*AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody! Thank you again for everyone that wrote reviews! I will admit that I've basically memorized each word from all of you by this point-you can't know how much your kind words have meant to me!

Anyhow, I'm writing this note to let you know that school-etc-has started up for me, which means that the time I had in the first couple weeks of this fanfic just disintegrated. I'll do what I can-I can't believe that people are actually reading this and wanting the next chapters; hooray!-but I probably can only get out about a chapter a week from here on out. Just to let you know.

Also, this chapter is another reason this is rated T, for what I can only describe as "extreme innuendo." I had WAY too much fun writing this one. Have a lovely day!

CONTENT WARNING: Yeah, like I said... extreme innuendo. ;)

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23: NOT A HUMMINGBIRD

When Elsa opened her eyes on the following morning, she had felt a wave of disappointment rush over her when she didn't see Jack.

After a moment of sitting straight up in the bed, her covers pulled up tightly over her chest, she slouched back down, leaning against the headboard with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Of course Jack had left. He probably had other things to do, himself, or had gotten bored. Or had other women to visit.

Pretty self-flattering to think he'd actually spend the whole night here, Elsa scolded herself, looking around the empty room. He IS Jack Frost, after all. And he probably has a LOT of girlfriends, for all that sweet talk. I should just be grateful that he was gracious enough to stay until I fell asleep…

Feeling embarrassed at herself as a pang of jealousy hit her in the chest, the Fifth Spirit sat up again, throwing back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Reaching over to her nightstand, she delicately picked up the ice rose, still cold and perfect from two nights before. She may or may not have added a bit of her own non-melting magic to it. Whether or not he had gone off to see someone else that evening, she still couldn't bring herself to think of the rose not being there on her nightstand. She was so attached to it, already. It was… well, it was from Jack Frost, that's what it was.

Jack. FROST.

Oh, my.

Her inner fangirl dissolving into a helpless fit of giggles, Elsa smiled, her heart swelling as she placed the ice rose back on her nightstand. She hadn't slept so well since… well, ever, she realized as she stood up from the bed, walking towards the window in the last remaining moonlight of pre-dawn and the shimmering colors of the Northern Lights. She'd had the most wonderful dreams…

Maybe the Sandman was really real, just like Jack had said. She'd tried believing it for the night, and apparently, it had worked. She'd have to remember to try it again the next night. At this point, given the events of the last few days, she was willing to believe almost anything.

But for now, it was morning, and Elsa was the queen. Whether or not Jack had left, it was time to get to work.

She closed the curtains, pacing over in the sudden darkness and feeling the dresser for her lamp. Twisting the brass handle, the flame shot up inside of the glass tubing, and she took a step back, seeing her own image in the mirror, her hair loose of her shoulders, her makeup still completely cried off from the night before. After brushing some more violet powder onto her eyelids, she stepped back again, eying her deep purple nightgown.

Elsa looked in the mirror thoughtfully. Today felt like another sheath dress day. She didn't feel like cleavage was a good idea, though—the events of the previous afternoon were still lingering, despite trying everything in her power to push them from her mind. The experience was so surreal… almost like it was a horrible nightmare, that couldn't possibly have actually occurred in real life. Perhaps if she could just pretend that it had never happened... ah, well.

Concentrating, Elsa closed her eyes, and reached to her stomach. She snapped her fingers back, and the nightgown melted instantly, sweeping upwards and disintegrating into the air like so many others she'd made, the dark dye flying back into the carpet. It seemed cleaner that way, anyhow.

She flicked her hand over her body, forming her standard nearly transparent, icy slip, and then brushed her palms over her sides. A small, crystalline corset appeared, and Elsa, still looking in the mirror, began to work the ice closer and closer on her tiny waist. She and Anna had grown up in corsets, but since Elsa had learned to control her powers, she had discovered that it was much easier to simply build the undergarment, as well as her slip, directly into the dress itself.

Wearing nothing but the corset and the nearly translucent slip, now fused together into one piece, Elsa looked back to the mirror. Today felt like a green dress kind of day, she decided, eying her reflection again and pulling up her hair.

"Hey, Elsa?" The door to the gallery swung open, and Jack Frost, holding her blue dress in his hands, casually walked in, his staff tucked under his arm. "So, I've been trying to figure out how you make this stuff, and I can't understand how thaMOTHEROF—!"

"—EEP!"

