AN:

Hello everyone!

I have another chapter for you, and just in time for Christmas (or should I say Lurlinemas? lol)! Hooray! I hope this can serve as a wee bit of a holiday gift for all you lovely people!

Wishing you a wonderful couple of days, filled with Christmas cheer. Unless you don't celebrate Christmas, in which case I still hope that you have a great time until we meet again!

Everyone please take care and now: happy reading!

xoxo MLE

(=^_^=)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The doorbell rang, and for a split second Galinda panicked. She didn't expect anyone, didn't want to see anyone. What if the person on the other side of the door was some harbinger of bad news? She shook her head and reminded herself to think rationally. There was no reason to expect anything sinister. It was just the doorbell. Most like, the mailman and not the police or whomever else her worried mind might imagine.

She and Elphaba had had a fight. So what? Now Elphaba was gone, not answering her phone. For Oz's sake, she was probably just pissed at her! Not that she really should be; yet it was a natural, human way to react. With her head a little more level and clearer than the night before, Galinda could see that much at least. By taking a deep breath and releasing it, she forced herself to also release her wild, fearful fantasies.

"Coming," she shouted and put her mug down.

She fiddled with the keys, her hand trembling a little, obviously not following her brain's instructions not to be alarmed. When the door swung open and she raised her gaze from her own hands up to where the stranger's head would be, she looked straight into deep, dark brown eyes, set underneath a pair of expressive, furrowed brows amid a face of green.

Elphaba's jaw moved, and she looked off to the side as she shifted her weight.

"Sorry. Forgot to grab my keys on the way out."

Without a trace of hesitation, without thinking about it at all, Galinda fell into her and embraced her. Desperately. Fiercely. She took in her scent, even though it was mingled with that of dirt and exhaustion. She took in her warmth, even though it had somewhat of a humid feel to it. Despite everything that wasn't perfect, she wished that she'd never have to let go of her again.

The girl in her arms stood rigid and quiet, perhaps too startled to move or speak, or maybe too aghast. Galinda didn't care. She should be grateful that she wasn't trying to murder her then and there. Closing her eyes, the blonde pressed her cheek harder against Elphaba's chest, getting as close to her heartbeat as physically possible. She needed to hear its rhythm, needed to know if she'd managed to make it beat a little faster. She liked to think that she had.

"You had me scared to no end," she said softly and screwed her face in pain at the thought.

She hadn't meant to make such a confession. She hand't meant to embrace her like this either. She'd meant to play it cool, to let Elphaba squirm and writhe under her icy stare whenever she finally deigned to return, be it sooner or later. She'd meant to make her suffer for what she'd done to her. It wasn't easy to play it tough when the one to be punished was one's weak spot.

They stood like this for a while longer, until she finally managed to peel herself away from the taller girl. Their eyes met again, and Galinda didn't quite know what she was trying to say.

"I'm not off the hook yet, am I?" asked Elphaba.

For a moment, Galinda's look intensified to an outright glare, but she couldn't sustain it.

"Just… come in," she murmured and stepped aside to let her through.

Watching her as she passed by her, she noticed with faint satisfaction that Elphaba was wearing her head low, very much aware that the matter was not yet forgiven and forgotten. That made it easier for Galinda to allow herself to be at least somewhat hospitable.

"Are you hungry? You've been out for quite a while."

"Nah," replied Elphaba with her usual offhandedness. Stopping in front of the dining table, however, she raised her hand to awkwardly rub her neck. "Maybe a tiny bit. I haven't eaten yet."

Galinda sucked in a sharp breath that turned into a long sigh.

"Sweet Lurline. How you ever looked after yourself all on your own is beyond me."

A slice of bread with cheese was quickly prepared, together with some fruit and a glass of juice. Despite this being her first meal of the day, Elphaba consumed it agonisingly slowly and with no apparent appetite. Galinda took a seat at the far end of the table, wordlessly watching her like a hawk. Occasionally, she willed her wilful girlfriend to speak first, yet at the same time she would have been cross if she did. She liked to imagine that every minute of silence that passed between them was a minute of penance. While she couldn't for the life of her figure out how to adequately chastise Elphaba, she was appreciative of every measure of reparation that was given voluntarily.

"You know, I am still angry as hell," she said at last when Elphaba shoved the final morsel of bread in her mouth. She'd wanted to make sure to not put her off her food.

"So I gather. But I'm done apologising, you know? I said all I had to say."

