I don't own Frozen. Also, I published two chapters at once this time, so make sure you go back and read the previous one!
As entertaining as the two boys were, Anna needed to get back to the hotel and call Jane. It took her longer than anticipated. The sun dared to show itself while Anna had been in the exhibition hall. And it was like shining a flashlight on an upturned brick at night, hundreds of crawly critters scurrying under the light beam. Instead of critters, the nooks and crannies of Edinburgh hid people. Tons of them. All congested, teeming, because the sun was out. The fickle weather and resulting pedestrian influx made it difficult for Anna to navigate sidewalks and locate street signs in order to get back to the hotel. She had forgotten Edinburgh was a city, and that city life could be detrimentally bustling. After a half hour trek through crowds and exploding science experiments, Anna shoved the key in the slot and flung herself into the hotel room. She typed in Jane's number with wet fingers, only to be met with a ringing noise from the other side of the room.
Looks like I'm not the only one who leaves their phone behind.
She crossed the room to Jane's black duffel, and started rummaging through it. Mints, some funky coin, rope, beanie, ah, there's that phone. She flicked the side switch to put the device on silent. Anna pulled an old wallet out to better rifle through the bag, all these little items blocking her view.
Maybe she's got a tablet or a laptop in here and I can look into Hans trying to make nice with those guys from the brewery—
"What are you doing?" Jane asked, head cocked in her studious default position.
"Jane!" Anna said, turning brightly. Her cranky mood had sailed, what with venturing out and finding another piece of the Hans puzzle. "I was looking for a laptop, but now you're here, so I can—"
"Give me that," Jane said, eyes on the wallet. "Please." Though it wasn't a polite request.
"Wha— oh, yeah, sure," Anna said, handing the leather piece over to Jane. She opened the billfold and studied it, ran shaking fingers over the outside before tucking the thing into her back pocket.
"I know this is not in your nature, nor mine, but don't go through my bag."
"Oh, no, Jane, I wasn't— you see, I was trying to call you, and you didn't take your phone, and it was just ringing—"
"And you couldn't have ended the call on your own device?" Jane questioned.
"No. I mean, yes, but that's not what I was doing."
"You weren't trying to call me?"
"No, I was, I mean… yes, but I wasn't looking in your bag for your phone."
"But you were looking in my bag?" Jane said, hard.
"I wasn't snooping," Anna said, suddenly indignant. Jane's tone was jagged and accusing.
"I was just looking for a laptop," Anna continued, refusing to get angry when Jane was still grumpy. "I take it you didn't have much luck this afternoon."
"Not a speck of activity," Jane said.
Anna smiled, teeth shiny, expression deranged like that of the Cheshire cat. "I bet I know why," she said.
"Oh really? You do?"
"Maybe because I saw Hans today."
"Wait, what?" Jane asked, grumpiness replaced by intensity. "Where was he? What was he doing? Did you find where he was staying?"
Anna relayed the events at the science exhibition, her conversation with James and Colin, her failed attempt at following Hans.
"But even while he was giving me the slip, I realized we have no way to make him answer our questions," Anna explained. "We'd have to corner him, or chain him up or something. And I've done my fair share of tours about Europe, but this is his playground. He knows these cities better than I do. We can't just pop into any old hotel and hope they have an interrogation room ready to use."
"Then what do you suggest?" Jane asked.
"I don't know. I'm just pointing out that we've gone into this thing a little half-cocked, wouldn't you say?"
"I had hoped I could just take what I needed from him. Something tangible, like files, or documents. I never considered I might have to negotiate with him for information. I'm not very good at that," Jane confessed.
"Even if you did take the physical files, we'd have to find them first," Anna said. "He wouldn't just keep random info on a rival in his back pocket, you know? He's probably got cabinets full of information on every known criminal with international ties. He's arguably better connected than Frollo. And more ruthless than Ursula."
"Well that certainly makes things more… complicated," Jane answered. "But what I don't understand is why he's looking into the beer-brewing process."
"He was asking about stock, moreso than the actual process. And shipping to the States. Combine that with the girls from Amsterdam, and I think he's hosting some sort of event," Anna said.
"What, like a party?"
"Party, showcase, investment pitch, exotic dinner where you eat sushi off of nude bodies—"
"What the—"
"In any case—," Anna continued, "—we still know next to nothing about his plans. Only that he needs girls and beer."
"Do you think it has anything to do with the money he diverted from our accounts? Like he needed that 350 million to… I'm not sure. To get something started?"
"That's a good theory," Anna said.
Jane's brow furrowed further. She was gnawing at the inside of her cheek, and her arms were crossed back over her torso. Anna crossed the room to sit next to her on the stiff sofa cushion, but Jane didn't open up to receive her. Her body language had been closed off ever since Amsterdam, and Anna wanted to remedy that.
She turned into Jane and caught a whiff of mint, the girl grinding away on a TicTac instead of her jaw as Anna had previously thought.
