Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or real people portrayed in this fic. Vince McMahon and the WWE own the characters and the real people own themselves. Based on the song "Full of Grace" by Sarah McLachlan.

The original version with song lyrics can be found at: bitter-solemnity. com /fics /Onepart /FOG.php (just eliminate the spaces in between).

Jericho/Steph muse is being noisy and keeps wanting fics, so I have no choice but to listen. So hope you enjoy, and like I always say, if you want to be brutal, be brutal. :)

Stephanie snuck down the stairs and into the living room. She didn't know why she had woken up so early on a Wednesday morning, but she couldn't seem to sleep any longer. She had wanted to see it again. She knew she had seen it enough, so many times it was scary, but she kept feeling the urge to watch, to stare, to figure it all out.

She slipped the tape into the VCR and grabbed the remote. She settled back into the overstuffed couch and turned on the television. She looked behind her to make sure that someone hadn't snuck up on her, and seeing nobody, she turned the VCR, preparing herself for what she was about to see.

She knew that it shouldn't be this hard, but it was. She should be able to watch this without so much fear coursing through her veins. But it was difficult and she had yet to make it through one full watching without thoughts of him creeping into her mind. She knew this time would be no exception, but pressed play anyways.

It was already at the spot that she had been watching over and over again. She saw Chris's face as he walked up to Trish, and started flirting with her. She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to turn the television off completely. She needed to watch this, for her own sanity. As she sat there, she thought of Chris, about how this behavior was so reminiscent of the first scene that they had together.

"Hey," he said, coming over to her.

"Hi," she smiled brightly.

"So, it looks like I'm going to be doing a scene with you or something," he said, shifting his feet.

"It would seem so huh?" she said, taking in his bowed head.

"Yeah, I'm going to mistake you for one of Godfather's ho's," he said, chuckling nervously.

"Yeah," she told him, "You know I don't think we've ever been formally introduced, that's weird, I mean you've been with us for several months."

"Yeah, I guess this is like the first chance we've ever had to really, um, talk, or something," he said, rubbing his chin.

"Yeah," she said, then stuck her hand out, "Stephanie McMahon."

"Chris Irvine," he said, shaking her hand, and blushing when he didn't let go immediately, "You look all dolled up."

"I hope so, otherwise it would be stupid to have you mistake me for a ho."

"Oh…yeah," he said, "That was stupid of me to say."

"No it wasn't," she said, "Why are you so nervous?"

"Nervous? Me. Never."

"Oh, ok," she said knowingly.

He had been so cute that day, she couldn't help but develop a bit of a crush on him. Any girl would, and maybe Trish had. Maybe Trish's flirting went way past what the script said to do. Maybe her flirting was real, maybe she wanted Chris. Maybe Chris wanted her back. Maybe she needed to stop thinking about this.

She shouldn't be jealous of Trish. It was so stupid to be jealous of someone who was doing their job, but as she saw him reach her hand out and touch Chris's arm as she left, she wished for nothing more than to be that girl, to be that person who got to touch him and got to smile at him. But it just wasn't meant to be that way. Perhaps it just wasn't what was planned for them.

She felt those stupid tears come to her eyes as she watched the scene over and over again. Why hadn't he shown that kind of emotion with her, why hadn't he been so kind to her, why did he seem to click with Trish more than he did with her? She wanted answers, but there was nobody but herself to ask the questions to.

She pressed the rewind button and watched it again. She knew she was torturing herself, but she had to watch it again. She had gotten to the point where every word, every movement was scrutinized by her, every single moment being analyzed to make sure there was nothing going on? If there was, well, she didn't know if she could handle that. She didn't know if she could see them together anymore. For some reason it hurt, it hurt worse than it should.

"Oh Steph," he said, "You sure you don't want to practice that kiss we're going to have later?"

"Haven't we practiced enough for one night?" she joked.

"Never," he told her, grabbing her and pulling her to him, "I can never get enough of kissing you."

"How am I going to pretend I don't want to kiss you tonight?" she said, bringing her lips agonizingly close to his.

"I don't know, the same way I'm going to have to pretend that I don't want to kiss you," he answered.

