SHE'S THE ONE

SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, JUNE 3RD, 2001

Chris Jericho sauntered through the gym. Little Rogue was still at the ring, working systematically on snap suplexes with her doll, Larissa. Sometimes she was so much like Benoit it was scary. Jericho would have stayed with her, but his weights training had been suffering lately and pizza, beer and tequila sure didn't help.

He looked around the room. The usual suspects were there - Hardyz, Justin Credible, D-Von Dudley, Jerry Lynn.

Jericho nodded over at Matt Hardy and boom, he was flat on his face. He was on his feet in a flash and spun defensively.

Jeff Hardy was sitting at the shoulder press, his face the picture of innocence, as if e wasn't a damn little assclown.

"What the hell's your problem, jerky?" Jericho demanded, glaring down at the younger Hardy.

"Oh, did I trip you?" Jeff asked innocently. "Sorry about that. Hey, it's a good thing you weren't down there too long. It'd be a shame to have someone walk all over you. Maybe even steal the shirt right off your back."

"You better start explaining yourself, you little punk, or I'm gonna beat your ass."

"Easy, Chris," Matt called out as Jeff looked up, undaunted.

"Maybe you should have taken a nap while you were down there, huh, Chris? You can't have been sleeping much lately."

"What the hell are you talking about, jerky?" Jericho growled. His patience was wearing very, very thin and he'd had about all he could take of Hardy's little riddles.

The sides of Jeff's mouth turned up a little into an ironic smile. "I've slept pretty good myself the last couple of nights, since I changed rooms. I guess Thursday was a sleepless one for both of us, huh? Just, next time we change hotels, if you'd let me know which room you'll be staying in so I can not get the one next door?"

Jericho frowned. Thursday night…hotel rooms. And then it clicked. "Is this about Angel?"

"Is this about…" Jeff scoffed, before breaking off with a sad shake of his head. "Yeah, it's about Angel. Or what’s that you call her? Rogue? That's real cute, Chris. Real cute."

Jericho sighed. The kid seriously looked like he was about to cry. "Junior…"

"Do you know what I used to call her, Chris?" Jeff rushed on. "Gel. G-E-L. I thought that was kinda nice, but then I never was as good with words as you are."

Jericho decided to try again. "Jeff, we're not together."

"Oh, the hell you're not!" Jeff cried. "I heard you, Chris. Thursday night. I heard you. The two of you weren't exactly quiet."

"Read my lips, jerky," Jericho shot back, unimpressed at being yelled at. "Nothing happened." He paused, realizing that wasn't entirely true. "I did not have sex with her."

"You expect me to believe you?" Jeff cried, knowing that probably the whole gym was listening, and not caring in the slightest. "Why should I, huh? Why should I believe you?"

"How long have we been friends?" Jericho asked.

"I don't know. A year, two, maybe?"

"And how long have you been in love with Angel?"

Jeff shrugged. "Four months?"

"So, who are you gonna believe?"

"Neither of you," Jeff replied quietly. "I trust my eyes and I trust my ears. I don't trust you."

"That's too bad, junior," Jericho sighed. "That's really too bad. 'Cause I'm a really good person to be friends with if you want a shot at Angel."

"I'm not gonna share her with you," Jeff scowled. "I don't do that shit."

Jericho sighed again. One more try and he was done. Jeff could help himself.

"Read my lips, junior. I am not her boyfriend. Although she is looking to cast that role."

"She…she is?" Jeff frowned.

Jericho gave a smile. Bingo. "That's right. She told me so herself, on Thursday night, while we were drinking and talking. Now, she and I have become real close lately - not that close. I know she's a great girl and she deserves someone special. Someone who's close to her age. Someone who worships her, who'd do anything for her. You know anyone like that?"

Jeff stared up at him, distrust blazing in his green eyes. "Chris, if you're shitting me…"

"I swear, junior. But I can't do it for you. You have to get her yourself."

"Okay," Jeff nodded slowly. "Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome," Jericho replied, stepping over to the bench press.

"Oh, Chris?" Jeff called. "Sorry about tripping you before."

"That's okay," Jericho told him. "Just don't even think of trying it again."

