STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, JULY 1ST, 2001

“Mmm, oh…Benoit. Oh yes…”

Angel’s muffled moans echoed throughout the hotel room. Chris Jericho grabbed for one of his pillows and buried his head under it, pulling it tightly around his ears. Now this he didn’t need. Not at…what? Five AM? Terrific. But then, soon she’d probably get into the part of the dream where those screams stopped being lustful and started being terrified, and he’d have to go comfort her, easing her into wakefulness before her screams had the same effect on everyone in the entire hotel. Damn Benoit. It was strange that one man could be responsible for screwing someone up so badly, but Angel was proof in the pudding. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jericho threw the pillow back down on the bed and slammed his head against it. Out of courtesy to fellow hotel guests, he was forced to listen to Orgasmic Angel™, available on CD or cassette from all good record stores. Just great.

“Oh yes,” she was gasping. “Oh, more…yes…oh yes, Benoit, yes!”

‘Oh no, Angel, no,” Jericho thought, wrapping his blankets more tightly around his body and trying to get comfortable.

Which version of the dream was he going to be subjected to tonight? The short one, which as far as he could tell, wasn’t much more than a quick grope before the realization that yes, Virginia, there is a broken neck about to happen? Or maybe it’d be the long one, the truly X-rated one. Rogue may have looked sweet enough, but damn she knew how to talk dirty. Benoit really must have brought out the worst in her. And yet, the girl never remembered any of these dreams once they were over, or so she said, anyway, so apparently they were just created for Jericho’s listening pleasure. Whenever he had a sex dream as hot as that long one, he remembered it for days, weeks even…pretty much until he next got laid.

‘It’s been awhile,’ he realized, leaning back heavily and resting his hands on his bare stomach.

“Oh God, yes,” Angel was moaning. “More, please. Harder. Oh…oh…oh…”

“Don’t be fooled, folks,” Jericho muttered, splaying his hands together. “Not even dream Rogue is having sex. She’s yet to tell dream Benny that she wants him and although that should be abundantly clear, she always does it, even in the short version.”

He sincerely hoped the short version was all he was getting tonight, because if he had to be subjected to Rogue telling Benoit to spank her once more, well, he’d turn her out on her ass. Let cousin Lita deal with her. He knew he’d never do that, though. Not really. Lita would probably have a conniption if she got an earful of what Jericho was enduring right now. He couldn’t do it, any more than he could put her in a room on her own. She needed him right now and hell, people could call him Saint Jericho, the Paragon of Virtue, the golden haired Jesus wannabe, it really didn’t matter. The truth was, he’d always like charity projects. Rogue’d probably pop him one if she thought he considered her as charity, but if he could make her better, then perfect. That’s all he wanted. Besides, she wasn’t really a charity case, although she was pretty sad right now. Sometimes, when she let those little glimmers of normality shine through the darkness, she was a whole world of fun and there wasn’t really anyone he’d rather spend time with. She reminded him of himself at about her age, just after he’d entered the business. She was exuberant and motivated enough to think that she could take on the world, that if she wanted to take on Stone Cold Steve Assclown for the federation title, she’d beat him. No questions asked. Jericho liked that. It was scary, but he liked that. She called him her best friend and he had to admit he was fond of her, too. Very fond of her. Now, if only she could please shut the hell up, she’d be absolutely perfect.

“I want you,” she said breathlessly, voice so clear it was almost a stage whisper. “Please. I want you to fuck me. Please, Chris. Fuck me.”

“Shit,” Jericho swore, rubbing his legs together slightly. Sometimes he could get her through the whole dream without the first name being used once. This time, it seemed, he wasn’t going to be that lucky. He listened intently for a couple of seconds, waiting for the terrified screams of “No! You can’t go!” But instead he heard her moans of pleasure and an almost purring sound as dream Rogue got exactly what she wanted.

Apparently, the long version was incoming, no pun intended. If that was the case, this was going to get worse long before it got better.

“Oh, yes, Chris,” she whispered. “That’s so good…so good. Oh yeah. More, Chris, more. Oh…oh…”

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Damn Benoit for destroying Rogue like this, damn him for ever getting involved with her in the first place, but most of all, damn him for having the same name as Jericho. It just wasn’t fair. If you heard a woman screaming your name in the throes of passion, what the hell were you supposed to do? It didn’t matter that those cries weren’t meant for you. It didn’t matter that the woman was your platonic friend and nothing more. If you heard your name being called out like that, you had to respond. And respond Jericho did, his body reacting with embarrassing exuberance.

