Author's Notes: This chapter is... all over the place, really. POV jumps from person to person, and into flashbacks. It will settle down soon, bear with me.

My beta tells me that Anna is a lucky girl indeed, to have all the handicap aids money can buy. But it's mostly because Elsa feels so guilty.

There are some drug abuse and disparaging of disability triggers here, because Anna is an angsty teenager.

In hindsight, Elsa didn't regret going out for dinner with Hans – even when it meant she was a chapter short on the draft, and was facing a possible all-nighter.

He was an interesting person overall. Funny without being inane, a good listener and conversationalist. Distantly, Elsa noted that he was conventionally handsome, sideburns and all – she was a Jane Austen fan – but that wasn't something she was particularly interested in at this point in time.

She had had fun with a new friend over a delicious dinner. Simple as that. And now, it was back to work.

"I hate him."

"Who, Phil?"

"Who else?" deadpanned Anna. She lay on her back, arms and legs askew, sheets tangled around her. "Only one person derives joy from watching me suffer through endless and impossible amounts of exercise. It's like my own personal Tartarus. And you," she lifted a hand, pointing at Olaf, "your lack of concern is disturbing."

"Well, I find your lack of faith disturbing," intoned the social worker, blinking bemusedly when the silence stretched on. "… It's from Star Wars."

Anna's gaze slid sideways, alighted on him, and returned to the ceiling. "References hurt. Thinking hurts. Everything hurts."

"No pain, no gain."

"Okay, enough with the tired pop culture references and clichéd statements. Do they teach that at social worker school? Is that some kind of ploy you use to win kids' affections by finding something relatable?"

"Exactly," he said, sounding impressed. Anna snorted. "Fine. Not quite in those terms, but I can't always be here just to listen to you talk about your therapist. I'm here for you." He took his usual chair by the side, crossing his legs neatly.

"It's my choice if I wanna spend this time talking about my therapist. I don't have anyone else to talk to or talk about. I'm in a hospital."

Olaf made a non-committal noise. "How's Carrot-Nose?"

"Hopelessly addicted to morphine which he keeps stealing from other patients' dosages," answered Anna listlessly. "He used to go to physical therapy but stopped after he beat his asshole therapist to death with a walker."

Olaf glanced at Anna briefly, but his pen didn't stop writing. "Does he still love warm hugs?"

"No, he prefers the sweet embrace of getting high. It takes away all the pain."

"I'll sign Carrot-Nose up for rehab, then." The social worker pushed his glasses further up his nose. "And how about you? Apart from your issues with your therapist, of course."

Anna sighed. "I don't know."

"Don't know? Do you mind elaborating – about your feelings? Or yourself?"

"Could we go over what's going to happen to me when I get out of here?" She felt sick to the stomach thinking about herself now. Thinking about the distant future helped.

"Okay, Anna." He closed his notepad. "You'll resume your studies. Though you've already chosen to be privately tutored, we discussed sending you to school. Your benefactor has already paid your hospital bills in addition to depositing a monthly check in your bank account. After you get your high school diploma, you have the option of going to college. I'll have to clear your major with your benefactor to get the funds you need."

"Cool. I'll be an educated cripple."

"Anna." She froze; Olaf's voice was suddenly icy.

"I do not ever want to hear you use that word again. Am I clear?"

"Yeah," the girl said. She had intended for it to sound cocky, but it came out wavering. The embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she added, "But it's true, though. I'll be stuck in a chair my whole life."

"It won't prevent you from living a full and happy life."

"Yeah? So I can try out for the cross-country team then? Oh, and go for the long jump while I'm at it."

Olaf sighed. "Anna, there's a difference between being realistic and being cruel. All I'm saying is that you can get the most of what life has to offer, but you have to recognize that your situation has changed."

"What would you know? You can still walk."

He paid no heed to the muffled sob that accompanied her last word; instead, he began packing away his things, rustling his papers loudly. "I'm sorry, Anna. I don't think I've been very helpful today. Maybe I'll come back another day."

