AN: I know, I know, not enough Elsanna—but I needed to have a satisfying (or warm and fuzzy) conclusion to this little series of events. Also, plot hooks and red herrings.


So, there's a wall in front of me. Literally. I'm expected to climb it. Well, I've got a harness on, and I warmed up on an easier wall earlier, but this… well, it might be just a little bit beyond me. That's okay though, because Kristoff has already won our little challenge, and is this is just to get me a little something on the side.

Assuming that something isn't bruises and bandages, I should be fine.

The holds are rough in my hands, the texture helps with grip, I'm sure. So does the fact I can nearly fit my whole hand inside them. This is only the base of the wall. The easy section. There's a slight back angle on the wall a few feet up, and I'm already trying to plan my path before I get there. I can't plan it like Kristoff either—he's huge, and he's got massive reach. I'm short—but I'm also very flexible and—ooh, I'm gonna feel that one tomorrow. Okay, that path isn't going to work, because I can't bend my arm back that far and hold my weight off it. New plan.

Smaller holds, and I can feel the muscles in my arms now, tensing to hold me against the possible fall. Even knowing Kristoff is on belay for me, I'm treating this as realistically as possible. I just don't want to fall. More that I don't want to fail, actually. I want to show my husband that I can do some of the things he does. I stretch one leg out, finding a slightly larger hold I can push off from. And now, swinging back against the wall, I wonder how he made that scrabble-climb look so easy.

I almost made it though—my fingers slipped on the hold at the last second. I didn't push off with quite enough force. So, again. I can really feel it as my left arm takes all my weight, my right hand just managing to catch the same hold before I slip down again. I look under my body—which is actually slightly 'up', but the directions are wonky with this back angle—and search for something to swing my feet against so I can rest my shoulders. That little hold. I can get one foot on that and—yes. I can relax just a little.

And then realise I'm not even halfway up. Damn.

The route up looks more difficult than I first thought. There's a straight path, but the holds are tiny, and there's not all that many of them. There's a path to my right, and there's a protrusion there with a couple of holds, but it's probably not big enough to spider off of. There's a path to my left, which goes round the other protrusion—but there's only one hold under it, and one on the side of it. Above that section there are a few more holds, slightly larger too, but it's getting to them. I decide on the right hand path.

I have to move carefully, selecting holds I can hook my fingers into. Little holds that I can get more than the arch of my foot over. It's definitely harder than it looks, and I'm starting to feel it in my hips and shoulders now. And thighs. Wrists. Basically everything is starting to remind me I shouldn't be doing this. Or at least, I shouldn't be doing it for too much longer unless I want to feel it all of tomorrow. Flat against the wall, one hold pressing into my stomach, I reach out to the first hold on the protrusion. My fingers slip, but I catch another hold—the one that was next to my stomach—with my left hand. Saved.

I'm just over half-way, if I'm generous with what I stand on. I make another attempt at the hold on that protrusion, going for it full force this time. I get it, but it's very disconcerting having my legs swinging free as my arms begin to burn with the effort of hauling me up. I have to do this. I brace one foot against the wall—my toes just touching—and attempt to spider up the protrusion. Only after I move my left hand from one hold to another, and move my right leg, do I realise I've got myself stuck. I can't swap holds or hands without either slipping, or knocking another limb loose. Yup, that's my planning showing up again. I'm also nearly upside down.

"Umm… Kristoff?"

"You okay up there?"

"I'm stuck."

"You want to belay down a bit?"

"Please."

I let go, putting my arms across my face. I bounce off the protrusion as Kristoff lowers me.

"That's good enough." And from here I can try again—hopefully with less tying myself in a knot this time.

Ten minutes later I realise that no matter what path I take, I'm not going to have the energy, strength, or flexibility to reach the top. Well, at least it was good exercise, even if it did leave a few bruises in interesting places. Much as I hate it, I have to concede defeat. I'll be back though. Maybe, like Kristoff, I just need stronger motivation. At least I managed to get above that first protrusion. I eye the wall suspiciously. Next time. Next time I'll get you.

"Kristoff?"

"You calling it?"

"If I don't, I think my arms are gonna fall off—and then how am I gonna work tomorrow?"

"Fair point," I can hear him chuckling. "Hopefully my arms are fine for later. And tomorrow."

I just shake my head, preparing to jump out. "I'm gonna abseil down."

I kick off, bounding down beside the protrusion, then past the slight overhang, and soon to the ground. We both unclip, removing our harnesses so we can return them and go to the cafe next door. A cafe that seems to be doing reasonably good business for a Sunday afternoon, actually. Wait. It's only Saturday. Not working today has thrown me off a bit, it seems. It's still cloudy outside, but the rain seems to have died to a light drizzle. In a few weeks we'll get snow, I'm sure of it. Maybe sooner.

I text Joan when we sit down on the cafe. They keep it warm in here, so I put my jacket on the back of my chair. Kristoff runs a hand through his hair and eyes me warily. I just give him a look. He looks at my breasts—actually, not quite. Where? Ah. Well, I have been working out more than usual today. I give him a challenging look. Wisely, he says nothing about it.

"Anna?" I know that voice. Vaguely. I feel like it belongs to someone larger and younger than me.

I turn to see who it is I can't quite place. "Cass? What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask the same thing. Looks like you've been working out a bit," she turns pensive for a moment. "I didn't see you in the gym…"

Kristoff chimes in. "Climbing place, next door. We had a little challenge going."

