Thanks so much for the positive response to the last chapter! I'm so glad I was able to revisit these characters. I'm having a lot of fun. I had to split this next one into two parts because it came out longer than I expected. As always: Read, Enjoy, & Review!

Avery stirred awake when she smelled bacon cooking. She didn't even think she had bacon but she hadn't taken an inventory of her refrigerator when she got back home since she wouldn't be there long. The bed beside her still felt warm and she stared for a moment at the indent in the other pillow. Jon crawled into bed with her very early in the morning and cuddled her close, resting his obviously weary head on her shoulder. She knew that she should have moved or said something but he was so warm and his arms felt so good pulling her in that she just allowed herself to drift back to sleep. Things had already gotten messy. Sleeping in the same bed wasn't going to make it that much worse.

She got out of bed slowly, not in any hurry to face him yet. She had a pounding headache and decided to take a quick shower first. She threw on a big t-shirt and panties before heading downstairs.

She found Jon in the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, taking him in before he noticed her. He was shirtless, hair still damp from his own shower, and he had a red and white gingham printed towel tossed over one shoulder. His sweats were slung low on his hips and she forced her eyes upward, feeling like a peeping tom. She never thought that drawer full of his clothes in spare bedroom would actually come in handy. Until then, she'd only opened it in her absolute weakest moments, slipping on that stupid old Moxley shirt and falling asleep in it. It didn't smell like him anymore. She spilled merlot on it once and had no choice but to wash it. Still, when she held it she smiled and thought of him. She thought of how he loved to complain about her stealing his shirts but always told her how good she looked in his clothes. Even when she was at her absolute angriest, she knew she would always love that shirt.

He picked up a pan from the stove, turning to empty scrambled eggs onto two plates.

He stopped when he saw her, giving her a crooked grin, "Afternoon, dollface."

"Is it that late?" she winced. She hadn't actually looked at a clock or her phone yet. He nodded toward the display on the stove that read 12:15. She never slept that late. She remained in the doorway and he went back to what he was doing, dropping the pan into the sink. She wasn't sure what to do or say next.

He grabbed 2 glasses from her cabinets, filling each with orange juice.

"You planning on holding up the wall all day?" he looked up at her. He offered up a smirk but she could see a flash of uncertainty there. He was feeling just as awkward and confused as she was. She took comfort in that.

"It's a peace offering," he wiped his hands on the towel before setting it down. "I don't exactly remember everything but I know I was a handful last night."

"What do you remember?" she asked, padding into the kitchen and resting her elbows on the island.

"I remember you chugging my beer," he teased. "And I remember you taking care of me in the bathroom. Thank you."

"Someone had to do it," she shrugged.

"You didn't have to," he corrected. "I wasn't exactly on my best behavior."

"No, you certainly were not," she felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she picked up her orange juice. "You were about to fight Kenta. He would've kicked your face off before you even knew what was happening."

"Not my finest hour," he admitted, his voice husky as he scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Anyway, I'm hoping breakfast makes up for some of it."

"I appreciate the breakfast," she rested her chin on her hand, biting her pinkie nail as she considered her next words carefully. "Do you...want to talk about why you got so trashed last night?"

His blue eyes met hers over the top of his glass. When he put it down, he raised an eyebrow, "You don't know?"

She shrugged, unsure of what to say. Of course, she had her theory on why he acted the way he did but she wanted his take now that he wasn't fall down drunk and yelling about his god damn shoes. He moved around the island and stood beside her with his back leaning against it. His arm was close enough to hers that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He sighed deeply and scratched his head, "I don't know what you want me to say here, Av."

"I told you what I want you to say," she insisted. "I want you to tell me why you acted like such a shitbag last night."

"Because you brought Orton with you," he answered, tossing his hands up. "You already know that."

She wasn't an idiot. She knew he wouldn't be thrilled about Randy's presence but she didn't think he would start the shitstorm that he did.

