"3MB, baby!" the loud voice of Heath Slater echoes through the hallway, Ricardo closing his eyes behind his mask. He'd just finished a match against Tyson Kidd, winning yet again- though the last graduate of the Hart dungeon had nearly overwhelmed him a time or two- and to come back to that... Ugh. He's almost to Alberto's personal locker room when there's a hideous yell in Spanish, his eyes widening as he tears his mask off and runs the rest of the way, finding Heath himself in front of the locker room, beer bottle in hand.
Alberto is standing in the doorway, dripping wet and spitting in anger and embarassment. "Perro!" he screams right in Heath's face, ignoring the trails of frothy beer as it flows down his chin, splatters against his shoes and floor. "What do you think you are doing?!"
Ricardo, pushing Heath out of the way roughly, quickly tries to dry his El Patron off with whatever he finds on hand, annoyed as well at this disrespect.
"I didn't know that was your locker room!" Heath screams back, eyes wide as he takes in just what he'd done. Ignoring Drew and Jinder as they try to pull him away, he points a finger at Alberto. "Why'd you open the door right then?! Wouldn't have drenched you otherwise!"
"Idiota," Del Rio sneers at him, his eyes squinting viciously as he lunges, trying to get past Ricardo, who just manages to maintain his footing while gripping a towel that he'd found nearby. He keeps his head down, still trying to wipe the priceless suit clean, when Alberto comes very, very still. And very, very quiet.
He looks up hesitantly, knowing that that's never a good sign. "El Patron-"
Alberto ignores his pleas to calm down, grabbing the mask from his hand and, in a motion that's so similar to what he'd done after he had first learned Ricardo was Segundo, pulls the mask onto the younger man's face, adjusting it until his eyes are visible, immediately spinning him around to face Heath. "You will wrestle Ricardo tonight!"
Feeling like he's in some weird version of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, it takes a moment for Ricardo to figure out what Alberto had just said, but when it clicks, he sputters. "Q- que?!"
Heath seems unphased, even laughing as he finally allows Drew and Jinder to push some distance between them all. "Whatever man," he calls out before walking completely out of sight. "He's already wrestled one match tonight, it'll be easy pickin's! Naw mean?"
Alberto isn't the only one offended now, Ricardo's hand tightening into a fist even as he resumes trying to salvage the priceless outfit. "Idiota," he grumbles, borrowing one of Del Rio's favorite insults.
"Enough, enough," the Mexican aristocrat snaps, swatting away his fretful attempts at drying the fabric. "You will be ready for this, si? Not that that ginger perro is correct about anything, but if you need a little more time after your earlier match-"
Ricardo feels a twinge of hurt at this but swallows, pushing his pride aside as he takes in why Alberto's truly asking, because he doesn't want either of them to be further embarrassed by the obnoxious man. "Si, of course, El Patron, I would have said as much otherwise," he tells him. "I'll be fine and pay that idiota a lesson. I promise."
Del Rio smirks, tapping Ricardo on the chest. "You have defeated him in the past, haven't you?"
"A time or two," Ricardo nods, a smirk of his own growing underneath his mask. "This will be simple enough."
"Of course it will."
Despite his confidence and lofty words, Ricardo isn't stupid enough to overlook Heath's growing ability. He too had gained confidence lately, due to the formation of 3MB, and of course Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal are in his corner this evening, Drew jumping up onto the ring apron at random intervals as Jinder distracts the referee with his yells and just plainly being obnoxious. All of these distractions do make competing against Heath more complicated for Ricardo, though he's far from alone as well.
During another round of Drew and Jinder's working together to disturb the referee and keeping him from noticing as Ricardo covers Heath following a stiff boot to the side of the skull, Del Rio, officially impatient with their antics, runs down to the ring and succeeds at tripping both of them, sending them thoroughly off of the ring apron where they crash on the mat below hard. The referee, equally as annoyed as the two Mexicans, takes his focus from the action long enough to point out Drew and Jinder, warning them to stay away from ring side or risk disqualification for their teammate. He eyes Alberto warningly but the rich man wisely steps away, hands held high as he backs away.
