Author's Notes: Profuse thanks to mach5goh, who was given a preview to read and did not use this gift for evil.

"So," said Rapunzel. She had the strap of her satchel clutched in front of her as she concentrated on keeping up with Anna.

"That was the worst class ever," lamented the redhead. "I've never been so embarrassed to hand in work like that – no, wait, there was that time in my freshman art history class – "

"Anna – "

" – I put off doing my paper until the night before and then crapped out the entire thing. I drank so much coffee. It was insane."

"Anna!"

"What?" she asked, sounding a little indignant at being interrupted.

"Remember we were talking about the Showcase? And you mentioned having other stuff?"

Anna blinked. "Oh. Right. That."

"So?"

"I'm not ready – I know I'm a senior, but it's the Showcase. There are plenty of other talented people. I know that Quasi'll be there, and Belle… and me, I didn't even find my personal style until last semester! And that's not truly my own, there's still a lot of variation and I still mess up things I'm not supposed to – "

Anna cut herself off, blinking, when Rapunzel continued to stare at her.

"Okay, what's with you today?"

Her friend quirked an eyebrow. "I've known you for years. I can tell when you're deflecting. There's something else on your mind, isn't there?"

"… Oh."

"Oh is right. So, you wanna try that again?"

Anna pinked – although it was arguably a result of wheeling herself up a ramp rather than embarrassment – and ducked her head. "I just. There's this friend, and I invited her to the Showcase, but I already showed her some of my old work, and I really really want to impress her but most of my stuff is shit."

Rapunzel stared at her for a moment. "First of all, what? Secondly, what?"

"What do you mean, what? Uh, both whats," said Anna.

The other girl threw up her hands, making her satchel jump wildly. "Your work is not shit, Anna. Seriously. You got into Arendelle's Fine Arts program on your portfolio alone – "

"So did you," retorted Anna.

" – you had your sophomore year exam piece nominated for a regional award – "

" – which you won – "

" – and your junior year work won the state award," finished Rapunzel, jerking her chin forward, folding her arms across her chest.

"You came in second," said the redhead lamely.

"So not the point. What I'm trying to say is: You're an amazing artist and you're seriously underselling yourself. Which piece did you show her?"

"From high school, but – "

"Did she like it?"

"I guess so, but – "

"But nothing," said Rapunzel brusquely. "You've definitely, objectively gotten better since high school, so what's there to freak out over?" When an answer wasn't immediately forthcoming, a small smile spread over her face. "… Oh. I see."

"I d-don't know what you're talking about," she squeaked.

"Your secret's safe with me. I've known you since high school, Anna Iversen, when this punk in a wheelchair ran over my foot, and somehow wormed her way into my good graces after that."

That got a smile from Anna. "Serves you right for not wearing shoes," she muttered.

"It's a free country!" Rapunzel said, sounding scandalized. She reached out to gently bop her friend's shoulder with a fist, prompting a small 'ow'. Rapunzel smirked. "Unfortunately, that means punks in ridiculously pimped-out wheelchairs get their freedom of expression as well."

Anna muttered something under her breath about colourblind friends. "I need caffeine," she said loudly and abruptly, pivoting her chair sharply left, "so you buying me a venti mocha would be a great way to start earning my forgiveness."

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. "Okay, but only because she's pretty. She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Rapunzel!"

"How's the chair going?"

Anna pondered the question for a moment. "I like being mobile again," she said slowly.

"Yeah, that's the best bit, isn't it?" Hiccup was a lot more agile now, gamely matching her pace. "Also, the bonus of bicep definition any guy would kill for."

She flexed. He pretended to swoon.

"No, seriously," said Anna with a laugh, "it's empowering. It reminds me of what my life used to be before – you know. I was beginning to forget."

His expression sobered. "Ah. That, as well."

"Minus the mobility aids, of course."

"Of course."

She positioned her chair beside the bed, tongue poking out as she concentrated on aligning herself. Hiccup watched as Anna hoisted her butt out of the chair with a grunt, picking up her legs and arranging them on a pillow.

"Pretty smooth."

"Thanks. I've been working on it." Anna flopped back with a sigh. "I'm getting discharged on Friday."

"I heard. Excited?"

"Not really, I start school the following Monday."

"That shouldn't be a problem, you've been doing the homework – you have been doing it, right?"

