The following morning Ambrose was waiting in reception for their travel manager to tell him which bus he needed to get on. He was chatting to Roman and Dolph when he noticed Claire walk through the hotel doors. She was red in the face, sweaty with wind-swept hair. She was with that other social media girl, her name escaped him. Lily? He deducted they must've been running. She looked the same as Claire. Except she didn't. The other girl looked like she needed a good rest and a stiff drink. She looked tired and gross. Claire, while equally sweaty and tired, looked almost radiant, he thought. He wouldn't want to touch the other girl right now, but Claire…. She just carried herself differently. She looked great. She was wearing a light grey t shirt and tight Lycra pants, which accentuated the shape of her legs. Ambrose knew what they looked like under there and found himself recalling her high cut swim suit.

Claire smiled at him and raised her eyebrows quickly. The other girl smiled too, and then they disappeared into the elevator lobby. Ambrose took a glimpse at Claire as she walked away, then turned back to rejoin the conversation. He, Roman, Dolph, and Paige were getting on an early bus to the next stop for Smackdown, as they had some media and meet and greet commitments awaiting them. He found himself wondering if any of the social media team would be there to cover them. Before long, the group was being loaded onto a minibus and driving the two hours to Smackdown.

Ambrose next saw Claire on the weekend for the live events. This weekend, their group had the double schedule, with a show in Hartford on the Friday night and a show in Providence on the Sunday. She knocked on his locker room door and told him he needed to pose for Snapchat. "Out of all of them, I think that is the biggest waste of time," he told her, as he put on his Dean Ambrose hoodie for the shot. To his surprise, Claire agreed. "I don't think it's as valuable a platform for us as Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, but that's where the kids are so you have to meet them there. Now what do you want to do? Anything in particular?" she asked. He chuckled. "You're sounding very business-like today." She apologised. "I've just got a whole heap of stuff to do. I'm on my own here this weekend so I'm taking care of everything. Which seemed okay until I actually had to start doing it." Ambrose nodded. "Well, what type of shots work best for me, do you think?" Claire answered quicker than he thought. "I can tell you for a fact that images of you looking crazy, with the crazy hair and crazy eyes, they get the most engagement. So, channel that lunatic and let's make some magic." Ambrose smiled, and took a minute to pump himself up, to get his game face on. Claire took a few regular pictures and then the Snapchat to send out to the crowd, who were making their way into the venue. "Excellent," she said. "How do you just snap in and out of that so quickly?" He turned to her. "How did you know what type of pictures get the most interaction so quickly? It's your job, right? Well, it's my job to roll in and out of the loony bin several times a week." She went to leave, and he found himself asking, before he could stop himself, "So, what are you doing tonight?" Claire said over her shoulder "Catching up with some college friends. They're coming to the show tonight, and then we're gonna head out for a catch up." With that, she walked up the hall, leaving Ambrose to prepare for his match.

Claire didn't stay out late with her friends. It was nice to see them, but being the only social media person on the road this weekend, she had a report to write and Zane had requested a short article for the website. She was back to the hotel before midnight, deciding to hit the hotel gym in the morning. There was no pool at this place, which meant she'd have to brave the gym. She'd made the mistake early on in her time on the road of going to the hotel gym at the same time as some of the roster. She'd never felt more out of place. There was grunting and peacocking and posturing, and Claire found herself most comfortable jogging on the treadmill with her back to them. The intensity of their workouts intimidated her, so she stuck to cardio. She planned to go early in the hope that most of the roster, knowing they had the following day off, would plan their workouts a little later in the day. And it worked; when she got to the gym at 6.15am, she had it to herself. She turned her music up loud to help get her in the mood, and hit the rowing machine first up. Exercising in the morning was best for her, so she could get it out of the way before her brain realised what she was doing. She often felt like she dozed through some of her workouts, not quite sure how she got from one point to another while still half asleep. She was sometimes oblivious to her surroundings. That's why cardio was safe too – if her brain switched off on the rower, at least she'd just stop moving, and not drop a bar full of weights on her chest or something. As she rowed, she thought about her day – writing the report over a coffee in the hotel café seemed like a great idea. She might be able to read some of her book, and wander through Hartford this afternoon. She hit her 15 minute time on the machine and came to a slow stop. She unbuckled her feet from the straps, took a swig or two of her water, and stood up, exhaling loudly. As she turned towards the stretching area, she saw a man standing about two feet away from her, and she jumped in shock. "Holy shit, Ambrose, you gave me a fright!"

