Sorry for the delay. Real life often times rules over both my beta and myself.

Every year at Arendelle Elementary, on the first Friday of September, Family Reading Night is held at the school. Dressed in pajamas, kids and parents show up at the school after school hours. Some moms host a bake-sale outside of the auditorium. Inside is a large book fair where kids easily convince their parents to buy them fun, eye-popping large print books. Then, when the bell rings, everyone heads to a classroom to listen to a teacher, faculty member, or parent volunteer read kid-friendly genres of literature. Families rotate classrooms three times during the evening, and when it's over, the kids are usually tired and ready for bed.

Elsa can still remember attending the event for the first time last year. It was rather impressive, and everyone got into it. She had been rather glad that she had worn her pajamas and hadn't been an odd woman out like some of the more uptight mothers who had arrived in blouses and high heels.

She's standing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, braiding her hair. She's wearing her cheap silk blue pajamas and a white robe, a pair of slippers on her feet. She has even taken her contacts out and is wearing her glasses to complete her evening outfit.

Olaf suddenly comes barreling into the room clad in a Lego Movie T-shirt, flannel pajama bottoms, and slippers that look like monster feet.

"Are you ready yet!?" he asks loudly, leaping onto her bed and jumping up and down. Elsa knows Olaf loves this event and has promised that she will buy him three books this time around.

"Not yet." Elsa takes notice of his outfit. "Sweetie, why are you wearing those jammies? I thought you wanted to wear the ones that make you look like a snowman?"

He shakes his head. "Nope! Those are white. I don't want 'em to get dirty."

"That's smart of you," Elsa says, sending him a smile through the mirror. "Which rooms did you want to go to tonight?"

"Sven's gramma is doing books like Brown Bear in the kindergarten rooms," Olaf recites. "Then Coach Ralph is doing action and adventure in room 22." He plops down on the edge of Elsa's bed. "Then Miss Eldr is doing fairy tales in her room."

"So you want to go to those three rooms?"

"Yes!"

Terrific. I get to sit and listen to Anna read fairy tales.

This will be the first time that they will basically be held captive together in the same room since the first day of school. Since then, they've only seen each other on occasion and exchanged polite, yet distant, greetings. Now Elsa is going to have to endure watching Anna read to a group of parents and students because Olaf wants to go.

They arrive at the school forty-five minutes before the festivities start. Olaf drags his mother to the auditorium, for what seems like the umpteenth time to her, and they are greeted with quite the set up.

Shelves have been placed along the edge of the stage, and there are tables covered with cloths, books spread out along them. From chapter books to ten-page children's books to the fun activity-filled books, there is plenty to be had. Kids are begging their parents to buy them the ones that come with toys or have fun interactions inside. The bake-sale is outside and Elsa knows she has to go buy herself a few of Tiana's—another class mom that Elsa is acquainted with—cookies before they all sell out.

"Okay, Olaf." She ruffles his hair as his blue eyes dart all around the room. "Go pick out three books. One chapter, one educational, and one fun. Got it?"

"Yeah-huh!" He skips off to find the books he wants, Elsa keeping an eye on him.

Kristoff approaches her, letting Sven go join Olaf in his book hunt, and stands beside Elsa. His hands are deep in his flannel pajama bottoms, and he's wearing a shirt that has "my favorite work out is heavy reading" printed across the chest, and his shoes are beat up men's Ugg slippers.

"You gonna visit Ma's room this evening?" he asks.

"Olaf was talking about it, yes. I'm glad Bulda volunteered," Elsa replies.

"She's excited. What other rooms are you going to see?"

"Ah… he wanted Ralph and then Anna."

He flashes her a knowing grin. "Anna, huh? How are you going to handle that?"

"Like a professional and participate like everyone else." She rolls her eyes at him and folds her arms across her chest. "Is it so hard to believe I'm a sane human being?"

"Yes, it is. Because not four weeks ago, you were freaking out and whining about everything. 'Uhhh. . . I can't believe this happened to meeeee,'" he mimics her voice. "'Why is she so hot?'"

She sends him a side-glare. "Fuck you," she mouths.

"Don't you use that potty language; we are at a school," he scolds, but his grin is the absolutely definition of shit-eating, and Elsa wants to smack him. "Do you really want her to hear you?"

"Who? Anna?"

"No! Buffy Biltmore."

Buffy Biltmore is one of the infamous mothers on campus who will stop at nothing to get her way. She's bigoted, close-minded, and if she were to find out that one of the members of the staff is homosexual, that person would be out before he or she could blink. As head of the PTA and the biggest donator, Buffy is a person feared by parents and staff.

