Flying with two people was – thank Oz – much less difficult than I'd thought it would be. Poor Broomstick struggled a little to begin with; creaking and snapping a few of his chocolate-brown twigs in vague protest as we flew smoothly and – mostly – silently over the dim green roofs of the Emerald City, and out over the plains and forests of the land that lay beyond.

"I'm sorry," I murmured to him under my breath as he twisted underneath me – careful not to let Fiyero hear the insaneness I'd developed over the years of talking to my inanimate-object friend. "I'm sorry, truly I am. We won't go far, just let's out of the city, all right?"

Fiyero, meanwhile, stayed ridged as a statue carved from stone behind me for the whole flight. Had I not been able to feel the iron grip he still had on my waist, I would have worried about him. After all, not everyone took to flying as quickly as I had.

I smiled at the thought; remembering happily those first few days of pure freedom, of flight, of open skies and wind whipping in your face and birds flocking around you and the sun beating down caramel-streaks from above…of course, I had revelled in all that as a law-breaking criminal, yes – but still, so wonderfully, blissfully free from everything and everyone of my past life. Flying had been like nothing on earth, and it had taken less than a minute for me to realise how much I loved it.

But Fiyero, disappointingly, didn't seem to be having quite such a wonderful time as I had on my first flight.

He never spoke a word, even as we left the Emerald City far behind us as a tiny green speck on the horizon – the ground beneath now carpeted with a new green; the green of forest, of endless trees and bushes and woods, uninhabited by anyone – except of course, me, when circumstances had led me there.

When poor Broomstick began to creak in angry protest once again, I turned my face to the side to murmur over my shoulder to Fiyero.

"Have a look behind us to see whether anyone's following, would you, you're blocking my…my view…"

I trailed off, lost in the intensity of his gaze, staring stupidly at him for an immeasurable amount of time – before Broomstick interrupted us with another loud, pointed bristle of his twigs, and dipped alarmingly. Fiyero let out a yelp – for Oz's sake, such a baby! – his hands clutching my waist impossibly tighter as I struggled to help my wooden friend to steady – but his meaning was clear. He couldn't carry on for any longer. Whether someone had managed to follow us or not – and I highly doubted it – if I didn't bring us in to land somewhere soon, I wouldn't put it past him, even after all these years, to resort to drastic measures. Far too drastic to be risked.

I squinted at the dark woods still speeding along beneath us, and then turned to murmur to Fiyero again; careful not to let my gaze get caught up in his.

"I'm going to bring us into land – Broomstick can't carry on like this much longer. You all right back there?"

He didn't reply. Just gazed at me with the same frightening intensity that he still gripped my waist with – and then nodded. A smile twitched his lips.

"Never better," he replied quietly – and leant forward slightly to rest his chin on my shoulder. I suppressed a delighted shiver, determined to keep my head this time.

Not that girl, remember, Elphie…

I shook my head against the voice, pretending to myself that I couldn't hear it and turned back to gaze over the handle of my broom – beginning to scan for a gap in the trees, or a possible clearing. A decent enough area to land in without causing trouble, being seen, and wild enough that no one would think to ever look for us…

Carefully, I lowered Broomstick to fly over the very top of the forest below, my toes skimming the leaves of the tallest trees – scouting for a gap that could serve as a possible landing spot. Fiyero stiffened visibly in his seat, his face pressing against my shoulder. I restrained from rolling my eyes with extreme difficulty. Honestly, he really was making the most ridiculous fuss, it couldn't be all that bad.

"Hold tight," I murmured as a gap in the trees just ahead of us decided for me where my broom was destined to land – and then wished I hadn't. Fiyero's grip – one hand now slipped round against my stomach to hold me back tight against his chest – was becoming more and more distracting with every passing minute.

Not…that…girl…

My landing, once I'd managed to edge Broomstick between the branches of the forest and down into the small clearing, was easily one of the worst I'd ever done – it was hard with two people. The weight was unbalanced, Broomstick still in an unsurprisingly temperamental mood – and Fiyero's trembling form wobbling behind me didn't help matters.

