A/N: So, this is the first of a few new stories which I'll be working on going forward, as well as continuing with Fortune Favours the Brave. I promise they won't all involve Randy Orton, nor will they all be set in the past. It just so happens that the first two wrestling stories I've published here have had some common denominators.

I would absolutely love any feedback from you guys as this is certainly something new for me in terms of the pairing, the set up, the storyline, even some of the characters. So, please, let me know what you think.

And, finally, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

January 26th, 2009

Leaning his head back against the wall, Randy cursed the trainer for keeping such a cold, clinical room. His arms were dappled with gooseflesh and the lights above him were far too bright for his liking - there was nothing good that came of being in a trainer's room. The last time he'd been in one had been a few months back, when he'd been informed that he'd broken. No - that Hunter had broken his collar bone. Closing his eyes, he sighed. It always came back to Hunter, didn't it?

Truthfully, he didn't even know why he was here – Shane had caught him off guard, yes, but he was out of shape and out of practice and, besides a few well-timed punches, there really hadn't been any need for treatment but the second they had stepped through the curtain, Shane had been whisked off to one room and he to another, Ted and Cody being dragged off by half the roster after they'd come to his aid. They weren't all bad he supposed… and Ted had certainly learned his lesson. Massaging his eyeballs, he wondered where they had gotten to. The last he'd seen they'd been throwing some well-aimed punches at Miz and Morrison as he was stuffed into the trainer's room by the officials but, really, that had been ages ago. Cracking open one eye, he searched for the clock he could hear ticking and, instantly, pushed off the wall into a sitting position. Forty minutes he'd been left here. Forty minutes since the cameras had stopped rolling. Forty minutes too long.

Slipping from the table, he crossed the room, his hand closing on the handle of the door when he heard the heels. Well, he thought, this is quite the turn of events… His lips pulled into a thin smile and he returned to the table, making himself comfortable. The bright lights, air-con and ticking clock all seemed to disappear now he knew who was on the other side of the door, steeling herself to look him in the eye. When the door finally opened, he couldn't help the smirk which crossed his lips.

Her jacket was gone now and her hair was more dishevelled than it had been, but she looked just as she had in the ring: absolutely furious. "So…" she began. "Intermittent Explosive Disorder, huh?" Randy chuckled in response, causing her brow to furrow. "And who came up with that?"

"What does it matter?" It had been Cody's, in truth. He said they'd be so distracted by the lawsuit threat that their shackles would go up and, by the time they got round to actually checking who had really been at fault… Something would be in place. And all he had to do was read from a piece of paper and pretend to be a little crazy.

"Why do you have to make this so difficult?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You punted my father!" He had been waiting for this. In fact, he'd prepared for it.

"You're right - in hindsight, kicking my boss in the head was probably a bad idea…"

The exasperated sigh which escaped her caused his lips to quirk and he struggled not to smile. "Are you even sorry?" His preparation hadn't quite covered this, and the smile was wiped from his mouth almost instantly. He had expected anger, screaming and yelling and, maybe, even a few attempts at slapping him. But to expect an apology... He'd thought she was smarter than that.

"Why'd you get Shane involved?"

"Shane got himself involved. And you didn't answer my question." Her persistence was admirable, he supposed, maybe even one of the things he liked most about her. But now wasn't the time for it.

"Okay - it was…a lapse in judgement. I shouldn't have done it. Happy?"

"Saying you shouldn't have done it isn't the same as being sorry." Randy pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that none of this would end well; nothing he could say would end well for him and this was worth more than his job. "You don't even care that my daughters could have grown up without their grandfather. That I could have lost my dad."

"Cut the dramatics, Steph, it wasn't that serious." And, then, before he could think about what he was saying, he added, "But, for the record: no. Hunter's kids weren't exactly top of my priority list that night."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Admittedly, he thought, that had been another lapse in judgement. "That's what this is about? You punted my father in the head because of Hunter?"

"That's not what I said. I said –" Randy stopped himself from continuing; arguably, what he had said was far worse than what she had inferred and there was really no need to make it any worse than it had to be. Though his head hadn't hurt when he had first come to the trainer's room, it was certainly beginning to now. "Cut to the point, Steph. You didn't have me hauled in here to hear an apology. What do you want?"

Running a hand over his chin, Randy watched her. She still looked tense, her jaw doing that strained thing that it did whenever he mentioned Hunter, but she didn't look quite as angry as she had done earlier. That had been a whole new level of anger for Steph and he'd almost believed her when she'd threatened to fire him.

"I wanted to check up on you," she replied, shifting her weight from one expensive looking heel to the other.

"Your brother really isn't that impressive, Steph. Actually, he's kind of out of shape."

"That's not what I meant." He could see her swallow thickly, knew she was carefully weighing up her words. Just like him, she hated showing weakness. "You didn't reply to my text last night."

"The one you sent while lying next to your husband?" Randy stretched as he got to his feet again, his shoulders popping in a way that told him he'd be suffering the effects from last night's Rumble for days. Another thing to thank Hunter for. "Who was I this time, Steph? Was it Marissa? Your mom?" He grinned as he drew closer to her. "Shane?"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"You think I don't know why you're doing this? That I don't know how much you enjoyed eliminating Hunter last night? That I don't know you attacked my dad to get some sort of rise out me?"

"You think very highly of yourself, Stephanie," Randy replied, his voice even. "I enjoyed eliminating Hunter last night because I hate him. I don't know how much attention you've paid over the years but we have a history. You should ask him about it - I'm sure he'd love to tell you the story. And as for your dad… like I said. Lapse in judgement."

"So this whole thing – it had nothing to do with you and I?" her voice was shrill, now, and he knew she was struggling to keep quiet. It would be so easy to tip her over the edge, to make her really lose it and expose herself to the members of the roster and crew who were still in the arena.

"I thought there was no you and I?"

"Randy…For God's sake…" She raked her hands through her hair, fingers catching on a curl. Impatiently, she tugged, before heaving a sigh. "Your daughter is six months old. You've barely been married two years… You shouldn't be running around behind your wife's back with someone else."

"So I'm the only one running around. Gotcha. Well, if that's all, I've got a nice big bus to get back to and a bottle of Jack that needs finished before the next city." He was not going to be lectured about this again. His hand closed over the handle once more and he turned to look at her as he pulled the door open. "I'll see you next Monday."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Steph snapped, causing him to laugh. Before continuing, however, she lowered her voice, very aware that anyone could be in the corridor. "It's just… you know Hunter and I are…it's complicated." That was always what she said. Complicated. As though that explained everything. As though their marriage hadn't begun with her, drugged and incapacitated in the passenger seat at a drive-through. Randy counted backwards from three: if she spoke before he had counted down, he would stay, but if not… "You know I can't leave him."

"Wrong, Steph. I know you won't." And with that, regardless of his count down, he left.