AN: Please let me know if the chapters get unmanageably long. Thanks for reading and especially those who take the time to let me know what you think.

Glinda's heels tapped a rapid thump in time with her own heartbeat as she paced. The door creaked open, and she rushed to meet the doctor.

"He'll be fine." He clunked away his tools in his worn leather satchel. "Lost quite a bit of blood, but not enough to be worrisome."

She chewed her lip. "He was so pale."

"Blood loss and shock will do that to a man, even our indestructible Captain." The smile tossed over his shoulder overshadowed kindness with exhaustion. "I know it's frightening, Your Goodness, but he's strong. He'll pull through."

She gave a watery smile.

"Keep him warm and resting, though I expect that will be a chore. He really ought to stay in bed for the next few days. Plenty of fluids, and…oh." He patted his pockets and rummaged in his bag for a vial of liquid. "Pain medicine. I'll bring more when I come tomorrow. Don't skimp. Getting shot is a painful business."

"Thank you, doctor." She caught the man's hand to imbue it with all the sincerity she could. Oz, when she heard about Fiyero being shot...she didn't think she could face it. What would her life be like without him?

The doctor patted her hand. "Of course, Your Goodness. He'll be alright now, nurse like you." He stepped back and slid on his coat. "Though, my experience? Tough men like your fiance make the worst patients."

Her fiance. How strange to hear the words dropped so cavalierly.

The doctor let go of her hand and snapped his bag shut. "If he's being obstinate, feel free to threaten him with medical restrictions. Fastest path back out there is to lay in that bed and listen to his pretty nurse. You're helping him best that way, no matter how much he hates it."

"I will, doctor. Thank you." The thought of Fiyero out patrolling again twisted her stomach. She showed the doctor out and then stood in the doorway, fidgeting her sleeve.

Fiyero lay so still, so pale, swamped with bandages. "You can come in, you know," he said without opening his eyes.

She toed closer, and he sighed.

"I'm fine, really."

She sniffed, and he moved to sit up. "Don't! You're supposed to rest."

He made a face, but he settled back against the pillows. She fussed the blankets smooth. "Just a graze." He caught her hand with his left, opposite the wound. "In a few days, it'll be just a funny story."

She glared at him. "It is not funny."

"You're right. I'm sorry." He squeezed her hand. His sincerity softened that empty pit in her stomach, and she sheltered his hand warm between both of hers. Proof he was alive, safe, here with her. He tipped his head back against the pillows. "Did they find anyone?"

Her eyes shot wide. "Was there someone to find?"

"Not who you'd expect, no." He struggled up another inch with a grunt. "I doubt anything could be done about the Cubs, but Mercus might have been dumb enough to try."

Galinda's breath caught. "That's why you were shot? Fifi, you can't take chances like that. What if someone saw?" She jerked back to pace, and he let her go with a sour expression. "What if the Wizard suspects now? You've got to be more careful."

"And how do you propose I do that?" he snapped, his voice ice cold. "Use Mercus as a human shield? Should I fire the bullet myself to allay any suspicions?"

"Of course not." She slunk back. "But Fifi-"

"Don't call me that."

The words struck a chord of nostalgic agony, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

He softened. "Hey, I'm sorry. Come here." She took a step toward him like a rebuked child, eyes downcast. He tugged her to sit on the bed beside him. "I know you're worried, and I'm sorry. I'm alright, really. I'm just being a grouch."

"It's because of the pain, isn't it?" She hopped up, happy to have something to do. "The doctor left you something."

"No!" She froze, and he tempered his tone. "No, thank you. Whatever it is, I don't want it. I'd rather have the pain than...I can't be out of it like that. I need to stay alert."

"The doctor said-"

"You know how I feel about rules." He flashed a charming smile and pushed himself up with a groan that had her beside him in an instant. He gritted out, "Made to be broken."

She pursed her lips at him.

He sighed and patted the bed beside him.

She curled up against his side, and he settled his good arm around her. "Shh," he soothed, and her eyelashes fluttered fast to hold back the ridiculous tears. Well, he'd seen her cry plenty of times, held her through tears of panic and regret. What did these matter? "Is that any way to treat your fiance?"

His tone held a tease, but the pucker of his lips gave away his frustration with her. She snuck an arm around his waist. "I'm sorry about that. I am." She plucked at his shirt absently. "Tizl told the Wizard, and then, well, it all kind of rolled out of control."

He didn't say anything, and she sighed.

