All aboard the fluff train for a bit before we're headed back into the Tunnel of Angst!

Chapter Seventeen: Safety Net

Lunch could have gone better. Not that there was really anything wrong, per se, rather I made it awkward because I was just being…well, me.

Want more specifics? Particularly, I barely picked at my food, busy deep in thought of what to do about my developing feelings for Elsa. I mean, I knew they were reciprocated now, right? Sure, some doubt still lingered, but my optimistic bone—yes, I have an optimistic bone—was screaming at me that I wouldn't learn anything by simply keeping quiet. Plus, you learn from your mistakes; isn't that what all parents teach their children? God knows my parents preached that to me left and right in childhood. So, even if Elsa wasn't talking about me, I'll at least know, and can finally put it behind me. I'd still be her friend, definitely, and I'd probably still follow her around like a lost puppy, but I would not allow myself to get hurt.

Of course, that was most likely easier said than done.

I had also yet to ask anyone out on a date, ever. Asking Elsa out to that day in the park was awkward enough, and that was simply a hang-out; nothing more. If I was to ask her out on a date-date, I knew I'd most likely end up in the hospital because I would either die from excitement from the answer yes, or heartbreak from the answer no.

Okay, so there I go being dramatic again, but everyone should be used to that by now.

"Really, Anna?" Elsa chides me one night at the gym. "That was your sloppiest form yet."

I flinch at her slightly condescending tone and turn to face her guiltily.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"You're thinking too much again. Whatever it's about, I don't know, but it's clearly affecting your focus."

If you knew I was thinking about asking you out, would you cut me some slack? I wonder in my head. No way am I saying that out loud.

Still, would that constitute a clever way to ask her out? You know, rather than staring dreamily into her eyes and asking in every cliché way in the book?

"Anna!"

I jump, my hands coming up to protect my face instinctively. "I'm sorry!"

Elsa chuckles as she gently lowers my gloves away from my face. "It's okay, Anna," she's laughing. "I'm not going to hit you. Or yell at you." She looks away for a moment and gnaws at those…wait for it…supple lips. "I'm just worried."

"You are?"

"You've been spacing out a lot during training lately."

"I have?"

Of course I have, I grumble internally. Even a complete stranger could tell my head is rarely in the game anymore. God only knows how I managed to win the tournament. Best keep playing dumb for now; see where that gets me.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, a tinge of concern laced in her voice.

Gritting my teeth, I refuse to let myself meet her eyes.

"Yeah," I mumble, "I just…"

"You just…?"

My eyes squeeze shut of their own accord before I blurt out, "I want to take you out."

Her hands drop from mine, and I can feel my palms begin to sweat inside my gloves. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach.

Fuck. I totally just mucked everything up all over again. Of course.

And, fuck me again, Elsa looks absolutely terrified.

"You… What?" she whispers, like she can't understand the concept that anyone would want to go out with her.

And I know I can't back down now, so I take a deep breath and restate it, putting as much emotion as I can into those words so she knows I'm serious.

"I want to take you out, Elsa. To dinner. As in a date."

I watch her avert her gaze to the floor, but a flicker of hope ignites in me as I see the corners of her lips twitch upward in a telltale grin. I allow myself to begin to do the same.

"I was…" she whispers before clearing her throat, looking at me again with a flush of her cheeks. "I was thinking I was going to have to ask you first."

That spark of hope catches at her words and bursts into a full-fledged wildfire. Holy shit she wanted to ask me too all this time.

I was fucking right; she is falling for me. Hell to the yeah.

I grin and reach upwards to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. At the same time, I whisper, "Then you can ask me out on our second date."

She arches an eyebrow haughtily, though always with a smile. "You're so confident this first one will go well?"

Playing along, I reply, "Well, of course. It's me you're going out with. I'm the Date Master!"

Far from the truth, but I can roll with it.

"A real Cassanova, hm?" she inquires in a freaking sultry voice.

"T-Totally," I stutter, caught off guard by her tone as heat pools in my core.

"Then I accept," she tells me confidently, though her blush only increases.

Mine does the same as I manage to squeak out, "Great."

