The packed red London bus trundled through the grey streets on a rainy Monday morning in November, its weary occupants in various states of boredom. Some trying to read newspapers, turning pages with difficulty with elbows close to their sides. Others plugged into iPods, tinny music blasting out annoying their seat neighbour, while loud obnoxious schoolchildren barged their way down the stairs, opening the emergency exit and piling out on to the pavement much to the chagrin of the driver. Rain lashed against the grimy steamed up windows as the bus made its slow way towards the centre of town.

Autumn Burrows anxiously looked at the time on her phone. 09.07. Shit, shit, shit she muttered to herself becoming increasingly frustrated. Late for work again. She dreaded the conversation she would have to have with her boss if he caught her before she slipped quietly into her workstation desk. Already having travelled for an hour, her commute to work was mind-numbing as was the job, straight forward office admin. It paid OK though, enough to fund a room in a shared house in a nice part of North London, run a small car, she could afford to shop at the usual high street stores and have nights out with her friends and holidays - you know, the usual things that single, twenty five year old girls do.

At this rate, she wouldn't get to the office in Covent Garden before 09.45, and that was pretty late. Wondering what excuse to come up with, Autumn realised that she had probably exhausted most of them during the past three years! Bad traffic was probably not going to cut it even though this time it was the truth.

She texted her friend and colleague, Iona who sat at the next desk. "Late again! Is the boss in his office?"

Beep. "Yes, and he's already asked if I've seen you yet!" was the reply.

"Fuuuck! This bus is hardly moving, it will be ages before I get in... What did you say?" She texted back.

Beep. "That you were probably in the kitchen. Lol" Iona replied.

"Can you keep him distracted?" Autumn texted hopefully.

Beep. "I'll do my best," came the response.

It was one of those mornings when you wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else, on a beach somewhere, or going out for breakfast then shopping, or at the very least still lying under the duvet watching reruns of old American sitcoms. Dread started to fill Autumn's heart at the thought of another dressing down from her boss who was a painful stickler for timekeeping. I mean she never got any credit when she stayed late and surely that ought to counteract being a few minutes late every now and then - well about three times a week actually.

Autumn rubbed at the frosted up window with her coat sleeve to see whereabouts they were, then stared blankly out of it as the bus passed several giant billboards. One of them caught her eye instantly, the muscled torsos of its superstars adorning the sign, their characterful faces with bright colourful outfits staring her down and her stomach flipped - 'WWE returns to the UK this November! Get your tickets now!' She tried to shut her mind off, shutting it off from the flashbacks of heavenly blue eyes burning into her very soul, strong hands holding her down, lips caressing her skin, whispers of passion in her ear...

Only at night, when the longing and desire overpowered her did she allow herself to think about what had occurred one balmy evening in May, when Iona, who was in her mid thirties had asked, no actually begged, her to come to the O2 arena to see a WWE show with her and Quinn, who was five and eight year old Freddie because her husband had been called off on business and she didn't want to go on her own. With absolutely no interest at all but feeling a), obliged because Iona was such a good friend and b), because she had been asked out by the office nerd that evening and was again running out of excuses, Autumn found herself waiting outside the main entrance of the venue for Iona and her children who were driving up from South London.

She watched amused at the throng of people milling about, loads of kids all dressed in colourful T-shirts and wristbands but surprisingly lots of fully grown men and women in the same gear. 'Strange', she thought, adding 'Weirdos' and laughing to herself. Big screens flashed and showed clips of superstars in dramatic poses, doing flips and tricks. Strobe lights reached up in to the darkening clear sky, illuminating the white dome of the iconic O2. I hope I don't see anyone I know she thought.

Autumn was dressed smartly but casually, black short Ugg boots, dark skinny jeans, a fitted designer top - the uniform. Her long dark hair left loose, framing her pretty face with minimal make up as she didn't need much to accentuate her clear luminous complexion and big blue eyes.

"Hey, Autumn!" Iona cried, weaving her way through the crowd, holding on to an excited Quinn while Freddie bounced around her pointing at the big screens.

"Hi guys," she replied bending down and hugging the small boys. "Excited to see your umm wrestlers?"

"Ooh yes," replied Quinn. "I'm John Cena! Look," and waving his little hand in front of his face he shouted "You can't see me!" Freddie joined in too.

Iona laughed at Autumn's bewildered face. "You have no idea what they are going on about do you?"

"Not a clue," laughed Autumn. "But they seem to be looking forward to it."

"Can we buy some new T-shirts mummy?" asked Freddie. "I want the new John Cena top!"

"Me too!" shouted Quinn.

