TITLE: My Enemy's Enemy

AUTHOR: Bellerophon

EMAIL: bellerophon_666@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: WWF

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to.

DISTRIBUTION: Anyone can have this story as long as they ask first.

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: What could've happened during the whole Alliance debacle.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:This doesn't follow any particular time line, I've kinda taken artistic license and made a whole lot of stuff up. But hey, it's fiction so I'm allowed. It should become clear what's going on as the story progress's. Team Xtreme are still together, E&C have broken up, Jericho hasn't been the Undisputed Champion and the whole alliance thing is still going on. Make sense? Don't worry, I'm sure it will sooner or later. Thanks to everyone who offered to beta for me when I asked and also to those of you who have helped me with finding out a whole lot of stuff I didn't know. Also, apologies to Karen because I keep forgetting rules. I'll try not to break any this time.

CHAPTER 3

Christian sniggered as Rob tried to recover from the cushion shot Christian had lain on him. He was stumbling around tripping over things. It was total hilarity. Then all of a sudden, Rob fell flat on his ass and something skidded across the floor from beneath his feet. It moved too fast for Christian so as he turned his head, he lost balance and fell backwards. Through a table. A glass table.

Christian lay there, thoroughly stunned, with his legs entwined in the wire skeleton of the broken table. He stared blindly, watching the spinning room, and a spinning laughing Rob and a spinning Test……He shook his head and tried to stand up. He managed to make it off the ruined table and broken glass before collapsing, accompanied with moaning.

Test looked down at the back of Christian. "You're both idiots," he mumbled as he rolled his eyes at the drunken duo. Rob staggered up to him and patted him on the back. "Man, you're too uptight!" He grabbed Test's arm as he bent over the fallen blonde and retrieved the bottle he had tripped on. Rob offered the bottle to Test. "Come on, man. Relax! That's an order!" Rob shoved the bottle into Test's hands and picked up a nearby phone. "Room service?!" He slurred. "It's an emergency, okay? We have a fallen comrade, pizza is needed immediately!…..huh…..well, how am I supposed to know the number of the room?……no…...how can I look at the number on the door if I I'm inside and the door is outside?…..yeah…."

Test laughed as Rob tried to order pizza. He rolled the bottle of bourbon in his hands. Couldn't hurt, could it? He didn't have any matches on Raw the following night. They'd all been stressed lately and why the fuck shouldn't he get some time off? No reason, no goddamn reason at all. "Hey man," he waved at Rob. "Wha…?" Rob huffed and put his hand over the phone, "I don't think they wish to service this room!" He brought the phone back to his ear, "No! I do not wish to wait! I want pizza! My buddy is dying here! We canna hold on much longa, Cap'n!"

Test sniggered then snatched the phone from Rob and said quickly, "Room 431, five large supreme pizzas. AND a bottle of bourbon." He hung up and smirked at the dumbfounded Rob. "No point doing this half-assed. I say, if we're gonna drink, we're gonna drink!" He unscrewed the lid of the bottle of bourbon he held and chugged some down.

****************

Chris picked up the bottle of beer and returned to the table occupied by the Hardys and Lita. "Hey guys. Sorry it took awhile to get down her. I've got a billion dollar baby in my room." He uncapped his beer and swigged some down before continuing, "I even tried to be nice, you know, extend the holly branch or whatever."

"Olive," Matt said.

Chris looked at him like he was insane. "Uh, no thanks. Does it look like I'm drinking a martini?"

The others round the table burst out laughing. "What? Come on, what is it?" Chris pouted.

"You big girl, it's an olive branch, not a holly branch." Lita smirked and poked her tongue out at him. "So how did the generous and ever tactful Chris Jericho extend a 'holly' branch?"

"She was looking all pathetic and moody, so I just asked her if she wanted to come down for a drink." Chris frowned as he tried to think of a reason why Stephanie got all pissed off at him. "I honestly think she's insane. It's the only logical explanation. Who wouldn't want to be seen with me?" He thought about his words and pointed at Jeff, "Don't you say a thing."

Lita narrowed her eyes at him. "What were your exact words, Chris?"

"Well, I told her if she could stop herself from trying to maul every man in the room, I would allow her to join us for a drink. I really don't understand why she got so PMS-y." He shook his head. The other three shook their heads but for an entirely different reason.

"You are so blonde." Matt smirked at him. "I bet Stephanie is in your room right now plotting revenge."

"But all I did was…"

"All you did was insult a McMahon, Stephanie to be exact, with whom you have a rocky history, and then leave her alone in your room." Lita interrupted Chris. "I think you should check your bed before you go to sleep tonight. God knows what Stephanie would put in there."

"Scorpions….rattle snakes…herself…" Jeff sniggered. "Watch out, Chris. Maybe she'll go after you now Trip's seen the light."

Chris shuddered. "Don't even joke about that. I think I might have nightmares now. No, scratch that. I won't even be able to sleep, I'll just keep remembering that Stephanie is in the room and that she could attack at any moment."

