­Notes: Bumped the rating up to PG-13, as Elphaba can't seem to keep her language clean.

Word of Glinda's so-called experiment with pyrotechnics spread quickly through Shiz. Nessarose gave Elphaba one of her extra blankets to replace the one that had been scorched. ­ Milla, Pfannee, and Shenshen provided a replacement rug (in an eye-watering shade of pink). The Amas who had borne witness left flowers outside the door.

Glinda was delighted, and although Elphaba claimed she could appreciate altruism as much as the next person, she thought it was silly for anyone to leave flowers. "It's not as if the room died, you know," she pointed out. "Sorry to disappoint the florists, but it's nobody's funeral."

"Silly, they're for you. Don't you ever read the cards?" Glinda retorted, and put them in vases all over the room. "Commendations and the like. Of course, some of them are get-well presents for me," she added.

"Or job offers," Elphaba reminded her. The day before, someone had left an anonymous letter praising Glinda for her skill and asking why she hadn't set Madame Morrible's office up in flames instead.

The boys' college had apparently caught wind of the affair as well. The next time they met, Crope and Tibbett presented Glinda with a fanciful scroll proclaiming her to be a true sorcerer. "All the great ones have at least one good case of spontaneous combustion to their credit," Tibbett stated sagely. Boq gave her a pair of gloves, large enough to fit over her wrapped hands. Avaric made the inevitable warning against levitating them. Fiyero provided an ointment used for healing by warriors in the Vinkus. For her part, Elphaba­ avoided the limelight and relayed the entire story to Ama Clutch as the woman earnestly addressed her bedpan.

Rather than drinking up enough attention for both of them, as Galinda undoubtedly would have, Glinda took to disappearing for hours at a time. When questioned, she would distractedly reply she was studying for a special project. Elphaba could only hope it didn't involve levitation.

After nearly two weeks had passed, the incident was more or less forgotten.

On a midweek morning several days after the flowers and applause had ceased to arrive, Elphaba rose early, as she usually did, the better to wash up before any of the other girls were up and about. Leaving the lights off so as not to wake Glinda, she groggily went about gathering comb, soap, and oil. Something looked strange in the odd half-light of the room, but she was still too sleep-fogged to determine what it was and dismissed it as a product of some lingering dream. Yawning, she headed for the lavatory.

The hall was empty and much brighter than the room had been. For some reason, Elphaba's brain sleepily informed her, this was important. Something was nagging at her, something big. Halfheartedly, she made an effort to puzzle out what it was. Wait. Elphaba froze in mid-yawn.

She was suddenly wide awake. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. But it made no sense. Disjointed thoughts were tumbling through her head, becoming more and more confusing. The harder she tried to piece them together, the faster they swirled. It's not possible. She clenched her jaw impatiently, squeezing her eyes shut, hands clasping her head as if she would pull it off, trying to physically force her thoughts into something even remotely logical. How could it happen? Exhaling vehemently, Elphaba flung her arms down and fisted her hands.

Her arms. Her hands.

And, abruptly, it all gave way, and the only thing in Elphaba's head was an echo of Glinda's voice the night of the fire, uncharacteristically soft and solemn.

"I'll do you a favor you'll never forget."

Elphaba was not given to screaming, but if this wasn't cause for exception she didn't know what was.

"Glinda!" she screamed.

Glinda darted into the hallway, wearing a lavender nightgown and a stricken expression. Her jaw dropped when she saw the cloud of fury that was her roommate. "Elphie!"

"What did you do?" Elphaba shrieked.

"Elphie, calm down! It worked!"

The note of wonder in Glinda's voice sounded like a deliberate insult. "Worked!" Elphaba roared.

"Yes, it worked!" She was smiling. Intolerable.

Elphaba threw a bottle of oil at her as hard as she could. It shattered against the wall; Glinda flinched when she was spattered. "Damn it, what did you do? What did you do?" She repeated the question over and over, louder and shriller each time, reaching a fever pitch, but never receiving an answer.

Doors were starting to open and inquisitive heads were appearing. Publicity was the last thing she needed. Elphaba swung her hair forward over her face and ran back down the hall. She grabbed Glinda by the elbow on her way. "We have to talk," she growled, dragging her into their room and slamming the door behind them.

Nanny was pounding on the adjoining door. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, fine, just a misunderstanding!" Elphaba called back quickly. "Go back to sleep."

­Her voice sounded perfectly calm, but her face was creased with anger and distress, and it crumpled as she turned back towards Glinda into an expression that on anyone else would have immediately preceded tears. The thickness of her voice when she spoke again also seemed indicative of them, but Elphaba's face remained dry. "Glinda," she rasped through clenched teeth. "Tell me what the hell you've done."

"I told you I would." Glinda was clasping her hands, now healed, in front of her as if they could serve as a shield.

"Told me what, Glinda?"

"I told you I would do you a favor," Glinda answered, holding her head high. "And I did."

"A favor I'd never forget, wasn't that it?" Elphaba questioned with a mildness too sweet to be genuine.

"Exactly."

"I see. Well, fucking congratulations! I can personally assure you I will never forget this as long as I live, which, circumstances being what they are, looks like it's going to be a hell of a lot longer than you'll live."

Glinda swallowed. "But…you don't…"

"You don't just change someone without telling them," her roommate raged.

"I was so sure you'd like it," she said lamely.

"You never asked," barked Elphaba.

"You were green, Elphie," Glinda practically screamed in a whisper. "You hated it and everyone knew it. You can't miss being green." Rapidly, she lit a lamp and seized a hand mirror from her dresser. "Here, just look at yourself now."

Elphaba snatched the mirror from Glinda's hand and dashed it to pieces against the wall.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

"You were green," Glinda finally repeated, her face set. "You were green and now you're not anymore, so if you're so determined not to appreciate it, you'd better at least get a good look at it."