Angel Dust

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys, as always! You're the coolest. I'm really, really interested in hearing what you all have to say about this chapter! Enjoy!

Dave watched with a sick sense of sadistic satisfaction as Courtney sat uncomfortably between Randy and Nitro in the back of the limo. She had done a fairly good job of shaking off the initial shock. It took her only a moment to find a bright smile and wrap Randy's broad shoulders in a tight hug. But if there was anyone who knew Courtney, it was Dave. And the signs were all there.

She could pretend all she wanted that she was happy to have her boyfriend back home. But the stiffening of her back every time he touched her was a dead give away. The way she refused to meet his gaze screamed volumes of her true feelings. And the way she kept shooting furtive glances at Nitro said she would rather be back at Deviant, doing body shots and grinding against him.

Watching them fuck was bad enough. But watching them bond was a thousand times worse. No matter how many times he tried to assure himself that she was just lonely, that Randy would come back and make everything better, Dave was starting to lose hope. He was starting to feel the nagging fear that maybe Eddie and Trish were right. Maybe he was going to have to get used to seeing Courtney and Nitro together.

As he tipped a beer bottle to his lips, Dave reclined in his chair and watched with a smug grin as the car slowed to stop in front of Randy and Courtney's brownstone. If there was one thing Orton had learned better than any other lesson Dave had taught him, it was how to make the most of an awkward situation. He knew exactly how to read people, and to turn their discomfort into his own advantage. He might have to get used to Courtney and Nitro eventually, but for now, he would watch Orton make them squirm. And he would love it.

"Make me proud, Orton," he chuckled to himself, taking another drink as Courtney waited for Randy to get out of the car.

"Why don't you go on inside, Baby," Randy smiled, stepping out of the car and extending a hand to Courtney. When she shot Nitro a wary look, Randy shook his head. "Don't worry, Court. I'll make sure our friend Nitro gets home safely."

Courtney mouthed 'I'm sorry' to Nitro and then slid out of the limo, as though she had no other choice. Her eyes said that she wanted nothing more than to tell Orton where to stick it, but she got out of the vehicle without another word. "Be nice," she whispered to Randy as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

With a look of mock innocence, Randy kissed Courtney's cheek. "No worries, baby," he assured her with a hand on her back. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

She shook her head sadly, walking slowly to the front door of their house like a scolded child. For a moment, Dave's heart went out to her. Then he remembered last night. The look on her face. The sound of her voice. The way her back arched off of Nitro's bed as the punk-ass hippie licked whipped cream off Courtney's naked body.

Focusing his attention on Randy, Dave watched the scene on the platform change from a sad-looking Courtney, to the action inside the limousine. Nitro was staring out the window, clearly uninterested in anything this man beside him had to say. Randy was smiling, undeterred by the apathy of the man beside him.

"I wanted to thank you, man," Randy started, his hands resting comfortably on his thighs as he looked straight ahead. Nitro didn't respond. "I mean, I was worried about leaving my girl alone in the city while I was all the way across the ocean. And, as it turns out, I had nothing to worry about," he added, cracking his knuckles subtly. "She's lucky to have such an attentive friend to make sure nothing happened to her while her man was away."

Dave watched with delight as the red color crept into Nitro's neck. His face registered slight shock when the young man turned, his face angry.

"Why don't you get to the fucking point, Orton?" he spat.

"Oh," Dave whistled. "Looks like we've got a live one!"

"Okay." In an instant, Randy's expression morphed from one of jovial amusement to a threatening glower. "Whatever you and Courtney did while I was away? It's over," he stated.

"That's not your decision, is it?" Nitro asked, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Turning his body, Randy lowered his voice further. "Maybe not, but I know my girlfriend. She's traditional, man. She wants a man who takes control of the relationship," he smirked when Nitro shifted in his seat. With a hand over the balled fist Nitro was beginning to raise, Randy pushed it back to the seat between them.

Laughing, Dave watched as Nitro shook his head in confusion. "That's right, motherfucker. You can't win this one. Tuck your tail and run along now," he encouraged as he watched the car slow to a stop in front of Nitro's apartment building.

"This is so fucked up," Nitro laughed incredulously, as though he couldn't believe he was having the conversation in the first place. "Courtney is her own person. She is a brilliant woman. And she wants to be able to think for herself."

Randy shook his head. "Don't pretend like one week of fucking her makes you a Courtney Lane expert," he warned. "What Courtney wants, my friend, is someone who fits in her world. Maybe she told you that she wants something else. Maybe she even thinks she does want you. Maybe she thinks she wants someone that makes her parents cringe, someone who looks painfully out of place at gala events."

Nitro shifted under Randy's condescending gaze. "This is so fucked up," he repeated. "If you loved her. . ." he started.

But Randy shook his head and nodded to the door. "Don't you dare question my love for my girlfriend. She is the single most important thing in the world to me. And don't think I'm not willing to fight, tooth-and-nail, to keep her."

Even Dave flinched a little bit at the look on Randy's face. Stone-cold hatred radiated toward the young man in the car. But he had to admit, he was slightly impressed at the fact that Nitro's expression reflected absolutely no fear.

Nitro smiled for the first time as he looked Randy over. They were about the same height, and their builds were similar. On top of that, Nitro was willing to bet that he had far more street experience with fighting than this white-collar television producer had ever seen. He wondered for a moment if Randy had ever seen a fight anywhere other than in movies or television. "What makes you think that prospect of fighting you scares me in the least, man?"

Unaffected, Randy answered with a cordial tone, as though he was wishing Nitro a good evening. "Trust me, Kid," he smirked slightly. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

When the limo door slammed, Randy sank back in the seat smugly. Drumming a happy beat on his knee with one hand, he quickly dialed his phone. "Hey, baby," he said when Courtney answered. "No, he's fine. We had a nice chat. . . I didn't threaten him. . . No. . . Baby, it's our first night together in three weeks. Can we not fight tonight?"

Draining what was left of his beer, Dave stood and stretched. Moving close to the platform, he shifted his attention to Courtney as she lounged in the bathtub, her tan legs poking out of the bubbles, an irritated look on her face. Rolling his eyes, he started to pat her exposed knee, intent on telling her to lighten up and get over it.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. Joey's words from his first day on the other side flooded his mind. When they forget the sound of your voice, you won't be able to talk to them.