I don't own Frozen. Disclaimer for minor sexual content.

Jane felt monumental relief knowing she wasn't the only screwed-up female international criminal with a streak of kleptomania and a penchant for exotic chocolates. But all the same, she would have wished upon her diamond stars and scattered them across the Milky Way if she could've taken away A's troubles. Alas, that was not the case.

A filled her in on most everything she'd put together at the Manhattan office. There were thirteen shell companies operating as tax havens for a conglomerate called WGT, aka, WesGenTech. A's first theory was that each of Hans's brothers, as well as himself, had been tasked with setting up and acquiring the legitimate paper trail for the companies, in order to fund some bigger scheme. But then A had mentioned Hans's rather contentious relationship with his elder siblings, and summarily dismissed the idea. But if the job was big enough, even the most ruthless would want a piece of the monetary pie. Jane did not dismiss the Westerguard clan so swiftly.

A was also 'Subject Beta'. And if Jane and A had been operating under a correct assumption, then Hans not only had information on A, but information on Jane as well, filed away under an unknown heading. Why, why, why would he need such detailed medical information, obviously scoured from the public record, on two criminal women? What made them (well, aside from the obvious on Jane's part) so special?

In addition to mulling over that query, A spent some quality time during their Vegas prep 'finding' herself. Such discovered information included:

"I had a broken arm from when I was two! Records say tricycle accident, but come on, I couldn't have started that young on the clumsy, could I? Who would've thought that?"

"Yuck, they've got my mugshot from my first juvie stint, not exactly my best side."

"How the hell do they know about that birth mark?!"

Jane would try to nod neutrally at every revelation, not fully comprehending whether the discoveries were positive or negative.

"And they keep talking about this 'link with Subject Alpha'." A said. "This file's got all this biological information I never knew, but I didn't want it to turn into a sci-fi short story. Blood type, there's even a space for a hair sample! As if they'd want to tame this mane."

Jane hummed a noncommittal noise, and wiped her hands on a towel by the kitchen sink. She returned to the dough before her and turned off the crackling oil in the deep fryer she'd pilfered from a homegoods store. She removed the fried bits and placed them upon a cookie sheet. Jane sprinkled powdered sugar atop the drier ones, then transferred them to the broiler to crisp.

"I was a southerner! I mean, I sort of was, with a childhood in New Orleans, but Memphis?" A exclaimed, scrolling rapidly down a tablet. "The home of the blues, yeah, I'm feeling it."

"What exactly are you feeling?" Jane asked.

"The blues, the southern lifestyle!"

"That could be indigestion."

"I do declare!" A said, affecting an adorable drawl and posing against the sheer curtains of Jane's apartment window. Like a southern belle border-line insane from heatstroke. She lacked a hoop skirt and corset, but Jane didn't doubt that A had donned them in one of her previous jobs. A twirled coquettishly and fanned herself with her hand. "Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of the closest bar-b-que picnic? I'm sure Ashley and Rhett will never forgive my tardiness!"

"Who are they?" Jane asked.

"Gone with the Wind, Jane! Only one of the greatest—"

"Cinematic achievements in American cinema, as you've needlessly reminded me. Even though it romanticizes the worst subjugation of a people in our nation's history."

"There's that nobility again. And while I agree, it's the technical aspects of the film that are amazing." A made an exaggerated eye roll, then fell back into her quaint speech. "Anywho, what's a fine young lady such as yourself doing in the kitchen on a beautiful day like this?" She sashayed over to Jane, who was watching the entire charade from behind the counter. Jane removed the chilled raspberry filling from the refrigerator and scooped some into a bowl.

"Despite my handicap in the kitchen, I'm attempting homemade cronuts for an afternoon trip, at my significant other's behest."

"Oh, you've got yourself a beau!" A clapped her hands to her breast, swooning into the barstool. "I bet he's handsome as can be."

Jane's brow threatened to crawl off her head, but she played along.

"Not quite."

"Not quite? My dear— awe, fiddledeedee, I can't recall your name."

"Jane."

"JAAAAne, more beautiful than the lily in the river," A winked. "You mean to tell me your significant other isn't the perfect picture of ravishing beauty?" A splayed her hands before her, drawing a frame about her torso, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Jane stuck her tongue out at A, then proceeded to sample the raspberry goo she planned on stuffing into the cronuts.

"No, I'm afraid I can't comment on my relationship. Some may consider it… irregular," Jane said.

"Oh!" A sauntered around the bar and then slid along it, til she was shoulder to shoulder with Jane. "You don't mean to tell me that yours is one of those… scandalous affairs between yourself and another of the fairer sex?"

