"Why did we have to come here?"
"Because I need to loosen up before my date tonight," Chris answered.
"But why here? Snooks, anywhere else, come on, let's go to the arcade, and I can kick your ass at skee-ball again, you just don't have the right flow for that game," she said, partly whining, partly demanding.
"We'll play skee-ball afterwards," he told her, as if he were talking to a child, but that's what she was acting like right now.
"But I don't even know how to do this, I'll suck at it and then I'll fall flat on my face and break my nose, and I'll look like Marcia Brady and nobody will want to go to the prom with me!"
"I'll go to the prom with you," he said idly, "Pad up."
"Why do I have to wear pads?"
"Stephers, stop whining and just put the pads on, we're not going to be doing anything too hard for you."
"I'm still going to fall flat on my face, or even worse on my butt and then the blade from my ice skate will slice into my arm and I'll get blood on everything and then I'll get gangrene and have to have my arm amputated and then when they take my poor arm off, I'm going to grab it and beat you with it."
"Ok, I'll let you beat me with your arm alright," he said, "But you're still doing this. Come on, I only rented the rink for a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours," Stephanie groaned as she followed Chris out of the locker room and into the rink.
She clumsily walked over to the side of the rink, her skates feeling incredibly heavy and clunky. She grabbed her hockey stick as Chris got on the ice an did a couple of laps around the ice. Stephanie watched him with disdain. Usually he would go skating with one of the guys or something, doing the hockey thing, but they had all bee unavailable so she got suckered into it. Now she was standing there, padded up to the nines and about to get her first hockey lesson ever.
Chris skated over and quickly stopped, sending up a little ice on his stop. Stephanie looked at him as he reached over to grab a couple of helmets hanging on some hooks. Stephanie looked at Chris disdainfully, wondering what he was going to do with her. He took the smaller of the helmets and put it on top of her head. It went over her eyes a little bit and she pushed it back so that she could see him. Chris had a silly grin on her face and she frowned deeply.
"I look like an idiot. I look like I somehow wandered into a sporting goods store and fell into the entire hockey section," she complained.
"You look sexy," he said, putting his own helmet on, "So come on and let's play."
"Snooks, isn't the blonde bombshell a hockey fan, wouldn't this have been a nice first date, you know, playing hockey, maybe having a romantic dinner in the middle of the ice?"
"No, because I want to just have fun, I'd be too nervous around her to have fun."
"Fine, but I was going to see Randy today."
"The Dreamboat can wait," he told her, "Come on Stephers, the clock is ticking!"
She gingerly stepped onto the ice, feeling weighed down by all the pads that she was wearing. Chris had insisted they take the utmost precaution and he had spent lots of money getting her all these pads. What a fool, she thought to herself, like she'd ever play hockey again ever. She put her other foot on the ice, trying to maintain her balance as she held onto the side of the rink.
"Stephers, skate out here," Chris said from the middle of the rink.
"Snooks, you're under the false impression that I would even know how to skate in these things. Sure if you had me in a cute little skirt and pretty pink ice skates I might be doing triple axles out there right now, but I'm in a freaking hockey uniform!"
Chris skated over to her and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her forcefully out onto the ice with no safety of the sides to help her. She squealed as she tried to maintain her balance, letting Chris pull her, and hoping that she wouldn't take a monumental fall. Chris was nice enough to skate slower for her. He took her over to a blue line on the ice and stopped her, letting her stop before letting her go.
"This is the blue line," he said, indicating towards the ice.
"Wow, and it's blue, who thought of that!"
"Stephers..."
"Ok, fine, what next Mr. Jericho, I hope you're not going to keep me after school and punish me," she said blinking innocently.
"Ok, well between here and the goal is the attack zone, so you want to try and get it in the goal."
"What, that little black thing."
"You don't--"
"I know it's the puck," she said, "You have forced me to watch it with you before, remember."
"Ok, yeah, I remember," he said, "So let's shoot around."
"Why am I wearing these pads? You're not."
"Because I don't want you falling and then blaming me and complaining for the rest of our lives that I caused you to get hurt, I'd never hear the end of it. You'd call me at three in the morning saying how I got you hurt thirty years ago and then I'd never be able to live with myself and you'd drive me to drink, do you want me to drink and die a premature death Stephers, is that what you really want!"
"Well, when you put it like that...I'd want you to die quick and painless," she said, "So come on, show me how to skate and shoot and make goals and stuff. And then we can buy me one of those goalie masks that are all intimidating. I want mine to have a picture of...Hunter on it, that way I can scare everyone with his face on my mask!"
