The redhead had decided that, since her accompanying him to the ring was so impromptu at this time, that she would go wearing what she already had on - a pair of faded blue hip-hugger stretch jeans and a black baby tee.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay back here?" the tall blond man asked as he sat down beside her on the couch upon which she was sitting.  "You would have plenty of company once the others arrive..."

Amy shook her head.  "No, Adam...it's fine.  I'd rather be out there with you."

"Okay...and since you're not in the script just yet, we won't have to worry about Kurt trying anything on you," he said, thinking about the Olympian attacking her with the Angle Slam or possibly even the Ankle Lock.

"Kurt's a good guy," the redhead said.  "Besides, if Paul thinks I just had a miscarriage, the entire locker room probably thinks that - Kurt included."  She cast her gaze down at the floor.  In truth, she felt like hell - before leaving the hospital, she'd had a prescription filled for some type of painkiller, as Dr. Perl had explained that she would feel some pain for a week or so after the procedure she'd had done.  She was also exhausted, although one wouldn't necessarily notice this, as she hid it pretty well.  And finally, the anguish she felt over the loss of the baby - their baby - had not left her.  She still couldn't believe she hadn't even suspected she'd been pregnant.  It was odd.

Adam took hold of her right hand, rubbing it gently with both of his as he gazed lovingly into her hazel eyes.  "When I'm through for the night here, we'll go back to the hotel, and I'm gonna take good care of you, okay, baby?"

The redhead managed the tiniest of smiles as she gazed into his handsome face.  She knew how fortunate she was to have a man like him.  She reached up with her free hand to caress the blond man's cheek.

The tall Canadian leaned in to place his lips on hers, and he was a bit surprised that Amy didn't pull back after a few seconds.  Instead, she slid her warm, moist tongue into his mouth, causing him to moan softly with desire.  They hadn't kissed this long or passionately for the last few days, since Amy had landed in the hospital.

Afterward, they gazed into one another's eyes, and Adam raised their clasped hands, placing a tender kiss on the back of hers.

Somehow, he'd managed to put to the back of his mind all the suspicions Trish had raised.  However, he couldn't help the newer nagging sensation that was just to the side at the moment...

*

Trish Stratus pulled her wheeled suitcase behind her as she, Matt and Jeff entered the arena.  They had just arrived moments earlier, and the little blonde was anxious to meet with SmackDown General Manager Stephanie McMahon to find out about her future here.

"I'm glad we're gonna be on SmackDown," Jeff was saying.  "More of our friends are here - especially now."

"Yeah," Matt agreed.  "And I'm real glad Amy's gonna be here now, too...Though I'd be surprised if Bischoff let her go so willingly."

"Why would you say that, Matt?" Trish questioned.  "He doesn't give a damn about us divas - how many bra and panties matches has he put us in?  The pig!"  She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"She's right," the younger Hardy brother said.  "And Amy and Trish are way better than that - all the divas are."

"Of course they are...Hey - I wanna go see Shane and Shannon.  Why don't we go find them?"

"Okay."

While the Hardys decided to go off in search of their two friends, Trish was intent on speaking with Stephanie first and foremost.  She continued on her way down the hall, but she hadn't gotten too much further when a voice caused her to stop.

"Well, hello...Look who's here..."

Trish heard the voice from behind her, and it made her skin crawl... Paul Heyman.  She turned around to come face-to-face with the man, whose fat countenance wore a smug expression, complete with an ugly grin.

The blonde woman didn't like Heyman at all.  She found him to be a creepy, slimy, not to mention sneaky individual, and she didn't trust him.  Of course, the fact that he'd hit on her more than once - back when they'd both been on the RAW roster - after she'd told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't the least bit interested contributed to this feeling.

"Buzz off, Heyman..."

"Why so hostile, Trish?" the man asked in an innocent tone.  "I just wanted to welcome you to the SmackDown roster, even if it isn't official just yet," Paul said with a smirk.  "Sorry to hear about your friend Amy and her little mishap..."

The petite blonde narrowed her eyes as she glared at the piggish man with loathing and disgust.  She wanted so badly to slap him and tell him to fuck himself.  Instead, she said, "'Little mishap'?  You jerk!  She had an ectopic pregnancy!"

"Oh, is that what happened?  Word around here is that she suffered a miscarriage."

"Yeah?  Well, either way, it's hardly a 'little mishap.'"

Heyman continued to smile at the Canadian diva.  "You know, Trish...I might be interested in getting a new client.  Brock Lesnar is a great find, but it would be a lot more satisfying working with you."

"Whatever..." the blonde muttered, her utmost displeasure crystal-clear on her face as she glared at the man.  "I have a better idea - why don't you just take a cold shower?  Or better yet - just take a shower."  With that, she turned around, continuing at a brisk pace down the hallway.

Paul Heyman's booming laughter followed after her, sending an unpleasant chill up Trish's spine.