A/N: Thanks for reviewing, everybody! You guys are my inspiration!

Chapter 2: A Little Mystery

Stephanie somehow managed to pull herself together after her father's little visit. She didn't know how she did it, but soon she found herself working diligently on those piles of paperwork stacked high on her desk. Still, the work that she threw herself into wasn't enough to get her mind off of everything that had happened, but it did provide her with at least a small distraction for a short amount of time.

She was so into her work, so distracted and oblivious to anything and everything around her besides her work that she didn't even hear the soft knocking on the door. The knocking got a little louder and a lot more persistent, though, and she was finally forced to tear herself away from her work and notice it.

"Yeah?" she called, still very much distracted. "Come on in."

A timid backstage worker opened the door and stepped into the room. He was carrying some roses and a card. "Excuse me, Ms. McMahon. I don't mean to disturb you, but I was instructed to bring these to you," the worker said in a shaky voice.

Stephanie looked at the worker, who was obviously very intimidated by just her presence. She felt bad about that right away. "What's your name?" she asked him.

"Richie," the worker answered.

"How has your day been, Richie?" she asked cordially.

"It's been pretty nice. I really enjoy working for your father," Richie said.

"Daddy's quite the businessman, huh?" she said, smiling as Richie nodded his head emphatically. "So, um... Who sent me this stuff?"

"I really don't know," he said, walking over to her desk. He carefully set the roses down and handed her the card. "This is a really nice bouquet, in my opinion. It looks expensive."

"Yeah, it does," she agreed. She held out her hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you, Richie. I forgot to say it earlier."

He was surprised by the gesture. "It's ok. It's a real pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. McMahon." He beamed as he shook her hand.

"Call me Stephanie," she said. She looked curiously down at the card in her left hand, then back up at Richie. "Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to open this in private," she told him.

"Not a problem. It's been great talking to you, Ms. McMa...Stephanie," he said, blushing. He gave her a tentative smile, then quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Stephanie saw her name written in fancy cursive across the front of the envelope. It looked so elegant and neat, so royal. Funny. All her life, her father had told her that she was royalty, whether it be a "royal" pain in the butt or his little princess... But that was off the subject. She wondered who'd sent this to her, then realized that there had to be only one explanation...

Chris.

It was so obviously Chris. Over the whole time she had known Chris, even before they had started dating, he had always sent her flowers after any argument that took place between them. Before they had started going out, any time he sent her flowers, he always said that they were a joke, a gag gift of sorts. But they both knew the truth. To anyone else, it might've seemed like the King of the World was playing one of his famous jokes on the Billion Dollar Princess, but that was never the case...

She opened the envelope slowly, carefully, and pulled out the card. It was not a fancy card at all. Rather, it was one of those blank cards, the ones creative people buy to insert their own pictures and messages in. She smiled as she looked at the front of the white card. There was a detailed sketch of her own face on there, and in her opinion, that was a pretty good likeness. Hell, it was like looking into a mirror...

She opened the card up and saw a message scrawled inside. It didn't look like Chris' handwriting but it so obviously had to be him. It just had to. She smiled and her heartbeat sped up as she read the neatly-written cursive there. It read: Dear Princess, I'm so sorry about what happened. I want to make you forget about it, forget that it ever happened. Let me ease the pain for you... You can think of me as your human Tylenol! Meet me for dinner at 8:00 P.M. at The Gardens and wear something pretty. Tell the people at the restaurant that you have a reservation with Peter Thomas (I had to make up a fake name so we could be anonymous). Be there or be square... Ok, who am I kidding? With those luscious curves on your body, you'll never, eeeeever be square!

The card wasn't signed, but she knew it was Chris. It just had to be Chris. Only Chris would make reservations at an expensive restaurant under a fake name just to keep their true identities anonymous. Only Chris would claim to want to be her "human Tylenol". Only Chris would say something completely dorky like "be there or be square". And only Chris would make that dorky "square" comment become some kind of sweet and thoughtful compliment and use one of his catchphrases in the compliment at the same time.

Only Chris.

She smiled, reread the card, then put it carefully back into the envelope it had arrived in and slipped it into her purse. She looked at her watch, which read 4:30 P.M. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I have to meet Chris at 8, and that's three and a half hours away! And I don't have anything to wear!" This called for a necessary excursion to the mall... A shopping trip.

She hurriedly packed her work up, then grabbed all her stuff, including the beautiful bouquet of roses, and quickly left her office. She fairly glided down the hall at breakneck speeds, avoiding any and all obstacles that stood in her way. But the one obstacle that she could not avoid no matter what stopped her as she was about to exit the building. This "obstacle" was waiting for her in the hallway near the exit.

"Steph, where are you going?" Vince asked, wondering why she looked so happy. Hadn't he left her in tears a mere few hours ago? Hell yeah, he had. So why, then, was she smiling?

Stephanie smiled. "I have a date tonight at 8, so I have to go shopping for a hot new outfit."

"You have a date?" he asked, shocked. She nodded. "And who is it with?"

