Wick was as uninterested as it was possible to be.

Books were fine, if you were big enough to read them. He wasn't capable of getting any off the shelves by himself, short of shoving them off and opening them when they hit the floor. Fortunately, he wasn't interested in making the effort at the moment, or the people in the room might have had a little surprise when books fell off the shelf, and their pages were turned by an invisible hand...

(He had to use both hands, actually - the pages were too wide for him to be able to move them one-handed).

Sighing, the inches-tall faery leaned back against the set of dusty hardcover books he was sharing a shelf with. He'd chosen a dimmer corner of the shop so he wouldn't risk discovery. Even if he'd made himself invisible, that was no protection against accidents. He'd hoped he'd get a few moments to nap, undisturbed. A nice, quiet bookstore like Jacobson's was just the place, with its innumerable nooks and corners.
From his perch on the fifth level of a shelf, Wick looked down, scratching at the cast on his arm. It should have been off by now, but he hadn't been able to break it off yet, as much as he'd tried. His babyish face scrunched up in a frown. It had to come off sometime, didn't it? He was sure it had to. His arm was fine, now, as was everything else. Even the hangover he'd acquired after that irresponsible little drinking binge he'd had the other night. He'd had a headache so bad, his hair hurt. He ran a hand through the messy ginger tangles of said hair, at the memory.

He wouldn't be chugging any more mystery drinks anytime soon, that was for sure.

Unfortunately for that cute little faery up there, it was about to get a rude awakening.

Remus, who enjoyed going into this book store, stood on his tippie toes, even climbing like book cases a little (don't tell the employees!), blindly reaching for that book. Right by the faery. He spotted its' peeling gold letter with his very own emerald green eyes. Surprising he could see that with the fringe of sandy blonde hair blocking his view, eh?

Anyways, his fingers closed around the binding and maybe even the faery. He started tugging, just a little. Good. It was loose. Tipping it a little, he read the top of the title. Good, good, just the book he wanted. Letting himself down from the book cases, he jumped down onto the floor, rocking on his heels a tiny bit.

Not being the most graceful person in the world, despite being a model, the book went flying out of his hand, only to let Remus see it fall to its' doom. Exaggerating, but still. DOOM!

Why? Why did this always happen?!

Wick clamped his mouth shut as he watched the human's hand get really, really close - and only then did he think to move. Unfortunately, he did it a little too late, and his sleeve got pinned to the book's cover by Remus' fingernail. He tried to squirm out of it, buuut... it didn't work.

"Oh, bloody hell..." he muttered miserably, watching the floor below his feet as he scrabbled for a hold, on something, - anything! as the book started to fall, and him with it. He was just lucky enough to snag onto the hem of Remus' shirt by his sharp, clawlike fingernails. He dug in and held on tight, gasping.

"Watch what you're doing, you nitwit!" he snapped.

"...Nitwit? Who said that?" Remus spun around on his heels, looking behind him. No one was there. So, he spun around again, and he found out that, still, no one was there.

"Er.. Hello?" The arm that was carrying Wick came up to run a hand through his hair, "I guess maybe I'm hearing things now."

He took advantage of the change in altitude to drop onto Remus' shoulder, clinging tightly to his shirt (and maybe pinching the skin a little - he wasn't being too careful). He was only seven inches tall, and so didn't weigh much ... still, the change should have been noticeable.

"It was me, nitwit. You're not hearing things." Wick grumbled irritably. He didn't care whether Remus could see him or not, whether he was going to squish him or not - he had had it up to here with people coming close to killing him. He'd had enough of it.
To hell with caution.

"You oughta be more careful, I coulda been crushed," he said sulkily.

Remus turned his head when he felt the pinch. His head suddenly whipped to the side and he just missed Wick by mere hair widths away. "You are really, REALLY tiny." He reached up and plucked the tiny boy off his shoulder and held him right in front of his eyes, staring at him. "Are you actually alive?" He grabbed wick by one of his tiny arms as lightly as he could and tried to stretch him slowly.

