Disclaimer: I don't own Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, or Seth Rollins, they are the property of the WWE and/or the actors/sports entertainers that portray them. This story is for entertainment purposes only. Jessica and Leah are my creations only and any resemblance to them and any real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Part V (The conclusion)

Seth returned about half an hour later with a new knob for the laundry room, a picture frame that looked to be almost identical to the one with the broken glass, another six pack of chocolate Quick, and one of those rental carpet cleaners. "Let's get this finished," he said to Dean.

"Nice to see you, too, asshole," Dean muttered. "And you look like a fucking idiot." Seth had obviously "borrowed" one of Roman's shirts, to replace the one that had gotten puke on it, and the muscular man looked almost like a kid brother who had decided to wear one of his Dad's shirts. Seth had a good build, but Roman was bigger and it showed with that T-shirt.

"I hope you're keeping a running tally of what you owe the swear jar," Seth remarked, ignoring the comments about his appearance, "you know the rules."

"You know the rules," Dean grumbled, mocking Seth's voice. "And before you ask, yes, laundry is in the drier, I put it on permanent press, and that's all I did."

"Good." Seth had already started setting up the carpet cleaner. "You'd better pray this works, Dean, because if it doesn't, the jig is up." He checked to make sure the machine was working, then handed Dean a spray bottle. "I've vacuumed up all the bits I could, what's left is just the stuff I couldn't get out. You will spray this on the stain, wait the appropriate amount of time the bottle tells you to wait and then use the machine. While you are doing that, I'm going to fix the knob. You're lucky, the Home Depot had the exact same knob, so you might never have to explain how you broke it. To them, at least; to me is another story."

"We were playing Hot Lava," Dean mumbled as he sprayed the carpet with the solution Seth had given him. "And why do I have to clean the carpet? Why can't I fix the knob?"

"Have you ever replaced a door knob before?" Seth asked pointedly.

"No," Dean admitted.

"I rest my case. Clean the rug, I'll fix the door." He grabbed the picture with the broken glass too. "Oh, and I hope you're thirsty, because you have four bottles of Quick to drink tonight," he added, holding up the six pack.

"You can drink them," Dean said.

"I hate Quick."

"Then pour them down the sink," Dean muttered, even though he actually liked Nestles Quick.

"I'll save them, you might want them when you're done with the rug," Seth decided.

The room became quiet except for the sounds of the two men working at their tasks. When Seth finished installing the new door knob and replacing the glass in the frame, he came over to see how Dean was progressing. "Good job," he remarked, seeing that all the crayon was gone. "And it looks like you did the whole rug."

Dean nodded, scowling because he was upset that part of him liked hearing Seth's praise. "I had to," he explained. "That one area looked cleaner than the rest of the carpet, so I cleaned the whole thing. It's still a little damp, but hopefully, when Roman and Jessica get home, they won't lounge around in here. It'll be dry in the morning."

"Yeah, you'd better hope they go right to bed," Seth said, smiling.

"If they didn't fight while they were out, they will," Dean said. "You should have seen the way the two of them were looking at each other when they were going out."

"Let me guess, like a peanut butter sandwich-" Seth began.

"-In a famine," Dean finished. Despite himself, he grinned. This was a joke the two of them had shared before. Roman never thought it was that funny, so it was something between Seth and himself. And I'm going to miss that, he thought. I like that I had jokes that only Roman got, and jokes only Seth got. I even didn't mind that the two of them had jokes I didn't get. It was like it bonded us tighter together. I can't explain why, but it did.

Seth grinned too, then rubbed his hands together. "Let me get this in the car," he said, gathering up the carpet cleaning machine. "I'll be right back."

"You can just go," Dean suggested, still not willing to admit to Seth that he liked having him here and remembering he was still upset with the man. "I don't need you."

"Yeah, right," Seth rolled his eyes. "Wait here, Ambrose. When I get back, we're going to talk."

"You can't make me talk unless I want to!" Dean shouted after him, like a spoiled child. "I can do anything I want, I'm an adult!"

"Whatever!"

When Seth returned, only a few minutes later, he looked at Dean. "Okay, why are you being such a jerk?" he demanded.

"I'm not the jerk," Dean protested. "You're the jerk."

"Why?"

