Clouds rolled by, making their way to only the gods know where. Thunder boomed, and there was more than a slight pitter patter on the pavement, indicating that it was raining. Feet shuffled, common-people talked, some people whispered amongst themselves, a car or two (or three) would pass by occasionally, and the sound of umbrellas being opened could be heard, not too far off.

It was perhaps late in the evening... sevenish to eightish... and Lucifer was heading home early from work, on account of rain. He was one of the people that didn't think to bring an umbrella, since it'd been fairly sunny and warm throughout most of the afternoon.

His red sweatshirt clung to him, being past damp and near soaked now, and the rain was coming down fast and hard. It was now hard to believe that it had been sunny just about an hour ago.

His bright green eyes were downcast and bloodshot, and he glanced to the side every so often, as if something were snagging his attention out of the corner of his eye, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

His hair was soaked, too, and drips of water fell into his eyes, before he pushed the wet mess of brown strands away, only to have them come back again, even after sticking to his temples for a minute.

His jeans were, needless to say, soaked. Lucifer looked very, very sad for some reason, but he was actually kind of under control at the moment. He wouldn't attempt anything tonight.

He was heading home, and had traveled for miles in the rain, his shuffling footsteps seeming to never end. Now he was only a mile or two away... which wasn't terribly bad. He was wet, though, and it was cold, and he was shivering.

His pace quickened. He found the thought of coming home to a nice, warm apartment with Bomani ther quite pleasant. Even if Bomani wasn't there... it was still nice, warm, and dry. And he could change out of these wet clothes.

And still he continued, in the rain.

Such weather would make one wonder what Wick was doing outside at all, when he could have been in any number of dry, un-rainy spots, waiting it out. It wasn't difficult to find shelter when you were seven inches tall, but Wick had chosen not to take advantage of that option this time. He was in the mood for a bit of fun, and a lot a little rain wasn't going to stop him.

He'd been following after Lucifer for, oh,... five, ten minutes? trying to think of what he was going to do to him. He didn't have anything against him - the human had just caught his attention because it looked as if it would be easy to pull som nasty trick and get a good reaction. The human must be in a bad mood already, being so wet and all - surely it wouldn't take much to make him snap?

"What to do,..." the faery murmured to himself, darting and skipping over little rivulets of water washing over the concrete. That was what gave him his idea. He grinned. It was a mischievous grin that lit up his babyish face in a strange way.The rain had soaked his ginger hair and made it stick up in funny wet spikes that dripped in his hazel eyes as they tracked Lucifer's path. His horns were more visible than usual, since his hair was plastered down. The broken horn made him look a little lopsided. Adding to his lopsided look were his clothes - soaking like the rest of him, and looking like they'd been salvaged from the dumpster of a thrift shop.

A big, pretend crack in the pavement,... and one speeding car,... and whoosh! Wick thought, casting an illusion over the street for the next car. The illusionary crack in the pavement would cause them to swerve, running through the rain-filled gutter. The human Wick was following would get splashed.

While Lucifer looked wet enough already, ignorant drivers always seemed to make people angrier than they were.

"Hey!" Lucifer snapped irritably, snarling at the oncoming car that'd just thoroughly soaked him. It looked as if he were a wolf, trying to bare his teeth, and the effect was enhanced by the fact that Lucifer had pointier teeth than most people. His face scrunched up in anger, and he gave the car a common gesture among people these days. That's right, the middle finger.

"God damn." He swore, continuing down the sidewalk, now in a rather sour mood. He looked sulky and pouty, like one would expect a small child to be. But it was justified, since now he was not only wet... but he was completely soaked with crappy, dirty, nasty water from the gutter.

"I swear, I don't have enough middle fingers these days," he muttered under his breath, and turned, slightly, in the other direction. The car had drove off already, but...

there was a seemingly... small... thing down on the pavement. Had that been the thing that was constantly snagging his attention?

Wick giggled, not even bothering to stifle the sound because he was sure the sounds of the rain and of Lucifer's swearing would cover it. That had been very satisfying. So much so, in fact, that he wanted to do it again. Okay, maybe not exactly the same thing,... but something that would elicit another good reaction from the human.

He scampered along after Lucifer, intending to follow him until another good opportunity arose to tick him off.

He frowned a deep frown, which was something not common to rest on the teen's face. Sure, he was plenty depressed and whatnot, but he didn't frown much... he was rather emotionless, come to think of it. He passed it off as a rather annoying and big (small?) nothing, and half-turned to continue in the direction he'd previously been heading.

"Nnnng." He sighed, stuffing (or trying to stuff) his hands in his wet pockets.

