Sunday night brought yet another house show, and an irate Bubba Ray. Somehow or other he'd heard about the watch and was absolutely furious with the nerve of Trish's secret santa, to use the policy as a forum to hit on her. While Trish partly didn't mind Bubba's outrage (a little bit of jealousy was great for the ego), she also didn't want him doing anything stupid - like challenging the entire locker room to a gauntlet match just so he could get his hands on 'Santa'.
"Any news, Gail?" Trish asked as soon as she entered the locker room.
"Give me some time," Gail replied coolly. "Rene and Rob didn't know, but that doesn't mean Mark and Garrison won't."
"Jindrak and Cade," Victoria commented. "Her newest tag team."
"Why do you waste your time with those rookies?" Stacy questioned, aghast.
"Why do you waste your time with Test?" Gail shrugged.
Trish ignored the catfight that had begun to unfold. "I'm going to go do what I've been avoiding since this started," she announced. "I'm going to go see Bischoff."
* * * *
"Trish Stratus!" His sleazy smirk said everything. At least one of them was happy she'd come by his office. "What can I do for you?"
Trish stood with hands on hips. "I want to know who my secret santa is."
All of a sudden, Bischoff looked bored. "Gift exchange is the day after Armageddon, December 15th."
"I know that," Trish replied. "But apparently my secret santa doesn't. Since Friday I've been given two secret santa gifts, with at least one of those being worth a lot more than twenty dollars."
Bischoff sat back in his chair. "And what do you want me to do about it, Trish?"
"I want to know who my secret santa is," Trish repeated. "It's causing problems for my relationship. My boyfriend wants to kick this guy's ass."
"Who is your boyfriend of the moment?" Bischoff pried.
"Bubba Ray, you know it's Bubba Ray."
"And why should I care that Bubba Ray Dudley's upset, hey, Trish?" Bischoff asked her calmly. "If someone wants to go against the secret santa rules, that's their business."
"I need to tell this person that I'm already in a long-term committed relationship," Trish explained.
"So tell them," Bischoff replied boredly, looking down at his papers.
"I would if I knew who it was," Trish sighed.
Bischoff looked up again, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Tell you what, Trish. I might be able to help you out after all. See, I could tell you who your secret santa is, but in return I'd be needing something from you. Tit for tat, so to speak."
Trish's face crumpled into a frown. "Not a chance, Bischoff. No way. I'll figure it out myself."
"Hey!" Bischoff called as she began to leave. "You won't get a better offer than that. I know who it is and I won't tell you, Trish. You won't ever know until your relationship with that Dudley Boy is dead and buried. Dead and buried."
* * * *
"So, did you find out?" Lita prompted when Trish returned to the locker room.
"No," Trish replied. "Although I do have two theories. Either it's Bischoff. . ." She paused to allow the other divas to groan their disgust. ". . .Or it's someone with a tattoo."
"Well, that narrows it down," Gail commented.
"It was the best I could do," Trish told her. "Put it this way, I was not willing to do what Bischoff wanted me to do just to find out."
"I would have," Gail shrugged.
"Gail, you already have," Terri reminded her.
"Well, we have some news for you, Trish," Molly piped up. "It might be Maven. Your secret Santa struck again."
Trish frowned as Molly handed her another package, this one wrapped in Christmas paper.
Again Trish read the card out loud. Surely something about the writer's style had to trigger something in her fellow divas.
"'Trish, I know you like your bikini shoots on the beach, so I thought I'd bring the beach to you. Merry Christmas. Your Secret Santa.'"
But instead of guessing the gift-giver, all of the divas wanted to have their two cents worth on what the gift might be.
"A bottle of suncreen," a cynical Ivory suggested.
"A sexy bikini," Terri guessed.
"A seascape painting," Molly decided.
"It's the wrong shape for all of those," Lita pointed out. "Just open it, Trish."
And so she did, to discover a large, polished conch shell.
"Oh, that's the kind where if you put it to your ear you can hear the ocean!" Molly called.
"I guess that's what he was getting at," Trish shrugged. "Guys, take a look at the card. Do any of you recognize the handwriting?"
