Disclaimer: I often pretend that the canon characters in this story belong to me, but pretend is pretend, and this is reality. Canon characters belong to Me. Wait, I mean Disney. Yes, Disney.

Author's Note: Hi, all! I thought I would briefly pause from writing "In the Heart of a Snowflake" to write this two-shot! Originally it was just meant to be a short one-shot, but then the story sort of got away from me… hence a two-shot! I will be posting the second instalment by Christmas day. ^_^

~x-X-x~

Words on Paper
Part I

Twenty-five days until Christmas…

She loved bookstores. She loved the warmth and ambiance of a space existing within the boundaries of wood, paper, and dim lights. She loved the dust that covered the shelves. She loved running her fingers over the spine of an old tome. She loved finding lost bookmarks and returning them to the pages of a random novel. Most of all, she loved being surrounded by the scent of old pages in leather-bound cases sealed with a hand-sewn stitch. They reminded her that no matter where she went, the words in books would always ground her in a sense of belonging.

'Elsa Snø.'

Her large, blue eyes refocused on the woman in front of her. 'Yes.'

'You're over-qualified.' The woman put down the resume and leaned back in her chair. 'Why would an Oxford graduate want to work in a bookstore?'

Elsa fixed the woman with a steady gaze. 'Because she loves books, Ms…'

'Yelena.'

'Ms. Yelena.'

'Just Yelena.'

'Yelena.' Elsa's chin lifted a fraction of an inch. 'Education has its place, and passion has its place, too.'

The older woman raised a single brow and looked at Elsa with a discerning eye. They were sitting in a small alcove in a small bookstore called, quite simply, "The Bookstore". Yelena had spent the past thirty-years establishing this tiny nook-of-a-place, and as a result had created a permanent fixture in the community landscape. With a steady and caring hand, she had crafted a world of words and wondered, as she stared at the young woman sitting before her, if this Elsa Snø would make a good addition to the stories she protected.

Elsa sat with a stillness rarely observed in those her age—with her back straight, her ankles crossed, and her hands clasped calmly in her lap. She had a very direct, straight-forward way about her, and although her eyes travelled when there was a lull in their conversation, they always darted back to Yelena when she spoke.

The older woman cleared her throat as she dusted a stray white hair from her shoulder. 'It says here that you have worked in three other bookstores.'

'One was a campus bookstore. One I had to leave when we decided to move closer to my sister's University.'

'And the other?'

Elsa looked down at her hands. 'My parents used to own a bookstore.'

'Used to?'

'Yes. They're dead.'

'Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.' Yelena didn't press further, but there was the slightest softening in her otherwise hard expression. Something about Elsa's demeanour unnerved her.

She also intrigued her.

She picked up the resume and skimmed it over once more. 'We've been busy because of the holiday season. This is a temporary job. We probably won't need you after the twenty-fifth day of this month, but we could use your help for now.' She opened a drawer and slipped the resume inside. 'You're hired.'

Elsa looked up and blinked. 'Just like that?'

'Were you expecting a welcoming committee?'

'No, I… thank you.'

The older woman stood up, signalling that their meeting was over. Elsa also stood up and smoothed the creases in her white blazer. Her hands then moved to her braid, which she subconsciously ran through her fingers with a slight tug.

'When can you start?'

'As soon as you need me to.'

'Yes, well, in that case…'

Yelena made her way to the front counter and Elsa followed, her large eyes darting first to the shelves that lined the wood-panelled walls; then to the tables in the middle of the space stacked and overflowing with books, mugs, and blankets; then to the artifacts that adorned the walls. There were handmade rugs scattered around the hardwood floor and the scent of sage mingled with old paper hung in the air. Elsa's eyes travelled upwards towards the ribbed ceiling and found, suspended by braided yellow threads, a large, circular hoop. Different coloured ribbons weaved in and out of the hoop, creating a web of lines that was both intricate and incomplete. This woven hoop was so large it seemed to encompass the entire space below.

'This is Ryder.' Yelena had stopped at the counter. 'He'll sort you out.' She picked up a stack of files from the counter and, without a second glance at her new hire, returned to her alcove.

'Hi, so you're the new girl.'

