I don't own Frozen.

Anna tromped out of the opera house in her evening wear, ears still ringing from an off-tempo Soubrette who seemed to be just as distracted as Anna was. The doorman moved to help her with her wrap and Anna recoiled violently, giving herself and the kindly mustached gentleman a fright.

It had been a tense twenty-four hours.

"Jane?" Anna spoke to the sidewalk.

There was static through the EP, irritating as squeaky Styrofoam. Jane had warned her of that, but they needed to be in range, and Anna was early for their agreed-upon rendezvous time.

Anna hitched a brisk left around a Manhattan corner, ducking into a swanky post-show bar to wait it out. She ordered a martini to calm herself, spearing the olive with the provided toothpick in bouts of frustration. News tickers strolled across the bottom of a flat screen above the sleek liquor selection. Traffic congestion. Murder on the west side. Some genetics company found a way to splice a gene previously unspliceable. Inspectors discovered listeria in cantaloupe at a supermarket in Ohio. A nonagenarian just completed his first marathon. Life, in all its banality and wonder, marching right along.

But not theirs.

Hopefully Jane's search would return better results.

"A?" The earpiece crackled to life, waves of sound tunneling deep into her ear, niggling the cochlea.

Anna downed the rest of her martini and slipped outside while the bartender was otherwise occupied. Running out on a ten dollar cocktail was the least of her worries tonight.

"Jane? I'm here."

Anna heard light panting through the miniscule speaker.

"I'm a few buildings away. Any luck on your end?" Jane asked.

"None. What about you?"

"Good and bad. But the space was not compromised."

Jane paused, and Anna imagined her vaulting a skyscraper gap, landing in a roll over her shoulder and continuing on her run like a spy out of an action flick.

"I'll tell you once I see you. I don't trust the short wave frequencies anymore. I fear all of out data has been hijacked."

Anna continued along the uneven sidewalk, snagging a heel in a crack more from anxiety than inexperience. She'd walked these streets in pointier, higher heeled pumps than the ones she currently sported, but the exhaustive night taxed her greatly, slowed her steps so that her feet felt like tortoises ambling through drying cement. And allowing Jane to leave her sight… did not help the matter in the slightest.

She turned into an alley, steam hissing out of ground grates like some dreadful film noir movie. All she lacked for a Hitchcock film was bad lighting fixtures and minor music cords, discordant and jarring in the background. The rickety fire escape clapped and banged from stories above, weight on metal. The dumpster blocked her location from casual passersby, but if someone was looking for her… Well, maybe the stench of feral cat piss would be deterrent enough for her to get a head start.

"A?"

Anna looked skyward. Eyes blue as diamond sky were peering down two levels through the bars of the jungle-gym like platform. The rest of Jane's body was obscured by the horizontal metal cylinders of the fire escape. Anna swore to herself in that moment she would die before she saw Jane behind any type of bars. Incarceration was but one of the many fears flitting about in her head, what with knowing next to nothing about the break-in, Hans' plans, and how the two connected. But her greatest fear, now and forever more, would be injury or distress to the woman above her.

"Jane," she said, and breathed a little lighter.

"Take your ear piece out and step on it. We're moving locations," Jane directed, rappelling down the brick face in measured lengths of descent. She looked like a soldier, pushing off with firm legs, landing against the patterned brick only to spring down another few feet. Anna tried to notice the little things, tried to appreciate the details previously overlooked. Because this violation, this desecration of their personal lives had thrown her usually carefree psyche into fits of hysteria. Hans knew her. Taught her. She had no defenses against him, as far as concealment was concerned. He had shown her every trick; she couldn't really hide anymore.

To top it all off, they had been playing defense thus far: tracking but never attacking, following but never confronting. Their only advantage was surprise.

Advantage? Not anymore.

And Jane…

Jane was quite beside herself. All of her systems, saved files, external drives, backup versions, any and all data she had transferred from the beach house: deleted. She had kept one USB on her person, the twisted angel, during their date, because, well, she's Jane. But it didn't contain everything. The pair was lucky to have 60% of the compiled Hansformation, but all of the data collected and organized in the Hamptons had been swiped.