When her son, who is two years older than Olaf, was in a class with the kind-hearted second grade teacher, Flora, she had been enraged to discover that Flora had mentioned evolution to the class in a passing discussion.

She had gotten Flora removed from the school in a heartbeat, in spite of the constant protests of other parents. Principal Merlin had been afraid to upset Buffy, so he had Flora transferred to a different district.

According to Rapunzel, Anna had taken over Flora's old classroom and job. (Elsa couldn't help but ask a few facts about Anna the next time Winifred had come over for a playdate). And just Anna's luck, Buffy's daughter is now in her class.

Buffy even yelled at Elsa once for being a single mother and Elsa's still pretty certain that Frollo took pictures of that moment.

"They should just get fucking married," she spat at Kristoff the next day, positively steaming.

She steers clear of her as often as she can.

"Buffy Biltmore is most likely trying to control Tiana's bake sale," Elsa responds. "I mean, if things aren't perfect in her little world, then everything is falling apart."

He chuckles. "You're probably right. Well, hey, I'm gonna go help Ma set up the rest of her room. Here—" He hands her two twenties. "Get Sven his books for me, will you? And just have him follow you guys around."

"No problem," she says.

"And if I don't see you in her class, good luck with Anna." He winks and starts to stride off.

"You're acting as if I'm afraid of Anna!" Elsa calls after him.

"I thought I asked you to call me Miss Eldr?"

Elsa nearly jumps out of her skin and whirls around. Anna is standing calmly behind her, hands folded behind her back. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and her pajamas are a long-sleeved olive top accompanied by black and grey argyle cotton bottoms. She's wearing a pair of fuzzy green slippers along with her getup.

"And, yes, it appears you're afraid of me," Anna says with a smile.

"Er, uh. . ." Elsa swallows and raises a brow, putting on a brave face. "I thought you meant when I spoke to you directly. I was talking about you to a friend." She gestures to the door Kristoff just left through.

There's something rather taunting and snide hidden in the smile Anna gives her.

"That's no excuse, Miss Fönn," she says. "Only my friends may call me Anna. You're just my student's mother."

"You're not very nice to me," Elsa says flatly.

Anna snorts. "I'm just messing around with you. Jeez, take a chill pill."

"So I can call you Anna?"

"Nope. Not yet." A grin, "Will you be visiting my room tonight, Miss Fönn?"

"As a matter of fact, I will be," Elsa confirms. "Olaf is very eager to listen to you read."

"How sweet." And Anna means it. "I hope you can handle me reading a book about three little pigs running off. Reminds me of a certain woman I had the fortune of sleeping with."

Elsa grimaces, but she can tell Anna is still giving her a hard time. "Very funny. And keep your voice down." Buffy Biltmore walked inside the building at the exact time Anna blurted out the end of her sentence, and they are within eavesdropping distance. "We don't want anyone overhearing us."

Anna follows Elsa's eyes to the woman passing by them, and Anna knows exactly whom she's referring to.

"Right, her. . ." Anna scowls. She leans close to Elsa and whispers, "Her daughter is a spoiled brat. I want to kill the kid."

Elsa can't help but to grin at her. "Her son is awful, too. He picks on Olaf and I'm pretty sure that Buffy puts him up to it."

"I don't understand how some parents have the audacity. . ."

"Oh, god, you should have heard her when our kids were little. She doesn't live too far from me, and she would take hers to the same park Olaf and I used to frequent. She would sit next to me on purpose and say obnoxiously 'which one is yours?!'" Elsa impersonates a high-pitched, fake voice, and Anna has to cover her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from laughing out loud. "'Mine is that one. She's so smart. Can already recite the alphabet and she's not even four!' God, I have never wanted Olaf to stop playing as much as I did then.."

Anna bites her lip. "That sounds awful."

"It was." They lean back from one another, and both are smiling like idiots. "I like your jammies, by the way."

"My jammies?" Anna repeats, snickering.

"Hey, I have a mommy mind. Sometimes I can't turn it off during social, adult conversations," Elsa defends.

"Well, thank you anyway." She curtsies. "I got all dolled up for the occasion. I like your jammies, too. Very fancy. And I didn't know you wore glasses."

"Oh, yeah." Elsa adjusts them automatically. "Only at night and early in the morning. Sometimes all day if I don't feel like wearing contacts."

"That must have hurt, sleeping in them."

