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 5-24 Highlight Reel.
DEDICATIONS: This chapter is dedicated to two great people, and NOT dedicated to one more. To Jodi and Carolyn, thanks for all of your support guys, I hope you like this! And to Nina, this is NOT dedicated to you so that you don't get embarrassed. You're NOT the best, and I do NOT appreciate all of your kind words. NOT :)
Flowers for Jericho
CHAPTER THREE
It was only 5:03 when the adult version of 'hide and seek' began at the arena.
"She's late,"Chris cackled to himself as he stared at his locker room door from across the hall. Once he arrived and saw no flowers and no card, he dressed in record time and took refuge in another locker room, quite a bit larger than his own. Keeping the door of his hiding place open just a crack, he sat on the floor and waited to catch his foolish admirer.
It was debatable whether or not he could really call the girl foolish. After all, could a grown man who arrived four hours early to spy on his dressing room door really call somebody else foolish?
With nothing else to do but stare ahead, Chris tried to come to a decision about what to say to his secret admirer, once he followed her into his dressing room and caught her in the act. He figured she would be embarrassed, and surprised, and probably swoon in his presence like the majority of his groupies.
God, he suddenly thought to himself, I hope she doesn't cry. There was nothing more awkward than a woman covered in tears and snot hyperventilating in front of him. If that occurred, he didn't care how hot she was – she was getting kicked out.
Chris sighed; he was bored, he couldn't figure out what to say, and his backside ached from his position on the floor. He didn't feel like stretching; his only obligation tonight was interviewing Randy Orton for the Highlight Reel, which didn't pose much of a challenge. The young man only talked about three things: whom he had defeated, his title, and how gorgeous he was. Jericho despised people like that.
After all, he reminded himself, It's not like the punk beat both The Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin in one night to become the first Undisputed Champion. And he was nowhere near the status of a sexy beast.
Ironical comparisons were never a strong point for Jericho. Neither was patience. Thankfully, he saw a familiar headset-toting girl walk by, and decided to have a friendly conversation. After all, she had been uncharacteristically helpful last week by giving him her delivery schedule. Getting up from his seat, he opened the door further and grabbed her arm as she walked by
Like most girls who are startled by random touching, Stephanie shrieked and lashed out at the offender with her clipboard. She recognized Jericho after the first hit, then decided to hit him once more for her personal amusement. "What is your problem?" she yelled as he dragged her in the door. "And why the hell are you in Shelton Benjamin's locker room?"
Chris shrugged, releasing his grip on her and returning to his post in front of the cracked door. "Trying to catch my admirer," he explained.
Stephanie gave him a strange look, her face devoid of understanding. With a sigh, he stood up and forced her to kneel down in his former spot. Once she saw the view of his locker room door, she slowly nodded. "So it's true then," she spoke as she looked at his upside-down face from her position on the floor.
"What's true, that you being on your knees with a man in the room can be completely non-sexual?" He did have all intentions of being friendly, anyway.
She scowled, looking back out the door into the hallway. "No, asshole; that you're completely nuts." She then squinted a bit. "Who's the blonde in front of your door?"
Within seconds Chris had thrown Stephanie backwards, nearly stomping on her chest as he threw open the door and ran into… Rob Conway. The La Resistance member's startled face quickly faded into that of delighted surprise. "Bonsoir Monsieur Chris, ca va?" he asked in a newly acquired French accent. Perhaps, Rob thought (in English, since he only knew a select number of French phrases), he will put me in the Walls.
Alas, poor Rob misunderstood Chris's penchant for tight pink pleather. Hearing Stephanie laughing behind him, Jericho wished her a torturous death. He then wished to be out of this situation. Stepping back, Chris put up his hands defensively. "Listen Kermit, I may be Canadian but I do not FRENCH Canadians, got it?" he stressed, rushing back into Shelton's locker room.
