A/N: Update. The next chapter for your reading enjoyment boys and girls. Honestly, I can't believe I'm almost at the end of this story. It seemed so far away when I originally began posting it October. And yet, here we are. There is one chapter left, and then the epilogue. Depending on how long the next chapter turns out, I might consider splitting it into two separate parts. But we'll see.

Anyways, thank you guys for all your reviews and unwavering support of this story and the ones that preceded it. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

As an added request, I'd like to know what sex you think the baby will turn out to be. Let me know ;)

Please read and review!!

Easing his car into the driveway, Jeff Hardy switched off the engine. Next to him, Lana fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Her deep brown eyes stared nervously out into the yard before her, taking sight of the house. Stepping out of his car, Jeff's jade green eyes studied the building before him as Lana had just done. Walking around the front of the car, he pulled the passenger door open. Lana remained seated, looking up at Jeff.

Reaching his hand to her, Jeff's smile was soft and gentle. It reassured Lana to some extent. Taking Jeff's hand in her own, she carefully stepped out of the car, with Jeff quietly closing the door behind her. Still holding one another's hands, the pair made their way up the path. Stepping onto the porch, the couple immediately became bathed in a brilliant light as the security light flicked itself on. Reaching the front door, Jeff's hand lifted, moving towards the polished wood of the door.

"Jeff wait." Lana mumbled. Turning to face her, Jeff's eyebrow arched on his forehead. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, does Trish really want to know that…that…"

Obviously lost for words, Jeff finished the sentence for her. "…that we're dating? I think she'll be happy for us. Unless you don't want her to know."

"That's not it." Lana shook her head softly. "It's just that with my past with Trish and Randy, I don't know how she's going to feel about knowing we're together. I mean I tried to steal her husband once. Now I'm dating her ex. I'm scared it's going to solidify some opinions she has of me being some cheating skank."

Jeff chuckled softly. Wrapping his arms around Lana's body, he pulled her into a tender embrace. The warmth of her skin seeped through his shirt, warming him to the core. Resting his head on her shoulder, the scent of her hair intoxicated him, setting alight a passion in him he though had long since died. In truth, Jeff hadn't felt this way about anyone, not since he and Trish had been together. Now that happiness finally seemed available to him, he wanted to share it with the world. Starting with one of his best friends.

It had been an almost happy accident that he and Lana had gotten together. He hadn't really noticed her around the company. He hadn't actually spoken to her before. The night of the Hall of Fame celebration, Lana had finally plucked up the courage to talk to him. It was ironic, because it was the night Jeff had first noticed her. Dressed in an intense shade of red, she was the most beautiful thing he had seen. From that moment, he'd been hooked. It hadn't started well in that he'd split a drink over the dress. And yet, since that had happen, they'd been inseparable ever since.

They had kept their relationship a secret, from everyone in their lives. Jeff hadn't felt ready to expose his private life to everyone, and Lana had been worried what Trish was going to say. Besides which, questions could be asked about the nature of a relationship between a member of the roster and the General Manager's Executive Assistant.

But that was the past. After seeing how well Randy and Trish had worked in the same circumstances, Jeff had drawn the confidence he needed to tell the world about himself and Lana. Perhaps he had been hiding just a little too long behind excuses in an effort to protect himself from heartbreak. But if seeing Randy and Trish together had taught Jeff anything, it was that sometimes the risk really was worth it. When it came to their relationship, everything that glittered might not exactly be gold, but they were blissfully happy. Who could want more than that?

Jeff had been hoping Trish would still be awake so that they could talk. Besides the news of him and Lana, one of his best friends was due to give birth in the next few weeks, and he felt as though they had yet to have a real conversation about it.

He had been meaning to catch up with her during the baby-shower. But with all the excitement of the event and everyone after Trish's time, he hadn't been able to get the mother to be alone long enough to talk. Now seemed the perfect time to have the conversation.

