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: Mention of events from 08-02-04 Raw.

JUST A REMINDER: This is the sequel to Flowers for Jericho. If you didn't read it, then more than likely you won't understand a thing that's going on. If you like that sort of obliviousness, however, be my guest and continue :)

Flowers Can't Keep Secrets

CHAPTER TWO

Orthodontics is a sensitive subject. Ask any teenager.

On a somewhat related subject, Chris Jericho was wishing to punch every single obnoxiously white tooth in Edge's mouth. They would probably grow back like the rodent that he is.

The rodent in question was, of course, a weasel. While Bobby Heenan made the term famous for his infamous behavior, it was Edge's recent antics that made him the newest applicant for the vacant title. And while the tall Canadian's cheating ways could easily be classified as weasely, Chris was more concerned with what Edge had managed to weasel out of his grasp.

Or rather, who.

Stumbling backstage (the stumbling a result of the stiff punch that Edge had given him in the previous Highlight Reel), Chris Jericho was greeting by the 'who' in question, who had a similar set-up near the gorilla as last week. Her blue eyes immediately locked on his, and Chris swore he could see remorse in her gaze. His mind spun into action, desperately wondering if she regretted her current situation and relationship with the IC champ; if so, that could be easily remedied. She then opened her mouth, and he shut down his internal monologue, as not to miss a single nuance of her voice.

"Evolution is going to dismantle you two tonight."

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a cry for help. But Chris contorted the statement into a concerned plea, and was thus satisfied. "Don't worry about me, baby. I'm sure they'll be something left of this body," here he flexed his bicep in her direction, "For you to manhandle back at the hotel."

Stephanie guffawed loudly, her eyes lowering back to her work. The master of cheesy lines, indeed. "And how do you know that I don't have any plans tonight, Jericho?"

Her words were a shot to his gut. Of course she would have plans with Edge; they were a couple, after all (or so the backstage rumor mill said). "So what are you and Fabio doing tonight?"

Her nose crinkled in thought. "Fabio doesn't have greasy hair…"

This time, it was Chris who cracked up. "Aren't you getting tired of your fingers getting tangled in that rat nest? I use Jhirmack," he stated proudly, swinging his head around to display his girly-gorgeous blond locks.

Before she could comment, Edge appeared through the curtain, his frog-like eyes still full of fury and a hand holding his nonexistent bloody lip. His demeanor changed as he glanced from Stephanie to Chris, becoming more haughty and incensed. Being the intelligent Canadian that he was, Chris walked away as soon as he saw Edge's gigantic jaws open to speak. Steph or no Steph, he didn't need to hear one more whiny bullshit line from that moron. In fact, he could be the newest king of bullshitters.

Somewhere in the Raw arena, Ric Flair broke down in tears, having lost his first, and most likely last, undisputed title reign.

Keeping a brisk pace to catering, Chris was held his head high and ignored the snickers from a few lollygagging wrestlers. No doubt they thought that he had been burned by that Trish comment; however, beyond a sort of surprise that Edge even cared to keep tabs on events outside of his little world, Chris had no feelings on the subject.

Nope, he no longer harbored feelings for that stupid backstabbing skanky bitch.

Arriving in the catering area, Chris spied his travel companion and another newly inducted friend sitting at a table. This struck him as odd; further, it looked as is the two were less than happy. Shelton's face was pure disgust, while Nidia's held a sort of complacency that seems to be inherent in frustrated women. Beyond curious at the subject matter that had been the source of these disgruntled looks, Chris tried to sneak closer, but a potato chip ruined his stealthy approach.

Two pairs of eyes locked on Chris; Shelton's fury immediately seemed to retreat into an odd sort of grimace. "Hey CJ, how'd it go with Fabio?"

Before Chris could respond, Nidia jumped in. "I don't think that's a good nickname, Shel. Fabio has much prettier hair than Mr. You-Think-You-Know-Me."

Chris groaned loudly. "Don't bring that up! I still don't understand what I don't know about such a one-dimensional creep. Even an asshole is in 3-D."

"That's a bit graphic," Shelton admonished, while Nidia merely threw her head back to laugh. Chris caught sight of the bruises on her neck; not because of their growing faintness but merely for the fact that they hadn't seemed to improve at ALL. It had been a week; logically there should have been some sort of change. So Chris, being the impulsive lad that he had a tendency to be, did what any nosey detective would do – he reached out and touched them.

Nidia flinched, her laughter stopping instantly.

