I saw the Wicked Movie Saturday night and it was one of the most beautifully magical movies I've ever seen. I already have plans to see it again!

Glinda raced down the streets, catching herself right before she landed on her face from tripping over a large crack. But she couldn't stop. Even if she wanted to, she felt physically unable to stop; or at the very least, slow down.

She wasn't breathing, yet she was out of breath. She barreled through the doors of Saint Dilmound's Hospital, ignoring all the stares accompanying her frazzled appearance, and stumbled towards the front desk.

"I need to see Genniey Clutch!" she demanded of the nurse, gasping for air as she slammed her hand on the desk.

"Are you immediate family, miss?" the nurse said calmly, and without looking up, clearly used to being yelled at by frantic strangers.

"Yes. I'm… I'm her niece."

"I'm sorry, that's not immediate enough."

"I'm her only family in the city. She raised me." She could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off, and knew that if she didn't sit down soon, she might also become a patient. "Please, Nurse. Please."

The nurse looked up, a look of pity briefly crossing her face. "Nurse Zannon, please escort this young lady to the North-East wing."

An older-looking woman came out from behind a curtain and took Glinda's arm. "This way, dear." She gently pulled Glinda along, and Glinda lost all sense of direction as she blindly followed.

Her mouth was dry, and the hospital air seemed to suck the last bit of moisture from her throat. She wheezed, willing her lungs to inhale now that she had stopped running. She was so tired that her body confused remedies. Instead of producing more saliva to coat her mouth, her eyes watered, coating her cheeks with unnecessary, salty moisture.

"Wait here, Miss," Nurse Zannon said, sitting Glinda in a hard, wooden chair in a long hallway. She disappeared around the corner, and Glinda never saw her again.

Now that she was seated and slightly calmer, she could gather her thoughts. She had just returned home from a wonderful weekend with Elphaba, eager to recapitulate her adventures to her minder in hopes of raising her spirits, only to find out that she had fallen down the stairs the day prior and broken her foot. That's what Henv said, but she admittingly didn't allow him to say much else, for she was already out the door.

"Miss Upland."

She looked up as a tall man in a vested outfit approached and weakly pushed herself to her feet, steadying herself on the wall. "Yes?" Oz, her voice felt and sounded raw.

"I am Dr. Moures. I understand you are here regarding your aunt, Genniey Clutch."

"Yes. Is she alright? Can I see her?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot permit you to see her."

"Why not? My butler said she just broke her foot."

"Miss Upland, your aunt is currently under quarantine."

"What?"

"She fell down the stairs due to dehydration caused by Rasping Fever."

Glinda blinked at him, then flopped back into her seat. "But… no. She just had a simple cold. Some sniffles and a slight cough… and the occasional sneeze. Not… Rasping Fever."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Upland."

"What are you… when will she be well enough for me to see her?"

"I'm afraid I cannot predict that. She's in critical condition. She mostly sleeps, but for the short increments where she's awake, she's delirious."

Glinda couldn't begin to try and process all that. Her beloved Ama Clutch, her minder, her surrogate mother, stuck in isolation. All because she wanted to go to Munchkinland with Elphaba. Had she been here, she could've helped her Ama; nurse her back to health the way she did whenever Glinda had the sniffles. She never gallivanted off with a young lover to a different providence when Glinda needed her. And this is how she repaid the favor?

"I will send all updates to you," the doctor continued. "You have my word we will do everything in our power to save your aunt."

Glinda could only nod, not fully hearing him. She felt him take her arm and help her up, escorting her back the way the nurse led her.

"Nurse Signa, please have one of the porters call a cab for Miss Upland," Dr. Moures said, dropping Glinda off at the front desk.

The rest of the hour was an unmemorable blur. When Glinda finally came out of her stupor, she was on her bed, her face buried in her pillows. She turned and rubbed her face. Her eyes felt damp and sore, evidence that she had cried herself to sleep. She pushed herself up, blew her frizzy hair from her face, and checked the time. She had slept for almost five hours. If she was going to perform tonight, she had thirty minutes to get to the theater.

She didn't know if she had the focus to be onstage that night. She had just received bombshell news, and would benefit from another night off, but if she didn't have something else to occupy her mind, she'd make herself worse. But her performance would suffer if she used it as a distraction.

She had to decide quickly. She sat up on her bed and took a few deep breaths. Once she felt stable enough, she got up, changed her clothes, grabbed her dance bag, and called for Henv to call her coach.

Being onstage helped. Being in class helped. Dancing was therapeutic, and a sweeter-tasting medicine than the alternative.

She had gone to the hospital every day for the past three days, and each time she went, she left empty-handed, with no update on her Ama. She didn't know if no news was good or bad, but it didn't matter. She told herself it didn't matter in order to keep herself going.

This new development caused a pause in her daily visits with Elphaba. She was kind of glad for their distance. She needed the alone time, and while she knew Elphaba would support her however she wanted, she didn't quite want her support.

