Chapter Text
Galinda is in a slump.
It’s quite disturbing to be depressed at the mall, she isn’t used to it. This is her happy place, after all, and she’s even here with a new pair of sunglasses hanging from the belt loop on her skirt and a big platter of cheese fries for the table in front of her. It all is starting to feel rather stale, is the thing.
“What’s wrong, Galinda?” Shenshen asks her, poking her with the corner of a fry. Pfannee and Fiyero are, terribly and most horribly, flirtifying at the end of the table. That adds to the disturbing nature. It’s nothing serious— Fiyero isn’t the boyfriend type, according to Pfannee, but she’s pretty sure they both like the attention too much to give it up.
“I’m being visually assaulted,” Galinda mutters, inclining her head as Pfannee lets out a cackle of horse-like laughter. Shenshen winces.
“It is pretty grotesque,” Shenshen agrees. “And… oh, Galinda, you’re not still upset about…?”
She trails off and it takes Galinda a handful of moments to realize that she’s talking about Galinda's brief and embarrassing crush on Fiyero. If it could even be called that! Things have gotten very confusifying these days.
Now that she’s a woman in love the world is different. It’s hard to pin down exactly how she’s supposed to react to the things in her orbit, the things in her world. She and Elphaba hadn’t spoken about it, though it’s hard to avoid her considering the amount of time Elphaba spends in her house. And usually when Galinda likes someone she flounces around in her cutest little outfits! Usually she crafts up elaborate ploys and sends herself flowers and works for it!
But that was before. That was with boys, boys she hardly cared about. And this is something very different.
“Of course not,” Galinda says, tossing her hair and biting down on a fry. “I don’t think I ever even liked him, you know. I was just going through an era of mental torment.”
Shenshen tuts pityingly. “And that’s why retail therapy is so important,” she coos. “You’ve just seemed so down lately, Galinda, did something happen? Besides the driving test, I mean?”
And Galinda winces away from the question, away from Elphaba’s parted lips seconds after that kiss, just before her face had flushed with anger and before they’d busied themselves with pretending nothing had changed. Elphaba had said they’d talk later and they hadn’t, not really.
“It’s nothing,” Galinda says. “I’m just in a funk. Want to lose the boys? I’ll buy you a soft pretzel.”
And Shenshen brightens up so fast that Galinda almost feels bad about it. She’ll take the wins she can get, though!
Elphaba leaves Popsicle’s office later and later now. On this particular night it’s dark out already, Galinda’s in a frumpy old pair of Lurlinemas pajamas and she watches Elphaba leave from the upper landing. Elphaba isn’t meant to see her but she does anyway, of course she does. That’s the sort of person she is.
“Um,” Elphaba says before she gets to the door, and Galinda freezes up by the banister and forces herself into the light. “Goodnight, Galinda.”
Right, that. “Yes,” Galinda agrees, nodding as she tugs her hair back behind her shoulders. “Goodnight. Don’t look at my pajamas.”
And so Elphaba’s eyes dart straight for the pajamas. She’s so unerringly contrarian. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I saw them already.”
Galinda just shrugs. “It isn’t my best work.”
There’s a brief hint of silence in which Galinda registers that it’s raining outside. She can hear it hitting the roof, the faint trickle of it over the beams of the house and lingering out on the surface, condensed there in wait. By the time Elphaba gets home her clothes will be wet and because Galinda’s selfish, because she can be mean, she doesn’t offer Elphaba an umbrella.
And then Elphaba’s mouth tugs up into a wary smile. “I miss you,” she says, and Galinda feels her throat clench tight at that, so tight she can barely breathe. This love is so pesky! She wants to run to Elphaba, wants to squeeze her tight and close but no, she has to remind herself sternly. Elphaba hadn’t wanted that. Elphaba had been the one to pull away.
So Galinda just smiles tensely. “Sleep well, Elphaba,” she says. “I’ll see you in class.”
When Elphaba leaves the click of the door sits heavy in her gut. It’s all rumpled and unclean, an unmade bed with sheets so stuck in their wrongness that she can’t get them to behave again. The more Galinda thinks about Elphaba the less she thinks about everything else, those boys that used to exist and all the things she deems important. She wants to wear her best clothes and put her hair in pigtails so that Elphie will compliment them, wants to do good so that Elphaba will approve of it. What point is there otherwise?
Popsicle’s still in his study, muttering to himself at his desk. Galinda can see it because she walks up to the door and then away, hovering behind the frame and going back to the stairs, stopping, turning, coming back.
“Galinda,” Popsicle calls from his study, and Galinda smiles into her hand. It’s a game they play.
“Yes, Popsicle?”
“I can feel you lurking out there,” he says, and Galinda reappears in the doorway with a tiny smile. “What’s wrong with you? Get in here.”
So Galinda does, hopping through the threshold to curl up at the base of the long couch beside Popsicle’s desk. He looks at her over the rim of his glasses and smiles indulgently.
“How do you always know when I need something?”
“That’s what fathers do,” Popsicle says. “I’ve known you since you were a little spit of a thing, Galinda. Now what is it?”
“I don’t know,” Galinda says, shrugging. She looks down at her pajamas, the fairies trailing across the hem with Lurline in front and all studded with stars. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“It’s barely nine o’clock,” Popsicle says levelly.
“Can I help you?” Galinda asks suddenly, desperately. For a moment she feels very young, like the little girl she’d been who always had to stop into Popsicle’s office for a kiss goodnight and a story about flying pigs and storms where stars rained down from the sky. It’s a soft sort of moment, rain on the windows and the rest of the house so achingly quiet like it’s waiting to be switched back into motion.
And Popsicle smiles again, crinkly wrinkles at the edges of his eyes which are more pronounced than they were once. Galinda remembers him as he was when she was five, then ten. He still smells the same, though, there is still that same stubble on his cheeks and she still needs to remind him to eat his dinner.
“Of course you can,” he says, and comes over to the couch with a stack of papers. “You know, in all the years I’ve had you as a daughter I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask to help with a case.”
He doesn’t phrase it as a question but it is, Galinda knows. She shrugs again. “I wanted to try something new,” she murmurs. “Something… good.”
Popsicle hums gruffly. “Here, highlight every phone call from September third,” he tells her, pointing to the paper with a jabbing finger. “Just the third.”
Galinda nods and plucks the pink highlighter from his hand. He smiles. So many people out in the world are afraid of Popsicle and Galinda’s never understood it, never really.
So there’s quiet for a minute or ten. Popsicle stays over on the couch, clicking his pen and scribbling down notes, muttering to himself every so often and shaking his head. Galinda busies herself with the call log— September third is there, then again; she draws a steady line through it and tries not to let it waver, it’s something to do and she will do it well, she always does it well.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Popsicle says softly, not looking up from his paper. Galinda has known it’s coming.
