A/N: Since it's been awhile since I last updated, I made this chapter considerably longer then my normal chapters. Hope you enjoy! And as always, thanks for the reviews. You know how much they motivate me.

Chapter 8
Any signs of Stacy's anxieties were completely washed away by midnight. A brilliant smile replaced her somber gaze, and laughter replaced her sighs. And as Chris watched her from his bar stool, he couldn't have been happier that he had invited her out.

"Your little friend stole my girlfriend," Dave quipped from beside him.

Chris pulled his gaze away, turning to face him. His eyes rolled when Dave scowled at him. He glanced back out to the dance floor, a smile touching his lips. Stacy and Stephanie were the center of attention, dancing like crazy as a fast-paced hip hop song blared through the bar's speakers. That was the Stacy he knew.

"Get over it," Chris retorted, sipping his beer. "Your ass wouldn't be out there anyway."

Dave nodded, "Yeah well, that's 'cause I hate to dance." He turned his back to the dance floor and the girls, and picked up the bottle he was nursing.

"Hate to dance… or can't dance?" Chris inquired, a very Jericho-like gleam in his crystal eyes.

Dave lifted his head from his beer. A wave of laughter erupted from his throat as he shook his head.

"You kiddin' me?" he challenged Chris boldly. His head shook again. "I could out-dance you any night of the fuckin' week, man."

Dave's confident claim amused Chris so much he nearly spit his beer all over the bar top. Wiping a stray blonde hair away from his face, he rested his elbow on the back of his barstool, his brow raising suggestively. He didn't know what Dave was smoking, but there was no way in hell he could dance better than him. He grinned wildly, dollar signs flashing through his eyes.

"Wanna bet?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dave gave him a grunt, shaking his head in disbelief. Chris never ceased to amaze him. Rich as hell, and yet he was always looking to make a cheap buck.

"No thanks," he declined the offer. "I'm not prancin' around a dance floor with you just to prove a point."

Chris laughed, sipping his beer, "No balls." He smiled to himself, knowing full well his snide remark would rile his friend up. As he anticipated, Dave slammed his beer down. Determination flared through his eyes.

"Fine," he quipped. "A hundred bucks."

Chris gave him a satisfied nod, and both men rose from their seats. Chris eagerly bounded towards the dance floor, Dave sauntering a few steps behind him. His eyes briefly scanned the room in search of a way out. He knew damn well Chris was a better dancer then him. He couldn't dance for shit. He just wanted the loud-mouthed Canadian to shut the hell up. Now he was about to lose a hundred bucks to an obnoxious wannabe rock star.

The solution to his dance floor dilemma came moments later, as the seat of people crammed together suddenly split. Stephanie emerged from the crowd, dragging an extremely un-sober looking Stacy with her. Dave and Chris paused, and when the two ladies approached them, it became clear why Stephanie was dragging the taller woman.

"She's done," Stephanie said, giggling as she tightened her grasp on Stacy's tiny waist. "She's out there twirling in circles after she downed all sorts of liquor and I don't want her pukin' all over someone." The brunette gasped when a slender finger pressed against her lips, smearing gloss onto her chin.

"You're so negative!" Stacy hiccupped, pulling her hand away from Stephanie's face. "I was fine. I coulda got that guy's number if you didn't yank me outta there." When her bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout, both Dave and Stephanie laughed.

"Stace, drunk is cute. Wasted outta your mind is embarrassing," Stephanie tried her best to explain, giving Stacy a pat on the back. Her attention focused on the men beside them. "We should get her back to the hotel."

Dave nodded and reached for Stacy's free arm, but Chris cut him off. He pulled Stacy to him, stumbling a bit as she happily threw her weight at him.

"I'll take her. You guys should stay," he insisted, linking his arm around her middle.

Stephanie glanced at her boyfriend and was met with an indifferent shrug. She looked back at Chris, knowing that he could handle the simple task of returning Stacy to her hotel room. Placing her arm around his neck, Chris mouthed a goodbye to their friends.

"Come on, Keibs, lets get you outta here," he called over the loud music. The pair headed for the door, guided by Chris's steps.

"Chrissy," Stacy slurred. Chris laughed, until he saw the rather ill expression on her pretty face. "I don't feel so good…"

Chris smirked, but his pace quickened a little. "You're gonna be fun to deal with tomorrow."

Back inside, Dave slung his arm over Stephanie's shoulder, watching the pair of blondes disappear. He smiled, relieved that Chris had seemingly forgotten their little wager. Stephanie caught his gaze, and she poked him in the gut, staring up at him curiously.

"I bet Jericho a hundred bucks that I could out-dance him," he answered her unspoken question. Her response was an abrupt, sardonic laugh. "What?" His eyes lit up with amusement.

Stephanie shook her head, "A dance contest? Come on, babe, you couldn't two step to save your life. And everyone can two step."

Removing his arm from around her, he stepped back, feigning offense to her comment.

"Damn, Steph, I know I can't dance," he admitted. "You don't gotta be so mean about it." She elbowed his ribcage playfully, rising to her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Linking her fingers with his, she led him towards the bar. "Haven't you been drinkin' long enough?" he joked, pressing his free hand to the small of her back.

Stephanie whipped her head around, her eyes narrowing. "Are you kidding? I spent the entire night making sure Stace didn't fall on her ass. I barely drank a thing," she told him. She paused for a moment, licking her parched lips. "All this babysitting shit made me thirsty. I need a martini."

