AN. I love a good meet-cute. It's one of my favourite tropes. And a little while ago, I decided just to write a whole bunch and keep them stored away for a rainy day, for a series I'm calling "Timeless"- inspired by the Taylor Swift song. I've got 9-10 of these in various stages of ready to go, each a stand-alone meet-cute. On Ao3 I'll be posting these individually as a series for tagging purposes, but it seemed easier here to post them as one story.

This first one was based on the story of how Stephen Colbert met his wife., as he's told both on his late show and the podcast the late night hosts did during the 2023 writer's strike.

But Wicked's 20th birthday seems like a pretty good reason for some Fiyeraba meet-cute goodness!

He Just Knew

"When are you going to ask me to marry you?"

Fiyero choked on the sip of wine he'd just taken; hastily and rather blindly putting the glass back onto the table top as he turned his head and coughed, his eyes watering. When he'd recovered somewhat, waving off the concerned waiter who was heading towards their table, he cleared his throat weakly and turned back to his girlfriend.

Rationally, he supposed it wasn't that odd of a question. They'd been together for almost two years; they'd met one another's families; and although they didn't live together, they spent enough time together and had hit enough of the relationship milestones that a proposal was not an absurd idea.

But here was the thing: they'd never talked about marriage beyond the abstract notion, an acknowledgement that it was a goal they each one day hoped to accomplish.

"Marriage?" he asked hoarsely, still coughing slightly. "You- you think we're ready for that?"

Fiyero certainly didn't feel ready- either individually or as part of a couple. He was only twenty-eight, for Oz's sake.

Paive arched an eyebrow slightly, taking a sip of her own wine. "I think I'd like to have my first marriage before my friends all start on their second."

Ah. Fiyero should have seen this coming.

Three of Paive's friends had gotten married in the past eight months alone, and they were due to attend another two in the next six months. Fiyero suspected what was really eating at Paive though, was her twenty-year old sister announcing her engagement to the family a week prior. It had probably been eating at her since.

"Right," Fiyero said distantly, just managing to refrain from commenting on the little amount of faith Paive clearly had in the lasting testament of her friends' marriages. "Look, I just- I don't know if I'm- I mean, I guess I figured there'd be things I'd… do before I got married?"

Paive looked totally unimpressed with this response. "Things? What things?" she asked sceptically.

Fiyero faltered. 'Things' had seemed like a better response than telling her that he'd always figured he'd just know when he was ready to get married, like in the stories his father and grandparents had always told him as a child.

"I just knew Yero. I just knew," his dad had said mysteriously once when he'd been about nine and started to ask the questions about the life his parents had before they were… well, parents.

At nine, Fiyero had thought that was a weird answer. At twenty-six, he still thought it was a weird answer, but trusted it would all come right somehow- his dad had never steered him wrong before.

"Well," Fiyero said, taking another- more careful- sip of wine before answering. "You know, be set up. Travel, be able to pay for a wedding, maybe buy a house."

Paive's face softened somewhat. "Yero," she said, leaning across the table towards him. "I understand that. But we've been together for almost two years, and I think it's been enough time for us to make a decision about our future."

"A decision?" Fiyero repeated, still trying to comprehend how'd they gone from a simple dinner out because neither felt like cooking to what essentially felt like an ultimatum.

"I think it's time," Paive said, rather too calmly. "Something needs to change. Either we get married, or we break up."

If Fiyero had been drinking, he would have choked again. As his hand was empty, he settled for just gaping at her.

"That's it?" he asked. "Those are our only two options? What if- what if we talked about living together?"

Paive shook her head. "So you can delay this discussion for another two years? Fiyero, I have plans for my life. I don't want you to decide in two years' time that you don't want to get married, and then I have to start all over again at twenty-eight. I want to have children before I'm thirty."

Fiyero blinked. Children?

"I think you should take some time and think about what you want and if you want to commit to me," Paive advised him. "Let's take the rest of the week and the weekend and meet on Monday night, alright?"

Fiyero didn't remember agreeing to this plan, but he must have given her some form of agreement because when they parted ways outside the restaurant, Paive kissed him lightly and said "I'll see you on Monday night," before climbing into the waiting carriage.

Fiyero went home and collapsed onto the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Marriage.