So she hums thoughtfully, considering. Popsicle waits, the ink dries on his paper and the rain dries on the window panes.
“Have you ever had a problem you couldn’t argue your way out of?” Galinda asks finally, soft and low, voice almost musical over the edges of her words. And Popsicle clicks his tongue, furrows his brow— he’s considering.
“You tell me the problem,” he says slowly, “and I’ll figure out a way.”
He’s only half joking. Galinda giggles, though, and it makes Popsicle grin and ruffle her hair again.
“It’s nothing you can help with, Popsicle.”
“What, just because I’m an old man I don’t understand your problems? Try me.”
Galinda hums indulgently, fiddling with the cap of her highlighter and leaning into Popsicle’s side. Oh, she’s been quite distant lately, hasn’t she? What a terrible thing it is to realize you’ve been all adrift.
“I like someone,” she confesses, and this is the first time she’s said such a thing out loud, what a rush! “And we had a… moment, I suppose, but then it was over and they made it quite clear that it isn’t going to happen again. And that it was a mistake.”
“This boy must be the dumbest bag of hair this side of the Gillikin River,” Popsicle mutters, and Galinda lets out a wet laugh— she’s beginning to tear up, curse her reactive eyes and her pretty long eyelashes! “No, I mean that. You’re the most beautiful girl in Oz, what kind of a boy wouldn’t love you? Galinda, I don’t think I’d want you with a stupid fellow.”
“They aren’t stupid,” Galinda says fondly. “They’re… she’s really smart, actually, maybe the smartest person I know. And a real do-gooder type.”
Popsicle pauses and tilts his head. “Still,” he says after a moment, “that doesn’t mean she’s good enough for my Galinda.”
It hits her all at once what she’s said, what she’s done. It was hardly her intention either but thinking about Elphie had gotten her brain all muddled, her head all turned around. Popsicle is smiling over at her the same way, though, that familiar smooth to his cheeks and wrinkle at the edges of his skin. Galinda feels briefly overcome, but just for a moment. Popsicle tucks his arm around her shoulders.
“It just makes me think,” Galinda continues, tapping on her knees in those old flannel pajamas from years ago, from a Lurlinemas spent with just Popsicle that had been one of the loveliest mornings of her short life. “About if I do enough, I mean. I know I am very commitified but school dance planning pales in comparison to, well, a worldly calling.”
But Popsicle shakes his head fondly. “Galinda, you take care of everyone,” he says. “Who’s the one your friends look to for advice? Who reminds her popsicle to eat something fresh every once in a while, to go to sleep on time? Who does your Elphaba look to for every decision she makes?”
Galinda flushes. “She does not,” she mutters.
“Oh, she does. It’s not just the clothes either, I hear quite a lot about you. ‘When will Galinda be home,’ and ‘do you think Galinda will want to hear about the case’ and—”
“I see your point,” Galinda hastens to interrupt. She can’t bear it, she can’t. It’s too much to hear right now. “I just… I want to do more.”
Popsicle smiles again, squeezing at her shoulder as tight as can be. “Then you will,” he tells her. “I’ve never seen my Galinda not be up for a challenge.”
Galinda finds that she feels very safe, all tucked away in a warm dry house while rain patters down outside, Popsicle next to her and the warm hem of pajamas grazing her ankles. There’s a supreme security in this moment and it’s safe enough that she can think about Elphaba, almost. Elphaba, the way she mumbles and the way she always takes just a second too long to untie her shoes. Galinda wants her there so badly that it aches in her ribs, the middle ring of bone that she hopes never to see. She’s never wanted to look inside herself, it’s positively disgusticifying to imagine.
It’s as good a reason as any to plan out her most powerful outfits for the week to come. Maybe a skirt suit? Pink, she decides while highlighting the next call date with a hum, is quite a nice color.
Ms. Greyling is projecting image after image onto the wall— fire all over the Quadling marshes, burnt up streaks of plains all brown in the hazy sunshine, black clouds over the horizon and tiny prairie dogs burrowing underground. The lights are out in the English classroom but it’s not making anyone pay closer attention. Milla and Pfannee are having a whole conversation over a bottle of soda, one of those girls in the uglifying pigtails up at the front of the room is even on her cell phone— an older and chunkier model than Galinda’s, she notes with satisfaction. It’s positively absurd! Disrespectifying! And as much as Galinda huffs and puffs and hisses no one seems to listen, too busy staring out the window to shudder at the positively horrifical destruction. What a thought!
When Greyling switches the light back on the class winces, Boq burrowing his head in his hands. Galinda sits up ever so slightly straighter, pulling on the lavender sleeve of her sweater and rolling the lace hem between two fingers. The click clack of Greyling’s heels rattle through her head.
“And this is just an inch of the destruction, the devastation to landscapes, communities, agriculture! Just think— the generations of wildlife in the area, gone in an instant.”
She pauses for effect but no one in the room moves, no one reacts. Galinda turns left and then right with an affronted little puff. Is this the world she’s been surroundifying herself with?
Because, you see, Galinda has decided that she’s taken on a new project. The matchmaking for Dillamond, the remodeling for Elphaba— those things are so last season, parts of a different Galinda. Not that they weren’t important, because they were; not that she doesn’t still reap what she’s sowed, because she does.
No, this is a new type of makeover. A makeover of the soul, how about that?
“Ms. Greyling?” Galinda asks, raising her hand and making sure that her jewelry glints in the light, makes sure that the posture of her stretch is admirable. These are the sorts of things she pays attention to, the utmost care and attention.
Ms. Greyling blinks. “Yes, Galinda?”
“I was just thinking,” Galinda says, “I want to help.”
Galinda would almost pity how quickly that little sentence makes Ms. Greyling brighten, she’d almost worry it’s a terrible testament to the state of the world. But she’s too busy thinking about others to notice.
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Ms. Greyling says slowly, and then smiles, “Galinda.”
And this is how Galinda finds herself in such a strange and, frankly, uncomfortable position. Here she is, captain of the new Quadling Wildfire Disaster Relief Group— the Q.W.D.R.G. for short— tabling out in the courtyard. That isn’t the uncomfortable part, of course! She’s out here with lollipops and bars of chocolate, collecting signatures for a relief drive, and she is dressed in quite a darling little outfit.
“Come sign up for our fundraiser!” Galinda calls to some sophomores crossing the quad, waving cheerily. “It’ll be very fun, very!”
“See, that’s the problem,” Elphaba says, leaning out of the way of a senior jock who’s signing his name on the paper, starstruck as Galinda blows him a little kiss. “You keep advertising this as a social activity.”
This, of course, is the uncomfortable part. Galinda is in fact the co-captain of the Q.W.D.R.G.— a working title, of course, she’s sure they could find a much snappier acronym. It is a co-captainship because someone in Ms. Greyling’s other section, one Elphaba Thropp, had volunteered her time as well.
