Disclaimer: Standard, we own nothing.
For Timeframe sakes: Occurs the week before SummerSlam.
Notes: Joint fic. between LittleKnux2008 and justagirl8225. Enjoy and please review.
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Prologue
Lita let out a tired sigh, stretching her aching arms overhead as she and Stacy Keibler packed up for the night. After the crazy evening they had endured -- thanks to Jazz and Molly Holly -- the red headed diva was more than ready to just go veg out in her hotel room. One quick glance to the blonde, and the redhead knew that she was in need of it too.
However, this solace would not be quick to come by as a stagehand popped his head in to the locker room.
"Excuse me, Lita?" The young man asked almost shyly, "Mr.Bischoff needs to speak with you."
The diva in question groaned, but got up from the bench anyway; sending a bright smile to the stage hand. "Let him know I'll be right there."
The stage hand nodded his farewell and Lita turned annoyed hazel orbs to her friend. "Well, I guess I've got one more ride on this oh so fun night" the diva rolled her eyes, her words laced with sarcasm.
"If you want, I'll just meet you in the parking lot?"
Stacy nodded, sweeping her long locks away from her face. "I'll keep my fingers crossed that it's not something to icky."
Lita quirked a lopsided grin before she off handedly waved; ducking out of the locker room to meet with the Boss.
---
'Well, the last time I had to meet with Eric, it wasn't half that bad.'
The redhead smiled softly to herself, recalling the cross promotional autograph session she had done with John Cena. Truth be told, the diva did have some reservations about the whole thing. She hadn't really spent much time, if any time, at all with the out spoken SmackDown star. But, she had to admit, just as Dawn Marie constantly insisted; John Cena really wasn't half that bad. The redhead inwardly sighed, recalling the look of pure jubilation on Dawn's face after that admittance. At first, Lita had thought Dawn was up to one of her Yenta-like schemes and Lita was quick to protest. But, when she realized that Dawn really wanted John for herself; the redhead got worried. Lita did groan when she recalled the slew of blind dates that Dawn was oh so quick to try and set her up on.
'That girl never quits. If I could just find a way to get it through to her, that I am not interested in anyone. Dawn might be one of my best friends; but that does not entitle her to setting me up for double dates'
Lita shook her head ruefully, sweeping her hair from her face as she stood outside of Eric Bischoff's office for the evening.
"You needed to see me?" The diva enquired, a quizzical look on her features as she entered the office.
"Why yes!" The boss proclaimed, a rather unsettling smile on his face. "Please, have a seat."
Lita nodded, highly wary of the situation to begin with, now even more so. "Thanks" she mumbled quietly, leaving the door slightly ajar before she took a seat on the couch.
"I just wanted to say, fantastic job on your match tonight." Eric's eyes glinted. "Just too bad..you couldn't win."
A tight smile was all the diva offered in return, clenching and un-clenching one hand at her side. "Was there a reason you needed to see me?"
"I'll get to that in a minute" Bischoff reassured, a manila envelope in his hand. "We're waiting on one more person."
"Okay" Lita shifted on the couch, one leg twitching slightly.
Thanks to the slightly opened door; the redhead could plainly hear the approach of someone. Or as it turned out, someone's. The diva rolled her eyes as Triple H -- King Jerk of the Roster -- held court with his associates in Evolution. Only when the feet stopped and the conversation continued, just outside the office door; did the diva really start to get annoyed.
-----
"Yeah, I'll be a minute" A voice ensured to the others. "You better not start that party without me, man."
Hazel eyes turned towards the door, an uneasy feeling in her stomach as it was slowly pushed open.
"Eric!" Randy Orton proclaimed brightly, practically waltzing into the office. "You needed to see me?"
"So glad you could join us Randy, please" Eric gestured to the empty spot on the couch. "Have a seat"
Lita sent a suspicious glance, first to the boss; then to the body that was evidently joining her on the couch.
"Well well well, if it isn't the lovely Lita" Randy flashed a heart melting smile to the diva. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The redhead smiled tightly, scooting closer to the opposite end of the couch; practically scrambling to sit on the arm. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered that you know my name or worried that you're actually using some manners."
Orton raised a brow, kicking back on the couch. "I make it a point to learn the names of all of the lovely ladies in this company."
"Then why don't you do me a favor" Lita smiled sweetly, "Forget mine."
Just as Randy was opening his mouth to retort; Bischoff beat him to the punch.
"Well, Randy; as I was telling Lita. I would let her know what was going on as soon as our other party got here." He gestured with his hands, moving from behind the desk to perch on the edge. "And, now that you're both here; I'll let you all know what's going on."
