Title: I Win (You Lose)

Author: Karen U/revivingophelia

Pairing/Character: Eve Torres/you'll see, the Shield

Disclaimer: No one you recognize belongs to me

Rating: PG-13/T

Summary: Eve's a little manipulative. It works out well for her.

Spoilers: Survivor Series 2012

Warnings: some language, a little innuendo

She led the way through the labyrinth of hallways, fully aware of the men behind her, the woman careful to make sure that none of them were noticed as she slipped into the unused room she'd discovered and decided would be a perfect hiding spot... Well, as perfect a hiding spot as she could find on short notice. She did, after all, only have the afternoon to find one.

"You should be able to stay here until it's time," she said quietly once all the men were in the room, the third and final of the group closing the door carefully behind him. He was the enforcer of the group. Roman Reigns, a big guy that looked like he could cause trouble for someone. She hoped he would cause some trouble for a certain someone tonight. The second man was Seth Rollins, a young man that had been fairly quiet around her, somewhat soft-spoken, but there was still an edge to him. He could be dangerous if he needed to be. The leader of the group, Dean Ambrose, stood in front of her, his gaze intense as he looked at her, but Eve Torres didn't flinch away, didn't avert her eyes, instead looking directly at him, not breaking the eye contact.

"Is everything set up?" he questioned, and she smirked at him.

"What? You think I'm not capable?"

"Oh, I think you're very capable. I also think you're the type to like to play games."

"You want someone that plays games, go make time with AJ Lee. I'm sure she can pencil you in... Maybe all three of you. After this summer, I have to say that multiple guys at the same time seem to be her style," Eve returned, lifting her chin and refusing to look away when Ambrose's eyes flashed in something like annoyance.

"I have no interest in little girls playing at being women."

"I'm sure she'll be so upset. She'll just have to skip over your name on the list and move on to the next guy on the roster. Once she's done with Cena anyway," Eve returned, then tilted her head to the side, looking at each man in turn. "And in case you're curious, any current list of the main WWE roster would now include your names."

Rollins gave her the slightest of smiles. "So you pulled it off."

"Did you doubt me?" she replied, smiling back at him for just an instant before she dragged her attention back to Dean Ambrose, noting the way he was in the process of rolling his eyes. She rolled hers right back at him. She was not going to let him intimidate her. "As of tonight, the three of you are officially on the main roster. I told you I could sneak the paperwork past Booker without him even noticing. He thinks Teddy put it on his desk, and he just... signed off on it. Vickie Guerrero owed me a favor, so... No problems there."

"Do I even want to ask you why Vickie Guerrero owed you a favor?" Ambrose asked, and Eve arched a brow at him.

"Do you think I'd tell you even if you did ask?" she tossed back at him, making her way over to sit on one of the equipment trunks that was in the room. Equipment trunks that wouldn't be needed until it was time to pack up the ring itself, which meant the room was safe to use until the end of the show. The divas' champion was already dressed in her ring gear, since she had a title defense tonight and all, and she was fully aware of the way both Rollins and Reigns looked at her legs as she sat down. Not that she was bothered by it. It wasn't like they were being perves about it or anything.

"Probably not." He gave a slight smirk. "Why do I feel like I made a deal with the devil?" Ambrose wanted to know, and Eve gave him a look.

"Please... If anyone's the devil here, it's got to be you. I got you to the main roster. Paperwork signed and filed. And I barely asked for anything in return. Just one simple little thing. And you can fulfill that so easily... Tonight. Your first night on the main stage. And then you're free of me."

"And all you asked was for us to make sure that Cena doesn't win the title tonight. Any requests on how we take care of that for you?"

"Well, you guys will be the ones dealing out the punishment, so... We'll go with dealer's choice. Attack him before the match... Interfere in the match-"

"What if we cause a disqualification?" Rollins interrupted, and Eve shook her head.

"You won't. Triple threat rules. Someone has to win by pin fall or submission for it to end."

"Any preferences on who wins?" Ambrose wanted to know, and Eve made a face.

"Not really. Although I wouldn't mind seeing CM Punk make it to an official year. He won the title at Survivor Series last year. It would be a shame to see him lose it at Survivor Series this year. And I don't like Ryback. So... If you can manage it... I would like to see CM Punk retain."

"An easy enough request. I have to wonder, though, about this animosity toward John Cena. Why not Zack Ryder?" Ambrose asked, and Eve rolled her eyes, knowing the man was trying to get a reaction from her. The sideways, slightly alarmed look that Rollins gave the man let her know that Seth knew Ambrose was trying to get a rise out of her, too.