Galinda huffs. “It’s not a problem, it’s a strength,” she tells Elphaba. “What if I was walking around all mopey and depressified, telling people to sign up to fix a tragedy that’s connected to an environmental catastrophe bigger than any of us? Well, that’s positively dreary! No one wants to volunteer for a lost cause. And I do not do dreary.”
Elphaba pauses, a flicker of something at her forehead. Almost like she’s considering. The gaggle of sophomores come over to add their names, giggling nervously, and Galinda raises an eyebrow as she hands each of them a candy.
“Now, look at that— see how many sign ups we’ve gotten? And don’t try to say you could’ve done that without me, Elphaba Thropp, because we both know for a fact—”
But Elphaba shakes her head. “No, you’re right,” she says softly. Galinda pauses, mouth still open around her next sentence. “I didn’t think about it like that.”
“I’m sorry,” Galinda says, smirking, “I must have misheard you. Did my Elphie just say I was right?”
She notices too late what she’s said, that she’s called Elphaba hers, that she’s said Elphie, but before she can blush Elphaba glances across the table— quite a small table, too, they’re knee to knee— and starts to laugh in surprise. Slowly and carefully Galinda smiles. Maybe she hasn’t ruined everything, maybe perhaps!
“I did, and you are,” Elphaba hums happily. “You know, I do agree with you. People respond better to you than to me, they always have. That’s part of the reason I let you…”
“Let me?”
“Galindafy me,” Elphaba says, and raises a charming little eyebrow in Galinda’s direction. It leaves her with a flutter of butterflies and a blush on her cheeks.
“Elphie!” Galinda giggles, and leans in a little closer. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I am,” Elphaba agrees. “But, well. When I drove you to Avaric’s party that time you told me I wouldn’t take your advice if I didn’t want it. So I’m telling you now, I do want it. I think you’re very smart about these things, you know. Really you’re very smart about everything.”
Galinda could just swoon! Her cheeks are pink and it’s not because of the proximity of all those warm bodies around her; no, this is all because of Elphie. She straightens her blouse and the headband in her hair, clearing her throat and trying quite hard not to make eye contact with Elphaba.
“Well,” she says, voice pitching slightly too high, “I’m glad we could finally agree on something.”
But their knees bump beneath the table and Galinda’s attempt at nonchalance fails terribly. Elphaba must know, she really must. Galinda can’t stop thinking about her lips.
“Two things,” Elphaba says with a little smile, gesturing down at the table. “You know, I was surprised that you signed up to do this.”
“Oh, well,” Galinda says, waving a hand. “My social calendar was looking a little light.”
Elphaba levels her with a serious look, a look that’s just as intense as she is and every bit as sturdy. One corner of her mouth pulls up a little higher as she looks Galinda up and down. “That’s not the reason,” she murmurs, and Galinda breathes in a long, long breath.
“No,” she admits softly. “Greyling played those videos for us and I just kept thinking, those poor little animals! And you showed me that article about how wildfire smoke is bad for people’s lungs, Popsicle’s got weak ones. Believe it or not he used to be quite a heavy smoker in his youth!”
“Right,” Elphaba says. “You cared, is the reason.”
It’s almost too intense now. Galinda can hardly look her in the eyes and oh, how did she ever not know how she felt about Elphie? How was she ever stuck on silly old boys when this matters so much more?
“Well,” she huffs, turning away with pink cheeks. “I also didn’t want any pesky old fires to ruin my ski season. I’m very selfish, you know.”
“Oh, of course. Terribly selfish,” Elphaba says back, and her voice is so low that it sits in Galinda’s gut, makes a shiver clench at the edges of her shoulders but it doesn’t follow through, just waits there until her whole body tingles with it. Sickening, dreadful, she can hardly bear it.
“Right,” Galinda says loudly, slamming her hands down on the table so that the sign up sheet wobbles. “I think you’ve more than got this covered, don’t you? So I’ll see you later. Another time. For our fundraiser.”
“You’ll see me tonight,” Elphaba says lazily, smirking up at Galinda. “All week, actually; it’s crunch time on that big lawsuit your father’s been working on.”
Curse Popsicle and lawsuits and law altogether, curse stupid beautiful Elphaba! “Fine,” Galinda huffs. “And Elphaba?”
“Hm?” Elphaba hums, and whatever Galinda had been planning to say floats out of her head at the eye contact. She stammers, chokes.
“That… that color looks very nice on you!”
She practically shouts it, teeth clenched and face hot with anger, is it? Elphaba smiles again, slow like she’s enjoying watching Galinda get flustered. Maybe she is, Galinda thinks with a swoop in her stomach, but no— Elphaba had pushed her away. She needs to get a grip.
“Why thank you, Galinda.”
“I have to go,” Galinda says loudly, and then she’s turning on her heel— new ones, actually, suede!— and marching across the courtyard as fast as her legs will take her. She can practically feel Elphaba’s eyes on her back, can feel that smug smile of hers. Oh, how perfect.
Galinda feels slightly like she’s been placed under a spell. She is not acting right, surely everyone can tell!
When Galinda Upland has a crush there are several things she does. First, she tells her friends— the entire point of liking a boy, after all, is gossiping about him! Second, she makes herself as pretty as she can— it isn’t hard, of course. Third, she draws attention to herself— cards, flowers, candy, flirting with anyone but her prey.
Galinda does none of these things now. Or no, that isn’t strictly true: she is trying especially hard to look good lately, particularly around Elphaba. She wears her shortest skirts and tries a new hair style every day, blushes whenever Elphaba compliments her shoes or purse or earrings. She doles out compliments so sparingly that Galinda knows she really means them.
But she doesn’t breathe a word of it to Pfannee and Shenshen, or even to Fiyero! It’s because this feels far too important. If this were anyone else— any other girl, even— Galinda would commiserate over milkshakes. She would take Fiyero to the art museum and they would have scholarly conversations in front of the impressionists. But this isn’t any boy, it isn’t any girl. This is Elphie, so it matters.
And she isn’t sure how to act around her either. Popsicle doesn’t need Elphaba until the evenings most days so it’s up to Galinda to keep her company, to sit stiffly beside her at the kitchen table with her homework spread out and crushing nerves in her chest.
“You’re all dressed up,” Elphaba says, eyeing her nicest sheer blouse. “Do you have study plans I don’t know about? With the mayor of Shiz, perhaps?”
Galinda doesn’t answer, just presses harder on the tip of her pencil until it snaps off and ricochets across the counter, landing in the sink. Galinda clenches her teeth.
“Damn,” she hisses, and leans down to her bag to rifle through her pencil case. She loses her grip on yet another pencil and it slips to the ground, lead breaking off again. Elphaba, cursedly, is still watching.
“Maybe you should switch to pen,” she says lazily, and Galinda blushes all over again.
