Disclaimer: the only Wicked things I own are (legal) copies of the book and the OBC recording. Nothing else, sadly.

A/N: okay, this is the first Wicked fanfic I publish, I hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry if they seem too OOC. I apologize for any mistakes you may find, and I took some liberties and wrote a few sentences in an imaginary Vinkun dialect. Critics and suggestions are always welcome!

A happy and thoroughly relaxed sigh was the first thing that came out of her mouth; her eyelids fluttered open of their own accord when they felt the light from the outside world, and her emerald limbs tightened their hold on the body of her giant pillow of a boyfriend. She placed a kiss on his right shoulder, resisting the urge of following it with a teasing bite. Maybe later.

She glanced up at his sleepy face quickly and then looked at the clock on the wall across their bed – seven-thirty, it read. Apparently she couldn't sleep past eight even during vacation. The green girl knew he would complain about it later. Probably whine and pout like a five year old, claiming to feel totally offended by that fact (something to do with his male pride being hurt for not exhausting her enough on the previous night, to which she would just roll her eyes), but she knew it was all pretend; it always was. He loved everything about her, even if she had some trouble accepting and understanding the reasons for that herself. He found even the smallest thing, like waking up early even when she wasn't really a morning person, fascinating and intriguing.

Over the eight months since they had officially started dating, the boy probably asked her more questions than all her professors combined – and that was quite a feature. At first it had been odd to her, how he would simply throw "what do you think that happens after we die?" in the middle of a conversation, but after a while it became one of her favorite things about him. "What are your favorite smells?" he said once during one of their countless studying sessions. She smiled at the curious grin on his face and looked out the window for a second before answering "well... rain, freshly baked strawberry pie" she hesitated, chewing her lip, "and you." Needless to say he hadn't let her concentrate much on her book after that.

The green girl smirked at the memory. They really were a disgustifyingly cheesy couple sometimes (as Boq had once complained), weren't they? She shook her head in disbelief at her own ridiculousness.

As if sensing she was dwelling on their relationship again, her boyfriend moved, his hold on her tightening – much like her own move earlier –, completely unconscious as he showed no sign of waking up.

After some wiggling and gentle twists of her own, she managed free her left arm and used it to support her head as she looked down and examined the face of her "not-so-scandalicious-anymore" prince. He chose that moment to turn his head in her direction, his next breath fanning the space between her exposed breasts and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, even as a shiver ran down her spine; their connection made a teasing banter happen even when she wasn't saying a word and he was sound asleep, and if that might have made her scared and uneasy once, now it was just... home. Much like everything else related to him.

Although the night before wasn't the first time they had had sex (it was the fifth, not that she had been counting), it was the first time they had done it and she had been able to enjoy every second of it, without feeling any of the ache that came from submitting the body to such physical activities. With the pain gone, the force of their connection hit her like never before. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, replaying the feeling for a moment. It was rather overwhelming, thinking of it. And it wasn't just the orgasm, even if that had been a particularly delicious part. The looks, the tender touches, the whispered words. The attention and care of exploring every single part of each other's bodies and souls, finding new tastes, new sensations, new feelings. Being completely in sync. And something told her that this – they – would only get better.

She opened her eyes again, observing orbs once more falling on the sleeping boyish face that turned her into a puddle more times than she would ever admit. The boyish face that knew her more than anyone ever would, understood her in ways she never imagined someone could. It was silly, but he really was her prince charming, like in the ancient tales on her girliest childhood books (she would never say this aloud, either).

Her boyfriend sighed and whispered mumbled words, which made the green girl chuckle silently. He did that occasionally, talking during sleep.

Just then he smiled goofily, saying "green is my favorite color, too" before turning his face to his left side, away from her.

And that's when it hit her. The realization. The sheer, mystic force of it all sucked the air from her lungs. This was it; the moment she had been waiting for. The moment to use the words she had been thinking for a long time, and had been practising how to say properly since last week, when she finally found a special way to say them.

It was time to wake him up.

She slides her right hand over his bare chest, from his belly button to his broad shoulders and then to his face, tracing his profile. He wrinkles his nose, as if to brush away a fly and she grins. Her lips are next, placing wet kisses through his neckline up until his right ear. He moves, and she knows consciousness is slowly seeping into his brain.

She whispers him the words for the first time, biting his earlobe right after. He hums, mumbling some incomprehensible words in his mother language.

He blinks his eyes open, squinting them close again because of the sudden brightness. Then he hears his favorite sound in the whole world. A laugh, one that he is now very familiar with, fills his body. He turns in the direction it came from, grin already in place.

He takes a minute to admire the sight he finds, blinking lazily, drinking his marvelous, green skinned girlfriend in. He notices that aside from the lingering smile, she wears nothing else (thanks to the summer morning, sheets were not really necessary), and his grin becomes lustful, but morphs into a chuckle when she rolls her eyes. He wants to stay in this moment for as long as he lives.

A few seconds go by with them just staring at each other, eyelashes blinking now and then.

"Morning", he says, voice rough with sleep. Her response comes in the form of a beaming curl of lips. He wants to kiss her, but there's something he needs to say before. "You know, I had this curious dream just now."

She blushes a little, biting her lip and looking down. "Oh?"

