AUTHOR'S NOTE: (*peers up from behind laptop*) Hey, everybody. You hear that? (*ominous rustling*) It's the sound of MEEEEEEEEE, UPPING THE SEXUAL AWKWARDNESS AGAIN! BECAUSE… well, because I can. (*A-hem*) Rated T for extreme innuendo, proceed with caution, yadayadaYA. (Also: I mean no insult to anyone who has done AU's where Jack is a vampire; I just find it slightly amusing because it's a character twist that would have NEVER occurred to me, and I wondered how my version of Jack would react to the idea.) ;)Thanks for reading, and have a fantabulous day!

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, as usual

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(ADDITIONAL) AUTHOR'S NOTE, added 1/9/20: Yeeeeah, so—in doing the Frozen 2 Update Draft… this chapter… I don't know. I think it really needs a complete overhaul, but a lot of people seem to find it really funny (even though it doesn't BRILLIANTLY fit the characters' emotional development at this point), so I'm reluctant to delete it completely, but… yeah, IDK. Feedback is always appreciated, but for now, Imma just leave this here, because it technically still works, is totally canon-compliant with Frozen 2 (I added a whole chunk; you'll see), and because I just want to get this draft done. (Seriously, I'm writing this note as I'm updating this chapter LAST, after literally all the other ones.) XD Thanks for tolerating me, my dear friends! :)

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27: MONSTERS OR MIRACLES

Elsa's eyes widened. "You—died?"

She watched in shock as Jack painfully pulled in his breath again, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. Sticking his free hand in his pocket, he swallowed hard, and looked back down to the floor.

"Sort of," he choked, "Ish. I mean—um—yeah."

Her heart started pounding, seeing his expression. It all made sense now. Elsa looked over him again in shock as the pieces fell into place. The centuries of records, the books, the stories, and of course, his impenetrable silence about his age. Jack Frost wasn't simply a clever, flirtatious winter spirit with ice powers.

He was undead.

"You died," Elsa breathed again. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "You actually—died."

"I fell through some ice—a while ago," he admitted quietly. "And then the Man in the Moon brought me back to life out of the frozen lake."

A thick silence fell over the two of them, Jack staring at the floor and leaning onto his staff, Elsa crossed her arms tighter over her chest, her mind racing.

After a few moments, Jack pulled in another long, pained breath.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that earlier," he squeaked.

"PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. Maybe. I just—"

She cut herself off, giving her head a quick shake. "I'm just confused," she decided at length. "That seems—significant. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hi, nice to meet you, oh-and-by-the-way-just-for-the-record, I'm UNDEAD?" Jack Frost snorted. "I don't usually lead with that, Elsa."

Her cheeks flushed.

Biting her lip, Elsa turned away, walking a few paces in thought. Looking back to him, she then uncrossed her arms.

"So—you fell through ice," she wondered. "Did you freeze to death, or did you drown?"

"I don't—"

He abruptly stopped talking, his eyes wide at her sudden change in tone.

"I don't know," Jack admitted, sheepishly looking down to the floor. "Kind of both, I think."

The Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest looked down to her feet, suddenly feeling very shy. Her cheeks flushing, she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Of course.

"Uh… Snowflake?" Jack ventured, taking a tiny step towards her, "Is… something funny?"

"No! Well—yes. Kind of. Just…"

Her voice trailed off. Scoffing, Jack Frost hooked his thumb on the edge of his front pocket. "Look," he huffed. "If my dying strikes you as so amusing—"

"Oh! No, that's not—I'm so sorry," Elsa jolted, "It's just—very relatable."

"Drowning, and/or freezing to death are relatable to you?"

She bit her lip. Slowly looking up into his eyes—her face falling—her gaze locked with his.

"It's scary," she whispered. "Isn't it?"

His expression softened with surprise.

"Terrifying," Jack choked.

The two winter spirits stared at each other in silence.

"Wait. So… you died, too?" Jack breathed. "You died, and then came back?"

Elsa nodded. "In Ahtohallan," she explained. "It's a frozen river. Kind of a glacier. Because it's technically a river, it's debatable whether I died by drowning or freezing to death, but—well, I went too far in. And I turned to ice."

