A/N: It was after a great deal of consideration on behalf of this story that I decided to discontinue the sequel - Tiny Dancer Two: Dancing in the Dark - and revisit the ending of Tiny Dancer. I really do like this story and I feel as if, upon re-reading the last chapter - formerly, Epilogue: The Tarantella - I cheated the story out of the ending that it deserved. I am very sorry about this, and would like to apologize now to the readers who were disappointed by the ending of this story. In re-working it now, I will do my best to give the story the ending it rightfully deserves. Again, I am very sorry about this entire ordeal, and apologize for any inconvenience that this might cause. Thank you, and I hope that you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

The next day, Adam offered to take the girls to the park while Randy worked. Now that he was temporarily out of work (Randy insisted that he didn't start work until after the wedding, and since he was so tired from his pregnancy, Adam hadn't hesitated to accept Randy's offer), he made it his mission to get as close to his daughter and future step-daughter as possible. He wanted Alannah to feel comfortable with him and Brielle around, and he wanted Brielle and Alannah to be friends. The only way to do that, he reasoned, was to have them spend some time together.

The pretty blond now sat on one of the old, rickety park benches, watching as his two girls happily played in the sandbox. Brielle had so much sand in her hair, it wasn't even funny. It would take hours to wash all of that out. But she had a wide, brilliant smile on her face as she showed the smaller girl how to shovel sand and put it into a pile with the rest of the sand for their sandcastle. He smiled, leaning back and attempting to make himself comfortable. He was so focused on the scene before him that he almost didn't notice a frilly pink stroller rapidly approaching on his left.

"Well, look who it is." Adam looked up, that smile never fading when he saw his best friend, Jeff, and his three-week-old daughter. "And here I thought that you fell off of the face of the Earth or something. I haven't heard from you in forever, man. How are you?"

"I'm... good. Very good, as a matter of fact." He sounded surprised, and he was. He'd never really thought he would be in a place where he could say he was one-hundred percent happy with his life. Now, that day had come and life was... good.

Jeff put the stroller next to the bench, before taking a seat beside his friend. "You know, I was there when Vince received your resignation letter. Well... let's just say that he accepted it with extreme prejudice. You probably just got his entire club shut down... you do know that, right?"

His smile faded a little, and he nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I do. But I can't really dwell on that." He said. "My decision was for my benefit, and for Brielle's. Not for Vince's."

Jeff clapped a hand onto Adam's shoulder, "It must've been a tough decision."

"Not really." Adam quickly denied. "Not after I found out that I really was pregnant. With all of the risks that I took when I was pregnant with Brielle... and then the incident with Chris... I couldn't do that again. I had to get out. It's much safer that way." And then, a thought occurred to him, "What about your job?"

Jeff sighed. "A lot of the patrons left when you did. And I mean a lot. It didn't take long for news of your resignation to travel. Because of the decrease in profits, he had to lay off a lot of the dancers. Unfortunately, I was one of them."

"Oh my God, Jeff, I never meant -,"

But Jeff cut him off. "No, really, I don't blame you. You made the best decision for you, so there was nothing you could have done."

"But how are you going to support Larissa and Phil until Phil can go back to work?"

Here, Jeff smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up brochure for an expensive, overseas art school. Inside of the brochure was an acceptance letter, which also revealed that his tuition had been fully paid in advance. "I'm going to art school. If it weren't for you telling me to call John, none of this would be possible."

Overcome with emotion, Adam suddenly leaned over and embraced his best friend. He was at a loss about how to feel right then. Should he be happy? Of course! His best friend would be chasing after his life-long dream to become an artist, and would have an official, legal means of making money to support his beautiful, young family. Should he be sad? That was yet another understandable emotion. After all that they had been through, after all that Jeff had done for him... Jeff would now be overseas, following his dream, and seemingly leaving Adam behind when Adam needed him most.

"Hey! Hey, now... no crying, okay? It's gonna be okay. It's not like I'm leaving forever, right?" Adam didn't even realize he was crying until that moment. "And if you want, we can Skype every day. That way I won't seem so far away. How does that sound?"

"G-Good." Adam forced out, leaning back a bit and wiping his eyes. Finally, he moved all the way back to his previous position and watched the two girls playing once more. "I'm sorry that you lost your job, Jeff."

"Eh?" Jeff made a serious of unintelligible sounds. Then he waved it off. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Addy. I was gonna leave there, anyhow."

