A/N: Much thanks to Lady Tiggular for support.

Wicked is disclaimed. The poem is mine.

I hope you enjoy the story. It's a lot deeper than it seems. You'll see when it gets moving.

Blackened leaves fall about,

Brushing my roughened face.

I know not who stands beside me now.

I keep myself erect, distinct,

I hold my head up tall.

I leave all love and unloved behind me,

I say goodbye.

I keep my heart stable in my chest,

It shan't fail me now.

A healing wound deep within my breast,

It can't slow me down.

The world beyond my fathom moves,

Faster than I ever hoped.

It keeps me sane, sound.

I had hoped to return to the living course,

Individuals flippant in heart.

But I have chosen the stronger path…

I don't smell.

I don't breathe.

My heart doesn't beat.

I have nothing beneath my feet.

Time stops for me.

The world moves around me,

But I stand still.

"This is serious," she snapped. "I need you to promise me that—"

"I still don't understand," Fiyero said. "Why must I stay some place all alone, on one of the most romantic times of the year, in a bathtub?" He put on a sullen face and sniffled emotively.

Elphie pulled on her skirts, to his great dismay, and then strapped on a boot. "I never said you had to be alone. I just said you had to be out of sight from crowds… public places."

Fiyero narrowed his eyes mischievously. "Oh, really? You're saying I could… hire someone?" Knowing she would—on normal circumstances—disapprove, he pestered her more. "Someone to… say…"

"Yes, Fiyero. You're still being unethical whether it's committing adultery with me or another," she said dryly. "It doesn't matter who you do it with, it only matters if you do it. And you most certainly have." She yawned, by accident, and tried to cover up the involuntary action with a luxurious stretch.

Fiyero pondered this for a moment, then took her other boot and hid it behind his back while she was occupied with working her muscles. "And, you're saying you wouldn't mind me being 'unethical' with another?"

Once done stretching, she slipped on gloves that tightly fit her hands and showed each sharp or soft curve of bone and tissue. "I'm only saying that I can't control who your lover… lovers are." Her cloak swooped onto her back lying across the thin, seemingly emaciated flesh of her shoulders. "I'm not your wife."

Elphaba's hair swooped down her back, cascading like a silken waterfall. Fiyero's eyes twitched. Then he stood up and combed it through his fingers. "Are you sure? Let's play house. I'll be the daddy, you'll be the mommy and Malky… she'll be the deranged cat from hell."

Elphaba's eyes flashed where Fiyero couldn't see them. "And who'll be the child?"

Fiyero, baffled, said, "Why would we need a child? We don't have one. We already have all of the parts filled out."

"Well, if we're going to play the mommy and the daddy," she reasoned, "We would need someone to be a mommy and daddy to, is all."

Fiyero nodded slowly.

"Just say out of sight until everything's settled," she said quickly, changing the subject. "Maybe that girl you hire could be the child…" she added on quietly, smiling.

"Can you possibly fathom the magnitude of how repulsive that is?"

"I can only imagine," Elphie said. "Now, where's my boot?" And she began to grope around for her other walking boot. "Work waits… I need to be there by the time the sun is overhead…"

Fiyero nudged it a bit, so that it would be harder to locate. "What exactly are you doing 'at work' anyway? You're always so quiet about it…"

Elphie snorted. "And I'm going to stay quiet about it; it is nothing that you need worry yourself with." Then her beautiful hair vanished beneath a broadly-rimmed hat. "Understand?"

He rolled his eyes. "Could you simply tell me what sort of operation it is? Not the whole of it, just the main idea," Fiyero said. "Are you going to bomb something? Sabotage? Assassina—?"

At this, she gave the faintest traces of a flinch, and Fiyero knew he had found a sore spot, which meant that an assassination was tonight's operation. His excitement grew. "Who is it, Fae? Who are you going to get? Perhaps the Wizard?"

Elphaba shook her head. "I told you, I'm not letting anything fly…" She whacked him on the head with an umbrella, taking back her boot and slipping it on. "And that's what you get for trying to delay me."

Fiyero rubbed his head and was about to take her scarf, but refrained, deciding he had learned his lesson… unless he took the umbrella first…

A moment later, she glared at him and snatched her scarf away from his hungry gaze. "Down boy, sit, stay." And she patted his head fondly with a smirk plastered across her face. "Good boy." He growled suggestively.

Malky hissed.

Elphaba, with a happy smirk at Malky, whose tail was now fluffing up angrily, pulled something into her cloak. For a moment, she fiddled with it underneath the fabric, and then, finally satisfied with her preparations, she turned back to Fiyero and said, "Now, what do you say?"

Fiyero blinked a couple of times. "You look absolutely divine, my lady." Elphie didn't respond, she just kept staring at him.

"Dangerously sexy?" Nothing.

"Good enough to—" She hastily put a finger to his lips.

"You look—"

"Green," she finished lamely. "Green and primed… to my best ability." And Fiyero nodded.

