Neither of the two women said much for the remainder of their journey. Larena was busy typing away on her phone, in all probability reporting the most noteworthy events of the evening to her friends or, perhaps, to her husband. Glinda inhaled sharply and turned away to watch the colourfully lit scenery of the inner city fly by.

Her stomach was in knots. She'd hoped to feel some relief now that the night was drawing to a close. Instead, she found herself plagued by fleeting, yet uncomfortable resurgences. As so often, she silently scolded herself for her overly delicate sensitivity to those faint echoes of the touches and kisses that she had endured in the name of pleasing her mother. Though she had not welcomed them, she still felt that it was important for her to remind herself that Torias had not acted in any way abnormally, or even inappropriately. In fact, he had merely enacted the plan they both had agreed on, unaware of Glinda's own reluctance and squeamishness. If only she could toughen herself against this ridiculous affliction; yes, that would be wonderful, life changing even. But unfortunately, numerous encounters of the same sort have always seemed to yield the same result. If there was any chance at all of improvement, she'd certainly have observed some small progress starting to show itself years ago.

Glinda noticed the glaringly bright green neon sign of the cinema on Peridot Square as they drove past. Her mother's hotel was just around the corner. She cast a nervous glance her way and chewed the inside of her cheek. Having already earned some praise tonight, she considered risking just a measure of audacity and making an early escape from her mother's clutches.

"Mumsie?" She began, then waited for the older woman to look up from her phone. "I know you'd prefer me to come upstairs with you, but I'm dreadfully tired. Could I just ask the cab to take me home instead?"

Larena raised her eyebrows and uttered a laugh of disbelief.

"And who will help you undress?" she asked mildly amused, most likely assuming that Glinda had not given such technicalities any thought at all.

"I'll be fine," Glinda replied firmly, rendering her mother momentarily speechless.

Taken aback, Larena frowned. To Glinda's surprise, however, she blinked a few times and simply shook her head.

"As you wish."

The cab stopped at the hotel. Larena kissed her daughter's cheek and wished her a good night before slipping a bill into her hand. Glinda waved after her, and as soon as her mother was out of sight, she gave the driver Fiyero's address.

She took out her phone.

'Still awake?' she asked in a message to her Vinkun friend, adding a number of silly emojis.

'Barely. What's up?'

The car pulled up in front of the apartment building a little later. As per Glinda's request, Fiyero was waiting for her outside. When he watched her step out of the taxi, his jaw almost dropped.

"Glin? What in Oz!"

She stood and smiled at him awkwardly.

"Can the questions wait until we're upstairs?"

He nodded slowly. His first impulse was to offer his arm, but Glinda only rolled her eyes.

"I've had enough of that sort of thing tonight, but if you could please open the door and let me inside, I'd be much obliged."

Once upstairs, Fiyero immediately placed a can of cheap beer in front of her, apologising that he did not have anything stronger or more classy, for that matter. She appreciated the thought and his impeccable intuition – offering alcohol to guests was not something he routinely did, so he obviously sensed that something wasn't quite right with her. Thanking him, she opted for a glass of cold water instead.

Too tired for long tales, she summarised the evening for him in just a few, vague sentences. Fiyero knew her well enough to make up for some of the lacking information and watched her with growing concern.

"She'll be on her way back to Frottica tomorrow afternoon," Glinda dismissed, trying to sweep the matter under the rug as quickly as possible. "I did not come here to cry over it or upset you. I just don't want to be alone right now. And I also need someone to help me undress," she added sheepishly.

"Crope and Tibbett?" Fiyero suggested with a teasing grin.

"Are sweet and all," she replied quickly, apparently missing his playful tone, "but I'm still more comfortable with you."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment then." He sighed. "It's getting late. You said something about undressing; shall we tackle that next? I reckon you'd be more at ease in a baggy, soft t-shirt."

She shrugged noncommittedly, but he immediately rose to his feet and reached for her hand.

"This way, my lady," he said with a wink as he led her towards the bedroom.

