Disclaimer: I own the OCs everything else is owned by the rightful artists cited in the story.

Date started: 12/25/12

Date finished:7/15/13

Ch. 1

Randy

Today is the day; I finally get to meet my girl. The higher ups have called up some of new talent from NXT to learn firsthand from the older guys in the locker room. Vince and Hunter came up with the idea to have the veteran wrestlers pair up with some of the new talent. Honestly it's very similar to the original traditions of the business, just with a few adjustments and obligations. Of course Vets pick who they want to work with but I kept putting it off and got stuck with a chick. They think these kids have potential to be the future, so I'll give her a chance to see what she can learn in nine months. After all, she did survive down in Florida Championship Wrestling.

Today we get to meet our shadows, so mine had better come prepared to work. In my hand is a tiny slip of paper containing my kid's name; her name is supposed to be Honor Brice. Backstage in Gorilla position, usually there's Dusty Rhodes, Michael Hayes, and a couple of other guys that help work with the Superstars and Divas as they see fit. For now those guys have gone to a meeting with creative, before the show starts later on tonight. I take a quick peek on the other side of the curtain, finding that the ring is already occupied with lighting techs and other roadies, tying up loose ends. After ten years plus more of life on the road, I am still amazed at how fast our road crew can breakdown equipment, travel to a different city, set up and repeat the cycle. With my head else where I turn around and wander to the monitor bay, quietly awaiting one of the FCW trainers to give me additional information on my kid.

The seven kids are already lined up in the ring two of them are girls and the rest guys. They consisted of a couple of rather orange tanned, juice heads, one hulk of a man, two average guys, one super short delicate, pale, dainty girl, and a milky chocolate skinned black girl. I assume she is Honor, because her brown eyes are boring straight into my own, smiling. I sort of sneer in her direction, wondering if she knows something I don't.

"Randy Orton, I assume you all know who I am. I've got Honor Brice." I stare at the African-American girl as she breaks into a brilliant grin while raising her hand waving at me. The rest of my colleagues find their kids and I greet Honor. A couple of the guys shoot jealous glares in her direction.

"You already know my name; let's go hit the gym." This girl has a high pitched, animated and enthusiastic voice; it fits her stature.

"Did you already know I was going to be paired with you?"

"I had my fingers crossed the entire time," she says with a smile budding. The first thing I notice about her is that she isn't my 'type' hallelujah; at the same time I also note that she is easy on the eyes, a unique beauty with big, brown eyes. There's a subtle wildness to her that alerts one to tread lightly. She's about five-six, 140 pounds, and is about twenty-one. She has a womanly frame; her large chest balances her wide hips; her physique fits that of a belly dancer, not a wrestler. A hint of mystery and intense wisdom lie beneath the surface of her eyes; something about her is intriguing.

Making small talk I ask her, "Where are you from sweetheart?"

She slows down to match my stride, "South Carolina, that redneck state."

"Why would you say something like that? Aren't you proud of your home state?" Her response kind of shocked me. Conveniently there is a gym right across the street from the arena. I walk ahead and hold the door for her like a gentleman. She casts another of her bright, white smiles as thanks.

"Our governor is the most ass backwards slut I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Most people there are concerned with getting shitfaced, and I have idiotic people talking out of their asses thinking it will get them in my pants, but the food and weather is great."

"Well then darlin' I really don't know how to answer that." I take my iPhone out of my pocket and program the treadmill for my cardio period.

"Everyone isn't that bad though." Honor looks around the gym for some nefarious reason, shrugs, "I will meet you in the dance studio when you finish?"

"Uhh, okay?" Honor bounces away; her hips highlighted by the folded top of her yoga pants. I catch myself staring after the girl. The more I think of her the more attractive she becomes.

In no time at all, I power through my cardio and move on to strength training. I do a repetitive circuit containing squats, lunges, and push-ups all weighted. The whole time my little shadow subjects my mind to pure carnal thoughts. I miss my wife, before Honor joined me I had already been traveling for two weeks straight. Honestly it's wasteful to hop on a jet just to go home for half a day but if I don't mind I'll get to be home if only for a little while.

By time I'm finished I can't remember where Honor said to meet her so I wander through the halls stretching, cooling down. Walking through the hall I hear some type of Latin music. It's rather irritating, something I'd never listen to. Either way I follow either out of curiosity or irritation, it leads to the dance studio. Duh she told me to meet her here. The music probably seems loud to me because I don't like it. Honor is in front of the mirror, rolling her hips and swaying to the rhythm of the music, sweat rivulets glide down her exposed spine. On her face rests a pleasant smile while she assesses the sultry movement of her body. Every sharp knock of her hip and smooth wave of her arms, piece together an extremely fluid, sensual dance. For the next thirty minutes give or take I stand in the corner invisible to her.

"What 'cha thinking bout, Teach?" I'd been so wrapped in my imagination to realize she caught me viewing the show.

I lie, quite horribly, "Stuff." Honor knows I'm lying just as well as I do; she glances down at my now hard dick and chuckles.

"Actually you need to take a cold shower, boss man," she mocks. I scowl and watch her grab a bottle of water from her gym bag and guzzle it down. She looks around then peels off the sweaty crop top and quickly replaces it with the WWE company shirt.

"Yeah, you're real funny," I frown at her because she's embarrassing me and enjoying it. She isn't really proving to me that she should be here. "Tomorrow, there will be no playing around. I hope your cute little ass can keep up with the big boys."

"I know, my ass is cute," she chuckles then says, "Do you think you can keep up with me?"

"What the hell were you doing in here for over," I check my phone, "an hour? Do you know what kind of opportunity you have?" I question her. Where do they get these girls?

"If you're wondering if I'm aware of...the opportunity I've been bestowed by working with you then yes I am aware. I was simply blowing off some steam. I got in a hardcore workout this morning. I'm always in the gym not because I like it but because I have to be."

Oh boy! This is going to be a big waste of time.

This story was written a year ago as the WWE landscape was changing. I appreciate if you were to leave a review and to comment. Thank you!