"We can walk it back, if you want." He wouldn't though. Sure enough, he shook his head.

"No, I won't do that to you." He pulled back to give her a sharp look. "But I'm not thrilled at being frog-marched into it, either."

"I know." She pressed her lips tight to keep the smile off her face.

"But that doesn't mean we have to get married."

Her smile dropped off. "What do you mean? You just said-"

"Engagements aren't permanent. We can delay it long enough I'm sure." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I won't take your future just because my parents are impatient."

She shifted up. "The engagement should be enough for now, I hope." She'd pressed him enough for one day. After he'd had time to adjust, then she could help him see that a lengthy engagement wasn't practical. They could only ride the press so long before the Wizard's attention would wander to more tactical arrangements.

Fiyero shifted over and groaned, an arm bracing his shoulder.

"Dearest, you're in pain. You really ought to-"

"No pain medicine," he ground out. His head fell back. "Thank you, but I can manage."

She shuffled up. "At least can I make you some tea, then?"

"Sure."

"Honey and lemon?" He grimaced. "I'll take that to be the pain. Everyone loves honey and lemon."

She scooted off the bed, and he fell back, eyes closed. She watched him a second, just to make sure he was still breathing, and then bustled off to the kitchen.

The kettle hissed and gurgled as the water heated. She fussed with the cups and spoons. He was fine. He was going to rest and get well. She'd take care of him.

All so he could run off and murder himself again, by musket or marriage. She wanted to shake him. What would she do without him?

"Men." She ripped open the packets. "So stubborn."

Fiyero had no plans. He reacted. He needed her to think things through for them. They were only perfect together.

Once upon a time, she'd thought that for their looks, their popularity. But she wasn't infatuated with him now. His handsome face, charm, regal title? Window dressing. She loved him for the good, strong man inside. Her champion. Her shield.

The kettle whistled, and she poured the water over the leaves. But he wouldn't take care of himself. He was too brave, too certain in himself. She squeezed in the lemon. She would take care of him. She wouldn't let him suffer.

She set the tray down on the dresser. "Honey or sugar?"

"Neither," he breathed.

"Honey it is." She picked up the bottle the doctor had left and poured a careful measure. The spoon clinked as she stirred it, and she hoped the honey would disguise the flavor. She sat beside him and brought the cup to his lips. "Drink up, dearest. You need the fluids."

"Yes, Ama Glin," he teased, but he drained the cup. He leaned back, his eyelids drooping. "Anything else?"

She took the cup and smoothed his blankets up. "Get some rest. I'll be right outside."

He tipped the shadow of a nod, already fading. The cup clinked on the tray, and the rustle of sheets let her know he'd fallen asleep. Good. Just the rest he needed.

"He won't thank you for that, you know."

She spun to the window, and her breath caught. "Elphie."

The vision gazed back, so real, so damning. But then Elphie tipped a smile. "Can I come in, or are you trying to lure the Gale Force here to catch me?"

"Come in, come in." Glinda yanked her through the window and slammed the curtains shut. "You're here. Oh, Oz, you're alive."

"Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated."

She pulled her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much."

Elphaba leaned into her, so much thinner than she remembered. "I missed you, too, poppet." Elphaba released her and nodded toward Fiyero. "And how is your patient?"

"Stubborn and foolish," Glinda huffed. They shared a look of commiseration. "He's going to get himself killed someday, but at least it's not today."

Elphaba's eyes stayed trained on him. "Congratulations, by the way."

Glinda's face crumpled with confusion.

"Your engagement."

"Oh that. Just a ruse to avoid Sarima." She clutched Elphie's hand tightly. "As much as I'd love to dish about boys, you need something. I want to help."

Elphie's lips tipped up. "Maybe I just came to chat." Glinda shot her a look. "I might be able to use some information." But still her eyes flicked to Fiyero.

Glinda linked their fingers. "It's alright if you were worried about him."

Elphaba shook herself and pulled back. "No need. He has you." She turned abruptly to face Glinda. "Boq. You've seen him?"

Poor Biq. Could no one remember his name? She shook her head. "It's just awful."

"Will you help him?"

"If I can." Elphie gave her a stern look, and Glinda crossed her arms. "What are you thinking?"

"You know where he's kept?"

She shook her head. Elphie's eyes wandered back to the bed, and Glinda added, "Fiyero either. But you should stay away. The Wizard is staying close to this."

"The Wizard is a fraud."

