It Could Be Worse

Disclaimer: Still own nothing. ;)
Author's Note: An on-time chapter:) Finally! Thanks for the reviews; glad we didn't lose everyone.Hope you guys like!
Thanks to: Myth87, Latisha C, and ShadowShawna!

---

Randy Orton sighed to himself as he sipped his drink, looking around the club. He was currently alone in the booth. John had disappeared to get something from the bar. Dawn and Lita had gone to find another table, unable to enjoy themselves with thick smoke wafting around them from the booth next to them. It didn't matter that the building was a no smoking one – people just didn't listen these days. Randy leaned back in the seat, watching the people having a good time on the dance floor.

If someone had told him two weeks ago that at this time he would he having a good time with Lita, John and Dawn, he would've laughed in their face. Oddly enough, he owed Bischoff. Randy rubbed at his eyes, his exhaustion finally beginning to catch up with him. He felt a remorseful tug in his stomach when he realized that this wasn't going to last. Soon, he would go back to Evolution, and things would be back to the way they'd been before. The clubs seemed to have a different aura when he went with Evolution. Here, with Lita, it was about having fun and relaxing from the day. But with Evolution it was about bragging and getting bimbos to fawn over you. The thought of going back to that sickened him.

And that was what concerned him the most. The more time he spent with Lita, the more he wanted to stay with her. She symbolized everything his life wasn't: fun, exciting… And it wasn't just that. Lita herself was simply indescribable. When they were together, he didn't have to try. He didn't have to be Randy Orton the Legend Killer around her. Evolution was about work, success and fame. But that didn't bring happiness for Randy. Sure, he was more successful in his career, but… He ducked his head as he thought of the man, Cliff, in the breakfast restaurant. Lita was right. People judged you on who you hang out with. He'd thought it was unfair then, but now he understood. Back before this traveling fiasco had started, he hadn't just been hanging out with Hunter. Hunter's personality was rubbing off on him. The people you spend time with eventually define you. Randy felt shame well within him as images of women he'd had fawning over him ran through his mind. He didn't know a single thing about them, about their personalities.

"Orton, buddy!" Randy's eyes shot up from the table, and he froze immediately. Hunter was standing next to the booth, beer in hand. "What's up?" Uninvited, he sat down across from Randy. Randy found his voice a second later.

"H, I'm sort of here with some one," he replied, "maybe you should…"

"Where's the broad?" Hunter looked around the room, completely ignoring the undertones of Randy's sentence. Randy sighed heavily, looking around as well, hoping that Lita, Dawn and John wouldn't return while Hunter was here. "You know, I had this cute little thing all over me last night…"

"Hey," Randy interrupted, disgust bleeding into his voice. "We're not…like that. Just friends."

"Oh," Hunter raised his eyebrows. "So she's not the attachment type?"

Randy felt anger welling up within him. "Hunter," he said flatly, dangerously. "Please go away. I'll see you when the rosters join up together again, and I'll tell you all about what I've done this week, but you have to go." He wouldn't tell him the truth, of course. Just some twisted version of the truth. Some version that was completely the opposite. That biting feeling of shame was back again with a vengeance.

"Oh yeah, how's it going with Lita?" Hunter asked, and chuckled. "She's a looker, but a whore at best."

"And how would you know?" Randy couldn't resist from replying.

"Oh, please. How do you think she got into the business?" he scoffed. "How do you think she stayed?" he laughed. "She's probably even doing Bischoff. Come on, seriously, she's not a good anything; Diva, wrestler, or otherwise. Must be good in bed though," he mused, completely oblivious that Randy was glaring at him. If looks could kill, Hunter would be dead several times over. "Hey, listen buddy," Hunter reached over and clapped Randy on the shoulder. "I'd do her if I were you. You know, get something worthwhile out of this mess." He laughed, and Randy's hands curled into fists. The urge to lunge across the table and show Hunter why he was the Number 1 Contender was intensifying by the moment. Randy knew he couldn't just get rid of Hunter by telling him to leave. He looked across the dance floor and saw Lita and Dawn making their way back. He knew how bad it would look if they saw him with Hunter. Pushing the wonderment of why he was concerned of what Lita thought of him aside, Randy bit his lip, thinking hard on how to get Hunter out of there.

