Disclaimer: The characters and real people in this story do not belong to me, the characters belong to WWE and the real people own themselves.


A/N: Okay, so this is a one-shot, it's kind of fluffy, so leave a fluffy review for me to read and I'll be eternally grateful. Italics are flashbacks. Enjoy. :)


"Chris, I swear to God, if you do not wash your socks, I'm going to break up with you and leave you for someone a little bit cleaner."

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked as he walked into his bedroom that he shared with Stephanie on occasion, whenever she deigned that Connecticut was too lonely or too cold, or too something and she wanted to come down to Florida to be around him…or clean up after him as the case was that very moment.

"Your socks, I went under the bed to see if you had an extra suitcase because I wanted to bring some of my things from Connecticut back down here, the more weather-appropriate clothes since Connecticut is freezing this time of year."

"Oh, and then something about socks…"

"I found a pile of dirty socks," she told him, "and they smell really bad too. Don't you do any laundry around here, this place is a pig-sty, you really ought to be ashamed of yourself for living like this, I mean, there could be things growing underneath this bed, you could have intelligent life forms colonizing down here."

"Wow, do you think I could get a Nobel Prize for that?" he asked. "And why would I need to clean when I have you over every other week cleaning up after me because I'm such a pig?"

"Because it's the human thing to do, you live like a frat boy, it's really disgusting."

"Then break up with me," he shrugged. "It's easy enough, rip the Band-Aid off, there's got to be plenty of women out there that are messy and want a piece of Chris Irvine."

"Oh, you forget, you've been gone from wrestling so long that people have forgotten about you and nobody wants you anymore, just me," she told him, sitting on the bed. "And even that is iffy right now. I don't know what I see in you some times, you just…you aren't my type."

He went and knelt down in front of her, rubbing her knees, "And just what, pray tell, is your type, Ms. McMahon? I would love to know what your type is exactly."

"Someone…"

She paused, because she didn't know if she even had a type, did she have a type? She wasn't even sure that she did have a type at all. Maybe she should have thought this out a little bit better. Maybe she wanted a man who would buy her pretty things all the time, on a whim, who would come home with roses for her every night, just a small token of what he meant to her. Maybe she wanted a man who would take her to foreign places, whenever and wherever she wanted to go. Someone who would buy her tickets for Japan and then show her all the places that she wanted to see, introduce her to new things, maybe that was her type.

Or maybe it was the man who stuck by her at her lowest points, who reassured her when she was feeling like she wasn't doing a good job. Maybe it was a man who cleared out closet space for her wordlessly when she had never even asked if she could keep clothes at his house. Or maybe it was a guy who kept telling her that if she needed him back on the show, all she needed to do was say the word and he would give up everything, drop everything to help her, that it was all her decision (even though so far, she was keeping that in her back pocket). Maybe that was her type.

"So, you going to tell me your type?" Chris asked expectantly, looking at her. Behind the questioning in his eyes, she could see the smallest amount of hurt there as well. She knew him though, she knew that he was worrying that he wasn't her type and that he never would be anything that she could possibly want. She pulled a little on the goatee he had insisted on re-growing and smiled.

"Someone exactly like you actually, now that I think about it," she told him with a genuine smile. His sigh of relief was almost imperceptible, but it was there. She leaned down to brush her lips against his, but he scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his upper torso and he pushed himself up further, which just served to push her farther down onto the bed until she was on her back and staring up at him. "So what's the answer to the million dollar question for you? Your type is…and then you fill in the blank…"

"My type is…" he furrowed his brow as he nipped a little as her neck before fluttering kisses along her jaw. "A complete bitch, she has to always want to be in control, always wear the pants in the relationship, but deep down inside, she has to be a huge softie…know anyone like that?"

She scoffed and hit his arm, "Who are you calling a big softie?"

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her again, "Okay, you're just a bitch then, happy now?"

She pulled away and crinkled up her nose. Chris looked at her and was trying to figure out if she was mad at him or something, maybe he had been wrong in assuming that she would find that funny. "What's the matter, did I say something?"

"No," she said, sticking her tongue out and turning her head to the right. Chris looked as well and laughed. "Seriously Chris, those socks stink."

