"Quite the rendezvous, my dear. You always have had a flair for the dramatic."

Glinda watched the robed figure before her rise from their kneel like a black spectre. They had their back to her. Above their head was a faded rendering of St. Glinda, wreathed in glittering gold leaf. Elphaba turned slowly. Glinda watched the candlelight catch her hair and struggled not to run into her arms. "I thought it was appropriate," Elphaba replied. Her voice was rough.

Glinda stepped toward her, heels clicking loudly on stone. Elphaba seemed to draw away from her. Glinda stopped. "Come now, where is your courage?" she asked gently.

Elphaba hesitated, then came forward to stand under what little moonlight was in the tiny chamber, illuminating herself. Glinda was grinning before she knew it. "I think I have forgotten how this works," Elphaba admitted. "Human interaction."

"The Animals do not speak to you?"

"They do, if they want to. When they can." She looked at her hands, calloused and twisted together. "It is not common in the areas I am working."

"Where is that?" Elphaba turned her head. It was a thoughtlessly asked question. Glinda slapped her leather gloves against her palm. "Well, you need not fret Elphie, I will not judge you."

Elphaba stepped forward and then back as if she hadn't meant to, her face contorting. "Ah, that stupid nickname."

Glinda looked over her, smiling faintly. She approached Elphaba, and stopped only when they were very close. The closeness made them aware of the wall that had developed between them. It simply wouldn't do.

She tucked Elphaba's hair behind her ear, brushing the back of her fingers against her cheek. Elphaba closed her eyes, shivering at the contact. "Elphie." Elphaba trembled hard, and pressed her hand over Glinda's. She turned her face to kiss Glinda's palm. Glinda kept her voice low and careful. "Elphie, my darling. My love. I've missed you."

Elphaba turned her face again to kiss her lips, finally. Glinda opened her mouth and drew Elphaba fiercely against her. She felt like she had been rent in two and now Elphaba's arms, so strong and curling tightly around her waist, were pulling her back together.

It had been too long this time. There had been months, two or four, seven once, but never a year. A year with no contact. A year to panic for her safety. A year to ache for her. A year to question everything they had felt and shared for a decade.

It reminded her, reminded them both, of that awful time right after school.

Elphaba broke the kiss to press her seared face into Glinda's shoulder. Her hands trembled against Glinda's waist. "We can't do this," Glinda breathed. "Elphie, we can't do this. We need to talk somehow, I need to know you're well."

"I know," Elphaba said brokenly. Glinda had seen Elphaba cry maybe twice and it had killed Glinda every time. She kept her face from Elphaba to not burn her further. She bundled Elphaba tight in her arms, murmured soothing things to her, desperate to comfort her.

"Dear Oz, you're alive. I'm so glad you're alive. I'm perfectly fine, I'm marvellous. I love you, Elphie, I'm so proud of what you're doing." Elphaba nuzzled into her neck. Glinda sighed. "You're well. Elphie, what do you want? If you could have absolutely anything right now, what would you ask for?" She wanted to give her things. She wanted to make this reunion, this time away from her work as lovely and as comfortable as possible. A nice hotel. Her favourite food and drink. Clean clothes. A good romp in a soft bed, and an undisturbed sleep of at least twelve hours.

She wanted most of all to make Elphaba stay. But that wouldn't happen.

"What do I want?" Elphaba struggled to find words. She gave them up, and drew Glinda back against her.

Glinda found themselves laid out on St. Glinda's altar, surrounded by dead petals and ceremonial candles. Elphaba must have lit them while waiting for Glinda. Had she been praying? Usually they were not desperate during these reunions - it was essential they weren't desperate, in fact - but this was different. A year from Elphaba felt like spiritual death. They pressed close and tight, trying to fuse together all of the tethers that felt damaged now.

Glinda had to relearn the act of kissing. She had to map the familiar terrain of Elphaba's mouth and throat all over again. It came back quickly enough, and it was not at all an unpleasant experience. Glinda would happily spend all week reviewing Elphaba's body, which she adored inch by inch.

Glinda undressed. She did it sitting on Elphaba's lap, like a ritual to welcome Elphaba back to her. Elphaba watched, hands moving over her too softly. "You are splendid," she sighed. Glinda did feel splendid receiving such meticulous attention, but Elphaba had always had a talent for that.

Glinda persuaded Elphaba to undress with her. Elphaba complied reluctantly. She did it lying back, where the moonlight didn't touch her and she could fold her arms over herself. Another wall that had risen from the dead. Glinda was not upset, it was a wall she had helped Elphaba deconstruct time and time again. It only made her sad. Glinda took hold of her wrists gently. She unfolded her arms and brought Elphaba's hands to her thighs. It reminded Elphaba of what was important, made her eager again.

