"You have your pepper spray?" her father asked as they stood outside the door, waiting for it to be answered. She rolled her eyes.
"Dad, I'm NOT going to pepper spray someone who just talks to me." she smirked. "You're being dumb."
"You know, when you were little, you never talked back to me." he mumbled.
"Dad! That was like a hundred years ago!" Stephanie replied, letting out a groan.
"Try 8." he responded. Stephanie was about to comment, but the door finally swung open.
"Ahh, Mr. McMahon." the old man said, looking at him, then at her. "I see you have brought Stephanie, as well."
"She won't be a bother." he replied quickly. "RIGHT, Stephanie dear?"
"Yes Daddy." she smiled innocently.
"I wasn't worried about it." the old man replied, standing aside. "Please, come in. We've all been waiting for you."
"Thank you." he responded, leading her past him.
"Who's he?" she whispered to her father.
"Mr. Hart." he told her quickly as he closed the door.
"Ooh." she nodded. She had no clue who he was, but decided not to say anything.
"The room where we train is over here." he gestured to the door. "I have to get something.Please feel free to go down and start looking around." He left them standing there.
"He's sort of old." she commented when he had disappeared behind a corner. Vince looked down at her.
"Be good, Stephanie." he replied in a warning tone. She hushed and just numbly followed him through the door that was pointed out to them.
She heard the sounds of people wrestling the minute he opened the door. There was a staircase going down, and it blocked her view of the area below. It was soon revealed to her, however, when she followed him down the rickety wooden staircase.
It was a pretty neat looking place. Stephanie had seen dozens of them before, but she never saw a Canadian one. Even though it was basically the same as the rest of them, it was special just because of that single reason. She was glad this 'Mr. Hart' spoke English, because that meant the people who were wrestling did too. She knew a few places had a lot of French-Canadians, and she didn't think she could take hearing French all day.
"Just sit over there and don't cause trouble." her father commanded. She pouted, but he continued to gesture to a corner where no one was. She stamped over there, sitting in a vacant folding chair.
"I should have brought my tape player." she mumbled to herself. She should have known this would probably turn out to be boring. Her dad never let her do anything fun. She could take care of herself! She glanced at the people in the room.
She first noticed what seemed to be one of the elder of the group, an average built man with one of the mullet haircuts that were so popular at the time. He was shorter then most of the wrestlers she had seen, but he definitely seemed strong and scary to boot. She wouldn't want to mess with him. Her eyes continued to glance about the area, to all the generic wrestlers who all looked basically the same.
Her dad was talking to Mr. Hart again. He seemed to be showing him the wrestlers in the room. She let out a bored sigh. She put her feet up on a bag that looked like it held equipment. This was going to be awhile, she knew she should just get comfortable, maybe even take a long nap. If she got up her dad would probably kill her, so it was really no use.She surrendered to her father's wishes and just sat quietly, watching everyone blankly, basically spacing out. An hour passed slowly.
"Hey.." Stephanie blinked, quickly coming out of her daydream daze. She looked up and almost fell off her chair at the person that had suddenly just appeared by her. He smiled at her as she just stared numbly at him for a moment. "You all right?"
"Uh.." she stammered. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."
"Good. I have a question for you.." she couldn't help but notice how nice his smile was. And his eyes. Actually, he himself was pretty damn cute.
"What's that?" she asked nervously.
"Can you please let me get in my bag for a second?" he inquired. She blinked, not understanding. "All right, let me put it this way. Can I please see your leg rest for a second?"
She instantly blushed, quickly understanding. "O-oh! I'm sorry!" she quickly took her feet off of the bag. "I thought..I mean.."
"It's all right." he assured, kneeling by the bag, starting to rummage through it. "You're McMahon's daughter, right?" He questioned as he continued looking for what he was looking.
"Yes." she replied, beaming slightly.
"You look kind of bored." he chuckled slightly.
"My dad thinks I'm going to break something." she sighed. He let out another dry chuckle.
"This whole place is about breaking things. Particularily our bodies." he smirked.
"He also said I should pepper spray anyone I don't know if they talk to me." she replied matter-of-factly. The man looked up at her a moment.
"Well I don't want that to happen." he smiled again. "I'm Chris Jericho. There, we know each other."
"..True." she realized, then laughed. He suddenly pulled out some dark black tape from his bag.
"Here we go." he announced lightly. "Well, I guess it's back to work.Nice talking to you McMahon."
"It's Stephanie." she replied as he stood up. He glanced at her. "I don't want you to pepper spray me either."
"There's a handheld Paperboy game in my bag." he explained, turning away. "You're welcome to use it, Stephanie. Just put it back, it's all I have to do after training." She watched him walk away, and couldn't help but get a slightly wider grin.
"Chris Jericho, huh?" she asked herself outloud in a whisper. She silently made a vow to make her dad at least give him a little more attention.
