The day of survivor series, the three came and went as planned. They were successful at incapacitating Ryback, and thusly, Punk won. Ambrose looked up at the titantron with a look of pure love as Punk's music hit. Reigns caught this look, but Rollins missed it. Reigns smirked, and thought, Old Ambrose has a man- crush, huh? Well.
When they returned to their trailer, Reigns and Rollins jogged to the back quickly, and Reigns patted Ambrose on the back, and whispered "we'll talk later."
A few hours later, Reigns had pounded Rollins into the mattress soundly, and came bounding out of the room in his boxers, seemingly full of energy. He turned to Ambrose and sat down, grinning. "Sooo, How long?" he asked with a grin. Ambrose looked at him with confusion. "How long what?"
"How long have you been head over heels for a certain head heel? How long have you been praying to bend the Straightedge? How long have you wanted to have the second city saint be a demon with you?" Reigns wriggled his eyebrows and grinned, happy to see the blush creeping across Ambrose's face. "Almost a year."
"Let me guess. The FCW Match."
Ambrose looked at Reigns and fidgeted awkwardly. "Yeah."
"You looked so happy afterward, I thought you'd won the lottery."
"When he said 'Support this place because the first Dean Ambrose is in the back' I felt I had. Him saying my name was enough to make me want to turn cartwheels, but him saying they should support the place for my sake just…Wow. " Ambrose gushed, grinning widely.
"You do know we are going to have to powerbomb some more people to keep things interesting, right?"
"Yeah. Long as it's not Punk, Rollins can pick."