Alrighty final installment! I'm sad to say goodbye to these two crazy kids.
Glossary things: thongs mean shoes, like rubber flip-flops. A Cassowary is a type of bird that's like, a six foot tall dinosaur-ass looking thing with huge fuck-off claws and a big horn thing on its head that you do NOT want to get chased by.

Elsa doesn't want to wake up. She's having the most wonderful dream full of warm hugs and delicious breakfast aromas. Hashbrowns and coffee. It's one of those dreams where you kind of know you're dreaming, and you try to hold on but it's fading fast into her subconscious.

Bright morning sun hits her eyes and the events of last night come trickling back to her, like blood leaking from a skull.

The bodies. The money.

Whitehorse. Swamp. Anna!

She rolls over to find Anna's body pressed up against her own. She is sitting up against the pillows and eating strips of bacon with her fingers out of a little styrofoam box, watching tv. The swelling on her face has eased slightly, and her nose is beginning to regain its original shape which is really lovely.

That's right, they went to a motel. They asked for two beds but Anna winked (not as subtle as she thought she was) at the receptionist so they ended up with just a double to share. Too exhausted to protest, Elsa had parked herself on the very edge of the mattress and drifted into a dead-to-the-world sleep. Despite their growing ease with each other, Anna was still her hostage, and Elsa was determined to uphold the utmost standard of honour until the game was over.

Of course, Anna had found her way across the mattress to Elsa, and two thirds of the bed remained unused. The sheets are still tucked in neatly over the right side.

'Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!' Anna smiles. She smells like soap and fruity shampoo.

Too foggy to think of anything else, Elsa mumbles, 'I'm a vegan.'

There's a moment of quiet as she regrets saying that. It's far too early to get into a deep philosophical argument or defend her protein intake. The chipper weatherman on tv points to cities and towns as the screen zooms in and out of the sunburnt continent.

'Balancing out your karma or something?'

Elsa nods, kind of in shock. Finally, someone gets it. Then again, most people don't know what she does for a living or how deep her karmic debt runs. She looks up from her sleepy nest, 'How many animals do you think I have to save to pay for one human life?'

'Hmm,' Anna takes a loud slurp of a bright pink smoothie, 'It really depends on the animal. And the human. I mean, I'd probably sell my brother for a capybara. No, wait, I would definitely sell Hans for a capybara. I've always wanted one. Have you seen them? They're so cute! But super illegal to keep as pets. Oh my god, would your people be able to get one? I'd take really good care of it!'

They probably could. Her people can get just about anything. One of Elsa's least favourite bases is literally guarded by a moat full of piranhas and crocodiles. 'I'll make an enquiry.'

As it turns out, Anna has purchased the full breakfast spread from a cafe down the road, with plenty of plant-based options. Mushrooms, tomatoes, hashbrowns, toast with avocado. Add that to waking up without a headache and it's shaping up to be a promising start to the day. One of the best Elsa has had in a long time. And also one of the strangest. Perhaps it was foolish, but she had expected to wake up alone. Not for Anna to leave, return and bring breakfast. It seems too nice. Something is surely about to go wrong. Maybe she stopped into the cop shop on the way here. Maybe they'll bust down the door any minute.

Anna turns up the tv as the newscaster reads out a story in her sombre journalist voice:
I'm standing in front of the Happy Camel hotel in Melbourne's outer northern suburbs where a man was shot and killed last night. The body of the thirty-four-year-old was found outside his car in the parking lot. Police believe the perpetrator was known to the man, and that the shooting is part of an ongoing problem with organised crime related violence in the area. They are continuing to investigate. In the meantime, the owner of the bar has this to say…

Anna raises an eyebrow and looks at Elsa, who turns away sheepishly, taking a sip of her coffee. 'What a tragic loss.'

An hour into the morning, Anna doesn't seem to be showing any sign of packing up. Her stuff is spread all around the bed. On her breakfast mission, she apparently purchased herself a pair of thongs, sunglasses, a bag of chocolate treats and a packet of smokes. She's deeply engaged in an episode of Judge Judy on tv. It's when she gets out a tub of nail polish that Elsa feels compelled to speak, 'Do you need a lift or something?'

