Authors Note : Okay, so inspiration hit me this morning when I was out walking my dog. I honestly didn't plan on starting the sequel for a while yet...but as the Queen taught me, when an idea hits you, go with it. So here we are. The Sequel to 'Follow Me Home'. This is my second wrestling fiction, so please be nice to me lol.

Reviews are welcomed and very much encouraged, because they give me the reason to continue on with what I write. If you don't like something I write, please be constructive with your comments, and please don't throw anything...I own nothing and not a single person in this story (unless stated otherwise). If I did, I'd be as rich as Vinny Mac (who does own all this stuff) and wouldn't be doing this right now. So please don't sue ok? Hope you guys like :)

His lips were ecstasy. The confident, careful caress of his hand knew every curve of her body, every intimate spot on her petit form. The growled words and soft professions of love caused shivers of electricity to dance their way beneath her skin.

Trish was certain the searing heat of his tongue was going to leave welts on her stomach where it passed, dipping ever lower towards her heated centre.

"I love you..." Her strangled moan coursed from her throat, burning in her chest as it was released.

She could already imagine the self satisfied smile on his face, but the feeling of his hands gliding down the backs of her thighs, placing them gently onto his shoulders was blatant evidence of his pleasure at her words.

Biting her bottom lip, Trish arched her hips upwards, desperate for his tongue to make contact with her enticing warmth.

Her face screwed into a mask of annoyance as her ears registered the knock at the door.

Groaning, and not from Randy's careful attention, Trish gripped the sheets of the bed she was laying on.

"Leave it." Randy whispered, his voice low and dangerously seductive. Wanting so much to agree, Trish sighed in frustration as she knew this had to end.

Slowly, she began to open her eyes, her mind already plotting the horrible death of whomever it was that had the audacity to have disturbed her from the dream she was having.

"Just when it was fucking getting good." Trish mumbled. Slinging her legs over the side of the bed, Trish touched her hand to the back of her neck, feeling the heat burning there. Her tanned skin held a sheet of sweat as her breath came in short rasps.

Readjusting the shoulder of the black, over-sized 'RKO' t-shirt she was wearing, Trish padded her way across the room to open the door, if nothing else to smack whomever it was that had spoiled her moment with her absent boyfriend. Almost 6 weeks apart and she was desperate to have anytime she could with Randy, even if it was only in her dreams.

Wrenching the door open, Trish's eyes were already narrowed as she regarded her visitor.

"Woman! Are you still not dressed? I called your cell like a million times this morning! Why aren't you ready?" Trish sighed into the face of the glowering Candice, running her hands back through her unruly blonde hair.

"Bite me bitch. I overslept and I turned my phone onto silent okay?" Trish's reply was blunt as she turned around and headed back into the room, Candice following her in.

Glancing to her night table, Trish registered the angry '7.37' glaring at her in an eerie green shade from the alarm clock resting there. She should have been in the lobby almost an hour ago.

"I need to shower and change." Trish stated again, releasing a lazy yawn.

"So we're not getting out of here before 11am at least," Candice sighed, "at least you're already packed. I'll get John to take your bags to the car whilst you make yourself all pretty and shit."

Mumbling a few words of thanks, Trish grabbed her phone off the table and headed into the ensuite bathroom, locking the door behind her. Flipping the clam shell phone open, Trish registered with smug delight the '18 missed' calls.

Scrolling through the list, Trish couldn't help but giggle. Candice. Candice. Candice. Candice. Candice. Candice. Randy. Candice. Candice - wait...Randy?

"Fuck!" Trish spat, angry at missing a call from her boyfriend. Punching in the code for her voicemail, Trish desperately held the receiver to her ear, hoping Randy had left her a message. Breathing a sight of relief, Trish rested against the sink as her heart warmed to the sound of her boyfriends deep voice.

"Hey baby girl, it's me. I'm stuck here in some freakin' German airport, my flight is still fuckin' delayed.. God I miss you. I was hoping you were gonna pick up...maybe you're still in bed? Damn that's nice thought. I'm going crazy without hearing your voice...and that damn giggle..."

In response, Trish giggled as Randy described. As if knowing she would laugh, he continued the message he had left.

"...yeah...that one. I'm so tired baby. I've been going from city to city on the this god damn press tour and I'm just so fed up. The same boring questions, the same stuck up interviewers, not to mention the ugly kids telling me how much they love me. I just wanna be at home with you. I miss you so bad baby…"

Hearing Randy's sorrow filled sigh filled Trish with a deep sense of guilt.

