A post production meeting had occurred after the live RAW broadcast and the subsequent untelevised dark match that always followed it. That meant that some of the talent and crew did not get out of the arena until almost one in the morning. Memphis was one of them. Phil had not been involved in the meeting and had been complaining all day of the pain from the nagging hip injury that had temporarily sidelined his wrestling career. She hated seeing him suffer so much so she had given him a hug and a quick kiss and sent him off to the hotel to rest. They had set in a board room backstage going over various production notes for upcoming events. When she finally was done, she was exhausted and looking forward to getting some sleep in a nice, warm bed.

But things had been going much better ever since that surprising night when Mike Mizanin and the other WWE Superstars and Divas made their amends and introduced themselves, calling a literal cease fire to the end of the Cold War that had begun when she had started with the company. She had been too relieved and happy to be skeptical of their actions but the genuine and accepting behavior had continued and the tension free backstage environment soon became the norm much to Memphis' delight. Sure there was the situation with Randy Orton and the fact that the other male referees still had sticks up their asses but other than that, life was pretty damned good.

"Hey Memphis, do you need a ride back to the hotel?" Melina Perez asked, waving as Memphis was gathering the last of her belongings.

Memphis looked up and grinned.

"No thanks. I have a car tonight. Phil caught a ride back to the hotel and left me the keys but um, I'll definetly see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing. I'll call you. Maybe you and Phil can have breakfast with John and me."

"Okay. Sounds good."

Memphis smiled to herself. It was a nice feeling, she thought as she wheeled her luggage out to the dark and emptied parking lot. For the first time she was actually fitting in and making friends. To her right she noticed that a few fans had lingered around. This was not uncommon. The WWE Universe was loving and loyal, even rabid at times. The fans were always clamoring to get a piece of the favorites that they saw on TV. Memphis rather enjoyed the attention. Their love and acceptance that had so greatly affected her reality was part of why she did what she did. She always put herself in their place. She could feel their excitement and their longing and she felt an obligation to appease them, take care of them, please them even. It was a responsibility she readily accepted and welcomed.

"Memphis, hey can we please get a picture with you?" a small group of fans excitedly asked.

"Sure guys," she smiled, putting her things down.

She happily posed for several photos and signed some autographs before thanking the fans and then heading towards the direction of her rental car.

"You're Memphis, that new referee, right?" a young guy asked with a nod as he puffed on a cigarette.

He was standing with two friends.

"Yeah. Hi."

"What's up? Can we get an autograph or something?"

"Of course. Who should I make it out to?" she asked, pulling out her black Sharpie.

They mumured something amongst themselves and chuckled. It made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Keith," he said.

She scribbled her name on his copy of a WWE magazine.

"There you go, Keith. You guys have a good night and thanks for coming out to the show."

"Where you headed off to, baby girl?"

"It's late," she cleared her throat. "I'm headed back to my hotel. We have a busy travel schedule ahead this week."

"Can I take you out to get something to eat?"

She blushed.

"Um, I appreciate the offer but I'm going to have to pass. Sorry. Thank you anyway."

"You got a man or what?" he asked.

She did not like where this was going.

"Yes and he's waiting for me now so I really have to go. Good night, guys"

"I'm sure he won't mind," he reached out and touched her arm.

Memphis recoiled at the physical contact. She looked around and felt uneasy noting that she appeared to be alone with the three men.

"Please don't touch me," she said politely but firmly.

"Oh I get it. You one of them uppity hoes, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"You think you're hot shit because you're a referee and all. You're not even all that."

Shaking her head, she turned to leave. The men were not letting her get away so easily. One even blocked her path.

"Can you please move out of the way?" she asked, hands on her hips.

She was feeling both irritation and fear.

"Leaving so soon? I thought we were getting to know each other. The party is just getting started."

"Guys, give it a rest. Come on."

"What's your problem? Hell, you lucky someone even wants an autograph from your tired ass. You act like you're some prize, like you're Maryse or Michelle McCool or something. You ain't shit."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well so sorry to disappoint you," she muttered sarcastically.

"Hey fellas, a bitch with an attitude. Imagine that?"

"What do you want?"

The one with the big mouth looked her up and down, then licked his lips.

"I can think of a few things. You might be some no talent trick but you look like you're a decent fuck."

Before she knew it, she felt a pair of arms snaking around her waist.

"Hey! Stop it," Memphis called out, elbowing the man and quickly pulling away.

"Oh that's assault. I'm hurt. I'm gonna sue you. I'm gonna sue Vince McMahon."

Another approached her and before Memphis could move she heard foosteps bounding towards her. She feared that it was the third guy but then there was silence and suddenly no one was touching her.

