Monday 4th Febuary
''Good work, guys. It sounds great.'' Arn Anderson gave the pair in front of him a quick nod of approval before rising from his chair. ''Lex, make sure you get the line in about the wolf and the pack.''
Alexa nodded as she paced around the small locker room, stretching her arms over her head. ''Got it, boss.''
As soon as he had left the room she dropped back into the soft, leather sofa beside John, smacking herself on her forehead with that night's script. ''This is way too much for my brain to handle...''
Raw that evening was being held at the Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia. The pair had just spent the last hour going through the lines for their promo later in the show, along with the producer, the legendary Arn Anderson. Alexa had only worked with him a handful of times and still found herself slightly in awe of the man, which probably explained why she kept fluffing her lines.
The Boston native chuckled, giving her a reassuring pat on the back. ''You want to go over it again? I don't mind.''
She shot him a thankful smile, but shook her head. ''I appreciate the offer, but I have to find Mike, Vickie and Paul to go over my segment with them. Then I need to go to hair and make-up before I film my segment with Phil. Oh, and then I have to try to find the elusive Lesnar to see if he has time to practice the F-5 with me...''
''Well, I know for a fact that Brock usually gets here pretty late, so I doubt you'll have time to go over the move-''
She groaned. ''Motherfuck-''
''But-'' He cut her off. ''I have a bit of time now, if you want to practice it with me before you head off to find Vickie and the guys?''
''You'd do that?''
''Of course.'' He looked mildly offended. ''We're friends, right? Besides, I still owe you for teaching me how to do a hurracanrana.''
''You have no idea how much I regret that...''
''What? I think I do alright!''
''John, I hate to say this.'' She gave him a patronizing smirk. ''But it kind of looks like you're trying to powerbomb yourself... you could rename it the self-bomb?''
He narrowed his eyes, giving her a half-hearted glare. ''You want my help or not?''
She plastered an innocent look on her face, holding up her hands apologetically. ''Sorry, sorry... I won't mention your dropkicks then...''
''You!''
Sierra glanced up from the January issue of WWE Magazine she was reading, her violet eyes rolling when they fell on the figure in front of her.
''Oh, hey, Punk.''
''Hey- Hey, Punk... that's all you have to say to me? Really?''
Shrugging, the woman dropped her gaze back down to the magazine. ''What do you want me to say?''
He leaned forward, grabbing the paper from her hands and throwing it over his shoulder.
''Well, that was rud-''
''I want you to explain to me, exactly why you've been having The Shield interfere in my matches.'' He demanded.
She pushed herself up from the chair with a huff, looking him dead in the eyes. ''Were you not listening last week?''
The man snorted. ''All I heard last week was you complaining... you almost cost Paul his job! Do you have any idea how selfish you've been?''
''Selfish?'' She arched a brow, staring back at him in disbelief. ''You're so self-involved, you can't even see what I'm doing with The Shield, can you? It's people like you, that we're fighting to get justice for. You seriously have the nerve to call me selfish, when I had The Shield help you-''
''I NEVER asked for your help!'' He bellowed angrily. ''You're just dragging me and Paul down with you, you should be ashamed of yourself.''
''The only thing I'm ashamed of right now, is that I ever wanted anything to do with you.'' She hissed venomously, stepping closer to him with a sneer. ''Maybe if you were half the man you said you were... you wouldn't have needed my help.''
His eyes flashed dangerously as he stared down at her, making to move forward but thinking better of it. ''We're done. Whatever this was, it's done.'' He breathed in heavily and took a step back. ''Keep me, and Paul out of your stupid crusade. And keep your dogs out of my match at Elimination Chamber.''
''Fine by me.''
Punk gave the woman one last venemous glare before storming from the room.
''And cut! That was great, guys.''
The director of their segment wandered away to re-watch the footage, leaving Phil and Alexa alone in the small locker room, surrounded by an awkward silence.
''Look-''
She spoke across him firmly. ''Unless the next sentence out of your mouth is, 'I'm sorry, I was out of line,' then I don't want to hear it.''
Phil let out a heavy sigh. ''I'm not going to apologize for what I did, but I am sorry if it upset you.''
''But seriously, going to Vince? What the fuck, Phil?'' She questioned. ''You're supposed to be my friend, one of my best friends, why-''
''I was just looking out for you!''