“She’s not talking about you,” he hissed, as if that’d make any difference. “Just calm down.”

“Oh, Chris…” She paused a while, making garbled noises in her throat and sucking sounds with her mouth. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. Of course, he could always go wake her up right now, but she had a big match tonight and needed every minute of sleep she could possibly get.

‘You’re just too considerate for your own good, Jericho,’ he thought to himself. ‘Yep, that’s what my mother always said.’ Oh, terrific. Not only was he horny over his best friend, uncomfortably horny, he realized, moving his hips a little, but now he was thinking of his mother as well. As if a situation could get more embarrassing and wrong.

“I want to taste you,” said Angel, her voice low and thick with desire.

‘Oh, terrific,’ Jericho thought, struggling desperately to get comfortable. ‘Apparently it can get more embarrassing and wrong.’

“Do you want a blowjob, Chris?” Angel asked silkily, her voice sexy as all hell. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

‘Do I ever,’ Jericho thought, closing his eyes languidly. They shot open suddenly as he realized what he was doing. ‘No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Control yourself, Jericho.’

Not easy with the noises she was making with her throat, with her mouth.

‘I bet she gives great head,’ he thought. ‘At least Benoit seemed to be enjoying it when I walked in on them that one time. She was gonna give me head that once when we were drunk but I pushed her away. What was I thinking?’

A strangled groan left his lips as he realized exactly how turned on he really was. If Rogue offered to suck him off for real right now, he wouldn’t be refusing her. No way. Friend or no friend, he’d let her get to work.

She was humming quietly, her breathing heavy and he could only imagine what dream Rogue was doing to dream Benny at that moment. Lucky bastard.

Suddenly, Jericho realized something frightening. He was in desperate need of a release. He had a couple of choices, neither of them desirable. Firstly, he could go take a shower and risk not hearing those terrified screams when they did start. Or else, he could just lie here and get himself off and then live with the shame of what he’d done just because Rogue was having a very vocal sex dream. Still, she didn’t have to know. It wasn’t as though she was about to jump in bed with him – if she was it’d solve all his problems.

“Chris…please…oh Chris!” she cried suddenly, voice urgent. “I want you…please…fuck me now. Please, Chris…now!”

“Oh God,” Jericho groaned. “If you ask once more I’ll oblige you.”

“Oh yes…yes…Chris, yes!” she moaned. “Harder, Chris…oh yes. Harder…harder…oh…yes…Benoit!”

‘Turnoff!' Jericho’s mind screamed. ‘Not your name. Big time turnoff. Doesn’t matter, ignore it, ignore it.’

“Oh…oh God…oh God yes, Chris…oh, oh, oh…”

‘That’s it,’ Jericho thought as his thinking actually became muddled. ‘Just a little more…just a little…’

And then suddenly Rogue was silent.

“Oh no,” Jericho moaned. “Not now, please, not now.”

She gave a little laugh – God, it was sexy – and fell silent again.

‘Dammit!’ Jericho thought. ‘Not yet. I’m not…’

“Wait!” screamed Angel. “You can’t go! Please! Don’t go out there.”

“Shit,” Jericho spat, climbing uncomfortably out of bed. “Rogue’s gonna owe me for this. She’s gonna owe me big time.”

“Please, Chris, please!” Angel roared, thrashing about violently. “You’re going to break your neck. You can’t! I love you. I love you.”

“Oh, baby,” Jericho sighed, sitting beside her and drawing her into his arms. “When are you going to get over this?”

“I love you,” she sobbed, clutching him tightly. “I love you so much. Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

He held her to his chest, gently stroking her back. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Chris,” she whispered, digging her fingers into his back. “I love you with all my heart. Please, please don’t go through with this.”

Okay, so she was almost awake. Just a couple of exchanges and she’d be up and Jericho? Well, he’d still be up. Damn Benoit.

“Baby, I’ve got you. It’s me. I’ve got you.”

She was rubbing her face against his chest, her hands massaging his shoulders.

“I’ll never let you go, Chris,” she murmured, suddenly peppering his chest with kisses. “Never let you go.”

