Chapter 5

A/N: Now that I'm back in the groove of writing, I got this chapter finished too. Yay!

                "Dear Chris." Benoit read out loud. Jericho stood, crossing his arms over his chest, raising a brow as he was read the note. "I realize that you're going to kill me the minute you read this, but with a couple pulled strings, you've got yourself a…" he paused, his eyes getting big.

                "What did you get? A new car? A new tooth?"

                He ignored the comment, just because he felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "She got Lilian to agree to eat dinner with me."

                "Woah! Alright, Lita!" Jericho grinned. "Knew that girl would make it through…I tell you, Chris, she's always..."

                And then Benoit collapsed. Upon inspection, Jericho found he had fainted. He sighed, shaking his head. "Whatta pussy."

                He nudged him with the tip of his shoe. He didn't respond. Leaving his best friend's downed body for a moment, he filled water into one of the complimentary cups given to them by the hotel. He returned to him and poured the water on his head. Instantly his face cringed and he shot up, coughing and sputtering. The floor around his head was saturated.

"Wha...what happened?" he asked, touching his head after he realized how freezing he felt.

                "You fainted when you found out you get an evening to woo Lilian." Jericho laughed. Benoit seemed horrified once again. He stood up quickly.

                "I can't do that." He said loudly. "That…that'd mean I'd be alone with her!"

                "Well, usually dates are like that." Jericho replied mildly.

                "I wouldn't know what to say. Instead of 5 seconds of humiliation, it'll be an hour or MORE of it!"

                "Oh, you're worrying too much. I'm sure she'll be charmed by you're uh...rugged charm and...wit?" Jericho offered.

                "Are you kidding me? If you were a girl, would -I- be on the top of your list as number one choice of date?"

                Jericho seemed to contemplate this. "Naw. You're not my type."

                Benoit glared at him. "I hate you."

                "What! I like blondes!" he laughed. He stopped when the glare intensified. "…Fine, fine." He got close and pinched Benoit's cheek jokingly. "'Course I'd pick you. Youse so cute, Chrissy."

                Benoit swatted his hand away, huffing. "I take it back. You're still an ass."

                "Now that's not any way to treat someone who's gonna teach you how to be appealing to someone like Lilian."

                "Show me the person and I'll thank 'em." He replied dryly.

                "I'LL help you."

                "Yes, because you have such a great way of wooing girls. 'You're a slut! You're a bitch! I hate you so much that I'll kiss you in front of millions!'."

                "If you're referring to Stephanie..."

                "Okay, not even HER. How about Lita, huh? Now that's painfully obvious, yet all you do is tease her and she is clueless."

                "I don't like Lita." He shook his head, stubbornly.

                "Riight." He rolled his eyes. "Your flirting style is that of a six year old. And you only have teased two people in more jest then anything - Stephanie and Lita. Lita more, too. So can you really look at me and tell me that if she wasn't dating Matt you wouldn't have made your move? Can you?"

                "I am not the subject of conversation!" he instantly changed the subject.

                "Pfft." Benoit rolled his eyes.

                "Okay, so maybe I'm not the best to talk to. But I know just a person that might help!"

                "Other? Wait a second Chris..."

                "Trust me, Chris. This guy has dated every type. Probably in the past year. Multiple times. If he can't help you, no one can."

                He shouldn't have been surprised that when the door opened that Jericho had dragged him to was Edge's room.

                "Hey guys...uh...what a surprise. What's up?"

                "Edge, I need you to mold my friend here into someone who looks like a pro at dating."

                Edge stared at them both for a second, his eyebrow raised slightly. "Um...I'm not a miracle worker."

                Jericho snickered as Benoit groaned.

                Edge instantly cracked one of his infamous huge grins. "I'm just kidding you, buddy. Come on in, both of you. You caught me on a good day. Nothing to do." He moved aside to allow them both entrance.

                Inside it certainly looked like a bachelor pad. Various articles of clothing were thrown around as if the whole room was a clothing holder. Benoit hoped some of the stuff was Christian's, because it just wasn't natural for a guy to have so many. Both Jericho and he decided to just stand instead of attempt to clear an area to sit.

                "Sorry for the mess." He spoke, basically reading the duo's minds. "Gets kinda dirty in here when neither of us feel like cleaning. So! You need help, huh? What exactly would you like me to do?"

                "Teach him how to not scare the crap out of his date." Jericho spoke, eliciting another glare from his friend.

                "Well, smiles are usually a good step in the right direction. Smile."

                "But I don't..."

                "Just smile, Roboto." Jericho rolled his eyes. Benoit gave a heavy sigh and made one.

                "Dude, let's uh...skip that part." Edge coughed, making a face.

                "Wow, I think he's even scarier smiling!" Jericho mused, tilting his head to the side, looking toward the now scowling man.

                Benoit, for lack of a better phrase, already was fed up with this little lesson. "I'm leaving..."

                He was promptly pushed back onto the bed. Benoit groaned, figuring the only way out was to either kill them or sit through this embarrassment.

                Benoit, for lack of a better phrase, already was fed up with this little lesson. "I'm leaving..."

                He was promptly pushed back onto the bed. Benoit groaned, figuring the only way out was to either kill them or sit through this embarrassment. So he figured – he'd just half listen and maybe it would end soon. Very soon. The sooner the better.

                "We need to get him clothes."

                "Dress clothes, you mean?"

                "Yeah." Edge looked him over. "I highly doubt you have anything worthwhile in your closet, right?"

                "I have a suit..."

                "That's 10 years old..." Jericho reminded.

                "I LIKE my suit!"

                "Well, MY stuff ain't gonna fit him." Edge shook his head. "He's too short."

                "Now wait just a second! I'm not sh..." Benoit was just trying to get SOME part of his bruised ego back.

