Actually, since sometimes it does seem that some rampant insanity is at work in the WWE, it's probably best to consider most of my work as alternative universe fic! Keeping the good stuff and chucking away the crap, making the wrestling fan fic world a nicer place to be! And, since it's my damn story, I'm also assuming that someone who was born in Madrid probably speaks some Spanish. Deal with it!

This follows on directly from Part the Third - Business as Usual

Usual disclaimer - own nothing but my original characters, all the other people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!

####

Part the Fourth - This distance between you and I

Sunday morning. Rosie stretched as she woke up, wincing a little as the cramps renewed their protest at any movement. She slipped out of bed and took her heat pack into the loft kitchen. She filled a big pot with water and put it on to heat while she took a shower. By the time she was back, dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt, the water was boiling, and she dipped the heat pack into it to bring it back up to heat. It only took a few minutes, and she turned off the heat and carefully lifted the heat pack out with a pair of tongs, patting it dry before wrapping it in a towel.

She was about to retreat to the couch when the door buzzer sounded, and she went over to the security intercom, peering at the small screen. A delivery man stood there, holding . . . flowers?

"Can I help you? she spoke into the intercom.

"I have a delivery for Rosie Templeton," came the answer.

What the fuck? "Okay, I'll be right down."

She made her way down the stairs to the foyer, wincing a little at the cramps, and checked to make sure the delivery man was alone. She could see his van, with the name of a well-known Seattle gift basket company on the side. She deactivated the alarm and opened the door, her mouth dropping open in surprise as she saw the lavish bouquet of flowers he held, and the large gift basket sitting beside him. The delivery man smiled.

"Good morning, Ms Templeton. I have a delivery for you, and I have some specific instructions here. May I come in?"

Delivery instructions? What? She found herself stepping back and holding the door open for him, and he picked up the basket and a carrier bag behind it and came inside. He waited while she closed the door and reset the alarm.

"My instructions are that you aren't to carry these up the stairs yourself, so if you'd like to show me the way, I'll carry them up for you."

A little dazed, Rosie led the man up the stairs to the loft, and watched as he set the gift basket down on the coffee table. He took a large box out of the carrier bag, and opened it to reveal a beautiful glass vase, which he carried to the kitchen to fill with water. He returned to the coffee table, setting the vase down and carefully placing the bouquet of flowers into it. Finally, he came over to her and held out his touchpad for her to sign for the delivery. Then he handed her an envelope with a flourish.

"I hope you enjoy them, Ms Templeton."

She could only nod as she showed him out and locked the foyer up again, double-checking the security system before going back upstairs. She collected her heat pack from the kitchen and sank down onto the sofa, looking in shock at the gift basket and the flowers. It was only then she remembered the envelope, and she hurried to open it. The card inside said "Get well soon!" and the message inside was typed:

Hope you're feeling better, kitten - talk to you soon

She didn't need to see the name typed under it to know they were from Glenn, and tears welled in her eyes. She curled up around the heat pack with a little sob.

After a little while, she pushed herself up and wiped her eyes with a tissue. She headed for the bathroom to take some more Midol, and then she sat down and explored the gift basket, exclaiming over the fresh fruit and chocolates, nibbling at a few grapes. She hadn't felt much like eating last night, but the fresh fruit smelled so good. She was just reaching for some more of the fruit, when an alarm sounded.

Her head snapped around, and she was off the couch and at the security system. Puzzled, she couldn't see any red lights - the building was secure. The alarm went off again, and she realized what it was - someone was trying to hack into their servers.

"Fuck!"

Her cramps forgotten, she tore down the stairs, skidding on the polished floors as she raced across the first floor, flinging open the door to the server room. She glanced at the screen, eyes widening as she watched the alerts continue. She snatched up the phone on the wall, hitting the speed dial to call Shane, pacing as she heard it ringing. Please God that he hadn't picked last night to go and crash at someone else's place. Finally, Shane's sleepy voice answered.

"Whoever this is better have a fucking good reason for calling me at this hour," he muttered.

"Shane, it's Rosie - the Beast is being hacked!"

Shane sat more upright, and shivered as he heard the alarm in the background. "Fuck! I'll be there in ten, baby girl - call James too, okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer, leaping out of bed and grabbing for the jeans he'd worn the night before.

Rosie dialled James's number, watching the screen on the server. So far, they hadn't been successful, but fuck knows when they might be. And this was not her area of expertise. When James finally answered, she was frantic.

"James! Get in here - we're being hacked!" The display on the screen suddenly changed, and she leaned in closer, eyes widening. "Fuck! Now they've launched a Denial of Service attack!"

"On my way, Rosie!"

His calm tone helped, and she hung the phone up. Now that she had, she heard the office phones ringing, and she darted out to the nearest desk, picking up the call to find a tester reporting that the game had become unstable, and that someone was trying to hack his connection to the Beast. She looked at the number of lines flashing with calls and realized that this probably happening all over the place. Which sent a cold shiver up her spine - this was no random hack, this was a concerted attack.

She asked the tester to log the hack attempts, see if he could determine an IP, and then to shut down the game. If nothing else, that would save the test computer, and take away an avenue of attack. She grabbed a fresh pad from the desk and a pencil, and noted the name and time of the call. She could at least keep the testers safe, hopefully. As she picked up the next call, she failed to hear her own cell phone ringing on the coffee table in the loft.

###

Glenn was puzzled - twice already he'd tried to call Rosie, and the calls had both been diverted to her voicemail. The gift basket people confirmed delivery - was she mad at him for sending something like that? He began to worry that something else was wrong - perhaps the cramps were worse? He listened to the ringing for the third time and even before the voicemail message started, he'd thrown his phone across the room with a curse. He felt so goddamned helpless!

The knock at the door started him, and he stalked over and pulled it open, still smarting with frustration. Mark's eyebrows rose as he looked at his friend.

"Whoa. What the hell's the matter with you?"

Glenn turned his back and crossed the hotel room in angry strides, picking up his phone and shoving it into his pocket. "I hate this fucking long distance shit, if you must know."

The half-pint again. "What's wrong this time?"

"She's not picking up her phone - and I don't know whether she's pissed at me for sending her a gift basket, or she's gotten worse and can't even get to the damn phone. And it's driving me insane!"

There wasn't much Mark could say. Except to look at his watch and remind Glenn that they had an appearance to make. Glenn nodded, snatching up his mask and following his friend out of the hotel room. This was not how he imagined his morning going.

###

By the time James and Shane arrived in the office, the situation had gone from bad to worse. Every phone line into the office was tied up as testers called, frantic about the attempts being made to hack their systems. Shane sent out a text message to the programming team to get them into the office taking those calls, while he and James struggled with maintaining the security of their servers. Much as they wanted to just yank the server down, the constant attacks were at least giving them information that maybe they could use to trace the perpetrator, although they all had an idea who might be behind this.

"I swear, I'll fucking kill Simon for this!" Shane ranted as he bolstered their firewall while James worked at shutting down the testing environment safely.

The programming team were stepping all the testers through the process of logging the hack attempts before getting them out of the system, but the phone lines remained jammed solid with new calls coming in constantly. Rosie had taken over the conference table, with the details of all the testers spread out in front of her, keeping track as each of them were taken offline.

She was hunched over in her chair as the cramps she'd suffered from the day before continued, her face pale. They'd managed to get about two thirds of the testers out of the system before Shane came out of the server room.

"The attacks have stopped."

Everyone looked up, breathing a sigh of relief. James appeared behind him.

"Let's get all the testers out of the game and make sure their systems are no longer vulnerable - I wouldn't put it past this asshole to keep trying to hack in via one of them, if he can."

The team went back to the calls still coming in, and once phone lines were freed up, they started calling the testers who hadn't made contact. James and Shane pored over the logs from the hack attempts and the DoS attacks, trying to see if they could identify where they had come from. Finally, a couple of hours later, Rosie sent one of the programming team to let them know that all the testers were now safely offline, and they took 'Last Man Standing' down from the testing environment.

"You realise this means a complete new code check needs to be done?" Shane turned to James.

James nodded wearily. "Yeah, I know. We can't take the chance that someone actually managed to overwrite the code before we got everyone offline."

"Perhaps we can do a cross check against the last known good version - that will be quicker. And then we bring some testers in to the office here, let them loose using our computers, or their laptops - that way we're not vulnerable to another attack."

"Sounds like a plan. If we're lucky, we'll still meet the production deadline." James couldn't voice the possibility of luck not being on their side.

"I'll go and see who feels up to doing the code check starting now," Shane rose from his chair and headed out to talk to his team.

James took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes as he followed, sliding the glasses back onto his nose as he approached the conference table. Seeing Rosie curled up in her chair, he hurried to her side.

"Hon, what's wrong?"

"Is the Beast okay? We have to check the code, make sure no changes got made." She tried to stand up, but her hand went to her mid-section and she hissed in pain, sinking back into the chair.

"Shane's got it covered, come on, let's get you upstairs."

He helped her to her feet, his arm around her shoulders as he took her up the stairs to the loft. She was shaking, and her skin felt cold to his touch. He guided her over to one of the sofas, pulling a throw rug over her as he knelt in front of her.

"Rosie, why didn't you tell me you weren't well?"

She shook her head, curling into a ball. "Don't know if you noticed, we had a fucking emergency on our hands."

He chuckled in spite of himself, running his hand over her rumpled red hair. "Well, it's under control now. Can I do anything to help you - what's wrong?"

Wincing, she muttered, "There's a heat pack on the table, can you get it for me?"

