Mike stares absently at the wall of their house. There are no end to the wrestling replicas covering the shelves he'd painstakingly hammered in one afternoon. AJ's divas title, his intercontinental, US, tag belts, Slammys, even a couple of the silly Mizzies. The WWE title has prime placement by itself at the very top, on a blue velvet pillow no less, and he sighs, tapping his jaw as AJ sneaks up behind him and presses a kiss between his shoulderblades. "Do you think we'll have room for another briefcase?" he wonders.
She laughs. Shifts so she's standing in front of him and curls her fingers around his neck, palm warm on the fringe of his hair. "Someone's definitely sure of themself," she teases him, eyes gleaming. When he nods, teasing her by holding his lips a few inches away from hers, she tsks. "I imagine we could make room, yes."
"You're the best, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her. She hums into his mouth and arches up, sighing happily. "It's going to be a great summer." His hands are warm on her hips, and she exhales his name softly as he hoists her up and stares at the shelves, AJ smiling a little as she looks upon her own titles and accolades from years past.
"Yeah, it will," she agrees, curling her legs around him and holding on as he kisses her shoulder, her neck, every bit of bare skin he can reach. She giggles and shifts her touch to cup his face, resting her forehead against his and staring deep into his eyes. "Win or lose- but I'm sure you will win- I love you and I'm so proud of you."
His slightly hurt pout morphs into a brilliant grin as he spins her around, kissing her deeply. "I love you too," he sighs. "I can't wait to bring back that briefcase."
"Hopefully Sara doesn't get her hands on it," AJ laughs. "It'll have a bunch of toys in it the next time you see it."
He thinks for a minute. Then shrugs. "I'd be alright with that." He kisses her again and she beams up at him.
For sure, toys in his briefcase would be fine. Give him a laugh, at least, when he would see them and realize what exactly happened.
Pancakes, however... the one breakfast food that's been haunting his dreams the last few weeks thanks to the New Day... yeah, those things in his briefcase, not so much. He feels almost traumatized, the syrup and butter they'd slathered the things with stuck to his fingers, to his knees from where he'd hit the floor and yelled about the pancakes not belonging where he'd found them.
He's still not sure if his as of yet unknown opponent will be Kofi, Xavier or BIg E, but he supposes a little extra time to reflect, think up individual game plans for each of them, sure that they won't do him much harm, is a good idea.