Elphaba ran out of the room, cursing herself for a decidedly overblown reaction. So what if some flowers and a hairdo – made out of nothing but dark chalk and liquid ink – hid her flaws and made her look normal for once?

This is must be why other girls focus on appearances so much, Elphaba thought scathingly. So they could be prettier.

Well, too bad for her. People would look at her like that and run off screaming.

Would they?

What would it be like if –

"Argh!"

"Oof!"

For the second time that day, Elphaba found herself sprawled onto the ground and looking at a decidedly blue pair of eyes that were also very decidedly unwelcome.

"Will you –" she grunted as she got up in a rather undignified manner, "learn to stop knocking people down?"

"Excuse me?" Fiyero said incredulously. "Firstly, I didn't knock you down. I was just standing here, minding my own business –"

"Oh, sure, you mean smoking, which is clearly banned –"

" – when someone who's clearly lost her sense of sight comes barreling into me, and then accuses me of knocking her down –"

"Who said I was accusing you?"

"And secondly," Fiyero continued. "I didn't 'knock you down' the first time. It was Avaric that tried not to flatten you into a pile of green mush, if I remember correctly."

Elphaba scoffed and smoothed invisible dirt off her dress. "And why are you out on this fine night, smoking away? Didn't Galinda send you off to bed like a good little boy?"

Fiyero took a long drag before answering, "Well, Miss. I-just-changed-the-subject, I'm just looking at the stars, relaxing after a long day of school, education … you know."

Elphaba ignored his obvious dig at her, choosing to snort. "You call a day of teaching schoolmates how to waltz a 'long day'?"

"Hey, educating my fellow students is a tiring job, okay?"

"… Right."

They subsided into a semi-comfortable silence, with Fiyero contentedly blowing out smoke circles and sneaking side glances at this fiery-tempered roommate of his … girlfriend?

Yeah. Girlfriend of one day.

"You look different."

Elphaba stiffened, and answered coolly, "How so?"

Fiyero twisted his head, examining her more closely. Elphaba feigned a nonchalant air, all the while praying that the dim lighting of a few streetlamps would not show that she had …

"Why do you have a flower in your hair? And speaking of your hair –"

"Your girlfriend did this to me."

"Oh, so now she's MY girlfriend, not YOUR roommate."

"… Yes, because everything's your fault."

Fiyero leaned further in, looking at Elphaba's face for any other differences or – God forbid – traces of makeup. None were found, save for the slight thinning of her lips as he continued to examine her. Her eyelashes were long and dark, casting slight shadows at the corners of her eyes. He doubted that she needed mascara (he did have a sister to educate him on these terms), or that powder used to highlight cheekbones, because – dear Oz, hers were –

"Are you done cross-examining my face?"

Fiyero started in surprise, realizing that he had been unconsciously going closer and closer to her face. "Yeah, sorry." He quickly leaned back and took a long drag of his cigarette, before saying, "Based on my observations, Galinda hasn't done anything to your face yet."

"No, thank Oz. I'm not letting her anyways." Elphaba shuddered at the thought of it.

Fiyero chuckled, before throwing his cigarette on the group and crushing it. Bending down, he picked up the flattened piece of burnt paper and threw it into the nearest bin.

"I wish you luck in evading her advances, though," Fiyero said. "She'll get to you soon enough."

"Not if she wants to stay alive," Elphaba muttered. A thought occurred to her, and she sighed. "I guess I'll be seeing you often though, as you two are obviously matched for life."

"Miss. Elphaba, here I thought that you'd be thrilled. Do my ears detect a strain of glumness?"

"Clean them, then, because they obviously can't pick up my full dosage."

"Ah well," Fiyero doffed an imaginary hat. "Some ladies do take some time to acclimatize."

"Be … Be careful," Elphaba said, trying to voice out a strange feeling of protectiveness. "Don't hurt Glinda, or – as cliché as this sounds – you'll have me to deal with."

"Why, I'd never do that!" Fiyero exclaimed in an exaggerated fashion, though his eyes were sincere. He didn't want to hurt Galinda – she was a sweet, pretty thing, and besides, these flings and their resulting consequences never lasted long.

Elphaba gave him a long, searching look. "Good."

Checking her watch, Elphaba was surprised to see that it was almost two in the morning. She groaned as she thought of the inevitable sunrise, and the thought that she still had owed an apology – or at least an explanation – to a certain blonde.

"Well, I'll leave you to ponder your thoughts in solitude then," she said, stifling a sudden yawn. Fiyero nodded, before saying, "Want me to walk you back to your room?"

"There's no need, I'm a big girl," Elphaba smirked tiredly. "Besides, you appearing there could cause a scandal, for what would a Prince be doing with the green girl at such wee hours of the morning?"

"Good point," Fiyero conceded with amusement. "Well, goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

As Elphaba walked slowly back to her room, she pondered over the rather unexpected meeting with Fiyero. He'd seemed gentlemanly enough, and a rather normal person for someone of royal birth. It was an odd contrast, seeing him taking a moment alone without the usual crowd blanketing him in a cloud of glitter and glam. His sense of humour and wit were also refreshing, reminding her that not all members of the upper class were insufferably dull and boring like Father's acquaintances.

As Fiyero walked slowly back into his room, he wondered over Galinda's roommate. Granted, their meetings so far were by accidents, and usually accompanied by someone – her – falling over. But he couldn't help but remember the sheer determination in her eyes earlier that evening at the Ozdust, and how she used words as her personal shield and weapon, sparring with anyone crossing her path. Sarcastic as she may be, Fiyero couldn't understand why some of the females of Shiz thought her ugly beyond belief, judging by the snippets of conversation he'd overheard. Unbidden, an image of her face upturned towards his, lighted by dim streetlamps, crossed his mind and he shook his head.

"Definitely not ugly," he murmured to himself. "But not … pretty, either. Maybe striking would be a better word." He mused over that for a few seconds, before rousing himself with a self-deprecatory chuckle. "Mister Fiyero, you must be going mad. It's too late to be thinking about these inconsequential things."

A/N: - peeks out from behind a computor screen - Hello ... Anyone there?

I'm so sorry for half a year's lack of updates - I suffered from a condition called Life, and it takes up a lot of my energy and creative juices. I'm so sorry for any of those who came back to check on my story ... Or if there're actually any of you out there still willing to read it. Ha. Ha.

Truth is, I had also lost most of my zeal and fire for musical theatre in general; I blame it mostly on aforesaid condition, and don't worry - I still love Fiyeraba and Wicked, even if Fiyero and Elphaba argue like a married couple already when they speak through my fingers, and I have to stop myself from letting them just make out.

There were some parts of this chapter that were rather ironic - Fiyero obviously thinks the "fling" with Galinda won't last long (but it will ...) and what can happen between a Prince and a green girl in the wee hours of the morning? (A lot, duh.) But both are still in the first few stages of getting to know each other, though Fiyero definitely feels an attraction. - winks -

Cookies and Starbucks to those staying up late (like I did to type this)! Please don't favourite without leaving a review (even if it's just 2 words), please leave constructive criticism, and do follow the story for updates that are (hopefully) more on time!