A/N: It was Torrie's 30th Birthday yesterday (27th July). Weee. I wanted to update yesterday but this crappy laptop I'm using died on me... Doh! Please read and review. Thanks!

Oh, so it was her anniversary... That would explain why she was so eager to see Peter this morning and that would also explain why there were all dressed up and hanging out in a nightclub although they had to leave early the next morning.

"What an idiot am I..." sighed John. He saw her this morning and yet he failed to congratulate her. It was nice of Joy to have thrown a party for Torrie, but she didn't look as if she was in the mood... She was probably missing poor Peter who was in hospital.

"What's up John?" Paul Wight asked worriedly as he gulped down his drink in no time, his large hand almost crushing the shot glass he held.

"Nothing Show," John replied, he was used to calling Paul 'Big Show'.

"Why do you look so tense?" he asked some more.

"I'm not," John lied, his eyes fixated on the table across his where Torrie sat, crowded by her girl pals, joking, laughing, chit-chatting and whatnot. He noticed how she was forcing herself to smile and enjoy the party her friends had so thoughtfully thrown, although Peter was there, there was something else that caused her sadness.

John would have gone over there, but she was surrounded by the girls of Smackdown and some from RAW that should've left by this morning… It would be too awkward for him to loiter around there, not that he had anything to say of course. Today was miserable and filled with silence, from the bathroom incident this morning to the time he drove Torrie to and from the hospital, he could've sworn her heard little sobs in the car on the journey back. He didn't dare to ask why, he hated seeing women cry. It always caused a lump and a sudden dryness in his throat, knots would suddenly appear in his stomach and his heart would seize and burn. Surely not a manly thing…

Stacy Keibler and Joy Giovanni were attempting to drag Torrie on to the dance floor. Torrie shook her head, clearly not wanting to, but the girls eventually managed to get her to leave her seat in the V.I.P room.

John approached the balcony that towered over the entire club, there he saw the girls dancing with a few guys, Torrie was nowhere to be seen. He then spotted her by the bar, chugging down a shot of Vodka, seeing by the numbers of empty shot glasses, this was her fifth shot. The neon blue lights shining on her as her silver sequined mini-dress glittered in the darkness.

Gorgeous.

"You're not supposed to think that…" he muttered under his breathe. But he couldn't deny how lovely she looked tonight. She always looked great, but tonight was different. She looked even better than she did this morning in the toilet when she was…

"John!" yelled a voice as a hand slapped his back. John spun around to see who had startled him, it was Randy Orton.

"Man, where were you this morning?" he asked. "Me and Mark were waiting for you down at the café… what happened?"

"Oh I overslept…" John lied as he concentrated on Torrie.

"I called you this morning but someone else picked up… A woman?"

"I don't think so, you must've had the wrong number…"

"Yeah probably…" replied Randy, wondering what John was staring at so intently… and then he spotted her. "So what happened between you and Torrie last night then?" John turned around spotting a cheeky look on Randy's annoyingly cocky face.

"Nothing, I took her to her room…" he lied.

"Are you sure?" Randy nudged. "It looked quite strange, the way you were handling her. Didn't really give off a good impression…"

"Randy, I don't need your shit right now, ok?" John spat. Randy backed off with a shrug.

"Asshole…" muttered under his breath, his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaving John to stare away. John watched Randy disappear into the crowds and when he turned back, Torrie was gone. He scanned the crowd on the dance floor intensely, it seemed to be more crowded than last time, only because Torrie was there…

He saw her, surrounded by sex-starved savages, she had jerks bumping and grinding against her from every angle, their filthy hands roaming freely, and groping every part of her body… she didn't seem to mind though, actually, she wasn't even aware of this… She was most certainly drunk, she couldn't even stand upright, she fell every few seconds and the guys pushed and shoved her as they liked. She laughed rowdily as John's blood boiled just from watching her afar. He clenched his fists in resentment, his eyes targeting on this guy who thought he could take her home. He whispered something into her ear, which she giggled to. John didn't even need to get down there to start up something, the guys were already throwing punches at the loser as Torrie drunkenly crawled on the floor before another ass clown picked her up and literally carried him over her shoulder and attempted to leave like that. Stacy was too caught up in Randy to notice her best friend being 'abducted', Joy, Michelle and Melina screamed as they saw the guy take Torrie away… as if that helped…

"Here we go…" John muttered as he raced downstairs and blocked the entrance before the guy could even reach there, he fought off other men with a punch which sent them flying whilst Torrie dozed off…

"Where do you think your going?" asked John as he gave this idiot a death glare.

