PART ONE

Trish Stratus made her way backstage, holding on to her jaw in pain as she did so.  Her match had ended a few minutes ago, and even though she had lost, she was glad it was over.  Not that she wasn't disappointed… she had had her mind set on going out there and winning the Women's Championship from Jazz in the Fatal Fourway Match with Jacqueline and Victoria.  Trish pressed her index and middle finger to her lip, examining the blood that quickly formed there.  She winced as she brushed her fingers off on her shirt, making her way to the trainers' room.  She was definitely going to have to get that looked at.  Trish frowned as she thought back to the match… while she was in the ring, she went for a Stratusfaction on Victoria, what she thought was going to help her capture the title.  However, Victoria managed to push her just over the top rope, causing her to fall the floor below, crashing down hard right on her face.  The fall immediately had drawn blood, and it hurt like a bitch.  Ugh… she was just so mad at the moment… mad at herself for not winning the match, mad at Victoria for dropping her to the floor, mad at the fact that her lip her so damn bad.

"Yo, check this out," a male voice called from behind Trish.  She turned around, groaning as she matched the voice with a face.  She looked up, meeting the blue eyes of John Cena, who was standing with Rodney Mack.  Trish shook her head, ignoring him and continuing on down the hall.

"Where you going baby?" he called again, causing her to stop in her tracks.  Normally, she wouldn't have given a second glance to Cena's cat call, but she was in a foul mood.  She didn't feel like putting up with him, and she wasn't going to take his crap.

John Cena had been nothing but an ass to her since he arrived in WWE.  Actually, the first time they'd met, he had been very cordial and almost shy.  Soon after that, however, he turned into a jerk… he was *constantly* hitting on her when she was the Women's Champion and was able to be on Smackdown.  In fact, every single time she appeared on Stephanie McMahon's show as the Champion, John would approach her and start dropping tasteless one liners on her… the kind that made her want to throw a glass of water in his face for even *thinking* what he said.  Trish was relieved when the Women's Championship became closed to Raw only, because that meant she would only have to see Cena, and put up with his crap, once a month.  Now, she considered herself even more lucky, as Judgment Day was the last combined pay-per-view before those shows too became split – now she would only have to put up with John once every two months.

"Excuse me?" Trish asked, placing her hands on her hips.  "I don't think I heard you right, because I *know* you didn't just call me baby."  Rodney and John exchanged glances before John turned back to the Canadian diva and sent her a cocky smirk.

"Chill honey, I was just trying to get you to come over here and say hello.  You hardly ever talk to me anymore," he explained, taking a step in her direction.  Trish took a step back, scowling at him.

 "I never talked to you in the first place… and I don't plan on starting anytime soon," she said flatly.

 "Oh, she told you John… you best back away from the woman while you still got a chance," Rodney cut in, laughing as John turned and punched him jokingly in the stomach.  Trish rolled her eyes as the two began play fighting in the middle of the hallway… men *really* could be boys sometimes.

 "Oh come on Trish, you know you want me.  Everyone does.  You can't honestly say that you don't want this," he said cockily, lifting up his baseball jersey to show off his abs.  Trish raised an eyebrow, walking over to him and eyeing him curiously.  She decided that maybe, since she was in such a rotten mood, that she would have fun playing with them.  She her index finger down his abdomen enticingly, looking up into his eyes as she did so.  She leaned up to his ear, whispering in a very low tone.

 "I can honestly say John… that there is no way in *hell* I would ever want you."

 With that said, she turned and stormed away, leaving John to stand there, gaping at her.  His eyes narrowed at her… he couldn't believe she had just done that.  Who leads a guy on, only to tell him she wants nothing to do with him.  That Stratus girl was nothing but a spoiled little bitch.  As Trish darted down the hall in a huff, she was thinking the same thing about Cena.  iWhat a creep.  He actually *thinks* his lame pick up lines will actually work on women.  He's such a dumbass,/i she thought bitterly.  He honestly thought that he could pick up women by being the 'Doctor of Thuganomics.'  Please… the man was so white it wasn't funny.

 Trish thought of how Vince approached the Superstars recently with the idea of splitting the pay-per-views.  At first she didn't like the idea… sure, it would give Superstars from each show more of a chance to showcase their talent, but it also meant that she would never get to see her friends from Smackdown.  The more that she thought about it though, this whole split pay-per-view thing was going to be great for her.  Anything that would get her away from that creep John Cena was fine by her.  She glanced over her shoulder as she turned a corner, noticing that John was still standing there, shaking his head at Rodney.  A small smile crept on her face as she disappeared around the corner.  Considering that that was the last time she'd be seeing John for about two months, she was definitely satisfied to have gotten the last laugh.  The look on his face when she told him there was no way in hell she would want him was priceless.  He looked as though he'd been slapped in the face.  iWhat a way to say goodbye,/i she thought.  For once, she found herself thinking something she *never* in a million years would have guessed she'd be thinking…

Thank God for Vince McMahon.

Should I continue?