Chapter Text
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Based on the way Galinda can’t stop staring, it would seem that making copies of legal documents is the most entrancing thing in the world.
It’s not, of course, but the way viridian hands move as Elphaba separates the pages with quick, practiced movements as she sorts through them is…distracting. Especially when two pages get stuck, and Elphaba wets her index finger like she has no idea what she’s doing – she doesn’t, and that’s worse, she’s entirely unaware she has an audience– and then Galinda feels too flushed for the break room, where anyone in the company could see her and she has to look away.
Obviously it doesn’t help that Galinda knows what those fingers feel like inside of her.
She’s not normally this pent up. Really. This is a bit preposterous. Especially because they’ve been availing their little…hookup agreement quite a bit this month, as work stress picks up. But something about Morrible throwing a whole bunch of extra work on her plate with a backhanded remark about how she expects better from Galinda has her needing to blow off extra steam.
“Oz, that shirt does her no favors. Would it kill her to wear something that actually fit her, do you think?” Shenshen asks, sneering. “Have I told you all about the absolutely horrid response she gave me on a proposal for a client? How was I meant to know that plot of land had been set aside by the city for some stupid public works thing? She CC’d them, and Ms. Morrible on the email. Bitch.”
Morrible & Diggs’ Chief Counsel is not a well-liked woman in general, but Galinda suspects Shenshen is more upset that Elphaba caught her on a proposal that would have impressed Morrible, if Shenshen had been able to present it as her own idea. Then, even if it did get shot down for zoning, she’d look like a go-getter.
Galinda offers a non-committal mm. Elphaba is a bitch– all the architects, from interns up to Galinda and Shenshen’s tenure know that– but frankly, there are other, more important Elphaba-related thoughts occupying her mind right now than whether or not the green woman is a stickler for proper legal procedure.
Pfannee is only half listening to Shenshen’s question, of course, making bedroom eyes at Fiyero from the Sales and Marketing department. Which… fine. That’s long since over. Aside from occasional lapses in judgment on Galinda’s part. It still kind of irks her– her supposed friend couldn’t wait until they weren’t having lunch to ogle her ex?
“Mm, right, she is a bitch.” He replies absent-mindedly. “...thinks she's better than everyone. You think it's possible to complain to HR about a demeanor so frigid it borders on a hostile work environment without actually doing anything?”
“Oz, I hope so,” Shenshen crows. “I’d pop champagne, wouldn’t you, Galinda?”
Well, Galinda wouldn't go that far. It would be… well, inconvenient, if Elphaba were to be fired. “I doubt attitude is actionable for HR. She's actually an attorney, did you know that? I'm sure she'd make that hellish.”
Pfannee continues to be only half-engaged. “Hm? What do you mean? Of course she is, she's in legal. They're all lawyers.”
Galinda stirs her iced coffee with a straw, rolling her eyes. Shouldn’t someone in PR know the difference between two words? “A lawyer has a law degree. An attorney has passed the bar and can actually represent you in court. Though I don't think she practices.”
He shrugs disinterestedly. “Huh. So why's she here, doing building permits and contracts instead of in court?” And then he looks at her appraisingly. “And why do you know that? Making friends with the green bean, Galinda?”
Shenshen snickers, because really, she and Pfannee share the same brain cell. Lurline save her.
She huffs irritably, in lieu of an explanation which would only serve to embarrass her. It would honestly throw her work social life into complete disarray if anyone thought she had any sort of connection to Elphaba Thropp.
The truth is that she's seen the framed bar certification in Elphaba’s office, tucked away in a corner behind her desktop monitor.
“Because unlike some of us, Mr. Hall, I pay attention to what people say instead of eyefucking Fiyero! I hear all sorts of things, thank you very much.” She stands abruptly. “And, to tell you the truth, he's charming, but he's just okay in bed. There. I said it.”
Pfannee gives a feigned gasp of outrage. “Miss Galinda! Must you trample a man's dreams?!”
She sniffs airily, turning up her chin. “That will teach you to actually listen to me.” And then she softens, because Pfannee is an old college friend and he'll be insufferable sulking about Fiyero for weeks. “Next time there's a happy hour, buy him a drink and get him started talking about polo. The man plays equestrian sports – if that doesn't scream silver spoon, I don't know what does. But of course, if you're still interested–”
“I very much would be, he's still fucking hot, Galinda!”
