Chapter X: Late Night Coffee Confessions

Hearing his mother's news, Dave jerked down a side road and slammed on his brakes. "What?!"

"She looks like she might be seven months along but you can never tell with those skinny girls. So Maddy, who is buddy-buddy with Gabrielle's aunt, casually walks over and makes a big fuss about her being pregnant. Gabrielle kept skirting her questions about the due date but, really, this baby could be yours," Hea explained.

"God," he muttered, running a hand over his face. He could only stare out the windshield into the fading light.

"Dave, honey, are you alright? I'm sorry I had to tell you this but I thought it would be better coming from me than you running into her or hearing about it from somebody else."

"Thanks, Mom," he said. "I have connections. I'll find out."

For now, Dave could only drive to the airport. He needed to breathe again before he could make some calls. He really couldn't think at this moment. Orianne was passed out on her couch from Orton drugging and assaulting her and he could very well be a father, a fact hidden from him for possibly seven months. He went through the motions of purchasing his ticket and checking in his luggage.

The flight hadn't been called for yet, so Dave dialed the number of a mutual friend, the woman who introduced him to Gabrielle. "Shannon, start talking," he growled.

The girl on the other side of the line paused and then heavily sighed. "If I had known how wrong she would do you, I wouldn't have introduced the two of you." He and Shannon had tried to stay neutral and even managed to remain on speaking terms after the break-up, although Dave had rarely made a point to speak to anyone with any connection to Gabrielle.

"Is the baby mine?" he interrupted, getting down to business.

"She doesn't know. She was six months along last week." Dave did the math in his head and grew sick at his stomach. He had definitely being sleeping with her at the time and so had Kyle Edwards. The baby had to be Kyle's or she wouldn't have broken up with him and married Edwards. He now wondered if maybe he had scared Gabrielle out of their relationship when he didn't want to talk about getting married and with his adamant statement that he didn't want children. But that didn't negate the fact that she had slept around on him anyhow.

"You tell that bitch that I want a paternity test the second that kid's born," he rattled off in anger and hung up the phone on Shannon. If he wasn't on his way to see Orianne because she had run into trouble, he'd be on the plane anyhow because he really needed someone right now.

Orianne's eyes fluttered open in the dim room and she slowly sat up, realizing that she was on the futon in her living room, covered in her old UAB stadium blanket. Her head was throbbing dully and her stomach felt sour. She rubbed her belly trying to ease it and her thumb caught in the hem of the half unbuttoned shirt. Everything came rushing back—even up to her phone call to Dave Batista. She shouldn't have called him but, in her haze, she needed a familiar, soothing voice. The fact that he was Randy's best friend hadn't crossed her mind. She had possibly solved her relationship problems with Dave by that call. He would probably never speak to her again after her accusation. Even if he believed her at first but asked Randy anyhow, the younger wrestler would deny it. Who would he believe? A married woman who had no business spending time alone with him in a hotel room or his best friend of several years now? She might as well get it over with and call Dave back so he could "break it off" with her now instead of on the road.

Her eyes searched for her cellphone as she buttoned up her shirt, her mind having conveniently forgotten Shaun Allen was in her apartment before she lost consciousness. Seeing the glass of water on the coffee table, she remembered the wrestler and reached for the cup before greedily gulping it down.

"You're awake," a man said from her kitchenette. Orianne heard Dave Batista's voice but she knew she was having auditory hallucinations. He was the last thing she thought of when she fell asleep and the first thing she thought of upon waking. The woman turned towards the voice, expecting to see Shaun. She blinked at the man as if trying to determine if he was a mirage. "You want some coffee?" he asked but the woman shook her head in response. "You okay?"

"I think so," she replied and swung her feet off the couch to make room for Dave. "I feel so…drained."

"Feeling queasy at all?"

"No, just really tired."

"When did you get here? Where's Shaun? Wait, how do you know?"

"Well, you fell asleep on me on the phone while Shaun was getting you water and he picked up the phone when he heard me yelling at you after I thought something bad had happened," Dave explained, his hand soothingly rubbing up and down her back. "He told me everything and I asked him to wait on me to get here. You've been asleep about four hours now and I've been here about an hour."

