Title: Wanting
Rating: M
Summary: It was simple, really. But complex.
Type of fic: Vignette
Disclaimer: All known entities are not mine. Most, if not all, will probably belong to Vince McMahon, WWE, and whoever else has rights to them.
Distribution: Just ask. :D
Author's notes: Inspired by Heart's 'All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You'. I've always liked this song, and was driving one night when I heard it on the radio and really listened to it, and went "Fic idea!", so there you go.

***

Wanting

They had named him Connor. The perfect name. It meant "much wanted" in Gaelic.

Blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and a charmingly cheeky grin that lit up his face. He was six months old, and he was beautiful. It was not difficult to imagine him growing into a devastating handsome man.

He gazed down at the gurgling toddler, an ache deep in his chest. It was his first time to see him. The baby's bright eyes stared happily back up at him. It was almost like looking into a mirror.

He swallowed hard, his eyes moving from child to mother. 'He's perfect.'

Her eyes expressed it all. 'He is.'

*

Fifteen months earlier…

'Are you…are you sure about this?'

'Yes.' She spoke with conviction.

Yet, he hesitated. 'I-'

'No, don't. Look around. There's just you and me, and nobody and nothing else. Don't complicate things. Just for tonight.'

He gazed down at her searching for any sign of deceit, and was comforted to find none. He needed only to look into her eyes. It never failed to reveal everything to him. 'Just for tonight,' he repeated.

She smiled softly up at him, hand reaching up to caress his cheek. 'Do you know how beautiful you are?'

He answered by dipping his head to capture her mouth with a kiss. The first of many.

Just for tonight.

*

He woke, and felt the loss immediately. There was no warm body beside his. He knew that she would never have stayed. Staying meant complications.

A tightness clenched at his heart, but he forced it back. He had known what was going to happen, and he could have stopped it if he had wanted to. He hadn't. He wanted to hate her, to hate himself for his weakness. Yet he found that he couldn't.

Last night was nothing more than memory, never to be relived but always to be remembered.

It hurt more than he realised.

*

He had watched as the months progressed, her joy growing with the size of her stomach. She did indeed glow, and all around her were affected. They were happy for her, with her. Her friends and family. The wrestlers and the crew.

Her husband.

And him. He portrayed the elated bestfriend well. Nobody knew. Nobody suspected. Why should they?

*

'Hey.'

She was clearly exhausted, but it didn't dampen her elation. She smiled at him. 'Hey.'

'I take it everything went okay?' he asked, though knew there was really no need.

'Everything went perfectly.'

He kept silent for a moment, unable to look her directly in the eyes. 'I'm glad.'

'Did you see him?' she asked softly.

'No. Chris is with him.' He hesitated, not sure of how to continue. 'I don't think I can stay.'

'What are you…?' She trailed off. She knew him.

'I just need to get away, just for a while.' He felt a light touch on his arm, and he finally looked at her once again.

She had sat up. 'I don't know what to say.'

He smiled sadly at her. 'There is nothing to say.'

She moved her hand from his arm to his face, gently touching his cheek. 'I wish things were different, that I wasn't in love with Chris, that one night-' She broke off, a catch in her throat.

It took all of his willpower to keep his emotions down. Despite the ominousness of her words, he knew that she would never regret what she had done. What they had done.

He reached up and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently before placing releasing it on the hospital linen. 'I'll keep in touch.'

'You'd better.'

He chuckled softly, knowing that authoritarian tone well. 'I will.' He gazed at her for a moment, imprinting her face in her mind. 'I love you, Steph.'

Her eyes expressed it all. 'I know, Adam.'

end.