Jericho swallowed deeply. This was a new one. She’d always woken up so easily once he’d started talking. Until now, apparently.

“Uh, baby?” he faltered, cringing at how turned on he still was. “It’s me…you know? Jerky?” How apt that name seemed this morning.

“Mmm, Chris,” she replied, flicking her tongue out on his red-hot skin. “I’m so glad you’re here. I want you so bad.”

She was sucking on his neck, dammit, she was sucking on his neck.

Using every ounce of willpower her had, Jericho grabbed her by the shoulders and started to ease her away. “Baby? It’s not…”

“Shh!” She interrupted him by pressing her finger to his lips, replacing it in less than a second by her own lips. Her tongue invaded his mouth, massaging the inside, twining with his own tongue. Shit, that was erotic. And what could he do? She had her hands tightly pressed against the back of his head, clamping their mouths together. She pulled back just a little, so she could murmur against his lips. “Don’t talk. Just fuck me.”

That said, she violently grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him down on the bed, never breaking the kiss. She was straddling him, her back arched in a perfect curve as she moved her hips wildly.

“Or better yet,” she breathed into his mouth. “Let me fuck you. Do you want me to fuck you, Chris?”

Jericho let out a whimper. What the hell was he supposed to do? She had him pinned. He couldn’t stop her, even if he wanted to. And right now he wasn’t sure he did want to. He needed this release, at least as much as she wanted Benoit. If she’d stop moving, stop grinding against him for just a second, maybe he’d be able to think. Maybe.

Her mouth was on his neck now, sucking him, nibbling him as her hands worked on his chest, talented fingers stroking, teasing.

“Remember that time I tied you up?” she asked against his neck. “Remember how hot that was? So fucking hot.” And just then she bit into his neck, making him cry out. “Oh, you like that?” For a second he thought she was going to bite him again, but she clamped her mouth back down on his. Her kisses were so hot and he was so damn horny. What to do? What to do?

Her hands were playing across his stomach now, right where he was sensitive. This was bad, this was really bad. But hey, she’d thrown him down, right? She was kissing him. And sure, his hands were on the back of her head, buried in her hair, but that was just so he could push her away, right? Right?

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Benoit,” she murmured, voice thick with sex. “I just wanna spend the rest of my life fucking you. But first, I’ve gotta get these shorts off you.” She was nibbling and sucking the other side of his neck now and then, just like that, his shorts were halfway down his legs.

“Christ, Rogue!” he blurted as she bit his neck again, her hands working down from where the shorts had been.

Suddenly, Angel’s eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright.

“Oh my God! Jerky! Oh my God!” She leaped off the bed, landing on her feet as her hands flew to her wide-open mouth. “I’m so sorry. I thought…oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Jericho muttered, crawling back so that he was sitting up. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, and Angel knew it. “I’m so sorry, Jerky. I thought you were…”

“Benoit, I know,” Jericho told her uneasily as he blinked heavily, trying to calm himself down. “I tried to tell you, but…”

Angel cringed. “I was having that dream again, wasn’t I?” Jericho nodded and she let out a sigh. “I swear I don’t remember. All I remember is waking up in your arms and thinking it was Benoit, so I decided, hell, I love him, I’m gonna jump him. I’m so sorry.”

Jericho waved her off, grabbing the rumpled sheet around himself so she couldn’t see exactly how not okay it was. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll meet you at the gym?”

Angel nodded dumbly, yanking her pajama top down to make sure it was covering her as Jericho found his feet and started towards the bathroom. “I’m really sorry, Jerky.”

He stopped and turned back, a meek smile on his face. “Hey, baby. What are friends for?”

* * * *

“What you doing, baby?” Jericho asked, towel drying his long blonde hair as he left the bathroom after his second shower of the day.

Angel was lying on her stomach on her bed, eyes fixed on the TV, which was playing the tag match from SmackDown. She played about ten seconds until the three count, then rewound it and played it again.
Without turning to him, she reached down to the bed beside her, picked up a piece of paper and held it up.

Jericho unfolded it and read the words. It was a booking sheet for Sunday Night Heat and it didn’t take long to find Rogue’s name. Number one contender’s match for the light heavyweight championship. Fair enough, but there was one minor problem. Rogue didn’t have one opponent. She had three – Tajiri, Scotty 2 Hotty and Jerry Lynn. Apparently there was some sort of midget convention going on tonight and Rogue had a backstage pass.