"Not as tiny as your brain," the faery retorted, scowling. He looked so young - it was nearly impossible for him to make himself look really angry or threatening. At best, it could be compared to a puppy growling. "I'd have to be the size of a pea to manage that.."

When Remus picked him up, he let out a sound best described as a squeal.
He hated being picked up.

"Yes I'm alive - ouch! Let go, you dolt, that hurts!"

Remus' face cracked into a grin, "So you are alive." Remus was smart, but it was only with the way of books. Wick seems to be in for a long, long encounter.

He dropped the squeaking faery onto the palm of his hand so that he could now examine without having to balance holding onto his tiny limbs nd not grabbing him so hard. "What's your name?" Occasionally, he'd poke at Wick. "My name's Remus."

Mrrrr.

Wick frowned. The human seemed pretty calm about this - either he was Innish, or he was Unnish and was planning on sticking him a jar or something, or taking him to scientists to be studied and cut up. He already had the uncomfortable feeling of being observed - and the poking didn't help much, either.

Grumbling a little, he finally answered, "Wick. You can call me Wick."

Well, being angry didn't seem to help. Maybe if he was nice, he'd be let go sooner.

"Well, I wanna talk to you." So he dropped Wick into the front pocket of his shirt, merrily going on his way, picking up the book of 'All you need to know about being a water mage.'. "Just randomly talk. So, because you're a lot smaller than me, you're probably stuck to me talking your ear off." He wanted to talk to other than someone that'll stare and take him face value for looks.

Obviously, Remus saw something different in an angry faery. Or maybe he just liked to ruffle up his proverbial feathers.

"Talk to me?" Wick inquired, puzzled, "Just... randomly talk...? Well,... um,... okay..."

He could be quite talkative on occasion, and it was likely that Remus would get his ears talked off, instead of Wick's own rather pointed ones. Which had several small metal earrings in them. Secretly, he thought they made him look tough.

".. um... What're you gonna do with me, Remus?" he asked.

"Talk? What else? It's not like I can offer to buy you coffee or something. You'd drown in it first. Plus, so much caffiene in your system would be fatal, wouldn't it?" Remus picked a nice, secluded corner and started flipping through the pages. "What were you doing up there anyways?"

"Iunno," Wick shrugged, still looking confused. What a weird guy this human was. "I don't like coffee. It's gross. And it's always way too hot, - and when it's not, it's even more disgusting."

He crossed his arms and looked at Remus reproachfully.
"I was up there, 'cause I was going to take a nap. No chance of that now, thanks to you." he pouted.

He laughed, "Sorry, I couldn't help it. I was just reaching for this book and you happened to be there. Not my fault." he raised an eyebrow, looking down in his pocket at Wick. "Are all small people that grouchy? Maybe you do need coffee now. Even if you don't like it."

"I'm not grouchy, and coffee won't help," he said emphatically, trying to make the first half of the statement true by erasing the frown from his face. He didn't attempt a smile yet, knowing it would come out wrong. "I dunno if all small people are grouchy. I've never met any others. But I'd bet you'd be grouchy if someone came outta nowhere and picked you up just when you were trying to sleep..."

"Well, I'll give you that. I'd be very angry if I was attempting to go to sleep. Though, I don't think you're asleep now." He reached in with his pinky and tried to stretch Wick's cheek a little as he would while teasing a normal sized person. "Oh, the frown has vanished! Maybe they're not so grouchy now. Must admit, like you, you're a first for me. The smallest, other than you, was a midget."

Wick didn't want to smile at being teased like this, but did. A small smirk crept onto his face - now wasn't that better?

"Mnnn..." he muttered, trying to push Remus away, "Well, I'm not a midget.... I'm just very, very, very small. Compared to you, anyways. I don't know if I'm small for someone of my kind,... I'd like to know, though. I'd hate to find out I was even small for my sort."

"Then you'd truly be a midget." While Wick tried to push him away, Remus got amused by how little his hands were. Just a little bit, he pushed at his hands, "Your hands are so tiny too! You could live in those doll houses that are in one of the windows down the street. Nice smile by the way."

