A/N: Finally, Chapter 9! Forgive the lateness (again), the bug held me back. Anyway, things take an interesting turn in this chapter between Stace and Randy...read on to find out what!

(P.S. Congrats, MAVSFAN, for being the 100th reviewer! I'm so happy...reaching the one hundred mark is a dream come true for me!!! Continue to show the love, and I'll continue to pour my loive into these painstakingly-slaved-over-chapters! Thank you all!!!)

Chapter 9: Unscripted (Stacy's POV)

The days that have led up to this Sunday have been spent mulling over my situation with Randy. I've found it absolutely impossible to stop thinking about him, so I finally caved in.

I think…that…I'm in love. With Randy. Orton.

And it absolutely sucks.

Feeling this way about me leaves me subject to at least one of three things: self-degradation, humiliation, and ridicule. I mean, of all people, it just had to be Raaaandy. Formerly-my-very-worst-enemy Randy. Egocentric-selfish-and-pompous-bastard Randy. Sweet, kind Randy…oh, no!

"What do I do?"

Li, seated in front of me on her comfy red sofa, rested her chin on her hand and pondered my query. We were spending the sunny afternoon just chilling at her house and talking about last week's Seattle party. My jaw had been hanging open earlier on as she told me about everything that had happened to her there, from what Batista had (almost) done to her in the parking lot, to the arrival of her unexpected hero, Shane Helms (who, at the moment, left the house to get us some Ben and Jerry's ice cream), and finally, Shane's shocking revelation (it had been him all along? I still can't believe it!). But ever since Shane, Lita's life had taken a turn for the better. She had someone to be there for her all the time, someone to protect her from Dave, and for the first time in a very long time, Lita was truly in love. I felt so happy for her.

Then we started talking about me and my situation, and that's how we led up to this point, wondering what I should do about my persistent feelings for Randy.

"This won't be easy, Stace, but I think the best thing for you to do is to tell him."

"Tell him? Are you nuts?"

She sighed. "I didn't say it would be easy. But come on, Stace, do you think you'll be getting over your feelings for Randy anytime soon?"

"…No."

"Well, there's your answer for you."

Damn. She had a point. "I guess you're right, Li. Okay, I'll tell him later tonight." What have I got to lose?

Monday night came all too soon. I sat all alone in our shared locker room, anxiously wringing my hands. They felt as cold as ice. My gaze was locked on the doorway, waiting, just waiting, for Randy to arrive. I'd rehearsed my plan over and over again in my head the entire day: I'd play my part as the best manager/valet ever tonight, in hopes of impressing him, and then right after his match, we would be all alone together in this very locker room. And then I'd confess. It was a picture-perfect plan.

Sending my heart about twenty feet into the air was the sound of the door bursting open.

Well, well, if it isn't Randy Orton himself. "Hey, Stace, what's up?"

I've been having sleepless nights this past week all thanks to you, that's what's up. Maybe I'd be better off if you were still a jackass. At least then I wouldn't be so crazy about you. "Oh, hi Randy."

"Okay, here's the deal," he said, sitting beside me on the white couch. "You've gotta be at the top of your game tonight, because this match could either make or break me."

I leaned in and listened attentively.

"My match tonight is a tag-team match: me and Benoit versus Triple H and Batista."

"Just a tag match?"

"No, see, there's a little stipulation at the end of it. If my team wins, I get a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship on the following Raw." His eyes gleamed like a kid at Christmas. "If my team loses, however, I'll never get a title shot ever again in my life. And I just can't let that happen." He desires that title with such passion that I wish I were that title belt.

"Okay," I told him, nodding. "If you want that title so bad, I'll make sure you score the win tonight."

"Thanks, Stace. I knew I could count on you." He smiled at me. "Hey, I gotta get ready for my match and discuss my strategy with Chris. See you later, okay?"

"Sure."

As the door closed behind him, leaving me by myself again, I walked over to the mirror and checked my outfit from head to toe (Lita had helped me to pick out an outfit for tonight). My hair was perfectly blow-dried and curled just right, my diamond chandelier earrings, necklace, and bracelet all matched, my short, glittery black asymmetrical dress looked good on my tall and slender frame, and I was wearing my favorite black stiletto sandals (you can never go wrong with stilettos, that's what I always say). I looked pretty good, if I may say so myself. After all, "dress to impress" was the motto of every Diva here (except maybe Molly Holly).

Tonight was the night. No way would I allow myself to screw up. Randy was sure to win the title shot he so desires tonight…and hopefully I'm going to win over my Randy tonight as well.

