A/N: Heyyy. So, um, the last time I updated this, Edge was on Smackdown and a face. So, that's why this plays out the way it does. I'm sorry. Actually, I'm not, DEAL WITH IT. Just kidding. I'm really not.

Okay, so I wasn't really back. I just needed something to say, something that would really punch him in the metaphorical stomach (or would it be a metaphorical punch?). Anyway, it didn't work, because all he really did was stare at me until someone yelled for them to get to gorilla.

I had to cut a promo with Sunny and Kaitlyn, so I dragged Adam with me to that even though he was going to get yelled at for not staying with John.

I really fucking loved all the boos I got when I came into frame.

Kaitlyn was talking to Jay, who actually acted, you know, intelligent and poignant on screen. He was just retarded in real life. She turned and played it off so well, the genuine surprise, and almost resentment for me leaving her so abruptly.

And then I tugged Sunny in, and no one knew what to expect, who this girl was, how she would play a roll.

And I really fucking loved all the boos she got once she opened her mouth.

She took her role like a fucking champ, especially for someone who had just gotten thrown into this big cataclysmic mess the way she had.

And when the cameras turned off, it was all back to normal.

Except there was John, looking furious.

"We have to go!"

"All right, all right, hold your horses." Adam started after him, but he paused, turning to me. "Wanna manage me?"

I looked at him. "Can I just… jump into this?"

"I don't see why not. You always walked down with me before."

"But I'm not working tonight."

"Call it whatever you want, you are."

"Yeah, but I'm not getting paid."

He just blinked at me.

I sighed. "All right. Will you pay me later?"

"Of course, darling."

I grimaced, taking his forearm as we walked down the hall. "Don't call me darling, you sound like Jericho."

I'm not gonna lie—I really did miss the rush. I miss going through those curtains and seeing the thousands of people that paid to see us. But they weren't really there, they were always like paintings to me. Just rows and rows of nameless faces, flashes going off and off and off, and then the rumble of cheers (or in my case, boos) (since Adam was the face) (Ew) that started at your feet and made its way up your body to your already pounding head.

God, how I missed it.

So after we did our usual touching each other inappropriately but not as bad as before because Vinnie Mac decided to go PG, I went and sat next to Todd while Jericho came out with Drew.

And then, like any other good match, it started off with Jericho falling through the ropes because he was too high to determine how far he had to lift his feet.

"So, MacKenzie. Why the sudden return?"

I just looked at Matt Striker. "I didn't return, Matt Striker. I came back tonight because the Women's Division is suffering. There's only so much Kaitlyn can handle. That's why I brought Sunny in. I know she'll help Kaitlyn keep these pathetic excuses for wrestlers in check until I return. And when I do... we're going to rule this company."

Matt blinked. "Uh... What do you think about tonight's tag team?"

I sniffed and watched the match unfold with him. Adam was still in the ring, and had been since it started. He was supposed to have tagged John in at least twice already. "I think it's ridiculous. John Morrison should not be breathing the same air as Edge. He's nothing but a weakness to the team. There's no one who matches Edge's strength, his drive, his need and desire to be on top."

"Really." Matt nodded slightly. "I always kinda thought John was the new Edge—"

"Are you serious, Matt Striker? No, no, no, no. Wrong. Wrong. There will never be another Edge. Edge doesn't need a protégé. When he retires, no one will be able to carry on his legacy. There are some things in life you just never mess with, Matt Striker, and Edge's accolades are one of them."

Can you tell my boyfriend is, like, totally Edge?

"But you're completely unbiased, right?"

"Of course."

Matt looked away again, at the ring. John was supposed to be in there—the match was almost over—but Adam was still tearing apart Drew. "Seems to be some tension between Morrison and Edge tonight."

"Edge is just mad because he's partnered with someone so… inferior."

"And he told you this?"

"Of course. We tell each other everything."

Matt tapped his hands against the desk. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you dated both—"

The slap echoed throughout the entire arena, and cut Matt Striker short.

We both turned toward the ring just as John swung through the ropes, leaving Adam dumbfounded and slacked against the corner turnbuckle.

I stood up. "That… parasite."

"Who, Jericho?"

"Not Jericho, I meant—"

And there was Adam, delivering an even more painful sounding palm to John's shoulder when he got bounced back over to him.

I smiled.

But then John grabbed Adam's forearm and swung him around.

The crowd was going wild, thinking this was all an act, a partnership turned sour. They couldn't even feel the tension I could feel, the kind deep in my stomach that could only be worse for Adam.

Don't do it... Don't do it...

Adam pushed John, hard, in the chest.

I cringed.

You could see Adam, his face, but I couldn't really tell if anyone else could read it like I could. He was half-frowning, half-smirking, and I could see it in his eyes, he was mocking John. Come on, hit me, do it, you know you want to.

And John, for all that I say about him, didn't do anything.

Until Adam pushed him again.

Then it was like an instinct. John pushed back harder, then Adam pushed him into the ropes, then John had his arm around Adam's neck, while Adam tried to punch him in the stomach.

And then they were on the floor, just tearing into each other.

I threw my headset off just as Matt said, "Déjà vu, anyone?" So I might've thrown it at his face for that comment, and headed to the ring.

I pulled myself up by the bottom rope, shimmying to where Adam and John were currently brawling. "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

All that did was push Adam harder.

I looked at Chris. "Do something!"

But he just smiled, holding onto the string so his stoned ass wouldn't fall off the fucking ledge. Drew was just watching, almost confused.

I rolled my eyes and started to get into the ring.

