A/N: I'm writing this as I patiently wait for the time when my boys get killed, once again, by the worst people in the WWE. Ever.

I think you'll enjoy this chapter. It's a little choppy with the line breaks, I know, but trust me. It's worth it in the end.

Nearly two months passed by. Trish wasn't bothered by Vince to come back. Even though she had never been asked since the last time she visited, it was always on her mind. She really did want to return. Since her joint effort with Ron on the yoga studio was pretty much out of the window, what else would she have to do? She couldn't keep relying on Randy forever. She didn't really think of it as relying on Randy, per se, but it was becoming to seem more and more like it.

She felt as if Randy was getting bored with her. Whenever she entered the room, he hung his head low and didn't say anything to her unless she asked him a direct question. It saddened Trish, and she started to think that she was overstaying her welcome, but Randy was just being polite about it and he didn't want to say anything.

Maybe it was time for Trish to find her own place.

"Trish, have you seen the sports section?" Randy asked one morning over breakfast as Trish perused the newspaper.

"Um, let me see," she mumbled, setting her section of the newspaper down.

Randy stood behind her chair. "What are you reading?" Randy asked, reaching down and picking up the newspaper. "The classifieds? Are you looking for another job? You should just sign, Trish, even though you don't want to hear about it anymore."

"I'm not looking for a job, Randy," Trish replied. "I'm looking for my own place."

"What? Why?" Randy asked, nearly dropping the plate of bacon he held in his free hand. "You can stay here as long as you want!"

"But I thought you didn't want me here anymore."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Well," Trish started, trying to think of a good reason, "you always seem so distant. It's like you don't want me around anymore or like you're bored with me."

How could Randy respond to that? Should he tell her that he was distant because he didn't know how to tell her how he felt about her? Could he even tell her? Even if he tried, it would probably come out just a bunch of mumbo jumbo that not even he would understand. He didn't like to make a fool of himself, especially in front of a woman he cared about, such as Trish.

"Trish, that's just how I am sometimes. I know I seem like a jerk and a cocky son of a bitch all the time, but I'm really not like that. I'm actually a very private person. I think a lot."

Trish smiled at Randy. "I'm still going to look for my own place. I can't stay here forever."

"You can, and you will, if you want to."

"I don't think that's the best thing. You have a life. You're going to meet a wonderful woman, and you're not going to want me around here like an annoying big sister, intruding on your personal life. Oh, here's the sports section," Trish finished, handing Randy his requested newspaper section.

Randy hesitantly took the newspaper from Trish, looking dejectedly at the ground. If he was well versed in the spoken word, clearly able to tell his feelings without confusing himself, he would be able to tell Trish that he already found that woman, and she was already living in his house.

"Are you sure he won't be there?" Trish asked, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of Randy's Hummer.

"Yes, Trish," Randy assured her. "Shawn and I did the math. His suspension is over tomorrow."

"Okay," Trish sighed, relieved. She really didn't want to run into Shane, no matter how well she was getting over what he did to her.

"I'll see you sooner than you think."

The words sent an unfamiliar chill through her body. Never before had a man had this effect on her. Just hearing his voice made her anxious. Was it what he had done in his past? Maybe. Or maybe it was because he was just so damn dangerous. Shane McMahon never had the best reputation with the ladies.

"I don't know, Shane," Maria sighed into her cell phone. "Your suspension isn't over yet."

"You just think that, Maria. I'll see you later. Oh, and for after the show tonight, wear something hot."

Trish couldn't believe what she had just heard. Was the Shane that Maria was just talking to really the same Shane McMahon that raped her? Trish hoped not. Even though Maria had a really sour attitude, she didn't deserve that. No one did. Should she talk to Maria? No, because Trish didn't know all the facts just yet. For all she knew, Shane was a nice boy from Chicago who worked for the same company for all of his life and was as sweet as they came.

Trish hoped the best for Maria. No one deserved to go through what she went through.

"We must have done the math wrong…" Shawn sighed. He and Randy were huddled in a corner, currently holding their bubbling anger inside of them.

Shane McMahon had just strutted down the hallway with his arm linked to Maria's.

Randy pulled out his cell phone and opened the calendar feature. "Okay, so he was suspended here…" Randy counted sixty days from the day that Shane had been suspended. "Shit, Shawn! His suspension ended yesterday!"

"What happened?" Trish said, poking her head in between Shawn and Randy.

"Um, nothing, Trish," Shawn said quickly, putting his arm around her and making her face the wall. "We were just talking, and…"

"What are you two hiding," a sinister voice called.

Trish's jaw dropped. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Sh…Shane?"

"That's right, Trish. It's me, Shane. Why don't you turn around so I can say hello to that pretty face of yours."

Trish started shaking, still in Shawn's grasp. He only held her tighter. "Let me go, Shawn," she demanded angrily.

Shawn didn't want to, but he did.

Trish turned around and charged towards Shane, determined to show him the truth about a woman scorned.

Randy caught her just in time, picking her up.

"LET ME GO!" Trish screamed, kicking and flailing in Randy's arms.

"You have hell to pay," Randy said, his eyes reducing to slits as they met Shane's eyes.

"Put me down!" Trish demanded one more time. This time, Randy obliged.

Trish ran in her heels down to Vince's office. She didn't even bother knocking in the door. In fact, she nearly broke the door down.

"Trish, what are you—" Vince asked, but Trish cut him off.

She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. She leaned over the desk so her face was mere inches from Vince's.

"Give me the damn contract."