Elsa sat at the defendant's table in courtroom 3C, of Manhattan's County Courthouse. Next to her sat a skinny, nervous-looking man. He was fidgeting and had already drained half of the water pitcher before them. Elsa nursed her own water, while she went back over her notes for her opening statement. The prosecution had just finished theirs and had successfully painted the younger Kuzco as a dangerous sociopath intent on causing mayhem and spreading cocaine to all of their children. Fortunately, she'd never known Peter to be able to compete with her in the courtroom, even with a case as cut and dry as this one.
The honorable Judge Maleficent turned to her, "Any time now, Ms. Agnarrsen."
Elsa stood from her seat, leaving her notes on the table, and sauntered over to the spot between the witness stand and the jury box. "Ladies and gentleman of the jury," she began, "My esteemed colleague has raised a number of very compelling points. Truly, he has painted my client as a monster. He insisted that he stole a car, while incredibly intoxicated, and intended to sell over four pounds of cocaine while in a state in which he could barely walk. He makes my client sound like a criminal mastermind. Please, take a look at him," the jury looked between her client and the prosecution. "He's an idiot." Kuzco started to defend himself, but surrendered immediately under her cold gaze. Peter smoldered in his chair. "The prosecution hasn't even charged him with stealing the vehicle, it was his friend's car, so it was not unreasonable for him to borrow it. He had had a few too many drinks, and yes, he should be punished for that –by all means, suspend his license– but he didn't hurt anyone; he barely made it two miles before crashing into a sign post. There was simply no way he could have possibly been aware of the drugs in the trunk. It wasn't his car. I'm sure at least a few of you have been drunk before, do you think you'd have had the presence of mind to check the car you were borrowing for illegal narcotics? Of course not; give me two beers and I'm already forgetting my purse." The jury laughed. "Mr. Kuzco made a stupid mistake. He admits to that, and he is truly sorry. He does not deserve to spend the next thirty years in prison for this mistake." Several members of the jury nodded in agreement. "I'm not asking you to forgive him, I'm not asking you to condone his behavior, but just look at this man, does he look like he could possibly have the intent to do anything?" She gestured towards her client, her hands stretched just wide enough that her pinky almost seemed to indicate Mr. Pan as well. "Of course not, he's an idiot." This was answered by more laughter from the jury. Peter jumped from his chair as if to object, only to pause when he wasn't sure what objection he could make. A slight smile rose on Elsa's lips as she walked back to her chair.
Mr. Pan glowered at her from his seat at the other table. She had made similar remarks to him back in law school after he had completely forgotten the entirety of his affidavit in mock trial when he was on the witness stand. He had almost been in tears afterwards. Anna is definitely wrong about my being a good person. He had been an expert witness for the defense in a case about a woman who had killed her abusive husband. He couldn't recall what Battered Woman's Syndrome was. He had only described it as a woman who was beaten. It completely ruined their defense and cost them the trial. Idiot was putting it gently.
Several minutes passed with Peter only staring straight ahead, lost in thought. Eventually, Judge Maleficent had to ask, "Mr. Pan? Are you going to call your first witness or are you just going to keep admiring the witness stand? Sure, it's a very lovely stand, freshly polished, but it's a bit more impressive with someone in it. How about you at least give yourself something more dynamic to stare at?"
He glowered back at the judge, but stood and cleared his throat. "Right, of course, your honor. The prosecution calls," he faltered for a minute, Elsa's words echoing through his head. "The prosecution calls to the stand, Mr. Pacha Alvarez."
After a moment, a large man in an ill-fitted suit appeared in the witness stand. "Hey," Pacha greeted the court room.
The bailiff swore him in, and the direct examination could begin. "Mr. Pacha."
"That's Mr. Alvarez, Pacha is my first name, dude," the man retorted.
"Right, Mr. Alvarez, where were you the night of the incident?"
"At home? I don't know, it was a couple weeks ago. I was probably hanging out with Kuzco."
Pan stared at him, barely able to focus on his words, but reasonably confident that they were not helping him. "I have it in your statement that you were..." he thumbed through pages, unable to find the one he was looking for. As he searched he knocked several of the pages onto the floor. He picked up a section that seemed to relate to his case from its resting place at his feet and continued, "And I quote, 'playing Call of Duty with my bro, Kuzco'."
"That sounds like me," Pacha agreed.
Peter stared at the affidavit, this wasn't the right page. He couldn't find that one that said that Kuzco had left. "And was Kuzco there the whole time?"
