A/N: You guys have been wonderful with the reviews for the whole story so far, but I'm really, REALLY interested in your thoughts for this chapter. This is probably the longest chapter of the story, and I want to see if you think it works. Let me know what you think!

Part 14
"Molly?" Trish called, her knuckles rapping on the door as she pushed it open.

Part of her hoped that the brunette had gotten scared and fled the room. That same part of her wanted to run back to Dave's car and hide in their till the show started. However, the logical part of her would not let that happen. It was far too late to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, Trish reminded herself that she could do this. Molly would be doing most of the talking anyway. This would be a piece of cake.

Of course, any confidence Trish had built in herself had vanished the second she saw Molly standing in the back of the room, waiting for her. She exhaled heavily, her limbs already starting to tremble. Whether it was out of anger, grief, or sheer nervousness, she was unsure.

"Trish..." Molly breathed, cutting off the thick mass of tension which filled the room.

Trish sent her a weak nod in response, shifting her gaze away. With a hard swallow, Molly took a step in Trish's direction. She paused for a moment, but then continued to make her way over. She opened her mouth to speak, but an ominous lump formed in the bottom of her throat. She sighed... this was even harder than she'd anticipated.

To Molly's great surprise, Trish looked up at her and took the opportunity to speak.

"I'm not mad at you for being with him," she said, as though she could read the apology that Molly had been rehearsing in her mind. "It's just that you didn't tell me... do you have any how hard it was to find out on my own? To see my best friend with my ex-boyfriend in a hallway making out?"

Molly bit her lip, and Trish could see the remorse in her telling orbs. If those eyes weren't sincere, nothing in the world was.

"Trish, I'm sorry," she said, shifting her gaze away. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to hurt you. It was stupid of me in the end, because you were probably hurt worse than you would have been if I just told you."

Trish nodded in agreement. She could feel her body calming down - the need to keep her knees locked to prevent them from shaking uncontrollably had disappeared. After a brief silence, Molly forced her gaze back to Trish. When it became apparent to her that the blonde woman was not going to speak, she took a deep breath, and continued.

"You might hate me right now, and I can't say I blame you. But please, Trish, don't let my mistake ruin our friendship. You're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you over, of all things, a guy," she said, her eyes moistening a bit. She wasn't much of a crier, but there was no way to mask the emotion behind her words.

Trish hesitated for a minute, her eyes fixed on Molly. Then, without a word, she grabbed the brunette and pulled her into a tight hug. Molly fell into her embrace as a relieved smile crossed her face. She sighed and gave Trish a tight squeeze.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, Mol," Trish said to her, pulling back. "I guess I just needed to think things over, but now that I have... well, I support you." Molly gave her an elated smile in response. "But if he hurts you," she continued, her tone growing harsh, "he won't be able to walk, let alone wrestle."

Molly laughed at one she knew was a sincere promise, hugging Trish again. The fact that she had threatened Christian's life did not matter. She had her best friend back.

The two women separated when the locker room door opened, their heads turning to see who it was. Trish raised an eyebrow when Christy Hemme pushed past them in a huff, a sour expression etched on her face.

"Hello, Christy," Molly called, sending Trish a look similar to the one she'd just received.

Christy ignored Molly's greeting, storming up to Trish and getting in her face. She stared bullets into Trish, before the Women's Champion took a step back, sending the redhead an incredulous look.

"Um, can I help you?" she asked.

Molly took a step back to observe, an amused smile teasing her lips as she watched Christy's eyes narrow. What the hell was her problem?

"From now on, if you have a problem with me, you come to me with it," she said through gritted teeth.

Trish almost laughed, she didn't know how else to react. She never told anyone she had a problem with Christy Hemme. Hell, she never told anyone anything about Christy Hemme. She didn't even know her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she replied, a puzzled smile on her face.

"Don't play dumb, though I'm sure it's easy for you," Christy warned, stepping up to her again. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't," Trish shot back, her voice growing slightly testy. "But if you wanted to maybe cue me in, that'd be super."

Molly had to bite back a laugh as she watched the two women square off. The saccharine-induced attitude that Trish had mastered was slowly emerging as she stood before the Raw Diva Search winner. She wasn't sure what had gotten into Christy, but she knew Trish would not stand for it. Nobody pushed Trish Stratus around.

