Chapter 13 – Break Ups and New Beginnings

By Evilution

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, except for Paris and Amanda. I also do not own any of the places or businesses mentioned.

Friday afternoon, the RAW superstars who had been in Louisiana doing personal appearances arrived in Tallahassee, Florida. The bus ride, which had gone non-stop since Thursday morning, had been relatively uneventful. Paris was glad to be off the bus and the warmer climate only boosted her spirits more. Their first stop was the hotel, where several other RAW superstars, who had not been with their group, had already checked in. Paris and Trish secured their room and took the luggage upstairs while Chris made some inquiries about renting a vehicle. Amy was rooming with Lisa Varon, but Paris could tell that her mind was elsewhere. The redhead's eyes kept subtly roaming the lobby and parking lot and Paris could only assume that she was looking for Batista, being that she still hadn't had a chance to talk to him. Paris herself was more than anxious to see Randy, but unfortunately, there was no sign of Evolution anywhere.

Once in their room, Trish packed up the gear that she and Chris would need for the show that night while Paris took the opportunity to shower and change clothes. Since they had been on the bus all night, no one had had a chance to shower that morning. Trish took her turn after Paris was done and they didn't have to wait very long for Chris to show up. Within the hour, he secured a rented SUV and once they rounded up Amy, Jay, and Lisa, they were on their way to the arena.

The first thing Paris did when they arrived at the Leon County Civic Center was to find a script so she could mark Chris' spots for him. Then, she secured his costume from Colleen and grabbed Trish, Jay, and Amy's outfits as well since they were sharing a locker room with Chris. All three stars thanked her for her consideration and Paris spent most of the rehearsal time just hanging out in the locker room, not wanting to risk running into Rob and having to deal with a confrontation. The only person who came looking for her was Shane to present her with her first paycheck. Shortly before the show was about to start, Paris got bored and decided to go look for Randy, even at the risk of encountering RVD. She made her way down a long corridor and turned a corner, only to run right into Amy, who was having a private conversation with Batista. Both superstars looked up as she approached.

"Sorry, guys," Paris apologized. "I was just going to see Randy."

Amy smiled knowingly at Batista, who cocked his eyebrow at Paris.

"Looking for Randy, eh?" Batista teased. "He's in our locker room," the large man went on as he jerked his thumb toward the door behind his massive shoulders. "Just go on in—Paul and Ric aren't here yet."

Paris nodded as she left Batista and Amy to their 'tryst' and quietly entered Evolution's locker room.

"Randy?" she called, tentatively, violet eyes scanning the empty dressing room. Faintly, she heard a shower running toward the back.

"Randy?" she called again, a little more loudly.

There was no answer, so Paris slowly made her way toward the shower area, keeping her eyes modestly lowered, just in case he happened to jump out at her, naked or something. A few more steps and the shower area came into view. Through the steam, Paris could make out the silhouette of a man. He had his back to her, but Paris knew it had to be Randy. She stopped in her tracks, taking in quite a view as warm water coursed over his muscled back and tight butt. She began to call his name, but the voyeur in her had to take just a moment to enjoy the scenery. Silently, she admired the ripped contours of his shoulders, back, and legs. Standing there, naked as the day he was born, Randy Orton was arguably the most perfect man she had ever laid eyes on.

"Hey, Paris," a sexy voice drawled, jolting her out of her trance.

"Randy," she exclaimed, averting her eyes. "I tried calling you, but you didn't hear and …"

Randy chuckled softly. "It's OK. Hand me that towel, would you, babe?"

Paris grabbed a towel off of a nearby bench and practically threw it at him, still not meeting his eyes. "I'll just wait out here," she said, quickly ducking back into the main part of the locker room.

Randy smirked as he toweled himself off, enjoying her discomfort. He wrapped the towel around his waist and approached Paris with a cocky, very Ortonistic swagger.

"Enjoy the show?" he teased, insolently.

"I wasn't staring!" Paris protested. "I was just looking…"

"Just looking?"

"I was looking for you because I wanted to see you again and…"

"I think you already saw plenty of me, don't you?"

"Stop it! Stop teasing me!"

Randy laughed as he pulled her into a friendly hug. Paris gasped, intoxicated by the proximity of his damp, warm skin.

"I'm just kidding," he grinned. "So how was New Orleans?"

Paris shrugged noncommittally as he released her. She didn't quite know which bothered her more—being freed from his arms or thinking about the disturbing events that occurred in New Orleans.

"It was OK," she replied, unenthusiastically. "Nothing to write Dear John about or anything."

Randy stared at her in disbelief. He found it hard to fathom how a young, beautiful girl could not enjoy The Big Easy, but obviously, something had upset her, so he decided to let sleeping dogs lie—for now.

