Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Howdy, dear readers. ;) This is an unexpected idea I got during Raw last night, when Trips and Steph made a bet about whether or not Ambrose and Cena would tear each other apart, after which The Authority reappeared on the ramp and Trips handed Steph a dollar for losing the bet. I have no clue why my weird mind cooked something like this up, but I almost immediately started writing it, while still watching Raw on the side, and this is what came out. So if you find it odd, I guess you can just blame me and my odd, mysterious mind. I hope you'll like it, love it, and want some more of it, but you can let me know either way. All opinions welcome.
Also, Jericho's new book has shipped to me from Amazon, and when I receive it in the mail, expect some radio silence for a little while, because every free chance I get, I'm going to be reading it. Anyways, please check out my story now. Happy reading!
Was there ever any doubt, when her phone buzzed against her ribcage, who was waiting on the opposite end of the line? In short, the answer was no. She plucked her phone out of her jacket pocket, screen lit and displaying his name. Chris. They shared a running joke that the reason his was the only name in her phone without an accompanying surname was because his importance spoke for itself. His nickname didn't require any further explanation, sort of like their decade-and-a-half long friendship. No more details needed.
A humored spark danced in her eyes, flickering like a candlelight, and her thumb hovered a quarter of an inch above the answer button. Before the words left his mouth, she knew what he was calling for. In between stage performances and bus rides to the next location on his itinerary, he had found time to watch Raw that evening, probably straight from the HD television his Fozzy tour bus came equipped with. That spoiled rotten bastard. Bringing the phone to her ear, Stephanie found a bare patch of wall and relaxed against it, pressing her back into the grimy, dirt-stained stucco. Thank goodness she was wearing black.
"Hey, sexy beast. What are you up to?" And that was a standard greeting from Stephanie, whenever he was calling. They had reached a point where Chris expected to hear that sort of speech, so she was proud to provide it. Even a seemingly happily married woman could have a little fun with her best buddy now and again.
"Yeah, enough of that. You know what I called for."
"What?" she asked, toying with him. Her fingers tangled themselves in a patch of her hair, but she released it all except for one tendril, twirling it around her index finger mockingly. Too bad Chris couldn't see her through the phone. "Time is money, and I've got another segment to film soon. Can't miss it."
"That cheap bastard. He seriously bet you a damn dollar? That's downright insulting."
"It was all just a part of the show."
"Yeah, right. He's such a cheapskate."
"He is not. He was only playing his part."
"Fuck him."
"Chris..." she warned.
"He never does anything nice for you. When was the last time he bought you something special or took you somewhere exquisite? Then, he has a bet with you on international television and has the nerve to hand you a dollar, as if you should be honored by that, like you're some twerking stripper on a pole?" Chris scoffed, and she could almost hear his scowl, if that were possible. Right about now his cheeks would be gaining a new burst of scarlet hue, and his fingers and toes would be curled and cut off from circulation, as he pressed his lips together until they nearly blended into one distorted lip.
"You're reading way too much into this," Stephanie replied. "That's our standard betting amount. It's a little inside joke between us, actually, if you must know."
His accusations were more humorous than maddening by this point, but some part of her still felt it her duty to respond. When her husband was being attacked, she owed it to act as his main line of defense, because that was what wives did for their husbands. Surely, Hunter would have done the same for her had the situation been reversed. Hunter. That was what she called him on the regular; the name Paul only came out of her mouth when they were arguing, which didn't occur all that often. Then again, the Libra influence in Stephanie made her generally agreeable by nature, which could have played a major hand in her calm disposition.
"Doesn't matter. He still doesn't fucking appreciate you. All he does is work, work, work. When does he ever come to you and say, like, 'Hey, baby, let's go out to a nice dinner. It's Friday night; let's take a nice boat ride.' Huh? When?" Chris pressed. He was walking a fine line, but before she could order him off, he overpowered their conversation again. "He should be spending every waking moment that he's not on television with you, but, no, he's running off to Florida for NXT, and the gym, and God knows what else."
"That's called having a life, Chris. He's allowed to have hobbies and outside projects, and, just so you know, my father personally asked him to take charge of NXT. It's not like Hunter took that on for the purpose of spending time away from me or something. He did it because he's close to my dad, and my dad really wanted him working his magic over there," she explained. Stephanie closed her eyes and fiddled with the bubblegum pink, ribbon pin attached to her jacket, her way of honoring the brave sufferers and survivors of breast cancer. "He's a really good guy, and there's so much good in both of you. I wish you two could see the good in each other."
"He's a jerkoff, but something tells me you already know that."
