Disclaimer, etc, in part 1.

Thanks to everyone still reading this one. :)

Part Twenty-Four

As the show came to a close that night, Eve made her way over to where her things were, the diva reaching for her championship belt, but not really surprised when someone else beat her to picking up her bag. She was, surprised, however, when she straightened up to see that it wasn't Roman that had grabbed her things... This time around, it was Seth Rollins, the man giving her a slight smile as he tugged the strap of her bag up onto his shoulder.

"I'll walk you out to your car, make sure you get out of here okay," the man told her, and Eve nodded, the two of them starting to head toward the door... Both of them stopping when another voice chimed in.

"Wait a minute. Why don't I walk Eve out this time?" Dean Ambrose said, the man pushing himself to his feet as he spoke. Making his way over to them, he held his hand out for Eve's bag, looking Seth in the eye. "You're the one that pinned Ziggler tonight. Odds are, he and his buddies aren't too happy about it. Probably safer for me to walk her," the wrestler said, and while what he said wasn't untrue... He was leaving out the fact that Ziggler, AJ, and Langston probably weren't happy with any of them... Including him. For some reason, Ambrose wanted to be the one to walk Eve to her car, and he didn't want anyone arguing with him about it.

Seth gave a slight nod, handing over Eve's bag, shooting a quick look at the diva before stepping back. Ambrose took the bag easily, pulling the strap up onto his own shoulder, then heading for the door. Pulling it open, he looked back at Eve, arching a brow at her, and the woman took a deep breath before heading out into the hallway, extremely aware of Ambrose walking beside her. She had no idea why it was that he had decided he wanted to be the one to walk her to her car, but Eve figured there had to be a purpose behind it. Dean Ambrose seemed like the type of person to have a purpose behind just about everything he did. Even so, he kept quiet as they walked, the man winding his way through the halls of the arena and heading toward the parking garage, pushing the door open and holding it for her as they got there... Then stepping forward, taking hold of her arm and tugging her to a stop.

"There's something we need to talk about," he said, his voice low, and Eve turned to look at him, a little unsettled by how close he was standing to her. The man's gaze searched her face, almost looking like he was trying to figure her out, and Eve frowned a bit at that.

"What is it?" she wanted to know, and he shrugged, shifting his grip on her bag as he stood there looking at her. Stepping back a few feet, out of the direct line of traffic for leaving the arena, he gestured for her to come as well, and she did so, her frown deepening slightly when Ambrose reached out, resting a hand on her hip. Her first instinct was to take an automatic step back, but a part of her thought it was something of a test - and why did she always feel like he was somehow testing her? - so Eve stayed exactly where she was, adjusting her grip on her title belt as she looked at him.

Ambrose tilted his head to the side, his eyes on hers. "You had an out, and you didn't take it," he said, and Eve frowned at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I think we both know you didn't want to manage the Shield. I remember the look on your face during our first conversation the night it was announced. You wanted to be anywhere but in that room with us," the wrestler said, giving her a look that dared her to disagree, but Eve knew better than to do that, because they both knew he was right. When he'd pulled her into that room ten days ago, she'd wanted nothing more than to push past him and to make a run for it.

"And your point?"

"My point is, Teddy Long was trying to take you from us and not once, but apparently twice, you argued to stay with us. Why is that? You had an easy out. When Booker T asked Roman to leave the room, you could have easily said that you wanted a switch, then told us that he wouldn't listen to you and made the switch against your wishes. We would have been none the wiser. So why didn't you?" he wanted to know, and Eve arched a brow as she looked at him.

"Nice to know what you think of me."

"That's not-"

"Is it what you would have preferred?"

"I never said that. I'm just curious as to why you didn't jump at the chance to get rid of us."

"Because so far, none of you have done anything wrong. Not to me. And I know that if Teddy Long had it to do over again, he would make damn sure that he got it right this time. He wouldn't put me with someone he just *thought* would treat me badly. He would make sure it was someone he *knew* would treat me badly. Maybe John Cena... Or maybe even Zack Ryder."

"I thought his argument for sticking you all with people to manage was to get you more television time, not less. You have more television time in a week than Ryder has in a month."

"I never said that Teddy Long was a smart villain. And he'd probably find a way to argue for it, even if it made no sense-"

"Well, look who it is. The hoeski. She must be really good on her knees, what with how all three of you are being so nice to her all of a sudden," a new voice said, one that Eve recognized instantly because it was one that made her cringe whenever she heard it. Shaking her head, she started to turn to glare at the man, but ended up stumbling back a couple of steps when someone - obviously Ambrose - rushed past her and grabbed hold of Zack, his hand on the other man's throat as he pushed him back against one of the equipment trucks that was parked close to the door.

"What the fuck did you say?" he demanded, then slammed Zack against the truck again. "I'm asking you a question."

Zack Ryder, apparently not smart enough to realize talking trash to her in front of a member of the Shield was a bad idea, was at least smart enough to look scared now that Ambrose was holding him by his throat against the truck. "I didn't mean-"

"The fuck you didn't. Eve is our manager. She is a member of the Shield, and we protect our own. We won't put up with your shit. You bad-mouth her, then you pay. I'm pretty sure we all know that you only run your mouth about her morals because you want people to believe that maybe you got some action, when we all know she wouldn't actually touch you with a ten foot pole. Well, not unless it was to hit you with it until you went away. I may not have been on the main roster then, but I have eyes, and I saw the shows. She just wasn't into you. Never was. And you couldn't handle it... So when you came around calling her names, she played you and made you pay. But here you are, still calling her names. And now she has someone else to help her make you pay. So here's the deal. Monday night. RAW. Me against you. One-on-one. And if you don't come out there for the match, I'll find you backstage and drag you out. Now get the hell out of here," Ambrose said, slamming Zack one more time before grabbing hold of the man's shirt and practically tossing him out of the way. Squaring his shoulders, he looked over at Eve, who had watched the whole exchange with wide eyes. "Where's your car?"

She pointed. "Over there."

"Then let's get you to it," the man said, walking in that direction, helping Eve load her things into her vehicle, making sure she got inside before stepping back to go. "I'll see you at the live event tomorrow. Seth will meet you in the parking garage."

"I'll be there," the diva said quietly, watching as Dean turned and walked away, Eve trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.