Jane scoffed. "Maybe in your time."

"Pardon?"

"I actually meant that my partner is… well, an outlaw. On the run, or the lamb, or whatever colloquialism is historically accurate for your comprehension. As to the relationship itself, I'll tell you nothing, only that I am ridiculously content with it."

"An outlaw! How exhilarating, how dangerous, how… tantalizing," A dropped her voice, sucking on a raspberry-covered thumb. "It's a shame you're so happy with your partner, I've always been a mite bit curious," A said, walking her fingers over a countertop full of powdered sugar. Her hand slid to Jane's wrist, then started making circular patterns over the jutting bones between forearm and knuckle. Her other had sneakily returned to the raspberry filling. She painted a streak of congealed smushed fruit along the backside of Jane's right hand, spreading it with the efficiency of a butter knife. A lifted the hand to her mouth and licked it clean.

Jane observed, captivated. "You're not trying to seduce me, are you?"

"Seduce you? Well I never! What exactly do you take me for?"

Jane shrugged. "You just mentioned you were curious. As if you desired a… partner for an experiment."

"And I don't suppose you'd be willing to oblige?" A said, fingertips climbing Jane's arm and then bridging a clavicle. She pulled Jane's left shoulder square with her, and then twisted to face Jane full-on.

"I am deeply committed to her," Jane said, grin stretching across her face. Lazy, content, like a lounging house cat. "She's sweet as—" Jane swirled her thumb in the powdery confection, then swiped it across A's lips. "—sugar," Jane finished.

"Why, certainly," A said, still affecting a deep southern dialect. "That's admirable of you."

"But that accent is just so…"

"Hmm?"

"Sexy."

"You think so?" A asked, hands roaming over Jane's liberal hips, around to her lower back, skimming the skin between her hemline and the top of her pants. Jane twitched in her sneakers at the touch along her spine, fingertips softer than a breeze.

"So you understand, if I were to assist in this, 'experiment'," Jane playfully looked both ways. "… no one could ever know."

"You intend to engage me in some illicit, disgraceful action, don't you? What ever will your lover say?!"

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

A's mouth dropped open in surprise, giving Jane the perfect opportunity to swoop in and kiss the sugar from the outline of her mouth. When A regained some coherent thought, she reciprocated, tonguing Jane's lips affectionately and allowing entrance when Jane prodded. Sticky, powdered hands started shifting, and soon, A's shirt was covered in five-fingered confectionary prints. A sighed and Jane grew greedy, desperate to touch skin when A had beaten her to the punch. Those freckled fingers were already drumming persistent beats along her creamy vertebrae, dipping and exploring each time they returned to the top of Jane's underwear. It wasn't fair, A with those unmanageable long sleeves.

I can't even touch her arms!

Jane's hands flew to the bottom of A's shirt, lifting the edge determinedly until she got two palmfuls of tan, supple abdomen. A exhaled into the touch, nipping Jane's lower lip. A then kissed the corner of Jane's lip, the action Jane now recognized as A's signal for deviation from the mouth. And sure enough, down she went, along the jaw line, just beneath the ear, and then to the pronounced, angular hollow where Jane's clavicle met her neck. A would lap, swirl, and suck there, leaving a little mark that Jane's black turtlenecks usually covered.

But it's not fair! She always gets to— and I never—

Lucid reasoning was not on her side with A nuzzling persistently, warm breaths and sensual intentions tickling her neurons and the sensitized translucent hairs on her arms. A ran her nose along the exposed skin under Jane's neck, about to set to work marking the other side.

Enough of this!

Jane's left hand shot toward A's thigh. She hitched it up around her hips with surprising alacrity, her unexpected forcefulness slinging endorphins through her body. A gasped against her neck, then peered up, all hooded lids and black-blown pupils.

"Jump," Jane growled, and A did, wrapping her other leg around Jane's waist in the process. Jane's hands flew to A's torso, pulling her as close to her body as the other girl's weight would allow. She abandoned the project in the kitchen and carried A into the living area, strength fueled by untempered arousal. A melted into her body, her legs wrapped so firmly around her waist, like a napkin tucked around the base of a dissolving snow cone. Jane felt giddly with excitement, the same kind born from licking a sweet, rainbow-colored treat on a hot summer's day.

Jane placed A gently atop the back of the low white couch, and kissed her on the forehead. A was but an inch higher than her now, cheeks redder than lollipops and breaths staccato. She kissed Jane again, and the blonde didn't resist when A tugged her shirt up and over her torso. Their lips broke contact as the fabric slipped over Jane's head, but they reconnected seamlessly as A chucked it across the room. A tangled her hand in Jane's loose braid and the copper haired girl pulled her closer. She didn't protest when Jane mimicked her shirt-removing action, but with less panache. A had to assist her in the disrobing, but when it was gone, the two simply stared at each other, gauging libidos and consequences and temptations.