'What?' Anna looks a little hurt.

Elsa opens her mouth, then closes it, not wanting to be a cold bitch for once in her life. 'You know, you don't have to stay here. You saved my ass. And my hand. I really owe you one. You're free to go, whenever you're ready.'

Anna's cigarette dangles from her mouth as she carefully paints the glittering green liquid onto her thumbnail, and holds out her right hand, looking at it with a satisfied smile. 'Maybe I'm not ready, yet.'

Elsa blinks rapidly in confusion. Is this another game? Her punishment?

Anna continues, 'Who's the hostage now, huh? Nah, but seriously. Don't you need to check your money? I've stuck it out this long. If you don't get paid, I've gone through all this for nothing. I killed someone, you know? That changes a person.'

And so a very baffled Elsa leaves the motel and finds a seedy internet cafe where her activity won't be tracked. She logs on to her encrypted account to find she is indeed eight million dollars richer. A lot of the money is pending, of course, but it's on its way. It seems like a dream. Like the screen might morph into a singing cow or something. She bumps into strangers on her way back to the motel, feeling like she's floating. Bubbles of emotion rise up into her throat, a sob here, a laugh there, she is truly overwhelmed. Speechless and teary - this must be what it feels like to win an Oscar.

Less than twenty-four hours ago she thought she was going to prison. Less than twelve hours ago she thought she was going to lose her hand. And now she's planning the logistics of how she will pay the big boss the remainder of her debt and say goodbye to a life of crime, forever.

A big, empty, open life stands before her and a question arises. She's been doing this so long. If she isn't doing crime, what will she do with her time? Who is she?

Mr and Mrs Arendelle are waiting somewhere in the vicinity of the 7/11. Soon, this nightmare will be over for everyone. A new day will begin. Anna fidgets and wriggles a lot in the car ride. She scratches the back of her neck, runs her fingers through her hair, straight up touches everything and makes small vocalisations like she's leading up to something. 'I was wondering…'

She's awfully hesitant. Elsa's stomach clenches. Something must be wrong. She'd better not have left something behind at the Blue House.

'If you wanna maybe, um, hang out or something? Like, in the near future?'

Oh.

Oh. Really? Elsa's brain slows down like an old computer, not comprehending. It's one thing to flirt with your captor when you're powerless and stuck with them. But now she's free and can go back to the real world with real people. 'W- with me?'

'Well yeah, I mean, if you want?' She bites her lip, raises her eyebrows, then looks away all bashful. So cute. Why is she so cute? It makes this harder. 'We don't have to. It's probably stupid. I just thought maybe-'

'Don't you have hundreds of friends?' Elsa can't help but interrupt. Her brain is making the blue screen of death now, the awful beep that says stop pressing buttons already - I'm overwhelmed! 'Normal friends who do normal friend things and don't put your life in danger and deprive you of your basic liberties and dignity and-'

'Yeah, yeah, I get it.' Anna lights a cigarette and puts her feet up on the dashboard. The green polish on her toes twinkles in the sun, 'You're morally confused and emotionally constipated and probably deeply sexually repressed, but I like a challenge. Anyway, that's getting off topic. My point is, you're honest about it, you know? I feel like I'm just surrounded by fake people. Copies of copies of copies, with the same ironic mullets, the same shitty tattoos, the same crap indie bands. They're not as funny as they think they are. They're not as interesting as they think they are. And they're all honestly terrible people as well but they're so. Damn. Smug and self righteous.'

She makes a good point. This is why Elsa doesn't keep in touch with anyone from her old school. Also because she was a weird loner with social anxiety and she didn't have any friends because she was always drawing anime and hissing at people. Actually, it was probably mostly the hissing. But she tells herself she just doesn't suffer no hipster bullshit.

'Yeah, that's the inner north for you.'

Anna nods, 'And you're kind of like a breath of fresh air.'

