A/N: I'm sorry about the lack of posts. I actually had this chapter written about two months ago, but I totally forgot that it was there until I went through my files. I'm sure this is TMI, but I'm going through a lot of personal issues right now and writing really hasn't been on the forefront of my mind. I'll try to do better, but until then you might get updates in dribs and drabs.

Also, I want to say that the story is going somewhere. I don't want the image of Parker to be tarnished because she's such a strong person. But even the strong ones have demons. This story is about her completely overcoming hers.

Be easy!

Throwing the offending piece of lingerie in the trash, Parker rolled her eyes. What in the hell had Randy been thinking when he bought that shit for her? "He wasn't thinking, that's the fucking problem." She stormed out of the bathroom and angrily sat on the bed. Folding her arms across her chest, she looked around the room. The champagne was still in the bucket. The chocolate covered strawberries were still in the bowl, untouched. It really was a beautiful gesture. "Fuck."

Reaching over, Parker extracted a strawberry and bit into it. It was delicious. She would much rather be eating it off of Randy's chest, or watching him eat them, no doubt after doing some inappropriate with it first, but here she was eating them alone. Taking another bite, she placed the half eaten strawberry back in the bowl and stood up. She walked over to the mirror and took a look at herself.

She pulled the black t-shirt off of her body. Did she get new stretch marks on her upper arms since yesterday? Lifting her left arm over her head, she followed the new bright red mark of torn skin around to the underside. And did her breast always sag that much? She bent at the waist and couldn't help but to shake her head at the sight. "I look like I have four arms." She lifted her breasts and turned her lip up at the dark marks underneath of them. Years of her large boobs cutting off the oxygen supply to the skin underneath, allowing sweat and fungus to grow in its wake had done that. That and the chafing. Her bra liked to rub the area, usually leaving it itchy, not to mention that sweaty boob smell. And Randy liked that why?

She held her hands against her breast to push them in a more aesthetic position. They looked good pressed up like that. If she got a breast lift, they'd be hot. She could just imagine what they would look like being round and perky. The idea of taking off her bra and seeing Randy's face if the girls stood at attention made her smile. He'd be all over her. But then she realized that even if they stood up, the skin underneath would still be jacked up. That was pretty anticlimactic.

Dropping her breast, she let her hand travel down to the expanse of her stomach, and held it up so that she could actually see Muffy. She was able to maneuver the skin, to see what she'd look like if she were thinner. Turning to the side, she sucked in the fat and pulled and pushed it, so it was more evenly distributed. But even with her stomach in better position, the fat that hung in two unsightly clumps still decorated the tops of her hips, and curved over to the backside. The love handles made her ass look bigger, as if she needed anything to make her ass bigger. Too bad she didn't have more arms. If she did then she could smoothed her back fat and her stomach down at the same time.

Of course, her thighs were still a problem. They were just big, no matter what angle she looked at them. Between the cellulite dimples on the back of them, to the cottage cheese looking fat that hung on her inner thighs when her legs were closed, there was nothing to help them. And because her thighs rubbed when she walked, let alone when she stood, but there was nothing that could bring the reddish brown discoloration between her thighs back to their natural tint. The rings under her breasts had nothing on them.

It was no wonder Randy didn't know what size clothes to buy her. She couldn't even figure out what the biggest part of her was, and she looked at herself everyday. How in the hell was he supposed to know? She knew without a shadow of a doubt that had he bought her lingerie that was too big, she'd be pissed about that, too. Her imperfections weren't his fault. Her imperfections didn't normally bother her. She knew they were there, but she'd made peace with it. But what stung was all the things about her that she hated and had tucked away, suddenly came into the light with that gift. Randy never acted like her weight affected him, but now he knew. He knew just how fat she was and it would only be a matter of time before he realized that he didn't like it. Sure, for the time being, he was turned on by her, no matter how much discoloration she had, or that her boobs hung and her thighs rubbed together, but how long would that last?

None of this was Randy's fault, so why was she so pissed? He'd never once alluded to being more attracted to someone else. She knew he was a flirt. Hell, wasn't he the one feeling on Avery's ass and talking about how much he liked her chest, when she first met him? Did she really think that he would change? Did she really want him, too? This wasn't Randy's problem. This was hers. This was her having a bad day and wanting these skinny bitches to leave her man alone. This was her being too fat to fit into his gift. This was the all those things that she'd always heard all of her life from Mrs. Lyles, classmates, school bullies, acquaintances, Charlie Haas, John Cena, Howard Stern and snickers down the hall of the hospital, that came rushing toward her at the same time. This wasn't Randy, yet she'd taken it out on him.

