Disclaimer: Don't own Wicked or any other article of pop culture referenced here (cough, Lion King, cough, they totally have intercoms in Oz, cough) I also feel the need to remind you that this story is rated T for a REASON, given certain content…
Once Fiyero had run out of swear words (this took quite awhile) and his head grew too sore from banging against the wall, he slumped to the floor and did the only thing he could to keep himself occupied:
Think.
Oh, yes. He had officially hit rock bottom.
What was her issue, anyway? Fiyero wondered. So what if she hadn't kissed anybody before? Did she really think he cared?! Oz! With lips like those?! Pretty sure she'd prove a quick study…
Green lips…now that's an interesting fetish.
Okay. It was thoughts like that that made him strive to be brainless.
Still, he could not stop replaying the whole affair- no, not affair, he corrected himself, he had wanted an affair- he couldn't stop playing the ordeal over in his head.
He was such an idiot. Did he think pulling her into a closet for a quick tryst would be enough to satisfy him? It was obvious to anyone with a chipmunk's mentality- no, even a blonde little Galinda sized, be-mine-forever-Fifi-I-luuuuuuuuuurve-you mentality- that Elphie wasn't like the other girls he had been with. For one thing, she still had her dress buttons fastened upon entering the closet.
For another, Elphaba was… special. She called him on his crap, talked to him as an actual person, not just as the Washboard Abs of the West.
Okay. Not only am I thinking, but my thoughts are starting to sound like an extremely whiney love declaration in some cheap dime novel. Clearly, I have to get out of this closet, because my non-existent brain is being denied oxygen and is slowly turning to mush.
Before he had time to further ponder this medical crisis, however, the sound of a door opening started him to attention; no one was supposed to be in here for another three hours, he knew it. This was Dillamond's free period, he had made sure of it before he picked out this room to serve his purposes.
He hadn't exactly wanted the two of them to be disturbed any time soon.
Almost as though his dirty mind had summoned her, Madame Morrible's echoed forth from the outside room, the sound of people filing in accompanying her voice. "We are most sorry for this inconvenience," she boomed over the general din. "We have been forced to close Gathea Hall due to a very immature, highly pungent prank played by two equally immature and- if I may say so- pungent compan- troublemakers."
Fiyero could tell from the way she hesitated at the word "companions" that the troublemakers in question were Tibbett and Crope. Consequently, he grinned.
"Fortunately, only two classes in that wing have examinations this period, and the professor who uses this room has kindly volunteered it for our purposes."
Fiyero's grin quickly faded, for he knew this was a lie; he'd been all but stalking Dillamond since five that morning, waiting for an opportunity to steal his key without his noticing. Once Fiyero had finally managed the task, he had overheard the Goat telling a colleague he was going to treat himself to a large breakfast over at the café; he wouldn't have been back early enough to hear about the apparent stink bomb.
Sometimes he really had to wonder if Elphaba was being as paranoid as other people thought she was when it came to Animal Rights.
Oh, Elphaba…
Fiyero shook his head; he had more important (well, at that moment, anyway) things to dwell on. Such as the fact that it would be a rather awkward situation if Morrible were to discover him locked in a school closet with no plausible explanation. On the other hand, it would be an equally awkward- if not more so- for him to remain undiscovered, and thereby starve to death and/or continue to slip into oxygen-deprived Pervertland.
It was quite the predicament, really.
Still debating his options, he peered through the keyhole. Morrible was standing at the center of the room, two other adults- he guessed they were the professors of the refugee classes- and looked as though she was about her mouth to speak again when the intercom crackled.
"Helloooooooooooooooooo Shiz!" a familiar voice rang out. "These are your morning announcements!"
"Not Morrible's usual denouncements!" another voice, this one somewhat deeper, chimed.
"Quite right, Tibs!
We have the preps with the gossip
If you still have a poncho, toss it
I'm afraid they've gone quite out of fashion
(Though if you've got taffeta you're simply smashin'!)