''By going to my boss and making me out to be some kind of damsel in distress? You demeaned all the hard work I've done to get here, how can you not see that?'' Her eyes shone with unbridled anger. ''Do you not trust me to know what I'm doing?''
''Of course I do!'' He protested. ''I just... I'm sorry for going to Vince, alright? I shouldn't have done that, but you need to realize that you're not invincible. Do you want another broken neck?''
''I had more chance of breaking my neck in that ladder match, than I do getting in the ring with Brock.'' She told him firmly. ''I'm damn good at what I do, I can land a move without hurting myself."
''You think I don't know that? I've seen your matches, remember, some of the best I've seen from anyone.''
She tilted her head to the side, desperately trying to read the expression on his face. ''So, what's the real problem here?''
Phil opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut, his eyes falling down to the floor as he backed away from her. ''Nothing.''
''Phil, what...'' She trailed off, letting out a sigh as she watched him walk away.
Something was going on with him, and she was determined to find out what it was.
RAW
''So, still to come, later tonight will be another episode of MizTv.'' Michael Cole informed the people at home. ''And he will be joined by Paul Heyman.''
King snorted. ''Should make for interesting viewing.''
''Indeed.'' He agreed. ''But, right now, we have Brad Maddox in the ring.''
The man in question was gesturing wildly for a microphone, which he quickly lifted to his lips.
''Last week, as all of you know, Vince McMahon exposed the truth; that I was manipulated by Paul Heyman to help him at Hell in a Cell! Paul Heyman preyed on me because he knew that I was an honest, hard-working, up-and-coming, Superstar! Just trying to make a name for myself and now all of you know the truth.'' He paused, smirking as he looked around at the faces in the crowd. ''And, you know what? I'm glad that it's all out there. I am an innocent victim. I am innocent. I am a wronged man. And, you know what, I did the only thing that I could do, I did the right thing when I gave Vince the footage that proved that Paul Heyman was lying about me and lying about The Shield's involvement with CM Punk! So, in a very real way, I am the hero. I am the hero of the story. And, as your hero, it's going to be me and NOT John Cena... who's going to teach The Shield about justice.''
'BRRRRRRRRRR... YABIDOOOOOOOOO!'
Inside the ring, Brad gave a heavy eye roll as the leader of the Cenation made his way down to the ring; the reaction from the crowd divided, as usual.
''I literally just said that I was going to be the one-''
''You've had your five minutes of fame, Maddox, time's up.'' John cut across him. ''Beat it.''
Brad's protests died on his lips when he saw the serious look in the other man's eyes. Letting the microphone drop from his hand, he slipped out of the ring with a dejected expression.
''Now, before I head to Wrestlemania and, again, become the WWE Champion... there is one thing that I have to do. Put a stop to The Shield. As they say, 'behind every great man, stands a great woman,' So, Sierra, why don't you come on down here so we can talk about this?''
''Think she's going to come out here?'' King asked curiously.
''Well, if she has any sense, then no, she-''
Sierra's music blasted through the arena, effectively cutting the man off. The reaction she garnered from the WWE Universe was just as mixed as John's had been, although you could hear a lot more boos.
She sauntered out onto the ramp, microphone in hand as she stared down at the ring. ''What do you want, Cena?''
''What I want, is to know why your little pack of dogs attacked me last week?'' He bellowed. ''Later in the show, we all know you were revealed to be in cahoots with them; vowing to save the WWE from, what you perceive, as injustice. I work my ass off for this company and I earned my title shot. So, tell me, how were The Shield justified in what they did to me last week?''
His words invoked a heavy round of cheers from the crowd, but Sierra just cocked a brow, a smirk pulling at her lips.
''Maybe the beating you took somehow damaged your hearing, because you obviously weren't listening to me last week. You said, just now, that 'behind every great man, stands a great woman'... but you've got it all wrong, John. I'm not BEHIND them. I'm BESIDE them. I don't tell The Shield what to do, we're a team. At the beginning, at Survivor Series, I might have made a few suggestions but I've never controlled them in the way you assume. But, to answer your question, why the hell do you think I would care about you and your title shot? I've got my own problems to deal with, like, for example, the fact that I was almost attacked by Brock Lesnar last week! I've got bigger things to worry about than John Cena.''
