A week had passed since the night of the dinner, and Jack had not heard from or seen Elsa. The day after he had returned, his parents had drilled him with questions about her, but all he would answer was that it was a delicious dinner, and he hoped to do it again sometime. His mother had given him a coy smile, and let the subject be.

She wasn't at the cemetery when he visited Jamie's grave, and when he hobbled past her house, she had her curtains closed. He knew she would have to see him at his physical therapy appointment, but to his surprise and disappointment, she wasn't his therapist that day. Jack wasn't sure if she was sick or if this was some attempt to avoid him since that awkward kiss, but he planned on finding out.

"So, ah... what was your name? Edmund?" He cringed in pain as a larger tattooed gentlemen bent his leg in places he was sure it wasn't supposed to go.

"Yea mate... Edmund." The man in scrubs replied in a heavy Australian accent. "Does that hurt?" Another bend.

"AH, yes. It does! Please stop doing it!" Jack exclaimed, his brow furrowing in annoyance at this man. "So..." He began after the man had rolled his eyes at him. "When is Elsa coming back?"

"She was here yesterday mate... switched her days and a couple of patients around. I'm your new therapist now."

Jack felt something going on in the pit of his stomach, like a brick had been dropped. So she was avoiding him. Avoiding him so much that she made sure he wasn't her patient anymore. He finished the appointment without another word, something for which he was sure Edmund was grateful.

Jack stood in front of her house with her clothes she had lent him in his hand. It was now, or never, to find out what was going on. If he had made her uncomfortable, he wanted to apologize. If he hadn't, he wanted to figure out exactly what he had done wrong. He limped up the steps, pressing her doorbell and waiting. He waited, and waited for almost five minutes until finally the door opened slowly.

She stood there in a pair of black sweatpants and overly large t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. Jack gave her a small wave and said, "Can we talk?"

With a sigh that sounded almost annoyed, she opened the door for him and in he went, surprised to see Anna sitting on the couch again. She sat with a mug of something in her hand, also in sweats and looked at Jack with both of her eyebrows raised. He saw her watching the two of them as they went into Elsa's bedroom, and she shut the door behind him.

"What is it Jack?" She said softly, sounding tired.

He furrowed his brow, confused. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked as he placed the folded clothes on her bed.

She looked uncomfortable and stepped away, facing her dresser. "No.. of course not, why would you think that?"

"Might have something to do with the fact that you made another person take me on as a patient. Now I have to deal with this big oaf torturing me. I don't understand... is it because of that kiss?"

She froze, and then turned quickly to face him, her face devoid of emotion. "What kiss?"

He let out a harsh laugh. "Come on Elsa... you know what kiss."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Ugh, fine! You don't understand Jack. I haven't tried to kiss anyone since he died. I was drunk yes, but I still tried to kiss you and you didn't want me to!"

"Didn't... want you to? Elsa, I didn't want you to do something you were going to regret in the morning." Jack sat on her bed, a reprieve for his leg. He lifted his hand, pushing his fingers through his blonde tendrils and shook his head.

He looked up at her to see her biting her lower lip, her eyes slightly wide. She let out a small sigh, and sat next to him on the bed. "I know.. you were just trying to be a gentlemen. I guess my feelings were hurt, but I was also scared." She drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

Neither spoke. The silence continued for minutes until Jack felt her hand atop of his. "How did your therapy go?" She asked. "I know Edmund isn't the... nicest of people. His bedside manner isn't so great."

Jack scoffed. "It sucked... reminded me of the reason why I stopped going in the first place."

"You know... I mean... you could always.." Elsa sputtered, looking anywhere but at him. "You could stop going, and we can just do private sessions. Of physical therapy." She clarified.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that we could just do it at my house. There's a track down the road at the High School..."

"What do you get out of it?" Jack asked, narrowing his blue eyes. "The insurance doesn't exactly pay out that way."

She looked at him, her fingers fidgeting. "Well, since Anna has Kristoff now, it looks like I won't have as many cozy pajama nights with her drinking hot chocolate. So all I ask in return, is that you keep me company."

Jack didn't have to think about it, he held out a hand which she shook. He knew what it felt like to be lonely.