"You turned into ice?"

She nodded. "I was able to shoot off a message to Anna first. But yes."

And the quiet fell over them again.

"But wouldn't that make you an immortal?" Jack realized suddenly, snapping his head up and leaping forward, "Because if you died, and then came back, then you're probably an immortal. Almost definitely."

"I don't know."

A look of disappointment swept over his features, replaced by confusion a moment later. "You… don't know?" he asked.

"I don't know if I actually died… um… all the way," Elsa said, "Honestly, I don't really remember much. With my mother, and the Spirits, and—basically, most of Ahtohallan is kind of a blur to me now. It all happened so fast."

Remembering it, she lifted her hands to her temples, giving her head a quick shake as she turned away, walking back to the table. Ahtohallan was—an experience. And she'd had some incredible memories formed there.

But she'd also had some terrifying ones.

Reaching her chair, she reached forward to pull it out, then pausing. Deciding against it, the Snow Queen then turned around, leaning back against the table as Jack followed after her.

"But if you turned into ice," he started again, "Wouldn't that definitely kill you?"

"Normally, yes. But there were all KINDS of magic, in that place," Elsa reasoned, pulling her hands in close to her stomach. "I could have just been suspended for a few minutes. I didn't feel physically altered in any way waking up, and—well, then there's Olaf."

"What about him?"

"He melted. And then came back, when I refroze him." She bit her lip. "Water has memory, but—I don't know if it has that much. He wasn't just an image; he came back with his full consciousness and everything. I know it sounds weird, but I don't feel like I would have been able to bring Olaf all the way back, if I'd died completely."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. Sighing, Elsa shifted against the table.

"I've tried to research the whole 'spirits' thing, but there just isn't a whole lot of information. We're all so different," she admitted, "The fire spirit is a salamander, the water spirit is a shapeshifter, the air spirits are plural and don't have bodies at ALL… Honeymaren has a bunch of theories. It's actually how we first met; Yelena pointed me toward her because she's kind of their resident expert on magic. But even she doesn't know if my 'Fifth Spirit' status actually implies immortality or not. It could be reincarnation, or maybe just a temporary position until I die, or—!"

Her voice trailed off. The temperature dropping a few degrees, Elsa felt Jack take a tiny step towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Snowflake. It's okay," he whispered. "We'll figure it out."

She looked up. "We?" Elsa asked.

"Well—winter spirits gotta stick together. Right?"

Looking to his hand, Elsa bit her lip. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"And, besides. There are ways to become immortal," he added, shooting her a reassuring, although slightly bitter, smile. "I mean, I definitely wasn't immortal—and I definitely died."

"I—" Elsa paused, her voice trailing off, and she then looked up into his eyes again. "See, to me, THAT'S what's confusing."

"How so?"

She closed her eyes, looking down. Then, nervously twisting her spike heel on the carpet, she vigorously shook her head, looking back to him.

"You died," she stammered.

"Yeah, I think we've established that."

"B-But you're blushing!" she exclaimed, "How can you be blushing, if you're dead?"

"You blush all the time!"

"But I don't know if I ever actually died."

"Turning into solid ice should DEFINITELY kill you, Snowflake."

"Magical ice—"

"—And, technically, I'm not dead," Jack interrupted, pulling his hand back and gesturing to himself. "I'm undead. As in, I'm back from the dead. So, I still have—like—blood, and everything."

The Fifth Spirit went silent, her eyes were wide. To find out that Jack Frost—who she'd always assumed was simply immortal—was undead, and that he had been mortal once, just like her… she was trying to process what he was saying, but it simply wasn't sinking in. Could it—could it really—?

Suddenly, she realized that she had unconsciously raised her hand to his chest level, taking a hesitant step towards him. She paused, her face flushing, and looked back up into his eyes. They were soft again, silently reassuring her.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "I don't mind."

The Fifth Guardian took her outstretched hand in his own, and placed it firmly on his chest.

She could feel it.

Elsa exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and letting the strange relief sweep over her as she pressed her palm into the ice-covered navy cloth. Jack's heartbeat was strong, thumping powerfully under her hand, his lungs expanding and contracting with air as he breathed, just like they were supposed to be.

