AUTHOR'S NOTE: HALLO YES I'M HERE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. FUN FACT: FLYNN RIDER IS RIDICULOUSLY DIFFICULT TO WRITE; SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
STAY SAFE EVERYBODY THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS AND LOVE AND SUPPORT THEY MEAN ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING TO ME
Regarding WATTPAD: M'kay, so I've been alerted (thank you, Guest Reviewer Xenn!) that there's a a person on Wattpad trying to pass off a copy-pasted version of Ice Alliance as their own. Even though the responses from the last time I brought up the idea of reposting has me legitimately considering the idea, I obviously couldn't do anything until after that version is taken down—because, I want to clarify, that person on Wattpad IS NOT ME. I am currently trying to get into contact with her, and she hasn't responded yet, but in her defense, it looks like she hasn't been on the website since 2018. That being said, I would like to get it taken down, largely due to the fact that the copy-pasting method used removed ALL OF THE FORMATTING. (*screams in bolded italics*) FORMATTING IS VERY IMPORTANT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGH WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY (Also, stealing is bad. Please don't steal from me.)
That being said, here's a legit Wattpad question for you guys: It seems that Wattpad's system is all about ranking and numbers of reads, but without the Actual Feedback Part that you get from having reviews…? (Not gonna lie; that seems… VERY toxic.) Am I missing something? Please enlighten me!
As for AO3: I am CONSIDERING it. For the record.
To Guest Reviewer 18419: You can't know how much that means to me. Also, keep in mind… "thousands of reviews" is my TOTALY number of reviews, since August of 2015. For example, in the last month, I've had… five. I've had five. TRUST me, I'm aware of each and every one of them—and thank you so much for your support! Honestly, reviews like yours are the reason I keep writing this. Even when it takes me forever. XD
To Guest Reviewer JelsaShipper: Thank you so much for your support—and, I'm sorry to hear that you've been having such a hard time in quarantine. This pandemic WILL end—and in the meantime, I'm really grateful that we can have a few minutes to lose ourselves in some fandom fun in the meantime. Stay safe!
To Guest Reviewer InsaneGoddess: You are formally invited to leave. PLEASE understand that I say this as a friend—because, if my writing is really so unbelievably offensive to you (I'm a little confused as to why you read the whole thing, if you hate it so much), I suggest for your sake that you stop reading now. I say this because we're only a handful of chapters away from the part where everything explodes I MEAN where—plot—things—happen. As usual, everything is well within PG-13/TV-14 ratings and the Law of Chastity, and I pray about every SINGLE thing I post (yes, there have been times that I have felt I needed to take something out, or occasionally even put something in), but if you're truly that sensitive to implied sexual content, you probably don't want to be here for the duration of this fanfiction.
(Rapunzel-related) SPOILER WARNING: There's a VERY brief reference to Rapunzel's Tangled Adventures in the first paragraph, that gives away a post-movie fact revealed about Eugene. (I have not seen the show, but I read the synopsis.) Be warned, if you don't want spoilers for the TV show!
CONTENT WARNING: Heavy sexual innuendo, as usual. Everything's well within PG-13, but… still.
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77: SMOLDER
Walking alone through the halls of Arendelle's castle, Eugene Fitzherbert couldn't help but feel like he'd won some sort of lottery. First, the girl he was in love with had turned out to be a princess. Castle number one. Then, he'd turned out to be a prince. Castle number two. Then, being royalty, family reunions now weren't just a thing, but a full-service royal-person tourism adventure. Castle number three. He could get used to this.
Yep. He was used to it.
Still, the sudden drop in temperature and tap on the shoulder took him by surprise.
"GAUGH!" Eugene startled into the air, whipping around in horror.
"Oh—uh, sorry," the white-haired young man said, dropping to the ground. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."
"Why, it's Jack Frost! Who is real!" Eugene laugh-sputtered, gasping for breath. "Jack Frost, who, like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and everybody else you've ever heard of, is apparently real! What can I do for you, Jack Frost?"
The Guardian smiled sheepishly, looking down and kicking at the carpet for a moment. Shifting his fingers on his shepherd's crook—which was currently resting back across his shoulder—he then looked up again. "Can I talk to you? For a minute?"
"Sure! What's up?"
Jack paused. Closing his eyes as if he were mustering his courage, he then sucked in his breath.
"I was wondering if I could—um," he whispered, still avoiding eye contact. "Ask you for—some advice."
"ADVICE?" Eugene proclaimed at the top of his lungs as he swung his hand to the side, "Why, of COURSE I can give Jack Frost advice! I have SO much advice; I have the BEST advice you'll ever—"
"—SHH! Will you keep it—!"
Jack's face flushed, his pale skin going red as he anxiously glanced around. Seeing a servant walking by at the end of the hall, he then looked back to Eugene.
The Spirit of Winter cocked his head to the side.
"Come on."
Eugene stuck his thumbs into his belt loops, his eyebrows lifting as he followed the young man down the hallway. At the first door, Jack Frost stopped, pressing his ear to the wood for a moment. Apparently hearing nothing, he tried the handle.
Clunk.
And it swung open.
Following the snow sprite into the room, Eugene looked around to realize that they were in some sort of parlor, or private family library. Not a FORMAL library, by any means, but a comfortable, living room-type of space, with a couch, a few tables covered with knick-knacks of various sorts, and an enormous fireplace. And most importantly, it was empty.
As the door swung softly swung shut behind them, closing with a cha-chunk, the Spirit of Winter turned around. Drumming his fingers on the staff—which was still resting back across his right shoulder—Jack Frost then swallowed, as if trying to gather his courage once again.
After a long, tense moment, Eugene dramatically pushed his fingers through his hair.
"Clearly, you are about to ask me for the SECRET of my hairstyle," he started, shattering the silence, "And you were right to come to me, Frosty. SOFT bangs, no sharp angles. VERY important. That's the secret. But, do NOT let Rapunzel cut it," he added, dropping his voice to a whisper, "Great artist. But bad idea."
Jack Frost jumped, caught completely off-guard by the statement. After a moment, he huffed a laugh of confusion, his shoulders naturally untensing as he did so.
"I—uh, actually haven't had to get my hair cut for a really long time," he admitted, staring at Eugene in bewilderment.
