Because You Cared

By Kyizi

Disclaimer: The WWE and all related items do not belong to me; only the story is mine. No copyright infringement intended.

Rating: 12A/PG-13

Distribution: Please ask.

Pairing: Lita/Cena

Spoilers: All Lita storyline is fair game.

Feedback: Please, it makes me smile :)

Notes: This is another response to Karen U's Rainy Day Challenge (the first being a Lita/Randy fic called 'Just the Rain'). The challenge is:

-On a rainy day on the road, a certain wrestler finds Lita either playing in the rain/caught in the rain and ends up seeing a different side to her... A side that he likes.

-Guy should preferably be chosen from the following: John Cena, Randy Orton, or possibly even Shawn Michaels, Triple H, or Batista.

-Can be set as if story line is reality or as if the WWE creative team is behind it

-Any rating allowed on the community is fine

-Can be a pairing or a friendship fic (which is kinda why I listed Shawn up there...)

xxxxx

Because You Cared

xxxxx

"What do you mean, turn left?" he cried, eyeing the speaker disdainfully.

"What the hell do you think I mean by turn left, asshole?" the tinny voice replied.

"There is no left," he ground out, trying not to get too pissed at his navigator, who was quite clearly unimpressed by his ability to take directions. About as impressed as he was by said person's ability to actually do any navigating. "Look," he continued, wishing that he wasn't having a conversation with a piece of plastic, "just check a map or somethin' will ya?"

"What can you see," the man replied, sighing and John could hear the rustling sound of paper.

"What can I see?" he responded sarcastically. "I can see about a gallon of water on every side and that's about it, jackass."

"Did you pass the sign yet?"

"Orton," he continued, his patience wearing thinner with every word. "How many damn times to I have to tell you that I can't see a God damned thing? The road sign could be right in front of me and I'd hit the damn thing before I saw- FUCK!"

He swerved the car, skidding to the side and hitting the break pedal as hard as he could, trying not to panic as the car spun in a circle.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

He could hear Orton shouting at him from the speakers that were connected to his cell phone, but it was just background noise. All his concentration was on the car and what little he could see flashing with the lighting. It seemed to take forever before the car ground to a halt, listing precariously to one side on the grassy embankment before dropping onto all four wheels again, but he was sure it could only have been mere seconds.

His breathing was laboured and he felt as if his heart was about to thump right out of his damn chest. He was still gripping the steering wheel tightly and he focussed on his white knuckles, trying to calm himself.

"Cena! John, for fuck's sake, what the hell is going on?"

"Spun off the road," he muttered and his friend cursed.

"What happened?"

"There was- fuck! There was someone on the road." Without another thought, he unclipped his seatbelt and opened the door, running out into the pouring rain without a second thought. He looked around, but there he couldn't see anything until the lightning flashed again.

"Hey!" he shouted, spotting the figure that was suddenly lit up a few feet away from him. "You okay?" He continued approaching, cursing when he slipped around on the muddy grass. It was a woman, that much he could tell, but it wasn't until he was literally standing right in front of her that he realised who it was. Normally, he would let the insults fly the moment he spotted her, but not this time. This time, he could do nothing but stare at her wide-eyed.

"Jeezus," he muttered. "Lita, what the fuck are you doing out here?"

She shivered, but said nothing. If her eyes hadn't been puffy and red, he wouldn't have even noticed that she was crying, because she was soaked. She was also shivering so violently that she couldn't stand still.

He didn't like her, couldn't say that he regretted most of the things he'd said to her in the past, but, in that moment, he did the only thing he could do; he reached out and picked her up, cradling her in his arms as he turned and headed back to his car.

The fact that she didn't struggle worried him more than the scratch on her face or the blood on her ripped shirt.

Within minutes he had placed her on the driver's seat, ignoring the frantic voice of Randy Orton that was still coming from his speakers, and jogged round to the back of the car. He slipped a little as he popped open the boot, hissing as he hit his hand when he reached out to steady himself. He grabbed his bag and went back to the open door, scooting in alongside Lita and slamming the door shut behind him.

Her teeth were chattering and there were still tears streaming down her face. But she was completely silent. She didn't even look at him, just continued to stare blankly at the rain as it poured onto the front windscreen.

"Shit," he muttered, reaching out cautiously to touch her arm. She didn't react. "Lita?" he said, quietly. "Lita, what were you doing out there?"