As for those hunky jocks, I'd love to join your sport-"
"Now, now, Cropey lets keep it PG for this report!"
Morrible's eyes, Fiyero could tell even from the closet, had narrowed into slits. She quickly jetted out of the classroom as the two continued with their banter.
"Oh darling, yes of course!
(And anyway, have you seen the football team?
Urgh, teeth just like a Horse!)
Well I think that's all we have today
If you have any questions, please let me say,
Just ask a geek, for they know all-"
"But how they gain that knowledge, I can't quite recall."
There was a high-pitch squeal issued over the speaker.
"Oh, Tibby, you're so sexy when you rhyme things!"
"Why thank you dearie, I try. By the by, do you happen to know what your name rhymes with?"
"No, darling, do tell!"
"Well, I'll give you a hint- it starts with a G-"
"GET OFF THE SPEAKER YOU LITTLE-" Morrible's voice suddenly roared.
"Oppsie!"
"Tootles, my little Shizles-!"
The line went dead. The laughter of the others was so loud that Fiyero didn't bother to contain his own- he doubted he would be able to even if that wasn't the case.
"All right, people, settle," one of the professors reprimanded, but it was no use. The place was in an uproar; Yero didn't see a single student not laughing.
And then he did- slumped in his chair, sitting at the desk closest to the closet. How had he not seen him before?! If he could just get his attention- he could find the key and slip it under the door-
"Boq!" Fiyero hissed, speaking at his normal volume to be heard over the giggling but still remaining discreet.
The munchkin started; relieved he had been heard, Fiyero continued:
"Listen, Boq, I need you to-"
"No!" Boq snapped wildly, craning his neck in both directions.
Fiyero blinked. "But I haven't even-"
Boq cut him off. "I am not hearing voices in my head," he declared under his breath. "Bad enough that Galinda Wannabe caught me grumbling to myself, I'm not having people think I've gone completely off the deep end."
Be that as it may, Fiyero could definitely tell he had graduated from the kiddie pool, at least. "Boq, you idiot, it's not-"
"Shut up!" he commanded the prince; oh, that little psycho was so having his head stuck down the privy when this was all over. "Oh Oz, not you too!" he added, louder this time.
Fiyero's vision was temporarily blocked by a spoke wheel as Nessarose rolled up to the little munchkin.
"Oh, don't give me that," her voice sounded tired, as if she hadn't gotten enough sleep; Yero couldn't see her face from the way she had positioned her chair. "I have to sit at the desk closest to the nearest exit, you know that."
"That's a closet, Nessie. A closet filled with nasty, science-y chemicals that could cripple you even further if you inhaled them. Now go away."
Okay: One, harsh; Two, PLEASE let that not be true!!!
"Boq, really!" Nessarose whispered reproachfully; their classmates had finally settled down and their teachers were explaining the proper protocol for filling in bubbles. "I just thought we should talk about last night…"
Last night?! As in last night?! Oh Quox no! No freaking way did Boq have a "last night" when Fiyero was up till midnight studying.
"Talk about it? Nessa, I don't even want to think about it! In fact, if I could have last night surgically removed from my brain-"
"Was it that bad? I mean I know you were moaning I lot but-"
He so, so, did not need to hear this conversation.
"I wasn't moaning, Nessa, I was screaming! It was muffled by that latex or whatever cloth you stuffed inside my mouth!"
WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION. Also, Nessarose knew tricks…?
"You're exaggerating," her voice said dismissively. "I think I did a decent job- I mean it's not like it was my first time!"
"Yes, your sister mentioned that during her brief visit," Boq replied wryly. "And if you did such a great job, then why did it take you till three in the morning to get it the way you wanted it?"
Fiyero twitched violently; his horror was not only at the increasingly disgusting mental pictures he was getting, but also from the bitter irony of it all: Nessa- crippled, innocent little Nessa- wasn't a (well, you know)- whereas her ABLE-BODIED, TOTALLY SWANKIFIED sister hadn't even been KISSED??? URGH!!!