"What the hell…" she heard one of them say.

Turning around, that's when she saw him. Coming out of the shadows like a modern day super hero was the Viper himself. He had apparently pushed the two guys off of her.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked.

His body language was stiff and tense, his eyes icy and angry. He looked on with clenched fists.

"No, man, no problem," one said.

The other had the nerve to grin.

"Oh shit, you're Randy Orton. Can we get an autograph, dude?"

Randy smirked.

"An autograph?" he repeated. "You can't get an autograph but what you can get is the hell out of here."

"Look, man, we were just playing around…"

"It didn't look like playing to me," Randy retorted. "In fact, it looked like you three assholes were being rude and disrespectful to a lady, to someone who was nice enough to stop and talk to you and sign your stupid little magazine."

With that, he smacked the magazine out of the guy's hand.

"No disrespect, no disrespect…"

Randy stepped closer towards them, towering over them.

"You were being very disrespectful and I don't like it. Apologize," he directed. "Now!"

"We're sorry," they mumbled.

Randy walked even closer cauising the other two to retreat leaving the ring leader to the Legend Killer. That was fine by Randy. He grabbed the guy by his jacket collar, lifting him a few inches off the ground.

"Listen to me, you disrespectful, slimy piece of shit. I don't know where you get off putting your hands on women or trying to force yourself in their company but no means no and that's a lesson you need to learn, you stupid little prick."

"I learned my lesson, man, promise," he squirmed, his voice hitting a fearful almost feminine fever pitch.

"Get your sorry ass out of here before I beat you and your little homies here to the ground. And I better not ever see any of you again. If I do, I can't promise that I won't try to tear you three punks to shreds. I mean it. So I better not catch you in the stands, at fan events or especially lurking around some parking lot. You got that?"

"Okay, okay. We got it, man. Sorry. Just let me go."

He let them go and they went off scurrying like rats.

"Oh my God," Memphis tried to catch her breath.

"Are you alright?" Randy turned to face her.

Memphis looked away.

"I'm fine."

She picked up her bags and started walking away.

"Memphis…"

"Just leave me alone," she didn't bother turning around or stopping.

"I was just checking to see if you were okay."

"And I told you I was. You can leave now."

She had an attitude that was starting to unnerve him. He had been on his way to his bus and had caught sight of what looked like a fishy situation. The closer he came, the more he heard. It was disturbing and it made him angry. He knew the guys were up to no good and he felt an immediate instinct to protect her.

"Look," he bit his lip. "I know you and I have had our differences in the past or whatever and I get that you're stlll pissed off but I just saved your ass from those three jerk offs. There's no telling what they were going to do."

She finally stopped to face him.

"So? What do you want, Orton? A cartwheel? A cookie?"

His eyes narrowed.

"No but maybe a little gratitude would be nice."

"Gratitude? Dream on, hero," she shook her head.

"That's nice, real nice, Memphis," he grumbled.

"Let's see, three guys who I don't know and don't know me, accost me in a dark empty parking lot. They try to put their hands on me, make lewd comments, insult me and are just overall rude. One is a pushy ring leader and he has a bunch of dumb ass stooges following his pathetic lead."

"And I helped you before it got out of hand."

"Yeah but doesn't that situation seem oddly familiar?"

"What?

"Think about it. You swoop in and save the day like some knight in shining armor and all of a sudden I'm supposed to kiss your ass? Screw you, Orton. You are the biggest hypocrite standing on two feet. You have some nerve. What those guys just did, as horrible as it was, don't you realize that just up until a few weeks ago, that was you? You were the weird, disrespectful guy treating me like dirt, harassing me for no reason."

"Memphis…"

"You want some damned good samaritan medal? Get out of here. Not gonna happen. Those guys were jerks but there is no difference between you and them. You were just as bad as they were so no I'm not going to thank you and don't you think for a second, this makes up for or changes anything you did."

Her voice was loud, her face serious and angry. And she wasn't backing down, not for a second. Deciding it was better not to argue and just let her go, Randy did exactly that. He stood and watched as she safely made it to her car and took off. He took a deep breath. He was frazzled but then again she did seem to have that kind of affect on him. He had been so hellbent on saving her, he hadn't been prepared for her reaction. It stung him a bit especially because what she was saying was true. Randy Orton was rarely the guy who admitted he was wrong and when he did, he expected immediate forgiveness but forgiving him was the last thing on Memphis Kramer's mind. And a part of him couldn't blame her. Maybe John had been right during their little talk aboard his bus. Maybe it was better to just stay away from her. That was something his head could fully understand but he was having a hard time explaining it to his heart.