Molly found afternoons routinely dull, but necessary, like a favorite garden trowel that's lost its chrome finish. Stretched out flat on the abandoned surface of a tar parking lot, she wondered how wide her tan-lines would be.

Wind whistled through the pine trees, lulling her to relaxation. She deserved a nap. Just a five-minute nap, after such a hard workout...

"Molly! I need your opinion on something!"

She peeked up between the bend of her elbows, where she had hidden her head.

"Are you all right? What are you doing, lying down in a parking lot?"

She sat up and found the concerned face of Dean Malenko floating over her head in the foggy heat.

"Just napping." She shrugged, rubbing a crick in the back of her neck. "What did you want?"

"That doesn't look comfortable," he pointed out, sitting down beside her. She watched the compact lines of his body collapse as he found the warmth of the tar. "I didn't hurt you with that side-slam?"

"No." Dean wrestled as he talked; with a concrete swagger that somehow left her unscratched. He was the result of years of conditioning, borne of a childhood at his father's knee. He was solid and resolute, like an oak tree left standing alone after a raging forest fire. "What did you need, Dean?"

"Oh! I'm trying to decide between rolling drills and running drills. What would you pick? How would the girls react to a rolling drill and then a combination demonstration?"

Molly shrugged. "Vince would tell us to do whatever it takes to protect Carmella."

"Carmella's coming along," he said defensively. Dean was the only guy on the staff who liked Carmella, saw something in her that was beyond Molly's reaching. Not that she was the judgmental type.

"She didn't trip this time when we tried a reversal," she noted.

"And that's a small victory." Dean tilted his frosty water bottle to the white-gold sun before taking a refreshing drink. Molly licked, unconsciously, at her lips, and he noticed her watching. "Need a drink?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Here." He held out the bottle, and she eyed the mouthpiece, wondering about his hygiene. When she sipped, she detected the brilliant flavor of mint, and beyond it a mellow smokiness she couldn't identify. The water was wholly refreshing, and her energy level perked up a bit.

"Thank you." She returned the bottle. His arms rippled with the motion as he lounged against the tacky surface; she suddenly wished she'd brought a towel with her. By way of making conversation, she lay down beside him and stared up into the light.

In the clouds, she saw an airplane and a woman's face, and Dean, when prompted, admitted he saw them as well, and in addition to that a skyscraper that stretched over their heads.

"I haven't looked at the clouds in a long time."

"How long?"

His eyes darkened. "Since my father died."

Molly's heart turned over in guilt. Everyone knew of Boris Malenko, who had taught in Minnesota for years before his death from cancer.

"Years before, when Joe and I were kids," he explained, then shrugged. "My dad always felt that fantasy was an important part of life, and dreaming helped you live in the real world."

"I can see that," Molly said, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Now you know why my father wrestled." His own smile appeared, then faded. He sat up abruptly, then stood. "I'm surprised Tom isn't screaming my name at this point..."

Molly suddenly remembered herself, standing and smoothing out her perpetually-wrinkled, faded-out jeans. "I'm sorry for distracting you."

Dean shrugged, walking away, waiting in the doorway for her. "It was a fine distraction." She approached and ghosted by his standing form.

"Did you decide?"

He stared at her blankly.

"If we're going to do running drills or rolling drills today?"

"Oh! Rolling drills." He crushed the empty water bottle and tossed it into a large gray bin. "You look like you deserve a little break today."

Funny, she didn't feel run-down; her skin felt alive, flushed, as though it contained her breathing, beating heart.

"Thank you for helping me decide," he said.

She tilted her chin, a grin sliding over her lips up. She looked beautiful when she smiled. "Any time."

They turned and walked in different directions down the dark hallway, heading to opposite rooms, opposite thoughts.