Author's Notes: This work was heavily inspired by both Edward Hopper's Nighthawks and Wolf Wondratschek's poem based on the painting, excerpts from which are quoted below. Cross-posted to my account on AO3.

You admire this painting's composition
but what grabs me is the erotic pleasure of complete emptiness...

I bet she wrote him a letter.
Whatever it said, he's no longer the man
who'd read her letters twice.

Wolf Wondratschek, "Nighthawks: After Edward Hopper's Painting"

Most nights at the Ice Palace were routine; the small establishment was almost always packed with regular patrons, long-established drunkards, and the odd lone wolf. Elsa took their orders, made their poison, and cleaned up after them (occasionally a broken heart, more often than not, another less metaphorical body part). It didn't faze her; she had seen worse over the years since she had taken over the place from her parents.

Sometimes they got those guys, the ones with poor alcohol capacity and even poorer judgment, who found it hard to get over the fact the person helping them drown their sorrows was also very female, and very attractive.

Usually they weren't much of a problem; the bouncer (nicknamed Marshmallow by someone with a questionable sense of humour) was quick to settle any problems before they got out of hand – if Elsa didn't do it herself (in her Ice Palace, she was the Snow Queen and her rule was absolute).

But that night was anything but routine.

"Martini. Shaken, not stirred." The order was accompanied by a fit of giggles, enough to leave the auburn-haired girl (she was clearly an adult, but to Elsa, her demeanour suggested otherwise) breathless.

Elsa shook her head. "Very clever," she said dryly. "You sure you're old enough to be out this late, honey?"

The petite redhead – now precariously perched on the stool – let out an unladylike snort that had Elsa somewhat taken aback. "Well, this is the first time I'm here in a bar." She patted the counter with both hands for emphasis. "Call it a rite of passage or something, whatever makes you feel better, sweetheart."

"Are you always this charming?" Despite the question, Elsa found herself staring; auburn hair in two braids, blue-green eyes that changed colour with the light, impish smile. It made for an attractive package. But then she wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of the alcohol on the girl's person. It was strong, even from across the counter.

"But unfortunately, you're also dead-drunk. I cannot, in good conscience, give you any more alcohol, no matter how beneficial it would be to my bottom line."

"Oh, come on!" Leaning over, the girl scrunched her face up into a ridiculous expression; all pouted lips and squinting eyes. Elsa blinked in mild confusion.

"… it isn't working, is it?" muttered the girl almost to herself.

"Whatever that's supposed to be, no."Elsa folded her arms across her chest, trying her best not to laugh at the now-crestfallen look on her face. "You looked like you got hit in the face with a frying pan."

The girl scowled, but her eyes were alight with mischief. "It's a sexy smoulder, not blunt-force trauma! You're supposed to be seduced by my charms!"

Elsa chuckled dryly, amused by her misplaced optimism despite herself. "I hope you get your money back." Nevertheless, she filled a glass with soda and set it before the girl, who threw her a wink she clearly thought was seductive.

It looked like she was trying to squish a fly with her eyelid.

"Are you a natural blonde, or have they managed to bottle awesomeness?"

"Excuse me?"

She made a vague gesture at her head. "Your hair. It's gorgeous. Also, those eyes. Like, wow."

She brushed off the clumsy compliments with the practiced ease of one who did it on a regular basis. "Well, thank you. And yes, they're natural."

"Cool. Literally. Y'know, like ice? Bcause your eyes are ice-blue? Oh, never mind," drawled the redhead, propping up her head on her hands, "you wouldn't get it, because you didn't appreciate my smoulder."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "So what's your story?" she asked, trying to move the conversation away before she could be targeted with any more drunken pick-up lines, already turning to draw a pint for another patron. The girl hummed and downed her soda without realizing it wasn't an alcoholic drink. The blonde arched an elegant eyebrow.

"Where to start…? My boss is the biggest prick in existence, yet no one's informed Guinness world records. We're nowhere near world peace, and no matter what Geri Halliwell says, it isn't raining men. Oh, and, I walked in on my fiancé in bed with my best friend, a week after he popped the question." She sighed heavily, toying with the empty glass. "Hey, do you think Guinness would take that as well? A cheating record?"

Before Elsa could come up with an adequate response, the girl followed up with a quick, "What's your story?"

The bartender bit back an incredulous laugh. "Sweetie, I own this place. Unlike the rest of you, I have a perfectly good reason to be here." But she reached over to pat her shoulder. "Sorry about the jerky ex-fiancé and ex-friend, though."

"Thanks," mumbled the redhead thickly. Her eyelids were beginning to droop, and the bartender guessed the alcohol was starting to catch up with her. "Anyway, we can skip right to the conclusion that the universe sucks. Can I have another drink?"

Her face was screwing up again, like a discarded piece of paper – attempting another smoulder, thought Elsa, pressing her hand to her face, the gesture loose and undecided. She didn't know what to make of this girl – the usual cold shoulder that awaited overly forward patrons was nowhere on her mind. But instead of the frying-pan-flattened face Elsa was expecting, out came a stream of words.

"Actually, no. Chocolate. D'you have chocolate? Can I have it? It's good. Chocolate is like my favourite food of all time. Please tell me you like chocolate too. God, I'm rambling. You're really beautiful. Wait, what?"

The bartender slammed her mouth closed before a giggle could escape. "Actually, I'm Elsa," she deadpanned, whisking the empty glass away from the girl's loose grip before she could drop it. "And thank you for all the compliments you've been showering on me all night, but I honestly think you've drunk enough to impair your eyesight."

It seemed that Elsa's banter was wasted, because all the redhead did was slump to the counter, giggling helplessly. "I'm Anna. I think." The thought of her name seemed to set her off into a fresh round of laughter. "Not even sure… Whoo, what was in that drink you served me?"

"That was just soda, Anna," shot Elsa pointedly. "You've definitely had enough for one night." The blonde rolled her eyes.

"It's never enough…" sighed the girl, and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey. Don't sleep here."

Soft snores answered her. The bartender sighed deeply.

"Always on my shift, without fail. Why doesn't Kristoff get his fair share of the crazies? Why didn't I listen to Papa when he offered to pay for college?" She hopped over the counter, yelling for Marshmallow. "Hey, Marsh, give Kristoff a call, will you? Tell him I'm leaving early and get him to cover the rest of my shift for me. I'll return the favour another day. Until he gets here, you're in charge. Try not to go crazy with power."

The bouncer raised a fist in acknowledgement.

"Okay, here we go…" Elsa slung one of Anna's arms over her shoulders and heaved the sleeping girl off the stool. "Phew. For someone who smells like she's drunk her weight in alcohol, you don't weigh that much."

Anna mumbled something incoherent.

They staggered outside and got into a cab. "Where to?" asked the driver.

"Uhhhh… crap. Hang on a sec." The blonde girl rummaged through Anna's handbag, searching for an address of some sort.

She found a phone. The wallpaper was a photo of Anna, her arms around a young man's neck; the man had auburn hair and sideburns. Elsa wrinkled her nose. Even if she hadn't heard the girl's sob story, she would have guessed that the man was a heel. It had nothing to do with the fact she loathed sideburns on men.

Actually, her loathing extended to the entire male species, save Kristoff, but it was probably an over-generalization.

"Anytime now, blondie. Just tell me where milady wishes to go," drawled the driver peevishly. Elsa responded with a middle finger in his rearview mirror, and he chuckled. "Real charmer, aren't ya?"

She ignored him. Her rummaging finally produced a planner, and the owner's address scrawled in the back cover. Elsa whistled. "24 Upper Street."

"Real swanky neighbourhood. I reckon you lucked out there." He leered at Anna's sleeping face in the mirror.

"Speak again for the duration of this ride, and I will personally ensure you get your tip – shoved up your ass so deep, you'll be spitting coins for weeks." Elsa hadn't meant to be so curt, but it had been a long day, and taking drunk customers home wasn't exactly her idea of fun.

"Okay, okay. Jeez."

Anna muttered something in her sleep. Elsa eyed her warily – her face was a light shade of green.