"I know you don't like him," she turned to face him. "But did you have to tell him about Fergal? Why bring up ancient history?"

"Because I knew how he'd react," Jon's expression bordered on smug for a fleeting moment. "I knew he'd throw a hissy fit and piss you off and I wanted the both of you to be as pissed off as I was."

Avery was annoyed by the answer. It was childish and spiteful. It was something she would probably do if she was angry. That certainly didn't make it right. She was petulant at best when she was angry.

She didn't bother to hide the bitterness in her tone, "How are we supposed to be friends if you're actively trying to put me in shitty situations?"

"You put me in a shitty situation when you brought him," he returned, facing her and setting down his glass. He ran his hands over his face, looking up at the ceiling, "I know I deserve it. I know it's my fault that things are the way they are but fuck…I can't stand that guy on a good day and now I have to deal with watching him paw all over you."

"He wasn't pawing all over me," she argued at his exaggeration.

"That's what it looked like to me," he insisted. "And I hated it. I hate seeing him with you. It makes my fuckin' blood boil. Mix that with a bunch of booze and here we are."

"Is it about him or me? Is all of this just because you don't like him or…"

Her words trailed off when she found him staring at her. He looked bewildered by her question as though there was only one possible answer and he couldn't understand why she would think otherwise.

"It's about you," he spoke quietly, looking her right in the eye. "And me. Av, you can't deny that there's something going on between us."

Avery fiddled with the edge of her glass, looking down. His blue gaze was too intense; his eyes too blue. He made her breath catch in her throat. Of course he was right. There was no denying that. She just wasn't sure what the hell they were supposed to do about it.

"He's not right for you," he spoke quietly.

"And you are?" she risked looking at him again. He was so close. When did he get so close?

"I don't know," he admitted. "But this morning, when I got into bed with you..why didn't you kick me out?"

"Because you're an annoying drunk and-"

"The truth, Avery," his eyes pleaded with her for the real reason. His hand was hesitant as he reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. His thumb brushed the skin just below her earlobe. It was dizzying, his touch. His forehead touched hers and she closed her eyes. "Say something," he implored.

"I wanted you there," she admitted.

The words had barely left her before his mouth descended upon hers. All of the tension that had been brewing between them bubbled over. The kiss was bruising and intense from the start. She threaded her hands through his hair. Fire danced through her as their tongues brushed and a deep groan rumbled through him. He threaded his arm around her, yanking her tight against him. Her pulse raced. Her head spun. Jon's hand seared a tantalizing trail along her skin as he pulled up the hem of her shirt.

They stumbled out of the kitchen into the living room. He fell back onto the couch and she crawled into his lap, their lips never parting. Avery felt intoxicated and breathless. She was starving for him and he gave her fevered, almost desperate kisses in return. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her flush against him. She gasped as she felt how hard he was against her core.

"Fuck, I missed you," he spoke against her lips.

She untangled her fingers from his hair, touching the sides of his face, closing her eyes when he kissed her thumb, "I missed you too."

She didn't have time to catch her breath before he pulled her back to his mouth. He trailed hot, wet kisses to her neck, just below her ear. He pulled up the bottom of her shirt and she reluctantly broke their kiss long enough for him to yank the shirt off and toss it aside.

His fiery gaze raked over her before he continued, nipping at her collarbone and the valley between her breasts. One of his hands pressed between them, stroking her wetness over the fabric of her panties. She grabbed on to his shoulder, rolling her hips against his hand.

The low, lascivious growl that escaped him made Avery's skin tingle. She grabbed the waistband of his pants, "I need you."

"Are you sure?" he breathed.

She nodded, kissing him again. She couldn't have been more sure. She wanted him and she couldn't wait any longer.

She faintly heard a strange jingling noise behind her but she ignored it, languishing in Jon taking a nipple into his mouth.

"Oh God damn it."

