AN: Happy birthday to me :) So getting older, I've realized how much I've learned from you wonderful people and your reviews, so I thought I'd update my first fiction.

OZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZ

The strings crooned a pretty waltz. Toes tapped, and dancers laughed. The dull buzz of conversation hummed around her.

Elphaba wanted to scream.

She was bored out of her mind. How many of these ridiculous parties would Galinda drag her to? Oz, it was endless. She cursed the long vacation, stealing her failsafe excuse.

"I have to study," she'd tried, and though it sparked an argument even on the best days, it stretched the realm of plausibility over Lurlinemas break.

She tapped her chin, wishing a dancer would trip and fall careening into the fire alarm. Or spill wine on Galinda's dress. Or aim a crossbow straight at her own face. Anything at all different. Anything.

But no, like every other dance, Galinda beamed, and her audience adored. Elphaba watched, and felt utterly bored. Forbidden her books and dragged from her privacy into this whitewashed fantasy of happiness, she sat on the sidelines wishing to be in a coma.

She couldn't do it. She stood up. She couldn't just stay here, itching in her skin.

She had to do something, even something dangerous, just for the change. Something heroic, or wicked, she couldn't care less.

"You look lovely tonight."

Ugh, Fiyero. She tried a smile, but she knew it fell flat. "Thanks."

"Don't look too enthused."

Charming distraction though he could be, the boy just wanted to dance. Like always. And honestly, if they kept up this ridiculous back and forth much longer, she might explode.

He took in her expression. "Are you alright?"

"No." She deflated back into her chair. No, tonight would just be like any other. Another parade in the line of predictable pretense that made up her new reality. Maybe friendship wasn't worth it.

"Galinda?"

She frowned. "Not really, though why she makes me come, I couldn't say."

"She enjoys your presence." From across the hall? Could she leave without the girl noticing? "We all do."

Her arched eyebrow conveyed her skepticism.

"Want to dance?"

She let out a hiss of frustration and flopped forward.

"Okay, not the reaction I expected."

"Maybe it's past due for some unexpected," she complained to her shoes.

"You think so?" His voice came so close to her ear she jumped. He rocked back on his heels to avoid a collision. "Come with me to a party?"

She narrowed her eyes and waved her hand at the room. Not even he was this brainless.

"No, my friend. He's having one at his place. I haven't seen him in ages, so I'm going. Come with?"

"Me? Wouldn't you rather take Galinda?"

"Did I ask her, or you?" He moved closer. "You want unexpected? Then come on. Let's get out of here."

"To another party?" She made a face, and he laughed.

"It's not exactly a…Galinda kind of party."

"No glitter?"

His laugh boomed deeper. "No, though I should warn you, it's not really a cotillion. You game?"

He flashed a lopsided smile, studying her a little too carefully to maintain his casual demeanor. She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Fiyero grinned, and he tugged her toward the door before she could reconsider. She fought a laugh. A thrill of excitement thrummed through her. Would Galinda notice their absence? And what kind of party was this that he'd rather take her to?

As they walked, she prodded him for clues. "There's food?"

"Maybe."

"Drinks?"

He shrugged, his smile sly.

"Are there children there?"

He burst out a laugh. "Oz, I hope not."

"Clowns." He lifted an eyebrow. "What, I don't know what you guys are into?"

The scenery shifted from the typical university fare to a sketchier kind of neighborhood. The ramshackle brownstones grew dimmer and more dilapidated as they wound through narrowing streets. Peeling paint fringed windows spiderwebbed with fractures. She edged closer to Fiyero before she caught herself. But she refused to judge from appearances.

He stopped at a red door, or it had been. Flecks of dirt caked it as thoroughly as the chipped paint.

Knock.

She shifted her weight. What had she gotten herself into?

A thick-chested, square-jawed lug flung the door open. He narrowed his eyes at Fiyero, and then tugged him forward in a move half chest-bump, half back-slap.

He introduced her, but she missed the boy's name. He studied her, and she tipped her chin back, ready to defend her skin tone. His piercing gaze ran over her and back with a wolfish smile. "I would offer you a cigarette, but you're already smoking."

She blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry, are you with Fiyero? I'm not trying to poach."

