Disclaimer - Stephanie McMahon and Chris Jericho/Irvine own themselves. I do not know them or claim that they are indeed a couple in real life. (Although that does not stop me wishing.)

A/N - This is just a short story that I came up with today. I hope whoever reads it likes it and has some enjoyment out of it.

Chris Jericho, jerked awake in his bed, he had been having the strangest dream. Not that many of his dreams made sense. But this one was out there. Way out there in his opinion.

It all started off as mind-numbingly ordinary as usual. He was painting for some unknown reason. A room that seemed familiar to him, but he could not place why it was.

"Christopher Jericho, get your ass down here now!"

He did as he was told, he had heard that tone many times before, to know not to mess around. Bounding downstairs in a hurry, almost tripping over his own feet getting to the bottom, he hurriedly made his way to the kitchen, where the voice had originated from.

"Stephy baby, what's wrong?" he asked her worriedly.

"You've been ignoring me all day!" she told him like a petulant child.

"Honey I told you," he started, walking up to her from behind and en-circling his arms around her from behind and then resting his hands on her ever increasing stomach. "I was painting the babies room today. You know otherwise I wouldn't be away from you for half a second. Not then, when we were dating and not now when we're married," Chris explained to her.

"But I've been bored out of my brain, and I can't reach the cereal on the shelf, cause my tummy keeps getting in the way," Stephanie whined.

"Tell you what, you make a bowl of cereal," he said, reaching for the box of Fruit Loops, a craving she had acquired through-out her pregnancy. "And then you can come up and watch me paint,"

Stephanie nodded her head and did just that. She quickly made her Fruit Loops, not forgetting to sprinkle half a tub of sugar over then, and then followed her husband upstairs, into the half painted nursery. She took a seat on the floor, munching her snack as she absently watched Chris paint the room, yellow.

After about five minutes of painting the wall in front of him, Chris noticed the absence of the crunching sound that accompanied his wife when she was eating. Turning around, he was in perfect time to get a face full of yellow paint. He could honestly say, he was not expecting that. The laughter that flowed through Stephanie soon after, jolted him from his stupor and he glared her way playfully.

"Sweetie, you so know that wasn't your best idea," he threatened with amusement lacing his voice, as he advanced on her with his own paintbrush ready to attack.

"Honey, think twice before you do anything stupid," Stephanie pleaded. "I mean you wouldn't honestly think about covering me with paint in my condition, right?" she asked innocently.

"You're right," Chris stated, as he lowered the paintbrush walking up to her. "You would kill me anyway, so why should I even attempt it?" he questioned, taking her in his arms, and bringing his lips down upon hers.

Stephanie was enjoying there kiss when she suddenly felt a wet and squishy thing hit her face, she opened her eyes and to her horror saw Chris's mischievous eyes, bright with unrepressed laughter as he slowly and deliberately brought the brush down the side of her face.

"Psych!" Chris told her with a laugh, he couldn't believe she had fallen for it, and from the looks of it he was soon going to be paying for that little stunt.

"Chris!" Stephanie screeched. "How could you have done that? To me? I'm your wife! You're wife!" she stressed. "That's it, tonight,"she got out before his lips were once again upon her, silencing her rant.

Stephanie moaned into the kiss, like she always did, she couldn't help the effect that Chris had on her, one kiss from him was like heaven and turned her into mush in no time. She reached behind him and grabbed a hold of the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and ripping it away from his body, leaving behind the upper body that she had memorised, through-out there many nights together. Looking up at him, her eyes were nothing but lustful and full of love for the man standing in front of her.

"Baby," Chris started.

"Shut up," Stephanie told him simply before assaulting his lips again, pulling him close to her body, well as close as she could with her bump there. Her hands grazed his sides, which in turn caused Chris to hiss with delight, his lips opened and his tongue danced across her lips asking for entry, which she willingly granted. There passion intensified as there tongues met, making it even more intimate than it was seconds before. Chris mirrored Stephanie's actions earlier, pulling her t-shirt off of her body and gently ran his hand over her abdomen, loving the feel of her skin against her hand.

"If I'm not mistaken," Chris stated with a husky voice and ragged breathing. "This is how we ended up needing to paint this room baby,"

"Hmm," Stephanie said with a sigh. "I remember that night, it was like magic," she remember with a smile.

"It's always magic when I'm with you Stephanie, I love you so much," Chris told her with all the honesty he had in him.

"Well baby, you know I do to," Stephanie told him.

"Tell me. Say it," he asked, pulling her close to him, like if he let her go than she would simply disappear and he would be dead inside and out knowing she was his oxygen, simply his reason for living in this world.

"Chris, I love you," she told him genuinely, she did love him, to his very core.

He smiled at her answer he knew she did, just like he did her, he just loved to hear the words come from her mouth. Then and there he captured her mouth again, and slowly pulled her to the ground with him, set to show his wife just how much she truly meant to him, and how much he would love her forever.

That's when he had jerked into consciousness, finding himself instantly awake and exhaling rather heavily. "Why in the world, does this sort of thing always happen to me? Do I have a magnetic pull or something to it?" Jericho wondered aloud to himself.

"I haven't a clue Honey, but can you keep it down, you're making the baby kick," Stephanie's voice floated through-out the un-finished nursery.

Chris looked to his side and saw the half painted walls of yellow paint and the paint on Stephanie's face. He reached up and felt his own face and was resulted with the feeling of hardened paint. He was laying there next to Stephanie, naked covered in only a discarded sheet that happened to be in the room, and Stephanie's belly was large, she was pregnant with his baby.

Damn must be Tuesday again.

Fin.