Note: So it's weird how, when I started out intending to write about wanton slashy makeouts, it somehow randomly ended up as G-rated introspection for an unrelated character (with remaining vague allusions to possible future makeouts). But I like this old-ish snippet for what it is, and... kinda forgot where I had planned to go with it anyway. Hrm. ._.

Takes place in a vague mythical time period after Dancing Through Life but before Dr. Dillamond's arrest.


"Hello, Boq," Elphaba said, sitting down across from him. She wasted no time in pulling an enormous textbook from her bag and opening it to where she had left off in class. Only after a second thought did she pick up the bag again, fumblingly, and take out an apple for her lunch, her eyes never once leaving the page. "Where is my sister, do you know?"

"Stayed behind to speak to her music instructor. She told me not to wait for her." He was glaring with fixed intensity at something behind her, across the room. Elphaba suppressed a sigh, knowing exactly what was distracting him. Galinda and Fiyero were always the center of attention wherever they went, and although Galinda would have gladly made room for Elphaba to join them at their table, she preferred to avoid the crowd. Besides, Nessa wanted to sit with Boq, who would not have been accepted into a group made up of Gillikinese nobility and others from wealthy families even if Galinda herself deigned to invite him.

Although she would never admit it to herself so freely, Elphaba could sympathize with his desire to be accepted, but she found his lack of restraint in the matter to be impossibly irritating. Even if she thought it would be effective, she wouldn't allow herself to be as foolish as to scrabble around so in a desperate attempt to rise in someone's – anyone's – opinion. It wasn't worth losing one's dignity over.

Still, she didn't mind his company, not least because he was kind to Nessa. As devoted as Elphaba was to her sister, she had to admit that the proud, hopelessly spoiled Nessarose could be something of a challenge, and the fact that Boq treated her with respect in spite of her occasional tantrums was enough for him to win Elphaba's approval. He also didn't insist on making inane small talk instead of leaving her to her thoughts while she read (it was more than she could say for Galinda), which made her more willing to forgive the ways in which he showed an abysmal lack of subtlety.

Feeling a strange surge of pity, Elphaba shut her textbook and addressed Boq – still enraptured by the beautiful young lady at the center table, she thought, although she hadn't turned to look – with a mix of charity and bluntness. "The two of you are entirely unsuited, you know."

His gaze snapped back to meet hers with more alarm than she thought necessary. "What?"

"You and Galinda."

"Oh," he said, flustered. "Oh, yes, that. I was just wondering – I was actually wondering about Fiyero."

"Fiyero?" Elphaba didn't bother to hide her distaste. "Wondering about what?"

"He's just… he was…" After a moment of casting around uncomfortably for a polite response, Boq seemed to give up with a frustrated shake of his head.

"Do you mean to say maddening?" Elphaba prompted. The boundaries of propriety meant nothing to her; it was usually necessary to ignore them in order to be able to say anything important. "Because if so, I agree."

"You might call it that," Boq said in a low voice. Biting his lip – hard – he finally turned his attention to his lunch and began poking forlornly at the food with a spoon. Elphaba kept quiet. This line of conversation was marginally more interesting than her studies at the moment, and she could tell that he hadn't yet said all he wished to.

Finally he noticed that she was still watching him, expectantly. He pushed his plate away with a sudden decisive motion. "It's just that he thinks he can do whatever he wants!" he snapped.

"If his previous acquaintances have all worshiped him as much as our fellow students do," Elphaba said, "I can see how he might have come to that conclusion."

"Just because of how he looks. Just because he's handsome and rich and has a questionable reputation and –" He cut himself off with a chagrined look, and lowered his voice. "He's a distraction, that's all I mean. Have you seen how everyone stares when he enters a room?"

Including you, apparently, Elphaba thought, annoyed. "Don't be another one to fall under his spell, then," she said briskly. As if there weren't far more important things to occupy one's mind with.

"Good advice indeed," he muttered. He sighed and let his head slump forward, sliding his fingers through his already unkempt hair. "People shouldn't be that perfect. It just invites everyone around them to feel inadequate in comparison."

"Aside from your tone, you could almost be describing Galinda," Elphaba said, in as mild a voice as she could manage. "It's hard to tell whether you're criticizing her level of perfection or admiring Fiyero's."

Boq shot her a truly miserable look, just as Nessarose finally joined them. After greeting them she quickly launched into a description of just how much her music instructor felt she had improved since joining the class, and Boq seemed relieved to have something less improper to talk about for the moment. Elphaba only half-listened, gladly returning to her reading. She didn't have the patience to indulge other people's insecurities; she hardly had patience enough for her own.