February 8th, 2003

Batista's hands were shaking as he gripped the cell phone; he wasn't quite sure how Randy would react after yesterday's incident in the locker room. Hell, he'd be surprised if the younger man even answered. He hadn't seen him since yesterday – after finishing his hasty shower, Orton had grabbed his things and left in a hurry, uttering a gruff few words to him and Ric Flair before rushing out of the door and retreating to the safety of his hotel room. Batista had listened to Flair's advice as closely as possible, but he'd been distracted by thoughts of the intimate moment he and Randy had been so close to sharing.

In fact, he had thought of little else since the smaller man had left his sight. What worried him the most was that Randy would be afraid of him now, paranoid that Batista would jump him from behind like a terrier in heat. He already knew that Randy was scared of his own feelings; that much had been evident from the way he had trembled when he'd been kissed, the way his hands had hesitated when they'd played on his naked skin. He would have to tread carefully now if he truly wanted to win Orton over.

"Randy? Randy. It's Dave." Batista swallowed anxiously as Randy picked up the phone. Now it was the leviathan's turn to feel nervous. He'd deliberately called Randy's hotel room instead of his cell phone so he wouldn't be able to see it was Batista's number. How would Orton react to that? Would he try and get him to go away? What if he cut him off?

"Oh. Uh… hi." Randy sounded apprehensive too, clearing his throat several times before he could speak properly. "Dave. It's you. I was expecting someone else."

"Oh." Batista couldn't keep the disappointment from his voice. Who else would Randy want to call him other than some gorgeous girlfriend? Not that Orton had ever mentioned anything about a girlfriend… but how could he not be taken? Batista kicked himself for not thinking of that! Why would Randy not already be involved with someone else? He was young and virile, toned and fit. Hordes of air-headed women probably chased him all the time. To make matters worse, Dave swore he could hear Randy snickering on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah. I was expecting a phone call from someone important, just some girl I know."

"Who? Who have you met, Randy?" Batista struggled to keep the frustration from his voice, the disappointment from his words, yet at the same time try and sound pleased for his team-mate. How could Orton think it was okay to act like that with him in the locker room last night and then go stringing women along like so many fashion accessories? Not only that, Randy was making it sound like the other phone call he had been expecting meant far more to him than Batista's. It was almost as if the younger man was making fun of him, and that hurt.
"No-one I haven't seen before!" Randy laughed, warming to the conversation now. "Calm down, Dave. I was only expecting a call from my mom."

"Your mom?" Batista felt his cheeks flush a deep scarlet, even as he began to laugh. Of course Randy would be expecting a call from her! She always called when he was on the road. "Damn, how stupid do I feel now?"

"Don't feel bad." Randy's voice sounded more relaxed, much calmer. "I was just messing with you, Dave. What did you really want to talk about?"

Crap! After that initial misunderstanding, Batista had almost forgotten why he had called Randy in the first place! Memories of last night's encounter filled his head again, the warm touch of Orton's fingers on his skin, the way he had pressed his lips so lovingly against the younger man's sweet mouth; every curve and line of his body were imprinted onto Batista's mind, every smile and sly grin. If Flair hadn't turned up, there was no telling what could have happened.

"Randy, I just wanted to say… um… about last night…"

"Last night. Oh."

"Yeah." An uncomfortable silence fell between the two of them, their phones going quiet. It took Batista a moment or two to recover himself before he continued talking. "I just wanted to say that… well… I hope I didn't come on too strong or anything. I didn't want to scare you."

"You didn't scare me." Orton gave a nervous laugh which sounded forced. "If anyone scared me, it was Ric. I thought I was gonna die when he barged in like that."

"I didn't scare you?" Batista's heart skipped a beat. That was far more than he had hoped for. He didn't want to exact an answer out of the younger man, but he had wanted some kind of hint as to his feelings. "You were shaking last night, Randy... your hands were shaking. Did I push you too far? If it made you uncomfortable... if I made you feel bad... I swear I won't do anything like that again. Write it off as me being excited about the night's match or something."

"No, it's not that, I... I guess I'm just not used to this kind of stuff." It sounded like Randy was sighing. "I just need some time to think. I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with me right now, I just... I just need some space. I'm a bit confused. Look, I should go, my mom's probably trying to call me."

"Sure thing." Batista felt his heart lurch, but he would get nowhere by bothering his tag partner with constant phone calls and bombarding him with voice messages. If Randy needed time to think things over, at least it meant that he had some feelings he needed to sort out, and that was better than having none at all. He was still so young, so unsure; no wonder he felt insecure about the situation. Batista would give him the space he needed, no matter how hard it would be. "You keep yourself out of trouble, okay?"

