Chapter Seven: Rendezvous

John Cena let out a loud snore as he felt a jab to his sternum. A surprised gasp followed, ripping through the silence of "Air McMahon", the McMahon's private air service, that brought a very select few from city-to-city. It was almost two months past Toronto, and the group of stars was heading to the South. A series of events from Corpus Christy, Texas -- Orlando, Florida -- Dallas, Texas -- Phoenix, Arizona -- Denver, Colorado -- and Albuquerque, New Mexico. Randy was the assailant in John's sleeping beauty assault. He let out a grunt of disapproval when he saw Randy's sapphire gaze staring back at him, a borderline annoyed expression swimming in the pools of color.

"What the fuck, man…"

"You were snoring louder than Big Show. And that's a stretch." Randy said in an edgy tone. "Besides, we have to wake up, anyway. The plane lands in fifteen."

"How do you know?

"I haven't slept. I've been keeping tabs."

"You never sleep…" John retaliated with a large yawn. "That's no shock."

"Too much to think about to sleep and wake the dead with snores like that." Was Randy's response as he stood up. "I need a drink…"

"Could you grab me a Pepsi?" John asked curiously, as Randy waved his hand off. More so a 'whatever' gesture. "Thank you very much, Mister Grinch."

"Fuck you very much." Randy replied, as he disappeared behind the curtain leading to the plane's private kitchen and bar stock.

They were always that warm. About as warm as a glass of ice water. John got his Pepsi, all right. He got that and a slap to the back of the head by Randy passing by to his seat. Randy had a Martini dry with two decorative olives for the 'sophisticated look and taste' that a man like himself 'deserved'. He was very much high on himself, no matter WHERE they went, WHAT they did, WHO they met…
That was what drew the ladies to him, no matter WHERE they went… and so on…

Lucky for them, their flight landed just at sunset. It would give them time to go from the airport to get drinks and find dinner. They went to the hotel late: but what did Randy do? He called Angel.
What in the hell is wrong with you! Randy demanded himself, as he dialed a number that was borderline familiar to him now.

"Hi! You've reached Angel. Sorry you missed me but I'll be checking my messages periodically. I'm at the Yankees game in Arlington so I'll getcha back when I get on the road home. Later! Oh and Marlena, tell Alex I said AWESOME HOMERUN! Leave me a message!"
Beep.

"Hey, Angel. It's Randy…" He was quiet a moment. "I guess you're having a blast tonight. I'm in Corpus Christy, actually…" He chuckled. "Hopefully those Rangers win, or John'll have a cow… Boston would be four back in the ranking then. Regardless, I wanted to call to say hello, and see you in a few days. Hope you're home. I'll be in town soon. I promise. Just wait for me."

As he hung up his phone, his room telephone rang. He picked up the receiver to hear just breathing, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Hello?"

"Randy?" Randy couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"What, John?"

"Oh, hey… um… can you come by Trish's? We're all having this huge discussion and I need your brooding skills…"

"Fuck yourself."

"Thanks, but no thanks. You busy? Can you come?"

"Many times a night if need be." John made a groan of disgust, as Randy rolled his eyes to himself again. "Yeah. I'll be there. Just don't get your underwear in an uproar…"

He hung up the phone in John's ear. What the hell could they want now! There were times where Randy just wanted to be alone. Where he just wanted to be with himself, even if it was in the dark of his bedroom or the light of the arenas. He didn't want to be bothered with petty garbage tonight…

--

The next few days went fairly fast for Randy. The dates seemed to just fly by between work, appearances, meetings, and the endless variety of parties. The night in Denver was the most anxious for Randy. He was never nervous about a show date -- or a city appearance, but he was nervous for RAW in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It wasn't for the show, it was for the fact he was meeting someone there. He had made that person promise to meet him. He couldn't not show up and break her heart.
For some reason, Randy CARED…

Maybe that was why he was testy on the drive from Denver, Colorado to Albuquerque. He drove with John, Trish, Adam and Anastasia. They noticed Randy was ungodly quiet, as he had his iPOD blaring out Avenged Sevenfold. It was Adam who took the risk to pull the headphones from Randy's ears, to try to talk to him. Little did Adam know, he'd nearly be bitten and slapped. By Randy.