"Shit!" Jon spat, clutching his arm around Avery and pulling her tight against his chest. Over her shoulder, he could see Kevin and Ashley. Kevin was holding a hand over his eyes while Ashley simply looked up at the ceiling. Somehow they hadn't heard the door open. Truthfully, a bomb could have dropped in the next room and Jon wouldn't have known, he was so consumed with her. He also forgot that she let every Tom, Dick, and Harry that she called a friend have keys to her house.

"Of course," Kevin sounded exasperated. Jon snatched up Avery's shirt, helping her slip it on over her head. "At least this one is more of a gentleman than the last one."

"I told you this would happen," Ashley chuckled. "You owe me 20 bucks."

"Can you two get the fuck out?" Jon asked angrily as Avery scrambled off of his lap. It was no use. They all knew that wasn't happening.

"What are you guys doing here?" Avery finally spoke, trying unsuccessfully to smooth down her hair. Jon's pulse was still racing. He watched Avery trying to collect herself and all he could think about was making her come undone. He could still feel her, taste her. He wanted her desperately. He was painfully hard and dizzy with need.

"Last night we made plans to go to lunch and then we're supposed to take you to the airport," Kevin explained. "Clearly you don't remember that."

"I do not," Avery admitted, crossing her arms and casting her eyes toward Jon. He felt a dopey smile spread across his face when they made eye contact. He coughed, trying to cover it.

"I didn't either but Kevin texted us both this morning," Ashley explained. "Obviously, you were preoccupied."

"Okay, that's enough," Avery put her hands up, glaring at her friends.

"Listen, why don't you just go get ready and we'll wait?" Kevin suggested. "We can drop Jon Bon Jovi over here off at the hotel."

Jon frowned, confused, "Excuse me?"

"You probably don't want to know," Ashley shook her head.

"In your drunken stupor last night, you started belting Livin' On a Prayer," Kevin explained. He shrugged when Ashley gave him a sharp look, "What? Like he's ever had any shame."

Jon wasn't surprised to hear it. He'd been known to participate in some very drunken karaoke in his day.

"Listen, I know this is really awkward, but we should get this show on the road, babe," Ashley spoke to Avery. "I'm gonna guess you haven't eaten and you do need to be at the airport in a couple hours."

"I can take her to the airport," Jon insisted.

"In what car? You didn't even drive here," Kevin aggressively reminded him.

Jon sighed, feeling his shoulders tense. He was trying his best to keep his cool.

Avery looked at everyone like she couldn't figure out who to talk to first. Jon knew that she was feeling what he was. He certainly hadn't imagined that.

"Ash is right," Avery sighed. She looked at Jon apologetically, "I have an early afternoon flight."

Jon nodded. It was clear that her friends weren't about to leave them alone again. He couldn't blame them. If they left, he was going to ravage her and apparently they had a problem with that.

"I can help you bring your bags downstairs," Ashley volunteered, heading toward the stairs and snaging Avery's hand.

She looked at Jon again and he smiled, silently assuring her that he understood. She smiled back at him and they stared at each other for a few beats. Jon thought about pulling her in for another kiss but a sliver of rationality kept him from doing it. He didn't need comments from the peanut gallery.

Avery turned to follow Ashley up the stairs. He was sure she would be interrogated once they were alone. He wondered what she would say.

"You want to put on a shirt or something?" Kevin grumbled. "Maybe some shoes?"

Jon rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. He couldn't stand Kevin but he didn't want to upset Avery so it was best if he didn't engage.

"Listen, I'm only going to tell you this once," Kevin spoke. "But I can promise you I'll tell Avery every chance I get...This is a bad idea. And if you even think about doing something to hurt her, just think about what I will do to you and ask yourself if it's worth it."

"You don't scare me Kev," Jon reminded the other man. "And Avery doesn't need you to protect her from me."

"Someone has to," Kevin glared. He pointed at Jon, "And don't you even think about trying to come to lunch with us."

