Hate?

by AngelGrl

"At Summerslam, I am going to take care of that nasty, dirty, disgusting animal! And I'll get you too, Rhyno," Y2J taunted.

Stephanie seethed. She couldn't believe Chris Jericho spoke to her like that.

"I am Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley! You can't talk to me like that!"

But he did. And he had for ages. And no matter how much he did it, it didn't become any easier for Steph. She still hated it.

She went backstage after the promo, still angry at that stupid Jericho.

That was when she saw him…combing his hair - as usual. He pulled it into that goofy ponytail, and then looked up to see her staring at him.

"Look, Steph, I know you like me and all, but you have to understand the feeling's not mutual!" he said, smirk in place.

"I never liked you…and you have stupid hair!" she exclaimed.

"Steph, you can at least make up your own comebacks - I mean, stealing from Buffy is so…lame," he replied.

She hadn't even realised she had done that. She was too busy staring at him and his stupid hair - God, she hated his hair.

She gave an angry grunt, then stormed off.

"Where IS he?" she shouted.

Rhyno had promised to give her a lift. Yes, she had a car, but Billion Dollar Princesses don't drive. So Rhyno, as part of the 'suck up to the boss' plan, had offered to drive her back to the hotel.

And he was late - or he'd forgotten.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Princess - I'm here," came a voice from behind her.

"You - YOU!" she said, turning around to face Chris Jericho.

"Yes?" he asked, the picture of innocence.

"What are you doing here?"

"Rhyno was muttering something or another about a lift - so I told him not to worry about it," he answered simply.

"You're not driving me home!"

"Fine. Sleep at the arena," came the reply. She almost considered it, but finally conceded.

"Okay, fine. But be careful with the car!" she warned.

He simply grinned at her. In a matter of seconds, they were off, tyres squealing.

***

They arrived about ten minutes later.

"Remind me never to accept a lift from you EVER again!" she yelled.

"Never accept a lift from me ever again," he reminded her.

"I mean it! Never! I have never been so fearful for my life ever before!" she hated him. She really did. And she really hated the way he drove.

The next day, Stephanie still didn't want to get back in her car. So she decided to have breakfast at the hotel.

Unfortunately, so did Chris Jericho.

She tried to ignore him, ordering some muesli and fruit. But she couldn't help it, and kept on sneaking furtive glances at him.

And every time she looked, she caught him staring at her. It was unnerving, it really was - why was he staring at her?

He was probably doing it on purpose - just to piss her off.

She hated him. And she really hated how he stared.

She called a limo to take her to the training area. She wasn't taking lifts any more - not after what Jericho did. She was never going to let him forget it.

Speak of the devil…she thought, as she saw Jericho in the training area.

He smiled as he passed her - and then she felt a sharp pain in her foot.

He had stomped on her foot! Him and his stupid combat boots!

She didn't know if he did it on purpose or not - the look on his face suggested it was an accident - but it sure as hell hurt.

"OUCH!" she shrieked, before collapsing on the floor.

After everyone heard her scream, they all rushed over. In a few minutes, she was propped up in a nice comfy spot, ice on her foot.

After reassuring everyone that she was okay, she sat back and sighed.

So typical of Chris Jericho to do that. Although…he actually looked sorry. What's up with that? she thought.

"I am sorry, you know," said a voice, startling her. She hadn't realised he was still there.

"Whatever, Chris," she said, wanting to get back to her thoughts. They lapsed back into silence.

My foot still feels sore. I never knew it could hurt that much. I wonder if I can work tomorrow night? she thought.

"You'll be fine, Steph. Up and out there, gracing millions of TV screens with your presence," he said.

She knew there had to be something sarcastic in what he just said. But she didn't really care. She was just wondering how he had known exactly what she was thinking.

She hated how he did that.

"Steph! Come on, Steph, get up. I know you can make a guy get up, it should be easy for you…" Chris said, hoping it would get Steph so incensed she'd jump up and start yelling at him.

He was right…kind of. Stephanie did jump up, but she ran straight into the bathroom.

