Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE.

Hope every1 had a very Merry Christmas and an early Happy NewYears 2 all. Enjoy :)

"So he completely surprised me by coming down here! Oh my God, I can't wait till this show is over. I tried to get Vince to let me take today off, but you know what an ass he can be."

Dawn's excited voice filled the small dressing room as she continued to talk about how Chris had suddenly appeared in her hotel room with a dozen tulips. Which she kept repeating was her favorite flower.

"He's so amazing. I mean, what other guy travels a thousand miles just to see the look on my face when he surprised me?" Dawn sighed as her eyes turned dreamy. She put her hands to her chest and a smile played along her lips. "I love him so much."

Christy restrained the impulse to run out of the room screaming bloody murder. Sure, she enjoyed Dawn's company, but hearing her talk about how perfect her husband was only reminded her that she had no one.

"I'm sorry Christy," said Dawn snapping out of her fantasies. "How are you and John?"

"What?" sputtered Christy, caught off guard. As far as anyone knew, she and John barely even knew each other.

"Oh sweetie, I know everything," soothed Dawn as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't get mad, but I was the one who suggested he go up to your room that one night. By the way, how did that go?"

"Fine," said Christy quickly.

"Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yea, I mean, you know, we talk and stuff. But that's it."

"Well, I guess if you like him as just a friend," started Dawn skeptically. Her instincts told her Christy was lying, but she decided to drop it; for now. "Him and Torrie seem to be spending a lot of time together," she observed offhandedly.

Christy's fingers twitched in frustration. Even now she felt the urge to slap the blonde's face. Oh, getting in the ring with her would feel good.

"Well they are going out," she shrugged. She gave herself a last look in the mirror and turned to Dawn with a smile. "How do I look?"

"Great," responded Dawn, giving her a thumbs-up sign.

"Well, I'm gonna go. I have to go over some last minute details with JBL." She was stopped as Dawn put an arm up.

"I wanted to ask you… why are you going into this match with JBL? He's only had a few partners and for a good reason. He only worries about himself when he's in that ring," said Dawn uneasily.

Christy brushed off her concerns. "Don't worry; even if he's as bad as everyone says he is, I can take care of myself."

Dawn bit her lip as she finally let her arm drop. "Well, good luck and be careful."

"I will," promised Christy. She sent a reassuring smile as she shut the door and made her way down the long hallway.

"Where have you been?"

A smug smile spread across the redhead's features as she heard the familiar voice behind her.

"John! How are you?" Her smiled widened as she caught sight of his confused expression.

"I tried calling you and you didn't answer. Whassup?"

"Nothing! I guess I was just too busy talking to my mother. You know, the one you cursed out last time I let you into my hotel room?" Christy asked sweetly.

John eyed her warily. "Is that what this is about?"

"No, Johnny, I'm just so excited about our match tonight!"

"What the hell is up with you?" asked John angrily. "Why are you getting in the ring with that idiot?"

Christy's smile faded as she rolled her eyes. "I really wish everyone would stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

"Where'd this attitude come from?" John took a step forward to take her hand but Christy placed her them on her hips.

"What attitude? Maybe you just don't know me, John. And I don't really want you to. You think I'm stupid enough to believe that your just gonna dump your girlfriend for me?" Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, embarrassed she was getting so worked up.

"You believed me last night," argued John, an incredulous look on his face. "What changed?"

"Nothing changed, John ," replied Christy drawing out her words. "I actually had to listen to my mom bitch me out for an hour because of your wonderful conversation with her." Christy paused as John attempted to reply, but she reached out and touched his forearm. "My mom may be a bitch, but she's not stupid." Christy closed the space between them until she was inches from his face. "And what she said made a lot of sense."

"What'd she say?" asked John, breathing a little heavier. His muscles tensed as he heard Christy laugh softly.

"Guys like you only want excitement. And what's more exciting than cheating on your girlfriend?" Her hands went to brush against his ribcage as she ran her nails lightly over his abs. He controlled the shiver that was taking a hold of his spine as he licked his dry lips, but she put a finger to his lips to shush him.