"What's up with you and mints?" Anna said suddenly. "You've got like, half a dozen little clackity-clack boxes in your duffel."
Jane contemplated the linoleum, blank-faced.
"I just mean, not exactly easy to avoid detection if they're rattling away in your bag of tricks," Anna said, keeping the conversation afloat.
"Halitosis?"
"Don't lie to me. Your breath is fresher than clean laundry in the mornings," Anna said.
Jane's inexpressive lips quirked upwards, then fell again, and her left hand started working it way over the knuckles of her right. Her head flopped back on the couch, and she released a determined breath. The blonde stood and walked toward her bag, body language a mixture of defeat and forbearance. She seemed rough and pebbly, her internal struggles a painful whetstone throwing sparks and sharpening something she had let dull over time. Anna felt apprehensive in her presence.
"Not that I know what your breath smells like…" Anna redacted. "Well, I mean, I do, from that ki— but, I mean, I said that was water under the bridge, with Club Utopia and everything, I only meant that since we've been sleeping together— not sleeping together, just that when I wake up, it doesn't smell. Right. No… not that it doesn't smell right, it just isn't smelly. Lack of odor. Scentless. Nice, but not… weird nice. What was my question again?"
Jane returned with a box of Altoids and one of the funky coins Anna had seen in the bag.
"When was the first time you noticed the mints?" she asked.
Anna had to think. It had been a while, but it wasn't like she associated the mints with anything significant. It was minor detail, merely an aftershock of an earthquake named Jane; secondary, not nearly as extreme as the first crippling wave.
"Maybe on St. John? The night when we talked on the swing at Hans' cabana."
"The night we got into a— what was the term Hans used? Bitch fight?"
"Yeah, sorry about that," Anna said. "I didn't know you then."
"And you think you know me now?"
"Well, not everything," Anna conceded. The admission dredged sadness up from the pits of her belly, mood gone from sunny hope to blues.
You 'think' you know me. As if truly knowing someone was impossible. I know what I need to know to stay with you.
"Hans didn't get anywhere with the Irish boys, according to you. But he doesn't seem like the type to leave a job incomplete. I think we should go to local breweries and find out more," Jane said. " See if he's inquired with the local companies. We'll discover more specifics, hopefully."
Okay, not the direction I thought you were going…
"With that in mind, there's something you should know about me."
"Alright, shoot," Anna said, settling back on the arm of the couch.
"I— that is," Jane licked her lips and closed her palm over the bronze coin in her hand. "I'm an alcoholic."
"You… you're a— wait, what?" Anna said.
"I'm an alcoholic," Jane repeated, and then… giggled.
"Wha—what's so funny about that?" Anna asked, straightening up from her position. Worry bolstered by her previous sadness gave way to confusion, and Anna was damn near tired of all these negative emotions stomping all over her happy and productive day. And then Jane goes and starts laughing about a debilitating condition, and it's all Anna can do not to slap her across the face.
"I've just, never said it out loud," Jane said. "I thought it would be good of you to know if I get a little tense when we walk into any bars or breweries, and decent Scotch is strong, weighs in at about forty percent alcohol. The smell still puts me on edge, sometimes."
"But, but… I don't understand."
"How many times have you offered me a drink?" Jane asked. "And how many times have I accepted one?"
"I know I've offered a few times. No wine at the cabana, no mint juleps in Louisiana, no champagne in Amsterdam… never to the latter question, now that I come to think of it."
"I started sucking on mints to hide the booze on my breath," Jane said. "Got rid of one habit, but I couldn't kick the other," she said, jostling the box of Altoids. "You know how they say be careful not to eat too much when you go off cigarettes? Replace one addiction with another? I capitulated to the lesser of two evils."
"And you're always cool and minty fresh," Anna said sardonically.
"That I am."
"You want to put yourself in a situation like that? Isn't it better to keep it, I don't know… out of sight, out of mind?" Anna asked.
"It's worth it if we can get the upper hand on Hans," Jane said, palm unclenching.
"What's that, then? Sacajawea coin?"
"No… St. Monica."
"So you're… religious?" Anna asked, not knowing at all how she was feeling.
"Not really, I just— I, I know I'm fallible. And there's something bigger than me. I don't know what, but… I wouldn't have powers if there wasn't, right? Magic, or fate, or... something. That's not a good explanation, but I don't have a better one."
"I won't begrudge you your totems. Mints and cameos," Anna said. "There are worse things."
"Things have been… off," Jane said, finally turning toward Anna. "With us, I mean. Though we are… it's still working, but there are kinks. You feel it too, don't you?"
"Yes."
"I don't know why I feel this way."
"How do you feel?" Anna dared to ask.
"Unsettled. Spasmodic. Like just now, I wanted to scream at you for going through my bag. No one has ever touched my things."
"I'm sorry, I know better now."
"But that's just it, I didn't… I mean, it was alright because—I…" Jane exhaled heavily. "Fuck, I'm usually so direct. But you screwed that up, too."