He found Stephanie leaning against the wall, tearing up as she laughed her ass off. "Today… best day ever…" she managed to say between outbursts. She wanted to skip to Bischoff's office and thank him for giving her such a shitty job.
Chris peeked out the door to make sure that Rob had left him alone. Sure enough, he spotted the rejected non-Frenchman walking away. "You are so dead, McMahon," he growled, turning his fury towards her. Questioning a man's sexuality can quickly put a damper on his day; for Chris, this was the second Monday in a row.
Steph attempted to calm down. "Whatever Jericho. I was trying to prove a point; I didn't ask Conway to come on to you." She scratched at her chin in mock-thought. "Now that I think about it, Conway is your type: blond, Canadian, and slutty."
"He's not even Canadian!" Jericho argued before realizing that he'd played into her tease. Growling at her victory smirk, he opened the locker room door fully and pushed her outside. "What was the point?" he asked as he followed her outside.
She rolled her eyes. "That this secret admirer is turning you into a little bitch."
He wasn't sure why, but her words bothered him immensely. "You should be happy then, I've just joined your species."
Steph crossed her arms. "Look at yourself. You're letting this girl screw with your mind with cheap flowers and poetic cards. She could be a total nobody! If I had known the so-called 'King of the World' was going to lower his standards THIS much…"
"Sorry Stephy, my standards will always be higher than street trash," he interrupted. He then gave her a patronizing smile. "I mean, it's sweet that you're jealous and all, but…"
"I am NOT jealous!" It was her turn to interrupt him. She nearly laughed in his face; jealous of a silly lovesick girl? Utterly inconceivable. "Besides, I'm not your type."
Jericho saw his finish line, and gave her a large smile. "You're right, I don't go for filthy…"
"Don't your dare." Her brow furrowed.
"Dirty…"
"Stop it!"
"Disgusting…."
She screamed in anger, attempting to bitch slap him. He caught her arm easily, pulling her closer and leaning his face towards her.
"Brutal, bottom-feeding, trash-bag hoes," Chris finished smoothly. Looking into her furious face, he couldn't help but feel three years younger. Even though he applied those special adjectives to another deserving bitch not too long ago, the words were meant to be said to the youngest McMahon. She was their inspiration; she gave them life.
Full of fury and contempt, Stephanie found herself without a comeback. And yet, she knew her best revenge was to be right about this stupid admirer. She could hardly wait until the entire situation blew up in his face. Full of anticipation, she ripped her arm away, grabbed her clipboard (which had fallen to the ground sometime after he pulled her into the hallway) and sent him one more evil look before returning to work.
Chris watched her retreat with a large smile until he remembered that his brilliant plan did not have him standing in the hallway like an idiot. He re-entered his hiding place, only to find that it had been converted back into a locker room, due to the arrival of a certain wrestler.
Shelton Benjamin, who was busy unpacking his things, was surprised to see the blond man enter his dressing room. He was even more taken aback when Jericho ignored his presence completely, choosing instead to sit on the floor in front of his door. Scratching his head, he abandoned his gym bag and approached the other man cautiously. "Something I can help you with?" he asked.
Unbeknownst to Shelton, Chris HAD noticed that the young man was in his dressing room; however, he was too preoccupied with the task at hand. If he were being honest with himself, Chris would admit to being glad that there was someone else in the room to talk to. "I'm busy, Junior." Due to the later hour, there were more people walking around the halls, making his target rather hard to see.
Shelton narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Going to stand over Jericho, he looked out the door as well, to see people milling about in the hallway. Upon closer examination, he saw that Jericho's locker room was directly in his line of sight. Perhaps he thinks he is going to be jumped Shelton thought to himself. "Somebody in your dressing room?"
Chris shook his head. "Not yet, but soon." He decided that elaborating his plan to such an insignificant person would be a waste of his time.
"I see." Actually, Shelton was still confused, but he didn't want the older man to know. With nothing else to do, he leaned against the wall beside the door and watched the hallway as well. "So, uh, you're interviewing Orton tonight, right?"