Pulling back from their embrace, Jeff softly brushed his lips against Lana's. "It's going to be okay Lana. Trust me."

With a relaxed smile, Jeff turned and knocked his knuckles gently against the door. Silence greeted him in return.

Leaning to the side, he attempted to peer through the windows placed on either sides of the door. It looked dark inside, and no activity of any kind was discernible. Knocking the door again, Jeff sighed as he still had no reply.

Sighing in disappointment, Jeff decided to leave it until another day. Turning to leave, he stopped as Lana held his hand, pulling back towards the door.

Turning to look at her, Jeff could see her brow knitted in confusion. "Since when have you ever known Trish to be in bed before midnight?" Lana's explanation caused Jeff to pause. "I know she's pregnant and all, but she's not an early-to-bed kinda girl."

"Maybe the day just got to her. She's probably exhausted. I don't want to wake her up if she is in bed." Jeff shrugged his shoulders. He could imagine how tired his wife was. The last thing he wanted to do was to disturb her slumber.

Lana seemed unconvinced me. "Humour me Jeff. I just want to make sure that she's okay."

Jeff nodded. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself glancing upwards towards the next floor of the St. Louis home. Reaching for the front door, his hand gripped the bronze door-knob. With a gentle flick of his wrist, he turned it.

Much to his surprise, the handle turned completely, and the door opened with a faint click. Sliding his head into the crack of the open door, Jeff peered into the dimly lit hallway. His voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. "Trish?"

Lana had apparently less tact, and pushed straight past Jeff and marched into the front room of the property. It was shadowed in complete darkness. Reaching across the wall, Lana's had found the light-switch. Clicking it on, much of the room and the hallway came into focus. It was empty and dark. "Trish," Lana spoke loudly, "are you down here?"

The slightest twinge of concern that was at first in Lana's stomach now began snowballing into all out panic. Picking up into a light jog, she moved directly past Jeff and headed into the kitchen. It was just as silent as the front room. The only sign that someone had been in here was the open cupboard door. Stepping closer, Lana pressed the back of her hand against the kettle on the work surface that was still switched on. Although cooling rapidly, she could feel the heat from the water inside. Heading back to the hallway, Lana caught up with Jeff who was standing at the foot of the stairs.

Shaking her head to show that Trish wasn't here, Lana carefully put her foot on the first step. "Trish? Are you up there? It's Lana."

No answer. The silence seemed to steal Lana's resolve even more. One foot followed the other as she began ascending the stairs, Jeff in close pursuit behind her. Reaching the landing, Lana peered around. There was light coming from the bathroom and the bedroom. Nodding her head in the direction of the bathroom, Jeff responded by headed that way.

Following the beam of light imprinted across the carpet, Lana stepped next to the bedroom door. Placing both hands flat against the door, Lana gently pushed forward. The door swung open in a graceful arc, displaying the Orton's bedroom entirely. Taking a step in, Lana glanced ahead of her. Her attention was drawn to the bed that was pressed against the wall to her left.

The gaze of Lana's eyes fell immediately on Trish. The bed around her was completely wet. Both of the Canadian's legs were bent at the knees, the soft fold of her dress pooling between her thighs. Her head seemed lost in the red satin pillows behind her. Trish's usual mane of golden blonde hair was a damp mat, clinging to her forehead. Although her eyes were closed, the eyebrows on Trish were knitted in distress, her chest heaving in an affected pattern of breath.

"Oh my god, Trish!" Lana cried. Immediately she was at Trish side, gently cradling her friends head in her hands. Craning her neck over her shoulder, Lana called out to her boyfriend. "Jeff! She's in here!"

Turning her attention back to Trish, Lana did her best to rouse her. "Trish? Trish its Lana. Can you hear me? Trish? C'mon girl, speak to me. That's it…come one." Lana breathed a sigh of relief as Trish's chocolate coloured eyes flickered open. Hazed and unfocused, they fell across Lana's concerned face. Gritting her teeth, a fresh puddle of tears formed in the orbs of her eyes as Jeff appeared next to Lana.

