Chapter One – Blood, Sweat, and Tears

"You just have to go out there and say a few words. Thank them for the sacrifices they've made. Vince wants you to be sure and mention the company's dedication to all service members, which includes their families. Mention the check. No more than five minutes. Then you have a... Right, you know what to do."

Stephen Farrelly chuckled as his PA sheepishly tucked her phone back into her bag. After so many appearances, he did know what to do. Standing in an empty room of the new building that was being dedicated shortly, he felt uneasy. His tie was too tight, then his jacket. He raked a hand through his hair, ruining the perfectly spiked locks and gaining a groan of disapproval from Lou.

"Sorry, lass," he sighed, dropping into the chair next to her so she could fuss over him properly. He knew he could get it done quicker himself but she referred to herself as his second mother and seemed to enjoy taking care of him. "Ah just get a little nervous when dealin' with military families."

"You'll be fine."

"Sheamus?" The man that peeked into the open door leaned on a cane. Roger Wilson, a retired Marine, bore the scars of his service with a dignity Stephen admired. The shirt he wore was emblazoned with the name of the building. Stephen knew from speaking to him earlier that his wife had been the one with the idea for the center. "They're ready to start now."

Taking a deep breath, he got to his feet. The hall they walked down was empty, still smelling of fresh paint and sawdust. He glanced into the rooms they passed, smiling at the sight of new toys for children that would make use of the daycare. He could almost hear the laughter, the occasional tantrums. As they passed through the lobby he caught sight of the playground through the wall of windows. The reception desk gleamed, reflecting the image of the American flag that hung above it. What touched him most of all, though, was the collage of photos to the left.

Men and women of all ages and races. Some were snapshots of them out of uniform, caught mid-laugh as they enjoyed peaceful moments with loved ones. Others showed them in full dress, faces stoic as they posed for official portraits. Still others showed them while on duty, leaning against tanks or sitting on cots.

Knowing he was about to address the ones they had left behind, he felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and turned to greet the director and members of the board.

When they entered the gymnasium he saw half of the bleachers were full. Children of all ages sat with their mothers, fathers, or grandparents. Straightening his tie as Lou left his side to claim a seat, he stepped onto the makeshift stage and waited for his turn to speak.

It came all too soon in his mind. He heard the applause as he moved to the podium, smiled upon seeing a few of the children pound their fists against their chests. The few notes he'd jotted down were tucked in his pocket, but he didn't need them. Looking out at those gathered, he cleared his throat.

"In my line of work, ah'm on the road several days a week. At times it takes me to other countries for weeks at a time. Ah once thought my job was hard, then ah was introduced to men and women who face death daily for months on end. Ah heard their stories, saw pictures of the loved ones they missed." He couldn't help but wonder if any of those he'd seen were now seated in front of him. Gripping the edges of the podium, he drew in a deep breath. "The WWE is committed to honoring the military. Ah speak for the entire company when ah say that their sacrifices are appreciated. And ah speak for everyone when ah tell yeh that it's the sacrifices that yeh've made don't go unnoticed. America thinks highly of its armed forces, that was evident to me the moment ah first stepped off the plane years ago. America also thinks highly of those left behind. The men and women who keep the home fire burnin' no matter what. Even when lives are lost, all of yeh stand up and honor those fallen with grace, humility and passion. As a pale ginger from Ireland, who understands what it's like to leave and to be left, ah'd like to say what an honor it is to be in the same room with yeh."

Pausing for a breath, and to keep his voice from breaking, he was surprised at the sound of someone clapping. It spread throughout those in attendance, causing him to relax a little. He looked out, one corner of his mouth lifting when he caught sight of a little girl on her feet. She couldn't have been more than three, the small American flag in her hand wobbling as she continued to clap. She was pulled back, blonde curls bouncing, and his gaze landed on the young woman behind her. Bright pink sweater standing out in a sea of red, white, and blue, she was holding onto the girl with one arm as she brushed tears away. Mouth dry, he licked his lips and continued.

"This place has been built with the blood of fallen heroes, the sweat of men and women who wanted to give back, and your tears. It is my hope that everyone who enters the front door is given the comfort, support and guidance they need. When ah arrived, ah spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, whose dedication to this center has been steadfast." He was supposed to bring up the check that had been handed over, but he couldn't. It seemed distasteful to discuss money. So, glancing back at the woman in pink, he smiled as words came to him. "Let it be known that the WWE is determined to see that the doors never close. We will continue to give any and all assistance needed to make sure that anyone who has become widowed by a war can seek solace here. Thank you."

