Disclaimer: Duh. I own a big, pointed, black hat, but that doesn't make me Schwartz, Maguire, or Holtzman. I just pretend I'm witchy.

Note: Just a little Gelphie fluff I wrote for Valentine's Day. There's too much snow to go to school today (or, at least, that's my excuse), so this is what I did instead. Somewhere between "Dancing Through Life" and "One Short Day". One hundred percent fluff; you have been warned!

"May I ask you a question?"

"If you must."

By the time winter had rolled around, the window became the epitome of all their troubles. Galinda complained about it endlessly, being that she was closest to it, and she never failed to mention it. The window was no match for the relentless cold wind, causing the room to leech and unbearable cold, especially during the night. The coolness would seep through the glass, fresh layers of frost forming only minutes after it was chipped away.

No one else's window acted in such a manner, and so the students ran to Galinda's aid, showering her with sympathy and adoration, and she lovingly gave in. Though she basked in attention to the extent she did, she wanted something done about the window. Elphaba began to feel it too, waking up to find herself wrapped in freezing sheets, going to bed with her fingers so cold, they tinted red.

They tried draping thick curtains. Nothing. Tape over the window. Nothing. Thick curtains taped over the window. Nothing. At that standing point, Elphaba decided to drag a weepy Galinda out of their room to Madame Morrible's quarters.

Morrible attempted numerous solutions, including spells (after all, she specialized in the weather), with no avail. Galinda asked, in a most irritating whine, if there were any other rooms they could stay in. Morrible gave a quick scan of her list to certify that, no, there were no other rooms, and she would not let them stretch the strict rooming capacity rule by staying elsewhere. Elphaba was forced to haul incensed blonde away before she could call their headmistress a 'fat, dumb cow head' within hearing range.

In the end, they opted to make the best of a bad situation, deciding that they would both sleep in Elphaba's small bed, much to the green girl's dismay. And to make matters worse, Galinda managed to replace the bleak bed clothing with her fluffy, frilly pink bedspread. The window had been taped, and curtained in several layers.

Though it caused a wee bit at discomfort for both of them, at least they didn't wake up shivering, or see their breath more prominently than they did outside. Elphaba reasoned this was because they were encased, like a green house with heat, but instead, they were a room of grumpy girls, encased in the frost.

So there they were, settled deep beneath the giant, pink comforter, waiting for the oil lamp to burn out because they were too cold to extinguish it. Galinda had her arms tightly wound around Elphaba's middle, practically sharing a pillow, as she insisted upon doing each night for the last several weeks.

"I understand why you wear black so much; you match so well with the sheets. I mean, yeah, your skin doesn't agree with all colours, so you're black, black, black. With the frocks, and the hats, and the shoes, the coats…"

"You going anywhere with this one, Galinda?" Elphaba asked, feeling the blonde's hands jitters on her waist in a habitual on-and-on signal. Galinda always spoke with her hands.

"…Hmm? Oh, yeah. But why do you always braid your hair?"

"Well, it's easy to deal with."

"But do you have to wear it like that all the time? I mean, your hair is just so pretty."

Elphaba tried to hide her blush, the feeling of her braid poking into the back of her head unusually prominent. She lay without ever huddling into Galinda, never admitting how comfortable it was, only ever having done this with Nessa.

"Well, would you rather I let it just hang down all day, all the time? It would become tangled, and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. It would get tangled to the point of balling up at the back of my head, and I'd have to cut it all off. Then I would have no hair at all."

"And they say I exaggerate," grinned the blonde.

"You do. It must be rubbing off on me." Elphaba grinned back.

Rubbing? Not too good to think about right now, the green girl chastised herself mentally, restraining herself from snorting. Galinda was the only friend she ever was this close to, if the only friend at all, therefore Elphaba wasn't always so sure how to treat their relationship. She knew she wasn't supposed to mull over sexual thoughts, yet her mind wandered to it more than she'd have liked. She knew ruining something as good as what they housed with something as petty as hormones would be the death of her.

Galinda paused for a short time; being so quiet that Elphaba imagined she'd fallen asleep.

"Elphie," she squawked suddenly, "may I take you hair out of that atrocious braid?"

"Well, it's a bit late," reasoned the green girl. "And awkward."

"There's still too much oil in the lamp, we might as well do something. I'm far from tired."

"I would rather get up and turn it off," Elphaba moaned in complaint, receiving a glare.

"I'm not letting you go and freeze your butt off over there," the blonde indicated the desk there the light sat. "Besides, if you get up, then I'll get cold, and it'll take twice as long to get warm again!"

"Do you have to touch my hair?" pleaded the green girl, feeling defeated.


"Oh, fine, then," huffed Elphaba, not thoroughly displeased.