James rose to his feet, going over to the table. The heat pack wasn't feeling all that warm, so he turned the heat on under the pot of water. But while the water boiled, the little remaining heat would probably help. As he brought it back to her, he noticed the gift basket and the flowers. Sitting on the sofa, he handed the heat pack to Rosie, who took it from him gratefully and pressed it to her abdomen. He gently rubbed her back.

"Seems like you've had an interesting weekend, Rosie. Even before this disaster."

She sighed. "There's that fucking talent for understatement again."

"Come on Rosie, don't make me beat it out of you."

She was saved from having to answer when Shane appeared in the loft, his face showing his concern as he hurried over to the sofa.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?"

Sensing that perhaps Rosie might open up more to Shane, James patted her shoulder gently. "Give me that heat pack, Rosie, and I'll go get it properly hot for you."

She handed the heat pack to him, and as he moved over to the kitchen, Shane sat down beside Rosie, running his fingers over her shoulder gently. He remembered the packet of pills, and nodded a little. "Cramps are pretty bad, huh?"

Rosie only nodded, her face a picture of abject misery, and Shane opened his arms to her. She sat up and leaned into him, and he tucked the rug more around her as he held her close, rocking her gently. James returned a few minutes later, with the reheated heat pack wrapped in a towel. Rosie took it from him with a small smile and curled herself around it, still huddled into Shane.

Shane gave James a small smile. "The programming team's started the cross check against the last known good version - they should be able to tell us in a few hours if anything's been changed."

James nodded. "I think I'll go down and take a closer look at the logs and the info from the testers. I want an idea of what happened before we report this."

The two men exchanged a look, and Shane gave a small nod. He would take care of Rosie. As James left, Shane gently rubbed his hand over her back. "You know, Rosie, that offer is still open - if you want to talk."

She looked up at him, and nodded slightly. He smiled.

"Why don't I make us some tea?"

She nodded again. "And I want to grab some Midol."

He kissed her forehead. "Good idea. Back here in a few?"

They rose from the sofa together, and Rosie headed for her bedroom first, wanting a sweater to try to warm her up, and then went to the bathroom for the Midol. By the time she was back at the sofa, Shane had placed mugs of tea on the coffee table, shifting the gift basket back a little to make room for them. Rosie picked up the heat pack again and held it against her, smiling gratefully as Shane handed her a mug. He sat back, his arm around her again, and she sighed as she lay her head against his shoulder, sipping the hot tea.

Shane knew her well enough to know she might need a little nudge to get things moving. He thought he knew the perfect thing. Sipping his own tea, he nodded at the gift basket and flowers.

"They're very nice - from that guy you met at the convention?"

Rosie nodded a little. "His name is Glenn."

"Was he the reason for the morning after pills?" Nothing like the subtle approach, he thought.

He could feel the warmth of her blush against his shoulder. "Yeah. We . . . aw, fuck, we were both pretty drunk, and very turned on, and not thinking all that clearly. Completely forgot the whole safe sex message."

Shane gave a little chuckle, patting her arm gently. "Baby girl, we've all done that from time to time. No harm, no foul, right? I mean, he's sending you stuff like this and it's a week after the fact - that says he's a nice guy, right there!"

Fuck, was it really only a week? She felt like her whole life had been turned upside down and it had just been seven days since she met him? But Shane was right, and she gave another sigh. "He's a lovely guy, actually."

'Lovely'? Holy crap, that was high fucking praise, coming from Rosie. "So what was the occasion with the gifts?"

Rosie gave a little sniffle. "It's a long story."

Shane kissed her forehead. "I got all the time in the world to listen."

So she told him - how Glenn had called her on Monday, how he wanted to be friends, and how she was enjoying that, the emails they were sending. How both of them seemed to be less than brilliant socially, but how together it didn't seem to matter. About him calling on Friday night - she kind of skated over the phone sex thing, but how Glenn was going to be in Seattle and wanted to see her. And how much she wanted to see him, but how afraid she was that he wouldn't like her if he spent any time with her. About how they'd disagreed about that on Saturday - how much she hoped it would work out with him but how much she feared that it wouldn't. About how she'd called him to apologize and he'd accepted - her tone held a note of wonder as she told him about that. And then how she'd told him about the cramps, and his immediate urge to take care of her.

She was almost sobbing by that point of the story, and Shane took her mug from her and folded her into his arms, rocking her gently as she cried. He was close to tears himself - Glenn sounded like a wonderful guy, and it was so clear that he cared for Rosie. And yet she was miserable, all because she'd dated any number of jerks who had bolted at the first flash of her temper, or who couldn't deal with with that brilliant, quirky, sexy mind, and she figured he'd do the same.

"And then this morning, the guy came to deliver this," she gestured to the basket and flowers, "and he'd even been told I wasn't allowed to carry them up the stairs myself. Glenn must have remembered that I lived upstairs in the loft, and didn't want me to have to carry them when I was feeling so awful. How many guys would do that?" The tone of wonder was back in her voice.

"Not very many, baby girl. Glenn sounds like a keeper to me," Shane smiled.

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, sniffling again. "Shane, you and James are my best friends, and even you want to strangle me at times. How could Glenn possibly put up with me?"

He tilted her face up to his, his fingers under her chin. The bruise on her face had begun to fade to that ugly yellow-green colour, and her nose and eyes were red with crying, and she was still the most gorgeous woman he knew. Not because of her physical appearance, but because of who she was - the wonderful mind, the heart that was big as the whole North West, even that mouth that never stopped.

"Rosie, honey, Glenn will do more than 'put up with you', trust me. He'll treasure every minute he spends with you, because he's worked out what James and I already know - you're a woman in a million. Yeah, you're not to everybody's taste, but fuck them - you deserve the best, and right now, that's me, James and probably Glenn. Even if I don't know him from Adam - any man who wants to take care of you when you're sick with cramps, and who sends you stuff like this to make you feel better, well, he's up there in my books."

Her voice was a bare whisper. "I want so much to believe that, Shane."

Shane pulled her into a hug again, stroking her back. "Take it one day at a time, Rosie. And if you want, I'll ride shotgun when he comes to town, just until you're sure that it will be okay."

They were startled out of the hug by the alarm sounding again, and Shane was on his feet in a second, heading for the stairs with a muttered curse. Rosie followed him, more slowly, keeping the heat pack pressed to her abdomen. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard James's voice from the server room.

"Son of a bitch! He's at it again - this time he's trying to hack the fucking website!"

Shane stalked to the server room. "Did you see anything in the logs that would prove it's Simon?"

"Nothing definitive, but this has his fucking slimy fingerprints all over it. Since we took the Beast offline though, the system's pretty secure - the only thing he can attack is the website, which is why he's going after it."

Rosie looked from one to the other, and then slipped passed them to the server keyboard. "I can tell you if it's Simon, if all he's trying to do is hack the website." She quickly brought up a program to log keystrokes and then started scrolling through the access logs for the website server, finally freezing the screen and sending a printout of it to one of the office printers. She just shook her head, pointing at the screen, where an object code program had been launched, named 'Tweedledee'. "That lazy fuck is still using the code bot I developed in college - I should never have showed him how it worked!"

James stared at the screen and then grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I think it's time we called the FBI in. If I can put that prick in jail for this, you better fucking believe I will!"

Rosie scrolled slowly through the lines of code, and then paused it, again sending a printout. "He's never even bothered to really look at it, or he would have taken this out." She pointed to a line in the code documentation - "Contrariwise, if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic". She'd always loved that quote, which is why she'd named the little code bot "Tweedledee".

And then she laughed, her head thrown back. "Oh Simon, you stupid fuck!"

Shane looked over her shoulder, blinking a little at what he saw. "Tell me that's not what I think it is!"

Sending another printout to the printer, Rosie wiped streaming eyes. "Oh no, that's exactly what you think it is - it's his fucking IP address! Tweedledee was never meant as a hack program - it was supposed to test server vulnerability points. But, if you tweaked the code a bit, you could try hacking with it. That's what he's trying to do - and he's so fucking sure no one will find Tweedledee that he put his IP in there in plain, rather than scrambling it."

James poked his head into the room, curious at the laughter. Shane grinned at him.

"So are the feds coming?"

"They're sending a couple of field agents over, and one of their technical guys. Did you find something that links it to Simon?"

"We found the IP address of whoever launched Tweedledee. And since I can prove ownership of that code, and since the only other person outside this room who ever had access to it is Simon, it's looking rather like a smoking gun. Of course, they'll have to backtrace the IP to be sure."

Glancing at the screen, where the IP was highlighted, James frowned. "That's not the same as the IP that's come up on the DoS, or the original hack."

Rosie winced and pressed the heat pack more firmly to her belly. "That's because Tweedledee is meant to come in, open the door and then delete itself. There should be no record left of it - except that I wrote Tweedledee and so I know something like it could be a vulnerability, even if it's rarely exploited - so our system is set to trigger if anything like that happens. He'd know the IP would be logged for the hack on the Beast and the DoS - he wouldn't dare do them from his home or office, they could be traced. He's gotten complacent with Tweedledee, which is what's hopefully going to fuck him up."

Shane just shook his head. "I'd give anything to know what he hopes to accomplish by hacking our website though. I mean, I get why he'd want to hack the Beast - if he compromised the code for 'Last Man Standing', then he'd jeopardize our release date. But what the hell's attracting him to the website?"

Rosie snorted. "If he thinks he's not been found out, he'll try what ever he's going to. And it will even look like he's accomplished it. Because not only did I program the server to alert if anyone launched something like Tweedledee, I set it up so they're directed to a ghost directory with a current replica of our website and all its code. Whatever he does, we'll be able to see the keystrokes he used to do it, and the intended results, all nicely compartmentalized on a mirror site."

