Warning: Slight lemon.

Chapter Six

"Now will you let me hit her?" Merida banged her glass on the counter, already halfway to being sloshed. Which was saying quite a lot since Merida had the strongest liver among the three. Anna was long gone, her mind already swimming in a mostly happy haze; her vision swam too, and she wondered why Kristoff was dancing on his stool.

The bar wasn't crowded, it was a weekday after all. But Anna thought it was the perfect time to get drunk – hey, school was starting in two weeks and then she would have to be sober for the rest of the semester; and her two housemates lived up to their role of best friends by tagging gamely along.

Kristoff though, was rapidly regretting consenting to coming along. "Hang on. Violence never solves anything." he said, eyeing his two best friends warily. He was the designated driver tonight, and he already knew he would be mopping up the other two – and the apartment too – when they got home later.

"Yes it does! It will make me feel better!" Merida said indignantly.

"You're being awfully nonchalant about Elsa's return, Kristoff." Anna slurred. "And will you please stop swaying, you're making me dizzy."

"O-okay." Kristoff reached over and plucked Anna's glass from her hand. Anna pouted, and slid into his lap trying to get it back.

"Enough, Anna. You're drunk."

"Not enough," she giggled. "I'm still feeling it. I wanna stop feeling. Gimme my glass."

"You'll thank me in the morning, trust me." Kristoff sighed, and drew Anna in so she could rest her burning forehead against his shoulder. He was rewarded for his pains with an elbow in his stomach.

"You're too warm. I need some ice." Anna groaned, pushing him away.

"You're not bothered by Elsa's return." Merida accused. "You won't let me hit her. I thought you were our friend." She jabbed a finger at him for emphasis, which would work better if she wasn't pointing it a few inches above his shoulder at the fake reindeer head mounted on a plate hanging on the wall.

"I am your friend." Kristoff said gruffly, "But… I'm Elsa's friend too. And she's miserable. No one here is giving her a good time as it is. "

Anna pushed against him. "You traitor."

"I'm not sitting here arguing with two drunks." Kristoff said, throwing up his arms in resignation as Anna clambered off him.

"I don't want to talk to you anymore, you're mean." Anna said, leaning against Merida instead.

"You're supposed to be on our side." Merida poked Kristoff in the ribs.

"Look, guys. Listen. Anna, Elsa loved you." Kristoff said, taking Merida's glass from her too. "Look at this from an objective point of view. Elsa loved you. Maybe she had to leave. Maybe something happened, or maybe there was something she had to do."

"Then she should have told me instead of writing me off like that." Anna said, "How do you know she loved me?"

"A blind man could have told you she loved you. And her coming back here and getting a job and an apartment to be close to you, well, that means she wants to be something with you again, right? She's trying. Maybe this time she will tell you."

"Nah. I won't go near her with a ten feet pole." Anna said convincingly.

"She's just next door, she's practically asking for it. I'm gonna punch her in the face. Welcome her to the neighborhood, ya know?" Merida said.

Kristoff threw up his arms. "There is no reasoning with drunks."

Two hours later saw Kristoff wearily stumbling out of the elevator at their floor, one arm around Merida, the other around Anna. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and strong like his father, which was a good thing because lugging around two near-unconscious females was no easy feat. Especially when they were not too far gone to stop singing and wiggling.

When Elsa opened her door to see who was singing I will ride, I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky! at the top of their lungs, this was the sight that greeted her. Kristoff, with the aspiring singer Merida heaved over one shoulder, and one arm around Anna to keep her from slipping all the way to the floor.

Their eyes met, and both blondes simply stared at each other for a moment.

He had filled out, Elsa thought weakly. He was no longer the tall, gangly boy who had looked like someone grabbed him by the head and legs and pulled in opposite directions. He had grown into the feet that had always seemed too large for his body.

She was too thin, Kristoff thought grimly. Too thin, too pale, too sad, and tragically beautiful in her huge nightdress. She also looked very young, standing there in the door, looking as lost as she had been the very first time he saw her.

