A/N- I posted this to my shared account a long time ago, but I figured I should put it here. Enjoy!

"I said no, Yero!" Elphaba shouted, wanting to avoid the subject completely. However, she knew that was impossible.

"Come on, Fae," replied Fiyero, walking up to her in his clumsy way. "Why won't you at least try?"

"It's way too risky. You don't understand how complicated magic can be," she said. Still trying to put him off the idea, she added, "Besides, you were perfectly fine with being a scarecrow before the idea of sex came into play."

Fiyero laughed. "It's not just that. Not that I don't want that, of course. I am, after all, still a man at heart." Elphaba laughed, unintentionally encouraging him. "It's that I can't be close to you."

The witch stopped laughing. "And why is that?"

The scarecrow gave her a knowing look, and leaned in for a hug. She returned the embrace while fighting the urge to scratch her green arms.

"It doesn't bother you at all," he whispered, "that I'm made of straw?"

Elphaba smiled. "Not in the slightest," she said, kissing his burlap cheek. "It's what's on the inside that counts, you know."

"I know," he said, "but in case you hadn't noticed, my insides are straw too."

She sighed. "You know what I meant. I was talking about here," she said, pointing to where his heart would be (if it was still in his chest, that is). "Your heart, the most human thing I've ever seen."

"The rest of me could be human too," Fiyero said. "And then we could.…" He let the sentence trail off as he kissed her neck.

"I'm not changing you back," said Elphaba, as calmly as possible. His stitched lips continued to scratch at her neck as she spoke. "If you somehow turn out human again, which I doubt, who is to say your wounds will be healed? Plus, it's likely that something will go wrong and you'll end up an Animal, or worse."

Yero smirked. "If I come out a Frog, we'll both be green!"

The woman glared at him as he laughed. "I'm sorry," he said, clearly not meaning it. "That was in bad taste."

"You just don't get it, Yero! I almost lost you once, and it's not happening again." A tear rolled down her cheek, not burning like the rumors said. The only pain it caused was in her chest.

"No, Fae! Please don't cry!" He looked genuinely upset, which is difficult when your face is stitched into one expression. "I give up, okay? We don't have to talk about it again."

"Thank you, Yero my hero." But she continued to cry, the thought of losing him fresh in her mind, paired with her feeling of separation. There would always be that wall, separating the witch from the scarecrow, to whom she was hopelessly devoted.