"We don't want to give anyone heart attacks Stephers."
They spent the next couple of hours, shooting around and Chris was nice and relaxed by the time they got back to the hotel. They went up to Chris's room where he went to take a shower. Stephanie took a shower as well, but finished up before him and went into his room via the adjoining door. She plopped herself down on his bed and grabbed the remote, flipping through the stations trying to find something decent to watch. She was still flipping when Chris came out of the bathroom, a towel on his waist.
"You know what I find funny?"
"Um...that time Goldberg fell doing that karate kick during his entrance?" Chris suggested.
Stephanie snorted, "That WAS funny, oh look at me, I'm karate Bill, oops, fell down, can I try that again?"
"Ok, but I'm guessing that wasn't it."
"No, I was just watching Full House, and isn't it funny how Bob Saget was like the star at the beginning, but then he got shafted for John Stamos like half way through. It just goes to show you that hair is everything."
"But in the end it only paid if you were an Olsen twin."
"Oh yeah, those little girls or whatever," Stephanie said, tapping her chin, "With the cheesy like stuff and stuff."
"Oh and that other...stuff right?"
"Yeah, with the stuff."
"That they did stuff with, using the stuff."
"Yeah, good stuff," Stephanie said thoughtfully, "Is that what you're wearing to your date?"
He looked down, "Yeah, I figured that towels were all the rage nowadays. Nothing says sexy like terrycloth."
"I know, I mean, what do you think my number one turn on is?"
"I thought it was satin," he told her.
"Oh yeah, that too, but terrycloth, man alive, sexy stuff."
"Remind me to make note of that later."
"I'll write it down in my diary right now," she said, hopping up and pretending to run into the room. Chris grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back, she gave him a look and a smile, "Snooks, is this your way of trying to hit on me...in your towel no less."
"You have to help me decide what to wear."
"Clothes, ok, are we done here?"
"Not helping," he said, "What should I wear? I want it to say 'hey, I'm cool,' and not, 'hey, I'm a loser."
"Then I will suggest a shirt that says on it, 'Hey, I'm cool," I mean, what says that better than a shirt that says that?"
"I'm going with my black polo and khaki pants," he said, grabbing the aforementioned clothes.
"Wear silk boxers, that way you're all comfy during the date, and then you won't get a wedgie or anything, cause God forbid you get one of those, you might never live it down."
"I don't think I have any of those with me," he said, "So I guess I'll have to go with regular cotton boxers."
"Too bad," she shrugged, "But when you get that wedgie later, don't say I didn't warn you Snooks."
"I'll think of you then," he said as he walked back into the bathroom to get changed.
He came out a few minutes later, looking clean-shaved and well-dressed. Stephanie kneeled up on the bed as he came over. She adjusted his collar for him and then brushed invisible dust off of his shirt. He smiled and grabbed his wallet and phone before telling Stephanie good-bye and that he'd see her later. He walked to the elevator and rode two floors down to Trish's room, knocking on her door when he arrived. She answered the door and almost took his breath away.
"Wow, you are looking incredible," Chris said before he even said hello.
"Thanks Chris, are you ready to go?"
"Well, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't, I'd be up in my room having Stephanie inspect me and make sure that I didn't have a sock stuck to my ass or something. She's good at spotting socks."
"Do you and Stephanie share a room?"
"Oh yeah, we share a bed too, and when it's really cold, I let her have all the covers," he said, "I'm kidding of course, it's my sense of humor that has sustained me through difficult times and awkward situations. There's nothing like a good joke to break the awkward silences."
She laughed and he dared to take her hand in his. When she let him hold her hand, a smile involuntarily came over his face and he looked away from her, not letting her see the stupid blush that was coming over his cheek. They went down to his car and he drove them to a nice little, Italian place. Trish noticed that Chris was being very gentlemanly to her, and she had to appreciate it just a little.
"So, you and Stephanie, you've been friends for how long?"
"Since the night I joined the company," he told her, "See, she spilled hot chocolate on me and she kept apologizing and following me around, apologizing and I haven't been able to get rid of her."
Trish laughed, "The way you two act around each other, you'd think that you'd been friends since you were little kids."
"Yeah, we get that a lot. If I had been friends with Stephanie when we were little, I don't know, I'd probably have been institutionalized by now. Stephanie is the most outgoing person I've ever known, excluding myself, I think we create a good balance, like those scales they always show on the court shows, with the lady."