Adam nodded, rubbing at his eyes absently. "How is Larissa doing?"

"Larissa? Oh, she's an absolute doll. You wouldn't even know that anything went wrong with the pregnancy." Jeff assured. He reached over and pulled her out of the stroller, showing her to Adam. She certainly was a chubby little thing, but those green eyes were absolutely breathtaking. "Yep... she's as healthy as we could have ever dreamed."

"That's good." Adam smiled. He really was pleased to hear that, knowing how awful Jeff had felt during those few moments he thought Phil and the baby would die.

"And how are you and the baby doing?" Jeff asked suddenly, taking the concentration off of him for a change.

Adam's eyes widened. "Us?" Jeff nodded. "We're doing just fine. The nausea has been going away and I've been able to eat more, so..."

"That's great news! It seems like this pregnancy is going a lot smoother than your first." Adam hummed his agreement, absently stroking his still-flat stomach. "But I'd still take it easy. There is no reason to take meaningless risks. You're far enough in that both of your lives are at risk, now."

For a moment, Adam simply stared at the two girls. With the way that Brielle was running around, chasing her soon-to-be little sister without a care, you wouldn't have guessed that she had had a heart condition. "Yeah. You certainly don't have to tell me that twice."

They spent the rest of the afternoon on that park bench, underneath the tree, talking about love, life, and everything in-between. It should have been a perfectly happy moment, but the dark cloud of Jeff's imminent departure loomed over them. Finally, around two o' clock, Jeff told Adam that he had to pick Phil up from a doctor's appointment. After a quick goodbye, he packed Larissa back into her stroller and set off for the middle class cut-out of town. Adam watched him leave with a heavy heart, swallowing down the irrational fear that he would never see him again.

A little while later, the girls got hungry, so he took them to the Olive Garden for lunch. They ordered the same thing - spaghetti and meatballs - and were both barely able to finish because they had gorged themselves on unlimited breadsticks earlier. And yet, somehow, there was always room for soda. Even as they left the restaurant, that was all that they wanted. Soda. Adam couldn't help but roll his eyes as the little girls laughed and hiccupped from all of the caffeine that they had had. He really should have cut them off after the second coke... Oh well, hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Adam climbed into the front seat of the SUV (one of Randy's many cars) and peered into the mirror to see Alannah and Brielle's anxious faces. "Whose ready to go pick up Daddy at work?" He chimed. The girls clapped and giggled excitedly.

"We are!" They cheered. Adam smiled. Did it ever get any better than this?

"You know, the more that I think about it, the more that I'm sure I've met Chris before." Randy said off-handedly in bed that night.

"Why is it that you always have to have a deep and meaningful conversation after sex?" Adam sighed, rolling his naked body off of Randy and making himself comfortable on his side of the bed. "Well? If you're going to keep me up, might as well get on with it."

Randy rolled his eyes. "You're cute when your exhausted."

"Who wouldn't be exhausted after four rounds?" Randy had the libido of a sixteen-year-old! And normally, Adam could keep up. But recently...

Randy didn't answer. He simply pecked Adam on the shoulder and stroked his fluffy blond locks absently. After a moment, the pretty blond relaxed and moved closer to rest his head on Randy's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure he wanted me to hire him on as a model."

Adam choked on the air, his eyes growing huge at the hysterical idea. "Chris? As a model? Oh God, next thing you know, Brock Lesnar will be wearing a tutu!" That was all it took to get him to break down into fits of uncontrollable laughter - damn hormones.

But Randy was dead-serious. "In fact, I think I still have his paperwork." Yes, the memory was coming back vividly now...

"Your coffee, Mr. Orton." AJ Lee, a bubbly woman (who was a little on the crazy side) who had been his secretary for close to five years now, handed him a fresh cup of coffee. "You have a meeting with a potential client today."

Randy nodded as he scrolled through his agenda, which AJ had taken the time to download onto his computer. "Chris Jericho, forty-one. He's the lead in the band 'Fozzy' and is from Canada."

"I've heard that he's a bit egotistical, sir." AJ said matter-of-factly.

"Do you have any evidence of this?" Randy asked.

AJ nodded, but her brown eyes were wide and unsure. "He's met with Phil about the independent circuit before."

"What did Phil say to him?" Randy asked.

AJ turned away as she answered, "He turned Jericho down, and Jericho took it upon himself to introduce a beer bottle to Phil's head. Be careful with him, Mr. Orton. He's not to be underestimated."

