Stephanie woke with such a sharp start that, momentarily, she was confused as to where she was. It didn't help that where her husband usually laid was now occupied by a drooling canine, but in retrospect, that wasn't too different. As she caught her breath, she reached over to run a hand through the soft furry belly of her pup, getting the drowsy Andre to beat his tail gently against the bed. It was over the dulled beat that Steph heard the noise, one more, that awoke her originally.

"Phone," she yawned tiredly before turning so that she could get to it. Once she had it, the brightness made her squint, but still she moved to poke at the screen, wishing to see just what the two messages were.

Are you up?

Because I am.

Grinning finally, although tiredly, Steph settled back into bed, phone in hand now.

2 am here

Her message didn't sit unanswered for long.

I know. Just wanna talk.

Before she could reply, she got another messages.

Can I call?

Glancing at Andre who was peeking an eye open back at her, she shook her head.

No dog will flip

Paul was undeterred.

Why's that mutt in my bed?

Stephanie reached over again, to rub at her puppy's belly, before answering.

Not a mutt r u gettin ready?

I am. It's why I wanna talk on the phone.

She took a breath before staring down at Andre. Not wanting him to get up and follow her, she gave him the stay command, but he only yawned anyways, not moving in the slightest as she slipped out of bed.

"Took you long enough."

"I had to come downstairs," Stephanie yawned as she found herself on the couch in the den, tugging a blanket around herself. "Babe. And I do have to get up in, oh, three hours, so-"

"Skip work," was what Paul grumbled to her. He sounded exhausted and she hated that, but still, the tone always made her grin. It made her think of early mornings at their lake house or tour bus, when he was either too relaxed to be awoken or so tired, waking wasn't an option. Until she would shake him awake, of course. The he could fight it, the weariness. For her. "Stay up and watch me do my interviews."

"Watch you on what, Paul?" she complained. "Let me go hop on a plane, get to wherever you are in Europe, find whatever stupid channel you're gonna be on-"

"How dare you, Steph. This is a very important TV station. Services many. It-"

"What's its name?"

"Don't question me, woman. I'm not in the mood."

"Woman?"

"I'm in character, babe. I'm Hunter."

"I don't care who you are. Don't call me that."

"Shut up, woman."

"Paul-"

"Hunter."

"Annoying."

"Mmmm. I love hearing your voice in the mornings."

"It's not even morning yet," she griped. "I'm on the phone for your benefit."

"My benefit?"

"Your benefit."

"You left me a long voicemail on the phone last night about how you missed me and wished I'd picked up and-"

"Lies."

"What?"

"It wasn't long."

"It was three minutes, Steph."

"And it was early evening, at best, 'cause I'd just gotten off work."

"Which would be night time for me, yeah."

Huffing a bit, she said, "Well, I picked up in the middle of the night for you."

"You were up."

"I wasn't up." Shifting on the couch, she moved to stretch out, tugging the blanket over her head as well. "Your texts woke me up."

"Poor Stephie."

"Poor me."

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Keep talking to me."

"Well, I actually have to let you go in a few-"

"Paul," she whined though it turned more into a yawn than anything else.

"What?"

"Why'd you make me call you then?"

"How much of my voice do you need to hear?" he griped right back. "I'm doing this for your benefit, you know."

"Oh, are you?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's my benefit for you to keep me up in the middle of the night?"

"Yep."

"No gain for you at all?"

"Whatsoever."

Eyes slipping shut, she whispered, "When are you coming home?"

"You sound like the girls. You miss me that much?"

"Mmmhmm."

"'cause you love me?"

"I'm bored." And that was probably an equal amount of truth as what he'd just proposed. "Without you."

"Bored?"

"I can't walk by your office to say hi because, oh, you're not here."

"You do that, like, maybe once a month, so-"

"I can't just text you whenever I want because, oh, Paul's probably sleeping."

"I mean, I do it to you without any worries, so go right ahead."

"There's no one that I can talk to when you're not home."

"You talk more to that damn dog than you do to me when I'm right next to ya, so-"

"Paul, you're making it really hard to care to stay up."

She could almost feel the grin in his next words. Almost.

