"You still haven't told me what Elphaba said when you called her last night."
Glinda took a long draw from her milkshake, making a conscious effort not to fly off the handle the same way she had at Fiyero's apartment. She couldn't recall ever shouting like this at anyone before. She'd been angry, and she'd been confused. She'd had legitimate reasons to be upset with Fiyero, and she'd been on edge because of Elphaba. This had proved an explosive combination, and the result hadn't been pretty. She'd been aware that the magnitude of her outburst was disproportional to his crime, yet hadn't been able to stop herself. Now, whenever she felt irritated, the trick was to contain it, to nip her rage in the bud. While she doubted that she was still emotionally loaded enough to shout and rant as she had then, she wasn't willing to take even the slightest risk.
She took another sip, merely for the purpose of stalling, and gulped it down inelegantly.
"You've really got nerves," she began to say, but she suddenly began to cough when some of her drink found its way down the wrong pipe, causing the last words to come out more like a wheeze.
As she patted her chest to clear her airways, she finally looked up at him, searching his expression. He appeared to be all patience, simply sitting there and waiting for her to make up her mind. His calm exterior wouldn't fool her though. She knew that clandestinely, he was still curious as hell and wouldn't ever give up harping on this topic until he got the answers he wanted. That darling scoundrel.
She'd apologised to him in the end—after he'd weathered the storm like the old Vinkun castle he'd grown up in. He'd never even tried to fight her, least of all tried to turn the tables on her. Once clarity had set back in, she'd appreciated that so very much. Then, after everything was said and done, they'd gotten ready for the night and shared the bed almost as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The next morning, he'd made breakfast and coffee and casually asked about the call. The moment he'd seen her expression change, he'd backed off. Which didn't mean that he wouldn't try again a few more times later that day. In some ways, that night had reminded her of why she loved him so much, and after his initial slip up, he'd clearly tried very hard to do the right thing; but how prying could a boy possibly be?
Several minutes passed, but Fiyero remained almost motionless, sitting silently with folded arms, his eyes fixed on her. His food and drink were still untouched, even though the waitress had delivered them a fair while ago. It began to truly unnerve her, and eventually, in a rather patronising tone, she told him to keep his eyes on the cake and start eating.
Despite her angry mother vibes, he didn't seem all that intimidated.
"Why aren't you willing to talk about this?" he implored, following up his question with a heavy sigh.
He cast brief glances at the people around him before slowly leaning as far forward as the table would allow him. He unfolded his arms and reached out for her, but she let go of her cup and leaned further back in her chair.
"Because you just can't stop meddling in my personal affairs," she scoffed. "And I'm over it. Besides, after that little stunt you pulled, you absolutely do not deserve to get an exclusive inside scoop as a reward."
Fiyero took a moment to consider her last argument, lips tight. In the end, the internal tension fell off him as he shrugged feebly.
"I'm sorry. I know what I did was rather borderline. But by now we've sort of established a pattern where you have a problem, and I more or less help you to solve it."
He was right. Without him, she probably wouldn't ever have met up with Elphaba. To contact her in Glinda's name had been one bold move, alright. But it had changed her life. For the better, they both hoped. Even down the line, he'd given her little prods and nudges here and there to help advance their relationship. Things had always worked out somehow, yet that didn't mean that this kind of behaviour was appropriate or healthy.
She wanted to say as much, but couldn't muster the energy or patience to find the words and spend the breath. Realising that she wouldn't answer, Fiyero coughed and cleared his voice to further explain himself.
"My intentions were pure. You know that. My greatest regret is that my intervention apparently did not have the desired effect this time." The corners of his mouth twitched, and he licked his lips before speaking again. "You said whatever happened between you two wasn't a big deal, so I didn't think I could do too much damage. All I wanted was for you to clear this squabble up quickly, to not drag it out forever and make it worse."
"Hm."
"But now you have me worried that I inadvertently did make it worse, and I'm so terribly sorry, Glin!"
She almost felt bad for him then, the way he hung and shook his head. But he perked up surprisingly quickly, waving his hands about as he spoke again.
"You really didn't look like you were fighting, though! I swear, I even saw you smiling at some point. So I can't help but wonder: what in Oz did happen?"
