The car is a mess. Covered in leaves, and dirt, and food thrown all over the inside and outside of it- he spends over an hour just trying to make the outside look acceptable, trying not to think about the interior just yet. He had barely managed to pull a traffic cone and a bag of greasy, nasty fast food from the leather seats before he had grown ill and overwhelmed, choosing instead to find a bucket and some warm water, with the highest strength soap he dared use on the priceless car. Various superstars and divas go back and forth, some done for the night and others just wanting to peek at the mess of a car, laughing as they pass by the glaring, embarrassed ring announcer. I suppose this is the punishment I deserve, he thinks grimly, for leaving El Patron's keys in the ignition...
He scrubs a little harder before pulling back to wipe at his forehead, catching a glance of his wristwatch. "Ay," he whines, realizing just how late it is getting. Alberto had wanted to travel to the next town to prepare for Smackdown in this car, and they both have early morning media and autograph signings. He steps back and analyzes the car with a grimace. Most of the grass had been cleaned off, though some of the dried on dirt along the fender remains, and all of the mess inside. Taking another deep breath, he resumes work once more.
It's a little after 12:30 AM when he finally finishes, the car looking as close to pristine as he can get it. He'd even quickly cleaned the upholstery, using a portable fan to help it dry faster. He feels like he's about to collapse from exhaustion as he walks into the arena and locates Alberto's personal locker room, knocking lightly on the door.
"Enter," his employer barks, obviously still annoyed about earlier.
He wearily peeks his head inside and murmurs, "The car is clean, El Patron, whenever you are ready to leave..." When Del Rio points quietly at his things, Ricardo ventures inside and collects them, carrying them without saying a word back to the car, Alberto close on his heels. He pauses only momentarily in positioning the bags in the trunk to peer over at the surprise on the older man's face as he examines the car, obviously amazed that Ricardo had managed so much in such a little amount of time. Still, he says very little as they finally begin the trip to where Smackdown will be held later in the week.
They finally arrive and check into the hotel at around 3:30 AM. How he remains on his feet until Alberto is comfortably in bed, he's not sure, forgoing every pre-sleep ritual, choosing instead to toe his shoes off, folding his tux up quickly and just collapsing into bed in his underclothes, out before he can even fully get under the sheets. Despite visibly being exhausted, his sleep is far from restful, repetitive dreams full of Alberto yelling at him over his car and Sheamus laughing at him after he is fired for this latest massive screw up... No, no, please, he thinks desperately, hands twitching.
Del Rio's rest is disjointed as well, too angry to get too far into a good sleep, and he's on his way back from the bathroom when Ricardo releases a faint whimper, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like he's begging in his sleep. He pauses, watching as the younger man rolls over, now facing him. He even looks distressed, breathing a little loud and raspy in the quiet early morning hour. His employer sighs, rolling his eyes slightly. "Parada," he whispers, brushing his fingers through the younger man's hair and unsticking it from his sweaty forehead. "The car is fine. We will move past this." When he seems to relax against his pillows, Alberto moves back to his own bed and, releasing a deep breath, finally falls asleep as well.
Ricardo is awake long before Alberto, his eyes gritty and body still sore from the long hours he had spent laboring over the car the night before. Getting out of bed, he quietly digs through his bag, finding acceptable clothes and, after a quick, quiet shower, slips into them, relieved to wash the night before away. One last glance over his shoulder at the sleeping man and he slips out of the hotel room, relieved when the door only clicks slightly upon his exit.
When he returns around half an hour later, Del Rio is just beginning to stir, his eyes squinting in the early morning light as it seeps through the hotel curtains. Ricardo corrects this, quickly adjusting the blinds to block it out the rest of the way, ease Alberto's discomfort. "Buenos dias," he greets him quietly, laying down two bags- one food, one not. He ignores the second bag, quickly serving Del Rio his breakfast of an omelette full of onions and peppers, with salsa and sliced potatoes on the side. He finishes by gently laying a to go cup of coffee next to him on the bedside table before stepping back.
Alberto is not a morning person, especially after a night like last night, and he barely grunts in response, slowly digging into the food. When Ricardo is certain that it's to his liking, he returns to the bag and pulls out his own breakfast of pancakes and hashbrowns, sipping from his own coffee before taking a bite. While he watches, Del Rio sips lazily from the coffee and sighs, some awareness coming to his dark eyes as he takes in the dim, peaceful room. "Buenos dias, Ricardo," he finally murmurs, only just registering the small smile on the younger man's face as he resumes eating.
Ricardo takes his first opportunity, when Alberto is in the bathroom, to place the second bag quietly on his pillow before moving to see what needs to be done before they leave for the media events in a little bit. He's just made it back out into the main room when Alberto notices the bag, an uncertain look on his face. "What is this, Ricardo?" he asks, looking up at him.
Flushing slightly, Ricardo tries to stay calm, still not sure what Alberto will think of what's inside. "Open it and see, El Patron," he urges quietly, leaning down to finish repacking both of their bags now that they're ready for the day ahead.
"Eh," he sighs, tugging the straps of the bag apart and reaching inside. Once the bag is empty, he runs his fingers over the smooth fabric, taking in the sleek, black scarf that's sprawled across his knees, looking similar to his own white scarf, but somehow different, more refined. "Ricardo..." He looks truly surprised, his eyes gleaming. "This is magnificent, it will go perfectly with my new gear!"
Ricardo looks pleased at his response, nodding. "Si, El Patron, that's what I was trying to go for. You can... bring it with you to Japan, if you wish." It had been an impulse buy, his way of trying to make up for the car gaffe. A designer shop had just happened to be across from the restaurant he had selected for breakfast, and thankfully had scarves in stock despite it still being mid-summer.
"Gracias, I will do that."
When they make it to the parking lot and the car that had been trashed by Sheamus and salvaged by Ricardo is gone, already shipped back to Mexico to be maintained thoroughly by Alberto's mechanic down there, replaced by the new one he wishes to show off for Smackdown, it's only with a brief hesitation that Alberto hands over the keys to Ricardo while he waits for the younger man to put their things in the trunk. He still feels shame for letting such an expensive car get treated so callously by the Irishman, but knows that they'll get their revenge soon enough.