James just grinned. "I'm so glad you decided to use that brilliant mind for good and not for evil, Rosie."

"Show me what that fuck he's up to, baby girl," Shane said, and Rosie quickly called up the ghost directory keystroke log.

The three of them watched as whoever was currently on their website called up various parts of the site. First, they redirected the link to the 'Last Man Standing' demo to another website, and Rosie scrawled down the URL to check later. Then, curiously, they uploaded a JPEG file into the images subdirectory.

"What the fuck?" murmured James.

Shane pointed at the screen. "Look where he's going next."

The reason for the photo became clear as the hacker replaced the picture of Rosie in the booth at the convention with the one he'd just uploaded.

"We have to see that photo," James said.

"We can't, not from here," said Rosie, feeling a cold shiver run up her spine. "I need to use one of our computers to access the ghost directory."

The three of them left the server room and went across to James's office, as the closest, and Rosie opened a browser and called up the replica website, quickly navigating to the page from the convention. Instead of the photo of her with a couple of delighted gamers, there was a photo with much poorer resolution of her and Glenn at the cocktail party in Vegas.

James shook his head. "That's not the photo they sent us."

Rosie's voice was quiet. "It's not even taken with the same camera, the resolution is shit."

"It looks like it could have been taken with a cellphone," Shane said, not giving any hint that he'd seen the other photo. He leaned in closer to Rosie, his hand on her shoulder. "That's Glenn, isn't it?"

She could only nod. "What the fuck is Simon trying to prove with this?"

The intercom sounded, and one of the programming team stuck his head into the office a moment later. "The feds are here."

Looking at the photo on the screen, Rosie sighed, and Shane patted her shoulder gently. "Come on, baby girl, let's go and see if we can't get Simon arrested for the second time this month."

Rosie nodded, getting up from James's chair, one hand still holding the heat pack to her belly. She looked down at herself and shook her head. "I'm going to make a great impression on these guys, aren't I?"

James chuckled. "It's Sunday and we're dealing with an emergency - I'm sure they'll understand."

###

The two federal agents and their technician started out in the server room, where Rosie tried to explain the web server security protocols in language they would all understand. The tech certainly understood, and the agents let him take the lead as Rosie showed him the keystroke log and the printouts of the object code program. The tech grinned broadly as she showed him the mirror site, and then they all crammed into James's office where they could see the results of the hacker's changes. Rosie even brought her laptop in to allow them to see the live site compared to the mirror site.

The redirected link for the demo was launched, and it immediately spawned a dozen porn pop-ups, and started a download of something that most definitely was not the demo of 'Last Man Standing'. Rosie saved it to a disk for the tech, and then copied one for herself.

James and Shane took over then, showing the logs and data from the hack of the Beast and the Denial of Service attacks, while Rosie collected the logs kept by everyone who'd taken phone calls from testers, detailing the nature of those attacks.

When asked if they had any idea who was behind the attack, James, Shane and Rosie looked at each other, and then James named Simon. He began with Simon's theft of Rosie's original idea, and his continued low level harrassment of them over the years, stuff they routinely ignored. Holding tightly to Shane's hand, Rosie then laid out the events at the convention in Las Vegas. The faded bruise stood out starkly against her pale face, proof of Simon's escalation to physical violence.

She also explained the circumstances of the cocktail party in provoking Simon's attack on her, and the attack on the website, in particular the photo, seemed an attempt to underscore that. She had no idea of its significance beyond Simon's crass idea about her relationship with Glenn at that event.

The discussion continued for well over two hours, while the programming team continued its work checking the code of 'Last Man Standing'. It was one of them who picked up Rosie's office line when it rang.

"Jagged Fang, this is Josh."

Glenn was surprised - he had thought that Rosie was alone this weekend. He was calling the office line in desperation, as he continued to get no answer on her cell phone. "Ah, hi, this is Glenn Jacobs. I'd like to speak to Rosie Templeton, if I can."

Josh assumed this was another of their testers, calling to find out the latest on the hack attacks. "Sorry man, they're all in with the feds. She's going to have to call you back later."

The feds? "What?"

"The FBI is here. And no, we don't have any more information about the attack. Maybe you should call tomorrow?"

Attack? What attack? "Tomorrow? No, I need to talk to her now!"

"Dude, you can't. Okay? Call back tomorrow, please," Josh hung up the phone. All the testers were the same - they needed to hear Rosie or James tell them everything was going to be okay, and they whined when they didn't get it.

###

Glenn looked at the phone in his hand with an expression of shock, the display showing the call had been terminated by the number he'd called. Rosie had continued not to pick up her cellphone, and he'd taken advantage of a break at their appearance to try the office number, hoping that perhaps she'd been downstairs working. He hadn't bargained on the news he'd gotten.

Mark came looking for him, frowning when he saw him. Even if he had still been wearing the mask, Mark would have known something was wrong by the set of his shoulders. But the expression on his face spoke volumes as well.

"What's up, buddy?"

"Something's wrong with Rosie," Glenn managed to say.

"Come on, you don't know that. Maybe her phone died and she hasn't realized it yet."

Glenn looked at his friend, shaking his head. "No, I spoke to someone at her office."

"At her office? It's Sunday, who's at the office on a Sunday?"

"According to the guy I talked to, the FBI. There's been some kind of attack."

Glenn's legs didn't want to hold him up anymore, it seemed, and he staggered a little as the full impact of what he'd just said hit him. Mark moved swiftly, grabbing him around the waist and guiding him to a chair in the hospitality suite where they were talking. He looked at his friend, his frown deepening.

"What kind of attack?"

Glenn dropped his head into his hands, shaking it. "I don't know. I just hope it's not that asshole from Vegas."

"What asshole from Vegas?"

"I never told you about that - the day I met her, there was this guy who was hassling her. Another game designer, who held a grudge against her. I stopped him from hitting her once. I wasn't around the second time he tried."

"He assaulted her?" Mark saw red. There was no lower life form than a man who'd raise a hand to a woman.

Glenn nodded. "Caught her a good one across the cheek, right on the bone, the bastard. Cut her face open too - she had a nasty scratch right in the middle of it."

"And you didn't hunt this son of a bitch down and give him a taste of his own medicine?"

"He already been arrested by the time I found out about it."

"You think he might have taken another crack at her?"

Turning distraught eyes to his friend, Glenn shrugged. "I don't know! That's the hell of it."

And again, there was nothing Mark could say.

###

Sunday evening. The FBI team had left, armed with copies of everything that pertained to the attack. Rosie had even made them a copy of the police report from Vegas.

The programming team, working like madmen, had completed a check of the code against the last known good version and reported that no changes had been made, to everyone's relief. They'd even managed to call around and arrange for fifteen testers to descend on the office tomorrow to resume the aborted testing phase.

The rest of the testers had already been told to send in their evaluation kits as far as they'd managed to complete them. Those should arrive by FedEx first thing in the morning, and Shane and Rosie were prepared to develop a new testing protocol to cover off what the testers hadn't managed to get to before the Beast was hacked.

Sending the programming team home, Shane and James announced that they were spending the night, just in case Simon tried anything else. Rosie felt too tired to argue with them. They ordered in Indian food, which Rosie could only pick at, before retreating to the loft to relax. She boiled the pot of water to reheat her heat pack and retreated to the bathroom for more Midol.

James and Simon grabbed beer from the fridge and headed for the couches in the living area, turning on the tv. When Rosie arrived, holding the heat pack to her mid-section, Simon moved over to make room for her beside him, and she sank down onto the couch with a weary sigh. He draped an arm around her shoulder.

"Big day, huh, baby girl?"

"Fuck that shit," she snorted. "Big day will be seeing Simon Brown in court for trying to fuck with us."

James laughed. "That's the spirit, Rosie."

Rosie rested her head against Shane's shoulder, and was startled when a loud buzzing sounded from behind the gift basket on the coffee table. Her phone. Behind a gift basket Glenn had sent her this morning.

"Fuck!" she squawked, scrambling to grab the phone and tumbling off the couch in the process.

James pulled his feet up out of the way just as her hand closed around her phone, and she opened it, answering in a breathless tone, "Hello?"

Her phone picked just that moment to beep, warning her of its low battery status, and the incoming call was lost.

"Fuck!" She frantically brought up the phone's main screen, in time to see the number of missed calls and messages, all of them tagged with one name - 'Glenn'. She covered her face with her hand, shaking her head. Fortunately, she was forever letting this happen to her phone, and as a result, she had chargers plugged in throughout the warehouse.

She got up from the floor, rubbing a hand over her hip, where she had no doubt a bruise would be forming, and grabbed her heat pack. Holding the phone up, she shrugged a little, looking at James and Shane.

"I gotta go make a phone call."

Without waiting for a response, she headed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for the cord to the charger plugged into the nightstand, connecting it to the phone. She took a couple of deep breaths, telling herself she was just giving the battery time to absorb a little charge before making a call, and then opened the phone and dialled Glenn's cellphone from memory.

"Please, please, please, just let me explain," she whispered as she waited what seemed like an eternity for the phone to begin ringing.

Glenn sat on the end of his bed, looking at his cellphone. He thought that someone had answered his call, but the line had gone dead a moment later. He was beside himself with worry about Rosie. When the phone suddenly came to life in his hands, with Rosie's ring tone, he was half-convinced that he was hallucinating it, and it took him a moment to realize it was really ringing. He jabbed at the answer button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Rosie?"

"Glenn?" Her voice sounded a little breathless, and tight with worry.

"God, Rosie, where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick!"