Speaking of his Lovely Leaf, she had WALKED IN ON THEM??? Oz, he obviously really didn't know Nessa (and he wasn't sure he wanted to, either.) No wonder Elphaba had been gone for so long before she found he and Galinda-
Fiyero closed his eyes. He was so, so, dead. WHY had he let that blonde little creampuff kiss him, WHY??? Shizkin, first catching her sister in the act and then coming back to see him swapping spit with the Pink Predator?!
The professors shushed Bessa's bickering and were beginning to pass out the test. Since he didn't want to distract the other students, Fiyero decided to look for those chemicals Boq had mentioned instead of banging his head against the wall again.
Hey, it killed an hour.
The examination was halfway over when the classroom door opened.
"What are you all doing here?!" a voice cried indignantly.
Dr. Dillamond had finally returned.
Fiyero squinted through the keyhole again, deciding that this was worth giving up a minute of conceded self-loathing. One of the Profs., a woman dressed in vulgarly bright pink shawls and finger nails the length of the school's running track (he could only hope she taught Cosmetology) ushered him out into the hall, appearing to murmur soothingly to him as though he were a small child on the brink of a tantrum.
"All right people, back to your tests," the other teacher- a gruff, portly little man- barked.
Not a chance. The Goat was sputtering at a very audible level, resentment growing with every decibel.
"Overreacting?! I am certainly not overreacting Miss Niemeyer! How would you feel if someone just waltzed into your classroom and- I am fully aware you did not do any dancing in order to prepare for testing, Miss, I am not a simpleton! Just because I-"
This one-sided argument for some minutes before a breathy, female voice devoid of all patience cried out, "Animals!" disdainfully; unable to see, Fiyero could only assume she had stormed off in a huff, for when the door reopened only the Doctor came in.
"You may stay here," he said in a voice of deathly calm, "until your examinations are complete. When you are finished, you will pass your papers up to the front and then immediately leave, as I have a class to prepare for and more important things to do than baby-sit a generation of ignorants who have not been specifically charged to me."
The words rang out through the silence like the crack of a whip; Dillamond turned his back on the class and sat down at his desk, glowering as though daring them to question his authority on the matter.
The rest of the test was taken in stony silence. Fiyero was uncomfortable even with a layer of wood separating him from the tension; he could only imagine how his peers were feeling as they glanced uncertainly at each other, pushing their pencils with much more gusto than before.
One by one, they did as they were bidden, handing their papers to the person in front of them, bolting as soon as possible.
It seemed a matter of seconds between the departure of the last student (Nessa, being wheeled out by her instructor) and the arrival of Dr. Dillamond's actual class, all of whom flooded in, completely oblivious.
Elphaba was with them.
She kept her green head bowed, raven hair falling in front of her face in silky sheets. She appeared determined to look anywhere but the closet (really good sign).
He stared at her through the entire period, ignoring the dagger twisting in his gut. He couldn't read her expression- it was just…intense. Every now and then, if she came across a particularly tricky question she'd tilt her head to the side, the tip of her tongue just poking out of the side of her lip.
On anyone else, having such a serious demeanor matched with such a comical pose would have been unflattering, but on Elphie it was just cute. Not in a fluffy, Galinda-esque way (thank Oz) but just…cute.
Shizkin, it hadn't even been half a day and he already missed her…
She was, not surprisingly, the first one finished. She walked up to Dillamond's desk to set her paper down, leaning in as she did so as if to whisper something. There was a brief pause (Fiyero supposed the Goat must be answering, for Elphaba's frame had blocked him from his view) and then her back straightened suddenly, as though she had heard something surprising. She stood there a minute as if he mumbled something else and she returned to her seat, her face puzzled and a little hurt.
Fiyero was torn between the bubbling anger in his stomach for the Goat's apparent rudeness to Elphie and the pity assaulting his chest from the earlier incident. He settled for pity, because he was just a considerate guy like that.
(And okay, he was a little miffed at the green girl for causing him to be stuck in the Closet of Perpetual Boredom for over three hours without so much as a cookie to nibble on.)
