Wrestling Accidents Will Happen

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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A/N: I should preface this story by saying that it's not meant to be taken all that seriously. This is just an idea I thought up last night, based off of those (incredibly incorrect!) accusations that Steph peed herself at Payback on Sunday night. There was a zipper running all the way down the back of her dress, and there was a shiny material that was lining the zipper, which made it look darker under the light at certain points, so people mistook the bottom part for a wet spot. I don't want anyone getting annoyed with me for this fic, because I am fully aware that she didn't actually pee on herself, and the poor woman is probably horrified that people think she did, but I got a funny little idea from the situation and decided to write it out, because why not, you know? This story is strictly for (please excuse my language) shits and giggles, guys and gals. I promise! ;)

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The hijinks began with the slap heard 'round the world.

Brie Bella was in full-on Brie mode, and when Stephanie had the nerve to laugh and gloat in her face over her sudden resignation from the company, her palm responded by smacking forcefully into Stephanie's left cheek. Even when the chips were down, the role of the bad girl was like none other, and Stephanie channeled her McMahon-Helmsley Era days, acting just as she would have at the turn of the new millennium. Only this was a more subdued version of her usual self, and Stephanie clutched her cheek all the way to the backstage area, sulking like a wounded pup. When she reached the last few yards of the ramp, she broke out into a silly run, wanting to give the fans even more reason to mock her.

She soaked in the jeers and lived for the boos that rained down on her each time she set foot through the curtain. There were few roles in the WWE more rewarding than those played by the quintessential heel, and Stephanie liked to think she lived up to her onscreen character's sinister nature. She received congratulatory pats on the back from various agents and a few of the boys passing by, intending to return to the pair of headphones waiting for her on the production table, precisely where she had left them. When she felt the tickle of a focused pair of eyes following her everywhere she went, she scoured over the general direction the prickly feeling came from, and there he was, in all his rock star glory. She could always feel it when he was nearby.

"Chris!" she screeched.

Stephanie broke into a run, this time a serious one, and didn't stop until she was safely in his arms. Vince, who was heavily into his work, especially on Raw and pay-per-view nights, still allowed himself a long enough distraction to smile at the sweet picture Chris and Stephanie made. Vince had been in his daughter's ear for months, working hard to send her on the task of convincing Chris to make his in-ring return sometime soon, but Chris was a busy man with a full plate, and all professional talks had fallen through in the end. Stephanie was right at home in Chris's arms and he spun her around, kissing her forehead after placing her back on her feet.

"Hey, princess. Miss me?"

"I always miss you," she said. The headphones she had left on the table caught her eye, and regret washed over her face. She hesitated, pointing to her chair beside her father. "I have to work, but if you're free, we can do something after the show."

Vince chose that moment to remove his own headset, but only for a second. "Go ahead and talk, sweetheart. I have things handled here, if you need a minute or two with Chris."

"Thanks, Dad," she said. Stephanie sidled up behind his chair and bent over to kiss his cheek. Vince mumbled something to her about wearing Chris down and getting him to sign a new contract, and she rolled her eyes, but the truth was that she wanted Chris back just as desperately as her father did — possibly even more. Chris held his arm out and Stephanie linked hers with his, allowing him to lead her away, as she made a mental note to work on his future WWE return, when they got a quiet moment together.

"Thanks for coming out to my show," Chris said. He was referring to Fozzy's performance at Carolina Rebellion, which Stephanie had gone out to show her support for. Chris even arranged for her to stand off to the side of the stage, in a private area, where she wouldn't have to be hounded by the raging crowd. The gig had gone off well, and Stephanie had accompanied the entire band to dinner that evening, which was like a cherry on top of a wonderful cake for Chris. Any time he was able to spend with Stephanie was special, and he treasured her more than anyone else he knew. "It really meant a lot to me and the guys that you were there. They couldn't stop talking about you, even long after you left."

"Really?" Stephanie smirked, tipping her head and perching it on his shoulder. "What were they saying about me?"

