Unbreakable

Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.

Screeching gears came to a halt as Oz pulled a lever as hard as he could, grunting with the force it took to stop an entire machine. He smacked the side of it with his palm, breathing deeply and staring hard at the ground in frustration. Why wasn't it working? What wasn't he seeing? With a second grunt, he hauled a sixty-pound bag of steel cables over his shoulder to return them to his spare parts closet within his workshop. Giving the handle a jiggle, Oz fished into his pocket for the key, locking the extra supplies up tight before turning with his hands on his hips, giving his messy room a once-over.

In the corner to his right was a heap of unsuccessful inventions, all scrap metal now — pulleys and screws and tin and wire. Not functional for use, but great for reusing if the inspiration were to strike. Several feet east of his mountain of failure was a workbench that contained many of the tools he'd re-constructed for use in this world. Above were pieces of basic electronic wires and buttons, boards and switches. He was teaching himself how to create electronic visions even Edison himself would be proud of.

To the right of the bench, a prototype of a sonar machine stood, one he'd continued to modify and eventually was able to get it to work. Now every guard in the emerald city had a personal way to monitor the skies for any signs of impending witches.

His current project was in the middle of the room, and he was hoping to make it his most brilliant yet. It's function was to record and store information with stokes of keys, but thus-far, it had been unable to actually save the information for future use. He was growing more impatient with it by the day.

Surrendering to the advanced technology for the day, Oz wiped his forehead with the dingy white shirtsleeve he had on, giving a grimace of disgust when he caught wind of the smell wafting off him. Tearing the offending white garment over his head, he tossed it in a bin of rags that needed washing, rolling his shoulders before turning off all the lights in the room and exiting up a long staircase that led to a cellar-like door that had to be pushed up. Heaving himself out of the workspace, he closed the room behind him and locked his private innovations into the darkness.

He walked through the emerald halls of his palace, careful to watch for staff who occasionally brought items into the north wing they were typically forbidden to enter. Rounding a corner and letting a small sigh of relief leave him that he hadn't been spotted, Oz tore open the door for the grand washroom. He always marveled at the sight of it, still in disbelief that this was his. For years he bathed in rivers or buckets with the Kansas circus, water at icy temperatures that would force him to grit his teeth and barely endure the cleansing.

Here, however, the water flowed from the bottom of the palace upward, heated by pipes and machinery the tinkers had spent careful hours working on. The bath began to fill as he clogged the drain and poured salts into the stream. Placing two green towels next to the basin, he stripped the remainder of his dusty clothing and finally settled himself into the heated water with a contented sigh.

Oz allowed the water to wash over him, removing dirt and grime, giving his skin permission to breathe again and to ebb the grease off his hair. Finally clean, he stepped out of the tub and wrapped one towel around his waist and used another to fluff his hair up as he entered the royal chambers. A smirk befell his face as he took note of a lump beneath the gold-hued blankets on the bed, blonde hair sticking out around the pillows as the figure's back was to him.

He stealthily moved across the stone floor, locating soft pants and nothing else to step into before silently sliding into the covers next to Glinda. She'd been gone for almost a week — diplomatic duties that would have otherwise been his if he weren't dead.

Oz was tempted to wind an arm around her waist, pull her close, plant kisses on her neck, watch her stretch awake and push her nightdress up for passionate, magical lovemaking. However, the logical portion of his brain knew that if he wanted even a glimpse of her skin over the next few days that she'd be home, it'd be best to let her sleep for now.

A rumble gripped his stomach and he winced, realizing it'd been several hours since his last meal and it was hardly night. He was prepared to ignore the plea for dinner when a second gurgle erupted and a whisper came from the body next to him. "Perhaps if you call for Finley we could have supper."

He sat up, pulling the covers down enough to reveal Glinda's face, pale as usual, but marked with dark circles beneath her eyes. "Welcome home," He said quietly, leaning to press a kiss near her temple. She smiled, fighting a yawn as her eyelids fluttered agains her skin. "How long have you been back?"