Except that the distraction outside of the ring actually works in Heath's favor, the West Virginia native grabbing something that had somehow appeared on the mat and clocking Ricardo hard in the face with it before throwing it back out of the ring where Jinder kicks it out of sight. Ricardo drops hard to the mat, unmoving, despite how he can distantly hear Del Rio yelling. The ref, blind to the shenanigans, moves into place and, as Heath tightly wraps him up in a pin, counts the three, though he'd not seen the finishing blow.
Coming to at the rough, grating sounds of Slater's theme music, Ricardo rolls painfully onto his stomach and looks up at Alberto, shaking his head. I lost, he thinks, feeling impressively low. And after all of my bragging earlier. El Patron must think I'm so pathetic... "Lo siento," he whispers as Del Rio joins him, resting a steadying hand on the middle of his back and glaring up the ramp at the boisterious members of 3MB celebrating Heath's victory.
"They cheated," he snarls, wiping some blood from Ricardo's jaw that is just visible under his mask. "It was not your fault."
"They did?" he asks lowly, still dazed from the rough strike he'd taken. "I ... it's a blur."
Del Rio sneers, brushing the red flakes from his fingers. "Si. It seemed to be brass knuckles."
Ricardo swallows, gingerly feeling his own jaw. "I see." He takes a breath and faces his employer, shaking his head. "I told you I would win, and I failed. No matter how it came about, I apologize for that."
Alberto loops a hand around his shoulders as they carefully ease their way up the ramp, Ricardo still a little unbalanced. "Let's move past this, eh? There will be other matches against 3MB."
"Of course," he agrees, desperate to redeem himself to his employer, willing to do anything. "I want a rematch."
The Mexican aristocrat's visible pleasure at this eases some of his inner turmoil, Ricardo already planning what he'd do differently to withstand 3MB's tricks next time.
Booker T grants a rematch that Friday and Ricardo prepares for it under Alberto's watchful gaze, adjusting his gear anxiously while they wait for their cue. Same as before, Del Rio plans on accompanying him to make sure the other two members of 3MB keep to the outside of the ring, and there are no other shenanigans that will work against him.
Drew and Jinder remain in the ring for a bit this time, Heath's arms wrapped around their shoulders as they stare at him and blatantly mock him, laughing as he waits for the match to begin. He's flushing under his mask when the ring ropes part and an impatient Del Rio enters, staring the others down with a hot glare. Slater straightens up here and raises an eyebrow at them before saying something to his teammates, the two men slipping out of the ring finally. Del Rio nods, turning towards Ricardo and, winking slightly, slaps him on the chest before leaving out the other side, his gaze shifting from Ricardo to the two members of 3MB on the outside of the ring.
Emboldened by the fact that the Mexican aristocrat has his back from the start this time, Ricardo barely pays any attention to Jinder and Drew, choosing instead to concentrate fully on Heath. They lock up and struggle back and forth for awhile, the orange haired man seeming utterly determined to hold his edge against Ricardo. Finally it ends when Ricardo gains the upperhand, slinging Heath over his shoulder and stomping him harshly in the ribs.
Heath, annoyed at this, rolls away before Ricardo can try anything else, and ends up by the ropes, where Jinder and Drew pat his arm and confer with him, all three ignoring the referee as he tries to get order back in the match. Del Rio keeps a close eye on everything as Ricardo grows bored of waiting and runs over, grabbing Heath by the hair and dragging him back into the ring, where they exchange blows until the referee intercedes, reprimanding them until they separate. It lasts only seconds, however, as Heath lunges over his head and punches Ricardo clear in the head, startling him.
He hears Alberto yell encouragement his way and shakes his head, trying to recollect himself. Outstretching his hands, he waits for his opponent to move his way while keeping his stance low so he can be prepared to defend at any time.
"Sin Cara didn't scare me even with his screwed up lights, beatin' him put my career back on track... Imagine what'll happen to me when I beat you," Heath yells over to him, sneering as Ricardo glowers at him through the small cut out sections in his mask.
He spots Del Rio glowering over at the ginger and takes a breath, not allowing himself to fall to his level with witless insults or meaningless attempts at intimidation. Instead, he lunges at the older man and sends him back into the turnbuckle, Heath struggling beneath him to get free. He only releases him when the ref starts to complain, breaking between them as Ricardo backtracks, hands held up in acceptance.