Ambrose hadn't been in the room long. He'd woken early thanks to his body clock, and decided to hit the gym before it got busy. He noticed Claire just finishing up on the rowing machine, and thought he would avoid the awkward voyeurism of the swimming pool incident by making his presence known early this time. "Working hard, I see?" he asked Claire. The poor girl got a huge fright to see him there, lost in her own world of music and rowing. "Yeah," she replied. "For this hour of the morning anyway. Why are you here so early?" Ambrose told her he was a creature of habit. "So you're a bit of a gym fiend, then? I saw you were out running the other day." Claire scoffed. "I wouldn't call myself that, no. I just do what I have to do so I can eat Italian food." They both grinned. "I can't stand weights. Like, I know their important, but I can't really do them by myself. I just lose interest. I went to a bootcamp in Stamford, which was the only way I actually did weights. When everyone else was doing it too and someone was yelling at me." Ambrose laughed. "I don't believe you," he said flat out. Claire was looking at him confused. "Look, I don't wanna sound like a creep or anything, but I've seen the size of your thigh muscles." Uh oh, he thought immediately. That came out wrong. Claire looked a little bashful for a moment, and glanced down at her legs. Ambrose panicked. He didn't mean to insult her – what he'd wanted to say was that she had powerful looking legs, not massive thighs. Girls don't like that, you asshole, he admonished himself. "I mean, I th-think that your legs are fine, I just…" he stumbled over himself. Get a grip, Mox. What the hell? Claire stopped him. "Actually, these chunky thighs, you wanna know where they came from?" Ambrose nodded slightly. "Sure." Claire looked a bit sheepish. "It's probably just another thing you'll think makes me a nerd." Ambrose cocked his head. "Whoever said I think you're a nerd?" Claire smiled softly. "Hold your judgement until you hear this." He watched as she took a swig of her water. "In a previous life, I was a ballroom dancer. Dancing in heels six days a week sure gives you some shape in your legs." She was looking at him cautiously, as if she expected him to run away screaming. Ambrose didn't know what to say. He did think ballroom dancing was kind of nerdy. But if it had given her that body, then it must be a pretty good workout. "I totally wouldn't have put you as a dancer," he said, deciding that was the safest answer. Claire chuckled. "It's been a while. And it's why you'll never see me in a pair of heels again. I used up my quota by the age of 19." Ambrose took a look at her legs again, and said "Well, it looks like it did you the world of good." If she wasn't glowing in the face from her workout, he could've sworn she was blushing. "Thanks. Anyway, I've got a few more exercises to do and then a day full of work to get through. I'll leave you to your workout." Ambrose watched her as she went to grab a swiss ball and started some crunches. He chastised himself. Great, now she thinks you're a perve and a creep. Ambrose plugged in his music and set about his own workout, with only the occasional glimpse over at Claire.

Later, after a shower and breakfast, Claire set herself up at a table in the café. She had her notes from last night with her, and set about writing her report. Usually it would take a couple of hours to analyse the information and put it into real-world speak, but she was happy for this to take a bit longer. She had a whole day to kill, and was feeling a bit worn out after her workout. As she sipped her coffee, she found herself recalling the conversation she'd had with Ambrose. She couldn't believe she told him about her dancing. He will think that is so uncool, she thought to herself. But why should that matter? She didn't care what he thought of her, did she? No, of course not. His opinion didn't bother her. But it would be nice if people didn't think she was uncool. Maybe she should challenge him to more table hockey so he remembered how badass she was in that realm. She chuckled to herself. Thank god no one can hear this mess inside my head. She was glad she had worn a baggy college t shirt to the gym that morning, rather than her running singlet. Her chest was well-covered from his Mastering ways. Don't flatter yourself, she said internally. He's surrounded by all these beautiful Divas, why would he even bother? She reminded herself that she wasn't here to be anyone's eye candy, and this weekend was a chance to prove to Zane she knew her stuff and was capable of completely running a live event schedule on her own.

