A/N: Hey everyone! So this was originally only supposed to be a one shot, but I wrote and wrote and wrote until I had no choice but to split it into 2 chapters. I'm not quite sure what gave me this idea, I just love snow and our lack of it up to yet this winter just brought it to mind I guess. I really fail at summaries, so hopefully you'll all give this a chance and read on. It does get better. At least I hope it does! Anyway, here comes the first part. Hope you enjoy, please don't forget to leave feedback, good or bad! I'll update with the second part as quickly as possible.

Let It Snow

I pulled my car into the arena, or should I say, skidded. The weather was awful. I'd never seen a snow storm like this... but living in Florida for the majority of my life, I'd never seen snow full stop unless I'd been travelling. Even then, it had only been flurries. But thanks to the crazy people who had decided it was a good idea for us to perform in Chicago during winter, I'd seen enough to last a lifetime. Not to mention it had made me far too late for work.

The wheels of my car screeched as they tried to break on the snow, but with a shrug, I didn't bother to reverse into the space. I wasn't the only one parked out of line, that was for sure. After switching off the exhaust, I literally jumped outside, only just managing to keep upright as I slipped and slid to the boot, pulling out my gear for the night before I made my way inside as quickly as possible.

I smiled and waved at the familiar security guard, who nodded my way in return. His name was Bob. Yeah, Bob the bodyguard... awesome right? We had the same greeting every single time, and I barely knew anything about him other than his name, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.

After squeezing past Bob, my eyes flittered around the corridors that looked far too similar to the ones I had been in only days before. The one thing I didn't like about my job was that everywhere I went, no matter where in the world, every arena looked the same.

Well, that and the fact that I was crazily in love with my best friend, who I also just happened to work with... but we'll get to that part later.

"Quinn, thank god you're here."

I span around, my eyes wide as I heard the gruff voice of my boss. Vince McMahon wasn't one for roaming the corridors, searching for his staff. If he wanted you, you were summoned to his office, so I had to admit that I was more than surprised when he stopped beside me, his hands finding my shoulders.

"Barely anyone has been able to get here tonight because of the storm. Out of our ladies, it looks like it's only going to be you and Natalya. Do you think the two of you could put something together in the next half an hour? We can't afford not to have a Divas match tonight."

I scrunched my face up. Half an hour didn't give us much time at all, but we were both skilled in the ring. I'm sure we'd be able to have a half decent match by the time he needed us to go out there. Besides, it couldn't be worse than what we girls had had to put up with as of late, anyway.

"I'm sure we can... as long as our match gets to last longer than 5 minutes," I threw my bag over my shoulder, never breaking eye contact with Vince. He was intimidating, any wrestler would tell you the same thing, but I wasn't scared of him. I couldn't be if I wanted to stay successful in this business.

"10?"

"20, and not a minute less," I shook my head, "You said you're struggling for performers tonight, so won't us having a longer match help with more than one problem?"

"I suppose so," He nodded my way sharply, and I couldn't help but smirk in victory, "But if you botch this up, there are no more chances."

I rolled my eyes as he began to walk away from me without a word. Typical Vince, he always had to have the last laugh. With a sigh I span around, ready to move along and find my opponent for the night... but I stopped in my tracks, an embarrassing yip leaving my lips at just how close the person who'd stopped me was standing.

"Did I scare you?" He asked with a ridiculous smirk that automatically made me feel weak at the knees... but he was never going to know that. Instead I shot him a glare, pushing his t-shirt clad chest a few steps away from me before I spoke.

"No, you just... surprised me, that's all," I added, watching as his amused look grew. I felt like smacking him upside the head, but instead I just raised my brow his way, "I see you got here okay."

"That's because I live here, Quinn." He chuckled lightly, shaking his head back and forth.

"Whatever, Phillip." I knew calling him by his full name would earn me some points. He hated when I used it. In fact, I barely ever even spoke to him using his real name. Mainly I just called him Punk, which he'd been happy with for the past two years.

