A/N: Like I say every time, I have like six chapters of this written. Do I find the time to update? Of course not. I apologize.
It was just like Jericho to pick the seediest fucking bar in town. St. Petersburg didn't exactly have a reputation for being classy (although everything in Florida could be considered retirement country) (Adam's really fucking old) but I mean, fuck, Chris just had a gift for choosing a place that didn't believe in lighting or second hand smoke. I could barely breathe in there, and I smoke a pack a day.
But there we were, just like old times, the four of us, with a new friend that actually fit in with... our species. Sunny had adjusted so fucking well, I couldn't even believe it. And not only that, but she just made everything so much... brighter (har, har!)
Which would've been nice. Since I might've been touching Jay's hand for all I knew. Though it didn't feel that hairy...
He was still mad at me. I could tell, even in the dark.
"Listen, I know you're still pissed, but at least tell me I'm not holding Jay's hand right now."
No answer, but the hand moved away.
Must've been his.
"Kaitlyn, where are you?" Jay's nose touched my ear. "Is that you?"
"Oh! Sorry." His hand was on my leg. "Kait?"
"Jay. Try turning around. I will not be Kaitlyn, no matter which body part you touch."
"I can't see anything."
"Well, fucking blame Jericho." I could've had someone else's drink for all I knew, or cared.
A warm, large hand touched my neck.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Jay—"
I stiffened. "I know that voice."
And then Kaitlyn was in my lap, and then she wasn't, and then Jay was there, struggling to go after her.
I glanced up at him (I think). "What the fuck are you doing here? Jay, get off."
Jay shifted, sliding down next to me. His side hit mine and my leg went numb for a second.
Randy pushed me over, taking my seat so I was smashed between his monster thigh and Jay's sharp fucking hip bone. "I drove down from Tallahassee."
Sunny perked up. "Is Ted with you?"
"He's out in the car. Doing... something."
"Something Jericho would do or something special for me?"
Kaitlyn was right next to me. She must've been sitting on Randy's lap. "I really fucking love this girl."
"I do, too." Now I had someone else's drink. It definitely wasn't a Molson. It smelled like pomegranate and fucking low grade Vodka. "Where's Jericho? I think I took his drink."
"Where the fuck is Adam?"
It was silent for a moment (as silent as a bar can be).
Kaitlyn shifted, hitting my arm. "Why the fuck aren't you talking? No wait, better question is, why the fuck aren't you two banging?"
And then it was just awkward.
Randy cleared his throat. "Babe, come have a cigarette with me."
Jay jerked, turning his head so fast that his nose banged into my ear. "Don't call my girlfriend babe—"
"Not Kaitlyn, you dumbass. I was talking to Mack. 'Course, Kaitlyn's invited too, since she's attached to my lap—"
Jay leaned against me hard. "Kaitlyn, you get off his lap right now!"
"Better rephrase that, Jason."
I could hear his face get red. "Kaitlyn, I'm not joking. If you sit on anyone's lap, it's mine!"
Kaitlyn sighed. "All right. Just don't get any spray tan on me."
There was some shifting, and Kaitlyn was sitting on me again, then it was just her legs. But Randy was pulling me by the arm anyway, and finally, finally, we were outside.
"It's brighter out here than it is in there." I covered my eyes for a second, blinking. I wish I'd brought my jacket. "And it's colder, too."
"I thought Florida was supposed to be hot." He was talking around the cigarette in his mouth, searching his pockets for a lighter. "So far, I'm fucking disappointed."
"It's usually nicer than this." I rubbed my arms, glancing up at him. "Give me a cigarette, asshole."
"You have your own."
"So? I'm a lady."
He snorted, face yellow from the zippo. He held the flame out to me. "I'm not waiting much longer, hurry up."
I rolled my eyes and patted my jeans for my cigarettes.
"Oh, for Christ's sake." Randy took one drag of his before he put it in my mouth.
I grimaced at the spit on it, but inhaled anyway, burning away the flavors on my tongue. "You fuckin' slobbered all over this."
"So, we made out, big deal. Not like it hasn't happened—"
"Hey! Don't talk about that here, a fan will overhear you and say that I'm cheating on Adam."
"Well, wouldn't that be ironic?" He grinned like a fucking dick as he put his cigarette between his teeth, winking at me. "How was his match?"
I didn't need to tell him. He knew, he was just being a jerk-off. "Oh, just peachy. By the way, thanks for saving me in there."
"I can read people well," he said distractedly, looking out at the street. "It was awkward for me to be sitting at that table, so I figured you were in just as much pain as I was."
