Disclaimer, etc., in part 1.

Part Fifty-Three

Time moved differently when a person was injured.

The truth was, Eve's career had been short so far. In fact, she'd won the diva search - the final search the WWE'd had - less than two years before. And during that time? Well, she'd been lucky in terms of injuries. That wasn't to say she hadn't gotten beat up when she'd started training, and it wasn't to say that she hadn't come out of matches with bumps and bruises; she had. She'd also suffered a pretty nasty beat-down from Michelle McCool (back when Michelle had first decided to turn full-on bitch) several months before that had given her a few weeks off. But Michelle hadn't used a weapon on her like Maria had, and that attack hadn't caused anything near the damage that Maria and her steel pipe had. And in all her time when kickboxing, self-defense training, juijitsu, and even all the dance classes she'd taken when she was younger, she'd really never suffered much in terms of actual injuries.

Until now.

And, okay, yes, there were other people with far worse injuries than her nasty bruises and cracked ribs, but the point was, those injuries were keeping her out of the ring and stuck at home and had, to some extent, hindered her day-to-day activities (at least at first, when trying to take a deep breath had brought excruciating pain which had made her wonder if the bruised ribs weren't really broken), and well... Eve Torres had never been the type to like to be stuck at home. That wasn't to say she didn't like time to herself or the occasional day of lounging around doing nothing, but that was when it was her choice and not when it was forced upon her as it was right now. And while things had been vastly improved during the few days that CM Punk had been visiting her (though they'd had to experiment a little to find a position they could have some fun in that wasn't going to hurt her ribs), now that he was gone, back on the road for the WWE... It just made things seem all the more lonely. And the fact that he was on the road with the company when she couldn't be? Just made it harder.

And now she was moping.

Shaking her head, Eve got to her feet, making her way toward her bedroom, the diva stopping to look at the full-length standing mirror she had in one corner of her room. She was currently wearing a tank top and shorts, which gave her a good view of her arms and the almost-faded bruises that were there. They'd gone from a deep, dark purple to that nasty healing color that was brown and almost green sometimes and now they were faded to an almost yellow discoloration of her skin. Not exactly attractive, but better than they had been before. A few more days and they'd be gone entirely... And the truth was, right now, they didn't even hurt anymore.

The same couldn't necessarily be said for her ribs.

Frowning, Eve reached down, tugging the hem of her tank top up, exposing her ribs to her inspection, the woman turning so that she could better see her side and back... That's where the worst of her bruises had been, and one thing she hadn't told Punk was that there had originally been concern for more than just bruised, cracked, or broken ribs. The trainers had been worried there might actually be some additional internal damage. After all, she'd been hit with a decent amount of force with a steel pipe. If someone that had the ability to put more force behind her swings than Maria did had come after her? The possibility for other damage may have been a lot more than just a possibility, and the cracked ribs probably would have been out and out broken instead.

"Good thing Maria never wanted to do any strength training," Eve muttered to herself, making a face as she looked at her bruises, then smoothing her shirt back down into place. The thing was, she'd actually tried to get Maria to do a more well-rounded workout in the past, but Maria had declared time and again that being too muscular was 'just gross' and well... Now, Eve was grateful for the other woman's opinion on that, because if she'd taken the time to build up her arm strength, what happened at Night of Champions could have been so much worse. She didn't even really want to think about it... Even if it was hard not to.

With a sigh, Eve stepped back from the mirror, pushing a hand through her hair... Frowning as the sound of her phone ringing - her landline rather than her cell - broke through the silence. Heading over to it, she checked the caller ID, her eyes widening a little when she saw the number that had come up... The number was listed as belonging to World Wrestling Entertainment, which meant it could be anything from the main office to someone that simply was granted use of a company cell phone.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out, scooping up the cordless phone and pressing the button to answer the call. "Hello?"

"May I speak to Eve Torres, please?" a voice she was pretty sure she recognized said on the other end of the line. If she wasn't mistaken, the caller was the SmackDown General Manager.

"This is Eve," she said, frowning slightly as she spoke, the diva wondering why anyone would be calling her...

"I thought that was your voice, but I wasn't sure, so I figured it would be best to ask for ya, just in case. Eve, this is Theodore Long," the man stated, and despite the fact that he couldn't see her, Eve nodded slightly, not surprised by who it was: after all, she'd thought it was him.

