"Welcome back Dean!" someone called from behind him as he made his way down the halls of the arena.

"Yup!"

"Hey Dean! Interview in 20."

"Got it!" he pushed through the crowded halls into the men's locker room, whistling to himself.

The door swung opened and Dean stopped in his tracks. A pair of big brown eyes met him in the mirror, unmoving. They held steady for a moment, silence filling the room.

"You're back," Seth said finally.

"Yeah, I'm fucking back," Dean spat.

"So we're going right there, huh?" he turned towards Dean, pulling a pair of boots out of his bag. "With the hostility?"

"The hostility? You put my head through cement!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Seth shouted, the sound echoing through the metal of the lockers, "I'm sorry."

"Like hell you're sorry!"

"It wasn't even my idea, alright?"

"Then who's was it?"

Seth looked down and muttered, "Randy's."

Dean scoffed, "yeah go ahead and blame it on your big brother. That ain't anything new."

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to apologize, if you hadn't noticed."

"I'm not interested in your apology," Dean shook his head, claiming a locker as far from Seth as possible.

"Fine by me."

"Fine."

"I said fine!" Seth snapped.

"Fine!" Dean snapped back.

"Jesus you two," Roman came in from the showers, flip flops on his feet and a towel around his waist. "We're at work."

"Yeah, well this is personal," Dean wrinkled his nose. "You're not honestly telling me you're cool with him suddenly."

Roman looked from Dean to Seth and held his gaze on him for a moment.

"Course not. But we can co-exist."

"Well I'd prefer to co-exist somewhere else," Dean slammed his locker closed. "And I've got somewhere to be."

Seth rolled his eyes as Dean walked passed, and it set him off. He lunged towards him, his fist clenched. Seth flinched, his back up against the locker, but in a second, Dean felt an arm across his chest, holding him back.

"Stand down brotha, Dean, listen to me," Roman looked him square, that scolding scowl on his face, "keep it together."

Dean looked back towards Seth, "keep him away from me."

With that, he stormed out of the room, not looking behind him, no desire to see Roman's disappointed sigh or Seth's sheepish guilt. More people along the halls tried to get his attention, but he just wasn't in the mood for pleasantries right now. He found the interview room, where Tom Phillips, situated on a stool, was waiting for his cue. He nodded to Dean and the producer counted down.

"Joining me now, Dean Ambrose,"

"Hey Tom," he sauntered into frame, keeping his composure, he had a reputation to maintain.

"First of all, you've been out of action for two weeks with a concussion, how are you doing?"

"Oh I am just peachy," Dean smirked, "I would be more worried about that snake in the grass Seth Rollins if I were you."

"Well that was actually my next question, what do you plan on doing about Seth Rollins?"

"What am I not planning on doing to Seth Rollins? He can run and hide behind the Authority all he wants but I am coming for him and when I catch him, he is going to wish he was never even born. I know Seth Rollins better than anyone and I know exactly how to get inside his smarmy little head. Lucky for him, I have other goals at the moment, but trust me, he is never cashing in that briefcase as long as I'm around."

"What other goals are that?"

"Sheamus took my US title from me in a match that was rigged by the goddamn Authority, and I intend to get it back."

"So then how do you feel about Cesaro winning a number-one-contendership last week?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean's head snapped, he hadn't really been looking at Tom this whole time.

"Last Friday, on SmackDown? Cesaro defeated RVD to earn himself a chance at Sheamus' title."

"Last Friday?"

Dean's eyes widened, thinking back to where he was last Friday instead of watching SmackDown. His mind wandered back to Renee's hips against his in the hot, sweaty bar. The music pumping in his ears as his fingers lightly grazed her exposed skin. It made his heart pump faster just thinking about it now. He shook it off.

"Guess I wasn't watching."

XXX

He slumped through the door Tuesday night, it was late, she'd be asleep by now. Trying to be delicate, he resisted the urge to slam the door behind him.

"Fuck!" Dean collapsed on his bed the moment he got in. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" he screamed into his pillow.

His whole body ached from the long drive home, but it was better than hanging out in the hotel any longer. How the hell did he manage to lose his championship opportunity while he was on the shelf? How dare Stephanie give it to RVD and Cesaro when he didn't even have the chance to try? He could've beaten both of those guys, easy, he knew it was true.

"Fuck this," he tossed his jacket onto a chair and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

What he needed now was just to sleep. But even as he was laying on his fancy mattress, staring up at the skylight at 3 in the morning, it didn't come. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate, but the drive must've given him a second wind.

