A/N: I'm ba-a-ack:does happy dance: This took me since MAY to write; I've been slaving over paper and pencil for months for you guys! (C'mon, you know I missed you guys!) Be patient - the rest of the unfinished fics are yet to come.:grabs giant cartoon mallet and beats stories into submission: I'm working on them.

note to Viva-Taquitos - Nov. 1. Be there, hun. How much longer till then?...lol

Chapter 6

Fiyero pulls Elphaba's hair out of its customary knot at the nape of her neck, not really realizing what he's doing. It spills down her back in long black waves, and he runs his fingers through it. As his hand skims over her back, he can feel her slight body shaking from the silent sobs she's been trying in vain to hold back. For the most part, no sound escapes her mouth, aside from the rare gasp she can't control.

"Calm down, shhh." he murmurs, his mouth resting against the top of her head. He wishes there was something else for him to say; from his perspective, he hasn't done much to put her at ease, or at least, what passes for at ease in Elphaba. It's very awkward, where he is right now, but at the same time he thinks it's kind of nice, in some twisted way. He's glad she hasn't pulled away, but he wonders how long it will last. So for now, he continues stroking her hair, and hopes that she'll warm up to him.

She hasn't the slightest idea how long he's been holding her. To be absolutely truthful, if she'd really let herself feel, she wouldn't care. For the last heavens know how long her tears have been falling, soaking his shoulder. The violent tremors lancing through her have in turn been shaking him. But he's been patient. He's let her use his shirt to dry her eyes each time she's needed to. She's trembled but he's held her all the same. And he's never faltered. He hasn't yet stopped tracing slow rhythmic circles on her back. She is grateful for both his presence and his patience.

Eventually she feels herself quieting. It's slow coming, but all the same the sobs start to lessen in frequency. The tears take longer to cease, continuing in their descent down her face even after the shaking stops. She is exhausted. A mild ache settles deep into her bones and she seems to sag a little, her face still pressed to his shoulder.

But all too soon, as she rests with Fiyero, reality begins to squeeze at her lungs, forcing the breath from her chest. Her heart pounds, like a bird throwing itself against the bars of its cage. She knows she can't stay here, like this. She knows it won't last. Worst of all, she knows she'll get hurt. She's walked right into the treacherous waiting arms of the very situation she'd intended to at all costs avoid.

A last dry sob escapes her. She feels his lips move against her hair as she tries to tear herself away. "It's okay, Elphaba. Everything's okay…" His voice is quiet, holding warmth she's never heard from anyone else before. She wants so badly to stay just where she is for as long as she possibly can, but her traitorous common sense reasons away all desires. She shouldn't kid herself. It will only make things harder in the end.

"No, no it's not, It's not okay. It'll never be…" she stammers, voice breaking as she pushes herself away from him. Averting her eyes and wiping last remnants of tears from her skin, she stumbles backward, tucks her loose hair behind her ears, and waits for the hollow ache in her chest to go away.

"I can't stay here. I'm going to put you in more danger that you're already in, I'm -" With clumsy, tired hands she goes to gather up her broom and the small bag she always wears slung across her chest. "You stay here, before I - ruin - something else."

"What are you talking about?" Fiyero asks, standing and following her. He doesn't want her to go. He's come to enjoy her company, loves her quick wit, the shy way she avoids speaking about herself or even to him at all unless he asks her to, everything. He can't let her slip away. "You can't go out there by yourself! It's way too dangerous for someone to walk through these trees alone -"

"I've lived the better part of my life taking care of myself. What makes you think I won't be able to manage it this time? What makes you think it'll be any different?" she shoots back at him, back turned, trying to make the ice in her voice mask her desperate sadness. He catches up to her as she goes to leave and grabs her wrist swinging at her side. Gently he pulls her hand and she turns with it, standing in front of him but turning her face the other way.

"Let go of me." she murmurs. She can't bring herself to look at him.

