A/N: Thanks for your reviews again, I loved reading each and every one of them! Here's the seventh chapter (forgive the lateness, I had lots of work to do the past couple of weeks), and I hope you all like it (and like it enough to review, LMAO). Thanks guys, you rock!
P.S. Melissa, I actually wrote the whole Stacy stopping Batista segment pegging Batista as the type of guy who's too lazy to even try putting up a fight with a woman, in short, he thought Stacy wasn't worth the trouble, which is why he backed off. Thought I wouldn't have to explain it to you guys...well, guess I was wrong. So, there's the explanation, I hope you get it now. :)
P.P.S. Cleo Orton, I'm gonna make Stacy jealous alright---but with a different Diva. See, I'd had this idea cookin' for a while now. But anyway, I added Trish into the mix, just for you! Hope you like it. :)
P.P.P.S. Monique-lee16, it's cliched because---cliches are the only fics I'm good at, LMAO! But I'll make an effort to be as original as possible this time. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think! Thankies!
Chapter 7: Convenient Illness
I don't even know why I said "yes" to Randy Orton's invitation, but well, here I am, eyeing myself in my full-length mirror to see if I look good enough for tonight's party at The Harbor Club. White tube top, check. Black jacket, check. Beige corduroy pants (to be safe in case Randy's eyes begin to wander again), check. And finally, black slip-on sandals, check (Randy said I ought to try something other than stilettos. Come to think of it, these sandals are pretty cute).
"No, Lita, I'm not all worried about looking good in front of Randy Orton. Puh-leeze."
My best friend, who was wearing a short, red, long-sleeved lace dress (Li always loved the color red), was unconvinced with my answer. "Yeah, sure, honey. I haven't seen you this nervous since Wrestlemania XX."
"Well, hello, it's The Harbor Club! Of course I gotta look my best. Besides, I might even meet somebody really cute there."
"Are you kidding me? You're already going to the party with somebody really cute."
"Whatever, Li. Anyway, who's taking you to the party, if I'm going with Randy?"
She started blushing. "Well, Dave Batista asked me out, and I said 'yes'."
Excuse me?? Lita and...Dave?!? But that guy's a total asshole, no way would he treat her right! Lita deserves better. Way better. What is wrong with her?
"Is...Dave your secret admirer?" I asked, looking disbelievingly at the humongous bouquet of red and yellow tulips that Mr. Mystery had sent her recently. Dave is sooo not the type who would send a woman such beautiful flowers...he's way too much of an insensitive bastard to even think of doing that!
"Well, no," Li admitted. "I still don't know who the guy is. And besides...how could any woman say no to Dave Batista? He's totally hot."
Excuse me while I puke. "Okay, if you say so. I ought to be going now, Randy's waiting outside. But, Lita..."
"Yeah?"
"Take care of yourself." I don't trust Batista at all...I have this nagging feeling that something bad might happen to Li tonight. I hope I'm wrong, I really do.
The above mentioned nagging feeling refused to go away as I met Randy Orton in the parking lot.
"Well...you look good." Randy was standing by his black Corvette when he saw me walking towards him. He's been considerably nicer to me since the whole Batista thing.
"Uh, thanks, I guess. You're not so bad-looking yourself."
He straightened out his white polo and smoothed his black tailored pants. "Of course I'm not. I'm Randy Orton, I always look totally irresistible," he proclaimed, smiling. Well, some things just never change.
"So are we going to this party or aren't we?"
"Don't get your panties in a twist, girl. Step inside," he said, and opened his car door for me.
Ever remember what the first party you've been to was like? I remember mine. I was around sixteen then, and it was a pretty wild sight: there were people getting wasted everywere, a number of students were passed out on the floor, boys and girls making out (and doing even dirtier things) left and right. Now, I tried to act as cool as possible as I stepped inside the venue where that one party was held at (it was at a fellow student's house. His parents were away for a business meeting) in order to impress my then-boyfriend, the school's star quarterback; but deep inside, I was scared as hell.
The Harbor Club party seemed to be giving off a similar vibe, only it was much more posh here. Champagne instead of beer, quality cigars instead of cheap cigarettes which some kid stole from the nearby store, the men gaped at professional strippers instead of horny boys staring at the school's resident sluts (despite what nasty things the jealous anti-Stacy female fans may say about me, I never was, am NOT, and never will be a slut), and there were still couples making out left and right. I wasn't really scared about the party this time around, but I still disapproved of things like this. They're just not my thing, you know? But not like I'd want to look like a total square in front of Randy Orton and be subject to his merciless ridicule.
"Good party, huh?" Randy remarked as he flashed his trademark smarmy grin.
"I guess so."
We sat ourselves down at this big table where most of our other friends were: Christy, Victoria, Shelton, Gail, Shane Helms (a.k.a. the Hurricane), Nidia, Lilian, Maven, Chris Jericho, Chris Benoit, and many others.
Christy walked over to Shelton's end of the table and tugged at his tie. "Oh, I just love this song! Can we dance, Shelton, pretty, pretty, pretty please?" Sometimes I wonder how many cups of espresso she can finish in one sitting.
"Sure, dollface," he replied, and let her lead the way to the dance floor while the rest of us looked on.
"Score one for Shelton Benjamin," Maven sighed. "Lucky dog."
Then he felt someone elbowing him, and turned to face Nidia. "Hey, Maven, wanna dance with me?"
Maven grinned like a kid at Christmas. I suppose he's the type who doesn't score with the Divas often. "Sounds awesome, let's go!"
