Title: Where the Heart Is

Author: Juliette

Rating: Teen with Mature Themes

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you see in this fiction. They are the property of WWE and to themselves. So please do not sue me. Because all you will get from me is student loans and a very fat black and white cat named Max, and three new kittens. And a very lazy Boyfriend.

Summary: (Take Off the Movie Sweet Home Alabama)-Trish Stratus is finally doing what she loves, her career as wedding dress designer is finally propelling her to nation-wide success, she is dating almost engaged to a very well known surgeon in LA, the only thing that is missing her husband.

Prologue

"Careful! Don't fall now!"

Ten year old Trish Stratus dismissed his warning with a roll of her large hazel eyes and continued her trapeze walk on the wooden bridges thick railing. Her small arms out to keep her balance.

"Your brother is going to kick my ass if something happens to you."

Trish expertly and gracefully spun on her toe to face him, not even teetering in the slightest. Her light brown braided pigtails whipped around her shoulders. Hands on her hips, she scowled at him. "Is that the only reason you're hanging out with me? Because Hunter is off making out with Stephanie?"

The brunette looked up at her from his spot on the bridge. "No, I'm hanging out with you 'cause I want to."

She smirked at him. "Aww, better be careful, or I'll start thinkin' you like me or some- whoa!"

In her taunt, she lost her balance and almost fell backwards off the bridge railing. Fortunately, the eleven year boy was able to catch her hand in time and pull her towards him and solid ground. She barely landed on her feet, she had always been small for her age. But with his arms around her waist to support her, she was safe. His face was only a few inches from hers, and from that proximity she could practically see through his light blue eyes.

"What if I do like you?" he asked with a grin, half teasing and half serious.

"Ha!" she retorted, pushing him away and standing on her own two feet. She didn't really understand the funny feeling she had gotten in her stomach when he had held her. "You're so funny sometimes."

His face showed indignation and hurt. "I'm serious! What if I said I liked you and I think we should get married?"

She gaped. "Are you crazy! We can't get married!"

He crossed his arms. "Why not?" Staring at her defiantly.

"I'm too young to get married, Only old people get married" she replied with all her 10-year-old wisdom. "Besides I've got too much living to do first."

She turned around and skipped down the bridge and back towards the large white house.

"How about after you've done your living?" he yelled, running after her. His sneakers squeaking loudly.

"Sure," she replied easily, without turning her head. "But you've got to do your living too you know."

His short and quick strides caught up to her and he stood in front her, blocking her path. He spit in his hand and then stuck it out to her. "Okay, then we gotta deal?"

She scrunched her face in disgust, but then also spit in her hand and clasped his.

"Deal."


Trish Stratus raised her bleary eyes to the bedside table, squinting in the slice of daylight filtering through her blinds. As large red numbers came into focus, she let out a yelp of surprise.

"Eight-forty-five!" she shrieked. No, it couldn't be! Eight-forty-five," she moaned, swinging her feet to the chilly wood floor, wincing and cursing New York's cold winter silently as she quickly dashed through her studio apartment.

She had only lain down to rest her eyes for fifteen minutes and she slept for at least two fill hours. Dave was going to be at her door any minute, probably dress in his best suit and she was still in her red work suit.

Sliding slightly across the dark wooden floor in her pantyhose with ease she quickly made it to her small closet shedding her jacket quickly.

She snagged the first dress she saw struggling to get into it; she hopped comically as she tried to fit it over her hips. "Why do I always get these damn things so tight." She grumbled as she finally got it up to her chest and zipped it up as best she could.

Rushing over to her shoe rack she snagged her favorite Jimmy Choo's they would kill her heels but at least they made her legs look long. She snapped them together before quickly making her way to the mirror checking the clock once again. "8:55" I can do this as long as he is not early I can just pull my hair into one of those bun things Torrie is always going on about.

But as if god himself had heard her the doorbell buzzed.

Jerking suddenly she smashed her head on the doorway she had been next too.

"Oww." That was just another bruise waiting to happen. At least she hadn't hit her funny bone again. She had hoped to grow out of her klutziness' when she grew older but it only seemed to intensify.