"Lita?" Orton cried. "What the fuck-"

John reached out and ended the call, before switching his phone off completely. Randy would be pissed, but he'd deal with that later. Lita was his main concern.

"Lita, look at me," he demanded. He didn't know how to be all that gentle with people, but something told him that this wasn't the time for that anyway. She was swaying and unresponsive and he needed to snap her out of it. "Lita!"

She jumped and swung to face him, her eyes widening. She scampered to the far end of the passenger's seat and curled into a shivering ball. "P-please! D-don't h-hurt me."

Her teeth were chattering so badly that she must have bit her tongue, because a slow trickle of blood started to make its way out of the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, wincing at the terrified look in her eyes. "I promise."

"Y-you've hurt…b-fore. Y- …do it again." She wasn't even capable of getting a full sentence out.

"I won't. Not now. I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to get out of those wet clothes b- shit." At the mention of her taking her clothes off, she began to claw at the door, screaming and banging at the window.

"Shit! Lita! Lita, stop!" He reached out and grabbed hold of her shoulders before she managed to open the door. The last thing she needed was to be out in that again. "Lita, please! I'm not gonna hurt you. Damn it, woman, what the hell happened to you?" he intoned, his voice quieting as he tried to hold onto her.

He managed to pull her onto his lap and struggled for a moment, before he was able to get her arms trapped by her sides. His arms were encircling her and he hated himself for it, because it was no longer just the fact that she was wet and cold that was causing her to shake; she was sobbing almost hysterically, her entire body wracking with the effort.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering in her ear. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. I promise I'm not gonna hurt ya."

He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but he was sure that the only reason she stopped crying was because she had run out of tears. She began to cough, great choking sounds that tore at her throat, and he wondered briefly if she was going to be sick. He hoped not, because he was damned if he was letting go of her and he had no inclination to be covered in sick.

He murmured in her ears soothingly, not even sure what the hell he was saying, just that he had to say something. He had never seen anyone in this state before, never seen anyone look so terrified and broken, and he hoped to God he never would again.

He didn't even notice the tears that were streaking down his own face.

"Shhh, shh, that's it, deep breaths."

She was no longer struggling against him, but she was shivering so badly that he'd had to loosen his grip on her. He watched her faded reflection in the front window and waited until he was sure she was calmer.

"Shhh, it's okay."

He knew it wasn't.

"Please, Lita," he said, praying that he wasn't about to set her off again. He chose his words carefully. "You gotta put something dry on or you' gonna get sick."

A few moments later, just as he was beginning to think that she couldn't hear him, she jerked her head and he hoped it was a nod. He loosened his hold on her a little more, waiting to see if she was about to freak out again, before letting go of her completely. She didn't even make a move to get off his lap.

He reached around her and opened the holdall he'd taken out of the back of his car and unzipped it, raking around for something warm for her to wear.

"I don't got much," he muttered. "Nothin' that'll fit anyhow, but…this should keep you warm."

He pulled out a towel, a t-shirt, some jogging pants, and a black hoodie. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do next. He didn't think she was capable of changing herself as she was shaking so badly, but, given her earlier reaction, he didn't think she was likely to welcome his help.

"C-can't…" She began to cough again and he realised her throat must be too dry and sore to speak.

"Here," he said, reaching into the back seat of the car. He pulled out a water bottle and opened it for her. She made to take it from him, but he shook his head and batted her hand out of the way. "No way you're holdin' that steady," he said softly. He gently cupped her chin, flinching as she jerked away. "Just let me help you. Please."

She looked into his eyes for a brief moment, before turning away. A moment later, she pressed her shivering cheek into his palm. He helped her take a few small gulps of water, not letting her have too much, just enough to soothe her throat.

When he'd capped the bottle and returned it to the floor behind him, he looked at her uncertainly. "I don't want you to freak out on me, but you need to change and…I don't see ya doin' that on your own."

Her eyes instantly filled with tears and he cursed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He hated this. He had no idea how he'd ended up in this situation, why the hell it'd had to be him that find her, but he knew he couldn't leave her. Not now.

"'Kay."

Her voice was quiet, but he reacted as if she'd shouted. He gazed into her eyes.

"You sure?" She nodded jerkily and he let out a breath.

Carefully, he reached out to her waist, flinching when she, again, jerked away from the contact. He muttered an apology. Her mouth twitched into an almost-smile and he sighed, knowing that she was trying to say sorry. She didn't have anything to say sorry for. Given that they were usually throwing insults or threatening each other (not to mention the fact that she was always interfering in his matches and he had done his finishing move on her), he figured that he was lucky she trusted him at all.

