Three months later…

"Hi, I have an appointment with Mr. McMahon schedule for six o'clock."

The woman behind the desk glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of her before picking up the phone beside her hand. All it took was one push of a button and she was connected with the room she had intended to reach. "Mr. McMahon, I have a woman here to see you." She glanced down once against. "A Mrs. Bischoff. Dawn?" Dawn assumed that the recognition had come through, because the woman set the phone down and with a phony smile said, "Down the hall. It should be the last room on your right-hand side." And she delivered her own fake smile in return. She was always good at that.

Vince McMahon was hardly sure of what would walk through the door. He had seen some strange things in his life, most of which had sat across from his desk, but the most shocking thing he would witness was a foot away from his door. As ridiculous as she probably looked to the nosy men and women peaking out of their doors, Dawn was going to take her time to knock. Her hand was already raised but the apprehension was taking over. There was a voice in the back of her head asking, "What if I mess up?"

Dawn barely noticed her hand dropping to tap her knuckles against the large oak door to the office. "Come in." But she did notice the distinct feeling of having her heart drop to the bottom of her lungs. A nervous smile graced the face of the woman, but Vince had already gathered his first impression of her. He was in awe. It was a rare occasion for Dawn to wear a slate gray business suit, but after all, it did come with a skirt. Eric had been the one to advise her to dress well, going as far as sending his assistant out to pick up a new outfit for her. The highlights had been taken out weeks before the meeting, and her make-up was a subtle brown eyeliner and clear lip gloss. Dawn Marie was glamorous to the extent of trashy, but Dawn Psaltis-Bischoff was going to be the very definition of elegance.

"Bischoff?"

"Psaltis-Bischoff, but yes."

"Married again?"

"Third time's the charm."

The wordless exchange soon after was almost too much for her to bear. Vince had his eyes glued to the only piece of jewelry adorning her hand, her wedding ring. Dawn's teeth bit down lightly on her lip. "You can't predict love now, can you?" Her laugh was as dry as his expression. "I mean, it's strange how people can change in time of desperation." Vince could smell the blood in the water. "Desperation?" He latched on and Dawn was ready to go on the ride. "Complete desperation. When I caught up to him he was miserable." Sensing the scoff at the bottom of Vince's throat, Dawn sighed.

"Even more miserable. I mean, he's trying to move on in life but it's hard for him. He has a lot more failures than successes, and that's inspired me. I'm tired of my failures. When I think back to my highs and my lows, it makes me want to get back into the business. I was managing champions and then I was wrestling in pudding. I want to go back to where I was and I want to be someone that people admire. I'm ready, Mr. McMahon."

When the door closed behind her, Dawn knew that she was going to celebrate.

No one was more content than Dawn. As she curled against the pillows on the bed with a Cheshire cat grin, the clock was just now striking one in the morning. Was she not in heaven? The room was dimly lit, as always. Eric seemed to detest light of any kind, and there was a less than subtle scent of sex in the air. Inside the bathroom, Eric was polishing up on his vanity, needlessly admiring his reflection and the silver hair that he ran through his fingertips. It seemed like it had taken hours when in reality it was a mere ten minutes, but the silence between them was broken though it was far from the usual post-coital chatter. "Basically, you want me to seduce Vince, convince him to hire me, sleep my way into his circle of trust and then let you weasel your way into that little group too?" Dawn showed no signs of discomfort when it came to the topic. She eased her way through the words without surprise or questions of intent.

Eric was never amazed by his bride's inability to assess the importance of their situation. Some days he was convinced that she understood the significance of getting things right the first time, and other days, he did not know if she was more interested in time travelling back to when she was a teenager. That night, that moment, she played with a tennis bracelet he had bought her, eyeing it over several times like a sweater she had just bought from the mall. Eric's eyes narrowed considerably, hoping she would take a hint, but she ran her fingers along it like she had just found oil a foot from her mobile home. Or at least that was the way Eric thought of it. "No, I…Will you stop that?" He had not meant to snap at her, but it was like a moth attracted to lights when it came to Dawn and diamonds.

The bracelet went limp in Dawn's hand as she untangled herself from the maroon colored sheets and crawled to the end of the bed. "Obviously, you don't know McMahon. He's not going to just let you in and share all of his deep dark secrets with you. You're going to have to be sneaky and you're going to have to lie. Surely, you're used to it." Like a cat, Dawn stretched from head to toe, rolling over onto her back. His cynical tone was a sound she had grown used to hearing. Now, more than ever, it was easier to let the sound drown out and fade back in. "And another thing," Eric said as he sauntered toward the bed. "You're not sleeping with him. I might not have made things clear before, but whether I like you or not you're not going to be bed hopping. And I'm only telling you this once." Dawn dropped the bracelet to the floor with a sigh. Her newly free hand wound itself into her dark brown hair, and for a rare moment, Eric was transfixed by the vision in front of him. Marriage did have its benefits he had to admit. "Dawn, are you listening to me?"

"I heard you. You hate Vince, I have to act like you, and you're jealous because I'm not interested in you." The last word was punctuated by a yawn, and Dawn reached behind her to pull a pillow over to where she had been laying. "Now that we have that clear, are you coming to bed or what?" Innocently, she stared up at him, he had been standing at the foot of the bed for a while now. The brief moment they made eye contact was enough to last her a week. She didn't know how he did it but he made her shiver every time he looked at her. When he touched her, she always wondered why she was able to move. It didn't make sense that he couldn't make her turn to stone underneath him. Maybe she had it blocked out, or maybe it was because their hate burned hotter than anything else between them. He was cold.

"Eric…"

"Yeah. Just move."

They were chilly and they were lukewarm. Time would never heal their wounds, but at least they were learning to tolerate each other. Dawn never knew how easy it was to hate someone until she spent and hour with Eric, but what could she do other than wait it out? All she had was nine months. What she did with her time was up to her. But as Eric turned the bedside lamp off, Dawn was trying her hardest to make her time worth while. Uncomfortably, Dawn shifted from side to side, until she managed to unnoticeably curl against Eric's side. He stared straight ahead, feigning any knowledge of what was going on, as she lowed her head onto her chest. Only when she brought her hand up to rest by her cheek did she realize how similar he was to a mannequin. This had to be sympathy for the devil.