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The Fine Line Between Love and Hate	By : wandaXmaximoff Category: WWF/WWE > General Views: 1906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrities of WWE/WWF. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author's Notes: Thanks to Reirei fro my only review – I'm glad you're enjoying the stoy.
In addition, thanks to Gin, who bea'd this fic when it was originally posted.

For disclaimers etc, see chapter one.

****

Chapter two: Truth or Dare?

At six am on Wednesday morning, Sam's alarm sounded, accompanied by sleepy moans from Melina and Sam promptly shut off the sound. Stretching and rubbing her eyes, the blonde climbed out of bed. She dressed in sweats as they were comfortable to travel in and packed her case, almost forgetting her make-up bag.

By seven, a tired looking Samantha was waiting for her companions in the hotel lobby.
Her blonde hair was pulled up into an untidy ponytail and there was no make-up on her pale face.
Feeling it was still too early to eat; Sam skipped getting any food, knowing she could eat on the plane.

With in minutes Mike and Cheryl arrived; the black haired man looked unusually chipper for such an unearthly hour, whereas the red head looked pretty much like her worn out friend.

They clambered into a cab stowing their cases in the trunk.
As they got onto the road, the sound of Linkin Park blasting from the driver’s C.D player shook all three awake.

“Sorry, I forgot it was so loud,” he apologised.

The two women merely nodded and closed their eyes. Within fifteen minutes they had arrived at the O'Hare Airport.

As it wasn't even eight O'clock, the airport was fairly quiet and check in was simple. Sam and Mike's flight was at nine am, meaning they'd arrive in Des Moines around noon. That would give them plenty of time to freshen up, grab a bite of lunch and make their way to the arena.
Cheryl's flight was at nine-thirty, meaning she'd be reunited with her husband no later than two O'clock.
All three put their cases on the respective luggage carousels and took seats in the waiting area.
None of the travellers were up to doing much, so they just chatted while they waited for the Iowa flight to be called.

“What are your plans for the next few days then, Cheryl?” asked Samantha.

“Well Dave has a house show tonight, so I'll go with him to that. Then we've both got Thursday off, so I guess we'll go back to home for a bit. What about you, what are you doing with your free day?”

“I really don't know, I'm half tempted to go straight from Des Moines to Missouri and stay in a hotel,” replied Sam, who never planned her days off unless she had something important to do, so just went with how she felt on the day.

At eight-thirty, the boarding call for the Iowa flight came, and Samantha and Mike said good-bye to Cheryl and made their way to the waiting area.

“Have a nice day off with Dave, I hope you have fun.”

“You enjoy your day off too, Sam. I'll see you Friday,” replied Cheryl.

The flight assistant checking the tickets was nothing but annoying, and Samantha waited impatiently to board her flight. As bad luck would have it, Mike and Samantha didn't have seats together, so the blonde woman was anxious to see whom she'd be sitting by.

As the small flight attendant called the row of Mike‘s seat, Sam heard someone shouting her.

“Sam?”

She wheeled around and saw John Cena.

“Oh, hi,” she replied.

“I guess Dusty told you about getting to the arena early then?”

“Yeah, that's why I'm here, isn't it?” answered the woman, thinking what an idiot he was.

“Mike not with you then?”

“Yeah, he is actually. His seat row has just been called.”

“So you're not sitting together? Who you sitting with? I hope I'm not stuck with some old lady,” he said, jerking the ticket from Sam's hand to see her seat number.

His face lit up, as he read seat 47, which unbeknownst to Sam was next to his.

“Thank you, I'll have that back if you don't mind,” she said, pulling the ticket away.

Her face dropped as she realised she'd grabbed his ticket by mistake and noticed his seat number.

“That's just great,” she muttered.

“I guess it looks like you'll be stuck with me for three hours,” Cena said, a smirk playing on his face.

“Yeah, thank god I have a good book.”

“Row twenty,” called the attendant.

Sam handed her ticket to the small black haired woman, with a look accusing her of seating her with a man she hated on purpose.

As she walked onto the plane, she heard the woman call “row twenty,” again.

Sam sighed, resigned to the fact this flight wasn't going to be a good one. As if to add to her annoyance, Sam saw that Mike was seated five rows behind her, so there was no chance she could speak to him without shouting.
On a brighter note, she had the window seat, so at least she had something to do, even if it was looking at clouds.

Cena took the seat next to her, grinning broadly.

Jesus, it's only a three hour flight, what's he so excited about?