A fresh wave of rage and embarrassment overcame Galinda, flushing her entire face. Her teeth clenched, and her fingernails dug into the skin of her arms. It took all the self-control at her disposal for her to keep from crying out loud and fleeing the scene. With narrowed eyes she studied Elphaba's expression, which was by no means apologetic, but certainly remorseful. Was that good enough for her? She couldn't say. Still, with the smallest sway of her head, Galinda accepted her stance.

In the background, the ticking of the wall clock felt more intrusive than usual while they remained as they were for another couple of minutes. Suddenly finding no more satisfaction in Elphaba's muteness, Galinda thought of something to say.

"I… there's a new car seat coming out next month. Very strange design. A bit too futuristic for my taste. But apparently, it's set to be the next big thing to revolutionise the market in terms of safety et cetera."

"Sounds promising," replied Elphaba after initially only nodding. "How much?"

"Don't know, don't care. If it's good we should get it."

"Well, that's your call. But we can definitely have a look at it."

They never really made up or discussed the issue any further. The tension between them remained, thought it faded somewhat over the weeks that followed. Galinda went back and forth between sleeping upstairs—but with her back to the girl beside her—and sleeping in the bed that originally was supposed to be Elphaba's. She didn't think it right to banish Elphaba from their shared bed when she herself could hardly explain her moods, but most of all, she wanted to be considerate of her comfort now that she was so close to her due date.

They were courteous with each other and took their meals together, at the very least in the evening. Considering they shared a house and a cat, neither made any obvious statements about avoiding the other, but somehow they both were astoundingly busy with their school commitments, citing the upcoming mid semester break whenever possible, so that there could be no doubt over the legitimacy of their claims. The ruse started to fall apart when the actual break began and neither girl had any assignments left to deal with, as they had all been completed long ahead of schedule.

A few days into the lecture free period, Galinda decided that a spring clean was in order. She considered her idea a stroke of genius. After all, it was a project that could take up the entire remaining ten days if she wanted it to. Elphaba looked at her funny when she first picked up a pack of disposable dusting cloths and started to go through all of the boxes on top of her walk-in wardrobe shelves, throwing out the majority that used to house items she no longer possessed. In contrast to her usual snarkiness, the green girl never said a word though.

Next, Galinda pulled out all the wheeled plastic tubs from underneath her bed, along with a large flatpack that she'd almost forgotten was still stored down there. Elphaba, who frustratingly had started to work in the same room, sorting out her meagre collection of clothes that she kept in one single drawer, cast one glance at her and made a strange noise at the back of her throat.

"Gotta decide where that's gonna go later," she commented flatly.

Galinda tore her eyes away from the picture of the cot to crane her neck and look up at her.

"Whatever is that supposed to mean?"

Elphaba fixed her gaze on the t-shirt she'd just pulled out to inspect it for holes and didn't move a muscle.

The feeling at the pit of her stomach made Galinda slightly nauseous, but she decided to push through it. This needed to be addressed as soon as possible.

"Let's… let's put it together, shall we?" she suggested, her voice thick and her mouth dry.

Turning her way, Elphaba frowned—her standard expression these days.

"You—you mean right now?"

"No, next year," the blonde scoffed. "Of course now. Come and get to work on the box while I hop downstairs to grab the toolbox."

Elphaba didn't dare argue with that.

The so called toolbox was a small set they'd picked up from the department store, containing no more than a flimsy hammer, pliers, and a simple screwdriver with various exchangeable attachments. Elphaba had made fun of it several times, but had to admit that it was all they really needed. They started with the dowels, stuffing and hammering them in all of the holes that seemed large enough to accomodate them. In the end, Galinda had to pick up the pliers and remove almost a dozen of them when Elphaba checked the sketches in the instructions and found that they'd used two of the little things in opposing holes, making it impossible to connect the parts.

"Why did they give us so many then?" complained Galinda as she pulled on a particularly stubborn one.

"Because they have an annoying tendency to break," pointed out Elphaba after one of hers snapped like a match stick.

All in all, they worked together harmoniously and steadily (if also rather quietly) and finished half of the bed without any further hiccups. But when Elphaba commandeered her to hold the wobbly pieces in place while she attached the side panel, and her mind was no longer distracted, Galinda let her gaze drift from the components on the ground, to the semi-finished bed, to her girlfriend screwing away in deep concentration. Her eyes teared up against her will and before she knew it, it was too late for her to suppress the oncoming whimper.