"Last month, we had a rather successful interpromotional autograph session. And, after a few phone calls with Mr. Long, we feel that this would be a wonderful way to bring more viewing audience to our up coming joint pay-per-view." Eric paused, looking between his chosen candidates. "So, on Wednesday; the two of you will be meeting up with two of your counterparts from SmackDown."
The diva blinked in dis-belief. "Excuse me?" She squeaked out, sending an incredulous look to the boss. "You want me to travel with that?
"Well, it won't just be traveling." The boss held up the envelope. "Here's your detailed schedule. Also enclosed are your vouchers for the rental car, a list of WWE approved hotels, all pertinent tickets for scheduled appearances and last but not least-- a corporate credit card."
Lita groaned, rubbing her temples. "Do we at least get to go home tomorrow?"
"Whoa, hold on there a minute" Orton raised a hand before Bischoff could respond. "So you're telling me, I have to sacrifice a whole four days that I could be putting to better use. To do what? Promote this pay-per-view?"
"A pay per view that you are headlining" Eric reminded the young man rather crisply. "Besides which, on Saturday, you and Lita need to be in Toronto. SummersSlam's pre-event for the fans. Just think of the previous three days as a warm-up."
Orton sent a challenging look in the boss' direction. "Do we have a choice?"
"Let me think about that" Eric removed his reading glasses, a dramatic pause for effect before he responded firmly. "No. Either you do this, or I can suspend you from SummerSlam"
"I'm not even--"
"And RAW for a week" Bischoff added as an afterthought; a triumphant glare sent to the two. "Now, to answer your previous question, Lita"
"While you won't meet up with your SmackDown counterparts until Wednesday; this promotional tour officially begins for the two of you as soon as the sun-rises tomorrow. There are two tickets in here for the two of you. You'll need to arrive in Detroit no later than 2:00 p.m. The details are on your schedule."
Lita let out a controlled breath, clenching and unclenching her hands before she shot a withering glare to her new travel partner. "I'll see you in the morning then." She smiled crisply the boss, extending a slim hand.
"If you expect me to do this? You'll give me that envelope. Now"
Bischoff gulped un-easily; hesitantly handing the envelope over. "Have fun"
"Oh so much I'm sure" She spat back causticly, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the door.
----
Just as the redhead was making her way back to her locker room, a hand clamped firmly on her shoulder.
"Look, I have a feeling I'm looking forward to this just as much as you are." Randy Orton stated rather dryly, waiting until the redhead turned before he continued.
"But, whether we want to do this or not. We really have no choice, do we?"
"Thank you Captain Obvious" The diva rolled her eyes, a hand coming to rest on her hip. "You can get your hand off of me anytime now."
Randy rolled his eyes right back but complied with her request. "All I'm saying is, I want that title belt. In fact? I know that title belt belongs around my waist. I am not about to let anyone, especially not you, get in my way. We may not like each other but we might as well make the most of it."
Blue eyes glinted mischievously, darting to the envelope in the red heads hand. "We have a corporate credit card and no boss breathing down our neck. I say, we take advantage of it."
The redhead lifted a brow, hazel eyes masking some of the surprise at that statement. "I never would've thought you had it in you Orton." She smirked, shaking her head in spite of it all.
"But I agree. We may not want to do this, but with my job on the line? I really don't care. Let's just keep the spending reasonable. I'll meet you in the lobby tomorrow morning at check out time." Hazel eyes twinkled briefly in mirth as the redhead quirked a polite smile, briskly walking away.
-----
The diva could feel eyes on her back as she made her way to the locker room, but she would not turn around. Instead, she concentrated more on the fact at hand. For the next four days, the redhead would be at the mercy of twisted management and a young man whom she knew nothing about. As the diva left the locker room, one thought crossed her mind.
'Who are the other victims for this forsaken promotional tour?'
Lita raked a hand through her hair, shouldering her gym bag as she finally exited the arena; her eyes scanning over the near empty parking lot. Stacy had left a note, proclaiming she'd meet her in the parking lot. Hopefully that was the case, and Edge or Chris hadn't tired to drag the blonde out of there. Otherwise? Lita was stuck relying on the oh so un-reliable taxi service. The diva bit her lip, a frown marring her features as she began to walk through the lot, mindful of the arena crew that was leaving. The sound of a door opening caught her attention and as Lita turned her gaze back, her jaw dropped just slighty. There, standing in the double doors leading to the arena -- Randy Orton.