"They just talked about how sweet and beautiful you are. The guys adore you," Chris said.

Stephanie closed her eyes and took ginger steps, trusting Chris to lead the way. She added a little sway in her hips, feeling sexy and on top of the world in her curve-hugging teal dress and strappy heels. That feeling came crashing down soon enough, with Chris tugging her sharply to the left and down a long hallway. He jogged to the first unassigned locker room and opened the door, peering around the open space. When he was satisfied that the room was empty and they would be alone inside, Chris led Stephanie in and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure.

"What's going on?" Stephanie asked, tucking some hair behind her ear. She clenched her hands into fists, a physical sign of her nerves, and a few wrinkles formed in the center of her brow as her anxiety grew. "Did something bad happen?"

"Don't thank me yet, but I'm saving you from an evening of embarrassment. Hurry and get changed, and I'll cover for you."

"Cover for me?" she said, an even deeper line forming over the space between her brows. She took a step toward Chris but he took one back, wearing a horrified grimace, almost indicative of a man who had just watched his best friend get run over by a speeding car. Stephanie was taken aback, and she brought her hand up to her chest. "You're freaking me out, Chris. What's wrong?"

"I get that this whole situation is sort of the elephant in the room, but you can admit what happened and we'll be done with it," Chris said. There happened to be a steel chair in the corner of the room, and he took a seat, pointing toward the connecting bathroom. "Go ahead. Get changed or cleaned up, whatever you have to do, and I'll wait here for you to finish. That must have been _some_ slap, huh?"

"Yeah, it was a pretty vicious slap, I guess," she said, slipping her hand over her left cheek, which was tinged with a soft scarlet shade. She started toward Chris and he held his hand out in front of himself, like he was afraid and didn't want her to come any closer. Stephanie was too shocked for her feelings to be hurt. "What's up with you, like, seriously? You're making me so self-conscious it's insane."

"Do you need me to go to one of the merchandise stands and buy you a pair of sweatpants? I don't mind, if you need some. You would do it for me if the tables were turned, so I'm cool with it. We have each other's backs."

"Why would I need sweats?" she frowned. "You're acting so weird."

"Well, because of the little...situation you've got on the back of your dress," Chris said, pointing sympathetically. "You could see the wet spot a little bit, when you were running up the ramp to get back here, but I don't think too many people noticed. Whatever, stuff happens. When I worked in Japan, there was this 300-pound guy who would jump onto your stomach when you were down, and it would literally make you shit yourself. He did it to me, so believe me when I tell you that I know how horrifying it is to have an accident in the middle of the ring."

"Um, exactly what accident are we talking about here?" Stephanie's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"The one on the back of your dress."

"There's nothing on the back of my dress. What the hell are you talking about?" Stephanie said, shaking her head and chuckling, although it was the uncomfortable sort of laughter that a person fell back on when they were the butt of a joke they weren't even in on. Confusion flashed in her eyes, but she didn't falter for even a second. "You're so odd today. _So_ weird."

"You're the one being weird about it. There's no need to act like it didn't happen. It's not even that big a deal, in the scheme of things," Chris said. "Was Brie's slap just a little too much for you to take? The stream must have just rushed out before you could stop it, huh?"

"Stream of what?"

"Your pee."

"What pee?"

"The pee on the back of your dress. There's a wet spot showing, just so you know." Stephanie snapped her head to the side and grabbed at her dress, opening her hand and feeling along the back of it. She frowned when she couldn't find the wet spot Chris was referring to, and he began doing hand signals from across the room, helping to guide her to the spot in question. When his efforts only served to confuse Stephanie even more than she already was, he waved it off and slapped his lap. "Come here."

"You'll have to excuse me for not wanting to come and sit on your lap after you just told me there's a bunch of nasty pee all over the back of my dress!" she shouted, waving her hands maniacally as she spoke. "What, did one of those jerks in the crowd throw a cup of piss at me or something? I didn't feel anything hit the back of my dress while I was out there, but I might have been a little too in the moment to notice. I zone out when I'm in front of a live audience."

