It's Not Over

Usual disclaimer - see Chapter 1 for the full details, but I own nothing, all the 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!

Chapter 12

Glenn woke the next morning, and listened to see if he could hear Dacey up and about.  The guesthouse was silent, but instead of getting up, he lay on his back and laced his fingers together behind his head.  He thought about Dacey, and how difficult it had been to leave her bed the night before.  It was probably a good thing that they were going to spend some time apart, he realised with a sigh.  If they didn’t, he was sure they’d end up in bed sooner rather than later.  His body’s immediate arousal at the very thought of having Dacey in his bed, in his arms, made him groan.  Definitely a better idea to go their separate ways for the moment.  At least until he was thinking a bit clearer anyway.

He wasn’t impulsive by nature, but he had been suppressing his desire for Dacey since that day they’d done the shoot for the first promo together.  To discover now that she shared his feelings was a little like opening the floodgates, and he didn’t especially want that.  For one thing, he didn’t want to overwhelm her.  And he happened to agree with her – falling in love was too special to rush.  He smiled, thinking about that.  How wonderful it would be, letting their feelings for one another blossom and deepen over time, until they were ready to take the next steps. 

There was a quiet tap on his door, and then it opened and Dacey peeked inside, her voice barely more than a whisper.  “Glenn?  Are you awake?”

He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. “I am, honey.”

She pushed the door open, her head ducked down a little as she glanced at him shyly.  “Can I come in?”

Without a second thought, he sat up and opened his arms to her, and she crossed the room to climb onto the bed, her own arms going around his neck as she hugged him.  His eyes closed as he held her close.  He caught himself as he was about to lie back, taking her with him, and chuckled very softly, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.  Yep, most definitely needed to spend some time apart, he thought to himself as he instead eased back to lean against the headboard.  He didn’t let go of her, though.  There was showing restraint, and then there was being a damn fool – holding Dacey in his arms, so long as that’s as far as they went, was not something he was going to give up just yet.

Dacey nestled her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh of contentment.  His arms tightened around her a little – the feel of her breath against his neck provoked a rush of strongly erotic desires.  Only the thought of Mark – or worse, Maeve – coming into the guesthouse kept him from throwing all his new-found resolve out the window. 

Still, he had to wonder.  Nuzzling his cheek to her hair, he smiled.  “Not that I’m complaining, a ghrá mo chroí, but to what do I owe this delightful surprise?”

She ran one fingertip over the t-shirt he wore as she answered.  “I’m not really sure.  I just woke up and needed to be in here with you.  I don’t really think I was awake when I came down here.”

He chuckled.  “Well, I think that’s probably a good sign – your unconscious urges are to be with me.”

Dacey laughed softly, lifting her head to smile at him.  “Speaking of being unconscious, I have to thank you for the massage last night, Glenn.  I’m not sure I stayed awake long enough to do it.”

Glenn cupped her face gently with one hand, leaning down to kiss her softly. “You are very welcome, Dacey.  How do you feel this morning though?”

She gave an experimental little wriggle of her shoulders, which pressed her body closer to his in ways that made him simultaneously wish she hadn’t and hope she did it again.  Her eyebrows raised and she nodded.  “Much better than last night, definitely.  Of course, that could just be because I’m here with you.”  Her head went back to his shoulder as she snuggled closer to him.

He stroked his hand gently up and down her back as he held her.  “I wish I could prescribe extended doses of being with me, then.  But until that happens, hot showers and gentle stretches are probably your best bet.”

Dacey nodded, her face nuzzling his chest as she did.  “A few days off won’t hurt either.”

His only answer was a murmur of assent.  He didn’t really want to think about their days off, if he wasn’t going to be spending them with her.  It was more than a little startling how quickly she’d taken up residence in his heart, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.  They were both silent then, until the gradually brightening room reminded them that their day did need to start soon. 

Dacey sat up and smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him lightly.  “I’m going to shower and dress for breakfast, Glenn.  I’ll see you soon.”  She didn’t wait for a response, slipping off the bed and heading for the door.

Glenn just nodded, holding his sigh until she was out of earshot.  He supposed he should do the same, and then pack.  He would be leaving for the airport after the post-show recap meeting this morning.  He swung his legs out of bed and stretched, pushing his mind away from thoughts beyond the immediate concerns of showering and packing.

@@@

Breakfast was a slightly sombre affair, with Maeve pouting a little to learn that Dacey was leaving so soon.  Dacey looked at the woebegone little face, and turned to Mark and Isabelle.

“I assume you have a computer in the house?”

Isabelle nodded.  “Of course.”

Dacey grinned.  “Does it perchance have a webcam?”

Maeve spoke up.  “It does!  Daddy uses it to tell me goodnight when he’s away!”

From the glances that Mark and Isabelle gave one another, Glenn guessed that it might be used for other things as well, but he really didn’t want to know. 

Dacey turned to Maeve with a smile.  “How about if I arrange with your mommy to talk to you sometimes on the webcam?  Perhaps teach you some new words?  Until I can come and visit again.”

Maeve lit up like Christmas and nodded excitedly.  “Oh yes please, Dacey!!  Can we, mommy?  I mean, Máthair?”

Isabelle smiled at Dacey and nodded.  “That’s a very good idea.  I think we can arrange that.”

Mark could only smile at Maeve’s enthusiasm, and Dacey’s patience with his daughter.  “Thanks, Dace.”

“It’s no trouble, Mark,” she insisted.

After breakfast, Maeve insisted on staying close to Dacey, and Mark stood with Isabelle in the kitchen, watching as their daughter played on the lawn with her.  Left alone with the little girl, unaware they were being observed, Dacey was happy to giggle and romp with Maeve unselfconsciously.  Laughing, she scooped Maeve up and began to dance around the garden with her, humming a sprightly tune as they went.

“Sing me the song!” Maeve giggled, and Dacey hesitated only a moment, to take Maeve’s hand in hers, before swinging her into a jig, singing:

I went to the fair of Bellaghy,
I bought a wee swag of a pig,
I gathered it up in me arms,
and danced the swaggering jig.
And it's heigh to the top of the heather,
and heigh to the butt of the sprig,
and heigh to the bonnie wee lassie
who danced the swaggering jig.

As I went to the fair of Bellaghy,
I bought a wee slip of a pig,
and bein’ down by the poor house,
I whistled a swaggering jig.
And it's heigh to the cups and the saucers,
and heigh to the butter and bread,
and heigh to the bonnie wee lassie
who danced the swaggering jig.

I being down by the poor house,
I whistled so loud and so shrill,
I made all the fairies to tremble
that lived around Corcoran's hill.
And it's heigh to the top of the heather
and heigh to the butt of the sprig,
and heigh to the bonnie wee lassie
who danced the swaggering jig.

                                    {Bellaghy Fair – traditional Irish folk song}

She set Maeve down with a flourish, and Maeve laughed and clapped her hands.  “That was fun, Dacey!”

Dacey touched a fingertip to Maeve’s nose with a smile.  “Then I shall have to send that song to your mommy so you can teach her the dance.”

Glenn had been watching from the guesthouse, loving Dacey even more for how she was with Maeve.  He didn’t want to intrude, but he knew that the time was coming when they would have to leave.  He collected her bags and his, and brought them outside, setting them by the drive, before heading towards the lawn, just as Isabelle was doing the same from the house.  Mark drove the SUV from the garage, and when Maeve saw it, her bottom lip began to tremble, and she threw her arms around Dacey’s legs, clinging to her tightly.

“I don’t want you to go, Dacey!”