She didn't want her closeness, her hugs, or her kisses. She didn't know why, because she loved those things, but she couldn't place her finger on this sudden, new need to not have them.

She just wanted to be alone. And if she couldn't be alone, she wanted to be onstage where the blinding lights blocked her view of everything that wasn't within eight feet in front of her.

She was surprised to see Dr. Moures waiting in front of her townhouse when she got home after a one-show matinee day.

"Miss Upland," the doctor greeted.

"Dr. Moures." She quickened her pace. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I've just come to tell you that there's been a development in –"

"Is my aunt alright?"

"I'm sorry, but there has been no change in your aunt's condition. But Miss Upland, there appears to be a small outbreak of the Rasping Fever, and all residences of those infected must be evacuated."

"Evacuated?"

"For medical fumigation. It's all part of the newly developed government-sanctioned health regulations. We're doing all we can to contain the virus. Since it appears you are not sick, I am not recommending a quarantine period for you, but I urge you to be mindful of your health, and to come in if you start feeling any symptoms."

"But –"

"All residences must be evacuated by eight o'clock tonight. Rooms in the Oz One Hotel have been made available to all affected, free of charge. Fumigation starts tomorrow morning and will take approximately seventy-two hours, so you should be able to return in four days."

"Very well," Glinda said. "I shall inform my staff and we will leave."

"Thank you, Miss Upland. I will redirect all my correspondence to the hotel if you cannot make it to the hospital."

"Thank you, Doctor." She nodded, allowing him to leave to inform his next house.

Glinda hurried inside and pulled her trunk from the large closet. She threw her clothes in, not bothering to fold them, and not caring that they'll be wrinkled later. She packed enough clothes for a week, her anger and fear not clouding her judgment past the point of reasonable.

Harv and the cook were already packed, and they said they would see to the rest of the house. Glinda asked her driver to drop her off at the opera house before bringing her trunk and valise to the hotel. She needed to release right now.

Glinda was glad the auditorium was empty. She stood alone, center stage, and took a deep breath. There was no music, but she danced. There wasn't much rhyme or reason to her choreography, but she danced. She wasn't as graceful as she could've been, but she danced.

"Glinda!"

The sharp voice startled her out of her fouettés, and she fell to the ground, grunting when her side collided with the cold Marley floor. She blinked to clear her dizziness, and she looked up with a frown. "Elphaba, don't do that! I could've gotten hurt!"

"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't been avoiding and ignoring me for the past three days," the green woman frowned, crossing the stage. She stood over the blonde for a moment before extending her hand.

Glinda ignored the help and pushed herself to her feet. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my opera house."

"Why are you here?"

"I finished my work for today. Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't."

"Yes, you have. I sent you notes, all of which you never responded to."

"I never got them." It wasn't a total lie. She did see Elphaba's notes. She just never read them.

"I know that's a lie."

"I planned on being alone right now. I must get back to practicing, and you're disturbing me."

"You need to answer me."

"I don't need to answer you, Elphaba. I don't owe you an answer!"

Elphaba bristled, then her face darkened. "What is going on, Glinda? You've been distant, and moodified, and it's worrying me."

"Maybe you should focus on other things rather than being so obsessed with me that you bother me when I'm suddenly not at your beck and call." She straightened her leotard. "I'm done practicing." She turned, but before she took a step, Elphaba grabbed her wrist.

"Glinda, wait!"

"Let go of me!"

"Why won't you tell me what's bothering you? Why are you keeping secrets from me?"

She huffed out a humorless laugh. "You want to talk about secrets? That's rich, considering you're the Queen of Keeping Secrets. I used to think your air of mystery was part of your charm, but now I see that it was clearly one-sided." She violently jerked out of Elphaba's grasp, and would've twisted her wrist if Elphaba hadn't let go. "Now, are you going to mind your own business, or shall I have to give you a piece of my mind?"

"Oh, I couldn't take the last piece," Elphaba snarled.

Glinda's eyes widened and quickly welled with tears. A choked sob and she collapsed, her knees banging against the Marley as a wail broke free from her throat. Elphaba blinked at the blonde, surprised at how rapidly her anger turned to sorrow. She quickly recovered, knelt in front of her, and scooped her into her arms.

"Was it Munchkinland? Did my sister say something to upset you?" Elphaba asked, though she wasn't sure Glinda heard her over her sobbing. She rubbed circles on Glinda's back, gently rocking her to try and calm her down enough to understand her. "What did Nessarose say to you?"

"N-Nothing," Glinda hiccupped. "It's not her. It's n-not… Munchkinland."

"Okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm… I'm sorry." She pulled Glinda closer, nuzzling her cheek against her hair. "I'm so sorry."

It took a moment, but Glinda calmed in Elphaba's embrace. Once her sobs turned into the occasional sniffle and cough, she looked up at Elphaba. "I…"

"Wait. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry for pushing you. I'll just… hold you… if that's what you want. I'll do whatever you want."

"Okay," Glinda sniffed, snuggling closer to her.

