Chapter Five: Warm Me Up

"Your move."

Elsa found that Prince Oakir was pleasantly good at chess. She considered the Bishop that was threatening her Queen. If she saved her Queen it would put her in check. Not checkmate yet, she would still had some breathing room. But her next few moves would be completely dictated by him as she scrambled a defense of her King. And if Oakir had thought that far ahead, he might have the game then. He showed that he was capable of thinking ahead, his last stab through her defenses with a Rook, Knight and pawn backed by his Queen had been well planned. She wasn't willing to put him in control. If she took the Bishop his Knight would take her Queen, but in two moves she might be able to-

"You're making me nervous, Elsa."

"Wait, what? What did I do?" She looked around for traces of ice and snow.

"No, not like that," he backtracked with a smile. "I mean the game. When you focus that hard. . . it's a scary sight to behold, especially when I know I'm on the wrong side of that cunning."

"Oh." She smiled in return. "That's reasonable, then." She moved her Queen to take his Bishop.

"Yes, it is. Particularly when you do things I don't expect." After a moment, he committed and took her Queen with his Knight. She immediately moved a pawn to threaten that Knight, which moved it out of the way of her Bishop. He didn't see it and the Knight retreated, ready to go in for the kill on her King in a few moves.

She took his Queen with her Bishop and looked up at him.

"Well played, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, my Prince."

He looked down at the board so that his blush wouldn't show. ". . . That's not playing fair."

"You're right, but sometimes you have to play dirty to win. And how am I supposed to get good at playing dirty if I can't practice? Your move."

He moved his second Knight in to try and counterattack her Bishop. "What do you mean practice?"

"Well, there are certain diplomatic advantages that charm has over intimidation. I need to practice."

They were alone in the library and Elsa had a wicked idea. She slipped her foot from her shoe and brushed it along Oakir's ankle under the table. He looked up at her, then around the room. It was her turn so she turned her eyes back to the board, but she continued to lightly rub her foot against his. With his attack foiled she began the process of mobilizing an offensive of her own.

She took a pawn, looked him in the eye and said, "Your move." She wondered if he would get what she meant.

He moved a rook backwards. She was certain it had little rhyme or reason to it, distracted as he was. She moved a pawn forward.

"Prince Oakir, earlier I asked you if you've ever been in love."

He swallowed.

"Would you care to tell me more about that, now that we have the opportunity?"

"Not really, no. I don't feel like ripping off that scab right now, thanks. Your move."

"I. . . I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry."

"No, it's something that we should probably talk about if we- Well, we'll talk about it sometime."

"Alright."

"It's your move."

Elsa had forgotten about the game when the tone changed, and looked back at the board. But she couldn't remember what was going on with the arrangement of contrasting pieces. Before they traded Queens she'd had a plan, but it had been put on hold when he got close to putting her in check. It had hinged on her Bishop, but that was out of place since she'd used it to take his Queen, and now it wasn't as valuable because the battle lines of pawns were blocking too many black squares. Her other Bishop would be useful now, but she'd lost that earlier. And while she thought she couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in her stomach that told her she'd fucked up.

Elsa took a breath, then looked up and said, "I'm going to be honest, Oakir. I've lost my footing. I'm sorry." She feared for a brief moment that her magic was getting the best of her, but it wasn't.

He smiled and softly said, "You don't have to be sorry for losing your footing, Elsa. It's something that happens sometimes. It's something that I do often, to be honest. But I think that's the value of things like games," he gestured to the pieces on the table between them. "It's like a ball, but with fewer people. When everyone knows the rules and the motions, there is always a pattern to fall back on if things get awkward. It gives form to. . . to socializing. Interacting with other people. If a person ever loses their footing, there is guaranteed to be something to do to move things along until the tension passes."

"So it's like formal speech. It gets in the way more often then not, but it's a useful shield when you need it." She stopped and thought, then asked, "You specifically asked to play chess with me yesterday. . ."

"Yes. And I did so because if there was an awkward silence, there would be something to smooth it over. I've noticed that if there isn't something to do, I tend to leave social situations. If I provided something to do things might go better."

". . . Well played. And thank you. I've noticed the same of myself, my first reaction to losing my footing is running."

He sighed. "And that's sometimes the best option, Elsa. Anyone with some empathy will accept if you say that you need to leave. Would you like to call it a night on good terms? We can, if you want. I understand."

