He'd better not throw anything at me this time.., Wick thought, sneaking his invisible self up onto the switchboard in the soundbooth. This time, he didn't hit any of the switches (though he'd have liked to, because that was fun). This time, he wasn't here to pester,... though. again, he'd have liked to. He was here for one reason: Violet. Well, technicallt two reasons: Keye and Violet. Keye had been able to persaude Wick to talk to Violet, who, in turn had persuaded him to talk to Dave. She'd asked him to apologize to the Stupid human, AKA Dave - when he refused, she'd told him that he didn't have to apologize, but would he at least talk to Dave?

I couldn't say no, he sighed inwardly, waiting for Dave to return from wherever he was at the moment. It was early, still, but he was sure the Stupid human would be here soon. He drummed his fingers on the table beneath him, the sharp little nails making a faint clicking sound.

And here's Dave, right on cue.

He looks rather tired--still hasn't been sleeping well, you see, and he's also been trying to figure out what that guy the other night did to him, aside from the obvious puncture wounds in his neck.

He leaves his helmet on the table by the door, amid a bunch of other odds and ends that probably have something to do with electricity and programming, and sits down in the chair, staring broodingly at the switchboard. The effect is rather like a glare, only with less punch.

His head hurts.

Wick bit his lip, and stopped tapping his fingers. Well, here he is,... now what? he thought irritably, frowning at the human. He doesn't look like he's in a very good mood,... maybe I should come back another time when he's not so likely to try and squish me. Ahh, ... but I can't. I might as well do it now - he's always grumpy anyway, and it won't make a difference whether it's now or later, so I might as well just get it over with.

So, repressing a sigh, he erased the invisibility glamour concealing him, revealing himself to Dave. So, suddenly there's a seven-inch tall tangle-haired pointed-eared little fae sitting right in front of the human.

"Hey. You."

Blank look.

"... not again."

He didn't mean to say that aloud, probably. You're not supposed to hand ammunition to your enemies--are they enemies? Or are they just very much not friends?

He sighed.

"Didn't you get enough last time?"

"Didn't you?" he inquired, with a very nasty smirk. It pleased him to see that Dave's reaction was 'not again' rather than 'bring it on',... though the second reaction would have been fun as well because he'd have another excuse to...

But, sadly (for Wick), that wasn't what he was here for.

Absently, he rubbed his neck and shoulder, scowling. The healing wounds there itched abominably, and he kept having to remind himself not to scratch.

What was he supposed to say to that? Because he didn't want to start the whole thing over, but he also had that annoying thing known as male pride. (Pigheadedness, according to those who are less kind.)

"What are you doing here?"

Wick wrinkled his nose.
"I'm here 'cause Violet said I had to come talk to you," he grumbled, beginning again to tap his nails on the surface beneath him so that they clicked,.. in what might possibly be an annoying way. "So I'm only here 'cause she asked me to. She wanted me to say sorry too, but I won't."

He paused a moment, then added skeptically, "'Course, not unless you do first."

Yes, it was annoying. Kind of a lot, but Dave did his best to ignore it.

"Uh huh. So... what? Vi wants us to have a truce or something?"

He could live with that. As long as Wick stays far away from his theatre and his apartment, he doesn't see any reason why he might mind ignoring the little bastard whenever they met somewhere else.

And, slightly childishly, "You started this crap. You can apologize first."

"I dunno,... I think what she said was, she doesn't want to have to end up picking one of us over the other," Wick explained, then added, with a smug little smirk, "She'd pick me instead of you, I bet."

The tapping grew louder.
"Do you have rocks in your head or something?" he said scornfully, "Don't you even remember? You were the one who started it, you dork."

"Started which? 'Cause you were the one who showed up and started playing tricks on me, remember?" They could probably go on like this forever.

Which of them is right, anyway?

Ohhh, that's it. Dave couldn't say he liked being put on the same level as the annoying little faery, but, well... He could understand--mostly intellectually--that Vi wouldn't want to be caught in the middle.

