AN: I'm starting to wish I'd rated this M. Tell me if I should change it or anything. Sorry for Elphaba being a bit vulgar, but I always though she would be.

When the knock on the door came at last, she groaned in anticipation (but only quietly to herself, for he could not know the way she wanted him) and called, "Come in," from the bed. She watched him as he entered, smiling with what she could only hope was similar eagerness, and eyed him closely, unashamed, as he undressed. He was already excited enough to begin the night's adventure, she observed. A thin smile crept over her lips and she dropped the book she'd been reading.

A love affair. What a name for something so simple, she thought. A man wants a woman, not his wife, and she wants him. It's that simple. But was it?

Why, exactly, was she lying there, ready and willing to let this man make love to her in whatever ways he wished? He could take her so easily, without a question asked, without a word spoken, and she was allowing it. What kind of woman did this make her? And what kind of man did it make him?

Well, he was certainly one wonderful man, she let herself think as he got closer. His words seemed to caress her ears. "What have you been reading, Elphie?"

"I'm forgetting already," she murmured, making room for him beneath the withered blanket. "Why don't you come here and, uh, make it even harder to remember?" Smiling sweetly, she patted the sheets next to her as he finished removing his trousers. Within the blink of an eye, he was beside her, rubbing her body with his hands. Half in a daze, half watching his hands in case they should stray too far down, she moaned and grabbed Fiyero. "Fiyero…"

"What?" He asked, not really asking. She doubted he was listening to anything she had to say after the moment she'd touched him. If she told him to stop, there was little chance he'd obey. It was a good thing that was exactly the opposite of what she wanted.

"Do it to me already," she said crassly. This wasn't making love, she decided. It was sex. Making love was a different verb. Making love was for people who loved each other. She didn't love him, for she couldn't. And she was sure she was nothing more to him than good sex.

He almost winced at her blunt words, but he pushed her legs apart and climbed over her. Pushing her hair away from her face and squinting to see her expression in the darkness, he mumbled fondly, "Elphie."

She couldn't look in his eyes when they had sex. She was afraid of what she'd see. However, she wasn't sure if she feared she would see no love, or too much. Closing her eyes, she whimpered, "Like that."

"Why won't you look at me?" Fiyero saw through her games. He wanted to know too much. There was so much he could never know and it hurt her not to tell.

Tossing her head back, she whispered, "Because I close my eyes when things feel good, is that so wrong?"

With a grunt, he grasped Elphaba's waist, holding their bodies together. "It's fine," he sighed.

It was obvious to her that this was not fine. Resentfully, she opened her eyes and looked at him a moment. Their eyes did not meet, but she looked at his mouth, his lips, the way he gasped a little as he thrust himself. "Fiyero? Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know." Sure, he was getting pleasure, but he was not happy. She wanted him to be happy, so she met his eyes. By this time, he'd lost focus. Now there was no point in doing as he wished at all, she realized. "Fiyero," she encouraged, afraid she'd lost him. What was he seeing behind those eyes? Was he seeing her, or someone else? For a moment, when everything rushed through her, she was almost certain she did not care. "Yero!"

His eyes had regained focus and he was smirking. He found it almost humorous that she was now trembling and weak beneath him, did he? She was too frail in that moment to look away from him, and he said, "I didn't see your eyes close just then."

"I lied," she admitted, wheezing. Looking up at him, still moving, she could only gaze at the diamonds and wonder at them.

He shuddered and thrust once more, groaning. When all was said and done, he collapsed beside her, a foolishly male grin on his face.

He was going to sleep here, as he had before, she realized. Was it because he wanted to wake her up in the middle of the night to do this all again or was it because the silly oaf actually wanted to lie beside her for longer than the time they'd had sex? It was a question she longed to voice but knew well enough that it wasn't needed. The answer shouldn't and couldn't matter.

It was late, perhaps midnight, when he woke her. Recognizing the look in his eyes, she sighed and let him kiss her mouth. Strange to kiss when she was sure he wanted only sex. But, after all, what did she know?

He surprised her. When he parted her legs, he did not immediately climb on top of her as she had expected. Instead, he began kissing his way down her body, leaving her helpless to protest, because she had, after all, said no hands below the waist. Startled, she whispered in the darkness, "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing, Elphie?" He laughed lightly.

"Fae," she corrected, forgetting herself for a moment. Gasping, she brought a hand to her mouth and looked away for a moment.

"What?"

Well, secrets would get out. "It's… my code name." She admitted. "It's not necessarily my code name in all of my cause, but, in general, in the cell…" There was too much to explain, and she wanted him to continue his oral journey, not for her to continue hers.

He knew better than to ask questions now, apparently. His only words were, "Fae? Really?"

"Yeah, Fae." She shrugged, gesturing for him to continue.

"I like that. Would you mind terribly if I called you that?"

"Of course not." It hit her then that perhaps that was what she had wanted, but she was never sure of her own wants and needs as much as others', including his.

He moved back on the bed and started kissing her again, causing a low moan in her throat, so low she wasn't sure if he'd heard it. "Like that?" He licked his lips and looked at her.

She nodded hurriedly. "Whatever you're doing… is fine…" Her voice was hoarse and she found her words were not quite clear. After repeating herself once, she slid a hand down onto the back of Fiyero's head and stroked his hair. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" He asked, coming up for air, confused.

She gestured down her body, "This."

"Why not?"

Why not? This hadn't been about her pleasure to him, at least it'd seemed that way. It was his pleasure. She was supposed to just lie back, spread her legs and hope for a little good feeling (she hated to admit he gave her more than she'd hoped for). But now here they were, her lying similarly on her back, but he was not crushing her to the bed. Here he was, when he could have just as easily mounted her, pleasuring her instead. There was no way in Oz she'd ever fathom the things that must go on in such a man's mind. "All right," she agreed tentatively.

After a time, when Elphaba felt he must know that she was close to the edge, he stopped, wiped his mouth and looked her in the eyes, "Do you love me, Fae?"

She swallowed hard and blinked. In his eyes she determined he would finish the work he'd begun if he heard the answer he wanted to hear. "Yes."

Minutes later, she was gulping for air and murmuring, "I love you, I love you." She regained her composure quickly, but was unable to stop the dreaded words from escaping through her lips. At last, she allowed herself to repeat them, beginning to believe that they could be true. She began to believe that she could even, somehow, make them stay true.

It was only in the early morning, as he wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his diamond laden chest, that she realized he had not once said the words in return.