Elsa turned her eyes to the stranger with his hand extended. He had a mess of dark brown hair that fell past his ears, boyish features, and a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. She shook his hand. 'Elsa.'

'Cool, cool.' He hoisted himself up and slid over the countertop. He hopped down in front of her with a coy grin. 'Lemme show you around,' he said, pulling at his sagging khakis.

Elsa raised a brow as she followed him.

'We get pretty busy this time of year, holiday shoppers and all that,' he said, as he led her through the different sections. 'It's like suddenly people think books make the best gift.'

Elsa tilted her head to one side. 'Don't they?'

'I mean I guess,' Ryder replied, with a shrug. 'But if you offer me a choice between a book and an Atom Drop…' He looked over his shoulder and grinned at her.

'An Atom… Drop?' Elsa was doing her best to keep up with his pace. He manoeuvred through the shelves and the piles of boxes on the floor with a careless ease. It was a very small bookstore, but it seemed like every book ever written had found a place in this maze.

'Longboard,' he supplied, and then added, after noticing her confused expression, 'a skateboard.'

'Ah.'

He was leading her to the back of the store. 'This is the restricted section,' he said, nodding his head towards a door as they walked past it.

'Why is it restricted?' she asked, slowing to a stop. She gazed at the door. It was made of wood, like nearly everything else in this shop, but it seemed quite old and worn. On the handle hung an ancient-looking rusted lock.

'Meh. I think Yelena has a collection of old books she keeps locked away. Like a personal collection or something. She calls it collecting. I call it hoarding. Anyway, come on.'

Elsa peeled her eyes from the door and resumed her trail behind him.

'So, what, are you in Uni or something? One of those college kids always looking for a part-time job?' He tripped over a stack of magazines. 'Wait, lemme guess. You have an English Lit degree with a minor in something obscure, like, uh…' he scratched his head, '… oh! Like Scandinavian History in the 1800s…' His permanent grin became a laugh as he waved a flippant hand through the air.

'I've completed school,' she said, dismissively.

'And?'

'And…?'

'Am I right?'

Elsa let out a sigh. 'I have a degree in Earth Science and completed my graduate studies in Glaciology. My research included the study of glaciers and natural phenomena involving ice.' She recognized that her field of study was incredibly specific, and she had learned long ago that delving into her interests often bored the listener to the point of regret. Trying to convince people that there was value in the study of ice was a mission she always failed miserably at, and this had created in her a hesitation whenever people inquired about her field of study—well, whenever people inquired about anything personal, really.

'Wha—' Ryder paused by a ladder propped against the "Wellness" shelf. 'You have a Doctorate degree in ice? Well, that's… random….'

Elsa frowned. 'Is it?'

Before he could reply, a book fell from above—narrowly missing Elsa's nose—and landed with a thud between them. A cloud of dust lifted from where it made contact with the floor.

Elsa bent down to pick it up, and when she straightened, she found a woman descending from the ladder.

'I want you to meet my sister,' Ryder said, with a triumphant wave of his hand. 'Honeymaren. Older, but-not-wiser, murderer by falling book.'

Honeymaren was definitely Ryder's sister. She had the same, thick, dark brown hair, which she wore very long and tied in a loose ponytail, and although her features were a bit sharper, the resemblance was unmistakable. The only difference existed in the eyes. Honeymaren's were a deep, dark brown that glinted gold in the dim lighting.

'Hello.' Honeymaren fixed Elsa with a stern gaze. 'So, you're the new hire.' It was a statement more than a question.

'Yup, our new employee… uh… what was your name again?'

Elsa dusted off the book and held it out for Honeymaren to take. 'Elsa Snø.'

'Wait, hold up!' Ryder's eyes widened. 'Your last name is Snø?! You have a PhD in ice and your last name is Snø? Haha!'

He was laughing, and although it was at her expense, Elsa couldn't help but smile. His laugh was infectious.