She sat up, gripping and pressing Glinda's hips as tightly against her as possible, her mouth climbing up Glinda's chest and neck. Glinda buried her hands in Elphaba's hair, a sensation she had missed immensely. She slid a hand down her shifting back. Elphie was so bony it worried Glinda, but that was just her body. Over and between all the angles was muscle - muscle made harder and bigger since she'd started her more rigorous assignments over Oz. They moved beneath her hands in the most tantalising way. Elphaba was far from a broad person still. Forever a beanpole, only more defined. Glinda loved it.

Big hands for such a narrow person. They slid over her feather-light, made her nerves burn. Glinda dragged her nails down Elphaba's shoulders, a non-verbal demand, and Elphaba chuckled breathily against her ear. She seized Glinda's bottom roughly - Glinda gasped, shuddering against her - and curled an arm around Glinda's waist. There was a particularly exciting contrast within everything Elphaba did. Calloused hands that held her tenderly. A soft, wet, hot mouth, with relentless teeth that raked over Glinda's cleavage, framed her nipple carefully.

Glinda found herself grinding down into Elphaba's lap, attempting some measure of relief. She didn't really care for teasing right now. She grasped Elphaba's jaw and pulled her into a firm kiss, sucking Elphaba's tongue into her mouth. Elphaba groaned shamelessly, her hands squeezing whatever they were holding. She caressed Glinda's inner thigh, thumb rubbing the crook of her leg and hip, and Glinda automatically spread her legs as if in answer. She was, still, frustratingly light. Glinda was about to bite Elphaba or something before she felt her fingers uncurl and slide between Glinda's lips, her thumb pressing cautiously against her hood. Glinda arched and moaned, her voice catching as Elphaba dipped very slightly inside of her.

Elphaba let out a shaky breath. "Lord, you're wet," she murmured. Her voice was so low it rumbled in her chest. Glinda had dreamed of that voice more times than she could count.

"Mm. I've been anticipating this greatly." Elphaba made some noise against her neck, acknowledgment and a return of the sentiment. "I was touching myself all through the carriage ride here." She had touched herself with rather more indulgence than Elphaba touched her now. Maddening.

Elphaba peered up at her, eyes bright. "Thinking of me?"

Glinda held her face, brushing her thumb over Elphaba's lips. "Elphie… who else?" Elphaba became flustered, and pulled Glinda's thumb into her mouth, her tongue sliding against its unworked pad. She kissed Glinda's palm, and took Glinda's two fingers when they were pressed to her lips, sucking at them gently. Glinda could have swooned. Watching Elphaba with her lips around her was incredibly erotic, and she seemed so keen on it. Elphaba pulled back, running her tongue between Glinda's fingers, blushing hard. She peered up at Glinda nervously.

"Was that odd?"

Glinda sighed dreamily, dipped down to kiss her. "No, my love."

Elphaba buried her head in the crook of Glinda's neck and slid her finger deeper inside Glinda, curling ever-so-slightly. She never quite touched that place Glinda wanted her to and she knew it, the devil. It was only when she added a second finger that she reached further within Glinda, pressing against her, making her moan and grip Elphaba's back and flexing arm, her thighs squeezing together desperately. She managed to regain control of her body, matched her rhythm, riding Elphaba roughly. She pressed her lips to Elphaba's temple. "More," she breathed, and whimpered as Elphaba slid another finger in her, stretching her in the most excellent way.

Elphaba had been quite taken aback when Glinda had made that preference clear. Elphaba, because of her particular sex or simply because of her size, rarely enjoyed any more than a finger inside of her. Glinda had asked how her and Fiyero had managed it. Elphaba had responded reluctantly. "Grinding. He tried once. He was too large."

"I can imagine, big gent like him."

"He was average in size, I believe," Elphaba had said with some amusement. "Had you imagined? Fiyero's size."

"Oh, shut up Elphie." She could only take conversation about old flames for so long.

Elphaba thrust her fingers to the knuckle, slick heel pressing against her clit, and Glinda was gone; she leaned back in Elphaba's arms, shaking and dragging her nails hard over Elphaba's shoulders.

She cradled Glinda against her with one arm, the other fussing with something else, Glinda was not paying attention. She lay Glinda down on some fabric thing instead of the chilly stone floor. Glinda stretched, sighing and shivering with aftershocks. Elphaba sat between her legs with a somewhat smug smile. "Let me know when you're ready to continue."

"Oh, I'll need a good while after that."

"Well I'm aching for it. Can I borrow your thigh?" Elphaba draped herself over Glinda, lifting her leg over Glinda's hip. She pressed herself against Glinda. Her eyes fluttered shut. She hid her face in Glinda's breasts, rocking against her with a hypnotic kind of sensuality.