It was clear from the chill of his skin seeping through the cloth that he had died. Yes—that much was true. But he was clearly alive again. Which was the thing that mattered.

Just as she was about to take her hand back from his chest, she felt something unusually icy and hard under her fingers. Pushing her hand up across his hood's thick fabric towards his collarbone, she felt a jolt rush through her, realizing what she was feeling on his chest.

He was wearing the snowflake medal on the inside of his shirt.

Jack laughed softly. Elsa looked up into his face, a weak smile crossing her own.

"I was wondering what you'd done with it," she admitted.

He shrugged, blushing slightly again. "I like being able to feel it."

"Why?"

"You gave it to me."

Elsa gasped, and felt her heart swell within her chest, the sudden warmth practically bubbling up through her entire body. His smile was so genuine. And so sweet…

The silence fell again as the two stared into each other's eyes, each completely unsure of what to say.

Jolting slightly, Elsa retracted her hand and took a step back.

"So you died," she said slowly, "And then you woke back up as—well, as a superhuman."

"As far as I understand it, yeah."

She clasped her hands behind her and turned away, beginning to pace in concentration, staring at the ground. After a few steps, she turned back to him again, her eyebrows raised slightly with curiosity.

"So, you're sort of like a vampire or something, then?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just like a vampire," he replied, absent-mindedly spinning his staff on the ground. He then caught it, looking back to Elsa. "Except for the blood. And the fangs. And the vampire part."

"I guess you've got a point there."

Walking towards her again, Jack swung the staff behind his back, catching the end of the shepherd's crook with his other hand. "I've got to hand it to you, Elsa," he laughed bitterly, "You're taking this insanely well."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't run away screaming?" he chuckled.

She stopped pacing, and walked back to him, stopping a few feet away and looking into his eyes. "Why on earth would I run away?" she asked. "That wouldn't help anything. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around—well, around you."

"Yeah. You're a lot more concerned about understanding how I am standing here, undead, than you are concerned about the fact that I am standing here, undead," he scoffed. "Perfectly normal reaction."

Elsa bit her lip, smiling in spite of herself. It did sound rather absurd, when he put it that way.

"A lot of people wouldn't respond well to the being dead thing," Jack said quietly. "Even if you might have died, yourself—as I said, I know that I died, and it was a long—long—time ago."

The Fifth Spirit's heart sank, seeing the pain in his expression. She shook her head.

"What's the problem with that?" she asked.

His face fell.

"Snowflake… I'm sort of a monster," the Guardian admitted, making her heart sink even more, "I mean—by definition."

"Of course you aren't a monster, Jack."

"A flying, icing, invisible dead man isn't a monster?" he retorted, "Then how would you define it?"

"I. Wouldn't." Elsa folded her arms across her chest. After a few moments, she shrugged, dropping her voice to a whisper. "But if I had to, I guess—I—I'd call it a miracle."

"A miracle?" Jack shook his head, laughing bitterly. "I'm basically a walking corpse."

"And I'm basically a spontaneous natural disaster waiting to happen."

"That's different."

"How?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again, readjusting his fingers on the staff. His eyes had widened slightly, filled with a combination of shock and sadness, as he looked into Elsa's expectant face. She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking into her hip, waiting for his answer.

He finally pulled in a long breath.

"So," Jack said slowly, "I—I guess we're both monsters, then."

"I guess we are."

They stood in silence for a few moments more, staring at each other in strange fascination.

Jack finally laughed nervously, shrugging. "I will admit," he muttered, "Monsters or miracles—whatever we are, it's really refreshing to know someone of my same—species."

"Same species?" Elsa exclaimed, a wave of confusion sweeping her face. "What do you mean? If there's one thing we're not lacking in this world, I'm pretty sure it's humans."

He looked up, biting his lip. "I don't really consider myself to be—well," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair, "To be—to completely be a human anymore. Honestly."

She uncrossed her arms, clasping her hands behind her back and taking a step towards him. "Do you consider me to be a human?"

"Not really."