"Yeah, you do that." She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

While the snow that had fallen overnight wasn't as heavy as the day she had driven Anna to school, it was definitely a considerable amount.

Elsa added being a decent human being and neighbor to her list of daily exercises and went to knock on Anna's door.

"Anna? Are you in?"

She heard muffled noises from within heralding Anna's approach before the redhead opened the door. "Hey, Elsa," she said breezily. "What's up?"

Elsa cleared her throat. It didn't get any easier with time. "Uhm, there's a lot of snow today."

"Yeah, it's crazy. I should get snow tires for my chair."

"I was wondering if you'd like to carpool with me," said Elsa, and then pinked when the humour of Anna's last remark sank in, "until the weather conditions get a bit more maneuverable. That is, if you don't mind."

The redhead's mouth dropped open a bit. "Elsa, are you offering to drive me to school?"

"Only until the roads thaw a little and you aren't in danger of freezing to death waiting for an unreliable bus service." Elsa realized it was the longest single sentence she'd said to Anna, and clamped her mouth shut.

"… while it's really, really nice and sweet of you to offer, I really don't want to impose on you. I mean, you're going out of your way – not driving-wise, but getting my chair in and out – to make sure I'm okay – "

"j – It's not free."

That made Anna pause mid-ramble. "I'm sorry, what did you say again?"

"You can pay for gas." Elsa remembered Olaf saying something about Anna wanting to be more independent. She was glad she had remembered it at the right moment; the redhead was chewing on her lower lip, deep in thought. "It's honestly not a problem for me since it's on my way to work," added the blonde hastily, "I'd be offering whether you were in the chair or not."

"Sounds fair," said Anna at last, offering her a smile. "I accept your offer, Elsa, on the additional condition you allow me to buy you a coffee whenever I feel like it."

"Deal."

The next morning, Elsa was already waiting by the lift, hands stuffed in the pockets of her overcoat.

Anna emerged from her house with a plastic tray attached to the side of her chair, two cups tucked in the pockets. "This morning's gas," she said, tapping the top of one drink, "both for the car and the driver."

"Thank you."

Apart from the slight hesitation when exiting the lift, Elsa found that she could tune out and pretend Anna wasn't Anna, and that she was doing something nice for a neighbor. She had forgotten to share that with Gerda, as part of proof that she was doing just fine interacting with people.

"Do you listen to the radio?"

Elsa blinked. "Um, no; not usually." Her gaze slid to the car radio. "I have CDs, but you can turn the radio on if you want."

"You're sure?" Anna had a hand already out, suspended on the way to the radio, looking like a kid caught at the cookie jar.

"I'm sure. Go ahead," said the blonde, smiling reassuringly. Belatedly, she realized the radio was a convenient way of filling the silence between them.

Anna fiddled with the tuning and volume knobs, waiting for them to exit the carpark. She grinned when distorted electric guitars wailed. "Uh, do you have any particular preference?"

"Not at all. Think of it as a bonus for making me coffee," said Elsa in a flash of inspiration.

The redhead nodded. She browsed several stations before deciding on a song with a thrumming bass line, settling back into her seat. "Thanks for letting me hijack your radio."

Elsa hummed, pretending to be concentrating on the road.

When Elsa walked into the firm, her coffee in one hand, Nancy looked up from her desk.

"Oh, you've gotten a coffee already?"

"Um, yes." She didn't particularly feel like explaining the convoluted circumstances. "Why?"

"Mr. Westergaard left breakfast for you again. It's in your office." There was a shadow of a grin lurking around the secretary's features, one Elsa chose to ignore. With a quick 'thanks', she entered her office.

Apart from the coffee and muffin she was expecting, there was also a bouquet of flowers and a note.

Elsa,

Thanks again for letting me take you for dinner the other night, it was great. Hoping we can do that again soon.