"Wait, you mean you didn't piss yourself?"

"Of course I didn't piss myself, you jackass!"

"Prove it," Chris said. He pushed himself off of the chair and stood with his arms outstretched. Stephanie scoffed and squared her jaw, but Chris wasn't giving up so easily. He puckered his lips and shook his head cockily. "Come here and let Big Daddy take a look."

"If you call yourself 'Daddy' again, I swear I'm bolting right out of this room, and I won't be coming back."

"I'll remove that word from my vocabulary, just for you; now come the hell over here!" he ordered, slapping his thigh for emphasis, which made a moderate clapping sound that echoed off the hollowed walls of the locker room.

Her steps were laced with reluctance, but she crossed the room anyway, turning her back when she was only inches from where Chris stood. Her arms remained folded against her body, and she tapped her foot impatiently as Chris slipped his hands onto her dress and began patting the material down. He gathered her hair first and pushed it over her right shoulder, so it would be out of the way during his exploration. Chris grabbed onto her hips next, using his foot to nudge each of hers, until she took the hint and spread her feet farther apart. He let out a deep exhale through pursed lips, and his breath fluttered along the back of Stephanie's neck, sending a delightful shiver throughout her body.

"Make it quick, Jericho," she grunted.

"You betcha, pisser."

She grumbled lowly to herself and he smirked, loving that even after all their years as friends, he still knew exactly how to get under her skin whenever he saw fit. Chris brought his lips down on the back of her head, kissing her delicately curled locks, and he fiddled with the clasp of her diamond necklace, imagining what a fortune her jewelry must have cost. She smelled richly of jasmine and vanilla, and he closed his eyes and drank her in with every sense except sight, appreciating all the womanly, sweet parts of her. Using the fingertips of his right hand, he began at the secured zipper of her dress, running his hand along the hem and following it down.

Each time he hit a sensitive spot, Stephanie made it known by squirming beneath his touch, struggling to get rid of the ticklish sensation. He passed straight through her shoulder blades, guiding his hand as if it were a plane and she were his runway; takeoff was near. He walked his fingers down to the small of her back and took a slight break, lowering himself onto both knees. As much as Stephanie had protested from the start, she sure seemed to be loving his tender touch, and she had no complaints when he guided his palms over the shapely curve of her backside, pausing to give each cheek a squeeze.

At last, he reached his ultimate destination, the lower hem of her dress, and it only took seconds of feeling around for him to confirm what he had really already known: not a single wet spot existed. The know-it-all fans had trolled themselves into believing that the simple reflection of overhead lights off of a flashy dress was, in fact, a stain. There may have been a brief moment, when she was headed backstage, that Chris suspected she had an accident, but when she came through the curtain, it became abundantly clear that there was no real mishap to speak of. He rolled with it and played along regardless, because it had led him to exactly what he had been after, in the end — a moment alone with his stunning lady friend, and, boy, was he going to have some fun with her.

"Are you satisfied now?" she asked. "I told you there's no wet spot. I stopped peeing my pants and wetting the bed when I was, like, seven."

"Yeah, I know."

"Clearly you don't," Stephanie retorted. Her words were playful, but there was a snap to them, a good-natured bitchiness that only a woman as multifaceted as Stephanie McMahon could deliver. She attempted to face Chris, but he used his hands to stop her, grabbing onto her hips and holding her in place. "What now?"

"The dress isn't wet, but that doesn't mean your underwear aren't. Who knows what you're hiding in those little naughty panties of yours. Let me check and make sure those are dry, too."

"Are you insane?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, you really must be crazy," she shot back.

Chris rose on his feet and spun her around, pulling her flush to his body. Her mouth dropped open when she caught the esurient glint in his eyes and the lustful licking of his lips. Suddenly, she was too parched to swallow, so she just stood there, caught in Chris's magical trance. His response made her weak in the knees. Leaning in close enough that she could feel his panting breaths on her upper lip, Chris tipped his forehead into hers and said, "Crazy about you, beautiful."

