Chapter Text
Elphaba moves back to the city on an average Tuesday afternoon in June. Her apartment is covered in dust and unopened boxes, damp with humidity and loneliness.
She’s been there a week, letting muscle memory walk her down familiar sidewalks and finding all her favorite hole-in-the-wall shops and restaurants, when she decides to hop on the city bus for a ride home.
A girl leaps on just before the doors close and the bus pulls out into traffic, dancing her way into the seat beside Elphaba. Her hair is golden blonde, her cheeks glowing, and her eyes bright. She’s wearing a flower crown of all things, and her hands are covered in pale gold tattoos, barely visible against her skin.
The girl shoots Elphaba a grin, bouncing in her seat. “Hi!” she exclaims brightly. She laughs, and Elphaba swears the flowers in her hair bloom larger. “I’m heading to the gardens. How about you?”
Elphaba isn’t usually one for small talk with strangers, but the girl seems harmless enough. “Home,” she replies.
The girl just grins wider, cheerfully nodding at the answer. Elphaba thinks that will be it, until: “That’s nice! I just came from my home. It’s actually been years since I’ve been in this city.”
Elphaba smiles at the way the girl’s wide brown eyes swivel around, taking in the sights. “Me too,” she says. “I just moved back recently.”
“Isn’t it wonderific?” the girl asks. “Coming back? I mean, I can’t help myself from popping back up every few decades and seeing all the new stuff the humans have come up with. They change things so fast, you know? It’s nothing like Court.”
Goosebumps pop up along Elphaba’s skin as she eyes her seat neighbor with new curiosity. And wariness. The flowers in the girl’s hair shift along their vines, her eyes glitter with gold flecks, and she smells of sunshine and summer.
Elphaba’s never actually met a faerie before.
“My name is Glinda, by the way. In case you were curious.”
Elphaba is definitely not curious. Nope. No way. She’s heard enough stories in her lifetime to know to stay away. Far, far away.
“What’s your name? What do you do for a living? Where in the city do you live?”
Glinda’s head tilts to the side, her gaze and teeth both a little too sharp as she eyes Elphaba. The questions come rapid-fire fast, one after the other. Elphaba doesn’t answer.
“Come on, I told you mine! It's really only fair.”
Elphaba shoots the girl a Look™ and digs her phone out of her pocket so she has something to distract her. Glinda clearly doesn’t get the hint.
“Wow! What is that? Is it a phone? When did phones get so flat?!” The fey reaches over and yanks the device from Elphaba’s protesting fingers, turning it over in her hands, pink-painted nails tapping the screen. “This is so cool!”
“It’s also mine; you can’t just steal it,” Elphaba protests. The bus pulls to a stop, people shifting in and out of the open doors.
Glinda giggles sweetly, tilting the phone back and forth to watch the way the light reflects off the screen. “I’m not stealing it, silly. I’m just looking at it.”
“Well, it isn’t yours. You have to ask to look at something that isn’t yours.” Elphaba goes to snatch it back when it lights up and buzzes with a notification, Glinda gasping in delight.
“Ohhh I love the future,” the fey breathes. Elphaba has a feeling that, for all Glinda surely has outlived many human lives, she must be quite young for a faerie.
“Yes, yes, modern technology is very cool. Will you please give it back now?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s mine and I’m asking you to.”
The faerie’s head tilts. “What do I get in return?”
Elphaba glares. “You get nothing. It wasn’t yours to take in the first place.”
Glinda frowns, handing over the phone even as the flowers in her hair wilt slightly. “You’re no fun,” she complains.
“And you have no manners,” Elphaba shoots back, pocketing the device so Glinda can no longer reach it.
“Wha- I have great manners!”
“You took my phone without asking!”
“How was I supposed to know I had to ask?!”
“You would know if you had manners!”
Glinda glares at Elphaba, and the human remembers belatedly that she should probably not be pissing off members of the Seelie Court. Then the fey pouts, glossy bottom lip sticking out.
“I do have manners. I just haven’t spent much time around humans, that’s all.”
It’s not an apology, but then a faerie wouldn’t even know the concept of that now would she? Elphaba accepts it anyway.
Glinda stews in silence for a minute, the vines in her hair sprouting sharp thorns as she pouts and sulks. Then a gleam of mischief sparks in her dark eyes and she finally looks back at Elphaba. “You never answered my questions. What’s your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Well, now who doesn’t have manners?”
Glinda continues to pester her, and Elphaba watches the traffic outside in annoyance, mentally urging the cars to move faster. Glinda is chattering beside her, occasionally nudging her to join in. Elphaba sighs, trying to think of a way to get the faerie off her back.
