Jekyll and Hyde (for Robert Roode)

It was supposed to be a quiet night at the Gator Bar, right by the Impact Zone. It was supposed to be a celebration of a new chapter for TNA, and the creation of the enormous super group, Immortal. However, one member in particular was inwardly seething as he bore holes through the older man standing in front of him.

"And I really need you to take care of the paperwork. Oh, and the house shows. I know you're running merchandise too, but I need to focus on being a character, not doing the paper pushing." Eric Bischoff gave Jeff a sympathetic smile. "You can do it, I know you can! You're the best, Jeff- you REALLY are. No one can handle that level of work but you- because you're a trooper." Eric put his hand on Jeff's shoulder. "And I really respect you for being a total pushove- errrr, I mean work horse."

"I do all the paper-"

"I know, I KNOW you do." Eric nodded. "Because you're the best Jeff! Everyone here knows it. So keep being that busy little bee you normally are!" He patted the younger man's cheek.

Jeff seethed as he looked into Eric's beady, smiling eyes. Ever since he came in January, all he seemed to do was make Jeff's like miserable- adding more work, making a joke out of him in his own company. The white hot rage inside of him boiled up- his hands began to shake. And something inside of him just... snapped. His whole demeanor changed. His shoulders loosened up, and his expression went from one of unhappiness to a smug sort of look. "Oh. I see. I don't know who ya'll are, ya ugly little hamster. But get the hell outta my face. You're ruinin' my good time. I'm surrounded by all these men, an' you come up to approach moi? Gosh, I musta done somethin' wrong if all I'm attractin' is YOU."

Eric blinked in surprise. "Uh, Jeff? ....Is something the matter?"

"I said get out of my FACE. And do me a favor? Unlearn my name. It's too pretty to roll off that hamster tongue a yours." He sniffed and picked up his beer turning his back to Bischoff.

"You little idiot! What's gotten into you!" Eric barked and grabbed Jeff by the shoulder again. He spun him around, greeted by a face full of beer. He stepped back, shocked.

Jeff smiled sweetly at him and turned back to the bartender. "Sir- I do believe I need another beer. I seemed to have carelessly spilled mine."

Robert Roode was sitting back, lounging in a booth with the boys of Immortal. He was still on his first beer, rolling his eyes as his long time friend and tag partner, James Storm, was almost plastered. While he didn't mind going out and having a good time every now and then, he did like to get some rest so he'd be ready for whatever the next day threw at him.

He raised an eyebrow as he saw Eric talking to Jeff. He did his best to hide his laughter as Jeff threw the beer in his face and then so casually going to get another. As amusing as it was, it wasn't really Jeff's style. Finishing up his beer, he went to get himself another, walking over to the older man.

"Now I know Bischoff can be a pain in the ass, but, do you really want to piss him off like that?" he said quietly, not wanting their new boss to overhear.

Jeff stared at Robert, almost stricken right off of his stool. He blinked at him, and cleared his throat, his hands instantly going up to fix his blonde curls. However- they felt a good deal shorter than they should have been. He brushed it off- it wasn't important right now. ...His leg could be on fire and it wouldn't be important right now. He flashed him a smile. "Piss him off? Him? The hamster faced chump? Oh honey, I'm not worried. Good ole J E Double F J A Double R E Double T ain't afraid of creeps like that!" He waved Eric off dismissively.

"He can kiss my sparkly ass for all I care." He huffed and leaned against the bar, batting his blue eyes at Robert. "You however-- should take this." He whipped out a pen and scrawled his phone number across a napkin and tucked it in the middle of Robert's shirt collar. "An' give me a ring some time."

Robert looked at Jeff, completely taken aback. This was not Jeff....well, at least the Jeff as of late. When the bartender set his drink down, he took a healthy swig, trying to clear his head.

"Jeff, are you feeling all right? You don't sound like yourself. Maybe you should go upstairs, sleep it off."

Robert was starting to think that Eric may be working The King of the Mountain a little too hard.

"Feelin' amazin'! For the first time in along time, I'm feelin'... like my old self again." He said slowly as the words fell out of his mouth. "An' that is worth it's weight in gold, honey! Don't you forget that." He smirked and then blinked at Robert.

"Head upstairs..? Whatever for. It's not even last call! I got more energy than that." He scoffed. "Well... unless ya'll were gonna accompany me upstairs. I suppose that'd be alright then. Gotta love you Canadians. Ya'll are always so gallant." Jeff drawled out and dragged a finger down the middle of Robert's chest. He knew Canadians well- back in 1994 when he was first with the WWF, all he did was hang out with the Harts.

Robert looked at the finger on his chest, then up at Jeff. He smiled politely, as was his way, but shook his head.

