Elphaba sighed tiredly as she returned to her tiny old apartment, nestled away on the far side of the city. It wasn't much, but it was home, and there was no place like it. She had just finished another long shift at work under a cruel tyrant of a boss and the only reason she hadn't flipped out yet was because she really did need that job. Much as she wanted to rip his throat out, she couldn't exactly afford the repercussions.

Elphaba sighed again, only this time in annoyance, and she remembered all the reasons why she despised that nasty old man. It didn't take her long to come up with a very thorough list. But then she shook her head. Determined not to let him get to her and ruin the rest of her night off, she did her best to put him out of her mind and instead wandered over to her little fridge. What she found inside was dismal.

"Cabbage soup," she deadpanned, but that was literally all that was left in the whole fridge. Until she went out shopping, which wouldn't be until her next paycheck in about four days, cabbage soup was all she had. Knowing this, she pulled the large container out and, with a grumble, warmed some of its contents up. It really had been a rough day for the poor green girl.

But Elphaba had only just started to eat when she heard a loud knock echo across her apartment. Funny thing was, though, the knock wasn't coming from the door. It was coming from... the window? The moment Elphaba looked over to the large panels of glass that made up about half of the far wall of the apartment, she let out a small shriek of surprise. There, a little blond woman balanced precariously on the edge of the roof. She tapped on the glass again and Elphaba, though half stunned, sprinted over, trying to open the window before the poor girl fell.

"What in Oz are you doing?!" Elphaba demanded as she yanked the window open. The blond girl stumbled gratefully inside.

"I'm returning this!" she cried as she straightened herself back up and offered Elphaba a black cloak.

"My cloak!" recognition sparked in Elphaba's eyes. "How did you-?"

"The boss went and trashed it after your little stunt today, but that was all. It wasn't too hard for me to fish it back out," the blond replied, a smug smile creeping across her face as she said this. And as she said this, Elphaba's eyes widened in remembrance. This girl was a coworker of hers at her job. Her name was Glinda.

"So! How have you been?" Glinda asked, making herself quite at home in Elphaba's little hovel. Elphaba blinked, having not planned to have a coworker over for a visit. But Glinda was off, and Elphaba wasn't quite sure how to tell her to get out.

"I've been... well... I guess," the green-skinned girl stammered as Glinda brushed on by to explore the apartment.

"Eeew! Cabbage soup?" Glinda demanded when she caught sight of what was on Elphaba's chipping wood dinner table.

"Well, it's not as if I have the budget for anything better," Elphaba replied, suddenly miffed by her guest's brusque judgement.

"Then come over to my place!" Glinda turned around with a smile, totally unaware of how her remark had offended Elphaba. This sudden invitation caught Elphaba off guard, though, and her miffed expression changed into one of complete surprise.

"Really?" she asked, genuinely shocked.

"Do you have anything better to do?" Glinda scoffed again and Elphaba had to admit, she didn't. So it was off to Glinda's! What a strange evening this was turning out to be...

As Elphaba would find, the rooftop trip over from her apartment to Glinda's wasn't nearly as dangerous as she thought. It still wasn't something one could do without paying attention, but it wasn't like walking on a tightrope. The only reason Glinda had been staggering was because of Elphaba's cloak, which had unbalanced her every time the wind would blow even slightly. But now that Glinda was empty-handed again, she was able to move with a quick and nimble grace from the roof of Elphaba's home across the gutters to the roof of her own.

Glinda's apartment was almost as bad as Elphaba's, but at least Glinda had a full fridge. She opened the doors with gusto, smirking proudly when Elphaba's jaw dropped at all the good things Glinda had inside.

"Help yourself!" she cried, gesturing to the fridge. Elphaba needed no further command.

Halfway through the meal, however, Elphaba finally asked Glinda the question that had been on her mind since Glinda invited her over.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "I mean, I am grateful, but why? Why are you being so kind?"

"To thank you for standing up to the boss," Glinda replied. "You may have only lost your cloak, but we all thought for sure that you'd lose your job as well. Consider this my way of thanking you for taking one for the team and risking your neck to save all of ours!"

"Ah, it was nothing," Elphaba shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the praise. "Just trying to do what's right."

"Ah! Ever the noble martyr," Glinda laughed. "I like you!" and Elphaba grinned back shyly.

From then on, a friendship was born, and these strange, rooftop visits back and forth between apartments became routine. Elphaba would crawl from her window onto the ledge and balance her way over to Glinda's window and slide right on in. Or Glinda would hop out onto her ledge and strut on over to Elphaba's window and hop right inside. They'd chat and joke around on some days, trying to lighten the load life had thrust upon them. They would cry on each other on other days, though, when the burden became too much and jokes could not heal the wounds. Or they would rant to each other, complaining bitterly about life just because they needed to rant. Or they would celebrate the little things in life, lifting each other up whenever it was possible. And they shared anything and everything: food, water, clothing, warmth, shelter, anything. And sometimes the rooftop visits would last entire days, extending into cold nights where the two would snuggle up together in one bed. But other times, the visits would be very brief, one girl swooping in to grab something she needed before swooping back out again. Neither girl locked her window anymore.

But then, about a year or so later, Glinda moved out.

"I got a new job!" the bubbly little blond shouted excitedly the second she heard Elphaba swinging into the apartment. Elphaba felt her own heart plummet the moment Glinda's happy declaration sank in, but she did her best to smile instead.

