Title : Room for one more ?

Characters : Most of the Divas, A large chunk of the Smackdown and Raw roster and one or two ECW Extremists

Pairings : Amy/undecided Torrie/Jericho Shelly/Batista Trinity/surprise

Summary : After being alone since Adam and she broke up, Amy decides to get back on the market but her friends try to take her love life into their own hands.

Notes : Amy/Lita is still in the WWE, turning face in late 2006 rather than retiring. Orton ISN'T known for his jackass ways. Jericho's band is much more famous than they really are. Trinity is roughly 29 rather than 35.

Ok, so this fic is basically incorporated around two challenges I found on LJ. One was about annoying blind dates but I took out the whole "Orton Element" and the other was quotes. Enjoy : )

Amy Christine Dumas. A striking and confident red head of thirty two to the outside world. Yet to her, she was merely an ageing wreck who needed her roots done. She sighed loudly, causing Torrie Wilson-Irvine, currently standing beside her, to jump, her mascara wand being forcefully jabbed into her right eye. "Amy," she said, her left hand covering her eye while her right searched for a damp cloth. "I hate to admit it babes, but you need to get laid."

Amy gasped, not sure what to make of her friends statement. Neither Torrie nor Amy was the type of woman to use the term 'get laid'. It was such a vulgar and masculine term and it grated on Amy whenever a female said it. "Excuse me?" She said, baffled as she held out a make up wipe to the blonde, a look of utter disgust etched on the divas pretty features. "And what exactly, gives you reason to think so?"

Dabbing softly at her eye, the blonde looked up to her friend. "Well, I mean, sex makes people happy. Well, it makes me and Chris happy." Amy rolled her eyes as Torrie giggled, much like an excited school girl, a look of sheer innocence on her face. "Anyways, you don't seem very happy so maybe you should just get laid? And I mean, I know you're not exactly happy with your body. But sex would make you feel better about it. Well, if the guy's good. Maybe you should try Orton?" The ditzy diva continued absent mindedly.

"I am not sleeping with him. He's engaged." Amy said, laughing. "And besides, I'm just fine thanks. More than happy." Although, as she said those last three words, the truth couldn't have shown any more in her voice. She was speaking in a slow almost wishful tone. And Torrie, although rather ditzy, picked up on it. Wrapping her slender arm around her friend, she shook her head in a 'you-can't-lie-to-me' gesture, but Amy shrugged it off.

They were getting ready for an awards ceremony. Their award ceremony to be exact. A British newspaper held bi-annual WWE awards and although each year so far, Amy had managed to get out of it, using a more and more elaborate excuse each year, she had been forced to go. She was the favorite to win the award for diva of the year for term one of 2007, although the shy Atlanta-native was definite that she didn't deserve it. And so, after months of preparation, here they stood, doing their own make up, hair and even choosing their own dresses. Not something they were often allowed to do. Amy currently stood before the mirror in her underwear, dreading wearing another dress. The last dress she had worn had been to the WWE Hall of Fame Ceremony in 2005 and Bob Orton had leered at her the whole night. Not something she wanted a repeat of. "You have to start getting ready now," said Torrie, a look of concern on her face as she watched her room mate stare at herself.

"Why am I still here?" whispered Amy, almost hoping that Torrie wouldn't hear her. "I shouldn't still be wrestling. I should have given up when Adam left me."

Upon hearing these words, Torrie looked outraged. Over nine months ago; Adam had unceremoniously broken Amy's heart by leaving her at Stacy Keibler's birthday party for some brunette tart who had appeared in Playboy once upon a time. "No, Amy. You were right to go on. You showed the world you didn't need him. You proved you were better than that. Everyone respects you for that…"

"To hell with respect." Amy said; violently tugging her dress from the hanger on which it was currently hanging. Holding it tightly in her hands, she continued. "I don't want respect. I want a family. Or at least a husband. Hell, even a boyfriend wouldn't go a miss. I just…there's no one out there for me Tor. I assure you." And with this, she pulled her black Dior dress over her head to distract the blonde from her eyes, which now had tears welling around them. She always played the perfect diva. The strong one. She kept all her secrets to herself, not even trusting Torrie or Victoria, her best friends, with them. She dressed as they expected her to. No one ever thought for a moment that maybe she did like fancy dresses or expensive bags. When they went shopping; they'd take her to stores that they assumed she'd like. It was safe to say Amy was very misunderstood.

