"AMBROSE!" The shout that startled everyone in the locker room. "WHERE IS HE!? WHERE'S AMBROSE!" No one was talking, they all stayed in place as if they stayed quiet and didn't move then Baron would go away. They were wrong.

"WHERE IS HE!?"

"You-you check his locker room, dog?" One of the Usos stuttered, trying to stand whatever ground he thought he had. He thought wrong.

After a firm 'Don't call me dog' and a glare to the rest, he left. Practically stalking down the halls, eyes reading every label the doors had. Stopping at the name he shouted for the past hour. The door wasn't even locked. The sounds of a running faucet filled the room. Dean was in the shower.

"Big mistake." He looked around, seeing if the deranged man was hiding. Eyes darting everywhere, anywhere that could be used as a place to hide. Knowing Ambrose, he could hide anywhere. Squatting behind some plants, behind the sofa, hell, he probably wasn't even in the shower. There would be no surprise when Baron was to pull back the curtains to see nothing but running water. Only to be tackled from behind then beat down by that little bastard.

"I found you, Dean." He announced, only inches away from the man. The plastic curtain being the only thing separating them. Or how Baron saw it, the only thing keeping Baron's fist from Dean's teeth.

"C-...Corbin!?" He didn't sound surprised, just alarmed. Calling for the larger man as if he was miles away, let alone less than a foot from where he stood. "What the fuck!? Get out!" His command didn't even wait for his question to settle, although 'What the Fuck' was never really used as a question, more as an outburst. Either way, this was about to become a deadly flare-up.

"I FOUND YOU!"

The blonde's demands were ignored, as the curtain of plastic was ripped away just like the orders falling on Baron's temporally deaf ears. He was ready. It wouldn't be too surprising to learn that Dean probably fought naked before.

He didn't fight.

The Lunatic Fringe. The Dude. The actual Dean Ambrose wasn't fighting. Didn't have his fist up. Didn't throw a punch, kick, nothing. Instead, he ducked down, his arms crossed, covering his chest for dear life. Trying to look up without water pouring down on his face.

Baron took a closer look.

"Get out! Get out of here!" His whole body was...different. His torso was smaller, less masculine than compared to when in the ring. His hips wider, his arms somewhat muscular but they were no gun show. But his chest stood out the most.

"Nice rack." Sure, it sounds sarcastic but he actually meant it. Dean already had a great ass, now he had a nice, tight, borderline feminine body to go with it. "I always knew you were a little sissy boy but I never thought you had the body to go with it."

"GET! OUT!"

Shouts being hurled like the bottles of shampoo and conditioner. One, in particular, was chucked right at Baron's face. Supposedly something suave, anything to make Dean 'manly' but nothing could make that masculine. He was the farthest from any man. In the eyes of the LoneWolf, this wasn't a man.

This was a little girl.

Pulling Dean up by his arms, not caring if he got splashed, his eyes unable to look away from the vivacious breasts. "This is what happens when little girls mess with real men! Not the little boy toys! Not those pussies that are too scared to tell you how they feel! And certainly, not those macho assholes that pretend to have a big cock." He didn't know what was coming over him. It was like they were hypnotizing him. Calling out Baron to play with them. They were glistening from the water, droplets running over the pink nubs, bouncing each time Dean was pulled closer.

"Oh, yeah?! Like yours?!" Their eyes met, anger laced with embarrassment coming face to face with spite and a glimmer of sadism. "Keep that little pink dick away from me or I just might think you're offering me a cigarette!"

"I didn't know you could choke on smokes."

"Yeah, you're right. It's probably more like a gherkin or a maggot." He was asking for it. Asking to be taught a lesson. Asking to be put in his place. Asking to be corrected. "Never see any bulge and you wear skinny jeans more than any chick I know!"

"Little girls don't talk like that." It was the first warning. The first caution. Alerting there was trouble to come if such insubordinate behavior continued.

"Let me go, Corbin! Get off me! Let me go now!" His rants proceeded to fall on deaf ears. A punishment was in order and Baron would be the one to execute. "Corbin, I swear to God-...!"

"I said little girls don't talk to men like that!" Practically throwing him on the couch, the small body was now trapped. Trapped under the two hundred and seventy-five frame. His hands held above his head, his chest exposed more than ever now. "Your nips are hard, they don't lie." He was no string bean like Sasha or Bliss. Dean was thick. So firm but soft at the same time. "Maybe I should go out and show you off to all the guys? Maybe they wanna see your titties too? Huh?"

"Please...! Anything but that!" By now, whenever it came to secrets in danger of being released, the phrase: "I'll do anything!" or just the mere word 'anything' had no business being brought up. It shouldn't be thought of, let alone spoken! "Baron, please!"

Baron wasn't forcing. The second Dean were to say 'no' or 'get off me' that was his cue to leave...then find another way to get back at the blonde. "Anything?" He repeated the most taboo word ever to be used when involved in a mess like this.

"Please don't tell..."

"Answer me!"

"Yes! Anything! Anything you want!" There was silence. Not an awkward silence, a silence that was victorious. Knowing that Baron won the war between them. Leaving the arena tonight that he had the upper hand. Knowing full well that he won the battle.

"Get on your knees."

"...You're lucky I'm going to RAW, you sombitch!"

"Then remind me to buy a lot of ringside seats every Monday."