He picked it up and threw it onto the ground. "There, better? Now can I score with my girlfriend?"

"No," she said, although she was rubbing in between his legs with her thigh and getting him all worked up in the process. The doorbell rang and her eyes lit up. "Oh, my package is here, I was expecting it today, get off me!" she told him, shoving him so he fell on the bed.

"Wait, you're getting packages delivered to my house now?" he asked as he got up to follow her. "Who said that you could use my personal address for your packages? And just what are you ordering and not telling me? Is this a vibrator, am I not satisfying you enough in bed?"

"You're so gross," she called out as she opened the door and looked down A brown box was sitting there waiting for her. "It's just the DVD I bought, for the Breakfast Club, you know, that movie from the 80's, it was one of my favorites growing up, and when I heard they had it on DVD, I had to have it."

"So why to my house?"

"I don't know, is that a problem, really?" she asked. "I mean, I know that it's your house and all, but I didn't think that you would have a problem with me having stuff delivered. We've been dating for almost two years, I thought it might…if you don't want me to…"

"No, it's okay," he told her, kissing her nose. "I just…you're really starting to think of this as one of your homes, aren't you?"

She blushed and looked down, a little embarrassed. Her relationship with Chris was the healthiest one she had ever had with anyone. They saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things, and it never felt like one of them was better than the other one. She was happy all the time with him. She didn't think it would be this good in the beginning though. They had started off their relationship a little on the rocky side, especially since he had made the decision to leave the WWE two months after they had started dating.

"You're…leaving?" she asked, her eyes clouded with confusion. "Just like that…you're leaving?"

"After SummerSlam," he confirmed with a nod. "I'm just burnt out, Steph, and right now, I feel like I've reached my peak."

"Oh," she said, looking down and nodding to herself. "Okay, well, did you already tender your resignation to my dad?"

"Yeah, I gave him my notice, and we decided the night after SummerSlam will be my last appearance."

"Okay," Stephanie told him, going into her business-mode rather than her relationship mode. "Well, I should get the paperwork on that started, thanks for telling me this far in advance, it'll make it a lot easier."

"Are you okay with this?" he asked tentatively, looking at her and trying to study her. He had known her for a long time, but he still had trouble reading some of her moods. She forced the smile on her face, hoping it didn't look like she was pushing her muscles into this awkward smile.

"Of course I am," she lied, and she was a champion liar. "I'm just going to get to work, I've got a lot to do tonight, you've probably got a lot to do as well and I don't want to keep you from that, so I'll see you later."

"After the show, right? Because I thought we could order up room service, have a night in the hotel room for once since I'm sure nobody expects us to go out again this week, I'm a little tired of people always thinking that we're going out with them. Is it so wrong to want to stay in for one goddamn night?"

"You know, I'm really tired, I think I'll just stay in my own room tonight, I've been lying to my dad about being in my own room for so long, maybe I can be honest just this once."

"I wasn't saying we had to have sex tonight, if that's what you're thinking," Chris told her. "We pretty much have sex all the time, I'm sure that a one night break would give us enough rest," he finished with a wink.

She smiled weakly at him. "Yeah, I have work, so I think I'll take a rain-check, but I'll definitely think about stopping by."

She left the confused Chris behind, and she went to her own office, ordering her assistant out so she could lock the door. She sat down heavily on the couch, sniffling a little bit as the tears burned in her eyes. She couldn't figure out why Chris would want to leave now. She must've done something. He wanted to stay in tonight so he could dump her, she was sure of this. They always went out after the shows with a bunch of the guys, and it was always at Chris's behest. He was the one who always wanted to go out, and the night that he tells her he's leaving is the one night he wants to stay in, yeah, she could read the writing on the wall.

She tried to wrack her brain in thought of where she went wrong. She had liked Chris for so long, but for so long she had kept her feelings hidden because he was Chris Jericho, the great Chris Jericho and she figured he had a carousel of girlfriends and didn't need someone like Stephanie. But when she finally got up the courage to ask him out, she was shocked and pleasantly surprised when he had said yes. It was something she didn't expect. The past two months had been fun and she thought he had liked her too, despite it being her who made the first move.

