A/N: Here comes another chapter…review, people, review! I'm not doing this for my own health…well, actually, I kind of am, because if I don't it builds up in my head screaming, 'Write me! Write me!' like some kind of literary Alice in Wonderland bottle…
Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish I owned Wicked. But I don't.
They ran downstairs, unseen by any guards, although it was a miracle they weren't heard, what with Shell and Elphaba berating each other mercilessly the entire way. Liir was beginning to get a headache from the bickering when, several floors and winding hallways later, Shell paused in front of a cell door.
"Is this the place, or is it one of your 'mercy missions'?" demanded Elphaba. Shell glared at her. Liir, thinking about it, wanted to vomit, but he didn't want Elphaba yelling at him. Although hearing her yell at someone else was quite entertaining, and he was quite sure her tirades against Shell had none of the good-natured-ness Liir suspected lurked beneath the surface when she was quirking her eyebrows into that funny look and making sharp remarks at him- although sometimes, to be sure, she got into genuine all-out rages, and then look out. Liir thought of Lady Glinda, and he realized he actually quite preferred Elphaba's stinging commentary and slanted looks to a smothering froth of motherly fluff. Still, he daydreamed, it would be nice if she would show a little affection, just every once in a while…
"Ow!" Liir cried, pain stinging his arm where Elphaba had pinched it.
"Stop daydreaming about Dorothy and focus, this is important!" she said. Liir didn't bother to correct her. After all, if that golden Carp had been correct, it was indeed important…Shell pulled the door open, and Liir heard Elphaba's sharp intake of breath.
Her eyes skimmed over a Wolf, chained in one corner, whose eyes raised lazily to look at them before he turned away, and she searched until she found, nearly obscured by shadows, a dark man crouched in a corner, turned in towards the wall. Where the strip of sunlight from the high slit of a window hit his face, Elphaba could see what she already knew: It was Fiyero. But there was someone else she recognized in his face now; could it really be Liir? Elphaba pushed the possibilities from her mind ran towards him.
"Fiyero!" she cried, joy somewhat smoothing her sharp features and radiating from her face. Fiyero looked up, eyes bright with tears meeting hers, and he blinked in disbelief at her, as though she were a ghost. Slowly, he rose to his feet, still staring at her.
"Well," he said finally, "you were sure as hell right, Fae."
"About what?" she asked, twining her skeletal green fingers through his, blinking rapidly and turning her eyes skyward so as to keep herself from the physical pain of crying.
"I should have taken the benighted cold bath," said Fiyero, and they laughed.
They were running back up the stairs, and Fiyero was badgering Elphaba.
Not a smart move, thought Liir.
"And Nor?" Fiyero asked. Elphaba hadn't yet told him what had become of his family. She had dodged the other inquiries carefully, not wanting to bring it all out here. So many tragedies, her fault.
"We're looking for her," Elphaba said. "Here."
Fiyero lowered his voice. "And this boy, is he ours?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know if he's mine, or-"
"I mean I don't know if he's mine."
"Well, there's an easy answer for that one- did or didn't he COME OUT?"
"I don't know."
"Why don't you know anything?"
"Why are you such a jackass?"
Fiyero grinned. "Prison food," he replied.
"Jackasses give me dyspepsia," said Elphie. "And headaches."
"Everyone gives you a headache," put in Shell.
"Shut up."
"He's right, you know," added Fiyero.
"That's because you're jackasses, the both of you."
"Why do I love you?" Fiyero pondered.
"My tact and charming personality."
Fiyero snorted. Shell out-and-out laughed. Elphaba aimed a kick at each, but half-heartedly. And, Liir noted wonderingly, she was half-laughing herself.
What did love do to people?