Author's Note: This chapter wouldn't be possible without my beta mach5goh's input!

The obligatory disclaimer as follows: I am not wheelchair-bound, neither am I a professional architect/novelist/art student/social worker. The information contained within this fanfic comes from personal experiences and Internet research. I don't own the characters or any part of the media franchise they hail from.

They met again, on a cold morning so blustery Elsa was half-convinced she could look out the window and see Winnie-the-Pooh go flying past. The only concession she made to the weather was a thin, elegant shawl wrapped around her shoulders over a trim wool coat, and leather gloves. She would be driving, after all, and there was no need to wear more than what was needed.

Anna was just locking up as Elsa walked out; the redhead looked up at the click of the door, and beamed.

"Morning!"

"Good morning," responded Elsa.

"Looks like killer weather out there," said Anna. Her voice was muffled by the thick scarf she had wrapped around her face and neck. The redhead was bulked up, swamped by the layers of clothing she wore. "What I wouldn't do for a mug of hot chocolate. Do you like chocolate? Please say yes."

"Um," said Elsa, mentally fumbling for a response. It was too early, the morning was freezing, and she hadn't had her coffee yet. The universe was conspiring against her, but its agent of destruction was just too nice. "I love chocolate."

Anna clapped her hands – actually clapped her mittened hands – together in delight, producing an unimpressive muffled thud. "You're perfect."

Elsa's ears went beet-red, but were thankfully hidden by her scarf.

They got into the lift. Elsa pressed the floor for the basement parking. "Are you taking the bus?"

"Well…" Anna fidgeted with the book bag in her lap. "Normally I would, but it takes a while for me to get on and I don't want to make the poor driver stop for so long on a day like this. not to mention getting off the bus." She shrugged.

"Then how are you getting to school? You are going to school, aren't you?"

"Walking? Rolling, really." Anna followed it up with a laugh. "I can get some exercise. Stretch my legs." When Elsa simply stared, aghast, the redhead added, "What? It was a joke, Elsa. I'm allowed to laugh at myself."

The blonde forced a quick smile. "I-I see, but Anna..."

"Everyone's too sensitive, really. They get all awkward and quiet when I make a joke about my legs." Anna stopped talking. "Like you are now. It's okay!" she added hastily. "I'm just being horribly insensitive, so ignore me."

Elsa didn't know what to say to that. The awkward silence remained until they reached the ground floor. "Well – see you around. I'm, um, really sorry."

"Anna, wait." The redhead paused, looking nervous.

"You're honestly going to walk in this weather?"

"Oh," said Anna. "Yes, I suppose."

"It's freezing out there. How far is it to school from here?" Elsa knew from Olaf that Anna was attending Arendelle University – her own alma mater – and mentally calculated the traveling time. "Anna, it's a fifteen-minute drive! You'll be out in the cold for at least half an hour!"

"So? It's not like I have any other choice." The nervousness was gone, replaced with a mulish stubbornness that bordered on defiance. "I don't have a car or anything."

"You should take the bus." Manners dictated Elsa should offer to drive her, but something held her back. "I'm serious. The weather's particularly bad today, and you could fall sick if you're outside for too long."

"Thank you for your concern, but I think I'll be fine." She was gone before the blonde could answer.

The young CEO remained preoccupied throughout the walk to her car. Talking to Anna – interacting with her like nothing was wrong – was already more than she could handle, especially since the redhead was terrifyingly energetic and cheerful.

That was, when Elsa wasn't implying that Anna was disabled in every sense of the word. She cringed. Every time she mentioned the wheelchair, it felt like a reprimand, a physical reminder that she had caused that. She had ripped away the full life this outgoing, energetic young woman ought to be leading.

And so she had shut down and run away. That was all that she was good at, thought Elsa bitterly. She needed to calm down.

The blonde started the car but didn't drive away, focusing on her breathing, bringing her mind back to her happy place – an indispensable trick taught by her therapist. It worked. Elsa felt her muscles release the tension she hadn't realised they'd been holding.

She pulled out of the parking lots and onto the main road. It wasn't snowing, but the roads were slick and the trees swayed crazily in the wind. At the very least, Elsa was glad that her therapist had been able to cure her of her phobia of driving. It was one success stacked against her towering pile of failures.

Maybe she would visit the kindly lady again. It would help to have someone to talk to about this latest development in the soap opera of her life.

