Chapter 22 – Gifts and Curses

By Evilution

Disclaimer: I only own Paris and Amanda and nothing else. Good luck getting anything if you want to litigate. Thanks to my friend, Emily, for the Eileen and Ralph comment. Also, the lines from the last chapter about the stolen pajamas are from the movie 'The Mask.'

Paris woke up the next morning feeling stiff and cramped, mostly because she had been so relaxed when she fell asleep that she stayed in the same position all night. Randy was already awake and had showered. He was just zipping up his pants and tucking his shirt in when Paris sat up, stretching languidly.

"Good morning," he said, a secret smile tugging at his lips.

"Morning," Paris replied.

"Listen, Paris, I'm sorry about last night, OK? I just didn't think that it was the best thing at the time, what with all the excitement over your new job and the stuff with your dad and…"

Paris smiled slightly. "It's OK, Randy, really. You and I love each other and I know it's gonna happen. Don't worry…I can be patient for a little while longer."

Randy grinned. "Just a little while?"

"Well, I'm leaving in less than a week."

"That doesn't mean I can't visit you, and you'd best believe I will with Adam Copeland lurking around."

Paris shook her head, blinking at Randy as if he were an impossible little boy. "I thought we settled this last night."

Randy cleared his throat, not wanting to argue with her again. But as he took a closer look at her, he realized she was just teasing.

"So you're not mad?" the Legend Killer prompted.

Paris smiled as she slid out of bed, crossed the room, and gave Randy a kiss on the cheek, deliberately pressing ever inch of her naked body against him.

"No, Orton, I'm not mad," she whispered before skipping off to the bathroom.

Randy exhaled sharply as she left, desperately wishing that he had the ability to kick his own ass. It's only for a few more days, he told himself. He was literally counting the hours until Paris left for OVW and was away from Paul. Then, once she got settled, Randy figured he could visit her, tell her the truth, and hopefully, after she forgave him, they could finally consummate their relationship. He knew that a long distance relationship would be hard, especially with all the temptations that would be surrounding Paris in her new role as a diva, not to mention Adam Copeland. He knew in his heart that they could make it work.

Paris closed her eyes as the hot water coursed over her body. Memories of last night came flooding back. Her fight with Danny had been emotionally draining and not only had Randy been there for her, but he had done everything in his power to distract her from her problems. She couldn't believe that she had told him about her eating disorder. She never told anyone about that. The only people who knew were her parents and Amanda. It was a testament to how much she trusted the young Evolutionary. Too bad she didn't deserve his trust in return. The sex thing was frustrating as always, but Paris hadn't been lying to Randy when she said she wasn't mad. She was too familiar with the routine to be mad. Every time he put her off, she would get upset, they would go to bed, and in the morning, everything was back to normal. Paris wasn't sure she could take much more. Hopefully, the idea of her leaving would spur Randy to action. But Paris didn't want to get her hopes up too high, only to be disappointed and frustrated once again. She had to admit that the possibility did seem more imminent, especially after last night, and that not only gave her hope, but it made her happy as well. Her life was perfect. She was 20 years old, on her own, about to become a WWE diva, and she was the girlfriend of The Legend Killer himself, Randy Orton. It couldn't get much better than that.

An hour later, Paris was at the airport hugging Amy goodbye as the red-headed diva boarded a flight to Raleigh. She was going home to North Carolina without Dave this time to visit her mom and do some volunteer work at her favorite animal shelter. She hated to be away from Dave, but she had been neglecting the shelter ever since her return to the ring and she desperately needed some mother/daughter quality time with her mom.

Paris flew to St. Louis with Randy and Dave and while she expected the next few days to drag as she anticipated her departure for OVW, they went by surprisingly fast. Dave came over for dinner and a movie on Tuesday night, but ended up spending a great deal of time on his cell phone with Amy. A blind man could see that the Queen of Xtreme and the Monster of Evolution were totally and completely falling in love. On Wednesday night, Paris went out clubbing with Randy, Dave, Charlie Haas, and Mark Jindrak, who both lived in St. Louis as well, and were friends with Randy and Dave from their OVW days. John Cena had also been invited since the SmackDown stars were also on their days off, but he had chosen to go to Louisville to visit his girlfriend, Katie—the OVW designer.

On Thursday morning, Randy got a call from Cena, requesting that the Legend Killer pick him up at the airport. Apparently, things were not going well in the long distance relationship between Katie Carlisle and John Cena, and the Doctor of Thuganomics chose to come home a day early. Paris went with Randy to the airport and Cena ended up spending most of the day at Randy's house, but he didn't seem to want to talk about his woman problems. That night, John went with Randy and Paris to Randy's parents' house for dinner. Paris finally got to meet Bob and Elaine Orton, as well as Randy's sister, Becky, who was the same age as Paris, and his brother, Nathan, who was still in high school. She also got to meet his grandfather, who took an instant liking to her. In fact, Randy's entire family was very impressed with Paris. Bob and Elaine found her to be polite and intelligent, a perfect match for their son. She hit it off amazingly well with Becky, whose stories about all the boys and frat parties at the University of Missouri made Paris wax nostalgic for her days at UNLV. Becky was a sophomore, going to school on a volleyball scholarship. Imagine her surprise when she found out Paris had played volleyball for UNLV. Nathan was in every sense, a typical teenager, teetering on the edge of manhood. He displayed a somewhat casual, teenage cockiness and tried to act unaffected by his older brother's success, but he continued to badger Paris to introduce him to Trish Stratus, Lita, and Stacy Keibler, even though Randy told him that he had known all three women for several years. It seemed as if Paris fit in just right with Randy's family.

