Warning: this chapter contains sexual content, this fic is rated M for mature.

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News spread quickly around the arena that Orton was on a bender. Randy's eyes could not find a pair that met them without fear, and everywhere he looked was dressed in shades of red. Daniel wasn't a quick walker, and Randy easily caught up to him and threw him against the brick wall.

"Who told you?"

Randy had easily knocked the wind out of the much smaller man, but even as he sputtered and attempted to gain breath through his still sore abdomen, Randy pressed on him hard.

"Speak or be killed where you stand, you goat-faced son of a-"

Hyper-aware Randy stopped when he saw The Miz round the corner, and before the Miz could even ask if there was a problem, Randy growled deeply at him.

"Right… I'm just going to turn around and pretend I never saw this…"

"It's him you want, he told me," Daniel managed to sputter out, feeling Randy's weight leave him immediately. The Miz broke into a run but he wasn't any match for an angry bull like Orton. Miz had managed to round the corner he'd come from when Randy had the cement ground spinning toward him. Randy had a knee in the small of Miz's back, holding the smaller man down with ease.

"I'll give you the choice, Mikey. Open casket, or cremation?" Randy growled at him.

"Thank you kindly for the option, but I've got a show to commentate in about three and a half minutes and if-"

Randy pushed Miz's head against the cement floor, eyeing the surrounding technicians staring at them in horror carefully. No heroes in this group. No one was going to get in his way.

"You have nothing to do and nowhere to go, isn't that right folks?" Randy locked eyes with each stagehand, who either nodded or quickly disappeared.

"Now, if I didn't know any better, Mikey; I'd say that you thought you were really going to get away with fucking with my family. Do you think you can fuck with my sister's life, Mikey? Do you?"

"I… cannot… fucking breathe!" Miz shouted, trying to scramble up but couldn't shake Randy; who easily picked Miz up by the back of his shirt and tossed him against a table of wires.

"Breathe, while you still have the opportunity."

"Listen, Randal, you and I both know secrets don't make friends. It's not my fault your sister didn't tell Daniel she had a kid, alright? Secrets don't stay secrets. And you can't shoot the messenger, it's a fact. And even then, I'm not the messenger! I'm not! I'm just the liaison; the man you're looking for is in my dressing room," Miz said, pleaded, begged.

Randy thought on his words for moment. Miz was never an honest man unless his health was at stake. And if need be, Randy knew where Miz would be for the next hour.

This outfit was not made to be worn by anyone outside of a Playboy modeling shoot, Adaen thought as she looked in the mirror. Some excuse for a striped halter bikini top and shorts that barely covered her bottom; if anyone could tell she was a referee and not just one of those ring girls that hold up Round 1 signs before fights, she'd color herself impressed.

She pulled her hair around her shoulders. At least it was long enough to cover some of her up. This night was turning out to be a worse hell than she'd previously thought, and to top it off someone else was knocking at her door again. She attempted to ignore it, hoping they'd get the hint; but she knew it wouldn't happen when the Irishman began to speak.

"Adaen, ya'd best be getting' a hold of yer brother; he's on a bit of a rampage, and I don't t'ink Leo's gon' ta be appreciatin' all the broken t'ings and people he's been leavin' in his wake," he said through the door. Adaen shook her head, moving to it slowly and unlocking it. Sheamus stepped it, closing it quickly behind him.

"Listen, Adaen, I just watched your brother literally break a damn door off its hinges, and-"

He stopped talking when he really looked at her.

"Wow… I'm sorry; I didn't know ya weren't decent."

She laughed bitterly.

"This is my ring attire for tonight, courtesy of our boss. And Randy will wear himself down eventually, or find whomever he's searching for and put their blood on his hands. Don't worry, it's not you," she added, turning to the mirror and trying to adjust her attire. It wasn't going to be easy going out there looking like this.

"What's going on, exactly? All I've picked up is he got a hold of Danny. Did he do something?"

Adaen shook her head, looking at him through the mirror behind her. He was in his ring gear, wearing his Brogue Kick Hooligans shirt; his face showed such genuine concern.

"I'm surprised that it's not flying around as quickly as my brother is," she answered, turning to look at him. He seemed to be having difficulty locking eyes with her.

"You mean about yer son," Sheamus replied quietly, putting his hands on his hips and looking away from her.