That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said about Elsa. It actually makes her feel… something. Something warm and fluffy inside. Like holding a baby bunny. It's probably also the nicest thing that ever will be said, because there is no way she can indulge in this. If she wants a new life, she needs to start doing the right thing. Making more ethical choices. Hard choices. 'Look, I'll admit that you're also… refreshing. But I think you might just have a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome going on. You had to believe that you liked me, to feel safer. But I did a terrible thing to you. When you get home, you should probably get some counselling and-'

'Oh, I definitely will, but seriously, please listen. I'm not saying I've enjoyed this whole experience but…'

That's a weird place for a "but" and a pause. Her tone is far too serious for some sex joke. It is one of those rare situations where Elsa truly cannot predict what could possibly come next. Anna is special like that.

Goddamn, she really is something special. Saying goodbye will be bittersweet. Mostly bitter.

'But I haven't been in the best place for a while. You know? Have you ever seen the movie Fight Club?'

'Yes…' Elsa says suspiciously. Everybody's seen Fight Club. But when somebody begins explaining something by asking if you've seen Fight Club, it never leads anywhere good… Still, she makes a left turn and steers them onto a detour. If there's anything she owes Anna, (and she owes her a lot) it's the chance to reflect and debrief. She heads for the quiet back streets of Parkville. The wide, leafy boulevards always help her collect her thoughts.

'You know that part at the start of the movie where the guy is just so jaded that he actually fantasises about his plane crashing? Like, he knows, objectively, that a plane crash would be bad and he would probably die but he's just so… empty. He needs something to shake up his life and give him perspective. You're like… my plane crash. Or my apartment exploding.'

It's not the worst analogy. After all, Elsa has set her fair share of houses on fire - always checking for pets first, of course. It's still sinking in that she'll never have to do that again. The smell of kerosine is such a bitch to get out of her clothes. She's still processing everything that's happened in the last few days. Apparently she takes too long processing, because Anna says in a small voice full of rejection, 'I mean, we don't have to. We could just say goodbye-'

'No! I mean, I didn't mean no.' God, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Elsa's face is burning. She's just not used to anyone wanting to spend time with her. It's honestly harder to believe than the eight million dollars in her bank account. She has the sense that she's being punk'd. That all her childhood bullies are going to jump out from the backseat and laugh at her for really believing that somebody likes her. 'I get what you're saying. I do, really. But outside of the whole crime thing, I'm pretty boring. You'll probably be disappointed.'

But no bullies emerge from the crevices. Anna just smiles that sweet (slightly evil) smile and stares right into her soul, and says, 'I know my life looks really fun from the outside, but the whole partying thing gets boring after a while, too. I'd like to do something different.'

Something different. Elsa isn't sure if she can handle Anna's idea of "different." Bungee jumping? Stealing police horses? That thing where you get in a cage and they lower you into a tank of sharks? 'Like what?'

'I don't know, like a movie?'

'A movie?'

'Or we could just skip straight to the sex, I mean, I wouldn't complain! You just strike me as the type who needs a little time to warm up-'

'Here.' Elsa passes her phone over, 'Put your number in.'

It's time for her to leave. They're just around the corner from the meeting point. If they put it off any longer, her dad will start calling, all hysterical. Anna punches her number into the keypad, hands the phone back and hesitates for a second. Then she leans over and plants a very chaste little kiss on Elsa's completely unprepared lips and runs off into the warm sun and fresh air of the outside world. Free at last in her Shrek T-shirt, rubber thongs flapping on the concrete ground.

Elsa's face burns and her heart thumps in her chest. She turns the air conditioner up to full blast because it's suddenly very hot in the car, and she feels a little breathless.

They see a horror movie for their first date. Both of them burst out laughing during the gore scenes. They just can't help it. All the angry shushing from other patrons just makes it even funnier. Tears stream down Elsa's face. Anna falls off her seat. They are removed by security.

On their second date, they go to Healesville animal sanctuary. Anna provokes the cassowary. Elsa pays the price. Luckily the rangers are on the ball and she only suffers a few broken bones. She enjoys the morphine, but Anna is removed from the hospital for riding on the IV poles like scooters.

Elsa is still recovering on the third date, so they go somewhere nice and safe. The National Gallery of Victoria. Being an unapologetic weeb, Elsa is keen to see the new Japanese history exhibit. Anna manages to get herself into one of the Samurai costumes and chase the other patrons with a sword. They are removed by security and banned for life.