XxXxX

Needless to say, the morning after I ask Elsa out, I'm sprinting to Kristoff's like a madman. Pounding on his door, I wait with baited breath as he lumbers to the door.

"What?" he groans upon opening, and I know I've just woken him up. Usually I'd feel a bit sorry, but this is an emergency; this is life or death.

Well, to me, anyway.

"I need your help Kristoff because a few days ago Elsa and I went to the cemetery to visit her parents' graves and then I decided to give her some space but I overheard her say she thinks she was falling in love with 'her' and I was pretty sure that her was me, so I broke down at the gym last night and asked her out on a date-date and she said yes and now I'm freaking out 'cause I don't know the first thing about dating, nor do I know the city and where a good place for a date would be and I don't want to make it cliché, but that's kind of how everything's been with us so far so maybe I should keep to that but I want it to be perfect and you're my best friend so you need to help me make this date perfect, okay?"

I'm panting by the time I'm finished and Kristoff just stands there blinking at me, surely wondering where I get my energy when it's nine thirty in the morning on a Saturday. Stifling a yawn, he shakes his head.

"Anna," he starts, "I seriously only got like a fourth of that. Now, will you come in, eat some breakfast, calm down, and tell me again? Slowly?"

I resist the urge to smack him, because fuck if I'm going to remember all of that, but I also know I did just spit that at him and I probably hold the record for the longest run-on sentence in the world by now. So, half-heartedly I agree, and follow Kristoff inside.

We're seated at his kitchen table, me fishing cereal with a spoon while he scarfs down eight pieces of toast and two cups of coffee.

"So," he mumbles with his mouth full, halfway done with his fifth slice. "You asked Elsa out?"

I nod.

"And she said yes."

Another nod.

Kristoff begins his sixth piece. "So what's the problem?"

I let my head fall forward to hit the table, narrowly avoiding my full bowl of cereal.

"I have no clue what to do now!" I cry. "Kristoff, you know I've never dated anyone before! What the hell do I do?"

Kristoff scoffs at me like I've just asked if two plus two equals five.

"What do you mean, 'what do you do?' You take her out! Take her to dinner, walk around the city, talk, laugh, flirt." He sighs. "It's basically like any other day only now it has a label."

"O-Okay," I mutter. "I can do that; we've done all that already."

"Exactly, so just do it again," he tells me. "You're not asking her to marry you, just treating her."

"But it feels so much different!" I exclaim.

He shrugs, now finished with his breakfast and clearing the table. "It really shouldn't unless you let it. We give extra meaning to things we don't need to and then we think that immediately makes them harder. You want to know why so many dates fail? Because people try too hard. Just…act like it's any other day, and you're fine."

"Still, I want to make this special," I tell him. "I mean, Elsa still doesn't go out in public much so this is big step for her. I mean, do I make the effort to take us somewhere there aren't many people?"

A second shrug is part of my answer. "That's something you'll have to ask her, I suppose."

I groan. "So which way would have me coming off less awkward? Calling her up and being, like, 'hey, Elsa, I know you said you'd go out with me, but I also know you hate the public's eye, so should I reserve the entire restaurant just for us,' or just wing it and hope the people don't freak her out and know who she is?"

Kristoff chuckles as he ruffles my hair. "You're thinking too hard, Anna. What did I just tell you? Just put your heart into it without overdoing it and it will be fine. I know whatever you do, Elsa will be happy. She loves you, kiddo, whether she herself realizes it yet or not."

"Thanks, Kris," I mumble, smiling somewhat. "I just want to make her happy."

"You have," he responds. "More than either of you realize, I'm sure." He winks. "Go get her, girl."

Chuckling, I ask him one last thing.

"You got any recommended places to eat?"

XxXxX

It's seven o' clock at night, and I have every dress in my closet draped across my bed. And by every dress, I really just mean three; I've never much liked the clothing. I can't imagine trying to decide what to wear if I had more than what I have; this is too difficult already.