Dean wasn't expecting that, he was expecting Seth would plunge right into explanations about why he had done what he had, betraying Shield. You shouldn't be asking, you should be explaining, he thought. "Because-Because-" he sputtered.

"Because I did what needed to be done?" Seth folded his arms across his chest and looked at him. "Because I volunteered to be the one that ended Shield? If I recall, we weren't given an option on if Shield was going to break up, we were told that was fact. I didn't break up The Shield, I just agreed to be the fall guy."

"You agreed to be Authorities Bitch!" Dean snapped. "And you did it so eagerly. You-you practically leaped out of your seat like your ass was on fire. 'Oh, I'll do it Triple H'." He started using his Seth mocking voice, which was actually a pretty good imitation of how Seth spoke, or might have spoken, had someone put his balls in a nutcracker and was slowly applying pressure. "'I don't mind being the bad guy!'"

"I don't mind playing a bad guy," Seth said, his voice perfectly calm. "I liked it best when Shield were the out of control faction, when we were the guys who claimed they fought for "justice" but "justice" was whatever we said it was. We were bad ass-"

"-Now who owes the swear jar!" Dean said, smirking.

"-And I liked it," Seth continue, ignoring Dean's interruption. "I didn't want us to turn into the good guys. I was against that from the start."

"Oh? So you think you'll be one of the cool kids now?" Dean taunted. "Hanging out with Evolution? Being part of The Authority? You're not going to be cool, Seth. You're going to get to that lunch table and guess what? You're going to find out they're the most uncool group around. Yeah, they claim to be the bad asses, but look at them! They cheat! They whine all the time to Triple H and Stephanie!"

"Dean, I hate to break it to you," Seth said, "But wrestling? It's fiction, dude. It's scripted."

"Shut up!" Dean snapped. "You know what I mean! We were cool, Seth. Good guys or bad guys, no one was cooler than Shield. And you gave that all up to become someone who's going to go, 'yes Trips, no Trips, let me lick your boots, Trips.' Is that what you want? To portray some dumb ass lackey?"

"Why should you care?" Seth said, still perfectly calm. "You're going to be the vindictive SOB whose going to make my life a living Hell. They're going to let you draw on your crazy now, which the fans are going to eat with a spoon and beg for more. Yeah, I'm going to be the annoying kid brother to Authority, that's true, but you're going to be the cool, crazy guy. You're going to shine like the sun, Dean, and you know it. So, what is the problem?"

"Shield wasn't dead!" Dean yelled. "We dominated Evolution the night before! This was just a cheap trick to get a ratings pop!"

"Keep your voice down, you don't want to wake Leah and have her hear us arguing," Seth said, then shook his head. "No, better thought. We're going outside."

"We can't leave her alone-"

"-She'll be fine, we'll be right out in the patio," Seth said.

"No."

Seth rolled his eyes then reached out and grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him outside as if he were a disobedient schoolboy. Dean put up a token protest, but allowed himself to be lead. When they were standing on the patio, Seth let him go. "Now, listen, Ambrose, because I'm not going to explain this over and over again, like you're some moronic idiot. You have a brain, you use it every day, so pay attention. Someone had to break up Shield. There was no choice given in the matter. When we were told this, you and Roman were exchanging looks like you'd rather die than be the traitor. So, I volunteered. Am I unhappy I volunteered? Hell no. You can think Shield had more time left, but the clock was running out."

"No it-"

"It's not your time to speak, Ambrose, it's mine," Seth said, cutting him off. "You've been snipping at me since I got here, and now is your time to listen. As I was saying, the clock was running out. We were either going to end with a bang or a whimper and I'll be dipped in monkey shit if-"

"-Hah!" Dean interrupted, "Another dollar for the swear jar, you're getting as bad as me."

"Ambrose!" Seth reached out and grabbed Dean by the front of his T-shirt, twisting the fabric in his hands and pulling him so close that Dean could smell the mint gum he liked to chew on his breath. "SHUT UP AND LISTEN!"

Dean twisted away from his grasp, but said nothing, just glared at him.

"I didn't want to see Shield end with a whimper. So, I volunteered so we could end it with a bang. And it did end with a bang. Even you have to agree with that."

"Yeah, several bangs," Dean said. "All on Roman's and my bodies."