One by one, the other divas examined the card and one by one, they shook their heads.
"Well, that really does help," Trish announced.
"Yeah," Terri nodded. "It's not Booker or Kane."
"Or Stevie," Victoria added.
"Thank God," Trish muttered.
"It's not Spike or Hurricane. . .I mean Shane," Molly went on.
"Or Matt," Lita nodded. "And I think all of us would recognize Bischoff's writing, so it's not him either."
Trish looked at Gail, but all she could do was shrug. "Do you think I'd actually care about their writing? Sheesh."
Trish rolled her eyes and turned to Stacy. "And it's not Drew or Scott."
"Or Bubba or D-Von," Stacy added.
Trish was instantly scowling. "Don't you think I'd be able to work out whether it was Bubba myself?"
"God, Trish, I was just trying to help," Stacy bit back, completely affronted.
"Yeah," Trish muttered. "Sure you were."
"But anyway," Lita called over her. "That cuts around ten people off our suspect list."
"Ooh, sounds like a real mystery," Molly smiled.
Trish just nodded, deep in thought, before a lightbulb went off and she turned to Molly. "You said it might be Maven. Why'd you say that?"
"Because he brought the gift here," Molly replied.
"Really? Why didn't you just say so in the first place?" Trish cried.
"I tried, but you wanted to open the gift," Molly argued.
Trish gave an exasperated sigh. "Okay. Even if it's not Maven, it is a new lead. See you guys later."
* * * *
"Maven."
The first Tough Enough winner was stretching in the hallway, having escaped the bustle of the men's locker room.
When Trish called his name, he rolled into a sitting position and grinned up at her.
"Hey Trish. What's up?"
"Not much," Trish replied casually. "I just want to know about that package you brought for me."
"Oh, that wasn't from me," Maven announced.
"It. . .wasn't?" Trish asked unsteadily.
"No," Maven confirmed. "Me, Jindrak and Cade saw it when we went down the ring to practice. Hey, you look disappointed it wasn't from me. Everything's okay with you and Bubba, right?"
"Yeah," Trish nodded. "Everything's great. . .well, except for this person who keeps giving me presents, I mean the presents are great, but Bubba's not impressed."
"I bet not," Maven replied sympathetically. "So how many presents have you gotten from the anonymous gift giver?"
"Three so far," Trish told him. "I just wish I knew who it was, so I could thank him, but tell him that I'm already with Bubba."
"Well, I could try to find out for you," Maven suggested.
"You'd do that?" Trish asked, finally smiling again.
"Sure," Maven nodded. "I'd do anything for a pretty face. Even one with a big bad Dudley Boy for a boyfriend. I'll let you know if I see or hear anything, okay?"
"Okay, thanks, Maven," Trish smiled. "Who've you got tonight?"
"It's me, Jindrak and Cade against La Resistance and Rico," Maven told her. "House shows. Who can understand them?"
"Yeah," Trish agreed. "A bit like my secret santa. Bye, Maven."
Shrugging her shoulders back, she again headed back to her own locker room. When she got there, she slumped down on a chair next to Lita and rested her head on her friend's shoulder.
"This is starting to get frustrating," she announced as Lita patted her head.
"No luck?" Lita asked.
"It's not Maven," Trish told her. "He, Jindrak and Cade found the package when they were working out in the ring." She glanced up and looked for her fellow Canadian. "Gail, did you know that last week's tag team is taking on this week's tag team tonight?"
"I know, pretty fun, eh?" Gail smiled.
Trish rolled her eyes. "We work in a place where a rumour can travel faster than the speed of light. Why doesn't anyone know who my secret santa is?"
"Maybe you're just asking the wrong people," Lita suggested.
"Obviously," Trish sighed.
"Hey," Lita soothed her. "Don't worry about it. So you have an admirer. You should be flattered, not frustrated."
"I am," Trish replied. "I just. . .I don't want Bubba getting all jealous for no reason. Not when Christmas is coming up. You know, it's the first Christmas since we moved in together, not to mention the anniversary of our first year together and I don't want this hanging over our heads."
