As usual, Alta May Jennings looked every bit her name-old and boring. The fact that she was only twenty-five didn't matter. She stared back through dark-rimmed glasses at her reflection dressed in a beige suit, hair pulled into a tight bun. She cursed the soul who invented the "power suit." Deciding not to depress herself any further, she turned away from the bathroom mirror and headed for the door, grabbing her briefcase on the way.

Locking the door, she looked over to see Shannon Moore give her a friendly wave from a few doors down the way. Trying to not blush, she nodded back before turning and practically fleeing in the other direction. Never mind the fact that he was headed to the same location as she. However, on her quest of evasion, she couldn't help but to let her mind wander. I wonder what kind of girl he goes for…probably the type with big breasts and small brains…just like the rest of them.

Shaking her head, she cast the renegade thought aside. Why should she care what he went for? She didn't even know him, really. He may as well just be another slave to the company, just like everyone else. Just like her; A slave to conformity…to boring…to lame. Perhaps his slavery wasn't as deep seeded as hers-she was willing to bet he at least knew how to have fun every now and then, which is more than she could boast. True to her appearance and name, Alta May Jennings was a stiff-pale and boring in a world of color and music.

As she reached the entrance to the hotel's conference room, she noticed two things: 1) she was very close to being late, and 2) she had forgotten her notes. Shit. For a brief moment, she thought about running back to get them, but she knew she'd never make it. Glancing at the clock on the far wall, she immediately dashed away all remaining hope that this might not turn into the huge disaster she anticipated. She was going to have to do her presentation based on memory. Not good. With a shaky hand, she opened the door and prepared to meet her fate.

"Ah, Ms. Jennings, you finally decided to join us," Shane McMahon half-smiled as she made her way to her empty seat. Turning to the ECW brand team and wrestlers he then said, "I'd like to introduce everyone here to our new ECW Live Event Marketing Representative. She'll be working to make sure we do all we can to keep our fan attendance up while we're on the road. With that said, I'd like to turn the spotlight over to her and let her introduce herself. Ms. Jennings?"

"Hi," she said, standing with legs of jell-o, "I'm just going to talk really quick about our ratings-"

"Ms. Jennings," Rob Van Dam's voice came out from the left, "do you go by something a bit less prudish?"

"Hmm…" she cleared her throat, "excuse me?" She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.

"I think what he means is," another voice, this time from one of the writers, spoke, "we're all on a first-name basis here…"

"Oh!" she relaxed a little, "Right…Um…May. You can call me May."

Another voice called out from what seemed like a crowd of a thousand people, "May? What's May got to do with anything? It's September!" A comment to which everyone seemed to find very humorous.

"Hey now," Shane finally cut in, "That's enough of that. Ms. Jennings-May-has a job to do and you'd all do well to let her get on with it. It's getting late and I haven't had dinner yet." He then turned to May, "Don't worry about them; they're just trying to get you frazzled."

"R-right," she stuttered. "Um…like I was saying, there are just a few things I wanted to go over with all of you concerning new endorsement laws and practices as well as inter-brand promotion." Taking a steadying breath she began her lecture on the new laws, basically enforced for the rights of the wrestlers and how the new promotions would be taking place. Besides having forgotten her notes, she thought she did fairly well. She managed to keep everyone awake, except for one: Shannon Moore. How rude, she thought. Granted the topic was lame, but how could one fall asleep, especially when it concerned ones job? Am I really that boring?


May flipped off the television and glanced at the clock: 1:33 am. It had been late when she finally made it back to her room the other night too. The meeting had ended at 8:30 pm, but a few of her fellow promotion colleagues wanted to discuss future business remedies over dinner. By the time they were done it was already ten-forty. She hadn't been able to sleep then, either. Tonight was no different.

Her day had been spent doing the usual. She woke up, she ate breakfast, looked over prospective advertisements, had lunch, made calls, had dinner, and now here she was. One-thirty in the morning, and she was no closer to sleep now than she was the night of the meeting. She just felt so restless. Work was going great, but that fact did nothing to shake the funk she had fallen into. She kept feeling like she needed to do something-anything. Anything but "the usual," the expected, the same damn thing over and over again. She wanted to feel exciting, worthwhile. Hell, she wanted to let loose and have fun!

