"I'm sorry," Star greets John as he approaches her, staggering and obviously sore after Aztec Warfare. He had come in second, losing only to Prince Puma... but it still rankles, all but proving what Cueto had implied when he'd claimed luck of the draw had made Morrison #2 in the battle. Even so, he forces a smile for her and hugs her back when she loosely wraps her arms around his waist. "You did so well, however. I am proud of you."
"You did pretty good too," he tells her with a smile. "Made it into the top four and got some revenge against Chavo... you proud of yourself?"
"Somewhat," she says, also feeling the sharp disappointment of losing after coming so far. "Tomorrow is another day, si?" He nods thoughtfully, stroking her hair out of her eyes as he stares down at her. "What is it?"
"I have an idea," he smirks. "Go get dressed, I know what we need to do to cheer up." She raises her eyebrows at him but rushes off to do as he'd ordered, disappearing to the left while he goes to the right. Once they meet back at his car, he drives as quickly as he can to the apartment, making a couple of quick calls to cash in some favors he's owed. When they arrive, everything's as he'd wanted and he grins, holding the door open for Star as she gapes around, in awe at what she finds waiting for them.
"Que...? Johnny, what is all of this?" she demands, trying to take in all of the shoes and dresses and everything else scattered around his apartment. "I don't understand."
He beams at her and catches her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "It's time for a little fashion show, Star," he tells her as she brushes her fingers against the delicate silk fabrics. "Let's find something for you to wear that's as close to your beauty as we can." Her blush, obvious despite her mask, makes him grin.
On the other side of the city, Mike is sitting on his couch with AJ curled up close to him, pondering how his friend had almost become the first Lucha Underground Heavyweight Champion, when AJ tugs on his hand. "Look," she breathes, pointing at the screen where the People's Choice Awards are droning on, Mike's eyebrows raising as he stares at the screen as well.
Finally the camera pans back around to stop on what she'd pointed out and he gasps slightly, shaking his head. "Johnny?"
"Who's sitting next to him?" AJ wonders, examining the woman in a black sequined dress with long, sleek blonde hair, and... "No way," she hisses as it clicks with both of them at almost the same time.
"Star!" Mike yelps.
"Holy crap, he got her out of her mask," she breathes, wondering how exactly he'd done that. "She's gorgeous."
Mike rests his head against hers and kisses her forehead. "She has nothing on you," he mumbles, grinning down at her when she tugs at his hand.
"Good response, husband," she hums, leaning into him and kissing him softly as he rubs her neck carefully, his gentleness with her since learning of her neck injury and the rehab it's requiring to get her back to 100% leaving her even more in love with him.
The next day, they laze around in bed, feeling no hurry to move despite the warm blue sky visible through the window. AJ strokes his shoulders for a moment before leaning over, pressing warm kisses against his neck. "You know," she breathes, "I think I want to return before the Rumble." He doesn't say anything for a moment and she shifts forward to look in his eyes. "Jason says I should be recovered by then. My rehab is going very well, so..." His blue eyes are fixed on her, a mess of emotions in his gaze that hurts her deep down to her core. She sighs painfully and cups his face, kissing him gently. "I'll never be able to make up the last few months to you, Mike. I know this."
"You were injured since before Summerslam and didn't say a word," he breathes. "But I'm not even angry at you anymore." He sits up and turns away from her, staring blankly at the sun shining down on their bed, making the fabric glisten like glitter. "I should've noticed that something was off... if I had done something wrong, and hurt you further, I... I would've never forgiven myself." Her warm hand rubbing up and down his spine seems not to reach him as he dwells on the weeks of signs that he must've missed, grimaces of pain or...
She presses herself against him and kisses his shoulderblades, shaking her head as tears fill her eyes. "No, no, husband," she murmurs. "You have nothing to feel guilty about. You have never hurt me, and this was my decision to keep everyone in the dark about my condition. I saw nothing but getting my divas title back, if anything had happened to me, it would've been my fault, not yours." He doesn't respond and she grips him tighter, desperate to get him to accept that he was innocent of any wrongdoing. "Please, Mike," she breathes against his skin, tugging him closer. "Listen to me..." When his hand rests on hers, gentle and loving, her heart breaks all over again but she forces herself to focus only on him, tilting his head and kissing him softly on the lips. "I love you, mi carino." Her rarely used nickname for him brings a smile to his face and she sighs in relief when he nuzzles against her. "Are you ok?"
"Yes," he sighs. "I love you too, sweetheart." Their eyes locked, AJ drifts around him to sit in his lap, stroking his jaw. "Just never put yourself through that again. I know your title is important to you, but I want to support you through anything..." His hands are warm on her legs as she leans into him to kiss him again, her eyes fluttering as he meets her halfway, all of their troubles melting away for those few, blissful moments. Soon, however, he pulls away from her and lightly kisses her eyes, remembering how scared he'd been that her vision was permanently affected, unaware of just how serious her condition was truly. "If Jason clears you," he tells her, brushing her hair back behind her ears, "I'll be glad to have you back on the road. It's been lonely, even with my shadow."
