Backstory:

The plan was simple; get drafted to Smackdown! and never have to deal with Triple H again. Randy Orton and Dave Batista thought it would be easy enough -they even faked a hatred of each other, publicly argued with their girlfriends, and feuded with other wrestlers to throw off the Game- but things are never that easy in the WWE.

Randy Orton walked down the halls backstage of the MCI Center in Washington, D.C. He was sore all over; his back hurt, his head hurt, his arms hurt, but he was still the victor. He waved good-bye to his father as Cowboy Bob Orton turned a corner and walked away. Randy glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw a man with a large black hat and trenchcoat. The young Orton turned and ran after him.

"Taker, wait up," he called out. The Undertaker stopped walking and turned to face the young man he had lost to just moments before. "Taker," Randy said again. "I really want to thank you for everything that you've done for me. I don't know where I'd be right now-"

"Kid," Taker said, a slight smile on the face of the dead-man. "Don't worry about it. I know how dangerous it is to deal with someone like Triple H on a weekly basis. I'm glad I could help."

"But still," Randy said. "I feel bad. I've embarassed you in front of thousands of people and even cost you a title sh-"

"Orton," Undertaker said, his voice held an admonishing tone. "Don't worry about it." With that said, the Undertaker stalked down the hall, eventually turning a corner and disappearing from Randy's line of sight.

"What was that all about?" A voice asked. Randy turned and smiled at Stacy Keibler.

"Were you spying on me?" Randy accused playfully. "What for? Afraid I might not be too gracious to the Dead-man?"

"I'm was just there to make sure you didn't say anything stupid and get yourself in trouble with him," Stacy joked. Randy just shook his head and laughed. "Hurry up and get changed," Stacy said. "We're meeting Dave and Christy."

"Doesn't Dave have a match with JBL?" Randy asked.

Stacy sighed. "Shows how much you've been paying attention, he took that looser down a few minutes ago." Randy just laughed again and snaked his arm around Stacy's waist.

"Let's go then," Randy said with a smile. Things were finally beginning to look up…

Dave Batista shook the water from his hair as he stepped out of the shower. His match with JBL had been a brutal one, and Bradshaw might be a great brawler, but Batista had faced opponents twice as dangerous. Namely; Triple H.

Batista finished drying himself and began to change into his suit when the door to his locker room opened. Dave's eyes took on a lustful glaze as Christy Hemme sauntered into his locker room and drapped her arms around his neck.

"So, Champ," she drawled. "Now that you've taken down JBL for the second time in a row, what do you plan on doing?"

Batista growled playfully. "I can think of a few things," he said with a smirk.

"Those things better include getting a bite to eat with Randy and Stacy," Christy said. "Otherwise you're shit outta luck."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Dave asked, faking astonishment.

Christy gave the World Champion a saucy look. "You never complained about my dirty mouth before."

"She's got you there," Randy Orton's voice called out from the door to the locker room. The "Legend Killer" was leaning against the doorframe with that cocky-as-hell smile on his face.

Dave finished putting on his suit and walked up to Randy Orton. He almost had to laugh. If there was one thing he and Randy both learned from their time spent in Evolution with Flair, it was how to dress to impress.

"Nice match with Taker back there," Dave commented seriously. "How's he taking this whole thing?"

Randy just shrugged his shoulders. "You can never tell with Taker," he said. "He didn't seem bothered by it at all. I think he knows what it's like to deal with Hunter. He seemed glad to help out." A smirk appeared on Orton's face. "By the way, what the hell took so long for you to take out Bradshaw?"

"Funny, you ass," Dave said and pushed Randy out the door. He finished changing and then he and Christy walked out of the locker room.

"Had a quickie?" Orton asked only to receive a slap to the back of the head by his girlfriend, Stacy.

Dave laughed loudly as the four of them exited the arena and headed to the nearest restauraunt. Dave smiled to himself. Things were beginning to look up…

John "Bradshaw" Layfield sat hunched over on a bench in his locker room. He had his back and ribs taped up from the devastating Batista Bomb on the steel steps. "The Animal" Batista had crushed him. JBL was beginning to realize that he would never be able to overcome the near-unstoppable power that Batista posessed. But he wouldn't make the same mistakes that Triple H made. Maybe the World Heavyweight Championship was out of his reach, but revenge wasn't.

JBL took out his cell phone and dialed a number. The phone rang a few times before someone answered.

"It's me," JBL said into the speaker. "I trust you saw what happened? Good. Then can I expect you to be there Thursday night? Good." JBL hung up the phone with a smirk. Things were beginning to look up…

(A/N): This is my first wrestling fic so I appoligize if I didn't get personalities completely on the money. But I felt that as I wrote I became more in-tune with the personalities or each of the characters. Hopefully this continues for the rest of the story. Please R&R. Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames aren't, but I guess if you're dead set on flaming this there's nothing I can do…