When you put the weird brains of BrodieBlue and myself together...this is what you get. We're having a blast writing this and we hope you all enjoy it as much as we do.

"Yes, Daddy, I get it. Money doesn't grow on trees."

Natasha sat cross-legged on the floor of her hotel room. It was a swanky place, but she felt that she deserved the best. It wasn't like she was really paying for it anyway. She sighed at her cell phone that sat next to her. She and her father had been arguing about money for the past twenty minutes via speakerphone while she had been making her sign for the Raw show that night. She had almost finished making the sign and had been finished with her father since the conversation had begun.

She added the final touches to her sign, some tastefully applied glitter to outline every letter of 'Ambrose smells', but she botched it when her father raised his voice on the phone. She was 24 years old and was still getting shouted at by her father!

"Daddy! There's no need to shout! You're messing up my sign!"

She might have heard her father then berate her for not putting her creative mind to better uses but she couldn't be certain he had said that as she wasn't properly listening to him. She folded her arms across her chest triumphantly to admire the finished sign after she had carefully wiped away the excess glitter that had oozed from her glitter glue on to the bold black letters. Dean Ambrose was bound to notice that sign, wasn't he? How could he miss it when she'd be sitting in the front row?

"Yeah, that'll show him!" she accidentally shouted out loud.

She could hear her father questioning what she was saying over the phone, but she decided to put an end to the conversation. It was just going in circles and she wasn't getting her way.

"Nothing, Daddy. Look, I have to go or I'll be late for the show. Love you!" She hit end call and fell back onto the floor.

Sometimes it was hard being Daddy's little princess. Sure, she had always received everything she had ever asked for and he always paid her credit card balance, but lately he'd been asking questions and paying closer attention to her account. She really didn't like him prying into her life like that. She really loved wrestling and had always wanted to travel and follow the WWE around the country, maybe even the world. Her father didn't exactly approve of that venture.

"Whatever. I get to sit front row and yell at those dumb Shield guys. They're jerks." She sat up and gazed lovingly at her sign. "This will definitely put Ambrose in his place!"

It was a shame she had no one to go with, though. She didn't even have a very small brother or sister to take along. That would have been nice, but Daddy's new wife wasn't the type who would ever have children, so that was that. As for Natasha's own friends, her high school friends had long since abandoned her. All, if not a few, had settled down, married a nice boy and popped out a baby already. In her inner circle, that had been everyone's aim. They all feared that their parents would cut the apron strings and cast them out into the big wide world as soon as they graduated, so they needed to find a man to support them when they left school. But Natasha's father was so much kinder to her. He had not cut off his support and Natasha was different, anyway. For some reason, she had failed to hold down a boyfriend or a job, so things had to be like this for her.

The one advantage of always being alone though was that she could do whatever the hell she wanted. If she wanted to take a sign saying 'Ambrose smells' to Raw she could without fear of embarrassing whoever she was going with. She picked up the finished sign in her hands and gave it a kiss. She was so proud of her handiwork.

"Eww!" she cried when she realized she had left a glossy smear on it and hastily tried to rub it off. "Oh well!" she shrugged when it would not budge and made haste to leave the hotel before she cut it too fine on the time.

The show had been going on for about an hour now and the adrenalin and excitement was coursing through her body. Thankfully the crowd had been a good one and she was really getting into the show, surrounded by her fellow fans. When those six familiar words echoed around the arena, she felt a slight chill run up her spine. This was her time! She held up her sign above her head proudly and full of confidence. She noticed some people across the ring pointing at the sign and laughing, but she didn't mind. She was glad that other people appreciated her brilliance.

The Shield boys hopped over the barricade and were pacing around the outside of the ring as Raw cut to a commercial. She dropped her sign to the front of her chest while she waited for the cameras to start filming again. She had to make sure her sign got a lot of TV coverage so that 'Ambrose smells' could maybe become a hashtag on twitter. That'd be awesome.

She was looking down at her sign, checking to make sure that the glitter was staying on properly when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that someone was staring at her. She looked up and her eyes locked with that smelly jerk himself.

His small, pinched mouth twisted into a smile when she looked back at him.

"Yeah, you smell!" Natasha shouted loudly.

She heard the people around her laughing. They were laughing at Ambrose and the truth of her sign.