"It was all in fun!" he protested, sounding indignant. His nails started slowly scratching rather than tapping,... it wasn't any serious damage. It just didn't look very nice. "Grow a sense of humor, why don't you? It was just jokes. I didn't cause any real harm. You stuck me in a bottle! And you hit me with that paint thing, - how's that for overreacting?"

This could go on for a very long time, unless one of them demonstrates enough maturity to cut it off before they end up with Dave crumpled on the floor.

"And cursing me with nightmares isn't overreacting?" Please note that he's speaking of the nightmares in the present tense. They still come, and they're not supposed to do that, are they.

"No. It's not."
Yes it is.
"You had it coming," he continued, frowning. He hadn't the slightest clue that Dave was still having nightmares from the ones he caused. If he knew, he would probably do what he could to get rid of them, if Dave asked him to. Or he mght just do it anyway, because he thought Violet would expect him to. "...How would you like being stuffed in a bottle, huh?... "
Under his breath, in a huffy tone, he added, "...you jackass.."

"I'd rather be stuffed in a bottle than have nightmares for a week or a month or however long this is going to last." At least the bottle was just a somewhat smaller place of residence than anyone would like.

Okay, maybe it's not that simple. But he'd still rather be enclosed in a small space than have these nasty dreams every night.

Also? He somehow managed to ignore the insult. Maybe it was because he didn't think that Wick was of any station to give him an insult, and so it didn't matter. Maybe he was just expecting it, so that it didn't take him by surprise and make him lose his temper.

"Fine! You just try it sometime, then. Get dropped in a glass jar and left there 'til you're nearly crazy from being bored, 'n it's always too cold, and you're just sitting on the floor all day with nowhere to move and nothing to do. You try it," Wick snapped. After releasing that little rant (which he'd plainly been wanting to do for a while), he raised an eyebrow at Dave. "What are you talking about, you crazy stupid human?... Last? It's not supposed to last at all. Just the one time, then it's over. Not like being trapped in a bottle for goodness knows how long..."

"I'm talking about the nightmares I have every fucking night since you did that... whatever it was. Every fucking night." Oh. And this is his first indication that it's not acting quite as it should. Great. Not only did he get stuck with a nightmare-inducing faery for an enemy--which, granted, could be a lot worse--but he's apparently more vulnerable to the stinking faery's tricks than normal people.

"Well, you're not supposed to," he said, now scowling at Dave like it was his fault, "Like I said. It's only supposed to work once. And that's it. Are you sure it's 'cause of what I did? At most it's supposed to last,... five minutes? I can't make it go any longer than that, it's too hard and then I wouldn't've had any energy left to get away with."

"All I know is it's the same thing, over and over and over again, and it's the same thing that I remember from when you did whatever you did in the first place!"

Hey, Wick? That might be why he's so grumpy today. Or just your presence, since, after all, you are highly annoying to him, and he has yet to find a reason to like--or at least not hate--you.

It was weird, but Wick could see it being likely that the recurring nightmares were due to the original spell. He didn't apologize for it, though. Instead, he just frowned at Dave and said,
"If you keep yelling at me, I won't fix it."

Dave was silent for a second.

"Fix it? Please?"

And that tells you just how much he hates having these dreams, and how much he wishes he could have a good night's sleep again, etc... Then he'd only have to worry about that crazy guy.

"Okay, I'll try," Wick said, biting his lip, "But I've never had this go wrong before, ... I'm pretty sure I know how to stop it, though. It won't take long if I get it right first try,... you might have to wait another coupla days if I don't, though..."

That wasn't a threat, by the way - just a fact. To put this simply, Wick thought the problem might have been that he wasn't able to close that door that led to his nightmares - it was still ajar. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It took a lot of power to break in, but it took the same amount to close it again - people are so scared of so many things that it's difficult to stop them once they've begun to be afraid.

"...Okay?" he said, to finalize the decision.

"If you can fix it, I don't care how long it takes. I'm going to really go nuts if it keeps up." Meaning that he'll be a candidate for a mental hospital, because, well, he might not have been hallucinating Rose or that red thing or Wick, but these nightmares are enough to drive him batty. Also he needs some way to actually sleep.

"Do... whatever, I guess."

He's almost kind of maybe trusting Wick, here. Marvel.

