"Yes," said Elphaba. "It's me." She was failing to suppress a smile. "You look... Not as I expected."

It pleased Glinda a good deal to have Elphaba looking some sort of impressed. Having Elphaba there, in general, pleased Glinda a good deal more.

Despite all the worrying and fear and anticipation she smiled back.

They stayed there until hooves sounded in the yard and Glinda pulled Elphaba away, away from the stench and surveillance, around the barn to the field at the back.

"Why are you here? How are you here?" It sounded a little cross, which Glinda was pleased about. She could not reveal how desperately happy she was, too scared now to slip.

"By train."

"On your own?"

"No, there were many other people."

"Stop teasing me, I know you did not charter a private train. No Nanny?"

"No."

"Does Morrible know?"

"No."

"We're both liable to get thrown out," Glinda mused.

"Good," Elphaba said emphatically.

"You've not actually been thrown out?" Glinda thought to check.

"No, not yet."

A moment's pause, for a consideration. "Have I?"

"Not that I've heard. Was that what you were trying to accomplish?"

"I'm not sure," Glinda said. "I'm sorry for being so abrupt."

Elphaba nodded. "Are you sorry for not answering my letters too?"

"I am sorry for not reading them."

"Why?" Elphaba tipped her head, curious. If Glinda didn't know better she would say it were beautiful.

"I didn't know what they would say."

"That's why you read letters," Elphaba said gently. "To find out what they say."

"I thought I knew that you would be angry."

"What for?"

Glinda spread her arms but nothing could encompass the enormity of what she had done. "Take your pick."

"Oh, that. No."

"You ought to be."

"Well, I was. Several times. But not since you left. I rather thought you might be angry with me?"

Now Glinda was surprised. "Why?"

"Because you didn't reply to my letters."

But she came. That was brave of her, much braver than Glinda had managed to be about it. Their situations, of course, were different, as Glinda had so recently realised.

"This has all become very complicated," Glinda diagnosed, and sat down at the foot of a tree.

Elphaba followed suit, folding herself up more carefully.

Glinda looked at her, trying to answer the 'what are you going to do' question. Being as she hadn't been able to answer it with many days of trying it seemed unlikely she would do so immediately. She could not.

Did she owe Elphaba a more complete explanation of her actions? She was afraid to. Would it help? She thought, on balance, not. She was ashamed of her behaviour and this admission would muddy the waters still further. And how would Elphaba react? Glinda never had any clue how Elphaba would react to even the most benign of stimuli let alone something of this magnitude. Something with emotion attached. And the fear that she had led Elphaba into this ruse while somehow knowing, as a manipulation. It was an enormous betrayal. No, Elphaba could never hear of it.

"So what did you say in your letters?"

"Did you burn them?"

"No."

"You can read them for yourself."

"A synopsis," Glinda wheedled.

"Very well. That I thought you ought to come back to Shiz."

"Is that all?"

"Broadly speaking."

"There must have been more."

Elphaba sighed and looked fidgety. "Yes and I wrote it so that I would not have to say it."

Not entirely so brave. Poor emotionally stunted Elphaba. "Coward," Glinda muttered fondly.

"Says the girl who left a note before disappearing for the best part of a month," Elphaba noted, apparently just as fondly.

"I don't dispute it. I'm glad you came. That you are less of a coward than me."

"I wouldn't say that," Elphaba said, looking the part and very nervous for a moment.

It prompted Glinda back to politeness. "I'm being a terrible host," she said. "But I don't know what to do with you. I'm afraid my mother will be overjoyed to see you."

"That's not generally the reaction I provoke."

"You really need to start updating your expectations, in light of all these events."

"But you told her."

Glinda balked. "The truth?"

"No, that we had broken it off."

"Yes, but she lives in hope."

"Really?"

"The bureaucracy in your brain must be terrible. Yes, Elphaba, really."

"I'll work on it," Elphaba said grudgingly, "but it won't be instantaneous. You can't change the habits of a lifetime that quick."

"Only a very short lifetime, thus far. Plenty of time to change." Glinda felt rather like she was making a promise, and Elphaba looked back at her as if she heard it as one too.