Elsa frowned. "I wanted to know who's better at chess though."

Oakir laughed at that, and she couldn't help but laugh a bit with him.

"Then we should leave this game until a time when we're both up to it. I, for one, am not."

"Alright. So what have you been up to recently?"

"Well, my brothers have all had mixed reactions to, uh, our meetings. They've noticed our dances last two or three songs instead of one, and today. . ." He moved on quickly. "It's been all I can do to fend them off. I wish I could say I am around you so often for altruistic reasons, but that wouldn't be the only truth."

"Oh? And what would the other truths be?" Elsa asked him through her lashes.

"That you're like a talisman that gets them off my back. Viktor, well lets just say he isn't pleased that his third brother has a chance with a Queen where he can't. He keeps asking what you find in me, but I don't know if he expects me to answer or if he's just being an asshole." His eyes went wide. "I- I am sorry, Your Majesty."

"Oakir," she laughed, "I'm a grown woman. I don't need to be fucking sheltered."

He looked taken aback, but he laughed as well.

"Like I said with formal language, it's more of a burden than anything. I do away with it whenever I can. The same applies to the stupid fear of words. I still can't stomach how people react any time they hear 'treason.'"

"There's a joke my family's lawman once told me. My brother Dane got into a bit of difficulty in Fredriksted and 'treason' was mentioned. Rob, our lawman, mentioned that legally it is defined as doing something a powerful person doesn't want you to do, or not doing something they wanted. You get the picture."

"Yes, unfortunately I do. But what is this business with Fredriksted? Did it hurt your relations with them?"

"Not severely, no. It- Well, it was similar to your situation with Hans, but on a much smaller scale. My brother wasn't intent on a crown, but he did get close with a member of the royal family. And it wasn't love he intended. When he was called back to Kvenland they were heartbroken, and accusations were thrown around. I. . . I can't really say more than that, Elsa. It's a family matter. I'm sorry."

Elsa grimaced. "I understand. It might be something I need to know in the future, though."

He looked confused. "Why?"

She sent him a meaningful look.

"Oh."

"I-" a nervous laugh escaped, but Elsa tried again. "I really don't like bringing up the fact that I have other suitors, but as far as diplomacy goes. . . Fredriksted is a more valuable ally to Arendelle. Particularly their army. We might need it soon, if the Southern Isles and Weselton decide to go to war with us over the recent events. As far as you and I are concerned, I definitely cannot risk offending Fredriksted. So we can let it rest for now, but if we do, you know. . . " Elsa wasn't even remotely looking at him anymore. "If we proceed further than we are now in this courtship, I'll eventually need to know."

"I can accept that."

"Alright."

The moment of silence made it clear they'd lost their footing.

"So what should we do with the game? Put it away?"

"We could put it away if we want to start fresh next time me play. Or, if you think it is a bad idea to leave unfinished business, we could keep the board as it is now and pick up where we left off."

"Eh, I think starting fresh is the better option."

"Alright."

"And besides, I always wanted to do this," Elsa said as she leaned forward and brushed the carefully arranged pieces off the table. She looked up at Oakir's stunned face. It was a giddy sort of giggle that he got from her in response. "That was probably only fun because I wasn't supposed to do it." Her mirth infected him and he couldn't help but chuckle.

She could call a servant to pick up the pieces. She was Queen now, no one would bat an eye at it. But after years of being isolated from the staff and doing things her self, it just didn't occur to Elsa as she pushed her chair away from the table and got down on the floor to start picking up the chess pieces.

"See, this is why we don't throw our toys all over the floor," Oakir said as he came down to join her. She huffed, a smile gracing her face. For a few moments they collected the painted wooden figures.

"Do you have a white Knight?"

"Not if we're talking about chess pieces."

Elsa found the piece in the shadow of a table leg and rose again, then realized what he'd said and looked down at the Prince. "Wait, what did you say?" she asked coyly.

"I said 'not if we're talking about chess.'" He looked up at her and for some reason her body felt the need to make her face turn red.

She held a hand out to assist him and said, "Please, white knight. You're a man like any other." He took her hand and stood. "No matter how well you control yourself you still want one thing in particular, and that's not very pious at all, 'o white knight."

