Disclaimer: I do not own Chris Jericho or anything else pretaining to World Wrestling Entertainment. I am just a fan; and I am not profiting from writing this piece.

Fourteen Years Ago -- Summer of 1995

I was sitting tensely in the passenger's seat of Chris's rusted, old pick-up truck. He was silent, staring blankly out of his rolled down window. His long, blonde hair was blowing in the slight summer breeze; and the burning end of his cigarette sent ringlets of smoke into the night's sky. Chris took another drag off of it and exhaled loudly.

"Can I get one of those?" I squeaked, looking down at the half-empty pack of cigarettes lying in the console between us.

Chris cast me a cold stare out of the corner of his eye as he flicked his unfinished cigarette out of the window.

"What? Are you just itching to add to your accumulating list of nasty habits?" He countered in a husky, dry tone.

I winced at his words and looked down at the fresh tear in my favorite skirt.

"I didn't know the party was going to be like that."

Chris eyed me again. The moonlight accentuated his blue eyes, making them almost fluorescent.

"Whatever."

I fell silent for a moment.

"You're not going to tell Jay, are you?" I asked in a regrettably child-like voice.

Chris cackled out loud, but there was no humor behind it.

"Yeah, like I really want to be the one to tell him that his baby sister was almost raped at a party she shouldn't have been at."

I grimaced again.

"I know…I know."

"No," Chris spat, turning to me. "No, Madison, I don't think you do. You're a smart kid, so how could you be so damn stupid? What would you have done if I was still wrestling in Mexico City and hadn't been home? What then? Why would you even go to a party like that by yourself?"

"I-I don't know," I replied with a shrug. "Dean seemed so nice at school. I didn't think anything of it when he invited me. I guess I was just excited to be asked out by the most popular guy in school…I-I wasn't thinking straight."

"So I see," Chris nodded, clenching his jaw tightly.

"He said that it would just be a couple of friends. We'd watch TV and eat cold pizza. That was it. That was all there was supposed to be."

"And you actually believed that?" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "If he's the most popular guy in school, there is no such thing as an innocent party."

I nodded and pursed my lips to keep from crying.

"Y-yeah," My voice was barely above a whisper. "I know that now."

"I'm only coming down on you like this because…" Chris trailed off, sighing.

"I understand. It was a senseless act of rebellion that nearly cost me my innocence. You're just reiterating the fact."

Chris glanced at me, his facial features softened, and then he laughed. It was a genuine laugh.

He smiled, causing me to blush. That was an automatic response. Chris's smile always made me nervous because he made it seem as though he were about to divulge to me a dirty secret. Add that little mannerism in with the boyish good-looks and borderline-bad-boy charm, and Chris Jericho was a lethal individual. Being sixteen and having to sit next to that kind of perfection was anything but pleasant.

"Leave it to you to try to sound mature during a time of colossal immaturity."

"You were sixteen once…I'm sure you had your moments of utter stupidity."

Chris shook his head. "Nope, nothing comes to mind."

"Well, aren't you just a saint," I rolled my eyes, finally able to smile.

"Yes," he flashed me a smirk. "Yes, I am."

I may have been teasing, but Chris was indeed a saint. If it hadn't been for him, I would have been trapped at that deviant sex-spot otherwise known as Dean's parents' house. If it hadn't been for him, I would have had more than torn clothing…

I glanced down at Chris's right hand. He had had it concealed for the last thirty minutes or so, but now it was clutched around the steering wheel. By the dim light of the moon, I could see that the knuckles were swollen and the surrounding flesh was becoming slightly discolored.

"How's your hand?" I asked.

Chris looked down at it and replied, "Hurts like hell."

I frowned. "I'm sorry…again."

He smirked, grabbing my chin in between his index finger and thumb.

"You're worth it."

"Well, that's good to know," I smiled, looking away from his gentle gaze, "Otherwise, you sent him flying off the porch for nothing."

Chris stared at me for a moment and then let me go.

"Can I go home now?"

Shortly after picking me up from Dean's, Chris had pulled into the vacant parking-lot of the grocery store; presumably to simmer down after the altercation. We had been sitting there for quite some time.

