A/N - I love listening in on these guys conversations. They way they interact gives me the warm fuzzies.
There's a scrape of the chair as Wilford moves it to join Dark at the table. Wilford had felt a hankering for one of the sugary pastry things that Trimmer made. He may have to get him to make those for long days in the studio. After grabbing one, he'd intended to join the fun back on the dance floor, but when he sees his favorite killjoy sitting at a table on his own, Wilford figures he could probably do with a break.
Sat up straight Dark is the picture of composure, though Wilford notices the nervous tapping of his fingers against the table and the occasional sideglance to where Natemare is stood at the edge of the dancefloor.
Wilford shakes his head as he breaks apart the pastry in his fingers. "Let it go."
The drumming stops and Dark's fingers curl into a fist on the table. "He doesn't belong here."
"Neither does your pixie."
"That's not the same."
Wilford nods. True, Marvin may not have tortured, kidnapped, and dismantled anyone in the building yet, but Bing was the one who came to Wilford and asked the pink man to take him to where they'd found him. Bing is the one who offered Natemare the protection that Dark is always saying that the building allows them. Bing is the one who freely admits that he hasn't forgiven the spirit but doesn't believe he should suffer.
"If Bing is willing to give him a chance, then it's really not our place to intervene."
"He's a child."
Wilford chuckles. "And yet if you were to push most of this building to choose between standing behind you or standing behind him, you would lose."
Dark turns to look at Wilford, still stern, but Wilford can see a strange vulnerability in Dark's eyes. Nobody but him ever seems to see it. "Does that include you?"
"I'm always on your side, Dark." Tearing the pastry in half he raises it to his lips, pausing. "I can hardly call you on your bullshit from across the room."
Wilford tosses the pastry in his mouth as Dark snorts, trying not to laugh but ultimately failing as the smile on his lips is undeniable. In fact, Dark's whole demeanour seems to relax as he turns towards his old friend. "You seem clear minded today."
The pink man gestures to their strange little family, dancing in the middle of the room in ways that they'll probably regret if they ever find out what it looks like. "Good times. Good people. What's not to stay clear-minded for?"
Suddenly, the music glitches, stuttering before being consumed by a loud low frequency -bowm-. Red moves to the disc player, not understanding what's happening. When he touches it, a strong shock zaps him, leaving him shaking as he draws away.
Dark and Wilford are instantly on their feet, old friends in tune, both able to sense that strange errant spark in reality that always seems to accompany impending disaster. Everyone on the dance floor looks around in confusion at the sudden loss of music. None of them notice Wilford taking out his gun.
Google rushes to the music player while Green and Oliver make sure Red's okay. The blue droid is also shocked, but he ignores it, pushing past the pain to stop the speakers as the tone begins to rise in pitch. Silver's the first one to cover his ears, letting out a grunt as it continues to rise. Bing soon follows, then the Googles. Soon, everyone is clamping their hands over their ears in a desperate attempt to block the sound out. Silver can't hold it in any more, and screams for it to stop.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Four quick shots take out the speakers and everyone is gasping at the sudden silence left behind. Dark steps forward, one hand still to his head as he looks over everyone in panic. "Is everyone alright?"
Everyone looks to each other, giving a general grumble in reply. Somehow, a small terrified voice manages to be heard above them all.
"….Jim…?"