Now all three of The Shield were looking at her. Yes! she internally yelled. She had pissed them all off so much she had got their attention. But she wasn't quite sure why they were all looking at her and smiling. She even saw Ambrose cup his hand around Rollins' ear and talk into it. Then Rollins broke away from him, putting a hand to his belly, he was laughing so hard. Perhaps they were laughing because Ambrose forgot to use deodorant today or something, so he actually did smell?

"I bet all three of you smell! I hate you, Shield!"

She noticed them refocus their attention away from her as the show came back from commercial. Minutes later, the match was underway and she was lost in the story of good versus evil, cheering the good guys and booing the bad guys.

At one point during the match, Ambrose had tried to interfere while he wasn't the legal man and got tossed out of the ring, hitting the barricade right in front of her. She stood up and looked down at him lying on the ground.

"You suck, Ambrose! Your hair is stupid!"

He looked up at her, his eyes narrow and his face contorted in pain, and she suddenly felt a small rush of butterflies in her stomach. Up close and in person, he was a pretty good looking guy, she realized. His eyes were oddly mesmerizing and she kind of actually liked his messy hair. Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all.

"It looks OK today though," Natasha mumbled and actually lowered the sign she had been holding so high and so proud.

She looked away from Ambrose and felt her face blushing slightly. She hoped that Ambrose had heard her muttered half apology. He was a human being after all. She knew she would feel quite hurt if somebody told her she had stupid hair. So rather than act like a baby about it, she lowered her sign to prop it against her chair and reached over the barricade like everybody else was doing to pat his shoulder. He felt rather nice and warm. She then raised her hand to her nose and sniffed it. It didn't smell bad. Perhaps he didn't smell either!

She eased up on the Ambrose hate for the rest of the night, but she continued to hold her allegiance to the heroes. She just didn't get quite as vocal against the villains. In the end, The Shield boys won the match and she couldn't feel entirely sad about it. Sure, she was upset that the good guys didn't triumph over The Shield's so-called "justice", but she was glad that Ambrose didn't have a loss that night to pile on to the verbal abuse she had given him.

The rest of the show was a lot of fun and by the end, her throat hurt a bit from all that cheering and yelling. She decided to head across the street to a nearby bar after the show to wet her throat.

She pulled herself up onto a stool by the crowded bar and ordered herself a white wine spritzer. She had been sitting there for about an hour, playing on her phone and sipping her third drink, when a handful of the wrestlers plowed through the door.

She was the only person at the bar, and it seemed like in the entire place, craning her neck to see what wrestlers had filed in. She could not believe that there were no wrestling fans here! The place was only a street or so away from the arena.

She spotted Antonio Cesaro. He was another wrestler she did not like, being naturally drawn to the faces. He was also balding and she found that really unattractive in men. Then, oh no, was he with The Shield?! She lowered herself in her bar stool. She didn't want them to see her and remember that she had been the girl holding the 'Ambrose smells' sign! However, she still kept her beady eyes on them. She thought they would approach the bar immediately, but they did not. They stood by the door and she could see Ambrose gesturing around the place idly with his hand, then Reigns slapped him on the back and they all went in separate directions. That was odd. If she had any friends to go to a bar with she'd definitely want to sit with them! She thought she would be safe to get back to sipping her drink again, but she saw a tall figure approach from the corner of her eye. She caught a glimpse of black leather. Hadn't Ambrose been wearing a black leather jacket?

Sure enough it was him and he had sat on a bar stool right next to her. He was so close that if she moved her arm even a tiny bit, it would brush against his.

"Hi!" she said perkily.

Ambrose turned slowly. He sucked in his lips like he was on the defensive before turning his gaze fully on her, then the hostile look slipped from his face to be replaced by a slowly spreading smile.

"It's you. Sign girl," he said.

"Yeah. Sorry about those things I said at the show."

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrow. "Oh. The stuff about me smelling and my hair being stupid? I'll have you know that I smell amazing and my hair is wonderful."

"I know that now."

He took a long sip from the beer that he had ordered moments earlier. She leaned over and inhaled deeply near him, smiling at how fresh and clean he smelled. He must have showered very thoroughly before he came out to the bar.

He placed the beer down and looked at her, a bit stunned. "Did you seriously just sniff me?"