"I can't make any promises, Dave, but I'll try."

"You do that." Batista managed a warm smile, which was reflected in the sound of his voice. "And I promise I'll try, too. Look after yourself, squirt. I'll catch you later."

February 10th, 2003

Two days. Two stupid days! It had been two whole days since Batista had dared to touch on the subject of him and Randy, and his cell phone had been worryingly quiet ever since. It felt like the longest two days of his life. He didn't want to keep calling in case Orton thought he was some kind of stalker; he didn't want to scare the younger man away. Instead, Batista had thrown himself into his training with gusto, trying to keep his mind off the situation by exercising and going through his usual routine, alternating gym sessions with more gentle activities such as surfing online and reading a book here and there. It was no good, however. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Randy Orton.

After a restless afternoon, it was time to start preparing for another television appearance. For the first time in many months, Batista found himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror desperately wondering what to wear for the RAW show that night. It was make-or-break time. He really wanted Randy to notice him. A loose shirt? No, it showed too much bare chest. A suit? Too formal. An Evolution T-shirt? Too casual, and he didn't want to look like he was trying to match whatever Orton might be wearing. In the end, he settled for a tight black shirt which clung nicely to his rippling chest, showing off his assets without being too brash. He was glad when the limo finally arrived, and as he climbed into the back seat, he was greeted by an enthusiastic Ric Flair and a smug-looking Triple H.

"Batista! It's the beast himself! How's it going?"

"I'm good." Batista nodded at Ric Flair and The Game, a slight smile curving up the corners of his mouth. He'd half-hoped Randy would already be in the limo, but a part of him was relieved that he'd have time to prepare for their next meeting. There was no telling what would happen if Triple H knew how he felt about the smaller wrestler. "Where's Randy? He is coming tonight, right?"

"Didn't he call you?" Ric asked. "We're picking him up last. He had something to take care of."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Batista's tone hardened slightly, partly because Ric Flair seemed to imply he and Randy were already becoming something more than tag partners, but mostly because it sounded like Randy was keeping something from him. "I haven't spoken to him for a couple of days. What's he up to?"

"He wouldn't say. Just that he needed a bit more time to get ready."

"Fair enough, I guess." The big man settled back onto his seat and shifted his weight, staring out of the tinted window, wondering what kind of game Randy was playing. Ric Flair and Triple H resumed the conversation they'd been having before Batista had stepped in - something about Vince McMahon and Eric Bischoff - but the huge man only half-listened to the exchange. He was too busy trying to think why Randy would choose to call Flair instead of him; so busy, in fact, that he only noticed at the last minute that the limo had stopped, that the door was being opened and that Randy Orton was climbing inside the vehicle to take a seat next to him.

"Hey, guys." Randy grinned and nodded at the three of them, settling himself back in his seat and shrugging off the light jacket he'd been wearing to reveal a loose white shirt. For a brief moment, Batista felt a surge of joy as he noticed that their outfits complimented each other without looking like they'd deliberately dressed that way. Then he realised what he'd been thinking and tried desperately to pretend that he hadn't. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not a thing. Me and Ric were just talking about how we're gonna have some fun with Eric Bischoff tonight. Isn't that right, Dave?"

"Uh... yeah." Batista nodded curtly. It wasn't like he'd been listening. And now that Randy was here - here, wearing an outfit which made him look good enough to eat -Batista really couldn't think of anything much except how breathtakingly gorgeous he appeared. He phased out slightly as Flair and Triple H spoke to Orton, all the words he'd planned to say to Randy vanishing from his mind, even though he'd thought about them so carefully over the past few days. Batista's sense of logic seemed to disappear completely whenever Randy was around, and his mind wandered as he stared at the younger man, just watching him as he talked. Two days of planning what he was going to say, and now he could barely even utter a simple 'hello'!

By the time Batista had gathered his thoughts, Ric Flair and The Game had gone onto another topic, their discussion so heated and involved that they barely even noticed what the other two members of Evolution were doing.Perhaps itwas just as well; Randy Orton had had a lot of time to think since the other night, since the way he'd stood naked in front of his team-mateandbeen lost in a whirlwind of emotions. He'd considered what was in hisheart, thought about what might result if he took this step and returned Batista's feelings, and there was only one logical solution. Steeling himself, Randy reached out and placed his hand firmly on Batista's leg, his fingers feeling warm and comforting even through the material of the large man's trousers.

Batista just smiled.