"Yeah, I had a pretty boring week, too," he stated. "Just kicked back at home."

"Which is where?"

"St. Louis—it's where I grew up."

"I thought Batista said you were from Texas."

"Yeah, well, he's an idiot."

Paris laughed.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Randy went on.

"Hopefully going out with you?"

Randy smiled. "I'll meet you at the hotel? After the show?"

"I'll be there," Paris replied, shyly.

Randy nodded as the door swung open and Batista walked in, followed by Paul Levesque and Ric Flair. Paris smiled again before standing on her tiptoes and giving Randy a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, guys! Bye, guys!" she chirped as she flitted out of the room, leaving Paul glaring at Randy, Ric looking confused, and Batista smiling admirably.

Randy smirked pimpishly at Paul before strolling back to his locker and leaving his teammates to discuss his most recent good fortune where Miss Paris was concerned.

Meanwhile, Amy was waiting for Paris in the hallway and the redheaded diva wasted no time digging for dirt on her blond friend.

"So," Amy urged. "What happened?"

Paris shrugged. "Nothing much. I just told him that I was glad to see him again and he asked me to go out tonight."

"Hmm. And what about Van Dam?"

"Rob Van Dam can go fuck himself," Paris said with finality, prompting a snort of mirth from Amy. "I assume Trish told you the gist of what happened," Paris went on.

Amy nodded. "Because you're my friend, I won't say I told you so."

"Thanks," Paris replied, dryly.

"And I can't wait to see one Mr. Matt Hardy next week so I can dump his ass for his involvement in the whole mess."

"You're dumping him?" Paris asked, shocked. "You shouldn't do anything rash just because of me."

Amy let out a disgusted sigh. "Well, I have yet to confront him about it, but I wouldn't doubt that he had something to do with it—not that Van Dam needs that much encouragement to be an asshole."

Paris couldn't have agreed more, but she had no desire to discuss Rob or Matt any further. "So what happened with Batista?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We just talked about Monday night. I told him that I don't normally get that drunk. He wants to go out again, but…I don't know. I probably shouldn't."

"What! Why not?"

"Well, because of Matt."

"But what about Batista?"

"We're gonna be friends—for now. He knows that I'm going through a lot of shit with Matt right now and he knows that I've gotta get my head straight first. Even if Matt and I break up, it doesn't mean that rushing into a relationship with Dave would be the best thing."

Paris nodded, understanding.

"It doesn't mean we can't all hang out either," Amy put in as the turned into the 'Green Room' and settled back to watch the show.

The house show went relatively well and before Paris realized what time it was, Howard Finkel was saying goodnight to the audience and everyone was getting ready to go. As they were leaving, Paris glimpsed Amanda with the rest of the ring crew, preparing to tear down the ring. More than anything, she wanted to go talk to her friend, but there was no way she was going to make the first move with that bitch, Sarah, hanging around. Paris was surprised that nothing more had been said about her fight with Sarah, but then again, there was really no need for it. Shane had already talked to her and Paris hoped that Sarah's supervisor had spoken to her about her involvement. Paris had noticed that she was getting more than a few dirty looks from the ring crew, but she could have cared less. They were going to believe what Sarah told them anyway.

Trish and Chris had decided to stay in for the night and Lisa was going on a date with Jay, so Paris took her things to Amy's room and the girls got ready for a night out with Evolution. Paris wore a pair of tan hip hugger khakis and a black halter-top while Amy wore black cargos and an olive-green half shirt. After making sure that their hair and makeup looked as sexy as possible, Amy and Paris strolled down to the lobby, where Randy, Paul, and Batista were waiting for them. The guys took in the girls' appearance quite appreciatively and complimented them generously. Paris' ever-present cleavage garnered a bit of attention on Randy's part, but he seemed annoyed that Paul and Batista noticed as well, especially Paul. As Paris was getting into Evolution's limo, who should come walking up to the hotel, but Sarah, Amanda, and Annie. Sarah smirked nastily at Paris before grabbing Amanda and ushering her into the lobby.

The nightclub they went to was practically packed to the rafters being that it was Friday night. However, Paris had a pleasant time with Randy and his friends, chatting and dancing. Surprisingly, Randy suggested they call it a night well before two AM and well before any of them were even close to being intoxicated. His reasoning was that they had to drive to Fort Lauderdale in the morning and road trips were always hell when one was hung over. Besides, they were going to be in Lauderdale for two days—there would be plenty of time to party. Batista and Amy agreed and headed back to the hotel with Paris and Randy, while Paul chose to remain at the club.