"Jesus, Trish. Are you okay? What's the matter?" Taking her hand, Jeff looked down on Trish. A wave of concern rushed through him. He had never seen Trish looking as pale and weak as she did now.

Trish mumbled something unintelligible in response, as Lana deduced what was going on. "I think she's gone into labour Jeff. Where's Randy?"

"He's out in town with the guys. She's in labour…are you sure?" Jeff turned to Lana for confirmation.

"Pretty much," Lana replied, "she really doesn't look too good. Go call 911 Jeff. I'll go get something cold for her forehead. She's burning up. It's like she's got a fever or something."

As both Jeff and Lana moved to leave, Trish's hand suddenly renewed its strength and gripped Lana's in her own. Lana turned back as Trish grimaced. "Lana…please don't leave me alone…"

"No problem. I won't go anywhere." Lana replied. "Jeff, get Trish some ice!" The brunette carefully sat on the bed next to the panting Trish, who was going through another contraction. Lana position herself behind Trish, supporting her back as the Canadian groaned. "That's it Trish, just keep breathing. Deep breaths…good girl…that's it. Okay we're almost there Trish…there. Just keep breathing okay?"

Trish's blonde head bobbed as she nodded, gripping Lana's hand in her own. "It hurts so much Lana. My hips feel like they're on fire."

"You're okay Trish. Women go through this every minute of every day. You're doing fine I promise. I'm going to help you through this okay? Me and you. Total tag team action girlfriend." Lana grinned, stroking Trish's damp hair away from her face.

Trish smiled appreciatively. "Thanks Lana. I'm really glad that you're here."

Lana smiled softly, truly touched by Trish's words as Jeff reappeared. Holding a bowl of ice. Wrapping a few cubes inside a white cloth, he handed it to Lana who pressed it against Trish's forehead. "I called 911. An ambulance is on its way here. It'll be five minutes. Will you be okay for that long butterfly?"

Trish nodded mutely. "I'll be alright. Thank god you guys are here. I don't what I would have done if you hadn't shown up when you did."

"We're just glad we did," Lana replied, moving the cold cloth over Trish's perspiring features. "How's the pain?"

"It's bad," Trish admitted through clenched teeth, "but keep talking. If we talk about something, my mind won't be on the fact that my hips feel like I've been fucking a chainsaw."

"Well, how about this as a topic," Jeff offered, not sure whether he should laugh or cry at the mental image Trish had just provided him with. Perching himself on the edge of the bed, he leant closer to Trish. "Lana and I came by here tonight, to let you be the first to know that she and I are together."

Trish looked blankly from Jeff to Lana and then back again. The light of realisation seemed to take spark in her eyes as she realised what Jeff meant. "Are you serious? Like, as in you two are a couple?" Lana nodded in silence, mentally preparing herself for the nuclear meltdown about to occur. Instead, Trish beamed warmly. "I'm so pleased for the two of you. That is fantastic news. You two will make such a cute couple."

"Really?" Lana couldn't hide the tone of disbelief in her own voice. "Like, you're not mad with me for dating Jeff?"

"Why would I be mad Lana?" Trish smiled, squeezing her hand this time in an affectionate way. "Two of my closest friends are together. I can't think of anything that would make me happier. Other than to get this kid out of me."

Jeff nodded. "Have you called Randy?"

"I tried," Trish whispered as she felt the tightness returning in her pelvis. "But I couldn't make the…call…oh god…" Trish whimpered as another contraction took hold. Lana held her closer, gently rubbing her back as she made cooed softly in Trish's ear. The support was invaluable to Trish, who right now couldn't imagine a worse agony.

Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, Jeff punched in Randy's number. Holding the phone to his ear, the phone continued to ring. Eventually, the call got diverted to Randy's voicemail. Waiting for the tone, Jeff spoke into the phone. "Randy man, it's Jeff. Listen, I'm with Trish at the moment. She's gone into labour. We're taking her to Saint Louis University Hospital. I'll call you again when I know which ward she's on. Later man."