And for my next trick,.. Wick thought, smirking nastily to himself as he cast the illusion of a plain sidewalk over an enormous puddle. It was an old trick - except last time he'd done it, it had been ice he'd been concealing with his spell - and that hadn't ended well, so he wouldn't be doing it again.
Giant puddles, though - giant puddles were okay.
He giggled in anticipation of watching Lucifer step (oh, would he trip and fall? That would be even better) into the deep water.

With a raised eyebrow, Lucifer stepped aside, barely missing the puddle. "Now, what the hell was that for?" He asked the thin air. Lucifer did not trip and fall into the puddle or even step into it like Wick wanted, but instead stared hardly into it. He may be slightly unintelligent, (okay, maybe more than slightly, but give him a break) but he's still a mage. Illusions aren't generally a problem.

Wick frowned, backing away a little.
Hell. Does he know I'm here...? he thought worriedly, biting his lip. The human hadn't looked directly at him or anything, but still... He got rid of the illusion cast over the sidewalk (whether Lucifer could see it or not) and looked around, trying to decide whether he should give up or not. He'd pulled this kind of thing enough times to know that if a person had realized that something was afoot, then it was likely they'd clued in to him.
Wick didn't often learn from mistakes, though.
He was sure that this time would be different.

He frowned up at the human. What to do, what to do...

"Huh?" Lucifer asked again, irritated. "Feel like showing yourself?" He turned again, all the way this time. He frowned at the frowning faery, and the little... thing was more visible. Like the crows, Lucifer could see through the Wick's illusion. He hadn't paid him much attention before, but...

He stepped (more like stomped) down threateningly close to where Wick was standing, staring down at his rather large combat boot.

Wick gave a shriek of surprise and fear, and scrambled frantically away from Lucifer's boot. In his haste, he tripped and fell backwards onto the wet concrete, scraping his hands. He was quickly back on his feet, retreating to the 'safe' distance of about two feet. Then he slowed his retreat to a careful snail's pace.

Well, damn. He can see me after all.

He kept on slowly backing away, arms wrapped protectively around himself. He kept his eyes on Lucifer, watching for the slightest movement that would indicate he was going to attack.

"You!" Lucifer snarled, quickening his pace, as Wick did. He sprinted after him, and skidded to a stop, again, right at the faery's feet. The faery was retreating, eh?

Lucifer's long fingers brushed Wick's form and snatched him, as one would expect a falcon to snatch a worm in its talons.

"Do you think that's funny?" For one thing, Lucifer sure as hell didn't find it funny.

And Wick might not find it so funny now to be in Lucifer's wet, dirty, frail, cut-up, bony hand. He was lucky he didn't crush him.

"Y-yes..." Wick replied apologetically. His eyes widened when he realized the stupid thing he'd just said (You idiot! You should've lied and said 'no'!). He began frantically squirming, trying to free himself from the human's grasp, but it was useless. His arms were pinned to his sides so he couldn't even use his nails.

"I didn't mean any harm, it was just for fun.I was gonna stop after the next one-"
He stopped himself. He should just shut up. Now.

Lucifer glared sharply at him, and his bright green eyes, which were generally very sad and lonely, seemed to cut beneath the skin, like the fangs of a vampire, or two sharp razors. He squeezed Wick, gently, for emphasis. He wasn't into killing things without a purpose, after all.

"You were going to?" He asked, hardly letting Wick have any mercy. "You do realize I could've fallen, don't you?" Another angry squeeze. "Don't you? I could've been hurt. And then what would you do, huh?"

Poor Wick. At this point, I must compare to him to those squishy balls that are supposed to relieve stress. This is what Lucifer was using him as.

"Well, you didn't fall, did you? So nothing bad happened. So it's all okay now," Wick argued, wincing in pain at being squeezed. "Besides, I - ouch - I wasn't out to harm anyone, doesn't that count for something?"

He looked pleadingly at Lucifer, trying to convey just how very sorry he was,...

that he'd been caught.

Lucifer stopped squeezing and his glare eased up a little. "Are you going to do anything like that again? I don't care if you weren't out to, you could've. I could've very well tripped and fell. I could've been hurt. I don't care if you didn't want it to happen. It could've, and it would've." Funny, he almost sounds like a lecturing parent.

"And if I let you go, you're just going to do it to someone else, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Oops.

"I mean no! No, I won't."
He spoke frantically, eyes wide. He was trying to make himself look believable, but he wasn't very good at it. Wick could be a really bad liar sometimes. Like now. "I won't." he said again, as if saying it enough could make it true.

He frowned. That was his 'You just blew your chance to lie, and I'm not going to believe you now' face. Yes, a face could mean that many words.

