Too Long, Too Late
A/N: So, as many of you probably know, I'm in the middle of another story right now. But sometimes inspiration just doesn't care what else you have going. I heard the song "Far Away" by Nickleback the other night on the radio, and this idea jumped into my head. I realize it's been a hell of a long time since I wrote anything starring Randy and Trish, so this OneShot is for all of you who have been waiting patiently for the pairing to come around again, especially WWE Ashley Fan, who wrote me the sweetest PM asking for this pairing. Yeah, I was gonna do it already, but when I found out this was one of your favorite songs, starring one of your favorite pairings, I felt like it should be dedicated to you.
As always, I own neither Randy or Trish. Review, if you feel like it. And whether you shoot a message my way or not, I hope you Enjoy!
Randy, you know that I love you. And if it were just a matter of love, I would be willing to try. . . Randy, I love you. Too much. And that's why I can't keep doing this. . . Randy, this isn't working out for me anymore. . .
HEY! NOTHING YOU CAN SAY!
Trish Stratus jumped as the cell phone on her bathroom counter began to vibrate and blare Randy Orton's theme music. "Dammit," she cursed under breath, clutching her chest and willing the shocked thumping of her heart to cease. Collecting herself, she plastered a smile on her face and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Baby," Randy's voice smiled from the other end of the phone. "You about ready?"
Nodding, Trish checked her appearance one last time as she responded to his question. "Almost. Where are you?" A nagging apprehension crept into her chest as she waited for the slight possibility that he was calling to cancel. It wouldn't be the first time.
The revving of Randy's engine could be heard over the digital connection. "About a mile away. Runnin' a little late," he laughed slightly. "As usual."
No, usual would be failing to show up at all, she thought, shaking her head to clear the thought. He was on his way. That had to be enough for now. "I'll be on the porch," she said, snapping the phone shut.
As she ran her index finger over the mango gloss on her lips, she considered her appearance. He's going to know. After nearly a year together, she never put this much effort into dressing for one of their dates. He was sure to know that something was up. You might as well just write "It's Over" on a sandwich board and wear that to dinner, Stratus.
Grabbing the brush from the counter, she threw her softly curled hair into a ponytail and returned her to her bedroom. Ripping the white mesh top she was wearing over her head, she frantically searched for something a little less obvious. Anything other than "jeans and tee shirt" Trish was going to tip him off. And she wasn't sure why she didn't want him to see the end coming, if he didn't already.
Casting a glance at herself in the mirror, she nodded. Her tight jeans hugged her curves, and the fitted track jacket she was zipping over her breasts was nice enough for dinner at their favorite bar. Tying her white sneakers, she slid her cell phone into her purse and headed for the front porch.
As his car eased into her driveway, she tried to fight the butterflies building in her stomach. It wasn't that she didn't love him anymore. She did, with her entire mind, body, and soul. But sometimes it wasn't enough.
Pushing the sleeves of his white dress shirt to his elbows, Randy licked his lips as he stepped out of the car while Trish approached. He wondered sometimes if she would be as beautiful to him if he still saw her everyday. Deflecting from Raw to Smackdown had been hard on their relationship, but tonight he fully intended to make that up to her.
Without words, the couple embraced, and Trish couldn't resist allowing Randy to slip his tongue between her lips as his fingers rested easily on her cheeks. "Hey you," he smiled when he pulled back, his gaze drifting over her body. Fuck, Orton, you are a lucky-ass bastard.
In a hazy fog, Trish smiled. Dammit, Randy. Stop looking at me like that. "Hey," she whispered, slipping out of his grasp and walking to her side of the car. If she was going to end this tonight, she had to keep a level head. And he had to stop looking at her with those lust-filled blue eyes.
The ride to the restaurant was fairly static, the hum of the radio distracting them from any real conversation. As she leaned against the door and played with the tiny silver hoop in her right ear, Trish allowed herself to wonder what had gone wrong between them.
She could still remember the night he had approached her backstage at Raw. He was in a storyline with Stacy Keibler, but the look in his eyes that night had said he wasn't interested in anyone but Trish. It was Valentine's Day when he asked her out for the first time. Candlelight, wine, and roses were clichés that Trish didn't often find herself falling prey to, but mixed with Randy's hungry gaze and the deep timber of his voice, she didn't stand a chance of resisting.
For nearly two months, their relationship had moved at a slow, but steady, pace. Neither seemed to be in a hurry to rush into something too serious, but it was clear to everyone around them that they were starting to fall. And then Wrestlemania happened, and everything changed.
With Randy's shoulder injury putting him out of action, Trish felt like she would go crazy. He wasn't around to keep her company, and no one else seemed all that interesting anymore. When her trainers recommended she take some time off to rehab an aggravated disc in her back, Trish gladly accepted the opportunity to spend some downtime with her man.
