Wrestling 1. The Coffee Rebellion

Disclaimer: Everything in this franchise belongs to Vince McMahon and he gets my money every time Raw or Smackdown visits my city.

**The Coffee Rebellion**

* * *

"5 regular, 2 decaf, 5 sugar, 6 cream" a soft spoken voice rattled on like a recorder stuck on repeat as she scuttled down the hallway of the Hilton where RAW superstars were temporarily residing. Several wrestlers were outside in one of the reserved halls that could've fit a banquet or a wedding itself to meet and greet fans until from 11 in the morning to 1 p.m. and boy, was there a crowd.

Samantha had been working with this brand for four months after nabbing a job with her degree in communications to understand the fundamentals of working in such a dominant environment that was known worldwide. She wanted to use this as a stepping stone to working with studios or news stations but so far, she played assistant to an _assistant _while dealing with menial tasks regarding the franchise. So much for learning the ropes of television production but at least she learned how to make a decent cup of coffee and learned the quirks of the wrestlers and divas. Fans would've given an arm and a leg to be part of the glamour (even though she remained hidden from cameras altogether like other employees) so she considered herself lucky.

So here she was, in a black pencil skirt and an iron pressed blouse in periwinkle that screamed professionalism but she might as well have worn a tag that said 'Coffee Maid'. She waited in the adjoined kitchen of the hall as the coffeemaker dripped away in the empty large room. Luckily, the decaf pot was half full so the writers that ordered it would be sufficed. Still, the large but vacant room void of caterers gave an eerie feel.

_Hmm, I shouldn't have watched The Shining at night yesterday, the last thing I need-_

"Sam?"

"Don't Redrum me!" she squealed in surprise and turned around to see Matthew or as the fans knew him, the uprising superstar 'Evan Bourne'. Her hand went over her beating heart as he stood in the middle of the doorway with an amused expression and Samantha sighed in relief, "Oh, it's just you. I must be getting sleep deprived to think a murderer's coming at me from behind."

He flashed her a witty grin as she fought back an embarrassed blush and teased, "Stranger things have happened."

"Ugh, the last thing we need is a storyline with a crazy wrestler 'hunting' down each of you" she scoffed sarcastically to the soap opera themes the writers gave the show sometimes but brightened up to grab a few markers out of the pocket of her skirt. Matthew had a tendency to run out of markers at every appearance but she always kept a few on hand for the amicable man. Smiling pleasantly, she pointed out, "I had an inkling you'd be coming by with all the fans gathered at your table. You gotta tell your manager to carry boxes of this, Matt."

He grabbed them gratefully since waiting on the elevator would just waste time for the fans and handed her a dollar. She laughed to the gift and held the bill out for him to take back but he wagged a finger to jest, "Coffee maids need the most tips."

Samantha was about to point out that the markers came from the company but Matthew bolted through the doorway with an echoing 'thanks' as he headed back into the occupied hall. Silence ensued in the kitchen and she sighed at the lonely company of sinks and cabinets, oh what fun. Daring herself to let the coffee pot finish on its own, she wandered to the doorway leading into the jam-packed hall. Gray eyes shifted to the sides like a spy from the classic films but everything was empty in sight in the hallway so she dropped the stealth act. Meh, it was fun while it lasted.

Her small heels made no noise as she made the small cross through the hallway and wasn't surprised by the crowds surrounding five of the wrestlers. The divas would have a meet and greet in another place tomorrow but someone else would oversee it. She usually stayed in events at the hotel for the franchise since her boss took care of all of the arrangements herself while Samantha did the crappy tasks. For the past two weeks, however, she'd been entrusted to make sure everything went smoothly and was running back and forth to keep everyone happy. Unfortunately, they were in the central hub of the writers in Stamford so of course, she had to cater for them while they remained there. She couldn't wait to leave for Rome tomorrow and bite the dust on this place. Even sightseeing had been a no for her.

_Is it possible to have an assistant for an assistant's assistant?_, she pondered miserably as she watched the crowds move like the sea all over the place and scooted to the left when John Cena passed her by to head into the kitchen. There was no catering today but water bottles and coffee was in stock so that was all they were getting since their hotel rooms were upstairs.

A group of nine year-old kids tried to be sly and pass by her since security was at the front for the moment but Samantha cut them off at the doorway with a shake of her head, "Sorry, kiddos, only hotel guests and staff beyond this point."

"But we want to see Cena!" a little boy decked in 'Cena' fashion attire insisted with a frown but Samantha sighed at the legions of fans that adored the man. Her younger brothers back home counted as part of the masses as well. Honestly, give the man five minutes and his charisma would have you doing just about anything.

She tried to coax the little rascals back into the reception area with a sweet voice, "He'll be back soon. Why don't you meet the Viper or-"

"I want to see Cena, I want to see Cena-" the lead boy yelled and kicked her right on the left shin without warning.

"Ow!" she yelped in pain to the tantrum attack and grabbed her kneecap as it throbbed to the abrupt kick. Who the hell let their kids kick people with _steel toed_ shoes? That was definitely going to leave a bruise and she hated wearing stockings to cover up discoloration! Samantha gave the little kid a glare as she massaged her abused shin and hoped opening her mouth wouldn't give her a matching bruise on the other leg.

Before either party could speak, the popular wrestler was back in the hallway with a water bottle in hand and fought back laughter as he saw the dark-haired woman holding her knee cap against a group of kids. She gave him a 'would you mind?' stare and darted her eyes towards the eager but shin kicking fans that held bright gleams in their eyes as they stared at their idol. He spoke up with a lecturing but jolly tone towards them, "Now, kids, you know never to hit girls regardless of how old they are. Ms. Mora was just doing her job and we can't get in the way of that, can we?"

_Leave it to John to herd the masses like a shepherd_, Samantha thought amusingly as she bit her bottom lip to prevent a groan of pain from escaping her mouth and massaged the lump forming on her knee. _Great, now I have a limp. Can this day get any worse?_

The three kids beamed at their wrestling hero as he wrapped his arms around them to pacify their annoyance with Samantha and John nodded to each in persuasion, "Now, we will apologize to the nice lady and head over to the tables so I can sign each of you a poster? How's that sound?"

Samantha gripped the doorway in shock as they went from angry to joyful in seconds and a loud ramble of apologies were heard from each before they dragged the wrestler back to the front. Huh, strong little tykes. She shook her head to the short-term memory of youngsters and wished she had the charisma of that man to sway conversations. Back on the job again, she waddled back to the kitchen with a bruised kneecap to finish her task and praised silently when the pot of coffee was finished so she could return to being beckoned like a bellhop. She'd much rather go back to working with her department regarding the operations of the show instead of learning nothing from the writers; it just wasn't her field.

Setting each of the styrofoam cups on a plastic tray, she smiled to herself to keep her confidence going and cringed when she heard her name called down the hallway. While the appearances went on in the hall, the writing team had stationed themselves in a conference room to work on the newest storylines. Ugh, she couldn't wait to board that plane and head out to the next city where it was writer-free. Grumbling under her breath, she grabbed the tray swiftly and turned around to slam directly into a wall of muscle. Coffee scalded her hands but the other party suffered the entire contents and she cried out in horror when she stared up at Stephen Farrelly. If she didn't feel tiny at her height of 5'4 before, she sure felt like David and Goliath right now.

"Oh my god, I burned you! This is horrible!" she blurted with fright, gray eyes widening to their full extent and Samantha dumped the tray into the nearest sink as she tried to grab a towel nearby to dab at his black t-shirt. The redheaded man could only wince at the burning liquid dripping down his shirt as it singed his porcelain flesh and watched the woman scramble for whatever she was looking for. Her hands opened metal cabinets in the hopes of cloth or paper towels but only found pots and pans causing her to sigh in aggravation. How the hell does a kitchen _not _have towels?

_I'm probably looking at assault charges here!_, she thought frantically and kicked a low cabinet shut with the heel of her black shoe.

Gathering her wits, she ordered the man without looking back, "Take the shirt off before you singe your skin further, we need to find a towel or honey or-"

"Samantha-"

"Aloe vera or ketchup. . .why are there _no _towels? Arrgh-"

"Ice pack, Samantha?" he cut in to keep her from having a mental breakdown since she seemed jumpy the second he entered the kitchen and she halted in her hasty actions. The shirt was easy to discard but he frowned as a red blotch formed in the center of his chest and Stephen touched it to test its sensitivity. Not bad.

Samantha grabbed the balled up shirt from his hands to bat his hands away and reprimanded worriedly, "No, Stephen! You'll traumatize the burnt area even worse-"

"Ms. Mora!," called one of the assistants to the writers who haggled her as their own lap dog.

Oh heaven almighty, she was tired of these people and having this problem on her hands wasn't making it better. Stephen was nice whereas these butt holes were breaking the last straw of sanity she had left. She gave the Irishman a polite smile with an eerily calm 'excuse me' before walking to the open doorway and yelling back heatedly, "Get your boss his own damn coffee, I'm not in your department! As a matter of fact, do your own stuff from now on because I'm not on your payroll."

The man started to snap back but she just waved him off with a 'screw you!' and walked back inside as she muttered under her breath, "No jodás."

Adding in a few cuss words (she felt comfortable cursing in Spanish rather than English) to dissipate her anger, she scuttled back to the wrestler that was due out there and focused on his problem. Her worrywart nature on keeping everybody on the roster (she took random groups while other assistants got the rest to gain experience) won out in uncertain situations and she tapped her round chin to point out, "We're going to the on call doctor."

"Isn't that a lil' overboard?" Stephen asked skeptically and pretty much wanted an ice pack to be done with it. As long as nobody hit him square in the chest, it was easily forgotten about.

Her face relaxed in agreement and he thought he'd be free to go change when she piped up with something completely different, "You're right. You're going in my hotel room!"

"Wait. _What?_"

* * *

"Sam, Ah'm fine."

That's what all the Sheamus fans heard when they saw the tall wrestler shooing away the small woman handing him first aid items after he'd switched shirts and gotten _proper _burn treatment outside her room. Ten minutes later, he was trying to assure her he was fine while wondering why his manager wasn't there to tell her she could go on about her business.

"Do you have the antibiotic? Contract wrestlers can't work with injuries" Samantha grilled expectantly as she crossed her arms and with her black hair pulled back in a bun, she resembled the old and strict private schoolmasters. He gave her a stiff nod and she backed off, waving him off with a pleased smile, "Remember my kindness when I get sacked."

"Yer not gettin' sacked" he stated simply since most of the roster knew the friendly woman as she worked backstage and on the road to keep everything running smooth. Hennigan and James went to her every time something was wrong with their lodgings or show time problems and she had them fixed within minutes.

She gave him another wave of the hand before heading back into the shadows of the hallway and brushed back any tendrils of black hair that slipped from the tightly bound bun. Her day had already gone to hell since it started and knew there would be retribution for her refusal to listen to the writing department. She liked working with the wrestlers, they were really interesting people, and frowned at possibly having to search through a newspaper for job postings.

"I can see myself watching soap operas and eating cheetos already" she groaned miserably to the horrible prospect of being jobless and kicked at the floor with her bad leg, causing pain to shoot up her femur bone. Jiggling her leg to shake it off, she hissed irritably, "Son of a-"

Her cell rang and she unclipped it from the waistline of her skirt to glimpse at the number. Monkeys in a barrel, it was her boss.

Double dang.

Taking a deep breath, she answered with a happy polite tone, "Sam here."

Tamara Wilkins, aka Boss Lady, quickly went into business without a greeting, "Sam, you're going to have to be on your own from now on. Medical issues came up so I'm taking maternity leave earlier than I thought but from what I hear, you're doing fine so Hagen wants me to promote you with my job."

She was floored with the sudden news since she expected to get her ear yelled off for mouthing off to the other department and getting the boot but luck was on her side. Was she finally catching a break after busting her hump with menial tasks? Her lips gaped in disbelief and she faltered in voice, "A promotion? You're giving _me _a _promotion_?"

"I don't repeat myself, Mora, so it either you or someone else and the company doesn't waste time" Tamara pointed out flatly and Samantha bit her lip nervously before agreeing to the proposition. "Good, you're already known with the RAW wrestlers and their teams so this change won't be new to them. This is your chance so don't screw it up."

"So I'm _not _getting fired?" she asked skeptically once more to make sure this wasn't a mental hallucination from overworking. Seriously, the company made you jump over hot coals to keep working and she was barely an assistant. Just a few more months and secure paychecks would give her enough to put in applications at the news stations to nab a permanent position.

"No, Mora, you're answering to Hagen directly so pick up the reins because I'm not sure I'll be heading back to the job so stay sharp."

That took her aback since jobs were never a spur of the moment thing (unless you counted talent agents) and she stammered, "W-Why?"

"Kids focus in your priorities and being on the road isn't the best environment so good luck, Sam" she replied simply and hung up before the younger woman could put in another word.

Samantha's legs practically melted into jello at the relief of keeping her job but also getting a raise. Maybe life _was _turning up for the better. She grinned wildly and declared happily, "I can finally drop the second 'assistant' on my résumé!"

Prickles of excitement shot through her spine and she headed down the hall towards the elevators in the lobby. She could finally tell the other departments to shove it and talk to her boss which was great because being walked over by them tended to suck the light out of your spirit. It was fine when it was during show time because that was the highlight of the company but not when it was for unimportant tasks. Hmm, could she get herself an assistant?

_One step at a time, now run home- er, hotel room and call room service for a sundae!_, she thought herself giddily and pulled back the sleeves of her blouse to cover up the coffee stains.

With the mood of celebration in mind, she grabbed Mike as he came straight out of the elevator to swing him around as if they were playing ring around the rosie. He gave her a puzzled glance for the peppy behavior and curiously asked, "What are we spinning for?"

"Do we really need a reason to spin?"

"Nah."

With that, the two spun without a care while people in the lobby stared awkwardly but come on, this was the WWE and stranger things _have _happened.

* * *

A/N: A humor filled fic with RAW superstars because life is never dull and subtle fluff in later chapters. Join poor Samantha next time as the job doesn't turn out to be so glamorous, Mike becomes a steed, Mickie tries to play matchmaker, and Morrison reveals his secret of baby soft skin.


	2. Mickie, The Matchmaking Mouse

**Mickie, The Matchmaking Mouse**

* * *

Samantha currently searched on her laptop to check up on how operations for the show in Rome were going since Hagen wasted no time in calling to order her to do so and when the man called, it would be done exactly to the point. Everything would be forwarded to him in email before she proceeded to check on the hotels in the itinerary to see the distance from the airport and the event location. She couldn't wait to help behind the scenes during taping since that's what she yearned to see most of all rather than play travel planner. On the other hand, it was nice to travel and be on the road with the wrestlers whom always changed in groups depending on her schedule. Her current group that would head to Rome first would include Nattie, TJ, David, John C., Randy, Ted, Matthew, Stephen, and Mike, along with their teams. Ted was already a handful by himself but hopefully he wouldn't suck in the other men like a black hole to partake in his airplane pranks.

A knock on the door interrupted the clacking of keyboard keys and she called out absentmindedly, "It's unlocked!"

She heard the door click open and shut seconds later as two sets of feet scampered over the maroon carpeting before landing in the bed with a muffled thud where Samantha sat. The Latina woman fell down on the bed to stare up at Mickie and Gail who held uniform grins of happiness and a little mischief in their eyes. She chatted with the two women constantly off the job and gave them a friendly smile from her upside down position, "Hey, ladies."

"We heard you made assistant" Gail tattled playfully and placed her fingers over her nude lipsticked mouth as if she'd revealed a huge secret while Samantha sat up to grab her computer before it fell off the bed. If she broke that, she'd have to buy another at full price quickly and the hassle of transferring everything into another computer wasn't a fun way to spend the day. That, and it would push her behind schedule in work.

She held the computer to her chest protectively but was surprised at how quickly they knew since she'd barely told Mike after their unscheduled spin next to the elevator. Other than that, she'd been mum about it. A little elated that someone cared to pass on the news, she smiled cheerfully, "Wow, news spreads fast."

Mickie laughed at her peppy expression before informing in business mode, "Managers called to keep us up to date so expect calls from them. Seriously, Sam, you ever consider being an agent for a wrestler? You practically do it already and running around to check the set just adds in experience."

"Nah, I'm more liable to be fired or get somebody in trouble" she dismissed offhandedly as she shut her computer off to shove it under her pillow and noticed there was somebody missing from her usual visitors.

"Where's Nattie?"

"Rolling down the highway and cruising for adventure" Gail mimicked the popular car commercial before shaking it off her shoulders after watching too much television last night and having a little too much to drink. Who knows how many subliminal messages got into her brain while she slept. She curled a dark tendril of hair with her index finger and answered with a grin, "Getting her hair done for a date tonight with TJ."

"Speaking of lovers-" Mickie brought up with a Cheshire smile that had Samantha blushing like a tomato in modesty and clearing her throat abruptly to end the subject. Oh, why couldn't Mickie drop it already?

_I should've kept my mouth shut_, Samantha thought miserably in regards to three weeks ago during a club outing when she'd told the light brunette her secret.

"Did I tell you I got beat by a child today?" she tried to intervene with a nervous chuckle but the two women weren't buying it for a second. They wanted updates and they were going to get them. Clenching her fists, Samantha shook them over her lap to groan in a mix of complaint and embarrassment, "Oh! I _never _should've said anything."

Samantha pouted at the navy bedcover below as she chastised herself for ever admitting to the two women that she found someone on the roster attractive. Now, Mickie brought it upon herself to put the two together despite continuous refusal as Samantha would scuttle out of the room faster than she could catch her. For someone who was the same height, she really could disappear in a second. Mickie was beginning to think that bringing aboard someone with longer legs to nab the petite woman was a great idea. Probably Maryse or Eve would do.

Mickie turned to Gail and shared her recent gossip on the matter, "I _finally _saw her talking to him for more than ten minutes without running off to 'work' and almost broke the floorboards with all my happy jumping."

"That was you? I thought people were humping madly against the walls somewhere" Samantha joked to the thumping she'd heard earlier and never would've thought that it was Mickie of all people spying on her. Again. The older brunette smacked her on the shoulder for the jab but it only made her grin in satisfaction as Gail laughed at the idea since certain walls could be paper thin. Nowadays, she carried ear plugs for such unpleasant occurrences.

"I still say go for someone younger" the Asian wrestler added in nonchalantly with an innocent smile and Samantha dug her face into her hands in dismay for all the drama they were putting into this one sided attraction that only they (and Nattie) knew about.

"Oh sure, when it's me, you're all 'oh noes' but when Celine Dion does it, it's okay!" she shot back while fighting the giggles at the comparison and wagged a finger at Gail before she could put in a word edgewise, "He's only seven years older, Gail, it's not like I'm fifteen and he's forty. That would have my dad brandishing a shotgun. . .if he knew where I was, that is."

"Ahem!" Mickie cleared her throat loudly to bring them back to the point at hand and Samantha frowned for almost getting away from a scheme that her friend always came up with. Thankfully, most backfired and her little secret remained hidden. The assistant's cheeks could only redden in bashfulness as the brunette tattled excitedly to the other wrestler, "So the two of them were talking and get this, Gail, he was _shirtless_."

Gail chuckled excitedly at the news while Mickie poked the silent woman in the ribs to probe eagerly, "So, c'mon, tell me what you did. Was it the come hither look?"

With that, the brunette gave a sultry glance that would make most men melt into pools of water at her feet but switched her act to a damsel in distress type. Holding out her hand for aid, she placed the back of the other over her forehead and declared dramatically like a southern belle, "Or the old 'I lost my purse' routine? Oh, help me, kind Irishman."

Samantha was sure a blood vessel burst at this point from all the heat on her face and grabbed a pillow to stuff her face into to calm her mortified feelings. True, they were in the private solitude of her hotel room but romance always plastered a blush on her face regardless of her age. Mickie got on all fours on the bed to grin wildly at the two, "Or was it the straight out 'come to mama' pounce?"

"I scalded the man because apparently, Cosmo says that boiling your catch alive is the newest way to attract a lover" Samantha stated sarcastically to the awful incident and wouldn't blame the man for avoiding her completely when they met up again at work. Both women gaped at her in disbelief but Gail managed to snap out of the stupor to motion with her hand for her to continue and she mumbled out meekly, "Good thing he isn't my height or I might've splashed it in his face. I brought him here to cool the burn- not _that _way, you perverts!"

"Then choose your words carefully" Gail admonished in reminder as she watched her friend sulk in embarrassment and hoped that she gained a little more confidence as she continued to be on the road with RAW. True, Samantha could hold her own verbally but she needed a little gumption in the weaker areas of conversational topics. The wrestler nudged Samantha's shoulder to pry slyly, "So you just played nurse? Simple nurse with no 'extra attention'-"

"_Gail!"_

"Oh c'mon, you've been ogling him for the past two months-"

"I do _not _ogle" Samantha enforced because she wasn't that type of woman and crossed her arms defiantly at the thought of stooping down like that. Eye raping somebody was not a favorite pastime. She picked at a lint sticking out between the stitching of the bedcover and pointed out matter-of-factly, "I only speak to him when it's absolutely necessary and that's usually during show time only for less than- oh god, I'm the invisible woman!"

"The subtle approach isn't working wonders for you and sadly to say, you're extremely subtle, Sam" Mickie stated with a friendly smile and wrapped her in a comforting bear hug to pull the woman out of her sulking slump. The younger woman needed to be more bold and sassy towards men and Mickie would make sure to put her with Stephen even if it killed both parties. With a smile, she lightened the situation by telling her brightly, "Don't worry, you can just go ask him out on a date since he's in room 203-"

Samantha gaped like a fish at her investigative skills but the brunette remained with that shiny white smile on her face. Honestly, if wrestling didn't continue into old age for her, she'd be a great private investigator. The dark-haired woman finally sputtered in disbelief, "You have his _room number_?"

She flashed her an impish smile and brought up innocently, "Remember the love note plan I was telling you about-"

"I don't remember a love note plan and I certainly wouldn't approve such a thing" Samantha interrupted with concern at the untold plan of her friend's and hung her head at the possible embarrassment facing her this time. The idea of an angry Stephen phoning the cops on her and possibly her crazy accomplice didn't sit well and she demanded sharply, "Mickie, what in God's name did you do _now_?"

The brunette brushed it off like it was nothing (which it probably wasn't) and coughed uneasily into her hand to admit with a pout, "Well, he didn't think it was from _you _exactly."

* * *

_Mickie slipped a closed note under the door of room 203 and knocked firmly on the door four times before running off to hide at the nearest corner that turned into the next hallway. With an eager grin, she waited for the door to open and her smile widened like a child's on Christmas Day when a pale hand picked it up to read the note outside the room. Her plan was going to be phenomenal and soon, everyone would know her greatness._

_Now, if I can only figure out who keeps sending _me _letters, she thought absentmindedly but shook her head to keep on task._

_Stephen, however, wouldn't be praising Mickie's greatness as he raised his eyebrow at the unsigned love poem to read it, 'I want you to know, That you are all I have ever longed for, And crave and yearn, That you are the man of my dreams.'_

_Unfortunately, his iceberg blue colored eyes landed on a familiar blond wrestler walking by as he whistled a tune and Stephen instantly demanded of them, "Did yah write this?"_

_Poor Mike could only glance to the sides of the hallway uncomfortably as Stephen waved the paper accusingly at him and nobody in their right mind wanted to piss off the tall Irishman. The confused blond could only defend himself by asking, "What the hell are you talking about, man? I just got off the elevator."_

_Mickie could only slap her forehead in failure and skedaddled before both men realized she was there in the first place.  


* * *

_

"So I figure as long as Mike and Stephen don't become tightly bound lovers, you're in the clear!" Mickie finished cheerfully with a happy grin in not being discovered while Samantha blanched in horror to what she'd done. How did she even come up with this stuff so quickly? It was surprising that Stephen hadn't caught her in the middle of a scheme yet but then again, when you're a lot shorter, you have ample hiding space. Samantha tested that theory once when she managed to switch an old version of a script for a new one while he talked on his cell phone and matched each of his footsteps until she reached a table and sneaked out of the room without being noticed.

Gail poked the silent woman in the ribs for a response and seconds later, they got it.

"You made me sound like a crazy stalker!" she hyperventilated to the possibility of him finding out the whole thing was orchestrated by the crafty but unrelenting mind of Mickie James. Her hands flew everywhere as she tried to gather her mind to a point of sanity and blurted with skepticism, "And how the hell do you know how to write poetry like that?"

Mickie gave her an indignant look as Gail agreed with the question since she _was _more of a speaker than a writer and the diva pointed out, "I can write like that if I want to. . .but the internet makes it super easy nowadays."

"You're killing me, you know that?" Samantha sighed pitifully as her beige face paled a few shades lighter and hung her head in disbelief to Mickie's dedication. She didn't know whether to be warmed at heart for her friendship or dismayed at the actions. She grabbed one of Mickie's hands into her own and softly asked for consideration, "Could you just let me handle this on my own? I don't want to come off needy or immature-"

Gail quickly cut in to put across the reality of that happening and sighed sympathetically, "Hon, you barely talk to the man, get in there and play the game-"

"Okay, don't quote Hunter's song like that" Samantha chuckled to Gail's ability to word play everything she heard and the last thing she wanted was hearing the wrestlers entry songs turned into sexual innuendos. The other woman rolled her eyes to being rebuffed while Samantha exhaled to let go of the matter and simply assured, "I'll try the direct approach when I'm ready-"

"Oh Sam, he'll be forty by the time you summon the courage" Mickie pouted disappointedly to the promise but let the matter drop. . .for now. Her brain would cook up something soon enough and Samantha and Stephen would be none the wiser. If she could match make for her siblings back home, friends were easy as pie. She grabbed Samantha by the forearm to tug her away from the bed and grinned enthusiastically, "Forget tedious work. Today's a spa day, remember?"

"It is?" she asked unsurely since she'd intentionally tuned out Mickie a few weeks ago as she tried to gather paperwork for Mrs. Wilkins hours before show time because somebody forgot to order one more camera that was needed for a long angle shot of the arena. Samantha's ears had deafened her friendly chatter so who knows what she'd agreed to unknowingly back then as she tried to correct the problem.

The sneaky grin on her friend's face didn't lessen her uncertainty and she withered in posture, hesitating meekly, "Mickie. . ."

* * *

"You know, I think I'll stick to pore strips instead of having my face poked and prodded at" Samantha mumbled disagreeably and rubbed at her blotched red face after having a deep cleaning of her pores. Massages were more her thing since they dug deep in the muscles and left you as limp as a noodle whereas facials were easy to do at home nowadays and kept money in your pocket. However, the three were getting a little extra pick me up for their feet since summer was in session and sandals were the essential shoe of the season.

Divas were expected to appear flawless so thankfully, Samantha could slide out of being pampered to the extreme unlike the other two. She idly flipped through a novel she'd brought to read while she waited for the procedure to finish (and avoid feeling tickles on her feet) but Mickie yanked the soft cover book out of her hands to chide with a slight tilt of her head, "Reading is an after dinner and wine kind of thing, you're here to relax and melt like a marshmallow."

"Let's go eat some cream puffs after this" Gail piped up at the mention of treats while she fought off sleep in her comfortable chair and the others agreed with a nod.

The three chatted away like a couple of school pals until a familiar face sat next to Samantha's right and Gail broke off from the conversation as she faced their direction to call out with an amused smile, "Wow, this is the first time I've seen you in a spa. . .ever."

John Hennigan sat beside them in a plush powder blue robe and slippers while his long hair was tied up in a ponytail to keep his appearance refined. He looked like a living and breathing magazine ad to Samantha. John nodded politely to the women in greeting as he placed his feet on a black ottoman that matched all the chairs in the room and chuckled softly to answer, "Well, skin this smooth takes time and effort to maintain, ladies. Body masks, exfoliation, moisturizing, and night serums along with a weekly sauna does the trick."

Samantha reached out with her fingers for curiosity's sake and rubbed his left forearm to feel that it _was _as smooth as a baby's bum and nodded in satisfaction to the women to confirm it, "Well, what do you know? It _is _smooth."

"Thanks."

"No, thank _you_" Samantha joked as she feigned a dreamy gaze most fans would give the man since she tended to banter a lot with both him and Mike. She worked with their teams often behind the scenes and would be on the road with them frequently. Plus, John came from the same hometown so they always had something to chat about. She plastered a huge smile of sheer delight on her lips and breathed airily as she swooned over his arm, "It's undoubtedly intoxicating to the touch. I'm sure fans everywhere will rejoice."

"Okay, stop fondling him" Mickie objected with a small laugh to their humorous behavior and Samantha uttered a disappointed 'oh' before slumping in her chair. On the job, she was reserved and polite to everyone to maintain a professional ambience but off the job, lighthearted humor and chatter perked her days up entirely.

John flipped through a magazine on motorcycles and briefly glanced at Samantha with amusement in his eyes to casually say, "It's a shame we won't get to Rome together but I'm sure Mike and Ted will keep you occupied."

"Oh yeah, seeing Ted flick peanuts at Randy's open mouth while he's asleep is loads of entertainment" she laughed to the common occurrence whenever the two wrestlers traveled together and hoped one wouldn't get lodged in the man's throat this time around. Death by peanuts wasn't a good image for a wrestler.

She tilted her head to the left side as she remembered a recent trip to Washington D.C. that was worth a trip to memory lane and a wide smile hurt her prodded face as she admitted guiltily, "Although, seeing Ted flick one at Cena was funny but Ted's pants full of whip cream when he woke up on arrival was worth the cost of the flight."

Mickie clutched Samantha's left arm as she moaned dramatically in woe, "I guess I'll have to survive until we meet in Florence."

"It's happy times like this that make me love this job" she chuckled warmly to the friendliness she received from each of the wrestlers but groaned when John pulled her into a one armed hug from his spot to squeeze her as well. She pointed her nose towards the ceiling as she was crushed by both of the wrestlers strength and choked out in a weak strangle, "Not a wrestler. . .can't breathe. . .tunnel of light. . ._dying_. . ."

An hour later had Samantha and the other three (John decided to tag along and join their torment- er, _fun _for the day) walked the block that was west of their hotel as they chatted about the newest films. Mickie, obviously, was a comedy-romance type while Gail went giggly over horror films and John, well, anything that blew up suited him nicely. Samantha was pretty much trying to play the double role of assistant/bodyguard in case fans decided to fling themselves at the wrestlers. Most asked for a picture and autograph which always delighted her for their mannerisms but some amazed the reserved Samantha herself when they latched onto the superstars to practically tear their limbs off. Fortunately, today was a breeze and most people on the streets kept to themselves.

"Mikey!"

The blond wrestler tilted his head up as he stepped out of a taxi and groaned aloud at the nickname when he saw Samantha standing on the curb with a pleasant smile while the trio snickered behind her. Mike walked onto the sidewalk and wagged a finger at the dark-haired woman to scold lightly, "I told you not to call me that again."

"Well, how else would you notice us?" she piped up innocently and noticed his casual garb of jeans and a black t-shirt so she assumed he didn't venture far in his sightseeing today. He tended to be laidback hours before a flight in which she asked curiously, "Have you packed yet?"

"Yes, Ms. Mora, I'll be ready at 0300 hours" he pledged with a military salute to keep up with her chirpy mood and turned to stare at John with a curious quirk of his brow, "Hmm, why am I not surprised by the flock of women around you?"

"We're just heading to the hotel, _Mikey_" Gail pointed out with a sly grin to the nickname as she swayed on the balls of her feet and he shot Samantha a small glare in which she simply flashed him a coy smile.

Despite his onscreen persona, Mike tended to be cool and casual in conversation while John became the joker out of the two. Samantha usually humored him with good-humored jokes that didn't jab at the expense of others unlike Ted who took it to the extreme so Mike and she blended nicely when it came to conversation. It also came in handy for not getting mad at the other because Mike was too lazy to hold a grudge while Samantha wasn't a spiteful person.

"Hey, can I get a piggy back ride?" Samantha brought up causing the group to laugh, except Mike, and gave him an innocent sugary grin to coax softly, "I'm sure 110 pounds is nothing for a tough wrestler like you. Remember your slogan? You're AWESOME!"

Mike targeted John with a warning finger instantly and accused with fake dramatics, "You've been teaching her how to charm people again! Shame on you, Hennigan, for turning this little flower into a weed."

"When did you start making analogies?" Mickie popped in since Mike tended to be direct in speech and ushered the group forwards before their antics caused a scene. There had been enough excitement when Ted busted a fire hydrant open with the help of giddy children and soaked the interior of Chris' parked convertible rental car a few months back.

"She's either going to learn from me or one of the ladies" John stated casually with a cocky grin and patted Samantha's head like he would a child's that was about to get a treat. She gave him a flat stare for the treatment and he continued proudly in declaration as the wind flowed his hair back like a movie star's which only served to fuel his cause, "It's better that she gets a _man's _view-"

"You're a man?" Samantha asked wryly in return for the patting, efficiently stopping his heroic pose on the street along with halting his little speech. The women laughed to the small joke but Mike cackled like a madman to the jest as he agreed to being a willing steed for the woman. Besides, the door of the hotel was only a few meters away in distance anyway.

"That _totally _earned you carriage rights" the blond man complimented while John posed a stubborn posture with the standard crossed arms, upturned nose, and tight lipped mouth. Samantha almost believed it herself if she didn't know him better but knew he'd be cheerful again within a minute. Mickie and Gail put on faces of pity for the taller man but he waved them away with his hands as they walked forwards, laughter echoing through the air.

Samantha wasted no time in case Mike changed his mind (which he often did) and jumped onto his back with a giddy smile for having her own human horse for a minute. Wrapping her arms around Mike's shoulders, she turned her head back to smile brightly at John to cheer him up, "Don't worry, buddy, you're still my Shaman of Sexy!"

She stabbed a fist into the air to hoot energetically, "Giddy up, my valiant steed!"

"This better not get into the tabloids" Mike muttered under his breath, more to himself, but took off down the street towards the hotel door to get inside as quickly as possible.

* * *

**A/N**: Next chapter will include more wrestlers as they hang at a bar, Randy realizes the boundaries of the English language, Cena plays mother hen, Mickie plans again, and the airport fans maul a wrestler. Thanks for reading and I appreciate every reader for taking their time out to read my chapter! Feedback is appreciated to further analyze what readers do and don't like.


	3. Randy, The Party Pooper

CHAPTER 3:

**Randy, The Party Pooper**

* * *

"You are adorable" Mickie squealed perkily as she squeezed her friend's shoulders while Samantha pulled the hem of her leather skirt to lower it. She wasn't a fan of short skirts (or skirts at all!) and constantly wore pants to hide her legs but Mickie had insisted on it after they had gone out for the night to a dance club. Eventually, Mickie got tired of the annoying drooling men that followed her like lost puppies and decided to come home.

She slapped the uneasy woman's hands away as they walked through the first floor of the hotel towards the bar where they were to be expected. Mickie pulled Samantha along by the hand as she scolded lightly with an impish grin, "Oh no, you don't. You work hard and you _play _hard."

"Mickie, I swear if this is another set up-" Samantha threatened in futility as she juggled with her clutch purse while trying to measure if her skirt wasn't too short. Her voice cut off when she found herself face-to-face with some of the other wrestlers gathered at the bar for a drink as they sat in one of the back corners of the room on sectioned off ivory colored couches. Why couldn't Mickie just let her snooze?

Classical music with jazz rhythms played in the background which gave the room a classy but laidback feel to it as lamps glowed dimly overhead. . .it strangely reminded her of a vintage era bar. She placed a quick smile on her face despite her bashful mood to greet them politely, "Hello there!"

John Hennigan pointed to her styled hair as he swirled the straw of his mojito and complimented proudly with his boyish grin, "Oh, you finally curled that hair of yours instead of flattening it which practically takes years off your face."

Samantha shot him a small glare but he quickly corrected himself with a chuckle, "Not that you're old but looking fresh isn't bad for your gorgeous face. And you're wearing a silk top and a _skirt_- okay, who're you dating?"

"I'm not dating _anyone_, Mickie insisted that I dress a little for a night out but I'm only having wine here since I had a few appletini's already" she pointed out shyly and was sure the light pink blush dabbed on the apple of her cheeks was darkening by the second. She'd rarely spent time among the male wrestlers in dressy outfits and smoky makeup fit for clubbing with the gals so the attention made her a little self-conscious. True, the divas before her were glamorous in ways she could never achieve herself but her own appearance always brought polite modesty. Speaking before crowds with strangers in a professional setting was a breeze but when gathered in an enclosed space with a small number, she would turn into a woman of stutters.

She tried to find an open space on the couches the men occupied to relax in and was about to sit quietly next to John Cena as he chatted with the other John and Randy but Mickie pushed her to the left with a simple hip nudge and piped up cheerfully, "There you go!"

Samantha's feet went off balance with aid from her heels and she stumbled into the directed seat, colliding into Stephen's right side as he managed to save his drink from another liquid mishap by holding it in the air. John Cena, however, ended up getting a black stiletto heel in the peroneus longus muscle of his left leg causing him to yelp in surprise to the sharp prick. Her soft pink lipstick smeared the right side of Stephen's checkered blue dress shirt and she heard Cena snicker aloud, "Isn't that cute? She tried to spear him."

_Oh, I'm gonna kill Mickie_, she thought embarrassingly and managed to pull herself off the man while maintaining the last bits of her dignity. Oh, what must he think of her by now? At least she avoided smashing the glass against his chest and flashing everyone with her underwear from the unexpected fall. If Mickie thought this was attractive to a man, Samantha had a few choice words to say in argument of it.

"That was not intentional. . .and liquids should _really _be banned when I'm near you" Samantha offered quickly in apology and sat upright to frown at the pink smear on his shirt. It was a good thing she'd decided to go with a neutral lipstick instead of switching the look to bright lips and neutral eyes. Otherwise, Stephen would look like someone stabbed him in the side akin to those characters in low budget films. Her hands hovered over the stained area as she bit her bottom lip nervously to the conundrum and rambled uneasily, "I haven't worked with lip stains before but I'll wash it and you'll never know the difference. I'm lucky that it wasn't a vavoom red hue or-"

"Ah can do me laundry just fine, Samantha" he dismissed her quick apologetic rambles with a friendly smile that allowed her to sigh in relief and she nodded sheepishly for avoiding conflict. Other men would've yelled about pricy fabric and cleaning costs but Stephen let it slide like a gentleman which Samantha appreciated greatly. Mickie sat across from them with Gail and Eve on another couch as a mischievous twinkle glowed in her brown eyes as she saw her work coming to life. Soon, she'd be gloating at pinning the two together successfully and moving on to play Cupid with someone else. Matthew's been looking a little lonely lately and she smiled at what could be her next project, lightly tapping the skirt of her floral print halter dress with her fingers in thought.

Randy nudged Cena's forearm as he flicked his head towards the quiet woman, who was trying very hard not to stare at the Irishman next to her, and joked with the group, "Stephen's tall enough to eat little Sam here for dinner and Gail for dessert."

"Hey, don't blame our genetics" Gail defended with a playful frown to their height comparisons and sipped her martini as she raised her chin defiantly towards the man. She motioned with her foot towards the redheaded man opposite of her and pointed out smugly with a cattish grin, "At least Stephen can throw you out the door with that seat attached to your ass."

"You wound me, Kim" Randy dramatized with a sigh and clenched a fist against his heart, thumping it lightly over his charcoal dress shirt. Gail rolled her eyes at his dry humor and he snapped his fingers at Samantha, who was trying to avoid conversation by sipping her glass of wine, and chuckled at her skittish behavior as he reminded, "Oh, I might be hung over so if you don't see me down in the lobby by three, you might want to kick the door down and throw ice on me. My manager doesn't seem to get the fact that I'm a heavy sleeper. . .and I promise I won't chase you this time."

"Dude, you're like a bear" Cena pointed out with a laugh and mimicked a drooling Randy as he reclined in his seat, draping his head over Samantha's shoulder and Stephen grabbed her drink before she dropped it on either of them from surprise. John gave her a cheeky smile that she returned before he settled down and Stephen took it as an all clear to return her drink as Samantha uttered a gracious thank you for avoiding another spill that would've stained both their outfits. She'd no idea on how to get wine stains out of silk either.

The blond wrestler decided to use her shoulder as a temporary pillow in which she flicked his left ear but he ignored it as he continued explaining in humorous enlightening context, "Vipers are supposed to be alert constantly so they might as well call you The Bear. There's no way vipers can make the sounds you make when sleeping."

Eve joined the fray of calling the man a bear onscreen and added in, "He'd have to dress in one of those furry undies and put his bum in the air for applause. I'm sure women worldwide would swoon at it while men would scream in horror and feel as if the decency of manhood has been stabbed by a thousand daggers. That would be the end of The Legend Killer and he'll become _El Oso Catastr__ó__fico _for comedy relief." (The Catastrophic Bear)

Samantha choked down her sip of wine instead of spitting it out as she laughed aloud at the Spanish joke (while imagining such a scenario) and Randy questioned the dark haired woman instantly for translation, "Wait, what'd she say?"

_Damn, I should've stuck to those high school Spanish lessons_, he thought in annoyance to the predicament and hoped it wasn't something too embarrassing. Unfortunately, this only fueled the other wrestlers to join in with their own bilingual languages.

"_Deo isang baipeo, ojig geeuleun kogoneungeo gom" _Gail spoke rapidly with a mischievous smile aimed right at the man and it had Randy groaning in his hands at the lack of understanding either language. (No more Viper, only a lazy snoring bear)

"_An Viper chun Winnie an Pooh, an n__á__ire" _Stephen spoke up with his own Gaelic joke as he took a sip of his whiskey and Randy snapped his head towards the redhead to glare at whatever he'd said too since men were supposed to stick together. (The Viper to Winnie the Pooh, the humiliation)

"Damn it, _one _language at a time! English! Switch to channel English!" he ordered frantically to stop the madness as the entire group laughed to tears but Randy waved it off after a few seconds to sip his beer. He was here to relax since the plane ride to Rome would have him knocked out with the aid of sleeping pills because flying for long hours made him uneasy but no one dared to call him acrophobic with a fear of flying if they wanted to keep all their teeth.

Hennigan laughed into his hands as his long hair fell over his face and he suggested amusingly, "Hey, we should do this more often."

A while later, Samantha was halfway through her glass while everyone chatted away and privately wondered if she packed everything. Rome would be her first trip overseas and as excited as she was, Samantha wanted to be prepared for the flight along with keeping her job intact with her new responsibilities. Hopefully, the new workload wouldn't give her a companion called an ulcer.

