This is a complete work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters in this work and real life people, companies or events is purely coincidental.
Dean Ambrose was thankful that the day was finally over. Well, it was over for some people. The students were gone and the teachers were leaving, so the building would be quiet soon. Once they were all gone he could breathe again. He sent a silent prayer heavenward – Please let them all go quickly and without breaking or dropping anything else. It's not asking for much… Picking up a screwdriver and pliers, he headed for the cafeteria to see if he could repair the lunch table. AGAIN. Really, how hard is it to sit on the bench and eat your food on the table? Just stop playing with the latches underneath. It's not like any of the kids have the strength to open or close the tables but they sure can break the locks and latches. This is getting old! And what were the teachers doing that were supposed to supervise these destructive beasts? This took time. Didn't they notice what was going on day after day after day? Sheesh. They acted like he wasn't fixing it right. How about they pay attention to what the students were doing, hmm? He knelt next to the table and tried to figure out how to best position himself to work on the table without hurting himself. Sit and twist around? Lay on his back? Bring a chair and hang upside down? He told himself he wasn't a young pup anymore, just suck it up and lay on the damn floor and figure out how to get up later.
That's why Dean was laying on the floor when she walked passed. He started to say something to let her know he was there but then he saw her shoes and nearly choked. Those aren't the shoes Ms. Ruark had on earlier. She had on black flats. Trust me, I was looking. She's one of the nice ones, one of the teachers who actually sees and hears, more importantly she speaks to the custodians and maintenance workers that come through this school. She's not hard on the eyes and her good heart makes her a damn fine woman. He watched Ms. Ruark head into the school kitchen. His gaze rose from the black stiletto-encased feet to the black and white paisleys on the straight skirt that covered from her waist to her ankles. The black tank top that she was wearing was covered by a sheer black overshirt. A long silver belt wrapped around her waist. The sway of those hips… He purposefully whacked his head on the bench. Focus. Respect. He stared at the bottom of the table, clutching his tools in his hands. There are lines that are never to be crossed. Remember your place. The supervisors always say…
"Are you okay?" Turning his head just a smidge brought her feet into view. Dear Lord, those aren't shoes. Those are black stiletto boots! They go up and up and up and… He saw that Ms. Ruark was crouching down because he hadn't responded and started to shake his head. "No sudden movements." she cautioned. "If you fell or struck your head you don't want to jar anything." Her care and concern was so typical of her personality. So many in this building wouldn't have even noticed him. If they did, they certainly wouldn't have checked to see if he was okay. He could be dead under the table and they wouldn't know until his body started stinking the next morning.
"I'm fine." Dean said. "Trying to fix this broken table, AGAIN."
"It does seem to keep breaking, doesn't it." she agreed with an adorable laugh. "These kids…"
He tried to slide out from underneath the table. "You are here late." She nodded. "The others have probably gone already. I don't like it when teachers are left here alone. When you are ready to go, let me know and I'll walk you out."
What crossed her face might have been a smile, he wasn't sure. It was a cross between a smile, a smirk, and a I-know-something-you-don't grin that captivated him. She touched his hand as she said, "I'll be fine. Don't you worry. That's a sweet offer, though. I have to get to my second job. No one will bother me, rest assured." Straightening, he got a good view of her at her full height and wasn't ashamed to say that right now she looked hot. He'd never been this up-close and personal with her before nor had he had the vision of her in black stiletto boots filling his mind. Ms. Ruark smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt and picked up her cup of ice. "Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow." She almost made it to the door before he asked where she worked for her second job. Giving him her profile only she called back softly "GMG" before disappearing down the hall.
Dean's tools lay discarded on the floor as he rolled to his knees and whispered, "There is no way in hell that sweet lady works at Govern Me Goddess. No way in hell." His hands fisted on his thighs at the thought of what might be hiding under her clothes besides the black stilettos. "As if I didn't want her enough before" he groaned as he lurched to his feet and headed for her classroom. Knowing he was just minutes behind her, he was shocked to see her lights off and her door locked. How did she move so fast? And how did I not hear her? A quick check of the building's hallways turned up empty. Heading to the employee entry doors, he spotted her crossing the parking lot to her car. He stood in the doorway and watched her get in her car safely. She flickered her lights and waved as she pulled out of her spot. He returned her wave as she drove away. "Now what do I do?" he asked himself.