Dacey bent to pick Maeve up, giving the little girl a warm hug.  “I know, a chailín mo chroí, but I must.”  She kissed Maeve’s check gently.  “But I’ll talk to you on the webcam soon, and we’ll learn some new words.  And I’m sure that before you know it, I’ll be coming back for another visit.”

Maeve brightened a little, and Isabelle held her arms out for Dacey to hand Maeve to her.  She stroked a hand over Maeve’s hair gently.  She had known this might happen, but she nodded at Dacey’s calm way of handling the situation.  Maeve rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and looked at Dacey.

“And you’ll send me that song about the pig?”

Dacey laughed, nodding.  “Aye, a chailín mo chroí, I’ll send you the song about the pig.”

That seemed to help, and Maeve held her arms out to Glenn, who took her with a grin, rubbing his nose to her.  “Goodbye Maeve, be a good girl and I’ll see you again soon.”

She grinned.  “Slán, Uncle Glenn.”  She looked at Dacey, giggling, beckoning her close to whisper to her, not very successfully.  “How do I tell him to be a good boy?”

Isabelle hid her smile, and Dacey tried not to laugh as she whispered back.  “Hmmm, that would be bíodh múineadh ort.”

Maeve grinned and looked at Glenn.  “Bíodh múineadh ort, Uncle Glenn!”

Glenn could only laugh.  “I will try, Maeve, I promise.”

He handed her back to Isabelle, who smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “It’s been good having you here, Glenn.”  She turned to Dacey.  “And you too, Dacey.  I look forward to your next visit.”

Dacey smiled at Isabelle and Maeve.  “ Go raibh míle maith agat, Isabelle – many thanks for your wonderful hospitality.  Slán agus beannacht leat – goodbye, and blessings to you both.”

Glenn kissed them both before following Dacey to the SUV, climbing into the back seat beside her.  They both waved goodbye as Mark drove off, and Dacey brushed her fingers over her eyes as the SUV left the drive and turned onto the road.  Mark caught the gesture in the rear view window.

“Everything okay, Dace?”

She gave him an embarrassed little smile.  “I guess Maeve’s not the only one who doesn’t like goodbyes much.”

Mark just nodded, and she looked out of the window, taking some deep breaths to compose herself.  Glenn resisted the urge to reach out and touch her hand, sensing that she would prefer to cope with this in her own way.

The venue was filled with the usual post-show bustle, as the crews finished striking the set and ring from the night before and the roster straggled in for the briefing. While Glenn and Mark were seeking out the writers for an impromptu storyline meeting, Dacey left her bags backstage and found a seat where everyone was gathering. Christian dropped by to check on her again, and she smiled as she reassured him that there were no after-effects from the slam the night before. She was struck by a thought, and she asked him to sit for a few minutes as she outlined the direction she and Mark and Glenn had been discussing, and then her idea, which left him grinning.

"I think we should definitely run with that one, Dacey."

She winked at him. "Make it lead up to a match, perhaps?"

Christian looked at her appraisingly, then nodded. "That sounds like a plan. Count me in."

He rose to his feet, then shook his head with a grin as he walked off. Dacey stretched in her chair, and swung around as someone tugged gently at her braid, seeing Glenn there. He sat in the chair beside her, grinning.

"We're meeting with the writers after the briefing."

Dacey nodded. "Good. Because Christian and I just came up with an idea that will lead to a match, if they go for it."

Mark chuckled as he sat on a chair in the row in front of them. "You've been a busy girl, Dacey. We've only been here five minutes!"

She shrugged, giving him a little grin. "Inspiration struck, what can I say?"

The arrival of Jim Ross and the writers and bookers brought any conversation to an end, and they listened as the forward storylines were outlined. Dacey nodded at Victoria as their return match was set for the following week, already thinking ahead to what they might do.

Soon enough, the meeting broke up, and she followed Mark and Glenn down to where the writers waited, before taking seats with them and Jim Ross. Mark ran through the storyline build that they had been working on, and Dacey watched as the writers nodded. She talked about the ideas she and Victoria had come up with, and the angle with Christian and potentially with Trish, although she was careful to mention that she hadn't actually discussed Trish's participation in as much detail.

Jim Ross smiled to himself. His instincts about Dacey had been right - she was thinking long term about this storyline, and her instincts for what would create good TV were pretty good. He was also impressed by the number of superstars who had already agreed to matches with Dacey in the build to the crescendo event - that spoke volumes about the respect they held for her. He thought about the ideas Mark had brought to him separately, about Wrestlemania. If they could pull this storyline off, then that was looking like a definite possibility.

They wrapped the meeting on a good note - the proposed matches and angles were approved, and planning would begin for the crescendo, which would take place at at a Pay Per View early in the new year. Dacey once again realised how fortunate she was to be working with Mark and Glenn - there were few other people in the company who would have the freedom to create their own storylines they way they did. It would mean the coming months would be be very busy, but she was looking forward to that.

They compared schedules - Dacey had a house show a few days before the next TV show they were appearing on, and so she would meet them at the hotel the day before that show. Mark wished them both goodbye and left for his home, and Glenn wrapped his arm around Dacey's shoulder, hugging her.

"I've got to be at the airport in a an hour - what are your plans?"

She looked up at him, smiling. "I've got a rental car to collect and then I'm heading south. My folks live just outside Cuero."

Looking around, Glenn drew Dacey into an empty hallway, smiling as he took her face in his hands. "I'd love to keep you with me, you know that. And I can think of any number of ways we could entertain ourselves for an hour, but I'm going to keep my promise to Maeve and be a good boy."

Dacey smiled up at him, her hands on his chest as she leaned up to kiss him softly. "If we're going to be bad, then I think I'd want more than an hour anyway."

His response to that was to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, bending his head to kiss her more deeply, fighting the urge to moan as her arms went up around his neck and she pressed against him, returning his kiss with passion. When their lips parted, they were both a little breathless, and he reluctantly moved a little away from her, his hand caressing her cheek.

She nuzzled her face to his touch, and smiled. "Perhaps we should part now?"

He nodded, smiling back at her. "It might be an idea." He bent to kiss her again, softly. "Drive safely, a ghrá mo chroí."

Dacey smiled. "I will, fear mo chroi. And I will see you in four days."

She turned and headed off, collecting her bags as she went, resisting the urge to look back, to go back for one last kiss, another hug, any one of the things which would keep him near just a little longer. She really did need some time to think with a clear head.

@@@

Stepping out into the sunshine outside the venue, she waved to the crew and then walked out onto the street to hail a cab. The rental car office was only five minutes away, and in short order she was loading her bags into the car. She was delighted to find that an iPod dock was fitted to the car stereo, and within ten minutes she was on the road, her music swirling around her as she headed south.

Dacey wound down the car window as soon as she was on the highway, enjoying the fresh air and singing along with her music, her fingers and toes keeping time as she did. She let the music surround her, losing herself in it, and it was only when she turned onto the side road that led to her parents' small ranch that she lowered the volume. Slowing the car, she let her eyes travel over the familiar landscape, catching sight of the house as she rounded a bend in the drive.

The ranch had belonged to Dacey's grandfather, and her father had come home to Texas after leaving the army to help him run it. Her grandfather had passed away some five years ago, and her parents had taken over the ranch after his death. As she pulled the car into the yard in front of the house, Buster, her father's boisterous Shepherd dog bounded up, and she laughed as she opened the car door and Buster frisked around her.

"Some guard dog you are! What if I'd been a burglar, coming to steal the good china, hmmm?" She scratched behind Buster's furry ears.

