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Chris' short lived feud with Randy had run its course. He had stood in the ring vowing to save the WWE Universe from Orton. The events led Chris and Randy to Armageddon where they wrestled for the title. Chris won their match-up after JBL interfered, but Orton retained the title. Next up was a feud with JBL, which led to The Royal Rumble.

Since Chris' return to his WWE home his wrestling life had been rewarding. His life outside the ring was still unsteady as each day every small choice he made seemed to be monumental. Even choosing what to wear was difficult, wanting to feel comfortable, acknowledge his true gender, while trying to gain as little negative attention as possible. Chris knew that eventually all the subtly wouldn't matter anymore, because he meant in time to take more drastic steps and then there would be no discrete quirked eyebrows: they would know.

A big part of Chris' free time was spent researching his condition and the various methods of changing it. Some transgender people chose to live their lives as their true gender simply with their attitude, mannerisms, and ways of dress, while others opted for hormone therapy, or even the most altering: gender reassignment surgery. It was a very personal decision and based on ones own concept of gender. Was gender a psychological mindset? A cultural role? A biological characteristic?

Chris had answered all of his own questions long ago, and he had simply hidden those answers away and tried to mark over them with his constructed male person. He already knew where he wanted to be eventually on his journey, and it was both exciting and terrifying. There was so much to lose, and the biggest loss had already occurred. His family was basically gone. His ex-wife spoke to him only briefly, and always coldly, when he called to try and talk with his children. His son refused to be put on the phone, and his oldest daughter barely spoke when she would accept the call. Maddy was the only one to remain loyal and ever loving of her father, and they spent long hours on the phone talking of everything and nothing, as her giggles poured over the miles and brought both happy and sad tears to Chris's eyes.

The main family Chris had now was his wrestling one, and all of that too was at stake in this journey. Mark was still the only one to know that Chris was a woman, but soon enough the evidence of change to accommodate his true self would be gradually noticeable, and it would have to come out.

It had been just over five months since Chris had returned in September. For five months he had been showcasing himself as a more feminine version and the only jokes or inferences easily tossed about were about his orientation rather than anything more, which he was used to already. Some of the guys had even been supportive, thinking that the divorce of his wife and subsequent changes were evidence of Chris 'coming out' and accepting what he was. In this assumption they were both right, and wrong.

Only recently had Chris made another step by speaking to a doctor about these things. The physician hashed over the options that Chris had already researched himself, and then suggested Chris see a therapist or psychologist before making any life-altering decisions. Chris spoke with Vince about seeing one of the company recommended shrinks. Chris allowed Vince to believe his reasons for needing the extra guidance was because of the divorce, and having seen the catastrophic fall-out of divorce among his employees many times before, Vince had no reason to suspect otherwise. A busy schedule allowed for few actual office visits, so most of the sessions and talks were done over the phone.

"Hey Princess." Mark said, moving over to the bed opposite of his after the blond had hung up the phone. He pulled his ear buds out and dumped the player onto the nightstand between the two beds, having been enjoying some Guns N Roses while he gave Chris his privacy for his phone session. He wrapped an arm around the smaller mans' shoulders. "You doin' okay?"

"Alright, I guess. It's rough sometimes, talking about all of it." Chris sighed. "Dr. Roberts wanted to know about when and why I made the decision to live male all these years, why I didn't do this a long time ago." Chris moved his fingers to pick at one of the sequins on the lip of his jeans pocket. The tiny circular ornament glinted and winked as his fingers bothered it. "I don't even really know the guy, and I'm supposed to share all this deep, dark stuff with him. It took me years to even face my wife and try to tell her, and yet I'm supposed to bare it all to a stranger?"

"You could always bare it all to a friend…know what I mean?" Mark joked, hoping to brighten Chris's mood. He grabbed Chris's sides and tickled them, pulling the blond into his lap as he wiggled and begged Mark to stop through a flood of uncontrollable laughter. Mark began to speak again, but his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pushed Chris out of his lap, and got up to answer it, mouthing 'Shawn' at Chris. Chris's lips quirked up into a smile at the mention of Shawn's name. Mark was on the phone a few moments, before hanging up.

"Shawn wants us to go out with him and a couple of the others tonight." Mark said to Chris, who agreed with him wordlessly by sauntering over to the door, and bending to pick up the boots he had tossed off earlier. Mark couldn't help but watch the way Chris' hips swayed as he moved, and with a small laugh he hurried over and swatted at Chris' rear. The blonde yelped and quickly straightened up, falling back against Mark's strong chest. Chris spun around, pretending to pout.

"What was that for, assclown?"

