Author's Note: Yes, I know that things are a bit slow now, and I figure that's probably why I didn't get many reviews on the last chapter. But it will get better; I assure you that. And the next chapter, with any luck, will be much longer and more exciting with this. So, please, I beg of you, bear with me.

And thank you for all the lovely reviews. Especially ones that tell me to update soon; because they make me want to update soon. :)

And, oh my, I am updating rather fast, aren't I? xD If that happens to bug you, then sorry.

-Faba


Miss Elphaba Thropp didn't exactly know how to react at the prospect of their dear Dr. Dillamond leaving. She hadn't quite gotten to know the Goat, but he had seemed very nice, and she smiled at him when he left the room for the last time. It did seem odd that he was the only Animal in the school and that he had been fired, but Elphaba really had no reason to protest.

She really wished she had gotten to know the old Goat, whom had seemed so nice, but had also been openly mocked by everyone. For instance, on the day that someone had sabotaged his blackboard, writing, "ANIMALS SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD" in bright, striking red letters. Elphaba had a suspicion that it was Galinda and her posse, but hadn't voiced the thought, because she had no feasible proof, other than the fact of the girls' bad marks—which was hardly proof at all.

The new teacher had an incredibly monotone voice that barely rasped past the third row. His name was Dr. Nikidik, and he was loathed throughout the campus. When he had first come to the school to replace Dr. Dillamond, Elphaba had had to move to the front row just to hear him. Elphaba herself didn't like him very much, mostly for this aspect alone, and repeatedly asked him to talk louder, to no avail.

One afternoon, when the teacher's back was turned, Elphaba saw a small piece of paper, in her peripheral vision, fly onto her table. She was reluctant to stop her note-taking, but curiosity won over and she looked at what was written.

So are you coming to the party, Veggie? Or am I going to have to keep persuading you?

Elphaba scowled quietly, and scribbled her own response back next to his bulky handwriting. Her orderly, graceful script looked almost comical compared to his, and, without looking behind her back, she flipped the paper over her shoulder.

I have not decided, it read simply.

There was a grunt of laughter behind her, and the paper was launched at her head.

Come off it. We both perfectly well know that you're going to say yes; you can't stand me.

You're quite right; I can't stand you.

That's a yes, my lovely, green Pickle?

If you'd stop associating me with vegetables, there's a good chance.

Alright, then, Miss Kiwi.

Elphaba shook her head in disgust and crumpled up the parchment in her long fingers. Then, with a scoot backward in her chair, she managed to squash Avaric's rather large foot beneath the chair's leg. Then she started talking notes again, grinning with satisfaction at his yelp of pain.

* * * * *

When three came around, Elphaba was at the courtyard like she promised she would. She wasn't entirely pleased with herself, but she was there and perfectly ready to argue and fuss with the idiot she was waiting for. Avaric was about ten minutes late, which was less that she'd been expecting from him. He was waving goodbye to the red-head Elphaba had seen him with the day before when he walked up.

"Done with blondes, eh?" she commented, rather dryly.

"Still green, eh?" he retorted, and slumped onto the bench a good six inches from her. "So, what is your answer? Are you going to continue being stubborn?"

"I don't know," Elphaba said, sighing dramatically, "I've been so preoccupied with thinking about poor Dr. Dillamond, that I haven't thought much of it."

"The Goat? You're joking."

"No, actually I'm not."

"I find that rather amazing." Avaric picked a leaf off of the nearby bush and began ripping it up into peices.

"And I think you're quite the opposite."

"Ouch, harsh." Avaric dropped the leaf fragments.

Elphaba laughed. "Harsh is my specialty, you imbecile."

"Well flattery is my specialty; and you're looking rather green today, my dear."

"You call that flattery?" she scoffed. "An apple tree could flatter me better."

"I'm sure it could; an apple falls off, and you eat it."

"Stalling, Master Avaric?" she accused mockingly.

"No, I'm just leading up the finale, which is the climatic ending whereas I ask you to the party again—but before then I must flatter you with talk of your verdigris." He grinned cockily, and Elphaba was finding it oddly hard trying not to smile.

"Oh, please," she said, "stop flattering me and you'll have more of a chance of getting me to the party."

"So I am flattering you, then? I knew it."

"Why so eager to flatter?"

"Why so eager to dampen the flattery?" he shot back, looking amused.

"Flattery is a dim-witted aspect of life, Avaric," she said simply, "for dim-witted people who say dim-witted things to land themselves a dim-witted soul mate."

"And I suppose the point of this is to say that you yourself are not dim-witted, correct?"

"Precisely, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But you must also be aware that it would be dim-witted to miss out on my celebration—especially since I want you there so badly." He looked surprisingly thoughtful, and Elphaba stared at him. "What would be the point? I mean, aren't you curious as to why I want you there?" With him leaning uncomfortably close her, Elphaba couldn't help but scoot a little over on the bench.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Master Avaric, or, more appropriately, the misfit, green kiwi."

"But a green kiwi wouldn't be misfit, Miss Elphaba. You forget that a kiwi is always green; it would be more appropriate to call you something like a misfit, green potato."

"I'm rather quite enjoying the flattery, Master Avaric; keep it up, would you?"

Avaric shrugged. "I do vaguely remember you telling me to stop flattering."

"I didn't mean you had to resort to wounding me so," she said.

"You're wounded, Miss Elphaba, by my words?"

Elphaba ran her tongue over her teeth quickly, and said, "I've never been a true follower of 'Sticks and Stones'. Words do tend to hurt from time to time."

"Then I sincerely apologize, my dear."

"I'm glad you do. Sincerely, I mean."

"Then maybe you could return the favor by sincerely saying you'll attend?" He looked hopeful now, much to Miss Elphaba Thropp's dismay and frustration.

"But I would have to do something horrible to you in favor, as you've just returned the sincerity in my favor for insulting me. I owe you nothing at this point." She smirked evilly.

"Oh, well what would you do to me, Miss Elphaba?"

"I'd probably take the opportunity to stuff your pillowcase with pudding."

He nodded slowly. "That's all, you're sure?"

She nodded back. "That would be enough, unless of course I have a horrible time, in which case I would have to do something else to you."

"Well then," he said merrily, "case closed."

Elphaba blinked. "What?"

"I will see you at eight O'clock sharp," he responded. "And not a second too late—and tonight I'll be expecting a pudding-filled pillow!" Avaric left once more, leaving Elphaba dumbfounded.

"Alright, then," she said angrily, "you want me at your wonderful party then I'll go." She pulled herself together and walked out of the courtyard, wondering whether she'd really go through with the whole party nonsense.

A few minutes later, she decided that she might as well, because she'd already finished her schoolwork.