Title: Anyone But You

Author: Kora

E-mail: or

Rating: Bumped her up to 'R', started to think it was too steamy.

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to WWE and all the people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Author's Note: I'm taking a bit of a break between writing the sequel to 'Drowning Slowly' (Shawn/Stephanie) and came up with this nifty idea. Molly Holly and Jericho, who knows what could happen, right? Anyway, hope you enjoy it! :P

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Chris Jericho was more than a little sore and more than a little pissed. He had had to suffer through another strenuous RAW and another crushing defeat. He had faced the Dudley Boys with his Tag Team partner, Christian and come up short.

He had missed landing a Lionsault, causing his whole body to ache, and he had once again had to deal with the audience's 'asshole' chants. It was enough to make a grown man crack. Instead he had trudged to the motel that had been reserved for the RAW superstars and picked up his key. Eager to get to bed and forget all about the night, his mind filled with visions of a nice cool ice pack to ease his sore tummy.

As he went to his room he wondered whom he had been paired up with. Bischoff had come up with a 'great' idea to tighten the budget by decreeing that all RAW superstars would be sharing rooms from now on.

He had also demoted everyone from hotels to motels. The place where they were currently staying would be more suited to traveling high school wrestlers as opposed to pros. Still, everyone kept their mouths shut, not wanting to piss off the man who signed their paychecks.

Jericho imagined he would be shacked up with Christian anyway, as Bischoff was the one who assigned the rooms and would most likely want to keep his tag team together.

He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

The moment he opened the door and saw who was sitting on the bed his mouth dropped open, utter shock and horror written on his face in an almost comical manner, "You?!"

This same word was echoed by none other than Molly Holly, who sat on the bed staring back at Jericho with the same startled expression. There was a short silence then Jericho charged into the room, slamming the door behind him as he jabbed a finger at her, "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Me? What about you! This is my room!"

"Oh no it ain't, Folly Molly, this is my room! Now, I don't know what you're doing here but you had best get your big butt up offa my bed and outta my face, right now! I'm in no mood to..."

"MY BIG BUTT!" Molly roared, her voice full of venom, "Have you been talking to that slut Trish Stratus! There is nothing wrong with my derrière thank you ever so much, Mr. King of the World and, for your own edification, I was here first so obviously I had a key to get in which proves this is my room! I was in here first so how about you hightail it out of my face!"

Jericho threw down his bags and charged over to Molly. She did her best not to back away as he loomed over her. His anger was palpable as he brought his face close to hers, his eyes burning, "Don't. Push me."

Still, she swallowed and met him head on, refusing to back down and look weak in this man's eyes, stating firmly, "No."

His eyes bored into hers, making her want to turn away or cringe but she refused to cower. Instead she drummed up her own anger and prayed that she looked somewhat formidable. Finally Jericho seemed to realized his intimidation wasn't coming off and he pulled away with a loud, frustrated grunt, "Fine! Let's call Bischoff. He's the one who set up the rooms."

"Fine." Molly replied primly, hoping Jericho didn't notice as she let out a sigh in relief. Her hands shaking from their close encounter. She rose to her feet and walked over to Jericho, who all ready had the phone in hand dialing in the number with such force that it seemed to bend under his touch. Once Bischoff picked up he heard an earful of first Jericho, then Molly, both wanting to know what in the world was going on.

Bischoff was overwhelmingly entertained.

"My, my, my," Bischoff muttered as he filtered through a few papers on his desk, grinning from ear to ear, "It looks like I made a mistake in the papers here. None of the rooms are supposed to be co-ed but due to a typo, Jericho, you and Molly seem to be sharing a room tonight. My deepest apologies to you both but it is just for one night after all and I'm sure you can find something to do. Have fun!" Bischoff burst into laughter as he hung up.

"Bischoff! BISCHOFF don't you hang up on me-" Jericho shouted but upon hearing the click on the other end cursed and slammed down the phone hard, shaking the table it rested on with full force, "Dammit! DAMMIT!"

"Do you mind not cursing in my presence? It's rude." Molly muttered.

