"Okay, try again. Eyes on the ball." Fiyero watched Elphaba draw a hand back, and lean into her shot. "Follow through." Her fist connected, and the ball sailed toward him. He passed it back. "Good. Ready to try overhand?"

"If I must."

He tossed the ball at her face. "Grouch."

"Me? I'm not the one who threw a ball at your face."

He grinned. "But wouldn't you like to?"

She ignored him to shake out her shoulders. It had been a long hour already, learning to pass and set. Her arms would be sore tomorrow to judge by the way she kept rubbing them. "Alright, coach. Lead on."

"Step back," he demonstrated as he lectured, "and lift up. Toss and draw, then step and swing." The ball smacked into the middle of the opposite end of the court. "It's not as difficult as it seems. Your coordination's gotten a lot better. Don't give me that face; you can do it."

She took the ball with lip curled in an impressively disgruntled frown. She pulled her right arm back, and flung the ball up. Her serve connected with the right edge of the ball, spinning it off toward the net.

"Toss straight. Relaxed and steady." She shot him a look, and he sighed, "Sorry, I forgot."

"Nope. Deal's a deal."

He passed her a new ball. "I said steady."

"You know what you said." He found a sudden interest in gathering the neglected balls on the other end of the court. "Fiyero," she warned, and he dumped the balls back in their pen.

"Can't I just do push-ups or something instead?"

She held up both hands. "Hey, I offered you an alternative."

"I'm not shaving my head."

She shrugged as if to indicate her inability to help him. He absorbed her predatory smile with affectionate reluctance. Part of him wondered if he'd slipped on purpose to cheer her up.

"Fine. But I still say 'relax' is a perfectly valid instruction." He let out a heavy breath, preparing himself, but he'd lost her attention. His gaze swung to follow hers.

"Sorry to interrupt." Galinda took a prim step forward. What was she doing here?

"No, go ahead." He retreated to his water bottle. "We could probably use a break, anyway."

It took him a moment to realize she was still looking at him. He closed the cap on his water, and she took another hesitant step toward him. "It's Elphie's birthday Friday."

"Galinda!" Elphaba grabbed her roommate's arm, but the blonde yanked free.

"I'm throwing her a party. Yes, I am, don't even start." Elphaba huffed. "Despite our history, I think it's important to her that you're there."

Said birthday girl covered her face with a groan. "Please, Oz, kill me now."

Galinda drew herself up to every inch of her goodliest, most martyr-worthy height. "So I'd like to invite you."

He swiped a hair through his hair. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there." Not that either girl wanted him there, it seemed.

Galinda nodded and gave him the details as he studiously avoided the look of betrayal Elphaba had aimed at him. "I'll let you get back to practice." She retreated, and Fiyero turned to his pupil.

"You want to keep going or quit for the day. We can finish up tomorrow if you'd rather."

"I doubt it," she moped. "Galinda will drag me all over Shiz to play dress up for this damned thing." She handed him the ball. "Honestly, you don't have to go. I'll probably sneak out myself."

"Yeah, right." He popped the ball up and spiked it toward the net. "And have Galinda drag you back by your toenails?"

"Ugh, why does she have to be like this?" She copied his motion, but hit too low. "It's my birthday. Can't I ignore it if I want to?"

He turned her forearm as she prepped for another try. "You really shouldn't, though. Higher, and snap the wrist."

But she'd stopped and turned to face him. "Why not? I hate parties. And people. And balloons. And basically everything involved."

He dropped his eyes. "It's your birthday. You should celebrate it with the people who care about you." She seemed taken aback. He set the ball for her, and she took the hint to try another spike. This hit the top edge of the net, but scraped past. "There's cake. You don't hate that."

"I guess." Her next spike skimmed over the net and smashed into the court with a satisfying thwack. "It better not be pink."

He laughed and jogged after the balls. "Not a strawberry fan?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and together they wrangled the balls back in the cage. He grabbed both their bags as she downed half her water bottle. She stowed it in the duffel and took it from him at the gym door. "For the record, you don't have to come."

"You don't want me to?"

She worried her shoulder strap. "No, I do. But you don't have to. If you don't want to deal with...everything. Galinda and all."

"You want me there, I'm there."

The corner of her mouth twitched at his firm, stolid answer, but still she added, "I know things aren't the greatest between you two. You don't have to feel obligated. Really." She punctuated his pardon with a heartbreakingly sincere expression, and he rolled his eyes. As if he'd miss her birthday.

"I'll see you at seven. And don't even try bailing, or I'll drag you back myself."

"This is hopeless."

"What is this?" Avaric held up a pair of lacy panties with a wolfish grin. "Think we can get a salesgirl over here to model them?"

Fiyero snatched the lingerie and threw it back on the pile. "Cut it out. You're supposed to be helping."