As she drove slowly, her eye caught a familiar flash of colour against the monochrome backdrop. Anna was huddled in the bus stop.

Elsa pulled up in front of her. "Anna!"

"Elsa? Hi! I thought you'd left ages ago!"

The blonde didn't acknowledge the statement. "I thought you weren't taking the bus?"

Anna gave her a sheepish look. "Yeah, but the roads are a lot more slippery than I anticipated, and the wind's treacherous. I lasted five minutes."

"Hasn't the bus come yet?"A quick glance at her wristwatch told her that she'd been in the parking lot for at least fifteen minutes.

"Maybe it's delayed? I don't blame them, the weather's nasty," said Anna. She was huddled in a corner of the shelter, her clothing and posture hiding as much exposed skin as possible, making her resemble a large bird. "It's fine – good thing they don't care about attendance in college, eh?"

Elsa could see that, despite her lofty words, Anna wasn't dressed to be out for long in such conditions – especially when she wasn't moving – and it was only getting colder. Her decency fought with her guilt and won.

"You're not walking – rolling – anywhere in this weather," she said firmly. "I'm giving you a lift."

"Wait, what?"

"You go to Arendelle University, right? It's on my way to work anyway, so it's no trouble at all." The blonde got out of the car – and hesitated, unsure if she should push Anna's wheelchair out. "My car trunk's big enough for your chair. It's fine."

"Elsa – "

"No buts." If she was digging her own grave, Elsa reasoned, at least her conscience would be the least of her troubles. "It's getting colder. You'll freeze to death before the bus gets here."

Abruptly, the incredulous expression melted from Anna's face and was replaced by the same mulishness from earlier. It didn't suit her at all.

Elsa sensed the other girl's reticence. "Anna? Is something wrong?"

"You don't have to do this because I'm in a wheelchair." She spat the last word out.

"What?"

"I don't need anybody's pity, okay?" Despite the bulk of her clothing, Anna seemed to shrink further into herself, eyes dark and downcast.

Elsa's shyness faded away. She folded her arms across her chest. "Anna. The weather is perfectly horrid today. Even if you weren't in that chair, I'd still be offering you a ride because I have transport and you don't, and no decent human being would let someone freeze out here."

That seemed to snap the redhead out of her mood; she looked sheepish. "… Okay. Sorry."

"Forget it." Elsa eyed her. "So… how are we doing this?"

"Give me a moment…" The redhead wheeled herself over to the passenger door, mindful of the ice, and opened it, hauling herself out of her chair and into the car seat in one fluid movement like a gymnast. "Sorry, do you mind stowing my chair in the trunk? It's collapsible, it won't take up much room."

"Collapsible?"

"Yeah, you can just squish it together, folds flat." Anna directed Elsa from her seat, making a sound of approval when the chair collapsed nicely. "Aluminium frame, so it's light."

"It's quite nice. I don't think I'll need to open the trunk, though, it's small enough to fit in the back." Elsa tucked the chair into the backseat of her car, and shut the passenger door for Anna. By the time she slid into the driver's seat, Anna had already put on her seatbelt and was examining the interior of the car with a rapt expression.

"I love this," she exclaimed. "I'm saving up for a car myself, but if I want to be able to drive to school before I graduate, it's going to have to be some second-hand junker. Those are hard to come by even – I've got to get a custom one."

"Thank you. It was a gift from my father after I graduated from college," said Elsa. "So where do I drive you?"

"School of Arts building, Arendelle University – the brownstone building just off Main Street – "

"On the corner of Atlantica? I know the place." At Anna's incredulous look, Elsa explained: "I was from Arendelle U myself."

"Wow, really? What a coincidence. How long have you been out of school, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A year ago." She pretended to be focused on the road, fervently hoping Anna wasn't going to ask further questions.

"So, that makes you 24? – sorry, if you don't mind me asking, how old are you? I mean, you could definitely pass for a teenager without the power suit."

Elsa's lips twitched. "I just turned 24."

"Close enough! I'll be 21 this year." Anna glanced out the window. "It looks terrible out there."

"The weather forecast said there might even be hail."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not out there."

Elsa nodded absently. For a few long moments, there was nothing but the sound of tyres on snow, and the hum of the heater.

Anna broke the silence before it grew too uncomfortable. "… Look, Elsa – about what I said back there…"

"It's fine. Really." The blonde smiled at her. "I understand where you were coming from."

