"On a scale of one to five, how sure are you that you want to do this?"

"Negative eight."

"Okay," Paul said slowly, even nodding his head. "I concur."

"Great."

"So...should I call every single one of them and cancel this? Or do you wanna do it?"

"Paul-"

"I'll do it."

"You're not doing anything," Steph said, not even glancing into the bedroom as she stayed in the adjoining bathroom, fixing her hair. "Other than getting into your shirt. Your nice shirt. And nice pants."

"I'm not wearing pants."

"You're wearing pants."

"I am not."

"Then what are you going to wear? Shorts?"

"Jeans."

"Paul-"

"I'm wearing jeans, woman. It's bad enough that I'm even doing this-"

"It's for your parents too, you know, that are you going to be there."

"Yeah," he grumbled right back, standing in the bedroom, over by the closet. "I know."

"I'm looking nice and respectable for them," she added.

"Didn't ask you to."

"And I didn't ask for your attitude."

"Well, I didn't ask to have this stupid dinner, so-"

"Paul, what is your problem?"

What was his problem? Her. Always her. It had always been her. Since he first got paired up with her for the show she'd been a problem. A welcomed one at times, but always a problem. The worst kind too; the type that didn't even realize they were a problem!

"My problem," he continued to carp, "is that this is dumb."

"Dumb. It's dumb for our parents to meet."

"Not just meet, Steph. To have a fucking dinner. It's-"

"Don't curse at me, Levesque. I'm not in the mood."

"-idiotic!" He was serious about that. "I don't care what your stupid family thinks about mine and you shouldn't care what mine think of yours. What are we? Twelve?"

"Okay, what twelve year olds are you spending time with? That you think they'd care about something like that?"

Ignoring that, he said, "I don't care if Vince likes my father. Do you care if Vince likes mine?"

"That's not the point."

"How is it not?"

"They'll all pretend to like one another no matter what. To our faces, anyways." Steph shook her head. "Maybe Vince won't, but he-"

"Stephanie-"

"The point is that you and I are very serious. Are we not, Paul?" That got some soft grumbles. Steph was not amused. "I said are we not, Paul?"

"We are," he griped right back. "You know we are. The most serious."

"Then our parents should get to know one another. If eventually..."

"Eventually what?"

"Paul-"

"Eventually," he complained, "what?"

"Just do this. Please? And it's too late to call and cancel anything anyways." She was closing the bathroom door then, to finish getting ready away from his watchful eyes. Through it, she called, "Your parents are already driving down, mine spent all that money on dinner-"

"Oh, great, your parents hired someone to make dinner?"

"You didn't think Vince McMahon was going to be cooking, did you?"

Hmmm. He was probably lucky he wasn't.

"Mom will make dessert anyways." The sink came on then and, over the sound of it, Steph said, "She likes baking."

Yeah, well Paul liked not having to eat over at his damn girlfriend's parents' house.

Was that too much to ask?

Yes. Apparently it was.

They picked up his parents from the hotel they were staying in. Steph had offered them a chance to stay with her while they were there (Paul was mostly living there, regardless of the fact he also had a house in New Hampshire still; Steph could claim to live there as well), but they'd declined, claiming that the two of them hardly ever got to be home; the last thing they wanted to do was impose on them when they were.

Paul was kind of actually glad that they stayed in the hotel. Not that he would have minded his parents staying with them. They were just better in a hotel. It wasn't so much that they would be imposing, as they feared, but rather...well...he was kind of banking on, if he were able to behave himself (that was a big if; Shane, Vince, and Linda all at once was a lot to juggle with or without his parents being around), Stephanie being rather, well, appreciative.

A lot appreciative.

Super appreciative.

Blow in the shower appreciative as his radio blasted from the other room.

Not to be specific or anything.

Or fucking down in the basement where her cries would echo.

But not to be specific.

Or-

"At least tuck in your shirt before we get to my parents' house."

Yeah. Never mind. Paul wasn't getting any of that. He was going to strangle Steph before they even arrived.

"You're so-"

"Do it," Steph told him through a smile she was already plastering over her scowl, even as they were standing in the hotel elevator, not even around his parents yet, "or I'll rip your face off."

His head recoiled in response, glancing down at his woman before, with a loud huff, beginning to tuck his shirt into his dark jeans (it was a compromise). "You're lucky I love you."

"Ditto."