"What is your BEEF, man?" Adam asked, as he snapped his hand back toward his chest quickly. "Chill OUT."

"Don't bother me."

"Shane gets like this." Trish said quietly, "I've seen it more times than not. He gets really bitchy."

"I forgot to take my bitch pill before we left. Sorry." Randy spat out sarcastically, "Do you mind, though? I was listening to that…"

"We know." John said, "You aren't in a social mood are ya, sunshine?"

"You're in a mood to get a beating, aren't you?" He retorted. "I don't want to be bothered. I'm going to drive from Albuquerque to LA by myself. I swear to God."

"I didn't know you worshiped him." Randy gave him a glare. John rolled his eyes a little, trying to ignore Randy's attitude. "You're not an easy man to live with." John said, as Randy shot him a look as he put his headphones back on.

"Nobody told you that you had to be around me. So shut up."

--

It was seldom that Randy got into moods that dramatic, but when he did -- there was always hell to pay. Comments were made about how he was 'exactly like Shane', or 'how he needed a pamprin'… but none of which Randy heard or cared about. When he was in his moods, he listened to his music. Which was more specifically Cradle of Filth, HIM, and From Autumn to Ashes. From My Chemical Romance, Switchblade Symphony, and Metallica. Or his newest acquisitions: Avenged Sevenfold and a young rock band called Anti Depressant out of New York.
Something just triggered Randy emotionally from time to time. Nobody could guess what it was or why… but it got bad.

This time, it was the thought of meeting with Angel Fury. He was nervous, he was -- well, in no false terms, scared. He hated having feelings for someone now days, because he was afraid that if they knew the real him, they'd turn away and never look back. He knew that if he told Angel the truth she'd scamper away and be on to her next. But him? He'd dwell… and dwell hard. Things like this made Randy realize that afterlife was no easier than a regular life. It actually complicated relationships far more than the usual. The usual excuses just -- didn't work.

Gay? No big deal.
Really a guy? Nothing Jerry Springer and a hand job couldn't fix.
But Dead? … that was something not even Jerry Springer would touch…neither would that transvestite Candyass from Las Vegas…

Randy sighed heavily as he sat in his Albuquerque hotel room, staring out at the rain as it pounded the windowpane in front of his eyes. His sapphire orbs were glassed over with an absent haze, the reflection of the pitter-pattering rain drops showing in the seemingly mirror-like surface. Randy's cell phone went off, but he didn't feel the urge to answer. Didn't feel the need.

"You've reached Randy. I can't get to the phone or I'm just real busy. Leave me a message after the beep."

Two hours after his trance was lifted, or just his preoccupation, Randy would find out the message was in fact from Angel Fury. He listened to her voice, once -- twice -- three times as he replayed the message. He felt a mix of happiness and depression. Anxiousness and fear.

"Hi Randy, it's Angel. You're probably busy, I would NOT be surprised." Then she laughed a little. "I'll get in touch with you later and we can meet up whenever you want to; just let me know okay? A friend of mine and I were out earlier but I'm home now… so just call my house okay? Later!"

He mindlessly fiddled with the keypad of his phone, tracing her phone number that he had all but memorized in the three times he had seen it. Was he going to call her? Just as he was, his phone rang, and the name "Stratigias, Patricia" came up. Randy answered with a sigh, and there was the typical peppy, happy voice on the other end of Trish.

"Hey, hon. I just wanted to call to see if you were okay…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Trish."

"You sure…?"

"Yes, Trish." Randy said softly. "I'm okay. I promise."

"You'd best be okay. Are you coming to the event tonight, or has Shane not called you?"

"Not called… or I haven't answered… I haven't checked all my voice mail, yet."