'Anyway.' Honeymaren took the book from Elsa and passed it to Ryder, clearly not amused. Her eyes raked over Elsa's appearance, taking in the white heels, the dark blue ankle pants, the white blazer over a powder-blue shirt, the pearl necklace, the platinum blonde locks almost too frosty to be natural, and those clear, blue eyes behind a pair of glasses. Ugh, she's so bright, Honeymaren thought to herself. Out loud she said, 'Well, just don't get in the way and you'll be fine.' She scooped up an armful of books and stared at Elsa for a good minute. And then, 'You're in the way.'

'Oh! I'm sorry.' Elsa pressed her back flush against the bookshelf to allow Honeymaren by. She stared after her, unsure what to make of their interaction. Honeymaren carried the same bold, firm disposition as Yelena, and yet Elsa sensed a bit of a bite behind those dark eyes.

'Don't worry about her, she's been in a mood all week,' Ryder said, as if reading Elsa's thoughts. He ran a hand through his mop of hair. 'Now, let me show you where we keep the good stuff. As in Coffee. What's your poison?'

'Hmm?' Elsa pulled her eyes away from where Honeymaren was adding even more books to the stack she was already carrying. 'Shouldn't we help her with that?'

'I mean we should… but she likes doing things herself in her own way. Anyway, so let me guess, you seem like a Frappuccino type girl.'

'Oh. No, just tea.'

'Tea?' He grimaced. 'That's so vanilla of you.'

Elsa arched an eyebrow. Vanilla…?

~x-X-x~

'Hey, careful! I don't need you falling down and busting your head open.'

Anna secured the final bauble on the Christmas tree before looking over her shoulder and throwing a dramatically annoyed look at her boyfriend. 'It's a step-stool, give me a little credit here.'

'Says the person who tripped over her own foot yesterday and nearly fell down a flight of stairs.' Kristoff was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor with his back against the couch, his brow furrowed in frustration as he struggled to untangle a mass of Christmas lights.

They were in a small apartment. It had an open-concept living-space and kitchen, with two equally sized bedrooms and a bathroom that could barely fit half a person. It was clearly Elsa's apartment in the meticulous way that it was organized—everything had a place and everything belonged—but it was also clearly being taken over by Anna in the explosion of colour and a chaotic energy ambling just below the surface of calm serenity.

'My shoelace was untied,' she retorted, carefully stepping off the stool.

'That doesn't help your argument.'

'Who's arguing?' Her hands were on her hips as her eyes travelled around the room. 'Where's Olly?'

Olaf, Anna's snow-white Pomeranian puppy—spurred by the excitement of such a chaotic scene of garlands, bows, and tinsel—emerged from a box of holly with eyes wide. He was panting with adrenaline, his little tongue hanging out from the corner of his mouth. This little tongue, which didn't quite fit into his mouth, had been the reason behind his abandonment to an animal shelter. It was also the reason why Elsa had rescued him, his "defect" endearing him to her the instant she had laid eyes on him. When she had brought him home for her sister, Olaf's future in a loving home had been secured.

Anna chuckled as she pulled a stray sprig of holly from the top of Olaf's head. 'Listen, Olly. You can play, just don't put anything in your mouth. You don't want to make Elsa mad.'

Olaf's ears perked at the mention of Elsa's name before he disappeared into the box.

'What time is Elsa supposed to be home, anyway?'

'Soon, I think.' She pulled her auburn hair up into a messy ponytail and flopped onto the couch. She had spent the entire day decorating the apartment she shared with her sister—partly as a surprise for Elsa, and partly as an excuse to procrastinate on doing her school work. 'She must have finished the job interview hours ago, so they've either hired her on or… wait, who am I kidding. They've definitely hired her on. I mean, it's Elsa.' She spoke these words with a glowing affection.

'But why a bookstore? I mean, Elsa was offered a job as an Assistant Professor. I still can't believe she turned that down. What's the point of studying so hard if you're just going to end up in a bookstore?'

Anna sat up with a frown. 'What's wrong with working in a bookstore?'

'Nothing.' He tossed the mess of Christmas lights aside, caving in to the futility of untangling them. He turned where he sat and propped his chin on Anna's knee. 'It's just such a waste of talent. I mean, ice is my life, but Elsa's research was… I dunno… so intuitive. It's like she understands the glacier beyond the science… like on a spiritual level.'