"Why do you have to say such sweet things, when I want so badly to be annoyed at you?"

"Because I mean them," he said. Chris cupped her cheek in his right hand, swishing his thumb over her skin. His smile was automatic when Stephanie's arms curled around his waist, and she pulled him into a hug, resting her temple on his left shoulder. He rubbed her back. "It meant a lot to me that you took time out of your busy week to come and spend the day with me and the guys. We're really making great strides with Fozzy, and having your support at one of our biggest gigs of the year was amazing. I hope you can come again sometime soon."

"You just let me know when, and I'll clear my schedule. I always have time for you."

"You always have time to get to the restroom, too, right?"

"Yes, silly," she said, pulling away and slugging him in the arm. Chris grimaced and feigned injury while she laughed at his outrageous expression. "I can't believe you thought I actually had an accident on myself. I'm a little too old for that, don't you think?"

"Hey, you never know what can happen."

"If you thought I had one, I'll bet everyone else thinks I did, too. This is so humiliating," she said. Stephanie covered her face with both hands. "Everyone will probably be talking about me online and making jokes about me over something I didn't even do. If I'm going to be mocked, it should at least be for something that really happened. I haven't watched the tape back, so I don't know what people saw, but it obviously wasn't what they thought it was."

"I've got your back. Anybody tries to fuck with you over this, they'll have to answer to me."

"_You_ just tried to fuck with me over this, actually," Stephanie pointed out, tossing her head back and cackling. "Are you going to punish yourself for the emotional trauma you just put me through, forcing me to spread my legs for the sake of giving me a body cavity search so you could check for pee stains?"

"No, because when _I_ do it, it's okay."

"Oh, so that's how it works," she said. Stephanie laughed all the way to the door. She turned the lock and slipped out into the open hallway, with Chris following closely behind. He jogged to catch up with her elongated strides, slipping his arms around both of her shoulders.

"Does this mean I don't get to check your panties?"

"Why bother?" she shrugged. "You already know there's nothing there."

"Yeah, but it would be so much fun checking you out down there."

"You're terrible."

"It's not like I haven't had my way with you or gone down there before."

Her eyes widened, and she smacked him in the arm with the back of her right hand. "Shh!"

"What?" he continued, grabbing onto a strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger. Chris never passed up an opportunity to toy with her. "You're not embarrassed of me, are you? I would hate to think you regret those steamy nights we spent together, even as recently as the weekend of Carolina Rebellion. Remember joining me in my personal bunk on the Fozzy tour bus? There's no way that's escaped your mind, has it?"

"No, it certainly hasn't."

"So then, when do I get to check those panties you're wearing?" he pressed. "Do I gotta make an appointment, or what?"

She sighed, but he loved hearing that resignation sigh that always came right before she gave into his advances. "Give me a ride to the airport after the show and we'll stop somewhere along the way. You can pull the car over and I'll prove to you that these panties are just as clean as they were when I put them on this morning."

"I like the sound of that, sexy. I'll be waiting for you," Chris said, kissing her temple. By then, they had reached the production table, completing their circle and ending up right where they had begun. Stephanie pointed silently to the vacant spot at the table, indicating that she had work to attend to, and Chris let her go, but not without one final jab for the road. "Back to work, pisser."

She stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around. "You're never going to let me live down this thing that I didn't even do, are you?"

"Probably not."

"Just checking," Stephanie said, closing the gap between their bodies. Her features took on a fierce edge, and she grabbed onto Chris's shirt collar, reeling him in close. "But if I hear you refer to me as 'pisser' one more time, _you're_ going to be the one pissing in fear by the time I get through with you this evening."

"Sounds kinky," he joked.

Stephanie left him with a final thought, then returned to her seat. "Oh, it will be. Trust me."


End file.

Wrestling, Friendship, Humor