After a brief pause, they resume, trying to overwhelm each other with this attempt at offense and that. Nothing really lands on either of them, Heath matching Ricardo's agility with a surprising amount of speed of his own. He feels himself beginning to sweat under his wrestling gear but ignores the annoying feel of moisture trailing down his mask, landing a few solid strikes to the side of Heath's face, startling the ginger. When he's already off balanced, Ricardo lunges forward and tackles him into the corner, stepping back just enough to kick him harshly in the mid-section, winding him further.
Heath stumbles forward and takes a solid kick to the jaw, sending him back to the mat. Heath tries to stagger back up but Ricardo moves faster, getting onto the second rope and twisting his body into a corkscrew moonsault. As he crashes into his opponent, he feels as Slater deflates underneath him, all of the air forced out of his lungs. Closing his eyes, the ring announcer/wrestler flips around and pins him to the mat, listening as the audience reacts to the three count, his own relief at not failing Del Rio again rushing over him in a flood.
Relief turns to something close to fear as he's still trying to catch his breath on the mat and looks up in time to see the other members of 3MB coming in to get vengeance for their fallen leader. He's waiting for further blows to rain down upon him when hands reach in through the ring ropes and grips him by the arm and shoulder, drawing him out to the floor, to safety. He pants a time or two before blinking up at his employer. "El Patron." Sagging in relief, he smiles. "Gracias."
"De nada." Del Rio glares up at the obnoxious pseudo-band and tilts his head. "Come, let's get out of here."
"Si." They're almost at the ramp when they both hear Heath breathing heavily into a microphone and Ricardo pauses, somehow sensing that this isn't quite over yet.
"You think it's gonna be that easy?" he pants out, his accent thick and causing his words to slur together. "It ain't! Hell no." As the two men on the ramp turn to look at him, he pauses and wipes at his forehead, scraping his hair out of his eyes. "I'm not done with you, Segundo- Ricardo- whatever the hell it is you're goin' by these days. I won one, you won one. I want a rubber match."
Del Rio huffs and starts to wave him off, guiding his ring announcer back up the ramp, when Heath laughs into his mic. "Scared, huh?" When both men freeze at this claim, his chuckles taper off into heavy breathing once more. "How 'bout this, we have a third match. Drew'n'Jinder, they'll stay in the back. Del Rio, he will too. Just you'n'me, one on one, and we'll settle this up right and fair."
Ricardo glances at his employer, who is staring back at him. "It's up to you, Ricardo," he finally concedes, squeezing his shoulder. "I've no doubt you'd beat him in a fair fight, such as you did tonight."
Comforted by this, the younger man nods. "Fine, I accept," he tells Heath once he has his hands on another microphone, eyes glinting with determination. One last match between the two of them, competed without Alberto or the other two members of 3MB, a way to thoroughly prove himself against Heath Slater. He looks forward to it.
Vickie agrees, even makes it one of the matches at the upcoming PPV. Preshow, sure, but still- a match at a PPV! Ricardo smiles at that. He'd had a PPV match already, yes, but he'd been known as Segundo then, and now everyone- including Alberto, who'd been the one to unmask him at said PPV match- knows that he is Ricardo, and it somehow makes it more special for him.
That Sunday, he is preparing for his match when Alberto enters the locker room, eyes lighting up when he catches sight of him. "How are you feeling, Ricardo?"
"Well, El Patron. I am ready for this evening." He adjusts his gloves and looks up, smiling. "Heath Slater won't feel like playing guitar- air or otherwise- for a long time once I'm done with him."
Del Rio smirks as well. "That's what I like to hear." Clapping him on the shoulder, he turns to look through his own things for this evening. "You know, Ricardo, when you began this Segundo thing and I first found out about it..." Ricardo flinches, remembering those days. Alberto had not been happy when he'd unmasked his opponent just to find Ricardo under there, to put it lightly. "I will admit, I had some worry that you would forget your duties to me due to that. But you still manage to do all I require of you and compete... It is quite impressive."
