Title: The Grand Vizier of Oz
Author: Sedri
Rating: PG-13 / T
Summary: "Please come back - you're my daughter, I'd do anything -!" She stopped, hand half-raised and ready to cast a spell. "Anything?" AU, Fiyero/Elphaba. Complete.

Disclaimer: Neither Wicked nor the world of Oz are mine in any way.

Author's Notes: In this chapter I've given Glinda a record player. Kaylle and I have had extensive discussions about the level of technology Oz has (microphones, cameras and trains, apparently, but no cars or telephones), and I still really have no idea. Assuming that because Oz has magic it wouldn't develop at the same pace as our world, I'm going with a mesh of times somewhere between the 1890s and 1940s.

Chapter Eight
A Long-Awaited Date

Year 21
Spring

In all his life, Fiyero Tiggular had never worked so hard for a date.

First there had been the waiting – months of it, keeping well away from both his girls while Glinda's wounded feelings healed. He'd spent most of that time dawdling with school work, improving his marks due to sheer boredom, and hanging around with his drinking buddies – whose company, he'd been startled to learn, was nowhere near as interesting as when he too had been dancing carelessly through life.

Then, after their friendship renewed, there was the caution; on the surface things seemed normal, but there was an undercurrent of hesitance which soured too many conversations – all three of them were so worried about upsetting the delicate balance that they avoided anything that had the slightest chance of hurting someone. Gone were the times when he could playfully muss Glinda's hair or poke Elphaba's ticklish rib – she in particular was always edgy, glancing at Glinda as though the other girl might suddenly shatter into tears, and looking at Fiyero himself like he was some wild animal, alien and unpredictable, wearing carefully blank expressions reminiscent of the days when she didn't trust anyone.

And now, after Glinda had thrown a fit, announced that this could not go on and arbitrarily set up their first date as a birthday present, Elphaba was flatly refusing to leave her room.

With a sigh, Fiyero leaned against the wall outside their dormitory and shrugged charmingly at some girl he didn't know as she poked her head into the hallway to see what was causing all the fuss. She blinked once at Fiyero, then smiled knowingly and disappeared back into her room with a giggle.

Tapping his fingers on his arm, Fiyero listened with amusement to the loud, albeit muffled words flying around inside – along with a shoe, apparently, as something hard smacked into the wall behind his head, making him jump. Glinda's voice was unnaturally perky, and as she opened the door, it sounded like Elphaba was calling her on it.

"I've told you, I'm fine," Glinda's voice insisted. "Really, I'm over it. I am. I couldn't be happier for you."

Only a brief flash of white arms was visible to him as Glinda literally shoved her friend out, darting back in to close the door as fast as humanly possible. Elphaba tried, of course, but Glinda was quicker, and in moments the lock had clicked and something heavy – probably a chair – was shoved up against the back of it. "Have fun!"

Elphaba kicked the door. "Glinda, this is ridiculous! Let me in!"

"No!" she chirped. "Not until at least ten o'clock!" She laughed, and then her record player began churning out a popular love song at a ridiculously high volume. Elphaba stamped her foot, and looked, for a moment, exactly like Fiyero's baby sister, pouting because she didn't get her way. He chuckled.

Elphaba swung round and fixed narrow eyes on him. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," he replied, grinning. And, knowing she probably wouldn't appreciate being compared to a six-year-old, he smoothly changed the subject: "Did she try giving you a makeover again?"

"No," said Elphaba, letting out a deep breath and allowing her shoulders to slump. "No, I

got away with threatening not to wear the dress – ever. She still did something to my hair, though. Lots of spray. I've been coughing all afternoon."

Fiyero tilted his head a little, deciding it wasn't that bad – a few more waves than was natural, but nothing absurd. Glinda seemed to have finally learned restraint; even the dark green dress, bought in the City, was plain enough to suit Elphaba's taste, and really, overall...

"You look nice."

She blinked. "Er... thanks." Tugging self-consciously at the fabric, she quickly added, "You don't have to say that, you know."

Fiyero raised his eyebrows, but shrugged. "If you want," he said, pushing himself off the wall. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, fiddling with a shoulder bag that she clearly hated as they headed towards the stairs – the east stairs, she insisted, even though it was the longer route. "Glinda will be watching out the window," she explained, looking irritable. "I'm absolutely sure of it."

He chuckled. "I'm not surprised."