"How long is a—"
"—Let's just say a long time."
"Maybe that's why it sticks up so much on top," Eugene offered, tossing his head back and making his own hair fall softly to the side. "I get my hair cut every fifteen days. Sixteen days? NO bueno. It RUINS the shape."
"My hair always sticks up on top."
"Yes, yes. And so does Elsa's." Eugene stepped up to him, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Your future children are doomed in that respect, I'm afraid."
Jack Frost looked down to his feet.
Letting the silence fall again, Eugene turned around, inspecting a candy dish full of Christmas chocolates that was sitting beside them on an end table. Selecting one, he then popped it into his mouth. Aaaaand: amazing.
These Arendellians and their chocolates.
"Rapunzel was locked up her whole life," Jack blurted suddenly.
Eugene turned around, his eyebrows lifting in suprise. "Uh—pretty much, yeah." He let out his breath. "That Gothel lady was a monster. Why do you ask?"
The Guardian froze for a long moment, choosing his words. He shifted on his feet. "When she—um," he started carefully, "When you got her out—did she have any issues—adjusting? Like—to people?"
"Well, she doesn't deal well with curfews."
"That's not what I meant."
"Okay…?"
The winter spirit's face fell. Moving his fingers on the staff, he pulled in his breath.
"I mean—social skills. And relationships. And—stuff," Jack tried again, "Did you have any problems with convincing—okay. How'd you and Rapunzel get together?"
Eugene's breath caught. "Are you asking—for our Story?" he gasped.
"I guess," Jack sighed, pulling the staff down and letting its end fall into the carpet. "But I only need the short version, if—"
"—ONCE UPON A TIME," Eugene proclaimed dramatically, whirling away and bounding up onto the nearest couch, "There lived a daring, clever, unbelievably HANDSOME and charming young rogue named FLYNN RIDER. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor; to the less fortunate folks who REALLY needed it! A modern Robin Hood, if you will."
Leaning into his staff, a hint of a smirk twitched out of the side of the Spirit of Winter's mouth. "A modern Robin Hood?" He chuckled.
"But more attractive."
"I see." He drummed his fingers against the shepherd's crook. "And by… poor, less fortunate folks, are you talking about yoursel—"
"—ANYWAY," Eugene started again, jumping down from the sofa, "On a BEAUTIFUL sunny morning, our dashing hero, Flynn Rider—"
"—Can you just give me the first-person, please?"
"—IIIIIiiiiiieee had just completed an impressively complicated and DARING heist, and was on the run. Narrowly escaping my pursuers, I managed to break through into a picturesque glen, with only one solitary tower beckoning to me with safety in its wings!"
"Wings?"
"Stones. Bricks? No idea. Stop interrupting. So, I grabbed some arrows that totally hadn't been meant to hit me, scaled the wall, and got in. ALONE AT LAST. Except that it turned out to be the bedroom and generally multi-purpose living space, of a beautiful, slightly violent young woman—"
"—Waitwaitwait. You broke into her room?"
Eugene stopped talking. He shrugged. "Desperate times."
"I cannot. Believe," Jack Frost enunciated, "That anyone could do something so incredibly out of line."
"I was being chased, I saw a tower, and I climbed it. END OF STORY."
Jack raised his eyebrows, saying nothing as Eugene stalked away. And paused.
"Except NOT," Eugene suddenly added, spinning around. "Turns out, the girl was a total SPITFIRE. And she wanted to see the lantern thing the king and queen did every year. So, we struck a deal: Out of the INCREDIBLE kindness of my heart, I would be her tour guide! Flynn Ryder Tour Guide Package also included such additional services as protecting her from ruffians and thugs, coaching her when she began to doubt herself, generally being unbelievably handsome and charming, etc. etc."
"That was the deal?" Jack asked. "You'd just—do all of that, for her? Expecting nothing in return?"
"There may or may not have been a frying pan and/or evil horse involved. ANYWAY," he said, holding up his hand before Jack could protest, "The details aren't important. So, we got to the festival thing, had the most romantic date imaginable, The Adorable Couple was just about to kiss, and then—! BAD GUYS! Oh, no! Girl gets kidnapped! Boy gets captured! ALL WAS LOST!"
Jack's eyes widened as Eugene dramatically spun around, stumbling back like he was going to swoon. Facing his one-person audience once again, he then flipped back his hair, pulling in his breath.
"Luckily," Eugene continued, "Being the TOTALLY dashing and daring Prince Charming that I still currently am, I BROKE OUT OF JAIL!" he proclaimed, acting out the scene as he spoke, "Past the guards! Past the inmates! Straight onto his evil-horse-turned-noble-steed, Flynn Ryder was RIDING OFF TO RESCUE HER! You should've seen me! I was," he breathed as he touched his hand to his heart, "Extremely heroic."
"And you did this all by yourself?"
"Anyway, so I got to the tower. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair! Down comes the hair! Climbed the hair! Into the window, and I see Rapunzel, and then she STABS ME!"
"Rapunzel STABBED YOU!?" Jack startled.
"NO! Not her!" Eugene spun around, "Gothel! Creepy Evil Kidnapper Non-Mom! Rapunzel's captor. Very bad lady."
The snow sprite's expression relaxed with comprehension again, his eyes still wide at the story. Eugene nodded.
"So, Rapunzel made a deal to save me and go with Gothel, but before she could, I knew I had to save her, so—well, there was a shard of glass, and I was able to chop her magic hair off," he admitted, his voice growing a little softer, "Um, so Gothel freaked out, fell out the window to her death, Rapunzel cried, and it turns out that she can still save people with her tears. So… uh, I came back from the brink of death, confessions of love, kissing sequence, adorable ending, etc."
He crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging as he looked back to the winter spirit. Jack Frost let out a long, low whistle, his eyebrows lifting.
"Wow," Jack admitted. "That's—quite a story."
"Well, it wasn't exactly my normal Monday, if that's what you mean."
"Wait, what? MONDAY?" he sputtered, nearly dropping the staff, "This all happened in ONE DAY!?"
Seeing the betrayal clearly written across the Guardian's face, Eugene decided—at last—to put him out of his misery.
"So!" he chuckled at last. "You're having issues with Elsa!"
Jack Frost let out his breath. "Is it obvious?" he choked hesitantly.