After she'd finished her report, she was walking around Hartford, taking in Saturday shoppers and forgetting about work. She browsed a few shops, spent longer than she should've in a pet shop overflowing with puppies, when the local cinema caught her eye. As part of a "90s Kid" series, tonight they were showing The Mighty Ducks. She couldn't believe her luck. That was the movie that made her and her brother fall in love with hockey. She wasn't the type to go to the movies by herself, but with no other plans tonight, and Lucy and Carl not on this rotation with her, it was either movies by herself or staying in for the night. She took note of the start time and decided she would come back later.

Claire returned to her room to find a note slipped under her door.
You said your squad wasn't around tonight. Hit me up if you wanna head out somewhere. Jon.
First of all, don't use the term 'squad' ever again, please. It was like 'on fleek' to Claire, a horrid Hollywood term which implied a sense of idiocy. Second, does she want to spend the night with Ambrose? She had quite been looking forward to going to the movie. And what would people think if she spent another night in the company of the Titty Master? Claire thought about her options while showering, and decided that with Roman, Dolph and Cody on the other rotation, Ambrose didn't exactly have his 'squad' around this weekend either. She sent him a text message to the number he'd left on the note.
Hey. Saw that the local cinema is playing the original Mighty Ducks movie at 8pm. That's my plan for the night. If you're keen, just let me know.
Claire remembered that he didn't have her number. So followed up her message with:
This is Claire, by the way.
A minute later, a reply beeped on her phone.
Damn, I thought maybe I was getting unsolicited offers from random ladies and would need to change my number again. Claire smirked. He was nothing if not confident in himself. A second later, another message came through. Sounds great though. Love that movie. Meet you in the lobby at 7?
Claire gave it a minute or two before she replied, making it seem like she wasn't hanging out for his response.
Sure. See you then.
Claire started doing her hair when another reply appeared on her phone.
Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack….
She smiled. He might be a womaniser from all accounts, but he was funny.

Claire was surprised to see Ambrose already waiting for her in the lobby. He'd just told her a few days before he was bad with time. "Wasn't expecting to be waiting for you," he said with a grin. "It's not even 7 yet!" she cried in defence. They wandered towards the cinema and stopped at a local bar for a quick drink. "My shout," Claire said. Ambrose tried to refuse, but she wanted to show that she wasn't expecting him to pay for everything just because he earned more than she did. Plus, she thought, it helped to eliminate any inkling he may have that this is a date. As they drank, they chatted about the movie. "I remember watching it at school one day," Ambrose said. 'It was the last day before summer break and I think the teacher had long checked out, so we just sat and watched movies all day." Claire nodded. "I fell in love with it and I think I watched our VHS copy about 100 times." Ambrose laughed. "So were you a Charlie fan? A little bit of Josh Jackson take your fancy?" Claire blushed. "Wanna hear something even more embarrassing than the dancing?" Ambrose raised his eyebrows. "Is that possible?" he asked, elbowing her gently to prove he was having a laugh. "Well, I think so. I was so besotted by the movie, and Adam Banks, that I re-wrote the entire movie with an extra character, Sarah, which I imagined I would play. Charlie's sister and Adam's girlfriend." She laughed, and Ambrose joined her. "Sorry," he giggled. "That is pretty lame." Claire roared with laughter. "It's really lame! And what's worse is that I did the same for the following two movies as well!" Ambrose shook his head. "You needed a hobby!" Claire smiled softly. "Writing and hockey were my two hobbies, so I combined them." Ambrose laughed, and asked what this Sarah got up to. "Well, she was Charlie's conscience and Adam's sweetheart who was the first one to make him feel at home in the Ducks. And then, in a nod to my ten year old inner feminist, she became vice captain and won them a game somewhere along the way, when the other teams didn't think they should be playing girls." The pair laughed, and Claire couldn't believe she'd shared that. "I've not told anyone that in a long time. I think my mom read out some of the cheesy lines at my 21st and then I made her throw them away." Ambrose casually, touched her arm and said "Don't worry. If I could spell, I'm sure I would've done the same with some old wrestling promos. I used to jump off our sofa and on to the floor like the guys I saw on TV. I used to recite Ultimate Warrior promos on my way to school." Claire nodded. She could see a little Ambrose doing exactly that.

