"Just a minute?" Elsa yells, and checks to make sure the bathroom door is locked. She's in Anna's little apartment and regretting her life choices. Why did she ever agree to go dancing? With Anna? There's the answer of course, but she knows she will be disappointed and she knows there's no way in hell she'll have the courage to wear that dress. The offending garment lays innocently on the sink, black on the white porcelain.
"Is everything ok in there?" Anna asks from the other side of the door.
"YesI'mfinedontcomein," Elsa says quickly, curses herself. Keep it together girl, you've been through worse. It's just a dance and it's just a dress- regardless of how slinky it may be. She takes a deep unnecessary breath and seriously considers escaping through the window. Temporary solutions to permanent problems are a lot less attractive when you live forever though and she reaches out shakily for that stupid dress. This is ridiculous; standing there in her bra and panties, donning the dress would actually make her more decent, not less. Why is she so damn afraid of a stupid piece of cloth? She picks it up. Her hands shake a little as she struggles into it- so form fitting. It has a high neck and back. Elsa is grateful that the high back hides her scars, and that the high neck doesn't force her to show any cleavage, but it's sleek enough that it doesn't leave much to the imagination and it has no sleeves… the bottom at least leaves her room to move her legs and swishes down by her shins but still. Elsa slips on her shiny black flats, and wishes she had something for those horrible numbers on her wrist.
"Elsa?" Anna calls through the door. "Is it an off day?"
"No," Elsa replies quickly. "Almost ready!" This was such a terrible idea. She opens the door and bites her lip. Anna gasps; Elsa can feel her but it's a small enough expression that she can't really see any movement or hear any air move. That's just about the only thing she actually likes about her magic. "Do you have gloves?" She asks, because to dwell on that little gasp is to dive down a veritable rabbit hole of second guessing and insecurity.
"Gloves?" Anna frowns. "Why would… I'm so freaking dumb. Your Auschwitz tattoo." The little redhead wears a pair of shorts, like blue jeans cut so high they're almost a belt, and a strip of cloth wound around her torso from just below the tantalizing dip of her cleavage to just above the edge of her rib cage. Elsa tries very hard not to look. Her feet. Those are safe, right? Anna wears calf high boots of brown leather with tufts of white fur at the tops.
"Dachau," Elsa corrects quietly, keeping her eyes safely on the boots.
"Yeah, I'm an idiot," Anna says. "Also, here." She rummages through a drawer and produces a pair of elbow length black silk gloves. "I've got kinda a thing for clothes," Anna shrugs.
"Thankyou," Elsa replies and pulls them on so quickly she's faintly surprised they don't rip. She would blush but her blood doesn't flow enough for reactions like that. She supposes that's another nice thing about her magic. "Shall we?"
The dance club is within walking distance, so they walk. The air is brisk- not that Elsa notices- and the walk is pleasant enough at first. Then they hear yelling- faintly, from a few long blocks away. It sounds like some sort of repetitive chant. As they get closer, they can just make out "death to the dead!" Over and over again, shouted from a hundred raw throats. Elsa grimaces.
"Elsa," Anna croaks. "I'm so so sorry. I didn't know. We can…"
"It's fine," Elsa cuts her off, dead eyes fixed ahead. Her hands tighten reflexively.
"I would have picked somewhere else if I knew," she says. "I promise Elsa, I didn't know." Her voice trembles a little at the end, but Elsa can't tell if that's because of the cold or her emotions.
"It's fine," Elsa repeats.
Anna bites her lip. She wants to hug the frail little litch. To hold on and not let go until the world decides to just let her be, but no. Where Elsa had looked too skittish to hug on her most recent off day, this Elsa looks too hard. Too cold. Dead and closed off. "Elsa," Anna says because she doesn't know what else to say. "Elsa, you're beautiful?" As if she could be so bold. "Elsa, not everyone is a piece of shit?" She doesn't think the litch would hear it right now. "Elsa I think I love you?" She doesn't want to scare Elsa away.
Anna doesn't say any of it. Just "Elsa," and reaches for her pale dead hand. She has to work to get her fingers intertwined with Elsa's- the litch doesn't open her fist- but Anna is determined to show some affection so she manages. With her left hand, of course; Anna thinks she might need her right for punching.
"I don't want to do this," Elsa whispers, and Anna is pretty sure she isn't meant to hear.
"If you let them stop you then they've won," Anna says because it sounds terribly wise to her.
"I," Elsa closes her beautiful blue eyes. "Is that really so bad? Do I really have to win? I could just go home, and let them be. I'd be happy, they'd be happy." She starts to turn, but Anna's hand stops her. Elsa blinks a few times. "I'm sorry," Elsa says. "I'm such a coward."
