Summary: Stephanie is frustrated and has her hands full at Raw... Will a surprise visit from a special friend cheer her up?

Stephanie McMahon sat at her desk in her office with her head in her hands feeling unbelievably frustrated. Everything was simply one huge mess. Backstage at Raw was a madhouse, and she didn't have the first clue what to do about it. She needed him, that much she did know. But he wasn't supposed to come back for quite a bit of time, so she would just have to try and deal with her problems by herself.

There was a knock on the door. Stephanie looked up from all the papers on her desk and called, "Come in!" She didn't even bother getting up. She didn't feel like it.

"Stephanie, I'm glad I found you...alone," Eric Bischoff said, coming in and closing the door.

"What do you want, Eric?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

"You already know, sweet thing," he replied, coming to sit on the edge of her desk. "I want him gone."

"I am not sending John Cena back to SmackDown!" she exclaimed. "So quit asking me, ok?"

"We don't need Cena here," he said angrily. "He's just a disrespectful young man that doesn't deserve to be on Raw!"

"The fans love him, and he's not that bad," she reasoned. "Besides, he's one of the only guys who doesn't suck up to you. Cena has...what did my dad used to call it? Ah, yes. Cena has testicular fortitude."

"So what!" he yelled. "I want him gone."

"Too bad. I want you gone, too, but you just won't leave. If I have to deal with you then you have to deal with Cena," she said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to tend to. Show yourself to the door."

"Fine," he said. "But I'll find a way to get Cena out of here... I'll put him in another You're Fired match, and this time he'll be guaranteed to lose!"

"Yeah, you know how well that worked last time? You got Jericho fired, you jackass!" she said angrily. "Get the hell out of here, Bischoff, before I kick your ass."

"You'll reconsider," he said, then disappeared out the door.

Stephanie sat at her desk fuming. Eric Bischoff had the power to really piss her off, and she hated him now more than ever. It was all his fault that Jericho had been forced to take some time off in the first place. Sure, he was going on tour with his band Fozzy and needed the time off. But it was the way he'd had his final appearance on Raw that really worked Stephanie's nerves... The way Eric had wanted him to get on his hands and knees and beg... It was degrading. Really.

She sighed and wished that Chris was there with her. He was always great to be around, fun to hang out with. She was married, she knew, but was it so wrong to pine for Jericho's company every once in a while?

There was another knock on her door. "Come in!" she called again.

The door opened and "The Masterpiece" Chris Masters walked in.

"Good evening, Stephanie," he said, smiling at her and shutting the door. "Might I say, you are looking beautiful tonight."

"Drop the small talk. What do you want?" she asked. Flattery never worked for her... Unless it was flattery from Chris Jericho, of course.

Masters seemed surprised, but started talking. "I want a title match against John Cena."

She laughed. "You have got to be kidding me."

"No, I'm not kidding," he said. "I think I deserve a match against the champ."

"I'm sure you think you deserve a shot, but around here, you have to earn your shot," she said. "Didn't you listen when Shawn Michaels told you about that?"

"Chris Jericho never earned his shot!"

"Oh, that was so the wrong thing to say," she said in an icy voice. "Get out."

"It's the truth. Chris Jericho was just a washed up old has-been and he got, not one, but two title shots! Two!"

"First of all," she said, standing up, "Chris Jericho is not a has-been. He's one of the best performers this company has to offer."

"And yet, he's not here."

"Second," she continued, walking over to him. "He's busted his ass around here for years to earn his title shots. He was the first Undisputed Champ ever in the WWE, remember?"

"Sooo, what's that have to do with him getting two consecutive shots?"

She scratched her head. "Um..." What did it have to do with it? "I don't have to explain myself to you. Just get out!"

He threw up his hands. "Fine." And left the room.

Stephanie put her head in her hands and leaned her elbows on the desk.

"But really, I gotta wonder if Jericho was just your favorite or something," Masters said, sticking his head back in the room. "Because, as head of the creative team, you always made sure he had the coolest storylines."

"LEAVE!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, and he left with a horrible pain in his eardrums.

Stephanie was getting even more pissed. First Bischoff, then Masters. Who's going to come and get on my nerves next? she wondered.