Do I go with black? Sure, black is good for all occasions, and the dress does look great on me; even I know that. At the same time though, it really draws out how many freckles I have, as well as pronouncing how red my hair truly is. I wish I knew if Elsa likes my freckles…

Then there's a blue and white floral patterned one. I immediately hang that one back up in the closet. It's too summery for it being late fall now, plus it makes me look like a little kid. I need to go into this date looking drop-dead hot. Sexy. I need Elsa staring at me with hooded eyes, not giggling at me because I remind her of a child.

The final dress is a short green dress. I would have to wear tights or leggings underneath it because it barely goes past half my thighs, but I do love its color. Emerald green; the color of trees back in Kentucky during the summer. I most likely just brought this dress with me to remind me of home. I never really thought green was my color since my hair is red and I tend to come off looking ready for Christmas, but Kristoff said he loved it. So, yeah, he's a guy and most men don't have valid opinions when it comes to a woman's clothing, but he's basically my older brother, so I tend to take his words to heart more than I would another guy.

So, black or green? I keep wondering what Elsa's wearing and that always brings a blush to my face and causes me to lose several minute's time as I busy myself fantasizing, but hell if I can help it. I mean, Elsa dressed up? The most dressed up I've seen her was those skinny jeans and cardigan in the park that day and I almost got a nosebleed just from that. What am I supposed to do when she answers the door in a stunning dress? I'm certain if I was in an anime show, my spirit would just exit my body immediately.

The image causes me to chuckle, and I reach for the green dress, knowing I'm wasting time. I told Elsa I'd be at her place by eight, and I still need to do my hair and makeup.

And I can't be late on the first date.

I halt halfway inside the bathroom.

Date. That's what tonight is: an actual, legitimate date. I'm taking Elsa out to dinner. I asked out Elsa Arendelle and she said yes to me. Me! The teenaged nobody from Kentucky. Me! The awkward little kid who can hardly say two sentences to Elsa without blushing.

I'm in fucking Nirvana as I finish getting ready.

By the time I'm heading to Elsa's, I'm surprised I managed to be on time. Grabbing a coat on the way out—because it's early November now and the cold has always bothered me—and sparing my hair and dress one last glance, I determine I'm ready. I had managed to put my hair up in a tight bun and weave a French braid in it, just like my mom used to do. I think I look pretty damn good, and while I'm sure I can't come close to holding a candle to Elsa's sure beauty, I still take some comfort.

It's eight o' clock on the dot when I exit the elevator on Elsa's floor. Shuffling nervously down the hallway, I pause before her door. Staring into the grooves on its wood base, I become pensive. So many big moments for me and Elsa have happened in front of and behind this door. Coming here for the first time and learning Elsa's secret; spending the night twice and once in her bed; apologizing profusely in a monologue complete with flowers and chocolates. So many feelings arise when I think of this door, and yeah, that might be weird, but it's true.

Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I knock out my usual rhythm on the door.

And damn near collapse in a pile of molten heat when Elsa answers the door.

I knew she was going to look out of this world but…

Hot. Damn.

She's wearing a fucking suit!

"Hi, Anna," she greets me softly, and I'm only partially aware of her eyes scanning my attire with a blush as I just stand there gawking.

Holy hell, I never thought a woman in a suit could look so good. I mean, sure, I like a woman in a suit because just the idea is sexy, but Elsa pulls it off better than any other woman could even hope to. The jacket is a dark gray with a light blue shirt underneath, matching gray pants and black heels. Her hair is done in its signature braid and is draped elegantly over her shoulder.

"Am I dressed okay?" she asks me in a near whisper, and I come back to earth to find her chewing on her lip and hugging her right arm.

"'Okay?'" I repeat. "Elsa, you look freaking hot! I love women in suits!"

So maybe I should have toned that down a bit, but I did get a brilliant blush out of Elsa in return, so I refuse to take anything back.

"T-Thanks," she mumbles, looking shyly at the ground, and I have to physically restrain myself before I just push her back inside her apartment and forget all about dinner. "I'm not a fan of dresses."

I laugh and reply, "Me neither, but I doubt I could pull off the suit look."

She smiles more confidently and looks up at me. "I bet you could," she tells me before blushing once more. "You… You'd look good in anything."