He slides the few inches of distance that separate their bodies, his hand traveling down her back and finding solace at the base of her column. "Yeah, this little bird, a cute emerald thing, flew over me, stopped at the shell of my ear" he moved his head so that his lips now ghosted her jawline right where it met her ear. "And then it said a very curious thing, but I don't think I heard it correctly."

She gasps when he nips the spot his breath had been playing with. The prince smirks, but continues to lazily whisper his words, "And I was thinking that maybe, if I'm really, really lucky, it wasn't a dream at all. And maybe my beautiful girlfriend happens to know the bird's message, too. Hmm?" He caressed her cheek with his nose, then pulled back to look at her brown eyes. "Say it to me, Elphaba."

She thinks she's never felt shivers as violent as the ones she's feeling right now, and she knows that he knows, and that he heard her timid confession the first time. But she sees, too, that he needs to hear it again, with his adoring yet fearful and anxious blue eyes fixated on her own brown ones.

Elphaba takes a (somewhat selfish) moment to let them both feel the anticipation of this moment. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and his eyes follow the movement. Her mouth curves, mischievous. And then she says it.

"Tar Dzerknu lav, Fiyero."

And right then and there, the prince knew that this was a scene he would never forget. He dreamt of the day Elphaba would tell him that she loved him, but not even in his wildest scenarios he had imagined she would say it to him in a summer day in his homeland, their bodies still bare from the night before, and using words from the language he first spoke, the language of his heart and his soul. Fiyero could feel every cell of his body awakening as the melody of her voice washed over him, filling him with the love he felt for – and received from – the amazing girl in his arms.

"Say it again."

He never saw a grin wider than the one that took over her features, the tip of her tongue showing between her teeth. She reached out and ran her fingers between his soft hair locks, cupping his cheek after a few strokes. Elphaba rubbed her nose with his. He loved when she did that.

"Tar Dzerknu lav. I love you." The green girl whispered against his mouth, placing a feather light kiss there. And then she said the words again, and again, and again until he couldn't resist anymore and brought her in for a real kiss, morning breath and all.

"Dzerknu odga lav, Fae." Love you too, Fae.

She cupped his cheek again, kissing and nipping at his jaw, his earlobe, his Adam's apple. Fiyero shuddered, a low moan escaping his lips.

Elphaba smiled, burying her face in the crook of his neck – her favorite place in the world. "Good morning."

He held her, allowing his fingers to get lost in the middle of her dark hair strands. "Shvantë, ahr dzern. Rotsh lav."

She looked up at him from her spot. "I know 'shvantë' means good morning and 'rotsh lav' is thank you, if I'm not mistaken. But what does the other thing mean? Arh...?"

Fiyero smiled and kissed her emerald cheek. "Ahr dzern. It means my love."

"Ahr dzern", she repeated, testing the words. "I like it."

He chuckled at her excitement. "Well, you'd better. You're gonna hear me call you that a lot."

Elphaba rolled her eyes and shook her head, but it was all for show and they both knew it. The grin plastered on her face and the way her whole body responded to the term were proof enough that she rather liked it.

"You're a fool, master Tiggular."

"Tar jáborg er lav. I'm a fool for you." She raised a disbelieving eyebrow and he laughed.

"Really? You're gonna use the cheesy lines in your mother language, too?"

"Yad. You bet. Especially now that I know you apparently have been taking classes behind my back?"

She shrugged, like she did when she was being modest. "Not really, I just thought it'd be nice to surprise you one of these days. Make it more special, somehow. So I looked up a few words. I don't know. You've waited so long for me to say that I... That I love you. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. And I'm sorry it took me all this time."

"No, no, rastort ča. Stop that. I already told you I wanted you to take your time, I never want you to change, or feel forced to do anything for me. And stop apologizing for doing amazing, wonderful things. We've been over this conversation already; I refuse to have it again right now. Not when we're alone and naked on this beautiful morning where you woke me up saying that you love me using my birth language and sweet Oz, Elphaba, I swear this right here is by far the hottest thing that has ever happened in my entire life. And that does include that time we made out on the ladies bathroom at the Ozdust because you were jealous."

"I was not jealous!"

"Really, Fae? Really? You still insisting on that?" He raised an eyebrow at her flustered glare. "So, can we please stop talking right now? Because I may or may not be having a lot of inappropriate thoughts right now and I'd very much like to show you how thoroughly involved in all of them you are, ahr dzern."

She bit her lip, looking down at him. By now she was on top of him, her whole body already on fire with the anticipation of his promises. But she still had one last thing she needed to say.

"You know, Yero", she started in a sultry tone, her hands moving up to grasp his hair. "There is one last sentence I really wanted to tell you."

His swallowed at the sight of her on top of him using that tone of voice and his hands automatically grabbed her waist, making sure she wouldn't go anywhere. This girl would be the death of him. "Oh?"

"Yeah. And I think now might be the perfect time for it."

She lowered her head until her mouth reached his right ear, and then she whispered the words he never, not in a million years, imagined she would say to him.

"Jherknu ahrnè, Fiyero."

His eyes widened. She didn't have to say it twice.

A/N: I'll leave the translation of Elphaba's last words to your own imagination ;)