Eugene raised his eyebrows.
Turning away and walking over to the couch, Eugene spun around and sat down. Leaning over to the end table beside him, he then with the base of an oil lamp.
"Well—go ahead, Frosty," he declared, grasping its twist-key of a knob. "What ails you, and your sweet, icy relationship with the Snow Queen? Tell Dr. Eugene all about it."
He twisted on the lamp.
Creak.
The flame shooting up inside the glass tube, the additional light in the room rendered the winter spirit's features to be even more pained, the anxiety behind his eyes even more prevalent than before. Gripping his shepherd's crook, Jack Frost pressed his lips together.
"It was all going GREAT until that other guy showed up," he blurted.
"'Going great?'" Eugene crossed his ankle over his opposite knee, interlacing his fingers and placing them on top."What do you mean?"
Jack swallowed hard. Gathering his courage, he looked up. "Elsa and I were practically engaged," he choked, "I mean—we had just had this incredible evening on the night before, and we were talking about marriage, and—"
"—And you proposed?"
Jack froze.
"Well—no," Jack admitted sheepishly.
"But, you guys were talking about getting married," Eugene pressed, "Like, you were setting dates, making plans, hiring florists, and the like?"
The Guardian looked instantly pained. "Not… exactly…"
"Actually, that's a good point. Scratch the florist. No florist should allow either ONE of you cutesy little winter spirits within fifty feet of their wares."
The Spirit of Winter blushed, staring at the ground without responding.
"Wait. Hold on," Eugene realized in disbelief, "Did you mean—that you were just talking about marriage, in general? That the idea of marrying each other never even came UP?"
"It was EXTREMELY romantic!" Jack protested, reaching up and frantically beginning to rub the back of his neck, "We'd built our beds really close together, and we were making out, and—"
"—So, even though you're not even boyfriend and girlfriend yet, you kinda discussed the general idea of marriage, and kissed," Eugene said, holding up his hand, "And you thought that meant you were ENGAGED?"
"It was really romantic!"
Eugene slapped his hand down onto the arm of the sofa, pushing himself up onto his feet. "Welp," he exhaled, "The good news is that I have a diagnosis."
Jack sighed. "And?" he prompted.
Eugene walked over to him, placing a reassuring hand onto the winter spirit's narrow shoulder.
"You're an idiot."
Jack scoffed. "Thanks, doctor," he enunciated, shoving him away.
"So, Elsa had no idea that you two were even—"
"—I've figured that out, okay?" Jack snapped, "I was working on that, but then this OTHER guy—I swear, Prince Wonderful shows up, and now Elsa's just anxious all the time!"
Eugene grinned. "Prince Wonderful, eh?" he chuckled.
The Guardian's gaze hardened, his expression suddenly ice cold. "Oh, yeah, he's great," he snarled, "TOTALLY not a red flag, how she comes back looking miserable after every time she's been with him." He shook his head, gesturing again with his staff and glaring down at the carpet. "All NOBLE and everything, deciding that he's going to court Elsa for the sake of his kingdom—oh, such a big sacrifice, to marry her and all, when he doesn't even have feelings for her! How he doesn't even see her as anything but a political pawn, how he's making it all about him, how he doesn't even APPRECIATE—!"
Flurries of snow were now silently materializing out of the air around him, sparkling in the lamplight as they floated towards the ground. Gritting his teeth, the Spirit of Winter huffed again in barely-contained fury.
"Doesn't even like ICE," he gritted.
He shook his head again, gripping the staff. Seeing the snow sprite's murderous expression, Eugene's eyebrows lifted.
"And that's—"
"—He doesn't even like ICE! And with Elsa, it—that she's actually CONSIDERING—!"
The Spirit of Winter cut himself off again, all but actually wringing his hands. Exhaling sharply, he then shoved his fingers into his hair, visibly fighting against the fact that his eyes were blurring.
"Elsa has to make her own choices. And I get that," Jack Frost choked, his voice breaking with emotion as he ripped his hand back out, "I do. Really. But if everybody expects me to just stand here and SMILE while she ruins her own life—!"
He shook his head.
"I don't even think Elsa likes this guy," Jack continued, "Every time she's been with him, she comes back looking sad. And confused. But it's like she's convincing herself that she HAS to marry him anyway, even though—I'm trying as hard as I can, but—I don't know." He gulped. "I don't get it."
Falling quiet once again, the Fifth Guardian let out his breath, dropping the end of the staff into the carpet and sinking into it.
Snowflakes beginning to pile up into a thin layer of frost on the carpet, Eugene just stared. It was all he could do.
He had to admit that—yes—Elsa had been acting completely infatuated with Jack. And he'd known that his wife's cousin had a serious knack for making things complicated, but… this was bad.
And, he'd known it was bad. But he'd had no idea that it was THIS bad.
"Okay… um," Eugene started, making Jack look up, "Not that the extreme pleasure of watching you crash and burn hasn't been the highlight of my visit to Arendelle so far, but… uh, I can't help but wonder…"
Jack Frost's eyebrows lifted. Standing a little straighter, he then leveled his gaze to Eugene's, his silence prompting for him to continue.
"If Elsa's really giving you so much trouble…" Eugene asked carefully. "Why are you sticking around?"
The Spirit of Winter paused.
After a few moments—his face turning a bit pink—the Guardian's expression softened, a hesitant hint of a smile on the edge of his features.
"She's an ice powers girl," he admitted softly.
Eugene's forehead crinkled. "And… you think that makes her your only option?"
"Well—maybe. But that's not it. It's…"
Jack Frost's voice trailed off. After a few moments, his face fell.
"It's complicated," he choked.
"Kinda picking up on that."
"It's more than just the ice powers, but with the ice powers—she just—gets it!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, "Elsa's so GOOD with ice—I love making stuff with her, and playing, and—well, I just don't have to worry about it. You know, being too cold, or too slippery or whatever."
"So, the ice powers ARE important to you."
"I never thought I'd find a woman who would could—understand," he said, "And Elsa actually DOES. She can keep up with me! I mean, I know that the whole 'soulmate mentality' thing is pretty toxic, but—when am I ever going to find THAT again?"
Eugene considered this for a long moment, tilting his head to the side. "Yeeeeah," he said at last, eying the winter spirit's brilliant white hair and frost-dusted clothing, "Pretty sure that normal rules don't apply, here."