The woman in pink was on her feet, little girl settled on one hip, when he took his seat. Next to her was another, older girl. Blonde hair in braids, she clapped politely, looking back at the woman when the American flag jabbed her in the cheek. Stephen could almost hear her amused giggle and smiled. She looked to him, cheeks flushing at being caught, and he knew it mirrored her mother's sheepish expression. As Mrs. Wilson rose to make her closing remarks, he wondered what their story was.

He posed for photos with the people on the stage with him, unconsciously glancing to the girls and their mother. It was obvious she was their mother; each had the same shade of blonde hair. He looked again, noting that the younger girl's hair was a little darker. They were standing with another family, the older girl chatting animatedly with a boy about her age. Losing track of them as he made the rounds, shaking hands and speaking with those closest to him. Lou appeared at his side, hand on his elbow to guide him to the next stop.

A table was set up at the far end of the gymnasium and he grinned when the children already lined up started calling his name. He shrugged out of the confining jacket, handing it over to Lou. Then he loosened his tie and began rolling up his sleeves, ready for his favorite part of work.

Each time he met kids that had a dazed look in their eyes he was reminded what it was to be a fan. The elating moment of meeting someone admired. The first time he had attended a Hall of Fame ceremony he'd experienced the same awe, unable to believe he was in the same building as the legends that had inspired his dream. He tried to remember that feeling every time a fan met him, but especially when it was a child. Still awed that people wanted to see him, much less speak to him, he tried his best to give them all a moment they would remember.

He signed magazines, a few posters, even a t-shirt. As he received hugs and made a show of feeling the biceps of young boys, he couldn't help but wonder if any of them would one day be in the ring. He hoped so. Would he come face to face with one some day and learn he had inspired them?

"Mommy! It's Sheamy!"

The high-pitched voice brought his head up and he smiled at the sight of the little girl he'd noticed earlier. Clutching her mother's hands, her brown eyes were wide as she stared at him. When he leaned across the table so he was closer to her level she grinned. A dimple appeared in her left cheek and he was smitten.

"How're yeh, lass?" he greeted.

She giggled, then sucked in a deep breath. Stephen's eyes widened as she launched into a monologue. He caught a few words here and there that were familiar. Whether it was the speed of her speech or the fact she was so young the words were garbled he wasn't sure but he had no idea what she was talking about. It was all he could do to nod and smile as she spoke, a laugh erupting from his chest when she stopped, breathless.

"I'm sorry. She's a little excited." The voice was laced with a warm Southern accent.

"It's alright," he promised, moving his gaze from the girl's face to the woman behind her. His eyes roved up her body, taking in lush curves before landing on her face. She was smiling and he knew the girl had inherited the dimple from her. "Ah've been that excited too."

"We didn't bring anything to sign. I wasn't thinking... I don't want to hold up the line, but she wanted to meet you."

"Ah think ah have somethin'." He glanced to his left, calling Lou's name. She was already opening her large purse, pulling out a manila envelope. Within seconds a stack of glossy photos was placed on the table and he heard her mutter they should have brought more. Straightening, he reached for the marker and looked to the girl. "What's yeh name, lass?"

"Sophie." One tiny hand clutched the edge of the table, and he saw sparkly pink polish on her fingernails as she raised the other, showing three fingers. "I'm three."

"Sophie," he repeated with a grin as he began to write on the photo.

"You're huge," she said. "You eat lots?"

"That ah do, Sophie. Me mam had a hard time feedin' me when ah was a lad."

"Veggies?" The word was said with a pronounced 'b' sound.

"Ah love'em. Yeh don't give yer Mommy trouble about eatin' vegetables do yeh?" he asked, signing his name with a flourish.

Sophie took a deep breath. When she spoke her voice was solemn. "I like cake more."

"Ah'll tell yeh a secret," he said in a low voice, leaning over again. "Ah love cake."

Her eyes widened. "Mommy! Sheamy like cake! Make'im one!"

Stephen laughed heartily as he waved a hand over his signature so it would dry. "Yeh Mommy has more important things to do than bake me a cake, lass."

"Mommy makes cakes," she insisted. "For money."

