Title: All Bets Are Off
Warnings: adult themes, some language, a few slashy references
Spoilers: None, can ya believe it?
Disclaimer: I own a dog called Jericho, but not the man himself (dammit all!). Trish Stratus, Chris Benoit and Chris Jericho are all trademarks of World Wrestling Entertainment. Only Angel is mine and I'm not sure she'd really want to be a trademark anyway.
Summary: Hmm, do I sense the beginnings of Jerichoholism?
A/N: This one's for Molly. Keep on writing, girl!!!
SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, MAY 13TH, 2001
Angel sat across from Benoit, attempting to eat her lunch. It wasn't easy to do one-handed and cutting her food was near impossible. Benoit was getting impatient. He'd finished long ago and was now glaring at her, as if that'd make her go faster.
"Can you hurry the hell up?" he snapped.
"Patience, Benoit," she replied with a little anger of her own. He could have offered to cut it up for her, not that she would have accepted the offer. And she was actually getting faster, although it didn't surprise her that he'd failed to notice that.
"Hi Angel! Hi Chris!"
Angel looked up and noticed that Trish Stratus was pulling up a chair.
"Hey Trish," she grinned. "Take a seat."
"Oh!" Trish cried, noticing Angel's plate. "You want help with that? I can do it for you."
"Thanks," Angel replied, giving Trish a relieved smile and handing over her plate. "That's really kind of you."
"No problem," Trish shrugged. "So, Chris. How are the gold medals? Are they behaving themselves?"
Benoit frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm just saying," Trish grinned. "If I was them, and in that position, I don't know if I could restrain myself."
Benoit got to his feet and glared over at Angel. "I'm going back to the hotel room…"
"You gotta watch your tapes, I know," Angel cut in. "Don't worry, I'll finish my food and come straight back."
Benoit nodded solemnly. "Good." Then he turned to leave.
"Bye Chris!" Trish called cheerfully.
"Don't pull too hard," Angel added. "Ya wanker."
Benoit stopped, but he didn't turn back. It didn't matter. Angel knew exactly what expression he had on his face at that moment. And that made her smile.
"Angel!" Trish hissed. "That's disgusting!"
"I know," Angel laughed. "He deserves it."
"Well, I am all done here," Trish told her, handing back the plate. "Now you can eat."
"Thanks," Angel smiled. "But while I do, why don't you fill me in on what you've been up to?"
"Okay," Trish replied. "I've been puzzling over something, actually. Maybe you can help me."
"Shoot," Angel told her.
"I think," Trish started. "That I'm going to try to get Chris Jericho to ask me out. Now, I know you said I shouldn't get involved with him, but I think he's a really sweet guy…"
"I don't have a problem with Chris Jericho," Angel told her.
"You don't? But last week…"
Angel smiled. "I know. Things change, Trish."
"Oh, you two are friends now?" Trish cried. "That's great!"
"Well, I'm not crying about it," Angel shrugged. "In fact, did you see that hot little blue top I was wearing on SmackDown? He got me that."
"He did? Wow, that was so sweet of him. Hey," Trish went on, forming a frown. "You don't want him for yourself, do you?"
"Jericho?" Angel cried. "No. We're just friends."
"Are you sure?" Trish asked. "Because if you do, it makes more sense for the two of you to be together. I'll step back, that's okay."
"No, it's fine," Angel assured her. "You can have him. I don't want him, I swear."
"Why not?' Trish pouted uneasily. "What's wrong with him?"
Angel laughed. "Nothing. He's just not my type."
Trish let out a little sigh. "Every man is my type. Okay, Angel, what's your type? Maybe I can help hook you up once I know that."
Angel smiled. "That's okay. You don't need to hook me up."
"Come on, Angel! Describe your perfect man."
"Okay," Angel said thoughtfully. "Let's see here. I like them tall, but not too tall. Somewhere between six foot and six three is perfect. Blondes are better than brunettes, although I do like my fellow Hispanics. Nice lips, soulful eyes. He's gotta be sporty with a semi-decent body, a cute butt and a good sense of humor. And I'm done."
Trish stared at her, dumbfounded. "And Chris Jericho's not your type how?"
"What?" Angel frowned.
"You just described Chris Jericho!" Trish cried.
Angel laughed. "No, I didn't."
"Sure you did. Six foot, blonde, good body, great ass, sense of humor. That's Chris!"
"Hmm," Angel mused, shrugged her shoulder. "I guess you're right. But don't worry, Trish. You can have him. I don't want him. We're just friends."
Trish gave her a bemused look. "Okay. If you say so."
"Go for it, Trish. In fact, I'll even help you hook him, if you want."
"You will?"
"Sure," Angel smiled. "I mean, you did help me cut up my food."
"Good afternoon, ladies."
Trish looked up and immediately went into flirt mode.
"Hi Chris," she said sexily.
"Hey champ," Angel grinned.
"Champ?" Jericho frowned. "That's a little gay, isn't it?"
"Well, if the shoe fits," Angel teased.
Jericho gave her a sarcastic smile. "You're funny. So, where's Benoit, baby?"
