______________________________________________________
Stacy was so shaken up on the ride back to the hotel that she was literally shaking. However, it wasn't so much over her fight with Miss Jakie as it was something else.
Randy became startled suddenly as he steered the rental car. The leggy blonde diva had burst into tears and was sobbing into her right hand. He'd never expected that, especially after she'd walked out of the arena proudly, with her head held high.
"Stacy..."
The blonde continued to cry.
"Aww, Stace..." The young, dark-haired man reached out to her with his right hand, his eyes ever so briefly leaving the road to examine her. He grasped her hand gently, and, despite her tears and misery, the diva squeezed his hand back. After a few minutes, her weeping subsided.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
The blonde woman wiped at her cheeks, somewhat embarrassed that she'd broken down like that. Damn it, she'd wanted to be strong about this. It wasn't like her to just give in like that. To Stacy, crying over the disgusting act of a jerk like Eric Bischoff was a definite sign of weakness. And she hated that trait, especially in herself. Besides, Randy had to have been right when he'd said the Playboy thing couldn't possibly be legal. After all, *she* hadn't signed anything - and Bischoff hadn't said a thing about *forging* her name... Not that she wouldn't put a thing like that past him. After all, the RAW General Manager wasn't exactly known as the most scrupulous of characters.
She nodded and pushed some blonde strands off of her still damp face.
"Yes - I'm fine," she insisted, sitting up a bit more, her back now ramrod straight. She truly did hate herself for crying. Why did she have to be so weak and wishy-washy?
They were approaching the hotel, and Randy parked the rental in a space across the street. Stacy undid her lapbelt and started out, but before she could make a grab for her bag in the backseat, he stopped her.
"Look at me..."
The leggy blonde met his deep blue eyes, a look of tenderness on Randy's face as he began to speak to her.
"Everything is going to work out fine," he assured her. He raised his hands so that they were against either of her cheeks.
Stacy bit her lip as she gazed directly into his eyes, his face so close to hers. Damn if she wasn't more aware than ever of her attraction toward him. Truth be known, the diva would jump at the chance to be with Randy Orton. Not only was he incredibly good- looking, he was also a sweet, kind and cherished friend. Many a night she'd dreamt of him - of *them*.
However, for the moment, the leggy blonde found herself unable to speak. Instead, she nodded, her brown eyes blinking slowly as she absorbed Orton's aura of confidence.
She didn't speak a single word as Randy walked her into the hotel a moment later, her mind too consumed by tumultuous thoughts.
"Ahh... here we are," the Intercontinental champion spoke as they reached the door to her hotel room. "Three-oh-seven." He was still holding her bag, and he gestured with a slight tilt of his head before the blonde woman utilized her keycard to open the door.
Orton slid her bag through the crevice, laying it gently just to the right of the door on the inside, then straightened up to meet her eyes.
"Well, I'll be going now. If you need me for any reason-"
His statement was cut short as Stacy suddenly stepped forward, pressing her lips firmly on his. He found himself instantly responding and kissing her back, his arms wrapping around her narrow waist. He was left nearly breathless a moment later when the tall blonde diva broke the kiss.
"Stay with me tonight?"
Stacy's request was issued so softly, Randy hardly heard her. Her brown eyes stayed on his blue, and she appeared slightly shy despite her overt, bold words.
The young man moved closer again, again kissing her as they slipped
into the room in one another's embrace.