“Uh, baby?” he called. “This might seem like a moot point, but shouldn’t you be watching your old ECW tapes for Lynn and Tajunior? And, if you want to know how to take down Scotty, shooter-style you should check out his match against Dean Malurkel from Backlash 2000. The little freak didn’t have a chance.”

“Okay,” Angel sighed. “I know I should be watching those tapes, ‘cause I already know my moves, right?”

“You bet, baby,” Jericho grinned.

“But I was just wondering about my double moonsault/senton. What do you think of it?”

“That move?” Jericho frowned, watching the TV. “Smooth, baby. Real smooth.”

“I like it too.” She broke into a little smile. “It makes me feel like I can fly. I think I’m gonna use it as my finisher.”

“Good choice,” Jericho agreed. “I can tell you now, no one else’s pulling off that move.”

“So my problem’s this,” Angel went on. “What am I going to call it? Somehow I don’t think double moonsault/senton’s gonna get over with the crowd.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jericho muttered.

“So, any ideas?” she asked him. “’Cause I’ve been watching this for about ten minutes now and I’ve got nothing.”

Jericho frowned at the image of Angel flying through the air three times in a row.

“You use the ropes like steps, right, baby?” he mused, getting a nod in response. “So, how about the Twelve Step Program? Than you’ve got me with the Jerichoholics and you with your Twelve Step Program.”

“I like it,” Angel told him. “Only one problem. There’s three steps, not twelve.”

“Okay,” Jericho grinned. “Three Steps To Recovery?”

“Better,” Angel replied. “But three doesn’t have the same ring to it as twelve. We’ll just have to keep thinking because frankly, I’ve got nothing.”

“Angel’s Flight?” Jericho suggested.

“Oh, Jerky, that’s piss-poor!” Angel cried. “Besides, I already thought of it. That and the Torres Tumble. Just pathetic.”

“Rogue Rampage?” Jericho postulated. “Rogue Revolution?”

“How about Rogue Ricochet?” Angel grinned. “Or Angel Atomizer. Seriously, Jerky. Alliteration’s fun, but I’m looking for something a little more…I don’t know. A little more like your Walls of Jericho. You know, something clever, but something undeniably Angel.”

“I’ve got it!” Jericho blurted. “Okay, bear with me, because I’m back on the steps thing. Your name’s Angel, right, baby? And angels are from up above. How about Stairway To Heaven?”

Angel’s mouth dropped open. “Jerky! I love it!”

“Me too,” Jericho grinned. “It’s a good one, alright. Stairway To Heaven.”

Angel leaped over and threw her arms around him. “You’re the greatest, Jerky.”

“Hey, you’re welcome baby,” Jericho smiled, hugging her tightly.

Angel pulled back to arm’s length away from him. “And I’m really, really sorry about this morning.”

“It’s okay,” Jericho assured her. “But, just so you know. The next time I hear you say, ‘You wanna fuck, Chris?’ I don’t care if it’s in your sleep or it’s not meant for me. I’m taking you up on your offer.”

Angel cringed. “I really said that?”

“Amongst other things,” Jericho sighed.

“Oh God,” Angel muttered, flopping onto the bed and burying her face in her hands. “I am so sorry. It’s just…I love him and I miss him and he was seriously the best sex I’ve ever had. I can’t just get over that straight away, you know?”

“I know,” Jericho nodded. “But it’s been three weeks since you were last with him. Maybe you should start seeing someone.”

“Like a date?” Angel frowned.

“No,” Jericho sighed. “Like a shrink. You’re getting worse, Rogue, not better. And I’m trying to help you, but I don’t know what to do about these dreams. If what happened this morning happens again…I’m only human, baby and this morning we came very, very close to doing something we’d both regret. If that happens again…”

“You don’t want to share a room with me anymore?” Angel asked matter-of-factly. “I told you it was a bad idea. But, let me remind you, it was your idea, not mine. I’ll be perfectly fine in my own room.”

“Of course I still want you as my roommate, baby,” Jericho argued. “I just think you should see someone who’s better at dealing with stuff like this than I am.”