They went down two flights, and he opened the small, frosted glass door for her before stepping out into the cool air of dusk. It was a fairly pretty evening. The sky was slowly turning purple and the clouds that floated around, leftovers of the morning rain, were edged in bright pink and gold. Breathing in the moist air, Elphaba seemed to relax a bit, and smiled ruefully at him as they made their way down the university's normally picturesque, now puddle-infested path between two rows of huge, stately oak trees. "I am sorry about all this," she said after a moment. "Glinda's... stubborn."

"She means well," Fiyero replied, shrugging as he walked beside her. "She wants everyone to be happy. I don't mind."

"Mmm. I guess. I just don't want her to hurt herself." With a deep breath, she changed the subject. "So now what do we do?"

"Well, I thought we could go to The Wide Water. You like lakefood, don't you?"

She shook her head. "Not what we're going to tell Glinda. I meant what we're actually going to do."

"Er... go on a date?"

Suddenly she made a disgusted sound and whirled around, snapping, "Will you stop that?"

Fiyero blinked, faltering in his step. "What?"

"Why are you playing along with this?" she demanded, looking more upset than angry. "If you keep encouraging Glinda's crazy ideas she's never going to get over the fact that you two broke up – and she'll never leave me alone, either. If we come back tonight and tell her it didn't work, she might actually start to face facts. I thought that was the plan."

He stared at her. "You thought what?"

Elphaba raised her chin to glare at him, then stopped dead at the look on his face. Fiyero had no mirror, but he was feeling confused, surprised, and hurt, and it probably showed. In half a second, her own expression flashed from irritation to shock, hope, joy, and utter humiliation. Cheeks blushing purple, she sharply turned away.

Fiyero broke the silence. "You thought," he began slowly, "that Glinda deluded herself into this just because we broke up?"

She wouldn't look at him, gripping the handbag as she bit her dark lip. "...Yes?"

Groaning, Fiyero turned away, and walked a few steps across the stone path as he ran a hand through his hair. "Elphaba, that was months ago."

"It hurt her," defended Elphaba, arms folded. "Badly. You weren't there to see her cry."

"No, I was there when it happened. She figured me out before I'd even said a word, and she was the one who decided to step aside. I know it hurt her – I hate myself for it. Do you really think I'd make it worse by lying?"

She clenched her jaw, but when she spoke, it was quiet. "No. But it was the only thing that made sense."

He shook his head, feeling more and more hurt creep up through his chest. "Glinda's stronger than you give her credit for. Did it never occur to you that maybe she was right about me?"

Elphaba hesitated. "Once. The first time she told me."

"And you decided she was making it up."

"I... didn't think she was lying," replied Elphaba carefully, glancing up from the ground to meet his eyes for half a second. "I just don't see how she could be right."

He shook his head, staring at her, then turned on his heel and continued down the path. "Come on. The Wide Water tends to fill up after sunset and I want to get a good table."

His abruptness must have startled her; it took a moment before her boots started thumping on the stone, and then she was beside him, matching his stride as they walked towards the north gate. He kept his gaze straight ahead, but through the corner of his eye he saw her peering at him, brow furrowed, and after a minute she said, "You're angry with me?"

"I'm... annoyed. How could you think something like that?"

"It made sense," said Elphaba, and her voice was strained with some feeling he couldn't identify. "Why would anyone want to date me, Fiyero? Look at me."

"I am," he said, a little gentler. "And I don't care what colour your skin is. I'm not that shallow. You, of all people, should know me better than that."

Her eyes widened, and they walked in silence for a while as she processed this. For Fiyero, it wasn't that complicated; he'd gotten over her most noticeable quirk a long time ago, and was quite proud of himself for it. It was impossible to forget, of course, but green was... kind of sexy, actually. Exotic. Exciting. Extremely weird, yes, but this was Elphaba – everything about her was strange, and for some reason he found that incredibly attractive.

So the fact that she'd just denounced all his hard work as a farce was honestly insulting. Of course he was serious. How could she doubt that?

(It would be quite a while before Fiyero would realise that he'd simply assumed she would want to date him. By then, however, it was the middle of their third successful date and the question was pretty much rhetorical, but it embarrassed him – not an easy feat – to realise just how arrogant he actually was.)

As they passed through the wide, wrought-iron gate on the edge of Shiz campus, Elphaba, whose mind had been travelling a very different path, said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

He let out a long breath, feeling marginally better. "It's all right," he said, and put on a fairly genuine smile. "Let's just... forget it, all right? This is our first date, and your birthday. We're supposed to have fun."

A warm, shy smile spread across her cheeks. "Thank you."

He shrugged and then grinned, slinging one arm over her shoulders as they walked into Shiz town. She tensed a bit, apparently embarrassed and quickly glancing at the other people scattered around the street, but did not dislodge him. She might even have moved a little closer.

