Shopping Carts
-and one day I will have enough courage to talk to you-


She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He was never much of a romantic, but he soon realized he was falling head over heels. There was just a way about her that made his heart skip a beat whenever she walked by.

There was only one problem. He knew he would never have a chance with her. She was simply out of his league. Most people avoided him, given his unconventional nature, and she was clearly a beautiful, smart woman. He didn't have a chance.

Dean watched her putting groceries in the back of her car as he collected stranded shopping carts. If only he had the nerve to talk to her, to think of something to say to her. Maybe she wouldn't blow him off? Maybe she wouldn't be turned off by his eccentricities? Maybe she would be different?

He sighed in defeat as she slammed the trunk closed and climbed into the driver's seat. He pulled the carts out of the return as she backed out of the parking space. He waited until she drove by, her dark hair pulled back away from her face and her window rolled down, before he walked the carts back to the store.

He couldn't help but notice that, as she drove by, she glanced at him and smiled. A rare smile curved his lips as he entered the store, feeling better than he had in months.

-x-

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't fire you right now, Ambrose. " His boss was a burly man with a thick black mustache and a receding hairline. Dean couldn't help but notice that his face was the same shocking shade of red as the gallon of paint that Dean had just spilled all over the tile floors.

Dean was having are really bad day and it took all of the strength he had not to tell his boss off, give him the finger, and walk-off on the spot. Instead he raked his fingers through his dark blonde curls and sighed, "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up."

"You better. When you're done with that get out and collect the carts. I don't need you screwing anything else up today."

Dean watched as his boss sauntered off, mumbling under his breath as he went, before collecting a roll of paper towels, a mop and cleaner from the back. He kneeled down by the pile of richly colored liquid and began to wipe it up. First, he had been twenty-minutes late because his car wouldn't start and he had to walk. Then, he managed to drop a case of olives. It had taken him longer than he wanted to clean up the small shards of glass, as well as the olives and salty brine that had filled the twenty-four jars. Irate, his boss had moved him to the pet section. However, Dean had been blamed when a shopper, supposedly maneuvering around him as he stocked, shattered one of the fish tanks. Dean had managed to save the fish, with only a few cuts to his fingers. After reprimanding him in front of the customers his boss sent him to the do-it-yourself section, but when he was trying to put paint, that he had just mixed, into an old lady's cart, he tripped over her cane and spilled the entire gallon.

Now he was back on cart duty. He sighed as he made his way to his feet and began to mop up the remainder of the mess. At least he wasn't fired.

Although it was clear he was getting close to the unemployment line.

Once he had cleaned up the mess, Dean took care of the mop, cleaner, and garbage. He then sauntered to the back room and grabbed his brightly-colored vest. He slid it on over his dark blue t-shirt and ducked out the back door. He lit a cigarette and took his time walking around the building. Deciding, after the day he had, it was well worth the chance that he might be caught.

Once he made his way to the parking lot he put out his cigarette, dropping it into an ashtray atop a garbage can. He raked his fingers through his shaggy hair before beginning his rounds around the parking lot. It was hot and dark clouds threatened a heavy rainfall.

He collected a long chain of carts and pushed them back toward the entrance. He pushed the heavy chain through the small gate and wiped some sweat away from his brow.

It might be a pain, being out in the heat, but it was better than being stuck inside with his boss, he decided.

He started to collect the carts from the middle section of the parking lot as the rain began to fall. Luckily, it was only a light rain. He hoped that he would be able to finish the carts before the downpour began. Dean pushed a few stray carts toward one of the cart returns.

That's when he saw her.

She was pushing a cart, with a large box inside, toward her parked vehicle. Her dark hair was down and she wore her sunglasses atop her head. She clicked the button on the remote and the trunk popped open. She was so close, only a few feet away, and all he could do was watch her, fascinated.

He shoved the carts into the return with a clang, his gaze never straying from the young woman. She put a few shopping bags into the trunk before turning her sights on the large box.

And that's when he saw his opportunity.

He jogged over to her, "Can I help you with that?" He tried to act calm, ignoring his racing heart, as he approached her.

She smiled, "that would be great, thank you…" her eyes drifted toward his chest, reading his name tag, "Dean."

"It's no problem," he assured her as he lifted the large box, a flat screen TV, out of the cart and sat it down in the trunk. "There you go. Is there anything else I can do to help you?" Now that he had managed to approach her, he didn't want to let her get away. However, much to his dismay, he hadn't planned what he would say to her if he ever had the chance to talk to her.

He watched her as she slammed the trunk closed. She watched him for a minute, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He felt his cheeks flush, realizing how ridiculous he must look.

Blushing? This girl had him blushing? Dean never blushed. What was going on with him?

"No, that was all I bought, besides a few DVDs. Is there anything I can do to thank you?"

Go on a date with me? He almost blurted it out. Luckily, he caught himself, realizing how forward that would be. He was never good in social situations. "What's your name?"

She seemed puzzled by his question, but replied, "Whitney."

"Whitney. That's pretty. I like it." He looked away. Could he have sounded more stupid?

"Are you okay?" She looked at him curiously. Obviously sensing his discomfort, but was too nice to tell him to get lost.

"No, I uhm…" I've been trying to talk to you for weeks now, but I'm been too nervous. I'm a loser and I have no idea how to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me. I'm just pathetic, plain and simple. "it's just, I've… I was wondering if you'd like to go have coffee with me…" he blurted out. He raked his fingers through is hair, again.

"I'm sorry, I can't."

Great, she thinks I'm a loser. "That alright; it was stupid of me to ask. A pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend… I'm sorry… if I made you uncomfortable." Dean grabbed the cart, hoping to make a quick escape and save what little bit of his pride was left unscathed.

Of course, with the day he was having, he had no such luck.

"Dean, wait a minute." Whitney called.

Maybe he was a fool, but he stopped. "It's okay, really. You don't have to ex-"

"It's not that I don't want to go with you. It's just that I can't go right now. Today is my niece's birthday and I really have to get to her party." She explained, brushing some of her dark locks behind her ear. "But, maybe another time?"

He was shocked. She actually wanted to go out with him. He inhaled deeply, feeling stupid. "Yea, that would be great. Maybe Friday afternoon?"

"Sounds perfect; how about noon, at Café de la Rue?" She asked, twirling her car keys around her finger.

"I'll see you then." He nodded. She smiled before turning toward her car. "Oh, and Whitney…" he called to her as she started to walk away.

"Yes?" she turned to face him as she unlocked her car doors.

"You really are beautiful"

She smiled as she climbed into the driver's seat.

He pushed the carts into the cart return as she backed out of the parking space and drove past him. He waved as she passed.

Once her car was out of sight he crossed the parking lot to finish collecting carts before he clocked out.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.


an. heya guys. this is a very special present for my absolutely amazing friend Whitney. It is a welcome back present, because she has decided to return to fanficiton. Whitney, I really hope you liked this.

I found Dean a little hard to write, but I had fun giving him an awkward, shy side. I haven't seen him portrayed that way… so hopefully you guys find the different style enjoyable.

Most of all I hope you liked it Whitney, and welcome back! I've missed you! -danie


Disclaimer: I do not own dean ambrose, WWE probably has copyright on his name and Jon Good obviously owns himself (unfortunately). And I do not own Whitney either, she is, obviously, her own person.