Broomstick swooped to a sudden stop with his own added force – I supposed it was my poor friend's way of punishing me for forcing him through such a difficult journey – causing me to stumble, and Fiyero to half-collapse on top of me for the second time that evening, as his unsteady feet hit the ground. By now, I was so used to flying the long distances from place to place that the dizzy light-headedness and instability caused by the solid ground beneath your feet once more hardly affected me – but it was Fiyero's first time, and he was everything but steady.

"Careful!" I scolded over my shoulder to him, as Broomstick jerked and wriggled to get himself out from underneath us both with furious vigour. "Open your eyes, idiot, and get your face away from my shoulder for starters, then –hey -!"

My wooden friend had given a final, violent jolt – knocking both of us off our feet, and allowing him to fly smoothly over to the nearest tree, and flop down against it, the twigs rising and falling slightly as though panting. I stumbled backwards, colliding with Fiyero. Next thing I knew, we were both falling – and then hitting, with similar gasps, the hard, cold forest ground.

I scrambled up, brushing leaves from my dress, turning angrily to face my wooden friend, now hopping away towards the shadow of a much farther away tree, his branches still bristling.

"For Oz's sake!" I hissed, striding over and jerking a finger behind me towards Fiyero. "Look what you did! Take out your melodramatics on me, if you must, but hehasnever flown before! It's not his fault he's so unsteady!"

My wooden friend stood straight and defiant facing me for a second, then flopped to the ground and went utterly limp – making a point.

"Yes," I glowered. "Believe me, so am I! It's no easy task flying a broom as old and temperamental as you!"

Broomstick didn't make any further retort – just pulled himself up, turned away, and flopped against the tree again. Sulking. I sighed.

A low groan sounded from behind me: Fiyero, struggling up from the ground, bleary-eyed and swaying from side to side.

"Here," I began, reaching towards his unsteady form – but regretting it almost instantly. Fiyero stumbled – probably some stray root from a tree displeased at a member of the Gale Force present in their forest – and toppled once again, his arms flailing towards me for support. I caught him as he fell, planting my feet so I wouldn't crumple under his weight, whilst his arms clutched at me, his whole body pressing against mine in an impossibly pleasant way as he struggled to stay standing.

"Sweet Oz," he gasped, still panting fit to burst – for Oz's sake, he hadn't even been the one to fly Broomstick. "How can you bare it, all these years riding that awful thing -?!"

He gestured to Broomstick, who gave an indignant creak, and hopped farther away behind another tree. Fiyero chuckled under his breath, swaying on the spot, glancing downwards to grin at me again…

…We stared into each other's faces, suddenly so close to each other, for a few immeasurable moments.

Not that girl, not that girl not that girl…!

– I shook my head hard, fast, trying to clear it; forcing myself not to even begin to consider the fact that we were, of course, now more alone than I had ever hoped it was possible to be in a deserted, moonlit clearing, more alone than I'd been with anyone, anyone since that cursed day with the Lion cub…

I let go of him, pushing both the perilous thought and his hands away – but his arms tightened around me before I could move.

My eyes slid up to meet his expressionless gaze.

"Fiyero," I murmured, heart pounding much too loud all of a sudden. "I think…that you can stand by yourself, now."

He didn't reply. Just curled his grip tighter; one hand sliding up my back – oh sweet Oz – and making me shudder, the other reaching up to his shoulder where one of my arms still rested. His hand curled around mine.

"No," he said softly, but with absolute conviction. "I can't."

My eyes narrowed, an automatic reaction to his defiance – though my heart was pounding. Nobody had defied me so blatantly like that in years. Nobody.

Nobody dared.

"Captain." My voice was low and dangerous now, the word sour on my tongue. "Let go of me."

His smile was unbearably gentle. "No."

