A/N: This plot is -

1. By Wickedly Hope Pancake and from her bunny adoption centre.

2. Being written by NellytheActress and (previously) Muffinsweep11

How and why I'm writing this is a great story that deserves to be told some other time. This first chapter was written by Muffinsweep11, but I made some minute changes to incorporate my style into the bunny. Technically, she'll still be a major part of this since I shall pester her to help me with the story once in a while. I'm very unsure of how this tale is going to unfold, but as for now... enjoy!

"Bick, how long have you been standing there?"

"It's Boq," the munchkin corrected once more. "And I've been standing here waiting for about... an hour?"

"Waiting for what?" asked Galinda curiously. "The cows to come home?"

"For you to put on your make-up, Miss Galinda," replied Boq with a nervous grin on his face. "So that I can escort you to Economics."

Galinda plastered a sweet smile on her face. This was no unusual happening; she'd find Boq waiting outside her dormitory every morning - with only one exception when he had food poisoning after Fiyero had dared him ten bucks to swallow a chunk of moldy cheese that had been lying in the courtyard for a week (he'd landed himself extra lunch money he could not use). Sometimes, Boq's obsession over her was a evident thorn in her side.

"Why, Biq, that is very sweet of you, but I believe Miss Nessarose would've had more use of your ushering," she replied. Then she gave a small over-practiced gasp as she added, "You haven't forgotten about the poor girl, have you? Letting her push herself down those crowded hallways, carrying a burden of books in her lap?"

Boq shifted uncomfortably. "I-I suppose so..." He took a sudden interest in his shoes. "I guess... I guess I'd better get going then."

With a sigh, Boq pushed back the shock of untidy hair that kept falling into his eyes because he couldn't afford a haircut. Then he scurried down the hallway. Galinda watched his retreating back, wondering if she had indeed done some good. Nessarose genuinely liked Boq, she could see that, so wasn't it killing two birds with one stone? She wouldn't have him tailing her everywhere 24/7, and Boq and Nessarose would be together.

But she knew Boq wasn't truly happy.

Galinda shrugged. Practical choices had to be made sometimes, like how she'd just skipped Economics by using the time to do better things.

Like putting on make-up.

When Fiyero emerged from the headmistress's office with a long face, Galinda knew exactly what was coming.

"Morrible - "

"Assigned you detention for sleeping in class again and you can't attend tonight's date because you have to peel gum off desk bottoms," finished Galinda.

Fiyero pecked her on the nose. "You know me so well."

"I know I do," said Galinda flirtatiously. "And I do hate that carp; she's way too tight. But really, Fifi, this is the tenth time you've landed in detention." She huffed in frustration. It was indeed getting on her nerves; they kept on cancelling their dates because of Fiyero's misdeeds. They wouldn't be able to hold it the following few days after because Fiyero would've eaten the gum and landed himself in the infirmary with gastric flu.

"I'm sorry, Linny," said Fiyero. "I knew I should've listened to Avaric when he told me to put 'narcolepsy' as one of my afflictions and accepted his offer to forge a doctor's letter for me."

"What's narcolepsy?" asked Galinda.

"I don't know," replied Fiyero, shrugging. He flashed her one of his charming smiles. "But Avaric tells me I could've used it as an excuse for my sleeping in class."

The grin transformed Fiyero's face, turning him back into the happy young boy he'd been before dancing through life had turned his life upside down two years ago. For a moment, his cerulean eyes sparkled with merry, mischievous intelligence—but then the grin faded, replaced by the plastic expression he had adopted.

"Well, why didn't you?" demanded Galinda.

"Well, the thing is, according to my student's profile, I suffer from ADHD, narcissism, OCD, dementia and a whole bunch of other psychiatric problems I've never even heard of," Fiyero explained. "One more and they'd think I probably need a straightjacket."

"I say OCD means Ominous Cosmetic Disaster," suggested Galinda.

Fiyero shrugged again. "Maybe," he said. He slipped an arm around Galinda's waist. "C'mon, let's go dance through life."

"Your pants are way too tight," muttered Galinda.

"Galinda! For the last time, give me back my clothes!"

"Not a chance, Elphie, now that I'm free, I'm gonna completely redesign your closet – that includes the lingerie, by the way."

Elphaba's eyes nearly popped out of her head, too distracted to continue scrubbing Morrible's huge caldron in which Galinda had boiled herbs in during Sorcery the day before. There were stubborn black scorch marks all along the bottom, and if Elphaba didn't manage to get them out, Morrible would be sure to have Galinda's head. It was hard to get anything clean when the only thing she was given to scrub the pot with was the ash from the communal coal fire, which left Elphaba's fingers contrastingly red and raw. The one time she had asked for cleaning spells, it had earned her a curse from the stingy old bat.

"You want me to wear pink bras too?"

"Yes," replied Galinda matter-of-factly, as she sashayed down the hall with another bundle of Elphaba's black dresses. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Elphaba pursed her lips, before muttering a simple spell, and the clothes in Galinda's arms disappeared. The blonde staggered, unbalanced from the lack of burden, and she whirled around, slightly confused. "Where did they go?"

"Back into my closet," Elphaba turned on her heel and headed back to the dormitory. "Where they belong."

Galinda stomped her foot indignantly. "That's not fair! You've got magic!"

"Nothing in this world is fair, Galinda," called back Elphaba, "I'm a brilliant example of that." She waved a green hand over her shoulder. "Now let's get back so we can study, shall we?"

"But – "

"The only butt I want to see is yours, following me back to the dormitory," said Elphaba flatly. "We have a history test tomorrow, Galinda."

The corners of Galinda's lips slid down her face, but followed her green roommate nonetheless. "But I hate history! Why do you even want to study it?" she whined. "I don't get why people have to harp on the past so much. It's illogical."

"There's no logic in this world, Galinda, you'll see that soon enough."