If you wanted something done around here, you always have to fucking do it yourself.

"Hey. Hey!" I grabbed Adam's shoulders, but he was so sweaty (being so fat and old) that I couldn't get a grip. So I finally just wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged. "Cut it out!"

"Ow, MacKenzie!"

John took this distraction as an opportunity to punch Adam in the face. But since Adam had turned to me to yell, John missed and socked me right in the fucking eye.

I fucking forgot how strong he was.

Adam's eyes just about turned red. "You just punched my fucking girlfriend!"

"I didn't mean to—"

Adam had him by the throat, shaking him. "I'll kill you, I swear to God!"

I was against the turnbuckle now, holding my eye that I couldn't see out of, and turned to see Jericho finally step up to the plate.

He told Drew to go in there and break it up.

You can always count on Chris.

So Drew did what he was told, and pulled Adam off John.

While Drew helped John up and out of the ring, Adam stayed with me in the corner, just absolutely fuming. The crowd was tittering, not loud anymore, not into this whole thing. They were just sitting there, waiting to see if this was a work.

And I hate to say this, but Striker was right.

I'm sure any of the older fans in the crowd turned to their neighbor and said, "I remember when this happened with Hardy..."

And I'm sure any of the younger fans said, "You mean Jeff?"

What a disgrace.

But anyhow, I touched Adam's chest, trying to stop his pacing. "Babe, please."

He finally looked at me, anger slowly melting away to concern. He touched my face lightly, just above my cheekbone. "Your fucking eye..."

"This should be the least of your worries."

"Why?"

"Because you need to worry about losing your fucking job."

"I've got good news and I've got bad news." Jericho closed the door behind him. "The good news is, you're not fired. The bad news is, your girlfriend's ugly now."

I glared at him with my one eye. "My shiner will go away. You'll always be ugly."

Jericho flapped his hand at me.

Adam grunted and spat another wad of blood into the sink next to him. "I can't believe he punched me in the fucking mouth."

"I can't believe he punched me in the fucking eye."

He glanced over at me, then, frowning. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up, it's not your fault."

"Yeah, it kinda is. If I hadn't—" He hissed when the trainer cleaned up the cut near his temple, and bared his teeth slightly. "If I hadn't moved…"

"He still would've hit me." I smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it. This isn't my first black eye and I guarantee it won't be the last."

Jericho threw his hands up. "Especially if we're going out tonight!"

I looked at him briefly, before I pulled at his trunks and dropped my melting ice pack into them. While he was (not) trying to get it out, I turned back to Adam and just watched him get cleaned up. For someone who took so much physical abuse, he was always a huge pussy about needles, stitches and disinfecting cuts.

I moved a little closer and held his hand.

He tried to smile, but the trainer swiped another antiseptic swab against the cut on his neck. "Ah, fuck."

"It's almost over, babe, just get through it."

Adam glared at the wall across from us. "John's such a fucking asshole."

Jericho doing the hula because of that ice pack in his pants distracted me slightly. "Why?"

"Why?"

I turned back to him. "Well... Babe, I mean… you wouldn't tag him in."

"What?"

"I'm not saying John was right in fucking attacking you like that, but… you weren't being very professional."

He just looked at me, mouth in a sneer. "Who's fucking side are you on?"

"Yours, babe. Always yours."

"Then fucking act like it." He stood up and dropped my hand.

"Babe—"

"Go check on John. I'm sure someone as professional as you can do that without your feelings getting in the way."

"Adam!"

He rolled his eyes and stalked out of the room.

I glanced at Jericho (his hands were in his pants now). "Did it seem like I was defending John?"

Jericho grunted, twitching slightly as he, er… adjusted. "Seams are for tailors—you were defending him."

I grimaced. "God, you really are gay, aren't you?"

"Of course he is!" Kaitlyn pushed open the door all the way, pulling Sunny into the room with her. "All right, so where to?"

I stood up. "Home."

Kaitlyn blocked my way. "Uh uh. No way, Jose. We always go out after a taping."

"But I'm tired, and Jericho's fondling himself over there—"

"No, I'm not." He lifted the ice pack. "I was just retrieving this. My penis just happened to get in the way—"

I lifted my hand to him, turning back to Kaitlyn. "Adam's mad at me and Jericho's into dudes, so I'm just gonna go home if that's all right with you guys."

"No. We have to take Sunny out for kicking so much fucking ass tonight."

"Can't we just buy a 40 and sit in the car?"

"MacKenzie!"

"All right, all right." I scrubbed at my face. "We'll go out. Where's Jay?"

"Last time I saw him, he was putting dye in Sunny's shampoo."

I glanced at her. "Tell Theodore that I told him this would happen."

Sunny shrugged. "That's okay, I'll just switch with his shampoo."

I smiled slightly, rubbing at my head. "Well, if I'm gonna go out and party like I'm your age, can we get going? Grandma's usually in bed by this time."

"You're not a grandma. You're a hot young thing going out with two other hot young things and a fat gay forty year old. Oh, and your hot Canadian lumberjack."

"Hey!" Chris put his hands on his hips. "I'm not forty yet."

Sunny looked at him. "What's that bulge in your pants?"

I looked, too. "You put it back?"

"It was warm. It feels nice."

I shook my head. "I'm too old for this."

"Nonsense!" Kaitlyn put her arms around our shoulders. "Let the night begin!"

A/N: I really couldn't figure out any other way to end it. So this is a nice segway for the next chapter that I also wrote about six months ago. Review. (I mean it. GODDAMN IT.)