"Hey – if you need to puke, give me some sort of advance warning, okay? So you can aim out the window, and not all over. This asshole's given me enough trouble as it is." The driver snorted.

She opened her mouth – and vomited all over the back of the cab and Elsa.

The blonde girl and the driver swore simultaneously.

"You're paying for the cleanup, blondie," grunted the driver. "I can't afford it on the lousy fare you gave me."

"Shut up, and wait out here for me, then we can discuss your stupid cleanup," growled Elsa as she carried Anna into the house.

Big, dark, and foreboding, the house reminded Elsa of the classic horror movies she used to watch, back when the psychopathic killers that lurked within were the scariest thing in her life. The bartender fumbled in Anna's bag for the keys, getting stains over the expensive-looking leather. She grimaced.

The house was empty. Somehow, she managed to find Anna's bedroom, an opulent-looking affair with carpeting and tapestries. Elsa gave a low whistle; one tapestry looked like it would buy her entire bar.

"You're a rich little girl, aren't you?"

Anna mumbled incoherently and nuzzled Elsa's neck. She jumped.

"H – hey!" she stammered, blushing violently. "I'm filthy – no thanks to you, really. Here, let's get you cleaned up and then you can sleep it off."

Anna's room, expensive-looking as it was, had clothes and other items strewn haphazardly around, better suiting its occupant. Elsa dragged Anna over to the adjoining bathroom.

She wet a washcloth and mopped at the sleeping girl's face and neck, relieved to find a bath wasn't necessary. Elsa caught a whiff of herself and winced; she, on the other hand…

The bartender lugged Anna over to her bed and tucked her in. "That's done," she sighed, pushing her braid out of her face.

Asleep, Anna looked soft and vulnerable. Elsa's annoyed expression softened somewhat; as the sleeping girl shifted and mumbled, the blonde reached out to tug the blankets back up.

Just my luck, thought Elsa. My first time being alone with an attractive girl in god knows how long, and I'm not getting any. Elsa smiled ruefully. She remembered their one-year anniversary clearly; Elsa had just moved in the previous weekend, and to celebrate, they were having a quiet dinner in. On her way home, Elsa had caught herself looking at rings in shop windows a few times…

Then scant weeks later, everything had changed.

The scowl returned to Elsa's face. She knew better than to get close to girls who came in to forget their troubles; she had plenty of troubles of her own.

The bartender banished the gloomy thoughts with a wave. "Night, Anna," she said, turning off the light and making her way back outside.

"Hello?" Elsa rubbed her temples as she listened to the voice on the phone, feeling a headache coming on. She'd been asleep three hours. Three precious hours, after the ordeal of squabbling with the cab driver, getting herself home and cleaned up. Not nearly enough to emotionally prepare herself for this latest bombshell.

"Kristoff," she said, "did I hear you right? Did you just ask me to come in on my day off? The one day when I take a break from running the place? When I allow my sanity to recover from dealing with the crazies that keep us in business?"

"Hey, don't take that tone with me, it's not my fault," he said gruffly over the phone, once Elsa had finished the rest of her rant. "Grandpa Pabbie's sick, and I'd better get over there just in case…"

She sighed. "Fine, fine. Go out there, and don't come back until the old man's dead or back to wheezing in the old folks' home." But there was a warmth underlying her words, and she could almost hear him smile.

"You're the best boss ever, Elsa. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Whatever. Just be thankful I haven't fired your sorry ass."

She flung the phone back on the nightstand, ignoring the muffled thud as it overshot and fell to the floor, and plunged face-first into her pillow.

So it was routine again; Elsa pouring the drinks, nursing the drunks, and fending off the unpleasant hangers-on. Rinse and repeat.

"Hi, Elsa."

Elsa looked up. The little redhead from the other night was there at the bar, seating herself clumsily.

"Hey," said Elsa. "Anna, right? Feeling better?"

"That's me. And –" There was a dull thud echoing through the wood of the counter; the girl winced and bent to rub her ankle, flushing scarlet as the bartender did her best to hide a smile. "Uhm, anyway… I think so? Actually, I don't remember most of what happened last night…"

The bartender laughed. "You remembered my name and how to get here. Two out of three isn't bad at all."

"I wouldn't have forgotten your name for anything!" mumbled Anna, blushing hotly.

Elsa grinned in spite of herself, amused by the girl. "Here," she said, sliding a tall drink over the counter. "Long Island iced tea, on the house."

"Oooh, thanks!" said the girl excitedly and took a sip. "Mmmm. Delicious. Okay, be honest with me. It was the smoulder, wasn't it?"

"You wish."

Another man seated himself and placed an order.

"Don't drink that all at once. I'll be right back," remarked the bartender absently in Anna's direction, busying herself with pouring his drink. After serving up a round of beers, Elsa turned around – to find the glass empty, and Anna smiling sheepishly at her.

The blonde woman sighed.

"Could I have another one?" asked the redhead.

"Only if you promise not to pass out on my counter again."

"I promise!" This was backed up with such a radiant smile, Elsa was momentarily taken aback.

"Uh. Okay. Sure," she mumbled.

"Closing time," sighed Elsa, "finally." She cast a long-suffering glance at the tipsy, giggling girl still seated at the counter.

Kristoff sauntered over, wearing a grin. "The Snow Queen's finally thawing," he remarked. "Been a while since I saw you take an interest in a fellow human being."

"Hey, Kristoff. How's Grandpa Pabbie?"

"Doing fine, it seems. He chased me out after a bit, saying there's no need to be here, Kristoff my boy, I'm as tough as a mountain troll, I won't die that easily, not while you haven't saved up enough for my funeral," drawled the young man in a mock-deep voice. "Anyway, enough of us and cranky old farts. Tell me more about that lovely lady you've got your eye on."

"I haven't got my eye on anyone; she's just…" She sighed again. "Look, I don't have to explain anything to you about how I treat paying customers, right?"

"If she was a paying customer. I saw you." The burly young man punched Elsa's shoulder in what he intended as a friendly gesture; the young woman scowled, massaging her arm. "It's okay, boss, I won't judge."

"You know, I would have told Papa not to hire Grandpa Pabbie in the first place if I'd known I'd be saddled with you. That punch hurt, you big goof. And I'm just being nice. She walked in on her fiancé in bed with her friend."

He whistled. "Ouch."

"Precisely." Elsa looked away.

Kristoff patted her arm. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I just… I'm fine." She clutched her shoulder dramatically and glared at him. "My shoulder, however…"

He waved it off. "You'll live. Anyway, what're you going to do with her?"

Elsa whirled around. "What do you mean, what I am going to – " The bartender sighed, taking in the sight of Anna, face-down on the counter, snoring softly. "Oh, hell."

Once more, Elsa found herself lugging the redhead back up the pathway to her large home. She left Kristoff as master of the bar, albeit still nursing a sore arm; the result of his loud reminder to her to use protection. As long as he could still pour drinks, she wasn't too concerned about his physical condition.

At the very least, Anna wasn't dead drunk this time; she staggered up the walk, only needing Elsa's guiding arm to prevent unfortunate collisions with assorted objects.

"This is becoming a habit," muttered the bartender, simultaneously fumbling for the lights and keeping a firm grip on Anna's upper arm. "And I do not mean that in a good way. You hear me, Anna?"

"Shhhhure. Whatever you shay, Elsha."The redhead patted her arm, finishing her slurred sentence with a giggle and hiccough. Elsa rolled her eyes.

"From now on, you are getting nothing but soda in my bar. You hear me? Soda."

"Shhhaken, not shhtirred!" chirped Anna. The blonde groaned.

Finally, she managed to wrestle Anna onto her plush bed. Elsa sat down beside her with a sigh, taking a quick break before she went on her way.

"There's always no one home," said the blonde, addressing the incoherently mumbling girl on the bed. "What happened to everybody? Your parents? Siblings, maybe? Don't tell me you live alone? I'm sure you're not that bad…"

She trailed off. There was a framed photo on Anna's nightstand; it showed a teenage Anna, flanked by an older man and woman who could only have been her parents. She had her mother's delicate features and her father's teal eyes.