"Fiyero?" she asked softly, after a moment. "What do people do on dates?"

He blinked. "Er... just spend time together, I guess. Having dinner's pretty standard, if you're interested."

"You sound like you had to think about that," she observed.

"I did. I've never had to put it in words before."

Elphaba chuckled. "And I do like lakefood, by the way. I didn't know any place in town served it."

"Not on the student side," he replied, lightly pressing her shoulder to guide her left through an intersection. "Too lowbrow. It's out west, by the lake."

"Appropriate," said Elphaba. "...A little macabre, but appropriate."

Fiyero laughed.

They were in the fancier part of town now, passing fewer students and more of the small town's upper class people, rich enough to dress well but not important enough to be snobbish. It was a very clean place, largely made up of smooth white stone that seemed to glow a little in the evening light, with wide, shallow streets free of any debris or horse refuse. The Wide Water dominated one side road, fronted by large panels of blue glass and soft white lights. The steps up to the door were elegant grey tiles that twisted artfully between shrubberies, and the whole place screamed of money.

Elphaba looked slightly intimidated. But, being who she was, she lifted her chin, tossed her hair back over both shoulders, and said, "Well, let's go."

"Ladies first."

The restaurant's interior was even more thematic; shimmery blue cloths draped the walls between large, lit-up aquariums that held scores of colourful fish. Most of the lights were soft greens, reflecting on the cloth which rippled in a breeze that drifted in from huge windows on the other side of the room, the ones that opened onto Shiz town's tiny little lake. At this time of year it was a bit too cold to let in so much air, and Fiyero could see the irritated looks on some diners' faces – he had little doubt that before it was completely dark, those windows would be closed and the patrons would content themselves with looking at the water through the great glass wall.

While Elphaba paused for her customary stare-down of everyone who gaped at her, Fiyero sauntered up to the hostess, a blonde woman in vivid red who tended to flirt with all her wealthy guests. "Evening, Tanara," he said in a friendly voice, "I hope you have a good table for me. It's a special occasion."

"Oh?" she asked, eyes flickering to the green lamps which shone on Elphaba. "And what might that be, Your Highness?"

"No titles," he reminded her, reaching a hand backwards towards his date. She walked up without taking it. "Today is Elphaba's birthday."

Tanara's eyes widened, as expected, when the green woman stepped into the normal lighting of the reception booth, and then her brow furrowed. "Elphaba Thropp?" she asked.

That was odd, because she didn't look like a Munchkin, and few Ozians bothered to memorise the names of every member of every noble family, particularly the ones who had never set foot in social circles. Elphaba just nodded. "Do you have a table?"

"Ah – of course. This way, please."

They were led right past the main floor, where polished tables sat close together with four chairs each, and to the far part of the glass wall, which was shielded from general view by smaller tanks and lattice dividers. Elphaba looked embarrassed, particularly when it became clear that all these tables were for two, and avoided the hostess' gaze. Noting this, Fiyero decided not to follow his mother's fierce etiquette instruction and did not hold out her chair.

"Thank you," he said to Tanara.

She smiled. "Your waiter will be here shortly."

Once they were alone, Elphaba began to fidget. It was subtle, nothing he'd normally notice, but she was shifting her shoulders and fingering her hair, uncomfortable. It confused him. "What is it?"

She looked up, a slight purple blush on her cheeks – again. "Now what?"

"Now we talk. Unless you'd rather eat in silence."

That earned him a smile. "No. But... what about?"

He shrugged, leaning back in the smooth wooden chair. "Anything you like. There aren't rules for this sort of thing, you know." He paused. "We could probably invent some, but..."

Elphaba laughed gently, leaning forward on the table. She looked relaxed as she waved a green hand in the air. "I wouldn't know how."

"To make rules?"

"To pick them. You know I've never been on a date before."

Fiyero shrugged. "Every date is different," he said – then paused and amended, "That's not true, sometimes they're all the same. Depends on the people."

"The girl you're with."

"Yeah–" He caught himself in time to keep from listing names; he doubted that Elphaba would want to hear it any more than the others had, even if she was the exception to most rules. Instead, he said, "I don't know what to expect from you."

She looked strangely flattered.

Then suddenly her eyes narrowed, focusing on something behind his back. "The waitress is staring at me."

Fiyero turned around just in time to see a blushing redhead duck into the artfully hidden kitchen door. He winced and said, "Ignore it, Elphaba."

She scowled. "I try."

Fiyero glanced around, trying to think of a distracting topic, and his eyes landed on the nearby fish tank. "Do you think there really is such a thing as a sea?"