"Maybe more." I shivered slightly. "God, he's a fucking asshole."
I glared up at his nonchalant face, his casual stance. But he never stopped being a model, the fucking prat, standing in the light coming from the street lamp, hand in one pocket, gazing out so pensively with his cigarette near his mouth.
"Who do you think?" I snarled.
"No—Well, him, too, but—"
"Wow." He flicked some ash away. "What'd you fight about?"
Randy flitted his hand slightly. "Figures."
There was the other model coming toward us now, the epitome of good ol' southern living. Ted grimaced at the smoke surrounding our heads, but he stopped to give me a hug anyway, and to awkwardly acknowledge Randy.
Sometimes, they really did act like they were fucking.
But Ted, the adorable Southern boy, had a little bear for Sunny in his hand. "Sunny inside?"
"Yeah." I raised my eyebrows at the toy. "Could his name be Teddy?"
His cheeks went slightly pink (like that was any different from the norm). "Sunny can name it whatever she wants."
"Whipped," Randy yawned.
"I am not!"
I laughed. "You sound so fucking southern when you get defensive."
"You're a lady, don't talk like a sailor."
Ted just rolled his eyes. "I'll see you guys inside."
"Maybe." Randy looked at him over his shoulder. "Try to use your skills and make Adam get over his little snit he has against Mack."
I nodded. "He's being a little bitch."
Ted glared at me. "Don't swear! But sure, I will."
"Take them demons out, Theodore! Amen, amen, I say to you!"
Randy turned his head toward me, smiling. "You're such a dick to everyone."
"It's part of my charm, obviously."
Randy lifted his gaze over my shoulder, and he broke out into an even bigger grin. "Hey, man. How's it going?"
I tried to give Randy "the eyes" (you know, the ones that say WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?) but he just walked past me, bumping my shoulder.
"What are you doing here?"
"I drove down to see everyone." Randy snagged my wrist from behind, whirling me around. He put his arm around my shoulders. "I love hanging out with this one."
John was just... God, I can't even fucking describe him. His eyes were always so much more intense than his facial expression was. And even though he was smiling softly, his eyes were fucking dark as hell. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. But she makes me hang out with Chris, and that's just uncomfortable."
"Because of that one time—?"
"Let's not talk about that."
I glanced up at Randy. Or tried to, since his big fucking arm practically had me buried against his leather jacket. "What time?"
"Don't worry about it."
I looked to John without meaning to, and he was just watching me. Not with love or hate or anything just... carefully. I went back to Randy quickly. "Did you and Chris kiss?"
And John started laughing.
"No! There was just this one time Chris came into work really stoned and tried to... touch... my thighs."
I bit my lip, pushing my face into his side. I could smell his cologne even through his coat.
John was laughing even harder.
And for all you little school girls out there, that think John Morrison is like, a total babe, he has a dork laugh. No joke. Hope that didn't crush any of your dreams.
So I ended up glaring at him. "Nice shiner."
He slowly stopped laughing. "You, too."
I touched my eye. "The swelling's going down."
"Shiner?" Randy turned my face up, nearly singing me with his cigarette. He frowned. "How'd that happen? I thought John and Adam got into a fight."
"I tried to stop it." I motioned to John. "Mojo Risin over there fucking popped my face in."
"I didn't mean to," he said on a sigh, like he always did whenever he talked to me. Like he was tired of arguing. Like he didn't want to waste his breath.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."
And then we were silent for a moment, just everyone staring at inconspicuous objects so we didn't have to make eye contact.
"I was just heading inside," John started slowly. "You wanna come?"
I grimaced slightly. He better not have been talking to me.
"Yeah, sure." Randy looked down at me, flicking his end into the street. "Ready?"
I glanced over my shoulder and Randy's arm, and there he was, my knight in shining leather.
He didn't look mad anymore. He looked... hot.
Adam glared at Randy and completely ignored John. "We're going back home."
"To meet Alice Cooper." He grabbed my elbow, jerking me out of Randy's safe haven. "Let's go."
He was tugging me into the street, and I was going to yell to Randy, but he was already following John inside.
"Kaitlyn and Ted got me so fucking worked up," Adam hissed.
"What are you talking—"
He kissed me hard, on the mouth. "I'm still fucking mad."
He kissed me again, longer this time, right there in the street. "But not at you. Just... at everything."
I grinned stupidly. "Oh, man, meeting Alice Cooper is gonna be fuckin' amazing tonight."
A/N: Well... so much for angsty endings! Review.