Trouble sleeping.

This is my first ever fic so please don't be too hard, but I welcome all constructive criticism gratefully. Hope you enjoy, and I own nothin in this story except for Dixie.

Dixie pulled the covers up around her shoulders. Despite it not being overly chilly outside, she shivered. She always felt the cold. It stopped her from sleeping sometimes. When she didn't sleep her mind wandered. It made her wish she was at home in her snug bed instead of on the road. Well, almost wish she was at home. At least here in this generic, unfriendly hotel room she had Randy. He made a lot of things in her life a lot easier these days.

Randy was almost asleep. He must of felt Dixie shiver, because under the duvet he slid his hand along her body until he had her round the waist. Gently, but firmly, he pulled her in closer to him without saying a word. She could feel his warmth. He little cotton tank top meant she could feel his bare chest against her back. The cold never seemed to affect Randy. That or he had a serious aversion to clothes. Dixie reckoned the most she'd ever seen him wear at once was the shirt and trousers he was required to wear to TV. Dixie didn't complain though, she was quite happy with the view. She loved Randy's body. She loved his tattoos, his muscles, but most of all she loved the way he way he made her feel when he wrapped his strong arms around her, like now.

Even now though, sleep still wasn't coming easy. Randy being so close actually made it harder. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, the rise and fall of his chest in a slow rhythm. Such a strong presence made Dixie wonder why he was here at all. She often ruined happy moments for herself by waiting for the end of it all. Something this good couldn't last forever, not for her. There were plenty of girls who would take Randy Orton off her hands given half the chance. And yet, months later, he was still here. She still thought he would leave her for someone younger, prettier. Someone who could give him the things she couldn't. The age gap wasn't actually too big, three or four years only. Dixie fixated on it because she was in her thirties and Randy only in his twenties. He had told her he didn't care. Dixie even convinced herself sometimes that she believed him. But he might want a family, marriage, things like that. Dixie wasn't sure she could provide that happily even if she wanted to. She did want him though, and she was a little scared at where it was going.

People had said it wouldn't work between the two of them though. Friends, co-workers, enemies, nobody seemed to have much faith. As news filtered through the locker room that the two were together, Dixie put on her best 'Fuck You' face. She was very good at fronting. She was very good at giving people the impression that she didn't care even a little about what they thought. A hard life and struggle to the top meant people only really knew the tough, hard Dixie. Sweet and vulnerable were not two words ever used in the same sentence as her name. The same could be said of Randy though, but she knew otherwise.

Dixie knew of his reputation before they hooked up. He was a womaniser and a playboy. Half the female locker room lusted after him while the other half rued the day he ever walked into the WWE. Dixie was a rare exception. She called him on his bullshit, and in return he called her on hers. The amount of other women didn't bother Dixie , but more who they were. Even the ones who weren't divas could have been. Gorgeous creatures with stick thin bodies and boob jobs, perfect features and shiny locks straight from a L'Oreal ad. They were pretty girl next door types who didn't talk much and giggled even if what Randy said wasn't funny. That was not Dixie at all. By her own admission she was not pretty or cute. Randy said she was but once a woman decides something like that no man will ever change her mind permanently. She had an athletic, toned body, and she had the mandatory boob job, but at least she could see her feet. She didn't fall victim to the fake bake glow that seemed to infect the women (and men) of WWE. Her jet black hair contrasted with her pale porcelain skin. To make up for her looks she concentrated on being sexy. She wore a lot of leather and lace, black eyeliner framed her piercing green eyes and her blow job lips were more often than not painted a shocking shade of blood red. Her tattoos set her apart from the other divas too. Flowers, filigree and other designs laced down her back and snaked onto her stomach. She had the beginnings of a sleeve and her feet were decorated with tiny stars. She wasn't a typical diva, but she was very popular. Internet blogs had dubbed her the 'punk rock princess' of RAW. She didn't seem to be Randy's 'type' though and often worried he'd realise this one day too.

Dixie worried more about who Randy was with rather than how many. And now she definitely wouldn't be able to sleep thinking about it. She was no saint herself though, she mused. Her fling with Jeff a few years ago caused murmurs. A few eyebrows were raised too when she spent a few nights in Montel's hotel room during the European tour. That's just what people knew about. There were countless rumours surrounding her, which she chose to neither confirm nor deny. The Bret Hart one was the most prominent. It was a possible scandal if true. He had a young family at home during the alleged time, and Dixie was barely out of her teens. Other names were thrown around; Edge, Chris Jericho, even TNA got a look in with a supposed fling with Jeff Jarrett. Dixie had started her career in the old ECW and the independent circuit. She learned to be one of the boys. She fought like a man, double dealt, politicked and basically toughened up. She valued her independence and prided herself on never needing a man, just having them as she wanted. She never let them in and they never lasted long. She worked like a man so she was going to have fun like on too. She wondered how Randy had managed to slip through her net and get this close.