Lita and Matt rolled their eyes and started whispering in each others ear. Jeff sighed, "Well, you can forget about them. I've seen this before. They're going to be all giggly and smoochy for the rest of the night. What a waste."

Chris looked the cosy couple over. Jeff was right. "Hey, Skittles, I'm gonna go to bed. I've got a match tomorrow night and I should probably sleep at least a little bit."

"See you tomorrow then. I think I'll stay here and see how many peanuts I can throw at Matt and Lita before they beat me up." Jeff pegged the first one, neither noticed the contact. Chris was about to leave when Jeff called out, "Hey Chris, don't let the Stephanie bite!"

Chris flipped him off and walked out of the hotel bar to the elevator. He got straight in an open one and pressed the button for his level. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and frowned. Stephanie wouldn't really do anything bad to him? True, he was a sexual machine and the animal attraction would drive any woman crazy but still….Chris shook his head and cleared any thoughts of Stephanie McMahon attacking him out of his head. With the strange direction the whole WWF/Alliance was going in, the last thing he needed was to be thinking about Stephanie McMahon. Especially in *that* kind of way. Blrrgh.

The doors opened as the elevator reached his floor and Chris stepped out, the frown on his face only deepening as he heard sounds coming from his room. It was right near the elevators so he could hear quite easily the odd noises emanating from his room. He swiped his key, cautiously opened the door and peeked around the corner.

************

"Stephy is such an unlucky person." Test slurred. Rob and Christian nodded their agreement. "I mean, what sort of person almost gets married to the 'Lord Of Darkness' in a black marriage against their will? What sort of person gets their next would-be marriage broken up because it turns out that the bride is already married?" Test accentuated his next words with vigorous shaking of the almost empty bottle in his hand. "An unlucky one!" He slumped down and reached for some pizza.

Christian, in the meantime, was regaining normal vision due to the fact that Test had held onto the bottles of bourbon all night. Copious drinking ruled, but only if he was the one doing the drinking. His back was aching and he was pretty sure he'd see some multi-colour pictures there the next morning. Christian stood and stretched, wincing as his back complained. Stupid table. He glanced at Rob, who was following asleep in what had to be an uncomfortable position, even with how flexible he was.

Christian walked slowly into the kitchen and poured some water into a glass. He drank it slowly, listening to Test rant in the other room. Poor dude, things had been pretty sucky for him too. What with Stephanie getting married to Hunter, things hadn't been good for him. Christian finished the water and walked into the kitchen.

He sat down next to Test, who had stopped raving and was now poking Rob with a shoe. "Dude, leave Rob alone. And put my shoe down."

Test frowned at him. "You're not the boss of me. Only one person is and it's not you."

"Oh yeah, well, one arm wrestle will determine the truth in that statement." Christian declared. There may have been a little alcohol left in his system.

Test laughed, "Oh its on now!" He pushed Rob off the chair he was half leaning on and set his arm down. "Let's go, crusty."

"Crusty!?" Christian glared at Test and clasped Test's hand in his. The arm wrestle was on. And over pretty quickly too. Test smirked, "You're my bitch now!"

Christian flipped off Test. Test laughed again and poked him on the shoulder. "You stand no chance against my brute strength."

"You are a total loser."

"Guess what this means. I'm the boss of you and Steph is the boss of me." Test reasoned with the logic of a drunk person. "Which means your Steph's bitch too." He was about to say more but was unable to due to the pillow Christian was smothering him with. Neither noticed the fact that their front door was slightly open and neither noticed the person standing behind the open door.

The mystery person stood back smirking. He had heard what he needed to. Closing the door quietly, he walked down the hallway to Hunter's room.

********

Chris swallowed his laughter as he entered his room. And it was really hard to do so. Who would've thought the great, superbitch Stephanie McMahon would cry when she watched Romeo + Juliet. Chris tried to remember if he brought a camera but then remembered Lita had stomped on it when Jeff had taken photos of her wearing a dress. Oh well. Hopefully Stephanie would remember this in the morning.

He walked over to the couch and leaned over right next to Stephanie. "So Stephy…" He would've gotten more out of his insult if Stephanie hadn't screamed and slapped him. "Oh, you bitch!" He gingerly touched his cheek. That really stung. "Jeez, Steph, do you think you could go without slapping me for at least one day!?"

She just ignored him and staggered over to a wicker basket on a nearby chair. Chris watched in confusion. Why the hell was she staggering? He got an answer as she dug through the basket, clinking noises following and then in a fit of whatever the hell Stephanie was feeling, she threw the basket to the ground. A lot of mini-glass bottles rolled onto the floor. Chris groaned, a sober Princess was bad enough.