The front screen door creaked, and a petite woman with red hair came out, wiping her hands on a dish cloth as she smiled. Her voice still carried the lilt of her Irish accent as she spoke. "I thought it might be you, Dacey. Buster does actually bark when strangers pull up."

Dacey smiled at her mother, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head. "So long as he's earning his keep, mam." She crossed the yard to where her mother waited on the porch steps, Buster at her heels, and leaned in to give her a hug.

Her mother patted her back gently as she stepped back, smiling. "You've made it in perfect time - I'm expecting your father in for lunch any minute. Let me help you with your bags."

Shaking her head with a chuckle, Dacey headed back to the car, calling over her shoulder in an amused tone. "Mam, I can carry my own bags, trust me. I'm used to it, anyway." She retrieved her pullcase and duffle bag from the trunk, and shouldered the duffle as she made her way back to the porch.

"Well, I know that, my girl - come along then, little miss independent, I've put you in your favourite room." Her mother led the way into the house, and up the stairs to the first floor.

Dacey had not lived on the farm for long before striking out on her own, but the bedroom overlooking the barn had always been "her" room. The big brass bed tucked into the space between the dormer windows, the lace curtains, the view out over the fields - all things which made Dacey sigh to herself with contentment. The sound of the kitchen door banging shut and heavy footsteps put an end to any reminiscing, and a masculine voice came from downstairs. "Aileen? Is she here?"

At the sound of her father's voice, Dacey grinned and ran off, taking the stairs two at a time, while her mother followed her more sedately. She rounded the corner into the dining room and her father crossed it with long strides, gathering her into a hug. "Hello, princess."

"Hello daddy," Dacey smiled up at him. Ben Bittick stood six feet four inches, a rangy man who towered over his diminutive Irish wife, and it was from him that Dacey had inherited her height.

Aileen smiled, watching them together. Dacey had always been her father's girl, although she loved her mother dearly, and Ben was not afraid to say that from the time she was a baby, Dacey had had him wrapped firmly around her little finger. Ben grinned, his arm around his daughter's shoulders. "Now this is the life - got my two best gals here, and lunch smells mighty fine. I think we should sit down and eat, sweetheart - this girl needs some fattening up!"

Dacey laughed, shaking her head. "Daddy, I do not need fattening up! But I am hungry."

With her arm still around her father's waist, she followed her mother to the kitchen, but once there, old habits seemed to kick in automatically. She washed her hands at the kitchen sink, and made her way to the refrigerator for the pitcher of iced tea she knew her mother would have waiting. Snagging glasses from the counter, she leaned over the table to set them down, and then helped her mother serve the meal, smiling to herself at how familiar everything in this kitchen was.

They sat at the table, waiting while Aileen murmured a blessing before beginning their lunch, Dacey pouring iced tea as her father passed around the fresh bread rolls.

Ben watched his daughter with a slightly bemused smile. "You know, they ask me about you every time I go into town."

Dacey looked up in surprise, finishing her mouthful of her mother's beet salad before speaking. "Who is 'they', daddy? And why would they ask about me?"

He laughed. " 'They' is the folks at the feed store, and the bank, and almost everywhere I go. And they ask after you because they see you on television, you goose!"

She dropped her face into her hand with a chuckle. "You know, I really don't think about that much. It's just part of the job to me. I hadn't thought about anyone I know actually seeing the shows." Now that she thought about it, it was a little embarrassing.

Aileen gave a chuckle of her own. "I'm afraid you're becoming quite the celebrity around here, Dacey. I had some students asking about you last week." Her mother was a substitute elementary school teacher, and Dacey looked at her, wide-eyed.

"Good heavens! What on earth do children think about her?"

" 'Her'? " Her mother looked puzzled.

Dacey nodded. "Aye, Ginger. That 'her'."

Now it was her father's turn to look puzzled. "Ginger is you, Dacey."

Laughing, Dacey shook her head. "Well, she's a character, and I play her, so in that sense, she is me. But most of the wrestlers refer to their characters in the third person - it just simplifies things, leaves no room for interpretation. It's the difference between me saying to someone that I plan to throw them into the ropes and then hit them with a clothesline, which might sound a tad hostile, and saying that Ginger will throw their character into the ropes and then hit them with a clothesline."

Her parents looked at one another as if she were speaking Chinese, and she laughed again. "Don't worry, it makes sense to us, and perhaps to people who are fans of the shows. But what do the children think of your daughter the wrestler?" She reached for another roll.

Taking a sip of her iced tea, her mother smiled. "The girls are very impressed with how strong you are. The boys, well, they don't say in so many words what they think about you, but they are very impressed that you know someone called 'Taker' and another one called 'Kane'. This is apparently quite the coup as far as they're concerned."

Dacey chuckled. "I guess that might just impress a grade schooler. But then, at that age, they probably aren't really seeing the difference between the character and the wrestler. Then again, there are some adults out there who can't make the distinction, either."

Her mother nodded, and her father smiled. "Well, it's certainly made your mother a very popular teacher."

Winking at her father, Dacey smiled. "I can probably help that along - I've think I've got some publicity stillls in my bag from the last autograph session I did. Remind me to get one for you, mam. You put that in a frame on your desk and you'll be the hit of the school district!"

Aileen laughed. "Perhaps! The boys might be more impressed with photos of this Taker fellow, or Kane, though."

Dacey chuckled, thinking that when Darkness eventually launched, a publicity shot of the three of them might just be just what the boys ordered, but she said nothing. Storylines were closely guarded secrets to anyone outside the company.

Ben nodded. "I have to say, I'm impressed by their athleticism, if nothing else, Dacey."

Smiling at her father, she agreed. "Most of the folks I work with are tremendous athletes, daddy. I think people get caught up in the showy stuff and forget that to do all of that, you need to be in top physical shape. Some of them could do with being a little fitter, rather than just strong, but that's my bias showing."

"I don't think you're biased, Dacey - it's simply how you were raised," her mother said. It was true - with her father being a physical instructor in the army, she had grown up being taught the importance of staying fit and healthy.

"We were out to dinner last night, so we recorded your show. Perhaps we can watch it with you later?" her father asked.

Dacey nodded, rising to help her mother clear the table. "Sure, daddy." She was reaching for a plate when the lingering stiffness in her shoulders reminded her of the events of the show. "But I should warn you, it's going to look like I took a bit of a beating. I'm fine," she hastened to add, as both of her parents looked dismayed. "It's just probably rather brutal looking - I haven't seen the tapes yet."

"You watch the shows?" her father sounded curious.

"Of course, daddy, how else would I see what I need to improve on?" Dacey replied, not really thinking about it as she moved about the table.

Ben's expression was thoughtful as he headed out of the kitchen door, placing his battered Stetson on his head as he went back to work. His daughter had always been someone who took her employment seriously, and he'd been a little worried when she'd taken the position offered by the WWE, first in Ohio and then in Connecticut. He had thought that she was perhaps throwing away her abilities on something little more than a sideshow act, but he was having to re-evaluate things in light of what he'd heard from her.

After they cleared away the lunch dishes, Dacey went upstairs to unpack, and brought down her laundry to do while she and her mother worked together in the kitchen. There were beets and squash being preserved, and Aileen was making tomato sauce with the last of a bumper crop of tomatoes. Dacey sat at the kitchen table topping and tailing green beans, which were destined to be blanched and frozen, eating some of them raw, enjoying the fresh crunch of them.

She and her mother spoke regularly by phone, but there was always plenty of other news to catch up on, particularly from Dacey's horde of cousins in Ireland. With the news that the WWE would be in England just before Christmas, there had been a flurry of letters and emails as everyone tried to find a time to get together while Dacey would be visiting Ireland as part of that trip.