Randy obviously had feelings regarding the past that resembled hers though. He was starting to admit he got jealous. Increasingly more so in the past few weeks as they spent more and more time together. He resented the sporadic phone calls between Dixie and Bret, the friendship she still had with Jeff. Like the rest of the locker room he could only guess at how much of the rumour was true. He never dared ask her, half afraid of what answer he might get. She never questioned him either. When they did piss each other off or find out something from somebody else the arguments were explosive, but at least then it felt like a real relationship and not a fling.

People only saw what they wanted to when it came to them, Dixie decided. They didn't see the good stuff. They didn't know the real them. Randy told her once that he could be himself around her. The cockiness and arrogance all but disappeared. What people didn't realise was that Randy could be very funny and very smart when it suited him. Like Dixie though, nobody really ever got to see it. They could trust each other and they had nothing to lose with each other. They were alike in a lot of ways. Both had been reprimanded backstage numerous times for angry outbursts, arguments and tempers. They shared a dry sense of humour and a lot of mutual interests. They were aggressive in what they wanted. They cheated on people who waited for them patiently at home. Dixie wondered how it had taken them so long to find each other. Their friends silently wondered how long before one cheats on the other or gets bored.

Dixie was suddenly very aware of Randy in bed beside her. He was fidgeting in his sleep again. A bad dream maybe? Unaware of what he was doing he pulled Dixie tighter to him. He didn't stir anymore, just seemed content that he had a better hold on her. Maybe he needed her as much as she now needed him? It was a nice thought, but scary. Dixie had never needed anyone in her life. Seriously, how did he slip through her net?

Her mind flitted back to the night they got together. The flirting and gentle teasing had grown to such proportions that Dixie had to admit she had quite a crush on him. Comments and actions had got more daring, more explicit. Dixie still kept him at arm's length. He was very sexy. Very handsome, and she loved his company. Sleeping with him would be wrong though. She didn't want to become just a conquest, not when she had the privilege of being his friend. There was too much tequila that night though. After yet another breathy comment about them getting together Dixie had challenged him to make good of his word. She had just wanted to maybe embarrass him a little in front of their friends by making him back down and shatter his bravado. Dixie was the most surprised when he grabbed her in the bar and kissed her. It wasn't just some friend kiss, or fake passion to get a laugh. Dixie felt he knees get week as he snaked his hand around her waist pulling her closer. She surprised herself then by kissing back just as vigorously. Her fingers found their way under the hem of his t shirt. She could feel his skin, warm to touch, and the muscles she suddenly found incredibly sexy.

That's as far as their friends thought it went that night, just a drunken kiss in a bar. Randy had a long suffering high school sweetheart at home. Dixie was seeing a guitarist who lived in the apartment above hers in New York. In hindsight, both should have broken up with the sweetheart and the guitarist before starting to see each other properly. They got around to it eventually. A one night stand on the road was one thing, but a relationship was something completely different. There was something fun about the sneakiness of an affair though. Dixie kind of missed the excitement. Her friends kept reminding her that if they could cheat on others if they could cheat on you. At least she didn't get any lectures when it was just Randy and her.

Once again people only saw the negative. They weren't happy purely because she was happy. They had to point out the flaws. Dixie shook her head and snuggled into Randy more. People don't realise, she thought to herself. They don't realise how happy she is now. They don't see how sweet Randy is, or how loving. How they've stopped going out after shows as much, preferring to stay in with each other. They don't appreciate that he keeps cola in his fridge just because its Dixie's favourite, not his. How he tivo's her shows so that when she stays in his she doesn't miss out. He has her laughing everyday with jokes and stories, and when she gets upset he somehow makes her laugh even harder. How despite her insecurities, when they go out he can go into a crowded room or bar and only looks at her, like he wants her there and then. And then there's the sex. When they went back to the hotel after kissing that night it was obvious Randy had thought about it happening a lot. It wasn't all talk, he did want her. And it had only got better as they got to know each other more. One days off when one had ventured to the others home, whole days were spent in bed.

Dixie still couldn't sleep, but she did feel better now. Her thoughts were still a bit jumbled, and she knew she would never stop worrying totally. She gave the duvet another tug up around her shoulders. Being so close, this one woke Randy a bit.

'Dixie, you not asleep yet?' He asked only half awake.

'No, sorry for waking you. My brains racing.'

'It's okay' he mumbled, 'You don't need to think though, you're too pretty.'

'Is that your excuse?'

Randy gave a little laugh before pulling himself up to face Dixie. He knew all the crap she was thinking about, he'd be lying if he said he never thought about it too. He realised what might make her feel better, what might reassure her. He'd never told her before, and he'd never said it before at all and meant it. Dixie was different though.

Dixie was still wrapped up in his arms when he began lacing small kisses from her neck up to her forehead. He whispered in her ear that he loved her before settling back down to sleep. He heard her whisper it back, and felt her shifting to get comfortable. She slept a lot easier that night. Easier than she had done in months.