“ – then that's really all it takes. He's very easy.”
Somehow, despite the way things ended with her and Fiyero, she can’t bring herself to be scornful. There was some resentment at first, the sting of hurt feelings, but the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to be with him, and the more she realized it was the idea of him. Handsome, charming, well-to-do– the kind of man her parents would want her to marry, but not necessarily the kind of man she hopes to end up with. She’s still trying to figure out what that is. Now, they have a strange sort of friendship out of it, somehow.
“He's a very low-stakes kind of man. Easy to get along with, easy to get into bed, just don't go thinking it means anything, or you'll get your heart broken.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“You're welcome. Maybe after you get it out of your system, you'll actually engage fully in a conversation with me.”
He rolls his eyes, and she flits off, making sure Pfannee and Shenshen are focused on whatever inane bit of gossip has captivated them next, and not on where she’s going.
To speak with Ms. Elphaba Thropp.
The green woman practically glowers at the sight of her, as is their routine.
“Afternoon, Ms. Thropp.” Galinda’s eyes dart to and fro, making sure there’s no one around to overhear. “Working late tonight?”
Elphaba makes a noncommittal sound. “I suppose I can swing that.”
And then with a gruff grunt, she dismisses Galinda.
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To tell the truth, they really can't stand each other. Elphaba finds Galinda gratingly upbeat, and Galinda thinks Elphaba is just plain grating, with her dour mannerisms, stodgy clothing, and general attitude.
The thing between them happened entirely on accident. A strange twist of fate– there was a work happy hour, and Galinda, as usual, was there until last call.
Her rule: If there are people to talk to, she's damn sure going to. Building relationships, making connections– it's all part of the game, and she's naturally a bit of an extrovert, so she has fun doing it too.
Anyway, the bar closed, but she wasn't quite ready to call it a night, not in the quite honestly glamorous outfit she had on, and truthfully there may have been a bit of poor decision making in the mix too.
She'd been dumped rather unceremoniously by her latest boyfriend of three or so months. Apparently, Avaric found a younger woman who was more willing to put out – it was hardly Galinda’s fault she had to fake it even more than usual with him, and thus found excuses not to sleep with him. He was a terrible lay! Handsome, successful, the kind of man her parents want her to bring home, but just… awful, personality wise.
So, single, on the rebound and dressed to kill, she ducked into another bar, a quieter little dive, unwilling to let the night end without finding something to take her mind off things.
She found Elphaba Thropp, she of the world's blandest power suits and permanent scowl, the living embodiment of corporate malaise– in a fucking tight tank top shooting pool with some little carrot-topped, curly haired Munchkin.
(She would later find out this was Biq, from Accounting, a department Galinda avoids like the plague.)
Their eyes met, and though Galinda felt like she was intruding, she also felt fairly inebriated (and generous!) so instead of retreating, she had the bartender send Elphaba another round.
(Galinda would never date a woman, she's not gay, she's just flexible in who she sleeps with. After all, if it's okay to experiment with women in college, then why not sleep with them if it's just sex? This, to her mind, is an eminently practical way of thinking.)
The rest of that sequence of events got a little bit blurry with liquor, but Galinda does remember being…quite a bit brazen with her eyeing of Elphaba. And to her great surprise, it was returned. Things got heated, they stumbled back to Galinda's place, and the sex was surprisingly good. Much like their disdain for each other personally, the physical attraction was mutual.
Thus, they stumbled into sleeping together. Elphaba doesn't date. It doesn't mean she doesn't have needs. Galinda has horrible luck in romance, but she still likes to get laid. They have a common interest (several intense orgasms) that allows them to get over their dislike for one another.
If their schedules align, and there's nothing else going on, either of them can propose meaningless, no-strings-attached sex, and they rendezvous, do their business, and most assuredly do not kiss, cuddle, or otherwise engage in real intimacy.
(It's not that formal but Galinda suspects Elphaba has a list of rules and bylaws kept in her head governing the parameters of what they do.)
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There's a light on down the hall; six-thirty means most of the office is abandoned, and the cleaning people don't get in until much later, but as Galinda surveys the parking lot and sees more cars than usual, she surmises there are a couple stragglers who might witness them.