Paul hadn't seen his parents in some time, so even though he was beyond pissed at the circumstances, getting to be around them was always welcomed. And, even though he was more than a bit peeved at the woman, showing off Steph was always a plus, to whoever would take a gander at her.

"Just some reference points," Paul whispered to his parents as they walked out of the hotel (though Steph was right next to him and could totally hear; he was most certainly putting on an act to get on his girlfriend's nerves, more than anything else; it was what he was best at). "Don't compliment Vince on anything. At all. Ever. He'll only take it as a sign that you're interested in him and only him and won't shut the hell up for the rest of the night. And you have to pretend to like whatever Linda makes for dessert; it won't be good, but hey, you know. And don't even get me started on Shane. A big one is, don't mention to him how much better I am than him at, literally, everything. He really seems to hate th- Dang, Steph. You can't really just hit someone, you know, in real life for no reason."

She'd slugged his shoulder quite forcefully. "There was a reason."

His mother thought this was cute for some reason (it wasn't; Paul rubbed at his arm in annoyance) while his father only shook his head at their antics.

Vince would have made them both duke it out, his daughter or not, if he were around.

And then had it out with Paul himself, if the man didn't let Steph win, and ridiculed him mercilessly if he had.

That was the man he was bringing his parents to meet. The family he was hoping (secretly, deep down, he was wanting it all to go okay) would impress his own.

What a mess.

Paul's little problem seemed to be a bit nervous, on the car ride over there. She drove, as it was her car, and his mother sat up front with her, them talking about basically nothing as he and his father sat in the back and discussed the important issues, like baseball.

Baseball was very important.

Still, Paul was pretty good at reading Steph's body language. For a woman that went out on television weekly to act out what was basically devolving into a soap opera with some pretty gory interludes, the bitch could not act.

Then again, maybe that was part of the gimmick.

She was all tense though, when she was driving and even more so when they arrived at the McMansion (it's what it was; everyone called it that...or at least Paul called it that). Pissed at her or not, Steph was still his and that meant that it was Paul's job to calm her down some. So before going to the door, he made sure to hold his hand out to her and let her fingers fall between his, leaving them locked as they led his parents up the long drive of the McMahons.

Vince answered the door, which was odd, as he did have a maid that typically did those things. Steph knew though that the man wanted to be the first to greet them, before his wife got a chance to. Vince was a showman and she had a very sinking feeling he was going to be showing out extra big that night.

For better or worse.

He had his stupid excited gestures about him too, where he acted a bit too hyped up for a grown (aging) man and he certainly shook Paul's father's hand far too hard, squeezing the life out of it, it seemed, though the man fought off a grimace.

But Vince was trying to exert his power or something over the other man because he was that way in all situations, he always wanted to be in control (even when they were in his damn house and he clearly held all the chips), no buts.

"Let's see," Vince greeted as he gripped the hell out of the other man's hand. "You must be Paul, Sr. Right? Ha! In most situations, I think we'd just call you big Paul, but, well..."

"I think you'll figure it out on your own, Dad," Steph said, moving then to put a hand on her father's arm and push him away from the other man before he broke her boyfriend's father's hand or something. "Really."

Paul, already, wasn't having a good time. As he stepped in behind his father into the foyer of the house, he patted the man on his shoulder. His father only wiggled his fingers a bit, making a face over at Vince.

So far, so horrible.

Linda was kind, at least, as were Shane and his wife. They met up with them in the formal living area, where Shane was examining the liquor cabinet, Marissa, his wife, was commenting on his interest in it, and Linda, much like Paul's own mother, actually seemed a bit nervous over the whole thing.

Shane's staring into his liquor cabinet at least got Vince off Paul Sr. for the moment as he went to go grumble at his son to get away from there. But he didn't get it; Shane knew, right off the bat, he was going to need some alcohol to get through the night.

High grain.

Everclear.

Honest.

"You have a very nice, home," Patricia, Paul's mother, told Linda after the two greeted one another, Marissa coming to shake hands as well. Her husband, who stood at her side, only shook his head.

"Yeah," the man grumbled. "It's very big."

"Elegant, he means," Paul's mother corrected her husband, frowning over at him. For all Paul was pretending he didn't care if his parents got along with Steph's, he knew that, honestly, his parents cared. A lot. "It's very spacious and-"

"It's big." Vince looked over at them again with a nod. "I made sure of that. The bigger the better!"