"My little firebird won, of course?" She pulls up another chair for our table. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, why not." I shake my head and laugh. "And mountain man over there forgot to mention his sporting past."

"Uncool, Kris. Uncool."

"Hey, we just needed to get out of the house and do something active."

"And what about you, Cass, what brings you here today?" I'm leaning forward, staring at her shirt. If she's been training, I can't tell.

"Weight training. Like I said, gym's not far from here. I like this place to cool down after." She leans forward, addressing both of us. "We could make this a regular thing, if you like?"

Me and Kristoff try talking at the same time. He gestures for me to go. "It'd be nice, but we normally have a lot of work to do on Saturdays."

"At home?"

"Work, work." Kristoff explains. "We do contract maintenance, installs in factories and the like. A lot of our stuff happens on Saturdays because the plants shut down over the weekend—that, and we don't want to work Sundays."

"You want anything, Cass?" I'm already fishing for my card. "Kristoff, the usual?"

"Add something sweet."

"I already ate; but thanks."

The way Cass was looking at me. I swear… I swear you looked at me that way sometimes. I was filthy. Or unkempt. Or had just spent hours sweltering in my overalls underneath something. But you still saw me. You saw through everything, and saw my beauty. Nearly eighteen years ago, when I like to think I was a very different person. At the counter I grab something with chocolate, a coffee, a muffin, and a piece of slice for Kristoff, and then I decide I'll have a red lamington to go with my hot chocolate. Two mugs, and two carefully arranged plates later I'm back at our table and setting everything down.

I look at Cass. "So, if you're doing training, you've got another fight coming up?"

"Nah," she shakes her head. "Just keeping fit. Haven't got a major bout until mid-December. If you two want tickets…"

"Maybe?" I offer tentatively. I look to Kristoff. "What's our roster like?"

"We might be setting up for Al, Naveen's probably going to want some end-of-year checks, and Mal's has a contract I need to put in a new bid for after the other guys turned out to be crap."

"Sounds like you guys'll be busy, but if you're not, hit me up." Did she just wink at me? The way Kristoff's trying to surreptitiously catch my attention under the table, I think she did.

"We will," I stress the 'we'. I also pretend to fidget with my wedding band. I am not trying to be subtle about this.

What I am trying to be subtle about is the amount of mess I'm making while trying to eat my lamington. Kristoff just sips his coffee and watches me with mild amusement. Cass, for her part, seems to be trying to figure out exactly how open I am to the idea of watching her fight. That, or trying to figure out which part of her cunningly improvised plan to flirt with me failed so spectacularly. I am trying to torpedo her plans, but not so badly she thinks she has to go down with the ship. Me and Kristoff will have to talk about this later.

I take out my phone, swiping through an old string of messages. "We should get moving soon, don't want to be late for Joan."

There's only a moment of confusion on his face until he twigs. "You're right, we might have let time get away from us in there."

We finish our drinks, and the last couple of bites of food. I give Cass a little smile. "I'll see you another time. Tell Audrey we say hi."

Outside, and the drizzle has turned back into rain. I lower my head as we jog for the car. Once I'm inside and buckled up I shake myself off a little. "Well, that was awkward."

"Did you really need to call for a save?"

"You saw her flirting with me, right?"

"Low key. Maybe she was just trying to be nice."

"Maybe. I'm just not sure. If she was, I'm hoping we didn't crush her too bad."

"'We'?"

"Fine. Me then. But I'm over 40. I wasn't expecting anything like this."

"Okay, I see where you're coming from," Kristoff's starting the engine. "But do you really want to hash this out here and now, or would you rather wait?"

"Until when?"

"Tonight. We can always put a raincheck on… you know, if it comes to it."

"Tonight. Yeah. Maybe we should talk after, not before."

"You're okay with that?"

I give him a shrug that he probably can't see out of the corner of his eyes. "Actually, yeah, I am." Although thinking of later, and other things… "I hope we gave Joan and Tina enough time to get decent."

Kristoff snorts. "I am not opening that door."

The rest of the ride home is fairly normal. Saturday traffic, and it's not really that bad. It's only mid-afternoon, but they've had the whole morning to themselves, and then some. When I walk in the door—after knocking quite loudly—I swear I can hear snoring. I am a little surprised that no one came down to greet us—we made enough noise, after all. Kristoff heads to the kitchen, while I take the stairs. It's definitely snoring. I'm not sure who, technically, is on top right now, but at least they're kind of under the covers. I unroll the blanket and pull it over them. Tina mumbles something in her sleep, then turns around. Her eyes shoot open when she sees me trying to leave quietly.

"Uhh… Miss… umm… Miss Bermgan—" she shakes her head rapidly "—I mean Miss Bergman. Hi." She gives me a little wave from the covers.

"You two looked cold, I thought you could do with a blanket," I'm closing the door softly behind me, leaving just a crack in case she wants to talk. "I'll just let you two rest, and you can come down in your own time. Dinner's in a few hours, if you want it."

Nothing.

Well, nothing but Joan's snoring.

I'm happy for them. I'm happy Joan's no longer so highly strung she could snap the house in two. I'm happy they can just rest for this afternoon. I'm happy they're safe. I guess there's a lot of reasons to be happy right now. I'm even happy I don't have to tell more of our story quite yet—not that it's hard, but just that sometimes it dredges up the bad as well as the good. But it's our story, and I'm not going to leave any of that out.