She grins and kisses him again before pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him, mischevious intentions obvious. "Good, now that that's settled," she hums, "I'm sure we can think of better ways to spend the afternoon than discussing this..."
-x
It's a gamble, Mike knows. He and Kane had never gotten along well, especially since Kane had become Corporate Kane, but he had never been one to give up. He even thinks he has Kane convinced that his match against the Usos should just be two teams, cutting the Dust Brothers out entirely, but then Mizdow screws it all up by spilling water all over Kane. Mike's life flashes before his eyes as he tries to diffuse the situation, but Kane merely returns the match to its prior conditions before ordering the two men to leave the office. They scamper off and Mike glares at Mizdow, wondering why he bothers having a stunt double at all when he gets in more trouble with one than without. Striking out, he slaps Mizdow upside the back of his head, Daring him to do anything in response, Mike's glare turns into a sneer when the man merely swats out and slaps himself in the exact same spot. "Thought so," he mutters before storming down the hall to get ready for the tag title match later on in the evening.
Alicia has a match, eaking out a victory against Naomi, and Mike smirks, happy for her. He glances over at Mizdow and points at the TV. "See, that's how I expected my tag partners to handle situations," he tells him grimly, already having a bad feeling about tonight. A triple threat tag match is already difficult enough, but with Mizdow clearly not on top of his game... well...
Their loss comes as no surprise to Mike, because of his doubts and fears, but still. It's annoying, and adds to his frustration towards Damien. "Dammit," he mumbles, relieved when the other man doesn't do anything, not even mirroring his actions for now. His spirits do rise, a bit, however, when Alex calls him later that night. "Hey, man, what's going on?"
"I've been booked in California live events over the weekend," he tells him, clearly excited. "Are you-?"
"Oh man, I wish," Mike sighs. "I'm on the other cirquit in Louisiana. I'm sure you'll do great, kid. Bet you're glad to be back in the ring."
"You can't even imagine," he responds. "Well, I'll be sure to tell you all about it on Monday."
Mike nods. "Looking forward to it, Alex. See you then." They hang up and Mike stares at the road, Damien driving to the next town quietly next to him. He's relieved for the silence, not wanting to hear Mizdow's voice right now or anything else for that matter. As much as he's always been good in tag teams, it never takes that long before he begins to annoy his partner, or they do something to disappoint him. John and he had been the record, lasting years, but none since then had even come close... He sighs and ignores Mizdow's curious glance, relieved when they arrive at the hotel before the stunt double can find words to form the question clear in his eyes.
After a weekend of disappointing matches, Mike finds himself back at New Orleans, remembering Wrestlemania with a grimace- his losing the battle royal, AJ's title loss at Raw, everything that was going on during that period of time. It's a place that doesn't hold a lot of good memories for either of them, but she had decided to fly in anyway, get some face time with Jason before the event, so Mike is sitting with her, holding her hand while she's guided through one last round of exercises, the trainer's fingers deft and solid against her neck as he examines her. "Great," he tells her, seeming extremely pleased with her progress. "Keep doing these exercises, I'll check you once more before the weekend and maybe we'll be able to clear you before the weekend events. I know you want to be good to go before the event in New Jersey."
"Yes," she nods eagerly, looking forward to being back home, even if just for one night. "Thanks, Jason. You've been invaluable, as always." Mike's eyes are still locked on the trainer and AJ sighs, squeezing his hands. "Do you have something to tell my husband before you go, Jason?"
"Oh, right," he says awkwardly, turning to look at Mike. "I'm sorry I was unable to tell you about your wife's condition but I can't do much when HIPAA ties my hands. It wasn't my place to divulge-"
"I know," Mike sighs, the last of his anger fading away as he stares up at the man who'd helped so many of them through so many health crisises the last few years. "She's gonna be fine, there's been no serious harm done... so you're forgiven this time," he concedes, smirking as Jason relaxes. They go their separate ways, with promises to see each other soon and handshakes, before Mike leans in to kiss his wife goodbye, needing to go to the arena. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart."
"See you, husband," she echoes with a smile, content to stay in the hotel room, order some food, have some quiet time in the calming realization that she'll be back to work soon, her risk of continuing to work for three months after her injury not harming her career that significantly. She had been quite lucky...
He and Mizdow tape some things about the Golden Globes the night before, Mike barely able to keep a straight face as he talks about George Clooney wishing to be a Slammy winner like he himself is, but everything goes off track in the second one when he directs attention to Mizdow, who had mentioned earlier to him he had an idea to pitch about how to show the difficulties of a movie star's life. Mike dreads this decision desperately when Mizdow says that he's had cameras in every room of Mike's house the last six months, the film that he'd put together from that footage airing in theaters soon. Mike looks disgusted and horrified as the crew wisely send the cameras back out to ringside for the next match. "You cannot be serious!" he snaps at his stunt double. "You've been spying on me and AJ?! For six months?! What the hell kind of creep are you?"