"Come here," said Torrie, dragging her friend into a warm hug. "You want a boyfriend? We'll find you a boyfriend. And no 2nd rate wrestlers like Adam either. A main eventer. With a big cock."

Amy began to giggle at that. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not sleeping with Randy. He's my friend."

Torrie sighed; "But you'd be happy. Ok; maybe not long term…but I swear to god it would be the best night of your life." The former playboy cover girl shrugged as she reapplied the makeup to her right eye once again, careful not to drop any powdered eye shadow onto her white dress. Pausing as her thoughts finally caught up with her; she turned to face Amy once again, mascara brush pointed at her. "And what's wrong with dating your friends? Chris was my best friend before we dated. And now look at us."

Amy raised a well plucked eyebrow and ran a hand through the red locks framing her face. "Yeah; two break ups, a divorce, two weddings and a brat on the way, that's exactly what I want."

Torrie frowned; almost ready to retort but instead shook her head. "You do want it though. You said so. Now get those Jimmy Choo's on or we'll be late."

Amy laughed slowly slipping her feet into her shoes, before grabbing her bag and racing out the door to keep up with the Boise diva.

Entering the large London hotel was a fiasco in itself. After the relaxing car drive; being chauffeured was always fun; they were thrown out into the cold night air and expected to walk the red carpet into the hotel. Only problem was; although it was summer, it had been raining and the red carpet was soggy and Amy, in rather high heels, sunk into it with each step she took. And that wasn't even mentioning the strange fan who grabbed Torrie's ass and asked her to marry him. But once they were inside; the night seemed to go ok. The large assembly hall which Amy presumed to be the function suite, had been set out in roughly twenty large tables; spread around the room; each with their own seating plan. Hopefully; she thought as she looked for her name, I'll be with decent people. With each table seating twelve; she suspected she would be with at least four of her friends, or at least some of the Raw roster. She didn't like many people from ECW and the Smackdown roster had chosen to believe Adam's crude lies about her.

Spotting her name on the list for table seventeen, she made her way over, leaving Torrie to find her own. She looked around the place names at the table; trying to see who she was sitting with. Ashley Massarro, well that could be a problem, Cherry, again…another Smackdown diva could prove to be a problem and Michelle McCool who Amy had never spoken to were the only other divas sat at her table. Well, Trinity was there, but she refused to be accepted as a diva, saying she was a wrestler instead. This was what had made Amy become friends with her. Looking towards the male names; Amy smiled. Randy Orton and Joey Mercury would be at her table which was always fun. Joey was openly gay and that, quite frankly, terrified Randy, mainly since, not so long ago, he had tried to set Joey and Amy up only to be told; "I'd rather do you sweetheart". But apart from those two; it was the sort of people she would have on a list of "people not to invite", and so with that…she took a long look at the people around her as the hall filled up slowly but surely.

After sitting around for roughly ten minutes; the guests had finally all arrived, well except Melina who had been caught in traffic and would arrive late, no doubt to cause a stir and the champagne was flowing. Leaning back in her seat she looked around as a tall blonde woman with incredibly frizzy hair, wearing what seemed to be a rather elegant eighties party frock sat beside her. She didn't seem too happy to be here. "Hi. I'm Cherry." She said reaching her hand out towards Amy, in a friendly gesture. As Amy shook her hand, Cherry pulled her chair in closer to the table and dropped her voice. "And I just wanted to say, I don't believe a word of what Adam says. You seem to nice for all of that." Amy raised an eyebrow before smiling. Perhaps Cherry wasn't so bad.

"Thanks. And by the way, I love your dress. I didn't think anyone would be able to pull that kind of dress off in 2007 but looks like you can." Amy said, her eyes rolling over the bubblegum pink dress in front of her.