Elsa objected and Peter gave her a frightened stare. "Your honor, he's leading the witness."
"Mr. Pan, please rephrase your question."
He looked blankly at Pacha, his mind racked with doubts from Elsa's opening speech. He searched desperately for an open-ended question. "How would you describe the accused?"
"The movie or Kuzco?"
"Kuzco."
"He's my best bro. I mean we didn't start off great, but now we hang out all the time. He'd never hurt a fly, he's just a big fluffy teddy bear."
The redhead closed his eyes in pain and contemplation. "Your honor?" he addressed Judge Maleficent.
"Yes, Mr. Pan?"
"May I have a moment to discuss a settlement with opposing council?"
"I believe that would be wise." She called a recess.
Peter led Elsa to a conference room just outside. "You have some nerve!" he squeaked as she shut the door.
"Yes, yes I do," Elsa agreed, staring down at the ginger. "Your point?"
"That was uncalled for! It was so unprofessional. You were just trying to rub the past in my face! You think just because I've made mistakes before that I'll make them again!"
"All I did was make my opening statements, not a word of that was untrue of Kuzco, and it certainly wasn't directed at you. As for making you repeat your mistakes, quite frankly if you forget your testimony as expert witness in this trial, I'm going to be very confused."
"Well your opening statement was just mean! And it was pointless anyway, none of what you said had any legal standing." he fumed.
"Then why have you called me in here?" Elsa smirked.
Peter glared up at the blonde, hating her for her ability to control people. "Just because the jury liked what you said doesn't mean they'll ignore the law in this case. It doesn't matter if he knew it was in the car, it was still in his possession."
"Aw, you did actually learn something in law school. Nevertheless, intoxication is a reasonable defense, and diminishes much of his crimes, save of course for the DUI. Even if, as you're convinced, the jury does see reason, they won't believe that he had any intent."
Peter scowled. "So what do you want?"
Elsa's smirk grew. "You're the one that called me in here, tell me what you're offering."
"Ten years, intent to distribute."
"Don't be absurd, even if you won, he'd be unlikely to even serve five years. He'll pay a fine of $100,000, lose his license until he completes the standard classes, and serve two months in jail."
Peter stared into the cold calculating eyes of his opponent. He wanted desperately to take something from her, but as mad as he was, she would only trip him up more as the case went on. There would be another chance. "200,000 and a year. Final offer."
"150 and six months," Elsa allowed.
Peter gritted his teeth in frustration, but nodded. "Fine."
"I have a good relationship with Judge Maleficent, she'll accept this agreement. I'll go give my client the good news, and I'll give you a moment to compose yourself." She left the room, leaving a red-faced lawyer behind her, his hatred ignited anew.
Elsa was correct: Maleficent had agreed to the terms, happy to be rid of the trial. The younger Kuzco burst into tears. "You said I wouldn't be locked up! You said everything would be fine!" he sobbed, glancing back and forth between his lawyer and his father, uncertain where to focus his anger.
The senior Kuzco clapped a hand upon his son's back and looked warmly at the lawyer. "Ms. Agnarrsen, I have to say, I am very impressed. You're even better than Albert told me you were." He took her hand in a strong grasp.
Elsa faltered. Gaston was talking me up to clients?! Collecting herself, she replied, "I'm glad I was able to help. I'm only sorry I couldn't do more."
"Please, six months and $150,000 is a small price to pay for the vast mistakes my son made. I can only hope he learns his lesson from this."
"Fat chance!" the younger Kuzco shouted as he was escorted away to serve his time in the county jail. His father only watched the procession coolly.
While she waited at a light on the way back to the office, Elsa re-read the email her sister had sent her the night before. It was nowhere near the response she had been expecting. She had expected confusion, rage, and pain. She supposed she'd seen all of that, but it wasn't directed at her.
Tears had filled her eyes as she'd typed her response, almost blocking her view of the screen. "I love you, Anna. You have no idea how much it means to me that you think I'm a good person. I only wish I could believe it too. I'm so sorry for keeping all of this from you. I promise, when things are settled at work, Tiana and I will visit. I'm sure I can even get her to sign as many things as you want. You're practically her family.
I'm sorry for making you question yourself. I wish I could answer your questions for you, all I can say is that I always knew I was gay, but I've known plenty of women who didn't realize until later in their lives. No matter what you end up learning about yourself, I'll still support you, and I promise I'll support you better than I have these last few years. You will always be my little sister (unless your self-discovery involves gender identity, then you'll be my little sibling of that gender). I'm here for you while you sort this out, and if you never manage to figure yourself out, that's fine too."
