Author's note: Thanks to Ella and Spunky-hyper-girl for reviewing! Your comments give me the drive I need to write more. I'm glad you like my little story and hope you like this chapter. Sorry it took a while to get out; I must have rewritten it ten times and am still not 100 per cent happy with it, but sod it. I refuse to tinker with it any more. Like it? Hate it? Want to make any suggestions? Leave me a review and let me know! x

Usual disclaimers apply.

I was woken the next morning at the ungodly hour of ten a.m. by a ferocious banging on my hotel room door. I peered muzzily at my watch, murmured 'sod off' and buried my head under my pillow. My head felt as though it was full of feathers, and there was a slight pain building just behind my left eye. One thing to remember about wrestlers - they certainly liked their drink, and lots of it.

I tried to remember what had happened the previous evening. Hunter, Shawn, John, Randy, Jeff, Brian, Paul, Mickie and Candice had all gathered in John and Randy's room. There was stripping (John), poker (combined with the stripping), and John and Randy proceeding to trash the hotel room by bickering and settling their differences by grappling with each other. Kit had said something about sexual tension, but I couldn't remember if she'd succeeded in getting them to kiss or not. Things were getting a little fuzzy by that point as I had downed the best part of a litre bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Shut that bloody noise up!" Kit grumbled from the next bed. I groaned, slithered out of bed, and staggered over to the door, trying to remember what we had scheduled for the day. I was almost positive that we didn't have anywhere to be, at least this early, and I wished death upon the unspeakable person who had disturbed my slumber.

"Hey!" I winced as Shane's cheerful tone stabbed straight through my head. "You got Smackdown! That's awesome!"

"Not so loud! How dare you be cheerful this early?" I grumbled. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm here to take you to Smackdown," Shane said cheerfully. I could only blink stupidly at him.
"Wha…" I was too tired and too hungover to even begin to comprehend what he said. "But… I thought that was next week?"

"Yeah, you're going to be on next week's -show-, but you're supposed to be travelling with us until then," he pointed out. "Anyway, Fit wants to take you through your paces. Come on, I got up super early to drive over here and collect your ass, you've got ten minutes to get dressed. I'll help you get packed up," Shane added, pushing past me into the room. He strode over to the window and yanked the curtains back, flooding the room with brilliant sunlight. I hissed and covered my eyes. Kit stirred and threw a pillow at him. "Good morning, Kitten!" he sang.

"Bugger off, Shane!" was her murmured response.

"Right. You two aren't morning people. Must remember that," said Shane happily as he grabbed my bag and started packing everything that was around my bed. I hurriedly grabbed a change of underwear and some clothes before they could get packed and headed into the bathroom to get dressed and freshen up a bit.

"I've finished packing. Are you done?" demanded Shane, banging on the door five minutes later, making me jump as I was seriously on the verge of falling asleep at the bathroom sink.

"I'm awake!" I said hurriedly, trying not to sound guilty, and sighed as I finished doing my make-up. It really was too early in the morning for this sort of nonsense. I stuffed my make-up back into my wash bag and threw it at Shane as I walked out of the bathroom. He grinned and handed me the jewellery that had been on the bedside. I put it on, grabbed my handbag, made sure I had everything, and turned to Kit.

"I'll call you later, sweetie," I said.

"Mmmmf!" was my only reply. I snorted and followed Shane out of the door. We headed to the parking lot where he stowed my bag and case in the boot of his car, then he took my arm and led me out onto the street. I hissed at the bright sunlight and shielded my eyes.

"So tell me why you decided to come and get me so early?" I asked, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. "Smackdown's only across town and doesn't the taping start at 7.30?"

"Don't you ever listen to me? Finlay wants to go through some things with you," Shane explained with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, I thought we could have breakfast together and catch up on some gossip. I haven't seen you since Unforgiven," he added with a pout.

"Well, you have my number; you could have sent me a text!" I pointed out. "Besides, I've been busy with the training and stuff."