Stephanie didn't know what had come over her. She never threw up - and especially not from crying. And as mad as Chris made her, he'd never made her cry.

She was probably just upset because in the past day or so, Chris had seemed…well, almost…nice. 

She laughed bitterly. She never knew that a guy could make you physically sick.

Stephanie stared down at the notebook in front of her.

Keeping a poem journal was something Jeff Hardy had suggested to her when she first came to the WWF. Of course hers, Steph not being a creative genius like Jeff, was pretty much empty, with mostly quotes and poems by other people, not herself.

But this time Steph had tried her hand at a poem of her own - inspired by Chris Jericho.

She filled in the title. '10 Things I Hate About You'. I can think of more than 10, she thought with a wry smile.

"Princess, are you coming out? We have a SmackDown to get to!" called a familiar voice.

"What are you doing coming to get me?" she asked with obvious confusion.

"Felt like it," came the reply. "Anyway, are you coming? I promise I won't insult you tonight!"

She rolled her eyes. Chris Jericho not only made her sick, he even made her rhyme.

Stephanie was doing her usual in-ring speech on SmackDown, when Chris Jericho's music hit.

She gave herself a small smile. Maybe tonight it would be okay.

But it wasn't so.

"It seems our little Stephanie has grown over the years…" he started.

Stephanie felt her eyes begin to sting. It was true. She had had breast implants, but they were Shane's idea. He'd wanted the owner of ECW to look good.

So she'd agreed. She'd had them done, and hoped that no one would notice. But Chris obviously had.

"I have not!!!" she yelled. But she had. Chris was right, and now the whole world would notice.

She hated it when Chris was right.

But what she hated even more was that he had lied to her.

I promise I won't insult you tonight! he had promised her earlier. Promised!

And he had lied.

She hated it when he lied.

***

Once she finished her speech, she ran backstage…into Chris.

"You liar! You idiot! I hate you! Hate you, hate you, hate you!" She cried, pummeling him.

"Hey, Steph," he said gently, catching her arms, "I'm so sorry. Bosses orders."

Her father had asked him to do this. Her father. She cried harder.

"Look, Steph, let me make it up to you. Come out with me and the Hardyz after SmackDown," he offered.

Reluctantly, Stephanie agreed. But I still hate him, she reminded herself.

Stephanie felt a little conspicuous, going out with WWF people. But she had hung out with Lita and the Hardyz before, and they were friendly, trying to put her at ease.

She soon found herself relaxing, and she even laughed at one of Chris' jokes.

"Oh my God, the Billion Dollar Princess is laughing at one of my jokes!" Chris said with mock surprise.

That just made her laugh harder.

To her surprise, Stephanie found herself enjoying the night, and was almost sad when it came to an end.

Chris walked her to her room, and when they got there, she was surprised to hear what came out of his mouth.

"Steph…tonight was really fun. Do it again sometime?" he asked.

"Sure, Chris," she was probably even more surprised by what came out of her own mouth.

But the thing that surprised her the most was that Chris was leaning in…about to kiss her…

Then he pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, "I can't."

He left her crying…again. God, she hated it when he did that.

The next day, Stephanie looked for Chris. Maybe he could explain what had happened.

But he didn't show up. She didn't see him anywhere, not even at training. He just wasn't there.

Or maybe he was, but he was avoiding her.

When she got back from the training session, she collapsed on her bed.

She channel-surfed for a while, but there was only the hotel information channel and some news channel.

Finally, she just stared at the phone, mentally willing it to ring.

But it didn't. Chris wasn't going to call.

The next day, she saw him in the hallway, turned around and began to walk the other way.

"Steph! Stephanie!" she heard him calling. She just kept walking. Finally he caught up to her.

"Steph, what's going on?" he asked.

"You hate me, Chris, so I'll just go," she replied.

"No, Steph, I don't hate you," he said.

"Not even close?" she asked.

"Not even close," he reassured.

"And you know what, Chris?" she said.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't hate you either," she answered.

"Not even a little bit?" he asked.

"Not even any at all," she said.

And they kissed.

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