However, the star of the evening was without a doubt, none other than John Cena. Obviously, Elaine and Bob had met John before as he was one of Randy's best friends and they were somewhat used to his antics. Upon their arrival, he promptly told Elaine very lasciviously that Randy never told him that he had two younger sisters. Elaine giggled girlishly and slapped his arm, calling him Jonathan and telling him to stop. Throughout the evening, Cena took every opportunity to flirt with Elaine, until Randy demanded that he cease and desist, saying that he felt like Stifler in 'American Pie' trying to keep Finch away from his mother. Of course, even Randy calling him 'shit break' didn't deter John. Bob simply sat back and watched the scene with amusement, declaring that boys would be boys. When they left, Paris thanked Bob and Elaine for a lovely evening and promised to visit again. Randy was busy trying to distract John, so that the Doctor didn't try to cop a goodnight hug from his mom. However, John was sneaky and managed to corner Elaine for a quick hug and kiss before Randy chased him out the door and tackled him the front yard.

The next morning, Paris flew to Fargo, North Dakota with Randy and Dave where they met up with Paul and Amy for the start of the weekend house shows. On Saturday, they would be in Bismarck, North Dakota and on Sunday—Paris' last night—they were in Peoria, Illinois. The rest of the RAW roster would be driving to Chicago for RAW on Monday, September 29th, and Paris would be flying to Louisville, Kentucky. The SmackDown roster was in Manitoba—Chris' hometown—on Saturday and Sunday, Valparaiso, Indiana on Monday, and then, they were taping SmackDown on Tuesday in Milwaukee.

After the show on Friday, Shane gave Paris a bunch of paperwork to fill out for her transfer to OVW, so she stayed in for the night to work on it, while Randy went out with Dave, Amy, and Paul. Paris was asleep by the time they got back, so she really didn't have a chance to spend any intimate time with her boyfriend, much to her chagrin. Of course, it was nice feeling Randy snuggle up next to her in bed, but before she could make a move, he was sound asleep.

The next day, they got up extremely early and drove the two hundred and some miles to Bismarck for the Saturday house show. Amazingly, it wasn't snowing, but September in North Dakota was unusually cold, colder than any of them were used to and there was some snow on the ground and blowing across the roads, causing icy conditions in some areas. Randy drove with Amy in the front seat since it never failed that the extreme diva always got car sick when she had to ride in the back. Paris, who was still exhausted and had a headache from reading all of her paperwork, stretched out in the backseat of the Durango with her feet draped across Dave's legs and her head on Paul's lap. This didn't please Randy, but unfortunately, he wasn't in a position to do anything about it, having to keep his eyes on the road. When they got to the hotel later that afternoon, Paris was cornered by Amy, Trish, Lisa, Lillian, Stacy, and Jackie, who all wanted to take her out for a 'girls night out' after the show to celebrate her promotion to a diva. Paris told Randy of her plans and he agreed that it was cool, saying he'd stay in and play cards or grab a movie with Dave.

After the show, Paris showered and changed into her favorite hip hugger jeans, her black Doc Martins, and a tight, low-cut black shirt with elbow length sleeves. The other divas came to pick her up, saying they were going to some place called Pirates of the Lost Cove for a bite to eat and then, Borrowed Buck's Roadhouse for drinks and dancing. As they were leaving, Paul stopped by to join in on Randy and Dave's card game. Naturally, the men's idle chit chat reverted to a familiar subject.

"So, Randy," the Game interjected. "Made any headway on our little wager?"

Before Randy could answer, Dave snorted with irritation, threw his cards down, and rose from the table. God, he just didn't know when to stop. Rolling his eyes, Dave began to walk away, thoroughly sick of hearing about the bet.

"Excuse me," the Enforcer replied, annoyed.

"Where're you going?" Paul asked.

"I'm gonna go take a piss or jack off or something equally interesting," Dave snapped, sarcastically as he exited the room, slamming the door in his wake. Randy wondered where he was going since it was also he and Amy's room.

"What's his problem?" Paul questioned.

"Maybe it was the topic of conversation," Randy remarked mirthlessly.

Paul chuckled. "You didn't think that just because I backed off that I've forgotten, did you?"

"What? You think I'm stupid?" Randy said, smiling sardonically as he studied his cards.

"So what exactly is the scenario here, Randy? You have every opportunity in the world to nail this girl…"

"Be very careful, Paul," the Legend Killer warned, indicating that he didn't appreciate how Paul was referring to his girlfriend.

Paul snorted, but ignored the taunt. "So what gives?"

"Can we talk about something else?"

"No, we can't. Now, answer the question."

"Paris is under a lot of stress right now, OK? She's going to OVW…leaving everyone she knows. Plus, her dad's on her case…"

"About what?"

