Taryn has come to the conclusion that the schedule of the cafeteria was designed to be the greatest possible irritant to the greatest number of students. In other words, she's missed dinner.

Again. She's terrible about remembering to head up there in time to get something to eat, and she's far too lazy to go hunting somewhere else for food. The cafeteria is, relatively speaking, cheaper.

And closer.

And she's still hungry, but too lazy to go walking in search of somewhere to east since she doesn't have anything in the dorm room.

Sigh.

There's a quiet tapping at the window. Ever since the acquisition of the new pair of wings, Wick's preferred not to enter dwellings by the door. Windows are faster than having to flit up hallways and stairs.

He patiently folds himself against the sill, out of the wind (heights are breezy) and waits for the window to be opened.

Oh, lovely. Company.

Taryn, naturally, opens the window.

"Hi, Wick. What's up?"

Haven't seen the faery in a while. Pity, that.

Wick flutters inside, and settles himself on the inner sill. He looks a bit windblown, a bit dazed, but otherwise fine. He gives Taryn a silly grin, kicking his heels against the wall.

"Stuff," he says shortly. "Guess what happened? I mean, really. I want you to guess."

"You blew up Professor Barclay's car?"

She wouldn't put it past him.

"I dunno, what?"

He giggles at the thought.
"Nooo,... but that's a good idea anyway."

Wick puts 'blowing up Barclay's car' on his mental to-do list, underlining it several times before bringing himself back to the subject at hand.

"I'm free again," he beams, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

"No, it isn't. You'll get killed."

She shakes her head and goes back to sit on her bed. Comfy.

"How did that happen?"

"Welllll,... see..." He tones the smile down quite a bit. "Dave got shot. By the Lady. And he bled a lot and stuff,.. anyway. I helped him out, and now I'm not stuck with him anymore. He wasn't so bad, after all, but still - I don't have to take orders from anyone now."

I don't think she heard anything past 'Dave got shot.'

"Oh my God, is he okay?"

Her eyes are quite wide. I can't imagine why.

"Uhhh..."

Wick has to think about it for a few seconds.

"Mm-hm. He'll be fine. I'm pretty sure, anyway. If he was dying, I'd know. So, yeah. He's fine."

"Oh. I better check in on Violet..."

Pause.

"So, you're free? What are you going to do with yourself?"

"I dunno... stuff? What I usually do. Y'know... fun things."

How very descriptive.

"Anything I want, pretty much," he concludes cheerfully.

"Try not to do anything that will endanger life, limb, or sanity? If you've got sanity, I mean. And don't try to blow up Dr. Barclay's car. Keye would be terribly upset, you know."

Pause. It is cliche, but a shadow does pass over her face at the mention of Keye.

She didn't break up with him that long ago, you know, and he was a darling.

The little faery makes a face.

"If he knew what Barclay did to me, I bet he wouldn't mind," he sulks, "Not that blowing up his car would make up for it, but I'd call it even after that."

Wick, not known for his sensitivity, and too wrapped up in his little revenge plot, doesn't notice Taryn's brief change of expression.

"Wick, you'll get killed."

And that is genuine distress on her part for his sake.

"Seriously, don't try to blow up his car. Forget I said it."

"Fine," he huffs, though he's tempted to refuse just to prove that he doesn't have to do as anyone says. "I won't blow up his car."

...

"Can I set fire to his office instead?"
He's kidding, by the way.

"No. You may not."

He probably could, but it would be a very bad idea.

"I'd never speak to you again. Think of all the books he's got in there!"

"So what? They're just books."

Wick shakes his head.

"Anyway, I was only joking. I wouldn't really set his office on fire. Th' fire could spread if I did that, 'n that'd be bad."

"I like books."

She looks prim.

"And yes, that would be very bad. You could burn down the whole campus that way."

"Like I said - only joking," he says, and shrugs a shoulder. "I wouldn't do it."

Tiring of sitting on the windowsill, he flutters over to her bed and flops onto a pillow, lying on his back with his wings spread carefully out to either side.
Mm, comfy.

"Mmmmm. So, how're you lately?"

"Good."

And she shrugs a little and fiddles with her computer and looks shifty.

"Okay, mostly."

"Okay, mostly?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Only? How 'bout that. Why?"

Shrug.

"Broke up with Keye."

There are entirely too many people that she has to explain this to, and it gets tiresome explaining it.

"Long story."

"Aw, that's too bad..."

He has mostly earnest sympathy in his voice.

"What happened? D'you have a fight?"

"Not exactly. It just wasn't working, 's all."

And that is all she will say on the matter, thanks. No details for Wick; he has no concept of discretion.

"Oh. Okay."

And he drops the subject.
Yes, it's that easy.

"...Hey, c'n I stay here tonight?"

"Sure. No problem. Anytime you like."

She tilts her head.

"Why?"

"Because." He closes his eyes. "I'm not going back to Dave's,... and I don't feel like searching all over for a place to sleep. It's really cold out, you know."

...

"...and I won't be a pest. Promise."
Just in case she needs extra convincing.

"I already said yes, didn't I?"

He's a silly little boy if he thinks that she'd refuse him... anything, really. He's too cute to refuse.

"You'll have to watch out for my roommate, though; she doesn't know about stuff. Also, how long're you staying?"

"Okay. I'll stay out of sight for her, then. No problem."

Part of not being a pest, according to Wick, means not wearing out his welcome, so...
"Mm... Just tonight. I'll be gone tomorrow - I can find someplace else."

"If you still need somewhere to stay, you can always come back, 'kay?"

He won't wear out his welcome as long as he doesn't do anything permanently damaging to her things or her books or her room.

"Okay. But I'm not going to bother you," he says firmly.

Wonder how long he can keep himself from doing anything damaging, period...

"I don't think you can exist without bothering, Wick."

Her grin says she's teasing. He's a bother, yes, but a cute bother.

"I can, too."

He pouts, then sticks his tongue out at her.
Of course he can.

He can do whatever he wants - ...he just might not want to not be a bother.

"No, seriously. You would go absolutely crazy if you weren't bothering somebody."

And she loves him for it. Mostly. He has occasionally annoyed her, but just a little bit.

"Wouldn't," he shakes his head. "I could go for as long as I wanted without bothering anybody, I just don't want to. So there."

Wick thinks he could, and that counts for something.
But the fact is, he just can't.

"If you say so."

She is skeptical. But she is also amused, in the same kind of way one is amused by someone incredibly cute and cuddly.

The faery is just a bit offended.

"I'll prove it, then," he huffs. "How long'll it take for you to believe me? I bet you I can go months without even thinking of bothering anyone."

...Yeah, right. Maybe when pigs fly.

She laughs.

"If you can pull no pranks whatsoever for a whole month, I'll believe you."

"A month?" Wick snorts. "Fine. That'll be easy."

Ooh, boy. This will be fun to watch.