“I’m not seeing any shrink,” Angel scowled. “Because he’s only gonna tell me that I’m crazy for being a wrestler. He won’t give a crap about my thing with Benoit.”

“You don’t have to tell him…or her…that you wrestle. It’s just someone to vent to about other stuff, the stuff that bothers you, the stuff that upsets you.”

“I don’t need a shrink!” Angel insisted. “What I need is to do some research for my match. Backlash 2000, you said? I think I have that one, because it was a light heavyweight title match.” Declaring the topic officially closed, she switched tapes and sat back to watch, silently fast-forwarding through D-Generation X versus Edge and Christian. And then, in the second match of the show, there was Scotty. He was followed out by the then-champion, Dean Malenko.

“Malenko,” Angel muttered. “Malenko, Malenko, Malenko. You know, Jerky. Malenko was hitting on me and Benoit got rid of him by kissing me, right in the catering room. Why would he do that?”

“Because he wanted to show Malurkel that he owned you,” Jericho sighed. “Damn Benoit.”

“I wish I could see him again,” Angel whispered, focusing on Malenko but obviously seeing Benoit. “I miss him so much. Is he…do you know if he’s still in San Antonio?”

“I don’t know,” Jericho muttered, not particularly wanting to go through the whole ‘Benoit doesn’t love you’ thing again.

“Jerky,” Angel said tearfully. “You’d tell me, right? If you heard from him, you’d tell me?”

“Of course, baby,” Jericho replied. He paused a moment. “I heard from Benoit.”

Angel spun to him frantically. “You did? When? How is he? When’s he coming back?”

Jericho sighed. “He’s fine. He had his surgery on Wednesday and he called me on Friday. The surgery went really well. In fact, he wanted to go jogging on the day he called me, but they wouldn’t let him. He was pretty pissed off about that.”

Angel gave a tearful laugh. “Sounds just like him. So, um, when’s he coming back?”

Jericho’s heart just about broke at the hope on her face. Poor little Rogue. “It’s like we thought. He’ll be gone about a year.”

“A year, huh?” she asked with a little nod. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah,” Jericho sighed. “But hey, it’s already been about a week. Only fifty-one to go.”

“Right,” Angel muttered. “Well, I guess I better get on to…what I have to do. Just…let me know whenever you talk to him, okay? It’s good to know…just that he’s okay. I just want him to be okay.”

“You bet, baby,” Jericho sighed again, watching as she concentrated on the Scotty/Malenko match. “You bet.” Even then he knew it was a promise he’d have a very hard time keeping.

* * * *

Angel watched with a frown as Scotty 2 Hotty danced towards the ring. For about a week she’d lived across the hall from him and Grandmaster Sexay, but she’d obviously forgotten what a freak he was.
Tajiri looked even more bewildered than Angel did. He muttered something while shaking his head furiously at Scotty. Angel didn’t speak a word of Japanese, but she had a pretty good idea what he’d said. “What in the hell is that?”

Scotty bounced into the ring, urging the crowd to clap their hands and grinning psychotically at Angel and Tajiri. But they weren’t yet ready to start. They still had one person to wait for.

One final song hit and Jerry Lynn made his way down the ramp, holding up one hand to the crowd and making the heavy metal devil worship sign.

‘Great,’ Angel thought, shuffling her feet a little. ‘My opponents are a psycho, a Satanist and a foreigner. Just great.’

“Okay, gather round,” referee Teddy Long was saying. “And don’t you be thinking of starting before the bell, or I’ll disqualify both your asses.” He was talking to Tajiri, who at that moment was eyeing Scotty as if he truly was a worm. “I got the low down on this match from Commissioner Regal himself.”

“What are you talking about?” Angel frowned. “It’s a fatal fourway number one contender’s match, isn’t it?”

“No, it ain’t,” Teddy replied. “What we got here is a tag team elimination match. Eliminations can be by pinfall, submission or throwing your opponent over the top rope and having both feet touch the ground.”

‘I bet that one was put in just for me,’ Angel thought, looking down at her hundred and fifty pound body and thinking about how easily it flew through the air.

“What’s this about a tag match?” Jerry Lynn frowned. “What the hell’s that about?”

“Teams are Tajiri and Torres, 2 Hotty and Lynn,” Teddy explained. “Like I said, it’s elimination. The number one contender is the last man…or woman standing. Are we ready to go?”

