Well. This was rather dissapointing.

Barely covered clicking of heels, swish of hair and clothing, and tapping of fingers touching things. Otherwise, he was very much near inaudible.

Alice had come here to find one person. He wanted sex and he had met someone at a club that worked here, so he came here to see if they were. Sadly, he missed them by one lousy minute. So naturally, he decided to have a peek around this place.

It wasn't bad by any standards, but it simply wasn't as nice as what he was used to; high-class European theaters.

He didn't quite fit in, here behind the stage. Dressed in Armani and a few other high-end designer labels. Tight denim jeans, with girl-cut legs and a faded look to them, they were held up by a simple black leather belt. His favorite shirt; a silk white dress shirt, quarter-sleeve with silver pin stripes. His hair was tied at the back of his head, long silver-blonde hair swinging slightly with each step of his saunter.

Eyes are lined in coal black, adding an even more intense look to his fearsome icey blue eyes, and his mouth is coated lightly with clear gloss, lips set in a smirk.

He was bored and horny, what was there to do back here?

Dave is busy.

That is, he's very, very busy, very frustrated, and...

"Get out of my way, dammit."

He is moving a rather large piece of equipment that they just had to use onstage in this crazy production. He hides it between shows, because he is protective about his babies, and they must not be touched by unclean hands.

Er, you know what I mean.

Yes, he was addressing that remark to Alice, who he vaguely recognizes. He was a bit busy with other things at the time, you see.

"And if I don't?"

What the hell is that?

Alice is looking vaguely amused and only slightly irratated at the young man who snapped at him. The person looks familiar, give him a second, he'll catch on.

A feral look to his smirk.

Oh yes, the fairy's owner or something right? What was his name? Nothing came to him. What was the fairy's name? Was it a fairy or a pixie? Must have been a pixie, it - he - had been small and skinny.

Didn't he...oh yea, he kissed the boy. And then his girlfriend came after him or something.

He can't remember.

It's not like it's important anyways.

Dave grimaces. Great, a smartass.

"If you don't move the hell out of my way, I will run you over with this very heavy piece of lighting equipment. Move!"

Dave is... bossy, when in the theatre. It's his place, you see. His, his, his.

If Asher ever returns, Dave is going to pretend that the vampire doesn't exist. No confrontation, no conversation, no nothing.

He shall ignore him.

"And you think..." Step, step, step, around it, over to Dave. "That you even have the strength to do that?"

Cocky smirk, raised eyebrow, aura of self-confidence.

There is nothing weak about Alice. One might taunt his appearance, but he's gorgeous, so he'd dissmiss it as jealousy.

He leans against the peice of equipment. Lighting, huh?

"I don't believe that you do."

Dave informs the curtains that he doesn't have time for 'fucking morons who don't belong the hell back here anyway who think they're all the fuck that' and pulls the equipment backwards, preparatory to going around Alice.

"Get the hell out of my theatre, okay?"

He doesn't like Alice, can you tell?

Of course Alice can notice.

Rolling his eyes he leans forward, getting right up in Dave's face.

This is turning out to be a little more entertaining that he thought it would be.

"Since when has it been your theatre, kid?"

Alice smirked.

Hey Dave, remember him?

Ah, shit.

"Look, pretty boy, I've put more effort and time and sweat and blood into this theatre than anyone who volunteers or works here or attends, so you can fucking bet this is my theatre."

Grr. Look, it's a territorial male.

Also one who is being challenged on his masculinity, or remembering a challenge.

Tremble.

"Now fuck off."

Aww, he called him pretty boy.

How cute.

Alice only sneered.

"Fuck off to what, boy?"

He cocked his head, fingers running over the piece of electronic crap, poking and prodding at it.

Human males and their gizmos.

This is the sound Dave makes when he is irritated and protective of his 'gizmos': Rrrrrrrgh.

He is making it now.

"Do. Not. Touch."

These things are easily breakable, you know, for all their weight.

I am male, hear me roar.

I am male also, hear me roar louder.

And I'll also throw you down and sodomize you to prove my superiority, if I want to.

Alice smirked, drawing his finger down it.

"Aww, little boy attached to his metal junk?"

That isn't nice, calling the equipment junk.

But Alice likes to taunt and tease and make fun of.

Rrrrrrgh.

It's sort of a growling noise in the back of his throat.

"It is not junk, it's very expensive, and get. Your hands. Off."