Friday…

Randy passed the last leg of a long drive alternately staring out the window and scrolling through Twitter. He did not miss being crammed into a rental car with his buddies; constant noise, food, and wrong turns. John had warned him, once he started traveling with a bus, he would hate anything else. He was 100% right.

He resisted responding to some smark tweeting about how most of the main roster couldn't hang with the main eventers in NXT. Carano had asked him recently to stop responding to fan tweets. Randy didn't see why it was a big deal. He was supposed to be a heel, what was wrong with him telling idiots when they were being idiots? Could one even be called a main eventer if they were still in NXT?

He kept scrolling, stopping when he saw Avery's handle. He liked the picture she used in her avatar. It was a snap of her wearing a backwards NXT baseball cap and blowing a kiss at the camera. She told him that Paige had taken the picture on a bus ride somewhere in Florida.

She'd retweeted a video from the official WWE account, adding her own caption Suuuure, Dean.

The video was a clip of a backstage segment from Smackdown. Randy hadn't seen it yet.

He pressed play on the clip, watching as 'Dean' came into frame, walking quickly through the backstage area.

"Ambrose, wait up!" Avery walked quickly behind him, reaching out and tugging at the elbow of his leather jacket. "I was looking for you earlier."

"Oh yeah?" He asked. "Well, here I am."

"I see that," she laughed, looking surprised at the somewhat cold response. "Listen, is everything okay? You've been a little weird since Monday night."

"Everything's fine," he assured her.

She crossed her arms, incredulous look twisting her features.

"What?"

"You're a bad liar," she declared.

"I am a great liar, how dare you," he pointed at her.

She raised her eyebrow and he sighed, "Okay, fine. There is something that's been bothering me. I just uh...what was with you kissing Rollins on Monday?"

She seemed caught off guard by the question and shrugged casually, "Well if I'd hit him, you would've been disqualified. I was trying to help."

He looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed, shaking his head and brushing his hair out of his face, "That actually makes some sense."

"I thought so," she gave a smug smile and crossed her arms. "Rollins and his little pet monkeys have cost me enough matches. It was fun to give him a taste of his own medicine. And I owed you for helping me out."

"Look, I appreciate you having my back but...maybe no more making out with Rollins if you can avoid it, okay?" Ambrose asked uncomfortably, rubbing a spot behind his ear.

"Believe me, that won't be happening again," Avery said. She looked intrigued as she continued, "I have to ask...why do you care that I kissed him?"

"I'm not saying I care I just...I'm just looking out for a friend and I don't think it's a good idea," Jon insisted. "He's a creep and he may take it the wrong way."

"Or you're jealous," she suggested with a grin.

"I am not jealous," he scoffed.

"Mmhmm," she smirked. "Whatever you say, Ambrose."

She moved to walk past him, briefly rubbing her hand over his arm, "See ya later."

He watched after her, his expression equal parts admiration and frustration. He spoke again, to no one in particular, "I'm not jealous."

The video had only been up for a short time and already had thousands of retweets. He had to hand it to Vince and Paul, the crowd really ate up the idea of the two of them together. Randy, however, wasn't a fan. He couldn't ignore the irony in the subject matter though. Avery had blown up at him at the party for seeming jealous. He knew that he should have called or texted her by now but he still wasn't sure of what to say. She was livid with him after he confronted her about Fergal and he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to make her see his side. He hadn't known her long but he knew she had a stubborn streak a mile long.

So did he.

Did he even want to fix it? He wasn't sure. Avery was beautiful and she was fun and easy going. That was what he enjoyed about her. That argument at the party had been messy and dramatic. He didn't need more drama in his life. Maybe he needed to take that as a sign and take a step back.

