Disclaimer: Did you know we aren't required to include these things?

Notes: You can thank the Squintiest Squint for this one. I was trying to think of a challenge for her Summer Fic Exchange (sign up at the Bored Author's Society- free advertising :D), when this idea suddenly hit me, all the lines and everything. Doesn't inspiration come at the weirdest times?

From the second floor, he could see her cuddled in her favorite chair, her hands pressed against her head, her eyes darting across the pages of some thick and dusty novel. He watched her inhale and exhale, her chest moving in and out with each breath. In. Out. In. Like some unheard song, some sort of pulse. He felt his own pulse accelerate rapidly- it probably got more hyped up watching her sitting than it could running any distance.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Fiyero knew it was wrong. He had a girlfriend, for Lurline's sake! A popular and beautiful girlfriend, the best and most envied girl in the entire campus. Yet a part of him disagreed. When had he ever agreed to be her boyfriend? Had he ever said it out loud? Therefore, their dating must be unofficial, despite their current position as Shiz's latest It couple.

Satisfied with his logic, he leaned forward. He was almost surprised and certainly proud to have used his formerly cob-web ridden brain in such an intelligent manner. But not as surprised as he was the next moment, as the banister creaked in a way that could only mean disaster, and suddenly the whir of green he had been taking in became a blur of colors he was taking on, in a manner.

In simpler terms, he deduced as he crashed to the floor, he was falling. Again, that part of him patted himself on the back for his astute use of reasoning. The other part was screaming- or perhaps, swearing- at top volume. He wondered if internal earplugs had been invented. Perhaps Elphaba would know. Immediately, the pain dulled, and he found himself in a daze. A green one.

"Fiyero?"

A green figure stood brilliantly above him, a halo of light above her head. Everything else was shadowed, everything but her alluring features, which called to him in every which direction. He really didn't need earplugs after all.

"Did you hit your head or something? Because if you did, I'm not the one who's going to be telling Galinda how you went and gave yourself amnesia."

"What?" he asked, confused. Was she speaking to him? Her lips were moving, but her angelic voice seemed to float to his ears, clouding all sense of language. He wondered if she sang. Maybe she would sing for him…

"Amnesia. A condition where the victim loses all of his memories, suffering severe brain damage. Not that it'd hurt you much."

"How so?"

"I'm still not entirely certain you have a brain."

Ouch, he thought, though from her insult, his injury, or her hotness, he was unsure. Maybe all three. As her figure cleared, he shook his head. Definitely her extreme hotness.

"No? You don't have a brain? Why, Fiyero, perhaps you should see someone about self-esteem," Elphaba proclaimed in fake shock. "Oh, wait. What's your motto?"

"It's just life, so keep dancing through," he suggested.

"No, your other one."

"Uh, always remember your clothes after…"

"The one about being deeply shallow and genuinely self-absorbed!" she interrupted rather rapidly and loudly.

"Oh, well, yeah, you just said it," he replied, finally finding the strength the sit up and slump against the bookcase.

"Ah. Well, I suppose that's not the issue then. Care to explain how you managed to fall over the banister, which happens to be almost two-thirds your body height?"

"I've been doing a lot of falling lately," Fiyero muttered, "mostly with women."

"What was that?"

"Uh, with windows," he said loudly. Which was actually true. "Maybe I'm deeply absent-minded and genuinely clumsy."

"And you just noticed?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Hey! At least I have fun! Well, not the falling part." As she gazed at him, he thought, Oh, yes, definitely the falling part. "Maybe it's you who's in order for change."

"Really."

"Yeah! A change in lifestyle. Less time spent in solitude inhaling dust, more time spent in crowded ballrooms exhaling… um, carbon dioxide?"

At Elphaba's astonished expression, he continued, "Well, I don't know. Or more time spent in solitude, except with someone else."

"That's a contradiction," she stated.

"Bah, whatever. Better start with the dancing and exhaling of…"

"Dust?" Elphaba suggested.

"Is that why it's called the Ozdust?" he questioned.

"Is that why you're called an idiot?"

"You know, you're pushing me pretty hard for a fellow who just had a concussion," Fiyero complained.

"Oh? What am I supposed to do?"

He grinned. "Well, for starters, a healing kiss always helps."

Elphaba backed away. "No. Way."

"Aw, come on," he whined, pulling himself into a stand position. "It's a Vinkan tradition."

"Really," she replied skeptically. Man, she was seriously hot when she raised her eyebrows that way. Of course, that could be said about practically any stance she chose.

"Really. Without a healing kiss, how is the wound supposed to heal? Magic? Which also happens to be your strong point," he pointed out.

"How exactly did these 'healing kisses' come to be?" she questioned, hoisting herself onto a table and playing along.

His grin widened. "Well, you see, there was a very handsome prince. Prince…"

"Scatterbrain?" Elphaba suggested.

"No, it was Prince... well, I can't remember the name. Something that started with an 'F,' I think."

Her eyebrows raised in a dubious manner, but he ignored them, staring into her deep, chestnut eyes instead. "Fiyero?"