Glinda ran her hand over Elphaba's shoulders and down her back, grabbing at what little behind she had, sliding her fingers between Elphaba's legs. Elphaba twitched, purring into Glinda's cleavage. That was the only way Glinda could describe that particular sound Elphaba made. It came from deep within her, was as husky as her speaking voice, and rolled from her heavy with pleasure. It reminded Glinda a bit of a Tiger, which was somehow more erotic. Was that morally wrong? She'd ask Elphaba later.

Glinda focused on pressing her fingers against Elphaba's folds, around her unusually large pearl, rubbing it between her fingers gently. Elphaba came up on her arms and caught Glinda in a messy, open mouthed kiss, rutting against her hip desperately. Glinda stroked her faster, and Elphaba went dead still, her whole body going taught as a bowstring. She exhaled, and released, melting over Glinda bonelessly.

Glinda gathered her into her arms, running her hands over Elphaba's back. Glinda observed her exhausted profilet and smiled. She kissed her forehead.

Elphaba rolled off of her, stretching as Glinda had, then lying limp and exposed. Glinda took to tracing her fingers over the scores in Elphaba's skin. There were enough to keep her going for ages. She peered up at Elphaba. "Have you gotten any new scars?"

"Yes," Elphaba said brightly. She thought her scars gave her character, an attitude that always surprised Glinda considering how insecure Elphie was otherwise. "On my shoulder."

"Left or right?"

"Left."

Glinda ran her hand over her shoulder and felt it, and then pressed her lips to it. "How did you get it?"

"Oh, you don't want to know." Glinda made a face and Elphaba chuckled. "It was a bayonet belonging to a Gale Force private. Thought he could leap his way up his career by killing me. Hunted me for a good few weeks."

"My god, how awful!"

"I survived," Elphaba said too flippantly for Glinda. "He never got a shot, and when it came to a melee confrontation I was able to immobilize him. Stole his rifle too."

"Oh Elphie, you didn't," Glinda said with mounting concern. Elphaba's eyes lit up.

"I did. I got a sniper rifle, too. Those things are beastly. They have a telescopic lens mounted on the top."

Galinda leaned away from her. "Since when do you like weapons?"

"I don't. I would never use one, not unless push came to shove I suppose." She paused. "I might sniper Morrible."

"Elphie!"

"Or the Wizard himself. That pathetic man is begging for it."

Glinda pressed her hand to her head, chuckling exasperatedly. It had been so long, she even missed the way Elphaba made her worry like this. "Please don't shoot anyone. Your work is dangerous enough as it is without that on your head." Glinda looked at her. "And it would haunt you, my love. It would not be good for you."

"Soldiers kill all the time."

"Soldiers come back with their heads in pieces."

Elphaba fell silent at that. "I won't shoot anyone."

"Thank you."

Elphaba sat up. She leaned down to kiss Glinda, then got on her knees, reaching for a bundle by the altar. "I nicked something for us."

Glinda sat up on her elbows. "What?"

Elphaba shuffled back beside her and yanked open an ancient bottle of blessed wine. "If it's good enough for saints..." Elphaba said with a charming grin. She took a swig and passed it over.

"We are saints, are we not?" Glinda said it to poke her. Her name's association was an amusingly effective bait for her temper.

Elphaba glanced down at her, brushing her thumb over Glinda's lips. "You may well be, my sweet." Glinda melted. Distance was hell, but it made Elphaba dreadfully romantic. Glinda took a long pull of the wine.

"Is this from Settica?"

"How the hell would I know?" Elphaba said distractedly.

"Settica use stone to hold their reserves so there's less tannin. This has that acidity..." Elphaba looked at her in mild disgust. "I can't help how I was raised," Glinda said breezily. She lay back, glancing around the little shrine. "What were you doing in here?"

"Hm?"

"Just now, and before - I told you this is how I found you back then, yes? - why did you come here?"

Elphaba had thrown on a shirt, and was going about lighting more of the candles on the altar. "I was praying."

Well now. "Since when do you pray?"

Elphaba settled beside Glinda, laying on her side to look at her. "I don't pray to the Unnamed God."

"You pray to St. Glinda?" Glinda asked softly. Elphaba's black eyes caught hers and held them. She had a gaze that absorbed your own.

"Yes."

"What do you pray for?"

They had drifted closer together. Elphaba pressed her lips to Glinda's, brushed her cheek against hers. "For her to bring me home." Her lips moved against Glinda's neck. "For her to protect me."

Glinda curled her arms around Elphaba, holding her close. She wished she could keep Elphaba with her. She wished she could protect her. If she were there she could provide warmth, spells, make potions, take bullets. Nothing Elphaba truly needed, she supposed, except companionship. If Elphaba even needed that.

Elphaba had nestled into her shoulder. Glinda leaned back to peer down at her. She was breathing very slowly, perhaps asleep, Glinda wasn't sure. She was peaceful in that she was static. Still she looked troubled, her brow in a permanent furrow, her mouth tense. Glinda ran her hands through Elphaba's hair, fingers running over her scalp, sometimes brushing her ear. She did this over and over, her breathing matched to Elphaba's, and Elphaba slowly relaxed bit by bit. She seemed suddenly as soft and vulnerable as a child.