He tried again and, although she jumped at the contact, she allowed him to grab hold of the thin t-shirt and pull it over her head. He had to remove her arms one at a time because they were shaking so much. He frowned as he caught sight of the angry cut on her shoulder, the one that had clearly been the result of whatever had ripped her shirt.

"What the hell happened, Lita?" His voice was low and he didn't expect an answer. He dried her off, one arm at a time, and studiously avoided even looking as he ran the towel over her chest.

He raked through the bag again, coming out with a small first aid kit. Without asking, he began to clean up the cut, but she didn't even flinch when he wiped it with antiseptic. When it was bandaged, he reached for the t-shirt he'd taken from his bag and pulled it gently over her head.

"Eh…" He winced. "I'm gonna need to… I mean…"

This time she did smile a little. He gave her a bashful look as he reached his hand up the back of the t-shirt and fumbled with the hook of her bra. It took a few embarrassing minutes before he was able to get it undone. He quickly discarded it and helped her put her arms into the sleeves of her shirt.

"He d-didn't rape me," she said softly and his head jerked up so that he could meet her honest gaze. He didn't have to ask who she was talking about either. "I kn-know you th-thought th… 'n- w-wanted y-…know he d-didn't."

John let out a relieved breath, leaning his head gently on her shoulder. "Thank God."

It was a good minute before he was able to pull himself together again.

The process of getting her changed took a long time, because he had begun to shiver himself. He hadn't been in the rain for as long as she had, but he had been sitting in wet clothes for some time and the fact that his engine was off meant that there was no heat in the car.

When she was fully dressed, looking tiny in his clothes, he gave her a smile. He never thought he'd see the day when Lita would be wearing a 'Word Life' hoodie. He bet she'd never thought she would either.

"Y- n-next." She said, still shivering somewhat.

He nodded as she slipped off his lap, curling into a ball on the passenger seat as he pulled out more clothing. He tried not to blush when he realised she was watching the entire process, right down to the small smirk when she saw his boxers.

He dressed quickly and threw everything but the towel into the back seat.

"C'mere," he said, picking it up and turning so that one of his legs was on the seat, creating a space for her to sit between them. She looked at him warily and he held up the towel. "Just wanna dry your hair, Red."

She nodded and moved towards him, hissing when her sore shoulder hit the steering wheel. He wanted to ask her what had happened, wanted to demand that she tell him everything so that he could go and find her so-called boyfriend and beat the shit out of him, but he didn't. Because, even though he couldn't explain why, he wanted her to want to tell him.

It was crazy the way life worked.

She settled into his lap, moving around a little too much for his comfort, and patiently allowed him to towel her hair dry. He was relieved when he realised that she hadn't flinched away from him since he'd started to help her change.

"We had a fight," she said softly and he wasn't sure if he was more relieved that she her voice was no longer shaking so much or that he was finally getting his explanation. "H-he wants me to hit him at S-Summerslam; wants me to get you disqualified."

"And you said no?" he asked incredulously.

"N-no need to sound s-so surprised," she said, but not in the tone he'd have expected from her. She actually sounded amused.

"Sorry," he replied, "but we ain't 'xactly got the best track record, ya know."

She nodded and it was then that he realised that he'd stopped towelling her hair. He was rather embarrassed to notice that he was now playing with it instead. She didn't seem to mind.

"We've f-fought before, but th-this was worse. Since we broke up, things have-"

"Woah, back up a minute there, woman. You 'n' Edge broke up?"

She nodded. "A while ago. Wasn't working anymore."

"Then why the hell 're ya still wit' him?"

She turned in to look at him and, because he hadn't moved the arm that was resting on her shoulder, she was basically wrapped in his embrace. "Because I was afraid."

When she didn't expand he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Of me."

It wasn't a question.

"Not just you," she conceded, but he still felt like an asshole.

"But mos'ly me."

She nodded, biting her lip in a habit he'd seen her employ a hundred times before. However, given that her teeth were still chattering, she really did bite her lip.

"Shit," she cursed, reaching up to catch the trickle of blood.

"Here, le' me," he said, tilting her chin up so that he could see her lip properly. "What about the rip in your shirt?" He asked, studiously not looking at her. "The cut?"

She curled her legs around so that she was facing him, her back to the steering wheel, but he still didn't look at her, just continued to wipe at the small cut on her lip.

