This is my second foray into the world of wrestling fanfiction, having spent a couple of years off the radar. Please let me know if you like or don't like this. Suggestions for improvements are always welcome. Thank you and enjoy.
Shenigma x
Dedicated to all the impossible, fictional men
Stephanie endeavoured to be kind to the new girl on her first day, as she tried to be to all the new girls. After all, hers could be the last friendly face they saw before their service started. The fast turnaround certainly suggested that.
"Come in," she said, brightly, on hearing the girls polite knock at the door of her mobile office.
The new girl entered making little noise and peering in beforehand as if she doubted she truly had permission to cross the threshold. This had already made a bad impression on Stephanie. However, in her favour, the girl had that 'mother Mary' look about her. Non-distinct and inoffensive.
"Hi, I'm Steph, Chief Brand Officer and Commissioner. How are you?"
Stephanie gripped the girls hand and gave a thoughtless, "good, good," in reply to her answer as she tried to remember her name. She was relieved to find it hadn't escaped her entirely.
"I'm glad you're well Bryony. It's nice to meet you. Please sit down."
This was the part of her job that Stephanie hated the most because she could never bring herself to believe in the archaic tradition of service.
"I won't take up much of your time. I just wanted to say hello and let you know that I'm always around, should you need me."
After years of practice this lie became easier to tell. No one ever complained. Stephanie wasn't unkind, but to be frank, she was glad they didn't.
"I'd also like to wish you the best of luck and to impart some advice."
This last part wasn't part of the official script.
"Don't get any ideas. You're in service. It wouldn't do you any good."
To Stephanie's surprise, Bryony didn't take that the way girls usually did. Actually, Stephanie had no inclination how she took it because the girls face showed no emotion. She either had none or had the greatest poker face ever. Regardless, it didn't matter, she'd be lucky to survive her service for a month.
"This is The Shield."
Lita said, gesturing to the three men that stood formally in a lie in front of Briana. They looked nothing short of formidable. All dressed in black and all appearing to be in the prime of their strength and power. They filled the narrow space which was now to be Briana's home, blocking almost any natural light that seeped in through the tinted windows of the tour bus.
"Mr Rollins," Lita addressed the man that stood in the middle of the trio. He had a blonde streak running through his thick dark hair that made him stand out from his brothers.
"Mr Reigns."
He was on the right of Rollins and was the most impressive of the men. His width and the tattoos that covered the length of his right arm made him all the more imposing.
"Mr Ambrose."
This man seemed to be the most lacking in warmth, not just in his colouring, his hair and skin was fairer than the other men's, but in his entire person.
"This is Briana."
Briana bowed her head respectfully as she had been taught to do, despite not receiving the same curtesy from The Shield.
"You are in their charge now. They will help you settle in and send me weekly reports on your wellbeing. Goodbye."
Briana thought she'd feel relieved to be rid of her miserable escort, but now she was alone with these men she missed her presence. Their eyes bore into her, taking in every inch. It felt like a long time before Rollins broke the oppressive silence.
"I expect you'll want to be shown to your room now."
As it was more like a command and not a question he turned on his heel and Briana followed.
"This will be your home from the road," Rollins said as he opened a door at the top of a tightly bending flight of steps.
He showed Briana into a small, but clean, and practical bedroom. The ensuite was much the same. It was uninspiring, but already much better than the conditions she had become used to back home.
Back downstairs she was shown the kitchen diner, which was at the other end of the bus.
"We don't have any food here at the moment," Rollins said, "as when we're here we tend to eat out. So, if you're hungry you'll have to hold on. But don't worry, now we have another girl, the housekeeper will come by and stock up soon. Feel free to go out and grab something if you want to though."
His eyes wandered to the tag around Briana's ankle which identified her as a service girl and ensured she wouldn't get very far if she ventured outside of this sterile, artificial place. Then he smiled. He had a salesman's type of smile. disingenuous.
On their return to the other half of the bus the welcoming party had disbanded. Reigns was sitting on the dark couch, which filled almost half the length and entire back of the bus. He appeared to be immersed in a TV show. Ambrose had his nose buried in a book. He was wearing rather gawky looking glasses, which were at odds with his austere black attire.
"That's all you need to see," said Rollins, "I'll let you go to your room and make yourself at home, but first let's set some ground rules because I want us all to start off on the same footing."
Reigns and Ambrose adjusted their positions slightly to show they were paying attention.
"You might have heard about some service girls who rule the roost."
Briana had never heard about any such thing happening, but she wasn't going to let on to Rollins that she disagreed.
"But that's not what's going to happen here. We take the tradition of service seriously. We expect you to be obedient. You will abide by your training. We aren't going to get that familiar with one another. If you disappoint us, you will be punished. If you do everything we ask of you, then everything will be just fine. Got it?"
"Yes Sir."
She would strive not to, but judging by the icy stares of all the men, it was going to be hard to not disappoint them.
Dean and Roman went back to relaxing once Seth and the service girl were safely out of earshot.
"What do you think?" Dean said as he slumped onto the couch, pulled his glasses from one of the many pockets on his slacks and picked up his book to continue reading.
"I give her 3 weeks," Roman turned on the TV and began to idly flick through the channels.
"That's not what I asked," Dean said, discarding his place in his book through irritation.
"What does it matter what else I think? They're all the same."
"They're not."
"They are. Seth will break them. He always does."
Dean didn't share Roman's view. He'd seen people in the most impossible positions do the most amazing things. Dean was one of those people. Roman on the other hand had been sheltered and was born into unbelievable privilege. Dean and Romans backgrounds couldn't be more different.
"You never know."
"You always say that."
Roman smiled at Deans optimism, even though he believed it was completely unfounded, it was still infectious.
"Other Superstars service girls last longer. Unfortunately, Seth's an asshole."
"We're all assholes," Roman said, still smiling.
"True. But is it necessary to be so hard on them?"
"Yes. Seth isn't in the wrong. People look to us to uphold morals and order. The right one will come eventually and when she does you won't question the tradition of service anymore, I promise."
This was still a relatively new world to Dean. He hadn't taken to it with the relish that Seth had, he thanked the universe that Roman was here to show him the way.
Once excused to her room Briana allowed herself to take a moment to reflect. She rummaged around in the small bag of belongings she had been permitted to bring with her for her picture of the concubine.
"Please give me courage," she whispered to the crumpled image.
She thought about everything she had endured thus far. The human cattle market she'd had to parade herself in before her placement was even considered. The invasive prodding and inspections of doctors. Stephanie McMahon's vain attempts to be kind, she hadn't even remembered Briana's name correctly. Lita's wall of silence as she delivered her into the hands of The Shield. And finally, the men themselves, The Shield.
"Thank you," Briana kissed the image, the concubine having granted her remembrance of the far worse things she had escaped. Both her and the concubine knew she would survive this.