Jericho rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked over at Molly with utter contempt, "Fine, Molly, I won't curse. I'll just tell you to suck it, how's that?"

She turned red and crossed her arms in a huff, "Well, I never..."

"No, I bet you haven't, Mary Virgin Mother of Christ." He bit out at her, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, "Where the hell is Christian?"

"Maybe he's sharing a room with Victoria. I mean if I'm with you..."

"God, I don't know who got the shorter end of the stick, him for being stuck with the psycho or me for being stuck with the prude."

"I'm not a prude! Why do people keep saying that!" Molly scowled.

"Because you are! You're Prudy McPrude, queen of the Prudes. If they had a Miss America Prude contest you'd win it! You're so stuck in the mud Mark Henry would have to have twenty legs to pull you out. You think you're some delicate white flowered thing when really you're-"

Molly faced Jericho, her arms still folded, "What am I Jericho? Enlighten me, 'cause when you're done I can fill you all in about Chris Jericho, the Ass Clown of the Universe!" Molly clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she had just cursed.

Jericho's eyes lit up, "Was that just a naughty word I heard slip out, Ms. Perfect? Am I getting under that goody-goody skin of yours?"

"You're a bad influence!"

"And proud of it," Jericho said with the kind of smile that could melt a girl and set her blood on fire at the same time. The latter was true for Molly as she shook her fists at him, her fury immeasurable, "You just made me angry is all! Easy for a cretin such as yourself to do. You like being a bully, don't you, Chris? Picking on others to make yourself feel better because you can't accept your own short comings!"

He became incessant when she used his first name and his smile turned to a sneer as he decided to drive the screws into her, "Look who's talking, Jolly Green Molly, the woman who's so jealous of Trish Stratus that it's..."

"ME! Jealous of that jezebel! In your dreams!"

"You can't even begin to wrap your mind around what I dream about, missy. If you did you'd have to go to confessional! Speaking of which, since we're sharing this room, how about later you try on that catholic schoolgirl outfit I know you have. I've always fantasized about..."

"SHUT UP!" Molly cried and shoved Jericho. This caused him to move back a few feet. Outraged at actually having been pushed around by a woman he charged forward to shove her back.

The force caused her to tumble and land back on the bed. They were both breathless from yelling at each other, their chests rising and falling as they panted. They looked at each other, the heated silence making them feel awkward. Molly was the first to turn her eyes away as she mumbled, "We should try to change rooms."

"Too late for that, princess. It's late. I don't feel like waking anybody up, do you? We have to get up in only a few hours anyway. Might as well make the best of this nightmare."

"You mean you're not going to throw a childish hissy fit and demand your self-absorbed way? What are you? Finally growing up?"

"Whatever." He muttered, shaking his head as he arranged his luggage, remarking over his shoulder, "I could say the same for you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you're immature and selfish."

"Oh please, I am the most mature and grown-up woman in the entire WWE. I'm at least intelligent enough to know I don't need to flaunt my skin for respect. I earn it through hard work. I'm talented, smart, and beautiful and I do it all without revealing clothing and lowering myself by participating in 'bra and panties' matches." Molly scoffed.

Jericho shook his head, "You know Molly, you're the biggest feminist nazi I know."

Molly blinked, her voice a dangerous whisper when she spoke, "Excuse me."

"Did I stutter? No! I said it perfectly loud and clear, you're a feminist nazi. Why don't you just drop the act and admit you're a big, fat lesbian! Bischoff would probably love you to death if you let him tape some HLA between you and Victoria."

"Just because I stand up for women and am a strong female wrestler, does not mean I am a lesbian! There is NOTHING wrong with having morals, Jericho. Though I imagine that would be hard for a man of your intelligence to grasp."

"Please," Jericho laughed dryly, "You know all you really need is a good, hard, head-smacking-the-head-board screw. I bet some sex would really loosen you up," he turned to her with another devilish grin, "If you're interested I suppose I could arrange for..."

"No thank you!" Molly gasped, her cheeks tinged pink and a hand to her chest, "You make me sick!"

"And horny?" Jericho teased.

