"You're entirely bonkers. But let me tell you a secret—all the best people in the world are."—Lewis Carroll

Seth quickly shut the door behind him to block out the sound of Dean's cat-like yowling and flicked the light switch. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that Dean had been in there without light for quite a while—as a result, his wails grew even louder.

Roman was at Dean's side in an instant, patting Dean's head gently to try and calm him down. Dean continued to thrash in his bindings for a few more minutes, then he finally relaxed, leaning against Roman's waist. Seth undid the ropes keeping him captive slowly, still wary of sudden attacks. He, of all people, was too aware of how slippery a vengeful Dean could be.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Roman was murmuring into the top of Dean's head.

"You did it again," Dean whined. "You promised you wouldn't."

"I know. I got too caught up in myself again."

"Hmph."

Seth tried not to feel too jealous again as he watched the exchange. Roman and Dean needed their moment, and he was going to let them have it. He pretended to busy himself reading the labels on bottles until Dean called his name in his wounded, little-boy voice. He practically tripped over his own feet reaching them, settling into a squat on Dean's other side.

"You didn't have to stomp so hard."

"Sorry about that. Force of habit, you know…"

Dean swatted at his head, and Seth ducked quickly. They both started laughing, which made Roman laugh too. Once they'd all managed to develop new sets of abs from that, Dean narrowed his eyes at Roman, his focus renewed. "So what was that all about?"

Roman swallowed. "Uhhh…"

"I'm not helping you, I'm trying to get back on his good side," Seth interjected.

"You have that face again!" Dean cried, pointing at Roman.

"It's really killing me, Dean…"

"No! My hair is fine. Thin, but fine!" He paused. "Wait, did that sound right?"

"It's too fine! I don't want to you to walk around bald before you're fifty."

"I'm close enough to it, so shut up." Dean patted the bangs hanging over his eyes protectively.

"You just have to sit in the chair and let me work my magic. That's all."

"While all those people out there gawk at me? I told you when you decided to open this joint and I'm telling you again now: I'm not here for this, Ro."

Roman heaved a defeated sigh. "OK. I won't push it. Just…come back with us. Without trying to bite anyone."

"What?" Seth yelped. "After you made me stomp him and hog-tie him?"

"It's his head. He should be free to refuse."

"That's the last time I 'take one for the team'," Seth grumbled.

"You said that last time," Dean commented off-handedly. He stood up and stretched, bones cracking audibly as they returned to their normal positions. "OK, let's go."

Roman gave him a critical once-over. "We need to fix you up first."

Dean looked down at his clothes, which were wrinkled and untucked in places from all his struggling. Roman straightened his shirt, fussing like the mother hen he had always been. Seth recovered Dean's suit jacket from the floor and brushed the dust off it carefully before slipping it over his shoulders.

Dean ruffled his hair in self-consciousness to fluff it up and make it look thicker.

"It's a losing battle, Dean."

"It should be me."

"No, me."

"Like you two have a chance. It's obviously me."

"Fat chance. You were late on the first day!"

"Well, it's not going to be me cleaning up the blood and guts in there. So I call dibs on the first undertime," Corey deadpanned as he cleaned up his blade. He had finished grooming Luke, and the Wyatts were now sitting together, sipping soda. The three stylists made mental notes to burn those cups as soon as the creepy trio had left. Chris had taken his CD out of the sound system, shucked off his blinking jacket, and scurried off, saying something about how he was very in demand, and had another gig to get to, and didn't want to witness dead bodies.

Fandango and Adam both glared at Corey. "Dude, your work ethic SUCKS. No way you're next in line."

"I can't believe I just might win by default," Summer complained to Paige.

"Wait, what do you mean you're going to win by default?"

"Well, if Dean Ambrose has killed him before the results are announced, then Fandango and I win."

"That's not how it works!" Paige sputtered indignantly.

"So Steph," Triple H was saying conversationally to his wife, "if Roman doesn't make it back out alive, what do you think of making a new investment?"

"I don't know, Hunter—can we sustain the maintenance? I mean, he really went all out with the design. His bills must be through the roof."

"We could always get The Rock to make an appearance. One of those would pay the utilities for a year."

"We'd have to ask him to grow his hair back out."

The door suddenly swung open. Fandango, Adam, and Corey began calculating how much overtime it would take to clean up the mess in the storeroom.