"I don't have a son, Sheamus. The problem in nobody seems to care for the story behind Cassidy. I… didn't ask for it to happen. I had a miscarriage. I never had a son. I just know that I would have, and I had decided to name him Cassidy. Because he was real. Does Daniel care about that? No. Do you? Probably not. But that's the fucking truth," she stepped over the bench and looked him in the eye, hers were watering despite her best efforts to keep them from it. It broke his heart to see that strong face turning to tears. And when he reached out and put his arms around her, she took to him easily.

"It matters to me, love. The truth matters to me," he whispered against the top of her head, taking in her pleasant scent as he held her tightly. She let the tears fall, ones that had fallen so many times for the same reason. Usually she was in the arms of her brother or alone in a quiet hotel room. But here she was in the arms of Sheamus, the man she'd had nothing but contempt for the last few weeks; and his arms wrapped tightly around her was a different comfort than she was accustomed to. Kissing him had always been in the back of her mind, how he'd brushed lips with her without any real explanation; how for whatever reason he had feelings for her and she'd crushed them by deciding to go with Daniel. She felt bad for him, guilty because he'd been nice to her and she'd not only hurt his feelings but injured him in the ring. She'd beaten him, injured his pride and threatened his reputation and still he was here with her despite it all. Maybe it was the sudden vulnerability she felt, maybe she was just overwhelmed from all that had happened; but the in-between didn't exist and her legs were wrapped around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall of her locker room, kissing her fervently. His shoulder was killing him but he did not give a damn, her hair fell across his face smelling so sweetly it made him want her right then and there; she could hardly breathe but didn't want to turn away. When they couldn't take it anymore, they pulled back and locked eyes with each other.

"What are we doing?" Sheamus asked, surveying their circumstances. Adaen was breathing heavily, pushing her hair back from between them.

"I don't care, just don't stop," she managed, pulling him in again by lacing her hands behind his neck. He obliged, of course he did; because this was the woman he wanted and he finally had her. He felt the nudge of his trunks coming down across his waist, whether it was her intention or not it spiked his blood to the point of no return. He pulled her from the wall and laid her down gently on the long bench beside her locker. He took a quick glance at the door, assuring himself it was locked and hopefully not as weak as the one he'd watched Randy tear down earlier. At the moment, Randy Orton didn't matter to him. Daniel Bryan and the impending bout they were to have in… when was he scheduled? It didn't matter, because those big beautiful eyes were staring expectantly at him, more naked than she was before he'd looked away; he was losing track of the world around him outside of her. It seemed dangerous but euphoria had set in and her skin was so damn soft he had to touch every inch of it. Where his hands traced his lips followed and she tried her best to keep her balance on that narrow bench and her voice down. And when he finally couldn't take it anymore his trunks were off as fast as he'd put them on and he put himself inside her. He studied her every move, lost in her and the way her hair fell across the bench and nearly touched the floor when she moved her head. The way her eyes closed and opened with his movements, and the way they locked directly on his when she whispered to him. She was the most perfect thing he'd ever seen, and to know it was he who was writing the pleasure drawn on her perfect face made his muscles tense and focus solely on her benefit. It felt as though they'd been this way forever, whispering his name and tugging at the shirt he'd neglected to remove in his haste. He could tell when she was close, her control lessened and her vocals gained strength, her eyes stayed open and he pulled her down to kiss him, kept his forehead against hers until he felt her shudder. The way she tensed sent him over the edge as well, and in their glorious moment of passion the entire world fell upon them both in a glorious and immediate guilt-ridden heap.

Adaen sat up, grabbing the bottoms of her skimpy referee outfit and pulling them on quickly. Sheamus grabbed his trunks and did the same, looking at different eyes staring back at him.

"Listen, you… don't have to worry because I can't… I can't…" she trailed off as though it was both hard to speak to him and hard to find the words caught in her throat. She pulled her hair back and grabbed a ponytail holding dangling on the vanity, tying it quickly so only a few shorter strands fell loosely around her face.

"You're on birt' control?" he asked, trying to grasp for a girl who was already back to erecting walls against him.

"You need to go, the match starts soon," she said suddenly, grabbing a few things from her bag and going into the bathroom. She shut the door with finality, and he stood there for a few moments; wondering what in the hell he was supposed to do now.