A/N: Wow, I just wanted to say thanks for the overwhelming response I got to the first chapter of this story! I'm very excited about this fic now, I hope you all decide to keep reading and reviewing!
Part Two
A week had passed since Trish had lost her championship. The blonde diva had skipped out on the rest of the week's house shows, the thought of being around her coworkers unbearable. Truthfully, she didn't even want to attend tonight's show, but she forced herself out of the house. She couldn't let them see that she was cracking.
She found herself in front of the women's locker room, brathing deeply. She dreaded going in there. She had a feeling that whomever was in there would lay it on her pretty thickly. She wasn't exactly the most popular diva. Not that she didn't deserve the treatment. Plastering on a smile, Trish raised her head up and walked through the door, boldly stepping across the room. This wasn't so bad, she couldn't help but think to herself. That notion, of course, disappeared when she realized that she was not alone in the room.
A pair of dark eyes rested on her, and Trish dropped her bag to the floor as Stacy Keibler stared at her. It wasn't a cold stare, though. It almost looked as if she didn't know what to do.
"H-hi," the skinny diva said, gazing pitifully at Trish.
Despite the awful way the Canadian diva had treated her in the past, Stacy couldn't help but sympathize. For some reason, she saw a lot of her former self in Trish's eyes. Before she found happiness, she too walked around with that cold, unfeeling scowl on her face. And regardless of the rotten things she had done, Stacy liked Trish. She knew that the shorter woman was not being her true self, not by a long shot.
Much as she expected, Trish sent a dirty look her way.
"You've never been nice to me before, Stacy," she snapped bitterly. "Don't start now."
Instead of coming up with a retort as she normally would have, Stacy just smiled. Now that she had finally cornered Trish when she was vulnerable, she was determined to find out just what she had locked up in that head of hers.
"Sorry Trish," she replied sweetly. "You just look like you need someone to talk to... you know, a friend."
Trish raised an eyebrow at the leggy blonde. What was with her?
"Like I said, we're not friends. I don't need your friendship," she insisted, though she didn't sound very convincing.
"Oh, come on, Trish, I know you're unhappy. You need someone. Just talk to me, I promise you'll feel better afterward," Stacy suggested, plopping down on the leather couch and patting the spot next to her.
Trish glanced around the room nervously, half expecting to find the women's roster peeking out at her. This had to be some sort of sick joke. But there were no hidden cameras, no divas hiding in the showers.
She exhaled slowly. It was starting to feel like the twilight zone around here.
"Why are you acting like this?" she asked, refusing to budge. "Am I being Punk'd or something? If this is your idea of a joke, please Stacy, I'm not laughing."
Stacy sighed, shaking her head.
"I'm serious, Trish. I'm not ignoring our past, I'm just willing to put it behind me because I know you're hurting, and I hate to see anyone hurt," she admitted, her gaze unwavering.
Trish eyed her curiously. Could she really be doing this out of the kindness of her heart? After all she had done to her?
Her feet, which were apparently working faster than her mind, carried her over to the couch, and before she knew it, she was sitting beside Stacy.
"I don't owe an explanation to you, you know," she said.
"You're right," Stacy agreed. "But if you wanna get technical, I don't owe you anything, either."
Trish considered Stacy's comment... it was true. Neither side had anything to lose, it wasn't like there was much love between them. As crazy as the concept would have sounded only a week ago, Trish found herself somewhat ready to talk.
"Alright," she said, nervously biting her lip. "What do you want to know?"
Stacy eyed her thoughtfully. There were so many things she wanted to know. Still, her first question came to her almost instantly.
"Well, for starters, what's going on in your mind right now?" she inquired, shifting towards her. "I know losing the title devastated you," she paused to frown as Trish winced, "but there's more to it than that, I can tell."