"It's complicated," Glinda replied curtly, hoping against hope that this would get her out of the conversation.
"Isn't love always?"
The way he looked at her was adorable, and an involuntary chuckle escaped her lips. Another, very deep sigh followed, and after some deliberation, she opted for a tentative truce.
"Okay, new rule: You're my best friend, and consequently, you enjoy certain privileges. From now on, you're allowed to badger me for information, you're even allowed to share your advice, unwanted or not. But I don't want you to ever again take matters into your own hands. If you think I'm screwing up, talk to me. But don't personally mess with my shit ever again. Ever. Again. Deal?"
"Fine, I'll try," he declared happily, a big grin on his face.
But for him to simply try wasn't good enough for Glinda.
"Fiyero..." she said with a warning tone in her voice.
"Alright, alright! I promise."
"Pinkie promise?" she asked with a sweet smile, holding out her hand.
They linked fingers and nodded to each other. When the ritual was completed, he finally began to attend to his food.
"So," he said, his mouth full with cake, "you're going to tell me now, right?"
Fiyero had offered to come with her, to hold her hand along the way, and walk her to the door of Elphaba's house. It was a sweet gesture, which she declined with gratitude and a little kiss on his cheek. The truth was that sharing her ideas on the reasons why Elphaba might have asked her to come by and talk had helped very little, if at all. Having listened to her flatmates', as well as Fiyero's theories and speculations for long enough by now, she'd had a good notion of how to conjure up her own, which were more or less in keeping with her friends' school of thought. When she presented her results to Fiyero, he'd agreed almost unreservedly with the feasibility of each and every scenario she'd contrived—which, frustratingly, had brought her hardly any comfort.
Not all of her guesses were born out of fear; she still entertained the faintest of hopes that Elphaba wished to extend her apology by admitting that she didn't want Glinda to ever walk away again, because she wanted to be with her, hold her close and love her. Of course, she hardly dared to dwell on such a happy notion. On the other side of the spectrum, she was scared to hear her say that things were getting too precarious between them. Maybe they were too different after all to be such close friends, maybe she'd figured out Glinda's feelings and found it necessary to officially reject them because they were simply not reciprocated. If one of those scenarios were to come to pass, Glinda wouldn't know what to do. Fiyero had tried to convince her that her more moderate hypotheses had probably more merit, but contemplating on the mere possibility that Elphaba might not want to see her again was nearly enough to move her to tears.
By the time she reached Mennipin Street, the weather had turned. It began to drizzle, and the wind was blowing hard and surprisingly cold. Under ordinary circumstances, she'd have been inclined to hesitate, to drag her final steps to Elphaba's porch, to rest her hand daintily on the old brazen door knocker before finally summoning the courage to use it. For better or worse, however, the intensifying of the rain prevented her from partaking in any such antics.
"Don't touch, I'm a wee bit damp," were her first words to Elphaba when she opened the door.
The taller girl stepped aside to let her enter, studying her apprehensively.
"Shall I find something for you to change into?" she offered, tilting her head, still busy assessing the situation.
Glinda mustered a tense smile, then divested herself of her shoes and outdoor garments.
"It's mostly my jacket and my hair, not to fret."
"Okay. I'll refrain from brushing and braiding your locks for now," quipped Elphaba.
Glinda knew it was meant as a joke, but blushed anyway. Coming to think of it, she liked the idea, but at the same time, it didn't sound like something Elphaba would suggest outside of humorous, fictitious scenarios. Yet, perhaps Glinda could make her do it anyway. Depending on the outcome of their imminent talk, of course. Returning pessimism swiftly chased away the cozy warmth of the cheerful flight of fancy she'd allowed herself to entertain and made her shiver.
"Shell is at home," Elphaba told her in a low voice. "I reckon our best chance at privacy is the study."
Glinda nodded mechanically. While she wasn't at all keen on seeing Shell right now, she also felt that privacy could be a double-edged sword when it came to difficult conversations. It could easily make her feel even more uncomfortable, trapped even. But since clearing the air right in front of the troublesome brother was not an option, she obediently followed Elphaba as she led the way.