Back at the hotel, Paris grabbed her things from Amy's room and left her friend to say goodnight to Batista as Randy walked her to Jericho's room, graciously carrying her bag for her. At the doorway, he surprised her by settling for a chaste goodnight kiss and a promise that they would hook up again in Lauderdale. Little did he know, Paris could hardly wait.

Early the next morning, there was a lot of scurrying around as superstars who may have been out too late the night before struggled to wake up at such an obscene hour and get their things and themselves onto the bus to Lauderdale. Shane was the only one who was irritatingly cheerful as he rushed around trying to round everyone up. Paris yawned as she tucked her bags into one of the cargo cans and boarded the wrestlers' bus. Much to her surprise, Evolution was already seated at the back of the bus along with Amy. She had assumed that they chose to travel on their own, but apparently, that wasn't the case. This bus was a lot roomier than the one they had taken from New Orleans, probably because there had only been a handful of superstars on that trip. This bus had to accommodate the entire roster and Paris noticed other busses, presumably for other crewmembers. As Paris looked around for a place to sit, Randy caught her eye and patted the seat next to him. As Paris moved down the aisle, Rob Van Dam suddenly stood up, blocking her path as he stowed his carry on in the overhead compartment.

"Excuse me?" Paris urged as he pretended not to notice her and continued to stand in her way.

Rob turned and looked her up and down, an expression of sardonic disgust crossing his handsome face.

"Sorry, Paris," he whispered, close to her ear. "Didn't mean to get in your way as you run panting after Evolution."

"Fuck you!" Paris hissed through clenched teeth.

Rob smirked. "No, thanks—that's Evolution's job."

He and the Dudley Boys laughed as Paris glared at them, her eyes like violet chips of ice. Unable and unwilling to take anymore, Paris reared back and shoved Rob out of her way with every ounce of strength she possessed. Rob barely moved, but stepped aside just enough to let her pass, his mocking laughter still ringing in her ears.

"What was that all about?" Randy asked, eyeing Rob warily as Paris plopped down next to him, fighting the tears of anger that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"Nothing—he's just an ass," Paris explained.

Randy nodded and let it go, but he was acutely aware that something about RVD had put Paris on the defensive, whether it was something he said or just him in general. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that she was upset and that RVD was the cause of it.

The exchange between Paris and Rob Van Dam had not gone unnoticed by Paul Levesque either. Paul had been busy concentrating on Shawn Michaels' movements at the front of the bus, hoping that he didn't end up sitting close to his arch-nemesis, when he noticed RVD whisper in Paris' ear. Paris was obviously tense and uncomfortable and Van Dam had an arrogant sneer on his face that would have made Paul's alter ego, Triple H, proud. After a futile attempt to push RVD out of her way, Paris joined Evolution and sat down next to Randy, while Shawn Michaels sat towards the front of the bus with Shane McMahon, much to Paul's relief. Apparently, Shawn felt the need to do a little brown-nosing with his future brother-in-law, but as amusing as that was, it didn't completely shadow what Paul had witnessed. He wondered what could have happened between RVD and the newest flavor of the week, aside from the obvious. Randy seemed to be pondering the same notions as he continued to shoot jealous glares toward Van Dam. Oh, well, Paul though nonchalantly. Who cares what happened as long as it didn't interfere with the bet. Besides, if Paul knew his backstage contacts as well as he thought, it would only be a matter of time before one of them came running to him with news about what may or may not have occurred between Paris and RVD.

The eight-hour ride to Fort Lauderdale was relatively pleasant as Paris spent most of it chatting with Randy and getting to know him. She felt a little guilty for ignoring Jericho—after all, she was still his coordinator for a couple more days and she should have been asking him if he needed anything. However, Y2J didn't seem to mind as he dozed his seat, his head resting on Trish's shoulder while she remained engrossed in a Harry Potter book.

They arrived in Fort Lauderdale late in the afternoon and after checking into the hotel, Paris went to the arena with Chris and Trish. Because their bus arrived so close to the start of the show, there was a lot of rushing and Paris ended up being so busy that she didn't see Randy until the end of the evening. While things were winding down after the show, Paris and Amy made their way to Evolution's locker room to find out what the plans were for the night. Unfortunately, their journey was slightly delayed when they had the misfortune of running right into Sarah, Annie, and Amanda as they rounded a corner. There was an uncomfortable silence before Amanda decided to speak.

"Hey, Paris," she said, nodding.

"Hey, Amanda," Paris replied. "How've you been?"

"Good, and you?"

"Busy—we just got back from New Orleans yesterday. It was a pretty hectic trip."

Amanda nodded once again and opened her mouth to continue the conversation, awkward as it was, but Sarah chose that moment to interject herself into the discussion.

