He almost collapsed into the padded chair, waiting for the next plane to ship out. He looked at the timeboard above and sighed. This plane was delayed!!!! It was at least a half an hour before he'd be able to find a hotel again. It would also be sooner or later that someone recognized him and have this entire place transform into an autograph session. He loved his fans dearly, but how he ached so. He had his forearm slammed by a steel chair last night and his wrist was in agony to the tendons. He sat there, slouching, trying to relax for five minutes.

Luckily about ten minutes passed... but the place started to crowd, waiting for people to get off of the last plane. They were having trouble with the door.

It was then that a girl came around and sat right next to him. He didn't think much of it until he saw what was in her hand. He took off his shades to make sure it was what he thought it was... The Undertaker comic book. She read it while he was waiting, but looked up at him briefly. With that, she did a double take. She looked back at the comic book and then to him. She had an odd look on her face for a few moments... before she put away the comic book and picked up a nearby newspaper from the table. He sighed and smiled very briefly at the girl, but the newspaper was already right by her face.

He awaited more from her as he looked at her for a few moments... nothing happened. He looked a bit worriedly at the girl, wondering if he insulted her, but she made no reply as she almost hid behind the newspaper. With that he shifted in his seat, waiting again for the plane.

Another fifteen minutes past... and she was still ignoring him.

He looked at the girl again, wondering why she made no note of him. Was it that she thought he only LOOKED like the Undertaker? Was she shy? Did he do anything to drive her away? He looked himself over to see if there was anything on him that would drive her away... no, that wasn't it. With no other reasons in his mind, he finally tapped the girl on the shoulder. She went down from the newspaper, revealing her to wearing an Undertaker T-Shirt as well. The front had little but his insignia on the side with the graphic on the back, but it was still him.

"So... have you ever met him?" he asked.

"Who?..." she replied before it struck her "Oh... him... well..." She looked both ways before lowering her voice. "Not before today, anyway," she replied.

"Did I do anything to insult you?" he asked rather worried.

"Oh no, not in the least." she replied.

"How long have you watched wrestling?" he asked.

"Over half my life, sir," she replied, "You're one of my heroes. I've seen you since you first started."

At this, he was very puzzled.

"Not to sound arrogant, but why are you ignoring me?" he said, trying not to chuckle.

"Well..." she replied "I took one look at you and saw that you needed a rest. If I made a big deal, the entire state would be swarming here. I thought you could use a piece of solitude instead of the hectic life of fame. I deeply respect you, sir, .. besides, it's enough for me to say I sat next to you."

He could say nothing... he had never met a fan like this before. His heart was truly touched by her considerate nature. He HAD to do something for her... he rummaged through his pocket and got a pen and attempted to write his autograph for her, but his hand stiffened. She saw this and held his hurt arm.

"Hey, don't worry about it... be careful or you might blow your cover." she said.

"I need to repay you somehow." he said.

"No you don't... you already did," she said, "You always seemed there for me when I was a child."

At this, he himself was ready to cry. The call for the next flight was comming up so that they would get ready when the others came out to save air time.

"I never got your name..." he said sadly.

"Sarah," she replied as she smiled, "My only regret was that I couldn't save you from the media hounds longer."

"My only regret was that I couldn't know you better..." he replied.

"Waitaminnute, then... um...." she stammered, "May I borrow your pen?"

He let her borrow the pen he tried to write with. She picked up the napkin he was writing on and writing fast yet precise and handed it to him.

"That's my e-mail and address if you wanna write," she replied ,"I won't tell anyone your e-mail if you send me a line."

"You are the first one I believe in that statement..." he said, "Thank you..."

With that he left the airport. He had learned a valuable lesson that day as well as earned a valuable friend.

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