"Yes." Jericho looked up briefly, noticing how the other man had taken up a door-side vigil with him. "You have a beef with Orton?"
Shelton shrugged. "Can't stand the guy. He's getting too cocky for his own good."
"Like you're not," Jericho snorted. "I can't believe your locker room is larger than mine."
"When was the last time you beat Triple H?" Shelton retorted, flashing him a toothy smile.
Jericho snorted; too cocky indeed. Yep, it was safe to say that he was starting to like the kid. "Alright Junior, I'll give you that. I'll also rile up Orton tonight during the Reel. Maybe he'll consent to a match."
Shelton nodded to keep from gaping at his companion. He knew that Chris had changed after the whole ordeal with Trish Stratus. Still, 'Nice Chris' was rather unnerving. Strange or not, though, he wouldn't pass up the opportunity that Jericho presented him with. "So who are we looking for?" he asked, gesturing towards the hallway. He wouldn't mind assisting Jericho with a beat down, especially if it was someone in Evolution.
Chris sighed, noticing the usage of the word 'we'. This admirer problem was supposed to be private, to be told only to worthy friends. Then again, Chris hadn't had a real friend since he found out about Christian's schemes. With nothing to lose, he decided to enlighten the kid with an abbreviated version of the truth. "This chick keeps leaving flowers and cards in my room when I'm not around, and I want to know who she is."
"You have a secret admirer, huh." Shelton bit back a laugh as Chris's cheeks turned pink. "Are you sure it isn't Trish screwing with ya?"
Chris shook his head violently; he refused to believe that Trish was behind this. His gut told him that it wasn't her. "I know it isn't her. Whoever it is, is driving me crazy though."
"Looks like it," Shelton commented, looking at the man sitting on his dressing room floor. A thought occurred to him, and he snapped his fingers. "I think I saw a chick carrying around flowers in catering when I arrived before. Didn't get a good look at her face though."
Halfway though Shelton's words, Jericho had leapt to his feet, his heart racing. A lead! his mind exclaimed. He nearly hugged the man, but settled for a friendly slap of the arm. "I'll check it out; be a champ and keep an eye on my locker room, okay?" he asked quickly. Not waiting for an answer, he bolted from the room, his eyes searching for any signs of flowers.
Before he knew what he was doing, Shelton had sat in the spot Jericho had vacated. Despite the foolishness that he immediately felt, he looked upon it as a form of community service; if he could help solve this mystery, perhaps it would cure Jericho's erratic behavior.
Unfortunately, Shelton's lead turned out to be a dud. After a thorough scan of the catering area, Chris came up with no bouquet and no girl. Noticing that a number of other wrestlers were staring at him curiously (he was, after all, panting heavily in the entrance of the room), he casually walked over to a bin to grab a bottle of water. Taking a large sip, he nodded a greeting to a nearby Chris Benoit and Edge before retracing his steps towards the locker rooms.
He had taken no more than three steps when he saw none other than Rob Conway and partner coming straight towards him. Further, both Conway and Sylvan were gazing at him in a rather… inappropriate way. Panicking, he searched out a distraction, and saw one in the form of Stacy Keibler walking around him towards the Diva's locker room. "Stacy!" he called out, touching her arm and getting her attention. "I wanted to ask you something."
Tossing her long blond hair over one shoulder, Stacy gave him her best smile. She never expected Chris Jericho to come on to her, especially after his ordeal with Trish. But, she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Hi Chris," she purred, letting her hand rest on his arm. "What can I do for you?"
Like most men, Chris was oblivious to the come on. However, his excuse could be the approaching members of La Resistance. Thankful that she hadn't snubbed him, Chris took the liberty of moving them closer to the wall and out of the middle of the hallway. "I was wondering if you'd seen anyone carrying a bouquet of flowers around?" Might as well see if she knows anything.
