It was a lot of road from Mobile, Alabama to Tupelo, Mississippi, 276 miles to be exact. The rental car situation had been a nightmare. Ever since Memphis' flight had landed from New York, it had been nonstop chaos. She'd had to cab it straight it to the arena in order to not be late for the show. In the process, she had missed picking up her car, which had been subsequentally returned to the fleet and loaned to another customer. In between getting ready for the show and trying to clear all that up, at the last possible minute, literally seconds before she was due to walk out and referee a match, Hertz notified her via cell phone that she had lost her place on the top of the list of backup cars due to the original reservation being in the name of Philip Brooks. The representative did not care that she was Phil's girlfriend or that he had not been scheduled to work the Alabama house show and instead would meet up with the rest of the RAW crew through a flight straight to Mississippi. In a nutshell, she was shit out of luck. But it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for mishaps to happen with travel and when it did, the fellow crew members and talent were always there to have each other's backs. Memphis knew it would not be a problem to hitch a ride with anyone on the roster, minus the other referees.

The show went off without a hitch and the energy from the fans was as electrifying as usual. Memphis had officiated a match between her former arch nemesis Ted DiBiase Jr. and Bryan Danielson, better known to the WWE Universe as Daniel Bryan. She and Ted had had nothing to say to each other after the last incident where he had doused her in Randy Orton's tobacco spit. The Corporate brasses had forced him to apologize and he had done so in a less than sincere and enthusiastic fashion but such behavior was to be expcted. The two had kept their distance from each other backstage, limiting all interaction to whatever transpired in the ring. Memphis had been afforded the courtesy to turn down refereeing his matches in light of what had gone down but in her true fashion, she had refused the special favor and went on about her business accepting assignments as they came, no matter which Superstar or Diva was involved. Ignoring Ted's dirty looks and obvious disdain at being forced to job once again, they had gotten through the seven minutes. The match was next to the main event and Memphis had taken her time getting undressed and showering. When she emerged from the locker room, to her surprise, most of her friends had already taken off, headed to the next city without her. She hadn't had time to mention her need for a ride prior to the show and now standing in a fast emptying arena with her bags at her feet, she was beginning to regret it. Looking around, she saw a final glimmer of hope pulling out of the dark parking lot. Running with all her might, she chased down the bus banging on the doors with all her might. It slowed and finally stopped, the doors opening as Frank the driver peered out.

"Lady, are you crazy?" he looked at her as if she was.

"Frank, what the fuck, man?" grumbled an angry and familiar voice from the background.

In gym shorts and a grey tee shirt, a stone faced Randy Orton appeared. His face narrowed as he peered outside and his expression changed to a look of confusion as his blue eyes finally softened.

"Sorry, boss. This woman came out of nowhere. I had to stop. I damn near ran her over."

"It's okay," he said before turning to Memphis. "What's going on? You alright?"

"No," she pouted. "Look, I am so sorry for this. I have had the worst, no the most unbelievable day. First of all, Hertz aboslutely sucks. They screwed up my reservation and I have been arguing with those assholes all day and I basically told them to go fuck themselves, which probably wasn't the smartest move in the world considering I now have no way to get to Tupelo. I meant to catch a ride with Nattie and TJ or John and Melina…Mike, hell anybody but I didn't say anything and now they've all left."

Randy folded his arms and smirked.

"There's always Michael Cole. He's usually one of the last people out of the building."

Memphis cringed.

"Cole is gone. I checked so do you mind? I mean, this is a pretty big bus. Is there room for one more?"

"I don't know," Randy teased with that calculated demeanor the Apex Predator used to tantalize the fans. "I mean, it does seem that I am your last resort for a pretty big favor. That kind of stings the feelings, you know, that you would rather have rode with Michael Cole before asking me…"

"Randy!" she pouted again.

He couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay. Get on."

"Thank you," she huffed, passing him her bags before stopping. "Oh wait. Shit."

"What's the matter?"

"One sec," she pulled out her phone and dialed.

The answer was immediate.

"What's up, Dollface? How was the show?"

"Good, um, really good. Everything went well. How are you? How was your day?"

"Uneventful. Just packing for tomorrow. You on the road yet?"

Memphis looked up at Randy who was eyeing her carefully and not even pretending that he wasn't listening to her conversation.

"I am. Well, I'm about to. See…it's a funny story actually. Well, not really. Anyway. I didn't get a chance to pick the car up before work so they gave it to someone else. I got on a standby list but then those fuckers booted me off when they saw that the reservation was in your name, not mine. They gave me the run around, I got pissed and basically got bumped for a car, which sucks. I was going to catch a ride but everybody left the arena before I had a chance to ask so now I'm pretty much stuck."

"That does suck. You okay?"

"Yeah."

"What are you gonna do?"

Memphis tugged at her lip.

"Randy was here. Uh, he says, it's, you know, it…it's cool if I go with him. It's just a few hours and…"

She was met with dead silence. After the awkward pause, she heard Phil take a deep breath.

"Okay."