John narrowed his eyes at the woman. ''Well, that was your own damn fault. You knew Heyman had Lesnar at his disposal, yet you still tried to let him take the fall for your actions. And maybe calling him a 'little bitch' wasn't the way to go, I used to tell you that your mouth was going to get you in trouble one day. Looks like that day has finally arrived...''
''You know what, you're right. My mouth does run away with me sometimes, but, it doesn't change the fact that Brock Lesnar IS a little bitch, just like you! You deserved that beating last week, but I can't really take any credit for it. The Shield acted alone in that one. I don't think they're your biggest fans. Much like me, John, your mouth has a mind of its own. You shouldn't have called me out here tonight. You want to know why? Because, John, if you call one wold... you invite the pack!''
SIERRA. HOTEL. INDIA. ECHO. LIMA. DELTA.
SHIELD.
Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and Roman Reigns emerged through the crowd, all three men stalking down the steps toward the ring. John tossed the microphone aside and turned to face the oncoming men, crouching down into a defensive position as they jumped the barricade.
The Shield surrounded the ring, the trio just staring at the man inside as Sierra watched from her position on the stage.
Before any of them could make a move to enter, Ryback's music hit the arena.
Sierra turned around, expecting to find the hulking figure emerge from the back, but found nobody. The three men around the ring had all turned towards the ramp too, expecting the same thing.
They eventually located Ryback, the man making his way down through the crowd just as they had a few minutes before.
Then, Sheamus' theme struck; the Irish man running down through the stands too.
''And The Shield, getting a bit of their own medicine, tonight!'' Michael Cole cried. ''Cena and company-''
King interrupted. ''Look, look, look! Look at The Shield!''
The crowd was roaring as The Shield panicked; the three men converging at the bottom of the ramp before making the hasty decision to retreat.
''And The Shield heading for higher ground!''
Surrounded by the heavy boos of the crowd, the three men started to head up the ramp. They hadn't covered much ground when suddenly, they came to a standstill, and cheers soon flooded the arena.
''Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute!''
The Shield had found themselves blocked by a wall of angry Superstars who had been led from the backstage area by Randy Orton. Sierra had pressed herself up against the set at the back of the stage, watching on anxiously.
''The WWE locker room blocking the path of The Shield!'' King laughed. ''They have nowhere to run!''
''It's time for justice, Cena style!''
John, Sheamus and Ryback were laying in wait as the three men slid into the ring, chaos soon erupting as the six men came to blows.
''Boy, how long have we been waiting for this!'' King exclaimed.
''It's been a long time coming!''
Cena, Ryback and Sheamus soon gained the upper hand and The Shield had no choice but to retreat. The three men hurridly exited the ring, hopped the barricade and bolted up the arena steps.
''And Cena, Ryback, Sheamus all standing tall! But, make no doubt about it, The Shield will regroup...''
''You sure you're okay with this?''
Alexa shot the big man a reassuring smile. ''Totally okay with it.''
Brock still looked unsure but nodded, his gaze returning to the monitor in front of them.
The pair was standing in gorilla, watching as the final segment of the night started to unfold. MizTv had been due to be in the middle of the show but Vince, after having a last-minute shuffle of the script, had decided to put them on last.
''And don't take it easy on me, either.''
He cocked an eyebrow before letting out a small chuckle. ''You got it, kid.''
Despite only having met 'The Beast' the week before, Alexa found herself oddly at ease around him. After being introduced to him by Paul, she soon discovered that his intimidating appearance had no bearing on his personality whatsoever. He had been nothing but polite and respectful when they spoke, completely destroying all of her misconceptions about him.
''Torres, you're up!''
''Let me spell this out, so that even YOU can understand... I did not know that Brock Lesnar was in Las Vegas. I did not know that Brock Lesnar was going to attack Vince McMahon. I did not order Brock Lesnar to attack Vince McMahon. I'm sorry that it happened, but it did. And maybe, just maybe Mr. Mizanin, if you would stop being so obsessed with MizTv and just look at the footage, you would see that I tried to stop Brock Lesnar. I tried to back Brock Lesnar down! I even tried to stop him attacking Sierra.'' His voice softened towards the end of his speech, imploring people to believe his version of events.
