I don't own Frozen. M rating for sexual references.
They landed at an airstrip by the English Channel on the northeast side of The Hague. A spouted a few Dutch words to the woman behind the counter of a rental car company, and the two were off on the A4 that led directly into the Amsterdam city centre. They played one of A's mixed CDs in the car, the poppy tunes at significant odds with the severe tone of their expedition. A sang along. Jane listened, and joined in when she could on the choruses. Appropriately, "Proud Mary" erupted through the speakers as they crossed the first water channel. Canals off the Amstel River branched into the city like aggressive capillaries, breaking apart the flat terrain with water obstacles and boats of varying sizes and utilities. The waterways seemed to spiral outward, the shape like an open eye on the earth's surface, glaring toward space, perpetually brimming with tears.
A navigated as Jane drove, and when they pulled in front of a six story brick behemoth of a hotel, Jane almost shrank back from the building. The Amstel Amsterdam Intercontinental Heritage Hotel faced the square on one side, the river on the other. A stepped out of the car with a poise that meant she was in character, back straight as a rod and smirk practiced as Jane's own yoga positions. There was no instruction, other than a nod of her head to Jane, directing her to hand the keys over to a valet.
Of course a place like this would have a garage. It's palatial.
A sauntered straight up to the concierge desk and began babbling intently with the man behind the desk in rapid, high Dutch. The man was obviously charmed. Jane, however, was awed by the checkered marble flooring, the tinkling golden chandelier, the greenery of the plush Persian rug racing up the grand staircase, the egg-and-dart moldings at the tops of the sea-foam columns, the natural light pouring in from the open second story walkway, A's beautiful, expressive smile—
She had been twisting her gloved hands during her review of the interior, the grandest building she had ever set foot in without the intention of burgling it. Jane might just have to take something for the sake of it. A trinket to remember the adventure.
Depends if this is an adventure worth remembering.
"Come along, Jane. You're drooling," A said, beckoning her with an outstretched hand toward the staircase. It felt almost habitual when Jane slipped her hand into A's, as if they had performed the exercise countless times before. Yet the action of A dragging a stupefied Jane higher into the hotel was striking; striking in its novelty, in its unfamiliarity, but likewise in its thrilling comfort. It seemed the most natural course of action, and Jane reveled in it. To have something so natural make her so happy nearly made up for her... unnaturalness.
Her hand was tingling in A's grip and it had nothing to do with electricity.
"Ta-da!" A said, pushing open a pair of double doors that brushed a fourteen-foot ceiling. She squealed and skipped inside, pulling Jane along like a weightless balloon.
For someone who didn't climb buildings, she was strong.
"Off, off, off, off!" A yelled.
"What?"
"Take them off!"
A stripped herself of her jacket, bent over in front of Jane, and began to untie her shoes.
"Come on, hurry up!"
"There seems to be a misunderstanding happening here," Jane said, tentatively reaching for the hem of her shirt. "Do you mean—"
"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" A shrieked, arms extended and slip-sliding over the marble on sock-footed feet.
Not quite where I thought she was going, but sure. Why not?
Jane removed her sneakers and bent at the knees, prepping for a running start.
"C'mon, I'll catch you!" A said, arms outstretched at the other end of the room.
"Not if I knock your skull open on the floor first."
"You're thin as a reed. I'd like to see you knock anything over with that svelte little frame of yours."
"Oh, svelte? Have you looked at yourself? You'd blow away if I wasn't here to keep you earthbound," Jane smiled at the retort.
"Then looks like I can't get rid of you," A challenged, making a 'bring it on' motion with her hands. "I just don't think you got what it takes."
"A dare?"
"Positively."
"Then I accept. Prepare yourself."
"Ready when you are, sister!"
Jane started running, tripping as her foot slid out behind her. She recovered elegantly, but didn't jump into a slide until she was but a few feet from A. And as predicted, she smacked into her with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. But A held fast, giggling as they spun and attempted to regain their balance on the butter-yellow floor, socks slipping and elbows nudging and laughs bubbling.
