Ebonyyyy- Glad I could help. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Friday Night Smackdown- 48 hours before Bragging Rights

Miz considers how the scene before him is mirroring Raw; team Smackdown stands face to face with team Raw, blue and red shirts marking the different allegiances within the ring. He listens impassively as his fellow team mates make their various challenges, only glancing up for a moment when Morrison challenges Alberto Del Rio. Despite the uncertainty that's been dogging him since Monday night, he struggles to keep up appearances- especially in enemy territory.

Team Raw still isn't clicking, however, Ezekiel Jackson and Sheamus' power just not enough to hold things together. One little mistake and he's down on the mat, looking up at the mocking lights overhead as Rey's music thrums through the arena.

Morrison is waiting as he stumbles past the titantron, towards the trainer's room for the usual post-match check and follows him quietly down one hallway and the next, as if waiting for something. They're almost at the little room when he turns to Morrison, glowering angrily. "This isn't working, is it?"

He's agitatingly calm as he asks, "What isn't working?"

"Team Raw. All of it. None of us are clicking- egos, different styles, none of it is mashing," he says in aggravation, lowering his voice half through the rant as he recalls where they're at. Big Brother is watching, he mocks himself, glancing around for a moment before returning his focus to John.

He shrugs, of all things, and steps closer, also lowering his voice. "We haven't had much time to gel, that's all. It'll be-"

"What? Different on Sunday? We'll miraculously gel then?" Miz sighs and turns back towards the trainer's room.

"Stranger things have happened," John comments before Miz can disappear from sight.

"This is becoming an uncomfortable theme," Mike says, leaning against the doorway of the trainer's room and watching as John's arm is checked out.

He turns to look at Miz before smirking slightly, nodding. "I guess it is." It's his turn to look aggravated now, feeling the effects physically and emotionally of losing to Alberto Del Rio so close to Bragging Rights.

As the trainer continues doing his thing, Miz enters the room fully and sits near Morrison, looking away as his tag partner winces while his arm is rotated carefully. "His arm isn't gonna fall off, is it?" he asks inanely after a few moments, watching his own fingers as he taps them against his thigh.

"No," the trainer says, finishing his examination finally. "Just needs to rest it and-"

"Ice it," both men finish his sentence for him, well versed in what all trainers seem to recommend.

He blinks in surprise, mouth turning down as he stares at them. "Er, yes."

"He hates us," Miz says almost gleefully as they leave, John awkwardly shrugging back into his red shirt.

"You take too much pleasure in annoying people," he responds.

"I used to not be alone in that," he mumbles as they enter the locker room on the far side of the arena set aside for the Raw team. Morrison doesn't respond.

Tired of Raw getting the shaft, Miz grabs Alex Riley and they rush out as Punk vs Edge carry on. It becomes a complete brawl as Kofi comes out, takes Alex out. Miz pays him back with a Skull Crushing Finale but that weird new guy whose name always slips Miz's mind runs down and attacks him. He's still dazed, blinking fruitlessly, when Tyler disappears from his sight and he rolls out of the ring to safety. Propping himself up on the apron, he watches as Morrison- bad arm and all- takes Tyler out, just to get kicked in the face by Alberto Del Rio and falling out of the ring on the other side.

As the rest of Team Raw and Smackdown run down, the rest of his teammates do very little to stop Smackdown. He groans and falls back against the floor, wondering why this is all going so very wrong.

"We really have to stop meeting like this," Morrison comments, body thrumming with tension even as he speaks casually. The trainer ignores them both this time as he tiredly examines John's eyes and reaction time, checking for a concussion or anything more serious following Del Rio's attack.

Miz snorts and doesn't bother entering the room this go around, content to staying in the doorway. "Maybe we should just all stay in here. Feels like I've been in here more tonight than the actual locker room."

"Tell me about it," John mumbles.

"You're fine," the trainer finally comments, moving away.

"Thanks," he replies, getting up and once more joining Miz in the hallway. He notes that Alex Riley is standing a few feet away, as if waiting on him too, and he raises an eyebrow.

"A-Ri and I are leaving," Miz explains. "If you want a ride..."

Oh, he thinks, surprised by the offer. "Sure," he responds after a moment.

Bragging Rights

Miz is pacing around the locker room set aside for Team Raw, ignoring Morrison's pointed stare as he goes back and forth, left and right before returning to step one. Even a knock on the door doesn't distract him from his path as he turns sharply at the corner and heads straight across from the door.

John sighs and walks around him, making sure not to trip over him as he opens the door. One glance into the hall and he turns back to his team mates. "I'll be back in a minute," he says, voice strangely subdued as he walks into the hallway and closes the door behind him. "What do you want?"

