Breakfast, Lunch and Dave

Dave Batista was not the traditional ladies' man. He was a ladies' man in the since that the ladies adored him, but he was never the womanizing type. Ever since he was 18 years old, he had always been in some kind of a relationship. He was married when he was 21 and divorced at 27, and then came a string of girlfriends. He married again at 33 and divorced at 34. Then there were 2 more girlfriends. The two auxiliary relationships both lasted well over 9 months, but like the others, they failed. He had taken the last 6 months off from dating seriously. Even though he was sleeping with women with no strings attached, he was still very much the gentlemen. He never promised things and he always politely thanked them for the night before he was out the door. He knew he didn't want to get involved with anyone; he because he was convinced that he had no idea what it took to make a relationship work.

He knew that the wanted to sleep with Britain, mainly because he wanted to feel if her skin was as soft as looked. He wanted to see her beautiful eyes clouded over with lust…he wanted to see her smile when she had an orgasm. Never once in the times that he thought about sleeping with her, did he ever consider that he wanted to get off.

What was even more confusing to him was the fact that in the two days he had known her, he hadn't made a move. That first day he met her, he had invited her out…she was the one the asked for a kiss. The next day, he spent the entire day with her. After breakfast they went for a drive down the coast, hung out at the beach, and had a wonderful dinner. But still, all he did was kiss her goodnight when he walked her to her door. It was driving him crazy. He wanted her, but why he hadn't taken her, was beyond him. It may have had something to do with the fact that he actually liked her.

He was impressed that they had so much in common. She had told him that she use to hang out with some guys from WCW back in the day, mainly Eddie, Rey and Jericho, but she hadn't talked to them in 5 years. She told him about how much of daddy's girl she was and he could relate because he had two daddy's girls of his own. She talked about her family with affection, just like he did his. Even though he loved his mom dearly, they weren't nearly as close as Britain and her family, but he felt that affection with his children. They also had their jobs in common. He traveled to a different town four days a week. She would be in a different country for weeks at a time. He couldn't help but to envy that she got to pick the jobs she wanted and when she got to decide when she wanted to work.

He would have never taken her for a runway model, not when she looked like she did. He told her that she should be on every magazine cover and was surprised when she laughed at him. She really didn't like print media…she hated posing for hours on end and she really hated that she was always half naked no matter what the ad was.

"I hate the fact that they airbrush. I have curves… I like my curves. I'm usually between a 6 and a 8, which is big even for a runway model, but it's me and I'm not slimming down. I'm lucky because I usually work with the same designers and when they request me, they make clothes to fit my big hips and they taper the waist in. But print? I hate it." She played with the straw in her cup, never taking her eyes off of him. "It's like I can't figure out why I have to wear a thong to sell toothpaste. That's why I prefer runway. I get to be clothed in some of the most beautiful works of art on the planet, in some of the most beautiful places in the world. Even if the outfits are skimpy sometimes; like they may not have shirt at all, but it's not like I'm there being ogled, people are looking at the fashion…well most of the time. I get to walk down the runway and walk back…I get paid an insane amount of money and I get to keep my dignity." Even though she was talking about the down side of her job, she still had a smile on her face. "What about you? You like doing all this promo stuff?"

Dave laughed incredulously. "I fucking hate it. What the fuck does oiling me up and having me pose with babies or just the trunks on touching myself have to do with wrestling? It's a sport…granted what we do is choreographed, but still, it's about strength, not what I look like touching myself." He reached for a napkin and wiped his mouth. "And I hate it when the women whisper. I'm in the fucking room. Don't get me wrong, I spent years body building. I take pride in the way my body looks and I like that other people like it. But, if I wanted to be a model or do porn, I would have. You women are vicious…and they say guys have their minds in the gutter." He could listen to her laugh all day long.

"Welcome to my world. I can't tell you how many times a day some guy tells me he wants to get me in bed or even worse, guys like that fucking prick Tyson…when I work with them, they think it's me giving them permission to put their hands all over me." She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't understand what he meant. "I like that guys find me attractive, it makes getting a date a whole lot easier. But sometimes, I would like to be considered more than just beautiful."