They had absconded from the beach house after a thorough sweep; they were pursued by and subsequently given up on by no less than three highway patrolmen as the Lamborghini flew across Long Island and onto New York state proper. The women took refuge in a by-the-hour motel somewhere close to the Pennsylvania line. Anna had to talk Jane off the proverbial ledge to keep her from driving across Niagara straight through to Mounty country.

"Sweetheart," Anna murmured, tugging Jane close as soon as her feet touched the ground in the alley. The other girl returned the hug, not reluctantly, but with less vigor than hoped for.

"Come on. Best be safe."

They zigzagged back alleys in a stair-step pattern, the grid-like layout of the city both help and hindrance. There were many corners and short street segues, but if someone were to follow the same pattern without doubling back at least twice, their position could be guessed within a three-block radius.

Anna exchanged hurried Spanish with a corner bodega owner who let her into the employee restroom to change out of her evening wear. Jane had remained outside, tight black ensemble not instilling the trust they needed when requesting a favor. Anna slipped her hand into Jane's covered one, and they were off once again, pace faster without the shorter girl bumbling to and fro in gala-appropriate footwear.

They somehow ended up in a coffee shop, college students and other young businessy types sprawled out with textbooks and laptops, finishing up that paper or report that just couldn't wait until morning. Anna nursed her mocha and Jane added a dash of soymilk to cool a double espresso.

"I thought you only drank tea," Anna said.

"This is the hardest stuff I allow myself. And I need something hard right now." She pulled her beanie off and ran her hands through her bangs, succeeding only in mussing the platinum more than it already was. A guy with a Columbia sweatshirt attempted to sit two spots down from them at the windowed bar facing the street, but convulsed slightly when static shock zapped his hand. He cast a dumbfounded glance at the stool, then turned to find a corner couch instead.

Jane sighed.

"Your contact?"

"Nothing," Anna replied. "Hans hasn't approached him. He knows there are investment prospects flooding in and out of the illegal sphere, but he did say Hans has filed paperwork and looked into government loans for 'entrepreneurial projects undetermined'."

"Loans? Why the hell would he need a loan?"

"Beats me," Anna replied. "My other contact had less to give, but a better theory."

"Which is?"

"Thinks it's a front. And I'm inclined to go with that suggestion."

"A front? What do you mean a front?"

"We've been looking at this incorrectly this the whole time," Anna explained. "This is Hans. Hans, we're talking about here. Invites four of the best internationally known criminals into a job just to piss them off by double-crossing them! And all of a sudden we think he's gone legit? No. This casino thing… he's doing it right, but only because there's got to be something bigger behind it. Casino's a red herring. But it's the only fish we've got at the moment."

"And your contact doesn't know what that is, does he?"

"She didn't seem to have any ideas," Anna returned. Her stomach gurgled, onset queasiness from apprehension and sleep loss. Then again, that might have been the mocha mixed with a dry martini. She felt like the olive was lodged in her throat.

"She?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, she's in on the money-market," Anna said dismissively. "Done enough insider trading to make Martha Stewart look like Mother Teresa."

"Her name was Martha?"

"What the— no. Her name wasn't… it doesn't matter."

"Yes… Alright, good." Jane nodded to herself.

"Were you… jealous?" Anna asked, voice dropping to a hysterical whisper.

"No!" Jane matched her tone, albeit a bit more defensive.

"Jane Electricity Doe of the Manhattan Skyscraper! You so totally were!" Anna nudged her arm and the absurdity of the notion split her lips into her first grin of the last twenty-four hours. "Here we are, ready to bolt should somebody even look our way, and you're turning possessive!"

"I felt nothing of the sort, only concern that the information was reliable."

"Traipsing around like rats in a sewer because we think Hans has got some big baddies after us, and you get very interested in my female contacts."

"This is not the time, or the place," Jane admonished.

"Then where and when? I'm going to file this away for the record books."

Jane rolled her eyes, then took a measured sip of her khaki soy-espresso concoction.