When I'd first debuted in the WWE, the two of us really hadn't seen eye to eye. Maybe it had something to do with us both being big headed, arrogant and frankly horrible human beings... but eh, what can I say? I'm not one for sugar-coating things.

It was around three months into me being there that we finally started to get along. We were forced to work together in a storyline, which the pair of us religiously tried to get out of... but it turned out not to be so bad. It made us realise that the other person was actually okay.

But then, on top of all that, it made me realise just how cute this guy was. And as the months began to pass, and we grew closer as friends, I realised something else, too. Punk, or Phil, or whatever he wanted me to call him, wasn't just that cute guy anymore. He meant a lot more to me than that.

"Hmm," He huffed, before he slowly began to smile my way again, "So a little birdie tells me that you have a potentially great match tonight?"

"Yeah," I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. I had a lot riding on my shoulders tonight, thanks to the snow. I wasn't going to complain, though. If this worked out well, then it could give the Divas division the boost it had needed for far too long.

"Hey," I felt Punk's hand on my shoulder, and it took me too long to realise I'd been staring off into space. My eyes met his, and he smiled my way encouragingly. I couldn't help myself from automatically staring at his mouth. I bit down on my own as my gaze passed over his lip ring, "Don't worry, you're gonna kick ass out there."

"I am, huh?" I shook away my thoughts, grinning his way. He laughed, shaking his head as he squeezed my shoulder lightly before stepping back.

"I'll leave you to sort everything out, but come find me afterwards? I don't think we're gonna be going anywhere soon thanks to the weather, so we can catch up."

"Yeah..." I puffed the air out of my cheeks. Truthfully, I'd hoped to get away from the arena as quickly as possible, so I could at least try to get to the airport before it was too late... but I'd never been able to turn Punk down. Tonight was going to be no different. "Your match is last?"

"Of course," He nodded, patting the belt that hung around his waist happily. I shook my head, but I couldn't not smile. He'd worked so hard to get where he was right now. I was more than proud of him, "I'll see you after?"

"I'll head to your locker room," I nodded quickly, reaching out to squeeze his tattooed forearm lightly before brushing past him, "Good luck out there."

"You too, Quinn." He shouted from behind me, and a small smile appeared on my lips. If Punk believed in me, then I already knew everything was going to be okay.

By the time Raw was rounding up, I was already sat outside of Punk's locker room, my gym bag at my side. I listened to the last few dregs of 'Cult of Personality' fill the arena before it cut off, and my lips pulled up slightly. I felt giddy at the thought of him being there in a few minutes. Not only because he was hot (although come on, a big part of it was because of that) but because I couldn't wait to talk to him about my match.

I ran a hand over my hair, cringing at how uneven my ponytail looked... but what did I expect? I'd just had the longest match of my career; I wasn't exactly going to look perfect. I shrugged my shoulders and wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to keep as warm as possible. Like the idiot that I was when it came to weather, I hadn't packed anything thicker than a small leather jacket, which really wasn't doing the job in keeping me nice and toasty. In fact, it was safe to say I was freezing. I didn't even want to think what it would feel like when I finally had to venture back outside.

"I swear you're the only girl I know who can get ready quicker than I can."

I looked up, a smirk appearing on my face at the familiar voice. Punk stood before me, clad in nothing but his wrestling trunks and boots. His title was slung across his shoulder, and a sheen of sweat covered his entire body. I had to refrain from staring, so I quickly focused on my hands.

"That's probably because I'm the only girl you know," I teased, making sure I composed myself before I took another peek his way. He chuckled, shaking his head my way before he slipped around me and opened up his locker room door. He held it open for a few seconds, staring my way, before he rolled his eyes.

"Are you gonna make me stand here all day?"

"I'd thought about it," I pulled myself to my feet, picking up my bag. I moved to stand in front of him, sending him a cheesy grin before I brushed past him into the room. I heard the door click behind me, and a huge sigh of relief left Punk's lips as he sat down on the leather sofa.