"Well, when you want to own up to what you did, you can come find me," she spat bitterly. "Until then, you're wasting my time."

With that, she kicked up her heels and shoved her way through the girls, stomping out of the room.

The second the door closed, Molly nearly doubled over in laughter. Though Trish was a little angry with the strange encounter, she soon succumbed to the giggles as well. The two women shook off Christy's outburst, chalking it up to some serious PMS. Molly tossed one last glance at the door before looking at Trish.

"People in this company sure are weird," she commented.

Trish smiled and nodded, "Uh-huh. Must me something in the water."


A sigh left Dave's lips as he thought about how much he hated Trish at the moment. Somehow, she had managed to drag him to the club. Okay, so maybe hate was a strong word... he still wasn't happy. Suffice it to say, he was making good on his promise to have a bad time. Trish had taken to the dance floor with Stacy and Randy, leaving him alone by the bar in the back. He took a gulp of his beer, swallowing all the remaining contents of the bottle.

Dave politely refused the bartender's offer to get him another drink. He noticed that he had begun to chug his third beer, and that was definitely a sign to cut off any further alcohol consumption. No more waking up next to a random redhead.

He supposed he should at least attempt to have a decent time... He just had a rough night. Between the video of Big Show calling him out that aired during his match with Maven and the latest pep talk from Ric and Hunter about moving to Smackdown, he had just about had enough. The fact that Eric Bischoff had not the slightest clue where the videos of Big Show and JBL came from only added to his frustrations.

He had practically given in to their request, even telling Ric he'd think about it. He couldn't believe he was appeasing them. This shouldn't have required any thought at all. He knew where he wanted to be.

"On second though, miss," he groaned, catching the barmaid's attention. "I'll have another Bud."

"Make that two, both on me."

Dave tilted his head to the side, his brow raising as Randy took a seat beside him, the younger man reaching in his pocket for some ones before slapping them down on the bar. The woman nodded, turning her back to them as she went for their beers. Dave sent Randy a curious look as the bottles were placed in front of them.

"Thanks," he said tentatively. "You didn't have to..."

"You looked like you need it," Randy said, raising the tip of the bottle to his mouth to take a swig.

"Do I ever," he mumbled awkwardly, shifting his gaze down.

"Stacy found a new playmate," Randy told him, pointing out to the mass of people on the dance floor. "Apparently she likes Trish more than me."

Dave gave him a distant nod, the corner of his lip twisting up in the tiniest of smirks. He ran his fingers down the neck of his bottle before picking it up and taking a long, slow sip. He hated feeling this way. He was in a situation where he could be having a wonderful time, and instead he sat, sulking. He felt like shit.

Randy quickly picked up on the moping. Though he and Dave were no longer best friends, and hadn't spent any time around each other in months, he could still read the big guy like a book. He knew exactly what was up.

"This is really getting to you, isn't it?" he voiced cautiously.

Dave's gaze found his once again, and Randy was met with a shrug.

"What's this?" he played dumb, taking another drink.

He couldn't talk to Randy about this. Randy was still the enemy. But no matter how fiercely he fought it, Dave wanted to talk to Randy. Maybe it was because Randy was ready and willing to listen - and who could relate more to the issue? Maybe it was because he knew Trish would not understand. Maybe it was because after all this time, sitting with Randy was strangely comfortable.

"Come on, Dave," Randy insisted, rolling his eyes. "I saw you eyeing that belt tonight, after Hunter pinned Edge."

It was true. Though he had somewhat unwillingly helped Triple H defeat Edge to keep his title, when he raised Hunter's hand in victory his focus was on one thing. The gold from the World Heavyweight Championship belt still gleamed in his desire-filled eyes.

"I..." Dave hesitated. "I just don't know. I didn't expect this decision to be so damn hard..."

Randy gave him a solemn nod. Despite being kicked out of Evolution, he was loyal to the very end. He knew it was even more so with Dave. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that Hunter was trying to get rid of him. That in itself called for questioning.

"You want to face Hunter for the title, don't you," he said, more as a statement then a question. Dave's jaw hung open like he was going to reply, but before he could, a pair of hands snaked around his head and covered his eyes. Randy grinned as an amused smile curled the corners of Dave's mouth as he placed his own hands atop the ones resting on his face.