Minutes later, the door to the ring area opened and Angel appeared, lugging a huge doll. She began looking around the room, a frown on her face. Jeff was just about to call out to her when she spotted Jericho at the bench press and broke into a broad grin. She was over there in no time, reaching out to give him a pat on the stomach. Then she touched his face, her palm lingering on his cheek as she said something, and finally she walked on through the gym.

Jeff frowned deeply. She'd walked past without even noticing him. She'd had eyes only for Jericho. And that grin. And all that touching. Every time he thought he believed his old friend, something happened to make him doubt again. Sooner or later it would end in the ring - Jeff was sure of it. But first of all he had to talk to Angel. If there was a small chance, any chance, that Jericho was telling the truth, that Jeff could win Angel back, well, he had to do it. He had to at least try. After all, she was the one.

* * * *

Angel stepped slowly through the doorway into the hotel restaurant. Once again she was alone. Still, she told herself not to complain. The weekend had actually been pretty good. After waking up in Jericho's arms in the bathroom at seven AM with a mammoth hangover and a mouth that tasted and felt like herbal sandpaper, she took a long drink of water, found her way into Jericho's bed and slept until noon. She hadn't felt much better when she woke up the second time, but at least she could go on living. A good thing, too. She hadn't been back in her own room for ten minutes when Trish had showed up, wanting to take her shopping.

Angel had reluctantly thrown on cargos, a tank and the hooded Radicalz sweatshirt - no makeup - and told Trish she could take it or leave it. Trish took it; they tracked down Lita and embarked on a day of retail therapy at West Edmonton Mall, supposedly the biggest in the world. Angel hadn’t bought much - that tape the AV guys had made had cost her a freaking fortune and she also carefully saved her money - just in case she ever escaped from Benoit but found herself without a contract. Trish more than made up for her, but promised that whatever she bought, Angel could borrow any time. Lita found the whole thing very amusing - picturing her taller cousin in a black sheath dress that was barely long enough to cover Trish just cracked her up. Not to mention imagining Angel in a long purple coat and matching cowboy hat. Still, Trish's heart was in the right place.

Yesterday, they'd traveled. She'd sat next to Jericho on the plane. He'd taught her a couple of card tricks and she'd showed him how to cheat at Gin Rummy, so it was all good. Later, they'd gone to see a David Spade movie. It was total crap, but they'd laughed their asses off anyway.

It was only at night, in bed, on her own, that Angel had thought of Benoit. Jericho was right. She couldn't have him. Never. She had to get over it and find someone else.

It was hard to get over, though, knowing that he'd be back tomorrow and she'd once again be sharing a suite with him. He was taking the last possible flight and would be arriving in Minnesota only a couple of hours before showtime. All because he wanted to spend the maximum amount of time with his family, God bless his little heart.

Angel sighed to herself. If things were tough now, what would they be like tomorrow? She was pretty sure she didn't want to know.

"Hmm?" she asked, suddenly realizing that someone was speaking to her. "Oh, table for one, thanks."

"Oh no, Angel," called a voice from behind her. "You have to eat with us."

Angel turned to see Trish standing with Steve Blackman.

"It's okay," she shrugged. "I don't mind eating alone."

"No, we won't let you do that, will we, Steve? Table for three," Trish rushed on, before Blackman could even reply.

"So, how are you, Angel?" Trish asked after they took their seats and placed their orders.

She shrugged, clutching at her glass of ice water. "I don't know. Tomorrow, I have to start dealing with him again, twenty-four, seven. I can't do it, Trish. I can't. I have to get out."

Trish pouted a little. "You mean out away from Benoit or out of the WWF?"

"Whichever," Angel replied. "Although I'm not having much luck with WCW. Do you guys know who Shane Helms is?"

"No," Trish shrugged. "Do you, Steve?"

Blackman nodded. "Nicknamed 'Sugar'. Six foot, about two hundred ten. Trained with Matt and Jeff Hardy's OMEGA organization. In the old WCW he was in a tag team called Three Count with Shannon Moore and Evan Karagias, and later just Moore. He's held the hardcore and cruiserweight titles and his finishers are called the Vertebreaker and the Nightmare on Helms Street, plus he had another signature move called the Sugar Rush."

Trish's mouth dropped open. "Oh my goodness, Steve. That was incredible!"

