AN: Thank you all so much for the reviews and for taking the time to read my work. I really appreciate it.

Fiyero rubbed his aching eyes. The girl had been beautiful, just as Avaric had promised, but he couldn't help a twinge of guilt when he thought of how she'd hung all over him. How he'd let her. How much he'd had to drink, and where in Oz he might be waking up.

His bleary eyes peeked out at his own room, but the heavy weight of a girl on his arm told him all he needed to know of what must've happened last night. A knock resounded in his room like a cannon, or so it felt to his pounding head. He stumbled wearily to the door. "Uh?"

Elphaba cocked an eyebrow at him, his sheet wrapped loosely around his waist. "You're late." Her gaze flicked to the still-naked girl sprawled across his mattress. "Though I can guess why. Should I leave you to it, then?"

He felt a wave of nausea at the thought of running, but no way was he letting her smug attitude bleed into the entire weekend. "Give me five."

He shut the door and pulled on shorts and a loose T-shirt. He draped the sheet over the girl's still prone form and shook her shoulder gently. She didn't wake. The smell of toothpaste set his stomach on edge, but he trudged through. And with a final futile effort to wake his unexpected guest, he slipped out in the hopes that she'd be gone when he got back.

Elphaba looked up from her stretching as he came in the hall, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes. Between her smug look and his hangover, his mood was in no danger of lifting. "You look like you had fun last night."

"I did, okay?" His hostile tone took her by surprise, but her only response was a subtle lift to her eyebrow. "Alright, get it over with."

"What?"

"The lecture."

"No lecture." She started toward the stairs. "So who's your new friend?"

He glared at her, and then grimaced. For the life of him, he couldn't remember even the smallest part of her name. "No one important."

Elphaba set out at a faster pace than usual, no doubt to punish him for last night's revelries. He might have wanted to curl up in a ball and vomit until Lurlinemas, but he kept pace with enough outward ease to fool her. Or so he thought. "Need a break?" she tossed, but he shook his head.

"You?"

"Fine," her breath uneven. She sped up, and he sped up to match. Soon they were both panting and covered in sweat.

He caught her arm and dragged her to a stop. "Can we just stop this?"

"Stop what?" She wrenched her arm from his grip. But then she bent over, hands behind her head as she tried to catch her breath.

"I get the feeling you're upset with me."

"No-" she started, but when he gave her a skeptical look, she shrugged. "You don't even know her name? This is why you broke up with Galinda? For an endless string of bimbos that are so meaningful for you, you don't even bother to introduce yourself?"

"What's it to you what I do?"

"Nothing. Can we go back to training now, or should I just run on my own?"

He tugged a hand through his hair and waved for her to lead on. Why should she care? He'd always been a playboy. The spoiled scandalacious prince. Everyone knew that. How else was he supposed to act after a break-up?

She shook her head at him and broke into a sprint toward the courts. He chased after her, but it was several meters before he caught up.

He turned to her to defend himself, but something about her expression stung him, as if he couldn't possibly say anything to save himself. He fell into step without words, and the tense silence stretched between them as she finally stopped racing away.

After twenty minutes, his nausea started to pass as he sweated out the last of the previous night's alcohol. They reached the batting cages, and without argument, they each collected their half of the supplies. The silence had drawn a sort of truce between them.

She slipped in as he warmed up the machine, her fingers white where they gripped the bat. "Helmet," he reminded, and she quickly tugged it on. Something about her nerves sent a strum of affection through him, and as easily as they'd fought, he felt his annoyance with her pass. "You'll be fine."

"Yep." But she eyed the chute with apprehension.

"Show me a few practice swings." She'd progressed fairly well with his pitches, but a machine could be a different experience. She swung tensely, the arc tight and her shoulders rigid. "Relax."

She stretched again, moving her shoulders in circles, and nodded.

"Ready?" Another terse nod, and he fed a ball in.

She watched it shoot out and swung, clipping the edge enough to earn a foul ball. He fed another, and she hit it with more accuracy. After a few more, he switched it to an automatic setting and paused the throw. He walked over and held out a hand for helmet and bat. "Keep an eye on the timing. This is the same one that Bidsk always uses for us, so I'm sure you'll redo your practical with it."

She nodded and waited for him to get in position. He signaled her to start it, then focused his attention on the machine. The first couple were harder without a warm-up, but then he fell into his groove, knocking ball after ball into the safety net. He felt her eyes analyzing him, and he couldn't resist showing off, as usual. After a few dozen solid hits, he called for her to turn it off.

"All yours."

"How many does he expect me to hit?"

"Ten points for each ball out of thirty. Not too bad, actually."

"So if I can hit ten in a row-"

"Everyone would be very impressed, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. One-third is a pretty good average. I'm starting it." She fidgeted with the helmet and took a strong stance just as he'd taught her. The first few misses rattled her, but she got the sixth and seventh. He paused the machine.