"If my avoiding your call last night says anything, it's that I didn't care."

"So you're gonna say that, had you been up-"

"I'm saying I was secretly up and just ignored your call, yes."

"Not so secret now, is it?"

"You drug it out of me."

There was a noise from upstairs then and, holding her breath, Stephanie wasn't sure if she hoped it was one of her daughters, who she'd only have to lead back to bed, or her dog, who she'd have to take outside, but she knew in that moment, she kind of hoped either or would find their own way back to sleep. But when there wasn't so much as another peep from above, she knew whoever it was hadn't even left their bedroom, which meant she didn't have to get up yet.

Or share her phone call with one of the girls.

Because she knew that they missed their father probably more than she missed her husband, but at the same time…

She knew it was selfish, fine, but if it was with this one thing, it probably wasn't a damnable offense.

"Are you still there?"

"Mmmm," she hummed at Paul's question. "Just disappointed."

"In?"

"The fact that you aren't even the least bit more bored without me hanging around."

"That is what you do," he agreed with a disdainful tone. "Hang around."

"Paul-"

"You know that I'm bored too, stupid." That time, he sounded more like he was chiding her. "Dumb woman."

"We're not playing that."

"There's only one thing that Hunter plays, Steph."

"I thought others were the ones playing games against Hunter?"

"Hunter doesn't get played." Then he paused. "Well, he did once, but it turned out pretty great. I mean, she calls him at unimaginable hours-"

"You called me!"

"Did not."

"Well, you asked me to call you," she defended. "And the hour's only bad for me."

"Who do you think I'm worried about? Huh?" He tsked. "If you keel over now, you think Hunter's getting that big payday? Not if you go before your father. You gotta get all the fortune and then I can divorce you. Duh."

He'd have gotten an eye roll, but with her lids already shut, she felt the extra effort would be a waste over the phone anyways. "Duh."

"Steph."

"What?"

"You know how I'd wanna talk to you forever if I could?"

"At least until my father died and you could divorce me for a bigger payout."

"Right, until then."

"Go on."

"But," he added, the word feeling as heavy as her desire to never get up again, just sleep right in that exact spot for the rest of her life, "i seriously do have things to do."

"I know."

"We can talk again when we're both, you know, somehow miraculously not busy again at the exactly same time."

"We were both very busy, but you just get so bored without me. Remember? Paul?"

"No, I don't remember you're salacious retelling of fthe truth."

"I'm a McMahon, it's what we do."

"It's what I'm about to have to go do on TV right now, so-"

"Go finish getting ready." She hardly even opened her eyes again, there, beneath the cover of a thick blanket. Winter hadn't even officially begun yet and she was already slowly freezing to death. "But when we talk again, I want you to admit how bored you are without me."

"Fat chance."

"Have free time then, because you won't be getting off the phone next time til I hear it."

"We'll see."

"We'll listen, Paul. It's how phones work."

"That's how they work?"

"Yeah."

"Oh! Can I ask you something since you know so much about phones? How's this big red button on here wor-"

She made a face at the Call Ended screen, but only tossed the phone down on the couch with her and shut her eyes once more. Not for long though as, with his father MIA for so long, Andre was already on high alert. Which meant after a good half hour of lying around contemplating it, the puppy got up to go find just where his mother had gotten off to. And, once he found out, he did the only reasonable thing in the world.

"Ow, Andre, that hurt!"

He pounced on her.

It got Stephanie up, at least, which is what he wanted. Then he was insistent about going outside and, in that moment, Steph wished she'd never answered her husband's stupid texts in the first place. But only that moment, because when she slunk off back to bed a little past three, she was more than glad she had.

He called again, like he always did when he was away, at breakfast that morning, but then Steph only sat her phone on the counter and all the girls spoke to him on speaker as they filtered in and out of the kitchen, getting ready for the day. As was the norm when he was out, they spent the majority of it one upping one another by tattling on one another, but Paul listened and gave comments with the most amount of sanity anyone could have in those moments.

Steph found herself almost added to the 'I love you,' at the end he gave to each of the girls, but when he got to her name, he was interrupted by their youngest questioning just why he was ignoring Andre who was sitting right there and knew about the snub? Then Andre got it instead and Paul had go to, but that was fine, as Steph really didn't want to have to hear the girls snicker and giggle over it anyways.

