Disclaimer: I don't own any characters you recognize, only my OC's.

Avalon threw her pencil down in frustration as she stared at the equation whose solution eluded her. Her cell phone buzzed and she leapt for it, grateful for the momentary distraction.

"Avalon, Preferred Property Sales," she answered.

"Hey Lon, it's me," her best friend replied.

"Becca! I didn't recognize the number. What's up?"

"I'm stuck at the office working on a counteroffer with a client. Are you busy?" Becca asked. Avalon glanced over at her circuits homework that was due in three days.

"Oh, uh…nothing I can't come back to…" She trailed off, twirling her pencil in her hand.

"Are you still working on that circuits problem?!"

Avalon stumbled over her words trying to answer. "No, I—wait, how the fuck did you figure that out?"

Her best friend of five years chuckled quietly at her. "I can hear the Frozen score in the background. You only play orchestra music when you're studying. Plus, your attempt at nonchalance was god awful."

"Well, damn. And here I thought I was doing so well!" They laughed together for a minute before Avalon continued. "What's up? Did you actually need me for something?"

"Oh! Yeah, this new client of mine just called and wants to see my Shield Lane listing. I'm going to be working on this counteroffer for a few more hours, so I thought I'd see if you would show him the house?"

"Becca…that's a $2.3 million listing."

"Exactly! I can't give the client to just anybody. Besides, you love that house. You know it like the back of your hand. Or you should, considering how many times I've dragged you out there to restage the furniture."

Chewing on her lip, she considered it. That house was her favorite, out of all the listings she and her best friend had ever had. "Okay, sure. I have you covered. What time do they want to see it?"

"6 pm."

"Bec, that's in an hour! I-I-I have to shower and get dressed an-"

"Lon, sweetheart, calm down. Throw on a nice dress, some low heels, put your hair in a clip. You'll be fine. Oh, but, do me a favor—it's just this one guy, a, uh…well, shit. I can't find his name. Just, uh…call me when you get to the house and when he gets there and when you leave. And bring the dog with you."

"Moxley?! You want me to bring a 7 month old German Shepherd puppy with me to show a multi-million dollar house?!" she scoffed.

"It'll make me feel better. You know he'll protect you. Hell, he tried to take off the mail guy's balls that one time. Please, Avalon?"

She sighed before conceding, knowing she'd feel safer with Moxley there as well. "Alright, I'll call you when I get there. Thanks Becs." Sighing again, she ended the call and hurried to her room to consider clothing options.

Thank God I shaved this morning, she though as she pulled out a few dresses. Not the yellow, too long. That dark blue? No…definitely too formal. Her eyes fell upon a forest green dress that fell just above her knees. She slipped into it and moved to the bathroom. A dab of gold eye shadow and a fresh swipe of mascara was all she needed before pulling her long blonde hair into a clip.

With a piercing whistle, Avalon called her dog to her. "Now Moxley, this is important. We're gonna go for a ride, but you have to be on your very best behavior," she explained to him as she gathered his collar and leash. Leaning down, she clipped them around his neck and gave him her best stern look. "If you're good, we'll get a new toy, okay Mox?" Moxley let out a quiet wuff, wagging his tail. "Alright, then let's go."

Avalon pulled into 927 Shield Lane ten minutes later. Twenty minutes until he gets here. A wet nose touched her arm, prompting her to grab her cell phone and Moxley's ball. Dialing Becca's number, she tossed the ball toward the back yard and watched her puppy race after it. "I'm here."

"Good. And where's my Moxley boy?"

"Currently chasing down his tennis ball." She grunted as she tossed it across the yard again.

"Perfect. Keep me updated, texts every 15 minutes to let me know you're alive."

"Yes, mother," Avalon teased.

"Fucking brat. Be good and sell my listing!" she joked before hanging up. Avalon continued to throw the ball to Moxley until she heard another car. A blue Camaro pulled in just as she released her throw. She glanced up briefly as the man began to step out of the car.

"Hi, I'll be right there!" she smiled as she turned to find her dog. "Moxley!" Her puppy came bounding through the grass to stop in front of her. "Atta boy, Mox," she praised, clipping the leash on and turning to stand up. "Hello sir, I'm—" The words caught in her throat. Blue-green eyes met piercing baby blues. "Avalon Graye," she choked out.

Standing in front of her was Jonathan Good, more commonly known to the WWE universe as Dean Ambrose.

Okay, guys. First chapter of my first ever fanfic. It's an idea I've had written in a journal for months now, I'm still toying with it. Let me know what you think. It's going to be short, just a few more chapters, but I think it'll really pick up soon ;)