The winter spirit let out a breathy laugh, nodding. "Not to mention," he admitted shyly, "There's the—um, physical compatibility, too. I can't pretend that isn't important."
A look of confusion swept over Eugene's face. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just say that most ladies aren't exactly lining up for the chance to sleep next to a breathing icicle."
Letting his staff fall back to rest against his shoulder as he stood, the winter spirit casually flicked open his hand, a burst of snowflakes materializing and dancing over his palm. Shooting Eugene a bitter grin, he then closed his fist again, grasping the shepherd's crook and turning away.
"Not that it matters," Jack muttered, as if on an afterthought as he walked over to the nearest end table, perhaps to look for a distraction form the conversation. "Most women have a tendency to see straight through me, anyway."
"Ahhh!" Eugene laughed, "THAT feeling!"
As Jack Frost turned back around, and Eugene startled. Standing as still as a statue, the Guardian was suddenly gazing directly into his eyes, his death glare as icy and terrifying as all the intensity of a winter storm.
Sweet GLORY.
Eugene cleared his throat.
"So… she can physically tolerate sleeping with you," he started again awkwardly, "Perhaps not the most romantic reasoning, but it makes sense. Now, would this all be part of your begging process, or—"
"—No, no, no! You don't understand!" Jack protested, his expression softening with desperation again, "It's not even a toleration thing! It's not just that Elsa doesn't mind the cold; she actually LIKES it. She could—"
He cut himself off, clearly struggling with the words. He leaned in an inch towards Eugene.
"She could like me," Jack Frost choked.
The silence fell again as they stared into each other's eyes. Eugene chewed on the inside of his cheek.
"Not gonna lie here, Frosty. It's kinda starting to feel like your motivations are half desperate, and the other half, REALLY desperate," he admitted. "And, I REALLY hope you bring this up with her. Maybe on a greeting card. Or a valentine! You can PHYSICALLY STAND me, Valentine!"
Jack scoffed, kneading his eyebrows. "The woman wears ice, Eugene."
"Well, yeah, but not on her skin. There's GOT to be something underneath."
"No! There isn't!" Jack sputtered, pulling down his hand, "It's just ice! All the way down to her panties, it's ice! ALL of it! Elsa wears ice, just… all the way…!"
The Youngest Guardian's gaze wandered away from Eugene's, his voice trailing off. His eyes glazing over, he bit his fist as he huffed another breathy giggle of disbelief. Smiling dazedly as he shook his head, the Spirit of Winter appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating.
Wow.
Eugene raised a single eyebrow.
"And… how… do you know that?" he asked slowly.
The snow sprite jolted, startling back into the present. "I—huh?" he stammered.
Eugene raised his eyebrows a millimeter farther.
His cheeks turning bright red, Jack Frost opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Shifting on his feet, he then cleared his throat.
"She—told me," he choked hesitantly.
Eugene's head tilted slightly to the side.
"Queen Elsa—told you," he repeated.
The Spirit of Winter looked abruptly uncomfortable, suddenly very interested in the carpet.
Eugene dramatically pulled in his breath.
"Why, oh why, do I not believe yo—"
"—It was an ACCIDENT, okay?!" Jack broke suddenly, jerking away, "I didn't mean to! I'd NEVER walk in on her on purpose!"
Eugene's eyes bulged. "You WALKED IN on—"
"—ACCIDENTALLY! And then Elsa was just standing there, and she had her hair down, and ice, and it was—and," he choked, gesturing helplessly across his chest, "All see-through, and icy, and—soft—!"
The Youngest Guardian blushed furiously, now in pain. Dropping the staff and letting it fall to the floor with a faint thump, he stumbled back a few steps, collapsing onto the couch and burying his face in his hands.
Snow flurries materializing out of the air above them, Jack Frost cringed, continuing to blush without speaking. Watching the snow sprite, Eugene's eyebrows lifted again.
"You have given this—a lot of thought," he said.
The Spirit of Winter hesitantly looked up from his hands. His eyes watering—and still not quite making eye contact with Eugene—he swallowed hard.
"Pretty," he whimpered.
Falling quiet once again, he miserably looked back down, kicking at the carpet.
"Oooooh… okay," Eugene realized. "Because you already had a crush on her before—right?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah," he choked.
The Spirit of Winter nodded again, and Eugene huffed in disbelief. Blushing furiously, Jack kneaded his eyebrows, almost like he was trying to rub out the memory itself. Or perhaps clarify it.
The kid was a wreck.
"Well, Frosty, I can see why your last two brain cells are throwing in the towel," Eugene offered with a good-natured chuckle, stepping up to the couch. "I mean, if Elsa was really as 'icy' and 'soft' as you AUGH!"
The Guardian sprang to his feet, aiming the staff straight at Eugene's heart with barely-contained murderous fury in his eyes. Eugene threw his hands in the air, his eyes bulging.
"WHOA! Settle down there, Frosty!" Eugene laughed nervously, starting to push the end of the staff to the side. "Not trying to insult your lady friend!"
"YOU DON'T THINK OF HER THAT WAY!"Jack bellowed, snapping it back into place.
"I—WASN'T! I was, LITERALLY, just repeating what you said!"
Jack Frost hesitated.
His grip on the staff slackening by the tiniest bit, his eyes narrowed, studying Eugene's face.
"You don't think of her that way," Jack quavered, his aim faltering slightly.
"NoooOOoo!" Eugene frantically shook his head, his hands still in the air. "You want to know my honest feelings?" he reiterated, leaning forward slightly and staring into the Guardian's eyes. "I'm—really more into sunshine."
Jack Frost's expression shifted, his eyes wide. As the words slowly sank in, Eugene carefully pulled in his breath.
"And—not—freezing—to death," he added, gingerly pushing the shepherd's crook all the way to the side.
This time, Jack didn't move it back into place. Looking thoroughly embarrassed, he swallowed hard.
"Really?" he asked softly.
"Really!"
"You're sure."
"I'm pretty certain that the whole 'sexy ice clothes' thing appeals to you, and ONLY you, good sir," Eugene said. "If the Spirit of Winter likes his lady to have a bunch of snowflakes up her dress, it's not really any business of mine."