Dave didn't miss the hint of sadness in her voice when she said that. He felt guilty because he was thinking the same things that those other guys just came out and said or did. But he couldn't help it; she was an incredibly beautiful woman. .

He dialed her number and continued to sing with the song playing in the car until she answered. The phone was already on the third ring, he knew she was still asleep.

"Hello." Britain answered the phone in a breathy voice. She couldn't open her eyes if she tried. Somebody better be dead to call me this fucking early.

He laughed at her sleepy voice. "I'm hungry. Let's get breakfast."

"Do they even make breakfast this early? What time is it?" She was sure it was 3am. She felt like she had just gotten to sleep. I hate morning people.

"It's 8:00, get up." He had gotten up to jog at 5:00, was at the gym by 6:30, showered and on his way to her hotel by 8:00. This was a routine, for years he had trained himself to get out of the bed and start his day. It was funny to him that she would sleep until noon if she could.

Britain put the pillow over her head to block out the sun. "Dave, nobody eats this early. You can't even chew this early." Even if she wanted to see him, 8:00 in the morning was ridiculous.

Another laugh came from him. "I'm hungry. I'm pulling into the parking lot of your hotel right now and I'm gonna knock on your door until you open it. So you might as well get up and get dressed so we can eat."

"What?" She whined. "You're here? Shit." All she wanted to do was sleep. "You're standing out in the hallway until 11." She closed her phone and felt herself drift back off. He couldn't have been serious. People didn't wake up at 8:00 in the morning when they were on vacation; it was against the law.

Dave knocked on her door exactly 3 minutes after she hung up on him. He couldn't stop smiling at how annoyed she was. I bet she's really cute when she's pissed off. But when she opened the door, he felt his mouth go dry. She was wearing a tank top and panties, her hair was in a fuzzy ponytail and her eyes were half closed. She had this pout on her lips and her brows were brought together in frustration. "Good morning." He handed her a rose and flashed his smile at her. Then he laughed out loud when she rolled her eyes and stomped like a child back to her bed.

"Goodnight." She flopped herself down across the bed. She didn't care if he was there; at least he wasn't knocking on the door anymore.

Dave shook his head. She was a mess, but she was real and he liked that. He also liked the fact that he could watch her while she was asleep. Even as she slept she was graceful, her breathing evened out and she made a soft purr like a kitten. She slept with one hand under her cheek and her legs drawn up to her chest. She looked angelic. With nothing else to do, he placed the rose in the vase with the other roses he had gotten her the day before, pulled out a Powerbar and sat couch to watch Sportcenter.

Britain felt something on her nose that was annoying her to no end. It started at the bridge and ran down to the tip and then back up. She swatted at it, she wiped her nose several times and finally after about the 5th time it happened she opened her eyes.

"It's 8:30. I'm starving. Please get up." His voice was soft as not to scare her when she awoke, but also because being that close to her was unnerving. He was lying in her bed, next to her.

Britain rolled over to her back and whined. "If I get up will you let me sleep?"

"No."

She huffed. "Fine. But I'm not talking to you until 11." With the pout still on her face, she got out of the bed and stomped into the bathroom.

Dave sat patiently on the bed waiting for her. He could resist smelling her pillow. It smelled like coconuts, like her hair and it was still warm from her face. He let his eyes drift to the bathroom door when she opened it. At first there was just a cloud of steam coming out from the shower, but then she appeared. She was wet, with a towel wrapped around her. Her wet hair was extremely wavy and clung to her shoulders. He watched as the droplets of water on the ends dripped down the towel and down her legs. Oh my God. He was sure he had died and gone to porno heaven. Looking at her like that, even though she was still pouting, was more erotic than anything any director could have come up with. He never took his eyes off of her as she made her way over to her suitcase and got her clothes. In all of 2 minutes, she rolled her eyes at him and stomped back in the bathroom and shut the door.

Britain dressed quietly, trying to convince her brain to wake up. She was too tired to try to be sexy for him. She put on yellow Capri pants and a white and yellow t-shirt that read: Bad Kitty and she completed the outfit with white flip-flops. Instead of a ponytail holder, she used a yellow bandana to tie around her hair. That's all he gets at 8:30 in the fucking morning.

