A/N: Just learned WWE's coming nearby and ADR's on the card. I may get to see Ricardo live for the first time ever! EEEE!

Alberto Del Rio hesitates in his car, twisting in his seat to peer at Ricardo Rodriguez, a grimace on his lips. "Are you sure about this, mi amigo? I wish you would have stayed at the hotel, allowed yourself to rest for awhile..."

Ricardo absently runs his fingers over the orthopedic pillow supporting his neck still after Big Show's repeated attacks from the week prior, hesitantly releasing a breath. "No, El Patron, please... I want to be here, I've already promised to remain in your locker room." He blinks miserably. "I won't be able to rest, not knowing what's going on anyway- por favor..."

He sighs, staring down at his hands. "I know, mi amigo. I do." He shakes his head mirthlessly and pulls himself out of the car before glancing around suspiciously on his way to Ricardo's door. "Easy, easy," he murmurs, reaching in and helping him to his feet. "Alright?"

"Si." Ricardo takes a breath as his employer guides him into the building, the two of them unfortunately well-versed with this- going from place to place while Ricardo's neck is injured, how it limits his maneuverability and balance. He almost looks relieved to sit down as Alberto leads him over the leather couch in the corner of his personal locker room, keeping ahold of his arm until Ricardo is settled.

"Promise me, you're going to stay in here until I come for you. And not open the door for anyone or anything until you hear me."

"I promise, El Patron." Only then does Alberto smile and hand over the remote to a nearby monitor, ruffling Ricardo's hair before he turns quickly for the door, vengeance on his mind. He stops, however, when Ricardo speaks up. "Be careful, El Patron."

"I will, Ricardo. Don't worry about me." His grin is quick, more than a little foreboding, before he pushes his way back out of the locker room, locking it before shutting the door behind him with a loud click that only adds to Ricardo's unease. Alberto's match thankfully is early on, against Cody Rhodes, and he wins, then addresses the Big Show situation. Ricardo watches, tense, his hands curling into fists and then relaxing every few moments, until it's revealed that Big Show is at his hotel room- the arena suddenly feels a lot less daunting, the ring announcer sinking back into the cushions at the realization that they're safe here.

When Alberto returns, Ricardo unlocks the door for him and half-smiles, unsurprised to find that, despite Big Show not being here, his employer's focus hasn't snapped, completely locked on getting some level of vengeance on the much larger competitor. Especially when his eyes land once more on the neck support easing his ring announcer's discomfort. "Here, amigo, read through this," he urges, handing over the contract for his and Big Show's rematch at the upcoming pay per view. He'd left all of the contract reading from the past few years to the younger man, Ricardo becoming quite proficient at understanding all of the jargon within, and he trusts him to keep him from signing anything that wouldn't be in his best interest or held some hidden loophole.

As Ricardo obligingly goes through it all, murmuring aloud on some of it, Alberto grabs some clothes from his bag and slips into them, wanting to be ready to follow the courier as he brings the contract to Show's hotel room. "How does it look, Ricardo?" he inquires, dropping down next to him and running his fingers through his match mussed hair, smoothing it out quickly before peering down at the papers in the younger man's hand.

"Looks standard, I see nothing worrisome, El Patron. Otunga could-"

"No, no, I trust your judgement, mi amigo. Gracias." He collects the papers and lays them on the nearby table, signing where indicated. "Time to go... deliver these." That grin returns to his face and Ricardo stares at him, worried. "What is it, Ricardo?" he asks, realizing after a moment just how uneasy his ring announcer is.

"What are you going to do, El Patron?" he asks quietly, not wanting to anger his employer but also too worried to not say anything.

"You'll see. But things will be fine, mi amigo. Don't worry. Just relax, and watch, si?" Alberto pats his jaw a couple of times before collecting the papers and leaving the room, Ricardo staring at the door with a grim look on his face.

So he does. And he watches when Alberto attacks Big Show at his hotel room, his fingers pressed anxiously to his lips as Big Show starts off with the upperhand, throwing Del Rio around the hallway and into a table, until finally the Mexican aristocrat takes control and leaves the giant laying following a solid strike with a fire extinguisher. Ricardo closes his eyes as his employer slips into the elevator and makes it away relatively safely, a relieved little sigh escaping him. Even so, Alberto had been gingerly touching his forehead and had taken some solid body shots too, so he's not completely relaxed while he waits for the older man to arrive back at the arena to collect him.

He hears Alberto before he even gets to the door, the World Champion arguing with Booker T as he approaches the locker room, voices raised as Ricardo flinches in surprise. By the time he unlocks and opens the barrier keeping him from his employer, Booker has stormed off after saying something about there being consequences for his actions, but Alberto shrugs it off as soon as he sees Ricardo. "Amigo. Were you watching?"

"Si. Are you alright?" he asks, hand hesitantly brushing against the slow growing bruise above his brow.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He smirks a bit and wraps an arm around Ricardo's shoulders. "Come, amigo, let's get out of here."

"Si," he agrees quietly, eyes still on the discolored skin on his employer's forehead, Booker's warning echoing in his ear. He hopes that things even out eventually, so Alberto can enjoy being a champion properly, especially after fighting for so long to achieve his foremost goal when he'd joined the company years ago.