"You didn't have to come," she wearily replied.

"I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you were alright and I need to talk—" he stopped quickly, not wanting to burden her with his problems just yet. "Is there anything I can get you? More water? You want me to run you a bath?"

"No. But I think I want a shower, which I can handle."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call."

She reached out and took his hand in both of hers. "Thank you. You'll never know how much this means."

Dave nodded and she rose from the couch, heading into her bedroom. He shook his head in response to her comment. This wouldn't have happened if he had only put his foot down with Randy, threatening him if he touched her. He was completely to blame for all this, for that complete idiot hurting Orianne. As Heavyweight Champion, he could beat the hell out of Orton and get a warning to never do it again. If he touched Randy anywhere else other than the arena, the police could be called and too many legal issues involved. Come Friday night, he would get his hands on the asshole.

Orianne returned shortly dressed in a t-shirt and pajamas pants with smiley face socks and her hair toweled dry. She curled up on the couch and Dave quietly asked, "You want to talk about it?"

"Uh-huh," she said with a slow nod and Dave instinctively pulled her to his chest, holding her close while she related the details of the night, trying to hold back the tears. "And what's worse," she replied, her voice breaking, "is that I don't know why I'm about to cry. It's not like he raped me. I've fended off worse bartending for frat parties."

"I think it's just all this pent-up emotion that you've been holding in the past six months. You've had no one to talk to. Your sister's in summer classes and your brother's all tied up with the farm. You don't want to upset your parents. Who exactly are you going to talk to about Sloan and all the challenges of this job? It took an incident like this to unleash it."

"Yeah," she sniffled in reply, hurriedly controlling her emotions, and then shifted in his arms to look up at him. "So you believe me? You're not mad at me?"

"There's something I should probably tell you about Randy," Dave said with a sigh, sure she would cry now. By the time he was done relating the less offensive aspects of Orton's stalking, Orianne was livid. He regretted telling her because she had now extracted herself from his arms and was pacing as she worked through her initial anger. She didn't yell at him or about Randy and she didn't throw anything. That was a welcome respite from the way a pissed off Gabrielle would respond. However, she was muttering to herself about how embarrassed and gullible she was. Of course she hadn't believed Randy was interested in her alone but he had put her in the most awkward situation ever. Had she actually let him touch her of her own will, the joke would have been on her. If she considered herself embarrassed now, her humiliation and anger would have been a hundred times this. Little did it matter that she never once considered more than a dinner with him.

"Oh, god," she quietly murmured, pressing a hand to her mouth and stumbling backward from Dave. "You weren't like his spy? Were you supposed to scope me out?"

"No, Orianne," he breathed, rising from the futon. When she only stared at him without moving, he decided on honesty. "He wanted me to find out whatever I could about you and, at that time, I didn't even know you. So, I was curious to know whoever it was that had him so obsessed. I never really got around to that. I stopped and picked you up in the rain because I wanted to." She was trying to digest this all, to believe his every word. It was hard given what she had just learned about Randy Orton. Watching the distress on her face, he did the only thing he knew—keep talking. "Would I tell you all this if it wasn't true? I don't know if we would have even started talking if Randy hadn't wanted to try to add another notch on his bedpost."

"You have a point there."

Dave reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "But I like being with you regardless of whatever crazy notions Randy has in his head."

This was becoming uncomfortably close for her. Orianne was having trouble with her emotions without him touching her. She wished she could see his side of this because, right now, she felt like the air was so heavy with sexual tension that it made her ears stop up. "Thanks," she managed to squeak out, "me too. I'm gonna get another cup of coffee so we can talk about where you're sleeping tonight."

The black-haired woman stepped away from Dave and he removed his hand. Out of her sight, he pulled it close to his body as if he had burned it. "I'd be glad to let you stay here but as you can see," Orianne called from the kitchen, "I don't exactly have anything large enough for you to sleep on." Dave heard her but he wasn't listening. He was trying his damnedest to figure out what was going on inside of him. He wished he could see her side of this. For him, the gaze and the touch they shared were electrifying. He had no other way to describe it. "There's a very good hotel about two blocks away or so I'm told. Olivia and Orrin stayed there a few weeks back," she continued, oblivious to the war waging within him. He wanted to know why he was feeling this intense desire for a woman when he had sworn them off and a married woman at that. Even if he decided to give in and be with another woman, it couldn't be Orianne. It can never be Orianne, he said to himself again to reiterate the point. "Orrin's probably two inches shorter than you and he said the beds were really good but that you had to request a long one," she said, handing him a cup of coffee.