"You've been watching me do it, you dork. If we were in the same year, you would have been copying my answers."

"No, you'd been copying mine."

Anna attempted to swat him. "The schoolwork's not the problem."

He shrugged. "I'm just planning on keeping my head down and making it through to graduation. Join the nerdiest clubs, wear a pocket protector, like they do on TV."

"Are we even watching the same shows? That's what makes you a prime target for the bullies."

"Yeah, but it worked for Bill Gates. Someday prosthetic legs will be the new sexy.

Her laughter was half-hearted. Hiccup inched closer and patted her hand.

"We're still gonna be friends, okay?"

"Yeah. I know."

"So when were you planning to tell me about you being in the Showcase?" said Kristoff, sounding a little disgruntled.

Anna groaned, slapping her forehead. "Oh, shoot. I forgot to tell you about me being in the Showcase."

"Glad to hear that I'm an important part of your life."

"Shut up. You know I love you."

"Some days I'm beginning to forget," he said dryly, slinging his bag over the back of her chair and pushing her towards the parking lot.

"For the record, I love you, you're my favourite big bro, and I need your help with the prep work."

"It's nice to know you care so much that you'd call me – your only big bro – the instant you got your letter." Kristoff reached over the gear shift to ruffle her hair, eliciting a growl, and started the engine.

"It's not like it was a Hogwarts letter," muttered Anna.

A few blocks later, when they'd stopped at a red light, Kristoff glanced over at her and said: "What are you thinking of showing?"

She perked up visibly. "So you'll help? With no hard feelings?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't have a choice."

"Softy."

He glared at her.

Hans called Elsa in her office, right at the tail end of a long day. "Rough day?" he asked after she'd answered the phone.

Elsa laughed shortly. "How could you tell?"

"Your tone says kill me now, or bring me coffee. The former's illegal, but I'd be happy to oblige the latter."

She eyed the pile of blueprints on her desk askance. They all needed vetting – a process that required time and effort. Going out for coffee was so very tempting, especially since Nancy was as busy as she was, and there was only the terrible coffee from the machine in the staff breakroom. "You've gotten off work already?"

"The good thing about being a junior partner," said Hans, "is that one can disappear at a certain time without dire consequences. I'll meet you at the coffee place down the block from your office?"

Tempting. It was so tempting.

He chuckled as though he could sense her thoughts. "I'm already there. They have a fresh batch of those chocolate chip muffins you like."

"… Fine. I'll be there in five minutes."

Hans was seated at a small table in the corner. Two steaming cups and two muffins sat in front of him.

"I got extra whipped cream for you – you sounded like you needed it," he said as she slid into the seat across from him.

"I really do," groaned Elsa, inhaling the rich scent of coffee. The first sip was extremely satisfying; it was exactly as she liked it. "Today it seemed like nobody knew how to do their jobs properly and it was up to me to save the day singlehandedly." She neglected to mention that her editor was jumping down her throat asking for her manuscript draft, and she didn't dare write him back to ask for yet another extension.

Hans chuckled. "Definitely worth that chocolate chip muffin, then."

She nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You're not going back to the office after this, are you?"

Elsa held up her briefcase. "Nope. I'm done for the day, otherwise I'd have to strangle someone. Even I have my limits."

"If coffee and chocolate hasn't suppressed your urge to kill, you really need to destress." He leaned over the table. "I have two tickets for a performance by the philharmonic orchestra this Friday night."

"Friday night?" That rang a bell; Elsa frowned. "Oh – I'm sorry, I've already got something on."

"No worries," said Hans lightly, shrugging. "These things happen. I'll just call the ticket office and change the date."

Elsa felt a little bad. She'd told him once she loved classical music, and Hans had not only remembered, but taken the trouble to get them tickets. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I'd really love to go, but I promised my friend last night."

"And it's really alright," he returned in that same tone of voice. "So what are you going for?"

"My neighbour's a student at the local college, and she was invited to be a part of her school's prestigious art show."

Hans' eyebrows lifted. "Wow, that's impressive. Do pass my congratulations to her."

"Thank you. I will."

"If you don't mind me being nosy, I didn't know you were such good friends with your neighbour." He took a sip of his drink. "I mean, I don't even know half the people on my floor, let alone the guy who lives opposite from me. That's rare these days, you know what I mean?"