"I'm getting too old for this," He shook his head as he began to unravel the tape on his hands. I span around to watch him, moving to perch on the edge of the sofa. My eyes followed his every movement, never failing to be surprised with how elegant he was.

"Old? Don't be stupid..."

"I'm not being stupid, Quinn. I'm being serious," He looked up from his hands, balling the tape into his fist. His eyes met mine, and I swallowed the lump that appeared in my throat. Why was he looking at me like that? It was like... like he'd never even seen me before. "I'm not a kid anymore. It's time for me to stop messing around. I need to start thinking about settling down."

I had no idea what I was supposed to say. The two of us had had serious conversations in the past, but nothing of this magnitude. Hell, Punk had always joked about the pair of us forever being bachelors... which unless I could have him, I was more than happy with. So why was he being like this? Why the sudden change of heart?

"I thought you liked being this way." I shrugged. It was the best I could think of.

"I did. Things change, I've changed," He returned my shrug, his eyes moving to the bag that sat beside him. His voice was much quieter as he spoke again, "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having someone in my life."

I quickly stood up, turning my back on Punk as I looked around the room and tried to compose myself. I wasn't stupid. There was only one reason he could have been speaking this way... and it was because he'd met someone. I felt my eyes burn, but I forced myself not to cry. There was no way I could do that in front of him, especially now.

Why was this suddenly so hard? A few minutes ago, all I'd wanted to do was sit down with Punk and tell him all about how amazing my match was. Now all I wanted was to curl up in a ball, far, far away from wherever he was.

"I guess it wouldn't be... if you found the right person."

"That's just it. I think I have."

I slowly turned around to face him, expecting him to crack up laughing and tell me this was all one big joke... but I'd never seen him so serious. Wow, I may have had a great match tonight, but this day really sucked ass.

"I'm sorry," He laughed lightly, standing up and moving a little closer to me, "I'm being a completely soppy idiot. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable was the biggest understatement of the year. Deeply depressed would have been a better option.

"No, it's fine," I cleared my throat awkwardly, wondering if I could possibly think up an excuse that would allow me to make a run for it. I began to inch closer to the door, but Punk's words stopped me in my tracks.

"I saw your match. It was amazing. I'd forgotten that girls could wrestle," He teased me with that stupidly perfect grin of his. If it were under any other circumstances, I'd have said something smart in return. Instead I just shrugged his way.

"Yeah, it was great. It felt good, getting to have an actual match again."

"There's no way Vince can ignore your talent after that. Maybe he'll actually start to realise that girls like you and Nattie deserve a chance."

"I really hope so," I nodded his way, but for the first time ever, my heart just wasn't in this conversation. Maybe it was because Punk has just successfully smashed it into a hundred pieces. With a sigh, I moved over to my bag which I'd dropped down on the floor, and picked it back up. I looked towards him, watching as the confused expression appeared on his face. I could tell by his eyes that he was wondering why I wanted to leave so quickly. "I'm sorry, Punk... but I really think I need to get going. The weather is only getting worse, and if I don't leave now I'll never get home."

Home sounded so good right now. Thank god I was going to be there for a few days before we were back on the road. Maybe that'd give me a little chance to pull myself together and stop acting like such a love struck loon. I needed to do it eventually, especially now that the guy I'd crooned over for the last two years had finally found someone.

"Alright, sure," He nodded, scratching the back of his unkempt hair, "At least let me take a quick shower and come help you out? Your car is probably snowed in by now."

I desperately wanted to say no to him... but god damn it, with the look he was sending my way, it was impossible. I hated him. I hated his stupid smile and his perfect face and eurgh... I hated everything about him.

"That'd be great," I smiled his way like a fool, moving back over to the sofa and taking a seat, "I'll just wait here."

With a quick smile my way, Punk picked up his own bag and made his way into the adjourning bathroom. It took barely a minute for the water to begin running, and a sigh left my lips as I thought about leaving there and then. Shaking my head, I pushed myself further into the seat, a sigh escaping my lips. I knew that wasn't gonna happen. Even if Punk had just disappointed me, I could never bring myself to do the same.