Anna choked back a laugh. 'Wait, what? Like what does that even mean…'

Kristoff and Elsa had met five years ago as University students in the Earth Science program. They had quickly formed a friendship through their shared passion for icebergs. It was through his friendship with Elsa that he had met Anna, the rambunctious little sister who would eventually become his everything.

He was keenly aware that Anna was also Elsa's everything. He wondered if Elsa's decision to refuse the Assistant Professor position was so that she could support her sister. Hadn't Elsa quit her last bookstore job to move with Anna to an apartment closer to Anna's school?

After graduating, Kristoff had ventured into the field and often travelled North to study the effects of climate change on the shifting glaciers with a team of glaciologists. Elsa had continued her studies in a doctorate degree and shocked her peers by completing her work in such a short period of time. She had won prizes for her thesis. She had gained a reputation in the field. She had even been offered a position alongside the leading minds at the University. Elsa was only twenty-four years of age and would have been the youngest person to join the ranks of Glaciology scholars—but he wondered if, even at such a young age, she was already prioritizing her family over a career.

But still… he wondered, running a hand through his blonde hair, … a bookstore?

Before he could respond to the inquisitive look on Anna's face, Olaf jumped from the box and bounded towards the door.

'Oh!' Anna sat up. 'She's home!'

As if on cue, the sound of a key in the keyhole and the jiggle of the door handle announced her sister's arrival. Elsa opened the door and was instantly attacked by a tiny, yapping ball of fluff. She laughed as she bent down—precariously balancing a bag of groceries in one arm—and scratched Olaf behind the ear. Having received her greeting, he promptly turned around and disappeared into a pile of garlands.

'Wow, the tree looks lovely!' she said, her smile faltering as her eyes took in the explosion of Christmas cheer in her apartment. 'But you could have waited. I would have helped…' She nodded her head at Kristoff in greeting, which he returned while feigning exasperation for having to help in her absence.

'I wanted to surprise you!' Anna padded towards her sister and frowned. Her sister looked exhausted. 'Did you go grocery shopping? Did you get the job?!'

'Yes.' Elsa slipped out of her heels as Anna took the bag from her. 'And yes. It's just a temporary position, but at least I got the job.' She followed Anna into the kitchen. 'Are you two hungry? I'll make dinner.'

'Nah, we ordered pizza,' Anna replied. She was putting away the contents of the grocery bag, but stopped when she felt Elsa reach forward and tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. 'We saved you some.'

'Oh, thanks. But I think I'll turn in.'

'It's only nine…' came Kristoff's voice from the sitting area.

Elsa only smiled as she pulled off her blazer and headed off to her room. Anna looked after her, frowning as she took in the subtle droop in her sister's shoulders.

'Elsa, wait!' She followed her sister into her room. 'Are you okay?'

'Hmm?' She tossed her keys onto her desk and turned to give Anna a reassuring smile. 'I'm fine. Just tired.'

Anna raised a brow, clearly not convinced, but she didn't press further. She knew her sister's penchant to close off when she felt she was becoming a burden, and yet Elsa always failed to see how Anna wanted nothing more but to unburden her. 'So, you don't want to tell me how your day went?'

'Can I tell you tomorrow over breakfast? I'll make pancakes.'

'Ooooooh, with chocolate chips?'

Elsa chuckled. 'Do pancakes exist in any other way? Now, go on. You have a mess to clean up.'

'Yes, sir.' Anna turned to leave, but stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. 'I saved the star on the Christmas tree for last because I know that's your favourite part. We can finish the tree together tomorrow.' She blew her sister a kiss before closing the door behind her.

Elsa let out a sigh of relief. Decorating the Christmas tree together with Anna, and in recent years with Olaf and Kristoff, had become a family tradition, and she was glad she hadn't completely missed out on it.

Her eyes drifted to the wall opposite her bed. It was lined from ceiling to floor with shelves crammed with books. Her eyes lingered over the different titles and fell on the row at the bottom right corner. This particular shelf was lined with the different editions, publications, and versions of a single book: Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen. She let out another sigh as she quickly undressed and slipped into a large, oversized t-shirt. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she picked up the framed photograph on her beside-side table. The smiling faces of her parents looked back at her. She ran her finger over the image of her mother.