"Don't talk baby, just listen. When I came into this company, I had a lot of high hopes. I pictured a big happy family, where everyone got along. I never got it at home, so I thought I would find it here. But the only thing I found were a bunch of horny wrestlers and a shitload of even hornier girls that would drop their pants for anyone who told them they were beautiful." Her finger withdrew from his lips and she stood on tiptoe to take his bottom lip between her teeth. She bit lightly and let go before he had a chance to act.

"I may be a lot of things, John, but I wont be a slut." Her words were spoken with an air of finality. The playfulness was gone from her eyes and she raised a brow, as if waiting for a challenge.

John racked his brain for something to say. She was making absolutely no sense right now. Sure, he understood she didn't want to be seen as a slut, but where the hell had that come from? Did she really believe John was the kind of guy who got some perverted thrill out of cheating on his girl? His eyes narrowed. He had been categorized, labeled, and judged all his life. And frankly, it was getting annoying.

"You think you got me all figured out don't you?" his voice came in a hiss which startled Christy. But he was completely calm. Except for a small vein ticking on the side of his head.

"You think you're the only one who's got it hard? Do you think I like all the stereotypes people pin on me because of the way I dress and the music I listen to?" His voice came out harsh, as if he had wanted to say all this for a very long time.

"I don't-"

"Shut up," spat John roughly. "I don't give a fuck what you do or don't. You had your little moment; I'm having mine." Christy paled as he glared at her. It seemed like she had just opened a Pandora's Box, and it didn't sound like he was stopping anytime soon.

"You know, I thought the only fake thing about you were your tits, but I guess its your personality too. That or you're a schizoid, which is it?" He took one of her arms and gripped her hard enough to make her gasp. "I'm tired of this bullshit. I told you I was gonna break up with Torrie to be with you, but that wasn't good enough, was it? No, I'm a pervert who likes to cheat on his girlfriend."

"Let go," said Christy fiercely. He was starting to alarm her, his blue eyes shining so magnificently.

"Why you scared? Am I abusive now too?" John laughed bitterly. "What I wouldn't give to get inside that head of yours," he almost crooned, stroking Christy's hair. Christy's eyes closed tightly, as if wishing him away.

"I'm tired Christy."

His words came so softly, Christy wasn't heard she heard him correctly.

"I'm tired of people telling me I don't deserve the championship. I'm tired of having to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. I'm tired of all the crap you're putting me through." His eyes had dimmed considerably, almost black now. He loosened his hold, but didn't let go.

"I had sex with Torrie yesterday." Christy wrenched away from him.

"I'm happy for you," she snarled sarcastically.

"I just thought you should know," he said, looking past her shoulder. "I don't know what you want from me," he started hesitantly, as if not sure of what he was going to say. "But I'm tired of trying to please everyone… and always coming up short."

Christy's heart softened for a moment, but her mothers words rang in her ears once more.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," she said curtly. "We have a match; you wouldn't want all your adoring fans to see you like this would you?"

John eyes finally snapped to hers, and Christy almost stepped back with the intensity they held.

"I don't know who made you like this. But if you don't get your shit together, I'm giving up."

Christy mouth went dry as his words struck a nerve. She started to speak, but this time it was John who put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh, wouldn't want anyone to see you like this would you?"

(X X X)

Trish Stratus walked across the carpeted hall with a new bounce in her step. Her last meeting with Stacy hadn't gone quite as expected, but that didn't matter now. She understood why Stacy was pushing people away. Dave, the most wonderful man in the world, had explained it all.

After Stacy had stormed out of the restaurant to leave Trish behind, she had decided to tip her chin up and find out what was going on. She hadn't made it to Stacy's room, but instead encountered a hungry Dave, who was on his way to get something to eat. He had asked for her company, and of course Trish had accepted.

After prodding delicately as to why she was being so quiet, Trish had spilled. Maybe it had something to do with the way Dave's hand kept stroking her leg, or the way his eyes had gazed into hers like he could see her very soul, but she had told him everything. It had been scary at first, realizing she had no control of her tongue when it came to Dave, but eventually she surrendered.

She began by telling him about Stacy's conduct, and he had nodded as if he understood perfectly. When she finally finished, Trish had taken a big sigh and waited to be told she was blowing things out of proportion. But what he had told her made perfect sense.