Jack flinched, his cheeks crimson. With a self-conscious laugh, the snow sprite then shook his head, reaching up with his free hand and rubbing the back of his neck. "That's not even the problem," he groaned, sitting back down on the couch.
"Problem? Now it's a problem?" Eugene chuckled, "Look, just because you're into it, it doesn't mean that Elsa's being—"
"—Eugene, I can melt ice."
Jack Frost hesitantly looked up to meet Eugene's gaze, his own tortured. As the statement sat upon the air, Eugene's eyes bulged in slow comprehension.
"Oooooh," he realized, starting to laugh, "Because—because if you accidentally—"
"—Yeah."
To demonstrate, the Spirit of Winter held up his hand, pressing his middle finger against his palm.
Snap.
He raised his eyebrows as the explanation.
Eugene's eyes bulged. "Wait—you mean you can just—"
Jack nodded, his face filled with pain. Eugene clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes lighting up with delight as he snorted.
"She—oh, ho," he guffawed, "OOOOOH, boy, that is a BAD position to be in right now! That's amazing; that is REALLY—"
The Guardian's expression had once again hardened into an Antarctica-level death glare.
"That's—um," Eugene corrected quickly. "That's unfortunate."
Nodding, he coughed into his fist. After a few more moments of tense silence, Eugene then raised his eyebrows.
"She'd murder you," he offered reassuringly.
His elbows on his knees, Jack Frost let his head drop forward into his hands. "I'd respect that," he choked.
"But you've thought about it."
"Of COURSE I've thought about it!" Jack hissed, snapping his head up again, "I try not to, but—I can't seem to get it out of my head! To get her out of my head! Do you have ANY idea of the level of discipline—of self-control—!?"
"Because you think her ice panties are hot."
"Because—!"
The snow sprite cut himself off, blushing furiously. Shoving his fingers into his hair, he then stood up from the seat, beginning to pace.
"It's not just physical. I swear," Jack choked, "It's not just the ice powers thing. It's HER. She's so sweet, and so smart, and—and her ideas, and she's so PASSIONATE about everything, it just—I really love being with her. She gets it. She gets ME. I mean, I know it sounds corny, but I just—!"
Eugene watched in wonder as the Guardian's voice trailed off. Standing next to the sofa again, the winter spirit then collapsed into it, his white hair falling forward as he looked down to his hands.
"It's like we were made for each other," he choked softly.
With a deflated sigh, Jack Frost turned his hands over in his lap. As a soft sparkle of flurries began falling around him from over his head, a cluster of snowflakes lifted from his palms, dancing over his hands while he silently watched.
An unexpected swell of empathy swept over Eugene. This guy wasn't just pursuing some sort of short-term hookup, or anything—which of course was problematic all on its own. No… this was different. And Eugene Fitzherbert knew that look.
He knew that look, because he'd once worn it himself.
"She's your dream," Eugene realized out loud.
Jack Frost didn't respond.
"This isn't just a lust thing for you," Eugene said again, taking a step towards the snow sprite. "You actually want Elsa. For who she is."
The winter spirit swallowed. Nodding, he pulled in a shaky breath.
"I just love her so much," Jack whispered.
Eugene gave his head a single nod as well. "And you want to be with her forever," he said softly.
The Spirit of Winter nodded, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands. Snow flurries silently falling around him, he stared down at his feet.
"And," Eugene added, "To rip off her clothes and bed her as quickly as possible."
"That WOULD BE NICE."
Jack laughed in shock, blushing and grinning in embarrassment as he looked up. The tension of the moment broken, Eugene grinned good-naturedly.
"Winter Spirit Boy has a thing for Winter Spirit Girl," he shrugged, thumbing his belt. "Not exactly a surprise. But you might want to try freaking out a little bit less about the whole—ah, physically compatible mate element."
Jack kneaded his eyebrows. "I know, I know."
"It's a tad creepy."
"I know."
"More than a tad."
"I—"
"—Like, an INSANE amount. Kind of in the category of disturbing, bordering on morbid obsession if—"
"—THANK YOU, Eugene," Jack said loudly, getting to his feet again and kicking the staff into his hands. "I tell you, I'm trying not to think about it. I'm trying SO hard, but—it doesn't matter. doesn't matter what I do. I'm trying SO HARD to be respectful, to NOT be a creep, but then, every time I close my eyes—! I swear, it's like my DREAMS are mocking me. And I—"
Jack Frost suddenly stopped talking.
A strange, indiscernible expression crept over his face. His mouth hanging open an inch, the winter spirit then huffed in disbelief, clearly putting puzzle pieces together in his mind, his eyes narrowing beneath furrowed eyebrows as he stared off to the side.
"What?" Eugene laughed, "What is it? You look like somebody just took a blowtorch to your snowman."
The Guardian of Fun scoffed, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. It's just this—colleague of mine," he spat, grinning bitterly as his lip curled around the word. "The next time I see him, I need to remember to punch him in the face."
They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment.
"Be advised that I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Eugene stated, "But, I think I've got the gist of the issue. Overwhelming sexual tension, infatuated obsession, wanting to die… this is serious business, Frosty!"
"Wanting to die?" Jack stammered, "I didn't say that I—"
"—Ah, but you DID!" Eugene proclaimed, clapping a hand to the young man's shoulder. "And serious business calls for serious action! Have you tried… a Smolder?
A look of confusion swept over Jack's face. "A smolder? What's a smolder?"
HEE HEE!
"Well!" Eugene exclaimed. "Allow me to demonstrate."
"You really don't have t—"
"—No, no! I must."
Turning on his heel, Eugene looked around the room. Seeing a single padded chair on the far wall, he then confidently strode over to it to pick it up.
"Although, I must warn you," he called over his shoulder, "The Smolder has been known to have… some unintentional side effects. For other men, that is."
The Spirit of Winter huffed a laugh. "I don't think we're going to need to worry about that," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "I'm into women."
Eugene sighed, shaking his head as he pulled up the chair and turned the backrest to face the snow sprite. "Well. Then prepare to question your sexuality, Frost," he shrugged, tossing his leg over the seat to straddle it, folding his arms across the backrest. Pulling in his breath, he let his head fall forward. "Here comes… The Smolder."
And Eugene looked up.