So she has to wait, infuriatingly. Work has been terrible lately, Oscar Diggs has decided it’s one of the months he’ll be a hands-on CEO, micromanaging the business that runs quite fine without his direct involvement and he’s making Ms. Morrible’s life hellish, so she of course passes it down to her direct reports. All the pressure has Galinda more keyed up than usual– the number of sessions she and Elphaba have had are a notable increase, and they seem atypically ineffective on both parties’ needs. Normally, they go much longer between hookups– she'd feel self-conscious if Elphaba wasn't initiating nearly as often. But the fact that she has company in her misery doesn't really do anything to quell her libido.
Worse still, the walls partitioning her office from the rest of the floor are clear glass, which was certainly a choice when she had them replaced after they broke from a manufacturing defect. She wanted to be able to see the goings-on outside, to see and perhaps a little vainly, to be seen. Now, though, it means she can't even get started while she waits.
Her phone buzzes, distracting her from her frustratingly horny thoughts.
There's a pause, in which Galinda wishes Elphaba was even a bit more communicative, or that she at least learned texting etiquette, because in an informal setting, the hard stop really reads as harsh. Although she imagines there's no such thing as informal settings for Elphaba; everything is business. And then:
She's so prickly.
A text appears from her mother, because of course it does. Larena Upland knows no other timing than horrible timing. It's a familiar refrain: sweetie, do you remember your friend Milla? Her parents showed me pictures of her wedding– her husband is very successful, he's a banker– and of course, utterly bland, but her mother never cares about that.
The reminder is pointed. And of course, here she is, unable to stay in a committed relationship for more than half a year at best, waiting for the office to clear out so she can get fucked by a haughty, rude woman she can't really stand unless they're having sex.
Oh, how pathetic. It almost puts her off the whole night. Maybe she should just go home. Except she asked Elphaba to be here, and if they don't even do anything, then it's time entirely wasted and Elphaba will be even pricklier when they interact next.
She wonders if Elphaba's mother is ever overbearing like this. An image appears to her suddenly. Elphaba in a wedding gown – no, she'd probably wear a suit. She does look quite good in suits, when the garments themselves aren't hideously boring. Her bride, who Galinda assumes would have the patience of a saint, would be overjoyed of course, at the happiest day of her life and Elphaba would snap at the officiant to hurry it up because the whole thing was frivolous.
She snickers. And decides, fuck it, she's not engaging with this game of her mother's tonight.
That sent, she makes her way over to Elphaba’s office on the other side of the floor. It's quiet enough– there are a few people in cubicles, but no one looks up, thank Oz, as she hurries over.
Ms. Thropp does not have a corner office looking out over the city– no, her office is tucked away, blinds nearly always closed like a fortress wall. Very…un-modernized, it probably came with the building and has never once been renovated. Just about the only personal touch is one of those green desk lamps like they have at banks, or old libraries, Galinda supposes. It is terribly boring. An impersonal, unwelcoming place for a woman often described the same.
The lighting is flattering, though. Because of how old the office is, the lightbulbs are warm and yellowy, as opposed to the hideous sickly fluorescent of the rest of the office. Warm light suits Elphaba, Galinda’s often mused– it brings out the warm tones in her skin, making her look more vibrant, and fucking Oz, does it emphasize her eyes, bringing out the gold flecks in the deep, rich green. Lurline’s chariot, Elphaba has pretty eyes.
Eyes which are now regarding her in a mildly disgruntled manner.
“Look who decided to show after all.” Elphaba deadpans, looking owlishly over the frames of her glasses. She leans forward, resting her chin on one hand, elbow on the desk in a manner that shows off the absolutely devastating way the muscles in her forearms tense. Especially with her sleeves rolled up. Galinda would ascribe it to teasing, if Elphaba had ever shown any interest in being attractive to anyone. No, it’s worse– she’s just hot without caring overmuch if that’s the case, an aloofness that Galinda finds maddening (and, if she’s being honest, also sexy.)
Galinda blinks once, to clear her head. Unfortunately, pretty hands and toned forearms have been a weakness of hers since she dated slept with a softball player (how utterly cliche!) in college.
“Yes, well– no one made you stay.”