Jane kept chuckling too, tugging onto A's braid in another one of those foreign-yet-familiar gestures that kept happening between the pair. When they righted themselves, they didn't release each other. Again, it seemed… natural.
"And why did you spring for a room as stately as this?"
"It's the Royal Suite," A said, throwing an arm out in a grand gesture. "Fit for an Ice Queen."
"And silly me, I left my tiara in New York."
A's jaw dropped. "Was that… humor I just heard?"
"Me? No, you must be mistaken."
"God, you're adorable. Droll and dry, but adorable."
"It's been rubbing off on me. I can't seem to stop it," Jane quipped, squeezing A's elbow affectionately.
"How 'bout we raid the minibar? Little celebratory bubbly for successfully crossing the ocean!"
"No, thank you," Jane said. "I'm quite happy, right here."
Did I just pull her closer?
"I love this. I wish it could be like this all the time," A said, softening into the loose hold.
"Me, too," Jane said. "Maybe… it can? I mean, I never thought about taking on a partner or anything, but—"
"We wouldn't necessarily have to stop working together after we figure out what Hans is up to."
"And if we get our money back, we can do what we planned. Just retire out of this."
"You really want to retire from this?" A asked, head twirling around to soak up the ambiance of the ritzy suite. A took in the room, but Jane stared at A. Rooms and humans were incomparable. Especially a human like A.
"We'll take plenty of vacations," Jane said.
"And have lots of adventures," A agreed.
"And watch numerous movies."
"And eat pounds of chocolate!"
"And—"
"And—"
Ring ring!
The phone broke their idyllic spell. A screwed her face up and released Jane, holding a finger up in a 'one-moment' gesture that indicated the conversation had not stopped, merely paused.
"It's probably just the front desk, want to see about a wake-up call or something…" A said, picking up the receiver. "Hallo?"
There was chatter on the other end of the line, and A's face fell. "Meneer Frollo, ik wilde je bellen—"
Jane caught one word: Frollo. They had been in the city less than an hour and he already knew they were there? And where they were staying, as well as the room number?
Unnerving at least, with the potential to be horrifying, depending on how this conversation goes. Perhaps he is too well-connected.
Jane walked to the window while A spoke on the phone, the canal below them drifting lazily by. It was odd, knowing that only a few miles away women stood in doors and windows, backlit in red, trading their bodies for money. In the brightness of the Amsterdam spring, with house boats and grand suites and an enchanting roommate, the red light district seemed leagues away.
I wish it could be like this all the time… but it can't. Too many bad things in a bad world.
She heard A approach from behind but didn't turn toward her. There was the sound of a body hitting fabric, and Jane assumed A had fallen onto the floral patterned settee in the living area.
"The verdict?"
"Guilty," A responded.
"Of what charges?"
"Entering the city limits without alerting him to my presence, walking out on an unpaid tab from three fuckin' years ago, attempting to locate Hans—"
"Why is the last one a crime?" Jane asked.
"He gave me the impression that there was an alliance forged," A explained. "But that he was willing to pull a double cross if I came in to negotiate."
"What do you think he wants?"
"Oh, I know what he wants," A said, sighing into a pillow.
The mood from earlier had plummeted, replaced with a leaden feeling that nestled somewhere in the hollows of Jane's chest cavity, burrowed its way into her aortas and ventricles. Constricted them. Squeezed. A heart hurting hard.
"He wants a special performance, for some of his higher-end clientele," A said.
"And he just expects you to come and—"
"Something like that. He thinks I've been in Japan, working as a Madame of sorts."
"You're only eighteen!"
"Almost nineteen. Which is plenty old enough to oversee other girls. And he doesn't know that."
"Hans didn't blow your cover?"
"I suppose not. My guess is he's not been in actual contact with Frollo. Just sending messages, letting him know he's been in Amsterdam."
"Aside from his nostalgia for the city, what else brought Hans to Amsterdam?" Jane asked.
The million dollar question.
"Aside from the easy lays? That's what we've got to go and find out. As I said, I think he and Frollo might be brokering some sort of deal. But Frollo's never been one to stick to his word."
"So how do you know he'll make good on what he promises you?"