"Alright," Wick sighed irritably. He didn't really want to do this - he ws going to be so worn afterwards. He just told himself that he was doing it because Violet would make him do it anyway. And because, even if he really really really doesn't like Dave, it's mean to leave someone with horrible nightmares like that when they maybe, just maybe, might not deserve to have them.

He looked into the human's eyes with a look that seemed particularly piercing. He didn't need to hold his gaze for very long, but he did because it was somewhere to look. A faint smirk flickered over his face - he'd been right, it had just refused to be sealed off properly. He concentrated on it, and forced the nightmares back in. Then he closed his eyes and gave a soft sigh, looking quite a bit paler than he ought to.
"Fixed it," he singsonged quietly,swaying a bit.

"Whoa, hey..." A hand reached out and steadied the little fae, and Dave is smiling. This is probably one of the first times that Wick's actually seen him smile, isn't it.

"Thanks."

Dave is a nice guy, you know.

Well, Wick would be seeing Dave smile if he had his eyes open. He could hear it in the human's voice, though, which was almost the same thing, and couldn't stop himself from leaning into Dave's hand. He was tired.

"You're... welcome,... stupid..." he mumbled.

Huh. Now that Wick isn't trying his very best to drive Dave up the wall--and just maybe get him fired--he's kinda cute. (Though Dave doesn't often admit that he's vulnerable to the effects of 'Teh Cute'...)

He left his hand there and rubbed his shoulder with the other hand. Itchy itchy.

"So... make a deal. 'f I promise not to hit you with a broom, throw my shoes at you, stick you in a jar or a box or whatever, you leave my theatre alone?"

He feels generous. No more nightmares means he's happy.

Wick opened one eye - it felt like it took a lot of effort, but he did it anyway - and looked at Dave, thinking it over.
"Okay," he said grudgingly, after a moment, "It's a,... it's a deal. If you hold up your end of it... so will ... I."

He shut his eyes, frowning slightly. He didn't want to pass out, right here in the soundbooth,... he didn't trust Dave, agreement or not, and he didn't want to wake up in a jar. So, after a moment, he asked, "You know of somewhere I can,..." Yawn, "-sleep, without getting... stepped on...?"
Wick didn't feel like searching for one, but if he knew where some safe corner could be found, he was sure he could probably stumble there on his own. It was going to take a few hours to sleep this off.

"I dunno."

Well, actually, he probably did. Any number of places where the exhausted faery could curl up without being stepped on or discovered for a good long while. The prop room, for one, or maybe somewhere up in the catwalk. But agreement or not, he didn't trust Wick, and he wouldn't tell him about all the convenient hiding places right in the theatre.

"Guess you'd better go looking or something."

"Yeah," he sighed dismally. "...Guess I'd better."

He got up and did a fairly graceful tumble onto the floor. Once he got to his feet again, he trudged dizzily towards the door. He paused to yawn, then called back to Dave, a lazy sort of, "Seeya."
He could be heard taking one step of the stairs at a time, with soft little thudding sounds accompanying his landings. He took about six of them, and then the sound stopped, as he fell to a spot close to the banister and drifted off to sleep. Not the best place in the world, considering he was still completely visible. At this point, though, he really couldn't help himself.

"Aw, hell."

Six steps down there was nowhere to hide a tiny little faery, Dave knew. There was no way that the little guy could be safe there, and Violet would probably be very annoyed with him if he let the kid get himself squished.

So Dave trotted down the stairs and found the faery... Hell. Where was he going to put him?

Ah.

He scooped Wick up and headed out to his motorcycle--yes, his motorcycle--and put the helmet on the seat, and Wick under the helmet. Shade, protection, and no one was going to step on him. And Wick had just better appreciate it, too.

Wick muttered incoherently as he was picked up, something that sounded like, "Not so stupid..," but he was asleep and so he probably didn't know what he was saying. Probably.

Wick would appreciate the gesture later. As in, several hours later, when he woke up and realized where he was and how he'd gotten there. He might be so touched by it that he might even leave the motorcycle alone. It hadn't been included in the deal, but... well... no.
He'd leave it alone.
This time.