It took him twenty minutes to find out that Vince was at a meeting downtown with some potential new advertisement executives.. That fact made Chris worry a little; how could he be at a meeting when his daughter was taken captive by insane brainwashed wrestlers. Who knew what they were doing to her. Chris tried not to think about it. It was too easy to have his imagination take over on that subject, and every time it just got him angrier.

But this posed another problem as well. He knew where the place was, but the thing was he had no ride. The night before, he was so out of it and upset that he had someone—he didn't even remember whom—drive him home. So now it was on to phase two of his plan, and that was to find a ride. He didn't want to bother the Hardyz and Lita again, especially after how he treated them.

He glanced around the lobby. There weren't too many people around, which was surprising because usually most were at least coming in and out. It was around one in the afternoon, after all. This meant even more hassle for Chris. There had to be someone around, there had to be. His wish came a few minutes later, and someone he particularly was hoping for didn't answer it. Still, glancing around, he saw no one else, and decided he had no other choice in the matter.

"Kurt, hey man—" he walked up to the Olympic winner, and Kurt nodded to him.

"Hey Chris." He responded in greeting. "How's it going?"

"I need a favor from you." He skipped the formalities quickly. "Please." Kurt looked at him, surprised.

"You're asking me for a favor?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Yeah, please. I need a car—you can even drive me if you want if you think I'm going to steal it—but I really need to get to Vince somehow, and no one's around. It's about Stephanie." He explained quickly.

"I don't know Chris, I'm sort of busy right now—" he trailed off.

"Every minute she's with them, she's in danger. Kurt, I care about her. Please, I'm only asking for an hour." He pleaded. Kurt looked at him, then sighed.

"All right. If it's about her, I'll help. But I'm driving." He finally gave in. Chris let out a breath of relief. Perfect. Now all he needed was to talk to Vince, and Vince would give him a plan. Yes, that's how it would be. He followed Kurt to his car.

"A Beetle? You rented a Beetle?!" Chris asked, his mouth dropping at the car Kurt was opening. "Kurt, it's YELLOW!"

"I like Beetles. Now get in or find another ride." He snorted. Of all the people in the entire world to find in the lobby, it had to be the guy that rides a girl car like a Beetle. Jesus, I should have known. He does prefer milk to beer, after all.

"Fine." Chris said. The things I do for a girl. He got in, and winced at the squished in area. He really hated being tall at points like these. "Let's roll."

"Buckle up first." Kurt responded. It was at that point Chris realized that this guy WAS as dumb as people made him out to be. He sighed and grudgingly put the seatbelt on.

"See? Look. All buckled up. Now let's go." Chris mumbled. Kurt look satisfied and pulled out of his parking space. After that, Chris didn't talk unless he was giving directions. Again, that didn't seem to go well with Kurt, who did seem to like to talk.

"You know, when I'm worried, I listen to music." He offered.

"That's nice." Chris replied, hoping he would notice that he really didn't sound like he cared. Kurt leaned forward and turned on his radio. Instantly Chris cringed.

"What the hell is this?" he asked as the oddly perky and happy music assailing his ears.

"O-Town." He nodded proudly. "My favorite band." Chris twitched.

"Kurt, I have a headache, I've had a bad two days, and if you don't shut that off right now I'm going to take your CD and break it into nice little pieces." He warned. Kurt quickly turned it off.

"Grumpy." He huffed. Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe this was some sort of horrible dream. Yes, and when he woke up, she would be next to him, and he wouldn't have to deal with Mr. MilkMan. Another length of silence came through, and then it broke when Kurt decided to talk again. "I'm worried about her too, you know."

"That's nice." Chris said in reply.

"No, really." Kurt nodded. "I'm just trying to get your mind off her for a while. I mean, you haven't thought of her once for a prolonged period of time since you got in this car, have you?"

"I—" Chris paused. Wow, he's right. I've been cursing my luck for getting stuck with him. "Maybe."

"I thought so." He gave Chris one of his wide goofy grins. Chris shook his head, trying not to smirk. "Well, here's the building." He pulled into a spot. "I'm coming with you, you know."

"Why?" Chris inquired.