"Yeah, it did get rough," Seth agreed. "But it had to look good, and it did. We were the best freaking faction the WWE has ever seen, the best they probably ever will see. We deserved to go out with a bang so loud that it was heard around the world. And whether you like it or not, that's exactly what happened. Now you're going to be pushed to the moon and I'll be the one behind you doing most of the shoving. You're going to get the chance to show them how awesome you really are, both in the ring and on the mike. So, again, I'm asking you, Ambrose, What Is The Fucking Problem?"

Dean stared at him, nostrils flaring, half of him caught between wanting to punch Seth, and the other half wanting him to just go away; go away and leave him alone, because he didn't want to face up to this, he just wanted to be alone to nurse his hatred for Seth, to blame him for everything. "The fucking problem is-" he began, and felt something inside of him pushing forward, something he didn't want. He fought it back. "The fucking problem is," he repeated, "that it's over! It's all over. We're not Shield in the ring, we're not brothers outside the ring. You're going to be spouting hate about me and I'm going to be spouting it about you. Nobody plays the game of 'We pretend this is real so the bad guys hate the good guys and vice versa' anymore, so they won't tell us we can't be seen together out of the ring, but they don't like to make the fakery too obvious. So, while we can do what we want, you know and I know there will be a lot of frowning if we're seen off stage together, hanging out and getting along. They aren't going to put us on interviews together, they aren't going to ask us to sit at the same place to sign autographs, they aren't going to want us to show up together to any events. If Trips, Steph, and Vince had their way, you wouldn't be here, right now."

"But they don't have their way," Seth said. "I am here, aren't I? And if Stephanie and Hunter came in the door, Vince tap dancing right behind them, right now, they couldn't say a blessed word about it." He shook his head. "Man, sometimes I can't believe you, Ambrose. Do you know why I came here tonight?"

"Shouldn't the real question be; do I give a damn why you came here?" Dean countered. "Which I don't."

"I came here tonight to talk to Roman about how to handle things with you," Seth continued as if Dean hadn't said anything. "Because I knew after Monday night that you didn't get it and that even though this was all scripted, you were hurt."

"You could have tried to talk to me about it," Dean suggested, still angry. "You didn't have to run to Roman."

"Dean, I tried to text you early Tuesday morning, after Roman suggested I should," Seth reminded him. "And you suggested I use my Smart phone as a suppository, and then blocked my number. Do you remember that?"

Dean did remember it, now that Seth mentioned it. He had still been pretty angry when he got Seth's text and had flipped back a message. Seth was putting it rather eloquently, the message Dean had texted back was, 'Take your phone and cram it up your ass, Rollins.' "I was pissed," Dean said, his defense sounding stupid and childish to his own ears."

"Really? I never would have guessed." Seth said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "But, that's why I'm here. Because I'm worried about you, you dumb fuck." Normally, Seth tried to respect Roman's rules of not swearing in his house, but this was a really ridiculous situation, and they weren't technically in the house, they were in the back yard. "You're the one saying it's all over now. you're the one saying we're not friends. Not me, Ambrose. I'm still Seth. I'm still the guy who had your back. I'm not your Shield brother anymore, because there is no Shield. And I'm a Sports Entertainer doing my job, which right now is to go after you, but I'm still the same guy you shared a hotel room with all those times. I'm the same guy who got on planes with you, the same guy who probably rode a million miles in rental cars with you. We said once we were brothers by choice. I didn't choose to reject that. If you do, that's your business, but it's not mine."

"But you still wanted to end Shield!" Dean reminded him.

"What I wanted was to advance my career. I wanted to advance all our careers," Seth disagreed. "You think we could have kept Shield around longer, I thought it was time to end it. I won't lie about that. My goal was never to be a member of the best faction in Sports Entertainment, my goal is to become the best superstar the WWE has ever seen. Shield was a stepping stone, but at this point, we were clinging to that stone like it was an island and the water was rising. It was step on to the next stone or get swept away with the current. I won't get swept away. But that doesn't mean I stopped being your friend, it doesn't mean that I stopped being your brother by choice."

