DISCLAIMER: I do not own Chris Jericho, Stephanie McMahon, or other wrestlers that appear in the following story. They are the property of the actors and actresses that portray them, as well as the WWE.

SPOILERS: Minor mention of the Chris Jericho/Christian cage match at the 5-10 RAW.

Flowers for Jericho

CHAPTER ONE

It was utterly mind-boggling.

Running a hand through his loose blond hair, Chris Jericho continued to pace in his dressing room, his eyes locked on the item in question on his dressing room table. The offending object had been there when he arrived twenty minutes earlier, and immediately caused an array of emotions.

And that was merely from the attached card.

Realizing that walking a hole in the ground would not solve the mystery at hand, Chris chose to take a seat on the couch. Reaching out to finger the petals of one of the two dozen daisies, he then grabbed the card within the bouquet and read it over once again.

It read, in decidedly feminine cursive: Don't frown - your smile is what I fell in love with. A few flowers were drawn in the corner; other than that, there was no signature.

Rubbing at his eyes, he replaced the card in the fork, trying to comprehend why this bothered him so much. It was certainly not the first bouquet he had received, but there was usually an address, a keycard to a hotel room, or pages of love letters attached from rabid fans. Further, an unsigned, vague message didn't fit the profile of crushing fan. Nor did the simple bouquet of daisies, replacing the lavish bouquets of exotic flowers he was accustomed to receive.

Plus, Chris thought to himself, fan stuff doesn't come until after the show has begun. This fact led him back to his initial conclusions:

1. He had a secret admirer.

2. She worked for the company.

The second conclusion was a bitter pill to swallow. Chris had yet to fully recover from his misguided romance with Trish Stratus; in fact, he had a cage match with her current beau and his former best friend Christian in less than four hours. He often wished he could take back the entire experience with the blonde diva, rid himself of the anger and pain that filled his heart at the thought of her. With that in mind, the mere idea of getting involved with anyone else within the company made him ill. And yet… he liked the idea of someone else lusting after him. It soothed his damaged ego by reinforcing the idea that he was, indeed, a hot sexy beast.

At the thought of damaged egos, Chris snickered, rising from his seat and exiting his dressing room. If there was anyone who could cheer him up, it was the newest (and most severely depressed) employee of Raw. Walking to the head technician's station, he hummed a happy tune, eager to see her face and begin the taunting. Perhaps he could ask her if she knew anything about the mysterious bouquet, since she usually ran superstar errands. But he was more intent on riling her up.

Turning a corner, he caught sight of her, a smirk spreading across his face. Clad in an oversized Raw t-shirt and donning a headset, the newest 'backstage coordinator' was berating another worker. Coming closer, he cleared his throat loudly, garnering her attention. "If it isn't the dethroned princess, hard at work!"

Stephanie McMahon looked at the intruder and scowled, unknowingly allowing her victim to scurry away. "Jericho, I'm not in the mood," she bit out, waving her clipboard as she turned back towards the missing worker. "Where did he go?"

Walking closer, Jericho draped his arm casually over her shoulders. "Well, as you just pointed out Princess, you're not in the mood, so he had no incentive to stay." He mock-sighed, wiping at his brow in mime. "I dare say the entire backstage will be mourning your celibacy tonight."

She pretended to laugh, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "That's funny, although not as funny as your complete inability to revive your sex life from the resident blonde bimbo." She smiled broader at his look of anger. "I suppose you'll have to be the king of your own world for awhile."

He flinched at her words and her smug appearance, but he forced himself to remain nonchalant. "Ah, I knew you'd understand. After all, wasn't it Trish whom Hunter was having an affair with?"

Stephanie's eyes narrowed to slits. Bullseye, he thought gleefully. "Nothing ever happened between them," she said defensively, breaking eye contact and returning her attention to her clipboard. Inwardly, she cursed Chris Jericho for bringing up her ex-husband and her unsuccessful marriage.

"You just keep telling yourself that," Chris nagged, snickering as Stephanie shrugged off his arm and began walking away. "What's wrong? You can dish it out but can't take it?"

Stephanie pushed her hurt feelings away. "I have work to do," she called over her shoulder. Her father had recently hired her back on a temporary basis; however, to 'prove her loyalty to him', she was forced to work under Bischoff as a backstage coordinator. Both men loved to watch her toil away at such a demeaning job (especially Bischoff, who had her running his personal errands as extra punishment), but she reminded herself that this was just the foot in the door she needed; now all she had to do was wait for opportunity to present itself and she'd be the 'dominant female' once more. Glancing at her checklist, she grinned at her next task and whirled around, facing the man who was a few feet away. "I have to locate and deliver champagne and strawberries to Christian's locker room. That's an odd request, don't you think?" she wondered aloud, pointing at her next task so that Jericho could read it for himself. "I wonder what it's for..."

