AN:Why does it seem I cannot write a story over 1,000 words? I mean, When I read, I always seem to aim for those stories, since they provide a lot of good reading material and they're not over too fast.

Also, This was one of my first ideas for Fiyeraba. EVER. It's been tweaked a bit, and there have been things added to it (a Harry Potter reference, for example), but it's essentially the same idea I've had since seeing an irritated Fiyero near an extinguished fire shortly after seeing Wicked for the first time.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing.

It was cold- very cold. Not to mention it was snowing. What made it worse, Elphaba thought, was that her hands were now greenish-blue. Her nose and face were probably the same shade. She occasionally glared at Fiyero, envying the fact that he, being made of straw, was not affected by this confounded cold.

Fiyero, brainless scarecrow that he was, didn't even notice this- or, if he did, which Elphaba considered as a possibility by the way his steps seemed more and more uncertain, he did a rather good job of concealing it. Finally, it registered completely on him, and he looked at her. "What?"

"It's blasted cold out and you can't feel a thing," Elphaba growled. Fiyero now looked rather concerned. "How about starting a fire?"

This was what Elphaba had been hoping for, despite knowing Fiyero's aversion to fire. It was very bad to be flammable at times. "There's no wood!" she stated, reminding him that they were out in the open. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!"

Elphaba backed away just slightly from Fiyero at this point. "This isn't Harry Potter. Besides, fire would go out too easily on snow."

Fiyero paused. "An inn or something?" he suggested lamely. Elphaba could very well have face-palmed. "You know very well that we have not passed anywhere near any such place for a long, long time. Besides, we really can't stay anywhere, as I am, after all 'The Wicked Witch of the West'."

"I always hated that name," Fiyero said. "But really, what are you going to do then?"

Elphaba stared at him. She already knew what she was going to have to do, although she didn't really like that option. "Remember in Oz when you were with Dorothy?"

"Yes."

"And I found you after you met Boq the Tin Man?"

"Yes."

"And what happened then?"

"Um."

Elphaba really did face-palm, even though she was glad he seemed to have forgotten the whole incident. "I set you on fire."

Fiyero winced as he remembered. "That hurt."

Elphaba continued to look at him, waiting for realization to sink in. Suddenly, Fiyero seemed to realize what she was getting at. His eyes widened as he stared at her in utter shock and horror. "No. Nononononono…"

"Now Fiyero, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…"

Elphaba really didn't want to hurt him, not at all, but she was freezing and there was no other choice. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" Fiyero shouted, before running away as fast as his straw legs could carry him. He didn't get far before the green girl caught up with him and tripped him (which wasn't that hard).

"Whether you like it or not, you're going to lend some of your straw," Elphaba muttered darkly. Fiyero nodded quickly, knowing from experience that an angry Elphaba was not a good thing to have around himself.

When Elphaba woke up the next morning, she found a considerably annoyed and much skinner Fiyero, as well as burnt straw.