"There's a little social Shane's holding tonight at some high mucky-muck nightclub downtown. Only the crèm de la crèm need apply. You want to be my date?" She asked, you could hear a smile in her voice. Randy actually smiled.

"Sure, Trish. I'll go with you."

"Great. I didn't want to have to bug John again. He thinks I'm lying every time I ask him to go. You guys never ask me!"

"If I had known about it, darlin', I'd have asked you." Randy said, and Trish giggled.

"Aww, thanks, Randy. That just boosted my confidence. So I'll see you at eleven in all black by the lounge?"

"I'll pick you up, in red, at your room."

"Great. See ya then."

Trish hung up the phone and Randy smiled to himself. How could he not? The WWE's most eligible bachlorette just asked him to a party, to be her date. How nice, right? Randy wasn't stupid, he knew an opportunity when he saw it. Now Trish was a woman he'd shamelessly sleep with… but there'd be no sleeping involved, you see. What was the point when your hands could travel a luscious body like that?
Maybe that night to get his head straight, Randy would make arrangements.

--

Randy called Angel, to let her know he was busy that night, but the next night they could meet up. Angel had no problem with that. She was more than welcoming to Randy's need for the night. At eleven, as scheduled, Randy - in a black pinstriped suit, showed up at Trish's room. He knocked once, and then walked in -- to find Trish just slipping on a pair of red sequined stiletto heels. She smiled a little, as she stood straight up, showing off a curve-complimenting red dress, that she might have knicked from Amy Dumas. It had that vibe, but it was all in all classy and so very sexy. Randy smirked a little as he walked up to her, placing an arm around her waist, and that made Trish's head fall to the side. She knew what that meant, and she was okay with it. Randy leaned down, closing his eyes a minute to intake her scent. She smelled amazing. A mix of coconut and the finest fragrance, store bought and natural.

"You look good." Randy said quietly, as he placed his lips on Trish's neck. She smiled a little, and nodded.

"Thank you."

The words were few at that moment, as Randy traced his fangs along her tender skin. Trish was waiting for him to take a bite, as John had -- Adam had -- and Shane had. But they never changed her. It wasn't enough of a bite to change her. He didn't though, as he pushed her hair back.

"We should go, my driver is waiting."

"Okay, no problem. Shane's going to want to see you anyway."

"And you, as you're my date."

He escorted Trish to his limo, and they went to the designated club Shane was renting for their social. Trista Lynn was on Shane's arm, naturally, Paul Levesque was with Stephanie McMahon-Levesque, Vince and Linda, John had come to the party solo (but was planning on leaving for Anaheim later that night to see Marlena Storm (who was there for the Angels/Yankees series), all about - couples were scattered. Randy drew a lot of attention showing up with Trish, but didn't care. It was good.
All publicity was good publicity.

The party was your typical high and mighty get-together. Drinks, appetizers, socializing and gossip. After about an hour and a half, Randy asked Trish if she wanted to leave. Trish hardly hesitated. They left after bidding their good-byes to Shane, and that they'd see him in Los Angeles for RAW. They went back to the hotel around 1 A.M and Trish invited Randy to her room for a couple cocktails before they called it a night. The cocktails were good, but so was what came next.

Trish wasn't one to say no to a guy like Randy. She didn't say no either. Randy had her from the minute they walked in that room, where his hands explored and traveled places they had never on her. She was one woman he had never went all out with. Until tonight. Randy left Trish's room at around five in the morning, after four very active, very sweaty hours. He didn't even admit to her the God's honest truth…
He wasn't thinking of her when they had sex.

"I'll see ya, Trish." Randy said, as he looked toward her while he was leaving. "Don't do anything or anyone I wouldn't do."

"Already did. You surely wouldn't do yourself." Trish said with a smirk, "Later, Randy."

"Later."

