Authors Note: Update, especially for Kim. For the love of god, please don't throw anything...
I don't own a thing...please R&R!
It was obvious to Trish long before the bell had run that her tag team match had been a set up. Randy and Trish versus two of the largest and meanest men on the roster? Because that was an equal match of ability. Of course there was no way she could face up to Mark Henry or Umaga, Trish knew that. As tough as she was, no matter how competent a wrestler she was, Trish just didn't match up to them physically, and either one of her opponents could easily tear her in half with one arm, without even breaking a sweat. Knowing she was outmatched didn't set well with Trish. There wasn't much she could do in this match to secure a victory.
The realisation that she couldn't win against this team was bold and fired Trish into blazing anger. They might tell her she had no chance of winning, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try. Knowing she had a point to prove that she could hang with the men, Trish felt herself physically shaking as the bell rang.
She hadn't bothered to give Randy the option to begin the match, rather she plunged head first into the contest, beginning things with a drop kick onto Mark Henry's knee cap, feeling it pop awkwardly as a result of her attack. Trish had amazed herself tonight in how she had dashed back and forth, using fits and starts of speed to constantly keep herself out of the World's Strongest Man's grasp, every now again dipping closer to weaken his knee before getting out his arm's reach. Trish guessed that her constant assault on Mark Henry's knee would put him out of action for at least a two weeks, and than made her smile.
Umaga had tried his luck with Trish, but she was too fast for him. However with his manager sneering instructions, Trish didn't dare getting too close for too long against this opponent. In one awful moment however, it seemed that Umaga would catch Trish with 'Samoan Spike' as she came back at him from the ropes. By luck or ability, Trish had evaded the devastating move, instead landing a 'Chick Chick' with such force that she was certain she had dislocated his thumb.
Randy had watched his girlfriend from the ring post, terrified for her safety, but at the same time finding himself admiring Trish's intelligence to take down the giants she was faced with. When faced with unbeatable odds, this was the time Trish showed who she truly was. This was why Randy loved her like he did, because of that insatiable fire burning in her deep brown eyes.
When she had finally allowed it, Randy had taken over from Trish, using his added strength to out-wrestle Henry. Randy used his superior wrestling talent to take Henry to mat with convincing force and just a hint of the arrogance he was well known for. Once Henry was down, Orton could take control of the match, working on his opponents shoulders, weakening the base of strength further. Admiring Randy's efforts, Trish felt for the first time in that match that they might actually have a chance of beating their opponents. Of course that was before Jazz had appeared from nowhere, and ripped her off the ring apron. Trish had suspected that the Women's Champion would get involved, and proceeded to brawl with Jazz outside the ring.
The match quickly descended into anarchy, with the Spirit Squad racing down from the back to take out Randy whilst Trish was busy fighting with her bitter rival. Trish again had pre-empted group interference, and John Cena along with Jeff Hardy had come rushing down to come to Randy's aid, as Trish had requested earlier in the evening should something like this happen. If Vince and Shane wanted to try and out-number them, Trish had no problem in evening out the odds. Becoming an out and out street fight, the crowd broke into frenzied cheers as Orton, Cena and Hardy cleared the ring of opponents, standing tall as Trish planted a 'Chick Kick' into Jazz's temple before joining the others in the ring.
An irate Shane McMahon had appeared on the staging, screaming into the microphone that Trish and Randy would pay, ordering an eight man tag team contest next week on RAW. The evening's show went off the air with the camera focused on Trish, who had climbed the turnbuckle, raising her Tag Team title above her head in victory. If nothing else, she had proven that she wouldn't be intimidated, no matter what McMahon brought against her. Back Trish Stratus into corner? And she would 'Chick Kick' your head off your shoulders.
Tonight's event had seemed a lifetime ago, when in actual fact barely an hour had passed since RAW had come to a spectacular close. Trish was already back at her hotel, and adrenaline was still searing through her veins. She wanted to fight and scream and do anything to get the agitation out of her body. But the only way for her to do that was to confront the source. And he was in a hotel room.
Trish knew full well that Randy had asked her to meet him in the lobby in the next hour, but that wasn't good enough for her. She felt like she deserved an explanation for everything that was going on between them, and was determined to get one right now. If Randy was planning on telling her something, she wanted to hear it here, in a neutral area, not while she was out at dinner at could easily be manipulated.
But more than that, Trish felt like she owed him an apology of her own. She had been too quick to judge him and walk out when he didn't answer her straight away. Yes, he might not have come to her, but she hadn't exactly gone to him either. She hadn't waited for him after the match tonight, instead catching a ride home with Lisa. If nothing, Trish wanted to apologise for being difficult about everything.
Taking the long walk towards Randy's hotel room, Trish felt like she was an inmate on Death Row, walking to her a terrible fate. What if Randy was going to break up with her? What if during his time off, he'd realised he missed single life far too much, and that having a girlfriend was too much effort? Worse still, what if he had found someone else? It wasn't as though her boyfriend hadn't been sneaking around recently, distancing himself from Trish, whilst at the same time he always seemed to be with Lana. Was Randy cheating on her with Lana?
