AN: This chapter is a lot of flashbacks. After this our favorite couple will dwell in the present more than in the past, though I will show some flashbacks to their friendship/love affair before Defying Gravity. Flashbacks are in italics.

Black storm clouds billowed across the western sky and raindrops splattered my stony seat. I was just west of Shiz University and just hidden from the farseeing, west-facing windows where authority figures lurked—more ominous than the clouds could ever be. Funny how they watched for her, just like I did . . . except they were hoping to kill her and I was hoping to kiss her again.

"I'm not so good on my own, Fae. I guess I never was," I admitted to the western clouds, "you were always what I was looking for, even when I wasn't looking for anything," I trailed off with a self-deprecating laugh as I was pulled into my memories.

Elphie was upset. I hated that; it was worse than when Galinda was—Elphie's being upset meant something. It meant passion like I'd never seen. Oz, I was upset. The caged Lion reminded me a little of Elphie, passionate and beautiful but caged by her green skin and others' impressions of her.

I went with her. It wasn't like I had any choice.

"Careful! Don't shake him!" she yelled.

"I'm not," I retorted, steadying the cage just in case I was actually shaking the little Cub.

"We can't just let him loose anywhere, you know," she continued, disregarding my attempt at peacemaking, "we have got to find some place safe!"

"I realize that! You—you think I'm really stupid, don't you?" I asked. I wasn't sure any answer had ever meant more to me.

"No," she said, "not really stupid."

"Why is it that every time you speak you're causing some kind of commotion?" I asked, and instantly regretted it as hurt flitted across her gorgeous, green face.

"I don't cause commotions," she snapped, her voice as bitter as black coffee "I am one."

"Well—that's for sure," I stuttered.

"Oh, so you think I should just keep my mouth shut, is that what you're saying?"

Sweet Oz, the girl was infuriating.

"No! What I'm saying is just—" I tried.

"Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I want to care this much?"

She turned away, and I could almost see her tears. I couldn't do anything right with Elphie; I was fascinated by her, and by my own inability to understand her. I . . . Oz, I loved her.

"Look, all I wante—"

"Do you ever think how much easier life would be if I didn—"

"Do you ever let anyone else talk?" I just wanted to tell her . . . I wasn't sure what I wanted to tell her, but I definitely didn't want to fight.

"Oh . . . sorry."

She was beautiful. I'd never really realized before. She was more than sexy, she was really truly beautiful.

"Look, I just wanted—"

"But can I just say one more thing?" she begged. I was angry, and I wanted to talk, but there was no way in Oz I could resist that look on Elphaba's face. I turned around, trying to nullify the effect her pleading eyes had on me.

"You could have walked away back there," Elphie said, her voice void of all the bitterness it had held earlier. She was really trying.

"Yeah, so?" I asked, pretending I could have. Of course I couldn't have walked off and left Elphie to handle all this by herself. Did she think I was crazy?

"So, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be—"

"Excuse me?" I was almost angry again "there is no pretense here! I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."

"No, you're not," my Elphaba said, "or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

It took all my strength not to step back and stare, openmouthed like the fool I was. Instead I laughed; it sounded weak and forced. I hoped she didn't notice.

"Fine," I answered, "if you don't want my help . . ." and I started to walk away. It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. It would have been easy to walk away from Galinda, and that scared me. Galinda was my girlfriend. Wasn't I supposed to feel this way about her?

"No! I do, I do!" Elphaba exclaimed. She snatched my hand, and I thought I would melt. I'd never felt anything like her hand in mine, never realized what I was looking for every time I kissed another girl. If just touching Elphie's hand did this to me, what would it be like to—I stopped myself. I had to stop before I did something stupider than I already had. I had to . . . I lost that thought along with the heat from Elphie's hand. She'd pulled away.

"Oh, his heart is pounding," she whispered. I wondered if she was talking about me, but then I realized she had knelt beside the Cub's cage again. "I must have frightened him."

"Well, what did you mean to do?" I asked. It wasn't the question I wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing, "and why was I the only one you didn't do it to?"

I watched a thousand emotions soar through her eyes before she said, "You're bleeding."

"I am?" I asked. I didn't want to ask. I just wanted to stare at her.

"He must've scratched you."

"Yeah . . . or maybe he scratched me . . . or something," I answered slowly.

Then Elphie did the stupidest, most blessed thing she'd ever done. She reached forward and touched my face, her fingers like fire against my skin.

I stood up. I couldn't—I was about to—it wasn't—sweet Oz! Why was she doing this to me?

"Um, I'd better get to safety," I muttered, "I mean, the Cub—"

"Of course!"

"—get the Cub to safety!"

She was gone. The one person I'd spent my life and my checkered University career looking for and finally found—was gone. Who knew the outside of a University could be so lonely?

"Fiyero!" I heard her call after me. But I was running, too. I was running away from how perfect her hand had felt in mine, from how much I wanted her, my strange green Elphaba. I was running from the cruelty of life, from my past, my present, and my future. I was running from my girlfriend because she was keeping me from Elphie. And, most importantly, I was running from Elphie because she was everything I wanted and she terrified me.

I wiped rain and tears from my face.