"I don't believe you. I'm going to make sure this doesn't happen again." And that meant, whether Wick liked it or not, he was coming home with Lucifer. But hey, it wouldn't be so bad. It was dry and warm, and Bomani had plenty of food.

"What're you gonna do?" Wick asked, in a tiny voice. He wasn't all that good at reading faces,... even if he was, it's doubtful he'd have known that Lucifer meant to take him home. "Are ,.. are you gonna kill me?"

He bit his lip to stop it from shaking.
"Please don't kill me..." he whimpered.

He let out a very soft chuckle. "Gods, I would've killed you if I'd have fallen into that puddle. But no," he said with a pause, "you'll just have to deal with the torture of coming home with me."

"Bo might kill you, but I won't."

"Oh," Wick said, in a tiny, not-very-relieved kind of voice. "...Whos' Bo...?"

Hey, a death threat's a death threat.

"Is he your cat? ...Do you have a cat?" he asked nervously. Wick hated cats. They were horrible, horrible monsters.



((*laughs* I have this mental image of Bo poking Wick, and for some reason it's really funny.))

Lucifer started to walk in the directon he was originally headed in now, and shook his head. "No, Bo's not a cat. He's my roommate. And no, I don't have a cat. Anyways," with care, he pocketed him into the pouch of his wet sweatshirt, "I think.. he might put you in a jar."

"Oh, no. No way," Wick protested loudly, beginning to tear at the fabric of Lucifer's sweatshirt, intending to free himself, "No way is that happening. If you even try that - I'll get you. Good."

Wick so hated that idea that he went even further. "I'm serious. You try it and I'll - I'll make you have nightmares. Your worst ones. So don't even think about it."
He reserved that for mortal-peril situations, but it made a good threat.

Lucifer sighed very gently, and pressed a hand to the pouch to keep Wick from getting out. "I was only kidding. Good god, you little monster, I don't even know what he'd do." He shrugged easily, continuing on shuffling down the sidewalk.

"And I wouldn't let him do anything to you, anyway. 'Cause, most likely, if you get hurt, it's my ass on the line. Right?"

Wick stopped tearing at Lucifer's shirt, and began sullenly picking at the grit in the scrapes on his palms. "Too right, it's your ass on the line. I'd get you. Actually, I'd get you both. Can't kill you or nothin', but I'd get you back."

He gave a big sigh, his sulky grumbling replaced by a sort of plaintive tone.
"So why don't you just save us all a lot of trouble and let me go?"

"Becaaaause," Lucifer started, resisting the urge to sing-song that part, "I wouldn't be 'saving us all a lot of trouble' by doing that. Because you admittedly said you were going to do it to someone else. And can't have that happening, now can we."

He paused, taking a serious tone. "I mean, what if you killed someone doing that? I don't care if you wouldn't mean to... I mean, just... what if. And there'd be people out there who'd miss them? Can't have that happening, either."

"So, you, little monster, are staying with me and Bo for a while."

"Which brings up the point of a name. What should I call you? Short stuff? Midget? Action figure? Or do you already have a name?"

"I wouldn't kill anyone," Wick said, frowning, "I'm not stupid, you know,... you don't die by tripping in a puddle..."

Slipping on ice? Yes. He'd learned his lesson from that one. Stepping in a deep puddle, no.

"You realize I'm gonna destroy your house," he added after a moment, in a warning tone, "The second I get the chance, I'm gonna destroy the place. And I can make a really big mess. So save yourself some trouble, and let me go now...
And, don't call me action figure or midget or short stuff. My name's Wick."

"Yuo would still hurt them." He shrugged, nonchalantly, and put a hand in his pouch pocket, beside where Wick was. The other hand was still pressed lightly on Wick so he wouldn't escape.

"If you mess up Bo's apartment, you seriously will be dead. He won't hesitate to shoot you. Seriously." He paused, thinking. "He shot a nurse in the foot, and he also shot me in the arm. I don't doubt he'd shoot an annoying... how tall are you? seven inches? tall faery to death."

Another shrug. "Anyway, you're going to have a very nice time at the apartment, Wick." An evil smirk.

Hey, who said Lucifer couldn't have some cruel fun once in a while?

He bet Bomani would dress him up in doll's clothes and stick him in a doll house. And if they didn't have those at the apartment, they'd just go out and buy some.

"He sounds crazy, but he can't shoot me if he can't see me," the faery retorted. He swiped at Lucifer's hand with his clawlike little nails, intending to actually scratch him, and not just nick the skin. "I don't know how you saw me, but unless he's like you, he won't be able to. And you can't shoot at what you can't see. So there."