He opened his mouth, and she hitched up a shoulder, as though preparing for a blow. No one had welcomed her home, and she wasn't expecting him to do it either. His heart went out to her.

"Sorry about her. She only sings when she's drunk." He said, with a tentative smile. Elsa peered in confusion over the shoulder she had hitched up, as though wondering who Kristoff was addressing. She saw his smile, and returned it with a tentative one of her own.

"She's still shy about it, huh?"

"She's a terrific singer, but she's the only who doesn't think so." Kristoff let his smile widen. "Hello, Elsa. Welcome back."

Tears simply rushed into her eyes, and they both stood there awkwardly, not looking at each other until Elsa managed to blink them away. Anna chose that moment to turn in Kristoff's hold, and the two blondes stiffened when she peered blearily around at Elsa.

"Hey! It's Elsa! She's back!"

Anna flung herself out of Kristoff's grip, and Elsa found her arms full of wiggling, giggling Anna. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol, and Elsa knew this hug was alcohol-induced, knew it; but her arms tightened around Anna, and when Kristoff, face concerned, made a move to come nearer, she turned them both away. She needed this hug, needed this like she had not known she needed until Anna was in her arms.

Seven years. She had missed this, missed Anna like she missed part of her heart. Missed her missed her missed her. And now here she was, intoxicated, but here. She buried her face into strawberry blond curls, and the tears simply would not stop. As her shoulders heaved, she knew she was using Anna again, using her for comfort when Anna was not in full control of her thoughts, but she could not bring herself to let go. In the quiet of the night, all seemed bleak and hopeless, and she thought desperately that this might be the only time she would get to hold Anna.

"Elsa…" Kristoff hovered, helplessly, swaying as Merida was still over his shoulder, now humming to herself under her breath and seemingly oblivious to what was going on around her.

"Please… please Kristoff, let me have this." She wanted to ask for more. When Anna gave a moan and burrowed closer, Elsa instinctively lowered her body temperature, just like the time a younger Anna had been drunk for the first time and wanted Elsa to "cool her down". Anna gave a satisfied sigh, and laid her head on Elsa's shoulder with a contented smile.

Love swelled even as the tears fell. Elsa pressed her head to Anna's, closing her eyes. She wanted to stay like this forever, she wanted to pull Anna into her, in with her, to her apartment, to her room, curl up with her on her bed. Oh how she wanted. When Kristoff caught hold of Anna's arm gently, Elsa clung all the more ferociously.

"Please."

"You know you can't, Elsa. You know I can't let you, either. Anna will be furious when she wakes up tomorrow. And by not letting her go now, you are pushing her further away." Kristoff said gently.

"Just for a while, then. For a while longer. Please?"

Kristoff sighed. For a moment he hesitated, then let the hand holding Anna's arm drop away. "I'll put Merida to bed, give you two a moment."

In the silence they left behind, Elsa kept her eyes closed, listening to Anna's breathing. Anna was humming to herself, and with a pang Elsa recognized the tune – do you want to build a snowman. Anna's eyes opened, looking up at Elsa curiously. Her eyes were so blue, so blue; Elsa could get lost in them forever.

"Hey, Elsa. Why are you crying?"

Elsa's voice caught in a choke. "I missed you, so much."

Anna giggled. "Silly girl. You never needed to miss me. I'm always here."

"I'm so sorry." She knew she needed to say it to a sober Anna, but she needed to say it now, or she would go crazy.

"It's alright. Don't cry anymore, Elsa." Anna said.

When Kristoff came back, Elsa had moved Anna to her couch; Kristoff could see because Elsa had kept her door opened. She had wanted to close it, so much. To close the door and shut everyone else and everything else outside the door, but she knew she could not. Kristoff stood for a moment at the door, watching quietly as Elsa sat rocking Anna gently, cheek against Anna's hair, eyes closed.

Why did you leave?

"She's asleep." Elsa whispered when Kristoff walked up to her, not opening her eyes. "Just… be gentle so she doesn't wake up."

