A/N: OK, haven't updated this in a couple of, erm, weeks. Ok, yeah, sorry 'bout that. ANYWAY! You know what makes me happy? Well, it's not a hard thing to guess. This thing makes every REVIEWING! (No flames plzthx). It makes me sad that I have been getting one review per chapter… :( SO PLEASE REVIEW! Sorry to be begging like this.

Hmmm… do I own Wicked? Or Son Of A Witch? NO! That's why this is on FANfiction, not fictionpress.

Shout-out this chapter to BlackbirdIllusion, who "finally" made an account to be able to review! That makes me happy!

THIMBLES! And on with the fic…
Saran VD

Green: The Life and Times of Fae, the Witch's Granddaughter

Chapter 14: Cindy

Fae was cautious. Not that she didn't trust Mark's family or anything, but if there was one thing Dorothy managed to get through Fae's often incredibly thick skull, it was that she had to be careful. There were too many Ozians trying to capture her, if not kill her. For this reason, Fae was a little hesitant to enter Mark's house.

Mark was a little confused. "Ummm…"

"Oh, right," said Fae, trying to cover up her nervousness. "Sorry." She slipped through the door. The heavy soles of the boots were loud on the hardwood floors, and she itched to take them off. "Can I…?" she started to ask.

"Erm… sure," said Mark. He didn't know quite what she wanted, but it couldn't be anything horrible.

Fae peeled off the boots. "THANK YOU!"

Mark blinked stupidly. "Right. Well -eh-hem- let me just finish washing the dishes… you can, erm, go in the den…"

"Sure," said Fae, glad to be over the awkwardness. Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea.

She simply sat on the couch, her eyes darting around the room. There was some sort of coarse rug, probably handmade, on the floor in front of the couch. There were no lamps to keep the room lit, so she was sitting in the dark, which was fortunate.

"Mark, honestly, you take forever to do the dishes. I can't figure out why Mom has you do them when you're so lousy at it."

"Thanks, Cindy," Mark grumbled.

Fae grinned to herself.

"Anyway, I left something for school on the bookshelf, I'm going to just grab it real fast. Then you can continue to proclaim your love to the plates, ok?"

Mark mumbled something that Fae couldn't quite hear, and she would've felt bad reading his mind.

Footsteps were coming towards the den. Fae looked around wildly and saw the shadowy shape of a shelf in a corner. Shit.

Quickly and without thought, she dove under the coffee table that was to the right of the couch just as Cindy lit a lamp.

"Binder, binder, dammit, where did I put it?" Cindy muttered.

Cynthia Cohen was tall and clearly athletic. She looked to be about seventeen or eighteen. Her strawberry blonde hair was a bit stringy and was pulled into a high ponytail. She wore a thick layer of eye shadow, and so much mascara that you could hardly see her grey eyes. Her lips were coated with bubble-gum pink lipstick. She was wearing a lacy baby blue nightgown that went to her knees, and she gave an air of being the next Galinda.

"Shit, why isn't it here?" Cindy was muttering. "Where did I put it?" And before Fae knew what was going on, Cindy was shuffling through the pile of papers on the coffee table. Several of the papers fell directly in front of Fae's face.

"Finally!" Cindy exclaimed, pulling a hot pink binder off of the table. She bent over to pick up the papers off the floor.

"CYNTHIA!" Mrs. Cohen yelled. "I thought you still had homework to do!"

"I know! I had to get my binder!" she called back, then mumbled something under her breath.

Fae tried to hide herself better.

Cindy, without looking (fortunately), scooped up the fallen papers and threw them unceremoniously back onto the table. She left in a huff.

Fae crawled out from under the table and made a mad dash towards the door. Mark didn't let her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"You think I know?!" she snapped in reply.

"Seeing as you are running out my front door at top speed, I would say yes."

She glared at him. "Just because I'm running away doesn't mean I have somewhere to go."

"Why are you running away? You seem to do that an awful lot."

Fae ignored him, mainly because he was telling the truth.

"Come on, Fae. Please stay?"

"God, Mark, when you beg like that, it makes me think that you have something planned."

"Maybe I do," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"EW!" she shrieked, not caring if Cindy or Mrs. Cohen heard her.

"Fae, be quiet. If someone hears you…"

Cue Fae giving Mark a death glare. "You really think I'm not aware of how screwed I am?"

"Fair point."

"And now I leave the pencil. How did I get to be this absent-minded?!"

"Cindy!" Mark and Fae hissed at each other. Mark shoved Fae under the table.

"Still not done with the dishes, Marky?" Cindy said with a grin.

"What do you want now?"

"I left my pencil, but you probably heard me bitching about it." She was looking around her feet. Fae, in the meantime, was trying to keep from being noticed, but since the floor was black and the table had no tablecloth, that was proving to be difficult.

"Ah-HAH!" Cindy cried bending right in front of Fae's face (which was hidden behind Fae's hands) and grabbing her pencil. She was about to get up when she noticed Fae. "EEP!" she squealed, and dropped the pencil again.

Fae crawled out from under the table and straightened her skirt. She attempted a charming smile, but was not well practiced, so she looked a bit like a skinny green shark.

"Who the hell is this, Mark?! You're too young to be sneaking your girlfriend into the house!" she snarled at her little brother.

"Okay, one: she is NOT my girlfriend! Oh, and two: I'm nearly sixteen, Cindy. Need I remind you that your boyfriend snuck you into his house when you were both in eighth grade?"

Cindy growled, then turned to face Fae, taking in the two long braids, frilly dress, bare feet, and green skin. "Wait a minute, Mark! You're right; she isn't your girlfriend! She's that girl that the Wizard's after! Wait until I tell Mom!"

It was Fae's turn to growl.

Cindy went from bright and cheerful to paler than Mark, which was quite an accomplishment. "You say something?" she asked Fae, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"Will anyone actually care that I am someone other than 'the girl that the Wizard is after'?" Fae sighed. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but Fae interrupted. "You're included, Mark. Don't lie. You wouldn't have looked at me twice if I wasn't a thirteen-year-old anarchist. Well, maybe you would've. It's not everyday you see a green girl walking down the streets of the Emerald City."

None of them spoke.

Mrs. Cohen interrupted the silence. "Cynthia, how long does it take to get a… oh." She had just seen Fae giving Cindy a death glare. "Now, girls, now is not the time for staring contests."

Fae thought it was hysterical, but Cindy was upset. "Yeah, well, she started it!"

Fae snorted.

"Well, since you think it's all so funny, then tell us who exactly you are," Cindy snapped. "You know, since you hate what everyone calls you."

Fae cordially held out her hand. "Fae Thropp."

Cindy turned on her heel, gripping the pencil, and went back up to her bedroom.