Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rumor spread through the psychology department like wildfire: Professor Upland was wearing a ring. Gold band, pink diamond, and absolutely not there before winter break.

The speculation barely lasted a week before someone asked, “Professor Upland—”

“Galinda, not Professor,” she corrected gently. “We’re all here to learn together.”

“Right. Galinda. Did you…get engaged?”

Galinda’s eyes lit up. “Yes! My girlfriend proposed over break. It was the most romantical—” She paused, but the glow in her eyes didn’t fade. “Well, it’s time for class.”

The story came out in bits and pieces. A day at Galinda’s favorite beach. An expensive dinner. Candles already lit when they stepped into their house, and her girlfriend, down on one knee, declaring her love.

No one had even known that she had a girlfriend. With most professors, that would have been perfectly normal — after all, professors liked to keep their private lives private — but Galinda had never been most professors. She didn’t keep secrets. She treated her students as equals.

And somehow, she’d hidden an entire relationship from them. Even now, with a ring on her hand and the story of the proposal, she refused to talk about her fiancée. She didn’t say her name. She didn’t show a single picture. So they turned to social media. Of course, someone as outgoing as Galinda would share pictures of the love of her life. There would be pictures of the ring, or the proposal, or her fiancée smiling while Galinda showed off her left hand.

All of Galinda’s accounts were private.

Begging was their absolute last resort, but Galinda didn’t give them a choice. “Please tell us about her. We couldn’t find anything online.”

“Did you Facebook stalk me?” she asked slyly.

Two people answered at once — “You taught us the value of primary sources” and “There wasn’t a lot to stalk.”

Galinda smiled. “My fiancée is a very private person.” And, no matter how much they begged, she refused to elaborate.

Their first breakthrough came during the semi-annual Psychology Department Honors Dinner, four weeks into the semester. Galinda, sitting between the head of the department and the honors students, looked more relaxed than she ever had in lecture. When Professor Diggs asked about her weekend plans, she said, “Me and E—” Her eyes went wide, and darted towards the eagerly waiting students. “Me and my fiancée are having an engagement party. It’s a little late, but my family has been so busy lately.”

Of course, it went out to the class group chat immediately.

ATTENTION ATTENTION 🔔🔔🔔
Upland’s fiancee’s name strats with E
*stats
STARTS
with E

Naturally, the chat exploded.

By the end of the semester, the rumors had mostly died down. There were still occasional questions, but Galinda never answered. She just shook her head and said, “You really are persistent.” The year was almost over, and they had nothing but the story of the proposal and the letter E, and an unprecedented amount of secrecy from their least secretive professor.

Then, with just two weeks left in the semester, Galinda announced that she wasn’t teaching her summer seminar. And when they demanded an explanation, she blushed. “I’ll be focused on my wedding and honeymoon.” She paused. “And I’d appreciate if you could wait until after class to share that with the group chat. After all, there is an exam next week.”

She refused to answer any questions for the rest of the class.

The fall semester started, and the entire biology department was on fire. Because Professor Thropp was wearing a plain gold ring — one that she hadn’t been wearing at the end of last year, one that she was wearing on her ring finger.

As dangerous as it was to provoke the professor, they really couldn’t help themselves. “Uh, Professor Thropp. Are you…married?”

“I wasn’t aware that my marital status was relevant to the study of chemoreceptors in the brain.”

“It’s not, I was just—”

“You can give the first presentation in class on Thursday.”

He’d been scheduled to present the following Monday, but he just nodded; arguing with Professor Thropp was a very, very bad idea.

The spring came with a brand new Abnormal Neurobiology class, jointly taught by the biology and psychology departments. It was completely filled on the first day of registration. Everyone knew that it would be rigorous; after all, Professor Thropp was one of the instructors, and her classes were nothing less than brutal. But it was co-taught by Professor Upland — Thropp’s opposite in every way, from personality to teaching style to clothing — and the class was almost guaranteed to be a disaster.

