Chapter 2: All I want for Christmas is My Missing
Tooth.
2 hours later:
A bloodied but very happy Benoit walked down the ramp into the airport waiting room. Rob Van Dam followed Chris Benoit - at a safe distance mind you, very safe. He was holding a tiny icepack to his lip that Stacy had lent him. Edge slowly walked down the ramp behind RVD, switching the ice pack that Amy had lent him, from one black eye to the other. Chris had already apologized for hitting him and RVD had gotten his from both Chris and himself, so thinking about that made Edge feel a little bit better.
Jeff stumbled, and almost fell down the ramp no thanks to Nora keeping him awake. If it wasn't for Trish, who grabbed his arm, he'd be rolling to a stop right about now, because of that barrier we call a wall.
"Thanks Trish," Jeff said thankfully, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes. "I owe you one."
"Better watch yourself," Benoit warned in a garbled tone of voice, "she'll take that literally."
Trish's face turned a beet red, "I will not!" Trish retorted. "Your welcome Jeff," she said shyly, unable to look him in the eye.
"Come on Jeff, you can't be associating with women of the street," Nora said disdainfully, looped her arm through Jeff's.
Trish looked up and gasped.
"Nora, that's Trish!" Jeff replied in shock.
"I know, I call'em as I see'em."
Jeff glared at his girlfriend, and looked apologetically back at Trish, "Are you sure you're not related to Stone Cold?"
Once they reached the hotel, Kurt was arguing with Triple H, threatening to dunk his head in a big bowl of milk if he didn't stop calling him a sissy and crybaby.
Up ahead Matt and Amy could still hear the bickering dorkheads.
In an effort to block out the noise Matt initatied a conversation between them.
"So, what's the surprise Amy?" Matt asked eagerly.
"Meet me in my hotel room in an hour," Amy said mysteriously.
*Ooh, goody, make out time,* Matt thought to himself gleefully.
One hour later, Matt knocked on her door, dressed in a halfway unbuttoned dress shirt, showing his manly chest hair and slacks, his own hair left long. He quickly finished chewing his spinach, *Dad wasn't fooling when he said spinach will put hair on your chest. Besides, it helps me keep my sexiness,* he thought to himself with a grin. Amy opened the door, dressed in worn blue jeans, faded t-shirt, covered by a plaid apron.
"What happened to you?" Matt asked, dumbfounded. Amy frowned, shaking the flour out of her hair.
"I've been baking," she said proudly.
*Oh geeze,* he cringed inwardly. *Everything she tries to cook ends up char-broiled.*
"Oh, interesting, what have you been baking?"
"Chocolate souffle. Want to come see? Just be very quiet, it gets flat very easily." Grabbing his hand, Amy dragged him into the kitchen. Matt leaned down to look at the souffle and poof, steam came rushing out and the souffle immediately went flat.
"Oh no," Amy wailed.
"It's okay, I'm sure it'll taste great, looks aren't everything," Matt said comfortingly, uneasily keeping one eye on Amy and the other on the souffle as if he thought it would come alive or something. As soon as they sat down Amy served up the souffle and anxiously waited for Matt to take a bite.
"You want me to go first?" Matt croaked.
"Of course, it's not going to kill you."
*That's what you say.*
He took a bite and crunch, crunch, crunch, it was very chocolatey but it tasted like he was munching on peanut brittle, not souffle.
"Um, it's definitely chocolately."
"So, you like it?" Amy asked excitedly. "Oh great!" She took a bite and as she chewed, and chewed, and chewed, Amy frowned. "Hmm, I think it's a little hard. Oh, well, there's always next time," she said with a shrug. Amy got and up dumped her plate in the sink.
*A little hard, always next time. NOOOOO! That does it, I will get her to take cooking classes. I will not become Chef Matt. By the time we're married, I'll make sure there is a Chefette Amy too. Okay, it's time to show off my sexiness.*
"Hey," he said, running a finger up and down her arm, "why don't we do something a little more productive?"