"Oh yeah?" Dean sniffed, hoping Seth heard it as one of those contemptuous sniffs, but thinking that probably wasn't the case. Knowing Seth, he was probably thinking that Dean had forgotten to take his allergy medication, which he had forgotten, but that was besides the point. Seth was always the master at remembering everything. Even Roman needed to make notes sometimes as to what they were supposed to do each day and at what time on the road. Not Seth. Seth used to keep his own schedule, and Dean's and Romans in his head, perfectly. And on top of that, he remembered the little things that everyone else in the world forgot, like that there was something in Florida, and most other hot, humid places that activated Dean's allergies, so he should really take Allegra when he was in one of those places. Or that Roman hated the smell of dial soap, so take the extra bars of soap in the hotels that weren't dial, so if a place did have dial, they could switch it.

"Yeah," Seth said, shaking his head. "Look, let's resolve this the easy way." He stepped back from Dean and braced himself. "Hit me."

Dean found his hand curling into a fist, but forced himself to loosen it. "Don't be an idiot," he mumbled, "This isn't RAW, you can't try that."

"Really?" Seth asked. "Funny, you seem to think that because it's on RAW or Smackdown it's real. I mean, just because I had to take you out on the show, you're now acting like it's real. Okay, so, hit me. I know you, Ambrose, you let it all churn up inside your guts until you have to do something about it, here's the something, hit me."

"No," Dean said. Part of him wanted to, but not if Seth was telling him it was all right. He wanted to sneak up behind him and sock him when he didn't expect it.

"Aw, scared?" Seth smirked. "Because you know I can kick your ass for real?"

"No you can't," Dean snapped.

"Really?" Seth snorted. "That's your problem, Ambrose, you think you're better than you really are. You always thought you were the tough guy of the Shield, but you weren't. Crazy, yes, but it's not an admirable trait to be crazy. They used to lock folks up for being crazy. You're not tough, you're not even special. Hell, they probably have medications to fix the type of crazy you are, but you won't try to find them, because that's all you have to make you unique. If you did fix that crazy, you'd find out you're just...nothing. A mid card wrestler who needs to be carried and pushed all the way. Fuck it," He shook his head, looking as if he he had come to a conclusion. "I've tried to be nice, tried to be cool with you, but I've had it, now I speak the real truth, none of this whitewashed bullshit I've been spouting just to make you feel good about yourself. Who cares? Why do you think I was the one to take you out, while Randy took Roman out? Because Hunter, Steph, Vince, everyone knows I'll push you. That I can make you look good. Because you're not special, Dean. All you've got is that crazy gimmick and that's going to wear thin pretty soon."

"Shut up!" Dean advanced towards Seth, then stopped. "I'm warning you."

"Oh?" Seth laughed, "You're warning me? Ooh, I'm so scared. Dean Ambrose is warning me. Please, I'm not scared of you, Dean. There's nothing to be scared of. You're just some crazy guy who thinks his craziness makes him special. Crazy is a mental disease, Ambrose, not a personality trait. It doesn't make you special, it just makes you sick. And do you want to know the truth? I don't even think you're that crazy. I think you put it on for attention, because it's all you have in this world."

"Shut up!" Dean raised his fist, giving Seth one last warning. "Not another word out of you!"

"Or what?" Seth shook his head. "See? That's what I mean, you're faking it. A real crazy person would have hit me by now, but not you. You're too scared to hit me for real, because you know, I can kick your ass and I don't need crazy to do it. I can do it because I'm stronger than you, I'm faster than you and I'm better than you. I'm the best one out of the three of us. That's why I was willing to break up the Shield, because I know I'm going places. You and Roman didn't want to, because both of you suspect the truth, that your careers are going to sputter out like a 67' Chevy with water in the carburetor. Once the rivalry between you and I stops, you'll be lucky to be jobbing for Fandango. They'll bring you out when they want to promote a new guy but otherwise, you'll be in the back, praying this will be the night they let you out of your cage to play for awhile. And people won't even remember you were once crazy, because instead you'll just be pathetic. A pathetic little jobber, remembering the glory days when people gave a shit about him, but only because he was in a faction with me."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, because there were no words anymore, there was nothing but anger. He jumped onto Seth, knocking him to the ground and was on top of him in a flash, hitting him, over and over again, not very hard, but wildly, as he had hit Roman the Monday night after this whole thing had begun, just hitting, trying to get rid of the anger inside him, trying to transfer it to Seth. And then, much to his horror, he realized he had a lump in his throat, a lump he hadn't felt in-well, he forgot when the last time he felt it, so he kept throwing punches, but they were getting wilder and wilder, and Seth was countering them easily, but it didn't matter, because at any moment, that goddamned lump was going to break and it had to break or it would choke him to death. Dean didn't care if it did, let him die right here, right now, but he knew his body had other plans and wasn't going to let him. And the lump got bigger and bigger and then broke and he rolled off of Seth, sitting on the grass and did something he hadn't done in so long, something he never thought he'd do again. Especially not over something so stupid, so childish as this, but sometimes the heart had different ideas than the head. He buried his face in his hands and let the lump burst and a sob broke from his body, loud and ugly and so obvious, he couldn't pretend it was anything but a sob.