"_Mar sin ci__ú__in ansin, Samantha" _Stephen's voice broke her out of her thoughts since she'd stayed out of most conversations, giving only polite replies unless the group headed into sarcasm. She still considered herself a newcomer, especially when working with the wrestlers themselves and tried to keep a certain ambiance of trust within their boundaries.

Her gray eyes shot up towards his and she smiled modestly before replying slyly to his bilingual talk, _"Qu__é__?"_

Randy quickly intervened from his spot at the head of the group and pointed directly at the two to nag, "Don't start _that _again."

"Fine, Randy" she chuckled to his little tantrum and imitated a zipper motion across her lips with her fingers which satisfied him enough to return to his conversation with the guys. She shook her head in amusement to tell Stephen privately, "He'll be dead to the world the minute he's on that plane anyway. As the tallest in our group, I may expect you to carry him."

"Maybe Ah'll decide to sleep in then" he joked lightly to the humorous prospect of letting a woman of her height carry the other wrestler that dwarfed her and chuckled softly when she shook her head in protest to the idea.

"Oh no, there's absolutely _no _way I can drag two men out of the airport without drawing attention" she objected with a small laugh at having to pull two sleeping bears out of the plane without a wheelbarrow to put them in and shook her finger at him. Regardless that she didn't know Stephen too well as she did John and Mike, his demeanor was friendly on a daily basis despite his intimidating height (he'd frightened her into a corner when she'd accidentally met him for the first time by bumping into him but soon warmed up to the man). She gave him a smile full of mirth and teased playfully, "You're going to be the Celtic Warrior and drag his body to the curb while I hail a taxi."

Randy quickly interrupted the duo yet again with the aid of his super hearing and declared aloud to Samantha, "You do that and you get fire ants in your bed. . .you too, Farrelly."

"We're not twelve, Randy" she pointed out to his empty threat but changed her tone in case this was a rare one-in-a-thousand chance cases where he actually took initiative and told him warmly with a perky smile, "I won't let anything happen to you. You can snore and eat like a demon but I'll wake you before you end up somewhere in Germany."

He seemed satisfied with her promise since she wasn't as crazy like some of the other wrestlers (Ted) and returned to his chat once again while Cena looked like he'd aged five years from all the interruptions. Samantha stifled a laugh behind her teeth in regards to the touchy Randy and fun loving John but having both of them on the trip tomorrow would secure peace on the plane because nobody back talked them. John tended to lecture while Randy. . .well, one heated glare from the Viper himself was enough to silence _anybody_. She sighed to herself in satisfaction of averting a Randy crisis and told the redhead next to her, "When you grow up in a house full of boys, you learn a few things on satiating egos."

Samantha leaned back into her seat, ignoring the cheesy grin on Mickie's face from across which caused Stephen to quirk a red eyebrow in awkwardness to her unblinking stare but she simply turned around to rejoin the chatter. He turned to Samantha for clarification on the woman's behavior, leaning close to her ear which caused poor Samantha to straighten like an army private as he asked uncertainly, "Why is Mickie staring at us like that?"

The unfortunate woman could only improvise because she sure as hell wasn't about to tell him the brunette was trying to pin both of them together in her quest of being Aphrodite herself. Samantha swirled her glass of wine nervously as she avoided meeting his gaze since they were already sitting together and it would only serve to fuel Mickie's glee along with confirmation that she was ensnaring him, which Samantha highly doubted in all the planes of existence. She cleared her throat before lying her head off to protect Stephen's sane mind, "She's practicing psychotic stares for a movie audition in New York City in a few weeks. You know, crazy stalkers and all that teenage horror nowadays. Nothing beats hacked up body pieces in today's world and I'm sure she'll ace it."

Stephen didn't look thoroughly convinced since it seemed a little farfetched to him and Samantha added in a wide smile to boost her convincing skills to make him believe it, waving to Mickie in an attempt to clinch the small lie. The brunette returned it with another beaming smile that bordered on the bizarre and Stephen decided to drop it before his mind became more boggled on why a woman was practicing acting in a bar of all places, shaking his head to let Samantha know he accepted her answer.

The cell phone in her clutch vibrated to life and she popped open the small black purse. Digging through her carry-on makeup (the mishap would have her fixing the lipstick soon), she grabbed her cell phone to check the call number and a grimace formed on her lips on the familiar numbers. Oh jeez. She flashed the redheaded man a polite smile for breaking away from their conversation (which by all miracles was lasting longer than five minutes and cursed her crappy luck) before sighing reluctantly, "Speaking of family. . ."

She answered it with a chirpy hello and the first voice she heard was her mother's overlapping the chatter of her brothers as they wanted answers regarding the wrestlers. Did she mention her brothers were hardcore fans? She hoped the tour to Los Angeles, whenever that was, wouldn't have her mauled by the trio of siblings as they tried to bypass security at the hotel. A few sharp Spanish orders sent their way told them mama wasn't kidding and the line became deathly quiet as her mother began her weekly regimen of questions, "Are you ready for your trip, Samantha?"

The production assistant stared at the table in front of her with boredom as everyone around her was having good time and stated flatly, "Yes, ma."

"Any problems with the airport? Delays? Rain-"

"Ma, it's the _summer_."

She sighed at her mother's constant worrywart nature over any possible catastrophe that could happen and heard her snap back worriedly, "I know that, but you're going overseas. What if the gasoline runs out or a bird flies into the turbine or a bomb-"

"Ma, you're going to scare _me _more if you keep talking" Samantha interjected quickly before her mother's paranoia became contagious and placed her drink on the coffee table. John Cena muffled a laugh into his hands and she smacked his shoulder lightly because the last thing she wanted to appear as was a mama's or daddy's girl. . .although she did love both very much. She tapped her fingers on her knee to keep her tone steady from mortification or irritation and assured firmly, "Look, I'm fine and nothing will go wrong, I _promise_-"

"Are you the one checking the runway? Piloting the plane? Monitoring air conditions?" her mother shot back to rebuff her guarantee and Samantha closed her eyes in embarrassment to being put in this position in front of the people she worked with. Then again, this could've been Los Angeles and her dear mother would've been doing the same in person to raise the humiliation meter into astronomical proportions. Samantha counted herself lucky this time.

She let her mother run out of air in her questioning rants before Samantha replied back neutrally, "Ma, you know very well that all of that is impossible for me without being thrown in jail for life so trust me. _Now_. . .did you feed my fishes?"

She heard John Hennigan and the women snicker at the mention of her little pets at home since being on the road meant that she either had an empty apartment or the obvious choice, had her separate room at her parent's house. Being single and twenty-five with a recent degree tended to shift you in that angle but once she finished working for the company, she'd be living somewhere scenically outdoors permanently. Randy let out a disgruntled groan for knowing he shared a name with a glowlight tetra fish of all creatures but Samantha had told him she let her brothers name the fishes ages ago and it wasn't her fault they named one after him.

Her mother hesitated before answering calmly, "Yes, perfectly fine."

That didn't sit well with Samantha and she clutched the phone closer to her ear as she demanded suspiciously, "What aren't you telling me? Did something happen to Randy and Mikey?"

The women took this time to point and laugh at Randy while he threatened to shave their hair off for any wisecracks. Needless to say, they didn't believe a word of it and kept on flinging jokes and Samantha cringed when he shot her a warning glare for letting the secret out. Whoopsie daisy.

"Samantha Isabella Mora, you care more about the _fish _than your own family!" her mother nagged in a piercing pitch and she held the phone away from her ear instantly to avoid bursting an eardrum as she sighed depressingly for riling up her mother.

John Cena laughed to himself from his seat next to her and he nudged her right side to ask amusingly, "Your middle name's Isabella?"

Samantha fought back a humiliated groan for being put in this position when she'd been having a good time with friends (not to mention talking to an attractive man) and shot John a glare while a ramble of Spanish reprimands were spoken by her mother. She simply sighed to get back on her good side and cut in loudly to overlap her voice, "Okay, forget about the fish!"

She felt a nudge from her right and saw John's hand motioning for the phone in which she smiled thankfully for his ability to negotiate flawlessly. He was her go-to guy in unpleasant conversations with worried parents or unwelcome people and by some miracle, he was always listened to. The man was a natural born entertainer and motivational speaker who could make anyone do just about anything. Plus, for some mysterious reason that she couldn't comprehend, her mother trusted him than any other person she worked with. The wrestler simply reclined in his seat to get into his usual conversational mood and spoke politely into the phone, "Hello there, Mrs. Mora, this is Jonathan Cena again. How are you on this fine evening? Uh-huh. Very nice to hear, ma'am. Yes, I know Samantha can be a little stubborn-"

"I'm not stubborn!"

He gave her the old 'adults are talking' glimpse before continuing the conversation, "She's a good kid though, Mrs. Mora. Did she tell you she was promoted today? Yes, I'm sure you'll have a _lot _to talk about later on."

Samantha groaned into her hands at those words because she already had an influx of calls every day that related to work alone and knew when her mother got chatty, it took hours to get her off without sounding rude. John simply gave her a sympathetic pat on the back as she whimpered inaudible gibberish and he carried on, "She's pretty happy right now and can't wait to board her first international flight. Now, as a mother, I know you worry but I promise her friends and I will make sure everything's all right. Uh-huh. I completely understand and I'll make sure she calls within an hour when we arrive or I'll make the call myself. Uh-huh."

"You know your family's crazy when you have to have pals talk to them" Samantha groaned in embarrassment to her loving but over worrying family. Maybe she should just let voicemail answer the rest of their calls for the week so she could catch a breather but doubted it. They'd probably put a nationwide alert for her disappearance and call the Pentagon by the time she returned to the States simply because she didn't call. She often wondered if there were other families as eccentric as hers because then she wouldn't feel so crazy. Grabbing her drink, she took a good gulp of it to wash away the red flushing her cheeks but it only worsened it.

Stephen's pale fingers grabbed the stem of her glass and he took it away as her oval shaped face flushed a rosy pink that was quickly changing into crimson. She uttered a soft complaint but didn't meet his gaze to argue and he blamed it on her modest demeanor which was quickly becoming inebriated. Her smaller fingers reached for it but he kept it out of reach like a good samaritan as he advised gently, "Not too fast there, Samantha."

"Fine" she agreed politely but frowned to being lectured and received the glass back to nurse a small sip. Stephen watched her carefully to make sure she didn't gulp the entire thing down because he was sure that the rational Samantha didn't want to be drunk hours before a flight. She met his gaze with dismay at being treated like a kid by him of all people and raised her glass in a toast to grin playfully, "Thar we go."

"No makin' fun of me accent" he warned lightheartedly to her little joke but the reserved Samantha took it seriously and he mentally groaned at hearing another apology. He would have to tell her soon that they weren't strangers and perfect mannerisms weren't needed during their conversations. Sometimes he thought that she only treated _him _this way but doubted there was any validity in it.

_She's just a sweet lass that was raised to be polite_, he thought in afterthought to her deer in the headlights expression and hoped their interactions would be less jumpy on her part.

"I wasn't, I think they're pretty unique since I spent my childhood getting rid of mine in ESL classes" she rambled sheepishly to dissuade any insults she'd unknowingly said and hoped she hadn't gotten on his bad side somehow. The blood rushed to her head from the alcohol consumption and rested back on the couch with a peppy smile that reminded Stephen of tween WWE fans whenever appearances were made. She shook a finger at him as he smiled to her coy behavior and Samantha lectured in declaration, "Don't America-nize yourself, Stephen. _Erin go Br__á__gh. Amhr__á__n na bhFiann, ceart_?"

Mickie and the other two women stared with puzzled shock at the flushing woman's last sentences but Eve beat them to the question by inquiring curiously, "What was that?"

Samantha merely blinked in confusion and answered with another dumbfounding question, "What was what?"

"That."

"What _that_?"

Gail laughed at her mystified expression as Stephen and the women continued to stare at her like a space alien but Samantha's neurons finally made the connection despite the alcohol flooding her system. She chuckled to their baffled expressions with a sudden 'oh' from her lips and leaned forwards to simply explain, "See, when I got my first computer as a kid, the first thing I did was research languages of different countries. My encyclopedia had anthem songs and common phrases so it was easy to learn with practice and since I lacked decent internet with those old static modems we had back then, all I had for fun were the programs already installed. Sadly, I can't say the same for knowing the languages as I grew older."

She eyed Stephen with worried suspicion and light embarrassment as she squeaked out quietly in privacy to him, "I didn't accidentally call you a pig, did I, Stephen?"

"No, yer safe" he assured with an amused laugh towards the humorous girl and wondered why she didn't talk aloud often; she was good company despite the clumsy mishaps and wouldn't mind getting to know her without having her run off. Samantha blushed at the sincere smile and glanced down at her drink to ward off the heat on her face as it traveled down her body and with no cool air flowing through the lounge, she felt like an egg under a boiling sidewalk.

She fanned her warm face with her hand in futility and groaned miserably to the group, "Boy, it's _hot _in here, isn't it?"

John Hennigan shook his head at her lack of keeping up with the alcohol content in her drinks and feigned disappointment as he declared, "Poor Sam's a lightweight."

Cena finally finished his conversation with a satisfied grin for yet another victory in speech and handed a flushed cheeked Samantha the phone.

"There you go, mom says to stay safe and take clean underwear" he finalized with a snigger afterwards and she shook her head to his words as she tried to fight any oncoming headaches from the call. Honestly, she believed her mother said those exact words because those were the first questions she asked when she first went on the road with the company. That and take a tetanus shot. John finished the humiliation when he gave an eyeful of his cerulean eyes and added in with a cheeky grin, "She also wants me to visit for dinner when we stop in L.A. for keeping you out of trouble all this time."

"Now why does she listens to _you _all the time and not _me_, her own child,is beyond belief" she chuckled to his suave nature and tucked her phone into her purse with the hope that it would remain there until tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was like five minutes away anyway in the Stamford but whatever. She stuffed her clutch between the seat cushions to keep it out of the way and heard the group laugh at her actions to do away with it.

John took a drink of his beer and stated simply with pride written over his chiseled face, "Manly charms, Sam. . .and my mom does the exact same with each of my brothers. You learn to deflect it."

Mickie popped in to usher Samantha out of her seat and smiled at the group to pipe up enthusiastically, "Time to dance, don't you think? Such lively music."

Randy made a sour face at the statement since it was lulling him to sleep in actuality and spoke up sardonically, "Sounds more like 40s music-"

"_Wonderful _music!" she emphasized sharply enough to get the man to back off as he stared at her disturbingly and Mickie plastered a wide smile on her face as if the outburst never happened. Stephen was beginning to think she actually had an audition in a horror film and froze when she pinned him down with a bright eyed glance as natural instinct told him Mickie was planning something devious but didn't get a chance to ask. She feigned a look of surprise as if she'd never seen him before and grinned excitedly at him to suggest, "Here's an idea, Stephen. Take Sam out there and dance for a bit, the poor thing didn't get to sightsee and this might be fun before she boards that plane tomorrow."

Samantha choked on her sip of wine and quickly sputtered to save herself from another of Mickie's crazy plans, "No, I-"

"That's a great idea, let's go" brunette John declared eagerly since dancing was a favorite pastime for him when he wasn't in the gym or playing sports and stood up to pull Samantha to her feet. She barely had time to place her glass down on the table before she poured it over her lilac blouse and Hennigan twirled the bashful Samantha without warning to laugh heartily, _"Pura vida, mae."_

"I should've never taught you that" she admonished playfully and tried to gather her bearings from the dizzy twirl before she ended up causing bodily damage to anybody nearby, Stephen in particular, since he'd become the magnet for it. Samantha knew her ears were burning red from both the situation and the wine but John Hennigan always lightened her iffy situations by pointing the spotlight on himself.

Mickey tried to fix her plan as it began to tear heavily at the seams and violently jabbed her finger at the redhead, who raised his eyebrows at her, as she intervened, "No, Stephen's supposed to-"

The plan hit critical failure when the Irishman gave the duo a smile and declined with a small yawn as he covered his mouth, "No thanks, it's gettin' late an' we have an early flight so enjoy yerself, Samantha."

The brunette woman could only stare as the two headed off to the dance floor while the redheaded man finished his drink and she sighed at another plan biting the dust. A muffled snicker was heard from behind and the brunette snapped back, "Shut it, Gail. This is just a setback."

With that said, she smoothed out the floral patterned skirt of her dress and ordered another martini from the bartender to enjoy the rest of the night.

* * *

Samantha tugged her carry-on suitcase along on its squeaking wheels as she mentally counted everyone for the trip outside of the security screening and tapped her foot against the gray tiled flooring as she waited on the last person. Ironically enough, Randy was the first person to arrive but was already using seven airport seats as a temporary bed while he wearing his coat as a sleeping mask. She hoped that he wouldn't need to be carried inside if he already drank his sleeping pills to snooze through the trip.

She finally caught a hint of neon orange and blue through the airport crowds but tilted her head to the right side when she saw the haste in his steps. What on Earth. . .

"Oh no" she mumbled hopelessly at the idea of the paparazzi chasing the popular wrestler down with fans in tow.

John Cena ran like the wind through the crowds, efficiently dodging people in his way as he confirmed her dreaded suspicions when he yelled out, "Rabid fans!"

So much for an easy check-in at the airport.

Luckily, she'd been saving her spot in the security line for such a scenario and watched him jump over nearby empty chairs as if he were hurdling for the gold in the Olympics until he met her in the line. She nodded impressively to his ability to not plow anyone down on the way there and wondered if this was the first time he'd done that run. John hunched over to take a deep breath as he managed to speak hoarsely, "I think. . .I think I lost them."

"Why in the world did you wear _orange _of all colors? You're like a neon target sign for them" she scolded before shoving him ahead of her and offering an apologetic smile to passengers behind her as she lied by saying he was her cousin. The sooner she got him past the security line, the better.

Unfortunately, a wrestler like him would get noticed in a heartbeat by loyal TV viewers and within a minute, the fanatical crowd had descended on the man. Now, normal fans would've shook hands and asked for autographs which John would've gladly given but if it caused the man to run like a madman, then it was the worst kind. Poor John got the bad portion on this day because the second they reached him, arms shot out and they started grabbing at him as if he were made of delicious free chocolate.

"Let's be calm. . .okay now. . .Ow! Hey! What the- that's not a toy! C'mon now-"

Samantha could only manage to push the taller man forward through the security line as people rushed the man to tear at his clothes and shouts of praise echoed through the halls louder than the airport's intercom overhead. John's calm and friendly demeanor in public didn't help matters and it only served to fuel their actions in which Samantha cleanly tore off the coat he wore over his shoulders and pushed him with all of her strength through the metal detector. Reaching the safety of the TSA, John was able to stuff his duffel bag in the x-ray machine and headed inside towards safety when the metal detector didn't beep on him while Samantha stayed behind to push back the crowds and deal with the aftermath.

The small group of RAW superstars that were gathered nearby to wait for Samantha and John could only stare in bewilderment as he walked up to them with his duffle bag in tow (which no longer had a shoulder strap) and ruffled clothing but minus a watch, cap, and jacket. He hoped they hadn't managed to snag his cell phone too. John ran a hand over his blond head before declaring to them in a casual sigh, "I gotta start carrying freebies."

"Wasn't there security out there?" Ted questioned as he could see the large crowd dispersing from the area and was glad only passengers were allowed at the gate. Otherwise, all of them would be getting the same treatment at the moment and running into the plane for safety.

"Yeah but it wasn't a pretty sight" John said with a wince at what security would face with the crazy fans but laughed heartily the next second to point out, "It's when they stop grabbing at you that you should really start worrying."

His left ear felt a little deaf when he laughed and he reached up to touch his ear and both Nattie and Ted gaped in revulsion when John's hand pulled out a sticky pink residue from within his ear. John stared at it in shocked stupor as the only facial movement came from his blinking eyes before exclaiming with horrified disgust, "Is this someone's _gum_? Ugh! Oh my-"

Ted took this ample time to crack a joke and teased with a roguish grin, "Damn John, your fans sure have some weird fetishes."

John was about to flick the sticky gum into the blond man's hair in retaliation to see who had the last laugh but Nattie saved Ted from a hair catastrophe as she spoke up worriedly, "Um, you guys. . .where's Sam?"

John gaped for a second as he realized the dark haired woman was nowhere in sight and muttered under his breath, "Oh crap. . .Sam!"

Just as the two were about to venture into the mad crowd before them, Samantha burst through the security screening while holding her carry-on bag like a life preserver. Her black cardigan sweater hung off her shoulders as she breathed heavily despite the short distance and walked over to John to hand him the last shredded remain of his jacket. The wrestler stared at the ripped remains of his expensive jacket as Ted stifled an amused laugh behind his hand and John pocketed it since it could still be used as a cleaning rag for his cars. Samantha pulled off the clip holding her shoulder length hair in place since half of it had gotten loose (not to mention pulled) and put on a shoe that had fallen off in her haste to scram. She considered herself lucky for not losing it or breaking the small heel.

Nattie walked over to the disheveled woman that appeared as if she'd come straight out from a car accident and clasped a hand over her mouth in disbelief to exclaim over her appearance, "Oh my, Sam, did they get you too?"

"No, they completely ignored me but I was able to sell off his jacket for $5 bucks a piece" she piped up brightly with a toothy grin despite she'd almost gotten mobbed less than a minute before and showed them several green bills in her right hand. Being in TV production, there was never a dull moment to advertise and this time worked marvelously for both parties. When she knew the coat was going to be shredded by eager hands, she'd made a daring attempt to sell the pieces off and it worked like a charm. Waving the dollar bills in the air, she told the trio proudly, "Look, I made $30 in under a minute!"

John yanked them out of her grasp with a mischievous 'yoink' and she groaned disappointedly with a 'hey' for losing her quick made cash but he split it in half to give her the change. He liked treating Samantha like a kid sister and after saving his butt from being mauled by fans, she deserved a little compensation for doing something out of her job description. She pocketed her new fifteen bucks with a smile as she fixed her luggage back onto the floor to squeak its wheels (she really should've bought new luggage before heading out on this job) and John stated brightly, "This will come in handy for the flight."

Samantha rolled her carry-on case and shot him a flat stare since he tended to splurge on stuff without actually having a need for it. Their last trip cost him over two hundred bucks when he bought an R2-D2 replica but the weirdest was a head massager that caused Randy and Ted to laugh for hours at the Tron looking helmet. Samantha, unfortunately, had to side with them on that occasion because it did make him look like a character straight out of Tron or some strange sci-fi film. She hoped he wouldn't go overboard this time and took it upon herself to keep his impulsive buying in check by demanding, "You're not going to buy from the Duty Free or Sky Mall shops again, are you?"

"What? A little Hugo Boss never hurt anyone" he said innocently with a boyish grin but she knew it was anything but that and John turned around to walk away with Ted, who continued laughing at his gum incident. She shook her head amusingly to those two and fixed her rumpled sweater as she tried to patch up her professional look but doubted it would be as before.

Nattie gave her a friendly smile and Samantha wished she could look so put together as the blond did with her tight-fitted black blazer and skinny denim jeans while her flawless face screamed nationwide magazine cover. Samantha would be lucky enough to be on a page titled 'don't let this happen to you'. She pretty much dabbed on whatever lipstick matched her clothes and forgot about eye shadow so early in the morning. . .well, it was three a.m. so pretty much the dead of night.

_I need a pick me up and find the nearest bathroom to fix my hobo appearance_, she thought tiredly since the wine had given her a small headache but it was nothing a little coffee or chocolate wouldn't fix.

Samantha grabbed Nattie's arm as the blond muffled a yawn behind her hand (apparently, she'd gone to sleep late too) and the shorter woman suggested cheerfully, "Let's go buy Toblerone's and hit a Starbucks since we need our pep to last through two airplane rides!"

"Sammy, you've read my mind" Nattie chuckled giddily at eating something that would perk her right up (despite the calorie count) and both women linked their arms together to head down the chain of stores near their waiting gate.

Unfortunately, time was against them today as the monotonous intercom buzzed to life throughout the airport, "Flight 801 from LaGuardia to Logan International by US Airways boarding now."

The small group of superstars and other passengers could hear the loud echo of Samantha's voice seconds later, _"Damn it!"_

That, in turn, woke up Randy from his slumber and he shot upright with his jacket over his head to yell out in disorientation, "We'll be back after these messages!. . .Oh god, I'm _blind_!"

Mike, who was quietly reading a New York bestseller to keep his mind tranquil, used his handy novel to smack the coat off of Randy's head as he sat nearby and returned to his reading without a peep.

"Oh," was Randy's reply when his vision came back instantly.

* * *

**A/N**: Airport security lines, the only way to beat them is to run for your life. . .well, in John's case. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the next one will take place in Rome, Italy where strange food is consumed and a casual visit to a vineyard has a group of superstars lost while Mike runs amok into the wild. Thank you for your fav's and alerts on this story, I appreciate every one I get. Brownie points go to whoever can figure out the country of origin to Hennigan's quote.

Kudos to my story reviewers:

_TheProblemIs-It'sNotMusic_: Thanks for the fav and alert! There's no way I will ever make a Mary Sue character since OC's are hard to bring to life and making them handle everything like superheroes is a huge no-no. We've all seen the 'love note' tactic from elementary to college and we should know by now that it tends to backfire in ways most horrible. Sheamus is intimidating in height alone but he always makes me laugh on Raw (especially last Monday's when he had that little ice pack on his head) and the accent clinches the interest.

_Notallgermangirlsareugly_: Thank you for loving the fic and yes, she's as normal as you and me. Especially in this chapter by turning a bad situation into a business opportunity.

_WWE Superstar Fanatic_: Yeah, this fic will have a lot of comedy in it and I'm doing my best to make sure all the descriptions in my writing are easy to imagine by the readers. Thank you for the review!

_LMDxCenaxOrtonxCullen_: Glad you like it and I have a tendency as a writer to have a couple face obstacles at first and both Sam and Stephen will face the same (while also surviving the adventures they're put in). I read your story and yes, you should write more Sheamus fics because he needs love too aside from all the other popular superstars.


	4. Samantha, The Hoarder

CHAPTER 4:

**Samantha, The Hoarder**

* * *

Samantha scratched her head with a perplexed mind to the itinerary before her since she'd never heard of a few of the hotels she and the others would be staying in within a matter of days. The unknown always gave her a queasy feeling in the gut and she hoped that this time, it wouldn't lead to anything catastrophic. She'd tried to find more about the lodgings online but got squat in her search engine. All she could do was hope that everything would be set or else she'd be scrambling to find information from all of the departments and having her ear yelled off by the bosses of each as to why she didn't keep a step ahead. That was not a comforting thought in the slightest.

_Just keep optimistic, I mean, what's the worst that could happen in a hotel?_, she thought nervously as she dared to think of the impossible but unless a plane crashed into it or a disastrous earthquake hit, anything else would be fine. Otherwise, she'd be getting beaten to a pulp by harps in heaven by the dead superstars. Not a nice way to spend eternity with Ted yelling in your ear.

"Sam, let your fingers breathe before they melt into the keys" Nattie spoke up with gentle chiding to her nonstop clacks as the dark-haired woman tried to track down every bit of information she could find. The blond, however, was trying to tune it out with her music player but the clacking managed to bypass her earphones.

_I need to buy decent noise-cancelling earphones_, she thought grumpily and tore the pink earpieces from her ears with a simple yank. Staring at the little troublemakers, she sighed aloud to release mental steam, _That's the last time I let TJ buy things from a gas station without my opinion. Men are not shop savvy._

Samantha noticed her movements from the corner of her eyes and a small smile hitched at her unpainted lips as she spoke up amusingly, "Let me guess, another pair of the 'buy two, get one free' instead of the specific one you wrote down with the SKU number and store address?"

"Yeah, it can now join my radio/shower mirror that zaps you whenever you change the station" she answered dryly to her strange bundle of belongings her boyfriend bought for her and let out a long disappointed sigh as she sunk into her seat. The cold circulated air caused her to shiver for a moment, prompting her to close her jacket with the buttons, before stating aloud, "If only they made a microchip for men where they would automatically be given that knowledge and it can zap them whenever they screw up."

"Hey, you can't undermine all our work to be lazy. . .we worked _hard _on it!" Mike piped up from the row in front of the women after overhearing their conversation and his stylish blond head poked out to peer down at them. With a determined tone, he pointed out, "We aimed to be lazy and women fought to be supreme overlords-"

"Wait a-" both women objected to the 'overlord' remark but he cut them off instantly.

"In the end, we _both _got our goals" he finished with a proud smile that reminded Samantha of his on-screen personality grins and he thumped his chest with manly pride. After his little ego stroke, he jabbed a warning finger at them and warned quickly, "So _no _backsies."

Nattie simply hurled her earphones at his head for a direct hit and Mike disappeared back behind the navy airplane seat once again as quickly as he'd popped in. The blond woman rubbed her hands together in triumph for defending the female race and relaxed in her seat, snuggling into a warm blanket the stewardess had given her while Samantha returned to her workload again.

In the row ahead, Matthew was in heavy concentration as his fingers nimbly laid a wall on the third story of his tower of cards and he wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. This was taking all of his focus and he grabbed the next card, the queen of hearts, but before he could place it onto his tower. . .a set of flung earphones from Mike's hands crashed into his creation like a burning meteor striking the Leaning Tower of Pisa into pieces.

Matthew gaped in silent horror to his ruined masterpiece, his fingertips twitching in frozen stupor as the red card fell between his digits, and finally let his head slump in defeat. His poor tower never stood a chance against the flung projectile. Ted, who sat next to him while thoroughly enjoying his munching on a bag of roasted peanuts, patted him on the back before declaring with personal amusement, "Ah well!"

The dark-haired man sulked as his brown eyes stared wistfully at his destroyed tower, what it could've been, and grumbled pitifully, "It's not fair."

"Life is never fair, it's _very_ fickle" the blond replied matter-of-factly with a self-assured nod as Matthew's eyebrows raised to the enlightening comment. DiBiase was known as the laidback and joker of the team, not the philosophical thinker. Ted broke his moment of reflection a second later as he informed with a witty grin, "Now, excuse me as I try to score a point with a peanut in Randy's mouth."

Matthew let him be since Orton's blanket covered lap was already full of peanuts that missed their mark. He wanted to have nothing to do with Ted's pranks when the man finally awoke to the realization he'd been a basketball hoop for peanuts or finally choked on one. With no new ideas in his mind that could aid in occupying his time, Matthew decided to fiddle with the radio stations the airline supplied.

However, he couldn't hold back his laughter when Mike's voice echoed through the cabin behind him, "Here's your weird pillow, DiBiase."

"It's not _weird_, it's memory foam!" Ted protested defensively as he halted his peanut hurling to glance behind his seat as the other wrestler fiddled with the belongings in the overhead compartment. Mike had been trying to nab his cozy snuggie from his carry-on bag, since airplane blankets were practically child size for him, when his colleague's item had obstructed his path which led to a one-sided fight with the pillow.

Mike simply rolled his eyes before chucking the blue foam pillow at his head, which then immediately bounced off Ted's head and into the middle of the aisle next to him. The blond reached out for his foam pillow with his long fingers and shot the other man a quick glare before retrieving it into his hands, shoving it behind his head to keep him comfortable. Comfort was a luxury he always made sure to afford. As the notorious joker of the group, he added in a last minute jab to defend his honor, "Besides, I wouldn't be talking if I were you, Maggie Simpson."

Matthew, John, TJ, Stephen, and David laughed aloud at the comparison because Mike's snuggie did in fact fit the color scheme and shape of the cartoon character's outfit. Mike decided to give up the lost fight before he got in way over his head and being a passive fellow, sat down with his blanket/robe to put it on and doze into calming slumber land.

Nattie chuckled from her spot as she heard the ruckus up ahead as Mike's seat before her shifted and shook her head at what the men were joking about now. If they weren't causing each other mayhem, they turned to joking. She turned to give Samantha a weary eye to all of the busy typing and decided that she'd end it for both the woman's benefit and her own carefully crafted plan. It would _not _go awry as Mickie's previous plans had and Nattie would reign supreme as the mastermind. Her manicured fingernails tapped against the left armrest as she feigned a sigh and ordered gently, "Take a breather, Sam. I'll be here in case anything comes up."

"But I have to-" she started to refute the idea of slacking off and pointed to her bundle of paperwork on the tray table. It was best to get it out of the way during the long plane ride in order enjoy her first trip overseas without the stress.

"Sleep" Nattie commanded with a friendly smile, innocently insistent to get her plan underway and knew the assistant needed to catch a snooze anyway. There was never a day that went by that she didn't see Samantha scrambling back and forth at a hotel or event with hasty pitter-patters in her steps.

The sound of the word 'sleep' sounded glorious to Samantha since Mickie's plan had her out past midnight sipping alcohol while attempting to swing dance with Hennigan and she'd only grabbed two hours of sleep before heading out to the airport. Even now, her poor eyeballs seemed devoid of moisture as her sluggish brain tried to keep them open. The blinking icon on her word document practically repelled her from working and she sighed with weary defeat to the mocking blink, turning her computer into hibernation mode before shutting it close. She carefully placed it into her laptop case and blinked her dry itchy eyes in relief as the sound of faint plane turbines and the chatter of passengers filled her ears.

"One hour" she stated firmly to her friend because oversleeping would push her schedule back (a luxury she couldn't afford) and rested her head on her arms in the old elementary school nap mode. Sleeping back on airplane chairs always gave her painful cricks in the neck and the recliner never worked for her. If at all, she ended up getting kicked from behind from the next passenger. Within five minutes, she was knocked out into dreamland and Nattie slyly smiled to herself in success to phase one. Number two wouldn't be far behind and with a coy hum, she grabbed her leather purse to stand up and walked off to initiate the next part.

When Samantha came to, she had drool trailing down the side of her mouth as she slept on the tray table and an ache in her neck formed from the uncomfortable position. Her lips mumbled inaudible gibberish from her drowsy state as her mind focused in on where she was. How long had she been sleeping anyway? The sound of the turbines still rang in her ears so she guessed they were a while from their destination since noise lacked in the cabin and she opened her slate gray eyes to a blurry hue of porcelain and scarlet.

Wait. . .what happened to beige and _blond_? Scarlet was way off chart.

"_Ahh!"_

Samantha's sudden exclamation of surprise caused Stephen to drop his cup of soda onto his lap and Nattie smiled like an imp from up ahead in her new seat next to TJ. Switching seats had been easy as pie but she didn't expect the woman to shriek in surprise. Poor Samantha needed to be less socially awkward in strange situations but Nattie would let this all play out. Hopefully, the end result would be positive and not catastrophically negative.

"I hope she isn't having a heart attack back there" her boyfriend spoke up as he tried to snooze but the sharp shriek had disrupted it. He really hoped the women wouldn't traumatize the meek woman into a panic attack by the end of the month and inadvertently cause Stephen to be beaten to death or lose all his pairs of pants to wet spots.

"She'll be _fine_, babe" Nattie assured with a long drawl filled with emphasis to her own confidence and relaxed in her seat to see if her own plan went as scheduled.

Samantha could only stare in horror as she once again caused a mishap on the same redhead while Stephen let a small sigh pass through his lips at the new stain on his pants. He gave her a sidelong glance as he placed the half-empty cup on his tray table and spoke up with light amusement, "Yah know, Ah think yah should be less jumpy. Ah might end up with new laundry too soon."

"I'm so sorry, Stephen, you just. . .scared me" she sighed weakly in reason to this new twist of what she called her disastrous romance appeal and frowned at the dark stain forming on his denim jeans. Way to go, Sam. Make people onboard think he wet himself. Stuffing wrinkled itinerary papers into her purse, she adjusted the tray table to its original position, and clicked on the button overhead for a stewardess.

"Aye, Ah 'ave a tendency to do that" he chuckled sheepishly to ease her apprehensive demeanor and watched her stand up unsteadily with the light sway of the plane. She tried to pass over his legs without brushing against them but it only caused her to lose her balance and down she fell onto the aisle. His blue eyes widened to her abrupt fall and he quickly called out in alarm, "Samantha!"

She slapped her hand against the blue carpeting with embarrassed fury at how crappy her plane ride was going and noticed a pair of feet stop by her side. Her gray eyes traced up the shapely legs and her lips curled upwards in a nervous smile at the boggled flight attendant to sweetly request, "Hi, I'm gonna need some paper towels and an Advil, please."

The feminine feet disappeared towards the front of the plane and she sighed at her clumsiness. Even the Earth's troposphere was against her. Ted didn't make it better when he leaned over in his seat from her side of the aisle and teased with an impish grin brightening his blue eyes, "No cluttering the aisle, Sam."

Stephen decided to do his gentlemanly duty and picked up the fallen woman by the arms to bring her to her knees effortlessly with his strength. He couldn't help but feel sympathy to her frenzied state and heard her mumble inaudibly under her breath as she leaned against the side of his seat. The movement of the plane dizzied her easily and Stephen pointed to the side of her mouth to politely inform with a small smile, "Samantha, yah have a little somethin' on yer mouth."

She groaned miserably in self-pity at being seen in that sleep deprived state by him of all people and furiously rubbed at the side of her mouth to wipe whatever spit remained. Yeah, a man like him would definitely find this appealing. Her day was getting worse by every time zone she passed and Samantha met the man's gaze to speak softly, "Thank you for telling me, Stephen."

Unfortunately, dry spit wasn't easy to rub off and Stephen stifled a chuckle (he didn't want to embarrass her further) as he cleared his throat uncomfortably and pointed to his own left cheek to hint gently, "Er, Sam?"

"Oh, c'mon!" she groaned glumly and grabbed his leftover drink off the armrest as she stood up on shaky legs to save what was left of her dignity. Dipping her fingers into it, she used it as alternative water to rub it over her cheek and drank the rest down despite his lips had been on it minutes ago to smack her lips, "Tis goin' down grand!"

Stephen could only blink his blue eyes at the woman's accented comment and tilted his head to the right, asking with both intrigue and confusion, "Where did yah learn that, Sam?"

She gave him back the glass with a polite thank you before collapsing into her seat to sigh away her newfound stress. Stephen simply placed the empty cup back on the tray and Samantha piped up her perky response, "Ted does a _lot _of bar imitations when drunk, you learn a few things. I bet he could tie the world record for most bars visited worldwide."

Giving him a sheepish smile, she suggested shyly to ward off any unintended sarcasm towards his accent, "You can mimic a Spanish accent too, well, Costa Rican style anyway. Just use a strong 'r' sound."

"Ah think Ile pass, Samantha" he declined to her soft-spoken offer since understanding American accents was enough trouble for him when he first arrived in the States. New York pretty much left him scratching his head with complete bafflement whenever he traveled there and tried to keep up with each individual way citizens spoke from coast to coast. His hand shifted the wet fabric of his pants and he excused himself with a polite smile, "Now, if yah don't mind, Ah have to change into new pants."

"Oh, I didn't mean to keep you-" she apologized quickly because she'd never want to waste anybody's time with random conversation but he stopped her with a raise of his hand.

"Breathe, Sam, an' relax" he advised gently with a friendly squeeze to her right shoulder which calmed her somewhat (while also giving a girlish flutter of her little heart) and grabbed his carry on bag to leave Samantha with an embarrassed blush.

_Oh, he'll never get near me again with my clumsiness, not even with a ten foot pole_, she thought dejectedly as her shoulders slumped to the logical assumption. Her fingers smoothed out the slight wrinkles in her blouse and she frowned, _I probably look a mess too._

The flight attendant came by to drop off the items she'd requested and Samantha smiled politely since she'd practically forgotten about it with all her frantic worry. Grabbing them into her hands, she gave a nod and asked curiously to a matter that picked at her mind, "Thank you. By the way, is there any chance you carry Toblerone's?"

"Sky Mall magazine" was the woman's pleasant reply and she smiled in triumph that they were in stock. She might have missed her chance back at the airport but here, the delicious chocolate had no escape.

"Cena money comes in handy" Samantha giggled evilly to her quick made cash of the day as she looked to the pocket of the chair in front of her to fish out said magazine. Flipping it open with a zesty grin, she began to peruse each page for interesting buys.

Stephen found her scribbling in the magazine when he returned with a new pair of black pants this time and hoped he wouldn't have to have another change mid-trip. It's not like he could blame the poor lass, she was simply modest and easily startled. The fast scribbling caught his ears once more and after stretching his spine, he sat down in his seat comfortably to ask with a friendly smile, "What're yah doing there, Sam?"

A wide smile lit up her oval face as the lethargy from before dissipated and she answered giddily, "Toblerone."

He gave her a puzzled glance along with a silent blink before asking hesitantly, "The. . .the chocolate?"

"Mm-hmm, blond John bought me one during my first work week when I told him I'd never tried one and I've been addicted since" she answered enthusiastically as she bookmarked the magazine page when it came time to buy (and buy, she would) and yawned from all of the hassle at the airport. Grabbing the pillow she'd stuffed into the corner of her seat, she glimpsed at Stephen and requested quickly, "Poke me when the attendants pass by. I think I'll sleep to some Enya-"

"What?" he asked in disbelief to her choice in music as she fiddled through her purse to find her media player. His blurt halted her search for the stubborn iPod and she couldn't help but smile at his perplexed face.

She gave him an amused expression before stating slyly with a grin, "What? You think just because I'm Hispanic, I'm expected to listen to Spanish music? Mr. Farrelly, you must know that Ireland has good vocalists in Celtic genre."

Samantha laughed as his pale cheeks tinted red against his porcelain skin and covered her mouth with a hand before she caused him to redden into a cherry. Life was full of misconceptions and she admitted easily, "Please, I listen to classical and vocal music more than anything, regardless of language. I tried bringing my brothers onboard. . .it didn't go over so well. My dad's into Peruvian and Caribbean rhythms this year so I'm sure he's driving them nuts. But seriously, haven't you heard Enya? The woman is phenomenal. Then you have Loreena McKennitt from Canada and Sarah McLachlan and. . ."

A large smile broke over his lips as he watched her count off every vocalist with her fingers but she soon ran out of them and shrugged her shoulders as she let the rest go for the moment. He'd assumed her meek demeanor would've had her siding with pop culture but he was obviously wrong and wondered what else her shy nature was hiding.

"Seems Ah need ta know more about yah then, Samantha" he chuckled to her honest ramblings and she fought her own blush this time when she caught his smile. It was practically infectious to her and she supplied her own as she purposely averted her gaze to finally grab her player. Otherwise, she was certain she'd make a verbal fluke and wanted to avoid ruining their conversation. Plain curiosity laced his voice when he asked aloud, "How many brothers do yah have?"