"You're not," Anna says and very much looks forward to punching some people. "You're the bravest person I know, and I can't even begin to imagine what all you've gone through. C'mon, I promised 'Punzie I'd introduce you two." Anna wishes for a second or two that she had let Elsa run home, but this will be good for her, right? Anna tells herself that her eagerness to take Elsa to the dance has nothing to do with her own selfish desire to dance together and everything to do with altruism. Or something. It's a flimsy excuse. She tugs lightly and Elsa takes a reluctant step in the right direction. Then another.
There's a crowd around the next street corner. More a roaring mob, waving signs and staked felt figurines of the Count from Sesame Street. "That's not even the right sort of undead," Anna protests, but a glance at Elsa's frozen face shuts her up. The mob seems to be facing away- toward the club, Anna thinks. She swallows.
Some of the protesters seem to be wearing regular street clothes, but many wear black shirts emblazoned with the words "death to the dead," or "your rights stop when your heart does," and a crude picture of a broken skull or staked heart.
"How does someone wearing a skull actually believe they're the good guy?" Anna wonders aloud.
Elsa grimaces. "The Nazis did too," she says. "No one ever thinks they're the bad guy."
"Well," Anna says. "They're stupid. You ready?"
"No," Elsa confesses.
"They won't know you're a litch," Anna gives her hand another squeeze.
"They will if you keep saying it," Elsa grumbles, and wishes she had thought to bring the gun Pabbie had given her. She doesn't protest though, when Anna tugs her into the mob.
At first, the crowd doesn't seem to notice them. As the two women delve deeper though, the demonstrators around them seem to assume comradery. They give encouraging smiles and gestures, someone hands Elsa a shirt. Anna halfheartedly smiles back, and then abruptly they're through.
The dance club is a little red brick building sandwiched between a deli- closed at this hour- and a strip bar. People slip unimpeded into and out of the strip bar, but a ring of grim-looking men and women wearing nylon and leather form a protective half-ring around the entrance to the dance club. They face outwards toward the protesters, linked arm in arm. The name of the club- The Lime Dive- blazes neon behind them, as do the words "Undead Welcome." There's a sort of semi-circular no-man's zone between the two groups but though it's empty of people, it's full of hostility.
Anna pulls the litch quickly across to the grim-faced defenders. Arms shove them roughly back, but Anna yells "we're here to dance," and they let her through. The two women duck gratefully into the club's little atrium.
"That was… sorry about that," Anna says.
"Wouldn't it have been easier to go somewhere else?" Elsa asks, and realizes she's still carrying the shirt. She looks around for a place to drop it but nowhere convenient presents itself. She frowns and balls it up.
"Probably," Anna shrugs. "I didn't think of that. You see 'Punzie?"
Elsa shakes her head, so Anna leads her into the club proper. It's not as crowded as Elsa had thought it would be. She supposes that has something to do with the mob outside, and perhaps a little with the ring of people standing guard at the door. Anna's friends are nowhere to be seen, so the little redhead waves to one of the baristas and pulls Elsa to the brightly lit, granite topped bar. They sit.
"Marsh!" Anna says when a hulking man in the Lime Dive uniform sidles over.
"Anna," he grins. His face is as big as the rest of him, heavy jawed, but split with a friendly grin. "This the girl you won't shut up about?"
"Marshmallow," Anna whines. Not for the first time today, Elsa is glad she doesn't blush.
"That's what brothers are for kiddo," he grins. "Elsa, right?"
Elsa nods uneasily, and reclaims her hand from Anna's reassuring grip.
"Don't worry about them," Marshmallow says. He makes 'them' sound like the sort of insult that wars are fought over. "We called the cops. They don't have permits or anything. Didn't file with the city, you know? They'll be cleared out in a bit."
"You're not worried?" Elsa has to muster all of her bravery to ask.
"Pfah," Marshmallow scoffs, and Anna giggles. "It's not the first time idiots have tried to protest the bar and it won't be the last. In ten years everyone will be shocked that anyone ever thought like them. Their grandkids, if they ever have any, will be shocked that their grandparents were deadists just like I was when I discovered mine were racist."
"Or when we discovered our parents were homophobes," Anna snorts, and gestures at the empty bar in front of her. "Where the hell is my drink?"
"Jesus Anna, you've got a problem," Marshmallow rolls his big eyes grabs a bottle from somewhere under the bar. The siblings interact with a sort of practiced strife that Elsa has difficulty following. There's something paradoxically peaceful in it though. "Yeah," Marshmallow continues, "bit of a rude awakening for them when they found you in bed with the girl next door, wasn't it Anna?"
"Kill me," Anna flushes the same color as her hair and drops her head into her arms. "Or get me my drink." Marshmallow laughs, not unkindly, and slams a glass down in front of her.
"Anything for you?" He asks Elsa.
She shakes her head and asks, "you mean Anna's…"
"Gay?" Marshmallow looks between them and laughs. "You kids really need to sit down and talk things out. She's gay, you're gay, fucking hell, I thought you were already dating."
"Kill me," Anna begs, and downs half her glass.