Molly let out an indignant sound and grabbed her bags, "I'm going to get ready for bed! The quicker I get to sleep and get up tomorrow, the quicker I get away from you!"

She charged into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Jericho took some pleasure in ruffling her feathers. Still, he wished he could get out of this hellhole. The next time he saw Bischoff he swore to God that he was going to put that man in the Walls of Jericho until he screamed for mercy.

Molly was taking her sweet time in the bathroom so he decided to go ahead and get himself ready for bed as well. He decided to forgo the bag of ice, his shouting match with Molly having wiped the memory of the pain of his midsection from his mind. He opened one of his bags and riffled through it only to find some alcohol at the bottom. It had been for his and Christian's victory party versus the Dudley's but since that hadn't happened it was now virtually useless.

Or was it?

A very evil look overcame Jericho's face as he drew out a bottle of Rum. Now he didn't consider himself the kind of guy who was low enough to drug a girl and have his way with her but he could see himself as the kind of guy who slipped a girl a drink so she'd get drowsy, shut up, and taper off to sleep.

With that thought in mind he chuckled and tossed the drink in his hand. He quickly rushed out of the hotel room and returned from the soda machine with a couple of cold cokes. He poured one into a motel room plastic cup and mixed in some rum. The moment he was finished Molly stepped out.

She wore an thick white nightgown that ended at her ankles, Jericho laughed, "Well if it isn't Grandma. Guess that makes me the Big Bad Wolf. Now all we have to do is find Little Red Riding Hood and we can get this party started."

"Shut up, Jericho," Molly hissed and pulled back the sheets to crawl into bed, Jericho watched her with some amusement, "You know, I just realized that while that nightgown goes down to almost your toes, its sleeveless. Does this mean that next week we'll see your gasp belly button? You might just ruin your purity status if you keep this up. People will start talking."

Molly rolled her eyes, "They'll probably start talking anyway if they find out I had to spend a night with you. Now do you mind?"

Jericho looked around, "What?"

"I need to go to sleep."

"So?"

"So the lights are still on..."

"And they'll stay on, I need to go shower and get ready for bed myself."

Molly let out a frustrated snort and crossed her arms, "Great, just great! Hurry up will you? I'd like to go to bed some time this century and lord knows I can't do it with you making noises in the bathroom."

Jericho held up his hands, "Sorr-y. Jeez, how many friends do you have again? Oh that's right. One. Though I'm betting Victoria only likes you for your," he scanned her up and down with his eyes then winked at her, sending a message even she could get. She smirked, "Very funny, just hurry up."

Jericho headed over to the bathroom but paused when she called out, "If you like I can set up the floor for you."

Jericho turned around, "Pardon?"

"The floor. You're sleeping on the floor."

"WHAT?!"

"Well you don't expect me to share a bed with you, do you? You can sleep on the floor or in the bathtub, it really doesn't..."

"You've got to be kidding! There's no way I'm sleeping on the floor or in the friggin' bathtub! I get the bed!"

"Nuh-uh! There's only one bed and I'd expect you to be enough of a gentlemen to..."

"I am NO gentlemen and I'm not...look, forget it. We'll figure it out when I get out of the shower, why don't you," he grinned, an evil glint in his eye, "Take a sip of the coke I got for you and think about it."

Molly frowned and suddenly noticed the cup of coke on the nightstand, she pointed at it, "This is for me?"

He nodded. She looked at it with a frown, then back at him, he sighed, "Are you too pure for coke? Caffeine too much for you?"

"No! I drink coke! I drink it just fine!" she lied and took a big swig of it. In actuality she only drank fruit juice and water as she was very against caffeine but she'd be damned if she'd add more fuel to Jericho's continued taunts. She made a face as the flavor of the drink filled her mouth, "Is this how it's supposed to taste? It tastes funny."

"I thought you said you drink coke."

"I do! It's fine!" she cried and began to drink it down more greedily. Jericho grinned and stepped into the bathroom, pleased with himself. Knowing Molly, she had probably never had a drink in her life. Being a lightweight one cup ought to be enough to knock her down for the night. Once she was out like a light Jericho could easily sleep on the bed. Heck, maybe he'd even roll her to the floor.