But she doesn’t take the bait. She can’t even think of the last time she ignored Elphaba’s teasing. Has it ever even happened? Instead she huffs out a breath and scribbles another line onto the end of her English paper.
Elphaba’s brow furrows. “Galinda?”
“Yes?” Galinda answers lightly, tapping at the countertop with her eraser. Elphaba is getting very close, her legs are swinging a little bit and it makes her shin graze against Galinda’s calf. And now her hand is up on the marble, inching closer and closer until green is covering up her paper.
“You’re being weird.”
Galinda scoffs, mumbling something under her breath. “No,” she says finally, shaking her head like Elphaba’s being preposterous, “I am not.”
“Well yes, you are.” Elphaba’s voice is tinged with amusement and she scoots her chair even closer. Galinda stiffens and gulps and tries very hard not to move. “What’s wrong with you? I haven’t heard you suggest even one vaguely offensive new acronym for our disaster fund.”
“I was thinking F.I.R.E.S.,” Galinda murmurs faintly, plucking at her eraser. “I don’t know what it stands for yet, though.”
Elphaba raises her eyebrows. “We’ll workshop it.”
Galinda hums idly and turns to her paper again. Really, she just keeps getting so distractified! It’s rather hard to work when Elphaba’s next to her, breathing in her air and finishing every assignment in front of her so quickly and confidently; Galinda does sort of need her help with the Calculus homework but the idea of Elphie leaning into her and peering over her shoulder is too much, all of a sudden.
“What are you working so hard on anyway?” Elphaba asks, and oh, it’s like she’s read Galinda’s cursed mind because she's leaning in anyway, poking her head into Galinda’s line of sight to read the top of her essay. Galinda slams her hands over it before she gets too much time with it, blushing.
“None of your business!” She exclaims, “it’s my English paper, and it’s not as good as yours, Elphaba Thropp, so don’t you go getting all… critiquey on me.”
Elphaba wrinkles her nose. “I only critique when you ask me to,” she says, and it’s true. Galinda groans. “So which book are you writing about?
“I said it’s none of your business,” Galinda mutters, and Elphaba squints at her suspiciously.
“I’ll rephrase my statement from earlier— why, Galinda, are you being weird?”
“I’m writing it on that boring environmentalist one, okay?” Galinda says, snatching her hands away from the loose leaf. “I picked it up after I started volunteering for F.I.R.E.S.—”
“Q.W.D.R.G.,” Elphaba interrupts faintly, a strange expression on her face.
“—and I found it rather compelling, sue me! Don’t, actually, because I do believe that would put Popsicle in quite the awkward position.”
“Yeah, I heard you’ve been helping out with the case too,” Elphaba says cheerfully, shaking her head a bit and clearing the strange look. “You’re coming for my job, huh?”
And her voice is dipping low again, and she’s still so close, and really! Galinda needs to take a walk, needs to go to the mall or go jump in the pool and cool herself off, it’s getting quite ridiculous.
“Don’t be silly,” Galinda huffs, tossing her hair and putting the pencil down for good. She isn’t going to get any work on the essay done, not in this state. “Now do you want to make yourself useful, Elphie?”
Elphaba nods, open faced and grinning, never taking her eyes off of Galinda. She could get addicted to this, she thinks.
“Help me with Calc, then,” she says, and tugs a new folder out from under her pile of work to plop above the English work. “I simply can’t understand this chain rule business for the life of me.”
Elphaba raises an eyebrow at her. “Yeah? And you’re abandoning your essay to do this now because…?”
Galinda lets out a shrill sound of annoyance, cheeks red and jaw working. “Just shut up and help me,” she grumbles, and with a final laugh Elphaba moves in closer, bending around Galinda’s back, putting Galinda’s elbow in the crook of her own as she reads, and so what if Galinda moves closer? She’s only human, after all.
There’s another party— there’s always a party, Galinda suspects. This one is much closer to home, close enough that Galinda could’ve walked if she’d wanted to. She doesn’t, of course, but she could’ve!
Galinda is four drinks in and blowing Fiyero a parting kiss as she leaves the dance floor when she sees Elphie. For the sharpest of instants she wonders if she’s making it up, if that green skin is a mirage or an illusion from the low light, if she’s projecting onto some innocent girl by drawing up Elphaba in her absence.
But no, it is her! She’s standing over by the banister at the base of the stairs, fiddling with the wood and letting her eyes dart around the room. She doesn’t see Galinda; how romantic is that?
“Elphie!” Galinda calls, and Elphaba looks up but still can’t find her, brow furrowing ever so slightly. Galinda pushes through the crowd and she’s bumping into Elphaba before she expects to— her depth perception is a little off, the room’s all a bit spinny! But Elphaba anticipates it somehow, eyes widening quickly as she grabs at Galinda’s waist to stabilize her.
And so for a moment Galinda revels in this. Herself, tipsy-but-not-drunk and in a precious slip dress. Elphaba, warm hands around her waist and palming the silky fabric there. She blinks up at Elphaba, squinting her eyes with her smile and leaning ever so slightly closer, and oh— oh, she could simply die! Elphaba’s thumb starts to rub tiny circles at her waist, not moving from its spot but just gliding there, waiting.
“I did not know that you would be here,” Galinda says, and leans in a bit closer until she can hear Elphaba’s whispery breaths louder than the horrendible music that’s playing. “And dressed so cute, too!”
Elphaba wrinkles her nose but doesn’t look away from Galinda’s face, eyes all soft. “You hate this jacket,” she says, gesturing without looking at her denim jacket, the one with all the pins, which she has on over an acceptably fashionable top.
“No I don’t,” Galinda murmurs, and looks at Elphie through her lashes. “I only said that to tease you. You look very…”
And she trails off there, moving her hand up to adjust the collar of the jacket and tap it into place. Elphaba is blushing, she’s pretty sure, but she isn’t going to check, it’d show her hand! What she does know is that the hands on her waist falter away, stiff and unsure, and she smiles all tucked away where Elphaba can’t see it.
They’re flirting, they both are. She registers this even in the haze of one too many vodka sodas and something about it doesn’t add up. It takes her a moment to remember Elphaba pulling away from their kiss first, the indignance in her voice and painted all across her face and oh, how dreadful!
“I didn’t get to congratulate you for the fundraiser,” Galinda says, clearing her throat and stepping back ever so slightly to get all of Elphaba’s face in view. “Who knew people loved to donate so much? It’s a testament to us, I think.”
“And to Q.W.D.R.G.,” Elphaba says diplomatically, and Galinda wrinkles her nose.
“I still don’t care for that name,” she says. “Have you given thought to my list? I thought the Q.Q.Q. was quite good. People love triplicate.”
“Oh?” Elphaba says, “Did you ever figure out what the other Qs stood for?”
