A/N: So it looks like I'm posting this after all. I wasn't sure about it but I hope you guys like it anyways.

"It matches; I'd wear it if I were a diva."

Mickie looked in the mirror at her new attire and nodded, "I'll wear it tonight. J, you're the best."

The other woman shrugged with a small smile of satisfaction, "I just do my job." Designing clothes for the divas was demanding but knowing that they were pleased with her work was all the gratitude she needed.

Both women walked out of the locker room as Mickie smoothed the material against her legs, "The last girl we had was awful, she didn't know what she was doing and didn't even know what kind of business she was in for weeks! Then again Vince tends to hire the pretty faces."

"With no experience," J finished. "No worries, I know what I'm doing. Good luck tonight."

"Thanks," Mickie walked one way while J, the other.

The WWE diva frowned when she saw that Randy was walking by her. He looked her up and down, repulsed by her. "You look like a slut."

"Fuck you Orton!"

"No thanks," he shook his head. "Those clothes...who the hell did that?"

"He's been saying that for weeks," Mickie explained. "That your clothes are horrible, I'm a slut and all kinds of other things. I don't know how the bastard still has a job; he's pissed off so many."

"Never mind him, you like great and the fans love you for it." J replied while the gears in her head began to turn. She'd go talk to this Randy Orton.

The rest was history.

----

"Oh no Sam, I can't make it out tonight." Randy said into his cell. "You know I have a show tonight and then maybe go celebrate with the boys. It'd take me a few hours to get there anyways." He was trying to come up with any and every possible excuse to not show up tonight. "I'll just sleep in at the hotel tonight and be there in the morning."

Of all the places to be, it had to be St. Louis. Of all nights, Samantha wanted to come. It was as though she had a sixth sense for whenever he came into town. Sweet girl. Which was why she was great for handling everything Randy didn't care about. Other than that, Randy just didn't care anymore. He should've known better than to meet a girl at a bar and marry her.

"I'll see you later, yeah you too, bye." He clicked his phone off. When was the last time he said I love you anyways? Randy couldn't tell you or Samantha or anyone for that matter. His mind wandered over to a group of giggling girls. Some divas, some not. One in particular had caught his eye, the costume designer for the divas. He walked by, glancing in their direction but kept quiet.

That was until a voice caught his attention, Candice Michelle. "Hey Randy, I need a guy's opinion. What do you think of this outfit?" She twirled in a slight movement showing it off.

Stopping, Randy turned fully and raised an eyebrow. This wasn't her design, Juliet's. He knew they were testing him. Her first day he had commented on Mickie's outfit which she had designed. His remark was simple: It looks like shit.

"You might be able to pull that off," Candice then looked back up at her, being smug. "Then again..."

"Fuck you," she scoffed.

"That's the closest you'll ever get to a compliment," he told her then shrugged. "You asked."

Juliet rolled her eyes; she looked tiny compared to the women who wrestled surrounding her. "Of course he'd say something nice because he knows I didn't make it."

"It's not my fault that everything you design is disgusting."

"It is not disgusting," she narrowed her eyes. "You just prefer the clothes to be just like the women you sleep with: cheap and unappreciated."

A few giggles rose from the group. She'd pay for that and her eyes were mischievous just thinking about it.

----

"You feel cheap now?" He grunted into her that night. Long nights often leaving the two worn out.

She moaned moving against him, "You sure you want me to answer that?"

Randy tugged at her hair and she moaned louder staring back at him as the two soon released from one another. He fell to the other side of the bed next to her.

When he turned Juliet over to kiss her, she pushed him back. He sat there confused and she sighed. "We can't do this anymore. I can't do this."

"Why not?" He protested, "You never had a problem with it before."

"Yes well it wasn't until yesterday that you told me you were married." She shook her head. "And you said the tattoo was from a relationship that ended a year ago. It's your wife's, isn't it?"

Mood killer. Randy sighed in frustration partly from being deprived sexually but he wasn't completely sex-crazed. Even someone like Randy Orton needed something more...substantial but now was not the time he could provide an argument given their current situation. "I'm divorcing her, I didn't tell you that."

"Bullshit," she scoffed. "I'll believe it when I see it. Besides I already said I want out."

His eyebrows furrowed, "Why?" He had to ask again but when she didn't respond Randy knew her reasons. "Him? You want to throw away this all for him?

Juliet's jaw unhinged. "Yes, he means something to me Randy and it's more than this. We're nothing but a good couple of nights. That's all."

"Juliet..." He said her name and she cringed slightly. Randy was the only one that called her by her birth name rather than J. She hated it, partly why she loved being with him. If that made any sense at all and it never did.

Standing, she began gathering her tossed clothes, "I should go."

"No," he leaned over pulling her back to the bed, "You should stay."

But the moment she sat down, neither of them had expected what would happen next. Randy's hotel room door opening unexpectedly, Samantha walking in, a scream fest, and a long night of discomfort.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be more than awkward but at least now Juliet could go about her life without Randy interfering. So she would believe but of course, she'd be terribly wrong.