AN:

Hey guys! Sorry for the wait! I'm know for my punctuality (I think lol) and now I already messed up at the third chapter xD
There are several reasons and everything just came together. First of all, this chapter gave me a bloody headache! I wrote it a while ago and was like 'Yeah, it's ok. gonna tweak it later.' Then, I started editing it for publication and was horrified at what I had done! So much work went into fixing it and I'm still not 100% sure, but whatever... 2nd major reason is that I'm not feeling particularly well right now - nothing bad, but it's dragging on my mojo. And I'm constantly tired. I pretty much sit down to write, all those ideas in my head, but after two sentences I just want to go to bed... I'll still do my best to hit the next update deadline!

Guest:

Haha! Congrats on your personal best! And here's another one: I don't think I ever got a review this soon after publishing a chapter! So thanks a lot for that! :D

So yeah, as I said, this chapter... I don't know. I hope you'll enjoy :)

Happy reading!

xoxo

MLE :3

3. An Imperfect Confession

Over the next couple of days, they found a rhythm they both were comfortable with, a simple, yet oddly satisfying routine. Most of the daytime was spent apart and both women went about their own businesses. They always met for meals, however, and every now and then, Glinda even cajoled Elphaba into accompanying her in a stroll through the nearby park. In the evening hours, they would retire to the music room, where Elphaba folded herself into her stuffed chair to read, while Glinda dealt with her paperwork.

Perhaps about as distracted as Elphaba was focused, Glinda took far longer than before to draft her letters and peruse the documents. Keeping her eyes on the paper in front of here was challenging when her oblivious, green housemate was sitting mere inches away from her. The closeness, Elphaba's unawareness and finally, the familiarity of it all were killing her. She hadn't realised how much she had been craving Elphaba's company until they had so innocently, accidentally crossed paths at the hotel and she certainly hadn't known how badly she needed more than just her company until she had first greeted Elphaba in her own drawing room. It was Shiz all over again and her house was like a larger, more generous version of their old dorm room. And Glinda was truly thankful for the luxury of separated bedrooms, for sometimes, being around Elphaba still proved a little too much for her.

Elphaba might have been ignorant of Glinda's hidden longings, but she certainly took notice of her fitful behaviour. There were moments of calm, when the two women would sit together, either conversing leisurely, or in silent company. But far too often, Glinda was clearly uncomfortable around her, avoiding eye contact and speaking in an unnatural pitch that was painful to Elphaba's ears. Only why then, Elphaba found herself wondering then, was it Glinda who evidently couldn't keep her distance? It was truly mindboggling.

That being said, Elphaba appreciated Glinda's company, more so than she dared to admit to her ever-questioning self. She had grown strangely accustomed to spending her evenings together with her friend in the music room, rather than in the solitude of her own room. It gave her a sense of security and she realised that she wanted to simply belong. Yet she berated herself for such foolish fantasies and reminded herself of how quickly and easily Glinda cold divest herself of her inconvenient guest.

Her brain, the most sensible part of her, she knew, argued that this was nothing more but a strategy to cope with her recent losses. No matter their differences, the constant nagging, the pointless conflicts, she had loved her family. Nanny, her father, little Shell and above all, precious Nessa. But this wasn't Colwen Grounds and Glinda was no replacement for her sister, which meant that her new desire to please her, to protect her, to hold her, was irrational and nonsensical and should not be heeded.

These were the mantras that guided her throughout the day, but at night, when sleep wouldn't take her, a small voice whispered that her head had it all wrong.

They were sitting at the breakfast table, mostly finished with eating, but too comfortable to rise and go about their separate affairs just yet. Glinda asked Elphaba about the book she had been reading recently, glad to hear that she enjoyed it, as she herself had chosen it. It had been just another small element of her grand 'Make Elphie Feel at Home Plan,' although she would never admit as much to her. She was about to elicit some details – just to please her – when the doorbell rang. Groaning quietly and rolling her eyes, Glinda leaned back in her chair, listening for any voices. Puggles entered the room soon thereafter and handed a card to his mistress. "Lady Dewflower is calling, Mum," he informed her and she nodded.

"Elphie," she said as she stood, "are you still good for our little shopping spree this afternoon?"

Elphaba made a face, wrinkling her impressive nose. "As long as you don't go back on your offer to take me to the bookshop at some point."