He kept his face hidden, letting the tears spill out of them, letting himself cry, something he just didn't do anymore, and he wanted to stop so badly, but the relief was so powerful that he couldn't and he just kept crying, shoulder's shaking, snot running from his nose like a fountain, no doubt aggravated not only by his tears, but by his allergies.

He thought Seth would laugh at him, but Seth rose to his feet and went back into the house, When he came back, he had a box of tissues he'd taken from the downstairs bathroom. He pulled a handful from the box and handed them to him. Dean took them and blew his nose, instantly turning them into a soggy mess. "You'd better not tell anyone about this, Rollins," he threatened.

"So, I should destroy the pictures I took with my smart phone?" Seth said, that cocky grin on his face. "Instead of posting them to Instagram?"

"If I find out you took pictures, I will kill you," Dean said. sniffing one last time, sucking in the last of the tears and the snot. He stuffed the used tissues in his pocket, even though they'd make a gooey mess and grabbed for another handful out of the box. He wiped off his face, getting rid of all evidence. He rose to his feet, feeling shaky, but weirdly better, as if the pain he'd been bottling up these past few days, if not gone, was at least ebbing. He turned his head and spat out a wad of mucus.

"But imagine the fan fiction that will be written if pictures get out," Seth said, unable to resist grinning. "'Oh My God, Deanne is crying! Deane is showing his sensitive side! Must, write, story!'"

"Shut up, Seth," Dean said, but he was smiling himself, a smirking grin, but a grin none-the-less.

Seth walked over to him, and without hesitation, wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him, a warm, brotherly hug that Dean found himself returning. "Thank god you finally hit me," Seth said when they drew apart. "I was having trouble coming up with more lies that you'd swallow. You know I didn't mean any of that, right?"

"I guess," Dean said, shrugging, although, part of him did know and had known it all along. That's why he'd been so powerless. Because he knew Seth was risking himself to the God of Dean's anger, just to get him to let out the emotional poison that was running through Dean's veins.

"Look, I'll always be your brother," Seth said. "Roman too. When we started working together, we agreed, brothers in Shield, brothers outside the ring. Shield is gone, but we're still brothers. And I'm going to say things that'll hurt when we're having our conflicts in the ring, but that's just a part we're playing. The more people think I hate you, the more they'll love you, and I'm going to make sure they love you a lot, Dean. I'm going to make sure they drown you in love. I'm not going to be happy until they pop you so hard that when the first note of your theme music comes on, people are leaping to their feet, screaming your name."

"I guess that sounds pretty cool," Dean admitted, then sadly added, "but it's not going to be the same."

"Nope, not exactly," Seth agreed, his voice gentle. "But it won't be forever. Shield didn't last forever, this rivalry won't either. The day will come when we'll be on to different conflicts and it won't matter if we're all seen together again for business. In the meantime, we can still hang together outside the ring, as long as we're not working."

"I guess." Dean shrugged, then said, almost shyly, or at least shyly for Dean, "We're going to the zoo tomorrow. Do you believe it? The freakin' zoo. I guess Leah loves it."

"Good, Maybe you'll see that Rowin wears a lamb mask."

"Camel," Dean corrected.

"Lamb," Seth said.

"Camel." Dean stubbornly insisted.

"Lamb."

"Camel."

"Lamb."

"Okay, how about this," Dean suggested. "Let's both agree that whatever it is, it's not a Llama."

Seth pretended to be thinking, then nodded. "Yeah, okay. That works." He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and looked at it. "I should get going, Roman and Jess should be home soon, and they don't need to know I was here. I accomplished what I wanted to anyway, which was to talk to you."