The rest of the class chugged by slowly. It was all Yero could do to stay awake; unlike last time, Dillamond followed the school's procedures regarding dismissal after exams- no one was allowed to leave until the entire class had finished. Elphaba had pulled out a book while she waited for the others to finish- her Cosmetology text, by the look of it. He couldn't help noticing, though, that her eyes weren't scanning the page as one usually did while reading. This concerned him a bit, but then again…it was Cosmetology. Maybe she was just looking at the pretty pictures.
He studied her awhile, her features as intoxicating to him as any draft of vodka. Still, he had to get punch-drunk sometime, and his attention wavered. He let his gaze wander aimlessly around the room until he finally noticed Galinda was also there. Well of course she was; her schedule was burned into his brain more than his mother's lyrics (and that, unfortunately, was quite a lot.)
He looked his "girlfriend" over, knowing how the majority of the world viewed her: fair, well-groomed, with a figure most girls would kill to have and other fellows would kill to slip their hands around. But at this moment, he really couldn't tell why. It all seemed so fake and superficial…completely unappealing…
Oz, he had to get out of this freaking closet. Not only was he thinking now, he was also being all perceptive and crap. He was probably going to start using metaphors in a minute. This was, without a doubt, cruel and unusual punishment.
Deciding to make lemons out of lemonade, Fiyero spent the rest of the period making a mental list of other cruel and unusual punishments (hot coals, shopping with Galinda… needles in odd places, trying to converse with Galinda…having to listen to his mother's latest demo nonstop at a record release party, being with Galinda…)
He was just on how annoying it was to have to pick glitter out of his teeth after making out with Galinda and her Princess Sparkle Lip-gloss when he realized that everyone was clearing out of the room, and quite quickly too; apparently Fiyero wasn't the only one who had noticed Dillamond's little snub to Elphie, which they realized could only bode ill for them. The Goat, harassing his favorite student? Oz knew what he'd do to the rest of them!
Galinda in particular seemed in a rush to leave, clearly knowing Dillamond's opinion of her. She hovered over the Elphaba's desk as the other girl slowly collected her belongings, but Elphie waved her off, telling her she'd see her back at the dorm later.
"Oh, but Fifi and I were going out for a coffee to celebrate our first tests being over! I really wanted you to come with us!"
Um, was there another Fifi he didn't know about? Because Fiyero had agreed to no such thing.
"No thank you," Elphie declined politely. "You and Fifi should have some quality time to yourselves."
Okay, now that was just uncalled for.
The two of them left eventually, still bickering over the matter and leaving Fiyero with absolutely nothing to entertain himself now that everyone else had gone too. He hadn't checked the schedule this far ahead, but he was pretty certain no other class was forthcoming by the way Dillamond was just sitting at his desk, his expression a cool mask.
Fiyero turned away from the door, pondering what to do now. He had, of course, skipped breakfast- save his routine cup of hot chocolate- and was starving. On top of this he was bored out of his mind, and- as previously stated- possibly losing air flow to vital organs. Coupled with the fact that he really wasn't all that worried about his disciplinary record –and there wasn't tangible evidence that he had actually done anything wrong- he was seriously beginning to wonder why the Quox he was still in this closet.
Well I suppose I haven't completely thrown away my brainless goal with this little misadventure, he thought irritably. He sucked in a breath of air, about to call out when he was cut off by-
-a sob.
Perplexed, Yero peered through the keyhole; Dillamond's face was buried into his desk, quaking shoulders the only indication of his tears save the one gasp of breath. Understandably, the prince was taken aback, and took a step backward out of shock. This- of course- resulted in him knocking his head against a shelf inside the little cupboard, thereby knocking over several expensive-looking glass items and sent them careening to the floor with and audible crash.
Okay, you know what? I am marking this date on my calendar, and next year? I'm just staying in freaking bed all day- preferably with Elphie.
He heard Dillamond jump up from his chair…the sound of hoofs scuffing the floor…
"Well, what have we here?" the Goat's voice said- his tone dry though his voice was still congested.