"You look amazing." He smiled sincerely. She looked so cute to him. She matched his casual Yankees jersey and Khaki shorts, exceptionally well. It was refreshing not to have to put on airs to be with her. He had dated enough women to know that sometimes they expected him to look a certain way, Britain didn't seem to care. "Can we find food now?"

As she put on her watch she pointed to it, then pointed to him and placed her finger to her lips. "You can't talk to me for another two hours." The constant whine in her voice made him laugh at her. "Shut up."

Dave walked over to her and took her by the hand, grabbed his baseball cap and led her out the door. He was on a mission for food and not even her pouting was going to stop that.

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They had an amazing day…once she finally woke up. Britain found the one thing about him that was most attractive was the fact that he was interesting. He wasn't braggy or constantly talking about how many women he pulled a night. He laughed a lot too, something that she found endearing. The guys she usually dated were conceited and too damn serious. She was a fun person, who liked to be silly. Looking at her, one wouldn't know that. She looked unapproachable, but she was the most down to earth person that he had ever met.

"I'm not shopping with you, so just forget it." He said grabbing her hand to usher across the street. She seemed completely oblivious to the traffic because a hat in a store window caught her eye. "So what are we doing tonight?"

Britain's face broke down. "I can't go out with you tonight. I'm supposed to go out with my friend." She had planned this weeks ago. She was getting together with her best friend; she hadn't planned on meeting a guy. There was a rule with them, no men before them. It was that simple.

Dave nodded. It was selfish of him to think he could monopolize all of her time just because he was on vacation. But there was still a part of him that wanted her all to himself. "Ok."

"You could come?" She was trying to think of how that would go over with her best friend, Christina.

Dave shook his head. "I don't want to impose. It's a girl's night out." He had been dragged out to a girl's night out before, and he did NOT want to do that again.

"It wouldn't be imposing. It's a club…there are a lot of guys there." She turned around to him and smiled. "Please? Say you'll come."

He would do anything to see that smile. "I don't dance."

"So. I'll dance for you." She giggled and jumped up and down clapping her hands when he agreed. Now she had to figure out to explain that to her best friend.

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Xaviera Christina Perez was like no other woman Britain had ever met. They had been best friends since she was 14. When Britain's family relocated to San Diego, she found herself for the first time in a heavily Latino populated area. Her first day of high school, she found that she was the cause of constant taunts from the kids at school. They called her a guerra, a white girl, all because her father took her to school on the first day. Britain could still remember crying in the girl's bathroom, when this little blonde came in and talked to her. Christina was already a junior and judging from how the teasing stopped when people found out that Britain was her friend, she ran that school. From that day on, the two had been inseparable.

"So, you invited a fucking guy to girl's night? I can't believe you." X said as she tossed her shot back without flinching. She pounded on the bar for another. "He better have a big dick and some friends."

Britain laughed and pushed her best friend. "I haven't slept with him yet."

"Why not? Jesus, don't tell me you're catching feelings. Didn't we discuss this already? No getting a-dick-ed. Hit and split, there's no reason to get to know them." She took her second shot and held the glass to her mouth. "I thought you were done with those muscle bound wrestling types."

Britain shrugged. Her last relationship with a guy in Dave's industry was messy. She didn't want to date those kinds of guys anymore. The kinds that got off on adrenaline and steroids…they weren't nice guys. "But he's so sweet. I don't know, I've known him for two days and all he's done is kissed me goodnight."

"Is he gay? Cause I've been trying to fuck you since we were teenagers." X laughed when Britain blew a kiss at her.

Why wasn't Dave interested in her? She could tell he was when they kissed because the bulge in his pants indicated so, but besides being that close to her, he didn't seem the least bit pressed. "I keep waiting, but this is getting ridiculous. I'm 25 years old, I have needs."

"So why don't you make a move? I'm gonna make you pimp if it kills me." X grabbed Britain's hand and led her to the dance floor. She missed having her best friend around. When they were together, they didn't need guys, they entertained themselves.