"I'm sorry, where were my manners? I just saw this lady with a nice ass and they kind of escaped me." Mark picked up one of Chris's other shoes—the ones he'd been wearing around the hotel room. They were a pair of cute little heels, with pointed toes that had peeked from under the cuffs of Chris' jeans. "You think I would look good in these?"

Chris laughed, and pulled on his other boot.

"Mark, you're the best."

"Hell Irvine, I know that." Mark grinned. He was glad to see Chris's mood righted to a happier one. He sat the heels on the bed and moving over to Chris. "You ready?"

The two of them met up with Shawn and Hunter in the hotel parking lot. Together they made it to the bar where Dave and Cena were waiting at a table in the corner of the bar, which had a big booth seat wrapped around it in a horse-shoe shape. Shawn rushed over ahead of the other three and slid in next to Cena, reaching over to flick the kids ear. Dave laughed, and nodded to the other men as they filled up the booth. The newcomers ordered drinks, and the group shared some loud chatter, stopping only when another fellow wrestler came up to the table and fairly loomed over it.

"Hey, Big Paul!" Mark greeted the giant, and Dave and Hunter clinked their beer mugs together, as if in a toast.

"Have room for another guest?" Paul asked, looking around at each face, smiling.

"Oh shit—I don't know man. We might have to pull up a few more chairs." Hunter ribbed, causing John to choke on a mouthful of his stout Guinness.

"Move your ass!" Paul shouted, jovially squeezing in next to Hunter. He managed to get most of his ass onto the cushion. "So, what are you gonna buy me to drink, Jericho?" Paul asked, reaching over the table to ruffle the blonde's hair. "You're so cute and little." He joked, just to see Chris put on his fake pout.

"Not gonna buy you anything now." Chris huffed, pretending to be upset. The others laughed.

"Aw, don't feel bad Big Paul." Shawn said, flipping through the drink menu. "I'll buy you something." Shawn waved the waitress over, and tapped his finger at a picture in the drink menu.

"Oh hey—and bring me another beer." Dave put in.

"Me too!" Cena said, holding up his glass which sported only a bit of foam left in the bottom.

"Here-here!" Hunter chimed in.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Shawn squawked. "You guys think I'm made of money?"

"Yep." Mark chuckled, tipping his mug to his lips. A hearty laughter rippled through the group.

The waitress gave them all a grin, and flounced away to get their drinks. The conversation started up again, and soon disintegrated into crude jokes, multiple conversations trying to be heard over the others, and some innocent play-flirting, the latter mostly dished out by Shawn. The seven men looked up when the waitress brought their drinks back. A gale of crazy laughter erupted when she placed the last drink on the table—in front of Paul. It was a big pink drink decked out with all sorts of frilly toys. Paul took a good minute just choking on his laughter, as his face turned a bright hue of red. Finally he managed to get it down to just intermittent giggles, and wrapped his lips around the curly straw that came with the drink. Cena whipped out his phone and snapped a picture. Paul broke out into laughter all over again, prompting the others to roll too. He jabbed a big finger at Cena, and good-naturedly threatened his life if the picture leaked out onto the internet.

"God, this shit tastes horrible!" Paul shook his head, having taken another sip. He licked at his lips, his nose scrunching up in disgust. "Here Hunt, try it." Paul pushed the drink towards H, who shook his head.

"I'm not drinking after you. Give it to Shawn, he's not picky about what his lips touch."

Shawn's mouth fell open in shock, and he landed a quick slap to the back of Hunter's head as the table erupted again. The drink was passed to a few of the other guys, who all decided it was too girly for their manliness to handle. Dave passed the drink to Chris.

"You take it CJ, it's too fruity for me. I think it suits you better." Dave chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chris asked with a smile, and gave Dave a wink. Chris sipped at the drink, enjoying the sweetness. Dave returned the wink, adding a pucker of his lips.

"No thanks Animal, I'm not into bestiality."

"Hey Jericho—that would be THE Aniaml." Dave clarified, trying to look threatening over his designer sunglasses. It just wasn't working. Chris went quiet, and listened to the chatter of the others as he played with the umbrella in the drink that had now become his. He was glad to be having a nice night out with his friends, but still his mind went back to deeper thoughts. A pang of sadness bit at his heart, as he looked around at each face, afraid that some of them—and other friends who weren't with them just then—would reject Chris once they all knew about her.

