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It happened only once.
As these things so often do, it began with a party and more than a few drinks. Galinda had been magnificent and glittering in a bedazzled sunset-hued dress, her laughter ringing out over the music and lively crowd. Fiyero, charming as ever, matched her brilliance with the ease of someone who had grown up spinning around pretty girls in ballrooms and estates.
Elphaba, unsurprisingly, had begun the evening with a book. And she had wanted to end the evening with that same book, but it had been plucked from her hands not ten minutes after they arrived and whisked away to who-knows-where by a laughing Galinda. She’d reluctantly taken a glass of wine instead, sitting at a corner table as her friends moved to the dance floor.
Fortunately, she had a second book in her satchel, but it had also been abandoned in favor of watching her friends dance. Seeing Galinda throw her head back in delight as Fiyero dipped her low, giggling into her neck, was oddly charming. They moved together like they belonged to the music and knew they had the whole room wrapped around their fingers. As the tempo slowed, their movements shifted into something softer, more intimate—a quiet sway that bordered on an embrace.
Elphaba rolled the stem of her empty wineglass between her fingers, ignoring the familiar prickle of loneliness in her chest.
“Evening, Miss Elphaba,” came a familiar voice from beside her.
The glass flew out of her hand and shattered on the ground, attracting stares from the surrounding partygoers. Boq jumped backwards and immediately launched into a thousand apologies, somehow attracting even more stares with his rambling.
Elphaba sighed, waving her hand with a flick of irritation. The glass shards lifted into the air, glowing faintly before knitting themselves back together and coming to rest back on the table. She turned her attention to the fidgeting man.
“Mister Boq. Apologies for the glass. Won’t you sit?” She said it out of politeness, though her tone suggested she hoped he wouldn’t.
Boq hesitated, his fingers twisting nervously. “Actually, Miss Elphaba, I was hoping…” He trailed off, gaze flicking nervously toward the dance floor. “Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance? Your sister has already gone to bed with a headache, and I thought…”
Her brow shot up in disbelief. For a moment, she thought she had misheard him. The mental image of herself and Boq stumbling awkwardly through a waltz was so absurd it nearly made her laugh.
What in Oz was the boy doing?
“Why?” she asked. “Surely there are plenty of beautiful girls here eager to have their dance cards filled.”
He flushed and glanced at the swaying figures in the center of the room. His gaze lingered on Galinda, and suddenly the pieces fell into place.
“Ah,” Elphaba said, leaning back in her chair. “You thought this would impress Miss Galinda.”
Boq turned scarlet. “N-no! That is—well, she did once suggest I ask a girl sitting alone…”
“How noble,” Elphaba interrupted dryly, opening her book again. “But I assure you, Mr. Woodsman, that my solitude is intentional. Why don’t you take your magnanimity elsewhere?”
He lingered a moment longer, shuffling awkwardly before retreating toward the refreshment table. Elphaba shook her head, muttering under her breath and resisting her magic’s overwhelming urge to send the Munchkinlander flying through the nearest window.
The sound of the music ending pulled her gaze back to the dance floor. Galinda and Fiyero were still swaying together, their movements closer now, their foreheads nearly touching. The sight sent a strange, twisting sensation through her chest that she wouldn’t dare name.
Forcing herself to her feet, she made her way across the room. The irritation Boq had stirred up hadn’t dissipated, and the idea of lingering alone any longer suddenly felt unbearable.
When she reached the dancing pair, she cleared her throat. They turned, surprised but clearly happy to see her among the dancers.
“Elphie!” Galinda squealed, abandoning Fiyero to fling her arms around Elphaba’s neck. The fruity scent of cocktails clung to her breath. “We’ve missed you! Won’t you dance with us?”
“I actually came to tell you I have a headache,” Elphaba began, but Galinda cut her off with a dramatic wail of dismay.
“Oh no, you can’t leave yet!” Galinda tightened her hold, swaying slightly. “Just one dance, Elphie, please? It’ll be fun!”
