So there was a time when captainbartholomew feed me this idea and kept at it until I decided to write this thing. I soon discovered that whenever she wants something cracky to read she feeds me the prompt... But I guess that's cool with me. :D But my point here is that this is all captainbartholomew's fault!

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable names, so none of the wrestlers are mine. I don't even have an autographed picture of Ric Flair. I also don't have any ownership of the Dirt Devil vacuums or Disney.

A/N: This is set during the Shield days. Also, Leah is what I'm calling Roman's daughter, so yay for that.

"Seth! Roman's lost it! We need to help him!" Dean's blue eyes were wide and earnest.

Seth stood frozen in the locker room's doorway. He could see Roman behind Dean, sitting on a steel chair with his head buried in his hands. He was also babbling a stream of nonsense words. All Seth could make out was 'Sorry,' 'stupid,' and 'pictures.' "What's wrong with Roman?"

"Triple H somehow got his greedy hands on some compromising photos of Roman and is threatening to release them in a promo. We need to get them back. I have a plan!"

"How compromising?"

"He won't tell me, just shakes his head and kinda whimpers; they must be really bad."

"Okay, I can figure something out…"

"No! I said I have a plan! It's fool proof!"

"But Dean, I usually come up with the strategy-"

"I know! It's like you don't even trust me! I have some really great ideas, and you don't even value my input!"

Seth blinked. Where the heck was this coming from? "I didn't realize that you felt that way, Dean. Umm, I guess we can go with your plan."

"Great! We have to get to the airport; our flight leaves in an hour."

"Fight?"

"Yeah, to Connecticut!"

"Dean, what the heck is in Connecticut?"

(One flight and a short drive later)

"Okay, I'm just going to point out that this is the worst plan ever concocted in this history of the world, and I am a kind of ashamed for taking part in it," Seth said with a complete deadpan.

"Shut up, Seth. We're doing this for Roman. Nothing good could come out of Triple H having those photos. We protect our own."

Seth sighed. "I'm not arguing with you about that. We're brothers… It's just that… You literally have no strategy. You want to waltz straight into the place and tear it apart, looking. And all we're going off of is a rumor that Triple H has the copies of the photos in his house. This is embarrassing, Dean."

"If you were in Roman's shoes, he'd do the same for you."

Seth frowned. "Next time, we follow my plan. Let's just get this over with before I curbstomp you, Dean."

"That's all I ask for."

"Oh! Stop, you two! Right now!" A voice with a German accent called out.

Dean and Seth froze as an impossibly tiny woman came scurrying over to them, where they had been casually walking across Triple H's front hallway. When she stopped and stood slightly stooped before the two members of Shield, they could see that she was probably pushing into her mid-eighties. Her face was an impressively detailed topographical map of a river valley with more wrinkles than smooth plains. A couple white locks of hair escaped her gray scarf and framed light blue eyes.

The two men exchanged looks. According to Dean's plan, they were supposed to just knock out anyone in the house, but when they saw the decrepit woman, neither had the heart to smack her over the head with either their fists or a blunt object.

"Where. do. you. think. you. are. going?" Each word was punctuated with a dramatic brandish of her feather duster.

"Oh, ah, we are here to-"

"Oh please, stop!" She cut Dean off dramatically. She gingerly climbed onto a nearby chair and whacked Dean over the head with the feather duster.

"Ow!"

"I know why you are here."

Seth glanced at Dean with slightly panicked eyes, and Dean subtly held up a hand to placate the younger man. "You do?"

"Phish posh. Of course." She pointed to her head. "I may be old but I am still sharp as a tack." She turned and gestured to the Shield to follow her. "Now come with me, so you can change into your uniforms."

"Uniforms?" Confusion laced Seth's voice.

"I don't do uniforms," Dean informed the lady, smugly.

The old lady hit Dean on the arm with the feather duster. "Mr. Hunter is still quite old fashioned. I am only glad that he listened to my advice and hired big, strong girls this time. None of those twigs. You two might be able to keep up with me."

"Girls?" Seth rubbed his beard in confusion.