Elsa shrugged. For obvious reasons, she didn't feel like going into details with Hans. "It's a long story. We bumped into each other a few times and started talking; I've helped out her a bit."

"Oh, okay." Thankfully, he didn't pry. Hans settled back into his chair and began talking about upcoming orchestra performances and his favourite conductors. Elsa was more than happy to let him commandeer the conversation.

"Hey, guys."

"It's been a while," said Hiccup jovially as Anna pulled up beside their table. "I was beginning to forget what you looked like."

"Hush." She took the cider from Ariel gratefully. "I've been busy. Between school and work and prep for the showcase I've got coming up, I don't really have the time for a loser like you, Hiccup."

"Ouch."

"While I'm not contesting that description of Hiccup," said Ariel ("Hey," he said indignantly), "he's got a point – exaggerated as it is. We hardly see you these days, and we work in the same studio. Congrats on getting into the Showcase, by the way."

"Thanks. And – what? I'm doing a lot of digital art this semester and my stuff is at home, so…"

"You should make time for us rehab people." Hiccup tried to sneak a sip from Anna's bottle; she scowled and held it out of his reach. "Between the three of us, we only have five legs – four of which are just for show." They all laughed.

"What have you been doing, anyway?" asked Ariel. "I know it isn't studying or working…"

"Har har."

"She's got a girlfriend," said Hiccup dramatically. Anna gaped at him.

"No, I haven't. I'm more single than Kraft cheese at the moment, thank you very much. What about you? Astrid still saving your sorry butt?"

He rolled his eyes at the poor deflection. "Nice try." Hiccup turned to Ariel. "Not girlfriend yet."

"No," she agreed, "but getting there."

"Undoubtedly."

"I can't believe you two," grumbled Anna.

"Well, is it?"

"No!"

"Then what? You're not straight, unless there's something you haven't told us and we've been out of the loop for a really long time…"

"It's nothing! Seriously! Elsa and I are just friends – "

"And we have a name," said Hiccup triumphantly. He high-fived Ariel as Anna groaned.

"… You both suck." She took a moody sip of her cider. "And you're buying me the next drink," added Anna, pointing at Hiccup.

"Worth it."

"Oh, don't stop there!" Ariel leaned closer. "We want to hear more about this wonderful person. What's she like? She must be pretty special, if she actually likes you…"

"Rude."

"I know," interjected Hiccup. "She looks so sweet but actually isn't. Ignore her, Anna. Tell me about Elsa. How'd you know her? Through school?"

"Nah, she's my neighbour, she lives directly opposite me. She drives me to class when the bus was delayed because it's on the way to work for her, and yeah, my legs. We get along quite well, so we ended up as friends." It was a woefully inadequate summary of Elsa, but Anna wasn't sure how much she wanted to share. In her head, the blonde was many wonderful things, but saying them out loud made it dull and inane, completely unlike the young woman herself.

Ariel caught the look in her eyes and nodded thoughtfully. "She sounds lovely," she said, clapping a hand over Hiccup's mouth. "You have to invite her to Purple Parade at the end of this month."

"The end of the month? Is it that time already?"

"Well, while you've been busy hanging out with Elsa, time has passed," intoned Hiccup. "Bring her. We can do the whole triple date thing with Eric and Astrid. I know it's not a date," he added as Anna opened her mouth to protest, cheeks pink, "but at least you have someone with you."

"You guys never had a problem with me bringing Kristoff," said Anna sulkily.

"But we want to meet Elsa."

"Keep this up and you can forget about it. I've heard lunacy is contagious."

Elsa knew she was overdoing it, but she couldn't help feeling paranoid. "It's just a show, Elsa," she told her reflection sternly, "not a date." The d-word made a shiver pass down her spine.

But yet, half her wardrobe was spread over her bed, desk, and floor, and she had a dress in either hand. Elsa had left work early so she could be home to get dressed; two hours later, and she was no nearer to picking a dress, let alone putting it on. The young CEO growled in frustration.

There was the simple black dress that she liked – her mainstay for any event that was a little dressier than office attire could be. It contrasted with her hair and complexion enough to make it striking. But there was also the new dress she had picked up earlier on a whim; frowning, Elsa held it up critically. It was midnight blue and was cut – provocatively, to say the least. The neckline plunged to meet the hem, and there were no sleeves.