Their relationship had thrived in those months. Without the distraction of work, the couple fell head first into an intoxicating love that consumed them both with a fury. They were rarely, if ever, apart and everything in the world of Randy and Trish seemed perfect.
And then Vince tore them apart. Of course, Trish knew it wasn't on purpose – moving Randy to Smackdown made perfect business sense. And at first, they had no problem making the long-distance relationship work. They were still together a couple days out of the week, and when they weren't, there were ten phone calls a day to say "I love you" and "I miss you."
What happened to us? she mused as Randy parked the car in front of his favorite bar. Turning, she opened her mouth and then shut it again. "What's that?"
Randy extended the red rose to her and smiled slightly. "It's a rose," he answered, holding it out to her again. "And it's not for me."
Taking the flower, Trish sniffed it instinctively. "Thanks," she said flatly, unsure of where the gesture came from. He used to be the "flowers for no reason" kind of guy, but recently that had given way to the "excuses for not seeing her" kind of guy.
Hand-in-hand, they entered the bar and Randy waved at a few of the regulars. Leading Trish past their usual spot at the bar, he walked on to the back corner, where a booth was already set. Another bouquet of roses sat in the middle of the table, along with a bottle of Corona for Trish, and a bottle of Amber Rock for Randy, on ice.
As Trish slid into the booth, she found her stomach turning once again. He had planned this. He knows what I'm going to do. Feeling his thigh brush hers as he sat beside her, she tried to force a smile in his direction. "Why?" was all she could manage.
Taking a deep breath, Randy lowered his head and folded his hands on the table. "Because it's been too long," he admitted honestly.
Their dinner, a vegetarian pizza that the bar was famous for, arrived before Trish could say anything else. An uncomfortable silence fell over the table as she attempted to choke the food down.
Most women wouldn't find this date romantic in the least, beer and pizza at a sports bar. But it was indicative of everything their relationship had been – easy, relaxed, comfortable, and casual. It was the kind of night that would have turned her to mush, once upon a time.
It's not enough. One romantic gesture was not enough to erase months of cancelled dates. It wasn't enough to erase the hurtful words and angry fights. And it wasn't enough to erase the rumors of partying, and other women.
Foregoing his attempt to finish his own dinner, Randy stepped out of the booth and made his way to the jukebox in the corner. When the soft strains of a melancholy ballad filled the air, he returned and extended his hand to Trish. "Dance with me?"
This time. This place. Misused. Mistakes. Wrapping his arms tightly around Trish's waist, Randy bent slightly to rest his cheek on her head. Too long. Too late. Who was I to make you wait? If she wanted to end their relationship tonight, he couldn't really blame her. He had messed up more than once, and he knew it. But if there was any way to stop it, he had to try. Just one chance. Just one breath. Just in case there's just one left.
His heart was thumping against her temple as she rested her head on his chest. I love you. I have loved you all along. Sliding her arms around him, Trish pulled him close. If this was going to be the last time she held him, she was going to make it memorable. And I miss you. Been far away for far too long.
There were a million things he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words just wouldn't come out. I keep dreaming you'll be with me, and you'll never go. If she walked away after tonight, he wasn't sure what he would do with himself. Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore.
She wasn't easily swayed by flowers, dinners, or songs. But as the lyrics washed over her, Trish found herself fighting tears, her resolve waning. On my knees, I'll ask. Last chance for one last dance.
Randy had chosen this song on purpose. He wanted to beg her not to go, but he wasn't that guy. She knew him well enough to know that, even if he wanted to say the right thing to make her stay, he wouldn't be able to. Cause with you, I'd withstand all of hell to hold your hand.
He was taken with the scent of her hair when she pulled away and wove her fingers around his. Staring up into his crystal eyes, she took a deep breath and bit her lip. I'd give it all. I'd give for us. "Randy," she started.
With a finger on her lips, he shook his head. Give anything, but I won't give up. "Please, Trish," he whispered. "Not yet."
Her shoulders sagged as she sighed, defeated. It was all there, in the puppy dog expression on his face. I wanted you to stay. Cause I need to hear you say, "I love you." I have loved you all along. "I just don't know if I can keep. . ." she started and then stopped.
She couldn't say it. She couldn't end it. Not with his pleading eyes begging her to stay. Not with a thousand happy memories flooding over the negative ones. Not when there was a chance they could fix it. And I forgive you for being away for far too long.
Watching as the emotion in her eyes shifted, Randy felt his heart jump. So keep breathing. Cause I'm not leaving you anymore. He crushed her to his chest and bit the inside of his cheek until a wave of emotion passed over him. "We're gonna make this thing work, Trisha."
Believe it. Trish nodded and tightened her grip around his waist. Hold on to me and never let me go.
They still had a hundred things to talk out, explanations and apologies to share. But as he lowered his face to hers and sucked hungrily on her lips, she decided the only thing that mattered was that there was no distance between them at the moment.