Blackman just gave a little shrug. "Hmm, thanks."

"Okay, Blackman," Angel said, also pretty impressed. "Maybe you can explain it to me, 'cause I really don't get it. Why, whenever I say Shane in relation to WCW, do people think I'm talking about Helms when I'm actually talking about McMahon? Is it because I'm female?"

"No," Blackman replied, matter-of-factly. "It's because you're a young female."

"So?" Angel frowned.

"Well, that and you dress like a Sugar Babe."

"A what?"

"The Sugar Babes were a group of young women who accompanied Shane Helms to the ring. You look like one of them."

"Oh, so Shane Helms is a bit of a pimp daddy, then?" Angel asked. "Right, 'cause I've been trying all week to get Shane McMahon to check out what I can do, but he won't talk to me, he won't return my calls. I kind of get the feeling he's avoiding me."

"If you don't mind my asking, why do you even want to go to WCW?" Blackman asked. "They're not even up and running over there."

"Maybe not," Angel shrugged. "But from what I've heard they've hired all their talent. All except for me, that is. Oh well, I guess I have to take my chances running into Shane, although it'd be a whole lot easier if it happened before tomorrow. I can't handle it. I seriously can't."

"Are you sure you want to leave?" Trish frowned. "I mean, you nearly left once before. I don't want it to happen again."

"I don't want it to, either," Angel sighed. "I mean, I have a history here. I have friends and enemies. I have you guys and Lita and Jericho. And then there are my goals, like beating Steven Richards. I'm not gonna be able to do that over at WCW. And to tell you the truth, I've never even really wanted to be a wrestler. I just sort of fell into it. But I can’t see any other way."

"How about fighting for your freedom?" Trish suggested. "You've beaten Chris before. You could do it again."

Angel nodded slowly. She'd thought of that, actually. "Two problems. First is…the reason I want to get away. If it's at all possible I'm never…ever getting in the ring with him again. Never. I have a sort of verbal contract with Jericho so he'll be my training partner, but not Benoit. Never again."

"Oh, right!" Trish cried, suddenly getting it. "What's the other problem?"

Angel sighed. Here was the part where she had to admit her limitations, something she hated doing. "I've beaten him once. He might not be that big, but he's bigger and a hell of a lot stronger than me. And if the stakes were really high, like him having to set me free, I know he wouldn't lose. Even if I got him in crossface again. He wouldn't tap. Not a chance. I only wish…I wish I had someone who would fight for me. But Jericho won’t, not while he needs Benoit as a tag partner. And that's pretty much the extent of my options. I'm not exactly popular with the men around here right now. You know, me and Jericho were trying to figure out someone for me to hookup with and we couldn't come up with anyone."

"Have you ever thought of asking me?" Blackman piped up suddenly, causing Trish and Angel to stare at him.

"Um, aren't you taken?" Angel frowned.

"No, I mean have you ever asked me to fight Benoit for you? I've known you a long time, since before this Benoit situation even came up, but you have never asked me. Did you ask Al?"

"No, I didn't. Back then I didn't know it was an option."

"Well, that's too bad," Blackman shrugged. "Because we both would have done it."

Angel was stunned. "You mean you'll fight for me?"

"Yeah," Blackman nodded. "Especially if you can get it booked for Raw or SmackDown. I can't guarantee I'll win it, but I'll do my best. And it won't hurt if you make it hardcore."

Angel still couldn't believe it. "You mean to tell me, you've been around all this time and I could have asked you so I didn't have to kiss Kurt Angle and William Regal's asses and you would have done it?"

Blackman nodded. "All you had to do was ask."

Trish bounced excitedly. "Ask him, Angel! Ask him!"

"Steve," Angel said breathlessly, staring into his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black. "Will you fight Benoit for me? Will you set me free?"

"Yeah, I'll do it," Blackman replied with another nod. "Just let me know when so I can prepare."

"Thank you!" Angel cried, leaping over the table to give him a huge hug. "Oh, sorry," she blurted, releasing him. "Trish, kiss him for me."

"With pleasure," Trish grinned, wrapping her arms around her man.

