chapter word count: 794 (ish)

noir heart: one hundred and five

Bewildering. The inside of the house is three times as Christmassy as the outside. As she sits patiently waiting on the edge of the huge emerald green couch, so cavernous she's in danger of getting lost between its cushions, she casts a perplexed eye at the fully-decorated Christmas tree in the far corner of the room, next to the claret-with-gold-trim curtains framing the floor-to-ceiling window. It's not even December.

There's a muffled clunk of the door opening behind and to her left, and she twists to observe Nicholas pushing the door with his butt, sausage-thick fingers clutching two large metal tankards of the hot chocolate he offered a few minutes ago. He looks up and shoots her a wild grin, and her eyes widen as the realisation hits her: this rotund, exuberant, loud man could actually be Father Christmas. Anna could have been right all along.

He passes one of the tankards to her with a hirsute hand, and chooses the smaller couch directly opposite her. As she takes a sip, she raises a brow at how the old British bulldog, once happily snoozing on the end of the couch nearest the roaring fire, is launched into the air with the force of Nicholas' touchdown, shoots him a glare as he lands disgracefully, and trots out of the room. Nicholas is completely oblivious to his dog's spontaneous flight, of course. However, the peculiar scene goes out of the window as soon as the liquid touches her taste buds: it's an explosion of seasonal sweetness that tastes like Christmas in a drink. She stares down into the warm brown concoction, oblivious to the moustache of chocolate on her upper lip. "This is delicious," she says in what she hasn't felt for years: awe.

Nicholas breaks out into raucous chuckles, taps his upper lip then gestures to her mouth, and she hurriedly pulls out a tissue from her cardigan to wipe away the damning evidence. "It is good, da?" he says, grinning. "Secret is marshmallow and sprinkle of cinnamon. Makes for excellent hot chocolate." His face then drops with no warning, and he scrutinises her closely.

"Don't you agree, Mrs Black?

The tankard freezes an inch from her mouth. She blinks, and the rush of surprise catches her breath. Her mind automatically makes damn sure she's aware of the living room door, and how it's still open. "...how did you know?"

Nicholas scoffs, and relaxes back into the sofa. Elsa briefly wonders if a small animal was squashed in the process. "My dear, I still have friends in detective unit and I keep tabs on Jack Frost. So, if there's anything he is involved in, I know about it...and I know all about you, Mrs Black. I may be old, but still sharp as shashka."

There it is. The prickle of worry in her stomach. The tankard still hasn't moved, and neither has her eyes from his. He continues, "I know about how you beat him - it is great achievement. I also know he thinks you murdered your husband."

"I-" she tries to interject, but Nicholas holds up a hand.

"Kozmotis Black was psychopath, and world is safer without man like him. I also know Jack Frost well enough to know that if you are not in jail, he is somehow satisfied that you will not kill again. So, in some way, he trusts you."

Elsa's heart skips a beat.

"Therefore, so do I. You want to know about him, da?"

Elsa lowers her tankard to her lap, and nods with resolve and certainty. "I do."

"Then I have one condition, Mrs. Black." He gestures toward her with his tankard, and bounces his eyebrows in an "I'm watching you" expression. "The deception ends here, understand?"

Elsa smiles cheekily, removes the spectacles to toss them to her side, and salutes him with three fingers to her right temple. "Girl Scout's honour, Mr. St. North. No more deception."

"Otlichno!" he booms, and raises his tankard with such vigor that its contents are in danger of becoming as flight-worthy as the dog, "So, Mrs. Black, what do you want to know?"

"The White Fairy," she says in a smooth voice, soft and craving, "I would like to know who they were, and what they did to make Jack the way he is now. And please - call me Elsa."

Nicholas' face falls, and there's a flash of regret and pain in those once-twinkling eyes of his as they too fall. "Ah. The case that broke him. Well," he sighs as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "if you wish to truly understand, we must start at beginning."

North's speech is surprisingly hard to write.

stefalove: hey, he didn't become captain for nothin'.

special thanks to: doomstone, jpbake, stefalove, last future of embryo, hornedgoddess and isawaliciaarrow for the reviews!