It had been an impulse buy, and Elsa wondered which impulse had been foolish enough for that.

It didn't help that she happened to have shoes to go with the blue dress – another justification for buying it. Elsa felt like the universe was conspiring against her.

With a long-suffering sigh, she put the black dress back into her closet.

Anna had opted not to go home in the lull period between the end of class and the art show; she had brought a change of clothes to school with her, and Jane had offered to let her store them in her classroom. She was glad as she didn't want to impose on anyone.

"Don't tell the others, or they'll be wanting special privileges too," said the British TA with a wink, and Anna grinned. It was nice, having someone who didn't look at her and see only a wheelchair.

Like Elsa did.

The redhead blushed, quickly banishing the thought to the back of her mind. It occurred to her then that she had not been paying attention to her colouring for the past five minutes, and the Photoshop layers were a horrible mess. She stabbed the delete button repeatedly. She was being ridiculous, as always. Elsa was a nice person who happened to live opposite her, and they were just starting what felt like a strong friendship Anna would cherish for the rest of her life.

That would have been very reassuring if it hadn't been the same monologue that preceded her last relationship.

Anna fought the urge to slam her forehead into her keyboard. All the teasing was finally getting to her.

Finally, the class dragged to an end, and Anna practically launched herself out of the room, towards the main hall. Kristoff was waiting outside for her.

"Finally," he said. "I was beginning to think you fell asleep – again – and I would have to do the show by myself."

"Perish the thought." Anna let herself in, Kristoff following behind, and wheeled over to where her works were placed. She inspected them thoroughly, making sure the information placards were accurate, the lights were properly positioned. Behind them, other students drifted in to check on their own works. Now and then she said something to Kristoff, who reached out to make the necessary adjustments.

"Everything looks great," said Anna eventually. "Time to get dressed."

It was a novelty not to simply drive off after pulling into the school, but to park in the lot.

Anna had told her to wait on the porch. Elsa pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders; the cool spring air was nippy at night. From her place, she could vaguely see lights from the other end; Elsa guessed that was where the art show was taking place. She imagined Anna, being adorably over-excited about her work, and smiled.

Somewhere along the way, the thought of Anna no longer made her cringe or feel guilty, but was fond and warm. With a sudden sinking feeling, Elsa realised that it was no exactly the most ideal of developments.

She still had yet to tell Anna – and with each passing day, it grew harder. Anna had even invited her to her show. Elsa was in too deep. She was becoming attached to Anna, and if the redhead took her confession badly – as was within her rights – could she deal with the loss of their friendship?

"Elsa?"

She was rudely shaken out of her thoughts. "Anna," said Elsa, smiling. "Hey."

The redhead was out of her usual sweater and faded jeans, wearing a green button-down shirt and neat black jeans, feet tucked into black sneakers. Her hair was in a bun at the base of her neck, accentuated with a green ribbon. "Ugh, sorry. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I've only just got here."

"Okay. Uh – shall we?" Anna cocked her head to the side, and Elsa descended the stairs to join her.

"Are you nervous?" asked Elsa. It was a moot point – judging from the way Anna was gnawing on her lower lip – but she needed to fill the awkward silence.

"A little," replied Anna with a little laugh. "But most of the hard work's done. I just have to hang around and answer any questions." The redhead tapped her chest, and Elsa noticed the badge that was pinned there.

"How many works are you displaying?"

"Three. There's no maximum or minimum limit on pieces we can show or mediums, though our choices are curated by the dean. Mine are all illustrations because that's all I was working on last year." They were almost to the hall, close enough to hear the murmur of voices from inside. "Two of them are mixed media, and one in oils."

"You paint in oil?" It was something Elsa associated with art museums and classic paintings, and she was very impressed. It showed in her voice; Anna blushed.

"Just a bit. I took classes in some of the traditional art mediums last semester just to get my basics down – watercolours, oil, and sculpture. I'm still more comfortable with digital art, though. I need my layers." Anna slowed so she could take hold of the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for Elsa to go in.

The interior looked exactly like an art museum – albeit it was more crowded, and the atmosphere was lively. Anna frowned, scanning the crowd. "Where's Kristoff – whoa."