"I . . . "

"You haven't answered your fucking phone all day, and then when I call your office phone, they tell me the FBI are there and I can't talk to you! What the hell kind of thing is that to tell someone?"

"Glenn . . . "

"What the fuck is going on, Rosie?"

She snapped. "Well if you'd give me a chance to get a fucking word in, I'd tell you!"

The phone went dead in his hand. He hurled it across the room in a fit of rage. How dare she hang up on him?

There was a click in Rosie's ear, and she looked at her phone, her mouth open when she saw that the call had been terminated. What the fuck? He wouldn't let her even begin to explain, and then he hung up on her? Fuck that shit! She slammed the phone down on the nightstand and began to pace.

"That asshole!"

Glenn dropped his head into his hands, dimly aware that he was shaking. Partly, it was relief at hearing Rosie's voice, and knowing she was okay. The rest? The anger he felt was not at her, he realized - it was at the situation. He was angry because he'd been afraid, and because he'd felt helpless because he didn't know what was happening. And he'd just lashed out at her because she was . . . well, not the cause of it, but the reason for it.

After a few minutes, the shaking stopped, and he stood up and went over to pick up his phone. He'd call her right now and apologize for his temper. But the screen on the phone was dark - what the hell? Had he thrown it that hard? He didn't think so - this thing was meant to be tough. He punched at the on button, and then belatedly realized that there was a small battery icon flashing in the corner of the screen. Shit, she hadn't hung up on him at all! He lunged for the phone beside the bed and quickly dialled her number.

Rosie had given up pacing, and instead was curled up on her bed, wrapped around the heat pack, sulking. If he'd just given her the chance to explain why she hadn't answered his calls, but no, he acted like a child and hung up on her instead. She was a little startled when the phone rang, reaching out to pick it up. She didn't recognize the number. She opened it and spoke.

"Hello?"

"Rosie, it's me," Glenn said.

"Going to scream at me some more and then hang up on me again?" Rosie snarled. "I'll pass, thanks."

He put a hand over his face. "I deserve that. But I didn't hang up on you - my phone battery died."

"And you just thought it would be good if you got the screaming at me in first?"

"Well I didn't realize it was going to die, although I should have - after all, I've made quite a few calls today!" he lashed out.

Ouch. She'd seen the number, he was right. "And I'm sorry that I wasn't here to answer - will you let me explain why, at least?"

"Just please, tell me that Simon didn't hurt you again, Rosie!"

"What?" She was confused. "Why would you think that?"

"I called the office number when I couldn't get you on your cellphone - I was desperate to make sure you were okay. And the guy who answered said the FBI were there about an attack. God, Rosie, I've been out of my mind worrying what happened!"

"Glenn, it wasn't anything like that. I'm okay."

"Thank God!"

She felt a little shiver run through her - he'd been really worried about her. ";But we have been dealing with an emergency here today, which is why the FBI were called in. Someone tried to hack the Beast this morning."

"Oh hell, Rosie - did they succeed?"

"No, though it wasn't for lack of trying. It was a concerted attack - whoever was behind it tried to hack directly into the Beast and to hack our testers' systems to get in that way."

"Do you think it was Simon?" he asked. His hands had clenched into fists at the thought of that asshole continuing to mess with her. Mark was right, he should have found that son of a bitch and beaten him within an inch of his life.

Rosie nodded. "Well, we think he was behind the hack on the server. We know almost definitely that he was the one who hacked our website a few hours later."

"You're kidding? Why would he want to hack the website?"

"Well, first he tried to change the link to the 'Last Man Standing' demo - I suspect that the new download is some kind of malicious code." Rosie chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "The other change . . . it kind of involves you."

What the fuck? "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Marty put a photo up on the website of me at the booth at the convention, with a couple of gamers," she chuckled a little. "We get a lot of hits on that page."

Glenn had to laugh. "Can I confess that I go and look at it regularly? I love that outfit, kitten."

"How do you know about it?" Rosie asked.

"Where do you think I got my demo from, hmmm?"

"I would have remembered giving it to you!" she protested.

"You didn't - I arrived just as you were leaving. I got a great look at your legs when you jumped down off the booth - hubba hubba!" he grinned. "Besides, you were wearing it when you and Simon were talking later, remember?"

"Oh. Of course! But, anyway, the hacker tried to change the picture to one of you and I together."

His eyes widened. "What picture of you and I together?"

"Best we can figure is that it was taken at the cocktail party, with a cellphone probably - the resolution is shit."

"The cocktail party?"

"Yeah, when we were talking at the bar."

"I wasn't wearing the mask at the cocktail party," he said slowly.

"No, you weren't," Rosie said.

"This photo that the hacker tried to upload - could you see my face clearly in it?" Glenn asked.

"Pretty clearly. Why?"

"Shit Rosie, this hacker was really looking to get you into some serious trouble," he said, rubbing his hand over his face.

"What on earth are you talking about, Glenn?"

"Rosie, the WWE doesn't allow me to be photographed for publication without the mask."

"Huh?"

He forgot that she knew nothing about wrestling. "Okay, quick history lesson. Masks in wrestling is a Mexican tradition, Rosie, where masked wrestlers are huge. The masked wrestler never shows his face in public. And no one expects him to, either. If a masked Mexican wrestler takes his mask off for you, it's a sign of the deepest possible respect he holds for you."

"So I should feel very honoured that I saw you without your mask?" Her question was quite serious.

He chuckled. "Well, not exactly. Kane's mask is a costume device, rather than a traditional mask. But the fact is that the WWE doesn't allow me to be photographed without the mask - because it would destroy some of Kane's mystique. And they own the copyright on Kane - the name, the image, the whole character."

She saw what he was getting it. "So if that image had been uploaded, Jagged Fang, as the website owners, would have breached the WWE's copyright in some way?"

"Not exactly - but you could certainly expect to be hit with a 'cease and desist' order as soon as they found out about it. And quite possibly dragged into court if the WWE lawyers felt that you had somehow damaged the copyright they do hold on Kane."

"Fuck," she breathed. "Is this something that you could easily find out about? I assume the WWE has a website, does that include corporate information like that?"

"No," he said. "It's something that's explained when I'm booked for an appearance. There's a choice, simply - I either come as the character, wearing the mask, in which case they can take all the photos they want. Or I come as Glenn Jacobs, in which case there are no photos, period."

Rosie frowned. "But the WWE can't control everyone with a camera, Glenn. They're in almost every cellphone, for God's sake! Don't your fans take photos of you if they see you without the mask?"

"Well yeah, they do. But the ones who I see regularly, I guess you say we kinda have a relationship. I'll always sign autographs for them, talk to them, and I've asked them not to take photos when I haven't got the mask on. And they don't - because they understand that if they do, then I'll stop talking to them because they've breached that trust I put in them. But of course, plenty of people do take photos of me, if they recognise me. I guess the difference is between a fan and a business. If a fan puts a photo of me on their website, there's no commercial gain to be had, usually. If a business does it, then it's a different story."

"Wait a minute! What about that photo of us from the convention people?" Rosie had sent the email with the photos to him during the week.

"When I saw that, I checked with the WWE publicity people - it was only sent to you and to them. And somewhere along the way, Jagged Fang got the standard blurb about what they could and could not do with photos of me."

"It probably went to Marty," Rosie mused. "I guess I should tell the FBI about this in the morning - it certainly puts a different complexion on what Simon was trying to do with the website."

Glenn felt a dark pleasure at knowing that he'd given Rosie further ammunition to take Simon down.

"Um, I know it's late to be saying it, but thank you for the flowers, and the gift basket," Rosie's voice sounded shy and hesitant, and he couldn't help the smile that broke over his face.

"You're very welcome, kitten. Although, when I couldn't reach you after they were supposed to have been delivered, I did worry that you were really pissed with me for sending them," he chuckled.

"Oh no! I was surprised - nobody's ever done anything like that for me before," she smiled. "But then the alarms went off and all hell broke loose."

"I told you things would be different with me, Rosie," he said. "I do wish that your emergency hadn't ruined my surprise though - I wanted you to have the chance to enjoy being spoiled, not running off to deal with a hacker."

"That would have been wonderful. But it's still nice, knowing that you were so thoughtful. How did your dinner go last night?"

He mad a non-commital noise. "About how I expected. I seemed to spend a lot of time with politicians, and I got the feeling that they were pissed off they couldn't take pictures to make more mileage out of me."

"Mileage? I don't quite understand."

"It was a charity fund raiser event - you know, you come along, pay a lot of money for a mediocre meal and a chance to meet someone famous. In this case, half a dozen WWE Superstars," he explained.

"But those events can raise a lot of money - the local women's shelter here held one recently, to meet some of the Seattle Mariners players."

"I agree, they can, and this one was for a children's charity that makes sure under-privileged kids have the resources and support to stay in school, which is a great cause. But it's the politicians who come along to those events, get their picture taken with a celebrity and then name-drop to gain political points from it that really piss me off."

"Ah, and last night you didn't wear the mask."

"Nope. Which meant no photographs with grinning politicians - they're just going to have to be satisfied to drop the occasional 'When I was talking to Kane last week' and be thankful," he grinned.

She snorted. "Doesn't have quite the impact that a photo would, does it?"

"No. Sucks to be them, huh?"

"Oh I don't know - I certainly get much more of a thrill knowing I've met Glenn Jacobs than I do knowing I've met Kane," she smiled.

"You, kitten, are a wonderful woman, you know that?" his voice dropped to a low caressing tone.

She shivered again, closing her eyes as she whispered, "No fair, tiger."

"What's not fair, kitten?"

"Calling me kitten like that," she whispered.