Marshmallow pretends to think about it for a second. "Nah," he says. They can dimly hear sirens in the background. Marshmallow turns back to Elsa. "Girl next door was always coming over- what was her name?"
"Fuck off," Anna swallows the rest of her drink and gestures meaningfully at the empty glass.
"No," Marshmallow winks at Elsa and she finds herself smiling slightly. "I don't think that was it. Elsie, was it?"
"Nooooooo," Anna groans.
"Yes," Marshmallow hisses cheerfully. "I think you have a thing for names like that. Anyway, she was always coming over, our parents thought it was Elsie and I. Sat me down for a real serious chat, when we hear this squeaking sound from upstairs. Like someone was jumping on the bed, you know?"
"Kill yourself in the butthole," Anna waves her glass impatiently. Marshmallow refills it.
"You..." Elsa raises her eyebrows. "While your parents were home?"
"Well I didn't know they were home, now did I?" Anna scowls. "Marshmallow, don't you have anyone else to serve?"
"You get off easy this time," Marshmallow grins evilly and moves back down the bar.
"Sorry about him," Anna says, and Elsa is faintly surprised she can speak around her embarrassment.
"It's fine," Elsa smiles. "He's nice. It's clear he really cares about you."
"Wish he would care a little less," Anna grumbles. Just then, her blond cousin joins them at the bar.
"Eugene," the newcomer waves. "They're here already!" Her boyfriend joins them, smiling roguishly.
"Rapunzel," Anna flaps her hand in the girl's general direction. "My cousin and best friend. Eugene, her boyfriend and all around good guy despite what he'll tell you. Elsa," Anna smiles at the litch. "Erm, dead girl. Be nice to her." Elsa waves shyly.
"Heya," Eugene grins. "Heard a lot about you."
"Sorry," Elsa says quickly because she's not entirely sure what the situation warrants and the apology leaks out before anything else.
"What the hell for?" Eugene scowls and claps her roughly on the back.
"Eugene," Rapunzel warns. Her boyfriend steps back quickly. "Remember what we talked about with AHEM," she gestures outside, "and personal space for YOU KNOW?"
"Sorry Elsa," Eugene mumbles.
"No Olaf today?" Anna asks.
"Homework," Eugene shrugs. "Nothing to do with GTA until five in the morning. He really wanted to meet you, ya know," he directs this last at Elsa. The litch looks away quickly.
"Well, maybe next time," Anna stands unsteadily.
"Next time?" Elsa squeaks.
"Of course," Anna grins broadly. "If that's all right."
"We like having you," Rapunzel smiles. It seems to be an artificial expression, but not because she doesn't mean it. Rather, like she's watching her expressions very closely to be as welcoming as possible.
"Now," Anna grabs Elsa's hands abruptly, misses how the litch gives a startled jump. "I think I'm just drunk enough to get out there and make a real fool of myself."
They dance.
Rapunzel and Eugene spend some time at the bar and then join them on the dance floor, but it can't properly be said that they dance with Elsa. Or Anna, for that matter. It's very clear that Anna is dancing with Elsa, and anyone who intervenes is likely to get stabbed. Elsa tells herself that she's reading too much into it. Anna doesn't like her that way- no one could like a dead thing like her that way. Anna's just a carefree girl having fun with friends. Nothing romantic at all. It's fun though, and Elsa mostly lets herself enjoy it. She had worried that there was an actual dance she was expected to learn, moves that she could screw up, but there doesn't seem to be anything of the sort. Anna isn't coordinated, and she doesn't pretend to be. She stands there and flails cheerfully, vaguely in time with the music, and it doesn't take Elsa long to join in. Elsa is more reserved, and more structured. Her movements are vaguely reminiscent of a ballerina, but tamer and with less energy. Her movements don't really mesh with Anna's, but they go with the song and no one seems to mind in any case. The shirt Elsa had been given lays, mostly forgotten, on the granite counter until Marshmallow discreetly removes it. Who knows, maybe his coworkers will help him get it on a mannequin and hang it from the rafters later. The patrons sometimes appreciate a piñata…
Anna, Elsa, Eugene, and Rapunzel dance until closing and by that time, the mob has cleared off. They, in the unspoken manner of friends everywhere who are not quite ready for the night to end, walk Elsa home, laughing and chatting all the while. When Elsa sleeps that night, it's with a smile on her face. For once, she doesn't dream of unjust laws and unforgiving secret police. Tomorrow, she tells herself, she will get to see Anna again and for once she isn't stuck on all the ways it could go wrong.
So of course tomorrow is an off day.
AN: as always, sorry this took so long. Hopefully the length makes up for the delay. Someone decided to give a very favorable review of this story on Reddit, and I was really really happy, and really really grateful, and said review helped some people find this story, and wheeee… so I wanted to write a really really good chapter so I would deserve the really really kind mention of my story on Reddit and that's way too many reallys and I sound a little like a rambling Anna and shitting up now… sorry…
Anyway, follows/favorites/reviews make me write better and faster...