"Oh, you call him baby? How cute," Angel grinned. "He's upstairs watching Kurt Angle porn. You can go join him if you want."
Jericho made a face. "Nice. So, he actually let you off your leash, eh?"
"Yeah, me and Trish scared him off. Apparently he can't handle a little girl talk."
"Girl talk, huh?" Jericho mused, before leaning over the table. "Count me in. So, who's the hottest man around?"
"Actually, we were discussing who we think is in the closet," Angel told him, before staring over at Trish and emphatically pointing at Jericho.
"William Regal," Jericho nodded. "I mean, the guy's British. What more do you need?"
"Oh, so that's why you kept challenging him for a roll in the ring," Angel quipped.
Jericho turned to her. "You are a bitch."
Angel grinned back at him. "Yeah, I know. Sit, Jericho. Lavish us with your presence."
Jericho shrugged and sat in Benoit's seat, placing the carton he was carrying on the table. "If it's presents you want, that I can do."
Angel and Trish took a look in the carton.
"What's all that shit?" Angel frowned.
"Presents from the Jerichoholics. I'm taking them to the children's hospital."
"You what?" Angel asked. "You're giving it away?"
Jericho nodded seriously. "Every week."
"But people gave that to you!" Angel accused.
"Well, I can't keep it all," Jericho shrugged. "I might as well give it to some sick kids."
Angel reached over into the carton. "You got all this stuff in a week?"
"Well, there's a lot of Jerichoholics out there, baby."
"Yeah, God help the world," Angel muttered.
She pored through the contents of the carton. Stuffed animals, fake flowers, all kinds of junk that the kids would obviously love. Suddenly, she grabbed something and pulled it from the box.
"Oh my God, Jerky. You can't give this away. It's beautiful."
She held up the necklace – a leather rope and shiny stone pendant with some sort of symbol drawn on it.
"You like that?" Jericho asked. "Cute Native American girl gave me that after SmackDown. She said it's supposed to protect you from danger or something."
"It's a talisman?" Angel cried. "You can't throw away a talisman. It's bad luck."
"I don't believe in that crap," Jericho told her.
"Well, maybe you should," Angel told him seriously. "Some things you can't explain. It doesn't mean it's not true."
Jericho frowned at her. "You want the necklace, baby? You can have it. I was only gonna give it to some kid anyway."
Angel ran her hand over the pendant's smooth surface, then peered over at Jericho. "You said it protects you from danger?"
"That's what the girl told me."
"Then yeah, I want it."
"It's yours," Jericho announced. "You want anything, Trish?"
Trish shook her head. "No. I have enough junk as it is. Angel will understand, once the fans start giving her stuff."
"Yeah, she will," Jericho agreed. "Hey, you need help over there, baby?"
Angel was having a lot of trouble adjusting the length of leather rope, so Jericho reached over and gave her a hand.
"There you go. You're all set."
"Thanks," Angel nodded.
"Listen," Jericho started. "I better go. They're expecting me at the hospital."
Angel looked up at him. "You sure you don't want to go get Benoit to go with you? You could make it a date."
"No," Jericho shrugged. "By the sounds of things, he's found himself another man. Catch you later, baby," he grinned, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "See you, Trish."
"Bye Chris," Trish called after him, before leaning over the table. "Um, hello, do I exist at all?"
"What?" Angel frowned.
"The two of you were completely flirting," Trish went on.
Angel shook her head. "No, we weren't."
"Sure you were. All that teasing…"
"Not even. We always talk like that. It's fun."
"But you're not into him at all," Trish commented.
"Exactly."
"Right, Angel. He gave you a necklace."
"Yeah, that he was going to give away," Angel argued.
"Whatever, Angel. I'm gonna step back. You can have Chris."
"I don't want him, Trish. He's all yours."
"No, that's okay," Trish grinned. "I'll find someone else."
"Trish…" Angel sighed.
"No, Angel. I won't hear anymore on it. You and Chris totally want each other, so I'm not gonna get in the way of that."
"Whatever, Trish," Angel laughed.
"You're lucky, Angel. Chris Jericho is hot!"
Angel just shook her head and turned back to the last of her food.
* * * *
Chris Jericho hummed to himself as he made his way back to his room. The hospital was only a few blocks from the hotel and it was nice out, so he'd walked. He was glad he was in the position to do things like visiting the sick kids in hospital. Some of them really didn't have much to look forward to, so if he could bring a little joy into their lives just by being himself, well, that was tremendous.
He found his key and touched it to the door, but just that gentle pressure pushed it open a little.
"What the…?" Jericho cried, bursting into the room.
He expected to find that it had been ransacked, but it hadn't. Everything was exactly as he'd left it, or at least seemed to be.
"Maybe I left it open by mistake," he mused, looking around suspiciously. But he knew he would never have done that. Or maybe the maid had come by and forgotten to shut the door when she was done. Well, if that was the case, heads were gonna roll.
He couldn't find any evidence that someone had broken in. All his clothes were still in his suitcases and there was no real mess to speak of at all. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling in his gut that something wasn't right, so he slowly, systematically, began checking things, just to ease his mind. That's when his eyes fell on the Walkman and stack of tapes.