Elphaba noticed after she'd successfully placed the last screw and glanced up, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't want us to be like this," she pressed out while also trying to hold back a full-blown breakdown. "This distance between us. It doesn't feel natural. I hate it."

Putting her tool down, Elphaba leaned back on her haunches to consider her. It took her a painfully long while to make up her mind as to what she should say, and when she finally did speak, all she had to offer was, "What do you propose?"

The tears intensified at that. Annoyed with herself, Galinda wiped at her face to remove them.

"D—do you not care at all about what becomes of our relationship?"

Brown eyes widened briefly before Elphaba's gaze fell to the ground. She looked rather abashed, but Galinda no longer knew if she could read her all that well.

"I hope you couldn't possibly believe this in earnest," Elphaba muttered, and Galinda released a shuddering breath of relief. She swallowed the mucus in her throat and twitched her nose.

"No. I guess not," she replied.

"Good."

Elphaba didn't expand on that and seemed to have no intentions to continue this conversation. Frustrated, Galinda bit her lip and tightened her hands around the piece of wood she was still propping up. Why, if Elphaba did indeed care, would she leave her in the lurch like this? Did she really have to tickle the truth out of her?

"You know," she began hesitantly, "I firmly believe that we've come into each other's lives for a reason. And I don't feel like we've come full circle just yet. Neither of us has. We still have work left to do, don't we?"

"Is that over the top poetic or what?"

Elphaba's smile was skeptical.

"Well, what do you think?" countered Galinda trying hard to let Elphaba's somewhat snide remark slide, for both of their sakes.

"I think…" Elphaba was either unsure about her own perspective or reluctant to voice it.

"Go on," urged Galinda, bracing herself for the worst. "Give me something, anything."

Hiding her face behind a curtain of thick, black strands, the other girl hemmed and hawed.

"Well, I do think that things would have turned out very differently without you. And for some reason that I can't exactly explain, I'm grateful that they panned out the way they did. Whatever happens next, well, you've completely changed my trajectory."

Ambiguous till the end, thought Galinda. Pure Elphaba.

But then the other girl lifted her head enough for her hair to fall back and reveal a soft smile.

"For the better," she said gravely. "I honestly do believe that."

"So all of this… it wasn't for nothing?" Galinda asked hopefully, and Elphaba's slightly quirked lips formed a stunned O shape.

"For nothing?" she exclaimed, incredulous. "Galinda. Those few months were everything."

Hearing the words, Galinda was done for. Tears now flowing freely across her face, she abandoned her side of the bed, not caring whether it was stable enough to stand on its own just yet and threw herself onto her knees in front of Elphaba.

"Then why don't you say it like that outright?" she half laughed, half sobbed, grabbing her hands.

"I—I guess I—I—I t—tried," spluttered Elphaba in reply.

"And you're not just saying it now to make me feel better?"

Elphaba decidedly shook her head.

"You know that I'd never just say things for the sole reason to please. I"—she couldn't help but grin at that—"I haven't changed that much."

Believing Elphaba was one of the easiest things in the world for Galinda, even now. She didn't always like what the green girl had to say, or sometimes Elphaba didn't say anything at all when Galinda really wished she would. But one thing was for sure: if Elphaba Thropp made a statement, it was reliable and worth her trust. So she believed her. She believed her and she captured her lips, despite all the things that were still standing between them, despite the residual anger deep within her that had not yet abated completely.

Thrown off balance, Elphaba nearly fell on her but managed to support herself by jutting out her right arm. Either way, the kiss was broken and Galinda recognised with alarm the marks some of her tears had left on Elphaba's cheeks, chin and neck.

"Shit! I'm so sorry. How many times will I make that same dumb mistake!"

"As often as you need to," said Elphaba soothingly. Then, as dauntless as she could possibly be, she put her face against Galinda's and kissed her.

Galinda slept in their shared bed that night. She solemnly told herself that she wouldn't sleep in the downstairs bed ever again. Tired from the day's physical work and emotional interlude, they'd drifted off fairly quickly, holding each other for the first time in weeks. When Galinda woke up from a confusing dream, however, the taller girl had turned her back to her, facing towards the cot that was now complete and positioned on her side of the bed.

Unable to tell whether Elphaba was awake or sleeping, Galinda shuffled closer and nestled against her. She put her arm around her as well as she could, and to her surprise, long fingers curled around her wrist. Other than that, there was no movement or sound from Elphaba. After a moment's wait, Galinda pulled herself up to a sitting position to make sure she was okay.