The tone wasn't angry, or even defiant. It was soft as a whisper – a sound that sent shivers down my spine, like trickles of warm water…

"What are you playing at?" I demanded, a note of real anger entering my voice for the first time, but Fiyero only shook his head and bent ever so slightly towards me – oh sweet Oz – so close I wanted to scream, to attack, to beat him away…to melt into his arms…

The smile that twitched his lips was hopeful.

"I lost you once, Elphaba," he whispered, his breath mingling with mine – Oz-damnit, Oz-damnit, Oz-damnit. "And then again – so many, many times over. All those chases. All those raids. All those years of hunting…and I've finally caught you. I've finally caught the wicked witch…"

He trailed off, grinning. "Well, ok, I guess she's caught me. Now there's no way you're getting rid of me that easily. I won't lose you again, Elphaba. Not ever, ever again."

My heart skipped a beat – what did he mean, what was this, what was he even talking about…? He couldn't mean…he wasn't saying…

…Could he…?

No. No, I'd been here, done this, hoped, wished, wounded – that was all in the past now. I knew better, now. Better than to hope. To even consider for a second…that possibility…

Not that girl…

"I don't know what you're talking about," I snapped, by way of a truly brilliant answer. Fiyero laughed.

"Ok, yeah, neither do I, much," he replied, his eyes still dark, fervent, as serious as ever. Unnaturally serious. Sweet Oz, what had being captain of the guard done to him? Where was the confident, carefree, thick-headed Winkie prince I had known – or thought I had known – back at Shiz…?

I eyed him suspiciously from under my lashes.

"What happened to Mr. Dancing Through Life?" I tried for sarcasm, though my heart was still fluttering in the most ridiculous way. Fiyero blinked at me for a moment.

"Who?"

Slow as ever. Clearly, that part of him hadn't changed in the slightest.

"You know," I said, rolling my eyes. "Your life motto."

The words came out an almost-smirk. Comprehension dawned slowly in Fiyero's eyes.

"Oz, Elphaba, you still remember that -?!"

"And why wouldn'tI remember it?" I interrupted. "Last time I saw you, that was all you were! Or rather, all you weren't. You didn't care. You never cared. Or you pretended you didn't. You were nothing. Nothing."

I looked away again, cheeks flaming – I'd said too much, far too much.

Stupid, perfect, pampered, brainless Winkie prince…

But he hadn't been nothing. He had never been nothing…well, perhaps just a little at the beginning, where several piles of books and thoroughly incompetent driver were involved. My heart sank at that thought – what a fool I had made of myself, what a horrible first impression he must have got; a gangly, bespectacled artichoke covered in mud from her fall with books cascading out of her arms, insulting him left, right and centre…

"What are you thinking?" Fiyero was murmuring with another grin; an oddly smug, almost hopeful expression. His fingers flexed a little tighter, a little warmer around my waist.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," I started to snap, but my voice trailed off into exactly that as the other of Fiyero's hands slid up my neck, cupped my cheeks, drew my face towards his…

His smile was gentle again – and indescribably beautiful.

"…Fiyero," I began, voice faint, trembling, hardly there. "Fiyero, what are you doing…"

"Nothing, Elphaba," he whispered, his breath dancing across my lips, his tone laced with amusement, and then…

"…Absolutely nothing…"

…and then…

I tried, only half-consciously, to draw away. To lean back from him as he bent towards me, my chest tilting to almost a right angle, back bending like a dancer, not that girl screaming in my head, the voice shrieking over and over like a stuck record…but it was no use. I just wasn't listening anymore.

And my body wouldn't obey my thoughts. I was limp in his arms, my hands trembling and useless by my sides, heart frozen to a standstill with feelings I couldn't name. My every ounce of common sense, every half-way logical part of me, and not that girl shrieked no, no, no. But every other part of me moaned yes, yes, yes…

And then Fiyero's arms drew me up to press my body tight against his – and his lips found mine.

And I told not that girl to shut up.