                "Yeah, and my stuff is at the cleaners...it'll be big on him too, but not as big as yours would."

                "Damn! Looks like we're gonna have to ask around."

                Ask around. Which meant he would have to ask more people. Which meant they would ask him why he would need such a thing. Which meant..."I am NOT telling ANYONE else about this."

                "It'll only be a few people, REALLY." Edge smiled apologetically.

                "I seem to remember a time when you told me only you and Lita would know about this!" he pointed accusingly to the shorter blonde Canadian. "And now I have to go asking around for a suit like some kind of peddler? No way, forget it!"

                An hour later, he was striding slowly behind the two, head lowered mournfully as if he was being taken away to jail or some other not very nice place. They were in a second rate suit shop – not for the incredibly rich, but it was still on the pricey side. And he had for some strange reason agreed to pay half of it if the insane idea worked. But he was letting them drag him around, so he knew inside that he wasn't THAT against it. The store was sort of new looking, with suits lining every single wall. There were a million colors of each type. Some were hideous – pastel pink and yellow colors the worse – while others were quite normal – greys and blacks.

                There was a couple suits that reminded Benoit of Godfather's festive outfits. "Maybe I should go for the pimp look." Benoit mused outloud, gaining stares from the other two Canadians. "…What? I either laugh about this shit or I shoot myself. I don't have a gun to do the latter."

                "You're too pessimistic Chris." Edge spoke cheerfully. "Just think, soon you'll be all alone with your lil' sweetheart."

                "Yes, and this is the same 'lil' sweetheart' I gave hives to and is also the one that looks as though I tried to buy her off with a necklace." Benoit smirked.

                "If you dwell in the past, Roboto…"

                "The PAST? It wasn't even a week ago!"               

                "Details." He waved a hand. "Anyhow, let's find a suit for you."

                "Good afternoon, gentlemen."  A voice from behind greeted. They all glanced at the older looking man behind them. "Can I help you?"

                "We need a suit." Chris said cheerfully.

                "Stating the obvious, don't you think?" Benoit smirked.

                "Shush." Edge chastised, nodding in agreement with Chris. "Yes, we need a suit for this man over here."

                The man looked over at Benoit, who squirmed slightly.  The man 'hmm'ed, and he inwardly groaned.

                "Come, we will find something in your price range."

                Chris grabbed his arm and dragged him along. The man eyed him and started showing outfit by outfit. They were all pretty cheesy looking, perhaps because Benoit thought anything that resembled a suit was ugly. The last one came and he found exactly what he was looking for.

                "This one." He said, gesturing toward it.

                "…It's just black." Jericho spoke, confused.

                "Popular belief has me as someone who wishes not to draw attention. I can't disappoint the belief." Benoit spoke smugly. Edge and Chris looked at each other then collectively sighed.

                "We'll have this one." Edge told the one selling the product.

                "Very good, sir."

                "I don't believe I'm trusting this in the hands of these blonde imbeciles." He muttered.

                "Heard that!" Edge spoke cheerfully as he passed by to follow Chris and the worker of the store. "Come on Benoit, now me and Chris will get your hair ready!"

                A second's pause was all it took for Benoit to comprehend what he was just told. "W-wait! What do you mean my hair?!"

~~

                Edge was partially lying, which was good news on Benoit's part. His hair was played around with. Luckily Lita was the one doing it, not either of them. He was sure if it had been up to them he would probably be forced to wear a wig by the time they were done. Lita had managed to get both of them out of the room, making up an excuse though really it was just so Benoit could have a moment's peace.

                "It's not going to be hard to do this." She spoke, leaning down to be eyelevel with the sitting 'Rabid Wolverine'. She tilted her head to one side, her hair rolling down past her shoulders. "You feeling okay?"

                "I guess so." He said with a small shrug. Lita sat next to him and grinned.

                "You're scared shitless, aren't you?"

                "Definitely." He admitted. "I'm quite sure I'm going to screw this up."

                "You'll be fine." She comforted.

                "That's easy for you to say. You've got a beautiful look to go with your personality. Me?"

                Lita looked over at him, raising a brow. "…You?"

                "I think it hardly needs to be said." He stood up, holding his arms out slightly, trying to show her his point. "I mean, look at me."

                "I've been looking at you, Chris. There's nothing wrong with you." She stood up.

                "Do you need glasses? I'm no prince charming – I sure as hell am not good looking. You're just saying that because you know me." He turned from her, sighing in defeat.

                "Woah woah woah, since when did you come to the conclusion you aren't good looking?" Lita frowned.

                "What does it matter? Pah…whatever…just forget this."

                "Ahh, no you don't." she turned him around, forcing him to face her. He seemed a bit surprised at the suddenness of the action. "There's nothing wrong with you, and you're definitely not ugly. I say that both as a friend and as a girl."

                "Right." He rolled his eyes.

                "Really! I mean it…you're quite handsome, actually. One of the kindest people I ever met. Most polite, too. Especially now when you don't have the angry façade to hide your real personality." She smiled. "Funny, maybe even funnier then Chris when it comes down to it – only in a more quiet way. You're a catch, Benoit. Lilian is lucky to have the aspect of such a great guy."

                "Lita…"

                "Yeah?"

                And, in one of the biggest showing of affection he ever had, he pulled her into a hug that definitely shocked her. When the realization struck of what he was doing, she felt a small smile appear on her face and hugged him back. He let go as quickly as he started it, probably realizing what he had doing, and instantly turned red. Lita just chuckled, which probably didn't help but it was too cute of a moment for her not to appreciate.

                "S-sorry, I didn't mean to…"

                "I love ya too, Chris." She giggled. He blushed deeper. "Now, come on, let's figure out how you're going to wear your hair tonight, hmm?"