Hans

She arched an eyebrow. It wasn't every day a man sent flowers after a date – because that's what the note was subtly suggesting – and judging from her girlfriends' stories in their college days, it indicated a guy was a keeper. Or at least, thought Elsa, as she called for Nancy, as far as she could recall. She hadn't much experience with dating.

"Could you put these in water for me, please?"

"Sure," said Nancy, smirking a little. "In here?"

"No, maybe outside at reception. It could do with a bit of colour."

"Seriously?"

"Have you known me to be anything less than serious?"

Nancy arched an eyebrow at her but said nothing further. When the secretary was gone, Elsa called Hans. "Thank you for breakfast and the flowers," she said without preamble once he'd answered.

He chuckled. "You're welcome."

"I read your note."

"I hope I wasn't being too presumptuous."

"You're not." She toyed with a sheet of paper. "I had fun too."

"So that's a yes, then?"

Elsa had to laugh. "Now who's being too presumptuous?"

"You know, when you said dinner, I was expecting something similar to the last – date," said Elsa, hesitating over the last word.

Hans grinned, but seemed oblivious to the pause. "Let's be honest with ourselves, nothing comes close to Tony's. That was me pulling out the big guns to impress you to improve my chances of this happening." He toasted her with his stained coffee mug.

"And having a late, late dinner at a roadside diner after a movie is going to improve your chances of more dinners?" Elsa asked.

He shrugged. "I figured you should know what you're getting yourself into."

She let the statement go unchallenged. "So the scion of a wealthy hotel chain-owning family enjoys greasy diner food. It's hardly the stuff of gossip magazines, I'll admit I eat more takeout than I should."

"You don't look like it," he said, grinning. "You look like an organic smoothie and salad girl – not that I want you to be! It just means we're going to get along just fine, yeah?"

Elsa smirked in spite of herself. "Yeah."

Elsa had always been immensely grateful when projects neared completion; mostly, of course, because it meant an end to that particular chunk of work, but it also meant not having to deal with that client. It was awkward, being not just a customer yet not really a friend, but in that odd space in between.

This was an exception. Kuzco was definitely a friend, even if he did have a strange predilection for llamas. Nevertheless, he was a good client to work with and he was happy with his beach house. Oaken's team had done a good job, and there were congratulations all around.

Giving the entire office the following day off was a snap decision, but a good one. Elsa felt they deserved the impromptu break – not to mention she could hole up with her work.

"Is it casual Friday today?" came the bemused question from Anna.

Elsa glanced down at her jeans and shirt. "Oh, no – I'm not going to the office today."

The other girl looked aghast. "You didn't tell me you didn't need to go in. I could've taken the bus."

"Nonsense, I have things to do anyway. You aren't inconveniencing me at all."

Anna's mouth tightened. She nodded once, just as sharply. "Okay."

Just as the blonde was about to take the left turn towards campus, Anna leaned forward and tapped on the dashboard. "Elsa, could you go straight instead?"

"Why? Do you have something you need to do?" asked the blonde.

"No, just… keep driving. It's a surprise." A smile tugged at the edges of Anna's mouth.

"Don't you have class?"

"I can ditch if I want. It's a free country," said Anna, and then grinned. "Also, I may or may not be two hours early for class because I wanted to work on my new project in the school studio."

"New project?"

"Yeah, I freelance sometimes. Got a new client who really liked my work, but I can't say much – confidentiality clause and all. I like working at school because they have much nicer stuff – " Her expression turned slightly panicked. " – oh god, I sound like a criminial. You won't tell anyone, right? Turn right at the next junction."

Elsa was feeling a little overwhelmed by the barrage of information, but managed to comply, turning smoothly. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks."

The car meandered down silent roads, the occasional flash of other cars going past becoming rarer as they drove.

"Are we going out of the city?" asked Elsa, finally recognizing the road they were taking.

After giving the driver instructions to keep going straight until the next exit, Anna said, "Yep. I'm still not telling you exactly where it is, though; it's a surprise, like I said."