"You're such a drama queen," Gail stated. "If Bubba doesn't like it, he can leave. There's plenty more guys where he came from."
"What if it really is Maven?" Molly asked suddenly. "What if he lied because he's too shy to say he has a crush on you? He seems like a sweet guy, he mght be like that."
"Yeah, maybe," Trish replied.
"Whatever," Gail called impatiently. "I said I'd figure it out and I will. By tomorrow night, I promise you, Trish, I will tell you the name of your secret santa. Maybe then we can all shut up about it."
* * * *
"It's Christian," Gail announced triumphantly, the moment Trish entered the room before Raw the next night.
Trish's eyes widened. "It's who?"
"Christian," Gail repeated smugly. "Don't look so surprised that I came through. I said I would."
"Christian," a flustered Trish murmured. "How. . .how do you know?"
"Mark was sitting by him when the bucket went around," Gail explained. "He happened to see the name on the paper."
"Or maybe he just said that so you'd screw him," Lita suggested. "You did tell us that guys'll do anything to get in bed with you."
"Why would he make it up?" Gail challenged. "If he was going to make it up, wouldn't he say it was him so I'd get jealous and try a little harder? You know I'm right. So there you have it, Trish. Now you know who your secret santa is, can we all get on with our lives?"
"Wow, Christian," Trish breathed. "I've gotta talk to him. I've gotta tell him. . .wow. . .wish me luck, girls. Somehow I have to let him down easy."
"Good luck, heartbreaker," Lita grinned.
* * * *
"So then the chick from the drive thru says, 'hey, aren't you from the WWE?'"
Trish heard Christian's voice before she saw him. He was loud, brash, bragging to his friends about some girl he'd met. Could he really be her secret admirer? Determinedly, she put her head down and marched towards him.
"Christian, I. . .oh, Bubba!" she cried. The last thing she'd expected was for her boyfriend to be a member of Christian's story telling group. When it came to their former TLC opponents, he and Bubba sure took love-hate relationship to a whole new level.
Christian laughed. "So, that's how she does it, eh? 'Ooooh Bubba! Ooooh yes!'" he mimicked in a high voice.
Bubba also gave a low chuckle, pulling Trish in to stand between his legs. "What's up, babe?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her middle.
Trish sighed, leaning back into him. She felt incredibly foolish and there wasn't a thing she could do about it - not with Bubba right here. "Nothing."
Bubba moved his head so their cheeks were touching. "Don't look like nothing. Hey, forget these clowns. You know they're jealous."
Maybe Christian was a little more jealous than Bubba even realized.
"Who you calling a clown, assclown?" Jericho shot back, before grinning at Trish. "Ready for our bit tonight, Trishy?"
"Sure, as ready as anyone can be when they have to kiss you, Chris," she replied cattily.
"Ooh, I can't wait!" Jericho cheered. "And I'll make sure I put in a little extra tongue just for loverboy there."
"Dude, you wanna tongue Bubba Ray?" a disgusted Christian cried, deliberately misunderstanding.
"Back off, Jericho, he's mine," Trish growled, before turning around in Bubba's arms. "See you later?"
Bubba frowned at her. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," Trish nodded. "I got what I came for."
"Uh, okay," Bubba replied, confused.
Trish just smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him on the lips, before grabbing him behind the head and turning it into a French kiss that was so intense it was practically pornographic.
She drew back, grinning at Bubba's openmouthed friends.
"Bye, boys," she called, giving a coy little wave before she started to walk away.
"Whoa," Jericho commented. "She never does that to me."
"Jericho what is it about the words 'stage kiss' you don't understand?" Bubba snapped, bringing a smile to Trish's lips.
But the smile slowly faded as she realized she'd accomplished absolutely nothing. Who knew how long she'd have to wait to talk to Christian? And before then, she ran the risk of getting another gift, one that would really make Bubba lose it. Luckily he hadn't seen the conch, she would have definitely had trouble explaining that.
She pulled out a cell phone, deciding to send Christian a text message, letting him know she was onto him. She typed quickly as she walked.
