The girls didn't see each other for the next two weeks. And it wasn't for Glinda's lack of trying. It seemed that Elphaba was trying to avoid her. She would frequently climb those flights of stairs to the library, and then to her office, only to find both empty each time. After the first week, she gave up. Maybe she shouldn't have asked Elphaba to help her stretch. She shouldn't have been holding and touching her like that. It was most improper for two young, unmarried ladies to be in such a position.

Classes, performances, and Ama Clutch kept her busy and distracted. She would go hours without thinking about Elphaba, then remember that she wasn't thinking about her, and start thinking about her again.

Shopping with Ama Clutch was her main distraction. The blonde was in the cobbler's shop, trying on new heels, when a flash of green from outside caught her eye. A flash of green in the Emerald City wasn't uncommon, but this flash felt familiar enough to make her run outside the shop in the shoes, ignoring her Ama's calls.

There she was, walking down the street, each step taking her further and further away from her. She had to call out to her. She had to catch up to her. She had to bring her back. "Elphaba!"

The green woman halted so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet. She turned, her eyes wide as she saw Glinda running across the street to meet her. Her feet rooted to the spot, stopping her from running away. She could only stare as a blur of blonde and pink hurried towards her.

Glinda stopped directly in front of Elphaba, her arms twitching to open for a hug, but she restrained herself. She had already dashed across the street like a mad woman; no need to make herself seem crazier.

"Glinda," Elphaba greeted unsurely, her voice barely above a whisper. She hadn't planned on being spotted.

"Elphaba," Glinda breathed, slightly breathless from her sprint. "Hi."

"Hello."

Hello? That's all she had to say to her after two weeks of avoiding her? She deserved much more than that. Especially considering that Elphaba was the one who initiated their original meeting in the first place. "I haven't seen you in two weeks," she frowned. "I've… missed you."

Elphaba bit her lip. There was that magnetic pull again. "… I've… missed you, too. You sound surprised to see me out in public."

"Yes, well, you're a self-diagnosed privatist."

Elphaba blinked at her, her face a mix of confusion, intrigue, and a hint of amusement. "And the best part is that I can be publicly private. I'm not a recluse. If no one knows who I am, then I can come and go as I please without being spotted and recognized."

Glinda could tell their unexpected meeting wasn't going as she had hoped. Desperate to salvage their reconnection, she made a quick decision. "Shall we shop together?"

"I was almost –"

"Glinda!"

The girls turned as Ama Clutch ran out of the shop, marching up to the couple. "Glinda, what are you doing? You can't run out of a shop without paying like that!"

"Apologies, Ama. I saw Elphaba and had to speak to her." The blonde linked her arm with Elphaba's, ignoring the jolt that shot up her arm. "Ama, this is my friend from the opera house, Elphaba. Elphaba, this is my Ama Clutch."

"The one you were telling me about?"

"Mmhmm."

Elphaba looked between the two women, and politely inclined her head to Ama Clutch. The older woman blinked, only forcing a polite smile when Glinda squeezed her hand.

"Elphaba's going to join us for the rest of our outing," Glinda continued.

Elphaba glanced at her. She hadn't said 'yes'. But she hadn't said 'no', either. Ozdamnit, she should've been quicker. She wasn't actively opposed to spending time with Glinda, but she really did want to get home as soon as possible. "… I can join you."

"Very well. If we continue together, we must return to the shop to pay for those shoes," the middle-aged woman said.

Glinda sheepishly looked down at her footwear and followed Ama Clutch back into the shop, never loosening her grip on Elphaba's arm.

"I won't disappear if you let go," Elphaba said when they finally walked out.

"You disappeared for two weeks," Glinda argued, not releasing her.

"I was busy."

"Glinda tells me you're on the administrative staff at the Opera House," Ama Clutch interjected, unaware of the girls' conversation.

That's what you told her? Elphaba's eyes asked her companion. "Yes, that's correct," she said to Ama Clutch, filing her questions away for later.

"And what exactly do you do?"

"I mostly review the opera house's budget, upkeep, and the season's shows."

"How interesting," Ama Clutch hummed, then directed her attention to a window display of household trinkets. Glinda feigned enough interest to slip away for a bit after, pulling Elphaba behind her until they were out of earshot.

"I'm sorry," the blonde whispered.