"I'm sorry I thought you two were together," she told him, "If I had known that you two weren't together, I wouldn't have turned you down like I did."
"Don't worry about it," he said, shrugging it off now, forgetting how hurt he had been back then, "I just ran to Stephanie and she made it all better. See, she came up with this way to make a band-aid that fits on those emotional cuts."
"She's really something."
"Yeah, she's something, a crazy something, but she's something."
"I don't think I have any friends like that in the business."
Chris wanted to be that friend to her. As stupid as that sounded, he wanted to be there for her, and be with her. He couldn't help it, sitting there across from her and thinking that she was perfect for him. She kept him occupied the entire night and almost didn't want the night to end. They ended up talking at the table for a couple of hours, just about anything and everything.
When Chris walked into the room later that evening, he felt like he was floating on air. Stephanie gave him the oddest look as she stood up to grab the food he had in his hands. She inhaled from the bag deeply and smile, Italian, this was going to be good. She just had to wait for Chris to calm down.
"Well, considering that I think you're officially in orbit, I'm saying it went well."
"Better."
"Better?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Like better in the sense that double stuff Oreos are better than regular Oreos?"
"No, like how milk and cookies is better than just cookies."
"Oh wow, so its like a million, bajillion times better, I knew that once you got that crazy girl in your grasp that you'd be all happy and stuff. I predicted it, I was like psychic about it. So psychic about it that I didn't even tell you that I was psychic about it because I just knew that you wouldn't be listening because you are thinking about the blonde bombshell."
"What was that Stephers?"
"Yup, I was right, I am SO psychic," she said, digging into the lasagna that Chris had picked up for her, "He's gone ladies and gentlemen, Chris Jericho has left the building. No, no, I'm sorry, he won't be accepting any autographs, I don't think you got the message that he left the building."
"Hmm?"
Stephanie just shook her head and continued eating as Chris collapsed on the bed, his hands outstretched and a stupid grin on his face. She was about to throw some lasagna on his face to get him out of this stupid daze he was in, but she thought she'd just let him be for now. She could grill him for details later. And she would. She just kept eating and mumbled to herself.
"Yup, he had a good time."
"Because I need to loosen up before my date tonight," Chris answered.
"But why here? Snooks, anywhere else, come on, let's go to the arcade, and I can kick your ass at skee-ball again, you just don't have the right flow for that game," she said, partly whining, partly demanding.
"We'll play skee-ball afterwards," he told her, as if he were talking to a child, but that's what she was acting like right now.
"But I don't even know how to do this, I'll suck at it and then I'll fall flat on my face and break my nose, and I'll look like Marcia Brady and nobody will want to go to the prom with me!"
"I'll go to the prom with you," he said idly, "Pad up."
"Why do I have to wear pads?"
"Stephers, stop whining and just put the pads on, we're not going to be doing anything too hard for you."
"I'm still going to fall flat on my face, or even worse on my butt and then the blade from my ice skate will slice into my arm and I'll get blood on everything and then I'll get gangrene and have to have my arm amputated and then when they take my poor arm off, I'm going to grab it and beat you with it."
"Ok, I'll let you beat me with your arm alright," he said, "But you're still doing this. Come on, I only rented the rink for a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours," Stephanie groaned as she followed Chris out of the locker room and into the rink.
She clumsily walked over to the side of the rink, her skates feeling incredibly heavy and clunky. She grabbed her hockey stick as Chris got on the ice an did a couple of laps around the ice. Stephanie watched him with disdain. Usually he would go skating with one of the guys or something, doing the hockey thing, but they had all bee unavailable so she got suckered into it. Now she was standing there, padded up to the nines and about to get her first hockey lesson ever.
Chris skated over and quickly stopped, sending up a little ice on his stop. Stephanie looked at him as he reached over to grab a couple of helmets hanging on some hooks. Stephanie looked at Chris disdainfully, wondering what he was going to do with her. He took the smaller of the helmets and put it on top of her head. It went over her eyes a little bit and she pushed it back so that she could see him. Chris had a silly grin on her face and she frowned deeply.
"I look like an idiot. I look like I somehow wandered into a sporting goods store and fell into the entire hockey section," she complained.
"You look sexy," he said, putting his own helmet on, "So come on and let's play."
"Snooks, isn't the blonde bombshell a hockey fan, wouldn't this have been a nice first date, you know, playing hockey, maybe having a romantic dinner in the middle of the ice?"
