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Shawn Michaels grimaced as he hovered over the hood of the woman's car. Of course, he didn't have any substantial tools or equipment on him, but he could see the problem with the Dodge. He fiddled with the engine, looking up briefly to eye the two in the diner, still eating and nursing cups of coffee.
Michaels had come in as he always did every morning, hungry and wanting a stack of pancakes and a black coffee before heading off to work. The garage was only less than a mile away, and besides, he didn't have to be there until close to eleven. After all, it was *his* company, so he could make his own hours - and that was exactly what he did.
He jumped back about a foot as a spark suddenly jolted through his fingertips.
"Shit!" he spat. Well, that was definitely weird. Why that had happened, he hadn't a clue. And when he couldn't figure something out when cars were concerned, it bothered him.
Gingerly and tentatively, the man reached his hands back in, touching the same wire that gave off the spark. When it seemed perfectly fine, he continued working.
"Easy there, Shawn," he chastised himself with a chuckle. "You probably just need your daily cup of joe."
*
The smiling Melina came back over as she gracefully slid behind the counter again. Amy paused in mid-conversation, instantly taking note of the smooth, easy smile on the Latina's face.
"Can I get you something else?" the waitress asked. Her hands came up to touch the muscular arm of the blond man. And Amy didn't know why, but she felt a strange twinge at that.
"How about another cup of coffee?" Adam suggested, smiling. Although he was already satisfied, he didn't want to go so soon - especially when he learning so much about the gorgeous redhead by his side. He turned to her. "Amy?"
"No, thank you. I'm good." She put a hand up in an almost retreating gesture.
Melina whirled around, gliding to the coffee pot. As Amy eyed her, she came back, smile and all, and poured the brew into the blond man's cup. Only when she was gone did Amy speak again.
"She seems to really like you," she verbally noted.
"Her?" Adam asked. "She's always been friendly and flirty."
"I think she has a crush on you."
The man was silent for a moment. Then, "Maybe..." He helped himself to some more cream for his coffee just as Shawn Michaels returned. He instantly met the other man's eyes as he approached.
"Well... That about does it, young lady. You should be good to go now."
"Thanks again, Mr. Michaels."
"Uh uh... Shawn," the mechanic emphatically corrected.
"Shawn." Amy smiled. "How much do I owe you?" She reached into her purse.
"No," Adam cut in. "I'll take care of that."
"Don't be silly."
"Let him be silly!" Michaels quipped.
The redhead sighed with exasperation and relented, her hands releasing her wallet. She zippered her bag again and folded her arms as she watched the man, who seemed to be fumbling for his own wallet. Their eyes met.
"Thank you," she mouthed. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate him and his kindness - she definitely did. But she was superbly independent and had never liked anyone else to pay her way when it wasn't a date.
She ran her hand through her hair, head slightly downcast then as she wondered why the word 'date' had inadvertently popped into her mind.
"How's the car?" Adam questioned Shawn as he handed him a wad of bills. He didn't even know how much money he'd taken out.
Amy's eyes grew large as she eyed the sum of green in the tall, handsome blond man's hand. Who in hell would carry that kind of money around with him in public?! And as she stared, she began to wonder if Adam Copeland was involved in some sort of illegal activity. The thought made her queasy, and she was suddenly sorry she'd eaten anything at all.
Michaels accepted the bills and sifted through them. He replied to the other man's question and felt the odd sensation of something being right at the edges of his memory, yet he was unable to grasp it.
"Car's going to run just fine now," he said. "It was a very simple problem to fix."
"Great."
The woman was feeling more uneasy by the moment as she watched Shawn hand Adam back some hundreds. What the heck was going on here? She glanced around the restaurant, taking note of other diners and the staff. Nobody seemed to be looking at them as Melina served an elderly couple at a booth near the door. Three teenagers were sitting nearby at another table, playing a hard rock song on their booth's jukebox. And Amy felt as though the walls were closing in and she simply had to get out of there.
"Well, thank you again - both," she said as she slid down and off her stool. She met eyes with Adam briefly but turned abruptly and headed for the door. She supposed she was behaving like an ungrateful bitch in spite of her words, but she felt so uncomfortable.
"Wait..." The tall blond man stood up and reached out toward the retreating woman with his free hand, but he was suddenly held back as a vision struck him. He crashed up against the counter and dropped his wallet, his hand flying up to his brow. It was a painful one and knocked the wind out of him. And what seemed like forever actually lasted a mere minute or so.
"Holy shit, man... Are you okay?" Shawn asked as he shook the younger man's shoulder and peered into his face with concern.
Adam's green eyes were wide as he stared up at the mechanic. He nodded, his hand pressing to his forehead.
"Yeah, I'm okay," he muttered. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. His temples were throbbing painfully, but he managed to sit up again. That was when he realized there was a small crowd around him. He hated the feeling that produced. "Oh, God... God, I have to go!"
"Easy... You just had a seizure or something," Michaels said as he placed a gently restraining hand on the blond man's chest.
"No, I didn't. And you don't understand... I have to go!" In a flash, Adam rose and bolted for the door, people
moving out of his way in an instant.