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Fiyero wasn't very good at predicting the little changes that occurred because of an alteration he made to the timeline. He wasn't changing the weather or anything, but his relationships were all different. In many ways it was good, as he wanted—platonic with Galinda, influential with Boq, and… indefinable with Elphaba, which at least implied some kind of relationship even if he didn't understand it.

But then there were the little relationships that didn't even occur to him were important until later. For instance, there was the young lady from weeks before who wanted to "study" with him in his bedroom between classes. Needing neither to have a study buddy nor to be raped, he blew her off using the conveniently located Elphaba as an excuse. It was there in that he made a mistake, because if Elphaba hadn't been on the vixen's radar before he altered history she sure was now.

He saw them together in one of the many great bluestone corridors of Shiz's academic buildings. The great arched ceilings and minimal windows created an eerie tunnel-like environment that reminded the former Captain of the Guard far too much of Southstairs for his comfort, but this was one of the faster ways to cross campus to get to his economy class from the dormitories. He was going to be early for his classes, as he often was first thing in the day when he couldn't sleep the night before, when he saw that beautiful flash of green in the distance. He had decided he wouldn't say anything to her, wouldn't even act like he saw her, except that as he passed he could see that she was engaged in a conversation with none other than Tamla – he had eventually figured out her name as the semester went on – and judging by the wrinkle of Elphaba's brow it and the way her arms were crossed defensively in front of her, it wasn't a pleasant interaction.

He passed them surreptitiously and hid behind the corner of a junction that existed just feet beyond them, trying to eavesdrop. But the shuffling of dozens of feet and droning voices throughout the entirety of the giant corridor echoed and muffled the murmuring women. Fatigue and frustration made him drop his head back against the cold stone behind him. Boredom and annoyance with himself made him drop the curious matter from his mind and decide to just go to class but right as he stepped away from the wall a green body collided hard with him.

"Oof!" Elphaba uttered, having ricocheted off of his larger form, while he bounced back against the wall. Having seen that neither of them were hurt, he ran a hand reactively over his hair to fix it but she had bent down to the ground to retrieve books he hadn't noticed she had dropped. One of them was propped up against his boot and he grabbed it just as she went to swipe at it, and they both stood upright.

"Fiyero, give it back," she growled, clutching the larger textbooks she had picked up against her chest as her dark eyes glared at him. The neat bun at the back of her head seemed to have been jostled in the collision and her own hair was starting slip out of place.

"I will, just let me fix this," he told her, his fingers in the middle of trying to smooth out the wrinkles and creases in the corners of a few pages of the small, thick paperback from where it had fallen on its corner. Then he handed it back, but not without glancing at the title. "You're reading speeches of early unionist fathers? What boring class is that for?"

"It's not for a class," she said, snatching it back and tucking it between the large tomes and her chest, as if to protect it from him. "I'm just reading them."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't even know if I want to read them. I read them as poetry. I like the sound of the words, but I don't ever really expect my slow, slanted impression of the world to change by what I read." She seemed frustrated, but whether it was at herself for her confession or at him he wasn't sure of initially, but then she turned her icy glare on him and he recognized her annoyance with him. "What were you doing standing there?"

"Tying my shoes?" he threw out, even though they both already knew he had no laces on his leather boots. Her face got meaner somehow and he crooked a slight grin at that. "That's a lie. I was holding up the wall."

"Fiyero," she said in a warning tone.

"I saw Tamla talking to you."

"You've learned her name," Elphaba noticed, shifting her books for a moment so she could use a hand to brush a loose lock out of her face.

"Sure did— knew you'd be proud. Anyway, I wanted to make sure she wasn't giving you a hard time."

"Oh, so you were waiting in the wings to come to my rescue should the occasion arise?"

"No, not at all," he said truthfully, watching as the hair fell back over her forehead again. He resisted the urge to tuck it away himself. "I've noticed that any actions that I've done around you that would charm any normal girl has gotten an opposite reaction from you. Because of that, I think I've managed to entirely reverse my instincts in your presence. So no, I would not have gotten in the middle of whatever you were doing, even if she was clawing your eyes out. I wouldn't even pity you."

"That's oddly considerate," Elphaba said, smirking slightly. She blew the hair away from her face ineffectually; she finally caved and slid a thin finger against her brow to redirect the unruly tress. "I'll have you know your friend Tamla visits me at least once a week. She likes to take time to remind me of my place here at Shiz."

"What does she say?"

"She likes to reinforce the ideology of a Shiz hierarchy," Elphaba said nonchalantly. "Well, she uses less complicated terminology. But all of her monologues end with her reminding me that I'm at the bottom."

"Oh Elphaba, I'm so sorry. This is my fault."

"Fiyero, do you honestly think I care what she says?" she said, cocking her head slightly up at him, unaware that the hair had fallen free again. The fact that it was as stubborn as she was made him smile. "Everyone cares about their inclusiveness in this school and where they rank, but I've always been on the outside looking in and Shiz isn't any different. I'm here for Nessa and I'm here to get an education. Their little pecking order doesn't even register to me. So she can say whatever she wants. It's not even worth reminding her that I get His Royal Highness's unwanted attention regardless of my status in society."

"That you do," he said with a charming smile. "And let me just say thank you for the correct prefix. Sometimes people call me 'Your Majesty' and I have to tell them, 'Your Majesty is my father!'"

She chuckled at his cheesy, pathetic attempt at humor. He felt so good.

"So…you're okay then?"

"I'm fine. They're all barely faces in the throng and their mean comments fade into the din after years. I even get to the point of hoping for some originality."

"I'll try to think of something new for you if it'll make you happy," he offered.

"Don't strain yourself too much, I know how hard thinking can be for you," she quipped, her smile beating his this time as she started to retreat down the hallway.

"Very clever, Thropp," he called after her. "Hold up, you didn't tell me- am I just a face in the crowd to you?"

She scoffed, the heels of her boots dragging against the stone floor as she walked backwards away from him. "If only. You're far too annoying. Quit grinning like that, it wasn't a compliment."

"You think so, but everything gets turned around, remember? I'm actually having a hard time accepting your flattery."

"Oz, I can't deal with you."

It would have been fun to follow her, but his class was in the opposite direction.