"A few hours," She sighed, rolling over to face him, pressing her cheek into the pillow. "I'm starved but I was too exhausted to do anything about it."

"Well let's see what we can do about that," The wizard winked with his usual dazzling smile. "I'll be back."

Locating a suitable shirt, he pulled it over his head to cover his bare chest — rippling muscles from heavy lifting. Glinda sighed as her king left in search of food, feeling a lump rising in her throat.

Though nearly a year had passed since Oz's arrival in their land, they were still adjusting to a life where he was presumed dead. Every moment in the public was a lie, all the time they spent loving each other seemed in vain. What was love if they could not share it with the world?

Oz could not possibly begin to understand how Glinda felt. Loving him each day was nearly as painful as memories of her father's death. He spent his time behind closed doors inventing and planning, citing old battle plans and construction archives, attempting to find ways to bring peace to their land. And while Glinda appreciated all these efforts, it was her that the people needed to have a vision, she that they were relying on and depending on and crying on as things continued to go wrong, despite Evanora's reign of terror being over.

Every day out in the Emerald City and the land beyond was another story of a family torn apart and industry fallen and jobs lost and agriculture failing and hopelessness abounding in a way that was leaving Glinda hopeless herself.

"Monkey's going to bring us something up," Oz said with a grin as he crawled up the bed. "But in the meantime, I was thinking..." He lay on top of her, over the covers, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. "You should tell me all about your trip and the adventures I missed out on."

Glinda could not restrain the roll of her eyes as she pulled the sore muscles on her shoulders to tug Oz against her, shaking her head. "Let's not talk about it. Let's just lay here and forget that there are responsibilities in this world we have to attend to."

Oz blinked against the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of the forest that she'd likely spent hours traveling through on her way back to him. He gripped her shoulder, kissing the slight protrusion of her collar bone. Glinda's thin fingers slid through his slightly-damp curls, her well-manicured nails scratching at his scalp. He groaned contentedly, nuzzling further into her. "When you're not here, this palace feels bigger than it really is."

There was that lump again.

"Oh, Oscar," Glinda whispered his name, clutching at him just a little tighter. "I wish there were a way for you to come with me."

His hand moved from her shoulder to push the blanket down past her chest so he could curl an arm around her waist. "To travel all of the Land of Oz with you, Glinda, I could only dream of it."

The lump rose and the dam keeping tears back broke open, as one cascaded to fall against Oz's forehead. He glanced up, hating the pained expression on the face of the woman he loved, wishing he weren't in such a position so he could take it away. He didn't know how to comfort her, aware that wishes and dreams which could not be would only continue to plague her. Instead, he continued to plant kisses against her, waiting for their dinner to arrive so they could fall asleep and forget her distress for a few hours.

China Girl sat on top of Glinda's vanity, watching as her pseudo-mother rubbed soothing creme into her hands. She giggled, joking, "We should get some polish so my hands stay looking nice, too."

Glinda gave her a smirk. "Sweet one, I think you look perfectly fine. Did you have a good week while I as gone?"

"Mhm!" She swung her porcelain legs back and forth. "Finley and I went to the stables to visit the horses. Did you know they come in every color? They're amazing!"

The good witch nodded. "They were a gift for my seventh birthday. My father asked me what I wanted and I told him I wanted a horse in every color, as a joke. I never really cared for birthday celebrations. I didn't like all the attention when I was little...But, he went out and actually found me a horse of every color." China girl laughed again, pulling her fingers near her mouth. "He was an excellent father." Her eyes grew misty, but, tired of crying, Glinda pushed the tears away.

"Finley said that I shouldn't ride the horses alone, that it'd be too dangerous. He said maybe when you got back, you could take me?"

