her packing her bags and leaving their hotel room, screaming at him that she had never loved him, and he didn't know the first thing about her. Remembering brought back old hurts and Shane idley rubbed at his chest, feeling the dull ached that started near his heart. He sat up and started the car, pulling out of the arena. He could get through this...she meant nothing to him now....less than nothing. So why did he keep seeing her angry glare that brought a red warmth to her cheeks in his mind's eye? Why did he keep seeing the way she had pushed back those strands of short curly hair? Or the ways she still licked her lips when she was really nervous?
Stop it! he told himself. He'd just have to make do. He could get through this week, no problem. He snickered, pulling into the hotel parking lot. Yeah, right. And if you believed that bullshit, he had a piece of oceanfront property in Arizona he wanted to sell you.
Trudging toward her room, Molly let out a sigh. How could Mr. McMahon do this to her? He could've put her with anyone, anyone except Shane. Visions from their past floated through her mind: the first time they'd met, when they started their storyline together, admitting that they had feelings for each other. Then that awful night everything had come crashing down around her. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the horrible memories, as she slid her card into the lock. Entering the room, she gasped with astonishment upon seeing the three dozen yellow roses (her favorite) adorning the room. Slowly setting down her bag, she wandered around, stopping occasionally to smell the beautiful blooms. Spying a card lying on the desk, she hurried over. Her name was typed on the outside. Impatiently ripping it apart, Molly read it.
Molly,
What went wrong?
Love you still,
Me
Frowning, Molly tried to figure out who could have sent them. Could it be Jericho? Naw, he was too much of a cheapskate to spring for roses. Besides, they'd only been out on a couple of dates and nothing had really come of it. Maybe Jay then. Her best friend was notorious for over-the-top gestures. But he wouldn't have closed the note with "Love you still". She sat down at the desk, thinking of different people. When she finally looked up, she realized that 30 minutes had passed and she had only 20 minutes left to take a shower and get ready to meet Shane for.....
Wait! she thought. That's it! It's got to be Shane! She chewed her lip nervously as she quickly gathered her stuff for a shower. But what if it wasn't? She couldn't say something to him if he hadn't sent the roses...then she'd look like a jackass. Sighing she turned the shower on full blasting hot water from the shower head --- unusually HOT water. yelping in surprise, Molly pulled out her hand, noticing the skin already starting to raise on her palms where the water had scolded her. Cursing loudly, she quickly ran to the sink, running cold water over it. After a few moments and a few gauze pads, Molly put on a glove and got in the shower, hurrying to be sure she got to the arena on time. She toweled off,opted to forgo make-up and threw on a pair of low-rise jeans and a black button up shirt. Flipping her hair upside-down, she quickly dried and ran a comb through it. Sliding her feet into a pair of combat boots, she grabbed her luggage and headed to the door, grabbing her key card on the way out. Almost as an afterthought, she reached out and plucked one of the roses from a vase. Might as well enjoy it while I can she thought. Molly reached into her pocket, digging out her only necklace, a gift from her late mother. Stepping into the elevator, she quickly fastened the chain holding the heavy marcasite cross around her neck. As the doors started to close, a hand shot through the opening.
"Hold the elevator!" Molly groaned. She knew that voice. Pretty well, too since it had haunted her almost every night for the last year. Shane quickly shoved into the elevator, seemingly not noticing the only other occupant.
"Whew! Thanks! I've got somewhere I REALLY gotta be-----" Turning to see Molly standing before him, arms crossed and a frown marring her adorable features, he groaned.
"Aw damnit! Not you! Isn't it bad enought that I've got to spend an entire week with you? Now I have to share an elevator?" Molly huffed, uncrossing her arms and placing them angrily on her hips.
"Listen, asshole, I'm just as upset about this whole thing as you are, so don't start with me, okay? It's not as if I want to send a week with you." Turning to face the wall, she muttered, "Dick." How could she have ever believed that her "admirer" could be him? Shane glared at her from his side of the elevator. Opting to keep his mouth shut for the moment, he silently waited to get to the ground floor. As soon as the doors opened, they both rushed forward, meeting at the door.
"Would you move it?"
"Me? Why should I move? You move!"
"Because ladies go first, moron!" At this, Shane snorted.
"You gotta be a lady first, babe!" Molly made a face and squeezed past him, ignoring the zaps of electricity she got upon touching him. Her back to him, she made her way through the lobby to the front doors.
"Fuck you, Helms." Shane grinned, knowing that she couldn't see him. Slowly following after her, he muttered under his breath, "Not in a million years, babe. Not in a million years."
• Chapter Two •
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