"Ya know, it's pretty much asking for trouble," John Morrison's voice breaks into Miz's thoughts, stopping him midstep as he heads down a hallway, minding his own business for once.

He sighs, running his fingers through his short hair. "What's that?" he asks, trying to sound disinterested as he turns to face his tag partner. He doesn't think Morrison will have anything important to say but for the sake of keeping things between them on an even keel, he forces himself to stand still and listen.

"You teaming with R Truth and Daniel Bryan, not to mention Orton..." John grins, teeth bright and sharp against his tan as Miz rolls his eyes. "I give it five minutes before someone does something."

"Yeah, yeah," Miz mumbles, not wanting to admit the same thoughts are running through his mind. "You're just jealous you're not in the mix too. You maybe could still get involved, take Mark Henry's place or something. Then it'd be all kinds of complicated."

John shrugs, looking content to stay where he's at. "Nah, I'm good."

"Yeah, you need to stay free in case Santino needs rescued again, right? I see how it is." Miz smirks as he rolls his eyes. "Well, some of us have matches to get ready for so... see ya around, John."

"Yeah, see ya," he mumbles. As he watches Miz wander off, he wonders just how much of this match is more of the Email GM attempting to mess with the man.
-

After the match, Mike is unsurprised when he enters the locker room and finds Morrison sitting on a bench, eyes closed. He rolls his eyes and spins the rental car keys around his finger, amused as John squints an eye open at him, half glaring at the rattling noise of metal on metal that's disrupting his concentration. "Did you watch the main event at all?"

"I watched enough of it," he comments, unfolding himself from sitting cross-legged on the hard wood. "I imagine you enjoyed sticking it to Orton a bit, huh?"

"Just showing him what he has to look forward to as soon as I can cash in my briefcase." Miz stiffens almost as soon as the words are out of his lips, knowing what Morrison's probably going to bring up now that he's said something about it.

John peers up at him as he quickly stuffs his ringwear into his duffle bag and forces the zipper closed so fast that it's a wonder it doesn't get stuck. He knows he could easily bring up the tag team titles once more but he doesn't want to rehash it again- mentioning it in the past has always caused arguments between he and Mike. So he lets it go, watching quietly as Mike finishes throwing his things together.

Mike looks over at him, relaxing once he sees that John isn't going to bring up the tag belts. For now, at least. He knows they need to discuss it but he's not ready to go there, not willing to let go of the high he's on just yet. "You ready to go?" They've agreed to try traveling together again after last week, and Miz finds that he feels like it never really stopped, things returning to normal easily enough despite the loss of the gold.

"No, not yet." At Mike's searching side glance, John smiles. "I hear there may be some of the cakes from Santino's tea party leftover at catering. I heard he ordered more than he actually needed so... maybe we can get a few before we leave."

Miz blinks a couple times, remembering seeing those cakes for a split second, before pocketing the rental car keys and shrugging. They did look pretty good. "Sure, why not. I guess Santino's good for something, at least."

"Are there any strawberries left?" Alex asks, startling Morrison and Miz.

"Where did you come from?" both men snap, staring at him, before leaving the locker room. Alex shrugs and follows, unbothered by their reaction.