Parker tried to catch her breath, but she couldn't stop panting. Slowly bending at the waist, she let out a moan when she felt hands on the back of her head, pushing her chest flush against the bench. She tried to arch her back some, but that just made her moan louder. She could feel the sweat slowly trickling down her spine, and her hair clinging to her flushed face. "Fuck!" The anticipation was mind numbing. Her mind was ready, but her body was still preparing for it.

"Ready?" A deep voice boomed behind her before she felt a large hand on the small of her back holding her in position.

She sucked in her breath, accepting the inevitable. She used all of her might and sat back up right. "Sweet Jesus! I thought this shit was supposed to feel good." She had been trying, but no matter how long they had been at it, it never felt good. "This shit hurts!" It always hurt. It would never stop hurting. Long after they had finished, it would continue to hurt. "I can't believe you like this shit," she managed to grunt out, trying her best ignore every sore muscle that screamed at her in protest. "This shit ain't regular…it's not natural." She couldn't take it anymore. She never let things beat her, but she just couldn't handle it. "I can't take it. We have to stop."

She felt immediate relief when she felt the weight behind her shift. Lying on her back, she huffed and puffed and stared up at the ceiling. "You did really good. That was 20 reps. You should be proud." Dave Batista placed the heavy weight back on the bar and smiled down at her. "You're getting better every day."

"At what, killing myself? You lied to me Batista. You said that would get easier. You said that I would learn to love it. All it has made me feel is pain and a deep hatred for you." Reaching over to get her water bottle from the floor, she found that she didn't have the strength to lift it to her lips. "You're a sadist... and a horrible little man."

Shaking his head, Batista walked over to help Parker up from the bench. "Come on. You put in a lot of work today. All we have to do is weigh you, and I think you're done."

"First you torture me, and now you want to rub salt in the wound. I can't believe Randy calls you his friend." Allowing him to pull her from the bench, Parker grunted in pain when she finally stood up. She couldn't believe that for the last 45 minutes she had been lifting 60 pounds. She hated weights. She hated this gym. But, most of all, she hated Batista. "I hate you."

Nodding, Batista ignored her and led her over to the scale. "I know. You remind me every day how much you hate me." He pushed buttons on the digital scale to clear it from the last reading. He then entered her height before looking over at her. "Take your shoes off and let's get this over with."

She would take off her shoes if she could get legs to work right. Not only did he make her lift for what felt like an eternity, but for an hour before that, he had her running on the treadmill. Didn't he know fat people weren't supposed to run? It was against the laws of physics. All it was doing was ensuring that she would need knee replacement surgery in the next few years. It was bad enough that she had recently developed a Baker's Cyst on the back of her right knee, forcing her to wear a knee brace. And let's not talk about her hips. They felt like they were going to break at the joints. Everything hurt. Even her hair. "Whose idea was this, anyway?"

"It was yours. You called me, remember?" Did he have to be so calm all the damn time? It was so annoying. Parker normally thought Dave Batista was a great guy. He was someone that Randy looked up to and talked about with such affection. When she first met him she couldn't believe how cute he was, and he was equally as sweet. He was so different than Randy. He wasn't loud and obnoxious. He had this quiet, cool about him that oozed sex. Plus he had muscles in places she didn't know existed. He didn't feel the need to flirt, like Orton did. Dave Batista was a silent Lady Killer. All he had to do was look at you with those brown eyes and you were his. He was truly a sight to behold. That was until he started training her. Now he was just big muscle-bound asshole that got off on torturing her. There was no longer anything remotely attractive about this man. To Parker, Dave Batista equaled pain.

He was right, though. She did call him. After that incident with the lingerie, Parker decided that she had to do something. She knew she was fat, but now Randy knew it, too. She never again mentioned to Randy anything about the lingerie or why it made her so upset. Just telling him that something was 16 sizes too small was all the talking about her weight that she would ever do with him again. She couldn't figure out how she felt about it. She loved the fact that Randy liked her. He didn't see her as a fat ass. But, not noticing that she couldn't fit in a size 12 meant that Randy didn't notice her. It was a double edged sword. One that pierced both ways.

John Cena and the rest of the world hadn't been over to get past her weight. Randy, the man that she adored and was in a relationship with, didn't even notice her enough to see that she had a weight problem. Was it better to be seen or not seen? Being invisible had its perks, but now when she was invisible to the one person that she wanted to see her. That's why she called Batista. That is the sole reason why she had made time in her schedule to go to the gym every fucking day, no matter how much she hated it, or cursed the day that Dave Batista was ever born. It didn't matter that sometimes she worked for 48 hours straight, or that she was on her feet all day seeing patients. If she had some down time, Batista made sure she went to the gym in the hospital. It was like he had his little spies all over the place encouraging her to keep training. God forbid she didn't check in with at least one of his trainer minions. All hell would break lose. Somehow it always got back to him. And when it did, she could take to the bank that someone would be knocking on her door in the middle of the night to make her get up and go for a jog, or do boot camp at 5 in the morning.