The buzzer on the dryer sounded, and Dacey brought her laundry into the kitchen to fold as they talked. Aileen resisted the urge to sigh as she observed her daughter's wardrobe of jeans, t-shirts and shirts. She had to admit they were probably most practical while Dacey travelled so much, but she couldn't help but wish to see the occasional dress or skirt. Her daughter was an attractive woman, and she wished she might occasionally dress to show that off.

Her eyebrows raised as Dacey picked up the one item not functional or practical, the silky peasant blouse, to fold. "That's pretty, Dacey."

Dacey smiled, her fingers smoothing the blouse against herself before folding it. "Thanks mam."

She seemed to be about to say something else, but instead she contented herself with laying the blouse with the rest of her folded clothes. Aileen didn't miss the colour that rose in her cheeks though. She was about to ask about it when Dacey's cellphone rang. She fished it out of her jeans pocket and looked at it, the colour intensifying in her cheeks as she saw who was calling.

"Excuse me, mam, I should take this," she said, crossing the kitchen and heading out through the laundry to the back yard before answering the call. "Hello Glenn."

Aileen's eyebrows raised again, seeing Dacey walking in the garden outside the kitchen window as she spoke on the phone, her face animated, smiling and laughing at the conversation. She went back to her preserving, looking up when Dacey came back inside a few minutes later, a smile still on her lips. Before she knew she was going to ask, the question popped out.

"And who was on the phone, who can make the colour come into your cheeks like that, and make you smile so prettily?' Ah well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as her own mam often said.

Dacey went back to folding her laundry, not quite able to look at her mother. "That was Glenn, mam."

So it was going to be like that, was it? "And who is Glenn, exactly?"

Chuckling, Dacey transferred her folded laundry into the empty basket and set it aside to take upstairs later. "I work with him, mam."

"That much I figured out for myself, Dacey. Which one is he - Taker or Kane?" Aileen grinned.

Blushing, Dacey sat down to keep working on the beans. "He plays Kane."

Nodding, her mother sat opposite her. "He was the one that did that scene with you where your top was torn open?"

Dacey looked at her mother, her cheeks now scarlet. "Mam! It was only for a second!" She'd never really discussed that promo with her mother.

Aileen flapped a hand at her. "It was a good scene, Dacey - even I could see that. Your father wasn't so taken with it, but we both know why that would be." She looked at her daughter levelly. "I thought at the time that it looked like he was very taken with you, or I suppose you'd say with Ginger. Do I take it that wasn't just acting?"

Her mother's words stopped her cold and Dacey shook her head, muttering quietly, "How could you have been so clueless?"

"Pardon me?"

Dacey looked up, chuckling. "After that shoot, Glenn and I - well, we had kind of a miscommunication. I thought he'd told me I wasn't attractive, when what he meant was that he felt uncomfortable seeing me in a bra, because it felt too intimate. It never occurred to me until just now that he might have found me too attractive for someone he was only supposed to be working with."

"So do I take it this relationship is new then?"

Dacey nodded. "It's probably not even a relationship yet, mam. We just kind of discovered we had feelings for one another while we were staying with Mark and his family this week." She sighed a little. "It's not something we want to rush into, not when we're working together on this storyline. We can't risk jeopardising the work if things don't go well. I mean, it would place Mark in an untenable position, caught between the two of us and not able to take sides."

Aileen smiled. "And yet, he makes you smile like the rising sun. You care for him already." It wasn't a question.

Smiling, Dacey nodded again. "Oh yes, mam. We were already friends, but this is more than that. He makes me feel . . . " Dacey stopped, not knowing how to put into words the way Glenn made her feel.

Rising to her feet, Aileen came around the table to hug Dacey and kiss her temple. "Then I'm happy for you, mo iníon. And relax. If this is meant to be, it will be."

Dacey hugged her mother, smiling at that strong Irish fatalism her mother still possessed. "Aye, Máthair. I know."

As Aileen moved away to go back to her preserving, she was smiling. Of course, she didn't quite know how she was going to tell her husband that his princess was falling in love with one of the men from the shows they watched on TV. Well, she'd just cross that bridge when she came to it.

@@@

After dinner, Dacey joined her parents in the living room, sitting cross legged on the rug with Buster's head in her lap, petting the dog while her father cued up Raw on the TiVo. She'd had the chance to watch most of the matches the night before on the backstage monitors, but she enjoyed watching them with her parents and seeing their reactions to the show.

Ben watched his daughter as much as he watched the show, intrigued by her responses to what she was seeing. She was intent on the action, nodding at moves performed well, occasionally wincing if something seemed not to go right. He asked her to explain her reactions, and she glanced at him in surprise and then nodded. They almost forgot Aileen's presence as they discussed the mechanics of moves like a snap suplex, and Dacey explained how both wrestlers needed to work together to make the move succeed.

Ginger's brief scene backstage with Kenny Dykstra was shown, and Dacey nodded to herself, watching the action. It had come across well, exactly how she and Kenny wanted, and the twist with Christian was a nice teaser. Her father raised an eyebrow.

"You hurt someone?"

Dacey chuckled. "Of course not, daddy! Victoria and I had a match at a house show, and we played it as though she was hurt at the end. It's all part of showing that Ginger's becoming dangerously unbalanced."

Ben frowned. "Why?"

She just tapped a finger to the side of her nose and winked at him. "You'll see, daddy, eventually."

Aileen laughed - she knew her husband was keen to understand the motivation for his daughter acting like a bit of a madwoman on the shows. The announcement that Ginger's match was for the Women's Championship had her father taking notice, but even before he could ask, Dacey just laughed and tapped her finger to her nose with another wink. He'd have to wait and see the outcome for himself.

Jeff Hardy had been in a ladder match against Edge right before Dacey's match, and she'd not had the chance to see it as she was warming up. Her father was horrified at the moves being performed from the heights of the ladders, and even Dacey had exclaimed at some of the falls both men took, but as she explained, knowing how to take a fall was one of the first thing most wrestlers learned.

"Of course, they don't teach taking a fall off a ladder onto a ladder in most wrestling schools. Nor will they, until either Jeff or Adam opens their own school!" she chuckled.

Aileen spoke up then. "You'd never take part in a match like that, would you Dacey?"

Dacey looked at her mother seriously. "Not at the moment, mam - I'd need to work with someone like Jeff, or his brother Matt, first, or maybe Adam or Christian - those four guys wrote the book on ladder matches. But I'm not ruling it out forever - ladder matches are high profile, and they make great viewing, when they're done well."

Aileen looked horrified, and even Ben shook his head, but Dacey's attention was once again on the screen, grinning widely when Jeff executed his Swanton Bomb on a prone Edge from atop a ladder.

"I'd dearly love to have a move like that one - it's a great looking finisher, so dramatic!"

After the commercial break, Ginger's entrance music played, and Dacey shot a quick grin at her parents. "I guess this is me!"

She'd never actually watched one of her own matches with her parents since Ginger's heel turn had begun, and it appeared her father certainly had some issues with it. She wondered just how he would take the eventual move to Darkness.

Ginger's usual lazy hipshot swagger and smirk looked good to Dacey, and she was pleased to note that her behaviour in the ring as Trish made her entrance suggested indifference. She had hoped that her focus on Trish rather than the proffered title belt would appear menacing, and was disappointed when it didn't quite come across that way. She'd have to work on that - perhaps Mark could give her some pointers, he had looking menacing down to a fine art.