"As tempting as that sounds, someone needs to keep an eye on Storm, make sure he makes it back to his room in one piece without starting a fight....again. But, I really think you need to relax, Double J. You've been working way too hard...."

A blank look crossed Jeff's face. Storm? What Storm? He glanced over toward the dingy bar room window. It didn't look like it was storming out. Then it dawned on him that he was talking about a person. He pouted and placed his hands on his hips.

"Storm? Who the heck is Storm?" He glanced around the room again, not recognizing absolutely anyone.

James got up from the booth, staggering over to the two of them. "BOBBEH. Ahm outta beer an' soberin' up. I need 'nother beer." He leaned over the bar and waved down the bartender. "OOooohhh Dub J! Ahm gonna buy ya one too for pissin' off Bischoff! It was beauuuutiful!"

"Ya mean the hamster?" Jeff took the offered beer and drank it down faster than he normally would. "He was an idiot. I kept tellin' him to go but he didn't. So that's what he gets." He nodded and then looked at Robert and James. "Jus' who the heck are ya'll anyway?"

Robert rolled his eyes at his friends comment, looking back over to Jeff when he asked who they were.

"You...you're kidding, right? Either that or you've had way too much to drink. We've worked for you....or your company, for years. Hell, James has been in TNA since almost the start. Seriously, man, go to bed. Hogan hears you talking like this, he's going to think you've lost your mind."

"I have not had too much to drink!" Jeff said looking offended. "I had one beer an' I threw it on that awful idiot earlier. This is my second." He said motioning back behind him. "...Wh..What? What are ya talkin' 'bout?" Jeff blinked stupidly at them, and then it dawned on them. These two guys must be talking about USWA. He didn't recall James, but that was probably due to the way the indy circuit worked. "Ohhh shoot, never mind then! What was I thinkin'?"

James looked relieved. "Dub-J! Ya'll remembered us! For a second there I was gettin' a lil' scared. Crisis, averted."

Robert looked Jeff over, not really convinced that he was okay. He finished off his second drink of the night, calling over the bartender for another. He was hoping it was him, that he was off balance, not Jeff.

"Yeah....it'd be pretty bad if you didn't remember us, Jeff...." he said quietly.

He decided he'd keep an eye on Jeff, make sure he kept his head on his shoulders.

"Exactly!" Jeff exclaimed. "I couldn't forget ya'll." He lied through his teeth and promised he'd contact his father in the morning about who they were so he could stop lying. He pounded back the last of his beer and glanced to the dance floor. A big smile spread on his face as he grabbed James and Robert's wrists. "Come on boys! Let's hit the dance floor! I wanna dance!"

"Woooeeee! I like this Dub-J. Ya should have a few more often." James nodded and let Jeff drag him along. With a few beers in him, James was down with a lot of things.

Robert was a little hesitant to join them, but thought it'd be better to watch them than let the two of them go alone. James and Double J drunk could probably get in a hell of a lot of trouble. So, he went out to the dance floor with them and moved with them.

James didn't quite know what he was doing, but he didn't care as he danced around with his bottle of beer in his hand. So far, so good with him. Jeff on the other hand was far less inhibited on the floor.

Jeff shimmied and shook, bumped and ground his way through the crowd of people- some of which worked for him at TNA. They were shocked at Jeff's behavior, but... happy that he at least looked like he was having a good time dancing around like that. "I'm havin' a great time, Bobbeh!" He called out making his way back to the younger man. "Come on. Dance with me. Ya'll look too tightly wound."

Robert shook his head as he watched James make an ass out of himself. That wasn't anything unusual. But Jeff....his eyes widened as he watched him move. Never in all the time he worked for Jeff had he seen him dance. He rolled his eyes when Jeff said he was wound; everyone seemed to think that about him.

"I am not! But someone needs to be responsible and clearly that's not you tonight!" he called back.

He knew how to relax; you had to if you hung out with Storm as much as he did. He just wasn't as....outrageous James or some of his other friends....

"I know! It's because I'm havin' fun! ....I'm havin' fun." He repeated, blinking the words were alien. He paused and didn't move, shaking his head out a few times. He looked utterly confused as he glanced up to Robert again. "R...Robert?" He paled a little, reaching in to the back of his pants pocket to pull out a bunch of telephone numbers scrawled out on paper. "What..."

"Dub-J! Why'd ya stop! Ya'll wanted to dance!"

Jeff looked at James and shook his head. "No, I don't dance. Ugh, I don't feel well. Feels like my head is real foggy. I don't even... I don't even remember comin' in here." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Robert, I know you an' James are havin' a good time... I think... but... can one a ya please escort me back to my room?"

Robert nodded, wrapping an arm around Jeff's shoulders.