"You don't," Shane mumbled to his father as, giving up on the liquor, he went to shake the hands of Paul's parents well, "have to be so loud, Vince."

Oh, no, he did. He was amped up to the highest degree.

Steph was honestly afraid he'd start that bowlegged walk if they weren't careful.

"You guys should look around." Vince rubbed his hands together then. "At the place. You into gyms, not so big Paul? You should take a look at mine! It's great. Can't ever get your kid into it, but-"

"You," Paul grumbled, clapping his father on the shoulder and leading him off with Vince, "are the last person that I want to ever workout with, McMahon."

"You're son's a bit of a pansy, the way I see it," Vince was quick to grumble as he led them on. Steph almost went with them, but figured Paul could handle keeping their fathers from ripping one another apart; she got the much easier job of keeping their mothers on the same page.

It was much easier than she feared.

Linda seemed to really wish to make a good impression on her daughter's boyfriend's parents. She knew that it was important to Steph, that Paul was important to Steph, and was mature enough to turn off the television madness persona to get this accomplished.

She was most certainly Vince's direct opposite.

"I," Shane whispered as he leaned down, whispering in Steph's ear as he passed her and she sat on one couch with Patrica, opposite the one Linda and Marissa were on, "am going to check on Dad, huh? Make sure he hasn't challenged Paul or his father to see who can lift more."

"A pissing contest."

"He's so full of it, they'd be stupid to accept that one."

Dinner took another thirty minutes and in that, Linda was very good about holding conversation with Patrica. Very good. The only bad thing was that the guys never showed back up.

When they did, Paul's shirt was covered in sweat, Vince had changed clothes, and Shane could only shake his head in defeat.

Steph knew letting them go down to the gym had been a bad idea…

Paul Sr., a very serious man from what Steph knew, didn't seem as amused as his son and Vince both were with one another. They'd clearly had a good time, but the other man almost seemed rather annoyed.

"The boy thinks he's tough now," Vince grumbled as they came into the dining room, where the others had already been gathered by the maid. "Lifting so much. You happy, huh? Hunter? You barely out lifted an old man."

"I more than out lifted him," Paul said as the others, who were seated, only stared. Steph full on glared at him though, at the sight of his nice, green button up shirt soaked through with sweat. "I-"

"You had to do that tonight?" Steph couldn't help, but to gripe at him as the men fell into their chairs. Shane avoided his sister's eyes as he slunk into the one next to his wife, not wishing to acknowledge his failure. "I mean-"

"Calm down." Vince rolled his eyes as the maid came around, filling everyone's water glasses. "You wanted us all here to get along together, didn't you?"

Right. Because she really wanted Paul and Vince to bond more with one another. That had definitely been the plan for everything.

Sure.

"And bring me a beer," the man added, speaking then in a rather informal way to the maid as she passed. She was an older woman, Judith was, and very used to the man's rough edges. Linda only rolled her eyes though at his words. Especially when he added, "Straight from the can. I have some in the fridge."

Patrica glanced at her husband, Steph saw it, down the table, as the man only rolled his eye in response. There they were, in a fancy dining room, with a tablecloth and plates of the first course sat in front of them. Yet the man, who was hosting the dinner himself, was planning on drinking a can of beer along with his dinner.

"And one for everyone else," he added as Linda made a face. At it, Vince said, "Oh, right, none for Linda. Or Paul because he's a pansy."

"Or maybe it's why I can out lift you. Think of that, Vinny Mac?" Paul raised an arm to flex, but Steph, who was next to him, moved to grab her arm and tug it right back down. He was undeterred. "I ain't got nearly as much of a beer gut."

"Paul, honestly," Patrica complained with a slight frown, believing her son to be rude. Stephanie, though annoyed with the man, felt the need to cover for him.

"Trust me," the woman sighed at her boyfriend's mother. "This is them at their best."

Vince only snorted though before saying, "You'd wish to be this solid when you get to be my age."

"I try to avoid 'roids actually, Vince, but-"

"Please don't start him on that," Linda begged as Marissa choked, having been taking a sip of her water when Paul said that.

Vince, rather tired of jokes on the subject on all fronts, only snorted once more before saying, "You straight edge people really get under my skin."

"I ain't straight edge. I'm just intelligent." Lifting up his water glass after Judith had filled it, the man said, "My body's pure, Vince. It's something you don't know much about."