Was he ready for that? And was Paive the one he wanted to be his wife? To spend the rest of his life with?

He loved her, that was certain. He wouldn't still be with her if he didn't. But their relationship was far from perfect, he could admit. They'd talked about living together about a year ago, had even trialled it for two weeks. But Paive had been frustrated by the clutter Fiyero left around; he had gotten irritated by her wanting to be by his side every moment, and they'd ultimately decided that they had things to work on before re-visiting that idea. A year on, it hadn't come up again until he'd raised it tonight.

There were other issues too- Paive thought Fiyero spent money too freely, even though he lived within his means. He hated the way she complained about her job that she hated and the annoying colleagues she suffered, yet did nothing to consider changing jobs, even though she could easily. Paive worked in finance and was very good at her job; she'd been headhunted by other firms at least twice since she and Fiyero had been together, yet she'd turned them both down.

Fiyero definitely hated aspects of his job, as he suspected everyone did. Teaching had never really been his planned career- school hadn't been fun since he was twelve, and his parents were both teachers, so he knew both sides of what the job was like. He'd just kind of fallen into it at university when he didn't know what else to do. But as much as he hated dealing with the admin side of teaching, he loved the actual teaching part. Five-year-olds were hilarious, and he never got bored in their conversations. It made him excited about the idea of having children of his own one day; but he had to admit that when he thought about them, he wasn't sure if he imagined having them with Paive. And he'd never heard Paive talk about having children at all before tonight.

So, Fiyero went to work the next day and thought about Paive and the idea of marrying her. He didn't have any answers by the time he was packing up for the day, but he had decided that perhaps what he needed was to clear his head. And the best place Fiyero knew to clear his head was home, which meant a weekend trip to the Vinkus.

He sent his parents a quick express on Thursday morning to let them know to expect him, and the moment his students were dismissed on Friday afternoon, he was in a carriage bound for his hometown. It wasn't often he came home just for a weekend when school was in session, and he missed his homeland. He'd taken the job in the Emerald City when he'd been offered it, thinking it would be a year and then he'd move back to the Vinkus. But here he was, his third year teaching and quite settled in the city. That was something else to consider- if he and Paive did marry, would she even consider moving to the Vinkus? He doubted it. Would Fiyero be happy living in the Emerald City? Yes. But it wasn't home. And when he thought about where he'd raise his future family, it was always the Vinkus.

This was the first time he'd been home since Lurlinemas four months ago, and as the landscape became more familiar, Fiyero's soul eased. There truly was no place like home.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," his father greeted him at the door when he arrived at the house.

"Hi, Dad," Fiyero said, hugging him warmly. "Hope you and Mom didn't have plans this weekend."

"I've got a pile of essays to mark, but I'm quite happy to procrastinate that," his father laughed.

Fiyero was forever thankful he'd chosen to teach small children instead of older kids. His father was a highly respected law professor at the University of the Vinkus, and his mother taught high-school English and was head of the faculty. Fiyero would much rather explain to kids how blue and red make purple than deal with the headache of teenagers.

"Where's Mom?" Fiyero asked, once he'd put his bag in the guest room.

"She got held up at work," his father explained. "They've got a new hire and welcome drinks were scheduled for tonight before we got your message. Mom didn't think you'd mind if she still went."

"Nope," Fiyero shook his head.

"Hungry?"

"Always," Fiyero grinned.

Fiyero appreciated that his father at least waited until they'd finished eating before he sat back in his chair and looked at him.

"So, what brings you home, Yero?"

Fiyero smiled knowingly as he fiddled with his empty glass. "Paive… kind of gave me an ultimatum."

Ibrahim's eyebrow shot up. "An ultimatum?" he repeated.

Fiyero nodded. "Either we break up… or we get married."

"Ah," Ibrahim said slowly. He paused for a moment, and then got up from the table, picking up his empty plate.

Fiyero did the same, following him into the kitchen.

"You've been together for a while now," his father noted, filling the sink.

"Two years, and a bit," Fiyero confirmed, leaning back against the counter and crossing his legs at the ankles.

"Do you love her?"

"Well, yeah."

Ibrahim looked over his shoulder. "Do you want to marry her?"

Fiyero faltered. That's what it came down to, didn't it?

"I… don't know," Fiyero admitted.