"No, because I want to just have fun, I'd be too nervous around her to have fun."
"Fine, but I was going to see Randy today."
"The Dreamboat can wait," he told her, "Come on Stephers, the clock is ticking!"
She gingerly stepped onto the ice, feeling weighed down by all the pads that she was wearing. Chris had insisted they take the utmost precaution and he had spent lots of money getting her all these pads. What a fool, she thought to herself, like she'd ever play hockey again ever. She put her other foot on the ice, trying to maintain her balance as she held onto the side of the rink.
"Stephers, skate out here," Chris said from the middle of the rink.
"Snooks, you're under the false impression that I would even know how to skate in these things. Sure if you had me in a cute little skirt and pretty pink ice skates I might be doing triple axles out there right now, but I'm in a freaking hockey uniform!"
Chris skated over to her and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her forcefully out onto the ice with no safety of the sides to help her. She squealed as she tried to maintain her balance, letting Chris pull her, and hoping that she wouldn't take a monumental fall. Chris was nice enough to skate slower for her. He took her over to a blue line on the ice and stopped her, letting her stop before letting her go.
"This is the blue line," he said, indicating towards the ice.
"Wow, and it's blue, who thought of that!"
"Stephers..."
"Ok, fine, what next Mr. Jericho, I hope you're not going to keep me after school and punish me," she said blinking innocently.
"Ok, well between here and the goal is the attack zone, so you want to try and get it in the goal."
"What, that little black thing."
"You don't--"
"I know it's the puck," she said, "You have forced me to watch it with you before, remember."
"Ok, yeah, I remember," he said, "So let's shoot around."
"Why am I wearing these pads? You're not."
"Because I don't want you falling and then blaming me and complaining for the rest of our lives that I caused you to get hurt, I'd never hear the end of it. You'd call me at three in the morning saying how I got you hurt thirty years ago and then I'd never be able to live with myself and you'd drive me to drink, do you want me to drink and die a premature death Stephers, is that what you really want!"
"Well, when you put it like that...I'd want you to die quick and painless," she said, "So come on, show me how to skate and shoot and make goals and stuff. And then we can buy me one of those goalie masks that are all intimidating. I want mine to have a picture of...Hunter on it, that way I can scare everyone with his face on my mask!"
"We don't want to give anyone heart attacks Stephers."
They spent the next couple of hours, shooting around and Chris was nice and relaxed by the time they got back to the hotel. They went up to Chris's room where he went to take a shower. Stephanie took a shower as well, but finished up before him and went into his room via the adjoining door. She plopped herself down on his bed and grabbed the remote, flipping through the stations trying to find something decent to watch. She was still flipping when Chris came out of the bathroom, a towel on his waist.
"You know what I find funny?"
"Um...that time Goldberg fell doing that karate kick during his entrance?" Chris suggested.
Stephanie snorted, "That WAS funny, oh look at me, I'm karate Bill, oops, fell down, can I try that again?"
"Ok, but I'm guessing that wasn't it."
"No, I was just watching Full House, and isn't it funny how Bob Saget was like the star at the beginning, but then he got shafted for John Stamos like half way through. It just goes to show you that hair is everything."
"But in the end it only paid if you were an Olsen twin."
"Oh yeah, those little girls or whatever," Stephanie said, tapping her chin, "With the cheesy like stuff and stuff."
"Oh and that other...stuff right?"
"Yeah, with the stuff."
"That they did stuff with, using the stuff."
"Yeah, good stuff," Stephanie said thoughtfully, "Is that what you're wearing to your date?"
He looked down, "Yeah, I figured that towels were all the rage nowadays. Nothing says sexy like terrycloth."
"I know, I mean, what do you think my number one turn on is?"
"I thought it was satin," he told her.
"Oh yeah, that too, but terrycloth, man alive, sexy stuff."
"Remind me to make note of that later."
"I'll write it down in my diary right now," she said, hopping up and pretending to run into the room. Chris grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back, she gave him a look and a smile, "Snooks, is this your way of trying to hit on me...in your towel no less."
"You have to help me decide what to wear."
"Clothes, ok, are we done here?"
"Not helping," he said, "What should I wear? I want it to say 'hey, I'm cool,' and not, 'hey, I'm a loser."
"Then I will suggest a shirt that says on it, 'Hey, I'm cool," I mean, what says that better than a shirt that says that?"