"I wouldn't dream of it, silly," Glinda chirped and briefly touched Elphaba's hand before waltzing through the door on her way to the drawing room.

Only because Glinda began to feel a bit like the young girl from Shiz again, this didn't mean that her Emerald City social life had simply evaporated – as much as she sometimes wished that it would do just that. Her friends continued calling every other day. At one point, Bonna even had had the guts to complain about Glinda's recent absence from their little events and get-togethers and Glinda felt compelled to promise to attend their next tea party. And then there were also some male callers, gentlemen who, so she guessed, were eager to woo a wealthy, young widow to further themselves and their bank accounts. Glinda indulged them with patience, but knew she would never accept any of their offers. Because all these receptions were inherently boring, she never expected Elphaba to attend. Once, she'd told Mirrtle to show the green woman to the library, in spite of knowing that she would regret this move soon enough.

Watching Glinda leave, Elphaba sipped the last of her coffee. She stacked the dishes on the table and collected the cutlery. It wasn't much, but it made her feel like she was at least making an effort to make herself useful. When she looked up, she noticed Mirrtle, who was standing in the door, her hands desperately gripping the silver tray she had brought along. Elphaba paused and waited for the serving girl to come over and collect the remainders of their breakfast. The young woman, however, didn't move. She sighed, shaking her head and left the room. As she passed her, Mirrtle shrunk back against the wall and sucked in a sharp breath. Elphaba briefly looked back, tempted to make a snide remark, but only bit her tongue and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

At dinner, Glinda watched Elphaba closely, trying to gauge her mood. Unsure of herself, she waited until Miss Murth had served the pudding before breaking the news. "Elphie, I'll have lunch at the Florinthwaite Club with one of Chuff's old business partners tomorrow." Elphaba looked up, nodded and returned her attention to her plate. "What I meant, was that I would like for you to come along," Glinda clarified, quickly dipping her spoon into the sweet treat in front of her as an excuse to avert her eyes. Elphaba's spoon was noisily placed onto the table. When Glinda's gaze went up, the green woman sat stiff and square, her forehead furrowed in a deep frown. To Glinda, she looked like a sulking child.

"Oh, I know you don't fancy these formal occasions or consorting with these toffs," Glinda huffed irately. "At times, neither do I. But the rumour mill here in the city is exhaustively efficient, you must know, and by now, everyone is bound to have heard of you. If I don't bring my mysterious guest to such a meeting, they will say I'm hiding you, which will only inspire their imagination. In the end, they will think I'm harbouring a fugitive rather than a refugee!"

Scoffing, Elphaba pushed her chair back from the table, ready to flee. "I do go out with you. We've been seen and probably talked about by hundreds of people."

"Believe me, Elphie, it's not the same," Glinda replied, murdering her crème de rosé with thousand little stabs of her spoon. "I need to slowly introduce you to my social circle. They feel entitled to meet you in person."

"That would be a first," Elphaba tossed out.

"You're an important political figure," Glinda countered.

"If I have ever been of any political interest, this certainly is no longer the case. Besides, your friends are calling more often than the postman. Surely, you could have introduced me two weeks ago if it were absolutely necessary."

Sweet Lurline, why did this woman have to be so infuriatingly stubborn and logical? Glinda was losing the battle and she knew it. With a heavy sigh, she decided to surrender the real reason behind her request. "Listen, Elphie, you won't like this very much, which is why I tried not to tell you." Another deep breath. "Clearly, I am not the person who is chiefly responsible for Chuff's business, or I would be spending thirty hours a day locked away in a stuffy office." She laughed artificially about her own joke like a complete amateur. Oh, how that green thing's stare affected her. Elphaba was so intense she could disarm an army officer. Well, perhaps she could use this unusual skill to her advantage.

"Anyway," she continued, clearing her voice, "There is this one particular client, who insists on meeting with me instead of our chairman, despite my insignificant role in this game. He and his family are important investors, so we indulge him." Elphaba crossed her arms, but nodded, which Glinda took as a good sign. Yet unfortunately, she had yet to come to the meat of the matter. "Now the issue is –" and she blushed a little when she said this "- that he seems to expect a little more each time we see each other. It is not at all appropriate, but as he is so important for the business, I try to be, well… nice to him." She bit her lip and bashfully looked at Elphaba thorugh her thick lashes. "I would feel more at ease if you could accompany me… to make sure he knows how to behave himself."

