Winnipeg, Manitoba...on Christmas Eve. It was colder than you could imagine. But that didn't stop CJ from driving out into the overwhelming amount of snowfall that the city would recieve that evening. He'd gotten the call from Lance, who wasn't but a 15-minute drive away at his parents' house, to meet at a bar that was more than a half hour's drive away. CJ had no idea why he couldn't just drive over to the Evers' place anyway. It wasn't as if their families hadn't gotten closer in the nine years that Lance and Chris knew each other professionally.

He'd find out soon enough. The bar was out-of-the-way, dimly lit and quiet, not at all crowded now that it was Christmas Eve. Only a few stragglers that weren't too happy to have to later go home and face family members occupied a booth or two this evening. Chris arrived to see Lance back in the far back of the bar, already starting on a beer.

"Happy holidays," scoffed Chris as he took a seat across from his best friend. He slid a wrapped package across the table. Lance looked at him suspiciously.

"Don't do me like that," CJ said, answering the glare. "Open it."

"Why'd you go and do that when you know I didn't get you anything?" Lance looked at him reproachfully.

"Buy me a beer or something."

"Sure. But I'll wait til I get home to open this," he said, pushing the package aside. "I don't feel like being happy right now." He motioned for the waitress. "One for my bro."

"Mind telling me why, now that I'm home?"

Lance sipped at his brew. "Tell me how the family is first. Tell me about Stephanie. Let me hear some good news."

"Mom and Dad are Mom and Dad. They've invited some other family over this year so there are people crawling around the house for money. That's always nice. I haven't seen these assholes in 15 years and now all of a sudden everyone knows everything about me because I'm with the WWF now."

"Lovely," Lance said. "Must be nice to be loved."

Chris shrugged. "Whatever. Stephie's all right." He nodded thanks to the waitress as she rested a beer in front of him. "I miss her like crazy already. Called her twice today."

"So tell me what you told her. It couldn't have been that bad if she's still talking to you as of late."

He grinned, then set down his mug. "I promised her we're gonna get our own little place as soon as possible. Gave her a ring...for collateral on that promise, I guess."

"No kidding?" Lance smiled, genuinely happy for his friend. "That's good of you. You really wanna settle down now, huh?"

"I think I do. I mean, you know me, Lance. This is the first girl I've really...really loved. Stephanie's so special, you know...she's..." His voice trailed off as he noticed his friend's melancholy expression. Chris pieced the puzzle together. He moved forward and spoke quietly to his friend. "Lance...it's about Allison, isn't it?"

With the mention of her name, Lance blinked and looked away. Chris saw tears in his eyes. "What is it? You can't go on making me talk about my life, Lance. Tell me what it is."

At first, Chris could barely hear Lance, but his words were unmistakeable. "What it is...is over." He shook his head. "It's over now, Chris. All of it."

"Divorce?" Chris could barely utter the word before Lance rested his face in his hands, already in tears. "Christ...Lance...what happened?"

"Money," he murmured through his fingers. "Everything's been so fucked up lately, Chris, with Philly and with all the work going on that's causing me to never be at home...and when I'm home it's like hell on earth. I haven't been making enough in Philly to support her or my girl...my baby girl...not on our lifestyle. And they deserve better. God, they deserve so much better than what I'm giving them."

CJ was awestruck, then a little angry. "Jesus Christ, Lance, why didn't you call me sooner? Why didn't you let me know? I could have helped, I'm always around to help..."

"I couldn't bother you," Lance said. "Not with you having to make that transition and everything, one company to the other. It was a big thing."

"But this is family though," Chris said. "Don't you think if I knew I could have helped you out?"

"I don't need a handout," he said, his eyes downcast. "I just need my girls to stay with me."

"Have any papers been drawn up yet?"

"I got the first notice yesterday. Not that I didn't know it was coming." He sighed. "You couldn't have saved it, Chris. Nobody could have, but me. I should have gotten out of Philadelphia when I had the chance to. I should have gone south when I had the chance..."

"Stop," CJ answered quickly. "Just stop, Lance. Things wouldn't have been any better down there, I know that for a fact..."

"You were at least getting paid," Lance said bitterly. "It's not always about going to work with a smile, Chris. If I were smart, I would have jumped ship when I had the chance. Even if I hated it, it would have problably saved my marriage..."

