Playing With Fire - 4/? - T - Lita/Orton
Title : Playing With Fire
Chapter : 4
Pairing : Lita/Orton
Diclaimer : I own Jack Shit.
Warnings : I totally disregard storylines after this chapter - the speech from the Highlight Reel is the exact words spoken by those characters involved.
Summary : She had no choice: if she wanted her career back, she had to join them. She had to give everything up and become one of them. An Evolution / Lita fanfiction, set in 2003/2004
Previous parts : Parts 1 - 3
There was no denying Hunter’s anger as they made their way down the ramp; the muscle in his jaw was tensing constantly and, while the fans took this to be because of Nash’s interference in the Goldberg match or just because of Goldberg in general, Lita knew it was because of her. She had been stupid to think she could ever have gone through with this - the whole Matt thing had been nothing but now Trish… There was no way she could become a part of Evolution and she had told Hunter this, upon him finding her sitting outside the faction’s locker room, her head against the wall, after she had resumed Trish’s position. Needless to say, the World Heavyweight Champion had not taken to this idea and had insisted that she make her way down to that ring with him or ‘so help him’. The threat wasn’t empty, she knew that much, but she had forgotten to bite her tongue and had, quite simply, told Hunter to fuck off. The bruises that were slowly forming on her arm showed that Hunter had gotten his way after that.
The redhead was met with boos for the first time in her life that evening and, swallowing hard, was pushed almost roughly into the ring by Hunter who ushered Ric from the apron as he attempted to hold the ropes for the newest member of ‘the family’. Randy Orton turned to glance at the diva before moving back to lean against the ring post, his arms stretched out either side of the turnbuckle. Dave stood nonchalantly by Ric’s side, wiping a small droplet of blood from his chest while Hunter took the microphone forcefully from Lilian Garcia. “And that, ladies and gentlemen,” he rasped into the microphone, his eyes glaring towards the bloody body laying in the centre of the ring. “Is how Evolution deal with our opposition.” The man seemed to soften, for he was no longer glaring. In fact, if Lita wasn’t mistaken, he had just extended his arm to her. Considering the argument which had occurred just five minutes ago, she questioned whether she should accept. “Come here, Princess.” He said with his face contorted into what she assumed was a smile. Truth be told, Lita had never seen a smile on Hunter’s face and, really, it was scary. “See, we’re a team of elitists and, Lita here, is the Elite diva. But she had a problem; a problem we could solve. And that problem is Matt Hardy. Now that that problem is gone,” Hunter motioned back towards Randy and Dave and, upon watching the recording later that evening, Lita was sickened to notice that she unintentionally smirked at this point. “Lita can rise up to her full potential once more. And what better way to do it, than as part of the Elite?”
Ahh so this was his plan, thought Lita as she stared blankly out at the crowd. Earlier in the night, while watching backstage, she had noticed a few fan made signs for her, all claiming that they would miss her or that she should return. Gazing up at the crowd, none were visible. Hunter’s going to make you feel bad - they’ve already filled their part of the bargain but you’re going to bail. She knew what was about to happen and yet she couldn’t stop the guilt she felt as he grinned back at her, that sinister smile sending a chill into her very being. “So what do you say, Lita - are you in or are you out?
His hand remained outstretched towards the diva who appeared to dither for a second. Her face showed confusion and, for a second, Hunter was certain she was going to back out, that he could get what he want, that he could humiliate her. “I’m in,” she said, a smirk which looked wholly out of place on her pretty features, her hand coming into contact with Hunter’s which, surprisingly, was soft as he held her hand high in the air.
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“What a way to end Raw, huh?” Randy asked, lounging lazily in the limo as they headed towards ‘that great ribs place’ long after the ending credits of Raw had rolled. “Who saw that coming?” Reaching over, the third generation superstar grabbed a packet of chips which he had left in the limo before the show for ‘post-show munchies’. Crunching his way through a handful of chips, he added, “Amazing.”
