The Interview

No One But Us--A Bonus Chapter

Standing in front of the double glass doors of Fiyero's fancy apartment building, balancing several stacked boxes on her flat palm and with bags hanging from both of her numb arms, Glinda had a hard time pressing the after hours call button for the concierge with only her elbow available for the task. When she finally got close and almost hit her target, the flimsy plastic of one of the bags broke, spilling its contents all across the entry area.

"You're kidding me," she grumbled under her breath, barely suppressing a full-on outburst.

Tentatively and with not much grace, she began to lower herself closer to the ground, reaching for a can of energy drink. It was all dented, and the top was bulging precariously. It verged on a miracle, really, that it hadn't exploded on impact. Maybe all hope was not lost then, and she wasn't entirely unlucky.

"Would you like a hand with this, Miss Glinda?"

She looked up at the sound of a familiar voice and broke into a relieved smile. It widened, when the man before her pushed a bag of crisps her way.

"One of yours?"

"Yes. Thank you, Puggles."

Rummaging through the remaining bags, she tried to find space for the extra items.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at my desk," the concierge mumbled guiltily as he picked up a couple more cans, clutching them to his chest instead of making her overload the bags. "Was just making my rounds, you know? Didn't exactly expect anyone to show up in the middle of the night."

"That's quite alright. Not your fault at all. Fiyero's pulling an all-nighter and enlisted my help. It's an annual sort of thing," she explained.

He let her in, then briefly disappeared in the small room behind his desk to locate a garbage sack that could serve as a shopping bag in a pinch. When he handed her the huge, black thing, already filled with the cans he'd gathered earlier, she beamed, thanking him profusely.

Fiyero's apartment was on the ninth floor, just left from the lift. She was grateful for the short distance, since her load had not become a whole lot easier to carry now that she was hauling this big, unwieldy monster along to boot. Reaching his door at last, she freed her hands and knocked. There was no immediate answer.

She huffed a deep breath through her nostrils and once more knocked her dainty fist against the door as hard as she could.

"Fiyero Tigelaar! Open at once. I know that you're in there! Fiyero!"

Finally, she could hear sounds from within, a few clock ticks later, footsteps. The door was unlocked, and a confused Fiyero was revealed, staring at her with bleary eyes.

"Glin, what in Oz?" he asked, the weariness as evident in his voice as it was in his face.

"What in Oz indeed," growled Glinda and cocked her head. "For goodness' sake, this is getting worse year by year."

He shrugged.

"I'm just getting more popular. What is all this?" he asked, gesturing at the things she had brought along.

"Dinner. Breakfast. Energy drinks. Vitamins. Snacks." One bag or box at a time, she shoved her cargo at Fiyero. "Can I come in now?"

He moved the stuff away from the door, holding on to the bags that smelled like fresh stir-fry.

"Are you having some as well?" he asked, scouring the drawer of his small kitchen for a clean fork.

"No, it's all for you. You can put the rest in the freezer if it's too much, although I doubt it. I'd actually just like to get started. I don't have all night, you know?"