Elsa threw her hands in front of her, blasting a wall of ice between them as Jack startled back in horror, his eyes bulging, tripping over his staff and falling backwards onto the ground. The ice between them piled up instantaneously, and after a few seconds, her arms still shaking, Elsa found herself staring at a solid glacier dividing the center of her room.

With a quick glance to the mirror, she hastily circled her arms around her head, and a light blue sheet of ice shot out of them, covering her body and fusing itself to the slip and corset. Fully dressed, she spun around to the glacier, blushing furiously.

"KNOCKING!" Elsa sputtered, gasping for breath, "HAVE YOU HEARD OF IT?"

There was a silence from the other side of the glacier.

Glancing back to the mirror and spinning around to make sure that she was actually covered, Elsa pulled in her breath, her heart still pounding. Swallowing hard, she turned back, beginning to hesitantly creep towards the wall of ice.

"Um… Jack?"

No response.

Elsa's eyes widened.

She gasped, running around to the other side of the glacier and frantically looking into the ice. But he wasn't there. In the faint light, it was then that Elsa looked down and noticed a large something on the floor with her blue former-coronation gown thrown over the top. Seeing a long shepherd's crook sticking from beneath the fabric, she bent down to pick up the edge of the cloth, hesitantly peeking underneath.

Curled up into a ball on the floor, the Youngest Guardian was hugging his knees to his chest, paralyzed with terror and staring determinately into his lap. Elsa bit her lip, pulling the rest of her coronation gown off of him and taking a step back.

"Jack," she stammered, "I—you can look now."

He shook his head, clapping his free hand over his eyes with embarrassment.

"I am," he choked, "So. Sorry—"

"—It's fine." Elsa pulled in her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was an accident. But you can get up now."

"First, let's hear you say that you have clothes on."

"I have clothes on."

"And you're not going to ice-blast me?"

"I'm not going to ice-blast you."

He, however, did not look up. With his hoodie still pulled over this head, he continued to nervously hug his knees to his chest, determinately staring at the ground. He rocked back, and then forward again, and Elsa bit her lip.

"Wha-What is it?" she blurted, "What's wrong now?"

Jack slowly pulled off his hood, shakily getting onto his feet and staring at the floor. He shifted uncomfortably, opening his mouth to speak.

"Sque-AUGCK!"

Jack startled as his voice cracked, clapping his hand over his mouth as his usual baritone suddenly broke into the register of a dog whistle. His eyes bulging, Jack Frost blushed furiously. Shifting his fingers on the staff, he then glanced to his feet, clearing his throat to try again.

"You—um—heh," Jack choked. "I—you're pretty."

Elsa's eyes widened.

Jack, shaking his head vigorously, abruptly shoved past her in embarrassment, leaping into the air and bursting through the door into the art gallery. An instant later, the door to the art gallery swung shut with a slam, leaving the young queen standing, frozen, in the center of her bedroom, staring blankly into the air.

… Really?

Drawing her hands into her stomach, Elsa turned around, looking to the art gallery door with wonder. Did he just say—did he really—was it actually true, that Jack thought she wa-AUGH! FOCUS! FOCUS, FOCUS, FOCUS, YOU STUPID GIRL!

Jolting, Elsa shook her head, snapping back out of the stupor. She whirled around, running for the door and grasping its handle, throwing it back and rushing inside after him.

At first, running past her desk and into the shelves, she couldn't see him at all. Then, with an eerie, blue glowing coming from the darkness at the end of the long hallway, Elsa saw a lanky silhouette pacing back and forth. He was hitting his forehead against the staff, muttering under his breath with every step.

"Friends, friends, friends, friends, FRIENDS—"

"—Jack," Elsa said softly, struggling to control her voice as she paced towards him, "Is—are you okay?"

He suddenly stopped, looking up. Elsa finished walking down the hallway to him, finally coming to a stop a few feet away. Jack laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head.

"I—um," he stammered, "I—I just wasn't expecting to see—you—um, to see you dressed like that."

"I'm sure," she apologized, "And I'm SO sorry tha—"

"—Oh, don't be sorry," Jack interrupted, his eyes bulging with delight, "It was FANTASTIC!"

The instant the words tumbled out, Jack clapped his hand over his mouth again, stumbling back a step. Pressing the staff against his forehead and gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white, he then squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth as if he were in pain.

Elsa bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Okay—I'm sorry—I just—yeah," Jack choked, "I should—I'm not used to having women as friends. Except—well, maybe except Tooth—but she's kind of—sort of half hummingbird, and what I just saw was—" His voice trailed off, and he awkwardly gestured to Elsa's body, letting out another nervous laugh and biting his fist. "You're—um—that—that's not—that is not a hummingbird."