Three men, apparently whole, walked out, arms around each other's shoulders, laughing quietly at some private joke. Triple H huffed a sigh of disappointment as they stopped in front of him.

"Sorry about that," Roman said, grinning widely. "We're ready for the results now."

"We lost the mood after you decided to go get the nutcase," Triple H grumbled. "I need a minute to get it back." He cleared his throat. "Roman and Fandango, please bring your models back up here."

"Come on, Hunter, it's getting late," Stephanie complained. "We still have important business functions to attend and careers to kill."

Triple H sighed in resignation. "OK, OK. The winner of this contest by a hair, ROMAN REIGNS!" he boomed.

Paige and Seth jumped up and down, both looking extremely smug. Dean threw his arms around Roman's neck, holding him tightly and beaming like a small sun. Summer sank down onto the nearest couch, looking crushed, and Fandango hung his head. He felt more disappointed than he had expected to be, considering how he had been expecting to lose anyway.

Roman disentangled himself from Dean's limbs, stood before Roman, and extended a large hand. "Well-played. Now that's what I wanna see."

"Uh, you did?"

"There's no fun in squashing you," his boss replied smoothly. "I can do that anytime. Unlike some people, I reward guys who give me a good match when it counts."

Fandango exhaled as Adam and Corey patted him on the back.

"Summer, make an appointment with Seth tomorrow if you still want to negotiate the terms of your contract," Roman added. Summer's jaw dropped in shock.

"But she lost!" Paige protested, aghast.

"She'd still look good on a poster."

"Well, our job here is done." Stephanie rose gracefully from her seat and checked her hair in the mirror one more time before beckoning to her husband. "Hunter! Let's go!"

"Yes ma'am." Triple H made to leave, but as he passed Roman, he muttered, "I'll get in touch within the week."

Roman inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. Dean scowled at Triple H and his back until the front door closed behind both.

"Still hate that guy," he hissed.

"He's useful." Roman checked his watch. "Time to close shop."

"But it's still early," Adam pointed out.

"We're running out of food," Roman replied. "And I have a special project that needs tweaking. Fandango, I'm putting you in charge. Those tables need clearing—get to it."

Fandango looked pleased with himself for a minute before the rest of Roman's missive sunk in.

"Wait, what? I have to clean up?"

"You lost." Roman smirked. "And make sure it's all spotless by the time I come back."

"I told you, Ro, you don't need to close up early for me—ow!" Seth winced as Roman leaned his weight on a foot that was suddenly on top of Seth's.

Bray, who had risen to conduct his waiting room choir again following Chris's quick departure, looked put out. He picked up his hat. "Time to go home, boys. We'll be back. For anyone who can make it, choir practice on Saturdays at 6, the swamp."

Erick waved to Adam to get his attention and put his right hand to his ear in a motion of calling. Adam grinned and waved back. "As long as you've got phone lines over there!"

Luke sighed as he ran a hand over his trimmed beard. "Oh man, now I have to give this suit back."

"You haven't got use for a suit in the swamp, Harper," Bray reminded him.

"Can I at least get a new shirt for my new hair?"

"Fine, we'll go shopping after this. Wasteful disciples."

Luke fistpumped subtly as they went out the door.

As soon as the last guest and the caterers had left the salon, Roman, Seth, and Dean followed. Fandango, Adam, and Corey stared at the messy tables.

Corey rubbed his hands together. "OK, here's how this works. You two clean, and I'm going to the kitchen."

"WHAT?" Fandango and Adam glowered at their colleague.

"Because boys, I'm going to make cupcakes to celebrate."

Adam sucked in his breath while Fandango's eyes widened. "Your legendary cupcakes?"

"The very same."

"You got yourself a deal!"

A couple of hours later, the three of them were sprawled across the couches, blissfully chowing down on salted caramel, red velvet, and pumpkin cupcakes.

"Too bad boss man is missing this," Fandango quipped as he started on his fourth.

"This is so good!" Adam added.

"They'll be fine, I left them a cupcake each." Corey mumbled around a mouthful. "They can just fight over who gets which flavor."

A/N: Very sorry for the two-month wait, guys! Between the start of overtime season at work, some personal life events, and bouts of sickness and typing laziness. I wasn't able to really get a feel for this chapter for a while.

I bring some sad news, unfortunately-the next chapter is going to be the last. Thank you so much for the faves and follows and reviews, and I hope we can go out with a bang! Love you all.