Hello, all! Firstly, I'd like to thank everyone who has nominated me and voted for me in the Fanfic awards thusfar. I wasn't nominated last year at all, so it's nice to see. And I probably won't be nominated next year, because I'm rapidly losing the follow-through on these fics. So it means a lot to be in so many categories with such talented authors as yourselves.

This is a new series of oneshots, because they're fun. They're short, just little romantic moments among... various pairings.

Please R cheers.

"I want a dozen wives," Avaric announced boldly one day while they lunched.

This, of course, caused an uproar among the friends. Galinda, Pfannee, ShenShen and Boq made indignant sounds (with varying levels of integrity); Nessa sniffed haughtily and blushed; Crope and Tibbett looked grossed out (for, indeed, even the mention of one wife was enough to turn their stomachs); Fiyero threw a handful of bread crumbs at his friend, and Elphaba rolled her eyes.

But amongst this flurry of activity, Fiyero leaned closer to Elphaba and murmured, "You only need one if she's the right one," in her ear.

Elphaba bit her lower lip, smiling that same shy smile that had first captured Fiyero's attention, and he ghosted his lips over her cheek before turning his attention back to the others.

"You're terrible," ShenShen flirted, pretending to be appalled.

Elphaba stilled the vomit rising in her throat and focused on picking pieces of her sandwich off and chewing them quietly. "Wanna get out of here?" She shivered at the feeling of Fiyero's lips near her ear again, and nodded, making to stand instantly.

"Elphie, where are you going? Fiyero?"

Both were now standing, looking down at their band of friends. "We're off to... be away," was all Fiyero offered, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's waist. "See you all later. Try not to marry Avaric," he suggested. "You won't have him to yourself for long."

"That's no different from now," Boq pointed out, inciting a laugh among his peers.

"Munchkin," Avaric grumbled, though his mouth fought a grin, also.

As Elphaba and Fiyero took a leisurely stroll across the grounds and the sounds of everyone else faded away, both thought of how lucky they were to have the other. "Where do you want to go?"

"You didn't have a plan at all, did you," Elphaba sighed.

"My plans are all the same," he shrugged. "I thought I'd give you the chance to vote... If not, my bed misses you."

"Don't be a pig," she bossed.

"I'm not being a pig," he whined. "The last time you and my bed were familiar, what did it entail?"

Elphaba thought back, then wrinkled her nose, realizing that Fiyero was about to prove a point to her. "I read and you sketched an apple. Then, you ate the apple, and were left with no choice but to sketch me, which I hated."

"Exactly. Just because I want you on or in my bed doesn't mean it's sexual. I mean," he half-grinned at her, "it is sexual, because I want you so bad. But it's not purely sexual. It's only mostly sexual, as is everything to do with you."

"You make me sound like a call girl."

"Nope, just my very sexy girlfriend," he shrugged. "I would suggest we go to the library, but you get so embarrassed when I start flirting with you in public... My dorm just skips a step."

"All right, all right, you're off the hook," she cried. "I have to finish an essay, though."

"But Elphie - Fae," he corrected at her look. "It's Saturday."

"Essay," she repeated, remaining firm. "With or without you."

He nodded. "I'm dating the school brain," he mused. "How unlike me. I dig it, though."

She smiled, and took his hand in hers. He let her into his dorm, when they got there, and tossed his keys onto his dresser. "Did you leave that book here? Because if you're going to -" He was silenced as she pulled him close and kissed him, tugging him toward his bed. "Is your essay about making out with your boyfriend?"

"No," she laughed, dropping down into her back and pulling him with her. "I tricked you about the essay. You came anyway," she smiled, and, for a moment, he saw that his passing her little test allowed her to pass her own measure of confidence.

He realized that he was being rewarded. "I like rewards," he smiled.

"And I like you." She reached for the collar of his shirt, nimble fingers undoing the buttons there quickly. "I really do," she confessed. "You're so wonderful."

His heart melted to hear it, and he traced her jaw with the pads of his fingers. "I try to be wonderful for you; I'm working on it."

She smiled and leaned up to kiss his now-exposed neck, and he smiled, also.

Yes, one wife would be more than enough.