Chris thought about Shane McMahon then, and then about old Heyman down there slowly suffering in Pennsylvania. "Lance," he said, interrupting him, "maybe it's not too late, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

Chris played around with his beer mug. "I mean, when I was in Conneticut with Stephie, I had the chance to sit around with Vince. And Shane. Shane's going to get people to start communication with Heyman. He's going to restart the connections between the promotions." Chris remembered Shane's smugness and then quietened a little. "Or so he says."

"So what does that mean for you and me?"

"We'll be shuffled around for a little while, I guess. Until old Paul gets enough to where he's satisfied and can save his promotion." Chris smiled. "I'll be working your shows and you'll be working mine. You'll be all right once this all gets started...see what I'm saying?"

Lance was quiet then, his eyes still locked on Chris. "You're saying you'd be back in Philly for a time?"

"Sure," Chris said. "Maybe we can tag again. Who knows?" Now that it was coming out of his own mouth, CJ began to warm a little to the idea. Especially now that he knew it could help his friend out and perhaps even save his marriage.

His warmth was dimmed momentarily when Lance brought up the next inevitable point. "Will she be coming there with you?"

"No," he snapped, in spite of himself. "No, she's not going to Philly."

Lance nodded. "That's what I'd hoped you'd say."

Chris sighed. "I...I don't know, I couldn't live with myself, the way I am now, and let her go with me when I'm there. You understand?"

"Absolutely," Lance said. "That's why I have to ask you, Chris. Are you sure you would want to go back there? Especially now?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice," CJ replied, again playing with his mug. "With Shane and all dying for me to help out with this, since I have 'ties', so to speak. And now that I know this'll help you out...yeah, I'm willing to go back."

"You know how it used to be, right? It was such a test, Chris. A test on all that faith you have."

CJ closed his eyes. "I remember."

"I'm just saying, I don't want you to have to go back down there just to give me a boost." Lance looked away. "I don't think there's much I could do to be happy anymore anyway."

"Well, if anything, just for old time's sake," Chris said, opening his eyes again and trying to pass away the awful thought of nothingness that fleeted through his mind just now. "And hey, when you're in Conneticut you can finally meet her, huh?"

"For sure," Lance said. "I'd love to."

"Now are you gonna open that present or what?" CJ shoved the package towards him again.

"Like I said, I'll save it," he answered. "It'll give me something to be happy about tomorrow."

"How's the little one doing?"

"She's a beauty, as usual," Lance said, his liveliness reappearing at the thought of his little girl. "Growing like a garden." He took out his wallet and handed a photograph over to Chris. "I think she's what I'm gonna miss the most if...you know..."

"Yeah," Chris said, glancing over the picture with a smile. "I'll keep you in my prayers."

"What are you doing for the new year celebration?"

"I'll be in New York with everyone else, one hand on Stephanie and the other on a gun."

"Some celebration, huh?" Lance chuckled and stood, leaving a bill on the table. "Almost makes me glad I don't work there, you bastards deserve hazard pay for that kind of thing."

"Hell. It's televised, and the office is all excited about that. Ringing in the millenium with the WWF or something like that." Chris tossed down his tip and followed his friend out into the bitterly cold Winnipeg evening.

"So I'll call you about the exchange thing when I hear more," CJ said, digging for his keys in his pocket. "I guess maybe you'll hear about it before I do."

"Doubtful," Lance said. "Paul never tells me anything anymore. Or anyone else for that matter."

"You think he's losing it, Lance?"

"I don't know," he said, again looking away. "But I don't know much about anything now, I guess. He'll be okay once he has enough cash to gamble away again."

"Yeah well," CJ turned away. "Have a good one tomorrow. I'll call if I can. If I don't, tell everyone in Philly I say hey."

"You too. They'll be glad to hear they'll be seeing you soon."

And only me, so help me God, he thought as he waved goodbye to his close companion.

Meanwhile as Chris Jericho was bidding goodbye to his comrade, Shane McMahon found himself in his father's Stamford office that Christmas eve night, scanning through Vince's computerized files of telephone numbers and addresses while the rest of the family was at home in Greenwich, greeting and visiting with neighbors. Shane figured he'd be a part of the seasonal cheer later...right now, it was time to handle company matters.