She was tired. Being Babe of the Year took its toll. Hell, just being a diva could get exhausting. But Babe of the Year carried more responsibility. Everyone would be on your case if you so much as gained a pound, mocking you behind your back and telling anyone who would listen how you didn't deserve the honor. Trish would know; she had gone through it three times already. But Stacy had it even harder. She was one of the only divas who had been there longer and was still used solely for T&A. She hardly ever got matches, and if she did, it was to put someone else over. Of course people talked. And she must have been tired of hearing it. So she had taken out her frustrations on the person closest to her; Trish.

Trish remembered nodding her head similar to one of those bobble head dolls. All Dave had said made sense. Of course, the calm way he explained everything would have made rocket science make perfect sense too. But Trish didn't hold grudges against her friends. And Stacy had been there for her. So she would return the favor. If it meant she had to take some attitude, so be it. She wasn't guaranteeing she wouldn't blow a fuse herself once in a while if Stacy got too bitchy, but she was trying wasn't she?

Finally reaching the door, Trish knocked. Almost immediately, the door opened. Trish frowned as she saw the person before her.

Stacy stared back expressionlessly as she moved aside to let her through. She was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a large sweatshirt that almost swallowed her. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying, and sure enough, Trish saw a tissue in her hand.

All at once, Trish realized there was more to it then the hectic schedule or the pressure that came with being Babe of the Year.

"Stacy sweetie what's wrong?" Without waiting for an answer, the smaller diva reached across and held Stacy in her arms.

"Stacy," tried Trish again softly. She pulled back to look at Stacy's eyes, but she averted her gaze. There was something Stacy wasn't telling her, that much Trish was sure of. She remembered how Stacy always said eyes were the windows to the soul. Her soul must be very troubled if she couldn't look her in the eye, thought Trish, worry etched in her features.

"Stace," she said, shaking her friend slightly. She was hoping to get rid of the vacant expression on the taller divas face. "What's wrong?" Trish took her hand and gently led her to the armchair.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Trish a little more determined.

"I'm sorry Trish." Stacy dabbed at her eyes to keep the tears from running their course down her cheeks.

"Sorry for what?"

"For saying those things to you the other day. I was just so mad…" Stacy's features darkened for a second, as if remembering. "I just want you to know that I really love you," she said softly, a faint smile on her lips. "And I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me. You've been my best friend and I want you to know I would never hurt you on purpose."

"What is this about?" asked Trish, utterly confused. She took a seat on the edge of the coffee table and sighed. Ok, so this probably wasn't about Babe of the Year. But if not that, then what?

"I cant tell you," whispered Stacy. Her eyes darted up to meet Trish's for a split second, but that was all she needed to register the hurt on the small blondes face.

"You can tell me anything, Stace, you know that," said Trish firmly.

"Just trust me when I say I'm doing this for you. And please don't tell Greg about this. I don't want him asking any questions."

"What does Greg have to do with this?"

"Just please don't tell him anything. He wont leave me alone if he finds out I'm like this. And I… I cant deal with him right now."

Trish gave a troubled sigh. This was getting stranger by the second. "I thought me and Greg were your friends."

Stacy nodded. "You are, and I swear I'll tell you both everything. But for now can you just drop it? And not tell anyone?" her eyes pleaded for Trish to consent. Trish shook her head, unwilling to leave it at that. But it didn't look like she was getting much out of her tonight.

"When will you be able to tell me?"

Stacy's hands tightened around the tissue as she looked away. Trish was about to ask again when she answered.

"I'll tell you as soon as I figure out what to do."

Trish frowned. That wasn't very specific. But she would have to take it.

"Can you figure it out soon? Cuz your making me look bad."

Stacy cracked a smile as she raised a brow. "How am I making you look bad?"

Trish rolled her eyes dramatically. "Well I was Babe of the Year three years running. How do you think it makes me look that I got beat by you?"

Stacy laughed. "I think I look great."

"Oh yea," said Trish sarcastically, looking at Stacy's attire. "Red nose's and sweats are sexy nowadays."

Both divas laughed, grateful for anything to lighten the mood.