"Oh, dear," Glinda took a deep breath, taking her gaze away from the mirror and giving her 'adopted' child a sad expression. "I'm afraid I won't be in town for long. I'm needed in the Winkie country within three day's time. I have much to prepare. I'm so sorry we don't get to spend much time together. You have fun with Oz, though, don't you?"

"Mhm!" China girl nodded enthusiastically. "It's just a bummer that he can't leave the palace, though. I always have to have Finley take me places. He doesn't mind. But I do think Oz is starting to feel really cooped up, Glinda!"

"I know, I know." Her shoulders slumped, and without her crown, dressed in an old nightgown and leaning back on her stool, she looked anything but royal.

"Do you think maybe sometime we could sneak out at nighttime? Go into the forest? At least so he can get out for a little while? We could go to China Town! Hey! Maybe we could make some repairs and build a little cottage that we could all go to! That would be so fun, wouldn't it?"

Glinda gave a hint of a smile, reaching a hand out to cup the back of China Girl's head, "Perhaps, love. Perhaps some day, when all the politics is laid to bed and reconstruction is complete."

China Girl took the statement for it's intended meaning, her face falling slightly. "It's hard to be a Queen, isn't it, Glinda?"

The witch closed her eyes and nodded. "Especially when your king is presumed dead by the rest of the world."

The little pale-faced doll carefully crawled down to Glinda's lap, maneuvering to wrap her tiny arms around her neck. "At least we know the truth."

"Yes, at least...at least we do, love."

Settling the China Girl back down, Glinda moved to stand, finding something suitable in her wardrobe to wear on her first of three days in the Emerald City before she would have to travel down the yellow-brick road.

"You should wear something pink!" China Girl suggested. "You always look pretty in pink."

"She sure does," Came a voice from the doorway, causing both girls to turn towards it.

"Oz!" China Girl shouted, "You didn't tuck me in last night!"

"I know, I'm sorry. Glinda needed to be tucked in and I feel asleep pulling the covers up," He responded with a wink, giving into China Girl's request to be picked up. She sat on his shoulder, kicking her legs up and down. "Breakfast is served whenever you're ready," He said to the witch who rummaged through her closet, having yet to acknowledge his presence.

"I'm not sure I'll be joining you all this morning. I've got some reading to do on treaties made with the Oogaboo people to prepare for my meeting with their advisor." Her back remained to him, and this didn't go unnoticed by the former circus performer.

"I already had some notes out for you on that—" Oz started, but was quickly cut off as Glinda explained her reasoning to him.

"I know, and I really did appreciate that, but I need to go further back, far before my father's time. They've been a poor kingdom for centuries and I intend on figuring out what we can do to assist them in prospering."

Oz nodded, his lips pressed together. "Will we see you this afternoon, then?"

"Yeah, Glinda, can you come get me from school?" China Girl urged, her eyes sparkling.

Glinda finally turned around and forced another smile, this time allowed herself to agree to the little girl's request. "Of course I can."

"Oh, all the children will be so excited to see you!"

The blonde-haired witch nodded, "I'm sure they will be. Now, you head off so you can get yourself to class. I will see you both later on."

With a last, longing look from Oz, the two bid her a good-day, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She tore a dress form it's hanger, roughly removing her nightgown and pulling a simple traveling gown on, knowing that if she left now, she'd have enough time to accomplish what she needed to before joining China Girl at the end of her school day.

Though she was exhausted, Glinda picked up her wand from the end table near her bed, focusing her energy on a teleportation spell. She couldn't use them for traveling long distances, but to escape from the palace, it was a useful trick. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to be covered in a thick, white mist and with a gasp, she was taken through space and ejected just south of the poppy fields, landing on her backside with a thud. She stood up, brushing dirt off her rear and quickly made her way through the thick forest, along a path well-worn by once-white shoes.

She paused for a deep breath when a clearing came into view, a small pond surrounded by green foliage and flowers that had grown feet-high since she planted them as a small girl.