"We're going to end up at the bottom of the ocean, and that's what I deserve for trusting weird girls in wheelchairs," groused Elsa good-naturedly. Anna let out a surprised bark of laughter.

"What now?" asked the blonde, blushing hot.

"You made a joke! This is a landmark day for you," proclaimed Anna. "I am clearly a good influence on – whoa, okay, slow down a bit because we are taking the right fork. We're almost there…"

And Elsa turned the corner, and saw the beach. "Park anywhere you like," said Anna, smiling at the awe on Elsa's face, "because this is it."

The blonde got out to get Anna's wheelchair, and then started, "Um, your chair… is it alright on the sand?"

"We're not going out onto the sand, silly," said Anna, amused. "We're staying put."

"Oh."

The redhead's expression turned fond; she wound down her window so the sounds of the beach could drift inside. They were parked a little way off from a promenade; music and laughter mingled with the murmuring of the surf and sand.

"This is nice," said Elsa, and Anna hummed her agreement.

"I used to go to the beach a lot when I was small," she said. "We – my family – never had much money, so our holidays mostly consisted of us driving down, eating takeout from some dingy place, and going back home." Her expression was completely dreamy, lost in memories – she completely missed the dark guilt that stole over Elsa's face. "After the accident, I couldn't go anymore, of course. Kristoff, Ma and Pa, they offered to carry me, but I turned them down. We went to the local pool, but that wasn't quite the same, you know?"

"I'm sorry," said Elsa softly.

Anna chuckled. "Silly goose, what are you apologising for? You didn't cause the accident."

Cold sweat trickled down the back of Elsa's neck. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Before she could say anything, Anna added: "Besides, I found other things to do with my time. Like popping wheelies in the school playground. I didn't need to ride a skateboard to be cool."

"Wheelies?" managed Elsa.

"I had more street cred than I knew what to do with," said Anna dryly. "And I got to use the school lifts. Everybody wanted to be my friend so they could carry my books and hitch a ride. Oh, and of course, I got to sit inside the air-conditioned gym while everyone sweated and expired doing laps for the sadistic coach." She grinned wickedly at the memory. "I almost miss high school."

Elsa hadn't said anything else. Her expression was still strained. Anna finally noticed; her hand hesitated in her lap, and then came to rest on Elsa's. The blonde started.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable by talking about my accident. I'm sorry," said Anna quietly. "I asked you to drive here because I wanted to show you a part of me. Even though it's history, but it was spontaneous and fun – oh god, at least I'm hoping you had fun."

"I did," confirmed Elsa. "Thanks for taking me out here."

"Okay, that wasn't as bad as I'd expected."

Anna resisted the urge to growl. She reached for the towel dangling from the rail, mopping at her face. "As expected?" she said in a nasty tone of voice.

"Not as bad as expected doesn't mean it was good. I don't think ya need a break, given you slacked through that last rep. Do it again."

Her jaw dropped, along with the towel. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me. I'm pretty sure your ears work fine."

"Okay, that's it!" She sat up, as straight as her body could accommodate. "Where do you get off treating me like shit?"

There was a terrible silence. Anna willed her jaw steady as he glanced down at her, deliberately not looking at him. Slowly, Phil went down on one knee so he could look Anna properly in the eye. "You got anything else you wanna say to me?"

The tone of his voice goaded her on. "You bet. I don't know what crawled your ass and died to give you that kind of attitude when talking to patients, but I'm pretty sure physical therapists aren't supposed to act like you do."

Phil nodded. "Mmm. 'Kay. Anything more?"

She yanked the unlit cigar from his mouth, chucking it away contemptuously, never breaking eye contact.

He grunted. "I'm guessing that's it."

"Yeah."

"Alright." The therapist straightened back up, moving to pick up the cigar and stuff it into his pocket. "Just something for you to think over, though." He nodded at her. "I think you've made a lot of progress in the past month, from being a bedridden sop to a cable fly pro, and I like to think my insults played some part in that."