'I found another bookstore,' she said, in barely a whisper. 'But this is the last one…' Her eyes crinkled as she inhaled slowly to ease the tension in her chest. 'I'll find it… I—'

The sound of scratching interrupted her thoughts. Elsa put down the picture frame and got up to open the door. In trotted Olaf, looking quite pleased with himself.

'Hmm. What mischief have you been up to, little guy?'

He nipped at her ankle as she pulled back her covers and slipped into bed. Olaf bounded up onto the blanket and hopped about until Elsa settled. He then pushed himself against her, snuggling his head into the curve of her hip.

Olaf was Anna's puppy and he loved her most—he followed her around, he begged her to play, he lived for her attention—but during the night he always returned to Elsa. She was his alpha and he felt, in that tiny, intuitive little heart of his, that she needed the warmth of his snuggles to help her ease into the night.

'I have a good feeling about this one, Olaf,' she said, stifling a yawn. Olaf whimpered against her. 'I just hope I find it in time…'

~x-X-x~

At what point in the night another body had entered the same bed neither Elsa nor Olaf knew, but in the morning, Elsa awoke to find a puppy snoring on her chest and a russet-haired head nestled in the nook of her arm. She tried to shift her body but a sudden ache brought her attention to the elbow lodged in her side.

'Anna…' she moaned, as she tried to turn over. The morning sun was peaking in through the curtain.

There was a slight stir, and then a balled fist lifted into the air as Anna stretched alongside her sister's body. Suddenly freed, Elsa cupped Olaf against her and lifted herself out of bed. Her eyes flew to the clock and she groaned.

'Oh, no… I'm going to be late!' She plopped Olaf onto her bed—who immediately began to nip at Anna's ear—and hurried to her closet.

'Wha—' Anna buried her head in Elsa's pillow, one hand swatting away at Olaf's snout. 'But… pancakes…'

'I'll make pancakes for dinner. Did Kristoff stay the night? Did you finish your illustrations?'

'Mmhmm…' was her muffled response.

Elsa buttoned herself into a white dress shirt and slipped on a black, overall dress. Anna peaked open an eye just as Elsa was throwing her long, platinum locks up into a loose bun, her glasses slightly askew in her rush to get ready.

'Good luck on your first day,' she said, yawning loudly. 'That bookstore needs you…' She rolled onto her side and stared up her sister. Elsa was smiling down at her as she fastened her pearls around her neck, but Anna could see that despondent look in her eyes.

Their family had owned a bookstore up until their parents' death, and although Anna could only recall bits and pieces from that time, she knew that Elsa carried those memories on the surface of her being. Anna had a sneaking suspicion that Elsa's obsession with working in a bookstore was her way of holding on to a semblance of the family they once had. For Anna—although she worried that she was losing sight of such a family—she had her sister to help keep those memories alive in her. For her, the only family she needed was Elsa.

But she worried for her sister. Elsa was the older sister—the reserved one, the polite one, the sophisticated one, the mature one, the calm one—but Anna knew that deep down Elsa was always a little restless.

Perhaps this is why, even though she had her own room and her own bed, she often found herself sneaking into wherever Elsa was when she felt that her sister needed to be reminded that she was loved.

'I'll make the pancakes tonight,' Anna said, sitting up. She attempted to run a hand through her massive knot of hair.

'And risk burning down the kitchen? No thanks.' Elsa grabbed her makeup bag from her dresser. 'I'll be home by then, I promise.' She was almost out the bedroom door towards the bathroom when she turned around and flashed Anna a reassuring smile. 'We have a tree to finish decorating, remember?' And before Anna could reply, she was out the door.

Anna fell back into Elsa's bed. The digital clock beside her was blinking a bright "6:00am" and she groaned. 'Ugh, let's sneak in five more hours of sleep, Olly.'

Olaf nipped at Anna's ear and whimpered. The sky was awake. More sleep? He was having none of it.