He wiped his face and turned around to Stephanie. He raised an eyebrow at what she was doing now. She was sitting next to a pile of what looked to be dried flower petals. She was also picking up one at a time and crushing them, muttering under her breath. Chris approached her slowly, arms wide open. He'd heard that was the way to get near dangerous animals. "Stephanie, why don't you go to bed?" He suggested smoothly. Get her to sleep, get her out of his fabulous hair. "Hey, I'll even not insult you. Mainly because your drunk and you won't remember it, but still…"

Stephanie ignored him. Just kept on picking up petals and breaking them apart. Oh great, more tears. Does she realise she hasn't taken off that mud she calls make-up? Which was now smeared all over her pretty face. Pretty face? Since when did he think of Stephanie in those terms? He really needed some time to sleep. "Come on, Steph. Why don't you sleep it off? We'll get back to our hate-hate relationship in the morning when you're capable of actually speaking,"

Stephanie was now beginning to break into sobs. "He loves me," she managed to whimper out. "He said so, he did."

"Okay, whatever rocks your boat. Why don't you cry into your pillow like any normal girl." Chris was losing patience. Like he wanted to hear about Stephanie's unorthodox marriage to Hunter 'Triple Nose' Helmsley. Tomorrow night he was supposed to be in a match with RVD, who was his chief suspect as being Stephanie's insider in the Alliance. Not only would the match be incredibly difficult, with RVD's brawling hardcore style, but how in hell was Chris supposed to wrestle someone who he thought was a good guy? Chris cleared those thoughts from his head and returned to the difficulty of getting little Miss McMahon to go to bed and sleep off the effects of looked to about ten little bottles of straight alcohol. He could worry about his match in the morning. "Let's go, Stephanie. I hope you don't remember this…" Then Chris picked up the crying woman and carried her into his bedroom.

Stephanie had been so caught up in thinking of Hunter, she had basically ignored Jericho when he came in. How could Hunter did it her? She had stayed with him when he was injured, apart from time on the road. Hell, she had stayed married to him despite the way they had gotten married. Why did he just give it all up? What was wrong with her? Was he sick of her? In the back of her drunken mind, it registered that Jericho was in the room and talking to her, witnessing her cry, but right now she was too drunk and too emotional to care. In the morning she could be embarrassed, right now she didn't give a stuff.

Sniffing, she let him pick her up off the ground. Hunter never carried her anywhere. He always said he was too tired or his leg was aching. Stephanie hid her face against Jericho's shoulder, hiding her eyes in the material of his hockey jersey. She sniffled again, this time noticing the smell of Jericho's cologne. It was different from Hunter's cologne, muskier and spicier. She had never liked Hunter's, especially because he wore it so strongly but she did like Jericho's. It seemed wrong to like her long time rival's cologne when she couldn't stand her husband's. "You smell…" She paused, trying to place the scent, but Jericho took what she said the wrong way. "I smell? Just as well I don't have to carry you any further. I'd hate to offend your sensibilities." Then he dumped her on the bed.

"No, I didn't mean…" Stephanie pulled her legs out of the twisted position they fell in. "You smell…oh forget it." She might be drunk, but not in any world would he compliment Chris Jericho at the expense of her husband. Well, ex-husband.

"Fine. Go to sleep, Princess, and no trying to sleep with me if you have nightmares." Chris indicated his gorgeous body. "No touchy!"

"Screw you, Jericho," muttered Stephanie, already falling asleep.

"Not in this lifetime," he mumbled, grabbing some spare blankets and a pillow and piling them on the floor. He collapsed in the makeshift bed, preparing for a long night of uncomfortable sleep. And from the sounds of it, a long night of listening to Stephanie trying to cry quietly. He swore under his breath then stood up. He was pretty sure he had made Stephanie cry a few times and, quite frankly, he hadn't cared. But now…

Stephanie might have had a childhood with every possible Greenwhich luxury, but Chris thought she had a pretty shitty life. A crazy husband, a family that was always double-guessing each other, never trusting anyone, even close friends. It sounded sucky and Chris was glad he didn't have to live his life like that. And right now, it looked like that thought had caught up with Stephanie as well.

He fidgeted for a few seconds, unsure as to how to comfort her. Would Stephanie even accept his attempts, because it wasn't like he even cared for her at all. Mainly, he just felt sorry for her, and even he realised Stephanie McMahon would not appreciate that. He looked down on her, able to see from the moonlight shining in the huge window. She looked so slight and delicate at times, it was hard to see her as the uber-bitch she normally was. Sighing, Chris sat down on the side of the bed and reached over to run his hand down Stephanie's hair. She seemed to take comfort in the contact, turning over and reaching for his hand. She held onto it like it was her lifeline, sobs making her thin frame tremble. Chris prayed she was so drunk she wouldn't remember then gathered her in his arms and held her while she cried. "Stupid, bottom feeding, trash-bag ho," he mumbled, then closed his and allowed sleep to take him, Stephanie secure in his arms.

***************

Sorry, this is soo very late but unfortunately I've been having computer troubles.

SPOILER: Next chapter contains the shopping trip, not forgetting the aftermath of everyone's drinking spree. Will fireworks fly or fizzle? Could I sound more corny? Stay tuned and read more next week to find out.