"Whatever, I'm hanging up."
"No!" he exclaimed. She smirked, having essentially given a wave of her magic wand in a matter of seconds. Whenever Chris became too critical of Hunter, which happened quite often, all she had to do was threaten to end their call and he would snap out of it. Chris valued his time with her, but he wasn't finished griping, so he changed his approach by insulting Hunter in a slightly more innocent manner — a tactic she was also plenty familiar with. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just watching the show tonight, and seeing him hand you that dollar was just...he's treating you like you're cheap, and you're not."
"He doesn't think that. He loves me, and you may not want to hear that, but he does. I love him very much, too. He's sweet and sexy and funny and charming, and I'm attracted to him in every way imaginable. You don't have to understand that, but, as my friend, it would be nice if you would accept it."
"Still can't believe he had the audacity to hand you that dollar," Chris grumbled. Even with both eyes shut, Stephanie still managed to roll them. Her love of Chris was immeasurable, but sometimes, she wished he would materialize in thin air, all so she could strangle him. "He doesn't appreciate you."
"The irony of this situation is that you aren't around much to see me anymore, either, Chris," Stephanie noted. His end of the line went silent, whether he was shocked or angered into quietness, but the break was welcome, because Stephanie would have a chance to speak her heart. "You're so focused on Hunter that you don't see you're almost exactly the same. Maybe that's why you and Hunter clash so much, because you're really two-of-a-kind. You're so much alike that it hurts, and neither of you seem to realize it."
"I'm nothing like that guy."
"You both have big hearts. You're fiercely protective of the people you hold dear, you have great insight to life and love, you're both hysterical and so much fun to be around, and you're both such talented men. I understand that you're not crazy about the decision I made to be with Hunter, but I do love him, and we're going to be together for a really long time, so you may as well accept it," Stephanie replied. A sharp whistle broke out to the left, and her eyes snapped open. She found Hunter at the opposite end of the hallway, waving her over so they could film their next scene. He wore a smile, but his eyes were tired and lined with worry, so she gave a wave to let him know she was on her way. "Look, I've gotta go, but we'll talk later."
"Wait, I want a bet."
"You what?"
"If you can have a little bet with him, you can have one with me, too."
"Oh, for the love of all that is holy, it was only a TV bet, Chris. It wasn't real, and we only picked a dollar as the amount because it's our own little thing," she said, breaking her sentences far enough apart that he would take notice of the emphasis. Now he was getting plain old ridiculous, or passionate, depending on how one viewed the situation. At least she knew he cared, and it was nice having Chris as her soft place to fall. "You're reading so much into one little segment, and there are no hidden meanings. It was just a spot the creative team wrote up for us."
"I still want a bet."
"What kind of a bet?"
"It's going to be for a hell of a lot more than one stinkin' dollar, that's for sure."
"Then what?" she asked. Hunter snapped his fingers from afar, and she flashed her pearly whites; her classic, apologetic smile. "Make it snappy. I've gotta head out."
"A thousand, just to start."
"Hm, a thousand-dollar bet. Okay," she said, lips easing into a smile. "What's the bet?"
"I bet a thousand dollars that you won't treat yourself to one night away from work by flying out to visit me."
"When?"
"Right now."
"Where are you?"
"NYC, baby!" he boasted. "Yeah, I've been here all morning, doing radio shows and such to promote my book, and I'm staying overnight. I actually just got my hotel room and tweeted a picture of my book in the bed, but you're following me on Twitter, so you should already know that. Anyway, yeah, I'm here and I'm chillin', and I'll have one grand waiting for you, if you show up to visit before midnight."
"Before midnight eastern time?"
"Yep."
"That's impossible, Chris. The show doesn't even end until eleven eastern time, and I'm not sure exactly how long a flight from here to NYC would be, but it's definitely more than an hour."
"So?"
"So your bet is impossible. I couldn't do it even if I wanted to."
"But if you wanted to do it badly enough, you could. There are other options to making this work, like, for instance, leaving the show early, or what have you," Chris pointed out. Stephanie could hardly think straight with the way Chris was hounding her, which was her point of focus in between casting anxious glances at Paul as he stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking at her as if she had lost her mind and had no plans in the works to go searching for it. "Besides, taking the bet is the best of both options."
"What do you mean both options?" she asked, finally pushing off the wall. Stephanie shuffled along like a child during their walk to school, trying their hardest to delay the inevitable, as she scooted along to her awaiting husband. Eventually, she would have to run along with him to finish what they had started, as she had a duty to uphold the role of The Authority to the best of her abilities, but Chris was intriguing in a way that wouldn't allow her to simply end the phone call. She had to know more. "You only gave one option."