Though she knew exactly what he was trying to do, Elphaba didn't object – it was a subject she was interested in. "I don't know. I hope so. The myth had to come from somewhere, after all, and it's not like anyone has ever crossed the deserts." She looked at him. "You?"

"It'd be nice if it was real, but I sort of hope it isn't. I think I'd be scared of it," he replied, and her eyes widened in amused surprise.

"Scared?"

"I'm a rotten swimmer," he confessed. "My father spent a small fortune building and maintaining a swimming lake in our castle and I've refused to even go near it."

She broke out in heavy, deep-throated laughter – her happy laugh, as opposed to the sharp cackle that was slightly hysterical. He liked this laugh. "What a waste," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Not really. Everyone else uses it. My mother and sister race each other every second week, and in midsummer everyone and their servant uses it to cool down. Just not me."

"But why?" she asked, curious. "What are you afraid it?"

"I really don't know," said Fiyero, and he shrugged, enjoying the ease with which he could confide in her. "But if I can't make myself step into a pool where I can see the end and bottom, I don't think I'd be able to go near an ocean."

"That's a shame," she said. "I'd love to swim. Maybe not in an actual sea, but it's something I've always sort of wanted to learn."

"Why haven't you?"

Her mirth cooled a bit. "It 'wouldn't have been fair to Nessa'," she replied.

"Ah."

Elphaba shrugged. "It's not like there are many lakes in Munchkinland anyway, and I would not want to learn somewhere like here," she said, tapping her nail on the glass through which the water was starting to turn black. "No privacy. I don't want to be watched when I make a mistake and drown."

"You should come to our castle someday," said Fiyero lightly, ignoring her pessimism. "The swimming room is enclosed, and too shallow to drown in."

She smiled, but whatever reply she would have made was lost as their waitress, the same red-haired girl who was now trying very hard not to stare, approached with a notebook. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," said Fiyero, who didn't need to look at the wine list. "The sixteen-forty Pertha Vineyards, please – unless you don't like that, Elphaba?"

"It's fine."

"A bottle of that, then," said Fiyero, smiling.

The waitress nodded and scribbled a note, but hesitated, eyes flickering to Elphaba, and there were a few long seconds of silence in which it was awkwardly obvious that she should have already left. Suddenly she burst out, "Did you really meet the Wizard?"

The green girl blinked. "...Er... yes."

"Oh!" squeaked the waitress, covering her mouth and bouncing a little bit. "Oh, I read it in the papers but I just couldn't believe– oh, you're so lucky! What's he like?"

This was, of course, totally inappropriate behaviour for a staff member, and the hostess was watching from afar with a look of horror, but Elphaba, who had been expecting her four-thousand-and-fourth green question, was pleased. "He's nice. A bit eccentric, but he does come from another world, after all. He loves Oz," she added, surprising Fiyero, "and everyone in it. He wants to give us the best lives he can."

Fiyero leaned back in his chair, watching Elphaba closely while the waitress squealed her thanks and apologies and hurried off to tell all her co-workers, whom he was sure were waiting in the kitchen. Elphaba didn't seem bothered by her generous portrayal, and once he had her attention Fiyero asked, "He actually said all that?"

She nodded. "The first time I met him. He also said he thinks of all Ozians as his children," she added with a wry smile. "That one hasn't come up again."

"That's not really what I meant," said Fiyero, leaning on the table. "I'm used to you hating him. Did that Lurlinemas trip change so much? You actually like him now?"

"'Like' is going a bit far," she defended. But then, softening, she explained, "It's hard to keep hating someone who's doing so much for me. And I know he's not a bad person, he just... he seems so naïve, and at the same time he can get people to do almost anything just by showing his face and smiling. It's absurd, but... not worth hate. He means well."

Fiyero hesitated, knowing his question was risky, but asked, "And as your father?"

"Blood means nothing," she replied coolly. "Frex Thropp raised me. I think of him as my father."

Something in her voice made Fiyero pause, and after a moment he smoothly changed the subject.

Dinner passed without incident. Elphaba and Fiyero ordered vastly different meals and within a half hour were cheerfully stealing bits and pieces from each other's plates. It turned out that though Elphaba loved the taste of shellfish, the cracking sound made whenever she cut a piece of the animal's shell was enough to turn her stomach, and so Fiyero, in a fit of gallantry, ordered a different platter entirely. She argued, of course, and then tried to pay for at least her share, but he was having none of it.

"I'm the prince here," he reminded her, "and I'd rather spend this money on you then let it sit in my dorm waiting for another pick-pocket."