"…Oh yeah…some fat kid asked me for your number today. I thought it was fucking hilarious. He said you were too much woman for me to handle, that you needed some real lovin'. Kinda made my day actually."

Smiling, Trish wrapped her free arm around her stomach as she continued to listen.

"Anyway baby. I gotta go, we're about to back in. I miss you. Call me when you get the chance. Oh, and it looks like our weekend in Toronto is off. Vince has roped me into some European television shit which I can't get out of. I'm sorry. I was really looking forward to being with you…my wrist could use the break at the very least. We'll figure something else out, I promise. I love you Trish. Call me soon. Bye baby girl."

The line went dead and the high pitched woman's voice asked Trish if she wanted to save the message. Snapping the phone shut, Trish hung her head in dejection.

She hadn't seen Randy, much less been with him, in six weeks and it was driving her slowly insane.

And now? Trish had no clue when she would be with Randy again.

It was bad enough that Randy had to drop the WWE Championship back to Edge as he had to take time off for a clean-up operation on his surgically repaired shoulder. At least if Randy was at home rehabilitating, Trish could go to him or he could come to her whilst she was still on the road.

But Vince had decided that he could put Randy to better use by being a media representative as he healed, being the young fresh face of the company. Being on his own schedule separate to Trish's, Randy was now jetting across the world every week to give presentations and talks.

Being together became even harder than impossible. Even before they had entered into a relationship, Trish had never spent 6 weeks apart from Randy. Their relationship was now limited to phone conversations and messages, and the occasional saucy picture.

Trish was desolate without Randy. It felt as though half of her had been torn from her and the rest had been left to exist very much alone. All Trish's friends had said that since they had begun dating, no-one had seen Trish as happy as she had been in the past 8 months with Randy. And it was true. Trish was constantly smiling and upbeat. Life was good. She was dating the sexiest, funniest, and most caring man she had ever met.

Their connection was deep and heartfelt, they both were crazy about each other. And Randy was unbelievable in bed.

Orton doted on her, but was still strong and masculine. Sure, he had difficulty expressing himself on occasion, but his soulful blue eyes and intimate touches were more than enough to let Trish understand what he was feeling without having to say the words.

It was as close to perfection as Trish had ever been.

But without Randy, she was a mere shell of what she had become. Trish honestly couldn't see the point in being happy if Randy wasn't there to share it with her.

Sighing again, Trish reached down and pulled the tee-shirt over her head. Stepping into the shower, Trish sniffed softly as the warm water began tumbling down over naked body.

Trish was lonely.

And it sucked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few silent tears and a shower later, and Trish was sat in the front seat of a rented SUV. In the driver's seat was one of her closest friends in the world, Lisa, who wrestled under the name Victoria in the WWE. She was the raven haired power house of the Women's Locker room, and was popular with everyone due to her hilarious jokes and dry wit.

In the back seat, acting like a pair of over-sexed teenagers were Trish's other friends, John Cena and Candice Michelle. Glancing over her shoulder, Trish noted with some disgust that John's hand had disappeared into Candice's skirt, whilst Candice's own hand was making suggestive movements on his crotch. Rolling her eyes, Trish turned back to face the front.

John had taken her advice, and had asked Candice out, who had still been hurting over Randy's break up with her. The two became a couple and were inseparable, and had been on several double dates with Randy and Trish. The blonde Canadian bombshell couldn't honestly think of a pair more suited to each other than the two in the back, even if their constant 'Public Displays of Affection' had the ability to turn her stomach.

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Lisa swore under breath as she noted what was going on.

"People please! Those seats aren't wipe clean, and I'm not dealing with Candy's sticky left overs thank you very much," Trish groaned as Candice scrunched her face up in disgust at Lisa, "if you're going to do the dirty, please do it in someone else backseat okay?"

Shaking her head, Lisa concentrated back on the road as John and Candice separated, settling for holding hands, whispering dirty little comments to each other, some of which Trish could over-hear, flaring crimson red in her cheeks in response.

"So Trisha, how's the delectable Randy these days?" Lisa began, making conversation to draw her attention away..

"I wouldn't know," Trish pouted, "I haven't seen him in six weeks. And now it's going to be even longer."

