Author's Note: I'm baaaaaaaaack! :) Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I had some fun writing it. Thanks to Ani, nascar girl, StephanieIrvine04, DCFanatic4Life, Judy Greenleaf, Y2J Chris Jericho, huntersgirl, lucyzigg, kandiland, and des1 for the reviews! Please keep 'em coming!

Halo Over the Devil's Head

Chapter 6

Stephanie McMahon smiled to herself as she walked into the RAW arena for the second time in what seemed like years. Thinking about RAW and general-and consequently last week-made her want to crawl underneath a rock, but she wouldn't do it. She was Stephanie McMahon, damn it! She would stand tall against the world, whether it was kind to her or not.

Well, okay, so that was a little bit of embellishment, but she was here, wasn't she?

'Just don't think about him, or her,' she thought to herself, 'and you'll be fine. Just carry out the plan for tonight. Remember what Bischoff did to you last week. Focus on that.' Smiling at the thought of what Eric Bischoff was in for tonight, Stephanie pushed aside all thoughts of a certain Chris Jericho. Tonight was not about him, it was about revenge.

Of course, it didn't help that he and his fiancée seemed to be popping up in her head every time she stopped thinking about something for a minute. 'Argh!' Stephanie stomped her feet as she walked to the cafeteria. 'This is so frustrating. We slept together! Does that mean anything to him?' her eyes narrowed, remembering his words. 'Yeah, apparently not.' She gritted her teeth, wiping her eyes as water stung at them. 'God, they need to dust around here, all that crap in the air,' she thought lamely. 'I can't believe... Ugh! Why can't I just stop thinking about him? He's not worth it. First he saves me from Three Minute Warning, and says it was for old time's sake, and then two minutes later he's claiming that the past means nothing to him. Make up your mind, Chris Jericho!' she thought vigorously. 'You're a gutless prick.'

'Oh, then why are you thinking about him all the time?' her thoughts counteracted, Stephanie growing more frustrated by the minute. She did not need this!

'Maybe I find gutless pricks attractive,' she countered, 'after all; I married Hunter, didn't I?' Sighing, she grabbed a container of salad and sat down near a table at the back, alone with her rebelling thoughts. So absorbed was she in stabbing the blades of lettuce with her fork, she didn't notice someone sit down until they spoke.

"Uh, hey Stephanie," the tentative male voice reached her ears.

Stephanie snapped her head back, and just barely caught her gasp in time before it was audible. 'Chris Jericho! What the hell is he doing here? Haven't you chewed me out enough?' "Hi, Jericho," she replied stiffly. One part of her wanted to sucker-punch him, slug one off at that pretty cheekbone of his, another part wanted to curl in a ball and cry, and another part wanted to leap across the table and kiss him, fiancé or not. She wasn't sure what part was winning when Chris spoke again.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Well," he drew the word out, "How are you?"

"Peachy."

"God, you aren't making this any easier!" he exclaimed.

Stephanie looked up, narrowing her eyes. "Excuse you?"

"Look, I want to be friends with you," Chris explained.

"God," she rolled her eyes, "Chris, why are you even trying? You got your point across last week. I don't need a pity wagon."

"The reason I'm here has nothing to do with last week!"

"Oh, really?" she sighed. "Whatever, Chris, just whatever."

"You're so difficult! I just want to be friends, like we used to be!"

Stephanie gritted her teeth. The bitchy McMahon was so definitely winning, and the crying was in close second. "We were never friends, remember? It was just about the sex to you!" she didn't care who heard. Let the whole world hear! She and Chris Jericho had had sex!

"Steph!" he cried as she stood up, walking off at a brisk speed. He groaned, and stood, chasing after her. In response, she quickened her speed. They kept it up for a while until they were flat out running. Chris sped up enough to grab her wrists, pushing her back against a wall so she couldn't escape. Stephanie struggled for a minute, and then settled for glaring daggers at him. "What is your problem?" she lunged to go, but his grip was still strong. "I just want to be friends, Stephanie, is that too hard?"

"G—" she sighed and stopped struggling, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Okay, Jericho, I'm saying this once. What you said last week, I guess it was right. I was looking to start our relationship over again. Even though—hey, let me talk," she said as he opened his mouth, "Even though I was out to get Hunter, and you were out for the sex, I started to feel like there was something actually between us, and maybe I was the only one that thought that, but I did. So yeah, I came back to start a relationship, I found out you were engaged to the blond bitch of a century, and I'm going to go as soon as this shit with Bischoff is cleared."

"I loved you," the words fell from Chris's lips before he could think. Stephanie, surprised, looked up at him, suddenly feeling very small.

"I loved you too," she whispered, transfixed by his eyes. Everything seemed to be in a haze, and his mouth was coming closer, and closer, and closer...

She turned her head to the side, her entire body trembling. Stephanie jerked away from him, stumbling backward. She would not become his toy to use whenever he wanted to, not again. Jericho stared at her, looking shocked as if he just realized what he'd been about to do. "Go back to the whore you chose over me," Stephanie whispered hoarsely.

"I didn't have a choice of you," Chris said, suddenly spurred by her words, "You know why? Because you betrayed me."

"What?!"

"Oh, don't tell me, little Stephy forgot. Let me refresh your memory. Chris Jericho and Stephanie McMahon versus Triple H for the Undisputed Championship. We were a team...until you decided you wanted a piece of the gold, so you covered H for the title."

Stephanie's face fell. "I knew how much that title meant to you, Chris. You were down, he was down. It wasn't as if I was going to keep the title. You know what I intended to do if HHH had stayed down? I would've given you the first match, and laid down for you. But you never knew that, did you? And I know why you didn't. Because after the match, you assumed everything. You didn't call me and you didn't return my calls."

"How was I supposed to know?"

"You were supposed to trust me!" Stephanie screamed back, and then stopped abruptly as Trish Stratus walked up to Chris, her hand curling around his naked chest possessively.

"Chrissy-poo, what's going on?"

"Nothing, I'm just trying to help Jericho get his head out of his ass so he can actually see reason, which I've recently found to be impossible," Stephanie turned around. No way was she going to stay there and watch Trish with her hands all over Chris, calling him ridiculous nicknames like Chrissy and Chrissy-poo. Honestly! Chrissy-poo. You'd think that would be an insult! Fuming, Stephanie made her way through the hallways.

Trish Stratus watched Stephanie rush away, and smiled. They were already at each other's throats, and she'd done nothing. This would be so much easier than she had expected...