As soon as Dave stepped in the club, all the women turned toward him. He looked like a walking orgasm. Decked out in black slacks, a tight white Lyrca shirt and those Dolce glasses; Dave looked like sex. He felt eyes on him and even smiled at a few women as he made his way in the obnoxiously loud club, but he was searching for one woman in particular. He scanned the dance floor and smiled. There she was wearing low rise jeans and an open back shirt. She was dancing on the top of a table, with a short blonde. She looked like poetry in motion.

Britain danced with X paying with no attention to anything but the music and suddenly X's words made her look up. "God, look at him."

Britain turned to where X was pointing and she felt her breath catch. Damn he looks good. "Oh my God, he came."

"That's him? He's huge." X turned around to look at Britain. "And you haven't fucked him yet? Are you gay?"

Dave smiled when Britain noticed him and slowly he made his way over to where she was. He stood in front of the table and looked up at her. "Was the dance floor too crowded?"

"You coming up here to dance with me?" She laughed when he declined. Britain reached out for him to help her off of the table. She loved the fact that he used little to no effort when he picked her up. "I can't believe you actually came."

"I told you I would." He held her close to him for a moment before setting her down. His hands just like the way her naked back felt.

"This is my best friend X." Britain pointed to the blonde still standing on the table. "X this is Dave."

"Nice to meet you." Christina said as she stepped down onto a chair. She was so small compared to Britain. Christina was barely 5'2 while Britain was 5'8 and Dave towered over them both. "Él va a rasgarte para arriba. Deseo los detalles." He's gonna tear you up. I want details.

Dave watched as Britain smacked X on the butt and then the smaller woman walked away. "What was that about?"

"Nothing, she retarded." Britain led him by the hand over to the bar. "What ya drinking?"

"Malibu and diet coke."

Britain couldn't help but to laugh as she ordered his drink and Tequila for herself. "So I know you said you don't dance, but you're going to."

Dave laughed as he sipped his drink. "I don't dance. I'm too big to dance."

"Bullshit."

"Besides, you said that you were going to dance for me. I came here to collect on that." There was a playful smirk on his face and his eyes hinted trouble. He leaned up against the bar and watched as Britain dragged X over to him. She moved with ease, letting the smaller woman grind into her. He could almost imagine what she would be like in bed, the way her hips rolled around and how she arched her back as she moved to the music. He had to sit his drink down to keep from crushing the glass in his hand. When he watched how she pulled X by the hair and how she looked whispering into her ear, never taking her eyes off of him. He almost lost it. Suddenly that club was getting really hot and he could feel the sweat starting on his brow. What the fuck am I waiting for?

Britain kissed X on the cheek and watched her walk away. "So you ready to go?"

Dave swallowed trying to wet his dry throat. "I just got here."

"Yeah well X found some guy to hook up with and since you won't dance with me, there's really no reason to stay." X was right, she needed to make the first move if anything between them was going to happen. And the way he was dressed, something was going to happen tonight, even if she had to take him by force.

Dave and Britain walked to his rental holding hands, but not saying anything. But they were both thinking the same thing, but not sure how to tell the other what they wanted. When they reached the truck, Dave reached around her to open the door. "Where do you wanna go now?" He asked close to ear, feeling her hair brush against his cheek.

Britain turned slowly and looked him the eye. "Back to your hotel room."

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A/N: I'm in a really crappy mood today and I hate this chapter, but something had to move the story to what's to come. Originally it was 16 pages long, so I decided to just make 2 chapters. And I was asked by nychick4 who the model was in the banner for this story. It's Helena Christensen. She's the closest to my vision of Britain. Helena is a Dutch model who is 1/2 Dutch, 1/2 Peruvian...her heritage is close to that of this character and I think she's hot (she's the same model in the Maintaining Perfection banner as well). Anyway, I'm glad that some of you have checked out the banner. I played around with a few of them, but I liked the simple one with just the two characters the best. If you get a chance check it out...and leave a comment. I need to know if I should quit my day job as a artist or not. :-)

I promise the next chapter will be better, it's actually got some action in it. I'll probably end up reposting this because I'll find some typos. I'm looking for someone to edit for me, if you're interested email me...I'm serious.

Go Patriots!

Shanny