Authors Note - Ok, here's the next Chapter. I hope you guys enjoy. Some reviews would be nice, just to know what people think of what I'm writing. A big thanks to crazybutcute20 for the review. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the story. As always, I own nothing and no-one.

"Fuck Me." Her own voice sounded groggy and distant, with a hoarse quality as though she had been smoking fifty cigarettes a day for the past twenty years.

"Anytime baby." That was definitely not me…Trish's confused mind tumbled awkwardly back to consciousness, unbearably slowly. The dull, insistent thud that had begun in the back of her neck, spread like wild fire - first to the back of her head, before resting all to comfortable behind both eyes. Painfully, Trish opened the bleary chocolate orbs, only to be assaulted by the crisp rays of morning light, slicing their way into the room from the huge bay windows. The offensive beams of light offended her eyes, so much so that they stung to the very nerve at the back of the eye. Sheer lack of comfort was enough to force the Canadian diva to drag her left arm up to shield her face from the source of the light. What Trish hadn't expected however, was the said arm to be entangled in fresh white bed sheets. Opening her eyes a fraction more, Trish noted that her entire body was enveloped in the same white sheet.

Unsteadily, Trish propped herself onto her elbows, taking in the surroundings. It was a hotel room for sure, the clean spacious room with eggshell walls and beautiful windows leading onto a balcony was a dead give away. Not to mention the en suite bathroom Trish could see from the bed, the door of which was hanging slightly ajar, exposing a delicious peach colour of the bathroom. Twisting her head, Trish locked eyes with the person who had spoken a few moments ago. Dressed only in a pair of sport designed sweat pants, he was casually resting against a chest of drawers on the opposite side of the room. From the angle Trish was looking at, his abdomen look so defined she thought about trying to grate cheese on it. Trying to focus, Trish was met with a self satisfied smile stretched across Randy Orton's face.

"Good morning beautiful. How are you feeling?"

"Like I committed onto a urine soaked floor and ate it again." Laughing at her answer, Randy's smile almost had a trace of sympathy in it…but not quite.

"That sounds nutritious. Seriously, you were pretty out of it last night. I wasn't sure if you were going to wake up this morning. But don't worry, I was on hand to perform mouth-to-mouth if needed." His voice expressed concern, but the grin seemed to so blatantly contradict it, Trish knew it couldn't be genuine. Choosing to ignore the last comment, Trish was uncannily honest.

"I can't remember a thing about last night." Touching her hand to her forehead, Trish's gaze dropped, suddenly becoming all too aware that she was in Randy Orton's bed. A quick glance beneath the sheets confirmed her worst fears. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, and nothing else.

"It's ok baby. If we had done what I know you're thinking, you'd remember it. Trust me." His self confident smirk made Trish all the nauseous.

"You really do get off on the sound of your own voice don't you," Trish spat, finding the nausea sparking anger from somewhere inside her stomach, "You strut around backstage like you're some sort of gift to the female of the species, when no-one outside your pre-teen fan club believes you're half the legend you think you are. Nobody gives a fuck about who you think you are, and even less about who you actually are!". Carefully, Trish extracted herself from the bed, glowering at the shocked Randy as she made her way to the door. Moving his lips to speak, Trish never gave him the chance. Turning as she opened the door, her eyes narrowed in utter contempt.

"The reason why you and I have never slept together is simple. No matter how drunk I am, no matter desperate I become, no matter how hot you think you are, I would never, ever fuck a loser like you. I am not a ring slut like the usual tramps you hit on. I am out of your league. For your sake, I hope you don't forget it." Locking eyes with Randy for one final venomous glance, Trish slammed the door closed behind her, stalking down the hallway away from Randy's room.

A few hours and a long, detoxing shower later, and Trish was sat in a small corner coffee shop opposite Amy Dumas. Trish's tiny hands gripped around the oversized white mug of a steaming hot latte. "I am such an ass Amy."

"No Trish, it was an understandable reaction. He hasn't exactly a squeaky clean reputation now has he?" Shooting Trish a concerned expression, Amy didn't want her friend to beat herself up unnecessarily about this.

"No Amy, I am an ass. I had no right to blow up at him like that. If it wasn't for Randy, god only knows where I would have ended up last night," Taking a long sip of her latte, Trish looked down as Amy's eyes glistened with scepticism, "Seriously girl. I was so beyond out of it, I don't think I could have made it anywhere remotely close to the hotel without his help."

"Oh come on Trish! Even if that is true, don't tell me you think that guy did it out of some streak of chivalry? Bull shit! I bet he just saw you as an opportunity for an easy lay. Its not as though you'd give it to him sober…wait…you didn't…with him…did you?" The look Amy received was more than enough to answer the question. "Just forget about him Trish. Its not like he didn't deserve any of what you said. Personally, I'm glad someone has put that egotistical ass in his place."