Did a piece of ass really diminish the asshole nature of one, Randy Orton? Not a chance. Not much could. He didn't feel bad about sleeping with Trish; in fact - she was one of the few people he'd bring himself to sleep with and then look at the next day. Normally when sex commenced, he killed his partner afterward. Black widow, much? See though, Randy knew if he let it slip to Angel where he was the night he was supposed to hang out with her, she'd be hurt. Not many women WOULDN'T be if they knew they took the back seat temporarily to someone like Patricia Stratigias.
He didn't know how Angel was but knew… just knew, that would hurt her.

He didn't want to hurt her, but he needed to clear his mind. Trish helped, but just temporarily. It wasn't a long term fix.

--

The next day, Randy had a message on his phone when he woke up. It was from Angel. She said she would stop by the hotel later that afternoon, when she would be nearby after dropping her friend Nicole off at her house. Randy was quick to get up, after noticing the time of almost 3 P.M. He showered quickly, and got dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a white -- almost silvery dress shirt. He looked good, as usual. He spiked his hair, and put on his black sunglasses, and headed to the lobby to find out if he had any visitors that day. When he got down there, he saw Trish with Mark Calloway, and she waved to him with a smile.
Randy just waved casually.

"Good afternoon, Mister Orton. You have messages." The receptionist said as she saw Randy approaching. "Your father wants you to call him, and a girl named Angel insisted you knew her, but I wouldn't send her up."

"Why?" Randy questioned. "Are you supposed to tell me whom is permitted in my room?"

"No sir, but you never stated you knew an-"

"You should have called me first before sending her away then, asshole." He snapped the paper from her hand, and ripped out his cell phone from his pocket. "Some people, I tell you…" Randy grumbled to himself.

"I'm sorry, Mister Orton. The next time I'll--"

"There won't be a next time. I'm not staying in this hotel again."

"Please, Mister Orton, don't be rash!"

"Fuck you."

Randy stalked off as he put the phone to his ear. Trish noticed Randy's hostile attitude, and walked up to the receptionist, who was literally in tears. Had she just screwed up to lose her job? At these high rate hotels, if you sent away a customer -- especially the caliber of an Orton or a McMahon -- you were all but warming a spot on the unemployment line. Randy was heading up to his room to grab his things as Trish leaned over.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"I've just messed up…" the receptionist said quietly, as she began rummaging under the desk. "I need to grab my things, Bruce is going to kill me…"

"Who's Bruce?"

"My supervisor…" The girl said, still speaking quietly. "He's going to fire me…"

"Don't worry. We won't let a word of this get out. Randy will cool off once he gets a hold of the girl you sent away. I'll tell him not to say a word and give this place another shot."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course I would." Trish said, brushing away a tear from her eye. "Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'll take care of everything."

"Thank you… thank you so much…"

--

Well, while Trish was playing good Samaritan… Randy was ripping pissed. Words couldn't even describe the anger that coursed through Randy's veins at the mere thought of Angel Fury being turned away from a hotel where he was supposed to have free will running. That wasn't going to swing well for him. He managed to get her on the phone though, and told her how sorry he was.

"Oh, it's okay." Angel said with a smile to her voice. "I'm not concerned. They're just watching out for a great superstar."

"You're crazy…"

"No, I know that girl anyway. We went to school together. She wouldn't want to believe I was hanging with the likes of you anyway."

"She a bitch that way?"

"No, she was just used to apparently being better than I was."

"I don't buy that for a minute. You're stunning. She's second rate." Randy said as he fixed his shirt. "Where do you want to meet?"

"Well, I can come by the hotel again…"

"Sure. I'll wait for you in the lobby and we'll take my limo out."

"If you insist."

"I do. Grab something nice to wear and we'll have a party."

"Okay…" She seemed to be still smiling. "I'll meet you in about half hour."

"Consider it done. See you then."

