AN: If anyone remembers the book, in "City of Emeralds", Fiyero doesn't tell her he loves her until the last night they're together. There was a reason for all of that, just to let you know. Sorry if Fiyero seemed out of character the way I wrote it. It was hard. I always thought he'd say it first, but the book says otherwise, guys.
She woke to eyes staring at her without blanket. Quickly, she pulled the blanket around her, smiled and whispered, "I love you."
He grinned and leaned over to kiss her. When she shifted uncomfortably, he moved away, "What's wrong?"
She did not answer, but readily kissed him back. There would always be the temptation to ask if he loved her back, but there would be no asking. She couldn't, and not only because she shouldn't. She feared a broken heart. "Yero my hero," she murmured, "don't you have places to be?"
"Maybe," he teased. "Why does it matter to you, Fae-Fae?"
So now he'd adapted her code name into his own playful nickname. This made her flush and she looked up towards the skylight. After a small examination of the sun's placement, she decided, "Well, it's only six, after all."
"I have a few hours, then." He said, contented.
To her, this meant he must be suggesting one thing and one thing only. She began to lie back in the bed when his arm caught her and almost crushed her against his chest into a long, loving hug. "You want to do it sitting up like this? I thought you didn't like it that way…"
"Who says I wanted to do anything of the sort, Elphie?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "This isn't just sex."
She bit back the obvious, "it's not?" response and nodded instead. Perhaps his demand of her to voice her long-hidden and forbidden love for him was his way of telling her he felt the same. "What do we do, then?" She asked, after a pause.
"You will do nothing. I'll make us some breakfast, and we can eat in bed. Then we can talk or do whatever we wish."
She said, "all right," before realizing he'd just taken charge. An independent woman would never allow a man to do this, whether or not it involved any love at all. She struggled with herself as he got up, but gave in to a terrifying laziness when he'd ambled wearily towards the counter.
"Where'd you have to go yesterday that I couldn't spend the day with you, Fae-Fae?" He was making a shrill racket near the stove, but she wasn't motivated enough to look up and figure out exactly how.
"Oh, darling dearest, you know I cannot tell you."
"I can always hope you'll spill eventually."
"Or fear it."
"What?"
"I told you how much danger you'd be in if I 'spilled'. You shouldn't hope to know anything that could get you killed, my love."
He shrugged. "Whatever."
Sitting up, she said harshly, "It is not 'whatever', Fiyero. Don't you understand the danger you're in, even now?"
"I'm here anyway, aren't I?"
"And I can't imagine why."
Rolling his eyes, he said, "You know why."
Because you love me? She longed to ask. Blinking sunlight out of her eyes, she erased the thought from her mind, as well. "I guess I do," she lied – or hoped? Who could be sure of which? She would possibly never know if his intentions were love, sex or somewhere in between.
A small shudder brought him to her side immediately. "You cold? You need more blankets. Next time I'm at the market, I'll try to remember to buy you another."
"You don't have to," she said, shaking her head.
"Well, I will, for your sake and for mine. It seems like I'll be sleeping beneath your blankets for a while, doesn't it?" He winked at her playfully.
"Not every night, my darling," she reminded him.
"Why not, Fae-Fae?"
"Because you and I have lives to live."
"True," he acknowledged. "But not at nighttime."
"I do." She disagreed, motioning for the cat, who was hovering near her with some sort of suspicion.
"Really?"
"Yes, really." If it were only possible, she'd spend every night for the rest of her life beside him. But she had tasks and missions to perform and complete, and he would, sooner or later, go back to his wife.
"But not too often, right?"
"Well, this is a busy season. For several days at a time coming up I will be busy, my hero. But, depending on how long you stay, I will have more time for you come the spring." She could only hope.
"If I can control it, I'll stay forever – if you'd let me."
His comment made her grateful, but she did not tell him so. "I'd let you, if you really wanted."
"I do want to."
"You'll change your mind in time."
"What makes you think so?"
"In time, given the time, I'll be old, wrinkled and gray," she warned him.
"And I'll still want you."
Want? What about love? "You think so now," she dismissed.
Carefully, he loaded some fruit and old bread onto a tray and walked it to the bedside table. He placed the tray on the table and said, "Eat up."
"Thank you." She let him get back into the bed before either of them began to eat greedily.
"I will be here when the future comes, Fae." He repeated.
Smiling inwardly, she said, "If you insist."
"I insist, then."
"Well, my darling, think whatever you will. I won't have the last laugh, I suppose, and neither will you."
"What do you mean?"
"I won't be happy proven right, will I?" She begrudged him this small admission of her feelings. "So I guess I won't laugh, even if I'm right."
They'd gobbled down their food, and Elphaba was amazed at the appetite a good lovemaking could work up. Good… she laughed to herself. Fiyero looked up from his food and mumbled, "Do I look funny? Is there something in my teeth?"
"No, my love." She dismissed his prodding and finished her food. "What shall we do now?"
"I can think of several things… well, one thing and several different ways."
"Fiyero! I thought you said…"
"I did. I was kidding. Unless you want to, of course…"
"I do," she said, cutting him off. "If you're up to it," she teased.
"I'm up to it, believe me!" He lifted the blanket and pretended to look beneath it.
"Stop that!" She laughed, "I told you you're not allowed to see me."
"Fae?" He asked, after she'd calmed.
"What?"
"Do you like what we do?"
"Would I do it if I didn't?"
"I guess not. At least you wouldn't. Is it… good for you?"
"Fiyero, what are you trying to ask?"
"You know."
"I don't. Now come here and make love to me or continue your questions and you won't get any for the rest of the day. Your choice."
And he chose.