Stripped

A/N: Sorry, I didn't really give you guys a note yesterday - I was kinda in a hurry. This story was supposed to be all angsty and sad from the beginning, but now that there's a new guy in my life, angsty is kinda hard to come by. So if it takes me a little bit longer to post the chapters, blame him. Thanks for all your great reviews - I'm glad you're all loving Olivia. And now, for those of you who have been waiting for her and John to have some kind of moment alone. . . I don't own 'em. Enjoy!

After the episode at the truck stop, Stacy had apologized to John for her blow-up. Three weeks later, she had yet to say a word to Olivia. Not that the newest diva was complaining – she had more than her share of friends and acquaintances, and she didn't feel the need to force a relationship with someone who had no interest in her. Between her diva duties, teaching Trish the perfect lap dance, and hanging out with the guys, she found her schedule pretty full, and she was loving it.

Making her way down the hall of their latest hotel, Olivia checked her key card, found the corresponding door, and then turned to look over her shoulder. "You really didn't have to carry all of those," she smiled at John, who was trying his best to balance his luggage and hers. "I could've helped."

Shaking his head, he plastered a grin on his reddened face and tried to pretend it was no big deal. "Nah," he grunted, setting the two biggest suitcases on the ground as she opened the door.

John waited for her to enter the foyer and then stepped in behind her, gasping in spite of himself. It wasn't just a suite – it was the biggest, fanciest, most expensive-looking suite he had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of big, fancy, expensive suites. "You have got to be kidding me," he finally muttered.

The room was extravagant, she knew. But she always pampered herself on nights when she had to entertain. Shallow as it seemed, coming home to a great view and a plush bed made her feel like she was worth a little more than the tips and the fee she would earn for her services. Olivia sat her purse on the entry table and then looked over her shoulder. "What?"

Without even attempting to hide his amazement, John stepped further into the room, letting his eyes drift over the sunken living room, up the spiraling staircase, and into the loft bedroom. "This is your room?"

Nodding, she just turned nonchalantly and began to bring in the bags from the hall. It wasn't the most glamorous room she'd ever shelled out a grand for, but if he was impressed, she wouldn't rain on his parade. "Is there something wrong with it?" she asked with a smile, moving into the living room to stand behind him.

John turned, his blue eyes wide. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? Wrong?" he laughed and moved to the picture window, which gave them an aerial view of downtown Houston, Texas. "I've never seen anyone get a room like this on the road. I mean, Randy gets 'em for Trish sometimes, but we don't really see the inside, ya know?"

Olivia smiled and sank to the soft, leather couch. Turning her head to side, she wondered, for a moment, how a guy like John could be impressed with something as simple as a hotel room. He was the WWE champion, after all. He traveled all the time, promoting his album and the company. Surely the put him up in places far nicer than this. "What about you and Stacy? I'm sure you did romantic shit like that for her all the time."

At the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name, John tore his eyes from the view and looked at the woman across the room from him. She was insecure about her own worth, unsure of her place in the world, and unsatisfied with her station in life. But she sat before him a contradiction to all of that, statuesque and dignified beyond any and all circumstances. It was that poise, that intangible quality, that had drawn him in from day one, and kept him practically attached to her hip everyday thereafter.

He didn't speak, only watched her with that unnerving stare that she couldn't seem to get enough of. Olivia had told herself, more than once over the last few weeks, that those eyes would be the end of her if she wasn't careful. But she wasn't sure how to protect against them anymore. Every defense that she put up, he seemed to barrel right through. If anyone in this company was her friend, it was John. And she was happy about that.

Forcing herself to break the gaze, she stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. "Well, you're welcome to hang out in here tonight, if you want," she offered, moving toward her suitcase. "Why don't you invite the guys over?" She pulled the luggage toward the stairs. "You can order some room service and chill after the show?"

With a grunt, she climbed onto the first step and tried to hoist the heavy suitcase after her. It didn't budge. After watching three more attempts, John finally stepped up to offer a hand. Following her up the stairs, he tried his best not to stare at her perfect ass as it moved back and forth with each step she ascended. "So, you're sure you'd be cool with us crashing your pad?"

Olivia's laughter rang through the open space as she reached the bedroom and flung herself onto the large bed. Staring at the ceiling, she shrugged. "Of course," she answered easily, resting her hands on her tight stomach as she played with the hem of her tee shirt. "I'm not gonna be here anyway," she added softly.

The mood in the room seemed to shift in an inexplicable moment. John looked around, as if he could somehow locate the cause of the awkwardness. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

Struggling to sit with a grunt, Olivia ran her hand over the top of her ponytail and offered him a small smile. "I'm doin' a bachelor party in the penthouse."

"A bachelor party?" It clicked and John found himself a bit nauseous. "You're dancing?" Shaking the cobwebs from his brain, he lowered himself to the bed beside her. "But I thought you were taking a break."

She nodded and stood. "I am. From the pole," she explained, opening her suitcase and digging around. "But Vince is letting me book some private parties for supplemental income." She threw a tiny, lime green G-string onto the bed and returned to rummaging through her bag.