"I was driving," she said, picking up the narrative again. "H-he was getting on at me about stepping up our g-game again. Making it look like we're still R-Rated." He could see enough to know that she'd rolled her eyes at that. "He wants to make T-Trish jealous again."

"Trish?" This time he did look at her. "Trish Stratus? Edge and Trish Stratus? Trish Stratus?"

"You like saying her name, or something?"

At her teasing smile, he rolled his eyes. "Not like I had lotsa practice or anything. Just surprised is all."

"Yeah," Lita said, laughing humourlessly. "She's the 'Golden Girl' again. Why would she be with someone who's pretending to be with a slut like me?"

"Somethin' tells me you ain't no slut," he said softly.

"Only just getting that, aren't you?"

"Why'd ya freak out on me?" he asked, avoiding the accusation she'd so skilfully posed as a question. She raised her eyebrows sceptically. "Okay, so we don't got the best of relationships," she snorted and he smirked, conceding with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, so we got a pretty shitty relationship, but I'd never've hurt you."

"Yes, you would."

"Not when you looked like…"

She sighed and continued. "I said I wouldn't do another 'celebration'…didn't even agree to the first," she said softly. "He got mad and I told him to ask his slut to celebrate with him. He thought I was jealous." She laughed scornfully. "Why should I be jealous of that c-cow? She has everything I once had, but she's a f-fucking fake. She's the slut people think I am? It's her; she's just good at hiding it. Me? I'm just an easy t-target for the crowd and she wants to keep it all. Doesn't want to tarnish her reputation so all the things she does get put on me."

"Oral persuasion," he said and she smiled at him in surprise. "I already knew that wasn't you, though. Well, I found out a few days later." At her frown, he smiled. "Orton told me."

"Randy's always been nice to me."

"He's always been a jackass to me. He's just lucky we're related, or I'd never give 'im the time o' day."

"Your related to Randy?" she exclaimed and he chuckled.

"Cousins. Well, half cousins once removed or some shit like that, but we got a close family." He shrugged. "I never wanted to ride on his old man's career, or pop's. Plus, we figure it's easier to just say nothin'."

"Oh."

"So, you was tellin' me how you ended up in the middle of nowhere in the pissin' rain," he gently prompted.

She nodded and turned, leaning closer to him in order to rest against the back of the driver's seat instead. He tried not to react to the fact that she was practically sitting on his lap with her face barely a few inches form his. He thought he was doing pretty well, considering.

"He got mad and I lost concentration. The car slipped off the road and when I stopped, I just lost it. I started shouting at him and I just couldn't stop." She frowned. "I'm pretty sure I even slipped into Spanish, so it's entirely possible that he d-doesn't have a clue what I was saying. Might explain why he let the gonorrhoea comment about Trish slide," she murmured and he laughed. She smiled up at him and, for a moment, he thought about doing something stupid; like kissing her.

"Anyway," she continued, shaking her head and breaking their locked gaze. "I was mad and tried to get out of the car. He grabbed me and I hit him. He might even have a black eye," she said, smiling briefly. "He grabbed me when I was getting out of the car. I think that's when I hurt my arm. I…I just couldn't take it anymore," she said softly. "And I was so mad. He was shouting at me and I wasn't listening, just shouting back and then he…" She swallowed and began to fiddle with neckline of his shirt, her eyes studiously focussed on his adams' apple as he tried not to react to the soft caresses of her fingertips.

"And what?" he asked softly, reaching out to tilt her chin up.

She looked into his eyes again. "He just drove away."

He clenched his jaw. "He drove away and left you in the middle of fucking nowhere in the God damn rain?"

She nodded and he could see her eyes tearing up again. "My phone and purse and everything are still in the car. All my stuff."

"We're miles away from anythin'," he said, his anger mounting.

"I already walked for about ten minutes before you stopped. At least," she said haltingly, "I think it was only ten minutes, seemed like longer, though. I-I don't really remember. I was so mad and then…I couldn't see where I was and it was so cold and wet and…I was so scared, John," she whispered, her tears spilling over. It was the first time she'd said his first name without making it sound like an insult. He only wished she hadn't sounded, instead, like her heart was breaking.

He gathered her into his arms, almost expecting her to break down again, but she didn't. Instead, she took a few deep breaths before continuing.

