AN: All credit for the great challenge goes to TheSquintiestSquint.

"I said no pancakes for you!" The chef slammed the plate down in front of Fiyero, two halves of dry toast crusting in the center. Fiyero sighed as the chef stormed out. It was going to be one of those days. He hated toast days.

Glinda sauntered into the kitchen, an envelope in her hand. "We got a letter from Lahrz."

"How is he? They invent some new breakthrough again?" Fiyero scraped some jam along his toast. "I hope Lahrz and Elphie win another of those Novel Science awards. They throw the best banquets."

"You know," she picked up his plate and set it in the sink, "if you could get along with Chef Apby, you could have the whole palace full of the EC's best cooks preparing you-"

"-the finest in Ozmopolitan cuisine. Yes, I know. I've read the guidebook."

She answered with a scowl.

"Oh, admit it. You love when Lahrz accepts their awards, too. All the celebrity, and the accolades, and the shiny shinies." Glinda's eyes glossed over for a moment. "And at the center of it all, our son, the genius."

"That's another thing," she snapped out of her shiny-induced trance. "Why can't Elphie ever go? It's the least she can do when they honor her work."

He shrugged. "You know Elphaba. Nose to the grindstone."

"She could still make an appearance if nothing else. It might make everyone a little less scared of her."

"I think she likes the fear. Who doesn't enjoy a healthy dose of public loathing?"

Glinda didn't laugh. "She could at least let Lahrz come visit more often."

"Now, honey. You know that's his choice. He's an adult now. We have to let him grow up sometime." He gulped at the homicidal glare she leveled at him. "I mean, 'Yes, dear.' His letter?"

Still glowering, she grabbed a knife off the counter, and he let out a high-pitched yelp. He skittered away, tripped backwards over his chair and slammed into the table to land on the floor with an "Oomph".

Glinda leaned over him, knife in hand, and he yelped again. With his feet caught in the upraised legs of the chair and his arms pinned beneath him, he squirmed his upper body to get any sort of leverage.

Which knocked his head into the table leg. The jelly teetered precariously on the edge. It rocked over the edge, and back, and over and back. He blew up at it in a futile attempt to push it back on the table. Oh, why hadn't he closed the cap! The jelly froze in an impossible angle over the table, and then nosedived straight for his face.

He really, really hated toast days.

Glinda rolled her eyes and caught the jelly with her free hand. "Are you quite finished?" He nodded. "Men." She set the jelly down and sliced open the envelope with the knife.

He delivered a sheepish apology as he untangled himself from his position. "You know, why don't you read it to me?"

Glinda shook the paper open. "Dearest Momsy and Pop,"

"If he doesn't marry a girl, it'll be all your fault."

She whacked his arm without looking up. "Hope all is well at home. Elphaba and I are well. She has a new idea for how the interim core of a wand adapts the physical structure of the air it passes through, and if the wavelength to velocity match up-"

"I hate it when he writes all that gobble-de-gook," Fiyero interrupted. "Magic property of this, scientific principles of that, cutting edge of blah, blah, blah. Okay, we get it. You're very smart. Have a cookie."

Glinda stared at him. After a moment, she asked, "Are you finished?"

"Yes, dear."

"If the wavelength to velocity match up with the… Okay, fine. I'll skip to the rest." She skimmed her finger down the page. "If it's not too much of a bother, Elphaba and I would like to come…OH!" She squealed and tackled him right as he'd righted himself. "Oh, Fiyero, they're going to come visit!"

"That's great," he choked out. "I need to breathe."

"I know! I'm excited, too!"

"No, I really need…" he tugged on the arms crushing his trachea, "to…breathe…"

"Oh, sorry." He sat up and rubbed his throat. "Let me see the letter."

"Here."

He flattened the paper that she'd crumpled in her enthusiasm. "Elphaba and I would like to come visit as soon as is convenient. We have an important announcement to make, and we want you to hear it first. Love as always, Lahrz."

"Oh, so much to do! I need to…"

Fiyero zoned out her prattle of cleaning and laundry. Elphaba, back in public after so long. He wondered why. "What kind of announcement do you think it is?"

"It must be about their research. Ooh, I wonder what it is! I hope it's another hair-blower. I know! Maybe one that makes hair curly or straight at the whim of the operator."

"I don't think magical beauty products warrant Elphaba's return from seclusion." He scratched his chin. "Maybe another flying-bus?"

Glinda leapt up. "Whatever it is, it's got to be something fantastified, and I've been hoping for some good news after that whole Munchkin Drug Ring fiasco. This could be exactly what the public needs to lift their spirits."

She whirled around the room, a tornado of action that Fiyero couldn't follow this early in the morning. Not in his pancake-deprived state anyway.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm arranging a press conference, of course." She tapped some buttons of her communication pad to her assistant, another of Elphaba's inventions.

"Hadn't you better clear it with Lahrz first?"

"Oh, I'll write him tonight. It'll be fine."

"But Elphaba's been pretty much a hermit for almost two decades now. Are you sure she'll want to be thrust into the limelight like that?"

Glinda waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be silly. Who doesn't like the limelight?"

"A girl who's already green?"