Disclaimer: See first chapter
Fight or Flight
It was the closest he had got to her since she had accepted his poppies and boarded the train with his then-girlfriend. She had changed a great deal in a year. Her eyes blazed like charcoals and her nostrils flared. Her gaze was hard and soul-piercing. Fiyero shivered and wished he hadn't decided to try the business district alone. She may not be the Wicked Witch of the West but she was still a terrorist who had proved she was capable of killing a man.
"Elphaba?"
Her eyes narrowed and Fiyero wondered if this was because she was about to kill him or trying to place him. If anyone wanted his bet, he would place his pension on the former.
"What do you want?" she hissed, grabbing her broom. She acted on animalistic instinct. It was fight or flight and Fiyero began to wonder whether she was just as afraid of him as he was her.
"Please stay."
She pressed her lips together and her grip on the wooden handle tightened. She was ready to flee, and knowing so, she flashed her eyebrows, allowing him to go on.
"I don't want to hurt you." He gulped. In Elphaba's position, he wouldn't have believed it either. "I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you."
Elphaba took a deep breath through her nose. "Who's with you?"
Fiyero shook his head. "No-one. I…I came to find you. I don't bring people when I really look."
Elphaba nodded. "You're in the Gale Force." It was a statement, not a question. "What can you possibly have to say to me?"
"That I want you to be safe."
Had Elphaba not been completely thrown by this, she would have laughed…loudly. Hysterically. Instead, her eyes widened and she nodded once. "Well, they haven't got me yet."
His heart throbbed with hope. Not 'you', not 'your lot' but 'they'. The 'them and us' dynamic built between them, Fiyero realised how horribly mistreated they had both been; Glinda too, he supposed, but she loved it. Of course, she was still Galinda some nights when it was horribly dark and cold and the nightmares returned, but more and more, she was smiling and waving and doing as she was told without protest. How long until she acted on her own initiative?
"Good to hear." He couldn't think of anything else to say. He was not as witty as she and judging by the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, she knew it too. "Elphaba, I-"
Elphaba raised her eyebrows and peered further into his forest green eyes, flecked with gold, the exact colour of his uniform. "You, what?"
"I…er…I really like your hat."
Elphaba pursed her lips. "What were you going to say?"
"How long will you be here?" It was as though he was suffering from verbal diarrhoea. It gushed past his lips before he had time to think about what he was saying. He sounded desperate. Although, he supposed that he was. He was desperate for company, desperate for sanity in this hell he lived in. He was desperate for her; the only like-minded person he had ever met.
Elphaba smiled grimly. "Now that you've found me and now that this conversation is over?" She met his eyes. "About thirty seconds." She mounted the broom and said, "Would you open that window for me?"
Fiyero made his way to the small window and covered the latch with his long fingers. "Will you come back?"
She shook her head.
"But your things are here?"
Elphaba smirked and pulled a large book from within the trappings of her cloak. Its cover was frayed and faded. The pages had yellowed with age. Frankly, Fiyero wouldn't have touched it without three pairs of gloves to protect his hands.
"I've got my hat," she said, smiling strangely. "I've got my broom and just to save your own neck tonight, just in case someone's seen you, for the love of the Unnamed God, limp back and spend tomorrow in bed moaning. It shouldn't be too difficult, you've had plenty of practise." The smile in her eyes made his heart physically ache. "And ask to speak to Morrible. Tell her I was here. Tell her I've taken the Grimmarie."
"What's-?"
She shushed him harshly. "You don't need to know that. She will know it and that's all that matters. Tell her I'm using it and that I've translated it."
Fiyero frowned. If that was true, why would she want him to tell the brains of the outfit and yet, if it were not true, why would she take it with her and hide it in her cloak?
"Does Morrible want that?"
Elphaba grinned. "You're getting a lot quicker, aren't you?"
He stared her out, the pain in his eyes inducing her long buried sympathy. "Is that thing the reason for all this?"
From the look in his eyes, she thought he wanted to burn it. She nodded. "Sort of. This and my stubborn nature." She bit her lip. "Can I trust you?"
"With your life."
Elphaba sighed. "Be careful. The people I trust and care about usually end up in a bad way." Realising she had said too much, she frowned. "Open the window and get home to Glinda."
He did as he was told, on all accounts, and as a result, spent the whole week pacing all night, barely sleeping and trying to decipher her words. Look to the Western Sky? People I care about end up in a bad way? No, not really stupid? What was she talking about? Why was she leaving him riddles?
It was fight or flight and he didn't have a broomstick.