“Fine. How about this? If I let you see my phone, you have to stop talking.”
Glinda brightens, then tilts her head and frowns. “Well, that’s a bit rude. Don’t you want to talk to me?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
Elphaba pauses, not really sure how to answer. “We’re not friends. You’re just someone who sat beside me on the bus.”
“We could be friends!”
“But we’re not.”
Glinda’s brow wrinkles and she eyes Elphaba with a more serious expression than the human had honestly believed she could make. “You seem lonely, though. Don’t you want a friend?”
The air freezes in Elphaba’s lungs. “W-why would you say that?”
Glinda doesn’t answer, just keeps watching her with solemn eyes. For the first time since she sat down, she actually seems her age: eons older than Elphaba will ever be.
Those chocolate orbs roam over Elphaba’s face before the corners of Glinda’s lips turn up in a tiny smile. “I would be delightified to be your friend,” she says. “If you’d let me.”
Elphaba can’t seem to look away. Despite the warning alarm pinging in the back of her brain, she can’t help but think Glinda is being genuine.
“Elphaba,” she says. It slips out almost without permission. Glinda’s smile widens, and she lets out a soft giggle, bouncing like sunbeams around the bus’s interior.
“Elphaba!” she cries. “See! I know your name and you know mine. Now we’re definitely friends!”
A tiny corner of Elphaba’s lip curls up without her meaning for it to. The faerie’s energy is infectious. There are only a couple of stops until the gardens, so Elphaba may as well indulge her. It’s not like she’ll ever see Glinda again after today.
“Say, friend,” Glinda says slyly. “Can I see your cool future phone now?” The faerie’s eyes are wide and her lip is stuck out in a tiny, begging pout.
Ugh. Fine. With a roll of her eyes, Elphaba pulls the phone from her pocket. “Here,” she says. “Just for a moment.” She pulls back before Glinda can grab it. “Do you promise to give it back when I ask?”
Pink dust glitters in Glinda’s palms as she nods sharply. She sticks both hands out, one to shake and one to grab. “Promise!”
Well. Elphaba can trust one thing at least: a faerie never goes back on their word.
Elphaba unlocks it for her, figures there’s no harm in letting her scroll through her pictures or play one of the few games she has installed. She hasn’t had anyone to text in months and her email is entirely spam.
Honestly, it’s....kind of adorable. Glinda opens the camera app, spinning around to snap pictures of everything in sight. She grins widely when the lens points at Elphaba before her head ducks back down to the screen.
The bus comes to an easy halt. Glinda doesn’t seem to notice, so Elphaba pokes her in the arm. “This is the stop for the garden,” she reminds.
Glinda’s head whips up, peering through the windows. “Oh!” she exclaims, scrambling to her feet and towards the door. She still has Elphaba’s phone.
“Hey!” Elphaba is quick to follow, catching up to the girl as she bounds down the sidewalk, not paying the least bit of attention to the people walking there.
“Glinda,” Elphaba groans. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Huh?” The faerie stops dead in the middle of the path, a woman behind her almost crashing into her back before she shifts to the side. Elphaba apologizes quickly, ushering Glinda out of the way.
“God, you need a leash,” she grumbles. “There are other people walking here, Glinda, you can’t just go plowing through.”
“Oh. Okay!” Glinda nods easily, but then immediately goes back to taking photos of the ground, the sky, the towering buildings, her feet taking her towards the gardens. Elphaba shakes her head in exasperation, grabbing the fey’s elbow so she can at least keep her from stumbling into the street and causing an accident.
She has no doubt it wouldn’t be Glinda coming out of such a wreck in pieces.
In the sunlight, Glinda’s tattoos shimmer with pink ink, not gold. The crown in her hair shifts and grows, similar flowers blooming in between the sidewalk cracks as she walks by.
The garden crowd is thinning as the day starts to fade into evening. Elphaba lets go of Glinda’s elbow to admire the way the grass path shifts under the fey’s feet, the trees shaking leaves down like confetti as she passes underneath. The flowers seem to stretch towards the fey, blooms of pink and red and yellow.
Glinda finally looks up from the phone to take a deep breath of clear summer air, throwing her arms out and twirling. The sun shines like a spotlight on her, her skin glittering as she closes her eyes and inhales deeply.
“Isn’t this great!” she cries. She looks back and smiles at Elphaba, something softer and less sharp than before.
“Uh, yeah. I guess so.”