"No less dangerous for it."

Elphie smirked. Perhaps she had a point. Elphaba was more than a little dangerous herself.

Glinda paced a step. "He might not be here yet. Nessa was giving them a hard time."

Her friend sagged.

Glinda offered a sympathetic hand. "She's not herself."

"Because of me." The uncertain look seemed foreign on Elphaba's face, but it melted like a summer fog into her usual resolve. "I have to make it right."

"We will." Glinda caught her hand. "I just can't see how."

"Leave the how to me. I need the where and when."

Her eyes fell back on Fiyero, and Glinda bit her lip. "I can find out." Even better this way. Fiyero would be above suspicion, and Glinda by far had the lighter touch. "How will I reach you?"

"I'll reach you."

Glinda nodded. "If I'm not here, Fiyero will be, at least for the next few days."

Elphaba caught her shoulder tight enough to hurt. "He can't know."

"What? Why?"

"Promise me, or I'll find my own way." Glinda frowned, a very rare occurrence. "Not a word to him about me here."

"But, surely you don't think-"

Elphaba tore her eyes from his bed to glare. "That the Captain of the Guard ought not to know where to set a trap for me?"

"It's not like that." Glinda's eyes rounded with sincerity. "He's trying to find you. To help you."

"I've experienced his help, thank you very much."

She scooped up her broom, this one thankfully not in tatters. Glinda moved toward her, and Elphie switched the broom between them with a subconscious wariness. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"You'd rather I tuck away in your closet? Where I go, trouble follows close behind."

Glinda linked their fingers. "At least stay for some tea."

"No thanks. I see how you make it."

She narrowed her eyes, but Elphie's gaze locked on the bottle beside the teacup. "Where did you get that?"

"The doctor, why?"

"Don't give him anymore." She picked up the bottle like she was in a trance. "Don't you recognize it?"

"Should I?"

"It sat in our room all last year." She turned it over. "No scratches on this one, though. Still."

She set it down with a thunk, and Glinda picked it up. The cool glass didn't stir any memories.

Elphie noticed her furrowed brow and sighed. "My mother's."

Oh! She caught Elphie's hand. "You think it came from here?"

"Maybe. But the liquid was different green. Maybe it darkens with age? Maybe it's a different thing altogether. Not worth a gamble with his life." Her eyes fell on Fiyeo again, so clouded with secrets that Glinda wanted to hug them both.

But before she could even say goodbye, Elphie vanished through the window.

Glinda rushed to see if she could find any sign, but the girl was gone. Wasn't that broom destroyed? And if Elphie made a new one, why not choose something more comfortable than a broom?

Glinda shook her head. What did it matter? Either way, Elphie was gone. Again. Poor Fiyero would be so destroyed, especially by the suspicion. Perhaps she would honor Elphie's restrictions, if only to spare him that pain.

It might be all Glinda could do. She paced over to the bed and took his hand. "My poor boy." Oz, she hoped the pain medicine was legitimate. It had been so naive of her to blindly trust the doctor, but isn't that what doctors were for? "I'm so sorry."

He didn't stir, but his breath came slow and even.

She brushed the hair from his forehead. "I can't leave you like this, but I need to do this before you talk me out of it." Or she talked herself out of it. "You understand, don't you dearest?"

His face lay smooth and unconcerned. She hadn't seen it this way for ages.

She could return before he woke up. Facing the music would be easier after the deed was done. But he'd be alone. She trusted no one to stay with him. She stroked his forehead and worried her lip.

Well, nothing for it. If she had to go, better to get it done quick.

She hopped up and set the locks on all the windows, and triple checked the door behind her. He was as safe as they ever were here, and she'd just have to be fast.

OZOZOZOZOZOZ

Glinda hated the Gale Force offices without Fiyero. Sure, she loved to flirt, and the courtyards offered plenty of men worth ogling. The few lucky times she'd seen Fiyero there, sweat dripping over muscles rippling with power, were enough to fill her most tantalizing dreams. Without her escort, though, the men avoided her as if even a glance would be disloyal.

But she'd tried everywhere else she could think, and every clock tick resounded in her brain.

"Your Goodness." A thin man with broad shoulders and sandy hair opened the door. "Is everything alright? Is the Captain-"

"Recovering well." She flashed her most goodly smile, and immediately the man averted his eyes. "He sent me to collect some things."

"Of course. I'll be happy to fetch what you need."