Paul draped his elbows over the ropes, leaning against the turnbuckle pads. Avery and Paige were both sitting on the canvas while Sara Amato and Jamie Noble stood on the ring apron. They'd all come in early to walk through the spots for the women's chairs match. If this walk through was any indication, this was going to top their match at Survivor Series. Paul was incredibly impressed with how prepared they were. Avery had come in with more spots in mind than they could even begin to use. She had them organized into what she wanted to do what she knew he would let her get away with. She had a great mind for this business. She understood psychology in a way that a lot of people her age couldn't. He knew that Paige contributed as well but he'd worked with both of them enough to know that Avery's was the more creative mind. He had been slightly worried about giving them this stipulation but now he was convinced that it would be worth the risk.

"I think we've got it," Sara said. "I don't think we need to go over that one again."

"Are you sure?" Avery questioned, the slightest hint of a wince passing her expression as she rubbed her right shoulder. "I can do it again."

"I know you can," Sara insisted. "I don't think you need to."

"It looked great, Avery," Paul assured her. "You guys have it down. Just watch the way you take that fall off the apron."

"I know what you're thinking but I think it looks better the way I did it," she explained.

"You're not wrong. It does look better," Paul agreed. This particular spot saw her falling out of the ring after hanging over the ring apron, head first, on her back. When she took the bump, she came down hard, folded up like an accordion. It looked spectacular but the thud he heard when she hit gave him pause. "Just trust me on this."

She nodded and he could see her gears grinding as she decided whether or not she wanted to listen.

"Do you know when we're going on yet?" Paige questioned.

"Not yet," Paul sighed. Vince kept going back and forth on where he wanted them on the card. "You'll either open the show or start the second hour. Any other questions?"

"I think that's it," Avery smiled, standing up and helping Paige up with her left hand.

"Avery, get that shoulder checked," Paul instructed. She looked alarmed and he laughed, "I noticed."

"Noticed what?" she tried for an innocent smile.

"Get to the doc," he pointed.

She rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips, making him chuckle. He heard voices and looked briefly at his watch. Right on time, Jon and Colby were headed down to the ring. He'd scheduled time to work on their match next. When Avery noticed them, her cheeks flushed in an instant. She reached up tightening her ponytail and adjusted the twisted strap of her sports bra. Jon started grinning like an idiot.

Paul sighed, looking up at the big screen above the ring. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on now.

Avery was filled with a slightly alarming surge of emotions when she saw Jon trailing behind Colby. They hadn't spoken since they dropped him off at his hotel the previous morning but he'd been on her mind in basically every free moment she had. She couldn't stop thinking about his lips, his hands, his...everything.

She could feel the heat in her cheeks and she was certain that somehow, everyone around her could read her thoughts. She ran a hand over her face, squeezing her cheeks together for a moment to keep from smiling. He looked good, damn good, in a plan gray sleeveless shirt and black basketball shorts. She could feel his eyes on her and she deliberately avoided his gaze for fear that it would reduce her to a puddle.

"Hey!" Colby smiled cheerfully as he got into the ring. He hugged Avery tightly, lifting her off her feet and then did the same to Paige.

"They're up next," Paul explained.

Jon climbed into the ring after Colby and Avery was unsure of what to do. Awkwardly, she reached out for a handshake. He laughed, taking her hand and firmly shaking it, "Long time, no see."

She smiled as he looked her in the eye. He pulled her a step closer, winking at her. She rolled her eyes, wondering if he could feel the flutter that wink caused inside her through her hand.

"You two are going to have a lot to live up to with what my girls have planned," Sara smiled proudly.

"I'm sure it's gonna be great," Colby agreed.

"Do we get to know who wins yet?" Jon questioned, finally breaking contact with her and looking at Paul.

The finish of the women's match was a closely guarded secret. Or rather, several secrets since the outcome had changed 3 times in the last week. It seemed that they finally had an answer now that they had just over 24 hours until the match. Unfortunately, Vince had landed on Avery's least favorite of the proposed finishes. He'd at least agreed to consider an idea she had to tweak it slightly.

"It's none of your business who wins," Paul joked.