And Galinda pouts. “Quadling Quandry or Quagmire or… oh, has anyone ever told you you’re supremely negative, Elphie?”
“Just you,” Elphaba says cheerfully. “Did I mention that someone brought red caviar to the food drive? How absurd is that?”
Galinda blinks. “I don’t know if you’re joking,” she sniffs. “That was my caviar, I’ll have you know.”
Elphaba snorts.
“If I lost my home in a wildfire I would certainly be pining after caviar, Elphaba! This is what I meant about the negativity!”
It’s easy enough to forget where they are, really. Galinda can feel the starts of a headache coming on, and she’s really been meaning to get a cup of the punch but all those thoughts are gone in Elphaba’s proximity. Maybe they could sit on the stairs, Galinda thinks dreamily, and talk all night and she could fall asleep on Elphaba’s shoulder. Or else maybe she’d walk Elphaba home and linger by the door. The possibilities were simply endless!
Until Fiyero comes bustling around a corner dragging a blond boy with him, both of them flushed and beaming.
“Galinda!” He crows, and it’s so loud that Galinda winces and backs into Elphaba again. “Just the girl I was looking for. We need a beer pong opponent.”
Galinda pouts again. “But I don’t want to,” she whines, grasping around blindly for Elphie’s hands. “We’re in the middle of a conversation, Fiyero.”
“Elphaba can come too! Right, Elphaba?”
And Elphaba peers across at Galinda curiously— Galinda, who is beginning to feel the control she has over the situation slipping away through the cracks far too fast. “We can play,” she agrees, and what a disaster it is! “I don’t mind.”
Fiyero crows in delight, pushing at the both of them until they’re stumbling away from the banister and into the outside world, the space on the patio where a creaky plastic table is set up. Galinda feels a little desperate, walking close enough to Elphie that their arms crash together.
“Why would you say yes?” she complains under her breath, tugging on Elphaba’s sleeve.
And Elphaba looks over at her with confusion written all over her face. “I thought you’d want to,” she says, “it’s a party. Aren’t you always telling me I’m supposed to be social?”
Galinda groans theatrically. “Well of course you’re right, Elphie, but you’re always listening to me at the most inconvenient of times!”
Elphaba laughs loud and astonishing, letting Galinda hold the door open for the both of them to cross the threshold into outside. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says, and she says something else after that— a whole sentence of things, really— but Galinda doesn’t hear a word. She’s too busy with the rushing in her ears, the hot blood in her cheeks as she swallows. Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart. Oz, she could melt.
“At least promise me we’ll win,” she says after a minute or two, after enough time has passed that she can breathe steadily again and watch Fiyero set up the cups on the table instead of look in Elphaba’s direction. “It’s freezing out here, I need this to be worth it.”
Elphaba might be the most charmifying girl in the world with the way she smirks over at Galinda. “We’ll win,” she says, and then she’s tugging off her jacket and all the pins are rattling around with each other and Galinda doesn’t realize she’s being offered it until Elphaba raises her eyebrows and extends her hand.
“What’s this?” Galinda says softly.
And Elphaba shrugs. She looks rather bashful all of a sudden, one corner of her mouth pulling up sheepishly.
“You said you were cold,” she mutters, blushing, and Galinda feels rather buzzy, rather sure of herself. She loves Elphaba, she wants her, and maybe it isn’t just her anymore.
Maybe there’s something there. The way Elphaba’s looked at her tonight— the hands on her waist, the jacket, the flirting. Elphaba is flirting, she’s sure of it now. Galinda is warm with alcohol, she is thinking wistfully of her bed already and so nothing will come of it now. Elphaba wouldn’t want that, anyway, not while Galinda’s tipsy.
So she takes the jacket and lets it slip down her shoulder, pulling down the strap of her dress until Elphaba blushes.
“What are you waiting for?” She asks Elphaba, smirking at her this time. “We’ve got a game to win.”
Galinda wants to wear Elphie’s jacket to school. It’s an absurdified idea, driven by lust and madness and whatever else is brewing about in Galinda’s awfully lovely brain. Maybe the jacket has grown on her with all its jangly pins about whales and wheat and things, but it’s only acceptable on Elphaba. Galinda can’t very well show up to school on a Monday morning in a too-big jacket with frayed edges, how unlike her!
So she stuffs it into her bag to return, and then promptly forgets about it for most of the day. She’s wearing a lovely cashmere top, short sleeved but plush white enough to frame her hair like a halo, so she’s warm enough until Study Hall when she finds herself trapped in the freezing cold library. Ms. Greyling’s got some fantasy about organizing card catalogs, Galinda isn’t sure— she’s too busy shivering in the corner with her books, trying not to think grumpily about Elphaba as she scratches out another line of her English paper.
Alright, fine! She’s too busy delighting in the feeling of Elphie’s big jacket around her shoulders. She’d tugged it on purely for warmth, nothing else, but the collar really does smell a bit like Elphaba and she’s never noticed some of these pins before, the one shaped like a slice of blueberry pie from the diner in town— would Elphaba want Galinda to take her there?— or the looping little rainbow tucked near the pocket. The paper is coming along better now too, almost like Elphie’s writerly brains are seeping in through the fabric.
“How late did you stay the other night?”
It’s Shenshen, Galinda realizes, and tears her eyes away from the crinkled loose leaf, humming.
“Mm, not so long. I was home early enough to do one of those chalk facemasks from Milla’s birthday, am I glowing yet?”
“Always,” Shenshen says, tugging on Galinda’s sleeve with a giggle. Galinda beams and tilts her cheek up so that the dimple shows. “How’d you get home? I know Pfannee didn't drive you.”
“Oh,” Galinda says, and feels the start of a blush at the edges of her neck. “We walked.”
There is a brief silence. “You and Elphaba?” Shenshen asks softly, a happy openness on her face.
Galinda tugs the edges of Elphie’s jacket closer around her. She’s been daydreaming a lot lately, she’s been thinking of romantic endings like kisses in the rain or Elphie out in her yard with a boombox. This, of course, is something she would never do in a million years and the thought is absurd enough to make Galinda laugh, imagining a pouting green girl on her lawn with one of those pop songs she so hates blaring out. Anyway, she always finds it hard to sleep when she’s buzzy with alcohol, on account of the room spinning, but the night after the party she’d snuggled up carefully into her mountain of blankets to stare at the ceiling and imagine Elphaba.
It was quite a comfortable way to drift off to sleep, all things considered! The slope of blanket across her hip could be Elphaba’s arm if she thought about it enough, and the warmth of the bed could be Elphaba pressed up against her. Would Elphie let Galinda pay for a dinner date? Would she be all nervous to meet Galinda’s father in a most official girlfriendly way? And, with a shiver, Galinda had pictured the same pretty things she’d worn for Fiyero repurposed for something even bigger and better; pictured how careful and slow Elphie’s fingers would be sliding at her shoulders and…
“Yes,” she answers, blinking hard. “Me and Elphie.”
