Ainsley Lake sits in the large waiting room, oddly nervous. After all the time she's spent in this office, and all the time she has spent speaking with Sean Boden about both professional and private matters, she should be comfortable. Ainsley had a sneaking suspicion that one of the main reasons for her discomfort was the sheer size of the chairs. DSI did it's dealings with the men and women in the wrestling world, and tiny chairs simply wouldn't do for the huge people coming in and out of this office every day.

The chairs only served to make Ainsley feel small and weak.

The tapping of the keyboard seemed to echo in the room, as Louisa Mae Bellamy (god help you if you call her anything longer than Lou) typed furiously. What she is working on that has kept her so entertained for so long is still unverified, but she's extremely absorbed. If she notices that Ainsley's in the office, she doesn't make any outward sign to show it.

"Thanks for talking sense into me when I was in the NAFW, Lou."

She knew better than to make demands of Boden's lunatic secretary, even if those demands were as simple as, 'Do your job.'

Lou looked over, as if startled that there was another voice in the room. She went back to typing almost as quickly.

"Oh, hey, Ains, you're welcome. When'd you show up?"

"It's only been a few minutes. Didn't wanna interrupt."

She looks over to Sean Boden's door, and sighs. A quick glance at the clock shows that she's still 10 minutes early. Ten minutes of sitting still and listening to the unresponsive Lou type.

"Oh."

Lou didn't make any effort to save Ainsley the discomfort of sitting in an empty lobby listening to her mindless tapping on the keyboard. She stared ahead, engrossed, not saying a word. Someone with some consideration for others might have attempted to end the awkward silence, but Lou really didn't give a shit.

Politeness. Over.

"Whatcha typin', LadyGirl?"

"Oh, this? I've been cybering with three people at a time pretty much since I got here this morning. Don't tell Sean. Most of these guys are pretty boring, though. Fun to screw with 'em, either way."

Ainsley jumps up from the chair, amused, and leans over Lou's shoulder to read. "Ooo! Did you put on your robe and wizard hat yet?" After a moment more of reading, Ainsley's jaw drops. "Lou... You're evil."

The big mahogany doors open, and Boden looks out into the office... and sees nobody sitting on the other side of his secretary's desk.

"Lou, is Ainsley..."

He looks at Lou and Ainsley, staring at the screen of the computer, and although he can't tell what they're writing, he knows it can't be work-related.

"...here? What are you two doing?"

Ainsley stands up, hitting alt + f4 as she does. "She's crap with computers. I wanted to make it go faster."

"Uh-huh. And I assume that involved telling truant teenage boys that you're her girlfriend?"

"I cannot and will not attest to the age of educational status of anyone Lou may or may not have been in contact with."

"But not the claims of romantic involvement. Interesting. Come in, have a seat." He held the door open for her, then looked back at Lou. "I'm uninstalling AIM and setting up administrative access."

"Oh, c'mon, Sean, it's--" Lou was cut off by the door closing.

"I don't do girls, Sean, you know that. Stop trying." Ainsley sighed as she sat down, slightly more comfortable in here than in the larger room. "Sorry about that. Lou can be... a distraction."

He walked back behind his desk, cane in hand, sitting down, and shuffling a few papers. "Yes, I'm well aware. That's why I keep her here instead of letting her go down to, say, the law department. Terrible idea."

He pulled a sheet out of the stack he was dealing with, and turned it around to her. "Read this over. It's your contract for LEGACY, and I'd like you to sign it."

"Wait, what? Isn't LEGACY a touring promotion?" She takes the papers, but she shakes her head without looking at them. "Sean, I just uprooted everything and moved to North Carolina to be in SHOOT Project, and that folded on itself before the show even aired. And now you want me to constantly be on the road?"

"It's a 3-month contract, and you're not looking at as much of a commitment as you might be thinking. Just read over the contract. If you like the way it goes, we sign you for another 3 months. If not, then we pull you when it's over. Do you not think you can handle it?"

"That's exactly what I think. I'm not doing it."