The reaction that lands with is, as per Elphaba’s usual, nearly stone-still and incredibly difficult to parse. She gives almost nothing away, it’s so damned frustrating. But it hasn’t changed in the slightest during the month and a half they’ve been having sex, and the odds of it changing tonight are slim. Rather than wait for Elphaba’s response, Galinda simply begins unbuttoning her shirt.
That response, she can read. Studying green eyes track down the triangle of exposed skin left as Galinda works, Elphaba’s breathing suddenly just a bit more purposefully controlled. It certainly does something for Galinda’s ego, that she can draw even a little reaction out of someone so stoic.
Elphaba’s lips part, and then, she hesitates for a second, like she's getting control of herself. “How do you want me?”
Fuck, that voice. Low and thick with desire, it’s the kind of tone that instantly gets something going for Galinda. She has to bite her tongue to keep a little sound from spilling out. “Fuck me from behind. Over your desk.”
Elphaba leans over, and a thrill runs through Galinda as she pulls out a familiar harness and pink strap. (Pink, of course, because Galinda bought it– although she rarely ends up wearing it. Elphaba has to be in a specific mood.) But she leaves the toys on the desk. Sauntering from behind it, Elphaba approaches, stopping right in front of Galinda. She’s wearing heels today, oddly for her, a sensible kitten heel, but the modest increase is enough to maintain her height advantage even with Galinda in fairly high pumps.
“You sound desperate.” Elphaba’s hands dart out, catching Galinda’s mid-way down the shirt. Slender but firm, her fingers curl around Galinda’s wrists, pinning them to the wall above her head. “Say please, Elphaba.”
The slight derision in her tone goes straight to Galinda’s core, evoking shivers and whimpers alike. Damn her. Why is she so Oz-damned good at this? Maybe she moonlighted as a dominatrix to pay for law school.
“Please, Elphaba.” Galinda moans, all breathy sighs and fluttered lashes, doing the best she can to tempt the other woman into giving her more.
Elphaba’s teeth find her pulse. They have a no marking rule, but it’s clear how much she wants to, and honestly, if she asked in that low, smoky tone of voice, Galinda would let her do just about anything, she’s so fucking turned on. But Elphaba doesn’t, just kissing her way roughly down Galinda’s neck as she continues to undo the buttons with her free hand. She smirks at the revelation of Galinda’s lacy bra, looking up with lust-darkened eyes.
“Do you really get dressed up just to get fucked in my office? Oz, you’re needy.”
Galinda doesn’t dignify that with an answer – because the answer doesn’t have much dignity to spare. So she wants to look good when she’s going to get laid– it’s not that hard to put on a matching underwear set.
“Oh, shut up, should I show up in ratty boxers– would you like that better?”
The no marking rule almost gets broken, to Galinda’s delight– Elphaba nips hard just under her jaw. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough so that Galinda’s cunt flutters a little. “Mouthy brat. Tell me– and be honest, or I won’t fuck you– Have you been thinking about this all day? I saw you staring at me over your lunch.”
She punctuates this with another hard bite to Galinda’s shoulder, body pressing her up against the wall as her free hand knots in Galinda’s hair and pulls her roughly to the side to give herself more access. Hell and fucking Oz that’s good. “F-Fuck, yes, is that what you want to hear? It’s been a stressful fucking week and it’s only Wednesday and I want you to fuck me until I can’t think– happy?”
Elphaba’s teeth are sharp and defined against her collarbone as she continues downward again, a wolfish grin pressing on Galinda’s skin. “Yes, actually, I am. You know I like when you beg.”
Again, she really is good at this for no fucking reason, Galinda thinks, as Elphaba’s fingers ghost over the hem of her pencil skirt, unzipping it and then letting it pool on the floor. When Elphaba’s the one initiating their encounters, her requests are a lot more tame and usually, she’s not topping; but somehow she knows exactly what Galinda needs in the moment. There’s a reason she can’t quit this little routine of theirs.
With a smooth gesture, Elphaba unclasps Galinda’s bra, the points of her teeth dragging downwards until they’re seizing on her nipple, tugging roughly. She presses harsh, messy kisses around the peaks of each nipple, alternating between biting and scraping her teeth along the tender, pebbled flesh, goosebumps springing up in her wake. Elphaba’s nothing if not thorough, her free hand coming up to pinch and twist whichever nipple is unoccupied as she continues on her quest to bite and suck at every inch of exposed skin. Galinda can’t help but breathe through her mouth, ragged and desperate for more, gasping at every new sensitive spot Elphaba discovers. And then she stops, leaving Galinda whining at the lack of stimulation.