It was only here, in this space, where she had felt safe away from the watchful gaze of her father. Here, where she felt the energy of life that the land of Oz had to offer. Here, where she felt her mother's protection enchantment — the kiss from birth, working, running through her veins and keeping her alive through all the twists and turns and ups and downs and joys and sadness she'd experienced in her years.

She closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun, the energy the forest around her could provide. Feeling rejuvenated, she stepped further into the clearing, watching as long blades of grass danced in the breeze. Daffodils were full, standing tall and proud of their beauty. Even the Dandelion weeds were at attention, prepared to greet Glinda with the presence they had to offer.

"Thank you," She whispered, settling herself neatly into the grass, crossing her legs one into another and placing her hands on her knees, her back tall and to the wind.

Eyes closed, she began to murmur magical nonsense words under her breath, attempting to focus every last bit of her presence into the spot on her forehead that was just beneath the jewel of her crown. She tried not to let her frustration wash over her, knowing even the slightest hint of emotion would prevent her from reaching her goal. She had to achieve this, she had to erase all feelings and thoughts and simply be if she wanted to attain the peace she needed to carry on as the ruler of Oz.

A light streamed out from her jewel, and with a final breath, Glinda's eyes rolled back in her head and her body collapsed backwards as her soul left temporarily.

Oz was practically pacing a hole into the ground in back hallways of the palace library, where Finley was actively offering advice and possible solutions to Glinda's perpetual misery.

"Well, sir, perhaps this is too invasive of a question, but are you sure you haven't you know...found yourself becoming a father?"

"What?" Oz nearly roared, "No! No, she-she's not...we're not having a baby. There's no time for that."

"Just because the timing isn't right doesn't mean it can't happen," The monkey shrugged.

Oz's eyes were wide as he considered the notion that Glinda could be pregnant. He thought back to previous weeks — they hadn't been intimate in over a month. Surely he'd have noticed by now if she were expecting.

"Monkey, I hope to any gods out there that you are wrong on this count. Besides, I think she'd be able to tell by now if she were. Magic and all."

Finley flapped his wings and scratched behind his head. "I think I'm fresh out of any other ideas, Oz. What if you just you know...gently broke your concern for her well-being to her tonight while you make her feel nice and comfortable. Draw her a hot bath, give her a back massage, women love that. Build her up with compliments before you ask her to speak her mind. That should make her feel like she can trust you."

"Well after almost a year of being together, I kind of figured that trust would already be there..." He gave a great sigh. "Finley, I'm worried she's just at the end of her patience and knowhow for dealing with this bureaucratic world she's found herself tied up in. And I do my best to help, but since I can't actually be where she is and give on-the-spot advice..."

"I know sir," Finley shrugged once more. "I think that until she tells you what she needs, though, it's going to be this continual dance of exhaustion for both of you. Her with travels and meetings, and you with the listlessness you feel."

Oz couldn't agree more. Tonight, he was determined to get Glinda to open up to him.

Glinda was weightless as she moved through non-linear space, feeling freer than she had in months. Unable to contain the smile that washed over her, she let out a small giggle, wishing she could feel so light and at-ease every day.

Possibly hours passed as she floated and attempted to see reason, a thought she'd missed or an idea that had escaped her in solving her plight. Yet, as she felt her soul looming closer to her body, no conclusions had been drawn, no problems taken care of, and she was no closer to peace than she had been before draining herself of energy.

As she fought for a way to stay disconnected, she grew closer to her body by allowing her emotions to take hold of her. Letting out a pained yell, she sat up, back to the present world, screaming out tears as she pounded a fist into the dirt below her.

The grass stopped dancing. The birds no longer sang. The warmth of the sun had faded, and she was once more trapped in hopeless place.

Storming back into the castle as the sun fell over the Emerald City, a sight she had once adored to behold, the witch tossed open each door she walked through with a stroke of magic from her wand, paying no attention to the castle caregivers who paid their respects to her as she entered.