But it wasn’t. Every Tuesday, Galinda talked about symptoms and diagnostic criteria and everything that could be seen. And two days later, Professor Thropp added the science. She put explanations behind everything that Galinda had taught them. It was…strange. The professors should have hated each other, and there were jabs, of course, but the class was interesting and informative and challenging, and absolutely, utterly unexpected.

They weren’t doing anything wrong. Truly. Galinda insisted that her office was open to students, office hours or not, and they’d visited with questions before. Galinda had always smiled and greeted them and brushed off their apologies.

But they’d never heard voices coming through the closed door, and they froze when they realized who they were interrupting.

“You can’t kill the students on the midterm. Honestly, Elphie, we’re professors, not murderers.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Which part?”

“It’s not murder, it’s just—”

“Attempted murder?”

“They should be able to answer all of this. Besides, I’ve heard about your famous midterm reviews.”

“Oz, I hate you. Are you going to help with the review?”

“I’ll sit in the back and give you a gold star if it goes well.”

They carefully backed down the hall before anyone could hear them. The word ELPHIE appeared in the chat twenty times in the next hour.

The first time someone suggested that their professors were married, they were kicked out of the group chat. Of course, they were added back two hours later because everyone needed their notes, but the idea was laughable. Galinda couldn’t be married to the intense, angry Professor Thropp. And Professor Thropp would never tolerate someone as bubbly as Galinda.

Except…they’d both started the year with new wedding rings. Galinda’s wife’s name started with E. E like Elphaba — like Elphie, and that nickname was their most damning piece of evidence. There was no way that Professor Thropp would allow someone to call her by a nickname. Especially not one as perky as Elphie.

“It’s like the scientific process,” someone joked. “We have a hypothesis. Now we need to prove it.”

“Not during Thropp’s lecture.”

“Obviously not. She’d kill us for it.”

“Even if it’s true?”

“Especially if it’s true.”

So they waited until Galinda’s lecture to ask, “How long have you and Professor Thropp been together?”

“This is our first semester teaching together, but we started working on the class last year. Interdepartmental classes have a lot of paperwork,” she joked.

“I meant together as in, you know, like… Dating. Engaged. Married. You know, together.”

For the first time, Galinda’s calm expression faltered, and her gaze unmistakably darted towards Professor Thropp. Professor Thropp didn’t flinch. “We’ve been married since June,” Galinda said lightly, “and we were together for four years before that. Now, can everyone please focus on the subject material? Against my better judgement, the midterm is going to be…rigorous.” There was a hint of a smirk on Professor Thropp’s face, and Galinda shot her an exasperated glare.

Everyone lingered in the hall after class, ears pressed eagerly against the wall. Galinda’s voice came through, quiet and distorted. “You were right about the midterm.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”

“You called me an axe murderer.”

“Okay, but—”

“I don’t own an axe.”

“You can be smug and buy an axe. I’ll even hang it on the wall.”

“Tempting. Can I use it on your friends?”

“Absolutely not.”

“All of this is your fault.”

“Excuse me?” Even through the wall, there was no mistaking Galinda’s offense.

“I’m just saying, my students are too terrified to ask about my life.”

“That’s not a good thing, darling. And they’re our students now.”

Every phone lit up with DARLING. HOLY SHIT GALINDA CALLED HER DARLING.

“The nosy ones are yours.”

AND THROPP LETS HER??? holy?????????? fucking??????? shit???????????

“I know we need to talk about this—” Galinda said.

“Astounding observation.”

“—but we should do it when there aren’t students listening outside.”

By the time Professor Thropp opened the door, the hallway was deserted.

Chapter Text

Galinda wasn’t ready for classes to start. She was prepared, of course — her lesson plans were color-coded, her presentations were formatted and proofread, and her office hours were scheduled — but none of it mattered. No matter how prepared she was, she wasn’t ready for the end of break.