Trish gave her an odd look, and then glanced away. She looked deep in thought, and Stacy's curiosity grew. The Canadian woman was a little hesitant to reveal what she was truly thinking about. Sure, she was still mourning over her loss, but another subject had occupied her mind.
As strange as it seemed, her brief encounter with Batista had left her intrigued for the entire week. Something about the aura she felt around him had her wondering what he was really like. She glanced back at Stacy, tempted to talk. Stacy had been going out with Randy Orton for some time now, and Dave was Randy's former best friend. Perhaps she could tell her more about him.
"I..." she began, garnering Stacy's attention. When the two women locked eyes, though, Trish realized she couldn't do it. As much as she wanted someone to trust, she didn't trust Stacy.
"You know what," she said, promptly rising from the couch. "I can't do this right now. Thanks for the offer, Stacy, but I'm just not ready to open up to you yet."
She cut their conversation off abruptly, missing the disappointed look Stacy sent her way.
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Dave exhaled slowly as he pulled a dumbbell up towards his body. A bead of sweat trickled past his temple as he continued lifting for a few more reps. When he was finished, he dropped the weight to the fllor with a sigh. He was about to switch to his other arm, when he realized that he was no longer alone. Remaning silent, he acknowledged Triple H with a nod.
"Hey, big man," Hunter spoke, now that he had grabbed Batista's attention. "Why the long face?"
Dave sighed, shaking his head. He could only imagine the verbal abuse he would take if he told Evolution's leader what was going on in his mind. It was stupid anyway.
"Just tired," he replied dishonestly, "had a long weekend."
Hunter eyed him curiously. He could tell right away that Dave was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. However, he wasn't sure he wanted to press him any further, considering his attitude lately. Much as he feared, it seemed that Dave was starting to frow a mind of his own. From experience he knew that mixing brains with muscle formulated a very dangerous combination. Unfortunately for him, he got the feeling that the dangerous combination would not work in his favor.
"What do you think of Trish Stratus?" Dave asked suddenly, catching Hunter midthought.
Before Batista could even process that he had asked the question, Triple H laughed loudly. He continued to do so for at least another minute, till Dave stopped him.
"I'm serious," he said. "What do you think of her?"
Still chuckling to himself, Hunter responded with a sigh.
"Oh, Dave, I don't know," he said with a shrug. "She's your typical blonde bitch. But if you want my advice, if you're looking to fuck, pick one of the new girls. That's why Vince hired 'em."
"No!" Dave cried, surprising both Triple H and himself. "I mean... no, that's not what I meant. It's just that I ran into her the other day, and I realized that we've never really spoken. I got this funny feeling around her, and it's left me curious. I just thought maybe you'd..."
"What have I told you about thinking, Dave?" Hunter cut him off with a playful grin.
Batista narrowed his eyes at his so-called leader. He did not appreciate being mocked again, nor did he find he situation at all amusing. It had to be the hundredth time in the past few weeks Hunter had poked fun at his intelligence. He clenched his fists together in an attempt to prevent the anger from boiling through his body.
"Sorry H, I forgot I'm not allowed to have a brain," he spat under a grunt.
With that, he rose, storming from the locker room. Being the brunt of Triple H's jokes was growing very old, very fast. He slammed the door shut behind him, scowling as he heart Hunter call after him.
"Lighten up, man, I was only kidding!"
"Kidding, my ass," Dave grumbled as he walked away, his fists still clenched tightly.
No wonder Randy didn't try to fight his way back into Evolution. He was starting to understand why his former best friend had said being booted from the stable was the best thing to ever happen to him. Batista found himself torn. Being a part of Evolution had boosted his career to levels he didn't think possible, and yet, he was unhappy...
His thoughts were cut off when he saw a blonde head sauntering in the opposite direction. His eyes focused on her, and his stomach flipped a little when he noticed that it was Trish. Without thinking, he walked behind her, unconsciously deciding that he was going to follow her. If Triple H wouldn't give him any information, he'd have to get it for himself.