"Mr. Long," she acknowledged, not sure what else to say, but that was okay, because the man quickly spoke again, making it obvious he would have interrupted her had she tried to say anything else.

"Please, Eve, we work for a wrestling company. I think it's perfectly fine if you go ahead and call me Teddy," the man told her. "After all, everyone else does. Well, that's the nice thing they call me. I'm sure there's some pretty not-nice things that people call me as well. One of the things that comes with being the General Manager of one of the shows," the man said with a chuckle, and Eve nodded slightly despite the fact that he couldn't exactly see her doing so.

"Okay... Teddy it is, then," she said a bit hesitantly. The truth was, she hadn't dealt with the man too much in her career, despite his position of power. Usually, stagehands told her when she had a match, or she saw it on a match listing. She supposed the last time she'd really spoken to the man at all had been back at the Bash, when Maria had attacked Kelly, and she'd demanded a match against the other woman... And Teddy Long hadn't even hesitated before giving it to her. Granted, he'd scheduled it for SmackDown instead of for that night, but she couldn't really blame him for that. The pay-per-view card had already been full. Probably the only way she would have gotten the match that night instead of waiting until Friday would have been if Kelly's injury had caused a match to get scratched from the card... But it hadn't, because the blonde hadn't been scheduled for the pay-per-view, either.

Clearing her throat, Eve twisted some hair around her fingers, trying to figure out why the SmackDown GM would be calling her. "Um, no offense, Mr. L- Teddy, but... I'm not really sure why it is that you're calling me."

"Oh, of course. You see, Eve, when you had your latest appointment with your doctor to see how you were healin' up, that information was sent on to the WWE," he said, and Eve nodded. She had, of course, signed paperwork to allow that to happen. It was easier having her own doctor check her out and send the information on than it would have been to go to a show just to have the WWE's doctor do the same thing. Despite wanting to get back to the company, there hadn't been any way in the world that she was going to climb on a plane and sit there uncomfortably for hours with her bad ribs and various bruises just to see a doctor when she could more easily go to her own.

"Yes, I'm aware that the records were sent."

"And then they were looked at by our medical staff, trying to figure out when you could come back," the man said, and Eve's grip tightened on the phone in her hand. She desperately wanted to be back by SummerSlam... Despite the fact that Melina didn't really think that was a good idea.

"And? What did they say?" she questioned, the woman practically holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

"Well, just to be safe, it's been decided to keep you out of action until after SummerSlam," he told her, and Eve fought the urge to yell out at that, instead forcing herself to speak calmly.

"Until after SummerSlam? Is that... Is that really necessary?"

"We thought it was a good idea. Especially with you being Jeff Hardy's manager and all. He's got that match with CM Punk and, well... You saw what Punk did to Hardy the other day."

"I did," Eve said stiffly, hoping that Teddy thought her tone was because she was angry over what had happened to Jeff and not because she hated being connected to Jeff Hardy in any way, shape, or form.

"Then I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from. As I'm sure you know, Jeff plans to go forward with that match - luckily he's just really banged up and doesn't have any serious injuries - and I just don't think it would be a good idea for you to be out there. He already has enough to worry about, what with defendin' his title, and it wouldn't be good for him to have to worry about your well-being, either. No offense meant. It's just that those matches are dangerous and, lately, so is CM Punk."

"Of course. Does this mean... Can I even come to SummerSlam?"

"We can't be sure he wouldn't attack you backstage, and I'm sure you wouldn't want Jeff distracted by something like that," Teddy Long said, and Eve had to fight the urge to scream at that, instead forcing herself to stay calm.

"Of course not. But I have to come back at some point. Don't I?"

"Of course you do, Eve! I was thinking the SmackDown after SummerSlam. Give you more time to heal, and Jeff won't have such a dangerous match that night. How's that sound?"

"Does Jeff know about this yet?"

"No, no of course not. Have to talk to you about it first. I figured I'd let you tell him all about it, since you're his manager and all. How does that sound?"

"Just perfect," Eve replied, trying to sound like she was okay with this turn of events, like she wasn't disappointed that she wasn't going to be able to go to SummerSlam at all... and all the while trying to figure out the best way to make an impact when she came back.

With any luck, Jeff Hardy would never see it coming.