"Poach?" His confusion at her confusion brought the blood racing to her cheeks. Was he flirting? With her? "I'm…what now?"

She turned to Fiyero, who wound an arm around her waist, his lips twitching not to smirk. "Gonna let us in?"

"Nah. Her, though…" But he stepped back, door held open.

Fiyero kept his arm around her, and she knew she should pull away. She wasn't oblivious. They assumed she was with him, and not in a friendly way. It should have bothered her, the assumptions and the flirting and the casual manner from strangers, but it didn't.

Why didn't it?

A tall, skinny boy slapped his shoulder and plopped a cold cup in her hand. Fiyero grabbed it away.

"Hey!"

He tipped it back, the ice clinking against the glass. "What? Oh, this?"

"That's mine." She frowned as he emptied the rest of the contents. "Was, anyway."

"You wouldn't like it. It's not punch."

She shoved off him. "And that's your decision to make?"

"You think you could handle it?" He absorbed her glare with a smirk that she suddenly wanted to smack right off his face. "It's pretty strong."

"Yes, I'm a weak, flouncy little thing, aren't I?" She faked a giggle and hair toss that would have made Galinda proud. "Where's a big strong man to lift my drink for me? I couldn't possibly."

"Fine, fine." He waved the guy over for another. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"I'll finish whatever you don't want then."

She snatched the drink out of his hand. Damn his smart mouth. She tossed the shot back in one gulp. Oz, that burned.

His face was priceless, gaping mouth like a fish. He swallowed.

She tipped her head back, ready to tell him off if he said a word, but he leaned close. "Damn, El, that was sexy as hell."

Heat flooded through her, but she maintained a chilled tone. "You'd better get used to it." She snatched the drink from a nearby boy's hand and tossed it back, too. Whether to prove she could, or to make him try to stop her, she couldn't really say.

He eyed her, and shifted back. "Do what you want, but I'd slow down."

Slow down. They'd been slowing down for ages. She was sick of slowing down. She grabbed another drink. "Maybe you've got no tolerance." Three drinks in, and she felt fine.

"Wait for it. It'll hit you soon enough."

She shrugged. "Promises, promises."

He frowned. "Are you sure-"

"Ask me if I'm alright, and I'll punch you in the face." He stepped back. Perhaps that had come out more hostile than she'd intended. "I don't need an Ama."

He edged closer again, shifting to let another pass. "I'm not convinced of that, but that's hardly my intentions."

"You have intentions?" she teased. "I thought you were Mr. Dancing Through Life. No plans, reactions-only."

He caught the tension in her voice, but didn't call her on it. "Dance with me."

"Dance?" She tossed a hand to her hip. "What is this, the Ozdust?"

He laughed, loud above the music, and pulled her after him onto the floor. "Not quite." The dancing here was more…intense. He tugged her flush against him.

The liquid encouragement gave her the confidence to twine her arms around his neck. His fingers played over the edges of Galinda's borrowed dress where it bared the skin of her back. She hid her face against his shoulder.

The temptation of him surrounded her, basking her in the warm play of his muscles against her body. The smell of his cologne drowned out all thought. His lips teased the skin of her hairline. One song bled into another. She pressed closer as the world whirled around them. She toyed with his collar, his stubble prickling the pads of her fingertips.

Galinda would have been proud, if it hadn't been with Fiyero, that is.

His friend slid by. He tapped Fiyero on the shoulder and jerked a nod to a shadowy staircase at the back.

Fiyero started to follow, but she pulled him back. "What's the matter?"

"Don't want to go."

He smiled. "Another dance?"

"Oh, you needn't look like the cat that ate the canary." He laughed, hugging her close. She shifted her hips to the music, melting into him. The throbbing bass pounded her heartbeat all around her. Her eyes fell shut.

His head dropped to her shoulder, his breath fast. He sighed into her neck, "This is a bad idea."

"What? Dancing?"

"Mm." He lifted his head, and his nose traced along the sensitive skin by her ear with a deliciously dangerous feeling. Her head fell back. His hands glided over her with more urgency, their hesitant distance evaporating with each beat.

She carded a hand through his hair, and half-fell onto him. The world twisted, but she couldn't care less.

"Okay, I think we need a break. Catch our breaths."

"Don't want to."