Randy hesitated, reluctant to share anything personal with Paul, as he always found some way to use it against him. "He wants her to come home."

"Why?"

"Other than he doesn't like me…I don't know why."

"He's never even met you."

"No, but he's already had me checked out…knows about my military shit and everything."

Paul scoffed, not surprised at Randy's naïveté. "Can you blame the guy? I mean, seriously. His daughter's worth several millions of dollars. He can't afford to let some ass clown, as Jericho would say, come in and steal his little girl…and her fortune."

"I'm not after her money."

"He doesn't know that," Paul replied, smirking.

Randy shrugged and then, they were silent for several minutes, both examining their cards, contemplating their next move.

"Hey, Orton," Paul broke in.

"Yeah?"

"I know I'm gonna regret this, but I guess I oughta give you a break. Jesus, I think losing my title to Goldberg has addled my brain. I must be getting senile or something."

"What do you mean?" Randy asked, wary. He hated it when Paul spoke in riddles. It only meant that he was up to something.

"Look, I know you have feelings for Paris and since she's leaving and all…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm not the heartless bastard you all seem to think I am…not all the time anyway. Why don't we just call it a draw, OK?"

"You mean call off the bet?" Randy replied skeptically.

Paul shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? I mean, she's obviously made her choice." He smirked inwardly, knowing that he and Paris still had a couple of secrets between them.

"Jeez, Paul, I didn't know you had it in you," Randy scoffed.

"Orton, I'm wounded," Paul commented with mock hurt, only to receive a derisive snort from the Legend Killer.

"Of course, I'm only talking about after Paris leaves," the Cerebral Assassin went on slyly. "The next 24 hours are fair game."

"I should have known there was a catch," Randy retorted with sarcasm. "But, hey…she's gonna be getting ready for her trip. You probably won't even see much of her."

"Exactly," Paul agreed. "What could happen in a mere 24 hours?" He smirked suggestively.

Randy cocked his eyebrow arrogantly. "Between you and Paris? As if."

Paul laughed. "Wouldn't it be funny though?" he taunted.

Randy ignored him and continued to stare at his cards as Dave rejoined them. He didn't think it was the least bit funny, but then again, Paul's sense of humor left something to be desired as far as Randy was concerned.

"What would be funny?" Dave inquired.

"Nothing," Randy explained. "We just decided to call the bet off after Paris leaves."

"I'm glad to see you're both finally out of junior high," Dave remarked. Nevertheless, he didn't trust Paul any more than Randy did and he hoped that his young teammate wasn't that naïve. Paul wasn't known as The Cerebral Assassin for nothing.

"Raise you fifty," Paul said, throwing some chips on the table.

"Check," Dave responded, matching the bet. "So what about until she leaves?"

"That's still open season," Paul replied. "Sure you don't want back in, big man? It's a hundred bucks."

Dave shook his head, amazed at Paul's arrogance and lack of tact. "Always a catch, right, Game?"

"It's 24 hours," Randy interjected, impatiently. "What could happen in 24 hours?"

"The mind boggles…" Dave said quietly, continuing to shake his head as Paul smirked evilly behind his cards. Dave wondered exactly what in the hell he was up to. If it involved hurting Paris, he would not only have Randy to deal with, but Dave as well.

Unfortunately, Dave didn't have a lot of time to brood about it because he won the hand and the conversation switched back to idle chit chat and macho guy talk. They continued to play until sometime around 2 AM when a knock at the door interrupted a particularly high stakes hand. Randy rose and answered the door to find Lillian, Stacy and Jackie standing in the hallway, looking exasperated, but relatively sober.

"Ladies…"

"We need your help," Stacy interrupted, grabbing Randy by the arm and dragging him into the hallway as Paul and Dave followed suit.

Randy stepped into the hall, only to see Trish and Amy practically holding each other up and Lisa trying to lift Paris off of the floor. All four divas were laughing hysterically and Randy noticed that Paris' coat and shirt were unexplainably missing. Stacy smiled apologetically as she handed Paris' coat, shirt, and purse to Randy.

Randy turned and threw Paris' things into their room, trying not to seem annoyed.

"Why is she in her bra?" he asked.

"Oh, she thought it would be funny to streak from the taxi to the hotel being that it's only 50 below zero outside!" Jackie explained sarcastically.

Randy sighed. "Why did you guys let her get so wasted?"

"It wasn't us," Lillian told him. "It was all the drunk cowboys at Borrowed Buck's that kept buying her shots of God knows what."

Randy shook his head as he leaned down and easily picked Paris up. He carried her into their room and laid her on the bed.

"Sorry, guys—I guess the card game's over."

"Just when I was about to clean you guys out," Paul added.

"I think this one needs to go to bed, too," Dave commented, pulling Amy into the room as she fell face first against his chest.

When Dave grabbed Amy, Trish lost the only thing that was holding her up and almost fell if Paul hadn't caught her. Lillian, who was exasperated with all the antics, promptly bid everyone goodnight and headed off to her room on the upper floor.

"I'll deliver this one to Jericho and let him deal with her," Paul offered, supporting Trish and leading her to Jericho's room a couple doors down.