Elphaba opened the door and motioned for her to step inside first, then quietly closed it. Glinda waited for her in the middle of the study, as though she wasn't already exceedingly familiar with the house, with this very room. She noticed Elphaba's brows furrowing as she remained poised by the door, watching her.
"Would you like to sit down?" the green girl eventually asked, compelled to a certain level of formality in response to Glinda's stiff demeanour.
She motioned to the armchairs by the coffee table. In Glinda's mind, the gears were grinding. Was there any conclusion to be drawn from the fact that she'd chosen the more comfortable seats over the wooden chair by the desk?
They sat down opposite each other. Glinda could hardly bear to look at Elphaba.
"You're acting really strange," Elphaba pointed out after an extended moment of awkward silence. "Are you still rattled by our little fight?"
The blonde's eyes found her friend's. Was she? She shook her head. This was entirely about the mystery conversation Elphaba had invited her to have, but saying so seemed weird, so she opted for what might pass as a meek smile and remained mute.
Elphaba heaved a sigh and leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingertips against each other in thought.
"I'm sorry," she said after a while. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to come. Perhaps this was a bad idea to begin with."
"What was?" Glinda pressed immediately, heart beating a hundred miles per second in her chest. No matter what it was, she needed the uncertainty to stop.
Elphaba sucked on her lip, then smiled at her shyly and lowered her gaze.
"I, um, came to the conclusion that I'm not suitable to give this speech."
Glinda blinked in disbelief. That was all? A muddled mess of emotion washed over her as she felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. She'd worked herself up over nothing. After all the anxiety and turmoil, Elphaba was neither shutting her out of her life, nor declaring her love. What an anticlimax. On the whole, she should consider herself lucky, yet she simply couldn't help but feel cheated in the strangest of ways.
When the ability to speak returned to her at last, all she could utter was her friend's name in the exact same sad and disappointed parent tone her father was wont to use on her.
"I know," Elphaba replied, bobbing her head ruefully. "But our hard work so far should not come to waste. As it happens, I know someone who would be the most perfect candidate."
"You do?"
Bemused, Glinda frowned at her. Animals were barred from attending the conference. Whom else did Elphaba know that she hadn't even mentioned to her yet that was suitable for the task? Or could it be Sarima? That seemed unlikely.
Elphaba looked up then and straight into her eyes.
Glinda shook her head cluelessly.
"Um, I'm sorry, but I don't see what you're getting at."
Chuckling, Elphaba rolled her eyes before motioning her chin towards the very girl in front of her.
"Oh?" Glinda sat up straighter, startled. "Oh." She swallowed. "Oh..."
"Will you do it?" Elphaba probed gently.
The sincerity of the question had still not fully sunken in yet. It seemed too bizarre to be true. Glinda shook her head as if giving it a good rattle might make her disarrayed thoughts magically fall into place.
"No, Elphie," she muttered casting brief glances her way, then reverting to exploring the room again. "I mean, how could I?"
"Just think about it," Elphaba pleaded with urgency, leaning forward in her seat. "We inadvertently tailored this speech towards you. Imagine how much more impact the introduction would have coming from you; imagine the surprise on those stupid, chunky faces when the gorgeous, sophisticated girl behind the lectern suddenly begins to elaborate on Animal rights of all things!
"Let's talk about why it is I, rather than one of their own, who is standing before you tonight," she recited. "That's true enough for me, but in your case... that would give the statement a whole different level."
"I hear what you're saying," Glinda acknowledged quietly. "But it's not gonna work."
"Why not?"
"Well..."
Feeling restless, Glinda rose to her feet. Her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection as she began to pace the study.
"For one, it just feels plain wrong."
"Wrong?" Elphaba repeated, confused and perhaps a tad angry.
"Yes. Because I'd—I'd feel like an imposter. I mean, you know me: I care for Brrr and Chistery, but I'm not all about the cause in the way that you are. I'm not the kind of ally they deserve."
To her surprise, Elphaba stood as well, then crossed the room until she stood before her. Carefully, she reached for both of her hands and grasped them, lightly rubbing the back of her hands with her thumbs.
Glinda's cheeks began to glow with warmth. She wanted to pull away, but her arms felt too week to follow her orders. Elphaba stared down at her, eyes wide and imploring. Oz, that silly girl had no inkling what a magnificent pair of eyes she possessed.