~x-X-x~

Fifteen days until Christmas…

There was room to walk now. "The Bookstore" was no longer a maze of unpacked boxes. There were still piles and piles of teetering stacks, but these were now organized and clearly labelled, and the once unpacked books now had a home on a dusted shelf. The front counter had been cleared and decluttered, and every file, receipt, and order form had a spot within its own drawer. In the weeks since her arrival, Elsa had quietly—diligently—worked through the list of tasks Yelena had assigned her, and upon its completion had taken the initiative to help Ryder with his.

Ryder had a natural charisma that attracted the attention of customers, and so working the counter and providing customer service were often duties delegated specifically to him. Elsa much preferred working behind the scenes organizing things, labelling things, and finding lost things a home. As long as she didn't cross paths with Honeymaren, she could enjoy the pleasure of existing between the shelves.

Elsa had learned quite early that although Honeymaren was not unkind, she paid very little attention to Elsa's existence. She went about her day running "The Bookstore" on her own terms and only addressed Elsa when absolutely necessary.

Today was a day for one such address. 'Did you move the travel books to the shelf beside the "History and Anthropology" section?'

Elsa looked up from where she and Ryder were constructing a tree by stacking old books in a coned spiral. Honeymaren stood before her, one eyebrow raised.

'Hmm?' Elsa's back straightened. Just a fraction. 'Yes. I thought customers might be more inclined to pick up a history book for places they were travelling to…'

'But that's why I had them displayed beside the "Geography" section.' Honeymaren crossed her arms over her chest. The challenge was set.

'You're both wrong,' Ryder pipped up, carefully nudging a book into place. 'Travel books should go in the food section. I would wanna know the best places to hit up for a good meal.'

'That's true… but books about food don't need the help,' Elsa said, slowly. 'They're already an easy sell.' She could feel Honeymaren's eyes on her.

'Well, if that's your reasoning, Geography books sell more than History books,' Yelena added, as she walked by with her morning tea. 'So, it makes sense moving them beside the History section.'

Honeymaren's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

'I'll move them,' Elsa replied, adjusting her glasses on her face. She could sense Honeymaren's frustration rising and decided that this battle was not worth making her upset. 'It's not a problem.'

'No, leave them. Yelena's right.' Honeymaren ran a hand through her long hair, which she had left open. It flowed down her back in waves of dark silk. Her eyes were still fixed on Elsa. 'I guess you know what you're doing after all.'

Elsa wasn't sure if she had just received a compliment, but she smiled in spite of herself.

'Wait, what was that?!' Honeymaren tilted her head at a sound she didn't recognize.

A customer had just walked in through the door and a little bell had chimed their arrival. Ryder shifted position to greet the customer but Honeymaren's eyes flittered to the door.

'It's a bell…' Elsa said, following Honeymaren's gaze.

The crease in Honeymaren's brow deepened, her lips pressing into a firm line. 'Where did my rock-chime go?'

Elsa paled. 'I stored it behind the counter. It's just a temporary change. I thought it would be nice to use a Yule Bell in the door… as part of the season… it's an old family tradition…'

Without saying a word, Honeymaren moved behind the counter and after a bit of rummaging produced her rock-chime. She stalked to the door, pulled the tiny bell from the frame, and reattached her chime.

She returned to Elsa and held out the bell. 'It might be your family tradition, but it's not ours.' Elsa lifted her hand and Honeymaren dropped the bell into her palm. 'My mother made that rock-chime. It stays. Don't just go ahead and do things.'

Her expression was hard as she turned and headed towards the alcove, but Elsa had caught a glimpse of something in Honeymaren's eyes. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but it unsettled her.

She let out a sigh as she pushed the bell into her pocket. She had overstepped. She hadn't realized that Honeymaren's mother had made the rock-chime—it had never occurred to her that the chime would have such a sentimental value.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' Ryder said, resuming his position by their tree after checking out the customer. Elsa was tugging at a loose strand of her hair, and he was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she felt anxious.

She gave him a small smile and handed him the next book to add to their tree. 'I didn't know… I would never have—'

'Don't sweat it. It's not a big deal.' A side-ways glance revealed the doubt in Elsa's eyes. She looked defeated, and this made Ryder frown. 'So, what does the other Snø-sister do?' he asked, in an attempt to distract her.