Five years later…

After a long, fulfilling day of feeding soup to the homeless, teaching orphans to read and volunteering at the three-legged animal shelter, Elsa drives carefully on the winding mountain roads, up steep inclines and around tiny bends with the sharp drop to her side. She likes that she has to drive so carefully. It emphasises the value of their home. Not the monetary value (although that can't be understated). But the emotional, spiritual, thematic value. What it represents. It's not that Anna is ungrateful - her contagious optimism and lust for life is one of the reasons Elsa fell for her in the first place. The way she can walk into any situation and find a way to own it. But that's the difference between them. Anna walks through life commanding wonderful things to come her way, and they do. Whereas Elsa still wakes up sometimes and can't believe this isn't a dream.

It's starting to rain when she pulls up at her house, so she pulls her coat up over her head. Only half-heartedly though. She doesn't mind feeling a bit of nature on her skin. It reminds her she's alive and this is all real. She made it. She got out, with all her body parts still attached, and lived to tell another day. The smell of the lush alpine forest drinking in the rain never ceases to soothe her soul. The house is nestled safely between tall trees, under a lush canopy, draped in branches and flowers and giant ferns. Soft moss licks at the corners of the red brick foundations, and patterned curtains flutter in the breeze from the open windows.

She takes a moment to appreciate the scene. The stairs creak under her boots as she approaches the porch with its cosy couch, cushions and blankets in soothing pastel colours. On their little wooden table, two crude mugs she made herself in a ceramics class sit pressed together as if in an embrace. The eco-friendly lanterns and potted herbs snaking their way up the lattice. Elsa's very first few bird feeders hanging from the edge of the roof. Inside, a stack of papers sits on the bench. She starts sorting through the mail. There's the usual junk mail, politicians making promises they won't keep, local community initiatives happening in the region - they're an exclusive people here in the mountain but quite warm once you prove your worth. She rolls her eyes when she sees a copy of That's Life! It's been years since Anna bought one of those trashy magazines with their ridiculous made-up stories. She's about to toss it aside when the headline catches her eye and her heart jumps into her throat for just a second. I Married My Kidnapper!

She'd really thought Anna was joking about this. She should have known better by now. Still, there's nothing she can do but flip it open and skim the article, letting sentences pop out at her…

...My wife may have once been a ruthless killer, who could slit a man's throat without blinking twice, but the most intimidating thing about her remains to this day, her incredible rack. As if sculpted by the gods themselves…

The physical description goes on for quite a while before the plot, if you can call it that, begins...

...but my effort to escape was futile. She chased me down with the speed and strength of an Amazonian warrior queen and hoisted me over her chiselled shoulder while her toned abs rippled in the hot sun. This was when I realised that while she had locked me in a van, she had unlocked something in my loins…

...on the outside I was bound and helpless, but on the inside I came undone as she sexily smoked her cigarette…

… beneath her hardened exterior, I found a kind and gentle soul, like any other, longing for love and affection…

… it seemed someone had taken out a hit on my heart...

Elsa would laugh if it didn't make her so anxious. Anna constantly changes her story as to how they met, always thinking up something funnier and more subversive. Elsa can't even keep up sometimes, and more than one mutual friend has begun to raise an eyebrow upon hearing a totally different story recounted at group events and introductions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she is sure that she couldn't have really gotten away with all of it. That her past will surely catch up with her. At any moment, all of this could be ripped away and she will find herself wearing a boxy prison jumpsuit, eating slop and catching a shiv in the kidney over a box of biscuits or something.

The fear lessens with each passing year, and perhaps one day it will leave her completely. But for now she responds by choosing to enjoy every moment. The warmth and cheer of their house. The fun that Anna brings to her life. The safety and the peace that she feels within this loving sanctuary.

Anna arises from her slumber on the couch. She reminds Elsa of when they first met, bleary eyed and with her hair sticking up in all directions. 'Make me a coffee, babe?'

