Disclaimer: I do not own the real people or the characters portrayed in this story. The characters belong to WWE and the people own themselves. This is going to have adult things in it so kids, keep on moving along now!

A/N: So, since a few of my stories seem to be nearing their conclusions (hopefully), I figured it would be okay to add another story onto the pile. This is a tiny bit AU-ish, neither Stephanie nor Chris have any children in this one, I like them, but they just don't fit in, sorry guys! Anyways, as with all my new stories, let me know if you want me to continue and be brutal if you want to be. So I hope you enjoy and reviews are welcome. :)

I don't think I can feel my legs.

Chris gave a smirk as he stretched his back. It was always nice to actually see his handiwork. He'd never left a woman unsatisfied, in bed or otherwise. Hell, even right before his divorce to Jessica, she'd still craved him. Right after the divorce had been finalized, he'd screwed her in the men's bathroom at the courthouse. He'd called it a parting goodbye and the way she wobbled while she walked away meant that she would remember him for a while.

He wasn't a womanizer or anything, well, okay, he wasn't that much of a womanizer. He liked to think he was an appraiser of women. He liked to be in their company and he liked the way they looked and smelled and laughed. So he tried to surround himself with them, but he didn't sleep with them all. His friends called him a flirt and it was true, he did flirt a lot with pretty much any girl, ugly, pretty, he liked to make them all feel special. He was charming and it would be a shame to let that go to waste.

Hell, he'd been with Barbie for three months now and he wasn't planning on dumping her any time soon. She was hot and young and pretty and though she wasn't smart, he didn't care because he wasn't with her for the in-depth discussions of English literature pre-Shakespeare. She was a good time and the first relationship he'd had since his divorce. They weren't thinking long-term and it was nice to have that right now, when his future was so uncertain as it was.

Some might call it a midlife crisis or something, dating a girl nearly half his age, someone who, theoretically, was old enough to be his daughter. Whatever it was, he didn't care and it wasn't like he was the only one. Jessica was dating a 19 year old that she'd met at the grocery store. She pranced around with him on her arm and he didn't give two shits. At least he wasn't dating a teenager. If this was a midlife crisis, he welcomed it. He opened his eyes and turned on his side. Barbie was facing him, her eyes still closed, but they were fluttering so he knew she was awake and just trying to go back to sleep.

God, I don't want to even get out of bed today, stupid work!

Chris stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together. He'd heard her voice, he'd heard her words, but he was staring at her face and her lips hadn't moved. He must have not been paying attention. They'd been drinking last night and he was probably drunk last night, from what he could remember. They'd gotten a few drinks, came back to the hotel room and fell onto the bed in a heap of arms and legs and alcoholic hazes. It must just be the hangover. He blinked a couple times, reaching up with his right hand to rub his eyes.

Fuck, I think I could have sex all day today.

Okay, it had just happened again, he could hear her, but her mouth wasn't moving. "Barbie doll," he said, using the nickname she liked when they were having sex. She would tell him to use her as his own personal fuck toy. Barbie really got turned on with dirty talk, especially when you called her a dirty whore and started smacking her on the ass. She liked to play it kinky, even trying to give him blow jobs in public places. It was fun to be with her, but also a little tedious because of her unending sex drive. Not that he truly minded.

"What?" she asked and now her lips were moving.

Don't wake me up, I don't want to get up, let me sleep!

"Did you just say something?" he asked.

"I just said what," she told him. "You wanna fuck again?"

"Um, no," he told her softly.

Too bad, I think I can still feel his cum leaking out of me, I need a shower, but I want to sleep.

"Are you sure you didn't say anything?"

"I just asked if you wanted to fuck again, God, you want me to fucking beg?" Barbie asked, opening one of her eyes to look at him. She reached under the covers and grabbed him. He was flaccid, but started to get hard at her ministrations. "Do you like it when I'm your little whore that you can use like the dirty slut that I am?"

Mmm, I can't wait until he's in me again.

He pulled away and stumbled out of bed. "Shower, I need a shower," he told her, staring at her face. Before he went into the bathroom. "Hey, Barbie, you don't have any…special weird skills or talents do you?"

"Sucking cock," she shrugged, looking at him seriously, like this was a real-world talent. He stared at her. "You look like you want your cock sucked right now, am I right?"

He looked down and he was semi-hard yes and he could probably have her right now, just fuck her through the mattress…Oh, please, please, please let me just get it over with and suck his cock so I can go back to sleep. My head is killing me, I have a headache, can you take Midol for headaches, no, stupid, that's for cramps, but it's like my head is cramping, I guess I could take it, but it wouldn't work, would he just FUCK me already! "No, no, no," Chris said, shaking his head. He'd heard a whole monologue, but her mouth hadn't moved and she'd just been staring at him.

What the hell is his problem? He sounds crazy, if he's crazy, I'm so breaking up with him because I do not want to be murdered in my sleep.

"I've…shower!" he said, slamming the door on her. He turned and gripped the edge of the sink, reaching out with his left hand to flicker the lights on. He stared in the mirror. He didn't look any different. He looked the same, a little disheveled from sleep, but otherwise nothing. He took a step back and inspected his body. Nothing there, no weird bite marks. He pinched himself for good measure, it hurt, yes, he was awake. So why…no, they couldn't be. That was just crazy. It was just crazy that he could…hear Barbie's thoughts? No, she had to be…like a ventriloquist or something, she was able to throw her voice. But the things she was…those things were not anything she'd say to him, the murdering thing. God, no, he was not.