"So, Paris," she said in that smarmy tone that Paris had come to associate with Sarah. "I noticed you were all cuddly with Randy Orton when your bus pulled up to the hotel this afternoon, but then, I hear that you're dating Rob Van Dam—what gives?"

Paris rolled her eyes and gave Amy and annoyed look before smiling a very fake and insincere smile at Sarah.

"Not that my personal life is any of your concern, Sarah, but since you seem to be obsessed with me—no, I'm not dating RVD."

"Really?" Sarah went on. "Well, I just assumed after what happened in New Orleans that you two were dating. And here I thought you weren't that kind of girl, Paris."

Obviously, Sarah was privy to the rumor mills going through the WWE. No doubt Rob had already dropped a few hints about his interlude with Paris. Amy snorted and shook her head as Paris glared at Sarah warily.

"What exactly happened in New Orleans?" Paris prompted.

"Maybe you should go talk to RVD about that," Sarah said, smiling unpleasantly. "Let's go, girls—we still have a ton to do."

With that, she pushed past Paris and Amy, dragging Annie and Amanda with her. Amanda glanced over her shoulder at Paris with what could have been an apologetic look on her face before following Sarah around the corner.

"Just ignore her," Amy said. "She's a bitch and we all know it."

"Apparently, Rob's already running his mouth," Paris replied, bitterly. "What if he says something to Randy?"

"I'm sure that's precisely who he's hoping hears about it."

"And now that Sarah knows, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Randy catches wind of it. God, Van Dam is such an asshole! Why is he doing this?"

Amy sighed, seeing that Paris was close to tears. "It's just how Rob is. I tried to warn you."

Paris suddenly became angry. "Yeah, well, if that's the only thing he has to talk about, then maybe he needs to get laid a little more often so that his life isn't so boring!"

Surprise washed over Amy's face. "God, I didn't think you fucked him! Trish left that part out."

"I didn't fuck him, but I might as well have for what everyone's gonna think."

"Who cares what everyone thinks? If I had a dime for every asshole that's said I'm a dyke or I'm having threesomes with Matt and Jeff, I'd be a fucking millionaire. Wait…oh yeah, I am a millionaire."

"But what about Randy? I really like him, Ames."

Amy smiled. "Look, Randy has his own mind about things, and I happen to know he really likes you, too. He might be a little pissed off, if and when he finds out, but he knows you two weren't exclusive. You guys just met, for Christ's sake. He has no right to assume you belong to him—an unfortunate trait of Evolution, I'm afraid."
Paris nodded and stared at the floor, pushing back the tears of humiliation that were starting to brim her violet eyes.

"Besides," Amy went on. "We both know Sarah—she's just a troublemaker, and if we can see that, I'm sure everyone else can, too."

"Everyone except Amanda," Paris replied sadly, missing her friend.

"Yeah, well, give it time. Your friend will see through her eventually."

"I'd like to just kick the shit out of her," Paris stated, wishfully.

"Oooh, go, Paris," Amy teased, pushing her friend playfully as they approached the door to Evolution's locker room.

Amy knocked and Batista let them in as he, Randy, and Paul gathered around the girls to finalize plans for the evening. It was agreed that they would meet up at the hotel after everyone changed and freshened up. Then, they were going to a place called Hourglass, which was a club on one of the main Lauderdale beaches that had a two-story dance floor as well as an outdoor tiki bar and dance floor with an all-night DJ. Paul suggested that the girls dress up because even though they would be outdoors, it was still a very exclusive club. After leaving Evolution's locker room, Amy and Paris checked in with Chris and Trish, who were going to grab some dinner with Jay and Lisa before going out. The blond couple had already changed and gotten ready at the arena. They were going to ride with Jay and Lisa, so Paris and Amy were able to use the SUV to go back to the hotel. Back at the hotel, Paris grabbed her things from Jericho's room and hurried to Amy and Lisa's room to get ready. When Paris arrived, Amy had emptied most of her suitcase on the floor and was in a dither about what she was going to wear.

"Paris, you have to help me!" the redheaded diva cried. "I'm just not good at being a girly-girl!"

Paris managed to calm Amy down and sent her into the bathroom to take a shower while Paris found her something to wear. When Amy exited the shower, Paris proceeded to do her makeup and hair. Using a spiral curling iron, Paris wove Amy's red tresses into a riotous mass of curls that she knew Dave would just be itching to tangle his hands in. Then, Paris highlighted the diva's hazel eyes with black eyeliner and exotic gold eye shadow that shimmered in the light. She finished off the all-over golden effect by lightly dusting Amy's face with bronzer. When Paris turned Amy around to look in the mirror, Amy's eyes got wide and her mouth formed a tiny O, but no words came out.

