A/N: Yes, Queen Islanzadi, I do. I do, indeed. Not as much as a couple months ago, but still more than anyone else I know at my age…

Mickie sighed in disbelief and she popped another potato chip into her mouth. She flipped the page of her magazine that she was reading as she was laying on her stomach on the bed of her hotel room. She heard the water in the bathroom turn off and looked up to see Trish walk out of the bathroom, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel and her body covered with a hotel bath robe. She had forgotten hers at Randy's house.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Mickie asked, closing her magazine and tossing it to the side. She closed the bag of chips and lightly threw it at Trish, who caught it, reopened it, and stuffed a large handful of the sour cream and onion flavored chips into her mouth.

"Nope," Trish mumbled with her stuffed mouth.

Mickie rolled her eyes, remembering the drive to the hotel from Randy's house. Mickie repeatedly tried getting Trish to tell her what had happened, and Trish continually refused. "You can't keep all of this bottled up inside you, girl. It's going to make you crazy."

Trish opened her mouth wide and dumped the rest of the contents of the bag in her mouth. After she swallowed, she let out a very disgusting sounding burp.

"Or crazier than you already are…" Mickie added after Trish's blatant display of pure class. "Look, I don't want you gaining unnecessary pounds, and Vince is always looking for any reason to get rid of expendable talent…"

"I am not expendable," Trish said, this time with a properly empty mouth. "But I might make myself that way. It's going to be too awkward working with Randy. Gosh, Tyra was so wrong. You shouldn't get with your coworkers."

"Our job really isn't what you would call normal. Our wardrobe calls for us to show up when no one will see us dressed like proper ladies, while we then appear on worldwide television in as little clothing as legally possible," Mickie explained. "Besides, you're like the most beautiful girl on earth."

"If I was really that beautiful," Trish sighed, "things would be easy for me."

"What isn't easy for you?" Mickie screeched. "You get everything you want. Sometimes, I don't think you understand how lucky you are."

"Can I explain something to you before you freak out on me more?" Trish asked, giving Mickie some sad form of puppy dog eyes.

"Sure. The floor is yours."

"Okay…" Trish took a deep breath before continuing. She wasn't quite sure how to put her feelings into words. But, Mickie was pretty much her best friend now that Randy was out of the equation, so this should come easy…Right? "So…I really do think I'm in love with him now. But I really only think about him when he's not around me. And when we're together, everything just seems so easy. It's like our friendship was meant to be, but only friendship. And when he's gone, I miss him more than anything. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. You know that whole 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' thing?"

"Of course."

"You're the classic example of it. You don't realize what you have until it's gone, or rather, until he's gone."

"I guess that makes sense…"

"I think that you and Randy need to sit down and have a nice talk about everything. Who knows, by next week, you guys could be married!" Mickie suggested.

"I don't think so…"

"Oh, come on. You guys already act like you're married."

"We do not!"

"Why is it that everyone sees something except the people who are smack dab in the middle of it?" Mickie wondered out loud.

Knock.

"Who the hell…?" Mickie mumbled. Who would be knocking on her hotel room door at three in the morning? "Randy!" Mickie guessed, practically leaping off the bed to answer the door. Trish's Prince Charming had arrived to whisk his princess into the sunset, or rather, darkness of the night.

"He wouldn't," Trish said, her insides squirming.

"Oh…hi…" Mickie said, at a loss for words when she opened the door.

No, their visitor was not Randy Orton, unless he had lost a foot in height, about one hundred and fifty pounds, and gained long red hair.

"Who is it?" Trish asked, stepping up next to Mickie. "Maria? What on earth are you doing here? Especially at this hour?"

Maria sobbed, quickly trying to wipe some tears from her eyes.

"Are you crying? What happened, Maria?" Mickie asked.

"It's…It's…Shane. He…He…"