Only a little, at least.

"Guess you must be bored, you taking this call and all."

"Ha. More like I don't want another three hour voice mail."

"Three minutes," Stephanie defended some hours later as, in the car driving home from the office, she gave her husband a call. "And that's what you said. I swear it wasn't that long."

"Definitely was."

"And even if I wanted to make it three hours, so what?"

"Wait, are you acknowledging that as a possibility? Should I be on the look out for those now, Stephie?"

"Considering I can't because you you have an overflowing influx of voicemails that need to be cleaned out before I report you to a higher up and you get your bum butt fired, no."

"This is my personal cell, Steph," he pointed out. "I can ignore messages on it all I want."

"You better not be ignoring my messages."

"I didn't, knucklehead."

"Don't like being called that either."

"What do you like being called?"

"Try cherished wife, partner in life, the most caring, kind-"

"Gross. No, I like stupid woman."

"Paul-"

"My point was that I didn't ignore your voicemail. Obviously." She heard his hotel bed squeak as he shifted around in it. "I saw it and immediately listened to all three hours of it."

"I'd be grateful, if it were actually three hours, but-"

"And what higher ups can you report me to anyways?" That time he snorted. "Who controls me?"

"Me."

"Hardly," he laughed. "I can do whatever I want. No one can touch me there."

"Anything you want?"

"Anything I want."

"I'll ask around about that. Newsflash to me."

"I'm the closest to a McMahon you can get without the horrid act of actually having to encounter one. People will put up with whatever bullshit I throw at them to make sure that stays true."

"Guess it's a good thing you married so well, huh?"

"Married so well. So calculated. So cerebral. So Hunter."

"Hunter-"

"Call me, Paul, Steph. I wanna hear my real name for a bit."

"Mmmm, I think I'm just gonna call you Triple H."

"No."

"You're the one that wanted to go play in Europe, Trips," she pointed out. "Not me."

"Hate that. And I didn't," he grumbled. "I was cast out by you McMahons."

"Oh, whatever."

"Get too popular and you people send the person away."

"We kill you, actually, but go ahead."

"And I'm not playing, Stephie."

"You're not?"

"I'm not. I'm hurtin', if anything."

"Awe."

"I'm being serious." Again, the bed shifted. "I'm all banged up And without any of my women to take care of me."

The face she made was equally for the driver that pulled in front of her as it was for her husband's voice over Bluetooth.

"Your women?"

"You and the girls," he griped. "What else could I mean?"

"Yeah, whatever could you mean."

"I need one to bring me a drink! One to get me the remote. Can someone bring me my phone? Who's making me dinner? But nope. All four are you are gone."

"I'm glad you got a wife and had kids just so they could cater to your needs."

"Why do you think I had all daughters, huh?"

"I didn't know it was by choice."

"Of course it was," he grumbled. "What? You think I want some gross little snotty boy pining after my position? No. I want submissive women to care for me when I get old. I want to watch my legacy be just that; mine. No chance of some arrogant little ass ruining-"

"Paul?"

"Yes, my liege?"

"Are you really hurt?"

"A bit bruised and battered, it is all," he assured her. "Nothing to worry about."

"Paul-"

"I'm serious, Stephie. I'm okay." She heard him pat loudly at his chest. "I mean, I'm, you know bored-"

"Knew it."

"-without my dog, my boy, to play fetch with. Keep my muscles loose. And how am I supposed to sleep without getting an accurate, separate, rundown of just what each of my daughters did at school? Not all at once, blurred together. I can't live this lifestyle."

"I didn't hear a mention of your wife in there, Hunter."

"Hunter has no wife," he grumbled. "Just got an annoying old hag that-"

"Too far."

"Then don't call me Hunter."

"You call yourself Hunter."

"I can call myself whatever the fuck I want."

"Someone's grouchy."

"Just sore," he admitted finally, truthfully. "And my back is killing me, but you're not here to rub my shoulders."

"Should I drop everything this time and fly there to take care of you?"