"I would never have abandoned you like that, El Patron. No matter my own aspirations. You helped me get my foot in the door with the WWE, and I'll never forget that, no matter how far my own career goes."
Alberto's eyes soften as his face lights up into a faint grin. "Gracias, Ricardo. I'll never forget your unwavering loyalty, mi amigo."
Ricardo just smiles sheepishly, looking down as if embarrassed at all of the compliments which are usually given so sparingly by his employer. "De nada, El Patron."
The match starts shortly afterwards and Ricardo heads down to the ring, much more self-assured now than he had been when he began this journey as Segundo. Alberto knowing had made all of the difference, and now he competes to avenge himself and his employer, so he has no time for self-doubts. Except that everything goes by the wayside when Heath Slater doesn't come out alone as he'd claimed when the match terms were dictated- no, Wade Barrett is by his side, a cocky sneer on his face. Ricardo points out the problem to the referee immediately, who shakes his head, unable to do anything about it until Wade actually does something. Ricardo watches on, perplexed, as Heath enters the ring, looking like the cat who ate the canary.
"Gotta problem, Ricardo?" he demands once he gets a mic, to the consternation of the whole audience. "Shuddap!" he snaps at them. "Anyway, as I was sayin' before bein' so rudely interrupted. I see you noticed my friend outside," he speaks once more to Ricardo. "I guess you didn't realize when I said I wouldn't be bringin' the other members of 3MB and you'd not be bringin' ADR that I meant outside of those three guys, anyone else'd be fairgame. Ain't there someone else you could call out for help? ... Oh, you ain't got no more friends? Aw, boohoo! Poor little Ricardo, all alone with me and Barrett... how horrible."
Eyes narrowing behind his mask, Ricardo glowers at the loudmouth and adjusts his gloves, trying to put his words and the uncomfortable situation he finds himself in behind him, to focus on the match to the best of his ability. When the bell rings, they lock up and Heath laughs as he gets the upperhand in this power struggle, forcing the younger man into the corner and pinning him there as the referee tries to intercede, implements the five count. Once free, Ricardo puts some distance between himself and Heath, watching out of the corner of his eye as Barrett shifts from one corner to the other. He seems in no hurry to get involved, but just the fact that he's out there at all adds to the ring announcer's divided focus. I wish El Patron was out here...
But alas he can't be, so Ricardo tries to pay attention to his opponent and not the menacing shape outside, lunging up and punching Heath in the jaw. As the ginger recoils and grabs at his face, Wade shifts again, drawing Ricardo's attention to him just long enough for Slater to recover and elbow him in the stomach, winding him enough to follow up with a spinning neckbreaker that leaves him gasping on the mat, eyes squinted shut in pain.
He forces himself to his knees and stares out at Wade, who sneers cruelly at him, until Slater returns and dropkicks him in the back, sending him down against the ring apron. After a rebuke by the referee, Barrett holds his hands up and walks away, not even needing to touch Ricardo to do his duty out there at ringside. Disgusted with his poor showing so far, Ricardo struggles back to his feet and faces Heath, wiping at the lower half of his face that's visible. "This is far from over with," he says, partially to disturb Heath and partially to get himself back in the game.
"Show me whatcha got then, masked wonder," Slater sneers back at him, growing all the more cocky the longer the match progresses. Ricardo narrows his eyes at him, knowing that cockiness brings about sloppiness, brings about a potential opening if he could just keep his eyes out for one, last long enough.
Heath makes the first move and Ricardo dodges, lets the ginger slip harmlessly aside, before lunging up and kneeing him hard in the face. As Heath cries out and stumbles backwards, Ricardo follows up with an armdrag into a sleeperhold, more to give himself a minute to think, recuperate from his own lingering aches. After a bit, Heath's struggles fade into uncoordinated swats with his hand and the referee, after double-checking to ensure that it's not a chokehold, begins raising Heath's hands to see if he can count him out.
But as it happens fairly often, the referee's repetitive motion brings some life back into the competitors and Heath is no exception, his will to continue the match coming through in force as he keeps his hand up before it can fall to the mat on the three count, and Ricardo closes his eyes, almost disappointed though not surprised. He'd mainly only done this to have a breather, a chance to think.