"Can you two handle her?" Dave asked, pointing at Lisa, who was still on the floor.

"Sure, she's rooming with us anyway," Stacy said as she and Jackie helped Lisa to her feet and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction of Paul.

Randy and Dave waited until they saw the girls enter their room and then, glanced in the other direction as they heard a very loud, very stunned 'What the fuck' from Chris Jericho as Paul dropped the inebriated blond diva into the Canadian's arms and bid everyone goodnight before disappearing around the corner. The boys laughed, imagining Y2J's face, but their mirth was interrupted by Amy, who shoved them both out of the way and made a beeline for the bathroom, where Dave and Randy were greeted with the pleasant sounds of violent retching. Dave shook his head and joined his girlfriend on the bathroom floor where he put a cool washcloth on the back of her neck and held her fiery hair back as she continued to throw up. Randy noticed that Paris was already passed out and he was amazed that she wasn't meeting Eileen and Ralph at that moment as well. That would probably come the next morning, he noted, as he removed her boots and pants, tucked the blanket around her, and crawled under the covers himself. A few moments later, he saw Dave carry Amy effortlessly to their bed and tuck her in as well.

The next morning, Randy awoke before anyone else. After showering, he opened the drapes to see that large snowflakes were falling and several inches had already accumulated on the ground. Paris flinched as the sunlight streamed in and Amy groaned, sticking her head under the covers. Dave snorted with amusement as he got out of bed and started to make some coffee with the complimentary coffee maker. It was still pretty early and the boys knew that Paris and Amy had only gotten a couple hours of sleep and wouldn't be in the best of moods on this bright and snowy morning.

"Oh God…" Paris moaned, sitting up and holding her head.

"How ya feeling, Princess?" Randy asked loudly as he leaned against the wall with his arms across his chest, smirking.

"Like shit!" Paris shouted, which caused her head to hurt and another groan to come from Amy's direction.

"Must have been all the drunk cowboys buying you shots," Randy remarked.

Paris groaned and squinted, trying to focus on her boyfriend so she could flip him off, but when she opened her eyes, her head started spinning and her stomach did the ghastliest flip flops she had ever felt. Before Randy could make a move, she flung the covers off and ran past Dave into the bathroom. Randy quickly followed as he heard the toilet lid slam and Paris began heaving violently. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water just as Dave had done with Amy only hours earlier. He sat down behind Paris and pulled her hair back out of her face. Paris started crying as she continued to heave but nothing came up. Finally, it stopped and she slumped backwards, sitting on Randy's lap as she buried her face in the cold washcloth. Randy leaned back against the bathtub and held her, gently stroking her hair and back as Dave joined them, leaning in the doorway.

"You know its true love when you hold your chick's hair while she pukes," Evolution's Monster told Randy.

Randy laughed softly as he continued to comfort Paris. Amy joined them as well, looking like hammered shit and announcing that she had to "pee like a racehorse." Randy went to pick Paris up, but the soon-to-be diva sunk her nails into his chest, begging him not to move for at least a couple more minutes. He shrugged apologetically at Amy.

"But I've really gotta go," the red-head complained.

"So go," Randy told her. "I promise I won't look."

Amy sighed and did her business as Randy averted his eyes, smirking insolently the whole time.

"I love having to pee with an audience," Amy mumbled as she finished, flushed, and then, sat down on the floor in front of Randy and Paris. She reached over and gently rubbed Paris' back as Dave handed her a cup of strong coffee.

"God, I'm glad it all came up last night," Amy lamented. "Never pass out with it in your stomach—it always haunts you in the morning."

Paris smiled weakly at her friend as Randy stood and helped her and Amy to their feet. Paris flushed realizing that she was standing there in front of Dave wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Of course, he didn't seem to mind and Paris really didn't care at that point either. She just wanted the jackhammer going off in her head to stop.

"I'm never drinking again," she declared.

"That's what we all say," Dave told her.

"But I mean it."

"Why don't you ladies flip for the shower and Dave and I'll get everything packed?"

"Paris can go first," Amy offered. "I need a little more coffee and she looks like she needs it worse than I do."

Dave stroked his goatee, mockingly. "I don't know…you both look like death warmed over."

"Fuck you," Amy said, slapping his arm and causing coffee to spill on him.

"Oww…bitch."

Amy smirked. "You like it, I know. And excuse me, but I think it's you who's my bitch, not the other way around."

Dave smiled, slapping her ass as she ran by. "Sorry, Paris…we'll let you have some privacy."

"Yeah, Amy might be able to pee with an audience and I'm not totally opposed that that either if I really have to go, but I draw the line at community showering."

"She's back to her old self," Randy said as he and Dave nodded sarcastically at each other. He kissed her forehead before both men exited the bathroom.

