A/N: I know my timing's regrettably off, since the real Stacy/Randy storyline is now ancient history, but I hope that wouldn't make you love my story any less. It pains me to say that this is the end, but I want you all to know how great each and every one of your reviews has made me feel, and writing this story was an even greater experience thanks to all of you. So to everyone who's read and loved this story, thank you all so very much!

All my love,

Cold-Zephyr

P.S. Right now I'm out of ideas, so if you have any stories you'd want to see me write, then by all means, say so. I'm open to a challenge :)

Chapter 15: An Improvised Storyline (Stacy's POV)

I'd finally decided that this wasn't something I was gonna take lying down, so on the dreaded Monday night, I made my way to Bischoff's office, accompanied by Lita, Shane, Trish and Chris Jericho.

"And what brings you all here?" Bischoff asked, looking slightly surprised.

Lita stepped forward. "My friend Stacy here has something to say." She looked at me. "Don't you, Stace?"

"Y-yeah," I stuttered.

Mr. Bischoff peered at me sternly through his reading glasses.

"I can't do this storyline with Tyson," I finally blurted out.

"Why not? Has he been harming you in any way?"

I shook my head, but found myself lost for words.

"Well, I don't see any reason…"

"Ah, but there is!" Trish butted in.

"Then what is it?"

She looked at me, waiting for me to just say it, but I was still speechless. "Well, if you won't say it, then I will: Stacy's in love with Randy. You couldn't possibly stick her with anyone else when she's feeling this way, could you? Please, just cancel the storyline." I nodded vigorously.

Bischoff sighed. "Oh Stacy, if you'd only told me sooner. It's too late now, the show's already started. I wish I could help you, I really do."

I looked glumly at the rest of them. "Well guys, I guess that's that."

"Bisch, couldn't you just make some last minute changes?" Shane suggested.

"Afraid not," Bischoff replied. "Stacy's segment is on in twenty minutes. I'm really sorry."

"Thanks for trying to help me, guys. I appreciate the effort," I said before flopping down on the couch until the dreaded moment arrived when I had to begin my storyline. From where I sat I could see Chris Benoit walking through the entrance followed by a man in a coat and hat. Huh, I didn't think non-crewmemberswere allowed backstage.

Chris Jericho eyed Tyson's dressing room door, and then the couch, and then the door again, and then the other items in the area (specifically a mop in the corner, a table full of refreshments, and a pile of luggage by the wall), and smiled, a mischievous gleam twinkling in his eye.

"What are you smiling about?" Trish asked him, an eyebrow raised.

"Guys, I have a plan. If I'm not mistaken, Tomko's in there, right?" He pointed towards the door that read 'Tyson Tomko'.

"Well, duh," Lita replied.

Jericho darted towards the mop and ran towards the dressing room, securing it between the doorknob and the door in such a way that whoever was inside wouldn't be able to open it.

He then made a beeline for the refreshments table. "C'mon, Helms, help me out here!"

"It's a crazy plan, Jericho," Shane said, grinning, "but it just might work." Together, they lifted the entire table and set it down right in front of Tyson's door. Trish and Lita grabbed the heavy luggage and followed them, and I got off the couch and helped Shane dragthe couch itselftowards the door.

"This is all really nice of you, guys," I told them, "but it won't keep Tyson away forever."

Lita put an arm around me. "Hey, it buys you time. At least you'd have one more Tomko-free week," she said cheerily.

I tried my best to smile, but I knew that all these efforts were futile since Randy most probably wouldn't show up.

I was absently going through the motions during the entire Bra and Panties match, and Victoria won easily. Before she even had the chance to celebrate her victory, a very furious Tyson Tomko burst through the curtain. Shit---I knew he could break through our makeshift barricade!

Tyson was livid. Victoria got the hell out of there, and I stood in the middle of the ring not knowing what to do. For a second I considered following suit, but I risked getting fired by Bischoff for not following the original script, so instead I remained where I was, feeling a little chilly in only my underwear.

He was entering the ring, and he still looked mad. I looked nervously around me as the crowd started to boo. Before I could make another move, he grabbed me by my arms and yanked me towards him, with only three centimeters of space between our faces. I don't want to kiss this ugly goat. But I don't want to disobey Bischoff and lose my job.

Oh, fuck it…I'll be fired anyway for attempting to sabotage the whole thing by blocking the dressing room door earlier tonight. I've got nothing left to lose.

I slapped him in the face as hard as I could and got the hell out of there, quickly running up the ramp and running away from my career. At least I wasn't forced to do something I didn't want to do, and for now, that's what's most important. No regrets. I'm gonna run though that curtain and head straight for the exit, and no one's gonna stop me.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't realize that there was someone right in front of me, blocking the curtain, and as a result I ran straight into his open arms. I looked up. It was the mysterious man in the coat and hat from earlier.

Damn, I should've known…Tyson had called for reinforcements. I feel so stupid.

The distance between myself and the curtain kept growing and growing as the man dragged me to the ring with an inescapable hammerlock hold on me. My blood started boiling as Tyson's despicable laughter rang through my ears, drowning out my screams of "Let me go!". The crowd booed lustily.

Tyson approached us as we stood outside the ring and extended his hand for the man in the coat and hat to shake, a smug smirk on his face. The man held on to my wrist as he neared Tyson, when to my shock (and the audience's) he, instead of shaking Tyson's hand…

…punched him straight across the face, knocking him out cold.

The mysterious man faced me and removed his coat to cover me up. I took of his hat, and…it's the second shocker of the night.

"RANDY?"

He smiled. "Miss me?"

"Like crazy," I choked as I wrapped my arms around him. I wasn't going to let the chance slip away this time. No more holding back. I pulled back and looked right up into his deep blue eyes. "I've wanted to say this for so long…well, I love you, Randy."

"And I love you, Stacy," he told me, and at that moment I couldn't be happier. "Flat chest and all." The familiar smarmy grin I'd missed so much was back.

"You jerk," I giggled and swatted at him playfully, when he grabbed my wrist…and kissed me.

For real this time.

"You know, we have the WWE execs to thank for this. After all, they stuck me with you," I said with a smile as he swept me off my feet and into his arms and carried me up the ramp.

"And they stuck me with you, and now you'll be stuck with me all the days of your life."

"Sounds good to me," I laughed, and kissed him again, with the audience cheering in approval.

We were greeted by the pudgy backstage coordinator the moment we got through the curtain, and he was absolutely ecstatic. "I smell ratings! Excellent work, you two…this storyline is far from over!"

We looked at each other, then at him. "Well," we replied together, "we'd be happy to do it!"

-FIN-