Jane reached out timidly, and A nodded her encouragement. She traced the shell of A's pink brassiere and met the topside of A's breast at the peak of her ascent. The lump of cloud-soft skin looked… delicious.

So much better than cronuts.

Jane kissed the exposed top of one breast, and ran her finger back down over the other with a bit more pressure. A shifted atop the couch and her jean-clad legs opened wider, allowing Jane to step fully into her. Their bodies fit together, just as their hands did. Jane's other hand came up and cupped A's left breast, squeezing it experimentally. A's eyes were closed and her head tilted back at roughly thirty degrees, Jane noted. Not full abandon, but perched precariously at the edge.

"Aaahh…."

Jane was dauntless, tugging a pigtail back with one hand and rubbing a breast with the other. Her palm performed a sequence of groping compressions while Jane kissed the sandy column of A's exposed neck. Somewhere around the second hickey, Jane realized that A released more titillating noises when sharper pressure was applied.

I wonder if—

Jane pinched and twisted A's nipple through the fabric, and the girl nearly flew off the couch.

"NNNNGH!"

A's core rocketed into Jane's center and her thighs tightened around Jane's hips, which elicited a hiss of pleasure from the blonde. Jane could see drops of perspiration accumulating at A's forehead. The mixture of her girlfriend's exertion with the confectioner's sugar tasted like trail mix, salty-sweet and filling.

Jane felt full to bursting.

She thought A looked more beautiful than a sunbeam, the golden haze of foreplay muddling her outline while she tried to breathe through the sensations.

"Jane, I don't think we should—"

"You're going to hate me—"

"We can't, not now—"

"The runway's scheduled us to fly in two hours."

"Oh Jane, sweetheart, I—"

"I took it upon myself to book the honeymoon Penthouse at Caesar's Palace," Jane confessed, hands firmly plastered to A's spine. The centerline at her back was hotter than a furnace coil. Jane flexed her fingers against A's skin, flesh puckering with goosebumps at the touch. "It was going to be a surprise, but I was thinking, I mean, obviously, that we could—"

"You want to have freaky sex in Vegas!" A exclaimed, clapping her hands over her mouth in excitement.

"I'm ready to make love," Jane corrected, a smile in her voice. "I want to do right by you, for your first. Hans's game isn't for another two days. We'll get there today, have time to check-in, get our bearings tonight. I booked you a reservation at the spa for tomorrow—"

"Jane! A spa! I love it!" A said, kissing her soundly on the lips. "But not you? You didn't want to come with me?"

"No, it's not that, it's just… I don't mind you, but other people, touching me. I'd rather not risk it just yet."

"That makes sense, I guess," A pouted cutely. "But what are you going to do all day?"

"I've got that research to do on WGT."

"I hate to leave you saddled with all the work."

"I don't mind. I don't plan to be working the entire time I'm there," Jane went a little whoozy at the implication. "We need to research more than ever now, because they've got information on you, too. But work aside, I thought we could get dressed up. I know how much you like your finery. We could go out to dinner—"

"And dancing!" A interjected.

"I hadn't quite planned on that. I don't dance."

"We've got a roomful of witnesses in Amsterdam who might beg to differ."

"You know very well that once I got on the floor I was hopeless. I'm honestly surprised more people didn't notice I had no idea what I was doing up there."

"Didn't look like it from my end. They were too distracted by your flexibility," A said with a suggestive smirk. "Imaginations running wild."

Jane huffed good naturedly. "You're a rather biased source."

"I don't know, I like to think I can objectively judge strip teases and sexual performances."

Jane snorted. "You're insane."

"No really," A insisted, working herself out of Jane's hold. She smiled mischievously and then flopped back over the couch, graceless as a pig rollicking about in the mud. She reset herself and beckoned Jane to the front of the couch. Jane followed, pleasantly bemused.

"Gimme a lap dance, and I'll grade you objectively."

"Now I know you're crazy."

"You sure? You wouldn't dance for me?" A asked.

"I'll go to a club and dance with you in Vegas, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"If you behave."

"Behave? Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because when you don't, we end up shirtless and likely to miss our scheduled departure at the airstrip," Jane said, glancing at her wristwatch. "Which means no Vegas, no spa, no dinner, no dancing, and no… you know."

"Sexy times?"

"No sexy times for you."

A beamed up toward Jane and ran a hand through her disheveled copper locks.

"If you don't mind me asking… why now?"