"By the time you came along…I don't know. I was just so spaced out. I'd already run through a million and one different scenarios, each one more horrible that the one before. I thought I was going to die out here. It just all hit me and when I saw you…"

He closed his eyes, a wave of self-loathing flooding through him. He'd never have done anything like what she was insinuating. Not to her, not to anyone. But the fact that she'd even entertained the thought, even for a single passing moment, made him feel sick to the stomach.

His eyes flickered open when he felt her fingers brush against his lashes. He looked down as she pulled back from him, her gaze meeting his.

"It wouldn't have mattered who it was, John. I don't know him all that well, but I trust Randy more than any guy in the world," she continued, smiling at him. "That might not say much about the men in my life, but he's the only person who's been remotely kind to me in a long time and I would have reacted exactly the same way even with him."

John nodded and reached out to brush her hair back from her forehead. He frowned and held the back of his hand against her head.

"I ain't no doctor and my temperature pro'ly isn't prefect to judge it, but you're burnin' up." He sighed. "We should get you to a doctor."

She winced. "I broke your car, remember."

He chuckled, not even realising that he was now caressing her face. "You didn't break it, sweetie," he said, the endearment slipping off his tongue without a moment's thought. "It should be fine."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a moment, before a look of determination set his face. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of him, you know."

"I know. You want your title back."

"Well," he said, smirking. "It does spin."

She groaned. "Ugh, you have no idea how close I came to beating Edge over the head with it after the first night, he wouldn't stop playing with it!"

John frowned. "Remin' me to have it thoroughly cleaned before I touch it."

She rolled her eyes and burrowed into his embrace. He didn't think she realised what she was doing, but he wasn't about to complain. The woman in his arms wasn't the Lita he'd thought he knew and he kinda liked her where she was.

"And that wasn't actually what I meant," he continued. She looked up at him again and he reached out to caress her face. "I mean I'm gonna kick the shit out of him for this."

He didn't have to clarify that, by 'this', he meant her. He was going to beat the man to a bloody pulp for leaving her in the middle of nowhere, injured, alone, and in the rain. The fact that she could have died in a myriad of ways didn't seem to have factored into Edge's decision to just leave her there and if it had then that was simply one more reason to kick the crap out of him.

"Why?" she asked tentatively.

"Because if I hadn't come along there's no saying what coulda happened to you." She winced and he squeezed her tightly, pleased that she wasn't shivering as much as she had been. He supposed that body heat had something to do with it, but he wasn't about to dwell on that, because there lay thoughts that would likely get him castrated.

"He wouldn't have cared."

"He's an asshole."

"You wouldn't have either," she said. He wasn't sure if it would have been better or worse if she'd said it accusingly.

"Yeah, Lita, I would have. I might not've liked you, but I ain't about to be happy about someone getting…well, about anythin' that mighta happened to ya."

She nodded. "I believe you."

"You wanna be in my corner at Summerslam?" he asked suddenly. He wasn't sure who was more surprised by the question: him or Lita.

"What?" Her eyes were wide and he couldn't help but smile at the adorable look on her face.

He shrugged, which was hard to do given that the Diva was pretty much pressed right against him. "You got a grudge against him, I intend to kick his ass, and I figure you might want to get in a few cheap shots after I win."

"I'd like that."

"And," he continued, "I guess I kinda like this side of you."

"There are a lot of other, less pretty, sides to me."

He smirked. "Not any of the angles I've been look at." She mock glared at him and tried to hit him, but her hands were trapped between them. "Look," he said, running a hand gently up and down her spine. "I know I don't know you and you don't like what you know of me-"

"I kinda like what I'm seeing now," she said softly and he smiled. Her mouth twitched and she closed her eyes.

The blush on her cheeks was far too intriguing. "What?"

"I just…those dimples should come with a warning label," she muttered, opening her eyes. He was openly grinning at her now and she rolled her eyes. "Don't think this means, anything, Cena, I-"

"Oh, it's Cena now? It was John a minute ago."

"Yeah, well, the smug bastard known as 'Cena' just took his place."

"Hey now, you can't say somthin' like that and not expect me to be a bit please wit' myself."

"You didn't do anything. You have nothing to be pleased with yourself about."

"Well, your cheeks match your hair at the momen', so I say different."

She pouted.

He couldn't resist.

He leaned forward and gently brushed her lips with his own. It lasted only a moment, but it was more than enough time for him to realise he wanted to do it again.

"What was that for," she whispered, her lips still close enough that they were brushing his as she spoke.

"Because."