"I mean, if you wanted to be a devoted wife-"

"I would," she admitted as well. "You know."

And that time, the smile in his voice was a bit more real.

"Yeah, Stephie," he sighed. "I know."

Paul was too busy, she felt, the next two days to bother much, but she couldn't help herself with texting him far too much. She even felt like it was too much as, even though he hadn't answered her last two, there she was, sending another. But he'd always get back to her, eventually, though it was more business stuff on his end.

The day that Paul got home, she actually found herself out of town instead, which meant it was finally her ignoring his texts and missing a call or two. Not that he minded, she was sure, as he was mostly just recuperating for the day and spending time with the girls. It wouldn't be until the next day that she got back, early that morning, just a bit after the girls had been taking to school, to find him and Andre lounging in bed, the former scrolling through his phone and the latter making quite a mess of some sort of bone.

Paul got up for her though (actually, they both did, but it was only Paul that Steph was concerned with then, for once) so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, holding him close for what would usually be too long for the man, but after so long away from one another, even he seemed to enjoy.

"Mmmm," he groaned as one arm moved instead to wrap around his center and rub at his back. "I'm hurtin', baby."

"I know." Pulling back a bit, she moved to grab one of his hands. "Come sit back down on the bed. Let me-"

"I need you to look at something first though." He was turning instead to grab his phone. "For work. I was talking to-"

"Later." She wouldn't even look at his phone in that moment. "Come sit."

Which he did, on the end of their bed, watching as Steph took a moment to finally greet the overly eager Andre as well as slip her coat and shoes off which gave him time to pull his shirt over his head and roll his shoulders some, getting ready for a good rubbin'. It was only once she was behind him on the bed that she spoke.

"Maybe," she said, peeking over his shoulder, "you could pull whatever it was that you needed to show me on your phone? And I could just do both? You think?"

Because they were pretty equal, he figured (hoped), he and work to Stephanie. She wanted him to feel better about as much as she wanted her company to be okay. And, honestly, considering the care she gave to both, there wasn't much griping tha he could do.

Just feeling Stephanie's hands on him, anywhere on him, was good enough for Paul though, her true attention be damned. They eventually tumbled, anyways, away from the edge of the bed and back into it. As he sunk into his own pillow (which would need a good washing or two; it stank of Andre), he pulled Steph down with him, grinning openly from the feel.

"What?" she giggled, hand patting comfortably at his chest. "Paul?"

"Just glad to be home," he admitted softly as, in the distance, they heard Andre rundown the stairs, skidding into something for his stop. Both held their breaths before they heard his claws clipping even more distantly off, meaning not only was he not injured, but he also thought he was in trouble and was rushing away to avoid punishment.

Not that he was getting it.

In the moment anyways.

Both Paul and Steph (who wouldn't anyways) were too comfortable for any of that though.

"Are not," Steph said after the moment of concern passed. "You know you're not."

"What do ya mean? Of course I am." His grin was sleepy then, but still present. "I was miserable, out there, on the road. On my own. For so long. Don't get me wrong; I like being off leash for a bit, but you stay off too long and you start to actually have to care for yourself. Think of the horror."

One of her hands came up to scratch at his beard. 'You like being leashed?"

"So much, yes."

"Good." With a giggle, she dropped her hand to his bare chest. "'cause I'm glad you're home too."

"What?" He pretended to be shocked. "Couldn't tell. Not you. You hide it so well."

"Life's just...different, when you're not around."

"Well, duh, Steph."

"In ways you wouldn't think about, I mean," she clarified with a frown. "I mean, yes, I expect riding to work alone to be different or getting the girls ready for bed to not be the same, but it's other things too, when you're gone for so long. Like, at first, me and Andre loved having all that extra space in bed."

"What extra space? And if that mutt got fleas in the bed-"

"But he's not as warm as you. And he always gets up eventually to go sleep somewhere else."

"I do that too, Stephie. What an awkward way to tell you about my affair."

"Paul, shut up." And his chest got slapped then. "I'm speaking."

Making a face, one of his hands came up to rub where he'd been struck. "This is one of the reasons for this affair."

"You hit me too."

"Never."