Angel was ecstatic. Sure, Steve Blackman might not be the greatest fighter in the WWF, but he was still good, and one of the more determined. If she could pull a coup by making it a hardcore match and if Benoit made the mistake of underestimating him, anything was possible. Finally, she'd be free - and she wouldn't even have to hunt down Shane. She'd be able to start contract negotiations on her own time - with WWF, with WCW, with whoever she pleased. Finally, things seemed to be going right.

* * * *

Angel sat on her bed, tuning her guitar. She hadn’t played for awhile - too busy or too tired, but she was trained out for the day and it beat being along - really alone. And it beat thinking bout Benoit. She didn't have to anymore - that problem was taking care of itself.

She played through her one and only songbook, then plucked out a couple of songs form memory - 'Every Morning' by Sugar Ray and 'Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)' by Green Day. She didn't hear the knock and didn’t notice the door opening and the person entering.

"I hope you had the time of your life," she sang before breaking into the final instrumental section.

"Oh! You are really bad at that!"

Angel's fingers skidded across the strings as she looked up to find Jericho standing there, a smirk on his face. She instantly formed some new chords and started singing, "Screw you, Jerky, screw you."

Jericho just laughed. "And you have the gall to slam my music?"

Angel continued her song. "Go to hell and die, you bleach blond freak with demented facial hair."

"That's good, coming from a girl who looks like a guy," Jericho shot back as the phone rang.

Angel grinned at him, placed her guitar down on the bed and went to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Angel?"

"Yep. Who's this?"

"It's uh…it's Jeff."

"Oh hi!" she cried, embarrassed at not recognizing his voice. "What's up?"

Jeff let himself feel hopeful. That was a friendlier greeting than he'd expected. He stared to answer.

"Oh, just a second, Jeff. Put it down! I mean it, put it down. Thank you. Now Jeff, you were saying?"

Jeff sighed. "If this is a bad time, I can talk to you later."

"No, it's fine," Angel rushed, her voice full of laughter. "I've just got Mr. Rockstar in here, trying to play my guitar. And I stress 'trying'."

"Oh." Jeff paused. "Listen, Angel, I…"

"Jerky, for God's sake, I'm on the phone! Sorry, Jeff. What was that?"

One more try and then he was going to hang up. "You wanna go get a coffee or something? There's this place over the river, a whole lot of cool people hang out there and I thought you might like to get out of the hotel for a while."

"Sounds great," Angel enthused.

"It does?"

"Yeah, I do get a little stir crazy sometimes. Can I bring Jericho?"

"Um…" Jeff paused.

"Oh, that's okay, Jeff. He said he's got some sort of appearance today."

"Oh. Well, do you still want to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Angel smiled.

"Well, great. That's great, Angel. I'll meet you down in the lobby in a few minutes?"

"Sure. See you then."

Angel put down the phone, then spun to Jericho, who was still playing her guitar.

"I know what that is," she accused. "That's your damn Fozzy song."

"You got it, baby," Jericho replied, continuing and singing along as he played.

"Oh God, Jerky, would you please shut the hell u? You even sound like that loser. What's his name? The Mongoose Machine?"

Jericho paused just long enough to correct her. "Moongoose McQueen."

"Yeah, whatever. Well, I have to go. When you're done destroying my guitar you can let yourself out."

Jericho just grinned and nodded as she left the room.

* * * *

Angel sat across from Jeff in an oversized armchair, sipping on her mocha latte and watching the people around her. They were mostly college-aged, funky looking and they held intelligent, passionate conversations on anything from politics to music.

"We haven’t done this in a while," Jeff said suddenly. "It's nice, I think."

Angel nodded. "Yeah, it's good to get away for awhile."

"So, what have you been up to, Angel? Since we last talked."

Angel shrugged. "Steve Blackman's going to fight for me so I can finally get away from Benoit. And I think I'm pretty close to getting a contract."

Jeff couldn't help but smile at the excited glimmer in her eyes. "That's fantastic. And you and Chris Jericho seem to be getting along pretty good."

Angel grinned enthusiastically. "Yeah, Jerky's great. We have fun, we tease each other. I um…" She paused, suddenly uncomfortable, before continuing with a confident nod. "He makes everything okay. You know hat I mean?"

Jeff frowned. No, he didn't know. And he wanted to know. He had to know. "Well, y'all seemed to be having a real good time Thursday night."

