Defying Levity

A/N: I'm not at all sure how this will turn out, it's just a little something I thought up while battling writer's block in my longer story (and after reading this, why not head over there?) The title popped into my head and I couldn't resist.

Part I

Glinda was – well, concerned might have been too strong a word. Intrigued, perhaps, with a detached interest. At least that was what she told herself. The fact was, that while a ceasefire had fallen between them, Elphaba remained more or less a mystery. And more to the point, an emotional black hole. The green girl didn't cry, didn't sulk or snap or moan. God forbid that anyone should hear her laugh. But what had somehow escaped Glinda until now, was that Elphie hardly ever smiled any more. She didn't think she could remember the last time.

So it was, that in some half-baked show of good will, Glinda resolved on her one goal for the day. She would make her roommate smile (if it killed her).

Starting small, she turned her legendary charm to overdrive. But, if appearances were to be believed, Elphie, hurriedly making for the bathroom, seemed more nauseous than anything else.

Plan B was to dazzle their first class with her wit. Shenshen and Pfanee always laughed at Glinda's jokes. Although, with her two friends' combined brainpower rather on the level of a small canary, perhaps their judgement was not quite top-notch. Or so Glinda gathered when her humorous attempts were met with groans and catcalls from most quarters of the room, and cutting disdain from their supposed recipient.

All was not yet lost, however. Their next shared class was with Professor Frome, who, aside from that regrettable hair-do, was renowned for his much-hated seating plans. 'U' for Upland of course following 'T' for Thropp…

Elphie met Glinda's manic hyper-cheerfulness with the usual stony-faced indifference. Her turning a green shoulder to her neighbour's whispering only served to spur the other on. Words failing, Glinda next tested her artistic skills. She couldn't help feeling just a little miffed when a hilarious sketch of their teacher, (grabbing madly at his pathetic toupee, which ever-ratlike, nibbled at his ear lobes), was crumpled carelessly and tossed to the floor.

That was when everything took a stranger turn. Frome, by this point in the term, was sick to death of this particular class, not to mention their childish sniggering. His eagle eyes catching the piece of paper's fall, the professor swooped in to snatch up his prey.

Several deafening moments later, Glinda - that pastel paragon – stood, stunned, outside the door. Thrown out! Ejected! Extra-muralised! One thought intruded on her incomprehension. What had she seen pass across Elphaba's face? The barest of twitches - a poor shadow of a grin?

A/N no. 2: Second part will come soon. Review, please! Feed me, it's lunchtime!