He dropped her hand to search his dresser for a fresh change of clothes for her. Glinda, in the meantime, walked over to the mirror on the wardrobe to have one last look at her ridiculous getup. She'd return most of the accessories to her mother tomorrow, but what was she meant to do with the gown? Her mother had paid for it, but she doubted that she'd ask for it back. At the same time, Glinda did not expect to have any further use for it. Would it be reasonable to sell the dress and donate the profit? Keeping the money was out of the question, since it would be akin to using the allowance her parents had been sending her on a regular basis and therefore against her principles.

"Band shirt or cartoon tee?" Fiyero asked, still rummaging through the overflowing drawers.

She hesitated to turn away from her reflection, but eventually, she scowled at herself and pivoted sharply.

"This one," she said decidedly, pulling out the first garment her hand could grasp. Without even looking at it, she flung it onto the bed. "Now, would you please be so kind and assist me with this?"

She presented him with her back, making sure she would not be able to watch the procedure in the mirror.

She could hear him shifting his weight behind her and shuffling left and right, yet he was unable to accomplish anything.

"It's really quite simple," she pressed out between tensely clenched teeth, immediately feeling guilty for being so severe on him. She drew a slightly shaky breath before continuing. "You just loosen the laces and everything else will slip off," she explained more gently. "If my mother hadn't pulled it all so tight in the first place, I'd probably even be able to do it myself. But as it is right now, I can hardly contort my arms enough to reach."

"From over here it looks way more complicated than that," he replied, but tentatively picked up one of the silken strings.

He gave it a hearty tug and then another, until the knot came loose. Inhaling deeply, Glinda could feel the dress give a little.

"Thank—" she began to say when a sudden shiver cut her off.

Startled, Fiyero briefly removed his hands that had been trying to loosen the laces further and had brushed against her skin in the process. He changed his mind almost immediately, and tenderly, yet firmly rested them on her bare shoulders.

"It's okay, Glin. It's just me."

She did her best to ignore the throbbing of her heart and nodded meekly.

"I'm sorry. It's fine. It's nothing. I don't know why..."

"I'll finish this real quick, alright?"

She nodded again, casting him a fleeting look over her shoulder before steeling herself against the sensations to come. It wasn't quite as bad after that.

"Okay, I think this should be slack enough," Fiyero informed her when his work was done and took a step back. "I'll just leave the room for a minute while you get changed, yeah?"

Standing with her gaze on the ground, the front of her dress still clutched to her chest, Glinda suddenly felt incredibly tired. She felt too weary to care whether or not Fiyero was watching her, too weary to even bother with getting changed.

"Oh screw it," she sighed as she let the straps of the dress slip off her shoulders, and the luxurious fabric pooled around her ankles. She stepped out of it and gingerly climbed into the nearby bed, curling up under the blanket.

Fiyero watched her in wonder before moving to join her on the other side of the bed. He pulled her portion of the duvet a little higher up, making sure she was covered and warm all the way to her neck.

"Would it be okay if I held you?" he asked quietly, trying as best as he could to follow his instincts.

"Please do," was her soft, yet unmistakable reply.

* * *

When she woke up the following morning, Fiyero's side of the bed was already empty and cold. She blinked and rolled over, unwilling to leave the soothing warmth and comfort just yet. Subconsciously, she knew that she couldn't afford to wait too much longer though, lest all hell break loose if she failed to sort herself out on time before meeting her mother as agreed. With a faint flicker of hope, she searched for her phone under the pillow, between the sheets, on the bedside table; maybe it wasn't as late yet as she feared. But her preliminary search turned up empty, and so she was forced to pull on Fiyero's old shirt and extend her efforts beyond the boundaries of the bed.

She found her friend on the couch in the lounge, notebook on his lap, absorbed in his work. Her phone was lying on the beaten up coffee table.

"What time is it?" she murmured, suppressing a yawn.

There was no immediate answer. It didn't seem like he had noticed her yet. Yawning again, she crossed the room to pick up her mobile and check for herself. It was almost half past eight o'clock.

