A/N: I'm sorry, it's been awhile, hasn't it. So anyway, uh… the beginning of the chapter is in 3rd person, but then it goes back to normal…you'll see.

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.

They loaded into the wagons and carriages that were owned or commandeered, dozens upon dozens of them. The Wizard wasn't making any mistakes this time.

"Let's go, come on!" he screamed. "We've got to catch those dangerous terrorists!"

There were wanted posters of the pair all over the Emerald City; but its citizens weren't very alarmed. After all, the theory went, how far could a green woman and a man covered in blue diamonds get, on foot at that? The Wizard hadn't told them about the broom; he didn't want the pfaithers to start either supporting Elphaba or raising hell themselves by magicking dozens of household implements and flying round on them like idiots, nor did he want the Lurlinists and other pagans howling about prophecies they'd made up that minute, nor did he, really, want the unionists forming a witch hunting mob.

He'd take care of that himself.

She'd escaped from him twice, she'd threatened his life, she'd never once given in. She'd used the humiliation he'd forced on her to escape.

Now, it was personal.

…

We alighted, this time, within the gates of Colwen Grounds. The guards turned and looked ready to shoot (if their old muskets even could; but note how they hadn't even bothered to warn us when the Wizard showed up. Loyalists all, despite the damn drought. Hadn't they been listening as secession had been bantered about for years on end? I had, and I hadn't even been here). But when they recognized us, they backed off reluctantly. I stuck out my tongue, not feeling very mature, and they ran off. I laughed.

"Why did you do that?" asked Fiyero.

"Annoyance. Lack of sleep. Sick of being looked at askance by annoying assholes in uniform…or not, for that matter. General bitchiness," I reeled off.

"All right then," said Fiyero. He took my arm and led me towards the house where I banged the huge knocker about six times. By now I was trembling with the anticipation of seeing Fala and Liir again.

A young maid, probably new, opened the door. She stood gaping at us for a moment, then ran screaming down the hall, hopefully to get my father, sister, or great-grandfather. I rolled my eyes.

"I am really getting tired of that," I said. "Doesn't anyone learn how to be tactful anymore?" Fiyero gave me a look.

"I don't mean me, and anyway I certainly don't go around screaming like an idiot anytime I see someone with a different-colored skin," I said. "I mean, really, they ought to be used to me around here by now. I've only been coming here, summers, since I was, what? Two and a half?"

Those summers saved my life, actually. Wandering the rooms of the big old house, I devoured ancient books, played for once like the child I was, and learned almost everything I knew. During the long hot days when my father had taken Nessarose down to the stream to wade, I occupied myself in other ways. I found books of the laws of Munchkinland dating back a hundred years, histories of Oz from the points of view of various religions, legends, myths, natural science texts. One summer, I taught myself the language spoken among the older and more educated of the Gillikinese (what a book about it was doing in the musty old library of a house in the depths of rural Munchkinland I'll never know). I took the natural science books outside and applied what they said to real life. I climbed trees and ran and grew stronger and louder and less the silent, preternaturally skinny and serious girl I was the rest of the year.

Finally, though, my father came to the door.

"You're not dead," he said after a moment.

"So it would appear, but one can never be sure," I replied.

"I'm told no one's ever broken out of Southstairs once, much less twice," he said.

"Well, Father, is the propaganda machine known as the press really so very likely to print the truth?" I asked him. He groaned and said nothing, ushering us into the house.

The moment I stepped into the foyer, I was very nearly knocked flat by a mobile ball of golden hair and sparkling gown.

"Oh, thank Lurline, you're alive, Elphie!" she cried, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Erm- yes," I said awkwardly, trying to detach myself from her as Fiyero laughed at us.

"I'm sorry," said Glinda, calming down and composing herself. "I just – oh, the babies, you'll want to see the babies, won't you? Of course you do, how silly of me- Linseed! Linseed! Get down here, please, and bring the children!"

The sallow, dour young girl who had looked after the twins the night we'd arrived here the last time came down the stairs slowly, carrying Fala and Liir. Unable to stand it any longer, I rushed halfway up the stairs to her and grabbed the babies. Fala smiled and I could have sworn that she winked at me.

"Don't worry," I told them. "I'm not going to say I'll never leave you again, because let's face it, I probably will, but you shouldn't worry about it. In fact, let's teach you early that just because something's gone out of sight, that doesn't mean it's gone out of existence, just-"

"Elphaba," interrupted Fiyero, smiling. "You do know that they can't understand you, don't you?"

I gave him a look. "I know very well that temporary lack of speech does not indicate lack of understanding, Fiyero."

"But-" Wisely, he gave up. "Fine. I guess none of us know, do we?"

Words are words and what's said is said…my backbone, my breastplate…it'll be all over the valley that the little marrow is green…breakfast in the dirt, breakfast for the bugs…maybe we'll go out in a boat and we'll tip over…shall we go out in the woods…slow and deliberate as Elphaba is…fine, if you must know, I'm pregnant…horrors, horrors, horrors…

"I do," I said.

…

That night, when Fiyero was laying in bed and the twins were in their cribs(I had lost the battle for having them stay in bed with us), I came out of the closet in my nightdress and slipped in beside Fiyero, who reached for me.

"Wait," I said.

He groaned. "Elphaba," he said.

"No, this is important."

"Fine." He sat up and I leaned on my elbow. "Hurry up, then."

"We can't stay here," I said. "You know and I know that we can't. Practically, we know that this is the first place the Wizard will look for us, and we can't count on another escape, Fiyero. He may just kill us next time-" I lowered my voice, glancing over at the cribs- "and he may kill the babies too, or take them."

"I know-"

"Also, I can't stay here. I just…my family has been very reticent, so far, but sooner or later they're going to find something wrong with something I'm doing and then they will harass me about it until I go screaming mad," I said.

"Well, we talked before about going to the Vinkus," said Fiyero.

"But that would have been to talk to Sarima, and we already did that." Fiyero winced. I went on. "Besides, it's the beginning of autumn and it's far too late to start a journey there," I said.

"Well, I don't know, then. Just make a hiding place here and we'll figure it out," he said. "Please."

"Fine," I relented, and moments later we were both lost in each other.