Jack did not inform his parents that he would no longer be attending his therapy sessions. He would simply tell them he was taking himself, and would find himself at Elsa's doorstep instead. After all, they wouldn't feel he was getting the best care spending time with a woman. Elsa, twice a week now, stood waiting at her door when she knew he was coming, ready to start the day.

On one of the nights he had promised Elsa he would be spending watching movies with her, he grabbed his rucksack full of his clothes and gave a happy, "See you mom and dad!" Out to his parents.

"Son, wait..." His father rushed after him as Jack stepped out of the house.

Jack turned, an expectant look on his face. "Yeah dad?"

"Are you going to... that girls house again?" His father asked, staring through his spectacles at his son. It seemed Jack had been home less and less in the past few weeks, and as they both noticed had a little more of a spring in his step.

Jack rolled his eyes, and turned walking away, his cane providing providing less support than he had needed in a while. "Yes dad... and no, it's not like that..."

Elsa sat already in her pajamas on the couch. Her legs, barely covered in a pair of sleeping shorts were curled beneath her. A snowflake patterned blanket lay over her shoulders covering the tank top beneath.

When she heard the door open she didn't even steal a glance away from the television, knowing already who it was. She heard the familiar noise of his cane being hung on the door handle when it shut, as well as the sound of his sneakers coming off and being pushed against the wall. It was only when she felt the cushions next to her deflate that she looked away from the movie and at her new found and dear friend.

"I'm surprised your parents haven't questioned where you keep going off to!" Elsa exclaimed, pausing the movie. She stared with adoration at Jack, inwardly thanking him for the companionship he had been providing her with for weeks. Most times she had tried to befriend a member of the opposite sex it ended up with him trying to make it into something more. Not Jack. He hadn't even spoke of their kiss they had shared, no did he do anything more than give her occasional hugs.

She lifted a stemmed glass to her face, taking a sip of the white liquid inside.

He lifted a brow. "Wine? Didn't you learn your lesson?" He nudged her smirking and stood, heading into the bathroom to change into his pajamas. He came out, dressed in a t-shirt with his sleeves cut off as well as a park of basketball shorts. He sat carefully on the couch, keeping his distance and noted the glass that was now sitting on his side. "Well thank you." She smiled at him in return.

"I figured that tonight..." Elsa began, "We could get to know each other a little better. We'll play the questions game. I figured the wine would loosen it up a little bit." She finished, smiling at his confused face.

"Hm. Okay. Who asks first?"

"I do, because you're in my home." Elsa turned to face him, crossing her legs beneath herself, and they began drilling each other with questions. He asked her about her childhood, about how she became a physical therapist, and she asked him why he joined the military, and what else he might want to do with his life.

It wasn't until about two hours had passed and the bottle of wine was done that they began asking more personal questions. He sat with one leg out, and his good one beneath him, and she sat across from him, trying to get the last drops from her glass.

"In the picture up there you look like you were pregnant... what happened?" He asked softly. He saw that her eyes closed and she took in a shuttering deep breath.

"I lost the baby.. all of the stress, I didn't really take care of myself. I tried to, but it was hard knowing he was gone." Elsa replied, and she shrugged not looking at him.

"I'm sorry Elsa... that must have been horrible." Jack moved on the couch and reached to her. She followed his lead and moved as well, placing her head on his shoulder so he could put an arm around her. He felt her shaking beneath his arm and felt wetness on his shirt.

"Losing people... it's hard. I've never lost a child but..." He began, and he rubbed her arm. "The grave... the man I said was like my brother, I watched him die in combat. I haven't been quite right since."

She lifted her head to look at him, and he saw the pain etched into her face. Perhaps it made her think of her husband, or perhaps she just felt that sorry for him. "We're both pretty messed up, huh?" She sniffed.

"Yeah. Yeah we are."

He watched as she moved from her spot to scoot closer to him. He froze as she took a deep breath and crawled onto his lap, placing a leg on either side of him.

"Elsa, what are you doing?" He said quietly. She simply stared at him, lifting her hand to run her fingers across his cheek. She felt the stubble that was growing, felt his hot breath on her hand. He watched her, his expression wary.

She leaned into him, cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his. Without thinking, he put his arms around her and pulled her against him, his lips moving quickly against hers. Together they sat on the couch, kissing and nothing more than finally breaking a barrier that they had both put up for a very, very long time.