First Wicked story, that sat in my 'Fanfictions' folder for a while before I had the courage to put it up here. *sighs*

Wicked. It's not mine.

xxx

Elphaba was singing in the shower.

Fiyero lay awake in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling, wondering what godly deed he had done to deserve such a reward. Elphaba. In the shower.

Singing.

He had very rarely heard her sing before. Perhaps once or twice, at Shiz; but for very, very short periods of time. Never like this, a full-length and bluesy tune that showcased her lovely voice so perfectly it didn't even need to be amplified by the shower walls--though it was, of course, and all the better for him to hear.

It was fascinating. If there had been any part of his heart not already claimed by Elphaba in some way, it had been taken the moment he'd heard the first note. Her voice was smooth, perfect, never missing a pitch, always adding jazzy inflections that could make the most mediocre song cause a grown man to fall to his knees. Fiyero was simply amazed he wasn't still dreaming.

Suddenly the voice halted, as did the sound of running water and the beating of Fiyero's heart, if momentarily. Then the door opened and she stepped out carefully, towels wrapped around her torso and hair, though not completely obscuring her legs--Fiyero shivered. "You're awake," she stated without looking his way as he quickly closed his eyes again, and he groaned in response.

"You always know."

"Yep. Keep your eyes closed."

Fiyero smiled, but still obliged.

"You were singing," he said matter-of-factly, eyes still closed, listening to Elphaba's soft footsteps and the rustling of towels and fabrics as she changed. The rustling faltered for a moment, and Fiyero's smile grew wider.

"Yes," was the hesitant response, and Fiyero tentatively opened his eyes. She stood before him dressed in a simple black slip of a dress with a v-cut neckline exposing her collarbones and elegant neck, and with her hair tied in a messy bun, loose strands of hair falling into her face and dark eyes staring shrewdly at him, Fiyero forgot to breathe.

"You have a lovely voice," he continued quietly, and she flushed, the delicate and faint rose on her cheeks contrasting perfectly with the rest of her face. He sat up, facing her, sapphire eyes dancing. "I suppose it echoes the rest of you."

She rolled her eyes, but it looked as though it had taken an effort. "Lovesick sap," she said in an attempt to sound dry, though her voice trembled slightly, ruining the effect. "It's because it's the morning, isn't it?"

"It's because you're you."

She didn't answer to that, and he grinned smugly. There was a pause.

"You know," Fiyero began, a slightly evil grin creeping onto his face, "I was almost wishing I were in the shower with you, too--to hear you better, of course."

Which earned him a shoe thrown in the vicinity of his head, a tackle to the floor, and a passionate kiss that made time slow down.

If music be the food of love, Fiyero thought vaguely, then play on.

xxx

Comments? Criticisms?

All are welcome. :D