Dave looked up at her with a gaze like a possum's when caught in the headlights of a car. His brain finally caught up with the words he had heard and he nodded. With what had transpired, he thought that maybe it was best if he spent the night at the hotel despite the fact that he could curl up on the futon and still be very comfortable. Thinking about another lonely night in a hotel room, he wasn't sure he could do it without talking to someone about the disturbing phone call from his mother earlier in the evening. He could hardly hold it in waiting for Orianne to wake up but, when she did, what happened to her overrode his problems at that moment. While he tried to comfort her, the call was niggling at the back of his mind. However, she was probably too tired to listen since she needed coffee just to talk about him staying in a hotel but he decided to test her anyhow. "I bet you're too tired to come with me and get me checked in. If you'll give me an idea about how to get there, I'll be fine."

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm actually a little wired. The coffee was just to have something to drink," she replied, holding the cup up. Dave paused for a moment, trying to come up with a way to broach the subject. He drained the rest of the mug, which was still over half full. "You need any more?" Orianne asked.

"No, thank you," he answered and passed the cup into her outstretched hand.

The woman carried it into the kitchen and turned around to come back but stopped. Dave's head was down, his shoulders were hunched, and his hands dangled between his legs where his forearms were propped on his knees. She didn't know him inside and out, despite the feeling they had been close friends for a long time. Yet, she did know something was wrong and she suddenly remembered him cutting off a statement he had begun—"I need to talk…" Orianne refilled the coffee cup anyhow and brought it back to him. "Something's wrong," she said and held out the mug.

"How did you know?"

"I don't know. Call it woman's intuition or something. Let me return the favor. Start talking." She settled on the couch, turning sideways to face Dave and curling her legs under her.

"Gabrielle's pregnant," he simply stated and waited for her face to twist up in repulsion. He suddenly felt like she would reject him because his ex-girlfriend might be pregnant with his child.

"And you think it's yours?"

"See, that's it. I don't know. She was sleeping around on me at the same time and it could be her husband's."

Orianne nodded and replied, "Let's pretend for a moment that you find out that without a shadow of a doubt that her baby is Kyle's. Go there in your mind and tell me how you'd feel if that was true."

"Relieved," he sighed. "I don't want children. I'm not cut out to be a father and I've always known that. I completely believe that some people are never meant to be parents. Do you know what I mean?"

"More than you'll ever know," she replied under her breath and nodded.

"Mom always said that'll change after I have my own. I'm not taking any chances! I'm too self-centered and I like it that way. Does that make any sense?"

Her eyes gazed behind him, as if she were suddenly distant, and she whispered, "You want to be able to pick up at a moment's notice, to not have to defend your position of discipline, to not spend sleepless nights wondering if you're bringing them up right or worse, when they're older, wonder where they are and what they're doing. When their heart breaks, your heart breaks. When the world hurts them, there's nothing you can do to change the world."

"Yes," he breathed. "You feel the same way?"

"Uh-huh," she quietly replied and then her eyes came back into focus. "I'm not cut out to be a mother either. I'm too selfish."

"You are not selfish. You give too much of yourself as it is."

"No, I am selfish. I don't want the responsibility of another person. I can't even take care of a dog."

"That's totally it. I just don't know how much responsibility I'm going to have if this baby is mine," he replied, gesturing at her as she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You have two or three options as I see it. Gabrielle obviously doesn't want you in this baby's life or she would have said something. So, you can let it go and not get a paternity test but then live your life wondering. If you get the test and the baby is yours, you can insist on being in its life…or let Gabrielle choose how much she wants you in their lives, if she does. But just remember, if you get the test and the baby's yours, Gabrielle can sue you for child support."

