Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Mentioned Self-Harm, etc.

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, lieutenant. I wish that it could have been under better circumstances." Jay said, shaking JBL's hand. He was then told to take a seat in one of the two chairs on the opposite side of the table.

"Yes, well, it's not every day that we're lucky enough to have a surviving witness to such a brutal encounter." JBL said. "I am sure that, with your testimony, we'll be able to put Wade behind bars for a very long time." His words were reassuring, but Jay was still, quite obviously, worried.

Making himself comfortable in the chair - he had the sense that he would be there for a rather long time - he offered the interrogator a serious look. "Where would you like me to start?"

"The beginning is always best." Came the snarky reply. And then, somewhat more polite, "Tell me all that you can about the relationship between Wade, Adam, and the man responsible for all of this, Chris Jericho."

"Well... I feel like I need to make it known that there was a big misconception in Adam's court case." Jay sighed. "Wade and Chris had met before..."

Chris took Vince up on his offer. Shawn was invited back for a second interview (Vince claimed that it was because they had narrowed down the field to three potential dancers and he wanted to make the best decision for his company based off of credentials, not looks, but Chris knew it was just another opportunity to get into Shawn's pants) and had dragged Chris with him. Not that Chris minded. After a hot one-night-stand with a brooding, semi-controlling Hunter Helmsley, he'd stolen at least five-hundred dollars worth of crap from his apartment and had pawned it for cash. He was ready to stuff dollar bills into G-strings.

At the time, he hadn't really known that Adam was going to be on the rotation of dancers. He couldn't say that he was disappointed, though. After slipping the waitress a fifty dollar bill - she looked like she was barely old enough to work there, but had just enough cleavage poking out of her shirt to make him not really care (seriously, though, didn't she realize that this was a gay strip club?) - she'd gotten him a seat in the front row. He'd ordered his drink, a good ol' fashioned Budweiser, and had leaned back in his chair, only to almost ram into the person behind him. It was certainly packed there tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as his one-night-stand rough-housed with an overly drunk patron that tried to get a little too handsy with one of the dancers. There was another man with him - somewhat taller, tats up and down his arms, pale, with dark hair and green eyes - that was attempting to help him out. Chris had to admit, the man looked like a decent lay. He'd have to track him down sometime... provided he had the dough to back it up. When the man pulled out a gun, Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome nearly took off his arm. So he was strong too. That was hot, and an undeniable turn-on for Chris.

Once the guy was out, Hunter leaned over and whispered something in the man's ear. It must've been absolutely hysterical, because Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome actually cracked a smile... and then he kissed him. "Shit." Chris mumbled. He'd never had a one-night-stand get over him that fast.

The waitress placed his drink down onto the table, flashing a considerable amount of cleavage in his face. "Here's your drink, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, cracking his beer open. "How about buttoning up your shirt there, missy? What are you, sixteen? This is a gay strip club!"

She made a sound akin to horrified embarrassment, tears bristling in her eyes. In an attempt to regain some dignity, she huffed, "Excuse me?"

"Man, did it really go in one ear and out the other? So, you're a deaf slut. That's a rather unfortunate combination, if I do say so myself." He took a swig of his beer. "I told you to button up, lassie. Nobody wants to see your junk."

"Your behavior is absolutely inexcusable! You can't treat me like that!" Her face was flushed bright red and she looked as if she was about to pass out. "I'll... I'll... call the manager on you! Or, better yet, I'll have Hunter kick you out! Yeah - Hunter!" Her tone was so shrill, it made his eardrums ring.

Hunter quickly made his way over, before rolling his eyes when he saw who had called him. "What are you wasting my time with now, Eve?"

If looks could kill, well... "This... this monster is making fun of the way that I dress and is causing a scene! Kick him out!"

"Well, first of all, you are dressed like a whore in a gay strip club." Hunter offered nonchalantly, flipping long blond locks over his shoulder. "And, second, you're the only one here that's causing a scene. Now, I'd suggest that you go off and do your job before you don't have one."

At this point, Jay also made known the fact that this was not the last confrontation that Chris had had with Eve. One of which had been to arrange the very
encounter in the shower where Adam had been raped. Eve had been an absolutely devilish woman, ready to do just about anything for a little extra cash. Jay had gone in there once, if only to see if she was still employed. Much to his dismay, not only was she still employed, but she had been promoted. It was the sad, sad truth that those in a position to hurt Adam often had the most power. With his aside finished, he started back in on his story.

At that moment, Eve stormed off in a huff, tears leaking from her eyes and leaving behind a nasty trail of mascara. Hunter turned to Chris, his stare dark, "And you still owe me five-hundred dollars. Don't think I'm gonna let you off the hook for that."

"I didn't think that you would." Chris flashed a dangerous smile. "You want to sit down for a minute... have a drink?" He motioned to his beer.

"I can't - I'm on the clock. Besides, I thought I made it clear. I have no interest in cheats who only use me for money." Was the bitter reply.

"A cheat?" He laughed, raising one blond eyebrow. "I've been called worse."

"You're lucky you're still around to hear me call you anything. One of these days, some poor, cheated soul is gonna get tired of your bullshit and kill you - no questions asked. And I won't be surprised if they still speak ill of you after your dead." He said.

"You certainly are a bucket of sunshine, aren't you?" Chris joked, but it wasn't really funny.

"Goodbye, Chris." And then he walked away.

