Disclaimer: I do not own the people or characters portrayed in this story. The characters belong to the WWE and the real people own themselves. This story will contain swearing and possible adult situations so if you're too young, maybe you should go read one of my many other Jericho/Steph stories.

A/N: So this was pretty much a request story. The premise is loosely based on the movie "The Proposal" starring Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock (a good movie if you haven't seen it). Anyways, people had wanted to see a Smoochy adaptation of it so I thought I'd try my hand at it. Well aware that I have so many stories, but if you've got a million, what's one more to the pile I say. I'm putting my own take on things so it's going to be a little different and I hope that's okay and that it turned out okay. I'm not too sure on this first chapter and if it sucks, be brutal and let me know, it's all good. Just a little nervous about this one since I've not really tried to emulate a movie since a very ill-fated story. But anyways, on with the story, please leave a review letting me know what you think and if you want to be brutal, go ahead. Hope you enjoy. :)

She didn't think of herself as a ball-breaking bitch, but odds are, she is one.

But then, who really thinks of themselves that way? Well, maybe some people, some people who wanted to be intimidating, but weren't really so they acted like they were. Stephanie McMahon didn't need that, however, she was just a bitch without even trying and it worked for her. Sure, her father owned the company so maybe she would've gotten where she was just by being her father's daughter, but she'd earned her job just like anyone else and she was damn proud of the work she did.

If that meant everyone was afraid of her, so be it. She didn't work here to get along with anyone, she worked here to get the job done and nobody was better at being head of creative than she was. She was damn good at what she did and nobody needed to agree with her or even like her, they just needed to work with her. So far so good because she didn't hear people complaining to her.

Unfortunately it was because nobody wanted to talk to her.

Everyone outside of the McMahon family (and the jury was still out on Shane) knew not to get in Stephanie's path. She was mean, bitchy, sarcastic, and she didn't like anyone. Whenever she'd walk down the hallway, people would move out of her way almost instinctively. Everyone remembered when Brie Bella had gotten in her way and actually tripped her by accident. The Bellas had been moved to ECW for that infraction. Or the wrestler (nobody could remember the poor bastard's name anymore) who had dared say that he might not be committed to the sport and Stephanie had cut him faster than you can say 'not want to wrestle."

In short, Stephanie took much pride in her job and that's why she was the best at it.

"Ca-caw! Ca-caw!"

Stephanie looked behind her and saw Chris Irvine flapping his wings towards her and she scowled and folded her arms, wondering what it was this time. It wasn't that she didn't like Chris Irvine, it was that she hated Chris Irvine. The man was cocky, conceited, egotistical, and a jerk. They'd never gotten along. The animosity that they showed on-screen had been real. When she'd done things like throw a bucket of water in his face or slapped him, she'd not been acting but, rather, taking out her aggressions on him.

"What do you want, Irvine?" she asked, trying to keep this professional.

"Don't you get what I am?" he said, grinning at her in that way that infuriated her. He was in one of his "silly" moods, where he was going to insult her and try to get her to play along. He could be so predictable sometimes and she didn't know why she was the target of his blasé attempt at "humor."

"I don't care what you are. Unless this has something to do with work, get out of my face," she told him, starting to walk away again. She didn't have time for his stupid games. She just wished he would find some other target. There had to be plenty around here, what with all those stupid "divas" her father kept employing. She was sure if you tied them all together their collective breast implants would make them float away. She was so happy when she'd gotten hers taken out. She'd let her stupid ex-husband (then boyfriend) talk her into them and she'd regretted them since. When they'd divorced, the first thing she did after having a celebratory drink was to schedule the appointment to take those hideous things out. She'd felt like a person with two life preservers strapped to her chest at all times.

"I'm not actually in your face, caught you on a technicality," Chris said from behind her. He started flapping his arms again and raced around to the front of her so he was walking backwards. She only hoped someone would push a chest behind him so he could fall flat on his ass. Now that would make her night.

"Go away, Chris, surely there is someone else who you can act like an ass in front of because I'm not impressed."

"Well damn, here I was, hoping you would be impressed," he said, then got in her face, just to defy her, she knew, and then he said again, "Ca-caw, ca-caw."

"What are you doing? Would you stop?" she told him.

"I'm a crow, you know, following the Wicked Witch of the East around," Chris said proudly, like this was something he'd thought up long ago and was just waiting for the right moment to break it on her.

"Oh, very funny, because I'm a bitch, I get it, great," Stephanie said, her voice deadpan as she kept on walking. Yeah, yeah, yeah, this wasn't the first time she'd heard herself being referred to in less than savory terms. Came with the territory. Let them have their words because in the end, she had all their careers and she was blessed with an amazing memory.

"You're really no fun, you know that, you need to lighten up, become a human being for once," Chris told her as he watched her walking.

It wasn't that he hated Stephanie McMahon, okay, so he hated her a little bit, but really, it wasn't too much or anything, it was more that she was just so…off-putting. She kept everyone at a distance and normally he'd chalk that up to insecurity, but in Stephanie's case, he'd chalk that up to snobbishness. She thought she was better than everyone and that made her an easy target for Chris. Nobody cared either way because nobody liked her. He was a god among the wrestlers for insulting her as much as he did and not getting fired or demoted or something. He shuddered to think what it was like around here while he was gone on his hiatus. Everyone must've cowered in fear of the evil Stephanie.

