"Trish, you're up tonight! Excited?" Jeff Hardy asked, approaching her.
"Oh yea, more on the nervous side, but I can't wait!" she said, pulling herself out
of the chair in the corner and stretching, reaching high enough for her stomach to
peer through her tight black top.
"Well, I have my match in 5. Good luck out there, you've got potential." He said,
walking out of her locker room. She followed soon after.
'Potential. Yea Right.' She said to herself, wandering down the hall aimlessly.
'That's the last thing I have in this world.'
"No, it's not. You have a lot more than you give yourself credit for." A man's voice
called from behind her. "Trust me, I've noticed it since I saw your first rehearsal."
"Oh, hey Chris. I'm glad you think so, most guys think all I'm good for is a good
lay and a twin package of silicone." She laughed.
"Good lay, eh? Do this match right, and I might just have to test ya out on that
sometime." He winked. He reached out and patted her back before preceding
down the hallway. "You'll do fine."
"Damn..." she sighed.
~~*~~
"Trish, dear, I must admit, that was one of the most impressive performances I
have seen in a very long time." Darren Matthews said as the show was ending.
"Quite impressive."
"Why thank you, Mr. Regal. I'm glad someone finds my services appeasing in the
ring, since most just enjoy my time out." She said, grabbing her fur coat from a
rack in the corner. "I'll be on my way now. Good night."
"Regal? Since when do you call me that backstage?"
"Since we never know when the cameras will be on us. Who knows? A
Stratus/Regal storyline could get high ass ratings!" She laughed "Or not. Either
way, see you tomorrow, Darren."
"Yes, bye now." He replied. Of all people, he stayed in character even when the
cameras were off, which was the main reason he annoyed everyone.
"Trish! Wait up!" An out-of-breath voice called out the back door to the
Continental Airlines Arena. "Wait!"
"Chris?" She asked, confused.
"Yeah, um, I need to talk to you. Alone. Meet me, Room 326. Wait outside." He
said, still panting. "Can I count on you?"
"Sure. Is it important?" she replied.
"Obviously. Just be there, I'll explain everything when I get there."
"Alrighty. See ya then." She screamed. "326...326...326" she kept repeating the
number to herself.
~~*~~
Trish walked in to the main corridor of the Sheraton Inn. She walked to the
elevator and made her way to the third floor. "Room 326. Alrighty, I'm here." She
tapped her foot impatiently as she awaited Chris' arrival.
"Hey, sorry. I made it here as soon as I could." Chris said, running down the hall.
"Are you always out of breath, or is it just when I'm around?" She asked, with a
large smirk on her face. "Now, what was so important that you needed to speak
to me at 3:30 am?"
"Come on. We'll settle this inside." he said, unlocking the hotel room door. "I just
need to set my...holy fuck!" he exclaimed, dropping his suitcase. His clothes
spilled all over the floor as his jaw dropped in surprise. "Amy? Darren? What the
hell are you doing here?!"
"Chris, Trish. Nice for you to drop in, but may I ask...well one, why are you here,
and two, how did you get a key to our room?" Amy looked up. "We were kind of in
the middle of something, as you can tell."
"I thought this was your room, Chris. Why..."
"It was my room. They told me room 326 and handed me this key. What in the
name of hell is going on? Literally? Amy? You and Darren?"
"Oh yes, Chris, it's been two months and eight days as of now. He actually likes
being besmirched sometimes, especially when it's by me. Isn't that right,
sweetie?" Amy replied, leaning down to give him a kiss.
"Of course it is, my dear, and only by you." He said, wrapping his left arm around
her, while she was lying on his stomach.
"So, Chris. Not to sound rude or anything, but if you two don't mind, we have
some unfinished *business* to take care of. So I'll be seeing ya later." Amy said,
leaning back over and giving Darren a deep, romantic kiss as Chris and Trish left
the room.
"Damn Trish, I'm sorry. That was rather, um, unusual." Chris said.
"Disturbing, to say the least. Let's just meet in my room so there's no shit with the
front desk. I'm in 415. Come on. Vince will never know." Trish replied, pushing
the up button on the elevator panel.
~~*~~
Trish pushed her hotel room door open. "Excuse the mess, but at least no one is
in my room." she laughed as she took her trenchcoat off and set it on a chair in
the corner.
"Yeah, thank God. If I had to experience something that horrifying again, I don't
think I could pull through this time. I'd probably die of insanity convulsions or
something." He laughed back, as he took a seat on the chair she had hung her
coat over.
"So, what was it that you so urgently needed to speak to me about?" She asked.
"Well, you see, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. And, well, I've come to the
conclusion that, um, you see, I think that..." he started.
