Due to the request of sweetcandyfun, this supposed oneshot will be extended into something special and unique. This story will be a series of FOURTEEN independent but not so independent oneshots. They will all connect, but they can stand alone in some way. Please bear with me on this and please support it. Thanks!

If you like the story, share it with your friends and please review. If I like you, I might just make you a oneshot of your own. :]

"You're a retarded motherfucker, Randy Orton. I told you an hour ago to stop following me." Claire's voice rang through the hallowed streets of Tampa. It was one in the morning and her heels were beginning to kill her feet from the pressure. Surely, she wasn't in the mood to love.

"I'm not following. I'm pursuing. There's a difference." A very arrogant and cocky Randy Orton replied. Since he had met her at Bee's party a few hours ago, his attention had never left her. He didn't have any ring rats to screw around with, so he felt like he had to content himself with what was available. Unluckily, she wasn't the type to easily give.

"Whatever the difference, the fact is that it's not fucking working. You're not making this easier on us." She said, annoyed as she trudged on back to her little flat.

"So, there's a possibility of an us then." He replied with a smirk on his face.

She rolled her eyes and spun around to face him. She glared at him. "You better have a good fucking reason for following me around like the sick dog that you are. If you don't, I fucking swear that I will turn the media on you and you won't have anything left on you resume but a cold hard fuck from a nameless woman." She menacingly said.

It didn't faze him one bit. He cockily retorted, "Bitches like you turn me on, Claire. You just implied that you'd want a cold hard fuck right now. Don't deny that you're not exactly the shy type and you know there's something bubbling here."

"What if there's no shit around here?"

"Then let's make shit and get on with the party." He said before advancing and claiming her eyes with his. There wasn't any romance or lovesick soulful effect in their blue color. His eyes directly said that he was lusting over her.

Pulling her over to the small inn they had stopped in front of, he never lost contact with her eyes. She wasn't breaking away and neither was he losing his catch. They stepped into the lobby as Randy snapped his fingers and immediately received a room key from the attendant. It was either he had planned this attack, or he was a frequent customer around this place.

An elevator ride, a silent walk and five minutes later, they stopped inside a dingy old hotel room. Five-star wasn't a word to suit this place. It was below average and the only thing it had running for it was a good double bed. It was going to come in handy. Randy stepped closer and slipped her black cardigan off her slim body. In a second, he grabbed her hair and pulled her to him in a vicious, fiery kiss.

There was nothing sweet in this scene. There was no romance. It was just a cold hard fuck.

10:19 AM. Randy's watch told him the time like it was rubbing in the fact that he was unable to wake up at a decent hour. Stretching his arms, he realized that he had slept soundly. It wasn't normal. Sure, the eight times they had gone at it within the past eight hours ensured that all his deprivation was satisfied, but he never stayed with the girl throughout the night. He looked to his side and realized that she didn't stay for long either.

Thanks. The note left on the pillow beside him said. It was cold. It was harsh. It was leaving Randy Orton, the Lady Killer, asking himself if he had just been the one played by the player. He woke up asking himself if he had been the one left hanging by some random bump in the night. He didn't like his answer. Yes.

"What the fuck, man! That girl is hell!" Randy screamed at Dave and stomped around his house. "So, she gets up and fucks me like some wild animal then leaves with some stupid note of fucking gratitude? That's not the way it rolls!"

"Orton, you do it to every single girl you bed. What's going up your ass about this one? Love them. Leave them. If she leaves, then let it be. It's less hassle when it comes to dealing with mornings." The older man reasoned.

"You see, that's the problem. Randy Orton loves them then leaves them, but he is never loved and left." Randy said, his ego bursting through the walls. "I don't fucking care who she is, but she doesn't do this to the Legend Killer. I'm gonna bust her ass down."

Dave rolled his eyes and said, "Your ego is killing me, Randy. Look, she left and she even said thanks. Don't bother with the woman anymore. You won't have any strings attached on this one. Leave it be. It was just one night."

"Whatever, Dave, you're not helping the situation." Randy said and walked out of the room. Dave shook his head and ran his hand over his face. That boy never grew up. All he cared about was his ego, his manhood and his one night stands.

Claire was selecting the right camera and lens from her cabinet stands of gadgets when the doorbell, ringing to the tune of Icebox by Omarion, rang loud and clear. I got this icebox where my heart used to be. Oooh. She stepped down from the mini-mezzanine she had in her studio flat and went to open the door. Not expecting the visitor, she spoke, "What the hell is your ass doing at my studio?"