"Oh no," he cried. "Not my tape. Anything but that."
He leaped over to the Walkman and counted the tapes. All accounted for. Except the one he'd been playing. He opened the Walkman and peered inside. The Fozzy tape, the one of the jam sessions that he loved so much, was gone. He had one suspect. That's all he needed.
"Little bitch!" he screamed, racing for the door. "That tape had better be okay. Otherwise, that bitch is dead!"
* * * *
Benoit opened the door. Jericho was standing there, looking like he'd had one too many cups of coffee…and like that last cup of coffee had upended its contents in his groin. He was not a happy man.
"Where is she?" he demanded, nostrils flaring, eyes wild. "Where's Angel? Tell me so I can kick her ass."
Benoit stepped back and pointed to Angel's door. Jericho jumped over there and pounded the door with his fists.
"Angel! Get your ass out here before I break down the door! Open up! I mean it!"
"Okay, okay."
Angel opened the door.
"What is it, Jerky?" she asked, voice full of concern.
"Did you take my tape, you little slut?" he demanded. "My Fozzy tape. The one you hate. Where is it? You took it, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I took it," Angel frowned. "Wait there a minute."
"I knew it!" Jericho seethed. "I promise you, slut, if it's damaged at all, and I mean at all, I'm going to…"
"It's right here," Angel announced. "Here's your damn tape."
She thrust three tapes at him, shaking her head slowly.
"Three?" Jericho cried. "You made copies? What, are you gonna sell them on ebay or something? Sister, that's copyright infringement and…"
"Why would I sell your tape?" Angel snapped. "Who'd even buy it?"
Jericho blinked as he tried to figure it out.
"So, why the copies?" he asked, voice a little softer.
Angel sighed.
"This," she said, pointing. "Is your original. When you go home next, take it with you and put it in a safe place. This," she went on. "Is a copy. Play it all you like, until you wear the damn thing out. Then, when you do, take this last tape and make a copy of it. That way, you'll always have two and your original will always be safe."
Jericho frowned at her. "I don't get it."
"There's not much to get, Jerky. You have three tapes, one's your original…"
"No," Jericho cut in. "I get that part. But why did you do it?"
"What?" Angel asked. "Break into your room or steal your tape?"
"Why'd you make copies?" Jericho questioned. "I thought you hated my music."
"I do," Angel told him. "But you love it. I was just trying to do something nice for you."
Jericho gave her a skeptical frown and Angel scrunched up her face.
"Look, forget it. You have your tape back. Be happy." She started to close the door.
"Wait, Angel." She opened the door again. "I owe you an apology."
Angel shook her head. "No, you don't. You were right. I did steal your tape."
"True," Jericho mused. "But you stole it for good and not evil. I'm sorry for thinking the worst. Come here a minute."
Angel stepped out of the doorway and into a hug. After a while, Jericho drew back.
"You know it takes time to build trust, right?"
Angel nodded. "Yeah, I know. Just…it's be really nice if you gave me the benefit of the doubt from time to time."
"That's fair enough," Jericho nodded. "Well, I guess I'll go make sure you taped these properly, eh, baby? And this one…" He held up the original. "Is going home."
"See you later, Jericho," Angel smiled.
"I'll catch you tomorrow," Jericho replied. "Later, Benoit."
Angel watched him go, then noticed Benoit was staring at her, a scowl on his face.
"What?" she snapped irritably.
Benoit blinked slowly. "I know what you're doing and it's not going to work."
Angel sighed and rolled her eyes. "What, Benoit? What am I doing?"
Benoit just glared at her.
"No, really, Benoit. Tell me. Because I really don't know. What am I doing now?"
"It won't work," Benoit replied evenly. "He's too smart to fall for it."
Angel let out another exasperated sigh. "You think you can speak English?"
"All this kissing Jericho's ass," Benoit went on. "You're wasting your time. He's not going to fight for you, so you might as well give it up."
Angel cocked her head. "That's what you think this is?"
"We both know that's exactly what it is," Benoit challenged.
"Oh really?" Angel asked. "Ever thought I might actually want Jericho's friendship? That I like him?"
"You don't like anyone," Benoit scowled. "You just think you can charm him. You can't. He can't be bought."
Angel frowned at him for a moment, before her mind cleared. "Oh my God. You're scared! You are, look at you. You're shitting yourself because you know, if I did turn Jericho against you and get him to fight for me, you just might be beaten. All bets are off, right, Benoit? In your mind, it's you versus me for Jericho. If he chooses me, you're screwed. That terrifies you, doesn't it?"
Benoit's glare just became even darker, causing Angel's smirk to widen.
"Maybe that is what I have in mind," she told him. "But then again, maybe it's not. Maybe this time, just to be different, I'm only in it for friendship. But you can't take that chance, can you? You've got to worry about it. Because maybe your instincts are right. You're just gonna have to wait and see." She started to duck around the door to her room again, before turning back. "Watch out, Benoit. I just might surprise you yet."
***********************************************************************
A/N: Three chapters left in the 'R' version. Please keep reviewing, it makes my day to read them!!! *hugz everyone*