Elphaba frowned. "For what?"

"That day in the studio. That's why you've been avoiding me, isn't it?"

Yes. "No. It's not that. I've just been very busy and –"

"And you're a terrible liar, you mean green thing."

She wanted to tell her the truth. She wanted to tell the blonde about how she made her feel. But standing in front of a bakery wasn't the best place for this private conversation. "Alright, it was that day, but not in the way you think. I'm not offended or uncomfortable. Well, maybe a bit uncomfortable and unsure and –"

"Shall we get a treat?" Ama Clutch asked, thinking the girls were standing in front of the bakery because they were hungry.

Elphaba took a small step back and nodded. "A snack would be nice."

Ama Clutch nodded and held the door open for them. Elphaba led Glinda inside, ordering two slices of chocolate plum cake for them. The blonde allowed her friend to purchase the treat, taking it as her official apology, all while looking at their still-joint hands.

Rehearsals for the new opera 'Li Huteoa' started during the day, which meant all departments were on their toes. The singers and orchestra were learning the music, the dancers were learning the choreography, and the costume designers were pulling old pieces to turn them into new outfits.

It was now Glinda's turn to be too busy to seek Elphaba out. But Elphaba didn't wait as long as her. After only three days, Glinda received a note to come up to Elphaba's office.

"You summoned me?" Glinda asked as soon as she crossed the threshold.

Elphaba bristled for reasons unknown to the blonde. "You deserve a full explanation," she said. "About that day."

She waited expectantly. "Yes?"

"And another apology." She stood, her hands resting against her stomach as she came around her desk. "That moment in the studio… being that close to you… frightened me. Not like that," she quickly amended when she saw Glinda's face fall. "It frightened me because I… liked it." She bit her lip. "And I assumed –"

"You assumed I didn't feel the same way?" She relaxed and bridged the gap. "Why?"

"Because it was starting to feel unnatural. Not bad, just… unnatural."

"You felt that jolt, too?"

Elphaba said nothing, just stared at her. Glinda reached out and took Elphaba's timid hand. The sudden jolt shot up both their arms, and Glinda could've sworn she felt Elphaba gently squeeze her hand.

"I don't want to hurt you," the green woman whispered.

"I'm stronger than I look."

The reiteration of their exchange in the studio eased Elphaba's tension, and she gave the blonde a small smile. "I take it this means I don't have to apologize?"

"You're forgiven for the miscommunication, not for avoiding me."

"Then I suppose I, as a good friend, should make it up to you."

"Then I suppose I, as a good friend, will let you."

…

Glinda dragged her feet up the stairs to Elphaba's office. She was so exhausted from the pas de deux class that she didn't even change her clothes. Even though she was improving, she could tell she still had a long way to go. She had put in some extra training hours, and knew that her tiredness was a sign of her progress, and that she progressed more when she was tired.

Elphaba looked up when she heard footsteps and smiled at her friend. "How was class?"

"Humbling." She collapsed onto the sofa and unceremoniously dropped her dance bag. "My pointe shoes are beyond dead, and I haven't had time to break in a new pair. My feet are killing me." She closed her eyes, hearing Elphaba rise from her seat and walk across the room. "My back aches, I'm hot and hungry, and the worst of it is, I'm not even done for today." She didn't get a response and she frowned, keeping her eyes closed. "Elphaba, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," Elphaba said from the doorway, followed by a soft sloshing sound.

Glinda slowly opened her eyes to see Elphaba carefully carrying a water basin over to her, her hands covered with thick, rubber gloves, and a towel draped over her shoulder. She set the basin down and gently pulled Glinda to a sit. She wordlessly knelt and began to slowly untie her pointe shoe ribbons.

Glinda winced when Elphaba removed her shoes and toe pads. As a dancer, she didn't have the most beautiful feet, and was very self-conscious about it. She took care of her body and always took precautions to avoid long-term injuries, but the callouses, blisters, and bruises made her so self-conscious that not even her fellow dancers saw her feet.

But she didn't mind Elphaba seeing her feet. The green woman didn't seem repulsed by their appearance, probably because she was used to being judged based on looks.

As tough and hardened as they were, her feet were also sensitive. Stubbing her toe would cause pain like being smashed with a hammer, and if her shoes weren't on perfectly, she'd be in pain for hours. And the shoe fabric wasn't the most breathable material, so her feet probably didn't smell the greatest.

