AN: Maybe the most logical thing would be for Elphaba to freak out and run off right now, but I thought that was so cliché... so I did something else. Heheh.

It's funny that you seemed more shocked at the 'pie scene' in the previous chapter than at me killing off and/or torturing characters in other stories :'). Your reactions kind of reminded me of something George Martin, the author of Game of Thrones, once said:

"I can describe an axe entering a human skull in great explicit detail and no one will blink twice at it. I provide a similar description, just as detailed, of a penis entering a vagina, and I get letters about it and people swearing off. (...)"

Kind of crazy, actually, if you think about it...

Anyways, no pie in this chapter, don't worry :P and no more pie in the rest of this story, either... I think. Not sure yet.

Day Six

When Boq stepped outside in the morning, he was feeling exhausted.

He had been up most of the night, and he was completely done. Galinda, even though she had claimed to be so tired, had been wandering around the house all night, singing and dancing through the hallways; and every time Boq had tried to get her to go back to her bedroom, she'd giggled and treated it like a game of tag, running away from him. He had been chasing her through the house half the night.

When he hadn't been chasing Galinda, he had been comforting Nessa, who had grown extremely nauseous around three in the morning and started throwing up. She'd only stopped and fallen asleep – finally – about an hour ago. Boq swore to himself that he was never going to let either of those girls have a glass of Vinkun wine ever again.

He was glad he wasn't hungover himself, but he still felt terrible because of his lack of sleep. He was cranky, tired, and pissed, and all he wanted was to get into his bed and sleep right now.

Only then he realised he couldn't.

He hadn't even thought of Fiyero and Elphaba until now, he'd been so busy taking care of the other two. Realising he had never seen or heard either of them entering the house, he had gone upstairs to check up on them, only to realise their rooms were empty and their beds hadn't been slept in.

And so poor, exhausted Boq had returned downstairs, pulled on a pair of shoes, and, sighing, gone outside to look for his friends…

…only to find them on the beach, a short distance away from the house, both fast asleep.

They were both covered, but the fact that Fiyero's shirt was now on Elphaba and their shoes, as well as Elphaba's dress, were lying discarded a metre or so away from them, clearly told Boq what had happened.

Too tired now to bother with subtlety, he cleared his throat and said loudly, "Well, this is awkward."

Fiyero shot up at the sound of the Munchkin's voice, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. "Boq, what in Oz…"

He fell silent when he realised what position the other boy had found them in and his face flushed. "Oh."

"Yes," said Boq, gritting his teeth. "Oh."

Fiyero cleared his throat. "Um… it's not what you think?" he tried.

Boq raised an eyebrow. "So you and Elphaba did not have sex?"

Fiyero looked down at the young witch curled up against his side, dressed in his shirt, and then he looked sheepishly back at Boq. "Okay, so maybe it is what you think," he muttered.

"So you and Elphaba did have sex," Boq concluded.

Fiyero glared at him again.

"Spare me the looks," Boq snapped. "I was up all night bringing Nessa glasses of water and wet pieces of cloth and holding back her hair as she threw up, not to mention chasing Galinda through the entire house; and then when I finally thought I could get some rest, I found out that you two were gone. We're all used to you being irresponsible, but I can't believe you dragged the others into this as well. None of them are used to alcohol. You should have warned them about the wine."

"I did say it was strong!" Fiyero protested. "But they all liked it, and I thought… I just thought we could have some fun, you know? That's all…"

"Fun?!" Boq snorted. "Nessa is feeling terrible, not to mention the fact that Elphaba is going to kill you when she wakes up. You do realise that, right? For Oz's sake, Fiyero – Nessa told me once that her sister has never even been kissed before, and now you went and did… this," he gestured towards the green girl, "when she wasn't even fully aware of what she was doing? You took advantage of her!"