"Chris? Get to the point. It's 4 am, I'm tired, I'm not in the mood for head games,
seriously." She said, looking at him with a stern look in her eyes.
"I've come to the conclusion that you...well I....you and I haven't....I'd like to...you
know what? Just forget about it. I'm going to go down to the front desk and get
another key, then I am going to bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow at the house show.
Night." He said, standing up and walking toward the door.
"You're not going anywhere. You made me look at the most horrific thing I've ever
seen in my life, Lita's chest, and yet you plan on leaving me here hanging? Just
say what's on your mind, damn it! Or you're not leaving!"
"Trish, I...think...I just want to know if you think of me as anything more than a,
you know, friend..." He said, staring at the floor blankly.
"Well, yeah actually I do...why?" She asked.
"Because I've really grown fond of you and well, I was wondering if you weren't
busy sometime tomorrow if you, I don't know, wanted to have dinner with me?"
He asked, peering at her with his head still facing the floor.
"Sure, I'd love to! In the meantime though, why don't you crash here for the night?
It's late, and there's probably no one at the desk anyway. That is, if you don't
mind sharing a bed. I don't want to sound offensive or anything, like some kind of
slut. Unlike Darren, I don't portray my character off-screen." She replied...waiting
for an answer.
"Offensive? No way. Thanks for the offer...um, I mean, thank you for giving me a
place to sleep with you...no I mean..." He stuttered.
"Chris, just get ready for bed. I understand what you mean." she chuckled as she
watched him fumble through his bag aimlessly, searching for the clothes that he
had already laid on the bed. "Over here, sweetie. You're already unpacked."
"Oh, yeah, I knew that already, I was..." he started again.
"Chris...get dressed. Enough with the explanations." She said as she went in the
bathroom to get changed.
"Yes, Ma'am." He replied.
Trish hit the light switch as they both climbed in bed. "Good night, Chris." she said
softly.
"Trish?" he asked. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"You're not going to dick me over, are you? You're not just doing this to make me
feel like you want to actually go somewhere with me then dump me tomorrow?
Because if you are, please, please, please tell me now...I can't take the shit of
being used again."
"Chris, I wouldn't do that to you. You're the biggest sweetheart I've ever met in
my life. Go to sleep and stop panicking. We'll talk more in the morning. Since
we're here again tomorrow, well today, you can crash here again tonight if you
want to. It's no problem with me." She said. "Good Night."
"Thanks. G'night..."
~~*~~
"Chris? Chris!! It's 9am! Vince is going to kick your ass if you don't get up! I've
told you six times, God damn it, Listen to me!" Trish screamed, shaking Chris
viciously. "Get your ass out of bed! NOW!"
"Trish, hun, it's Tuesday. We don't have to be at the arena until 6:00.
Smackdown, remember?" he replied.
"Yeah but..."
"But, but but... Trish, if you want me out of here that badly, you only have to say
so. I understand. This was a totally fucked up way that you and I ended up here.
If one single person in this federation finds out that I spent the night in here,
they're going to automatically assume that something happened between you and
I, and it's going to be nothing but 100% chaos...and you know it as well as I do.
Don't even tell me you don't." he said, burying his head back into the pillow.
Trish walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, opposite side of Chris. "Well
then...Chris, look at me, please? Stop this shit." He glanced up. "I'll start over.
Well then, let's give them something to talk about..." she said as she leaned down
and gave him a small kiss. "What do you think?"
"I'm not saying a word..." he said as he pulled her body on top of his, wrapping his
arms around her back. He pulled her lips into a soft embrace, as his hand pushed
the silk of her nightgown against her skin. He gently ran his finger between his
body and hers, tracing a line circling the edges of her breasts. "Only question I
have, Trish, is do you honestly think you can handle me?" he asked, looking into
her eyes.
"Not to steal Steve's line, but Hell Yeah!" she said, leaning down once again,
begging him to engulf her mouth in his warm caress once again. He refrained,
only long enough to slide the red silk over her head and on to the floor, before
bringing his mouth back to hers for another deep, long kiss.
"Trish, I've been in love with you since the moment you entered my life. I've just
been too big of a chicken shit to tell you. I thought of a million ways to do it, and I
never could. I thought there was something between you and Hardy, and I figured
I had no chance. I mean look at Jeff, then look at me. I'm nothing. He's what? 24?
I'm 30. I'm old, no one wants me. But now you know, so things will go the way
fate has them planned. If this isn't going to work out, then please tell me now. I
don't want to live a lie, no matter how much I would love to..." He said. "So, Trish,
not to sound like some 17 year old High School jock or anything, but, um, will you
go out with me?"
She looked down in to his eyes, smiling. "You know I will, and for the record...Jeff
has nothing on you..."