"P…Paris," Amy stammered. "What have you done to me?"

Paris was crestfallen. "Oh, you hate it!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hate it?" Amy exclaimed. "God, I love it! I had no idea I could be so…so…"

"Sexy and alluring?"

"Yeah, sexy and alluring. But isn't it too much?"

"No, it's perfect. Besides, this look will go great with the outfit I picked out. Here—go change," Paris ordered, tossing Amy several garments.

Paris waited patiently as she listened to Amy fuss and fumble in the other room. Finally, Amy emerged and Paris knew she made the right choice. Amy was wearing loose black pants that had splits in the sides and black heels with a copper-colored bustier. Staring at her reflection, Amy fidgeted with her top, agonizing over the generous amount of cleavage it revealed.

"I don't know if I can go out like this," she lamented. "I don't want to give Dave the wrong idea."

"Oh, come off of it, Amy!" Paris laughed as she began to get herself ready. "This is all to impress Dave—or else you wouldn't have asked me to help."

Amy blushed. "Am I terrible?" she asked. "I mean, I know I should break up with Matt first…"

"As long as that's your ultimate goal," Paris advised. "Otherwise, you'd just be leading Dave on and that's not cool. I speak from experience—I shouldn't have led Van Dam on."

"You know, you're right," Amy said. "Maybe I should call him—Matt, I mean."

"Right now?" Paris exclaimed, touching up her makeup. "Seriously? You're going to call Matt and break up with him right now?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but if I don't do it now, I'll just obsess about it all night, don't you think, Paris?"

"If that's what you gotta do to be happy…"

"Paris, it's time," Amy declared. "Don't you think I could feel it this week? And it's been building up for a long time."

"Then, I guess I'm not telling you anything you don't already know," Paris stated as she concentrated on her clothes while Amy punched Matt's number into her cell phone.

"Thanks, Sean O'Haire," Amy retorted as she paced the floor, nervously chewing on her lip.

Paris shot her a strange look, wondering who in the hell Sean O'Haire was, but she didn't have time to ask as apparently, Matt answered the phone.

"Hello?" he said, sounding annoyed.

"Hey, Matt, it's Amy." She was somewhat taken aback by his rude tone. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Well, I was sleeping," Matt replied, getting the distinct impression that she was calling to bust his balls about something.

"Jeez, sorry I bothered you," Amy said, sarcastically.

"Just get to the point," Matt told her, impatiently.

"Look, you know I'm not one to beat around the bush and since I don't want to take up any more of your precious time, I think we need some space."

There were several moments of silence before Matt spoke. "What brought this on?"

"I just think it's for the best," Amy went on. "Obviously, we weren't getting along this week and I want to be able to go out with my friends and have fun without having to worry that you'll be mad. Maybe it'd be different if you were on RAW and we got to see each other more…"

"This is because of Paris, isn't it?" Matt exploded. "You're dumping me because of that little bitch!"

"That has nothing to do with it," Amy snapped, glancing in Paris' direction.

"You're pissed because I encouraged Rob to fuck with her, aren't you?"

"He did a lot more than just 'fuck with her' as you so eloquently put it!" Amy shot back, lowering her voice.

"Maybe if she can't handle it, she doesn't belong here," Matt retorted.

"Jesus, Matt—I don't believe you! I mean, it's nice to hear you admit it, but I guess I can't believe you'd stoop that low! Maybe I don't know you as well as I thought I did!"

"Look, Amy, I hate to break this to you, but your sweet, innocent, virginal friend, Paris, is nothing more than a first-class cock tease! She came onto Rob at the club. I saw her practically dry-humping him on the dance floor and then, she's gonna whine because they fooled around a little bit? She's lucky she didn't get a hell of a lot more than she did."

"God, when did you turn into such an asshole?" Amy questioned.

"So I'm the asshole?" Matt shouted, snorting with disbelief. "Apparently, I'm the one who doesn't know you. Tell me, does this have anything to do with Evolution?"

"Why would it have anything to do with Evolution?"

"You know what, Amy? If you're so blind that you don't think anyone else can fucking see what's going on with those guys, then you're just as stupid as your fucking cock tease friend, Paris!" The word 'Paris' came out of Matt's mouth sounding as if it was something utterly distasteful.

Amy flinched at Matt's caustic tone, holding the phone away from her ear.

"I guess Rob was right," Matt went on, somewhat melodramatically. "When he said Paris was on her way to being Evolution's whore, I guess he forgot to include you in that assessment as well!"

"You know what, Matt—fuck you!" Amy screamed into the phone before hitting the end button and throwing the device across the room.

"I guess he didn't take it too well," Paris replied, nonchalantly as she put away her makeup and glanced over her shoulder.