As soon as the plane took off Sam jammed headphones into her ears and opened her book, listening to nothing but wanting an excuse not to talk.

“How can you read and listen to music?” Cena asked, pulling the headphone from Sam's ear.

“Easy, like this,” she replied, shoving the small speaker back.

The headphone came away again, “But you haven't even got any music on, I never heard any.”

“Well maybe I just don't want to talk to you.”

“Well you're going to have to get use to it; we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”

Don't remind me.

“So, what do you want me to do? Play eye spy with you?” she bit out.

“Man, what's your problem? Is it that time of the month or something?”

Samantha turned beetroot red with rage.

“You! You're my problem!” she replied, not realising she was shouting and causing everyone to look.

The waitress with the drinks trolley broke the tension.

“Would you like any refreshments?”

What I want is a seat on a plane, going a hundred miles in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, can I get a soda please?”

“There you go, sir. Miss, anything for you?”

“Yeah, can I get a bottle of water please?”

The waitress handed Samantha a bottle of still water and she drank from it greedily.

For about ten minutes, Sam stared at the same page in her book, not reading a word.

Cena sat bopping his head to what ever he was listening too.
Noticing that Sam was no longer reading, he took out the headphones and smiled at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,”

“No, tell me. What are you stupidly grinning at? You've been like this ever since you sat down.”

“Nothing, I'm just enjoying sitting next to you,” he smirked.

Sam turned her head to look out the window and felt a tap on her shoulder as she did. The contact caused the same intense feeling as it had done the day before.

“Yes?”

“I though you were going to play eye spy with me?”

Sam crinkled up her face in disdain but replied never the less.

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with SOJ.”

“Sexy old John?” he asked.

Sam had to hide a giggle.“No, stupid obnoxious jerk,” she said and turned away.

Nothing was said between the two for about half an hour and Samantha began to doze off.
Awakening from her nap, she saw Cena looking at her.

“You can't sleep, it’s my go. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with MB.”

“Manky banana,” replied Sam, indicating to the small child in front's snack.

“Wrong, guess again.”

“I don't care, so you can just tell me.”

“Moody bitch,” Cena answered.

Sam felt her stomach tighten with rage, and she had to refrain her self from putting her hands around his throat and chocking him.

“Your turn.”

“Are you really so stupid as to think I want to play some childish guessing game with you?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I don't want to, so get lost.”

“You love it really.”

“Does it look as though I'm enjoying this?”

“You wouldn't still be responding if you weren't.”

Sam had to admit, he'd got her there. Why was she still falling for his lame attempt to wind her up?

At a loss for a witty retort, Sam turned away again but was once more pulled back by his touch.

“Ok, we'll play something different. But as you chose eye spy, it's my turn to pick.”

Sam failed to respond, so he continued. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“What are we, twelve?”

“I'll take that as a yes. Alright Sammy, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Sam took a minute to answer, “Why do you taunt me so much?”

“No, you haven't answered my question. Thems the rules.”

“I don't hate you, I just can't stand being around you,” she replied truthfully.

Cena looked taken aback, as though no woman alive would be unable to resist his charm.

“You go then,” he said sheepishly.

“Why do you taunt me so much?” Sam asked again.

“I don't know ? I dunno, I guess it's just so easy.”

Sam let out a hollow laugh but indicated for him to go on.

“Truth or dare?”

Not wanting to answer any more personal questions, she replied with “dare.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“You heard.”

“No.”

“But it's the rules. You agreed to play, so you gotta do the dare.”

“No.”

“Chicken.”

“I'm not chicken.”

“Prove it.”

Not knowing what had overtaken her, Sam closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss him. A jolt ran through her body as their lips brushed. She was about to pull away but felt a hand cupping her head and holding it in place. The kiss deepened and Sam swooned, feeling like 200 volts had just run through her.

They broke apart and Sam remained with her eyes closed, letting out a deep breath.

What the hell had just happened? I've just snogged John Cena, a man I despised. Why did I do it and why was it so nice?

Sam opened her eyes and stared out of the window, not wanting to look Cena in the eye.
He made no move to talk to her or gain her attention again and they remained silent for the rest of the flight.

Not soon enough for her liking, the plane landed. Within seconds of being informed that they could take their belts off, Sam was on her feet and walking down the aisle, not once looking back at Cena.

In the waiting room, the air was hot, and Mike couldn't arrive soon enough. Sam wanted to get the hell out of here and to her hotel room. She barely looked up as Cena passed her, bopping to his I-pod.