"Don't you think that's just maybe a little bit harsh?" Trish countered.

"No. Not one bit. The way he parades around backstage, flirting with anything with a pulse. He doesn't care whop he hurts or how many girl's hearts he breaks. He will do anything to get you into bed. And its not as though he sticks around for the next morning. He doesn't care what becomes of his heartless, penis inspired conquests." Slamming her first down on the table, Amy exhaled loudly as she relaxed back into her chair.

"You sound more than bitter there. Care to share?" Trish knew this had touched a nerve with her friend, but was surprised because she had no clue to the depth of feeling Amy had about Orton. She wondered if her friend would open up at all.

"Alright. I admit it. I'm a notch on Randy Orton's bed post." the red-head hurriedly admitted.

"You? No fucking way!"

"Hey! I was hurting ok! Matt had just broken up with me, and Adam was being distant, saying he didn't want a relationship…and…I don't know, I guess my defences were really low that night. He sweet talked and bedded me on night, the following morning he couldn't even pretend to be interested in me as a person. I felt so ashamed. I'm just glad I didn't leave the company all together, or Adam and I would never have gotten together." Instantly, Amy's face lighted up into a beaming smile. Finding it too infectious to not match, Trish joined the smile, albeit with sadness. Somewhere inside, she felt a little jealous of Lita, risking everything to be with the man she loved.

"Alright Amy, so he's a slut." Trish admitted.

"Slut? That term doesn't do him justice. Look at the statistics! Name five girls from the locker room who haven't been fucked and chucked by Randy Orton." Amy's challenge was too tempting to resist.

"Uh…Torrie Wilson."

"Last year's Wrestlemania." Amy smiled.

"No way! I didn't know that. Ok, Melina." Trish fired back.

"Back in the pre-Johnny boy OVW days, they were quite the pair of fuck buddies."

"Prissy Melina! No freakin' way. Remind me to shake her hand! Ok, I've got you on this one. Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley." Trish's smiled slowly was crushed at the sight of Amy's knowing smirk.

"If you believe the canteen talk, their little fling was the reason Randy was kicked out of Evolution and lost the World Heavyweight Championship."

"Fuck me! Stephanie and Orton? I had no idea! That can't be true! Alright, me!" Trish stated.

"Not yet." Amy muttered.

"Yet? What does that mean?" Trish placed her mug down on the table, before folding her arms across the chest in defence.

"Trish, this is me you're talking to. Don't even deny that you're hot for Orton. And who could blame you? He's fine!" Amy's giggles caused Trish's anger to flare, but she tried to appear as nonchalant as she possibly could.

"Whatever. I'm not interested in anything Randy Orton has to offer…" cut off mid sentence, Trish fumbled around in her purse to capture her ringing cell phone. Flipped the phone open, she held it against her ear.

"Hello."

"Hey baby girl."

"Who's this?"

"What? don't tell me you've forgotten out night together already. I'm hurt." Trish was certain she could 'hear' the smirk on Randy's face.

"Randy. What do you want?" At the mention of his name, Amy rolled her eyes and focused on stirring her coffee.

"I think its more what you want. More specifically what you want from me. I happen to be holding a rather lacy black bra in my hand. I think someone forgot it when they were storming out of my room this morning." Slapping the palm of her hand to her forehead, Trish could feel her cheeks flushing pink.

"About this morning? I think I owe you an apology. I was so very out of line with way that I spoke to you. I didn't mean to re-act like that and I'm sorry. Beer and Trish's mouth mixed with a hang over really don't sit so well together." Trish's voice sounded meek, causing Amy to roll her eyes even more obviously.

"Hey, no problems baby girl. You can be angry with me whenever you want. Your nose scrunches up when you're mad. It's sexy."

"I…uh…" Get a grip already Trish! He is just messing with you, and he knows he can get away with it! "…you said you had my bra?"

"Yeah. I've been holding it for you. As good as it looked on my bedroom floor, I figured you might want it back. I could give it back to you…over dinner. I already know you like the look of a good sausage…" Trish's eyes widened at the reference to their shower moment. Hurriedly she cut him off before he could humiliate her more.

"I can get it at the arena. Just drop it by the girl's dressing room. If I'm not there, one of the other girls will take it." Stopping herself before she could even more embarrassed, the Canadian Diva snapped her phone shut, dropping it down to the table, effectively hanging up on Orton. Fearfully, Trish glanced back at Amy, who was wearing a quizzical and yet far too smug smile.

"Sure T, you're not interested at all."