"Yeah, well…" Anna gave an awkward laugh. "It's just – people tend to treat me differently just because I'm in a wheelchair, and that gets annoying. I'm mostly fine with it, honest – but sometimes, it just gets to me. I wish everyone would see that I'm just like everyone else – maybe a lot shorter, but..."

The joke was weak, but Elsa smiled anyway, and that got a full-fledged grin from Anna. "You don't have to explain yourself. It's fine."

"Okay. Sorry. Uh, sorry for apologizing. Never mind."

Elsa arrived at the campus, focusing on making the turn so she wouldn't laugh. "Can I drop you here?" she asked, pulling into the driveway.

"Yeah! Perfect, here is fine – wait a minute." Anna frowned. "This isn't the administrative office. How'd you know I was headed for the fine art building? Did I tell you what I'm majoring in?"

Elsa's heart beat frantically in her chest. "You mentioned it the other day," she lied hastily, "don't you remember?"

"Ah, that must've been it. Memory like a sieve." She pulled a face, miming a leak from her ear.

"Y-yeah." Elsa pulled Anna's chair out of the back seat, wheeling it over to the passenger seat; the redhead easily lifted her legs out of the car, into the chair, and shifted into the seat. "There," she said, grinning, "done. Thanks again for the ride, Elsa. I'll see you around?"

"You're welcome. See you."

With a jaunty wave, Anna was gone with surprising speed up the ramp and into the building. Elsa took a while to get going, palms cold and clammy from the slip-up. She was lucky Anna had accepted that half-assed explanation so easily; all that trouble to remain unknown, and she had nearly given herself away.

Screw it. There was no way she could continue being neighbours with Anna, let alone for an entire month. Olaf was wrong; she didn't need a month to see how bad the idea of their being neighbours was.

"Kristoff!"

The burly young man looked up from his tattered paperback novel. "Oh, hey, Anna. Thought you weren't going to make it. You texted me to say the bus was late."

"I thought so too, but I was rescued by my neighbour. She happened to be passing by, and it was on her way to work, so she gave me a lift." She slid into the space beside him. "You remember her, right? I told you about her the other day?"

"More like gushed about her nonstop," replied Kristoff, affecting a falsetto. "She's soooo pretty! She's sooooooo nice! She – Ow! That really hurt!" He rubbed his side.

"You deserved that. That isn't what I said, at all." Anna's ears were bright red.

"Anyway, why did you decide to take the bus? You could have called me, I would have picked you up."

"It's the principle of the thing! I moved out, I'm supposed to be independent and responsible." As Kristoff rolled his eyes, she added, "Plus you know how Ma fusses. To her, I'm still eleven and don't eat enough greens."

"But you still don't," he pointed out, earning a glare from Anna. "Anyway, we're all still Ma's babies. She was pretty peeved, though, that you wanted to live on your own and your guardian let you." He grinned. "Ma was secretly hoping he'd make you live at home until you were forty."

Anna shuddered. "Not that it's such a horrible thing, but I'd never be able to bring anyone home."

"One of the sacrifices to be made for warm meals and laundry service."

"True, that."

"Seriously, though..." He bopped her on the head. Anna squawked indignantly. "No more gung-ho 'I-don't-need-anybody-helping-me' attempts, you hear? Or Ma will hear about it."

"Fine," she grumbled.

"Anyway, your neighbor."

Anna scowled. "What about her? I thought we'd already discussed it."

"Oh, not as much as you'd like to, I'm sure," said Kristoff. "She was the one that helped you move your things inside, right? Sorry I couldn't come earlier, by the way."

She waved him off. "It's fine. And yeah, she did – incidentally, remind me to slug Eugene for suggesting those Stabbington morons. They dumped all my things in the corridor and took off. She didn't have a choice, really; it was help me or be stranded outside." Anna smiled. "It was nice of her to volunteer anyway."

"Mmhmm."

"And she taught me how to work the garbage chute!"

Kristoff wrinkled his nose. "Oh, that evil chrome thing? It took me a while to wrestle open when I was dumping the packing peanuts."

"That's because you think with those impressive biceps of yours, big brother," said Anna, poking his arm, "and all your structural engineering knowledge leaked out of your ears the minute class ended. Elsa taught me how to get that thing open."

"Elsa?"

"Didn't I tell you? Thinks with his biceps, not his brain," said Anna.