Well that half hour passed fairly quickly. Randy was in the lobby, waiting somewhat patiently, as he glanced at his gold Rolex for the time. She should have been there in the next five minutes, and the receptionist he flipped out on was still watching Randy intently, waiting for another outburst. An outburst that would never come. Soon, a girl in a short black dress and black heels walked in, looking quite nice for an outfit so simple. Angel Fury had a somewhat -- glowing smile -- on her face, especially as she noticed Randy waiting. For her.

"Randy!" She said, as she jogged up to him. He smiled a little as he turned, hearing her voice echo through the somewhat quiet lobby.

"Angel, you --" He stopped a minute, as he got his first REAL good look at her dressed up. Oh my God… He swallowed hard as he took her hand. "You look simply stunning."

Randy kissed her hand gently, as Angel smiled. The receptionist looked literally, dumbfounded, by what she was seeing. That wasn't possible. That was the same girl she sent away earlier and now she was rubbing shoulders with Randy Orton. Angel cast a smile toward the girl, waving lightly with her free hand as Randy held one of her hands in his.

"Hey Tiffany, how are you?" Angel said with a somewhat spiteful grin, as the receptionist just swallowed hard. Not because Angel looked amazing, but because she was acknowledged by the same girl she sent packing just hours ago.

"Hi Angel." Tiffany replied emptily.

"Tiffany is it? Well, Miss Tiffany… you have a good night! I know I will!" Randy said with that same spiteful overtone, causing Tiffany to turn visibly pale.

As they left, the two were quietly basking in their devious nature back in the lobby. So they were two birds of a feather as far as making this girl's life seemingly hell. They could get along real good, as Randy enjoyed to bask in someone else's misery. How could he not? The man, as previously stated, had everything normal people could only imagine in their wildest dreams…
From money to immortality. Did it get much better than that?

--

They had their night out, and it was quite memorable. Randy still wasn't thinking of Angel as nothing more than sex. That was what Trish was for. He thought she was beautiful, don't think otherwise. He would have done many, many unmentionable things to her… with her… for her… but thought of that as, inappropriate with a lady. That's what Angel was to him. A lady. That's what separated Randy from his Circle counter parts.
He respected somebody other than himself and his kind. Only this time it was a girl. A woman. Named Angel Fury.

Sure, he knew that if he got too attached to this girl it could spell trouble for him within the Circle of Supremacy. And it could even involve him getting his ass kicked or killed by Shane Brandon McMahon. Wouldn't it look bad if Randy got attached?

There was only one good thing about the situation: He still had yet to pick his one.

The one, that the McMahon's believed so strongly in. Shane had his one, in Randy's sister Trista. Adam's, was his twin sister Anastasia. John had yet to pick his one, but so did Randy. He would in time, and if it came down to it, Angel Fury would be his one… He just didn't think that she'd be too into that.

He naturally expected to be rejected if she knew what kind of person…
Monster…
He really was.

Their night out was something neither of them would forget. Or at least, Randy wouldn't. They had a nice dinner at a restaurant, where Randy easily spent a couple thousand dollars on wine -- food -- and a special serenade for Angel. She was literally, eating out of the palm of his hand. He also greeted her with roses and a smile.

"I hope you don't think I'm going too overboard. Wouldn't want to look desperate." Randy said with a smile, "John does that for the both of us."

"I'd never think you look desperate. This is all so sweet. Can I repay you?"

"Your company is payment enough." He took her hand over the table, entwining it in his. She smiled softly. "I hate to say it, but you already have me… just by being yourself."

"I don't get it…" Angel started, "I don't know what makes me so special."

"Everything." Randy said, almost in bewildered fashion. "You don't think there's anything special about you?"

"No, not really." Angel said with a shrug. "I've never been the way to think I had something someone else didn't. That's just not how I was raised."

"Good parents, I assume?" Randy asked, and Angel shrugged again.

"Yeah… pretty good, but it was my grandparents who invested self respect and respect for others into my head."

"I guess I can be okay with that." Randy said as he smiled. "But I'm going to re-teach you something. You're going to know how great you are by the time I'm done with you."