It didn't make sense for him to be jealous. He knew who she was, what she did before she walked into his life, and he was fine with it. Hell, he was grateful for it. But the more he got to know Olivia Stewart, the woman and mother, the further back in his mind Olivia Dawn, the sex symbol and stripper, seemed to slip. "So, why do you need to supplement? I mean, you said you have some cash saved up." He tried to be cool about it, but the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn't leave him alone.

One of the things he loved most about Olivia was her ability to stand her ground when she knew she was right. Except now. Now that she was giving him the "determined" look, he wasn't so crazy about it. "Brandon's birthday is in a week, and I wanna get him something phenomenal."

Laying back on the bed, John felt the child inside starting to ball his fists. There was a major, kid-sized tantrum just waiting to be unleashed, and he wasn't altogether unsure he could control it. "Sure. Because nothin' else is workin', so you might as well buy the kid off."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. But Olivia only rolled her eyes and went about setting lotions and sprays over the vanity opposite the bed. "I'm not trying to buy him," she assured him, sinking to the bench and staring at herself in the mirror. "I just miss him. And I'm not gonna be the one sending him cheap-ass gifts when I can't be there. That's his dad's job."

Smiling in spite of himself, John rolled off the bed and walked over to her. Watching, he found himself mesmerized as she lifted her thick hair onto her head and then considered herself carefully. With his hands on her shoulders, he met her eyes in the mirror and offered her a smile.

"Besides, it can't hurt to put a little more cash in Brandon's college fund, right?" She tried to return the smile, but the expression failed to reach her eyes.

Without missing a beat, he answered, "It hurts you."

Her eyes flickered with something inexplicable, but she blinked it away, hoping he hadn't seen it. Standing, she patted his shoulder and then moved toward the bed, beginning to shed her shirt. It was awkward, for some reason, to take her clothes off for him. But if she was going to do it for a room full of drunken idiots later, she might as well do it for a friend now.

Grabbing the shirt before she could get it over her head, John guided the fabric back down over her bra and then took her hands. "Stop it, Olivia," he commanded.

She froze, biting her lip as she stared into his eyes, as if in a trance. "What?"

"I can see right through you," he assured her, letting go of her right hand and cupping her cheek with his palm. "For the last three weeks, there's been this blaze in your eyes, like you're loving life again. Like you're on fire." Rubbing his thumb over her lip, he spoke words he hadn't planned, but that flowed easily. "But right now? When you're talkin' about dancin' again?" He shook his head. "Ashes."

For weeks, she had been trying to hold him at bay, getting just close enough to entertain innocent fantasies of long movie nights, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms, without needing anything more. But it was clear now, as he held her face and drilled her with his penetrating stare, that he had wormed his way so much closer to her heart. "I do what I have to do to take care of Brandon," she whispered weakly. "Even if it kills me."

"You're doin' it for Brandon, huh?" She nodded sincerely. "Olivia, don't you think. . ." he started to tell her all the things he had been thinking since getting to know her.

But she held up a hand and stepped out of his reach. "Stop it," she insisted, shaking her head. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to enjoy her time with her wrestling friends, and then tolerate her time with "private" clients. The two weren't supposed to be concerned with each other.

He took another step forward, but Olivia jumped onto the bed and stared at him. "There is nothing that you can tell me that I haven't already heard, okay? No look of disappointment that you can give that I haven't already seen a hundred times in the mirror." Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she went on, her voice cracking. "I know I fucked him up, okay? But I just can't take hearing what a failure I am from one more person that I care about."

With his heart breaking, he watched as her body collapsed onto the bed. The fun-loving, super-cool, strong and independent woman he had considered his friend over the last few weeks, was now a sobbing, uncontrollable heap in the middle of a bed that dwarfed her and made her look like a small child. Unable to stand the sight, he climbed onto the mattress and wrapped his arms around her. "Come here."

Olivia gave up control of her body as he lifted her into his arms. Burying her face in his chest, she continued to let herself cry. For too long, she had dammed up the well of emotions inside, trying to be strong and brave for her son. She had spent her entire life trying to prove, to everyone else, that she could handle any card life dealt her. And for once, it felt nice to let it go.

When her shoulders stopped shaking, and her breathing returned to normal, John pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Better?"

Nodding, Olivia offered him a genuine smile. "Kinda, yeah."

Relief flooded over him as he felt her regain some of her composure. Standing, he pulled her to her feet and pointed to the attire she had laid out on the bed. "Now, you go do your party, okay? You get those guys all hot and bothered like you're so good at. And then, come back here and we'll Playstation it for awhile. Or we'll throw things at Adam so he has something to blame his horrible hand-eye coordination on, okay?"

She sniffled, laughed, and nodded all at once. That's when she looked into his eyes and realized that everything had changed. He had seen her cry. He wasn't just a co-worker or teammate. He wasn't even just a friend. Arykah, George, Rico, and Melinda had seen her cry. And now John, too, was family.