"Dad, I'm NOT going to pepper spray someone who just talks to me." she smirked. "You're being dumb."
"You know, when you were little, you never talked back to me." he mumbled.
"Dad! That was like a hundred years ago!" Stephanie replied, letting out a groan.
"Try 8." he responded. Stephanie was about to comment, but the door finally swung open.
"Ahh, Mr. McMahon." the old man said, looking at him, then at her. "I see you have brought Stephanie, as well."
"She won't be a bother." he replied quickly. "RIGHT, Stephanie dear?"
"Yes Daddy." she smiled innocently.
"I wasn't worried about it." the old man replied, standing aside. "Please, come in. We've all been waiting for you."
"Thank you." he responded, leading her past him.
"Who's he?" she whispered to her father.
"Mr. Hart." he told her quickly as he closed the door.
"Ooh." she nodded. She had no clue who he was, but decided not to say anything.
"The room where we train is over here." he gestured to the door. "I have to get something.Please feel free to go down and start looking around." He left them standing there.
"He's sort of old." she commented when he had disappeared behind a corner. Vince looked down at her.
"Be good, Stephanie." he replied in a warning tone. She hushed and just numbly followed him through the door that was pointed out to them.
She heard the sounds of people wrestling the minute he opened the door. There was a staircase going down, and it blocked her view of the area below. It was soon revealed to her, however, when she followed him down the rickety wooden staircase.
It was a pretty neat looking place. Stephanie had seen dozens of them before, but she never saw a Canadian one. Even though it was basically the same as the rest of them, it was special just because of that single reason. She was glad this 'Mr. Hart' spoke English, because that meant the people who were wrestling did too. She knew a few places had a lot of French-Canadians, and she didn't think she could take hearing French all day.
"Just sit over there and don't cause trouble." her father commanded. She pouted, but he continued to gesture to a corner where no one was. She stamped over there, sitting in a vacant folding chair.
"I should have brought my tape player." she mumbled to herself. She should have known this would probably turn out to be boring. Her dad never let her do anything fun. She could take care of herself! She glanced at the people in the room.
She first noticed what seemed to be one of the elder of the group, an average built man with one of the mullet haircuts that were so popular at the time. He was shorter then most of the wrestlers she had seen, but he definitely seemed strong and scary to boot. She wouldn't want to mess with him. Her eyes continued to glance about the area, to all the generic wrestlers who all looked basically the same.
Her dad was talking to Mr. Hart again. He seemed to be showing him the wrestlers in the room. She let out a bored sigh. She put her feet up on a bag that looked like it held equipment. This was going to be awhile, she knew she should just get comfortable, maybe even take a long nap. If she got up her dad would probably kill her, so it was really no use.She surrendered to her father's wishes and just sat quietly, watching everyone blankly, basically spacing out. An hour passed slowly.
"Hey.." Stephanie blinked, quickly coming out of her daydream daze. She looked up and almost fell off her chair at the person that had suddenly just appeared by her. He smiled at her as she just stared numbly at him for a moment. "You all right?"
"Uh.." she stammered. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."
"Good. I have a question for you.." she couldn't help but notice how nice his smile was. And his eyes. Actually, he himself was pretty damn cute.
"What's that?" she asked nervously.
"Can you please let me get in my bag for a second?" he inquired. She blinked, not understanding. "All right, let me put it this way. Can I please see your leg rest for a second?"
She instantly blushed, quickly understanding. "O-oh! I'm sorry!" she quickly took her feet off of the bag. "I thought..I mean.."
"It's all right." he assured, kneeling by the bag, starting to rummage through it. "You're McMahon's daughter, right?" He questioned as he continued looking for what he was looking.
"Yes." she replied, beaming slightly.
"You look kind of bored." he chuckled slightly.
"My dad thinks I'm going to break something." she sighed. He let out another dry chuckle.
"This whole place is about breaking things. Particularily our bodies." he smirked.
"He also said I should pepper spray anyone I don't know if they talk to me." she replied matter-of-factly. The man looked up at her a moment.
"Well I don't want that to happen." he smiled again. "I'm Chris Jericho. There, we know each other."
"..True." she realized, then laughed. He suddenly pulled out some dark black tape from his bag.
"Here we go." he announced lightly. "Well, I guess it's back to work.Nice talking to you McMahon."
"It's Stephanie." she replied as he stood up. He glanced at her. "I don't want you to pepper spray me either."
"There's a handheld Paperboy game in my bag." he explained, turning away. "You're welcome to use it, Stephanie. Just put it back, it's all I have to do after training." She watched him walk away, and couldn't help but get a slightly wider grin.
"Chris Jericho, huh?" she asked herself outloud in a whisper. She silently made a vow to make her dad at least give him a little more attention.