Here's another chapter! It includes some Fiyeraba for all of my readers that ship it. Anyway, enjoy and review!

"Fiyero, Oz, where were you?" screeched Baxiana, gripping her son by the shoulders with her tiger-like claws.

"I had things to do," Fiyero answered her. It wasn't a lie, not really. He did have things to do.

Baxiana shook her head as she looked at him. In her eyes, the prince was a lost cause. Hopefully Glinda could knock some sense into the brainless man. She just backed up and let out her breath. There was absolutely no point in arguing with him.

Fiyero shot a toothy grin at his mother and then casually strolled down to the kitchen, dodging servants and cooks as they left. "Elphaba!" He called in a sing-song tone.

The green girl didn't turn nor did she acknowledge that he had spoken. The other servants, however, turned and bowed as Fiyero strode in. It sort of bothered him that she didn't seem to give a damn about him, but he supposed that served him right after he got her into trouble.

"Do you all mind if we have a private talk?" Fiyero announced, watching as the excess crowd shuffled out of the double doors.

That was when Elphaba slapped her rag on the table and whipped around to face him, her hands resting on the edge of the table behind her. "Fiyero, what the hell do you want?" She snapped at him.

"I was just thinking-"

"Oh, the brainless prince actually does have a brain. Who would have thought? But please don't exert yourself. I don't want to be the one responsible if your brain bursts from the mere process of thinking." She stated sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Do you really feel the need to be so sarcastic?" Fiyero asked her, hurt.

"Do you feel the need to invade my personal space? If so, I'd advise you to rethink that choice. You wouldn't want to catch 'the green'."

Elphaba's dry humor was actually more of an insult to the prince, but he shook it off. He wasn't going to be easily defeated. No one took a hold of victory over him, especially not some snarky servant. "Would that really be so bad? It could be worse." Elphaba raised an eyebrow in question. "I could catch 'the blonde' from Glinda. At least you think straight."

Elphaba's lip curled and her expression was one of approval. But she sauntered forward until their noses were almost touching. "And how would you know how I think, Master Fiyero? You don't know me." She made to spit in his face, but quickly stopped herself.

He gripped the thin fabric of her apron and pulled her closer to him, his heart pounding. "I know a whole lot more than you think." He whispered.

After that, neither of them could explain what had happened and why they did it. Fiyero brushed a strand of raven hair behind her ear and pressed his lips to hers. Elphaba responded eagerly (even though she shouldn't have) and her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his tattooed neck. He lifted her up and set her on the table, his hands tangling in the tendrils of her silken hair, and kissed her some more. It was perfect, in his opinion. It was flat-out perfect to be kissing her plush, succulent lips and running his hands through her luxurious mane. Fiyero reluctantly broke their kiss and proceeded to assault her graceful neck, her exotic and enticing smell drawing him to her.

Elphaba, through the haze of her awakening desire, opened her eyes and leapt away, somersaulting over the granite countertop and landing on her feet. "What were you doing?" She spluttered, her dark eyes widening in fear and she pressed herself to the wall.

"We kissed, Elphaba." Fiyero answered her as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Elphaba dropped her head into her emerald hands and slid down the wall, falling to the ground. The prince ran to her, his face in horror. "Elphaba, are you alright? Can you hear me?" He questioned her, sounding fearful.

Without warning, she sprung up to her feet and backed away from him. "No, I am not alright. I hate you, Fiyero Tigelaar. I hate you!" She shouted at him.

"Elphaba, wait, I'm sorry." Fiyero ran after her and grabbed her wrist. She wriggled out of his grip and left the kitchen, slamming the double doors behind her.

The servant took a deep breath and ran into the bathroom, collapsing on the floor. She began to breathe heavily and she hit herself in the head angrily. "What is wrong with you, Elphaba?" She whispered to herself. "You've gone and betrayed your best friend by kissing her fiancée. You're such a great friend." Gulping, she looked up at the mirror above the sink and gasped. She quickly launched herself to her feet and ran a finger down her neck. At the base of her vocal chords, there was a rather large bruise and she nearly screamed.

"Damn it," She hissed. "Great, a hickey; thanks Fiyero. It's much appreciated." Oh Oz, what was she going to do? Her hair couldn't cover it and she couldn't use any of Glinda's makeup to cover it. Another reason that she hated her skin.

Opening the cabinet, Elphaba removed a bandage and took off the paper, sticking it to the base of her bony neck. It was an accident, she told herself, I accidentally cut myself when I was putting the knife away. Yes, that would work.