They didn't have very much time, so Paris quickly got dressed and blew her hair dry while Amy used the shower. Then, she put on a little make-up so she didn't look like a walking corpse. Her warm coat and sunglasses to block out the glaring white snow were the finishing touches. The girls brought the last of the luggage downstairs where Randy and Dave loaded it into the warmed-up vehicle. Paul had already left earlier that morning and was probably already at the arena, going over the show. Randy drove very slowly to the airport where their flight was slightly delayed because of the snow. They finally took off and Paris slept the entire flight, her head resting on Randy's shoulder. They landed in Peoria around two o'clock, later than expected because of the delay, and it was starting to snow there, too. They had an early house show, starting at five and lasting until about seven o'clock, so they had just enough time to get to the hotel, get checked in, and freshen up before heading to the arena. Rushing slightly, Randy secured a rental SUV while Dave, Amy, and Paris picked up the luggage.

When they got to the hotel, Paul had already checked them into their room. For some reason, they were in a huge suite with a king sized bed and another bedroom for Paul as well as having another single room with an adjoining door that had its own entrance into the hallway. So essentially they had two rooms. Paul simply shrugged and said that Shane thought Paris might like her own room on her last night. Amy was supposed to be rooming with Lisa, but would probably end up staying with Dave anyway. After they got everything carried into the hotel, Paris noticed that Randy had put his things in the adjoining room with hers and Amy had already taken her luggage to Lisa's room. Paris decided to take another shower and freshened up while everyone packed their gear for the night. She slipped into a black WWE T-shirt and one of the tan miniskirts Colleen gave her. Randy warned her that it was cold out, but unfortunately, all of her khakis were dirty. She had planned on visiting a Laundromat as soon as she got to OVW. Paris assured Randy that it was only a short ride from the hotel to the arena and that the arena was usually hotter than Hades anyway, so she wasn't worried about being cold. He shrugged as she zipped up her brand new pair of knee-high black boots, having to admit to himself that she looked damn hot in that little skirt and those high boots.

After what seemed like forever, they finally met up with Ric and headed to the Civic Center around three o'clock for the house show. Paris quickly got everyone's costumes and started marking the script while Ric went to take care of some things with Eric Bischoff, Amy went to the divas locker room to say hi, and Shane came to get Randy and Dave to talk to them about the show and to go over a few things with Randy about RAW the next night. Paris was concentrating so hard on the script that she didn't even realize that she was alone in the locker room with Paul. Lately, she being alone with Paul was never a very good idea. Things always seemed to happen that she had no control over. It was a strange, rather unnerving effect that he had on her.

"Hey," Paul greeted, approaching her.

Paris looked up and smiled. "Hey, yourself."

"I just wanted to say goodbye to you without everyone hanging around…you know," he explained, uncharacteristically awkward.

"I'm not leaving until tomorrow, Paul."

"I know, but…I got you something."

Paris's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. She loved getting presents, especially from wealthy men. "What is it?"

"Well, first things first…you're gonna have to take off your boots."

"What?"

"Just humor me, OK?"

Paris looked at him skeptically as she bent and unzipped her boots. She kicked them off and stood before him, a good four inches shorter than she was before.

"Close your eyes," Paul ordered.

Paris hesitated slightly, not sure if she trusted him entirely. After several moments, she sighed impatiently and closed her eyes. She could hear him moving around and sensed that he was close to her, but she didn't know what he was doing. She jumped as she felt him touch her leg and then, she realized that he was clasping a bracelet around her ankle. As he stood up, Paul couldn't resist sliding his hand up her leg, feeling its silky smoothness.

"OK, you can look now."

Paris opened her eyes and looked down at her ankle. She expected to see something like a charm bracelet or some other type of trinket. Imagine her shock when she noticed that the item was a diamond tennis anklet. It was tiny and delicate, but definitely stunning and absolutely diamond.

"Oh my God, Paul…I can't accept this."

Paul scoffed. "Don't be stupid…you're allowed to accept gratuity and you've done a good job these last three weeks. It's my way of saying thanks."

She shook her head. "It's just so extravagant."

"It's a trinket really," Paul commented casually. "Beautiful women deserve beautiful jewelry."

"What if Randy sees it?"

Paul smirked, snorting with mirth. "Well, then my suggestion would be, sweetheart, that you put these dominatrix boots back on ASAP."

Paris laughed as she quickly slipped her feet back into her boots and zipped them up, shielding Paul's gift from any prying eyes. As she stood up, she threw her arms around the Cerebral Assassin, hugging him tightly. He was shirtless and she gasped at the sensation of his bare skin against her face.

"Thank you…for the anklet and for being my friend," she whispered, inhaling his scent.

Paul smirked as he hugged her back. As she went to pull away, he bent his head and captured her lips, kissing her softly. Paris kissed him back hungrily, the weeks of being starved for physical attention from Randy finally taking their toll. Paul moved backwards and sat down on the couch, deftly pulling Paris with him in one swift motion, causing her to straddle his lap and forcing her skirt to ride up slightly. Paul ran his hands along her silky thighs, pushing her skirt up even farther. Paris locked her knees at Paul's hips and pressed against him, feeling herself becoming physically aroused. It was the same desire that Randy always ignited in her, building up to a fever pitch but never getting any release.