Elsa's eyes flicked over the photo – and stopped when she saw a newspaper clipping, tucked inside the frame. It was still quite recent – the date scrawled in pen on the back was barely a week ago. 'Tragic Family Accident' it said, and the photo accompanying it was of Anna and her parents.

The blonde woman bit her lip.

"Oh, Anna," she said softly, glancing over at the bed.

The redhead muttered something in her sleep, rolling over and clutching the pillow. Elsa bent over and brushed the hair from her face before leaving.

The next night, like clockwork, Anna was at the bar with a ready smile and a complete memory blank of the night before. Elsa said nothing, but served her another Long Island iced tea (generously watered-down, but the redhead didn't seem to notice).

"I really love this," said Anna, sipping her drink.

"I'm not surprised. It's rather sweet, so it's very popular among our female patrons." Elsa neglected to mention that this particular concoction – especially made for Anna – contained as much sugar as a candy store.

"Well, mostly it's because you made it." Her cheeks were pink, and she busied herself with the ice in the glass.

Elsa blinked, thrown off-balance. "Um, I don't think – "

Anna giggled suddenly. "I'm kidding, Elsa. You're cute when you're flustered." She toyed with her lemon wedge garnish, squeaking in surprise when she accidentally dropped it into her drink.

The bartender fumbled for words, her usual scathing wit having deserted her. "Oh." Blushing, she went back to focusing on her work, acknowledging orders with a casual wave of her hand, seemingly able to interpret garbled and slurred drink requests with ease, and welcoming regulars back with a smile and a ready glass of their drink of choice.

It was a while before the flow of orders eased off, and Elsa returned to the auburn-haired girl.

"You were in here last night, and the night before. Don't you need to work?" she commented.

"Of course I do," shot back Anna, finishing her drink. "I'm quite the responsible, mature working adult. You're not going to dictate what I do with my downtime, are you?"

"Not if it pays my rent."

She giggled. "You're good at this," remarked Anna, gesturing vaguely at the bartender, her head resting in her hand, both elbows on the counter. Elsa raised an eyebrow and swatted at her.

"Elbows off, the counter's filthy. And it's a living, so I'd better be good at it." Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Unless you're talking about my ability to mix drinks, and not my razor-sharp wit?"

"Both. No, I mean it!" she laughed in response to Elsa's pointed look. "I worked as a barista at my local coffee place for a summer; I never took my morning latte for granted again."

"A barista? You don't look the type."

"Then what type do I look like?"

Elsa drew a tankard of beer, smiling with satisfaction as the head came out full and foamy. "Hmm. I figured you wouldn't need to work summer jobs."

"… Is it that obvious?"

The blonde had to laugh; the expression on Anna's face was comically dejected. "I've been sending you home for the past two nights, so does that count as an unfair advantage?"

She flushed, hiding it behind her glass. "Oh."

Elsa smirked, enjoying being on the offensive side for once. "Didn't you wonder why you woke up in your bed the next day, or were you too busy nursing your hangover?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Anna suddenly grinned, though her face was still red. "Isn't it part of the bar service? Also, I was more concerned about waking up alone." She winked. "Maybe I should arrange something with the bartender?"

Game, set, and match to Anna. It was Elsa's turn to be flustered; she could feel the hot flush creeping down her neck. "Well, uh…"

"I like it," said the redhead suddenly, pushing her empty glass forward. "Can I have another?"

Elsa wasn't sure what Anna was referring to until the second sentence registered. "Oh. Okay. Coming right up."

"I thought you'd be sober enough to go home on your own tonight," grumbled Elsa as she hauled Anna out of the backseat of the taxi. "Whoever said third time's the charm was a liar."

The smaller woman giggled – it had become, more or less, her standard response to Elsa's grumbling sometime between the second and third drinks. "Bar service, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you ought to be tipping me then."

"Sure." She leaned heavily against the blonde, both arms thrown around her shoulders. "Let me find my handbag first."

"I'm just going to comment that, in all my years of handling drunkards, you're the first person I know who can get drunk on sugar," said Elsa dryly. "Also, your handbag, miss, is safely out of your reach, just in case you were contemplating making drunken texts or calls to miscellaneous people."

"Oh. Hey, now that you mention it…"

"Don't. You. Dare."

Anna tottered towards her front door, leaning against the wood for support. "Well then, maybe I can pay you with a kiss?"

Blood rushed to Elsa's face. "W-wait, what?" she stammered.

She made a face, a sloppier version of her smoulder, and swayed forward so her arms could loop themselves around Elsa's neck. "A kiss or two, then who knows what else?" Anna purred, stroking Elsa's cheek.

The blonde's mouth opened and closed in rapid succession, even as Anna's face drew dangerously close…

"I-I have to go! Good night!" Elsa unlocked the front door, disentangled Anna's arms from her neck, and departed the scene with unseemly haste.

She didn't stop running until she reached her apartment and locked the front door, her back resting against the wood.

Elsa let the tension and fatigue catch up with her, her knees giving way – she slid to the floor, legs tangled beneath her body.

"Oh, Belle," she said softly.

Much to her dismay, Anna remembered nothing of the night before (apparently, alcohol, even in the minute quantities Elsa allowed her, was more effective than Soviet brainwashing to the redhead's system) and was a cheerful fixture at her counter the next night – completely oblivious to Elsa's nervousness.

"You look tired, are you alright?" she asked as Elsa set a Long Island iced tea in front of her with a trembling hand. The blonde jumped slightly, her eyes darting up at Anna, and then away.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She quirked a smile. "Just feeling a little run down of late."

The concerned expression Anna wore suddenly morphed into horror. "Oh god – I did something to you last night, didn't I?"

Elsa's eyes darted to the redhead's, and slid away just as quickly. "N-no, I – "

"Elsa!"

Thank you, she mouthed, turning in the direction of the caller, eyes widening as she caught sight of him. "Oh, hi Kristoff. Today's your off day, isn't it? What're you doing here?" she asked in falsely-cheery tones. Her glare, however, was asking the same questions in a more ominous fashion.

He brushed off Elsa's stare casually. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here, even though I work half the shifts," he deadpanned, climbing onto the stool beside Anna. "You got the night off, remember? I was supposed to be working your shift tonight?"

"What? I don't –" hissed Elsa in an undertone.

Kristoff winked at a curious-looking Anna and extended a hand. "Hi, I'm Kristoff. I like to think I'm a bartender here along with Elsa, but in reality I'm her indentured underling."

"Anna. I'm a customer," she laughed, shaking his hand. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Long enough to know that you shouldn't be here," interjected Elsa, reaching across the bar to shove Kristoff off the stool, letting herself out a second later. "I'll be right back, Olaf" she shot at the startled-looking busboy. "Hold down the fort. The customers can afford to wait for their drinks for a couple of minutes, anyway."

"H – hey!" protested Kristoff.

She hustled him out the back door into the alley - no small feat, given he was easily a head taller, and weighed twice as much as she did. "What. Was. That." Elsa practically growled at him.

He shrugged. "Making friends."

"That wasn't making friends! That was – I don't know – honestly idiotic, even for you!"

"I was just introducing myself." Kristoff's face grew serious. "What's wrong with that, Elsa?"

"I just – I don't know!" She threw her hands up.

"You need to move on, Elsa," he said gently. "It's been – what? Two years?"

"One year, six months, and five days," answered Elsa.

"You counted."

"How could I not?"

He sighed, his breath coming in a large cloud. "She isn't Belle. You know that."

"I'm not stupid." Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I know Belle's… gone, and she isn't coming back. I just… I'm not ready for something right now."

"Elsa…"

"I'm beginning to forget what she looked like, Kristoff."

He rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "You don't have to let her go."

Tears glistened in her eyes. "You said I shouldn't dwell on it," snapped Elsa. "Now you're telling me that it's okay to forget her?"

"There's a difference between forgetting, and moving on. You know that, Elsa." His brown eyes bored into hers. The blonde sighed, and breaking eye contact, pressed her forehead into Kristoff's shoulder. "Advice from your love expert friends?" she mumbled into his shirt.

"Not me, that's for sure," he laughed, patting her back. "But it's good advice."

She hummed thoughtfully.

