Disclaimer: I own nothing WWE-related, or the George Strait song in Chapter One, only the original characters of Jason, Tim, Anna, and all aspects of their lives. So don't sue; you'd be wasting your money because I have none.

Of Love & Lawnmowers

Summary: Being in Atlantic City makes people do crazy things. Like, for example, when a WWE Diva wakes up married to one of her fans...

Pairings: Trish Stratus / OC

Chapter One: A Dream Come True! For One of Them, Anyways...

Jason Haybert awoke slowly, glancing at his watch and swearing softly when he realized it was 8:30 AM and his business was scheduled to open in thirty minutes. Another worry arose when his hungover brain registered that he wasn't in his bedroom at home, but instead in a expensive motel suite. Then he remembered he was on vacation, so he relaxed again.

He brought his left hand up and raked it down the left side of his face, pausing when he felt something metallic against his skin. He pulled his hand away to see a simple gold band on his left ring finger.

Ohh shit...

Movement next to his right made him glance nervously in that direction, and his trepidation wasn't eased at all when he saw long dirty-blonde hair spread out over the pillows.

Odd; usually I go for brunettes...

He mentally smacked himself as the mysterious blonde sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her stomach, turning her face towards him.

Jason nearly had heart failure...the woman in bed with him was none other than 7-time Women's Champion Trish Stratus. Babe of the Year Trish Stratus. Hotter-than-any-Playboy-Penthouse-or-Hustler-centerfold-in-history Trish Stratus.

A quick glance at Trish's left hand revealed a ring that matched Jason's, and the sight of the marriage license on the nightstand to his left caused the events of the previous night to come flooding back to him. A dazed smile came over his face.

Ok, I can die happy now.

Quietly - so as not to disturb his gorgeous new wife - he slipped out of bed, gathered his clothes, and headed for the shower. As he started his usual morning routine, he couldn't help but sing as he washed.

o0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0oo0o0o

Trish slowly came awake. A hangover the size of the Grand Canyon followed her into consciousness.

Ugh...I'm never drinking again...

Then she remembered the reason she'd had that much to drink the previous night. Her divorce from Ron had become final...her ex-husband was now free to marry the other woman he'd fallen so hard and left her in the dust for. So she'd met up with her friends in the WWE and gone out to a club with them. But everything after the fifth shot of tequila was a blur.

Trish groaned and collapsed back into the pillows, but a glint of gold on her hand caught her eye. She blearily raised her head and finally saw the gold ring on her left ring finger.

What is that doing there?

She sat up - finally registering she wasn't wearing her usual pajamas - and saw the piece of paper on the nightstand. Picking it up, her eyes widened in horror when she saw it confirmed that Patricia Anne Stratigias was now married to Jason Mosby Haybert.

Oh, my God....

At that, the rest of last night's events came back to her...along with the realization that certain parts of her body were fairly sore. The former Women's Champion blushed embarrassedly as she remembered those events in particular.

Then the sound of the shower running cut through her thoughts, along with a voice singing. Pretty good singing, too, Trish thought.

"If you're ridin' on a gravy train, instead of walkin' down Lover's Lane. You can't make head, boy...'cause you're goin' the wrong way, boy. You gotta get a little honey...it's better than money. If you ain't lovin'...then you ain't livin'."

Trish listened and thought as the impromptu concert continued for three more verses before the shower shut off. About five minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and she saw her new husband for the first time.

Jason was thin, yet muscular, with long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail. The bathroom light glinted off - Trish was surprised to note - quite a few strands of white hair, even though her new husband couldn't have been more than thirty-five years old.

Jason walked out of the bathroom and stopped dead when he saw Trish was awake, leaning back against the headboard with the blankets covering a body that Jason now knew was about ten trillion times hotter than any fantasy his best friend Tim Bradfield had ever concocted inside that humorously warped mind of his.

"Oh, good...you're awake," he smiled at her. "I was hoping you would be when I came out...I dunno how I would've woken you up; I didn't want to have my lights knocked out if I tried to kiss you good morning, or have my wrist broken if I shook your shoulder."

Despite the awkward situation, Trish couldn't help but giggle.

"So..." she trailed off awkwardly, "we're married."

Jason nodded. "According to the Sunny Skies Wedding Chapel here in Atlantic City we are."

Trish grabbed her cell phone off the second nightstand. "I'm gonna call my lawyer and have him draw up divorce papers, ok?"

"Who said anything about a divorce?" Jason asked, confused.

Trish looked up at him with an attractive - incredibly attractive, in Jason's opinion - flush spreading across her face, neck, and collarbones.

"Well, we obviously can't get an annullment," she muttered softly, causing her new husband to grin.

She was in the midst of scrolling through her phone book to find her lawyer's number when Jason said something that caused her to stop in mid-scroll.

"Who said I wanted a divorce?"