John Morrison's face has a hint of satisfaction plastered upon it, after giving the news to Leslie and that stupid CM Punk about the young woman's contract. Punk's face had a look of anger upon it, while Leslie's had sadness and a hint of fear in her features. His plan was setting into action, and he wanted to make sure to win the Money in the Bank latter match, only six days away form the Monday night. He was going to make CM Punk look like a fool out there, as the bruttnet haired man raised the precious briefcase in the air, as he won the match. Stepping up the rented car that his partner, The Miz, was sitting in he slid open the door and slammed it shut behind him as he sat in the driver's seat.

The sounds of Bullet for my Valentine echoed through out the car, and the fedora wearing champion was rocking out in the passer seat. With a shake of his head, Morrison pulled out of the small restaurant parking lot, as his friend sung along to the music at the top of his lungs, like a goof ball. Morrison made his way back to the hotel, and went over parts of his plan in his head.

As Punk let Leslie bury her face in his shoulder, he rubbed her soft back through the material of the Nirvana tank she was wearing. He whispered words of comfort into her ear, which only made her scoot closer to him. The Blonde waitress, Clara, made her way over a look of sympathy on her face as she handed the Chicago native the bill for their drinks. 'Thank you' mouthed Punk, as Leslie scooted her chair back to its oringal place, across from him. Both of them got up, Leslie grabbed her denim jacket as Punk fished a few dollar bills out of his pants leaving Clara a tip as well as the bill.

As they walked out into the cool night air, Punk sighed and whispered "Ow..." as he could imagine the feeling of Raven DDT'd his face into a steel chair many times, for letting Morrison and Miz take Leslie as their valet. Punk would have to go talk to Eastra, to negotiate her contract yet again, so she could valet him. "What's wrong?" Leslie's soft voice asked him, bringing him out of his thoughts. "What?" Punk asked, slightly confused at her question "Nothing's wrong" He continued. "But you said ow..." The Seattle native politely pointed out to the straight edge man.

"Oh...It's nothing. I just bit my tongue." He casually lied, though he didn't want to. Her deep green eyes looked at him with a pang of sadness in them, which they maintained eye contact for a few seconds, before her green orbs gaze shot to the ground. Not realizing where she was, Leslie ran right into their own rental car, a corvette, and fell on her butt with a soft "oof" escaping from her lips. "Now it's my turn to ask, you ok?" Punk said jokingly, and held out his hand for Leslie to pull herself up. A memory came to him, when the two had first met on TNA, Punk knocking her over.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking." She murmured, taking his hand and pulling herself up. Both opened the car doors and slid inside. "Thanks for the drink Punk." Leslie said quietly, looking at her pale soft hands. "No prob Les. Anytime." Replied Punk as he drove slowly back to the hotel, the car ride filled with silence. Arriving in the hotel parking lot, the two looked at each other, both still quiet. Neither wanting to break the silence. Opening his door, Punk stepped out into the chilly air and walked around the car. Planning to act like a gentleman, he opened the car's door for his ruby haired friend, who gave him a nod of thanks as she stepped out and to his side.

"How about I take you too your room?" The Chicago native offered as they walked into the hotel lobby, offering his arm out to Leslie. "If you want to, you really don't have to Punker." The Seattle woman responded, even though she wrapped her arm through his, the top of her head was just about his eye level making her a few inches shorter then him. Both stepped into the elvevaor, holding The Ledgend Jim Duggan, and The Extremist Jeff Hardy. Leslie gave a polite nod to both, with Jim nodding back with a soft smile, and Hardy throwing her his guns hand signs. Punk stared straight ahead as the elevator acsended to theirs floors. Once it stopped at the fifth, the doors opened allowing Punk and Leslie to step out.

"Bye Jim. Bye Jeff." Leslie called as the doors closed and she was pulled along by Punk. "What's got into you?" She asked, confused to why her best friend would be acting like this. "Nothing, other then the fact that both have been suspended for drugs, Les. Mostly Hardy." Punk snapped at her, and then quickly came to his scenese after the fallen look on her face. "I'm sorry Leslie..." He murmured as they stepped in front of her room door, and he looked down at his shoes, not able to look her in the eye.

Thinking she would yell at him for being selfish about who she was haning out with, but insted felt her arms embrace him and her voice wispering "It's alright. Thanks for Walking me here." and Leslie pullled away before he had the chance to wrap his arms around her before she entered her room.

--

Flopping down on the comfy hotel mattress, Leslie ran her fingers through her dyed hair, her other hand searched in her pockets for her cell phone. She needed to talk to Haley and Mickie about this Miz and Morrison situation and badly. After finding the purple razor phone in her jacket pockets, she dialed a number very familar, and was met with the groggy voice of the number one contender for Beth Phoenix's title, Haley. "Yes Leslie?" Haley's voice was thick with sleep as her friend Leslie had called her as she had just fallen to sleep. "I'm sorry Haley but I need girl talk time." Leslie admitted shyly, not really ever before having something really big to girl talk about with her two girl bestfriends, she usually went to Punk.

"Shoot. Go for it." The Boston native yawned, waiting for her friend to tell her what was up.

"Well, Morrison came up while me and Punk were catching up and said that I'm forced to valet him, so now I'm being whiney because I hate the creep and I also don't like his creppy little friend Miz." Leslie ranted pausing to only take a breath before contenuiing "And Punk got snappy at me because I was smiling and watching Jim Duggan and Jeff Hardy. He can be so...you know...spazzy at times."

"I see..." The brunnette mused, yawning once again "Well...Talk to Estrada, and ask to valet Punk. I've got to get some sleep Leslie."

Click.

Leslie opened her mouth to protest, but was met with dial tone. "Maybe Mickie can help." She said softly to herself, dialling the psycho diva's number, only to get the same results she had gotten form Haley. "Come on..." She groaned sitting up. Her feet touched the carpet as she made her way to her suitcase, pulling out her pajamas and her showering supplies. Making her way to the shower, Leslie ran a hand through her hair, wonering how to cope with the whole situation. Stripping off her clothes, Leslie stood under the warm heat of the water, and sighed. 'Maybe tommrow will get better' she though to herself as she lathered her peach shampoo on her hair.

Shorty update

I couldn't sleep so yeah..