"You don't have to sleep on the floor, Dave. It is your room, after all."

Trish knelt on the bed and watched as a blanket and pillow were dropped to the floor. She was tired, and more than a little bit annoyed. If Shane and Stephanie were going to start something in the hotel, they should have warned her. She had been expecting the news that her reservation had been cancelled. She had also been expecting the run-in with Stacy Keibler. She'd been in far too many scrapes with the leggy blonde to not know that she wasn't going to let things easily lie. What Trish didn't expect, however, was for Randy, Shane and Stephanie to be with her when she came looking for trouble.

By the time it was all over, Trish was almost positive that she had a few strands of hair missing, and Dave was completely positive that there was no way he was letting her stay alone that night. It wouldn't have been Trish's first choice as a way to start a new business partnership, but if it made him feel better and put her in a position to find out more about him, then she couldn't complain. She could, however, protest at the fact that he so easily grabbed blankets and plopped down on the floor.

In a way, Trish felt somewhat hypocritical. She kept telling herself that she didn't want this to turn into a sexual thing, but at the same time, she was a bit offended by his almost complete disregard for her sexual being. Granted, boxers and a t-shirt weren't exactly lingerie, but she was self-confident and vain enough to think that she could make damn near anything look good. Boxers and a tank top on her should have equated to bra and panties. She didn't want to screw him into the group, but at the same time, she wanted to feel like a woman. Though, she supposed it was virtuous, that he didn't take liberties with her or expect anything in return for his aid, but… it still was a crushing blow to one's psyche… and ego.

"Trying to say something, Trish?" Dave knelt on the floor, then walked on his knees to the end of the bed. His arms fell heavily onto the mattress and he pushed his body forward until half of his chest laid across the sheets.

"No, I am not trying to say something." She rolled her eyes as she sat down on the bed. "I am merely suggesting that since this is your room, it's only fitting that you shouldn't have to sleep on the floor."

"Where else am I gonna sleep, Trish?" He pushed himself up farther on the bed. "I don't think any of the chairs in this room are going to be comfortable enough for me to get some sleep in."

"Didn't you watch television in the 80s?" She rolled her eyes again and slid beneath the covers. "I can't remember what show it was, but… I'd almost bet it was Who's The Boss." She shrugged. "Anyway, I sleep under the sheets. You sleep on top of the sheets under the blanket. Never do the two of us touch. Perfectly innocent, just friends sharing a bed. It has happened before, ya know."

"And I'm supposed to believe…" Dave pushed himself up to his feet, then sat down on the bed. He leaned in towards Trish. "…that the two of us are going to share this bed… this bed that's barely big enough for my shoulders alone… and we'll not touch at all?"

Trish gulped hard. This man was obviously smarter… and more devilish than she had given him credit for. "Yeah," she said, proud of herself for keeping her words free of any stutter.

"Now, you're lying." He leaned in closer. "There's no way that the two of us could share this bed and not touch." Dave snorted a laugh. "You were a science major in college. You know that physics does not allow our bodies to share such a small space. And when we touch, then… you'll either jump and run or things might get a little bit… sticky."

"I do not run." Even as she said it, she knew she was lying. She could count the number of times she ran and run out of fingers. Of course, those had all been different situations. There would be no running because that wasn't part of the bargain. It wasn't how she got her job done. "And trust me, there is nothing… sticky about any of this."

"What's the deal with this, huh?" He pushed in closer, then abruptly stood up. He rose as though yanked by strings. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Hunter. I'm not stupid and I know when there's something going on that's not quite right."

"I didn't say you were stupid, and there is something going on. In case you were out of it downstairs and don't remember the reason you asked me to stay in your room in the first place, I have McMahons and a couple of psychos after me. Out of the goodness of your heart, you came and stopped Shane from going Vince on me. I thank you for it. But, you thinking there are conspiracies or whatever going on is just… well… it's you trying to find an excuse for there to be something sinister going on."

Dave looked at her with his nose crinkled. He knew she was lying, though exactly about what, he wasn't sure. Something had felt wrong about the situation from the moment Trish asked him what he would do for gold. He felt that there was more to that question than was on the surface and maybe, if he scratched a little bit at a time, he would find out what it was.

It did seem like fun, though. Playing whatever game Trish was offering him. Honestly, until he was put in the Royal Rumble, life had gotten boring since his loss to Triple H at the previous year's WrestleMania. He'd gone into that pile of others who had lost their self-respect and spot in the limelight by jobbing to Vince McMahon's favorite little prodigy. Until Bischoff entered him into the Rumble, Dave had been pushing his way back through the ranks, edging past his spot curtain-jerking and, hopefully, making his way back towards the main event. This new adventure with Trish, if nothing else, would bring some excitement back into his career.

"Oh, there's something sinister going on," he muttered as he knelt down on the floor. Dave laid on top of the comforter and stared up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach. "And I'm going to figure it out. But, until I do, I'll play along."

"Why?" Trish asked as she reached over to turn out the light. He obviously wasn't going to take her up on the offer to share the bed, and in a way, Trish was glad. Something about his actions that night made her think that she wasn't going to be able to control the situation as well as she had planned. She knew what game she was playing, but the board he was using… she didn't know if it were Risk or Chutes and Ladders.

"Because," he said with a grunt, "I could use the excitement, and kicking Orton's ass is great practice for when I face Triple H at WrestleMania."

"You're very confident that you'll win the Rumble."

"I did it once, I'll do it again. And this time…" He sighed. "This time, there'll be nothing stopping me from taking that belt out of Triple H's hands and slapping him across the face with the strap like the little bitch that he's become."