And when the bell rings and Galinda leaves the library with an ink smudge on the meat of her thumb that she’s scrubbing at rather intently, she sees Elphaba over by a bank of lockers and almost hides away. It should be embarrassing, it is embarrassing to be seen so open like this, to be tugging the bottom of the jacket up so it didn’t cover the hem of her skirt. It should be awful but it isn’t, not since the party. Not since Elphaba had maybe sort of flirted right back, hands on Galinda's waist and sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart—
“I was wondering if I’d ever get that back,” Elphaba says to her from across the crowded hall but Galinda can hear her just fine.
“You gave it to me, Elphie, of your own free will,” Galinda replies easily, squinting up at the clock to see how much time she has to spare before History. “It’d be quite rude to demand it back.”
“And I’d never want a lady to be cold,” Elphaba says, all dapper, and Galinda schools her face so that she does not blush.
“How very gentlemanly of you,” Galinda says, and tries not to coo. “But if you want it so terribly much I suppose I can—”
“No,” Elphaba says softly, and when she draws her eyes down Galinda’s body it’s deliberate, like she wants Galinda to see her do it. “It looks good on you.”
Still she’s shy, a pretty green blush on her cheeks and a tentative twist to her lips and wide eyes. Oh, Galinda could swoon!
With a satisfied little hum Galinda turns on her heel and hopes with all of her might that Elphaba watches her leave. If she’s lucky there’s another sweetheart in her future, she’d even settle for some nondescript flirting. Galinda uses her very best walk down the hallway until she’s out of sight, tingling anticipation in her bones.
It all comes to a head soon enough and it’s Galinda’s own fault, too, so she’ll be sure to tell this part slowly. It’s very important, after all.
Popsicle’s gone into work for the evening and he’s left a whole mountain of work behind. Legal things, logs and financial records and whatever else makes up a lawsuit— Elphie’s the future lawyer, ask her! It comes with one grumpy law student, a boy with a stick up his ass, and one Elphaba. And Galinda, of course, she helps.
The borifying law boy is sitting across the table from them. Elphaba’s right beside her of course, and she’s taking notes while Galinda highlights her own paper— call logs again, which would be terribly dull only she’s got a good reason for being here.
That’s the other part of it, of course! It’s a Friday night and she could be out with Pfannee and Shenshen, or at a party with Fiyero, or begging Milla for a sleepover. She could even be in bed with a big bowl of buttered popcorn and a few tubes of nail polish. Anything, really, that isn’t this.
But, of course, Elphaba is here. So Galinda is too, where else would she be?
“Cute braids,” Elphaba says when Galinda comes back from the bathroom where she’s put her hair up for the night. She’s smirking and she tugs on the end of a pigtail as Galinda sits down, smiling even wider when Galinda lets out an affronted gasp.
“Don’t pull on it, you’ll mess up my hair!” Galinda giggles, pushing at Elphaba’s arm just light enough to collapse into her when Elphaba pushes back. Their legs are a little intertwined under the table, her stockinged feet touching Elphaba’s pretty maroon slacks.
Elphaba tugs harder. “Oh yeah?”
“Elphie!” Galinda whines, and pulls Elphaba’s hand away. “Ooh, your nail polish is splendiferous, I wonder who chose that color?”
Elphaba rolls her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. “Thank you, it’s Galinda’s,” she says flatly, droll and stoic. Galinda beams and wiggles happily in her seat.
“It is, it is! Oh good, Elphie, you’re learning.”
“I’ve been giving you credit for my outfits for months,” Elphaba smiles, and shifts forward until her knee bumps Galinda’s and sparks ring through it, unbidden. “When will it end?”
“It won’t,” Galinda replies cheerfully. “Oh, Elphie, I can feel my hair beginning to frizz; how could you do this to me?”
Elphaba opens her mouth to respond but stops suddenly, looking across the table at the intern with a crinkle of confusion between her eyebrows. Galinda pauses.
“What’s this?” The intern asks, cheeks reddening. “What happened to the August files? They were right here.”
“Hm?” Galinda hums, letting go of Elphaba’s hand to peer across the table, “What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Upland’s going to go ballistic,” the boy groans. “They were in a pile, I had them in a pile, what did you do with them?”
And he’s looking right at Galinda.
“I… oh,” Galinda murmurs, and she feels her heart in her throat. “I think I checked them for the September calls?”
“You what?” The intern’s voice— really, Galinda doesn’t need to take the time to know his name, just that his face is purpling and Elphaba is glancing between them like she’s watching a tennis match— well, his voice is deadly. “That’s going to set us back hours.”
“No,” Elphaba chimes in suddenly, and Galinda can’t even look at her. “It isn’t, you know that. I can fix it in an hour, give me an hour and—”
“I don’t have time for this,” the intern says, louder this time. “I’m already stuck working with a bunch of kids and what, now I have to fix your mistakes?”
“I’m really sorry,” Galinda says, voice small. “I’ll fix it, I can—”
“Don’t bother,” the boy says, standing up with a slam of his hands on the table. “I’m going home, you two can handle this. See, this is what happens when a little girl like you tries to help.”
Galinda, horribly, feels a prick of tears in her eyes. It’s all too humilifying. Messing up would be bad enough but in front of Elphie, Elphie who is so smart and works so hard? And to cry in front of her would only be the icing on the cake, that would take things from bad to worse!
And Galinda’s dropping her highlighter and the whole stack of papers onto the table, she’s grabbing the sweater she’d shrugged off to show more skin for Elphie and leaving the room with tears at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill.
“Galinda,” Elphaba calls after her, and Galinda hears the squeak of her chair, “Galinda, come on, you don’t have to leave—”
But she just can’t bear it anymore, she just can’t! It’s positively ridiculous to be so upset over what a boy says— an ugly law boy, too, at that!— and yet Galinda can’t help it. She’s halfway up the stairs before she can quell the tears, and she’s going to her room only she hears voices floating out from the hallway.
Galinda Upland does not eavesdrop, of course, but if she stands on the steps and doesn’t move she can make out the words quite clearly, and that’s entirely different.
“She was trying to help,” a voice says, and it’s her Elphie talking. “She’s been helping, you’re being unfair.”
“Not my fault the girl can’t sort papers,” comes the reply, and Galinda clenches her jaw, affronted.
“You should apologize to her,” Elphaba says, soft but firm, and Galinda’s heart leaps. Her Elphie, standing up for her! Her white knight, her savior! How positively wonderfulocious she is, how sweet and caring and—
“I’m sure you’d think that,” the boy sneers. “If you weren’t so busy flirting with her all night maybe you’d’ve noticed the mistake.”
And then there’s a terrible, horrible pause. Oh, Galinda thinks sullenly, oh, oh dear.