Chris watched as Hunter walked away, and once he was out of ear-shot, he broke down into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He chugged down the rest of his beer, almost choking on it in the process, slammed the glass down, and motioned for the scantily-clad waitress - Eve, that was her name - to come over and get him another. She did so begrudgingly, and he could see that she was fighting the urge to bash the damn bottle right over his head. But he couldn't care less. Because, at that moment, the curtains opened and Adam stepped out onto the floor, looking rather raunchy in his skin-tight leather pants and transparent white button down.

He was practically making love to the dance floor, his body gliding about with perfect rhythm and undeniable grace. The music was absolutely deafening in the background, but Chris wasn't listening. Instantly, his eyes glued onto Adam's hands, which quickly unbuttoned his shirt. With a gentle shrug of his shoulders, it fell down his arms, over his wrists, and into his one hand. Shaking his hips delectably, he spun the shirt above his head, smiling when a shower of one-dollar and five-dollar bills came down on the stage. Wanting to out-do them all, to have his attention on him alone, Chris tossed him a fifty-dollar bill.

Adam's eyes flickered to Chris, and he could tell that he didn't recognize him under the pulsing lights of the club. "Oh." He let out a soft moan, licking his lips. "Hello there."

He slithered off of the stage, threw one leg over his, and straddled him. "Fuck," Chris groaned, closing his eyes and simply feeling Adam rut his hips against his. That's when he realized the pretty blond had his fifty between his lips. Chris' eyes snapped open. "You certainly are a raunchy little bastard."

Adam grinned, rolling his hips in wide, quick circles. "Well, it's not every day that I get such a... thankful customer." He said.

On instinct alone, Chris reached for the fifty, took it out of Adam's mouth, and replaced it with the mouth of the beer bottle. Adam drank messily, some of the liquid spilling over his lips and dribbling down his chin. And then he leaned forward, capturing Chris' lips in a beer-filled kiss. When he pulled away, Chris whispered, "Fuck."

"You're quite the prophetic one." Adam smirked.

"Well, it's not everyday that I get a lap dance from such a pretty dancer." Chris said, feeling his cock throb in his pants.

But Adam was a little tease that didn't finish what he started. With one last peck, he stood and climbed back up onto the stage with an almost feline grace. Nimble fingers started to undo the front laces of his leather pants, before he simply peeled them off of his body. Now, left only in a G-string and what looked to be silver nipple clamps, he was attracting more attention than ever. Chris couldn't blame the other sorry bastards. They thought that they actually had a chance with him. But Chris knew the truth. As Adam hooked his fingers into the straps of the G-string, Chris knew - he was undeniably in love with Adam, and Adam was in love with him.

At least, that was what he wanted to believe. Realizing that he had never given back the fifty dollar bill, he followed Adam backstage, having been granted access when he arrived with Shawn. Upon arriving around back, however, he found his Adam in the arms of another. He was tall and lean, dressed in a baggy pair of jeans and a loose white t-shirt. He was holding Adam, laughing with him as Adam frantically attempted to re-button his shirt. Looking properly ruffled and more than a little worse-for-wear, he was laughing as he plucked ones and fives from every imaginable place, money flying clumsily between their hands.

Chris cleared his throat obnoxiously. Adam looked up, flashing the other blond a lopsided grin. "Oh, hey man. What's up?" It was clear that he still didn't recognize him.

"I forgot to give this back to you." He said, crudely shoving it into the revealed strap of Adam's G-string. The blond blushed, recoiling a little. Wade's eyes were burning, and when Chris' hand stayed a little too long on Adam's hip, Wade shoved him back. Scowling, Chris turned to Wade, "What the fuck?"

"You keep your grimy little hands off of him, you understand?" Wade hissed. "You touch him again, and I'll break your fucking fingers."

Chris put his hands up defensively. "Whoa... call off your guard dog, pretty boy."

That was all it took to set Wade off. In one swift movement, he raised his fist and knocked the Canadian out. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, Adam staring over Wade's shoulder fearfully. "Wade... what the hell did you do?"

"I took out the trash." Placing a hand on Adam's shoulder, he led his boy into the locker room. Adam chanced one last look over his shoulder, staring at the fallen, unmoving form on the concrete floor. "Remember this, Adam. You can't trust anyone. Especially not a cheat."

"Wade had come to collect. To enforce the fact that Adam couldn't trust anyone, not even him." Jay stared down at the table. "But it was also to punish Adam - the fact that Adam could love someone besides Wade was unacceptable, and so he would shatter every dream and demolish every hope that Adam ever had."

Lt. Layfield wrote all of this down, nodding slowly. "Anything else?"

Jay nodded solemnly. "Wade escaped after shooting both Adam and Randy, and could have caused Adam to miscarry... but that wouldn't be enough for him. As long as he is out on the streets, he has access to weapons... and as long as he has access to weapons, he could come back for Brielle."

"Okay." JBL said. "We're going to move you and Brielle into protective custody. And then, we're going to release a press statement with updates on Adam, Randy, and Brielle... claim that they died from their wounds. It will throw him off of Brielle's trail, at least for a little while. And leave us time to find him."

Jay nodded, "Thank you for your time, officer."

"Not a problem." He said. "Brielle will be released from the hospital into your care, at which point, you will be escorted to a car. The rest is strictly need-to-know. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Jay answered immediately.

"Good." JBL closed his little book. "And best of luck to you."