"And parading around in tiny, tiny clothes that don't really fit you?" Shane asked with a cheeky grin. I groaned and hanged my head in shame.

"I hate the Diva Search. Every time I'll even begin to have a hope of being taken seriously, pictures of me in that bikini will be flaunted, won't they?" I said with a groan. "And that's if I win!"

"Don't hate on the Diva Search. It got you into the company, didn't it?" asked Shane.

"Possibly."

"No possibly about it. Even if you don't win, Matt, Jeff and I think that both you and Kit will be signed up. You two have got a big backstage following, and it doesn't hurt that the two most powerful men in the company bar Vince are on your side. And Shawn and Hunter," he added with a cheeky grin. "They're on your sister's side, so therefore your side by default."

"Yeah, sorry Shane but I don't think you're quite one of the most powerful men in the company," I said with a snort.

"What are you talking about?" asked Shane, with a pout. "Of course I am. I -am- the longest-reigning Cruiserweight champ of all time, you know!"

"You've also been injured for, like, ever," I pointed out. He scowled and shoved me in the side.

"We don't talk about that. Anyway, I'm back now!" he said sulkily.

"Yeah, and you're not Cruiserweight champ any more," I teased, shoving him back. "And unlikely to be, considering nothing's been done with the belt since it was taken off Hornswoggle."

"Yeah, but I've only just come back. There was obviously nobody worthy of holding the belt in my absence," he said cockily, popping his collar before ushering me through the door of the nearest cafe. "I'm sure Vickie will see sense and give it back to me. I want a full ceremony and everything. Red carpet to the ring, fireworks, the belt carried to me on a silver platter by a bunch of nubile young ladies... it'll be awesome."

"Yeah, I don't think you're that important, love," I giggled.

"Of course I am! I be awesome. Bow before my awesomeness!"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

"You're no fun!"

We bickered all the way through breakfast and on the car trip to the hotel where the Smackdown stars were staying. The great thing about Shane was that he was inventive with his insults and gave as good as he got. Somehow, don't ask me how, it degenerated into a game of "Who would you rather sleep with out of...", a game that he, Matt and I had spent almost an hour playing at Unforgiven.

"Michael Moore or George W Bush?"

"No contest! Michael Moore. Roseanne Barr or Jo Brand?"

"Jo Brand on the basis that I've never heard of her and so she's probably British and therefore awesome. Donald Trump or Vince McMahon?"

"Ew!" I screwed up my face and tried not to laugh hysterically. "Donald Trump's better looking but Vince has the power to fire me, so him. Vickie Guerrero or Mae Young?"

"Old or young Mae?"

"Old."

"Hmm… still Mae Young. Vickie... eeeurgh." He shuddered and I laughed. "Okay, we're here. I don't know if the powers that be have booked you a room here already, but if not I'm sure Matt won't mind you rooming with us tonight." He let us into the hotel room and swore as he almost fell over a holdall bag that had been casually dumped by the door. The various contents of the bag were strewn across the floor and Shane muttered under his breath as he gathered them up and shoved them haphazardly into the bag. I laughed, threw my own bag on the nearest bed and collapsed beside it.

"Matt needs a maid to follow him around, I swear," muttered Shane as he balled up the last pair of socks and lobbed it into the bag.

"Mmm," I murmured vaguely in assent; I had felt sleepy again the moment I'd lain down. "What time do I have to meet Finlay?" I asked around a yawn.

"About two, he said, he's got some training with Torrie and Michelle first. So you've got a couple of hours yet. But you can't sleep, you've got to keep me company while Matt spends several million years in the shower," Shane added hurriedly as I grabbed a pillow and snuggled into it.

"But I'm sleepy. Blame John and Randy, they were force-feeding me JD last night."

"I doubt you needed much forcing, precious." I rolled onto my side and looked up as Matt Hardy emerged, fresh from the shower, dripping wet and totally naked. Automatically my gaze was winched downwards. Well, that was certainly impressive! I hurriedly snapped my gaze back to Matt's face and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you always walk out of the bathroom completely naked, regardless of who might be in the room?" I asked, struggling to keep my face neutral; the urge to giggle and/or stare at his crotch was almost overwhelming.