She couldn't pay as much attention to the match as she normally would when reviewing her performance, because her parents were asking questions of her. She settled for providing additional colour commentary, although Jim Ross wasn't in any danger of losing his job to her. What she did see of the match looked pretty good - she and Trish had given it their best efforts. Trish's counters to Ginger's moves were great, and Ginger's reaction to those certainly had looked like escalating frustration and fury.

Aileen crossed her arms over her chest when Trish started throwing chops over Ginger's chest, and even Ben winced.

"Doesn't that hurt, Dacey?" he asked.

She nodded, glancing back at him. "It doesn't tickle, that's for sure. But it's worse for the guys when they're bare chested - Glenn says it really stings, specially if it's someone like Ric Flair doing it. He knows just how to hit hard, not necessarily to hurt but to leave a red mark - and it makes a great sound, which makes it look even better in terms of the action."

"So it's really about what looks good?" Ben was disbelieving.

"Well, not entirely, daddy, but that's a big part of what makes a good match. No one really wants to see a technically perfect Greco-Roman wrestling match outside of college competition and the Olympics, after all."

She had been watching with half an eye, and when she saw the spinebuster, she realised that she hadn't taken that fall all that well, which probably contributed to the stiffness in her shoulders after the match. Ben had stared at her, shaking his head, but the match moved on quickly at that point, and Dacey was keen to see how the handstand headscissors takeover looked on TV.

Leaning forward, she watched it intently, nodding slowly with satisfaction at the move. It had good visual impact, and the reaction of the crowd to the elbow drop was just what she had been hoping for. She couldn't help but grin at Jim's call, realising that the move now had its name. The "Fall from Grace" sounded pretty good, actually.

Her parents were gasping with excitement and Dacey darted a look around at them, both of them transfixed by the screen as Ginger pulled Trish's leg up for the cover. Christian's interference looked so blatant, and the crowd was in an uproar as Ginger was disqualified, and Dacey grinned at her parents' equally disbelieving reactions. Again, she paid close attention to the screen, almost forgetting her parents as she watched her dive over the top rope, seeing Christian catch her and spin her around for the slam.

But her concentration was broken as her father exclaimed, "Dacey!"

She turned to him, eyes wide. "Daddy?"

Ben pointed at the screen, where a picture in picture replay was showing Ginger's leap and the slam again. "Good lord, girl, what were you thinking?"

Dacey raised her eyebrows. "Um, I was thinking that Christian did a pretty good job on that slam, actually."

Aileen's hand was at her mouth as the screen now showed Ginger laying still on the mats at ringside as a referee ran to her side, kneeling beside her. "Dacey, were you hurt?"

Reaching for the remote, she hit the pause button and faced her parents. "I did warn you it might look bad. Honestly, I was perfectly fine! The referee was making sure of that, they always do, it's part of their job. But Christian is a professional, and he knows how to throw a slam, and I know how to fall. Look," she turned back to the screen and hit rewind to take it back to the slam, and then stepped the action forward in slow motion. "Christian isn't just hurling me down on the mats willy-nilly, it's a controlled throw. It's only there," she paused the action again, showing Christian bent fairly far forward, still holding Ginger, "that he lets go. It's just that when you do it quick enough, "she rewound again and played the slam at normal speed, "it looks like he's thrown me from an upright position and is bending over in a follow through motion. I'm actually surprised they used this camera angle, because normally you wouldn't be able to see it, but perhaps the other camera just wasn't in the right position."

Ben just shook his head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Rolling her neck, Dacey grinned. "Oh, I was pretty stiff and sore afterwards, but it wasn't just from that. Watching the match, I could see I didn't take that spinebuster from Trish as well as I might have. It probably didn't help taking another slam after that, particularly onto the ringside mats rather than in the ring. But nothing a hot shower and some sports rub couldn't fix."

Aileen still looked worried, and Dacey reached out to pat her mother's knee. "Mam, I'm fine, truly. I'd tell you if I were otherwise. Now, can we finish watching the show?"

Ben nodded, his arm around his wife. "Princess, you're a big girl, but I think in future you better let us know when your matches are going to be as rough as that. I don't think your mother likes seeing you look like you're being hurt."

Dacey nodded. "Aye, daddy, I will."

She gulped inwardly - her mam wasn't going to like any of the matches she had coming up, in that case, and she thought both of them might have a heart attack when they saw the event that was going to tip Ginger over into Darkness. She turned back to the screen, pressing play. She had missed Glenn's match with Dave Batista while she'd been showering after her match and being checked by the EMTs, not that she was going to admit that part to her parents.

Aileen watched Kane's entrance, conscious of Dacey's rapt attention as well. She had to admit, for a big man, he moved with an athlete's grace, although she didn't really understand the mask he wore. Her students had explained with breathless excitement that Kane had been burned by his "brother" Undertaker, and the mask was to hide the scars. She doubted the veracity of that, of course, but it seemed the boys thought it was "cool".

Ben was interested in the match as well, impressed by the speed and agility the two big men showed. Dacey smiled - Glenn and Dave had certainly given excellent performances, and things were moving nicely in the direction they wanted in terms of storyline.

The last match of the show, between Triple H and Undertaker, was still one of the most impressive Dacey had seen. Even Ben was astonished.

"I never thought I'd say it, Dacey, but that was beautiful to watch."

She turned to smile at him. "That's how we felt, daddy, watching it backstage. Paul and Mark are probably the best in our business right now, and they were just about at the top of their games with that match."

Aileen was curious. "Mark - that's the one the boys call Taker? The one with all the tattoos?"

Dacey chuckled. "Aye mam, that's the one. Don't let the tattoos fool you - Mark is one of the nicest men I've ever met. And you should see him with his little girl."

Ben smiled. "He was the one you were staying with?"

"Yes daddy. Maeve, his daughter, is three, and she is the apple of her daddy's eye. And he's so sweet with his wife, Isabelle - so courtly." Dacey gave a little sigh, smiling.

Chuckling, Ben nodded. "Well I can see how that might impress you, princess." He knew his daughter, and her strong romantic streak - it was certainly the Irish in her, although if pressed, he might admit to having some of the same tendencies.

She giggled. "Daddy! I just thought it was nice - I mean, meeting Mark's family and seeing how he was with them. It's a way to know more about him, as a friend rather than just a colleague."

Aileen smiled, seeing the expression on her daughter's face. It wasn't just seeing Mark and his family that had her romantic nature coming to the fore, she knew. She hoped that Glenn was similarly romantically inclined - her daughter would not be happy for long with someone who wasn't.

Shortly afterwards, Dacey rose to her feet and leaned in to kiss both of her parents goodnight.

"I was up pretty early this morning, so I think I'll call it a night." She smiled at her father. "Could you use a hand tomorrow? It so happens I'm free - and I'm a willing worker with a strong back." She winked at him.

Ben smiled. "Always happy to have help, Dacey. But we get up mighty early around here - sure you can do that?"

She chuckled. "Daddy, ask anyone I work with, or travel with - it's a rare morning I'm in still in bed once the sun comes up."

Her mother chuckled. "We'll see you at breakfast then, Dacey. Sleep well, mo iníon."

"Goodnight, princess," Ben said, smiling at his daughter.

"Oiche mhaith, codladh samh, máthair, athair," Dacey smiled and kissed them both before going upstairs.

Ben raised his eyebrows at his wife at Dacey's use of Gaelic. "Already speaking to the girl in your mother tongue, sweetheart?"

Aileen looked equally surprised as she shook her head. "Not all all - apart from mo iníoon. But then Dacey has always said it comes to her at odd moments - perhaps because we were talking this afternoon about her trip to Ireland later this year."