"Am I not always careful?" That was a loaded question if she had ever heard one. "What else do I have for today?"

AJ shook her head. "Nothing, sir. The promotional company for our newest ad had to cancel and rescheduled for tomorrow, so you're in the clear."

"Thanks, AJ. I'll let you know if I need anything else." Randy said dismissively.

"Okay, sir." AJ answered, before she walked out of his office and into her own.

Slowly, Randy started to look into Chris' file. He did have experience before when it came to the modeling industry. He had that hard-rocker style, with blond hair and blue eyes, which really seemed to be the 'in' look at the moment. However, what AJ had said troubled him. Randy didn't want someone that would cause trouble with the other models or the managers. It wouldn't be fair to have to worry about harassment in the work area.

"Mr. Orton? Mr. Jericho is here to see you." AJ said over the intercom.

"Send him in." Randy ordered calmly.

Immediately, Randy knew that he was in way over his head. Just from the way the man walked, he believed that he was the greatest thing to hit the earth since diamonds… and was more expensive too. But arrogance doesn't sell magazines. Arrogance doesn't sell products. Even if Jericho was a veteran of this business, he obviously still had a lot to learn if he wanted to be hired at All World Productions.

Randy rose and shook his hand, ever the gentleman. Chris had a firm grip, almost a little too firm. When Randy drew his hand back, his palm was red and a little bit of the color had drained out of his tan. He motioned for Chris to take a seat in the expensive, black leather armchair in front of his desk. The rock star threw himself down and crossed one leg over the other. Randy didn't like this guy at all.

"So, Chris. What made you want to come and work for All World Productions?" Randy asked. He had a generic sheet of questions that had to be answered, plus a few off the top of his head to determine a man's character.

"I heard that you're the best of the best." Chris answered simply, as if his answer was obvious. "And since I'm the best in the world, I believe that that is a match made in heaven."

"Yes… you do refer to yourself as the 'Best in the World' several times. Why is that?" Randy inquired.

"Because I am." Chris said.

Randy raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer, Mr. Jericho. If you want to work for a business like All World Productions, you have to have two things. Talent and character. So far, you don't have either."

Chris frowned. "Obviously, a foolish COO who works every day from nine to five has no idea what real talent is, and wouldn't even know if it bit him in the ass! Bring one of your managers in here and see what they think of me!"

"You're not in any position to be making demands, Mr. Jericho. Now, calm down." Randy ordered.

"Do it." It was Chris' turn to order Randy around.

"You know what? I think I've finished my evaluation. I'll be sure to have my people call you with the full results." Randy sneered. "Now, leave my office before I call security down here and have them remove you."

"No." Chris bit back.

Randy slammed his finger down on the intercom. "AJ, call security."

Within minutes, the men from security had Chris by both arms and were practically dragging him out of the office. Randy snickered to himself. Some men just never mature. The best in the world, Randy scoffed. Without much thought, he tossed the file folder into the trash bin. His final evaluation? That man needed a serious reality check. They didn't need people with his kind of mindset at All World Productions.

Randy had managed to locate the file, which he handed to Adam. All laughing suddenly ceased as he carefully pulled the papers out of the folder, looking them over with a critical eye. Chris didn't really have much in the way of credentials - and, as prompted by the list of necessities when applying for the modeling job, those credentials included all past incidences of drug use and jail time (and there was a lot of jail time) - and he had virtually no recommendations whatsoever. So, Adam wasn't the only one who thought that Chris was a complete creep...

Suddenly, Adam got up off of the bed, file-folder still in hand, and made his way over to the fireplace. Randy had lit it after Adam complained of being cold, before offering up another way to keep Adam warm - thus causing his current exhaustion. After looking over the files one last time, Adam dumped them into the fireplace rather unceremoniously. The flames leapt up, licking the pages, and destroying any evidence that Randy and Chris had ever crossed paths. But for Adam, the significance was much deeper. It wasn't the pages burning in the fire. It was whatever remaining bond he had with Chris.

"What did you do that for?" Randy asked, sounding confused and moderately indignant.

Adam stared at the flickering flames for a moment, before offering, "To prove to you, once and for all, that Chris is my past... and I'm ready to move forward and create a future with you. I..." here, he swallowed hard, closing his eyes. And when he opened them, Randy could see the true depth of Adam's pain. "I love you, Randy."

Randy didn't even hesitate to say, "I love you too."