Ibrahim clicked his tongue lightly. "When it comes to marriage, son, that's not quite good enough."

Fiyero had suspected as much, but he didn't really want to admit it.

"Okay, but… how do I know if I want to marry her?" Fiyero asked. "How did you know you wanted to marry Mom?"

He knew his father's answer before he said it.

"I just knew, Yero."

Fiyero sighed. "Dad, that is supremely unhelpful," he informed him.

Ibrahim laughed, beginning to wash the dishes. "I'm sorry, son. I don't know what to tell you. It was just a gut feeling."

"But what if we end it, and then a few months from now I realise that I do want to marry her?" Fiyero pressed.

"Fiyero, it's been two years. 'And a bit' to quote yourself. What's holding you back from proposing?"

Fiyero paused, taking a dishcloth to dry the dishes as his father washed them. "I just thought I'd know," he admitted. "Like you always said. And like Grandpa used to say."

"Trust your gut, Yero," Ibrahim urged him quietly. "If you're not all in after two years, the odds of you suddenly being so are slim."

"But what if-?"

"Yero. I know you love her. And Paive is a lovely girl- your mother and I would be thrillified if she became our daughter-in-law. But if you aren't thrillified at the idea of being her husband, father to her children; that isn't fair to either of you. 'I don't know' is often what we say when we know the answer, we just don't like it."

And that hit hard.

Fiyero actually put down the plate he'd been drying, sagging against the counter.

"Yeah," he said, a little dazedly.

Decision made then.

Ibrahim took the dishcloth from him to dry his hands, and then patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Trust your gut, Yero," he said gently.

When his mother came home an hour later, Fiyero was slumped on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as his father graded essays.

"Hello, sweetheart," she greeted him, bending down to kiss the top of his head. "What brings you home this weekend?"

Fiyero had to smile slightly at how in sync his parents were. "Paive and I are breaking up," he informed her.

Kasmira stilled, shooting a glance over towards her husband. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, taking a seat beside him on the couch. "What happened?"

Fiyero shrugged. "She wants to either get married or break up. And I can't- I can't marry her," he said honestly.

Kasmira took a breath and exhaled slowly. "Well, I know it's not easy, but I'm proud of you for doing the hard thing," she said. "I know you love her. Are you alright?"

And weirdly, he was. He was sad, but the decision to break up sat with him much more easily than the idea of marrying Paive did.

"I think so."

Kasmira regarded him suspiciously, clearly not believing him. Fiyero straightened up, eager to deflect her concern.

"Anyway, how are you?" he asked. "Dad says you've got a new hire? Now- in April?"

"She wasn't supposed to start until the fall, but Ksanthe had to start her maternity leave early," she explained. "Thankfully, we managed to work it out."

Then she perked up, turning to him. "The school play is on tomorrow night. Your father and I have a spare ticket, you should come," she urged him.

Fiyero didn't really want to go, but he felt bad that he'd crashed his parents' weekend without much notice; and if he didn't go, it was likely his parents would feel the need to change their plans to entertain him, and he didn't want that either.

"Well, okay, but I didn't pack my suit," he joked.

Kasmira laughed. "I think they'll still let you in," she smiled.

Fiyero ended up laundering the clothes he'd worn to work that day to wear to the play. It was the most presentable thing he'd packed, and he didn't feel like buying a new outfit just to watch a bunch of teenagers pretend to be a wicked witch.

He had to admit though, the play wasn't bad. Either the kids at his mother's school were very talented; or Fiyero's standards were greatly lowered after three years of watching kindergartens twirl around the stage pretending to be mushrooms or trees in the drama productions at his own school.

At intermission, he and his mother went get a drink while his father was immediately swept into a conversation with the man next to them about the play- apparently his daughter was playing the lead.

"Who is that?" Fiyero asked his mother as they stepped into the aisle. "Am I supposed to know him?"

Kasmira laughed. "Oh, Yero. You should know by now, your father doesn't need to know a person to have a conversation with them."

They had only just picked up their drinks when some of his mother's colleagues found them. His mother introduced them to Fiyero; although he seemed to be at a disadvantage because they already knew exactly who he was. Fiyero knew some of his parents' colleagues, and knew the names of most others through their stories; but the amount of knowledge they seemed to have of him made him suspicious.