They lay there for a short time, Glinda's hands running through Elphaba's hair and over her back. Elphaba blinked sleepily. She peered up at Glinda. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," Glinda murmured. Glinda brushed her fingers over Elphaba's cheek. "You should stay for the week. Get some rest."

"I don't have the time," Elphaba sighed.

"Elphie, you're your own boss. You do have the time. Time at least for a week." Elphaba looked unsure. Glinda's thumb traced her bottom lip. "Please, my love. We haven't been together for a year."

Elphaba took on this particular look. Glinda remembered it right back to their days in Shiz. It'd been the same look that had made Glinda realise Elphaba was in love with her. It filled Glinda with some indescribable feeling for her strange and mythic partner. "Okay," Elphaba said quietly.

"Thank you."

Elphaba hesitated, her eyes dropping. "No, I… want to. I want to be with you."

Glinda smiled adoringly. "And you need to rest," she said sternly.

"I do rest on the job, you know."

"Not enough knowing you," Glinda shot back. Elphaba made some noise, neither confirming nor denying this claim. They fell into a comfortable silence.

In the space of this silence, Glinda's mind caught up to her body. It was still unsure of Elphaba's existence. The year gone by had felt like one of the longest Glinda had endured, but was now rendered some strange and irrelevant blur. What had happened? Work, friends, some changes? Nothing important. Important had been off in the south, saving the world.

"It's awfully chilly here."

"I have another blanket if you'd like to use it."

Glinda would rather go home. Elphaba had yet to see her new apartment. Glinda had been living in a loft a bit like Elphaba's old room, but she'd recently left her job at an apothecary to assist a court witch, and could afford to upgrade. Her most useful contacts came through Crope these days; he had become a journalist to fund his thespian pursuits, and introduced everyone he could to Glinda. She had become somewhat infamous for her divorced-spinster status. Thankfully, anyone that liked Crope enough to meet his friends generally approved of Glinda's lifestyle.

They agreed to go to Glinda's apartment. Elphaba draped the blanket about her anyway, as it was closer to a robe. It didn't look right with Glinda's outfit at all but it smelled like Elphaba and like the woods. Glinda pulled it around herself, her cheeks warm, Elphaba's hand resting on the small of her back the whole way.

They came to a building that apparently surprised Elphaba. She looked up and down the street. "When you said you'd moved, you didn't mention that you'd moved up. This is much too nice a street."

"It's not poverty-stricken," Glinda allowed, unlocking the front door and leading Elphaba up the flight of stairs. She unlocked and followed Elphaba into the apartment. She took off her shoes at the door, a habit she'd picked up from her old boss at the apothecary, a half-Quadling. "The bed will be a tad tight, but let's be honest, we'll be on top of each other the whole time." Elphaba didn't respond. She was standing in the middle of the combination kitchen-and-dining room, looking about herself. "Elphie?"

She looked back at Glinda. "This is… nice."

Glinda smiled unsurely. "You've gotten used to the forest, haven't you?"

"Perhaps."

Glinda made them tea and a dish involving all of Elphaba's favourite vegetables - Glinda had inferred these through observation alone. Elphaba went into the bathroom to wash, scrubbing herself with her oils and brushing her hair until it shone. Elphaba paced around in an open robe she had borrowed from Glinda's collection, a thing of mauve silk that ended midthigh. Glinda watched, torn between laughing and tackling her onto the bed. She settled on a giggle. "Is that how they dress where you were working?"

Elphaba was putting her hair up, and peered at Glinda with a strip of cloth in her mouth. She transferred it into her hand. "Depends how much fur they had."

"Really?"

"No," Elphaba said with a little smile. She padded over to Glinda, and Glinda loved the image of it. Elphaba, basically naked in her clothes, in her apartment, her hair loosely bound. Glinda rested her hands on Elphaba's hips when she was close enough, leaning back against the kitchenette counter and pulling Elphaba against her. Elphaba's brow arched. "Don't want to hear any more about my friends, then?"

"You may tell me all about them when you're looking less attractive." Elphaba's face darkened. She pulled Glinda into a slow and thorough kiss. She took Glinda's lip between her teeth, pulling at it gently, chasing the pain with her tongue. That drove Glinda mad. Her hands moved down, grabbing Elphaba's bottom, pressing them together firmly.

Elphaba sighed against her mouth and pulled back just when it was getting good. "You're cooking." Glinda frowned, then rolled her eyes and turned to check the food. Elphaba peered over her shoulder. "Smells good."

"It's everything you like."