He'd still have to be there, it was only 6:00, after all. If Paul Heyman was anything of a businessman he'd remain until the wee hours, even on Christmas eve. Then again, this was Paul Heyman, and as Shane pulled up the telephone number for the promoter's office, he wondered if the man had even been at work at all for the past few days. He'd not heard anything since that fateful voicemail message, so the junior McMahon found himself very skeptical as two rings passed by. He was almost surprised to hear a low, gravelly voice answer on the third.

"Paul Heyman speaking." It was monotone, devoid of any feeling, really. Shane could have been a ticket to a million dollars or yet another harassing creditor or even a loan shark.

"Good to hear your voice," Shane responded. "It's McMahon here...Shane. I've been waiting to get back with you."

A pause. "So you folks are ready to talk to us...up there?" Heyman was wary, as if he was ready to hear an emphatic refusal at any time during the conversation.

"Yes," Shane said, enjoying the finality in his own voice. "And let me say it right off the bat, I feel really good about the prospect of us working together again."

Heyman's mood changed a little. "Nice to know I'm not completely dead to you all."

"If I'd found out sooner that you'd wanted to work with us, I would have gotten in touch with you earlier."

"You mean Vince isn't aware that you're calling me...?" Heyman was pretty quick at putting two and two together. By the way Shane was talking, it sounded as if Vince McMahon would have little to do with this deal. And he was correct.

"Oh no, no, he's very aware that I've been wanting to speak with you about a deal. He just doesn't want to have an active hand in it."

"Guess I understand why," Heyman returned. "At least you're willing to work with me. Can't complain there."

"I don't see where a problem would be," Shane said. "How would you feel about you and some of your people flying up to Conneticut sometime after the holidays and our staff can meet and lay down some definitive plans?"

For the first time in a while, Heyman was positive. "I've been waiting for it. I'd be more than glad."

Shane could literally see those headlines flash past him again. He was only happy that Heyman had decided to come back to the WWF instead of treading new ground down south this time around. "Wonderful, Mr. Heyman. Get in touch with my office sometime between now and New Years. You made the right decision."

"I think you have too. You know...you can refer to me as Paul, if you'd like. Now that I know we'll be in business together for a little while."

The conversation soon ended after that and Paul hung up the telephone. He extinguished his cigarette and settled back in his chair. Yet again, the promoter had pulled himself out of a jam. Briefly he thought over Shane's motives for returning his call. He figured, of course, the WWF could stand to gain from this as well. Again, he was right in reading Shane...he was indeed out for himself, but that's okay. Nothing wrong with two promotions giving each other a friendly boost.

As Heyman closed shop for the day, his mind began to wander into all the nifty little storylines he could get out of that Conneticut talent. Damn, it would be a beautiful thing...

Meanwhile, Shane McMahon had hung up the phone just the same. However, once the conversation was done, he looked over and smiled at Jim Ross, who responded with a proud nod. Now the ball was rolling.

"Go home and enjoy the holiday, son," said Ross, patting Shane on the back. "You've done your good deed for the season."

Time's getting short and I've got to run. Everyone enjoy their first step into 2K and stay safe! See you New Yawkers at the Madison Square Garden show tonight...

Christmas Day 1999 and all its splendor came and left everyone spirited and energetic for the oncoming new year. Twenty-four hours after CJ had made this latest commentary [fully sober, to boot] and did the MSG show the night before, he found himself in a posh yet incredibly crowded New York City hotel lobby, people bustling everywhere around him as he was just now feeling the buzz from all the champange he'd taken in earlier. He was looking for her. He'd forgotten what'd happened most of the evening.

Christ, how did I get here again? He made his way through the lobby, brushing past excited partygoers who were dashing back and forth to find people in the last few minutes of 1999. Chris stopped against a wall for a moment then, taking time to notice the large clock above the hotel's front desk. 11:45. I've done my TV time for tonight. I've made enough of a fool of myself. I'm tired now and I just want to get back to the room...

"Dude, where are you going?" Chris felt a tug on his arm and quickly turned to see good old buddies Jason and Adam pushing past the hotel-scramblers in the lobby. He could barely hear anything, due to the din of the crowd. Jay held on to his arm and Adam held on to Jay's as the three of them moved towards the elevator, forming some sort of a train.

"What?" Chris shouted back but doubted Jay, who had his shirt sleeve in one hand and a beer in the other, could hear anything anyway.

"I asked where you're going! It's fifteen minutes til the new year, come up to the roof, they're filming the celebration!"

