A/N: Warning, smut ahead. If you don't like the naughty adult fun times type of stuff then skip this part.

"Good show tonight, yeah?" Peyton nodded to Trinity, Naomi of the Funkadactyls.

"Yeah, I wish creative would get their heads out of their asses though. Last week I come out, triumphant return and all that, then, a random segment with the Shield. Why? Tonight, a what the fuck staredown with Bray Wyatt then our match. Which, you killed it tonight girl." Peyton leaned over the table, tapping her bottle against Trinity's glass. "There's just so much talent in the division right now, they need to focus and give us some direction."

"Preach it sister!" Brie agreed.

The group of women sat around the table, drinking and laughing. Peyton was working on her fifth beer in just under two hours. "Girl, you looking to get slammed tonight?" Jimmy…or Jey, she wasn't sure which, motioned to her collection of empty bottles.

"Yes Jimmy," she took a guess at the twins name, "yes, I am."

"I'm Jey."

"Oops. Sorry. I can't really tell you two apart with your clothes on."

Nikki fell over laughing, "Peyton!"

"What?" Peyton's eyes went wide when she realized what she'd said, "Oh…OH! I didn't mean…it's just…they're identical…the tattoos. It's the sleeves! That's how I've always been able to tell. Ok, I'm leaving now." Peyton stood, cheeks pink from the combination of alcohol and embarrassment, and walked a few tables down and fell into the empty seat beside Joe.

"What," he gestured over the the table she'd just left as Jimmy and Jey pointed at her and rolled the sleeves on their right arm up, "was that about?"

"I think I may have inadvertently innuendoized something about seeing those two naked. I swear, it just all came out wrong."

Colby stared across the table, "Innuendoized?"

"Yes. It's a word. Look it up."

"Hey darlin," Peyton watched as Jon reached out, grabbing at the waitress, "bring us a bottle of Jack and a shot glass." He winked, flashing his dimples at her. "You bet handsome."

"You ready to get this party started?" He turned to Peyton.

"I should warn you, I have a restraining order against Jack Daniels. He is not my friend. That bastard has fucked me hard more than once and it has never been a pleasurable experience."

"Well then, I guess we'll have to make tonight a real pleasurable experience." He drawled out, leaning across Joe to her. "Ya know, to redeem Jack's reputation and all."

Joe groaned and rolled his eyes. "And, on that lame ass note, I'm out before I get suckered in to babysitting and carrying any of your drunk asses around."

"Night Joe, party pooper. But, get some rest. You need it…you're starting to look haggard as hell big man." Peyton looked up at Joe, smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes.

"Save it for someone else doll. You've cut me. Cut me deep."

The waitress reappeared, bottle and shot glasses. "So you don't have to share a glass."

"We don't mind sharing, do we?"

Peyton shook her head, grinning at him, then turning to the waitress. "Nope."

"Claud! Dude, come. Sit. Please." Colby begged as Antonio Cesaro walked past, "Seriously, please don't leave me alone with these two. I fear for my safey and sanity."

"Here, take my seat." Jon stood and sat back in Joe's abandoned chair, next to Peyton. "You don't wanna be too close to her. I hear she bites."

Claudio looked at the table, "Whiskey shots? I'm in." He stuck his hand out to Peyton, "Claudio. We've not officially met."

Peyton nodded to the bald man, "Yeah, I'm not gonna be able to pronounce that in about 45 minutes. I can barely pronounce it now. So, good to meet ya, Tony. Alright boys, shot time!" Twisting the top off, she filled each shot glass, passing one to each of the men at the table, and picked one up for herself. "To…"

"New experiences." Jon chimed in, clinking shot glasses and downing his shot.

Peyton swallowed her drink, the drink burning a trail down her throat. "Ugh." She turned and smacked Jon on the arm. "And, I do not bite. Much. At least not without a good reason."

After a few shots and being joined by a few more people from the roster, Colby leaned over, slurring slightly, "You sure you can keep up, Peyt? Don't want you gettin' in over your head with the booze."