A soft ring interrupted them as the phone beside Trish lit up. She handed it to Stacy and watched as the leggy blonde's face reverted to sadness again.

"Hello?" answered Stacy in a meek voice.

Trish looked on as she shut her eyes and covered her face with the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt. Whoever it was, Stacy didn't want to talk to them.

"Why? No… all right. Yes… yes. Bye."

"Who was that?"

"No one. Listen Trish, I'm gonna take a shower and try to get some sleep. I'll talk to you later ok?"

Trish stood up eyeing Stacy doubtfully. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? We can rent some movies and eat junk food."

Stacy shook her head wearily. "I'd like that, but I think I'm just gonna go straight to bed. Gotta get my beauty rest to look half as good as you," she joked.

Trish nodded and opened the door to go out. Changing her mind, she turned back to Stacy. "Call if you need to talk," she said seriously. "Whatever it is, I'll be there for you."

"Thank you," whispered Stacy as she gave her a hug. "That really means a lot to me." She pulled back with a genuine smile.

"Talk to you later then."

"Night," said Stacy as she shut the door. She closed her eyes for a second taking deep breathes to try clear her mind. Pushing away from the door, she strode into her room. She was going to have to hurry. Although her hands were trembling as she shifted through her clothes, she knew what she had to do.

(X X X)

"And introducing first from Los Angeles, California, Christy Hemme!"

There was less pep in her step as Christy made her way to the ring. And with good reason. After her run in with John, he had walked away, leaving her to stand alone until finally , she had snapped to her senses. Personal problems or not, she had a match and she didn't intend to screw it up.

After being hassled by Orlando Jordan until she had been forced to threaten to kick him in the nuts, he had left her and JBL alone to discuss the impending match. Christy had noticed the gleam in the big mans eyes. She felt uneasy, but she had told herself he couldn't do anything too bad, right?

Not to worry, he had told her, flashing his toothy grin. He would take care of business with that Cena boy, and when he needed a breather, Christy could come in for a bit. If there was ever any trouble, she could tag him back in. She could trust him. But something was wrong. Christy could feel it in the pit of her stomach.

She ducked in between the ropes smiling at the crowd until her music died down.

"And her tag team partner from New York City, John Bradshaw Layfield!"

Christy licked her lips as she shifted from foot to foot. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. Damn his entrance was long. The swelling music only served to increase her anxiety. Finally, he stepped out of the limo. He took his hat off and smiled widely as the crowd booed him.

Christy forced another smile as he walked down the ramp. He winked at her as he got in the ring. After posing, he joined her in the middle, speaking out of the side of his mouth.

"Remember what we talked about."

"Yea," replied Christy lowly as she watched Tony raise his mic again.

"And one half of the opposing team, from Boise, Idaho, Torrie Wilson!"

Christy involuntarily flinched as she heard the music play. After what seemed like hours of poses, she strutted down the ramp, slowly raising herself up on the apron. She looked at JBL and Christy and shook her head, a smile spreading across her face. Instead of joining them in the ring, she turned her back and looked towards the ramp.

"Haling from West Newbury, Massachusetts, the WWE Champion, John Cena!"

His music started to play and as Christy watched from the corner of her eye, JBL's lips were moving. She leaned in inconspicuously to try to catch what he was saying but only heard snatches.

"Punk think he can take the belt… wont know what hit him."

Christy was about to turn to him to ask what he meant when she felt the ring shift slightly. She fixed her gaze instead on the two people opposite from her. As she watched, Torrie stepped in front of John and planted a kiss on his lips. Catcalls erupted from the crowd, but Christy hardly heard them. She steeled herself from lunging across the ring and tackling Torrie to the ground.

The bell rung and all four eyed each other. Finally, Christy backed away to her spot. After Torrie made her way to her corner, the men circled each other.

John seemed to be ready to charge at any time, but he didn't. Instead, he waited until JBL did so, and side-stepped him, so the big man fell against the ropes. Before he could get himself straightened out, John was on him, raining blows to the back of his head. He stopped only when the referee pulled him off and even then his hands were trembling with the desire to hit him again.

