Title: Of Autumn Leaves and Silliness
Author: Sedri
Rating: PG / K+
Summary: Fiyero and Elphaba spend a playful morning together. Pure romantic fluff and mindless cuteness. A gift for AnnaB. Elphaba/Fiyero, Musicalverse.

Disclaimer: Neither Wicked nor the world of Oz are mine in any way.

Author's Notes: This is set in an AU 'verse: For those of you who have read Vizier, it could be that 'verse, set shortly after the story ends; otherwise, just consider it an AU in which Elphaba didn't become a fugitive.

Many thanks to Kaylle for beta-reading.

Revised and reposted April 2012.

Of Autumn Leaves and Silliness
by Sedri

It was a cool, clear autumn day in the Emerald City, and far from living up to its name, every gleaming green street, roof, and gutter was clogged with a thick layer of crunchy leaves, none of which had the decency to stay their right colour after falling from their perches and onto the ground. The trees themselves were just as bad; every single branch was cheerfully waving little flags of red, brown, and yellow, and whatever genius had designed the picturesque avenues was probably hiding at home in tears, for every street, park, and plaza was lined with the tall traitors, cutting a brilliant reddish swath through the rooftops.

Fiyero kind of liked it. The carpet-like piles of dry leaves made it easy for him to scoop up a handful and throw them into Elphaba's unsuspecting face.

"Wha– ack! Fiyero!"

He grinned and dodged as she lunged at him, several bits of red stuck on her dress and her pointed hat askew. "What was that for?" she demanded.

"Fun."

One thin black eyebrow arched, and a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Fun?" she repeated.

It was only the twitch that saved him; she was fast. In half a second she had spun on her heel, snatched up a handful of her own and come barrelling toward him. If he hadn't had the warning, he'd have been eating those leaves – as it was, he ducked, and her missile went sailing overhead to scatter on the floor of the quiet little garden plaza they'd been walking through.

Of course, there was no way it was stopping there.

A moment later they were engaged in battle, and within a minute, full-blown war. Laughing their heads off, the two of them skittered around the plaza, grabbing any big-looking pile of leaves and hurling them at the other. Elphaba was a bit faster, but Fiyero had much better aim.

"Oof."

"Hey!"

"HA!"

"Missed!"

"Not for lo– CHEATER!"

A peal of hearty laughter burst forth as Fiyero fought to shield himself from the barrage of leaves that were being magically hurled at him from every direction; anything he deflected turned around and came straight back, twisting around like a little cyclone. Elphaba was cackling, doubled over and laughing so hard that she didn't realise what was happening until after Fiyero had tackled her, knocking them both into the grass and wrestling until a large bunch of crumbling, scratchy leaves had been thoroughly mashed into her long black hair.

She shrieked, still laughing, and scratched madly at her head, trying in vain to dislodge them. Fiyero chortled, almost making the same fatal mistake as she had by declaring victory too soon, and was just able to catch her as she pounced, grabbing her waist and rolling them over until he could kiss her.

The war pretty much ended there.

Elphaba groaned and snaked her arms around his neck, enjoying the moment, and the leaves in her hands fluttered down harmlessly around them. Fiyero pulled back, taking her with him, until they were sitting up in the pile of leaves, both so covered with crackling debris that they might as well have been camouflaged. They lingered there, fingers running through each other's tangled hair, lips pressing against lips, cheeks, jaws, and foreheads. Fiyero had a fond habit of kissing her ear and she shuddered, putting her warm hands on either side of his face before kissing him again, heedless of anyone who might see them.

No one did, though; this was a little-used road in the first place, and it was early morning on a fairly cold day. Elphaba and Fiyero had been heading for a little café that served nice breakfasts, but which probably wouldn't welcome them in their current state. Neither particularly cared.

Eventually they separated, and sat there for a while in a comfortable hug before sighing and surrendering to the prickling cold of autumn winds (real wind now, not Elphaba's first-year spell that had collapsed the moment she'd lost concentration). They stood up reluctantly, and Fiyero was in the middle of raking leaves from his hair and clothes when Elphaba suddenly cried, "My HAT!"