Trish's face fell slightly as she realised that Jeff had been unable to reach her husband. What made it worse, were the flashing blue lights flickering through the upstairs bedroom window. Peering out between the curtains, Jeff turned back to face Trish. "The ambulance is here Trish."

"I can't give birth without Randy," Trish stammered, "He has to be there. He can't miss the birth of his baby."

"He'll be there Trish, he's going to check his phone and get over to the hospital. Jeff will keep calling him, okay?" The sound of loud knocking on the front door, followed by the call of a paramedic stopped her mid sentence. Lana resumed, smiling down at Trish as she did so. "Come on, let's get you to hospital Trish. You're going to have a baby tonight."

The glass sparkled in the dancing lights coming from the dance floor. Holding it against his lips, Randy basked in the cheers of his friends as he downed another shot of vodka. This one was labelled as 'Birthday Cake' flavoured, and indeed tasted as such. With a roar, he planted the glass down on the table as his friends cheered.

Next to him, Dave Batista grinned, slapping Randy on the back in admiration. That was Randy's fourth shot in the last hour, and still the young 'Legend Killer' was raring to go. And why shouldn't he be? He was married to one of the most beautiful women in world, who was soon to give birth to what he imagined to be their equally beautiful son or daughter. He was at an all time high in his professional career as well. No-one could deny the super-watt grin plastered across the kid's features. Tonight it seemed, Randy Orton had it all.

"I can't believe it man," Randy sighed at last, "I've got my girl, my job, my title. And in three weeks? I'm gonna have my baby. What the fuck did I do to deserve shit like this? I still can't believe Trish is going to have our baby. How head-fucked is that?"

Batista smirked as the generic blonde model next to him lit the cigarette in his hand. "Trust me man. These next few months are going to be the ones that you always going to remember. There ain't anything in the world that can compare to your girl giving birth to your baby. I know everyone says it, but it really does change your life in ways you can't imagine."

Randy leant forward from his chair. "You've got little girls Dave." Batista nodded, picking up his beer bottle where it was resting. "How do you cope man? If Trish gives me a little girl, I'm going to be so thrilled. But at the same time terrified. My little girl is going to grow up and become a woman. Aren't you worried that your babies are gonna meet guys who are just out for some ass. Guys like…"

Randy found himself cut off as Johnny Nitro cut in from next to him. "…Randy Orton?" The group of friends chuckled as Randy playfully punched Nitro in the arm.

"Well yeah. Guys like me." Randy conceded.

"Sure I am." Batista observed diplomatically. "I've told their mom that they're not allowed out of the house until their forty. And any and all men in their lives have to be pre-approved by me. No exceptions." Randy chuckled at Dave's protective streak. "Besides, isn't it a little early to be concerned about jackasses hitting on your daughter? You have to have the kid first. And then you could have a boy."

"I know." Randy nodded. "I just keep thinking about all this shit twenty-four-seven. I always knew there was a lot of responsibility in being a parent. But the closer Trish gets to actually having this kid, the more I start having near-strokes over how I'm going to cope."

"You'll do fine," Batista smirked, "and even when you fuck up, because we all know you will, Trish will be there to make everything right. Just make sure you're there for the baby Orton. I know this business is in your blood. Hell, it is for most of us. Be your career isn't going to last much past forty. That kid is going to be with you for the rest of your life."

Randy's expression grew solemn for a moment. Growing up with his father being in the wrestling business, he was exposed to the world of professional wrestling from an early age. The price for his love for the business? A family. Sure, he had been on the road with his father over the years. And more than once, Bob Orton had brought the locker room boys back to their home in St. Louis. Still, his' father's presence was a notable absence from his early days as a child growing up. Randy had often wondered that maybe his passion for the wrestling business was actually him trying to seek the approval of his father.