"Are you fucking serious? I use to hang with Raven and Sandman…on a regular basis. Jimmy can pretty much out drink anyone and well, Scotty went and got sober, but before that…dude, seriously, can I keep up? Buckle up, Fido. You'll be out long before I am."

Jon leaned over, tugging on Peyton's hair, "I swear. You're fucking perfect." He laughed, "It's like looking in a mirror, but you have better tits."

Randy leaned against the bar, watching Peyton slam back each shot. He'd lost count of how many she'd had. He'd seen the looks, the subtle little touches between her and Jon. How their seats kept getting closer and how his hand was resting on the arm of his chair, fingers just above her knee. He'd watched as she'd move her leg just a little with each shot, his fingers brushing against her thigh. He saw how with each shot their flirting got more and more blatant.

Randy stood there, feeling like someone watching their house burn. He wanted to run in and salvage whatever he could, but the best thing was to wait for the smoke to clear and see what was left. He knew he had to give her time to cool down from earlier, but he also knew he couldn't give her too much time. She could have her fun tonight, but he had no doubt if the flirting between she and Jon did go further, he'd be in her head. The thought of seeing her with someone else made him nauseous. He wanted to go yank that prick up by his throat and break every bone in his body that he'd touched Peyton with, jab his eyes out of their sockets and feed them to him. But, he knew a fighter when he saw one, and Jon was a fighter. Randy knew better than to underestimate him. He really didn't have anything against the kid, he just happen to have set his sights on the wrong woman. Randy couldn't blame him, given the circumstances; he'd be doing the exact same thing.

Peyton knew Randy was there. Everyone knew he was there. The second he walked in the place started to buzz with electricity. He was impossible not to notice. She looked over at Jon. They were very similar. Both so focused on their careers, and people seemed to be drawn to both of them. Hell, she knew she was. They were both gorgeous. Long, lean, muscular bodies. Both laced with pure dangerous sex appeal. They commanded attention from everyone around them. Jon was more laid back, more relaxed but could flash that hard intensity in a second. Randy always seemed more tense, more focused. Both never seemed to fully let their guards down. Both men were definitely good with the women and knew how to get what they wanted.

"Drink up." Jon's voice snapped Peyton back to the present.

Peyton leaned forward, swallowing the liquid in one gulp, slamming the glass down and leaning back in her seat, shifting her leg again to the left. She shivered when she felt Jon's fingertips skim across her thigh.

"Cold?" Jon leaned over, his hand slipped off the armrest, laying fully on her inner thigh, just above her knee.

"Not even a little bit."

They sat there for a few seconds, eyes locked. Peyton tilted her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder as Jon's eyes flicked from her eyes down to her mouth, then back to her eyes. Jon's fingers twitched on her skin, her eyes shifted to his hand, then moved back up his arm to his neck, watching the veins bulge slightly.

"Ever do a Vegas shot?" Jon asked.

"Never heard of such a creature."

Jon reached out, grabbed the near empty bottle off the table and took a big long swig, never breaking eye contact. He leaned over, hand sliding a little further up her leg. He grabbed the side of her face and pulled her to meet him halfway over their two chairs. Jon brushed his lips over hers, gently tugging her chin down, opening her mouth, letting the warm liquid he'd been holding in his mouth pour in to hers. His tongue swept into her mouth, following the liquid that she was swallowing down. Peyton's head leaned against his hand. Jon stood from his chair and leaned over her, not breaking their kiss, he moved the hand from her thigh to the arm of her chair. He tilted Peyton's head back, deepening the kiss. Somewhere behind them she heard Colby's voice, "And here comes round 2." Peyton's hand inched up Jon's arm, nails lightly scraping along his skin.

Jon suddenly stopped, breaking the kiss. "Get your shit. We're leaving." Peyton stood, grabbing her phone from the table and stuffing it in her back pocket. She reached forward, hooked a finger in his belt loop and pulled him toward the exit.

Jon glanced over when they passed the bar where Randy had planted himself earlier in the day. The chair was empty.