"You wouldn't be an imposter at all if you were willing to do this for them."
Glinda licked her lips.
"I'd be doing it for you," she responded faintly.
At second thought, this was a terrible answer to give, but the words had simply tumbled out before she could even try to stop them. For a few clock-ticks, she held her breath. She looked down, bracing herself for the fallout, waiting for Elphaba to be either flattered or mortified. However, if she was either of those things, she didn't let it show.
"What is it to those ignorant bastards anyway," her friend shrugged dismissively. She gave her hands a little squeeze and chuckled.
"I... I'll think about it," Glinda finally acquiesced, eyes trained on the pale pink and emerald green of their joint hands.
"Elphie, I need to ask you something."
Elphaba tore her gaze away from the screen of her laptop to look over to where Glinda was sitting, a thick volume on Social Justice and the Animal Question in her lap. She'd ended up not leaving after all. Instead, she'd spent several hours sampling her friend's library, while the green girl herself was absorbed in her work. It was late now and they hadn't even talked about dinner yet—or about when and how she should get home for that matter.
"And what would that be?"
"How significant would you consider this conference?" She fidgeted in her seat before clearing her throat and adding, "From the perspective of the press, I mean."
Elphaba thoughtfully tapped her long index finger against her lips.
"I'd say the presence of a handful of journalists is to be expected, but as far as Animal rights are concerned, hardly any reports ever make it into the papers, unless it's something that makes them look bad, or if it's something truly momentous. Can you recall reading anything about our rally at the Deer Park? Me neither."
Nodding, Glinda turned her head to look out of the window, only to find her own reflection gawking right back at her.
"That is good," she said absentmindedly.
When she noticed that the typing in the background had stopped, she slowly craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Elphaba's confused expression. It took her a second or two to realise her accidental misstep.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Elphie," she sheepishly tried to placate her. "That's not at all what I meant. I was just caught up in my own thoughts. You see, what I meant to say was that I'm really not ready yet to be the poster child of the revolution. Neither would I know how to deal with my parents if they found out that their daughter made it into the news for such a questionable reason."
"That's fairly unlikely to happen," replied Elphaba slowly. "Does that mean you'll do it?"
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" groaned Elphaba as she met up with Glinda in front of the main station.
"Because I need to dress to impress, and you agreed to pay for it," Glinda chortled happily.
"I'll give you my credit card. Do with it what you want, just don't subject me to this torture!"
"Nonsense," tutted the shorter girl, grabbing her hand to pull her along. "It will be fun, I promise!"
Glinda guided her to the closest boutique. It was generously sized, with surprisingly few clothes racks or shelves. The centerpiece was a horse statue of pale green marble, rearing on a white pedestal. Elphaba tried her hardest not to appear overwhelmed, but the strange look on her face and her tense body language said it all.
They were almost immediately swarmed by the shop assistant. The place seemed quiet, with the occasional customer being the only distraction for the lonely lady behind the counter. Of course she'd jump at every opportunity for human contact—and a sale.
Glinda exchanged a few words with her before being steered in the direction of a particular section. Rolling her eyes, Elphaba followed at a sluggish pace. With hardly more than two dozen styles on offer on the floor, it couldn't possibly have been too difficult to find their way around on their own.
"Found something?" she enquired, watching Glinda flicking back and forth between two dresses on the rail.
The blonde turned to cast her a cheeky grin.
"You wish."
Elphaba considered the outfits and shrugged.
"They look fine to me." She reached to tease out the price tag. "Holy crap," she mumbled.
"Don't complain, Elphie," Glinda berated her distractedly, "It's your fault that I'm in this situation to begin with."
"Fair enough, but why can't we get something similar looking from the department store for like a quarter of the price?"
"Don't be frugal, Elphaba," laughed Glinda. "You can afford buying a dozen of these dresses if you wanted to."
"Well, I really don't want to though."
"That's okay. We only need one... or two."
"I still don't get it," the taller girl murmured, shaking her head.
"We're going to be dealing with politicians. They tend to be very rich and very arrogant. If we want to be taken seriously, we have to at least pretend to be on par with them."