"Well, yeah, I guess I could do that if I wanted," Wick said, giggling a little and redoubling his efforts to get Remus to stop poking at him, "But I don't want to. I'm not a toy. Been there, done that - not by my own choice. I've also been in a shoebox, a lunchbox, a - an aqurari - , dangit, aquarium, and lately, a big glass bottle. So I'd rather stay out of things like that."

(Wick, being so small, even had trouble with words being too big for him - such as, say, 'aquarium' and 'preposterous'.)

Oh, if Remus only knew, he'd laugh til he cried about the big words deal.

"Oh? Sounds interesting. How about shoes and clocks?" Remus finally stopped poking when he decided Wick's little arms must be getting tired. "I wouldn't be happy if I had to live in a bottle or an aquarium."

He shook his head, more than a little relieved that he wasn't being poked at anymore. He wasn't the Pillsbury doughboy, after all, and there was only so much he could take before he stopped giggling, and started scratching.

"Shoes? No," Wick wrinkled his nose, "For one thing, they smell like feet. Second, I'd get stepped on sooner or later. And as for clocks, - nobody'd want to live in a clock, they're always ticking and it's really, really annoying. Couldn't stand it. Aquariums an' bottles are just as bad, 'cept they're quiet, but people tap on the glass and that's almost worse."

AGH! That's Pillsbury Doughboy gone wrong! Amusing to hear 'stopped giggling and started scratching'.

"Oh, you've got a point. How did you like the tapping? I'd assume you'd get that a lot. Oh, and screaming. How many people see tiny people living in glass containers? I think I can say for myself that I never experienced that." Remus was quiet just for a moment, before he thought of something else. "What about jewelry boxes or vases? Just like 'I dream of Jeanie'."

"Some people scream," Wick observed, "But mostly they just try to hit me, or catch me, or throw stuff at me."

He laughed brightly at the next question.
"No. No, no, no. That's just silly," he protested, shaking his head and grinning, "I mean, maybe if I was a girl - which I'm not. And Jeannie always struck me as being kinda daft, anyway."

"She was, but she had a really great home, don't you think? Had the cushions EVERYWHERE." He loved it. It was his favorite part about that show. "Oh! I thought of a similarity between you two. You both get screamed at and shaken about. She did get beat up a lot. Maybe you can bite them and be like a vicious horror movie creature."

Wick tilted his head to one side, and thought about it for a moment.

"Yyyyeah," he said slowly, nodding, "She had a cool home, but she had to be stuck in it all the time 'til someone let her out, and that'd be no fun at all, no matter how nice the place was."

You know, now that Remus mentioned it...
"Mm-hm, you're right,... we're alike, that way. Getting tossed around and beaten up isn't much fun, though. Hee hee... " (he liked the idea of 'vicious horror movie creature') "...That'd be awesome. 'Cept I wouldn't bite. My nails are way sharper than my teeth, so I'd just claw 'em instead."

"Oh, well, that part sucks. I definitely wouldn't want to be stuck in a bottle then. She should have been conniving and found a way out that she could be free. Stupid Jeanie.." Oh yes, the anger turns on her!

"Eeh, So that's what was poking me? Those hurt. You should get them filed." Remus, again, wasn't thinking a lot. Wick just might need his nails to survive. "Well, either way, I suppose it'd be better to be an evil creature of doom than Jeanie."

"I'd much rather be an evil creature of doom, than a Jeanie," Wick observed, frowning and contemplating his sharp, clawlike nails. He tentatively poked Remus with one of them, through the fabric of his shirt, "If I got them filed, then I couldn't do this, could I? 'N then how'm I supposed to defend myself?"

"I guess not. They always are made to follow people's wishes and getting asked if they can have three would get anno- OW!"

Apparently, his nails are sharp. "You should get 'em filed so you can't do that! It feels like getting a spliter or stung by a bee!" Which were equally unpleasant. He had half a mind to swat the little boy. "Good for defense, but not for hurting innocent people!" Which Remus immediately put on a pouty look.

"Sorry,... sorry," Wick apologized hastily, withdrawing the needlelike nail and folding his hands together to show that he wouldn't do it again. Not right away, at any rate. He could tell (sometimes) when he was pushing his luck. "Well, at least they're not poisonous, right?..."