Heath quickly elbows him and Ricardo rolls away, allowing him to make it back to his feet. As they square off again, he's distracted yet again by Wade's ever lurking presence and it allows Heath to catch him around the throat and sling him back down to the ring in a bone-rattling slam, the referee having to move quickly to avoid getting hit in the interim. Ricardo stares at the lights, trying to catch his breath and move past the pain stabbing up his spine, as Heath goes to the top rope, making his usual air guitar taunt before diving off towards him.
But Ricardo had been expecting that and rolls away just in time for the former Nexus member to crash and burn against the mat, writhing in pain afterwards. Rolling again, Ricardo just manages to avoid an angry Wade as he slaps his fists against the ring apron, exasperated. "Come on, Slater! Finish this already!"
Heath forces himself to his feet after this and tries to volley against Ricardo but the masked man has been waiting for this, his desperation to finish this feud once and for all pouring through him as he attempts Alberto's flying enzuigiri, snapping Heath's head back and causing him to drop to the mat. He's just climbed to the second rope, about to pull off his own moonsault, when the referee begins yelling at someone behind him and- a blur of tanned flesh as something unforgiving slams into the side of his head, knocking him out immediately. The combination of his body hitting the mat bonerattling hard and the loud ringing of the bell signifying the end of the match brings him to briefly, but it doesn't last as consciousness fades away yet again.
When he comes to, Barrett and Heath are standing on the entrance ramp, mumbling viciously back and forth between each other, and Alberto is leaning over him worriedly, steel chair in hand. "Ricardo, amigo, can you hear me?" he demands, hand warm against the ring announcer's jaw.
"El Patron," he groans out, ears ringing and head pounding. "What- what happened..."
"Barrett happened," he snarls, looking up at the tall, smirking Brit still watching from the top of the ramp. "You're going to be fine." He pats Ricardo on the head, mussing his hair slightly, and sighs. "Perros. Idiotas. They will pay for this."
Ricardo fumbles and grips his shoulder as he tries to recollect himself, sit up. "How?"
"I have an idea," Alberto smirks as he helps his ring announcer to his feet. "Trust me?"
"Of course." There's never been any question there, though his curiosity is hard to control as Alberto leads him to the back, through the halls and then outside of Vickie Guerrero's office. Alberto knocks loudly and when she urges them to come in, he allows Ricardo to enter first.
She stares at them quietly for a moment before sighing, moving around her couch to approach them. "What can I do for you both?"
"I want a tag match tomorrow night on Raw," Alberto tells her determinedly. "Myself and Ricardo against Heath Slater and Wade Barrett."
Vickie seems as surprised as Ricardo feels at this, peering from man to man as they wait for her verdict. Like for most everyone, 3MB had been a thorn in her side, their nonstop rehearsing doing little more but giving her a headache, and she's tempted to oblige this request. "Fine," she finally speaks up. "You have your match."
Ricardo smiles slightly at the sharp grin on Alberto's face as he receives what he wants, nodding in thanks when Del Rio rests a hand between his shoulderblades and leads him out of the office, the two walking side by side to the locker room assigned for Alberto. Ricardo's face still hurts, along with almost every other body part, but he says little, hoping that he feels better so he can be a proper partner to his employer the next night. Some of his feelings and thoughts must show on his face because Alberto pats his back. "Don't worry, amigo. I have no doubt that the match will go smoothly."
"Si, El Patron."
Del Rio had been main event level from almost the moment he'd stepped into WWE's halls, rarely competing in tag matches or for lower belts than the WWE or World title, so Ricardo isn't sure how he's going to take such a match, but he seems to embrace it, watching recaps of what Barrett had done to his ring announcer when he slips quietly into the locker room that Monday, his hands twisting together as he waits for Alberto to notice him.
Finally he clicks the monitor off and looks up, as if he'd known Ricardo had been there the whole time. "Are you ready?" he asks, lips twitching up into a slight smirk as the younger man nods, surprised. "Let's go then, mi amigo." Another nod and Ricardo tugs his mask on, Alberto walking up to him and brushing his hands down his shoulders, giving him a quick once over before squeezing his arms and guiding him out of the room.
