A/N: Here is a brand new fic for those of you who are interested... I know at least one person who reads my stories who is a Stephanie/Edge shipper - you should be thrilled by this one! ;) The idea for this fic actually came to me in a dream, although it's somewhat similar to a challenge someone sent me years ago. Anyhow, I hope people read and that it flies well around here. Please leave me feedback/reviews, as always! :)
I don't know what it was about her that drew me to her... Normally, I wasn't that captivated by mere mortal women. However, she had a certain something about her, a fresh, beautiful innocence that I found alluring. It had been decades, even centuries, since I'd experienced such feelings... and I can't say I didn't enjoy them.
Don't ask me how I got into the business of professional wrestling... It's simply a passion, and I guess I was made for the sport. It's funny how my illustrious life - and afterlife - took me across this path. I can't help but deduce that it was my destiny, though, as it brought me to her.
And on that note, let me tell you about the member of the female persuasion to whom I am referring... She is a beautiful, most delicate flower, a rose among clumps of earth. I first saw her on my first day employed with the WWF and found myself instantly enamored. Beauty such as hers has always been my weakness, yet I have encountered women probably even more physically breathtaking but never did bite... So, what exactly was it about her that I simply could not resist? I couldn't help but ponder that question ever since that first day.
Stephanie Marie McMahon... Even her name was enchanting. She had beautiful, flawless ivory skin, deep cerulean blue eyes that rivaled many oceans, and rich, fragrant chestnut-brown flowing hair that cascaded halfway down her back. She was a tall girl at five-feet-nine, but shorter enough than myself that she seemed almost petite. It's difficult for me to tear my gaze from her whenever she's around me.
Although she was kind and friendly, Stephanie wasn't exactly an open book. She was quite private, most especially in regards to her family and her life with them. Additionally, she didn't seem to have any actual friends within the company in spite of her seemingly easygoing manner. Those things all contributed to making her an enigma - at least in my eyes.
One evening, while at a RAW taping in Baltimore, Maryland, I happened upon her in a dim arena hallway. I was preparing for a match - one of my first with the company - and there she was, sitting on an equipment case. She was casually dressed in a worn pair of jeans and a black sweater with a high neckline and three-quarter sleeves. A comfortable appearing pair of black sneakers were on her feet, and her head was down, causing her long brown hair to fall in twin wings. She looked like an angel as I stopped my brisk pacing and watched her.
As though perhaps suddenly sensing another's eyes on her, the young woman raised her head and glanced around. There was a curious expression on her makeup-free face, and then, our eyes met.
It was so intense, it nearly knocked me off my feet. Naturally, I had encountered many different women over centuries' time, but Stephanie McMahon was special. It was just one of those things, something I couldn't explain. I felt my mouth run dry and realized instantly the effect the girl was having on me.
And then, she smiled... It felt as though I were literally melting.
I smiled back. I took a few tentative steps in her direction, and the smile adorning my face grew to a grin. I only hoped it wasn't one that would scare her.
"Hello... Edge. Adam, right?" the brunette inquired, cocking her head to one side as she spoke my real first name. Yes, I shared that moniker with the biblical first man. I nodded.
"Hello, Stephanie." My gaze drank in the very sight of her with much appreciation. I suddenly realized she held a small spiral notebook in her left hand, a pen in her right. "What are you doing?"
She glanced down for a beat.
"Oh, this... Nothing," she said, meeting my gaze again with a slight smile, "I'm just writing in my journal. I guess it's a bit corny, but I enjoy keeping one."
"No... Not corny at all," I assured her.
I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The last thing I wanted was to make this beautiful creature feel at all uncomfortable... Yet, at the same time, it felt as though shifting my gaze elsewhere would mean the very end of my existence. Again, it was something at which I was at a loss to explain.
However, the brunette surprised me. She did not appear in the least ill at ease, even as she glanced up as I studied her. In fact, she even smiled in an easygoing manner.
"Thank you," Stephanie said. "I know a lot of the guys here wouldn't even say that, even if only to humor me." She cocked her head slightly to one side as she eyed me steadily for a moment. It felt odd, though not at all unpleasant, to be the object of her scrutiny. "I can tell you're being genuine... I barely know you, but somehow I know it."
Slowly, probably almost even imperceptively to her, I nodded. There was just something about the woman, something that reached deeply inside my very core, that I hadn't felt in decades, even centuries. And I knew right there and there...
I had to have Stephanie McMahon.