Glinda tilts her head again, and Elphaba has to wonder if that’s something all fey do or just this one. Pink dust falls from Glinda’s palms as she reaches for Elphaba's head, the human tensing but not resisting.
Common sense wouldn’t let a faerie get this close. Elphaba seems to have left all of hers back on the bus.
“Now we match,” Glinda declares proudly a moment later. A crown of poppies now nestles in Elphaba’s dark braids, her fingers running over soft petals when they reach up to explore.
Glinda’s face is a little too close, and Elphaba barely has time to register that before the faerie’s lips are against her own. It’s a quick peck, nothing more than a gentle press of lips. Elphaba’s tongue flicks out, her lips tasting like strawberries and sunlight.
“What was that for?” she asks, mystified.
Glinda sways from side to side, giggling. “You just seemed like you needed one.”
Elphaba shakes off her puzzlement, amused by the way Glinda seems to almost skip down the walkway. A feeling wells in her chest, something warmer and lighter than the black sludge that has been there for months.
Glinda laughs again, the flowers brightening in her hair. She’s kind of gorgeous; Elphaba finds herself unable to be mad at her. Which is stupid, really. She should just ask for her phone back and be on her way.
....so why doesn't she?
Glinda walks them further into the garden, bouncing lightly on her toes. Her heels look glittery and impractical; Elphaba wonders if she’d trip if she started running in them. Kind of wants to take her hand and find out.
“Why did you move back to the city?” Glinda asks. “You said you hadn't been here in years.”
Elphaba takes her time answering. “I don't know. It was just time.”
“Do you have lots of friends here?”
Again, Elphaba’s not entirely sure what to say. No? That sounds depressing. Yes? That would be a lie, and Glinda would know right away.
“I have some,” she finally settles on. Not quite a lie.
Glinda hums, a light little melody. “You have me now, too!”
Elphaba smiles lightly. The breeze ruffles Glinda’s wheaten hair. “You’ll have to show me around,” Glinda says. “I don’t really remember where anything is anymore. And I could take you to Court sometime in return.”
“No thanks,” Elphaba is quick to say.
“Why not? Court is lovely. It’s warm and bright and full of laughter. There’s no other place like it. I’m sure you would love it.”
Elphaba knows she would. Can hear the underlying invitation there. She knows she would love the Court, high on nectar and fairy fumes, dancing under the sun with no worries in the world.
She would love it more than food, more than air, more than sleep. She would love it so much that she wouldn’t notice the years slipping past, the way her bones were wasting away, the way her body was falling back into dust.
She shakes her head, wryly. “Not really my speed,” she says.
“Suit yourself.” Glinda shrugs. She spies a bench and makes to head over, plopping down gracefully.
Elphaba yelps, leaping forward to grab hold of Glinda’s dress, yanking her back just seconds before she would’ve touched the metal seat.
“That’s iron, you idiot! Aren’t you fey supposed to know these things?”
“Oh!” Glinda blinks at the bench with wide eyes, the corners of her lips turning down. “That’s not very nice. This is a public place.”
She looks up at Elphaba, then down at the way the human’s hand is still clenched in the fabric of her dress. She frowns harder. “I...guess I owe you one.”
Oh. Oh, shit.
Favors are the leading currency of the world. Favors are the only way things get done in this city. But to have in your possession the favor of a fey? Unheard of.
Elphaba watches the smile grow on Glinda’s ageless face, pointed teeth gleaming. “It’s no big deal,” Elphaba tries belatedly, but Glinda’s hands are already coated in pink.
“I can’t go back to court while I’m in your debt,” she says. Her eyes widen in delight. “We can be roommates!” She sounds way too excited about that in Elphaba’s opinion.
The human sighs, rubs her temple, and feels the edge of a vine poking through her hair. Right. Well. Might be time to actually buy some furniture.
How the fuck is this her life.
Glinda chatters the whole way back to the apartment, an incessant stream of questions that Elphaba doesn’t actually answer. She has to grab the faerie several times to remind her about crosswalk signs and red lights, and she taps her foot impatiently whenever Glinda wants to stop to pet dogs or listen to street music.
The faerie’s high, soft voice floats in one ear and out the other, joining the background of city noises in a pleasant way that settles something in Elphaba’s core. The sun doesn’t start to set until Elphaba leads Glinda inside, the golden light clinging to the faerie’s skin as they dip into the shadows.
It’s not until Elphaba’s tucked in bed, Glinda given a pile of blankets and towels to nest in on the floor, that she realizes she never did ask for her phone back.