"I guess," she said, kissing him, "Mmm, everyone is laughing at us because we scheduled this kiss and we're dating."

"I know, let them laugh," he said, kissing her once again.

Her hand went to her lips instinctively as she remembered the way he kissed, the way he would hold her as he pressed his lips against hers, pretending to hate her. She thought of his real kisses, how soft and tender they were and how comforting they could be. If he kissed Trish during this whole thing, she didn't know how she'd be able to handle it.

Would she be able to watch it? No, absolutely not. She'd see it and she'd probably break down or something. She shouldn't feel this way. It was so long ago that things had happened, and things were different and she had no right to be so jealous. None at all. She sighed and pressed pause as she wiped her eyes. She really was being a sissy in all of this. But with her on SmackDown and Chris on Raw, there was so much distance between them now, it never used to be like this.

She cursed this damn brand split. If it had never happened, then they would still be working on the same show, but it just wasn't to be. They had wanted him to strengthen Raw and she had just arrived on SmackDown and was supposed to be feuding with Eric Bischoff. She couldn't leave the show to follow her boyfriend, it just wouldn't have made sense in the storylines. It was the beginning of what she thought to be the end, they were traveling on different days, they would drift apart and never see each other. And now he was doing a storyline with Trish and she couldn't be sure if it was real or fake or what.

"So what did Daddy tell you?" Stephanie asked anxiously as Chris walked out of the office.

"I'm being sent to Raw," he said, still a little dazed.

Stephanie stood there in shock. She thought her dad would tell Chris that he was going to be teaming up with her again. She didn't expect him to be shipped off away from her. She looked up at him, but he was rubbing his cheek, trying to make sense of it all. But she didn't want to make sense of it; she wanted answers. She barged into her father's office and went straight up to his desk.

"Daddy!" she screeched, "How could you do this!"

"Steph, calm down, how could I do what?"

"Why are you making Chris go to Raw?"

"Stephanie," he sighed, "I know that you two are together ok, I know that, but it makes sense for him to be on Raw. He's almost aligned with the Un-Americans and they're jumping over too. Raw needs another superstar and he's not feuding with anyone after his cage match with Edge."

"But Daddy, he could join me!" she protested, not wanting to hear her father's explanation.

"Join you doing what?"

"I don't know," she said, "Be my business partner again or something!"

"Stephanie, I've already made the decision and it stands, you have to understand that I'm doing what's best for the business."

Stephanie opened her mouth to protest but realized it was futile. Her father wasn't going to budge on this one. She walked out dejectedly and Chris looked up at her from the seat he had sat down on. She shook her head and he nodded. They were being torn apart.

She got up and put another tape in the VCR. She sat down and pressed play again. She saw Chris saving Trish. He was caressing her cheek and giving her a look that she couldn't decipher. He used to save her when they were business partners, but as business partners, he wasn't supposed to show all that much emotion for her. She wanted him to look at her like that, but he hadn't given her a look like that in a long time.

She looked at it again. He looked so genuine. She knew he was a great actor, he had proven that time and time again, but sometimes he made it so damn hard to tell. She laid down as she watched it. She could feel the room becoming more and more light as the sun came up. She didn't care though, she could lay here all day, just watching Chris and Trish on her television. It was bordering obsession with her.

She knew she was just scared. Scared that Chris could feel something for another woman. Something that he had felt for her. They had started off innocently too, a scene here and there, talking backstage everyone once in a while. Then one day they had ended up getting drinks after the show. Then drinks turned to dinner, which turned to dates, which turned to more. What if this was happening here, and she wouldn't know about it, she would be left in the dark. The clueless…no, it just couldn't be, it just couldn't.

The director called the scene a wrap and Stephanie and Chris let their evil looks drop from their faces, instead smiling at each other wistfully. He took her in his arms and she let herself be cradled by him. That was to be their last scene together, because Chris was going to Raw on Monday. She felt him stroke her head and then give her a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

"So I guess that was it," he said quietly.

"Yeah, it was," she said.

"End of an era really."