"It's a lot harder to deny a scantily clad woman standing in front of you than a douche bag who sends obnoxious, threatening e-mails."
"I was once a douche bag who sent obnoxious, threatening emails," Jane said.
"But at least you did it with style," A tried a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her nostrils didn't flare.
She's unhappy… not scared, just… crestfallen. She thought she'd never have to do this again.
"I'll come with you," Jane said.
"I'd rather you didn't."
"But I could help."
"Jane, I say this with as much care as I can muster, but I don't want you in negotiations with me. You would only be a liability."
"But I'm your weapon, remember? See?"
Lights flickered on and off, but no bulbs were burst in the surge.
"What changed between the cockpit and here? I thought I was... I'm getting better," Jane mumbled.
"I know. I'm proud!" A said. "But, believe me, it's better for you this way. I turn into someone that I don't want you to see."
"I like to think I know the real you."
"You do," A said.
A's assurance.
A for 'authentic'.
"Then why won't you let me help you?" Jane asked.
"Because I hope the real you can trust the real me to do her job. You may accompany me for as long as you can keep out of sight, but I don't want Frollo knowing you're here. He will- he could... It would only end badly for you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Jane answered, hanging her head.
"C'mon," A whispered, tilting her chin up, the two framed in the window over the canal. "Let's go catch a few zzz's before we make any back-alley deals. Don't tell me flying across the Atlantic didn't take it out of you."
She led Jane to her very own room, which included: elevated half-canopy bed with draped lavender curtains, sumptuous silver sheets, and down pillows for miles. A nudged her in easily, squeezed her hand, and left her to her thoughts.
Jane preferred sleep.
"You mean it's like this, even during the day?" Jane asked.
She and A were walking through De Wallen, the infamous red-light district of Amsterdam. Stone buildings with red shutters and crimson doorways sprouted like organic fungi amid the canals, backlit windows dressed with mannequins… and humans.
Male, female, androgynous. Bikini or boxer clad, corseted, kinky thigh-high boots with leather crops and whips and more exotic switches, beckoning passersby to come in for the sexual experience of a lifetime. A horde of English college students rocketed past, taking pictures at the windows and pointing out particularly tantalizing options. Another group of middle-aged tourists passed by more slowly, fanny packs, disposable cameras and Amsterdam tourism maps open and on display like medals of pride. They stopped and asked A to take their picture around the Belle, the first statue erected in honor of sex workers worldwide. A bronze cast of a woman in an open doorframe, the inscription read, "Respect sex workers all over the world." Jane tried for respect, but fell short at pity. Prostitution was legal, but starkly alien to Jane's already withering moral compass. She could not harden her heart so, could not dissociate after what she had been through during her first sexual experience.
In short, she was simply not brave enough.
They made their way through the bulk of De Wallen, cobblestoned streets funneling down into an alley way that bottomed out at an austere building, architecturally complex and playing at sacrosanctity. Gargoyles hung off precipices, demonic guardians quietly considering all approachers. The wooden and ironed double doors looked impenetrable.
"Just try to avoid detection," A said. "I can't believe I even let you walk up here with me. He's probably got cameras in the eyes of those statues."
"I think I would have sensed them."
"You can 'sense' them as well?"
"Somewhat. Not really. I mean, no, not like a sixth sense—"
"Which we'll be watching at Halloween—"
"What? No, I can just… tell. Sometimes, when gadgets are present. And speaking of gadgets…" Jane dug her hand into the pocket of her skirt, and out came a pair of EPs.
"Are these really necessary?" A asked, sliding the nude plastic into her ear despite the protest.
"Consider it a safeguard. You can call for me if you're ever uncomfortable."
"Because you exude such comfort with your standoffish demeanor and dry-come-surly humor?" A teased.
"Please be careful," Jane did not rise to the bait. "Just… please."
"Never," A said, echoing Jane's New York sentiment. "Wait for me at the corner, just there. I'll do what I can."
A shouldered open the double doors of the establishment. Jane's last view of A was the curvature of her shoulder blades in a backless black dress and the dip of her Achilles tendon, offset by a pair of spiked scarlet high heels. Her footsteps echoed off the stone floor inside until the wooden door slammed shut, sealing Jane off from her only friend in the world.