While JBL was regaining his breath, John dared a quick look at Christy. Her hands were clutching the top rope so hard, her knuckles had turned white. Her face was contorted in worry, and at that moment her eyes widened.

John reacted a second too late. He felt his head snap back as JBL landed a hard right. Then came a left. And another right. John swung blindly, connecting with a right fist of his own. Before he knew what was going on, he found himself on his back, staring up at the lights, courtesy of a clothesline from hell.

He winced as he felt a hard kick to his left side. Rolling onto his stomach, he let out a gasp of pain when he felt another kick, now to his back.

"John, what the hell are you doing?"

John bit his lip as he heard Torrie's voice. Why didn't she try coming out here and being stepped on by a three hundred pound jackass? He felt anger seeping into him as he got up. He was favoring his left side, but he paid it no mind as he gave one of his own clotheslines.

He squatted as he waited for JBL to get up and grabbed his hand to swing him into the ropes. John bent low, preparing to fling the man over his head as high as he could. What he got instead was a kick to the gut that sent him straight to his knees.

"Ohhh," he breathed painfully. He clutched his stomach to try dull the throbbing pain, but instead was driven down into the mat with an elbow to the back.

"Might as well give me that belt now boy, I'm gonna take it just like I took that redhead in my corner."

John hissed in a breath as he felt his temper rise. Casting JBL's hands aside, he swung his fist and connected. JBL's eyes widened in surprise at his sudden display of strength. John reached out and flung him against the ropes. Just as JBL was rebounding, John hooked his arm under JBL's and performed a hip toss. He grimaced as he too hit the ground harder than he expected but got up again. Hearing the crowd get louder, he waited for JBL to come at him again to do a spin out power bomb, hoping to finish the match quickly. But JBL scampered away from him, well aware of his intentions. Before John could get to him, he heard the sound of two hands connecting.

The tag had been made.

(X X X)

Randy Orton lip's turned down faintly as he looked at his reflection. Damn tie wouldn't stay in place. He gave an annoyed sigh as he untied the whole thing and started again. He smirked as he finally finished and looked down at his watch. She was late.

He turned back to the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Damn he was hot. He let out a low laugh at this. He knew how vain that sounded, but he was telling the truth wasn't he? His eyes flitted to his watch again, and he frowned. He shouldn't be kept waiting. He wasn't a very patient man, and he expected schedules to be made to accommodate him.

A knock was heard as he was about to pick up the phone to find out where she was. Instead, he slipped it into his pants pocket and opened the door.

"You're late," he stated tersely.

"Well what did you expect? You only gave me an hour to get ready."

Randy smirked as he draped an arm around her shoulder and shut the door behind them.

Stacy Keibler tensed at his touch. She didn't want to go. The last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and go out, but how could she refuse?

"Well, you clean up pretty quick," observed Randy, sweeping his eyes over her short blue dress. She had listened to his orders, he noted. He had told her to wear blue to match his shirt.

Stacy cleared her throat as a blush crept into her cheeks. She shouldn't feel flattered. His compliments were probably insincere anyways. Still, she couldn't help the flutter in her stomach as he rested his hand on the small of her back.

The elevator doors closed with a ding and Stacy leaned against the wall. She had never liked elevators. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she and her younger brother had gotten stuck in one when they went to visit their father's office and later found he was too busy screwing his secretary to know. Whatever the reason, she had always been reluctant to step into one.

She jerked back suddenly as Randy placed the flat of his hand against her abdomen.

"What are you doing?"

His only response was to chuckle and put his finger under her chin. Stacy held her breath as he leaned in towards her. How she would have loved to push him away. Away from her, from her friends, from her life. But she found herself helpless as his lips took hers.

Randy let his other hand wander lower to grip her butt. She had a very nice ass. So full and firm. He twitched as he thought about her. Deepening the kiss, he let his hand skim down further to the hem of her dress. Sliding his hand under the soft material, he softly crept up her thigh.

She tried to pull away just then, but he held her prisoner against the wall. Taking her hair in his hand, he pressed against her lips harder. So she thought she could hurt him with words did she? Well, she would find out soon enough he could hurt her far worse then she could ever dream of hurting him.