"Mom, what exactly are you telling your colleagues?" he asked her lowly.

Kasmira laughed, and patted his shoulder. "There's a cake stall over there to raise money for the Drama department," she pointed across the room. "Why don't you go get something? I'll be over in a minute. And get something for Dad- I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

Fiyero rolled his eyes but took the dismissal for what it was, heading over to the tables laden with baked goods, joining the end of the line. As he waited for his turn, his gaze moved absently over the crowd when suddenly he did a double take, a flash of green passing into his peripheral vision.

Blinking, Fiyero turned slightly and craned his head, a little concerned he was seeing things. But nope, there she was. A woman, tall and slim with dark hair pulled back from her face and a black dress, standing across the foyer and talking to a man that Fiyero was fairly sure was the principal of the school.

The first thing Fiyero really registered was that the green he'd spotted had been her skin. Definishly unusual. The second thing he registered was that she was quite beautiful.

Her, said a voice in his head, clear as a bell. Well, there's your wife. That's the woman you're going to marry.

Fiyero blinked again, and shook his head a little dazedly. That was a ridiculous thought. Ludicrous. He'd never seen this woman before in his life. That was something that happened in romance novels and plays. Not in reality.

"Did you find something?" his mother asked, appearing at his side.

Fiyero jumped, turning back to her. "I think I spotted something with nuts," he offered. "I figured Dad would like that."

"He would," Kasmira agreed.

"Hey, Mom," Fiyero said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. "Who's that woman over there? With the green skin?"

Kasmira's face brightened. "Oh, that's Elphaba. She's our new hire- the one we had drinks for last night."

Elphaba.

Fiyero struggled for a moment, not sure how to ask the obvious question in a polite way. "She's green?" was what finally came out.

Kasmira glanced at him amusedly. "Well spotted, dear."

Fiyero rolled his eyes. "No, I just mean…"

He trailed off. 'Why?' seemed insensitive, and the last thing he wanted to do was sound like one of his students.

She chuckled. "I don't know, Yero. I haven't asked why, it didn't seem polite. But it hardly makes a difference if she can do her job, does it?"

"True," Fiyero allowed. "I- sorry. Just curious. I can't say I've ever seen anyone with green skin before."

The line moved forward and Fiyero lost sight of the woman- of Elphaba- and he tried to subtly find ways to put her back in his eye line. The few glimpses he managed to grasp just reiterated to him that he had currently fallen into some kind of fictional universe where the rules of reality did not apply. Because there was no way, twenty-four hours after deciding to break up with his girlfriend, that he could be so certain that he was going to marry a girl that hadn't so much as looked his way. It was utterly insane.

Yet he kept looking at her. So much so that he didn't even notice when it was his turn at the cake table and his mother had to prod him.

"Yero, what are you getting?" she asked pointedly.

Fiyero stared at the cakes and baked goods on offer without even really seeing them. "That one," he said blindly, pointing to a platter of cupcakes with green frosting.

"Here you go, Miss," the boy behind the table said, handing the goods over.

"Thanks, Ase," Kasmira smiled at him. "Have a good night."

Fiyero almost fumbled the cupcake and napkin that his mother handed him in his effort to not lose sight of Elphaba, thankfully only getting a smear of frosting on his thumb instead of his clothes. By the time he'd managed to not drop the cupcake either on the ground or himself, Elphaba had disappeared.

"Let's get back to our seats before the second act," his mother said, urging him along.

Fiyero followed dazedly, still scanning the crowd. His heart pounded in his chest, completely irrational. After all, she'd have to be somewhere in the auditorium, right? She couldn't leave the show at intermission (it wasn't that bad).

"How big is this place?" he asked his mother as they made their way along the row back to their seats. "Like, how many people are here do you think?"

"I think it's about seven or eight hundred," Kasmira answered, smiling in apology at two men as they moved their feet out of the way for them to pass. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Fiyero lied.

They took their seats, and Fiyero went back to trying to discreetly look behind him as the crowd slowly trickled in from the foyer, again looking for that tell-tale green.

"Fiyero are you alright?" Ibrahim asked, leaning over towards him. "Who are you looking for?"

"No one," Fiyero said hastily, turning around. "Just seeing if I recognise anyone."

His father gave him an odd look. "Eat your cupcake," he finally said, and then turned back to Kasmira.