Having teased enough, Elphaba’s eyes flash, undoing her pants and stepping out of them in one fluid motion. “On your knees. Get me warmed up.”
Galinda licks her lips. There’s something weirdly erotic about giving Elphaba head over her panties– it kind of feels degrading in a way that really goes right to her cunt when she’s in this sort of mood. Like she’s just forced to tongue all over the soaked cotton, messy and ineffective, like she’s feral for it.
But she’s denied that particular pleasure, because instead Elphaba affixes the harness to her hips, pink dildo jutting out eagerly.
Oh. She wants–
Fuck, why is that hot?
“No hands.” Elphaba warns, as Galinda’s fingers brush the searing emerald skin of her hips. “They stay behind your back.”
And she looks down with the filthiest stare, as if to say, you know how to do this. If Galinda wasn’t already drenched, that alone would have ruined her panties. She whimpers, and Elphaba drags her sharp nails lightly down the side of Galinda’s face. Her thumb tugs roughly at Galinda’s lower lip, and her lips fall open as if Elphaba has her on marionette’s strings.
From past experience, Galinda knows that the base of the strap rubs right against the clit, giving even more friction when Elphaba’s underwear is still on. So she makes a show of it, licking up the base of the toy, tilting it upward with her lips just a little, to tease Elphaba a bit. Her tongue flicks over the tip, kitten licks that provide just a tiny bit of feedback. Slowly, and seemingly unconsciously, Elphaba wets her bottom lip with her tongue, catching it with her teeth and chewing at it slightly.
That seems like a good sign. So Galinda goes further, enveloping the head of the strap with her lips, twisting her head slightly, noting how Elphaba’s fists clench at her sides– really, that’s a shame, just because Galinda can’t use her hands, doesn’t mean Elphaba should have the same restrictions.
Galinda lets the weight of it rest on her tongue, enjoying the way it stretches her lips as she looks up at Elphaba, doing her best doe eyes. Men usually like that– she’s not sure if Elphaba does, but this is unfamiliar territory for the two of them. Holding the eye contact, she lowers herself gradually until she’s taken the entire length of the dildo, closing her lips around the base and just looking up at Elphaba.
She’s rewarded when Elphaba groans quietly. “Fucking Oz, you are desperate, aren’t you?”
As much as she can with a strap in her throat, Galinda nods slightly, smiling devilishly with her eyes, since her mouth is full.
That gets her what she wants. “Get up.” Elphaba orders briskly, her voice dripping with desire. “Bend over, hands on the desk.”
Galinda scrambles up, unabashedly desperate as she bends over the desk, arching her back as best she can. Like they’re communicating telepathically, Elphaba pushes her down further, hand splayed in the middle of Galinda’s back, nails dragging slightly– not enough to leave marks, yet, but enough to provide a little sting. She shudders eagerly.
Elphaba wastes no time, thrusting into Galinda to the hilt, the heat of her chest scalding against Galinda’s back as she’s pressed into the desk. Teeth find Galinda’s neck again, and she whimpers. “Shameless. Have you been thinking about my cock all day?”
She laughs derisively, stoking the flames of arousal higher in Galinda’s core. Not to be outdone, Galinda throws her hips back, trying to get the strap deeper inside. “Yes, ma’am, please fuck me!”
The pace is frenetic, drawing absolutely vulgar sounds– Galinda can’t remember the last time she’s been this wet, Elphaba is giving her exactly what she needs, fast and rough, ruining her in all the best ways as she jerks Galinda’s hips back into the toy, her grip nearly bruising. “Ma’am? ” She laughs again. “I like that. You just fall apart for me so easily, don’t you, Galinda? Oz, if you could see yourself now– your greedy little cunt stretched around my strap, practically drooling for me. Have you been wet all day, princess?”
Of course the mocking tone does something for Galinda, making her squirm on the silicone. She gasps, and apparently, Elphaba’s impatient, knotting her fingers through blonde hair and pulling Galinda’s head back.