Anna blinked. He had a point. "There are better ways of motivating people, right?"

Phil laughed. "Sure there are, but this is more fun." He retreated a step. "I meant it about the reps, though."

Of course he had waited until he was out of throwing range before adding that last bit. She settled for ignoring him and returning to her cable flies.

After Elsa had dropped Anna at her school – eventually – she didn't immediately take a nap like she had intended to do; her muse was alert, and she felt inspired.

The detective straightened up with a grunt. He was getting a bit too old to be working cases like these; maybe he would go back to the office tomorrow morning, bright and early, and request a transfer. Nice, quiet desk work, that didn't involve grim trekking over godforsaken terrain, and a talkative girl for company –

"Richard! Over here!"

Then again, he thought, breaking into a jog, nothing came close to the thrill of discovery. Richard came to a halt directly behind his partner, his aches quite forgotten. "What is it?"

Her flashlight played over a patch of sand, where something twinkled. "It could be nothing, but it's worth checking out." She was young, but her tone was cool and professional. "Looks like a… cigarette lighter?"

"A long shot. People drop lighters all the time."

"Not this kind." She had yanked a rubber glove on, and was brushing sand away from the lighter. "Metal, expensive-looking. People drop cheap Bic lighters all the time, not something like this."

"Morrison didn't smoke."

"Then it could have belonged to his murderer."

"Did they teach you to make long shots in detective school, or is this a talent of your own?"

Elsa's apartment was filled with the clicking of computer keys as the light faded.

Anna was feeling restless, every muscle unable to lie still.

"Knock, knock." Hiccup limped into the room, a crutch under one arm. "I shouldn't be using this," he said, nodding at it, "but I was hoping you wouldn't tell."

She grinned. "Your secret's safe with me." Anna pulled herself up on her elbows, arranging her legs to the side, making room for him on her bed. He plopped down with a quick 'thanks', unbuckling the prosthetic leg.

"How'd you find me?"

"I asked my therapist."

"Is he even allowed to disclose that kind of info?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Once she ascertained I wasn't going to harm you in any way – not that threatening with only one leg, y'know – she was fine with it."

"You still have a functioning leg, which is one more than me." The joke came out more bitter than she had intended.

Hiccup's expression softened. "For what it's worth, I hear you're doing awesome in PT."

Anna stared at him. "Really? Is that how you change the subject? Smooth."

"Hey, I'm trying to be comforting. Cut a guy some slack."

She snorted. "Yes, that was grade A comforting. I feel so much better already." Despite the dryness of her tone, Anna punched Hiccup's shoulder lightly. He winced.

"Please don't use your awesome therapy strength on me. I don't think I can handle further damage."

Punching him clearly wasn't going to get any serious answer, so Anna reached for the nearest thing and chucked it at his head. The plush snowman bounced off Hiccup's head – drawing a startled yelp – and landed in his lap.

"Oh, nice," he said. "I've got a plush dragon myself. His name's Toothless because he's – well – toothless."

"Then we have similar taste in names because that's Carrot-Nose." Anna tugged on the snowman's nose.

Anna hated grocery shopping. Not because she couldn't afford the things she wanted – although her stipend was fixed, she was certain Olaf was pulling strings to slip her money, possibly even out of his own pocket. To her, grocery shopping was something incredibly domestic and intimate. Not bending your partner over the cabbages intimate – which was technically impossible for her anyway – but the buying favourite chocolates when the other person isn't looking intimate. Of planning a quiet night in with movies and snacks. Choosing food to cook dinner with.

She was a huge romantic at heart, and it showed.

Her ex-girlfriend didn't really cook, preferring to eat out. Anna had tried to get her into the shopping habit, but all she had done was buy snacks, and urge them to hurry up and pay so they could be doing other things – herself often included.

Anna wasn't exactly averse to that, but food was sacred, and the supermarket was her shrine.

