DISCLAIMER: I do not own Chris Jericho, Eugene Dinsmore, 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: Mention of events from 7-12-04 Raw.

Flowers for Jericho

CHAPTER TEN

Mama always said, 'stupid is as stupid does'.

The choke-slam Kane had just delivered had rattled his brain, randomly sending him back to few months ago to when he filmed his segments for another VH1 decade show. Now, as he lay on his back in the middle of the ring, Chris Jericho could only think of Tom Hanks and grunge music.

Ugh, did he hate grunge, the antithesis of pretty-boy metal (of which he was a card carrying member)! He would rather be choke-slammed a million times than be caught dead in a flannel shirt.

Returning to the 21st century, Chris pulled himself up to a sitting position. Glancing at the referee crumpled up beside him, he decided that perhaps taunting the Big Red Machine after that guttersnipe told him off wasn't the best of ideas. To be frank, he hadn't had ANY good ideas of late (minus crowning himself as the undisputed master of musical chairs).

With a sigh, Chris slowly stood and hobbled backstage, noting a number of sore body parts. He decided against getting some ice, wanting only to retreat to his locker room and take a nice hot shower.

Unfortunately, his attention was diverted by Eugene, who was running up to him, a huge smile on his face. "Chris Jericho! Chris Jericho!" the young man yelled, his arms stretched out like wings.

As much as he liked the kid, Chris was rather embittered that the special lad had a shot at the heavyweight title tonight. First Edge, and now this? Was Bischoff provoking him into looking for a Smackdown trade? "Hey Eugene," Chris groaned, moving to lean against the wall. If anything could come out of this conversation, perhaps he could get a title shot from the kid when hell officially froze over tonight.

Tripping over his feet a bit, Eugene stopped 'flying' and began to dig around in his jacket. "Chris Jericho! Yesterday I went to Chuck E. Cheese's, and today I get to fight Chris Benoit!"

"You're a lucky guy, Eugene," Chris said, with a little envy. It DID sound like an awesome couple of days…

Finally finding the object of his search, Eugene removed his hand from the inside of his coat. "Did you want to see pictures?" he asked, thrusting them under the blond man's nose.

"Not really…" Chris trailed off, catching sight of Dave Batista on the top picture. "You know, I think I will," he said eagerly, snatching the pictures from the smiling Eugene.

As he flipped through the pictures, Jericho could not contain his laughter. These had to be the best set of blackmail pictures he had ever seen! Most of them were taken by Eugene, and were of Dave looking pissed or bored in front of random games. But near the end, Chris struck gold: one picture was of Eugene and Dave in the ball pit, with Eugene smiling and waving while Dave stood with his arms crossed; the other was Dave looking rather disturbed, while Chuck E. Cheese had his arm around the large man's shoulders.

Still staring at the picture of the mouse and the giant man, Chris wiped at his eyes. "Eugene, these are without a doubt the best pictures I have ever seen."

Eugene beamed. "Me an' Dave had fun!" he said, reaching for the pictures.

Jericho avoided his grasp for a second. "Hey, do you think I could have the last two? To put on the Highlight Reel sometime?" God, he couldn't wait for that segment.

The young man's eyes grew as big as saucers. "My pictures on the Highlight Reel? On the Jeritron 5000? WOW!" he exclaimed, nodding his head up and down. "Sure Chris Jericho, you can have them."

"Thanks Eugene. Good luck with your match tonight." Handing back all but the last two pictures, Chris ruffled the young man's hair before pushing himself off the wall and retreating to his locker room. Now, if only I could get some dirt on Edge…

Pushing open the door to his room, Jericho was greeted by the sight of a large bouquet of peach-colored roses sitting on a bench. Completely taken aback, Chris felt his good mood start to evaporate; after the card he had received last week, he had fully expected to be confronted by the girl and NOT another bouquet. He knew she was unpredictable, given the tone and type of flowers he had received over the last ten weeks, but this fickle behavior was starting to get on his nerves. Easing himself onto the bench the flowers sat on, he set down the pictures from Eugene and grabbed the card.

Next week, it said.

"Figures," he mumbled under his breath, tossing the card aside. The stupid chick was too scared to reveal her identity; in fact, he wouldn't be surprised if she stood him up again next Monday. Perhaps she hadn't realized that over the course of the week, he had grown excited at the prospect of knowing who she was, and that by selfishly postponing their meeting, she would be crushing his hopes of resolving this mystery.

Gazing at the flowers, Chris felt his anger swell a bit. The orange blossoms did not comfort him this week; in fact, their apologetic nature made him want to crush them under his foot. Despite the discovery of Batista blackmail, the last seven days had been nothing but disappointing: losing to Randy Orton (whom Edge beat), losing to Batista (whom Edge also beat, the cheater), and losing faith in his secret admirer.

It was during this brooding that Stephanie McMahon burst into the locker room, without knocking. Taking inventory of the room, a confused look crossed her face. "Where's Shelton?" she asked, fully expecting the young man to have accompanied Chris to Raw.