Dave is supremely put out. Watch him be supremely put out.

It is terribly amusing, is it not?

Amusing it is.

Alice is very amused, a long and lazy smirk stretching across his face.

"Boys and their toys. So you have your own robot girlfriend or something?"

Tch, Alice, shame on you. Those were so 80s.

We won't go into toys either, okay? Okay.

More touching of the lighting thing, just to bug Dave.

"None of your business."

Muttered. "Fucker."

Dave has a mouth, yes he does.

Well, why doesn't he put it to better use than?

Or at least yell some more interesting things.

Alice is sure he could make the other do that.

It would be more satisfying.

"Oh really? What's she like?"

A nasty smirk.

"Cute? Nice breats? Cute ass? Fuck /her/ yet?"

Oh, now Alice is getting low.

"Or is she not good enough?"

There is a very long pause.

This is because Dave is breathing steadily, reminding himself that no, it would not do any good to ram this guy in the balls with the light.

While satisfying, it would probably cause the bulb to short. (Yes, they're that fragile.)

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now."

Dave is... protective of his girlfriend.

Plus, Alice would take revenge out on Dave.

In numerous ways.

"/No/. I think I enjoy your company."

He leaned fully against the machine, but balancing himself so he doesn't crush or tip it or something.

"Tell me about her. Is she making you wait till she's married? To you, of course...possibly. Females can be very annoying."

Which is why he seems to have a preference for males.

Dave closes his eyes and counts to ten.

This does not do any good. Makes him wonder why people tout it as such a surefire way to keep one's temper.

"Look. Whoever the hell you are. Me and my girlfriend are absolutely none of your fucking business, and I don't have to tell you anything, and I do not enjoy your company, so go away, dammit."

Rar.

Meow.

"Surely, you do remember me, am I right?"

He tossed back some stray hairs.

"We couldn't have gotten off on the wrong foot that much..." A sigh and a roll of the eyes. "It was just a little kiss anyways."

A sniff, yes, he did remind Dave of that.

"So how has that pixie been doing anyways?"

Not that he cares really.

Argh. Jerkhead had to bring up something that Dave would really, really prefer not to think about.

He. Does not. Kiss. Boys!

... though apparently he's attracted no few of them. Sigh.

"He's none of your business either."

Irritating twerp or not, Wick is Dave's. Kind of. And this pansy-boy with the pretty face has no right to go tormenting Dave's faery.

That's Dave's job.

Pansy boy?

Nonono darling. If Alice were to have his way with you. You wouldn't dare call him pansy boy. He knows how to hurt you more ways than you know how to use all your gizmos.

"Ah, okay, then what shall we do? If you don't want to talk maybe we can do..." He ran a finger up the other's chest. "...other things..."

Whore.

I don't think Dave is interested in those other things, given the way he jerks away from Alice's finger as if the angel's hand were scalding hot.

"Hell no!"

... why, oh why, is he so attractive to his own sex?

Someday, he's going to ask someone that.

The answer is simple.

Because he looks very much similar to a young Alexander.

And we all know Alexander is hot. And older. And mature. Thus he is irresistable.

Dave is almost there, still has a few years to go.

"Mm, but you don't want to talk...what shall we do? Shall I torture you like I did the pixie then?"

"How about you fuck off and find somebody interested?"

Dave really doesn't want to know how hot everybody thinks his cousin is. Really he doesn't.

"I'll even give you directions. The door is that way."

He points.

Alice bites.

The finger, I mean, of Dave that it pointing.

Catches it in his whole mouth, as far as he can go, and sucks on it.

Just for a moment.

Can you tell he's having too much fun?

He lets go of the finger, of course, having bitten hard enough to cut skin, he has a bit of blood on his mouth like lipstick.

Too make it gross, he draws out his tongue and licks the whole way 'round, getting up the blood.

Grin.

"I like 'em unwilling."

Twisted bastard.

"Ow! Fuck!"

Dave is unwilling, that's for certain.

He backs away a bit.

Not again...

"Look, just fuck off, okay? Find some other sod to tease."

Dave has had enough.

"Hey now, is that an invitation?"

Alice is now proving that he cares nothing for the personal space of other's, up close practically against the other.

He's grinning.

And now Dave is in Alice's arms.

And his tongue is in the other's mouth, shoving down.

Poor Dave, remember this?

"Hmmgffmmph!"