Fiyero obeyed, unwilling to turn around again and was so reduced to hoping that wherever Elphaba was sitting, it was in front of them, so that she would have to walk past his eyeline.

The auditorium was getting quite full and he was beginning to get nervous when he finally spotted her again. She was still with the principal and another man, seated several rows in front of Fiyero; and as he and Kasmira had done, were forced to apologetically stumble past the people already seated in their row to get to their seats. Fiyero watched as she made her way along the row carefully.

And then she paused to allow a group of people to shuffle their legs and belongings out of the way. And as she waited, her head rose and absently scanned the room.

And by some miracle of miracles, she locked eyes with Fiyero in that moment.

Fiyero inhaled quietly, even though at this distance, he couldn't really do much more than note that her eyes were large and dark and that she was indeed, both very green and very beautiful. His heart jolted painfully as her gaze fixed on him and in a moment of panic as he realised that he was kind of staring and probably being quite rude, smiled.

He saw her eyes flicker away for a beat before she smiled ever so slightly back, and then she looked away to continue on to her seat. Fiyero glanced over in that direction, saw his parents talking quietly together and realised that she must have recognised his mother. And hopefully assumed that he wasn't being weird by looking at her. He hoped.

Once the show resumed, Fiyero couldn't look at Elphaba anymore than stare at the silhouette of the back of her head that he was ninety percent sure was hers. Nonetheless, that was what he did. It couldn't be said that he took in anything of the second act. However, he felt he could write an essay on the way her head tilted back and up as she laughed in the funny moments; and the way her head tilted softly to the left in some scenes, like she was watching thoughtfully.

"I want to wait until the students come out to congratulate them," Kasmira told them after the curtain call, as people around them started to collect their belongings and get to their feet. "I promised some of them I would. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Ibrahim replied. "We don't mind, do we Yero?"

"Nope," Fiyero replied distantly.

The foyer seemed even more crowded than it had at intermission now, but it did seem that most people were making their way outside. The parents who had children in the cast were obvious from a mile away, at least to Fiyero. While his parents waited for the students from the cast to come out and join their families in the foyer, Fiyero was back to scanning the crowd. There was no sign of green, and his heart sank. She must have left.

"I'm going to get some hot chocolate," he told his parents, gesturing to where tea, coffee and hot chocolate were available. "Anyone want anything?"

"I'll wait until we get home," his father refused, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, thank you sweetheart," his mother added with a smile.

Fiyero nodded in acknowledgement and made his way across the room, rather despondiary. Why, he wasn't sure. He literally knew nothing about this woman other than her name, her occupation and that she had green skin. But he burned with the need to know everything about her, and he couldn't explain why. The idea that he'd missed his chance to meet her and she would be reduced to another name he heard fall from his mother's tongue when she talked about work, he couldn't describe the feeling that invoked in him by any other word than envy. Not even envy, but jealousy. And Fiyero didn't do jealous.

He collected his cup of hot chocolate and moved across to the large canister of sugar cubes on offer. Just as he reached for it, another hand did too and brushed against his. Fiyero apologised automatically before his brain registered that the hand was green, and then he froze mid-sentence.

"No, I'm sorry," said a smooth, rather lilted voice, which immediately drew Fiyero's gaze.

Elphaba was standing right next to him, cup in hand, her other still drawn back from the sugar. And she was looking right at him. Fiyero's mouth went dry and it took him a moment too long to realise that words were required here.

Oz, you used to be smoother than this," he scolded himself. What happened?

Fiyero ignored that, cleared his throat and smiled at her. "No, please. Ladies first," he said gesturing towards the sugar.

Elphaba smiled politely, nodded and reached for the sugar again. Once she had taken a cube and dropped it into her drink- tea, he thought it was- she stepped aside. Fiyero reached out and took four sugar cubes for himself, stirring them into the hot chocolate absent-mindedly before he realised that Elphaba was still standing there, watching him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Four sugars?"

Fiyero grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I'm sweet enough to not need any, right?" he said with a quick wink and was inordinately pleased to see her cheeks pinken slightly even as she snorted.

"I'm Fiyero Tiggular," he introduced himself, offering her his hand.

Recognition flickered across her face. "Right. You're-"

"Kasmira's son, yes."