Elphaba's eyes were wide open, as she'd more or less expected. They were staring almost unblinkingly at the cot.

"This is happening soon, isn't it?" said Galinda softly, and Elphaba's lips twitched ever so slightly.

"A few more weeks."

She sounded calm, but it was more like the calm before a storm than genuine serenity.

"But it could be any day. You never know," Galinda reminded her—not to unsettle her, but to make sure that she was mentally prepared. To make sure she knew that it would be okay either way.

In the silence that followed the gears in her brain once again set into motion. She stopped staring at Elphaba who was no more responsive than in her sleep and followed her gaze, studying every inch and corner of the cot instead. It was white with a carved headboard. They'd already put on the bedsheets—very light blue with dark blue, grey and white clouds—and attached a mobile which accurately represented the solar system, but in baby-like pastel colours.

There was a thought, one particular thought that simply wouldn't leave her alone. It had bothered her for weeks now, and what bothered her the most was the fact that it bothered her at all. She felt ashamed for harbouring it, and her fear that Elphaba might find out about it probably had played a part in waking her up just then.

Considering how keeping secrets had previously worked out for them, she was tempted to tell her almost on a daily basis. But somehow, each time she came close to doing so, she realised anew how cruel and hurtful the words could be for Elphaba and swallowed them whole, each time hoping the same thoughts would not rear their ugly heads again.

But that had been before their very recent reconciliation. Maybe now, riding on that wave of euphoria and reunification, it was time to broach the topic? After all, it seemed entirely unshirkable. It probably had to be dealt with sooner or later. Maybe the pesky feelings would go away once spoken out loud? She licked her lips.

"Elphie?"

"Hm?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

"Oh?"

Her chest swelled with an anxiety that nearly threatened to paralyse her. In the silence of the room, she wondered whether Elphaba might hear the drumming of her heart.

"Go on," encouraged Elphaba, and she swallowed hard.

"I… I must admit… that I find it difficult. You know? Knowing. Knowing definitively that Fiyero…"

"Is the father?"

A feint nod.

"Me too," sighed Elphaba and Galinda's spine straightened in response.

"Wait. You do?"

"Of course. Before it was just—"

"Us," Galinda completed the sentence. She blushed at her own presumptuousness. When Elphaba did not immediately affirm her answer, her breath caught.

"Yeah," Elphaba said at last, mercifully easing Galinda's panic. "It's such a strong reminder of how the entire situation unfolded in the first place," she continued after a small pause. "And of the fact that someone else played a major part in this child's creation."

"It—it makes me feel inadequate to be so blatantly confronted with the hard truth that I had nothing to do with it at all," confessed Galinda, burying her face in Elphaba's shoulder and squeezing her eyes shut.

Carefully, Elphaba shifted onto her back then, though she couldn't stay in that position for long. She cradled Galinda's head against her chest and ran her fingers through her messy curls.

"But love and nurture are stronger than genetics, right?" she gently reminded her of her own words, and Galinda chuckled against her smooth skin.

"Of course," she said slowly, her tongue feeling a tad heavy. The troubled feeling in her chest had not quite disappeared yet. "Are you… upset? That I have these reservations? After all, it isn't fair, is it?"

"It wouldn't be fair of me to deny your feelings on the matter. I suppose they are reasonable, looking at them from a certain angle. But if you want us to be a family, this is it. Our only chance, the only way. We both have to accept this."

"And I never meant to say that I won't," the blonde asserted firmly.

Elphaba removed her hand from Galinda's hair and reached out for hers. She placed it square on her belly, still covered with her own.

"You're the only one who even has as much as a clue of what this journey has been like. No one has a better claim to call themselves this baby's parent."

"Except for you," grinned Galinda, finally feeling a whole lot better.

Elphaba gave a small snort and looked preciously self-conscious.

"I guess. But you see my point?"

Instead of using words, Galinda replied with a sweet kiss.

"We should catch some more sleep," she whispered in between caresses. "While we still can." And once they both felt just reassured and calm enough, they did.

Things between them were, well, better. Still, thy weren't perfect by a long shot. The girls were stupidly polite to each other and terribly considerate—something they'd comfortably dropped the last time they'd become truly close and intimate. Elphaba had resumed to buy sausages and chicken breast and cold meat cuts for Galinda, and Galinda was going out of her way to ensure that the entire house was perfectly quiet when Elphaba was reading or working on her essays.