"Anna looks like a nice girl," said the young man. "It can't hurt to make friends. No one's asking you to rush into anything."

"She is nice," admitted Elsa. "But that's precisely why I can't do this to her."

"What are you – "

"I'm taking that night off after all," she muttered. Before he could protest, she pushed past him and was gone.

Elsa stopped sending Anna home after that, making Kristoff, or even Marshmallow do it. Despite Anna's attempts at making conversation at the bar, the blonde bartender was cold and aloof, busying herself with other customers.

One night, after she closed up The Ice Palace, she turned – and almost ran into a familiar redheaded girl. Elsa swore.

"Jeezus, Anna. Don't scare me like that," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Hurt shone in the young woman's eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Elsa?"

"Huh?"

"You don't look me in the eye anymore. You don't even talk to me. Did I do something to you while I was drunk? Is that it?"

"N – no! You haven't done anything…" Elsa trailed off. "Look. It's late. You should be heading home soon. Need me to call a taxi for you?"

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," insisted Anna. "Just tell me what's bothering you, and you'll never have to see me again, okay?"

"We don't have anything to talk about." Elsa looked away, supremely discomfited by the hurt in the redhead's eyes. "It's not you, it's me…"

"Elsa." Much to the blonde's horror, tears were beginning to shine in the younger woman's eyes. "Please, Elsa, don't shut me out. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for whatever I did."

"I don't want to hurt you!" blurted out Elsa, and bit her lip.

"And avoiding me isn't hurting me?"

The blonde's arms wrapped around her middle. "I just – I can't do this again. I can't deal with this right now."

Anna took another step forward. "Yes you can, and you will." Warm lips covered Elsa's.

It took all Elsa's willpower not to push her away, because every instinct was screaming for her to hold on and not let go. She kissed back fervently, her fingers threading through the soft red hair framing the smaller girl's face, driven on by the heat pooling in her abdomen and lower still –

Anna gasped a little when Elsa sucked on her lower lip, and the blonde took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She could feel her hands around her back, her fingers tangled in her clothes.

The redhead broke the kiss first, her lips moving to Elsa's neck, the tip of her tongue licking the soft skin.

"Anna…"

"Mmm?" Slowly, she looked up, her eyes still hazy with desire, hair mussed, lips swollen from kissing. Elsa knew she looked the same. She made an effort to gather her thoughts, which had been completely scrambled from the kiss.

"I just… I don't want to lead you on; you see, I – "

Anna flushed bright red. "I – oh god. You aren't – you don't – I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking – " she blurted out.

"No!" Elsa's mouth fell open as she realized what was going through the younger woman's mind. "That's not what I – Anna, wait!"

But she was gone, moving surprisingly fast for a woman that small.

"… Damn it."

"Hello."

The line was bad, but through the rush of static, he recognized that voice. "Kristoff."

"Elsa. What's up?"

Another rush of static but he figured it was a sigh. "I need a ride back home."

He caught the dull edge to her voice. "Elsa, did something happen?"

"It's a long story. I'm at the Ice Palace."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

He pulled up outside the little establishment and waited. Elsa emerged from the shadows and slumped bonelessly in the front seat, smoothing her fringe from her forehead.

"How much did you – "

" – I didn't drink. I just… I kissed Anna. Or rather, she kissed me first, and I kissed her back."

"Oh." Kristoff turned in on a quiet street. "Since you look like crap – no offence – I'm taking that it didn't go well?"

Elsa made a noise of irritation, rubbing furiously at the bridge of her nose. "It was my fault," she groaned. "When she kissed me first, I couldn't think; I just... responded. And I was trying to tell her I wasn't ready for things to move so fast, but before I could say anything else, she got the wrong idea and ran off."

Kristoff winced. "Ouch."

"I just – damn it. She didn't even let me finish what I was trying to say. She just went and jumped to conclusions, that irritating little – "

" – whatever it is you're going to say, I know you don't mean it," interrupted Kristoff, pulling up outside Elsa's apartment. "Now go take a shower, get some sleep, and call her tomorrow morning. No, wait, call me first. Okay?"

"You're so damned practical."

He pulled up outside her apartment. "It's a gift, the same way yours is your complete social ineptitude when it comes to girls. Now shoo."

She was sleeping when Elsa came in, but the soft click of the door roused her.

"Elsa."

"Belle." The blonde woman smiled, seating herself on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling today?"

"Same old, same old." Belle's eyes were soft. "And you?"

"Idiot. You should be worrying about yourself."

"What for? Soon it won't matter anymore."

Elsa looked away. "Stop that. You know I hate it when you start talking like that."

"You're going to have to accept it, Elsa."

"I can't. I don't…"She stopped talking abruptly, biting her lip. "I'm not ready."

"No one is. It just happens when it does," Belle sighed, reaching up to tease a flyaway lock of hair away from Elsa's eyes. "You're going to be just fine."

"Easy for you to say," retorted Elsa before she could stop herself. She blanched, catching Belle's hand before she could draw it away. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean –"

"It's alright." She smiled slowly. "Hey, have you looked in a mirror recently? You look like hell." Her fingers traced the dark circles under Elsa's eyes, standing out in stark relief from her pale face. "It's a wonder you still have customers – I bet they walk into your place and think their sins have caught up with them when they catch sight of that."

That got a chuckle from Elsa. "So Kristoff tells me."

Belle's smile faded slowly. "Promise me something, Elsa. And before you say anything," she interjected quickly, seeing the look on the blonde woman's face, "just hear me out. Please."

"… Fine."

"Promise me you'll let me go."

Silence fell in the room. Elsa's mouth hung open in shock, tears already sliding down her cheeks. "How could you even – how can you ask me to do something like that?" she whispered.

"Elsa, listen to me. You're young, you've got your whole life ahead of you. Even though – I would have loved nothing more than to be a part of that life…" Belle's voice faltered, and then continued, "... that's just not going to happen. So this is the next best thing."

Elsa looked completely taken aback for a moment before forcing out a choked laugh. "Trust you to say something like that, Belle."

"I do try," she replied with a serene smile that warmed the blonde's heart. "I'm not asking you to replace me, Elsa. In fact, I'll come back and kill you if you tried. I just… need you to move on with the rest of your life and be happy, live your life, do all those clichés." Belle shook her head. "God, I sound like one of those cheesy romance movies."

"The very worst," agreed Elsa, taking Belle's hands in hers. They were thinner than she remembered and felt like they could break at any moment; a pale shade of what they used to be. It was a sobering reminder.

"You didn't promise," said Belle faintly. She was beginning to doze off, her eyelids drooping, but she was forcing herself to stay awake. "Elsa…"

"You're exhausted. Get some sleep." Elsa leaned over and kissed her forehead. "We'll continue our talk later, okay? I love you."

Nodding slowly, she closed her eyes.

They never continued that talk.

Elsa woke with a start. The tears still stained her face, and she scrubbed at them with her sleeve. Not a dream – she could have gotten over it quicker if it wasn't real – but a memory.

"Damn it," she said, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow as though trying to force the tears from coming.

Elsa opened her eyes and blinked slowly, taking her time to come back to consciousness. The pounding noises still didn't go away, meaning…

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," she grumbled, pulling on a shirt and a pair of shorts. "I just woke up, give me a break – "

Anna stood there, her face flushed.

Elsa's jaw dropped open.

"H – hi," muttered Anna, looking at some point over Elsa's shoulder. "Can… can we talk?"

Wordlessly, the blonde stepped aside and let Anna in, walking to the kitchen. "Would you like a drink?" asked Elsa. "Coffee?"

"Yeah," smiled Anna, "coffee sounds great."

"Okay." Elsa busied herself with the coffee machine. Her dexterity at handling drinks extended to even drip coffee, and the auburn-haired woman smiled.

Elsa soon had two steaming mugs in her hands, setting one in front of Anna. She sniffed appreciatively. "Did you put chocolate in this?"

"More effective than caffeine in waking people up, in my humble opinion," the blonde replied and took a sip; Elsa wasn't one for conversation until she'd finished at least half a cup of her home-brewed mocha.

They sat in a thick silence punctuated with the sounds of sipping.

