AN ~ So this past year at the Broadway Flea Market, the Wicked table was selling these necklaces and the charms were actual buttons from the coats of the guard costumes. Of course, I got one. Then I got to thinking of love tokens... Fiyeraba fluff ahead!

Disclaimer (because everyone knows none of us owns Wicked or its characters, but they're so fun to write): Hypothetically speaking, if I was Elphaba... wouldn't I get credit for something?

Slipping past the perimeter night watch had been easy. It was the leaving that was going to be difficult. She was kneeling beside him in the middle of his camp, slumbering soldiers scattered about. Gold firelight reflected off his wavy hair, tiny blue diamond tattoos sweeping across his face. She didn't understand how or why it had happened, but she couldn't deny that it had. She cared for this man more than any other being alive, wishing him every happiness in his life even if she was not meant to be a part of it. She was hesitant to call this feeling 'love', for love had never had a place for her in its heart, so she wasn't sure she entirely knew what it was.

She withdrew a small knife from her bag, the texture of its Vinkun carving on the handle smooth in her hand. The blade slid easily from its sheath, but she still flitted her eyes upward to make certain that he was still unaware. Then she went for the pocket button of his coat. It was an oblong octagonal shape, black onyx bordered with gold and inset with the gilded crest of Oz. Freeing the button from the coat's restraining threads, she stashed her prize with her other treasures, her mother's green bottle and the Grimmerie. Then she very carefully slipped her hand into the less than secure pocket in search for her second quarry. Her fingers brushed the silky petals of Glinda's flower clip, clamped down on it, and reclaimed it. Then she carefully replaced the twice stolen hair piece with the knife and a small shred of folded paper.

Looking back up at the sleeping man, she wanted nothing more than to stay beside him until he woke, but every second she remained was a risk to them both. Before she tore herself away, she leaned down and kissed his brow. With one final loving gaze, she vanished as silently as she'd appeared.

His hand closed once more on his returned knife and the note she had left him. So she had accepted the invitation to play his little game. It was the last time he was on night watch, about a week ago, when he'd been stealthily exploring the forest under a full moon that he had almost literally stumbled upon her. He knew that any small noise would wake her up, so he simply didn't make any. He stole her hairclip from Glinda and left his knife in its stead so that she would know he had been there. The very next day he had caught her spying on his camp from high up in a tree. She'd nearly been startled to the point of escaping, but made no motion to call the others. Instead he quickly flashed the pink trinket for her to see, grinned playfully, and slipped it back in his pocket before walking away. Now she had made her move, but had taken the game a step farther. How clever she had been to spy on them to discover when next he would take night watch.

He waited at the appointed location, a small clearing close by where a spring bubbled into a little pool. He waited.

And waited, and waited, and waited, but refused to give up on her. Undoubtedly she was making sure he had come alone. Why should he blame her? He had let her go once, but he had been alone. This could be a carefully set trap, one of her own making in asking him to meet her.

She materialized out of the dark like an apparition. He fancied her for a woodland sprite from old Vinkun lore with her exotic skin lustrous in the moonlight. He noted the button she had taken dangling from a string tied about her neck and smiled.

"What are you playing at, Tiggular?" she asked harshly. He adopted a mock-wounded expression, "You don't like my game of trade?"

"It happens to be a little dangerous when it's my turn," was the terse reply.

"And yet, you still want to play," he smirked, pointedly looking at the new charm resting on her chest.

"You're supposed to be hunting me, dimwit! Answer my question, what are you doing?"

He grinned at her, unable to help himself. She was such a spitfire, and he adored her for it. "Well, if you can come up with a better way for this Captain to court the infamous Wicked Witch of the West, I'm all ears."

He watched her process what he said and try to grasp his meaning, but she was having a hard time. Typical. So he decided to help her understand. He closed the space between them and first kissed her brow as she had done the previous night when she had thought him asleep. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her mouth. She was hesitant to respond, but with some coaxing she began to kiss him back. Her arms slowly raised to wrap around his neck and his closed in about her slender body, both treasuring each moment they had together.

Snap!

The lovers separated abruptly, his hand reaching for his knife, both of hers spreading and threatening to release the power within her. They waited with baited breath for their attacker to appear and seconds later a small raccoon waddled out of a nearby bush, ignoring them entirely. There were no more sounds, no more hidden presences spying on them. She let out a breath and looked at her prince, then started to laugh off the anxiety. He joined her, taking her waist and pulling her to him once more. He let his forehead fall and rest against her own, the tips of their noses just touching.

"I should get back before anyone wakes up and notices that I'm not guarding them from the Witch," he said softly.

She glanced down at his hands holding her firmly, then back up at his eyes smiling, "You appear to have captured me thus preventing my evil plans of attacking your camp, sir."

He chuckled and kissed her gently once more. "Don't run too far from me, my beautiful Fae."

She smiled smugly, "Don't worry. I'll find you when I feel like playing again."