His bangs falling softly onto either side of his face, Eugene gazed deeply into Jack Frost's eyes, his eyes carefully half-squinted. Pursing his lips, he arched one eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter higher than the other, a delicately-constructed asymmetry complimenting the ever-so-slight tilt of his head. Both pleading and coaxing, it was a carefully-constructed expression that Eugene Fitzherbert knew looked…
Delicious.
They stared at each other for a long moment of silence.
Jack Frost exhaled loudly.
"Yeah, so…. I'm into… women," he enunciated once again, his eyebrow twitching. "But thanks for the—"
"—Nuh nuh nuh! Yuh have tuh give it a minnud! Give id a minnud!"
The Spirit of Winter stuck his free hand into his hoodie pocket, drumming his opposite fingers on the staff and staring, visibly bored, into Eugene's eyes. Eugene maintained the smolder.
"Drink. Id in," he added through his still-pursed lips.
Jack scoffed. "This is stupid."
"What? No!" Eugene blurted, dropping the expression as his eyebrows shot up, "Do not doubt the power of the smolder!"
"I need something that will work on Elsa."
"It DOES work!" Eugene stood from his seat, pulling his leg over and tossing his hair back. "All ladies understand… The Smolder."
"Not all of them."
"Well, maybe yours needs work, then."
"I don't really have a smolder."
"Oh, come on. SURE you do," Eugene pressed, walking up to him, "It's just—the face! The face you make when you're hitting on someone."
The Spirit of Winter looked abruptly uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet, tossing the staff between his hands almost like he was trying to hide behind it.
"Well," he admitted reluctantly, "I guess it's… if I really think about it, I kind of have a smirk tha—"
"—A SMIRK!" Eugene proclaimed triumphantly, throwing his hand into the air.
After a few moments, he twisted his lips to the side, his arm faltering. Pulling it down, Eugene cocked his head back and forth.
"Doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but we'll make it work," he declared. Eugene then beamed, clapping his hands together. "Okay! Show me: The Smirk! In three… two…!"
The Guardian hesitated.
Opening his mouth and then closing it again, Jack Frost once again shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
A look of confusion swept over Eugene's face. "What? What's the holdup?" he asked.
The snow sprite scoffed, avoiding eye contact. He reached up and started rubbing the back of his neck.
"You're a guy," Jack blurted.
Eugene shrugged. "So?"
"I don't smirk at guys."
"Fair enough," Eugene said, "But for right now, I'm not a guy. I'm Elsa."
"You are not."
"Oh, come on."
"Kinda the wrong shape."
"Frosty, do you like this woman?"
Jack froze.
His eyes wide, he stopped rubbing his neck. Still avoiding eye contact—and pulling his hand down, sticking it into his front pocket—the Spirit of Winter exhaled slowly, letting his head drop forward.
And he looked up.
One eyebrow arched a fraction of an inch higher than the other, Jack Frost gazed up at Eugene through his eyelashes, his eyes slightly narrowed in something between intense concentration and a laugh. His lips pressed together naturally into a knowing little smirk—hardly visible, but unmistakably there, as if it were a suggestion that he needed no invitation, because he knew he was about to be handed one. The piercing gaze, combined with this smirk, was clearly meant to be both a challenge and a lure.
Well, then.
Eugene's eyebrows lifted in surprise. Score point, for the Spirit of Winter.
Frosty's got GAME.
Schooling his expression, Eugene Fitzherbert dramatically exhaled, scratching his chin and pretending to scrutinize Jack's face. Shrugging, he then tilted his head to the side.
"Hmm… not bad," Eugene started. "I mean—don't get me wrong. It's not as good as mine, but—"
"—WHAT?"
"It's okay, Frosty," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, "You can't compare yourself to a professional."
"Professional!?" Jack balked as Eugene resumed his Smolder again, "What are you TALKING about? Like, what is that? What are you even doing with your lips!?"
"They're kithible lipth," Eugene said through them, squinting and turning his head slightly. "For kithing. Very kithible."
"You look like you've got a bee sting."
"Now, that's just hurtful. You know, maybe if you didn't bend your head so far forward—"
"—What's wrong with how I bend my head?"
"You're not tall enough to pull it off. And it should be tilted a little more to the side. I would recommend about 20 degrees or so. Like—"
As the Spirit of Winter froze, Eugene stepped up and placed his hands on either side of Jack's face. He tilted it to the left.
"Like this," Eugene beamed.
Frozen, Jack Frost looked abruptly uncomfortable again, but didn't move away. He looked up at Eugene in confusion.
"Uh…" he started awkwardly. "Why…?"
"Symmetrical faces are more attractive, but nobody has a perfectly symmetrical face. Therefore, if your head is slightly tilted, it gives the impression that, hey, your face is DEFINITELY more symmetrical, but you're just looking at it from an angle. WAY harder to discern the geometry."
The Spirit of Winter continued to stare at Eugene, completely baffled.
"I think you might be over-complicating this," he whispered.
"NONSENSE! Smolder is a science! A science in which I am EXTREMELY accomplished."
"And this worked on Rapunzel?"
"Let's not talk about that."
"Uh—"
"—The CLOCK IS TICKING, Frosty! There's no time to lose!" Eugene commanded, clapping his hands together, "Chop chop! NOW… Tilt head, nod slightly, sweep hair to side, narrow eyes, lift single eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter higher than the other, purse lips, intense gaze, and: SMOLDER!"
Looking distinctly uncomfortable, the snow sprite obeyed, his entire stance rigid. With an unnatural, forced amount of a something contorting his facial muscles, he awkwardly squinted up at Eugene through tiny flurries of snowflakes in the silence.
Eugene Fitzherbert pulled in his breath.
"Okay. I think I've gotta backtrack a bit here," he decided. "You're not ready for the Smolder. Stick with the Smirk."
Jack dropped the expression, his face relaxing. "That wasn't it?"
"Well, it's—it's something, alright," Eugene said, scratching his chin, "If I were to rank it on a scale, I'd say it falls sooooomewhere in between who's-your-daddy aaaaaaaaand… constipation. But NOT TO WORRY!" he added quickly, throwing his hands up as Jack jumped to protest, "We've got at LEAST the rest of today to—"
"—You know, maybe I don't NEED your Smolder."
Eugene stopped.
