Mike sighs as he returns home after Smackdown, tilting his head. The house is quiet and he grins, heading straight for Sara's nursery. She's asleep in her crib, AJ sitting crosslegged in front of it while she stares fixedly at the TV they'd set up in the room, playing one of her video games. She'd been missing it so much, but unwilling to leave her daughter for too long should she get lost deep inside of one that finally Mike had suggested this compromise. She had stared at him like he was insane for a long moment before throwing herself in his arms. "You're a genius!"
He'd already known it, but it had still felt good to hear it. So now, to see her sitting here, playing quietly and hissing under her breath whenever things go poorly makes him chuckle as he sits down next to her with the intention of watching quietly just to be handed a controller. She doesn't say a word to him as she automatically changes the game from one player to two. "Time to kick your ass, husband," she whispers.
He grimaces upon finding that it's Borderland 2, which he isn't usually that good at, but he obliges her. She giggles every time he dies, the two of them trying to complete at least one stage in one piece before the baby wakes up and cries. Somehow Mike survives a mission and AJ doesn't, and he nearly jumps up and cheers until he realizes why AJ is glaring at him. "Sorry," he whispers, settling back down to continue playing quietly.
Ten minutes later, Sara starts to whimper as her nap comes to an end and AJ obligingly pauses the game and goes to tend to her, Mike joining her and staring down at their daughter as she wakes up and yawns, waving her little fists around. As her fusses grow louder, AJ lifts her up and hands her to Mike, putting away the controllers and turning off the video game. "Come on, let's get this little girl something to eat," she says softly, poking Sara's foot as she walks by, smiling over her shoulder at Mike as he obligingly follows her.
It's always nice to have a few days at home to decompress, to get his back on straight, maybe to relax a little bit. He's no introvert, but sometimes even he needs a break from the constant grind. After feeding Sara, and cooking up a quick meal of lasagna and garlic bread, Mike sits down with a sigh and smiles as AJ hums appreciatively over the food. He eats slowly, too tired to move too fast, and she watches him. "Are you ok?"
"Oh yeah," he says, swallowing down a bite of lasagna and a yawn. "I'm fine. Just tired." He's sore too, his match against Orton doing him absolutely no favors. Even with competing one less night a week, he's still feeling it. Especially after almost four months of holding the Intercontinental title and proving himself as a fighting champion week in and week out. AJ nods, patiently sitting with him as he slowly makes his way through the food, despite being finished long before him.
They check in on the baby once more and AJ allows Mike to use the bathroom first, his energy barely enough to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face before he heads to bed. She leaves him with a soft kiss to his lips before going to handle her own bedtime absolutions, Mike closing his eyes and sinking down against the pillows, still not finding any comfort on his stomach but unable to roll over and try another position. He's somewhat aware when AJ returns and slinks up the bed, hovering over him. Her hands are warm, soft, covered in a moisturizing lotion as she massages the muscles of his shoulders and down his spine. He whimpers and buries his face further in the pillow, breathing in deeply as she searches out his various aches and pains with her nimble fingers.
He's not sure when he falls asleep, exactly, but he wakes up the next morning feeling better than he has in quite awhile.
That Monday, he and Maryse are watching Raw after a weekend of live events when she tenses up next to him and he looks up curiously, realizing. "How does he keep getting into arenas?" Mike wonders, brows furrowing as they watch Heath Slater re-introduce Jinder Mahal to the crowd. It doesn't end well for Heath, of course, when Mick Foley puts Heath and Jinder in a match against each other to decide which of them should have a spot on the Raw roster. Jinder, of course, takes advantage while Heath has his back turned and pins him. As Heath stares on sadly, Maryse works over her lower lip with her teeth and Mike watches her curiously, not used to that expression on her beautiful face. "Are you ok?"
She jumps and turns to him. "Oh. Oui. Just... it is rather sad for Heath."
"Yes, it is," Mike acknowledges, eyeing her.
"I ... was able to get to know him on the set of Marine 5," she admits. "He's a nice man. He... deserves better."
Mike glances between her and the TV, nodding slightly. "Yes, I agree with you." He has his suspicions but he doesn't think it's his place to say anything. Still, the next night, when they arrive at the Smackdown arena in time for the event, and she disappears sometime after he gets released by the trainer following Baron Corbin hitting the End of Days on him, the #1 contender for the Intercontinental championship now known to be Apollo Creed, he thinks he knows where she's at. Or rather what she's doing.
It doesn't take long to find her lurking around the entrance to Smackdown, gazing around. Not that it takes much discretion, the security and Shane are all busy with Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman, so Mike stands against a nearby wall and watches her wave someone in, Heath sneaking in at her urging. He grins at her and lifts his sunglasses just long enough to really look at her. "Thanks, Maryse. I owe you one."
"No, you don't. Just go, get your job back."
He nods and slinks off, Mike immediately pulling away from the wall and joining Maryse, leaning against her as she pales and swallows hard. "So, you've got it bad for the resident ginger, huh?"
She pushes him away. "Absolutely not!" But her voice wavers and he smirks at her. "Tais-toi!"
He laughs at this until she sinks in on herself, looking away. He immediately grows somber. "Hey, Maryse, really, it's fine. If you like Heath, if you don't. He's been great to my wife and daughter, so you could pick a lot worse." She looks up at him, some hope in her dark eyes, and he smiles at her. "Besides, he reminds me of someone else we both know- ridiculous, goofy, and overly braggadocious sometimes but with a heart of gold. I guess you just have a type."
She rolls her eyes and fakes out a punch to his shoulder that he dodges, gripping her hand and pulling her in for a hug. "Everything's gonna be ok," he tells her. She nods in agreement and, when he lets her go, slips her hand into his as they walk side by side down the hall so they can go see what Heath's gotten up to. When they watch the replay of Rhyno goring Heath in Daniel and Shane's office, Maryse's hands shoot up to cover her mouth and Mike grimaces, immediately leading her to the trainer's office.
He's a little out of it, his ribs aching, but he's ok all in all. Mike agrees again to take Heath back to the hotel with them and he listens from his bed as Maryse takes care of him until he's comfortable enough to sleep. Turning to her once Heath's breaths even out, he whispers it again. "You've got it bad."
"I know," she responds after a moment, clearly blushing in the pale light of the lamp across from them.
He chuckles and curls up tighter in his sheets. "You should go for it," he murmurs before falling asleep too, leaving her to ponder his suggestion in silence.