"Yeah, I'll walk up with you, Jeff. I was just thinking of getting some sleep myself." He turned to look at James. "You think you can behave yourself for the rest of the night?" he asked teasingly, though part of him knew better than to ask that.

The answer was always no.

"Come on, let's get you outta here. Maybe you'll feel better after a good night's rest."

"PPpppfbbbt." James waved his hands around. "A 'course I can't! Don't worry tho', I'll hang 'round with the Guns." He grinned. "Don't worry. I won't get arrested. See ya in the mornin' Bobbeh!" He waved to him and went back to hang out with Sabin and Shelly.

"Thanks Robert." Jeff said softly, running his hand through his wavy blonde hair. "I"m sorry for pulling ya away from your friends, even if ya are tired." He said with a frown as they made their way out of the hotel bar. "Did I do something stupid in there? Tell me the truth, Robert. I gotta know so I can work on damage control. "

Robert sighed, fully expecting a call later that night-or early morning-from James saying he got arrested for being intoxicated in public or indecent exposure. But, he just kept walking with Jeff, more concerned with his well being at the moment.

He rubbed the back of his neck as they continued walking.

"Well, Jeff, you were pretty out of it tonight. It was mostly harmless, you were just dancing with a few people, having a good time. But, uh....you did insult Bischoff and throw a beer in his face...."

Jeff stopped, stopping them both in the hallway.

He stared up at Robert for a long time and then finally spoke. "I threw a beer at Eric Bischoff, huh?" He smiled a little. "So the night must not have been all bad. He probably did somethin' to deserve that." He sighed. "Ugh, wish I woulda remembered why I'm probably gonna be reprimanded in the mornin', but whatever. What a strange night." He started walking with Robert again.

Robert chuckled, continuing towards Jeff room with him.

"I was sitting with Storm at the time, so I didn't hear exactly what Eric was saying, but, it looked like he was lecturing you or something. Besides, that man deserves to have something thrown in his face every now and then...."

"I guess so." Jeff said slowly wondering how this was going to effect him in the morning. He pinched the bridge of his nose, heading to the door of his hotel room. He stopped out in front, reaching out to touch Robert's arm. "Robert- thank ya for walkin' me back an'... watchin' me tonight. One a these days, provided I'm still employed, I wanna buy ya dinner in thanks." He brought his arm back to the side. "Thanks again, Robert. I won't keep ya any more."

Robert smiled at Jeff, patting his back.

"Don't worry too much about Eric. Hogan understands how valuable you are to this company. Besides, if they were ever stupid enough to fire you, you'd have plenty of guys walking out in protest. You gave all of us a place to work when the WWE wouldn't give us a chance. You've supported us and we'll always be grateful." he replied with a smile. "As for dinner, I'll gladly take you up on that. Night, Double J."

With that, Robert left Jeff, starting to walk towards his own room.

"Goodnight, Robert." Jeff said slowly and watched him go. Once he no longer could see the other man he carefully made his way inside of his hotel room for a long night's sleep.

When he woke up he was treated to a very curt, very annoyed telephone call from Bischoff. He groaned and rolled out of bed, heading to the impact zone for the next set of tapings- where he was greeted by loud bellowing from an irate Eric who was upset at the younger man for humiliating him the night before. Eric made sure to do the yelling in front of the whole roster as a measure of complete disregard of Jeff as a previous member of management.

Jeff chewed on his bottom lip, his back from all the TNA talent but he knew they were all watching. His hands were shaking as he curled his fingers into fists, the nails digging into his flesh as he forced himself to nod along. "I'm sorry Eric. Won't happen again."

"It had better not, we own your ass and everyone else's ass here- and you'd be good to know that you washed up piece of mid-card trash!" Eric pushed Jeff back. "Now get out of my face! You're lucky you still have a job."

Jeff took in a slow, steady breath, trying to count back from 10 before he did something he would regret. But for whatever reason, he couldn't. He just couldn't. He snapped again, seeing nothing but red as he hauled off and punched Eric in the face- in front of the whole TNA roster.

Robert went to his own room, getting into some pajamas and going to sleep. Of course he was woken up hours later thanks to James being brought back by the Guns. He kept his back turned from the door, rolling his eyes as he heard James laughing like an idiot one minute and then pass out the next.

In the morning, he took his shower and got ready for work. He practically poured a whole pot of coffee down James's throat and helped him get ready as well, rolling his eyes at how hung over he was.

When they got to the Impact Zone, they were told there was a meeting, so obviously they attended. Robert bit his tongue as he watched Eric berate Jarrett in front of everyone. He didn't need to see Jeff's face to see he was angry, embarrassed. His eyes widened, however, when Double J hauled off and hit him. He ran over to Jeff, pulling him away from their new boss.

"Jeff....man, calm down!"