Slowly turning towards the winter spirit, his left eyebrow shot up.
"Excuse me?" he breathed. "Do mine ears deceive me? Did you just say that you don't need my Smolder?"
"For how things were going with Elsa, I think that my Smirk was doing just fine," Jack Frost said again, sticking his thumb into his front pocket and throwing his shoulders back. "In fact, I think my Smirk might even be more effective than your Smolder."
"OH, ho!" Eugene sputtered, a threatening edge on his voice, "DANGEROUS waters, you are swimming in!"
"Oh, yeah?"
"My Smolder cannot be compared to other game faces. My Smolder, dear boy, is the STANDARD by which other game faces are to be MEASURED!"
"Well, perhaps that standard needs a little updating."
"With what?" Eugene scoffed, "Your Smirk?"
"Yeah!" Jack challenged, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "With my Smirk!"
"Smolder DESTROYS Smirk!"
"I say, Smirk destroys Smolder!"
"OH, it is on!"
"Is that a challenge?"
"Are you scared?"
"Are you?"
A tight silence fell over the room as Jack Frost and Eugene Fitzherbert stood before each other, sharing an intense, long glare.
"Bring it," Jack whispered.
Both boys let their heads nod forward at the same time.
And they looked up.
With enough crackling sexual tension to bring electricity to the castle, Jack Frost and Eugene Fitzherbert gazed deeply into each other's eyes, challenging and unblinking. Each straining as hard as he could to appear to not be straining, the young men stood their ground, feet planted, expressions unwavering, and with all the piercing intensity of two starving sewer rats standing at equal distance from the last hunk moldy hunk of mozzarella.
Jack twitched his lips to the left.
Eugene let his hair fall towards his eyes.
Jack bowed his head.
Eugene pursed his lips.
Jack peered through his eyelashes.
Eugene tilted his face.
Jack smirked.
Eugene smoldered.
Kristoff stood in the now-open doorway, watching the scene unfold and looking equally baffled and horrified.
"Have I—uhhhh," he started slowly, beginning to step into the room. "Missed—something—or—?"
"KRISTOFF!" Jack shrieked, startling into the air, "We weren't—I wasn't—isn't—!"
The snow sprite huffed an awkward laugh of embarrassment as he touched back down, frantically shaking his head and gesturing. Eugene Fitzherbert beamed, walking up to him and placing a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder.
"Ah! Frosty," he said, touching his other hand to his heart. "Don't deny your feelings for me."
The Youngest Guardian elbowed him off so hard that Eugene had to stumble two steps to the side to keep his balance.
Kristoff laughed. "And I guess that settles it," he said, "With all the drama going on already…"
"We were just having a little heart-to-heart about Frosty's girl problems," Eugene explained, shrugging in Jack's direction.
"Yeah, I figured. Whatever you do, though, I suggest you do it fast," King Kristoff told them, his voice quieter as he looked into the Guardian's eyes. "They've scheduled Elsa to have dinner with Prince Frederik again tonight."
Jack stiffened. His lips pressed tightly together, he looked down to the carpet as Eugene thumbed his belt.
"Well, Frosty?" he asked, "The challenge thickens! What's your next move?"
"As long as it's not another necklace," Kristoff added, shooting the snow sprite a pointed look.
Jack Frost's face flushed. "Yeah…"
"Wait. Hold up," Eugene started. "I love the knowing looks and strangely cryptic conversation just as much as the next guy, but—context? Por favor?"
"Snowmeo here's got a little something called Fun Magic in his superpowers wheelhouse," King Kristoff explained, folding his arms over his chest as he nodded in Jack's direction. "And he thought it'd be a good idea to try it out on Elsa. Via magic necklace."
Jack Frost anxiously started rubbing the back of his neck. "She had a bit—um," he choked, "Of a—reaction—"
"—He got Elsa drunk."
"She wasn't drunk!"
"Mind control?!" Eugene sputtered, "I mean, everybody knows about the ice powers, and then there's the flight, and frankly, I'm too scared to ask about the invisibility, but—Jack Frost has MIND CONTROL powers, now?!"
His blush deepened. "It's not really—mind control," Jack laughed self-consciously, "It's just—it makes people forget their worries for a bit. So they can have a little fun. I thought Elsa—I—"
His voice trailed off. His voice a squeak as he pulled his hand down from his neck again to place it on the staff, the Youngest Guardian pulled in his breath.
"I was trying to help," he whispered.
Squeezing his eyes shut, the Spirit of Winter leaned his forehead against the staff.
Eugene raised his eyebrows.
"Soooo…" he drawled. "A really gentle form of mind control."
Jack sighed. "I guess," he admitted.
"Jack Frost has mind control now."
Kristoff huffed, a smirk on the edge of his lips as he nodded slowly. Jack kicked at the carpet.
"And everybody's gonna just gloss over that," Eugene deadpanned.
"You'd think it would come up more often."
Finally cracking a bitter smile, Jack loosened his grip on the staff, dropping his head back. "I don't know what to do, though," he groaned. "I feel like she likes me, and then she'll suddenly change her mind, and then I try to back off, and then she's back, and I—" He stopped, huffing a laugh and avoiding Kristoff's gaze. "I feel like I'm dealing with a—a scared kitten, sometimes."
King Kristoff snorted. "Don't let her hear you say that," he chuckled darkly.
"But it's TRUE! Oh, you like me? You want to be close to me?" the Guardian started, softening his voice and bending down like he was talking to a cat, "Okay, sounds good, I'm AND you hate me now. Okay, now you're being shy again, but you're clearly still hanging around me… I promise I won't hurt you… please stop freaking out… HERE, ELSA…"
Eugene by this point had burst out laughing uncontrollably, and could hear that Kristoff was breaking as well. Jack Frost stopped, smiling in spite of himself at the other's shared guffawing, clearly aware of the sheer absurdity of it all.
Especially after the Summer Freeze, it had never even OCCURRED to Eugene to think of Queen Elsa as being anything other than Terrifying Super-Powerful Ice Lady Who Could Kill You. Meanwhile… the equally-powerful Spirit of Winter saw a kitten.
Only you, Frosty.
"But I just don't get it!" Jack was saying again, breathless with desperation, "She's so smart, and—I don't think she's trying to PLAY anything. She's not like that. It's like she's just—scared, for some reason. Even though I'm pretty sure she at least likes me."