"Pure." Shane couldn't help it then as he coughed, just a bit, at the word. "That's what they call you in the locker room. Pure."

"You got something to say, Shane?" Paul's tone was light, but forcibly so. "Or just gonna mutter over there like you were in the gym?"

"I'm so sorry that I didn't feel like dead lifting weights before a nice dinner, in the only set of clothes I have here." Shane was able to meet the man's eyes without fail. "Didn't want to, uh, stink before dinner."

"I don't stink. Steph, do I stink?"

"Can we just not talk about this? Please?" Stephanie wasn't pleased with anyone then. Other than, as she found out then, her mother.

"Yes, let's all find another topic, hmm?" Linda glanced around the table, eyes lingering on their most important guests, Paul's parents, who were both reacting quite differently towards what was going on.

Paul's father seemed indifferent, frequently shaking his head at the antics of the McMahons (plus one because his son was acting quite similar) while Patrica only stared in shock at them. Her son had told her before that he was quite close to his girlfriend's family, once the dust settled over the whole secrecy thing, and certainly before with Vince, but to that extent…

"A-Actually," Marissa tried then, staring across the table at Paul Sr. "I don't think that I ever really heard what it is you do."

Which, while not an interesting topic, at least gave them something to do for a few minutes. Vince spent it drinking the beer (the two, actually; Judith knew the man quite well) as his son glared at his wife, annoyed that she'd launched Paul's father into such a boring story. Linda was pretending to be interested, along with Paul Sr.'s wife, while Paul himself was busy purposely rubbing his foot against Steph's under the table, just to annoy her.

He'd given up, long ago, on behaving for the night. It just wasn't going to happen. He'd already blown it. Might as well enjoy himself some.

"I mean," Paul's father was going on as the others kind of sort of listened, "we do well enough. Not this well, of course, but-"

"Paul," his wife started, but Vince only shook his head at her.

"We practically fell into what we have," Vince said in what, at first, kind of sounded humble and shocked most of the others. It was quickly remedied by the man adding, "Furthered, of course, by my excellent ideas."

"The most," Shane replied dryly, if not a bit bitter towards his father's treatment of his own ideas, "excellent."

"Does your son ever tell you about the business?'" Vince asked then, staring more at Patrica than her husband. "I mean, more than just how great I treat him and his character?"

"Is that what you do to me?" Paul glanced down the table at the man. "Vince?"

"I let you marry my daughter and pretend to control my company, didn't I?"

Paul sat back. He had him there.

"It's all he talks about, actually," the man's mother said to which Vince beamed and Steph elbowed her boyfriend, as if to tease him a bit. "Constantly. It's all he ever wanted to do, you know, and-"

"Mom," Paul griped a bit, under his breath, shifting uncomfortably as Steph and Shane both made ribbing faces at him, Marissa being kind enough to only giggle into her palm. "Seriously."

"What? He asked."

"It's always good," Linda said with a nod at her daughter's boyfriend, "to be invested in your work, Paul."

"Invested is definitely a word for it, sure." That time, Shane gave his sister a look too. "Not mine, of course, but-"

"It's an all consuming business, for sure," Vince went on, speaking right over his son. "But you have to want to be involved in it, give the days that you aren't out there in the ring to it. So many guys get pissed at me, as if I'm not giving them the breaks, when they can't be bothered to show up to meetings and don't offer to help on the creative team. Paul though, he's real good at offering help where it's need. Real committed."

That's why Paul didn't want to do the stupid dinner. Becaue he was common ground. The only common ground, really, between the two families. The McMahons knew him and, obviously, so did his parents. His parents, however, didn't know Steph well. Mostly just things that he told them about her.

Shane knew better, at least, than to make a comment on that word. Committed. It might have just gotten him slug, Paul was certain he knew. Time had passed since...but not nearly enough.

The main course was better, as a new topic sprang its head as Paul's father took note of, while everyone else's plate housed some potatoes and vegetables to go with their steaks, Vince legitimately just had two huge piece of beef.

"Storing up for the winter?" the man questioned his son's girlfriend's father to which Vince only laughed at him.

"It's a schedule." He stabbed at the big steak with a fork before sawing at it with his knife. "A diet."

"Got to get signed up on that."

"No," Linda said with evident disdain. "You really don't."