"I think the zoo we're going to is the Gulf one," Dean said, trying to sound offhand. "If you wanted to see Roman, you could just sort of show up tomorrow."

Seth looked at him and shook his head. "I have a flight in about two hours. I only flew here to talk to Roman about you. I have to get back. You're the lucky ones that has until tomorrow night to report."

"You flew here for just for a few hours to find out how to fix things up with me?" Dean tried not to sound shocked, but some of it still crept into his voice.

"Yeah," Seth said, that smirking little half-smile playing across his lips. "And I'd do it again. Because that's the sort of shit brothers do."

Dean grinned back. He wanted to thank Seth, to tell him how much he appreciated that Seth actually cared about him, but he couldn't. So, he said the first thing that came to his mind, "Man, do we owe that swear jar some money."

When Roman and Jessica got back to the house, Dean was asleep on the couch, the TV playing an old black and white movie Roman didn't know the name of. He grabbed the remote and clicked it off and shook Dean by the shoulders. "Hey, buddy, we're home, maybe you should go to bed."

Dean woke up and yawned. "Cool," he said, his mouth still full of sleep. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Roman admitted, "We did, thanks again for babysitting. Did everything go all right?"

"Everything went just great," Dean said, wanting to get to bed and continue sleeping, hopefully before they noticed that one of the pictures on the wall was in a slightly different frame then it had been when they left. Or that the carpet looked freshly shampooed and was still damp. Or that the door knob into the laundry room was much shinier now. "I'll see you guys in the morning. Night Roman, night, Jessica."

"Good night, Dean," Jessica called out as he left the room. When he was gone, she turned to Roman. "If anything the place looks cleaner than when we left. And you were so worried. From what I can see, it must have been a pretty mellow night for Dean and Leah."

"Yeah," Roman said. "Maybe you're right, but..." His gaze went to a corner of the room where a clear plastic jar stood. "If things were so calm, maybe you can explain why the swear jar, which was empty this morning, is now almost full to the top?"

The End

Author's notes: Well, here we are. Dean escaped the bullet... for now. I do have to wonder what will happen the next day. Because I don't think Leah could keep from letting Daddy know his other best friend, Unca Seth was there.

Just A Reader Badgirl's club, FTW! Thank you for your review, I don't care if you sound like a broken recornd, you want to tell me how much you liked each chapter? Please, feel absolutely free, it's music to my ears! And, I know you shouldn't admit this about your own characters, but I'm starting to like Leah, too. She's not perfect, but she's not a brat either.

I think Seth helped Dean fix the house because that's what Seth does. No matter what happened, as we found out in this last chapter, Seth still considers Dean his brother and when your brother is in a fix (and might get killed by your other brother) you help him.

I'm still working on the 'nerf idea. I want to find a way to throw it into the sequel to Chasing the Moonlight, but I'm stalled on that one. Right now I'm working on a challenge fiction, but I'm hoping when I'm done with that, I'll be able to work on CTM2.

Iremmy Thank you. I really appreciate the review.

cazz21 Thank you for your review, too. I would have sent my thanks directly to your in box, but you don't have that feature turned on, so I have to put it here.

To all the people who took the time to review this story, thank you. I have thanked all of you privately, but I still like to make the public thank you too. Because it's reviews that keep me writing. I was commenting to someone else, that the old standby of, "Well, if they really want to write it, they'll write it," isn't necessarily true. For some folks, I'm sure it is, but for me? I have plenty of ways to flex my imagination, writing is just one of them. I can daydream, I can role play it out with my S/O or with Betagirl. (It's actually a lot of fun to do that when I'm stuck on a part and I can't figure out what to do with it.) So, the only reason why I take the time to write this stuff down, to go through it, to send it off to Beta girl and have her rip it apart, so on and so forth, is for feedback. So, if you want to encourage, you know how. Sure, a long review complimenting me on my brilliant use of the word "And" is always appreciated, but even just saying, "Hey, I liked it!" at least tells me people are interested and is appreciated. And even if you didn't like it, you can tell me that too, as long as you're willing to tell me why you didn't like it. I know I sound like a broken record, but it's true, Good reviews make me glow. Critical reviews make me strive to improve.

Thank for taking this journey with me, it's been fun, hasn't it?

Willow