Sometimes when I'm in the shower stories start to write themselves...this is one of those times. Completely AU, John and Lita were NEVER wrestlers. One-Shot, Review please :)
John Cena snuck quietly out of the back door of the studio, trying to be as discrete as possible. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with any fans right now. He was agitated enough and he just wanted to get home and relax, being on the set all day had drained him and he was ready to be John Cena the normal guy for a minute, instead of John Cena the movie star.
Today had been gruelling, from the eight hours on set to the two hour meeting he had just sat through. And to make matters worse he had stumbled across memories that he didn't want to have sitting there at that conference table.
As usual he had grown tired of all the business talk, research and figures weren't his favourite topics. He was much more content just saying his lines and doing his stunts. But his manager insisted he be part of the process, at least until he had a few more pictures under his belt. So when he found himself yawning to no end he dug out his wallet to riffle through, the usual contents were there, an endless supply of girls phone numbers, crinkled up twenties, receipts and ticket stubs...but he suddenly came upon something he wasn't expecting to
His fingers brushed across the thick glossy square of paper as he pulled it out of the leather confinement. It was almost shocking to see it in his hand, he just stared at it, not able to wrap his mind around the fact that he still had the picture.
The ripped edges were now buckled from its travels in his wallet but the old photo booth picture still showed the same image. It was of him and Amy, his cheek was pushed up to hers as he laughed at her tongue protruding from her mouth. The memory made him smile and cringe all at the same time, because it was a representation of all the fun times they'd had together but at the same time she wasn't a part of his life anymore for a reason.
Ex wives were a dime a dozen for the West Newbury native, but for some reason she stuck out from all the rest. She wasn't a gold digging playboy bimbo like the others, she was a rough around the edges rocker who taught him to be goofy again.
But like all good things it came to an end, he wasn't what she wanted, he wasn't able to be the person she needed in her life and she left...plain and simple. Yet again she wasn't like the rest, she didn't try and take half with her. Money wasn't important to her, she just wanted to let go since John wasn't willing to change for her.
Turning his car keys in the door he looked up to see someone he didn't expect to climbing out of the pick-up truck that had been parked beside him. "Amy," He whispered, almost unable to believe that he was seeing her. It was just too ironic for him, one minute he's thinking about her and the next minute she's in front of him.
She rolled her eyes in response, "Hey," She muttered, slamming the door of her truck closed.
He couldn't help but smile when he saw it was the same beat up old white Chevy she'd been driving around for years, it didn't matter to her that it was falling apart... it was her baby. Of course his baby was his 1970 Pontiac gto judge, which was sitting at home in his garage safely tucked away from any and all danger.
Once the quirky memory was out of the way he stopped to trail his eyes over her, she was dressed the way she always had in the past, with a simple pair of torn jeans and a plain black tank top with the word dangerous printed across the front of it. She wasn't entirely the same though, most noticeably her once fiery red hair was now black as coal and there was a new half sleeve tattoo travelling down her once bare arm.
Running a hand back over his short hair he felt the need to break the tension, "Can I ask what your doing here?"
She smirked, "Well certainly don't flatter yourself by thinking I came to see you."
"Ouch shorty," He said smiling, placing a hand to his chest in mock hurt.
Amy laughed a little and folded her arms over her chest, "Don't go all street on me movie star."
He put his keys back in his pocket and walked around the car to get closer to her, "I know where I came from."
She smiled genuinely and started walking towards the building, "Oh trust me I remember."
John walked along behind her, "You didn't answer my question."
A sigh escaped her lips, "I'm here to pick up my boyfriend, Cena...there are you happy?"
He looked at her for a minute and swallowed the lump in his throat, the thought of her with anyone else seemed ridiculous but he couldn't exactly expect her to be suddenly celibate. John just hope it wasn't anyone he knew in the business, or any one involved in his current film, that would just be too awkward to deal with it.
She looked at him, reading his face, "I know what you're thinking John, but you can rest easy, you don't know him...I promise."
It was un-canning how well she knew him, "How can you be so sure?"
The raven haired beauty groaned a little, "You're not going to stop until I tell you who he is are you?" Knowing full well that his prodding was curiosity, he shook his head no, confirming what she already knew, "Fine I know because he has nothing to do with this business of yours, his names Randy Orton and he's a professional wrestler."
John couldn't help but laugh in her face, "A wrestler? That's quite possibly the gayest profession I've ever heard of."
"You would think that," She spat.
The smile just wouldn't leave his face, "Come on Ames...rolling around with other oiled up men in speedo's? How is that not gay?"
He was quickly getting on her last nerve, "It just isn't ok..." She barked, reaching into her pocket to pull out a cigarette which she proceeded to stick in her mouth and light.
"Since when do you smoke?" He asked her, the subject of conversation changing.
She scowled at him, how dare he judge her, "Since it's none of your damn business."
"Harsh,"
Amy looked at him with self satisfaction, "Well excuse me for not being miss Mary fucking sunshine, you of all people should know that I'm not the most bubbly of bitches. That is why we got divorced right? Cause I'm not a care free bag of silicon all the time right?" She questioned, taking a seat on the step outside of the door.
He sat down beside her, rubbing his hands together, "No, we aren't married anymore because you and I just were two very different people...and I loved and hated that about us."
She tried her best to smile, "Que Sera, Sera right?"
"Right."
Taking one last puff she inhaled deeply before throwing down the cigarette butt and putting out the tiny flame with her combat boot. "Well I guess I should head inside and look for Randy."
"What's he doing here anyway?" John asked, standing up when she did.
She shrugged, "Filming some kind of commercial."
"I see."
She opened the large door in front of her, "So I guess I'll see you around..."
He looked down at the pavement, "Uh, yeah, later." John said to her, before looking up to watch the door close with her disappearing inside. Yet for some unsettling reason watching her walk away now hurt just as much as the first time.