Disclaimer:

Forget everything you know (championship runs, tag teams, etc.). I'm rewriting history and I make no apologies. Also, I own nothing but my original characters. All others belong to Vince McMahon, or themselves. Thank you and enjoy!

A/N: Although it's already been posted, I've made a few minor changes to the content of this chapter. I suggest you re-read, but the decision is up to you.

Happy reading!

No man is an island
No man is a fool
When he finds himself a woman
And she helps him carry through

- Jack's Mannequin

Randy Orton was no stranger to losing matches. He'd had his shoulders pinned to the mat many times before his meteoric rise to the top of the WWE. Losing he could handle.

What made his blood boil as he tossed another chair against the wall, sending the wooden legs flying off in various directions, was the phone call from his wife informing him that she was moving the rest of her belongings out of their Tampa home.

With no more furniture left to feel his wrath, his fist connected with the mirror, the glass shattering to the floor. A few drops of blood dripped from his knuckles as he fell to his knees, the exhaustion of his handiwork engulfing his body like a straight jacket.

The door to the locker room flew open to reveal John Cena, breathing heavily.

"Randy, what the hell –" the remaining words died on his lips as he glanced around the room, eyeing Randy's destruction.

"Sam moved out."

With those three words John understood what had sent his best friend into a blind rage. He picked up a piece of what had once been Randy's cell phone.

"How do you know?"

"She called right after my match. Wanted me to know she'd mail the keys back when she gets settled in her new place."

"Classy move, Samantha. Kick the man while he's already down," John thought to himself.

While he had never been one of Samantha Orton's biggest fans, he knew how much Randy loved her. Randy had always done whatever he could to keep his wife happy, but nothing every seemed good enough for her.

"Go get your hand cleaned up, I'll get someone to take care of this mess and we'll go get a drink."

"You buying?" Randy asked as he appraised the damage to his hand. His knuckles had already begun to turn a nasty shade of purple.

"Yep."

"Then you're on," Randy replied as he got to his feet.

Meanwhile, up the hall Sara Hunter wrapped up a phone call.

"Love you too. Tell Chelle I miss her. Bye."

Although she enjoyed traveling around the country, the weekly call to catch up with her dad always made her feel a little homesick. A loud sigh escaped her lightly glossed lips as she shoved her ever-growing pile of paperwork into the black snakeskin briefcase sitting atop her desk.

Her temporary office was the size of small walk-in closet (and that was giving it far more credit than it deserved). She hadn't noticed how cramped the space was when she'd arrived earlier that morning, but twelve hours later it felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She had to talk to Vince about getting larger rooms in the future. It was no easy fete squeezing her own 5'10" frame along with a 6' tall superstar into such tight quarters. Getting most of them to open up to her was hard enough without her practically sitting in their laps.

She pulled her blonde hair into a high ponytail using the elastic band around her wrist. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she reached over to turn off the light. As she closed the door she spotted John Cena talking to someone as he pointed down the hallway.

He looked her way, his trademark smile (the one that sent millions of women into a frenzy each week) slowly spread across his handsome face. Finishing his conversation he strode over, planting a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"Fancy running into you here."

"My office," she said motioning to the door behind her, "For today, anyway."

"Busy day?" John asked, bringing his fingers up to lightly massage the nape of her neck.

"Yes. And so glad it's over."

Eight hours worth of appointments had left her little time for anything else, including lunch. The salad she'd picked up that morning at the deli around the corner was still sitting untouched in the bottom of her briefcase. She hoped John couldn't hear her stomach growling.

"Are you, me and Nattie still on for dinner?"

"Actually there's been a change in plans. But I'm sure you and Nat can survive without me."

"Everything okay?" she asked as he moved his hand from her neck to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The headache John thought he'd conquered earlier that day was back with vengeance, if the pounding in his ears was any indication. No thanks, he thought, to his match that night.

"Yeah. Just taking Randy out for a drink." After, of course, he tracked down the company physician and got his hands on some pain medicine.

"We'll miss you," she told him sadly as she snaked her arms around his waist.

John returned the hug, pressing his lips gently to her temple. Reluctantly, Sara stepped out of his embrace and watched him walk away. After a few steps he stopped and turned around, smiling.

"Don't go starting any lingerie pillow fights until I get back," he said with a wink.

"That's a nice fantasy world you're living in, Johnny."

"A man can dream," he replied continuing down the hall, Sara's laugh following him the whole way. It was so good to hear that sound again.