"How long do you plan on being around, Mister Orton?" Angel asked with a laugh, as Randy smiled back at her.

"As long as you want."

"Forever then." Angel smiled, but Randy felt something turn in his stomach. Nerves. They were already on end, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, taking a deep, cleansing inner breath.

"Forever is a long time, Angel." Randy said solemnly, and she nodded her head.

"I know."

Moments passed where words weren't even needed. They finished their dinner, Randy paid for their final arrangements, and then he escorted her from the restaurant to the limo that was waiting out front. Angel thought she had said something that scared Randy, or made him uncomfortable, so before they got into the limo -- Angel grabbed his hand.

"Randy, wait…"

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking down at her. She looked a little nervous.

"I was just about to ask you the same question…" Angel said, as she looked a little strangely at him. "I mean, you haven't said much since dinner so I was worried I said something to offend you…"

"Of course you didn't…" Randy sighed a little as he took her hand again. "You're amazing to me. Nothing you could say would offend me."

"Then why did you get all quiet when I said forever?"

"Because it really is a long time…" Randy said, trying to think of a reason why it would hit him so hard. "And commitment scares me." He blurted out, and Angel slowly shrugged her shoulders.

"It scares me too, but you know… when I'm with you?" She looked down and away from him. "It doesn't scare me so much…"

"…I'm beginning to know that feeling…"

Randy moved his hand to push her face up. He slowly leaned down, and placed a tender kiss on Angel's lips. He brushed her hair back over her neck and behind her ear, his face resting on her neck and partially on her face as he kissed her. She returned his kiss unhesitant, her hand tracing down his arm as she closed her eyes. The moment lasted longer than either of them would have planned…
But it was something they wouldn't forget.

Randy did something that he hadn't done with any of his other dates up until that point. Did something that could only be merited as "awkward". He asked Angel to dance with him. The restaurant they were at didn't have a designated dance floor, but when the music wafted through the elegant dining room -- Randy whisked her up into his arms and allowed them both to be lost in the music.

I may not say it quite as much as I should
When I say I love you, darlin'
That means for good
So open up your heart and let me in
And I will love you
Until forever
Until death do us part…
We'll be together.
So take my hand…

and hold on tight
We'll get there
This I swear…

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction she'd have to it, but the way she wrapped her arms tightly around him and held onto him for what seemed dear life… Randy knew she was his. All he had to do was tell her he wanted to be hers. But could he bring himself to do it? Could he bring himself to ruin what seemed like such a perfect mood?

"Angel…"

She just tilted her head slightly, her cheek still resting on his strong shoulder much like a woman would lean on her man. So supported, so protected…

"Yeah?" She whispered quietly, as he closed his eyes, leaning his head against hers.

"You make me feel… funny…"

Angel made a strange face, and Randy realized what he had said. He shook his head slightly, looking down at her.

"Not bad…" he started, "I mean… I've never had the feelings that I feel when I'm with you with anybody. Except my ex-fiancée. And… well… that scares me…"

"I'm sor-"

"Don't apologize." Randy said at once, "Just don't. Please…"

"What do you want me to do, then?" Angel asked, looking on the verge of tears. The way Randy was acting, honestly scared her. Here she wasn't sure what was going on in his head, and that was the most unnerving thing.

"Be mine." Randy said, almost too quickly. Maybe that would scare her. "I mean… I can't think of anybody BUT you. I haven't been able to! I don't know what to do… I'm going insane…"

Randy sat down, putting his hands on his head. He ran fingertips through his short spiked brown hair, and he closed his baby blue eyes. Angel looked flabbergasted… as she walked over, and moved Randy's hands. She sat down heavily into his lap and forced him to look at her.

"Randy…"

"Don't…"

"Randy, I want to…" Angel said quietly, "I really really want to…"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into…" Randy said quietly, as he looked at her. She just smiled.

"Neither do you…"

And she leaned down, kissing him again. This time, with added passion.
She really didn't know what she was getting herself into…