But how? She wondered. Pushing herself off the couch, she made her way to window and gazed out on the Carolina shoreline. May wished she could be free like the ocean-flowing, strong, and beautiful. I want to be like that…I want to be part of that. Sighing she turned away, and then stopped. Why the Hell not? Without giving any thought to what she was about to do, her own safety, or the fact that it was almost two in the morning and likely freezing outside, May left her room and fled to the nearby sands.

She had never felt such exhilaration in her life. The sand was soft and warm on her feet as she came closer to the hypnotic crashing and churning that was the ocean. She felt her insignificance as she stared out at the vastness of it. Cool water came into contact with her toes, sending tiny goose bumps all over her flesh. The water was probably freezing, but not enough so to deter her from her mission. I'll likely have hypothermia by the morning…but it was only a fleeting thought as she stripped off her night shirt and slowly waded in. Not too far, but far enough to submerse herself from the waist down.

Amazing…I never would have thought-May was shaken from her musings when she felt something come into contact with her bare skin. Before she was able to assess her surroundings, she came charging from the water, screaming like a banshee. "Help, somebody help, oh God!" All knowledge of her nakedness was completely forgotten, and at the sound of someone approaching she thanked her lucky stars.

"Hello! Miss!" the voice said as it came closer.

May was about to call out when she suddenly remembered her current state. Oh my gosh! What am I gonna do? I'm naked. Where's my robe? Oh no. Frantically, her eyes darted around in the darkness. The voice, which belonged to a man, kept beckoning to her.

"Mam? Are you alright? I heard you scre-"

"I'm fine. I just…um…thought I saw something. But I didn't and I'm fine now…so…um…please go away now," she said shakily, frantically digging a whole in the sand for which to hide.

Shannon stopped dead in his tracks, "Ms. Jennings? Is-is that you?"

"What? Wh-Who's there?" May asked as she began to dig faster. Please just go away, whoever you are…

"It's Shannon…Shannon Moore with ECW," Shannon squinted to see if he could locate her, "If there's someone bothering you-"

"No! There's no one bothering me," except you, "I was just startled that's all."

Shannon wasn't buying it. Too many times he had heard about women getting mugged or raped on the beach at night. Just what the hell was she doing out here all alone anyway? "Still, why don't I walk you back to your room? You shouldn't be out here alone. It isn't safe." Something moving caught his eye and he began to walk forward. "Look, I know it's none of my business and all but I really just don't think you outta-"

May looked up from the sand at a very startled, shocked, and confused Shannon Moore. There she was, covered in sand, and to no avail. "Why didn't you just go back! I am so embarrassed!"

"I-" Shannon stuttered, trying to keep himself from looking, but look he did and he was sorry for it when his gaze met her shame-filled eyes, "I'm sorry. I had no idea. You screamed and I thought someone was in trouble. Why did you scream if you weren't in trouble?" She's gorgeous under all that prim and proper shit. He cursed himself for being so insensitive to what was obviously not a good time to be checking her out.

May could feel the sting of tears coming to her eyes, but she would not let herself do it. She couldn't completely lose her composure. She had to get out of here with some sense of her pride in tact. "Why did you have to play hero? I screamed for divine intervention, not you!"

"My mistake," he admitted, "listen…" He looked around nervously, clearly liking the situation less and less every moment. "Do you maybe have some clothes lying around here somewhere-never mind," he shook his head as he pulled his shirt off. "Use this," he said in offering.

With shaky hands, May took the shirt he offered to her and quickly pulled it on. It covered her all the way down to her knees, and it never felt so good to be clothed. Teeth chattering she drew her arms about herself, "Th-thank you. I have to get b-back now. I'm s-sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay. Here, let me walk you," he said, full of relief that she was no longer standing in front of him in the buff. A man can only endure so much. "It's not safe on any beach at night; I don't care how fancy the hotel is."

"That's alright. I don't-"

"Don't even think about it. You're only a couple doors down from me, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Shannon insisted.

Begrudgingly, May followed alongside him, the sand no longer a comforting presence to her feet.


This is my first start at another story in about three years. I hope it's to your liking. I've been on the shelf for a very, very long time with a severe case of writer's block. Tell me what you think. I love reviews. Please forgive the typos. I'm in a rush.