Hey everyone. I hope you don't hate me for making you wait, what has it been, three weeks? Gosh I suck. I'm sorry everyone. I'm a senior in college and school stress plus problems with my new job plus regular stuff has had my mind bogged down too much for me to pick back up on this story with the enthusiasm it deserves. I figured that the Fiyeraba chapter would keep most of you content for a while while I tried to get the motivation to work on more but not all of you enjoyed it as much as I thought you would, so I do have this chapter ready for those who aren't such hopeless romantics.

I was in such a rush to go to the Idina concert last time I updated that I completely forgot to tell all of you the results of the Halloween survey! I certainly got a kick out of it: There were seven of you who claimed to either had been, wanted to be, had been, or will be Elphaba for Halloween. While I give you all big kudos for your devotion, apparently you weren't very original. :) As for the rest, there was one other scarecrow, a female Indiana Jones ("I Diana Jones"), and a pirate. I'm sure none of you care anymore since it's been a month since Halloween but I still find it funny so I had to share. :D

In the darkness of his personal quarters, the Wizard of Oz sipped at a glass of green liquid. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that the record he had playing in the corner stopped and needed to be flipped, or that Madame Morrible had slipped in and was watching him from the corner.

The man had been fine earlier in the morning, but the moment the attack happened outside of his throne room he went all wonky on her, Morrible thought bitterly. It didn't appear as though he was frightened, and as well he shouldn't, as it didn't appear as though the assailant had any interest in the Wizard. Something else in the event had triggered him feeling sorry for himself, and Morrible had the dilemma of deciding whether or not she wanted to find out what it was.

"Your Ozness, what are you doing in here? It is the middle of the day," Morrible cawed, striding across the bedroom and wrenching open the thick curtains. She smiled as the light shone into the pitch black room; though the weather was still somewhat gloomy outside, even the dull daylight would be more than the Wizard would appreciate. As expected, he moaned miserably before dropping his head with a loud 'thump' on the wooden table.

"Have you been up here the whole time since you were evacuated from the throne room? And drinking I see. Are you inebriated?"

"Not yet," the Wizard grumbled, stroking his thumb across the rim of his glass slowly. "Tell me, Madame, what is the situation?"

"Well, from everything I have gathered, the attack was not aimed at you," Morrible responded as she seated herself opposite the Wizard at his scrubbed table and stared at the top of his head. "The insurgent claimed to support the Witch, unsurprisingly. Even in death, Elphaba still manages to cause trouble for us…" She paused. "You aren't still grieving that rebellious little spitfire, are you? You hardly even knew her."

"That's not true. I knew her. Inexplicably."

"She brought this fate upon herself," Morrible said impatiently, flapping a hand in front of her as though to brush the topic away.

"No." The Wizard lifted himself up so he could take another swallow of his drink, then he stared at Morrible while she attempted to keep an indifferent expression. "I brought this upon her! Her death is on my hands. Twice I had the opportunity to help her – to better her! – and both times I let her slip away. The first time, well, who could have predicted she would be so uncontrollable, so passionate, and so…so good?"

"Good? She was a terrorist!"

Surely he couldn't have forgotten all the fear she caused in people, all of the horrible things she had done? Those monkeys, for starters! Those poor, innocent monkeys, thought Morrible with internal glee.

"Only because we made her that way! That woman could have done anything with her life. If only I hadn't felt the need for more power; for more control! Young Miss Elphaba could have completed her education, she could have settled down, she could have been happy. She would never have known that the wonderful Wizard was nothing but a crackpot old fool…a humbug. I am a humbug."

Did the Wizard not realize how pathetic he was acting? Morrible preferred the drunks with anger issues over this, without a doubt.

"Then," he mumbled, as if he felt the need to further explain his midday guilt trip, though Morrible had already heard more than she cared for, "I nearly had her a second time. I meant it when I said I was going to make her wonderful; I wanted to give her everything I had! But the moment she was finally going to crack, finally going to give in, I bungled. She swore to fight me until death, and now that moment has come and gone and I wish more than anything I could have made been the man she could have been proud of."

"Oh, please," Morrible spat out, her tolerance waning. "Get a hold of yourself and realize that girl was unstable, irrational and maniacal. Good riddance to bad rubbish."

The Wizard twitched his mustache at this and ignored Morrible as she stood up and pushed her chair in roughly. She tapped her toe with impatience; they had more important things to worry about.

"The longer you sit here and brood, the more time Miss Upland has. Need I remind you we just explained to her that the man she is now nursing in her tower is the same one we said was dead?"

"He was dead. You sent the order yourself to have him executed."

Morrible exhaled dramatically, frustrated. "And as I expressed earlier, Elphaba continues to be a thorn in our side, even in the afterlife. Only she possessed enough power to revive the deceased. It seemed she had one final, desperate stunt before sucking in her last deplorable breath."

The Wizard downed the last of his drink and slammed the empty glass onto the wood with impressive anger before he glared at her. Well, why couldn't she see this side of the Wizard more? She would like the feeble fool better overall, she imagined, as his slight outburst faded.

"After underestimating Elphaba so long, I don't completely trust your judgment in regards to the women's powers. Are you certain that Lady Glinda truly defeated the attacker? I wasn't aware she was so capable."

"Oh, I believe Miss Upland has become quite adept in the last few years. She knows much more than I ever taught her, and certainly whatever spell she used outside of the throne room was one of her own. I must keep a closer eye on her, especially after what happened a couple hours ago."

"She is going to be quite upset with us."

"Quite," Morrible agreed quietly. While Glinda had become stronger in the last few years and more confident, Morrible wasn't sure she had what it takes to truly give them a reason to worry in their throne room. She wasn't normally a religious woman, but she would pray to any god that Glinda wouldn't take up Elphaba's mantle and acquire that ludicrous chutzpah that her old schoolmate had. That would be something awful. "My dear, my dear— we have much to do. What instructions do you have for me? Moments ago, Miss Upland scheduled meetings with you for herself and for others, Oz knows why. The Governor's funeral is set to commence now that they have removed that house, and we still have to discuss what we shall do with Elphaba's death."

The Wizard sighed. "I shall see Miss Upland first thing in the morning; best not to keep her stewing. Delay the other meeting as long as possible, I wish not to speak to others. In regards to Elphaba's passing, let people continue to make merry. Later in the week we shall conclude celebrations."

Morrible turned to leave, but, door handle in hand, she remembered an important point she wanted to make, one of the primary reasons she interrupted the man's self-reproach in the first place.

"When you speak with Miss Upland tomorrow, ask her about the Grimmerie. Both it and the magical broom were missing from the Witch's grave, and she was the first official on the scene." Morrible tried to plaster a smile, as though she didn't know exactly which blonde bimbo in the vast Land of Oz took her treasured book, and growled through her gritted teeth, "Perhaps she knows to where they've disappeared."

Glinda? Know something? Psht, no, that's just crazy talk. ;)

I can't post another chapter until I finish the next one, which is almost done. Wanna help out a starving author? You know what to do!