Kristoff just stood there for a moment. While most of Elsa's furniture was already in place, there were still boxes piled in the living room. The walls were bare, cold. When Kristoff and Merida and Anna had moved into their apartment, their families and friends had tagged along, offering to help. For days their place had been filled with laughter, increasingly inappropriate jokes, the sound of moving furniture, and people complaining loudly about the work. It had been tiring, and sometimes the extra people were more hindrance then help. And the people who came and went made the event more enjoyable.

Where were the people offering to help Elsa move?

"I'd offer you a drink, but I'm fresh out." Elsa said, voice soft so as not to wake Anna.

Kristoff nodded absently, looking around. "Look. I get off work tomorrow at four. I'll come by to give you a hand with the boxes."

The silence that greeted his offer made him turn back to look at Elsa. She looked stunned, as though Kristoff had clubbed her over the head instead of offering her help. Her reaction was the last straw. Kristoff reached out and smoothed a hand down her hair, watching as her eyes closed at the gesture, sheer relief on her face.

"The guys gave you a hard time, huh." He said softly. Elsa offered a tight smile.

"I don't blame them." She said quietly.

"Neither do I. It was a rotten thing to do, Elsa, leaving just like that." Kristoff didn't mean to bring it up, so soon, so suddenly. But the words came unbidden.

She looked miserable. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you at the café, Kristoff. I just… I want you to know that I think it's a great place, and I'm very proud of you, if that matters. I didn't… I didn't talk to you because I know that you're Anna's best friend and…"

"Wait, what?" Light dawned on Kristoff. "You think this is about what happened between you and Anna?"

"Isn't it?" Elsa said, not looking at him. Anna gave a soft moan in her sleep, and Elsa combed her fingers gently through her hair, quieting her.

"I can't say it doesn't play a factor. But it's not all about Anna. We were your friends, too, Elsa."

Elsa flinched at the were. But Kristoff pressed on. "We were your friends. We did everything together. And then one day you were just gone. No goodbyes, no warning. Only Anna knew, and she was incoherent with her misery when we tried asking where you were. At least she knew you were gone." He could still remember the bewilderment, and the hurt. "You didn't say goodbye. We went by your house. Your parents told us you left for college."

"I did." Elsa said, lamely.

"You changed your number. You deleted your Facebook account, your Twitter. You never replied to our emails. What part of college requires your cutting off all contact from your friends?" He had more anger than he realized, was more hurt than he realized. "You cut us off, Elsa. And we couldn't help thinking, maybe you never cared that much about us anyway."

"I did. I do." There were fresh tears in Elsa's eyes now, brimming but not falling. She had cried so much in the last few days, she was exhausted from it.

"Then you have a lot to prove to the guys." His soft heart went gooey at her misery. With a sigh he pulled her into a half hug. "There now. Don't cry, Elsa."

"I'm sorry, Kristoff. You've always been my friends, all of you. I've missed you every day after I left."

"Okay." Said Kristoff, patting the top of her head. It was that easy, Elsa realized, the easy acceptance, the offered comfort. And the guilt intensified because forgiveness had been granted even before she had finished asking for it. "That's it? You don't want me to maybe grovel a little?" she sniffed.

"I think you've suffered enough." Kristoff said. "But I think with Anna, you'll grovel plenty. You really hurt her, Elsa. Especially when Hans told us about your boyfriend just a week into your new life in the city."

He noted the way she stiffened, the confusion churning in her eyes turning to comprehension and then to a quiet, simmering anger, and filed it carefully away for further consideration.

"He said that, huh? What else did Hans say after I left?" she said quietly.

"That you fitted very well into your new life, had tons of new friends – Ariel, Belle, Cindy. Told us there was no need to worry about you."

There was frustration as well as anger in her eyes now. "I… see." She turned to look at the sleeping Anna, slumped against her, and her eyes softened. With a sigh she pressed a kiss to Anna's hair, lingering for a moment before pulling back.

This time, when Kristoff reached out to take Anna, Elsa did not protest. There was a bleak look in her eyes when she followed them to the door. Kristoff turned back to look at her when he reached their door; Elsa stood there in her doorway, very much alone.

"There was no boyfriend, was there, Elsa?" he asked.