Elsa still loves using their fancy shmancy espresso machine. The shiny hard metal, the tidiness of it, the whole process is deeply satisfying, especially when she's just finished making her own batch of almond milk. She sometimes thinks about getting a job, maybe one shift a week in the local hipster coffee shop, just for the hell of it. She doesn't need the money, of course. Anna doesn't either, but she does her job out of pure love. And what better job than basically being a professional party-thrower? Okay, so she's an events planner for the ultra-rich. In an emperor's-new-clothes kind of fashion, they gush over every wacky and zany idea she comes up with. Jellyfish in the punch? Bold! An ice sculpture of an orgy? Subversive! A fountain of Fanta? Youthful!

She has truly found her calling.

Anna's body presses in behind her with party-smells of champagne and cigars. She squeezes Elsa's waist with one arm and picks up the magazine proudly with the other, 'Oh did you see, my story got published!'

Unable to move, Elsa simply says, 'Hm.'

'I can't believe they really published it! And they pay me a hundred dollars!' She sounds so excited about that last part, you'd think she was short on her rent. 'They had me change it a little bit though. Apparently some parts were gratuitous.' She uses air-quotes for that last part, 'But you know me, I hate to compromise a story's integrity.'

'You're compromising my integrity right now.' Elsa squeaks through the tight grip.

Anna squeezes tighter and plants a kiss on Elsa's cheek before releasing her and rummaging through the mail, 'Oh, and did you see this!'

She holds a violet parchment card with silver lace on the edges. Beautiful calligraphy lettering invites them to join Barry and Joe in a celebration of their love and commitment to one another. It's going to be a spring wedding on the coast. An excuse to fly north where it's warmer.

'I can't believe our plan really worked,' Elsa turns the pretty card over in her fingers. They hadn't really expected anything to come of it, back when they were planning their own wedding. The decision to seat their respective gay uncles together was mostly conveinence - the seating plan was a nightmare. That they would actually hit it off and make it this far came as a surprise to everyone.

Anna gasps, suddenly spinning to face Elsa and- oh no. She's got that evil look. 'Do you know what this makes us?'

'Uh…' An odd question. 'Master matchmakers? Gay cupids? Cultivators of love?'

'Step-cousins.'

'Step… cousins?' Elsa doesn't quite follow, 'I don't think that's a thing.'

'Oh, it's definitely a thing,' Anna devours her coffee in one swig and crashes into Elsa, backing her into the wall and whispering in her ear, 'It's incest and it's very, very taboo.'

'I don't think it works-'

'We could be exiled from our deeply conservative medieval kingdom. Which also has dragons. And sentient trees that watch us fuck.'

Oh, right, now Elsa's following. It's been a while since they've done a good role play. She doesn't argue that cousin-marriage was probably very common in medieval times amongst the nobility. Anna's role-plays can become quite complex and suspending disbelief is key to losing oneself in them. It's taken a long time, but Elsa has learnt to let go of her need for realism, and it's highly rewarding.

They tumble to their bedroom where stars are just beginning to emerge in the skylight window above them. Anna opens the costume chest and throws garments over her shoulder. Zoot suits and leashes and handcuffs and other tools of the trade. The sexy shark costume, the sexy Shrek costume, sexy Chewbacca, sexy robot, sexy Tellitubby - they don't talk about that one. She tosses a fair maiden dress at Elsa who obediently changes, trying to keep track of the details Anna is telling her about this universe - they might be important down the track and it will break the immersion if she mixes up the noble houses.

'Oh sweet cousin, whatever are we to do?' Anna's hands push Elsa's shoulders down onto the soft bed as climbs on top of her. She whispers between ear nibbles that send shivers down Elsa's spine, 'You are to be wed to the horrid Lord Nutterbutter of the Spanknickle Valley and I shalln't ever see you again?'

Elsa pulls her closer, runs fingernails down Anna's back and whispers back. She's been trained well. She knows exactly what comes next. 'Then we shall have to murder His Lordliness and his whole family too, shalln't we?'

Anna moans and bucks into Elsa, 'A river of blood shall pour down the streets of Ass-doria, declaring our undying passion, dear cousin. For I would sever a thousand heads to make you mine, and set them on spikes for all the realm to see.'

Elsa knows that within the silliness exists a trace of the truth, because she would sever a thousand heads for Anna too, if it came down to that. Both of them would lie, steal and kill for each other. Their love has already overcome the challenge of meeting under the most unromantic circumstances imaginable. Everything else is golden.