"We've got some shit to talk about." Randy said, his voice was low and calm. His facial expression was blank. "Can I come in?"

She stepped to the side to give him room to come in before shutting the thick steel door behind him. She straightened out her tight fit checkered polo before heading back to the mezzanine. "How'd you find me; what are you doing here; what do you want to talk about and why are you wasting my time are the shit I need to know." She said as she stepped up the stairs.

He followed her suit and watched as she began selecting from a wide range of photography equipment. He said, "I got your pad from the directory. The other night, we were at the hotel. I woke up to some dumbass note. I just wanted to clear things up."

"If you're wondering where I went…" she said as she picked out a Nikon D90. "I had a shoot to get to and I don't fucking allow people to be late. I've got these shit deadlines to meet. It's not exactly that hard to understand."

"I'm not wondering what you were up to. I'm wondering why; why you didn't stay until the morning. I'm pretty sure your models would still be there even after taking the time to wake me up." He said never took his eyes off her. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them.

She spun around and walked to him while screwing a flash onto her camera. She smirked and said, "Stop being such a pussy, Orton. I already know that all you want is a good lay and I gave it to you. It's not like I'm fucking interested in anything more than that. If you came to Tampa looking for your happy ever after, this is the wrong shit to look for it in. You were just another one night."

"I'm not being a pussy. Randy Orton never gets left by a woman in the morning." He said and hardened his glare at her.

"You're saying this fucking trip was just all about your ego?" she said and laughed. "Get over it, Orton. You're not the only player in this game. I don't do mornings either."

He was about to retaliate with a clever punt of his own when her phone rang. It immediately diverted to loudspeaker as the caller was aired on the phone. "Bonjour, mademoiselle, how eez your morning?" the voice said in a freaky French accent.

"It's okay, Gary. I'm just getting ready for another shoot. How about you?" Claire replied nonchalantly.

"I eez mizzing you, bébé. Franz eezn't zee same wizout you."

"I miss you, too, baby." She said simply. Her voice sounded romantic but her face was as blank as it had ever been. "I'll call you up again tonight, Gary. I've got a client over. Au revoir!"

"Au revoir, ma dame juste! Je t'aime!"

"I love you, too." She said simply before ending the call. She looked up from her camera and saw Randy raising his eyebrow at her. Matching his eyebrow with hers, she asked in a snappy voice, "What the hell are you staring at, Orton?"

"You've got a French boyfriend and you screwed around with me. What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, astonished at the fact that there was someone out there who was more heartless that he was. At least he didn't have the audacity to have a girlfriend and he just screwed around every night. "Are you some slut?"

She placed the camera down on the small table and spun around to look at him square in the eye, "I am not a slut. I just believe in things different from others. You were one night, Orton. That won't have much bearing on Gary. I'm going to dump him in one week's time, anyways."

"So, what do you believe in?"

She rolled her eyes and explained, "In my world, Orton, any human possessing a damned Y chromosome and a dick can only be classified into three categories. One: either friend or family member relative shit. Two: the ones you love and leave, such as yourself. Three: the ones you love for about ten fucks then leave, such as Gary."

"Aren't you the type of bitch who always dreams of that prince charming?"

"I don't do feelings of that kind, Orton. And I don't fall into fucking love." She said sharply. "I only do the ones who believe they own the world. In other words, I destroy male egos for a living."

He blinked and couldn't believe what he was hearing. He said, "So, what's that shit supposed to mean for me?"

"That you fell for the Claire." She said as she turned around. "You thought I was hooked, but au contraire, you were just a sad cold fuck, Orton. You were that easy to get. Remember that the next time you decide to hit on some random girl you see on the street."

Randy smirked and replied in an arrogant tone, "I'm not just a love and leave, aren't I? Remember, Claire, you fucked me eight times that night. I guess that brings me to the category where you love for ten fucks then leave. I still have two more to earn."

Clearly, the man wasn't going to back down anytime soon. Fuck love. Let's do this brainwash shit.

"So, what's going on in your lovelife, Shmoo? How's Mr. Frenchy doing?" Bee asked as she stepped into her best friend's flat. She had just come from her publishing house and needed a touch of modern to wake her up. Knowing that Claire was probably one of the coolest techies in Tampa, she headed to the studio flat.

Adjusting the dimmer on the spotlights and strobe lights livening up the room, Claire replied, "Oh, it's just the usual. Gary's all the way in France and I'm enjoying my time here. I'll be dumping his ass when I get there next week anyways. I'm basically back on the fucking menu already."