"I'm so happy for you!" the green girl lied. Glinda was too ecstatic to see her friend's hurt and envy.

"I'm leaving later today!" she said cheerfully. "I was just packing now," she gestured to a small stack of boxes behind her. Elphaba, unsure of how to respond, only nodded. That was when Glinda finally realized how rude she must've sounded, bragging about getting a nicer job while Elphaba would have to remain here in the dead-end one.

"I'll miss you," Glinda offered at last, having the grace to look sincere and apologetic.

"Me too," Elphaba replied, but her voice was unreadable. There was a note of genuineness in it, but her overall tone was harsh and cold. Not wanting to part on bad terms, Glinda quickly darted over to one of the larger boxes she was packing and dug around until she pulled out a hairclip, a large pink flower resting upon the center of it. It was old and somewhat tattered and entirely fake, but it had been one of Glinda's most prized possessions and she had worn it to work every single day. She gave it to Elphaba, then, and Elphaba took it.

"Wait one moment," the green girl said. Every word sounded like it was hard for her to speak, that mixture of resentment and genuine loneliness making it hard to tell if she was mad at Glinda, or terrified of what would happen after she was gone. Glinda wanted to say something more, but before she could, Elphaba had scrambled back out the window and over the rooftop back to her own apartment.

A few minutes later, she returned. In her hand was a little green bottle. It had belonged to her mother, and it was her own most prized possession. Glinda was the only other person in all of Oz to know of its existence. Now, she was becoming the bottle's next owner.

"Are you sure?" Glinda breathed as she took the bottle delicately from Elphaba. Even though she understood why Elphaba was giving her the bottle, she still felt a little bit afraid at having such a responsibility. There was a different between a little pink hairclip and someone's last memory of their mother, after all. But when Elphaba only closed Glinda's fingers around the bottle, Glinda knew the answer was clear. A few hours later, it was like she'd never even existed. Elphaba locked her window that night and she never opened it again.

But a few years later, Elphaba managed to get her own better job and rise up through the world. She was still far from rich and successful, but she was definitely doing better than before. For one thing, she managed to get a better apartment! It still wasn't very big, but at least it didn't look like a dingy old attic. But there were days when the apartment felt painfully large... and empty. As long as it had been since Elphaba had last seen Glinda, the green girl had never quite gotten over the loss of her best and only friend. In fact, even still, sometimes, the green girl would just stare out her window and imagine seeing Glinda's graceful little figure, dancing across the rooftop and through the window and into her arms.

"If only!" the green girl remarked bitterly, speaking aloud just to fill the oppressive silence of her empty apartment. But even as she said this, she rose from her place at the dinner table and walked over to the window, pushing aside the curtains to stare out longingly into the evening air. Even though this was a different apartment, it had a very similar design as the old one and Elphaba could already imagine Glinda's figure rising out of the window of the apartment across from hers, treading across the rooftops and-

"What in Oz!?" right in the middle of Elphaba's little fantasies, a figure glided across the window Elphaba had been staring at. Elphaba would recognize that pink-clad figure anywhere...

In record timing, Elphaba had practically vaulted out of her window, climbing up the fire escape and across the ledge that led her right to her neighbor's window. She didn't hesitate to rap her knuckles against the glass panes.

"Gah! What in Oz are you doing?!" that painfully familiar voice demanded as the window swung open. Elphaba had managed to cover her face and hands in the split second before Glinda caught a glimpse of her. Silently, she clambered inside of the apartment.

"Well?" Glinda demanded, when her guest did not respond. Her voice had risen with a guarded fear. Because she could not see any green skin, she had no idea who she was looking at and, from her perspective, some creepy person all clad in black had just broken into her apartment. The moment one hand snaked out of that black cloak, however, a pink flower clip in its hand, all became clear.

"I'm returning this," the figure said, and then she removed the hood that had concealed her emerald face. Glinda thought for sure she'd faint!

A few minutes later, however, the two were having dinner together just like old times, and it was almost like they'd never been apart at all.

"Oh! I'm so glad to see you again!" Glinda exclaimed at last, having finished a very long and long-winded story about all that had happened to her since last she and Elphaba met. Glinda had since donned her pink hairclip again and the little green bottle was back in Elphaba's hands once more.

"Ah! Ever the devoted friend!" Elphaba joked. "I like you!" and Glinda grinned happily back.

From then on, their friendship continued, and these rooftop visits back and forth between apartments became routine again. Elphaba would crawl from her window onto the ledge and balance her way over to Glinda's window and slide right on in. Or Glinda would hop out onto her ledge and strut on over to Elphaba's window and hop right inside. They'd chat and joke around on some days, trying to lighten the load life had thrust upon them. They would cry on each other on other days, though, when the burden became too much and jokes could not heal the wounds. Or they would rant to each other, complaining bitterly about life just because they needed to rant. Or they would celebrate the little things in life, lifting each other up whenever it was possible. And they shared anything and everything: food, water, clothing, warmth, shelter, anything. And sometimes the rooftop visits would last entire days, extending into cold nights where the two would snuggle up together in one bed. But other times, the visits would be very brief, one girl swooping in to grab something she needed before swooping back out again. Neither girl locked her window anymore and neither ever would ever again.

AN: This is based off all the stories I hear about friends who live in the city climbing across rooves and gutters to climb through each other's windows to hang out. There's something very playful and romantic about that idea, so here's what came out of it.