He buried his face in his hands again, his pale ears crimson with embarrassment.

Elsa pulled in a deep breath, crossing her arms across her chest and struggling to control her voice.

"Thank you for that enlightening medical observation," she enunciated.

"Can I asked you something?"

Elsa shrugged, pulling her arms down and fidgeting with her fingers. "Okay…?"

Shifting his grip on the staff, he bit his lip. Pulling in his breath, Jack then hesitantly looked into her eyes.

"That's all you're wearing," he squeaked. "That's—all?"

He bit his fist again, glancing to her dress, and then up into her eyes, his gaze uncomfortably eager. Elsa felt herself cringe slightly. It had never occurred to her that there would be anything all that strange about her ice.

But still.

Drawing herself up, the Snow Queen re-crossed her arms over her chest.

"I—like ice," Elsa choked.

"Me too! But I mean—that's all?" Jack stammered again, gesturing to her dress with his palm, "Like—when we first met? And dancing, and—and when we kissed, and—? You're not—?"

Elsa felt blood rushing to her face.

Pressing her lips together, she crossed her arms even tighter, holding his gaze and saying nothing. Jack gasped, his eyes lighting up with ecstatic joy.

"So, you've basically been naked this whole time?" he stammered.

Elsa jolted.

SLAP!

The blow almost knocked Jack off of his feet, and he stumbled to the side, catching himself on his staff. He then quickly righted himself, gingerly touching his fingers to his face as Elsa lowered her hand and took a step back, blushing furiously.

Jack shook his head, gently massaging his jaw as he looked back up into Elsa's eyes. "Okay," he choked. "I deserved that."

Elsa clenched her teeth and her fists together, a few flurries of snow materializing out of the air and falling softly to the floor around them.

Catching it forward from off his arm with both hands, Jack leaned his forehead against the staff. Then, he hesitantly opened one eye, looking up to Elsa.

"Can we kiss again?"

"NO."

"Right. Okay."

He gave her quick nod, swallowing hard and running his fingers through his hair. Elsa looked down, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

"Um," she stammered, "I was—I was kinda wanting to talk to you about that. Actually."

Jack jerked his head up. "About what, now?"

"Our—um—our friendship."

His face fell. Elsa, her mind racing, pulled in a deep breath.

"I keep kissing you!" she blurted, "And I'm sorry."

To this, Jack's eyes widened. "You're—sorry you kissed me?"

"No! I mean—yes? I—!"

Elsa's hands flew to her temples, and she squeezed her eyes shut, giving her head a violent shake. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.

"I'm sorry if it was inappropriate," she choked. "I wasn't thinking straight."

His eyebrows lifted. "I don't think it was inappropriate," he said softly.

"You don't?"

Elsa shyly looked up again, grimacing.

Jack Frost shook his head. "I don't think it was inappropriate. I thought it was great," he told her. "I mean—unless you didn't want to kiss me, and—"

"—I did."

His eyebrows lifted. "And you liked it?" he pressed.

Elsa bit her lip, glancing downwards. After a beat, she nodded, feeling her face flush bright red again.

Shifting his fingers on the staff, Jack took a step towards her. "Soooo… I liked it, and you liked it, and we weren't doing anything wrong," he said. "What's the problem?"

"It's the friendship thing," she choked, "I'm—I'm still pretty new to it. But I'm still fairly certain that you don't kiss your friends. Even best friends."

To this, Jack's mouth twisted to the side. Choosing his words carefully, he then adjusted his grip on the staff.

"What if—this was going to be more than a friendship?" he ventured.

"Well, then we'd just be going too fast," Elsa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Also: you're JACK FROST.

His cheeks flushing, the Guardian of Fun self-consciously reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "You think so?"

"Oh, come now," Elsa said with an eye-roll, "Even if you were interested in something like that, this would be too fast."

"Like me seeing you without clothes on by Day Three?"

"That doesn't count. It was an accident." Elsa folded her arms tighter across her chest. Then, with a new and terrifying thought occurring to her, she snapped her head back up. "At least—it'd better have been an accident—"

"—It was!"

She raised her eyebrows. Jack ran his fingers through his hair again.

"I mean—it was," he stammered, "But I—it's not like I hadn't—well, it's not that I didn't enjoy it, or—"

"—Please stop talking," Elsa interrupted.

"Um—"

"—Now."

"Okay."

They stood in silence for a few more moments, staring at each other, unsure of what to say next.