Throwing caution to the wind, Paris began to grind her hips sensually against Paul, feeling his erection through his jeans. He groaned slightly and broke the kiss to gaze deeply into Paris' eyes before assaulting her lips once again. He pulled Paris' T-shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor, grasping her breasts and letting his fingers trail along the black lace of her bra, teasing her nipples torturously. With one hand, he popped the front clasp on her bra open, freeing her breasts as the bra also fell to the floor. Paris continued to rock seductively against him as he trailed his lips across her chest, his tongue delicately tracing around each of her nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks. Suddenly, Paris jumped, somewhat startled. What if someone walked in?

"Everything OK?" Paul asked, his face still between her breasts.

"The…door?" Paris gasped, barely able to speak.

"It locks from the inside. Anyone wants in, they have to knock."

Paris nodded, relaxing somewhat even though she knew what she was doing was wrong. Paul continued to rain kisses across her breasts, his hands tightly gripping her back. Paris threw her head back as his lips moved up her neck, his teeth lightly nipping her skin.

"Oh God, Paul…please…" Paris whispered feverishly.

Paul looked up. "You want me to stop?"

Paris shook her head no and Paul smirked—a somewhat evil smirk, 100 Triple H. Of course, she didn't want him to stop. She was too busy getting off and he would have bet his last dollar that Randy Orton was the furthest thing from her mind. Paris gazed at Paul, tracing her fingers along his chiseled jaw, pressing her breasts against his chest. He stared back at her, his eyes delving into her soul and for a brief moment, she felt that glimmer of fear that he always seemed to elicit, but she quickly pushed it away. She felt Paul's hand reach between her legs and with a jerk and a snap, he ripped her thong off and threw it on the floor. Paris gasped loudly as his fingers began to probe insistently. She closed her eyes, hearing him inhale sharply as she relaxed the vice-like grip that her thighs had on his hips, allowing him easier access.

"Look at me," Paul ordered, breaking her concentration.

Paris' eyelids fluttered open, her violet orbs meeting his flashing dark eyes. He smirked triumphantly as he pushed two fingers inside of her. Paris began to cry out, but he silenced her by bringing his lips harshly and demandingly to hers. Paris kissed him deeply, moving her hips against his hand as he slowly and then more rapidly thrust in and out of her. Paul released her lips and breathlessly buried his face in her neck as she continued to ride against him, gasping with pleasure.

"Oh my God…Paul!" Paris cried, her voice a choked whisper.

"God, you are so fucking hot!" he murmured in her ear, pausing what he was doing.

"Don't stop!" she demanded feverishly.

"And tight, too…Jesus!" he went on, resuming his erotic torture.

"Oh God!" Paris gasped. "Do you want me, Paul?" she purred seductively.

"Orton's a fucking idiot…if you were mine, I'd fuck you every day," Paul breathed as she reached down and began to undo his pants.

"Promise?" Paris teased.

"Twice…maybe three times," he told her. Deep down, he was kicking himself, hating that she was making him weak, making him want her this badly. He didn't think that there was any way he could lose the bet at this point. In fact, it was almost a sure thing that he was going to seal the deal right now.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Paul."

"I never do."

"Do you want me now?" Paris urged as she pressed against him, tightening her grip on his hips and giving him a hot, lingering kiss.

Paul smirked, ready to not only tell her how bad he wanted to fuck her, but to show her as well. But apparently it wasn't meant to be…not then anyway. Their tryst was rudely interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Paris froze, her body going rigid with fear in Paul's arms.

"What!" Paul shouted, thoroughly annoyed that his plans had been disrupted.

"Dude, it's Randy—let me in," a familiar voice called from the other side of the door.

"Oh my God!" Paris whispered, her eyes growing wide with horror at the thought of Randy walking in on her and Paul. She tried to scramble off of Paul's lap, but The Game sensed her panic and tightened his grip, refusing to let her go.

"Let me go!" Paris hissed through clenched teeth.

"Come on, man!" Randy shouted, knocking louder.

"Keep your pants on, Orton!" Paul yelled back. "I've kinda got my hands full."

With a final smirk, Paul released Paris before rising from the couch, zipping his pants, and striding to the door. Paris barely had enough time to grab her clothes and duck into the bathroom. With a quick backward glance to make sure the coast was clear, Paul opened the door. The Legend Killer stood there, looking irritated.

"Jeez, what the fuck took you so long?" Randy demanded.

"I told you…I had my hands full," Paul replied.

Randy smirked. "Oh, sorry to interrupt while you were wacking off."

"Like I said, my hands were full," Paul retorted sarcastically. If he only knew…it wasn't a matter of Paul pleasuring himself that Randy had interrupted.

Randy rolled his eyes and went to open the bathroom door, but it was locked.

"Sorry, I'll be out in a minute," he heard Paris' voice call.

"Paris?" Randy questioned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Paul. What was Paris doing in here alone with Paul and why did it take Paul so long to answer the door? Inquiring minds definitely wanted to know.

In the bathroom, Paris had already struggled back into her clothes, stuffing her torn underwear into her skirt pocket where she would dispose of it later. She splashed cold water on her face, resisting the urge to throw up every time she looked in the mirror. God, what was wrong with her? She was totally in love with Randy, yet every time she was around Paul, she seemed to lose all semblance of control. What was this hold he seemed to have on her?

"Paris?" Randy repeated. "Are you OK?" Turning to Paul, he lowered his voice. "Exactly what the hell was going on in here?"