Memphis frowned.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Why not? I mean, you've got to get to the next town somehow or another, right?"

"Well, yeah but…"

"But what?"

"I, it's just that I know he's not your favorite person," she turned and lowered her voice. "You two don't like each other and…"

"Mutual hatred, you mean."

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"Something like that. Anyway, I know this looks bad and I don't want you to be uncomfortable but I really have no choice. I know how you feel about Randy but you and I talked about the trust thing so I wanted to be straight up with you."

"And I appreciate that, Memphis. It is about trust. And I trust you. I don't like it but do what you have to do and I'll see you in the next city."

She sighed out loud.

"I love you, Punk. You know that, right? And I can't wait to see you."

"Ditto, kid. Call me when you get to Mississippi, let me know you're okay."

"I will, babe. Have a good night," she hung up, still uneasy.

He had reacted better than she ever could have expected. It was a pleasant surprise but even though he had been cool and nonchalant about it, she detected a hesitant, troubled undertone in his voice. Shaking it off, Memphis exhaled and boarded the bus where Randy was waiting. Frank closed the doors behind them, then slowly pulled off. It was her second time on the bus. The décor was brown and the narrow walkway led to a spacious brown couch with a loveseat placed in front of it. It was much neater and a lot more litter free than her last visit.

"I can put your stuff in the back," Randy offered, still holding her bags.

"Thanks."

She followed him behind a curtain was a simple but comfortable looking bed was made. Behind another curtain was a door that led to a bathroom.

"This is pretty much it. Make yourself at home. I've got drinks in the fridge and if you're hungry, I'll get Frank to stop. If you want to lay down, go ahead. I can crash on the sofa."

"Oh I'm fine. Thanks. I'm not that tired," she rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans.

The last thing she was going to do was fall asleep on Randy Orton's private bus.

"Cool," he collapased on the love seat, motioning for her to sit on the couch, which she did.

"This is nice," she looked around. "Fancy."

"Thanks. So how are you? How have you been?"

"Good," her eyes darted around. "Good."

Randy smirked again.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"Nervous?" she repeated unusually loud. "I'm not nervous. Why would you think that? What makes you say that?"

Randy shrugged.

"Just from the way you're acting. Maybe it has something to do with the phone call you just made."

"Randy…"

"Hey," he put his hands up defensively. "It's cool. I get it. You had to get your permission slip signed."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Phil…"

"I was not asking his permission."

"Could have fooled me."

"I was simply letting him know what the situation is. It's called courtesy and respect. He is my boyfriend and I am traveling unexpectedly with another man, someone he does not like very much, might I add. It was the right thing to do, being upfront with him."

"Okay. Whatever you say."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That thing you always do. That ridiculous smirk always plastered across your face."

"I call it a smile and I thought it was charming."

She shook her head.

"More like condescending."

"I was just messing with you. Couldn't resist when it comes to having some fun at Phil's expense."

"You're forgiven…this time," she leaned back into the plush comfort of the designer sofa.

"Beats a Hyuandai from Hertz, huh?" he raised one eyebrow.

"Any day," she had to admit. "A girl could get used to this."

"Maybe you'll get your own bus soon, considering you're about to blow up with the whole FHM thing."

"I doubt that," Memphis blushed.

"How did the shoot go?"

"Good. Very well actually. I was nervous but the people were really cool, a very professional and friendly staff. They made me comfortable. I got to listen to music, which really helped. We had gone over the setup for the shoots already. They whisked me into hair and makeup and as weird as it sounds…I felt like a different person."

"What do you mean?"

"I looked in the mirror and saw this really hot, really bad ass chick staring back at me. All of a sudden I felt so sexy and confident. We shot all day, then they did the interview. The issue will be out in about a month and a half."

"Awesome," Randy nodded. "So how did the film look?"

"I don't know. They sent me a few stills. I actually just got them in the mail yesterday but I was too chicken shit to look."

"Did you bring them?"

"They're in my bag. Why?"

Randy reached into a briefcase under the chair.

"Remember our little deal?"

Suddenly it all came flooding back, what they had promised each other.

"Are those…"

"Yeah. My lawyer forwarded them to me Friday."

"And you haven't looked yet?"

He shook his head and in that light she saw an oddly comforting vulnerability sweep over the Viper. Without another word, Memphis stood and went to the back, retrieving her own Manilla envelope. She rejoined him as they stared at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Randy half joked.

Memphis swallowed hard.

"Mine is way less important," she said as they exchanged envelopes. "You can open it first."

He did so without another word. Her heart pounded as he pulled out several of the glossy photos. He eyed them, his expession, his eyes never changing. After a few minutes, he handed them to her.

"You gonna look?"

"I…"

"Still nervous?"

"Petrified," she chuckled.

His eyes met hers and he was dead serious.

"Don't be," he said matter of factly. "The pictures are amazing."

