In My Bed

Part 1 of Lovers TriAngle Series

A WWF Fanfiction by Sassy Lil Scorpio

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. All WWF characters mentioned in this fan fiction are not the author's. They are property of Titan Sports Inc.

Author's Notes: This story was inspired by the Triple H/Stephanie McMahon/Kurt Angle love triangle storyline that aired around 2000-2001 and the song "In My Bed" by Dru Hill.

Triple H paced back and forth in his dressing room. He sighed and stared at the door waiting for his wife, Stephanie, to come waltzing through. She didn't. He bit his lip and ran his hand through his dirty-blonde hair. For the last few weeks, he had a very sneaky suspicion that things weren't happening the way they should. Stephanie had been acting very strange.

He would talk to her and her attention would be diverted. She was physically there, but mentally, her mind was far away. Steph would arrive late to house shows. She didn't seem interested in him or anything. Triple H couldn't put his finger on it. Actually, he could. He just didn't want to believe it could happen.

Or was happening.

Ever since the day, the Olympic Hero had come to the World Wrestling Federation, he'd been getting under Triple H's skin. Kurt Angle. Bragging about his "three I's;" Intensity, integrity, and intelligence. Flaunting his gold God forsaken medals. Falling to his knees and pissing tears about his crappy accomplishments. No one cared that he had won stupid medals in the Olympic games of 1996 in Atlanta, Georgia for amateur wrestling.

One person really cared.

Stephanie cared. It was "Kurt this" and "Kurt that." Triple H didn't get it. Not only did he not get it, but also he hated it. Stephanie's fascination with the Olympic champion irked and infuriated Helmsley. There were times where it seemed like she loved Kurt Angle more than him. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Kurt was trying to get involved with his wife. They claimed to be friends and spent a lot of time together. Triple H didn't buy it for one minute. He didn't want to be the laughing stock of the entire men's locker room, if it were found out that Kurt was secretly screwing Stephanie on the side. Ignorant impotent idiot. I'll kill him with my bare hands if he is. Friggin' shove his damn medals down his throat. He wouldn't lose his cool until he knew for sure what was going on.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Triple H jumped and saw X-Pac, Road Dogg, and Billy Gunn walk in.

"Hunter, we've got something to tell you," Road Dogg started.

"Not now!" he snapped.

"It's your wife, man. You better keep her under lockdown…." he continued.

Triple H cursed under his breath.

"No, she's not."

"You're in denial, but your wife is doing things not so kosher with Angle. Everyone knows except you. You just want to live in your fantasy world that Steph is all about you."

Triple H slammed Billy Gunn into the wall for his smart remark.

"Don't ever come in here again telling me that crap."

Billy Gunn was angry, but he swallowed his pride. If Triple H didn't want to believe the truth, then that was his problem. No one could talk sense into him anyway. Road Dogg rushed to Billy to see if he was okay. Billy was muttering under his breath about Triple H's stupidity and that in the end, he would find out "the truth about his beloved wife." X-Pac opened the door and the New Age Outlaws stomped out.

"We tried to warn you, don't come back to us and say we didn't," Road Dogg called over his shoulder.

Triple H stood with his back turned. He faced the wall and closed his eyes to block out the voices that he heard.

"It's ten o'clock. Do you know where your wifey is?" X-Pac called to his friend. He closed the door in time as Helmsley swung around quickly to put the small wrestler in his place.

Steph, please tell me it's not true. You know I'd do anything for you.

Triple H leaned his head against the wall and silently prayed that what he was hearing were just nasty cutthroat rumors from his jealous colleagues in the men's locker room. He breathed slowly and his entire body trembled with boiling fury. He heard the door open and his wife's musical laughter filled the room. Followed by a smooth oily masculine voice. Helmsley inhaled sharply and didn't turn around.

"That was fun, Kurt. Thanks for showing me some of your moves. You should show Hunter. I'm sure he would love to learn some new moves from an incredible athlete such as yourself."

Triple H whipped around and saw Kurt holding his wife's hand. Big no-no.

His hazel eyes grew wide and he stepped towards the Olympic hero.

"Get. Out. Now." He pointed at the door.

"No need to get excited, Hunter. I was just demonstrating to your beautiful wife some new wrestling moves that I've been learning. Steph tried some too." Kurt's head bobbed up and down.