After much unwanted tomfoolery on Fiyero's part, Elphie left the apartment, unconditionally annoyed at the man, but—to which she had no idea—grinning from ear to ear. She was perplexed to as why she had so carelessly and absentmindedly provided Fiyero with the knowledge that she loved him, but ungratefully accepted her fate. She felt stupid, insecure, and almost apprehensive about what she was going to do; the operation which was immensely important to their future success. She needed to concentrate on the tactics and plans they had gone over, but her mind was set on if she had really meant what she had said to him. She couldn't focus on anything else.

Elphaba turned a sharp corner into a dark passageway, laden with sticky cobwebs that threatened to cling to her face. She nimbly avoided them, ducking and swerving like a lanky money, and steadily kept pace until surfacing in the middle of a bright square. It bustled lively with men, women, and children alike, all draped in winter garb. She also carefully avoided these too, politely ignoring anyone and everyone and undisturbed by the looks she was given; old habits die fast, and she would never fit it.

She pulled her scarf higher up her face and her hood lower. Trying to disguise herself as a beggar or other, she also slumped lower in posture, in addition getting rid of her rather arrogant expression she prided herself on. With a vaguely contented look instead, she slumped down the street, and settled herself right near the theatre's entrance, like someone who wished to enter, but had not the right kind of money to do so, so instead strained to listen outside. She was amongst five others, but stationed near the front of the group so she could easily do what had been planned.

For a while she waited in deathly silence, still engaged with something under her cape, but keeping her eyes innocently trained on a schoolyard across the way. People walked by without a second glance at her; she was blending in quite well and she felt mildly proud of herself. At least two years of dedication to rigid training had not gone to waste.

She also took to talking slightly with the other people crowded around the theatre, attempting to muster up any information she could. Apparently, it seemed that her target would make her appearance soon, very soon. It took much self-control for Elphaba to keep her eyes expressionless, or else she was sure they would portray blood lust.

Elphie's eyes widened of their own accord when finally in the midst of her target. She bent her spine forward more and reached into the depths of her robe while the flaccid skirts and body of Madame Morrible approached the theatre. The folds of her skin wobbling on her cheeks and chin gave Elphaba the shudders. She was reminded way too clearly of the days in Shiz, being harassed in secret by the Head. Being magicked into something she had no force over; something she could not control, even though she fought it. This woman had unceremoniously reigned over Crage Hall, in ways the girls never knew, and never would. Thinking about it these days still gave Elphaba headaches and a mildly upset stomach. She wanted to rid the world of this colossal whale-of-a-woman. This gave Elphie confidence in her actions-to-be and she was certain of her readiness. Her grip tightened on whatever she had concealed in her dark peninsula.

Madame Morrible—now halfway across from the theatre, suddenly stopped. Elphaba was confused and quickly wrenched her hand from under her cloak, trying for natural. She looked from side to side and saw a mob of children flood out around the large lady. They crawled underneath her sarong, busy in a game with each other and giggled at her when she smiled. Elphaba dipped her head in mental pain, shaking. Elphie—at one time—did reach back in to grab whatever she had hidden, but once again stopped. In good time, Morrible presumed walking toward the theatre, but now she had to evade the children in their play. Elphie only watched hopelessly. Soon, she was inside, safe from any harm, and Elphie's operation was classified as: failed.

Elphaba shook herself angrily, unable to conceal any fury she felt. She slammed her fist against the dirt, much to the surprise of her fellow poor peoples, and got up, decided to spare a nod to the rest of the group and stalked off.

She took deep and solemn breaths. She called herself weak in the depths of her own mind. She called herself many things, and wondered blatantly why she didn't do it. But it was clear as to why: who was she to commit an assassination in front of mere children? Damaging their little minds wouldn't do any good to Oz. She knew from experience that seeing death in its prime was a harsh and cruel blow to the mind and body itself. Elphie thought sadly of Doctor Dillamond and dipped her head once in respect, sighing.

Elphaba scanned the crowd, angrily, hoping, if by any chance, to see someone who looked disappointed, angry, or irritated greatly. But instead, she saw one person she had hoped with all her heart she would not see. She was stopped in her tracks and took another mind-boggling blow to her heart.

Elphaba was inundated with misery, and, upon seeing suspicious figures round the corner quietly, she knew she was immediately pushed into danger and more, as was Fiyero.

Elphaba tried not to look too hasty while fleeing from the crowd. She pushed her way carefully in the direction of Fiyero and grabbed him by the sleeve, taking them both down the ally from which she had emerged originally. She took care not to look behind her back, so as to not give the impression she was afraid of being followed.

She pinned him against the wall, ignoring the gentle gaze, full of affection he aimed at her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, absolutely furious. "I thought I had made it perfectly clear that you were to stay secluded, somewhere safe. This definitely does not classify as 'safe', Fiyero!"

"Well," he scoffed. "You didn't exactly specify where I had to be. I figure I'm safe in a crowd... you know, with other people."

"I need you to stay still for one moment, all right?"

Fiyero nodded, and Elphaba quickly looked around.

"What ever happened to the bathtub!?" she asked urgently, taking him off the wall finally and suddenly dragging him away.

He shrugged. "We could easily bring one out here. Doing dirty in public pays good money, my dear." Elphaba rolled her eyes and urged him on.