"Well, that settles it," Amy said. The fact that she wasn't even upset spoke volumes. "You almost ready?"

"I just have to get dressed," Paris said, ducking into the other room.

"Do you think I did the right thing, Paris?" Amy yelled so Paris could hear her.

"What do you think?" Paris called back.

"I feel like a weight's been lifted off of me."

"Well, then, there's your answer. OK, how do I look?"

Paris stepped back into the main room and Amy gasped. She was wearing a black and burgundy wrap skirt with a split up one side, revealing a lightly tanned leg. On her feet, Paris wore chunky black sandals, but the piece de resistance was a sexy, black, low-cut half shirt that fastened at her breasts with a jeweled clasp and was lined around the bottom with a row of glittery beads. Paris' sun-streaked blond hair was tousled seductively and her lips had been painted into a wine-colored pout. She did the obligatory model's turn as Amy let out a low whistle.

"Well?" Paris urged, wanting her friend's opinion.

Amy laughed. "Orton isn't going to know what to do with himself. He's gonna be too busy tripping over his tongue."

"OK, let's do a quick check before we leave," Paris said. "Lip gloss, perfume, money, ID…what else?"

"Nothing," Amy replied. "Let's go!"

"Pretty anxious to have Dave fawn all over you, aren't we?"

"Der! Look who's talking, you little ho!"

"Very funny—if Randy even notices, I'll be the picture of grace."

Amy snorted. "Yeah, well, I hope you're wearing panties under that skirt, so you don't have a big wet spot when he's falling all over himself complimenting you, all the while his brain is thinking about how bad he wants to fuck you."

It took Paris a minute to get what Amy meant and then, she blushed furiously at her friend's no holds barred humor.

"God, Amy—that's gross!!"

"Let's go, Paris," Amy laughed musically as she flipped off the light and shut the door behind them.

Meanwhile, outside Evolution's hotel room, Paul Levesque and Dave Batista stood in the hallway, rolling their eyes impatiently as Randy Orton took one final glance in the mirror and smoothed his navy blue Armani shirt before dashing out the door to join his friends.

"Every hair in place, pretty boy?" Paul mocked as they headed towards the lobby where they would be meeting Paris and Amy.

"Fuck, look who's talking!" Randy shot back. "You spent more time in front of the mirror than I did."

"Hey, I have a bet to win, remember?" Paul stated.

"Yeah, well, Paris is my date tonight," Randy smirked. "So I guess you'll just have to wait your turn, Paul—that is if you even get a turn. I'll probably be sealing the deal tonight anyway."

Batista shook his head at Randy's attempted machismo. He knew that his friend was not yet in a secure enough place to let on to Paul that he really liked Paris, so he had to play up the bet for the sake of macho humor. Of course, if Paul thought Randy was winning, maybe he'd back off. Batista hoped that Randy didn't mistakenly believe this. If Paul thought he was losing, it would only compel him to try that much harder.

"Dream on," Paul laughed. "You're no closer to winning than I am."

"I beg to differ," Randy retorted. "I'm the one who has a date with her now, don't I?"

"Randy, I wish that you could just see that you're totally outclassed on this one," Paul said in a condescending tone.

"I wish you'd just go fuck yourself," Randy told him.

"You know what I wish?" Batista said, annoyed. "I wish you'd both shut the fuck up!"

"What crawled up your ass?" Paul asked the bigger man.

"Nothing. You two are just pissing me off, that's all. It's bad enough that you have this juvenile bet, but you have to fucking talk about it all the time. It gets old, OK?"

Randy nodded, not in the least offended by Batista's comments. He knew that it was just his friend's way of telling Paul to shut up and by including Randy in his comments, he didn't let on to Paul any of Randy's true intentions. He also quelled Paul's suspicions by making it sound as if his annoyance and impatience was aimed at both of them, not just Paul.

"You know what, man," Paul said, ingratiatingly. "I know you're trying to impress Amy Dumas—and that's cool. I respect that, man, so I won't mention the bet. I just hope Randy can be as mature and give you the same respect that I am."

Randy snorted. "I'll try and restrain myself," he replied, sarcastically, giving Batista a knowing look as Batista smirked admirably at Randy's insolence toward Paul.

As they entered the lobby, Randy's eyes scanned the room for any sign of the girls as Batista glanced absently at his Rolex watch. Paul made a quick phone call to make sure that the limo was stocked and ready to go. While they were waiting, Randy was momentarily distracted as Ric Flair approached him with some questions about next week's itinerary. Out of the corner of his eye, Randy saw Paris and Amy saunter into the lobby. His heart stopped as he watched Paris stroll towards him, looking absolutely gorgeous. His gaze flashed from her stunning face to her ample cleavage to the tanned leg peeking out of the split in her skirt. By the time she reached their group, Randy would have been lying if he had said that he wasn't completely aroused. It was all he could do to not be rude to Ric, but just as he was about to brush Ric off and drop some generous compliments on Paris, Paul beat him to the punch.