“I’ll remind you both that I have had half your number of drinks. And I’ve already humiliated myself once on a dance floor this year.”
Fiyero, now standing just behind Galinda, plucked a drink from a passing waiter and held it out with an amused grin. “We can help you catch up on the drinks,” he offered, winking. “And that dance was certainly not a humiliation.”
Elphaba eyed the drink warily, then sighed and took it. “Fine,” she muttered, downing the liquor in one swift motion. “But only because you are both insufferable.”
Galinda let out a delighted squeal, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Oh, Elphie, you’ll love it, I promise! Let’s find something perfect for us.” She turned and began hurrying toward the musicians, leaving Elphaba standing awkwardly with Fiyero.
He tilted his head, studying her with that maddeningly charming smile. “I knew you’d come around.”
Elphaba shot him a glare, but there was no real heat in it. The drink had left a pleasant warmth in her chest, and she found herself almost—almost—looking forward to whatever nonsense Galinda was orchestrating.
“It’s easy, really! Half the dance is made up anyway—you can’t go wrong.” Galinda beamed as though sheer enthusiasm could conquer Elphaba’s skepticism.
Elphaba, however, felt every bit as awkward as she looked. Her limbs were stiff as she tried to mimic the swirling steps of the other dancers, stumbling just slightly out of sync. The lively music seemed to almost mock her.
“This was a terrible idea,” she muttered loud enough for them to hear. “I feel my headache coming back - I think I’ll call it a night.”
She turned to leave, but Galinda caught her hand, touch gentle but insistent. “Elphie.” Her smile was dazzling. “You’re doing fine. Just follow my lead—like I did with you at the Ozdust.”
Before Elphaba could protest, Galinda laced their fingers together and placed a guiding hand on her waist, easing her into the rhythm of the jumps and spins. When they came to a pause, Galinda pulled her back close, almost nose-to-nose now. “See? That’s more fun, isn’t it?”
Elphaba, thrown by near-brush of her friend's face against her own, could only nod mutely.
Galinda grinned and spun Elphaba away in a flutter of black skirts. Fiyero caught her free hand and smirked. “Now follow me. Remember: it’s all about dancing, not thinking .”
Between them, Galinda and Fiyero adapted the dance effortlessly into an intricate weave of three people, clapping, stomping, pressing against each other’s hands, then bowing and spinning in turn. Over and over - catching her, spinning her, spinning each other all around. Elphaba found herself swept into the flow—patterns and music and harmony; stepping forward, spinning away, weaving back together; Galinda’s hand clasping hers, Fiyero’s steady hand brushing her back to guide a turn, her arms linking and unlinking with their; pink and green and blue all blurred together.
As the music quickened, Fiyero’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Ready for something daring?”
“Not particularly,” Elphaba deadpanned.
But he grabbed her waist before she could object, lifting her into the air and dipping her low with theatrical flair. She let out an involuntary gasp, startled into breathless laughter.
Galinda caught her arms as she straightened, and Elphaba instinctively spun her around, eliciting a delighted squeal. Fiyero caught Galinda on the other side of the spin, both grinning.
But alas: that was where the dance ended. The final strains of the tune drew to a close, and the dancers broke into applause. Galinda curtsied dramatically at them both, her skirts fanning out as she giggled. “You were wonderful! You must dance with us more, Elphie!”
Elphaba rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Fiyero threw an arm around both of their shoulders, grinning shamelessly. “You were both splendid, of course, but I think I carried the performance. My technique was flawless.”
“Flawless at crushing toes, maybe,” Elphaba shot back, earning a laugh from Galinda and a squawk of protest from Fiyero (he had, of course, not stepped on any toes).
Galinda twirled away from them, spinning in exaggerated delight as the band struck up the next song. “I could just dance all night! Couldn’t you?” she asked, looking between them expectantly.