Elphaba inspected the pan curiously. She made a noise. "So it is." She picked up a piece of zucchini, popping it into her mouth. Glinda slapped her arm. Elphaba snorted, kissed her cheek and pulled away from her. "I have a letter to write. Do you have ink?"

"Yes, on my desk in the bedroom."

They ate the dish with sourdough and cheese. Glinda made Elphaba stop writing so she could focus on the food. "I can do both at once," Elphaba said. Glinda gave her a narrow-eyed look.

"I put a lot of love into this, you know." She gestured at the dish with a nod. "Appreciate it properly."

Elphaba managed to put down her pen in the most exasperated way possible and ate her food.

Glinda was going to ask Elphaba if there was anything she might want to do, but it was a silly question. Since when did they do anything but be together after Elphaba had come back from a long job? Therefore this job, being all the longer, demanded more time alone. Once they had eaten and Elphaba had written her letter, Glinda drew her into bed, to lay and talk and touch at their leisure. They were immediately having sex, of course. Then it dissolved into Elphaba recounting her year, her head in Glinda's naked lap. Glinda listened, rapt by the horror and the magic Elphaba had found in the forests to the south. She had travelled, by foot, some great distance, passing through locations she could not tell Glinda, assisting local communities of Animals and Quadlings when she could.

Amongst all of it was the danger. These parts Glinda did not enjoy hearing. She was simultaneously dreading and desperate for these details, for how Elphaba was almost killed by Gale Force, or wary Quadlings, or territorial Vinkan clans. "I can't believe the fear the Wizard has inspired in the Quadlings," Elphaba said quietly. "It was like a paradise when we were young - not the kind you know, its own paradise, unlike anywhere, and the people were always open. Now they know." Elphaba had become fierce. "They know he's evil. They see an unfamiliar face or, god forbid, that awful cross, and it terrifies them. And the difference in the land, you wouldn't believe it. They just destroy everything they touch."

Glinda ran her hands soothingly though Elphaba's hair. "I'm sorry it's been so changed."

"Desecrated more like."

"I would like to see it someday, to better understand what's happening."

Elphaba peered up at Glinda. "Truly?"

"Yes. With you, of course."

Elphaba smiled at that. "You'd hate it. You'd get mud all over your nice shoes and dresses."

"Then I will not wear my nice shoes and dresses," Glinda said primly. Elphaba cackled.

"Good! Wear a sturdy pair of boots like me, and trousers! Oh, please wear trousers, they do wonders my dear." Elphaba sat up on her hands, beaming at Glinda. "Or perhaps you meant nothing at all?" She buried her head in Glinda's neck, going for Glinda's sides. Glinda burst into laughter, squirming away from Elphaba's hands desperately. Elphaba relented with the tickling to pull Glinda into her lap instead.

Glinda rested her hands on Elphaba's chest, gazing down at her with a little smile. She was suddenly overcome with emotion. "It's so good to see you," she said quietly.

Elphaba's face faltered slightly, and her calloused hands covered Glinda's, rubbed the back of her arms and knuckles. "And you, my sweet." Her eyes had fallen. She hesitated to say something.

"What is it?" Glinda asked softly.

"I don't want to be away that long again," Elphaba said stiffly. She glanced up at Glinda. "Because I missed you, of course, and because it… was beginning to affect me psychologically."

Glinda was studying Elphaba very closely. "What do you mean? Did something happen?"

Elphaba avoided her eye, mouth drawn into a tense little line. "I don't want to worry you. Nothing happened."

"Elphie."

"I, um…" Elphaba hands took hers, her brow furrowing. "I really didn't care if I died, toward the end." Glinda struggled to remain still, seeing she had more to say. "I wanted to sometimes," she said quietly.

Glinda exhaled shakily. "Oh, Elphie…"

"I know, it's not-"

"We'll find some way to talk, yes?" Glinda held her face, tried to stop the tremble in her hands. "Some way to contact each other."

"I think that would be wise," Elphaba murmured. She looked up at Glinda, unusually open. "I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine now."

Glinda pressed their foreheads together. "You promise, Elphie?"

"I do." Her hands moved over Glinda, her mouth drifting along her jaw. "I missed you," Elphaba said quietly. She always spoke more honestly when Glinda could not look at her. "I forget the world is good without you."

Glinda closed her eyes, her breath catching at Elphaba's beautiful voice, her lips dragging over the sensitive shell of Glinda's ear. Her head tipped back to make it easier for Elphaba to cover her with kisses. Once her teeth were against Glinda's throat it was off to the races; Elphaba turned them over, pressing her into the mattress, pressing every thought from her head but an endless loop of Elphaba.

"So, how will I contact you?"

"Letters. You remember that system I told you about. You just need to use that." She had asked Elphaba about the complex messaging system their movement used, and Elphaba had attempted to explain, but Glinda had quickly gotten bored of it. She just knew it involved Birds and was therefore exceptionally fast, with letters arriving sometimes within the fortnight.