He tugged her to the back, and she stumbled after. "Are you sure you're alright? We could head home."

"Whose?"

That threw him, and he jerked short. "Huh?"

"Galinda's going to kill me. I can't think of an excuse."

He flushed.

"You know how she is about her parties. If I went to one without her…"

He swallowed, but before he could answer his friend bumped into him again. "Chicken? Come on," his friend teased, but Fiyero shook his head. "Look, for you? We'll even take credit."

She caught the boy's arm before he walked off. If Fiyero wanted her to leave, she'd need to recruit backup to stay. He spun back, that wolfish smile lighting his face. "What was your name again?"

"Whatever you'd like it to be. I'm not fussy. You can moan anything you want, and it won't hurt my feelings."

She slapped at his arm. "Cad."

"Sure, been called worse. Want to hit the bed now, or just right here against the wall?"

She shoved at him. "Seriously."

He laughed and mocked her expression. "Mercus." Then he tapped her chin, and she cackled at the absurdity of it all.

"Oz, you're adorable."

Her laughter approached a bellow at that. "I've been called many things, but never adorable."

The world swung again, and she grabbed his arm to steady herself. Mercus pulled her closer. "Falling for me already?"

"I should get her home." Fiyero stepped up, that soft smile gone now. He led her a step, but she balked.

"I don't want to go home!"

Mercus eyed his expression and sobered. "Sure. Then come to the back, you know, whenever you're done." He winked, and she chuckled despite missing the joke.

He flashed her a grin, and slid back into the crowd.

"I like him."

Fiyero didn't smile. "I noticed."

She pushed off him toward the back, wobbling, and he caught her waist with a steadying arm. She tipped her head against his shoulder to whisper like a secret, "But I like you better."

"You're drunk."

"I'm having fun." She tilted her face up at him and fluttered her lashes. She looked ridiculous, but he quit trying to turn her. "If you don't want to dance, we can check out that," she nodded toward the stairs. "I'll sober up and think of a better excuse. Please?"

He hesitated. "You'll sober up?"

She bobbed her head.

"Fine." Under his breath he mumbled, "I'm going to regret this."

She flashed a grin and fumbled up the stairs. The rail clutched in her hand kept her steady, and somehow she made it to the top. Only then did she worry about what she might find.

Drugs? Sex? An illegal fighting ring of badgers?

Nope. A group of people lounged innocently on the various surfaces, engaged in a surprising intellectual debate. She jumped in without thinking, and fell into a long rant about the Animal banns. She expected to be censored, criticized, but the other nodded in agreement.

After who knows how long, Fiyero leaned forward to tell her he'd be next door playing poker, and she waved him off. Some Quadling with a long ponytail passed her a drink with a broad smile. "Anyone tell you what a passionate speaker you are?"

"Is that a come on?"

He laughed. "Depends on your answer." Then he shook his head. "But seriously, you should be a spokesperson. Pretty girl like you."

She blushed hotly at that. No one ever called her pretty. No one except Fiyero, but he didn't count. The conversation continued for some time, as did the drinks, and after a while, she decided to see how the poker was progressing. Maybe she'd even play, though she wasn't entirely sure of the rules.

As she staggered, the room fell less stable than normal. She oriented herself toward Fiyero and fought the rocking floor to make it to him.

"Yero!" She plopped on his lap when she couldn't find a chair near him. His eyebrows shot up.

"Hi. Having fun?"

She rested her head on his shoulder, wondering when it started feeling so heavy. "This is the best place I've ever been to in my whole life."

His chuckle rumbled through her. "I'm glad you like it."

"Mmm." She shifted to get comfortable. From her new vantage point, she could see Mercus's drink, an enticing shade of amber. Amber, like Fiyero's eyes. She smiled, and downed the drink in a large gulp.

"Hey!" Mercus freed the glass. "Drink your boy's drinks. That's mine."

She grabbed Fiyero glass as well, emptying the contents.

"Whoa, slow down there, tiger," he cautioned. She should have been mad, but nothing could penetrate the warm fog that surrounded her. She giggled at his expression, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, appalled. Had that Galinda-esque sound really come from her?

Fiyero dissolved into laugher, and she glared at him, fuzzily. She pushed off him and stormed toward the stairs. Or rather staggered.