"No, of course not, do I look old enough to be married?"

"No, I meant, is this story real?"

"Of course it's real," he declared. "There's a real princess and a real princess eventually, if you ever let me get to that part." No, he thought, a goddess. A green goddess.

"I see." Her tone contained less doubt than he would have thought. One thing was for sure, she was actually listening.

"You see, he was somewhat of a scandalous man, and…

"What exactly is your relation to him?" she interrupted.

"Quiet. If you keep making derogatory comments, how do you expect me to finish the story?"

"Oh, by all means, continue."

Fiyero made his way to Elphaba's side, joining her on the table. "Now, where was I?"

"About all of one line into the story."

"Ah, yes. He was a scandalous…"

"You already said that part."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Well, it seemed worth repeating. Anyway, in one rather ugly affair- which we won't go into…"

"Oh?" she questioned, a small grin sliding across her face.

"Well, not yet," he replied. "And because of that aforementioned affair, his parents insisted he find himself a beautiful bride before the next full moon. Being extraordinary and handsome as well as extraordinarily handsome and handsomely extraordinary-"

"Of course," she scoffed.

"-he had no trouble finding suitors. Girls claiming to be princess from nations no one's ever heard of came tumbling in, gathering in the now-crowded Vinkan palace. There were even a few Animals eager to be this prince's new bride," he invented, hoping it would please her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that her smile widened.

"But the problem was, all of those suitors were nothing but greedy girls fancified with jewels, hoping to gain even more riches to add to their collections. Delicate blonde dolls unable to lift a finger with out the help of several handmaidens."

"Hey! Galinda is not…" Looking sternly at her, she shut her mouth.

"Elphaba, I'm surprised at you. Don't you ace History?"

She nodded.

"Then, of course you know that there's no way Galinda could possibly have been alive at the time of this story."

"Well, you haven't exactly told me when this story is set," she pointed out. "Scandalous Vinkan princes aren't exactly a rarity around here."

"Yeah, well, it's not now. Can I continue?" Perhaps he should make that his new catch line. Not waiting for an answer, which would probably come in the form of another protest, he went on, "The prince was at a loss. His parents expected him to choose from the beautiful women rather quickly, as it had always been his nature to judge based on…" He paused, clearing his throat. "Well, based on other things."

Elphaba understood.

"Anyway, he was in his garden one day… nah, scratch that, only fairy tales involve gardens. It was in a library. The prince's own personal library."

Her throat cleared rather loudly. "Well, I was wrong. Obviously, this prince is no relation to you." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, but not only in a teasing manner.

"You'd be surprised," he replied. Moving his hand, his fingers brushed hers, sending a chill down his spine. A chill that warmed up every part in his body. Glancing at her, he noticed that she seemed to stiffen, as if containing some hidden emotion.

"Anyway, the prince was despairing when suddenly, right in front of him appeared the most perfect creature in the entire world, curled up in his own favorite chair."

"Oh, please, you are not talking about his dog or something?" she scoffed.

"What makes you think that?" Fiyero asked, confused. He thought he had led up to this point pretty well, not seeing her sudden stray from the suggested story.

"You said creature. Not person."

"Oh, no, it wasn't a person," he continued, smiling. "She was too perfect to be a person, far more beautiful than any of the other princesses."

"What made her so different?" Elphaba asked. "Hadn't the prince had his fill of beautiful women?"

"Well, she had a sort of glow about her," Fiyero recited, staring directly at her. "Her eyes lit up, displaying her emotions to the world, but only the right person could read them. Her skin was as soft as cream, or so he imagined," he added, involuntarily playing with his fingers. "But more importantly, she had no wish for attention or riches. She had gone to the library to escape the world, to avoid the prince, who from the rumors and the other's girls' gossips, she assumed must be a horrible snob."

"Was he?" Elphaba asked.

"Maybe that's for you to see," he replied. "Uh, I mean, in the story, of course."

"Of course," she repeated, suddenly distracted. A moment of silence passed. "Fiyero?"

"Yeah?"

"You stopped."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, so there he was, staring at this brilliant girl- he knew she must be brilliant, for she was reading one of the most difficult and thickest volumes in the entire library- when in his stupor, he failed to notice a certain blonde approaching from behind. She caught him staring at this girl, to her a mere school girl of some status but nothing to parallel any of the others' heritages. Somehow, she knew that this girl had just done the one thing she never could: win the prince's love. Not attraction; true love, something the prince had never experienced before. Something few people do.

"She was heart-broken, and in her shock, she reacted impulsively, pushing the prince over the railing, which, of course, he would never have the poor sense to fall from on his own."

He expected Elphaba to fill in with some sarcastic comment. When she didn't, he continued, "Then, feeling unbearably guilty, the princess cried out, blaming it on the girl, saying that she had enspelled the prince.

"But when the soldiers, servants, and all the king's men, came rushing into the room, they found the girl knelt in front of the prince, who had suffered from a grievous concussion. She knew it was too late to heal him with her sorcery. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. For a moment, the room froze, and everyone, even the blonde princess, prayed fervently for the prince's recovery.