I grin, not even trying to hide how happy her comment made me.

"Well then maybe we'll both wear suits next time!"

Trying my best to be romantic, yet comedic—because I'm just me—I bow slightly and extend a hand towards Elsa.

"So, my lady, shall we go to dinner?" I ask.

She giggles in turn and takes my hand with another shy utterance of, "Yes, please." And screw the fact that the person in the dress is escorting the person in the suit; Elsa and I are anything but ordinary.

I was hoping the weather would be a bit warmer so we could walk through the park to a restaurant on the other side and just chat—and flirt—for a while, but it just had to be cold, so I go with plan B. We turn a corner onto W 56th street and I see Elsa grin from the corner of my eye.

"I think I know where we're going," she says.

I match her grin and say, "Well, you live here—or have longer than me—so I wasn't trying to take you someplace new." Bumping her shoulder, I add, "But faking surprise will still make me feel good."

She chuckles as we come to a stop underneath a red awning, the name BASSO56 printed on the door before us. Sure enough, Elsa makes a point to gasp and look at me in mock surprise.

"I really had no idea," she exclaims with another grin.

I shrug my shoulders. "Kristoff actually suggested it," I mumble. "Me still being new to the city and all, I thought he'd have a good idea of where to go."

"So, he…knows?"

My eyes widen and I gulp, looking back to Elsa. "Was I not supposed to tell him? I'm so sorry, Elsa, I just got so excited and I needed help and he's always been there for me and-."

"Anna!" she interrupts with a small laugh. "It wasn't supposed to be kept secret. Maybe don't go flaunting it to the media or anything, but it's okay he knows. I was just wondering. I know how close the two of you are; I really didn't expect anything else."

I sigh. "Then don't scare me like that!" I cry. "Jesus, we haven't even sat down yet and I thought I had screwed the night up."

Elsa takes my arm and plants a kiss on my cheek—though I do take notice that she wandered awfully close to my lips for the first time.

"You didn't mess anything up, I promise," she whispers. "Don't sell yourself short, okay?"

I manage a numb nod. She smiles and pulls on my arm.

"Shall we go?"

Nodding with more vigor this time, I reach to open the door for her, whispering, "My lady," again as she passes.

I did make a point to get a table in the back of the restaurant so we would be somewhat excluded from the majority of the diners for Elsa's comfort. Though I had noticed on our walk here that she only looked around her twice compared to the near two dozen before and my chest swells with pride for her. She's getting there.

A waiter comes by in no time and fills our water glasses and takes our drink orders. I encourage Elsa to get a drink if she wants, claiming I don't mind her drinking in front of me since I don't much care for alcohol anyway. She does end up ordering a glass of wine, but assures me she will only have one. I am paying after all, she tells me with a wink.

"Sometimes it slips my mind how young you are," she partly mumbles under her breath as she watches me take a sip of my Coke through a straw.

"Is that awkward?" I ask with a tinge of worry.

Smiling, she shakes her head. "Not at all," she assures. "It means you don't act your age. In a good way. You're mature."

My smile becomes crooked as I mumble, "That's what happens when you're forced to grow up too soon."

Her smile quickly vanishes and a look of worry shadows her face. I see her questioning gaze and send her a somber smile before looking down at the table.

"I-It's nothing," I quip hastily.

Elsa reaches across the table and gently takes my hand, her fingers smoothing over my knuckles soothingly. I can't fend off the blush that overtakes my face.

"It's clearly not nothing, Anna," she whispers.

My smile flickers as I meet her gaze. "Well, it's not great first date material, at least."

She nods in understanding before swiftly dropping the subject. I don't intend to keep anything from her, but this really isn't the place to divulge secrets of my own. Elsa will come to find out; after all, it's only fair I confide the demons of my past in her since she did the same with me.

"So," I drawl out, trying to get back on track, "any…embarrassing high school stories?"

That draws a laugh out of Elsa, and we're instantly back on our predetermined course.

"Oh, where do I begin?"