Miz cocked his head to the side, smirking over at the man. ''That's funny, because I blatantly saw a tape where you paid off Brad Maddox, Sierra and The so CM Punk could keep his WWE Championship. What I also saw, what we all saw, was Mr. McMahon going to fire you and Sierra for it! You know, I have to admit, Paul, I admire you. You might be the most committed liar I have ever met in my entire life.''
The crowd was silent as the two men stared each other down.
''How dare you. How dare you invite me on to your show, and try to make yourself look good at my expense? You have all these questions for me about The Shield, and you have all these questions for me about Brad Maddox... okay, I have questions too, you know. I'd like to know, don't you agree that CM Punk was screwed out of the WWE Championship? Don't you agree that CM Punk, not The Rock, should be the WWE Champion? Don't you agree that Vince McMahon screwed CM Punk out of the WWE Championship? Don't you agree that in thirteen days, CM Punk is going to mop the floor and beat The Rock, and continue celebrating four hundred and fifty-five days as your reigning, defending WWE Champion?!''
Miz stepped forward, glaring at the man. ''Paul! You are changing the subject!''
Paul nodded, running a hand over his face before stepping closer to him and stating firmly; ''I will answer every single one of your questions, just as soon as you answer mine.''
''Paul...'' The Miz spoke steadily into the microphone. ''You're crowding me.''
''I'm 'crowding' you?''
''You are. And I suggest you take a step back.''
''EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME!''
The two men stepped apart as Vickie Guerrero made her way down the ramp to heavy boos; Paul dropping his head in exasperation, while Miz watched on curiously.
''Gentlemen, this bickering has to stop!'' She demanded, climbing into the ring and moving over to the pair. Her hand gestured to Paul as she looked over to The Miz. ''Paul Heyman, is telling the truth. Paul Heyman had nothing to do with Brock Lesnar returning last week... I did!''
Paul's head snapped towards the woman, surprised at her admission and that she was out there defending him. The other man just rose a brow, not looking convinced in the slightest.
''I was negotiating with Brock for a while and I kept it quiet because I knew that Brock's track record, has been known to be controversial. However, I recognized that Brock, an elite free-agent and was available... and by seizing this opportunity, re-signing Brock, was a chance for me to impress Mr. McMahon. So that he would promote me to be permanent General Manager of Raw. So, last week at Raw, Brock and I finalized our deal. Paul Heyman and I had no idea that Brock would try to attack Sierra! Or do what he did to Mr. McMahon! I- I feel terrible and I- I feel awful. What hap- what happened to Mr. McMahon, I'm so sorry!''
The woman broke off into tearful sobs and Paul reached out an arm, pulling her towards him and letting her cry against his chest. The crowd booed and Miz gave a big eye roll as he watched the pair.
''You two are lying through your teeth. I don't understand why you wanted Brock to attack Sierra, but here's what I do know; Paul, you've hated Mr. McMahon ever since he crushed your little company. And Vickie, how many times have we watched Mr. McMahon dangle the carrot of permanent GM, only to rip it away, time and time again. Now, you people expect us to believe that you're not popping the champagne bottle and-'''
Vickie shoved Paul aside, stepping towards the younger man. ''How dare you-''
''Vickie, I've got this.'' Paul interrupted, moving to face The Miz, spitting angrily. ''Now you're offending me!''
''I don't care! You two are bottom feeders! You live and feed off the success and misery of others.''
''May I remind you that I am your boss!'' Vickie screamed indignantly, making Paul laugh from beside her.
''For how long, Vickie? After Mr. McMahon recuperates, it's only a matter of time before he fires you.'' He turned to Paul with a smirk. ''The same way he's going to finish what he started last week and fire you! And, hey, he'll probably fire Sierra too. You know, since she's the one who-''
She takes to the spotlight
To the stage
You can tell she craves it by the look on her face
Everyone can't help but stare away
A scowl was plastered on Sierra's face as she stalked down the ramp, microphone already in hand. She had a diverse reaction from the crowd; half of them were cheering and half were booing as she stepped into the ring.
''Well, well, well...'' Miz drawled as she stepped towards them. ''Look what the cat dragged in...Or, should I say, dogs. Where is your little pack? Oh, that's right, they finally got what was coming to them and ran away with their tails between their legs.''
