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 08-09-04 Raw, which the author attended :)
DEDICATION: To my brother, Charlie, who accompanies me to all WWE events, puts up with my hooting and hollering, broke up the fight between me and the snot nose kid behind me (who DARED to yell that Y2J sucked, moron), willingly took pictures of all the 'hotties' while I waved my signs around, and still bought me a Y2J t-shirt. You're the best, Booter :)
Flowers Can't Keep Secrets
CHAPTER THREE
There are two types of people in this world: those who use their cell phones only when necessary, and those who use it incessantly.
So Stephanie, being of the necessary genre, groaned in frustration when she heard the familiar ringing from her front pocket. Yanking it out, she glanced at the number, and then laughed at the pointless gesture. It was him; it was always him. In fact, it had been him the last seven times over six days. "You're a real idiot, you know that?" she answered, brushing formalities aside.
Chris Jericho did not miss a beat. "This is how you answer the phone? And you think your father will give you your job back, with this kind of customer service."
"I'll have you know that all my customers are satisfied in the end," she retorted.
Surprised by her flirtatious remark, Chris laughed out loud. "I think we better stop calling each other; you're starting to believe all those names I call you."
"I like how you used the term 'we', seeing as you're the one who constantly calls me," Stephanie said dryly. Looking down at her evening paperwork, she made it a point to sigh loudly into the phone. "I should go; Bischoff has a ton of Diva stuff planned tonight and God knows it takes an hour for them to line up, much less tape segments for the show."
Jericho grunted in understanding; thankfully, his own experience with the Divas on the Highlight Reel had also been his last. "I can bring you a cattle prod, if that'll help."
Steph giggled, initialing a paper and setting it aside. "I doubt it'll work on that redhead. If she's not on crack, then I'm a technician."
"Glorified technician," Jericho corrected.
She scoffed loudly. "Don't make me hang up this phone," she threatened.
With a grin, Chris peeked around the corner of the hallway he was hiding behind. There she was, a hundred feet away, a scowl on her face and surrounded by paperwork. Despite the fact that he could (and she would prefer to) talk in person, he preferred to stay on the cell. She seemed a lot more relaxed when they talked on the phone.
And a lot more flirtatious. Which, of course, pleased him to no end.
As she started to rant about her 'proper title' and 'due respect', Jericho's mind wandered back to the past week. He had called her once a day (twice on Friday when she excused herself to take a bath. He, of course, welcomed the break in order to take a suddenly necessary cold shower). At first, the conversations were little more than polite chats, awkward and full of empty silences. Chris never knew what to say, or how far to push the line, especially with Stephanie's relationship status up in the air.
Then, of course, the second call on Friday changed everything.
Feeling rather like a stalker, Chris called her close to midnight, ready to demand that she either declares herself taken or go out with him.
Of course, that idea went out the window when she coyly asked if he called to find out what she was wearing. After that moment, all serious conversations were avoided, as both of them took pleasure in the light, flirtatious banter.
It was the kind of progress Chris had been praying for. Now, he simply had to sever her attachment to the grease king and she would be his. Simple as that.
"You're not even listening to a word I am saying!" her voice yelled through the earpiece. An around-the-corner glance turned up a red-faced Steph, glaring at her cell phone that she held a few inches before her.
"Of course I was, Princess. I was just brainstorming ideas involving the cattle prod for us after the show," he said charmingly.
"For us after the show," she mimicked in a high voice. "Whatever gave you the idea that I would bend to your will and make plans with you tonight?"
Her words pricked his heart a bit, but he refused to back down. Opportunity was knocking loudly, and this time it would not fall upon deaf ears. "Because I know that while you pretended to be annoyed, you have loved every minute that I called to bother you this past week."
And Stephanie, being the necessary cell phone person that she was, knew that he had a valid point. Every call, as much as she hated to admit it, had been the highlight of her night. "Regardless…" she trailed off, not sure of how to start a serious conversation after days of lighthearted chats.
Edge, the ever-present thorn in Chris's side, picked that moment to ruin all chances of a date. Walking around the corner, the tall Canadian managed to miss seeing Jericho AND piss off Stephanie with one small comment. "Hey baby!" he greeted, taking his place beside her, his arm snaking out for a familiar spot on the small of her back.
The venom that flowed through Chris at the sight of him was identical to the venom in Stephanie's eyes as she glared at him. Cupping her hand over the mouthpiece (a pointless act, Chris silently noted), she jumped away from his touch. "For the last time, I am NOT your baby. And this is an important phone call," she chided loudly.
Before, he was pleased with the progress they were making. Now, he was fucking ecstatic. Time to reveal myself to the competition, he thought to himself as he turned the corner. "Stephanie? Are you still there?"