She had turned her head and was staring at Elsa as though seeing her for the first time; mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

"What is it?" asked Elsa, feeling self-conscious.

"Wow, um," began Anna, clearing her throat and laughing nervously, "it's just an art show, Elsa; you didn't have to dress up."

Now it was Elsa's turn to blush, glancing down at her dress and heels, the black shawl thrown over her shoulders. "I didn't think I was dressing up… I've never been to an art show before, and I didn't want to embarrass you or anything…"

"I – no, of course not! It's my fault, I should have told you about the dress code or something." Anna smacked her forehead. "Ugh, dumbass. I'm really sorry, Elsa, I didn't mean to stare like that. It's just that you look gorgeous and – gah, should shut up now."

Elsa was mortified enough to miss the compliment. She bit her lip and nodded, not making a comment on Anna's rambling.

"Uh." The redhead waved her hands around. "So. My stuff's over here."

"Okay."

It was hard for them to progress; the hall wasn't absolutely packed, but there were enough people to obstruct Anna's path and force her to stop and maneuver her chair around them. There were a few incidents when Elsa was genuinely impressed by the redhead's dexterity.

"Anna?"

"Yeah?" she huffed, a little annoyed by their slow movement.

"May I suggest something?"

From the quick glance downwards, Anna guessed it had something to do with her wheelchair. She smiled warmly, leaning forward to pat Elsa's hand to let the blonde know she wasn't going to be offended. "Go ahead. I'm all ears."

"Well – maybe it would be better if I were to guide you through?"

"Actually, that's a good idea. I'm a little tired." It wasn't an outright lie; Anna could propel her chair in a straight line for hours on end, but all of the zigzagging and constant halts were tiring, and her shirt was a little damp with sweat. She had swapped her fingerless gloves for full mittens because of the cold, reducing her control. "I hope you take direction well," she joked.

Elsa smiled at her, and then grasped the handles of her chair; Anna nodded at her and settled back to enjoy the ride. A few outings together had taught the blonde some skills in pushing the chair, and it was no trouble for her to reach the far end of the hall. "There," said Anna, pointing to the corner.

"They put your stuff in the corner?" Elsa sounded incredulous, almost bristling with indignant anger, and Anna found it adorable.

"Yes, but only because it fits in with the theme. They're not discriminating against me, or anything like that." One of the advantages of being in the corner of the hall was that they had more room to move around, and Anna took full advantage of that, spinning her chair around to skid to a halt in front of the first piece.

"This is Joan of Arc," said Anna.

The digital painting was slightly smaller than a television set. Most of the frame was occupied by the profile of a person in full armour, the visor up to show delicate features, the hint of pink in cheeks and lips. There was a white banner in the background. While the background had been rendered in bright comic-book style colours, there was a rounded softness and light saturation in the figure itself that made it look like it had been painted with oils.

"It's beautiful," said Elsa.

Anna beamed. "This over here is The Swing."

This was clearly a digital painting. Unlike the refined appearance of the first work, this had crisp lines and muted colours. It depicted a redheaded girl standing on a swing, her head thrown back in laughter, her dress billowing around her stockinged legs.

Elsa chose not to mention the fact that the girl in the painting resembled Anna.

The redhead was already looking past her at the last work on display. "And this," she said happily, "is called The Snow Queen."

The painting was large, almost the size of Elsa's front door. At the first glance, it was done entirely in blue and white, ice and snow; when Elsa bent forward to take a closer look, she could see the blues and whites weren't purely so, but composed of so many more shades; purple, red, yellow, grey were those she could discern, but there were other hues falling in between. The subject was a fabulous castle that was apparently (judging from its surroundings) constructed of ice, but the ice itself was a muted rainbow of colours.

Elsa let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "Anna, this… this is wonderful."

The redhead was grinning. "Now this one, I'm actually proud of," she said. "It took me most of last semester to do, and you won't believe how many rejects I went through."

Elsa blinked. "This is the one done in oils?" she asked, her eye falling on the uneven paint strokes on the canvas.

"Yep. The other two were done digitally with touch-ups done using real oil and watercolours. This one is all elbow grease. No Ctrl-Z here." She laughed at her own joke. "Hey, how much are they charging for it?"

The question snapped Elsa out of her reverie. "Charging?"