Deciding to leave the metaphors and psychological reasoning to Dr. Phil, Randy stood up from his seat. Shrugging his jacket off, he hung it on the back of the chair. Slinging his arm around the shoulders of Johnny Nitro, he grinned at the rest of his friends. "Come on boys. I feel like dancing." Without another word, Randy headed out onto the dance floor. Immediately, several women present in the club crowded around him. Randy honestly wasn't interested. He was happy enough to dance by himself and work out the nervous energy in his system,

"Fucking fairy." Batista chuckled. Getting up out of his seat, he moved to join Randy and their other friends on the dance floor. By chance, his leg brushed against Randy's jacket. Feeling the vibration against his leg, Batista stopped. Glancing out onto the dance floor where Randy was, he looked back at the jacket. Debating on whether or not to grab the phone, he was interrupted as the blonde model came bounding over.

"Come on baby. Let's dance." She beamed. Dave nodded, saying he'd be there in a second. Reaching his hand into the inside breast pocket of Randy's jacket, Batista's fingers wrapped around the vibrating cell phone.

Pulling it out in time, Dave say Jeff Hardy's name flash on the display before the phone stopped vibrating. Dave normally wouldn't have thought anymore it, but he happened to notice the amount of missed calls on Randy's cell phone. All seventeen of them. Gripping the silver clam-shell in his hand, Dave made his way across towards the Randy. Sliding his bulky frame between the group of bodies writhing on the dance floor was a job of work, but he eventually made it.

"Hey man," Dave shouted as loud as he could over the speakers which were blaring out music. "Check your phone."

Randy barely understood what Dave was saying, but accepted his phone from his friend. Making apologies to the women swarming around him, Orton carefully slid across the dance floor to freedom. Heading beneath the main steps leading the exit of the building, Randy stepped behind them. There was nobody back there, and a lot quieter. Noting the amount of missed calls, Randy flipped the phone open and punched in the number for his voicemail.

Holding the receiver to his ear, his jaw went slack as Jeff Hardy's desperate voice sounded in his ear with his latest message. "Randy man, it's Jeff again. I don't know if you got my other message or not, but you need to get your ass to Saint Louis University Hospital like now. Trish is in labour and she's not doing so well. Call me when you get this. Come one man, she needs you right now. Call me back."

No sooner had Jeff's southern tones ended than had Randy run at full speed back towards his table. Snatching his jacket from the back of the chair, he found his car keys in his pocket and was already starting to run towards the exit. The muscled frame of Dave Batista stood in his way. "Orton man. What's going on?"

"Trish is in labour Dave. I've got to get to the hospital." Randy attempted to push past Dave but was stopped by his friends' large hand on his shoulder.

"You're not thinking of driving are you?" Randy looked blankly at Dave, as if that was the stupidest question ever asked in the history of stupid questions. "Randy, do you even know how much you've had to drink tonight?" Randy stopped, shaking his head softly. "Six bottles of beer and eight shots. You are in no state to drive."

"I have to get to the hospital man!" Randy's voice sounded near frantic.

"Alright, but you're not driving man." Randy scowled at Dave, who held up his hands. "Hey, you're not going to be any good to Trish wrapped around a tree okay? Let's get up top and I'll call we'll get you a taxi okay?"

Randy nodded in agreement and the pair headed up the stairs. Reaching the outside, the Saint Louis air was nearly turned blue at the number of curses Randy Orton let loose. A huge cue of people was standing in line, all waiting to catch a taxi. Glancing down the street, Randy stared in the direction the city.

Turning back to Dave, Randy looked directly at his friend. "If you get a taxi, pick me up." Without another word, Randy turned and took off in a full speed run towards the city.

Dave threw his hands up in frustration as Randy grew smaller in the distance.

His legs pumping ridiculously fast beneath him, Randy silently prayed that he would make it in time. His head however, seemed to doubt it.

Hang on Trish. I'm coming.