School recommenced on September nineteenth, almost a whole month after Fiyero's birthday party. Galinda dropped Elphaba off at Doctor Dillamond's office, as per any other Monday this semester. Only on this particular Monday, the old Goat looked thoroughly astonished to find them on the other side of his office door.

"My, you are exceedingly dedicated, Miss Elphaba," he remarked with a chuckle.

Behind her, Galinda giggled, while Elphaba pulled her shoulders back with pride.

"Next she will enquire whether it's acceptable to bring an infant in a carrier to the lab," she said with a wide grin.

"Well, no. But we do offer an excellent creche service, as far as I'm aware."

His warm eyes looked at them both in turns, and even Galinda couldn't deny how fond she was of her former lecturer. After ensuring one more time that Elphaba was up for the job, he dropped the key to his lab in her open hand. They'd arrived too early for class, so Galinda accompanied her for a few minutes.

"Are you going to be named in the paper he's working on?" she wondered as she helped her girlfriend with the microscope and all the other necessary preparations.

"I'm a student handmaid,"replied Elphaba casually, "not his co-worker. I barely understand yet what he means half of the time when he dictates his findings to the computer."

"Not sure if I fully believe that."

Unfortunately, she had to leave her after that in order to head to Design Technology. On her way across Uni Square, she was ambushed.

"I'm in a rush and have no time to talk," she said firmly, not looking up into her former friend's eyes.

"I can walk with you," he insisted.

"Spare me! A stroll to Ev wouldn't be long enough to sort out this chaotic mess between us. I think it would be easier for everyone involved if we simply went our separate ways from now on."

"Wait!"

He reached out to grab her wrist and spun her around. Their eyes met, and she glared at him. His shocked expression suggested that maybe he hadn't planned on reacting quite so forcefully. It didn't matter. Trying to remind herself of everything that he'd done, she levelled him with all the intensity she could muster. To no avail. Either daring or foolhardy, he took a step forward.

She slapped him.

She slapped him, and he hardly flinched. And he continued to hold on to her wrist.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said as if nothing had happened. "But I thought we could still be friends. Can't you give us a chance?"

"Go away," she pressed out between clenched teeth.

"I don't know how to make up for what happened with your girlfriend, but if you let me, I'll try and—"

"Go away!" she shouted at full volume, with no regard as to who might overhear them.

Pain shot through her wrist as she yanked her arm free and she winced, rubbing it. Losing no time, she stormed off, but he wasn't that easily deterred. Affording her a measure of distance between them, he effortlessly kept up with her pace.

"For what it's worth," he said, barely out of breath, "I never meant for any of this to happen. I still don't know what occurred exactly, but it wasn't what I'd intended."

She swallowed the remark at the tip of her tongue, she swallowed the tears that she could feel pricking at the corners of her eyes. She concentrated on pressing on. The Arts Building was pretty close.

"You've got a great taste in girls, you know?" he tried again. "I really did like her. I liked flirting with her. But I swear, I never planned on—I mean, I might have asked her if she wanted to meet up again, or—yeah, I admit it: I maybe I would have asked her if she—"

"Elphaba!" Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, Galinda stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face him. "Her name is Elphaba."

"Elphaba." He took a moment to try the feel of her name on his lips.

It was her chance to take off and leave him far behind, to take an unexpected turn and disappear on him. Instead, she simply stood there, fuming.

"What the hell is wrong with you? She recalls your name just fine. One wouldn't expect it to be so impossible for you to remember hers! Or would that be too many names for your poor brain to hold on to? How many girls have you screwed since your arrival here in Shiz? Can you remember their faces at all?"

"You know that I'm not like that!" he protested. "You know it."

Crossing her arms, she turned on her heel, but she didn't run away.

"Besides… she probably remembers my name because I gave it to her. She didn't afford me the same curtesy."

She cast him a sharp look but had to admit to herself that his story wasn't all that unlikely. Yes, she admitted wordlessly with the lowering of her head, that would be just like her.

Fiyero walked up to her, without coming too close. Barely glancing in his direction, she saw him standing with his hands in his pockets, his head also bowed, and his toes pointed inward.

"Look," he began after a moment of silence, heaving a heavy sigh. "I will leave you alone if that's what you want. I mean both of you. I'll never talk to either of you ever again, I promise." He turned his head to look straight at her and waited until she finally followed suit. "There's just one last thing I need to ask you."