Hearing his voice, a male voice, come from her cell phone before she slammed it back to her ear, Chris gleefully watched as Edge's eyes narrowed. If she noticed the tall blond's stare, or the way he crossed his arms in displeasure, she did not address it. "Yeah, I'm here," she said, uncupping her hand.
"Good, because so am I."
Stephanie looked up, suddenly startled by his light blue eyes as he approached the table, making a grand spectacle of turning his cell phone off. Her surprise changed into irritation, but a chuckle softened her tone. "Like I said, you're an idiot."
Chris chose not to respond, loving the way Edge's (thankfully dry) hair whipped back and forth as he looked between them. He could almost see the hamster wheel inside the champ's head start to turn, his brain turning from flitting thoughts about conditioner and favorite colors to the harder job of scenario comprehension.
2.3 minutes later, Edge had a breakthrough, nearly suffering an aneurism in the process. "You've been talking to Jericho?" he said slowly, more of a statement than a question.
Stephanie shrugged, not seeing any particular reason to elaborate. Picking up her trusty clipboard, she ignored Edge (since she still seethed from the 'baby' nickname) and instead gave Chris a toothy smile. "Let me know about that cattle prod."
His mind jumped from Divas to his suggestive comment, and he stupidly grinned at her retreating back.
It is amazing how the slightest hint of a threat boils the blood of a man.
Edge always found the youngest McMahon attraction, since their curt introduction during his days in the Brood. Years later, when Team ECK was in its prime, Kurt talked nonstop about Stephanie; pointing out the finest features of both her mind and body. His constant chatter somehow spurned a sort of futile crush in the tall man, since Hunter's ring was still on her finger.
Like many of the wrestlers backstage, her divorce was a glorious event, signaling her re-entry into the land of dating. Kurt tried his luck with her and was firmly rebuffed; Edge, therefore, waited until she seemed more agreeable to dating.
In truth, he wasn't all that surprised that she accepted a few weeks ago. After all, they both were focused on career advancement and personal gain. She had a thing for blond hair, and he had a thing for any chick that breathed. It was a match made in heaven. So it came as a shock as he watched her talk and smile at his current arch nemesis, Chris Jericho.
What bothered him beyond HER talking was the fact that Chris was obviously pleased about the entire situation, as if he wanted the youngest McMahon in a romantic sense.
While he never liked Jericho to begin with (too damn cocky, all talk and no action; Edge despised those types), the other Canadian had an official reason to hate him: he was trying to steal his property. So it came to be that once Stephanie was out of range, Edge took it upon himself to get in Jericho's face. "If you know what's goof for you, you'll stop calling MY girl."
Chris didn't care for the invasion of his personal space. "Funny; we've talked aaaaaaallllll week, and not once was your name mentioned," Chris retorted, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'd think 'your girl' would at least talk about you if that were the case."
Edge steamed, his hands balling into fists. How he'd love to smash in Jericho's nose, just like the incident from last week. "You think you're so damn funny? We'll see how much you laugh after I spear the hell out of you later."
A gasp was emitted from the other man. "How did you know that your lame-ass move tickles? And here I thought you took it seriously!" Leaning closer, Chris squinted at Edge's exposed teeth. "I don't remember you having a gap between your front teeth…"
Edge kept his momentary panic attack inside, choosing only to growl and stalk off to find a mirror. His girlfriend was consorting with the enemy, AND his retainer was still missing. It was enough to give him premature wrinkles…. or make his hair fall out.
With that horrific thought, the tall blond fairly ran towards his locker room, eater to brush and slick back his 'beautiful' locks. That would soothe his frazzled nerves.
Allowing himself a good chuckle over Edge's horrified eyes, Chris turned back towards the locker room area. However, before he stopped at his, he made an important detour.
Ric Flair answered the door after only a few knocks, his white hair slightly askew. Inside, Chris could see hordes of groupies, clinging to Batista and Triple H and laughing their silly groupie laugh. The thought of girls getting on Flair, willingly surrounding him in his fog of Icy Hot and stroking his sagging skin, made Chris's stomach turned.
"What do you want, boy?" Flair asked loudly. "Ol' Naitch here is busy stylin' and profilin' for the ladies… woooooooooooooo!"
"I have a proposition for Batista, so send his ass out here," Chris stated, unafraid of the three Evolution members that were mere feet away from him.
Both men glanced at the dark-haired giant, literally dripping with women. "He's too busy for your silly propositions, boy. 'Sides, he ain't gonna side with you on Sunday. No, not ma boy Dave, he…"
"Would you please SHUT UP?!" Chris interrupted, lifting a hand to rub at his temples. "I don't care about Sunday; I care about tonight, and your 'boy' taking out Edge after our match."