"No, idiot; your neighbour's name is Elsa?"

Anna stared incredulously at him. "Well, duh. Did I not mention it earlier?"

"No, you didn't. Hmm…" Her brother trailed off.

"Hmm what?"

"Oh, nothing."

She jostled his elbow. "Doofus."

"Do we have to?"

Agdar looked at his daughter, his expression kindly. "I'm afraid it is, yes. We aren't Anna's guardians, but it's our responsibility to meet the foster family that will be taking her in. Mr. Kristiansen will be there as well."

Elsa took a deep breath. "Alright then."

His hand rested on her shoulder for a moment, squeezing, then he was getting into the car. They drove in silence for the entire trip.

Olaf Kristiansen was waiting at the social services centre, a jovial-looking man who seemed incapable of standing still. "Mr. Brundtland, Miss Brundtland!" he said eagerly, bounding over to shake both their hands – and then, much to the pair's surprise, give them a hug each. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."

"The pleasure's all ours," said Agdar, only looking slightly ruffled. "Thank you again for agreeing to help us in this… sensitive, matter, and for your understanding."

"It was no trouble. The Bjorgmans are already here, shall we?" He led them down the dimly-lit corridor. "As per your specifications, we have set up Miss Iversen's bank account for the transfer. I'll go over the details with you in my office later."

Agdar nodded. "Excellent."

"I don't usually blow my own horn, but I believe I've outdone myself with the Bjorgmans. Cliff and Bulda have been fostering children for a decade now; I've known them for nearly eight years. You won't find a more suitable environment for a child. Of course," he added, "they haven't yet had a child with – special needs – but I have full confidence it'll work out."

"That sounds wonderful," said Elsa's father. "I'm looking forward to meeting them."

Olaf knocked on the door before opening it. A pleasant-looking middle-aged couple stood up when they entered. "Mr. and Miss Brundtland, I'd like you to meet Cliff and Bulda Bjorgman."

"It's a pleasure, Mr and Mrs Bjorgman," said Agdar pleasantly. Elsa echoed his words.

"Please, call me Cliff," said the man warmly.

"Then you must call me Agdar." Agdar's thin hand was swallowed up in Cliff's two-handed grip.

"What's your name, dear?" asked Bulda.

"Elsa."

She held out her hand expectantly, but instead the woman enveloped her in a hug. "So nice to meet you."

From behind her, a sullen teenage boy also waited to be introduced. "This is our boy, Kristoff," said Bulda, an arm around his shoulders.

"Ma," he protested, turning a little pink around the ears.

"Hello, Kristoff."

"Hey," he mumbled. He looked around her age, caught in an awkward stage of adolescence. Kristoff had a beanie thrust on straw-coloured hair that was too long. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans that looked like they had been handed down over generations of children, ill-fitting but well cared-for.

Elsa felt out-of-place, dressed in her usual prim and immaculate dress.

Olaf cleared his throat. "Agdar, Cliff, there are a few things I'd like to go through before we finalise the fostering process..."

While the adults talked, Elsa hung awkwardly around the sofa, picking at a bit of skin on her fingers.

"You're the one who caused the accident, weren't you?"

Elsa's head shot up. "W-what?"

Kristoff had his arms folded across his chest as he slumped in the chair opposite hers. "Ma told me about the new girl we're taking in. She's in a wheelchair because of you."

Her gaze dropped, vision blurring with tears. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be apologising to me." His tone was gentler now. "You're here because you're trying to make it up to her, aren't you?"

"Yes," whispered Elsa. "It was my fault – I was stupid, and I – "

" – it's already past," said Kristoff. "Will you be keeping in touch with Anna?"

"I can't. She probably hates me. It's better if she doesn't know who I am."

"You're sure you wanna do that? I mean, I know my parents said something about you and your dad insisting on being completely anonymous, but…"

"It's for the best," said Elsa firmly.

He shrugged. "Whatever. Your choice. Just hope you won't regret it later. I'm just saying," he added hastily, catching the look on Elsa's face.



Slow afternoons were Elsa's second-favourite times for working, the wee hours after midnight coming top. It allowed her to get a jump start on refining whatever snippets she had collected from the morning.