Hunter glanced towards the younger man, his gaze quickly turning to linger on the redhead, the only female in the car. “For a minute there I didn’t think that Miss Priss over there was going to join us,” it sounded more like a question as opposed to a statement. His eyes were quizzical as they bore into the diva who, in turn turned to face him.
“I told you I’d join, didn’t I? I gave you my word. That’s enough,” she replied stiffly, swallowing hard. “Isn’t it?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow as Ric temporarily distracted him, reaching across to pull the chips from Randy’s hand and telling him, in a mother-hen ton, ‘You wont eat your ribs if you eat all of them’. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Lita. “I’m just saying, Lita, that this is all about dedication - If you’re not in this one hundred percent, you’re not in this at all.”
“I’m in it,” she turned her body to face the self-proclaimed ‘leader’ of the faction. At this point, she could feel four pairs of eyes turning to stare at her. There was a moment’s silence between the four, the only sound being Randy’s loud chewing until she clarified, “One hundred percent.”
This seemed to be all the proof that Randy, Dave and Ric needed for the three relaxed and their conversation turned to whether Randy should or should not be allowed to finish his bag of chips. But Hunter just returned to his silence.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The rib house was exactly as Lita had expected; the walls and wooden fixtures painted a dark red, the wooden flooring covered in saw dust and a pungent smell of meat. The redhead sat between Randy and Ric, both of whom were heartily tucking into a large rack or ribs, proving that Randy could, indeed, finish his ribs as well as his chips. “Great place, huh, Princess?” Ric asked, his lips stained a strange red colour from the barbecue sauce.
The redhead glanced at her salad and fries and shrugged noncommittally. Sure, what she had eaten had been nice but what rave review was there to give about a couple of sliced potatoes and a few bits of lettuce. “You don’t like it?” Randy asked, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “I mean, we can always go somewhere else afterwards - I’ll drive you there. I’ve only had one drink so far…” Lita raised an eyebrow in the direction of the young man. “I’m just saying if you don’t want to eat anything…We can go to some place else later - somewhere vegetarian, you know?”
After that, Lita was no longer the only one with a raised eyebrow as, in turn, Ric, Dave and, finally, Hunter, turned to face the youngest wrestler at the table, each with an eyebrow raised. “That would be nice and all but, really, Randy, I’ll pass,” the Georgia native replied, plunging her fork into a piece of lettuce. A smirk came to Dave Batista’s face as Randy nodded, admitting defeat. “Really, the salad was fine.”
“You sure?” Dave asked, more to continue the conversation rather than out of interest.
“Fucking hell,” Hunter said exasperatedly, banging his fork and steak knife down onto the table with a clatter. “It is just a meal. Does it really matter if she likes it or not? Stop fawning over her. All of you. Seriously. She’ll thank you for it.”
While the diva didn’t agree with the approach or the way he seemed to blame her for the ‘fawning’ - his eyes told his opinion - she had to admit, she was quite glad of the change of topic. It seemed unnerving, really, to have three men who, until a few days ago had shown nothing but hate towards her clucking around her like the proverbial mother hen.
The drive home, just like the initial drive to the arena, was silent on the diva’s part. Hunter’s outburst had brought the evening to a close and, while Ric had paid for the extravagant meal, the other four had bundled themselves back into the limo where Randy had resumed eating his chips, Dave had announced that he would be ‘entertaining’ one of the divas that evening and Hunter had complained about the temperature of the limousine. But now, as they hurtled towards the hotel - at an alarmingly high speed for a limo - the limo was full of chatter from the four men, the only female staring, once more, out of the window.
“Actually, just let me out here, yeah?” Randy asked when the limousine was still at least half an hour from the hotel. “I got some uh, business I gotta settle tonight.” Lita wanted to ask what this ‘business’ was but when the other three men just looked away, allowing the youngest to leave, she figured that it had to be rather serious for even Hunter not to question it.
