She'd been mouthing off all evening. He'd done his best to entertain her, to do what he thought she'd want him to do, to make everything go well, but she just wasn't going to let it. Fiyero tried so hard to get her to have a good time, but all she could do was make a smarmy remark and act as if she hated everything. Elphaba wasn't very appreciative about anything he'd done, and he was a bit aggravated.
Elphaba had told him right of the bat that she was not going to dance. If Madame Morrible was going to force her to go to some silly ball, Elphaba would sit on the side and watch. Fiyero understood that and agreed with her. He didn't care at all if they danced or not. Dancing was nothing, anyway, and was made into too big a deal by too many people. They both knew that. So neither of them expected an argument or to be on the dance floor. On both counts, they were quite wrong.
Madame Morrible stopped by their table when Elphaba was on her second glass of punch (that she'd insisted on getting for herself while sticking her tongue out at Fiyero because he'd laughed watching her be the only girl at the refreshments table). Fiyero and Elphaba hadn't been speaking too much, but the noise of the band playing had made it difficult anyway, and there wasn't much of a motive to try unless one's goal was to shout oneself hoarse. The elder woman paused when she saw them and smiled thinly. "Miss Elphaba."
"Oh, Madame Morrible!" Elphaba sat up a bit straighter in her chair. "Good evening."
Fiyero could hear that her voice was laden with thick sarcasm and her body language told him quite blatantly that she meant nothing she said. He struggled to keep himself from grinning.
Madame Morrible peered down her nose at the couple. "Why aren't you dancing? You can't tell me you haven't danced at all tonight?"
"We haven't." Fiyero shrugged.
"We did." Elphaba lied at the same time.
Fiyero met her eyes and Elphaba glared at him. "I mean, yeah, uh…"
Madame Morrible was not convinced. "Well, I should think you'd get out onto the floor for at least one dance, Miss Elphaba, as it would only be respectful." The old woman waved at the middle of the room where over half of the couples were dancing slowly to some ballad the band was playing.
Elphaba clenched her teeth. "I guess we will, then."
Fiyero stood up, first, offering Elphaba his hand. He shouldn't have been surprised nor offended when she didn't take it. She strode across the room and simply expected him to follow her, and he did. Uneasily, they stood there for a moment, Elphaba suddenly not in charge for lack of knowledge and Fiyero scared out of his mind that if he touched her, she'd kill him in some unpleasant way. "So," he said.
"Are we going to dance or not?" She demanded. "I should hope we are, because I don't feel like getting a lecture from Morrible on not being respectful," she spat.
"Right." He nodded, and hesitantly placed a hand on her waist, bringing her in close to him. When he didn't get his head bitten off, he put his other hand on the opposite side of her waist and felt her place her hands on his shoulders. It was oddly comforting, if only for the time being. They stepped back and forth very slowly, and couldn't manage to look at each other.
Elphaba sighed. So much for the evening not being awkward. But the soft rhythm of the dancing and the music was calming and she found herself relaxing slightly against Fiyero's chest. The peacefulness she encountered as she did so astonished her, but she did not wish it away. Instead, she smiled a little. She didn't notice when the next song began, and the song after that.
A little smugly – for he was proud that he'd seen that she was finally having a good time – he asked quietly, "Not as terrible as you thought it would be, is it?"
She blinked. No. He could not have caught her with her guard down at all. Elphaba raised her eyebrows and looked up at him (though only a small bit, they were somewhat close in height). "I never thought it would be any specific amount of terrible, that way it would always be at least as bad as I thought," she replied haughtily.
She could not really have had the nerve to say that. Even now she couldn't admit she was having fun with him, that he'd helped make the night a little better? He dropped his hands from her waist and stared at her coldly. Elphaba swallowed hard and watched his face, confused, letting down her grip of his shoulders. "No. How could you possibly have a good time when you claimed you wouldn't, no matter how much I tried?" Shaking his head, he turned away and headed out of the auditorium.
Fiyero could barely remember which way they'd come in, and all of the halls were lit the same. He'd never had a class in this building. With his luck and awful sense of direction, he went the wrong way and found himself in a deserted hallway with no idea how to get out or even back to the auditorium. "Great."
There was a rustle behind him as Elphaba rushed after him down the hallway. "Fiyero, what the hell was that for?" She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, angry, perhaps the tiniest bit hurt, and fierce.
He whirled on her, sick and tired of always having to be on the defense, always having to try so hard to be kind just for the sake of not getting her angry. "You honestly think you haven't been incredibly rude tonight? You really think you didn't deserve to be walked out on like that?"
"I…" Elphaba struggled for her words. "I haven't said anything mean to you, Fiyero. I didn't mean to insult you on purpose, whatever I did. You're probably taking this all the wrong way, that's all. But, yes, I really think I didn't deserve that. If I wasn't so used to humiliation, that would've been pretty damn embarrassing. But no one was surprised you left me, they were surprised we were on the dance floor to begin with and that someone had escorted me to this thing."
"And I shouldn't have," he snapped. "I did the best I could tonight to make you go back on your word, to make it so you would have a good time, and you're not even grateful for it. All you can say is how much you hate it. Not a 'thank you' or anything."
"It's that painful for you that I should be grateful that someone stooped so low as to be here with me?" She hissed.
"No way." Fiyero pushed her out of the way and headed back down the hall. "I am not letting you turn my words around so it looks like you're the victim. That's low, Elphaba, that's lower than I thought you had the dignity to go." He stomped away and meandered the halls until he found his way, finally outside.
Elphaba was already there. Shivering a little (she'd left her sweater inside as she'd gone after him), she hugged herself and said softly as he stepped outside, "Get lost?"