"You were robbed?" she asked, startled, and listened intently to his explanation, which became more amusing as it went on (it involved a birthday party, two Munchkins, and a turnip), with the result that she didn't realise he'd signed and paid the bill until they were walking out the blue glass door. She glared. "Cheater."

He laughed, shaking his head as they walked down the steps. Elphaba was acutely aware of his guiding hand resting lightly on the small of her back. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now we decide what we're going to do next time," he replied, and a warm glow spread from the centre of her chest, tingling in the tips of her fingers. Then he grinned and added, "Unless, of course, I'm going to have to drag you out of your room again."

Pretending to scowl, she aimed a light kick at his ankle. He limped in mock-agony for several seconds before Elphaba, grinning, gave his shoulder the smallest possible push and he stumbled, caught off-guard. The startled look on his face was more than worth it, and she burst into fully-fledged laughter.

Fiyero just shook his head, smiling fondly at her as he straightened up. "I've been waiting for this," he said, almost to himself.

She quieted, brow furrowing. "For what?"

"You," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "This day – well, night," he amended, gesturing to the starry sky. "This date."

She felt her cheeks heat up. Waiting?

Flustered, she glanced away, and then the obvious question fell from her lips: "Why?"

"I like spending time with you."

There were a million things that Elphaba wanted to ask – why her? Why now? What was it she did that won his attention? His approval? Why was she interesting? Why didn't he care about the green?

But nothing was said, of course, because she couldn't say it, so she just smiled shyly and hoped he understood.

If putting his arm around her again was an answer, then he did.

They walked back to Shiz quietly, listening to the faint music and drunken laughter of other students enjoying their night out. Elphaba was only half-relaxed, worrying that they'd be seen by some prone-to-teasing classmates, but none came, and by the time they were back on the dark campus it was almost easy to walk so close beside him, feeling warm and tingly and so very happy.

Then they approached the dormitories.

A few lights were on – it wasn't that late yet – screened into little glimmers by the leafy trees above them. Fiyero slowed to a halt before they were properly in sight, calm and at ease, letting her slip out from under his arm.

Elphaba found herself folding her arms, biting her lip, almost defensive in her sudden nervousness. The annoying little handbag slipped from her shoulder, and Fiyero absently pulled the strap back into place.

She didn't thank him, she asked, "Now what?", but for the first time that night, she knew the answer. She had heard enough stories and sneaked enough glances at Glinda and Nessa's silly romance novels to know how the perfect date was supposed to end, and her insides twisted into a knot.

"Now I'm supposed to kiss you," said Fiyero.

So casual. Couldn't he hear her heart pounding? See her shaking? Or was he joking, laughing off something he would never do? She was not normally this insecure, and she scolded herself fiercely, telling herself that whatever he thought, she couldn't change it, and it would be no fault of his if he couldn't make the leap from touching her hands to touching her lips, and...

And he was standing right in front of her, one hand on her cheek, fingertips brushing her ear. He stood still for a moment, just watching her, and the only thought in her mind was, Oh, Oz, he is going to kiss me.

But he didn't, not then. Elphaba was stiff and tense, and maybe that was why he leaned forward only a fraction before pausing and looking her in the eye. "What?"

"I don't know how to do this," she confessed in a blurry rush. "No one's ever told me – I never learned what to... I won't do it right."

Fiyero dropped his gaze, and it looked like he was fighting some very inappropriate laughter. "You know, Elphaba," he said in a steady voice, "it's really not possible to get a kiss wrong."

She wasn't sure she believed him, and it must have showed, because then he did laugh, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I promise," he said. "Just... close your eyes."

It was hard not to peek. In the darkness, Elphaba could feel his breath, and sense the mass of his body so very close beside her. It was tense and terrifying and–

And then it was wonderful.

Room twenty-two was dark and quiet when Elphaba opened the door. Glinda was curled up on her bed, reading their sorcery text by candlelight, and glanced up with a smile as her friend came in. She took one look at Elphaba, who was leaning quietly against the door with a small smile on her face, and said, "You kissed him."

She looked up. "No," she replied, then hesitated. "...He kissed me."

Glinda waved it off with a smile. "Details. So you had fun?"

Elphaba nodded carefully. "Thanks, Glinda. For everything."

She shrugged. "Happy birthday, Elphie."

A few minutes later, Elphaba had quietly finished getting ready for bed. She said goodnight to Glinda, who had already curled up, but didn't really hear the reply; she was wrapped up in memories – her own, wonderful memories, so new and fresh and warm that she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

She never noticed the bin full of slightly damp tissues.