"You'll have to tell me where you are to do that."

Elphaba looked off thoughtfully. "Not necessarily. There may be some other way to do it, something-"

"Elphie. Who am I going to tell?" Glinda asked, a bit hurt. Elphaba looked at her quickly.

"I am not afraid you will tell," She said, though Glinda figured she was half lying. "I'm worried someone will hurt you to get it."

"They'll hurt me to get it either way, my love." Elphaba's face fell and became pale. Glinda felt sorry for scaring her. "Perhaps you should stay longer so we can get it all sorted out."

Elphaba looked unsure, then became resolute. "No. I'll just make sure the next few missions are shorter."

Glinda sat up in bed, looking down at her with a frown. "Elphie, it would be better to just get it all out of the way-"

"I can't let them outpace us," Elphaba said earnestly.

"You aren't the only one working out there, Elphie. Are you?" Elphaba made a face. "God, are you really alone in this?"

"Not completely," Elphaba said. "It's a mass of people. Some less organised than others. Most of them do not have the time or freedom I do, however."

"You don't have the time and freedom," Glinda said, sounding utterly hopeless. Elphaba turned her head. Glinda hugged her hard. "Please take care of yourself."

"I'm not leaving yet." To Glinda it felt like she was already gone.

Elphaba wrote to all of the friends she could over Oz, asking if they would pass letters to her sent by 'Miss Chuffrey' when she was there to work. She told Glinda to take her letters to a particular post office in the downtown quarter, to drop the name Fae, and give her letters to a bespectacled Monkey. Glinda wrote these bizarre details in a little notebook.

They left the apartment on the fifth day to buy groceries in the very early morning. Glinda put a glamour spell on Elphaba to make her feel more comfortable, though she still wrapped her scarf high up around her face. They passed a fruit stand. Glinda's eye caught one particular platter. She took up one of the fruit, holding it before Elphie. "Have you had figs before?" she asked girlishly.

Elphaba looked at the fig, then at her, her eyes widening with recognition. "The figs."

"You remember?"

"Of course." She took it from Glinda delicately, held it as if inspecting its elements. "We must get some."

"Really?" Elphaba glanced at her as if self conscious. "I'm not opposed. I love figs."

They returned with milk and tea and bread and cheese and more, and figs. Elphaba sat on the kitchen counter as Glinda unpacked everything, her legs swinging very jollily, the sun on her back. She was so charming when she was unaware of herself. Glinda took a break to hold Elphie's face between her hands and draw her down for a kiss, then went right on unpacking. Elphaba whistled something. "Can I have a fig?" she asked a moment later.

"Of course. Keep some for me."

"I heard figs have dead wasps in them," Elphaba said thoughtfully around her full mouth. "That's how they're pollinated. Dead wasps."

"Excellent," Glinda said warily.

"Well, they're digested by an enzyme within the fruit. It's actually more complicated than that, it depends if its a male or female fig… doesn't that seem foolish? To have male and female categories for a fruit? Though I suppose that makes a lot more sense than applying it to humans as we do. At least there is some consistency with male and female flora. Or so I assume."

"Do you think there's some pretty green figs that are in between?" Glinda asked, bumping her hip against Elphaba's leg. Elphaba hummed.

"It is likely. Mutations happen all the time in nature."

"I see," Glinda said distractedly, pushing a little sack of flour up into her cupboards. Everything packed away, she went over to Elphaba, her hands resting on her thighs. Elphaba brought the box of figs around and held it between them.

"Want one?"

"After this wasp talk?"

"They still taste good. The wasp is gone." Glinda popped a fig in her mouth. She chewed them slow, to savour it.

"I just had a thought," she said.

"Mm?"

"Next place I get, I'll make sure there's a garden. And we'll plant a fig tree."

Elphaba looked amused. "That'll take years to grow, my dear. At least thirty."

"They start fruiting after just a few years."

Elphaba blinked. "How do you know that?" She paused. "Have you thought about this before?"

"Maybe."

Elphaba smiled genuinely at that. "Alright."

Glinda rocked on her feet, grinning. "Just had another thought."

"You're on a roll."

"Fig kisses." She got a fig from the box. She held it between them, bit it, and took Elphaba's face in hand, pulling their mouths together. That clean sweetness broke over their tongues.

Elphaba pulled back with a little frown. "I feel like you just fed me."

"Oh, don't ruin it." Glinda turned to lean back against Elphaba's front, taking another fig from the box. She began to peel it with her nails for the fun of it. "I thought it might be a good combination. Food and sex. Especially nice food."

"The wine was nice."

"Chocolate," Glinda wondered out loud.

"I'm not so keen on chocolate."

"I know. Ridiculous." Glinda gave up peeling the fig and bit half of it. She gave the other half to Elphie.

"Unless it's dark," Elphaba mumbled around a now full mouth.

