Author's Note: I won't even try and apologize for this length of time without updating, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though. Please review!

When All Is Said and Done

Part 2 of 4

How long had it been since she'd stepped foot in a WWE arena? Stephanie McMahon pondered the thought as she did so. It taken a bit of plans, but she'd slipped in a side entrance, unnoticed by the guards. She had a backstage pass from a Smackdown! that had been in this town two years ago. Anyone passing by would think the pass was legit, and that was good enough for her. Over her tight jeans, she was wearing a black sweatshirt, the hood pulled up so it obscured her face. She didn't want for it to get around to her dad that she was in the building.

Last night she had decided to valet for the Undertaker in his Buried Alive match with Vince...but on way to the arena, she'd begun to have her doubts once more. Did she really want her father breathing down her neck again? Did she want him to send his minions after her, to beat her down night after night? Did she want to be an unneeded extra burden to her friends? No, she didn't. Perhaps... Perhaps it was just best that she stayed out of Vince McMahon's business...

...publicly.

Thinking about it and thinking about it, she'd realized what should have been obvious: there were valid points to each side. All this time she had been trying to choose between two choices, but now she knew she had a third. She wanted to piss Vince off, she wanted to make him pay, but she didn't want to suffer the consequences. And how could she, if Vince didn't know who was doing this to him? Stephanie smiled. Oh, how simple it was...simple, yet brilliant. She could work from the 'backseat', so to speak, without him noticing a damn thing other than the fact that all of a sudden the world was turning against him.

Oh, yeah... This was going to be one fun year.

Stephanie scurried along a hallway, looking for the Undertaker's name plate on a doorway. She nearly ran into a few wrestlers, avoiding them just barely. 'Shit, shit, shit,' a few minutes later, she began to worry. Stephanie had entered the building when the PPV was halfway done. She'd been there nearly twenty minutes. The contract signing would take place just before the match, and what if the contract wasn't there for them to sign? "Excuse me!" Stephanie stopped a stagehand. "Where is the Undertaker's locker room?"

"I'm sorry ma'am," the stagehand looked at her weirdly; most likely because of her dress. "He doesn't want to be disturbed before his match. Hey—do I know you from somewhere?"

Stephanie grabbed the woman's shoulders tightly. "No. Listen, I'm his lawyer, and I've got a contract to deliver." She waved the document so the smaller woman could see it. "Now where is his locker room?"

"Down that hallway to the left, the third one down," the woman squeaked. "You'd better hurry though," she listened to something in the earpiece she was wearing, "they just sent a stage runner to go and get him to the ring."

"Shit," not bothering with a thank you, Stephanie took off at a run, slamming into various different people. She stumbled after some of the hits, but continued onward, cursing her platform heeled shoes. 'God, the one day I should've won my sneakers...'

"Hey!" Stephanie screamed as she ran head-on into someone. Hands caught her before she fell, and pulled her upright. "Where are you to in such a hurry?" Stephanie felt her hood slipping back, and tried to fix it, but the person she ran into was still holding her hands. The brunette didn't met their eyes, afraid of recognition.

"I've gotta go," she muttered, trying to escape their grasp.

"Are you o—" Stephanie knew that from the intake of breath her hood had slipped from her head. She looked up, and gasped, realizing her captor was none other than Kurt Angle. "Stephanie! What are you doing here?"

"Shh!" Stephanie hissed, looking around and making sure no one had heard his exclamation. "Listen, Kurt, I've got to give this to someone, now, but as soon as I get back I'll talk to you, okay?" she said, and he hesitated. "Please!"

Looking confused and worried, Kurt released her. Stephanie flashed a quick smile, and darted off toward the locker room, pulling the hood back over her head so it shielded her face. The WWE was about two stagehands less by the time she reached the locker room. Not bothering to knock, she threw the door open, only to see that it was empty. Groaning in frustration, Stephanie turned in the direction of the ring. She sprinted toward it, breathing heavily. 'Jesus... If I get through this alive, I swear to God I'll do laps around the neighborhood everyday!'

"'Taker!" she yelled, spotting him on the stairs leading toward the entrance to the steel ramp. She waved the manila envelope in her hands. "I've got it!" Stephanie was only a few yards away. The Undertaker looked at her as she ran toward him, and smiled.

Then he turned and stepped through the curtains.

"No! Wait!" Stephanie screeched, running up to the curtains, but it was no use. He'd stepped through without the contact. The brunette bent over, trying to catch her breath and figure what to do in her time limit. 'I can give them to a stagehand, or I can take them myself,' Stephanie realized. She whirled around, and spotted a woman by the desk of digits and dials in front of the curtains. The woman was petite, with small black glasses and an Asian air to her. Stephanie ran over to her. "Listen, I have the contract that these two are supposed to sign, I'm 'Taker's lawyer, he forgot it in his locker room," she wheezed, and handed her the envelope. "Please take this to them." The woman, running a hand over her dark brown hair, reached forward and grabbed the envelope with one manicured hand.

Stephanie, however, didn't let go of it. Her breath was haggard, and her body felt like she was going to collapse. The stagehand peered at her through the secretarial glasses she wore. "Uh...Miss?" she prompted. Stephanie's eyes darted wildly from the envelope to the stagehand, but she didn't let go of the envelope.

Her decision had to be made...now.

The Undertaker glared at Vince McMahon as he slowly entered the ring, knowing Vince wouldn't dare attack him now. There was a cocky smirk on the face of the chairman of the WWE, and Undertaker knew that there must've been something in the contract that made Vince so ungodly confident. Stephanie would've caught it. 'Taker smiled chillingly at Vince, and inwardly laughed as the other man looked slightly worried. "Let's get this over with," Vince said finally into a microphone, and the two sat down at a table stationed in the ring.

Looking oddly polite, the Undertaker asked for the microphone, and got it. "Bring the contract out," he gruffly demanded. He, Vince, and nearly half a nation snapped their eyes to the curtains, whether on a T.V. set or at the other end of the arena.

The navy curtains at the top of the steel ramp curled around a figure, and flew back as they were pushed apart. A lone brunette stepped from them.