'Anna? She's in an Art Program at Arendelle University. She wants to become an illustrator for children's books.' She passed him another book.

'What, really? That's pretty cool!'

'She's the coolest person I know.' Elsa beamed despite the sag in her shoulders.

'Uh, hello? The coolest person you know is right here.' He tried to flip a book with one hand and catch it with the other in an attempt to impress her, but instead he nudged the tree with his elbow.

It teetered. Both Elsa and Ryder reached out to steady it as it dangerously swayed to one side. But then it stopped, and they both let out a deep sigh of relief.

'You were saying…' Elsa chuckled, suddenly grateful for this young, carefree boy with the warm smile.

~x-X-x~

Honeymaren couldn't shake the annoyance that bubbled just beneath the surface. She focused on the order form in front of her, but the words blurred. She threw down her pen and sat back in the chair.

'You know, she asked me if she could switch the chime with the bell. She didn't "just do things" of her own accord.' Yelena took a casual sip of her tea.

'You told her it was okay?' Honeymaren frowned.

'I did. And even if I hadn't, you shouldn't have snapped at her like that.'

'I didn't snap,' she said, narrowing her brow. Her lips plumped into an annoyed pout.

Yelena stared at Honeymaren over the rim of her mug, but said nothing. Honeymaren winced.

'Okay… maybe I snapped a little.' She sat up in her chair and ran her fingers through her fringe. 'But why did you hire her?'

'Is she doing a terrible job?'

'No, she's perfect. It's so annoying!'

'Then I don't understand your concern.' Yelena's tone was unwavering, but there was a hint of affection lurking in her eyes for the woman who sat before her. 'I know this is a difficult time of year for you. It is for all of us. But Elsa has no part in that. It's a little unfair that you're taking it out on her, don't you think?'

A low grumble escaped Honeymaren's lips. 'I suppose…'

'She's trying her best. You're trying your best. And Ryder…' Yelena's mouth curved into a rare smile. 'Well, Ryder is being Ryder.'

Honeymaren's pout broke into a smile.

'There you are, my child.' Yelena reached forward and patted Honeymaren on the hand. 'You're fully yourself when you smile. I've missed you these past few weeks.'

Honeymaren lowered her eyes. 'I'm sorry. I'll be more mindful of how I affect those around me.'

There was a pause in the conversation as Yelena sipped her tea and Honeymaren's eyes drifted to where Elsa and Ryder were still constructing the tree out of old books. Her lips curved into a smile as she watched her brother attempt to use a stack of magazines as a step-stool, only to slip and tumble to the floor. Her smile faltered when her eyes fell on Elsa, who tried, in vain, to help Ryder up. Elsa was smiling, Honeymaren observed. Never laughing. Just always smiling.

'There's something a little off about her, though…' she said, tilting her head to one side as she observed the way Elsa fiddled with her glasses.

'Yes, I think so, too.'

Honeymaren's head shot towards Yelena. 'You've noticed?! And you still hired her?!'

'She intrigues me.'

'Okay, but have you noticed that she snoops around sometimes?!'

Yelena raised a brow as she took another casual sip of her tea.

Honeymaren was sitting on the edge of her seat now, her brown eyes slightly wide. 'When there's down time, she walks among the shelves as if she's looking for something. Yesterday I stumbled on her looking at the restricted section.'

'Looking at it?'

'I mean, she wasn't trying to open the door or anything, but she was definitely interested in it.'

'Did she notice your spying on her?'

'No, I—hey! I wasn't spying.'

'Hmm.'

'I was just noticing.' She pulled her hair over one shoulder and sat back in the chair. 'It's already weird that a Doctor of Ice—or whatever she is—decides to work in a bookstore. What if there's a hidden agenda there?'

'We're all allowed our secrets.'

Honeymaren crinkled her nose, a dubious look in her eyes. 'Not when it affects our bookstore.'

'Oh, I don't know about that. A good secret makes for a good plot. And where there's a good plot stirred with a few intriguing characters, you get a good—'

'—story.' Honeymaren let out a slow sigh as she looked up at the large, webbed hoop that encompassed the store. 'I know, I know.'