"My place was not compromised. They got everything I sent through, but my physical apartment, it was not found. I'm not surprised about that, though. I update the security to that place every month, run system checks every quarter. It was more of a digital invasion."

"Well, good, then," Anna said. She sat back heavily in the chair at the bar, a gawky sort of weightiness released from the lowest quadrants of her lungs. She rotated her neck side to side, cracking a joint, settling, sipping, and sighing. "And honestly, I don't think anyone's after us. I don't feel followed, just… jumpy."

Jane nodded her agreement, and gulped the rest of her espresso.

"He did his job well," Anna continued. "He got the information, and spooked us good. But now that you've checked it out, does that mean we can actually have a normal— well, a place to stay over the next few days while we figure this out?"

"I'm going to overlook the fact that you called my place 'abnormal' if only because I am tired and my nerves are overwrought. And why can't we stay in your warehouse?"

"Hans knows where it is. Just in case someone is following us. God, why am I feeling so paranoid?"

"You've never been broken into before?" Jane offered. "But that's unfortunate. About your warehouse, I mean. I wanted to see your gallery..." Jane caught Anna's eyes, then turned back to the window, pondering her hazy reflection. "Though it's better if I can have access to my home system. Like I said, it wasn't bugged, just my network folder."

Anna rubbed a hand over her face, uncomprehending.

"It's like the Cloud. Or Dropbox. But better," Jane explained. "Or so I thought… no matter. I'll be able to compile everything I have on the spare USB and do some digging, transfer to one of my five-terabyte external drives. Though I still prefer my original idea."

"And you know my stipulation," Anna challenged. "You don't get to break into Hans' office unless I go, too."

"There are guards there, A. I can protect myself, but I don't want anything to happen to you."

"First off, I've made it alright without you there to hold my hand before."

More hostile than Anna intended, but fueled by self-doubt. She continued:

"But what if we find what we need there, what you've been wanting from the start? What if you get all of that information you've been looking for, and then you…" She felt her eyes start to burn, like ash in the creases and the olive still holding fast behind her windpipe. Anna shook her head, jittery.

Sure, let's get all insecure and emotional NOW for some incomprehensible reason.

"What? And then I what, A?"

"What if you find out who you are, and that's all you ever need? You could find your name, your family, and I don't know… go off after them. What am I, then?"

"A—"

"I know that makes zero sense, but the past day has just been really… stupidly stressful, okay?" Anna whispered, invisible ash and embers generating tears at the rims of her lids. "And we've probably been overreacting this entire time! People chasing us, what were we thinking… fuck, I'm overreacting now, sorry."

I am NOT crying, no fucking way, I will not be some blubbery pissant! I NEVER cry! Because Jane certainly won't want me to go to the office, let alone keep me like she promised on the beach.

"How can I reassure you that I am very much committed to you?" Jane asked, taking her hand. Even through the gloves, her palm was warm from the tiny ceramic espresso cup. "You just teased me for being jealous not three minutes ago."

"So you admit it," Anna laughed wetly, and ran an index under her eyelid to wipe away any running liner. "This is the mess you have chosen, Jane. Teasing and light one minute, but desperate to be loved underneath. Can't promise to change."

Jane contemplated their clasped hands, pursing her lips in decision or frustration. Anna wasn't sure. She released Anna's fingers, and began working the tech gloves off of her own. The slight noise of nylon sliding over skin was a sound Anna hadn't known she'd been waiting for, hadn't known she'd been anticipating for days… or weeks. Jane placed her naked hand, voluntarily bare, with no prodding on Anna's part, right back atop Anna's fingers. And when she threaded her own fingers through the tanned, sparsely freckled digits and connected them at the webbing, there was a remarkable sturdiness to the action. Legos snapping together. Slotted Lincoln-logs shifting into place. Notches in sanded beams, linking with resilient studs, building something solid, something safe.

A link, a lock that even Jane couldn't break, in the simple action of holding hands without a barrier. An action so simple (important, critical, significant, crucial, momentous) it had taken Jane weeks to muster up the courage.

For her to initiate.

The light bulb went off in Anna's mind.

God, I am such a selfish asshole.