"You flick me in the head, you throw stuff at me-"

"Only when you're annoying or I want to get your attention." Then he frowned. "Bet you missed that too, huh?"

"Your abuse?"

"Our shared abuse," he corrected. "And no. I meant having someone to boss around."

"Oh, I boss plenty of other people around."

"i figured."

"But it's not the same."

"Yeah." He waited for her to rest his hand on his chest again so that he could fold his own over it. "I figured that too."

"It's weird," she was going on after a lull in the conversation. "When I get up in the morning and you're not in the shower, singing loudly just to annoy me."

"I do that for my own health, thanks."

"Or, like, we ordered pizza on Friday, right? And you weren't here to give me disapproving looks when I ate too many slices?"

"I don't give you disapproving looks."

"Paul."

"I'm glaring at you because you sit there and take a slice from the pizza that I get for myself, with olives on it, that no one else in the house wants, but then proceed to pick the olives off, one by one."

"I've told you," she complained, "that I like the juice that they leave behind, but the actual texture weirds me out. I feel like I'm eating fish eyeballs. And I give them to you, you know. To eat."

"I don't want something your grubby hands were all over."

"Uh, your grubby hand is currently all over my grubby hand, so-"

"Not to mention," he went on, "its not the same, you know? If it's not baked into the pizza?"

"Yeah, I do know that. That's why I like for it to be baked into my slice and then taken off."

Head tilted to the side, he stared at her for a long moment before saying, "So anyways."

"So anyways," she repeated, "It's just… I don't even know anymore."

"You don't?"

Shaking her head, she said, "You got me all mixed up."

"I'm pretty good at that, ain't I?" When he lifted his hand that time, it was to gently poke her nose. "Stephie?"

"Always."

"Mmmmm." His finger ran down her cheek that time. "My main talent."

"Mostly," she added then, "I just kind of, you know, get bored when you're not home."

"You said that, before. On the phone."

"I was being serious."

"You don't have enough free time to be bored, babe," he told her. "Do you?"

"I found time to lay around with you right now and kill time, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but if I wasn't here, then you'd be doing something else. Not just lying here, longingly."

"I have never said that I...longed for you." She made a face at him. "Sounds like your old brain got a bit confused. Maybe that's the other bed you crawl into?'

Nodding, he said, "I'm glad you've accepted my affair so easily."

"'Well, when it's lead in has to do with Andre, it's not like I can hate it too much."

"How were you even bored then? When you had your real best friend here with you?" he griped a bit back. "I mean, what am I even good for?"

"In what world did you ever think, even for a second, that you might be my best friend to begin with?"

"Gettin' a mean streak, ah?" Paul shook has head at her. "You imply an affair one time and the woman goes for the jugular."

"One time? It's all you ever joke about."

"'snot."

"Is too."

And they were shifting again, almost thoughtlessly, so that she could lie on her back and he could rest on his side, getting to be the one to stare down at her then.

"I'm not a funny person, Steph," he told her darkly, able to even pull off the face. His wife, not so much, but that hardly mattered. "Ever."

"At all?" she asked, smiling brightly s she had since being reunited. "Paul?"

"At," he agreed, "all."

"Your career's a pretty big joke, if you ask me."

"Not as big as this marriage."

"With two big jokes like that going on, how are you not a funny guy?"

"Because," he said simply, "neither end funny."

Making a face finally, she asked, "How do they end then?"

"You single, alone, and jobless."

"How do I end up jobless?"

"Your pops likes me way better, Steph. Accept it." He shrugged as best he could, laying the way he was. "I have."

"Well," she sighed, "you're at least his favorite son-in-law."

"Oh, am I?"

"You are."

"What an honor."

"But you're still not my best friend."

Huffing, he fell onto his back once more, them just laying beside one another in the middle of the day. It was a rarity, for sure.

"What does Bluto give you that I don't?"

"Well, for one, his name's Andre and for two, are you sure it's your back that's hurt and not your head?'

"I'm just tired," he defended weakly, though not refuting any indication of injury. "And the question still remains."

"Mmmm." Humming, she thought. "Andre doesn't' say mean things to me all the time, for one thing. Or ever, actually."

"Well, if that's one of the qualifications, I take myself out of the running."

