Middle Ground.

A/N I am posting the first chapter of my new multi-chap for you to judge :) I am currently on chapter 23, and there should be about 27. I will finish it as soon as uni allows me, but I would like to know how you feel about it first. So...here it is. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading on :)

Just a warning: This is a bit different. I'm approaching this in a Vignette style sort of thing. The chapters will be short, but that's not because I am too lazy for long chapters. This just works a lot better with the plot and general feeling of this story. I hope you enjoy it, in any case. Even if it isn't what you're looking for.

Disclaimer: I realize it's not mine every day. Props to Holzman, Schwartz and, more than anyone, Maguire :) And to the cast members of all the shows I've seen for making me believe them every time.

They were too close.

But then, they'd been too close many a time before and they'd never come close to actually catching her. So, really, with pursuers as thick and slow as these Gale Forcers, no one could blame her for being slightly careless, slightly cocky and not nearly afraid enough.

She knew these woods like the back of her hand. They were on her side and had been her aid, her guide and her protection since the very beginning. She'd never gotten lost in the woods. She felt at home among trees and bushes and wildlife. The earth beneath her feet, the sky above her head, the green all around her...they belonged to her like nothing ever had. And she belonged to them.

So she wasn't afraid. She'd get out of this pickle as she had gotten out of many in the past years. She'd picked up her speed, broom in her hand, thanking the stars that she'd left her cloak behind because it would have made these sharp twists and turns a lot more complicated.

She was tired, though. Exhausted from running. They were slow on the uptake, but not slow in the field and there were so many of them. Where did the Wizard keep getting them from?

They were green in more ways than one. In more ways than she was. Young, ambitious, moulded to be mean and trained to focus on nothing but her capture. She'd think nothing of it if she hadn't been so exhausted from the pure physical exercise of running. Sure, she was quick, agile and light on her feet but she was thin and bordering on underfed. Which meant she could balance precariously on the thinnest branches in the highest trees and it meant she could fly her broom faster than anyone would ever succeed in doing. Unfortunately, it also meant she tired quickly and lacked the physical strength and stamina required for races such as these.

Not that she'd give up. She'd rather drop off a cliff than get caught by one of those school boys. But she'd have to find a place soon. A place to hide in or to fly from. Whichever came first.

She ran, rushing around bushes, ducking under trees and twisting around rocks and roots that had dug their way up to the surface. She could still hear the footsteps behind her but there were no footpaths anywhere anymore; they'd gone too deep into the forest for that, and it would be getting dark soon, dusk already descending.

She trusted them to fear the night, the dark forest and her enough to turn around soon and head back for the safety of the city. She slowed down a little, allowing herself a quick moment to catch her breath.

And then she heard his voice.

That voice that made her think of velvet and honey and cough syrup. Of poppies and of afternoons in the library, the last sun rays of the day illuminating racks and stacks of dusty volumes. Of an afternoon in the middle of a clearing with a Lion cub and unspoken wishes and a million maybes filling the silence between them.

That voice that she'd heard in dreams and fantasies almost since the moment she'd heard it for the first time. That voice that she'd know anywhere.

Fiyero.

The sting was sharp but brief.

He was one of them, then. It didn't surprise her as much as it should have, but it hurt more than it should too. More than she'd expected it to.

He'd joined the Gale Force. It was bittersweet really, she reckoned, to stand there and hear his voice. To be so close to him without the option of seeing him. For the only man she'd ever felt anything for to be looking for her death.

She wondered if he knew about her feelings for him. If he'd known when she left and when he'd signed up for this job.

Did he know, did the Wizard, that he could be their biggest chance of catching her? That he had the option of being their best shot at her. Did they know that?

She did. She could feel it now, the urge to turn back towards that voice. She willed her feet to run, but they refused to listen. She flattened herself against a tree and sank down, disappearing in the bushes. If she couldn't make herself run, she'd have to settle for hiding.

Had he seen her? Is that why his voice seemed to be getting closer?

"I'll stay here, you guys take that side, I'll take this side. There's nothing here, anyway. She's long gone, as always."

A slap on a shoulder, a cough, and the rustling of leaves.

"Way to motivate, Tiggular. She has to screw up sometime, somewhere. We'll get her."

She heard him laugh and urge them to move. The dying footsteps told her they'd listened.

Why?

She couldn't stop the question from echoing through her head. It came and would not be ignored.

Why was he doing this? Why did he join the Gale Force of all things? Why?

She never would have thought that of him. He had never been...had he? He would never think...did he believe them? Did he think she was what they made her out to be? It didn't help to remind herself that she'd never had any claim to him, that he'd never been hers in any way. You can't lose what you never had, people always said.

But you could. And she knew that all too well.

The footsteps neared but she couldn't be sure they were his. It shouldn't matter, she shouldn't look, but she couldn't stop herself. She peeked around the tree, carefully. Not for the first time did she realize that that which had made her unable to blend in with the crowd, enabled to her to blend in with the forest so well. What had made her life so difficult in everything that passed for normal, made her life so much easier now. The green had been a curse in her previous life but as a fugitive it had served her ridiculously well.

He stood in between the trees, his back to her, looking up, down and from side to side. He was alone but he didn't seem afraid. Nothing moved but the wind that rustled the leaves, as she slowly stood, careful not to make a sound.

What was she doing?

She should be sinking back into the bushes, wait for him to move on and then she'd able to go. To finally resume her flight.

Yet she didn't. She stood there, peeking around the tree, staring at his back.

It was strange, this sense of calm. If he turned around now, he'd look straight at her.

What would he do, if that happened? What would he do if he saw her? Would he really arrest her? Call for his fellow soldiers and haul her off to the palace?

Not that he'd get the chance to. He was alone now and she'd be up in the air before he could finish his call for back-up.

She told herself it was that, that lack of real danger, that kept her standing there. She knew it wasn't. She also knew the real danger here didn't lie in her possible arrest. She was faster than them, faster than him, and she would get away. That wasn't the danger at all.

She didn't linger on that, though, as she watched him, her head cocked to the side, her eyes boring into the back of his head.

He turned to the side and looked up. She held her breath. If he took one more step to the side now, he'd see her.

She should run. Now. Fast.

Now.

His feet moved again, another shuffle towards her, but his eyes were still trained on the sky. Was he expecting to see her there?

Another inch of a step in her direction. He was almost there now. Almost. All he had to do was take his eyes from the darkening sky and look straight ahead.

She knew what she was doing. What she was risking. Not just death. Inexplicably, that didn't raise any fear.

And it was too late now, anyway. Too late to make a move. If she stirred now, he'd see it. He'd catch it from the corner of his eye and she'd be seen. She might as well wait it out.

Thank you for reading :)

Please leave me review and tell me if I should bother to include 'Middle Ground Writing Time' in my schedule ;)

Oh, and if you haven't yet read it, let me recommend Fermataoso's latest works to you. Fantastic. Shot in the Dark and The Toughest Case inspired me to open my Word Processor today :)