A/N: Another story, another random A/N... I recently reread Wicked, was captivated by Maguire's extreme excellence all over again, and was inspired to mimic him in my puny mortal way. So here I bring you the story of Crope and Tibbett, everyone's favourite... um, theatrical Shiz students. Enjoy!

...

"Three Queens," murmured Crope, looking down at the map that had been drawn for him by his father's chauffeur. He had asked the driver, an aging yet respectable Munchkin, to drop him a few blocks from the entrance to Shiz University, so as not to show off the privilege afforded him in his capacity as the son of one of the most affluent tax-collectors in the Emerald City. In hindsight, however, this choice proved to be less than wise, as Crope became lost within two minutes of losing sight of the carriage. He had spent an educational twenty minutes wandering around inner Shiz, squinting at his map, until a kindly Goat in academic garb had offered to walk him to where he needed to be.

Crope now turned to the Goat, who had introduced himself as Dillamond, and smiled. "I'd like to thank you, sir, for without you I would doubtless have wandered out of Shiz proper, and Oz knows what would have become of me then."

Dillamond nodded courteously. "It was my pleasure to introduce you to this…" (Here Dillamond acquired a look not dissimilar to someone who has just discovered some bad cheese at the back of their pantry) "This fine university. To all intents and purposes, Shiz is a good school. You will learn much here. Whether or not your lessons will be purely academic I cannot say, but…"

Before Crope could ask what Dillamond meant, the Goat indicated a path curving away to the right. "That way you will find Briscoe Hall, where I presume a Queens boy such as yourself will be taking up residence. I trust you can find your way without assistance?"

Crope considered taking offence at this, but his companion had a mischievous glint in his eye. "I hope so," he replied, smiling. "And thank you again."

Dillamond smiled back, as much as a Goat is able, and continued away down another path to Crope's left.

"Not entirely academic..." Crope muttered. Maybe there was some truth to the snatches of rumour about Three Queens that his father had refused to elaborate on.

Crope made his way towards Briscoe Hall and stopped at the back of a large group of boys who were all being assigned rooms. He touched one of them on the shoulder and murmured, "Are you all first years?"

"Through and through," the boy replied.

"So I am in the right place," said Crope, relieved.

"That depends on how green you like 'em," the boy smirked. "Avaric, by the way."

"Crope," he managed, biting back a laugh.

"Your name got called out before," Avaric whispered. "You're rooming with that bright young thing on the steps over there."

Crope turned to see a blonde, slightly effeminate-looking boy standing on the main stairs of Briscoe Hall. A strange flutter in his stomach, he thanked Avaric and walked over to his new roommate.

"You're Crope?" the boy smiled as Crope approached him.

"I am. And you're…"

"Tibbett," the blonde smiled. Crope offered his a hand to shake and he kissed it theatrically.

"Pleased to meet you, Crope."

The two boys smiled at each other, each wondering if the other felt the same sudden awareness of their extremities, and the same slight shudder in the stomach, which in Crope had always foretold a bittersweet longing that had never yet been satisfied.

"Shall we venture in?" Tibbett asked, placing a hand on Crope's shoulder.

"With pleasure," Crope smiled, and inwardly thanked Lurline, or the Unnamed God, or whoever it was that had made Dillamond show up when he had. If Crope had been left to make his own way to the university, he almost certainly would have missed this brief exchange. And those few moments of looking at Tibbett, he decided, were worth more than any number of cryptic conversations with a Goat, professor or otherwise.

...

Review, please?