"I'm not going to apologize for that one," Anna said sedately. "Most of this seems to be coming from you. I'm really trying here, Jane."
"I know. And the fact that you're still here, that you are trying, that's what I'm having trouble negotiating. No one's… no one's ever tried so hard with me."
"So, it's new! Friendship, or... whatever we have, it's scary."
Though Anna knew that 'friendship' was no longer an appropriate term. She could never rush Jane, even if the seeds of something more had already been sown. She could only tend, guide, and support the germination. And hopefully, with just a little more time, something hardy and beautiful would breach the topsoil, and Anna's patience would be rewarded.
"That's not what— forget it, I'll never be able to articulate it properly," Jane sighed. "I just… I opened myself up once before, and it didn't end well."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Not… now. But maybe later."
"That's fine. I'm not asking to see all the skeletons in your closet. And you have a pretty small closet, if your wardrobe prior to my interference was any indication. What more can be in there besides alcoholism and electric powers?"
"If only you knew."
"Well, whatever it is, it won't matter to me. You're no plain Jane, certainly. You're daring and brave and smart and you have such a big heart. You stayed away from the world to protect it from yourself. I don't think I would have been strong enough to do that."
That's why I'm in love with you.
"You're the strongest person I know," Jane said.
"Really? In your social circle comprising a whole, what? Five individuals?" Anna dripped sarcasm. "But I think that, you made the braver choice. Sober people have these tough hearts, because you see the world for what it is. You don't drink to cope anymore. That's admirable, and noble, if a little self-righteous. There's been a few instances when I couldn't take reality—I'm such a softie— so I escaped through a bottle. It's… I don't know. It makes me not feel."
"I sympathize," the blonde said.
Jane squirmed about on the couch and retrieved the wallet from her back pocket. She looked from it to Anna, and then timidly reached out. Her gloved hand came to rest over Anna's denim-covered calf. An innocent gesture evolved into something deeper, on the verge of intimacy. Coupled with the events of the past week, Anna dared to hope.
"This is… my biggest skeleton," Jane said, shaking the wallet gently. "I sobered up because of this. This was character defining, an overriding instance that influenced all future decisions. It was the first domino, and the others have all fallen into pattern because of this. And I want to tell you about it. I want to tell you so badly…"
"You can, Jane. You can tell me."
"I want to, I do, but not until I can figure out what this is that's happening to me. How I feel, when I'm around you. It's intimidating, alarming. I feel so… exposed. And this has nothing to do with the, uhm, striptease. It's mystifying, how you disarm me so."
"Jane, I…"
"I want… I don't know."
You. I want you, so badly it hurts, Jane. What you're saying, I feel it, too. But what you're saying also corresponds to passionate hatred and irrational fear. And I don't think I could live with myself if you were ever afraid of me.
Anna's eyes had more water pressure behind them than the Hoover Dam. She wanted nothing more than to weep for Jane, with Jane, and to kiss her confusion away. To tell her this, this is what you're feeling, you just can't put a name to it yet.
But I've been feeling it, too. And it's alright, Jane. I promise. We're kismet and this is acceptable. This is how you fall in love, right?
Right?
"Well," Anna sniffled. "When you decide what it is, whatever it is in its most genuine form, and you wish to share, I will be right here," Anna said, and placed a palm over her own chest. Her other hand went down to slide over Jane's, still resting securely on her calf. And, because she could no longer deny her hope, she kissed Jane on the cheek.
Jane nodded tersely. There was a tear track sliding down the curve of her nose; she touched it with a fingertip, alarmed, as if she hadn't noticed she'd been crying. Because crying wasn't something electric robots did. Crying was uniquely human: one needs possess a soul to cry. And Jane, with a little prodding on Anna's part, was discovering hers.
"For now, we focus on Hans. Finding him. Getting as much information about his venture as we can, even if we can't speak to him directly," Anna said. "We will go to breweries tomorrow, and see what we can uncover, yes?"
Another nod.
"And," Anna said, bounding up, "if my stomach doth not deceive me, it is time for dinner."
"Some tough meat in heavy gravy again," Jane said, swiping at the liquid stain over her cheekbone. When she looked up at Anna and smiled, she was seeking repentance. Anna had already forgiven her all her faults, including future ones.
Unconditionally.
"If you jimmy the lock to the back kitchen, I can whip us up some grilled cheeses," Anna offered.
"Do you think the staff will catch us?"
They both burst into guffawing fits. When had they ever worried themselves with hotel security?
The last two chapters were originally this one huge hulking thing, but tone/plot/characterization clashed so much I couldn't see fit to leave it all in one, thus the split. This was also sort of hastily edited, so apologies for grammar mistakes and typos. I always love feedback, especially constructive criticism. Shout out to crunchy because I couldn't pm him/her a thanks for the last chapter. Thanks for reading, and have a great weekend all.