"Jesus H Baldheaded Christ on a Tapdancing Pony!" Sara sighed and stared into the beer; her fifth. "Where the fuck are you?"

RAW had wrapped its live three hour "season finale" earlier that night… Sara could not figure out why Erik insisted on calling it that since next week would be another live show. It was not like there was going to be three months of reruns. Liksansuk insisted on a steady stream of footage and since they were technically calling the (come) shots, it was business as usual.

Normally Sara preferred to go home immediately after the show, but tonight was different. She only had one match to referee, and after that, her bed was the only place she wanted to be. One text from Tom had changed all that. It seems that the love of his life had requested his release from the company and also walked out of Tom's life on the same night. Tom had been there for her so many times, so the least she could do was be his crying towel for a night, but that didn't excuse his lateness.

Thankfully no one in the bar was from work, or more questions would be asked… not that she would answer them anyway. She was just signaling for another beer when the door opened and a familiar face walked in. No, it wasn't Tom.

Please don't let him see me…

"Sara?"

Fuck me sideways with a beer bottle.

"Sara?"

"Hey Finnikins." Sara turned to her left and smiled the sweetest, phoniest, grin she could muster.

"I'm surprised to see you in a place like this." Without even asking, he sat down on the empty stool beside her.

"Meh." Sara answered, hoping a terse reply would get him to go away. Not because she didn't like him; in fact the opposite was true. From the first time she saw him perform in the ring, she was taken by him. It didn't hurt that he was one fine Irish specimen. Even though he had yet to go 'all the way' on camera, his gear left little to the imagination. Sara owned underwear that covered more.

"Don't talk much?"

"Meh." Sara repeated, staring at the bottle in front of her. The joke about rather having a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy suddenly came to mind. "Look, Finn, I'm waiting for someone."

"No problem." Finn got off the stool, heading for the dance floor. "See ya later."

Sara sighed. That had been tough. Especially since he was still wearing his ring gear. She shook her head and watched him through the mirror on the bar back.

Dude is really playing the sex on legs role.

In any other city, Finn would really stand out, but tonight they were in Vegas, baby. She smirked when he was surrounded by two other muscular guys wearing little more than Finn. The 'dancing', which was more like thinly-hidden grinding, began immediately. Much as she tried, she couldn't take her eyes of the spectacle. Fortunately, Finn seemed to be more into his dance partners. Sara sighed again, mentally bitching at herself for not being able to tell Finn how she felt.

Dammit…

Tom had still not shown up and Sara was at the point where she was ready to chug her beer, pay the tab, and then get out of there. She chugged the beer and was just about to signal the bartender when the action on the floor caught her eye again. She blinked twice to make herself believe that she was seeing what she was seeing. Finn was still dancing, but the men he was with had their own ideas. They both had their hands on his waist and were slowly inching his trunks down. Sara felt a tingle in her as the material was pushed lower until Finn's dick popped free. Long and uncut, it was just like she'd imagined.

It was also like the guy in front of him imagined, apparently. He immediately dropped to his knees and took Finn deep, sucking on him until he was rock hard. Surprisingly, this only made Finn dance faster.

Sara couldn't help staring and it was taking all of her self-control to not swivel around and gape at them, which is what pretty much everyone else in that dive bar was doing. The guy behind Finn was also getting in on the action. His crotch was jammed against Finn's ass and only a fool could see what that was going to lead to.

At the point where she didn't care if Tom walked in, she turned around to watch the show. She was becoming more turned on and pissed off at the same time. Turned on by the performance, but pissed off that she wasn't sucking on Finn or fucking him with her own strap-on.

By now, Finn had stopped dancing. He was firmly pressed against the man behind him, who by now had his own dick pressed between Finn's pale cheeks, while thrusting into his other partner's waiting mouth. Sara could tell that Finn was getting close to exploding.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but ignored it. She was intently watching Finn pant loud enough for her, and by extension everyone in the bar, hear. His chest rose and fell faster with each breath and that seemed to encourage the man giving him the blowjob as he also increased his sucking.

C'mon Finny, shoot that fuckin' load… shoot it for me… fuck that should be me… oh God…

To Sara's excitement, the guy did pull off Finn just in time for him to cover his face with his come. Several thick spurts painted his lips, cheeks, nose, and forehead.

Holy fuck that's hot…

"Watch my drink." Sara said to the random barfly beside her. She suddenly felt the need to be alone and ran across the bar to the ladies' room. Running into the closest empty stall, she sat and tried to calm her racing heart. She wasn't having a lot of success with that and even checking the message didn't help. Not that "Running late… be there soon" from Tom would help at all anyway.

Fuck… I'm supposed to be the strong bitch. Why the fuck am I letting Finn get to me? Better yet, why the fuck can't I grow a set and tell him? I'm Sara f'in Calaway, dammit… kick ass, take names, and fuck whoever I want…

The rambling was starting to calm her mind, but her body had other ideas.

I am on the shitter, after all.

Sara stood and slid her tight jeans and panties down to her ankles. Pressing two fingers against her pussy lips, she began to rub herself before she had even sat back down. Replaying Finn in her mind while she fingered herself, she wasn't even aware of her surroundings until one particularly strong wave of passion rushed through her groin and caused her knee to bang against the toilet paper dispenser.

"Fuck!" She shouted; temporarily snapping her back to reality. Ten seconds later, her fingers went back to work. Sara gritted her teeth so she wouldn't attract any more attention. After all, she was in a ladies' toilet in a Vegas dive bar and the girls she'd seen that night did nothing for her. Not that Sara was overly picky when it came to her sexual partners, but still.