"Yeah," she said, tears forming in her eyes, "But we'll do this again, I mean, they can't keep us apart forever right? I'm the girl that works the best with you, everyone knows it."

"They do," he nodded.

"We'll be ok right, I mean, just because we won't see each other that much, we'll be ok?" she asked, looking up at him, searching his face for the answer.

"Of course we'll be ok," he said, but she could hear the skepticism in his voice.

They were at cross purposes. There were two roads ahead of them and they were each going down one and it would take them further and further apart. He was working some days of a week and she was working other days, and they'd never see each other again. He would move on.

And she would move on too.

She finally stopped the tape after watching for what seemed like hours to her tired mind, but was only about an hour in actual time. The sunrise had thrown her off, turning everything light and she got up to go back upstairs. She passed by a mirror and she glanced in it. She looked horrible. Her hair was still messy from sleep and her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked feverish. Her cheeks were flushed and she ran a hand over her face, as if that would make some sort of difference. When she looked at the mirror again, she found no change.

She trudged upstairs and into her bedroom. She took off her robe and climbed back into bed, pulling the thick blankets over her, letting the warmth engulf her. She turned on her side, away from the window and the light streaming through it. She wanted to go back to sleep. She tried in vain to close her eyes, but every time she closed them, their scenes played through her mind.

She felt an arm wrap around her and then a warm body cuddle up to her. She couldn't look at him. He would know she had been crying, and she couldn't have that. Then he would know what it was about, and she could not let him know what she had been watching. She had to keep it to herself. She felt his arm wrap around her tighter, and she sighed.

"Where did you go?"

He knew she had left. She panicked for a second and then lied, "I went to get a glass of water."

"Oh, where's the glass?" he asked, and she knew he was looking at her nightstand.

"I drank it and then left the glass down there," she said, wincing at how fake she sounded.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," she said softly.

He sighed, "Stephanie, were you watching those scenes again?"

"No," she lied again.

"Stephanie, don't lie to me," he said sternly.

"Fine, I was watching it again."

"God Stephanie, you need to get over this."

"I know," she said, grabbing his arm, "I know."

"How do you think this makes me feel?"

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know why I keep watching them."

"Stephanie, it's between Chris JERICHO and Trish Stratus, you need to get over it already."

Didn't he realize she was trying?

"I know, it's stupid of me to think about it so much isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," he said, "It makes me sick that you're actually jealous of her, because she's having scenes with Chris Jericho."

"I'm not jealous."

He grabbed her left hand and held it up. He entwined their fingers together and she could see the light glint off their matching wedding bands. She saw as he rubbed her wedding band with his thumb, silently showing her why she needed to stop thinking about it. He was right. She was married now, and this shouldn't bother her as much as it did.

"Stephanie, what does this ring mean?"

"That we're married."

"Exactly, and yet you keep obsessing over this. It's starting to make me think things."

"No, I love you," she said, turning in his embrace, "I love you so much."

"Well, it certainly doesn't feel like it right now," he told her.

She leaned up to kiss him, "I'm sorry, this is all me."

"It's not all you anymore Stephanie, it's us now. Do you not trust me?"

"I do," she sighed, "I just--I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you."

"Yes there is, when all I can think about is her and that scene and the look on, just that look that was directed towards her."

"It's a storyline, Stephanie, please, just stop worrying about it. You have me."

"I know," she smiled, then kissed him softly.

"Now go back to sleep," he told her, cuddling up to her again.

"Tell me first."

"What?"

"Just tell me," she said, closing her eyes.

"I love you," he said, kissing her cheek.

"No, say the whole thing."

"Ok," he said, "I love you Stephanie Marie McMahon Irvine."

She smiled, "I love you too Chris Irvine."

She sighed in content as he wrapped his arms around her. She knew it was just a storyline. She knew that in the end, her and Chris had ended up together, that neither distance nor time could keep them apart. His job needed him to do crazy things, but that was just it, a job. She had had to pretend she was married, and he had never batted an eyelash. She needed to do the same. She drifted back to sleep, secure in his arms. She knew whatever came was just fake, and didn't mean anything, and nobody could replace her with Chris.

Nobody.

THE END