And makeup smeared onto his probing fingers, revealing ugly red-purple bruises that couldn't be more than a day old, much less a week or two.

Feeling as if he was on the verge of something…. something, Chris eye-balled Shelton (despite the fact that it was Nidia's neck; she had lied to him before and as stated before, he had reached his bullshit quota). "Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?" the Canadian hissed, his fingers hovering just above one particular oval-shaped bruise.

Shelton ignored his gaze, simply choosing to lock eyes with Nidia. After a near minute of silent looks, the young man audibly sighed. "You know how Nidia was attacked by Trish a few weeks back when she won that match? Well, she and Tomko found out about you two being friends, and decided to choke her out earlier tonight."

Chris's mouth ran dry; and here he thought the Trish problem had been exterminated. "How did they find out?"

Nidia bit down on a finger, then played with her gum nervously. "Well, ya gave those flowers ta me last week, and I happened to walk by Edge when …"

If cartoons had some semblance of reality, steam would be flying out of Chris Jericho's ears. Enraged, he picked up the nearest item (a folding chair) and threw it at the nearest wall (adored with a picture of Eric Bischoff). Some people who witnessed the action cheered, thinking it was a retaliating gesture against the demanding GM. Others returned their attention back to their food, not particularly surprised that Chris Jericho was freaking out. He didn't have the reputation of being level-headed, after all.

Both Shelton and Nidia rose to their feet. "Chris, it's not a big deal," Nidia started, reaching out a hand to comfort the heavily breathing man. Before she touched his shoulder, however, he gave her a half-crazed look and, grabbing her hand, started dragging her down the hallway.

"Chris! What the piss!" Shelton half-shouted, having to jog to keep up with the pair. When he caught sight of Chris's eyes, however, he let out a breath.

Chris wasn't going to kill anyone. Well, not intentionally.

No no no, Chris Jericho had a plan. And judging by the look on his face, it was a doozy.

Due to the brisk pace, the trio reached Edge's locker room door a minute later. Finally releasing Nidia (who still gave him somewhat of a fearful look), Chris took measures to check the hallways for any nosey technicians. Once he was satisfied, he returned his attention to her. "Go in and see if he's in there," he demanded, nodding towards the door.

Her mouth dropped open, and her gum would have met the floor tragically (yet again) if Chris hadn't closed it for her. Once she realized he was seriously, she shook her head violently. "No way."

Making a whining sound in the back of his throat, Chris began to bounce on the balls of his feet. "All I am asking you to do is check. Just peek your head in, look around, and then come out and hide behind me and Benji. Please?" he begged, forcing his eyes to go large and his lower lip to drop in the dreaded puppy dog pose.

"Jericho, this isn't the best…" Shelton trailed off as Nidia turned, stuck her head in the door quickly, and then returned her whole body to the hallway. "Idea," he finished belatedly.

Thus was the power of the Chris Jericho Puppy Dog Lip. So pathetic, it forced any beholder to do the will of its master, if only to make the look disappear.

Despite the fact that her head was in Edge's locker room for a short amount of time, Nidia still gasped for breath from the adrenaline rush. "He's not in there," she stammered out, moving past the two to lean against the wall behind him. "So what are ya gonna do?"

The evilest of grins spread across Chris Jericho's face. "The ultimate in blackmail," he replied simply.

Much later in the evening, the participants in the main event were hanging around in the gorilla, waiting for their match to begin. Like always, Evolution took their position by the curtain; the three men assured that no one could surprise them with a sneak attack.

The hodgepodge team of Chris Jericho, Chris Benoit, and Edge were standing across from them, leaning on Stephanie McMahon's makeshift desk. Well, two out of the three members were; Edge had yet to appear.

"So Stephanie…"

"What now Chris?" she absently responded, keeping her eyes on her work. If he thought she would be distracted by him and his silly pick up lines, he was sorely mistaken.

Despite her brush-off, Jericho was undaunted by her scheme. "You know what would make you reeeeeeeeeeally happy right now?"

"It would make me happy if you shut your fat mouth," Randy Orton commented from across the hallway. He was ignored by both.

Knowing that he probably wouldn't allow silence as an answer, she sighed and set down her pen. "Why not? I suddenly find myself beyond irritated."

Chris gave her a wide grin. "Giving me your cell phone number."

The hallway was filled with groans. Benoit, more discreet than the rest, rubbed at his temples before gazing down the hallway. "I wonder what's keeping Edge," the champ growled, worried that Jericho would be too busy flirting to be helpful in case Evolution got rowdy.

