Disclaimer: I do not own these character names, and no disrespect is intended.

Sanctimonious

"You're fired!"

It was a struggle to keep the smile off my face when she spat the words at me, had to call on all that acting ability I have locked inside me to look hurt and confused. I pulled it off though because that's what Chris Jericho does, he takes care of business. I had special business to take care of, Stephanie knew it, Vince knew it, and there were certain promises made that I should have never expected to be kept, but I never seemed to learn my lesson.

I kept my phone off after I left the building and got a shuttle over to the airport. Two things made me chuckle as I made the short trip. First of all I knew David was trying to call me and couldn't reach me due to the phone being off, and secondly the FAA designation for the Sioux City airport is SUX. In my head the two collided, and David probably thought it SUKD that I wasn't answering his call, but I had my reasons.

There were no direct flights back to Tampa, and with the one stop it was over five hours of traveling time. Factor in the TSA checks, the baggage hassles, I wouldn't be home until early morning. I didn't even have to hope because I knew he'd find it worth it.

During the long flight I had time to rationalize all the reasons why it was ok to go to David first before going home. He was hurt, he was facing the fact that he would miss yet another 'Mania, and worst of all he couldn't even start rehab for another six weeks. The logic sounded feeble in my head that he needed me more than my wife and three young children, but something told me she'd understand. Jess had come to accept many years ago the unique bond between Dave Bautista and me.

I was weary and sore by the time I pulled up in his driveway, the sun was just coming up. I let myself in and was up the stairs to his room before he even woke up.

----

"Chris…what the fuck…?"

"Aw c'mon big man, you can do better than that," I sat on the edge of his bed, "I got myself fired for you, flew all night to get here and all you can do is curse me out?"

"No, I just," he raised his hand to rub his eyes vigorously, "I was worried."

I snorted, "Worried? About what? How long have you been on the roster? If they really wanted to fire me, they wouldn't do it on air."

"I know, I just," he pushed himself up against the headboard, "I wasn't expecting it."

"And you're not yourself." I tipped my head to the side, "How's it going?"

"It's going," he murmured and sighed, "Slowly."

"Well you got me for a whole week. I'm here to put that smile back on your face. I asked for the week off so I could mollycoddle you."

"Why Chris? You don't owe me anything."

"Stop looking a gift horse in the mouth," I kept the edge out of my voice, just barely.

----

He gave me that lazy smile, and all was right in the world. Then came the good-natured bantering for me to get out of the room because he wasn't decent, and me telling him he was never decent. The bantering died out when I saw the ugly red gash on his leg, and I meekly left him to dress on his own. He shrugged it off like it was nothing, but I knew better.

I spent the week shuttling him back and forth to physical therapy and the gym for upper body workouts. He eased and relaxed as the week went on, and by Sunday I realized I had gotten him over that hump that an athlete faces when the surgery meds wear off and harsh reality dawns that there's a long road ahead.

----

"So, what's the game plan going forward?" he asked as he sat in his recliner, hands folded across his chest.

"I go back tomorrow, Vince grandly re-instates me, and the Princess eats crow."

The look on his face when he tipped his head to the side told me that he understood the business far more than he let on sometimes, "Just like that?"

"My place is cemented David," I said with more conviction than I felt. "It's not like I asked them for a two year sabbatical so I could sow wild oats. I said I wanted a week, and that it was in their best interest for me to come and put the smile back on your face."

He rolled his eyes, "You tell them you're sleeping with me too?"

That gave me pause, usually we didn't say those words out loud. "I'm not sleeping with you David," I said at last.

He closed his eyes and leaned back further in his chair. "It just seems that you telling them you wanted time off to come and take care of Dave Batista was a telegraph."

"It's none of their fucking business," I asserted. "They know guys forge bonds on the road, and whether you know it or not a lot's banking on your return." I sat forward on the couch, and when that didn't get me close enough to make eye contact I stood over his chair and railed down at him. "I told you a long time ago that if you came out of that shell you were hiding in you'd wrap the live crowd around your finger so fast McMahon would be kissing your ass before he even realized it. And I was right. You're a money player now David, they want what's best for you because that's what's best for the business, or rather their bottom line."

A silence fell between us then while we both contemplated the gilding of the lily, the semantic game we always played when it came down to the two of us alone. Sleeping together did not cover the way we felt about one another.

"You'll be ok now David," I finally murmured at last. "You know you've got a lot of hard work in front of you, but you're ready for it. Life deals us bitter blows and we show our resiliency by kicking it in the stones and rising above. You know I'm just a phone call away when I'm on the road, and a stone's throw away when I'm not."

"I know," he said, the petulant edge gone from his voice now. "And as much as it looks like I don't, I appreciate it Chris." He struggled with his words for a moment, "I know it's more than surface caring."

"Hell yeah it is," I said forcefully, hoping to lighten the mood. I backed toward the couch and settled down, pulled out the phone and sent a quick text. I knew he was watching me, I tipped the phone to the side so he could watch the screen power down, and then I tossed the phone to the far end of the couch.

The meaning was not lost on him, and he smiled.

----

I stirred restlessly on the hard chair outside her office door. True to my promise I'd been back on time, and true to form she kept me waiting until nearly time for the segment to air. Most of that tension on screen was not an act on my part, I guess it was what you call method acting, or the sheer agony of live television. As the time dragged on I began to put two and two together, and when Paul emerged from the room that had been earmarked as Steph's the message was clearly sent.

I only listened with half an ear as she laid out the series of events for that night. Inside my heart broke because I knew David would take the blame upon himself. There had to be some way I could communicate to him that this was just business.

"…on your knees."

My eyes snapped up to her face, and Vince's smirk over her shoulder was the nail in the coffin. I nodded at them, and somehow kept the vitriol out of my voice as I agreed with their plan.

There were thousands of eyes on me as I stepped through the ropes, but I only cared about the two back home in Tampa. I counted on him to listen.

The word "petulant" was the cue, because so many times I had used the word in regards to his moods. If that hadn't sucked him in then the whole charade didn't matter.

"I'm thinking about reinstating Chris Jericho, superstar of the year…"

At that moment I slipped my thumb between my first and middle finger. It was a nervous gesture that David had picked up on so many times in the past. He teased me relentlessly about insecurity that lingered. I knew he watched my hands avidly, whether I was speaking or not. That was the signal I couldn't betray with my eyes, that somehow I'd make this ok, come out on top.

"…but I'm not."

After that I switched to autopilot, and even in Chicago I felt that bond to Tampa. Yet another bump in the road, but we'd weathered so many before we were good at it.