Bee rolled her eyes and plopped down on the beanbag couch. She said, "Claire, this game you're playing isn't exactly for your own good. I don't want you doing this crap anymore. Why don't you just admit that you're looking for someone who really loves you, huh? It's not fun watching you pretend to love guys."

Claire stepped away from the giant device that controlled the lights and looked at Bee. She wasn't in the mood for another lecture today. "I know this isn't the type of shit you're in. You don't exactly have to like it. I don't want that love you talk about. I'm at the pinnacle of my career and I can take this fucking shit higher. I don't need strings. I can live off fucks." She said bluntly, not knowing that her words had hurt her friend.

"Claire, this isn't a good way of living. These guys might hold it all against you one day." She said.

"The day that Randy Orton realizes that he's capable of killing my reputation, he's gonna be too old of a fuck to even make sense." Claire said and headed to the kitchen to get some drinks.

"You slept with Randy?!" Bee screamed as she stood up and quickly walked towards Claire. "What the hell are you doing not spilling any beans? Come on, tell me! What happened?"

"It was one night, Bee. I hardly think that it mattered that much. He's got too much testosterone in his brain. Imagine, he came to my flat today and even cursed me for leaving him in the morning. What a pussy."

"So, you slept with Randy despite playing that cool play you always do; left him in bed the next morning, and now he's coming after you?" Bee said in shock.

"I thought you were the one who kept telling me that this lifestyle shit isn't good. Why the hell are you so interested now?"

"Randy won't really follow a girl around if she's hard to get. He likes the easy ring rat types. There has to be something between you guys and you're not spilling!"

"Look, all we were both after was just one night of lustful sex. It was good. It was pleasing. It was one night. That's as far as this shit goes. All of his pussy crap doesn't matter." Claire said and handed Bee a glass of orange juice.

She took the glass and took a sip, "Are you sure you don't even like him? Maybe just one bit? What happens to Gary?"

"Gary's yesterday, amiga. I know he sleeps around so why bother keeping this game playing on and on. I don't need him. And I don't like Randy. He's one night. Let it go."

Desperate to find some good frozen yogurt, Claire walked through the streets of Tampa. Her shoots for the past two days stressed her out and she was in dire need of something to relax herself. "Excuse me, miss. I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm really lost and I want to go home now." A small squeaky voice said from behind her.

She spun around to see a little girl barely four feet tall and dressed in a pretty white sundress smudged with dirt. Her blonde locks were falling from the high pigtails and her green eyes were filling up with tears. She spoke, "I'm really sorry, miss. I just really want to go home. I'm lost."

Claire smiled and knelt down in front of the little girl. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind the girl's ear and said, "My name is Claire. Are you lost, honey? What's your name?"

"Lana." The innocent girl said simply.

"Okay, Lana." Claire said and smiled. "I'll help you look for your mommy and daddy. Before that, though, are you hungry? I was about to go get something to eat. Would you like to eat something first?"

The little girl nodded. Claire continued, "Can you walk or would you like me to carry you?"

Little Lana stretched her arms up to Claire indicating that she was tired and she'd rather be carried. Claire picked the little girl up and situated her on her hip. She walked on to find a good place to eat before finally finding a twenty-four hour McDonald's a few blocks down the street. They went in and bought their food.

"I'd one order of spaghetti, medium fries, two regular Cokes and two Hot Fudge Sundaes, please." Claire ordered. Their food and drinks were served up and she paid the bill. Since she was still carrying Lana, one of the waiters helped her carry their food to the nearest table. They sat down and began to eat their dinner.

Lana was gratefully digging into her spaghetti. It was like she hadn't been fed for days. Claire sat back on the chair at ate her own sundae. The little girl was adorable. She was thinking that when this tot grew up, she could possibly have a future in the fashion world; that was if she took care of herself.

"Funny seeing you here." A low male voice said. Claire looked up from her sundae to see Randy Orton dressed unlike his character on television. He was in jeans, sneakers and an Affliction hoodie. "She your kid?"

Claire shook her head no. He asked if he could sit with them and she agreed. He sat down beside the little girl and asked her, "Hey there, little girl. I'm Randy. What's your name?"

"Lana." She said for the second time that night. Her little face was a bit dirtied by the spaghetti sauce but she seemed perfectly fine with it. "The nice miss bought me spaghetti. I'm lost and she's gonna help me find my mommy."

Randy smiled and nodded his head. The little girl went back to eating as he looked at Claire who was eating her own sundae. "Here I was, thinking that all you were was the biggest bitch alive." He said and received a glare from her for using colorful words around a little kid.

