Title: Transitions

Rating: NC-17 for language, strong sexual content, adult themes

Disclaimer: We do not know, own or endorse any of the characters except any original characters that may come about in this work of fiction; the rest of the characters belong to WWE. These characters are loosely based off of their TV personas. Thank you for not suing.

A/N: This is story is co-written with one of the coolest chicks I know, TheRealKellyAnne. We both have a few things on our plates, so I can't say how often we'll get around to updating, but we're having fun writing it and really that's all that matters.

Thank you for taking the time to check us out and we hope you enjoy! R&R

Prologue

You know, sometimes I wonder why the hell things work out like they do. Like, how did I get to this point in my life and things like that? I know that if I had the answers to those kinds of questions, I would be a powerful wizard indeed. But sometimes, even though I know I'll never know, I can't help but to question.

For example, if anyone would have told me that I would meet, date, fall in love with, and get my heart broken by Randy Orton, I would have told them they were a damn lie. First of all, there was no way on God's green earth a man like that would be interested in a girl like me. Not that there's anything wrong with me. I mean, I'm smart, and fun. I like to think I'm alright looking – nothing to write home about, but you understand... I'm a safe girl. I do what I'm supposed to do. I work, pay my taxes, pay most of my bills on time. I go to church every Sunday and help out my elderly neighbor across the hall.

See what I mean? I'm safe. I pose no threat. I'm not exotic or erotic. I'm not flashy; hell, you have to have money to be flashy and that's one thing I don't have. So tell me, how in the fuck did I end up where I am now?

Randy Orton isn't what I would consider a safe man. Not that he's dangerous or anything; but...he's fine. Not just that, "oh he's fine" kinda thing either. No…I mean he's FINE!!! He's the type of man that makes heads turn and he's got a body that can make a nun blush. He's the type of guy that makes you want him to tie you up and spank you when you're naughty. Get my drift? A safe girl like me shouldn't want to be tied up and spanked by a fine ass man like that.

So by now, you're probably wondering what in the hell I'm talking about, right? Well trust me, you wouldn't believe me. Hell, it happened to me and I don't believe it most of the time. But it's the truth and I'm sticking to it.

You know, looking back on things, I probably shouldn't have let Jaxon talk me into being the chaperone to that stupid wrestling show anyway. I don't even really like wrestling; not anymore, anyway. I'm an old school girl. I liked Tito Santana, Ricky Steamboat, Lex Luger, Barry Windham…you know, those old guys. These new upstarts, I don't really know too much about, only what Jaxon tells me.

Oh, I didn't tell you about Jaxon did I? Well Jaxon's my little boy. He's the apple of my eye, the light of my life, the sun in my sky…the pain in my ass. Jaxon is my ten year old son. I guess before I get into that whole Randy part of the story, I should really tell you the Jaxon part of the story first and if I do that, I gotta tell you about Travis. Do things in order, that's what I'm always preaching to my son. I guess I should take my own advice.

Well, let's see…when I was sixteen I met this guy. Now I know, sixteen is not the age where your brain rules your life. At sixteen you're run by your hormones and believe me, Travis Williams had my hormones jumping all over the place. I thought I was hot shit with him. Let me tell you about Travis…

Travis was tall, dark, and handsome. He was from New York and had this sexy accent. Like the way he said coffee and laundry just made me giggle. And he was older. He was nineteen when I first met him. He's a medium brown with dark brown eyes and curly hair. He always said he had Indian in his family and that's how he got good hair. I didn't really give a shit about all that. All I knew was he was fucking gorgeous. And he didn't seem to care that I had boring mousy brown hair and boring ass blue eyes. He didn't notice that I was a plain Jane.

All my friends thought I was such hot shit because I had a black boyfriend. I guess it was a phase we were all going through. When he came to Baltimore, he brought that New York vibe that we thought was so cool. He introduced me to the Wu-Tang Clan and shit like that. My friends had never heard of a fucking Wu-Tang Clan before. And let me tell you, being one of fifteen white girls in the class of 1998 from City College High School and being with Travis gave me mad props. I had managed to be invisible my first two years there and then when I hooked up with Travis, I made it to super-star status.

