They're back!

Okay, first things first, thanks to everyone who is still with this pairing. It was my longest story and my first series so it means a lot to me, which means that so do you guys!

In this installment we are back in the wrestling world (been too long I know) and as much as I hated the Crack In The Shield storyline, I still thought it would kinda cool to do…

Hopefully you agree!

Who's Afraid Of The Big Bad Vince

The idea for the night – as it generally always was whenever the Wyatt boys were involved – was to simply try and fly under the radar, which generally meant staying back and out of sight.

Some nights that meant sticking with Stephanie in gorilla surrounded by people and keen production crew, other nights it meant camping out in the office with Hunter almost physically glued to my side. One night it had meant being locked in The Shield's dressing room, but it always, always meant keeping well back.

Not that Bray had shown much interest since the night Dean had beaten him not fair but square. He'd simply wandered off to cast his eyes on other targets which had then finally worked their way back around. This time he wasn't so interested in me but he did want The Shield boys which meant coming in close.

For my part I was more happy to be hustled from his clutches and I had assumed the pay-per-view would be much the same thing. To be honest I had hoped to be locked in a sky box – somewhere comfy where I could snack and rest my feet – but within half an hour of hitting the building, it became clear there was a new plan.

I didn't like it at all.

"You – ," I stuttered, blinking in horror and trying to comprehend the words I wish I hadn't heard, "You want me to go out there? With them? To ringside?"

"That's right," Vince replied, with a thin little smile, not even flinching at my tones of sheer panic and expressing the emotional range of a subterranean lizard man.

I had read a theory once before that the earth's hollow core was actually inhabited by a race of upright, sentient reptiles who would one day rise up and enslave us all. To be honest I'd never really paid much notice, but with Vince sitting so coolly it was suddenly a hard notion to ignore. Wherever the man went, confusion seemed to follow and although in the few short months we'd been relatives we had managed to build up a cordial rapport, it was moments like this that I starkly remembered that we were still essentially strangers after all. No one could ever predict his next notion or whether it would be brilliant or totally mad.

This one – I thought – fell into that last box.

It was crazy.

Insane.

No way could I go out there.

Fortunately however I wasn't alone on that one because evidently my father was of the same mind.

"Uh, Vince?" he started as I gold-fished at the pair of them, "What do you mean by ringside, here? Do you want her to act as valet for The Shield? Because the last time she was out there at the same time as the Wyatts, they basically tried to drag her off. If Steph hadn't got out there and nailed Bray with the sledgehammer, things might have been different. Lauren might not be here."

I shuddered a little at the bluntness of his statement, as I generally did looking back on that night. Both sets of eyes flickered over to me briefly but then slid back as if nothing was wrong,

"I want her on commentary," Vince supplied succinctly and Hunter frowned at him,

"On commentary? Why?"

"Because we've been seeing a downturn in viewers from the female demographic. We're losing ground. Yes – granted – they watch Total Divas, but we want to turn them back onto the main network shows. We need someone that will represent those people. The ordinary women whose partners already watch. We need someone who will be a voice for them – who will say what they're thinking – ,"

"You think Lauren is right for that?"

As hurt as I was by my father's incredulity, I was also hurt by not having a say. Did I even really need to be there if they were simply going to talk over my head? I had only popped in to the office to say hello to the pair of them and yet suddenly there I was in a game of management chess.

Commentary?

Me?

The whole idea was horrible and I could only imagine what Dean was going to say.

"Potentially, yes," Vince continued flatly, "Her approval ratings are universally good and the response when she's at ringside is positive for the most part. The fans just like her, they see her as natural and that is something I can put to use. It could be good for business. Don't you want that?"

The last part of the sentence was directed back my way and left very little room for an answer besides yes. Dutifully I nodded my head a little, although my spoken reply was halting,

"Um, sure – I guess."

"See? She's on board."

"Well I'm sorry Vince," Hunter replied darkly and I could have kissed him for it, "But I'm not and considering that I'm both her father and her employer, I think I get to have the final word. She isn't doing it. Not tonight. Not with the Wyatts out there as well."

In response I let out the breath I had been holding and sank back into the folds of the chair. Finally someone was cutting through the bullshit.

Thank you universe.

Thank you dad.