Elsa hadn't looked away from his face since setting the last of the wooden figures on the table, so she could not for the life of her figure out how they had come so close without her noticing. His hand was still in hers, and she registered that her heart was beating very fast and her breath was caught in her throat.

She took the dive and leaned in, their lips coming together gently. But gently seemed wrong. 'Gently' was not the proper release, not the proper expression of the sudden tension in her body. As her lips opened to deepen the kiss Elsa felt like ravishing this man who dared stoke the fire of her lust, a fire that had been building since she'd slipped her shoe off half an hour before. Her hands found his arms, then one slipped to his neck as the other found its way to the small of his back to bring their bodies oh so deliciously closer.

They broke apart and the Prince slipped slightly, holding her for support. They looked down and the floor was a slick sheet of ice.

"Sorry about that," Elsa said. She channeled the raw heat of her emotions at that moment and in a blink the ice on the floor and the chill in the air was gone.

"Wow," Oakir said.

"The magic, or. . . ?"

"Uh, both," he said sheepishly. "To be honest, you control it so well that sometimes I forget you even have powers."

Her hands turned to ice and she made sure they weren't near him. Just then he leaned in to claim her lips again. She pulled her head away, but did not unwind their bodies.

"What's wrong? Did I say the wrong thing?" he asked. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Oakir, I just need a moment." She'd felt a pang of concern that his desire for her was gone because of her powers. But that obviously wasn't true, because he'd leaned in to kiss her again not a second later. A deep breath and her hands were clear of ice again, but her fire was dying down. Elsa opened her cerulean blue eyes to see worry in the gray eyes that met her gaze. Then she brought her lips to his again.

The fluttering in the pit of her stomach was the same, and when his hand made it's way first up and then back down her back that fluttering turned into a roaring inferno of need between her legs.

How far could this go? She'd done things with Ragnvale- or whatever his name was, she'd done things with the blacksmith that had felt amazing and released the kind of need that was building in her now. Could she do those things with Oakir? How far was he going to want to go? And they couldn't do this in the library, certainly.

Elsa broke the kiss and looked around, then put a more appropriate distance between them. "Oakir," she said. She had to clear her throat rather harshly before she could find her voice. With a tone that she hoped was sultry she asked, "If I find a place for us to be alone you wouldn't dare tell anyone, would you? Not your pestering brothers, not as a boast that you bed a Queen when you're out drinking, not ever. Right?"

His eyes went wide. "Elsa, I don't know if we should."

It wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. A thousand questions came to her lips about how in the world he could possibly not want to give in to this heat, this burning desire, but all that came out was, "Why?"

"Let me put it this way. . . are you normally good at Chess, Elsa?"

"Yes. Very. How is this relevant?" she asked coldly.

"We can't play chess right now for the same reason that we can't. . . do that, right now. We're not thinking straight."

"You are!" It was an accusation, no doubt about it.

But it glanced off him like a snowball. As his eyes broke their gaze to rake down her body in the most lecherous leer she'd ever received, Prince Oakir said, "Believe me, Elsa. No I'm not." A hand raised from her side to hover over her breast, and then very pointedly lowered again. "Elsa, we've gotten swept up in lust. We're not making decisions based on what is best for us, we're thinking only about what feels so," he brushed up and down her side, "so very good."

"I know. But so long as we're careful we will be fine."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure we could find a place where we won't get caught, but what about the other things?"

"What other things?"

He looked like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but his hands weren't moving from her body. "Things like having to rush a wedding because of certain unexpected miracles," he said through clenched teeth.

Elsa wasn't thinking with her head, so when she asked it wasn't in the most diplomatic way. "Oakir, have you never done this before?"

He went scarlet and looked away. "No." But then his eyebrows furrowed and he turned back to her. "Wait, have you?"

"I- not like that, no. I'm still a. . ." She couldn't bring herself to say it for some reason.

She wasn't sure if there had been anger, but if it had been there it drained quickly, leaving his features nothing but confused. "No. What do you mean, 'not like that', then?"

"Oakir, it isn't a simple thing. There is plenty of kissing, and touching. . . there are ways to make each other feel- I don't know how to describe it, but there's no chance of accidental miracles."

His eyes were cold now. "But you have done this 'kissing' and 'touching' before, with other men?"

"Man. Oakir, do you trust me?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't know."