"Daddy, you ask some of the most 'way out there' questions," she said.

"I just want to know who my daughter is going out on a date with," he said tightly. "Is that so very wrong of me?"

She put a hand on his arm and her sparkling laughter filled the air. "I'm a big girl now, Daddy. The little princess can take care of herself...and she definitely doesn't need her father's permission to go on a date with her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

"Since about two years ago, silly. It's not official yet, but Chris and I are just as good as back together."

"Impossible."

"It's only a matter of time... I have to go. I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yes, later." He watched her walk away, pretending to smile like he was happy for her. As soon as she turned the corner and left his field of vision, however, the smile plastered on his face quite quickly disappeared. It was replaced by a frown, and he clenched his teeth. He was, quite literally, pissed.

Who the hell did Chris Jericho think he was, asking his daughter out on a date and getting back together with her without his permission? That wasn't in the damn plan at all. Was Chris really that foolish to go up against the all-powerful Vincent K. McMahon? To go against the wishes of his boss, the man who owned him? Apparently, he was. Well Vince had explicitly warned Chris about what would happen if he didn't go through with this little assignment in its entirety, and now he was skating on some very thin and fragile ice.

Vince decided right then and there to go and pay Chris a little visit for the second time in one day...

It didn't take Vince very long to swagger his way down the halls and to Chris Jericho's locker room. For the second time, he contemplated knocking on the door, but really, what would be the logic in that? He was pissed off at him, and it would be interpreted the wrong way if he decided to knock. Anyway, he was the boss. Therefore, he never knocked for anybody!

Vince burst into the locker room and stalked inside, slamming the door so hard behind him that he thought, with some satisfaction, that he had heard it crack. He walked over to Chris, who was still sitting in the very same spot he'd been sitting in last time: on the steel chair.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Vince demanded to know.

Chris looked up at his irate boss. "I think I'm Chris Jericho, unless you have some substantial evidence to prove that I'm not," he said in a dry voice. "Now what the hell do you want?"

"Don't get smart with me, Chris! I can ruin you!" Vince threatened.

"You've already ruined me, Vince," Chris said. "There's nothing else left for you to ruin... Didn't I tell you that earlier?"

"Yeah, and I believed you, until I talked to Stephanie a few minutes ago!" Vince practically screamed.

"Stephanie? What about Stephanie?" Chris asked, suddenly attentive. He sat up a little straighter, now concerned. "Did something happen to her? Is she ok?"

"How dare you ask her out on a date today? You son of a bitch!" Vince spat.

"What are you talking about? I never asked her out on a date today," Chris said, bewildered. Not that he hadn't wanted to do exactly that. He had yet to see her, and it had been since Friday. Much too long to go without seeing the woman he loved more than life itself. He missed her like crazy, missed everything about her...

"Don't fucking lie to me. I hate liars!" Vince shouted.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Chris shouted back.

"You really don't know?" Vince asked in a quieter voice, raising his eyebrows at the younger man.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Chris snapped. "What's all this business about a date, anyway?"

"I just saw Stephanie leaving, and according to her, she has a date with you tonight at 8," Vince said. "She's under the impression that you two are getting back together tonight."

"I've been sitting here all day, I swear," Chris said, mouth agape. He was absolutely puzzled. "Is this another one of your sadistic jokes, Vince?"

"No," Vince said truthfully. "But if it's not you who she's going on a date with, then who the hell is it? She implied that it was you, referring to you as her boyfriend again."

"Something weird is going on here," Chris said with a sigh. "And I'm not sure if I'm supposed to like it or not."

"Well, I don't like it, damn it! She's supposed to be hurting and grieving and running to me for support!" Vince fumed, stomping his feet.

"Stop throwing a temper tantrum. You're not the one who should be upset here. I am!" Chris exclaimed. "After all, my girlfriend, my Stephy, is going on a date with another man!"

"Your Stephy? No, you misunderstand. She's not yours anymore," Vince said. He turned on his heel and headed for the door, now fully preoccupied. "Now the mystery to be solved is, who the hell is she going on a date with tonight?"

Chris stayed seated on the uncomfortable steel chair and watched the old devil leave. He wondered if perhaps Vince was trying to screw with his mind or something. He didn't put it past the man to do something like that. Lord knows he had done it enough in the past... But the thing that really bugged Chris was the fact that even Vince seemed genuinely confused about this whole thing. Granted, Vince was a pretty good actor, but the man couldn't act that well.

So what the hell was going on?

Who the hell did Stephanie have a date with?

Did she really have a date with someone already?

Was she already over him?

Chris heaved another great sigh before attempting to stand up. Oh, did it hurt to try standing up after sitting on a steel chair in one position for hours on end! His muscles ached at the sudden movement after being at rest for so long, but he just bit his lip and welcomed the physical pain.

At least it helped distract him from the way that his heart was feeling after learning that his Stephy had a date...

A/N: I have most of Chapter 3 written already. I just need to finish writing it and type it up...