Paul laughed incredulously. "Come on, Randy…I was unpacking my gear and she was reading the script. All of the sudden, she said she didn't feel good and ran into the bathroom. Probably all that drinking last night coming back to haunt her. I was about to check on her when you knocked."

"Oh," Randy replied flatly. He decided to take the high road and relent, but he was still wary, not trusting Paul one iota.

"Come on, Orton…in a locker room?" Paul went on, noticing his young teammate's look of skepticism and reverting into his flawless acting abilities. "Give me a little credit, for Christ's sake!"

Randy ignored him and continued to hover around the bathroom door until finally, it opened and Paris emerged, looking a little peaky.

"Those shots coming back, Princess?" Paul asked, giving her a knowing look.

Paris nodded solemnly as Randy put his arm around her and gently rubbed her back. "You OK, babe?" he asked concerned.

"I'm fine," Paris replied. "I…I just think I need to eat."

"Lemme use the facilities and then we'll head down to catering," Randy suggested as he ducked into the restroom.

Paris nodded as Randy closed the door. She paced the room, trying to ignore her feelings of self-loathing as Paul approached her. Paris forcibly resisted the urge to jump away from him.

"You OK?" he whispered, leaning close.

"That wasn't funny," Paris hissed, a little angry.

Paul snorted. "Fun, but not funny," he retorted, smirking.

"I'm fine, OK?" Paris insisted vehemently as she attempted to walk away from him.

"Good," Paul said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her close so that his lips were right against her ear. "Because we will finish this…one way or another."

With that, he released her arm and strolled casually out of the locker room, leaving Paris to wonder if he really was her friend and maybe that he wasn't such a nice guy after all. Dave and Randy had both said that he didn't become Triple H by being nice to people. Paris just hoped that she hadn't let this situation with her and Paul go beyond her control. Despairingly, she knew that it was already out of control and her only hope in salvaging her dignity was to avoid Paul until tomorrow morning when she left for OVW.

Paris was jolted out of her pondering as Randy exited the bathroom and they headed down to catering to have dinner. After eating, Randy left with Dave to rehearse for their tag team match that night and Amy went to practice for her match with Molly. Paul was nowhere to be found and Paris knew that he wasn't wrestling on the card that night, so she wondered if maybe he went back to the hotel. She went into Evolution's locker room and there was Paul, sitting on the couch reading through some papers. He looked up as she closed the door and smirked pimpishly.

"Oh…" Paris began, noticing him sitting there. "Maybe I better go somewhere else…"

Paul smiled, amused by her discomfort. ""Why? Do I unnerve you that much?"

"Look, this…this whatever it is…"

"Lust?"

"Whatever! It's not cool, OK? I…I love Randy and …"

"I know the whole routine," Paul mocked sarcastically. "You love Randy. Right."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Why would I mock you, Paris? There are so many other things I'd like to do to you." He smirked suggestively as she shifted nervously, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Look, I think we should just avoid each other…you have this effect on me…"

"Is that what you really want?" Paul questioned as he rose off the couch and approached her. Instinctively, Paris backed away.

"Why are you being like this, Paul? I thought you were my friend."

"When I want something, I go after it…simple as that. And I always get what I want."

"But why me? I mean, Randy's your friend…he looks up to you. You really should be ashamed of yourself."

Paul chuckled, fingering a wisp of her blond hair. "Shame? Coming from the girl who was on my lap with her legs spread begging for more?"

Paris' eyes widened with shock. "How dare you!" she spat.

Paul eyes narrowed dangerously as he grabbed her roughly around the waist. He was sick of her games and she wasn't going to make him out as the bad guy, like this was entirely his fault. "How dare I? Listen, Princess, you've been encouraging this from the beginning, am I right?"

Paris struggled to free herself from his grip. "I…I…"

"Am I right?" Paul repeated, enunciating each word just to make sure she heard him.

"OK, fine!" Paris conceded. "I encouraged it! But I love Randy! What the hell do you want from me?"

"You know what I want."

"Well, it's never gonna happen so…"

Paul grabbed her arm and leaned close. "I know you didn't just tell me no," he stated, disbelief crossing his face, his voice low and icy.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Paris snapped, jerking her arm away.

"So I take it we won't be finishing what happened this afternoon?"

"No, we won't."

Paul snorted, shaking his head with frustration. "That's just fucking great! You know, Paris, Randy might get off on your little games, but I find them pretty childish."

"What do you want me to say, Paul?" Paris shouted with disbelief. "This is wrong and you know it!"

"Yeah, it's so wrong…I guess that's why you never told me to stop!"

Paris closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a massive headache coming on. "Look, this is pointless to keep arguing over whose to blame—we're both equally to blame. There's a physical attraction between us, but that's all it is. You don't love me and I don't love you, OK?"

"So what happens now?" Paul demanded.

Paris swallowed hard. "I'm leaving for OVW tomorrow…Randy and I are gonna have a long distance relationship until I come back and hopefully, you and I can be friends." She knew she was asking a lot, but it was worth a try. After all, she didn't hate Paul…she just knew that it was wrong, what had happened between them.