So early on a Sunday morning, she knocked on Elsa's door and waited, beaming from ear to ear.

"Anna? Is something wrong?" Elsa looked less than polished, in rumpled shirt and sweatpants, her hair a mess.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go grocery shopping with me."

Elsa stared. "… Grocery shopping."

"Yep."

"Now? It's – " Elsa checked her watch, "9am."

"We can have brunch first," said Anna happily, "otherwise we'd buy way too much food."

The blonde considered it for a moment. "Alright. Would you mind waiting while I get ready?"

"Not at all!" chirped Anna. "I mean, I'm sorry for disturbing your Sunday morning but I opened the fridge this morning and realized there was nothing there but a moldy piece of cheese even a starving college student like myself wouldn't touch, so…" She seemed to rein herself in and then continued in a more measured pace, "I don't really like shopping alone and I thought that maybe you'd like to come with me."

Elsa had hovered in the door until Anna finished her ramble, looking uncertain.

"Oh – you didn't need my life story. Sorry."

"No, it's fine." The blonde smiled and turned, completely missing the furious blush that started on Anna's face.

Elsa still wasn't sure what made her accept that surprise invitation – Anna always seems to catch her off-guard – but she liked it. There's something calming about listening to Anna prattle like the happy young woman she grew up to be; calming, even, in the face of that horrible feeling she still gets in the pit of her stomach when she's with Anna.

She can do this. Spending time with Anna doesn't have to be painful or a chore because it certainly isn't. She can act normally around the girl.

Elsa doesn't need to give Anna another reason to hate her.

Anna chattered nonstop throughout the ride to the supermarket. "We have to get a cart," she told Elsa, tugging on the blonde's shirt.

"A cart? We aren't going to buy that much food," she responded, declining to comment on Anna's chosen method of getting her attention.

"But it's the principle of the thing! You have to get a cart when you go grocery shopping."

Elsa squinted at her. "… Let me guess, you were the kid who always rode in the cart."

"Even after I was too big to go in the little seat," confirmed Anna happily. "Here, you push; I've got my own set of wheels to handle."

The blonde laughingly conceded, and they started off in the fresh produce section. "Hey Elsa?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you got any dinner plans for tonight?"

Before Anna had knocked on her door, Elsa's plans for the day had consisted of staying put at her desk and finishing her chapter, sustaining on coffee and assorted snacks from her pantry, with a quick run to her takeout place at night if she was hungry. "Not really," replied the blonde.

Anna literally bounced in her seat. "Great! In that case, I'll cook."

"You cook?"

"Of course I cook! I'll have you know I'm a pretty good cook too." The redhead was already studying broccoli with a connoisseur's eye. "What are your favourite foods? Greasy Chinese takeout totally doesn't count."

"Har har." Elsa picked up a head of broccoli and put it in the trolley. "I like broccoli, then. Actually, I like pretty much anything."

"What do you think of… grilled fish. Salmon," said Anna, taking two fillets from the fishmonger, "with lime butter, and veggie stir-fry on the side."

"That sounds surprisingly healthy."

"Not every college student subsists on instant ramen and pizza." Anna was whizzing through the store; it took all of Elsa's energy just to keep up with her. "And chocolate cake for dessert."

"Aha. Knew you weren't perfect."

"Nobody says no to chocolate, Elsa; it's a fact of life." She tossed bags of chocolate chip cookies into the trolley with a carelessness that made Elsa swat at her, scolding her for spoiling them. "You know, I once told Kristoff that girls needed to eat chocolate three times a day or they'd die. He believed me."

"You're terrible." Elsa put a few bars of dark chocolate in and got a thumbs-up from Anna.

To say that Anna's thrilled is an understatement. From being closed-off and just a little – cold, Elsa is smiling more, even making jokes. Their conversation is so much better now that Anna isn't filling the awkward gaps with embarrassed rambling.