Stacy made a noise in the back of the throat that was something between a moan and a whimper. She was scared of him, though she would never tell him to his face. She was scared of how little self restraint she had around him. How he could make her forget that she was doing something so wrong.

Randy's lips curved into a smile as he felt Stacy respond to him. It was a slight movement, her body folding into his, but he took notice. His fingers traced teasing circles against her thigh as she pressed against him. Summoning all his self-control, he pulled away abruptly, letting out a small laugh as she glared at him.

"Asshole," she muttered, trying to smooth her dress down and regain her breath.

"I thought you didn't like me?" he asked innocently.

"I don't," snapped Stacy combing her fingers through her hair. She stared upwards as she blocked out his presence. A hard task since she was well aware of the heat he provided so close to her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors suddenly opened.

(x x x)

"Reservations under Orton."

The small man with a neat black mustache glanced down at the list and located the requested name.

"Party of two?" he inquired. Randy nodded listlessly as he looked around the swanky restaurant.

"You requested a booth, Mr. Orton?"

Randy's eyes flashed mischievously as he remembered that little detail. "Yeah."

Stacy shot him a confused look but followed him wordlessly when he guided her to their seat. With much satisfaction, Randy noted almost all eyes were on them. Which suited him just fine. He craved attention, in and out of the ring.

He let Stacy slid in first, and followed close behind, wrapping an arm around her waist when she tried to move further away.

"I want you close to me," he murmured.

Stacy lip curled in disgust as his hand rested heavily on her knee. What the hell was she doing here? She had planned on taking the day off from the world, and here she was now, being paraded around like some sort of trophy for Randy's own amusement. She thought about her rehearsed lines as she took a nervous sip of her water. She would tell him after they ate, she decided. A man with a full stomach was easier to deal with.

"That massage of yours really worked," he said softly. His voice caused Stacy's hairs to stand on end and she forced a cool expression on her face.

"I'm glad." She started when she felt his hand squeeze her knee and sweep along her thigh. "Could you please get your hand off me?"

Randy shook his head as he pretended to be engrossed in the menu. "I like where I have it now," he muttered. "But maybe I should put it somewhere warmer?"

Stacy gasped as she felt his finger brush against her. "Get your fucken hands off of me," she hissed under her breath. She grabbed his hand to pull it away, but he pushed her away.

"Don't make a scene babe." His hand slipped in further between her thigh. Stacy uttered a soft cry of defeat as he began to flick the pad of his thumb over her clit. She glanced at him to see he had a wide smile on his face. Bastard, she thought angrily. However, by now her mind had grown clouded. Her breathes were coming in sharply. She gripped the edge of the booth desperately, trying not to make a sound.

She almost dropped to the floor when he slid a finger into her. Her hips began to move in sync with his thrusts. Stacy bit her lip hard as she opened her legs further. She heard him chuckle in triumph, but she didn't care anymore.

Randy shifted slightly in his seat to go in deeper. To anyone else, it looked like they were just sitting close. But what was going on underneath the tablecloth would have surprised them all. He eased a second finger into her as he leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"Doesn't look like you hate me now."

Stacy barely registered what he said. She was biting her lip so hard she was surprised it wasn't bleeding. She buried her head against his neck to hide her face from anyone's eyes. Letting out a hot breath she whispered back,

"Appearances can be deceiving."

Randy suppressed a shudder at her husky voice. Her lips had brushed against his ear when she had spoken and it had sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. He turned in his seat to face her and peeled one of hands off the edge of the seat. He placed it across the growing bulge in his pants and held her wrist tightly as she struggled to pull back.

"Tit for tat, Stace."

Stacy grimaced as his words were followed by a hard thrust of his fingers. Reluctantly, she placed her hand across him again. Randy leaned forward to kiss her neck lightly. "Right there baby," he whispered against her ear. His tongue flicked out and ran along her outer ear. Stacy swallowed hard to keep the moan inside. His fingers were starting to move faster. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his shoulder to hide her face. She didn't want him to know how much she was enjoying this.

"Are you ready to order?"

Randy's fingers pulled out so suddenly she almost fell again in shock.

The waiter raised a brow. "Are you feeling well miss?"

Stacy nodded. "Fine," she managed to choke out.