Alberto leaves him at the gorilla position, approaching the person in charge of cuing up the various entrance themes and talks briefly with him, before returning to Ricardo's side with a knowing grin on his tanned face, not saying a word even when Ricardo looks over at him curiously. He almost expects Realaza to be what he walks out to, but instead his music echoes through the arena and, adding to his surprise, when he walks out through the curtain, Del Rio joins him. His jaw drops as he looks over at his employer but the Mexican aristocrat merely winks at him quickly before turning his attention back to the ring, where Slater and Barrett are waiting for them, all distractions quickly disappearing as the two men turn their focus to the match ahead of them.
Ricardo's dark gaze shifts from one to the other as Alberto moves fluidly up the stairs onto the apron, peering over his shoulder at them as well, eyes narrowed. He enters the ring without delay, turning to face them as his ring announcer joins him from his usual place on the second rope. Heath and Wade talk lowly on the other side of the ring, both with almost equally egotistical, obnoxious grins on their faces, as Alberto prepares for the match, putting his scarf on the turnbuckle and patting Ricardo on the shoulder. "I'll start," he says.
Surprised yet again, the masked man nods before slipping behind the ring ropes, watching on as his employer faces off with Wade Barrett, the two warily circling one another. A lock up follows and Wade, slowly losing ground against Del Rio, kicks him in the leg with enough force that he drops to one knee briefly before regaining his footing, looking angry at the embarrassment. Wade sneers as Heath's mocking laughter taunts them further, Ricardo's lips thinning under his mask. Alberto lunges after Wade again, this time sweeping him back into the corner opposite of Heath, and begins hitting him with sweeping punches, causing him to gasp and struggle, failing to defend or even block the shots.
Ricardo, keeping an eye on the bright haired man waiting anxiously in the corner, is a few steps ahead of him as he starts to move towards the two competitors, slipping seamlessly through the ropes and across the ring, dropkicking Heath in the legs and sending him clean off of the apron, which he then hits his face against before falling onto the floor, dazed and confused. The motion and sounds attracts both Alberto's and Barrett's attentions and they look over, the distraction just enough for Wade, realizing his tag partner is out of sight, to sweep up and just graze Alberto with his elbow, sending the Mexican aristocrat stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw. The Brit then slips out of the ring, kneeling down by Heath as he keeps a suspicious eye on the men in the ring, Ricardo examining his employer's face carefully while they all take advantage of the small opportunity to regroup this small break has given them.
"I'm alright," Alberto snarls, glaring harshly at Barrett. "Ricardo, go back to your corner, por favor," he orders, only sounding a little impatient as he brushes past his ring announcer and leers down at the two men still side by side on the floor, Heath scraping his long hair out of his eyes as he starts to recollect himself. Wade's smirk is gone, now replaced by the slow burn of true competition while he too waits for his tag partner to get back where he belongs.
"Up you get, Slater," he commands, helping him to his feet with a steadying hand under his arm as he pushes him back onto the apron, only waiting long enough to ensure his former teammate could support himself before sliding back into the ring and facing off with Alberto finally.
Releasing his jaw with a smirk, Del Rio glowers over at him, clenching his hands into fists while he waits for the bareknuckle brawler to make the first move. When he finally does, Alberto sidesteps and lets Wade's own momentum send him into the turnbuckle, where he waits for only a second before taking off at a run, landing a solid enzuigiri to Barrett's face, causing him to crumple to his knees. It's Del Rio's turn to laugh mockingly as Heath glowers across at him, spitting at Wade to get up, move. Do something.
Wade finally gets to his feet, shaking off the pain in his skull as he sweeps out with a solid punch towards Del Rio, following up with more fruitless blows as the Mexican aristocrat sidesteps and kicks him in the calf, compromising his balance and causing him to retreat for a moment to catch his breath. A lock up in the middle of the ring follows this and Heath and Ricardo both yell encouragement towards their partners, or insults at each other, as Wade and Alberto struggle on for the upperhand. Eventually Wade succeeds and slams Del Rio into the mat, Ricardo's eyes widening behind his mask as Heath sneers across the ring at him, shaking his hair out obnoxiously.