"None of your business," he spat, brushing past John. This guy was about the size of Batista, but fatter, slightly shorter, much more hairier and classless. John wasn't afraid though. He quickly and skillfully pulled Torrie from the guy's clasp and lay her aside before throwing a punch at the back of the guy's head before he could even turn around to see what had happened. A simple jab to the back had already knocked him to another dimension, he dizzily spun around before receiving another one in the eye. He was out.

Thud.

His fall created a loud sound and caused people to look over and see what happened. The horny bastards saw what John had done and backed off cowardly. He picked up Torrie and left for the car park. He hurried to his car with Torrie asleep and in his arms once again, he sped behind the building and leaned her against the wall as he rummaged his pockets for his keys.

"I miss him…" she sobbed. John paused as he turned to her, she was crying. "He's gone…"

"What? Who's gone?" he asked, kneeling on the ground, in front of her, she then leapt forward and embraced him tightly.

"Peter," she sobbed.

"He's still here Torr," John assured her, though he was slightly confused. What did she mean by gone?

"He's been r-released…" she choked, now sobbing even harder.

"I'm sorry," John apologized as he tightened the hug.

"Don't be," she laughed loudly, breaking the hug before falling on to the pavement. "You saved me! That was funnnn!"

She was so drunk.

"Get up," he said, helping her up. She slowly rose before throwing herself onto him and pecking him on the lips.

Mark arrived late, he was held up by a distraught Maven, complaining about the WWE. He only wished to greet Torrie and then leave.

He entered the club, some fat loser was unconscious on the floor as security tried to get him out. Mark shook his head as he looked at the dance floor for anyone he knew. Randy stood out the most as he was half a head taller than most guys and he was the only idiot who went clubbing in an Armani suit.

Idiot.

Mark slowly approached Randy who seemed to be dancing with someone, Trish probably. As he brushed past people he had girls pinch him in places, aching for some loving, but Mark was in no mood, nor did he have any time for it. He was desperate for a good night sleep more than a woman, the woman he had wanted was married after all and some say she was getting friendly with John Cena…

"Randy..." called out Mark as he tapped his shoulder, Randy turned around breaking the kiss he had shared with someone… it wasn't Trish though, it was Stacy…

"Man what the hell?" Randy shrieked, shoving Mark off. "I'm a little busy!"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" reminded Mark.

"Screw you man!" cursed Randy as he grabbed Mark by the scruff of his collar, his breath stank of alcohol, Mark cringed. "Mind your own business…" He pushed Mark to the floor as everyone gasped. Mark sprang back up instantly, straightened his shirt and left. He wanted to hit Randy so hard, but he didn't want to embarrass Randy in front of all these people, to save him some face. Mark had class and he knew how to get at Randy, attacking someone physically is not always the most painful alternative, Mark had something in mind that would cripple Randy, demoralize and ruin him.

"So this is the end of our friendship…" Mark smirked as he left the club. Randy was going to be sorry.

It was the longest three minutes ever. It time stood still as John and Torrie were engaged in a lip lock and he was thankful for it. Having a guilty conscience, John broke apart, knowing it was wrong but he couldn't explain the bliss that he was in. Having been so close to her like that made his entire body tremble and fill with goose bumps, the scent of her alluring perfume just tantalizing his nostrils, the sting that she left on his lips wanted to make him crumble to his knees and the stare she was giving him made him want to smother her with kisses… he didn't have to because she was already doing so.

She nibbled gentle on his neck, trailing upwards, working her way slowly to his lips before planting the kiss of death. John shut his eyes as he allowed her to torment him with this heaven. He knew he was going to be guilt-ridden the next day, but he didn't have enough will power to stop her. Then he felt her hands creep up his back, bringing forward her arms to wrap around his neck. She brought him closer to her, her irresistible lips drawing closer to his.

Stop before it's too late.

It was already too late, she suffocated him with a powerful kiss and by that time, John was already defenseless, he just savored the moment and returned the kiss with equally as much passion. The two broke apart in unison, both trying to catch their breaths.

John could barely regain himself. He could've sworn Torrie had said something but the rapid pounding of his heart drowned out all other sounds. He was still speechless though delighted, he scratched at the back of his neck uneasily before casting glance over at Torrie. She approached him.

No, not again…

As much as he wanted it, he didn't want to do something he'd regret or that she would hate him for. If he ever did take advantage of her, Peter would come running after him with a meat cleaver broken hip or not! Then, she collapsed onto him, her head resting on his shoulder as John clung to her with his life. She was out.

What a way to end the night, he was sort of glad that she had passed out without him having to push her away and rejecting her kisses and most probably hurting her feelings, although he would probably have to hang himself for declining a kiss from Torrie Wilson. He helped her into the car and fastened her seatbelt before pulling one of his sweaters from the back and wrapping it around her. He climbed into the seat of his car with a grin.

What a night.

What a night it was indeed…