She quickly made her way to the large steel door unlocking the six locks her father had insisted she buy when she had first moved to the big city, and pulled open the door.

"I am almost ready I just got to do something with all this hair." She said as she rushed back into the room, with only glance at the tall dark haired man that stood waiting outside her door with a bouquet of red roses.

He chuckled quietly, but made his way into her small studio closing the door behind him. "This is why I always reserve our reservations for at least fifteen minutes after the time I tell you."

'I'm am not always late." Trish said annoyed as she stuck her head out of her bathroom door, half her up. When he only looked at her blandly she shrugged. "Fine I am always late."

Dave Batista smiled, "Yes but your always worth the wait my dear."

"Huh, nice line. You use it on all your girlfriends?" She joked as she walked out of the bathroom completely satisfied with her appearance.

"No, only the ones that matter." He said as he kissed her cheek. "You look absolutely gorgeous Trish."

"I do, don't I?" Trish grinned, before grabbing her wrap. "We should be going, we wouldn't want to be late now would we?" She giggled as he swatted her behind.

Exiting the small yet stylish restaurant Trish shivered. "That was fabulous Dave." They turned slightly as they walked over to where the valet was supposed to be bringing his car.

He nodded quietly as he wrapped his large wool coat around her small frame, rubbing her arms slightly so that some of the warmth would seep into her bones.

"If your still up to it and not to tired, I would like to stop at my jeweler to pick up my mothers birthday present."

"That's fine, I like spending time with you." Trish smiled easily.

He looked down at her silently and smiled. They stood their quietly just enjoying one another's presence for moment. But the spell was broken suddenly as a loud honk announced that his car was ready.

"So what did you get your mother?" She asked once they were in the safety of his car.

"Oh just a little broach, she picked it out herself actually but she didn't like the color of the diamonds. So I had it remade."

Trish couldn't even fathom the idea of remaking a piece of jewelry just because of the color of the diamonds. She had grown up in an area where cubic zirconia was the only type of diamond people had.

As he stopped the car Trish eyed the jewelry store inquisitively, Les Ménage, she thought silently but they didn't sell ordinary jewelry; they specialized in diamond engagement rings. "But Dave this is Les Ménage. This is for engagement rings not…" stopping suddenly she looked over at him silently. "You got your mother's broach here?"

He said nothing though as he walked around the car opening her door and ushering her out. The two stepped inside a bare and empty store. With the exception of the actual sales people who worked there, the store was barren.

"Dave?" asked, confusion clear in her tone.

"Trish..," started, gazing down at her. He grabbed her hands and lightly squeezed them. "I...I lied to you. We aren't exactly here for a present for my mother." He looked down to the floor before dropping to one knee.

"Oh my God," Trish said, her mouth gaping wide open.

"Patricia Anne Stratus...will you marry me?" He asked, peering shyly at her with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Oh My God!" She muttered again before opening her eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life," Dave admitted with a smile. "Please say yes."

She felt her eyes well with tears. "Yes, of course, it's yes!" She looked around wildly. "Which one is mine?"

Dave smiled as he leapt up from his position kissing her soundly before gesturing her over to a cabinet where some of the biggest rings were placed. "Pick any ring you want," he encouraged.

She scanned through the cases of rings for several moments before one of them especially caught her eye. The ring was gold with a large one-carat diamond in the middle and a circle of smaller diamonds surrounding it. "This one," she declared, with a large smile on her face.

" Excellent choice," the salesperson in front of her said calmly. "Would you like to try it on first? It may fit on your ring finger without having to make any adjustments."

"That's fine," Trish said as she held out her hand smiling up at Dave.

The salesperson took her hand and looked at her ring finger. "Ms. Stratus? Would you like me to remove the ring that's currently on your ring finger or would you like to remove it yourself?" The man asked with a smile.

Like a reality check Trish was brought back as she looked down at the simple silver band that had seemed to be on her finger forever. It sat against her skin perfectly with its simple blue stone that matched the eyes of the man that had given it to her all those years ago.

Dave Batista had asked her to marry him; the only problem was that she was still married to her first love.