A/N: As always, thanks so much for the reviews. You guys are the best! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 12

After a much needed session at the gym, Dave was feeling much better. Not to say he cleared his head by any means, but he was at least able to expel some of his frustrations on the weights. Feeling a bit more energized, he bounded down the hallway towards the locker room. When he was only a few steps from the door, a loud crash emanated from inside. Through the wall he could hear yelling, and though he could not make out the words, he knew it was Triple H doing the ranting.

Dave sighed as he contemplated whether or not he should even enter. He could only imagine what the problem was this time.

After a moment of hesitation, he reached for the handle and stepped inside. He saw Hunter, whose yelling had since downgraded to heavy, angry pants. He saw Ric, who was – as usual – doing his best to calm The Game down. However, neither man acknowledged his presence, so Dave remained as he was. He rested his back against the wall, listening intently.

"All I know is that bitch better hope I don't run into her again," Hunter started again, his eyes gleaming with fury. "'Cause if I do, she'll be hurting a lot worse than I am."

Ric took both of Hunter's arms in his hands, shaking the younger man lightly. He could already see the blood boiling through the champion's veins, and he wanted to cut it off immediately. The last thing he needed was another fruit tray flying.

"Champ, Champ, take it down a notch," he said lightly, hoping his even tone would calm the enraged Hunter down. "Don't let a woman get you this worked up."

Judging by the fire still present in the eyes of Triple H, it was safe to guess that Ric's words had little effect on him.

"It has nothing to do with her being a woman," Hunter spat in response. "Male or female, nobody disrespects me like that! I'm the goddamn champion for Christ's sake…"

"It's not even worth your energy," Ric reasoned. "The entire locker room hates Trish Stratus. Someone will eventually get fed up with her, and she'll get hers."

Hearing her name repeated made Triple H cringe. The nerve of that blonde bimbo, giving him a low blow. He wondered how she would feel if he kicked her around for awhile.

"Yeah, she will get hers… from me," he said dangerously. "I'm going to get my hands on that little skank and show her why I'm the champ."

"Like hell you are."

Both Flair and Hunter jumped, startled by the sound of a third voice interrupting their conversation. Dave was quick to move from his hiding place, thundering past Ric Flair and up to the champion. He had heard enough.

"Excuse me?" Hunter questioned.

A hint of an amused smile curled the corners of his lips. He wasn't sure exactly how much Dave picked up from their conversation, but his statement was surprising regardless.

Dave's expression was far less amused. From the moment Trish's name was uttered he found it increasingly difficult to refrain from lunging onto Hunter. He wasn't sure what Trish did to set him off, but he was sure that he probably deserved it.

"You think you're tough?" he asked frankly. "What's the matter, you can't pick on Stacy Keibler anymore, so you focus on a woman who has nobody to protect her?"

"For your information, Trish butt into my business, therefore she becomes my business," Triple H told him. "Besides, what's gotten you feeling so protective all of a sudden?"

Dave's gaze remained flat.

"Let's just put it this way. You attack Trish, and it becomes my business," he threatened.

Though his comment was harshly serious, Hunter laughed right in Dave's face. His eyes lit up as he tossed a glance at Ric, who also found Dave's statement humorous.

"Got a crush?" Hunter teased as Ric came to stand beside him.

Swallowing his anger as he as he could, Dave turned his back to his leader. It was for the best anyway. He was about one smart-ass comment away from snapping.

"Whatever," he mumbled as he completed his now weekly ritual of storming out of the locker room.

Once he was gone, the smile quickly diminished from Hunter's face. He plopped down on the nearby couch and hugged his championship belt defensively. He wasn't sure why Dave was so quick to defend Trish Stratus, but he was going to have to find out. He could feel his animal slowly slipping away from him. He had to do something, and fast.


Trish sat silently in the empty locker room, enjoying the privacy. After her brief encounter with Triple H, she had dropped Stacy off at Randy Orton's locker room – the taller blonde's intended destination. Afterwards, she had returned to the locker room to relax before the show.

Her rest was short lived, however, because only minutes later it was interrupted by a knock on the door. Though she was tempted to ignore it, she rose and sauntered over to the door. When she opened it, a slightly disappointed frown touched her glossed lips.

"Stacy hasn't come back yet, Randy," she said to the young man standing before her. "I thought she was still with you."

"She's in my locker room," Randy replied, earning a confused look from the Canadian diva. "I was actually looking for you."

Trish was even more puzzled by his response. Her? What could he possibly want her for?

"Why me?" she asked, perplexed.

"I just wanted to thank you for bailing Stacy out earlier," Randy explained graciously. "I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to her."

"Probably tear Hunter to pieces," she said with a small laugh. "It's no trouble… I couldn't leave her hanging with a guy like him."

A small smile touched her lips at the concern Randy showed for his girlfriend. It must have been nice to have someone to care about that much. She was also pleased with the fact that, for once, she was getting a genuine thank you. It felt good to be appreciated.

"That's just the thing, Trish – you could have. You could've turned your back to it and left her, and you didn't. It takes a lot of guts to stand up to Hunter, and I wanted to personally make sure you knew how grateful both Stacy and myself are for what you did."

He had to admit he was surprised to hear that it was Trish who helped Stacy out of her jam. He still half expected Trish to slam the locker room door in his face. Maybe Stacy was making progress with her after all.

"Trust me, it's not a big deal," Trish insisted. "Somebody had to help her, and I figured I owe her one anyway… I'm glad I could help out."

Randy offered Trish a smile, and yet again she surprised him by returning it. He glanced over his shoulder, nodding hello at some Superstars he saw down the hall. Then he remembered his other motive for coming.

"Look, Trish, I don't think Hunter's going to take you nearly castrating him lightly," he said, and Trish couldn't contain a giggle. "So if you're uncomfortable being alone, you're more than welcome to come hang out with Stacy and me."

Trish smiled at his offer, but politely shook her head. She didn't like to be a burden.

"I'll be fine," she replied. "I can take care of myself."

Though it was the answer Randy expected to receive from her, he didn't argue. He was still in disbelief that their conversation went so far.

"In any case, thanks again for what you did," he repeated, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently before he stepped away from the door. "If you change your mind, the invitation's always open."

Trish grinned as he walked off, "Thank you, Randy."

Randy heard the door close as he headed back to his own locker room. He had never pictured Trish Stratus to be a personable woman, but she was actually friendly to him. Her entire demeanor was so different from what it used to be.

Maybe Stacy was right. Maybe she had changed.