Anna still hadn't replied. She only hoped that her sister was okay. She was going through far too much right now for one person to handle, even as strong-willed as Anna had always been. Elsa reminisced affectionately about her sister bullheadedly resisting her every rule. Even at the time she couldn't hold it against her; she would have reacted the same way. Anna would break curfew, spend the night at Kristoff's, and in general do whatever she wanted to do. At least, unlike Elsa, she had actually had a way of grieving instead of keeping it in.
A honk from behind her brought her back from memory lane to the very real road that she was currently on. The light had finally turned green and she continued on her way.
After returning to her office, Elsa began looking over the Thompson case. She had a meeting with the client before the end of the day, and she had very little to tell him yet. Forcing herself to research ways to prevent that monster from paying even a pittance for the life he ended was too much for her. However, she wasn't going to make equity without it, and if she didn't make equity then she likely wouldn't be around for much longer. Non-equity partner is almost always a temporary position and even if they were willing to keep her as one, it was not a position she wanted to maintain. Before she retired here, she was determined to see her name above the door. Gaston, Philip, de Ville, and Agnarrsen does have a certain ring to it.
After several hours of going through all of the facts of the case and any precedent she could find, she was startled by a knock at the door. "Come in," she called, presumably to Mr. Thompson.
A fat, balding man, with high cheek bones and an ostentatious walk, entered the room. "Ms. Agnarrsen?" He asked, extending a limp sweaty hand to her.
She took it, firmly, almost crushing the older man's hand in her grasp. "Mr. Thompson."
"Please, call me Alistair," he offered, as she finally released his hand and he cradled it gently.
She did not return the courtesy. "All right, Mr. Thompson, we have a lot of work to get through before your court date next week."
"Alistair, please," he repeated, taking a seat in front of her desk.
Elsa sat down and, cringing, resumed, "Alistair, I think the most important thing I can do is to prepare you for what to expect." She was going to enjoy this part. "If you break under cross-examination, there won't be much I can do to save you."
"I'm not as weak as you think I am," he insisted, still cradling his hand.
"Then this won't be a problem. Let's begin, I shall act as the plaintiff, and you'll respond. If what you said will hurt your case, I'll let you know, and you can rephrase."
"Shouldn't we start by going over my statement?" he replied, worry clear in his tone. Or maybe it's fear, she thought, hiding a wolfish grin.
"I've read your statement, you should be fine. I don't want you to sound rehearsed during direct, it's better if it comes from the heart," Elsa explained, though the real reason was just that she wanted to make him suffer as much as she could while still winning the case.
She shuffled some files, trying to look as if she was getting into character instead of just letting herself be honest. He nodded his ascent. "You have a conversion therapy practice, correct?"
"I do, I fix people who believe-"
"A simple yes, don't give more answer than you need to."
"Oh, okay."
"Would you describe for the court what that entails?"
"Yes."
"Actually answer that one, don't try to play smart."
"But you said-" he sputtered.
"That's why we're working out the kinks. Continue."
"People that believe they are homosexuals-" Elsa cringed again. "Come to me for help. So they can get themselves back on God's path. I help these poor, unfortunate souls correct their behavior, teach them how to stop being gay, how to learn to accept being with women, or men if they're a woman. I teach them to stop dressing up, or to stop thinking of themselves in some wrong way."
Elsa's anger flared up. "So you delude these people into hiding who they are?" she almost screamed.
"Of course not, I teach them to accept the limitations of who they are. To realize that what they're letting themselves believe is wrong."
"And you yourself were one of them?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Answer the question," she growled. "You were a homosexual." She emphasized the word, as if it was a dagger she was plunging into the man's chest.
He appeared flustered. "I used to be. Yes. I used to be a lot of things. Now I've learned the error of my ways, and I try to help others do the same."
"What else did you used to be?" she asked, already knowing the answer. It had surfaced quickly in the iota of research she had managed to do before his arrival.
"I was a drag queen," he sobbed. Elsa didn't bother to indicate the tissues on her desk. "I used to perform at a gay club in town under the name Ursula Lagoon, is that what you wanted to know!?"
Elsa couldn't manage to hide her smile. "Try not to have an outburst like that in the courtroom. It won't make you look good."
"I don't like bringing it up," he sighed, tears still dirtying his face.