Thinking it was lost – not impossible in their little scuffle – Fiyero turned around with the very gentlemanly intention of helping to look for it. Instead he found himself face-to-face with the stiff black fabric, held up by a horrified and increasingly angry Elphaba.

It wasn't hard to see why. The old black hat, one of the few things Elphaba owned that she really cared about, was ripped halfway along the brim. It was impossible to tell how exactly it had happened, but both knew who had thrown the first handful, and who had started the tussle.

"I'm so sorry," he said honestly, touching her shoulder sympathetically. "I know how much you loved–"

"Fiyero," she said flatly. "You tore my hat."

Well-trained hunting instincts began to scream "Danger! Danger!" and his hands flew up in desperate surrender. "It's just a seam, right? That can be fixed..."

Her expression didn't change.

"Right now, Elphaba, I promise. There's a milliner not two blocks away and I know he's open. He can mend it."

"And if he can't?"

"…You'll probably kill me," he said. With a resigned, mournful sigh, he dropped to his knees and hung his head, as though the thin air before them was a guillotine. "Make it quick."

A bark of laugher escaped her, and she shook her head. "You're an idiot, Fiyero," she said, but it was fond again.

"Do you love me anyway?" he asked, looking up with deliberately large, innocent eyes. Now she laughed properly.

"Oh, get up," she said, swatting his ear. "Of course I love you."

He did so, but kept playing up the melodrama. "Am I forgiven?" he asked meekly.

"Only if they can fix my hat. Which way is it?" Fiyero pointed and they moved along, leaving behind the devastated little plaza.

To Fiyero's considerable relief, the milliner assured them such a tear could be sewn up easily, and as he had no urgent business at that moment – or, at least, he didn't once Fiyero laid an excessive amount of money on the table – scurried off to do so right away, assuring them it would take ten minutes at most. With the kind of quick, deferential bow that can only be bought, he disappeared into the back room.

Appeased, Elphaba started looking around. The shop wasn't all that big, but it seemed to be very profitable, for it was stuffed with hats of every size and colour (though mostly green), shaped in every way from simple to absurd. Some had fur, some had feathers, some were enormous and some were little more than flat discs of stiff lace. They were mostly ladies' hats, but there were a few meant for men, generally a little smaller or more subdued. Still, some were so ridiculous that Elphaba had to lift them up just to see how they could possibly be made to stay on a person's head.

"Don't tell me there's something you like better," complained Fiyero, who had been idly flipping through a magazine the milliner had left on the counter.

"Of course not," said Elphaba. "I'm trying to find something for you."

There was mischief in her voice, and Fiyero knew better than to ignore it. "For me?"

"Yes," she replied, and a moment later she poked her head back around the shelves. "Come here, I've found one."

Her smile was… well, wicked. Fiyero rounded the corner hesitantly, fully expecting her to force him into some twisted contraption covered in feathers, beads, fur, or some painful combination of the lot.

Instead she was holding a plain, floppy, cone-shaped black hat with a broad ring of beige fabric and a wide brim. "It looks like it was made for farmers," he said.

"Try it on."

His brow furrowed. "Why this one?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just try it on."

At that moment the milliner came out of his workshop, mended hat in hand, and while Elphaba was running her fingers over the new seam and examining it from all sides, Fiyero walked over to a mirror and tried the hat on. It looked… okay. It was comfortable, at least, fitting snugly, and the peak of the cone wasn't so high that he'd be in danger of knocking it off, but he couldn't figure out why she'd picked out this one. He was still puzzling over when Elphaba returned, standing next to him by the mirror, wearing her own plain, pointed black hat.

Oh. Oh.

"We match," she said.

Fiyero turned to her, surprised by the shyness in her voice. She caught his gaze and shrugged, looking at their portrait in the mirror. Softly, she added, "You don't have to wear it."

"I'm buying it," he declared, and paused just long enough to check the price tag before paying the surprised milliner (who had honestly never thought he'd be rid of the thing) and setting it at a jaunty angle.

Opening the door, he offered an arm to Elphaba. Surprised and delighted, she linked her elbow with his, leaning over to kiss him again before they walked, arm in arm, out into the sunlight.