“Hey, you got off the plane quickly. Are you alright?” asked Mike, taking one look at his best friend's face and knowing something was very wrong.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she lied.

“I saw you arguing with Cena on the plane. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Mike knew not to ask any more questions. They made their way out of the airport and quickly jumped into a cab to the hotel. Pretending she was feeling unwell, Sam went straight to her room.

Arriving in her room, Sam realised she hadn't eaten all day and ordered a tuna sandwich from room service. All she could manage to do was pick at the sandwich though as her head was preoccupied.

Why did I fall for Cena's taunts and kiss him? More importantly, why did I enjoy it so much? How the hell will I be able to work with him now?

Putting the whole experience down to lack of sleep, food and being a hundred miles up in the sky, Sam pushed the thoughts out of her head and tried to eat.

After finishing her sandwich, Sam decided to forget about the whole ordeal and go back to hating him.

A call from Mike reminded her that they had to be at the arena in an hour and a half. Samantha showered and changed, then packed her wrestling gear into her sports bag, not looking forwards to what was coming.

She arrived in the lobby to find Mike and Cena waiting for her.

This retched day just keeps getting better.

“You feeling any better?” Mike asked, as she set down her bag.

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied.

Neither she nor Cena looked at each other, and she could feel the tension in the air. It was like the feeling before a storm and electricity crackled between the pair.
Saying nothing more, the trio got into a cab and headed for the arena.

Sam hurried into the woman's locker room, and thankfully, no one was there. She guessed everyone would be arriving later and was glad of the peace.

She changed in record speed, resenting everything about her appearance.

Slowly, Sam walked to the ring and found Mike, Cena and Dusty Rhodes waiting for her.

She took the empty seat next to Mike, looking at no one.

“Right, first off how about you just get warmed up,” instructed Dusty.

The three wrestlers climbed into the ring and , after some stretches, took it in turns to grapple and do basic moves on each other. Sam and Mike worked easily together, as always. Cena and Mike worked well, showing their professionalism. As Mike leaned back on the ropes to rest, Sam and Cena locked in to an uneasy grapple. Both were trying so hard not to touch the other too much, and never uttered a word to each other. The tension was agonising and Sam wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“What's going on? The pair of you look scared to death. You do realise that in four days you'll be working constantly with each other, pretending to be a couple,” said Dusty.

Both Cena and Sam muttered an unconvincing “Sorry,” and went to it again, but nothing had changed and the hold was still unnatural.

“Ok, stop. You two obviously have some problem with each other and I heard about your fight on the plane. It's too late to change Sunday's match now, so I want you two to go and sort what ever this is out,” said Dusty, his voice stern.

Sam and Cena climbed out of the ring, looking forlorn, and made their way backstage.

Neither spoke for a few minutes until Cena said, “Well?”

“Well what? What the hell did you kiss me for?”

“You kissed me first,” he shrugged.

“Bull shit! You made that stupid dare and wouldn't let it drop,” screamed Sam. ”You were the one that when I tried to pull away, held me there and stuck your tongue down my throat.”

“You enjoyed it!” came the reply, Cena's voice now as loud as Sam's.

Alerted by all the noise, Mike came to see what was going on, as Cena walked back to the ring.

“You kissed? You two kissed? When? Where? Sam, were you ever going to tell me? I thought you hated him.”

“I do,” was all Sam said, before storming off.

After ten minutes, Sam had calmed down a little and she returned to the ring. Cena and Mike were going through the finish to Sunday's match with Dusty watching. All were acting as if nothing had happened.

“Right, now that you're back Sam, get into the ring and go through your part for Sunday,” said Dusty.

Sam nodded and got into the ring. Mike had just hit his finisher, the 'Summer time' and was about to go for the pin.

Sam grabbed the title belt and smacked Mike around the head with it, Cena then lifted his opponent up into the 'F U'. He hit his mark and the three count was called. Knowing that things didn't end there, Sam ran over to Cena and raised his hand, faking a look of jubilation. The newly united couple hugged briefly before breaking apart to look at Dusty.

“Are you ok? I didn't hit you too hard, did I?” Sam whispered to Mike.

“Nah, I'm fine. You ok?”

Sam nodded.

Dusty looked at the three wrestlers, and he didn't seem pleased.