"Because of the winter spirit thing?"

"Partially." His lips twisted to the side in thought. "I don't think that's a very accurate description, though."

"What would you call me, then? As a species?"

A sly smile twitched out of the corner of his mouth. "Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing?"

Elsa felt a jolt of shock rush through her at the word.

She quickly hid it, letting out a sharp bark of laughter and raising her eyebrows. "Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing," she scoffed, "Just like you, I suppose?"

"Yes, but significantly more female."

Elsa rolled her eyes, feeling herself blushing a bit. It was then that she noticed that Jack was making a visible effort to not look down from her face. He closed his eyes and laughed nervously under his breath, shaking his head, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Elsa's mouth fell open.

"You're STILL thinking about this morning?" she sputtered.

"No," he blurted, rubbing the back of his neck, "I mean—not really—sort of—okay," he exhaled. "Yeah."

Elsa's eyes widened, and Jack shook his head vigorously, letting out another nervous, embarrassed bark of laughter as he gestured with the staff.

"Elsa, it's not like I'm trying to—"

"—You can't be serious!"

"It's kind of hard not to, okay?"

"You are such a jerk!"

"Yeah, and you're a winter vixen wearing lingerie made of ice," he stammered, blushing furiously, "Next question?"

Elsa sharply sucked in her breath. With her throat tightening with shock, she looked down at her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. She closed her eyes and turned away, feeling blood rushing to her face. She could practically hear her own heart pounding in the awkward silence as she bit her lip, taking a step towards the table.

A few pained moments passed, and from behind her, she heard Jack let out a long sigh.

"Okay," he mumbled, "That last remark was really out of line. I'm sorry."

Elsa gulped, staring at the floor, her heart in her throat. Letting out a tiny squeak of nervous laughter, she then folded her arms tighter over her chest, and slowly turned back to him.

"Winter. Vixen…?" she choked.

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, staring at the ground. He blushed slightly, opening his mouth to say something, and then closing it again. Elsa drew herself up, raising her eyebrows.

"I might be new to this whole friendship thing," she said nervously, "But I'm pretty sure that that sort of comment isn't a part of it."

"I know."

"And we are just friends."

"I know that, too."

She glared at him more intently. Sensing it, he adjusted his grip on the shepherd's crook, hesitantly looking up to meet her gaze.

"I said that I know we're just friends," Jack muttered. "I never said that I liked it that way."

The statement caught her completely off guard.

Shaking her head slightly to wake herself from the sudden stupor, Elsa shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "You seemed to be fine with it yesterday," she said.

"I know things about you now that I didn't know yesterday."

Elsa pressed her lips together again, staring determinately at the floor.

"Things you weren't supposed to ever find out," she choked.

A look of confusion swept across Jack's face.

After a few moments, the realization falling onto him, he scoffed, his face cracking into a sheepish grin. "I wasn't actually talking about walking in on you," he laughed softly, "Even though that was—um—"

Jack paused, searching for the right word.

"Great," he decided. "Seriously, though. I was talking about who you are."

Elsa opened her mouth to say something. Then, she abruptly shut it again, pacing over to her chair and collapsing into it. As she reopened the volume of court records and started flipping through its pages, Jack followed her. Effortlessly leaping up onto the table and then falling down onto its edge, he sat next to her, resting his feet on his staff.

Pretending not to notice him, she flipped back to where she was in the record, putting her finger on the column and trying to make herself read.

Winter vixen? Elsa shook her head, blushing furiously.

She felt Jack scoot an inch closer to her on the table.

"What are you thinking, Elsa?" he teased, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She shook her head again, closing her eyes and staring determinately back down at the page. She felt herself blushing harder.

"Oh, come on," he chuckled. "I know that look. Fess up."

Elsa bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut again. Then, she leaned forward onto the table, burying her face in her hands. She pulled in a breath.

"You—you have to promise not to laugh," she shook.

"Only if you promise not to say something hilarious."

Elsa bit her lip. Then, shaking her head, she shyly looked up to him through her fingers.

"So—um," she choked, "You're—Jack Frost."

He glanced to the left, his grin growing a little wider. "Yeah…?"