"Okay," she said and leaned forward to kiss him again.

He kept the pace slow, letting her take the lead and not objecting when her tongue flicked against his lips, seeking entrance. He pulled her tight against him and deepened the kiss. He was pretty damn sure he could kiss her forever and not want to stop.

BANG!

They jumped apart. Lita scrambled off his lap, but stayed close enough to clutch at his arm. He squinted out the window and cursed under his breath. He turned to look at her, cringing.

"It's Randy."

For a moment he thought she might freak out. Instead, she began to chuckle. By the time he'd opened the door and scooted over enough to let his cousin into the car, she was laughing hysterically.

"What the fuck is going on?" the Legend Killer demanded and he couldn't help it; he started laughing with her.

"Are you guys high?"

It took a few minutes for them to calm down enough to fill Randy in. By the time they got things up to date, Lita was sitting quietly in John's embrace and there was a look in Randy's eyes that John had never seen before.

"I'm going to tear him apart, slowly and painfully," Randy said quietly and so deadly calm that it sent a shiver down John's spine.

"Get in line."

Randy eyed them both for a minute, before raising his eyebrows. "Why the fuck is Lita wearing your clothes?"

"She was wet."

Randy smirked and John rolled his eyes as Lita reached out to hit him.

"Go fuck Hogan's daughter," John responded and Lita shot him an exasperated look for his childishness.

Randy winced. "Don't make me sick, man. You know fine well I'm only flirting with her to drive 'daddy' crazy."

"Yeah, and Lilian would kill you if you even thought about it," John muttered.

Lita's eyes widened. "You and Lilian?" Randy nodded and she smiled softly. "We used to be friends, you know."

"I know," he replied. "She misses you."

"I miss her, too."

"Well, ya can tell her that when we get back to the house," John said and Lita looked at him questioningly. "If you think, for one second, that I'm lettin' you go off to a hotel where you'll pro'ly have to face him, think again. We'll get your stuff on Monday."

Randy nodded. "I'm sure Lily's got something you can wear."

Lita smiled at them. "I'd like that."

"Orton does too, thinks the cowboy boots and mini skirts make him look hot."

Randy hit him on the head as Lita laughed. "You're an idiot," he muttered.

"Runs in the family," John retorted.

"Shut up."

"You're both idiots," Lita said and they turned to look at her. She squeezed John's hand and he smiled at her. "And I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Randy said. He winked at her and moved to the door. "I'll wait 'til you pull out, make sure the car's gonna run okay. See you back at the house." He smiled and exited the car, the door slamming shut behind him.

They sat in silence and Lita shifted uncomfortably.

"We should get moving," she said, smiling at him, nervously.

He nodded. "Yeah, we should." When she wouldn't look him in the eyes, he reached out and took hold of her chin, turning her head round. He smiled gently, his dimples barely showing. "This," he said, "whatever you 'n' me got goin' here? We'll figure it out, but, either way, you ain't gettin' rid of me now."

She grinned and leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. "Thank you, John."

He smiled, turning to glance out the back window when Randy tooted his horn and began to flash his car headlights.

"We should get going," she said softly and he nodded. She crawled out of his lap and he shifted back into the driver's seat, cursing as he sat on the wet patch Randy had left. He pulled on his seatbelt and watched as she did the same. A moment later he started the car, but he didn't pull out.

"What?" she asked, self-consciously.

"Nothin'," he replied with a grin. "Just lookin'."

She rolled her eyes, but there was an obvious blush on her too-pale face.

"And Lita?" She turned to look at him again. "You're welcome."

xxxxx

The End

xxxxx

Phew! Well…that was a little longer than I'd intended! A lot more serious as well, for the most part. It seems that my newly acquired John muse likes things angsty. Well, at least he got a kiss this time.

Hope you enjoyed. I'd write another challenge response just now, but I'm knackered and coming down off my coffee high! I've got a chapter of Cry Me a River ready to post and I'm hoping to get more written later. My goal is to have it completely finished, proofed, and ready to post, in its entirety, by the end of the weekend. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

I'll also try to get more of All To Survive and Full Circle done soon, as well.

Ooh, I'm a happy, happy Kyizi! My muses like me again!

And I'm gonna keep plugging this until more of you sign up:

I'm still looking for writers who might be up for taking part in a Lita Ficathon. Interested parties should check out the post on my LiveJournal (it's open to be viewed by all).

kyizi (dot) livejournal (dot) com / 111443 (dot) html