"I am. Aren't you trying to get in the Artichoke's underwear?" He grabbed another pair and made them dance for Fiyero.

He punched his friend in the shoulder. "Some respect. And I can't get her something like that. It'll freak her out worse than before."

"So get her nothing." Avaric abandoned the underwear to trail an attractive redhead past the robes. "Nothing says casual like nothing."

"Casual, Av. Not a jackass."

But he was already next to the girl with his most charming expression plastered on his face. "You should get it. That green brings out your eyes."

She turned to him in surprise. "Sorry, who are you?"

"Avaric," he extended a hand. He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe you could help us. You seem to have great taste." She smiled awkwardly at his praise. "My friend and I were trying to find a birthday present for his girlfriend."

"Not my girlfriend," Fiyero supplied.

Avaric continued as if uninterrupted, "Now, my friend here wanted to get her underwear."

"Nope. Didn't want underwear."

"I say that's too forward for their first month. What do you think?" He flashed a falsely sensitive smile, which Redhead took hook, line and sinker.

"Oh, definitely," she agreed with a sideways frown toward Fiyero.

With wide eyes, Avaric pretended to realize, "Hey, what about a sweater?"

Fiyero made a face. "What am I, her grandmother at Lurlinemas?"

His friend caught the sweater between his fingers. "This is really soft."

"It's high-thread count wool." Avaric leaned in with feigned interest. "I heard they only use sweet-tempered Sheep from Old Pastoria."

"Oh? Wow."

"Yep, that would definitely help impress the animal rights activist," Fiyero scoffed. He fingered a scarf. It was sinfully soft. Maybe if he didn't tell her…

"Oh, I know!" The others had degenerated into a whispered conversation that couldn't be more than two steps from a date. He settled in to wait it out. Cosmetics were out, as were perfumes or jewelry. All his fallback gifts.

Avaric wrapped things up and dismissed Redhead with a wink and a promise to call. She rounded the corner, and he dropped the sappy smile. "So, booze?"

"It's only three. What do I get Elphaba?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Get her a book or something."

Fiyero led them out of the clothing store. "Everybody's going to get her that. I want mine to be special."

Avaric's eyes rolled back in his head. "Make up your mind. Do you want casual or special?" He sidestepped a four-year-old with a teetering ice cream cone. "Or are you just trying to torture me? I bet it's not even her birthday."

"What about poppies? They're her favorite flower."

"Do you know her favorite tampon brand, too? Ew, don't tell me." He stopped to grab a couple cups of coffee to go from a vendor. "Besides, flowers are worse than underwear. Flowers say you want to be all romantic and emotional and," he mimed throwing up. "Underwear just says you want to get her naked."

"Neither one an option," Fiyero clarified in case his friend hadn't caught that already. He took a long drink of coffee. "So what does that leave?"

Avaric shrugged.

"What's thoughtful, but not personal? And not too expensive, or she'd refuse to accept it."

"Kitty."

Fiyero shot him a look. "A pet? That's the anti-casual."

"No, the brunette that hit me with the stapler when I called her Karen. Quick. In here."

"Do I want to ask when you called her Karen?" he asked resignedly, but he followed him into the candy shop. "Or rather, what you were doing?"

"Who I was doing?" Avaric smirked. "Yeah. Hey, I remember her name now, though. Maybe she'd go for round two…"

He started back toward the door, but Fiyero caught his elbow to haul him forward. "What about chocolates?" He nodded toward the large chocolate-drizzled strawberries lounging in the glass display case. "Those look great."

"I don't know. Women get weird about chocolate sometimes. One minute, you're their hero because they love it. Then they accuse you of trying to get them fat."

Knowing his friend, Avaric had probably called the girl in question a pig or something. He settled for, "Not Elphaba."

"Your funeral. Besides, aren't those supposed to be aphrodisiacs?"

"I don't think so." He thought about it. "Better not risk it."

Avaric checked for Kitty and led them back on the sidewalk. They walked past three more stores before he saw the perfect present in a crowded store window. He pointed it out to his friend. "That? What, is your whole country broke now?"

"It's the thought that counts, not the price."

"Oh, okay, Mom. Why don't you just make her some macaroni art and a friendship bracelet then?"

"Shut up. I'm getting it." The pair opened the shop door to the tinkling of a bell.

"Fine. But just to be safe, why don't you get a better, I mean, backup present. In case she doesn't like it." Not the worst of ideas.

"Like?"

"You know my vote."

"Book?" Fiyero asked with a dry tone.

"Or panties," Avaric grinned. "Better yet, all three. So you want her mind, body and pity."

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Cause I'm awesome."

AN: Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed my last chapter. I really appreciate that you didn't give up on me. I'm determined to stick to once-a-week chapters, so they might be closer to this length than the last. Thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you think.