Draining the mug, Elsa rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Okay, now that I'm actually awake, how do you know where I live?"

Anna smiled sheepishly. "I went to the Ice Palace looking for you one other night and Kristoff told me."

"Figures." She ran her fingers through her hair, absent-mindedly braiding it and securing the end with a black rubber band from her wrist. "So, you said you wanted to talk?"

A heavy silence hung between them. "Yes… about that." The redhead fidgeted with her hands for a moment. "Elsa – I'm sorry I kissed you."

Elsa froze. "Anna, I…"

"I know what I feel for you, but I don't want to force you into anything you don't want…" She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I mean, it's just stupid of me to assume you – wanted this too," said the redhead, gesturing vaguely at herself.

"Anna."

She looked up.

Elsa leaned across the table, her eyes focused. "You're getting it all wrong. I do have feelings for you too – in that way – but I… how do I put this… I don't think I'm ready for a relationship yet. We've only just met, and it's too soon… It's not you or anything," she clarified hastily, "it's just me. I know how clichéd this sounds, but, yeah."

"The very worst."

Elsa did a double-take.

Oblivious to the blonde's reaction, Anna blinked owlishly, comprehension dawning in her eyes even as a blush bloomed across her face. "God, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"No, it's fine. Really."

"Oh. I'm sorry anyway. I, that is, um, this is awkward… not that you're awkward, I'm awkward… Oh my goodness. I practically pounced on you. I totally put you on the spot. I am so so sorry, I – "

Elsa fought to keep the smile from her lips. "It's alright," she said. "I like you, Anna, I'd be lying if I said I didn't. You're an amazing person, and I... I'd really like it if we could take things slowly, see where it goes from there… you know, as friends first." She fidgeted with the end of her braid. "Instead of you falling asleep on my bar and me dragging you home."

The corners of Anna's mouth turned up, even as she turned a darker shade of magenta. "Okay."

Elsa smiled back. "Okay."

"So."

Elsa looked up at Kristoff, some annoyance evident on her face. "So, what?"

"So how are things? You talked, right?"

"Yes, she came over to my apartment this morning – no thanks to you, by the way. Things are just fine now, we're just friends, end discussion of Elsa's private life." She reached over Kristoff's hands for a shot glass.

"Friends?"

"Yes, friends. I told her I wasn't ready for a relationship right now – but it wasn't like I didn't like her in that way. I just… need some time."

"Elsa, does she know?"

The blonde paused, the bottle of Curaçao liqueur poised over the glass. "… No. She doesn't know – should I tell her?"

"She has a right to know." Kristoff drew a pint of beer, sliding it across the counter to a waiting patron. "Isn't that something friends share?" She ignored the pointed look he shot her way. "I know that. I'm just… it's been a long time since I had a friend. Present company excluded, naturally."

"Charmed," said the hulking young man dryly. "Just be yourself. Apparently she likes that. No accounting for some people's taste."

She elbowed him in the gut on the pretext of passing the drink to a patron on his other side.

Anna called her the night before her off day to ask her out.

Elsa nearly dropped the phone in surprise as Anna rushed to clarify. "As friends, of course!"

"Oh. Yeah, sure…" A hot flush crept across her face as the blonde cursed; she had been blushing way too much these few days because of this girl.

They agreed to meet at a coffee house not far from the Ice Palace which Elsa walked past many times, but never had the time or inclination to stop by.

"They have amazing coffee," enthused Anna, ordering two hot cups which steamed in the cold air. "No offence to your coffee-making skills, of course."

"None taken," said Elsa dryly, with just a hint of a smile. "I probably should check out the competition, anyway."

When they were halfway through their cups, Anna prodded Elsa's elbow. "Tell me about yourself."

She blinked in confusion. "What's there to tell?"

"You can be as totally random as you want. I mean, you know so much about me and I don't know anything about you." The younger woman leaned forward on her elbows. "I want to hear everything."

Elsa laughed shakily, hiding it with another sip of coffee. "You don't want to. I'm terribly boring. Also, how is it I know more about you than you know about me?"

Anna's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sure that's not true! I mean – you probably have funny childhood stories?"

"I grew up in an orphanage." This wasn't true; she had been the only child in a warm and loving home, but Elsa was enjoying the mildly horrified expression Anna wore.

"Cool anecdotes about hanging out with friends?"

"Don't have any – friends and anecdotes, both."

"School?"

"Dropped out."

"Pets."

"Don't have any. I sacrificed them to the Great Nyancat Overlords."

"Now you're just making fun of me," Anna huffed as Elsa smirked. "Honestly. You need to work on your sense of humour."

"Really? Now, I thought that was pretty funny…"

"It isn't funny when you're mocking our feline masters," said Anna, lightning-quick, and she grinned.

Elsa burst into peals of laughter.

In the middle of their fourth or fifth cups of coffee – sometime after the sunset – Elsa thought, maybe this friends thing isn't so bad after all.

In the wee hours of the morning, Elsa was still awake in bed. She would have been asleep long ago, if it hadn't been for thoughts of her redheaded 'friend'.

Grinding her teeth together in frustration, she buried her face into her pillow and prepared herself for another long night of running a bar without sleep.

"Had a good day out?"

Elsa grunted in response; civility was in short supply when she was sleep-deprived, and in any case, she considers it wasted on Kristoff. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew. But get to the point; what're you trying to say?"

"You're pouring tequila into a mojito."

Elsa put the bottle down hurriedly. "Easy mistake; look, the white rum and the tequila come in similar bottles…"

"Also, that gentleman over there has been waiting for his mojito for nearly an hour."

"… Oh."

"Here, look, I got this." Kristoff squeezed his bulk behind the counter and dropped mint and lime into a glass, crushing with a muddler. "Not like you to be this spacey," he observed, topping it up with ice and rum. "Something on your mind?"

Her shoulders slumped a little. "Anna," confessed Elsa, pouring away the ruined drink and wiping the glass dry. "I don't know how to handle her."

"You seem to be doing a pretty good job to me. Or is there some lesbian subtext to just-being-friends-despite-our-mutual-attraction I'm not getting?"

She made an indignant noise and punched his shoulder. "Shut up."

"No, it's a legit question. If you're just friends, and everything's just peachy, then why the spacing out?" He leaned closer, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "And the lack of sleep?"

She watched him put the finishing touches to a martini (shaken, not stirred, she remembered) and shakes her head. "I honestly don't know," says Elsa, choosing her words with care. "I like Anna, and I like that we're friends. But I can't help but feel as though something's bothering me."

The drink orders tapered off in the wee hours, and Kristoff propped his elbows up on the counter, his massive arms folded over themselves. "Maybe you don't want to be just friends," he suggested gently, belying his size. "Maybe you just want her to kiss you again."

Elsa shook her head and hugged herself, her shoulders curving inward, ignoring the pleasant heat that pooled in her belly at the memory. "I can't, Kristoff. I'm not ready."

He patted her shoulder. "Well, from the way Anna talks about you, I'm sure she will be when you are."

"I hope so."

"Also, have you told her about…"

"No," said Elsa, biting her lip.

"You should."

"I know."

It was a rare night that Elsa took a break from work, and rarer still that she spent it in company. In a move that surprised even herself, she invited Anna over to her apartment to watch a movie.

"A movie?" Anna's voice was faintly incredulous over the phone, and Elsa told herself it was the connection. "At your place?"

"Uh – yeah. But if you've got something on…"

"Oh no! I mean, I'm free! I'd be happy to go over! Should I bring some snacks – not to say you haven't got anything there, of course, but – "

"– sure," said Elsa firmly, cutting through the rambling. "I haven't got much at home, so it'll be good if you could bring some things over."

"Great, it's a date!"

Elsa winced. "Uh – sure."

"No no no, I didn't mean that – oh man." The flurry of mumbling sounded like Anna's attempt at verbal backpedalling, and if Elsa was being honest with herself, she found it adorable. "You probably think I'm the biggest doofus ever, don't you?"

She snorted. "Only since the first time you walked into my bar. Seriously, Anna, it's alright. So…I'll see you sevenish?"

