There's an f-bomb in here. I wasn't planning on it, but it kind of happened. Sorry. Anways, I don't own Wicked, blah blah, you guys are great.

Boq lay awake, unable to sleep. Perhaps it was because there were wolves, or perhaps Wolves, baying in the distance. But more likely, it was that he couldn't believe the events of the day that had occured.

After an entire calendar year of just 'hellos' and 'how are yous' that meant nothing, he and Nessa had spent an entire day together. He had invited her into his house for the entire weekend of Festivation, a celebration dedicated to the love of family.

But the thing that bothered him the most was that he couldn't think of anything but Nessa. And it wasn't even the thoughts of her he tried to push out to think of Galinda. No. It was that, no matter how much he told himself that he didn't, he wanted to think about Nessa.

"Boq?" Jolla called up the stairs the next morning. He blinked a couple of times.

His small bedroom was full of dim grey light coming through the curtains. He pulled them open, stretching. As was tradition, the storm that always came around the time of Festivation had changed from rain to sleet, and would soon become snow.

"Good morning, dear," Jolla greeted, kissing Boq on the cheek as he began cracking eggs for breakfast."When you get the eggs done will you please go wake up Nessarose?"

"Can't you?" he asked tensely. Jolla's brow furrowed.

"No. You should. She is your guest," Jolla said, flipping a pancake with the spatula.

"She's a guest of the family. Not mine specifically."

Jolla stepped back, her hand on her hip.

"What's gotten into you? Yesterday you were having such a nice time with her. Don't you like her?"

"She is my friend. Just my friend."

"Well, go wake your friend up."

Boq sighed and walked to the den. He knocked gently.

"Nessa," Boq said softly. "Nessa, it's time to get up."

"Boq?"

Boq turned to see Nessa coming around the corner from the bathroom.

"Oh. You're up. well, breakfast is in a couple of minutes, so whenever you're ready," Boq said, his eyes on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Nessa asked.

"Yeah, I'm just...it's a bit early."

Before Nessa could say anything, Boq turned and went back into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, the girls, Jolla, Boq,and Nessa were seated around the kitchen table enjoying pancakes and eggs.

"What are we doing today?" Era asked as she pushed a piece of pancake around her plate.

"Well, we're having twenty four people over tomorrow, so we're going to be cooking," Jolla replied.

"Wow," Nessa murmured, sipping her coffee.

"What was that dear?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just in awe I guess. I can't imagine having twenty four family members."

"Well, they aren't all family. Some close family friends are coming in from out of town," Jolla said as she stood up and began clearing plates.

"Yay!" the girls exclaimed in unison.

"Well, at least someone is excited," Jolla smirked. "Nessarose, dear, are you finished with your plate?"

Nessa nodded and handed it over.

"What can I do to help cook?"

"Dear, you don't have to-"

"No please. I really want to help."

"Alright. The main dish is the traditional Festivation stew. I'll have you cut the vegetables."

"Sounds good," Nessa smiled.

Jolla pulled a bowl of raw vegetables from the ice box. She hesitated for a moment, judging the height of the counter against the table.

"The table is fine," Nessa announced, smiling insincerely.

Jolla nodded and set down the vegetables in front of Nessa. Boq handed her a cutting board and knife. Only Boq heard Nessa sigh.

"Hey Ma, can you help me... with the thing? Out here?" Boq whispered to Jolla. When she didn't respond, he grabbed her gently by the hand and pulled her into the den.

"What's are you-"

"You invited the Langdons? How could you invite the Langdons?" Boq said in a low voice.

"Boq, relax. Kiaan is away at school in the Vinkus. Her mother assured me that she will not be attending. And besides, it's been a year and a half! I'm sure everything is long forgotten," Jolla waved her hand.

"Ma, people never forget about broken engagements."

"Boq Auslo Fitzgerald. For the last time, it was not an engagement. It was a commitment agreed to by both parties-"

"A commitment to marry, Ma. And I called it off. I wouldn't be surprised if Kiaan comes back just to kill me," Boq insisted.

"I'm not telling them not to come. You'll just have to face them," Jolla said, throwing up her hands. She reached for the doorknob.

Jolla stormed back into the kitchen, alarming Ava and Era, whom Nessa was showing how to slice vegetables with the "big girl" knife.

"Is there a problem?" Nessa's brow furrowed.

"No, no. How are the vegetables coming?"

"Look at our slices Ma!" Era said excitedly. She pointed out a couple of misshapen slices of peppers.

"Very nice," Jolla smiled. "Are you alright, Nessarose?"

"Uh, yes. I, uh, am," Nessa felt her face grow hot. She tried to smile, but it didn't feel right.

"Ma. Stop," Boq muttered.

Nessa redoubled her grip on the knife. Ava and Era exchanged glances.

"Ma, we're going to go make the beds upstairs," Era said. She and Ava dropped their knives and ran off.

"I'm sorry Nessarose," Jolla said, sitting in her daughter's vacated seat. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," Nessa said tersely. She sat down her knife and took a deep breath. "Please don't feel like you have to be extra careful around me."