Elsa shook her head. "There was no boyfriend. No girlfriend either." She said quietly. "There never had been, nor will there ever be, anyone else but Anna."

Kristoff nodded. "You need to tell her that."

You need to tell her that. Easier said than done. Elsa thought sourly.

She spent the next three days holed up in her apartment to clean and clear out the boxes. It saddened her, a little, to find that her entire life fitted into just four boxes. Clothes and more clothes. Some books. A few photo albums. Some souvenirs from her colleagues who had traveled abroad. A shoe box containing all the little things she treasured.

Her parents came over, brought food, offered help. Elsa accepted the food and gently declined the help. She didn't need help, she insisted, she was tired because she had not been sleeping well, not because the move had tired her out. Her father left without a fight, with was unusual, then the reason for his lack of protest became apparent when he came back with a moving truck carrying a brand-new piano. It wasn't the grand piano still sitting in her parents' house, but Elsa missed the instrument so much that she barely protested when the moving people manhandled it into her small living room.

"Dad, you really shouldn't have." she said.

"My girl loves the piano." Was his simple reply.

In the evenings Kristoff knocked on her door. He helped moved some of the furniture around when Elsa wanted to put down a carpet in the living room. He hung some framed pictures on the walls for her. He also helped set up her television, her computer, and all the other electronic stuff that stumped her. When she asked, tentatively, if Anna was okay with his helping her out, Kristoff shrugged.

"You're my friend, too." was his simple response.

When Kai and Gerda Anderson showed up bearing gifts, Elsa wanted to cry.

"Aren't you at least a little angry for the way I left?" she asked them as Gerda set down the apple pie baked exactly the way Elsa had loved as a child while Kai handed over the huge bouquet of flowers. Gerda smiled in understanding; Kai looked baffled.

"Why would we?" Kai said.

"We love you too, Elsa." Gerda said gently.

Three days. And now she was alone, in her new apartment, furnished according to her taste. Elsa did not know what to make of her emotions. All the anger, frustration, guilt, misery. She had not seen Anna since that night, and found herself wondering where she was, who she was with, what she was doing, how she was. She refrained from peeping every time the door opposite hers opened. Each time it did, she wondered if it were Anna. Sometimes it would be Anna and Merida and Kristoff, and Elsa would hear the low hum of conversation as they passed by the door. It took all she had to not fling it open and beg to be included.

Love, she thought, was not all sunshine and roses as the stories and songs made out to be. So often it hurt, and so often the pain was unbearable. But people could not seem to live without it, could not seem to escape from it. Maybe because the alternative was loneliness, and that was worse.

Suddenly her apartment seemed too small. The walls seemed to press in on her, and her breath hitched. She could not stay here, alone, she needed to escape, she needed to just go.

She had her hand on the door handle when she realized where she intended to go. Next door. To Anna. It was almost instinct. The need gnawed at her, gnawed until she had to stand there with her hands balled tight into fists and take deep breaths.

She could not run to Anna. She no longer had the right. Right that moment, she heard it. The footsteps on the stairs, the happy bark of Kristoff's puppy Sven, and Anna's laughing voice. "Hey! Sven, give that back!"

Elsa stood there, numb, heart pounding. Through the ringing in her ears she heard the door opposite open and close. Anna was back, from the sound of it, alone. The need in her roared. But she knew she would not, could not, should not, because Kristoff was right; by going over now she would only push Anna further away. She had to wait for Anna to come to her.

She rubbed her wet eyes, sat down at the piano stool. Blindly she ran her hands over the keys. Maybe some music would soothe. She doubted anything could. But the familiar keys called to her, and from memory she started to play. It was sometime before she realized what she was playing.

My Best Friend, by Jason Chen. It had been a favorite in her teenage years, when she had played it over and over, thinking her feelings for Anna was not reciprocated. Then, when they had been together, it had been their song.

She was playing it a second time when the pounding on her door started. Still dazzled by the swirl of emotions in her, she went to answer it without checking who it was.

It was Anna, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. She looked sexy and superbly pissed off.

"Cut it out."

"I… what?" was all Elsa could manage.