“Hold it,” Jerry Lynn blurted. “What about if me and Scotty here down these two losers first? What then?”

“Well, you’ll play off. Now, let’s get started.”

Angel frowned over at Tajiri. Had he understood a word of what the ref had said? Did he know he was supposed to be Angel’s tag partner? Regal had really stacked things up against her this time. God bless him.

“Alright, Jiri,” she muttered, leading him to their corner. “How about you let me go first?”

“First?” Tajiri echoed blankly.

“Forget it,” Angel sighed. “Just climb out of the ring. Out…like this.” She mimed what she wanted him to do and he finally climbed through the ropes.

Angel heaved a sigh of relief and turned to see who she’d be facing first. Apparently it was Minnesota’s own, Jerry Lynn.

She sized him up carefully, noticing how well conditioned he was, despite not having had many…if any…matches since losing his title to Jeff Hardy. From what she’d seen, Lynn was a very similar fighter to herself. Although he didn’t favor as much high risk as she did, he was a gun when it came to mat wrestling. He wasn’t an easy opponent, not by any stretch of the imagination. She only hoped he had the same respect for her. Well, if he didn’t, he soon would.

The bell rang and they circled, ready to lock up. The lockup itself was over quickly, with Lynn asserting authority, shoving Angel in the face and going for the armwringer and forcing her to her knees. She reversed quickly into an armwringer of her own, only to have him roll out and put it back on her.

‘Anything you can do,’ Angel thought, rolling through the hold and trying to twist Jerry’s arm with her and managing to pin it behind his back.

‘Hmm, what now?’ she thought. ‘Modified powerbomb? Slam, perhaps?’

Lynn weighed about two fifteen, so either was possible. But, before she had the chance to do anything, Lynn reached his free hand back around her neck in the hammerlock and pulled the snapmare forward. Angel hit the deck with a thud but, just as she waited for the cover, none came. She clambered to her feet and found that Jerry Lynn was staring right back at her.

“Come on, girl,” he said, blue eyes sparkling. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Okay, apparently they were locking up again. Angel ran at Lynn and tried for the headlock, but he broke it by shoving her into the ropes. Angel set herself as they were about to collide and thud. Lynn hit the deck. Angel with the shoulder block. She’d done it. Now, finish this early. She jumped over him and ran at the ropes, only to have him leapfrog her, running in the other direction. She leapfrogged him, then hit the second rope for the corkscrew moonsault, but Lynn wasn’t there and she had to adjust into a little roll. While she was down, Lynn hit the other ropes and caught her with the crossbody, but she shoved him off before the count could start, then armdragged him to the canvas. She leaped up, only to be armdragged herself. She bounced to her feet, somewhat confused. Damn. This Lynn character was one hell of a wrestler.

She gave him an impressed nod as he, amazingly, did the same to her. She took a wary step towards him, extending her hand.

“You’re good,” she told him.

“I know,” he replied, slapping her hand. “Now, show me what else you’ve got.”

Angel held up one hand for the lockup, keeping her eyes on Lynn’s, then the other hand, only to feel a knee to her gut. Lynn got her in the headlock and she shoved him away, but this time he scored with the shoulder block. Angel rolled along the canvas as Lynn went for momentum off the ropes, then leapfrogged him, but he grabbed her, setting her up for a tilt-a-whirl slam. Angel reversed somehow, pulling him down in the armdrag and going for the cover, but Lynn leaped on her, eventually flipping her over using a monkey grip on her head. Angel landed catlike on her feet and spun around, absolutely dumbfounded. Lynn was waiting for her again.

“Come on, girl,” he called. “This is fun.”

But Angel just frowned at him. She had nothing left. Anything she tried, he matched. She couldn’t go high risk because she couldn’t knock him down and he slipped out of anything remotely resembling a submission hold. She was going to have to think about this one. So, she turned to her corner and tagged in Tajiri. Tajiri knew Lynn from their ECW days. Let him deal with the guy. But, as soon as Tajiri entered the ring, he stared over at Scotty, who was bouncing on the ropes, and called him out.

“Huh?” Angel frowned as she gripped the ropes and caught her breath. “Why does he want Scotty?”