"Sevenish is good. Yes. Okay. I'm putting the phone down now before I say anything else I'm gonna regret. Bye!"

"See you."

Elsa slipped the phone into her pocket – and then belatedly realized the apartment wasn't fit for guests. "Great," she grumbled, marching to the closet to pull out her cleaning supplies.

Anna squatted in front of the bookcase, pouting in fierce concentration as she perused Elsa's DVD collection – or to be precise, half a shelf's worth of titles. "Is that all you've got?"

"Pretty much. I don't watch many movies, and even fewer can induce me to spend actual money on the DVD."

The auburn-haired woman cackled. "Is that a confession of sorts to – I don't know – piracy?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," returned Elsa, her grin matching Anna's. "I go to the cinema like every good consumer should, paying for my overpriced movie ticket and watching the big screen with everyone else on movie première day."

"You don't fool me." With a cry of triumph, she pulled a case from the shelf, slipped the DVD into the player, threw herself on the couch beside Elsa, and clicked the remote. The home screen for Beauty and the Beast appeared on the television.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Disney? Really?"

"Before you judge me, Elsa, I'd like to point out this is from your collection."

"Oh, this isn't mine," said the blonde before she could stop herself, "it was my girlfriend's favourite movie." Elsa felt a slow prickle of unease. "Former," she added.

The smirk slowly faded from Anna's face. "Oh god. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up old memories." She started to get up. "We could always watch something else…"

Elsa grabbed her friend's arm. "No, it's fine. I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Elsa focused on the movie, deliberately ignoring the furtive looks Anna shot her throughout. She was beginning to regret her decision; the familiar scenes reminded her of conversations past, of the person who had loved this movie, who had loved her, and was now gone.

She swallowed the lump forming in the throat, and continued watching.

When the ending scene faded to black, Anna quietly clicked the television off. "Elsa?"

"Mmmmm?"

The auburn-haired woman scooted closer. "You all right?"

"Yes, of course."

Anna simply reached up, her hand brushing Elsa's fringe – and she frowned, feeling wetness on her fingers. Her teal eyes stared into Elsa's blue ones.

The blonde broke eye contact first. "It's nothing."

"It isn't just nothing," said Anna with a small sigh, "but I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"Your fault? But you didn't –"

"Elsa, you didn't have to watch the movie."

"I wanted to." The words were spoken quietly, directed at her clasped hands in her lap. In a flash of clarity, she understood what Belle had wanted for her. "I need to let go of the past."

"Let go?"

"Her name was Belle. She died nearly two years ago." She looked up. "Anna… I do like you. I just wasn't ready to move on, because I thought it meant forgetting her. But I finally understand what she was trying to tell me."

Elsa leaned closer, resting her forehead on Anna's. She was unbearably close. Cupping her flushed cheeks, her thumb traced the contours of Anna's nose, the edges of teal eyes already fluttering closed, the sprinkling of freckles leading down to slightly parted lips.

The blonde tilted her head and kissed her.

Anna moaned softly into the kiss, her hands slipping around Elsa's neck, gripping her tightly. She returned it with fervor, her tongue darting out to tangle with Elsa's, pressing her body closer.

Elsa's hands roamed over Anna's body, even as fingers tugged impatiently on the waistband of Elsa's jeans.

"Anna, I –"

She was cut off with another kiss, and whatever she had wanted to say after was lost as teeth tugged on her earlobe, and Anna's mouth pressed heated kisses on the sensitive skin of her neck.

Neither was keen to focus on anything apart from each other's body, and so Elsa found it amazing that they had made it to her bed.

Anna lay sprawled over the sheets, face as red as her hair; it was a sight the bartender was accustomed to, but now the woman was fully awake and sober, and Elsa was allowed to indulge the surge of desire that spread through her core – and since when had they both lost their clothes?

"Elsa," the auburn-haired girl breathed, kiss-swollen lips curving into a smile. That was all it took, and she lowered her mouth to Anna's, one finger tracing the lines of her hips. Hands fisted in her braid, tugging her closer still.

Elsa was clumsy and out of practice, but all Anna did was laugh, her voice trailing off into breathy moans whenever fingers glided over sensitive spots, and her tongue painted random patterns over the valleys of her hips and thighs.

Somehow, they managed; Elsa melding herself to the rhythm of Anna's pleasure, her mind, body, and soul filled with nothing but the throes of a violent orgasm.

"El-Elsa…"

"Anna," she groaned, and the syllables were strained and sloppy in her mouth. "Anna."

Her hips rolled once, twice. Anna's body arched in fevered response. "Elsa, let me – I want –"

Panting, she let herself collapse bonelessly to the bed, and found Anna on top of her in an instant. Auburn hair framed her face and fell everywhere in warm waves. Elsa was reminded of the first time she thought Anna beautiful, and smiled.

"Elsa," murmured her lover. She didn't waste any time on foreplay, but Elsa didn't care. Anna pleasured her with her tongue, her hands, her body, and the blonde lost herself to the sensations long-forgotten.

"Y-yes, there – "

"Nnnh – god, you're beautiful – "

"Ahhhn – Anna."

"Elsa."

Her symphony reached its climax, and Elsa's body stuttered to an ecstatic finish.

When their breathing had slowed, Anna's head slipped into the crook of Elsa's neck as though it belonged there, her arms loosely wrapped around Elsa's waist.

"What made you notice me in the first place?" asked the blonde idly, her fingers toying with one of Anna's braids, which had gradually come undone from their activities.

"I just wanted to get away," said Anna. She shifted to scratch her face. "From my fiancé, my life, everything. I was prepared to drink myself into oblivion – but then I saw you." The auburn-haired girl pressed a kiss into Elsa's neck. "Heck of a good distraction from liquor."

The bartender laughed. "Not to mention the after-drinks service."

"That too."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence; Anna broke it with a happy sigh as she nuzzled Elsa's neck. "I love you."

Elsa stiffened. "W-what?"

She sat up. "I love you, Elsa."

"You don't really mean that," blurted the blonde.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Anna, what are we now?"

Anna regarded her intently. "Elsa, I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"You know – we're friends. Heck – I've only known you for a couple of weeks. We wanted to take things slow, but this isn't slow – "

The auburn-haired girl reached up to catch Elsa's face between her hands. "Elsa. Calm down. You're overreacting." She stroked her cheeks with her thumbs. "We don't need to have labels. We can be anything you want us to be, okay?"

"Is that what you want, Anna?"

She looked completely taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Before she could stop, she heard herself talking. "Are you sure it's me you really want, Anna? Your fiancé cheated on you. It's common for people to search for comfort – rush into a relationship to get over the hurt. You don't really want awkward, broken Elsa."

"Elsa – "

She was on her feet now. "You're not really in love with me, Anna, you can't. You don't really know me. You're just looking for a warm body to give you that comfort you need – oh god, I was fucking blind, I should have seen that right from the start. You're just in love with the idea of me."

"That's not it at all!" shouted Anna, her face furious. "You're fucking jumping to conclusions for god knows what reasons!"

"Then explain to me why you kissed me that night?"

"I liked you! I thought you felt the same way about me!"

"You thought," said Elsa coldly. "That just shows how much you know about me."

"That's not fucking fair."

"Nothing's fair in life. I should know; my girlfriend fucking died and left me alone!"

Anna's head jerked back as thought she had been slapped – which from the shocked expression on her face, she probably had. "I'm sorry you lost your girlfriend," she began slowly, her eyes misting over, "I truly am. I'm sorry I forced my stupid fucking self on you. I'm sorry I thought you wanted this – everything. I'm sorry I ever tried."

"Anna – " began Elsa, taking a step towards her. The auburn-haired girl held up a shaking hand.

"No, I'm good. I'm great, actually. Thanks for stopping me from making the second biggest fucking mistake of my life. You know what? You're actually pretty good at figuring people out. Me running to the nearest warm body for comfort, like how I rushed into that engagement with Hans the night after my parents died. Now there's something else I know about you, Elsa."

"Anna. Stop it."

"I think I will," she said in a whisper. Anna stumbled away, snatching up her clothes and haphazardly dressing herself. Elsa didn't move to stop her. Finally, she turned on her heel, and fled out the door.

