Halo Over The Devil's Head

Chapter 10

Chris Jericho ran a hand through his hair as he walked through the hallways of the arena. It had been nearly a week since Stephanie had announced herself as his manager and he was already feeling the effects of it. He shook his head, instantly recalling all of the fans who had asked him if he and Stephanie were together—even though he was positive that most of the internet had already heard that he and Trish were engaged. What was it with that, anyway? Could you not have a manager without being involved with her? Surely there had been several strictly business relationships…right? 'Nope,' he thought to himself, sighing. He couldn't think of one that didn't have 'romance' written all over it. Well, there was Trish, Albert and Test…but that was just creepy.

"Hey Chris!"

Chris turned to see Stephanie approaching him, smiling. He looked her up and down quickly, still wearing off the shock of her dramatic change of style. Not that he was complaining. 'I'm engaged; not dead,' he reasoned to himself. "Hi Steph," he greeted.

She fell into step beside him. They hadn't talked since the last RAW show. "So how's your week been?"

"Great," Chris bit the inside of his cheek as he spit out the lie. "You?" The truth was, what with all these people asking if he was involved with Stephanie, he'd become increasingly frustrated. Not to mention the 'talk' that he'd had with Trish. Yeah, she'd said that she wasn't bothered by it at all…but the way she said it made it sound like poison. He sighed. The last thing he needed was Trish doubting him.

Stephanie shrugged. "Can't complain," she answered. They were silent for a few moments before she spoke again. "So what's up on the schedule for today?"

"You're supposed to be my manager," he replied, looking over at her with raised eyebrows.

Stephanie leveled him with a blank stare. "And I was informed you'd been mindlessly wandering around the building for the past two hours."

"It was not two hours," Chris said defensively, looking down at his watch. Whoa…so maybe it had.

Smiling, Stephanie rephrased her question, "Do you have a match?"

Chris pulled a crumpled schedule out of his pocket. He had already memorized it, but he didn't want Stephanie to know he had been that bored. "Me and a partner of my choosing versus Rosey and Jamal."

"Have anyone in mind?" Stephanie asked.

Chris sighed. "No, not really."

"Any friends?" Stephanie continued.

Chris looked insulted. "Of course I have friends!" he exclaimed. Stephanie stopped, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay, fine. No, I don't know anyone who would be willing to."

Stephanie smiled. "I know the perfect person." Chris raised his eyebrows, willing her to continue, but she didn't. She shook her head with a smile. "You'll see," she said mysteriously. He rolled his eyes.

"Watch out for Rico while you're out there," Chris said, feeling compelled to make sure she was safe out there.

"I can take him," Stephanie said with confidence. She began to walk again but stopped when she realized that Chris wasn't with her. "What?"

"Steph… Look, you're good at a lot of stuff…but wrestling isn't your forte."

Her eyes darkened, and Chris closed his eyes, immediately knowing that he had gone the wrong way about this. "Excuse me?" she said, her tone energized. "What did you just say?" He was silent. "I can wrestle just fine, thank you."

Chris sighed. "Maybe… Maybe Trish should just come out with me." The minute he suggested it was the minute he knew he crossed the line. Still, Chris couldn't get Trish's words out of his head: "If you need a manager, why didn't you tell me? I don't have anything against Stephanie, Chris, but we're engaged. People are going to talk if Stephanie's your manager and I'm not. And, in all seriousness, Chris… She's not a wrestler, she's a brain, a suit. That doesn't do you any good when you're out in the ring."

"Oh," Stephanie whispered, the energy inside of her dissolving. "Oh…" she repeated. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable and stupid. "Okay then," she swallowed tightly.

"Look, Steph… It's just that Trish, she's a wrestler. She can handle this."

Stephanie glared at him. "And what?" she shouted, all of her anger snapping inside of her. "I can't?! I can handle myself more than that bitch can!" the words slipped her mouth, and the two stood in an awkward silence, anger splitting through the air.

"What?" Chris said, his voice low.

"I'm sorry Chris, but it's true," Stephanie said. She wouldn't go back on her word now. "She almost split up my family. She was fucking my father," Chris looked away, "and helping him drug my mother and throwing it in my face," Stephanie caught his eye, "Yeah, she might have changed, but no one ever completely turns into something else."

"Then I guess you're still a dirty trash-bag ho," Chris replied heatedly and Stephanie froze, her mouth open. "And judging by what I just heard, you're still a thoughtless bitch."

"And you're still the arrogant jackass!" Stephanie screamed, poking him in the chest. Both she and Chris were far past their limits of anger.

"And you still try and open your legs to get into this company!" Chris retorted.

Stephanie leaned backwards, freezing. She knew he was referring to how she'd approached him…and it hurt. She could feel the knife twisting in her heart and tears filled her eyes. Why was she fighting to have the love of this man? Stephanie felt her chin begin to tremble. "Is that… Is that what you think, then?" she said, trying her hardest to keep her voice steady.

"Steph, no," Chris said, reaching out to her. She stepped out of his reach. He looked at her, feeling immensely guilty. She looked like she was about to cry. Stephanie McMahon never cried. How deep had he cut her with those last words? How much had he hurt her?

Stephanie shook her head and walked backwards, her eyes still on his. "No…" she whispered, "I'm going. Trash-bag hoes should stay home, right?" she said, her voice monotone.

"I didn't mean it, Steph…"

"No," she repeated, her voice wavering. "You meant it or you wouldn't have said it. Go tell Trish and tell her that she's your new manager," she turned but then looked back. "And for the record, I'm taking nothing back," her eyes narrowed and a tear threatened to spill down her face. It was an image that Chris never would be able to erase from his mind; the defensive anger on her face, the hurt swelling her eyes and the single tear beginning to fall. And he…he had caused it all. "Trish is a bitch," she said vehemently, "And you…" her upper lip curled in spite, but it didn't reach her eyes. She looked hurt, not hateful, which hurt him even more. She didn't hate him, even after what he said. "…you're still the jackass," she said. Stephanie turned on her heel, walking out steadily. If Chris had been able to see her face, he would've seen the tears running down her face and marring her make-up.

Chris swore to himself and sat on a nearby folding chair, jerking his head against the wall. "How stupid could I be?" he hissed to himself and dropped his head in his hands. Christ… Stephanie was right.

He really was a jackass.

Author's Note: I hope you guys liked this! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Keep reviewing and I'll keep updating! :)