"He's trained."

''I'm trained."

"You're not trained."

"I don't piss in the house."

There was a pause before, in unison, they both said, "Usually."

Then Paul was frowning over at her.

"For someone that's not funny," was her only chide, "your jokes sure are predictable."

"That's what would make me unfunny, dumbass."

"That falls under qualification one."

"I'm already disqualified, so I don't care."

"Except about being trained."

"I'm plenty trained." Blinking up at the ceiling, he paused before saying, "I came back, didn't I?"

"From Europe? Which you escaped too?"

"Think we already clarified you and your jealous family sent me there."

"Think I already clarified that if we want you out of the way, we kill you."

"That's not family friendly." Then he made a face. "Or a joke that would go over well in court."

"Sounding like we're heading off to a divorce court, this affair and your hurt feelings and all."

"Ha. I have no feelings, stupid."

"Stop calling me names."

"And we wouldn't need a court." Turning his head to the side to look at her, he siad, "You'd fork over the kids, house, cars, and all equity in the company to me. No questions asked."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I'd let you keep the dog."

"And which dog is that, babe?"

"With you? It doesn't seem to make a difference. You just like animals."

"More than my husband?" With a slow nod, she agreed. "Yes."

"Liar."

"Maybe."

"But only slightly."

"And just for Mastiffs."

"You wouldn't trade me in for a tabby cat?"

"Cats can't be trained," Steph reminded as he only shook his head.

"Give it a decade," he sighed, "and just about anything can."

"Paul?'

His head was still facing her, but his eyes were drifting shut and it was obvious that their moment was fading at a slightly faster rate than his consciousness. "Mmmm?"

Steph shifted closer as she turned onto her side. Softly, she asked, "You weren't even a little bored with out me?"

"Why do you ask me questions that, not only do you know the answers to, but also if I answer the opposite way, we'll only end up fighting? And more importantly, you know I'll never answer anyways because that's just how I am?"

"Sometimes," she said as, shifting closer still, her head found its way to nuzzling against his side, "a little confirmation is nice."

"Is it?"

"After you've been away? Always."

"Hmmm." A hand moved to stroke her hair. "Been a bit, you know? Since I was away like that? And you weren't with me at least for a day or so."

"I know."

"I forget."

"Like which dog is living or dead."

"I did that for your benefit."

"How is bringing up the still fresh wound-"

"Oh lord."

"-of my dead dog a benefit to me?"

"Did I say you?" Again, he gave his best shrug he could muster. "I meant it was for the benefit of a good joke."

"I thought you weren't funny?"

"No funny person calls themselves funny, Steph. Like I don't go around announcing that I'm great in the sack. I let you do it for me."

"Do they call their wives dumbasses though?"

"Only the funniest of funny guys."

"I think I'm pretty funny."

"Your admission to that is proof that sadly, Stephie, you are not." His hand stilled for a moment. "'cept to me. You're plenty funny to me. Funny loo-"

"If you're gonna say funny looking, don't."

Opening his eyes just to blink down at her, he complained, "You better stop stealing my lines, woman."

"Stop it," she griped right back. "You can't even say you're Hunter right now."

"The fuck I can't. I'm always Hunter."

"Always?"

"When I'm gonna get reprimanded by you? Definitely."

She giggled and hid her face in his side while Paul only laid there, thinking of sleep.

"Steph?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you gotta go in today?"

"After noon."

"It's getting there."

"Yeah."

"Stephie?"

"What," she whined then, "Paul?"

"I'm so fucking bored when you're not around."

"Mmmm." Patting his stomach, she whispered, "What's seeing the world and doing what you love without your best friend?"

Paul beamed then, to himself, before saying, "I dunno. I'll have to ask Andre."

That time the giggle was a kiss before, against his flesh, she yawned, "I missed you."

"Yeah." Letting out a long sigh, he agreed, "I missed you too."

I've been away for a bit, I know, but I had some personal stuff to deal with. Things are still stabilizing, but I hope to be back to a semi-normal upload schedule soon. The request list has ballooned again, so I'll try to get back to whittling it down once more. Requests are still open though, for whatever that's worth.