❆ ELSA QUEEN ❆

The frosty October air rushed through the train station as a train thundered down the tracks; the light of the subway illumining the sky along with the towering sky scrapers all around a figure masked in a grey sweater.

A brown duffle-bag sat at their hip, hood up as they walked across the station, eyes downwards as their boots clicked across the cement.

Sitting on one of the benches, they sigh, looking up towards the flickering light of the lamp above them. Mumbling about how work had been hell, their boss had refused to extend the deadline—despite the fact that the task was imposible.

A man sat down next to them with a huff, suitcase lying in his lap. "Hard day at work?" They questioned, slipping a strand of platinum blonde hair back over their ear.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah. You could say that."

Another train rushed past, tossing more platinum blonde hair out of their hood. "If I were to jump in front of that train right now, what would you do?" The figure turned towards the man, letting him see their features.

Her features.

Her ice-blue eyes stared back at him emotionlessly as the porcelain skin around her eyes scrunched as she smiled. "Would you pull me back? Or just watch?"

The metal barrel of a gun pressed against his coat, eyes widening in fear. Flickers of red blood flash through his eyes; rewatching as a teenage girl stared at him in betrayal in front of a moving train as he watches.

Just watch...

Just watch...

Just watch.

"No," He whispers in horror, shooting up from his seat. "No," He says again, louder. "T-There's no way you could know about that. I b-bribed them all—how did you find out!?"

"Find out what? That you murdered your daughters best friend? The same teenage girl you had been having an affair on your wife with for months prior to that?" She clicks the gun and grips onto his chin with the other hand, staring straight into his panic stricken dull-brown eyes.

"Did you kill her, Madigan? Did you kill Tonya Simmons?"

Tears pool in his eyes, his gloved hands gripping onto her wrist. "Y-Yes. I...I killed Tonya."

Her hands leave him, gun going back in it's hoist. "Scum," She flicks her wrist and a group of men come out behind pillars, guns raised as a tall African American places cuffs on the shaking man.

Sighing, she flicks the hood off, her braid cascading down her back in messy waves. "Wow, looked like you really got to him," A voice says from besides her, laughing awkwardly.

"Olaf," She states with a grimace, looking down at her intern. Even after all this time, he was still sympathetic towards the criminals, "He's going to rot in prison for at least 50 years—if not a life sentence. Which frankly is more likely."

"He needed to be afraid in order to confess, this man is pathological Liar. Meaning he believes his own lies. Polygraph tests didn't do shit; so they couldn't catch him. Which is exactly why I'm going to be in court with him. He's scared as all hell now," Olaf nods, pulling out a little pocket book to jot it all down.

"Do you think they'd let me in the court room with you?" Olaf eagerly asks, checking the watch on his wrist to check the time.

Olaf was a seventeen year old boy who had chosen to intern at the law office to fulfill his school requirements last year, and turns out it had stuck, seeing as he was back once more.

Frankly, she hadn't liked Olaf at first, he was impulsive and likes to smoke cigarettes in alleys. Being paired with him was no walk in the park, and although he still smoked—he knew never to do it around her.

"I don't see—"

"—Agent Queen," Her boss cuts off the conversation, looking down at her. "I see you caught the suspect. He confused I presume?" He quirked one of his eyes brows up and she nods.

"Yes Sir, it wasn't that hard. He's clearly traumatized by what he's done." Olaf got the message and walked over to one of the officers standing by.

"Think he may try to plead insanity?"

"No Sir," A sly smirk appears on her face, "Plus, it's very clear that at the time of the murder he wasn't mentally unstable. He just didn't want his wife and children to find out about the affair."

Agent Crowley pats her on the back with look on his face that was as close to proud as he got while at work. "Good work, Agent. Spend the rest of the night on the town, the paperwork will still be there tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir."

"Make sure you text me when you get home, okay?" Agent Queen said softly, ruffling Olaf's shaggy brown hair, blue highlights running through it.

"Yeah yeah, Mom,Will do, besides, you and I both know nothin' ever happens to me," Olaf chortles, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his bag.

"I know, but it's still 1 AM, you never know what kind of creepers are out, especially on the subway."

"Fair point," Olaf grins, pulling out his phone to check that it was in fact 1 AM already. He would be anxiously messaging his Mom right now, but after the first few months of it she understood that a lot of late nights were common. He send her a quick 'On my way home' despite knowing she wouldn't see it because she was asleep then looked back up at Queen.

"Take tomorrow off, okay? Your literally spending your vacation here, no normal teenage boy does that. Spend time with your folks, or—or maybe get a haircut."

Olaf had to admit. He did need a haircut. REEAAAALLLLLY badly.

"Okay. I will, but Whatchu' gonna'do?" He questioned.

"Well, what's tomorrow?"

"15th."

"Shit," She cursed, pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. "I have plans with my sister tomorrow, that's what I'll be doing."

"Ah, nice. Tell Ana I say hi, yeah?" Olaf bounces on his heels as his train pulls into the station.

If she doesn't kill me...

"Of course," She smiled, ruffing his hair once more before turning to leave. "Cya later, Kiddo."

Agent Queen's feet drag against the floor as she pushes the door closed, hanging the keys on the rack as she pulls off her shoes; flipping the light to the kitchen on.

Passing by the phone, she pushes the button to play the voicemails as she opens the fridge. Pulling out bread and putting it into the toaster, she pours herself some tea as the first voicemail plays.

"Hey Elsa, it's me, Ana. I know you loose track of what day it is, so I'm not annoyed with you never texting me back about the plans tomorrow. But please call me back, okay?" BEEP.

She nods at the message. She did need to text Ana back about the plans tomorrow. She and Ana had made plans to go out to a café on the 15th, then spend the afternoon together, but Elsa had never gotten back on the for sure place.

She munches on her toast as the next one plays.

"Hey, it's me again. It's getting late, and the kids are already in bed, but I don't want to make Kristof watch the kids if I'm just going to be stood up, please call me back." BEEP.

"ELSA. I swear to God, if you are just avoiding me because of what happened last time I'm going to drag you out of bed tomorrow morning and bring you stopping with me, you hear!?" BEEP.

Elsa shivers at the thought. It wasn't that she didn't like shopping, it was just Ana's meaning of shopping that she didn't necessarily like. Ana's shopping went on for hours, having many shiny moments that caused them to spend hours on end in one store just to head to another one after that.

"I'm going to be over at your house at 10 tomorrow, I don't care if you're up or not. See you then, love you." BEEP.

Elsa sighs, rubbing her temple as she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting the stands fall loose.

She had been teasing Olaf for needing a haircut, when in all honesty, it was her that needed a haircut. You just couldn't tell when it was in its braid.

Tomorrow.

Sitting on the couch, she curls up around one of the throw pillows and turns on a rerun of Friends.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

.

.

-I would love to know what you all think about this shot in the dark I'm taking.

-anything interesting you pick up on?

-Updates every other Sunday.

Bye—

-ODDBAll

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