"Why?" came Lisa's concerned reply.

"Because," Trish grimaced, "Vince has got him doing some European press shit, which means he can't come to Toronto for my weekend off next week. I'm so disappointed."

"I'll bet," Lisa smiled sadly, "don't worry. We'll pick you up some extra strength long-life batteries when we stop. Y'know for those long nights alone."

Trish couldn't help but burst into a fit of sustained giggles. Lisa had a sure fire way to make her laugh, even when all she wanted to do was cry.

"I'm not going to rule it out. I'll call Randy when we get to the next hotel." Trish added, drawing her knees up to her chest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After an afternoon of serious retail therapy, Lisa had suggest that they stop for something to eat. John had agreed, leading them to a restaurant towards the centre of the town he said he had visited in the past.

In truth, Trish didn't want to eat. She just wanted to go to the hotel, dig herself in under the covers, watch 'Coyote Ugly' and be miserable. If Trish had to be by herself, she was going to do it on her own terms.

Apparently, not yet.

Plodding into the fairly busy restaurant, Trish dropped into the nearest seat, facing towards the back wall of the room. Absent mindedly, Trish fiddled with the menu in front of her, nothing looking particularly appetising to her right now. Lisa, Candice and John all huddled into the bench seat opposite her, grabbing menus and flipping through them.

"It all looks so good." Candice decided, licking her lips as she read the list of foods before her.

"Turkey and mango chutney? Who the fuck does that?" John pondered, screwing up his face at the thought.

"Grilled chicken in a spinach wrap for me I think," Lisa said, practically salivating at the thought whilst her eyes were being drawn to the exquisite desert section of the menu, "Trisha? Doesn't the pork sound good?"

"I'm not really hungry Li. I think I'll just have a salad or something." Trish mumbled, dropping the menu down in front of her. Snatching up her phone, Trish decided she needed to call Randy now. If she could just hear his voice, it would make everything better.

"Can I take your order Mademoiselle?" Came the voice from her left. Trish felt her anger flare for apparently no reason.

Why do they insist on using such obviously false French accents? It's not big and it's not clever. Trish inwardly cursed, realising she was being a bitch. It was just that she had little to no patience this evening.

"I'll have the salad. No dressing." Trish knew she was being rude by not looking into the face of the waiter as she addressed him, but she really didn't care right now. It wasn't as though she had chosen to be here anyway.

"Oui. Wait…I recognise you…aren't you that wrestler woman…Trish Stratus?" The fake-French voice sounded less than impressed at his realisation.

"No." Trish stated, being more preoccupied with her friends, who for some reason couldn't contain their laughter. Puzzled, Trish didn't see what they found so funny.

"Of course. My mistake mademoiselle. Trish Stratus isn't as…how you say…chubby?"

Trish's eyes flared open, her eyebrows shooting into the stratosphere. It was one thing to be insulted at the for being rude, but to call her fat? Trish slammed her hands down on the table before her, getting to her feet.

"Excuse me?" Trish hissed through her clenched teeth.

Turning around to face the false waiter so she could give him a piece of her mind, Trish stopped mid breath. Looking up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen, Trish had a job on her hands trying to remain standing.

Before her was six-foot-four of delicious Legend Killer, holding a single pink rose. With his head tilted to the side, Randy's lips parted into a broad smile as he watched the recognition form in her eyes. Opening in his arms, his smile was still as mesmerising to Trish as it had been the first time she had laid eyes on him.

"What…I don't even get a hug?" He mock pouted at Trish, who resolutely jumped into Randy's arms, stealing his smile into a burning kiss.

Trish seemed possessed, her lips burning into Randy's with growing intensity. Randy felt the same, holding Trish's body as tightly against his as he possibly could, and it sill wasn't close enough for him. All around them, the restaurant burst into unsure applause.

Guessing they were making a scene, Randy begrudgingly broke the kiss, planting a gentle kiss on his girlfriends forehead, as she buried her head into his chest. Trish felt his heart beating against her ear, which soothed her own pounding heart. Engulfed in the scent of Randy, Trish felt she could easily lose herself.

"See you guys later?" Randy offered the other three superstars, as slung his arm around Trish steering her towards the exist. The other three simply nodded at Randy and Trish, smiling as they exited.

Taking up the menu, Lisa's lips parted into a smile. "I guess Trish will be having pork after all."