She set a hand on his arm. "Oh, I'd hate to trouble you. I can find them."

"Apologies, but civilians are not allowed in command." He edged back, tall imposing shoulders blocking the door. "I can deliver whatever you would wish."

If only…. She adopted a coy smile that always worked on men. "Your diligence honors you, sir, but surely you could make a little exception. My fiancé only needs some personal effects. Nothing worth disrupting your schedule."

"It's no trouble."

"They're of a sensitive nature. You wouldn't want to embarrass our dear Captain, would you?" She fluttered her eyelashes. "After all, he could hardly send a signed request."

He shifted, clearly wavering. "Still, I must insist."

"If the Wizard trusts me, shouldn't you?" She teetered on the edge of too much, and sure enough, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Your Goodness, but the Captain-"

She leaned close. "Would definitely not want you to pick up my underwear."

His eyes flicked to her, and immediately back to the ground. The officer turned purple.

"Though if you think he'd prefer it, please, feel free to retrieve and deliver them." She could see the man picturing it from his grimace. She smiled sweetly. "He's down one arm. You might stand a chance."

The officer stepped back with the door held wide. "Please be quick."

She had every intention to. She sped to Fiyero's office and shut the door. How long had she left him now?

"Come on," she muttered, shuffling amongst the papers with care. There. Transfer orders, dated tomorrow. She traced her finger down and found Biq's name (mislabeled again, poor thing).

With all the enthusiasm of next season's release dates, she committed it to memory. Then she set it back and reorganized it.

She walked to the door, thinking through the next step. Hmm, tomorrow. Not much time. How would she contact Elphie?

"Oh."

She slid off her underwear. With them tucked in her palm as a poorly concealed secret, she pushed the door open.

The officer fretted just outside.

"Found them, thank goodness."

He met her smile with a nervous dip of his head. He saw the lacy fabric, and he reddened all the way to the tips of his ears.

He gestured to escort her out.

"Thank you for your help." She paused at the door and adopted an entreating expression. "And your discretion, I hope."

The officer met her eyes, and then glanced away. "Of course, Your Goodness. The Captain can always count on me."

She beamed at him. "Thank you. And please, forget I was ever here."

"With pleasure." Then he flushed. "I mean, not that…yes, ma'am."

She strode around the corner and stifled a nervous laugh at the poor soldier's expense. He'd done his best, but what man could withstand lingerie?

"Why, Glinda." Her mirth dissolved in an instant. Sure enough, the Wizard and Morrible swept toward her. The Wizard beamed. "Just the lovely lady I'd been hoping to see."

Morrible's eyes flicked down, and her pursed lips accentuated her fish-like expression.

"Your Ozness, Madame." Glinda stuffed her panties in her pocket with burning cheeks. "How wonderful to see you."

Morrible lifted a stern eyebrow. "Easier to do if you're where you ought to be."

"How is the Captain recovering?"

"Oh, Your Ozness." Glinda let the fear and anxiety creep in her voice. "The doctor is hopeful, but I won't breathe easier until he's back on his feet."

The Wizard set a comforting arm around her. "I'm sure, my dear. So he is asleep then?"

She hoped the truth held no hidden weapon. "At the moment."

Morrible eyed her shrewdly, but the Wizard rubbed her arm with a gentle palm. "Don't worry now. Our dear doctor has some of my own magic in those prescriptions."

She twisted her hands in her skirt. Oz, she hoped not.

"We'll get him back to his proper health in no time. After all, we've got your pictures soon, or so our beloved Madame Secretary recommends." He inclined his head at Morrible, who attempted a pursed-lips smile.

"Now, dearie, we ought to get started planning your festivities. When do you and our brave Captain plan to wed?" Morrible fixed those beady eyes on her, and Glinda swallowed hard.

"I'm afraid we haven't discussed it much, having only gotten engaged yesterday."

Madame Morrible hid a frown. She set a hand on Glinda's shoulder with her sharp, lacquered nails gripping tightly. "I suppose his injury has prevented too much…" She trailed off, eyes on Glinda's pocket. "…talking."

Glinda flushed.

"But if we want to capitalize on this lovely season and its benefits for your skin tone, sooner is definitely better."

The Wizard grinned. "How wonderful. I'm sure there is no better motivation for our illustrious Captain to get back on his feet."

"Why don't you come with me, and we'll get started with the more pressing issues?" Morrible directed her forward with the hand clutching her shoulder.