"That was when I knew," I soliloquized irrelevantly, as if Fae could hear me from her unknown hiding place and as if she'd remember those moments exactly as I did. "I knew I'd been searching for you my whole life, and I'd finally found you. I should've known the first time I saw you."

Everyone stopped dancing and stared. I stared, too. She was . . . gorgeous and green. I glanced at my date; she looked like someone was holding a scissors to her blonde curls.

"Who in Oz is that?" I asked.

"My roommate," Galinda poked me, "please don't stare!"

"Can you help it?"

The girl had taken her ridiculous hat off and descended the staircase. I had never, in all my University parties, seen a student with confidence enough to step into a staring, snickering room with a calm face. I didn't even think the green girl was blushing, though it might be hard to tell.

In the center of the dance floor, she put her hat on again. She wasn't looking at me, and still I could feel the flame of defiance in her eyes. I thanked my lucky stars she didn't look at me; she might have incinerated me. She began to dance. I'd never seen anything like it—awkward and floppy not at all sexy, but somehow stunning. I was glad the green girl was my date's roommate. I might get to know her a little. I thought I would like that.

"I'll say this much for her," I told Galinda, "she doesn't give a twit what anyone else thinks." I liked that—my complete opposite. She must be interesting.

"Of course she does," Galinda said and I stared at her in alarm. She sounded like she was about to cry, "She just pretends not to. I feel awful."

"What? It's your fault?"

Galinda didn't answer. She just excused herself and joined the gorgeous green girl I wanted to know better.

"I should have realized that I'd been looking for you, what with the way I was drawn to you. But I was too stupid to realize I was looking for anything. Will you forgive me, Fae, if I ever find you again? Will you forgive me for taking so long to say 'I love you'?"

I leaned forward and brushed Elphie's hair away from her face, reveling in the sage-green blush my fingers drew to her cheeks.

"I love you," I breathed, searching her eyes.

"What?" She jerked away and shook her head.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Only Elphie would fail to respond—appropriately—to a confession of love I'd thought was nearly too obvious to bother confessing. Surely she knew I loved her. I hadn't been very subtle about it; I just hadn't—you know, said it yet.

"I love you," I said again, just in case she hadn't understood.

"No! You don't!"

Sweet Oz, is she crying? I asked myself—I almost voiced my question, but then I heard her sniffle.

"That's not exactly an encouraging answ—" I joked.

"Don't you dare tell me what my right answer is! I don't know what you want to hear, but I know your right answer is not 'I love you'."

She wasn't making sense. And she was crying. My Elphie was being very unlike the Elphaba I knew and loved. I opened my mouth to tell her so, but then the implications of her words slammed into my chest like a battering ram. I heard my breath hiss in, but I couldn't seem to find the words I wanted. My heartbreakingly beautiful beloved just stared at me with tearstained eyes.

"You . . . don't . . . love . . . me?" I finally managed to ask.

"I didn't say that," Elphaba took both my hands in hers "it's just not what I expected you to say. I'm not . . . I don't . . ."

"It's okay," I said, even though it wasn't. I leaned forward and kissed my Elphie—slower and sweeter than our kisses before I thought she meant—sweet Oz, I couldn't even think about what I thought she'd meant. I never wanted to live without her. I tried to channel my desperate love into my kiss, but Elphaba didn't seem to be understanding. I pulled her into my lap.

Elphaba jerked away—again, "it's not okay," she stated suddenly. She was right, but I didn't want to admit it. I hoped she didn't mean she didn't like sitting in my lap. I decided to play dumb.

"What's not okay?" I asked and cocked my head in a very Galinda-ish gesture to prove I was at least half teasing. Elphaba rolled her eyes.

"What I said, I mean . . . thanks for telling me you lo—like me. . . . I guess I mean I'm sorry I couldn't—and . . .well, I love you too," her words came out in a rush, "it's just no one's ever said that—well, no one except Galinda and she always says it right before she wants to give me a makeover or take me shopping and—"

I kissed her. I felt like I was the Wizard, presiding over Oz: Elphaba told me she loved me. Me—Fiyero—her brainless prince. When I was afraid I'd lose my thoughts in the wonderfulness of Elphaba, I pushed my feelings aside and asked the question that was burning me.

"I love you, Elphaba. I don't ever want you to doubt that. Do you understand?"

Elphaba nodded. Satisfied, I continued on to the really important question: "I have to ask . . . no one has ever told you they loved you before?" I wondered if I was making sense.

"No one ever has loved me. You're almost managing to make me believe you mean it, but—" My Elphaba wouldn't look at me.

"Sweetheart, I'll always love you. Forever. I promise, you'll never have to go without love again." Sweet Oz, I thought, I'm going to cry. My heart ached for her.

"Don't make rash promises," Elphie warned and then made me forget why I wanted to disagree with her and tell her my promise wasn't rash. Damn her for being so . . . so distracting.

"I miss you, Fae. Come back to me?" I felt like I was asking the west wind to stand still just because I missed it when it was gone. Though the propaganda made me want to slaughter someone, I was glad I had posters with Elphie's picture; I didn't know if I'd make it through this loneliness without being able to see her face and remember the good times.

AN: Thanks for reading. Review - honestly, please, since this will be continued.