Say Anything

A/N: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it got a little bit long, so I'm splitting it in half. Since this story was originally only supposed to be a OneShot, I'm surprised I managed five chapters out of it. But when Orton returned Monday night, I decided that the story about his suspension should end when the actual 60 days did. So one more chapter and this one's over. Thanks for your support. You guys really are the best. Enjoy!

After Dave had visited Randy, there was an unspoken rule amongst their circle of friends. Orton chose his own future and trying to help him any further was pointless. So they didn't mention him. If any of them had talked to him in the last sixty days, no one was admitting it. And they moved on with their lives as though he had never really crossed their paths in the first place.

"What do you think of hydrangeas?" Trish asked as she walked through the parking lot of the arena in Pittsburgh, one hand clutching Dave's as the other held her bag over her shoulder.

Raising an eyebrow, Dave looked over the cars in the lot. "I don't know. What's a hydrangea?"

"What about lillies?" Trish changed directions, gripping Dave's hand a little tighter. "Lillies are so pretty."

With a laugh, Dave wrapped his arm around his fiancee's waist. If he had to hear one more question about the wedding, he was going to lose his mind. He loved her, and he couldn't wait to be her husband. But eloping was looking like a more and more viable option.

"Or we could do daisies. Daisies are beautiful and summer-y," Trish continued to prattle on as they walked closer to the building.

"Trisha, look," Dave stopped, firmly placing both of his hands on Trish's shoulders. "I know what roses look like, okay? So if you want roses, I like the red ones. Otherwise?" He put a finger under her chin and shook his head as he spoke. "Don't know. Don't care."

Reaching for her hand again, he intended to walk toward the building. But Trish wouldn't budge as she dropped her duffle bag to the ground and dug around inside. "We're settling the flower issue right now, buddy," she threatened, hoisting a large catalog into her arms.

The tattered book had obviously been perused more than once. And the Post-It notes, hotel paper, napkins, and fast food wrappers used as book marks sent a tremor of fear up Dave's spine. "What is that?"

"That, my naive friend," a voice sounded behind him as Hunter slung an arm over his shoulder, "is the infamous Bridal Bible." He slapped his friend on the back and then bumped him with his shoulder. "And it looks like you're about to get a nice, long sermon by the presiding Reverend Stratus."

"But I'm Buddhist," Dave stated numbly, his eyes on the ground as the image of that massive catalog stuck in his brain.

Hunter laughed. "Not in a month, man. In a month, you'll be part of a whole new religion. You'll be married. Again. And you thought you left that church behind."

Trish rolled her eyes and fought the urge to smack him. As it turned out, she didn't have to when Stephanie's hand found the back of her husband's neck. "It is not that bad," she insisted, her free hand resting on her protruding belly as her husband took her hand and smiled.

As they approached the building, Stephanie bent closer to Trish, giggling and nodding over a picture in the book while Dave and Hunter tried to ignore their giddy wives. Between the wedding and the baby, they feared they might be in danger of an estrogen overload.

"Ooooh, hydrangeas!" Maria's squealing voice sounded as she approached the group from behind and fell into step with Stephanie and Trish.

"What the fuck's a hide-a . . . what's it called?" John asked, greeting his friends with the standard "guy" nod.

Maria playfully smacked his arm. "It's a flower, dumbass," she informed him.

John rolled his eyes and slung an arm over his girlfriend's shoulder as the group entered the arena and walked, en masse, toward the locker rooms.

"It's this flower," Trish pointed to the picture in the book. "And doesn't it look perfect with this dress? I'm thinking coral. For you guys?"

Stephanie and Maria started to comment until Hunter reached over and grabbed the magazine, closing it and holding it behind his back as he walked. "Enough with the fucking wedding. For months now, that's all we've heard. No more wedding talk."

Rolling her eyes, Trish narrowed her eyes. She really didn't have a problem with Hunter, but sometimes he knew how to take all the fun out of planning a wedding. "So what should we talk about, Oh Wise One?"

Turning his back, Hunter pushed the door of the locker room open and shrugged his shoulders, raising an eyebrow at the firey little blonde. "I don't know. Sports? Politics? Business? Sexually Transmitted Diseases? Bird Flu? War? Any fucking thing besides that damn wedding," he smiled a saccharine grin.

"Orton," Maria said flatly.

"Okay, so not ANYthing," Hunter began to correct himself until Stephanie pointed to something over his shoulder. Turning on his heel, he saw what had rendered the rest of the group speechless. Back in a WWE locker room for the first time in 60 days, the prodigal had returned. And it seemed that Hunter wasn't the only one who didn't know how to react.

After a long moment of silence, Randy flinched and then shook his head, dropping his bag and pushing past the crowd of his friends in the doorway. He walked quickly down the hallway, his footsteps fading as he moved further and further from them once again.

Dave instinctually reached for Trish's hand, but cringed when she turned to look at the door. Glancing back at him, she said nothing before rushing out the door after her former friend and almost lover. There was a part of him that wanted to insist that she couldn't help him anymore, but he had seen that look in her eyes. The one that said she wasn't giving up until she made some progress.

"Want me to go talk to him?" Hunter asked. He had no idea what he would say to the kid, but he knew that there was nothing his friend wanted more than to keep his fiancee away from the man who wanted her more than his own career.

Shaking his head, Dave moved into the locker room and made himself at home. If this was something Trish felt she needed to do, he would let her. He just hoped there would still be a stupid wedding to plan when she was done.