He laughed giddily at this thought as he climbed into the shower. The water worked wonders on his body and his mood. He thought of Molly and shook his head. Why her of all the women on RAW?

If he had had to be forced into a co-ed motel room for the night he would have much rather dealt with Trish Stratus or Stacy Keibler. Someone it would be fun to spend a night, and a bed, with. He imagined what it would be like with one of them in this situation and found himself feeling very good. By the time he was ready for bed he was flowingly happy.

He exited and found Molly on the bed under the sheets. Her cheeks were tinged pink and to his surprise she was still awake. She turned her head to him, blinking a few times, "I don't know why but...I feel kinda wiggly."

"Really?" Jericho asked and avoided giving her a smart-ass smirk, a chuckle bubbling up inside him as her head lolled a little as she nodded, "Yeah."

"You still thirsty? Maybe another coke would make you feel better?" He asked, trying so hard not to laugh. She nodded and he made her another drink. And then another. And another.

Soon enough she had had about five big cups of rum coke in her and she was giggling like a little girl. He was thoroughly amused at her current state but also surprised she had had yet to be sick or fall asleep.

Instead she had patted the other side of the bed next to her, urging Jericho to sit down as they watched television and she finished her drinks. Jericho looked at her and commented softly, "We ought to get to bed."

"Wha?" she mumbled, her head had fallen back against the headboard, her glazed eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Bed. We should go to sleep."

"Wha-no, no, no, Chrissy! We need ta keep havin' fun!" she said with a sloppy grin, her head falling to rest on his shoulder, she nuzzled it for a moment or two, her face beginning to slowly roll down towards his lap, "Fun is fun."

Just when she was about to end up in his lap he propped her upright, "I know but it's late and you're tired. I guess," he sighed dramatically, "I'll just go ahead and settle myself down on the floor for the night."

"Oh no," she gasped, wide eyed, "You can't do that! You gotta stay wit' me in th' bed. It's cold outta it."

Jericho gave her a theatrical performance of shock, "But Molly, we'd be sharing a bed then! And you said..."

She waved a hand, "Ferget it. I was being silly. Silly! Paranoid. Paranoid! You can stay right here!" she patted his thigh in her enthusiasm and giggled, falling to rest against his shoulder again. She let out a sigh, "Ya know what I thought when you came in here tonight?"

"No. What?"

"I thought, 'oh god, anyone but you'. Did ya think that too?"

He nodded, being honest, "That's exactly what I thought."

"Mm, it wasn't too nice of me. I guess I kinda always have my hackles raised when it comes ta men, ta you, ta anybody."

He frowned and for the first time in a long time, Jericho asked a serious question with genuine concern and interest, "Why, Molly? I mean...why are you the way you are now? You used to be such a...such a sweet girl."

Molly pulled away and looked into his eyes, her own a mask of pain and confusion, "What did bein' a sweet girl get me, Chris? Huh? Spike Dudley? Hurricane? Maybe, yeah but...where did it get me? That's right. Nowhere. A big fat nowhere. I realized if I wanted ta make it in this business I had ta be like ever'body else. Mean an' nasty. I mean look what that got me! I was the Women's Champ! And I use the moral angle 'cause it works an' cause...," big fat tears filled her eyes and her head lowered as she whimpered, "I'm ugly."

Jericho swallowed and a new sensation took him. One that made him sick to his stomach.

Guilt.

Molly's tears fell on him as she cried, "I'm so ugly! Trish an' them are so pretty and can show off their bodies but I'm so fat and I have a big nose an'...an'," the rest was cut off with wrenching whiny sounds and Jericho rolled his eyes, he lifted her chin up and looked into her eyes; "Molly, look, you're...you're not ugly, all right?"

"Yes I am." She moaned.

"No, you're not. Molly, you're very pretty, okay? Otherwise why would Spike and Hurricane have wanted you, right? You're a lovely girl. A bit freaky about being all clothed and moral and all but you've got a nice face and a curvy body that guys like and...you're fine, okay? Don't get all weepy on me, please?"