Lynn just gave a shrug and tagged in Scotty, who climbed through the ropes and, grinning maniacally at Tajiri, began moonwalking across the ring, much to the delight of the crowd. Tajiri didn’t know quite what to make of him and the next thing he knew, he was down, courtesy of a sharp elbow, right to the face. Tajiri retaliated with a few hard martial arts kicks, but Scotty caught the third and sent him for a back body drop, then started boogeying all over the place.

A dazed Tajiri went for momentum off the ropes, but Scotty did the same and scored with the clothesline before hitting the ropes again. Tajiri leapfrogged him, but, as Scotty tried to do the same, Tajiri landed another hard kick, right to Scotty’s gut. Tajiri picked him up for the powerbomb, only to have him drop out and hit an armdrag. Tajiri bounced right up with a knife-edge chop and then Irish whipped Scotty, only to have it reversed. Tajiri flew into the ropes and scored with the springboard elbow, one of his best moves.

Angel actually applauded as Scotty lay on his back, kicking his legs all over the place.

“Okay, Jiri!” she shouted. “Finish him!”

Tajiri broke into a psychotic grin and landed a savage kick to the side of Scotty’s head, and then a second. He grabbed Scotty by the head and casually tossed aside his “lid”, then backed him up into the corner. Bam! One knife-edge. Bam! Two knife-edges and a whip to the other side. Tajiri tried the tilt-a-whirl, but Scotty landed on his feet, grabbed Tajiri’s head and bam! Bulldog! He stood over Tajiri’s body, arms and legs spread, crying out joyously as the crowd went wild. And, as they began to chant, he began to hop. W-O-R-M! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! He brought his hand down sharply on Tajiri’s chest and made the cover.

“One! Two!”

Just then, Angel flew in with the missile dropkick, connecting with Scotty and her own partner and breaking the hold. She ran back to her corner as the ref shouted at her. Frowning, Scotty crawled over to Lynn and made the tag.

“Come on, Tajiri!” Angel cried. “Tag me! Tag me!”

But it was too late. Lynn already had him in the armwringer. Tajiri ran around and found the ropes before they traded punches and kicks for a while.

“Come on, Tajiri!” Angel cried. “Come on!”

Lynn shoved him into the corner and hit the knife-edge before whipping him into the other corner and landing the clothesline. Tajiri dropped to the canvas and Lynn sank his boot into Tajiri’s head before doing the same chop/whip combination as before. Tajiri met him with a headbutt, then crawled through the ropes and locked on the tarantula.

Scotty danced over from the corner to break the hold and Angel ran in to even things up. She couldn’t lose her partner yet. Yet. Once they eliminated one of the others, things’d be a whole lot different. She was pretty sure she could handle Scotty on her own, but Lynn? He was good, real good.

The ref forced her back to her corner, but she didn’t have to wait long for the tag. Neither, it seemed, did Scotty, who suddenly whipped her into a corner. She leaped in the tip off as he ran at her, then she locked on the waistlock. Bam! One German. Bam! Two Germans. Bam! Three Germans into a bridge.

“One! Two!”

Only two. Keeping her cool, Angel scooped him up and tried to whip him into the ropes but he reversed and sent her instead. He caught her on the return in a suplex hold and began to lift her but she twisted around and bam! Flying head scissors. She whipped him into the ropes and met him with a knee to the abdomen, then went for some momentum of her own, only to have Scotty grab the ropes in the low bridge sending her sailing over the top. She flailed her arms frantically, knowing that if her feet hit the ground she was eliminated. Somehow her hands found rope and she flipped herself back through the bottom and between Scotty’s legs. She hit the ground running and bounced off the ropes, then nailed the baseball slide, forcing Scotty through the bottom two ropes and onto the ground. She climbed through after him onto the apron and, the second he looked like getting up, bam! Hurricanrana. Suddenly, Jerry Lynn flew from nowhere in the crossbody and bam! Angel was down. Seconds later, Tajiri climbed through the ropes, bounced off the middle one in the Asai moonsault and bam! Lynn was down. Tajiri frowned down at the bodies and spotted Scotty lying on the bottom of the pile. He reached out, grabbed Scotty by the hair and dragged him back towards the ring.

Angel picked herself up, using the announce desk for support, and noticed that she was alone with Jerry Lynn.

‘He wants me to impress him?’ she thought. ‘I’ll impress him.’