"I…" Fiyero faltered when he realised that the Munchkin was right, and a wave of horror washed over him. "I never meant…"

"Well, you did," Boq said angrily. "And she's never going to forgive you for this." He turned around. "If you'll excuse me now, I'm going to see if my girlfriend needs some more vomit to be cleaned up. Well done, Fiyero. Really. Well done." With that, he stalked off.

Fiyero looked back at Elphaba with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Boq was right – he had taken advantage of her. She would never have done this if she had been sober. She would probably indeed never forgive him, and she'd be right, too.

He smoothed her hair away from her forehead, suddenly wanting to cry – which, of course, he didn't. He was a man, after all. But that didn't mean he didn't feel like doing it.

"I'm so sorry, Fae," he whispered.

She murmured his name in her sleep and he leant forward to kiss her forehead softly. When she still didn't wake up, he rose to his feet, collected his shoes, and fled, like the coward and the idiot he was, just so that he wouldn't have to face Elphaba when she would wake up.

He knew that he would have to, of course, eventually; but he'd like to postpone that moment as long as he could. She was going to be furious with him. Absolutely furious. And she'd be right, too. He'd seen her magical powers flying out of control over less – she might even lose control over them again. Or maybe she'd slap him. Or just ignore him. For the rest of his life.

He was never going to get together with her now.

Miserable, he returned to the house and went to take a shower, but he didn't feel any cleaner afterwards. He felt like a disgusting piece of filth for using her the way he had. He should run away and never come back. He should go outside and drown himself in the lake.

He didn't, of course. Instead, he walked off, following the coast line. He walked through the sand until his legs started to hurt, and then he fell down into the sand and stared off across the lake for hours without really seeing anything.

He couldn't go back. Could he? No, he couldn't. He couldn't face her. Not now, not ever. He wanted to remember her the way she had looked last night – eyes sparkling, skin glowing. The way she had looked when she had kissed him and he had kissed her back. Last night, when he had still believed he had a chance with her. That maybe now, she finally would believe him, and she would want to be his girlfriend.

Oh, Oz, last night…

He leapt to his feet, grabbed a rock and threw it into the water out of pure frustration. He tangled his fingers in his hair and screamed. He kicked against a larger rock, then started cursing because he had gone walking bare-footed and now his big toe was swelling up.

And then he cried, because even though he was a man and men did not cry, it didn't matter anymore. No-one could see him here, anyway. And even if they could, what did it matter? Maybe he just wasn't a man. He never had been. A man would never have taken advantage of a girl the way he had of Elphaba.

He thought of going back, but he really didn't think he could. Not yet. Not now. Not after last night. He paced up and down the beach for a while, trying to come up with a way to apologise to Elphaba without her ripping his head off. He didn't realise what time it was until dusk started settling in and he became aware of the fact that he had been gone all day. Evening fell, the sun set, and he still didn't move from his spot on the beach.

He was hungry, thirsty, and cold, but he still felt too ashamed of himself to go back… that, and frankly he was also a little scared of what Elphaba might do to him. He spent most of the night worrying over what might happen. At some point, he fell asleep in the now-cold sand and he dreamt of Elphaba. He dreamt of her yelling at him and hexing him. He dreamt of her crying in her room over what he had done to her. He even dreamt of her being gone when he returned, unable to face him ever again and upset to the point where she'd rather go home than see him once more.

He awoke with his heart pounding in his chest, even more cold, hungry, and miserable than before, and he finally made a decision.

He was upset, but so was she, probably; and he didn't want her to leave before he had apologised to her. If anyone had to leave, it was him, not her. She hadn't done anything wrong. He had. Somehow, he had to do everything he could to make it right for her… or if not right, than at least a little less bad than it was now.

He looked up. It was still dark, but there was a faint light glowing in the east, signifying the sun rising. It must be about five in the morning. He'd been gone all night.

He was being selfish, staying out and not thinking about the others – mostly Elphaba, but the other three as well. It wasn't fair of him to leave them like this.

He rose to his feet, brushed the sand off his clothes, and slowly started walking back to the beach house.