She looked up at him, her bottom lip wobbling. He bit back a curse as she whispered, "You mean it?"

He frowned and scratched the back of his head, embarrassed as he admitted, "Yeah, yeah, I mean it. Now will you please stop crying? You're making me feel like a jerk. It's a new feeling and I don't like it."

"It's always about you, isn't it," she laughed weakly and wiped at her eyes, "If I'm gonna bare my feelings ya gotta do it to."

Jericho looked at her as if she was crazy, "What?"

"Come on, why are you the way you are? I mean, you said it yourself, I used to be such a sweet girl. What 'bout you? You used to be such a gentlemen."

"I don't think I was ever a gentlemen, Molly. But if you mean why am I the way I am now, I don't know. Personally I think I've improved! I mean, I am the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla and I am the King of the World. There's not a thing wrong with me!" Jericho proclaimed proudly.

"'Cept everyone hates you," Molly mumbled.

Jericho blinked at her words, then crossed his arms as a crease developed on his forehead, "Yeah? Well screw 'em. I don't need to impress anybody but myself."

She sighed, "Yeah, I say that too. You an' I actually have a lot in common."

Jericho frowned at that and shifted on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable, "Yeah. Uh, look, how about we go to bed."

"'Kay." She whispered and rolled away from him to lay down on the bed. Jericho let out a breath of relief and clicked off he lights, plunging the room in darkness. He frowned as he rested there.

For some reason the idea of sharing a room with Molly when he had first entered the motel room had infuriated him simply because he didn't want to share anything with her. He had never even really given any thought to the sleeping arrangement until she had brought it up and now as they lay together he realized why she had made a big deal about it.

He was starting to think the floor would have been better for him as opposed to being on a tiny bed with her. It had been a while since he had been in bed with a woman and the experience was strange to say the least. He had his back to her but he could feel her heat, her presence. He knew where the bed dipped under her weight and the scent of her shampoo kept drifting over to him with each intake of his breath.

He wanted to wait until she was asleep and move her but knew he couldn't. That strange feeling of guilt was still in his system even though he was trying his hardest to purge it. All he could think of was how he drugged her drink and made her say things that, without being under the influence, she would have never said. Personal things.

It made him stand back and look at himself and he didn't like what he saw. What kind of guy was he to have done that to her? In the past he would have beat the tar out of someone who pulled some trick like that. Now he was the one pulling the trick.

He frowned when he felt a tentative tap on his shoulder. He thought to ignore it but he felt it again, this time it was more sure of itself. He rolled over, his eyes meeting with Molly's, "What?"

She let out a shaky breath, "Did I ever tell you...that I think you're very handsome?"

Jericho opened his mouth to speak but didn't get the chance before Molly slid forward and kissed him. Jericho let out a startled sound, which ended quickly as her tongue plunged in, searching the roof of his mouth. He let out a confused groan that rumbled up his chest as her fingers brushed across his face and up to his hair, tangling into the golden mane there. She pulled his body against hers, rolling herself beneath him as she continued the gentle kiss.

Jericho couldn't even believe she knew how to kiss, much less this good, as she continued to search his mouth. Her body slowly rubbing against his sensuously. Another sound rumbled out of him as he wrapped his arms around her, taking control of the kiss.

His eyes slid shut as his own tongue met hers, the taste of rum and simply Molly herself, amazingly intoxicating to his senses. She let out a little purring sound, her hips thrusting up against his.

Jericho's eyes, if they had been open, would have rolled back into his head at that. She continued to kiss him, pulling away only momentarily to whisper in a soft breath, "Your kisses make me dizzy."

"I could say the same," he grunted as his mouth descended down upon hers again. He didn't want to break the contact, didn't want to stop searching her mouth with his own. His body felt like it was on fire. It was as if he had been celibate for years. This, of course, was exactly how Molly felt as her fingers left his hair to claw down his back and his arms then back up to tangle in his hair again.

Jericho couldn't keep his own hands from traveling over her body either. His fingers trailed over the cool bare skin of her arms to go up and brush her face tenderly. She let out a few pleased mewls and he found himself smiling as his hand went to her breast, squeezing it through the cloth of her nightgown.