Looping his arm back around his wife's shoulders, Ben propped his feet on the coffee table with a contented sigh. "Perhaps that's it. It is good to have her at home, Aileen."

Laughing, Aileen leaned forward and smacked at his dusty boot. "That it is, Ben. But that's no excuse for this - I'll be thanking you to keep your boots off my coffee table, me fine fellow! Now, can I interest you in a cup of tea?"

Ben regarded his little wife with a grin, but he rather docilely took his feet from the coffee table all the same.

@@@

Upstairs, Dacey turned on the lamp beside the bed in her room, and stretched. Her shoulders had stiffened up again a little, and she went into the small adjoining bathroom to start the shower running. She undressed and shook her hair out of its braid before pulling it up with a scrunchy, and then stepped into the shower, letting the hot water fall on her shoulders, gradually stretched out the sore muscles as she bathed.

Putting on her pyjamas, she brushed her teeth and then padded into the bedroom, turning down the feather comforter and slipping between the fresh sheets with a sigh of pleasure. She was about to turn out the light by the bed when her cellphone, which she had placed on the bedside table, gave a muted ring, and she picked it up, smiling when she saw the number on the caller ID.

Snapping the phone open, she smiled as she spoke quietly, "Hello Glenn."

Glenn smiled at the sound of her voice. "Hello Dacey."

She laughed softly, snuggling down more into the bed. "Two phone calls in one day, Glenn? Are you missing me that much?"

Sighing with a smile, he leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "As a matter of fact, I am, yes."

Her own sigh echoed in his ears. "Good, because I'm missing you too. I was feeling a little silly about it, to be honest, but it feels better to know I'm not alone."

It was his turn to chuckle. "So much for 'See you in four days', huh?"

"A bit optimistic, yes, since it was only a few hours before the first call," she smiled, feeling a rather delightful frisson of pleasure at the thought of him missing her as much as she missed him.

"I just couldn't go to sleep without talking to you, and wishing you goodnight," Glenn explained.

She sighed, her eyes closing, and her voice caught a little as she spoke. "Oh Glenn."

His voice was low. "You surprised me again, Dacey. I didn't know it would be so hard to be apart from you."

Dacey felt tears prickling behind her eyelids. "I know, Glenn. All the more reason to be so - so we can make sense of everything we feel."

He shook his head slightly, smiling. "How is it, a ghrá mo chroí, that you can be so young and still so wise?"

She laughed softly in spite of herself. "I'm feeling far too Celtic to be called wise, Glenn - otherwise I wouldn't be wishing so hard to be with you, no matter what I say."

"I know, honey," Glenn sighed. "I think I better say goodnight before we just make ourselves more miserable with wishing."

"How can I be miserable when I'm hearing your voice before I go to sleep?" Dacey smiled.

"Sweetheart, you make me the happiest man alive, you know that?" Glenn chuckled, loving her simple way of speaking her heart. His voice softened. "Goodnight, Dacey. Sweet dreams."

Dacey gave a happy little sigh. "Goodnight Glenn, fear mo chroí. God keep you safe until we speak again."

She thought she heard a sigh as the call ended, but she wasn't sure if it was her or Glenn who had made it. She set the cellphone down and turned off the light, and only in the dark did she brush away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She nestled her head more into the pillow, but it was some time before she fell asleep.

True to her word, though, she awoke as the sun was coming up as usual. She got up and quickly made her bed, and then dressed in jeans and a tank top, topping it with a chambray workshirt. Checking the closet, she grinned as she found her well worn cowboy boots, sitting down on the floor to tug them on. She tamped her heels firmly into the boots as she stood up, and quickly brushed her hair, working it into a braid as she went downstairs.

Her parents were already up and in the kitchen, and she leaned down to kiss her father's cheek before beginning to set the table for breakfast.

Aileen smiled. "Good morning, Dacey."

She smiled, moving over to her mother's side, kissing her cheek as she started making toast, the rhythm of working together with her mother coming effortlessly. "Good morning, mam."

Ben folded the newspaper and set it aside as his wife and daughter set plates down on the table, getting up to bring the coffee pot to the table, pouring a cup for himself and Dacey at her nod, while her mother poured tea from her own pot. The conversation was casual - Aileen was scheduled to teach that day, and Ben was running through what chores were planned for the morning. Dacey smiled, enjoying the familiarity of her family again.

She helped her mother clear the breakfast dishes, and then followed her father out into the yard, finding her straw Stetson hung on a peg next to his in the mud room. They went out to the barn, and Dacey was delighted to see her father's mare, Sweet Sue, in one of the loose stalls. She petted the mare's soft nose, her eyes widening as she saw the barrel shape of her. She turned to her father.

"Daddy, you never told me Sweet Sue was going to foal this year!"

Ben looked over at her with a chuckle. "Didn't I? Well, she is - any day now, I figure. I bred her with Thompson's grey stallion last year."

Dacey looked in the feed bins for a carrot, feeding it to the mare as she petted her. "Will you keep the foal, daddy?"

"Yep. Thompson was looking for a new heifer for his herd, so I traded him one for the foal."

Ben Bittick's herd of beef cattle, though not the largest by any means, was always sought after, because he was a firm believer in organic farming, as was his father before him. There was no lot feeding, no chemicals or supplements used on this ranch. While he would never be a rich man, he was far happier with his style of farming than the way of the big ranchers.

Dacey gave the mare one last pat and walked over to her father. "So what's first on the list, daddy?"

Ben let down the tailgate of the his Ford truck, pointing to the bales of hay stacked high against the back wall of the barn. "We need to load up the truck - I'd like to keep the herd in the warm season pasture a little longer, to let the cool season pasture come on better, but it could use some help at this time of year."

Nodding, Dacey strode over to the stack, bending to lift one of the bales, testing the weight of it. The scratchy feel of the hay against her skin sent her to the cluttered workbench in one corner of the barn, looking for the old pair of leather workgloves she kept there. There was a time when she hadn't needed them, but she was out of the habit of working with her hands every day. Slipping them on, she came back to the hay, working alongside her father, climbing into the bed of the truck to stack the bales he tossed up to her.

They secured the stacked bales with a cargo net and drove out to the warm season pasture, where the herd were grazing. Untying the cargo net, Dacey climbed up into the back of the truck again, borrowing her father's pocket knife to cut the baling twine from around the feed. She fell into an easy ryhthm soon enough, braced against the slightly jolting motion of the truck as she pulled a bale towards her, quickly cut the twine and pulled it away and then kicked the bale off the tailgate, where it broke open on the ground, as her father drove in a slow circle around the large pasture.

Ben stopped the truck under a tree on the far side of the pasture, and got out of it, carrying a battered thermos and a pair of enamel mugs. He smiled up at Dacey who still stood in the truck bed.

"Come on down, princess, and have some coffee."

Dacey grinned and placed a hand on the side of the truck, jumping over it and landing on the ground beside him, slipping his pocket knife in one jeans pocket and then tugging off her workgloves and stuffing them into the other. "That sounds like a good idea, daddy . . . wait. Mam didn't make it, did she?"

Laughing, Ben shook his head. "No, she didn't." Ben would and did praise his wife's cooking to the skies, but the one thing she had never learned to do was make his coffee the way he liked it. He and Dacey enjoyed their coffee brewed strong and dark, with a little cream, and he poured two mugs out of the thermos and settled himself on the ground under the tree, leaning back against it.

Dacey took off her hat and armed sweat from her forehead before dropping to the ground beside him and taking the mug he held out to her. "Thanks daddy."