"And why not?"

She chuckled very softly. "Because James and Simon are crashing here tonight in case anything happens with the servers."

"Okay," he said in a more normal tone of voice, one tinged with a little disappointment. "That's certainly not what I was expecting to hear! I'll be good."

"Pity," she chuckled again. "You're so much fun when you're bad."

He laughed then. "Rosie, you're fun at any time! Well, except when I can't reach you."

"I really am sorry about that, Glenn."

"It wasn't a dig, kitten. And much as I'd like to insist that you, I dunno, carry your phone with you every damn minute and always answer my calls, I know that's unrealistic. I guess I just have to learn to deal with a long distance friendship."

"And I need to learn about having a long distance friend, and keeping him in the loop." Rosie smiled.

He could feel the weight of the worry lifting from him, smiling at how good that felt. "So, what's the week looking like?"

Rosie propped herself up on her pillows. "Well, we're having some testers come in tomorrow to continue the testing on their laptops here in the office. We can't risk the Beast again doing the testing in a distributed environment. Shane and I will have to look at what the testers managed to get through when their kits come in tomorrow, and set up a new testing protocol to make sure we cover off everything. It won't be perfect, but it's the best we can do."

"You think you'll still be able to get the game into production on time?" They'd talked about the production deadlines by email.

"God willing, yes. Depends on what the evaluations show - if we don't come up with major bugs, we should be okay. But we're going to be on tenterhooks for a few days until we know for sure. What are you up to?"

"Got the usual live show tomorrow night, and then we're taping for Friday the day after. Then, I've got a few days off." Glenn leaned back against the headboard of his hotel bed.

"What do you usually do with your time off, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go home to Tennessee, mostly. Do the laundry and check the mail."

Rosie laughed. "Lifestyles of the rich and famous! How disappointingly prosaic!"

He laughed along with her. "Hey, what can I tell you? It ain't all champagne wishes and caviar dreams in the big leagues, baby! You'd prefer to hear how I'm headed to Playboy Mansion for a few days in the Grotto, maybe?"

She collapsed with laughter. "Now there'a a mental picture - you, wearing nothing but the mask, surrounded by naked Bunnies!"

Grinning, he shook his head. "At least I wouldn't drown - all that plastic would have to float, wouldn't it? Besides, from what I hear about the Grotto, the water in there is probably full of stuff I really wouldn't want to be swimming in."

"That is wrong on so many levels, Glenn!"

"Yeah, I know. My bad."

Rosie snorted. That expression sounded so funny coming from him.

Glenn yawned. "Okay kitten, I'm going to say goodnight."

She sighed with a smile. "Goodnight tiger - sleep well."

"I will, now I know you're okay."

"You were sweet to worry about me," Rosie said.

"You're worth worrying about, Rosie. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"I'll look forward to it, Glenn."

"Goodnight, Rosie."

She sat a little longer on her bed before slowly closing her phone and putting it back down on the nightstand. She found herself smiling. She'd screwed up by not answering his calls, and by not calling him to thank him for the gifts. And then she'd let him have it when she thought he'd hung up on her, like a complete bitch. And, in spite of all of that, they'd still managed to work things out between them. How in hell was that even possible?

Maybe things really would be different with him.

###

Monday morning. Rosie was pleased to find that her cramps had abated during the night, and she wandered out to the loft kitchen to put on a pot of coffee before showering and dressing.

By the time Shane and James surfaced from the other bedrooms, she was sitting on the couch with her feet up, sipping her coffee as she finally got the chance to unpack the gift basket that had arrived the morning before. The fresh fruit was wonderful, but there was way too much for one person - she thought she'd take that downstairs to share with everyone today. The chocolate, however - that she was definitely keeping for herself. To her amazement, under the chocolate, there were packages of her favourite Biringer's cookies, and some handmade gourmet cookies as well - with all of these, she would have the programming team and the testers eating out of her hands, she chuckled to herself.

Shane dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he came over to sit beside her. "Hey baby girl."

Rosie smiled at him. "Hi babe."

His eyes went to the contents of the gift basket, grinning. "Well now, someone seems to know you pretty well."

She chuckled, sipping her coffee. "Lucky guess, I think. Although he knew enough about cramps to suggest Midol and send chocolate."

Shane grinned. "You sure he's not gay, babe?"

Rosie gave him a wicked grin. "Oh I dunno, lemme think about that . . . fuck, no, he ain't gay!"

"Sounds like a ringing endorsement there, baby girl," Shane chuckled.

She didn't have to say anything, he thought - that grin said it all, really. The three of them made their way downstairs, Rosie carrying the gift basket, minus the chocolate. FedEx arrived an hour or so later with the first batch of evaluation kits, and she and Shane commandeered the conference table to go through them.

It didn't take long for them to establish where most of the testers had gotten up to before the hacks began, and they started to draft the new testing strategy as the testers began arriving. They set four testers the task of putting the game through its multiplayer LAN option, while the others began on the abbreviated testing protocol. These were their most experienced testers, and they felt confident that this would give them a good picture of the game's overall playability and stability.

While the testers worked, Rosie went through the evaluation kits in detail, making notes on a legal pad as she did. The news seemed pretty good - the game was stable as far as the testers had gotten. There were some minor gameplay issues, and Shane assigned members of the programming team to investigate those in more detail. They would need to wait and see how the remainder of the testing went, but at this point it was looking good.

Once they had the testing under control, Rosie had gone into James's office with Shane, and told them what Glenn had explained to her last night about the potential trouble they could have faced had the website hack succeeded, in terms of his photo appearing. James had reached for the business card they'd been left, and called them, putting the call on speaker phone for Rosie to explain what she'd learned.

While she did so, James went through Marty's emails and found the one that contained the disclaimer about the use of any images of WWE superstars, which he forwarded to the agents. Given that they'd received the warning, had the WWE found that unauthorized image on display, Jagged Fang could certainly have expected to find itself in hot water, in the agents' opinion.

Checking the header of the email, James realized two things - one was that it had been sent before the convention, and secondly that, even though the other email addresses were not visible, it appeared to have been sent to everyone who was appearing at the convention. Meaning Simon had known beforehand that photos of Glenn without his mask were not for publication. The agents promised to check with the convention organizers to confirm that was the case.

Rosie sighed as the agents hung up, and dropped her head into her hands. Shane rubbed a hand over her back soothingly. She gave him a small smile.

"One day at a time, Rosie."

"Yeah, I guess." She was silent for a moment, and then remembered what she'd been thinking about on Saturday morning. "Just a sec, guys - I got something I want to talk to you about."

"Sure, Rosie," James said, and she got up and went into her office, grabbing the legal pad she'd been using to put down her ideas about the gaming engine.

When she returned to James's office, she gave them both a small smile. "Okay, I know we're still focused on 'Last Man Standing', but I've had a idea for something I'd like you to consider when we get the game into production."

James liked how she was thinking positively about that, at least. "I'm listening, Rosie."

Shane leaned forward. "Hit me with it, baby girl."

Rosie outlined her idea of developing a new gaming engine. She didn't downplay the challenges of it, but was quick to point out the potential for another product to give them a revenue stream. Shane immediately nodded - he knew exactly what she was getting at with this new concept, and could see the benefit in it. And he felt sure the programming team had the skills necessary.

James was more cautious, but that was one reason that they worked well together. "I'll admit, it sounds feasible. But we were going to look at an expansion pack for 'Soli Invicto' next."

Shane nodded. "I think we can do both. The expansion pack isn't going to need the whole team. And we're doing that one on our clock, so if it takes a bit longer, it's not really going to matter."

"What about 'Evil Overlords Inc.' then?" James asked Rosie.

She chuckled. "If we can build this game engine, I can make that baby do tricks that will blow you out of the water, James. I think we could delay it until we have a new engine - again, we're doing it on our own clock. And I want to make damn sure that when we do release it, Simon has a fucking coronary at how good it is."

Grinning, Shane nodded. "And you know, if we told our investors we were planning next to build a revolutionary game engine to enable us to do major new things with 'Evil Overlords Inc.", I think they'd be supportive."

James looked thoughtful. "Okay, here's the deal - we have to get 'Last Man Standing' into production first. Then let's do up a business plan for the new engine, but one that allows us to develop the expansion pack at the same time. I want commercial product to capitalize on the launch of 'Last Man Standing' - I want to take advantage of our increased profile."

"James, that is the reason I love you," Rosie grinned. "And you got a deal."

"Come on, baby girl," Shane stood up and beckoned to Rosie. "Let's go see what's happening with the testing. James is right - 'Last Man Standing' is our first priority."

Rosie reached for her legal pad, but James laid his hand on it. "I'd like to look this over, if that's okay."

"Sure - knock yourself out, James. Want a coffee?" Rosie asked as she got to her feet.

"Thanks Rosie, that would be great."

James was already looking through at her pages of notes on the game engine when she came back a few minutes later, setting a cup of coffee in front of him. He gave her an absent minded thank you, not looking up, and she left his office with a smile, going back to the conference table where Shane was going through evaluation kits.

Sipping his coffee, James shook his head in wonder at Rosie's notes. This was one of the reasons he loved her - the brilliant mind that lurked under her rumpled red hair. This really was a revolutionary idea, and she'd thought of everything with it. Part of that was her own familiarity with game engines as a game designer, but the rest was that programming genius that was so effortless for her.

He sat back in his chair. If they could pull this off, they'd put Jagged Fang on the map permanently as a force to be reckoned with in this industry. And if he knew Rosie, she already had a half dozen game ideas that they could put into production with the new engine. No one in the industry could match her for creativity, in his opinion.

