Elphaba wakes up one night to the sound of kitten-sobs. She wavers: she doesn't particularly like her roomie- or rather, she's getting to, but she'd never admit it.

She looks across the darkened space to Galinda's bed, pink coverlet an explosion even in the quiescent room. To the wolves with dull old Shiz, she thinks wryly, give me color, and returns her thoughts to the matter at hand.

"Miss Galinda?" she whispers, carefully. Suddenly, she's not sure what to say. Or rather, she's not sure if she should be saying anything at all. "Are you all right?"

The sobs stop. Galinda's face appears over the edge of the blanket. "Of course I'm all right," she said, a little irritated, and retreats back under the covers. "Go back to sleep."

Elphaba knows better. The brief glimpse of her roomie's face was long enough to afford a clear view of Galinda's reddened eyes. She sits up, and checks herself: what in Oz's name do I expect to accomplish here?

Elphaba looks from her lap to the lump in the other bed that is Galinda, and finds that for once she doesn't know her own motives.

Galinda shifts, and Elphaba makes up her mind. "Don't give me that," she whispers, and, dangerously, gets out of bed and goes to kneel by Galinda's. Galinda, mortified, pulls her covers back. "Miss Elphaba!" she hisses. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting," says Elphaba.

"Whatever for?"

"An answer," responds Elphaba. "Out with it, please, Miss Galinda. Just because you say everything is perfect doesn't make it so. Besides," she adds, "you're keeping me up."

"I'm sorry I woke you," responds Galinda icily, and pulls her covers back over her head. Elphaba props her elbows on the edge of her roomie's bed.

After a moment, Galinda's eyes appear again. "Why are you still here? Why are you trying to-" She can't find a word.

The green girl shrugs, a small smile on her face. "You're not going to say it to your friends, are you? In that world, everything's perfect. But why should it matter what you say to me?" Elphaba pauses, exasperated. "Truly, Miss Galinda, I doubt I'll ever have an opportunity to use it against you, I wouldn't anyway, and you know it. Come on. I can wait."

"Honestly, Miss Elphaba!" Galinda hmphs, but sits up and pushes her blanket down into her lap. "If you must know, I'm scared. Good night." She tries to turn, but Elphaba does not move.

"What of?"

Turning into you. "Nothing of importance to you."

Elphaba persists. "How do you know that?"

She won't believe me anyway. "You really want to know, Miss Elphaba?" Galinda responds, and looks her roomie in the face. "Will you go back to sleep if I tell you?"

"While I may not sleep, I will go back to bed, yes."

"Fine."

"The truth, please, Miss Galinda," the green girl interrupts.

Galinda takes a deep breath, a little startled to find that she is not offended by her roomie's commanding attitude, and that she is admitting her fears to Elphaba, of all people. "I am scared," she says carefully, "that once I graduate from Shiz, I shall inadvertently marry below my status, become involved in some hideous scandal, and return to Frottica to live the rest of my life as the girl that failed in society." She flops over, silent, and listens for the stir of movement that is Elphaba standing, or for her laughter, whichever will come first. There is no sound.

"You really are," says Elphaba finally, sounding intrigued.

"You asked for the truth," says Galinda, her voice muffled by her pillow, "and as you said, I doubt you'll have any occasion to use it against me. Good night, Miss Elphaba." After a moment, she hears the green girl rise, then the creak of bedsprings and the rustle of cloth.

"If that ever happens," remarks Elphaba, a sort of humor in her voice, "I'll be the next Eminent Thropp by then, and I suppose no one will mind if the girl who failed in society adds herself to my retinue. You could change your name, if you liked," she adds, "and hide yourself behind a floor-length veil. It would make for a grand charade."

Galinda is puzzled for a moment, and then she realizes. "Really?" she says in spite of herself, surprised and taken aback at this show of kindness. The humor had to be false: Elphaba, she knows, does not generally joke like that.

"Why not?" Elphaba's voice turns sardonic, and Galinda understands that her roomie is mocking herself. But there are undertones in her voice, tones that say that she'd meant what she'd said.

Galinda is intrigued now. She sits up. "But that's just it, Miss Elphaba. Why?"

"Well," says Elphaba, still a little mockingly, "you'll be better versed in sorcery than I, which doubtless would not be an unwelcome asset. Plus, you have far better fashion sense. You can be the one who saves my appearance by not clashing. Though," she adds, seemingly as an afterthought, "given the floor-length veil, that might be difficult. I suppose it wouldn't need to be so long."

"That's not it, though, is it," says Galinda, beginning to see. "Please, Miss Elphaba," she asks quietly, calling back what her roomie had asked of her. "The truth."

Elphaba turns towards her. "Tell me this much, Miss Galinda," she says quietly. "Have you ever had a dream? Have you ever had something that you wanted to pursue?"

"Yes…"

Elphaba nods, her face inscrutable. "So have I." She turns over and settles herself. "Good night, Miss Galinda."

Galinda, forgetting herself for a moment, wonders what the green girl's dream could have been, and how it died. Slowly, she lets herself back down onto the bed, and says softly, "Good night, Miss Elphaba."