"I'll have Judith write it up for you," Vince said with a nod. "And a basic workout regimen to go along with it."

"Do what now?" Paul had been very intent on stomping on Steph's foot frequently under the table, either trying to get her to howl in pain or just to pay her back for making him attend that stupid dinner, but tuned in at those words. "Uh, Vince, I really don't think-"

"The way you're built," his girlfriend's father remarked, "you have to have the genetics for it somewhere. Either from him or your mother. Then again, the perfection in your body, it's probably both! Look at you. You-"

"Dad, it's really not appropriate to hit on Steph's boyfriend in front of her." Shane shook his head. "Or in front of his parents. Better yet, just never, preferably."

Stephanie rolled her eyes at her brother before saying, "Everyone should workout in some way, really. It's not just about bulking up. And Paul, I swear to God, if you step on my foot one more time-"

"Thank you for the offer, Vince," the man's father was saying as his girlfriend looked about ready to do that face ripping she was talking about before, "but I really don't think that's quite right for me."

"Suit yourself.." Vince glanced over at his daughter and her boyfriend. "Man just gets it from somewhere, is all I'm saying."

Right, because that's what Paul wanted right then, to be admired by that McMahon and detested by the other.

Perfect.

"Anyways," Linda said rather insistently, as if to get all of their attention. "Onto other things."

Most everyone had passed on the beers, other than Vince and Paul Sr., the women taking wine instead and Shane figuring if he couldn't go straight to blackout, it wasn't worth it, meaning that Steph was drinking perhaps a tad too much (she always did this when she was nervous; Paul figured he wouldn't be getting much of anything that night when they got home, appreciative girlfriend or not, other than a drunk woman that needed him to care for her). This led to her, of course, speaking perhaps a bit too loudly as she said her next words.

"Paul," she said, saying his name with conviction as the man in question only stared at her with questioning eyes, never rightly trusting the woman when she was drinking (she didn't, often, and it led to her revealing a lot when she did), "has been talking, like, a lot about selling his house recently."

Which was a really stupid thing to say. He about stomped on her foot for real, with some force about it, for saying that.

"What?" His mother frowned over at him then, truly. "Why?"

"What's wrong with your house?" his father asked. "Costing you too much?"

"No, it's not that," he said, coughing a bit into his hand while shooting his girlfriend a glare. "It's just...Steph's house is nicer and if we're going to really…live together then-"

"Always keep your own place," Vince told him with a shake of his head and a mouth full of meat. "Women are always itching to kick you out."

"Vince," his wife said with a frown but the man only gave her an apathetic shrug. It was the truth.

And knowing his daughter, one that Paul should live by.

"I didn't mean sell it, really," the man told them all, as if to quell their concerns. "Just...move all my stuff out. Most of my stuff. And stay down here full time."

Paul really hadn't wished to share that with his parents, not in that moment, much less Steph's parents, but apparently he had no choice. The last time he'd lived with a woman, actually fully lived with her, hadn't gone well and he was fearful what they would all think, if they'd consider it too soon or if Vince would see it as Paul encroaching even further into something he shouldn't be.

Apparently, he was about to find out.

"That's so cute, Steph," Shane teased with a face as Marissa giggled. "Playing house."

"She's been," Linda remarked with a roll of her eyes and a reach for her wine glass, "playing house. For quite awhile."

There. Steph was getting some heat too. Finally.

"It's really not that big of a deal," Stephanie muttered, not drunk enough to be oblivious to their ribbing. "Guys."

"How much thought have you actually given this? Paul?" His mother was less concerned with Steph living in sin and more with her son's mindset. "Not that there's anything wrong with you...doing it, but I know how you can just jump to decision-"

"I'm not jumping to anything. And I don't do that at all. I give everything I do lots of thought."

Which included Steph. Because he very much so did her. Does her. Will continue to do her.

Just to clear that up.

"And I'm not even really considering this that heavily," he added. "Steph's just...drunk."

"I am not." She glared at him for the accusation. It didn't help that her wine glass was empty, in one hand. "Jerk."

Yeah, he definitely wasn't getting rewarded for much that night.

"It's not just about how nice a house is, you know," his father told him then with a shake of his head. "You kids should consider making New Hampshire your home base instead of-"

"They're better off here." Vince glanced up at that. "With the WWE office being in Connecticut and all."

"New Hampshire isn't that far," Paul's mother said, looking to her son. "Honest."