Smiling, he thought of Simon's reaction to this, and if there had been any doubt in his mind over the wisdom of this new project, that settled it. Simon Brown was going down, and he was going to have James's footprints firmly on his ass when he did. Accompanied by Rosie's spike heel imprints. His grin turned savage, quite at odds with his usually calm demeanour. Revenge was a dish best served cold, the old saying went - fuck that. Revenge needed to be white hot and personal. Simon was going to wish he'd never met any of them, by the time they were done.

###

Glenn's mood at breakfast was much improved, and Mark chanced the question.

"I take it that the half pint is okay?"

Chuckling, Glenn nodded. "She is - and her name is Rosie, okay?"

Mark just shrugged. "So what was with the FBI then, and that attack?"

"They had a hacker trying to break into their servers, while they were testing their new game. And then someone tried hacking their website," Glenn explained. He was still infuriated by the thought of that asshole still harrassing her.

"They know who it was?" Mark asked.

"They have their suspicions. And after what Rosie told me, I tend to agree. It was that asshole from Vegas."

"How do you figure?" And when did you become an expert on cyber-crime, Mark thought.

"One of the things that the hacker tried to do on their website was replace a picture of Rosie at their booth at the convention with one of her and me at the cocktail party," Glenn said.

Mark's jaw dropped. "You weren't wearing the mask at the cocktail party."

"Yeah I know."

"That could have landed them in a shitload of trouble." Mark well knew the company policy on publication of unauthorized photos.

"Exactly. And given what that asshole said to her in Vegas, he was there at the cocktail party, and he would definitely use a photo of the two of us together as a way to get at her."

"I'm not getting you."

Glenn's face coloured. "He . . . well, he accused her of intending to sleep with me to repay me for giving her new game a plug at the panel we were on."

Mark's eyebrows raised. "That's pretty damn crass."

"Oh, he seems to be an expert at crass, from what Rosie tells me. But, given that, getting her in trouble over an unauthorized picture of us together does tend to point to him."

"I'd have to agree. But I'm glad he didn't replace that picture - your half pint looks damn fine in that outfit," Mark grinned.

Glenn wadded up his napkin and tossed it at Mark, laughing.

Later that day, back at the hotel after a morning appearance, Glenn took advantage of a break in his schedule to call Rosie at her office.

She currently had 'Last Man Standing' running on her laptop, trying to work out a game play glitch. She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to replicate the situation that led to the glitch, and when the phone rang, she picked it up absentmindedly, just as she saw the error appear.

"Gotcha, you basta . . . oops, I mean, Jagged Fang, this is Rosie."

Glenn could only laugh. "It's okay, Rosie, it's only me."

"Aw jeez, thank god for that, Glenn!" Rosie chuckled. "I really shouldn't try multi-tasking, I suck at it."

"What are you multi-tasking at?"

Rosie pulled her legal pad towards her, making some notes on the error and how she'd triggered it, so she knew where to look in the modules. "We've found a glitch in the game, and I was trying to get it to happen on my laptop. Unsuccessfully, until just as you called."

He laughed. "Kind of like going to a mechanic with a noise in your car, and then it disappears so they can't hear it?"

"Exactly! But, now at least I know where it is, and maybe what's causing it. So I'm halfway to a solution. What are you up to?"

Glenn lifted his sports bag onto his bed. "Just getting ready to hit the gym before the show tonight."

"The gym? Tiger, I dunno how to tell you this, but I think you got enough muscles already!" Rosie chuckled, pulling up a code module on her desktop as they spoke.

"Hey, a guy's gotta stay in shape," he laughed.

"You are in shape. 'Huge' is a shape, right?"

He shook his head, laughing. "Funny. I thought you liked my muscles - you'd prefer me to just run to fat, then?"

"Oh I like your muscles just fine, tiger. Actually 'like' is probably too mild a word. I love your muscles," she grinned.

"Then I better keep them in good condition for you, hadn't I, kitten?"

She gave a little shiver. "Damn, that sounds . . . okay, yeah, you do that, I like that idea. Really like that idea. Really really like that idea."

He chuckled. "So, gonna watch the show tonight?"

"Hey, I thought you liked that I didn't know anything about Kane," she chuckled.

"Who said anything about you knowing anything about Kane? I'm getting turned on by the idea of you watching me live . . . seeing me flex my muscles for you," he grinned.

Rosie put her hand over her face with a little chuckle. "Oh, now you're just pushing my buttons for the fun of it!"

"Yep! So?"

"So what?"

"Gonna watch me tonight?"

She bit her bottom lip. "On one condition."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Will you call me after the show?"

"Why, Rosie?" He thought he knew the answer already, but he wanted to hear her say it.

She laughed very softly. "You bastard. So I can give you my opinion of your match, of course."

"Now you're just being cute."

"So you don't think my opinion matters?" she grinned.

"Oh, I value your opinions, kitten."

"You're not buying that for a second, are you?"

"Nope. Tell me why you really want me to call, kitten."

His voice had taken on that low caressing tone again, and Rosie darted a glance at the open door of her office, her own voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Because I suspect that seeing you live, flexing your muscles for me, is going to turn me on."

"Really, kitten?"

"Oh yes. I think it's going to turn me on a lot. And since you'll be the one turning me on, I think it's only fair you help me . . . deal with it, don't you?' she whispered, blushing a little.

His voice was a little husky as he spoke. "I think that can be arranged, kitten."

She bit her lip, trying not to moan out loud. "Good." It came out sounding like a moan, anyway.

Glenn closed his eyes for a moment, struggling with the wash of desire that sound provoked. "I think I might need a cold shower before I hit the gym."

Rosie sat with her hand over her face, chuckling softly. "And my concentration's just been shot to hell. But all in a good cause."

He had to laugh then. "We make quite the pair, don't we?"

Rosie grinned. "You're big enough to make a pair all by yourself, but yes, we do!"

"Funny girl. Okay, I really do have to get ready here, Rosie."

"I know, Glenn. What time does the show start tonight?"

"Six o'clock. And it ends at eight o'clock," he grinned.

"Oh my. I guess I'll be in bed early tonight then," she laughed.

"Yes, you will, kitten," he growled, and she caught herself before she whimpered too loudly.

"Talk to you tonight, Glenn," she whispered.

"Remember, Rosie, I'll be flexing for you," he smiled, and she shivered. "Later, kitten."

Rosie hung up the phone slowly, her hand trembling a little. She glanced between her desktop screen and her laptop but it was no use - her concentration wasn't just shot, it was shattered into a million pieces. She got up from her desk and headed out to the kitchen - maybe some coffee would help.

###

Shane looked up from his desk as Rosie approached, and smiled as she perched on one corner of it.

"What's shaking, babe?"

"I think I've worked out that game play glitch. Just compiling a test version, to see if I'm right. How late you think everyone will be here tonight?"

He didn't miss her glance at the clock, and he stood up, taking her hand and leading her over to the staircase to the loft, where they could talk more privately. "Okay, baby girl, you're not a clock watcher usually. Want to tell me what's really up?"

Rosie gave a little chuckle - she never could put anything over on Shane. Her voice was low as she spoke. "You know Glenn is a wrestler, right?"

He nodded. "Uh huh."

She blushed a little. "They do a show on Monday nights. It's televised - live."

"Ah. And you'd like to watch?"

It was her turn to nod.

Smiling, he hugged her gently. "What time does it start, baby girl?"

Rosie resisted the urge to sigh - Shane was such a good friend. "Six o'clock."

"I'll have everyone out of here by five - that suit?"

"Perfectly." She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Shane - I owe you one."

He chuckled. "Who's keeping score? You'd do the same thing for me anyway."

"I'm going to go check that test version, 'kay?"

He nodded, watching her walk away as he returned to his desk. He waited until he was sure she was back in her office before opening an instant message window to James.

Shane> Pssst
James> Hmmmm?
Shane> We gotta get everyone out of here by 5.00pm
James> Care to tell me why?
Shane> So long as you don't let on to Rosie that I told you
James> Hey, I can play dumb as well as you can
James> "That's Glenn, isn't it?"
Shane> Fuck you, James
James> So why is it we're clearing the place out early?
Shane> You're coming back to my place so we can watch some tv
James> Excuse me?
Shane> Glenn's apparently on tv live at 6.00pm, and Rosie wants to watch . . .
James> Ah. Okay, everyone's outta here by 5.00pm then. How we gonna accomplish that?
Shane> I'm thinking that I tell everyone I'm chasing 'em out because they worked yesterday. Tell 'em we'll start fresh tomorrow, yadda yadda yadda
James> That sounds like a plan. You gonna buy me dinner while we watch tv?
Shane> You can buy your own dinner, but I'll supply the beer. I really wanna see who it is our Rosie's gotten herself mixed up with
James> Liar. You wanna check out his bod
Shane> That too!
James> You'll take charge of the clear out?
Shane> I have to - you know nothing, remember?
James> Yes sir. I live to serve
Shane> There you go with that kinky stuff again - won't be my fault if I can't keep my hands off you later
James> Uh huh. Heard that line before too. Get back to work!
Shane> :-p

###

Shane was true to his word, and by ten after five, Rosie had the warehouse to herself. She went upstairs, checking the security system, and then went into the bathroom to run a bath. A nice long soak would be a good way to relax, and it wasn't long before she was laying back with a cloth over her eyes, letting the hot water soothe her. By the time six o'clock came around, she was in her bathrobe on the couch. She'd brought some of the fresh fruit upstairs with her, thinking it might make a light supper.