The movie was just as Claire remembered. She was able to recite almost every line. She found Ambrose smirking at her from time to time. She didn't care. She loved this movie. It reminded her of her childhood, when she had no responsibilities and was able to dream. As the credits began to roll, Claire got up out of her seat, only to feel Ambrose pull her down again. Baffled, she looked at him. "Let's just wait for some of the crowd to clear a bit. Please." Claire felt a bit embarrassed. She didn't even think about how going out at peak time on a Saturday night would be for him. They sat until the lights came on in the theatre, and then walked into the lobby. Within seconds, Claire could hear people saying his name. A few pulled their phones out and took snaps, and she found herself falling back a step to make sure she wasn't in them. Then one person came up and asked for a picture, then another, then another. Ambrose searched over the top of the growing crowd for Claire. He shrugged, and she smiled gently, hoping he realised that she didn't mind. She took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, and when she re-emerged, it was like the crowd hadn't dissipated at all. Ambrose was signing and smiling for photos in every direction. Even the cinema staff were getting in on the action. After about ten minutes, when he'd signed the last shirt, he wandered over to Claire, and apologised. "Sorry about that," he said. "Should've warned you." Claire shook her head. "No, I should've thought about it. Probably the stupidest time of the week for you to try and see a movie without being interrupted." They walked back towards their hotel, chatting about tomorrow night's show. As they waited at an intersection, they heard a small voice say "Daddy look! It's Dean Ambrose!" Ambrose didn't turn his head, but Claire did. Holding on to his father's hand was a small boy of about seven. He had a Dean Ambrose hat on and eyes wide at seeing a WWE Superstar right in front of him. Claire elbowed Ambrose. "Come on, he's like seven years old. And totally adorable." Ambrose rolled his eyes at her and turned around. "Hey buddy, how you doing?" he said, shaking the boy's hand. The kid was so excited he could hardly say anything. Claire offered to take a photo of the three together, and he signed the boy's comic book as the only paper he had on him. The father thanked Ambrose profusely, and then Claire and Ambrose headed in the opposite direction. Claire took a look over her shoulder to see the boy bouncing with excitement, looking at his comic book as if it was the most precious gold.

"I wish I could do that," she said to Ambrose as they neared their hotel. "Do what?" he asked, not sure what she was referring to. "Make someone's day." Ambrose scoffed. "You get a bit over it when people are interrupting your life every five minutes." Claire's brow furrowed. "I don't see it that way. Maybe you don't remember what it's like to be a fan, but I see it every day. The Universe, their tweets and responses to our content… There are so many people out there who would kill to meet you, to have a photo with you. You guys don't realise that ten seconds of your time can make someone's day. Hell, I reckon you just made that kid's year. He'll probably sleep with that comic tonight. It'll be his show and tell and he'll always remember that. To him, you're a hero, and you just gave him the best moment of his life. That's a real superpower." Claire saw his face change. "Yeah, you're right. It's hard to remember that when it happens all the time. I guess I don't think of it that way," he said to her. "But don't be so hard on yourself," he added quickly. "I'm sure make someone's day regularly too." Claire looked at him and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Don't let him, Claire, don't fall for it…. She didn't reply, just gave him a soft smile.

As they entered the elevator, Ambrose asked her plans for tomorrow. The entire WWE group was travelling to Providence on a bus at 10.30am. "I might try and fit in a workout in the morning," Claire said, "and then it'll be reviewing notes and prep for the show." Ambrose nodded. "You want to grab a meal after the show?" Claire felt a wash of unease pass through her. "Why?" she asked him. Ambrose, confused, asked "Why not?" Claire shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Text me in the morning." Claire got out of the elevator at her floor, and said goodnight to Ambrose, leaving him to wonder what the hell that was all about.