Glinda may have been her best friend.

Elphaba could only suspect. She had little experience with these things. They were friendly. They talked frequently, ate with Boq and the rest of those rambunctious boys often, sat together in class occasionally. Glinda sometimes joined her arrogant little pack of girls instead. But this was quite infrequent, and Glinda had already told Elphaba how boring she found them now. Elphaba was rather proud of her.

They also shopped together. The Buttery was a semi-reliable source of nutrients, but there were times when you simply didn't have the energy to go all that way for a cup of tea. They had purchased a little stash of earl grey, infusers, a pair of mugs - matching, not that it mattered - and got hot water and milk from the dormitory common room. It had snowballed from there. Now they had herbal teas - peppermint for the morning, chamomile for the evening, lemon and ginger when they were coming down with something - and an all-important stash of biscuits. They had gotten little bags of nuts and dried fruit for while they studied, exotic crackers from Quadling Country for picnics. Exotic to Glinda, at least. They were home to Elphaba.

They went on their little expedition twice a month. Glinda paid for everything, and so had the liberty to buy all the teas and biscuits and tidbits her heart desired, and only those of the best quality. The benefits of being friends with Glinda Arduenna. This particular morning they were unchaperoned - Nessa was sick, and it was just down the street. It was rather thrilling, though neither of them were likely to exploit it.

"Anything else you'd like, Elphie?" Glinda asked as usual. Elphaba pondered over it as they strolled between the shelves.

"Perhaps an apple to munch on."

"You could be a tad more exciting."

"... A persimmon?" Glinda rolled her eyes.

"Get chocolate or something! You need a bit of padding." Glinda poked her naughtily in the side, made her jump. "Oh! Have you had figs before?"

"I haven't," Elphaba said warily as Glinda found them.

"I do love a good fig." She glanced at the store owner, who was distracted by the paper. They were the only customers. Glinda plucked one from the display and bit the fat end, her eyes falling closed. "To die for. Have one, Elphie."

Elphaba drifted toward her. "You'll get us banned," she said quietly.

"You'll certainly be banned from my company if you don't do as I say." Elphaba did enjoy Glinda so much at times like these. Glinda held up a fig, and Elphaba gave her a look and a smirk, and bit it right from her delicate fingers. Glinda giggled and blushed, covering her mouth quickly. Elphaba blinked at the unexpected texture of the fig, the subtle and clean sweetness of it.

"That was quite good."

"See?" Glinda said proudly, her nose in the air. "You ought to listen to me more often. I have a perfect palate."

She was hilarious. "A perfect palate? My dear, how in Oz do you know?"

"My father said so." Elphaba laughed outright. Glinda poked her again. "Oh, leave me be."

They went and paid for their groceries, including a little paper bag of figs. They stood on the corner of the road, Elphaba about to cross before Glinda stopped her. "Why don't we go on a wander?"

Elphaba glanced to Glinda and then to Crage Hall, full of books, so near by. "Why?"

"For fun, you twig." The air about Glinda changed, and she arched a brow, looked away from Elphaba. "I thought you were a bit more daring than that, but perhaps you've become quite meek? Scared into good behaviour?"

"I'm not scared," Elphaba said defensively before she could even think about what Glinda was clearly trying to do. Glinda gave her a smug smile and she rolled her eyes. "You needn't play me so. Where are we going?"

Glinda grinned. "Come with me." She took her hand.

Glinda had been the first person to ever hold Elphaba's hand. It was almost a year ago now. Glinda had done it as part of a lark; not a prank, but a children's game. She had taken Elphaba's hand in hers and held it palm-side up. She had drawn a cross with her finger, then did the same to her own palm, and sang a rhyme as she did it. "Thick and thin, any weather, crossed palms mean -" she pressed their crossed palms together, fingers locking between Elphaba's, "- friends forever. That's what we did in Frottica." Elphaba, embarrassingly moved, had snatched her hand away.