"I'm sorry," Jolla apologized.

Nessa smiled briefly and resumed her chopping of vegetables.

"So, what is your family doing this weekend? If you don't mind me asking," Jolla added quickly.

"Well, my sister is with the Vinkun monarchy for a couple of days. Her boyfriend is the prince of the Vinkus," Nessa said in a falsely cheery tone. "I was going to spend the weekend at home at Colwen Grounds with my father. But he was called off to some secluded village in Quadling Country to deal with something or other. I was going to stay at Shiz, but then Boq invited me back."

Jolla nodded.

"I never thought to ask, but what is your mother doing for the holiday?" Boq asked, turning a chair around so it faced backwards, and sat down. This was the most he had ever learned about Nessa.

"My mother is no longer with us. She died almost... well, a long time ago."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," Boq said.

"Well, as I said, we are very happy that you're with us," Jolla patted Nessa's arm and stood up. Shouts had erupted upstairs, so she followed the noise as she left.

"I am sorry," Boq said, scooting closer to her. "I didn't know. Really."

"I forgot that you didn't know," Nessa raised her eyebrows, moving around some sliced vegetables with the knife so she could dice them.

"Well, we have something in common," Boq sighed. "Your mother passed away, and my father passed away."

Nessa set down her knife.

"Really?"

"Yeah. About four years ago or so. He joined up to fight for Munchkinland in the civil war. He was killed in a small skirmish up near Appleton. That's why we moved from the farm to this house. He dabbled in architecture as a hobby. This, " he motioned to the house. "Was his masterpiece."

"I'm so sorry," Nessa took his hand and squeezed slightly. "What do you miss most about him?"

"He tinkered a lot. Sometimes I find little bits of metal or screws, and think 'I should take this to him'," Boq said. "I've even tried to do it myself. But it never turns out the same. What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"What do you miss about your mother?"

"I didn't know her. She died when I was a day old," Nessa looked at him. "Please don't make that face."

"Wh-what face?" Boq said, quickly trying to cover up his face by putting his chin in his hand. Nessa chuckled slightly.

"The face everyone gives me when I say that. Hence why I don't tell people."

"I didn't mean to make the face."

"No one means to make the face. Just as no one means to make the face when I say that the reason that she died is the same reason that I'm in this chair," Nessa said. She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oz dammit. I didn't mean to say that." Her eyes grew wider. "I didn't mean to say that either."

"Well, uh," Boq froze."Oh, I don't know what to say. Other than... uh... fuck."

They stared at each other for a moment, before erupting into laughter.

"Did you really say that?" Nessa wheezed.

"I didn't know what else to say!" Boq coughed, which only made his laughter grow stronger.

They continued to laugh for a five minutes.

"What's so funny?" Era asked as she skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

"Just something Boq said," Nessa wiped her eyes, still chuckling. "I, uh, I was telling him something and I messed up the words."

"What were you telling him?" Ava asked, jumping up into the seat next to Nessa.

"Uh, I was telling him about my... shoes," Nessa said slowly.

"Nessa, we can talk later," Boq muttered, squeezing her hand. Nessa nodded slightly. It was then that Boq realized Nessa's hand was warm and soft, so he let go.

"Well, I have a pair of shoes that are very special," Nessa said, turning to the girls.

"Why are they special?" Ava asked.

"They are covered in beads, so they sparkle."

"Do they do anything else?" Era asked.

" Um, no. They are just sparkly," Nessa looked concerned.

"Oh," Era's shoulders dropped. "I thought they did something special. Like they were magical or something."

"I'm sorry, Era. They are just... sparkly," Nessa said, her shoulders dropping too.

"That's not true," Boq interjected. "They also, are from a mystical land. Right, Nessa?"

Nessa shook her head. But she could feel him poking her under the table. As she looked up, she could see him nodding to the girls slightly.

"Oh, yes. I forgot. They are from the legendary land of the swamps. The, uh, beads were found by a traveling salesman who lived deep in the swamp. He searched all over. Every time he found one, he took it home and inspected it really closely. Only when he found just the perfect ones did he finally tell the cobbler to make the sparkly shoes."

"Wow," the girls sat wide eyed.

"Era? Ava? Please come in here for a moment," Jolla called from upstairs.

Nessa and Boq smiled at them as they ran off again.

"Good one," Boq smiled, picking up the diced vegetables.

"Thanks for thinking so fast," Nessa said. "What else can I help with?"

"Uh, well," Boq spun around a circle. "We're alone. So you can continue your story. If you want, that is. And you can get the pot out from that cupboard."

"Oh," Nessa turned around and opened the cupboard. "Well, my sister is green, as you well know. My father did not want another green child, so he fed my mother milkflowers. So instead of having green skin, I came early and my legs weren't ready yet and... that's it."

She handed him the pot. He wordlessly took it to the sink and filled it with water before placing it on the stove.

"I didn't know that. Thank you. You know, for telling me," Boq said.