"We?" Elphaba's eyes widened in shock. "You mean I'll have to wear one of those costumes, as well?"
"Yes, of course, silly," Glinda teased with a boop on her friend's nose. "Unless you plan on sending me all by myself?"
"I'm seriously starting to consider it," Elphaba managed in between gulps.
"You can wear a suit if that makes you feel better," Glinda waved dismissively and moved on to another rack. She pulled out one of the hangers and held the garment against Elphaba's chest. "No, not your colour," she sighed.
They thanked the assistant and left the store.
"One down, eight more to go," the short blonde announced cheerfully.
The expression on Elphaba's face was pitiful, and Glinda felt even a wee bit guilty for dragging her along. She quickly dismissed the thought and put on a splendid smile. After all, they were not doing this for Glinda's entertainment. Elphaba would survive this afternoon just fine, as long as Glinda continued to remind her that it was for the greater good.
About halfway through their shopping spree, Glinda came across a shop she'd never paid too much attention to. The boutique specialised in suits, and she'd somehow always associated it with men's wear. While studying the window for inspiration for Elphaba's outfit, however, she was surprised to realise that there also were a few female models available. Excited, she pointed them out to Elphaba and ushered her inside.
The male attendant eyed them suspiciously as they entered, but once Glinda had explained their situation to him, her charm had transformed his attitude, and he diligently took Elphaba's measurements before rushing off into the backroom of the store.
When he returned, he brought with him two plain cotton bags on hangers. He unzipped the first to reveal a black pinstripe suit. It was rather plain and straight, without any of the bells and whistles of the more feminine version Glinda often saw at the office, but cinched in and curved just in the right places to fit a woman's body.
"This one would look fantastic on you, miss, especially with those legs," the man explained, and Glinda could certainly see his point.
Enthusiastically, she took the garment from him, only to press it into Elphaba's hands and shoo her into the direction of the only dressing room.
"Let me know when you're ready to be viewed," she singsonged after her, then turned around to exchange a few more words with the man.
Their conversation was interrupted by a shy cough from Elphaba.
"That's..." Glinda took the time to study her carefully, eyes roaming up and down several times. She placed her hand on her hip and cocked her head, eyes sightly squinted in concentration. "That's pretty good. Not perfect, mind you, but I'm not sure if we can do all that much better without subjecting you to too much of this torturous experience."
Elphaba grinned awkwardly.
"So that's it? Am I done?"
"Oh, Elphie!" Glinda exclaimed laughing, waving her hand dismissively. "This gentleman brought us two outfits, so the least you can do is to try them both, so we can decide between them."
She asked the salesperson to reveal the second suit and nodded appreciatively when a navy blue suit emerged from the bag.
"Yes, that might work as well," she said. "Only one question: do you happen to stock black t-shirts? I think that would make for a more modern look than the white button-ups."
"We do," replied the man, "but only in the men's section."
"That makes no difference to me, as long as the size is about right. The jacket will take care of the rest."
He showed her the selection of shirts available, and she chose the softest cotton she could find. On the way back to the dressing room, she discovered a scarf, slightly lighter in tone than the suit. She handed all of the items to Elphaba and ordered her to change.
When Elphaba re-emerged from behind the velveteen curtain, she looked self-conscious, the thin scarf wrapped several times around her neck like a woollen comforter in the depths of winter.
Glinda couldn't quite suppress her amusement.
"Goodness, Elphie!" she exclaimed, still giggling. "You're so adorable like that. Alas, this is not how you wear that."
She stepped closer and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to reach. Nimble fingers unwound the rich goat hair fabric and hung the scarf from Elphaba's neck, tucking the sides under her jacket. The feeling of the taller girl's eyes on her made Glinda tremble just a little; she didn't dare looking up. Instead, she found herself staring at her friend's chest, as she realised only belatedly. She blushed. Boobs, shoulders, stomach—to her it was all the same, but what Elphaba might make of it was what really concerned her.
She laid her hands on Elphaba's arms to spin her around so she'd face the mirror and could voice her own opinion. Not that it was of any significance; Glinda loved the outfit and already knew that this was the one they'd walk out of this shop with, no matter what anyone else thought.
