Disclaimer: I do not own wicked, but I would sure love to.

A/N: This is a revised edition. I have changed Sarima to Shell.

She's Mine

Frexspar sighed and placed his newspaper on the table near him. The last dregs of a cup of cold tea sat nearby. Bits of white paper were strewn across the now mossy floor.

He stood up, restarted the fire in the fireplace, and then went to go make another cup of tea. After he had done all this, he sat in his armchair by the fire. He took a sip of his tea and shuddered. He'd made it too hot.

He went back to his newspaper. The fire crackled unusually as he did this and he soon became drowsy. As he drifted off to sleep, mouth open and funny snoring noises coming form his nose, a man appeared, emerging from the fire.

He was old, with grey eyes and a tired, wrinkled face. He wore an emerald green and black robe that sparkled when he moved. On his head sat a great monstrosity of a hat that matched his robe.

The man sat on a straight-backed chair near the fire. He waited there, silently, until Frexspar awoke.

When he did awake, it was very amusing. First, he snorted and his head rolled around from side to side, like jello. Then, he jerked awake, eyes wide and face bright red. When he finally saw the old man, his eyes grew even wider and he stuttered, "Mr. Wizard! Um, how lovely to see you here today…As you can see, it's really not a good time!"

The Wizard tapped his fingers together smartly, and said, "Yes. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I must talk to you about your first daughter, what's her name."

"Elphie," Frexspar replied.

"Yes. I presume that's short for Elphaba, after Saint Aelphaba?" the Wizard said.

Frexspar nodded. "Mmm hmm…"

"Tell me," the Wizard said. "Where is your…Elphaba?"

"Currently, she's at Shiz, where I believe she is good friends with Galinda, from Gillikin, and Doctor Dillamond, an Animal. She is under the care of Madame Morrible."

The Wizard coughed then said, "Mr. Frexspar Thropp of Nest Hardings, do you love your daughter?"

Frexspar nodded.

"And do you believe wholeheartedly that she is your daughter?"

Frexspar started to nod, but then thought about it. Was she? Did he actually think that Melena had been truthful to him all his life? And what about Nessarose? And Shell?

"Do you?" the Wizard repeated.

"I don't kn-know," Frexspar stuttered.

"Well, your Nessarose, the one with no arms, is not yours. She is that Quadling's, what was his name? Turtle Heart, that was it."

"What about Shell? And Elphie?" Frexspar asked.

"Shell was yours, but Elphaba – " the Wizard started.

"Yes?"
" – she was not yours. She was – "

"Whose?" Frexspar said.

"Mine."

Frexspar opened his mouth, shocked. "Y-yours? But how? It can't be!"

The Wizard stood up and leaned on his cane, which Frexspar had just noticed.

"I see, that, as a minister, you need to travel a lot in order to bless pots and drown babies, but don't you think Melena got just a little bit lonely?"

Frexspar contemplated this, then said angrily, "Yes, but…How could you! And that Turtle Heart! I knew Quadlings were bad!"

While Frexspar was going on in his rant, the Wizard smiled the type of smile when you do something you weren't supposed to and kind of has a little laugh to it. The he disappeared back into the fire without another word.