"Oh come on son," Vince bit back sharply, with the nickname sounding more mocking than warm, "Where is safer than the commentary table? Surrounded by security and ex-wrestlers – ,"

And Michael Cole.

"Vince – ,"

"Look, I know you want to protect her, alright? I understand that. I mean, she's my family too."

"Hardly," I muttered without pausing to censor and as the cold eyes swung my way, I bit my lip and shrank down.

Crap.

"Besides," Vince continued, impressively fluidly, "If this whole idea is so god damn dangerous, then why did Stephanie suggest it at all?"

That made my ears prick up.

In a big way.

"Stephanie?" I spluttered, beating Hunter to it, "Wait a minute, this was her idea?"

Vincent McMahon folded arms across his pinstripe and nodded somewhat smugly,

"Certainly was – ah, here she is."

As if they were working on some sort of telepathy or a familial bond from the hollow earth world, my stepmother swung open the door without knocking and strode in purposefully with John Bradshaw Layfield in tow.

Oh god.

I stifled a groan and shot her a glower as I realized that the pair of them had everything worked out. Vince would lay the groundwork like the corporate bad guy and then Stephanie would swoop in and make it all seem okay. Granted though, I hadn't expected company, so JBL was kind of a surprise. Evidently they were going all out to convince me and that in itself would make it hard to say no.

Generally speaking, answers in the negative were not ones the McMahon family usually heard.

"I take it you told them then?" Stephanie surmised quickly as she drank in the swirling apprehension in the room,

"Yes he did," Hunter sighed back at her, "Gotta say Steph, I don't like it one bit."

Clearly having expected as much, she held her hands up, not giving an inch.

"I know, I know, but just hear me out. Trust me Hunter, I have a plan. Now, having the Wyatts out there isn't ideal – ,"

I blinked at her.

Ideal?

It was the worst and to make sure they realized that I was still there with them, I snorted in disgruntlement as she briefly paused for breath,

"You can say that again."

She didn't, as it turned out.

"But since last year they've been as good as their word and they've stopped following Lauren. They've left her alone. I really think their obsession is over, so there's no reason she won't be safe to be at ringside anymore."

"Steph," Hunter put in with tones of astonishment, "They kidnapped her, they hit me with a car. Normal rules don't apply to the Wyatts which is why I don't want them near her again. In fact, I don't want them near any of us. If I had my way, they wouldn't be working here at all."

"But it isn't your way Hunter," Vince responded icily, "It's my way. It's still my company you know."

The pointed reminder made the room fall oddly silent and I couldn't deny it was as awkward as hell. I was essentially sitting in the middle of a family argument and although it was my family – well, I mean, sort of – I still didn't feel like I had enough weight with them to interject and shut it all down. John Bradshaw Layfield however, didn't have the same concerns and as the frostiness in the room dropped a notch cooler, he cleared his throat and stepped forward with a frown,

"Sir," he began at both Vince and Hunter which was impressive since they were standing on opposite sides of the room, "I hope you both know that I'm a company man and I just want to say that if Lauren joins us on commentary, then I will personally give you my word to keep her safe. Hell, if it comes down to it, I'll put my life on the line."

I blinked.

Um, too much feller.

Hunter agreed,

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Which it won't because – like I said – she's not doing it."

Sensing that his position was becoming entrenched rapidly, Stephanie moved almost sylphlike across the room, stopping to wrap her hands around his bicep and trace tiny soothing patterns into his arm. In a strange sort of way it was like watching me with Dean and I wondered if all wrestlers like the pinky-finger-skin-drawing thing.

"Sweetie, this could be a really interesting avenue, for us and Lauren, don't you think? We were the ones that put her out there Hunter and now the fans have bitten, we need to follow through. Naturally we don't want her getting in the ring, but some commentary now and then – very, very rarely – could be a nice way to keep her hand in. Plus I know the fans would love to hear her and she's bound to enjoy it. Lauren? Don't you think?"

Realizing that the final part of the sentence had been directed my way, I stuttered,

"I – I don't – ,"

"Besides," Steph continued as if I hadn't even spoken, which I sort of hadn't, "She won't be alone. As well as JBL and The King there's security and I think you're forgetting she's going to have The Shield. Those guys aren't going to let anything bad happen to her. Especially not Dean. Do you trust them Lauren? Do you trust to keep you safe?"

Damn.

