Disclaimer :As much as I wish otherwise, I do not own Randy Orton or any other entity associated with WWE. I can only claim property rights of OC.

The weather in Los Angeles was indescribably perfect. The sun shone in a clear, blue, cloudless sky. Just the kind of day to make Claire feel like she could run a marathon. Too bad her schedule wasn't going to let her get in anything more intense than a few miles on the treadmill. As she stretched her muscles to the limit, she thought back over the last few days. Randy had done everything possible to bush her buttons. The stunt at the mall was just icing on the cake. If she thought he was an insufferable ass before, she knew it without question now. What did Randy get out of it? What was the draw of being so despised? The bigger mystery was WHY? Surely he hadn't been born that way. So what happened? What was the turning point? How bad was that one single event that made Randy so hardened? As much as Claire hated to admit it, she was intrigued. She'd always loved a mystery – and usually she could figure them out. For some reason Randy was proving to be the exception to the rule.

Her pace slowed as she considered her situation. Zero progress had been made in her writing. The outline was a rough draft. She'd reworked it at least five times. Each attempt just frustrated her even more. What she needed was a Fairy Godmother to wave her magic wand . Too bad that was never going to happen. Claire's gaze moved to the wall of windows. Maybe what she needed was a break; some time away from Cody, Randy and Ted was just what she needed. Claire stepped from the treadmill and grabbed her cell. She sent a quick text to Jasmine, asking if she wanted to meet for lunch. Claire was looking forward to eating a meal she didn't have to buy out a vending machine. Maybe if she were lucky, Jaz would have some idea how to jump-start her writing.

Jaz met her at La Boheme Cafe. Claire had never been so relieved to see a friendly face.

After a quick hug, Jaz pulled a chair up to the table, "Girl, you look rough."

"Thanks." Claire laughed. "How's it going?"

"You just wouldn't believe it. Mark is AMAZING. He's such a doll. This biography is practically writing itself. How are you making out?"

Claire sighed heavily, choosing her words carefully. "It's tough. I mean TOUGH, close to impossible. No matter what I do, it's wrong. Randy hates me; he won't even acknowledge me."

Jaz looked over at Claire, unable to stop the wave of pity that washed over her. Claire was an awesome girl and one helluva writer. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Randy is a private sort of man. Have you tried to get him to give you feedback?"

"I wish! I can't even get him to treat me like I'm human. He just barks orders, he expects everyone to obey them. I swear he lives to torment me."

Jaz laughed softly and reached over to pat Claire's hand. "You know what you need?"

"A miracle?" Claire couldn't help herself.

"No, Claire, you have to find some kind of common ground. Find something you agree on. From there, you can build."

Claire's gaze moved from the concerned look on Jaz's face to the busy sidewalk. Common ground? What the hell could she possibly have in common with Randy? They disagreed about everything – most especially they disagreed about Randy thinking he was an almighty dictator.

"You can do this. Have faith in yourself."

The only thing Claire had faith in was Randy's ability to drive her totally insane.

"Any chance you want to trade?" Claire couldn't resist asking.

Jaz shook her head and smiled. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

"You really should come out with us tonight. The Bellas want to go downtown and check out the clubs."

Claire was tempted to pass on the offer. She would have if she wasn't dreading going back to her room to stare at a blank screen. "Sounds like fun."

Jaz's smile lit her hazel eyes, "It's gonna be a blast."

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time the girls had made it to the third club of the evening, Claire was drunk. She couldn't remember the last time she had such a good time. The Bellas were a riot. The minute they walked into the clubs, men flocked around them like moths to a flame. The Bellas were definitely the object of a million different fantasies. The girls were gracious and funny, fending off advances of more amorous men. Claire was content to sit back and watch while she polished off yet another Mojito. Last call put one hell of a damper on Claire's mood. She didn't want to go back to the hotel. She wanted to say out all night. She just wanted to forget. Claire linked her arm through Jaz's as they waited for a cab.

Claire was slightly motion-sick by the time the cab dropped her off at the front door of her hotel. She stood outside the doors for a moment, looking up at the towering building. She didn't want to go inside. Going inside meant she was going back to the way things were. Claire moved slowly into the building and stepped into the lobby. The grout lines on the floor made her dizzy. Blinking slowly as the wave of nausea passed, Claire moved to the leather chairs in the lobby. She sat down slowly and took off her shoes. She sighed in pleasure as her toes curled into the thick carpet. All the energy just drained out of her. If it was possible, she would have slept right there.

