Her blonde Canadian friend and the tough, muscular diva had teamed up against that psycho Victoria and her loser boyfriend, Steven Richards.  It had seemed that everything had been on the up and up - although Lita had serious doubts about Jazz being Trish's tag team partner.  There was just something about the woman - she didn't like her, but more importantly, she didn't trust her, either.  Maybe it was because Jazz likened herself to a bitch - which, of course, was exactly what she was.

Her gaze was riveted to the TV screen as the former Women's champion walked up the ramp, leaving the petite blonde in the ring alone to fend for herself against Victoria and Richards.  This was unbelievable - not even a minute earlier, Jazz had been on the apron, clapping like mad for Trish to make it to her corner to tag her in on the action.  But it had all been a ruse...

"I can't believe the nerve of that woman!" the redhead shouted, wanting more than anything to run out there to the aid of her friend.  Actually, maybe she should go out there - damn the fact that one of the people beating up on Trish was a man.  "What am I talking about?" Lita suddenly said.  "She's not a woman!  Jazz is right about one thing - she is a bitch!"

She winced as she watched the unmerciful ending of the match.  Victoria got the three-count after that vicious-looking neckbreaker thing of hers, and afterward, Trish just lay on the canvas, not moving.  And then...

Oh, God... That asshole Steven Richards was grabbing a chair from ringside.  "No!" Lita shouted, and then, briefly turning around, she suddenly became aware of the fact that Jeff was gone.

"Jeff?"  The redhead shifted her gaze back to the monitor, her eyes wide by now, and was surprised as she saw the colorful-haired young man running down the ramp to the ring.  He was on his way to rescue Trish - and thank goodness for that.

*

Trish Stratus cringed in the corner of the ring, her battered body full of pain.  She'd just wrestled a grueling match - one that had basically been a handicap match - and an intergender one, at that, and she felt like bloody hell.  Not only had Victoria beaten her up, but the woman's idiot boyfriend, Steven Richards had done quite a number on her himself.

The little blonde winced as she held a hand up to the back of her head.  Damn it... She should have known better than to agree to teaming up with the likes of Jazz.  She knew what kind of person the muscular diva was, and she should have listened to that little voice inside her head.  Likewise, she should have listened to the warnings her best friend, Lita, had issued to her as well.  The redhead knew Jazz all too well from their ECW days together, and they'd never seen eye-to-eye back then, either.

Shit... It was too late to think of what she should have done.  Trish raised her weary head and saw the psychotic couple coming after her, a steel chair in Richards' hands.  Her eyes widened in fright as she realized he was going to smash her with it.

The petite blonde woman squeezed her eyes shut in her horrible anticipation of the blow, but it never came.  And then, she suddenly realized that the fans in the crowd were cheering...

As Trish opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that someone had evidently come to her rescue.  Steven Richards was currently getting his ass handed to him, and the chair was dropkicked into his face, sending the man sprawling.  As Trish continued to watch, she realized the identity of her savior - Jeff Hardy.

The young man tossed the Women's champion into the turnbuckles, and then Richards came back and made his next move - which proved to be a big mistake, as the younger Hardy brother faked him out.  Steven went hurtling into the turnbuckles, directly into Victoria.

The raven-haired diva made an attempt to strike out at Jeff, but the rainbow-haired man sent her sprawling, then, quick as a cat, he began to climb the turnbuckles, and Trish knew he was going to try a Swanton Bomb.  However, before he could even make it all the way up to the top, Richards, on the outside of the ring, yanked his girlfriend out to safety.

The Hardy Boy angrily watched the pair for a moment as they retreated up the ramp to the backstage area.  Then, turning toward Trish, his features softened, and he made his way over to her, helping her to her feet.

The little blonde clung onto his arm gratefully, wondering what on earth might have happened had the young man not come to her rescue.  She didn't even want to think about it...

Jeff reached out and gently touched her shoulder, and Trish met his green gaze, too stunned and in too much pain to even utter a thank you.  Then, to her further shock, the young man reached out with one hand, pulling her head toward him so that their foreheads met...

And then Jeff Hardy kissed her.

Trish stared in shock at the North Carolinian as he slowly departed the ring, leaving her standing there.  She watched him wonderingly, one hand going up to her face, which was partially covered with his body paint from the kiss.

She told herself she would have to seek Jeff out later on, after she'd cleaned up and possibly got checked out by the trainer.  All of a sudden, they had a lot to talk about...