"Three" she admitted sullenly to her rambunctious siblings and hoped they weren't causing her parents grief with their antics. The first time she'd brought Mickie to meet them, the day she'd left Los Angeles, had her twin brothers kneeling loyally at her feet and declaring her their goddess for all time. That was enough to tell her to never bring any superstars by until the teenage boys got their act together. . .although she highly doubted that. She tapped her fingers against the armrest separating their seats and sulked with a pout, "You'd think my mom would've tried to give me a sister but dad says nobody can steal my spotlight as the girl of the family. Do you have any siblings?"

"Just a sister" he answered with the same glum expression reminiscent on her face and she gaped at the horrible irony before slumping into her seat.

"Lucky you" she commented wistfully, slightly envious that he had the gender of a sibling she'd wanted during youth. Life was indeed a strange tale of mysteries.

Stephen laughed to her frown since he never found having a sister interesting and combed his fingers through his spiky hair as he admitted amusingly, "_Lucky_? Not when Ah had to play tea parties an' dollies with Anne an' her friends. That an' she fancied using my mum's lipstick on me. Ah woke up on Christmas Day once wearing red lips an' blue eyeshadow. My mum still has that picture in our family albums."

"_Every _child around the world has one embarrassing picture mothers find cute, join the club" she joked lightheartedly to the similarities in life experiences despite being an ocean apart and he nodded in agreement to her statement. Samantha leaned into her seat as breakfast began to pass around the cabin by the flight attendants. She didn't care what people said about airline food, she was sleep deprived and starving; she didn't mind one bit how it tasted.

Stephen had barely passed the dish to her side when her eager fingers yanked it away to place it onto her table tray. He simply shook his head in amusement to her hunger and began to eat his meal quietly. Samantha's lips widened into a large grin at the hot food that pleased her sense of smell with its aroma and rubbed her hands together in eagerness to wolf it down. John whistled over to Samantha from his spot on the second row across from her with a grin of enticing compromise, "Trade my cheese packet for your fruit cup?"

She smiled at his boyish grin and instantly agreed, tossing the plastic fruit cup over to him with a smile to inform, "I think you're in luck, saw a couple of cherries in it this time."

Her left hand beckoned towards her end of the deal and she impishly piped up, "Now make with the cheese, Johnny boy."

Stephen stared awkwardly at both of them as the blond threw his offering in return and he leaned back before it struck him on the head but Samantha caught it perfectly with a peppy grin. She gave John a friendly wave of goodbye and smiled at Stephen to answer his unanswered but facially obvious question, "He likes his fruit and I like the little packaged cheeses during flight. It's a win-win for us."

"Yer all right, Sam" the redhead chuckled to the upbeat attitude of the woman and Samantha tried to destroy the warm fluttering in her stomach, silently replying with a pleased smile.

"Did you use your spork?" she asked curiously as her gray eyes peeked at his meal and he tilted his head to the bizarre question. Curiosity killed the cat but her quirkiness was intriguing him by the minute. Her index finger pointed towards the utensil and she explained matter-of-factly, "You can never have enough sporks for travel and they're handy at home, especially for noodle soups and nutty salads."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she piped up with contemplating wonder, "They never have them in markets nowadays. I bet it's a business conspiracy to keep the fork and spoon people in business."

Stephen couldn't help but laugh boisterously at her strange logic and handed her his unused plastic spork as a gift before grabbing his fork to resume eating his meal. He'd expected to have a lack of conversation with her when Nattie asked to exchange seats since she rarely sought him for friendly chatter. If at all, she seemed to avoid him but maybe it was just him. Now, the trip would be a little less tedious with her as a seat partner since she could apparently hold her own in conversation.

Her finger pointed to the plastic utensil he held and she lowered her voice to a hush to point out secretly, "See? The fork business got you."

His laugh grew in volume to her secretive tone and he decided to stop her amusing chatter before he choked on his food. Tapping her tray with his left hand, he ordered gently with a stifled laugh, "Eat yer meal, Sam."

* * *

"We have arrived!"

Randy shot a glare to a jet lagged Ted, who posed dramatically with his arms spread over his head, and hit his shoulder with the end of his duffle bag to knock him off balance with a smirk. Sighing aloud as to why he had to share a cab with him to get to the hotel, he pointed out rigidly, "Do you really have to say that in _every _building we enter?"

. . . "Yes, yes, I must."

Samantha stepped forward to leave the two in their bickering and walked up to the check-in counter of the hotel they would stay at for two nights. The trip had made her groggy, jumpy, and tired which caused her to slump over the counter to yawn out slowly, "Registrazione per Samantha Mora, Nattie Neidhart, Matthew Korklan, John Cena, Stephen Farrelly, Mike Mizanin. . ."

The woman's energy ran out and she dozed off in the middle of her sentence, switching from her learned Italian to her normal English, prompting Mike to step in and support the sleeping woman under his arm. He was mildly annoyed since he and practically _everybody _in their group told her to sleep rather than be a workaholic during the flight but alas, no. Instead, she'd stayed up chatting with Stephen until the two split their sides from laughing and caused Randy to wake which led to him throwing all of Ted's flung peanuts at them. He pointed to the other wrestlers behind him and informed aloud, "They'll finish the rest."

Ted managed to rip himself away from one argument with Randy to make another with Mike, "Hey, that's not fair! I'm not fluent in Italian!"

"Instead of throwing peanuts, you should've invested time in learning something" Randy pointed out sardonically with a haughty smirk and proceeded to check-in himself with his own broken Italian that he'd learned via his iPod's Podcast. Those things were conversation savers during international travel and he got to improve his intellect. Ted groaned aloud in misery, shaking his fists in annoyance and grabbed his bags to follow along while Mike pulled- more like dragged- the dozing woman away to her hotel room.

Samantha's body twitched before mumbling in her sleep, "Huh, yes, I'll take that coffee cake."

Mike simply shook his head as he muffled a soft chuckle to her incoherent murmurs and carried her onwards as if she was just another piece of luggage. He'd make sure she listened next time when it came to catching decent sleep instead of lollygagging with the others. If she couldn't take care of herself, he'd be there to scold some sense into her along with Cena. Hennigan usually let her slide on anything and have fun but not him.

"Make sure you place a chair against the outside knob so she doesn't escape!" John called out with advice since Samantha never stayed put in one spot and Mike nodded, giving him a two-finger farewell over his head in acknowledgment.

"Gotcha!"

Hours later, the small group had gathered in a nearby cozy restaurant to eat after sleeping off the jet-lag. . .well, everyone except Matthew, who was now wandering Rome on his own to explore with only a small English-Italian phrases book and pocket cash. The group had yet to hear from him and they hoped he hadn't ended up outside of Rome itself. That would mortify poor Samantha and she'd have to file a missing person's report while announcing it to the company. Not an easy task.

Ted flipped through the menu with a frustrated frown while Randy and John tried to ignore his incoherent mumbles that only grew louder in volume until he complained aloud, "I can't read this gibberish."

"Dude, it's a language known by over 100 _million _people" John stated matter-of-factly with a flat stare that caused the group to laugh and shook his head before reading down the beverage list.

_Beer's always nice_, he thought contently and kept reading onwards.

"That, and the English version is on the _opposite _side" Randy muttered with a nonchalant tone to strike the man's ego and it caused Ted to balk at missing the whole thing entirely.

_Maybe I should get my eyes checked_, he pondered for a moment because the last thing he needed was faulty vision in his job. He quickly flipped it over to check if Randy was indeed correct and sighed aloud in relief when he recognized the familiar letters, hugging the menu to his chest as he declared, "Sweet glory, it's English."

"Easy for yah to say, lad, some of us had to learn more than _one _language" Stephen stated aloud offhandedly as he tried to memorize some of the Italian dishes for easier translating during travel. He wanted to experience everything he could out of each city he visited, it was a privilege to travel so much in the first place and he would make the most out of it.

"Thank you!" Samantha piped up cheerfully while buttering a piece of bread to nibble on before ordering. Mike shot her a wry glance from his spot next to her at the table and she swallowed her bite with a rebellious face before declaring, "What? It's _free _bread, the bakers worked hard on it and I won't disappoint them. Plus, that flight gave me the munchies."

Nattie chuckled to herself since Samantha tended to save everything in sight whether organic or inorganic and reminded her friend playfully, "Remember, no liquids in your back pockets."

The dark-haired woman blushed in embarrassment to a past incident inside a cafe before jabbing a finger at Ted to remark with accusation, "He's the one who slammed the door on my butt and broke the maple syrup containers."

The blond man smiled cheekily before laughing aloud to that day, "Oh yeah, it looked like you peed yourself."

"Thank you, _Theodore_" Samantha shot back for the horrible embarrassment (hearing it just didn't make it easier) and knew he didn't like being called by his entire name. She innocently dodged a glare sent her way by pulling out her cell phone to log online to a currency converter website to make sure she wouldn't overspend but the euro was the euro, what could you say?

_My dollar barely makes one euro_, she thought miserably to her saved spending money but shrugged it off. _That's the way the economy works._

TJ grinned enthusiastically as he placed down his menu and broke the moment of silence to announce, "I'm having spaghetti-"

"Spaghetti? _Spaghetti_? You're in Italy, the heart of true Italian cuisine and you're getting _spaghetti_?" Natti grilled incredulously to his choice in food while her boyfriend tried to slide by with an innocent grin that did nothing to faze the fire in her eyes.

"I talked David into it" he added in to cement his choice against her wrath and the other man quickly shook his head to distance himself away from the volatile conversation. David wasn't about to become the mangled innocent bystander for a plate of spaghetti. No, sir!

"I'm just a man that's hungry, I'm not looking for any trouble" he stated anxiously to his cousin with a higher nervous hitch in his voice and used the menu to cover his face from sight. Nattie dismissed her relative's attempt to hide behind paper and David sighed in relief that he'd been spared.

"You're going to order a dish you never heard of and _love _it" she ordered with a nonnegotiable tone and shook her finger at TJ for emphasis that her request wouldn't be denied. That is, if he wanted to sleep in a warm bed tonight and not the lobby's lumpy cold couch.

TJ conceded his choice of food and closed his eyes, trailing his finger down the list blindly to pick an item until he stopped on a random name. Tilting his head to the right, he asked aloud for clarification, "What's 'lista di vino'?"

"The wine list" Samantha replied with an amused smile to his blind pick and some of the others sniggered at the choice. She let him make his own decision since she didn't want to endure Nattie's wrath if she translated a garden salad and fiddled with a pale pink flower to occupy her time.

"Maybe you should order off the English side" John suggested simply before the man ordered something he didn't know and it horribly backfired on him.

Of course, TJ being TJ, he wanted to impress his girlfriend and returned to his blind pick until he declared proudly to the unknown choice, "Casu marzu! Something, something, something- imported from Sardinia."

Everybody eyed each other warily to whatever he ordered and watched him summon the waiter with a frantic hand wave that had Nattie hiding her face in similar fashion to David. Eventually, each of them ordered their respective dishes and waited for the orders patiently. . .well, except for Ted, who used his utensils to create music until Randy snatched them away to ward off a headache.

Samantha placed the flower she'd fiddled with into the breast pocket of Mike's cobalt blue dress shirt and smiled proudly at shortening the stem into a boutonnière. To most people, they would've given the impression of a couple but she only saw him as an older brother that watched after her since she tended to overlook anything that wasn't business related. Nattie chuckled to her creation and briefly wondered if her friend would freak if she sent one to Stephen via a waiter.

_No, it'll probably embarrass her in public_, she thought carefully and began to craft yet another plan since her airplane seat idea ended with the two laughing instead of smooching. Then again, progress was progress.

Mike's shoulders slumped to the friendly gift since she was always kind towards him (unless he did something stupid) and he sighed with defeat to groan out, "Okay, you can have your free bread."

One by one, each member of the group received their orders as the warm food steamed with delectable aromas of herbs and marinades. . .until TJ's dish was served. Samantha's, Nattie's, David's, John's, Randy's, Stephen's, Mike's, and especially Ted's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as they stared down at the man's special dish.

Stephen's face became even _more _paler, if possible, as he spoke slowly in shocked disbelief, _"__Ó__ mo-"_

"That is unholy!" Ted declared with what ran through everyone's minds but John threw a leftover cloth napkin at his face to quiet him. Everyone in the restaurant turned towards the loud blond sitting in the corner while John hoped he hadn't blown their inconspicuousness in the city. He didn't want to experience the airport incident all over again inside a restaurant since security was nonexistent there.

"Indoor voice, man" John reminded firmly to not cause any more scenes while TJ sunk in his seat at his botched meal. Everybody had dishes that pleased their visual palate but TJ's was neither in any of the senses known to man.

Nattie decided to read what he'd ordered on the English side and used her phone to Google the dish, blanching slightly at the results as she read aloud, "A Sardinian dish of sheep milk cheese, notable for being riddled with live insect larvae, fermenting it clear of fat until left extremely soft-"

"And full of live larvae!" Ted interrupted loudly and finished the explanation as he saw the little white larvae wriggling within the round cheese on TJ's plate. Randy decided this was the time to use the complimentary bread roll and stuffed it into Ted's open mouth in the hopes of silencing him for a few minutes. Otherwise, he might have to make a dash for the bathroom and empty his stomach.

After the horror of staring down at the whitish yellow cheese, David snickered to his stunned friend and prodded him on the side to preen teasingly, "Eat up, buddy."

TJ turned two shades whiter at the idea of eating that and Nattie scolded her cousin sharply with a heated glare, "David, he's _not _going to eat that!"

"It's a delicacy" he insisted with a huge grin at the amusing turn of events but highly doubted TJ would actually eat it. Frankly, he was still trying to get over the sight itself and mentally shuddered. Why didn't his friend just order like a normal person?. . .Right, he kept trying to impress his cousin.

Ted finally pried the bread roll out of his mouth, slamming it down on the table, and declared instantly with a wild grin brightening his features, "Fifty bucks says you _do_."

"I'll add in a twenty" Randy added in to see where this would lead and crossed his arms over his broad chest with curiosity. Most of the time he disagreed with Ted's craziness but there were rare opportunities when he would. This seemed to be one of them.

"Same here. . .well, until I find an ATM!" Mike betted, breaking away from his usually calm stance, but Samantha smacked his bicep for trying to get in on the action that would probably result with the poor wrestler hospitalized with indigestion. She could see this kind of thing coming from Ted, John H., Adam, and maybe Matthew but not Mike. . .well, unless he was pulled along unwillingly.

TJ began to ponder the crazy suggestion since it was almost one hundred dollars in cash but Nattie snapped her fingers in front of his face to snap him out of it and snapped assertively, _"No!"_

"If at all, the money will go to his hospital bill for pumping his stomach" John pointed out logically to the most likely result and began to eat his food before it became cold. To help his appetite, he refused to look at the cheese and smiled at his fork that had pierced fettuccini pasta onto it and smacked his lips, "Mmm, that's damn good pasta."

Samantha, who was happily nibbling away at some tortellini, piped up helpfully with a smile, "Maybe if you take out the maggots, it'll be good. We can never be too ethnocentric and cheese is always coagulated with bacter. . ."

Her words died away when everyone stared at her awkwardly and she darted her eyes back down to her meal, her beige cheeks darkening as she mumbled sheepishly, "Never mind."

"Oh. . .my- Ah!" Ted shrieked, a little too feminine in voice, when one of the little maggots jumped onto his face and he instantly flicked it off as if it were acid. Grabbing his cloth, he wiped his left cheek furiously as he growled with dramatic despair but honest disgust, "Augh, it _touched _me! I've been sullied! Sullied, you hear me?"

Samantha covered the plate with one of the cloth napkins before anybody else was struck by the little maggot projectiles (although secretly, it was funny to see Ted shriek) and Nattie spoke up nervously to address them, "Are we all in agreement that this dish be returned?"

"_Yes!"_

Mike slapped the back of Samantha's hand as she tried to sneak bread rolls into her purse and reprimanded exasperatedly, "Stop that. You're going to have pests in your room and luggage if you bring it home."

"But they're going to be thrown out anyway, I might as well take them to the vineyard as snacks" she objected with a small pout to her packrat nature and jabbed a finger in Ted's direction, "You didn't say anything about his pepper packets which he uses on everybody when they sleep," she brightened up at that and alerted sweetly, "Stephen, Randy, you might want to check your underwear when you return to make sure there's no fiery pepper in there."

"Sam, you ruined my prank!" Ted protested instantly to her intentional slip of the tongue and threw his pepper packets back onto the table. He'd have no need of them anymore for the prank and crossed his arms like a tantrum child that lost his favorite toy. Samantha simply grinned enthusiastically and reached forward to grab the packets herself for hoarding but Mike yanked her hands away.

"Bad Sam!"

* * *

**A/N**: Turns out that I had to break the chapter into two chapters because it was just too long so next time, you'll see the vineyard adventure. As for TJ's casu marzu, I got the idea off the 'strangest foods of the world' list since the group was in Italy so yeah. The group simply experienced extreme culture shock in food choices, except for Sam, who tried to give it a chance but I incorporated the likely choice since they're not from around the area. Thanks to each of you who put the story on alert and for your reviews, I appreciate your feedback:

_LMDxCenaxOrtonxCullen_: True, with the way crowds cheer at him in every show, an airport mauling isn't far. And yes, that Irishman sure needs his share of lovin'. lol.

_WWE Superstar Fanatic_: Unfortunately, the polite Sam is of Costa Rican descent. I rarely read any OC characters with international backgrounds (I love learning and writing about other cultures) and since Sheamus is Irish, why not? Plus, their whole trip around the world will have them learning new things. . .well, except maybe Ted who's more likely to blow up something.

_Blood's Thicker Than Bullets_: Thanks for loving the story!

_Lynnie Vicious_: I'm glad you loved the last line. I kept fiddling with whether to have Randy say 'Raw will be right back' or 'Randy Orton sponsors this'. I hoped I didn't take out the last air in your lungs with this chapter but the hilarity will ensue.

_AnaMariePage_: Thanks for the nice comment and I'm glad my writing skill pleases your eyes. Yes, this story will be full of comedy since I don't want the story centered on the OC only while the Stephen/Sam fluff comes in later chapters.

_Alice_: There's no way I'll ever make good Sam into a Mary Sue so thanks for loving the way my story's constructed. Sorry for the late update but I try to make my chapter's long (I hate short chapters). lol.

_Mandamirra10_: Yes, I'm glad you love each of the characters and I'll vary them in each chapter. I love Edge so I'll be using him in the next chapter for hilarity purposes. Sam's pretty down to Earth but she can be kooky in her own way since I can't have a one-dimensional character with the appealing traits of a rock.

* * *

**And a small taste of Chapter 5's 'Mike, The Wandering Hero'**:

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing" Mike insisted as he glanced at each of them and shook his shoulders to start off his search for aid. After this, he could add 'hero rescues lost professional wrestlers' to his resume. Yes, that sounded quite nice.

Samantha scurried over and grasped his left arm to fuss worriedly, "What if a mountain lion attacks you? Or a snake bites you? Or you break your ankle? Or heatstroke happens-"

"Thank you!" Adam exclaimed in agreement for the nay vote but Mike wasn't hearing any of it. Samantha knew she sounded like her dear ol' mom but this time, the statistics were stacked against him. Adam tried to find a signal one last time with his phone but got squat which led to him stuffing it into his pocket. More irritation might have him chucking it over the vineyard.

With a goodbye wave of hand, Mike set out towards the left in whatever direction it was located on Earth. Samantha wringed her fingers together but wound up scrunching up the back of Stephen's shirt accidentally, releasing it until he cleared his throat politely and she scurried off to stand next to Nattie. Ted ran forward to call out desperately to his departing colleague, "If you find help, order me a burger with fries!. . .And a bucket of fried chicken- _medium _spicy!"

"I'm not a drive-in box, asshole!" Mike yelled back from across the field and Ted shook a fist at the fading speck that was known as The Miz. Samantha hoped she wouldn't have to file a missing person report on her friend but most importantly, that he didn't get mauled to death in the wild.

The blond man crossed his arms to snort at the air, using it as a defensive shield to hide his worry over his friend as well, and whistled aloud, "Well, he's a goner."


	5. Mike, The Wandering Hero

CHAPTER 5:

**Mike, The Wandering Hero  


* * *

**

"And here we have. . ."

Adam Copeland raised a curious eyebrow to Matthew's nonstop scribbling as they made up the front of the tour group in one of the vineyards outside of Rome. The drive was a little far but they managed to get a good fuel-efficient van to pack in their small group as every wrestler headed off in their own direction for the day to explore during their stay in Rome. Tomorrow, they would hit Florence to meet up with the third group that roamed the country.

Next to Matthew, Samantha and Nattie took a picture of practically anything in sight to show it off back home and keep in a scrapbook (well, Samantha would). Adam withheld a small sigh to the other man's loud scribbling that was growing louder by the minute and questioned bluntly, "Do you really have to write everything? It's a tour, man."

"Yeah, but when am I going to be in _Italy _again to see it firsthand?" Matthew replied eagerly to his new knowledge on winemaking as he continued jotting everything down. Adam simply sighed again since wine wasn't his thing; put a beer in hand and he'd be set for the day.

Meanwhile, Ted kept using Stephen and Randy as his sleeping posts because all he wanted to do was head outdoors for freedom and sip some wine. Like he'd told the group, 'you guys can stay, but my brain's outta here' and he meant every word of it.

Mike, who was reading a pamphlet about the vineyard to learn something new (but not with the same zest as Matthew) ignored the other men behind him. Getting involved would only cause him a migraine, especially when Ted was in the center of the scuffle, and decided to play the deaf man. Unfortunately, a snicker broke from his lips when he overheard Stephen's sharp remark, "Did yah _slobber _on me, fella?"

"Um. . .what response suits you?" Ted spoke up slowly with caution to make sure no sudden movements angered the Irishman as he tried to glance away from the dark damp blotch he left on the man's t-shirt. The other man noticed his sudden fascination with a certain spot on his shirt and Stephen's brows furrowed in irritation when he saw the blotch at the start of his shoulder. Ted realized he was two seconds away from a black eye and scattered to the wind with a yelping, "Gih!"

The blond was lucky at squeezing through the open gaps in the crowd but Stephen was blocked off at giving chase when the pockets closed quickly by other tourists. Randy chuckled to himself and told the other wrestler good-humouredly, "Don't worry, I'm sure we can dump the body in one of the fields. Nobody will notice."

The two men were rapidly shushed by Matthew, who found everything exciting and wasn't about to miss a word. Adam, on the other hand, was growing drowsier by the monotone tour guide with each passing second, and decided to head towards the nearby gift shop to buy something for his dear ol' mom. At least there, he'd be spared from the tedious lecture and could probably buy a book about it.

By the third shift of the tour group, everyone had joined Adam inside the gift shop with the exception of Matthew, Nattie, and TJ (who'd been unwillingly pulled along by the iron grip of his girlfriend). Ted snored away his second nap on a bench next to Samantha, who was being used as a human pillow while she drank from a water bottle. It was the only thing allowed inside the place and she wasn't about to get drunk halfway through the trip because she was certain that Randy, their designated driver, would not adhere to his promise. After two outings in Sacramento and Atlanta where he practically plowed drivers off the highway in a hot ruby Hummer while Hennigan rode shotgun with the same lively behavior, she was allowed to keep a vigilant eye out.

Mike glanced at her as he perused through a stand of post cards and pointed out dryly in regards to their friend, "You know, you _could _just kick him away."

Samantha chuckled to his cruelty but then again, this was the men's way of brotherly 'love' as they called it so she'd simply humor him. She smiled politely as she patted Ted's sleeping head to playfully state, "Nah, he's actually kind of adorable in that pesky cousin way when he's knocked out."

Randy's deep voice overlapped in the background noise as he praised, "All right, beer mugs in a vineyard. It's about damn time."

She sighed morosely under her breath, already imagining the poor drivers Randy would honk at to get off _his_ road, and glanced pointedly at her blond friend to flatly demand, "Please don't tell me you're all going back drunk."

"Sam, you should know by now that we _can't _and most likely _won't _promise that" Mike stated matter-of-factly to his friends drinking behavior (they were in a vineyard, after all) as he meticulously chose his souvenirs in post cards, purposely ignoring the glare she sent his way. She expected Randy and Mike to take control of the group since they were the most level-headed but if the two were in agreement with the others. . .shame on her for coming along.

"Yeah!"

Mike jumped back to the new voice that broke into their conversation, resisting natural instinct to punch at the intruder when he saw Anthony Carelli literally explode from a rack of t-shirts with the vineyard's logo. Samantha grabbed her belongings instinctively with an alarmed yelp as Anthony posed dramatically like a gymnast off their dismount. Meanwhile, Ted only snored louder with no interruption, lightly punching her thigh as if it was his pillow.

Mike stared blankly in surprise to the grinning Canadian man in front of him before exclaiming defensively, "Don't you know not to sneak up on people?"

"But you're friends, that's entirely different" the dark-haired man dismissed good-naturedly and proceeded to peruse through the same stand he'd popped out from. Mike was about to question him on the strange entrance that had practically put him on danger alert but Anthony was already mumbling distractedly to himself, "Now what to get _i miei cari nipoti anziani_."

Randy's boisterously deep voice popped up again to declare, "Hot damn, little wine bottles for key chains. . .with wine _inside_!"

"And I here thought Disney park gift shops were the only place that wanted to suck your wallets dry" she sighed in dismay to the shopping going on within the shop but she'd wait till later because she was sure another one would pop up eventually to distract them yet again. Suddenly remembering that Anthony hadn't come with their group, she furrowed her brow to ask curiously, "Say Anthony, how'd you get here?"

The wrestler smiled proudly as he turned away from the clothing racks to reply, "I _drove_, Italy's my home away from home-"

"I thought it was Japan?" Mike cut in dryly as he moved to a rotating stand with key chains and spun it for mild amusement. He liked doing that as a kid when he waited with boredom in stores with his mother and still found himself interesting in doing it.

Anthony shooed him away with a swat of his hand for interrupting his conversation and retorted smartly, "That was for work."

"Same thing" the blond justified while Samantha rolled her eyes to the men's verbal duel about who was right. She assumed their testosterone would be lowered after all the wrestling they did in front of cameras but no, there was still enough to go around outside the job.

"Pipe down or you'll wake my overgrown baby" she ordered to stop their bickering and motioned to the sleeping Ted, who kept kicking at the air as he fought whatever was in his dreams. Samantha was certain she overheard a nightmarish mumble about sock puppets before the man muffled his voice against her teal handbag. Sock puppets, huh?

"Isn't that a little cruel?" Adam joked from his nearby spot as he read an informative decorative wall that was much better than the tour guide. He was better at visual learning anyway and could multitask by reading it while simultaneously picking on the unaware sleeping Ted.

Stephen's accented voice broke in to remark incredulously from the other side of the of the shop, "Says the man that _didn't _get slobbered on."

Samantha found it hard to figure out where the others were due to the obscuring store cases and Randy finally popped into view with his black shirt and denim jeans. He didn't hesitate to join the teasing and poked Stephen's bad luck, "By the end of this trip, your change of clothes will be gone. You should get hired for a detergent advertisement with all the washing you have to do. You're probably their 1 customer."

"Randy! You're not supposed to exploit me!" Samantha shot back embarrassedly to the fact that she'd caused most of Stephen's mishaps thus far and jabbed a finger in Ted's direction. The blond demon was already enough for her to handle off the job and pointed out flatly, "That's already _his _job."

"Giant donuts with fu-u-u-u-udge!" the sleeping blond suddenly declared excitedly and quieted down as if it never happened, slumping against Samantha to continue snoring. She fought the urge to record the man on camera for future blackmail purposes as moral principles won out.

They all stared in silence to the sudden outburst until Randy took control of the situation (which Samantha was thankful for) and ordered their group, "Okay, let's hit the outside. Stephen, Anthony, you're playing baby carrier for today."

"What?" the redhead objected instantly with a flabbergasted look to being demeaned by carrying Ted around like a baby. He came to enjoy a vineyard on his day off, not lag around a blond man-child.

"The fu-" Anthony was about to finish the previous man's exclamation but Samantha expertly squirted water into his eye from her seat. She wasn't about to have them cussing left and right with children around the area and innocently smiled. Anthony held his right eye with an, "Ow!"

Randy didn't acknowledge the protests from both men but nodded to her intervention before a ruckus erupted. While the Canadian held his abused eye and the Irishman shot him a defiant glare, Randy explained his reasoning smugly, "One, he's scared of flaming red hair for some unknown reason. Two, you can fake not understanding language by telling him he's still in a dream induced state and probably make him embarrass himself. And three, I just plain ol' don't feel like doing it myself."

The wrestler turned around with his confident posture and with his head held high, carried his bag of souvenirs off with an arrogant, "Bon voyage, suckers!"

Stephen and Anthony groaned aloud, but mostly the Canadian since he never expected to tag along unwillingly with the group and cursed his luck. Stephen was giving him a dangerous stare that dared him to ditch him on the task and it froze his hot Italian bloodstream from fleeing the field.

"Wow, Randy's good at manipulation" Samantha commented impressively to the way he'd made the two take charge of Ted (which meant she was free) and sipped her water bottle but froze when both of them stared at her dead on. She flinched to being their new target and innocently defended herself, "Don't look at me. I'm just an innocent bystander."

* * *

In the end, they pulled along the other members of their group out of the tour and had reluctantly allowed an enthusiastic Matthew to tell them everything he learned while they wandered the vineyard. To the rest, it was simply a grape filled field that couldn't be picked no matter how tasty it looked while Matthew reveled the whole area. Frankly, they were lucky enough to have a costly but thankfully unescorted pass to roam the entire place so Samantha would be sticking to them like glue to make sure nothing happened. Sometimes she wondered why their crazy adventures didn't wind up in the televised scripts after all the insanity she'd endured.

Unfortunately, their good deed of letting Matthew yammer on his new knowledge allowed them to forget _where_ they wandering. Now, they were trying to find the paths they'd taken before they became truly lost in the large fields of grapes while Matthew sulked that he'd brought everything _but _a map. Phones were practically useless there with no signals and despite all the applications Adam had on his fancy phone, he couldn't find one that would get them out of a jam. Here is where the group finds themselves as they travel the open areas while hoping wildlife is void there to steer clear of any serious dangers.

"Hey, a lizard!" TJ exclaimed giddily since that little reptile was the only exciting thing he'd seen for the last twenty minutes. Frankly, the sight of endless grapes was making him a little nauseous and he'd praise the heavens if they dropped an apple tree nearby. He was about to make a grab for the green little creature as it nestled near the edges of a bush but Nattie pulled him back by a hard yank on his right ear. Her boyfriend didn't hesitate on exclaiming painfully, "Ow!"

He rubbed his sore earlobe as the pain traveled down the back of his neck and miserably muttered to himself, "I should've gone with David to the Leaning Tower of Pisa."

"Well, you didn't" his girlfriend shot back matter-of-factly to his sour mood and ushered for him to walk forward, earning him humiliation when the other men imitated whipping noises. The blond woman turned around to face them head on and snapped coldly, "Need I remind that I _do _have a belt and I'm _not _afraid to use it on a grown man?"

The noises ceased like an old record scratching on its player and was quickly followed by nonchalant whistling noises as they dispersed around the area. Ted, who was now fresh as a daisy, grabbed Matthew's water bottle from the side of his backpack when he wasn't looking and proceeded to guzzle it down without a care that it was somebody else's property. Samantha, however, saw it as unfair to poor Matthew who was trying to conserve his water and scolded shrilly, "Ted! Put that back!"

Matthew turned around instantly, abruptly halting his study of the wine grapes and gaped for a moment at the blond's audacity. Ted simply kept drinking the water without a care as his colleague watched him and Matthew clenched his fists before arguing sharply, "Stealing is a crime, you know."

"Like you're going to turn me in for a $1 water bottle?" Ted scoffed sarcastically to the threat but handed it back to halt anyone else from whining. Matthew, however, simply let him have it to prevent any microbacterial spreading.

"It cost way more than that haircut" Matthew rebuffed easily to his careless tone since he did steal _his _property and wagged a finger at Ted. With a voice of warning, he reprimanded the blond with a harsh reminder, "And stop using people's stuff. You'll end up giving us jock itch again."

"Augh!" the men grimaced disgustedly in remembrance to that specific incident of months prior and all of it being Ted's fault.

Nattie's nose wrinkled to that private fact of theirs which would've been a big help if she didn't have to know about it in the first place. Hoping her boyfriend hadn't caught any of that, she demanded sharply, "Could you keep this in men talk? Sam and I do _not _want to know what goes on in sweaty man land."

"Yeah, well, no one wants to know about makeup land!" Ted shot back smartly to defend his manhood and nodded self-assuredly but the other men didn't agree, their mouths mumbling out a muffled 'yeah' or a cough. Obviously, they didn't want to face the wrathful Nattie and decided to escape with silence. The blond shook his fist at them for being left on his own and shouted with betrayal in his voice, "Fine, ditch me, you scabs!"

Mike jabbed a thumb in the man's direction and joked to the others, "Hey, if we let him yap on, help will find us with his loud voice serving as a beacon."

Nattie rolled her eyes to the men jabbering on while they were lost in who knows where and headed off on her own to find the end of the dizzying aisle they were currently standing in. If they didn't seem to care about the fact that they were _lost_, then she'd take matters into her own hands. Samantha, Matthew, and TJ followed along diligently since they'd rather take their chances with the level-headed Nattie than. . .well, any of the men burping out the alphabet back there.

"I'm pretty sure the tour guide will know we haven't left so they're bound to find us" Matthew piped up optimistically toward their chances of rescue and kept flashing his camera around to cheer himself up. He wasn't the type to let something hold him down and always looked to the brighter side of things.

Behind them, Ted suggested his own means of salvation by announcing confidently, "I say we find a clearing and park Stephen smack in the middle of it. His hair's bound to draw attention!"

"Don't be an arse" Stephen refused sharply to being left alone to play scarecrow and beacon all in one. He agreed to come in order to enlighten his mind and although he was in the same boat as the others, he wasn't about to do anything that popped into mind as a means for salvation. Anyone who listened to Ted's ideas would regret it by the next morning.

The blond scoffed sardonically to having his idea denied (he _was _the only one thinking at the moment) and bluntly pointed out, "Hey, I'm not the one with the redheaded dominance in genetics, pal. If my hair was flaming red, lime green, neon pink-"

"I _dare _you to suggest it!" Nattie yelled back from up ahead and everyone found themselves surprised to her keen hearing. They were almost inclined to call her Superwoman at this point.

Ted shot the woman a glare from his sitting spot for being interrupted so rudely but continued with a casual tone, "I'd do it myself but I don't. Let's go, Stephen."

The redheaded giant didn't move because he would fight the stupid idea the whole way through and could see that nobody was eager to agree with Ted. The younger man crossed his arms defensively, blowing a careless raspberry between his lips before scoffing wryly, "So much for teamwork. If we never get rescued and our rotting carcasses are pecked at by vultures, I want you to know. . .it's all _your _fault, Stephen."

A small brown pebble landed on his shoulder and the guilty hurler, Samantha, defended sharply, "He'll get horribly sunburned out there. Fair complexions are practically ice cream under the sun. It can lead to melanomas from UV exposure and-"

"Don't worry, Samantha, Ahm not doin' it" Stephen interrupted quickly to ease her worries about him melting out there and aimed a decent glare at the blond. Ted wasn't about to waste his energy on wrestling the irritated Irishman and decided to fiddle through his pockets for leftover candy to chew on. It was better to taste refined sugar and high fructose corn syrup than dirt and blood any day.

"So much for that brave Irish pride" the blond muttered under his breath but groaned the next second when Stephen knocked him upside the head. He really should have watched if he'd left first but Stephen had taken full advantage of the opening and smirked when Ted exclaimed, "Ow!"

"Can't say that close-minded American stereotype was wrong" the Irishman shot back smugly to the silenced man who nursed his broken pride but half of the people there turned to glare at him. Stephen realized he'd made a faux pas with his American bred colleagues and quickly restated what he meant by jabbing a thumb in Ted's direction, "By that, Ah meant 'im."

While the American argued with the Irishman, one blond Canadian decided to check his phone as he used it like sonar tracking for a satellite signal. He kept getting a measly bar but it died the second he moved it. . .or when he didn't. Damn his cell phone company's false advertising! Letting out a frustrated groan as he resisted from flinging his phone across the fields, Adam grumbled under his breath, "There's probably spam satellites blocking my phone signal out there."

"Great, just what we need, space pollution" Samantha sighed miserably and crossed her arms, leaning against Matthew's arm tiredly, who was leaning on TJ while the bald wrestler leaned on his girlfriend. It was surprising how much of a strong statue Nattie could be and Samantha stood upright to get some of the weight off, sighing aloud tiredly, "We already have enough Ted pollution."

Ted was about to launch a dramatic rebuttal since it seemed to be 'Pick On Ted Day' but Adam suddenly exclaimed hopefully, "There's a bar!. . .C'mon."

He wiggled the phone in the air like a madman to read it and quickly told the group, "The higher it is, the better the reception. If only I could raise it high enough. . ."

Randy, the group's genius, put his neurons to work and put a plan into action. Ted was about to suggest that Adam climb a tall tree nearby for a signal but Randy beat him to it by suggesting his plan to everyone, "Here's the plan. Tallest gets the signal. Stephen-"

"Why the eff do Ah have to do everythin'?" the redhead demanded tiredly, rolling his shoulders with slight irritation for being in the spotlight, but reluctantly agreed to do it. What else did he have to lose? He snatched Adam's phone without another word as the blond man quickly warned that it was expensive and that his insurance needed to be renewed.

Samantha's mind became lit to add onto Randy's plan as her own neurons began to run on the mental hamster wheel and piped up, "Adam, you should climb on his shoulders to double the height-," she stopped when all the men glanced at her awkwardly, "What?"

"Sammy, men aren't comfortable with too close personal boundaries like that" Mike explained slowly with an uncomfortable glance and she shot him a glare for the sudden worry over breaching personal space. If they weren't found, they'd dehydrate and probably die next to one another anyway. He raised his hands as a sign of defense and pointed out, "Don't blame me, it's the rule of society!"

"This, from the men who wrestle each other half-naked each week and use such moves?" she sighed in disbelief to the apparent manly code they were adamant on defending by the look on each of their faces and pinched the bridge of her nose. Honestly, this 'bro' code was harder to decipher than an Egyptian hieroglyph. Well, that only left two women to man up to the job and turned to her friend, "Fine, Nattie-"

The blond decided to use this to her advantage in the matchmaking ploy and fanned her face as she faked a tired sigh, "I'm a bit lighteheaded from the sun-"

TJ unknowingly decided to be captain obvious to what his girlfriend was saying and remarked casually, "But you're in the shade- oof! My stomach."

Samantha stared at poor TJ, who now held his stomach painfully and leaned against a sturdy bush, while Nattie flexed her right arm. Returning to the innocent fanning of her face, she took on the sickly expression that was gone just a second prior and told the group, "It's best that Sam goes. She's flexible-"

"So are you" TJ piped up innocently as he caught his second wind but unfortunately, received another punch to the gut for interfering. He held his abused abdomen and lowered his chin to his chest as he groaned aloud, "Ow! My pancreas."

While everybody sent a sympathetic glance to poor TJ, who was hunched over, Stephen handed Samantha the phone to get it over with. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously as he kneeled and she hopped uneasily onto his wide shoulders, trying not to let skin contact bother her. Becoming red like a cherry was not a good color in their current temperature and concentrated on taking the bar readings, trying to shove aside the feel of his hands on her thighs-

_Stop it, Sam! This is not the time to get the schoolgirl blush!_, she chastised herself because it was simply nonsexual skin contact and slowly waved the phone in a few directions but saw no change.

"What if I put it high in the air? Will it beep an alert so I can dial an emergency number?" she asked aloud, using Stephen's head as a rider would her horse's saddle to keep a grip. The Irishman didn't seem to happy on having his crimson hair flattened and yanked, silently cursing in Gaelic when Adam stated that his phone wasn't that fancy. Her fingers patted his messy hair in an attempt to fix it and Samantha smiled widely to remark impressively, "Hey, it's not razor blade sharp like I thought."

"_Sam" _Mike reprimanded with a small sigh to her newest discovery and the dark-haired woman uttered a sheepish 'whoops' before raising the phone into the air in the hopes of getting something.

She thinned her lips when nothing alerted her from the phone and waved it around to see if it attracted a sign from somewhere. Anywhere! Her fingertips held on tightly as she tried to get the highest position possible but it did nothing. Even the best of phones couldn't thwart mother nature and she shook her head to suggest to the group, "Maybe we need to get higher. I'm not getting anything."

Stephen sighed depressingly to playing the mule and getting absolutely nothing in solution to their problem. He could feel Samantha's fingertips tapping against the top of his head and came up with his own plan for a change, "Put yer feet in mah hands so Ah can give yah a boost. It should give yah a few inches of height."

"I could also fall, Stephen" she pointed out fearfully because meeting the floor and getting a face full of dirt was not an exciting prospect. Coming back to the states with two missing front teeth would be embarrassing enough. On the other hand, death by dehydration and the cold of night wasn't any better either. Stephen didn't seem to want to take 'no' for an answer (probably because the scarecrow part could come true due to desperation) and regrettably agreed. Reluctantly, she placed her feet in his hands and actually felt like an equestrian when she stood shakily to raise the phone into the air. His hands kept a firm grip on her feet (her size 6 feet fit easily in his palms) as he raised her higher into the air with his strength. Sustaining the weight was nothing for Stephen since Sam weighed half of what the other wrestlers (excluding the women who were lighter) did.

Seconds flew by and after a minute, nothing happened. If at all, the only thing happening was a battery drain within the phone from normal usage.

"Higher" she piped up for a last attempt and Stephen proceeded to stand on his tiptoes to boost her up further. To the rest of the group, they began to appear comical as Ted snickered that they reminded him of amateur ballet dancers. A smack to the head from Randy stopped it while Samantha hissed under her breath at the negative readings, pointing her index finger into the air to declare, "Nothing. Higher, Mr. Farrelly!"

"It's Stephen" he reminded her with a tired face as the heat painted his porcelain cheeks a doll-like pink while his hair became matted around his forehead. He grabbed her by the waist this time to hoist her higher but it only served to unsettle her at the sudden change of height and loss of stability.

"S-Steph-" she blurted as she wiggled to find a bar on the phone and lost her balance, dipping forward suddenly by the torso. Her fingers grasped a full hand of spiky red hair that caused him to exclaim aloud to the sudden pull as she tried to balance herself. By this time, Ted was using his own phone to take pictures for use as blackmail later. The redhead could only shift Samantha backwards to prevent falling forward himself but it only caused him to fully throw the poor woman backwards with his strength.