Not too long after, everyone was dancing up a storm, and the only ones left at our table were me, Randy, Lilian, and Benoit. The latter two sat on opposite ends of the table, Chris staring blankly at the drink set in front of him while Lilian looked longingly at where everybody was dancing. I leaned over to whisper into Randy's ear. I just love playing matchmaker! It's one of the little joys I experience while working in the WWE, and Chris and Lilian just seems absolutely perfect for my next project.
"I see a potential couple here just waiting to be paired up," I told him excitedly.
Randy turned the slightest shade of pink. "Who, us?"
"What?" I smacked him at the back of the head. "No, you moron!! I meant Chris and Lilian!"
"Oh," he replied stupidly. "Yeah, them. Okay."
Clearing my throat loudly enough for both Lilian and Chris to hear, I took Randy by the arm and stood up. "Me and Randy are gonna go get some more drinks at the bar. Come on Randy, let's leave these two alone to themselves."
"We will?" I gave him a second smack behind the head. "Oh yeah, we will. See you guys!"
I sat at the bar next to Randy, looking around at everyone who was there. Oh, so there's Lita. And there's Batista, too, with an arm around her waist. She waved hello---or perhaps that was goodbye, as she and Dave were on their way out. I waved back, and when she wasn't looking, I gave Dave the best "hurt-her-and-you'll-never-live-to-see-another-day" glare that I could muster, but he just ignored me and walked on, squeezing Lita even harder.
Randy, on the other hand, was fixated on a certain Diva "shaking her thang" in the middle of the dance floor: Gail Kim. He continued drinking in the sight of her even as another Diva tapped him on the shoulder.
"Randy baby, why don't we get to know each other better---way better---on the dance floor? Come on, sexy, it'll be fun," Trish Stratus urged, trying to sound seductive, although that annoying helium voice had the opposite effect.
"Get your piggy little hands off him, Trish," I said, eyeing her menacingly. For your information, I was NOT being possessive of Randy, but I'd shoot myself and then jump off a building if I found out that that witch had gotten hold of Randy. It's for his own good.
She returned my venomous glare before looking back at Randy. "Come on, sweetie, let's dance---"
Randy shook her off. "Didn't you hear Stacy? No? Then let me repeat it for ya, loud and clear: go the hell away, Trish. I got better things to do."
Feeling a little more than insulted, she took off angrily, and dragged her man-bitch Tyson instead towards the dance floor. I was impressed: that's the first cool thing I'd seen Randy do, ever. "Touché, Randy, touché."
"She ain't worth my time. Now that chick right there," he said, looking towards the middle of the dance floor, "she's the one I wanna dance with."
I followed his gaze and saw Gail Kim continuing to wiggle and gyrate in her little white dress amidst everybody there. "Oh, I see."
"Think I should go for her?"
"Uh..." I paused for a long while. Now, Gail's an alright person, in fact she was one of my closer friends in the Diva locker room. But, I don't know...something in me didn't want Randy to leave my side. I have no idea why I'm feeling this way, normally I wouldn't even care about who Randy was with! Oh, what is this feeling?
But before I could even tell Randy what I thought about him and Gail, he had already bolted towards the dance floor. Oh, well.
My focus was now directed towards the table where Randy and I were seated a while ago. Chris and Lilian were still there, and still looking in opposite directions, only this time, Lilian would glance his way occasionally. She looked at me for encouragement, and I gave her a big grin and two thumbs up. She smiled and nodded at me before walking over to Chris, and I moved in a bit closer to hear better.
"Hi," she greeted him coyly.
"Hey."
"Uh, you...wanna dance?"
He stood and smiled at her. "Okay." Then he took her hand in his and they walked together to where everybody else was dancing. Aww, that is sooo sweet. Perfect timing, too, as a slow dance had just begun. Dancing right next to them were Gail and Randy: she had her arms around him as they gazed into each other's eyes. All of a sudden I felt...I dunno, jealous of Gail.
I hurried towards where they were and tugged at Randy's collar. "Randy, I feel sick," I lied. "Could you drive me home?"
"Aww, Stace, you're ruining the moment here," he hissed.
"Please, I feel really sick."
"Ah, fine." He let go of Gail reluctantly. "Sorry, babe," Randy told her. "Maybe some other time."
We had now reached my house. It was pretty dim; aside from the moon, the streetlamps were the only things lighting the street. Randy had an arm around me as he led me to my front door.
"Thanks again, Randy."
"No problem. Are you sure you'll be alright?"
Well, I wasn't sick to begin with. "Yeah, I'll be fine. You know, I had a nice time tonight." I smiled at him.
"Me too," he replied, smiling back. "I'll be seeing ya next Monday; take care of yourself, alright?"
"Okay."
We stood around quietly, not knowing what next to do. I really wanted to kiss him at that moment, but I stopped myself from doing so and instead, I high-fived him. We bid each other good night, and as I watched him drive away, the feeling of loneliness began to wash over me. I really don't know where I stand with Randy: part of me really wants to be with him, and the other wants to keep distance, because somehow, it still felt wrong for me to be romantically involved with Randy Orton. After all, this was still the guy whom I not too long ago hated with every fiber in my body. But still...he was being such a sweet guy tonight...
Oh, well. Guess it's another night alone for poor old Stacy Keibler.
A/N: Well, that wraps it up for Chapter 7! Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out whether Stacy's gonna keep spending all her nights alone despite her newly-discovered feelings for Randy, what Randy's gonna do about it, and what Lita and Dave are up to while all this is happening. 'Till then, see ya! Don't forget to review and tell me how you liked (or didn't like) it!