"Vince likes me." He grinned. "And anyway, I'm the WCW champion. We're supposed to work together."

"Fine." Chris gave in. "But don't say a word, got it?" Kurt nodded.

The two entered the building. Instantly he saw the secretary at the desk and he walked to her, trailed by Kurt. The secretary looked a little nervous at their presence.

"Can I um—help you?" she asked.

"We need to talk to Vince." He replied.

"I'm sorry, Mr. McMahon is in a meeting—" she trailed off. Chris peered at her, then noticed her name tag.

"Ah, erm—Gina, is it? Yeah, well, tell Mr. McMahon it's about his fucking daughter who is in danger, all right? Can you do that for me?" Chris asked, then smiled sweetly.

"Y-yes sir." She responded, quickly pressing a few buttons.

"What is it?" Chris heard Vince ask in the speaker.

"Mr. McMahon, I apologize for bothering you, but there are two very built men here demanding to see you, something about your daughter—" she squeaked. There was a pause.

"Fine, let them up." He finally said. Gina nodded absently, standing.

"Follow me." She motioned to them, and they followed her. A few minutes later, Chris found himself standing in front of a very large door. "Mr. McMahon is here. Um—have a nice day."

"Thanks Gina." Chris responded, and watched her basically run away.

"I don't know why you wanna talk to him, Chris, but I have your back." Kurt informed. Chris nodded.

"I appreciate that." He responded. Chris opened the door; well, more like jerked it open. All the people in the room looked up at them. Chris pointed at the three men with Vince, then at the door. "You three, out."

"Chris Jericho how—" Vince stopped when he saw the three men meekly rushing out. Once everyone was out, Kurt closed the door and Chris made a beeline to his boss. Before Vince could cry out, Chris slammed him into the wall and lifted him. "Unhand me this instant!"

"You listen here you old bastard, and listen good. I should kick your ass right now for not even seeming to be remotely worried about your daughter, but I'm curbing my anger." He glared at him icily.

"Chris—"

"Don't talk." He commanded. Vince must have noticed the wild look in his eyes, because he actually did what he said. "I hate to admit this, but I need your head, Vince. You are the only one with the full power to get everyone to come together to get her back."

"And why should I help you?" he was still squirming, trying to get out.

"Besides the fact that if you don't I'm going to smash your face into the pretty ten thousand dollar meeting table?" he smirked. "It's also to save your DAUGHTER from being HURT."

"Why should I care?" he asked, glaring back at Chris.

"BECAUSE SHE'S YOUR FUCKING KID! What the hell is wrong with you?!" he finally let him go. Vince brushed off his suit.

"She didn't seem to be proud of that when she was in the Alliance—" he trailed off.

"Get a clue, boss, she isn't like that anymore!" Chris huffed. Kurt had been watching the whole thing, and he finally stepped in.

"She means a lot to all of us now." Kurt frowned. "You just haven't let yourself see that."

"I don't care." He responded, stubbornly. Chris, now feeling a little calmer, took a breath.

"You may not, but I do." Chris suddenly said. "And I know you don't believe me, but I love your daughter. If anything, help her because other people care about her." Vince looked at Chris in surprise. He paused, looking like he was thinking. He finally sighed.

"I don't understand you, Chris Jericho." He replied slowly. "How can you love her after what she's done to you? I didn't believe it before, because it just seemed so strange. But now I wonder—the tables are really turned. I should ask you—how could you know you can trust her?"

"Because I just do." Chris shrugged. "That's the best answer I could give you. And even if you don't trust her, you should at least let her have a second chance, huh?"

Vince looked from Chris to Kurt, then shook his head in resignation. "Fine. I'll call a meeting. That's all I'm promising you though, both of you. It's up to everyone if they want to help out in this little rescue mission." He paused. "And I'm personally putting you at fault if anything happens, Chris."

"I can deal with that." Chris nodded.

"Now get out of here. I have business to attend to." Vince straightened his suit out. Chris and Kurt both left without a single word.

This has to work. With all those heads put together, we'll have to think of something. At least Vince believes that I love her now—too bad he didn't believe it earlier when I actually could be happy about the fact.