She prayed that Oz would not be in their chambers, but found herself disappointed by not only his presence, but at herself as she caught sight of China Girl's expression as Oz read from a book to her.

The magician looked up from his reading for only the slightest of moments before his eyes darted back over the words, his prosody as animated as possible in attempts to cheer his little girl up.

Glinda moved silently passed the sofa they were curled up on and into the bathing chambers where she turned the water to flow as hot as it possibly could. Crumpling her dress and under-garments up and off, she stepped into the lavender-scented tub, trying not to screech out as the temperature scorched her pale skin into a searing red. A sadistic part of her enjoyed the pain, telling her she deserved it, and upon turning the handle to stop the water, she found herself surprisingly relaxed.

Wishing she were eleven months in the past, when everything seemed manageable, Glinda allowed herself to relive a moment with her wizard in the same spot she was now...

"Oscar!" She'd giggled his name, feeling skittish and shy, despite the fact that they were both already undressed and in the bath.

He wore a mischievous grin while his hands were hidden beneath the bubbles in the water, Glinda reeling in a laughing fit as his fingers danced along her sides. "Who'd have thought Glinda the Good was so damn ticklish?"

She rested her curls, limp from the heat, against his shoulder when he ceased his actions and drew her body closer to his. "Beautiful," He whispered, a hand gliding up between her shoulder blades. She felt a shiver, not from the cold, but anticipation as his other hand traveled down her hip and towards her navel.

Present-time Glinda shook the memory. Surely, Oz would want nothing to do with her or her body tonight. Not with the attitude she'd been giving the past few weeks when she'd been home. Sinking so only her eyes were above the water, Glinda continued to soak in the misery she was creating for herself.

"Why is Glinda mad at us?" China Girl questioned as Oz pulled her blankets up around her little body.

"I don't know, sweet pea." He took a hefty breath before settling down beside her, prepared to press a kiss against her porcelain cheek. "But no matter how she feels about other things, you know that she still cares about you. That won't change."

China girl gave a little nod, her eyes cast to the floor. "I think maybe you should just try really talking to her. So what if she yells, you know? Maybe that will make her feel better. You know I always feel better when I yell."

Oz gave a small chuckle, agreeing. "Yes, you do. Alrighty, sleep tight, little one."

He left the room that was much too large for such a tiny girl, turning off the lights before heading down the hallway, surprised to find Glinda already out of the bath and dressed in nightclothes. Though, from the expression of anger on her face, she was far from ready to sleep.

Trying more of a fatherly approach than a romantic one, Oz took a leap of courage by starting, "Glinda, it looks like you're really upset and would like to talk—"

"Upset," She spat, her eyebrows raised. "Upset, it looks like I'm upset."

"Hey, hey," Oz closed the distance between them with two large steps, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder, only to have it ripped away as Glinda moved to the window, watching a darkened sky. "I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

At the statement, Oz could practically feel the electric pulses of anger coming off the witch in waves, her shoulders rose and fell quickly as her breathing was labored in attempt to keep calm. "Everything is broken! This city, the Munchkins, the Quadlings, the Tinkers, the Faries, the Tootenhots, the Oogaboo, the Thi people, the Nomes, the animals, the Hoppers and Scoodlers, and Skeezers and Whimsies," Oz kept a straight face as she rambled, the language used within Oz was still baffling to him, "The Rigamores and every other race under the sun and under our kingdom needs help and assistance and I can't give them what they need and you just get to stay here all day! I need your help, Oz, you were supposed to save the people, not me! This isn't how my father said it would happen! I wasn't brought up to take care of everyone, it was supposed to be the savior, the Great and Powerful Oz, but you can't save them!" Angry tears spilled and Glinda turned around to glare at the man whom she'd professed her love to, feeling every ounce of that devotion bubble up and out like an explosion of magic.