"Yeah, I know," Paul said with a shrug. "But-"

"And you don't have to sell her house here," his father added. "You just have to-"

"We're really," Paul said as he shoved Steph's foot under the table, "not thinking about it that much. It doesn't even really matter; we're never home anyways. It was just a convenience thing. So don't even worry about it."

The silence then was as palpable as the awkwardness. The only one who seemed to be enjoying himself was Shane, glad to finally see his sister get some comeuppance of her own. She frequently bothered him about how his in-laws weren't particularly fond of him and, well, it wasn't quite the same at the moment, but it was certainly sweet enough for him to count it.

Why hadn't Paul just let them keep bragging on him? Why? Huh? Sure, it made him feel bashful and childish, but it was better than the gauche moment surrounding them in the moment.

"So how often do you guys actually watch the show?" Marissa, bless her, was trying to be helpful. Paul didn't know the woman too well (they were both outsiders, of course, to the McMahons, but also different forms of the inner circle in some ways), but was forever indebted to her then. "All the time? Or is too...silly for you?"

"Silly." Vince stabbed his stake. "She calls my show silly?"

"We watch," Paul's mother assured her. "When we get a chance."

"What's silly about anything I do? It's serious work." Vince was furiously slicing at his steak then. "Gave you a job there, you know. You think you'd have been the host of Livewire without me?"

Probably.

But whatever.

"You have to admit," Paul Sr. said with a shake of his head. "That the plots can be a bit...foolish at times."

"Foolish isn't a word, I would use, no." Vince stopped his cutting then to stare at the other man. "Creative, rather."

"Didn't we have a plot line where someone got pregnant, had a miscarriage after falling down some steps, and then forgave the guy who pushed her because he fought Mark Henry? Or something?" Steph wasn't too drunk, apparently. "Right? Daddy?"

"Creative." He was annoyed with all of them then. "And I need another beer, Judith!"

Of course.

"And really, Steph, aren't you the last person to be making comments anyways?" Shane gave her a look. "That's sort of part of your deal now, isn't it? Writing?"

"Yeah, because I'm actually trying to move up in the company unlike some people."

"But not nearly as quickly as some others, so-"

"I'm about done with you taking little shots at me," Paul spoke over Shane then. "So-"

"He's not talking about you." Steph kicked Paul under the table then, though she was giving her brother a dead gaze. "He means that he's doing better than me."

"Oh." Paul grinned then as Shane rolled his eyes. "Have at it then."

Steph made a face at him. "'Shut up, Paul."

Watching them from across the table, the man's mother only stared for a moment before speaking. When Paul had suggested to them (after a lot of Steph's prodding, of course, and nagging) that they come to the McMahon estate for dinner, she had a lot of expectations. She'd met Vince, once, before Paul and Steph were dating, when they went to a show. The man was...nearly as eccentric as his character he portrayed, she knew that, but to find that his entire family was...dysfunctional was actually...rather refreshing. She'd feared they'd be more stuck up than what they were showing themselves to be.

"I take it," she said slowly as her husband only frowned at his son, as if unimpressed with the way that he was behaving, "that this is how these...family dinners usually go?"

"Oh, no," Shane told her though he was still frowning over at Paul. "We're usually much less formal."

Steph was pretty pissed at all of them, honestly, and showed this by...drinking more. She asked them for one thing. One damn-

Well, a lot of things, actually. But showing themselves to be a nice, decent, normal family in front of Paul's parents had been the most important!

By the time dessert came around, she wasn't sure who she was more pissed at; them for ruining everything or herself for ever thinking that things would go as planned.

Vince had worked himself out of his funk by that point (his shows were not silly) and brought the topic of discussion back where he wanted it; on how Paul Sr. could benefit from a good workout regimen.

He was really big on fitness.

Steph was really big on drinking herself into a coma.

Paul had to drive them home that night, but he probably would have anyways. His mother sat up front with him again, as she was quite chatty, while his father sat in the back with Steph, on his cell for most of the ride, talking to someone about something at his work.

She only laid with her head against the window and tried hard not to focus too hard on all the ways to kill her family and get away with it still.

When they got to the hotel, Steph got out to tell them goodbye, but didn't go up to their room with them, like Paul did. Honestly, his mother told him he didn't even need to do that, but he wanted to, the man claimed.

Steph didn't though and waited in the car.