"Yeah, he always does, I don't know why. Who'd want to see that ugly fucker naked?" Shane said. Matt rolled his eyes and flicked him with the towel. Shane shrieked and sat bolt upright, an offended look on his face. "How dare you?"

"You know, that's way too much gay for this time in the morning," I laughed as Matt flicked Shane with the towel again for good measure and then proceeded to dry his hair, making no attempt to cover up. "Jesus, Matt, put some pants on, will you?"

"Why, don't you like what you see?" he asked with a smirk and I blushed and threw a pillow at him. He laughed as he batted it away.

"It's a question of public decency! Besides, you all naked with a young lady in the room... people might talk." I yawned, turned to face the wall and shut my eyes. "Wake me when you've decided to behave, okay?"

--

"Elli, you're meeting Fit in ten. Time to wake up!"

"Wstfgl." I grumbled sleepily, not pleased at having been jolted out of a rather strange dream involving a naked Matt and Shane whipping each other with towels. I tried to bury my head under the pillows but was roughly picked up and hauled over Matt's shoulder.

"What… hey!" I protested weakly, attempting a half-hearted struggle.

"Do that again and I'll drop you," Matt threatened. I sighed, too tired to really fight, and looked down at his back.

"I see you finally decided to get dressed," I remarked. "Good. It can't be healthy to go around naked all the time." Especially not for my subconscious, I added silently, glad that I was facing his behind as a blush crept over my face. I'd had a massive crush on him back in the Team Xtreme days and seeing him naked reminded me forcefully of that.

"Why've you gone red?" Shane demanded, bounding up like an excited puppy. "Do you like Matt? Hey, Matt, you could be holding your future wife there!"

"Shut up, Shane!" I grumbled, looking around for something heavy to throw at his head. Unfortunately there was nothing within grabbing range so I had to settle for glaring at him.

"Oooh, did I touch a nerve?" asked Shane delightedly, crouching down so his face was inches from mine. I made a spirited attempt to bite his face off but Matt shifted me slightly on his shoulder so that I couldn't reach; I yelped and thumped him on the arm but it had no effect.

"Well, you were both naked in my dream, so what does that say, Shane?" I asked with an evil grin. "Does that mean I subconsciously want you two to spit-roast me?" Matt tensed up and Shane gasped, a comical look of shock and horror on his face.

"You harlot!"

"Harlot or not, she's going to be late for Fit," said Matt quickly, before I could reply. I twisted as much as I could so that I was at least looking at his head, and from what I could see his neck looked a little flushed. I felt extremely pleased with myself and allowed myself a secret smirk. "Ready to go?" he asked, a little stiffly.

"Do I have any choice in the matter?" I asked with a groan.

"Nope."

"You going to let me down?"

"Nope."

"Fine," I sighed, sending Shane a pleading look. He just grinned and waved as Matt carried me out of the room, down the corridor, into the lift and down through the lobby towards the hotel's gym. We got some strange looks and a few people snapped pictures on their phones; no doubt the internet wrestling community would gossip like crazy the next day.

Torrie Wilson and Michelle McCool were still in the gym, idly chatting about this evening's tapings, and they looked up and giggled as we entered.

"There you go. One Diva Search hopeful," said Matt, dumping me unceremoniously at Finlay's feet. I grinned awkwardly at the Irishman as I got to my feet; he was looking impassive. "I'll see you later, Elli. Try not to die." Matt gave me a wink as he left, and I took unconscious step back.

"He was joking, right?" I asked worriedly. Finlay's face split into a grin that held absolutely no humour whatsoever. It was just a tad unsettling and I fidgeted, stretching out my arms and popping my neck nervously.

"This isn't an easy business and I don't plan on going easy on ya," he warned. "Ready?"

"Always," I replied as confidently as I could, and we started going through our warm-up routines.