It was literally the one question I could never say no to and she knew it as well, the crafty little minx. Slowly and reluctantly, I nodded my head back at her and from the way her eyes brightened, it was like I'd signed in blood. Vince too seized on the gesture as approval and in a second they were double-teaming like an odd familial tag.

"There you go Hunter, Lauren's happy."

"Um, I don't think happy is exactly the word I'd use – ,"

"Not a problem," Vince shrugged back at me, "The important thing is you're doing it at all. You're taking one for the company tonight and I appreciate that. Believe me I do."

Frowning a little as the situation slipped away from him Hunter stepped forward and held a hand up,

"Now hold on a minute – ,"

Stephanie intercepted him, leaning in closer and tightening her hold.

"Hunter, sweetie, it's just for one night and we'll have a camera on her the whole time. If I see anything – anything – dangerous, then I'll have her taken out of there. I give you my word."

Hunter's eyes slid back to me slowly, drinking in my combination of bafflement and alarm. Honestly, I wasn't really sure how to feel. Except perhaps blindsided by McMahon wiles and charm. But in essence I had somehow agreed to join commentary during a match between my boyfriend and the man who had – not four months earlier – abducted me and mowed my father down. It wasn't an ideal scenario for anyone but apparently it was done.

I couldn't go back now.

"Lauren? You okay?" he asked me gently and knowing that it would only make things more difficult if I responded with a snort or perhaps even a sob, I simply offered him a patented false smile and stood with a sigh,

"Who me? Um, yep. Fine. Guess I'd better go and tell the others though. You know, so it doesn't come as such a surprise."

What I meant by that was obvious to everyone.

I'll need to go and calm my nuclear boyfriend down.

Stephanie smiled back at me and then swept me in one-handed, pulling me close for a grateful sideways hug.

"You are going to be amazing at this sweetie."

I smiled back thinly,

"Well, I guess we can only hope."

Inching towards the door, I turned on the threshold and gave them what I intended to be a chirpy little shrug. Instead I think it came out more lopsided and from the frown on Hunter's face, I clearly looked unhinged.

"Lauren – ,"

"It's fine, I'll see you all later. JBL, save me a chair out there."

Then without another word, I slid from the office and back out into the maze of white corridors. Well, I say I slid from the office, I actually got my pullover stuck on the door. It took perhaps eight awkward seconds to extract it, during which time the rest of them simply stood and stared. Fortunately however none of them followed me and I was free to turn and stalk off along the hall. My lungs began heaving the second I was free of them. My mind racing fiercely as I headed for the locker rooms. I didn't really even know what I was most afraid of. Commenting on the matches or being out there with Bray? Neither of those thing appealed to me remotely and thinking about them jointly made my chest seize up.

By the time I pushed against the door of The Shield's dressing space, I was practically wheezing I was so full of alarm and on hearing my arrival, three faces looked across at me, one stepping forward with palpable concern,

"Lauren? Hey, what's going on? Why're you outta breath? You run here or somethin'?"

"Dean – ," I puffed, reaching out to grab hold of him and letting him push me down onto a bench, "Vince wants – commentary – Hunter's not happy – didn't know what to do."

He stared back at me for close to ten seconds and then nodded slowly,

"Uh huh. How about in English now?"

"Vince wants me on commentary,"

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"He wants me out there during your match."

Your match with the Wyatts.

Suddenly he understood.

"He wants what? No Lauren, not okay. No chance in hell am I lettin' that go down. What's wrong with him? Does he even remember what happened last time? We only just got you away from those bastards. No fuckin' way am I lettin' them near you again."

As Dean spoke – okay, ground out – the sentence he was stalking restlessly round and round the room, tracking a groove between the lockers and the doorway and frantically combing his hands through his hair. He'd already wet it in preparation for show time and so the action sent out a fine sheen of drops. It made him look ridiculously sexy although the look was offset by him being so cross.

Still hot though.

Lauren focus.

It was definitely not the time for getting aroused.

From over the by the door – in frustration or for the release of it – Dean kicked his bag and gruffly yelled fuck. It was swiftly followed by a further string of cuss words and a bit more angry kicking until finally Seth stood up,

"Hey," he snapped, "Look man, calm down. We'll figure this out, okay?"

"Figure it out how?"

"I don't know, we'll talk to Hunter or Stephanie, make them get Vince to change his mind."