Glinda called them a carriage. She didn't ask where they were going. She found Glinda's quiet pride very amusing and had no desire to spoil it. They emerged toward the edge of Shiz. "Isn't this a bit far out?"

"We'll be fine."

"I'll be fine. I'm not sure about you."

Glinda glanced at her. "You would not protect me?" She asked it airily, already knowing the answer. Elphaba's hand tightened around hers.

They came to a large building that was half way through some manner of construction. It was currently absent of workmen. They made sure they were unseen and slipped inside. It was a train station in the making, or on the decline. In the centre of the huge hall, the roof swelled up into a wide dome, a tower within the structure chasing its highest point. It still had an old factory sign half up the length of the tower. Glinda meandered beneath it, looking up. "I think this must be a heritage building or something. The factory, I mean. They built this station right around it. Isn't it marvellous?" she asked, her voice bouncing throughout the space.

"It is. Good acoustics."

Glinda turned around, her hair and dress swishing and floating prettily, her eyes alight. "Oh, would you sing, Elphie? Please?" Elphaba was reluctant, and Glinda saw it immediately, stepping close into her space and taking up her hands. Again with the hand holding. "Oh please, please, please sing. Miss Nessarose says your voice is lovely."

"Nessa has not heard very many voices, I'm afraid."

"I believe she is nevertheless correct," Glinda said with a sweet smile. "You have quite a nice voice as is."

Elphaba stiffened somewhat. "You're mistaken, I think."

"Well, not nice persay." She looked off contemplatively. "Rich? It's quite deep, for a girls. And it has this rumble," Glinda said thoughtfully, her hands moving against Elphaba's, sliding and locking their fingers together. "It's a bit. I don't know."

Glinda was doing that thing she did when she wanted to say something but she was worried it was too scandalous. Elphaba tugged her hands playfully, smirked. "A bit what? We don't have all afternoon."

She smiled a smile that made Elphaba's stomach feel funny. "It's a bit seductive."

Their eyes met. A strange thing happened, something Elphaba had never experienced. She felt as if an odd magnetism had developed between them, drawing her in. Glinda's lashes fluttered, and she looked away. She cleared her throat and glanced back at Elphaba, and the magnetism was gone, thank god.

"What is my voice like?" Glinda asked. "Nothing like yours, I know that."

"Your voice." Elphaba's eyes wandered. "Your voice is very you."

"Well, it's the only voice I have," Glinda said, annoyed. "Give me a real answer."

"It's pretty, I assure you." Glinda scoffed as if she were the least convincing person in the world. Elphaba decided to give the girl a bone, formulate a real answer.

Elphaba did pay attention to voices. Glinda's voice was part of the reason they had managed to be friends, in truth. She could not imagine speaking regularly to someone as high and nasal as Pfannee, and hated conversation with Morrible all the more for her overly breathy and waffling way. Glinda's voiced was bearable. More than bearable.

"You have the immature beginnings of a lady's voice. Sweet, a bit thick. Always warm," Elphaba said, glancing away from her, not able to hold her eye. "And you have a rural drawl. I suppose you got that from your parents? Unbearably silly on anyone but you, that accent. Don't know how you manage it." She said this snidely.

She felt her hand taken and pressed between Glinda's. "I see," she murmured. Elphaba could not return the gaze she felt upon her profile. "Elphaba."

Elphaba's eyes closed, a shiver running through her. That voice was closer than she'd expected, like it was right in her ear. It wasn't. What were all these sensory hallucinations she'd been experiencing lately? Perhaps it was some strange magic that lingered around Glinda after her seminars with Greyling. Warped reality around her. She drew things closer to her; she warmed a room, made things and maybe people hot with a glance; her voice and laughter pierced some sonic veil and caught more attention than others, like her hair caught sunlight. Yes. Magic.

"Elphie?"

Elphaba blinked. "Mm?"