“Well, the wrestling was sound. However, there's no emotion. This woman has just turned on her boyfriend and joined his opponent. Because of her, Cena, you've retained the title. Mike, you were fine, I don't think there's anything you need to improve on. Sam, you've just betrayed your boyfriend and you're meant to be celebrating with the Champion, enjoying the glory.”

The trio remained silent, so Dusty went on.

“I want to see some action. Since we lost Edge and Lita to ECW, there's hasn't been a really hot pair of heels. Come on guys, think of when Trish betrayed Jericho and joined Christian at Wrestlemainia.”

Still nobody spoke.

“Cena, Sam has just won you the title. Don't just briefly hug the woman, she's meant to mean everything to you, you're meant to think she's the hottest diva ever. Sam, you're meant to seem like you really want Cena; you've turned on your boyfriend to be with this better man. No offence Mike.
I want to see some heat, some chemistry. Come on, if things don't improve I'm going to have to re-book the whole thing, and you know what that means. Let’s try it again.”

Sam was half-tempted to mess up again on purpose; if Dusty thought she and Cena had no chemistry, he'd scrap the match and she could forget the whole thing. However, she knew what this push would mean to Mike, he'd make it to main event and she couldn't do it to her best friend.

They ran through the finish to the match again. But this time when Sam raised Cena's hand, he grabbed her around the waist and arched her back low, so her hair swept the canvas. Then leaning down, his blue eyes meeting hers for the first time all night, he kissed her. It was just like when they'd kissed on the plane, passionate and full of heat. Sam felt the now familiar and pleasurable crackle of electricity between them. As the kiss deepened and Cena still held onto her waist, Sam swooned.

It was like nothing else she'd felt before and for the minutes they were joined nothing else existed. No ring, no Mike and Dusty, no burning hatred.

They broke apart and Sam stood upright, to see Mike and Dusty staring at them with open mouths.

“Excellent. Do that on Sunday and you'll have the whole arena buzzing,” said the booker.

Sam stared at the floor, finding the canvas the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

“Well, we’re done here guys. I'll see you tonight for the match.”

Sam ran to the locker room before anyone could stop her, wishing so hard that Cheryl was here.
The diva was out of luck though, her friend was miles away with her husband, and the only person in the room was Rebecca.

Sam swore under her breath at the sight of the other woman. This was the last thing she needed.
However, not wanting to go outside to the backstage area, Sam sat down.

“Aw, Sammy you look all flushed. Having a bad time of it?”

Sam didn't dignify the taunt with a response; instead, she remained silent, waiting for someone else to enter.

As if answering her prayers, Melina walked in.

“Melina, can I have a word some where private,” said the blonde.

“Sure,” the new arrival said, heading back out of the room.

The two divas found a quiet corner backstage, and Sam began to speak. Her head was spinning and her thoughts were unclear, but she needed to get them out.
“Me and John Cena just kissed.”

“Well, I guess it is kind of expected with your match on Sunday.”

“Yeah, but it wasn't the first time. He kissed me today on the plane.”

“He did what? Jonny kept that quiet. I never knew he liked you.”

“He doesn't.”

“Why did he kiss you then?”

“I...I..dunno. He was trying to wind me up I guess.”

“Well that's a funny way to wind someone up.”

“God, he just annoys me so much. Ever time I'm around him, I want to scream and punch him.”

Melina frowned.

“I hate him, I just hate him. Why does he have to be such an egotistical prat?”

“I dunno, Sam. But what you going to do? You'll be working so closely with him, seeing him every day. And with this new gimmick you'll be kissing him a hell of a lot more.”

“I know, I'll go insane. I can't stand to be in the same room as him, let alone kiss him again. I'm just going to have to quit, there's nothing else for it,” sighed the blonde.

“Don't be stupid, you can't quit just because you don't like kissing someone. You'll just have to deal with it, I dunno; pretend he's Brad Pitt or something.”

Sam burst out laughing.

“Thanks, you're right. I'm just being silly, I'll be fine,” said Sam, not feeling too sure she would be.

That night's match was like a living hell. Sam was now managing Cena, testing out the crowd's reaction. He was in a one-on-one match with Charlie Hass. Mike was up earlier, against Mark Jindrak.

Neither Sam nor Cena looked at each other during the match, and so they wouldn't give anything about 'Vengeance' away she simply raised his hand when he won, relieved there was no more kissing involved.

On her way back to the locker room at the end of the show, Cena stopped Sam.

“Can we talk later? Meet me in the bar?”

“Yeah, alright,” was all Sam said.
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The Fine Line Between Love and Hate