Randy Orton and his duffel bag soon became a small speck as the limousine picked up pace once more. “What kinda tricks was he pulling back at the rib house?” Hunter asked, just seconds later. In a high pitched, unrecognisable imitation of Randy, Hunter added, “I’ll take you to go get your vegetarian food, Lita. I’ll do anything to help you. Honest.”
Dave rolled his eyes but said nothing in response. Ric on the other hand, felt the need to defend the younger man. “He’s just a kid, Hunt,” he said, shaking his head. “Nice girl sitting next to him, he’s gonna want a piece of that. Especially when she looks like Lita, here.” The Charlotte native inclined towards her as he added, “No offense, Lita.”
The ‘none taken’ she offered was lost as Hunter spoke over her, “Well he better quit it - Evolution’s a team. If he’s gonna have his tongue hanging out every time she’s around, chasing her around like a little puppy, we’re gonna crumble.”
“Its not like that, Hunter,” the words left her mouth before she had realised it and, cursing herself inside, she found herself the centre of attention once more. “I mean, sure, he was acting like a…like…well, like a love sick puppy earlier. But maybe that’s just how he thinks a gentleman should act? He’s hardly getting a good example set by you three.” The silence after her words didn’t last long as all three men burst out laughing, the laughter continuing over Lita’s cry of ‘what’s so funny?’ until the car pulled up outside the hotel.
“Orton? A gentleman? Why don’t you ask Stacy what a real gentleman he is?” Dave said, thrusting the diva’s duffle bag into her arms as he, Ric and Hunter left her to make her own way to her room, all three heading towards the hotel bar.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Orton must think I’m stupid,” Lita muttered, throwing her body onto the bed and pulling the red, regulatory starchy sheets over her. Her body was tired and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. Just one week ago she had lay in a hotel room, crying herself to sleep, devastated at the loss of her job and yet, here she was, laying wide awake and thinking of the way she - and Evolution - had ‘put paid’ to Matt Hardy.
The bloody image of Matt Hardy played over and over in her mind as sleep evaded her and she found herself thinking more and more about her night, specifically, Trish’s exit. After the blonde had left her, she had sat there, head pressed against the wall, salty tears slowly making their way down her cheek. And that was exactly how Hunter had found her. She had told him, as steadily as she could, that she had changed her mind, that she didn’t want to be in Evolution anymore and that she would be happy to just leave the arena, thanking him for his kind offer to get her job back. And, as events later that evening showed, he had not taken that as an answer. And, right at that moment, she was glad.
She had been back at the hotel for exactly thirty-eight minutes, tossing and turning for twenty five of them, when her eyes began to droop, sleep finally taking over. She was drifting between consciousness and sleep when a loud bang came at her door, the diva sitting bolt upright, chewing her lip as the bang came again. Matt Hardy had come to her door and was probably going to kill her. Her heart raced, the colour draining from her face as her eyes locked onto the door. “For Christ’s sake, Lita, I know you’re in there,” her eyebrow took a slow rise until it was sitting somewhere near her hairline. “Now move and answer this door.”
It was better than Matt Hardy - she couldn’t deny that - but she certainly did not want that man in her hotel room. She pushed back her covers before forcing out a quick ‘I’m coming’. Passing the bathroom, she glanced in towards the mirror and rolled her eyes - she had never looked less like a wrestler in her life. Dressed in pyjamas emblazoned with ‘cheeky monkey’, a small pink monkey peeking round from the side and with her hair pulled back into a braid, Lita looked about fourteen years of age and the WWE’s biggest player was banging on her door. Any other female would have been embarrassed by this appearance, but not Lita. She just wanted him to leave her alone.
The redhead hauled open the door to her room and stared defiantly at the man before her. “What do you want, Orton?” she asked, one hand on hip, the other rubbing at her eye sleepily.
The dark haired man towered over the short diva and pushed his way into the room, a white plastic bag in his hand and leaving behind him a distinct smell of noodles. “You didn’t eat much at the restaurant - I just thought I’d get you dinner. You like Cantonese?”