"What do you mean?" Eugene pressed, "How so? I mean, besides the blushing and the touching and giggling and the shyness and the lingering stares of burning, icy desire, and such."
The Spirit of Winter rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He drummed his fingers on the staff for a few moments.
"Well—she's affectionate," he offered. "Like—very affectionate."
As Jack's expression softened—a hint of a dreamy smile of his lips—Eugene shrugged.
"Meow," he offered.
Jack snapped his head up. "That's not what I—!"
Eugene laughed and Kristoff snorted, Jack self-consciously shoving his fingers into his hair.
"Come on. Think," Kristoff prodded. "What does Elsa like?"
Jack shifted on his feet. "Well," he mumbled, "She likes it when I speak French."
"Okay, so—"
"—But that feels dumb."
Kristoff raised his eyebrows, exchanging glances with Eugene. Saying nothing, they turned back to where Jack was standing, the snow sprite staring at the floor and looking sheepish.
"I want her to be able to understand me," Jack admitted quietly.
Eugene shrugged. "That's fair," he said. "What else?"
"She likes dancing."
"Wait, what? No," Kristoff interjected, shaking his head, "Elsa doesn't dance."
Jack Frost looked up in confusion. "She dances with me," he said.
King Kristoff's eyes bulged. "Really."
"And she was into it?" Eugene pressed, "Smiling, laughing, the occasional girlish giggle, etc?"
"I think so," Jack realized, "I mean—she wanted to keep going, even after I thought she'd be too tired, and she would just kind of relax into my arms, and…"
His voice trailed off. Kristoff exchanged a glance of disbelief with Eugene, to which Eugene grinned.
"Well, maybe do that, then!" he exclaimed, "See, this is what you should be going for. You know she's into it, it's cute, it's romantic, and best of all," Eugene added, clapping his hand onto Jack Frost's shoulder as he leaned in close, "It's not. WEIRD."
Jack blushed, laughing self-consciously again. He looked to Kristoff. "You said she's booked for dinner," he said, "But it's only early afternoon, now. Do you have any idea when the girls are getting back?"
"Judging by the time? They should be back already," Kristoff shrugged, "Knowing how the pregnancy's going, they're probably in the private library to let Anna lie down, an—"
"—The private library?" Jack blurted, leaping into the air.
"WHOA, there! Cleansing breaths, Frosty," Eugene laughed as Jack Frost spun around in the air, "You have to make your move, but you probably don't want to come off as—"
BANG!
Jack Frost blasted through the door in a gust of wind, darting into the hallway and out of sight.
"Desperate," Eugene finished.
Standing for a long moment as the door swung shut, he looked to Kristoff.
"I'm feeling like we should go after him," Eugene said.
King Kristoff snorted. "Probably for the best."
"Any shortcuts? I mean, not that I don't LOVE a good chance to watch dear little Jack Frost crash and burn, but—well, we would need to actually beat him there."
Kristoff shook his head. As they walked to the door, he pulled it open. "Not necessary," he chuckled.
Eugene thought about this for a few moments. Finally, it occurred to him.
"He went the wrong way, didn't he?" he asked, following Kristoff out of the room.
"Yup."
Oh, Frosty.
A minute or so later, Kristoff and Eugene arrived outside the doors of the private library just a few moments before a gust of icy winter air blew past them in the hallway. Turning around, Eugene saw a deflated-looking Jack Frost drop to the floor.
"It's—um," the Guardian mumbled, his face red. "It's here."
"Yup." Kristoff nodded, stepping back and gesturing.
Avoiding eye contact, Jack Frost stepped forward, grasping the door handle and depressing it.
Ka-CHUNK.
"They seemed to REALLY like the last story you were telling, Elsa," Eugene recognized Rapunzel's voice saying as the Spirit of Winter leapt into the air and darted into the room, "Are you hoping that they'll all start believing if—"
"—ELSA!" Jack blurted.
"—AUGH!"
Elsa startled back as he suddenly dropped down to the floor again beside her, his face flushed.
"Hi," Jack gasped.
"Oh—Jack!" the Snow Queen realized, stumbling back a step, "Heavens! You scared m—"
"—Are you doing anything right now?"
Queen Elsa instinctively shied back another inch as he stepped into her space, his gaze pleading. Completely unaware of his surroundings, and of Elsa's obvious discomfort, the now starry-eyed Jack Frost gently picked up her hands, snowflakes falling around them.
The fact that the snow was almost certainly generated by Elsa's anxiety made it a tad less romantic, but Eugene decided that the Guardian's expression was pathetic enough to render the awkwardness about even.
"Oh! I—um," Elsa stammered, blushing, "I—I think I'm free. Until tonight, at least, I—"
She cut herself off, looking to her sister. The room impressively still, Queen Anna—her eyes narrowed slightly at Jack—crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't think you have anything scheduled this afternoon," the pregnant young queen offered carefully, shooting her sister a suspicious, meaningful look that she definitely did not pick up on, "I mean, unless you can think of anything tha—"
"—I can't," Elsa blurted.
Eugene's eyebrows lifted.
From across the room, his gaze locked with Rapunzel's. She was smiling hopefully, with just a hint of concern, her eyes bouncing between his own and the snow sprites in the center of the room. With the Guardian still holding her hands, Elsa was visibly relaxing into him, no longer shying away from the sudden closeness.
Huh… maybe Jack Frost was right.
Maybe he didn't need a Smolder.
After a long moment of reconsidering his life, Eugene suppressed a snort, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin.
Naaaah.
"You do have that dinner with Prince Frederik, though," King Kristoff stated, looking at Elsa, "When is that?"
Her face fell. "Oh—um," she sighed, biting her lip, "It's at seven, I—"
"—I'll have you back by then," Jack blurted.
Queen Elsa jumped, looking back up into his eyes.
"Six-thirty," Jack pleaded. "Or earlier, if—"
"—Six-thirty works."
They both fell quiet, staring into each other's eyes. With Jack holding Elsa's hands in his own, gently rubbing his thumb over her skin, the two winter spirits were suddenly in a world of their own, dazedly oblivious to the presence of everyone else in the room.
"I thought we could go dancing," Jack said softly.