"Stacy!"

"Huh?"

Looking behind me, I saw Lita walking in through the doorway and closing the door behind her. "Aww, hon, you look great! I'm sure you won't be having any problems scoring with Randy tonight."

I blushed pink. "You really think he likes me back?"

"Yeah," she replied, placing an arm around me. "I'm your best friend, Stace, I know these things."

A knock came on the door. "Miss Keibler," came the familiar voice of the backstage director. "You and Randy are up next."

"Alright," I yelled back. I turned to Li. "Well, it's showtime."

Li gave me a reassuring pat on the back. "Go get 'im, girl. Me and Shane will be rooting for you backstage."

I caught up with Randy and Benoit right behind the black curtain. "Hey, guys!"

Randy smiled at me as Chris waved hello. "You look…beautiful, Stace," Randy told me. I felt myself blushing to the roots of my blow-dried hair.

"Thanks, Randy. By the way…can I talk to you? Later after the match, in our dressing room?"

"Yeah, sure…but what for?"

Before I could even get a chance to reply, the loud guitar riff of Randy's theme song started blaring from the loudspeakers.

"Let's go, you two," Benoit called out as he led us towards the ramp. "We can't screw this one up."

As Randy squared off against Triple H, I had successfully started a "Randy! Randy!" chant with the audience. It's kinda funny, if one would remember how I hated the fans for chanting "Randy! Randy!" a few weeks ago when we had just started our romance angle.

At this point in the match, Randy tagged Chris in at the same time that Triple H tagged Batista in. The crowd was a hundred percent behind Chris, and for a while he took control, but that behemoth Dave eventually gained the upper hand. I couldn't stand it. My blood began to boil. I still hadn't forgotten what Li told me last Monday.

I had the nagging urge to strangle every ounce of life out of Dave Batista for what he did to my best friend, Lita! Unfortunately, I'd risk getting fired and then imprisoned for murder, so I did the next best thing: climb into the ring and smash a steel chair behind his head while the ref wasn't looking. Man, did that feel good!

Chris, who was rather worn out at this point, managed to drag himself to Randy's corner and make the tag while Batista still lay on the floor, barely conscious. He went for the pin. 1…2…3…Randy and Chris win the match! I couldn't be happier for them. Now there's one last thing I gotta do tonight.

Setting down the chair in my hands, I climbed up the steel steps to get in the ring and congratulate the two of them---but before I could do so, somebody beat me to it.

A livid Triple H managed to get hold of his beloved sledgehammer…and every wrestling fan knows something bad's about to happen when you put Triple H and a sledgehammer together.

"RANDY, BEHIND YOU!"

My warning came too late. Trips managed to clock Randy in his lower back, sending him to the floor. Benoit, who tried to make the save, got sucker-punched in the gut by the now-fully-awake Batista for his efforts. Why did I get the feeling I wouldn't be able to persuade Batista to stop this time?

I could only look on in horror as the two goons form Evolution started double-teaming Randy. Ever had anyone tell you wrestling is fake? Well, they lied. So maybe most of the time it doesn't hurt as much as it looks, but it does hurt. And this time, it was pretty safe to say that they weren't faking their beatdown on Randy. This wasn't even in the script!

"Security! Medics! Somebody help!"

Five seconds later, the first people I saw come down to help were Lita and Shane, followed by at least a dozen paramedics and security guards. Shane was first to pull away Batista from Randy. Turning around to see who was interfering, Batista's face met with Shane's fist. Yeah! Go, Shane!

The security guards eventually managed to hold back both Triple H and Batista while the EMT's and paramedics gave Randy and Chris immediate medical attention. Randy was bleeding buckets, and I was damn worried.

"It's okay, hon, it's okay," Li said, also holding me back as I tried to struggle free and kick Triple H and Batista's asses. Hot tears were streaming down my face.

"You assholes!" I yelled to them. "I'll never forgive you!"

They only laughed at me. I sank to my knees and buried my face in my hands, still sobbing hysterically.

This was how tonight's Raw ended: Paramedics were carrying away an unconscious and bleeding Randy Orton on a stretcher, while his tag-team partner Chris Benoit followed closely behind. In the middle of the ring, Randy's onscreen girlfriend Stacy Keibler was crying her eyes out and being laughed at by two dickheads from Evolution. It is at this point where your TV screen fades to black for the end credits.

Was this how my story would end? I honestly don't know. I do know that tonight I had been robbed of my chance to finally confess to Randy my true feelings for him. Would I ever get that second chance?

Well, I don't know the answer to that one, either.