Most of Oz knew that this was a reaction to frustration, as she'd said long before, he wasn't the wizard she was expecting, just the one she got. He knew that he could only do so much, invent so many machines, try so hard to be useful while he was unable to join her in reconstructing the land and remaining a peaceful existence for her people — their people.

"You should be with me, standing by my side, backing me up, helping me make plans of action on the spot, prioritizing important projects and letting people know that there is still hope!" Fire swelled in Glinda's eyes as viciously as the elemental magic Theodora could unleash. Oz's face suddenly fell as she unleashed bitter truth, "But you're dead, Oscar! You're dead and every day I have to live with that!" She sobbed and her arms flew wildly as she talked with great animation, unleashing every feeling she'd had. "I have to go to far away places that I've never been, meet with dreadful people that have little respect for me or for my father's legacy, and if you were there, things would be different, we could prove them wrong and create a stronger kingdom, but you can't! You can't be there for me when I need you!"

Oz felt his heart breaking for the beauty before him. She was a mess — hair wet and stringy and disheveled, face red and blotchy with tears staining her cheeks. She let out a loud cry before finally losing any energy she had left, flopping to the stone floor in a pile of raw emotion. He knew that the stress was becoming too much. He'd anticipated a breakdown for weeks; but never like this. Never something so out of control, such a primal reaction.

Swallowing hard and trying to decide what to do, he took a few steps forward before crouching in front of the queen, tilting her chin up, surprised when she didn't swat his finger away. "Glinda, I want you to tell me what you want from me. If you want me to go, I will leave the palace and hide out somewhere until you are ready to see me. If you want to end our relationship, I..." He choked on a ball of tears in his throat. "Glinda, I will walk away and try to move past this—"

"No!" Glinda cried, shaking. "No, Oscar, don't you dare leave me! You are the only one that I want, you can't leave, I—"

"Sh, sh," He knelt, rubbing her shoulders. "I was just putting options on the table for you to chose from, Glinda. I would never, ever leave you, not unless that's what you want." Oz was quiet for several minutes, waiting for his queen to compose herself as best she could. When her sobs broke into sniffles, he continued to talk as gently as possible. "You have been under so much pressure, for so long. From the time that your father was so wrongfully taken, all those years you spent trying to keep your people safe, despite vicious lies from Evanora...all the time you spent helping me come up with a plan to save your people, the sacrifice of your life that nearly took it all away, and now the endless months of negotiations, and planning and constructing...Glinda..."

He sighed her name and sat criss-cross in front of her, pulling her thin body into his lap, rocking her and kissing her forehead as she rested her tearful face against his chest. "Glinda, I am so proud of you, for all you've been through and accomplished. You are the definition of goodness, my love. And everything you've done to this point and beyond proves that every day. You put your people first, but my love, today, you need to put yourself first."

She looked up at him hopelessly. "When do I have time for that?"

Oz kissed her temple. "You have three weeks before you need to meet with the Oogaboo people. I've rearranged your schedule and given you time to take to rejuvenate and relax before diving into the next kingdom to save. You deserve time to take for yourself, to ensure that you can give your best for your people."

"Oscar," She whispered, her lower lip trembling. "I don't deserve you."

"No," He smirked. "You deserve better." She was about to protest when he placed his finger against her mouth. "You deserve someone who can stand by your side and support and care for you while you are taking care of the responsibilities that shouldn't be yours. And you're right, love. I am dead. And there is nothing we can do to change that, and I'm so sorry."

"I didn't mean it, I—"

"Sh, sh..." He kissed her again. "It's true, though, but..." Pausing, he stroked her hair. "I've been doing some investigating...what do you know about transformative magic?"

Glinda shrugged. "That it's very complicated and requires an extremely accomplished witch to be successful."

"Good," Oz smiled, his teeth glistening in the way that she had come to miss when she traveled. She couldn't help but smile back, even if it was strained. "Because I happen to know an extremely accomplished witch who I believe can make it work. That way," He started, gently removing her from his lap and standing to pull a book out of a pile he'd taken from the library earlier in the day, "I can come with you, on your upcoming journeys through the merry land of Oz."