“Yes, fuck, damn it I’ve been turned on since I talked to you, I needed this, harder please–”
Elphaba’s hips crash into her over and over, relentlessly filling her– she makes these quiet little sounds when the strap grinds against her clit and it’s bewitching, if she fucking cums from this then Galinda can’t be held responsible for the mess she’ll make. “You like that? Does my cunt feel good, Miss Elphaba? You gonna cum inside me?”
Oh, Lurline, that groan! Elphaba’s not really a vocal lover most of the time, so something about it is extra arousing, and talking back to her seems to make her thrust even faster. “Filthy.” She growls in Galinda’s ear, teeth grazing the lobe.
“You like it. You’re going to cum inside me, aren’t you, Miss Elphaba? Do it. I want you to. I want to be full of you when you get off. Please, pleasepleaseplease, fuck you feel so good!”
Elphaba yanks her upward, one arm wrapped around her waist while her free hand clasps around Galinda’s throat– not hard, Oz, she could go harder if she wanted, just claiming. Clutching Galinda to her chest, Elphaba thrusts up into her rapidly, lips searing against her neck until Galinda’s whole body locks up, and she has a wet, messy orgasm in Elphaba’s arms, fully quivering as she gushes and goes limp. Shortly after, Elphaba grunts, biting down on Galinda’s shoulder– she can’t really tell if that was an orgasm, or if Elphaba just found it hot, the green woman is too quiet.
And then, unlike her earlier roughness, Elphaba eases her to the desk gradually and gently, careful with her movements.
Feeling totally boneless and coated in a thin layer of sweat, Galinda flops to the floor, leaning back against Elphaba’s desk. “Fuck. I needed that.”
Elphaba takes the other end, their usual bickering hostility always forgotten, at least temporarily, in the afterglow. “Seems like it, the way your legs were shaking. Half thought you’d collapse on me.” She says mildly, just making an observation.
“You’d have caught me.” Galinda says, although honestly, as she says it, she’s not entirely sure. That feels like a significant amount of trust more than they have.
For her part, Elphaba just grunts, reaching up behind herself to snag a pack of cigarettes. She puts one in her mouth, and then glares irritably at her pants when she realizes she’s thrown them across the room. Galinda just stares– she’s not sure if it’s that she’s just learned Elphaba is a smoker, or at the audacity to attempt lighting up indoors.
“What? I earned a smoke after fucking you like that, thank you very much.”
Galinda blinks. “You’ll set off the fire alarm. Do you...regularly smoke indoors?” The incongruity of it all. Elphaba Thropp, staid legal professional, as some sort of chainsmoking rulebreaker– the image is jarring.
“I don’t regularly smoke anywhere.” A flush settles high on Elphaba’s cheeks, and she looks down, her voice sheepish. “Bad habit from university. Comes back at the worst of times.”
“Long week?” This kind of commiseration isn’t natural to them, and it feels uncanny, a little forced, but normal social boundaries kind of erode when both participants are only in bras and panties, sitting on the office floor. At least Elphaba’s dress shirt is most of the way on– how very modest.
“...something like that.”
“If you give me a second to catch my breath, it can be your turn.” Galinda offers. It’s not that she wants to spend more time with Elphaba, but it's only polite, really.
Elphaba looks away, exhaling like there’s a phantom cherry lit at the end of her cigarette. The aroma seems to emanate; the rich, heavy herbal scents of traditional Munchkinlander cigarette blends, with a little of the musk of slumberseed flower as the intoxicant. She always found that odd, the way they mix herbs to both awaken and relax the smoker– it seems like they’d cancel out, but maybe Munchkins know something she doesn’t. Gillikin as a country prefers wines anyway.
“No, it’s late. Are you…free this weekend? I suspect it’ll be a long rest of the week, too.” Elphaba asks nearly coyly, a contrast from her usual gruff demeanor, or the bossy, kind of harsh role she played for Galinda.
“As far as I’m aware, right now I am. Text me when you want me to come over, and I’ll let you know if anything changes between now and then. We should really start penciling these in our email calendars, honestly.”
One of the rules– outside plans come first, unless they’ve set a meeting far in advance.
Elphaba laughs dryly. “Ah, yes. I can’t make that two o’clock, I’ve got a scheduling conflict with…” She pretends to check an invisible calendar, her voice completely deadpan, “...blowing Galinda’s back out. Think we can reschedule? Or maybe a quick sync after I’ve finished with my strap appointment?”