"Dark chocolate doesn't melt as well usually."

"Jam?"

"Too sticky."

Elphaba's hands ran down her shoulders, caressing her arms. "Saffron cream."

Glinda peered back at her. "That's not a bad idea. If it doesn't smell."

"It won't smell if we're thorough," Elphaba mumbled against her neck; she licked her cheekily. Glinda giggled, twisting from her arms.

"Alright," she said coyly. "Saffron cream. I'll pop down and get some."

Elphaba arched a brow. "I wasn't serious. It's too expensive-"

"Nonsense. You're home after a year, and we can't a have a bit of fun with some saffron cream? I won't be a moment."

"I'll come."

"My love, you hate going out there. I don't want you anxious. Let me." Glinda patted her face patronisingly and put on her sunhat. "I won't be a tick."

She got the saffron cream from a local bakery, something of a splurge but certainly worth it. When she returned, Elphaba was already undressed and waiting at the kitchen counter. Glinda kicked the door closed, looked at her from head to toe. Elphaba uncrossed her legs and dropped onto her feet. "I figured we'd best keep the mess to the hardwood and tiles."

Glinda crossed the room, throwing the cream aside carelessly; she pressed Elphaba back against the counter and met her in a firm kiss. Elphaba exhaled when she pulled away, her cheeks dark green. "Good thinking."

They found out that cream melted and became quite unpleasant when left on warm skin. It was a decent addition while it kept its form; it was an excuse to lick as much of Elphaba as she liked, and the finger sucking was somehow all the more erotic with some cream thrown in. Elphaba attempting to chase cream as it rolled down Glinda's breasts was also hilarious to watch. It was so messy and nice, they'd forgotten to get to any actual sex.

"Do you think it would be alright to get cream in a quim?"

"No idea," Glinda said thoughtfully as she reclined in the bath, Elphaba rubbing herself with oil beside her. They had ended up spectacularly sticky from the sugar in the cream.

"Probably not. I read a book, written by midwives from Nest Hardings, that suggested they have some natural cleaning cycle. Cream would probably interfere. And imagine when it went bad. No, that can't be good."

Glinda glanced at Elphaba, watched as she scrubbed efficiently at her armpits. She smiled fondly. She liked that. She liked Elphaba being so real and human and physically present. She cleared her throat. "You'll be leaving in two nights, won't you." She saw Elphaba go still in her periphery.

"Yes," Elphaba said quietly, as if just remembering herself.

"We'd better make these last days count, my love." She looked at Elphaba. Elphaba stared back pensively.

"Okay." She continued to clean herself briefly, and then stood. Glinda became somewhat breathless, looking at Elphaba oiled up in a dark candle-lit room. Elphaba glanced down at her. "Dry yourself thoroughly. The last thing we want are interruptions."

Glinda nodded and bit her lip as she watched Elphaba pace out of the room. She scrambled out of the bath.

They were sufficiently passionate for their last two days, Glinda supposed. They got more desperate as time marched on. By the second night Glinda was half on the edge of tears watching Elphaba sleep, worrying and missing her already. She covered her in soft kisses, tracing the lines of her face and her neck. Elphaba woke slowly beneath the attention, her hand bumping Glinda's thigh.

"Glinda."

She almost sobbed into her chest. "Please don't leave. Please." Elphaba's hand rested over the curve of her jaw, guided her up so Elphaba could kiss her. "Please," she mumbled against her mouth. Elphaba covered her lips with her own, swallowed her words. She twisted them together, kissed her deeply, a leisurely and smouldering kind of passionate.

"Elphie," Glinda breathed.

"Mm?"

"Mark me?" Elphaba's hand curled up and around to hold the back of her neck, making her shiver. "So I can see it later."

Elphaba sighed against her feelingly, and sucked hard at her throat, bit her less carefully than usual. Elphaba was rarely rough and so Glinda enjoyed it immensely when she was, spurring her on with her hands and half-coherent mutters. Elphaba's teeth dug into her shoulder and it brought fresh tears to her eyes, but it was fitting. The pain made sense. They held and did everything as hard as they dared.

By the end of that day, both aching and deeply enraptured, Elphaba decided to stay.

"You know I had to go eventually."

Glinda did know. She was still sad. They had dragged that week out to a month, and the initial desperation had passed now, so she was not so devastated. Not outwardly, at least. They walked together to the Cloister of St. Glinda in Seddon where she would see Elphaba off.

"How long is this job?"

"Three weeks, if we're lucky."

"Be lucky."

"I'll try my very hardest, my dear." They exchanged sad, affectionate smiles.

Elphaba slipped into the prayer room. She sat on her legs in front of the altar and bowed her head, her hands clasped somewhere beneath her robe. Glinda stood beyond her, watching numbly.

After some stretch of time Glinda had to speak. "You don't have any real faith in this, do you?" Elphaba peered back at her, and then up at the saint's portrait.