Translated... well, you don't really want to hear the translation, I'm sure. Anyway, it's only more of what Dave's been saying the whole time.

And he struggles and tries to pull away... and then it occurs to him.

He bites down on the tongue in his mouth. Hard.

Owfuck!

Alice's eyes flashes and he literally gave a snarl, pure animal.

He's forced Dave down on the ground.

Straddling him, pulled away from the other's.

His hands are on the other's clothes, ripping and pulling and such.

Poor Dave.

Dave probably doesn't know it, but Wick follows him.
Only sometimes, and very stealthily.
When he does, it's mostly when Dave's going to the theatre. Wick likes the theatre.

The little faery's been lingering about during this whole encounter, not daring to do anything. He remembers perfectly well how dangerous Alice is. But now? He really can't avoid taking action.

There are no warning giggles, no visible cues, no warning until there's a the pchht sound of a match being lit.. and touched to the angel's hair. Hair burns fast,... it's rather smelly when it does. And it frizzes and singes and generally looks awful.

Dave is swearing and fighting, but Alice is stronger, and Dave remembers this position all too well, and...

"Get off me, get off... shit!"

Fire!

... god, that smells bad.

Waitaminute.

Of course Alice smells it, right when his hair is caught.

Holy shit!

Naturally he hits Dave across the face [like Norm and Sam, forget seeing stars Dave, you are seeing the whole damn universe] and snarls, jumping up and grabbing onto his hair, pulling down.

Now that did two things; smothered the fire and burnt his hands. Plus it pulled off any remains of burnt hair.

You know his eyes? How cat-like they are? Well now the pupils are near invisible slits and his canines are bared. He's snarling too, canines looking even more dangerous now then ever.

Yea, Alice can be much worse.

When it is him in danger.

There are no giggles (though Wick desperately wants to laugh). Out of nowhere, a clear, chemical-smelling liquid starts dripping onto Alice's head - I suppose it could constitute a warning.

Seeing as, y'know, it's lighter fluid.

Where Wick obtained the stuff, one can't be sure,... probably from wherever he took the matches.

... okay, that hurt.

Wait. No hands on him...

Dave takes this opportunity to roll away and stand up, backing away almost quickly enough to be called running, though not quite.

I think he's hyperventilating.

Forget the equipment, he'll put it away tomorrow. Forget scolding Wick for the lighter fluid and the fire in the theatre, he'd much rather that than a repeat of the experience with Justin.

He just wants out of here.

Alice stumbles backwards.

Oh yes, he knows the smell of that stuff.

He's snarling.

Looks at his was-going-to-be-victim on the ground, stumbling to get away, then looks around the air at whatever was pouring lighting fluid on him.

Perhaps the fairy?

Too big of a risk right now, and if he doesn't wash this shit out of his hair, his hair'll be ruined.

One last snarl and he whips around, not running - he never runs - but stalking off.

He's angry.

Several crashes are heard, then the door slams shut.

At least he is gone.

Dave stands there panting for a moment, not quite able to believe that his tormentor is gone, not quite certain exactly what just happened...

"... Wick?"

Is that what it is? Is that who set the guy's hair on fire?

... he probably owes the faery gratitude, if it was.

Wick waits until he hears the door slam, then starts to giggle,... then starts to cackle, which would sound pretty darn ominous if one wasn't aware of where the sound was coming from.

And then he sheds his glamours and drifts down to perch on the dropped piece of lighting equipment, regarding Dave with a wary eye.

"He so had that coming," Wick states bluntly, trying to cut Dave off before he can be mad about the use of possibly dangerous combustible substances in the theatre.

Pause.

"... yeah." Pause again. "God, thank you."

Dave isn't crying. But he is trembling, and his legs abruptly refuse to support him any longer, and oh, god, he thought...

"God."

"...You're welcome."

The faery's head tilts to one side, causing his mop of hair to fall into his eyes.

"Did I miss something?" he inquires, taking to the air and hovering around his human, a sort of half puzzled/half concerned frown on his face. It's an unusual expression for him, to say the least. "Can I getcha a bandaid or anything?"

...

Dave shakes his head. The only real injury, other than the ones to his pride and sanity, is the blow across the face, and that's not bleeding, just bruised. Ow.

"Nah, 's just... god. I hate being helpless like that. Really hate it."

He would use language here, but I believe the shock has knocked it all out of his system.