"Um…maybe?"

He put his head in his hand and she saw his body shaking lightly as he laughed.

"That's a new one."

"Would you mind if I bought you a drink to apologize for the things I said?"

"There's no need," he said, flicking his hand dismissively.

"Oh okay. Well I am sorry. Do you forgive me?" Natasha asked, hopefully.

He only frowned at her, but when she kept looking at him in wide-eyed innocence, he finally answered her.

"I forgive you," he said dismissively. He then downed the rest of his drink in one long gulp, as she watched his apple bob in wonderment. That was quite a cool trick. Then she saw him shift on his stool. Oh no! He was going to leave!

"One more Coors, please! No, make it two!" Natasha shouted at the bar man.

It really mattered to her that Ambrose forgave her. Ambrose didn't seem to appreciate the gesture, however.

"I'll get them," he said to the barman who was frowning at the rude way in which Natasha had placed her order.

"Please let me. It's a peace offering," Natasha smiled sweetly at him.

"I don't want you to spend your hard earned money on me. I don't mean to sound like a dick, but I probably earn far more than you. It's on me," he assured her.

"You're right, I don't earn anything at all," Natasha shrugged.

He took a small sip, but swallowed loudly. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have a job. I have a credit card that my Daddy pays for and I can buy whatever I want. So please, it's on my Daddy tonight."

She giggled at the end of her sentence. He turned his head to the side and rolled his eyes.

"Is that like a sex thing? Like you have a "Daddy" dom or something?" He asked as he swirled the beer around in the glass. "Although I don't know why he'd let you out alone to a bar," he mumbled under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Guess not then. Still, I can't make you use your Dad's money for these beers. But, uh…there might be another way you can repay me for those cruel things you said to me."

"Really? That would be great!"

"Give me a moment. I gotta go ask the other guys something. You stay here…cutie."

Natasha watched him walk over to Seth and Roman and she turned back to face the bar. She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the bright red that had taken control of her cheeks. He had called her cutie! She never thought that she would get excited hearing that come out of his mouth, but he was just so handsome and that feeling of butterflies from earlier was starting to come back.

Natasha took fast sips from her beer for want of something to do while she waited. She ran over in her mind the ways she could repay him for being mean to him. Perhaps he wanted literal repayment, an interest-free loan for a big purchase maybe? Her Daddy was always giving people loans; that was his business apparently. When she was deep in such thoughts, she felt a warm heavy hand on her shoulder.

She turned to see that the owner of the hand was Dean. She could call him Dean, right? They were at least acquaintances now, perhaps even friends. She smiled up at him warmly and felt that now familiar flush spread across her face again when he smiled back at her.

"I need a smoke. Will you come outside with me?" he asked her.

"Sure!" Natasha was keen to agree.

"Awesome," he said and smiled again. Then he led the way through the crowded bar, but he moved pretty fast and not in the direction of the outback that she thought he would take a smoke in.

"Where are we going?" she shouted at his back.

In response, he looked over his shoulder at her, then held out his hand behind him. Natasha took it and she traipsed behind him out of the pub, through the front entrance and down the street.

"Dean," she said uncertainly, and repeated her question. "Where are we going?"

He turned around abruptly and she bumped into him. She felt the soft leather of his jacket against her cheek for a second and then jumped back a few inches. He pressed his finger against her mouth.

"Shhh…you'll see, little girl. I promise that you'll enjoy this. You just have to trust me. Do you?"

He softly rubbed his thumb across her lips and she could feel herself getting a little wet between her legs. She felt lost in those dreamy eyes and at that moment, she realized that she would probably say yes to anything he asked of her. She so desperately wanted to make things right between the two of them, even if they wouldn't ever see each other again after, so she knew what her answer had to be.

"Yes, Dean. I-I trust you."

He smiled charmingly and lightly pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb. "Good. I'm glad. Now keep following me, we're almost there."

After another minute of walking, he sharply turned down an empty alley between two buildings. There was a large lamppost right at the mouth, so the entrance was dimly lit. He pushed her against the cold brick, his warm chest pressed closely against her. He leaned his mouth in toward her ear and she could feel the hairs on her neck stand up.

"This is how you're going to repay me, cutie." He staggered backwards and leaned against the wall on the other side.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked dumbfounded.