She actually sounds witty and bright, all references to cheesy musicals intended. Anna will fight anyone who disparages Rent despite not having a leg to stand on.

Elsa isn't just some unexpectedly kind person who feels obliged to be extra nice to the handicapped girl. She's a genuine person who loves chocolate and thinks her lame jokes are funny.

Despite Elsa's control over the cart, Anna had managed to spend much more than she'd budgeted for, and the car ride home was filled with half-hearted bickering over it.

"Okay, so why'd you buy five packs of Kit Kat again?"

"That is a non-negotiable item, on account of it being chocolate."

"Fine. But the Marshmallow Peeps."

"… They were on sale," whined Anna.

"Sale items aside, there's no way a single human being can consume that much sugar and still function."

"Watch me."

"Just set the stuff down over there," said Anna, pointing to the floor beside the kitchen table. "I need you to help me unpack it on the kitchen counter."

"Alright." It was the first time Elsa had set foot in Anna's apartment since the first day she helped the redhead move in (not counting the sink emergency because the pervasive memory of shucking her shirt made Elsa blush); it looked a lot more homey and comfortable. All of the standard furnishings had been replaced with wheelchair-friendly fittings; raised spaces for greater foot clearance, recessed knee areas, low shelving.

The combination of practical accessibility with design appealed to Elsa's professional senses, and she found herself mulling over new ways she could work with the aesthetic –

"Hey, earth to Elsa!" Anna couldn't get her hand up to Elsa's eye level, so she settled for tugging at the blonde's shirt.

"You look like a toddler when you do that," Elsa remarked, smiling as the redhead stuck her tongue out at her.

"Well, you were completely spacing out, so I had to get your attention any way I can… Oh, you haven't seen my place yet, right? Totally forgot to invite you over. Olaf was a real sweetheart, he said the cost of remodelling the place for me would be completely sponsored by the foundation, so it wouldn't come out of my stipend and we wouldn't need to take out loans. Something about providing the best opportunities." Anna had finished putting away the groceries while she spoke; she started rolling through the house, pointing out features she thought Elsa would be interested in, completely missing the guilty look that flashed over the blonde's face.

"Most of it is just normal stuff, really," said the redhead, "shorter shelves, more room for my chair. It's an apartment, so there's no need for ramps and lifts, thankfully – being the klutz I am, I would probably get stuck."

Elsa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I have two wheelchairs!" She pulled a bulkier electric one out of a closet, proudly showing it off. "This one's got a motor, for when I feel like running pedestrians over. It's heavy, though, so I don't often use it."

"Charming," said Elsa. "The reckless driving aspect especially."

"The bathroom is special. I've got handrails here, for getting on and off the toilet bowl, and a shower chair. The builders also enlarged the shower space so I can get in and out in one piece despite my klutziness." She blushed, and added, "I won't go into further details."

"And this," said Anna with a flourish, "is my bedroom, where I spend most of my time like a sulky teenager."

It was very Anna-ish. The walls were painted soft green – what little of the walls she could see, at any rate. Pictures, photographs, prints, posters, and other assorted items cluttered the space. There was a large desk that took up half the room, with two large monitors.

"Wow," said Elsa, "that looks really professional."

"It's for school, mostly." Anna wheeled over to the desk, fired the computers up. "I take my works to school in my laptop or tablet, but when it comes to the actual drawing, I use these or the school's software." She pulled out a drawing tablet from underneath.

"You never said what you were majoring in specifically." It was a half-truth, but Elsa wanted to confirm what was written in Olaf's reports.

"Graphic design, with a minor in illustration." Anna's fingers flew over her keyboard. "I make pictures good."

"Can I see some of your work?"

Anna actually stuttered, turning a crimson that matched her hair, her fingers tripping over the keys. "I, uh, sure but I have to tell you it's not very good." She opened up a file and waited, chin jutting defiantly.

Elsa was silent for a few heartbeats.

