Once they're all back on tour with WWE, arriving in Canada and settling in for the evening's Raw, Ricardo wanders the arena to find his interview subjects, fingers tightening and loosening against the base of the microphone. He feels better than he has in awhile, unable to stop the slow building smile on his face every time he thinks about Paige, the softness of her eyes when they'd shared their first kiss. He's so thoroughly wrapped up in these memories, these thoughts, that he doesn't notice the footsteps heading his way until it's too late- something thick and dark dropping onto his head and stopping him short. He swallows and reaches up blindly, tugging the article of clothing away from his face and taking in a deep breath.
When he turns slowly around, it's to find Alberto standing behind him, smirking, his arms crossed over his chest. Ricardo eyes him for a moment and his smirk softens into a grin. "I was bored of wearing the same old shirt again and again, so I had this made up."
Ricardo gingerly unbunches the shirt, staring down at it. It's grey, with Hecho en Mexico sprawled across it, his fingers reverently tracing the bird symbolizing their pride in their heritage. "El Patron?" he asks lowly, glancing up at him.
"This is for you, mi amigo." He smiles when Ricardo's gaping gaze alternates from him to the shirt and back. "Try it on." Nodding, the former ring announcer shrugs out of the dress jacket he'd thrown on for his interviews and tugs the shirt on over his head, grinning when it fits well. Alberto wanders forward and ruffles his hair, examining him. "It looks good on you, mi amigo. I bet Paige will agree," he adds with a smirk as Ricardo, flustered, tugs at the hem and purposely looks everywhere but at his former employer. Alberto sighs and throws an arm around the younger man's shoulder, leading him down the hall. "It is nothing to be embarrassed about all of the time, Ricardo. You two are... hm, cute," he finally says, glancing down at Ricardo as he swallows and nods sheepishly, shrugging back into his jacket.
Alberto's match is soon and Ricardo sees him off, standing at gorilla and watching as the match begins. He's still standing there when Paige joins him, rocking back and forth quietly on the heels of her feet. He peeks over at her and smiles, surprised when she stays near him, simply watching Alberto defeat Dolph Ziggler due to a distraction from Fandango. It's for another chance at Sheamus' US title and Ricardo smiles, happy for his best friend. As Alberto stumbles back, sore but pleased, his eyes fall on Ricardo and his eyes gleam as he spots Paige nearby. He walks over to him and hugs him quickly, laughing against his ear before Ricardo can even congratulate him. "Go, mi amigo," he mutters, glancing back at the diva. "I believe she's waiting for you. Enjoy yourself, hmm?" He taps Ricardo's jaw and winks at him before stepping away.
Ricardo coughs, flushes, and walks towards her. "Hola, Paige, is there something you needed from me?"
Her hand instinctively finds his and she nods, stepping closer to him. "Yes, Ricardo, I do..." She squeezes gently, both of them looking down at their enlaced fingers. "Would you be willing to help me with a little something I'd like to do for AJ tonight?" He looks wary, his eyes widening when she smiles sweetly, leaning closer to him. Her whisper tickles against his skin as she explains that she merely wants to announce the divas champion to the ring, but she wants his advice so she can do a good job at it. He swallows and pulls back, staring into her eyes. When he nods, unable to say no to her, her face lights up and she throws her arms around him. "Thank you so much, Ricardo! This is going to be fantastic!" Her hand finds his again and she leads him away to somewhere quiet so he can give her pointers. For the rest of the night, he feels the softness of her skin tingling against his fingers, due to his trying to show her where in her diaphragm to speak from when ring announcing.
Later on that night, Alberto and Ricardo are walking side by side in their matching shirts, about to leave the arena, when Ricardo senses something- a shift in the air behind them. He stops, only noticing out of the corner of his eye as Alberto too pauses, turning to look at him in confusion. He says nothing, however, turning slowly around, uncertain of what he's about to find. He swallows upon finding that it's his old opponent, Santino Marella. The man isn't in his ring gear, wearing a white shirt and crisp black slacks instead. Despite this, he still looks ornery, his hand outstretched, the garish green sock puppet Cobra waiting patiently to strike.
The former ring announcer stares at him, not sure why- after so many months of their actually enduring each other's presence- he would choose now to confront Ricardo, after announcing his need to retire at a live event the night before. "Eh, Santino," he mutters, taking a step back just for Santino to take two forward, lessening the distance between them at an uncomfortable pace. Del Rio watches, tense, waiting in case he needs to lay out an enzuigiri to make him leave his best friend alone, neck injuries or no, but just when Ricardo is pinned against the wall, eyes wide with horror, and Alberto's about to take a running leap, Santino's expression changes.
He smiles. Tears the sock off of his wrist and stares at Ricardo with a soft sigh. "It was a good run, eh?" It is then that both Mexicans realize- he has his hand outstretched, not to attack but to shake.
Ricardo hesitantly approaches, his step growing more confident as he nears with nothing underhanded happening. When they meet halfway, shaking hands easily, Ricardo too smiles at him. "Raw will be much quieter without you," he tells him simply. "Good luck in whatever you do from here. I'm sure you'll be successful in whatever it is, your gym is remarkable after all."