Elphaba didn't quite know what to say. The very idea of business affiliations based on concupiscence disturbed her and to think that Glinda was involved repulsed and offended her at the same time. The image of some nondescript stranger laying his rough hands on the perfectly soft, pale skin disturbed her and stirred a strange feeling deep in her gut. She scowled and worked her jaw. She didn't approve, but she had no choice. "Florinthwaite Club?" she finally replied dourly. "Does that mean that you will pick my wardrobe?"

Already standing in front of the excessive, green marble building with the twenty-five-foot columns, Elphaba felt out of place. Glinda next to her seemed even more anxious, which truly concerned her. She couldn't decide whether she should be disappointed by the blonde's foolishness, or impressed by her courage. She certainly was a fool if she sold herself for the money, but somehow Elphaba doubted that her motives were this simple. Perhaps she herself saw this as an act of martyrdom, and the preservation of her late husband's legacy as her moral obligation. Maybe it was just that, or maybe it was merely another foolery. Elphaba wouldn't know. She had asked herself the same question for years after she had surrendered the eminency and pledged her loyalty to Nessarose.

"Shall we then?" Glinda asked, interrupting Elphaba's contemplations. She looped her arm through Elphaba's, which she squeezed with her other hand for moral support. With a stern nod and a tense smile, she moved forward.

Glinda – or rather Lady Chuffrey - was well known among the staff. Every doorman, servant, janitor or manager greeted her by name and with a bow. A fairly undersized man in a green suit took the ladies' parasols and coats and led them to the private room Glinda's business partner had booked. The man knocked and opened the door. "Commander Cherrystone," he said with a nod, "your guests have arrived."

Green Suit stepped aside and Glinda floated past him, entering the small room. Elphaba mulled over the name she had just heard. If that man was some kind of military officer, he undoubtedly must be a member of the Wizard's army, she realised, her eyes narrowing. She understood that Glinda took no sides and was only looking to preserve her current standard of living and her husband's bequest, but she couldn't help but feel a little peeved that she had dragged her into this, for she would hate hardly anything more then to feign friendship with the Galeforce.

"Lady Glinda," the Commander greeted the blonde cheerfully. First, he only bent over to gallantly kiss her hand, but then, he wrapped his strong arm around her tiny waist and leaned in and placed a brief kiss on her cheek.

Glinda laughed coyly. "Traper, what an ardent welcome. Do you plan to make me swoon?"

The distress hidden in Glinda's playful interaction with the Commander caught Elphaba's attention. She looked up, finding Glinda still wrapped in the boldly grinning man's arm, averting her gaze. Elphaba's nostrils flared as she exhaled sharply. She stepped into the room, placing herself right in Cherrystone's field of vision. The twinkle in the Commander's eyes vanished. "Oh, you didn't tell me you were bringing a friend along."

"My apologies," Glinda smiled and carefully detached herself from him to quickly cross the room and take Elphaba's hand. "This is my dear friend Elphaba Thropp. She only decided this morning that the she would like to join us so she could meet you.

"Thropp?" The Commander weighed her name on his tongue. Wordlessly, Elphaba stared back at him. She wasn't going to jog his memory.

"Of the Munchkinland Thropps," Glinda finally explained in her stead. "Surely you must know of them? She is the sister of the last Eminent Thropp of Nest Hardings."

The expression in the man's eyes changed from clueless to guarded. "Yes, of course," he slowly nodded after a moment, still thinking. He studied her anew, from head to toe, before forcing his stern face into a false smile. "I did not mean to offend," he offered, stepping closer as if waiting for her to extend her hand. "I simply wasn't aware that any of the Thropp family survived the coup. Well, good to see you alive and well, my Lady and please accept my condolences." The words were spoken so insincerely, that Elphaba didn't even feel the need to affect appreciation. Glinda smiled apologetically on her behalf.