She took a mouthful of the coffee and leaned back on the tree, the cup held loosely between her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the taste of the coffee, and the welcome feel of muscles well used in productive work. Crossing one booted foot over the other, sipping her coffee, she gave a little sigh as her thoughts turned to Glenn. While she was working, she was fine, but the moment she stopped, it seemed he was all she could think of.

Ben watched her closely for a moment, and then asked casually, "So who is he, princess?"

Dacey blushed. "Who told you?"

Ben chuckled - some things never changed. She always fell for that one when she was a teenager. "You just did, princess." Looking at her, he took a stab in the dark. "Is it Glenn?"

Dacey hid her face in her hand as her father tricked as he always had, chuckling in spite of herself. But his question made her raise her head. "Now I know you've been talking to mam!"

He hadn't, but he would be, after this. "No, princess, I was listening to you, last night. It was "Glenn this" and "Glenn says" almost every other sentence. A man with that much influence on my headstrong daughter must be pretty special to her."

Dacey nodded, and then sighed.

Looking at her closely, Ben lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Dacey? What's wrong?" A thought struck him. "Does he not know how you feel about him?"

"It's not that, daddy. It's just . . . " she sighed again. "I'm just so scared of all this!"

"Scared?"

She couldn't sit still any longer, rising to her feet to pace. "It's all so new! We were friends, and I've really enjoyed travelling with him and Mark and working with them. And now I find out that he has feelings for me, and I think I feel the same about him. But I live in Connecticut, and he lives in Tennessee. How does that work? Is it an 'only when we're travelling' thing? Do we take turns staying with one another? Do I give up my place and move to Tennessee?"

He was about to speak, but she wasn't done. "And then there's work - it's a tight-knit community, we live inn one another's pockets when we travel. I've seen women come in and be all over a wrestler one week and then not even on speaking terms with him the next. That just causes friction, and everyone hates it. If things went wrong, there would be that, plus screwing up what we're working on. And Mark would get caught in the middle, because he couldn't take sides!"

If it wasn't for the anguish on her face, Ben would have been tempted to laugh. Instead, he rose to his feet, crossing to where she stood and wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug. "Dacey, sweetheart, take a breath."

Dacey hugged her father tightly. Somehow, getting everything out had helped - all the worries she couldn't express to Glenn, for fear he would laugh at her, would perhaps love her less for them.

Ben drew his daughter back to the tree, urging her to sit beside him again. "Alright, there's all of that. Now tell me - how does Glenn make you feel?"

Taking a deep breath, Dacey closed her eyes, and a smile began to curve her lips. "He . . . makes me feel beautiful, and like I'm the only woman in the world. He makes my heart race when he looks at me, and like I'm melting when he touches me. I feel more than myself when I'm with him, and somehow less when I'm away from him."

Ben chuckled. "Sounds like love to me, Dacey."

Dacey shrugged helplessly. "I don't know daddy - I've never felt like this before!"

"And I'll bet that's part of what's scaring you, isn't it?"

She nodded, and he chuckled again.

"Princess, it scares everyone - falling in love for the first time. You think I wasn't terrified when I fell in love with your mother?"

She dropped her head in her hands. "Is that why I'm seeing all the ways it could go wrong?"

He patted her shoulder. "No darlin', I do believe that's my doing, I'm afraid."

Dacey looked at him. "How do you figure that?"

Ben poured them both more coffee and leaned back against the tree again. "Because that's exactly how I was when I met your mother in London. I was all up in arms about how on earth it would work, her being Irish and me not knowing where I was gonna be stationed next. Sounds like you inherited that part from me."

"How did you deal with it, then?" Dacey was curious.

He smiled. "I watched her. You know your mother, with her fatalism. And that wonderful Celtic romantic streak - she just flew with it, Dacey. She threw herself into being in love and she figured that it would all work out. Now, I couldn't quite do that, but what she did show me was that if it was going to end, I sure as hell wanted to look back and remember the good parts of it. My father called it a self-fulfilling prophecy - if you want something to work out, then it will, because you work towards making it so."

Dacey nodded slowly. He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his. "Tell me now, Dacey, what your heart feels."

She looked into her father's eyes and smiled. "My heart loves him, daddy."

"Then listen to your heart, princess. The rest of that stuff is just noise - that's the practical side of you trying to run the show. But practical can't run being in love, nor should it."

She chuckled softly. "It's going to be hard to shut my practical side up, daddy."

"There's still a place for practicality, Dacey - you've still got to work and earn a living. Just don't let that shut you off from following your heart. Because the two don't have to be mutually exclusive. And, knowing you the way I do, you can make them work together, both of those sides of you." Ben leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Thank you, daddy. You don't know how much that's helped me," Dacey smiled. She picked up her mug and drank her coffee, thinking about what her father had said.

They were silent as they finished their coffee, and then they rose to their feet, ready to go back to work. Dacey climbed up into the truck bed again, tugging on her workgloves as she did. Once they had offloaded all the feed, Ben drove the truck back towards the barn, while Dacey sat in the truckbed, looking out over the fields.

It wouldn't be long before her father was cutting and baling the feed from the back forty, and moving the herd into the first of the cool season pastures. It was hard work, running a small ranch, but she wouldn't have shied from it if she had stayed. As it was, her wanderlust took her off the ranch and eventually to the WWE - where she was happy beyond words to be earning a good living as a wrestler, quite aside from the joy she was feeling about her personal life.

They ate lunch in Aileen's kitchen, and then they went back to work. Dacey spent part of the afternoon mucking out the horse stalls in the barn while her father worked on the hay baler, and then moved onto her mother's garden, weeding and hoeing to get the ground ready for the fall sowing. By the time they went indoors as the light began to fade, Dacey was only too glad of a hot shower.

She was about to get dressed when she spied her cellphone on the bedside table, where she'd left it during the day. With a smile, she picked it up, seeing there was a voicemail message waiting. It was from Glenn, telling her that he still missed her, which made her giggle. She called him back, resisting the urge to sigh when she was diverted instantly to his voicemail. She shook her head, and instead smiled as she spoke. "Hello fear mo chroi. It's me, and I still miss you too. I'm taking my folks out to dinner tonight, and I don't know what time I'll be back. So I'll wish you goodnight and sweet dreams now, and call you in the morning." She paused a moment, and then spoke very softly, "Tá grá agam duit, Glenn."

Hanging up, she turned off her cellphone and turned to her case, choosing her clothes for the evening.

@@@

Ben and Aileen were in their bedroom down the hall, dressing to go out, and Ben had told his wife of the conversation he'd had with Dacey that morning.

Aileen regarded him seriously, in the mirror, setting down her hairbrush, her voice low as she spoke. "She never mentioned any of that to me. But then, I don't think she was of a mood to, either. She'd just got off the phone to him - I could see plain as daylight she was in love with him. But then, when you're on cloud nine, all those worries do seem very far away."

Ben gave a low chuckle, kissing the top of her head. "Don't I know that feeling! Trouble is, Dacey's got my practicality as well as your romantic nature, so she keeps dragging herself off cloud nine and back to earth. I'm a little worried she'll 'what if' the relationship to death before it even really gets started."

Ailen gave him a serene smile. "Oh, I don't think that will happen. In fact, I can almost guarantee it won't." She was thinking of something that she was sure would help.

Her husband left it at that - he knew better than to ask when his wife was smiling like that.

Dacey waited downstairs for her parents. She wore a simple white blouse with a pair of black pants, and a pair of black ballet flats. She had braided her hair and tied it with a black ribbon. Aileen again shook her head at her daughter's wardrobe, and Dacey gave her mother a puzzled look.