Don't be stupid Trish. Don't jump to conclusions. There's more than likely a rational explanation to everything, you just need to have a little faith.
Steeling her nerves, Trish pulled out the key card she had received from the Hotel Manager downstairs. He had recognised Trish straight away, and she had no need to feed him a false story. As far as he knew, Trish was Randy's girlfriend and so of course should be give a key card to his room, with compliments from the management.
Holding it in front of the reader, Trish took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment where she would find out what Randy had been hiding from her these past few weeks, why he had been lying to her, and what future they had in their relationship. If she could just start things with an apology, she was sure everything would work itself out.
Inside, something screamed at her to just turn and run. Run as fast and as far as her legs could carry her, that she didn't want any answer to the questions that she had. But if only for her sanity's sake, Trish needed to know. Gritting her teeth, Trish pushed the card into the reader, and opened the door. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for what she saw next.
The room was lit by several lamps, accompanied by a few candles scattered around the bed and on the bed side cabinets, giving a warm sensual mood which intoxicated the senses. There was a seductive scent of jasmine, Trish's favourite, hanging in the air, giving the room a hedonistic, passionate flavour. Music played softly in the background, a soft love song which Trish knew was one of Randy's favourites, after he had played it to her when she had stayed with him at Thanksgiving last year.
Following her eyes, Trish's breath was stolen as she noted the exquisite bed. It was a grand, four poster, sturdy wooden structure, covered in sheets of varying shades of red. Making it more alluring, were the covers sprinkled in dozens of beautiful white rose petals, cascading out onto the floor below. Adding a final touch was the bottle of champagne chilling near by, two glassed resting next to it. Trish didn't know champagne all too well, but she knew enough to realise that it was an extremely expensive bottle, the kind you could either drink or sell to feed a small third world country.
It was easily the most romantic sight that she had ever seen. Nibbling at her bottom lip, Trish didn't understand what she could see.
Not until she saw them.
They weren't obvious at first, but Trish couldn't believed she had missed then when she first opened the door. Shirtless, in only his dress pants, Randy stood holding Lana close to him, his hands gently resting on her back, their lips together in a soft kiss. It was if a fantasy of Trish's had been juxtaposed with nightmare. Her boyfriend was sharing an intimate moment in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful woman. And it wasn't her.
Trish didn't even realise she had spoken until Randy looked up to face her. His expression was one of confusion first, before becoming one of what could only be described as total abject shock.
"Oh my god…"Trish felt her eyes tingling with the threat of tears, ready to pour down her cheeks.
"Trish…wait. Just wait a second," Randy immediately took his hands off Lana, holding them up as if in defeat, trying to placate the blonde who was edging back out the door., "just wait. This isn't what you think."
"Really? And what do I think this is Randy?" Trish's voice came out, strained with the hurt stabbing into her chest. The last thing she could take now were more lies.
"Trish, please let me explain -…" Lana began, moving towards Trish. Trish regarded her with an icy glare of contempt.
"If I wanted to talk to you, I would be looking at you. I suggest you shut the hell up until I do bitch." Trish spat, narrowing her eyes, already starting to pool tears.
"Hey Trish, take it easy okay. She doesn't deserve that." Randy's voice was cool, as if he was trying to calm a wild animal from attacking. He saw his words bring hurt to Trish's tiny features, and he couldn't understand why.
"So now you're going to jump to her defence? Makes sense I suppose. She calls, you go running even when I'm unconscious. Someone's a little harsh and you leap to her defence….its touching…really…" Trish attempted sarcasm, but the tear rolling down her cheek gave away her true feeling.
"I'm not defending anyone Trish. I'm just saying there's no need to be mad. We were just -…" Trish cut Randy short, raising her hand to silence him.
"I really don't want to hear this right now. I don't think I could take anymore lies…not from you…" Trish breathed, swatting away at tears which fell unashamedly down her soft cheeks.
"Trish, believe me…." Randy started, crossing the room towards her.
"Don't," her voice came out as a strangled yell as she backed up out through the door, "don't you dare ask me to believe in anything you have to say. To think I came up here to apologise. I'm such an idiot."
"You're not an idiot Trish." Randy soothed.
"Yes I am. I'm an idiot for ever believing in anything you had to say." Trish released a sob, immediately clutching her hand to her chest. So this is what it came down to. The man she loved, cheating right under her very nose. And she'd been too stupid to even notice. Too blinded love to realised the truth before her eyes. Did other people know? Had they been laughing at Trish behind her back all this time?
Trish turned to head down the corridor, Trish couldn't think clearly in this room. Turning back to face Randy, her voice came as a cold threat. "Don't follow me Orton."
And with that Trish fled down the corridor. As far away from the hotel room, Randy and Lana as her legs would carry her. Randy's crystal blue eyes seemed widen as he tried to take in what had just happened.
All at once he flung forward, his legs pumping as he flew down the corridor after Trish. He'd the mistake of letting her run out on him once. There was no way he would do it again.