At seeing the pout on Remus' face, he added, "Ahhhh, c'mon, I didn't do it to be mean. Don't be mad."

"You pick on me! It's like the poor giant in Jack and the Beanstalk!" Never mind it that the giant was horribly mean.

"Oh well, I'll have to get over it sooner or later, won't I? Best to forgive now and forget." He shrugged his one shoulder, mindful of Wick on the other. "Your nails are vicious though. Glad to know that they have some use."

"I guess." Meaning about the nails usage. He supposed they could be useful.

Wick wrinkled his nose, shaking his head vigorously, "I don't pick on you. I'm just joking with you - and that doesn't count. It doesn't," he protested, sounding mortally offended that Remus even thought that. "If I started really scratching at you, or messed with your stuff, or made you lose your way , that would be picking on you."

And he wouldn't do that. Remus seemed like a good guy. There was no reason to drive him up the wall.
Yet.

"If you did that, I'd place you in a doll house, inside of the aquarium, and tap on the glass a lot." He was a mean person when it came to him getting back at someone.

"But we're on good terms, and I'm just teasing you now, Wick." He mumbled, scratching his hair, "If you wanted to get back at me, making my apartment unbearably hot would be one. I'd be like a wilted plant." He shrugged, reading more in the book. "So, where do you live anyways?"

He made a face at the idea of the dollhouse in an aquarium, but didn't say a word on the subject (though he did pack away the idea of heating up Remus' apartment, should he ever need to get him for something). Wick was much the same as Remus when it came to revenge. He always paid back twice what he'd gotten, whether it was deserved or not.

"Nowhere in particular," Wick shrugged, blinking dully down at the book and finding it boring before even completing a sentence, "You know. Wherever's good for the night,- there's a million places. Where do you live?"

"Unlike you, I have a permanent place of residence. Well, unless my landlord wants to kick me out. I live in an apartment. Apartment 302 to be exact. Can't miss it to be honest. There's a billboard with my face plastered on it right next to the building." Stupid advertisements.

"Don't you have a friend you can hop into their house?"

"Noooo,... not really..." Wick replied, squirming at the question. It was kind of an uncomfortable matter with him - 'friends', that is. All his friends were friends with his other friends. He assumed he'd been kicked out of Violet's place permanently, and he didn't want to go to Taryn or Keye because he was sure they'd guilt-trip him about leaving in the first place.
But what did he want to go back for? He was just fine on his own, thanks.

"Why's there a billboard with your face on it? Are you famous or something?" Wick asked, trying to divert attention from the touchy issue of 'friends', "I don't think I ever met a famous person."

Remus raised an eyebrow at the squirming, oh well.

"Well, sort of. I model. I've been forced in a few acting parts by my agent, but I try to stick to what's easier and that's modeling. It pays well, but I'm using it to pay for my college fees. I'm going to school to be a mathematician."

"So you're sorta famous. Cool," Wick nodded, "And you're going to college?... Eh. As you like it, I guess. I know some people who go to college. I dunno what they're studying, though - what is it you said you were gonna do? Be a mathema-,.. matimet,..."

He frowned, frustrated.
"Whatever it was you said. What is it?"

Remus laughed, unable to contain it this time, "Well, you do things with numbers. Theorems, anything. I particularly like geometriya.

"In the jewish religion, they use words and assign them a number value. Then, you talk to someone, saying like 'And this was how this was done importantly and that adds up to 42'. Somewhere in there, they'll make a mistake, purposely for you to catch it so you're always constantly adding up. It's like a math game. It's fun."

Wick looked completely bewildered.

"I don't get it," he said blankly, shaking his head, and frowning as he tried to understand what Remus was talking about. He was all for fun and games and stuff, if he knew how to play. This, though - he didn't understand it at all. "How is it fun?... 'S just numbers."

Remus grabbed his chest dramatically, "What?! I love numbers! Numbers are my life! It IS fun!" Oh, now he was hurt. He swayed, falling against the book shelves dramatically, "You've wounded me little man."