These people were crazy. Not only did they have her lifting weights, running all over Baltimore as if she was on a bad episode of The Amazing Race, they also had her eating fucking rabbit food. She was put on a strict 2,000 calorie diet that left little too no room for modifying. They had her keep a food journal, documenting everything she consumed, and the amount of calories she burned. Dave had this crazy idea that if she only ate 2,000 calories, but burned at least 3,500 calories a day that she would lose weight faster. Parker was more confident that she would lose her ability to walk, or better yet her life, if she kept up with this stupid ass plan.

"And now the moment of truth." It had been six weeks since her last weigh in. Parker closed her eyes and prayed to God that the few times she cheated on her diet in the past week, wouldn't show on the scale. If she had gained a few pounds, she had her story all ready to go. She would tell him that she was about to start her period and it was just that she was so bloated. She couldn't tell him the truth. It was summer now, and McDonald's came back out with the Frozen Strawberry Lemonade. How could she resist that when the McDonald's was right on the corner of her street? She had already stopped eating bread, most sugar, flour, beef and pork. He really wanted her to give up the Strawberry Lemonade, too? Come on. Rome was not built in a day. "Ha-Ha! You did it! Way to go Parker!"

She looked down at the scale and instantly felt tears spring to her eyes. She did it! She beat her goal for this six week cycle of hell. "227? Are you serious? I lost another 20 pounds!" She was so excited that she couldn't help herself from jumping up and down on the scale. She quickly stopped when her knees reminded her of how sore they were.

"That's a total 58 pounds. You're doing great!" Dave Batista smiled and gave her big hug. "Now, you need to rest up, and don't forget to soak. Tomorrow, you start Insanity. You're going to need all your strength."

Insanity? Really? She was a big girl, who in the hell thought that was a good idea? "No, you're insane if you think I'm doing that shit. Can't we go back to Zumba? I'll even do that bitch Jillian Michael's work out at home, twice a day. I promise." She liked Zumba. It was fun and she could dance and work up a sweat. Hell, she even took to Belly and Bollywood Dancing. Anything with music, she into. But Insanity? Hell to the no! She had made her protests known, but it continued to fall on deaf ears.

"Insanity or PX90. You pick."

Was he seriously retarded? "Hey, I'm paying you, remember? I'm the customer and I'm right. I don't like the choices. I'm doing Zumba."

"No, I'm the trainer, and it's not open for discussion. I'm in town for a week, and you are doing some serious cardio and plyometrics while I'm here." Patting her on the shoulder, Dave turned to walk away. "You don't have to be at work until noon, so I expect you here at 6. We can run for an hour, then do 90 minutes of something I pick. That'll give you time to get yourself together before you have to be at work."

Fuck that shit. She wasn't doing it. It was bad enough that Body Pump had her feeling like she was going to throw up. Now, he wanted this from her, too. If she did happen to throw up during her work out tomorrow, she was going to make it a point to do it on him. It would serve him right, the bastard.

No matter how much she didn't want to think about the pain that tomorrow would bring, Parker couldn't help but to smile. She was almost 60 pounds lighter. Sure she was in pain, but it was making a difference. She could start to see the pay off. She had gone from a size 26, to a 20. Forcing her to buy all new clothes. She was starting to get curves, and not just rolls of fat. When she was naked, she could make out where her true waist was located. Sure she had a long way to go, but it was happening and she was excited about it.

Parker limped to the door and looked through the peep hole. She could smell him through the door. Randy was wearing the Sexual cologne she had bought for him a few months ago. God, he smelled good. She took in a deep breath and turned the knob to open the door for him.

It had been almost three months since he had seen her. Sure they talked on the phone every day, and Skyped each other once a week, but Randy hadn't seen her in person in way too long. Things around WWE had changed so much lately. Him and Cena were headliners now. Rebuilding the brand was pretty much up to their popularity. It was Orton's time to shine and he took that responsibility seriously. His taping schedule was twice as busy, often finding himself on every show, if only to make a cameo. Plus, his other promotional duties were outrageous. He couldn't seem to get away no matter how hard he tried. It was getting harder and harder for them to see each other. Parker's rotation guaranteed that she had almost no free time, either. Although they both loved their jobs, Randy couldn't help but to feel like their careers were building a wedge between them.