Her editor was planning to sell this novel as a murder mystery with a twist; in his words, "a well-researched, modern Dan Brown". Which was all very well and good, except Elsa was the one writing it, and there was a lot of a research to be done before she could even start. In a brilliant stroke of genius, she'd come up with a plot and had gotten the thumbs-up from Marshall. All that was left now was the actual writing, with more research to fill in the factual gaps; she was up to court procedure now, with a few more articles to peruse.

One of the perks of being the boss was the ability to slack off – well, to work on other things. Elsa glanced guiltily at the pile of office work on her desk, wondering for the thousandth time that day why she had chosen to put herself through the misery of two full-time jobs. She had no social life to speak of. She hadn't even kept in touch with her friends from high school or university. Even her hobbies revolved around her work.

At least Oaken's and Weselton's projects were going well. Elsa had dropped by to chat with her senior partners that morning and was satisfied by their progress.

She realized she'd been reading the same page for the past ten minutes, and decided that was a good sign she needed a break.

"Nancy," she called to her secretary, "I'm going downstairs for a cup of coffee. Hold my calls, and kindly not mention my actual whereabouts." The dark-haired woman smiled knowingly. That was the closest to a joke that Elsa was capable of – something Nancy knew well after years of working at North Mountain.

"Sure thing."

Elsa made the last minute decision to slip a paperback into her bag. The weather outside wasn't looking too comfortable, and the idea of nursing a hot mug while enjoying a good book sounded more appealing by the minute.

"Thanks again for taking this class with me, big bro; I really appreciate it," said Anna.

"No problem. Someone's got to take calculus so you can copy my notes and pass the class."

"… I take that back, along with every nice thing I've ever said about you."

"Rude."

Kristoff grinned.

"Anyway, we have a shift later, don't we?" asked Anna. They walked – or rather, Anna kept her wheelchair going at a leisurely pace to match Kristoff's – down the path that ran through the campus. "How long again?"

"Four hours. And I'm not your PA."

Anna shrugged. "If the shoe fits…"

"You know, I could just tip you out and leave you there."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would."

"It'll be all over the papers," said Anna. "'Local Boy Abuses Disabled Younger Sister'."

"Trust you to pull that card just to win an argument," grumbled Kristoff. "Brat."

"You're the only one who doesn't get all uncomfortable, so I'll take any advantage I can get."

He snorted but said nothing.

There wasn't much of a queue at the coffee shop, despite the hostile weather, and Elsa was grateful for small mercies. She fetched her steaming mug of coffee and chocolate chip muffin from the barista and looked around for a seat, settling for a cosy table in the corner.

She was well into her book when she became aware of a person approaching her.

"Hello. Sorry to interrupt you, but you look familiar. Have we met before?"

Elsa was about to tell him that it was the oldest pick-up line in the book, when she got a good look at his face and paused. He did look vaguely familiar, with those distinctive auburn sideburns, long nose, and pronounced jaw. The young woman searched her memory.

He snapped his fingers. "You live on my floor! At Arendelle Heights? Apartment 138?"

It jolted her memory. "That's it."

Smiling, he offered her his hand. "Hans Sorenson. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you sooner."

"No, I should be the one apologizing." She gestured at her table. "What a coincidence to see you here. Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes, let me just buy a coffee first." He was back presently, a blueberry muffin in addition to the coffee. "I have an incurable sweet tooth," explained Hans with a rueful grin.

"So do I." She stirred her coffee. "I work nearby, and snuck out for an afternoon pick-me-up."

"Same! I'm a junior attorney with Thorssen, Thorssen, and Sutherland LLC." Automatically he reached into his pocket and passed her a business card. Elsa reciprocated just as automatically.

Hans whistled. "CEO of North Mountain? That's impressive, unless you look a lot younger than you really are?"

"A lady never reveals her age," retorted Elsa, slipping easily into the polite social banter. "My father was the CEO before he passed away. Our senior partners were fine with me taking over from him, since none of them want to do the office work."

"My condolences." Hans tucked her card into his suit jacket pocket. "So we're not only neighbours, but caffeine junkies."

Elsa allowed him a rueful smile, feeling a little out of her depth; somehow, the fact that Hans was now an acquaintance in her personal and working life bothered her. She had never liked the idea of mixing them.

"Speaking of caffeine, you're running dry as well," he pointed out. "I'm going to get a refill. Would you like one as well?"

"Oh no," began Elsa, "thank you but…"

"Please, it's the least I can do. Doesn't make sense for both of us to stand in the queue and then have to search for another table again."

