Blaze of Glory

A/N: To those of you who were irate at the last chapter, I have this to say: Just calm the fuck down for a minute. You know it's not over until the last chapter - anything can happen in my stories, so be patient and have a little faith in the Queen. Have I ever let you down? Come on, now!

Okay - now that I got that off my chest: To Trishaholic, you were right on with your prediction. Normally I don't like it when someone guesses my twists before they happen, but you get a gold star for paying attention and thinking ahead!

Alright, Chuckle Monkies, I got two chapters left - and I don't know who's gonna win at Wrestlemania yet. The angel and the devil on my shoulders are fighting it out at the moment, and I honestly don't know which one is going to get the pin, so we'll all be surprised together! You know the drill - I own nothing. And enjoy!

Working in OVW. Entering the WWE. Joining Evolution. Defeating Shawn Michaels in a Legend vs. Legend Killer match at Unforgiven. Winning the IC Championship from RVD at Armageddon. Beating Mick Foley and the Rock at Wrestlemania XX. Surviving a Hardcore match with Foley at Backlash. Earning the World Heavyweight title at SummerSlam. Being kicked out of Evolution. Taking out Rick Flair in a steel cage at Taboo Tuesday. Starting a locker room revolt against his old teammates. Leading his team to victory for control of RAW at Survivor Series. Challenging the Undertaker at Wrestlemania 21. Rejoining Evolution. Turning on Triple H after SummerSlam. Losing his Heavyweight Title to Triple H without being pinned or tapping out in a No Holds Barred match at Unforgiven. Teaming up with Booker T to defeat MNM for the Tag titles at Armageddon. Finally besting Batista for his third World Heavyweight Championship at the Rumble. Successfully defending his title against Christian in a Submission match at No Way Out.

Never one for shying away from the chance to talk about his own greatness, Randy had to admit that his accomplishments in the WWE had been impressive, at the very least. He was two days shy of his twenty-sixth birthday, and already had a career many veterans would kill for. He knew that he was lucky to even be afforded the chance to become the Legend Killer, to have the opportunity to work with Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Undertaker, and Mick Foley, let alone how good he was to actually beat them. Normally, a punk-ass military drop-out like himself would be forced to prove that he had the discipline and the drive to deserve a chance at the big boys, and he never forgot that. Though he didn't show a lot of humility for the cameras, he was grateful for everything they had taught him, for everything the company had given him, everything Vince had given him.

He had a laundry list of amazing feats in the ring, and he was proud of everything he had done. But only she made him proud of what he had become. In less than a year, she had turned him from a self-centered, egotistical, cocky punk into a honorable, sacrificial, loving man. Or she was pushing him in that direction. With Trish, he was starting be okay as the guy who took a back seat sometimes, played cheerleader, and was just there when she needed him. He didn't need the spotlight in their relationship, because he had found that the real action took place behind the scenes, where the "Diva" took off her costume, and the real Trish was revealed.

"You okay, man?"

Randy looked up from his spot on an equipment crate to find Batista staring back, an amused glint in his eye. "Oh, yeah, I'm ducky," he shot sarcastically, rolling his eyes and motioning for his friend to join him.

"You decided what you're gonna do out there?" As he lowered his well-dressed frame to the crate at Randy's left, Batista twirled a pair of sunglasses between his fingers.

In less than ten minutes, he would go to the ring and sign a contract for a brutal match with the only person in the world he cared about more than himself. With the flick of a pen, everything was going to change, and he didn't care how much she insisted that it didn't have to.

"I just don't know how I can get out of it," he admitted. For the last twenty hours or so, he had gone over every angle, tried to think of every loophole. Whatever reason she had for accepting the match, he couldn't take it. He was a professional, but the thought of causing any physical pain to the woman he loved made him want to throw up. "I can't do it, Dave. I can't get in that ring with Trish and beat her until she can't get up."

The bigger man was silent for a moment and then let out a half-chuckle, his eyes fixated on the glasses in his hand. "Maybe you're just scared that she'll beat you," he suggested.

Licking his lips, Randy threw his head back and groaned. "She might. But that's not it. Vince is insane," he sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. "I mean, he wants me to go into the ring and beat the shit out of my girlfriend. How fucked up is that?"

"Hey, it's just a match, right? I mean, you and I fight in the ring," Batista started.

But Randy shook his head. "It's not the same thing, man," he interrupted. "You and I have punched each other in the face over video games," he reminded. "Fighting is like a sign of affection for us." Batista nodded in concession. "I don't hit Trish. Ever. And I'm not starting now. Match or not, I refuse to lay my hands on the woman that I will someday vow to honor and protect."

A commotion at the end of the hall distracted both men from their conversation. "Bet it's her," Batista stated.