Nessa handed him her knife from the table which he used to sweep the diced vegetables into the pot.

"I, uh, I don't think I knew you could cook," Nessa cleared her throat as she changed the subject.

"Uh, yes. I cook a lot actually. My mother let me help when I was younger, and I just sort of fell in love with it. My best dish is this noodle dish I learned from a salesman who came through Shiz last year. He said the Wizard himself taught him the recipe. I doubt that part is true, but the recipe is fantastic. I'll make it for you sometime," Boq explained happily, pulling a chicken from the icebox.

"I would like that a lot," Nessa smiled.

"I would too," Jolla joked as she and the two girls entered the kitchen. "And maybe that almond dessert you make so well too. That would make for such a lovely date."

"Oh it's not..."

"We don't really feel that..."

Jolla held up a hand, silencing the blushing pair.

"It was just a jest."

Boq and Nessa nodded stiffly, but said nothing else. But no amount of willing could make the flush disappear from their cheeks.

The rest of the day went on without much talking between the pair, though not for lack of trying.

Sensing their nervousness on the subject of romance, she had divided chores between them, which just happened to take place on different sides of the house.

She sent Boq to clear rocks from the dirt path while Nessa continued to prepare food in the kitchen. When Nessa was sent to tend the living room fire, Boq was sent to the attic to make sure enough cots had been set up for the attending children.

For eight hours, this behavior continued, until finally all the food was made and all the beds prepared. Era and Ava, who had been underfoot all day, were somewhere playing in the attic. Jolla had retired early, informing them 'the Wend Hardings Fitzgeralds could be here as early as dawn', meaning she best get to bed early.

"May I join you?" Boq asked as he returned to the living room after a well-deserved shower.

"Mhmmm."

Nessa was curled up on the couch with a blanket, watching the fire crackle in the fireplace. Snow had begun to swirl outside the window. A light dusting already covered the visible trees.

"Did... Are you still wearing your shoes?" Boq asked, slowly lowering himself into the worn armchair adjacent the couch.

"Mhmmm."

"Oh."

"What?" she mumbled.

"I just thought you might have taken them off. To lay on the couch," Boq suggested.

"I prefer to keep my shoes on," she informed.

"Alright. Then by all means. Keep your shoes on."

Boq groaned internally.

It seems your classes on Rhetoric and Public Speech have truly paid off. Well done.

"They are more comfortable than they appear," Nessa muttered, breaking Boq from the criticisms of his inner monologue.

"Come again?"

"My braces. They are more comfortable than they appear."

"I, uh, I- okay. I guess."

"You asked me why I didn't take off my shoes. I can only assume that's why you asked. So that's why I said it. I prefer to keep my shoes on because, despite popular belief, I do actually prefer to wear them," Nessa said, sitting up so that her head rested in her hand. "I find them comfortable. In reality, they probably would bother any other person, but I've worn them for a considerable part of my life, so I enjoy them."

"What do they do?"

"When I was younger, they made sure my legs grew straight. Now they help make sure that my legs remain straight."

"If they are meant to do that, why do your feet still turn in ?" Boq asked.

Nessa flipped herself over so she lay on her stomach. Now her head rested in both hands. Her eyes narrowed at him.

"I said that's what they're supposed to do. I didn't say they did it well."

Boq chuckled slightly, but it quickly turned into a yawn.

"Huh. Who knew moving 439 small rocks off of a dirt path could wear somebody out so much?" he asked, stifling another yawn.

"You counted the number of rocks you moved?" Nessa asked slightly in awe as Boq stood. He groaned as he stretched his shoulders and back.

"Yeah. It's a thing I do sometimes. When I can let my mind."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, it mostly happens at Shiz," he paused. "I can tell you that there are 242 red cobblestones in the main courtyard. There are 53 stone layers that make up the clock tower. And one I just counted a couple of weeks ago at the assembly: there are 825 sequined stripes on Madame Morrible's blue gown."

"How did you possibly pay attention to her long enough to count those?" Nessa implored, stretching slightly before lifting herself into her chair.

"Luckily counting does not necessarily require me to listen to what she says, just look at her," Boq laughed as he thought about it. "Though once I did count the words to her speech. It clocked in at 7,981. And it was a short one."

Nessa sat for a moment, just smiling at him.

"That is impressive. Very impressive," she said, moving forward a couple feet. "Perhaps if there is a lull in conversation or activity tomorrow, I can quiz you. Perhaps find out if you have ever counted anything that has to do with our friends."

"I look forward to it," he said with a slight bow.

She squeezed his hand briefly as she passed him to leave, murmuring a 'fresh dreams' in the process.

Boq stretched once more before resigning himself to an early bedtime.

Counting, counting. What have I counted in regards to our friends, he thought.

He knew there had to be some. They were, of course, the five people he had spent the most time with in the past year and a half.

Oh yes. Of course, he thought as he collapsed onto his bed, fully clothed.

There were 116 rows of stitching on her headband the first time he met her.