"Jack Frost, like—ice, and—blizzards—Spirit of Winter—stuff."

"That would be me," he laughed, "What about it?"

Elsa pulled in another long breath, closing her fingers over her eyes again.

"My—um—my underthings," she stammered, "Being made out of ice—that—appeals to you? Apparently?"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

After a few moments, he burst out laughing, rolling back onto the table and clapping his hand over his eyes. Elsa felt blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. She was just starting to put her head down, burying her face in her arms, when she felt Jack's cold hands on her wrists.

Her heart leapt up into her throat, and Elsa suddenly found herself nervously looking up into his piercingly blue eyes as he gently pulled her hands away from her face. He was grinning, blushing slightly himself.

"You. Have. NO idea," Jack breathed, shaking his head.

Elsa felt more blood rushing to her face.

Quickly breaking eye contact, she bit her lip, swallowing hard. Jack let go of her wrists, and she slowly pulled them down into her lap, fidgeting with a bit of the cloth on her skirt.

"If—if it makes you feel any better," Jack added quickly, "It's more your clothes in general—"

"—What's your favorite color?" Elsa blurted.

He blinked.

"Uh…" Jack said slowly. "My… favorite color?"

"I'm changing the subject."

Jack raised his eyebrows. Then, scooting back on the tabletop, he pulled his feet up onto the wood, crossing his legs and dropping his staff across his lap.

"Oh. Uh… okay," he offered, visibly restraining from a laugh. "Probably blue."

"Oh."

Elsa fell silent again, fidgeting with her fingers. Twisting the edge of her capelet, she then swallowed hard, pulling in her breath.

"That's… nice," she added.

Her heart pounding, Elsa bit her lip, staring into her lap and trying to think of something else to say.

"Are we still doing one answer for one answer?" Jack asked, making her snap back into focus.

"Oh! I—uh, sure."

He smiled, clearly restraining from another laugh at her expression. Leaning forward slightly, the staff still lying across his lap, Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Okay… how about you, then?" he prompted. "What's your favorite color?"

Elsa stared the tabletop.

"It's—also probably blue," she squeaked.

Feeling his expectant gaze on her face, Elsa squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. Without looking up, she heard Jack scoot an inch towards her on the wood.

"'Also probably?'" he chuckled.

"Well, sometimes it changes," Elsa said quickly, "Depending on the day. In summer, I tend to be more partial to lavenders and greens, probably because of the seasons, so I can't definitively say that my favorite color is blue. Even though it always comes back to blue, especially because Bruni and the Nokk are both blue—my favorite shade of blue, in fact, which is really more of an aqua. So, overall, it's blue on average, but because it's not blue one hundred percent of the time, to say that my favorite color is blue isn't completely accurate. Therefore, I'll say that my favorite color is probably blue, not because I'm uncertain about my preference for the color, but because I'm taking into account the inaccuracy of the implied meaning of the answer. But, you already said that, so to repeat the statement without the addition of the word "also" sounds kind of—"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa slowly looked up, realizing that Jack was resting his chin on his fist, staring at her with an expression of amused disbelief.

"Kind of—rude?" Elsa squeaked.

She winced, shrinking into her chair.

"Um… wow," Jack chuckled. "That's got to be the most in-depth analysis of a favorite color that I've ever heard."

"I like to be precise."

He glanced down to the staff, a little grin twitching out of the side of his mouth. As he smiled quietly to himself, saying nothing, Elsa sucked in her breath again.

"Technically, I wasn't analyzing my favorite color," she blurted. "I was explaining the logic behind my response."

Looking back up, Jack's eyes locked with her own for a fraction of a second, and Elsa quickly broke contact, staring determinately down into her lap again.

Without even looking at him, she could feel his face fall.

"Elsa, I said I was sorry," Jack sighed. "You can stop freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Does the word filibuster mean anything to you?"

"Of course," Elsa retorted. "I've had to do it a few times. Why?"

There was a faint sparkling above them, and Elsa looked up, realizing to her horror that tiny flurries of snow were materializing out of the air over her head. Looking back down again, she bit her lip, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I am not freaking out," Elsa repeated.