"… I know it's pretty bad; this was a really, really old piece I did in high school, and I haven't gotten round to actually refining it yet – "

" – Anna, it's beautiful." Elsa's fingers traced the outlines of the digital painting.

"It is?"

"Yes."

The colour of Anna's face lightened to a pink flush. If Elsa let herself admit it, she was really quite pretty. "Well," said Anna after a long pause, "I suppose it isn't that bad."

Elsa smiled at her.

"Okay, difficult question time: how good are you in the kitchen?"

Elsa looked between the pile of groceries on the counter, the assorted pots and pans, and Anna's expectant face. "Um – I can manage."

The redhead hummed thoughtfully. "Veggie chopping duty then," she said, pointing at the cutting board. "Make them all bite-size chunks, please."

"Alright." She started slowly, meandering her way through partially so she wouldn't lose a finger, and mostly because the kitchen counter was set at Anna's level. It took some time to find a comfortable work angle.

As she worked, Elsa stole glances at the other girl as she whizzed through the kitchen; it was difficult to believe Anna was confined to a wheelchair. One moment she was checking on the salmon fillets in the pan, the next she was complimenting Elsa on the uniformity of her carrot chunks ("You'd be surprised how important it is in good cooking, Elsa"), and then she was tasting the sauce and proclaiming it satisfactory.

"Where did you learn to do all that?" asked Elsa breathlessly as she finished chopping the last of the vegetables only for Anna to whisk them away and rinse them in the sink.

"I helped Ma in the kitchen – not by choice, initially. She said if I wanted to eat, I should help prepare the food. Turns out, I really liked it." As she talked, Anna expertly tossed the stir-fry, adding a splash of soy sauce. "Saves me a fortune in takeout too." Snapping off the heat, she asked Elsa to get the plates out of the cupboard while she took everything to the dining table.

Elsa took a bite of the food and chewed. She looked up – to find Anna grinning at her. "This is really good, Anna," she said.

"Thanks."

"You broke our dinner date," complained Kristoff. Anna nudged him in the ribs.

"There'll be plenty more, you big baby. I don't know who'd date you when you smell like what the dog dragged in."

"Harsh."

"Also, it wasn't a date. We were supposed to meet Punzie and Eugene and get raging drunk."

"Still a date, and you bailed on us." He continued sorting the books on the cart. "You must have a really, really good reason for ditching."

"I convinced Elsa to go grocery shopping with me," said Anna smugly, "and she loved it."

"Grocery shopping? With you? And she loved it, you say? You're sure you weren't hallucinating, and that she actually ran away screaming?"

"Real funny. I cooked for her as well, if you must know."

Kristoff clapped his hands to his face in an expression of mock-horror. "Will wonders never cease! You cooked for her without burning the place down!"

"That was one time, and you are seriously angling for a beating, Kristoff." She attempted to punch him; the young man darted out of reach. "Come back here and take your punishment like a man!"

"We're still in the library, if you haven't yet noticed, and we're supposed to be working."

Anna relented. "Fine. I'll beat you up later."

"You can try." His expression grew serious. "You like her, don't you?"

She dropped the books she was carrying – he grunted when a particularly thick hardcover landed on his foot. "Kristoff!" squeaked Anna, mortified.

"I – no! Not in that sense, god – unless…"

She was turning redder.

"Anna, be careful, okay?" It wasn't a good time to say anything, he knew that; it was Elsa's story to tell. But if she was going to lead Anna on… "I don't want you getting into anything too quickly."

"It won't be like that time with her," hissed Anna, "and it's really too soon for anything at all. It's none of your business anyway, but we just – she just only started being friends with me, and I'm taking things as they come, okay? I have school and work and – I don't have time for this." She had been running out of steam throughout, and the last six words came soft and vulnerable.

Kristoff bent down, pulling her into a one-armed hug – the other still balancing a pile of books. "I know. Sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"Apology accepted, you big buffoon," said Anna in a muffled voice.

"Now you can consider us even for missing our dinner date."