The night goes smoothly from then on. Elsa and I share countless stories with each other. I find out about her high school affinity for math and how everyone hated her because she was so good at the subject and I tell her how Kristoff and I tried to play hooky from gym one day, but he ended up getting the seat of his pants stuck on the chain link fence we attempted to jump and so we spent the rest of the day in detention instead. She shares when she lost her mom in the mall one day and ran from store to store a crying mess until she found her, and I share the time I set off the car alarm at three in the morning and made everyone in our neighborhood hate our family for a week.

Our food comes and is amazing—because who can go wrong with Italian—but I honestly hardly taste it because Elsa is sitting right across from me, smiling and blushing and laughing; all because of me. Of course, she's doing the same to me, but I can't help feeling like it's a bigger deal with her. I mean, this is the girl who just months ago would barely say more than three words at a time to me. This is the girl I had such a hard time reading that I became frustrated to no end. This is the girl who ran from me when I came too close to discovering her secret too soon. We still had plenty of hurdles to make, but I couldn't deny the progress that had already been made.

And Elsa didn't even look around the restaurant the entire night once.

"Then our teacher came to our room to tell us to quiet down, as they could hear us laughing all the way down the hall," I finish a story of mine as we exit the restaurant hours later. Elsa has me by the arm again as she laughs at the retelling of a field trip from eighth grade.

"You were a rambunctious child, weren't you?" she asks with a grin.

"Nah," I reply with a shrug and smile, "I just got sucked in to the wrong crowd."

"Mm-hmm, sure. I'll make sure to ask Kristoff for the truth there."

"It's true!" I cry indignantly as she laughs again. "If anything, it's his fault! I mean, who wrestles their tiny-human sized dog?"

We make it back to Elsa's place before we know it. I walk her up the stoop before we come to a stop. She turns to face me and I immediately flush crimson, pushing imaginary hairs behind my ears.

"I had a great time tonight, Anna," she tells me sincerely.

"I-I did too," I mumble.

"You…want to come up for tea or coffee?"

I huff out a small laugh. "I stay at your place almost as much as mine."

She grins and snakes a hand up around my neck. "Is that a problem?" she croons in my ear.

I'm about to turn to jelly from her voice alone, never mind the hand now in my hair, but somehow I manage, "It is when I'm not getting my rent's worth."

"One cup of coffee?" she basically begs, eyes alight with mirth but with the soft undertone of hope.

Smiling, I turn my head to kiss her hand. "Okay."

Beaming, she pulls me inside.

Of course, one cup of coffee turns to two cups of coffee and a movie on TV before we eventually wind up snuggled in Elsa's bed once more. Not that I'm complaining, really. I mean, who would?

Halfway through the night though, I'm awakened by soft cries. I open my heavy eyes and roll over to see Elsa curled in on herself and in the pale light of the moon outside, I can see the tear tracks on her cheeks. She chokes on a sob in her sleep and my heart breaks.

She's having a dream; or a nightmare, more likely.

"Elsa," I whisper, stroking her cheek. "Hey."

Her eyes flutter open and I watch as they focus on me. They move to take in the hand wiping tears beneath her eye before zeroing back in on my face.

"Anna?" she asks, as if she's afraid I'm just a figment of her dream.

"It's me," I tell her with a soft smile. "Bad dream?"

She nods before huddling closer to me. My arms go to wrap around her as her hand clenches the borrowed t-shirt of hers I'm wearing in a fist. I'm only vaguely aware of her right arm wrapped around me to the best of its ability in a hug.

"Yeah," she sobs. "My p-parents."

I plant a kiss in her hair. "Do you dream of them often?"

I feel her nod into my chest.

Thinking of what I could possibly do to make her feel better, I roll to my back, pulling her with me so she's nestled against my side.

"I have nightmares a lot, too," I say.

I see her peek up at me. "You do?"

Nodding, I look down at her. "You know how you said I'm mature for my age at dinner?"

She nods. My hand begins to run through her hair.

"Well, it's about that."

"W-What happened?"

Closing my eyes, I tighten my hold on the girl in my arms.

"When I was eight, my cousin and uncle were murdered right in front of me."