Samantha yelped in alarm when she suddenly found herself falling through mid-air but Mike, being ever so handy, simply caught her as he stood nearby. The dark-haired woman was instantly relieved to being helped and ordered her beating jackhammer of a heart to calm down. Stephen, however, wasn't so lucky and fell flat on his back with nobody to help him. . .not that the men even tried.

"High. . .er- _bleh_" she mumbled deliriously as her hand instinctively waved the phone again and a second later, slumped in Mike's arms like a limp noodle. Adam dove for his phone when it slipped from her fingers and quickly pocketed it before it was busted and he was out of three hundred bucks and whatever replacement fees they pinned him with.

Stephen rubbed the back of his throbbing head as he sat upright and shot each of his colleagues (except Nattie who actually tried to help but couldn't reach him in time) a dark scowl. Great, now he'd need some aspirin to get rid of the pain and growled under his breath before remarking tartly at all of them, "Thanks for _helping _meh, fellas!"

"No problem" Ted laughed sarcastically to the fallen man but turned sullen the next second to their current predicament. Humor just didn't overcome the fact of being lost and he didn't hesitate to point out bluntly, "Face it, we're lost and gonna starve to death-"

"We're not starving to death" Adam argued sardonically with a drawl to the improbability and snorted to grin smugly, "But if we do, _you're _the first to go if you know what I mean."

Samantha became instantly alert to that comment.

"I know they call you the Rated R superstar but cannibalism is too extreme!" Samantha declared dramatically to his joke and jumped out of Mike's arms to grab a hold of Adam's left. As her favorite wrestler, Samantha felt it was her right as any loyal fan to make sure he didn't do anything too crazy in public and objected with a shake of her head, "No, if they take you away to jail, who will I ogle on Monday Night Raw? Who will I cheer for while eating nachos? It _certainly _isn't going to be Ted!"

"Hey!"

Nattie coughed abruptly on purpose and impishly muffled under her hand, "AchStephen-ahem!"

"Nat!" the dark-haired woman scolded as the blond innocently smiled at the Irishman, who returned an unsettled glance, and Mike was beginning to believe the sun was getting to Samantha if she was being this open with everyone. She was usually reserved in normal circumstances rather than clinging to her favorite superstars or exclaiming dramatics like Ted. . .then again, they were in a sticky situation that could unhinge anyone.

"He's old enough to be your father, worship someone else. . .like _me_!" Ted snapped indignantly to Samantha's innocent admiration of the wrestler since Adam had been the first that got her interested in the sport. There was nothing romantic in it but every superstar noticed she always brought him a biscotti with his coffee instead of the regular cookies everyone received, Stephen included.

"I'm not old, blondie, I'm. . ._experienced_" Adam replied cockily because he wasn't about to be told that he was old by Ted of all people and decided to end the conversation to avoid more drama and headaches. Samantha let go of his arm to scuttle back next to Mike, who was turning pink from the heat and wishing he hadn't worn new clothes. So much for looking nice on a vineyard trip. Adam ran a hand through his damp locks before pondering aloud, "Okay, we need to figure out how we're going to. . .hmm, we don't even know what direction we're in!"

A sharp whistle echoed through the field to stop the frantic worry and Randy stopped it when they looked to him as the cause. Apparently, he would have to take charge in this and stated easily with a knowing grin, "The sun sets toward the west and everyone knows the moss grows on the north side of trees. Use it as a guide."

Everyone scattered within millisecond to find a nearby tree but came up empty-handed since they were a distance away from the fields. Great, the one spot with shade that they picked was meters away from any decent trees and Randy sighed in aggravation to another failure. The heat was already making him cranky and he waved a hand to motion to the sun overhead, "It's going, er. . .can't really see. . .I should've brought my shades- Ted, you look up there and tell me. You can't possibly lose any more brain cells."

"I'm not suffering blindness for you!" he shot back defensively at the stupid idea (his Stephen, the scarecrow, idea made better sense) and sat down on the dirt with crossed arms. It was obvious he wasn't going to budge anytime soon and Ted finalized it by looking at each person there to announce, "I'm conserving my energy like a bear and staying put."

"It's moving behind us" Nattie stated bluntly out of nowhere since she'd taken initiative by pulling out her own sunglasses from her purse to take a look. The men stopped fighting over who would suffer temporary blindness and she placed them back inside before looking over the wine fields. The men fell into dead silence when she brought up another crucial question, "So, where's the tour house thingie?"

Instantly, the men pointed in every direction possible with unquestioned certainty that had both women believing none of them knew the actual location. Samantha wanted to beat a nearby bush to death but felt guilty afterwards for wanting to hurt an innocent plant. Her blond friend, however, was furious because she'd asked them beforehand to remember and they horribly failed at doing so after nagging they wouldn't.

"See? This is why men should never lead, they get people lost" Nattie snapped irritably to put them each on the spot, even her beloved TJ, because they had assured her they wouldn't forget. With a low grumble, she opened her leather purse to search through it for breath mints. The spearmint flavor usually calmed her down and she needed it badly before she rampaged through the fields, beating down the knuckleheads.

Randy, however, didn't appreciate the comment and jabbed a finger in her direction to argue defensively, "That's sexist. As a member of MAGS-"

The men, in an effort to take away Nattie's attention from them and onto something else, echoed with humorous curiosity, _"MAGS?"_

Mike and Adam burst into laughter long enough for TJ to ask with riddled confusion, "What do bullets have to do with sexism?"

"It's an acronym!" Randy exclaimed curtly with a miffed glare at having his club name made fun of and was surprised that Ted didn't jump right in to unleash a barrage of jokes. Maybe he was actually staying put like a bear. Seeing that he had their attention, Randy raised his chin and crossed his arms to announce proudly, "Men Against Gender Stratification."

The men, once again, burst into laughter at the real name and Randy grit his teeth at their ignorance since he was trying to make a stand for his gender. Obviously, it was a spectacular failure. Adam put safety over dignity on the backburner for the moment and casually remarked, "Switch the S with an E and you could belong with all those MMORPG people," his voice lowered to take on a teenage pitch, "I'm a mage casting a level five spell-"

"There's nothing wrong with RPG's, I love 'em" Matthew defended his favorite pastime and fondly remembered all the soda he drank to stay up to finish long campaigns on his Playstation. Oh, the beloved memories he had.

_Wait, that was last week_, he thought sheepishly to the gaming pack he always carried on his trips to pass the time. The older men complained it was childish but an hour later, they were fighting over who got the last grenade or boasting about the most kills online.

"I'd rather take a real RPG weapon in a shooter game and blast everyone to bits- _kapow!_" Samantha piped up excitedly, fisting her hands giddily at the idea of blowing something up on a big television. Obviously, being raised in a house full of boys had more of an effect on her competitiveness than she first thought. Everyone stared awkwardly at the usually docile Samantha who seemed about ready to declare war on any nearby ant hills and she chuckled sheepishly, scooting behind Nattie to avoid attention again.

Anthony waved his hands to calm everyone's clamoring conversations and brought them all together on one point, "Okay, now that we know Randy's in MUGS-"

"_MAGS!"_

"Whatever, that's nothing" Ted scoffed dismissively and puffed his chest as he chewed on a caramel square. The group sighed in disappointment since they thought he'd be good on his vow of silence but he patted his chest haughtily to declare, "I'm President of the DiBiase Jr. Fan Club, Hooters' Customer of the Year, American Airlines Frequent Flier- _Executive _level, Vice-President of the East Coast Duck Hunters, and Co-Chair of the Squid Protectors because you know, we need ink for gags."

There was stunned silence throughout the field, except for a few twittering birds (who luckily weren't ducks), until Mike cleared his throat to uneasily say, "O-o-o-kay, I think we heard enough from the squid lover-"

"Says the Chuck Norris West Coast Charter Member" Ted shot back for the wisecrack and jabbed his finger triumphantly for scoring a hit. Samantha could only balk at his audacity when he admitted smugly without shame, "That's right. I picked your wallet at the hotel for snack money."

Mike simply gave him a deadpanned stare (most expected him to chase the man across the field for retrieval) and reached his hand back toward his back pocket. He pulled out a black wallet to show everyone and shook it lightly for emphasis before stating smartly, "You mean _this _wallet that I've had with me since we left the US?"

It was Ted's turn to blink with confusion because he was certain he'd grabbed the right wallet during his looting trip to the room and fished a brown leather wallet from his own jean's pocket. Showing it to everyone, he curiously asked aloud, "Then whose is this?"

* * *

_Elsewhere in Italy. . ._

"Credit or cash?"

John Hennigan grinned the pearly white smile that could swoon thousands and reached for his back pocket to reply politely, "Credit, my good man."

Instead of pulling out his wallet, he pulled out a simple white business card that read in red ink, 'You've just been DiBiase'd. . .Oh, and where did you buy these pants? I'd been thinking about getting a pair- forget it, I'm wasting expensive ink with this.'

John's left eyebrow twitched before he crumpled the card in his hand and yelled out with fury, "DiBiase!"

* * *

Ted rubbed his chin thoughtfully because he was still lost on whose wallet he took since he made it his business to know in order to give them back after his prank. He unzipped his gray traveling backpack and admitted aloud, "Since we'll probably die, because of _Stephen_-"

The redhead proceeded to slap him upside the head again and Ted exclaimed painfully, "Stop that, you sheep herder!"

Stephen scowled at the name and Ted laughed triumphantly to preen matter-of-factly, "That's right, I know all about your little sheep farm."

"There's nothing wrong with owning land and a few grazing animals" Stephen justified to his piece of rural land and the men snickered when the pale man's ears tinted red in embarrassment. He wanted to know how in the world Ted of all people knew about his private life, especially his land ownership, and grit his teeth in annoyance. Now, both Randy and Stephen shared the same glare for being made fun of.

_It's like being in primary school all over again!_, Stephen thought exasperatedly and because this time, the main point wasn't his flaming red hair.

"I think that's sweet" Samantha defended the man but then again, she did the same for pretty much everyone Ted pranked on.

The blond directed a devilish grin at her, his eyes aglow with hidden glee, and he cackled, "Oh, it's sweet all right. When we tour Ireland, those fat succulent sheep will be lamb chops in my stomach."

"Yah keep yer hands off mah sheep, fella!" Stephen threatened protectively to save his little animal friends and the men burst into rambunctious laughter to his thick accent. It always happened when he was angry and Stephen decided to lose the battle, walking away in a huff to stand next to a grape bush. Samantha, Matthew, and Nattie sympathized for poor Stephen because all he did was defend his sheep's honor and to save it from becoming Ted's future meal.

The laughter eventually calmed down and Ted decided to show off his collection of nabbed wallets to the group since he had nothing to lose at this point. TJ and Matthew were both surprised and irritated to find theirs among the stash which they assumed had been lost months ago. Both men were about to beat the blond silly (Matthew because he lost his Starbucks card and TJ for his driver's license) and Ted defended himself with a nervous chuckle, raising his hands protectively to coax, "C'mon, I'm like Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the needy."

"You're not needy" Mike pointed out bluntly with a flat stare and burst Ted's bubble of hope.

"Hey, I didn't say who kept the money and who got the wallets" the other man clarified smartly and flung a wallet at Mike for his never-ending ability to foil his plans. To Ted, he was like Batman to his Joker.

"Ted, you're developing kleptomania" Nattie scolded to his erratic need to nab his friends stuff but screamed the next second when a cute little squirrel shot by in front of her. With the extreme high pitch, most of them thought she was about to get mauled by a wild animal. Of course, nobody knew she was deathly afraid of the creatures and they gasped in mortified shock when she proceeded to fling the brown critter across the field with one swift kick. The poor critter never had a chance.

Samantha managed to recover from the stupor first and scolded her friend's impulsive behavior, "Nat!"

_Poor little guy, he's probably dead or suffering a concussion_, Samantha pined sadly to the poor animal and hoped it didn't have a family out there. _Oh no, now I'm really sad about the squirrel. I'm like Stephen and his sheep._

The blond shuddered involuntarily to the furry creature, its image unsettling her, and she defended her phobia with a frown, "Sorry, but they scare the shit out of me. Little furry hands, sharp little teeth, and beady little eyes," she jabbed a finger at them and declared madly, "You just _knew _he was gonna come at us!"

Anthony gave her an awkward stare because he didn't mind seeing the creatures climbing on telephone poles or running across his backyard. He wasn't one to judge because everybody had their fear: his was birds. Trying to divert the attention away from Nattie, who was rubbing her arms with disgust, he spoke up, "Okay, I don't think Ted's the only one with issues here. We should focus on getting out of here."

Adam sighed aloud, rubbing his temples before he began acting like his stage name and stated sarcastically, "Yeah, I think we're learning _too _much about each other and we really shouldn't for the safety of our minds."

Mike, who was growing tired of the chatter and boiling in his clothes, decided to throw in his two cents by suggesting, "Why don't I head out to find help?"

To Samantha, it translated into 'hey, I'm gonna go die out there' instantly and she was yanking on his sleeve the next second to halt his rash idea. Mike tried to shake off her steel grip as she blurted shrilly with worry, "Are you crazy? No!"

"It's better that one of us heads out and I know Randy will keep the group sane long enough for me to find someone" he rationalized his idea and would debate it adamantly like a politician because it was certainly better than just standing around doing nothing. He jammed a thumb in Ted's direction (who was trading his current wallet for one in his nabbed collection) and wryly stated, "That and Ted's grinding my last nerve. I don't want my last deed on Earth to be 'Mike Mizanin kills Ted DiBiase Jr. over a Kermit the Frog comment'. Not good for my after life karma points."

Ted broke into amused laughter at all the jokes he'd heard from fans and nodded to the group for friendly support, "C'mon, that's what the WWE fans keep calling him."

Randy rolled his eyes with a unimpressed snort and stated dryly, "I think we're more likely to see 'WWE wrestlers kill fellow colleague and Mike Mizanin remains lost in the wild'."

"I'll be fine!" Mike assured confidently but everyone murmured inaudibly to themselves with their own objective views. The high statistics that he'd be lost within minutes were already stacked against him but of course, Mike refused to believe it. To him, anything was conquerable once you put your mind to it.

"Unless your phone has a gps, you're stuck in the same boat" Adam pointed out shrewdly to his crazy idea and shook his head at what he was hearing. This is how people wound up lost and died because they had no survival skills whatsoever yet believed they could brave the elements. He raised his brows to pin Mike with a knowing look and grimly stated the severity of his going off alone, "You're only going to wind up lost, Mike."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing" Mike insisted without falter as he glanced at each of them (none of them were joyous about it) and shook his shoulders to start off his search for aid. He would have to skip the warm-up exercise because the faster he began the search on foot, the faster he'd reach help. After this, he could add 'hero rescues lost professional wrestlers' to his resume. Yes, that sounded quite nice.

Samantha grasped his left arm, yanking it like a rag doll's as she fussed worriedly, "What if a mountain lion attacks you? Or a snake bites you? Or you break your ankle? Or heatstroke happens-"

"Thank you!" Adam exclaimed in agreement for the nay vote but Mike wasn't hearing any of it. Samantha knew she sounded like her dear ol' mom but this time, the statistics of becoming lost were as tall as a mountain. Yes, it was a peaceful vineyard but even a huge piece of land could get anybody lost. Adam tried to find a signal one last time with his phone but got squat which led to him stuffing it into his pocket. More irritation might have him chucking it over the vineyard like that poor squirrel.

"People on the Discovery channel do it all the time, you'll be seeing me in no time" Mike rationalized to keep hope alive and pulled off a few grapes from the vines, earning a complaint from Matthew. He crushed them in his hands and wiped the purple mixture over his cheeks to form two battle stripes on each. With a goodbye wave of hand and a valiant 'here I go', he set out towards the left in whatever direction it was located on Earth.

Samantha wringed her fingers together from frantic worry but wound up scrunching up the back of Stephen's shirt accidentally. The redhead cleared his throat politely to catch her attention and she scurried off to stand next to Nattie to hold onto her for comfort. Ted ran forward, kicking loose dirt into the air to everyone's annoyance, calling out desperately to his departing colleague, "If you find help, order me a burger with fries!. . .And a bucket of fried chicken- _medium _spicy! Not that honey crap!"

"I'm not a drive-in box, asshole!" Mike yelled huffily back from across the field and Ted shook a fist at the fading speck that was known as The Miz. Samantha hoped she wouldn't have to file a missing person report on her friend but most importantly, that he didn't get mauled to death in the wild. She decided to keep upbeat somehow because she doubted wild animals larger than squirrels inhabited the area.

The blond man crossed his arms to snort at the air, using the action as a defensive shield to hide his worry over his friend, and whistled aloud to sigh, "Well, he's a goner."

"Ted!" Nattie scolded his callous words and smacked his arm for the rude comment.

"I'm just being realistic here, half of us will be frozen by the time they find us" he pointed out bluntly and began to pick off grapes from the vines to store in his pockets. Sunset was only a few hours away and he needed to prepare for an overnight stay if Mike didn't return in time. He'd heard enough survival stories to know half the people didn't live. . .well, in _severe _situations, but still. The others complained to his sudden stealing but he simply shoved the unwashed grapes into his mouth to propose aloud, "If we're going to survive, we need to gather food and huddle together for warmth. Sam, Nat, you two will be on either side of me and the rest of you guys can pick a partner."

Both women shot him deathly glares for being treated as objects and proceeded to punch the stored grapes in his front pockets into mush. Ted exclaimed in disgust to his ruined jeans (possibly his boxers as well) and exclaimed dramatically, "Fine, but don't come to me when any of you need grapes!"

"Trust us, we won't" Randy replied dryly to the idea of eating dirty grapes that came from Ted's pockets. He wasn't that desperate yet.

Anthony, who'd been digging between the piles of wallets after mysteriously losing two while on tour, called his hopeful search quits. However, he did find something handy and held up a small white compact mirror. Of course, nobody paid him attention as Ted hogged the spotlight with his grape rant and he leaned over to privately tell Randy, "We can use this with the sunlight to send an SOS to someone out there."

Randy grabbed the compact with a satisfied grin that they were finally onto something (he wasn't holding his breath on Mike's plan) and sighed, "Thank God I have _somebody _with a brain-"

"Hey! I take offense to that" Adam intervened defensively since he'd had the first decent idea out of everyone and jiggled his phone to point out resentfully, "Whose idea was it to use my phone?"

"It didn't work so we're onto phase 2" Randy retorted bluntly and zoned in on the only dark-haired woman there as she tried to stop Nattie from killing Ted for yet another joke. It was easy to see that Samantha was no match in restraining the professional wrestler and poor TJ had to hold onto both in order to make a difference. Randy shook his head at their antics, rubbing his forehead in stress relief as he beckoned sharply, "Sam!"

She turned quickly to glance at him and he showed her the closed compact before motioning up to the sky. Her struggle on holding back Nattie came to a halt and she left TJ to handle it as she hung her head at the silent meaning. Receiving the message loud and clear, she groaned to playing telephone pole again and mumbled pitifully, "I don't want to fall."

Of course, Randy wasn't having any 'no's from anybody today and Samantha found herself on Stephen's shoulders yet again as the disgruntled Irishman played the role of a steed. With no specific path to follow, she angled the mirror in all directions to bounce off a reflection somewhere into the unknown. She'd no idea if anyone would actually see them but she had to try because she didn't want to get blamed for being a scaredy cat and dooming them all. Like Mike had said to her, it just wasn't good karma points.

"This looks more like a crappy light show" Ted muttered with a frown as he tried to dodge Nattie's dangerous fingers from pulling his precious hair but received a wallet to the face from Adam, "Ow!"

Nattie seemed satisfied to the justice served and grabbed her boyfriend's water bottle to rehydrate her parched throat. Samantha chuckled to the direct hit but the vibration of the boisterous laugh caused her arms to move and the mirror accidentally flashed into Stephen's eyes. The redhead blurted in pain to the blinding light and his abused eyesight to exclaim frantically, "Mah eyes! Sam!"

He stumbled in his balance as he tried to blink his vision back to normal (he was sure Adam wasn't so blotchy and yellow before) and she wrapped her arms around his head like a frightened baby koala as she yelped, "Stephen, stop! Stop!"

"Ah _would _if Ah could _see_, Sam!" he blurted fretfully and the group gave a multitude of verbal directions to guide him but they overlapped each other so that didn't help matters. If at all, it confused poor Stephen further! He knew an accident was inevitable since his day started out horrible with having his breakfast stolen (he was sure it'd been Ted) and shortening his training for the day when Ted hogged his station of the gym to himself. Frankly, he wished he'd crash into him and flatten him but no.

Instead, the group winced with a startled gasp when the two crashed with a loud rustle into the row of Vermentino grape vines behind them. Samantha suffered the most as she became tangled in the vines and scratched her arms all over in a futile attempt to get free. She was certain that she'd need to put antibiotic onto some of them and hoped grape juice (luckily, they were white grapes) could be washed out of her clothes because she'd hate to throw them away.

"This is officially the _worst _day of my life!" she exclaimed in frustration, kicking at the plants to untangle herself but accidentally kicked Stephen's back in the process. Her face faltered into dismay when she felt her foot contact his rigid back and her cheeks darkened into a rosy hue as she blurted apologetically, "Sorry!"

Matthew helped the poor Irishman to his feet (a thankful change in comparison to his first fall) as the Irishman wondered if he would be riddled with headaches by nightfall. Training for the WWE was one thing but losing to a grape bush wasn't going to help his image, especially in front of his colleagues and friends. He ran a hand through his flattened hair to give it a little bit of life and muttered under his breath, "Mike better be on the right track."

"Um, I'd hate to ask. . .," Samantha piped up hopefully as she tried to untangle herself but ultimately failed, "but could somebody help me? I'm fighting a losing battle here."

* * *

_Elsewhere in the vineyard. . ._

Mike passed a small bush in the odd shape of a donut and halted in his run, jogging over to examine the familiar thing before exclaiming in irritation, "I just passed this five minutes ago! Crap!"

He ran to the left where he hadn't ventured before in order to get away from the familiar bush but minutes later, ended up at a small shallow pool of water. He stared incredulously at the small rocks littering the pool as a realization hit him.

"What the- I never came here before!" he shouted in frustration as the place began to feel like something straight out of the twilight zone. Every bush he'd made fun of seemed to come back and haunt him every half hour and the places he ventured to were leading nowhere. It was like an imaginary maze! Mike grasped his blond hair to bellow across the fields in vow, "I'm never touring with these people ever again!"

* * *

Half an hour passed and the group opted to sit underneath shady spots, drinking their water sparingly to prevent dehydration. Ted finally managed to be quiet after he realized that talking wasted energy and had made himself a bed out of leaves to nestle on it like a hibernating bear. The women were envious of the men since they could take their shirts off with ease while they'd be whistled at for taking off their tops so they remained boiling. Poor Matthew was rolling around the ground like a rabbit to cool off from the heat while Randy laid on his stomach, tongue lolling out like a panting dog's.

"We're going to roast out here" Adam panted tiredly as he tried to use his shirt as a fan, lying back against a thick bush to give himself some air. To most female fans, this would be a picture perfect Adam but the reality was that the man was literally dehydrated. Why did it have to be so hot when they took this tour? That was the whole point they took the tour instead of heading down to the beaches. They thought the free air conditioner would be better than the sun's rays but obviously, they picked wrong.

TJ groaned with misery as he laid on the ground on his bare back, moaning aloud to his girlfriend, "Nattie, before I die, I should tell you that you've made me a happy man and I wish. . ."

Nattie brightened up despite the heatstroke fogging her mind as she assumed a marriage proposal would be popping out of his dry mouth but instead, her boyfriend admitted, "I want you to know. . .that last Christmas, I accidentally dropped the glazed ham and blamed it on David."

"What? My aunt Lucille cried over that ham!" she exclaimed shrilly and smacked his head with the last strength she possessed. He recoiled in pain, holding his head in both hands at suffering yet another blow as she yelled resentfully, "She practically shunned him!"

"Don't you think _I'm _suffering too? I'm practically melting at this point. . .and that ham wasn't really all that tasty" he murmured listlessly to justify the accident and the group snickered to the last words. Nattie decided that if he lived, she'd be making him eat all the holiday hams his stomach could handle until he vomited. That would teach him.

Anthony grumbled like a zombie from his spot next to Matthew and declared aloud, "I think I'm starting to smell like bacon at this point."

Halfhearted 'yeah's went throughout their small group and Samantha, who had curled up under a cooling bush, croaked, "I want you guys to know that I've had a lot of fun working with you but I never thought I'd die with you. Seriously, never in my life."

"Can we still die together?" TJ tried to sweet talk his girlfriend, hoping she wouldn't stay mad about the ham incident. Nattie sighed regrettably because she wanted him to pay for all the trouble he caused at the family dinner but patted the top of his shaved head to agree. It sure was better to die with somebody at her side rather than alone in her personal view.

Ted grabbed his cache to himself and raised his chin to the sky to tell the rest proudly, "I'm going out a lone wolf. Proud and tall-"

"And howling like a harpy" Randy joked casually as he drank the last drop of his water bottle, shaking it to see if one more droplet fell but got squat. Throwing the plastic bottle aside, he jabbed a finger to each person and threatened, "If I die, don't you dare pose me in something ridiculous or I _swear _I'll haunt each of you and drive you to commit suicide."

"Would yah stop talking about death?" Stephen grumbled grumpily because he was not in the mood to accept that he could actually die in a damn vineyard rather than some freak accident. He could already imagine the dehydration and the slow exhausting death. . .his blue eyes widened and he remarked, "Shite, we'll look like jerky!"

Matthew picked up his head at the image of the snack and groggily asked, "Jerky? Where? I want jerky."

"Who wants to die with me?" Samantha piped up as she yawned tiredly with a raised hand, not really trying to get into the 'dying' experience but adding onto it for friendly bonding.

Adam raised his hand to snatch the invitation and managed a goofy grin, "Anything for my 1 fan."

Nattie intervened by grabbing the hem of Samantha's violet shirt when she began to crawl away and weakly protested, "No, Steph-"

Loud voices cut her last syllables off as they echoed from the right, "Qui! I found them!"

The group watched in simultaneous relief as three people from the vineyard happened upon them and Anthony hopped up with renewed energy brought on by their rescue. Finally! He was so incredibly overjoyed that he rambled in Italian to the men while Ted hugged his hoard protectively and with the heat induced paranoia, brought up cautiously, "Careful, they could be here to rob us blind!"

"Out here? And besides, we don't have anything of good value" Nattie argued to his illogical thinking on the robber part and blamed it on the heatstroke. Of course, she wasn't about to say she carried valuable things, like cash and her phone, because Ted would probably take them when she wasn't looking.

"They've been looking us for the past hour and apparently, we're three miles south from the tour office" Anthony explained the situation and finished in three short sentences to get everyone up to speed. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Mike yet. He roused the tired men from their shady spots who didn't feel anxious to walk back three miles.

"I've dealt with enough crazy today, I'm ready to get this over with" Randy grumbled with a tired sigh as he stood up slowly, brushing his short hair from any residue of dirt. He didn't want his appearance to look too 'Cast Away' but more 'Lost' in case he had to deal with the authorities. He'd give American tourists a new name if he came out unkempt and delirious like Ted. He beckoned the small group with his hand as they groaned tiredly in unison and understanding their exhaustion, gently told them, "C'mon, guys."

"I'm too tired. . .carry me with you" Ted tried to negotiate his way out of walking but got a swift kick to the kneecap by Randy that jolted him upright. He leapt to his feet and rubbed his sore knee as he hastily changed his mind, "All right, I'm going! I'm going! Damn."

* * *

The group was heading home with the help of the vineyard's staff as the sun began to set and after heavily denying that they didn't touch their grapes, Randy finally decided they'd share whatever costs popped up to prevent an international incident. Of course, Ted heavily objected but the purple stains on his blue jean pockets didn't help his case. As the group walked by a shrouded area filled with grape vines and small flimsy trees, they heard loud and violent sobbing echoing throughout the plantation causing them all to stop. Ted, the loudmouth, began saying that it was too early for Halloween (which didn't even exist there) and that the field had better not be haunted or he'd sue. This earned him another smack from Randy's end. The horrible noise continued echoing through the field as they tried to figure out what it was but Matthew already had an inkling on _who _and called out, "Mike?"

A few seconds later, "Yeah?"

Samantha was on edge at finally knowing where Mike was instead of worrying to death over her lost friend and tried to pinpoint where his voice had come from. Nattie chose this time to laugh aloud because as their adventure came to an end, she really needed to laugh at something to take her mind away from what happened. That, and hearing Mike sob was hilarious in itself. She grinned wittily and yelled back with amusement, "Are you _crying_?"

The sniffling instantly stopped and a loud indignant 'No!' echoed through the field.

"Mike, where are you? Are you okay?" Samantha called out worriedly for the man but Ted scoffed that he was fine if he could talk. She didn't pretty much care until she saw him to make that assumption and tried to see through the open patches between the bushes to pinpoint his silhouette.

"Um, on top of a large rock that I can't seem to get off from. . .can't really say much else!" he yelled hesitantly back to the group.

Randy crossed his arms at trying to imagine the scene and called back skeptically, "How'd you get up on a rock that you _can't_ climb down?"

"I don't know, Randy, maybe I was worried over you guys and lost my path!" the blond retorted back with dripping sarcasm through the fields and Randy snickered at his lost friend. Oh, the jokes this would make on and off work.

"Are you ready to agree that I was right?" Adam added in since he'd been against the whole idea in the first place. Maybe now, people would listen to him instead of throwing his warnings to the wind.

Samantha shushed both men since she was worried more over the safety of her friend rather than who was right. She placed her hands over her mouth to carry her voice over the distance and called out, "Can you tell us anything about where you are?"

Mike's sarcastic voice shot through the empty fields, "Did I _not _mention I'm on a huge boulder with nothing but bushes in my sights?"

A second later, his voice hitched in a hopeful tone, "Wait, I can use my laser pointer. . ."

"Ow!" Anthony cried out suddenly as a sharp blue laser hit him square in the eyes as it carried over the distance. He grabbed his eyes to rub the awful sensation from his eyes and cursed under his breath for being Mike's target.

"Damn, that's a pretty good laser pointer" Adam remarked impressively because he didn't think many carried one on a daily basis. He hadn't seen one in a while but it seemed to work better than the compact mirror idea they used.

Samantha, however, happily grabbed Nattie by the hand as she pinpointed his location and pulled her along as a follower as the blond groaned tiredly. She headed in Mike's direction along with the rescue team and declared valiantly, "We're coming to save you, Mikey!"

"Sam, don't call me that!"

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the late, late, late, I'm sure there's more late in there but school killed me this semester. This chapter was actually supposed to be shorter but when I started editing it, I decided to add in a few more segments for all the waiting you guys did. I appreciate your reviews and the story alerts so now that this one's out, I'm working on the next one which ties up their trip in Italy before they head out to cause mayhem in France. Once again, I thank every reader worldwide and hope everyone is having enjoyable holidays.

Stay tuned next time for: _Stephen, the King of Cats_


	6. Randy, The Road Hog

**Randy, the Road Hog**

* * *

Samantha was fiddling furiously with her iPhone as Nattie and Anthony happily chatted to themselves behind her about the ancient city after a morning-long shopping spree in downtown Rome, which left all three pretty satiated in souvenirs. During international trips, the wrestlers didn't carry much to add on souvenirs into their empty luggage until full and when that occurred, care packages sent home did the trick. As a tagalong worker for the WWE roster, she was bombarded with constant text messages from all of her three rascal brothers in regards to the wrestlers. Sometimes, she wished she'd never uttered a single word about her real employer and resisted from blocking her siblings to show them a lesson in privacy. . .but she loved the tykes too much. This was apart from the regular barrages from the other company departments which left her temple veins twitching and ready to chuck the phone into an ancient Roman canal.

She managed to tear her eyes from another inquisitive 'did you learn any wrestling moves yet?' and 'can you tell Eve we are her humble servants?' text from her teenage brothers to catch an eyesore of a van parked in front of the hotel. The poor thing, a GMC model, looked more than thirty years old and the peeling powder blue paint from the sides added to the effect of its antiquity as dusty tires could be seen from her distance. She pitied both the owner and van (it seriously needed maintenance work) but for an eerie reason, felt the van was there for her and nobody else. Ugh, why did she watch _Christine _yesterday on her laptop? Stranger things have happened, right? She quickly opened her large purse to peruse through her paperwork for the current trip, refusing to part with it until she was off the clock, and skimmed the pages to read that their modern GMC rental van was not what she was currently staring at.

A breath of sweet relief exited her lips because imagining driving the horrendous van with the wrestlers was horrifying, already visualizing their accusing eyes ablaze with unyielding fury for allowing such an automobile near their vicinity. Luck seemed to be on her side today. . .or so, she thought. Of course, the next second, she imitated the exact replica of an Italian statue that she'd see later that day when she watched Matthew pop out of the passenger's window like a whack-a-mole. There was a huge smile of delight lighting up his chiseled face as he called out with excitement to beckon her closer, "Look what we just got!"

Yep, the universe was destined to ruin her job.

This would _not_ stand, not after surviving being hopelessly deserted in a vineyard and losing a shameful battle against a grape bush. Her fingers scrambled to punch in the number for the rental place into her phone since this was most certainly not in the contract and would yell until she was purple in the face. She'd gotten quite a good sense of gumption after yesterday's catastrophe of a trip and endured her battle scars of superficial scratches over her arms with pride (or so she'd tell herself). Nattie and Anthony, who were only a few feet behind were thrown into dismay to the old beast innocently parked in the street with a happy Matthew on board. Did he not care that the car looked ready to collapse in itself?

John Cena, who was fiddling in the driver's seat to figure out how to use the vintage van, quickly popped his blond head in over the black dashboard and called over to the fretful Samantha, "Already tried that when I went to pick it up. Apparently, ours was rented out for the day and they gave us some of the money back," pausing, he frowned to add in, "but we got this instead. It was either the van or a tiny red car that could only fit two people."

"I think it's trippy!" Matthew declared merrily from inside the old blue van as he disappeared into the back to explore further and a loud thunk was heard from inside. Cena's head snapped to the right instantly to the noise while Samantha's eyes widened to Matthew's unknown whereabouts in the mystery van but they heard a sharp yelp, "_Ow!_. . .I'm okay, just scraped myself, the seat just collapsed from under me."

Ted, who wasn't particularly ecstatic about their new trip but wanted to see the ruckus as he munched on a bag of potato chips, snorted under his breath and remarked sarcastically, "Yeah, I think you just got tetanus, pal."

Samantha jogged up to where John was inspecting the side mirrors and wiping them spotless with a white rag to leave them squeaky clean for their trip up north. Today had been their last day at that particular hotel and they were headed to meet the other teams of wrestlers, hoping to stop at an art museum in Rome after checking into a small quaint inn at the outskirts of the city. Everyone had packed their luggage but their group was reduced to a cozy nine in the traveling van but with the current look of theirs, it would be a tight squeeze with the luggage. Stuffing her papers and phone into her purse, she ran her nervous palms down her jeans to settle her sudden anxiety about the ancient car and questioned in disbelief, "Do they really expect us to drive this thing? It looks ready to break down- oh my, is that a _plant _growing from under the bumper?"

"I think it adds character" Matthew answered perkily from inside as he popped into the driver's seat to relax, folding his muscled arms neatly behind his head with a carefree grin. Samantha and everybody else couldn't wrap their minds about how he could appear so serenely cheerful about the old van; it was unfathomable. John merely spared him a brief sidelong glance before moving to clean the other windows, an amused smile on his lips as he was dressed the part of a relaxing tourist: denim jeans and a steel gray t-shirt. Matthew simply let out a long sigh of blissful content and assured his colleagues with an infectious smile, "This is going to be fun."

Ted shifted his weight onto his left leg as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, his forearms showing light hints of sunburn but his cheeks held the envious rose pink that caused him to resemble a baby that had just gotten its face pinched by cooing women. He'd opted for khaki shorts and a black polo shirt for the day to travel in style but remained scrupulously watchful in case another ugly misadventure reared its ugly head. He was prepared this time as he'd packed pepper spray for danger and sugar packets for lifesaving energy, both craftily stolen from Randy's hotel room during breakfast. Ted shook his head with incredulity to Matthew's naïve ignorance, especially after what occurred yesterday, and stated matter-of-factly with a frown, "You said that yesterday and we almost turned into unwilling human turkeys in a vineyard. If I'm gonna die, it's going to be glorious with an open casket for the ladies- not having my leg gnawed on by a ravenous coyote."

Nattie stepped up to the sidewalk to analyze every inch of their ride of the day with a critical eye, hoping the automobile wouldn't fall apart in the middle of the highway. She would keep her phone close at hand in case of a roadside emergency and grimaced with distaste on her red painted lips, "Are we really going in that thing?"

"It's cozy" Matthew reasoned optimistically to the chance of adventure since he could add mystifying charisma to the ugliest of things but Ted rolled his eyes because it looked like a plain heap of trash to him. Truly, Matthew was Samantha's angel as he kept upbeat throughout it all while lesser men would be calling a better business bureau . . . namely Ted. John slapped the smartphone out of his hand before he finished dialing the number for information, eliciting an undignified yelp from the protesting blond as he scurried off in retreat to mend to his wounded pride.

John withheld an aggravated sigh when he could clearly see Ted hiding behind the transparent doors of the hotel lobby, ashamed to his awful concealment attempt, and called out pointedly with sarcasm lacing his voice, "I can still see you, DiBiase!"

Blue eyes narrowed before slowly disappearing into the lobby. Ted made a lousy real-life villain in comparison to his on-screen persona.

"I wish you guys luck because if it's like yesterday, you're going to need it" Anthony sympathized with the group's current predicament and shot off like a bullet towards the safety of the hotel where he couldn't be dragged away against his will. One tumultuous adventure was enough to last him a lifetime with his job description and he'd found safety with the other groups heading out. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for those traveling with poor Samantha. Ted and Nattie groaned miserably as if they'd been handed the apocalypse itself, shooting the van an evil glance for ruining their trip before it even began.

Randy and John Hennigan stepped out through the front doors of the hotel with a casual ambience in their stroll as the dark-haired man announced aloud, "All right, Hennigan and I are- _what the hell is that_?"

Both men halted immediately as if petrified into solid stone at seeing the machine that dared to call itself a van and could sense ominous waves rolling off of it to claim them into its dangerous depths. Samantha tried to keep a cheerful grin on her face to hopefully sway them to give the hunk of metal a chance because her job pretty much depended on it or she'd be fired for failing to meet the deadline of their upcoming show- live aired or not. Plastering a bright (almost bizarrely inhuman) grin fit for a Disney character imitator on the flamboyant day parade, Samantha ushered them forward with a wave of her hand and declared jovially, "Our next adventure! C'mon on and join the Explore-Mobile of-"

"Oh, shite."

Everyone turned to see a sunburned Stephen as his smooth porcelain skin was tinted a tomato red around the cheeks and forehead, dressed from head to toe in concealing neutral hued attire to ward off the sun. To Samantha, he reminded her of a brightly blushing porcelain doll or a regular Raggedy Andy doll with his fair skin and flaming red hair. Stephen's azure eyes widened to the van and the familiar group, sensing déjà vu crawling down his spine in an ill-omened shiver which led his instincts to order to flee the scene. Before he could bolt to save himself, Randy and John grabbed his arms in an iron grip to lead him towards the van.

As far as Irish myths went, the natives of the green Isle were citizens with courage and kind charisma but when Samantha saw the grown well-dressed man yelling for help in both English and Gaelic. . .it sunk her chances of a good day. She. . .died a little inside at watching the futile struggle. Who wouldn't despair at seeing an able bodied man, one who could crush her in his hand, attempt to flee the scene? It didn't help when Stephen tried to hold onto a bicycle rack that was strategically placed near the curb and it took the strength of both men to pry the professional wrestler off the thing.

Cena shared her sentiments exactly with a shake of his head as he witnessed the rebellious struggle and murmured next to her, "It's a sad day when a man like that throws in the towel."

Ted, deciding it was time for his triumphant return and glorious intervention, dashed up to the redhead to put an end to it all. Everyone's lower jaws popped open when he proceeded to slap Stephen across the face with one swipe of his hand while yelling like a testosterone driven boot camp captain, "Dry your arse and get in the van!"

The ensuing deadpan silence that only passing car engines broke and blank stares directed at the blond wrestler prompted Ted to shrug nonchalantly for the action and ask with sarcastic offense, "What? I can't say something smart for once?"

Samantha buried her face in her hands in mortification to what had just unfolded in front of her and hoped she wouldn't have to untangle a dead Ted from the bike rack or unclog him from the nearest sewer drain. She decided to seek sanctuary within the old van by helping Matthew finish setting up the seats correctly and dusting it free of lint and dust particles. Stephen, who now sported Ted's right palm print on his sunburned left cheek, held back his boiling inner rage from murdering Ted despite his sensitive skin burned intensely with the unexpected strike and mourned the hours wasted nursing his poor skin. His blue eyes resembled glowing sapphires when he stepped up to the blond man to rectify his stupid mistake and with a stern face usually donned on-screen, demanded with a deathly whisper, "Did yah just _slap_ meh?"

"Oh. . .crap" Ted squeaked pitifully before running off like Wile E. Coyote back into the hotel entrance once more where he was safe in its manufactured sanctuary and there was ample security in case the redhead decided to pop his head off. Ha, he could already imagine his mutilated face being on the cover of the tabloid magazines while Stephen would probably be on page two- _he_ was the handsome of the two, after all. He'd make another dashing entrance once the coast was clear and pack into the back of the van where he couldn't be brutally murdered. For now, he would remain seated next to a concealing lobby plant that hid him from sight but that didn't mean his whole fiasco had been ignored by bystanders. His sky blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned back in his seat to shoot them a devil may care smile, "Oh, don't look so shocked."

Outside, Stephen dismissed the blond with an annoyed grunt and eyeballed the sun suspiciously, placing a brown newsboy cap over his head to protect his porcelain skin. He didn't trust it after almost baking alive yesterday and had spent the evening dabbing aloe vera gel on his tortured skin to soothe the burning sensation that lingered throughout the night. Mike and Samantha had been kind enough to offer him some Tylenol and an aloe vera-honey concoction to help the pain but their kindness was no match for his skin cells. By morning, he resembled a blushing babe from a renaissance painting and had almost ripped chunks of hair out from his scalp to his ridiculous appearance. How could he meet fans like that? Moving quickly like a floating phantom to hide next to the shade offered by the old van, he murmured under his breath in eloquent rhythm, "Away, yeh treacherous devil floatin' in space. Ah can feel yer nasty tendrils on meh tender flesh."