"What's up? What's the matter?" he asks, keeping his tone relatively soft and bringing his hand up to push a few wayward strands of black silk behind her ear. He won't let go of her. She turns her face again, refusing to let him touch her cheek. She breaks free of his grip, wrenching her arm away and turning her back on him once more. The motion is sharp – it's to keep her gaze from lingering on his face. She can't bear to look at him still. He is only one more among thousands, a world of people and loathing, closing in and robbing her of the little things she used to love. Like the sky. Pain resonates throughout, tired and helpless. Love has always hurt, but this goes beyond just hurt. This puts most everything she's ever felt to shame.

"Look, I know I'm not wanted here. It's no different from anywhere else I've been or anyone else I've known, and it makes no difference to – you know what? Forget I said anything. It doesn't matter." No, of course it doesn't.

Fiyero can't stand the sight of her so hurt. How could she convince herself of such things? He calls after her in a last-ditch effort to try and get her to stay.

"I want you here."

She freezes, stiffening. :How can he expect me to believe…: The thought is interrupted when he comes to stand close behind her. Her breath catches as she feels his hands fall light upon her shoulders, sliding down her arms until his palms cover the backs of her hands. His fingers lace themselves through hers. She is terribly aware of how his chest touches her back. Why does she all of a sudden find herself afraid all over again? He wants her here; she should be happy. And she is happy, but fears that if she lets herself feel…what will happen next? Gently she disentangles her hands from his, and turns to face him.

Fiyero looks at her, really sees her now. The shy eyes, guarded words, nervous hands, silent hidden strength, and the fathomless emptiness where she lacks the companionship she so longs for. He thinks…he thinks he might love her. But he's afraid to say. Instead, he takes a different approach.

"I told you that…that I want you with me. But…what about you?" This time he's the one to shift his gaze. Her stare has become intense. "I'll…I'm sorry, I'm being too forward, I…" :Heavens, I'm botching this beyond belief…: is his only frustrated thought.

She bites her lip, looks up at him. Her eyes glitter. He is so beautiful, and he wants her… She knows, somehow she knows he means what he says, and above all she wants to be with him, no matter how much her head tells her otherwise.

"Fiyero…" He nods, running his fingers through his hair. He's never been so nervous before.

I…want to stay here…with you."

He looks at her, a little dazed. Has he heard that correctly? Thank whatever powers that be he recovers fairly quickly from the shock. "Wow, and I was bracing myself for something on the complete other end of the spectrum!" he says without really thinking, then realizes the error of his speech. "I mean, you – you're sure? You want…me?" The words are hurried, but start to fade at the end, unsure. She offers a lukewarm smile; for once she's not the one tripping over her tongue. She turns her face away, shy again, but the smile remains.

"I do." Is her quiet response. It's hard for her to say, to let her guard down like this. But it's worth it.

A dopey grin spreads across his face, and her tentative smile stretches a little wider. "I'm glad." He says softly, but his beautiful blue eyes are relieved as his smile mutes itself to that of quiet joy.

She nods. "Me, too."

The grass rustles, swaying in the light breezes that herald the coming of early summer. Mottled sunlight makes the green shades of the ground shift and dance around each other, dappling the bodies of the black-clad woman staring into space and the still-groggy man striding toward her.

"Hey," Fiyero says. It startles Elphaba from her reverie. She turns her head to see him and smiles. She smiles more readily now, he notices.

"Morning." she answers as he drops down beside her. He lets his gaze linger a moment on her face. Only two days have passed since they arrived in the forest, and already he can see the small changes manifesting themselves in her demeanor.

"My, aren't we all bright and chipper this morning." His words, though they jest, drip with sarcasm. He yawns. "Sun and stars, when did you wake up?"

"Two hours ago."

"Is it just me, or do you enjoy being sleep-deprived?" he laughs.