"What?" Jane returned.

"Sex. Why now? I hope it wasn't… I didn't say anything the other night that compelled you to, uhm, to make you feel like we had to get on with, uh, getting it on. I mean, I've still got some things to work out, you do to, I just—"

"With lives like ours, I doubt we'll ever not have things to work through," Jane said. "But what made me want it? Want you?"

A nodded and Jane brought her hands up over her chest. Not from nervousness, or anxiety, but for honest consideration. She propped herself on one leg, hip jutting out, comfortable, satisfied with her decision. She wanted to give A a proper reason.

"I've been shot at nine times in my career. It's never really phased me, until the other night," Jane began. "And it wasn't even that I was getting shot at, but that you were with me. A, what if you had been killed, or injured? What if something would have happened to me, and I never followed through on the chance to be with you? I don't want to feel that way anymore. I'm ready to… be closer to you."

"I love you," A said, wiggling her fingers out toward Jane.

Jane stepped closer and took A's hand, and the fit was better than her customized gloves.

"I… I just know I want to be with you, because life— life's too short to miss out on someone like you."

Not the three little words, but close enough for now. Everything will be perfect when I tell her, truly tell her.

"And, w-well," Jane continued, attempting to rein in her discomfort, "…in case you were worried, I have a clean bill of health from… from that time before."

A's face folded in, perplexed, and then she drew in a breath of awareness.

"I had to check back then, to make sure I wasn't preg—"

"I understand," A cut her off, squeezing her hand. "Although…" A bit her lip and giggled.

"Although what?"

"I'd love to see little blonde you's running around, setting off car alarms and remotely turning on the television even after we put them to bed— S-sorry, I didn't just say that!" A facepalmed with the hand that wasn't holding Jane's, but the blonde could still see A's cheeks coloring through her fingers. "That's getting sooooo carried away, and we're criminals, it wouldn't be wise... I'm shutting up now."

A produced a lopsided grin at the confession and squeezed Jane's hand again, licking her swollen lips and pointedly staring at Jane's exposed skin.

"You're a damn goddess, you know that?"

"You don't have to sweet talk me now and promise futures of roses and babies, I already said I'll sleep with you." The full body blush started at her toes and worked its way north, Jane's internal temperature rising with the pinkish stain enveloping her skin.

"No, just… I just want to tell you. You're beautiful, and kind, and smart and— wait… that's how this whole thing started!"

"I'm sorry?"

"You quoted Rhett Butler to me! How on earth did you even know that?!"

"I've memorized the American Film Institute's 100 Years, 100 Films series of lists to better converse with you."

"That's at least... ten lists of ten different film categories, with quotes and actresses and genres and—"

"It was either that or art theory. I went with the easier option," Jane said. "That quote was number one, anyway."

"But that's like, the sexiest thing you've ever said to me!"

"Yet."

A's chin must have been peculiarly heavy this afternoon, for she dropped her jaw again and her head fell back melodramatically. She threw an arm over her head and groaned. "I'm going to waste away in the meantime!"

Jane gnawed her cheek in thought and approached A slowly, attempting that sultry sway A had employed in her struts on stage in Amsterdam. She climbed atop the couch and draped her arms over A's shoulders. Jane managed to prop her knees on either side of the girl's hips, satisfied immensely when A's hands automatically clasped the backs of her thighs.

"You won't waste," Jane said, barely lowering herself onto A's lap. Her fingers were sliding, tapping the bare skin of A's arms, silently typing I love you, I love you, I love you, in sequence against the girl's biceps.

She planned on telling A over dinner in Vegas.

Jane sensed the countdown of the timer in the kitchen, and just before she could grind herself into A's lap, the little bell went off.

"But you might stew," she said, and kissed A playfully at her hairline. "— in a soup of hormones and dissatisfied libido. Cronuts are done."

Jane dismounted from A's lap while the red-head gaped, pointedly ignoring the squeals of sexual frustration coming from her couch. She hid her chuckle behind the powdered sugar sifter.

"I don't understand!" A cried. "You can't even do the social thing, and you're sexy without even trying… You're such a fuckin' tease!"

"Goddess," Jane sing-songed, plopping hot cronuts into a plastic Tupperware container. "And I'm not sexy, I just know how to get under your skin."

"I would prefer under my skirt!"

Jane sealed the container filled with cronuts, placing them on top of the rest of the items in her duffel so that they wouldn't be smushed during the flight. She wanted to make sure A kept up her strength in Vegas. If all went as planned, the girl would definitely need it.