He glanced at each face, and a few of them he couldn't imagine judging him so harshly: of course there was Mark, then Shawn, and John Cena with his cute dimples and kind smile, and surely Big Paul wouldn't be so harsh, having been dealt his own biological faux pas in form of his massive size. Someone was talking to Chris, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was Shawn, and Chris managed a smile at him, as he felt a warm blush creep across his cheeks. He had been sneaking peeks at Shawn all evening, he looked just killer wearing a tan shirt, the top button popped, with his trademark and poked fun at high waisted jeans. His long, pretty hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung between his shoulders. For some reason, a flash of that night years ago barreled into his mind—that night when he had convinced Shawn to go out with him in drag, and oddly enough they'd ran into Mark at the gay bar they'd stumbled into. Chris' blush heated further, remembering the way he helped Shawn with the mascara, and the corset, and how bothered Shawn had made him—flirting like fiend as usual, and then leaving Chris practically gasping. Any chance he had ever had with Shawn had most likely been blown that night, when Chris had freaked out over the sex.

"Chris, are you okay?" Shawn asked, once more scattering the blonds' roaming thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just…gotta go to the little gi—boys room."

Chris made his way to the restroom, and ducked in. He hated the men's bathroom. Despite having the same anatomy as all other occupants, he always felt embarrassed and out of placed. Luckily he hadn't excused himself to whip it out, only to splash some cold water onto his face. He grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the drips curling down his face, and when he'd patted his skin dry he tossed it away. He took a couple of steps back to get a better image of himself in the mirror. He straightened his shirt a little—a close fitting, light pink tee with a white guitar and red roses on it. He'd loved it the moment he'd seen it, it just seemed to fit many of aspects of his personality, and the pale shade of pink looked pretty with his blond hair and blue eyes. His hands moved down his body, and his fingers plucked again at one of the sequins around the pocket of his jeans. Chris took another step back, not even noticing a reflection in the mirror, and bumped into the man who was passing behind him.

"Watch what you're doing, fucking twink." The man snapped, moving over to one of the urinals with a glare.

Chris left the bathroom just as the sound of flowing urine reached his ears. He sauntered back over to the table, and sat back down, seeing everyone quiet.

"What?" He asked, looking around at each face.

"Nothing." Multiple voices said at once. Chris narrowed his eyes at them. John seemed to be trying awfully hard not to laugh.

"Right, what did you guys do?" Chris looked down at his drink. "Did someone spit in it, or what?"

"Oh, come on Chris, we wouldn't do that." Hunter said, his voice sounding a little too sweet.

"You all did something."

Chris said, looking warily at his drink. Cautiously, he took a sip, and the look of disgust on his face made everyone go off into another group fit. The sweet fruity drink now tasted horrible—and Chris looked over at the two shakers on the table, to see the one which would have contained salt, completely empty. He grabbed up his napkin and wiped his tongue on it, shuddering at the taste that didn't seem to want to leave. He grabbed Shawn's coke and drank from the glass until the horrible taste was mostly gone.

The evening passed with many drinks, jokes, stories, and plenty of laughter exchanged. Paul decided to leave a bit earlier, and not long after, Cena and Dave left too. Mark moved out of the booth, groaning when stood up.

"I have to go outside and stretch my legs a little, my damn knees are killing me."

"I'm gonna go too." Hunter put in, scooting out of the booth. He and Mark headed towards the door, with Mark limping a little, as Chris watched after him.

"Chris?"

Chris turned to Shawn.

"So Chris, I was just wondering, are you seeing anyone?" Shawn asked, reaching over and plucking one of the decorations from Chris' tainted drink.

"Uh, no."

"Really?" Shawn pulled the strawberry from the blue stick and nibbled at it. "I thought maybe you and Mark were together. Hm, you mean to tell me a good looking guy like you can't get a date? Or…or is it too soon, y'know after the di—Chris, I'm sorry." Shawn laid the strawberry aside, and took one of Chris' hands into his.

"It's not really about the divorce it's just…Shawn, there are some pretty heavy things going on in my life right now." Chris answered, his eyes keeping watch on Shawn's hands cupped around his. It felt warm, and good to have Shawn touching him.

"I know." Shawn said, smiling.

No. Chris thought. Shawn, you don't know at all.

"But Chris, you can't keep being afraid like this. I was thinking that uh, maybe sense you don't have anyone right now, that we could get together sometime." Shawn released Chris's hand, and picked up the blue stick again, and stabbed at the strawberry with it. "Doesn't have to anything real serious, just two friends testing boundaries, you know? It might be good for you. What do you think?"

Chris' head had been sent spinning. Shawn had vexed him for ages with his irresistible everything, just as he had many others. It had crossed Chris' mind many times to ask Shawn out, or to try and end up curled up with him some night, maybe after a little too much alcohol, but he'd never got around to doing it. Shawn was known to be picky in his choice of partner, despite the countless jokes about Shawn being 'easy'. Under the show of confidence Chris often put on, he had always been secretly afraid of being rejected by his long time friend and even longer time crush. Now here was Shawn asking him—and his brain had seemed to self-destruct. He knew he couldn't date Shawn now, not with everything else that was going on, not with everything that Shawn didn't know—and yet that one word tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Yes."