''Miz... the English language lacks the requisite words to express how much I dislike you. But, I'm not here for you.'' Her body spun around and she glared at the other two occupants of the ring. ''Vickie, Paul... I hate to say it, but I actually agree with what Kermit over here was saying.''
Ignoring the look of contempt on The Miz's face at his new moniker, she took a step towards the pair.
''You ARE both bottom feeders, and that's putting it nicely. Really, getting Lesnar to beat up people you don't like? Kind of pathetic, don't you think?''
Paul laughed in astonishment. ''You're doing the exact same thing with The Shield.''
''The Shield bring justice to those who deserve it. You just had Brock beat up an old man then try to do the same to me.'' She turned to The Miz. ''You want to know why they put me on their little 'Lesnar hit-list'?''
The man shrugged, gesturing for her to continue.
''Well, Vickie's pretty easy... I just think she doesn't like me all that much.'' The older woman's contemptuous smile just confirmed her suspicions and Sierra just chuckled before continuing. ''And Paul... well, you said it yourself, Paul feeds on other people's success, and after Punk retained the WWE Championship at Survivor Series, I was suddenly the brains of the operation. He didn't like it and wanted me out-of-the-way so he could have Punk all to himself. You've got what you wanted, Paulrus, he's all yours. Looks like you've got two little bitches to 'advocate'... Good luck with-''
In a repeat of last week, Brock Lesnar's music blasted through the arena, sending the crowd into wild hysteria. Paul grabbed Vickie's arm and the pair quickly scrambled out of the ring, Sierra's eyes widening in fear as she watched The Beast make his way down the ramp.
The Miz positioned himself protectively in front of Sierra as Brock entered the ring; the two men having an intense stare down as Heyman stood on the apron, shouting for the man to stand down.
Deciding to strike first, The Miz suddenly snapped forward and gave the other man a hard shove. He stumbled back slightly before coming back and running The Miz over with a big clothesline. Sierra watched on helplessly as he hoisted the man up by the back of his suit jacket before tossing him out of the ring.
The crowds cheers increased when they realized this just left Brock and Sierra in the ring.
Paul was begging him to stop but the man continued his slow advance across the ring; his attention focused solely on the Latina in front of him. Holding her hands up defensively, she backed up, only to find herself up against the turnbuckle with nowhere to go.
A few moments passed with him just staring at her with a small smirk and Sierra decided to try to make a run for it.
Anticipating this, Brock stepped in front of her and bowed down, effortlessly lifting her up onto his shoulders.
''Brock, NO!''
Paul Heyman's head was in his hands, eyes wide as he watched The Beast deliver a powerful F-5 to the woman, leaving her lying motionless in the middle of the ring.
The arena was full of cheers and shouts of shock as Paul quickly entered the ring, hovering over Sierra with his arms outstretched to keep Brock at bay.
''No more, she's sorry, she's sorry!'' He patted her on the arm. ''It's okay, it's okay.''
Raw went off the air to an image of a red-face, furious Brock Lesnar standing over the prone form of Sierra.
Alexa glanced around the gorilla position as she was assisted through the curtain, eyes scanning over the small crowd that was there. Vince was in his usual seat at the control station and she shot him a small smile and a thumbs up in response to his questioning glance.
There were a few other people scattered around the area but her attention shifted when she heard heavy footfalls approaching. She managed a small smile when she saw Jon jogging over towards her, still wearing his ring gear from his segment earlier.
''Make sure you head to the trainer's room before you leave, those ribs need to be checked out.'' Chris Amann told her as he slowly removed the arm that had supported her.
Alexa nodded and thanked him for his help before he headed down the hallways, smiling up at Jon as he came to a halt in front of her. ''That looked pretty rough, you alright?''
''Yeah, I'm fine.''
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced at her declaration. ''I smell bullshit.'' Before she could respond, he reached out and lightly poked her ribs.
She instantly flinched away from his touch, her left arm wrapping protectively around her ribs as her right sprang out and punched him in the chest. ''Fucker! What was that for?''
''To prove a point.'' He told her, rubbing the spot where she had hit him. ''Jesus, Lex, that hurt.''
''You deserved it.''
''Come on, I'll take you to the trainer.''
She pouted up at him. ''I'm fine, they're probably just bruised.''
''Do I need to poke you again?''