She didn't end up touching it, getting quickly caught up in the show. She still had no idea about who most of these people were, but their athleticism impressed the hell out of her. There was brief shot of Glenn backstage, mentioning his match later, and she caught her breath as he looked directly into the camera. She could almost imagine he was looking at her.

Damn it, it was thrilling to think she was seeing him live! She fidgeted on the couch as they announced that Kane's match was coming up after the next commercial break, impatient for the show to start again. When it did, she was almost breathless with anticipation.

She had the sound on this time, and heard the music that played as his theme, which sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes devoured him as he made his entrance - fuck, how did such a big man move with such grace, she thought. He stepped up into the ring, and raised his arms up, bringing them down sharply as flames leapt from the four corners of the ring, making her shiver anew.

As he stood waiting for his opponent, he flexed his arms and she was lost. He wasn't even looking into a camera, but knowing that he was doing that, right now, for her . . . she couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. She didn't even hear them announce who it was he was wrestling, not that it would have meant anything to her. All she could tell was that it was another big man.

Every move he made in the ring captivated her - his grace, his power, his strength. It was like a dance, and, certainly to her mind, just as beautiful. She could see how women would flock to him, well, to Kane. All too soon, it was over. As he stood over his opponent, his head forward, his hair fallen around his masked face, she bit her lip, shivering. Suddenly he threw his head back and raised his arms, once again flexing those incredible muscles. Dimly she heard one of the announcers saying that wasn't something Kane usually did, and she moaned, knowing again that he had done that for her.

This match was the last one of the show, and she sat motionless on the couch after she turned the tv off, still quite shaken by what she had seen.

###

In Shane's apartment, he picked up the remote and turned off the tv, turning to look at James, who could only shake his head.

The two of them had watched the show . . . well, they'd talked about work and watched with half an eye, at least. It wasn't until the last match that their interest really lay. And then they had both been open-mouthed, watching the screen.

Shane broke the silence.

"Holy shit."

"You can say that again!"

"How tall did they say he was again?"

"Seven feet tall. Three hundred twenty some pounds."

Shane blinked, and James shook his head warningly.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"I know that look - you're fucking pondering the mechanics of him and Rosie, you pervert!"

"And you're not? He's two fucking feet taller than she is! Not to mention outweighing her by two hundred pounds - I'd say my curiousity and concern are justified!"

James chuckled at that. "She's survived him once."

"I'm worried what's going to happen the next time!" After Rosie had gone to bed the night before, Shane had quietly told James about Glenn's visit in a few months, and Rosie's fears.

"Same thing as the first time, I suppose - her on top."

"She told you?" Shane was dumbfounded.

"Of course not! I'm assuming, that's all. Not to say it couldn't happen any other way - I mean, I think any man with that amount of grace could be careful enough to attempt the missionary position with someone so much smaller than him, but he'd have to be sober, and Rosie did say they'd both had a bit to drink that night."

" 'A bit'? She told me they were pretty drunk. So yeah, you're right, not the best time to attempt something tricky. I hope he was good to her."

"You think she would have been crying about it, or worried about him not liking her any more, if he hadn't been?"

Shane pondered this. "You got a point there. She's already halfway in love with him, I think."

"I suspect the feeling's reciprocated, from the way he spoke to me on the phone last week. Way more than just being friendly."

"Hey, I'm with you there - wanting to take care of her when she was sick? That's above and beyond the call for just a pal - not to mention the flowers and gift basket. You notice she's smiling a lot more?"

James grinned. "Will you listen to the two of us? Either we're extremely creepy, being obsessed with our best friend's love life, convoluted as it is, or we're like proud fucking parents, seeing our little girl off on her big prom date!"

Shane tossed a cushion at him, laughing. "I'm just happy for her! She deserves a great guy - let's face it, the dating game has been a bit of a miss and miss affair for Rosie. If Glenn can truly appreciate her, I'll welcome the dude with open arms and happily hand out towels and stand jigger for them if needed."

"While watching avidly and copping the occasional casual feel of both of them! And you call me a pervert?" James laughed.

"Hey, the guy's gorgeous - and there's no law against looking! I may have to start watching this wrestling more often!"

###

Rosie was startled when her phone rang - she figured it would take Glenn a while to get back to the hotel, so she wondered who would be calling. To her surprise, the caller ID read 'Glenn', and she snapped the phone open.

"Hello?" She still wasn't sure it could be him.

"Hello kitten," his voice was low and husky, and she shivered.

"Hello," she managed to squeak. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "You surprised me, tiger - I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."

"I know. I was planning to call you when I got back to the hotel. But I couldn't wait to hear how you liked my . . . match."

Ohhh fuck! "I loved it - every move, every step. I almost didn't want it to end," she breathed.

He groaned softly. "Anything else?"

"I loved seeing you flex your muscles - before the match, and then again after you won. It made me crazy, knowing you were thinking of me right at those moments," she whispered.

"I'm glad, kitten. I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Now, I'm going to go and peel out of these wrestling tights and take a shower . . . "

She whimpered. "Ohhhh fuck."

He chuckled softly. "Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn't have told you that."

"Oh no, I'm glad you did," she wriggled a little on the couch.

"And then I'm going to head back to the hotel, grab a bite to eat and call you again."

She'd get even for that news about stripping off and going to shower. "I'll be waiting for you, tiger. In bed. Naked."

His low groan let her know she'd hit her mark. "Something wrong, tiger?"

"Not a thing, kitten. I like it when you show those little claws, remember?"

She laughed softly. "Less talking, more showering, tiger. Time's a'wasting here!"

"That's right - I did promise you you'd be in bed early. Talk to you soon, kitten."

"Can hardly wait, tiger."

She hung up the phone, not surprised to see that her hands were shaking, the tiniest bit. How the fuck had this happened? In a week, for fuck's sake! She was in over her head, she thought. And yet she didn't want to change a thing. God only knew where it would end up, but she was in this til the finish.

###

It took Glenn a frustratingly long time to get back to the hotel. Usually, when they were working on Pacific time, it was early enough to go out to dinner after a show, and it was tough to explain why, tonight, he was passing on all invites. He didn't want to have to explain why - his relationship with Rosie, if it were even a relationship yet, was too new to invite such scrutiny. And he clung tightly to what semblance of privacy he could maintain when he worked and travelled constantly with his friends and colleagues.

Finally, though, he was opening his hotel room. Hanging out the 'Do not disturb' sign with a chuckle, he locked the door behind him and tossed his bag onto a chair. He sat on the edge of the bed to take off his sneakers and then pulled out his cellphone and hit the speed dial for Rosie's number. He could feel his heart beating faster as he waited for her to answer.

Rosie was lying on her bed, reading a gaming magazine when her cellphone rang, and she smiled as she saw the name displayed.

"Hello Glenn."

"Hey Rosie."

Her hands were shaking again, she noticed. "Thank you for calling me."

He smiled, laying back on the bed and stretching out. "Thanks for asking me to call. So, did you enjoy the show tonight?"

Closing the magazine and dropping it on the nightstand, she nodded. "I did, actually. I mean, I still don't know who any of these people are, but I was impressed by their abilities."

"Then we're doing our job - we are in the business of sports entertainment, after all."

"I was definitely entertained," Rosie chuckled. "Your announcers - I think I can see why they're called 'colour commentators' now, because they're certainly colourful!"

"Good ol' JR and Jerry - they do add a certain je ne sais quoi, don't they?"

Rosie blinked. "Wait - did you just say what I think you said?"

"What, Rosie?"

"You spoke French!"

"No, I used a French phrase."

"Holy shit!"

"What?" he laughed. "Surprised a brawler can toss in a few words in another language occasionally?"

She chuckled. "No, nothing like that. Just . . . "

"What, Rosie? Come on, tell me," he coaxed.

She covered her face with her hand. "I find that a real turn on - guys who can speak other languages, I mean."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"¿Cómo sobre si hablé español, gatito?"

Rosie gave a tiny whimper, whispering, "You speak Spanish, tiger?"

"Sí, gatito," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"You're going to kill me, tiger," she whispered shakily.

"Never, kitten," he said.

She gave herself a little mental shake. "How is it that a great guy like you isn't already taken?"

"I could ask you the same question, Rosie - how come a smart, funny, sexy lady like you isn't taken?"

"Who says I'm not taken?" Fuck! Had she said that out loud?

Glenn's eyes widened. He wondered if she meant what he thought she meant. Damn this whole relationship by distance thing - he wanted to see her face when she said things like that! There was nothing for it, he had to know. "Are you feeling taken, kitten?" He heard that soft indrawn breath. "Because I'm beginning to feel that way, myself."

Damn it, she was definitely in over her head! She whispered, "I am, tiger."

This was crazy, he thought. I've know the woman a week, how can I possibly feel that way about her? But feel it he did. "This is a turn up for the books, kitten, isn't it?"

Her hands were shaking even more now. "You can say that again."

"I guess the question is - what do we do about it?"

She rumpled her hair with a sigh. "I have no idea, to be honest. I'm way out of my depth at the moment."

"It's new territory for me too, Rosie," Glenn said. "But I have an idea."

"I'm all ears, Glenn."

"Let's just keep going as we started out - learning to be friends. And we'll deal with any other feelings as they come up."

She bit her lower lip thoughtfully. "That sounds like a plan. Um . . . "

"Yes, Rosie?"

"Does that mean we can't flirt any more?"

He chuckled. "You stop flirting with me and I'll fly up there and put you over my knee, kitten!"

Giggling, Rosie shook her head. "Oh, so now it comes out - you're into BDSM!"

"That depends, Rosie," he grinned.

"On what?"

"On whether my spunky little kitten enjoys being spanked or not," he growled.