"I said, cut it out." Anna jabbed a finger at her. "You have no right. No right to play that song after what you did. That was…" she stopped, stared at Elsa. "What happened to you? You look like hell. Life in our little town not agreeing with you, Arendelle?" She raised a hand, pressed it to Elsa's forehead to check her temperature. And Elsa snapped.

She lunged, grabbed Anna and crashed their mouths together. The kiss burned through her, a fiery joy, a pounding in her whole body. She felt Anna's resistance, and deepened the kiss, and with a growl Anna grabbed her. They grappled, somehow managed to slam the door shut, and dragged each other to the couch. She tore at Anna's shirt, pulling it roughly over her head, a tiny part of her brain blaring a repeating warning of don't do this don't do this don't do this; but Anna's hands were in her hair, over her shoulders, pulling her shirt open and popping buttons, and that warning was over-ridden by oh gosh now now now now now.

They flipped, Anna was on top now, pinning Elsa to the couch with her body. Hands roamed over breasts, over stomach, the inside of her thighs. Her pants were gone just like that. Elsa reared up, took a breast in her hand, then took it with her mouth. Anna arched, snaked a hand between their bodies, found her wet and hot. Elsa bucked, mewling as the sensations flooded her, and rolled. They landed on the carpet, Elsa barely registering the fall as she was too busy pulling off Anna's shorts and underwear. Anna shoved her over, shoved her open, and drove into her in one smooth thrust.

Elsa couldn't speak, she thought she squeaked, she didn't know. She clung to Anna, arms and legs, as each thrust made stars burst in her vision, made her blood sing. It had been so long, too long. She sobbed as Anna reached between them, rubbed her with knowing fingers. It was too intense, the sensations overlaying each other. Too intense, too fast, and oh please don't stop. Anna shifted, hit a spot deep inside her. And the orgasm slammed into her, tearing her up from the loins, rippling up from loins to her belly to her head to her limbs. Anna slammed into her, once, twice, throbbed mightily inside her, and collapsed.

For a moment all was perfect, Anna inside her, Anna in her arms, Anna's weight pinning her to the floor. Then she shifted off her, and the moment was gone. And what she had done washed over her, leaving Elsa cold with dread.

Without looking at her, Anna reached for her underwear and shorts. Defeated, Elsa curled into herself, closing her eyes tightly. She would not cry, not until Anna left, not until she was alone.

"You know, next time, if you ever want a quickie, just knock on my door. No need to lure me here under false pretense." Anna's voice was flat, emotionless. Elsa curled tighter in on herself, a full body compress against the misery fighting to set in. she felt Anna getting up, heard her footsteps crossing the room, and waited for the door to slam.

Instead there was a sigh, and the footsteps came back. There was the sound of pulling fabric, and Elsa opened her eyes. Anna was pulling the cover off the couch, and then she was kneeling beside her, wrapping it around her body, lifting her up onto the couch, into her lap.

When had she gotten so strong?

"What is wrong with you? Are you ill?" Anna asked roughly, a hand on her forehead. There was worry in her eyes despite the tone of her voice, and Elsa had to shut hers against the gratitude, the love, the tenderness that welled up from deep inside. Wordlessly, she pressed her face into Anna's shoulder, completely giving in. if Anna pushed her away now, her heart would simply shatter.

Anna swore under her breath. "I can't believe this, after all you've done, you…" she cut herself off with a sigh. For a moment there was silence. Elsa just lay there, waiting for the axe to fall. She was so tired. She did not have the will to fight anything now.

Another sigh from Anna. "Gosh, Elsa. What do you want from me?" The question was soft, as were the fingers that started to thread carefully through her hair. When there had been burning heat and animalistic lust, here was tenderness, and the need to soothe. Elsa could feel it, feel it in the way Anna shifted so Elsa lay more comfortably against her, feel it in the way her arms tightened around her.

"Just sleep. You really do look terrible." Anna sounded defeated too, as though she was as tired as Elsa was, so tired that she was not fighting anything now either.

Elsa laid her head on Anna's heart, closed her eyes. And as she had needed, as she had longed for all those years she had left, Anna held her.