Randy stared at the man awkwardly for his vividly descriptive language since Stephen was a man of simple courteous words rather than the foreboding ones that were just uttered. The redhead chuckled softly to his baffled expression since Randy was usually stoically calm unless Ted poked him to bring forth the rage of a murderous bear. Keeping his gaze locked on the lobby doors, he explained simply with a small smile, "Ah took a creative writin' class online a while back."

Hennigan occupied himself by trying to pry the green plant out from underneath the bumper, not afraid to do a little gardening at a parking curb if it meant they could get on the road faster. After all, a three hour drive to Florence wouldn't be over quick. Samantha, however, objected to his weeding of the plant and banged on the rear window of the van to order quickly with a panicky pitch, "Don't! I think it's a load-bearing plant."

Randy was quick to poke holes to her claim because there was no possibility of such a thing but yet again, his own eyes were looking at a live plant poking out from underneath a car. Obviously, this was quite contradictory. The trip throughout Italy was making him question logic and his own sanity, leading him to slap his forehead to fade away his rampant thoughts and questioned firmly with thinned lips, "Load-bearing in a car? How in the world does a plant grow in a _car_?"

"I don't know, Randy, maybe a kid threw magic beans under the back seats or from wherever that thing starts" Nattie supplied sarcastically as all of the recent exclamations and yelling were grating on her nerves as she finished cleaning the windows with a white rag. They were quite dusty on the outside, leaving the underside of her wrists dirty, but made the best of it by reasoning her arms would get an exercise out of it. This was her ticket out of Rome in such short notice and she'd take a page out of Matthew's book by keeping brightly optimistic.

John fiddled with fixing the driving mirrors into the correct places but the holders were old and cracking at the seams which made him wary that they'd crumble under his fingers. Whoever owned this poor van did not take proper care of a vintage car that could've been gorgeous if properly maintained. If possible, he would've given it a proper funeral in a wrecking yard where parts could be donated for maintaining others of the same collection. A lament for the old van was necessary and he cleaned the car with a gentle hand to show it the care that it failed to receive. Setting up the mirrors didn't take very long in comparison to everybody else's jobs and he beckoned Randy with a wave of his hand, "Want to take turns driving?"

"I'll take the first 1 ½ hours" he agreed with a wild grin that brought nervous glances from everybody present because Randy driving would not bode well for anyone. Their troubled eyes watched him move to the back of the van to open the rear doors as he smiled happily to being on the safe free road rather than a plane that could plummet to the ground. The rusty hinges of the blue doors creaked open under the man's great strength but he exclaimed in unwelcome surprise when both Matthew and Samantha came tumbling down on top of him. They'd been cleaning the back seats with brushes in the open area that was used as trunk space but when Randy opened the doors, it had unbalanced them immediately and caused them to pile on top of the man as he fell down onto the street ungracefully on his butt.

The small group gathered at the curb and innocent onlookers stared with bewildered amusement at the jumbled heap of limbs as Randy tried to grip the street for balance. With Samantha and Matthew wriggling above him to break free of each other, it was rather hard for the man as he bore their combined weights on his torso and exclaimed exasperatedly with a frustrated growl, "This is _not_ the purpose of a trunk!"

* * *

With the entire gang of the day gathered at curbside, each took their seats randomly in the van as Hennigan had called shotgun due to his incredibly handy GPS and would help his friend drive to their awaiting destination. Everybody else, however, feared for their precious lives when they heard this since Randy was a handful enough on the road and the two would be roadside devils by the end of the journey. Everything had been packed neatly in the trunk space by Cena after Samantha and Matthew had scurried off to flee the Viper's menacing glare by occupying themselves at a soda vending machine. Their trip would take hours on the road and they needed refreshments aside from water to keep their energy running- except for Randy, he'd receive only water for everyone's safety.

Nobody had been happy to pile into the van and this time, Ted had made one last stand against the trip but a sharp smack upside the head from Stephen and a reminder that a taxi wouldn't take him that far north silenced his pleas for mercy. Nattie had craftily shoved Samantha with Stephen in the first row of seats to keep the two together in her master plan but Ted demanded a breezy window seat to keep his skin cool, automatically inviting himself to the second row. That kicked off the mildly tempered Mike as the third person for the row, who Nattied hoped would allow them to converse since he was often nose deep in books on his iPad. Instead, Samantha was uncomfortably squished between both wrestlers as Ted tended to occupy more room than was actually necessary, leaving both her and Stephen baffled with incredulity as they occupied the other half together. Nattie made herself scarce with hidden plans in mind as the three in front argued about appropriate seat space and she took the back seat with Cena, Mike, and Matthew. Their row was the largest in the van as the first was shortened due to the door entrance as a small wedge of space occupied the small area.

"What did I tell you about sticking your head out the window?" Randy called out from up front with a tone befitting a father reprimanding his unruly child. Matthew reluctantly obeyed with a frown, withdrawing his head from the open window and settling back into his seat to buckle his safety belt. All Randy required were for his passengers to behave themselves appropriately but he was then reminded by his meddlesome brain that his friends weren't regular people.

"We're not even moving" Matthew replied listlessly with a deadpan stare because they were in the exact same spot, trapped in a wrinkle in time that didn't want to fart them into the present tense. He rested his elbow on the open window to relax in the warm van, hoping the AC would be turned on soon, and called out to the shotgun passenger, "You sure you know how to use that thing, John?"

"That's what she said" Ted joked aloud with a proud snigger to his clever wordplay, receiving a slap to the base of his head by Mike from behind seconds later. The blond man recoiled with a slighted yelp as he held his head in both arms from further harm and snapped irately with condemnation, "_Ow!_ You people have absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever."

Hennigan finished punching in the coordinates to their destination up north and placed it on top of the dashboard with a decent volume to overcome future conversations. Knowing Ted, he would have to raise it to its full volume as the blond could become quite boisterous in his jokes and snappy comebacks. Rolling down his window, he prepared to be caressed by the wind's refreshing touch because they were experiencing another hot day and being sweaty for hours would not be comfortable. Unfortunately for him, their driver was about to sink his hopes of remaining spotless. Randy had been gauging each lever and knob in the van for quick memorization since big cars were no problem for him but it led to breaking the sad news to the group with a slow hesitant drawl, "Oh yeah, there's. . .um. . .there's no AC at all so. . ."

The unison groans of regretful misery summarized all of Randy's current feelings at the moment as he kept silent to their predicament, merely glancing at the flow of traffic to see which lane he'd take. The last thing he wanted was to be forsakenly trapped in a slow row like a person waiting for a new phone to be released. Ted, unfortunately, was the first to break under the pressure of knowing there would be no chilly air conditioning tending to his sunburned flesh and gripped the back of Randy's seat as he cried out with alarm, "Let me out! I can't see, I can't breathe, we're all gonna die-"

Samantha sighed with shameful dismay to her dramatic friend, reaching up to snatch the fashionable DKNY black sunglasses covering his eyes and chastised firmly, "You're wearing _glasses_, Ted, and there's a window one inch away from you. If anything, you're the safest so take heart."

Randy had already turned on the car minutes prior, its loud ancient engine hacking to life as a cloud of white billowy smoke engulfed the area with manmade fog for a good minute. Samantha was ready to peruse the classified sections for a new job when a hotel security guard had come up to ask about their rusty old van, leading Mike to charm his way out of any arising problem. Shifting the car into drive, Randy impersonated a long-distance bus driver as he gazed into the rearview mirror to call out, "All aboard, next stop: Florence."

"Oh lord, we should've just paid for train tickets like everybody else" Ted whined dolefully as he yearned for endless air conditioning to soothe away all of his pain and quickly covered his head before he was pummeled by the others. Samantha and Mike were one cunning step ahead; they blamed it on his pranking skills that prompted many to seek defense tactics of their own. She raised a handheld mirror to apply rose tinted lipstick with an innocent hand and he used the reflective glare of another mirror in his own hands, allowing Samantha to divert it with the right angle straight into Ted's unsuspecting eyes.

Everyone ignored the screaming Ted, who was furiously wiping his eyes for relief to bring back his gorgeous vision rather than the yellow starbursts exploding in his field of vision. True, they were pretty like fireworks but he preferred living people instead. Randy quickly ended their shenanigans with a sharp whistle that caused everyone to cover their ears painfully to his inhuman shriek and ordered firmly, "Cheer like a happy family."

They tried their best to sound cheerful with ringing ears as Randy turned the steering wheel to the left to begin their trip, the van blending into traffic without breaking down. They sped off to adventure as everyone split off into conversations to occupy their time for the next three hours. Randy kept his eyes locked on the paved road since European driving could be tricky in a place where he didn't know the full language while Hennigan played the navigator role as they chatted about sports back home. Matthew was unnaturally glued to the square window to witness each passing building which left the other six to converse amongst themselves. A disgruntled Ted punched the back of his seat as he tried to find comfort in the lumpy old seat and growled in complaint under his breath, "Ugh, this thing has no lumbar support. What is this, the Dark Ages?"

Mike rolled his eyes to the newest complaint of the hour before turning around to fiddle in the back of the van where their luggage was stored and grasped the white object lying at the top of the pile. If giving it to Ted would silence him like a baby with its bottle, he would offer the object of gratification to placate him. Turning around, he tossed Ted's foam pillow to the front with enough projectile strength that it bonked off of Randy's buzz cut hair and they heard his gruff voice order sternly, "Hey! Keep the party in the back."

Mike simply grinned mischievously to the blond man as he placed his square chin on the seat in front of him, causing Samantha to chuckle amusingly to his Cheshire grin as he resembled the lazy cat of Wonderland. Ted had caught his beloved white pillow, displaying his affection by pressing his cheek against it like a boy to his loyal dog, leading Mike to poke good-naturedly fun at his doting by jesting, "There's your weird pillow, DiBiase, have fun."

"It's not _weird_, it's memory foam!" he retorted indignantly as his pillow had become the newest joke in the group for entertainment and shook his head to their silly ignorance on the blissful sleep the pillow provided. Whatever, they'd rue the day they insulted his pillow and found themselves with none- he would laugh maniacally with triumph on that day, along with charging them decent money for profit. _That_ was the Ted DiBiase Jr. way. He wiggled the pillow onto his lower back to release the tension the hard lumps of the seat were creating and relaxed comfortably with a content sigh. . .slumping against Samantha without invitation as she tried to peruse through her paperwork.

"Big overgrown man baby in 3. . .2. . .1" Mike teased her with a slow drawl in regards to the vineyard's gift shop, his mind truly perplexed to what dwelled in Ted's during dreamland but it was best left abandoned in the dark to preserve his own sanity. She shushed him with an embarrassed face, rose tinting her sunburned cheeks since she wanted to stay out of trouble like a good assistant and keep her job.

Nonetheless, her job description didn't include playing an uncomfortable human pillow at the sudden whim of a DiBiase and gently nudged Ted's side with her elbow to make him lie against the window. He grumbled under his breath like an unruly child before turning around to mold against the side of the van, her hand patting him on the back with motherly tenderness which quieted his cranky murmurs. Despite Ted's nonstop barrage of jokes and pranks, he was a true softie at heart- especially when it meant nabbing freebies between both of them. She looked to Stephen for idle chatting to pass the time but the redhead had already fallen asleep on his own without uttering a single peep, head rolled back against the seat as he snoozed quietly. Miraculously, his adorable cap managed to stay on his head despite being in a moving vehicle. With yesterday's drama, she expected the man to be snoring like a hibernating bear during winter but he was surprisingly soundless.

Her face softened as she smiled sympathetically to the sunburns that marred his pale skin, whispering softly to herself in private, "And you're asleep . . . you poor dear."

"Need I remind you that _I _was the one who became lost in the wild?" Mike pointed out matter-of-factly from behind to his unbidden rescue, his thumb jabbing at his broad chest for further emphasis to his daring courage. To Samantha, it just proved how hardheaded the gentle Mike could be sometimes when danger reared its ugly head. Nattie muffled an amused laugh behind her smooth manicured hand in remembrance to the sobbing man concealed in the dark veil of night as his grape stripes of war had smeared down his high cheekbones with tears.

"Nobody told you to go off alone" she chided gently since everybody had objected to his plan in the first place and opened the photo folder on her phone to find the picture she'd nabbed in the dark of Randy pulling on Mike's left foot in an attempt to forcefully drag him off his prison boulder. It had taken a full five minutes for Mike to trust Randy enough to release the boulder and return to the safety of the earth rather than clinging to a rock while sobbing his heart out. Nattie couldn't stop laughing the entire way home and came to believe that one could actually die from hard laughter after being rendered breathless by the time she arrived at the hotel.

Mike halted his novel perusing on his handy iPad to shoot back a reasonable reply about his heroics (it sounded nice in his head back when he'd accepted it). However, the words died on his lips when Randy's deep voice attracted their immediate attention with its hidden glee, "Get off the road, grandma! The streets are for the young! . . . Hey, she flicked me off! I ought to-"

Cena was quick to calm the man's odd fancy for road rage, leaning against the seat in front of him and reminding sharply with a wagging finger of warning, "No tailgating or racing the other cars to flash them your asses. We're not driving on American roads anymore."

"Exactly, they're not respecting Italian law! _Rispettare la leggi_!" Randy declared madly as he claimed sovereign law on the roads for himself and a sudden sharp swerve to the left to merge onto the next empty lane swung everyone to the right. Everybody exclaimed in surprise as they tumbled harshly within the van like mannequins, causing Matthew to painfully smack his face against the window (thankfully, without shattering it) and the sleeping Stephen to topple off his seat to abruptly wake up.

"What the-"

"Hey!"

"My iPad, for the love of Batman, save my iPad!"

Hennigan whooped excitedly in the shotgun seat to the favorable speed in the old van as he caught glimpse of another space open on the road, divulging it to Randy as his navigations officer. Yeah, he liked the ring of that. Meanwhile, Cena managed to use the textured roof of the van to balance himself by pressing his palms flat against it for stability while Nattie used her womanly strength to hold onto the seat in front of her, staying locked in place like a warrior princess. Mike, unfortunately, bounced between both Nattie and Matthew like a ping-pong ball as he held onto his pricy tablet until he could grasp the back seat for leverage. Samantha was out of luck as she fell onto her stomach on Stephen's empty seat, hanging on with what strength she had (it was nothing compared to theirs) when Ted fell directly on top of her from the swerve. Uncomfortable was a massive understatement to what she felt with the blond wrestler pinning her to the seat but Samantha managed to grasp Stephen by his brown vest to keep him from hitting his head against the metal doorway.

Simply put, it felt like a surreal scene straight out of an action film.

"This isn't a Grand Theft Auto game, Randy!" Nattie screeched with panic from the back as her fingernails practically pierced the broken leather seats to maintain her hold, grunting with annoyance when Mike crashed into her. The poor blond man had lost his grip again and was bouncing all over the place like a tennis ball, hitting his perfectly styled head on the roof of the van more than once with a sharp 'ow!' echoing.

Matthew held his throbbing left cheek painfully as he fell off his own seat and mumbled pitifully, "Ow, my tooth."

"Orton, yah arse, drive like a normal man!" Stephen yelled furiously from his uncomfortably tight wedged space between the seat and the door, praying to the heavens the old clunker wouldn't break under his weight. Samantha's rescuing hold kept firm on his vest as she refused to release him and his own hand clasped her lean forearm to keep himself from striking the door.

Randy snapped out of his gas guzzling mania at the sound of the redhead's angry bellow and decreased the speed of the van to human limits, glaring at the rearview mirror to show he wasn't pleased and growled with great reluctance, "Fine!"

Ted, who was now crushing Samantha in a very uncomfortable compromising position, finally caught a decent glance at the fuming Stephen over her left shoulder. The redhead had absolutely no idea what just happened, except that he woke up on the floor with people screaming at Randy, and quickly theorized that his colleague had been bitten by the wanderlust bug to floor the gas pedal. They really needed to put him in a class about road rage or at least, stop him from having the driver's seat during outings. Seeing Ted pinning the poor assistant underneath him brought further problems for his half-asleep neurons to process, their little hamster wheels overloading until they collapsed in exhausted little pants. The blond merely grinned in greeting, oblivious to Stephen's confounded expression on the floor (not to mention his discomfort) and piped up innocently, "Hey, you're awake. Guess what? We almost died."

"That better be gum in your pocket!" Samantha exclaimed in shameful mortification, her oval face flushing red to resemble Stephen's cherry cheeks as she tried to wriggle free. She released the redhead's silk vest to grasp the edge of the seat in a feeble attempt to throw off the muscular man, the worn leather crinkling under her fingertips as lint and dust floated into the air.

"It's a Payday" Ted answered mischievously to the humorous names of chocolate he carried in his pockets to stir laughter from his friends since they usually groaned at his jokes. Samantha, being the kind soul that she was, tried not to explode at his casual tone since she wasn't a wrestler to be pinned and was pretty certain no dignified woman would want to be in such a position in public. Well, maybe the fans who fancied him but she was definitely not one of them- especially with Stephen sitting in front of her.

Hennigan's cheerful voice from up ahead drained the color off their faces when he declared joyfully with a laugh, "Sweet! Open road ahead, Orton!"

"Hold on to something!" Mike warned quickly as the precious few seconds would allow them to prepare for the next summersault through the van, which would hopefully not leave anyone bruised horribly. He stuffed his precious tablet into his travel pack for safekeeping, shoving it under the seat quickly for protection.

Samantha screamed lividly when Ted clung onto her shoulders, leaning against her body in a way that stabbed all of the decency left in the world with a rusty sword and tried to wrench free with a fussy growl, "Not me, DiBiase!"

"Get off her, yah plonker," Stephen reprimanded sharply to seeing a woman's image sullied by DiBiase of all people and pushed him off Samantha with one hand as she scrambled to sit up with a relieved smile. The poor woman resembled a miffed disheveled cat as her hair and clothing were crumpled in disarray, her hands quickly smoothing over clothes to fix them. Her pink lips were ready to release a polite thank you to the wrestler but the car swerved to the right this time and she was sent reeling backwards against Ted, who was flattened like a cockroach against the window. Stephen yelled a curse in Gaelic as his natural tongue dominated during stressful situations, crashing into Samantha to wedge her between them like a common tiny ant against large fire ants. This brought a painful 'ow' from Ted as he was flattened into mush by both of them. She gasped breathlessly as Stephen knocked the wind out of her lungs when he fell against her upper body, his face struck with an endless suffocating curtain of black hair as he tried to escape its web.

Nattie couldn't help but laugh at their implicating positions despite the fear coursing in her bloodstream. Oh, why didn't she follow TJ with the other team? Right, for the challenge to claim herself as the prestigious top matchmaker against the other women who knew about Samantha's little crush. Mike's hand shot out to grasp the collar of Ted's black shirt with an iron grip that lit up his clear blue eyes and yelled with a parental tone to all of them, "Hey, no happy time while we're in mortal danger!"

Ted growled against the window he was tightly squashed against, his exhaling breath fogging up the clear glass as his strength failed to find an inch of space to maneuver through. He managed to twist his head to the right to glare at Mike, hoping he hadn't wrinkled his shirt with his grip, snapping sharply with a disgruntled voice, "Trust me, this is _not_ pleasurable for anyone. Sam, your elbow's in my liver-"

"Yeah, well, Stephen's crushing my bosom" Samantha shot back with a pained grunt to their physical predicament as the force behind Randy's driving kept them pinned quite well and hoped for another swerve that would untangle their linked limbs. Why, oh, why did they let Randy the road hog drive? Stephen shook his head free from her ensnaring hair with flushing doll-like cheeks to her remark since he was crushing the poor woman under his weight but she met his mortified gaze to giggle aloud with a witty grin, "Heh. Bosom."

It was an instant icebreaker for the two and surprisingly, this stirred a small laugh from everyone despite the fact they resembled inanimate clothes in a dryer machine.

* * *

**A/N**: I cannot believe I left this story unattended for so long but recent alerts and a check-up review (Lola) smacked me into restarting it, especially because I love humor. Plus, I'm glad to see the Sheamus section has grown remarkably since I was last on here so yeah! Obviously, the rosters have changed a bit since then so I am asking the readers and reviewers to tell me **_who_** they want to see in the story as I'll be incorporating wrestlers from both shows in similarity to how they currently appear on both shows. I'm a writer that loves character development so I have to chisel all of my characters uniquely but Stephen and Mike will be major ones, along with Ted and Nattie.

The next chapter will be **Stephen, the King of Cats** (I promise this time) as the old van finally sputters its last breath and the group is forced to see refuge at a cozy inn that isn't all that it seems.

* * *

_Preview (unedited)_:

"No, don't you die on me, you son of a-" Randy snarled heatedly with defiance towards the vehicle as they fought a battle of wills with the gas pedal. It might be old but the rental place told them that it had decent mileage left for the long trip since they'd be leaving it at one of their stations before hitting Florence's Galileo Galilei international airport for Paris, France. He promised to bring his colleagues to Florence with no problems from the antique vehicle and Randy Orton never broke his word (faces, however, were a different matter).

"You're gonna flood it!" Matthew called out in alarm, no longer attached to the sightseeing window because he didn't want to become stranded in the middle of a foreign land. Yes, it was undoubtedly beautiful but he didn't know a lick of Italian- he was a lost little puppy!

"No, it's vapor lock" Mike stated smartly as his mind scrolled down the list of common car problems in relation to fuel, if that's what it was. Samantha and Nattie remained quiet since this was 'man' land where handsome immortal cars roamed majestically over fields of asphalt. It was a natural trait in men to protect their precious cars like a soul mate and the death of one wasn't easy to take- especially if it was the old clunker they were currently occupying.

"No, give it more gas!" Ted countered with a new idea set on the table but Randy had already fiddled with the gas pedal, which did absolutely nothing. It could've been the battery, given the outer condition of the van, but doubted that the rental station rarely loaned the car. They were blind in this situation since nobody owned cars this old.

"No, don't give it gas!" Cena shouted quickly since most cars stalled with an influx of gas to their system, leading Ted to cross his arms in defiance. Nattie could only sigh as the men butted heads over who was right when the most important thing was to figure out how to stop the car from dying. She could already feel the car trembling underneath her feet and was not about to walk to Florence in high-heel shoes during a hot day. The asphalt was probably hot enough to fry eggs on!

"We should pull over!" Stephen yelled over all of them as the calm voice of reason, besides Mike, while the blond man fiddled with his phone to find a web site that would help to figure out their problem. The Irishman, however, wasn't one to depend solely on technology or afraid to get his hands dirty in which he added in, "Stop the car and look at the engine!"

"One at a time, people!" Randy shouted to them all to bring the rabble of yells back to silence because none was getting through nor working on the car. If anything, Stephen's idea made the most sense but he couldn't risk stopping in case the van died instantly after turning it off. It had taken three turns of the key to start it in the first place! All he could do was veer towards the right where the emergency lane was located but with span of land being empty and flat for miles, there was no danger of a sudden collision.


	7. Stephen, The King Of Cats

**Stephen, the King of Cats  
**

* * *

Their long trip had gone as scheduled by leaving Rome behind while keeping Randy on a tight leash with his dangerous driving skills after another tumble caused Nattie to poke herself in the eye with fuchsia lipstick, Mike smacked himself in the face with his iPad, and Stephen fell off the seat once more. The redhead would never get any decent sleep at that rate, especially when his seat belt had torn completely off from its metal hinges during the first tumble. Midway, Hennigan's GPS had died without a decent charger to keep it operating and they were forced to use the old maps stored in the glove compartment since half of the phones were packed in the back. The other half tended to draw Randy's attention too closely to the small maps shown rather than the road and gave up when the maps couldn't keep up with his speed limit, chucking them back at Nattie and Hennigan (his narrowly avoided the open window). The large maps were harder to decipher than the route to Atlantis after becoming accustomed to modern technology but they kept to the main route connecting Rome to Florence. Any deviations would bode badly for them.

Unfortunately, the map was the least of their concern when the engine began sputtering wildly and decreasing in speed despite Randy's heavy foot on the gas pedal. They were traveling in the middle of a major highway as the lush green countryside bathed their views on both sides and although it appeared beautifully safe, he wasn't going to afford having their car die halfway through the trip. There were no emergency stops to seek help from so they would be stranded. The last team was heading out on a long-distance bus so that would be of no help to them due to their different route and as the van's speed began to rapidly decrease, his brow furrowed in sheer disbelief and annoyance.

The passengers noticed the decreasing speed immediately when other cars began to pass them in rapid succession, not that there were many traveling at the moment. Their conversations ceased with a heavy air of tension as they no longer occupied their time with watching the endless fields pass by and all eyes turned to Randy. When you were driving at the speed of a turtle and under no control of your own, it was cause for concern.

"No, don't you die on me, you son of a-" Randy snarled heatedly with defiance towards the vehicle as they fought a battle of will with the gas pedal. It might be old but the rental place told them that it had decent mileage left for the long trip since they'd be leaving it at one of their other stations before hitting Florence's Galileo Galilei International Airport for Paris, France. He promised to bring his colleagues to the next city with no problems from the antique vehicle and Randy Orton _never_ broke his word (faces, however, were a different matter). If he was placed with Samantha for another chaperoned tour, he would accompany her himself to be sure their next car was perfectly maintained.

"You're gonna flood it!" Matthew called out in alarm, no longer attached to sightseeing through the window because he didn't want to become stranded in the middle of a foreign land. Yes, it was undoubtedly stunning with its architecture and natural beauty but he didn't know a lick of Italian- he was a lost little puppy out there! His mind quickly tried to trickle down the most probable causes for the sudden problem in the van but his voice was overlapped by everybody else.

"No, it's vapor lock" Mike stated smartly as his mind scrolled down the list of common car problems in relation to fuel, if that's what it was- the car was pretty old. Samantha and Nattie remained quiet since this was 'man' land where handsome immortal cars roamed majestically over perfect fields of asphalt and all problems could be cured. It was a natural trait in men to protect their precious cars like a soul mate and the death of one wasn't easy to take- especially if it was the old clunker they were currently relying on for transportation. Samantha cursed herself for picking that specific car rental company as it bait-and-switched her original van.

"No, give it _more_ gas!" Ted countered with a new idea set onto the table but Randy had already fiddled with the gas pedal, yielding absolutely nothing in return. It could've been the battery, given the outer condition of the van, but doubted that the rental station rarely loaned the car. He'd seen some pretty bad cars in rental places over the years and had experienced his share of gas guzzlers but this one was entirely new with its vintage age. Also, they were blind in this situation because nobody owned cars that ancient.

"No, _don't_ give it gas!" Cena shouted quickly since most cars stalled with an influx of gas to their system, leading Ted to cross his arms in defiance. Nattie could only sigh as the men butted heads over who was right when the most important problem at the moment was figuring out _how_ to stop the car from dying. She could already feel the car trembling underneath her feet and was not about to walk on foot to Florence underneath the hot sun in white high-heel shoes. The asphalt was probably hot enough to fry eggs on and wasn't ready to test her shoes upon it.

"We should pull over!" Stephen yelled over all of them as the calm voice of reason, besides Mike, while the blond man fiddled with his handy tablet to find a web site that would help to figure out their problem. The Irishman, however, wasn't one to depend solely on technology for answers or afraid to get his hands dirty in which he added in forcefully, "Stop the car and look at the engine!"

"_One_ at a time, people!" Randy shouted with a flustered expression on his sharp features, bringing the rabble of yells back to deathly silence because nothing was getting through nor working on the car. If anything, it all sounded like incomprehensible gibberish spoken through a loudspeaker! In his personal opinion, Stephen's idea made sense since a visual would allow a decent diagnosis but he couldn't risk stopping in case the van died instantly after turning it off. It had taken three turns of the key to start the ignition in the first place! All he could do was veer rapidly towards the right where the emergency lane laid off the road and spelled safety for them. Its location was ideal due to the span of land being empty and flat for miles so there was no imminent danger of a sudden collision.

Whatever force that existed in the universe safely guided them, the van managing to move its last meters over the road in rumbling trembles until reaching the flat grassy land of the countryside. The ancient van gave its last sputter and one short tremble before its light of existence finally extinguished, becoming completely still under the sun. Randy immediately tried to turn it on but the engine wouldn't turn on at all- the van had finally run its last ride. The women couldn't help but pity it in the heat of the moment as their mode of transportation failed and Matthew patted the metal wall with a sympathetic hand to offer its thanks. It had tried its best despite the years and lack of maintenance so it was the least they could do to honor the car.

Ted, however, simply grumbled under his breath as he slumped against his seat, "Hunk of junk."

"_Ted!" _Samantha and Nattie chastised, the dark-haired woman grasping his little foam pillow to bounce it off his head but its springing power clocked Samantha on the head as well. He growled at both women with offense to being struck with his own belongings, snorting with amusement to Samantha's backfire a second later, and grabbed the pillow to stuff it behind his back for safekeeping. It reminded both women of a little boy trying to hide his precious toys from sticky fingers ready to cause harm; in their case, beat him silly.

"Well, it was the least we could ask of it" Cena sighed disappointedly as their trip had now reached a humongous standstill and they had to be in Florence by tomorrow morning for a meet-and-greet. He wasn't about to risk a tongue lashing from the company for missing his work duties and rubbed his forehead to wipe away any foreboding feelings to their current dilemma. If only he could harness the power of the WWE universe to garner a free ride to Florence. Optimism was his best bet in handling the problem and he leaned against the front row to suggest calmly with a straight face, "Let's take a look at the engine and check if we can do something."

The women were struck with surprise to their lightning quick speed when _all_ of them bolted from the van like a flock of flustered geese, the van rocking slightly to the sides under their weight. Nattie shook her head in amusement as she tied her blond hair in a low ponytail to keep the heat away while Samantha slumped over her seat, glad she'd styled her hair into a sloppy bun midway through the trip. If they didn't get moving soon, the van would turn into their personal sauna. The men popped open the gray hood to glimpse at the engine, careful not to touch anything for fear of burns as they studied the battery and all other components. Well, at least they were united in a common cause now rather than arguing each of their points.

Samantha cleaned the worn leather seats free of food crumbs, courtesy of a hungry Ted, and occupied herself by leaving the car spotless rather than a pigsty. If they were able to get the engine running or rescued by someone, she didn't want the old van to look worse than it already was. With the media always tracking down the wrestlers, the last thing they needed were slothful nicknames attached in the tabloids or an embarrassing YouTube clip (although Nic's new show was doing rather well). Nattie gathered her purse because more than likely, the van wouldn't be running anymore and popped her bag open to fish for her cell phone. If they were trapped on the road in a worst case scenario, she needed to make sure her phone had reception all the way out there and quickly typed a message for her boyfriend. She expected an optimistic or worried reply from her handsome beau but what she received caused her to grit her teeth with the ferocity of a lioness and snarled, "Why that little. . ."

Samantha blinked in surprise to her sudden anger and Nattie displayed the screen of her phone to show her the root of the problem. The phone number belonging to TJ was the culprit as she read his witty message: _Ha, you're stuck. Bet you wish you listened to me now. :P_

"He's not getting any smexy time anytime soon, is he?" Samantha chuckled with disbelief to his humorous reaction to their situation while Nattie frowned, hoping his bus would break down to pin him in the same rut. Of course, the brief flicker of anger would fade soon since being stuck on the road fueled most of it. They've lasted for years as a tightly bonded couple, given their on camera profession, and fights between them were rare unless there was a real underlying problem.

"Oh, he's gonna get something, all right" Nattie frowned with a grumpy murmur, forcefully stuffing her phone into her small purse to forget the cartoonish image of TJ laughing at her from his comfy recliner seat in a bus. He was totally right but she'd insisted the smaller van would flow easier in traffic. . .oh, how wrong she'd been. Where was Ted's silly pillow when she needed to chuck something into the air for stress relief?

Nattie's reaction to their forsaken roadside stop opened the door for Samantha to muster her own gumption on the problem to fix it in any way possible. Otherwise, she would have to live with the shame of being a dog with its tail tucked between its legs for allowing it. She pulled out the papers from the car rental out of her purse and exited the van find a shady spot next to it, punching in the number to demand an explanation for the car's shoddy condition. At the front, the men were grumbling underneath the hot sun as they decided who was right and whether the van died due to a fuel, engine, battery, or a mechanical problem. All bets were on for finding the answer but they ignored Ted when he declared five bucks on the battery. The engine itself was too hot to touch from the hours on the road but it wasn't spouting white or dark smoke to show that it was overheated to cause the stall.

"Want to try turning on the engine again?" Mike asked Randy with a defeated tone since the old van remained a mystery to all of them but they wanted to help it. They weren't mechanics so the answer eluded them like a needle in a haystack, causing all of them to figuratively scratch their heads.

"No, your contract clearly states_- l'auto è una bugia_!" Samantha snapped firmly as she switched between languages to push her point across to customer service about their mistake. She was a gentle soul most of the time, treating others cordially as she'd like to be treated, but that didn't mean she'd allow people to walk over her like a doormat (although Anthony did make a hilarious sketch of it on television). She honestly began to question her qualifications for the temporary promotion with this error but tried to look on the bright side as she adapted to new situations to add onto her professional resume. In case media broadcasting and journalism didn't work out, being a travel agent might work out wonderfully for her.

Nattie grinned from her shaded seat inside the van as she drank a cold can of pop to cool the temperature around her hot skin, glad she'd brought a cooler for the road. Water should've been the safer bet against dehydration but the sugary soft drink tasted delightful on a hot day when water was best conserved for a walk. She'd managed to find her white sneakers within a duffle bag in the back, trading them quickly with a grateful smile for her heels because an imminent long walk wouldn't sprain her ankle now. Her lips widened into an amused grin when she heard a snapping Samantha from outside, "This contract holds you responsible if we suffer injuries from this, one of us might have tetanus- "

Ted quickly waved his arms towards Samantha for attention as her voice carried through the clearing and called out helpfully with a mischievous smirk, "Say they'll live to regret this. _That_ will show them."

"Your compromising skills astound me" Mike muttered dully towards the blond but managed a small chuckle, blaming it on the glaring sun for killing off a few of his logical neurons. Ted leaned down to rip out a chunk of grass and hurled it towards him but Mike merely watched the blades of grass flow away towards the side with a wind current, being carried to the open land around them. The blond sighed despondently to seeing his retaliation fizzle and rubbed his forehead to wipe away perspiration forming, hating the glaring sun as his ears reddened.

"You _will_ send a car to this location, we are insured! I demand to speak to your manager" Samantha stated sharply as she ignored Ted's silly advice and recited the fine print on the contract, a habit of hers after working closely with the famous company. Research was mandatory in the field of journalism so it enraged her when legal documents were forgotten about in the face of a huge mistake and customer service refused to acknowledge it. If she had the strength of Superman, she'd hurl that van right through one of their display windows for revenge. Her sweating fingers crinkled the edge of the papers in her hands as she lost the uphill battle and declared tightly with threat, "Oh, yeah? Fine, you'll live to regret this and forget future business _con la WWE_."

Ending the call with a sharp punch from her thumb, she growled furiously with confounded disbelief for going nowhere with the useless company and kicked her left foot into the air to release frustration. How was she going to accomplish her task now? Or tell the others that she'd failed getting a ride out of there? As if the insult hadn't been enough, she'd unwittingly forgotten that sandals covered her feet and her gray eyes widened when a beige wedge flew across the grassy land like a football. Ted cackled from behind to her sudden misfortune, complimenting her kick to add further mortification, and she headed out to retrieve her poor sandal with slumped shoulders. Well, at least the grass wasn't prickly to tickle or irritate the sole of her foot.

"I'm gonna go ahead and say we're being left to rot on this highway" Hennigan stated with a long regretful sigh as he watched Samantha's uneven walk towards her lost shoe. It was hard not to pity a hobbling woman and the dead van, especially when the trip had originally been filled with enthusiasm and tried to regain the lost pep by asking, "So, what do we do?"

* * *

"I can't believe you made us abandon Herbie" Matthew murmured sadly as he walked alongside Mike and Stephen, all of them carrying their respective luggage over their shoulders or rolling them forward by the plastic handles. The men didn't pack very much but Samantha and Nattie tended to bring an entire armada of belongings which led to Mike, Cena, and Stephen carrying an extra piece of luggage themselves. They'd done this with the promise that the two would never pack like this again and would bring travel size items while sending the rest back home in care packages. Fearing that Nattie would go into a heat induced rage and maul all three wrestlers, Samantha had pulled her along by pledging to help categorize the most important items and finding a new system for luggage delivery.

Ted glanced back over his right shoulder with incredulity on his tanning face despite the black sunglasses concealing his eyes and asked sarcastically, "You _named_ it?"

"It had a lot of spirit, okay?" Matthew shot back in defense to his odd sense of attachment to inanimate things, balancing his blue duffel bag over his left shoulder. He didn't want to abandon the poor vehicle when Randy ordered that they needed to find shelter while everyone had made calls to see if anybody was available to pick them up. Apparently, there was serious business regarding contracts that fateful day and they were stuck in the middle of a highway where taxis couldn't reach them due to mileage limitations.

"Enough! The van is now resting in eternal peace at the side of a road and will be picked up one day" Cena silenced the duo before they blew into a feud because the sun baking them from above was enough reason to make anyone lose their cool. Despite wearing a cap and breezy cotton clothes, the rays of sunlight burned his skin like lasers and he sighed under his breath, "At least its journey is over but we have ours to embark upon."

"You sound like a movie trailer, man" Mike chuckled amusingly to his colleague's chosen words and took a sip from his water bottle to refresh his dry mouth. It felt like a cotton ball already and laughing had caused uncomfortable tingles in his throat but it was worth laughing about. Ted might be their mascot in outrageous remarks and behavior but Cena was the charismatic poster child with his word play.

Hennigan was the only one strolling through the summer heat with a pleasant grin on his face as he pulled his suitcases along with a casual stroll whereas everyone dragged themselves along lethargically like a turtle in the desert. Even the energetic Matthew and Ted had decided to conserve their energy for more important tasks. Stephen, who was burning cruelly under the sun like vulnerable ice cream, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and asked skeptically with curiosity, "How are yah standing this?"

The brunette simply grinned mischievously and pointed to his ivory white lightweight jacket to explain easily, "Oh, I bought this air-conditioned jacket straight from Japan. Keeps me cool for eleven hours without stop and only cost 200 bucks. Awesome, right?"

The men contemplated robbing that nifty coat right then and there in the middle of bright daylight to soothe their parched skin. Hennigan realized this immediately as they took on the expression of a pack of ravenous starving wolves and quickly scurried away at a faster pace to protect his precious coat. They'd have to beat him up to pry the costly coat out of his hands and with his crafty flexibility, would flee the scene like a rabbit seizing another day of life- or in his case, fancy attire.

"Stephen, I have an umbrella you can borrow to keep the sun away" Samantha piped up helpfully as she reached into that endless black handbag of hers to pull out a small extendable yellow umbrella. She knew firsthand how painful sunburns could be since her skin never tanned underneath the sun, retaining only red blotches and peeling skin rather than the attractive summer bronze. A white umbrella with painted sakura petals protected Nattie and her from harmful rays since Samantha's mother always told her to carry one during a hot or rainy day. She carried an extra just in case and Stephen was more than happy to accept, gratefully thanking her as he opened the yellow umbrella. A second later, however, he mentally winced in horror when it fully opened to unveil its design.

"Oh man, your hair clashes so badly" Ted laughed giddily as the bright yellow umbrella unveiled a pretty sunflower located in its center. If it wasn't feminine enough, the bright yellow color surely attracted attention to the redheaded wrestler walking through the green pastures. Stephen frowned to the blonde's rambunctious laughter, disregarding the jokes because his skin was the priority but rolled his eyes when he heard from behind, "Hey, Sunflower McDonald, share the umbrella wealth."

"Well, _I_ think he looks dashing- like a respectable countryside man going out to a rural store to buy food" Samantha defended with an upturned nose to Ted's insult and patted Stephen's back to encourage him to use it because health came first, not pride. Randy held back a snicker from up ahead as he imagined an old-fashionably dressed Stephen walking down a dusty road towards the town store to buy grain. . .he really had to stop watching black-and-white films. He blamed the humorous image on the sun as he baked like a pita chip underneath its intense gaze and wished for sudden cloud cover but it was summer- a futile hope.

Stephen's fair cheeks darkened more than they already were with its cherry hue and Samantha empathized by waving her hand at Ted dismissively, "Ignore him, he's just jealous he'll resemble a wrinkly tomato by the day's end."

"Tch! At least I'm hot, right, Nattie?" Ted scoffed haughtily to defend his manly pride and ruggedly handsome good looks from all incoming attackers, crossing his arms to flash everyone a charismatic white smile. Internally, though, he hoped that he wouldn't get awful tan lines from the sunglasses because he had absolutely no idea how long they would be walking. He'd need some serious makeup coverage before a show because appearing like he'd been severely pepper sprayed would draw attention from the crowds. Oh, how he wished he'd brought a cap or a tub of vanilla ice cream or strawberry gelato to pig out on.

Nattie simply gazed at them through half-lidded eyes as she'd discovered new places on her body that could sweat. She wished she could banish those previously unknown spots and yearned for a cold refreshing shower to bring back the sensation of cleanliness. Also, keeping the heat at bay would've been wonderful. She wasn't in the mood to pump Ted's ego to hot balloon heights but couldn't help herself from chiding smartly, "My man blasts you both clear out of the water."

"Ouch! Go, Nat" Randy laughed boisterously to the comeback and reached out for a friendly fist bump which Nattie returned with a wide grin. Of course, the two just had to join in an unholy union against him; frankly, Ted had expected Mike or Hennigan to be the sidekick.

The group resumed their exodus towards Florence, dragging their luggage under the hot sun for who knows how many tedious hours on foot but lo and behold, they found-

"A place to stay!" Matthew declared joyfully in thankful relief as a solitary dirt road led east into the green countryside, away from the main highway for weary travelers. The thin road led deeply into the area with no building in sight as flat pastures and sparse trees covered the land in a perfect Tuscany setting, mounds and hills discernible in the distance. The green sign bolted into the bare earth was in Italian but he'd figured out simple broken words from his handy pocket dictionary and Randy nodded in agreement as he was the only one in group to grasp the language (except Samantha but she was having a hard enough time swatting flies off her damp skin).