Elsa knows she's referring to her sleepover at Anna's house.

"Not really. I've fallen asleep with contacts in before. And it's not like you had the proper stuff for me to take them out and I wasn't going to ask you."

Anna purses her lips. "You were also pretty exhausted."

"That is not my fault," Elsa says. "I blame you."

"I fully accept that blame!"

Elsa realizes that this is the first time ever that they're discussing their one-night-stand without bitterness, and they are actually joking about it. Is Anna over the whole ordeal like Elsa hoped she would eventually be, and will this make Elsa more comfortable to be around her?

She's about to retaliate, noting the slightly shocked expression on Anna's face—and realizing that perhaps Anna surprised herself with the comeback, when Olaf appears out of nowhere.

"Mama!" Olaf chimes, running up to her with three books in his hand, Sven padding quickly behind him. "I got my books!"

Elsa squats down to get eye level with him. "What did you pick this year?"

"I want this." He lifts up the first Harry Potter. "This." A Captain Underpants Mad-Libs book. "And this!" A Dragonology book.

"You think you're ready for Harry Potter?" Elsa asks even though she's smiling at his enthusiasm for reading.

"I'm ready! I promise!"

"Then you're gonna get it, buddy."

He smiles brightly right back at her, and she takes the books from him. Sven hands her his own books and Elsa looks them over, knowing Kristoff would approve.

"I have to go buy these," Elsa says to Anna as she stands.

"Alright. Well, I'll be seeing you three in my classroom." Anna waves a hand in farewell and starts to head out to her class.

"Bye, Miss Eldr!" Olaf sings.

"Bye, Miss Eldr!" Sven echoes.

"C'mon, let's get your books and then head over to Bulda's room," Elsa says, the boys obediently following her over to the check out line.

If there's one thing Elsa can appreciate in a woman, it's when she can fearlessly disguise her voice while reading to children. Anna is incredibly animated and entertaining as she reads, not holding back a gruff voice for the Big Bad Wolf or putting on a high-pitched whine for the pigs. Even when she reads Jack and the Beanstalk, her giant voice is something out of a fairytale.

All the kids are enjoying themselves and she even has them interact with the story as it goes on. She'll let the kids chant "fe fi fo fum" with her as loud as they can. It's all quite endearing. Elsa has never seen such passion in a teacher as he or she reads to students, and, as a mother, the blonde is very pleased to know how good Anna is to the kids.

Since they visited her last, there is still time to kill when Anna finishes The Princess and the Pea.

Some of the kids are on the carpet, talking loudly and discussing their favorite books and readings of the night. Parents are milling about while enjoying homemade treats that Anna made for the evening. Elsa is looking at some of the students' artwork that's pinned on the walls, admiring her son's dedication to their tiny family in a picture of the two of them holding hands.

"Why aren't you eating my cookies?" Anna's voice demands, startling Elsa yet again.

"Why do you keep sneaking up on me?" Elsa retorts, turning around to face her.

"It's not hard. You're always off in your own little world, it seems," Anna says placidly. "But don't answer my question with a question, Miss Fönn."

"I'm not eating them because I don't deserve your kindness baked in a batter of sugary goodness."

Anna's copper brows shoot up into her bangs. "Seriously?"

"Yes?"

Even Elsa is a bit stunned at her immediate response. She honestly still feels guilty for leaving Anna that morning it's the reason she didn't eat any of Anna's treats on the first day of school too. They are a symbol of Anna's kindness and selflessness. If Elsa eats one, she's, once again, exploiting this girl's genial nature.

"Jesus," Anna mumbles, moving away from Elsa, plucking up a sunflower-shaped cookie, and returning to hand it over to her. "Eat the cookie."

"Uh. . . no?" Elsa croaks.

"Yes." Anna thrusts it at her. "Eat it."

"But—"

"I insist, or so help me, I won't let you leave this classroom until you do."

Elsa timidly takes the cookie, and, with a nod of encouragement from Anna, bites into it. Her tastebuds are greeted with a perfect blend of sugar and cinnamon. The cookie is so good that Elsa wonders how any other cookie could ever compare to this.

"You like it?" Anna asks knowingly, smirking at the look of astonishment on Elsa's face.

"Mhm," Elsa hums.

"There we go! See? We're all good now, right?" Anna pats Elsa's shoulder and electric shocks travel down her arm just as the bell rings for the end of the night. "Okay, everyone!" Anna turns away from Elsa to address those lingering in her class. "Thanks so much for coming! I'll see you on Monday!"