"Lagoon, is that a pun on the author?" she asked, trying to distract him from his suffering enough that their preparation could continue.
He nodded hesitantly.
She continued, the glee disappearing from her face as she began working earnestly, her sadism satisfied. "Have you had much success with your patients?"
"Define success," he said hesitantly, weary of any traps. Perhaps this case isn't unwinnable.
"Have many of your patients managed to put an end to their sinful ways and begin a proper, heterosexual lifestyle"? The words came out choked; she hoped he hadn't noticed.
"Of course, many of my patients have." A smirk crossed the man's hideous face. "Why, are you interested in being a patient?" He had done his research as well.
Elsa glowered at him, wishing desperately that she could slam her fist into the hateful visage before her. Instead she ignored him. "Have you had any other patients commit suicide before this one?"
"I don't know if I'd even call Mr. Hawkins a patient. He hadn't had a session in months. Clearly it was not showing up for therapy that killed him."
Elsa's cold gaze cut into the man and he sputtered out something that wasn't even words. She responded, "The facts there will help your case, but your attitude will not, if you can't seem at all contrite about a former patient killing himself, then I can assure you the jury will not like you, and if they don't like you, they will want to see lots of your money go to Mrs. Hawkins. So work on that."
A look of contrition crossed over his face. He was a surprisingly good actor. Of course he'd have to be, he pretends to be straight all the time. "I am so very sorry for her loss. My words were thoughtless, it is always heartbreaking when someone reaches that point, I only wish he would have let me keep helping him, we were really making some progress."
Elsa's face went blank. Wow, I really might win this case. Equity here I come, she thought hatefully. "That will work. Include that in your previous answer and you should be fine."
They spent the next several hours plotting their nefarious schemes. Elsa was becoming increasingly confident of her victory in this case. The facts were, tragically, on her side. New York had not outlawed conversion therapy, Jim Hawkins had never revealed any suicidal ideations to his therapist, Mr. Thompson was actually a licensed therapist, and he had several clients willing to testify for him. Elsa only had to be able to stand in the court room, looking at the mother of this poor child, and say that this monster had done nothing wrong. It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever done, but it sure felt like it.
They concluded around seven o'clock. Elsa had declined to order food for the two of them, so she was rather hungry by the time she arrived home. Tiana had left her several pre-prepared meals, and she had been ignoring them the entire time she had been gone. She loved her girlfriend's food, as did the whole world, but sometimes it was nice to have a break. She had already had one for lunch and she popped another into the toaster oven when she arrived home, after throwing her blazer onto a coat hook. There were still two more in the fridge, but at least she didn't look like an entirely ungrateful bitch now.
When the toaster oven dinged, she grabbed the meal from it and sat before the TV with a glass of red wine. The food was chicken Marsala with roasted potatoes and carrot strings, and its scent made her mouth water, but it was still too hot to eat. She started a show on Netflix and lost herself in it while the food cooled. Once it was ready to eat, she felt even worse about the fact that she had been ignoring the meals; the food was amazing—there was a reason Tiana was one of the most famous chefs in the world. I should really appreciate her more.
When the show ended, she washed the plates in the sink and poured herself another glass of wine. She couldn't recall if Tiana was supposed to be back tonight or tomorrow, but it would likely not be until late. Usually when Tiana was out of town, Elsa would fall asleep alone, then wake up with Tiana lying next to her, sleeping soundly.
Her glass of wine accompanied her back to the couch as she watched another episode of the show. She should be doing more research on her case —she should be doing anything— but her dealings with both Pan and Thompson had thoroughly worn her out. She just wanted to relax.
She had barely finished her second glass of wine and was considering a third when she heard the door open. Footsteps sounded in the foyer, accompanied by the sound of a suitcase being dragged across the floor. When she stood up and looked back towards the door, she saw the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.
Tiana was standing there, clad in a black pinstriped pantsuit, her hair down, brown eyes gazing longingly at her. She had already taken her shoes off. She looked exhausted, but seeing Elsa had granted her a renewed energy. "I took an early flight home," she said by way of greeting, her Southern accent barely noticeable. "I missed you."
Elsa hadn't even realized that she'd crossed the room to her girlfriend when they wrapped their arms around each other. She felt the younger woman's lips on her own as they held each other tight. God I've missed this woman.
"I missed you too," she finally said, when their lips parted. "I'm so glad you're home. How was your trip?"