They took their seats at the round table, waiting for the first course of their meal to arrive. Glinda sat opposite Cherrystone, which she hoped was a good distance; Elphaba sat in between. The Commander seemed none too happy about the arrangement, but chose to say nothing. "How is your father, Traper?" Glinda began conversationally, "Is his gout still causing him trouble? I hear he retired from active service to take the waters by the seaside?"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and the small man in the green suit entered, followed by a serving girl balancing heavily loaded trays on her hands. A clock-tick later, a young boy wheeled in a cart with a large soup tureen. Elphaba eyed the soup and sniffed at the pieces of chicken she discovered. Still, she forced herself to eat at least some of it, already guessing that she would not be able to stomach any of the upcoming courses, except for desert, perhaps.

"Your friend doesn't eat much," Cherrystone noted later, after Elphaba had left three plates untouched. Unimpressed, Elphaba continued to glare at the muttonhead, which was now the centerpiece on the table.

"She is a vegetarian," Glinda supplied patiently. "Poor thing, I'll have to take her out for tea and sweet later, lest she waste away under my watch." Commander Cherrystone scoffed at that, but offered to invite the ladies to a café after lunch. Glinda, having noticed her faux pas, tried her best to fend off his offer.

Dessert proved edible for Elphaba. She took a second helping of the fruit compote and even helped Glinda finish her cake. Once the club staff had removed all plates and cutlery and had replaced them with cups of hot, steaming tea, Cherrystone took his cup and moved seats. Now sitting next to Glinda, he allowed his thin lips to pull into a wide grin. She tilted her head to look at him, wondering what he might be up to. "I must confess, I miss your fanciful style of dress, dear Glinda," he rasped, his voice gravelly from too much wine. "These dark outfits are elegant, for sure, but they seem to wash out the happiness from your beautiful face."

He edged closer with every word and Glinda struggled to distance herself without appearing too rejecting. "I am a widow in mourning, Traper," she reminded him. "It would be not at all appropriate to prance around, looking like some exotic bird."

"It's such a silly convention, isn't it? I'm sure old Chuff wouldn't want you to be sullen over his parting."

"Please," she begged, daring to move just another inch, "we ought to discuss business, not the sense and nonsense of societal prescriptions." She made eye contact with Elphaba, who was watching them closely, ready to jump over the table if she had to.

"But you didn't even love him," Cherrystone plowed on, covering her left hand, still displaying her golden wedding band, with his.

Glinda's head spun around and she cast him a horrified look, which made Elphaba jolt to her feet. "Stop embarrassing yourself, Commander, you are clearly intoxicated."

"Just a little," he drawled. "But he was drunk that night – drunk like a hog!" Elphaba paused, puzzled, but Glinda immediately realised who the Commander was talking about. "And heartbroken," he continued before she could ask him to stop. "The man cried his bloody soul out and all because his beloved wife did not return his affection with equal fervour. I listened to him and I looked at him, that poor, old man. And I hoped that sooner or later my day would come."

For a few heartbeats, Glinda was paralysed by disbelief and bewilderment. She didn't realise when her body began to shake, but Elphaba, who had finally put all the pieces of information together, snapped out of her stupor and reached for her hand. "Glinda?" she spoke softly, unsure how her friend planned to proceed.

Glinda looked up and caught Elphaba's gaze. Her eyes looked sad or guilty; Elphaba didn't know this side of her well enough to tell for sure. "We thank you for your invitation, Commander," she finally said, her voice firmer than Elphaba or even she herself had expected. "But I am afraid my friend and I are slightly tired from the sheer excess of food and wine. Perhaps, we could defer business matters to another day."

She pushed back her chair and stood. Commander Cherrystone appeared somewhat dumbfounded, but she was past the point of truly caring. "Come, Elphie," she said quietly and linked their arms when Elphaba stepped up to her. "Have a good day, Captain," she said as she turned. Elphaba couldn't find it within herself to say anything at all.

"That went well," Elphaba remarked dryly, as soon as their cab took off. The Florinthwaite Club was barely ten minutes walk away from Mennipin square, but it was obvious that Glinda was in no condition to walk even that far. The dainty, young woman heaved a deep sigh and collapsed against her friend, her blonde head resting heavily on her shoulder.

By the time they retired to the music room, Glinda's mood still seemed marred and Elphaba didn't know how to help. She picked a book from the shelf as she did every evening, while Glinda sat down at her bureau to do her work. Concentrating on the words before her, however, proved strangely difficult, as her thoughts, time and time again, returned to their unfortunate lunch appointment and to Glinda's odd mood. She let her eyes wander across the room, until they found the piano. Maybe this would be a good time to try if it was still in tune.