Michael Cole stands before him, looking shifty and a little nervous as he holds a piece of paper out towards Morrison. "I received this email just now. Not sure how to tell you so I figured printing it out would be a better way of going about it..." As soon as John takes the paper, Cole nods and almost dashes down the hallway, as if scared to be around for the fallout.

To:

From: [UNKNOWN]

Subject: Bragging Rights

Due to Raw's abysmal showing on Smackdown this week, I've decided there will be another match held during Bragging Rights. Tonight, there will be a tag team title match. The Miz and John Morrison vs two members of the Nexus.

Morrison closes his eyes as soon he reads that final word, dread coursing through his body as he considers the repercussions of this. "Dammit," he mumbles, reluctantly heading into the locker room to tell Miz this latest piece of bad news.

Morrison is picking aimlessly at his clothes, thinking about ways to get through tonight without losing the tag belts or losing to Smackdown, when Miz storms out of the locker room, Alex Riley following behind. "Let's go," the stressed out Raw leader orders him, his jaw clenched so tightly that John's teeth hurt just looking at him. Alex starts to follow them when Miz turns on his heel, facing Alex. "Stay here. I don't want to give the GM any more motivation to screw with us," he snaps before turning and walking resolutely down the hall.

Morrison glances back at Alex for a moment before jogging to catch up with his tag partner. He actually feels sympathetic for the younger man, knowing how hard it can be to deal with Miz during one of his moods, but he quickly shakes the thoughts from his mind. He has to focus on the tag belts right now and nothing else.

He frowns as John Cena and David Otunga head down the ramp a few minutes later, Otunga looking confident and at ease- a perfect contrast of the miserable look on Cena's face. Cena looks about tense as Miz does, Morrison thinks with a grimace.

Miz insists on starting off against David Otunga, simply shaking his head when Morrison offers to go first. They feel each other out for a bit before going into a lock-up, which Otunga gets the upper hand of after a few moments, slamming Miz down onto the mat. He's up within seconds, the anger on his face growing in intensity as he punches almost blindly at the larger man.

Otunga dodges it and lunges to grab Mike but he moves at the last second, causing him to overshoot, running right into the corner where Morrison waits. As John grabs David and holds him in place, Miz runs forward and clotheslines him into the turnbuckle. Morrison lets go as Miz regains his balance but even that is too much time as David pushes away from the buckle and punches Morrison, dazing him long enough for Otunga to shoulder check Miz and make it to his corner, tagging in Cena.

Morrison refocuses on the match in time to catch sight of a disgusted frown on Cena's face as he whips Miz into the opposite corner before tugging him forward and suplexing him hard, standing back up as Mike spasms on the mat. Cena notices at the same time that Morrison does that he's within reach of Otunga, who's reaching out for a tag. He quickly side steps and refuses the tag, unaffected by his tag partner's incensed glare.

As they argue, Miz inches towards Morrison, who's struggling to reach out far enough for the tag. Finally Mike makes it and John enters within seconds, taking the opportunity and punching Cena as soon as he turns around. Before Cena can respond, Morrison lunges forward and kicks him in the side of the skull, following it up with a running knee to the jaw. Soon as Cena's down, he covers him, watching carefully as Otunga rolls his eyes and makes no move to help his tag partner. Cena kicks out at two and Morrison rolls off, quickly returning to his corner to get some space between them.

"Let me back in," Miz says with a glare towards Cena. He tags in and runs in while Cena's still down, catching him around the jaw with a vicious lock, wrenching on his neck.

Bet he's envisioning doing it to the computer GM, Morrison thinks as Cena struggles and abruptly begins to get his second wind. Oh crap. He leans as far over the top rope as he dares, still clinging to the tag rope. "MIZ!" But it's too late as John lifts his arms up inch by painful inch and overpowers Miz, breaking his hold.

Before Morrison can even blink, Cena has Miz by the arm and is hitting him repeatedly with shoulder blocks, drawing the breaths from his lungs a little more with each strike. He tries lifting Miz up and Morrison moves to enter the ring while the referee's attention is elsewhere but Mike slips free and dives for his corner, quickly slapping John's outstretched hand.

It happens really fast- Morrison's entering the ring and running towards Cena, trying to get the upperhand, but he's ready for him, leaning over as soon as he's in range and lifting him, flipping him over his shoulder onto the mat hard. Morrison groans and twists away, his back protesting the hard landing as Miz yells something indecipherable at him. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes in time to see Cena flying down and hitting him square in the jaw.

Otunga starts demanding for a tag again which is just the amount of time Morrison needs to put space between him and Cena, fumbling back to his corner. As he sits against the turnbuckle to catch his breath, Miz reaches down and tags himself in, grabbing Cena from behind. Morrison can do nothing but watch, the pain throbbing up his back clear to his jaw slowing his attempts to stand, as Cena immediately puts a stop to the Skullcrushing Finale attempt and knocks him to the mat, locking in the STF. As Miz begins to tap, Morrison closes his eyes and lets out a tired breath. Dammit.