Glinda paled. She edged back a step. "I'm sure all this can wait for now, yes? I really ought to get back. Fiyero needs me."

"Oh, posh, he's asleep." Madame Morrible tilted up an eyebrow. "A few quick decisions will get things rolling."

Glinda shifted and tried again, "Shouldn't we consult him?"

The two tyrants shared a smirk. The Wizard patted her hand. "I doubt our manly Captain will have many opinions on linens or color schemes."

The Wizard tucked her arm in his elbow, and Morrible flanked her other side. "Just a few little decisions, dearie. You'll be back before you know it."

Glinda worried her lip. They left no room for complaint, but Fiyero was alone, asleep, and completely vulnerable thanks to her. And they knew it.

"Your Goodness, a word?"

The trio all spun, and Glinda's heart pounded. Mercus stood there, all huge biceps and broad shoulders with a press pass dangling over his sturdy chest. "Of course." She turned and whispered to the Wizard. "Please excuse me. The public face has to stay smiling, right?" She tipped a shrug and slid free.

She fought the urge to run to him.

"If you don't mind, I really need to get back to my fiancé. Can we talk there?"

"Of course, Your Goodness."

She hurried Mercus away before they could get too good a look. She ought to be mad that he'd take such a risk, but relief swamped her fears. Still, only when she hustled him in and relocked their door did she risk a word.

"What are you doing here? Elphie sent you?"

He shook his head. "I wish." He nodded toward bed. "He alright?"

She hurried over to check, but Fiyero's chest rose and fell evenly. "I think so." Then she spun back. "Are you? He said you were there."

Mercus met her at Fiyero's bedside. "He saved my life."

She set a hand on Mercus's arm, and he winced. A long angry cut traveled its length and disappeared in his sleeve. He set his jaw.

"What can I do?"

She bit her lip. "I think I have something. Can you get help by tomorrow? There's going to be a prison transfer."

He tipped back, eyes wide with surprise.

"It would be much better if you could intercept them before they get inside the city."

He nodded. "And this prisoner is an Animal?"

"No. But no less a victim." Glinda gripped his arm carefully. "You've got to help him."

Mercus nodded, and she wrote down what she remembered. He took the page. "Will you be alright?"

Those ridiculous tears surged back, but she held them at bay. "Your timing was impeccable."

He squeezed her hand. "You know, whenever you're ready, you need only say the word." His eyes found Fiyero. "Especially now."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Not yet."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Congratulations by the way. I suppose she was right about you two getting married after all."

She smiled sadly. "We'll see. Good luck tomorrow. Please be careful."

He flashed her a roguish grin on his way through the door. "Say the word."

The click of the closing door drew a rustle of sheets in the other room. "Oh, thank Oz," she sighed. She'd been terrified she'd poisoned Fiyero with that medicine.

She rushed to his side and helped him sit up. Fiyero shook his head, his voice groggy. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours."

His eyelids drooped. "I guess you're right. I must have needed the rest."

Guilt twisted at Glinda, but she said nothing.

"Did I hear someone? What did I miss?"

Glinda wrapped her arms around him. "Nothing, dearest. Nothing important."

He settled into her without argument, and she told herself again how hurt he would be by the truth. But she felt the guilt and anxiety trickling down her face.

He pressed a kiss to her hairline. "Hey now, I'm fine, really."

She snuggled closer. "Tell me again why we can't just conk them over the head and run off."

He boomed a laugh, and then groaned. "Don't think I haven't considered it."

A thud resounded by the door, and she jumped. Fiyero frowned and tried to move, but she stopped him with a palm against his chest. At the moment, he could hardly handle danger any more than she could.

A scuff of footsteps, and then all was quiet beyond. She cracked the door open to peek out.

A girl lay prone against it, hogtied, shorn, and topped with a shiny green bow. Glinda opened the door and fell to her knees to catch her. "Un I me," the girl's voice came muffled from behind the rag shoved in her mouth.

Glinda hurried to comply, but the knots were tight. The poor girl glared as if her condition were Glinda's fault.

"What's happening?" Fiyero called from the room beyond. She heard a grunt and abandoned the girl to rush back before he foolishly tried to get up.

Too late. He staggered against the door frame, pale face contorted in pain, and Glinda draped his weight on her shoulders. "You shouldn't be up. I can help her."

But his eyes stayed on the poor girl. "Sarima?"

She glared back at him and snarled through her gag, "Hewo husban."