Glinda locked their fingers together again. There was something intimate about that; palm to palm contact. Her other hand drifted up, brushed against Elphaba's neck. Elphaba shook, and she was sure Glinda felt it through their hands. She looked at Glinda to see if that were the case and regretted it immediately - how did you look away from such a curious expression? It was quite impossible. She felt her hands getting clammy, wished she could wipe them on her dress.

Her hair was adjusted so it rested over her shoulder. The backs of Glinda's fingers grazed Elphaba's jaw, her thumb touching her chin - and then Elphaba saw it. The focusing of Glinda's eyes, her tongue wetting her lips. The purpose. Elphaba brought her shaking hand up to hold Glinda's wrist, to stop her or to steady herself. Her brain was screaming, but that magnetism was back, that physics-bending-thing that pulled her whole world down to Glinda. She was scarily close to hyperventilating, until Glinda closed her eyes, and then her breath stopped dead. She squeezed her eyes shut too. That's what you did, according to books she'd read. Not being able to see was more and less terrifying.

There was a moment, a sigh of breath against her chin, and then - warm, and so soft. Were kisses always this gentle? The contact was barely there, but where it was, it tingled; it felt different from anything Elphaba had ever experienced. Glinda pressed her lips more firmly to Elphaba's, and then feather light again - was she trying to test Elphaba? Elphaba didn't have the mental faculties to handle any kind of test at the moment. She was barely responding. She wasn't responding at all, in fact, she was feeling quite light headed.

Glinda pulled back, and Elphaba gasped out her held breath, wincing and flustered. Oh, god. She'd completely ruined the entire moment. Glinda was staring at her, brow furrowed in concern. "Elphie?"

Elphaba got her breathing under control. "Sorry," she half-wheezed.

Glinda analysed Elphaba. Glinda's chin trembled, and she closed her eyes briefly, inhaled. Her mouth became a firm little line. "Was that awful of me?" She asked.

Elphaba swallowed, blinked. "No," she said, her voice made odd by quietness. "No. I'm sorry I spoiled it. It was… I wanted to. Mostly." She realised the implication, saw Glinda's eyes change. "No, I mean - I did, I had thought about it quite a bit, but I was scared." Her breath caught at the admission. Glinda gazed at her with some emotion.

"You don't have to be scared." Glinda's hand opened over her cheek, her thumb stroking her cheekbone. "You could never do wrong in my eyes, Elphie. Not with this."

Elphaba chuckled breathily. "I assure you, I can."

Glinda's bit her lip nervously. Her hand dropped from Elphaba's cheek, her eyes following. She shook her head. "No, I don't think you could. You could do anything and I would be in love with it." There was a distinct vulnerability to her tone.

"Glinda…"

"Maybe you don't share this. Maybe you don't feel how I feel. But I'm -" Glinda sighed, glanced up at her. "I feel like I live to touch you. I can't help it anymore. I feel so- so desperate," she managed, ashamed and disgusted. "It's all I can think about. This." She lifted their clasped hands.

Elphaba was feeling more ecstatic than she had ever felt in her entire eighteen years of life. This came immediately with a strong and very distinct queasiness. It was the same queasiness she got when Frex acted like a father or her friends acted like she was a fun and normal human being.

"I've put you off," Glinda said, devastated. Elphaba snapped back to attention. The girl was tearing up. The queasiness increased tenfold. "I - I'm so sorry Elphie, I thought-"

"No, you haven't, I promise you," Elphaba said quickly, and struggled desperately with herself. "S-shall we sit down?"

Glinda was silent, and lead them to a nearby step. They sat down. Elphaba pressed her face into her hands. She breathed steadily, to calm herself. She peered at Glinda, not wanting to leave her too long with her anxieties. "I will be as honest as I can possibly manage," Elphaba mumbled. She attempted to think of something to say. Nothing came to her, nothing coherent. It was all so honest it wouldn't make sense, the context still jumbled in Elphaba's head. She became frustrated with herself and laughed helplessly. Glinda looked concerned.