He still wasn't sure if it was really their schedules, or if Parker was still salty about the last time they saw each other. They had that big fight about some stupid nightie he bought her. Had he known that she didn't like lingerie he would have saved his money and done something else. He was never going to make that mistake again. He didn't need skimpy underwear to turn him on. She turned him on. He just hoped that she still knew that. And he hadn't forgotten that they never talked about what really pissed her off so bad about it. He still didn't know if it was the style, color, size, or the fact that she thought that he wanted her to dress up for him that pissed her off. It could have been one or all of those things. He never asked her again. After they made up, he didn't want to run the risk of her getting mad about it again, so he left well enough alone. He knew what Mickey thought, and Cena. But, what did they know? They didn't know his girl. Not like he did, and he was sure that the size of the garment wasn't the real issue.

"What the in the hell happened to the girls?" It was the first thing he noticed when she opened the door. She looked great. Vibrant. Happy. She had lost some weight. It was noticeable in her face. Hell, she was even wearing a dress. He hadn't seen her in a dress since they went to her father's retirement party. His girl was beautiful, and she looked better than he remembered. But something was wrong.

It wasn't actually the reaction that she was hoping for. Parker had worked her ass off for several months now to lose weight. She was hoping that he'd notice and say something nice about it. He could have commented on her hair. She had gotten several inches cut off and gotten highlights. Or he could have commented on the cute black Jersey dress she was wearing. It was now, 3 sizes smaller. But no, all he noticed were her breasts. "I missed you, too."

He didn't want to argue. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. Leaning down to meet her lips, Randy planted a kiss on her that told her how much he had missed her. Pulling back from the kiss, he looked at her face. Happy he had left her breathless, he decided to ask her again before the oxygen made its way back to her brain. "I did miss you. Now, what did you do to my girls?" Holding her breasts in his hands, he felt her up in the doorway. He shook his head in disbelief. "That's about a whole cup size… A double D, now, right?"

"How do you know this stuff?" Parker moved to let Randy in the door and closed it behind him. "So?" she shrugged her shoulders. She didn't think she'd have work this hard to get a compliment out of him. She had been killing herself in the gym every day, anxiously anticipating surprising him with her weight loss, and all he could manage to say was something about her chest.

"You look great. You always look great." He meant it. He wasn't quite sure the reaction she wanted. If he got all excited about the fact that she lost weight, she would think that he thought she needed to lose weight before. If he didn't say anything, then he wasn't acknowledging the fact that she was working out. He had been down this road weight discussion road with her a few months ago and he was NOT going it again. "Why didn't you tell me you had started working out?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the couch. "I wanted to surprise you. Batista's been training me."

"Whoa! He's pretty intense. He used to train me back when he was still at WWE. That dude takes working out extra serious." By the time Randy rounded the couch to sit next to Parker he already had his shirt off, and his pants were unbuttoned. Why was acting like she didn't know how things worked with them? They would talk…just later. Right now they needed to be doing things other than talking. It had been three months for Pete's sake. He lifted his brows to her and looked at her incredulously. "So, you gotta take off your clothes so I can see the rest of the fruits of your labor, or am I going to have to imagine what you look like under that dress?" That was the in he needed. He sounded interested without getting too far into it, plus he could get her naked at the same time. Sometimes the man was a genius.

Parker stood up and removed her dress, smiling at the way Randy was looking at her. He always looked like wanted to eat her up before. But now, he looked like wanted to devour her. She wondered if he would feel like he was having sex with another woman. Her body had changed so much, she wasn't sure if he'd still like it as much.

She didn't have too much time to question, because by the time her dress hit the floor Randy had her sitting on the couch, while he knelt in front of her attacking her chest. They were smaller, but they were still amazing. "You really do look great." His muffled voice said from in between her breasts.

Running her hands over his head, Parker leaned back and enjoyed the feeling of his body on hers. "Thank you."

A/N: I know it has been a month in Sunday's since I've written anything. I have writer's block so bad it's been ridiculous. I keep trying to write but I hate everything that comes out. Since I've had my meds changed, I'm not as neurotic as I was – that's the upside. The downside is being medicated stifles my creativity. So thoughts live in my head, but I can't get them on paper. Something hit me today and I just felt like writing.

I decided to change the direction of this story. Body Image was more of a reflection of what I felt like being overweight. This story was about what it feels like when you feel like you have to live up to what you think the person you love sees you. But, over the last 18 months I've lost 100 pounds. I've dealt with that trying to be that perfect person part and now I'm in the maintaining your weight and getting comfortable in your new body part of the journey. I've gone from one body image to another. Hopefully, you guys will still be able to dig it and that Parker doesn't let anyone down.

I appreciate your patience, the emails, PM's, and reviews. You always encourage me to keep writing. I hope I haven't let too much time lapse and that I don't disappoint. I really don't know where I'm going with this or how frequently I'll update. Just know that I haven't given up on it. Just don't give up on me.

As always…enjoy, and be easy!

Shanny