"Thanks. But uh; it's not exactly my first choice. There was a family emergency last night before my flight so I didn't bring ANY of my styling products or the dress that I planned on wearing and I look so trashy compared to everyone. I mean; look at you…Dior, Jimmy Choo…and goodness knows what designer your jewelry came from." She said pointing to the string beads and eclectic chain around the divas neck.

"Jeff Hardy originally sweetie. " She giggled, remembering Jeff's strange fetish for making jewelry when he got high. His form of tweaking was making jewelry, using beads and anything intricate. "But seriously; you look lovely."

"Ashley doesn't seem to think so. Neither does Maryse… Michelle was nice though. I'm rooming with her. She offered to let me use all her products and lotions and potions but…I didn't wanna put anyone out…" Cherry said, now fiddling with the ring on her middle finger.

"That," said Amy loud enough for the whole table to hear. "Is because Miss Massaro is a fucking bitch who needs to realize that she looks like someone's chopped the top off of a condom and sucked her into it. Stupid bitch." Cherry blushed as the newest Playboy model's face contorted in disgust.

Joey, who had so far been deeply in conversation with Kevin Thorn turned to look at Ashley before covering his eyes and saying in an overly feminine voice; "Oh my god! She's fashion road kill."

Amy and Cherry giggled. "You know Joey, right? And Randy? And that's Kevin, Mike and EVERYONE knows Carlito; don't they honey?" Amy introduced each person in turn. Kevin and Mike were pretty new to her; seeing as she had never been on a show with either of them and Carlito? Let's just say Carlito was ok in small doses. "Oh and you know the whores. Sorry Michelle. Trinity. Whore. Non plural."

The Italian diva rolled her eyes at Ashley. The black kohl rims heavy as was the silver eye shadow. Amy smiled. Only Trinity could do something like that to her eyes and not seem slutty. "See how I feel;" she said. "I'm sitting next to her. And, sweetie…go easier on the perfume. I can barely breathe." Pausing she turned to Cherry. "Excuse my name…my parents are Catholic."

Cherry laughed. "Excuse mine…mine are potheads. Or at least; they were when I was born."

As a small man wearing a black suit with rather glittery lapels stood on stage; clearing his throat, the room silenced except for Joey, who found that exact moment perfect for wolf whistling at the man. Winking theatrically at him; the man laughed. "Ladies and Gentlemen. And Cena…welcome to the Daily Star's annual Summer WWE awards. Tonight we're here to praise those of you who have done exceptionally well this year…And shame those of you who have spectacularly embarrassed us."

The room started to laugh and, amongst the noise Trinity made a loud cough which sounded suspiciously like "Trashley."

"And I think to start; we'll have Mr. Cena present the award for Best Female Arse." said the man; known only as Dominic as he stepped down from the stage.

"He means ass right?" asked Cherry; looking confused.

Amy nodded. "He's British. Just, be thankful he's not from Scotland or we'd have to call in the highlanders." A/N : I can poke fun at my OWN nationality. Not anyone else's : )

As John stepped on stage; looking rather out of place in a suit, Randy rolled his eyes. "That guy is such a fucking idiot. Look at him checking out that Page 4 model."

"Page 3." said Amy, whispering close to his ear.

"Same thing." he retorted, being cut off by Trinity.

"Now that my dears; is how a real man should look." She giggled. "Strong. Hot. And knows how to please a woman. The TRUE Italian stallion."

"Down girl;" giggled Michelle, taking a sip from her champagne flute.

"Aight; I just been told who won this and I'm shocked. I mean…whoa, it's always covered up…What's there to love?" John said; an award in one hand, an envelope in the other. "And the winner of the Best Female Arrrse;" he said…pronouncing his R's far too much. "Is Trinity."

Trinity grinned; ran her tonuge along her lips and said; "Wish me luck" as she slowly stood up…going to collect her award, and pulling the cleavage of her dress down much further than was appropriate.

Amy giggled childishly. Maybe it was time she did get back on the market. Afterall; Trinity was single. But she had fun. Maybe fun was a much better idea than steady relationships? She smiled taking a sip of her champagne and leaning back against her chair. And who knows? she though. It could be quite good fun...

Read and Review or there shall be no chapter two : ) SO, if you like it...don't just view...review it too, even if it's anonymous :)