Rain started beating down, then thunder and lightning. Dean glanced towards the door, Moxley would nudge it open any moment now, he hated thunderstorms. After a few minutes of waiting, Dean sighed. It wasn't like he had anything better to do right now than look for the puppy.

"Moxley?" he whispered into the room as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Mox? Where are you boy?"

Dean looked under the big arm chair and behind the sofa, nothing. The kitchen was empty, so was the hallway.

"Moxley?" he whispered again, glancing into the spare room as another flash brightened up the hallway.

It caught his eye, the big windows of Renee's room through her open door. His breath caught as he saw her there, curled up in the teal sheets, Moxley's head tucked under her arm.

"Hmm?" she raised her head as the lightning lit the room.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean…I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's alright," she squinted at him, "hey."

"Hey. I, uh, I was looking for Mox."

"He's here."

"Yeah…he's scared of thunderstorms."

"I know,"

"Normally he sleeps with me…"

She giggled, "sorry bud,"

"That's alright…if he likes you better… anyway, night."

He turned to go back to his own room, already feeling like he was violating her privacy as she lay there in a tight black spaghetti strap tank top.

"You wanna join us?"

"Huh?" he turned back. Had he heard her right?

"If you're jealous," she smirked, giggling lightly, "it's a party."

"Yeah…alright."

She scooted over and he nervously climbed in next to her, sandwiching Moxley between them. He watched her carefully, pulling the comforter up to his chest, but she didn't flinch.

"Comfortable?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah thanks." He turned his attention to the dog, "you mad at me bud?"

Dean went to scratch behind his ear but Moxley got up and hopped over to the other side of Renee, curling up there again.

"Oh c'mon! I'm sorry!" without thinking, he reached over her, his arm across her waist, to pet Moxley.

His breath caught as he looked up at her eyes. It hung there for a moment before he pulled back quickly.

"Sorry."

Renee shook her head, "it's fine." She eyed him as he blushed, "you don't have to stay, if you don't want to. I just thought we could all use the company."

"Yeah?"

She turned onto her side towards him, "I saw Raw last night."

"Right," he sighed, "work sucked."

"Same."

"Brad?"

"At a town hall meeting,"

"Welcome to the lonely hearts club."

"Hm," she rolled over again, towards Moxley, and closing the space between them a bit.

He gulped, his eyes still on her back, the arch of her spine and a raised beauty mark on the nape of her neck, and reached over her again. His hand found Moxley's soft ears and he didn't run away this time, but Dean wasn't looking at him.

"You sure this is okay?"

"Dean-" she sighed and looked back at him. She'd probably never admit it, but he could see the tears building up. "Will you just. Just don't ask me questions I can't answer. Just be here, just-"

"Hold you?"

"It sounds really pathetic when you say it like that."

He wrapped his arm tighter around her and pulled her close. Her perfume filled his lungs, he'd been dreaming about it since last week. It was soft and fresh, and part of him never wanted to smell anything ever again.

"That makes two."

She chuckled, "thanks,"

"Mhmm," he sighed, letting her hair fall across his pillow. It'd been a long time since he spent the night with a woman, it felt foreign and yet familiar.

"You're all stiff," she said with a laugh.

"Sorry, been a while," he shifted around, trying not to be obvious about tipping his hips away from her.

"No worries," she burrowed in further.

"Hey, you uh, you know that you're my best friend, don't you?"

"Yeah?" she looked back at him, and eyebrow raised, "yeah I guess you're mine too."

He smiled at that, couldn't help it.

"Good."

"Yeah, good. You want some sleep now, best friend?"

"Goodnight, Renee."

"Night, Dean."

XXX

Dean woke, groggily, as the windows poured light onto his face. He groaned, glancing around through squinted eyes. The windows were covered in fog and rain drops from the storm, casting a hazy glow over the otherwise dark room. A small alarm clock sat on the table next to the bed, reading 8:20.

"Shit." Dean nudged her lightly, "Renee, it's past 8."

"Hmm?" she barely lifted her head from the pillow.

"It's past 8. Don't you have to go?"

She chuckled, "not anymore. Got canceled, remember?"

"Oh."

"I have Wednesdays off now."

"Right."

"Almost working 40 hours like a normal person."

"What even is that?" he laughed, then turned solemn, "sorry."

"Don't be," she turned onto her side again, "go back to sleep."

"Here?"

"If you want."

"I uh…" he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, "I should walk Mox."

"Okay." She curled up under the covers and didn't protest any further, so he slipped out of her bed.

Slipping on some sneakers, he felt his arm hair sticking straight up. He'd never done this before, woken up with a woman who he hadn't slept with. Did anyone do that? Did friends curl up side by side because they were both lonely and hurting? Was that what it meant to be her best friend?