Anna pointed at the rectangular white sticker underneath the information placard. "Yeah, all the art on display tonight is for sale. The proceeds go to charity." She leaned in and whistled lowly. "Wow, that much? They do think highly of me."

"Anna," said Elsa a little severely, "your work is beautiful and worth every cent."

Anna squirmed in her chair. "…. You're not saying that just because you're my friend?"

"I mean it," said Elsa, and did.

Before the redhead could respond, some people approached them and after glimpsing the badge that Anna wore, started asking her technical questions about her work. Anna shot Elsa an apologetic shrug and smile.

While Anna talked, Elsa took out her phone and made a quick call.

"Sorry about that," said Anna once the group had left, "duty calls."

Elsa tore her eyes away from the fantastic Gothic church model in the space nearby and smiled at Anna. "No problem at all."

"I, uh, have to stick around a little longer – " Anna checked her wristwatch, " – an hour maximum, so I'm going to have to ask you to entertain yourself until then? I'd love to take you around, but I have to answer questions about my stuff. Once I'm done with my duties for the evening, we can go on that grand tour as promised."

Elsa smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Awesome." With a jaunty wave, Anna wheeled away from Elsa and towards the next group of people murmuring appreciatively at her works.

Elsa was a little ashamed of herself. She was an art lover, and yet hadn't known about the Showcase even though she had graduated from the university. Nevertheless, it felt nice that she was now able to afford the artwork.

Surrounded by enthusiastic young students, she felt like a fish out of water. Elsa had grown up too quickly after the accident.

In other parts of the hall, she was grateful for the organizers' decision to put Anna's work in the corner; the bulk of traffic thronged the walkways and made it hard for her to slip through, let alone a wheelchair.

As Anna had mentioned, the dress code was rather casual given the event had sounded formal. Most of the attendees looked like students – presumably there to support classmates who were participating. But there were a few older people who were peering at the placards, speaking with the artists.

Elsa continued to watch a middle-aged couple as they talked to a girl with choppy brown hair. Not long after, the girl squealed in delight and shook both their hands, continuing to wave as they left.

The artwork she was standing in front of was rather impressive. It reminded Elsa of colourful street art she had seen when traveling overseas with her father, except the pictures looked like they told a story – there were two characters that showed up in various parts of the work.

"Sorry, it's been sold," said the girl. Elsa smiled and shook her head. "That's a pity. It's beautiful."

"Thanks." She ducked her head shyly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet – quite literally, as Elsa belatedly noticed she wasn't wearing shoes. "I'm glad you like it."

"I really do." If she hadn't chosen to study architecture or write novels, Elsa had entertained the idea of making art. There was something about producing magnificent things of beauty that appealed to her.

"Hey, you're back!" Anna came up to her, grinning widely. "Had fun?"

"Definitely." Elsa's expression changed. "Did you get to see the other things on display?"

"Oh, yeah. My TA let me in early. I had full run of the place. Don't worry about me."

"Oh. Good."

"Anyway, I'm done. My replacement'll be here in a minute – I think he got distracted by the glacier-inspired sculptures over there – but we can leave first?"

"Sure."

"Hell yeah." Anna's smile became a full grin, and she practically tore the badge off her chest. "Let's go."

"So this is my life drawing classroom," said Anna, waving to a door on the left, "where I draw nude models and try not to drown my classmates in drool."

Elsa laughed. "Definitely more exciting than my college days."

"In terms of skin on display? I'm sure."

"I know this is going to make me sound old, but back in my day, we spent a lot of time in the materials lab. Not much time spent socializing."

"We spend our lives chained in the studio, I suppose that's close enough." Anna turned right at the next corner. "But this is my corner of hell."

"Your studio, you mean?"

"Sure, technically," said Anna with a grin. "Well, I share it with a whole bunch of my classmates," she shrugged, "but there is a messy corner here that is filled with my junk." Anna pulled a bunch of keys out of her pocket and opened the door, flipping the switch as she entered (technically it was a jury-rigged construction at her level that flipped the real switch, which Elsa found endearing).