Randy ran a hand over his hot scalp as he studied the sign, his skin tingling uncomfortably with the ongoing heat and knew they needed a resting spot soon. They couldn't keep walking for hours on end without stopping and their water supply would eventually run out, leading him to suggest logically, "We can get help from there and stay the night if we have to since we're hours away. The evening isn't far off so better to be there than out here, right?"

Ted was skeptically reluctant stay anywhere that didn't have yelp reviews, especially in the middle of nowhere, and frowned to point out in suspicious rebuttal, "A place this far out on a highway? I've seen tons of scary movies that start out like this and Ted DiBiase is not about to disappear under mysterious circumstances."

"I think your entire _existence_ is a mysterious circumstance" Hennigan chuckled as he quieted Ted's sudden paranoia, stirring laughter from the group since the blond did have quite the rampant imagination. Sometimes, he could actually fart out decent storylines for the franchise to stir laughs or believable disputes but his lack of experience kept him out of the loop. That is, until YouTube was invented and no restraints held him from unleashing his creativity. Ted simply mocked their laughing since being stranded in an unknown inn sent his safety radar off the chart and wasn't looking forward to that stop but what else could he do? It was either that or roast in the sun like a delicious rotisserie chicken.

Hennigan looked down the empty dirt road as recent car tracks were present in the manmade path, deciding to take a chance at a place that would have a shower, and asked for their input, "You guys think it's a good idea? I'd rather be in a house rather than this sun."

A unanimous agreement (after Ted was slapped into it) echoed through the relieved group and the matter was settled. Until. . .

"I'm gonna head north on the road, see if I can find a gas station" Cena suggested to the group as he placed a hand over his eyes to shield them from the glaring sun, facing north to pinpoint any buildings in the distance. Now that everyone had found a temporary shelter, he could head onwards to find someone with a tow truck or a taxi. His idea, however, didn't blow over very well with the group, especially for those who had become lost in a particular vineyard yesterday after hearing such famous words.

Nattie stomped her foot furiously against the grass, growling to the fact that she hadn't picked up loose dirt to emphasize her fierce protest and pointed out sharply, "Did we not tell you what happened to Mike and his amazingly stupid idea?"

"In my defense, I _was_ found. . .later that night" the blond man stated prudishly with crossed arms of defiance since he'd landed himself in a situation way over his head and could've ended becoming a human carcass for hungry crows to pick at. Nattie didn't hesitate to yank her phone from her purse, turning it on to show everyone the humiliating picture of a sobbing Mike with grape tear stains on his cheeks as she scolded Cena that this would be him within a few hours. Ted didn't hesitate to guffaw like a madman since the spotlight wasn't on him anymore and Mike scoffed to the side in dismissal as he stated tightly, "I was still found. Safe _and_ alive, okay?"

Stephen directed a deadpan stare towards him because that was total horse crap because his profuse bawling had brought him rescue in the early evening, not the uncanny survival skills he'd claimed to have. Mike would never admit his mission had been a failure from the very beginning but Stephen didn't hesitate to state knowingly, "Along with sobbing like a newborn galya."

Everyone blinked to the unknown word, the joke lost to the wind, and the redhead sighed in dismay towards the clear blue sky. Apparently, his humor would never be understood in the states and he translated the word for them to understand with a defeated tone, "A wee baby. Does _nobody_ know Irish slang?"

"We're Americans, we speak _American_" Ted declared fanatically with a stiff nod to show English was enough but every US born person there sighed in embarrassed disappointment to his ethnocentricity. Randy didn't hesitate to smack him over the head for the idiotic comment that could've been taken out of context if the speaker wasn't Ted (who was as serious as a laughing hyena on a normal day). The blond merely pushed him back to scramble to another safer spot across the clearing to be free of the man's grasp and calmly tidied his disheveled short hair; he'd put pepper in Randy's wrestling trunks later anyway.

"It's called English and you certainly didn't invent it" Hennigan stated sharply to make sure he didn't ruin their image as a people because they were already seen like selfish money spenders elsewhere. He blamed it on the idiotic reality TV media because it was all that covered the air waves and wished the talentless hacks would be washed down the toilet and stop embarrassing the country. Of course, he was in the media spotlight as well but he did by pushing his physical limitations to the limit inside a wrestling ring.

"Here's a way to bridge the gap by learning: Stephen, what's a phrase for Ted?" Randy asked with a mischievous grin to turn the tables on the blond and the redhead laughed aloud to his suggestion. Hmm, there were some rather colorful words that matched the eccentric DiBiase but with two ladies present, he decided not to use such crude language. Ted merely mocked the two by utilizing his hand as a puppet to imitate their laughter but it didn't have the effect he wanted as nobody paid attention. Man, where was his DiBiase posse when he needed a ride to Florence?

"He's as thick as a brick" the Irishman smirked with satisfaction to the plain phrase and the others in the group agreed unanimously, their lips shaping into o's of understanding. Well, everyone _but_ Ted, who was the butt of everyone's joke once more but if it kept everyone happy and not running around like chickens with their heads cut off, why not? He was there to keep the masses entertained and not flouncing into a mad panic.

The group continued to speak about John's crackpot plan until Ted spoke up from his solitary spot across the clearing, a light hint of his southern accent mixing into the air when he demanded, "No one's gonna tell me what it means?"

When silence and the rumbling of car engines passing by followed his request, he jabbed an index finger towards everyone accusingly and blurted indignantly, "Fine, but don't come crawling to me when you need conversions for the US metric system."

Samantha was about to question how his brain worked because the last thing she'd expected as retaliation was that but Randy raised his hand to silence her words. The less attention they paid to Ted, the less he would behave outrageously; like an annoying yipping dog within a neighbor's yard. He shook his head to dissuade her from any more interactions with Ted for the next five minutes by stating clearly, "Sam, don't. . .just don't. Save your brain from unwanted pain and ignore him."

"Look, I'm gonna go to the nearest station to see if I can get a tow truck for this and if not, I'll call for a car ride" John explained carefully about the quick details in his mind towards the rescue plan but everybody else was rather anxious to keep him with them. Samantha was at the forefront because if anything happened to him, she'd pay the consequences due to the job requirements and she did not want that on her working record. She could already imagine the embarrassing question 'you lost one of our most popular wrestlers in the middle of a foreign highway?' and it didn't have a pretty outcome. He didn't want to worry his colleagues by disappearing into the unknown (he wouldn't make Mike's mistake) and fished out his cell phone from his jean pocket, displaying it as he reassured calmly, "I have my phone with me in case of anything so no worry there, I won't become lost in the unknown."

"Do yah have a signal?" Stephen asked carefully with an expression befitting a stern father because he was not going to be playing an old fashioned telephone pole again and wanted to prevent the same for others. Samantha subconsciously rubbed her arms in reminder to the prickly bushes that left her with hairline scratches and crossed them over her chest nervously when she realized her actions. John nodded vehemently since long distance walking was no biggie for him, especially with food and water on hand, and showed everyone the little black bars on his phone to confirm it.

Samantha tried one last time to dissuade him from undertaking such a walk during a hot day where heatstroke probability was high and hungry animals were lurking about. She might have escaped seeing Mike devoured by hungry coyotes but the new stubborn head of the group that wanted to break free would be walking closer to being munched on as dinner. Using her hands as props to point out every danger around them, she stated matter-of-factly, "It's dangerous on a highway, John. The temperature, wild animals, cars, people could kidnap you-"

He raised his left eyebrow on that one, using his hand to outline his muscular figure to point out his unique size as a wrestler and her lips shifted into a defeated frown. His height and weight would pretty much throw any average sized human being over a car if such a situation occurred and even then, he'd still have enough power to run off to find help. There was no way he would be picked as a kidnapping victim due to him lacking vulnerability so unless they carried tranquilizers in a dart gun, he'd be fine. Samantha relented to his reasoning since her own strength would fail at keeping him at bay and more likely, be dragged along unwillingly for the ride.

Throwing her arms up in defeat, she shook her head to his stubbornness and dug into her purse to pull out an extra water bottle and handed it over to her friend to make sure he wouldn't run out. The least she could do was keep him hydrated and shuffled her feet over the grass with worry, mumbling under her breath to gently scold, "Fine. Dehydration is a major concern at this hour of the day, buddy!"

"I have enough water now so there's no problem and keep my luggage safe, will ya?" he reassured the woman with his own request since he couldn't lug any extra weight around if he wanted to make it safely to a gas station or rest stop. She nodded with easy agreement since his luggage was private property and with it now under her care, retrieved a small black lock from within the inner pockets of her purse. Everyone began to wonder whether they were now traveling with Mary Poppins since almost anything seemed to materialize within that black tote of hers and yet it didn't drag down her right shoulder whenever she walked.

She leaned down to snap it over the holes within the pulling tabs of the zipper in his rolling suitcase while Matthew took his duffel bag with a friendly farewell. Ted scoffed to the weak protection used since he preferred combination locks on his to thwart thieves and crossed his arms to state haughtily with an upturned nose, "Pssh! Like _that's_ gonna stop me."

The group seriously considered whether to put Ted in behavioral or cognitive therapy for his kleptomania.

"Be careful, man" Randy said firmly as the unofficial leader of their small group, clasping the man's shoulder before allowing him to leave the group on his own. He had no idea why they placed him in charge but with the other candidates being of eccentric and naïve minds, it seemed fair because he wouldn't lead them to death or misfortune.

"Is anyone else getting the idea of taking a photo of John and photoshopping it to 'The Walking Dead' poster?" Mike asked aloud with curiosity as his mind got a hankering to snap a picture and edit out the traffic since the fields were perfect for the shot. He blamed the sun for mixing his logic with the sci-fi world and reminded himself to watch reruns of Breaking Bad to break him from the horror genre cycle he was on. The women sighed in disapproval to his choice of show for such a photo while the others said nothing. . .but Mike still used his phone to take the shot for future tinkering.

A minute didn't pass by before Ted claimed John's suitcase as his own, pulling it away from Samantha's unsuspecting eyes as she'd been watching the road intensely with the others. With a clever grin fit for a crafty fox, he rolled it towards his own luggage across the field while declaring victoriously, "Dibs on his stuff."

The resounding beating from the men on Ted's head didn't faze the two women as they grabbed their luggage to resume the walk down the dirt path, huddling under the white umbrella. Nattie was certain that they were quite the spectacle on the public road as five grown men robbed another blind from his stolen goods but she was too hot to care about it. Her boyfriend would be reaching Florence far before she would so he'd better have the bed ready when she arrived because she was ready to hibernate like a bear with the AC fully blasting on the cold setting.

"Well, at least we found our inn for the day" Samantha piped up to keep the group's spirits high as they took the lead and clapped her hands to bring a little pep into them. Her friend could only mumble inaudibly as she held the umbrella, pushing back stray locks of blond hair from her perspiring forehead and Samantha encouraged her dwindling energy, "Let's go check-in!"

* * *

Ted managed to lug his two suitcases to the mysterious place despite having half of the rolling wheels broken as a special reward for trying to steal John's property. Whatever, a shopping spree to the mall or swap meet would fix it. The area contained trees with decent canopies that provided exceptional shade for the weary travelers, who had sighed gratefully when the sun no longer baked their skin. His blue eyes widened fearfully, however, when he gazed upon the perfectly trimmed green lawn surrounding a two-story Tuscan style home and he grasped Nattie's arms to waver with paranoia, "Creepy smiling dwarves! The worst of _all_ garden decorations. They're probably hiding bodies under them, using them as decoys to hide the ugly truth. I've seen enough films to know this is bad, Nattie."

"Everybody uses lawn ornaments" she stated stiffly to his insane mistrust over the cartoonish dwarves that decorated the edges of the beautiful golden colored home as a brown wooden fence bordered the property. If anything, it seemed like a quaint rural inn rather than Ted's ludicrous murder house; she could've humored him but was too exhausted to do so. The gate was open to await visitors but Ted eyed the happy gnomes that held axes or pipes in their pudgy fingers while wooden birds decorated the lawn for extra coziness. He blamed his irrational fear on the creepy ass dwarves his neighbors owned during his childhood because since then, he could never look at one without feeling a chill down his spine. It also hadn't helped that they faced his bedroom at all hours and the plastered inhumane smiles taunted him during stormy nights. Of course, he'd never tell anyone about that.

Randy shook his head to Ted's asinine opinion because although they were a bit ugly, it didn't mean they held ulterior menacing motives. The blond man latched onto Nattie for protection as he took on the posture of a video game soldier out on a recon mission and Randy sighed to bark sharply, "You've been watching too many scary movies, you're a grown ass man. Take charge, DiBiase."

"Nah, I prefer to live, thank you," was Ted's cheeky reply as he stuck next to an irate Nattie that was ready to beat him over the head with Samantha's open umbrella. Only he could find the most unbelievable notions for innocent everyday items or situations.

Nonetheless, they kept their senses about them as they entered unknown private land and tried to catch a glimpse of the proprietors. They didn't want to be caught as trespassers since noise lacked in the field, birds chirping in the background, and walked through the nicely decorated grass (except for Ted, who found the dwarves eerie). Matthew wanted to reach out to touch one of the wooden birds but Mike kept him moving forward to stay as a cohesive unit and not appear impolite by touching other's private property. The group reached the black painted wooden porch, the wood creaking under the weight of the men due to their combined weight and they scattered to different corners before the unthinkable happened. Leaving a gaping hole in someone's porch was not a nice way to receive welcome into their home.

Samantha stopped in front of the door, turning around to inform them carefully, "Okay, Randy, Mike, and I will take care of checking in while the rest of you take on the features of innocent babes and not the door breaking wrestlers you are. This is our only refuge from the sun so," she flashed them an outrageously wide smile and piped up, "big captivating smiles, people."

"I'm not a randomly smiling type" Randy began slowly with great reluctance since he was rather on the calm and serene side most of the time. He could get by with a sincere or small smile because faking niceties wasn't in his personality; he was direct and that wasn't going to change.

Samantha was ready to throw her hands into the air with the next stubborn head in the group as her mind shouted frantically, _'What're you doing to me, Randy? I expect you to be the main guy on board here!'_

"We tumbled through a van during your road rage euphoria so you _will_ smile and you'll _like_ it because _I_ need air conditioning" Nattie ordered firmly like a mama bear because when the bare necessities were barred from Natalie Neidhart, she'd plow her way through anything to attain them. Samantha merely stared at the two with sheepish awe as they were locked in a short staring contest and hoped that they wouldn't be discovered at that precise moment. Randy backed down from his stance since arguing with Nattie would lead nowhere and they really did need shelter, flashing a manic smile to show his surrender. She reared back in surprise to the fearsome expression, seeing no innocent twinkle in his eyes and quickly reprimanded with recoiling lips, "Ew, no. Tone it down like a kid at a birthday party, not Nicholson's 'here's Johnny' smile."

Ted grinned manically to the idea that bloomed from her comment and suggested eagerly, "Hey, we should go to that Colorado hotel and recreate-"

Samantha rang the doorbell to cut off the remainder of his words but nobody answered as they waited with the plastered expression of a happy perky group, trying again a few seconds later. When nobody answered for the third time, Ted muttered something about 'loose wandering murderers' under his breath but Samantha twisted the metal knob to find it surprisingly open. She wasn't about to give Ted further ammunition by lingering outside and they stepped into a cozy home that was decorated with antique furniture, chairs of dark wood occupying the entrance space. Chocolate hued couches were present in the living room, adjacently located to the left as a glass coffee table held magazines and a stairway lied on the right side which led to the second floor. A large desk in the center of the entrance area showed them its first occupant of the home as an elderly woman scribbled into a ledger, catching Samantha's attention and she greeted politely, "_Buon pomeriggio, signora_." (Good afternoon, ma'am)

No response.

The petite lady did nothing nor showed sign of acknowledging their presence, causing Samantha to blink in surprise since their shuffling feet had certainly made noise. Ted shook his head as they were completely ignored and leaned over to tell them quietly, "I'm telling you guys-"

A sharp hush from Randy quieted him instantly and Samantha strolled up to the desk, surprising the smaller elderly woman. Her petite hand flew to her chest in surprise, round black rimmed glasses covering her brown eyes and her snow white hair stamped her with the grandmother title as Samantha smiled amicably in greeting. However, the dark-haired woman was taken aback when the sweet looking owner smiled kindly but used the most least expected voice, yelling out cheerfully, _"Benvenuto!"_

The entire group tried not to yelp from the high pitched tone since they'd expected the little woman in the plain cerulean dress to speak softly but stereotypes had been thrown out the window. Besides the lack of decent hearing, the owner held a friendly demeanor rather than being hasty and Samantha returned the greeting while apologizing about their arrival without appointment. The elderly lady blinked with confusion and raised her finger to gently request- or in her current case- shout out, "_Che cosa? Io non ti sento!_" (what? I cannot hear you!)

"Speak up, Sam" Ted murmured pitifully as his ears began to ring painfully and tried to blend towards the back of the group but he wasn't able to bypass Stephen and Matthew, who blocked the path to preserve their own hearing. His brow furrowed to being denied temporary sanctuary and he muttered for confirmation with a glum pout, "This is because of that Ronald McDonald joke and leaving Herbie, isn't it?"

Samantha shouted out her questions about room and board, being told that rooms could be shared or kept singularly for the night as space was definitely available. Her voice wasn't made for constant yelling or hearing loud noises (she carried ear plugs everywhere due to her close proximity to the live stage) since people her age were advised to protect their hearing and she tried her best. Or maybe her hearing was just sensitive, she never really asked a doctor about that either. Randy took over when her throat became dry since his voice was naturally made for it and his deep timbre strengthened the sound. Needless to say, they carried a conversation much easier with Randy at the helm while Samantha nursed her water bottle full of warm water; it was pretty bad in taste.

Everybody took their turns signing the guestbook for quick registration but Stephen's turn brought a fat gray cat onto the table, its furry body leaning against his pale hand for a pat as he tried to write. His azure eyes widened slightly to the sight of the animal and a gentle nudge did absolutely nothing to budge it aside. Quickly, he wrote a sloppy printed name that appeared more like 'Siepnen Tarrelly' and sighed with disappointment towards the scribbly penmanship, "That's the most Ah can do."

He stifled a sneeze behind both hands since cat fur was one of his allergies, quickly leaving the table to return to the others before a sneeze attack occurred. It was a shame that he couldn't touch the friendly animal but nature had decided to ban him from nearing one without sneezing or breaking out in red rashes.

"_Insieme_? One room?" the old lady asked loudly for clarification and Samantha nodded hastily since they were pretty pooped from the long walk and too sunburned to care about reservations. The extra incentive was simply escaping the loud voices for a few minutes to relieve their abused eardrums. Plus, with cash only, they managed to afford a public room for the night and hoped everyone would fit. The group was led by the kind little lady to the largest room towards the back of the home, their footsteps heavy as they trudged while decreasing their steps to make sure nobody trampled anybody behind her.

Her hand jiggled the doorknob to pop open the wooden door to reveal a room containing several wooden bunk beds as a patio window overlooked the rear of the property, a large barn outlined in the near distance as sunlight filtered into the room. Ted quickly ran to occupy the top bunk closest to the door where he had closer access to the bathroom (wherever it was) and wouldn't be hacked to bits in case someone climbed through the window. The property owner, kindly named Claudia, merely offered words of welcome and closed the door behind her to return to her other duties around the house.

"It's a. . .we're in a hostel" Randy stated listlessly to the laidback ambience throughout the room as beds and a random coffee table were the furniture. A chair would've been nice for him since he was a bottom bunker and didn't want to be shrouded in darkness when night arrived. Stranded in the middle of a road between Florence and Rome, they were the only customers from what he could see since the second level had yet to be explored. Throwing his black suitcase onto the blue bedspread, he turned to their little travel guide as she stuffed a fat suitcase under the bed with a quick kick of her left foot and chided gently, "Samantha, we need to get you some travel and touring classes."

"Inn, hostel, whatever- it's cheap" Mike muttered tiredly since a cold dank cave would be adequate at that point, placing his luggage down on the floor and picked a bottom bunk across from Ted. He didn't want to be riddled with chocolate wrappers like any bunk mate of Ted's inside a tour bus or on a plane, remembering Randy's peanut covered lap. The last time somebody chose to sleep beside the blond during their darkest hour, Cody Runnels almost choked on a wrapper that had fallen into his open mouth during inhalation in his sleep.

"So I should just throw out my broadcast journalism, communications, and public relations degrees?" Samantha teased the dark-haired wrestler with an impish smile and imitated ripping her beloved hard earned degrees with a tearing sound. Ted blinked with bewilderment to the multiple titles and she winced at the sudden spotlight, murmuring meekly as she tapped her fingers together, "My parents enrolled me in a high school where college credit classes were half of the curriculum. It helped me to finish faster. . .I was nerdy, okay?"

Pointing to her handy tote bag dangling by her side, she pointed out quickly in her defense about the crappy situation, "They screwed up the car, not me, so there's no way we're doing business again. This recent budget cutting is starting to hurt-"

"That's one way of putting it" Stephen interrupted from his spot next to the wall near the door as he gazed into a hanging mirror to assess any changes to his skin. Ugh, the only places not tinted red were his chin and eye area. There was no question that he was going to need concealing makeup to hide the red blotches from the public and hoped no further blood vessels decided to surface to cause further dermatological mayhem. Well, at least he was out of the sun's harmful rays now.

Nattie and Samantha picked one bunk to themselves with Samantha taking the top for business matters with her laptop while Nattie desired the shade like a bat. Samantha kneeled down to open her smallest carry-on suitcase to pull out her laptop to begin working to fix any problems with the scheduling, the situation calling for another update to her superiors since abandoning the van had been the last heads up. Nattie muffled an amused laugh when Samantha fell back from her own strength at yanking the laptop out, her sandaled feet and laptop sticking into the air as she resembled a possum playing dead. Samantha joined her laughter as she stood up to place it on top of the bed for safekeeping, wiping the back of her jeans in case she picked up dust.

Randy lucked out by picking the only bed available in the room as it faced the patio window but when he bent down to sit on it, a dull thunk echoed throughout the room as the mattress was anything but soft. The sound drew everyone's attention since seeing Randy Orton bounce back up like flubber with a frown on his face as he rubbed his tailbone was enough to warrant a curious glance. They tried not to laugh aloud when he demanded immediately with distaste, "What the hell is this? Cardboard?"

"I'm telling you, man, it has 'Hostel' written all over it. . .although _they_ had comfy beds" Ted warned them with an eerie voice as he eyed the ceiling suspiciously from his bed and plopped back down on his stomach to relax. He could utter his nonsensical jokes from his bed, which was thankfully soft and plush, as he relaxed away his exhaustion. Matthew simply hurled the popular foam pillow across the room to nudge Ted on his ribs, triggering his ticklish spot immediately in which he snatched the pillow to prevent anyone catching his physical vulnerabilities. He jabbed his little white pillow towards everyone in the room and stated firmly to hide his true identity, "From now on, I'm a proud Canadian from Saskatchewan named Alex Lavertue."

"Please, don't bring shame to my country" Nattie sighed with feigned disappointment to the idea of Ted holding her country's flag, shuddering against the bed to the horrible mental image. The male wrestler simply shook a fisted arm for a silent scolding from his end, laughing into the pillow for her remark and she returned it since creating personas could be quite easy.

Stephen exclaimed in alarm when a fat brown cat practically flew at him from his bottom bunk, cursing in Gaelic when the animal scurried off to find refuge elsewhere. What was with the felines of the household suddenly following his every step? If he wasn't allergic to the pets, he would've easily patted them on the head to bestow affection but that wasn't possible. He sighed softly with a small frown when he discovered his bedspread was covered in cat hair from the lounging animal and tore it off the bed to place it onto the floor. Needing to wash off any cat hair on his clothing and refresh his stinging skin, he kindly asked for Samantha's help, "Sam, could yah do meh a favor and ask them where the bathroom is? Ah need a shower."

Samantha shot him a friendly smile since all (sane) requests would be accepted and answered courteously, "No problem. That means Nattie and I have dibs on the bathroom after you."

The other men groaned instantly to having the first bathroom slot robbed since they were all sweaty and exhausted so waiting was not ideal for any of them.

"You can't share. . .or _can_ you?" Ted asked slowly with curiosity as a lecherous smile crept onto his lips, demanding clarification.

Both women stared at him with mortification but he quickly waved his hand to dismiss it, not willing to get himself into trouble with them or his wife for his joking. Nattie shook her head since the blond allowed everything to roll off his back and let him have his fun as the jokester of their group. Stephen and Samantha left to find the owner before Ted decided to dig himself into a deeper ditch as Stephen eyed every inch of the house for furry creatures. They found the little old lady sitting on the brown couch in the living room as she knitted something in a maroon hue, her plump cats lying on either side. Stephen froze immediately to the serene sight as one touch would bring a sneezing frenzy (even hives) and leaned down to whisper warily from behind, "Ah'm allergic."

"No problem" she assured calmly as she took on the role of a bodyguard, knowing the sight must've been humorous for a woman her size to defend Stephen from cats. Unfortunately, her allergens were dust so it was a futile battle but this, she could at least do. . .especially when he resembled a sunburned porcelain doll. She called for her attention but the woman kept knitting without noticing them, humming a tune to entertain herself and the idle cats. Samantha and Stephen exchanged an awkward stare and she took a deep breath to prepare her voice, speaking louder with each second, "Ma'am? Signora? Excuse me? _Mi escusi?_"

The loudest yell in her lungs finally caught the old lady's attention and Samantha leaned against Stephen to pant since she wasn't used to speaking loudly, especially against the elderly. He steadied her with a supportive hand to the shoulder and she uttered a private thank you before clearing her throat to call out again with a friendly smile, "_Il bagno?_" (the bathroom?)

The matronly Claudia placed her knitting down on the couch (Stephen mentally winced to anyone that accidentally sat down) and stood up slowly to lead them towards the second level. Her frail fingers pointed to the stairwell as she explained to Samantha that two bathrooms were separated for both women and men, which they were welcome to use as much as they needed since they were the only guests. The wooden stairs creaked under Stephen's weight as he ascended behind the two, receiving puzzled looks from the women and Stephen coughed uncomfortably into his right hand to explain modestly, "Eh, people were smaller and lighter decades ago."

She translated it to the old woman to pass along the subtle joke and a small chuckle left her lips as Stephen tried to lower the red tinting his ears. There was nothing else on his face that could be red after the long sun exposure. The two women were tiny compared to his height of 6'4 and the narrow stairway didn't help matters any as each step screeched like a rusty hinge. This mortifying experience sealed in the reminder to never enter two-story museums of antiquity or old houses because he'd more than likely cause the same event to occur.

From downstairs, Ted wondered what the horrible creaking noise overhead originated from because staying in a haunted house was not in his itinerary. True, it might be fun for the eccentric experience (who didn't love Ghostbusters?) but he didn't want to suffer a heart attack at the tender age of twenty-nine and shoved the thoughts out of his mind. Maybe it was a hungry raccoon trapped in a linen closet. Clutching his pillow underneath his cheek, he gazed through the back window and took notice of the blue afternoon sky blending into a muted blue-gray which would eventually tint with orange. He pondered on the whereabouts of his colleague, hoping a coyote hadn't decided to maul on his leg on the side of the road, and asked aloud with curiosity, "So, how do you think John's doin'?"

"You could just call" Mike stated simply as he decided to take a nap until it was time to be rescued or resume the walk north of the road when morning arrived. There was no way he was walking along a highway through the night or early dawn when dangerous folk or animals could be wandering about. Either way, he needed energy and snapped on his sleeping mask to snooze away despite the noise within the room.

* * *

_Elsewhere on the main road. . ._

"Don't worry, guys, I'm goin' to save the lot of ya" John declared aloud with determination between pants to boost his energy as he kept his steady jog north of the road. The flimsy backpack he'd brought along with food and extra water slapped against his back as he took on the running posture of a marathoner, drawing a few curious stares from passengers in cars. Who knew, maybe a few recognized him.

There was a decent amount of sunlight as he read four o'clock on his watch and hoped he was making good time in reaching a gas station. If they could get a tow truck out there to fix the van, then all would all right with the world and he wouldn't be in trouble by missing an appearance. He wasn't about to let down his fans by being stuck out alongside a highway but if that occurred, well, a quick video showing his dilemma would be sure to draw laughter.

"Ah! Leg cramp! Very bad leg cramp!"

He halted his run immediately and held the twitching hind muscle in his lower left leg, rubbing it quickly to bring back the normal sensation and drive away bothersome Charlie horses. Slamming his foot against the ground helped a bit by contracting the muscles and he slung the backpack off his shoulder to grin proudly, "It's a good thing I brought a banana."

Hey, you are what you eat.

Before he could take a bite out of his snack, his cell phone rang with a familiar clip from television, "Respect my authori-_tah_! Respect my authori-_tah_! Respect-"

It could only be from one person who found such hilarity within that one quote but Ted changed his ring tone about every week to suit his attitude. John preferred last week's 'DiBiase Posse' but nonetheless, answered with a distracted voice, "Yes, Ted? I'm running along a highway here."

His colleague's voice sounded both lethargic and sleepy over the line, "Give me an update, bro."

"Still alive and no sign of a gas station," were his simple words of an update since Ted usually spun the truth into an entire story, whether true or not, John would have no idea. He would find out the truth eventually since Randy put a stop to his wild theories and made him spit out the unembellished truth.

* * *

The group felt out of place being the only people at the inn/hostel, especially when Samantha and Matthew witnessed dinner being slaughtered out back in the farm area of the private land. Well, they had paid extra for a meal and discovered that Claudia's husband was a pretty good farmer. Plus, it was the order of life to be predator or prey, or be a vegetarian, but they couldn't help but feel pity for the poor hen. They didn't tell Ted for fear that he'd hit the road as a lone wolf and end up lost somewhere between Rome and Florence or knowing him, he'd travel all the way to France. When dinner was served on a nicely set table with glassware, Matthew and Samantha visibly paled to seeing the delicious golden hen on the table while everybody else salivated to it.

Everybody was on their best behavior, even Ted, but that was probably due to the scrumptious meal since food of any kind satiated the man like a newborn puppy. Stephen, however, was having serious issue with all of the home's cats as they seemed oddly attracted toward him and they weren't small in number. He'd even named a few during the short hours spent there: Babby, a black longhair kitten that almost everyone ran across; Muzzy, a brown shorthair that kept swiping at his shoes and mysteriously appeared to leap out at him (mostly in his bed); Spot, a ragamuffin that tended to follow him all over the place without stop; Ted, a brown Rex that kept meowing for attention in his presence like his current colleague, and. . .

Butterball, a golden-brown Chausie that had now jumped onto the table where he was eating and was proceeding to circle around his plate with a predatory gleam in its golden eyes. He stared at the feline with bewilderment to its daring nature, clearly asserting its authority to be on the table and Stephen couldn't help but feel like a toy. Would he ever be free for ten minutes without a cat entering his vicinity? Nattie couldn't help but preen from across the table as she sat opposite of him and smirked mischievously, "Someone's become their cat nip."

"Away with yeh" Stephen tried to shoo the cat with the gentlest voice in order not to offend anyone but the owners seemed oblivious to their wandering cats as they watched television in the living room. Again, both were pretty deaf to their conversations (even at the highest setting) so vision could've also been faulty at this point. Either way, he didn't want to risk it out of respect for the elderly couple but the cats really were starting to drive him insane with the constant meowing and skin contact. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait very long this time to see the animal make its departure.

The cat quickly left the table, _after_ stealing the succulent hen leg off his china plate and dashing across the table to jump off towards the living room. Hennigan quickly covered his plate with his arms as the cat almost stepped into his dining spot and sighed in sweet relief that his meal remained in one piece. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the redheaded man. Stephen clenched his fists in mortified rage that a cat of all creatures made off with his only dinner for the night and stabbed his roasted rosemary herb potatoes with his fork. Well, at least the potatoes were delicious. Still, how could he allow himself to be defeated by a cat? A second later brought him to cover his mouth instantly as he sneezed allergically to the recent cat visit, already feeling his nasal cavities congest to the allergen.

Samantha felt instant guilt for his trouble since she was meant to ensure their accommodations were decently comfortable throughout their journey, despite the budgeting paperwork, and stabbed her breast piece with her fork. She'd inadvertently caused the sunburns stinging his face and with a sympathetic smile, placed it on his half-empty plate while sitting next to him (by Nattie's crafty doing). Before he could object or say anything to the generous offer, she insisted kindly to dissuade any protests, "Your diet requires tons more protein than mine and Ted has a bunch of bologna sandwiches in his lunch bag. He might burn down a kitchen to cook food but he sure knows how to make one heck of a mean sandwich."

"So true, my 'wiches are ambrosia!" Ted agreed proudly with a mouthful of chewed food that caused everyone to wince at the unfavorable sight. Nattie grasped her cloth napkin to fling it at him to close his mouth, the bolus of food disappearing down his gullet to never return and she shook his head to his dinner behavior like an older sister. He tried to win her favor by unleashing the irresistible puppy eyes as his blue orbs boosted the power of the look but Nattie remained unfazed by it, simply aiming a deadpan expression daring him to continue. There was an immediate surrender on his part because he wasn't about to test her wrath during a delicious dinner and returned to nibbling on a fat juicy hen leg. Nothing beat a deliciously cooked home meal. . .great, now he felt homesick.

From the other side of the table, Stephen tried to persuade Samantha's choice to hand over her food by quickly refusing, "Sam-"

"You cannot reject a lady's gift, especially food, because it's yummy" she grinned smartly to clearly show she didn't accept returns and resumed eating her salad to show negotiations were now over. The romaine salad was pretty darn good with its vinaigrette so that would fill her stomach quite easily with the leftover potatoes and vegetables. Besides, seeing that poor hen killed really sucked the fun out of eating the animal. Stephen, on the other hand, smiled gratefully to the kind gesture because he was starving and leaned down to protect his new piece of chicken from any incoming cat barrages.

Five minutes didn't pass when another cat strolled by, a calico this time, just as Stephen reached for a fresh warm piece of bread in a basket and it brushed against an herb butter stick laid out for them. His face fell to the awful sight since everyone raved it was pretty scrumptious butter but it seemed his luck had run out for the day- or more accurately, since he'd arrived in Italy. Ted bit back a disgusted groan to seeing butter used as a scratching post and released it a second later since the old couple was hard of hearing. The wrestlers wasted no time in finishing their disrupted meal, wary of the new cat after seeing the last steal food, and took their drinks to go as they scattered to entertain themselves in their shared room.

Well, everyone except Ted, who was taught that dinner ended at the table despite numerous prowling felines and kept eating his meal in silence. When a black cat roamed by his feet, he kept a cautious eye on its fast reflexes but smiled amusingly, "Hey, how ya doin'?"

Elsewhere, a pudgy cat was hot on Stephen's trail as if he were catnip.

* * *

**A/N**: A super long chapter but I had fun with it, especially with Ted's irrational fear of innocent super smiley lawn gnomes. And poor Stephen, wishing to pet a cat but he can't for fear of an allergic reaction. We'll conclude their adventure in the inn next time as the group will eventually reach Florence to carry on in their trip and Samantha will finally summon her courage to ask Stephen on a date. I'll be changing the group by the next chapters to stay with the current rosters so stay tuned for that.

Thank you for sticking with my story and for my last chapter reviewers, I appreciate the feedback to build this story to your liking:

_Skywhisper_: I'm proud that I was able to make you laugh, that is my triumph with this story. I like channeling most of it through Ted since his YouTube channel about Dibiase Posse parties make me laugh.

_Deathdaisy_: Thanks so much for loving the story, I'm glad Samantha's likable as I try to make her an average person that tends to fall into mayhem with the wrestlers. I can't wait to put her in the chapter about the Pamplona bull run.

_kakashisnumber1fangirl_: Yes, humor keeps prevailing in this story and I hope this one tickled your funny bone.

* * *

**Next Time: S, For Super-Samantha  
**

Dawn arrived on the lonely road headed to Florence, the lost group of travelers wandering the empty roadside in the hopes of seeing one of their colleagues driving a car. They sorely needed rescue at this point, especially when cigarette butts, empty cans, and dirty diapers littered the road with their distinct unfavorable smells. Their group was too large for any passerby to take them to a nearby gas station so they stuck together like a group of meerkats. That and most cars thought they were a group of backpackers hiking in an early search for a hostel since an Irishman, a Canadian, and six Americans fit the qualifications.

They had stuck to the road for safety during the rest of the night to prevent becoming lost or mauled by wildlife. Ted had wailed in horror for a pretty good while when his foot entered a gaping hole of a road killed possum, lamenting the poor creature, but they kept moving. A mud covered Hennigan was more than ready to find a bathroom where he could wash the nasty grime off his body, the mud water already dry and caked. The bright lights from passing cars had reflected off Stephen's pale complexion many times and he was sure it had frightened a few drowsy children with the mistake of a rampant ghost on the highway.

"Isn't that a beautiful sight?" Samantha sighed softly with relief as the first rays of sunlight pierced the lilac-gray hue of dawn and began to bathe the land by bringing a new day. She couldn't wait for the sunlight this time, a horrible irony that wasn't lost to her as her cold skin yearned to bask in it. Her body was weary from the lack of sleep, her suitcases dragging behind her lethargically as she murmured quietly to encourage the other tired wrestlers, "We survived."

"I'd feel better if we could find a way home" Ted grumbled crankily as he shivered in his spot, hugging his sweater closely against his body but retrieved his phone from his pocket to snap a picture of the breaking day. With light bathing the highway now, everyone shut off their flashlights but Ted snapped a picture of Hennigan and Stephen. There was no way he could let an opportunity slide by to poke fun and quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket, shivering with chattering teeth to admit woefully, "I c-can't feel my fingers. Hey, Sam, Nattie, can you please keep me warm before I suffer h-hypothermia?"

The women were too cold to decline since he was being honest for once in his life and they were freezing themselves in the early morning. Who'd a thought morning could be so cold? Nattie drew Ted close by wrapping her right arm around his waist and he rested his arm across her and Samantha's shoulder to keep a good grip that would keep the cold at bay. The three huddled together cozily like baby cubs during the winter as they walked along together, leading the others to sigh in disbelief to their little plan. Randy didn't mind since he'd added numerous layers of sweaters and coats over the night to keep warm but his legs were now enduring drafts of cold wind that seeped underneath the end of his trousers.

"In our defense, you're covered in dry mud, John" Nattie told the brunette with a sheepish face to declining help since he resembled a swamp monster rather than a chiseled living statue. John merely sighed under his breath, cursing himself for forgetting to keep an eye on the road- a simple mistake that cost him both his appearance and a chance at warmth.

"Yeah, let's have a group huddle like sheep" Matthew piped up quickly since only Samantha and Nattie had kept close to keep warm while everyone else wandered the road like zombies. Mike wasn't ready hug him through a highway and quickly scooted over to Samantha to seize the empty space, settling in as the fourth baby bear to join the cozy group. Matthew wasn't about to be dissuaded because he certainly didn't want to die of hypothermia in the middle of a highway and tried to gain Stephen's approval on it by finishing, "Right? They're always cozy in bundles."

"Just because Ah'm from the Isle doesn't mean Ah've seen sheep my whole life" the redhead pointed out to scratch off that stereotype and the group looked to him for further deliberation, eager to learn about Irish culture. The roster held people of diverse cultures and most were always enthusiastic to learn about parts of the world they'd yet to see since wrestling tours would eventually lead them internationally (as they currently were). He blinked with surprise at seeing everyone's gazes turned towards him and crossed his arms to warm himself and kick himself for falling into his own verbal trap. Gritting his teeth as he tried to keep them from chattering, he avoided their gazes and reluctantly admitted, "All right, Ah saw a sheep once in a while during field trips in primary school."

"Don't forget your fat sheep at home" Ted reminded quickly and licked his dry lips as he fantasized about eating a warm meal within a room with a burning fireplace. Oh, how he wanted to be in a warm bed at this moment and imagined little plump sheep that could barely stand under their weight jumping over picket fences, exhaling longingly with hunger, "Oh man, I could imagine the delicious lamb chops they'd make, fat and succulent with a side of mashed potatoes-"

Stephen stopped walking to jam a finger towards Ted's face and ordered briskly to defend his innocent animals, "Stop talking about meh sheep-"

A sudden honk alerted the group and they turned to see a modern navy van on the opposite road, its turning signals flickering as it waited for traffic to clear to make an illegal U-turn. Thankfully, with dawn barely on the horizon, the road was empty so it didn't have long to wait as the group watched the approaching car intently with wariness. Ted hoped somebody had recognized them and decided to take pity on them, promising to shower them with a Dibiase Posse party if they weren't about to be kidnapped. Their uncertainty turned to rejoicing relief as they watched John make his triumphant return, the car rolling up to them as Anthony had tagged along in the passenger seat to help with the search. He waved his arm to the weary group in welcome, glad to see they were all right after being told of their dilemma, as he declared jovially, "We found you at last!"


	8. Dial S, For Super Samantha

**Dial S, For Super-Samantha  
**

* * *

It was a cozy starry night at eleven at night when the earth shook violently, sending everyone scrambling to their beds where they'd be safe or to the doorways to cling on. They hadn't expected an earthquake this late! The rumble strengthened and before they knew it, the horn of an incoming train barreled down through the southern wall with a shake that frightened everyone. Samantha could only sigh in frightened regret to their chosen stay since she never expected train tracks to be present nearby and wondered how the poor barn animals slept since they were undoubtedly closer. The night had been pretty serene up until that point and hoped that the loud echoing horn would disappear soon, along with the frightening quakes of the train's strength. Nattie and Stephen were unfortunately occupied in the respective bathrooms upstairs as they freshened up for the night while everybody else had been preparing to sleep. Of course, this didn't help those already in bed sound asleep as they jolted awake from their shaking beds and the sudden yelling from above.

"What the-" Randy shouted in alarm as the shaking had sent him into his fight-or-flight mode, throwing his blankets aside to find the culprit that had awoken him. It was times like this that he missed having a wooden bat around for extra safety in case he found somebody stronger than himself. Samantha wasn't looking forward to telling him it was all from an innocently large train rolling by rather than an earthquake or intruder.

"Ah! My eyes!" Nattie shouted painfully from up above as her facial cleanser entered her eyes from the tremors, blinding her momentarily as she sought water from the sink. With her hands soapy and wet, it didn't aid in gripping the metal faucet to turn it on and gritted her teeth furiously. Stomping her foot in frustration to her rotten luck, she demanded shrilly to her current predicament, "Why, Lancôme? Why?"