Her brow furrowed; why would he ask about flowers? Didn't he want to ask her out? "I don't think so," she said slowly, idly playing with her hair. Looking up at his handsome face through her lashes, she leaned closer to him, giving him another smile and another chance. "So, what are you doing after the show?"
Chris ignored her coy question as he watched La Resistance scowl at Stacy before walking past them into the catering area. With a sigh of relief, he gave her a playful grin. "If you see anyone with a bouquet of flowers, you'll let me know, right doll-face?" he asked charmingly, touching her chin.
Stacy's heart sped up at his touch. "Of course!" she exclaimed. She KNEW he wanted her; she never doubted it. She couldn't wait until she was on the arm of the Ayatollah himself.
He winked at her, taking a step back. "You're the best, doll." Waving a goodbye, he resumed his walk back to Shelton's locker room, completely missing Stacy lust after him like a lovestruck teenager. His problem with the mystery girl may be embarrassing, but if Conway's come-on got out, he'd never live it down. He was glad that he avoided a mortifying scene in front of the dinner crowd.
He wasn't glad to find Shelton's locker room door shut. With a growl, he went into his own dressing room to find… absolutely nothing. For some reason, that bothered him even more. How stupid is she to miss the perfect opportunity to leave the flowers? Beyond frustrated, he decided to follow through with his plans and wait in Shelton's locker room until he had to do his Highlight Reel; he only hoped she would show before then. As an afterthought, he grabbed the other two cards from his suitcase; perhaps Shelton could lend new insight into their meaning.
Shelton wasn't prepared for Chris to come bursting out of his dressing room and trample him as he hurried across the hall. "Man, what's your deal?" he groaned, rubbing his crushed left hand.
Once he regained his balance, Jericho scowled down at him. "You weren't down there a minute ago," he explained. "I had to make sure she didn't come."
"Well excuse me for needing to use the bathroom." Straightening up, he eyed the white cards that Jericho held in one hand. "What are those?"
Leaning against the wall (much in the same way that Shelton had earlier), Jericho handed him the notes. "These came with the last two bouquets."
Shelton read both cards silently, noting both the different handwriting and the flower doodles. He was expecting cheesy poetry… but these simple words were more sincere than that. Although the words were not directed at him, they still invoked a tingle down Shelton's spine. "Wow," was the only relevant comment he could think of as he handed the cards back to Jericho. "No wonder you're acting like a fool."
Normally Chris would be insulted by a comment like that. But Stephanie had said something along those same lines, and he was starting to believe it.
Engrossed with the cards, both men did not notice Stephanie coming towards the locker room, carrying something of great importance. Therefore, it was no surprise that when she entered the room she tripped over Shelton, bumped into Jericho, and fell flat on her butt. "Owwwww!" she cried out from her new position on the floor.
"Tell me about it," Shelton muttered as he rubbed his now injured right hand. Deciding that the floor was too dangerous, he stood up; he went to offer Stephanie a hand up, but realized that both of his hurt too much.
Jericho opened his mouth to make a comment, but froze when he saw what Stephanie held. Immediately, he leaned over to help her up, grabbing the items from her hand as he did. "Where did you get these?" he demanded to know.
"A technician found them by a garbage can in catering just a few minutes ago," she explained. "When he went to throw them in, I realized what they were."
Chris could hardly believe it as he looked at the mangled bouquet of marigolds. "She… she tried to get rid of them," he said to himself as he attempted to straighten a bent stem. He couldn't begin to figure out why, it just didn't make sense. He retrieved the card from amidst the crushed blossoms, holding it in a way so that all of them could read what she had to say.
You deserve the best, but all I have is my love, the note read in sloppy cursive. This time, she had drawn the daisy-like flowers around the words as a type of border.
"What the hell is going on?" Jericho asked out loud. Neither he, nor Steph or Shelton, had an answer.
END CHAPTER THREE
Author's Notes: Ah, and the plot thickens! I'd just like to mention that I have nothing against Rob Conway; he served some much needed comic relief for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed this beastly long installment. Review and let me know what you think!