Seth knelt on the hardwood floor, rubbing the wax polish onto it. After carefully finishing the section, he stood and adjusted his short skirt, so that it lay straight and fell down to his mid-thigh, and the frilly white apron settled lightly over it. After stretching to quell the discomfort brought about from the labor-intensive task, Seth sighed and mentally cursed Dean for possibly the millionth time that day. If they hadn't followed Dean's ridiculously bare-boned plan, they wouldn't have had to deal with an ancient woman that threatened to call the police if they didn't comply with some imaginary contract that Triple H had all of his maids sign, which dictated that they wear a classic French maid outfit while on the clock, and he wouldn't be waxing Triple H's floor in a ridiculously short dress, fishnets, and low heels. He felt ridiculous.

"This is such a dumb idea," he muttered to himself. Then Seth frowned when he realized that he hadn't been paying enough attention to what he had been doing, and his lack of attention had resulted in successfully boxing himself into the corner of the room. There was no way to avoid stepping on the freshly applied wax. "Awe crap."

For the next five minutes, Seth carefully tiptoed across the room until he could safely stand on the carpet. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, hating his life at the moment.

How did he get into this situation? Dumb question. He could blame this entire embarrassment on his teammate. Seth really regretted not hearing Dean's plan before agreeing to it.

"Honey! If you're finished with that floor, why don't you grab the Devil and tackle those stairs," the supervising maid's voice jolted Seth back to reality.

"All right, I'll get started on that," Seth called back. After figuring out that the lady had meant the Dirt Devil handheld vacuum, Seth faced the long, curving, and carpeted stars and cursed under his breath. "Come on, Dean. Where the heck are you?"

Dean was trying to hurry; he really was. The only problem was that the house was ridiculously big, and he really had no idea where Triple H would keep compromising photos of Roman. He had already checked each of Stephanie and Triple H's home offices with no such luck.

It was lucky for him that Seth was actually competent at cleaning; otherwise, their cover story would have fallen apart at the seams within minutes. Really as it was, they really had to thank Triple H for continuing to employ a half blind, slightly crazy woman as the head housekeeper. As it played out, Dean actually felt a little bad for manipulating the old lady, but this was for their brother. If any member of the Shield ever found himself in a bind, none of them would hesitate to step in to do whatever they could to solve the problem.

"Deanna! I need you down here! And don't forget the master bedroom's garbage!" Dean jumped slightly at the loud bellow that carried from the downstairs bathroom. Jeez, for pushing a hundred, that lady sure had a set of lungs…

Dean stopped at the master bedroom, grabbed the little trash bin, and found himself freezing. Through the open doors of the walk in closet, Dean could see a small safe. He was going to need Seth's help, but that safe was the best lead so far. He grinned. "Bingo"

He darted out of the room and started to head down the stairs, where he saw Seth, who was bending over slightly to vacuum the steps. "Careful, sugar, I can see down your top."

Seth's brown eyes narrowed at a stubborn dust bunny that eluded the Dirt Devil. "Bite me, jerk."

Dean raised the hand that wasn't holding the trash bin. "Hey, I come in peace with good tidings! No need for such harsh words."

Seth finally looked up, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "What the heck is on your head?"

Dean pouted and fluffed out the long blonde ringlets. "You don't like it?"

"You look like Little Bow Peep!"

Dean put on a mock hurt expression. "Everyone's a critic. I found this in Triple H's personal office's closet."

Seth gaped at Dean. "What the?"

Dean shrugged. "I have no idea. I thought it went with my outfit though."

Unfortunately, it really did. With the long, curly blonde wig and French maid dress, Dean looked either like a Swedish housekeeper, or a rejected member of an eighties glam band that was forced to find an alternative career.

"Now what's your good tidings?"

"DEANNA!" The head housekeeper shrieked. Dean and Seth both flinched.

"Hold that thought. I'll be right back."

Seth sighed and thumped his head against the wall.

"Stella! I don't hear any vacuuming!"

Seth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he switched the Dirt Devil on once again. Dirt Devil… Kane was the Devil's favorite demon… A connection, maybe? Was Kane very good at cleaning? Seth absentmindedly moved to the next step.

"Okay, we need to polish the banister and-"

"Dean, shut up! What was your good news?" Seth set the vacuum (still powered on) down on the top step.

"Oh, yeah, about that, there's a safe in the master bedroom. I think that's where they are. You can crack it!"

Seth stared at Dean. "Why would I crack it?"

"Isn't that something the Architect should be able to do?"

"No… I've never had to break into a safe before."

Dean tilted his head and stared at Seth. After a moment of Dean's blank stare, Seth sighed and said, "I guess I can always Google it."