I took a breath,

"Um, yeah, that's no good. Hunter was there when Vince told me about it and – uh – turns out, it was sort of kinda Stephanie's idea."

"Of course it was," Dean shot back bitterly, "I shoulda guessed it would fuckin' be her."

His swirling animosity towards my stepmother made me frown slightly, but I understood why. When I had turned up six months earlier and made the bold claim that Hunter was my dad, Stephanie in particular had taken it quite badly. Which is the nice way of saying she tried to have me killed.

Well, sort of.

Since then, luckily, the two of us had grown closer to the point where I classed our relationship as good. I actually liked her and I knew she liked me as well. We were more than vague relatives, we were actually friends.

Dean however had never forgiven her and due to a combination of factors – including the fact that she was married to his boss – had continued to treat her with an element of apathy, which included holding her at a very obvious arm's length. Not that it didn't work both ways. Dean Ambrose wasn't Stephanie's favorite guy either.

Nor was he Hunter's.

Welcome to my world.

"What did she say baby girl?" asked Roman, his big deep baritone soothing us all. As they all turned to look at me I shrugged, newly awkward and tried to think back to some of what I'd heard.

You know, over the internalized screaming of oh god.

"Something about me connecting with the viewers and needing to get more women to watch. Vince thinks the fans – well, he said they like me. They were talking about the business, that sort of stuff."

"But you didn't agree to it," Seth pressed, "Right?"

I froze a little,

"Um, about that – ,"

Dean let out a long suffering groan,

"I knew it. You agreed to do this shit didn't you? Jesus Christ Lauren. What the fuck?"

"Well, I mean, I didn't really agree to it. Mainly because no one actually asked. They all just started talking like I was doing it and then they said you guys would be out there to keep an eye on me and then JBL said he would – ,"

"Hold it," Seth barked, raising a hand up, "What the hell does he got to do with all of this?"

"Stephanie brought him in to back her up. You know what? It was actually kind of weird. He started going on about being a company guy and protecting me and putting his life on the line."

Which now I had the chance to think about it properly was a decidedly un-reassuring thing to say. In front of me the guys exchanged a look of doubtfulness and Dean snorted bitterly,

"Yeah, wanna bet? If somethin' goes down, he won't do shit for you. Have you seen him whenever anyone steps towards the desk? Guy shoots up like he's sitting on thumbtacks. Only thing he cares about is that stupid fuckin' hat."

As Seth stifled a sudden short bark of laughter and Dean's expression turned murderous in response, Roman cleared his throat in warning and brought the conversation swiftly back around,

"What about your old man? Did he seriously agree to this?"

"Yes and no," I shrugged, "I mean, honestly? I don't really know what even happened in there. One minute I was just saying a quick hi to both of them and the next thing I know I'm apparently doing this. Then Stephanie's there asking me if I trust Dean to protect me – well, not just him but all of you guys – and since I was hardly going to say no to that, I think they kind of took it as an overall yes. Please don't be angry with me Dean. I couldn't help it. How is anyone supposed to say no to Vince?"

The last part of the sentence was directed at my boyfriend, who finally swung his head round to look me in the eyes. On seeing the desperate expression on my features, his shoulders dropped and he let loose a sigh.

"I'm not – ugh – I'm not angry at you Princess. I'm just fuckin' pissed that they want to put you in harm's way. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to wrestle when I'm gonna spend the whole time worryin' about you?"

Standing up I crossed the space towards him and took his taped-up hands in my own.

"So then don't worry," I instructed, more brightly than I felt about it, "Focus on the match. Hey, I'm going to be okay."

Reaching up, I caught his face gently and made him look at me while flashing him a smile. It didn't really work – in fact he rolled his eyes at me – but his hands came round to cradle my hips and he pulled me in closer before dropping down a kiss.

"If anythin' happens to you – ,"

"It won't."

"Besides man," Seth chipped in, "We'll be out there too. We've got your back, alright? Both of you guys. If Wyatt wants to put his hands on either one of you, then he'll have to go through us."

Roman nodded,

"Damn straight."

Sucking in a deep breath and winding an arm around me – in the process pinning me tight to his chest – Dean clawed back a semblance of sanity and nodded reluctantly,

"Guess I don't have a fuckin' choice."

