Bonjour! It's good to see me, isn't it? Long time no see, Wicked readers - this is the prologue to a little plot bunny that has been bothering me for ages and I want to see whether I still have an audience. I have interesting places to take this so it'll be a shame if no one wants to read it. I hope you're all well! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: Really, if I owned it would I be sitting here?! Wicked is not mine!


Elphaba slumped wearily at the bar in the student's union; gingerly toying with the toothpick impaled cherry floating in her mocktail. The events of the day had hit her incredibly hard, and she struggled once again to force down the choking sobs trying to fight their way out of her throat. Sniffing loudly, the green girl downed the last of her fruity beverage in one gulp before slamming the glass back to the bar.

"I hope that had alcohol in it."

The sudden words in her ear made Elphaba start violently, her little round glasses almost falling from her face. Fiyero Tiggular appeared over her shoulder, sliding without invitation onto the neighbouring barstool.

"Can I help you?" she asked acidly, wrinkling her nose at the sight of his too-wide grin. Fiyero laid a hand over his heart, pretending offence.

"Come on, Elphaba. Anything that brings you to the union on a school night is worth me coming all the way over here. You don't even have Glinda with you. Spill!" The prince nudged her shoulder with his and gave a conspiratorial wink, eliciting Elphaba's standard reply: an almost painfully exaggerated eye roll.

"Don't you have friends you should be showing off to right about now?"

"You wound me, Thropp."

"Go away, Fiyero. I'm not in the mood," Elphaba snapped, scrunching up her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose between two long, thin fingers. Fiyero's genuine hurt flashed momentarily across his face, quickly being replaced by his usual cocky smirk.

"Well, can't blame a man for trying," he muttered, taking two swaggering steps back towards his cronies in the corner before he was stopped by a bony emerald hand held in front of him. Quirking the corner of his mouth he returned to his stool, pulling it slightly closer and ducking his head to listen to whatever his sort-of-friend was wound up about now.

To his horror, a tear worked its way out of Elphaba's closed eyes and down her cheek. Panicking slightly, he motioned to the bartender for drinks and fought the urge to sit on his hands – crying girls made him uncomfortable, especially girls like Elphaba. What could have gotten to her so much that she was crying? Not getting full marks on an essay? The girl in question pursed her lips angrily and wiped away the tear, her dark eyes opening to reveal her heartbroken expression.

"I don't know if you heard," she murmured jaggedly, picking distractedly at a sticky stain on the bar top, "but you know today, what happened to Doctor Dillamond?"

She paled slightly, looking very much like she was going to vomit. Fiyero frowned – their history professor had been found dead that morning, his jugular artery severed by a piece of broken glass he had apparently stumbled into. A very messy business, as far as Fiyero could understand. He nodded slowly, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't going to say what he feared.

"I'm so sorry, Elphie. I know you were really close-"

"I was the one who found him."

Her interruption hung like a thundercloud in the air between them, and the prince found himself reaching out a hand to the girl before him. She looked utterly sick to her stomach, completely justified tears threatening once again at the corners of her almond shaped eyes. Frustrated at her own weakness, Elphaba sniffed again, clenching her fists tightly and trying to banish the image of her dead mentor from her mind. A tiny part of her wanted to cling to Fiyero and sob, but she knew that would do no good – life must always go on. She did, however, accept the comforting hand her sort-of-friend placed gently on her shoulder, stroking the rough wool of her blazer with his thumb.

Choking out a false, heart laugh, Elphaba looked away from Fiyero's earnestly sympathetic gaze and sought out the bartender.

"This one is on you, okay?" she chuckled weakly to her companion, nodding at the two glasses the employee was currently setting before them. They were tall and thin, filled to the brim with a glittering green liquid that looked to have the thick, smooth consistency of melted caramel. Fiyero picked up his glass and sniffed it hesitantly, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I think your absinthe is off," he said dully, mesmerised by the shimmer of the liquid under the white lights. The barman looked affronted for a moment, before laughing and shaking his head, wagging a finger between them.

"Not at all, your highness. This is a classic vintage – comes from beyond the desert, we only get a few bottles a year so I keep it for special occasions. Known as Miracle Elixir, it is, and it's a fantastic pick me up. You look like you could use one," he added slyly to Elphaba and she scowled darkly at him.

"Is it alcoholic?"

"Yes."

"Is it strong?"

"Not too strong."

"Strong enough to make me forget?"

There was a pause as they watched Fiyero sip his drink, lick his lips and then, seeming to approve, down the entire thing. The barman's eyes flicked between them as he watched Elphaba drink hers, gasping for breath at the end and motioning for another.

They polished off an entire bottle between them, and he had to throw them out at closing time. The green girl leaned heavily on the shoulder of the Arjiki prince, a delirious smile etched onto her face.

"I'll certainly sleep tonight," she grinned at the barman as he locked the door. He nodded.

"Oh, aye. Rare expansive dreams, you'll have. Enjoy your night."

The students stumbled off in one direction and he headed the opposite, a knowing smirk etched on his face.


Please review so I know whether it's worth pursuing this plot bunny!