Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: I disclaim Wicked, Mary Poppins and What Happens in Vegas! La-di-da-daaa~!

Author's Note: Okay, so I've decided to through in a little Mary Poppins for extra ridiculousness. Hope you enjoy. Please review, because I'm having an obscene amount of fun with this story--as each chapter goes by, I have more fun. D:

Enjoy my idiocy!

-Faba

I felt amazingly flustered . . . all alone, cooped up in our new room. Our. Ew, it sounded so . . . weird. It's just the thought that I was now married to the most annoying woman ever, and that, jeez, if I kissed someone else it would be cheating—it was honestly too much for my head. Seriously, if I wanted to still be a good person, would that mean I'd have to go forever without . . . doing it? It, preferably the verb. IT. Oz knew whether Elphaba would ever want to engage in the almighty It, even years from now!

Did this mean I was giving up enjoyable occurrences (namely It) for the rest of my life?

No, definitely shouldn't think like that. Pain. Glorious pain.

I decided to go sit on the bed, and forgot my troubles almost instantly, reveling in how cushy the mattress was. I wouldn't mind to sleep in it, but, ugh, it wasn't my bed apparently. My bed was the floor—the uncarpeted floor. . . .

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious! If you say it loud enough your wife will not come back-cious!

"SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS!" I bellowed.

* * * * *

Later on that lovely evening, Elphaba came back and found me lying comfortably on my floor. She made her way to the bed, stepping purposely all over the floor, and I said angrily, "Elphaba, don't make me tell you to get off of my floor."

She gave me the ugliest look ever—which was quite a feat, coming from something I couldn't have thought could get uglie—

No. Good person.

"Fiyero, you're acting like a child," Elphaba snapped.

"No, I just have to sleep on the floor—child, me? No way!"

"Maybe we can buy you a futon or something," Elphaba muttered. "But you're honestly not complaining because I'm not sharing the bed—?"

"No!" I gasped. "Don't flatter yourself!"

Elphaba rolled her eyes; a rather customary response to annoyance. "Take the duvet, then. It's summertime, so I'll only need the sheets." She threw it unceremoniously at me, and I caught the duvet from my place on the floor, and flattened it beneath myself. "Goodnight Fiyero," she said loudly.

"'Night, wife," I responded spitefully. I rolled over, and sighed loudly.

For a while, everything was quiet. Then, I decided I needed to point something out. "You know," I said, very convinced that she was still awake. "We already . . . you know, so it wouldn't really matter if we shared a bed, would it?"

"Fiyero, once again you express interest in wanting to share a bed with me," murmured Elphaba, sounding half-asleep. "I'm starting to wonder, really. . . ."

"Elphaba. THE. FLOOR. IS. NOT. COMFORTABLE."

"Still," she said awkwardly. I couldn't see her face, but I could guess that she was blushing.

"Come on, Elphaba," I groaned. "I'll sleep the opposite way you are. I'll put my feet by your head, and you can put your feet by mine. We can both be happy—please?"

"I guess you're no trouper, Fiyero," she said drowsily. "But I guess you could—until we bring in a couch or something—"

I hastily leaped onto the bed, and shoved the duvet between our bodies, separating us as best as I could. Then I stole an extra pillow, and laid my head on the opposite side of the bed.

Elphaba grunted, and said, once again, "Goodnight, Fiyero."

"Uh-huh," I said, sinking into the cushiony goodness. It was so comfy—utter heaven. Like a marshmallow. Like marshmallow pudding. Totally worth semi-sharing a bed with Elphaba.

I was slipping into sleep quickly. It was amazing how quickly I was falling into sleep with in this bed. Fantastic. I was honestly considering asking Elphaba if we could sleep like this everything night when—

Boom, boom, boom!

"The door," I said, irritated. It must have been midnight, but Elphaba sat up anyway, her hair in disarray, and went quietly to go get it.

"Who's there at this time of night?" I grumbled, and threw the covers over my head when the light flicked on.

"Elphie!" said a voice, sounding oh-so-familiar. "Elphaba what am I going to do. Oh—Fiyero?" I felt something poke my side and I sat up to look directly into a confused blonde's face.

"What in Oz's name?"

"The floor was uncomfortable," I said, emphasizing as many words as I could, which turned out to be four, because there were only four words in my sentence. I popped out from beneath the duvet dutifully, and stared at my ex-girlfriend. She didn't hold my eyes long.

Despite her curiously, Galinda didn't push the matter, but sat grumpily on the bed. She didn't even stop to revel at the cushiness—apparently, there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"My new roommate is a toad," she said clearly and stridently. "Honestly, I think she croaked at me." Galinda turned to Elphaba (who was in her modest nightdress, while the blonde had on something rather revealing) and her lip started to tremble. "I hate her, Elphie, I really do. She has less fashion sense than you do . . . which is plainly unbelievable!"

Elphaba and I shared a knowing look; Galinda tended to over-judge people and, believable or not, looked for the worst in everyone half the time. Fate dealt her dealing hands with this one, though, seeing as she provided my ex-girlfriend with another roommate she wasn't . . . happy with.

"Galinda, I—" Elphaba started.

"Don't start, Elphie," Galinda said, sniffing. "I know; you've just shared a look with your new hubby: 'Galinda's gone nutty, hasn't she, dearest?' Don't treat me like that, Elphaba Thropp. Don't treat me like you think I'm over-exaggerating. This girl is the essence of insane."

Elphaba nodded quite slowly, obviously (in my eyes) trying to think of something really good to say in a situation such as this one. She even shot me a fleeting look, begging for help, but I truthfully had none to provide.

"Um, Galinda," Elphaba started again, and Galinda let her this time. "You know how when we first met you judged me a little too quickly? Well, frankly, now you're bugging me about another girl that you think is a little odd before you even really know her, just like you did with me. Don't you think that's a little, uh, ironic, for lack of a better word?"

Galinda glared evilly at Elphaba for a moment, then got off of the bed in a huff, walked out of the door, and slammed it with as much force as she could muster. Elphaba and I exchanged another look before the green girl cleared her throat. "So."

"We're back to that?" I questioned grumpily.

"Goodnight, Fiyero," she sighed, for the . . . third time that night?

I laid back onto the bed and said, "Elphaba, I assure you I am not enjoying sharing a bed with you."

"That makes two of us," she laughed, climbing back onto her end of the bed.

"What really irritates me," I grumbled next, "Is that I have to assure you that I don't enjoy it."

Elphaba didn't say anything else, and soon later I fell asleep, dreaming happily of marshmallows, as I would remember later on in the morning that would come.