Tragically, the academic calendar didn’t care about her wants. She looked at the clock on her desk and typed a quick message — Good luck to my favorite fiancée on the first day of class. She reread it three times; fiancée was her favorite word in the Ozian language.

“If it isn’t the newly engaged Professor Upland.”

Her eyes flickered towards the door. “If it isn’t the most annoying professor at Shiz,” she shot back, but she was smiling.

Fiyero closed the door behind him. “I need details. And—” he set a coffee cup on her desk “—a peace offering.”

“Bribery,” she corrected.

“Delicious bribery.” He dropped into a chair and leaned back like he had a grudge against gravity. “Do I get a reward?” She hummed, noncommittal, and added a heart to her message before pressing send. “It’s a large coffee. It cost like eleven dollars.”

Galinda sighed. “Oz, Fiyero, it was so romantical. She took me to the beach—”

“In the winter?”

“Yes, beaches in the winter are wonderful, thank you. Anyway, we had dinner at the restaurant where we had our second date.”

“Not your first date?”

Galinda’s cheeks felt warm. Their first date had ended in the emergency room, but Fiyero certainly didn’t need to know that. “And then,” she continued valiantly, “she had Nessa light candles before we got home.”

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?”

She threw a pen at his head, and he batted it onto the desk. “It was romantical.”

“If you say so. Are you telling your students?”

Galinda sighed. Students could be so intrusive sometimes, but unlike certain professors whose names rhymed with Drop, she didn’t mind the questions. She wanted to be approachable; she wanted her students to like her. She wanted them to be engaged, and that meant being engaged with her.

“Of course not. Elphie would simply die if they found out.”

By the end of the first class, her students were buzzing with the news. It was easy to spot — the way their eyes lingered on the ring, the quiet whispers when she passed them, the unsubtle phones under their desks. They only lasted a week, which was both disappointing and unsurprising. “Professor Upland—”

“Galinda,” she corrected gently. Friendly and approachable. “We’re all here to learn together.”

He blinked. “Right. Galinda. Did you…get engaged?”

“Yes! My girlfriend proposed over winter break. It was the most romantical—” She glanced at the clock. “Well, it’s time for class.”

“But—”

She smiled, connected her laptop to the projector, and started her lesson.

“You know,” she told Elphaba, “I was expecting to feel guilty about this.”

Elphaba didn’t look up from her grading, and Galinda kicked her under the table, silently demanding her attention. “They’re students, not your friends.” If Elphaba said one word about inappropriate academic boundaries, Galinda might just slap her.

“They’re fellow academics, Elphie. And you don’t like my friends either.”

“I like Fiyero. Shenshen told me I look like a Victorian funeral director.”

Galinda winced. “Shenshen hasn’t seen you in a suit.”

“Do you think I look like a Victorian funeral director?”

“Of course not, you’re much too pretty for that. You would distract the mourners with your absurd attractiveness. Frankly, you might need to skip my funeral so everyone can appropriately mourn my life. I expect endless crying from all the guests.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, but I don’t plan to outlive you.” Galinda wasn’t entirely sure if that was morbid or romantic, but she was distracted by Elphaba finally looking at her. “Thank you for keeping our secret. I know you want to tell them.” Oz, Elphie could be so sweet sometimes. “Don’t make that face.”

Well. Maybe Galinda would tell them out of spite.

Two weeks later, her students lingered after class, whispering in a way that was certainly not academic. She summoned every bit of her acting skill and asked, “Do you have questions about the homework? Or what we talked about today?”

There was some shifting in the group, and then, “Please tell us about her. We couldn’t find anything online.”

“Did you Facebook stalk me?” she asked slyly, delighted. This was too much. They were practically begging for answers.

Two people answered at once — ”You taught us the value of primary sources” and “There wasn’t a lot to stalk.”

“My fiancée is a very private person.”

“Galinda, please, just tell us something.”

She smiled. “Is there anything else about today’s class?”

