Mike 'The Miz' Mizanin prided himself on his style, his performance and his way with the ladies. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. It was that simple. Checking his hair in the mirror he smiled at his reflection. Perfection.

But there was one woman on the roster that refused to believe that. In fact Maryse didn't see anything remarkable about him at all. He was all talk and very little action in her eyes. Passing the catering area on the way to her match she saw him talking to a group of NXT trainees. That guy was always talking. She'd never seen him with his mouth closed. Rolling her eyes she headed to the gorilla position.

Mike considered himself a veteran of the reality TV circuit. He knew how to optimise air-time and ensure he was the centre of every scene. Seeing the NXT wrestlers he couldn't help but impart his knowledge.

"Boys, gather around, I'm about to drop some knowledge." He announced earning himself more than a few eye rolls. They were just jealous.

The Rookies reluctantly approached him already regretting their decision to comply with his request.

"I know you've all been eager to know but too shy to ask so I'll go ahead and share my secrets for reality TV success." He said smiling. "Rule number one, be awesome. Not everyone can be born with awesomitude like me, so you need to fake it until you make it."

He looked over the group he was preaching to. Some were staring at their shoes, others were looking elsewhere and the eyes of the remaining had glazed over. He must have intimidated them with his greatness. He always forgot, not everyone could handle so much perfection in one person.

"Rule number two," He continued, "Don't be afraid to admit you're the coolest. People might have you believe wrestling is about winning matches and championships. It's actually about showing people how much better than them you are. They won't know until you show them, so really you're doing them a favour."

Hearing a dismissive scoff he turned to see Maryse pass them. She was a babe. But what she had in looks she lost on personality. He'd never met a more stuck up or proud Diva in his life. She seemed to think her novelty championship actually meant something. He'd asked her out a few times but she just looked at him incredulously each time. She must not have understood him. Foreign chicks were a bit slow in his opinion. Despite this he was determined to get a date with her. He'd be the first guy on the roster and true to his advice, he needed to set the example.

"The third and final rule is simple," He said still watching the blonde Diva, "Always go after the best. I'd elaborate on that but the best just walked out for her match and I'm going to get a date with her."

Catching up to Maryse Mike easily fell into step with her as she continued to the Gorilla Position.

"Hello Beautiful."

"Mike." She replied curtly.

"Heading to your match." He said gesturing to the stage. He had to make sure to speak slowly and loudly for her. She was foreign after all.

"As you see." She said simply nudging the title on her shoulder. She hated talking to him. He seemed to think she was retarded. She'd grown up speaking both English and French though if she told him it might encourage him to speak to her more. She shuddered at the thought.

"You know I was once the WWE Champion." He said casting her a smug smile.

"That's nice." She responded finally reaching the Gorilla Position. Her music would play any minute and then she could ditch this loser. Two minutes later he was still babbling when she heard the familiar tune.

"Let's continue this conversation over…" He began before she walked out onto the stage. She didn't even look back at him. Strange girl. Hardly anyone ever left him without a second glance.


Later that night Mike was fuming. He'd just lost his match against John Cena. This was the third match in a row. What was wrong with him? He was on top of his game, training regularly, bedding beautiful ladies and paying his dues. What was he missing? Then it hit him. It was the fans. He knew he was awesome, they knew Cena sucked. So why didn't they chant his name? He was still contemplating his dilemma when he heard a familiar laugh. Then it hit him. He needed a cheerleader, someone to motivate. And who better to cheer for him than the French-Canadian bombshell walking towards the Diva's tour bus. Running past her he positioned in front of the arena doors.

"Do you mind?" Marsye asked trying to move past him.

"What's the rush Ma Cherie?" He asked butchering the pronunciation.

Maryse cringed. "What do you want?"

"I'm willing to offer you the career chance of a lifetime." He said, "After extensive thought I've granted you the honour of being my valet."

"Excuse me? Why would I disgrace myself by being associated with you?" She scoffed.

"Disgrace? Do you know who you're talking to? I'm a former WWE Champion." He growled. Beautiful or not she needed to recognise the Superstar in front of her.

"But what have you done lately? Lose a bunch of matches to John Cena."

Mike scowled. "Oh like your career's any better."

"Actually it is. I'm the Diva's Champion. I'm at the top of my division. While you sit at the bottom." She said proudly.

"Oh you're head barbie, big deal. You bimbo's don't even have to wrestle. You just get out there and tumble around like lost kittens and your job's done. That title doesn't mean anything." He shouted. She had struck a nerve.

"Can't wrestle? Do I need to put you in my submission hold? I earned my title through hard work. I didn't whine about it, I went out there and won it!" Maryse shouted back.

A smirk crept to Mike's lips, "You can put me in whichever hold you like, just as soon as you agree to be my valet."

"You're a talentless creep," She fumed, "Any Diva in the locker room could out wrestle you."

"You're beautiful, but you're also delusional Princess." And just to prove it he had a plan. "I have a wager for you."

"I'm not interested." She replied with a roll of her blue eyes.

"Why? Are you chicken?" He said licking his lips, "Because I'm a chick magnet."

"God help me," She muttered, "What's your wager?"

"We each have matches at Night of Champions, right? Well whoever loses their match has to be the valet of the winner for one month." He smiled. Proud of himself for coming up with such an original plan. One week of travelling and cheering for him and she'd have to fall in love with him. He loved being sneaky.

"That's quite a plan, but what if we both win? What happens then Stupid?" She asked in a sickly sweet voice.

Mike paused for a minute, he opened his mouth to speak but his brain wasn't working fast enough to catch up.

"Well am I going to stare at you looking like a fish all night or do you have an answer?" Maryse snapped.

"Then it's a matter of sudden death. We keep competing until one of us loses." He replied quickly. He loved it when she got angry. Her accent became thicker and her eyes would turn a stormy grey.

"That's quite a plan, but I'm not interested." She smiled putting her hand on his chest to push him away.

"Because you know you'll lose. You're just a glorified model. I've seen you in the ring, you can't wrestle. You know two moves and a submission hold." He hissed holding the hand on his chest. "Spending a month with me would give you more credibility than holding the Diva's title for a year."

Maryse growled. She hated her modelling past being brought up as a reason against her wrestling ability. She was trained by the best, she showed that every night in the ring. Letting her anger get the better of her she leaned in close to make sure he heard her clearly.

"I accept your bet Crapaud." She said. Her blue eyes burning into his.

"Then let's seal it in the way of your countrymen." Mike replied pulling her into a searing kiss. His lips commandeered hers with an authority she'd never felt before. Feeling the blonde responding to him he smiled pulling away, leaving her wanting more.

Maryse was breathless yet glaring at him deeply. Mike however shot her a satisfied smile before pushing the door behind him and disappearing into the parking lot.

No one messes with the Guru of Greatness.