As a confidence booster – or simply through habit – Seth stuck out a resolutely gloved fist, waiting for his teammates to respond to the action, which one by one they slowly did. The movement made the belief rise tenfold and I blinked at the almost mystical effect.

When the three of them were together and united, they made for a ridiculously formidable team and as the door to their private locker room creaked open, the eyes they turned towards it almost made me shake. Fortunately however – or maybe unfortunately – the man who glared back at us didn't even blink. What he did do however was look down at me coldly before smirking a little,

"Thought I'd find you here."

It wasn't a particularly friendly expression – mainly because he wasn't a friendly guy – and seeing the narrowed little eyes sweeping across me, Dean bristled instantly,

"What the fuck do you want?"

It was a pretty redundant question.

What the hell did he ever really want?

Somewhere in the shuffle of me joining the company and feuding with the Wyatts almost six months ago, my father had recruited a Director of Operations, who it turned out was a former wrestler called Kane.

Now naturally – being a total wrestling newbie – I hadn't had the first idea who he was and so our very first meeting had gone pretty badly when I had greeted him cheerily but completely blank-faced. Evidently, that hadn't sat well with him and he'd made it his business to frighten the crap out me ever since.

Nothing major – he wasn't sending cockroaches – but he just kind of stared, or would suddenly jump out. I could be carrying water back to one of the dressing rooms and he would randomly appear from out of thin air, smirking across the distance at me smugly and then being all sweetness when my father was near.

Kane was an arrogant, unpleasant bully.

To put it mildly, the pair of us weren't close.

Nor for that matter, were he and The Shield, which was sometimes pretty awkward given that he was technically their boss. It was a dislike completely displayed in Dean's question and in response Kane growled but then fought it back down. He looked a little like a werewolf in a business suit, feeling the full moon and trying not to change and that was an image that was so overwhelming, that I was still busy thinking it when his rough tones rang out,

"Vince wants you out there now."

I blinked cluelessly and then seized up when I realized he was looking at me.

Huh?

Did they seriously expect me to go out there solo? The last time that had happened, I'd be set on by The Rhodes' and as a result of that little disaster I'd been coming out through the audience with The Shield ever since. Sometimes I even came out with Steph or Hunter or the entire damn Authority once or twice.

At the very least I was always accompanied by someone.

Why did it have to be different tonight?

"She's comin' out with us," Dean glared back darkly, almost as if he was reading my mind, "I don't give a fuck what anybody else wants. It's not up for discussion. Hell, I'll tell Vince myself. He in the office? Maybe I'll drop in on him. See the two of us can't hash this thing out."

He stepped towards the corridor – deliberately leadingly – and in response Kane quickly held out a meaty paw. Dean's eyes glinted gleefully in response to it and he smirked an eerie smile.

No?

Kane glared back.

No.

"Just get her to the god damn commentary table."

Dean grinned back thinly,

"Sure thing boss."

Then with a final glower of resentment – mercifully, reluctantly – Kane backed off.

The second the door had slammed shut behind him, I let out a tense and pent-up little breath. The air in the room had soured again rapidly and the earlier confidence had essentially worn off.

Seeing my drooping shoulders, Dean pulled me close again, rubbing my arms briskly,

"Princess, you'll be fine."

It was a total role-reversal from just a few moments earlier and in response to it I nodded and tried to look poised.

"Uh huh, I know – totally fine. Feeling good. No worries at all."

Dean raised a brow at me but thankfully said nothing and as the sombre mood continued, Seth suddenly clapped his hands. He often stood in as their stable's in-house pep squad and at the sense of deflation, he took the reins again, pacing around the room and physically shoving Roman, who reeled back a few steps but didn't punch him flat.

Which kind of surprised me.

Would I ever work men out?

"We ready, huh?" Seth demanded roughly, getting so pumped up I thought he might burst, "Are we ready to go out there and kick some Wyatt ass, huh? We ready to show them that no one messes with us?"

Dean and Roman nodded back resolutely and it was usually at that point that I would buzz too. This time however, the sentence made me shiver and my blood ran cold as I realized it was time.

In just a few minutes I would be doing live commentary.

What in the world could possibly go wrong?

Well, what do you think might possibly go wrong? Maybe nothing and everyone has a great night and goes home singing happy songs? No? Why not?

Let me know what you're thinking and I'll see you lovely people in three days time!