"I don't have time to play your little games," Stephanie said. "While you go out there and wrestle for like 20 minutes, I'm the one making sure that you have places to wrestle, that things are going smoothly during the show, and most importantly that you get a paycheck. So you might want to think about that next time you're acting like a dope."

"I wasn't acting like a dope, I was being your minion, oh evil one," he said, making his voice sound strange.

She rolled her eyes, "Go bug someone else, I can't stand you."

"And I can't stand you so it goes both ways."

"Do you think I care that you don't like me?"

"Do you think I care that you don't like me?" he asked her, repeating her question back at him, which he knew she hated. Once, he repeated everything she said for a half hour straight before she threatened to make sure he never got another match as long as he was with the company. Someday he'd tried to beat his personal best and go for 45 minutes.

"I don't care what you care about."

"Sure you do," Chris said, "A happy wrestler is a happy performer, right? That's all we are to you, just cattle to do your bidding. You write for us, you help book feuds, we're just like your little toys, you place us the way you want us and tell us what to say, well, not me because I'm too good for that shit, but other people. You just like to control everyone."

"And so what if I do?" she challenged, dared him to say something further.

"Then I think you definitely warrant the evil Stephanie moniker that you've gotten over the years," he told her. "We should all come up with a nickname for you, do you have any suggestions. What is a word that means horrible and mean that starts with an S? I'm trying to think of one and I'm drawing a blank. Since you're on the high horse of creative, thinking you're better than everyone, you should be able to come up with a word right off the top of your head, so help a brother out, huh, Stephanie?"

"Leave me alone, I'm busy," Stephanie said, walking away again. He was sure to tire of her soon. He'd been at this for a while and like the little boy that he was, he would soon lose interest in her and flit to whatever shiny thing caught his attention.

"No you're not, you're walking, walking is not being busy."

"I'm walking to a place where I will do work."

"But you are not working right now so you're fair game," Chris pointed out. "The minute I see you doing work, then I'll leave you alone because I wouldn't want to bother you while you're putting all your toys in place. Just don't make me do any kissy faces at any of the divas, okay, got that?"

"Maybe I should put you into another one of those romantic storylines you seem to enjoy so much," Stephanie said, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, you and Trish, that was so hot and heavy, the chemistry was amazing."

"You wish you could have that kind of chemistry with me," Chris scoffed.

"Oh yeah, because people were banging down the doors rooting for you guys to make it," Stephanie told him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I don't have time to listen to your little boy antics, go along and play with all the other children while I go be an adult."

"You know, you're really insufferable," Chris told her. "You're not better than we are, Stephanie, no matter how many times you think it, you're just like the rest of us, but you don't even want to admit that, do you?"

"I'm not like the rest of you, sorry," she told him.

"Yeah, I think we'll see about that. But go on, go be alone, like you usually are. It's no wonder Paul saw fit to cut you loose, I probably would've too if I were in his situation."

Stephanie slapped him across the face, shocking him in the process. He hadn't been expecting that slap at all so to have that sting on his cheek, he was flabbergasted she'd go that far. He looked at her and her eyes were like blue fire, sizzling and crackling behind those eyelashes of hers. He'd said something to set off a nerve. Chris had no idea the logistics behind Stephanie's divorce from Paul nor had he ever seen cause to go seek out those logistics. He'd always just assumed that Paul had gotten tired of Stephanie, at least those were the rumors, but then, the rumors had probably started with Paul and he could say whatever he wanted. Obviously he'd said something wrong and had paid the price.

"Get out of my sight," Stephanie said, her voice low and seething with hatred. He almost regretted what he'd said, but this was Stephanie and she'd said far worse to people he liked so this was just a little of the comeuppance she deserved.

"You guys, meeting in five," someone said as they passed by her and Chris.

Stephanie leaned around Chris, "Meeting, who called a meeting?"

"Your dad, ma'am," the production assistant said.

"My…he didn't clear that with me," Stephanie said, confused as to why her father would dare call a meeting without informing her about it.

"I don't know, that's just what I heard," the guy shrugged and Stephanie looked to Chris. "Well, get to the meeting!"

"Oh yes, mistress, yes," Chris said, pretending now to be an Igor-like assistant. Stephanie wanted to shove him, but refrained. For some reason or another they ended up walking next to each other to the meeting, though neither said a word. Stephanie did have a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she saw the redness spreading across Chris's cheek from her slap. He'd deserved that, the jerk.

When they arrived at the meeting, Stephanie took a seat up front because she was important and Chris took a seat in the back because he wanted to get the hell out of here and being in the back assured him that 1. he could sneak out of this thing lasted too long or 2. if this meeting didn't last long, he could be the first one out of here. Vince's meetings were usually boring and usually used as a way to boost his own ego. Chris cared very little for meetings, which is why he wasn't a businessman.

"I've called you all here because I have a very big announcement."

Chris only now noticed that the entire roster was here, ECW and SmackDown included.

"What is it, Dad?" Stephanie asked and Chris rolled his eyes, the man would get to what it was, but little miss Princess had to jump in and put in her two cents. One of these days someone would shut her mouth.

"After much careful consideration, I have decided to resell to Donald Trump."

"You're giving up Raw again?" Paul asked.

"No, I've decided that I think it's time for me to take a step down, I have sold the entirety of the WWE to Mr. Trump and he will be the new CEO and President of the company, effective immediately. Tonight will be my last night as the President of this company. Thank you very much."

Before the buzz started, the last thing Chris heard was a strangled gasp from Stephanie.