She already knew what he was going to ask, didn't she? Was there any way to prevent him? Of course not.

"Yes," she replied meekly, unable to maintain their eye contact. "She's pregnant, and no, she hasn't been with any other men besides you."

His lips parted in wonder, and yet his reaction was controlled enough to indicate that he wasn't entirely gripped by surprise. Why would he be? Galinda had never taken him for a complete and utter fool. Only for a reckless scoundrel, an insensitive bastard.

"It doesn't matter," she huffed. "She doesn't want anything from you. They'll both have everything they could possibly need."

He nodded.

"I understand. And I'm grateful. But there must be something that I can do? I'm at least partly responsible."

"No need for gratitude or grand gestures. She kept the child out of her own free will, without consulting you. You are absolved of any responsibility, do you hear? You can disappear now. Don't look back, don't ponder over what became of that tiny shred of your DNA. None of this has anything to do with you any longer."

"Well, I can't change the fact that I'm tied to this baby. What if he grows up and asks for his father?"

"Unfortunate circumstances," was her tart and clipped answer.

"You're being cruel." Fiyero shook his head and shuffled about an inch closer. "Not to me. To the child, I mean."

"Elphie wouldn't have found you if it hadn't been for our unfortunate, purely coincidental friendship." The word felt like acid on her tongue. Next time, she swore to herself, she'd avoid it at all cost. If there was a next time. "You see, she never thought to look for you. She reckoned you were long gone. A traveller most like, or a guest worker."

"So you're going to lie to that kid? For his whole life?"

"It's better that way," she maintained, but her lip hurt from how hard she'd been chewing on it.

"Listen! This entire situation is miserable enough as it is. My position complicates things, too. But illegitimate children aren't a new concept to any monarchy. Things like this can be handled."

Her mouth dropped open and her breath hitched. She hadn't even thought of this before! Had Elphie? Pure horror written all over her face, she lifted her chin and stared point blank at the Arjiki Prince.

"No one must ever know," she said, feeling faint. "Never."

"Why? Because the Vinkus' most eligible married bachelor had an affair with a green girl? Come on, Galinda, you're not that superficial."

He was kind of joking now, and if she hadn't been so distracted by her own realisation, she might have slapped him again.

"Oz, Fiyero you don't have the slightest inkling."

The smirk on his face disappeared promptly and was replaced by his deepest frown.

"What? Tell me then. If it's that important, I really need to know."

"You don't," Galinda declared with finality. "Fiyero. An accidental sperm emission does not a father make. The child already has two parents and will be well loved and provided for. You're not, in any capacity, required."

He gave an impatient jerk of his head but grumpily hummed his assent.

"You know what? Fine. If that's her will, I can accept that. But you know what else? I'll need to discuss that with Elphaba in person."

"I don't know if that's a good—"

"For fuck's sake! You're insufferably stubborn aren't you? She's a grown woman, Galinda. She'll be a mother soon. I'm sure she can handle that much at least?"

She didn't appreciate being scolded like that. She didn't appreciate him probably being right. More or less. But she had to admit that Elphaba wasn't all that fragile. In many ways, she was a lot tougher than she was. Whom was she trying to protect by preventing a meeting between the two of them? Elphaba? Or herself?

"I—I don't know. I…" Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "Alright."

"Alright?" he asked. His eyes that had become tired over the course of their conversation lit up with renewed energy.

"Yes. I'll—I'll let her know. I'll inform her about your wish to talk to her, and I'll give her your number. But it will be up to her whether she contacts you or not."

"That's all I ask. Provided you're not just duping me."

"I wouldn't sink that low," she said assertively, pulling back her shoulders. Although she had to confess, at least to herself, that the thought had occurred to her.

Later that evening Galinda reluctantly handed Elphaba her phone.

"You're really sure about this?"

For a few moments, her girlfriend's attention was completely captivated by the name on the screen. Then, she blinked and looked up at her, a wavering smile flashing across her stern face.

"Yeah."

The blonde nodded slowly and turned her head away, trying to find something interesting to focus on somewhere outside the window.

The ringback tone sounded. It was faint, but the room was so still that she could hear it despite Elphaba not using the speaker function.

It rang once, twice, three times, then it stopped. The voice that answered was inaudible.

"Hi. Uh, Fiyero?

"Yeah. Hi. This is Elphaba."