"Yeah, I know," he answered but child support wasn't a problem on his salary. Orianne opened her mouth to keep discussing his options but clamped it shut in embarrassment as she realized that he probably knew everything she had just explained. "I was only agreeing with you," he quickly added, seeing her flushed cheeks. He wanted to say more when her cheeks grew darker but was afraid it would only continue to embarrass her. So, he decided to say nothing.

The two sat in silence for a few moments while Dave agonized over getting out the rest of his fears. He never shared his heart with someone like this before. Yeah, he had been characterized as a metrosexual and, because of that, many women sought him thinking that he was as emotional and open as them. That was hardly true. "I'm scared I pushed her away. I told her over and over that I wasn't ready to get married and I thought she was fine with it."

Orianne nodded her head as she recalled their conversation that night in the parking deck when they were supposed to be seeing a movie together. She had been blown away that a guy like him was so wary of marriage. Other than cheating on him, she really didn't blame Gabrielle for leaving him after five years. What surprised her was that Dave stuck with the woman to begin with. She couldn't believe that he was so head over heels for her and not see what an incredible bitch she was. From what Dave had told her, she had gathered that the former Miss Cherry Blossom was nothing short of an arrogant, spoiled priss. She was accustomed to her life as a model and demanded she be treated like she was Tyra Banks or Claudia Schiffer. If he wasn't already scared of marriage before meeting Gabrielle, Orianne would believe that it was Dave's subconscious realizing that he didn't need to be married to the woman in the first place. "She wasn't but that didn't stop her from getting pregnant," Orianne snapped, letting her rumination take over.

"I don't think she did it intentionally. But what if she married Kyle because she knows how I feel and was tired of waiting. She found out she was pregnant, knew I didn't want to get married yet, and picked up with him. What if I scared her away?"

"Dave, can I be candid with you?" she abruptly asked and he nodded. "The fact that she cheated on you has nothing to do with her being scared. She cheated on you! You wouldn't be in this mess if she hadn't cheated."

"But what if…"

"Dave," she interrupted, "the damage has been done and there can be no 'what ifs' about her marrying Kyle. The question comes down to if or how much you want to be in this baby's life."

He nodded again, gazing down at his hands. She was right and he hated to admit it. "What would you do?"

"Me? I, uh…it's kinda hard for me to be giving you any advice because I'm a woman. I don't know if I could see it from your point of view. Maybe you should just ask what Gabrielle wants. If you don't want the baby and she doesn't want you involved, then that might answer your question."

"I guess there's no point in asking you if you could turn away from a child knowing it's yours."

"That's a harder question to answer and one I hope to never have to face. I'll have had a nine month head start on you th—" A large yawn cut off the rest of her reply.

Dave looked up for a clock and noticed the early dawn light coming around the edges of the blinds. "I've kept you up all night. Shame on me."

"I know where my bed is. Would you prefer to crash on my couch or me start breakf—" Another yawn interrupted her words but was met with a yawn from Dave.

The wrestler chuckled and replied, "I think I'll just park it here if you don't mind."

Orianne nodded and responded, "I'll get you a pillow and a blanket." Dave had the futon laid down by the time she was back and he took the linens from her despite her protest to make up the bed for him. The sexual tension had long passed when they started discussing his situation with Gabrielle and the photographer put a hand on his arm and pulled him down to her. "Thank you for coming," she whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks for listening," he replied and kissed her on the top of the head.

"Good night," they both quietly said to each other and then laughed before each settled in their own bed for the few remaining hours of the morning.

Orianne's flight out of Stamford to the next house show didn't leave until late Thursday evening, giving the two of them enough time to catch up on some sleep before having to leave for the airport. Dave found a seat on her flight, one that was relatively empty. As much as she wanted to spend time with him, she did not want to board this plane with him. Stamford's metal detectors hated her. She could find no way of getting through security without him, so she marched her way up to line, hoping that a security officer that knew her and her problem would be waiting at the end.

The officer's faces were not new but this was the first time Orianne had been in their line. She answered 'yes' to their questions regarding emptying her pockets and if she was wearing a belt. They hadn't given her time to explain. They ran the wand over her, a familiar action for her, even though unwanted. The alarm sounded over her left leg and they escorted her aside. Orianne noticed that Dave had stepped through the detector with no problem and seemed to be concerned about her. She tried to position herself with her right to him but the officers would have nothing of it when they made her pull up her pants leg and then patted down her left hip while she hastily explained the accident. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Dave hurriedly glance away. The guards were finally satisfied and released her.