His words made her heart skip a beat. With trembling hands, she took the pictures and forced herself to look at them. Her hair and makeup was flawless. In the first photo, she wore a white bikini, her smooth skin was oiled and perfect looking, showcasing proportioned breasts, a set of killer abs, and an ass one could serve breakfast off of. The next shot was a sexy profile of her in skimpy lace, black panties and a cutoff striped referee's tank top. She was seductively posed on all fours, staring provacatively at the camera.

"Oh my God…"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think," she spoke in awe. "I, I can't believe that's me."

"Believe it. In a few weeks, the whole world is going to be looking at those pictures."

"Now you're making me all nervous again, Orton," she laughed.

"Good job."

She took a deep breath.

"Thank you. Now, um…it's your turn. You ready?"

Randy looked away.

"May as well get it over with, huh?"

Memphis carefully opened the envelope and pulled out its contents. Her eyes scanned the documents as Randy studied her face for any reaction.

"The probability is over 99.9999%..."

"Holy fuck," Randy sucked in a breath.

"…That you're not the father."

"What?" he whipped his head around.

She bit her lip.

"Did you hear me?" she asked softly. "The baby is not yours, Randy."

He lowered his head and breathed a huge sigh of relief. He looked up, his face turning red as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Damn…"

"You okay? How do you feel?"

"Relieved," he replied honestly. "Like I just dodged a bullet."

"You did."

He nodded.

"Damn. I'm not gonna lie, Memphis. I was scared out of my mind. I was not ready to be a daddy. Hell, I don't even like kids."

She smiled a faint smile.

"I find that hard to believe. I've seen you with the little fans. You're incredible."

"I don't know about all that," he played it off.

"Well, I guess this was a good thing. You weren't ready and you and Hannah don't even really know each other."

"It sucks. I was prepared to step up. I didn't want to…but I was going to."

"It was the right thing to do. You've matured a lot, Randy in the last few months. That situation was bigger than you were. Sometimes to do the right thing, you have to step outside of yourself. I'm proud of you for that, for what it's worth. And for the record, I think you would have found your way. You would have been a great dad."

"Maybe. Hopefully," he answered thoughtfully. "Who knows? The thought of having a kid freaked me out. The thought of having to raise a kid with a woman I barely even know freaked me out even more. I mean, I guess I've thought about it, starting a family years down the road and stuff but not now. My career is my life. Hannah didn't even live in Missouri. How can I be on the road 285 days a year and raise a child?"

"I'm sure it's tough but people manage."

"My dad did. He did a hell of a job, too. We butted heads through the years and had our share of battles but I really love and respect the man. If I could be half the father he was, maybe I'll do alright."

"I can tell he has been a strong influence in your life both inside and outside the ring."

"He has. His opinion…it counts. And trust me, he wasn't happy with the whole Hannah situation. Neither was my mom. That made it worse. It wouldn't be the first time I've disappointed him and probably won't be the last but it just sucked, you know? Dads…dads are tough."

"Tell me about it."

"What about your Old Man?" Randy inquired. "How does he feel about the whole wrestling thing? Think he is gonna freak out when he sees the FHM?"

Memphis looked away.

"He won't care. He, um…he never paid much attention to what I did. I could blow the world up and he wouldn't give a damn. We don't have much of a relationship these days so you were right."

"Right about what?"

"That day on the plane when we sat together and ended up arguing. You said that I struck you as the girl with the daddy issues who probably wanted to make it big in wrestling just to prove a point to him and get his attention. Well, a part of you…that was right."

She looked hurt like she might cry. Randy could tell that there were many painful and deep layers to that story. In that moment he felt bad for her and he felt like even more of an asshole for being so cruel to her back when they didn't get along.

"I'm sorry, Memphis…"

She forced a smile.

"It's okay. Look, I am kind of tired. If you don't mind, I'm just gonna lay down here…"

"No, it's cool. You want the bed?"

"I don't know who or what has been on that bed. This tour bus has probably seen more ass than a toilet seat," she ribbed him. "I'm fine here."

He smiled at her and nodded. It had been a long night.

"I'll be in the back if you need me. We should be in Tupelo in a few hours."

"Okay. Hey Randy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for tonight. I needed a friend and you were a great one."

"Right back at you," he nodded.

She laid down, tucking her feet underneath her. For a few fleeting seconds, he stood by the curtain and just watched her. She looked so serene and peaceful. From the moment he had first laid eyes on her, he had decided that she, much like himself, was a complex individual. That statement had proved to be truer than he ever could have imagined. They had come a long way. They were on their way to becoming friends, real friends and that was nice. Randy really liked her. She had been there for him and he had found it surprisingly easy to let down his guard and share private things with her. He appreciated how she listened to him and did so without judgement. She had been there for him in his time of need and he in turn had tried to return the favor. Her fears had been understandable but unfounded. Her talent and beauty was going to take her far. The WWE and FHM were just the tip of the iceberg as far as Randy was concerned. And seeing those sexy photos had only proved that. He'd had to think of puppies and kittens and even the weather, anything to keep that bulge from forming underneath his shorts. But it had been hard…no pun intended. What normal, straight, red blooded man wouldn't react like that? Memphis Kramer was gorgeous.