"Elphaba!" Her mother was, as Glinda had predicted, thrilled. She clapped her hands together before opening her arms and giving what looked to be the biggest embrace Elphaba had ever received. Or suffered, given that Glinda could see Elphaba's face frozen in fear.

Mercifully released, Elphaba stammered something but was steamrollered by Larena. "It is so lovely to see you again. How kind of you to make the trip. Glinda has been beside herself all this time -"

"Thank you, Mother!" Glinda grabbed ahold of Elphaba's arm and began steering towards the staircase. "Don't worry about us for supper!"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind -" Elphaba started to say but Glinda practically kicked her up the stairs and rushed her to Glinda's bedroom.

She stood with her back against the door in case Larena tried to barrage her way in.

"I'll get you some bread and butter later," she negotiated.

Elphaba shrugged but was mollified.

"So…" Glinda affected a very casual air but failed to follow through.

"Yes," Elphaba apparently agreed.

Glinda perched on the edge of her bed.

Elphaba moved some clothes to sit in an armchair.

"Can I get you anything? That doesn't involve my going downstairs? Can I offer you a book?"

"Do you have anything new in?"

"I have a good many reports on trade delegations to the Emerald City and the ramifications of the Munchkinland drought on the state of the dairy industry." She gestured to her desk.

"Oh really?" There was absolutely no indication of any sarcasm in Elphaba's voice, disappointingly.

"Yes, but if you disappear into them I shall be very upset. I haven't seen you for weeks."

"Apparently you have been busy reforming the Pertha Hills economy."

"True," she smiled. "But I have… I have missed conversations - with Nessa."

Elphaba blinked. "With Nessa?"

"Yes, very much."

"I see."

"And Nanny's helpful theological digressions as to all the many demons she has encountered in life."

"She does have a great deal of those stories," Elphaba conceded. "Who else have you missed?"

"The boys, naturally. The whole unnamed lot of them."

"They have missed you."

"How sweet. I have missed their truly invigorating late-night conversations about the nature of good and evil."

"You mean about how the girls scorn them and their fathers don't give them enough allowance?"

"Yes, it does tend to be more prosaic sorts of good and evil, doesn't it?"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say."

Unwittingly Elphaba had cut rather too close to home.

"I have missed you," was all Glinda could say. It was still a lot. It was more than she had meant to say.

"And I you."

There was still a desperate part of Glinda that wanted to tell Elphaba all these new realisations. To be able to say, "Actually, I think you are rather wonderful." Not as flattery or to elicit gratitude. Not because she loved Elphaba. More because loving Elphaba overwhelmed Glinda with a desire for Elphaba to see herself as she truly was. As Glinda now saw her.

"As your reward for all that conversing you may read some of my papers. They are there on my desk."

Elphaba stood obediently, rifled through the detritus on Glinda's desk and came over to the bed. Glinda shuffled across expectantly and was rewarded with Elphaba assuming position next to her. Conversation was nice but the real contentment was just in Elphaba being there. Just in Elphaba existing.

Into Glinda's lap landed the envelopes she had been avoiding all this time. She looked across to Elphaba, who smirked.

"Very well," Glinda said and allowed herself to slip down the bed a little, to get comfy with the warmth of Elphaba by her side.

Soon she was so engrossed in Elphaba's terse prose just as academically distant when describing insights from lectures as when relating extracurricular antics with their friends. There was nothing for Elphaba to have been shy about there. Until the final paragraphs that grew more reflective and ruminative over Glinda's absence. Still, there was nothing for Elphaba to have been distracted about. Unlike Glinda's own fateful and revealing correspondence.

Glinda folded the last letter and replaced it in the envelope. There was some instinct to keep them intact, keep every last part of Elphaba's missives.

"I should get you that supper," Glinda murmured and turned to Elphaba. Who was entirely asleep, papers fallen against her chest and rustling gently with each breath.

The sight of her all vulnerable made Glinda giddy. She felt wrong, embarrassed, to be looking at Elphaba like that. Even though she had so many times before.

She slipped from the bed and went to the door. She would leave Elphaba - could not risk waking her to get undressed all sleepy and soft. Instead, Glinda went next door to the guest room and got into bed fully clothed. Straw, dirt, and all.