"But—um," Elsa started again, then pausing and pulling in another breath, "I was—I was basically going to ask if—well—yesterday—"

Her voice trailed off. Jack stood up straighter again, tossing his staff into his other hand. "What about yesterday?"

Elsa could feel his expectant gaze on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, fidgeting with her fingers and sucking in her breath.

"Could we just pretend that it didn't happen?" she blurted suddenly.

Jack's eye widened in shock for a moment at the statement. Then, his face broke into a sheepish grin. He leaned onto his staff. "I would love to pretend that yesterday didn't happen. That's a great idea."

"And this morning, too?"

Jack glanced to the left. Then, grimacing slightly, he slowly looked back up to her, the same mischievous little hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. Elsa's throat hardened with sudden embarrassment again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, setting her jaw. "Basically," she stammered, "You are never going to get that image out of your head… are you?"

He shook his head, laughing nervously again, and then looked up into her eyes. "Not on your life," he choked.

Elsa bit her lip. "I don't suppose if I asked you to try to forget it, that…?"

He looked back to her, raising his eyebrows.

"Not. On. Your. LIFE," Jack enunciated. "Elsa, if you walked in on me wearing something like that, would you be able to forget it that easily?"

"Jack, if I walked in on you wearing something like that, I would have other concerns first."

He snorted, shaking his head. "I guess you have a point there," he muttered, "And I can promise you that I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a—well, one of those—squeezy—waist—thingies—"

Still holding the staff, he awkwardly traced an hourglass in the air with his hands, looking to her helplessly. Shifting on her feet with discomfort, Elsa bit her lip.

"—My corset?" she asked.

"—Chest pusher-upper—"

"—Sounds like a corset—"

"—Lung squasher—"

"—I'm thinking you mean a corset—"

"—Torture device."

"A corset," she said decidedly.

He raised his eyebrows. "I have no idea how women put up with those things," he chuckled bitterly, "Or—you know—breathe—"

Elsa shrugged. "I don't tightlace," she scoffed, "And, you get used to it. It's really not all that bad. But, I'd say that we put up with corsets the same way we put up with men."

"How's that?"

"With skill."

He rolled his eyes, snatching up his staff and joining her as she turned and began to walk back to the bedroom. "Speaking of putting up with men," he said, relaxing a bit, "How many suitors' audiences do we have today?"

"We?"

"Well—I'm coming with you," Jack said matter-of-factly. "Um… aren't I?"

The Spirit of Winter leaned into his staff again, hopefully gazing into her face. Elsa paused, once again taken aback at the realization as she stared into Jack Frost's brilliant, snowflake-marked eyes.

Her dear friend's brilliant, snowflake-marked eyes.

"Yeah. I mean, yes," Elsa exclaimed, "I—that would be wonderful. Thank you."

He grinned, picking up the staff again. "So, how many guys today? You never actually said."

"Oh! Um, none, actually," Elsa realized. "But I think there are four tomorrow."

"So, we have the whole day to ourselves?"

"Not quite."

They reached the door, and Jack leapt in front of Elsa and pulled it open. She thanked him and walked through, and he followed.

"What's the plan, then?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"After breakfast and the usual kingdom affairs," she informed him, "You and I are going to the Royal Library. We have research to do."

They had now reached her dresser. Elsa flicked her hands behind her, and Jack leapt up into the air as a long capelet appeared, sparkling ice shooting out of the back of her dress and elegantly rolling down her body and out across the floor. She looked in the mirror, pretending not to notice his impressed smile as she began to run her fingers through her hair and pull it into her regal braid.

"I still have no idea how you do that fabric thing with the frost," he laughed, "It's sort of incredible. And, researching what?"

"Arendelle's child abuse laws."

"Ah. A big old bucket of fun, then."

She finished the braid, running her hand down her hair. Snowflakes and shimmering particles appeared from under her fingers, and she turned back to Jack.

"You don't have to come," she corrected herself, feeling the pang of embarrassment hitting her chest again. "I just thought—"

"—Of course I'm coming, Snowflake." He shook his head, gazing admiringly at the ice crystals in her hair with that same slight smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. "It's important, and I imagine that you could use some help. But, if I come to offer my assistance, I'm going to be the one deciding when you've been working for too long without a break. Deal?"

"Deal."

She raised her eyebrows, beckoning to Jack as she walked towards the door. "Well, come along then, Mr. Frost," Elsa chuckled. "If you're going to be a part of the Ice Alliance, it's high time you learned something about running a kingdom."