Randy ran his hands over his face. This was not his fucking night. He couldn't get away from their drunken public displays. Now, here they were, standing at the elevator, no doubt what they were on their way to do. Peyton had a finger slid in Jon's belt loop, pulling him behind her. As soon as they stopped and she hit the button, Randy watched as Jon spun her around, grabbing at her face, planting his mouth on hers. Randy fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Peyton, it would take a lot more than a little kiss to get her.

Peyton had one hand still at his hip, finger in his belt loop, the other hand in his hair. She could feel herself melting against him. Jon's hands resting on her backside, keeping her upright and pressed flush against him.

"Could you hurry up?" Randy yelled over at the desk clerk who was trying to recode his key card. He turned back to the elevator. It was like watching a wreck, he shouldn't watch, damn sure didn't want to, but he couldn't not watch. Then he saw it, Peyton's hand moving from his belt loop and twisting his shirt around her fingers. Randy slammed his fist on the counter. "KEY! NOW!"

Peyton laughed against Jon's neck when he grabbed at the back of her thighs, picking her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and stepping on to the elevator. He reached over, pushing at the button for her floor. He buried his face in her neck, "I can't wait to make you beg." Peyton leaned back, eyes dilated and filled with lust, "I ain't never begged for anything." A smirk spread across Jon's face, "Then someone wasn't doing their job right. But there's a first time for everything." The doors dinged and slid open. Jon carried Peyton down the hall, stopping at her room. Peyton slid the key card into the slot behind her, pushing on the door handle and letting them fall into the room.

Jon sat Peyton on the floor, and placed the 'Do Not Disturb' hanger on the outside of the door. She watched when he turned back to her, head cocked to the side, eyes running over her body, tongue snaking out, licking his bottom lip. "It's not too late to back down." Peyton looked at Jon and ripped her shirt over her head. "Not happening."

Jon watched when she tossed her bra to the side, challenging him. He kicked his feet, boots flying to the side and grabbed the collar of his shirt, ripping it over his head.

Peyton drank in his body, seeing it up close for the first time. "I have got to pull some strings and get y'all wearing less gear in the ring." She jumped, startled slightly when he yanked at the cotton of her shorts, pulling them down her legs, exposing her. Taking a step back, he looked at her and smiled. "Planning ahead?" Peyton shrugged, "Maybe."

In an instant Jon was stripped down and on her. Mouths crashing against each other, hands grabbing and pawing at the others flesh. He scooped her back up, legs around his waist and slammed up into her. He walked to the bed and fell forward, pinning her beneath him. He could feel Peyton's nails digging into his shoulders each time he powered in to her. His name fell out of her mouth, her hips bouncing up to meet his thrusts. Reaching back he pulled her legs higher, then bent lower sucking and biting at her neck, tugging a fistful of her hair. Peyton drug her nails over his back and down his arms, clutching at them wildly. "C'mon baby, I know you want to." He purred against her ear.

Peyton bit down on her lip, tasting the copper of her own blood. "Fuck!" She yelled out, losing herself around him "Jon please! Fuck!" He snapped into her, watching her come undone beneath him. Peyton felt him explode, moaning deep against her neck. "Son of a bitch." He breathed out, falling on top of her, both fully spent. "I hope you don't expect me to move for a few minutes." He laid, sprawled on top of Peyton, heavy. "I'm good. I don't think I can feel my legs right now anyway."

They laid in silence for a few minutes, letting their breaths calm, "You ok?" Jon rolled off Peyton, looking at her, his hair falling all over his face.

Peyton nodded, "Sex hair looks good on you."

"Of course it does. I make everything look good."

Peyton laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Hey," Jon yawned and stretched his arms, tucking one under Peyton's neck. "What's that?" He touched the inside of her thigh, just noticing the ink there.

Peyton stretched her leg out, showing him the lettering. "That has got to be the sexiest fucking thing I've seen in a long ass time." His finger traced over the lettering running down the inside of her left thigh, "Wish you were here."

"So, Vegas shot? Really? You totally made that up." She changed the subject, pulling the covers over them.

Jon shrugged, "Worked though, didn't it?"