There was a pause, which was filled only by Dillamond's swearing under his breath and a faint tinkling sound- like a key, falling on linoleum because of a lack of opposable thumbs (because, of course he had an extra, or found the one on the floor, or called conjured one up from out of nowhere because the Fates loved to spite him…)
There was a long pause. Then:
"Let the blonde girl go, Master Tiggular."
Fiyero winced as the florescent light flooded his vision for the first time in over four hours. "What blonde?" he asked blankly, shielding his eyes.
Once his pupils had adjusted some, he could see the Goat glowering knowingly at him, and got it.
"Oh, uh…" Fiyero replied awkwardly. "Um, she's not here."
Unconvinced, the Goat pushed him to the side and inspected the closet for himself, careful to step over the glass (and also what appeared to be a petrified muskrat, EW) that littered the ground.
He blinked. "She's really not with you?" he asked blankly.
Fiyero shook his head. "Only seen her twice all day- with little physical contact," he added.
Dillamond raised an eyebrow. "Hold out your arms."
As puzzled as the Goat looked, the prince did as he was bidden. "Um, sir?" he prompted as the professor turned his hands over and lifted up his sleeves, "can I ask what exactly it is that you're doing?"
"No visible answers marked…" he muttered, mostly to himself, "And I'm not much in the mood for a strip search," he added, blanching.
Choosing not to comment on that last remark, Fiyero said assuredly, "The desks closest to the cupboard were all empty, sir. And Boq was the only one who sat there last time and…well, you know…"
"Biq?" Dillamond repeated (well, almost.) "How long have you been in there, Master Tiggular?"
Six hours, fifteen minutes, thirty-five seconds. "Awhile," he admitted, scuffing his shoe on the floor.
"So is any explanation forthcoming, or shall I have to prompt for it?"
"Pretty sure you just did," Fiyero replied, unable to help himself. "But um…I was looking for you to uh, ask you a question before the exam?"
Dillamond blinked. "You?" he asked in blatant disbelief.
"Um, yeah," Fiyero said, deciding to roll with it. "I went looking for you early this morning- 'cause I mean, no offense, but I don't exactly want it to get out that I care somewhat about my grades and shizk-I mean stuff- and, um, Galinda saw me lurking around your room, so I got all freakified or whatever so I decided to hide in the closet, and it worked only the knob…wouldn't…turn…" he trailed off.
The Goat looked at him skeptically.
"Whatever it really was, did you mean to harm anyone?"
The prince studied the floor. "Not intentionally, no."
"Sabotage any tests?"
"Never, Dr. Dillamond."
"And your father's bank account can cover the cost of my petrified Zacenthan muskrat?"
"Twice over, sir."
The professor rolled his eyes. "Fortunately you've caught me in a forgiving mood, Master Tiggular," he said tiredly. "Far be it to enforce an injustice on another, after-" he broke off.
"You are free to leave," he said simply, gesturing at the door.
Fiyero hurried towards the exit. "Thanks," he said gratefully.
"One last thing-"
Fiyero paused obediently as the Goat scuffled behind his desk, scribbling something.
"-the next time you go to pick Miss Galinda up for- er- interaction, could you give these to her roommate?" he handed him two envelopes.
Fiyero tried to ignore the plummeting feeling in his stomach- and not just at the idea of "interacting" with his girlfriend. "Sure, Dr. D," was his breezy reply as he headed towards the door. "Oh, and sir?" he added as he was about to cross the threshold.
"Yes, Master Tiggular?" he replied dryly.
"I hope things get better for you."
The old Goat opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and said, "I very much appreciate that, Master Tiggular."
And with his wry smile Fiyero knew he had been dismissed.
A/N: Constructive (but still positive/polite) criticism greatly appreciated! Again, sorry I kept you waiting so long, it honestly wasn't intentional. In case you were wondering, any made-up names like the Halls or whatever are just random words- no mystery meaning behind them. Anyway: review, please!