"Paris, Amy, you're both looking very beautiful tonight," Paul remarked as Paris did a playful model's turn for all of them and Amy smiled winningly as she took her place next to Batista.

"Thanks, Paul," Paris replied, glancing at Randy expectantly.

Randy stared back at her with an apologetic look on his face, all the while still trying his best to pay attention to Ric. Before he knew what was happening, Paul was ushering everyone out to the limousine. Randy could only stand by idly and watch his rival escort his date to the car.

"Orton, let's go," Batista called, holding the door for him.

"Sorry to be rude, Ric, but I gotta go," Randy yelled as he dashed out the door,

leaving the Nature Boy standing in the lobby with a stunned look on his face.

Once inside the safety of the limo, Paul instructed the driver to take the scenic route to Hourglass. He told the girls that the club was about half an hour away, so they might as well sit back and enjoy the ride along the beach. Paris and Amy began to relax as Paul opened a bottle of champagne and passed around full glasses for everyone.

Randy, on the other hand, was still irritated that Ric had ruined Paris' entrance for him. Gazing down at her as she sat between him and Paul, he had wanted nothing more than to take in every inch of her as she walked towards him. Luckily, she was so busy chatting with Paul now that Randy was able to check out everything he had missed earlier.

But apparently Randy wasn't the only one feeling slightly out of sorts. As he took a better look at Amy, Randy could understand why Batista had been staring with glazed-over eyes. Randy was used to seeing the woman known as Lita in cargo pants, crop tops, and mesh shirts, but tonight, it was different. She was still Lita, only kicked up a few notches. She had obviously dressed to make an impression and although Randy and Paul were both impressed by her beauty, they weren't the ones that she was hoping would notice.

Of course, Amy's appearance was having quite the effect on Batista and as the champagne and the conversation began to flow more freely, he wasted no time casually draping his huge arm over Amy's shoulder. She didn't seem to mind as she snuggled up next to him, her head resting against his chest. Batista wished that Randy, Paris, and Paul had been anywhere but in that limo. He wanted nothing more than to tangle his hands in Amy's fiery red hair, to rain kisses all over her body, to touch her skin, which reminded him of candlelit silk. For the moment, he settled for absently caressing soft tendrils of hair as they spilled over her bare shoulders.

"How's the triceps?" Amy asked, jolting him back to reality.

"Stronger every day," Batista replied. "How's the neck?" He gently massaged her shoulder.

"Never been better. I can't wait to be back."

"When's the date?"

"Next week, I think. How bout you?"

"Some time in October. I'm ready now, but they're working it into the Goldberg angle."

There was what seemed like a long silence before Amy spoke again.

"I broke up with Matt," she said, quietly.

Batista wasn't sure he heard her right. "What?"

"It's over—me and Matt."

"Is that a good thing?" he asked.

"I'm beginning to think it is."

Batista searched her eyes. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to take this slow. I want it to be OK for us to be friends first. Is that cool? Be honest, OK?"

"I'm OK with being friends," he said. "As long as there's potential for more."

"Oh, there'll be more—I can guarantee that. Besides, I'm OK with being friends with benefits."

"Benefits, huh?" Batista replied, smiling. "What kind of benefits?"

"You're not quite eligible for benefits yet," she teased. "You haven't been on the job long enough."

"Oh really? Well, I guess I'll have to work extra hard then, won't I?" With that, he gave her a soft but chaste kiss on the lips.

"No fair," Amy pouted.

"Hey, I'm just sampling what kind of benefits are available."

Randy watched with amusement as his friend—the monster of Evolution—canoodled with the redheaded Queen of Extreme. As much as he was enjoying the show they were putting on, his mind was never off of Paris for very long. Although she had been talking to Paul for most of the trip, Paris made sure that Randy's thoughts were never too far from her by shooting him seductive looks out of the corner of her eye. She didn't even flinch when he placed his hand on her bare knee. She just absently caressed the back of his hand with her fingertips, much to Paul's consternation. Both Randy and Paris noticed that Paul was somewhat perturbed by the fact that even though he had Paris' attention, he didn't have her undivided attention. Randy knew exactly why this bothered Paul, but Paris just thought it was innocent, male competition. Paul was apparently interested in her and he was jealous that Randy was, too. As charming as Paul was, Paris was really wishing that Randy would talk to her. So far, he hadn't uttered one word, but she figured he was just acting jealous because she was visiting with Paul. Suddenly, Paul's cell phone rang and Paris saw the opening she was looking for.