"Playing hide and seek. Why don't you leave and go find him?" he sneered, resting his head in his hands. Didn't she realize that he was busy feeling sorry for himself?

Resting her hands on her hips, Stephanie glared at him. If he wanted to fight, she would be more than happy to oblige. "Well excuse me for asking, Jericho. What jumped up your ass?"

"You're confusing me with yourself, Princess, and I don't want to know what you and Edge do at night. Where is your little boy toy anyways?"

Stephanie blinked; how had this conversation switched to Edge? "How should I know? He's probably shining that bloody belt again."

Jericho snorted; the other Canadian was fast becoming the next Triple H. "Jealous Steph? I'm sure your boyfriend loves you and his title equally."

She groaned, running a hand through her hair. One date with the guy and now she was fucking Mrs. Edge to the entire backstage. "We're not dating," she stated through gritted teeth.

Jericho looked up; her brow was furrowed in annoyance. He couldn't tell if she was upset at his question, or that she wasn't dating the Intercontinental champ; but the last thing he wanted to do was continue to talk about that jackass. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Princess; it was the rumor of the week."

"Well it's not true, dammit." Tired of standing, she strolled over to the bench, sitting on the other side of the bouquet. "Speaking of rumors…"

Chris knew where she was going with this; Shelton must have told her about last week's bouquet. "No, I still don't know who she is. Next week, the card says."

Steph nodded, leaning forward to sniff one of the closer buds. "So what are you going to say to her?" she asked curiously, enjoying the scent of the roses.

He couldn't answer her right away, for he was rather dumbstruck by how lovely she looked at the present moment, with her eyes closed and the hint of a smile playing across her lips. Chris then decided that Kane had caused some permanent brain damage. "Probably tell her I'm not interested, unless she's a hottie."

Her serene expression turned ugly as she leaned back to scowl at him. "And if she's hot, then what? You'll deem her worthy to sleep with? Ugh, and people say I'm heartless!"

"What do you expect me to do, Steph? Whisk her into my arms and tell her that I'm madly in love with her?" He snorted at the thought, crossing his arms and returning her glare. "I'm not a chick. Getting flowers and little poetic cards now and then doesn't make my heart flutter."

"And yet it stroked your ego just the same," Stephanie retorted. "Her attention pulled you out of that stupid depression over Trish and put your head back in the game."

Jericho scoffed at the idea. "Are you serious? Do you know how distracting it's been to have this secret admirer? Half the time in the ring I'm wondering if she's sneaking around in my locker room!" he almost shouted, causing the brunette to wince. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to calm the fire that now burned within him. "It was nice while it lasted, but I'll be glad that it's over."

Stephanie shook her head. "That's bullshit and we both know it. All I am saying is that this girl is obviously crazy about you…"

"Crazy is the key word here," Chris interrupted.

"And you need to keep her feelings in mind, unless you want to deal with a woman hysterically crying." Chris's face filled with terror at the idea, causing Stephanie to chuckle. "Have dinner with her and be your obnoxiously charming self. That'll lessen the blow."

"But what if she's ugly?" he whined. First she invaded his privacy, and now he had to take her out? It was outrageous what chivalry had become these days!

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Grow up. If I was her, and I got to eat dinner with the 'King of the World' himself," she paused, her mocking face growing serious. "It would be a dream come true."

Her wistful expression startled him; he found himself unwilling to think about why she was acting this way. I'm probably wrong anyway. "Better make that a wet dream, Princess, cause it is never going to happen," he said defensively.

Her face looked a bit shocked before she turned away, allowing her hair to mask her expression. "Of course, a slut like me usually doesn't get dinner, right? It's right to the dessert." Standing up, she ran a trembling hand over her jean skirt. "I think I'll go find Edge and congratulate him on his victory tonight over Batista."

"Congratulate him on grabbing the ropes while you're at it; that's champion behavior right there," Chris called after her. She slammed the door in response. Once she was gone, he rubbed at his temples, his thoughts jumbled about. Between speculating at Stephanie's behavior and the prospect of taking his admirer out, he was growing a mother of a headache.

Maybe Stephanie had a point; taking the girl out to dinner would be harmless and make him look nice and sensitive, until he told her to get lost. But that wasn't what was really bothering him.

Was it possible… that Stephanie liked him?

END CHAPTER TEN

Author's Note: Happy Sunday all… (does a double take of calendar)… dear god, I am a day early! Hope you enjoyed the chapter; I added the Eugene/Dave Batista pictures purely for my amusement (after I was denied Dave in the moon bounce last week). This was just a little set-up chappy for the big finale next week, which in all honesty will probably be posted on Sunday. Please review and let me know what you think. Take care!

PS I'd like to take a moment and thank VH1 for having Chris Jericho on 5 times a week. Seeing him sing Ace of Base on the 'I Love the 90's' show truly made my day yesterday.