“We weren’t flirting,” comes Elphie’s voice, small and unsure and how Galinda wants to hold her, wants to sweep her up! It’s Galinda’s own fault, she’d been the one to start it all and Elphaba had only been playing along, just being nice!
“If Upland asks, I didn’t mess this up,” the intern says finally, and there’s some murmuring and then the squeak and slam of the front door, loud and final.
Galinda sinks to the landing of the stairs, heart in her throat. From here she can see the whole of the entryway, looking down like a queen on her throne. Over there is where she and Popsicle had cuddled just a few weeks before, and over there is the kitchen counter where she and Elphaba spent so much time. They’re all over the house, Elphie’s all over it, and Galinda wants her so much sometimes that she doesn’t know what to do.
Because it isn’t something she can have, it isn’t something she can go for. She’d tried that, after all— no, Elphaba has to be the one. She won’t move until Elphaba does it, won’t even speak or flirt or make her blush until she allows, until she does it first.
“Hey.”
Galinda looks up from her knees, fixing her hair on instinct. Elphaba’s at the base of the steps and she looks so very small from here, standing with her hands all knit together and a careful smile on her face. Galinda looks back warily.
“Did I really set you back hours?”
Elphaba’s shaking her head before she can even finish her sentence, climbing the stairs two at a time. How gallant! “No,” she says, hushed and still so careful. “No, you didn’t. He was just… well.”
She parks herself next to Galinda on the steps, quite close, really, and smiles all charmingly. Galinda looks up at her through her lashes and decides that she dares.
“Grumpy that we were flirting?”
And Elphaba turns bright green in a second, just like Galinda had known she would. How delightful! The not flirting plan hadn’t lasted very long but this feels well worth it. She’d giggle if it wasn’t so serious, if she wasn’t so entranced by the way Elphaba looks away sharply and tries not to stare at the bare expanse of Galinda’s legs. “He— what? I don’t think that we were… or, well, I wasn’t—”
“It’s okay,” Galinda says quietly. “I was.”
Elphaba’s eyes dart up to her and then away the second their gazes meet, flushing somehow deeper. Galinda just waits, stays very still and quiet with her arms crossed over her lap.
“Oh,” Elphaba says finally. “I don’t… Galinda—”
“And it wasn’t fair of him to take it out on you,” Galinda says quietly. “I mean, you’ve been so dedicated to this case. More than anyone, I know Popsicle’s so appreciative.”
“Well, it’s a good learning experience,” Elphaba says, with a nod like she’s trying to convince herself. “You know. Because I want to be a lawyer.”
“Right,” Galinda nods, the trace of a smile on her face. “Environmental law. Your boring, miserable life. How could I forget?”
Elphaba cracks a smile at that, shaking her head. “But you don’t have to be doing this, I mean— Galinda, you could be at the mall or out with Pfannee and Shenshen, or—”
Galinda nods slowly, a lump in her throat. “You think that's all I care about,” she says slowly. And who could blame her for thinking such a thing? Isn’t it true, wasn’t it?
“No,” Elphaba says. She says it so firm and honest, so affectionate that Galinda has to look up at her and oh, Elphie smiles when she does it. “No, I think you care about so many things. And I think… well, you’re smart, and popular, and funny, and… and beautiful, and—”
Elphaba cuts herself off then, coughing suddenly and swallowing heavy enough that Galinda can watch her throat bob. She’s still blushing, eyes flicking up and then down to try not to make eye contact. Galinda smiles and scoots closer.
“And?”
“I… what?” Elphaba says, covering for herself quite terribly. Galinda squints at her around a smile.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
Elphaba’s jaw works for a second. She hadn’t meant to say it, that much is clear. She’s studying the ground quite intently, now, the white of Galinda’s socks and the contrast against the wood floors and Galinda’s dipping her head to meet her eyes, waiting for Elphaba to come back to her. Waiting, waiting.
And then she looks up and her eyes are bright. “You know you are,” she says firmly. “And you care about people, you care about me, and nobody’s ever paid attention to me before. Not like you do.”
“But this is not why you come here,” Galinda finishes, smiling even as her eyes glitter. “It’s only for the law. Not for me at all. Elphaba Thropp, civil servant.”
“Yes,” Elphaba says, and then blinks and swallows. “Yes, right, it’s a… a good learning experience. At least for me.”
“Elphie?”
“Hm?” Elphaba asks, and looks up at her through her own lashes this time. Pretty, Galinda thinks, so pretty.
“You already said that.”
Elphaba’s lips quiver and then she’s smiling shyly. “Did I?” She says lazily, with a flash of teeth, and against her will Galinda starts to giggle.
“Elphie,” she groans, and reaches out a hand to shove Elphaba’s shoulder, only something else crosses Elphaba’s face and she reaches out.
A green hand slips around Galinda’s own wrist, an arm loops around the small of her back. Galinda finds herself being pulled in, finds that she doesn’t particularly mind. No, in fact she likes it quite a bit.
Elphaba’s lips are soft, softer than they were the first time. Galinda’s hand comes up to her jaw in an instant, she can feel the fluttering of Elphaba’s pulse beneath her fingertips and it’s so addictive, she could do this forever and ever and never stop. Elphaba’s scooping her up and pulling her in, holding her close and tight and Galinda wants to wiggle into it, burrow herself in this moment. She goes willingly.
They break for air, just for a moment. “You know, you could’ve just asked. I think you’re beautiful too,” Galinda murmurs into Elphaba’s mouth. “I always thought so. And smart, and stubborn, and pretty, and—”
Elphaba lets out a noisy, showy sigh and pulls her back in with a firm tug, hard enough that Galinda lets out a squeak of surprise and Elphaba crashes back against the banister, and Galinda’s moving ever so slightly into her lap, running a hand down her neck and shoulder and arm and tracing at her fingers, drawing designs on her knuckles.
Kissing Elphaba is something singular. She’s rather inclined not to let it stop. There will be a lot of conversations, lots of explaining to do and it’s all about Elphaba, it’s all about a girl! Galinda could laugh.
She does, actually, a moment later and into Elphaba’s lips. Elphie pulls away so slowly, smile on her face like she’s not sure what she should expect. “What’s so funny,” she says, voice all deep and rough, and Galinda giggles again.
“Nothing,” she sighs. “Just thinking about you being perfect.”
“Please,” Elphaba laughs, rolling her eyes. Galinda’s on her again in an instant. The floor is rough on her knees and Elphaba’s hands are so tentative, so unsure as they rest on her waist and up her back and fidget anxiously with the curl of her braids. Galinda feels flush with attention, full to bursting.
So that’s how her first real kiss with Elphaba goes. It goes like that.