The Nature Boy sniffed, rather unimpressed with the idea. "Dave musta knocked some screws loose in your head, boy. Why would he eva help you, his opponent this Sunday?"
With those fateful words, Chris pulled an envelope out from the waistband of his tights. "Ya boy betta think twice about refusing me, after he sees those," Chris said, mimicking Flair's drawl before thrusting the parcel in the old man's hands. Standing up straight, the Canadian then saluted the aged wrestler. "Good luck getting it up for those guttersnipes," he said, turning back towards his locker room.
"You betta watch out kid!" Ric warned loudly as he absently opened the envelope. Inside, he found two copies of photographs, which mainly depicted a large gray mouse and his Evolution teammate.
The Dirtiest Player in the Game was now in possession of a different kind of dirt.
"Aw shit!"
After that particular confrontation, Chris finally arrived at his locker room, eager to congratulate his newly returned friend on his dark match victory. Once through the door, he found a freshly showered Shelton chatting with Nidia, who was decked out in her ring attire. Chris rolled his eyes; Shelton had talked all week about making Nidia stay with them, 'to keep her protected', and it looked as if she had given in to his demand.
"Chris!" Nidia greeted, standing up from her seat. "You like my new outfit?" she immediately asked, twirling around before them.
Years of dating women who asked these weighted questions told him to actually appraise the outfit, and then flatter her, no matter what she looked like. Pretending to admire the baby doll… thing and black shorts, he tsked his tongue a bit. "Smokin'," he finally responded with mock enthusiasm. Glancing at Shelton, he noticed the young man's eyes feasting upon the twirling brunette, and stifled a laugh. "What do you think, Benj?"
Shelton, startled at the address, moved his gaze to his feet. "S'alright," he responded, slouching down in his folding chair.
Nonchalant responses like that usually have the adverse effect.
Nidia shrugged, pleased that the response were not negative. Chris, however, caught a hint of an idea; but first he'd have to interrogate his friend later.
"Well, I'd better find Vic and Stacy and discuss our match. I'll talk to ya later!" Giving them a big smile and a wave, Nidia strolled out of the locker room.
"Take care," Chris called absently after her, distracted by the last name she had listed. "Benj, you don't think Stacy is going to double cross her, do you?" he asked out loud, slightly worried about his newest friend. By now, the entire backstage had to know of their friendship, including the girl that Chris had rejected not that many weeks ago.
"How is Stephanie doing?" Shelton suddenly asked, eager to change the subject. Nidia had enough troubles with Trish and Tomko; he didn't want to think that she had to worry about Stacy too.
Chris blinked, and then shot a sly smile at his seated friend. "You have a thing for Nidia, don't you?"
"No I don't!" Shelton protested, a little too loudly, a little too vehemently.
"You were staring at her boobs…."
"You stare at everyone's boobs!"
"You made her come and hang out in here…"
"I was protecting her from your psycho ex!"
"And now you're worrying about Stacy, aren't ya?"
"Only because she's my friend too!" Shelton ground out in exasperation. This was getting old, fast.
Chris wasn't finished with him. Not in the slightest. "Yeah, a friend you'd like to bang," he corrected with a smirk.
"Whatever."
"You want to kiss those oh-so pouty lips…"
"Stop it."
"Ravish that hot body…"
"I said stop it!"
"Show her why it's all about the Benjamins…"
"Aaaaaargh!" Madder than hell, Shelton stood and stomped out the door, eager to get away from Jericho's childish teasing.
Mere seconds later, he darted back inside, someone yelling about a Headbangers reunion over the laughter in the hallway. Readjusting his towel (which had almost been tugged loose by a mischievous make-up lady), he gave Chris the meanest look he could muster before retreating into the bathroom with red-tipped ears.
At least, Chris thought to himself, there is someone else who has women troubles around here.
END CHAPTER THREE
Author's Notes: Hey all, that's chapter three for ya. You'd think I would have more to write about, seeing as I went to this past Raw on Monday… but to be honest, I forgot about how much crap goes on during the television shows (namely, the diva bullshit). At least I got to see Chris Jericho and Shelton win their matches :) Plus, I swear to God that Edge saw my sign (it said 'Edge Smells Like French Fries'); he definitely double-taked in my direction and I was sitting pretty close to the ring :D Take that Mr. You-Think-I'm-Greasy!
Alright, beyond all that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter (I wrote this one primarily at Job #1, which may explain some of its quirkiness). I've pushed the ball a bit, so y'all can have some real juicy romance in the near future – the question is, who is the lucky 'juicy romance' couple? :) :) You'll have to wait and see! Until then, I'd appreciate a review or an e-mail with your thoughts on this chapter. Thanks guys, and take care!
PS To Danielle – Your review for chapter one…. Very intriguing, indeed ;)