"Elphie, are you alright?"

"You terrify me sometimes," Elphaba sighed. She glanced at Glinda, who sat quietly, brow furrowed and unsure. "I apologise. You're ten steps ahead of me with this stuff. I'm quite useless."

"With feelings, or with… the other side of it." How direct of her. Elphaba's face burned.

"With the feelings." Elphaba tipped her head. "And with the rest, I'm sure. I can only assume you've had some experience."

"None. Or, well, none I invited." Elphaba's eyes snapped to Glinda's. Glinda's eyes widened. "Oh no, nothing so bad as that - kisses, just kisses, from boys who could not ask, apparently. Master Boq. Some boy when we were practically infants. Silly things."

"Boq kissed you?"

Glinda's brow arched. "Indeed he did, at lake Chorge. You remember that trip, yes?"

"That little devil," Elphaba said, outraged. "I'll smack his hat right off his head next time we're out."

"No need. Are you quite jealous?" Glinda asked with interest. "I enjoyed our kiss much more."

Elphaba cut her eyes at Glinda, wary at the ease with which she talked of it. "I'd almost convinced myself that was some kind of hallucination."

Glinda looked something between exasperated and anxious. "You sound as if you wanted it so. I can't tell if you enjoyed it or not."

Right. She'd not yet addressed Glinda's implied question. Under pressure, she defaulted to the analytical. "I enjoyed the kiss itself. I'm sure if I were less distressed during the kiss it would have been an even better experience. But as for the implications. They're quite a puzzle," Elphaba said delicately. "Your actions imply you are attracted to me. This is a completely abstract concept - your supposed attraction toward myself - and so I have no prior experience to fall back on."

"I see," Glinda said slowly, more confused than ever.

"I am forced to create hypotheses on insufficient evidence. Perhaps you are rebelling against your parents, or society at large. Perhaps you have looked upon my dismal existence and taken pity on me. Perhaps the figs were overripe."

"Perhaps I just find you attractive," Glinda supplied helpfully.

Elphaba pressed her hands together. "I find that unlikely. You are an appreciator of the arts, that implies some aesthetic knowledge or competence, assuming there is such a thing. I believe your - shall we call it a fixation? - your appreciation for the beautiful makes that theory very unlikely."

Glinda observed her thoughtfully. It made Elphaba somewhat self conscious. "I agree that I have a discerning eye, I would not call it a fixation. Even if it were, I cannot agree with your conclusion." Glinda pursed her lips, eyed her coyly. "I think your science may have gone bad, darling."

Darling. That still startled Elphaba. "How so?"

"You cannot simply obscure key factors within said theory. You have addressed the eye of the beholder, but not whom it beholds."

Elphaba found herself becoming defensive. "I question whether the beheld requires address."

"They do. They're very important."

"I disagree-"

"I don't care," Glinda said sharply. Elphaba blinked, stunned into silence. "You're beautiful, Elphaba Thropp. And I have a better sense for these things, you said it yourself. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I'm being as honest as I can be when I say that I'm more attracted to you than I've ever been to anybody."

Elphaba couldn't respond. The magnetism returned, or perhaps Glinda was just drifting toward her, and their eyes fell shut. They kissed again, and it was somehow better than the first, like she'd theorised. She still felt queasy, but her hands didn't shake as much, and when Glinda's lips moved over hers she managed - by instinct, by sheer desire - to move with her.

They came breathlessly apart after some time. Glinda gazed into her with hazy eyes, her lips reddened. "What's the conclusion, Elphie?" She asked.

Elphaba curled her hand over the back of Glinda's neck. "The beholder and the beheld should waste less time talking when there is important science to conduct." Glinda giggled against her grinning lips and pulled them closer. Mouth to mouth with Glinda, it was as if Elphaba was more felt than seen, and that was more comforting than she'd imagined anything could be.