AN: Thanks to those who've been reading and reviewing. (I don't own Wicked)

Chapter 4

Walk After Midnight

Fredrick was shown to the room that would apparently be his for the next two week. It wasn't pink, thank all that is good and pure in this world, and it was pretty nicely furbished, but he was still cautious. He didn't know exactly what had made Miss Glinda the Good feel the need to suggest he stay in the castle, but it made him a bit leery. He didn't understand it, so it was not to be trusted.

He walked over to the window and looked down, measuring the drop to the ground below. Perhaps she was hoping for him to fall out of the window of his room. He was on the twelfth floor. All he could see of the courtyard below was spots of colors. He wasn't exactly afraid of heights yet the view did make him a trifle dizzy so he turned away and surveyed the rest of the room. It was painted a nice golden color and had a bed and a sofa. A desk was pushed off to the side and there was a bookshelf with a few books lined up on it. There were a few chairs and a table near the window and it was topped with a vase of freshly picked flowers. Very nice, very clean, very…. Boring. He eyed the door. It wouldn't hurt if he just took a quick look around, would it?

Glinda exited her private library trying to rub away the headache that had been building all day. She didn't know exactly what time it was, but she had heard the clock chime at midnight a while ago. Yeah, she probably shouldn't have tried to read the Grimmerie with an already forming headache, she thought as she locked the door behind her. No one but Glinda was ever allowed in her private library, partially because she housed the Grimmerie in it, which was also locked in a lock box, but also because she sometimes needed a place to simply be alone. Her room was just down the hall, but the journey seemed longer than the one from Shiz to the Emerald City had been. When she turned in the direction of her room she almost moaned out loud when she saw the figure standing in the hallway. She had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly who it was and it only made her head throb more.

"Mr. Fredrick," she slapped the fake smile on her face and he jumped surprised that she was there. "What are you doing up at this late hour?"

"I was looking for the bathroom," he said too quickly.

"You have a bathroom in your room," she pointed out.

"Do I?"

"Yes," she commented dryly even though she kept the smile in place.

"What are you doing up," he asked awkwardly.

"Going to my room," she nodded towards the door he was standing in front of. He glanced at it and then moved to the side to let her through. She went to it and opened it stepping inside. She didn't invite him in.

"Green?" She raised her eyebrows at his comment. "Your walls are green."

"Yes." Just keep smiling.

"It doesn't seem to coincide with the color scheme you seem to have going here," he commented.

"Hmmmm, yes well, though all of Oz sees me as pink, when alone I tend to enjoy the color green. Besides pink goes good with green. It always has..."

Glinda trailed off and her smile faded for the first time since he'd met her as her eyes took on a distant look. He started when he realized that without the creepy smile splitting her face in half, she was actually quite… pretty. However it was just a brief moment for then she started seeming to catch herself and plastered that smile on her face.

"Well, goodnigh-," he pressed his palm against the door to stop her from closing it in his face. Her eyes flashed dangerously. She was the only person he'd ever met who could shot daggers at someone while still sporting that horrible smile.

"Where did you go right then," he asked, once again too curious for his own good.

"None of you business," she spat, smile in place.

"You're acting different then I thought someone like-," he stop midsentence cursing the malfunctioning of the filter between his brain and mouth.

She went cold. "Someone like me? Do you know me, Mr. Fredrick?"

"I didn't mean-,"

"Here's something I've learned in my life. Don't judge anyone on what they look like or sound like. Trust me I've done it. A lot of people did it. They judged on what they saw, and it didn't work out for the one who was judged or the ones who judged her," tears seemed to gather in her eyes and she forced the last sentence through her smiling teeth. "Good night, Mr. Fredrick." She slammed the door in his face.