Molly's mouth left his as her head fell back and she moaned aloud in pleasure, the sound inflaming his blood. She pushed herself up into his touch so willingly he felt like he'd lose his mind. God, who knew she'd be so responsive?

His palm brushed her full breast, squeezing and caressing until he felt her nipple rise up hard against the center of his hand. He teased the tiny bud, brushing it between his fingers. It was as if the cloth wasn't even there. Suddenly the nightgown that had earlier been so amusing was the strangest turn on as he continued to touch her. Her mouth went to his earlobe, licking and tugging it into her mouth. He moaned openly, "Jesus, Molly...."

"Chris, please...I want you to..." she whispered and suddenly something in Jericho snapped at the sound of his name.

He disentangled himself from her, "I can't do this."

"What?" she breathed, "Why?"

"Because..." Jericho ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his breath back, "Because..."

"Am I not pretty enough?" she asked softly.

"God no, Jesus," he muttered, suddenly furious, "It's not that! Okay! You're perfect! I just...it's me! I can't do this. I can do some pretty low down things but this is just too much. Even for me! Molly, you don't know what you're doing, you're...you had too much to drink."

"It was just coke..."

"No," he groaned as he pulled away from her and got to his feet unsteadily, "No, it wasn't."

He grabbed his pillow and a blanket, "I'm...I'm gonna sleep in the bathroom, okay?"

"But Chris..." she called after him but he ignored her. He went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He locked it and fell back against the door. His body ached with lingering arousal, which he pushed away, trying to wash himself in the cold reality of what had just happened. What he had almost just done. He felt sick as he sat there on the tile floor, his thoughts still with Molly.

He closed his eyes and felt the hot stab of tears. He just wanted this night over. He just wanted to forget what happened.

"Anyone but you." He whispered to himself as one tear managed to escape.

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The next morning Jericho awoke with an aching back from sleeping on the floor and to find that Molly was long gone. The bed was freshly made, the room clean, and his stuff waiting for him. He quickly got dressed and left his room to find a bunch of the superstars mulling out front. He looked at them in confusion when a hand patted his shoulder, "Hey Chris!"

Jericho turned with a frown and saw Christian, "Hey buddy, what's up?"

"Not much. We're all out here waiting for the buses to take us to the airport. You know, Bischoff always arranges that kinda stuff. Man did last night suck! That Victoria is friggin' crazy! I ended up sleeping in my car! I would have gone looking for you but I didn't know where you were."

Sleeping in his car. Jericho wish he had thought of that as he answered in a daze, "Yeah, I was stuck with Molly Holly."

"I figured as much. Ugh, you must have had some night with the Lady Superior, huh? She read you Bible verses and go on about women superiority or whatever?"

"Nah, she was...it was livable." Jericho muttered.

"Yeah, well she looks about as beat as you. I saw her with some shades on and her hair all unbrushed. Looked like a truck hit her and her face was all red like she'd been crying or something, I don't know man, she's one crazy chick. Maybe she missed her girlfriend, Victoria, or something because..."

"Dude, could you shut up," Jericho barked.

Christian held up his hands, "Whoa! What's wrong with you!"

"Nothing just....just a hard night." Jericho hissed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I know what you mean but...I don't know. You seem kinda...different. What'd she do to you?"

Jericho barely heard this as he saw Molly come into view. She looked about as bad as Christian said. She walked past him and at first he didn't think she saw him but suddenly she lowered her shades. Her bloodshot eyes caught his for a moment, then she raised up her shades and kept walking.

Jericho swallowed. He wanted to go to her. Wanted to apologize but he didn't know how to begin. He didn't know what he had been thinking last night but all he could think of now was how he had ended up missing out on something that could have been very wonderful.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, "Dude? You listening?"

"Huh. Yeah, what were you saying?"

"I said what did she do to you?"

Jericho looked after her one more time.

"Nothing, man. Nothing." The buses pulled up just then and he nudged Christian back, "Come on. Let's get outta here."