"I have a soft spot for kids." She said simply. "There's some sort of innocence about them that's better than any fashion model or mature individual. If my editor allowed me to shoot a children's fashion line, I would do it in a heartbeat."

He smiled and replied, "So, I guess having a kid would be a huge option for you?"

She shook her head no, "I don't want kids right now. I'm happy with my life and I perfectly content with helping out people who need sh— stuff. Like this little kiddo over here. She needs help and I'm willing to give it. Wouldn't you do the same?"

He nodded. "What happens when you finally get married to that perfect man, or so they call that cr—stuff?"

"There are things you deal with when it's there." She said and smiled at him for the first time. "There are times when you can't do anything but deal with the present and hope the future brings something better."

"Miss. I'm done." Lana said and looked up to her with blossoming eyes. After having eaten her ice cream, she was happy and content and she wasn't so frustrated over being lost anymore. Claire chuckled a bit and took a napkin. She wiped the spaghetti sauce and fudge off the kid's face and said, "So, do you want to tell me what happened now?"

Lana nodded and began to speak, "Mommy and I went to the park, but I was a bad girl and I walked away from mommy. I couldn't find her anymore and there were scary people who talked to me. I was running. Then I saw you. You looked nice, miss."

Claire smiled at the little girl's story, "Okay, Lana. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to go to the police station and ask them if your mommy was looking for you, okay? Maybe she went there."

The little girl nodded. Claire turned to Randy and said, "We'll go ahead. Nice meeting you around here, Orton."

"Hey." He said and stopped her. "Maybe I could walk with you guys? It's not exactly safe at this time of the night."

"Yeah, miss. Could the nice man go with us?" little Lana asked. Claire couldn't refuse and simply nodded. Despite her independent nature, she had a tendency to cave in to whatever kids wanted. Standing up and accompanying them outside, Randy felt a small smile creep onto his face.

They walked the few blocks further down the street to the nearest police station. Claire inquired about anyone looking for a missing little girl. Sadly, no one had placed an amber alert for Lana. She gave them the number where she could be contacted and refused to give the little girl to social services. Walking out of the station, the chief policeman gave her a smile and told her to take care of the kid.

"Lana…" Claire began as she walked down the street carrying the little girl. "They don't know where your mommy is. Here's what we're going to do. You can sleep first at my place until they find mommy, okay? Will that be okay with you?"

"But why can't they find mommy? Where's my mommy?" Lana asked and began to cry. Her forehead scrunched up in confusion as tears began to fall down her face. Randy decided to speak up and comfort the girl in Claire's arms.

"Mommy's probably looking for you. We just have to wait for her." He said. "Claire and I are going to take care of you, okay? Don't you worry. We'll find mommy soon."

The little girl nodded but continued to cry. She buried her head into Claire's shoulder and sniffled until she fell asleep. Randy took the liberty of carrying her for Claire as they walked back to her flat. The older woman said thanks before adjusting the bolero she had on. A few minutes later, they reached the building of her studio flat and stepped in. Claire took Lana from Randy and placed her in the bedroom.

"Claire and I are going to take care of you." Claire said as walked back into the living room where Randy stood. "What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Orton?"

"I just said it so she'd feel better." He replied, annoyed. "God, you make it seem like we're actually going through with this shit together. Quit the playing, Claire, I know you've got crap up your sleeve with this. What is this, some publicity shit for your magazine?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "You see, this is why you're the type of dick who's just enough for one night. I suggest you get the fuck out of my flat now and disappear forever before I kick you out myself."

He smirked and replied, "You could kick me onto your bed instead, babe. I'm sure you know your way around the Orton."

Pushing him slightly to the door, she said, "I'm not interested in your second time shit, Orton. You'll just bore me out the second time around. Get the fuck out. Now."

He threw his hands up in defense and walked out on his own. He slid the giant steel door open and stepped out into the hallway. He wasn't able to get two steps from the door when he heard her call, "Orton."

He peeked back into the flat where she was holding the steel door and ready to close it. She continued, "Thanks. I'm sure Lana appreciates it."

He nodded and watched her close the steel door and lock it for the night. He nodded to himself once more and felt proud of how he'd interacted with that little girl. Walking away from the door, he thought to himself. The Legend Killer didn't know what was making him smile like a fool. Was it the game they were playing or something else to play with?

Second oneshot of the fourteen oneshot series. I hope this one sounded okay. I wonder if people are really like this. It's strange but I guess some of the stuff makes sense every now and then. What do you think? Please review!