"Of course not. There's no proof of it. No truth that I have seen. Saints, sages, God."

"And yet here we are, mere hours before you leave again," Glinda said quietly.

Elphaba was still for a long moment, then patted the ground beside her. Glinda frowned, shifted unsurely. Elphaba patted the ground again. Glinda sat beside her with her legs folded beneath her, like Elphaba.

"This saint has no religious meaning to me. Religion has no meaning to me. To that capacity, I have no faith." She gazed thoughtfully at the candles of the altar, at the saint's image. "But I don't need faith for this to… be healing. Because the saint has her name. Has your name. Do you understand?"

"No," Glinda said childishly. Elphaba looked at her. "Why do you have to leave?" Glinda pressed her hand to her mouth, her face crumpling. Elphaba's exhaled, her arms coming around Glinda.

"I'm not leaving," Elphaba murmured, muffled in Glinda's shoulder. "Even when I tried to leave I could not leave you."

Glinda experienced a fresh wave of tears thinking of when Elphaba really had left. Had that time been so different from these? Did it hurt less now?

A stupid question. Of course it hurt less. Because she knew Elphaba wanted to come back to her. Because she got on her knees and begged a saint to bring her home. But her world was bigger than Glinda, and Glinda's was bigger than her, in truth. She was practicing magic, learning from women almost as powerful as Morrible and not half as scary. She was learning to be independent. But for Glinda, love would always be her priority.

Was it the same for Elphaba?

Glinda draped her black cloak, still smelling of the woods, over her rigid shoulders. She clasped it with a brooch of Glinda's.

"Take care of yourself, my sweet."

"Of course." Glinda forced a smile.

Elphaba looked out to the street. She looked back at Glinda, unexpectedly vulnerable. "Keep me in your thoughts…" Her brow furrowed. Glinda stepped into her space, took her hands. She pressed her lips to Elphaba's knuckles.

"Always, my love."

Glinda found a store just inside the cathedral on Brightson that sold religious trinkets and decor. It was the only store of its kind. Glinda was a bit surprised it had survived in such a faithless city, though it was inside a huge church. She stepped into the store and found it surprisingly modern, the front windows large, letting light pour over a spacious and restrained shopfloor. The back wall of the store was covered from top to bottom in circular plaques painted with the portraits of various saints. Glinda meandered toward them, was smiled at by the young maunt behind the counter. "Can I help you?"

Glinda smiled back. "Yes. I'm looking for a picture, like those, of St. Aelphaba." The maunt peered up at the wall. She hummed.

"I'll check in the storeroom, won't be a tick." She went off. Glinda perused the table in the centre of the store. There were glass display boxes full of rings and earrings, artful branches draped with necklaces and bracelets. Most of them had the signature Unionist rose, some had the bejewelled hand of the Unnamed God, or tiny painted portraits of prophets and saints. They were quite pretty, if only they didn't represent what they did. The maunt came back out.

"Saint Aelphaba," the maunt said triumphantly, portrait in hand. "That will be all?"

"Yes, thank you." Glinda paid the lady. She packed it in butcher's paper and handed it to Glinda.

"Haven't been asked about saint Aelphaba ever in my life. How'd you come to hold her special?"

Glinda looked at the maunt. She was five or so years Glinda's junior. "I have a lover that looks like her." The maunt blinked, too confused to be shocked, and Glinda left the store smiling.

She came home and unwrapped the portrait in her livingroom. She had pushed her little chair-side table against the wall, and placed the portrait on it, surrounding it with candles and a fresh vase of roses. She lit the candles. She sat before her homemade altar, staring at Saint Aelphaba's portrait. The saint had her head bowed, hand pressed strangely to her forehead. Not very Elphaba at all. Not that it really mattered. She locked her hands together and closed her eyes.

"St. Aelphaba… please protect my companion. She has your namesake. She has family that serve your God and want her safe. And she has me, and has driven me to prayer. So… she's earned it, I think."

Glinda felt silly. She decided the religious side of this was useless to her - she had no faith in it. She did have some belief in the Beyond. Things that alluded her understanding. She was keenly aware of where these things stopped and began, being a practitioner of magic.

Her hands tightened, and she spoke from that place instead. "Please, please, keep her safe. Keep her together. Give her some success. Bring her back to me," she plead quietly, and felt herself on the edge of tears. "Please don't take her from me."

Glinda peered up at the portrait. She didn't see Elphaba's face there. But it didn't matter, as Elphaba had said. It was Glinda's reverence given physical form. It was something of her in their apartment, to sit amongst everything else. The smell of Elphaba in every room. The used fountain pen, the oil-damp rag, the aches and marks in Glinda's very flesh. She would not be gone a year this time.

Glinda smiled at the portrait, kissed her own clasped hands, and got up to write a letter.