Claire looked around the room, her eyes falling on the door to the weight room. Funny that the weight room would be right here, so close to the lobby. She hadn't noticed that earlier in the day, when she had been sober. Odd that she would realize it now. Claire leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes for just a moment. She was so tired. She just didn't have it in her to make it up to her room.

Randy stopped dead in his tracks. The only sound in the room was the soft snick of the weight room door as it closed. He couldn't believe his eyes. Claire was sprawled in one of the lobby chairs. What was she doing up at this time of the night? Actually, it's morning Randy silently corrected himself.

Randy quietly moved across the lobby, "Where the hell have you been?"

Claire's head bobbed forward and her eyes slowly opened. He looked down into her unfocused blue depths. Instantly, he knew she was drunk. Really fucking drunk.

Claire shrugged a bare shoulder, drawing Randy's attention to her attire. She was dressed in the shortest black skirt he had ever seen, the blue halter top made the color of her eyes even more startling. He noticed her shoes were sitting on the floor, her toes scrunched into the carpet.

"Are you alone?" Randy's gaze scanned the lobby. If Cody had left her like this, he had one hell of an ass-whipping in the making.

"Do you see anybody else?" Claire's word were slurred and sluggish. He caught a whiff of alcohol. Just how much had she drunk?

"Where's Cody?"

Another shrug. "Don't know."

"He left you here?" Randy's anger was rising by the second.

"No. The twins did."

"Come on, Claire, time to go upstairs." Randy reached down, picking up her purse and collecting her shoes.

Claire shook her head and blinked a couple of times. "I don' wanna."

"We're going upstairs." Randy leaned down, gently taking her hands in his. She resisted for a second, then slowly stood. She swayed slightly, reaching out to grab Randy's arm. Randy looked down, taking in the small hand clutching his shirt. Randy's breath caught in his chest. Claire was finally reaching out to him. For a moment he let himself wish that things were different. He wished they were going upstairs for together for a much different reason. He wished she wasn't drunk off her ass. Randy handed the purse and shoes to her. Wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her, he guided her slowly towards the elevator and pushed the button for the 5th floor. Randy stood frozen as Claire took a deep breath and leaned against him. She was too drunk to hold herself upright. He slowly led her down the hall, hoping like hell she didn't decide plant herself face-first onto the floor. Finally they made it to her room. Randy felt like he had walked a hundred miles, instead of just a few feet down the hall. Randy leaned Claire against the wall.

"Where's the key?"

Claire thumped him in the chest with her purse. Randy arched a brow and looked down at the little black bag. He quickly unzipped the thing and rooted around for the key. Claire watched thru heavy lids as Randy dug thru her purse. Her eyes moved over the smooth planes of his face. For a moment she wondered if he would have dimples if he smiled. Too bad she'd never find out. Randy wasn't the smiling type. Her gaze moved lower, over the sculpted curves of his arms. Damn – he was finely built. The grey t-shirt clung to him like a second skin. A woman would have to be dead not to appreciate Randy's chiseled physique. Claire sighed and shook her head. "You know what, Randy?"

Startled, Randy glanced up at Claire. "What?"

"If you weren't such an asshole you'd be really hot."

Randy's eyes blazed for a moment and Claire wondered if she had really seen it. Damn she must be really drunk. Now she was seeing things. Finally Randy found the key at the very bottom of the purse. He quickly unlocked the door and reached for Claire. He turned her slowly and nudged her into the room.

"Get in bed, Claire." Randy nudged her toward the bed. Claire mumbled something he didn't understand before she collapsed face-first onto the bed. Randy stood beside the bed for a minute, looking down at her. He just couldn't believe how vulnerable she looked. Randy felt a surge of protectiveness fill his chest. Randy slid Claire's legs further into the bed and pulled the covers over her. He knelt down beside the bed, bringing her to eye level. Once again, he was amazed. She was so delicate yet so full of spirit. He couldn't help but admire her. Randy gently brushed a lock of hair from her face. Randy stayed there, this thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek.

Claire rubbed her other cheek against the pillow as her eyes slowly opened. "I'm sorry I made you hate me."

Claire's eyes locked with his. Randy's breath caught in his chest. He could see the depth of her sorrow. She truly believed he hated her. For a moment he wondered what she would say if she knew the truth. He didn't hate her. In fact, he was quite an admirer. Randy leaned over and gently pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Go to sleep, Claire."

Claire sighed deeply and closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a long time.

***A/N --- Please read and review. What do y'all think of Randy now?***