"Shit, it's late!" she exclaimed, causing him to look up at last.

"It's okay," he told her, looking a little confused. "Today's a holiday, remember? You're not late for work."

Glinda exhaled noisily through her nostrils.

"I realise that! But I have an appointment with my mum at ten, and believe me, I'd rather be late for work all week than make her wait for any longer than five minutes tops."

"Okay. That's still not too bad. Just got to find you something to wear."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "This is not our old apartment, and I don't exactly have a wardrobe full of clothes here, do I?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's true."

"I have to get home and get changed. But first I have to get there somehow. Any suggestions? Have I accidentally left anything recently?"

Fiyero put aside his laptop and scratched his head.

"I found a bra in my drawer the other day, but I suppose that's not very helpful?"

"Shit, no, that's absolutely not helping," groaned Glinda.

Still, if Fiyero occasionally found such random items as Glinda's undergarments in his own stash of clothes, there was still a slim chance that his dresser might harbour more useful articles as well. Fiyero volunteered to make toast and eggs for breakfast while he left Glinda to sift through his belongings. Her bounty were a pair of socks she'd long given up searching for, an old pyjama set and a ridiculous number of hair ties.

"Any luck?" asked Fiyero as she came back to have her food.

"Sort of? I think I'll have no choice but to pretend my black PJ pants are a proper pair of leggings and then I'll have to borrow one of your hoodies and find some sort of shoes."

"You've still got those slippers that I bought for you to wear when you're over here. You never do, but maybe my investment will not be completely in vain after all if they come in handy now?"

"So I have to make my way home in slippers?" she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"They almost look like sandals," said Fiyero in an attempt to reassure her.

"Yeah. Well, not like I have much of a choice."

She finished her breakfast in a hurry, then changed into the clothes she had found and the smallest-looking sweatshirt she could find in the closet. When she came to Fiyero to say her goodbyes, he grinned widely at her.

"Not funny," she hissed, but soon she smiled, too and even broke out into a reluctant laugh.

Despite feeling incredibly self-conscious about going out in public like this, she, much to her own surprise, could still see some humour in this situation.

"I called a cab," she informed him. "I'm pretty sure the driver will be here any moment."

"So spendy," he teased.

"Just this one time. The least I can do, is to minimise the number of people to witness my shame."

After a swift change and a mad dash to the Emerald Garden, she met her mother almost on time.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she gasped slightly, handing the tote bag with her shoes, the throw and the family jewels to Larena.

The older woman quirked a disproving eyebrow, yet said nothing to reprimand her daughter.

Their meal went relatively smoothly. Of course, Larena asked about Glinda's thoughts on Torias and encouraged her to continue meeting him. Glinda had expected as much and, seeing as her mother was about to leave the city within a few hours, wasn't particularly phased.

"Well, I can't make any promises, mumsie," she said quietly, acting bashful.

"He liked you and seeing how things were going for you without my help, you could do a lot worse," Larena said firmly. "I want you to put some effort in this."

"He was all politeness," Glinda tried to dim her hopes. "We have met before as you now know, and he has not shown much interest in the past. I believe he may have behaved as he did only to not spoil our evening."

Her mother produced the cigarette tin from her handbag and lit herself a smoke.

"I find that hard to believe. But of course, it could always be that he has simply not seen you in the proper setting before," she allowed. "He might not have expected to find out that he has been dealing with a proper lady all along."

Glinda mustered a somewhat strained smile and changed the topic.

Towards the end of their meetup, Larena pulled out an envelope of gold coloured paper and pushed it towards her daughter.

"A little surprise before we part ways. I doubt I will be free to travel all the way here again on time for your birthday, so this present comes a little early. We could have sent it by mail or even emailed it to you, but I rather wanted to give it to you in person."

Hesitantly, Glinda stretched out her hand to accept the mystery gift. The envelope was neither particularly thick, nor stiff. It appeared to be no more than a card, perhaps with some cash in it.