As Elsa gathers up a drowsy Olaf, she hears a warm goodbye from his teacher as she starts to pack up her things. Elsa peers over her shoulder and gives Anna an uncertain smile, which Anna returns.

A start. . . it's definitely a start.

"What do you think? Regular or chocolate?" Elsa asks, holding up the two types of Rice Krispies.

Olaf is standing by the basket, staring intently at the boxes his mother is presenting to him. Elsa raises her brows and waits for him to make a decision.

"Olaf?" she says, giggling at her son's deep concentration. "Chocolate or regular?"

"Chocolate," he says.

"Are you sure?"

"No… regular… no! Chocolate!"

"Olaf, make up your mind, sweetie."

"Chocolate!" he finalizes, ripping the box from her grip and tossing it in the grocery basket. "Final answer!" He throws a finger into the air with this declaration, very serious about his choice.

Elsa chuckles. "Alright, then. Chocolate it is."

She pushes the basket gently along the linoleum floor, Olaf padding quickly next to her trying to meet her stride since he's too big for the basket seat now. His eyes are on the lookout for snacks and treats he can possibly persuade his mother into buying for him. After all, he's been a good boy this week! He deserves a little something extra, right?

"Mama?" he inquires, and Elsa recognizes his tone immediately. It's the butter-up-my-mama-in-order-to-get-something-I-want tone.

"Yes?" she replies, reaching over and plucking a box of tea off the shelf.

"Since I got a one-hundred percent on my math test, can I get some Pringles?"

Elsa glances down at him and spies the goofy, cartoon-styled smile on his pale face. A smile of his own, a smile that Elsa loves and adores. He's even batting his lashes at her, and she knows he's also playing around with her. She closes her eyes and sighs very dramatically, playing along.

"I guess," she says, as if it's the most strenuous thing to do. "I mean, I suppose you're an okay kid."

Olaf grins. "Thank you!"

Elsa returns the smile, ruffling his hair. "You're very welcome. Do you think you can run and grab it while I get some fruits right over here?"

"Yeah!"

She watches as he skips off towards the chips section before rolling the cart over to the produce, silently thanking god that Arendelle is, for the most part, a small town, and she can rest easy knowing that Olaf is safe in the grocery store. She picks out a few oranges and apples as he runs back up to her with a tube of Pringles, setting them down beside the box of cereal.

"Mama, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Are you gonna meet any other girls soon?"

Elsa furrows her brows and glances down at her son. He's gazing up at her with a curious expression on his face.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"You said that your date didn't go well, but you had important things to do. . . I still think you should meet more girls." He shrugs. "I liked seeing you happy."

Elsa crouches down to be eye level with him. She can see the genuine concern for her happiness in his eyes. He's toying with his fingers—a habit Elsa certainly passed down to him—and waiting for her to answer his question. She should have known he wasn't going to give this conversation up easily. She decides not to sugar-coat things with him on this topic.

"Olaf. . . when you get older, responsibilities can sometimes get in the way of romance. And sometimes things happen between two people that. . ." She sighs. "Sometimes people can be hurtful and dampen the idea of romance. Do you understand?"

"I think so. Did that girl hurt you?"

"Not exactly, no. She simply upset me. She wasn't very nice like I thought she was going to be."

"Oh. . ." He looks down at his fingers and then up into her face again. "I'm sorry."

She smiles. "There's nothing to be sorry about, kiddo. These things happen."

"If you want, I can spend the night at Grandma's more often so you can go on more dates!"

She lets out a laugh and rises to her feet. "That's not the problem, Olaf."

"Then what is the problem?"

I might be attracted to your teacher, that's the problem, Elsa thinks. "It's hard to explain. I wish I could tell you more, but it's not a topic worth discussing."

"Alright. Can we have pizza this week?" His attention goes from one thing to another in an instant that Elsa almost gets whiplash.

"Oh! Yeah, sure, honey. Do you want me to order in or—"

"Dominos!" he sings.

Elsa cracks another grin. "Dominos it is. But only on Friday."

"Pleeaaaaase, can we have it on Monday?"

"No."

"Pleeaaaaase?"

"Olaf. . ."

She hears a soft whine and glances down at her son, who is giving her the big eyes and pout that she knows he one-hundred-percent inherited from her. She decides to meet his challenge and raises her brow at an impressive height, staring back down at him. A stand-off between the two Fönns ensues in the middle of the produce section of the market.

"Okay," Olaf says, caving in first. "Friday."