That is, until she saw A wide-eyed and worried, looking down with a 'what the hell did you do?' face, as Jane was forced to her knees in front of a mahogany desk.
"Found this one lurking around outside of your office, Judge," a guard said, forcing Jane down.
"What now, a little white dove, taking refuge in the rafters where she doesn't belong?"
Judge Claude Frollo Debauche and his working quarters reeked of an undeserved and pretentious dignity. He rose, slowly, in a tailored grey suit from behind his desk. The office was lined with books from ceiling to floor, a pot of tea with saucers and cups rattling on a wheeled service tray between his desk and wing-backed guest chair. There were no windows, but a portrait of himself behind his own leather seat, as if he wanted his subjects to be met with double the number of judging eyes whenever in his presence. His chin and nose were long and sharp as cleavers, his cheeks sunken and eyes yellowing from what might have been a cocaine or methamphetamine addiction. In his high-collared suit and slim purple tie he looked every bit as intimidating as A had described. What pushed it to the limit of villainy was his self-righteous sneer, and the King James Bible perched accusingly atop his desk.
He moved calmly toward Jane with his hands linked together over his stomach.
"Rise, fool girl."
Jane's gaze held fast, though her nerves were leaking through her jittery knees. Frollo circled her, predatory, eyed her up and down and wrapped clammy, spindly fingers around her bicep. She tried to shirk away, but he yanked her closer.
"Some life in this one," Frollo nearly drooled into her ear, and it took all of Jane's willpower not to wretch. "Blonde and pale… we have a bit of surplus on the blondes. But we could chop that off, dye it black, turn you into a rough little fighter—"
"Judge Frollo," A had risen from the winged-back guest chair and was now sitting atop the front of his desk seductively, left knee hitched over her right and red heels popping against sheer black panty hose.
"Madame…" he replied, and stuck his long, sinister nose into Jane's hair. He inhaled, and Jane forced her eyes shut. "So sorry to interrupt our meeting, Madame Rose, but I have a special place to put beautiful intruders. Please excuse me while I deal with—"
"My surprise for you?" A answered, voice velvety and low. Maybe a tinge of a French accent. She rose from the desk and sauntered to the pair, face stern, implacable. She hummed when she was mere inches from Jane and licked her glossed lips.
"A brief demonstrazion, for your pleazure, Judge," A whispered to him.
Frollo's brow attempted to crawl off his head, but he stepped back, curious.
"Say nothing and don't resist me," A whispered, and lifted Jane's chin dramatically with her forefinger. Their gazes didn't break and A ran the finger between Jane's eyes, down the bridge of her nose, and traced her lips.
Jane stood cautiously in her skirt, dark tights ripped and ruined from her climb up the exterior brick of the building; her blouse was tousled, damp, and missing a button from one particularly tight widow frame she had attempted to squeeze through. When A had left her outside, it took only seconds for Jane to realize the EPs were having trouble picking up any sound on her short-wave frequency. Jane needed to get in the building, and had only just begun to distinguish the familiar hum of A's voice from the static when two men were on her, tossing her unceremoniously onto Frollo's office floor.
I'm normally much more aware, but I had to hear her…
Liability.
"You told me eet would take quite ze exchange for you to, what was eet? Squeal on our dear Hans," A said, dragging her right hand over Jane's hip as she walked behind her. "I told you I 'ad been learning somzing new, while in Japan, Judge Frollo." A's left hand started at the back of Jane's left shoulder and then slid treacherously down her arm, until her fingers were wrapped tightly in Jane's own. A lifted their joined arms skyward as Frollo leaned back on his desk, observing the whole affair.
"I… suppose you could say, recruited some help, for my more elaborate performances. Lily 'ere was supposed to wait until I called for her, but she's just so, mmm, curious."
A ran her nose and mouth down Jane's extended left arm and paused at her shoulder, inhaling deeply, and then pursed her lips against the covered skin at the juncture.
"Mmm, ma fille préférée," A whispered, yet loud enough for the judge to hear.