Mizdow looks hurt for a moment, then steels his expression. "You were on The Real World, I thought this would be no big deal for you-"
"I signed up for that! There were contracts and legalese and all kinds of things, I knew what I was getting myself into, and it was in a controlled setting! It wasn't my house, cameras set up by a supposed friend of mine, especially when I'm sleeping? Are there ones in the bathrooms too? Huh?" Mizdow doesn't respond immediately and Miz hisses out a breath through his nose, unable to even imagine all of the things that Damien's seen and heard over the last few months. "Dammit, Damien! First you go around stealing phones and now this, what the hell am I supposed to do with this? I invite you over for Christmas and New Years, try to make you feel welcome in the group, I trust you and this is how you repay me?" With each word, Damien's face is falling, his large, expressive eyes showing how far Mike's words are digging, but Miz can't stop, can barely catch his breath as he considers just how huge a violation this truly is. "I defended you to AJ, I tried to be a good partner to you, because dammit, I did appreciate you sticking by my side through my knee injury and everything since, but this just... crosses a damn line, and you know it, or you wouldn't be looking at me like this! You know, I kinda felt bad for being so pissy since Naomi turned on me and cost us the tag titles, but no! You deserved it, and more."
He's just turned, prepared to stomp off, compete his match against Jey Uso alone, when Damien speaks up, desperate. "I'm sorry, Mike- I'm sorry! Please-"
"You know, I'm sick of people apologizing and then begging, pleading. Oh please this, please that... you can't stay mad at us, Mike, please, we knew not what we did," he mocks, turning back to glare at Damien. "Why can't you and AJ ever just be honest with me, or alert me when something major is clearly going to impact my life? That's all I need, dammit. I'm so tired of everyone keeping everything from me, am I really that awful of a person that no one wants to tell me anything until they have to?"
Damien falls quiet, having nothing to say in response to this, watching helplessly as Mike storms off, needing time to himself to cool down. He finds himself outside, shivering as the cool air abuses his bare flesh, causing him to grit his teeth as he buries his hands under his arms, lost in thought. He knows he won't be able to stay outside for too long, the weather too excruciating, but he can't tolerate being inside and facing Damien. Not yet. He paces around for awhile, trying to bring more warmth to his toes as they slowly grow numb, but it's not working, so he releases an aggravated sigh and pushes his way through the door, almost violently knocking Hornswoggle over on his way through.
As soon as he enters the locker room, Damien's head shoots up and they stare at each other for a few moments before Miz makes his way over to him, reluctantly sitting down next to him. "I don't like what you did," he mutters. "And I want those cameras removed from my house, say, yesterday but you've been a decent tag partner, so let's put it behind us for now. Alright?" Mizdow nods eagerly and Miz releases a breath, certain that this means they'll be able to move on, return to some level of normalcy... Even so, after the match, where Damien actually helps Miz to a victory, clearly an apology for what he's done, Mike waits until Damien is getting the car ready to drive back to the hotel when he places a call. "Hey, John? I know you're busy with Lucha Underground and everything else, but if you have some free time this weekend, I need you to do something..." His eyes clear as he listens to his former tag partner's easygoing response, explaining to him quickly what he needs before Damien returns, the phone hung up and back in Mike's pocket by then.
They drive back to the hotel silently, lost in their own thoughts, but the uneasy peace is quickly shattered when they enter the hotel room to find AJ waiting for them, her hands on her hips as she stares over Mike's shoulder at his stunt double. "Mike, may I speak to your stunt double for a moment?" she asks, her voice sugary-sweet, in the way that always causes him to shudder. He's glad that Damien's on the other end of her anger for once, nodding jerkily and walking past her to sit on the bed and watch the show. She stares up at him with a frown before poking him in the chest. "Where are all of the cameras? How long have you been filming us?"
He doesn't say anything for a long moment, swallowing hard. "A few months," he admits. "Since I first started as..." Her eyes flash angrily and he cuts himself off, staring down at her uneasily.
"And when will you remove them?" she demands, her head tilting as her smile turns dangerous.
"As, as soon as we're back in LA," he promises, releasing a breath when she hums and turns from him, skipping over to her husband. He stands there blankly until Mike waves a hand at him, effectively dismissing him. He all but dives into the bathroom to get ready for bed and AJ nuzzles into Mike, her hand twisting in his shirt.
"I don't trust him," she murmurs, the soft tease of her lips against his throat causing him to groan faintly.
"I don't either," he admits to her. "Not for this... I called John... as soon as he has a free day, he'll look around the house, make sure Mizdow didn't leave anything behind."
AJ looks relieved and leans up, kissing him deeply. "You are the smartest, best husband ever," she tells him with a smile. "Thank you."
He rubs his nose against hers before winking at her. "Of course, sweetheart. I don't know what he was thinking, but I'm not standing for it... I'll hire an expert in finding equipment like this if we still feel uncomfortable in our house after Morrison works his magic..." Her laughter at this is quickly muffled when he kisses her again, parting her lips with his thumb as they enjoy the few moments they get without Mizdow bothering them.