This was not Heroes and he had not just heard someone's thoughts. He wasn't going to walk out there and find he had superpowers. That was silly, he was dreaming or hurt, in a coma, an accident, what the fuck had happened last night? He tried to think, tried to think about what had gone out. Anything, anything out of the ordinary? Okay, he could think this through. He sat on the edge of the shower and put his head in his hands. He took a couple deep breaths and tried to compose himself. He needed a clear head because last night was pretty hazy.

They'd had a show. They were in Connecticut, the Mohegan Sun casino. After the show, most of the guys had wandered into the casino and then the bar. He and Barbie had been drinking with some of the guys, but that wasn't unusual. Maybe he'd been drugged? But what the fuck kind of drug allowed people to read other's minds…if that's what he was doing. No, he couldn't read her mind. It wasn't, he wasn't reading, it was like she was talking and he was hearing, but no, stupid, stupid, stupid Chris, mind-readers only existed in TV shows or movies or books, not in real life. Now what happened after the drinking.

"I'm going to ride you hard," Barbie said, bouncing on her feet. "I'm going to ride you so hard you'll think you're a horse."

He laughed at how little sense she was making. He pressed his finger to her lips and then replaced his finger with his own lips. "You are…drunk!"

"I'm not!" she said, even as she swayed on her feet.

"So why can't you even walk in a straight line, Barbie doll?" he asked her, snorting with laughter.

"Because I'm dancing," she told him, "can't you hear the music?"

"I think it's in your head," he said, tapping her forehead. "Cute, cute forehead."

"You have a cute forehead," she told him, trying to jump up and kiss his forehead. Instead he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They pushed up against the bank of elevators and he pushed the button as she made out with him.

"I'm going to fuck you through the mattress, hell, through the floor," he told her.

"Yes, yes," she moaned against his mouth.

He set her down. "You better be ready to be fucked like the whore you are," he whispered to her. "Does that make you wet, huh?"

"God, yes," she said hoarsely.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jericho."

Chris looked off to the side at an older woman. "What?"

"I was wondering if I could have your autograph for my grandson. We came to the show tonight, but he fell asleep and his parents drove him back home. I just thought it would be nice."

"Can't you see I'm fucking busy here," he said, something he would never say while sober. "I'm going upstairs with my girlfriend and I don't have time for autographs because she needs to be f-u-c-k-e-d."

"Please," she pleaded.

"Beat it," Chris told her. "I don't…I don't have time for silly autographs."

"Chrissy, kiss me," Barbie pouted. "Kiss me there…"

"Not here," he laughed. He looked to the side again. "You're still here, God, can't you see I don't want to sign whatever, God, fans, I swear, you shitbags sometimes."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Chris Jericho, you will learn your lesson, oh yes, you will learn to think before you speak, to think of others and until you do…good luck, Mr. Jericho."

"Fuck off," he called as the woman stared at him.

Shit, what the hell? He closed his eyes as he remembered how rude he was to that woman. Normally he wouldn't be, but he was thinking with his dick, not his head. Now…no way, she couldn't put a spell on him. There were no such things as spells. There was just no way that they could…well, the woman had looked Native American. Maybe they could cast weird spells. Or maybe he really was just hallucinating. Yeah, he was just…it was nothing. Barbie was just…he was making this up. He took his shower and then went out to get dressed. Barbie was back asleep and he got dressed and went down to get some food before hitting the gym. He met up with Adam at the elevators.

"Hey man," Adam winked. "You have a nice night?"

I can't believe he's actually sleeping with Barbie, doesn't he know how slutty she is. Not that I wouldn't fuck her if I had the chance, but then, wouldn't everyone?

"What the fuck?" Chris asked, taking a step back.

"Huh, I just asked if you had a nice night," Adam said.

"No, you…do you think that Barbie is a slut?"

"Well, no, I mean, you know how rumors travel."

Yeah, rumors, straight from Randy's mouth that he fucked Barbie on the hood of his car as she begged him to make her knees bleed. Or when Jake Hager said he had sex with her in the ocean when we were all in Puerto Rico.

"Jake Hager?" Chris said.

"What, wait, what, was I thinking aloud?" Adam said.

"You were just thinking about Jake?"

I hope he doesn't get too offended, I mean, a lot of guys have slept with Barbie, at least she's in her twenties now, I remember Andrew dated her when she was still 19, which, I don't know how he could touch a 19-year-old, that's even too young for me, not that I'd cheat on Casey, but well, no, I wouldn't.

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to think aloud, just, you know, they had sex while in Puerto Rico, way before you guys started dating."

"You were thinking it though?"

"Well, yeah."

"Shit," Chris said. "I've gotta, I don't…"

"You okay?" Adam asked. "You don't sound like yourself.

He had to keep it together, it was okay, everything was fine. This wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a huge deal. This was just nothing. It was probably one day and then everything would go back to normal. He wasn't cursed or anything, there were no such things as curses. He was just…maybe he was in an accident and he was in some dream world. Yeah, everything was fine, he'd get better soon. Oh God, who the fuck was he kidding?

He could hear people's thoughts.