"Hi," she said quietly, leaning toward Randy.

Randy smiled, bending his head to whisper in her ear. "I know someone's already told you this, but you look really hot tonight."

"I didn't think you noticed," Paris replied, pouting.

"Oh, I noticed," Randy said as his lips brushed her neck, causing her to shiver slightly.

"Do that again," Paris whispered as she glanced at Amy and Dave, who were busy with each other, and Paul, who was still on the phone.

"I don't know," Randy sighed, pretending to be hurt. "You've been ignoring me all night long, talking to Paul. My ego's kind of bruised. I just don't know if I'm up to it now."

"What are you up for?" Paris teased, her fingertips tracing a circle on his arm.

Randy shrugged, feigning nonchalance. In reality, his skin was practically on fire wherever she touched him and his mind raced to come up with a witty rebuttal. He chuckled, an evil grin spreading across his handsome face.

"If I told you that, I'd probably get slapped in the face."

"That explicit, huh?" she bantered. "Now I'm intrigued."

Randy laughed softly, admiring her impudence. "Tell me, Paris—are you a good girl or a bad girl?"

Paris giggled. "Oh, I'm definitely a good girl, Randy."

"Oh," Randy replied, acting as if he were disappointed. "I see."

"Good at being bad," Paris quipped as she pinched his chest playfully.

"Hey, be careful there," Randy scolded jokingly, his face a mask of mock indignation at her boldness. "Watch where you're pinching, missy—I happen to have very sensitive nipples."

"What!" Batista shouted, looking incredulous. "What did you say?" Apparently, the word 'nipple' had sparked his attention.

"She was tweaking my nipple and I told her they were sensitive, OK?"

"I don't really want to hear about your sensitive nipples, dude," Batista retorted.

"Neither do I," Paul added dryly, putting away his cell phone.

"Well, as I recall, I don't believe I was talking to you, Dave," Randy stated, sarcastically. "But then again, I figured you were too busy playing tonsil hockey with Amy to hear anything I said anyway."

"Very funny, Randy," Amy responded. "I must have missed the part where you turned into Jerry Lawler."

"We weren't playing tonsil hockey," Batista insisted.

"Yeah, right," Paul said, chuckling. "What? Do you think we're all blind?"

"Or stupid?" Randy put in as Paris suppressed a chuckle and Amy blushed beet red.

"Just shut up!" Batista told them, obviously flustered. "You're all being a bunch of ass clowns anyway!"

Randy, Paul, and Paris all started laughing at the couple's apparent discomfort over having their bond with each other discovered. However, there was no time for Batista or Amy to come up with a sharp retort because the limo had just stopped in front of Hourglass. The driver held the door for Paul, who exited first, and then, helped Paris and Amy out of the car. Several people waiting in line recognized Paul and Amy and began yelling 'Triple H' and 'Lita' at the top of their lungs. As Randy and Batista stepped out of the vehicle, several women began screaming and Paris could have sworn she saw one girl swoon when Randy walked by her to enter the club. Of course, Randy had his arm firmly and possessively around Paris' waist, so it was obvious to any bystander that they were together. Randy maneuvered Paris around Amy, who had stopped to sign some autographs as Batista waited patiently and chatted with some fans.

"Aren't you going to sign autographs?" Paris asked pointedly, remembering her past week with Jericho and how Chris always seemed to find time to stop and chat with his fans. She also remembered Trish telling her once that it took an act of God to get Evolution to do anything nice for their fans.

"Normally, I would," Randy stated. "I just don't like to at clubs and stuff because there's always someone who's drunk and gets obnoxious. You give an inch and they want a mile."

Paris nodded, understanding, but she was a little bit bothered that Randy was so young, yet he sometimes exhibited Paul's jaded attitude. He appreciated his fans, but only on his terms. Of course, that was his right as a celebrity. There had been times in Vegas that Paris wished the paparazzi would leave her alone and no doubt she had been rude on more than one occasion. But she had to wonder, was that the real Evolution and the real Randy, or just a façade that Paul wanted them to maintain?

As the doors to Hourglass opened for them, Paris knew that only time would tell. She could only hope that the sweet, sensitive side of Randy that she had seen was the real him. She could only hope that the rumors weren't true and that the darkness she often saw in Paul's eyes wasn't reflective of the rest of Evolution. It wasn't just her heart at stake, but Amy's as well. Broken hearts often took an eternity to mend.

Please review. Sorry for the lack of updates. The next chapter will be coming out soon—it's all written, I just have to type it. Enjoy!

--------Evilution