Glinda swallowed hard as the book was placed in her hands and her fingers traced the title. Transformation: For Humans and Animals. "Oscar, this can be very dangerous."

"Well," He shrugged. "I was kind of hoping you'd practice first. Finley could be your first victim."

Glinda slugged him in the ribs with her elbow, giving him a hard stare. "I suppose I could at least give it a try, given that I will have three glorious weeks off, thanks to the wonderful Wizard of Oz." She pressed a kiss near his mouth. "Who says you don't grant wishes?"

He grinned, taking the book back and tossing it onto the sofa before pulling her forward by her hips. He brushed his lips over hers, smirking as she kissed him back, her arms making their way over his shoulders and her back arching up. "I think I have an idea for a great way to start your three weeks of vacation."

Glinda gave a little groan, "Now? Dear, I'm a mess."

"The most beautiful mess I've ever seen."

The witch rolled her eyes and gave Oz a firm push backwards so he was flat on the bed, wearing a smile bigger than the time she first told him about the true prophesy.

She tugged her nightdress up, earning a choking noise from the wizard as she had nothing on underneath. Straddling him, she began unbuttoning his wet, wrinkled white shirt.

"Are you going to be a good witch or a bad witch tonight, hm?" He teased, running a hand up her arm and over her shoulder to her back, his thumb digging into a spot that was notoriously sore near her neck.

"If only you could be so lucky to have one or the other," Glinda said huskily, pushing the sleeves over his wrists and tossing the material onto the floor before pushing him up the bed and closer to the pillows, giving her more room. Her lips crushed themselves against his and he sucked in a breath, pushing his left hand against her lower back, bringing her to sit against his pelvis. His right hand tugged at her damp, blonde locks, pulling in the way that he knew would cause her to squirm against him. Sure enough, she wiggled against his hips, forcing him to groan and remove one hand from her back to take off his pants.

"Glinda," He breathed her name, opening his eyes to get a good look at her face, now not only blotchy from her meltdown, but flushed in desire. She really was a mess.

"Oscar," She said with a hint of sass while pulling one of his hands to her breast, sighing as it molded against her, groping and kneading before he sat up to flip her beneath him, despite a brief struggle as she tried in vain to remain on top. As his mouth settled over a breast, Glinda sighed and scraped against his back with her nails, causing his hips to buckle against hers.

Her head rolled back as he moved to nip down her stomach and above her belly button, leaving scraping teeth marks as he went. For being Glinda the Good, she was one of the baddest ladies he'd ever bedded.

She cried out his name as his mouth went even further south and his hands pressed hard against her hips so they'd keep from bucking up. Her ankles came to rest around his shoulders and she groaned loudly in pleasure. "Oscar," She sighed, reaching down to pull on his hair, panting as he continued in a way that only he could.

After another minute, she shook beautifully around him, pulling his face back up toward her as she breathed hard, eyes closed, trying to rejoin him in the same plane of existence he was in.

His hands were all over her sides, rubbing soothingly against sensitive skin, still on fire from the place he'd just taken her. Glinda opened her eyes once more, smiling devilishly before climbing on top of him again, pressing her hands against his shoulders as she positioned herself and groaned when he filled her, causing her eyes to widen while she adjusted. He whispered to her, his hands guiding her hips as they rocked together.

While she moved against him, Oz considered the truth she'd spoken earlier. Sure, to the world, he was dead. Nothing more than an ethereal spirit to guide them.

But now, for Glinda, he was a lifeline — a saving grace she had to fall against when she could no longer handle the realities of their land.

He increased their pace, moving harder against the woman he loved, calling her name before finishing within her, sighing as he made an attempt to catch his breath. She moved against him a little more before collapsing herself against his now-slick chest, their heartbeats in a sporadic synchrony.