Dave pulled her chair out and smiled. He flagged down the nearest bartender, ordering their drinks.

"Shane, you can't let Dad get to you. He's impossible to please sometimes," Stephanie reasoned. Though they were supposed to be discussing creative and financial issues, she had spent the last half hour listening to her brother gripe about his latest rift with Vince.

"Yeah, unless your name's Stephanie…" Shane spat bitterly.

Anger quickly flushed Stephanie's face. He knew better then to bring up such a touchy subject. The two of them were never in agreement where their father was concerned, and she accepted that they never would be. Unfortunately, Shane couldn't seem to let it go.

"We've discussed that a million times…" she warned, her voice coming dangerously close to a hiss.

Shane's expression didn't change. His scowl deepened, his forehead wrinkling.

"Easy for you to say, Steph. I mean, you are the Chosen One," he muttered, his eyes drifting to the floor.

"Ya know what, Shane, grow the fuck up." Stephanie threw her pen down violently, and then rested her hands flat on the desk. "If you're really that pissed that Daddy isn't happy with the website, then grow a pair and tell him that. I'm not gonna be your verbal punching bag."

Surprise flooded Shane's face following his sister's outburst. He exhaled heavily, sinking back into his chair. Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, he sighed.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I know this has nothing to do with you. It's just…" He trailed off, allowing a yawn to slip from his mouth.

Stephanie took notice of Shane's yawn, and of the dark circles that formed under his eyes. She frowned, noting that his irritability had become a regular occurrence as of late.

"Shane, I know this isn't about Dad making some rude comment to you," she said carefully. When he lifted his eyes from the carpet, she continued. "What's goin' on with you? You've been so out of it… I know something's up."

Despite a strong effort to prevent it, Shane's jaw hung open. He wanted so terribly to open up to Stephanie. He wanted to explain his heartache and tell her why he hadn't slept or eaten in a week. But he couldn't. He couldn't put the weight of his deeds on her shoulders.

"I'm real burnt out, Steph," he said. Stephanie gave him a hard look. She knew he was lying, but his expressive eyes begged her to overlook that fact. "I think I need a vacation."

You are such a fuckin' liar, Stephanie thought as she stared him down. It almost offended her that Shane would feed her such a bullshit lie. Still, as much as it pained her, she did the only thing she could do. She accepted his response with an understanding nod.

"I'll talk to Dad," she assured him, mustering up a crooked smile.

Shane nodded graciously. A knock at the door interrupted the tense silence that rapidly engulfed the room.

"Babe, do you have any…" Dave's deep voice carried across the office, but faded the moment he noticed that Stephanie was not alone. It didn't take very long for him to note the uncomfortable glanced being tossed between the McMahon siblings. "…Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

He backed his way out the door, but Stephanie waved him back in.

"It's nothing important," she insisted when he shot her a skeptical look. "What do you need?"

Dave hesitated, his feet remaining firmly planted in the carpet. Only when Shane turned and nodded the okay did he step into the room.

"Just wonderin' if you had any Advil," Dave explained, the smile returning to his face. "Stace isn't takin' the hangover thing too well. She's drivin' me and Chris up a wall. Well, I think he likes it… but it's annoying the hell out of me."

Stephanie cracked a smile as well, shaking her head. "I told her to call it quits after the fifth shot she took, but she just wouldn't listen," she laughed as she slid her chair away from the desk, reaching into the bag she tossed on the floor. "I didn't wanna party anyway," she mumbled into her bag.

"Oh come on, Steph, I practically had to sedate you when you heard she was comin', you were so damn excited," he reminded her, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it was nice to see her get out and have fun for once. I haven't seen her smile so much in the longest time," she happily admitted. Leaning over further, she dug through the mess of items in her highly unorganized bag. "I know they're in here somewhere…"

Dave grinned as he watched Stephanie frantically searching her belongings. Realizing the task of locating aspirin in that heap could take awhile, he pulled a chair up beside Shane and plopped down in it.

"Too bad she won't remember any of it. That girl cannot hold her liquor," he said with a hearty laugh, clips of Stacy stumbling off the dance floor fresh in his mind. "Word of advice," he said, nudging Shane's shoulder. "If you're ever out drinkin' with Keibler, stop her after three. That's her max."

Shane smiled weakly. "I… I'll keep that in mind," he said, quickly darting his head away. You're wrong, the voice in his head sounded off. Three for tequila, four for daiquiris. On a long night out, she can handle six Coronas. He bit his lip, battling a strong urge to correct Dave's error. Shane glanced back at him, noticing the strange look he was being given. He looked away again, fidgeting in his chair. He could feel the cold sweat soaking his back. Come on, Steph…

"Here it is!" she exclaimed, pills rattling as she pulled the bottle from the bottom of her bag. Rising from her seat, she brought the aspirin to Dave, who had also stood.

"Thanks sweetheart," he said, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. He took the Advil with one hand, patting Shane's shoulder with the other. "See ya later, man."

Shane waved, all of a sudden feeling dizzy. She was already going out again? Not only that, she was enjoying herself? He rarely got out of bed, and on the instances where he was forced to, he did so miserably. Could she be moving on already? So soon?

By the time Stephanie reached her desk and was seated again, she noticed that Shane too made a run for the door. "Where are you going?" she called after him, concern flooding her features. "Shane…"

His skin was ghostly pale as he stared helplessly back at her. He shrugged his shoulders, gripping the doorknob.

"Tell Dad I'm starting my vacation right away," he said. And with that, he exited the room, leaving his wide eyed sister behind.