A/N: Here is just an idea that popped into my head.

Every night Frexspar Thropp would come into Elphaba's room and tell her "sleep." Nothing more. Nothing less. When Elphaba was four years old, she got an idea. Maybe…just maybe, if she fought fire with love, her father might not hate her. She actually got the idea from a book. So tonight when her father came in and told her to sleep she climbed into bed and said, "I love you, Daddy." Frex turned and looked at his eldest.

"What did you say?" He asked. She sounded so innocent, even scared.

"I love you, Daddy." Elphaba repeated. Frex couldn't repeat the words. He simply turned and walked out of the room. Every night this continued. Elphaba would say, "I love you, Daddy." and Frex would walk away. Elphaba decided to add something. The next morning Elphaba came into Frex's room and kissed his cheek. Frex opened his eyes to look at his eldest standing there. He had felt the softness of lips on his cheek and for a moment thought it was Melena coming to wake him. Instead he saw his daughter. He got up and walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast, which Elphaba had already made. That night when Frex came in he heard his daughter say the words she had been saying for the past two weeks. "I love you, Daddy." He looked to Elphaba and studied her for a moment. She had her mother's eyes, the look of innocence written in them. He decided that night that his daughter couldn't be all bad and for the first time…repeated the words. "I love you too Elphaba." With that he left and the last he saw was a brilliant smile on Elphaba's face. He had to smile also.

This tradition continued.

Sixteen years later, the Wicked Witch of the West went to Frexspar Thropp's grave with a bouquet of poppies. She set them on his grave and kissed his name. A single tear landed on the ground below. "I love you, Daddy." She stood, got on her broom and flew into the night.

The end.