"I'm going with my black polo and khaki pants," he said, grabbing the aforementioned clothes.
"Wear silk boxers, that way you're all comfy during the date, and then you won't get a wedgie or anything, cause God forbid you get one of those, you might never live it down."
"I don't think I have any of those with me," he said, "So I guess I'll have to go with regular cotton boxers."
"Too bad," she shrugged, "But when you get that wedgie later, don't say I didn't warn you Snooks."
"I'll think of you then," he said as he walked back into the bathroom to get changed.
He came out a few minutes later, looking clean-shaved and well-dressed. Stephanie kneeled up on the bed as he came over. She adjusted his collar for him and then brushed invisible dust off of his shirt. He smiled and grabbed his wallet and phone before telling Stephanie good-bye and that he'd see her later. He walked to the elevator and rode two floors down to Trish's room, knocking on her door when he arrived. She answered the door and almost took his breath away.
"Wow, you are looking incredible," Chris said before he even said hello.
"Thanks Chris, are you ready to go?"
"Well, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't, I'd be up in my room having Stephanie inspect me and make sure that I didn't have a sock stuck to my ass or something. She's good at spotting socks."
"Do you and Stephanie share a room?"
"Oh yeah, we share a bed too, and when it's really cold, I let her have all the covers," he said, "I'm kidding of course, it's my sense of humor that has sustained me through difficult times and awkward situations. There's nothing like a good joke to break the awkward silences."
She laughed and he dared to take her hand in his. When she let him hold her hand, a smile involuntarily came over his face and he looked away from her, not letting her see the stupid blush that was coming over his cheek. They went down to his car and he drove them to a nice little, Italian place. Trish noticed that Chris was being very gentlemanly to her, and she had to appreciate it just a little.
"So, you and Stephanie, you've been friends for how long?"
"Since the night I joined the company," he told her, "See, she spilled hot chocolate on me and she kept apologizing and following me around, apologizing and I haven't been able to get rid of her."
Trish laughed, "The way you two act around each other, you'd think that you'd been friends since you were little kids."
"Yeah, we get that a lot. If I had been friends with Stephanie when we were little, I don't know, I'd probably have been institutionalized by now. Stephanie is the most outgoing person I've ever known, excluding myself, I think we create a good balance, like those scales they always show on the court shows, with the lady."
"I'm sorry I thought you two were together," she told him, "If I had known that you two weren't together, I wouldn't have turned you down like I did."
"Don't worry about it," he said, shrugging it off now, forgetting how hurt he had been back then, "I just ran to Stephanie and she made it all better. See, she came up with this way to make a band-aid that fits on those emotional cuts."
"She's really something."
"Yeah, she's something, a crazy something, but she's something."
"I don't think I have any friends like that in the business."
Chris wanted to be that friend to her. As stupid as that sounded, he wanted to be there for her, and be with her. He couldn't help it, sitting there across from her and thinking that she was perfect for him. She kept him occupied the entire night and almost didn't want the night to end. They ended up talking at the table for a couple of hours, just about anything and everything.
When Chris walked into the room later that evening, he felt like he was floating on air. Stephanie gave him the oddest look as she stood up to grab the food he had in his hands. She inhaled from the bag deeply and smile, Italian, this was going to be good. She just had to wait for Chris to calm down.
"Well, considering that I think you're officially in orbit, I'm saying it went well."
"Better."
"Better?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Like better in the sense that double stuff Oreos are better than regular Oreos?"
"No, like how milk and cookies is better than just cookies."
"Oh wow, so its like a million, bajillion times better, I knew that once you got that crazy girl in your grasp that you'd be all happy and stuff. I predicted it, I was like psychic about it. So psychic about it that I didn't even tell you that I was psychic about it because I just knew that you wouldn't be listening because you are thinking about the blonde bombshell."
"What was that Stephers?"
"Yup, I was right, I am SO psychic," she said, digging into the lasagna that Chris had picked up for her, "He's gone ladies and gentlemen, Chris Jericho has left the building. No, no, I'm sorry, he won't be accepting any autographs, I don't think you got the message that he left the building."
"Hmm?"
Stephanie just shook her head and continued eating as Chris collapsed on the bed, his hands outstretched and a stupid grin on his face. She was about to throw some lasagna on his face to get him out of this stupid daze he was in, but she thought she'd just let him be for now. She could grill him for details later. And she would. She just kept eating and mumbled to herself.
"Yup, he had a good time."