There was yet another knock on her door.

Great. I just had to ask! she thought. Aloud, she yelled, "Bischoff, if that's you bugging me about firing Cena again, don't even bother coming in! Masters, if that's you coming back to ask me if Jericho is my favorite then I'll answer that for you: Yeah, he is! Chris Jericho really is my favorite! And maybe if you had half the talent he has then you'd have a title shot! Now go fuck yourself!" She paused, catching her breath, then went on. "And if you're neither of the two mentioned before, then come on in!"

She didn't bother looking up. She was almost positive that it was someone else coming to complain about something they thought she was doing wrong.

"Wow. You don't seem to be in that great of a mood, so I'll just come back later," a familiar voice teased.

Her head snapped up. Her eyes met the clear blue eyes of the one man she'd been wanting to see for what seemed like forever.

"Chris!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Got a few free hours off from the tour. Since we're in a town close by, I decided to come by and visit my most favorite princess," he replied, coming over to sit on the edge of her desk. "Miss me?"

"You're crazy if you think I didn't!" she said, then jumped up and hugged him. "It's good to see you."

"Just good?" he asked, pulling away. "Don't you mean marvelous or fantastic or maybe superb?"

"All those things and more," she said, then kissed him right on the lips. She pulled back a few minutes later, her breathing ragged.

"Wow, Princess, guess you really did miss me," he said once he caught his breath.

"Of course. These...assclowns...around here have really been getting on my last nerve."

"Yeah, I kind of get that from your little rant when I knocked on the door," he laughed. "What was up with that?"

"Oh..." She blushed, a little embarrassed. "Eric Bischoff and Chris Masters were pissing me off."

He laughed. "I'd hate to get you pissed off at me!"

"You've already done that before. Let's not forget the names you used to call me," she reminded him.

"Names? You must have me confused with someone else," he said, pretending to be bewildered at her accusation.

"Shall I refresh your memory?"

"No, I have a great memory. I'm thinking it was something along the lines of filthy, dirty, disgusting, brutal bottom-feeding..." His voice trailed off. "Well, you get the picture."

She frowned at him. "Did you ever really think I was...that way?"

"Of course not, Steph," he said seriously. "That was just a gimmick. I thought you knew."

"Good. Because I would've had to slap you right now if you'd said yes," she laughed.

"You know what happens when you try to slap me," he said in a suggestive tone.

"No, I don't remember..."

"Try it then."

She raised her hand, then sighed. "Ah, what's the point? We can skip that part." And then she kissed him again...

A few hours later, Stephanie walked Chris to the door of her office. "It was fun seeing you, Chris. You really should come and visit me more often."

He smiled at her. "I'm usually pretty busy, you know? With the tour and the acting..."

She reached up to fix his hair while he tried to get the wrinkles out of his clothes. "But next time, maybe you ought to bring a change of clothing."

"Who says there'll be a next time?" he wanted to know.

"I do," she said. She looked at her watch. "You've got a long drive ahead of you."

"Just two hours."

"Long."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"I've got work to finish," she said, gesturing at the papers scattered all over the desk.

"Yeah, I'm thinking the ink's going to be smeared on a lot of those papers, considering what we just did on top of them..."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "Probably."

He grinned at her. "You're probably going to keep them as some kind of freaky little memento."

"Maybe," she said, then leaned up to kiss him. Pulling back, she looked at her watch again. "You better go so you can get there before the sun comes up."

"It's only a bit past midnight. I'll make it there in due time," he said. "But if you insist..."

They said their goodbyes and shared one final kiss.

"Can't wait until I see you again," she said.

"You'll never know when... It'll be a surprise," he replied with a smile. And then he was gone.

Stephanie sat down, looking at the papers scattered all over her desk. She picked up a paper and saw that the ink was indeed smeared. She smiled to herself, thinking of the reason the ink was smeared, then got back to work. With her frustration now gone, she sorted through the papers and thought of Chris. Boy, I love when he makes a surprise visit!

Ok, ok, I know this one was kind of dumb. I had this idea in my head but I didn't exactly know how to type it up where it would make sense. Anyway, please review! Thanks... :-D