A/N: Merry Christmas, Kat! I've owed you this for what, like five months now? I really hope you love this. To everyone else reading, I hope you enjoy as well! Review, please!

Disclaimer: The OC belongs to Kat RoadKill, and I think it's obvious that I don't own CM Punk.

"You feeling lucky tonight, sir?" a soft voice spoke. CM Punk looked up from his dog-eared copy of Pro Wrestling Illustrated and smiled at the woman in front of him. She had piercing hazel eyes, long dark hair, and several piercings, including her lip and ears, which were gauged. The woman pointed to the slot machines, and Punk shook his head no.

"Actually, I don't believe in luck," he replied, still smiling at the woman. "When you're as good as me, you don't need it." Punk smirked and went back to his magazine.

The woman raised an eyebrow and shook her head as she studied the man in front of her. He was definitely…interesting, she decided. Covered in tattoos as far as she could see, and, like her, also had lip rings. Judging by her first impression, CM Punk seemed to be a bit of a smart-ass, and Kat liked that. The brunette sat down beside Punk and cast her gaze over the entire room. She'd worked at this casino for almost five years now, and it was a nice change of pace to actually be able to hold a conversation with a customer, instead of just giving out drinks or fighting off unwanted advances after said customer got dead drunk.

"All right then, so I assume you don't gamble….." Kat said, nodding her head in the direction of the bar. Punk followed her gaze, and since he already knew the question she was going to ask, having heard it countless times throughout his life, he beat her to the punch and answered the question before she could ask it.

"No thanks, I don't drink." The dark-haired man reached into a small duffel bag that he'd brought with him and pulled out a bottle of Pepsi. He twisted the lid off and took a long drink, holding it out to Kat once he was finished.

"Want a drink?"

Kat scrunched her nose up in disgust and shook her head.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks. I don't drink after strangers." That same look of disgust was on her face, but Punk could see a tiny smile underneath the scowl.

"I don't have mono, I promise." Punk raised his hand, a grin on his face.

"I'm sure you don't, but you can never be too safe," Kat said evenly.

"Ah, you're no fun," Punk pouted, but dropped the issue.


Three hours had passed, and CM Punk was still in the small room across from the bar, talking to his newfound friend, Kat. In the time that had passed, they'd actually discovered that they had a lot in common. Kat was from Las Vegas, and Punk had always wanted to live there. She also liked a lot of the same music as him, which he found interesting because most of his friends had fairly…limited taste when it came to music. Punk liked Nickelback as much as the next guy, but not to the insane level that his friends did. Talking to this girl was refreshing and he barely even realized how much time had passed until he glanced at the clock about a half hour ago.

"You don't drink, you don't smoke, and you don't do drugs?" Kat asked incredulously, as she folded her legs underneath her and hopped up on the counter of the bar. "That's pretty cool. I bet you're one of the only guys in your profession to lead such a clean lifestyle." She tossed her dark hair back. "Does it ever get frustrating? You know, being around this." She gestured to indicate her point.

"Most people would think so, but actually, it's not a problem for me," Punk answered, as he absent-mindedly pulled at his fingernails. "For the most part, the other guys are cool with it. And even if they aren't, it doesn't bother me. You can't go through life trying to please other people, because it'll never happen." He cracked his knuckles and chewed on his lip.

"Besides," he pointed out, "normal sounds boring. I'd much rather challenge people's definitions of normal than succumb to them."

Kat smiled.

"My kinda guy." Sighing, she hopped off the bar and yawned, stretching her tired muscles. She'd been at the casino since 7:30 that morning, and even though her shift was over, she couldn't leave until everything was put away and the girl she was training arrived. She considered skipping out, but she really needed the job and couldn't afford to get fired.

This meant, though, that she'd have to end her conversation with the charming Chicago native, and she really didn't want to. It was kind of surprising, actually meeting a guy in a casino that wasn't a drunk or a pervert for once. The conversation had been pleasantly intriguing, and Kat liked to think that she'd found a friend, even if she would probably never see him again. She sighed again.

"Work calling you?" Punk asked, as he pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. Scotty and Jeff were supposed to pick him up at 11:00, since they were all rooming together, and it was half past the hour now. Given the choice, he'd spend the night in the casino, but that probably wouldn't look too good in the morning, when he didn't make it to the press conference. So, against his will, he was going to have to leave.

"Unfortunately," Kat stated, rolling her eyes. She grabbed a towel from the bar and threw it over her shoulder. For a moment, she didn't really know what to say. Should I ask him for his number? No, that would be stupid…after all, he's just like a regular customer. Nothing special at all about him..even if you do have more in common with him than most of the people you hang around with. Finally, she cleared her throat and, smiling, said,

"Well, if you're ever in the area again, pop in and see me, if you want."

Punk nodded slowly, chewing again on his lip ring.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'd stick around, but I got this stupid press conference tomorrow and if I don't leave now, Scotty and Jeff will fall asleep and then I'll be stranded here…and trying to explain that to the boss wouldn't be fun." He ran a hand through his hair. Come on, Punk, ask her. What have you got to lose? She's a pretty cool chick, chances are maybe you two could hang out again soon.

Like he had done earlier, Kat beat him to the punch and answered Punk's unspoken question by reaching out and grabbing his hand. She pulled a black ball-point pen out of her pocket and, with a small smile, turned the man's hand over and jotted her phone number there.

"Here's my cell. I usually always have it on, but if not, just leave me a message." Her hazel eyes sparkled as she spoke. "And it's been fun, Punk, but really, I do have to go now." She brushed his hand with hers as she turned around to leave.

"See ya later, Punk," she called as she made her way into the other room.

The Straight-Edge Superstar bent down, picked up his duffel bag, and hoisted it over his shoulders. A long sigh escaped his lips as he made his way out of the casino.

The guys were sure to give him hell once they heard about his night.

Yeah…I really don't like it, but let me know how you felt :)