Luckily, Elphaba also voted for this option, so the blonde did not have to fight her on this decision.
Elphaba looked a whole lot happier now that she knew that the worst was over for her. The hefty price tag of the suit suddenly seemed a small price to pay for this peace of mind. Glinda, on the other hand, began to feel frustrated. After seven shops, she'd still not found that one perfect dress. Many of the items she'd examined were quite fabulous, but she hadn't found the one with the certain je ne sais quoi factor she was after.
She couldn't be bothered explaining this to Elphaba, but besides impressing her audience, she also felt that her confidence strongly depended on her wardrobe. Given how reluctant she was to take on this task in the first place, she needed something that would boost her ego a hundredfold. If she really was to go into this battle, she better bring her bulletproof diamond armour.
The next boutique, close to the very end of High Street, evoked little hope in Glinda. It was of moderate size, but mostly empty. The walls were decorated with green brick, an enormous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were no more than two long clothes rails, a shelf for shoes, and a table for handbags and accessories. The lady at the counter hardly bothered to look up as they entered.
Elphaba leisurely explored the interior, while Glinda immediately darted towards the sad-looking assortment of garments. Half-heartedly, she sorted through the shirts, dresses and skirts, until a mint coloured ensemble caught her eye. Amazed to find such a gem in this boring heap of clothes, she carefully took it from the rack and held it out to give it a proper examination.
At first glance, she'd taken it for a sheath dress, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a panelled pencil skirt with a similarly panelled tight top with three-quarter sleeves and ruffles at the waist, as well as a slim belt with a silver buckle. She released an excited squeal. She made to hurry over to Elphaba, but the other girl appeared to be distracted, so she merely shrugged and disappeared into the changing room.
The skirt was easy enough to slip into. Glinda used the zipper from the side, then rotated the dress a little, so that it faced all the way to the back. The top proved more complicated. Due to the sleeves and the tight fit, she couldn't employ the same strategy that had helped with the bottom part, and contorting her arms only got her so far.
Irritated, she considered giving up. An outfit she could not put on without help was probably not the best idea anyway. Releasing a resigned breath, she shimmied out of the top and hung it up. She checked her phone. They still had another hour till closing time, but the greater problem was that there simply weren't too many places left to try. Her eyes were drawn back to the piece on the hanger.
She decided to text Elphaba for help and pulled the top back on. More or less covered, she poked her head out between the curtains to make sure Elphaba was reading her message. The other girl was already on her way to the changing room, mobile in hand.
"Come in, Elphie," Glinda beckoned quietly and parted the curtain a bit. She cast Elphaba a quick smile before turning around and presenting her back to her. "Could you, um, please do me up?"
"Uh, sure."
Glinda steeled herself against the sensation of fingers brushing against bare skin, but tried not to make it too obvious. Elphaba, for her part, was seemingly preoccupied enough by the intricacy of the delicate zipper, followed by the tiny button at the top, and probably wouldn't even have noticed if Glinda had suddenly started to hyperventilate. Not straight away, at least.
All Glinda could recall later was the warmth of Elphaba's hands. She'd never realised before how much toastier they felt, compared to her own, or anyone else's for that matter. Or, perhaps, it had been just this one time, due to the shopping stress or whatever. Other than that, she couldn't remember noticing much else, which was overall a good sign.
And the outfit fit perfectly, of course, and it suited her to boot. Elphaba approved with a nod, although that was hardly reliable feedback. Any old frock would have earned her endorsement, if only it meant she could finally go home.
Glinda took the set to the register, and Elphaba followed her dutifully, credit card ready between her fingers. Before she could hand it over, however, Glinda had already tapped her own. Elphaba gave her a confused look.
"Normally, I don't use my parent's money, but this is for a good cause, isn't it?" Glinda explained bashfully.
"Maybe. But why would you convince me to come along to pay for your clothes if this was your plan all along?"
"Because it seemed easier than convincing you to come along for your own clothes' sake," she retorted.
Elphaba huffed grumpily.
"I feel betrayed."
"You'll get over it. Oh, by the way, now that we're done, we can finally relax and enjoy a sundae or something. And I'm totally okay with letting you pay this time," she added, playfully poking Elphaba's ribs with her elbow.