Elphaba opened her mouth to respond, but Fiyero interrupted with a groan. “As much as I admire your stamina, Galinda, my feet have officially declared mutiny. And Elphaba looks ready to hex someone if we don’t leave soon. I hate to imagine the national scandal when she turns one of us into something terrible."
"I'm thinking a sack of potatoes," she muttered, smiling.
Galinda sighed dramatically, glancing toward the dance floor before looking back at them. “I suppose it is getting a bit stuffy in here…”
“Perfect,” Fiyero said smoothly, offering both of them his arms. “Allow me the honor of escorting you back to your dormitory. It’s only proper.”
Elphaba shot him a look. “I think we can manage the walk without a chaperone, thank you.”
“Suit yourself. But if any Munchkinlanders try whisking you away for another dance before you reach the door, don’t come crying to me.” He nodded knowingly at Boq, still lingering awkwardly near the edge of the room.
Elphaba shuddered, then took his offered arm with a roll of her eyes. “Fine. But if either of you start singing on the way back, I’ll reconsider that hex.”
They stumbled into the dormitory suite together, laughing and jostling to squeeze through the doorway all at once. Galinda was, in fact, now singing , but no hexes had come out out it yet.
The alcohol’s edge had faded, replaced by the giddy energy of the late hour, where everything felt inexplicably hilarious. When Fiyero stripped off his jacket and a veritable picnic of fruit, cheese, and pastries came tumbling out, Galinda was sent into such an uproar that she stumbled to the ground, clutching at her stomach with laughter.
A half-hour later, they were sprawled out on the quilt Elphaba laid across the ground as a makeshift picnic blanket. Galinda was curled beside her, pink-cheeked and beaming, while Fiyero leaned back on his hands, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. The bottle of sherry sat between them, its contents now dangerously low. The night hummed with a strange, intoxicating warmth.
For a while, they talked—mundane and silly things. Galinda shared the latest scandal overheard from the lavatory, her voice conspiratorial and full of drama. Fiyero followed with a recounting of his daring “heist” of the food, embellishing the stealth required to smuggle the sherry past the “armed guard” bartender until Galinda was breathless with giggles. Elphaba found herself unable to stop smiling, despite herself.
At some point, Galinda had drifted closer, her head now resting against Elphaba’s shoulder. Her fingers traced absentmindedly along the edge of Elphaba’s sleeve. “You should laugh more, Elphie,” she said softly, tilting her head up. “You’re so beautiful when you do.”
Elphaba stiffened, unsure how to respond. Galinda didn’t seem to notice—or if she did, she chose to ignore it. Instead, she plucked another grape from their pilfered snack plate and pressed it to Elphaba’s lips, her smile teasing.
“Eat, darling. You’ve barely had a bite of our feast.”
Elphaba hesitated, then parted her lips, teeth catching and holding the fruit before Galinda could pull her hand away. The gesture startled a laugh out of Galinda, which set Fiyero off too. Elphaba did not laugh. She laid on her back and listened as the replica Time Dragon Clock struck one somewhere in the night.
“You know,” Galinda said, as she settled back again. “We could stay like this forever. Just the three of us.” She rose on an elbow to peer down at Elphaba. “What do you think, Elphie?”
Elphaba opened her mouth to express doubt as to the Dean’s willingness to allow the room to be occupied in such a way - even if Elphaba was Morrible’s favorite student - but then she stopped. Galinda’s expression was startlingly serious, the earlier mirth now gone.
“I think you’re incorrigible,” Elphaba replied gently, smiling at her.
Galinda seemed to consider her for a minute. Then slowly - so slowly like she was afraid Elphaba might bolt - she leaned closer, nose brushing against Elphaba. “Do we not deserve some happiness too, Elphaba?”
Before Elphaba could argue - before she could think - Galinda’s lips were on hers. She tasted like cake and sherry, and Elphaba felt frozen in place. Galinda leaned back, still a breath away, and muttered almost against her lips: “Elphie. I’ll stop if you want.”