"Are we not both firmly involved in an angle with Avery?" Colby questioned.

Paul ignored the question, "Listen, while I have you all, I want to talk to you."

They performers were all immediately apprehensive.

"Vince wants to cool it on the Avery and Jamie spots."

"What?! Why?" Avery exclaimed.

"Could you try to seem slightly less devastated?" Jamie glared at her.

"No, I can't," she glared back at him. "I am devastated."

"So am I," Colby laughed. "I love watching Avery beat him up."

"What exactly does he have a problem with?" Avery asked.

"He doesn't like the physicality between a man and a woman," Paul sighed. "He's concerned about backlash."

"It makes sense for the two of us to have physical conflict," Avery said. "I'm defending myself."

"You just like getting to abuse me," Jamie accused. "Admit it."

"The fans love it," Avery responded. "Not everything is about you, Jamie."

"I like it too," Paul admitted. "If I had my way, I'd end it with a match between the two of you but as it stands, Vince wants to blow it off with a match between Jamie and Ambrose."

"Wait a minute, that doesn't work. She would never let me fight her battles. It doesn't make sense."

Avery perked up at his support, "He's right. It would be completely out of character."

"His mind seems to be made up," Paul said. "But if you want to try and pitch him something, I'll get you some time."

"Thank you," Avery smiled gratefully. She appreciated that he knew when she wasn't going to let an issue die.

"Do I have any say in this?" Jamie asked.

"Of course not, Jamie," Avery shot him a look.

"Alright, we need to get started. We don't have all day," Paul clapped his hands together.

Paige hopped down from the ring apron and as Avery moved to pass Jon, she caught him staring at her.

She softly touched his arm, his skin warm under her fingertips, "Thanks for the backup."

"Anytime dollface," he smiled at her.

"Chop, chop, Cupcake," Paige shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice.

"I'm coming!" she yelled back at her impatient friend.

Jon held the ropes for her and she hopped down, wincing when she felt the nagging pain in her shoulder again.

"Straight to the doc, Avery," Paul demanded.

Jesus, what was he- a mind reader?

"Straight to the doc," she repeated. "Pinky promise."

Jon watched as Avery walked up the ramp with Paige, mildly concerned with Paul ordering her to go to the doc. He wanted to know what was going on but he didn't have time to find out until later. As hard as it was to get her off of his mind, he and Colby had a TLC match to prepare for.

"Why don't you guys warm up? We just want to write down a couple notes for the girls and then we'll get started when Arn gets down here," Jamie explained. He and Sara got out of the ring, speaking quietly to each other and Paul excused himself to take a phone call.

"So you wanna tell me what that was about?" Colby asked.

Jon rubbed over the tape covering his knuckles, raising an eyebrow at his friend, "What?"

Colby sported a dumb grin and leaned over the ropes, staring up the ramp, "Anytime, dollface."

"Fuck off," Jon laughed in spite of himself. "I didn't look like that."

"You looked like a little puppy," Colby teased.

"So what?" Jon shrugged his shoulders. "Puppies are fuckin' adorable."

He didn't try too hard to defend himself. He might have a tiny case of googly eyes when he looked at Avery. The image of her breathless and nearly naked in his lap was still very fresh in his mind.

"You do have a point there," Colby agreed. "I guess I should just be glad she didn't kill you after the way you acted at Fergal's party."

Jon couldn't hide his smug smirk, "No, she definitely didn't kill me."

Colby narrowed his eyes, "What's that supposed to mean? What happened?"

Scolding himself internally, Jon wiped the smile from his face. He knew better than to talk about it with anyone. He wasn't some teenager who needed to gossip with his friends about a girl.

"Nothing happened," he insisted. "I made her apology breakfast and she didn't kick me out. Progress, right?"

"For you two? Huge progress," Colby laughed. "I wonder if she's gonna let Randy off as easy as you."

Jon frowned deeply at the idea, "I hope not."