Chapter : 4
Pairing : Lita/Orton
Diclaimer : I own Jack Shit.
Warnings : I totally disregard storylines after this chapter - the speech from the Highlight Reel is the exact words spoken by those characters involved.
Summary : She had no choice: if she wanted her career back, she had to join them. She had to give everything up and become one of them. An Evolution / Lita fanfiction, set in 2003/2004
Previous parts : Parts 1 - 3
There was no denying Hunter’s anger as they made their way down the ramp; the muscle in his jaw was tensing constantly and, while the fans took this to be because of Nash’s interference in the Goldberg match or just because of Goldberg in general, Lita knew it was because of her. She had been stupid to think she could ever have gone through with this - the whole Matt thing had been nothing but now Trish… There was no way she could become a part of Evolution and she had told Hunter this, upon him finding her sitting outside the faction’s locker room, her head against the wall, after she had resumed Trish’s position. Needless to say, the World Heavyweight Champion had not taken to this idea and had insisted that she make her way down to that ring with him or ‘so help him’. The threat wasn’t empty, she knew that much, but she had forgotten to bite her tongue and had, quite simply, told Hunter to fuck off. The bruises that were slowly forming on her arm showed that Hunter had gotten his way after that.
The redhead was met with boos for the first time in her life that evening and, swallowing hard, was pushed almost roughly into the ring by Hunter who ushered Ric from the apron as he attempted to hold the ropes for the newest member of ‘the family’. Randy Orton turned to glance at the diva before moving back to lean against the ring post, his arms stretched out either side of the turnbuckle. Dave stood nonchalantly by Ric’s side, wiping a small droplet of blood from his chest while Hunter took the microphone forcefully from Lilian Garcia. “And that, ladies and gentlemen,” he rasped into the microphone, his eyes glaring towards the bloody body laying in the centre of the ring. “Is how Evolution deal with our opposition.” The man seemed to soften, for he was no longer glaring. In fact, if Lita wasn’t mistaken, he had just extended his arm to her. Considering the argument which had occurred just five minutes ago, she questioned whether she should accept. “Come here, Princess.” He said with his face contorted into what she assumed was a smile. Truth be told, Lita had never seen a smile on Hunter’s face and, really, it was scary. “See, we’re a team of elitists and, Lita here, is the Elite diva. But she had a problem; a problem we could solve. And that problem is Matt Hardy. Now that that problem is gone,” Hunter motioned back towards Randy and Dave and, upon watching the recording later that evening, Lita was sickened to notice that she unintentionally smirked at this point. “Lita can rise up to her full potential once more. And what better way to do it, than as part of the Elite?”
Ahh so this was his plan, thought Lita as she stared blankly out at the crowd. Earlier in the night, while watching backstage, she had noticed a few fan made signs for her, all claiming that they would miss her or that she should return. Gazing up at the crowd, none were visible. Hunter’s going to make you feel bad - they’ve already filled their part of the bargain but you’re going to bail. She knew what was about to happen and yet she couldn’t stop the guilt she felt as he grinned back at her, that sinister smile sending a chill into her very being. “So what do you say, Lita - are you in or are you out?
His hand remained outstretched towards the diva who appeared to dither for a second. Her face showed confusion and, for a second, Hunter was certain she was going to back out, that he could get what he want, that he could humiliate her. “I’m in,” she said, a smirk which looked wholly out of place on her pretty features, her hand coming into contact with Hunter’s which, surprisingly, was soft as he held her hand high in the air.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“What a way to end Raw, huh?” Randy asked, lounging lazily in the limo as they headed towards ‘that great ribs place’ long after the ending credits of Raw had rolled. “Who saw that coming?” Reaching over, the third generation superstar grabbed a packet of chips which he had left in the limo before the show for ‘post-show munchies’. Crunching his way through a handful of chips, he added, “Amazing.”
