Disclaimer: I only own my OCs. CM Punk belongs to himself and anything else belongs to their respective owners. Kapeesh? :)
A/N: I had to. It was brewing in my mind. Enjoy Punk lovers and Happy Thanksgiving to all! :)
Phil Brooks wasn't the thankful type. Not even in the slightest bit. He'd come from a broken family, a father who spent Phil's childhood off drinking, coming home drunk in the middle of the night, screaming and ranting to his sleeping mother. Thanksgiving at the Brooks' house involved a little over-done Turkey, leaky mashed potatoes, and most of all: a ton of fighting.
That is why he didn't celebrate it in his adult life. While his co-workers were out and about, spending the day so very cherished by some, Phil sat at home, in Chicago, the TV playing some mid-day soap opera. It seemed right to him. Everyone else went along with the flow, and he, the 'punk' went off and made his own path.
No one said you have to celebrate Thanksgiving, right?
A knock on the door made Phil jump, he wasn't expecting company, nor did he exactly want it. Slowly, his rose from his soft chair and went to the door. It opened with a loud squeak, revealing a pretty woman who seemed to be in her mid-twenties. Phil tried to not notice how smoking hot she was, the way her curves fit her perfectly, in the sweater dress she was wearing.
Screw straight-edge, he wanted to kiss her right there! The damn woman was hot.
"Hello?" she said with a smile.
Right, I'm supposed to ask why she's here, Phil thought, attempting to look semi-normal. "Hi," Phil replied slowly. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah," she said, another smile coming onto her face. Her blue eyes shined beautifully behind her side-swept bangs. A lone tattoo sat on her leg, some Chinese symbol he could not identify. (As if he'd taken the time to learn Chinese.) "Uhm, I'm your neighbor's company, we were wondering if you had a little extra milk we could borrow."
People still did that? Phil was a little surprised. He was more surprised that he had to tell her no and close the door, since the only milk he had was outdated. "Nah, I don't."
"Ooh, okay." The woman loved to smile, he quickly learned. "Sucks for us. All the stores are closed now and we desperately need some milk for our potatoes."
"Oh, uh, well, good luck with that," Phil replied, almost wishing she would not leave and make him close the door, never to see her again.
"Yeah." Smile. "Well, Happy Thanksgiving! I'm sure you're busy, about to head off to some family… so I'll leave."
No! "Nah, I'm just gonna watch some TV and go to bed," Phil admits, running his hands through his pony-tailed hair. It sounded wonderful to him, but would sound much better if she was next to him on his seat.
"That's terrible! You don't want to celebrate Thanksgiving?"
Maybe with you. "Nah, I don't have much to be thankful for." Phil shrugs, leaning against the doorway.
"Everyone has something to be thankful for," the woman points out, shaking her head with an almost disappointed smile. "C'mon, you must."
"I'm thankful for everything my job gives me, I guess," Phil states with a shrug.
"Oh, right. My uncle was telling me that you're away a lot. What do you do?" Was he really having a conversation with a woman he never met before like that? Hell, even better, a hot woman like that? Maybe he did have something to be thankful after all.
"I wrestle," he replied bluntly, knowing soon as he said that, she'd go high-tailing out of there. Too hot for her damn good… she couldn't like wrestling. "For the WWE."
"That's pretty damn cool," the woman replied without a smile, yet more of a taunting smirk.
What? He didn't expect that? A smile formed on his lips slowly, showcasing his please to the words. "You don't think I'm a steroid using fool?"
"Why would I judge you?"
The woman had a point. "True. So, what's your name?" Phil had realized they'd been talking for a good five minutes without knowing the other's identity. It could be helpful, yes.
"Cheyenne Waters. What's yours?"
"Phil Brooks. Also known as CM Punk. I've been know to answer to both."
"CM Punk, huh? What's the CM stand for, Mr. Punk?" Cheyenne teased with a cute smile that only made Phil want to ditch his straight-edge ways even more.
"Oh well, that's up to you to figure out," he teased right back, starting to get comfortable. Maybe Thanksgiving wasn't such a sucky holiday after all.
"Chey!?" a voice called out then, booming like. "Oh, there you are." Phil's neighbor comes out with a smile. "I send you for milk and you get into a conversation?"
"Sorry Uncle Frank, we got side tracked. I find it odd that Phil here doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving," she explained.
"I never said I didn't celebrate it," Phil pointed out. Chey raised one eyebrow. "Okay, I did. I just don't have a reason to."
'Uncle Frank' smiled at the side, sensing the start of something new. "Well, let's give him a reason to, shall we, Chey? Phil, would you like to come eat dinner with us? It's only about six or so people."
Phil smiled politely, shaking his head. "Nah, I couldn't."
Bubbly Cheyenne laughed at the side, socking him lightly in the shoulder. He liked her more and more each second. "Don't be a chicken. We have plenty of food and don't mind the company."
Frank nodded, "She's right."
"Oh, just say yes!" Cheyenne squealed.
Phil sighed, smiling at her excitement, and then nodded, "Alright, I will. Just let me get changed."
Only about twenty minutes later, Phil sat at the table with his neighbor's and their family, Cheyenne right next to him. They'd often catch each other glancing at the other and then looking away quickly.
"So, what are you thankful for?" Phil asked Chey, while clearing his throat. "You never told me."
"I'm thankful for a lot of things," Chey replied with a shrug.
"Nuh-uh, you're not gonna get away with something like that. I want a real answer," Phil teased.
Chey smiled the smile Phil was quickly falling for. "A real answer, huh?"
"You," she whispered. Phil smiled softly, starting to find the true meaning of Thanksgiving, just as the family began to go around the table, saying grace and what they were thankful for. Though he didn't know what it could mean for tomorrow, Phil was sure that the remainder of Thanksgiving would be one he'd never forget.