In Galinda’s happy ending they’re out by the pool. Elphaba’s leaning back on one of the lounge chairs with Galinda across her lap. Actually, Galinda’s face is resting on bare green thighs and she’s quite enjoying it, using her new perspective to trace tiny spirals onto Elphaba’s legs that make her shiver. In return Elphie’s playing with her hair, keeping it out of the way so that her back will get gorgeously tan but scratching at her scalp nonetheless. It makes Galinda want to purr, want to moan, to burrow in closer. Instead she hums.
“That’s so nice,” she murmurs, and she can tell that it makes Elphaba smile. Lips twisting to the side she presses a tiny kiss to Elphaba’s skin, which is warm and still a little damp from the pool.
They’ve been out here a while now. An hour or maybe two, Galinda’s lost track. She’d suggested it as an excuse to show off her new two piece, a precious bathing suit with little pink hearts all over the white of the bikini. It looks very good on her. Elphie thinks so too. She’d pressed Galinda up against the wall of the pool house to kiss her, running her hands up and down Galinda’s bare stomach and squeezing at her hips.
And Elphie’s dressed for swimming too! Not a bikini, though Galinda’s convinced she can make it happen one day. It’s a beautified one piece all the same, navy with white straps. She’d told Elphie as much and it had made her blush.
It’s ever so nice to have a girlfriend, Galinda muses. One day, when she and Elphaba get married, she’ll get to tell the whole absurdified story. Probably she’ll leave out the part about failing the driving test, though. Elphie’s promised to help her practice until she passes and Galinda finds herself quite enjoying their training sessions, because normally Elphaba lets her end it by crawling into the passenger seat and cuddling up on her lap, kissing at her neck.
Everything always works out for me, Galinda thinks happily as she stretches contentedly, in the end.
But then a tragedy, something horrible— Elphie’s hand stops carding through her hair, leaving her bouncy gorgeous blonde waves to lie all limp and alone!
“Elphie,” Galinda moans, rolling over so that she’s looking up at Elphaba’s pretty green face in the sunlight, “why’d you stop playing with my hair?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see your face instead,” Elphaba hums. She’s looking quite affectionate, moving her hands to cradle Galinda as she wiggles into a more comfortable position— legs splayed out horizontally, head still pooled in Elphie’s lap. This way she’ll tan from the shoulders down and Elphaba can keep her head in the shade, which is what she’s here for.
Well, maybe she’s here for more than one thing. Galinda blushes as Elphaba presses down on her nose, a tiny acknowledgement before she leans back again.
Well, that simply won’t do. “Elphie?”
“Hm?” Elphaba hums back, and Galinda wiggles over even more so that she can stare up at Elphaba’s stomach, her chest.
“Will you come shopping with me this weekend? And let me buy you something, just one thing, please?”
“You’ve already given me a million outfits,” Elphaba laughs.
Galinda pouts. “Well, that was only because I wanted to be close to you. This time it’s just for fun. Recreational shopping!”
Elphaba pauses, then sits up again to hover over Galinda, putting a hand back in her hair very carefully. “What does that mean?”
“Recreational is when you do something for your own enjoyment, not for work,” Galinda explains slowly. “I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t know, since you—”
“Not— Oz, Galinda, I know what recreational means,” Elphaba mutters. “I meant… you said…?”
“Oh, that?” Galinda smiles. “Why Elphie, it almost sounds like you want me to admit how obsessulated with you I am.”
Elphaba flushes prettily, bashfully. Galinda could squeeze her cheeks. “I wouldn’t mind,” she says softly.
Which makes Galinda beam, of course! Elphaba had been terrible at accepting compliments once, not so long ago, and look at her now! “Alright,” she nods, and snuggles in closer so that her nose presses against Elphaba’s bathing suit. “I made you my new project because I wanted to spend time around you. Which is also why I was clerking for Popsicle. And why I made you come to that party.”
Elphaba blushes. “You’re being silly,” she says.
“You just asked me to tell you!” Galinda exclaims. “You said, Galinda, please talk to me about all the stupidified things you did just to flirt with me.”
“I do not remember saying that,” Elphaba says.
“Agree to disagree,” Galinda shrugs. “Anyway, don’t act like you didn’t like it.”
It had been a tease, nothing more than that, but Elphaba shrugs agreeably. “That’s fair, I suppose,” she says. “I liked it. I liked you.”
Galinda gasps, smiling shyly. “You did?”
Elphaba rolls her eyes, laughs. She’s so charming like this! Her free hand has drifted down to rest on Galinda’s bare ribs, smoothing almost unconsciously over the skin there. “Sure,” she says easily— too easily, it’s almost casual. “For quite a long time, really.”
So Galinda squints, readying herself for a challenge. “Did you like me when I first asked to make you over?”
Elphaba gets quite blushy all of a sudden. “Yes,” she mutters, low enough that Galinda can just barely hear it, but she squeals all the same.
“You did? Oh, that’s adorable! Elphie, Elphie— did you want me when I made you dance with Avaric?”
“I don’t think I like this game,” Elphaba says, clearing her throat. She’s so sweet when she’s embarrassed, Galinda could faint dead away! And then maybe Elphie would have to resuscitate her— how does mouth to mouth work, actually? And if she was in weak spirits maybe Elphie would be allowed to stay the night, tending to her— how romantic would that be?
“You don’t have a choice,” Galinda smiles, dazed. “You have to tell me, because I’m your girlfriend.”
And Elphaba blinks just like Galinda had known she would, smiling shyly. She always looks a little starstruck when Galinda reminds her of what they are, when Galinda holds her hand in public or tries to plan a date at a very romantic restaurant.
“Yes,” Elphaba murmurs. “I wanted you then.”
Galinda lets out another excitified squeak. “Really?”
“Are you going to ask that every time? Yes, really,” Elphaba says, tickling at Galinda’s ribs ever so lightly until she giggles.
“What about when I kissed you?” Galinda asks, eyes big. “Were you pining for me after that? Was it positively heartwrenching, my poor Elphie?”
Elphie rolls her eyes. “We’ve already talked about this, Galinda.”
“Yes,” Galinda pouts, “but I think I deserve to hear it again. You were ever so hard on me after that, remember? You told me I was… oh, what was the word you used? Selfish, I think it was. And worst of all you didn’t kiss me again!”
Elphaba lets out a long suffering sigh. “Fine,” she says. “I wanted you then, too. And I thought you didn’t want me back.”
“And you were pining?” Galinda asks, making her eyes as big as they will go. Elphie would never admit it but Galinda knows she loves it when she pouts.
“Yes,” Elphaba says, “and I was pining. Are those all your questions for the day, Galinda?”
“Yes, I think so,” Galinda hums, nudging her head into Elphaba’s hand. “Elphie, baby? I was thinking about that beach cleanup Greyling is organizing. If I go, will I get to see you in a bathing suit again?”
Elphaba shakes her head, smiling. “You’re perfect,” she says, and she’s kissing Galinda before she can say it back.