Not a moment later, he felt a hand on his own shoulder. Craning his neck, he smiled as Stacy came to rest beside him.

"Hey, baby," he cooed as she tipped into him, grabbing his strong forearm for support. "You feeling all right?"

Her teetering form was evidence enough that she had one too many drinks. She never could hold her liquor well.

"Wonderful," Stacy replied with a giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Don't you wanna dance with me, Ran?"

Randy heaved a slightly amused sigh, wrapping a careful arm around her waist as he stood.

"I'd love to, baby," he said, holding her steady as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "But just one more song, then I'm taking you home."

The pair then made their way to the dance floor, arm in arm. Meanwhile, Dave removed the hands from around his face, spinning his barstool around.

"Boo!" Trish yelled when he came to face her.

Dave could tell by her giddy expression and by the way she leaned on him that she was not much better off than Stacy. After making up with Molly, he supposed she felt she deserved a good time.

"Finally taking a break to come see me?" he teased, sending her a smirk.

Trish laughed, "Just to tell you to get off your ass!" Another giggle slipped from her lips. "Dance with me."

Their hands folded together and fell in his lap. Dave laughed, but then a tentative gaze filled his eyes. Trish groaned, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"Let me guess," she quipped, her brow furrowing as she did her best angry Batista impression. She lowered her voice as much as she could manage. "'Leave me alone, woman. My name's Dave Batista and I'm too busy being grumpy to dance with my sweet, loving friend, Trish Stratus.' Am I right?"

Dave simply shook his head at the cheap shot. He'd show her. Rising from his seat, he gave her a defiant stare.

"Let's go, Stratus," he challenged, taking her hand and pulling her along.

It wasn't long till they found Randy and Stacy on the dance floor, but by the time they reached them Trish and Dave knew their presence would go unnoticed. The couple was already attached at the waist and locked at the lips. Rolling his eyes at the romantic display, Dave turned his attention to Trish, who had already begun to move to the music. She grabbed his hands and he too began to move with the beat. Before long, Trish took Dave's hands and put them on her waist, pushing her body closer to his.

His body instantly reacted to their close proximity, and he almost let her go. He couldn't handle being so close to her. Instead, his grip on her hips got even tighter, and he pulled her till her torso was pressed directly against his. He glanced down at her and she licked her pouting lips as her body continued to move against his. Was she trying to torture him?

Trish paid no mind to his expression, losing her inhibitions to the music as she grinded into him. It was all he could to hold back a groan. He could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck as his grip on her grew even tighter. He wrapped his strong arms completely around her slender waist so that any distance between them was closed off. His breathing grew coarse as Trish continued her motions, her hips moving right along with his.

Dave bit down on his lip, hard. At the moment, it took all of his strength not to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her right back to his hotel room. He had never had such intense urges in his life. She was luring the animal out of its cage.

He closed his eyes, but all he saw was their bodies thrashing together, this time in a bed. He could practically see her writing underneath him, gasping for breath as he pushed her over the edge...

This was so wrong.

"Trish," he spoke suddenly, realizing that he could no longer be so close to her.

She pulled his head down to hers, calling over the loud music and into his ear. "Thanks for coming tonight!" she said, before pulling back.

Dave tried to offer her a weak smile, but her eyes cut him short. He stared intensely into her chocolate brown orbs, his expression stone serious. Before he could finish a reply, Trish jolted forward, surprising the living hell out of him by smashing her lips on his. His eyes widened as her soft lips pressed against his, and immediately he let go of her. Trish was obviously drunk... he couldn't take advantage of that. But damn it, if he didn't want to taste her kiss.

Dave fought with all his might, but even he was not strong enough to battle Trish Stratus. The second she managed to slip her tongue into his mouth, he lost control. His hands were back on her, sliding down her back till they rested just above her ass. She threw her arms around his neck as his tongue plunged into her waiting mouth. He kissed her with a fervor he didn't know he had, his lips passionately taking control of hers in the middle of the dance floor.

He could feel her whimper into his mouth, her body falling limp against him, her knees too weak to support her from his dizzying kiss...

Then, she pulled away, holding tightly to him as she continued dancing. The realization of what had taken place crashed down on Dave like a pile of bricks.