She lasted all of fifteen minutes before she was propelled back into her room. She didn't want to let Elphaba out of her sight from some fear she would crumble away or have been simply a mirage. To anchor Elphaba there she slipped an arm over her shoulder. In Glinda's arms, she felt real - was real.

Glinda, the coward, waited until Elphaba was almost ready to leave for the station - coat on and everything - before she admitted, "I can't come back with you."

"Why?"

But Glinda couldn't even begin to put together an excuse. Despite having remained awake all night in anticipation of this moment.

"You can," Elphaba urged. "If you are embarrassed you need not worry. Several more scandalous things have already happened since your departure that have quite eclipsed our little charade."

While the promise of such gossip was tantalising, Glinda held firm. "It's not that."

"And I have put it all behind me," Elphaba continued. "No more fits of pique, I guarantee it."

"And it's certainly not that," she said firmly. "You were quite right to be angry with me. I dragged you into a ridiculous lie."

"That's not quite right either," Elphaba said. Fidgeting again.

"It was Elphaba. You are being far too generous with me and I'm sure I don't know why."

"It was a variety of fun."

There was no way around this without puncturing Elphaba's self-esteem yet again. "Well, yes. But that's not what I mean." She took a deep breath, in preparation for whatever was to come.

"More terrible than fun." Elphaba nodded sadly, agreeing with herself.

"No - oh, for goodness sake - I don't - Elphaba, the terrible part was how fun it was. That it was torture because, well, because I wanted it to be real. I didn't know it - but I wanted it to be real."

Elphaba only stood, one hand paused in midair.

"And I know that is terrible too and I promise I didn't mean to manipulate you into this and cause you so much upset and I am sorry."

Elphaba remained quiet.

"Elphaba, please. Can you just say something? I'm not asking for anything. If nothing else you can just go back to Shiz and know that everything you have thought about yourself was wrong."

Glinda threw herself on the sword of Elphaba's confidence. She was exhausted and desperate for Elphaba to understand, even if it meant Glinda losing everything.

"Can I just - before I make a terrible mistake of my own - can I just clarify what it is you are saying?"

"That I am in love with you."

"I see. Just… one more time?"

"I am in love with you, Elphaba." It terrified her, but it was a relief of an ache she had carried for so long.

"Right."

Glinda waited patiently. Whatever happened next at least Elphaba knew the truth of it.

Elphaba remained frozen. Eventually, "It's just that…"

"Yes," Glinda encouraged.

"It's just that the reason I got so caught up in it all and angry, and so on… was because it came so close to being something I had been wanting for a long time. But knew could never happen. So I'm afraid I got rather petulant about it."

"You had every right. How I feel about you…" Glinda approached and took Elphaba's hand from midair.

"How you feel about me…" Elphaba repeated, clearly struggling.

And Glinda was struggling too. Struggling to stay upright when her knees were weak and her stomach was churning.

"How I feel about you is no excuse for how I have treated you." Then she laughed. Nervousness, adrenaline, something. "Just to clarify…"

"Yes," Elphaba said quickly. "Yes. It does. That's what I mean."

"Right. That didn't clarify much."

It was clear though from the look on Elphaba's face.

Glinda smiled, she couldn't help it.

That seemed to relieve Elphaba, who smiled too. "What does it mean?"

"I suppose it means we can do all the things we wanted to do but couldn't… or that we were doing but were pretending not to want? I don't know. We get to decide, for ourselves, what it means."

Elphaba nodded. Still they stood.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba said. "I'm not sure what to do. I never thought…"

"Nor I," Glinda rushed to say. "I never even considered - when I thought about telling you - that you might feel the same."

"I just need some time, to adjust."

Glinda squeezed Elphaba's hand, then let it go. She backed off a step. "You take as much time as you need. I'll be here when you are ready."

Elphaba nodded mutely and looked relieved.

Barely a clock tick later her hands were back on Glinda's pulling them together. Elphaba moved against Glinda, hands trapped between them until Elphaba moved to cup Glinda's face, drawing her closer.

Glinda's breath caught and immediately Elphaba's lips were on her own. Elphaba's unwavering determination inflamed Glinda's blood. No hesitation, Glinda pushed back into the kiss. Her hands snaking around Elphaba's back she crushed herself closer and closer until there was no further to go. Nothing between them. Not anymore.