On first glance, it was reminiscent of an abandoned warehouse – piled high and higgledy-piggledy with objects of all sizes. Paint spatters marked the ghosts of past projects. Elsa couldn't stop looking around her as she followed Anna through the unofficial lanes. Throughout the walk, the redhead kept up a running commentary: "This is Quasi's spot, he's got an entire diorama of Paris on display downstairs – remind me to show you afterwards – and Punzie's things. She specializes in Renaissance art, so she does a lot of frescoes. Toulouse is this exchange student from France, his idol is Jackson Pollock, his neighbours hate him because of all the paint he throws about…"

Elsa was enthralled. It was a completely different world from what she was used to; where her work was plain orderly lines, her surroundings were a riot of colour and forms.

"You can touch most stuff," said Anna, noticing Elsa's hand hovering in front of her as she stared at a large sculpture of a black dragon. "There isn't anybody working with delicate materials this semester, so you won't destroy anything."

The blonde nodded. Her fingertips grazed the dragon's snout, and she gasped a little at the sensation. "It feels real."

"Yeah, that's my friend Hiccup's project. I think he's aiming for a job in a movie creature workshop."

"He'll definitely get it," said Elsa earnestly. She wandered from item to item, completely fascinated by each and every thing. Anna waited for her, a small smile on her face.

"That's my workspace," pointed out the redhead.

Obediently, Elsa turned to look where Anna was pointing. Unlike the other areas, Anna's floor space was mostly free of clutter, though there was a lot of junk arranged around the room. "I like working on several projects at a time," explained Anna, wheeling herself over to the easel in the centre. "Most of my digital work is at home, so I haven't been spending a lot of time here in the studio recently, though I did do a bit of touch-up on the ice castle painting to get it ready for the show."

"I like the way you arranged things," commented Elsa. "Maybe you'd have a future in architecture?"

Anna laughed. "If you think doughnut-shaped layouts are the next big thing, then sure." She pushed herself forward, letting her chair coast across the room and back in front of the entrance. "We should be going, though," said the artist, checking her watch, "I do need to check back with the organizers and see if anyone's bought my stuff. I hope not. There's a ton of paperwork."

Elsa joined in the laughter, though hers was a tad uneasy. "Lead the way."

Kristoff was hovering around Anna's little corner of the show; he hurried closer when he spotted them. "There you are," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Somebody bought your stuff."

Anna blinked. "They did? Which one?"

"All of them."

"Um… Come again?"

He waved a hand at the artworks. Each one now sported a small circular green sticker in their lower right corners.

"Congratulations, Anna. That's amazing," said Elsa. Anna seemed not to hear her as delight spread over her face. She pumped her fist in the air (narrowly missing Kristoff), letting out a whoop.

"I'm a real artist!"

"A step up from starving artist, yep," said Kristoff, but he leaned down to throw an arm around her, ruffling her hair with a free hand. Anna yelped and pushed at him. "Eat your heart out, Picasso."

"Stop making fun of me," growled Anna, but there was no real anger in her words. Even as she pretended to glare at her foster brother, her grin threatened to show through the mock scowl.

The next morning, Elsa went into the office at her usual timing. Her weekend had been filled with paperwork, but she felt strangely well-rested.

Nancy was at her desk. The secretary looked up when her boss arrived. "The packages just got here," she said, nodding at the three large brown paper-wrapped objects leaning against the wall. "What do you want to do with them?"

Elsa placed a hand on one of the packages. "Unwrap this one and put it in the reception room." As Nancy nodded, Elsa continued: "Please deliver this to Mr Marshall Petersen; I'll pass you the address. And this one…" A small smile played over Elsa's face. "Put this one in my office."

"Alright." Nancy unwrapped the largest one, whistling in surprise. "It's beautiful."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Though I'm a little surprised that you not only bought art, but had to ask me to buy them on your behalf."

Elsa bent closer as she pretended to study the brushwork of The Snow Queen. "You can't blame me for wanting to purchase these. They'll make a wonderful addition to the office, won't they?" She straightened. "I have a few phone calls to make. Please come and get Mr. Petersen's address from me later," called Elsa over her shoulder.

"Yes, boss."

Marshall's brow was furrowed in confusion as he gazed at his newly-acquired painting, his phone in his hand. The instant the call connected, he said: "I hope this is some sort of apology for not sending in your latest chapter on time, because otherwise I'm confused. What does a girl in armour have to do with a murder mystery? Is this a gimmick? Have we decided we're doing murder mystery gimmicks?"