Disclaimer: (checks shoes) Nope, still don't own anything from this story. Just my OC Ava. Check WWE.

What I really wanted to do was hit him. But, I weighed it over in my mind just how much the industry would sue my ass for it. Better leave his eyes the color they are. Which was...what, green? Brown? It was hard to make out in just the tech lights.

"Nah, maybe some french. Eh, alloutte?" I turned to the parrot who cooed softly.

The blonde rustled around in his pocket, finally pulling out a bag of unsalted peanuts. He shelled one and tossed it in the cage to a frenzy of feathers. "How about teaching him your name, I'm sure he's not the only one interested." He rolled the top of bag and put it back in his pocket. Cockily, he plopped down on the concrete next to the cage, cross-legged. "Well?"

I rubbed my eyes, just now feeling the exhaustion of my hike. "Ya know, they can shell the peanuts themselves. Talons work quite well at that." I attempted my claw again, fingers loosening up slightly but not fully. "My name isn't important, and neither is yours, actually. I'm outta here soon. As soon as I get some cash." The last part I murmured.

He cupped his hand behind his ear. "Hmm, didn't catch your name. One more time." He bounced, each time scooting closer to my feet. My lips remained shut as I pretended to be absolutely fascinated with the birds' eating habits. After a few seconds, he gave up the ear gig and sighed. Leaning back so only his knees were in the air he let out a few deep breaths. Suddenly, he rocked back and lept to his feet. "Ok, this is how it works," he said, extending his hand. "Since neither of us know one another we introduce ourselves like: 'Hi, my name is So and So." He leaned slightly to his left and switched into falsetto. "Now you say: 'Nice to meet you, I'm So and So!' See? Not very hard. Just give me your name and I swear I'll leave."

I wasn't going to give in, not after I'd nearly gotten lost on the ship. And the company of Allen was the last thing I wanted right now. "Nah, I want yours first." I circled him, looking for any clues to his identity. "You have a slight Southern accent, so I'm guessing your name is either Billy-Bob, Cleatus, or Phineaus."

He gave an enthusiastic laugh. "Ok, I'll play the game. Yes, I'm from the South. No, none of those are my name. Hmm..." He stroked the intricately shaved hairs on his chin. "You said you know French, so maybe your name is Michelle or Chantal. Am I right?"

"Not even close." I took a seat next to him. "I studied French for four agonizing years - honors classes. I'm from Massachusetts, but I am NOT a Mass-hole."

We sat staring at each other, each trying to deduce the others name by any means necessary. He broke first, finally standing. "Ok, I'll give you a clue." Much to the annoyance of the birds, he began climbing the cage. "I'll give you one of my nicknames." He called when he reached the top. With two fingers he pointed up, making a gun with his hand he motioned toward the ceiling.

"Up! Ceiling! Roof! Crazy guy on cage!" I threw out anything that came to mind. He shook his head and mimed smoking a joint. "Oh!" I exclaimed. "High!" He nodded approvingly. He then motioned toward the birds then extended his arms. "Um, wings! Bird! Fly!" He nodded and jumped down, landing in a crouch. I put it together. "High Flyer?"

"Well, its not really a nickname. Its more of a style. Heard of any?" I shook my head. He shifted his weight, dropping his head into his hand. "Look, just tell me who you are. Please?"

He was aggravated, but I was having fun. "Or what? You'll power-bomb me?" I batted my eyelashes, horribly trying to play a seductress. He just shook his head and made toward the door. But he didn't leave, instead he made a b-line for me at full sprint. At the last possible second I dove belly-to-pavement under his legs. But he was faster, he grabbed my right leg. Stepping over my body, he turned his back to me. I recognized this move - the only one my ex had taught me.

I knew I had to make a move or I'd be in a world of pain. Bending my leg, I kicked him in the small of the back. He stumbled and fell flat on his face. As I got up, he rolled over onto his back. But before he could stretch it out I pounced. Pinning both his hands under my knees and applying little pressure I held him in a modified five-point restraint.

"Ok, word to the wise: Don't mess with a former nurse trained to deal with unruly patients." He just stared up at me for a few seconds, shocked.

"Jeff." He muttered. "Jeff Hardy. Can you let me up now?"

I stood up and extended my hand to help him up. "Ava. Last name's not important. Nice to know you."

A/N: Ok, the "game" never really happened in the dream. I just thought it made things interesting. I'm not a nurse but I have a younger family member who has aggression issues. I was taught different restraints used on mental patients.

In the dream, he gave me a rose after we talked. But, its kinda cheesy...