That stung. She'd shown more than enough trust in him, and yet again he wouldn't do the same.

Elsa decided to double down. This was not Hans. He had earned her trust for a reason. If she could explain, everything would be fine. There was ice around them again, a result of the fear that she would lose him right now if she didn't explain well enough. After a breath, she began, "It happened once. Anna slipped her boyfriend into the castle, and she made him bring a friend along. We drank a bit and Anna and Kristoff started making out. They've never done more than that, Anna said she wasn't okay with it going further. There was no chance of that, so I felt safe. And then Ragnvaldr," she didn't even stumble over his name, "and I were left pretty much alone, trying to not look at those two all tied up in each other, and I guess I wanted to feel like I had what they had. If only for a moment. It doesn't make sense, I know, We'd been drinking. But we started kissing and I felt. . . so good. He was a blacksmith, so we went to his forge. We didn't- I wouldn't let him do that. I'm Queen, I have to be a virgin. Always the fucking good girl. Having sex would have put any chance at marriage in danger. I wouldn't put Arendelle at risk like that, not even drunk on excitement and lust and alcohol. I know what I'm doing."

She didn't mean to get angry, Elsa meant to try and diffuse the situation. The last line came out defensive, regardless. Looking around, they were still alone. No servant had accidentally walked in on a confession that would have put a lot of heads that much closer to being on spikes.

"I've now told you far too much," Elsa continued, turning back to Prince Oakir. The realization of how true her own words were sent ice streaking across the floors and up the walls. "You could bring down my entire kingdom if you wanted to." She took a step back. This was the mistake Anna had made. It had seemed so foolish when her younger sister had done it, yet here she was.

"Elsa. . . I don't have any intention of that, and you know it. I just- I need some time to think and get back on my feet. Do you understand?"

Her heart didn't stop pounding, but it wasn't from fear after that. "Yes, I think I do."

"Then goodby for now." Prince Oakir gave the Queen a quick kiss on the cheek and left the library.

"So how did your date with the Prince go?"

"Anna! Ugh, Anna what are you doing in my room?"

"Waiting for you. How'd it go?"

"I froze his heart. His brothers from Kvenland are headed home now to call their banners and march on the castle."

"Oh hah hah. Seriously Elsa, is everything okay?" There was concern now on her sister's face.

There was enough feelings rolling around inside her that Elsa felt her magic building up, like ice water behind a dam in her mind. She wanted to sit, so with a wave of her hand she made a chair of ice and plopped down into it. "I don't know, Anna."

Her sister deftly pulled the chair from the vanity over and asked, "Elsa, do you need to talk about it, or would it be better not to?"

The Queen huffed. "We've already established that talking is the better course. I just don't feel like it right now, Anna."

"Okay. Then I will."

"What?"

"Today Kristoff and I went outside the city walls. He said he needed something for his next ice harvesting trip, but I think he just gets restless being in town for too long. There was plenty of people to talk to, but I noticed that some of them didn't want to talk to me. I'm glad Kristoff was there. But most of the people were really nice. I talked with this one woman who was running a shop that sold leather and hides while her husband made them. It smelled really bad, but she mentioned how business is picking up now that Weselton's cheap leather isn't being imported anymore. And I think if you'd been there she would have commiserated about the whole Hans thing."

"If I had been there, she would have been too busy stumbling over 'Your Majesty's and 'My Queen's to say anything. People can't talk to me the way they talk to you, Anna."

"I do," she retorted, sticking out her tongue.

"Yeah," Elsa sighed. "You always were weird."

"Oh shut up!" In a flash Anna pulled a pillow off the bed and launched it at her sister. Elsa blocked it unsteadily with one hand and then returned fire with a snowball, laughter ringing in her ears. But the second pillow caught her stomach and she fell back into the ice chair.

The sharp ice suddenly has shoots of red, and there was a stinging sensation along Elsa's right arm.

She hissed in pain.

"Oh my God, Elsa are you okay? Jesus I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, Anna." The Snow Queen saw the slice that ran from her forearm to her elbow, the gaping flesh about a centimeter deep and the blood welling up unevenly along it. "Anna, go to Gerda from the kitchens and tell her what's happened. Don't," she continued quickly as Anna jumped to her feet. "Don't. Panic. I'm going to be fine." She raised her arm. "This is not going to kill me."