"Something wrong, mam? Am I not well dressed enough for the restaurant?" She looked down at herself.

"You're fine Dacey, I was just wondering . . . "

"What, mam?"

Aileen sighed. "I'll just bet the people you work with have never even seen you in a dress, have they?"

Dacey chuckled. "Well, no, they probably haven't." That couldn't be true, could it, she wondered to herself. But it was - she couldn't even remember the last time she wore a dress.

Ben laughed, putting an arm around his wife's shoulder. "Leave the girl be, Aileen. She looks very nice."

They went outside, and Dacey unlocked her rental car to drive them to the restaurant. She was a bit startled to find that the restaurant staff were over-awed by having a 'celebrity' in their establishment, but months of travelling with Glenn and Mark had taught her how to cope with situations like this. She was pleasant, shaking hands and posing for a picture with them, smilingly accepting their words of admiration, but then politely but firmly reminding them that she was 'off the clock' right now, and wanted to spend the evening with her parents. They were only too happy at that point to leave her alone, although she was aware of being under a certain amount of scrutiny during their meal.

Ben watched his daughter with admiration as she dealt with her fans - she let them know how much she appreciated their support, but at the same time made it clear that she was a private person too, and wished to be left to enjoy her meal in peace.

As they sat down at their table, he smiled at her. "Princess, you handled that real well. I'm proud of you."

Dacey smiled. "Thank you, daddy. But I think Mark deserves most of the credit - I learned how to do that by watching him."

Aileen was a bit surprised. "Not from Glenn?"

Chuckling, Dacey shook her head. "Mam, Glenn wears a mask, remember? Most of the time, folks don't recognise him when we're out in public. Oh, some of the fans do, because they've seen him leave venues and such without the mask, but mostly, folks don't notice him, except that he's so tall. Mark, though - well, he's almost as tall, but he has his tattoos. And everyone knows his face."

"And they know your face too, princess," Ben added.

"I guess. I haven't really been bothered by fans much, as a rule. Unless I'm with Mark and Glenn, and then I just follow their lead."

Ben wondered how on earth she could stand being watched so closely, but she seemed to just put it out of her mind, concentrating on the meal and their conversation, although she smiled warmly at their server whenever he approached. It didn't seem to put him at ease though. He looked at his daughter with fresh eyes - she was seen on television on a regular basis, in an industry where beautiful women seemed to be the rule. Of course the young man would be flustered by her!

In spite of the attention, they enjoyed a fine meal and a wonderful evening of talk and laughter. Ben frowned a little when Dacey asked for the check, and she shot him a grin.

"Daddy, you can stop that right now! If I want to take you both out to dinner, I can well and truly afford it."

Aileen laughed and patted his hand. "Ben, let the girl pay the bill. It's very nice of you, Dacey, thank you."

He knew when he was outnumbered, and leaned over to kiss his daughter's cheek. "Thank you, princess."

Back in her bedroom at the ranch, Dacey changed into her pyjamas, carefully packing her clothes away. She had to leave the next day, to drive to Shreveport for the house show, and then on the following day to Baton Rouge. She climbed into bed, nestling her head into the pillow with a quiet sigh. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she wasn't sure whether she was any clearer about her relationship with Glenn. She did love him, but she found it hard to put aside her worries still.

When she rose the next morning, she showered and dressed before coming downstairs for breakfast, bringing her laptop with her. She set the laptop down on the dining room table on her way to the kitchen, kissing her father's cheek in passing as she went to help her mother.

"Daddy, do you mind if I connect my laptop to your network this morning? I need to check my emails and make sure that nothing's changed for the show tonight before I leave for Shreveport."

"Go right ahead, princess," Ben said, folding up his newspaper as he spoke.

After helping her mother clear away the breakfast dishes, Dacey booted up her laptop, sitting at the dining room table. Her father might be old fashioned about some things, she mused, but he'd embraced the technological age with a passion, having a home network that was state of the art. Her mother loved it, because it let her keep up with her family in Ireland, and the many friends they had around the world from their army days.

Right now, though, Dacey just needed to check her email. She scrolled quickly through the new messages, making sure there was nothing from the bookers, and then double checked the details for her trip to Shreveport. She was about to shut her laptop off when her mother appeared at her side, smiling at her. She held a book out to her daughter, the title of which was "A knock at the door".

Dacey looked up at her mother in surprise. "What's this, mam?"

Aileen smiled. "Well, it's something that I think you might like, mo iníon. More important than that, I think it's something you need to see - I think it will help." She bent to kiss Dacey's cheek. "Watch it now, it's not very long."

Dacey opened the book, and saw the DVD inside it, placing it in her laptop to play it. The music swelled from the laptop's small speaker, Celtic-inspired, full of strings and pipes, and Dacey watched in wonder as a series of glorious pieces of fantasy art were shown, illustrating the words of the piece:

When was the last time you
. . . had a conversation
With the moon?
Made a wish
On a falling star?
Held hope on a string . . .
of delicate things?

When was the last time you
Got lost . . .
in an enchanted wood?
or were kissed a prince
who turned into a frog?
Consulted a caterpillar?
Kidnapped a myth?
Had a visit
From your faery Godmother
Who turned pumpkins . . . into coaches . . .
And wishes
To wings?

When was the last time you
Cried lost tears
into the Lake of Longing?
or sipped inspiration
from the pool of wonder?
Or rose, victorious,
Like a phoenix . . .
From the ashes?

When did you last . . .
Lay your head in the lap of awe
and listen to a song . . .
from a distant shore . . .
called home?

The time is now
Leap!
Soar
Explore
Remember your dreams
and unseen things
Sing with rapture
and dance . . .
dance . . .
dance like a dervish
and when imagination knocks
. . . open the door

(A Knock at the Door - Duirwaigh Gallery) *

At first, she noticed only the art, but then, the words and the music began to speak to her, and tears welled in her eyes. By the time it had ended, she was sobbing, and her mother's arms were around her, soothing her. All her fears, her worries, her confusion poured out of her in a flood of tears as her mother rocked her gently. "Shhh, Dacey, it's alright. I know, mo iníon."

Gradually, her tears stopped, and she sat up, scrubbing at her eyes with her hands until her mother handed her a tissue. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Why did you show that to me, mam?"

Aileen smiled. "Because I thought it might help."

Suprisingly, Dacey did feel a little better, but she was still confused. Her mother nodded at her expression. "Dacey, your father told me what you and he talked about, your worries about your relationship with Glenn. And he's right, you know - you're trying to let your head rule your heart. And if you do, you might well throw away your chance at something glorious."

As Dacey was about to speak, Aileen held a finger to her daughter's lips. "Hear me, mo iníon. Aye, there's a chance it will all go wrong, and that would be a terrible thing, and you will feel as if your heart was utterly broken. But would you rather have a broken heart over a relationship that was timid and tentative, or over one that was passionate and exciting, and full of joy?"

She cupped her daughter's cheek, smiling at her. "You are my child, Dacey - and your spirit is as fey and feckless as any Celt, when you allow it to be. I just want you to know the wonder and passion of allowing that part of you to express itself. Let yourself love, Dacey - and love wholeheartedly, without fear or reservation. You're level-headed enough not to be swept up completely and lose sight of what else is important in life."

Dacey cast a look at the book which lay open on the table, showing a print of one of the images from the film, running her fingertips over it gently. Her voice was soft. "The time is now . . . "

Aileen smiled. "Aye, it is. And love is like imagination, mo iníon - when it knocks, you must open the door to it, lest you keep it from you forever."

Chapter 13

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* http://www.duirwaighgallery.com/inspiration_duirwaighfilms.php#