Elsa didn't know how long she was standing there, frozen to the spot, staring blankly at the space where Anna was, the thought go after her still echoing in her mind.

She snapped out of it when she felt tears trickling down her face, and the same gnawing empty hole in her heart she remembered from the day Belle died. The blonde, hands shaking, pulled on some clothes, some instinct driving her actions.

"Damn it." She moved to the front door and closed it – only to freeze when she heard a small sniffle from outside.

Anna's name was hard and hostile in her mouth, but she called it anyway. Despite not receiving an answer, Elsa walked outside, following her ears.

She was curled up in a corner, her arms wrapped around her legs and her forehead pressed to her knees.

Elsa knelt down before her. "Anna."

"I think," said Anna thickly through her sobs, "that you deserve a lot more than what you allow yourself to have."

"Everything I love dies," Elsa said quickly, and bit her lip.

"I'm not going anywhere. Unless you want me to – um, not that I don't want this, or I want you to ask me to go – I'm not very good at this, aren't I?"

Elsa didn't laugh this time. Someone had to be the bad guy here, and she'd rather sully her already-dirty hands than let this innocent girl do it. "Anna, you deserve a lot more than me."

"But I want you."

"You don't really love me." The blonde felt a faint headache coming on, from going round and round in circles. "You're in love with the idea of me, of someone who cares, and you fill in the gaps with what you want."

"You know why I'm still here? I couldn't leave," said Anna abruptly. "I – don't know why I couldn't. I sat in my car and I couldn't drive off like that and leave you, leave us –"

"– there was no us," muttered Elsa. Anna ignored her, shaking her head slowly. "I can't love you the way you need to be loved, Anna. Why can't you see that?"

"There could be." Anna's teal eyes were wide and hopeful. "I can wait."

"Anna, I – "

The auburn-haired girl slammed her palm onto the floor, and Elsa stopped talking.

"The gaps you have? They're part of you, Elsa. They make you you. The stupid, stubborn you that I'm in love with and I don't fully understand why."

"Stop saying that." Elsa bit her lip. "You shouldn't say it like you mean it."

"What, saying that I'm in love with you?"

She nodded curtly.

Anna opened her mouth halfway, and then closed it, her expression changing. "I do mean it. It's stupid and all, but I feel like we've made… a connection."

"Connections don't necessarily mean love."

"You know what I mean."

Elsa took a deep, harsh breath. "No, I don't." She stood up, looking down at the small form curled against the wall. "Anna. Please. You don't love me – you can't possibly, not this quickly. And anyway, you're wasting your time and effort on me, okay? Why don't I take you home –"

"– who gave you the fucking right to decide what I want?!" snapped Anna.

"Nobody, but you obviously don't fucking know what's right for yourself!"

"What about you, Elsa? What do you want?" She was standing down, her chest heaving with suppressed emotion.

Elsa's gaze slid away. "I want… I want to be left alone," she blurted out, and bit down hard on her lip in immediate regret.

Anna recoiled, but gathered herself together remarkably quickly. "… Fine. I can do that. See, Elsa? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

The blonde winced at the hurt in Anna's voice. "Anna…"

"No. You don't get to say my name like that anymore, like you actually really cared about me. God, we could have saved ourselves so much pain if we had only been upfront about this at the beginning…" She picked up her bag and brushed past Elsa, her back straight and proud. "And I let you fucking kiss me too. I let myself think you wanted this. I should just leave now."

Elsa spun on her heel, just in time to see her disappear into the lift; the metallic doors closed before she could catch a glimpse of her face.

Her legs buckled. She slumped to the floor, hugging herself, wondering just what had she done.

Kristoff took one look at Elsa when she shuffled in and shook his head. "Holy fucking crap, Elsa, what happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she hissed. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair a mess, and she was sure there were massive bags under her eyes.

He shook his head, vaulting over the counter and grabbing her elbow. "You're not working tonight. That face of yours will probably turn the drinks sour. Go home, get some sleep, and come back tomorrow."

She yanked her arm from his grasp, her posture tight and angry. "Don't fucking tell me what to do, Kristoff. Don't."

"Look at yourself. You're a fucking mess. You can't be trusted to decide what's good for yourself."

The words were the final straw in breaking down Elsa's emotional dam, and her face crumpled. Kristoff's shoulders slumped and he wordlessly enfolded her shaking form into a hug.

"Hey. It's alright. It's gonna be alright, I got you," he murmured, rubbing her back as she sobbed into his shirt.

When she had calmed down sufficiently, pulling away to rub her face, he studied her intently. "You gonna explain to me what happened last night?"

"Anna," said Elsa, feeling very proud that her voice didn't break. "She came over to my place last night. I told her about Belle, and then I kissed her."

"You kissed her."

"Yeah. And then we – slept together. Afterwards, she said she loved me." The blonde rubbed the bridge of her nose wearily, deliberately ignoring the measured look Kristoff was giving her. "We've barely known each other for a couple of weeks and she told me she loves me – she's in love with me."

"And then?"

"And then I panicked. I told her she couldn't possibly love me. We fought. I told her to leave me alone." The bald summary was painful even in its brutally abbreviated form.

Kristoff sighed. "You told her to leave you alone."

"I fucking panicked, Kristoff."

He held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, okay. No need to take it out on me. Then what happened?"

"Nothing." Elsa wrapped her arms around herself. "She left just like that."

The young man said nothing, resting a hand on her shoulder. "And are you happy now?"

"No," she said with a vehemence that surprised herself, "I'm fucking miserable, because I don't know what I want, but I can live with that, since I brought it on myself."

"And before you say anything," added Elsa, "I know. You don't need to remind me."

"I wasn't going to say anything," muttered Kristoff. The hard lines of Elsa's shoulders gradually softened.

"Except."

"Except what?"

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I hope so too."

In the end, Kristoff got his way, and he sent Elsa back to her apartment despite her half-hearted protests. "Sleep," was his final, tersely-delivered instruction before he roared off.

But sleep was the last thing on Elsa's mind.

She lay awake in her bed, tossing and turning, as the shadows lengthened and sunbeams chased each other across her room. Once the light had faded to a glow, she threw off the bedclothes and took a cold shower, half-hoping she would accidentally drown herself so she wouldn't have to feel so much.

She didn't show up the whole night – Kristoff was hardly surprised. After he'd shooed the last drunk into the night and locked up the Ice Palace, he got into his car and headed for a familiar address.

The lights weren't on, but he wasn't deterred. Trying the doorbell produced no response, and he shifted to banging his fists on the wooden door until one barrage of blows produced a sharp curse.

"Do you know what time it is – Kristoff?" Anna's eyes widened. "Is El – I mean. No. Never mind."

"Can I come in? It's been a long night and I could use a drink."

"I don't think –" she began, and stopped short when the taller man pushed past her, and walked into the house. "H-hey!"

Kristoff emerged from the kitchen, an open can of beer in one hand and a six-pack in the other. The auburn-haired girl snorted. "Pretty ironic given that you work at a bar," she said, nodding at the beer as he took a swig.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I figured you'd have plenty to share." Leaning over, he flicked on a lamp, triggering another unladylike curse as Anna shielded her eyes from the glare.

Anna exhaled, dropping into the couch, one hand simultaneously propping her head up and shielding her eyes. "What do you want, Kristoff?"

"My new landlord to get off my ass."

"Not. Funny."

He crumpled the empty beer can and let it fall; it clinked against the other empties littering the floor. "I'm just checking on you, seeing whether you're alright." Kristoff allowed himself a glance at the room. "Although it seems that I've interrupted your coping process."

"Damn straight," she said with more than a touch of acid as she reached for a bottle on the coffee table. "I'm past denial and I've reached the part where I lick my wounds, move on with my life, and all that shit."

He studied her over the rim of his second beer. In the harsh light, she looked like a stripped-down version of the tipsy girl from the bar; all jutting angles and exposed cynicism where events had worn her down. But there were still some touches of the cheerful Anna in the tilt of her jaw, the way she winced every time she sipped her liquor, and the sulky adolescent's manner in her posture.