"It's okay honey," soothed Randy, smirking. "I'll order for you. She'll have the curried shrimp salad, no dressing, and I'll have the Braised Steak in Madeira."

Stacy glared at him while she pulled her skirt back down discreetly. As soon as the waiter was gone, she faced him.

"A salad?"

Randy shrugged as he took raised his glass to his lips. "Gotta keep you in shape babe."

Stacy stared at him with an indignant expression. "I can watch my figure myself," she snapped. She sighed as she looked down at her hands. She might as well get this over with already. She didn't know how much more she could take of his cocky attitude.

"I've come to a decision."

Randy eyes swept over her."And?"

Stacy licked her lips, uneasily. Her hands kept shaking and she preoccupied them by playing with the napkin. "I'm gonna tell them."

"Tell who what?"

Stacy sighed as she continued. "I'm gonna tell Trish and Greg. I cant be your little slut any longer," she said, gaining confidence with every word she spoke. "I cant just follow you around doing whatever you want for the rest of my life with that threat hanging over my head-"

"I was gonna get bored eventually," cut in Randy. He noted with satisfaction the shocked look on her face. Truth be told, he had no intention of letting Stacy go. But he couldn't let her know he had grown to like her body so much. He couldn't let her know how good it felt to be inside her. No, he had to act like he didn't give a damn.

"Well, good," retorted Stacy. "Because I'm telling them and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Randy's eyes flickered over her shoulder for a split second. He looked at her once again and leaned forward. "How bout one last kiss?" Before she could answer, he curved his hand around her neck and pulled her to him. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and noticed she hadn't struggled against him this time.

Stacy put her hands on his chest, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away. Damn it, he was a great kisser. And this might be the last time she had a chance to kiss him. She let his tongue roam her mouth before her conscience finally started to set in. She pushed him away suddenly.

That's when she noticed he was wearing that infamous smirk. But he wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking at something over her shoulder. Stacy felt a sense of dread before she even turned around.

There, standing with a look of hurt and shock on her normally pretty features, stood none other than Trish Stratus.

(X X X)

Christy froze for a minute before she realized she had been tagged in.

"Get in there!"

JBL's voice brought her back to reality and she ducked between the ropes, her whole body shaking. John stood looking at her steadily. He stepped back to allow Christy room to get in. The crowd cheered as she got in the ring. But there was only one person Christy could focus on in an arena filled with thousands.

"Tag her in."

Her voice came out calmer then she felt. Inside she was shaking. Her heart was beating so hard she was afraid he could hear it above the roar of the crowd. But she continued to stare into his eyes, unflinching.

Nodding slightly, John walked to Torrie's corner and made the tag. She ducked in between the ropes, but before she even had a chance to straighten herself out, she felt a hard dropkick to the chest, forcing her to back into the turnbuckle.

Christy rose to her feet as she noted in satisfaction that Torrie had doubled over. She stepped towards her and grabbed a handful of her hair, dragging her to the middle of the ring. Before she could do anything else, she felt a sharp pain in the stomach and found herself falling backwards as Torrie tackled her. She attempted to get up but found that Torrie was straddling her, hands already in her hair as she proceeded to bang her head against the canvas.

After what seemed like hours, the ref finally managed to pull Torrie off. Christy clutched her head in an attempt to relieve the pounding. She gasped in pain as she felt a hard kick to the stomach. She rolled to her side, but was only met with another kick. She attempted to get up but Torrie grabbed her head and pushed it back down as she stepped over Christy's head. Before she knew what she was doing, Torrie had taken her arms in her hands and was pulling up. Christy let out a sharp hiss of breath as she realized that Torrie was stepping on her hair. She struggled to get her arms free, but Torrie only pulled harder. Her hair felt like it was being torn out.

Where the hell is the referee? thought Christy desperately.

All of a sudden, Torrie let go. Christy held her head as she forced herself to get on her feet. She raised her hand as she saw Torrie coming at her and swung with all her might. A resounding slap was heard and Christy tackled her to the ground once more. She did the same as Torrie had done, intent on making her head throb just as much as hers was.