Her breathing increased, as did the speed of her fingers. Two of them pressing against her vagina and two more inside her were making her lose what little control she had. Gritting her teeth, she let out a loud hiss of pleasure when she brushed against her clit.

I want you inside me, Finn… c'mon fuckboy…

Sara arched against the cold lid of the toilet seat and that sent her into a spiral of pleasure. It was like every nerve ending inside her body was on fire and the only thing that could put her out was the young Irishman. Her hand went faster and Sara could feel the pressure building.

Another message came in, but Sara completely ignored this one as well. She was at the point where even a gun to her head couldn't stop her. Her ass lifted off the seat and she stifled a cry of ecstasy as she orgasmed and orgasmed hard.

"Oh fuck…" Sara gasped softly, the post-orgasmic rush quickly leaving her. She wiped her fingers off on the zero-ply toilet paper. It was so thin; she bet she could see her face through it if she held it to a mirror. After that, she checked her message. It was from Tom.

You dumping me as well?

Fuck that shit! Sara quickly adjusted her clothing and sprinted from the stall. She paid no attention to the woman at the sinks, or the flushed expression on her face. Let's just say that Sara wasn't the only one who had enjoyed Finn's performance. Sara found Tom sitting in the seat at the bar right next to the one she'd left with two empty beer bottles in front of him. She sat down just in time for the bartender to bring over three more beers; two he put in front of Tom and one for Sara.

They both drank in silence. Sara knew Tom well enough to wait for him to start talking when he was ready. In Tom's world, 'ready' usually mean after the third or fourth beer.

"Is there something wrong with me?" He asked, his voice a little shaky "I mean, is there something fundamentally screwed up with me?"

"I don't think so, Tommy." Sara answered "You're just as fucked up as the rest of us."

"I thought things were going great with Jake." Tom continued "I knew he wasn't happy with the way things were going on RAW, but when he said a clean start, I didn't think it meant I'd get a Dear John E-mail!" Tom attacked the fourth beer and signaled for two more.

"I hope you're not planning to drive home, sir." The bartender said somberly.

"Don't worry." Sara quickly interjected. "I'll take care of my friend. But I'll take another beer as well."

The bartender nodded and filled both drink orders.

"Have you talked to Matt or Jeff recently?"

Tom turned to look at her, the bottle halfway to his mouth.

"Nope." He said

"Maybe you should give them a call?" She suggested

"Wouldn't help." Tom answered "All I'd hear is I told you so."

Sara racked her brain for the right thing to say or do. Tommy had been like a brother to her since the day they met. He'd helped her through so many troubles. Even during Tommy's two year break from wrestling, he'd been more like family to her than her own. Now it was her turn to return the favour, but she just couldn't come up with anything. Until she heard Tommy ask for one more beer for the road.

"You doin' any spots this week?" She asked

Tom shook his head. "Erik gave me two weeks off to get my head together."

"Road trip?" Sara asked

Tom turned his drunken head toward her. "Huh?"

"Road trip." Sara repeated "You, me, a couple of bikes, and the great who the fuck knows where."

Tom studied his reflection in the bar mirror. Staring back at him was someone he didn't recognize. The more he looked, the more Sara's idea appealed to him. Sara must've read the slight change in his expression.

"It's settled. Tomorrow morning we're outta here. I'll talk to the boss about using some vacay time. Fuck, they probably wouldn't miss me even if I didn't talk to them." Sara signaled to the bartender. "Check for my friend, please."

The man brought over their bills. "And if you could call my friend a cab."

The bartender nodded and walked away.

"Get some sleep, Tommy. You really look like shit."

Tom looked at her. "You're telling me."

"I'll talk to my dad in the morning. I'm sure he's got a bike he'd loan me."

At the mention of Sara's father, Tom had a series of weird thoughts go through his mind. Most of them had to do with the incest match versus Matt and Jeff years ago.

"Your cab is here, Sir."

Tom fumbled for his wallet.

"I got it." Sara took a bill from her own pocket and tossed it on the bar. "Keep the change."

"Sara, you don't have to do this." The alcohol was starting to hit Tom.

"We'll settle later. Get home and get some sleep. I'll call you before I come get you."

"Make sure I'm alive?" Tom giggled

"Meh." Sara answered "Alive or dead, you're coming with me."

Sara walked Tom out the door and put him in the waiting taxi. She waved as it left the parking lot. Happy with her good deed, she returned to the bar where she'd left her beer.

While drinking, she saw a familiar face on the floor. Finn was still there, still dancing, and from the sheen on his skin, hadn't stopped since he'd arrived.

Sara drank it down, hoping the booze would give her the courage she needed to go through with it. She walked onto the dance floor and up behind the Irish stud.

"Hey." She said "Come here often?"

Finn turned. "Hey, Sara!" He sounded surprised

"Look, Finny... I want to…" She hesitated; part of her mind telling her this might be a mistake. Finn's smile soon shut that up.

"I'm sorry for being a cunt-waffle earlier." She said

"I saw Tom here… are you and he…?"

"Fuck that noise." Sara replied "No, Jake just broke up with him and he needed a friend for the evening."

"Nice of you."

"We're taking off tomorrow for a little road trip." Sara answered "He needs to get away. We both do, actually."

Finn gave her the People's eyebrow.

"But until then…" She reached down and squeezed Finn's dick. "You're coming home with me."

World records were set for paying a bar bill, finding transportation to a motel, the removal of clothing, and number of combined orgasms for two people in a four hour period. Sara knew she'd be feeling it the next day, but the only thing on her mind now was getting a triple helping of Irish stew.