"What are you so sour about?" he asked when he returned about fifteen minutes later. She'd shifted to the passenger seat, but was in the same position as before, with her head up against the window and more of a scowl now on her face, given they were alone. "Princess?"

"Shut up, Paul."

"What?" He'd left the stereo off, with his parents in the car, but the first thing he did then was pop in one of his CDs. "I haven't done-"

"Why did you have to keep fighting with Shane the entire night?"

"What are you talking about? Shane and I didn't fight. We never fight!" Then he thought. "Say, there's someone I should have a match with. Write that in, huh, Ms. Creativity?"

"You're not being-"

"We were just messing around."

"Were you messing around when you went and worked out and got all sweaty?"

"In my defense, I took off my shirt to do it...I just started sweating again after I put it back on."

"And then Dad had to act like a maniac-"

"Vince acted like Vince, babe." He glanced over at her as they pulled away from the hotel. "If you were expecting something different, I'm going to get you checked for some sort of mental illness."

"I just," she griped, head still pressed to the window, "wanted this to be perfect."

"How was it not?"

"Paul-"

"My parents enjoyed themselves."

"They did not."

"They did so."

"Did not."

"You're drunk, Steph."

"And?"

"You clearly missed my mother and your mother trading phone numbers."

"As a courtesy."

"And my dad actually taking that stupid workout and eating regimen from Vince."

"Again, same thing."

"No, Steph, you don't get it. My father doesn't do stuff out of politeness. At all." He shook his head. "And Mom really liked Marissa for some reason, but I think she's just the easiest McMahon to get along with. 'cause she's only married to one. You blood ones are the complex ones."

"Shut up."

"Steph, on the way up to their room, all Mom could talk about was how great a time she had."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

'Then she was lying."

"Never."

"Paul-"

"What would you rather, babe?" He gave her another glance. "That they came to dinner and we were all perfect people-"

"Yes! It's what I asked for!"

"-or that we were real and they saw how we really were?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"My point, Steph, is that now you guys don't ever have to put on airs for them. They'd probably prefer that you didn't! My parents aren't...one of your dad's stupid rich friends that are gonna act all stuck up over dumb shit." He shrugged his shoulders. "We didn't pretend for you, when you first met my family. Hell, my sister and her husband were fighting when they showed up, remember? You didn't care, did you?"

"No, but-"

"Then they don't care about what your family was doing either. They would like them no matter what. Because I love you. And I'm with you. And this is the most real a relationship has ever been to me and they know that." He didn't glance at her that time. "If anything, they were probably more disappointed that I chose a drunk for a girlfriend."

He got a face made at him as well as a stuck out tongue. Then, "Dad's right. You straight edge people are annoying as hell."

"But can get people home safely."

"Well, everyone's good for something."

At home that night Steph only managed to slip off her dress and splash her face with some water before collapsing into bed in a heap. It was only about ten, but Paul joined her after a shower because, honestly, he was a bit beat too.

"Mmmm," she moaned when she found her head resting against his side, one arm lying across his waist. "Paul?"

"Wha'?"

"Did you parents really like my parents? Honestly?"

"Mmmm...Mom did. And Dad didn't hate them. He thought Vince was a bit of a show off-"

"He did try to break his hand."

"Vince is, like, part ape or something. He has to establish dominance."

She moaned again. "You could have let him out lift you, you know. Just this once. In front of company."

"Fuck that. The company was my dad. The hell I'd look like?"

Too gone for much else, she pressed a kiss to his side. "I love you."

He smiled, in the darkness, knowing she couldn't see what just hearing those words did to him. Patting her gently on the head, he whispered back, "I love you too. And next time? Maybe cool it on the alcohol around my parents. Can't let them think I'm bonin' a drunk, can I?"

"Shuddup."

"Yes, ma''am." One of his hands found its way to her cheek then, rubbing gently before falling to the side. "Whatever you say, Steph."

Wasn't particularly pleased with this one (it felt choppy to me), but it was a request and it wasn't going to get any better than this (plus I'm too lazy to rewrite it), so here it is anyways. Can't hit it out of the park everyday.

You guys have been so great at giving me requests and I have tons more to fill, but I'll always take more if you guys have them. Or just plain feedbacks cool too, but you know, whatever. And to the guy who copied that interview and sent it in a review, thanks. I'dda never seen that one any other way. Definite fodder from it.