"Okay, okay, let's go queue up," promised Iona adding to Autumn shaking her head, "That's the third Cena top they have released in eighteen months! Licence to print money!"

Autumn, holding Quinn's hand followed, the little boy skipping alongside her chattering excitedly.

After a twenty minute wait and £40 pounds worse off, they made their way through to the arena and waited for the show to start. Iona's husband had bought pretty good seats, front row on the corner by the ring and the walkway so the boys could see their heroes up close and maybe even get a souvenir or two.

Settling down, Autumn jumped out of her skin when a huge pyrotechnic flash rang out followed by loud music and two massive bronzed skinned men careered down the ramp in colourful shorts and boots. Gambolling about, touching fans outstretched hands and stopping to high five the younger members of the audience, including to their absolute delight, Freddie and Quinn. Their opponents followed quickly after with equally loud bangs and heavy metal type music, but these were menacing types and were soundly booed soundly by the crowd. This is mental thought Autumn as she sat through match after match, definitely an experience and not exactly boring but ugh far too much baby oil on show. It was a wonder some of them could grapple each other with all that oil on them, she mentioned it to Iona who smiled absently, concentrating on settling a quarrel between her two young boys.

"I want to get some popcorn!" cried Freddie.

"I want diet coke!" added Quinn.

"You can't have diet coke, your too much of a baby to have diet coke," scolded Freddie at Quinn.

"No, I'm not, you're a baby!" and so it went on till Autumn offered to fetch supplies from the bar.

"Hurry back won't you," said Iona, "the main event is starting soon."

"Yes, you don't want to miss John Cena," cried Freddie.

Autumn who was already sick of hearing about John Cena, never mind seeing him, just smiled and promised to be back soon.

Making her way up the stairs to the walkway that encircled the arena with bars, popcorn carts and merchandise stalls she wandered about for a bit stretching her legs, killing time. She had spotted a bar across the way when suddenly lots of security men came through a door and with two long black ropes, roped off a pathway from the plain double security doors to the door to the arena opposite, effectively blocking her path and that of others who started to mill about. Within a few minutes, people had started madly tapping on their phones and soon others started to gather on either side of the ropes, Autumn felt a buzz in the air. Something exciting was going to happen.

The security doors slowly opened and she caught a glimpse of a large figure clad in black riot gear, the crowd went wild chanting and shouting. As he stepped out, she saw he was bronzed, tattooed and muscular with long glossy black hair and perfect features but he looked serious, intense even. The next figure to appear, clad in the same black gear was nearly as tall and just as bronzed but less big, very fit and toned with half black and half blond hair holding a bottle of water and shaking it out over his head. This is getting better thought Autumn, no bloody baby oil and these were more her type, if you liked that sort of thing she added to herself.

She was about to turn away when the door opened a third time and out strode another black clad figure, this one was blonde and blue eyed. His every movement screamed of total and utter confidence in himself, or was it arrogance? Autumn's mouth dropped open as she surveyed every inch of his muscular, golden figure.

Oblivious of the crowd's chanting, the three paced about, bending and stretching their muscles, occasionally high fiving a lucky fan. The golden one, his dirty blond hair slicked back, giving him a particularly menacing air stood right next to Caitlin and dropped to the ground beside her, easily doing ten press ups, impressively not only using just his fingertips but also clapping his hands between each one.

Despite his press up performance being one of the sexiest things she had seen in a while, and believe me, it had been a while, Autumn muttered "Showoff," to herself then clapped a hand over her mouth when she saw that he had heard her. His head cocked up and he jumped to his feet quickly. He took a long slow step towards her, the crowd around her 'oohing', he cricked his neck back and forth, then tilted his head to one side smirking. Autumn gasped and stepped back but the crowd was behind her, blocking any exit.

"Sorry," she offered. "It just came out, you are really, really good at press ups, really," she rambled, blushing. Why the fuck was she still talking she thought to herself panicking. He took a few seconds to asses her, his blue eyes roaming up and down her body, mentally undressing her. Autumn suddenly felt both hot (in a good way) and uncomfortable under his gaze. Then he let out an amused "huh," then winked, he actually winked at her and turned away just as a blast of loud entrance music hit, following the other two down into the arena.

Autumn turned to her left and spoke to the first person she saw, still in a daze. "Who the fuck were they?" she asked, ignoring the tutting of a father with some kids.

"They," said a fat guy in wearing an assortment of wrestling t shirt, hoodie and baseball cap, "are Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins and the guy you just managed to royally piss off is Dean Ambrose, collectively known as the Shield." Adding with the authority of a wrestling geek, "You don't want to mess with the Shield, especially Dean Ambrose. He's nuts."