"Grazi!" he exclaims, clapping Ricardo cheerfully on the back. "Yes, wells, I will have plenty to keep me busy and perhaps I shall return in some capacity to the WWE in the future! I hears there is a shortage in General Managers and all. But for now, I think I would like to reconnect with one Glamazon Beth Phoenix, see if she's up for a little Glamarella reunion in our post-career celebrations!" He grins at Ricardo and, offering one last air trumpet blast for the road, marches down the hallway towards the door. After one last, wistful look back at all of the bustling in the hallways, only just beginning to calm down now that the show is over, he leaves.
Alberto approaches and claps a hand on Ricardo's shoulder. "What a bizarre, bizarre man."
"Si, but I think he's ok," Ricardo says quietly, remembering their matches- the tuxedo match, the tag match where he had tagged with Beth and they beat Santino and Layla, a rare highlight of his in-ring career in the WWE. He wonders how Beth will handle Santino randomly showing up on her doorstep, shaking his head in amusement. "Come, let's go meet up with the others and see if Mike's face is really ok."
"Oh, yes, let's, I'm so very anxious about that," Del Rio says drily, making Ricardo laugh as they once more walk away, side by side.
The next morning, AJ and Ricardo stand a few feet away from each other, watching as Paige and Mike prepare to leave with a limited roster of the other superstars to head for a short tour of Japan, the divas champion kissing Mike slowly before he disappears behind TSA checkpoints and other lengthly lines where she can't follow him. Likewise, Paige is standing with Ricardo, his fingers lightly brushing her knuckles, and she smiles at him. "I'll miss you," he admits softly, feeling a little ridiculous- she would only be gone a few days, and he would be busy with his own traveling, but still.
When she leans into him, her breath tickling against his face, he looks at her. "I'm going to miss you too," she tells him. "I wish you could come with."
"So do I," he mumbles regretfully. "But have a great time, si? And be careful." She nods, blinking at him as he leans closer, preparing to kiss her cheek- but she subtly turns her face at the last moment and he ends up kissing her on the mouth, tensing up and pulling away almost immediately as she grins against him. "Eh, eh- lo siento, I-"
She laughs and shakes her head, eyes warm with fondness for him. "Silly." She erases the little bit of space between them and kisses him, leaving no doubt that that's what she'd wanted the entire time. "I have to go." She's the regretful one now, leaning her forehead against his. "I'll see you soon, Ricardo."
"Yeah, right, see you," he says, dazed.
She giggles before disappearing from sight.
AJ slinks up behind him and rolls her eyes at the distant look still on his face, snapping her fingers in front of his face until his gaze clears. "You are hopeless," she tells him before turning and skipping away towards the exit.
The damned thing is he knows she's right. Sighing, he turns and follows her, burying his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Main Event will be soon, and they both plan on being there, AJ to pass the time without Mike and Ricardo wanting to be there for Alberto, win or lose. He's glad for this when Alberto's match is announced as Last Man Standing, the words leaving a familiar tingle down his spine. Del Rio had won the World title for the first time in such a match, it had become sort of his niche, and Ricardo thinks he has a good chance, the look on Alberto's face leading him to believe he thinks the same thing.
But it falls apart and Alberto can't stand after a hardfighting match where the deciding factor is yet another Brogue Kick, Alberto unable to find the strength to make it to his feet. Once they arrive backstage, Ricardo takes him from the referee, holding him close to keep him from falling over. "Quiero ir a casa," he says dully, head flopping forward with each step. "Por favor, mi amigo..."
Ricardo's chest twists in sympathy as he strokes Alberto's sweaty, hot side, nodding. "I know, I know, El Patron. Soon, si? Our flight is early, we'll go home then and Sofia will take good care of you." He swallows, realizing he'd just called Alberto's home his as well, but... it had never stopped feeling like home, no matter how comfortable he may have become at Alex's over the months. He sighs and eases Alberto down on a bench, pulling his bag closer and finding some clothes for him. "All dress clothes, El Patron," he chides lightly, shaking his head. "Ay." Too tight or constrictive, considering how sore and bruised Alberto already looks after the match. Changing his mind, he zips Alberto's bag back up and starts searching through his own, finding the Hecho en Mexico shirt and a pair of black sweats, easing his former employer into them.
He looks confused but also relieved to have the roomier, more comfortable clothes on, wincing with every movement. "Gracias, mi mejor amigo," he says lowly, gripping Ricardo's collar and staring up into his eyes when he tries to get him up from the bench so they can leave.
Ricardo nods. "Anytime, El Patron. Come now, let's go get some sleep before our flight in the morning." Alberto nods vacantly as Ricardo tugs him up, helps him walk out of the arena. "Thankfully I have no interviews for Smackdown, so I can spend some time with you and Sofia if you wish."
Alberto blinks, squeezing his shoulder almost hard enough to hurt. "You are welcome anytime, mi amigo, I have told you before and will continue to tell you until you believe me." Ricardo nods, looking a little pensive, and Del Rio decides to ease the tension in the air. "I suppose our company will help distract you from the fact that Paige isn't in Florida, hm?" Ricardo flushes and Alberto laughs breathlessly, the pain in his midsection not enough to stop his reaction
Both are relieved, for different reasons, when Alberto sinks right to sleep once Ricardo helps him into bed, his fingers curling around the sheets. "Rest well, El Patron," Ricardo murmurs before pulling his papers out and sketching one of the hardest things he's worked on in ages- a pencil lined portrait of a certain black haired diva. He winces, unsure if he'll ever make it look as flawless as its subject, picking his pencil up and setting back to work on it with determination.
