Violet let herself into the theater, closing the door behind her as quietly as possible. She wasn't supposed to be here, really,... but neither was Dave. She'd just been to his apartment looking for him. Finding no one home, she immediately set out for the theater. After all, where else would he be? Dave and his theater were like Violet and her books, with the exception that books could be moved from place to place. The theater demanded that you go to it.

The girl padded quietly through the building, a slight frown on her face. She'd call out, but she didn't want anyone to know she was here. A handful of the crew knew her already, but she didn't want to risk someone she didn't know finding her and kicking her out before she could find Dave.

Dave is in the catwalks, examining an outlet that doesn't work, no matter whether the light that is plugged into it does. It could be something wrong with the outlet, or it could be something wired wrong somewhere else, or...

He glances down.

"... up here, Vi."

... great. Now he gets a lecture, doesn't he.

She slowly and deliberately crosses her arms and frowns up at him, pretending to be a lot more miffed than she really is.

"What are you doing here?" Violet asks, a smirk threatening to make its way onto her lips, "Shouldn't you be home?... There're these things called 'resting' and 'recovering'. I don't know if you've heard of them before?"

"There's only so much TV I can watch before I'm bored out of my mind," he answers, leaving the outlet for now and moving to where he can see her better and hopefully she can see him better.

"And I'm not doing any lifting or anything... Don't worry."

"That's not the point. You were shot, you shouldn't be back to work yet anyway."

She keeps up the reproachful look for another few seconds, then allows herself a grin.

"Seriously, though. Get down from there."

"I'm fine, really, Vi. It wasn't that bad."

... no, he was just shot and in a good deal of pain for a good long time. Not to mention the surgery and all that.

Sigh.

"I'm coming."

"'Kay. Thanks."

Violet wanders off to one side to wait for him to reach the floor.
She knows how much he loves the theater, but it really wouldn't hurt for him to take it easy. She's seen how tired he gets just before and after shows - the poor boy works too hard.

And he loves every minute of it. No matter how often he considers it or what happens, you couldn't drag him away from his theatre with a train.

He disappears from the catwalk and comes around. His breathing is somewhat more heavy than it used to be, for that short a walk.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She meanders over, and hugs him (carefully, as if he's breakable. It's become something of a habit). He can say, "Don't worry," but she does. A lot, and often. The chances of something bad happening to him while at the theater have something to do with this.

"How're you feeling?"

"'m good, Vi."

He hugs her back, somewhat more firmly.

""m also not going to break, silly."

"I don't know that for sure," Vi teases, stepping back from him and reaching up to tweak his nose. "What if one day I squeeze too tight and you fall to pieces? That would kind of suck."

She nods in the general direction of the exit.

"C'mon. You really shouldn't be here."

"It would, but I'm not going to fall to pieces, so quit worrying."

He sulks at her as she indicates the exit.

"C'mon, Vi, I just got back up here... They need me around to keep them from making idiots of themselves."

The girl raises an eyebrow, smirking.

"I could say the same about you," she kids, taking his arm and giving a gentle tug. "They'll do fine. If they don't - call it a learning experience. You'll be back before you know it, and then you can get back to keeping the idiots in check. Okay?"

"But they'll fuck everything up..."

There is a distinct thread of whining in his voice. This is his baby, stupid people shouldn't be allowed to muck with it.

"Vi... let me hang around just a little longer, 'kay? Please?"

He's giving her the puppy eyes.

Violet's resolve weakens visibly - the puppy eyes are her kryptonite.

"Weeelll... It depends." She gives him a Look. "What are you planning on doing?"
If it involves moving anything heavier than a script, she won't approve.

"Just checking stuff. Running the lights and making sure they didn't screw up cues and stuff. Nothing strenuous, promise."

... if he happens to need to move a light, well, that's not really strenuous...

"Mm,... I guess that's okay," she says grudgingly, smirking.

Violet slides her arm out from his, and pokes him in the side.

"But I still say you shouldn't be here."

"I told you, there's only so much TV I can watch before it drives me batshit crazy."

He sulks at her and takes her hand and heads for the light booth.

Violet pouts at him in return.

"Yes, well, there're other things to do that don't involve TV. Just 'cause you're not working, doesn't mean you have to be a couch potato."

He makes another face.

"There's not a lot to do that isn't stuff I bet you'd say is too much for me right now. Like working on my bike, or heading out to the track with it, or shit like that."

... he does have a point. His preferred forms of entertainment tend to involve a lot of moving around.

"I didn't say that." But she might as well have.

She shrugs.

"Anyway. It's not like I could physically stop you. I'm just... I just don't want you pushing yourself too hard, is all."