"Elphaba Thropp," she replied, shaking his hand. "I've just started."

"Yeah, I think Mom mentioned something about that," Fiyero said casually. "You know, welcome drinks last night and all. Is this your first teaching job?"

"Other than some substitute teaching, yes," she nodded. "I was expecting to have a little more time to get settled, but…"

"Mom said that too," Fiyero nodded. "How are you liking it so far? The kids being nice to you?"

Elphaba shrugged. "They're teenagers," she said. "But I found once I start the lesson by addressing the elephant in the room, it gets a little easier."

Fiyero raised an eyebrow questioningly and she shrugged, gesturing to herself. "Dispelling all the rumours around the school. I'm not seasick, never ate grass as a child, et cetera."

Fiyero grinned. "Ah."

"Honestly, once they find out the truth- that I was just born this way and no one knows why- they get quite bored."

Fiyero laughed at that. "You're not from the Vinkus, are you?"

"Munchkinland," she offered. "I think your mother mentioned that you're also a teacher?"

"Kindergarten," he grinned. "In the Emerald City."

Elphaba's face lit up and it was like a fresh blow to Fiyero's chest, captivating him anew.

"Oh, I love the Emerald City," she gushed. "It's my favourite place in Oz. Where abouts in the city are you?"

Fiyero was more than happy to talk about the Emerald City, and about the school he worked at and his students. From there he asked her about Munchkinland. Elphaba didn't have much to offer on that subject, but he did learn that she had a father and a recently married sister back home before she asked him about the Vinkus. Fiyero had dozens of suggestions and tips to offer her about things she had to see and where to find things that he deemed necessary.

"You've probably been told about bookstores already, if you're teaching English," he said. "Let me guess, Roe's?"

"It has been mentioned a few times," she nodded.

Fiyero shook his head. "Not the best bookstore in town."

Elphaba arched an eyebrow. "Oh? How do you know what I'd consider a good bookstore?"

Fiyero grinned. "Call it a hunch."

Elphaba surveyed him for a moment, and then nodded, a little wary. "Alright. Hit me. Where's the best bookstore?"

"For you? Once. On the corner of Wirk and Third. Trust me," he swore.

Elphaba looked him over once more and then nodded. "Alright," she agreed. "I'll check it out."

The conversation flowed so rapidly between them that Fiyero had almost forgotten where they were until his parents appeared at his side.

"Yero?"

Fiyero startled slightly, turning to face them. "Oh, hi," he said. "I, er- I met Elphaba," he said lamely.

His mother looked rather amused. "I see that," she said dryly, smiling at Elphaba. "Hi Elphaba. Did you enjoy the show?"

"It was a lot of fun," Elphaba replied, and Fiyero couldn't tell if she was being diplomatic or if she really meant it.

"This is my husband, Ibrahim," Kasmira introduced them. "Dear, this is Elphaba, our latest hire in the faculty. And clearly, you've met my son."

Elphaba ducked her head slightly and Fiyero's heart gave a hopeful lurch in his chest.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Hi Elphaba, welcome to the Vinkus," Ibrahim said, shaking her hand.

"Thank you," Elphaba replied.

Kasmira looked back at Fiyero. "Sorry to interrupt dear, but we're ready to leave if you are."

Honestly, no. Fiyero wasn't ready to leave. He wanted to stand in this spot in the foyer talking to Elphaba forever.

But as he looked around, he saw that most people had gone and things were being packed up.

"Oh, right," he said, sneaking a glance at his watch.

They'd been talking for over an hour- no wonder his parents were ready to leave.

Reluctantly, he turned back to Elphaba. "It was really nice to meet you," he said.

"You too," she said. "Thanks for the tips."

"You're welcome. Don't let my mom terrorise you," he joked

Kasmira rolled her eyes. "Thank you for that, Fiyero. I'll see you on Monday, Elphaba."

"Absolutely," Elphaba agreed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Fiyero echoed, and reluctantly turned away.

"You and Elphaba were talking for quite a while," Kasmira noted when they were in the carriage, headed for home.

"Yeah. She's nice," was all Fiyero dared to let himself say.

Because what was the alternative? The truth?

Hey, Mom. I'm going to marry her.

It sounded insane, and he was sure his mother wouldn't believe him.

But he just knew.