Jack looked up, eying the snowflakes falling around her. "Uh… of course not."

Elsa felt herself blushing harder.

"So, it's your turn again," he said softly.

Nodding quickly, she drew herself up. "What's your favorite food?"

"Oh, come on!" Jack scoffed, "Elsa—we're winter spirits. Can't you think of anything more interesting to talk about than that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… not that your favorite food isn't fascinating to me," he laughed, "But, I'm still kind of wanting to talk snow. I mean, now that I've met someone who actually can."

"But do you know my favorite food?"

"I'm guessing it's chocolate."

Elsa's eyes widened. "Wow," she admitted, "That's actually—wait, how'd you know?"

He smirked. "You're female?"

"Now, that's just sexist."

"Is it true?"

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Okay, fine. It's sort of true," Elsa muttered. "What kinds of questions were you thinking of talking about, though?"

He considered this for a few moments. "Ah. Here's one," Jack started, scooting towards her on the table again. "What's your favorite kind of snowstorm?"

"Oh, probably Lake Effect snow at dusk. Or, waking up and seeing the first high-elevation stuff on the mountaintops in fall," she responded. "How it sparkles in the sunlight? And, it's the first sign of winter coming. How about you?"

"Blizzards. Definitely," Jack declared, "I'm talking whiteouts. But, from over the clouds—that's where it's at. Ever been up high enough to see a blizzard from its side, Snowflake?"

"Nope."

"Well, then." Jack leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist and gazing at her flirtatiously through his eyelashes. "We'll just have to take you, won't we?"

"But if you're always above them, you can't see the snowflakes up close!" Elsa retorted, not noticing his expression, "That's my favorite kind of ice—the super-detailed kind?"

"Mmm, is that so?"

"Uh-huh," she beamed. "What's your favorite kind of ice?"

"Don't have one."

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know! I just don't!"

"Oh, come on. Of course you do," she scoffed, "Just think about it! I love big, dry snowflakes. Like—when they're big enough that they've really had the time to get all different patterns, and they just kind of float on top of each other."

"But, when they're too dry, you can't pack them into snowballs, or anything."

"But powder is better for sledding."

"I guess that's true."

"And, powder sparkles more."

"Ah! There it is!" Jack laughed. "The truth comes out!"

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm self-aware enough to actually know what my favorite kind of ice is—"

"—I still don't get why I've got to have one!"

"Don't you want to understand yourself?"

"I do understand myself!"

"Then how can you possibly not know?"

"I want to understand myself, yes," Jack sputtered, "Analyze myself, no!"

"Why not?"

"Snowflake, not everybody with ice powers has taken the time to carefully categorize and rank all the different kinds of snow that they can come up with."

"I'm not asking about all of them! Just your favorite!"

"I don't know! Just whatever's fun!" he laughed. "Maybe I don't rank things I like by how much they sparkle."

"What's wrong with sparkles?!"

"Aaaaaaand BACK to Square One!" Jack proclaimed. "You are such a GIRL!"

"Is that a problem?"

He snorted. "No," Jack chucked, "I think it's great! In fact, I…"

His voice trailed off. After a few moments of silence, Jack Frost's eyes suddenly flickered down to her dress, lingering for a moment on the glistening neckline of her bodice.

A strange expression crept over his face.

Swallowing hard, Elsa watched as Jack uncomfortably shifted his fingers on the staff and looked back up into her eyes, an embarrassed, shy little smile creeping over his features.

"I guess I do have a favorite kind of ice," he breathed.

Elsa stared back at him quizzically as he glanced down to her dress again, biting the edge of his lip. As he gave his head a little shake, self-consciously ruffling his fingers though his hair, Elsa looked down to her lap, her brow furrowed in confusion. What was he talking about? Why was he acting so—

Oh.

Oh.

A wave of sudden nausea swept over her, and she collapsed forward onto the table, burying her head in her arms as her insides turned to jelly.

"You—you mean—um," she squeaked miserably, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "You mean my unmentionables."

Rocking back on the table, Jack let out a nervous laugh, blushing furiously. Pulling in his breath, he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, you can relax with the euphemisms," he admitted. "They have been mentioned."