Anna bolted from the room.

Elsa watched for a detached moment as the blood started to pool in the crease of her elbow. Then she took a breath and clamped her left hand over the cut to stop the bleeding.

That's when the pain really hit. A searing, throbbing pain. Elsa gritted her teeth and forced herself to remember that everything was under control. Gerda always knew what to do in these kinds of situations, and Anna was likely bolting as fast as she could through the castle to get her.

Every time she did anything the pain in her arm distracted her, demanding her attention and fragmenting her train of thought. "I wish Oakir was here," Elsa muttered to herself through gritted teeth.

Whether it was the pain, or the rush of confusion she suddenly felt when she said the Prince's name, her power started to overflow again. Her right hand frosted over, but with her left hand she was holding her wound. Cold started to sink into her arm and the pain subsided.

"Oh yeah. Cold." She took her hand away and the cut started welling up red blood again, almost angry against her porcelain skin and the snow white frost on it. The red lines that now ran down her arm made her feel a bit sick. With a bit more finesse she laid her left hand gently across the wound and made it colder. It made it sting even more for a moment, then gradually less. The fresh blood came slower. It was a start.

She took her hand away again and it was still bleeding. I need bandages. She knew how she made her ice dress, and with a wave of her left hand her right arm was sheathed in ice. Then, carefully, she pulled the magical woven ice tighter.

The blood started to soak through, but it made the pain less and the bleeding slower. Elsa scooted over to her bed with her arm cradled to her chest and laid back against the soft side of her mattress.

A few minutes later Gerda and Anna arrived and Elsa opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the maroon streaks on the arm of her ice chair, then the two women moving towards her. The portly matron who had cooked their food and treated their skinned knees and caught Anna sneaking around in the kitchens too many times to count cautiously took Elsa's wounded arm. There was a lot of blood on the ice wraps.

"Elsa dear, this was good but I'm going to need to take it off, okay? I need to see how bad it is."

The Queen wade a dismissive gesture and the ice vanished. Maybe five minutes after it happened and the flesh around the injury was violently red, and a bit swollen. But keeping it tightly wrapped had kept the bleeding to a minimum.

"I'm going to need to sew this. It's not going to be fun. Bishop John and the butcher are already on their way."

"The butcher?" Anna asked nervously. "Why did you call the butcher?"

"When you mentioned blood I figured I would need sheep's gut for stitches," Gerda said as she checked the Queen over for any other injuries. "Do you hurt anywhere else?" She shook her head. "Are you sure? It's not hard to miss a twisted ankle or a bruised hip after a fall, if you're distracted by other things."

Elsa felt her eyelids drooping. "I've had a long day, Gerda. I don't hurt, I'm just tired."

"No, that's loss of blood sweetie," the matron said with a snort. "Last week you called for dinner in your study at three in the morning, you don't 'just get tired.' But you're in good hands, and you did good keeping the wound tight and chilled. Let's get you into bed."

She smiled at that and let them help her up from where she sat.

"Gerda, is that the best idea?"

"She'll wake up just fine. We do need to clean her wound. I can't imagine anything being on that ice that would give her an infection, but it's always better to be safe."

"Are you sure? There's too much blood. This is all my fault."

"Anna," Elsa snapped. Her Queen voice was out now, fatigued as it was. "Accidents happen. If you hadn't been here to talk I would have been up all night worrying about. . ." she caught herself just before she said 'Oakir.' But it was Gerda. She didn't care. "Stupid boys," she finished.

"Heh. Yeah, they are stupid. But I still feel bad."

"Make it up to me by punching Oakir the same way you punched Hans."

"Your Majesty," Gerda said, obviously intent on stopping that conversation. "The last thing you need to wake up to is an international incident. Punching a Prince isn't a card that should be played lightly."

Anna had that look that she got she Gerda caught her sneaking into the kitchens in the middle of the night. "Hans deserved it."

"Yes he did." She turned to the Queen and continued, "And I doubt Prince Oakir did something to deserve such treatment."

Elsa made the look too.

The effort to stand had cleared her mind for a moment, but she was really starting to feel sleep nipping at her heels. She looked down and said, "Oh shit, I'm getting blood on my bed."

"And you'll get more on it when I sew you back up."