Maybe she was reading too much into their relationship. Maybe she was looking at serious and he was looking at a little bit of fun and now he was tired of his new plaything. That was probably it. He probably had someone new on the horizons and now that the challenge of herself was gone, he wasn't needed, and he didn't need her company anymore either. He could leave her and WWE behind and never look back. She should've known that she was the one with the feelings, the only one with any feelings. To him, she was probably a decent, but not great lay.

"Steph?" came his muffled voice through the door. "Can I come in?"

"It's locked," she told him.

"Um…did you break your legs or can you open it?" he asked with a chuckle. "I hate having a conversation with a door. It's not as animated as you are."

She stood up and braced herself for the coming conversation. If he was going to dump her, then she was going to beat him to the punch. McMahons didn't get rejected, they did the rejecting. A deep breath and couple strong blinks later, she was ready to confront him. She opened the door and didn't bother to wait for him as she went back and leaned against her desk. He closed the door and stood there in the middle of the room, like he was about to get executed.

"So, I'm sensing something wasn't right earlier, and I wanted to talk about that," he told her.

"Well, you were right, something wasn't right," she said firmly. "And I think that the thing that wasn't right was us. It's been really great, Chris, really, but honestly, I think its run its course and I think that we should part now before it gets too sticky a situation."

"Wait…what…are you breaking up with me?" Chris asked, his eyebrows knitting and meeting in the middle of his face.

"If you want to put it like that, I just thought of it as going our separate ways, with me staying here and you going, it makes the most sense for both of us. We've had fun, don't get me wrong, Chris, it has been fun, but let's be real, we're from two different worlds, it never would've worked," she said, fighting to stay strong and not break down and ask him what she could change about herself and how she had screwed this up.

"Wow…I wasn't…wow," he said, having to take a seat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, if you want, I don't see how it'll change things…"

Chris ran a hand over his face and then looked up at her, "What did I do wrong?"

"What?" she asked, stupefied by his question.

"Well, I really like you," he told her. "I thought I could even…love you…soon, if I didn't already, but…now you're hitting me with this. I thought that we were good, I thought we were having a good time, being with each other. And now you hit me with this, and it's…unexpected. This is really out of the blue, and…was I overbearing? Was that it? Because I can dial it back. I just really like you, Steph, and then…when you asked me out, I thought you did too, but…wow, so what did I do?"

"You mean…you weren't going to…break up with me tonight?"

He threw his head back, his hair going with him. "What? No! I wanted to hang out in my hotel room and eat and maybe watch a movie, but break up with you? Not on the agenda."

"I didn't do anything wrong?" she asked weakly.

"With what?"

"You're leaving…you're leaving WWE, you're leaving…me," she added quietly. "I wanted to know why."

"I'm not leaving you," he scoffed. "I'm leaving the company yes, but nowhere in that whole thing did I think about leaving you. I thought that I could come visit whenever I wanted, and that maybe you could…start coming down to Florida to be with me."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead."

"Yeah, I guess I kind of think of this as home," she told him wearily.

"Hey, I have something for you," he told her, grabbing her hand. "You can have it while we watch that DVD." She followed him, setting the box down on a table without opening it as he bounded into the kitchen. He pulled something out of a drawer and gave it to her. "It's a ring I bought for you."

She laughed as she looked down at the Ring Pop he had presented to her. She had loved these since she was younger. She opened the packaging and slipped it over her index finger and sucked on the "jewel" in this case, the lollipop tasted like strawberry, her favorite flavor. Chris narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

"Are you kidding me?" Chris said. "Damn it, that's not what I wanted to give you."

"What?" she asked. "I love Ring Pops, they're like my favorite candy. And it's very sweet of you to buy me a ring with such a huge rock on it. I'm impressed."

"Yeah, but this is what I wanted to give you," he said.

She looked down as he slid a Tiffany blue box towards her and she looked up at him as he opened it up to reveal an actual ring. It was platinum, a beautiful diamond shining back at her, just begging to be put on her finger. Chris smiled at her impishly and she slowly extracted the candy from her mouth, setting her hand down on top of the counter, the edible ring forgotten about.

"So, do you think you can get used to smelly socks under the bed?"