Disclaimer: Must…not…type…lyrics…to…"If…You…Were…Gay…"

Both: I thought I knew what love was!

Clara: I didn't know that love was a complication!

Giorgio: I do know that it's not a negotiation…

(from Sondheim's Passion)

The talk with Tibbett had been enlightening- enjoyable, even, at some points. Pfannee wished she could say she wasn't so surprised, but she was. In fact, in all honesty, she thought that he was more charming than most "straight" boys she knew. Perhaps it was the fact that he actually held eye contact with her while having a conversation, instead of- er- chest contact? But no, it was more than that. He really was just- just nice, without her having to look physically pretty for him, as was the case with most of her friends.

Former friends, Pfannee corrected herself vehemently, that was the case with her former friends. They were also the reason why she was in such a hurry that morning. As in-depth as her chat with Tibbett got the previous ending, the less Pfannee had wanted to leave. They even, at one point, had gotten to discussing that Peter Winters fellow whom Crope was so vexed about.

"It's kind of a sore point with him," he had explained. "Crope actually had been teasing me for awhile about how cute he thought Peter was, back when he was still in the closet." (Here Tibbett had paused to respond to her query as to why anyone would have a crush on someone who lollygagged in a closet in his spare time) "But then he came out to me, and- well, he was really upset, and more than anything confusified, I mean, it's not like you outright just know if your gay- I mean, a part of you does, I guess, but-" he seemed flummoxed for a moment as to how to proceed, but then just shrugged. "Anyway, he was confused, and- I'm not gonna lie, Pfan, the guy was cute, with like these saucer blue eyes that you could just drown in- but I seriously, seriously, he was so upset, and he said he'd tried really hard to figure it out but he didn't think there was any other way, so-" he faltered.

"I um…sortofdidn'tstophimrightaway when he started kissingme."

Pfannee blinked.

"Seriously, it was a total accident!" Tibbett insisted. "He just kind of grabbed me, and I swear it didn't mean anything, he just smooth-talked me into it- and then Crope walked in on us and it was just horrible, we've been fighting about it for weeks- even though Peter totally turned out to be straight, I swear it's so embarrassing! Honestly, I tried to pull away, I did but-"

"Tibbett," Pfannee interrupted, placing a hand on his. He visibly tensed. "Do you remember those post-Lurlinemas party rumors that went around before New Years?"

"Um," he replied uncomfortably.

"They weren't all rumors," she said calmly. "And, pardon me, but this is hardly the situation for judgment anyway, right?"

Tibbett relaxed. "Right," he said cheerily. Then his face got more serious, and he leaned in slightly. "So…that thing with the lampshade and the Fliaan exchange student? Was that 'not only a rumor', too? Because I heard there was this thing with eggnog and-"

Yes, her chat with Tibbett had been quite pleasurable, so much so that she hadn't wanted to leave, consequently making her sleep in once she finally did go to bed. Meaning, instead of rising at dawn in order to cover up any evidence of something amiss between her and her roommates, Miss Pfannee now had to contend with the fact that at any moment someone could stroll past on their way to Saturday brunch to find her sheets, blankets, robe, and what was left of her pillows strewn across the common room in various states of disarray.

Surely enough, just as Pfannee managed to kick a ruined pillowcase under the futon (well, it wasn't as if the night janitor actually cleaned about the place) her ears pricked up at a nasally laughing echoing down the corridor.

A familiar, nasally voice.

"Oh, my," Shenshen giggled, turning the corner with Miss Milla at her side. The latter's piercing blue eyes ran over Pfannee- still dressed in her tight-fitted nightie- with a look of snide satisfaction while the former commented, "Don't you look cozy."

Pfannee was ready for her. "How's Gigi, Shen?" she asked in a voice of venom-coated honey.

Strange- the shocked look of horror and fear that widened across Shenshen's face ought to be utterly satisfying- she had her, she had her and they both knew it. The girl's eyeballs were practically goggling out of her head with panic, and yet- Pfannee felt no pleasure. It occurred to her just then that she was trying to win at Shenshen's game- a game which, maybe, just maybe, was now petty for her to play?

But Oz, the little hag looked like she was about to shrivel up and die on the spot! How was she not enjoying this?! Ethics, Pfannee realized, were odd things indeed.