"How're my elbows?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop over-analyzing. You're doing fine." He lifted the bat when he reached her, and she stepped out of his way. "Your swing is too fast, like you're anticipating instead of reacting." He demonstrated and showed her a more natural swing. "Keep your focus on the ball instead of your bat."

She took the bat back and stepped in place. "I thought I was low."

"A little." He adjusted her arms to a better height. "But the focus is still more important. Less mechanics, more intention. You gotta focus on the goal."

She snorted. "Not the person I'd imagine to lecture me on goals."

"Oh, shut up." He thumped her helmet and sauntered back to the pitching machine. She gave him a nod, and he switched it back on. She lost some of the tension and after about a dozen, she'd started to get the hang of it.

He traded with her again, this time for a break rather than a lecture. A pair of his teammates wandered past, calling out their greetings, and he fit a quick wave between swings.

Elphaba paused the machine, and he handed her the bat. He watched her start the round until, convinced she would be fine, he stepped out to talk to his friends.

"New girl already? I thought even you needed some time between," Tavon teased.

He winced at the mention of last night, but Elphaba's attention stayed on the steady stream of balls.

Aeric slapped a beefy hand on Fiyero's shoulder. "The one you had last night not a good enough lay or something?" The boy eyed Elphaba as her swing connected soundly with the pitch. "This one must be a firecracker."

"Shut up. You know we're training. Nothing like that."

"Yeah, how's that going?" Tavon asked in a friendly tone, but Fiyero couldn't stop watching Aeric watch Elphaba. He felt a sudden urge to punch his friend in the jaw.

"Good. I should get back."

"Let me know if she wants me to give her any pointers." Aeric flashed a wicked smirk that Fiyero knew too often from its place on his own face.

"Got it covered, thanks."

"Not quite the kind of pointers I meant."

Even Tavon rolled his eyes at his friend's crude joke. "Alright, lover boy. Time to bat." The pair took the cage next to theirs, and Aeric caught Elphaba's eye to wink at her.

She scowled and swung back just in time to knock the ball in another foul. Fiyero stopped the machine. "How'd you do?"

"About a quarter. I got five in a row."

"Good." She was making great progress. He would have to ask Bidsk if she could take this practical first. Maybe it would help to have one test behind her. Boost her confidence, and convince the coach that she deserved this second chance. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and unhooked her helmet. Her long hair tumbled out, and Aeric catcalled from the cage beside them. She studiously ignored him, hefting the bat over her shoulder as Fiyero collected the baseballs. "Leaving so soon, sweetheart?"

"I'll miss you, too, honey," he tossed back, and Tavon had to dodge the pitch, he was laughing so hard.

"Yeah, yeah. You're just trying to make me feel special so you can get in my pants." Aeric slapped his ass and mimed a tiger claw. Even Elphaba had to chuckle, though she quickly caught herself. "Well, don't try anything funny. My momma raised me right."

"Me, too. She raised me real good." Tavon shot back, waggling his eyebrows. Aeric slapped the pause button and burst across the cage to tackle his friend. "What? I'm a big fan of your momma. She's got such a big…heart." He shook with laughter, not even defending himself against the fake assault as Aeric caught him in a headlock.

"That's my momma, you prick." He rubbed the taller boy's head with his knuckles, ruffling the gelled look. "What're you, an animal?"

"Come on. They're just showing off." Fiyero took the bat, helmet and bucket of baseballs back to their places, and Elphaba fell in step beside him.

They walked back to her dorm, chatting pleasantly about her progress and his studies. She offered to proofread his history paper, which he begrudgingly admitted he hadn't done. "Why am I not surprised? Well you can use my book I suppose." She held open the door to Crage Hall. "Coming up?"

He hung back, tempted. "I should really shower."

"You'll have to rely on your own one of those."

"Later?" She nodded, though she avoided his eyes. They hadn't had much luck with delayed plans, no doubt due to his flaky memory.

"I should study anyway."

"Good work today." He nudged her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes as she did after every work out. She'd argued that she didn't need constant reassurance for a fragile ego like he did, but he knew she appreciated it even if she wouldn't admit it. "You'll be a jock before you know it."

"Perish the thought."

He took in her playful mood and reconsidered going upstairs, but she had already turned to go. "Later, Elphie."

"Don't call me that." But her words had no bite, and she didn't bother to turn back to say them.

"Whatever you say, Pookie."

He couldn't see the eyeroll, but he knew it was there. The door shut off any response, and he headed back toward his dorm.

The alcohol from his sweat seemed to coat his skin, and he looked forward to a long, hot shower. Maybe then he'd head back to Elphaba's room. She'd force him to write his paper, and he might last the week without a lecture. Or more likely he'd just take a nap.

Either way it was a great relief to find the room empty.