“Elphie, they found my Facebook.”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow and went back to cooking dinner. “It is under your name.”

“They were looking for you. Do you know how many friend requests I had to decline?” She flopped down on the couch and threw an arm over her face dramatically. “It was horrendible.”

“I’m sure.” Galinda moved her arm, just enough to glare at Elphaba. Her fiancée rolled her eyes. “You love the rumors.” Galinda just sighed; she really, really did.

Their wedding was the happiest day of Galinda’s life. The ceremony was absolutely flawless, and she almost fainted when she saw Elphaba waiting at the end of the aisle. They spent their honeymoon wrapped around each other, phones on silent, and it was nothing short of magical.

She spent the summer smiling at the ring on Elphaba’s finger. She didn’t care that it was plain; it was hers, and it was on Elphaba’s hand, and it was inscribed with Love isn’t a hypothesis — a play on the first thing Elphaba had ever told her. Galinda had asked, during their honeymoon, for an apology, but Elphaba was the most stubborn woman she knew, and “It was a guess, not a hypothesis. It was entirely unprovable, and I won’t forgive bad science because we’re married.”

Galinda loved her anyway.

Galinda almost fell off the couch when the front door slammed shut. Honestly, she was surprised the walls hadn’t rattled. “Did the door offend you, darling?”

Elphaba trudged into the room, the corners of her mouth twisted down. “My students asked if I’m married.”

Oh, this would be good. “And what did you tell them?”

“That their presentations are moved up.” Galinda laughed. “My marital status is none of their concern.”

“Of course not,” she said seriously.

“Galinda—”

“I’m agreeing with you, Elphie.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“You’re pouting.”

Elphaba scoffed, face glowing like an emerald. “I don’t pout.”

“You do, and it’s adorable. And no one has asked about my wedding ring.”

“My sweet, you told them you were getting married.” Well, that was true, but she did miss being the center of gossip.

“I should start a new rumor. Maybe I’ll have an affair with Fiyero. Wouldn’t that just be so scandalocious?”

“You’re a lesbian,” Elphaba deadpanned.

“It’s for the drama, Elphie!”

“Mhm.”

“I swear, I don’t know why I like you sometimes. Maybe I should run off with Fiyero.”

“Forgive me for being unenthusiastic about your pending affair.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“You know, you’re forgetting one important factor.” Galinda did not like the smirk on Elphaba’s face. “Don’t you need Fiyero to agree?”

Oh Oz, this would never work; her best friend was terrified of her wife.

To her surprise, Elphaba agreed to the joint class immediately. “As much as I hate psychology—”

“Hey!”

“—it’s a good opportunity for students.”

“So you do care!”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Obviously, Galinda. I didn’t become a professor for my health.” Galinda rolled her eyes, because no one became a professor for their health.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

“This is going to be an experiment in interdepartmental teaching,” Elphaba corrected blandly, but Galinda saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Infuriating.

“You’re just allergic to fun.”

“Say that again tonight.”

“You’re fun under very specific conditions,” she amended. “Especially when clothes aren’t involved.”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to undress while we plan the class? Of course, I’ll need to be appropriately clothed to present it to the deans, but I can take off my clothing when we discuss it at home.”

Oz, Galinda’s face was burning. “We won’t get anything done like that.”

Elphaba kissed her quickly, lips twisting into that infuriating smirk. “That wasn’t a no, my sweet.”

Fiyero leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto her desk. “There’s a betting pool.”

“About what?”

“You and Elphaba.”

Oh, that was positively thrillifying. Maybe she wouldn’t need a workplace affair after all. “About what, Yero?”

“How you get caught. Should I bet on you telling them, or a student finding you bent over her desk?”

Galinda blushed to the tips of her ears. They’d never— not on campus, and certainly not in Elphaba’s office. It had a certain appeal, but Elphaba would rather die than get caught like that, even if she wasn’t the one being bent over anything. “This is why Elphie hates you.”