"I've always woken up early. Mostly I just sit and watch the sunrise." The sky seems kinder now, in a way. However, she casts her eyes down, acknowledging with a pang of sadness that she can never hope to possess even a fraction of its loveliness. Her fingers thread themselves through the carpet of grass and her fist clenches around the green blades before she brings her gaze back skyward.

The brightness in Fiyero's eyes fades a bit as he watches her stare into the brilliant watercolor hues painting the heavens. "What happened?" he asks, reaching up to brush her cheek with a finger.

"What is it?" Startled, she brings her own hand up to cover the place where his skin touched hers.

He speaks in a voice deep and soft, in tones one might use to calm a skittish young cat. "I don't know. One moment you were smiling into the sunrise, and then all of a sudden your face fell. Something that was there before died."

"Oh," she says in a rush of breath. "No, it's of no importance. When I get lost in thought, I – my face just goes blank, that's all." A muted blush creeps through her skin and she turns her face away, pretending to scan the trees for Chistery to discourage any furthering of the discussion. He can tell she doesn't really wish to be pursued in the matter, so he lets it drop. Something at the back of his mind tells him that whatever it is will rise again eventually.

The day progresses between them as companionably as possible, though with the advent of the morning's sunrise came the dawning of new waves of doubt that wash through Elphaba's thoughts. Shadows of it blanket her, clawing at her eyes and out her throat whenever she looks to Fiyero or speaks; not through any fault of Fiyero's, but her own self-doubt. It wrenches and tears at her insides until the sky turns to black velvet and the opressive sunlight draws back in favor of the moon.

Chistery pads over to her and stands watching as she rubs beeswax into the handle of her broomstick. Her hand slides easily into the depression formed by years of use, and she pauses with it there for a moment. The monkey takes the opportunity to pat at her arm a few times to grab her attention, and reach for the wax she's been holding.

"You want to try, huh?"

Chistery nods with a vengeance.

"Alright, then, if you must."

The little creature takes the offered wax and uses it to rub an uneven patch on the handle. After a little while he tires of it, hands her back what's left of the stuff, and toddles off in Fiyero's direction. With a heavy sigh Elphaba falls back into a steady rhythm, smoothing out the obnoxious mound of wax Chistery managed to stick to the handle. But as soon as she's resumed her work she is interrupted again as the monkey shoots off to hide behind her back while Fiyero shouts mild obscenities at it.

"What's going on now?" she sighs again, just a bit irritated.

"He stole my apple!" Fiyero points an accusing finger at Chistery, who happens to be holding the incriminating fruit in both hands and munching away contentedly.

"Well, I don't think you'll want it back now." she replies.

"Yeah, well…it's the principle of the thing!" he sputters, glaring at the little thief clambering into Elphaba's lap. Once the monkey's settled himself, she maneuvers her arms around him and continues servicing her broom.

"Where'd the wax come from?"

"There's a broken hive somewhere off to your left. Nothing lived there anymore, so I helped myself to some of what was left of the wax." Her words are brisk, businesslike to match the strokes of her hands over the broom handle. "If I don't do this every so often, the thing starts to splinter. It was old even before I started using it." she finishes, noticing the slightly puzzled look Fiyero's been giving her.

Yet he doesn't stop watching her even after she's satisfied his curiosity, and it's making her more than a little uncomfortable. She endures his stare for as long as she possibly can, then sets both the broom and wax aside.

"Is there any particular reason you're staring at me like a dumbstruck boor?" she says a little too sharply. She is altogether sick of people gawping at her like she's some unfortunate attraction in a freak show. After all these years you'd think she'd be used to it, but that doesn't make it any less of a sensitive subject.

Instead of reacting like she expects him to, Fiyero holds out his hand to her. "Walk with me?" he asks.

Elphaba looks at him with guarded eyes, but takes the hand he offers. As soon as she is on her feet, though, she lets it go and scratches Chistery between the wings.

"That monkey really likes you, doesn't he?"