From the men's room, Stephen's razor skewed between his fingers from the sudden shift in balance and it sliced into his perfectly styled facial hair when the heavy tremors struck. His blue eyes widened in horror as the blade cut the left side of the facial hair framing his jaw line rather than his jugular that lay an inch away. The man stood petrified to the unexpected slip of the hand and his uneven appearance, snapping out of it when the floor shook harder under his feet. At this, he dropped the disposable razor into the sink in dismay to what had just occurred and gripped the mirror to shout mournfully, "No! Oh, sweet Jaysus, NO!"

His loud commotion, not to mention his horrified tone, brought Samantha and Mike running up towards the bathroom with the utmost haste. Had he fallen and broken a foot? Accidentally cut himself? Samantha knocked on the door of the woman's bathroom while Mike took the other, asking if they were all right in there. Nattie replied she was as she'd managed to open the faucets halfway to wipe her face clean of the stinging foam cleanser in her eyes while Stephen mourned the loss of his facial hair, uttering a halfhearted okay. Samantha wasn't reassured by Stephen's voice and hoped he hadn't accidentally hurt himself or fallen into the bathtub. Mike quickly ushered the two out of the bathrooms before matters worsened by ordering, "Get out of there. The last thing we want is you guys breaking a mirror with your faces. There are no hospitals out here so be careful."

Nattie opened the door first as she used a towel to twist the doorknob rather than joinder her freedom with her wet hands and had her toiletry bag in her arms, sending Samantha over to check her like a mother hen for any injuries. All three were surprised but said nothing when they spotted Stephen and his awkward shave, shutting their mouths completely when they caught sight of the glare on his sunburned face. It wasn't directed towards them but they weren't about to poke a frustrated bear. When the rumbling ceased completely, all four scrambled downstairs for safety. . .only to find several beds in different locations than their originally spots. Randy sat up in bed (which had thankfully not moved) with a scowl on his stern features, tapping his fingers over his knee in suppressed rage and stated lowly, "This is _not_ the kind of sleep I wanted tonight. I prefer mine _without_ deafening train sounds."

"Could one of you guys move me back there?" Ted asked tiredly with a hopeful voice as his bed had moved directly across from the rear wall with the patio window to Randy's bed. Samantha couldn't imagine how it all must've looked because she'd never witnessed anything like that in her life. His suitcases managed to stay on the lower bunk throughout the shaking and he stared at Randy, seeing as they were now neighbors and piped up pleasantly with a charismatic grin, "Hey there, buddy."

Randy buried his head in his hands to the misery he'd awoken to while Nattie fixed her stuff, picking clothes off the floor that had fallen from her open suitcase. Hastily, she stuffed all of her items into the suitcase to zip it up to prevent another summersault of clothing because the last thing she wanted were her unmentionables spilling all over the place. Samantha tried to keep the order since everyone had experienced a jolt late in the night and suggested gently, "Let's just move everything back into place. I'm sure it's just one train for tonight, what're the odds that-"

Train horns cut off the rest of her sentence, causing everyone to cover their ears as the painfully loud noise zoomed by and Samantha closed her mouth as her voice was drowned out.

"Crap, it's coming back!" Mike yelled out frantically as the blaring sound had been the ominous precursor to the trembling and quickly hung onto a nearby bed post for protection. Hopefully, the bed would stay and the ceiling wouldn't fall on him.

Samantha quickly scrambled onto the top bunk with Nattie, the two huddling together like lost kittens as they sought refuge from the rumbling. Randy's bed decided to be the hockey puck this time and the metal bed creaked in protest as it began rotating around the room with a dull thumping, moving away from Ted's bunk as the blond waved goodbye to his departing friend. He was left alone in the center of the room and hoped his own bunk wouldn't topple over while Randy fought whether to bail on his bed or stay, much to his chagrin. The women yelled at Stephen to move seconds later and he managed to grip their bed, jumping on top of the lower bunk as he narrowly avoid being plowed into by Randy's wayward bed. Both women grasped the redhead by the arms to keep him in place during the tremors while Randy's bed receded from theirs to roam elsewhere. As for Mike, Matthew, and John, they managed to stay in safely in place as they watched Randy's bed with mystified intrigue.

"_Cén fáth nach raibh mé a chur ar an traein_?" Stephen sighed dismally to the awful night he was experiencing, burying his face into the comforter but thanking the women in a muffled voice for their help. ('Why didn't I take the train?')

"_No puedo creer esto_" Samantha mumbled disappointedly to join whatever Stephen had said because the day had gone entirely wrong since setting foot on that creaky old van. While its journey in life had come to a full circle, theirs continued in a roller coaster of adrenaline and she patted the top of his spiky head in sympathy. The walls continued rattling surreally, sending goosebumps down her back as she longed for home- or any safe spot- and Nattie glanced upwards at the ceiling as she hoped hoped it wouldn't cave in. ('I can't believe this')

"People, _one _language!" Randy shouted in warning over their rabble up front as the entire area shook but he wanted to hear the insults of their crappy day in English so he could bask in them. . .and add one in himself.

Ted, who was pretty much wary at that point since he remained in the center of the room where his bed had no protection if it toppled over, made the most sense as he declared, "Let's bail!"

"Wait, maybe we can get help from the owners" Samantha suggested feebly from the top as she tried to find an answer that would keep them housed safely for the night. After all, they were her responsibility and had to prove she could handle everything that was thrown at her. . .otherwise, she might as well start searching for another job. This was a gigantic franchise that spanned worldwide and if she couldn't get the superstars to their scheduled cities or manage her backstage duties, either would be a huge mistake.

"With all this noise, it's plausible to assume it caused their deafness to begin with!" Mike pointed out sarcastically since he doubted they'd awake to her knocking if the train failed to do so. All of them had been frightened out of their wits instantly! They couldn't even hear a peep from their room overhead and he assumed they were sleeping comfortably while his group was avoiding heart attacks from fright. He wanted to get a decent night's sleep and if venturing out on the road would help him find another place, it was a tempting idea. He'd take camping in the middle of nowhere at this point as long as it took him away from the dreadful noise. Another shockwave shook the floor beneath his feet and he called over to Samantha to declare, "Forget it, Sam, I'd rather get on the road."

"But it's warm here and out there, we'll freeze" she stated matter-of-factly to what he was suggesting at this hour of the night and it would only grow colder with the passing hours. If it had been winter, she'd have been more worried but still! They didn't know what lurked in the empty road at this hour and they were a long way from civilization to seek help if someone became hurt or bitten.

Nattie, Stephen, and Matthew agreed with her, blowing into a pro and con argument about the matter as one argued safety over deafness. Randy merely ignored them and proceeded to wrap himself into a cocoon to return to sleep without rearranging his bed, which had ended up near the entrance as its final destination. Ted had decided to open a bag of crispy potato chips and binge on the salty snack for a few minutes since the group was still mulling over their options, eyeing the feuding parties with curiosity. Five minutes into the discussion, another train rolled by with its deafening horns and Stephen changed his vote completely. He covered both ears tightly to seal out the noise, his fingers digging into his scarlet hair as he closed his eyes to the horrible horn and demanded tiredly, "How many trains can possibly pass by?"

"Who votes. . .on leaving. . .now?" Mike shouted to everyone within the room as he used silent gaps between the blaring horns to make his voice heard. Otherwise, he would've made himself hoarse trying to repeat his words over and over. Samantha tried to head upstairs to seek answers from the owners but when everyone started packing up, she was left with no choice but to follow. After all, she couldn't really wrestle all of them to seal them within the room for their safeties, could she? That and risk being abandoned by the gang while she sought help from upstairs.

The creaking floorboards didn't give away their hasty getaway as they scrambled to flee the house with their luggage underneath their arms, knowing full well that the owners wouldn't detect their fumbling downstairs. They were certain of that when Ted accidentally knocked over a wooden chair that he'd missed in the dark and had fixed it while cursing under his breath for the new bruise. Flashlights shone in the dark as Randy quickly popped open the front door, thankful that there was no security alarm and everyone ran for freedom to the outside. He closed the door after locking it from the inside to keep the nice elderly couple safe inside since they had offered them a nice evening, just not a quiet night. Matthew, Ted, and John couldn't contain their glee to escape the sounds echoing through the night and had bounded forward into the darkness with quiet laughter. The women were just plain thankful that there weren't any dogs wandering the premises because they had no dog repellant or heavy bandages.

The moon shone brightly that night as it neared its fullness and the shining stars granted them light to find their way towards the highway but in the dead of night, it was easier said than done.

"How the hell are we supposed to find a highway in the middle of a forest?" Randy complained irritably as he was already sleep deprived and a loud clonk, mostly likely a protruding branch, resounded a second later. His bags fell onto the dirt in a crash as he grasped the top of his head to rub his newest bruise, jumping away from the invisible branch to growl painfully, "_Ow!_ Damn it!"

"Thank you!" Matthew piped up warily since the pitch black darkness sent a shiver down his spine to what lurked around them. Were predators roaming somewhere in the forest surrounding them, ready to drag them into the wilderness to devour them? Either way, he wasn't risking it and huddled close to the wandering group since watching Animal Planet on cable had taught him herds survived longer than solitary creatures so he was sticking close. He ran alongside the women with his luggage, keeping a cautious eye to their surroundings and asked curiously, "So, who's leading?"

The group halted their daring escape to mull over the question since scattering in all directions would have them lost and a few moments of silence passed before a unanimous decision was reached, "Stephen."

The Irishman could only blink with utter confusion at the pitch black darkness surrounding him as they put him in charge of everything, wondering what sound logic brought _that_ decision. He didn't want to end up being their scapegoat in case somebody was lost along the way and although he didn't know who was around him, blurted sarcastically, "Oh sure, put meh in front to face danger."

"Dude, you practically glow in the dark like a beacon" John pointed out with a snicker that quickly resounded throughout the group since he was pretty pale in the night. Even the flashlights illuminated his porcelain skin and Stephen took this time in their laughing bout to strike him over the head with his flashlight. He had to start nipping these jokes in the bud before he created a smorgasbord. The brunette man yelped as his puffy white coat squeaked when he raised hands to nurse the bruise and snapped indignantly, "_Ow!_ We're not on camera, asshole!"

Samantha separated the two wrestlers before their panic drove them into fist fighting and broke the tension by stating easily to seek peace, "I choose Stephen because he's the tallest and can outrun any of us. . .also if a predator happens to come by, he can probably fight it with his bare hands."

An echoing 'oh yeah' sounded off from the group while the redhead stared in utter disbelief at what they were basically implying. They were willing to sacrifice him as a human shield to the wildlife in exchange for their safeties? Well, so much for the kind friendship he'd counted on when he traveled alongside them. On the other hand, being flattered by a woman in regards to being the number one protector among a group of his male peers dissipated any outbursts he might've had. Still, he wouldn't tempt fate by having to prove himself and told the assistant gently, "Sam, Ah might be strong but Ah'm not _that _strong."

Silence echoed to the harsh truth and Mike completely burst Stephen's heroic bubble when he muttered under his breath, "We should've brought Mark with us. The man is a living tank."

Stephen grit his teeth with sheer disbelief to their doubts of him when a mere second ago, they'd been pleading for his leadership to traverse the dark forest. He took off down the dirt path that his flashlight outlined in the darkness since it had been the only route to the hostel, slowing down slightly when the women complained about his long strides. He often forgot the women weren't anywhere near his stature and granted them the chance to catch up because he was still a gentleman, even in the middle of the night. Samantha, Nattie, and Ted juggled with their bags as they followed any hint of pale skin that their flashlights struck and Mike groaned miserably as he ran behind them, "He better have that luck of the Irish with him. I wasn't looking to do cardio work at midnight in the outdoors."

"No negative stereotyping! This is why other countries criticize America" Samantha scolded hastily to his chosen set of words and hopped over a few random rocks on the road before she tripped on them. She'd never walked anywhere in this kind of darkness as only the moon illuminated the night and it was eerie to see such darkness that only flashlights could penetrate. It had the makings of a horror movie and she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind as she kept her flashlight pinned on Stephen's back, allowing her feminine side to laugh at the idea of pointing it lower. Well, at least her sense of human had stayed entirely intact.

"No way, you couldn't be more wrong!" Ted intervened to protect his homeland at all costs like any proud citizen since nothing beat a mouthwatering barbecue on a hot day, especially during tailgate parties. Oh man, how he wanted to eat a juicy steak or order pizza right about now and longed for a decent hotel with room service. He snuggled into his warm jacket to create heat, holding his belongings in his arms for added friction, and piped up proudly with a sappy grin, "We're adorable!"

"Theodore, if I'm American and I question the decaying dignity of our society, what makes you think the rest of the world fares any better?" Samantha stated matter-of-factly but laughed to the humor in his voice, making the blond gasp dramatically. She could never hold a straight face whenever he spoke a rebuttal. If there was anyone she wanted by her side during tense or crazy moments, it was Ted Dibiase, because he would allow her to retain her sanity with his insanity.

"Blasphemy!" Ted declared manically as he used humor to keep himself from wondering where the hell they were and shuddered under his warm coat since the temperature was colder outside than it had been within the house. He remembered they walked for more than a half hour until they stumbled upon it so he assumed they were in for the same with this trip, given that Stephen could follow the path without derailing towards the forest. His teeth chattered for a moment as he forgot to put on a beanie to cover his head from the cold and chuckled softly, "Or the cold could be zapping my brain."

Stephen sighed under his breath because he wasn't going to carry the blond if he decided he was mysteriously afflicted with hypothermia in the middle of an Italian summer night. Ted had done crazier stunts before so he wouldn't put it past him, remembering his fake hypoglycemic moment at Dolce Gelato in Arkansas which had robbed Stephen of a nice ice cream sundae. Pointing his flashlight a few feet ahead of the road to make sure he didn't deviate, he spoke aloud to where he'd last seen Samantha at, "If yah get tired of this, yer more than welcome in Ireland."

"Sweet, where do I get a visa? I love the way you guys pronounce Ireland" she chuckled amusingly to keep the light mood ongoing, leading Ted to object indignantly over casting aside their country like that. His promises of cookies increased her laughter, causing Nattie to join her as well, as he vowed to bake goods for their allegiance. Her attempt to stir up a fun mood almost went awry when her flashlight didn't spot the back of Stephen's gray jacket ahead of her and she called out worriedly, "Stephen, please don't leave us behind! Not all of us are over six feet high!"

The redhead stopped in his track to give the group time to catch up because quite honestly, he'd no idea _where_ he was going since their destination was quite far. He was pretty much following the North Star in the sky along with the road to see what luck it gave because finding the highway was the main priority. After that. . .well, he'd use his Google maps app to lead him straight into Florence and hope for the best. Surprisingly, the women caught up to him first as they'd been trying to keep up with him at all costs and he flashed his light over their heads in signal to beckon the rest. Samantha locked arms with Nattie to make sure they didn't separate from each other since two brains were better than one, panting tiredly as she decided once and for all, "No more luggage, only backpacks after this. . .especially with our. . .adventuring."

John was the first to complain from the lagging group as he approached from the far side of the road on the right, "Hey, Celtic Warrior-"

He didn't get to finish his words as ironic karma kicked in and he tripped over a large gaping dark hole in the ground that he failed to see on his way over to them. A loud splash was heard and everyone pointed their flashlights immediately to pinpoint their fallen friend since they hadn't noticed anything but then again, everyone had stretched out all over the dirt road towards the highway. Randy was first on the chaotic scene with his flashlight and discovered that the usually handsome John Hennigan was covered in dirty mud water within a ditch. The shocked brunette cried out in pure disgust from the brown grime sticking on him from head to toe, swiping at the air with frustration as he resembled the monster from the black lagoon.

Stephen had almost forgotten about that ditch as they'd seen it on their way in and had walked around it to avoid falling in. He was incredibly lucky to have avoided it on his path in the night because his blemished skin would've suffered horribly, along with his iron pressed clothes. John's suitcase floated around the waist deep muddy water and Matthew leaned down to grab it carefully to help his friend but didn't want to join the mud bath. Hennigan was left to pull himself back onto the surface by gripping protruding roots or rocks until he landed on the dusty road where everyone surrounded him in a curious circle, their faces mixed in shock and humor.

"Arrgh, gross! There's dirty water in my mouth!" he spat disgustedly as he coughed to clear his mouth of any dirty water, spitting onto the dirt while gagging at what he could've swallowed, and swiped at his drenched clothes in the hopes that the water would seep out. Ugh, he was going to be dirty and freezing cold by the end of the night. They decided to take pity on him rather than laugh or joke to his abrupt misfortune, waiting on him patiently until he stood up to gag miserably, "This is the worst night of my life."

"Less whining and more walking, we'll keep warmer that way" Randy ordered the group to keep them moving like a platoon sergeant and they hobbled along obediently, the rolling wheels of their luggage adding noise to their footsteps. This time, they traveled together as one tightknit troop on the road as Stephen shone the flashlight at the head of the group to keep the path in sight. Randy took up the rear to make sure none wandered away and watched them scuttle along the road, encouraging them by keeping the military persona, "There we go. 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2. . .3, 4."

"Can I switch leaders? Randy's gonna make us recite 'Sound Off', I just know it" Ted asked Stephen with a mischievous grin hidden in the dark, causing the redhead to growl under his breath to the blond's comment as it poked his ire. This wasn't a primary school field trip where everyone needed a buddy to hold hands with, but the fact that he was being cast aside like a wet Kleenex for Randy made him feel like the unwanted black sheep of the group. He really was trying his best to keep them together and safe despite he never wanted the responsibility.

"Ah never asked to be leader!" he pointed out hastily since they threw the position at him and heard Randy chuckle lowly from behind, glad that somebody was experiencing the mayhem attached to leading them. Stephen could see why he decided to stay behind whenever large groups were involved because keeping charge of grown adults, especially when Ted was included, was harder than herding a flock of sheep. Leadership was not one of his best traits, resorting to motivational speaking to get people moving (and believing in him) and jabbed a finger to the brightest star in the sky. He moved the flashlight towards the glittering black sky and down the road for emphasis, stating clearly to grab their attention, "We move left since the highway led north and the star above us leads in that direction."

Ted deemed that information viable since the dirt road led west and piped up with a bright smile that peeked through the luminance of his flashlight, "Okay, my faith in you has been completely redeemed."

* * *

Dawn arrived on the lonely road headed to Florence, the lost group of travelers wandering the empty roadside in the hopes of seeing one of their colleagues driving a car. They sorely needed rescue at this point, especially when cigarette butts, empty cans, and dirty diapers littered the road with their distinct unfavorable smells to nauseate a few of them. Their group was too large for any passerby to take them to a nearby gas station so they stuck together like a group of meerkats through the dark night. That and most cars probably assumed they were a group of backpackers hiking in an early search for a hostel since an Irishman, a Canadian, and six Americans fit the qualifications.

They had stuck to the road for safety during the rest of the night to prevent becoming lost or mauled by wildlife. Ted had wailed in horror for a pretty good while when his foot accidentally entered a gaping hole of a road killed possum, lamenting the poor creature's fate, but they kept moving. A mud covered Hennigan was more than ready to find a bathroom where he could wash the nasty grime off his body, the mud water already dry and caked over his clothes. The bright lights from passing cars had reflected off Stephen's pale complexion many times and he was sure it had frightened a few drowsy children with the mistake of a rampant well-dressed ghost wandering the highway.

"Isn't that a beautiful sight?" Samantha sighed softly with relief as the first rays of sunlight pierced the lilac-gray hue of dawn and began to bathe the green pastures by bringing a new day. She couldn't wait for the sunlight this time, a horrible irony that wasn't lost to her as her cold skin yearned to bask in it. Her body was weary from the lack of sleep and she didn't want to drink any cold water from her bottle as her throat had become dry from the long endless walk. Her suitcases dragged behind her lethargically as she murmured triumphantly to encourage the other tired wrestlers around her, "We survived."

"I'd feel better if we could find a way home" Ted grumbled crankily as he shivered in his spot, hugging his jacket closely against his body but retrieved his phone from his pocket to snap a picture of the breaking day. It was a worthy a snapshot to keep. With light bathing the highway now, everyone shut off their flashlights to give their arms a rest but Ted snapped a picture of Hennigan's mud covered form and Stephen's bad shaving incident. There was no way he could let an opportunity for future blackmail or poking fun slide by and quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket, shivering with chattering teeth from the dry cold morning to admit woefully, "I c-can't feel my fingers. Hey, Sam, Nattie, can you please keep me warm before I suffer h-hypothermia?"

The women were too cold to decline since he was being honest for once in his life and they were freezing themselves in the early morning. Who'd a thought morning could be so cold? It was a good thing they hadn't been in a more northern country or they would've been frozen icicles by that point. Nattie drew Ted close by wrapping her right arm around his waist and he rested his arm across her and Samantha's shoulder to keep a good grip that would keep the cold at bay. The three huddled together cozily like baby cubs during a winter frost as they walked along together, leading the others to sigh in disbelief to their little ingenious plan. Randy didn't mind being a lone wolf since he'd added numerous layers of sweaters and coats throughout the night to keep warm but his legs were now enduring drafts of cold wind that seeped underneath the end of his jeans.

"In our defense, you're covered in dry mud, John" Nattie told the unfortunate brunette with a sheepish face to declining help since he resembled a swamp monster rather than a chiseled living statue. John merely sighed under his breath, cursing himself for forgetting to keep an eye on the road- a simple mistake that cost him both his appearance and a chance at warmth.

"Yeah, let's have a group huddle like sheep" Matthew suggested with optimism since only Samantha and Nattie had kept close to stay warm through the night while everyone else wandered the road like zombies. Mike wasn't ready hug him through a highway and quickly scooted over to Samantha to seize the empty space for himself, settling in as the fourth baby bear to join the cozy group. Randy and Stephen had half a mind to knock him aside for his crafty ingenuity as the last spot was seized before their eyes and both men braved the cold on their own. Matthew wasn't about to be dissuaded because he certainly didn't want to die of hypothermia in the middle of a highway and tried to gain Stephen's approval on it by finishing, "Right? They're always cozy in bundles."

"Just because Ah'm from the Isle doesn't mean Ah've seen sheep mah whole life, it's demeaning" the redhead pointed out to scratch off that stereotype from their minds and the group looked to him for further deliberation, eager to learn about Irish culture. The roster held people of diverse cultures and most were always enthusiastic to learn about parts of the world they'd yet to see since wrestling tours would eventually lead them internationally (as they currently were). He blinked with surprise at seeing everyone's gazes turned towards him and crossed his arms to both warm and mentally kick himself for falling into his own verbal trap. Gritting his teeth as he tried to keep them from chattering, he avoided their gazes by taking sudden fascination with the rocks littering the highway and reluctantly admitted, "All right, Ah saw a sheep once in a while during field trips in primary school."

"Don't forget your fat puffy sheep at home" Ted reminded quickly to add injury to his comment and licked his dry lips as he fantasized about eating a warm meal inside a room with a burning fireplace. Oh, how he wanted to be in a warm bed at this moment and imagined tiny plump sheep that could barely stand under their hefty weight jumping over white picket fences, exhaling longingly with hunger, "Oh man, I can imagine the delicious juicy lamb chops they'd make, fat and succulent with a side of mashed potatoes with gravy-"

Stephen stopped walking to jam a finger towards Ted's fantasy induced grin and ordered briskly to defend his innocent animals, "Stop talking about mah sheep-"

A sudden honk alerted the sleep deprived group and they turned to see a modern navy van on the opposite road, its orange turn signals flickering as it waited for traffic to clear to make an illegal U-turn. Thankfully, with dawn barely on the horizon, the road was pretty empty so it didn't have to wait long as the group watched the approaching car intently with wariness. Had somebody decided to rescue their little lot? Ted hoped somebody had recognized them from the show and decided to take pity on them, promising to shower them with a Dibiase Posse party if they weren't about to be kidnapped. Their initial uncertainty turned to rejoicing relief as they watched Cena make his triumphant return to fulfill his promise, the car rolling up to them as Anthony tagged along in the passenger seat to help with the search. The Canadian wrestler waved his arm to the weary group in welcome, glad to see they were all right after being told of their dilemma, and declared jovially, "We found you at last!"

Randy quickly slid open the side door and everybody began to pile inside with their belongings in haste to reach a warmer environment, sighing contently to the heater running inside the van. The women settled into the last row in the back with Mike and Ted, the latter blond chattering his teeth and practically sobbing his thank you to their rescuers. The other men piled into the car with tired grunts as their misfortune came to an end but Randy clasped the back of the driver's seat to say, "Man, I thought you'd gotten hit or mauled on the road."

"Well, I seemed to fare better than you guys but I managed to call Anthony for a pickup" John replied back with a small chuckle since he'd run for quite a while until his colleague had spotted him on the road and had happily hopped on to rescue their other companions. Anthony handed Randy a warm plastic bag filled with food that he'd wrapped in aluminum to maintain its heat through the ride from the hotel hours ago and John informed them with a smile, "We brought you guys some food in case-"

The bag was ripped open in two seconds flat as their friends' resembled ravenous zombies, their cold fingers grasping whatever they could find in their haste. If they'd been slathered in theatrical makeup, the resemblance would've been uncanny. . .especially when Matthew and Stephen fought for a warm roll bread by baring their teeth. John merely blinked in surprise to their hectic foraging, the plastic bag torn into shreds under their strength, and trailed off hesitantly, "All right then. . ."

"Ow! You bit my finger!" Mike accused painfully as he nursed his index finger, red teeth marks indenting the joint underneath his nail. His narrowed blue eyes were trained on a certain blond, and normally, this would have Ted's name written all over it. . .but not on this chilly morning.

"I'm starving" Nattie defended matter-of-factly without remorse because her face was dry beyond belief due to the lack of finishing her nightly skin regimen and the long walk had stirred quite an appetite. She would never take a long trip in an old vehicle for as long as she lived, deciding that she'd only use a modern car or train for ground transportation. There was no way she wanted a repeat of what had just occurred.

Mike retreated back into his seat after fetching a decent snack of grapes and cheese, keeping his treasure from the others before he was robbed blind from a hunger induced craze. He'd never been so happy to be in a warm place with decent food to fill his cold empty stomach and yawned gratefully that he was well on his way to his new hotel. Popping a red grape into his mouth, he chewed the sweet seedless fruit slowly to savor the taste and lectured the blond woman, "It doesn't mean you can resort to cannibalism, whether accidental or not."

"Nobody wants to eat you, Mike, not even starving animals" she joked dryly as she chewed a pastry filled with strawberry preserves, leaning back against the seat to sigh in relief that she was heading to Florence. Whatever awaited her there, it couldn't be worse than what she'd just done a few hours ago. The first thing she'd do was take a long hot shower and then head downstairs to pig out on whatever complimentary breakfast they offered.

With warm food filling their cold and empty stomachs, the group rejoiced as the van drove north towards Florence.

* * *

None of the rescued wrestlers were satiated with the endless buffet the hotel provided and kept devouring for hours after they arrived in Florence, drawing a few stares from other guests. Of course, with some of the wrestlers putting on a meet and greet soon, they had to give up gorging on the delicious hotel food and train to burn off the pounds to maintain their physiques. Ted managed to stuff his pants with breakfast rolls to keep his snacking ongoing and Samantha had thrown him a few butter packets to add onto it with a helpful hand. She didn't know much on their diets but to maintain their strength and flexibility, a lot of munching and exercises had to occur. Her hectic day had managed to avoid becoming a full scale catastrophe by John's rescue and reminded herself to send him a nice gift basket. . .or a cap, he liked those.

She'd done damage control regarding their late arrival by emailing the higher ups but since the wrestlers needed to be ready by the late morning, luck was on her side this time. As long as she'd gotten them to Florence, that was all that mattered and she had. . .at 7 am. Otherwise, she would've been boiled alive in a figurative pot for allowing an old van to stop her from performing her duties. This time, she was forced to stay in the hotel to make sure their next stay wouldn't turn shockingly catastrophic and made sure to rent a modern day car that would actually be there for pickup.

Before the upcoming flight later that day, she decided to use the gym for a little strength training since traveling with muscular people made her feel like a limp noodle through it all. It sunk her confidence when she couldn't pick up one of the others whenever they fell but put the shoe on the other foot and she was made to stand within seconds as if she weighed nothing. Nattie was more than happy to have her company as the other women trained in the hotel's gym for the day but she had a cunning plan in mind. This time, she decided to be open about it rather than leave poor Samantha in the dark to her schemes and lifted her barbell for a standing military press to state openly, "Sam, I think you should just tell 'im."

Samantha almost dropped one of the dumbbells in her hands to the daring idea, gripping it tightly to balance her right arm before she injured it. Was she implying that she march right up to him and ask outright? Well, that is how the dating field was nowadays but she always felt out of sync with it. Her gray eyes widened with embarrassment to her snafu, hoping nobody saw that little mishap and stood next to Nattie to blurt with disbelief, "Are you kidding? Now?"

"We're quite relaxed during regular exercise and cool downs, our blood flows freely" she agreed with an encouraging smile since she enjoyed her exercise routines and began a new set of exercises with the barbell. Samantha needed to take her mind off the whole 'smokin' hot Irishman' running around the place more than lifting weights to boost her physical strength. Nattie could easily give her tips on that later as they toured together and ushered her on like a mother hen by suggesting, "Go on, use that treadmill over there and chat him up. Between the idle chitchat, just slip it in there like no biggie so he knows it's not a big deal."

"Ugh, my dating life is nonexistent like the T-Rex so what do I have to lose?" she sighed morosely to her luck recently but since it would stop the crazy underhanded plans, why not? She placed her weights back on the rack to allow others to use them since her arms were going to be occupied elsewhere and jogged in place to get her blood running so it would add a little courage to her heart. Glancing across the gym, the room seemed to get bigger within a millisecond and she groaned to the meekness trying to bite its way back into her mind. Nattie leaned down to place her barbell back in its original spot to give it a rest for the moment, wiping the handle clean with her towel, and headed for the nearest weight machine to continue her strength training.

Samantha wagged a finger in her direction since the blond had bolstered her courage and pointed out with a nervous grin, "But if this goes horribly awry, you owe me a drink. I can't always be super Samantha in my plans."

"Mocha with cinnamon" Nattie promised with a charismatic grin since she was pretty sure the two would click with Samantha's easygoing personality and his tendency to explore (but not go to extremes like Ted). Besides, she'd never really heard much about the man's private life since he was rather mum on it so who knew. It could go either way, but it was a chance, right? It was times like this that she was happy with TJ by her side and could lean back to bask in that romance, not having to worry over age old dating questions.

Samantha glanced over her right shoulder to where Stephen was training by performing pull-ups on a bar, watching his toned back muscles flex under his black t-shirt and sighed longingly with a hand to her forehead, "Goodness me, why am I being mocked in such an alluringly torturous way?"

"You're the one with the fancy for accents and red hair" Nattie chuckled amusingly from her spot, trying not to burst into laughter at her friend's sullen face. Samantha had admitted those attractive forces in the opposite gender when they'd met, unaware to the redhead that traveled with them until she'd met him during a house show. Nattie had never seen her turn to the shade of cherry red and caught a hint of rose on Samantha's cheeks at the current moment as she shook her head to clear her mind, trying not to get caught glimpsing in the man's direction. She really could be a little quirky sometimes.

"Well, I didn't think this job would bring me a living statue that held all of those qualities and-" Samantha pointed out hastily since her gaze had practically been transfixed on the scarlet haired man from day one and couldn't rub him off of her retinas. It would've been great if he'd had a lousy personality or held pet peeves but no, he was as courteous and friendly as they came so she was out of luck on that one. Since they didn't exactly work together, there was no conflict of interest that could cause either to be fired but paperwork was always assigned for such things as a formality. The red hue that caught her eye at the end of the room caused her to falter in her resolve to walk over there and she sighed softly to tell her friend, "I'm serious, that shade of hair color is hypnotic. He's a male siren!"

"Only to you, Sam" Nattie laughed amicably as her ramblings were similar to her own in regards to her boyfriend since a tiny thing that drove her gaga would make others blink in confusion.

Samantha held her head high like a proud lioness as she strolled towards Stephen across the room, pacing her steps so she wouldn't appear sluggish or hasty. On the other hand, who the heck was really looking? It was a gym, people were focused on their own healthy goals. Her mind ran through a dozen of hectic thoughts as she approached the redheaded wrestler from behind, organizing her words to appear courteous and friendly. Talking about the weather would bore him to death faster than just saying nothing and searched through pleasing topics since their recent adventure was one for the ages. Not to mention, their previous experience at the vineyard.

"Mornin' to yah, Sam" Stephen greeted her with a friendly smile that released tension in her shoulders since it was rather contagious, eliciting one from her in return. She stepped onto the treadmill next to him to start on a leisure run that wouldn't have her sweating straight into dehydration (that would be mortifying enough) and kept a towel in hand in case the machine decided to automatically bump her to the next level. Her exercise routine was mostly cardiovascular as running brought her the most relaxation without straining a muscle but it was time to put a little protein in her day.

"Good morning to you too, I see you're already hard at work" she greeted amicably with the same peppy demeanor, keeping her arms tucked at her sides to run easily while facing the wall for a few moments to gather her thoughts. She found it better to repeat her chosen sentences for judgment before stating them aloud because once said, you couldn't retrieve them.

"Of course, can't slack off" he chuckled softly since training schedules were adhered to and he was the kind of guy that worked his butt off to achieve his dreams. Her eyes trailed over his biceps as he pulled himself up and she agreed wholeheartedly because she hadn't seen a lot of Irish wrestlers in the WWE. Samantha could only stare in awe at the man's strength because she'd more than likely be dangling like a wild fish out of water if she grabbed onto that thing. It made her attraction seem insignificant with her lean physique as they contrasted greatly in that aspect, being reminded of Nattie and TJ, who complemented each other nicely.

"Did you catch up on sleep?" she asked casually to keep up the conversation and her voice from faltering, hoping she wouldn't appear hopelessly untrained in comparison to him. Interacting with Stephen outside of work held a peaceful ambience as he took his time when speaking to people, actually holding a meaningful conversation, whereas Ted had her running after him and Mike was nose deep in his sightseeing books that she had to guide _him_ around. She wouldn't have minded touring the other countries alongside him, as long as nothing outrageous occurred because that would surely drive him away from joining her group again. If anything, she could just turn out to be his bad luck charm.

"As much as Ah could" he replied simply since he'd collapsed into bed after leaving the dining room of the hotel, not even bothering to lift the covers before falling into a heavy asleep. The lack of train whistles piercing his ears had been wonderful but he had to fix the problem with his facial hair, certain that he'd have to ask the women what to do about such problems since they could fix just about anything with their flawless appearances. Releasing the pull-up bar to land neatly on his feet, he turned to Samantha as he decided to trust her since she wouldn't run around blabbing about the problem and asked uncertainly, "Do yah have any tips for fixin' this? Ah don't know if it'll be noticeable on camera."

Samantha's heart went out to him since an embarrassing feature would plummet anyone's confidence, even as an adult, and explained helpfully, "I'd suggest buying a makeup pencil of that hue and dabbing an eye shadow of the same color over that to lock in the color. I'd try a waterproof brand due to your sweating in the ring."

"Ah'm goin' to have to go into a makeup store?" Stephen sighed with regretful dismay to the idea of going to a makeup counter and asking for those products since faking the profession of a makeup artist would not work. He didn't know a thing about that! He remembered visiting his sister last year and seeing the dozens of brushes on her makeup dresser, each for specific uses, had sent his mind reeling. Wiping his face free of sweat with his towel, he wasn't looking forward to that trip and would have to wear sunglasses to hide his flustered appearance.

Again, Samantha couldn't help but offer her help and smiled sympathetically, "I'll go buy them after I finish here. You can ask the makeup artists at the show to fix that for you since they carry all kinds of fancy products I don't have."

"Yer a life saver, Samantha, thank you" he smiled widely with appreciation since she didn't have to offer but the kind gesture wouldn't be forgotten. She'd brought him her mixed concoction to help for his sunburns and her newest aid told him that a budding friendship was in the works for them since she didn't try to put chili powder in his pants or involve him in a car collision. Every time his colleagues had gotten him into a sticky situation, Samantha had been their go-to fixer as she helped with no questions asked. Her only exception was Ted's pranks since bodily harm was not humorous to her and Stephen agreed wholeheartedly on that aspect.

"I'm really sorry about the inn, if the car hadn't broken down. . .we'll never deal with that company again, I promise" she apologized modestly to the mess she'd made with the inn and was sure she'd won the award for worst assistant since her first week on the job hadn't gone as planned. The only excuse she could use was the misleading vendor, which could win them money in court due to their breaking of the contract by issuing a different car, and the fact her department was broadcasting. She didn't want to appear inadequate since she was being pushed into situations that she'd never expected but was determined to show she could persevere.

Stephen, being ever so kind, dismissed the blame game entirely and chuckled optimistically, "Don't worry about it. Life's an adventure, right?"

Now that was a manner of thinking she could get behind, not her bleak ruminations. Summoning up the courage to ask what she'd wanted for weeks, Samantha swallowed her nerves and stepped onto the sides of the treadmill to stop her run. If she was going to speak those words, she wanted them to flow evenly from her mouth rather than be panted out like a poor dog underneath the summer heat. Her fingers wrung the towel to pent out the last of her nerves and she gazed at the redhead to ask calmly with a small smile, "Stephen, I was wondering, if you'd be interested in having dinner one evening?"

Yep, that sounded pretty good to her, straightforward and polite. . .

Except he didn't respond.

Her serene façade broke apart slowly by the seams with every passing second when he hesitated to speak and thinned his lips as his mind reached the final answer. Ah jeez, she felt even tinier now as his azure eyes bore into hers and the silence around them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Stephen was taught to always behave politely with women and Samantha was a sweet woman that deserved the same, even if the answer she sought would not be on a positive note. He scratched the top of his head as he took the easiest route and slowly but carefully, he tried to let her down gently by informing with a modest smile, "I'm sorry, Samantha, yer a good lass but Ah'm already seein' someone."

Well, wasn't that a fantastically good kick in the keister?

Samantha's heart sunk to the unfortunate letdown but tried to save face from the walk of shame by maintaining friendly civility, pocketing her new knowledge. Walking off would've been quite off-putting and she was there to finish her short run on the treadmill, resuming her exercise as she glanced at the beige wall that brought a little peace of mind. Despite her disappointment, she was rather proud of herself for going through it rather than wondering her 'what if's' from the sidelines and lifted her chin with the little confidence boost because she'd earned it. She might've been rejected but she still knew how to dance her way through the dating arena without failing horribly. Stephen wasn't sure whether to say something else in encouragement but Samantha spoke up as she waved her hand to smile widely, "Don't worry about it. Better to know than to wonder, right?"

"Yer a sweet optimistic" he smiled apologetically since she was a friendly woman but he'd never considered her as anything more than that due to work. Not until now. He'd never had the smallest inkling that she might've felt that way since she kept her personal life private and maintained a friendly ambience with everyone, showing him the same civility she displayed to others. He didn't want their work relationship to turn awkward since she was a good addition to their team and smiled courteously to compliment, "Yer a good friend to have, Sam."

"Yeah, I get that all the time. . ._all_ the time" she murmured quietly as her confidence took a small plummet to being buffered in the friend zone only with no hope of escape. Nobody wanted to be seen as the benevolent cute friend by every man rather than the attractive significant other they could possible become but that was the card she was dealt with. Well, at least he hadn't outright lied to her or tiptoed around the question and she did look forward to cementing their friendship, despite her little flame of attraction. Grabbing her towel off the treadmill safety bar at the side, she turned the treadmill off and leaned back to stretch her spine to crack any pressure out of it. It wasn't the exercise routine she'd been looking for today and would resume it later on at their next destination, hopping off the machine and informing the wrestler with a friendly smile, "I'll have your stuff ready in a few hours, Stephen."

"Again, mah most gracious thanks" he replied earnestly because she was doing him a huge favor but it was just another fast run for good 'ol Samantha. Since Nattie's schedule was free for the day until it was time to head for the airport, they could head out together for fun without the horror attached.

She was proud of herself for finally putting a closing stamp on that file in her heart but it was a bittersweet moment as she headed off for her next task of the day. A tasty Toblerone would fix that problem right up; chocolate was a good inanimate best friend when one craved comfort. Passing by Nattie as the blond showed her weight machine who was boss, Samantha snapped her fingers and grinned eagerly to reap her prize of the day, "Someone owes me a nice hot mocha."

"Aw, Sam. . .I'll buy whatever you want" her friend sighed despondently since she'd really expected it to go well for her but would hit the café for a decent coffee. She'd been through that tumble of the romance dance before and a breath of fresh air while sightseeing through Florence would get one's mind clear off of it. First, she'd need to finish her training and find TJ so she could enjoy her visit to Italy on full blast. And who knew, she _might_ just manage to find that tandem bike for three that she'd had an eye for. . .or for two, her boyfriend didn't trust bikes that weren't for single cyclers.

Despite Nattie's kind sympathy to cheer her up, Samantha's day worsened dramatically when the company decided to terminate and renew contracts of the current stars for both shows and not everyone made the cut. She'd almost expected to be canned herself after what happened the previous night but narrowly avoided that as she received the updated roster for her newest chaperoned team while wandering the old streets of Florence with her friends. Thankfully, she was able to keep Nattie, Mike, and Ted, but others weren't so lucky. She was actually quite happy to have Stephen around for the next round of touring since he'd bring a little sanity to their group.

Their next stop: France

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay, my computer flat out died back in April and I've just gotten my new one set up to restart all of my continuing fanfics. Anyway, we see that the group can turn into ravenous zombies when left to wander an interstate highway and Samantha's gumption did not pay off in the way she wanted. So who was voting for her to her man this early in the story? Poor Samantha's heart aside, the next group will be heading to France to stay in a hotel that will have Samantha battling wildlife in her bathroom.

Thanks for the last chapter reviews, I appreciate them very much.

_Angelle Darque_: I'm very glad to have portrayed that, especially with your thumb of approval on the wrestling backgrounds. I hope you laughed with this chapter as well!

_ThatOneChickJane_: Yep, his animals don't seem to catch a break when Ted's around. I can only dream of the mayhem the blond will bring when they land in Ireland.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Cody, The Sacrificial Lamb_

Sliding the hotel room card into the slot for clearance, the green dot lit up to grant her passage and Samantha entered the dark hotel room to search for her friend. Hopefully, this would not be one of Nattie's smexy times with TJ. She didn't want to add further mortification to her night and hissed her friend's name in the dark to call her attention or wake her. Receiving nothing in return, she crept towards the bed and the illuminating moonlight outline a single form sleeping within it. Well, at least she wasn't popping into something indecent.