Angel was startled. "What is this? An interrogation?"

"No, no, of course not. It's just…" He formed a self-deprecating smile. "I was in the room next door. You guys were kinda loud."

"Oh," Angel frowned. "Sorry. I guess we got pretty wild, didn't we?"

That wasn't what Jeff wanted to hear. Not at all.

"That's okay," he lied, taking a sip of his coffee so she wouldn't be able to tell. "I just…you remember how Matt and Lita, before that match against Dean…they always used to…I guess what I'm trying to say is…if you're in a relationship…with another wrestler, I mean, it's good to keep things quiet, so people don't know, so people can't try to…"

"Jeff." Angel cut him off by putting her hand over his. "Me and Jericho. It's not a relationship. We're just friends."

Jeff frowned and involuntarily started moving his thumb against her hand, stroking it gently. "You mean, on Thursday night, you and Chris didn't sleep together?"

"No!" Angel cried, pulling her hand away, a furious blush starting in her cheeks. "Is that what people think?"

"Well…" Jeff paused. "You were pretty loud, like I said."

"Well, we didn't. I mean, we did sleep together, but…"

"What?" Jeff cried.

Angel cringed. "I mean…I slept with him. No, wait, that's not what I mean. We didn't have sex, Jeff."

"You didn't?" Jeff asked, distrustfully. "But y'all slept together?"

"Yeah, I got really drunk and he held me while I threw up. Pretty romantic, huh?"

Jeff let out a huge sigh.

"What do you want from me, Jeff?" Angel asked suddenly. "Why'd you ask me here? Was it just to find out if I'm screwing Jericho?"

"No, of course not," Jeff protested.

"I almost wish it was," Angel told him. "'Cause this…it isn’t a date, Jeff."

"I know that!"

"Now, don't get pissed," Angel snapped. "I had every right to say that. You can't blame me for being a little confused. Last week you told me you wanted me back and now you ask me here and grill me about my love life. I thought I told you I'm not looking for a boyfriend. Right now I'm having enough trouble dealing with my own life. I don't need to be worrying about someone else, too. If you want to be friends again, that's great, but nothing more, okay?"

Jericho squeezed his eyes shut. Why had Jericho told him Angel was looking for love? If he'd know he was going to have to go through this again…

"You need to get over yourself, Angel."

"Excuse me?"

"This isn't a date and I wasn't trying to pick you up. I just thought it'd be nice to take you away for awhile. I thought you could use the break."

But Angel was in defensive mode. "Don't do my any favors. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Jeff sighed. "But you don't have to. There are plenty of people around who care about you, who are willing to make your life easier. All you have to do is ask."

"Yeah. Jerky, Trish and Lita. That's all I need. So, you don't need to worry about it, Jeff. I've got my best friend; I've got my girls. I'll be fine."

Jeff gave her a skeptical frown. "A minute ago you said you wanna be friends and now you're taking that back? And you're wondering why I'm confused?"

Angel let out a deep sigh and ran her hand over her hair.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, staring at her hands. "I'm just really tense at the moment. I've got a lot on my mind. I know that's no excuse but…" She shrugged dramatically.

"You wanna talk about it?" Jeff asked gently.

Angel gave a humorless little laugh and gripped her cup. "No. Trust me, you don't want to hear it. Things are looking up, though. Once Blackman beats Benoit and I'm free."

"Oh, it's about Benoit," Jeff said knowingly.

"Yup," Angel nodded. "It always is, isn't it? He's at the bottom of all my problems. Always has been."

Jeff cocked his head and examined her profile. She looked tired. Tired and uptight.

"Angel," he started. "For the record. The title belt and the chair. Did you mean to hit me?"

She frowned and turned to stare intently into his light green eyes. Jeff. I adored you. Why would I hit you on purpose?"

And then his arms were around her. "Oh, Angel. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay, Jeff," she replied, patting him gently on the back. Still, she couldn't help but think that her life would be so much easier if he'd just believed her in the first place.

Jeff gripped her tightly as he tried to stop tears from filling his eyes. No wonder she wouldn't hear of taking him back.

'Someday she'll forgive me,' he told himself. 'I just have to make amends.'