Hunter glanced towards the younger man, his gaze quickly turning to linger on the redhead, the only female in the car. “For a minute there I didn’t think that Miss Priss over there was going to join us,” it sounded more like a question as opposed to a statement. His eyes were quizzical as they bore into the diva who, in turn turned to face him.
“I told you I’d join, didn’t I? I gave you my word. That’s enough,” she replied stiffly, swallowing hard. “Isn’t it?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow as Ric temporarily distracted him, reaching across to pull the chips from Randy’s hand and telling him, in a mother-hen ton, ‘You wont eat your ribs if you eat all of them’. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Lita. “I’m just saying, Lita, that this is all about dedication - If you’re not in this one hundred percent, you’re not in this at all.”
“I’m in it,” she turned her body to face the self-proclaimed ‘leader’ of the faction. At this point, she could feel four pairs of eyes turning to stare at her. There was a moment’s silence between the four, the only sound being Randy’s loud chewing until she clarified, “One hundred percent.”
This seemed to be all the proof that Randy, Dave and Ric needed for the three relaxed and their conversation turned to whether Randy should or should not be allowed to finish his bag of chips. But Hunter just returned to his silence.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The rib house was exactly as Lita had expected; the walls and wooden fixtures painted a dark red, the wooden flooring covered in saw dust and a pungent smell of meat. The redhead sat between Randy and Ric, both of whom were heartily tucking into a large rack or ribs, proving that Randy could, indeed, finish his ribs as well as his chips. “Great place, huh, Princess?” Ric asked, his lips stained a strange red colour from the barbecue sauce.
The redhead glanced at her salad and fries and shrugged noncommittally. Sure, what she had eaten had been nice but what rave review was there to give about a couple of sliced potatoes and a few bits of lettuce. “You don’t like it?” Randy asked, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “I mean, we can always go somewhere else afterwards - I’ll drive you there. I’ve only had one drink so far…” Lita raised an eyebrow in the direction of the young man. “I’m just saying if you don’t want to eat anything…We can go to some place else later - somewhere vegetarian, you know?”
After that, Lita was no longer the only one with a raised eyebrow as, in turn, Ric, Dave and, finally, Hunter, turned to face the youngest wrestler at the table, each with an eyebrow raised. “That would be nice and all but, really, Randy, I’ll pass,” the Georgia native replied, plunging her fork into a piece of lettuce. A smirk came to Dave Batista’s face as Randy nodded, admitting defeat. “Really, the salad was fine.”
“You sure?” Dave asked, more to continue the conversation rather than out of interest.
“Fucking hell,” Hunter said exasperatedly, banging his fork and steak knife down onto the table with a clatter. “It is just a meal. Does it really matter if she likes it or not? Stop fawning over her. All of you. Seriously. She’ll thank you for it.”
While the diva didn’t agree with the approach or the way he seemed to blame her for the ‘fawning’ - his eyes told his opinion - she had to admit, she was quite glad of the change of topic. It seemed unnerving, really, to have three men who, until a few days ago had shown nothing but hate towards her clucking around her like the proverbial mother hen.
The drive home, just like the initial drive to the arena, was silent on the diva’s part. Hunter’s outburst had brought the evening to a close and, while Ric had paid for the extravagant meal, the other four had bundled themselves back into the limo where Randy had resumed eating his chips, Dave had announced that he would be ‘entertaining’ one of the divas that evening and Hunter had complained about the temperature of the limousine. But now, as they hurtled towards the hotel - at an alarmingly high speed for a limo - the limo was full of chatter from the four men, the only female staring, once more, out of the window.
“Actually, just let me out here, yeah?” Randy asked when the limousine was still at least half an hour from the hotel. “I got some uh, business I gotta settle tonight.” Lita wanted to ask what this ‘business’ was but when the other three men just looked away, allowing the youngest to leave, she figured that it had to be rather serious for even Hunter not to question it.