Trish was supposed to arrive long before the Smackdown taping began, but her flight had been delayed. He had been sitting there, waiting for her, wanting to hold her and assure her that he had a fool-proof plan to make everything okay. But since he had no plan, now he wasn't sure he even wanted to look at her. "Wish me luck, man," Randy formed a fist, bumping knuckles with Batista before walking to gorilla.

XXX

By the time she made it to the ring, the crowd was in a frenzy. Vince stood at the head of the table while Randy and Trish took opposite side, neither looking at the other. His stomach was flopping around like a fish out of water, and he wasn't willing to risk a glance at Trish to see how she was feeling.

Vince made some long, boring-ass speech about the importance of this match, acting like it was the greatest thing he had ever done, as though he'd been in on this whole revolution since the beginning. Randy wondered, just for a moment, if it would be wrong to smash the clipboard over the man's graying head. Maybe throw him through the table, a la Batista/Triple H?

Trish signed the contract and then extended the pen to him, his hand brushing hers. The contact sent a shiver down his spine, and his eyes shot up in an unguarded moment that seemed to make the world stop. He could hear nothing around them, see no one but her. Focused, determined, prepared. And then he signed his name.

The Chairman started to wrap up the segment, but Randy motioned for a microphone and waited for Tony Chimel, the ring announcer, to hand one over. "Can I just say something to my girlfriend?" he looked to Vince with an expression that said he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted, whether the boss liked it or not. "Trish," he turned back and reached for her hand. "You know you're sexy, right?" She almost smiled for the first time since entering the arena, but just nodded her head. "And you're funny, and you're smart. I could go on all night, talking about what a cool chick you are.

"But that doesn't make you all that special, Trish. I mean, hell," he gave her a cocky grin, reminiscent of the man she used to loathe, the Evolution Legend Killer, "I've been with a lot of sexy, funny, smart women, ya know? I think I loved all of them for a minute or two."

She cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes. What the hell did he think he was doing? Was he trying to get her riled up? Ready to fight? When he had promised to think of some solution, some way out of this fight, she had never dreamed he would humiliate her, and break up with her on television.

"But I didn't respect them," he stated firmly, his arrogant smile fading as he gaze bore into hers. "I don't love you because your hot, Trish. Or even because you make me laugh." Standing, he pushed his chair back and pulled on her hand until she made it to her feet. "I love you because you know what you want and you don't stop until you get it. I love you because you aren't afraid to fight for what you believe in."

For a split second, a terrifying thought crossed her mind. She feared he might propose, and started to pull away. "I can't," she growled at him through gritted teeth. Of course, she wanted to, but not right then. Not in the middle of the ring. Not before their match.

"I'm gonna get in that ring on Sunday, Trish, and I'm gonna give people a match they will never forget. I know that's what you want, too. I'm not going to Wrestlemania to fight my girlfriend. And I don't wanna take on the seven-time Women's Champion, either." He dropped her hand abruptly and grabbed his belt, slinging it over his shoulder. "I wanna fight the former World Heavyweight Champion. I wanna fight the leader of the revolution." He licked his lips, raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. "I don't wanna kill the legend of Trish Stratus. I wanna create it."

Her eyes flashed for a second, confusion turning to unadulterated pride and joy. He knew that he had said the right thing when she grabbed Vince's microphone and leaned over the table toward him. Stop it, Trish, he scolded in his mind. If she leaned any further, he was going to have to put her breasts back in her shirt, and then he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop touching her. Fighting the urge to kiss her was hard enough, what with the passion he could see running through her at that moment.

"All you're gonna see this Sunday in Chicago, Orton," she answered finally, holding his gaze with authority. "is the lights when you hit the ground. I'm not thinkin' about being your girlfriend at Wrestlemania. I'm thinking about being the Last Man Standing."

She dropped her microphone and walked off, swishing her hips as she retreated. Randy followed at a distance, fighting like hell to keep from smiling. The crowd reaction said they had loved the interaction, and so had he. None of them would ever know how many unspoken words had been shared in those glances and stares. And he would never tell them that he was more excited to get in the ring with her than he had ever been to face anyone.

Surely Vince thought that this match would destroy the Orton/Stratus union, and in turn, destroy Trish and her movement. But Randy knew better. His relationship with Trish was built on mutual respect, both of the other's professional success, and personal character. It was fueled by a mutual passion, each for the other's physical and emotional desires. But it was driven by a mutual love for the business that had brought them together.

As he returned to gorilla, he smiled to himself. Even he had believed that Vince was throwing Trish to lions when he booked this match. But he realized now that she had wanted Randy, not Vince, from the beginning. In Boston, he had told her that he knew he took a back seat to her Take Back The Ring revolution, and that he understood. But when he looked into her eyes on that stage, he saw the truth. She wanted him in the front with her, to share it with her. She wanted him to know what it felt like inside the fire.

And she wanted him to be forever linked to her legacy, no matter who won at Wrestlemania.