She whimpered. "That is a discussion that will have to wait until we're face to face, tiger."

Holy shit! "You're full of surprises, kitten - I love that."

Yep, that quiver was back, big time. "It's certainly turning out to be different with you, tiger."

"Is that a good thing, kitten?"

"Ohhh yes."

"Mmmmm, good. Now, let's see what other little surprises my sexy little kitten has for me tonight. Did you really enjoy my match against Dave Batista tonight?"

"Was that his name? I didn't notice - I was distracted by you flexing for me,&quuot; she breathed.

His jeans were suddenly feeling very tight. "Were you now, kitten?"

"Oh yes. I do love those muscles, tiger." Rosie wriggled a little on the bed.

"Dave has muscles too - did he distract you too?"

"I was too busy looking at you to notice much about him, to be perfectly honest," she said.

He undid the fly of his jeans. "Kitten, you're giving me a swelled head . . . well, one part of me is swelling, anyway."

She gave a throaty little chuckle. "And I'm sure it's an impressive swelling too. My tiger's a big boy in every way."

He groaned softly. "Damn, kitten, that just makes me throb harder for you."

"Just the thought of you throbbing has me so wet, tiger," she whispered.

Closing his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. "I want you so much, kitten."

Rosie was dimly aware of her own quickened breathing. "You've got me, tiger, right here, right now."

"Yes, I do. Tell me, kitten, are you naked for me?"

He heard a soft rustling sound before she spoke.

"I am now, tiger."

He licked suddenly dry lips. "My sexy little kitten - are those pretty pink nipples hard?"

She gave a soft whimper. "Very hard, tiger."

"Touch them for me, Rosie kitten," he whispered hoarsely.

Her low moan sent shivers through him, and he hurriedly pushed his jeans and shorts down, kicking them off impatiently before sitting up and pulling his t-shirt over his head and laying back.

She heard the sounds of his movement and whispered breathlessly, "Are you naked too, Glenn?"

"Yes, Rosie."

"Oh god, if I close my eyes, I can see you like that - that lovely smooth skin I want to kiss all over," she moaned.

"I want to make love to you slowly, all night long, kitten," he said softly.

A delicious shudder ran through her body. She sighed. "I'd love that, tiger."

His hand moved to his hard shaft, stroking it very lightly. "Lots of kissing, and touching. All the things we didn't get the chance to do before."

She sighed softly, the sound like warmed honey in his ears. "Ohhh yes please. Nibbling and licking and stroking all over."

He moaned. "You like that, kitten?"

Her fingers skated over her clit, barely touching it. "I love it, Glenn. I'm a very . . . tactile . . . person. Touch is so important to me."

"God, Rosie, you're so perfect for me," he sighed. "I love that about you. I want to experience that with you."

She shivered. "You won't be disappointed if we don't rush straight into sex? Really?"

"Really, kitten - I'd rather kiss you for hours first," his voice was low and hoarse.

His words had her moaning helplessly. "It will be different with you!"

"Yes kitten, it will be," he promised.

"Oh, Glenn," she sighed, her back arching lightly.

"I know, Rosie," his voice was a caress. "And when we're ready, when we're aching for one another, then I want to be inside you, holding you close."

"Mmm yes, I want to feel you taking long, slow strokes while we kiss," she moaned softly.

"That's it, Rosie, that's exactly it. I want us to savour each other." He closed his eyes, forcing himself to go slow, listening to her soft sighs and moans.

"You're so sensual, Glenn," she breathed.

"So are you, Rosie. Which is why I want to make love to you for hours, my sexy sensual little kitten." His words were punctuated with a low groan of desire.

She whimpered helplessly, her body writhing on the bed, "Losing ourselves in one another, oh yes please, tiger. I want that so much."

He could hear the need in her voice, and knew it echoed in his as well. "Until that moment the heat becomes too much and we can't wait any longer."

How did he know she'd reached that point, that she needed . . . more? Her finger pressed more firmly on the swollen bud of her clit and she gasped breathlessly. "And we're thrusting harder, bodies coming together passionately."

His hand moved faster on his hard cock, his own voice rough. "Eyes locked together, loving your moans, hearing the passion in your voice."

"Nails digging into your back, urging you on, every thrust exciting me more."

It was his turn to moan helplessly. "God, kitten, yes! Your nails driving me wild, loving the look in your eyes."

"Need you so much, Glenn," she moaned.

"Come for me, Rosie, I need you!" he gasped.

He could hear her panting, his hand tightening around his throbbing cock. Her fingers pressed harder into her silky wetness, his groans exciting her more and more, until she cried out with pleasure, her hips bucking up hard to her fingers. That breathless cry sent a shockwave through him, and he was dimly aware of his own hoarse shout as he came.

Rosie panted softly, her body shivering with intense sensations. She could hear Glenn's ragged breathing, which only added to her satisfaction.

Glenn smiled, the first to regain his voice. "Rosie, kitten, you are incredible."

She laughed softly. "Thank you, Glenn. I think you're pretty damned spectacular yourself."

He propped a pillow under his head. "You are so damn sexy, Rosie. How did I get so lucky in meeting you?"

Hiding her face in her hand, she smiled. "I feel like I'm the lucky one, Glenn."

"We're both lucky, then," he smiled, sighing with satisfaction.

She echoed his sigh. "Damn lucky, if you ask me."

"Except for one little thing."

"What's that, tiger?"

"Well, one of the loveliest things about spending all night making love to you would have to be falling asleep with you in my arms."

"Oh tiger!"

"What? It's true, kitten," he said.

She whispered, "I know. I loved falling asleep with you."

He didn't want to spoil the wonderful mood they were in. "Just something more to look forward to, wouldn't you say?"

There was a soft rustling as she nodded her head. "We have lots to look forward to, then."

Glenn smiled. "All kinds of things. Including our friendship just getting stronger."

"Uh huh," Rosie smiled. "So, this Dave Batista person - is he a nice guy?"

Chuckling, Glenn nodded. "Yeah, he is. You'd never think it to look at him, but he's real quiet and, well, gentlemanly, I'd have to say."

Rosie laughed. "And yet he's 'the Animal'?"

"Hey, I thought you said you didn't remember anything about him!"

"Jealous?"

"Nah, I'm secure enough in my own masculinity to let you ogle other men."

She snorted. "Let's just put that theory to the test, shall we? Who else did I see who was pretty - oh, I know, um, he was blonde, and his name was just initials."

Glenn laughed. "Y2J?"

"That sounds like it. Kind of a joke on Y2K, I'm guessing, though as a programmer, I didn't find all that much funny about Y2K. How about him?" Rosie giggled.

"Happily married. Oh, and it was his suggestion I get you a gift basket," Glenn grinned.

"Huh? You told him about me?"

"Well, I told him I had a friend who wasn't feeling well, and that I didn't like thinking about you that way."

Oh! "Wow."

Glenn smiled. "The only one who knows any more than that is Mark. I like to keep my private life private, usually."

"Which one is Mark? And why does he know more?"

"Mark is the Undertaker."

Rosie frowned, thinking back on the two shows she'd seen. "Undertaker . . . oh, he's a big guy, rides a motorcycle to the ring?"

"That's him. And he knows more about you because he and I have been friends a long time - I can't hide much from him," Glenn chuckled.

"What were you trying to hide?"

"Well, he saw me talking to you at the cocktail party - and he knows I'm not usually that good with women. He, uh . . . "

"What?"

Chuckling, Glenn said, "He's another one that goes to that page on your website. Thinks you look real good in that picture."

Rosie hid her face in her hand, laughing. "I'm going to have to get Marty to take that picture down!"

"Don't you dare! I get a big kick out of seeing it and thinking, hey, lots of guys will think she's sexy, and she's my kitten."

Rosie was stunned into silence for a moment. Finally she spoke, though her voice was barely a whisper. "Oh yeah, definitely feeling taken, tiger."

"Good," he whispered back, smiling.

She hugged herself with a grin. "James and Shane know about you. Shane thinks you're a keeper."

"And why's that?"

"He likes how you treat me. Says that makes you aces in his book," Rosie smiled.

"I'm glad I have his seal of approval," Glenn chuckled.

"And James liked how you tried to help me with Simon. You're batting a thousand around here, Glenn."

"So long as I'm making you happy, that's all that matters to me, Rosie."

She sighed. "Most definitely doing that." The sigh turned into a yawn, and she giggled softly. "Ooops, sorry."

"Tired, kitten?" Glenn asked, finding that sound rather adorable.

"A little - it's been kind of a tempestuous few days," Rosie admitted.

Glenn thought back over the emotional rollercoaster he'd felt like he was on and had to agree. "Then perhaps we should say goodnight."

"We should. I need to let you get some sleep - after all, you were working hard tonight, if what I saw on the show was anything to go by," Rosie smiled.

"And you're going to be busy tomorrow with your testing."

She murmured a sound of assent. "So why is it I really don't want to say goodnight?"

He chuckled. "You too?"

"Uh huh. We gonna do that puppy love thing about who hangs up first?" He could hear her grin.

"No, kitten." He paused. "Okay, maybe."

She laughed. "You're funny, Glenn - I love that about you."

"Thank you, Rosie. I love how you can make me laugh too. Okay, really going to say goodnight now - I'll talk to you again soon, okay?"

"Okay, Glenn. I'll look forward to that."

"Goodnight, kitten," he smiled.

"Goodnight, tiger," she whispered.

Rosie was tempted to stay on the line long enough to hear him hang up, but she caught herself doing it and instead hung up with a little giggle of her own at her silliness.

Glenn heard it and was smiling when he closed his own phone.

Continue to Part the Fifth - To where you are

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