But Alberto isn't down for long, swinging out and kicking Wade roughly in the arm, taking the moment's reprieve to force himself back onto his feet as the Brit grouses and shakes his arm out, looking angrier than he normally does. Ricardo claps against the turnbuckle to get the crowd's attention, the sound echoing back towards him as the crowd slowly gets into supporting Alberto and himself, the aristocrat lunging forward and kicking Wade once more in the shoulder, visibly attempting to weaken him for the armbar. Wade must foresee what's coming because he scrambles away, into his own corner, and gruffly accepts the tag from Heath, allowing the shorter man into the ring before escaping back onto the apron, shaking feeling back into his arm once more. Alberto sizes him up with a sneer before turning to look at Ricardo, who's waving his arm around for the tag.
"You sure, amigo?" he calls over, his sneer turning into a smirk as the ring announcer nods, only then tagging him in and taking his place back on the apron as Ricardo sizes Heath up, his lips twisting into a grimace dripping disdain for the bright haired man. When they lock up in the middle of the ring, it seems even for a few moments until the former Corre member swings his leg out and trips Ricardo, sending him crashing into the mat. But the masked man is as crafty on the mat, if not more, and when Heath tries to kick him, he finds his own leg getting sweeped out from underneath him, sending him face first to the mat.
Wade, yelling out support from the other side of the ring, is all but drowned out as the audience cheers for Ricardo, Alberto looking a bit surprised as his ring announcer makes it back to his feet and kicks Heath in the shoulder before moving to the ropes opposite of Heath's corner, crawling up onto the second rope. Barrett, moving slowly to try not to attract the attention of the referee, who is distracted by ordering Ricardo off of the ropes, starts to approach that corner until Del Rio hops to the floor and races around, standing between the Brit and his masked friend, glowering upwards, all but daring him to try something. This attracts the referee's attention and he alternates between warning Alberto and Wade both back to their corners, keeping a close eye on them as they reluctantly go.
Once things settle, Heath is back on his feet, waiting for Ricardo to take that leap so he can lay him out with a clothesline or solid fist to the jaw or something worse, so he leaps down to the mat and glares at his opponent. Annoyed, Heath rushes forward and tries hitting him with a solid punch but Ricardo slings aside, dodging it, and drops him with a kick to the temple, hitting a standing moonsault before following it up by once more going to the second rope. Alberto keeps his eye on Wade but the referee also is looking back and forth from Ricardo to Barrett, insuring that all rules are upheld at this point in the contest. This time Ricardo flips off of the second rope successfully, hitting his corkscrew moonsault, which only compounds the pain Heath's already suffering, the ring announcer flipping him into a pinning combination.
He's not surprised when the ring begins rattling as Wade enters, but whatever offense he's about to attempt on the younger man's back is thwarted as Del Rio enters and leaps over the pin, kicking Barrett in the skull. Despite the referee's focus wavering between yelling at the two illegal men in the ring and ensuring that Heath's shoulders are down, he finally begins counting as Wade and Alberto exchange punches, Del Rio eventually shouldering the Brit through the ropes and following him to continue punching and keeping him away from breaking up Ricardo's pin. Ricardo breathes in time with the count, his fingers tangled tightly together until finally he hears the bell ring, the referee calling out 3! Rolling off of him, he adjusts his mask and rolls to his feet, grinning brightly before remembering that Del Rio and Wade are still outside, exchanging blows.
Taking a running start, leaping over Slater's prone body, he slides under the bottom rope and kicks Barrett, sending him slamming into the nearby barricade wall, sitting up in time to see the amused pleasure on his employer's face. "El Patron," he grins back, slipping out of the ring to join him on the floor. "Alright?"
"Si," Alberto nods back, his eyes gleaming with rarely pure happiness as he claps Ricardo on the back. He'd never been much for tag team matches, but this had been fun, he and Ricardo gelling well together. He thinks, as the referee appears between the two of them and lifts their arms in victory, that perhaps some day in the future he might be willing to do this again with his ring announcer. As he looks over and grins at the younger man, he reflects on just how far they've come since he'd first found out about the whole Segundo thing, going from employer and ring announcer to friends, to now, tag partners when necessary. It's a good feeling.