"Of course," he said with a smile. He threw his things together, ducking into the bathroom to gather his toiletries. He left the room key on the dresser, and held the door for her as she walked out. They went down to the front desk, where he checked out. They went outside and sat down on a bench outside the lobby area. They sat quietly while people filtered out and slowly went about their day. A large, muscular man came out of the big revolving door and headed over to them.

"Is that...?" asked Lisa.

"Rand-o!" Sheamus called.

"Hey Big Red!" said Randy Orton. Well over six feet tall, with chiseled features and short brown hair. Tattooed all over his arms, wearing a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, jeans and brown shoes. "Let me guess, you didn't check your texts this morning."

"Aw no, what did I miss?!"

"Only the bus leaving an hour ago."

"Well shit," Sheamus said, "How are yeh getting there?"

"Train ticket," Randy replied. "Last one, a really nice girl gave it to me so we could spend some extra time together," he said with a wink at Lisa. "And who might you be?" He asked.

"Lisa," she said, standing up to shake his hand.

"Pretty name, pretty girl," he said, looking her up and down.

"Thaaaanks?" she said.

"No worries about him, love, he's like this with everyone. He's like a puppy - a little overbearin', but generally means well, yeah?" said Sheamus. Lisa smiled up at him and nodded.

"So Big Red, how're you gonna get your ass to Toronto? You know the road managers are gonna freak if you're late."

"Eh, I'll figger it out, don't worry about me, Rando! Have a good train ride, see yeh there!" Sheamus replied. Randy sauntered off towards a taxi, perfectly tousled, cocksure, and knew it. Sheamus slumped on the bench a little bit and sighed. "Fack..." he said.

Lisa bit her lip and glanced over at him. "Ummm..." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well, I hope this isn't too forward, but, um, I have been needing to make a Toronto trip for awhile now, and I'm not working again for a few days, so, uh, if you want, I can give you a ride to the airport?"

"ARE YEH SERIOUS?!" He bellowed.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..." she stuttered and backtracked.

"NO! It's wonderful! Yer a lifesaver! That would be amazin'!" He scopped her up in a big hug and swung her around, feet flying in the air. She shrieked and giggled like a teenager. They walked down the road from the hotel to Lisa's truck.

"Sorry it's nothing special, definitely not a tour bus!" she apologized.

"It's cute!" he stated, "I like it!" She unlocked the doors and he jumped in. His head almost touched the roof, and his knees were bent, but he fit, and seemed almost comfortable. She hopped in the driver's seat, and started up the truck. The latest Foo Fighters single blared out at top volume. Lisa cringed and turned it down, fast.

"Sorry!" she said, "It's a guilty pleasure!"

"Oh yeh have no idea," he said, "I love the Foo Fighters! Dave Grohl is my hero! I met him once, I was like a wee lad in a sweet shop!"

"Seriously?" she responded, "I LOVE them! Them, Bush, Live, Nirvana, Green Day, I'm all about the 90's alt-rock!"

"Yeh have good taste, lady!" he said. Lisa grinned and shifted the truck into drive. They drove down the road, talking, laughing, like old friends. Lisa was amazed at how comfortable she felt around him. Even completely sober, nothing was awkward, which was a change from her regular state of being. She'd always had trouble with men. She had almost sworn them off, actually, after the last disaster of a relationship. She knew nothing would come of this, but the fact that it ended up becoming a great day after a really, really great night, was cool enough in itself, and she resolved to stop overthinking, and just enjoy what was happening. They cruised down the 401, driving by her hometown.

"That's where I live!" She stated, and pointed towards the town.

"We've been on the road an hour," he said, "Yer tellin' me yeh drove all that way to go see a wrestlin' show by yerself?"

"Ha! I know, so lame, right? I have this friend Kevin, from college, who got me into the whole wrestling thing, but as a chick in her thirties, it's not so widely accepted, you know? But I heard there was going to be a live show, and I thought, 'why not, you only live once,' and I bought the ticket and went by myself."

"Not lame at all! I admire a woman with courage to do things against the grain. Speakin' of, what do yeh do for work? Yeh have a great truck, so I know yer not destitute!"

"Well, actually, I'm an airplane mechanic, "she replied.

"No yer not! That's jest too cool!" he shouted.

"Well, it's just something I've always wanted to do. Ever since I was a little girl, I helped my dad fix stuff in the garage, and then in high school, I was all about the welding, and woodworking, and automotive shops, and it just carried forward from there," she said with a smile and a touch of pride.

"I bet yer good at it," he said to her, glancing at her out of the side of his eye with a smirk. "Yer good at usin' yer hands, if I remember correctly."

She blushed and let out a guffaw. "Yeah, I guess I am, actually! It took a long time for me to admit that, but yeah, I'm good at my job. I fix the fuck out of those planes!"

They carried on for another couple of hours, traffic was clear, and the weather was beautiful, and they started to see signs for the airport.