This should make you guys happy. :)

It was a warm day. Galinda was waving a lace fan at herself while gossiping away about this person or that. Fiyero, practiced at filling the moments while she took breaths with interested noises or encouraging statements, only half listened; instead, he munched contentedly on the fruit from the large platter they ordered and watched the plaza bustle about with people living their separate lives.

Galinda, as always, looked truly beautiful in her flowery sundress, and Fiyero knew he was just as fetching in his white pants and short-sleeved peach-colored shirt. Even dressed so casually, they managed to receive constant compliments from passerbys as they lounged together at Galinda's favorite restaurant outside of Railway Square for their weekly tea date.

Despite his lack of attention, Fiyero truly enjoyed his time with Galinda if only it was because it was effortless. Maybe it was the years of experience with her or maybe because of how compatible they were, but he could relax when it was just the two of them. Easy, flawless system: One: put on a happy face; two: be charming; and three: have a nice time. It came so naturally to him. To both of them.

Still, he knew to be wary, and he kept an eye out for signs that she might be growing tired of waiting for him to make the first move and to take matters into her own hands. He had an engagement in his past that proved she'd be willing to do just that.

He admired Galinda's fortitude. How many times had they heard comments like, "Aren't you two just perfect together?" from strangers at neighboring tables? Or little old ladies moseying past the patio of the teahouse and inquiring how long they'd been a couple? And Galinda always deflected so deftly with, "Aren't you so sweet?" or "We're the dearest of friends," with a never-wavering smile.

He constantly wondered if he were being unfair, but at this point in their friendship it seemed best to not rock the boat with an unkind acknowledgment of unrequited fancy. For all he knew, she might have lost interest in pursuing a relationship after this long of simple companionship.

He glanced across the table as she jabbered with happily dramatic lilts, her fan moving in accordance to the excitement of the topics of which she chose to speak. He had spent the last couple of years – before his paranormal return to Shiz – growing estranged from her; he could not express how glad he was to have her and her frivolities in his life.

Fiyero reached out and absentmindedly picked a black brambleberry from their shared fruit plate and took a distracted bite. The moment the juices hit his taste buds he sat upright, startled by the intensity of the emotions they triggered.

It caught Galinda's attention. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Yeah," Fiyero lied, holding up the uneaten half of the berry in his hand. "Surprising flavor."

"Oh those, whatever they're called," she said, her noise bunching cutely. She waved her fan at the table as if to brush the offending fruit away. "I don't care for them, they're too tart for my liking. And the seeds get stuck in my teeth something dreadful."

"Morus," he informed her thoughtfully, "more commonly known as mulberry. They grow wild in the forests of Munchkinland."

"And how did you come to learn such a peculiar thing?"

"No idea," he lied, popping the rest of the berry in the air and catching with his mouth with a goofy grin, much to her glee.

"Oh! That reminds me of the drollest story of my darlingest popsie…" Galinda started gaily, but Fiyero was already lost in memories of his own.

"Try this."

With the rustle of trees and the endless hum of the forest at dusk, Fiyero hadn't heard her approach, but suddenly Elphaba was kneeling at his side. Between them, she held a dark purple berry between green fingers with eager reticence.

"What is that?" he asked, abandoning his task of clearing their campsite of rocks and twigs to take the fruit from her warily.

She smiled beautifully, sending his heart haywire: her lips curled up softly, shyly, something that was somehow both seemingly uncharacteristic from the powerful, passionate woman in front of him and still so endearingly Elphaba. "Just try it. Go on, you'll like it."

Her eyes shone brightly as she watched him tentatively nibble at the little beads of the fruit, her smile widening with his as little bursts of tangy sweetness lit up on his tongue. "That's amazing."

"I told you you'd like it," she said as she settled to a seat at his side, that bashful smile so sincere he wasn't sure how his chest could handle the love he felt. Her other hand was clutching an overflowing handful of berries against the loose threads of her patchwork dress and she scooped some to share with him. "They're mulberries. Scientifically: Morus, a genus of the Moraceae family."

He laughed, amazed. "Okay Thropp, I know you were a huge bookworm at Shiz, but you've been on the run from the law for years now. How do you possibly know that?"

Grinning, she admitted, "I broke into a bookshop and studied up on various plants."

He chuckled through his last mouthful of juicy fruit. "Of course you did."

"You would too if you had as many run-ins with poisonous plants as I did in the beginning." She was still smiley as she ate her meal one berry at a time, pretending that she couldn't feel the heat of his of his gaze, but her expression seemed littered with a nuance of a million emotions and he couldn't help himself staring: humility, pride, shame, timidity, exhilaration… Oz, she was incredible, he thought with overwhelming conviction. "Even the white mulberry, for instance, is toxic and hallucinogenic if unripe…"

His share of the berries were gone and without them he had no distractions from the mesmerizing creature next to him, as hyper intelligent as she was striking in beauty. As she raised another fruit to her lips he took her hand in his and guided it to his own mouth, her playful objections quickly stifled as he suckled on her berry-stained fingers, her eyes blackening and her breath catching.

It was as though the very air changed around them in that moment, charging with some energy that couldn't be seen but tingled around them.

"You were saying?" he said between sensual kisses of her fingertips, the roughness of his unshaven chin proceeding his lips as he worshipped the emerald skin of her fingers, her palm, the inside of her wrist…

"The, uh, M-morus alba…" To his amusement, she once again lost track of her words. What he could only describe as heat-haze obscured her usual crystal-clear focus; she dropped the rest of the fruit she had clutched to her belly to the forest floor and with unmistakable intention moved herself over him. Her eyes, dark as night, never left his.

Was it really only just yesterday that they stood in that throne room, trying to determine how much the other had changed? Was it only last night that they had truly touched one another for the first time?

"The Morus alba," he repeated playfully as she turned her attention to the buttons at the front of his shirt. "Excuse me, I'm trying to learn here."

With the last button undone, she ran her hands across the blue diamonds that fascinated her so. Smirking, while he sighed appreciatively at her tender touch, she whispered, "So am I."

"Fiyero!"

He snapped to attention as the blonde called his name. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you wanted these mulberries," Galinda asked. Apparently they had picked through their plate enough that the waiter was hovering to see if he could take it from them. A few purple berries rolled around the plate, between uneaten bits of pale melon.

"I do," he said as the waiter took his leave, giving a half-hearted smile, remembering the taste of mulberries on his lover's lips. "I really do."