She turned back to the announce desk and unhooked the monitors, then grinned down at Jerry, who was just beginning to stir. It was time to make a big impression. She hoisted him to his feet and then bam! Snap suplex onto the announce table, right in the very middle. Then she darted under the ring, grabbed something and pulled it out. Ladder. Not one of those freaky painter’s ladders Jeff used. This one would do quite nicely. She set it up quickly and climbed up top. Then, not daring to look over her shoulder in case she lost her balance, she flew in the moonsault. Crash! She connected with Lynn and the announce desk disintegrated.

“There you go, Lynn,” Angel murmured, tapping the blonde’s face. “How was that?”

But Jerry said nothing. He was out cold.

“Hey!” called a voice. “Cut that crap and get in here! You’re both legal. One! Two!”

Angel raised her head. She and Lynn were legal? What the?

“What happened to our partners?” she cried.

“They eliminated each other. Now, get in here. Four! Five!”

Angel realized she didn’t have much time to think, so she grabbed Lynn by the arm and dragged him back towards the ting. She rolled him through the ropes and climbed in after him, making the cover.

“One! Two!”

But somehow, Jerry kicked out. Frustrated, Angel rolled him over, locked on the leg scissors and applied the crossface. Jerry screamed in pain as she increased the pressure, leaning back and back.

“Tap out!” she hissed. “Tap out!”

Lynn’s hand hovered over the canvas and still Angel increased the torque. Lynn began to crawl desperately; she was losing him. Dammit, he had the ropes. Angel sighed and leaped up, deciding to go for momentum off the other side but as soon as she returned Lynn grabbed her and slammed her down in the powerbomb.

“One! Two!”

Angel rolled Lynn over into the inside cradle.

“One! Two!”

Lynn reversed into an armdrag but decided not to make another cover. He scooped Angel up and placed her on the top turnbuckle. Time for a superplex. He climbed up in front of her and got his hold but, just as he was about to lift her, she dove right over his body, catching him and bringing him down in the ultimate sunset flip.

“One! Two!”

But again Jerry Lynn kicked out. Frustrated, Angel clambered up and tried to whip Lynn into the corner, but he reversed and whipped her instead, then raced in after her, only to have her go for the tip off as she had with Scotty earlier. But, unlike Scotty, Lynn didn’t fall for it, grabbing her legs and slamming her down on the canvas, face first.

Angel felt herself being rolled over and the cover being made. She tried to raise her shoulder, but found she couldn’t.

“One!” cried the ref.

She tried again. Not a chance. He must have some bridge on her.

“Two!” shouted the ref.

Angel was getting desperate. She couldn’t move. She was pinned.

“Hey!” screamed the ref suddenly. “Get off the ropes. You know you can’t do that!”

Angel just lay there as Lynn argued with the ref. So, he’d had his feet on the ropes. That explained why she couldn’t move.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted and the next thing she knew she was on the top turnbuckle again. Lynn was trying for another superplex. He was nothing if not persistent.

As soon as he lifted Angel to her feet she grabbed him by the head and carried him down in the tornado DDT. She bounced to her feet; he didn’t, rolling instead onto his back. Angel peered down at him wearily. It was time to shut this out. It was time for the Stairway To Heaven.

Bam! Bottom rope moonsault. Bam! Second rope moonsault. She jumped up top and spun around, screaming “Lucha libre!” at the top of her lungs. Bam! Senton bomb. Angel hooked Jerry’s legs and made the cover.

“One!” counted the ref. “Two! Three!”

Angel leaped to her feet, arms in the air. She’d done it! She was the number one contender!

Suddenly, Jericho was in the ring with her, throwing his arms around her as the crowd went wild.

“You did it, baby! That was one hell of a Stairway!”

Angel grinned. “Told you I was gonna beat him. Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Torres?” called a voice with a Midwest accent. There, on the canvas, lay Jerry Lynn.

He looked up at her, eyes weary and pained.

“Nice work, Torres,” he said quietly. “I owned you for the first half, you owned me in the second.”

“Ah,” Angel nodded coolly. “So I did impress you.”

“Hey,” Lynn shrugged, propping himself up on his elbow. “I just want you to know that, once you beat X-Pac, I want first title shot.”

Angel just gave a little smile, thinking of what she’d already promised Jeff. “Get in line, Jerry Lynn. Get in line.”