"I suppose. At least, he seems to. I'm glad of it, at any rate. The wings are my fault." Fiyero gives her another puzzled look. "I was…misled…into casting a spell on the poor thing." she explains. "That must've hurt, growing those wings in so quickly, right little friend?" Chistery curls up in her arms, exposing more of his back for her to scratch. She bestows an affectionate smile upon the creature, and kisses the top of his furry head.

"Lucky monkey."

"Oh, please." The dry edge to Elphaba's voice rips into herself more than it does Fiyero. He can't think of anything to say that won't sound like some cheap, stupid cliché.

And so, silence ensues, leaving Elphaba with another unwanted opportunity to lose herself in thought. She can't take this anymore.

"Why?"

"'Why' what?"

"Why are youhere?"

"I'm here because if we didn't get out sorry carcasses out of the City when we did we would've been caught and killed!"

"No, no!" she answers; a note of desperation makes her voice elevate. "Why are you here at all?"

Chistery doesn't like this turn of conversation. The tone Elphaba uses makes him nervous, and he wriggles out of her arms to scamper back in the direction they'd come.

Fiyero hesitates, taking advantage of the short pause to take her in. He hasn't seen Elphaba this tightly wound since they attended Shiz University. It's as if every muscle in her body is a coiled spring straining to be released. It makes him extremely uneasy, and for the briefest instant he considers feeding her a lie; anything to make her stay. Yet the very second it enters his head the notion is dismissed. Better to go out on a limb with the truth than be haunted by a lie.

"I'm here because you are kind and hurting and terribly, terribly brave." he says, almost at a murmur. He waits on bated breath for her reaction.

Her eyes widen. She wasn't expecting this. "I'm afraid I…I don't follow you. I didn't know you, never meant anything to you –"

"Yes, yes you did, Elphaba." She falls silent, and when she says no more, Fiyero goes on. "The Lion cub, and that crazy new professor – you froze everyone but me that day." She nods; she'd never been able to forget it.

"Anyway, I…something happened. I don't know how to explain it, but I guess I started seeing you differently. You didn't seem to think I was stupid, like everyone else did. I didn't realize how much that meant to me until you left for the Emerald City and never came back, and – gods, I sound even more like an idiot every time I open my mouth…" He glances at her; much to his surprise, she's smiling. Her face is flushed, tinges of rose seeping into the green, and her gaze is averted.

"Nice to know I managed to reach someone." Her voice is almost bitter, and when she looks up he can see that that the smile doesn't reach her eyes. They're still bright with sadness. "Looks like you're the only one who ever actually listened to me."

"Hey," he says, letting his hand fall to her shoulder and skim down her arm, "One's better than none, isn't it?" His fingers curl themselves around hers and she doesn't hesitate to fit her hand against his. Her eyes grow warmer, a little less sad. Fiyero's hope lifts; he never expected her to respond the way she is.

"Don't tear yourself apart." he tells her. "If people don't bother to see past the face, they're not worth the breath that was wasted on them."

The blush in her cheeks intensifies ever so slightly, and an embarrassed smile curves her lips. "Thanks."

He squeezes her hand. "Don't mention it. Actually, I, uh, I picked that up from you."

"Then I should start taking my own advice, shouldn't I?" she asks. He laughs.

"Anyway, to the subject I wanted to discuss before," Fiyero picks up, "I really think we shouldn't stay in the same place for much longer. Just in case, you know, to be harder to pinpoint in case they've picked up our trail. I'm pretty sure I remember a relatively nice-looking spot a ways off to the west – trees, some sun, birds, more trees, cute little animals, flowers, and did I mention lots and lots of trees?" She laughs. "Anyway, I wanted you to check it out first to make sure it's secluded enough. Last thing we need's for someone to stumble in on us."

"Lead the way." she says, gesturing for him to take the go ahead. He smiles and tugs on her hand.

"You coming, Elphaba,or what?"