As the two walked towards the master bedroom, Seth noticed a couple of photos sticking out of Dean's frilly apron pocket. Seth's hand darted out, and he snatched the photos out of the pocket.

"Woeh, Seth, watch where you're grabbing!"

"What the heck am I looking at?"

"A goldmine, my friend." Dean smirked at Seth, and Seth silently agreed with that assessment as exemplified by the way he held the two photos in his hands as though he held the Holy Grail, instead of unflattering snapshots of middle aged men.

The first photo looked like it was from the 80's, especially since it featured a young Hunter with fluffy, Farrah Fawcett hair.

"That is a high school photo of the WWE's COO, who was apparently an aspiring Charlie's Angel star," Dean said, smugly.

The other photo showcased Randy Orton with Stephanie and Triple H at Disney World... Stephanie was her usual self; however, the two men both wore Mickey Mouse ears. Triple H and Stephanie stood holding hands next to Randy, who had the biggest grin on his face and was hugging Gaston from The Beauty and the Beast.

"What on earth…" Seth muttered staring at Randy's child-like wonder that was on display for all eternity in the snapshot.

Dean sniggered. "I think Stephanie and Triple H are really Orton's adopted parents, and this is from the time when he was a good boy, so they took him to Disney World."

Seth wrinkled his nose as he pictured a cozy family scene with Randy sitting in between Triple H's young daughters during a Saturday morning breakfast, eating pancakes. "That's a mental image that I never wanted to have!"

Dean waggled his eyebrows at Seth. "That's too bad for you, kid. We left the brain bleach back at the arena with Roman."

Seth rolled his eyes. "But seriously, this is genius, Dean."
"I know! Can you imagine how great these things would look on my mantel over my fireplace at home! I can finally put some pictures in those macaroni frames that Leah made for me," Dean said with a huge grin.

Seth fought the urge to face palm and said through gritted teeth, "I thought that you had these for a counter-blackmail attack on Triple H and Orton in case we can't find Roman's photos!"

Dean frowned and reached up to push some of the crazy wig's curls out of his face. He then shot a deadpan at Seth. "I know that, and you know that. You know that I know that. So why would I waste time telling you when we both already knew. All that matters is that it'll cause Triple H trouble."

Seth rolled his eyes. "You're so full of it."

Dean led the high flier over to the closet that housed the safe when they reached the master bedroom. Seth knelt in front of the small, unobtrusive safe. "Huh, I expected something more high-tech, considering how much money they have."

"Yeah, I guess we caught a break; don't question it, Seth."

Seth shrugged and studied the safe. "This is still going to be really annoying."

Dean sat on a wooden chair just outside of the closet, slouching and crossing his arms. "Do you think Hunter is dumb enough to just have his birthday be the code?"

Seth frowned, considering. "I don't think he's dumb enough… but maybe he's conceited enough."

Seth carefully entered the numbers "7-27-1969" into the safe's keypad. There was a moment's pause before a clicking noise was heard. "Dean, you're a genius."

Dean watched Seth open the safe with wide eyes and a grin plastered on his face. "Tell me something I don't know."

Seth glanced up at Dean as he pulled a manila envelope out of the safe. He carefully stood up, and he schooled his face into a serious expression. "Your lipstick is too dark for your complexion. That shade of red is almost too hooker for you."

Dean scowled, stood up from the chair, and shoved Seth back lightly. "At least my hair doesn't have a playful bounce."

Seth rolled his eyes and unconsciously tucked the blonde section back behind his ear. "You're just jealous."

"You, two, think you are so clever. Just I may be old, but that does not mean that I am stupid. I am subscribed to the WWE network for the low price of 9.99 per month."

Dean and Seth froze and looked over at the door to see the head housekeeper, tapping a foot in disapproval at their actions.

Seth raised his hands in a soothing gesture. "Please, listen, we can-"

"Hush, sweetie. I understand what's happening here." She walked towards the two members of Shield and carefully stood on the chair that Dean had previously abandoned. With its added height, she barely stood above the two men. "Now listen to-"

"Sorry, lady, we don't really have time-"

The maid smacked Dean on the head again with the feather duster. "I may be old, but I still deserve your respect. My name is Rose, not lady. I said listen. I know that you are really a man, Deana. But I also know that Mr. Hunter can be a bad man. What you are doing is honorable. You should always defend one of your own. You might wrestle for the WWE and for Mr. Hunter, but that does not give him the right to treat you injustly. I know as the Shield, you fight injustice."