She felt the ref pull at her arm and she backed off. She lunged at Torrie once again but was met instead with a clothesline. Torrie circled her, trying to stand again on Christy's hair, but Christy swung her leg and hit her square on the head. Torrie stumbled away and Christy raised herself to her knees. She hit a hard right aimed at Torrie's sternum. Torrie reeled back but came at her again, and this time Christy was able to get to her feet. She hit another right, and was able to get a forearm across her face.

Christy stood apart for a minute to regain her breath and made the mistake of looking into his corner. His eyes were fixed squarely on her. His jaw was set, his blue eyes seeming to stare right through her.

She forced her eyes away and went to Torrie. Torrie was able to get shot in, which sent Christy back a couple of steps. Before she could react, she found her hair being pulled and led over to the turnbuckle. Her head was sent crashing in and she let out a low groan at the impact. Hardly knowing where she was, Christy felt herself being pulled away from the turnbuckle, and being slammed, back first, against the one diagonal from it. Shaking off her haze, Christy laid her arms across the two top ropes and jumped up just in time for her to avoid Torrie. Christy flipped over Torrie, wrapping her arms around her waist as she did so, performing the Sunset Flip. She saw the referee pound the canvas twice and as he was bringing his hand down to pound for the last time, Torrie jerked away, breaking the pin.

"Damn it," hissed Christy. She walked around behind Torrie, setting her up for the Twist of Fate. However, Torrie seemed to sense this was coming because she pulled away from her.

"Stupid bitch," Christy heard her say. Christy clenched her fists as she followed her, but it was too late. Torrie had tagged in John.

Not caring who the legal person was anymore, Christy rammed her whole body into Torrie's who was sent sprawling off the apron and to the ground. Christy was about to follow her out there, but she felt a pair of arms wrap around her and lift her away from the ropes. She struggled to get away, but they only tightened around her.

Suddenly, she lifted her feet to the top rope and pushed back hard, sending them both to the ground. Christy yanked the arms off and stood up quickly. John got up just as quickly and glared at her.

"Get him in here."

"Afraid I'll kick your ass?"

John snorted. "Yea, real scared," he said sarcastically. "Now get him in here," he commanded.

Christy gave him a defiant stare, but she went to her corner and tagged in JBL. The big man wasn't even given a chance to get in before he was pushed back to the ground. John stepped out after him, a look of fury in his eyes as he forced JBL to his feet only to send him crashing to the steel post, shoulder first. JBL let out a howl as he cradled his arm, but he wasn't given a chance to recover as John took his head once again and led him to the announce table. He hit head first, a loud thud accompanying the impact. JBL fell to his knees as his head started spinning.

John glanced up at the referee, debating whether or not to continue his attack on the outside. As he saw that the ref was counting them out, he rolled into the ring.

JBL saw his chance at once. With John's back turned for a brief second, he scrambled to get a chair. Keeping it low so no one would see it, he made his way to the ring. He couldn't care less if they got disqualified. The only thing that mattered was hurting that Cena kid.

The ref immediately spotted the chair and tried to wrench it out of JBL's hands. Intent on keeping a hold of it, he didn't see the John coming up behind him and hitting with a forearm to the back of the neck. The chair fell out of his hands as he turned around to give John a thumb to the eyes. John stumbled back into the corner as he held his eyes, trying to blink away the haziness. JBL caught the chair just as the ref was about to slide it out.

"I don't think so," he muttered under his breath.

Christy flinched as John landed in her corner. He shook his head as if to clear away cow webs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a gleam of steel. To her horror, she saw that JBL had the chair raised over his head, ready to bring it down on John's skull. Christy summoned up all her strength as she took John's arm and pulled him away from the corner. The chair bounced off the turnbuckle and almost his JBL in the head, but he caught himself in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" he roared.

"You cant hit him with that!" protested Christy. Before she had even finished her sentence, however, she saw JBL raise the chair over his head once more. Thinking fast, she reached in between the ropes and pushed John away. But she didn't move fast enough. She saw the light reflecting off the polished steel as it was brought down again. She attempted to step out of the way, but she heard the chair connecting long before she felt any pain.

The sickening thud of the chair echoed in her ears as she felt the whole arena close in and fade away into darkness.