This is a prequel to "Common Ground" because the plot fairies decided to go and turn the nice, pretty, fluffy little plot bunny that is "Common Ground" into a plot monster that has resulted in a five-part series. Therefore, I am now working on the "Common Ground series." And, yes, I am aware that there's really no discernible connection between this and "Common Ground," but there will be, as both of those stories are now just part of a bigger picture/story arc! So humor me, hang in there, and read on! Oh, and don't forget to drop me a review please, telling me how you think I wrote these characters, since it's my first time writing for any of them and I'd really appreciate the feedback! And I have a poll up that I'd appreciate your votes on! Thanks! Enjoy!:)
Jefferson had long found that being capable of traveling through realms was not always all that it was cracked up to be – convenient, yes, but not as glamorous as people often thought. He got lost in unfamiliar worlds more often then he wanted to admit, and a lot of the realms that he'd visited… he just didn't like. But this one – Oz – was new to him. It was sort of a… quirky place – strange in a sometimes-pleasant way – and he liked what he'd seen of it so far. He hadn't seen much of it, though, he mused, distracted by the wares that surrounded him on every side as he wandered through an outdoor market.
Then he was shocked out of his own head by a whirl of red and green plowing into his chest and nearly knocking them both to the ground. One hand instinctively reached instinctively towards the beam of a booth, and his other hand gripped the shoulder of his assailant to steady… her. Really seeing who'd ran into him for the first time… well, once again, Jefferson liked what he saw.
Until he noticed that those pretty blue eyes were crying.
Alarmed, he asked quickly, "Are you hurt?"
Swallowing back tears and trembling underneath the hand Jefferson still had on her shoulder, she shook her head fiercely. Yet, something was still obviously wrong.
Jefferson asked carefully, "Is there something I can do? Do you need help?"
"Not from you."
Because of her tears, the words didn't come out nearly as sharp as she'd obviously meant them to, and Jefferson was undeterred, asking, "Are you on your way somewhere, then?"
The redhead glared at him, but she still only managed to look something like a spiteful puppy despite her best efforts as she said, "Something like that."
"Perhaps I could help you, then;" Jefferson said, giving an exaggerated bow. "I am a bit of an expert on long-distance travelling."
"I know my way perfectly well, thank you. I only have to follow this main road for a day."
"Then perhaps you could be of service to me," Jefferson suggested. "I'm looking for a… tour guide. Would you allow me to walk your trail with you?"
He knew he was being an unwelcome annoyance but there was just something about her – an instinct of sorts – that made him want to go with her and get to know her. She intrigued him. What's more, the longer he spoke to her, the less she seemed inclined to cry. On the heels of that thought came the realization that he wanted to see her smile – how horrible was that? – and all of this combined to make him determined to become her traveling companion.
"And what if I say 'no'?" she inquired, her tone slowly starting to lose its acid even as she rolled her eyes.
"Then I'll be hard-pressed to remain a gentleman and not trail behind you anyway," Jefferson grinned cheekily.
That drew forth a deep sigh of resignation from her and another eye roll as she started walking, throwing over her shoulder, "Come on then; I won't slow down for you."
Triumphant, Jefferson's smile widened as he jogged the couple of steps it took to get to her side and declared, "I'm Jefferson."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, chin at a stubborn, disagreeable angle as she responded, "Zelena."
"Well, Zelena, if you don't mind my saying so, you look like you've been having a bad day."
"If you don't mind my saying so," she bit out, glancing pointedly at his left ring finger, "You look like a bad choice for a young lady to traipse out of town with."
Jefferson bit back a sigh and shoved his hand into his coat pocket, muttering, "You noticed that, did you? Well, you don't have anything to fear from me."
Zelena scanned over his entire person out of the corner of her eye, observing aloud, "You're not from Oz, yet you're here. You're married, yet your wife hasn't accompanied you. Either you're widowed, leaving her, or in the after-effects of a particularly bad argument."
"Just the latter," Jefferson admitted, for some reason trusting this somehow-familiar stranger with his secrets. "I have… an asset that allows me to travel through realms, and my wife wants to use it. I told her 'no' – again – she got angry, so I left to let her calm down. Most likely I'll go back to her once you and I finish our 'traipse.'"
"Where does she want to go?"
"Wonderland," Jefferson drawled with distaste. "She says it's absolutely wonderful."
"It isn't?" Zelena inquired curiously.
"Not at all, in my opinion. I hate Wonderland."
His ferocity on the subject appeared unprecedented and he knew it but she was quick to guess the reason behind it – and accurately so. "You think she's found a lover to travel to?"
"Maybe," Jefferson allowed, though it was obvious that neither one of them knew why exactly they were comfortable being so frank with one another – it was just… happening. "So there's my secret; I'm running from my family problems. What about you?"
The way she looked at him – a quick glance at his face combined with the slightest of blushes – said it all.
"You too, huh?" he asked lightly, daring to knock his shoulder softly against hers.
Surprised and momentarily unbalanced, Zelena was quick to right herself, obviously trying her best not to grin at his shenanigans – and failing gloriously. "Yes, me too."
"See, Zelena," he said, encouraged by her smile and feeling brassy as he went so far as to intertwine his arm with hers while they walked. "Maybe this meeting was just meant to be."
"Maybe so," the redhead said shyly, and was it his imagination or did her hand tighten its grip on his arm?
The idea had been for Zelena to point out the lay of the land to him as they travelled, but that never actually happened. Instead, they talked. She talked about her plans, about the revelation that she'd been adopted, about her adopted father's prejudice against her, and about her own magic. In turn, he explained his magic and his struggling marriage, and gushed over his newborn daughter, Grace,
By the time night fell, they weren't holding anything back if it came to their minds. They were asking questions and answering them, laughing and crying. There were glances exchanged, both shy and sly; their arms stayed intertwined, and then they were holding hands, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder as they strolled in the moonlight.