Galinda can’t really help herself; she giggles. A bit in shock, honestly. “Elphaba Thropp, was that a joke?” Is it possible this is a dream? Elphaba making a joke– Elphaba Thropp, in legal, yes, the one who always seems like she’s got a stick up her ass, hates everyone, yes, that Elphaba.
Elphaba rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth still quirked in a half smile. A smile! Who is this imposter? “That’s my yearly quota. Hope it was worth it.”
Another one! Why, if Elphaba could be this loosened up on a regular basis, she might even be pleasant to spend time with! Sure, it’s dry humor, but it’s a marked improvement over Work Elphaba, who communicates exclusively in scowls, blunt remarks, and withering looks. If only this didn’t seem to only happen after sex. “It wasn’t.” She says, putting on an imperious accent. “I demand more.”
And then, shock of all shocks, Elphaba laughs! It’s quiet, really a brief chuckle more than anything, but this may be the first time Galinda has ever heard her laugh in earnest. It’s like she’s a whole other person. “Awfully bossy for someone who was just calling me ma’am.”
It’s not a sharp-tongued rebuke, but a light tease? Will wonders never cease? Granted, Galinda still blushes a little as she sighs. “Riding the high of having my back blown out, I suppose. Come on. You’re making me nervous with that cigarette in here. I can see your willpower dwindling. If we set off the fire alarm, then we’ve got to deal with security and the fire department and a whole crowd seeing us all messy and wrecked.”
Something closes around Elphaba’s eyes, something inscrutable and small, and she nods. They get dressed in primarily silence, handing each other articles of clothing, and then walk out together, Elphaba resuming her taciturn ways. The only signs that they just had sex are her rumpled collar; her shirt, left undone a few buttons down, revealing the lovely, sharp jut of her clavicles, and a hint of cleavage she’d never show during the day; the few braids that escaped her high bun. Lurline’s crown, it’s a good look on her, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth giving her a rakish affectation.
Elphaba lights up as they step outside, one hand shielding the flickering flame from a summer night’s breeze. To Galinda’s great surprise, after taking a long drag, she turns silently, holding the cigarette out in offering.
Galinda, being a nice Gillikinese girl from a well-to-do family, has never smoked before. It's unladylike, her mother says, a filthy habit. But for some reason unbeknownst to her, she takes it, inhaling gingerly. And then, of course, breaks into a sputtering cough. Elphaba claps her on the back, her hand lingering.
“Oz, it’s not pipe-weed, you don’t need to hold it in for so long.” She sounds bemused, taking the cigarette back to demonstrate.
This is…new. Elphaba smoking at all is something she hadn't known about, but opening that doorway has created a strange, alternate space where they are together and not having sex or engaging in brusque, brisk conversations. It's hardly getting to know each other, but it marks a shift nonetheless.
Elphaba makes it look smooth and natural, taking an easy drag. “In, hold a little, out. Damn it, I shouldn’t be encouraging this– it’s a bitch to quit. Take the coughing as a sign to give up while your lungs are still a pretty shade of pink. I shouldn’t even be doing it.”
“But you are.” Galinda observes, not pushing her luck with a full-on question, though she wants to. Something must have caused unflappable, stone-faced Elphaba to resume a bad habit from her college days. Probably the month everyone is having, but that explanation doesn't quite sate the curiosity.
“I am.” Elphaba says with a mild sigh, like she's both a disappointed parent and a child caught smoking at the same time.
Galinda, being a stubborn Gillikinese girl, puts up her nose in defiance. She'll push her luck in at least one regard– prying too much might cause Elphaba to shut down, or leave entirely. “Then I am too. Give it here. I’ll be fine.” The second puff goes smoother, but it still burns on the way down, and the mild relaxation she’s getting hardly seems worth the effort. But, she supposes, being an overworked law student, it would probably help take the edge off…and that’s how habits form, Galinda, take note.
Their new dynamic is as fleeting as it is sudden, like a mirage in the Thursk desert, abruptly returning to normal as a stillness falls over them. To her surprise, Galinda finds herself disappointed by that. It was…interesting.
But the rest of the cigarette passes in silence, Elphaba closing off with each inhale, until, by the time Galinda has decided to head for her car and leave, she’s only given a nod in response.
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