"Do you want to go up to my office?"

"No."

"Okay."

"… Ama Clutch is sick. She was sick before I left with you. It was just sniffles and coughs. She told me to go and have fun. When I came back, she was in the hospital."

"You went to the hospital after I dropped you off?"

"I ran, actually."

Elphaba rubbed her arm, wishing she had walked her inside.

"She was so weak, she fell down the stairs and broke her foot. She has Rasping Fever, and she's been quarantined. And it's all my fault."

"What? No, Glinda, it's not –"

"I wanted to go away with you so badly. I knew she was sick, and she told me to go and have a good time, but I should've stayed and helped her. Oz, I'm so selfish."

"Glinda, look at me." She took her chin and gently guided her face up, waiting until Glinda's eyes focused on her. "Nothing about this is your fault. These things happen. You didn't know she had Rasping Fever. And you're not selfish."

"The townhouse was so dark and cold and empty. I haven't slept well in days. I've felt like a numb tik-tok. And now, I had to evacuate for fumigation, and I'm stuck in a hotel for the next four days."

"Oh, Glinda."

"And I haven't told my parents. If they discover that Ama Clutch is indefinitely indisposed, I'll be sent home."

"Come with me."

"That's what started this whole mess in the first place."

"No, I mean… stay with me."

She glanced up. "What are you…"

"Would you like to stay with me until you feel ready to return home?"

Glinda blinked, her lips parting as she sniffled a final time.

"Glinda, please. Let me care for you."

"I'm not a pet, Elphaba. I can take care of myself." She was silent for a moment. "You didn't say 'until your home is safe'."

"Because my invitation won't expire at the end of the week."

"Elphie, I can't…" She bit her lip. "Impose. My emotions have been so crazy, I'm… I can't… and I'm so bloated."

"You're perfect." She kissed her hair.

"Elphie, we're exposed."

"Because you didn't wish to go up to my office."

Glinda chuckled and wiggled out of Elphaba's arms and turned to face her. "I'll survive without going up to your office. But… as nice as the Oz One Hotel is, I'd prefer a homemade bed and access to a personal heater."

Elphaba stood and tenderly helped Glinda to her feet. "Then a homemade bed you shall have."

That evening, after the performance, Glinda found herself in a carriage on her way to Elphaba's building. As they rounded the corner onto Strumpet Square, Glinda saw Elphaba waiting for her on the sidewalk.

"Hi, Elphie!" she smiled, jumping out as soon as the carriage stopped.

Glinda followed Elphaba up the steps leading to her building. She clutched her valise handle in front of her, watching Elphaba fiddle with the keys and push the door open. She followed her up the stairs to her apartment.

"Here we are," Elphaba said as she unlocked her door, turned on the lights, and led Glinda inside.

The blonde stepped in and looked around. Elphaba's living room was furnished with a sofa, plush chairs, and a long table, all in shades of purple and blue. The blue rug covered in black spiral designs covered almost the entire living space. Over the sofa was a large painting of an old house that resembled the Governor's Mansion covered in purple wisteria vines. She peeked into the kitchen, which looked too clean to be used regularly. On the other side were two doors, one she could see leading to the bathroom, and the other leading to a room with an unkempt bed – Elphaba's. Opposite was a closed door, and Glinda could've sworn she saw a thin layer of dust covering the door.

"Where would you like this, Miss?" Glinda's driver asked, pushing her trunk into the apartment.

"Right by the door is fine. Thank you," she nodded.

The driver bowed and left.

"It's not a fancy palace, but I don't require much," Elphaba said, placing her bag on the sofa. "I rarely have guests, and never overnight ones."

"It's… you. Just a larger version of your office."

Elphaba's lips quirked. "I'm sometimes in my office more than I'm home. I'll probably sleep here even less after next week."

"Next week?" Glinda blinked, placing her valise next to her trunk. "Oh… your announcement." She sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Elphaba joined her, leaning back against the pillows as she folded her hands in her lap. "Not really. I've already made my peace with it." She turned to Glinda. "Do you want to talk?"

"About?"

"Anything."

Glinda shrugged. "Not really. I mean, we don't have to talk right now." She scooted closer, wrapping her arms around her body and pulling her knees up.

Elphaba freed her arm to wrap around her, resting her cheek on her head.

"I've missed you," Glinda whispered.

"I've missed you, too. I'm sorry for overreacting."

Glinda pressed her lips against Elphaba's, a silent forgiveness. "I didn't thank you yet. For your… hospitality."

"You just did."

"That was to forgive you. Not to thank you. This…" She placed a series of tender kisses down her neck, "is to thank you."

Elphaba closed her eyes, her skin twitching under Glinda's touch. She felt Glinda climb onto her lap, straddling her. She opened her eyes as Glinda's hands traveled up her arms, and her own verdant hands traveled down Glinda's back.

"I believe I was promised a homemade bed with a personal heater," Glinda whispered when they finally pulled away.

Elphaba hummed. She didn't think they'd actually make use of the guest room.