It was just one of those right place at the right time things. I was working at Foot Locker, in East Point and poof…like something out of a Blacksploitation movie, in walked this cool drink of something. So anyway, he flirted, asked for my number, and the rest was history. We started dating and before I knew it, I was his girl. Oh, I didn't just jump into bed with him either. I was sixteen for God's sake. No…it took two whole weeks before that happened. And let me tell you, he rocked my world. But then again, I was sixteen and didn't know what the fuck I was doing anyway.

Well, we dated all through my junior year. He would pick me up everyday in his Infinity Q-45. All those bitches in high school were either scheming on how to steal my man or trying to be my friend. And it just so happened that my mortal enemy, this bitch named Patrice, that I've hated since fifth grade, found a way into Travis' bed.

Needless to say, we broke up. And guess what happened? Three weeks after we broke up, I call him crying my eyes out because I'm pregnant. My parents went ape-shit. Not only did they not know that Travis was nineteen, they also didn't know he was black. Talk about a nuclear meltdown in family values. They all but packed my pregnant ass up and shipped me out of the house.

Travis was really good about it though; for a while anyway. See…I moved in with him and we tried to make it work. At least, I did. Unfortunately, he still had this habit of fucking other girls. I didn't find out until later that he had been fucking other girls the whole time we were together. But what finally did it was when this one girl called my fucking apartment and told me that she was pregnant by his sorry ass, too.

That did it, I was done with him. But I was nine months pregnant and really, where the fuck was I gonna go? Long story short, I had the baby and as soon as I looked into Jaxon's eyes, I knew that he deserved more than his piece of shit father was going to give him. So, I called up my mom and as soon as she saw him, she felt the same way. My folks let me and Jaxon come back home, my mom watched him so I could finish high school and as soon as I did. I got a little bullshit job as temporary help at a mail tracking plant. That actually turned into a full time job with benefits with the Post Office and there you have it. I had a job and benefits and free daycare. I was able to move out, get an apartment, and take care of my son on my own.

Jaxon Williams is my everything. My little boy is truly my best friend. Hell, we grew up together. When you're twenty six with a ten year old, you really don't know much about being a parent. Me and Jaxon are more like brother and sister…really good friends, landlord and tenant, Will and Grace. Whatever we are, we don't act like mother and son.

Well, in the interest of keeping up the chain of events, Travis moved back to New York. He still gets Jaxon on some holidays and during the summer, which actually turns into being more like a week, when he's supposed to have him for the entire fucking summer. Not that I'm bitter or anything, but that shit pisses me off. I can't make plans or do anything, because sure as hell, he calls after a few days with same old, "sorry something came up…I'm gonna have to send him back home" bullshit. Don't get me wrong, Travis tries to be a good father, I guess. But Jaxon is getting to that age where he needs a man around all the time. Not just a fucking phone call in between Travis fucking his bitches.

Can you tell there's no love lost between me and Travis? For what it's worth, the little checks he sends me help and I haven't had to trip out on his ass or take him downtown since Jaxon was four. But I don't really like him. And I promise you, it's not baby momma drama. He's just a piece of shit and if he gets that boy's hopes up one more time only to disappoint him again, I'm gonna fucking stab him in the throat.

So, I've been raising my boy on my own. And let me tell you, it's no easy feat. But me and Jaxon grew up together. He thinks he's my father, and I let him dictate my life. I mean really, what else I got going on? I'm on the damn PTA, soccer mom extraordinaire, little league manager, den mother, Tae-Kwon-Do Tournament Team fundraising guru…you name it, it's all for Jaxon.

I don't mind really, just kinda over compensating for his piece of shit father. It's been like that for years. It's always been just me and my boy. It's not like I could date if I wanted to. See, my son has cock blocking down to an art form. He just knows when it's that time, it's like he's got radar or some shit. You should see some of the creative ways he's stopped anything good from happening. And it's not like I date a lot either. I've only dated a handful of guys casually through the years, and none of them lasted. Wanna know why? Jaxon Antonio Williams. Guys see him and run the other way. He can turn into the devil's spawn when it comes to me. It's kinda sweet in a sick twisted way. I know he's just looking out for me, but damn. The kid has got to let me grow up sometime.

Okay…I'm getting off topic. I'm supposed to be telling you how I got here with Randy Orton, right? Well, it's really a long story and of course, it's all that Jaxon's doing. So, I suggest you get comfortable and don't ask too many questions. I'm telling you, you're gonna think I'm full of shit when I tell you this story.

But, you said you wanted to hear it. So here it is…