Title: Forget to LiveAuthor/Artist: stupid_lauraFandom: The Wizard of Oz/WickedPairing: very, very vague Nessarose/DorothyRating: GTheme #: 11: a simple mix-upDisclaimer: The Wizard of Oz belongs to the late Mr. L. Frank Baum; Wicked belongs to Messrs. Gregory Maguire and Stephen Schwartz. Notice that they're all male, so I am automatically none of them, as I am a Stupid Laura. Therefore, I don't own their stuff.Notes: I can't even believe I wrote this. What am I, on crack?"Am I dreaming?""Yes, you are. Now sit down, Miss Dorothy." Dorothy was in Munchkinland again, by her house. The place was deserted, though, the way it had been when she'd first gotten there. There was a pretty young woman in a black dress sitting on the porch, looking quite unimpressed. She had no shoes on, and was wearing a pair of black and white striped stockings.A blush rose to Dorothy’s cheeks. She recognized those stockings. "Are you...I mean...you're the Wicked Witch of the East, aren't you?""There are some who call me that," the woman said, a small smile on her lips. "Seeing as how we've never been formally introduced, and we've been brought together by such a traumatic event, you may call me Nessarose. That's my real name."This was quite awkward for Dorothy. She was really at a loss for words. What did you say to a woman whom you’d inadvertently crushed with a house?Nessarose seemed to sense Dorothy's uncertainty. It was Dorothy's dream, after all. "I'm not angry with you or anything. Elphaba might be, but the Munchkins absolutely love you. I treated them pretty badly, you know.""Elphaba?" Dorothy asked faintly.Nessarose shook her head. "My older sister. She's tall, thin, black hair, green skin...They probably introduced her to you as the Wicked Witch of the West.""Yes, Glinda did," Dorothy replied. "Do you—Did you know Glinda very well?""A little. She introduced me to your friend the Tin Man, and she and Elphaba were best friends in college," Nessarose answered. "Shocking, isn't it? The Wizard and Madame Morrible try to cover it up, because it's a real stain on Glinda’s reputation."Not knowing who Madame Morrible was, Dorothy merely nodded. "Miss Nessarose, may I ask you something?""And what would that be, Miss Dorothy?""Could you ever forgive me for dropping my house on you? It was a simple mix-up; I truly didn’t mean to!"Nessarose smiled. "While it was not an accident, I highly doubt that you were at all in control of that house. I don't bear any grudge towards you. Don't worry about it.""Then why are you here?" Dorothy cried. "Why are you here, if you're not trying to haunt me for killing you?"Nessarose pointed to Dorothy’s feet. "It's your shoes. My shoes, really, but I don't really have any use for them now. I can walk now, can you believe it? I couldn't when I was alive. That’s why Elphaba cast a spell on my shoes. Then...things got a little out of hand." The woman looked embarrassed. "Anyway, my soul is bound to those shoes now. For better or worse, I'm stuck with you until you find your way home.""Like a guardian angel?" Dorothy asked."That’s a very eloquent way of putting it, Miss Dorothy," Nessarose replied. "I suppose you could call me your guardian angel." She smiled, and Dorothy smiled back, for the first time since she learned what she had done to the Wicked Witch of the East.It was, Dorothy reflected later, the best dream she'd ever had.