Galinda squealed in response, making Elphaba sit up, and slowly unravelling each chunk of hair from the braid. The diminutive blonde used her fingers to brush out the waves braiding created, beginning to babble about how lovely Elphaba's hair was, and how jealous she was of its softness, its sleekness, and the way it fell down her shoulders.

"It's the only black I don't see any problem with you wearing," she said, running her fingers through the thick of Elphaba's mane admirably.

Elphaba never admitted to anyone before that she loved it when people touched her hair. Of course, it didn't occur very often, but when it did, she felt like purring in response. She believed Nessa knew of this, as she would always stroke the inky black locks when she could. Elphaba remembered way back when to her father, who used to pet Elphaba's head when she sat near him. The more she grew up into the outspoken green thing she was, the more he neglected her, remarkably similar to the of the state of the dorm room: cold.

Having Galinda constantly want to touch her hair felt like a blessing to Elphaba, especially with those small fingers. Though she would protest, Elphaba certainly wasn't going to resist. She drifted into her own thoughts, not even pretending to listen to Galinda, eventually closing her eyes and enjoying the pleasurable sensations tingling from her scalp and down her person.

"Elphie, are you even listening to me? Goodness, you're hard to please." Galinda's exasperated tone was high pitched, as though she was attempting to communicate with dogs. Elphaba noticed her voice reached that volume whenever she was really in the moment, or just whining.

"Funny, because one would think I'm rather easy. What with this bed, and us sharing it; my waist, and you holding it; my hair, and you stroking it," Elphaba heard herself say.

She wasn't there. She was somewhere far off, accepted, praised even, for her convictions and difference from the rest of society. She was side by side with the Wizard, in good graces with her father, enjoying life without her usual gloomy demeanour, unable to choose between Galinda and Fiyero.

Galinda's hands dropped from Elphaba's head, and the green girl let the meaning of her words sink in. She blurted them on impulse, used to thinking before using her mouth. Internally beating herself down for being so stupid, she turned to face the blonde.

"I didn't mean that," she apologized quickly, the emerald glow of her face etched with worry. "I say things like that, but I don't mean it."

Galinda sat with her hands in her lap, undoubtedly upset by the pout of her lips. The oil lamp was beginning to reach its end, becoming visibly dimmer, outlining Galinda's face with a pinkness and delicacy.

"I didn't know you felt that way about it, Elphie," breathed the blonde in a timid manner.

"Sweet Oz, I really didn't mean that. I'm sorry Galinda, sometimes I lose my sense. It was at your expense, and there's no acceptable excuse for being so stupid."

Galinda looked devastated. Her pouting was of a ridiculous degree, possibly to hold back tears, but her eyes were angry. She inhaled sharply, much like scolding schoolteacher, or a mother frustrated with her child.

"You are stupid, Elphaba Thropp," she said, a strange maturity creeping into her voice. It unnerved Elphaba, never hearing Galinda's voice in anything but perky and adolescent. "Do you believe I do this with my other friends?"

"E-excuse me?" They had broken apart, the coolness of the drafty air creeping into Elphaba's skin, making her long for contact again.

"I'm not exactly sleeping in the same bed as Pfannee, you know," the blonde elaborated. "I thought I was being very, very foreword."


Had she been hearing right? Was Galinda implying what she thought was being implied? Flashbacks of Galinda gazing at her after the Ozdust Ball, telling her she was beautiful, came into Elphaba's mind. Of Galinda ditching Fiyero on countless occasions to go gallivanting around campus with the green girl. Of Galinda commenting on how suiting the natural hue was on Elphaba, casually running a finger down the front of her jade calf whilst they were studying one evening.

Of her clutching tightly to her waist some twenty minutes earlier.

"Elphie, if you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to go to Nessa and Madame Morrible's quarters and never come back."

Elphaba knew that Galinda was exaggerating, though the worst the blonde could do was spend a few hours away from the dorm before Madame Morrible remembered her rooming capacity rules the green girl was feeling grateful for at the moment. She obliged, capturing the pout in her own lips, feeling the blonde lean into her.

"Oh, finally," Galinda muttered as they parted, attempting sarcasm through her drunken state of arousal that made her eyes fairly invasive to Elphaba.

"Oh, thank the Unnamed God," mocked the green girl, fairly dazed herself, unaware that she used the name of a deity she never had or would invest faith in, but found herself thanking anyhow. There wasn't time remaining to contemplate her words before Galinda drew her in another kiss.

And then the oil lamp burnt out.

And the cold was forgotten.

And all gods, and words, and colours, for that matter, were forgotten.

Aha! Fluffy, no? Do you know what goes good with fluff? REVIEWS!
Happy V Day TO ALL!!