Title: Still Heartless: Immediate Transplant Recommended
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I won't steal it if you won't.
Summary: Nessa dies. OHSNAP! XD

Pyrotechnics

Boq had watched her struggling at first before gently tugging at the ropes that he had tied on earlier. The knots were twisted around the splintered wood and wound their way in between roughly a dozen bottle rockets and mortar cannons. As she struggled to light the single fuse the Munchkin had rigged up to make the fireworks display go a bit easier, Boq brushed a strand of sweat-stained hair away from her face. He was the only one in all of Munchkinland who dared get this close to her while she had the lighter in her fragile grip. Even now, as she tried to flick the apparatus on for what seemed like the hundredth time, the Munchkinlanders stayed behind the rope, tapping their feet impatiently and waiting for the show to begin.

"It's no use struggling," Nessarose pressed her lips together as she tried unsuccessfully to flick the lighter on again, accomplishing nothing more than scraping the edge of her thumb against the switch again. Thin trails of blood were beginning to pool on the surface of the digit before twining their ways down to the palm of her hand. "Even if you managed it, the wind would probably blow the flame out before you even got the chance to light the fuse at all. Face it. It's just too cold to play games like this, and you've kept us out here for no less than six hours already." Against the backdrop of the slowly brightening sunrise, Nessa raised her head towards Boq. His eyes darted to the left and she glared from the lighter to Boq before her gaze rested towards the lighter again, all the while flicking and flicking in vain, desperate to light the damn thing and prove him wrong. He winced as a shower of sparks erupted from the lighter and she fumbled out of shock, dropping the device on the cold, damp grass with a shriek.

"Oh for the love of Oz…" Boq fumed, snatching the lighter up off the ground and deftly illuminating the machine with one flick. The crowd roared. "And you wonder why nobody likes you."

"Frankly I doubt you even like me anymore." Nessarose Thropp quipped back, and Boq couldn't take his eyes off of the fuse as it snaked its way through the network of rockets, roman candles, mortars and Saturn missile launchers, with sparks racing up the tangled web in hot pursuit. He scrambled off to avoid getting caught in the inevitable blast lest something were to go horribly wrong.

Of course, however, the ground had become too damp with morning dew for Nessa to possibly have any means of wheeling herself to safety in time. She barely even moved for herself—how could she even be expected to get around during inclement outdoor conditions? As she uselessly propelled herself deeper into the muckish turf, Boq couldn't help but snicker at how, by some mysterious means, one of the ropes attached a few bottle rockets had managed to get themselves entwined around one of her wheels…

Sparks flew and cannons boomed as the sky illuminated with an iridescent display of lights and color. Nessa gripped her armrests in terror as she found herself hurtling through the Munchkinland town square at what felt like Mach 2, straight for the exhausted, almost bored crowd. The innocent bystanders realized what was going on and scattered as the runaway wheelchair sliced through the throng, knocking over several small children and little old ladies in the process.

Just as they were on the verge of detonation, the rockets sent the fugitive chair into a bench, launching its helpless pilot into the rose garden behind her own mansion mere seconds before they exploded. Splinters of wheelchair chassis, shards of metal, and stray pieces of crushed velvet were unceremoniously jettisoned into the chaotic whirlwind of panic that had erupted that New Year's morning.

"I'm so sorry, Boq." Nessa uttered the next day as she clung to his back, hanging on for support as he carried her piggyback through the town proper to clean up that horrible mess they'd made earlier.

"I'm sorry too, Nessa." Boq sighed. His insidious assassination plot had been thwarted once again. "Maybe next time..." he ambiguously muttered under his breath.