Or maybe it was because he was on his fifth beer by then. He finished it off, relishing the quiet buzz it gave him.

Kristoff wasn't surprised at all when Anna polished off the last of her bottle, walked unsteadily towards him, and pressed her lips to his in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

He was so much bigger and had the distinct advantage of not being drunk; he caught her face in his hands, stopping her from kissing him again. "You really don't know anything about love, do you?" he said softly.

Anna's face crumpled. Kristoff didn't say anything as he scooped her into his arms, carried her upstairs to her bed, and pulled the blankets over her curled-up, sobbing form.

"How're you holding up?"

Elsa sighed, the sound drawn-out and weary. "First of all, I don't need to be 'held up'. Secondly, I'm not angsting or upset or anything."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You don't miss her?"

A bitter laugh. "After I told her to leave me alone? I don't think I have that right."

"So you do miss her."

"You're putting words into my mouth."

"Elsa – "

"No," she said, holding up a hand. "Thanks for caring about me, Kristoff, but I'm sorry. I don't want to go over this again."

He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath, returning to sweeping the floor.

The knocking was soft, almost shy, but Anna heard it. She stumbled over to the door, cursing as she tripped over empty cans.

"Yeah, I'm coming, give me a sec –"

"Hi," said Elsa, not meeting her eyes.

"Hi, me?" replied Anna, a trace of rancour in her voice. "You talking to me?"

"I suppose so." The blonde's eyes trailed over the wreck that was Anna's living room. "Can we talk? Just for a bit?"

Wordlessly, she stepped back, allowing Elsa to walk in. She picked her way over the maze of bottles and cans and made for the sofa.

"I'm afraid I can't offer you coffee," said Anna dryly, much less adept in avoiding the mess, occasionally cursing under her breath as she accidentally kicked a bottle. "I always went out to the cafe for my fix."

"No, I... it's fine." She reached into her bag, withdrew two thermos flasks. "I made some of my mocha for you."

Anna's eyes lit up; it was like someone had opened the window a fraction, and Elsa saw the girl she had been when they first met. "Oooh, thanks. You shouldn't have."

"It wasn't any trouble, really."

Elsa watched her as she unscrewed the lid and took quick, careful sips. Her hair was lank, as though she hadn't had a bath in days (she suspected that was the case); her eyes were bloodshot and dull (but still managed to retain some of that Anna charm).

She looked utterly devastated, and the blonde hated herself all over again.

"So," she began. Anna put down the flask.

"So?" Her teal eyes searched Elsa's face curiously, her expressions darkening. "As I recall, you told me to leave you alone."

Elsa winced. "Yes, I... I'm sorry."

She waved a listless hand. "I'm only accepting it because you brought me mocha," deadpanned the redhead, reaching for her drink again. "But somehow, I'm thinking you didn't come all this way just to bring me coffee."

"No." The bartender picked at the dead skin on her sides of her fingers. "I came to apologize for everything. For being this fucking idiot who doesn't know what she wants. For hurting you."

Anna got up, and sat herself beside Elsa. "Elsa, it's okay," she said quietly. "I probably shouldn't have said all those things. Pretty intense if someone tells you they're in love with you after knowing them for a short while, yeah?"

She brushed aside Anna's attempts at lightening the situation. "Anna, I really appreciate that you're willing to forgive me so easily," began Elsa. "I do care for you. I'm sorry I can't make this better, and I can't give you what you need. I... don't think I ever will be able to."

Anna's eyes clouded over in confusion. "I don't – Elsa, what are you trying to say?" She opened her mouth, and then closed it, at a loss for the answers.

"I just... you can't fix me. I'm sorry."

The redhead looked away for a moment, and then her gaze fell on Elsa's face, the bartender's eyes resolutely fixed on the clasped hands in her lap.

"Elsa. Look at me." She complied.

Anna touched her chin, tilting it upwards, steadying the trembling that had started. "I forgive you," she said, "for everything that happened. I wasn't lying when I said I felt this connection between us, but we probably aren't ready for that –" Elsa shifted uncomfortably, and the redhead added, "you and me both."

"There's nothing wrong –"

"– There's nothing wrong with us, Elsa, me and you," she stressed, the pad of her thumb brushing Elsa's chin lightly. "We're okay. We're not... together, or anything. Just... okay."

"Okay," repeated Elsa unsteadily.

"Yeah." Anna let go, and pushed herself to her feet. "Now that that's done, I'm starving, and I look like shit. Give me a moment to look decent, and we can go eat something."

"Yeah, sure." The redhead padded away, smiling faintly, leaving Elsa to her thoughts.

Happiness. Despite everything, maybe it could be hers, if she let herself take it.

By unspoken agreement, Anna returned to her spot in the Ice Palace, Elsa continued to serve her watered-down drinks, and Kristoff bit back the words that threatened to spill.

But the nature of things that aren't fixed is of change, and they, nighthawks that they were, were helpless in its wake.

The little coffee nook was now part of Elsa's daily routine. She resented the fact she felt compelled to spend that extra handful of dollars per week when she had perfectly good beans at home, but they topped off their hot mocha with a swirl of caramel, just the way she liked it.

She had given up all pretence of resistance when winter came, and the idea of warming chocolate, bitter coffee, and sweetish-burnt caramel drew her in on a weekly, then daily basis.

She especially treasured the quiet mornings like all those who work outside of office hours did; apart from harried workers and students, the place was her cosy little den of solitude. Elsa took her drink, and lingered over it, relishing the way it heated her from the inside out.

"Martini," said a familiar voice, breaking into her thoughts, "shaken, not stirred."

She just smiled. "Very clever," said Elsa, turning around to face Anna. "Did it take you long to come up with that line, or just the courage to?"

"Both." The redhead seated herself at the counter, sipping from the steaming mug in her hands.

"It's been a while." Elsa swirled her spoon in her mug, scraping milk foam from the sides. "Haven't had you in the Ice Palace for – a couple of weeks?"

Anna grimaced, and then laughed. "A few months now," she said, "sorry, I've been caught up with work..."

"Oh, no, it's fine! But really, has it been that long?"

"It doesn't feel like it, doesn't it?"

"No." The blonde pushed her now-empty mug to one side. "How have you been?"

"Good, good. Apart from being a total life-sucking black hole, work's fine. I got a promotion."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. How's Kristoff?"

"He quit, actually. Finally turned his hobby into a career and started his own ice-sculpture business. Does parties and functions."

"That sounds really amazing. I should call him one day, get him to do one of our corporate functions."

"Yeah."

Anna fidgeted with her hands. "And you? How are things in the bar?"

"Good, good," said the blonde, tripping over her awkward response, her cheeks pinking. "Nothing's changed much."

"That's good."

There was a pause as Anna sipped her drink, and the bartender stared out the window. "Elsa… do you think about things from then?"

She resisted the urge to lie. "Yes," she confessed.

"I do too. Every night."

"Anna…"

The redhead took a deep breath. "Have you ever wondered, what would have happened if we tried?"

"Yes," she said, and dropped her gaze to the table.

"Ah."

"But I guess it didn't matter. In the end, we just drifted apart naturally."

The old Anna would have jumped at the bald statement, but the woman sitting beside Elsa just shook her head fondly, smiling wistfully.

"You said I was in love with the idea of you," said Anna, "and I think that was true. Every gap, every flaw. Your smile. Your laugh. The things that made you Elsa."

"You were."

"I was."

Into the awkward silence, fervently hoping she wasn't making a mistake, Elsa said, "I hope you find someone soon."

"I was going to say the same to you."

Tears poured silently down Anna's face, despite the radiant smile she wore. She stood, hiding her face briefly as she rubbed at it with her sleeve, slinging her handbag over her other shoulder.

"So… I'll see you around?"

The corners of Elsa's mouth lifted into a brief smile. "Yes, I'll see you," she said, rising from her chair to give Anna a brief hug, dropping a quiet tear on the collar of the redhead's shirt.

She raised a hand in farewell and left, the bell of the door tinkling softly. Elsa watched her retreating back, knowing it would be the last time she would see Anna…

… until she turned the corner, and was gone.