"Come on, quit fooling around. You know what I mean," he said and beckoned her to him with his hand.

His meaning was still not clear to Natasha but it became very clear when he unzipped his jeans.

"It's very cold outside, though," Natasha said, gulping.

It wasn't that she wasn't willing to do that one day, but it was very soon, wasn't it? He'd only just met her. Why did he think she would give him a blow job already? She wasn't even the kind of girl who slept with guys on first dates. Surely there was some other way she could repay him.

"We'll soon warm up," Dean said huskily.

"People might see us though," she answered weakly. Her resolve to not do this was already buckling under his luminescent blue eyes that shone in the dim light the lamp was giving off.

"Only our shapes. And does anybody know you around here?" he asked.

Natasha shook her head.

"If anyone might be recognized, it's me," he said, smiling smugly. Then he pulled out his hard cock that had been forming a bulge in his jeans.

Natasha stared at it and closed her eyes against the sudden rush of hot warm fluid she felt coming out of her pussy. Deep down she knew she was going to leave this alley having sucked Dean Ambrose's cock of her own free will.

She slowly stepped toward him, her eyes glancing quickly to the street in hopes no one was nearby.

"That's a good girl," he purred when she was finally right in front of him.

He had been slowly stroking his cock with one hand and he took his other hand, grabbed her shoulder and pushed her hard to her knees. He held his cock out toward her mouth, and when she didn't immediately wrap her little pink mouth around his aching shaft, he rubbed the head against her lips, trying to encourage her to act.

She tilted her head up and looked at him with her big brown eyes and he nodded at her. She opened her mouth a little and flicked out her tongue at the head of his cock.

"That's it, take it in your mouth," he coaxed in a deeply rough voice that, for some reason, made her want to make him happy.

She slowly slid her entire mouth down his length. He was thicker than she was used to and he stretched her lips to the point of them hurting a little bit. She heard him sigh and lightly stroke her hair, which made her so happy and turned her on even more. She began to move her head back and forth, her mouth sliding up and down his cock. She placed one hand on his thigh to steady her and slipped the other up her skirt to feel just how wet she really was.

The gusset of her panties was soaked through. She knew this was turning her on, but she had no idea she liked it that much. She heard Dean grunt from above her.

"What are you doing? Are you touching yourself?"

Before Natasha could answer, she felt him tighten his fingers in her hair and push her head further down on to his dick. She screwed up her eyes and tried to resist the strong urge to gag when she felt him force his cock like a ramrod into her mouth. Unable to control the urge, she spluttered and he pulled her off his dick by her hair. The hair pulling hurt, but it was nothing compared to how badly she needed to breathe in lungfuls of cold air. Her wet mouth gaped open and she allowed the saliva that had built up in her mouth as she had been sucking him off to slide down her chin. She looked up at him and hoped he found the sight erotic.

"You're a dirty bitch," he growled.

"What?!" Natasha answered him in shock.

She was not used to being spoken to like this, especially when she was in the middle of giving a blow job.

"You heard me. You're drooling, dribbling all down your chin. You look like a fucking dog!"

Natasha flinched at his hard words."I'm sorry," she answered quietly.

She was afraid that she had disappointed him, that he did not like this repayment. He had been so nice before, she wasn't sure she liked this new side of Dean...

"Suck my dick," he ordered her. "And touch your pussy."

Had he forgiven her mishap then? Natasha gripped his jeans with her left hand and wiped the back of her offending mouth with her right hand before latching onto his dick again. She then pushed her right hand under her panties and stroked her slit. She gasped at how sensitive she was. If she had been in any doubt that she wasn't enjoying this, those doubts had now been driven away.

A faint moan escaped from her throat. She had never felt this good with any of her previous boyfriends. There was something about this man that caused her body to react in a very different way. She just couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her moans became louder and more frequent. She was no longer thinking about how anyone could walk past and see them right now. She felt like she was in a porno and she was acting accordingly.

Without warning, Dean pulled her mouth off of his cock again and smacked her on the side of the head.

"The fuck is wrong with you? Stop moaning like a fucking whore. If I wanted to hear you moaning right now, I wouldn't have my dick down your throat, now would I?"

He smacked her aside the head one more time before gripping the back of her head and thrusting into her mouth once again.