Tooth.
2 hours later:
A bloodied but very happy Benoit walked down the ramp into the airport waiting room. Rob Van Dam followed Chris Benoit - at a safe distance mind you, very safe. He was holding a tiny icepack to his lip that Stacy had lent him. Edge slowly walked down the ramp behind RVD, switching the ice pack that Amy had lent him, from one black eye to the other. Chris had already apologized for hitting him and RVD had gotten his from both Chris and himself, so thinking about that made Edge feel a little bit better.
Jeff stumbled, and almost fell down the ramp no thanks to Nora keeping him awake. If it wasn't for Trish, who grabbed his arm, he'd be rolling to a stop right about now, because of that barrier we call a wall.
"Thanks Trish," Jeff said thankfully, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes. "I owe you one."
"Better watch yourself," Benoit warned in a garbled tone of voice, "she'll take that literally."
Trish's face turned a beet red, "I will not!" Trish retorted. "Your welcome Jeff," she said shyly, unable to look him in the eye.
"Come on Jeff, you can't be associating with women of the street," Nora said disdainfully, looped her arm through Jeff's.
Trish looked up and gasped.
"Nora, that's Trish!" Jeff replied in shock.
"I know, I call'em as I see'em."
Jeff glared at his girlfriend, and looked apologetically back at Trish, "Are you sure you're not related to Stone Cold?"
Once they reached the hotel, Kurt was arguing with Triple H, threatening to dunk his head in a big bowl of milk if he didn't stop calling him a sissy and crybaby.
Up ahead Matt and Amy could still hear the bickering dorkheads.
In an effort to block out the noise Matt initatied a conversation between them.
"So, what's the surprise Amy?" Matt asked eagerly.
"Meet me in my hotel room in an hour," Amy said mysteriously.
*Ooh, goody, make out time,* Matt thought to himself gleefully.
One hour later, Matt knocked on her door, dressed in a halfway unbuttoned dress shirt, showing his manly chest hair and slacks, his own hair left long. He quickly finished chewing his spinach, *Dad wasn't fooling when he said spinach will put hair on your chest. Besides, it helps me keep my sexiness,* he thought to himself with a grin. Amy opened the door, dressed in worn blue jeans, faded t-shirt, covered by a plaid apron.
"What happened to you?" Matt asked, dumbfounded. Amy frowned, shaking the flour out of her hair.
"I've been baking," she said proudly.
*Oh geeze,* he cringed inwardly. *Everything she tries to cook ends up char-broiled.*
"Oh, interesting, what have you been baking?"
"Chocolate souffle. Want to come see? Just be very quiet, it gets flat very easily." Grabbing his hand, Amy dragged him into the kitchen. Matt leaned down to look at the souffle and poof, steam came rushing out and the souffle immediately went flat.
"Oh no," Amy wailed.
"It's okay, I'm sure it'll taste great, looks aren't everything," Matt said comfortingly, uneasily keeping one eye on Amy and the other on the souffle as if he thought it would come alive or something. As soon as they sat down Amy served up the souffle and anxiously waited for Matt to take a bite.
"You want me to go first?" Matt croaked.
"Of course, it's not going to kill you."
*That's what you say.*
He took a bite and crunch, crunch, crunch, it was very chocolatey but it tasted like he was munching on peanut brittle, not souffle.
"Um, it's definitely chocolately."
"So, you like it?" Amy asked excitedly. "Oh great!" She took a bite and as she chewed, and chewed, and chewed, Amy frowned. "Hmm, I think it's a little hard. Oh, well, there's always next time," she said with a shrug. Amy got and up dumped her plate in the sink.
*A little hard, always next time. NOOOOO! That does it, I will get her to take cooking classes. I will not become Chef Matt. By the time we're married, I'll make sure there is a Chefette Amy too. Okay, it's time to show off my sexiness.*
"Hey," he said, running a finger up and down her arm, "why don't we do something a little more productive?"