"I'm not taking you to your mom and dad's looking like that," Chris answered as he glanced over my disheveled appearance.

My strawberry blonde hair was in knots. My make-up was running down my face; and I had dried blood underneath my fingernails from where I had clawed my way out from under an intoxicated Dean.

"We're going to go back to my apartment so you can wash-up. I'll drop you off afterward."

"Okay."

Chris turned his keys in the ignition. His truck made several agonizing coughs before it finally roared to life. Then we peeled out of the parking-lot.

Chris had a very small, very modest apartment. It was all he could afford while he worked his way up the professional wrestling ladder…just like my brother. Chris had been living and wrestling in Mexico for nearly two months. I knew he wouldn't be in this place for long. He never was. I gave it two, three weeks tops. As soon as Japan or Germany beckoned for him to perform, the apartment would be on the market again.

I washed my face and hands thoroughly and then I brushed my hair. Chris had given me one of his Beatles T-shirts to replace my blouse, which had been ripped in the melee as well. There wasn't much I could do about my skirt, but my parents wouldn't look too closely at for it to matter. I stood in front of Chris's bathroom sink and rehearsed the story I was going to tell them when they asked why I went to Jen's house wearing one thing and came back wearing another.

I sighed.

Telling one lie to replace another…I was developing nasty habits after all.

"Madison," Chris lightly tapped on the bathroom door, "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine."

I sighed again, taking a whiff of my shirt collar. It smelled like Chris.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head as if he could see.

"Would Ramen noodles be all right? That's all I have right now."

I smiled as I opened the bathroom door.

Chris was standing a few inches from me. His powder-blue dress shirt was unbuttoned; a white muscle shirt was underneath it and drawing attention to his abdomen. He had his thumps through the belt loops of his jeans. How could I focus on eating noodles when he was dressed like that?

"That's fine," I squeaked, "but it's not necessary. I'm not that hungry."

"No, ma'am," Chris swished his index finger back and forth. "I will not accept that. I demand that you eat. You owe me that much, don't you think?"

"I-I guess I do," I replied, looking down at me feet.

"Well, come on then. You go make yourself comfortable on the couch, and I'll get the water boiling."

Chris gestured for me to step in front of him.

It felt like déjà vu, only there were minor differences. Instead of sitting tensely in the passenger's seat with Chris next to me, I was sitting tensely on Chris's sofa with him next to me. The scent of the piping-hot Ramen noodles mingled with the aroma of Chris's cologne. We were silent again. I swirled my fork aimlessly around my bowl.

"Do you want to go to the police?" Chris asked, causing me to jump and nearly spill noodles into my lap. "I'm sure they could charge him with assault at least."

I looked up at him and forced a laugh.

"They could charge you just as easily. You hit him."

"I suppose that's true."

He fell silent for a moment.

"You just tell me what to do, Madison, and I'll do it."

"Just don't tell my brother," I repeated, smiling at how selfless he was. "This has to stay between us. We need to take it to the grave. If Jay knew, you and I both know he'd kill the guy."

"It stays between us," Chris promised with a nod of understanding.

"Good..." I sighed and then gave him a look of desperation. "With that out of the way…I guess it would be stupid of me to ask if I could stay the night, huh? I just…I feel safer…protected here…with you."

Chris frowned, but it was more out of pity than disapproval.

"I don't think your parents would be too keen with that; and Jay would most certainly blow his top if he knew…However, you can stay here a while longer…just until your curfew."

"I'll take it."

More silence followed.

"So..."

"So…What?" I countered.

Chris smirked as he twirled some noodles onto his fork and ate them.

"How's school going?"

I laughed.

"School, seriously? Out of all the things we could talk about, you wanna talk about how I'm doing in school?"

"Well, excuse me." He held up a hand defensively. "You weren't exactly jumping in with an intriguing topic of conversation here. I had to ask something to get the ball rolling."

"School is fine," I giggled, putting a strand of hair behind my ear, "A's as usual."

"That's my girl," Chris said, grinning.

I giggled again, but this time out of nervousness.