Through his teeth he said, "No. I just wanted to avoid you. It seems like I can't."
She didn't know why she'd bothered to go after him the first time, or why she was doing it again. Maybe it was just because she knew that this big of an argument would make it much more difficult for them to work well on the project. But it wasn't just that. "No, you can't. Fiyero," she approached him, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He said, not certain if he was ready to accept that.
"For turning your words around, for being so unappreciative tonight and only turning down anything you said that might have made it look like I was having fun. I am sorry. I just…" She looked at her feet. "I don't like to be wrong. I swore I'd have a bad time tonight, and admitting that, thanks to you, I was having a decent time, is hard."
"You really had a good time?"
She smiled. "Well, maybe not good, but not bad." When he frowned, she elaborated quickly, "I was kidding. I did have a good time, up until just now. I'm really glad you offered to escort me, and I know it wasn't on your list of things to do on a Saturday night, but it was really nice of you to."
"You really think I didn't want to?"
"Did you?" She asked, genuinely surprised.
"I like being around you, Elphaba, though I don't like formal occasions so much-"
"Neither do I!" She cut in.
"It wasn't as if it was the worst thing in the world. I wanted to escort you. I wanted to ask from the moment you brought it up."
Now Elphaba was uncomfortable. "Why?"
"Well," he conceded, "part of it was curiosity. I had to wonder what you'd look like all dressed up and enchanting. And I knew I'd like to go with you more than Boq would, as he'd only go for the sake of possibly dancing with Miss Glinda, and I'd go just to see what it was like and to spend time with you, even if not in the best of places and not in the best of situations."
On the word "enchanting", Elphaba had backed up a step. "Why would you want to spend more time with me? It's not as if we had much of an opportunity to talk."
Fiyero knew she was getting uneasy and thought he may be behaving too forward. But he didn't know how else to explain everything to her, or to himself. He hadn't really realized half of the things he'd just said until the moment they'd spilled from his mouth and danced off his tongue to hang in the air and spread tension thick. "Elphaba, I don't know what I can say to that without sounding ridiculous," he confessed.
She gazed into his eyes and got trapped somewhere in the dark and the depth of the color and emotion open and revealed within them. "Okay. I think I can understand that." She moved to take a step back towards him, a little less disconcerted, and tripped over her dress, barely catching herself. "Damn, I hate this thing!" She muttered, yanking at the hem. "This is the last time I listen to Glinda tell me how to dress up properly."
"You do look nice, Elphaba," Fiyero ventured, "but you look more than nice. I don't think I should continue; I might get slapped," he bit his lip.
"No," Elphaba insisted, having regained her balance and then taking the step she'd meant to, "tell me, please." She wasn't sure if she desperately wanted a reason to slap him, anyway, or if she wanted to know what he thought.
"Only if you promise not to slap me for it or huff at me and tell me I'm a liar."
"Okay." She wanted his opinion. It's not like she'd be affected by it or anything.
"You look amazing. Beautiful." He told her, face reddening and body braced for attack, for her to pounce.
She did pounce, but not to hurt him. Instead, she kissed him.
Fiyero couldn't comprehend what was happening, but his body reacted and he pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist, wanting to bury the other hand in her hair, but she pulled away before he got a chance. "Elphaba?"
"I didn't mean that!" She mumbled. "I don't… I tripped… I leaned in too far… I just wanted to…" Her eyes were wide and darting around desperately. "I have to go."
He blinked and then she was running – already halfway back to Crage – holding her skirt up in case she tripped. She didn't turn around or acknowledge that she'd left him standing, alone, in the faded light of the building. Fiyero stood there, watching her as she fled, part of him wanting to flee, too, and part of him unable to move.
Glinda came out of the door, then, with Boq, covering her mouth with her hand. Fiyero could tell by the look on her face that she was in no way ill, but she wanted badly to end the night early and escape the babbling blundering boy. She was saying, muffled, "Thank you. I'm so sorry I spoiled the night…"
"Don't worry," Boq said, "if you're not feeling well, you should lie down."
Fiyero stopped them then, "Hey."
"Where's Elphie?" Glinda asked automatically.
"She went back to the dorms."
"Is she feeling ill, too?" Boq inquired. "Maybe they've both gotten something!"
"She's… sure… she's not feeling great."
Glinda saw through this but said nothing. "All right. Well, I'd better get back."
"Boq, save yourself the walk," Fiyero said on whim, "I'll take her. I need to go talk to Elphaba anyway. Let me just get her sweater, she left it inside." Fiyero rushed into the building, stumbled around to find the auditorium, found the table and grabbed Elphaba's small sweater – it was brown. It seemed so thin and hardly enough to have warmed her much. He leaped outside and put a hand on Glinda's shoulder so Boq would feel right enough to head back to his own dorm. "Let's go."
Boq disappeared into the other direction and Fiyero removed his hand from Glinda's shoulder quickly. Glinda looked at him appreciatively and said, "Thank you for saving my life. What's really wrong with Elphie?"
"I don't know, actually, that's why I'm using the excuse of bringing her the sweater as a reason to talk to her."
"You like her, don't you?" Glinda said suddenly.
"Well, I… she's all right."
Glinda giggled. "Did she just walk out on you without saying goodbye and leave you outside in the cold, you poor thing?"
"No. She said she was going. But you know her, she didn't explain why, exactly."
"She never explains anything," Glinda's voice was high and close to a whine. "She's got quite an interesting explanation for you, I'm sure. Leaving you there."
Fiyero murmured thoughtfully, "Yes, quite interesting, indeed."