Triple H turned his blank stare to Stephanie. She smiled sweetly at her husband and let go of Kurt's hand. She snuggled up against him and felt Triple H's muscles tense up under his muscle shirt. He put his arm around her protectively. Kurt took the hint as he nodded and walked to the door.

"She's very flexible, you know. Can get into all kinds of positions."

Kurt's aquamarine eyes flashed.

Stephanie looked at him, uncertainly.

Triple H, who had relaxed when he saw his wife, looked up sharply.

"What did you say?" His voice had dropped to hoarse whisper. He looked from Kurt to Steph and from Steph to Kurt again. His hands clenched and unclenched into tight fists.

"She's very flexible. For wrestling positions and moves." Kurt emphasized as he slowly walked away from Triple H's deadly daggers. He waved to Stephanie before he left the locker room. Helmsley slammed the door behind him and locked it.

"I don't want you to see him anymore."

"What's gotten into you? Kurt and I are just friends."

"You know what I mean, when I say I don't want you to see him anymore."

"Nothing is going on between us. Why are you fussing over nothing?"

Stephanie sat down on the couch and stared at the ground. Helmsley turned to stare at her, but he had nothing to say. Kurt's eyes had a triumphant glint that pissed him off to no end. Can't lose my cool…I just hope that I'm wrong, Steph.

Triple H scooped his wife in his arms and kissed her sweetly. She drowned in his bliss and kissed him back. He squeezed her delicate body against his muscular frame. He wrapped his arms around her curves and had the uncanny sense that he wasn't really becoming one with his wife. Her movements were slow and mechanical. Like a robot. Triple H tried to ignore her halfhearted efforts to show him genuine affection. When he looked into her eyes, he didn't see their brilliant sparkle. He smelled her scent and caught a whiff of metal on her. Like gold medals. Triple H stepped back and pushed her away.

"Hunter—?"

Stephanie called after her husband, but Triple H had already left the locker room in a mad rush. He didn't answer as he stormed down the hallway. She sighed unhappily and walked back into the room to put their bags together.

Triple H heard her as he walked around the corner. Right now, he couldn't be near her. He couldn't be near her if his life depended on it. Someone was moving in and taking his place and he couldn't deny it. He stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts. He wouldn't allow this to happen. Hell no.

Triple H walked back to his dressing room.

He entered in slowly and watched her carefully. Stephanie looked up; her mascara ran down her face in muddy tears. She got up and hugged him. He hugged her back and he looked down at her trembling body. His grip was cold and unattached; he felt like he was hugging a dead log. Triple H couldn't answer her next questions.

"Everything's okay between you and I. We're still going strong. Things are still the same, right? Nothing has ever changed between us…"

I don't know, Steph. You tell me: are things still the same between us?

oOo

The next night was a Smackdown taping in the Nassau Coliseum on Long Island. Triple H didn't want to stay for the entire show backstage. When he was done with his match, he took a quick shower and dressed in his black sweats and shirt. He had told Stephanie earlier, that he would go back to the Marriott after his match with The Rock. As he left the Coliseum and walked across the way to the hotel, a queasy feeling forced its way into his heart. Stephanie met him at the doors and he was pleasantly surprised. Paranoia rained on his parade. He had thought she was still in the arena backstage watching the matches.

What was she doing back here?

She put her arms around him and smiled brightly at him. Steph asked about his match and if he had whipped The Rock's candy-ass.

He looked at her and noticed something weird about her. On the outside she appeared ecstatic to see him…but something wasn't quite right. Her movements were quick and jumpy. Her eyes darted and avoided his questioning look. She kept turning around as if expecting somebody to pop up out of the blue. Her forehead glistened of pre-sweat.

"How was the match?"

"He came out and—"

"Did you pedigree him?"

"Yeah, but the stupid refer—"

"Sounds like you had a great match. I'm sorry I didn't see it."

She smiled at him as if trying to convince him that she had really wanted to see his match, but had missed it for whatever unnamed reasons. Her smile was forced and contrived. The corners of her lips were unnaturally pinned up. Her eyes were cold white icebergs that Triple H couldn't break into. Once again, his fists balled up tightly with the fury and suspicion that wouldn't leave him alone.

Why weren't you there to see it?