Frollo seemed intrigued.
Jane was… overheated. With A pressed so intimately upon her, every nudge, every blink, every exhale became erotic. But Frollo's presence made the entire affair unwholesome and foul. Arousal and disgust battled intensely.
"My surprize, my… agreement," A continued. "A one-night-only show for your more sophisticated clientele. Wiz my partner 'ere," at that, she tilted Jane's head sideways to expose her neck, and placed a kiss on her jugular. Jane felt A's steamy tongue slide over her pulse point and instinctively tilted her neck back further, until A spoke again. "Madame Rose and Lily, at your disposal, Judge Frollo."
Jane couldn't watch Frollo any more, her eyes closing against her will. A's voice pirouetted and puffed over her saliva-slick neck. If Jane was supposed to be acting like a professional, her cover was blown. She was enjoying this far too much.
"Have you two ladies been working together…long? I only accept the highest level of professionalism," Frollo stated, though the bulge in his pants seemed to betray his doubts for the pairing.
"Just celebrated our four month annivezary," A purred.
Jane felt A smile into her skin, for the number was accurate, since their first meeting. A maneuvered their twined left arms and draped them over her own freckle-speckled shoulder, urging Jane's head back to rest securely in the crook at the right side of her neck. She forced Jane's fingers into the fine hairs of her messy updo at the base of her skull, intent for Jane to keep her hand there. A's own hand slithered downward, a serpent intent on wrapping itself around its prey, suffocating any pure thoughts in the brain by redirecting the blood flow toward the genitalia. A's fingers splayed over Jane's abdomen and she rocked Jane in her arms flirtatiously, more than likely focused on Frollo. Jane didn't care. Had the situation not been dangerous as hell, the blonde would have been content to remain in the position for eternity.
"And the title of your show?" Frollo asked.
"Title?" A said, clearly caught off-guard.
"For advertising purposes, you understand. Should any of my more exotic bidders wish for a premium place in the audience."
"Sun," Jane managed, though A's skin probably absorbed the sound.
"What was that? Speak up, girl," Frollo said.
Jane's head snapped forward, eyes boring into Frollo's jaundiced pupils because he had soiled her friend.
"I'm no girl, Judge Frollo," Jane seethed, tightening A's arms around her waist.
If I'm squeezed to death, I hope it's in this embrace.
"I'm the moon. And my Madame is the sun." Jane felt bolder, braver, A's presence just the jolt she never knew she needed. Her left hand abandoned the curls at the base of A's neck in lieu of caressing A's face, running a gloved finger along a rounded cheek. Jane couldn't see her, but felt A tense against her back. The copper-headed woman soon melted, like the first shocking bite of snow cone meeting an earnest, hot mouth. "And together, we are two celestial bodies that should never be joined, in constant opposition. We nonetheless control the movements of the Earth. Print that on your advertisements."
"A narrative for the ages. I would have expected nothing less from you, Madame." Frollo turned back to his desk, a sign that the audition had ended. A released Jane from her grip and the blonde stepped aside reluctantly, body bereft of A's arms and thus depleted of all confidence.
"You'll be in Utopia for the performance tonight. I trust you remember the location?" Frollo asked, thin tongue wetting the end of a feathered quill, for fuck's sake.
I can think of a few locations to bury that quill—
"I recall," A replied.
"Will you be needing any production supplements?"
A turned to Jane, face placid while simultaneously suppressing a thousand apologies. Like she was the one that had gotten them into this mess. It was really Jane's fault, and now they were going to have to perform, all because Jane was so intent on finding Hans, because she wanted… needed that damn information.
I suppose I can swallow whatever remaining pride I have and take one for the proverbial team. This is my responsibility, my fault, for being apprehended.
"A pole," Jane said.
Again, A tensed, imperceptible save for Jane. Perhaps Jane was more attuned to A's body, a symptom of close quarters and intent study.
"That, you shall have," Frollo said, his threatening baritone bouncing off the paneled walls and Gothic furnishings. "Perform as you promise, and I'll do my best to locate Mr. Westerguard for you ladies. He may not be a difficult man to find, but he is not easily caught. Unless you offer a private performance."
