Running Up That Hill (Shakira & Adam Levine / Shadam)

Diving into the Unknown

Shakira + Adam Levine = Shadam

*I changed the title from "All Aboard the S.S. Shadam!" to "Running Up That Hill," which is a title of a song.

Disclaimer: This story is a fanfiction inspired by Season 4 of The Voice. I do not own any of these characters (though I would like to) and I do not make any money writing this.

"Adam Levine."

Said man was staring at the judge on his left, but when Carson Daly, host of The Voice, had called his name, Adam was snapped out of his trance. He glanced away from Shakira, but his eyes made its way back to her in a second - almost impulsively.

"What? You want one too?" Shakira challenged as Adam tried to make words filled by laughs and head shakes.

"You just look so ador-adorable in that cap," he admitted and he looked away from her as she laughed loudly in amusement, hoping maybe she couldn't hear the words unsaid or see that he had swallowed a mouthful to keep from saying more. " . . . cow . . . boy hat." He meant. Adam knew he sounded ridiculous and that he needed to recover.

"Uh . . . " Recovery certainly did not favor Adam in his time of need. Having looked at the Colombian, Adam had lost the comments he had kept track to tell Danielle Bradberry after her performance. He let loose a whistle to free the burning heat rising from his stomach to his face. Only one person could have made him feel this way and the culprit was sitting with innocence scribbled across her face.

"I have always been . . ." He began and he finished, thankful he did not make any more mistakes, but as the show went on, Adam couldn't help thinking to himself, Cap? Really?!

Adam Levine walked across the studio, backstage of The Voice, furious with himself. It is the day before the Live Finale, the day before the show ends, and the day before the routine of seeing Shakira almost everyday ends. There he goes again! Thinking about her! Adam shook his head; he must be sick. Yep, that's an acceptable answer. His eyes flashed from left to right and back again, angry, and everyone on set knew from the look he was giving them that they should leave him alone and from the long, fast strides of his walk that he had some place to be - or in this case, some place to get away.

"Hey! Adam!" A voice with an unmistakable accent huffed out. He heard heels clacking loudly and turned to see the woman that occupied his thoughts day and night running - fast-walking - towards him.

"Uh, hello," and Adam cursed himself silently for not saying something more charmingly funny. As Shakira got nearer, her hands shot out to grab Adam by the arm. She began dragging him in the direction opposite of wherever he had intended on going.

"C'mon! We got to meet up with the other two!" Shakira's grip was surprisingly strong on his arm. Adam wondered absently if she could also feel the bit of tingle running up and down the arm she was holding. Yeah, he was so sick.

"Uh, I have some place to be, maybe tomorrow." He mentally noted to himself to stop his tongue from saying "uh" the next time he opened his mouth.

The Colombian's grip, however, did not loosen one bit. "We only have two days - actually more like one and a half days - together!"

Together. Together. Adam's mouth quirked up. She should say that word more often. And he let the Latina drag him along.

Little did he understand that he was not suffering from a rare Colombian sickness, or that even if she was not pulling him forcefully in the direction she wanted him to be, he would always follow. Even if he strapped and anchored himself in place, the S.S. Shakira was too beautiful a ship to not get hooked on. What was he getting himself into?

*I'm not satisfied with the first chapter. I'll be editing it as soon as I finish the rest of this disaster.