"So you're not going to report us?" Seth asked.

Rose's eyes softened. "No, Stella, I have worked for Hunter for many years now, and I would enjoy seeing him suffer."

Dean gaped at Rose. And Seth added, "You know, my name is Seth, right?"

Rose laughed. "Dean is not a woman, but Stella, you cannot fool me."

Seth looked at the old maid in disbelief. "I have a beard!"

Rose smiled slyly at Seth and patted him on the head.

"You're messing with me! You made us clean with you in these dresses as your own personal joke!" Seth couldn't help but grin at the old woman's audacity while Dean sniggered.

Rose hit Dean again with the feather duster. "I wish I could set you up on a date with my granddaughter. But for now, scat. You need to zip back to Smackdown to help your teammate."

The two had started for the door when Rose spoke again, "Wait, don't you boys want the real photo?"

Seth opened the envelope to reveal an autographed picture of Ric Flair. Dean scratched his head sheepishly as Seth glared at him.

"I'll give you the photo under one condition."

"Rome, we got them back!"

"Dean, I don't think he moved at all from when we left..."

Dean leaned forward and poked Roman on the arm. "Roman, we have the photos!"

Roman moved his hands away from his face. "You did?"

Seth nodded and waved the envelope around. "We did!"

Roman reached out, and Seth handed the envelope to him. "Thank God. My rep would've been killed." He glanced up at his two brothers. "Dean, what's with the wig?"

Dean's eyes widened and he flung the curly mess off his head and into the far reaches of the locker room. "Nothing."

Roman narrowed his eyes at Dean but then shrugged, deciding that it wasn't worth it. He then opened the envelope. "Now, keep this between us. I'm trusting you." He pulled out the single photo and sighed in relief.

Seth frowned. "You've gotta be kidding."

"That's compromising?"

Roman frowned. "This is serious."

Seth and Dean exchanged looks. The photo that they had gone through so much trouble to retrieve was of Roman Reigns in A Christmas Story inspired pair of footsie pajamas: a pink bunny suit. To add more adorableness to the photo, his daughter had fallen asleep in his arms, wearing a matching pair of PJ's.

"Where do you even find bunny pajamas in that size?" Dean asked.

Roman shrugged. "They were a gift."

Seth rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Okay, let's get ready for tonight's show. It's going to be pretty ground breaking."

"What do you mean by 'ground breaking'?"

Dean grinned. "We're introducing our newest member tonight."

"And it's a 4 on 3, handicap match! The Shield vs. Team Hell No and John Cena! Shield's newest member is going to start off the match against Cena!"

Cena appeared to be talking animatedly to the official as the bell rang. Rose stood on the top rope and smacked Cena over the head with her feather duster.

"It is immodest to not wear a shirt!" She shouted at the WWE face.

Cena raised his arms to block the fierce blows from the cleaning tool. "Most wrestlers were less than me!"

"Look at my boys! They are proper!" One hit managed to split Cena's bottom lip. "They have pants and shirts!" Another blow hit Cena on one of his ears. "But young Roman could wear less, and I would think that's acceptable."

On the apron, Roman actually blushed while Seth and Dean nearly died from laughter.

"Is that your usual demographic, Ro?" Dean asked, sniggering.

WHAM! Another hit connected with Cena's nose.

"Look, ma'am, I don't want to hurt you-"

"Hurt me!" Rose cackled and smacked Cena again on the side of the head from her perch on the top rope. She then sprang into a dropkick off the top rope, and Cena crumpled beneath the surprising force of her blow. Rose leaned down to tell Cena, "I may be old, but I can still beat up John Cena!"

On the opposite apron, Team Hell No watched in disbelief as Rose held Cena's shoulders down for a pinfall.

"And Rose goes for the pin! ONE TWO THREE! The Shield wins!"

So if you're wondering what on earth you just read, blame captainbartholomew! She prompted me with Dean and Seth in French maid outfits, and this is what resulted... So if you want to read something more serious after this, check out her story, Incognito. It's a total change of pace from this cracky fic, and it's totally amazing. :D Check it out!

Also, the character of Rose is basically my 80 year-old German manager at work. I found the image of her bossing The Shield around to be irresistible.