It wasn't Anna that Jane didn't trust. Jane didn't trust herself.

How can I show you that I am very much committed to you? Jane had said.

By trusting in the woman I have chosen. By trusting yourself.

And Jane had worked that out on her own. There was logic to the action, reasonably figured, temporally precise. And Anna, the girl who was supposed to be good with emotions, the girl who was supposed to understand, exploit, and manipulate the feelings of others, had been utterly clueless. Thankfully, she had fallen in love with a genius. Who was more attuned to the heart than even she knew.

"I would never ask you to change," Jane finally said. "Do you… do you even want to continue with this?"

"What?" Anna asked, shaken from her thoughts.

"It's discomfiting, really, walking into a place that you thought was safe, only to find out that it's not the sanctum you believed it to be. I almost feel bad for those homes I burgled in my early days," Jane's shoulders fell in a loaded exhale. "What I mean is, we can stop this. Go ahead and start our lives. We've still got our money, I've still got my plane, you pick a place, and we're there, A. Say the word."

"But what about your name?"

"My name? 'Jane' has suited me fine."

"What if you have family? A big brother? A crazy aunt? The family dog?"

"I thought… I mean, I didn't mean to presume, but… you're like my family."

"How could I…"

Anna was mesmerized with the feel of Jane's soft skin. Enraptured. Her skin was smoother than watercolors. Yes, they had kissed, had cuddled, had embraced and caressed. But Anna almost always initiated, and constantly had to reassure Jane of her actions. And something about Jane touching her so willingly, with such confidence in her, cast her in the role of guarantor for Jane's happiness, for the blonde's livelihood.

Like family.

"While the sentiment makes me want to kiss you senseless, you know I would never ask you to abandon your search, just like you would never ask me to change," Anna managed.

Anna squeezed Jane's hand a little too hard. The blonde's eyes were shiny from weariness, cheeks losing their painted flush from her race across the rooftops. Anna brought Jane's uncovered hand up to her mouth, lips meeting the indention between her middle and ring fingers.

"I want this for you as much as you do. Commensurate happiness, remember?"

"So we'll continue with the plan," Jane said, that tinge of authority shooting her voice into its raspy lower register. Which Anna found damn sexy. "We'll find out as much as we can about Hans, and, in turn, myself. By breaking into his so-called office. I swear, my readings said there was nothing there."

"Readings can be misleading. I thought you were a robot the first time I met you."

"That was a fair assessment."

"So we'll go tomorrow night then?" Anna asked. "Now that we know you're apartment is safe, I feel like I could collapse right on that mattress."

"Same here, right after I take you up on that offer of you kissing me senseless."

"That was said in a highly emotional state," Anna scoffed.

"Jest or not, you said it. And I've just had espresso, I'll be wired for hours."

"I'm sure we can find something to keep you occupied," Anna murmured.

They left the coffee house at a slower pace, hand in hand, and skin on skin.

Ridiculously long A/N: Let me preface by encouraging you guys not to freak out. I've been looking over the story holistically, and I feel I've just been missing a little *umph* in the last few chapters. I don't know what's been off, other than the writing not being as crisp as I want it to be. I tried to keep that in mind with this chapter, which I'm much happier about. That being said, I've noticed the past four or five chapters have all weighed in at about 5k words pretty consistently, and I fear I've fallen into a quantity in lieu of quality sort of thing. Complicated plotty bits are about to come together in the final act, and I want the writing as sharp and exciting as the first half of the story while not being tedious, so updates, unfortunately, will not be on Wednesdays and Saturdays anymore. They will be at least once, maybe twice a week, but I can't give you guys a set day. This just gives me a little more wiggle room with the editing process, to make sure things are still engaging and well-done for you readers, who I love and thank for all your support thus far. And just because I'm scaling back updates does NOT MEAN I'M ABANDONING THIS. So again, don't freak out. We'll finish up the Vegas arc, which will jettison us into the final act, which means the end is very much in sight. Stick with me.

And apologies for not replying to reviews this time. I'm going to try to get back on that with this next chapter. You guys are great! Thanks!