Elphaba would later blame the sherry for the way she shook her head, leaning into Galinda’s lips again. Galinda made a soft sound that made Elphaba sit them up fully without breaking them apart, letting her hands rest tentatively on her best friend’s hips. The kiss was unhurried, full of all the warmth that had been building between them all night.
A soft rustle nearby reminded Elphaba they were not alone, and she broke off abruptly, her cheeks burning. Fiyero was still there, watching them with dark, interested eyes.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, very softly.
Elphaba’s heart raced and she wrenched backwards, but Galinda just laughed gently, unfazed. She reached out and took Fiyero’s hand, tugging him closer with an impish grin. “Come here, silly,” she coaxed. “Don’t you want a turn?”
He blinked at her, caught off guard. “A turn, Darling?”
Galinda hummed and leaned in until her lips brushed his ear, her voice soft but clear enough for Elphaba to hear: “I’ve seen you watching . I know how you look at her.”
Fiyero flushed crimson, his dark eyes flashing to Elphaba. She could feel the heat rise in her own face, and the desire to run returned to her. But then Galinda’s hand slid lightly to her waist, her fingers pressing softly into the fabric of Elphaba’s dress. The touch was grounding - a quiet plea to stay.
“Galinda, you don’t—” Fiyero began, but the words faltered. He swallowed hard, trying again. “Elphaba—”
His voice failed him a second time, and he looked terribly flustered.
Galinda sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “For Oz’s sake, you two,” she said, exasperation laced with amusement. “Either work this out, or hand me the sherry. I’m far too tired and tipsy to referee whatever this is.”
That actually startled a laugh out of Elphaba. She turned to Galinda, who winked at her and reached for the sherry bottle, taking an exaggeratedly dainty sip. Her gentle hand stroking at Elphaba’s waist told her what she really needed to hear: it’s okay .
Elphaba bit her lip, still trying to process what was happening, but there was just enough sherry still buzzing in her system—and maybe just enough of her friends’ carefree influence—that she finally decided that she didn’t really care to think at all, for once in her life.
Her eyes flicked back to Fiyero’s, and she gave him a tiny nod.
His own flustered look slid into something more like shock. And then he seemed to compose himself, and smiled at her so softly and charmingly that her stomach flipped. She returned the smile.
("Yeah, there’s the look,” Galinda muttered, rolling her eyes.
Fiyero’s hand reached out, not to Elphaba but to Galinda, brushing a stray curl from her face before cupping her cheek. His kissed her softly, unhurried. Full of a sweetness that made Elphaba’s chest ache to watch.
As they parted, Fiyero turned his attention to Elphaba, expression open and relaxed. His hand reached for hers and their fingers threaded together.
“May I?” he asked, his voice a low murmur.
Elphaba hesitated, dread hitting her again, but Galinda’s hand on her thigh was steady, grounding her.
She leaned forward.
He was an excellent kisser, as she probably should have expected, though she had exactly one other (equally excellent) kiss to base that assessment on. Like Galinda, he tasted like cake and alcohol, making her head spin. As he teased at her tongue, she found herself leaning further and further in, her free hand rising to rest lightly on his chest.
Galinda rested her head against Elphaba’s shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns on her arm as Fiyero pulled back to allow them a breath, then kissed her again, harder. The moment stretched, the three of them a quiet tangle of affection.
When they finally pulled apart, Elphaba let out a shaky laugh, her nerves easing into something warmer, more comfortable.
Galinda tilted her head up to kiss her cheek, then whispered with a teasing smile, “Why don’t we make this a little more comfortable? My bed seems like a better idea, don’t you think?”
Her words were light, but the invitation hung in the air, and when Elphaba met her eyes, she saw heat. Slowly, she nodded again, and Galinda grinned, tugging her to her feet as Fiyero followed.
It happened only once.
And then the Wizard's letter came.