What a jerk.
Also, what was it with people, when they caught him, always wanting to take him home?

"Ow! Pain in the ass!" Lucifer snarled, and quickly recoiled his hand from out of the wet pocket. He continued down the street, getting pelted with rain.

"Oh, but I can very well shoot you, and I know how guns work." The smirk that was there before returned and widened considerably. "So don't shoot off your mouth, little one."

Also, I think it's something about wanting to torture him for his sins, or something like that. Lucifer certainly wanted to torture him.

He shifted around, frowning and beginning to quietly pick a hole in the front of the pocket. He didn't really expect to escape, but he had to try. He disliked being stuck in a sopping wet pocket. It smelled like, well, wet fabric. Of whatever the sweatshirt was made of. Anyway, he didn't like it.

"Can you aim? 'Cause if you can't aim, you're screwed," Wick taunted. "You'd have to be really good to be able to hit something my size, - and a moving target as well. Good luck. You'd need it."

It was hard to hit a moving target,... but a tiny moving target?
... Well, there was such a thing as a lucky shot, Wick reflected grimly.

I am quite curious to know what wet fabric smells like. Well, wett cotton, anyway, since that's what the sweatshirt was made out of.

"Of course I can aim." He rolled his eyes, ignoring the fact that he was picking at the pocket.

"But I wouldn't want to kill you, anyway. I'm sure someone would miss you." Though he mildly doubted that fact.

"Hey, look at that, we're here."

He'd be right to doubt, in Wick's opinion. He didn't say so, though, figuring it would probably dramatically lower his chances of survival.

"You're bluffing. Oh, we're here? Oooh, lovely," Wick said, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, "I am so looking forward to this. Really."

Crazy. They're both crazy and I am probably gonna die, Wick thought, with only a little sarcasm, Guess I'd better make the best of it.

Yes, they were both crazy. And, as Lucifer would say, damn proud of it, too.

"Think what you will, faery boy. Midget.. Er, Wick." Yeah, he'd have to remember that his name was Wick. It wasn't worth remembering, in his opinion, however.

"Yeah. You'll like it her, I promise."

And up the stairs he went, not realizing he was probably rattling Wick around in his pocket when he did so.

Wick just sank his claws into the fabric surrounding him, and held on tight. It probably wasn't worth taking chances,... this guy seemed creepy. Well, it wasn't as if he couldn't nightmare him if he had to. Or,... could he? He'd been able to see through Wick's illusion - was it possible he'd be able to resist the nightmares as well?

Oooh, hell.

"I won't," Wick said sullenly, his voice jumping a bit, "I won't like it, you jerk."

"Aw, c'mon, little guy, it won't be that bad." Lucifer bit his lip in thought for a moment, opened the door to the apartment complex, then let it relax. He walked across the flat surface of the carpet now.

"You like food, right?" He asked, giving the guy at the desk a vary wary look... and then it was up some more stairs.

Wick didn't answer - mostly out of sullenness, but partly because he wasn't in the mood to argue anymore. He picked morosely at the hole he was making in Lucifer's sweatshirt. He'd so far made a ragged gap that he could safely fit his hand through, but not much else. Well, if he couldn't escape, he could at least ruin the human's shirt. It made a quiet tearing sound as he ripped it a little more.
It looked like mice had been chewing at it.

"Hey! Stop that or I will stick you in a jar." He growled, and then continued on his way up the stairs. And up the stairs.

And up the stairs.

Until they reached the apartment door, and he opened it.

"Okay, okay..." Wick said, hastily removing his nails from the rip he'd made. He crossed his arms over his chest, and sat back, getting as comfortable as he could for the looong walk up the stairs. He could see a little out of the gap, but not much,... though, it was enough for him to know the way out of the building if he got the chance.

He watched the door open, and felt a sudden pang of fear.... he didn't know why.
"Promise you're not gonna kill me?" he asked meekly.

"Hey Bo! You here?" He asked, and got no response. Lucifer frowned slightly, and shut the door behind him with a rather nonchalant shrug. He fished inside his pouch pocket for Wick. "Looks like Bomani's not here. So, no chance of you dying."

He grabbed Wick, and set him down on the carpet, which probably wasn't the best idea in the world.

The faery stood up, quickly scanning the surroundings for any means of escape, but found none. So he did the next best thing - which was bolt for the nearest hiding place, which happened to be under the couch. He ran in zigzags so he would be difficult to catch. He could be pretty quick when he wanted.
Wick skidded to a safe spot under the couch, and peered out. He resisted the urge to taunt Lucifer with a can't-catch-me song.