"It was really good. The new Tucson restaurant had a fantastic opening night," so it was Tucson, "And the new episode I appeared on should be airing next week. I wish you could have been there, it's always so much easier facing these things when you're with me."
"I know, honey, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy with work," Elsa insisted, still holding her.
"I know. I just hate going on those shows alone, everyone else has their husbands either on the show with them or off camera waiting for them, I know I can't expect you to always be there with me, your work matters too, but I still hate it."
Elsa kissed her again. "Have I told you lately that I'm proud of you?"
"You probably have, but I could go for it again."
"I'm proud of you," Elsa smiled.
"Sorry I didn't call while I was gone, it was basically nonstop work, if I wasn't cooking I was making sure other people were cooking right, or telling people how to cook, or signing one person's breasts. That one was weird," she laughed. "I have such a strange sort of celebrity, I'm never sure if I'm famous for my cooking or for being a lesbian."
"You're famous for being a famous cook who fucks women. The cooking kind of had to come first."
"That's true. How have you been? I know it's only been four days, but it feels like so much longer." She ran her hands down the older woman's pale arm, exposed past the short sleeve of her dress.
"Things have been crazy. Actually there's a few things I have to tell you," Elsa informed her, savoring her touch and returning it.
"Oh?" Tiana asked, concern stealing her smile. "What happened?"
"It's good, well mostly, don't worry." Tiana relaxed, as Elsa took her in another embrace, then led her to the couch. "Well first off, I may be making equity partner. If I can win the case I'm currently on, then Gaston is going to put me up for it."
"That's fantastic!" Tiana squealed, melting into her. "You've worked so hard for this. I knew you could do it."
"Unfortunately the case is defending a conversion therapist."
"Ah," Tiana sighed, hesitating. "I know how hard that must be for you, I can't say I'm okay with it, but you have to do what you have to do. I admire your work ethic, I don't know if I could do it if I was you."
"I don't know if I can either. Unfortunately I'm pretty sure I'm going to win." They both sighed again, their emotions mixed. "But on the bright side, I've been talking to Anna."
"Really?" Tiana turned to face the blonde, her eyes wide.
"Yeah. I even finally came out to her."
"I don't know how she didn't already know," Tiana teased, running her fingers through Elsa's hair.
Elsa looked lovingly at the younger girl as she leaned against her touch. "But she took it really well, well mostly well. She's kinda freaking out, she's going through a bad divorce now and she's starting to be really confused about her sexuality, and I don't know what to tell her. I'm not sure if she's just looking for something to distract her, if she's just so overwhelmed by my telling her, or if she just never really had the opportunity to question it when she was younger and it's finally hitting her."
"Anna's a strong girl, I don't think she's freaking out over nothing. There's probably something there. I mean being with Kristoff all those years she probably never really had a chance to question it." The rest of Elsa's words caught up to her. "Wait, they're really over? What happened? I mean I know it's been almost five years since you last saw them, but you always made them sound like the perfect couple. They've been together for, what, fourteen years? I can't believe it's all just falling apart."
"Yeah, that was how I reacted too. I was always sure that Anna and Kristoff were just a constant, that nothing could change that. Apparently, in all that time, Anna just fell out of love."
"Think it's because she's gay?"
Elsa chewed her lip contemplatively, "I'm really not sure. I never really got that sense from Anna, but it's not like I was looking for it."
"Well for some reason I never met her, so I can't say," she glared playfully at Elsa. "But hey, better late than never. She still has time to figure herself out, and you'll be there to help her."
"I told her she could meet you."
Tiana's eyes lit up and a huge smile bloomed on her face. "Really?"
"I love you, Tiana, I'm pretty sure we'll be together forever, I want you to meet my sister."
Tiana flung her arms around her, kissing the older girl's cheek, neck, and lips. "Well then she'll have us to help her."
Elsa ran her hands down Tiana's back, her nails tracing her skin through the thin fabric. She yearned desperately to be closer to the other woman. In the same instant, the two stood up and Elsa's hands darted to the buttons on the front of Tiana's blouse, while Tiana's went to the zipper on Elsa's back. Their lips met again, and they kissed feverishly, their tongues caressing each other, as their fingers continued their frantic work. Their dance continued up the stairs to their bedroom. At one point Elsa pushed Tiana against the wall in a passionate kiss as one of their bras hit the floor, neither one could be sure whose. By the time they made it to the bed, their house was littered with their clothes. Several hours later, physically and emotionally exhausted, the two fell asleep.
