A/N: Hi guys! I'm back, sort of. This time, thanks to WWE'sFinestDiva2012, I'm trying my hand at some Randy. I'm not quite sure how long this is going to be quite yet, but hang with me. I (unfortunately) do not own Randy Orton, John Cena, or any other recognizable WWE stars. Those are property of, well, WWE, and Sara is property of WWE'sFinestDiva2012. Reviews will earn you chocolate (if you want to go out and buy some chocolate)! Well, I hope you like it. Happy Reading!
TLC
"He's done it! He's done it! Randy Orton is a ten time World Champion!" screamed Michael Cole into his headset. Everyone in the arena was on their feet, cheers filling the space. The tired superstar stood in the middle of the ring, the defeated giant at his feet. One hand grasped the World Heavyweight Championship and the other was being raised by the ref. "Voices" was blasting through the arena as he mounted the second rope and threw his arms wide in his signature pose. The cheering went on for a good five minutes as he made his way back behind the curtain. A few of his good friends, mainly John and Sheamus, were standing near the screen, grinning. He got claps on the back and congratulations as he made his way to his tour bus. Opening the door revealed a slim, caramel-skinned brunette perched daintily on the couch, eyes on the screen that showed the pay-per-view. He leaned against the door frame and let his eyes roam over her. She was his epitome of perfection – more gorgeous than any diva could hope to be.
"What's on TV?" he teased lightly, not moving from his spot by the door. Large gray-green eyes turned in his direction and her full lips turned up in a smile.
"Nothing, just some silly WWE thing," she teased back. "I'm waiting for my brother's match you know." She was referring to John – she was the reason they were such good friends. He dropped his lips in an over-exaggerated pout and she laughed as she rose gracefully and wrapped her arms around his waist. In turn, his wound around her back and he automatically breathed in, inhaling her vanilla-and-sunshine scent. Her lips pressed lightly to his jawline before she pulled back. "Of course I saw your match, too. Why wouldn't I want to watch my gorgeous husband in a speedo?" Her squeals echoed through the parking garage as he swung her up over his shoulder and closed the door. Neither noticed the three sets of eyes watching coldly from the shadows.
Present
"Hey have you guys seen Sara?" Randy asked as he made his way through the back, having won his match. He had looked for her near the break room – she was almost always there when he competed. Heads shook the more he asked, but he refused to be worried. She hated it when he got upset. Sighing, he opened the door to the locker room and placed his belt neatly near his space. A hulking mass came in next and he smiled. "John have you seen your sister?"
"I haven't. C'mon man, don't tell me you lost your wife," his brother-in-law teased, dramatically placing his hand to his head. He grabbed a towel and ran it over his chest before sitting next to the current World Heavyweight Champion. "You know Sara. She probably got bored and went back to the bus to finish planning. Didn't you say you were taking leave to go the Bahamas or something?" Randy nodded, getting the same dreamy look on his face that he had when he first met his wife five years ago.
"Yeah. Our anniversary is coming up. I told her she shouldn't be flying, but she's been set on the Bahamas for years now. I can't say no."
"You, my man, are whipped. But you're right, surprisingly. Pregnant women don't fly," John announced, standing up and stretching. He worried about his sister's determination. She didn't think sometimes.
"She should be okay. Her doctor said that she should wait, go on vacation after she's had the baby. She was a little upset, but she listened. She loves that bump more than me," sighed the third-generation superstar dramatically. He toweled off and slipped into sweats, dragging the dreaded signature tee over his torso. Company rules stated he had to wear it when in the public eye and just about everyone he knew but John got sick of seeing their t-shirts. He leaned to the side, sighing as his joints cracked. A few more stretches and he said his goodbyes to Cena and the few other superstars in the locker room before making his way out to the tour bus.
He shook his head as he walked, not believing that his six-month-pregnant wife was still traveling with him. He tried to convince her to stay home the day that they'd found out but she'd been adamant – she wanted him to be there over the course of her pregnancy and, since he couldn't just take a nine month vacation, the solution, as she saw it, was to pack up her life and join him on the road. A smile formed on his face as he thought about Sara. They'd met at WrestleMania, thanks to her brother, and she had hated him at first. She said he was arrogant and cocky, words she still used to describe him, but lovingly. He'd decided to take up the challenge of winning her over and, before he knew it, he was in love. John had almost punched his face in when they'd come out publically, but Sara was happy and that's all that he cared about. He'd known pretty quickly that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and, four years later, they still acted like newlyweds. Add their soon-to-be baby boy into the mix and they were the stereotypical happy family. "Sara," he called as he opened the door. He froze mid-stride. The bus was destroyed. Chairs were overturned, picture frames were broken, and, unless his wife had gone on a hormonal rampage, someone had been there that shouldn't be. "Sara!" he yelled again, stepping over the broken glass and crumpled papers as he threw open the doors to the bathroom and the bedroom, his stomach plummeting when he couldn't find her. A small white rectangle taped to the wall near the door caught his eyes and, as he read it, fury and fear coursed through him. His free hand clenched and slammed into the wall and his back slid down the wall of the bus until he hit the floor. The paper floated to the ground as he lifted his hands to his face.
Randy
Taking advantage of a weakened Champion at TLC? That's an injustice. So we give you an ultimatum. Relinquish your belt on air on Friday. And if you don't? Well, Sara seems like an awful lot of fun.
-Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins
The Shield