She returned to playing with her slick pussy while he thrust in and out of her pink lips, with only the occasional soft, quiet moan sneaking out. He didn't seem to notice or care about those. After a moment, she decided to look up so that she could see the look on his face. He had been quiet for a while, so she imagined that he had his head tilted back and his mouth open in a state of bliss.

What she saw was him playing on his phone. She stopped abruptly, causing him to look down at her with an annoyed look.

"Keep going," he said in a tone that insinuated that she was an idiot.

She started up again, but kept her eyes fixed on him. His eyes glanced over at the alley opening and he smiled and gave a nod of his head before going back to looking at his phone.

Why would he smile and nod his head? She thought. Then it came to her.

"Did you see someone?!" she pulled away from his cock to ask in astonishment.

"Uh huh"' he nodded and didn't take his eyes off his phone. It was like he didn't even care that they had just been seen doing something sexual.

"Are you gonna get back to work?" he asked, looking up from his phone when she did not 'get back to work' after he had answered her question.

"Don't you care? They might have seen me!" she said in anguish.

"Does that bother you?" he asked.

He seemed much more interested in her now and was now holding his phone casually by his side in his right hand.

"Of course it does!" Natasha said, but she hissed the words quietly, afraid that people would hear her too.

"Then you shouldn't suck guys' cocks down alleyways should you?" He then grabbed his neglected cock in his left hand and slapped her in the face with it. "Should you?" he asked again.

Natasha's face was burning, even in this cool evening air. "No," she answered, so quietly that it was a wonder he could hear her.

"You should be very ashamed of yourself," he said, shaking his head and curling his lip in disgust.

"Do you want this to be over?"

Natasha refrained from giving any answer.

"Of course you don't!" he snorted, then grabbed her hair again and pushed her back down on his cock. "Now make me cum."

She hesitated for a second. There was a battle between her good girl image that she always tried to maintain and her obvious carnal lust for this strange man in front of her.

Lust won. She could worry about sweeping this under the rug later. Daddy knew some important people, so if this turned out to cause some problems, he could help out his little princess.

She tightened her lips around his dick and began to work much faster than before. She had seen his angry side and didn't want to invoke it any further. She wanted to see that cute nice guy side she had briefly seen in the bar. She wanted him to pat her on the head and tell her that she was a good girl. Her hand returned to its position between her legs, her fingers swirling tight circles around her swollen clit. She enjoyed sucking his cock, but she wished that he would pick her up off the ground, wrap her legs around his waist and fuck her hard against the brick wall.

She was a bit stunned by these thoughts, honestly. She had never really had such a depraved mind around other boys. There was an aura about Dean Ambrose. She had never realized it watching him on TV. He was just a bad boy jerk type, which honestly wasn't what she was normally attracted to. She liked clean cut boys in suits who went to law or business school. Those were the kinds of boys who could take care of her and be a good father to their children. Not a scrappy slacker like Ambrose. But when she was near him…she just couldn't think clearly any more.

"Fuck! Oh Fuckkkkk! You keep doing that! Yes! Like that!" Dean burst out.

At first Natasha had listened to every outburst, trying to preserve it in her mind for when she would next want a bad man's attention because she promised herself she would not do this again. She would continue to date good boys and she'd draw on her memories of Dean when their gentle caresses could not get her to that place she wanted to get to.

After much hard work Dean pushed Natasha away, nearly making her fall back on her heels, but she managed to stay on her knees, though it was tempting to lean back. Her knees were aching and when she looked down at them she saw they were scrapped and red raw, on seeing that she became aware of the throbbing sting in them. Her tights were bound to be ruined. What would she look like by the time she left this alley?

Then Dean's hand was back in her hair again and he was holding his dick, pointing it in her face. She squeezed her eyes closed, suddenly realizing what he was going to do. She didn't know whether she wanted it to happen or not. She had never taken a face full of cum before, but right now she thought she would do anything. Anything to perhaps earn herself a reward at the end of this. She needed him to fuck her, to touch her. She'd never been so wet.

He pumped his hand back and forth over his cock a few times until he came, groaning out obscenities as he did. His warm sticky semen splattered onto her face and she could feel it slowly dripping down her cheeks. She could smell his cum and she found it oddly intoxicating. She always hated the smell of sex. It was so vulgar and dirty and it seemed to get everywhere, but right now she was so far gone in her arousal that she didn't give a fuck anymore.