Orianne said nothing and neither did Dave. They both acted as if he had not seen the ugly slash of a scar rising up her from ankle and one across her knee. Dave was angry at whatever had happened to her and wanted to pound on something. However, he realized that if she wanted him to know, she would have told him. What bothered him the most was that she didn't trust him enough to let her guard down around him. Orianne was thinking about how Dave had already accused Sloan of abusing her based on words. He would probably be thinking the same thing despite her reassurance her husband had never done so. However, he would probably be the only person who wouldn't respond in the ways that made her keep the accident a secret. She knew he had already noticed the limp because of the way he treated her the first night they met in the rain but he had acted as if nothing was ever wrong. Yet, what difference did it make if he did know. She had only known him for three months and he had managed to discover her little secret desire of being a diva. However, they had a certain kind of trust between them. He had shared thoughts and feelings with her that no man would usually tell another woman. She herself had said some things that not even her husband knew about. Orianne utterly trusted Dave and the woman couldn't explain why. She wanted to call it a connection but that was getting to close to a relationship beyond friends.

Disembarking from the plane, Batista turned on his cell phone to check his messages. For the second time that day, Randy Orton had called him and left a message. He wasn't even slightly interested in what the younger wrestler had to say. However, Dave had a few things to say to him. He had kept his cool over the whole situation for Orianne's sake but the closer the time came to arrive at arena, the more his blood pressure started to rise. He could already feel his knuckles cracking against Orton's jaw.

Dave managed to stay calm as he forced himself to keep a steady, slow pace as he made his way to the locker room, making a point to speak with anyone who stopped him. Pushing open the steel door, he sighted Orton and tossed his own bags aside.

"Dude, why haven't you called me back?" Randy began but Batista advanced on him. In two long strides, he was within reach of the smaller man and swung out, connecting with the other's face. Orton was caught off guard and tumbled backward onto the floor. Dave leaned over him and punched him in the chest.

Satisfied with the whoosh of air rushing out of his lungs, Batista ground out, "We're going to talk and not here." He said the last for the benefit of the other shocked wrestlers who had finally gathered round to pull the two apart if the fight continued. He grabbed a fistful of Orton's t-shirt and hauled him up, dragging him towards the door. Randy, unable to catch his breath, could do nothing but comply as Batista escorted him towards a staff bathroom that was thankfully empty. The Champion threw him inside and then turned the deadbolt into place.

"Did you really think you were gonna rape her to get back at Cara and get away with it?" With his hand on his chest, Randy could only shake his head vigorously in response to Dave's question. "Then what exactly did you think?"

"I ca…called you…left voice…mails."

Seeing as how Orton was having trouble talking, Dave pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his voicemail. Dave, I did something kinda stupid. I need you to call me back. Then, Dave, really need to talk to you. I had dinner with Orianne and gave her one of my prescription migraine pills. I didn't mean any harm but I didn't know she was going to have alcohol on top of it. The last voicemail, Randy pleaded for Dave to call him. Dave, I'm afraid Orianne's going to bring charges against me or something. Her neighbor saw it all and busted the door down. What do you think I should do?

Batista flipped his phone shut and placed it back in his pants pocket. "So tell me why you put your hands on her and physically hauled her into her apartment while she was screaming?"

Randy was breathing easier and replied, "Because she was screaming. The whole hall was going to come out and think that I was raping her. I just thought I'd get her inside and then try to calm her down. Did she accuse me of drugging her? How do you know about this?"

"Don't change the subject. Why did you put your hands all over her, try to undress her when she couldn't even think straight?"

"I really didn't know how much affect the pill had on her. She looked like she was getting a migraine and then I just thought she'd be more willing if I tried to turn her on or something if she took something to loosen her up."

"Randy, I am pissed at you for the migraine pill. You know better than to give someone a prescription. To begin with, I was going to kill you but, now, I'm just pissed."

"Why exactly do you care?" Orton asked accusingly.

TBC…