Eve smiled easily. "Why would I care about Zack Ryder? When was the last time the guy made any sort of impact? He makes himself enough of a joke. He doesn't need my help on that. I mean, really... When was the last time he did anything memorable?" She waited a few beats, giving them time to answer, and when none of them did, she continued. "Yeah, I can't remember, either. But then there's John Cena. The man with the endless title shots. He never goes to the back of the line when he loses. He just gets another shot at it, no questions asked. He smiles his smile and he salutes the crowd, but the man is a misogynistic pig. If women don't fit in his little box of how they should act, then he attacks them. Verbally, anyway. And he won't just let it go. Not behind the scenes. He gets those digs in whenever he can. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of him. So I want him put in his place. I don't care how. Attack him, distract him, just make sure he loses. He thinks tonight is his night. But it's not. I am going to go out there to defend my title against Kaitlyn, and I'm going to be successful. And John Cena is going to go out there and try to take the title from CM Punk, and he's going to be unsuccessful. I want him to lose tonight. That's all I ask."

"For now, anyway," Ambrose said. "What happens when you decide you want more from us?"

"Who says I will?" Eve tossed back, rising to her feet, making her way over to the door. Reigns had to step aside for her to do so, the man eyeing her for a moment before he moved, the diva arching a brow at him before reaching out for the doorknob, then looking back over her shoulder at the trio of potentially very dangerous men she was helping to unleash on the WWE. No one would ever know that she had a hand in it all. Well, no one that would rat her out , anyway.

She smiled at them all.

"Tonight is your night, gentlemen. Your shot to shock everyone backstage. Everyone in that arena. Your chance to make a mark. You're moving up from NXT to the main roster. A much wider audience. Tonight's your first impression for all the fans that only watch the main shows. I suggest you make the most of it," she told them, and Ambrose met her smile with a smirk of his own.

"Trust me. We will."

Eve nodded at that, then turned to leave, pausing when she heard a voice. Seth's voice. "Good luck tonight. In your match."

"Thank you. But I won't need it. The one who's going to need luck is John Cena. And looking at the three of you... I have to say... I think his luck has just run out."

And with that, she was gone.

And three hours later, as Survivor Series came to a close, Eve was still in possession of the diva's title, CM Punk had the WWE title, and John Cena had not only lost out on another chance, but he'd been the one pinned. He'd been Shell Shocked by Ryback, and it was then that Ambrose, Rollins, and Reigns had attacked, putting Ryback through a table, leaving Punk alone and allowing him to pin Cena for the win. It wasn't exactly what she'd expected them to do, but they had done what she'd asked. They'd made sure that Cena didn't win - though they'd let Ryback be the one to take him out instead of doing it themselves - and they'd made sure that her preferred choice of CM Punk won the match.

All in all, it was a good night.

"It seems to me that we're not quite square yet."

Eve stiffened at the sound of the voice, not sure how he'd managed to sneak up on her. She hadn't even heard Ambrose approach her. "Cena lost. That's all I asked."

"Yeah, but Ryback took him out before we could. We just made sure Punk got the win. Seems to me like we still owe you one Cena beat down," Ambrose said, leaning so close she could actually feel his breath on her neck. "Don't worry, Ms. Torres. We pay our debts. And when we do take Cena down, we'll make it count."

Then he was gone, and Eve was alone in the hallway, thinking about what had transpired tonight, and what Dean Ambrose had just promised her. John Cena was going down. And something told her that with Ambrose, Rollins, and Reigns around, the WWE was never going to be quite the same again. She'd even helped to bring it about.

And as she walked down the hallway, title belt in hand, Eve Torres smiled, the diva waiting until she'd reached the parking garage to pull out her cell phone, hitting the button for the person she wanted to call and bringing the phone to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Nice way to answer the phone. Told you I could pull it off."

"Three guys brought to the main roster under Booker's nose, and a nice little attack that decided the championship match. Not bad."

"Not bad? Please. They still think the main purpose was to make Cena lose, not to make sure you won. I'm awesome, and you know it," Eve retorted, and the man laughed.

"Of course you are."

"Told you I would make sure you kept that title tonight. One whole year. What do you say we have a little celebration?" she asked.

"I think that can be arranged. Any special requests?"

"Oh, not really. Just you, me... A distinct lack of clothing," Eve said, and she could practically hear CM Punk smiling on the other end of the line.

"My favorite kind of party."

"I thought you might feel that way. See you soon."

And with that, Eve hung up the phone and headed to her car, a smile on her face. Her work was done.

For tonight, anyway.

Now it was time to play.

The End

***This story totally went in a direction I didn't plan. CM Punk was not supposed to be in this one. It just sort of... happened.