"I believe this is the part of the meeting where I remind you that I'm the boss and you're the employee. You don't want to wrestle? Fine. You're still going, however. Congratulations on being CJ and Jared's new valet. Is that a little more your speed?"

Her mouth drops open, and she sits silently. After a while, she finally thinks to close her mouth. Her eyes are wide, and she shakes her head. "Y- you're serious?"

"Look, I have a business to run. I signed a deal with Belote to get my best and brightest on his show, and I'm going to do that, no matter what means I may have to take. You're going in some capacity... what capacity that is is completely up to you. You don't like the idea of doing a run as a wrestler, then yes, I am entirely serious."

"I- Sean, when did you get the idea that I'm one of the best? I suck, you saw me in the NAFW. It was pathetic."

He puts his face in his hand on the desk, looking across at her. "Tell me this isn't going to be an Ainsley self-pity moment, because it's lame. The NAFW was crap, and they didn't know how to use the talent they had. I've known Belote for a while, and I don't believe you're gonna have that problem there. Besides, whether you believe it isn't the point, it's that I do, and so do half-ton of people out there. Not to mention your TOC performance."

"Sean, this entire industry is crap. I should go back to school. Get my GED, get a degree in programming or something."

"Yeah, I suppose you should. While you're out there, maybe you could take a couple of courses in contract law. You signed with me, Ains, and at the very least, you're going to run the rest of that contract."

He sighs, looking across the desk, almost pleading. "Look, Ains, I don't like being a hardass with someone I consider a friend, but I pay you a pretty good amount of money, and I don't ask for a whole lot in return, just that you do the job you were hired to do. If you can't do that, then you're going to do the job I assign you. It's that simple."

"I'll do what I have to do..." She bites back the phrase that was almost on her lips, but she knows that Sean heard the silent finish to the sentence, despite the fact that the words 'to survive' never left her mouth. "...Because you're my friend, and I'm not going to screw you."

"And hey, you never know. Some people out there might end up disappointed that you're not wrestling and maybe come out of the woodwork to try to convince you otherwise. Hypothetically speaking, of course. I wouldn't know who those people might be." He couldn't be more transparent if he were made of plastic.

"Crazy boys use crazy talk to say crazy things." She places the contract on Boden's desk, a small smile on her face. "Can you get a new contract drawn up for me? And can you tell me who my hypothetical savior is?"

"Yes, I can get a new contract. No, I can't tell you who your savior is. Don't know. Hasn't saved you yet. Besides, if you can't figure out who I might be talking about by now, then it doesn't much matter."

He stands up, cane in hand, walking around the desk, and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You'll be fine. Don't be so hard on yourself. Now go, I have another meeting with Ryan to discuss some things, and I need you to scare the crap out of Lou as you leave."

"How?"

"I dunno, I figure you just startle her, honstly. She won't hit you like she will me. You figure it out."

Ainsley shakes her head, but ducks down into her patented 'Super Seekrit Stealth Ninja Mode' anyway. She listens to the tap tap tap of Lou taking advantage of her last precious time before Boden has AIM blocked. She watches as the only muscles Lou moves are those that control her fingers... And she leaps at Lou, grabbing her shoulders and shouting.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, are you trying to make me pee my pants?! God!"

Ainsley turns to Boden and shrugs.

"Need me for anything else?"

"Nope. Have a good one. If you see Ryan, be sure to comment on how Nordic his beard looks, by the way."

"Wait, Lenore doesn't look Nordic at all!"

"Ooh, good one, I'll have to remember that."

"You're welcome. Next time I'm here, I'll have a pen ready."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, sitting in a hotel room in Deep Ellum, Ainsley stared at the clock. She had left her cat, her computer, and her bo- And ERIC back at the apartment, but she had brought one small piece of home to last her through the night until her plane the next afternoon.

Her attention moved to the dusty red rose that was a perpetual source of comfort for her.

"If that sonnuvabitch thinks he's got any right to save me, he's got another thing coming."

((Sean Boden used with permission, and cooperation.))