A/N: Just an idea that's been bugging me for a while. I've been grounded for the past few weeks so I wrote this in my notebook. It's really short, and not up to my usual standards, but what they heck.
DISCLAIMER: Everything you recognize isn't mine. The only thing I own is the random AU plot and Flynnia.
A Good Deed Goes Unpunished
"No good deed goes unpunished!" Elphaba screamed furiously. "All helpful urges should be circumvented."
Everything she had done, she did to make good.
Everything—everything—had gone wrong.
"So be it, then." So be it. So be it.
"Let all Oz be agreed," Elphaba growled, "I'm wicked through and through. Since I could not succeed, Fiyero, saving you, I promise no good deed will I attempt to do again!"
Unknown to Elphaba, a little Munchkin girl saw her. The girl, no more than five years of age, hadn't heard the rumors about the Wicked Witch of the West. She didn't even know what the commotion in Center Munch was about.
"Ever again!" echoed through the cornfield.
"Hello?" the Munchkin called (though in her developing speech it sounded more like "hewo").
A figure loomed in front of her, tall, with black skirts billowing about the person's ankles. A cape was draped across the shoulders, blending into the black dress.
"What's your name?" the little girl asked innocently.
The woman glowered down at her, the light revealing green skin and haunted eyes. "I have no need for a name."
"I'm Flynnia," the girl—Flynnia—said.
The woman sighed. "Call me what you will; I'm leaving anyway."
Flynnia pouted her lip. "But I have no one to play with!" she whined.
"Fine," the Witch replied. "I have a few clock-tiks to spare. One game."
Elphaba winced as Flynnia squealed in delight. What in Lurline's name had she gotten herself into?
"One game" turned out to be gathering flowers. The flowers then "had" to be weaved into crowns (which Elphaba refused to wear until Flynnia looked as if she might cry). Wearing flower crowns led to a game of pretend, in which Elphaba and Flynnia were the lost Ozma and the Kumbric Witch, returned to rid Oz of its evils. It was when "the Wizard"—a large tree—was to name them the Queens of Oz that Elphaba finally asked herself what she was doing.
What was she doing?
Why was she still here? She had to get Nessa's shoes off of that farm girl; they were rightfully hers.
"Ellie?" Flynnia snapped Elphaba out of her thoughts.
"Mmm?" Elphaba blinked and pulled the flowers out of her hair.
"What are you doing? We still have to go to the ball!" the girl whined.
"I can't. I need to leave. I have things to do."
Flynnia groaned. "Do you have to?"
The green woman smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."
And she was, much to her surprise. She was sorry to have to return to reality, to her own pathetic existence.
They said their good-byes quickly. Elphaba then seemed to melt into the shadows.
Later Flynnia would see a green and black person perched on a broomstick, flying off towards the sunset.
An angel. The Angel of the West, off to help someone else.
Flynnia had no idea who the person was. She simply remembered her as Ellie, a real, live angel.