'I need talk 2 u. Dont tell Bubba'
Sighing, she erased the message. Too incriminating. If, by chance, Christian showed Bubba that message, things would be worse than ever. She'd just have to wait until the moment presented itself, or until the secret santa did something so characteristic there could be no doubting who he was.
"Trish!"
She stopped at the sound of her name and turned to see Jessie striding towards her, carrying yet another package.
"This Fed-Ex arrived for you," Jessie explained, handing it over.
"Oh, thanks," Trish replied, turning it over to read the sender's information. Only two words were written there. 'Secret Santa'.
"It was Fed-Ex, so I don't know who it came from," Jessie pre-empted her, with a look of soulful sadness on her face.
"Yeah," Trish sighed. "I'll figure it out. Hey, how's that boyfriend of yours going?"
"Terrible," Jessie replied bluntly. "I think he might break up with me. All we do is fight."
"Well, if that's the truth, maybe you're better off without him," Trish suggested.
"Yeah, maybe," Jessie shrugged. "You know, I love the stupid ass, though. See ya, Trish. I gotta get back to work."
"Bye Jessie."
Trish sized up the latest package, then tucked it under her arm and walked back to the locker room.
"Well, I still don't know if it's Christian," she told the other girls, before holding up the package. "But whoever it is is making sure I don't feel neglected."
She tossed the package towards the rest of her things without giving it another look to be sure it had landed safely.
"Aren't you going to open it?" Molly asked her.
"Nope," Trish shrugged, deliberately ignoring the package as she stepped over to her bag and began taking out her ring outfit. "If I pretend it's not there, it doesn't affect me."
As Trish prepared for the night ahead, the other divas glanced from her, to the package and back again. Finally, Gail Kim couldn't take it anymore, diving over to the package and tearing it open.
"Where's Waldo?" she cried, her disappointment obvious. "I don't get it."
"I'm sure there's a note," Trish replied nonchalantly. "Trish. Blah blah blah. Merry Christmas. Your Secret Santa."
"No note," Gail told her. "It was only done up in bubble wrap."
"Here," Trish called, finally taking possession of her gift. She held the book by its spine with the pages down, then shook it. Sure enough, a slip of paper fell to the floor. Trish reached for it, but Gail was there first.
"'Trish'," she read. "'Don't try to find me. I'll reveal myself at the right time. Until then, have fun finding Waldo. Merry Christmas! Your Secret Santa'."
"It does not say that," Lita argued.
"See for yourself," Gail told them.
Lita took the paper from her, notcing that Trish was again feigning disinterest.
"Yeah, that's what it says," she confirmed. "Can I keep this, Trish?"
"Sure," Trish shrugged. "Why?"
"I'm gonna ask Christian straight out if he wrote it."
"No, don't!" Trish blurted.
Lita arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Trish took a deep breath, her outburst having surprised even her. "When I saw him, he was with Bubba. If Bubba sees that note and it is from Christian, well, bad stuff, Lita. Real bad. Just. . .just let me handle it."
"O-kay," Lita replied slowly.
"I have an idea," Molly announced, darting over to her own bag. She rifled through it for a moment before emerging triumphantly with a small hardbound book. "I don't have Christian's address. I'll get him to write it in here - I'll tell him it's for my Christmas card list, that I'm not gonna have time to do them until our break, then I'll come back here and we can check the writing to see if it matches."
Trish nodded slowly. "That's a really good idea. But you might want to get the other guys' addresses too, so it doesn't look suspicious."
"All right," Molly smiled. "Then we really will know."
* * * *
She approached the group and collected their addresses, looking and acting every inch the class nerd in search of yearbook signatures. When the book reached Bubba, she snatched it back.
"I have your address, Bubba," she announced. "You live with Trish." And as she said it she couldn't help giving Christian a pointed look.
With that being the only conflict, she had what she came for and went to check back with Trish, who compared the writing styles.
"It's him," she nodded emotionlessly. "The note's written more carefully than the address, but it's definitely him. My secret santa is Christian."
But she had no more time to confront him all night. Raw was about to start and they had a show to do.
* * * *