"She does? Tell me somethin'." He leaned forward to hand over the photo. "Are they good cakes?"

"Best," she promised in a whisper. "Buy one."

"Sophie Elizabeth Fitzgerald!" Her mother shook her head in embarrassment, pressing a hand over her mouth briefly. "Don't be rude."

"She's fine," Stephen assured.

"I got a big mouth." Sophie spoke as though she heard the phrase frequently.

"I love you regardless," her mother promised, stooping to place a kiss on Sophie's cheek. The girl giggled, obviously used to the show of affection. "We've used up too much of his time already. Now what do you say?"

"Thank you!"

"Indoor voice, please?"

"Thank you." It was barely a whisper this time. "Buy cake?"

"Yeh're welcome, lass." Stephen pushed his chair back, rising to shake the girl's hand. When he rounded the table to do so he saw the other girl that had been with them earlier jog up. She gave a polite smile as she slipped her hand into her mother's. "Pleased to meet yeh, Miss Sophie."

"Thank you Sheamy." She moved forward, hugging his thigh.

Touched, for usually the littlest fans were always a bit put off by his size, he plucked her up to give her a proper hug. He glanced to her mother to make sure he wasn't overstepping and was relieved to see her pull out her phone to take a photo. "Eat yeh vegetables, right? Then cake."

"Okay," she sighed. Pursing her lips, she smacked a kiss to his cheek. "Buy one? Please?"

"Sophie," her mother groaned.

"If they're as good as she says, yeh must be run ragged fillin' orders," he chuckled, handing the girl over.

"She exaggerates. Thank you so much. She watches you every week."

"Ah'm flattered." He watched her fumble with her phone, purse, and Sophie. "Yeh need a hand?"

"I'm an old pro. Thank you again."

"Bye, Sheamy!"

Stephen waved, smiling as he returned to his seat. Without realizing it he looked up, searching the large room. His gaze occasionally landed on them, a smile touching his lips when he saw Sophie showing off her signed photo. He suddenly craved cake. Tapping the pen against the table he cleared his throat and turned to Lou.

"What?" she asked. "Need a drink?"

"No. Ah need her card." He indicated the mother and her girls, now speaking with Mr. Wilson.

"The cake lady? Do you have a birthday coming up?"

"Get her card, please?"

A knowing smile pulled at Lou's full lips. "You're kidding."

"Lou," he warned, nearly growling as he waited for the next child to approach the table.

"This is priceless. I'm going to get her number for you." She stood, hands smoothing her black skirt. "Is this in my job description?"

"Don't tell her it's for me."

"Silly me. I thought we were out of high school. Do you want me to slip her a note after the second bell?"

"Lou..."

"You're going to ruin my fun." She pouted, but turned and headed across the gymnasium, heels clicking on the polished floor. Stephen watched her progress, saw that she reached the girls and their mother, then turned his attention back to the child in front of him.

When Lou returned the line was down to the last couple of children. Stephen refrained from holding out his hand like a spoiled brat, focusing instead on the kids. Once they had walked way he capped his marker and turned to Lou. "Well?"

"Hmm?" Lou gathered the photos that hadn't been used. "Oh. She's really nice."

"And?"

"She's lived in Florida all her life. Her mother's parents live in Georgia and she used to spend summers there until she went to college." Lou slipped the photos into the envelope then the envelope into her bag. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Yeh only talked to her for ten minutes, Lou." He ran a hand down his face. The woman had a knack for getting information from people without their realizing it.

"Well I couldn't very well march over and say 'I need one of your cards' without introducing myself. By the way, I lied for you." Shouldering her bag, Lou gave him a scowl. "I deserve a raise."

"Ah'll see what ah can do. Did yeh get her card?"

"Yes. Did I tell you she's very nice?" Lou placed a cream-colored business card in Stephen's hand. "And what are you going to do with that?"

Stephen looked down at the card, reading the simple black text. Cakes by Christina. Beneath it was a phone number, website, and email address. Smiling, he tucked it into his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "Yeh'll see."

A/N: Yes, a new fic. All the blame lays entirely at Lou's feet. Thank you so much dear for all your encouragement! :)

As always, thank you to Amber and Jojo for their unfailing support and faith in me. I've made many friends in these past eight months but you two are simply the best. And now I'm singing Tina Turner. Love you! :D