She dipped a finger into his cum and sucked the finger into her mouth. The thought of tasting a man's semen had always made her gag, but she wanted to taste him. She wasn't quite sure how to describe it, but he tasted delicious. She quietly moaned as she sucked on her finger.

She was surprised when a bright light suddenly flashed in her face. She looked up and saw Ambrose smiling and holding his phone above her.

"Good girl. Just beautiful, darlin'," he said with a wink in her direction. She was too busy blushing from being winked at to completely register his next sentence. "The boys will love this one."

She smiled back at him and bit her lip, hoping that he'd help her up and give her a reward for being such a good girl. Instead, he mussed her hair and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and heading toward the street.

"Thanks for that. Take it easy….whatever your name is."

"It's Natasha, Dean."

"Mmmkay. See ya, Natalie."

"Hey wait! Have you got any tissues?!" Natasha yelled at Dean's retreating back.

So much was whirling through her mind. That she had just given a man a blow job in an alley, but not just any man, Dean Ambrose. Then he'd left her there without giving anything back in return, all alone. She had no idea how to get back to the bar they had left together, her face was covered in cum, and her knees were bloody. If she did know how to get back, she wouldn't want to be seen like this anyway. Suddenly she felt very alone. She wished she had someone, but the only person she had was her Daddy and he'd be ashamed to see her like this. She was so scared that she started to cry. She hid her face in her hands and slumped back to her knees on the hard concrete ground.

"I don't have any tissues, but why don't we use your tights," she heard Dean say, just when she thought she would be here alone all night, frightened and lost.

He was a savior. Just what she needed. She just nodded her head obediently at his suggestion. It was always easier to let someone else make decisions for her. When she made no move to take them off though, she heard Dean let out a sigh before putting his hands up her skirt and pulling them down from around her hips.

"You can do the rest yourself," he said when he tugged them down to the middle of her thighs.

Her knees stung when the tights became unglued from her scrapes but she kicked off her shoes and took the tights all the way off so that she could get to work making herself look presentable again. Dean stood by her with his arms folded and looked down at her while she wiped her face. She would occasionally look back at him and smile, but he never smiled back. He only frowned even more.

"How are you getting home?" he asked her when she balled up her ruined tights and threw them into the gutter.

"I'm not going home. I'm staying in a hotel-"

Dean cut her off impatiently.

"Then how are you getting to the hotel?"

"I was going to get a cab."

"I'll walk you to the cabs," he said, giving her a good look over before walking away from her again.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," he threw at her over his shoulder while Natasha had to jog to keep up with the pace he was setting.

They walked up to the main road, where the cabs waited this late at night. It was an eerily silent and uncomfortable few minutes, especially after the scene they were walking away from. As she slowly jogged beside him, a flood of thoughts raced through Natasha's mind. Was he really a nice guy because he didn't abandon her when she asked for his help and right now he was escorting her to the cabs? Or was he a horrible guy because he had been planning to leave her there in the first place? He also took a picture of her with his cum on her face, which she imagined had not been a very flattering photo. Maybe he was a little of both and things weren't always completely black and white?

She had to leave those questions be for the moment when they reached the main strip. He knocked on the window of one of the cabs, jerking the driver out of his bored stupor. The driver nodded and Dean opened up the door to let her inside. He put his cigarette between his lips and made a large gesture into the car with both of his hands. She stepped toward the cab and stopped before she got inside. She turned and looked at him, smiling.

"Thank you for your help," she said meekly.

She raised her head up and stood on her toes, trying to hint at the fact that she was open for a kiss goodnight. That was always the ritual she had whenever she was leaving an intimate situation. That was just proper manners, right? When he just stared back at her with no reaction whatsoever, she got the hint and quickly got into the cab.

"Will I ever see-?" she started asking, but was cut off when he quickly shut the door. He gave the driver a head nod and turned to head back to the bar.

The driver stared at her through the rearview mirror until he got her attention.

"Oh. Sorry, sir. The Hilton, please."

The cab pulled out into the street, heading toward the hotel

"I wonder if I'm ever going to see him again," she pondered under her breath.

But of course, she would.