"They shouldn't have been."

"But you look good!"

"Not helping, Jack."

"It's more what you weren't wearing—"

"—Aaaaaaand now it's even worse," Elsa groaned. She raised her head off the table, sitting up and leaning onto her elbows. "I like ice because—well, I just do. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's not like that," she countered, blushing even harder as she determinately stared at the table, "It's not meant to be—I never thought that someone could have a—thing—for that?"

"I don't!"

Elsa bit her lip, reluctantly looking up into his eyes.

His mouth falling open, Jack froze, staring at her in shock. His ears flushing pink, he then quickly broke eye contact, pulling in his breath.

"I—look," he stammered embarrassedly, kneading his eyebrows, "It's not a—thing. I swear. I just really like—ice—and—girls—and you just—you just combined—!"

Jack's voice trailed off, and he stopped talking, giving his head a vigorous shake. Burying his face in his hands, Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the pink in Jack Frost's ears deepened into a nearly crimson hue.

"You just sexualized ice," he choked.

Jack swallowed hard, shaking his head again. Shifting on the table and slowly pulling his hands away from his face, Elsa then watched as the Youngest Guardian looked back to her, a dreamy grin tugging at the edge of his mouth as he worshipfully gazed into her eyes.

"You are reeeeally fun," Jack quavered excitedly.

Elsa felt blood rushing to her face.

"Um…" she shook. "Thanks?"

"No! Really! That is fun," Jack blurted, the words tumbling faster and faster out of his mouth, "I mean—that's really fun; that is SO fun—"

"Jack—"

"That you could even do that was," he stammered eagerly, "I mean—I knew that your clothes were, but—"

"Jack—"

"It never occurred to me—"

"JACK—"

"All the way down—"

"—SHUT IT!" Elsa shrieked.

He froze.

"Stop talking," Elsa squeaked, "You—mouth closed. No more speak. Please."

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff. Glancing down, and then biting his lip, he looked back to her.

"Bu—"

"—AH!"

"It—"

"—NO."

"Yes, ma'am."

"THANK you."

She looked back down to her volume of court records, reaching forward to find her place on the page again. After a few moments of silence, she heard Jack Frost pull in his breath.

"Shutting up. Yes, ma'am," he breathed, raising his hand in a slow salute as he glanced down to her dress. "Yesssssss, MA'AM."

Elsa's face went pale.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Elsa stared back down into her lap as he hopped down from off the table, turning to walk around it. Reaching its other side, Jack pulled out his own seat, scrambling into it.

"Seriously, though," he started again, making her jolt back into focus. "We can talk about something else. Like—it's your turn, again. For the questions?"

"Right!" Elsa blurted. "Um—let's see. Did I ask you about your position on conservationism? I mean, as opposed to preservationism. There's this idea that hunting rights could be better regulated by—"

"—I meant, something fun," Jack chuckled.

"Debating policy is fun! It's interesting. And, really important. So, there's this idea of a tax being put on hunting licenses, and—"

"—Yeah, nothing says a good time like talking about Taxes and Death."

"Well, what do you suggest?" she retorted, beginning to blush again.

"How about something more cheery, like malaria?"

Elsa bit her lip, staring into her lap again with embarrassment.

"Like—okay," Jack offered, making Elsa look up again, "Here's one. What did you like to do as a kid?"

"As a kid?"

"Well—yeah!" he exclaimed, "If I didn't find out that you existed until a couple nights ago, we should make up for lost time, right? So, what did you do for fun?"

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she considered the question. After a few moments—feeling herself beginning to relax—Elsa pulled in her breath.

"When I was really little—before the accident," she admitted, shyly looking back up to him, "Anna and I would build snowmen. In the ballroom."

He grinned approvingly. "That does sound fun. What else?"

"And then, I—um, when I was older—I—"

Her voice trailed off, and she looked down again, her expression falling. After a few moments, Jack Frost got onto his feet.

"And…?" he prompted.

Elsa, her face grave, got to her feet.

"Let's put the records back. We're done with legal research for today," she choked. "There's something I think you need to see."