"The entire course is already paid for," Larena emphasised as she watched Glinda revealing a driving school pamphlet. "Please make an appointment as soon as is convenient. The car will follow once you hold the license in your hands."

"Um, thanks, mumsie," Glinda said, studying the pamphlet diligently so she hand an excuse not to look at her mother.

She hadn't received much for her last couple of birthdays, other than money that she'd never spent. In giving her something that they had already laid out money for, her parents left her little choice but to use the gift. There was no point in letting the arrangement expire out of pure spite or pride. At least, it was something that might actually come in handy at some point.

Larena used her remaining time with her daughter rather efficiently, packing as many pieces of advice, lectures and warnings in their conversation as humanly possible. A patient smile fixed on her lips and nodding occasionally, Glinda weathered it all without protest. She knew, the more confident her mother felt about her compliance, the longer she'd refrain from returning to the Emerald City.

She accompanied her mother to the main station and even to the platform from where her train was due to depart. One of Larena's final implorations was for Glinda to stay in contact with Torias and fuel his interests in her in every way she could device. With a small sigh, Glinda reiterated her earlier reply, but assured her to at least try. Nevertheless, after she'd waved her goodbye and watched the train disappear down the tracks, she swore to herself to never again force herself to do anything for the sole purpose of pleasing her parents.

* * *

Figuring that she had a lot to contemplate, Glinda walked the entire way home – a journey that took her almost three hours. When she arrived back at the flat, her two cohabitants were busy in the kitchen, and not only with their cooking. Shaking her head, she headed for her own room without saying anything. A couple of minutes later, Tibbett knocked on her door and stuck his head in.

"Hey Babe, you okay?"

Looking up from her computer, she shrugged, but smiled.

"We're having fried rice, if you're interested," he offered.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," replied Glinda, almost surprised when she realised that it wasn't even a lie.

From the way her friend tilted his head, however, she could tell that he was not entirely satisfied with her answer.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Quite sure. What makes you say that?"

He waved his hand about a few times before placing it on his hip.

"Nothing in particular. Haven't seen much of you the past few days. Just trying to look out for our loveliest roommate."

His genuine concern finally compelled her to join them for dinner, if only to quiet his worries. She couldn't bring herself to eat particularly much, but chatting and joking with them was already enough to lift her spirits. Crope excitedly shared his news about a brand new piece that they were working on at the community theatre. While the play was still in the earliest stages, he already had every hope to be cast as the lead. Knowing how long he'd been waiting for an opportunity such as this, Glinda was fast to promise that she'd practice lines and prepare with him whenever his boyfriend was otherwise engaged.

Lying in her bed a few hours later, she tried to focus on the week that lay ahead of her. For the entirety of this long weekend, she'd felt like she'd been temporarily existing in some kind of surreal bubble, so different from her usual day-to-day life. It had been an agonising three days, for which everything had revolved around nothing but her mother and Glinda's struggle to suit her. Despite the obvious upsides, returning to normality after such an intense intermezzo seemed almost difficult, as though she had somewhat forgotten how to be her regular self.

In an attempt to recap some of what happened prior to her mother's arrival, Glinda picked up her phone from the bedside table and began to scroll through her most recent interactions on social media, as well as her texts. There wasn't much, other than a couple of unopened messages from friends she hadn't seen in a while. And Elphaba's texts from earlier last week, of course. Damn. She'd almost forgot about them.

The realisation threw her off a bit. She vaguely remembered deciding to actively try and refrain from contacting or even thinking about Elphaba. Now that she had actually succeeded, she didn't know what to think. Technically, it was a good thing, wasn't it? Wasn't this solid proof that she'd be able to overcome her inconvenient obsession with the green girl, avoiding unnecessary complications to her life?

At the same time, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself. Just mere days ago, she'd finally acknowledged her romantic affections for Elphaba, but within no more than the space of an extended weekend, she'd already forgotten all about them; were her feelings really so fragile and inconsistent? She'd certainly expected having to put up