He was dying to ask her this question, but he remained silent. They took the elevator to the fifth floor to go to their room. As they walked down the hallway in each other's arms, they passed by Kurt Angle. Stephanie grabbed her husband tightly for dear life. She waved hi to Kurt and he waved back. Triple H ignored him and kept on walking to their room. He wondered what Kurt was doing at the hotel…his match hadn't come up yet. Kurt Angle was the main event for the show in his match against Chris Jericho and he was at the Marriott…

Triple H decided not to dwell on it as he opened the door to his room.

Kurt Angle turned around once to stare longingly at Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. He shook his head and smiled deviously. He mouthed a message that Triple H would never hear: Oh, believe me, Stephanie and I are very good friends and she's very flexible. It's true, it's true…

In the room, Stephanie jumped on the bed and burrowed her way under the sheets. She tossed her clothes off and Triple H did likewise. He crept into the bed next to her. Before their passionate session, he reached over to the nightstand where he had put her first year anniversary gift.

"Close your eyes," he told her.

She did so and he slipped a sparkling gold bracelet adorned with rubies and diamonds onto her wrist. He attached the clasps together and sat back, admiring how his wife complemented the jewelry.

"It's beautiful." Tears choked her voice.

"I love you." He bit his lip as if trying to hold his emotions in and keep his words from spilling freely. He wished he could really feel the love between them, but he couldn't.

"I love you too, Hunter."

Triple H nodded and began showering kisses all over her body. His lips made love to all her erotic zones and his tongue caressed her spots. Stephanie wrapped her arms around his tight body and shivered with pleasure. Her fingernails traced lightly on his back. Her fingers molded his wide shoulders like potter's clay. He growled, fully aroused from their heavy petting. Her hands were soft as silk and his hands roamed. She threw back her head and pulled him into her. They began rocking slowly and then quicker. She murmured sweet sayings in his ear.

He was on cloud nine. His face leaned into hers and he breathed in deeply. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and basked in the warmth from his body. He cupped her face in his hands and poured kisses all over her. Time was on a jet plane and they ascended into the heavens together. For a short time, Triple H forgot his worries about what might be going on with his wife. Until he heard a name being called, a name that brought him down into the miserable pits of a depressing hell.

"…Kurt…"

Triple H stopped and slowly withdrew from her. He kept his eyes on her the whole time. Stephanie looked like an inmate caught escaping a maximum security prison. She looked around the room as if trying to escape his accusing gaze. Her eyes flew to the lamp on the dresser, down to the wall, and crash-landed at the white carpeting.

Her eyes met his.

He stared right through her. She wasn't on the bed and he wasn't there. It was all a dream. Or a nightmare. He didn't know anymore. Nor did he care. He chuckled and mumbled to himself as he put his clothes back on. He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He walked out again and brushed his hair roughly with quick, strong strokes. Stephanie watched him and opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Helmsley grabbed his hair and put it in a ponytail. He threw the brush against the wall. He opened the door when she began to talk to him.

"Hunter…I don't know…I'm sorry…it just came out…I swear…"

Finally, he turned to gaze at her. She shivered under his icy glare. She pulled the sheet over her and she was still cold. He made no move to go to the bed and hold her. She was going to say something else, but he held a finger to his lips. She closed her mouth; her lips were a flat line.

"I gave you everything. When that bleach blonde freak Jericho disrespected you, I beat his ass to a raw pulp and left him in a puddle of his own blood. I defended you when my friends didn't like you. Hell, they never trusted you to begin with. 'Once a McMahon, always a McMahon,' they'd say. I should have listened to them. But I trusted you and I was your fool. So I guess you have the last laugh. Someone's taking my place, huh Steph? I'm not good enough for you anymore, is that what the hell it is?"

Triple H punched the wall and left a bloody smear.

"No, it's not like that at all," she whispered.

Tears slipped off her face and wet the sheets.

"What the hell do I have to do? Go out and get gold medals like that ignorant ass?"

Triple H stood watching her. She cried silently. He didn't know what else to say. His heart was already broken and lay rotting dead in the heat of her betrayal. His eyes brimmed with tears and he blinked them away. Triple H opened the door and walked out, never to return.

I'm not coming back to this room, Stephanie. Remove the name "Helmsley" from your last name. It's over…