Chris looked over at Adam, who rolled his eyes. "This is this idiot's eighth damn beer in less than what, an hour and a half or something. Eight beers," he shouted, still holding on to Jay as Chris led them to the elevators. "And I'm the damned designated driver. Like we're gonna be able to drive anywhere tonight. I...oh, for God's sake, don't spill the fucking thing Jay, I'm not getting you another. Watch yourself!"

"Have you guys seen Stephanie?" Chris shouted this back as he rapidly tapped at the "up" button, trying to control his balance.

Adam and Jay looked at each other and hollered back in unison. "What?"

"Steph...my girl, Stephanie..." He paused as the doors opened and a sea of people rushed out, almost breaking the train the three had formed. They stood there waiting for what seemed like forever, shouting incomprehensibly back and forth to one another and to passers-by, then almost toppled over on each other as they entered the elevator. Chris flooded with relief as the doors closed with only them inside.

He spoke easier now, although very tipsy. "You guys...have you seen Stephanie?"

"Oh yeah, why didn't you say something? She told us to tell you that she's in the room," Adam said, balancing his friend on his shoulder. "Are you gonna make it there okay? You look like you've had a few too many."

Chris nodded, propping himself up against the wall of the elevator as it moved upward. "I'll be fine, I just need to lie down for a little bit."

"But the new year, man, you're gonna miss it," protested Jason, piping in then. "We're gonna be on TV and everything!"

"Yeah, people are gonna love seeing you vomit all over yourself. That'll really put a cap on the millenium," scoffed Adam. "You're not going anywhere near a fucking TV camera until you sober up a little bit. The office would kill us if we made them look bad."

"Eh, let him alone, I'm sure even Vinnie Mac himself has gotten good and shitfaced somewhere up there," Chris murmured as the elevator car stopped on the 11th floor. "My stop."

"You'll be up later?" Adam said this as he pushed Jason off his arm.

"Yeah, I guess," Chris said, staggering off. "I just need to sit down where it's quiet for a little bit."

"If not, I guess we'll see you in the next miller...millie...year, huh?" Jason began to laugh drunkenly and uncontrollably as the elevator doors closed. "Damn, man, I love that line."

Chris found his way to their room, their door, slightly ajar. He pushed it open and saw her standing at the window that overlooked Times Square. She was still dressed up in the little blue party dress she'd worn earlier, but this time her hair was down.

"Stephie..."

She turned around and grinned. "I knew you'd find your way back up. I left the door open so you wouldn't have trouble getting in." Stephanie went over to him and helped him to the bed, embracing him as they sat in front of the window. "Five minutes until the new year, Chris...it's gonna be 2000, honey..." She smiled and shook her head. "God...2000, I can't believe it."

He returned her warm smile and relaxed a little in her arms. "I know, babe. It's gonna be great."

"Hmmhmm," she nodded. "I've even made my resolution already. Have you?"

"I won't know until tomorrow, I guess." He kissed at her neck. "Tell me yours."

"Well," she said happily, "I've been talking to Shane lately. He's been telling me all the big stuff he has planned for next year, Chris. It all sounds just so great...and I just want to be a part of it."

He felt that old worry start to flood inside him again. Here it comes...

"Chris, Shane is going to start up so much communication between us and ECW." She paused, looking outside as a roar came up from the crowd, then turned back to her lover. "I'm going with you when you go back to work with them."

And there it is..."No..." He tried to sit himself up, to clear the cobwebs in his head. "Stephie..."

"Don't, baby," she whispered, silencing his lips with a small kiss. "I've made up my mind. Shane says he'll support me in whatever I want to do. And...well...it's what I want to do..."

He tried to find something to say, looking at her as she smiled, sipping her champange and looking outside. Stephanie stood and went to the window. "It's almost the end of the year, honey. It's going to be new beginnings for all of us."

"Stephanie..." Chris tried to get up, but ended up sitting and staring at her. You're too late...

CJ lay back on the bed then, looking up at the light on the ceiling. After a moment, it flickered and he blinked. Was that the alcohol, or...? Maybe all of this was some alcohol-induced fantasy...maybe he'd wake up in a moment and it'd still be time to...do something.

Stephanie came to sit back beside him. That angelic smile remained on her face as she looked down at CJ and stroked at his hair, then leaned over to kiss him.

"Happy new year, baby."

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