Neither A nor Jane spoke, Jane rather astounded that she hadn't been shackled and hauled away at gunpoint and forced onto a semen-stained mattress. On the list of possible outcomes for the meeting, A openly groping and kissing her ranked far below gun pointed escort.
"Dismissed," Frollo said, bored yet calculating.
A inclined her head forward then turned, briskly bypassing two large guards who ogled the two women, tongues wagging like salivating dogs.
"Don't speak," A ordered, as she led Jane out of Frollo's headquarters.
They were out of De Wallen before A could even look at her.
"I told you to stay out of sight!" A shouted.
"I'm— I'm sorry."
"Sorry's not going to keep you from getting up on a stage in less than… hell, ten hours!"
"I couldn't hear you, the EP frequency was—"
"I don't care about the ear pieces, Jane. You should have listened to me!"
"And what? Left you to fend for yourself alone? Up there, doing… things?"
"Stripping, Jane? We're big girls, here," A huffed, running her hands over her face. "I'm not angry at you, I'm sorry," A said evenly. "I'm just… angry at the situation. I was trying to spare you all of this. And then in there, I just said the first thing that came to me—"
"That we were partners?"
"Well, we kind of are. Nearly all lies have a kernel of truth to them. But now you've gone and gotten yourself into it, too. They're expecting—" A placed a hand to her head, rubbed her temples and let her hands slide over her round cheeks, astounded at the horror. "They're going to expect some depraved sex show, Jane."
"That's not, well… I mean, I think I have an idea so we won't have to… uhm, to, well—"
"There's no way around not stripping, Jane. That's sort of in the burlesque credo."
"No, just, remember what I said? About the sun, and, and the moon?"
"Yeah, what was that?" A asked, clacking along the canal walkway.
The window boxes were in full bloom, purples and pinks winking at the women as they strolled and spoke of sex. The air was thick with pollen. Even the plants were thinking about coupling.
"Because the sun and the moon are opposites, but also sort of mirrors. I can get some of my ropes, use the pole, you can stay grounded, and we would never have to… actually… touch. Not until the end, and by then, the show will be over. Nothing... prolonged."
"Now you're a sexy closeted circus performer? Jane, this isn't something we can throw together. These men pay in the thousands to see top-notch exotic eroticism, not some amateur aerialist playing at stripteases."
"Then I won't play. And I'd hardly call myself an amateur."
"Stripper, or aerialist?" A returned, cutting. She brought her left arm up around her chest and propped her right on her left fist, biting the knuckles of the opposite hand in frustration. "We can call this whole thing off right now. Leave the country, go back to New York. Or Louisiana. You and I don't have to do any of this," A insisted, halting under a shaded tree along the river walk. "It all depends on how badly you want the information."
This? I never wanted this. But the chance to relearn my history, a chance to find out who I really am… I've never wanted anything else.
"I need to know what information Hans has about my background," Jane said.
"Fine. Then we better get to work."
"I never intended for you to have to do this, you know. I think we've reached the terminal for reciprocity. I will forever, as they say, 'owe you one'."
"You don't owe me anything," A sighed, sincere. "If getting that information from Hans will make you happy, then I'll do it. No more doing things out of some twisted sense of obligation. From here on out, everything I do with you I do because I wish to do it. I will not be compelled, and I will refuse any request that I deem outrageous. But know that I want to help you, and I probably always will."
"I… thank you," Jane said.
Resuming their walk, they strategized back to their suite at the Amstel Amsterdam. After a brief detour to a costume shop and a hardware store, the girls returned to De Wallen just an hour shy of midnight. It was nearly showtime again, so the girls waltzed right into Club Utopia, hoping beyond hope that it was not, instead, hell on earth.
Well, that escalated quickly. Dare I ask for... thoughts? And, if it wasn't already quite obvious, I don't speak French. And writing in accented dialect is difficult. Might not be doing that again. Also, this isn't a slight or anything to Amsterdam. I'll be the first to say that all of my info comes from Google, so I don't mean to offend any European readers. Thanks, as always!