The green woman was gentle as she removed her shoes and placed her feet in the basin. The warm water provided immediate relief and the blonde sighed, sinking back against the couch pillows. She wiggled her toes, the relaxation and pain relief immediately overtaking the stiffness and soreness.

Once Glinda's feet were soaking, Elphaba went over to her desk and reached into her bottom drawer. She grabbed a small bottle of a dark yellow liquid and resumed her position of kneeling at Glinda's feet. She opened the bottle and poured some of the liquid into the basin.

The sudden, strong scent hit Glinda and she wrinkled her nose. It smelt of lemon, with hints of sweet earthiness. It smelt good. She sniffed again, the scent not as strong now that she was used to it.

"Lemongrass," Elphaba explained, mixing it into the water. She pushed herself up and dried her gloves on the towel before carefully removing them. "Better?"

"Much. Thank you." She patted the spot next to her, and Elphaba sat, slanting her legs away from the basin. "Gloves?"

Elphaba struggled briefly with herself, then sighed. "I… have a severe sensitivity to water. It burns my skin."

"Oh." So Elphaba had risked burns in order to give her a few moments of relaxation and relief? How good of her. She rested her head against her shoulder, watching her toes play in the water, now mindful not to splash. When the water cooled, Elphaba put on her gloves before gently taking her feet from the water, drying them, and propping them up on the sofa pillows. She left to put the basin and towel away, and when she returned, she sat next to Glinda and lifted her feet onto her lap.

"May I?" the green girl asked.

Glinda nodded and pushed herself onto her elbows, but relaxed when Elphaba started massaging her feet. The sensation took a moment to get used to. She never allowed anyone to touch her bare feet.

But she didn't mind Elphaba touching her bare feet.

They hadn't said more than a handful of words to each other the entire time, but so much was communicated nonverbally during their innocent intimacy. Elphaba's hands were strong, yet tender, against Glinda's coarse feet. These touches were so different than that time in the studio. She slowly worked her way up her calf, stopping right below her knees, before going back down and up her other leg.

"Thank you, Elphaba," Glinda smiled when Elphaba finished, pushing herself up again. Her feet looked less inflamed and felt lighter. "That felt amazing."

"My younger sister used to get leg cramps frequently. I was the only one who knew how to soothe her. But… you're welcome."

Glinda glanced up at the clock. She still had a few more minutes before she had to head back down. She wondered how many more secrets she could squeeze out of Elphaba in that time. "Was she a dancer, too?"

"No. She can't dance."

She hummed. "You said you and your mother would come here often. Was she a dancer?"

"She wanted to be a dancer, but her parents wouldn't allow it. Frequenting the opera house was the only way she could keep her dreams alive."

"Do you like dancing?"

"I own the opera house."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I enjoy watching you dance."

"That still doesn't answer my question, Elphaba."

"I am not a dancer. I told you that I didn't picture myself here."

She grabbed her hand and started playing with her fingers. "What would you be doing, if you weren't here?"

Elphaba thought for a moment. "Exactly what everyone else expected of me."

Glinda hooked her pinky with hers. "Me, too." The clock chimed and she sighed. "I must go back downstairs now. Thank you for the foot massage." She squeezed her hand and stood, slipping into her ballet flats so she didn't have to walk in her pointes.

Elphaba walked her to the door. "Am I fully forgiven?"

Glinda turned, stood on her toes, and wrapped her arms around Elphaba's neck. "Yes."

That evening, after a long day, Elphaba wanted nothing more than to relax. The current production was closing in two weeks, and they would only have a week to set up for 'Li Huteoa'. The changeover period was always stressful, and Elphaba knew they would get it done successfully – as they always did – but it was a lot of paperwork, contracts, and checking over everything.

She unlocked her door with a loud sigh. "There's no place like home," she muttered to herself.

"You've finally returned."

The green woman's relieved sigh morphed into a gasped shriek. She could only stare in disbelief at the person sitting in the center of her living room. "What are you doing here, Nessa?"

The brunette sat erect in her wheelchair, her hair in a low, neat bun. She was still wearing her lightweight traveling cloak, and stared at her sister with stern, narrowed eyes. "We must speak."