Randy Orton and his duffel bag soon became a small speck as the limousine picked up pace once more. “What kinda tricks was he pulling back at the rib house?” Hunter asked, just seconds later. In a high pitched, unrecognisable imitation of Randy, Hunter added, “I’ll take you to go get your vegetarian food, Lita. I’ll do anything to help you. Honest.”
Dave rolled his eyes but said nothing in response. Ric on the other hand, felt the need to defend the younger man. “He’s just a kid, Hunt,” he said, shaking his head. “Nice girl sitting next to him, he’s gonna want a piece of that. Especially when she looks like Lita, here.” The Charlotte native inclined towards her as he added, “No offense, Lita.”
The ‘none taken’ she offered was lost as Hunter spoke over her, “Well he better quit it - Evolution’s a team. If he’s gonna have his tongue hanging out every time she’s around, chasing her around like a little puppy, we’re gonna crumble.”
“Its not like that, Hunter,” the words left her mouth before she had realised it and, cursing herself inside, she found herself the centre of attention once more. “I mean, sure, he was acting like a…like…well, like a love sick puppy earlier. But maybe that’s just how he thinks a gentleman should act? He’s hardly getting a good example set by you three.” The silence after her words didn’t last long as all three men burst out laughing, the laughter continuing over Lita’s cry of ‘what’s so funny?’ until the car pulled up outside the hotel.
“Orton? A gentleman? Why don’t you ask Stacy what a real gentleman he is?” Dave said, thrusting the diva’s duffle bag into her arms as he, Ric and Hunter left her to make her own way to her room, all three heading towards the hotel bar.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Orton must think I’m stupid,” Lita muttered, throwing her body onto the bed and pulling the red, regulatory starchy sheets over her. Her body was tired and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. Just one week ago she had lay in a hotel room, crying herself to sleep, devastated at the loss of her job and yet, here she was, laying wide awake and thinking of the way she - and Evolution - had ‘put paid’ to Matt Hardy.
The bloody image of Matt Hardy played over and over in her mind as sleep evaded her and she found herself thinking more and more about her night, specifically, Trish’s exit. After the blonde had left her, she had sat there, head pressed against the wall, salty tears slowly making their way down her cheek. And that was exactly how Hunter had found her. She had told him, as steadily as she could, that she had changed her mind, that she didn’t want to be in Evolution anymore and that she would be happy to just leave the arena, thanking him for his kind offer to get her job back. And, as events later that evening showed, he had not taken that as an answer. And, right at that moment, she was glad.
She had been back at the hotel for exactly thirty-eight minutes, tossing and turning for twenty five of them, when her eyes began to droop, sleep finally taking over. She was drifting between consciousness and sleep when a loud bang came at her door, the diva sitting bolt upright, chewing her lip as the bang came again. Matt Hardy had come to her door and was probably going to kill her. Her heart raced, the colour draining from her face as her eyes locked onto the door. “For Christ’s sake, Lita, I know you’re in there,” her eyebrow took a slow rise until it was sitting somewhere near her hairline. “Now move and answer this door.”
It was better than Matt Hardy - she couldn’t deny that - but she certainly did not want that man in her hotel room. She pushed back her covers before forcing out a quick ‘I’m coming’. Passing the bathroom, she glanced in towards the mirror and rolled her eyes - she had never looked less like a wrestler in her life. Dressed in pyjamas emblazoned with ‘cheeky monkey’, a small pink monkey peeking round from the side and with her hair pulled back into a braid, Lita looked about fourteen years of age and the WWE’s biggest player was banging on her door. Any other female would have been embarrassed by this appearance, but not Lita. She just wanted him to leave her alone.
The redhead hauled open the door to her room and stared defiantly at the man before her. “What do you want, Orton?” she asked, one hand on hip, the other rubbing at her eye sleepily.
The dark haired man towered over the short diva and pushed his way into the room, a white plastic bag in his hand and leaving behind him a distinct smell of noodles. “You didn’t eat much at the restaurant - I just thought I’d get you dinner. You like Cantonese?”