Elsa giggles and rumples his hair. "Friday will come soon, buddy. You'll learn patience this way."

He grins up at her. "I'm patient!"

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I am!"

"I know you are. I'm just giving you a hard time." She bends down and kisses his head. "My silly boy."

Olaf gags. "Ew, Mama, not here!"

"I love you, too."

September is starting to blend together, and Anna is finding it hard to keep track of the days of the week. She keeps thinking Monday is Tuesday and often wishes Thursday were Friday. She copes with the usual strain of work, grading papers, and sticking with the curriculum. Math in the morning, reading comprehension in the afternoon between recess and lunch, and alternating subjects before the day ends at three o'clock. Sometimes its science, sometimes its history, sometimes its one of the extracurricular activities such as going to Rapunzel's art class, attending the computer lab, or going to PE.

It's getting more and more difficult to keep track.

On a bright Wednesday morning, Anna's biological clock wakes her up and she slugs out of bed before going through her morning routine. Once she's dressed, she pours herself a cup of coffee to go with her breakfast and shuffles outside to grab the paper and her mail. But along with the usual bills is her brand new subscription to Crowns and Gowns, the September 2015 edition.

Anna blinks and remembers that Merida had convinced her to subscribe because "what better way to get to know Elsa than through her writing". She gathers up the magazine and mail, tossing the Arendelle Times and envelopes onto the coffee table. She sinks onto one of the bar stools at her counter, peeling open the cover of Crowns and Gowns, which proudly displays a photo of fashion designer Edna Mode, the main focus of this issue.

She flips through several pages of ads dedicated to perfumes and make-up before landing on the letter from the editor.

Engage Fashion Mode

You know her as the number one designer in the country. She's created dresses that melt right off, suits that not only repel water but can withstand a full on down pour, and she's the infamous creator of the daring line of "supersuits" in which her models strut down the catwalk as though they could save the day and look good doing it.

Edna Mode is nothing short of a fashion genius, and her prices are never cheap. But how can one not pay for high-quality, fashionable, and functional clothes, especially if it comes from Mode? It's no doubt, however, that she wants to make sure her line is wearable to even the most average of fashionistas and is continuing to try to experiment with different fabrics and special materials in order to do so.

I was lucky enough to edit this incredible article, written by our very own Aurora Rose, who sat down with Mode over a cup of joe at a local hotspot Wandering Oaken's Trading Post. I dare say this might just be her best work yet.

Edna Mode's "supersuits" have already raised some eyebrows in both skepticism and impressment and all we can ask is, what bold move will she make next? What can we expect from her? If anything, we know that the world of fashion isn't ending with Mode. It's only just beginning.

Elsa Fönn, editor-in-chief

"Damn, she's good," Anna breathes. "I really wanna read that article now. . ." She glances at the clock hanging above the bar. "I'll have to do that after work, though." Anna shovels her breakfast into her mouth before dumping her coffee in a to-go cup.

As she idles in traffic, she starts to think about what Merida had said about Elsa purposely looking to hook up because she was lonely. If Anna were in Elsa's shoes, she would have jumped at the chance to have a warm body pressed up against her own in order to satisfy her raging hormones after being rudely pushed to the side by a no-show bitch. Yet there was also the fact Elsa seemed truly sorry about everything. . .

Anna pouts and slumps her cheek onto her hand, her elbow resting on the window of her car. Everything about this situation is so out of control, and all Anna really wants to know is if there's any possibility of her and Elsa climbing over the wall of awkwardness and finding equal ground.

She can't help but be cold, snappish, and sassy towards Elsa. In truth, she rather enjoyed their little back-and-forth at the bar that night. She was incredibly satisfied during the reading night, however, when Elsa played along with her for a few minutes. Elsa had actually treated her like a friend, and not someone that she was ashamed to have met the way they did. That's the Elsa she likes, that's the Elsa she's desperately attracted to. It's the nervous, distant Elsa she acts more abrasively towards.

Anna parks in her little reserved space in the teacher's parking lot and unloads herself and her bag from the car. She catches Elsa near the student drop off, giving Olaf a hug and a kiss on the forehead before sending him off to play in the yard until the bell rings. Anna frowns, scolding herself for ever thinking she could be a part of that. Elsa is a busy business-woman with a son to care for. The fact that she had any sort of intimate relations with her was a one-night thing and Anna has to accept that.

She unlocks her classroom door and sinks into her chair, running her hands over her face. If this is how she's going to feel towards Elsa, then she knows she's in for a long school year.

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