Jericho, distracted in his attempts to get Stephanie's new cell phone number, couldn't help but grin at his stoic partner. "I'm on time, Chief! Do I get a gold star?"

His partner merely growled again, choosing to fall back into his trademark silence. Randy, overhearing the exchange from his position, stepped forward with a smirk. "What's wrong, did you guys lose the Scarecrow on your way to see the Wizard?"

Benoit puzzled over the barb, wondering if Orton just called him a teenage girl, while Jericho took a step towards Randy. Despite the disgusted look he plastered on his face, Jericho was secretly pleased that even Evolution thought Edge was a brainless fool. "You're saying that one of US is the Tin Man, when Old Man Flair over there has enough metal in his head to set off airport security twenty miles away!"

Flair turned red, tripping over his feet in his attempts to rush Jericho. Batista held him back, but barely. "Who are you calling metal, huh boy? I'll chop you to bits! Wooooo!" he threatened, not catching on to his rather ironic statement. Tin in the head will do that, unfortunately.

Before the two groups could make another move, Edge burst upon the scene, looking beyond distressed. In fact, his beady eyes looked to be swimming in tears. Glancing around, he caught sight of Stephanie and rushed over to her, a hand tearing through glistening hair. "Steph, call Bischoff. There's been a robbery!!!!"

Jericho looked at Benoit, then pinched his nose. "Do you smell French fries?"

Confronted by the soaking wet, anxious man, Stephanie acted on instinct and took a step or two back. Reaching to the pack that was clipped onto the back of her jeans, she flipped on the switch and looked back at Edge. "Alright, I'll call security. What is missing?"

The tall man wiped at his nose, desperately holding tears back. "My retainer!"

The secret behind Edge's perfectly aligned rows of teeth had finally come to light. After years of braces to straighten teeth that were called 'inbred fabulous', his orthodontist had given him his first retainer, warning him to always wear it or suffer the consequences of ugly teeth. While most teenagers wore their retainer a few times, then rebelled against the ideals behind it, young Edgeward wore it religiously. In fact, he had been wearing it for the last 18 years, scared shitless by the idea that he would wake up one morning and find his teeth to be crooked and ugly once more.

Impressionable? Yes. This was also the man who once believed his hair to be shampoo commercial-worthy; the stretches of his imagination were endless, to say the least.

Turning away, Chris Jericho's shoulders shook as he suppressed his laughter. Next to him, Benoit seemed to be making some strange noises, his stoic façade threatening to crumble. Flair's mouth fell open in disbelief, while Orton gave him a curious look, debating the man's sanity. Even Dave Batista's mouth twitched in amusement.

Inwardly, Chris complemented himself on the best prank performed to-date; ironically, he had Christian and his big mouth to thank for it. In his wildest dreams, he had never expected Edge to come out in front of everyone and fess up to his orthodontic brace, much less break down at its loss. He only wished Shelton and Nidia were around to enjoy it. Not that he wouldn't love giving the narrative after his match.

While the other men attempted to be professional, Stephanie flicked off her headset and openly chuckled. "I don't even want to know why you still have your retainer,"

Edge gave her a confused look. "I always wear it when I warm up…"

That was all that Chris could take. "I hope your Mama doesn't ground you for losing it," he exclaimed before erupting in laughter. Across the hall, Evolution was leaning against one another, pointing at Edge and laughing at something Orton had said.

Benoit, the professional that he was, remained quiet. His eyes, however, looked pained as he held in his emotions.

While they laughed, Stephanie and Chris's eyes met, but her smile made his laughter die away. Sure, she would laugh at his pranks (he knew that she knew he was the mastermind; her eyes held an impressed twinkle), hell she would even laugh at her boy toy. But she wouldn't give Chris her cell number..... it just didn't make sense.

Little did he know that after his match, he would find a Post-It note, bearing the message: 'Nice prank' followed by ten digits, sticking to his gym bag.

He may have lost the match against Evolution, but he would win the war that evening.

END CHAPTER TWO

Author's notes: Hey guys; had some down time between the jobs so I threw this chapter together. I'm not especially pleased with it… don't really know why… I just want everything to be perfect I guess :) I just hope you guys liked it; leave me a review and tell me what you think!

Oh, and one last thing… I have had some comments about Edge being a jerk. Well, beyond my personal opinion about him (which Edge lovers would NOT want to hear lol), he is the antagonist in this story, and as such he must be a jerk. Sorry, but I hope you'll still read and judge the story for what it is, whether you are an Edge fan or not :) Thanks, and take care!