A variety of unpleasant visions involving Christian and Trish was immediately conjured up by Chris, much to his displeasure. He was completely revolted, and suddenly lost his desire to tease the youngest McMahon any longer. "There is champagne and strawberries in my dressing room every night, baby!" he declared, turning to walk back towards his dressing room. "Only the best for the 'King of the World'!" he shouted behind him, barely catching sight of Steph raising her hand towards her face before he turned the corner.

Once he was out of sight, Stephanie smothered a small giggle. It was a relief to see the old Jericho slewing insults left and right again; seeing him mope about over Trish made her want to vomit. Their bantering was the only thing that made her current situation bearable. With a sigh, she glanced at her watch and shrieked at the lack of time left before Raw began and the amount of work to still be done. Breaking into a run, she took off towards catering, grabbing and dragging the first worker in sight for assistance.

As Stephanie was barking orders and panicking in catering, Chris had wandered off back towards his dressing room to warm up. It was while he walked that he noticed that the newly arriving wrestlers were giving him an odd look. He thought it was the usual stares of jealously at first; then, when passing a window, he caught his reflection and even he was surprised by it.

He was grinning like an idiot. And no matter how much he tried to stop, he couldn't. His mind kept replaying certain details about his encounter with Stephanie: how silly she looked in that cheap Raw t-shirt, how she called Trish a bimbo, the way her eyes blazed fire when he brought up the alleged affair between her ex-husband and Trish; each detail would cause his grin to widen just a bit more.

Well then, he thought to himself wryly, I hope my admirer is around to enjoy this. With that thought, he reentered his dressing room and dug out a notebook from his duffel bag. Flipping past Fozzy song lyrics and assorted drawings, he found a blank corner and proceeded to write down all the names of the Raw divas:

Stacy

Trish

Victoria

Molly

Lita

Gail

Ivory

Nidia

He immediately crossed off Trish, deciding that the card and the bouquet wasn't her style. If she wanted to screw with his head, she would go all out with roses and flowery words stolen from Shakespeare. He crossed off Ivory, since she hadn't shown up to brand shows in weeks, and Lita, who was still crazy about her ex-boyfriend. He eyed the rest of the names on the list, unable to come up with reasons why it couldn't be them.

To be honest, the list of remaining divas didn't appeal all that much to him. Stacy and Nidia had a ton of baggage. Molly Holly was bald and psychotic, while Victoria seemed to be bipolar with her suddenly bubbly attitude these days. Gail Kim was hot, but she was also Molly Holly's personal bitch, which wasn't all that appealing. Further, there were all the females he hadn't bothered to list: stagehands, makeup artists, hairdressers, caterers, and other assorted personnel. Chucking the notebook across the room, Jericho rubbed at his temples, once again completely annoyed by his mystery gift.

Well, then there is only one thing to do: get rid of it, he thought to himself. Grabbing the vase of daisies, he quickly made his way to the door, leaning outwards just far enough to place the vase to the right of the doorframe before slamming the door back in place. With a sigh of relief, he picked up the thrown notebook and placed it back by the duffel bag. Now, rid of the sight of the wretched gift, he was able to focus on warming up.

He did a series of stretches, his eyes trained on the door, but that was only because he had ended up standing that way by accident.

He then moved closer to the door, falling to the ground to do his push-ups. His move closer, he told himself repeatedly, was only to hear if someone tripped on the bouquet. He didn't want to miss out on something funny like that. However, nobody tripped over the bouquet, nor even commented on it, not even as he did a series of sit ups, jumping jacks, and more stretches.

"I wonder if someone just took them," he mumbled out loud to his empty room. That made him angry for some reason; those daisies and that card were for him and no one else. He didn't want some mid-carder thinking that his smile was better than the first undisputed champion's. With that thought, he flung open his door and grabbed the unharmed bouquet, replacing them back on the table before the couch. With a sigh, he sat down before them once again, his head on his hands, unable to do anything but gaze at the bouquet and wonder who was responsible for this horrible inconvenience.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes watched down the hallway as Chris reached back out to grab the bouquet once again. Once his door closed, she laughed wholeheartedly at his behavior. She never imagined that her confession and little present would cause him this much trouble. But it was all worth it; the other wrestlers were discussing why Chris Jericho was grinning like a banshee in the hallways this evening. And she'd buy him hundreds of flowers and write hundreds of cards, just to keep that smile on his face. Grinning, she turned and walked away, already debating what the flowers would be next week.

END CHAPTER ONE

Author's Notes: Hello all! I got this idea while working on my next chapter of Façade, and couldn't resist the urge to post it now (hell, I'm an unemployed college graduate, I should have plenty of time to keep up on both fics). Hopefully you all won't object to another romantic fanfic involving Chris Jericho :) I am curious to see if you guys like the idea behind this fanfic, so please review and tell me if this is worth pursuing or if I should just stick to dramatic fiction like Façade :) Thanks for your time guys, take care!