She had seen enough. She picked up her shirt from off the floor and pulled it back over her head. Making her way to the bed, she pulled back the covers and laid down. She really wished Randy was there. She had never seen him that pissed off before. She knew that he didn't mean to hurt her, and she really hadn't given him a chance to explain. But that still didn't answer why he rolled out? He had been so good about making her feel that she wasn't crazy for being proud of her size. When John Cena had crushed her, Randy reassured her that she was beautiful.

So where was he when she was feeling like a fat fuck right now?

An intense warm tingle forced goose bumps to dance across Parker's skin. She turned her head from one side to the other, trying her best to resist the urge to wake up. That bed so comfortable and she didn't have to contend with Randy's big ass body taking up damn near every corner of it. She was having a good dream, too. Not that she could remember what it was about. But still, that tingle refused to be ignored.

She licked her lips softly, and squinted into the dawn filled room. Her heart was racing, and at that moment the hairs on her arms were standing on end. She knew this feeling well. Only she couldn't for the life of her figure out how she got there. "Randy?" She asked after a pant that suddenly escaped her lips. "What are you doing?"

"Apologizing." He looked up from his position between her legs, and gave her wink, before going right back to his task.

He had stayed at the bar with John and Mickie until he calmed down. He was a little drunk, but not enough that he was willing to go to sleep without attempting to tell Parker he was sorry. Only, he really didn't know what he should apologize for. Was he sorry because she was bigger than he saw her? Or was he just sorry for ruining their night? He was sorry for a lot of things, but none more than the fact that she was hurt and he just bailed on her.

A lot of what Mickie said made sense. They both knew Parker was overweight, but Randy didn't care. It wasn't that he didn't notice, it just wasn't important to him. Since that first night that they were together, it wasn't something that they ever talked about. Not that he was avoiding it, but because it never came up in conversation again. What would he look like asking her about her weight? When she talked about her aches and pains and poor eating habits, he only tried to help because he didn't want her to be in any physical pain. It had nothing to do with him secretly trying to get her to diet.

But what Mickie got him to understand was just because it was a non-issue for him, didn't mean that it wasn't important to her. His gift was meant to be something that showed her how sexy he found her, not to make her feel bad. And though it wasn't what he was going after, he had still managed to do it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her the way that people in her past had.

Shifting ever so slightly, Parker felt her hands fall to the mattress as she clinched the sheets. "That's not how you apologize."

"I'm trying here, Park." He rested his chin on her thigh and caught her eyes which were lowered to his face. "You gonna make me grovel?" He smirked before extending his tongue and moving it in a long motion over her. "Beg?" He flicked his tongue quickly over her, causing her to flinch. "Plead?" He gently sucked her into his mouth and increased the pressure until he released her with a popping sound.

Parker was sure that she had been mad at Randy at some point in time, only she was having a hard time remembering why. Between his mouth on her and those blue eyes staring at her with such intensity, she knew resistance was futile. "Go back to groveling. Groveling is good."

And so he did. Randy Orton groveled until she couldn't take it anymore. And while she convulsed, he moved his way up to her face and rested his weight on his elbows. He couldn't stop smiling when she opened her eyes and looked at him. Raising his brows, he lowered his lips to hers. But kissing her wasn't the same. It wasn't that she wasn't responsive, but it felt different. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, and crinkled her chin at him. But there was something wrong, only she didn't know what it was.

Running his thumb over her temple he poked his lip out at her. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings." He would do anything to take the look of uncertainty away from her. He had seen that look before. It was the look that he swore she would never have again, as long as he was around. He'd dropped the ball, and this time he didn't know to make it right.

"I know you weren't trying to funny." At least she hoped to God that he wasn't. She'd been the butt of many a joke in her life, but that was over now. Randy wasn't like that. "I guess that bitch at the restaurant, and then that...I just kinda got caught up."

Randy repositioned himself so that he laid at her side and wiped the last bit of her essences from off his chin with a large hand. He had made her feel like shit, but here she was apologizing. He just wished he knew what to do now. "You wanna talk about it?"

Rolling over and kissing him softly, Parker rested her cheek against his shoulder. She did want to talk about it, just not right now. Not until she figured out what exactly bothered her, or how she could explain it to him. "Not right now."

"You want me to apologize some more?" A devious smirk crossed Randy's lips and when Parker raised her brow he rolled to face her. "I could beg, or plead this time…"

Placing her leg over his, Parker touched her hand to his face. Even if she couldn't talk to him about what was going on right now, she still wanted to be close to him. "How about you appeal to my more sensible side. You could beseech me into a better mood."

"And how do I do that?' Pulling her leg over his and shifting her body on top of his, he pushed back her hair to her to look at her face. He wasn't exactly sure what she had in mind, but he was willing to try. Anything to see that smile again.

Leaning down and kissing him, Parker sighed as soon as she felt him inside of her. "Let me show you."

If she did this right, he wouldn't even notice that she was still wearing the t-shirt.