"When the girl finished, the prince didn't move. The castle itself sighed in grief, breaking the silence. The king's men- or maybe it was the soldiers- charged towards the girl, grabbing her in anger. But then, slowly, the prince's eyes opened. The first thing he set his eyes upon was the girl, frowning at him."

Elphaba was staring at him. Or maybe he was staring at her. Was there a difference even? At his glance, she quickly looked away. He sighed. Yes, definitely a difference.

Without his eyes leaving her, Fiyero continued the story. "And the prince declared, 'Why, men, are you violating this absolutely brilliant lady in such a manner? Have you no respect for your queen?'

"Again, silence filled the room- can silence really fill a room? I mean, it's the lack of noise, meaning that the room empties of sound…"

At her glance, he stopped, regretting interrupting his story. "Sorry."

"It's metaphorically appropriate, in this case," Elphaba answered.

"Thanks. Anyway, well, the room emptied of noise- that doesn't sound as good, does it?"

"At this point, anything in attempts to advance the story would sound wonderful to me."

"Right. Anyway…"

"If you say that the room was silent again, I'll kill you."

"Um, everyone in the room, the silent room," he glanced at her, looking for some reaction, even annoyance. To his surprise, she was smiling. Before she noticed his pause, he quickly continued, "the blonde princess included, dropped forward in a respectful bow. The girl's eyes sparkled, feeling overjoyed that the prince had chosen her above all of the prettier princesses, but evermore so that she had found true love, at last."

Silence filled the library. Either that, or the library emptied of all sound, which really had only been Fiyero's voice anyway, and Fiyero became aware that they were the only two people occupying the room. The thought gave him chills, and he turned away quickly, turning instead to Elphaba, who he found staring back at him. Unsure what to do, he contemplated turning away again, finally deciding that she'd take it as a sign to leave.

"And that," he finally stated, "is the story of the healing kiss."

The awkward staring continued.

"You tell a good story," Elphaba finally said, finding words at last.

He shrugged. "It's just like a book."

"I liked it," she admitted shyly.

"Like a book."

She smiled, and his lips mirrored hers. Then, she frowned, his smile falling as well.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know," she said. "It's just a story, after all. It's not real."

"Yeah…" he sighed. "I suppose so."

There was a moment of silence- those were becoming so common these days- before Fiyero stood up.

"I should be going," he said. "Boq will be wondering where I am, and, well, I'm sure you want to get back to your…" He didn't finish the sentence. Couldn't, as he studied her. Would- no, could- she really rather read those old volumes than… he didn't finish that one either.

"Right," Elphaba agreed, turning away.

"And Elphaba?"

She looked back. He swallowed, and before his courage deserted him, said, "Maybe it can be. Real."

There. He had done it. Finished a sentence, he meant, but not only that. It was up to her now. He only hoped that it was enough.

He turned once more, ready to depart the library, or as ready as he could ever be knowing that she would be left behind.

"What was her name?" came a voice. Turning around, he saw that Elphaba had not resumed her reading and was staring at him intently, blushing slightly.

"What?" he asked innocently, taking a step closer to her. And another.

"The princess. What did they call her?"

They were so close, so irresistibly close, it seemed impossible to keep their hands from brushing against each other, their breath from catching in their throats, their shadows from intermingling on the floor. Impossible to keep pretending.

"Elphaba," he groaned, and whether answer or not, their lips met in a sudden embrace, first tentative, then vigorous as their hands ran across each other, as their breath stopped completely, as their shadows became one. It was the greatest joy in the world; it was nothing like Fiyero had ever experienced before, and he had been with a lot of women- not that he was particularly proud of that fact, not anymore. But, as he embraced Elphaba, it was not any of them on his mind, but the beyond beautiful, the glowing green goddess in front of him, and the bliss in front of them.

They were forced to pull back for air, and he was about to resume, when he heard her shriek. Only, it wasn't a shriek really. More of a yelp… a non-girly yelp.

Concerned, he looked up. Had he hurt her? Had he accidentally touched one of those places that girls usually got very sensitive about?

Instead, he came face to face with an even more disturbing sight than a furious Elphaba- himself.

It wasn't that he was terribly disturbing. He was quite handsome, actually, now that he studied himself. It was more of the shock that was disturbing, the shock of seeing himself in front of him when clearly he was himself… the sentence was getting to confusing to continue. He wondered if that was becoming a habit of his, dropping sentences in the middle.

"What the…?" he questioned, reaching towards her-him-whoever. Elphaba. It was then that he saw what she-he-it-the-thingie was yelping about.

His hand never reached her. Instead, it hung in the air limply. He exhaled, a funny sense of symmetry crossing him. The same chest, inhaling, exhaling. But not his.

The hand, suspended in the air, wasn't his either. Couldn't be.

It was green… he almost didn't finish that sentence either. Luckily, the other person finished his thought for him.

"What the hell just happened?!"


Review and win my eternal gratitude. Either that or a relatively quick update.