Quickly, she latched onto the slumbering body for a helping hand and shook them with an urgent whisper, "Nattie, you have to help me-"

An incoherent groggy mumble that was definitely _not_ Nattie's cheerful voice echoed in the dark and she yelped with horror to what she'd stepped into. She'd slipped into the right room but further grumbles told her this was not Nattie because first of all, her voice was low-pitched and secondly, she was a woman! Questions rampaged through her mind on the whereabouts of her dear friend and her eyes widened into the size of dinner plates when the unknown body sat up in the bed.

_Why are you still in here?_, her mind screeched to get her butt moving but she was frozen in place like a deer in headlights. _He could be a murderer or burglar! You have to find Nattie!_

The size of the person was daunting as they surpassed her height and she squeaked frightfully, "Oh no, Nattie transformed into Sasquatch."

The person snapped to attention towards her since she was the intruder in their book and she jumped back immediately, cursing the slip of the tongue as she crashed against the night-table. Her elbow striking the wooden made enough of a noise to wipe the sleep from the inhabitant's mind and she held her throbbing elbow. Instantly, the person was on alert to the trespasser and climbed out of bed with demanding authority, "Who are yah? Get outta mah room!"

That voice was incredibly familiar as it struck the cuckoo birds swirling around her mind with bullets. She tried to find a light to clear up the entire misunderstanding but to Stephen, it appeared as the intruder was ready to make off with his wallet. That was a big no-no in his mind. Throwing the blankets at the intruder to thwart their escape, he was going to make them regret their reckless decision and leapt forward to tackle them into the ground.


	9. Cody, the Sacrificial Lamb

**Cody, the Sacrificial Lamb  
**

* * *

Their tour throughout Italy had come to a wonderful conclusion as they left the beautiful land of vineyards and islands with a heavy heart. Some carried souvenirs in their luggage, in their minds, in their cameras, or in the case of Stephen, their face. Samantha had met with her newest group to take care of like a mama bear and she would take the bull by the horns to make sure nothing else went horribly wrong. Of course, she could safeguard all dangers and prepare for common scenarios but when the higher ups told you that there needed to be a few budget cuts here and there- it was her team that had suffered, as always. Sometimes, Samantha truly wondered if bad luck was hot on her heels because it had such a tight hold on the poor woman.

This time, she'd been well-informed that their hotel in France would be near the airport but would only provide the basic commodities of cable, Wi-Fi, and a complimentary breakfast. The nice upside was a pool that they could all enjoy on their stay there. Samantha didn't fret because the wrestlers didn't seem to mind but what the company forgot to mention was a single tiny fact they embellished that bit them all in the butt when they arrived to check-in from the airport.

Samantha just knew she'd face all of their complaints when they met up in ten minutes down in the pool area, which was actually quite nice and spacious as advertised. After their issues in Italy, she knew Mike, Stephen, Nattie, TJ, Randy, and Ted would be soaking until they wrinkled like old leather. Her newest addition for the France trip brought Chris Everidge and Cody Runnels into their group and they'd have to have strong willpower to survive what the others had. Hopefully, that cold refreshing pool would even out the horrible facts about the hotel but she didn't hold her breath on it.

When she arrived at the pool, she found her group for the week either eating like ravenous rabbits after the jet lag or relaxing by the poolside to ward off the heat. None sported swimwear so she hoped the pool hadn't been shut down for decontamination or a poor soul had drowned just a few minutes ago. She almost felt a little underdressed as she'd decided to step out in jean shorts and a simple violet t-shirt while everyone else dressed casually in brand name clothing. As always, Stephen made her feel the worst with her state of dress because she'd yet to find him wearing regular blue jeans on an average day as he wore a gray dress shirt and beige pants. Man, his parents had taught him extremely well to dress his best in any situation. Why. . .why did she decide to wear flip-flops?

Quickly overcoming her lack of a decent wardrobe at the moment, Samantha smiled widely to fit the scary plastic smile of a Disney parade dancer to cheer up the group as they lounged around. Ted sat in poolside chair as he snacked on a bag of potato chips, lounging in simple black jeans and a blue shirt that spelled laidback for the young man. She was already fearful to hear the answer from her group, whose attention turned to her with shrewd perception that didn't help her case, but sucked down her hesitance by asking calmly, "So, how are the rooms?"

Chris Everidge wasn't amused since he expected his temporary quarters to be livable without hazardous moments and crossed his arms over his broad chest to point out sharply, "Parts of the ceiling fell on me, Samantha. Fell. _On_. Me."

"There's a leak in mine" Mike stated simply since he'd noticed it within minutes of fixing his luggage on a corner when it dripped down his left shoulder and hoped it wasn't from the bathroom pipes. A quick shower and a change of clothes had fixed it but the issue wasn't too much of a concern since he placed a small bowl under the drip to collect the water. He fiddled with his phone as he searched for events in their current city that struck his interest and waved his hand to dismiss the problem from Samantha's troubled mind, "No biggie though, there's no sign of flooding."

Nattie raised her hand from her seat on the floor, her bare legs splashing in the water to cool off, and she added in, "Mine-"

Her voice was cut off as the sound of a plane's engine deafened every sound around them and the earth trembled lightly with the incoming plane. Everyone covered their ears to mute the piercing loud noise and Samantha knew there was nothing she could do about that one since the airport was right next to the hotel, which hadn't soundproofed itself. When the noise faded away into peaceful silence, Nattie took away her hands and stated flatly as she cocked her head in the direction of the airport, "Yeah, _that_."

"I can't hear from my left ear anymore" Ted whimpered woefully since his room was on the eastern side that faced the airport so he'd been hearing arrivals every fifteen minutes. Sure, he had a pair of earplugs but he'd need some noise canceling headphones to mute half of the sound when nighttime arrived and hoped he could manage to sleep.

Samantha sighed miserably to their awful luck since their last two hotels had been lovely and decided to break the news she'd been given weeks ago, "I want you to know that I tried but with the company trying to cut out excess spending in its budget, it's our week to suffer this time and we'll have to brave an ugly hotel once in a while. We have to make the best out of what we have, even if we have to lose half our hearing in the process."

Chris refused to stay in such a place because he expected to become deaf at the wise age of eighty-five (not earlier) and shook his head, reaching for his wallet as he declared in protest, "No way, I'll pay out of my own pocket to-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Everidge, but your current contract prohibits that as you leaving this establishment would make you a liability to the company- even though you'd be much safer out there" Samantha explained regretfully with a dull tone at the end as she reminded them about their contractual agreements, hating to sound like corporate worker. She understood their reluctance to stay, she didn't want to bear the loud noises either and sighed softly to console, "I understand your irritation but we will have to bear it for tonight. If it was up to me, we'd be in a soundproof hotel but I'm a baby tadpole in the career ladder of this company."

"Is there _anything_ to look forward to here?" Mike asked tiredly with a frown, hoping to find a good side to the place as he gazed at the architecture of the building. Well, they did provide nice shading in the pool area and he'd yet to hear about a complaint on the chlorine. He'd take a swim or two after he returned from touring the area in his rental car, privately rented this time, because the temperature was not getting any lower in their travels. The season was an extremely hot one this year, rivaling the historical records.

"All you can eat buffet and salad bar" Randy suggested with a casual shrug since he'd visited the place after a workout and had restrained himself on pigging out on the sweet desserts strategically placed in a glass container. How was it _not_ supposed to attract his sweet tooth? The only thing he'd scrutinize with a meticulous eye would be his meat (medium rare, of course) but other than that, he could eat just about anything that was offered to him. He knew several of his traveling companions were keen of such various buffet offerings that they could pile on without the extra pay and added in helpfully to boost their morale, "I'm not a picky eater and hey, it's all you can eat."

"Sweet" Cody and Ted grinned with delight to each other about what dishes awaited them inside to please their palate and hoped meat was in one of the offerings. Samantha eyed the two suspiciously and reminded herself to keep the Pepto-Bismol on her nightstand in case either ended up in horrible gastrointestinal distress later on. Of course, she'd been handed the mischievous twosome for this trip and hoped they wouldn't end up with bloody gashes if they decided to go mountain biking in the mountainous area to the south.

Samantha dug through her handy tote until she reached the bottom and pulled out three sealed packets of earplugs, handing them out to the closest three. Ted quickly snatched the first with a grateful 'yes!' while the latter went to Chris and Randy, who handed his to Natalya since he always carried a spare of earplugs during plane trips. Being wary of flying at high altitudes that could end tragically with a single mistake, he prepared himself by dulling all of his senses and packed the items to do so- except nose plugs, he'd keep everyone awake with his bear-like snoring. She closed her purse quickly since she had work related tasks to take care of as the others would go out to tour or have fun at other events, raising her right index finger to promise the others, "I'll find more to deafen the sounds so don't worry, leave it to this beaver."

"Yer a beaver?" Stephen asked quizzically with a baffled expression since the old show was probably lost to him because she'd certainly never watched Irish shows. It was hard not to love the guy (the WWE universe certainly did) and his inquisitive questions always left her smiling when she was drowning in a sea of paperwork or work updates.

"Oh, you sweet man" she sighed softly with a small smile since her spirit had taken a beating since walking into the hotel lobby but that cheered her right up. Sometimes, the simplest of words could bring delight a worried heart and it boosted her resolve to believe that there would be an upside to their stay at this particular hotel. When life gave you lemons, make lemonade, right?

Ted, who had stuffed the yellow ear plugs into his ears to deafen his surroundings, snapped his fingers towards the two and called loudly to ask, "Did you just tell him to 'eat ham'?"

That also helped tremendously.

* * *

Samantha entered her hotel room with a tired sluggish gait after finishing a beautiful night tour with Mike, exploring her first French city with the giddiness of a toddler on Christmas. For once since arriving in the city of Lyon, she experienced a peace of mind when no trouble arose as the beautiful sights with their dazzling lights and people brought the exotic intrigue that all travelers looked for to broaden their horizons. Her night was almost perfect as she changed into her nightgown to head to sleep, twirling like a ballerina as she remembered the sweet music the tour bus had passed by as they headed back to the airport area. Her feet ached at the heel after hours of walking since the tour had been both on foot and bus but worth every minute of it; she'd taken great pictures to bring back as souvenirs. Grabbing her toiletry bag off the bed to set up her bathroom for the night, she opened the door to her left and shrieked in terror immediately.

A _bat_ was flying in her bathroom.

The dark brown furry creature flapped its wings as it hovered in the center of the ceiling, the sound of its flying terrifying her more than the sight itself. Closing the door shut, she held her right hand over the doorknob as an extra measure to keep it out and couldn't believe the sight she'd witnessed. How had a bat gotten in there? She highly doubted this was one of Ted's pranks because there was no way he'd borrowed a bat just for this. That and most of his pranks were centered on the guys, never the women.

Quickly, she ran to the phone on her nightstand to call the lobby to check whether anyone could remove it from her bathroom without harming the poor creature. Just as she hadn't believed the sight, the front desk told her she'd had too much to drink and lie down for the night. Really, that was their assumption? Inebriation? With an exasperated sigh to her rotten luck at this late hour of the night, she marched right up to the door and wondered whether letting it free as she opened her windows would help. It sounded logical enough in her mind but her brain quickly poked her in rebound to point out that she had no protective gear in case it decided to spring down on her and accidentally bite her out of fear.

She concluded that it would be safer for the little critter to stay in there until she could find help and if the hotel would do nothing, she would take photos to prove it. There was no way housekeeping could avoid seeing a creature like this, unless it had meticulously hidden somewhere, and would demand a discount because bats were pretty much out of the ordinary. Samantha snapped a few shots as the door opened a few inches to fit her wrist through for angling and quickly retreated after four decent pictures. If the hotel refused to believe her tomorrow morning, she'd take them right to it to prove its existence.

Her only hope for aid lay with the help of her friends and with Nattie being the closest, Samantha headed for the door with shaking hands as she twisted the golden tone door handle to open it. The hallways were deserted at that hour so her current state of dress wouldn't be drawing an eye as Samantha scurried down the passage with only her sleeping gown. In her right hand, she held both her room card and Nattie's as the two women swapped an extra card for any sudden emergencies that could arise. Her friend's door was next to hers on the left side of the hall and her hear beat in anticipation for aid to get rid of the bat. Would Nattie even believe her ridiculous claim?

Sliding the hotel room card into the slot for clearance, the green dot lit up to grant her passage and Samantha entered the dark hotel room to search for her friend with frantic footsteps. Hopefully, this would not be one of Nattie's smexy times with TJ since the two often shared one room to save money. She didn't want to add further mortification to her night and hissed her friend's name in the dark to call her attention or wake her. Only the filtering moonlight from the patio door's curtains entered the room to illuminate the inhabitants inside the large bed. Receiving nothing in return, she crept towards the bed and the moonlight outlined a single form sleeping within it. Well, at least she wasn't popping into something indecent.

Quickly, she latched onto the slumbering body for a helping hand and shook them awake with an urgent whisper, "Nattie? Nattie, sweetie, you have to help me-"

An incoherent groggy mumble that was definitely _not_ Nattie's cheerful voice echoed in the dark and she yelped with horror to what she'd stepped into. She'd slipped into the right room but further grumbles told her this was not Nattie because first of all, her voice was low-pitched and secondly, she was a woman! Questions rampaged through her mind on the whereabouts of her dear friend and her eyes widened into the size of dinner plates when the unknown body sat up in the bed with a lethargic groan.

_Why are you still in here?_, her mind screeched to get her butt moving towards the door but she was frozen in place like a deer in headlights. _He could be a murderer or burglar! You have to find Nattie!_

The size of the person was daunting as they surpassed her height by merely sitting and she squeaked frightfully into her hands, "Oh no, Nattie transformed into Sasquatch."

The person snapped to attention towards the sound of her voice since she was the intruder in their book and she jumped back immediately, cursing the slip of the tongue as she crashed against the night table. D'oh, why couldn't she have better bearings on her surroundings? The sound of her elbow striking the wood made enough of a noise to wipe the sleep from the inhabitant's mind and she held her throbbing left elbow to massage the pain while backing away slowly. She hoped that the darkness would hide her presence but the filtering moonlight was her downfall as her silhouette was easily spotted by the room guest. Instantly, the person was on alert to the trespasser and climbed out of bed with demanding authority, "Who are yah? Get outta mah room!"

The accented voice was incredibly familiar as it struck the cuckoo birds swirling around her mind with bullets but when had Stephen switched rooms with her friend? No wonder she was afraid of the towering man in the darkness! She tried to find a light to clear up the entire misunderstanding but to Stephen, it appeared as the faceless and mute intruder was ready to make off with his wallet. That was a big no-no in his mind because he worked like any decent person to earn his money. Throwing the blankets at the trespasser to thwart their escape, he was going to make them regret their reckless decision to break into his room and leapt forward to tackle them into the ground.

Of course, this was the perfect time for a plane to land at the nearby airport and the building was engulfed in shrieking engines as the floor trembled lightly under their feet. This brought a pause in Stephen's plans as his balance skewed slightly and Samantha took advantage of it as she headed for the door, screaming at the man but the deafening turbines of the plane muffled all sound. The Irishman, however, wasn't allowing the 'intruder' to leave and surprised her with his agility as he prevented any sudden escapes to the door- leaving poor Samantha trapped inside. Throughout the deafening landing, Stephen chased a panicked Samantha as she faced the mighty Goliath in a hotel room while wearing only a nightgown for protection. All she could do was outlast him in their frantic chase inside the prison she'd found herself in until she could use her voice, feeling much like a tiny mouse running from a hungry cat.

When the plane noise receded, a panicky voice erupted from the shadows and halted Stephen's ensuing charge since he'd been determined to pin down the robber. However, he recognized the person immediately when he heard the nervous feminine voice plead, "Stephen, it's me! I can't find the light."

If he had the facial movements of a cartoon character, he would've face palmed onto the floor to the odds of this sudden predicament as he turned on the lamp nearby to bathe the room in dim lighting. Normally, he was a calm easygoing fella but when somebody was in his room, woman or not, there were questions to be answered. He didn't authorize for her to be inside and although she was a sweet woman, he wasn't about to be deceived in case she'd come here with ill intentions. Crossing his arms to show he meant business, he looked her square in the eye (well, as much as he could in the dimly lit room) as she wrung the skirt of her sleepwear with nervous fingers and asked firmly, "Sam, what're yah doin' in here?"

Her voice trembled for a moment since she'd never meant to bother him in the first place but regained an even tone to explain, "I-I was looking for Nattie, this was her room-"

"We switched rooms" he informed to correct her on Nattie's new room and watched her shoulders slump to the new information, assuming that she didn't know.

"Oh" she murmured embarrassedly for her current predicament and placed a hand on her forehead for waking the poor man at this hour. What must he think of her? What could she say to apologize after disrupting his sleep?

He found his answer to her unannounced arrival rather quickly since Nattie switched with his room due to the bigger bathroom but failed to explain the rumbling engines of planes on her side of the building were loudest. For some reason, whenever Nattie was involved in trading items or spots with him, Samantha wasn't far away but that was another mystery. He fiddled with the lamp on the night table to bathe the room in decent lighting since squinting to see her features was starting to hurt his vision. He found that Samantha had managed to find herself in the doorway of the open bathroom as she tried to flee the scene, holding onto his blankets for protection. He wouldn't be lying if he said the long sapphire nightgown hugging her slim pear-shaped form wasn't eye catching but he pulled himself free of such bad thoughts. They were friends and he was loyal to the current person in his life, silently thanking her when she wrapped the blanket over herself to hide her figure or ward off the cold, he couldn't tell.

Samantha, in a similar situation, tried not to glance at the redhead that wore only boxer shorts because her cheeks would match his hair in hue if they wandered. She took a sudden fascination with the floor as she explained her reason for being there with a sheepish tone, "I'm very sorry for intruding like this but I wanted Nattie's help since there's a, um, bat in my bathroom-"

"Did Ah hear correctly? Yah said a _bat_?" he asked skeptically to her flabbergasting words, trying not to sound too incredulous and watched her shoulders slump dejectedly. Great, not even he believed her. She must've been in the low statistics of having to share a bathroom with a nocturnal mammal and here she'd believed roaches or spiders would be the worst critters she'd face.

"It sounds insane, I know, but the hotel didn't believe me" she sighed miserably and looked towards the inside of his bathroom, completely void of any bats that threatened to jump out at him. Time was ticking away in the silence of night and if she needed help, she had to act quickly because dawdling with a half-naked attractive man- although alluring- would not help matters. Eager for any kind of help, she brushed her fingers through her curled hair in an attempt to calm her nerves and asked politely with a small smile, "Do you happen to have anything big enough to catch a bat? I don't want to kill it."

"Are yah sure it's a bat? It could be, um, a large fly or another bug?" Stephen tried to suggest plausible theories to her infestation since it was the dead of night and her vision could've perceived it as something entirely different. Samantha, however, was not budging because she'd witnessed it firsthand. There was absolutely no way that furry winged creature was anywhere near the small size of a bug or even a plump carpenter's bee size.

"I'm too tired to argue about its validity, could you tell me where Nattie's room is?" she asked softly with exhaustion as she wiped one blurry eye, stifling down a yawn threatening to surface on her lips. Her energy had dwindled down to nothing after her night out, not to mention her frantic running, but wanted that bat out of her room so she could sleep soundly.

"3rd floor, room 304" he answered helpfully to clue her in on the search and she nodded in thanks before setting off, apologizing once more for disrupting his sleep as she returned the blanket she'd grabbed. It truly wasn't something she would've done to the poor man if Nattie hadn't been inside because everybody deserved their privacy and a decent night's sleep. Stephen blinked with curiosity as he realized she wore no shoes whatsoever, simply her sleepwear and wondered if she was cold as he caught sight of fuchsia nail polish on her toes. He couldn't help but notice the deep neckline of her gown and the curve hugging satin, pointing out a last tidbit of help like the gentleman he was, "Yer without a robe, Sam."

"At this dead hour, it doesn't matter but thank you for the suggestion" she thanked sleepily with a tired groan and left his room without another word, quietly closing the door behind her. If she didn't find Nattie in that room and another person posing as her silhouette, Samantha would call it quits. He heard her footsteps fade in the direction towards the elevator off to the right and his conscience prodded him to check out the bat situation. Samantha had pulled him out of his sleep with her frantic shifting so he could only imagine that what she saw wasn't tiny at all but maybe she had misinterpreted the size of the critter. His exhausted part of the mind told him the women would be fine and they didn't need a knight in shining armor at this late hour while the curious part wanted to verify whether the creature was real. He'd never heard of a bat actually living inside a hotel bathroom until tonight, it would be an interesting sight to behold.

He returned to the warm comfort of his bed after that false robbery but kept his ears open for any footsteps that would yield the results of Samantha's search. Her strides were easily deciphered among the others as she walked quickly with little space to spare because the poor thing was always in a hurry to fix something. Whenever she wore her long hair in a ponytail, it brought an instant smile to his face because her hair always struck the air rapidly in the same fashion as her steps. The entire hallway was silent as the planes decided to give them a twenty-minute break from blasting their eardrums and ten minutes later, a set of footsteps scurried down the hall with the haste of a fleeing squirrel. He heard a door shut near his room seconds later and the footsteps ceased immediately after.

It seemed her search was in vain.

A rational person would have stayed in bed and slept out the exhaustion out of his body but Vivian's plight stuck with him. The poor woman did everything to keep them comfortable and when she needed help, there was none. He felt bad about that, especially since he'd almost tackled her to the floor, and regrettably rolled out of his comfortable bed to sit up with a tired yawn fit for a lion basking under the sun. His navy robe lay at the end of the bed and he grabbed it with a lazy hand to put it on since heading over there in nothing but boxers would give anyone the wrong impression at that hour of the night.

When he knocked on her door, Samantha answered it with a breathless pant while wearing black sunglasses and holding a plastic wastebasket in her hands. He was truly skeptical about the bat but curiosity won over with her current getup, glad she'd donned a plush robe this time, and greeted politely, "Night, Sam. Did yah find Nattie?"

"Oh, no, she was asleep" Samantha answered sullenly as her friend failed to answer the door to her repeated knocking and didn't want to inconvenience her at such an hour. Besides, if she could survive her recent misadventures, a bat was nothing to fear . . . or so she told herself. Scuttling back into her room on bare feet, she fiddled through open suitcases lying on the floor as she tried to find anything of help. She dropped the wastebasket on the floor as Stephen followed her inside with cautious steps in case she'd unleashed the critter and heard her mumble lowly, "I thought I packed Raid, Cody hates spiders and Mike hates roaches."

Stephen decided to end the problem quickly so the poor woman could sleep and walked to the closed bathroom while she was preoccupied, wrapping his hand around the knob. Time slowed for Samantha when she heard the doorknob jiggling open, the warning leaving her lips too late as she watched Stephen enter the bathroom . . . only for time to return to normal when he leapt from the bathroom. He slammed the door shut with a hard pull as astonishment was etched onto his smooth face, his blue eyes wide open to the sight he'd witnessed inside and stated with a dazed voice, "There's a, um, there's a bat inside and he's a big one."

"So much for the fat fly theory" she preened gently about his first assumption on the creature dwelling inside because it certainly wasn't harmless. She'd no idea what identification that bat was and even if it had been a fruit bat, she'd still be unnerved with having it there. Stephen kept his hand on the knob as a safety precaution, wary about the animal he'd just witnessed since they dwelled outside of a cave or zoo setting only. She found a decent item for help and ran over to the baffled man, handing him a can of hairspray and piped up optimistically with her crackpot idea, "Maybe you can freeze his wings."

Stephen couldn't believe his new task because he'd expected to swat a small bug or capture a rat to throw outside, not wrangle with a mammal. Samantha smiled encouragingly since he was the only one who could help and his conscience bit him since she was nothing but kind, sheepishly remembering being asked on a date. He'd never really thought she'd view him in that manner but it was a nice boost to his image, treating her with nothing but friendliness in return to show no hard feelings. Either way, it was time to be a hero. He entered the bathroom of doom once more to spray every inch of the place with spray, waving his right arm erratically until he couldn't breathe and every inch of it was bathed in a fine mist. The bat, however, was a different story as it leapt from its corner of refuge towards him with an enraged screech and he escaped quickly, jumping back towards the bedroom. Slamming the door shut with his other hand, he leaned against it with relief that he wasn't face-to-face with it anymore and informed her breathlessly, "Ah think he's even madder now."

"Oh dear . . . maybe he'll freeze over time" she sighed hopelessly since she'd never heard of a frozen bat by hairspray but there was a first for everything, right? He placed the can on the night table next to the bathroom door as they allowed their plan to work for the night and she removed the dark sunglasses, her gray eyes glancing at him sheepishly as she chuckled softly, "Great way to spend a night in France. Nothing says adventure like subduing a furious bat."

"Yah could always look on the bright side, life is an adventure, right?" he offered to boost her morale on the stubborn roommate, whose wings had hopefully frozen partially to prevent it from attacking again. Samantha's halfhearted reply was drowned out as another plane arrived to land at the airport, causing the two to cover their ears to dull some of the earsplitting noise. They were glad that tonight would be their only night as she managed to fix the issue by finding a quaint motel that had last minute openings to fill. Of course, they'd have to share rooms but they all jumped at the chance to be rid of the noise.

Samantha looked to her mattress for a preventative idea because she didn't trust the door to keep the creature at bay and ripped off the covers to throw them onto a chair for the time being. She pulled the large queen size mattress off the bed with her hands, grunting the entire way as she hauled it towards the closed bathroom. Stephen simply watched her place it over the doorway, her hands aligning each corner against the door to make sure nothing would exit from there as she wedged it tightly to prevent any daring escapes. There was no way the bat would venture into her room now and panted tiredly as she crossed her arms to assess her handiwork, nodding off with satisfaction and remarked, "It's not the greatest idea but safe."

"Where will yah sleep?" he asked with confusion since her room was barren in comparison to his and everybody else's. Quite honestly, he was certain it was the smallest as it lacked furnishings like tables and couches so using the latter option as a substitute bed wouldn't be possible.

"Don't worry, I'll build a fort out of the blankets by draping them over the night tables" Samantha piped up optimistically with a dismissive wave of the hand as she gathered the scattered blankets from her empty bed to create her sleeping fort. She'd done this plenty of times during childhood when her brothers wanted to play 'attack the fort' and being the only girl, she'd had enough practice to last a lifetime. That, and educational television shows. Folding the blankets into neat squares to make sure she had plenty to make her indoor tent, she admitted with a proud smile as she added in, "Watching the Discovery channel also comes in handy."

He smiled faintly to her hopeful optimism since most clients in a hotel would be demanding service in the lobby but if there was one thing Samantha was, it was patient. Nonetheless, he wasn't certain about leaving her alone with a bat inside the bathroom that could have rabies and it unsettled his stomach as he watched her yank one night table away from the bed. Being the kind person that he was, he offered his own help as he fought back a yawn and proposed helpfully, "Sam, if yah need a place to sleep, Ah can take the couch-"

"No, Stephen, that would be very intrusive of me" she refused immediately to the idea since she wasn't about to tear away the man's bed for herself and would be just fine in her homemade tent. This was just a bump in the road and she would ride it out until morning when she could bring hotel personnel to look at the bat they refused to believe.

A knock on Samantha's door ceased their conversation and she dropped the night table back on its upright position, hoping that she hadn't awoken any people with the ruckus over the bat. She opened it with a friendly smile to find Mike gazing back at her with a bad case of bed hair, his robe completely messy as he'd thrown it on in haste, and he sighed tiredly, "Sam, it's two in the morning. I can hear you down in my room so I hope there's a good reason for this."

"There's a bat in the bathroom" Stephen and Samantha informed in unison, pointing towards the mattress covered door of the bathroom as evidence. Mike's mouth popped open for a brief second as his mind had a tough time believing it but if two verified it, why not? The fact that all of Samantha's suitcases were open with their contents piling out and the room was a mess with furniture moved all over the place, it added validity to their claim.

"Of course, it couldn't have been something normal like a mouse" Mike sighed aloud but it transformed into a yawn as his energy had been depleted from his outing with Samantha. Truly, only the strangest occurrences happened around her but he wouldn't leave her to suffer a bat on her own. Snapping his fingers, he fought back another yawn as he tried not to fall asleep on his feet and told her quickly, "All right, kiddo, in my room. I'll take the couch and your blankets for warmth."

Stephen was taken aback when she agreed without hesitation since he'd offered first and she explained easily with a modest smile, "He's my big brother figure so there's a lot of trust here. If anything, I'm his wing woman at bars. You won't believe how many women actually think we're siblings, it's quite endearing."

Samantha grabbed her folded bundle of blankets and her toiletry bag with gratuity that she wouldn't have to spend the night with her bat of a roommate. Mike eyed the redhead suspiciously since he'd heard all about Samantha's romantic inquiry when Stephen told Randy during an early night at a bar back in their last stop while he'd idly sat with a curious ear. Leave it to poor Samantha to fall for a man that's not single; it was like watching the first season of The Office! He would not stand for seeing his friend's little heart crushed further by keeping the two together for more time than they needed to be and stated simply, "I'll take it from here, Farrelly, but thanks for the help."

"Have a good night, Sam" Stephen told her with a warm smile since the situation was under control and she returned it kindly for his help, thanking him as she carried her items. He'd come to help out of the goodwill in his heart and she wouldn't forget that. He left the room quietly to return to his comfortable bed free of bats and Samantha watched her handy helper leave with a fond smile since she hadn't expected to have his help at all. Life was indeed full of curious mysteries.

"Don't go all big brother on me, I scored you a pretty little number tonight" Samantha chided gently with a cheeky grin to lighten his protectiveness since she could guard her heart against falling deeper into its adoration pool for the redhead. She turned off the lights in the room before closing the door behind them for the night, making the shortest room transfer by entering the open door across the hall down two doors from hers and stated confidently, "I like Stephen as a friend, Mike, and he's really nice. He's not riddled with cooties or about to sic his girlfriend on me for being attracted to him. I'm a grown woman, I have a tough heart like the tin man."

"TV rots your brain, Sammy- he _lacked_ a heart" he pointed out matter-of-factly with another yawn, turning on the lights since he'd gotten out of bed after the massive plane that had recently landed. He grabbed the folded blankets from her arms and headed for the black couch located against the two windows overseeing the nearby airport, its bright lights casting a glow against the closed curtains.

"_You're_ on TV. . .and he got it in the end" she stated flatly about the film character as she fluffed her pillow and kicked off her slippers to slip into the bed, yawning softly into her hands with relief. She didn't bother removing her robe as the room was cool at night, fiddling with her pockets as she fetched for her earplugs to ward away the terrible noise of planes.

Mike blew a raspberry from his spot as he rolled himself into a cocoon of blankets and reasoned sluggishly, "That's totally different. Now, let's get some shut eye."

* * *

Immediately after breakfast, Mike and Samantha headed upstairs to get rid of the bat after making sure her room rate was deducted for housing wildlife. A picture would also help in proving her claims in case they decided to back out at the last minute because receiving a discount for the room would make space in their much needed budget. Who would've thought a bat would hinder and help her at the same time? The universe was a disturbing paradox of mysteries.

Samantha had driven early in the morning to the nearest store to buy gloves, shower caps, goggles, and aprons to make sure she could free the bat without causing harm to either party. The poor bat didn't deserve to be traumatized for becoming trapped in a bathroom of all places but she wouldn't risk rabies either. Mike had stared at her with a flabbergasted expression when she'd popped out of her room in full bat-proof gear that resembled a hypochondriac's dream as each inch of skin was covered by her purchases and long-sleeved clothing that covered her from the neck down.

"You look like a Ghostbuster reject" Mike guffawed to her ridiculous outfit as she held a wooden broom in one hand and a small towel in the other for the upcoming task. His laughter ceased when minutes later, he donned the same outrageous getup and groaned miserably to his appearance because catching a bat hadn't been on his to-do list for that week. On the other hand, he couldn't let his friend handle it all herself because another pair of hands would help eliminate the unwelcome room guest at a faster pace.

Ted passed by the two as he'd been heading out with Cody to explore the hiking trails south at the mountains but did a double take when he spotted the strangely dressed duo. Had he accidentally stepped into a low-budget film where the two pretended to be space wanderers? He laughed giddily at the two as he pointed to their strange cleaning personnel getups, leaning against the open doorway of Samantha's room and teased with smirk, "You two look like spacemen from an old 60s movie."

"If you even try and record this for YouTube, I'll-" Mike warned quickly because he didn't want to be the next laughing stock of the internet since the company was making videos on just about anything to boost the ratings. He loved working for the company but if it meant being bitten by a bat and risking rabies, he'd call it quits. This was a wrestling show, not Jackass.

"It can't be worse than when he records you guys sleeping and pokes your noses" Samantha pointed out with a witty smile that was hidden behind the breathing mask she'd put on for extra safety. She could see how her outfit could be mistaken for a shoddy space suit and approached the bathroom door with calculating steps to begin the job.

Mike, however, stood in the bedroom's doorway as he mulled over what she'd said and demanded sharply from the blond, "Wait, you watch me while I _sleep_? That's creepy and disturbing, not to mention super gross."

"Talk about an ego stroke, Mizanin, I only do it for the ensuing hilarity to entertain the masses of fans" the blond retorted dryly with an upraised chin because he was a playful soul and wouldn't stop anytime soon. Samantha didn't mind it either as she encouraged his mischievous ways, except when he decided to go to the extreme. John Cena still didn't know how he'd managed to turn a laundry load of his shirts a disastrous neon lime green that hurt everyone's eyes and had to be shredded into cleaning rags instead.

Natalya and TJ strolled down the hallway as they planned a day out for themselves before the show later on that night, carrying a basket for a private picnic. Both were dressed in comfortable summer clothing with Natalya wearing a floral print dress that had her boyfriend's eyes glued to her figure. She stopped when she noticed Ted's bystander posture in front of Samantha's room and hoped he hadn't pranked the poor woman by putting peroxide in her shampoo bottle. TJ eyed the blond with a suspicious gaze because he certainly held the posture of a troublesome imp and questioned, "You didn't embarrass Sam when she was changing, did you?"

Ted turned around immediately and placed his right palm over his heart to declare with feigned indignation, "Why, sir, you sully my pride! A man would never do such to a fair lady!"

"Have you been watching 'Game of Thrones' reruns?" Natalya asked quizzically as the show had a few fans in their group, Ted included. He merely shrugged with a grin since adding an Olde English accent gave him a vintage flair of humor while Mike shook his head pitifully from his spot. The other two noticed the strange outfit since he looked ready to eradicate stubborn bathroom bacteria and she drawled slowly with hesitance, "Should I even ask about this?"

Ted scooted behind the doorway to press against the wall because he certainly wasn't about to get bitten by a bat and told his wrestling companion, "I think you should head over before she opens the door, I'll close this one."

Mike quickly ran over to Samantha, who pried the bathroom door open to wrestle with the defiant bat that had made a temporary home in there. The windows had been fully opened to make sure there were plenty of exit points for the little guy and the newfound freedom of large space attracted the nocturnal mammal, especially when light bathed the entire area. It needed to find shelter in a cool and shady place fast, gliding into the room as it tried to escape with its echolocation.

Unfortunately, Ted was a little too slow at closing the door as he greeted two of his other colleagues who happened to stroll by and the dimmer lighting in the hallway nabbed the little critter's interest. Stephen's hair spraying from last night had done nothing to thwart its flying skills as its wings flapped without a problem. Mike and Samantha ran towards the closing doorway with their brooms in an effort to keep it in this time, disbelieving to the horrible irony, but the bat gracefully escaped their swats. Ted could only yelp when the brown bat zoomed over his head, dexterously squeezing through the small space he'd left before fully closing the door and cursed his luck. Samantha and Mike threw a few particular words his way as well from the other side while prying open the door.

Randy was the first to exclaim as the small creature burst into the hallway with flapping wings, causing him to cover his head with his hands and jumped back with disbelief on his features, "What the hell- is that a _bat_?"

Stephen quickly ducked before the bat decided to land on him and felt the sudden urge to wipe his eyes when he spotted two people in aprons, masks, and shower caps as they held brooms. He met their gazes and instantly recognized them by the color of their eyes, leading him to question swiftly, "Samantha, why didn't yah close the door?"

"That was me. . .sorry" Ted answered his question with an sheepish apologetic shake of the shoulders and puppy eye expression that led Stephen to sigh with dismay. Everything that Dibiase touched eventually unraveled into chaos.

The bat flew wildly through the hall as everyone hit the floor, Natalya screaming at the two to get rid of it while she and TJ scrambled away to prevent being bitten. TJ quickly wrapped their picnic blanket over their heads to provide a shield of protection as they headed away to the elevators to get the heck out of there. Stephen's tall height managed to sway the creature to move towards the elevator and emergency stairs as he grabbed Samantha's broom to shoo away the bat. He, Mike, and Samantha gave chase to the bat to be free of it while Randy and Ted decided to use Samantha's room as a sanctuary until the all clear was given. TJ's and Nattie's eyes widened with horror as the creature flapped its way towards them, the couple shouting for it to go away as they decided to run towards the nearest fire exit. Just as the bat entered their vicinity, the elevator doors opened to reveal Cody Runnels as he nibbled on a fat hot sandwich for breakfast that he'd bought from a nice deli nearby. He screamed frantically when the bat entered the elevator with him as the darker area beckoned its natural instinct and Stephen made the tough decision of pressing the lowest button on the keypad to be rid of the creature.

It would now be the problem of the lobby, further cementing their claims on the mysterious bat.

Cody desperately tried to make it to the other side where Stephen was but it was too late, the doors were closing and Stephen regrettably shoved him back in to seal the bat away. It was a sacrifice that he would take the blame for, his shoulders sagging with guilt (and a little shame) because he knew the poor guy would yell their ears off for doing that to him. After all, who would dare lock you in an elevator with a loose bat? Everyone could hear Cody's wails for aid as the elevator descended and they struggled between mournful silence and laughing- the latter on Ted's part.

"Stephen, I'm buyin' ya lunch" Samantha offered chirpily with a small smile of humor because his helping hand definitely won the battle for them, especially when it escaped from their clutches. She ripped off the shower cap and mask, her gray eyes appearing comically huge in the rubber goggles as her smile widened with joy that she'd reclaimed her bedroom, "You're our conquering hero so thank you for helping."

Ted pointed towards the closed elevator doors where their companion had been sealed away with the furry menace and asked curiously, "So, um, what about Cody? I can't imagine anyone being happy being trapped with a bat."

"Ah'll buy him lunch or somethin', the poor fella deserves it" Stephen replied earnestly with a sheepish smile since his actions were done to protect the majority of their group. It was a tough call but he'd freed their level, not to mention Samantha's room, of the bat and would grant Runnels a favor for doing that to him. If the shoe had been on the other foot, he'd be bristling himself for having to be locked in with a bat. The adrenaline ride was over and deemed it clear for everyone to wander, ushering the small crowd of their companions away with his hands as he assured, "Carry on, people, the worst is over."

Nattie decided to take the stairs with TJ rather than the elevator because she wasn't about to gamble on the odds that the bat had been released in the lower levels. If it was, she could only hope they wouldn't encounter it again as they left the building.

"Man, there's always something going on when you're around, Sam" Ted joked good-naturedly and clasped the woman's shoulder as she smiled sheepishly for her strange luck in life. Well, at least they couldn't say she was a boring traveling companion when even wildlife brought adventure to her.

* * *

**A/N**: Only a cute but frightening bat could infiltrate a bathroom. We'll have the group continue their tour of France elsewhere as Ted and Cody lead a group to the scariest catacombs located there and initiates a ghost hunt that leaves his group stuck in a hole.

_Xthefirestillburns_: Thanks for enjoying my tale, I haven't had the time to review your story just yet but I did read the first two chapters before finals week. I love the alternate reality twist that doesn't place him in wrestling, he makes one hot psychologist I'd love to hear endless lectures from. Keep writing to your heart's content!

_Skywhisper_: I'm glad to have made you laugh. ^_^

_Rikki18_: We'll keep exploring the nonexistent romance between the two because this is a romance genre tale, aside from the humor. Stephen and Samantha will learn just how much they have in common as time progresses and with their adventures, bonds are easily formed.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Ted & Cody, Ghostbusters_

"Look! I found a souvenir" Ted declared happily as he beamed with joy, horrifying everyone else when he held up the remnants of a hand as the tiny phalanges dangled in midair. Samantha felt faint immediately at knowing a real person's hand was in Ted's, wondering how he couldn't differentiate true bones from false replicas.

Phil quickly stomped over to wrench it from his hands, keeping it out of sight as their group huddled against a wall decorated with femurs, tibias, and humerus bones. The dark-haired wrestler shuddered at holding human remains in his hands and hissed lowly with indignation, "That's _not_ a souvenir, you dolt! Do you see a souvenir shop around here?"

Realization dawned on Ted's face, his eyes shifting between the dusty bone he found and the fake that dangled off of Cody's backpack. . .the one he believed had fallen off and could claim as his own.

"Ew. . .you keep it" Ted frowned with disgust as he winced, an uncomfortable shiver running down his spine for holding human remains. Those were the last things he'd expected to find in a place that was supposed to house human remains securely as a museum. Again, he could just be naturally craftier than a normal person. He would not be touching anything else from now on because he didn't want to disturb or desecrate a human being that had died ages ago. Phil tried to force the bones back into his hands because he didn't want to hold it either, both wrestlers playing hot potato as he protested shrewdly, "No, you put it back! I can't-"

A couple of passerby's halted their quarrel as it increased in volume, drawing curious stares from the other tourists and Phil hid the bones behind his back to cover up Ted's crime. He certainly wasn't about to be named an accomplice, especially in a foreign country that would bar him from ever posting bail without his embassy's clearance. Phil plastered a photogenic smile to convince the crowd of innocence as they passed by to gaze at the bone ridden walls, piping up to their camerawoman, "Hey, Samantha, take a picture for me, will ya?"

She played the part with a nervous smile as their true intentions were hidden from other tourists, ushering Cody and Paul to stand alongside him to cover up the crime completely. When they were alone in the passageway as the tour headed onwards to the next site, Phil shoved the hand into Ted's and pushed him towards the corridor he'd entered from. They sent him by himself to teach him a lesson on how pranking could go awry and Ted's disheartened voice echoed through the corridor, "Oh man, I'm so gonna be haunted for this. Please don't, I never meant any harm, I only wanted to create memories through horror."

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_Thanks for reading my story, I truly appreciate it, and please, leave a review._


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