"Yeah, well, there's more to the game, honeybuns."
"Seriously, I have to go. Goodnight."
"He's not such a good guy, y'know."
"Who's not?"
"That husband of yours."
"Enough, Chris."
"How would he feel if he knew you were screwing someone else on the side, Stephy babe? Huh?" he asked. "What would he do if he knew that, in focusing all his hatred on me, he's completely missed the other guy sneaking into bed with you at night?"
She froze, an ice cold dagger piercing the core of her heart. She had worked much too hard to have her secrets unraveled during an unceremonious phone call in the middle of Raw. Hadn't she performed well enough, played the role of devoted wife to the best of her abilities? She raved about Hunter in every public interview, forced herself to gaze at him in wonderment multiple times whenever caught on camera together, and her lies had still caught up with her. What had been the betraying factor? Did Chris simply know her too well?
Had her smiles been too phony, her many declarations of love too forced? Whatever it was, Chris had seen it, and if there was anyone who could see through her like a freshly washed window, she should have known it'd be him. Of course it was Chris. Now he planned to lord his findings over her head until she accepted his bet, or worse, until she failed to follow through with it, at which point he could spill her privacy to the masses. Chris was a close friend, and she hadn't expected him to bribe her under any circumstances, but then again, nothing in the world surprised her much anymore.
The human race could be plain evil sometimes, but she was thankful for not rushing into children with Hunter. A marriage was at stake, but that was still easier than having to look children in the eye and tell them she had betrayed their father, their own flesh and blood. Hunter left his post and stalked toward her, holding his right arm in the air and tapping the face of his watch. "This is ridiculous, Stephanie. You know what time we had to be over there to do the segment. Let's go."
Her mouth fell open, and she tried to respond, but a nasally squeak was all she could manage, having been bled dry of every other human emotion and response. Paul was drawing nearer, and she struggled to hear over the sound of her pounding heart. Chris decided to take the opportunity to rub more salt into her wound. "I know what you've done, Steph. You know why? Because you're not a mystery to me like you are to your own husband. I know you're not entirely happy with him, no matter how much you try to paint your relationship as this perfect fucking picture, but you have other prospects. There's me, there's your fuck buddy, and there's plenty of other men who could take care of you way better than Hunter does."
"W-what..." It was a struggle not to drop to her knees and begin sobbing. "W-what do you want from me? Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends."
"I'm doing this because we're friends. Either take the bet or accept a challenge, heartbreaker. You can leave the show early and get here by midnight to see me, or I'll issue you a challenge instead. Make your decision fast. The clock is ticking," he said. Hunter reached her and slipped a hand around her wrist, urging her with his eyes.
"I love you to death, babe, but you know we've got work to do. Is everything okay?" he questioned.
"It's fine."
"Then lose the cell. Come on," Hunter challenged, holding his free hand out for her phone, so he could take it hostage for the night. There were times when he knew not to cross his wife, during those rare occasions when she was in a mood of sorts, but on the flip side, she knew when not to ignore his requests. The sheer panic racking her body must have found a home in her eyes, because Hunter brought a hand to her cheek, and she slipped her hand over the top of his, basking in the warmth of his skin. She needed that.
"I-I have to go," Stephanie stammered to Chris, like a child being forced off the phone by her parents. She found herself waiting for Hunter to order her to the nearest desk so she could finish her homework before bedtime. She snapped right out of that daydream when Chris spoke again.
"Aren't you going to even ask what the challenge option is?" Chris taunted. Tears involuntarily sprang to her eyes. This wasn't the friend she had come to know over the course of 15 years. The Chris she knew would stop at nothing to protect her and wouldn't dream of using her deepest, most daunting secrets against her. Why was he trying to hurt her? It was a question that would replay in her mind and haunt her all night as she struggled to sleep. "Cat got your tongue?"
"What is it?" she asked, hands trembling so badly she nearly sent the phone crashing to the floor below. "Tell me."
"The challenge is to tell your little husband that you want time apart, a separation," Chris urged. She waited for the punchline, for him to begin laughing and say it was all a joke, but that moment never came. Their friendship had been a sham from the start, and she was hurt and stunned, and everything else in between. She sucked in a deep gust of stale air and blew it out slowly, all the while Hunter watching her closely, studying her every nuance. "So which is it? The bet or the challenge?"
"I don't...don't know," she hesitated, actually taking a few clumsy steps backward as she cast furtive glances at Hunter. "What if I choose neither?"
"If you opt out, I'll tell Hunter myself all about how you've been cheating on him."