"Holy shit," A said, dropping her bag as she entered the suite on the top floor of Caesar's Palace. She bypassed the foyer and headed straight for the living area, leaping over the arm of the couch onto the cushions and bounding with the movements of an ill-mannered pogo stick.

"This is amazing!" she shouted.

Jane allowed herself a moment of fond consideration and a glance about the luxurious suite, then took the bags to the bed room.

The flight had been uneventful, aside from A nearly crashing the plane.

The holograms on the flight were still active, so when Olaf materialized behind Jane to confirm her reservation, A had rocketed out of the copilot's chair and nudged a throttle-level controller.

A had panicked, Jane had regained the lost altitude, and Olaf had waited patiently for the debacle to remedy itself. A fright, but nothing to harp upon. Except for the fact that A had mentioned that Jane had saved her life twice now, and she fully intended to repay her.

Sexually.

Jane had colored deeply and tried desperately for reasonable conversation with Air Traffic Control, A's audacious fingers rubbing patterns over her shoulder while she was trying to fly a damn jet.

Thankfully, they made it to the suite in one piece.

Jane didn't usually unpack, but didn't think she'd like the cronuts remaining stashed in her duffel. She opened the lid of the container and inhaled, not at all surprised that half of the batch had disappeared during the flight.

"We can always order room service for breakfast," A said, waltzing into the bedroom behind her.

"I don't know, you made short work of these on little more than a three hour flight. Might have to file that away as one of your favorites."

"Careful trying to make me happy, or you'll be the cook in this relationship," A said, slipping her arms around the back of Jane's waist. She looked over Jane's shoulder and into the mirror before them at the dresser, Jane's head falling against copper strands. Jane wrapped her hands about her abdomen, but this time, over arms that held her securely. More secure than any harness or rope she used for her rappelling adventures. A different kind of safety.

"You know, we're pretty hot together."

"You think so?" Jane asked.

"I can't wait for tomorrow."

"We can still have some fun tonight," Jane whispered in her ear.

"What did you have in mind?"

"It's Vegas. I'll let you decide," Jane replied, relinquishing the hold to go after a brochure up front. Jane was almost worried upon her return, for A stood with hands over her mouth, flabbergasted.

"Jane!"

"Hmm?"

"Did you do this?" A asked, eyes on the bed.

Arranged neatly above the covers and plush pillows were three sunflowers on long stalks, a Gatsby champagne chiller full of ice and a bottle of bubbly sticking out of it. Two flutes on the bed-side table coaxed Jane into cork-popping.

"Perhaps," Jane replied, walking toward the bed. She made short work of the bottle and poured the wheat colored liquid into two glasses, effervescent bubbles dancing on the surface of the drink.

Jane handed one flute to A and raised her own in a toast.

"But—"

"It's okay," Jane said, indicating the label on the bottle.

"Sparkling grape juice?"

Jane shrugged, and was suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity. She felt her eyebrows shift upwards, seeking approval.

Oh, this is patently ridiculous. Grape juice?! She's going to think I'm the least roman— oh, hello.

A had brushed a dangling bit of hair from her face and was now kissing her lightly. Her eyes drifted shut at the contact, A's lips delicately working against her own like a sculptor fine-tuning the contours of a statue. Nothing too forceful, but enough pressure to produce the desired result. A broke away with eyes sparkly as the juice in her hand.

"You're so romantic," she said, indicating the flowers.

"My girlfriend expects it. She watches an obscene amount of romantic movies."

"You didn't do this because of that, did you? Because you really didn't have to—"

"A," Jane hushed her. "I did this because I want you to know how much I… that I am so happy with you," she finished.

A made a meal of her lower lip, nodding while the beat passed.

It wasn't enough, but I swear, you'll hear it tomorrow, I have it all planned.

Jane withdrew and squared her shoulders.

"To us?" Jane asked, inclining her flute forward.

"To us," A agreed. "Whoever we may be." They clinked their glasses and drank, then sealed their toast with another brief peck.

"So, attractions!" A said, snatching the brochure. She tumbled onto the bed and unfolded the extensive packet. "We'll go to the club tomorrow, so dancing's out. The bar scene, well, not much fun for you. And why gamble when you can just hack the system? I'm still full on cronuts, so dinner's a no-go... But they've got go-karts down the block!"

"You do realize I drive Ferraris and Lamborghinis, right? I would shame you."

"Is that another challenge?" A asked.

"No. It's a fact."

"Go-karts it is, then. Get ready to eat your words, sister."

A/N: Chapter title taken from a 'Gone with the Wind' quote. Mostly fun filler, but we get to see some physical progression and a setting change. Would love your critique or thoughts, if you care to share. Thanks again to all the favs, follows and reviewers. You guys rock my socks.