"You just have it all painted into a pretty little picture, don't you?" Paul taunted. "Unfortunately, the reality is that you and I are measurably more than friends…and Orton isn't the saint you imagine him to be."

"Paul, please…"

"What, Paris? You think Orton's gonna stay faithful to you while you're gone? Princess, he's 23 years old, handsome, famous, rich…come on! Not that I expect any less from you…"

"What does that mean?"

Paul chuckled. "You're 20 years old, on your own for the first time, totally beautiful and desirable…but not very smart. I give it a week or two before Adam Copeland nails you…I know how he works. You think my morals are in the toilet, Paris…I dare you—I just dare you to play your little games with Adam. I guarantee you'll be put in your place and you may not like how he does it."

Paris opened her mouth to retort, but she was so stunned, no words came out. What in the hell had she gotten herself into?

"A piece of advice though," Paul went on. "OVW's a little rougher than WWE. Be careful you don't tease the wrong guy, Paris…they aren't all as nice as I am."

He quickly captured her lips in a hard kiss, biting her lower lip before releasing her and storming out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.

Paris was shaken by his tirade, but she knew that he was just angry and frustrated because she led him on. She tried to block out his ominous words about Randy, about how he would never stay faithful to her. But even more unsettling were the things he said about Adam Copeland. Paris had just assumed that because Adam was friends with Chris, Trish, and Jay that he was a nice guy. Paul made it sound like he was some sort of predator, just lying in wait to catch a scent of weakness and then, he would pounce. Maybe Paul knew a side of Adam that no one else did. This is ridiculous, Paris told herself, dismissing Paul's warnings as jealous nonsense. He was just trying to scare her because he was pissed off. And as far as things went between her and Randy, she told herself that they would be fine. She would only be in OVW for a couple of months. She and Randy loved each other. They could survive it.

The show went off without a hitch, and after finalizing some last minute preparations with Shane, Paris went back to the hotel with Randy, Dave, and Amy. None of her friends were in the main even that night so they actually got to leave before the show was over. When they got there, it was a little after seven o'clock and their entire floor was in utter chaos as a college football team had checked in for the night due to the snow, and there were several parties going on in various rooms. The din was almost unbearable and Paris actually questioned her and Randy's decision to stay in for the night. However, they decided to stick with that plan since Paris had an early flight in the morning and she had major plans to seduce Randy once and for all that evening. Maybe if they made love, it would send a message to Paul that she meant what she said, that she loved Randy.

Dave and Amy also chose to stay in as did many of the RAW superstars when they arrived at the hotel. It was cold and snowing, and everyone figured that with all the parties going on in the hotel, they could just crash one of those if they wanted to have fun. Dave was exhausted, the house show circuit having its effect on him as he worked off his ring rust. Amy was tired as well, not to mention a bit cranky because she had twisted her repaired neck slightly in her match with Molly. She told Dave apologetically that she wanted to see him later, but that she really needed a nap and since her and Lisa's room was a floor above all the partying, she was going to go lie down there. Dave understood and bid her goodnight, saying he'd see her later. Amy left, telling Paris that she'd be back later and maybe the four of them could watch a movie. After the red-headed diva's departure, Paul emerged from his room and wanted Dave to go check out the parties with him, but Dave tried to beg off, saying he was tired. However, Paul wouldn't take no for an answer, and in the end, Dave followed him out of the room, complaining the whole time that he just wanted to go to sleep.

Paris and Randy retired to the adjoining room where Randy took a shower while Paris got all of her things packed for her flight tomorrow. Randy was pretty exhausted and after his shower, he crawled into bed where he propped himself up and flipped idly through the TV channels, fighting to stay awake. In the bathroom, Paris took a quick shower and covered herself with sexy, shimmering body lotion. She put her favorite perfume in all the right places before slipping into a sexy black thong and an Evolution T-shirt, which she tied in a knot at the waist to show off her legs and her ass. Her thoughts reverted briefly to the ruined thong that she had stuffed in the bottom of the suitcase and her mind replayed the images of how it got ruined, but she quickly pushed those thoughts away, only one goal in sight, and that was to seduce Randy and totally rock his world. After that, anything that had happened with Paul would no longer matter, because she and Randy's relationship would be complete and there would be no more questions. Emerging from the bathroom, she turned off the light and stepped into the room. Randy looked up, his eyes sweeping over her, casually at first and then, more appreciatively.

Yes, the games were over. It was time to seal the deal…once and for all.

Thank you to all of you cheeky monkeys who reviewed, including westlinggal (Hi, Haley!), lunatic-cupid, Kel88,Fidelitas, XtremeDiva22, LyLTiArApRiNcEsS, Cleo Orton, randylover no1, gurl42069, MrsRKOrton, BQuinn, and of course, justagirl8225—I love reviews of all shapes and sizes. I know there are a lot of questions, but it's all gonna come full circle in the next chapter. I hope no one is disappointed in the ending, but I have a feeling some of you might be (sniff, sniff). Fear not, Paris/Randy lovers—there will be a sequel…it's already halfway done. And remember, it ain't over until the fat lady sings. Even though I could stand to lose a few pounds, I can't sing, so enjoy nonetheless. Love ya all.

-Evilution