Cena lets go of the move quickly and grabs his tag belt when the ref arrives with it, ignoring Otunga completely as he leaves the arena. Morrison turns his head to watch as Miz's eyes open and he realizes what exactly just happened, a frantic kind of look appearing in his eyes as his lips twist in anger.

"What the hell do we do now?" Miz demands, kicking at the wall of the Raw locker room. "Dammit!"

Alex looks like he wants to say something, his mouth opening but Morrison catches the motion out of the corner of his eye and shakes his head at the younger man warningly. He obediently keeps quiet, looking down at his hands as he waits for his mentor's rant to end.

"I had it all! US title, Money in the Bank, tag title... My career actually was starting to seem like my own again for a bit, but now... now we're back to step one. I don't- I just can't believe I have to start all over again." His face is an unhealthy shade of red and Morrison decides it's time to try to appease him.

"Look, it's not ideal, but we have a rematch clause- we'll..."

"Screw that!" Miz interrupts, eyes flashing as he rounds on Morrison. For his credit, he stops a few inches away, careful not to completely get in John's face. "We'll what? Face Nexus again and get a DQ victory or count-out or... who knows, who cares? There's five of them, maybe seven if Harris and McGullicuty get accepted in. There's no chance, Morrison. I can't cash in without the tag belts but I honestly have no idea how we're going to get them back right now." He looks from John to Alex and shakes his head in anger. "I need some air." Before either man can say anything, he storms from the room, purposely ignoring the other Raw team members who clutter the hallway since being kicked out after the tag team match.

As soon as he's gone, Alex and Morrison glance at each other. "Well... that could've gone better," John mutters as Alex nods reluctantly.

He tries to fight, he really does, but he's distracted, his focus shattered as Miz shifts anxiously behind him, so it's almost not a surprise when he's eliminated mere moments after R Truth. He purposely keeps his eyes averted from Miz, not wanting to see the disgust and/or anger that has to be lurking there, and follows his former tag partner's path back to the locker room where they sit in strained silence, Santino already there mumbling quietly to himself as they watch Team Raw hold their own for awhile just to slowly get picked off one by one until Miz is the last one left.

When he's finally defeated, Sheamus starts talking loudly about how he could've been a better captain and the freshly arrived Punk argues his own case about how he actually had knowledge as a leader so after listening for awhile, Morrison stands and leaves the room quietly, leaving the loud "discussion" on going behind him. He's halfway to the parking garage when he finds Miz heading for the Raw locker room, a mulish look on his face. Despite his better judgment, he holds a hand out, blocking Miz's path. "You don't want to go in there, trust me."

"I trusted you with plenty tonight, look what that's gotten me," he says, voice low and dangerous. "Move."

Morrison closes his eyes and moves aside, watching quietly as Miz brushes past him and continues on his way. Shrugging, John turns around and resumes walking towards where his rental car is waiting.

Thus, he doesn't see as Miz says quietly, "Come on, Alex," and turns to the left, turning away from the arguing that they can hear from the second doorway on the right.

It seems like a silent agreement that they avoid each other during the show, giving themselves time for the post-Bragging Right tension to ease away, so Miz is almost not sure what to do as he walks out to the parking garage and finds Morrison throwing his duffle bag into the rental parked next to his. Never one to back down from an awkward confrontation, however, he motions Alex ahead and they begin stuffing their bags into the car, both ignoring Morrison as he watches them.

"What are you staring at?" Miz finally asks, tired of the silent stare as he looks up to find him still standing by his car, playing around with the keychain.

John ignores the question and shrugs. "You feel better after taking out your anger on Truth?"

"What, are you here to get vengeance for your little friend?" Mike asks before he can stop himself, stifling the wince that wants to make an appearance as Morrison's eyes flash dangerously.

"I thought we were over this," he says quietly.

"We are," Miz says, suddenly feeling tired. "It's just been a crappy week, alright?"

"True."

In an attempt to diffuse things a little more, Miz smirks. "What's up with you and Santino anyway? Hoping he'll teach you the cobra?"

"Uh, no. I just don't like Sheamus, so I figured why not."

He nods, a little surprised at the straight forward answer. I can respect that. "Right, you just want Kozlov to stop glaring at you every time you go by him in the hallway," he says. "What better way than to help his tag partner."

Morrison rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. I don't think that guy will ever stop glaring at anyone." He pauses, suddenly stilling the keys in his hand and looks over at Miz. "We need to discuss the tag titles soon, you know?"

Miz nods with a vague sigh. "I know. We will. Just... not now."

"Ok. See you next week." Without waiting for an answer, John enters his car.

"Yeah, next week." With a quick glance back at the pale gold rental car, Miz enters his own and nods at Alex. "Let's get out of here."