Putting her book aside, she got out of her comfortable chair and sat down on the small, wooden piano bench. She lifted the lid carefully and tested a few keys. It didn't sound too bad. She racked her brain for something cheerful, but came up empty. The best she could do was a piece that wasn't outright depressing. She tapped her right foot to the rhythm while mentally going through the music, hoping she remembered everything correctly. Then, she began to play.

Glinda looked up from the letter she had so far failed to compose. Still slightly dazed, she looked in the direction of Elphaba's chair, which she found abandoned along with the book. Only at a second thought, she had the sense to search for her at the piano. She hadn't known that Elphaba knew how to play, and so beautifully as well. The music enveloped her like a warm blanket. It wasn't uplifting, but comforting, touching her heart somehow. It made her wonder whether Elphaba realised what it was doing to her.

She sat still, listening for quite a while and waiting for the piece to finish so that she could applaud and thank Elphaba for her performance. But the green woman kept playing, interweaving several pieces into one seamless stream of ever-changing melodies. Although she thoroughly enjoyed the music, Glinda began to yearn for Elphaba's company instead. She abandoned her chair and crossed the room, lightly letting her hand glide over Elphaba's back as she passed the piano on her way to the settee. Even in this fleeting touch, she felt the tension of her muscles, the deep concentration. She sat down and continued to watch and it became clear that Elphaba wouldn't stop any time soon, too absorbed in her own world. She carefully cleared her voice. "Elphaba?"

Elphaba's head snapped up. She was still playing, but her neck craned to find the voice that had called her name. She discovered Glinda, sitting on a couch. She was smiling softly at her, and beckoned her to join her. Elphaba distractedly allowed her fingers to finish a few more notes and created a gentle ending for the music, before she did as Glinda had asked.

"You only told me that you sing sometimes."

"Back at Shiz that was still true." Glinda's eyes widened. "My great-grandfather taught me how to play the piano while I lived at Colwen Grounds."

"You learnt to play like this in eight years?" Glinda asked, stunned.

"Four. I never played after he passed away. It has never been my passion. I only did it to please him."

Shaking her head, Glinda almost laughed. "What made you play now then?"

"You don't feel right to me. You're sad or… I don't even know. You're never like this." Elphaba's intense gaze found Glinda's. The blonde held it for a while, then looked away, picking on invisible threads on her dress.

"Elphie, what Cherrystone said today…"

"Was rude."

She smiled. "Yes, it was. But he was true. I never actually loved Chuffrey and although you might think this normal in our circles of society, he suffered greatly because of it. He was too much in love with me to overcome the fact that I didn't feel the same."

Elphaba wondered why Glinda was sharing this with her and so did Glinda. Elphaba came to the conclusion that it might be cathartic for her to speak about her pain, while Glinda realised that, above all else, she wanted to tell Elphaba because she needed her to know. That her love had never belonged to anyone. Anyone but her.

She took a shuddering breath and reached for a green hand. A small wave of relieve washed over her when Elphaba returned her grasp firmly, as though she tried to communicate to her that she got her, that she would not let her fall. Just like that one time at Shiz, after Ama Clutch's funeral, when she had nearly fainted. Although she was now fuzzy on the details, she still remembered Elphaba's arms around her, her gruff, but concerned voice and the pleading look in her dark brown eyes. Exhausted from the excess of emotions, she leaned against Elphaba again, like she had done in the carriage, glad that Elphaba didn't seem to think it odd, or feel the need back away. Her free hand found her opposite shoulder, then briefly moved up to her cheek to tilt her head just enough so she could place a sweet, harmless kiss on her cheek. Elphaba was startled and twitched just enough for Glinda to notice, but let it happen. Glinda's hand fell back onto her shoulder as she snuggled closer and rested her head against Elphaba's soft chest rather than her bony shoulder.

Touching Elphaba had quickly become like a drug to Glinda. The more often she dared to brush her hand against the soft emerald skin, or even just the course fabric of Elphaba's dresses, the more she craved the contact. She knew that, at this rate, she wouldn't be able to keep it this light for long. She had to decide whether she should pull back completely, or close her eyes and take the scary leap.