“She loves me. I’m practically competition,” he bragged.

“Get out of my office, Tigelaar.”

“Ouch, downgraded from Yero to Tigelaar? I’m wounded.”

She threw another pen at his head, but he ducked out of the way. “You’re betting on my sex life. And my money is on you outing us because you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Double ouch.” But he was grinning as he left her office, and Galinda smiled to herself. A betting pool. How delightful.

Galinda flipped through the draft of the midterm, and pretended it wasn’t strange to have Elphaba in her office; the collision of work and wife was oddly jarring. “This is too hard,” she declared.

“We’ve taught all of it.”

“You can’t kill the students on the midterm. Honestly, Elphie, we’re professors, not murderers.”

“Highly debatable.”

“Which part?”

“It’s not murder, it’s just—”

“Attempted murder.”

“They should be able to answer all of this,” Elphaba argued. “Besides, I’ve heard about your famous midterm reviews.”

“Oz, I hate you. Are you going to help with the review?”

“I’ll sit in the back and give you a gold star if it goes well.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re smiling.” Well, she did love a pretty sticker. “I promise not to add anything they shouldn’t know.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Galinda frowned and flipped through the test again. “Three gold stars. And I mean it, Elphie, I want the stickers.”

Elphaba smiled and kissed her forehead, and well, it was certainly hard to argue after that.

Galinda had barely started her review when someone asked, “How long have you and Professor Thropp been together?”

“This is our first semester teaching together, but we started working on the class last year. Interdepartmental classes have a lot of paperwork.” Especially when Elphaba took her shirt off during every argument because “You specifically asked for this, and it motivates you to resolve disagreements quickly.”

“I meant together as in, you know, like… Dating. Engaged. Married. You know, together.”

Her smile faltered, and she glanced at Elphaba, who was sitting at a desk at the front of the room. She looked vaguely amused, in that typical Elphaba way where her face didn’t change and she pretended not to care. Oz, Galinda loved her. And wanted to kill her, of course.

“We’ve been married since June. We were together for four years before that. Now, can everyone please focus on the subject material? Against my better judgement, the midterm is going to be…rigorous.” She glanced back at Elphaba, who was smirking. That stupid, infuriating woman.

Then she remembered that it was inappropriate to glare at her wife during a lecture — though smirking was also inappropriate, so really, Elphaba had started it — and turned back to their students.

When the classroom was empty, she looked at Elphaba again. “You were right about the midterm.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”

“You called me an axe murderer.”

“Okay, but—”

“I don’t own an axe.”

Galinda sighed and leaned against the desk. “You can be smug and buy an axe. I’ll even hang it on the wall.”

“Tempting. Can I use it on your friends?”

She thought about Shenshen’s Victorian funeral director comment. Maybe her friends deserved it. “Absolutely not.”

“All of this is your fault,” Elphaba said suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, my students are too terrified to ask about my life.” Galinda wondered briefly if the students were listening in, then decided she didn’t care.

“That’s not a good thing, darling. And they’re our students now.”

“The nosy ones are yours.”

Galinda couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. She took Elphaba’s hand, brushing her thumb over her wedding ring. Love isn’t a hypothesis. “I know we need to talk about it—”

“Astounding observation.”

“—but we should do it when there aren’t students listening at the door.” By the time Elphaba flung it open, the hallway was empty. “Well, they cleared out quickly. Come back here, darling. You still owe me stickers. Three, to be exact.”

Elphaba shook her head, but she pulled out a sheet of shiny gold stars, brand new and sparkling. She placed one on the collar of Galinda’s dress, smoothing it down carefully, and Galinda swooned. Elphaba placed the second one next to it, applying it with just as much care.

Before she could place the third sticker, Galinda leaned forward and kissed her.

Fiyero stuck his head into her office. “Does your wife know about the betting pool? I’d be happy to—”

Galinda threw another pen, and this one hit him in the face.