"But-"

"It's fabric, dear. It will be fine. It's a bitch to get out, but it won't be the first time Victoria has whitewashed bloody bedding. Now you rest."

Elsa didn't need to be told twice.

It was only a few minutes later that Bishop John and Shteven the butcher arrived, moments apart. Anna told them to be quiet, but that wasn't what woke the slumbering Queen. After giving Gerda what she needed, Shteven left. The Bishop remained. When Gerda tried to tip her a thimble of poppy extract Elsa roll her head away.

"It's okay, Your Majesty. It's okay. You need to take this. It will help you sleep."

She mumbled and scrunched her eyes, but the promise of sleep was the ticket. She drank.

Then Gerda turned to Anna. "Your Highness, you might want to leave now."

"No. Elsa is hurt, I will be here for her."

The matron didn't push the matter.

"How bad is it?" John asked.

"It should be fine, and I think there's little chance of infection. If it had cut through her clothes the cloth would be a concern, but it was her bare arm. And her own ice. . . I would think it's sterile as a fired needle." She was burning a candle and purifying needles as she spoke. "But I can't know that for sure. The poppy should have set in by now."

With a deft motion Gerda slipped a bit between the Queen's teeth, then set about washing the wound with spirits. Elsa screamed when the alcohol touched her arm and some part of Anna realized she couldn't accidentally bite her tongue. But the rest of her was nauseous, her stomach rolling at the bloodcurdling noise. It was more out of guilt for causing this and distress for her sister's pain than repulsion of the acts themselves. Gerda and the Bishop had carefully positioned themselves away from the Queen's hands and feet, and Anna realized as magic pooled in bubbling amorphic masses that she really should be more conscious of the danger her sister posed.

After that Elsa quieted, either because of the drugs or because the sewing of her flesh was less painful in comparison. Probably a bit of both. The magic died down to nothing but a frosting on the bedding. Gerda was quick and clean, and was done in no time. After that she carefully cleaned the blood off Elsa's arm and wrapped her in linen bandages. The Bishop busied himself with packing his various supplies of ointment for the bandages, alcohol, the needles and the bit.

Then under Gerda's direction Anna helped lift her sister while Bishop John pulled the bloody sheets and blankets off the bed. "Tell Victoria to come in as well," Gerda said as he made his leave.

The process of making the bed with Elsa still in it was interesting, but Gerda wasn't daunted. By this time it was late into the night and Elsa seemed to be coming out of the cloud of mind from the poppy extract because she reacted to the hushed activity.

Gerda said a few final words to the Princess. "If you notice she's getting a fever come get me at once, but she should be fine. She's not going to let this keep her down for long."

"Alright."

"Goodnight, Your Highness," Gerda said. Then she and Victoria left.

Since they'd gotten Elsa settled, Anna had been in the cozy chair from the vanity that she'd sat on earlier. There she fell asleep, watching over her sister.

LONG AN: So. . . my description may have been unintentionally misleading. The user xxxSimplyHookedxxx added this story to the "Conceal, Don't Feel" Hurt/Comfort Elsanna community. In case I mislead anyone, Elsa and Anna have a loving, sisterly relationship in this story. No incest. Sorry if that's what you were looking for. I've edited the description to be clear about this. There will be sex (appropriately walled off, with big "Do Not Disturb" signs on the doors in case you want the story but not the smut), just not that sex.

Felt like I needed to clarify that, especially if anyone is finding this story through that community and comes in with the wrong expectations. Also, I hope you guys and gals are really feeling the position Elsa is in as Queen, because it's one of the most interesting parts of Frozen that was sort of left as backdrop of the movie because of the need to be PG. It's one of the reasons why I'm still writing this. Elsa is such an amazing character, and writing in her headspace just feels. . . powerful. Gods she is something fierce. I may be taking the ice magic part of her too far and mixing in the character Storm from X-Men, or maybe I'm complimenting my ex girlfriend (whom this story is largely about). Sorry not sorry. As I said in the extended description in my bio, I'm trying to see things from her point of view. Going the rest of my life thinking of her as a heartless bitch isn't healthy, and it also isn't fair to her or me. So here's to you Jazz. *raises shot of Sailor Jerry's Caribbean Spiced Rum*

EDIT: Moved all these disruptive Author's Notes except the very first one to the bottom of chapters for a better reading experience.