"W-what makes that your business?" Shenshen stammered defensively, now somewhat collected. "Filthy little thing, why should I even speak to you? AFTER YOU PRACTICALLY VIOLATED ME LAST WEEK!" She pointed a polished finger accusingly, as though Mila were a police officer asking her to identify her attacker. "How dare you even look at me, how can you stand there, bold as brass, how-?"

"-can you project your voice so far that the entire boy's dormitory wakes up at ten a.m.?" a deeply masculine voice cut in. All three girls turned to see Fiyero leaning against the opposite threshold, his hair sleepily drooped over one eye and a cranky set in his jaw. "Not all of us went to bed at a decent hour, you know."

Shenshen flushed, but apparently chose dignity over daintiness, for a moment later she insisted furiously, "I did not just wake up the whole of the male side of campus, Master Tiggular!!!"

Fiyero nodded sagely. "Right," he agreed, moving so that he no longer blocked their view of the archway, revealing- sweet Oz- the corridor of the Y-chromosomed dormitory filled with boys sporting quizzically looks on their faces, in varying states of undress.

"You are right, my dear Miss Shenshen." Fiyero said again, smiling crookedly, "You didn't 'just' wake up the entire male side of campus; looks as though you've gotten a good portion of the females, as well, if you'll look behind you."

Pfannee turned; it wasn't nearly as much as the boys (the other girls were far more used to Shen's dramatics, she supposed) but a few gangly-looking freshers and stuck their heads out of their doors, wearing perplexed expressions. Not only that but- unless Pfannee's sleep deprived eyes were deceiving her- Miss Galinda was also hurrying towards them, a mask of lividness plastered over her perfect face.

"Shenshen!" she shouted (much more people from both sides emerged at this point, a few even tentatively following the blonde inside the main room to see what the ruckus was about) "Honestly, are you still harping on this? This incident that happened, what, a week ago?! Hardly worth talking about at all and you've extended it past its due date. Really, if that's all you've got to gossip about, you're clearly losing your touch."

There were several "oohs" from the gathering crowd, some people going so far as to push for a better look at the potential drama unfolding.

"I'm losing my touch?" Shenshen cackled. She gave her tawny curls a "thoughtful" toss. "Because you know, I don't recall that I was the one looking like I was having a seizure at the Ozdust, standing beside that walking pickle!"

Pfannee doubted a soul in Shiz was still in bed now; she peered about anxiously as the two socialites slowly encroached on each other- out of the corner of her eye she saw that Milla looked equally at a loss of what to do, sharing at her two "leaders" with an almost terrified look on her face.

Galinda took another step forward. "Well maybe I like Pickles," she said challengingly.

"Dill's particularly good," the ever-so-helpful Fiyero chimed in casually. Just behind him Pfannee could just make out Tibbett's profile as he tried to weave his way frantically through the crowd whilst everyone else was staring at the Winkie Prince with either shock or annoyance. She somehow managed to catch his- Tibbett's-eye, and he stopped moving, watching her with intent concern.

Shenshen rolled her emerald pupils. "Please," she said scathingly. "I swear, associating with trash from the gutter like that! What are you thinking, Galindy?!"

The two girls were nearly brushing noses, eyes blazing into each other in fury (by this time, Pfannee could just make out the sound of Avaric asking for wagers behind the thudding heartbeat in her ears).

"I'm thinking," Galinda replied coolly, "That for all your bloodlines, wealth, highly-convincing designer knockoffs- not to mention your superly swankified attitude- the only trash I see here is you."

The icy banter shattered into all out warfare; Shenshen made a grab at Galinda, who stumbled but then ducked under the other girl's elbow and dug her perfect manicure into her arm, pulling her towards her. The other students began shouting various catcalls as the girls started yanking at each other's hair, tarring their skirts. Both Pfannee and Milla tried to wretch them apart, but when the latter tried she was merely knocked off balance by the fray and was sent reeling into the crowd, Fiyero only just managing to catch her before she fell backwards to the floor. Pfannee, on the other hand, just managed to wedge her way in between the two before Galinda shoved her backwards on top of Shenshen-

-and her lips.

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