"How's that wrestling thing going so far?" I asked as a shoveled a heap of noodles into my mouth. How classy.

"Have you not seen my apartment?" he asked, raising a brow.

I laugh as I casually looked around his place. I had seen better things come out of a dumpster. "That good, huh?"

"I'll get there one day," he said with a slight sigh.

I smiled. "I know you will…Jay, too…Then you'll both leave me in the dust."

It was meant to be a joke, but there was some seriousness to it. Once they got their big break, I knew I would only see them sporadically…if that much.

"Doubtful," Chris smirked again. "We'll need someone to share the glory with."

"That's what wives and children are for," I pointed out.

Chris chuckled, eating some more noodles.

"Marriage is out of the question at the moment; and children…could you see me as a father?" He laughed at the thought and looked at something on the grungy wall in front of us. "I mean, if I had a daughter, I would probably spend all of her teenage years worrying about whether or not she has a guy like me watching out for her whenever she attends high school parties with horny eighteen-year-old boys."

I looked down at my half-empty bowl. Even though he was doing it in jest, I wished he would stop mentioning my stupidity; although, I could not blame him for doing so.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "That was inappropriate."

Chris looked away from me and gazed deep into the distance. It seemed as though he were reliving the events of this evening.

"When I saw you tonight…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you were running toward me with that look in your eyes…I thought something had happened to you…" He looked at me and made a gesture like something invisible was being ripped out of him. "It was like my heart had been ripped out of my chest."

He paused for a beat.

"You wouldn't have to worry about Jay getting to him. If that guy had hurt you, I would have put him six-feet-under myself. I wouldn't even think twice about it."

I was silent for a minute.

What could I say to that? That was either the sweetest or the most disturbing thing a man (other than my brother) had ever said to me. In turn, I responded with the only thing I could think to say to him at a time like this…

"Thank you…for everything."

Right as I was about to kiss Chris's cheek, he turned to look at me. I kissed him on the mouth instead.

I froze, millimeters from his soft lips. His brow was furrowed. He was both shocked and confused. Why wasn't I pulling away? I didn't know. An invisible force, something beyond my control was telling me to proceed. I kissed him again and let my lips linger on top of his. I was waiting for him to tell me to stop. To my surprise, he didn't. He only stared.

Chris's lips parted with ease as I kissed him for a third time. He was hesitant for a moment before he started kissing me back.

I had been kissed a time or two in my young adolescent life, but those—those paled in comparison. However, I didn't expect anything less from a man that had virtually been ripped out a story book.

I relished in the splendor of Chris's mouth; the texture of his tongue and the bittersweet taste of his saliva. However, maybe I relished a little too much, because he quickly jerked back.

"No," he said to me gruffly, gently pushing me away. The color in his face had disappeared; and his blue eyes were filled with regret.

"No?" I decided to play dumb, as if I hadn't just embarrassed us both.

"No. You, me, us..."

Chris's eyes fell to the floor as he set his bowl on the coffee table. By the expression on his face, I had definitely crossed the line.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry. You probably don't even like me in that way. It's probably like frenching your sister, right? God, I'm really not thinking straight at all tonight."

"I led you on," he said as he shifted to look at me.

A few strands of his flawless blonde hair fell into his eyes, so he brushed them behind his ear.

"No, no, it's not your fault," I shrugged, setting my bowl next to his. "I've had a pretty traumatic evening…It was a moment of weakness on my part."

I bit my lower lip as I cast him a gaze out of the corner of my eye. Moment of weakness or not, I wanted to kiss him again. I knew he could feel my wanton desire. It was radiating off of me like rays from the midday sun.

Chris sighed as he stared at me. He leaned over and grabbed both of my hands. He brought them to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

"You are a terrific girl, quite incredible actually; but we can't do this, sweetheart…not right now."

Not now? Did that mean that he wanted to?

"When can we then?" I asked without hesitating…or thinking for that matter.

Chris looked at me, slightly surprised by my bluntness.

He smirked, grabbing my chin the way he had earlier and forcing me into look into those eyes of his.

"When I get there," he replied, "…and whenever you get a high school diploma."

I laughed.

"I might hold you to that."