"You got it," Randy shoved a smirk on his face, though it was the thing he wanted to do the least. "Love 'em and leave 'em," he forced a laugh, and Hunter grinned. "She's so easy, it won't be hard," Randy scoffed. He could nearly hear the blood pumping through his veins.

"All right, buddy. I'll leave you to it," Hunter replied, smirking as he stood and retreated to wherever he had come from. Randy sighed with relief, leaning back into the seat.

"You almost had me fooled." The venom and anger in the words spoken startled Randy. He looked for the speaker and saw John Cena standing beside him, his drink in his left hand and a ferocious look on his face.

"It's not like that!" Randy said immediately, jumping up from his seat and facing John. "Please hear me out, John," he pleaded, his eyes wide as his mind repeated 'Oh God' over and over in his mind. John would tell Lita, and…oh, God. This was not happening.

"I think I've heard enough from you," the amount of fury that John could hold in his eyes was astounding. "After the rosters get back together, I never want to see you so much as near Lita again," he hissed. "And if you touch Lita…" he trailed off, the consequences of such an action not needing to be verbalized. John glared at him for one long moment before walking off, intercepting Lita and Dawn. Dawn threw a confused look to Randy as the three exited the club. Shell-shocked, Randy collapsed back into the booth.

John would tell Lita, and every bit of friendliness they'd accumulated would be ruined. Lita would hate him for the scum he was; hate herself for thinking he was something better than the group he worked with.

And he doubted he could fix it.

---

Lita looked at herself in the mirror, her arms shaking with anger. Anger at Evolution, anger at Randy, anger at herself… Hot tears rolled down her eyes, smearing her make-up. She couldn't find it in herself to care. 'Is this all he sees when he looks at me?' Lita asked herself inwardly, staring at her reflection in the clingy red dress. 'Just an easy whore,' she swiped at her tears with one hand. All Randy wanted was a good lay. Everything – the cab, his gentleman-like actions – it was all just an act.

She hated herself. Hated herself for not realizing that. Was she so desperate for a man that she had become so stupid? Dawn had tried to comfort her when John told her, but as sweet as it was, Lita couldn't make herself believe that Dawn was investing completely in the truth. Dawn had told her that she wasn't stupid, that Randy had her fooled too. Maybe Dawn had been fooled – but nevertheless, Lita should have known better by now. Silently, she lifted her foot and took off the high-heeled shoe, repeating the process on her other foot and tossing the shoes by the bathtub. Looking back into the mirror, another surge of emotion went through her. She had been having fun with Randy. That was the part that made this that much worse. Lita had fallen for the act. A soft knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. The redhead grabbed a tissue and wiped all traces of tears off of her face before exiting the bathroom and heading to answer the door.

---

"Lita," Randy said softly as she opened the door. Her eyes were narrowed and she only opened the door a crack. Randy felt his heart plummet at the hostility she was displaying toward him, but he understood. He saw the redness of her eyes, and hated himself for being so much of a coward. He should've stood up to Triple H. Should've done something other than sit there and say those words. Whether they were true or not didn't matter – the fact that he had said them was the only thing that made a difference. "Hear me out," he pleaded.

"Why?" Lita asked ferociously, her angry eyes running over him in a different light now. "So you can spin some more lies? I know what you've been trying to do, Orton. You're exactly what I thought you were." Randy felt the sting of her remark. "The only reason I'm still here is because I have to be. After Summerslam I never want to see you again." She left no area for him to speak; her words were laced with finality. She shut the door as she spat, "Good night." Randy stared at the door for a long moment before leaning his back against the wall beside it.

There were some things you just couldn't fix.

---