She hated that he was making sense; the shop was more crowded than it had been, the weather driving more customers inside. Elsa felt bad imposing on someone she had only just met – though it was more like gotten to know a little better. It made her feel like she was indebted to him.

"... In that case, thank you. Could I have a hot latte, grande, please?"

"Sure. I'll be right back."

After Hans had left, Elsa found it quite impossible to focus on her book, her thoughts refusing to leave. She marked her place carefully and tucked it back into her bag, eavesdropping shamelessly on neighbouring tables out of habit, hoping to pick up good lines to incorporate into her writing.

"Dollar for your thoughts."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know it should be a penny, but inflation." He chuckled at her expression, setting a steaming mug in front of her. "Sorry. I know it's a terrible joke."

"It makes sense, though."

Hans perked up. "Doesn't it? My friends hate my sense of humour, but there you go. Personally, I think they're just jealous."

She laughed. It was so easy to be sitting in the café with her coffee and her book, making small talk with another person with absolutely no dark history.

Kristoff pretended to be immersed in his paperback novel, deliberately ignoring the girl beside him, grinning inwardly as he turned a page with great deliberation.

Anna slapped a hand down on the pages. He scowled, and pushed her away. "Leave off, Anna."

"Don't think I don't know you're doing it on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose?"

She seemed to smoulder. "Ignoring me when I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. I want to talk to you."

"About?"

"Stuff."

"You mean, you want to tell me aaaaaalll about that gorgeous neighbour – ooof!" A pile of books was dumped into his lap.

"Never mind. Go shelve these books, you moron."

"Anna! They're from sections on opposite ends of the building! I'll be walking back and forth across the whole place to put these away!"

"So? You're the shelving minion." She was grinning now. "Besides, look at these call numbers; the shelves are at the top of the stacks. I can't possibly climb ladders now, can I?"

"… You're evil. Pure evil."

"Consider this payback for that crack about calculus earlier."

Kristoff blinked. "You're still pissed about that?"

"Not anymore." She made a big show of leaning back in her wheelchair, tucking her hands behind her head, grinning as Kristoff stomped off.

As though sensing Elsa had enjoyed her leisurely afternoon a bit too much, the scene back in North Mountain's offices was chaotic; Oaken's biomedical firm came back with input from their CEO that required a substantial amount of changes to the plans, and their long-standing major client (formerly her father's, now handled by Elsa and the other senior partner) calling to propose a new project.

A theme park modeled after the lost city of Atlantis. The cost would run into billions. Elsa snorted. If Mr. Whitmore hadn't been such a loyal and valuable client over the years, she would have dismissed the old man as a crackpot.

Crackpot or no, he was the reason why Elsa left the office late.

She hadn't eaten dinner yet. The young woman's entire being was focused on getting herself home for some much-needed rest, and then she would figure everything else out later –

Anna turned her head when the lift doors opened, wearing a sheepish smile. "Oh, hi, Elsa."

"Hello, Anna." The blonde graced her with a quick smile, and then started fishing in her bag for her keys. By the time she had extracted them from the corner pocket, unlocked the door, and walked in, Elsa was vaguely aware that Anna hadn't moved.

She took her time kicking off her shoes so she could ponder her next move. Common sense (plus a healthy amount of curiosity) dictated she ask Anna if there was something wrong. Her deep-rooted guilt was screaming at her to stay away from the girl as much as was humanly possible.

Elsa needed more time. She went to change out of her suit into something more comfortable. As she slowly pulled her sweater over her head, Elsa mentally ran over her exercises.

Breathe in, hold… out. Conceal it, don't feel it.

"Anna? Is something wrong?" she asked, poking her head out.

Her expression grew more sheepish; something Elsa hadn't thought was possible. "I may or may not have accidentally… locked myself out?"

"Ah." Elsa chewed on her lower lip. "Have you called the building manager?"

"Yes," said Anna. "But he's out, and won't be back until 10pm." She glanced at the door, then the window, and then back at Elsa. "So unless I master telekinesis in the next – " she checked her watch " – 3 hours, and levitate those keys through the window, I'll have to wait for him."

"Oh." The horrible awkward silence Elsa had come to dread filled the atmosphere. She felt mildly resentful of the universe for putting her in these situations where she had to choose between her conscience and her sanity.

She's not in danger of freezing to death. She'll be perfectly fine out here in the corridor.

Elsa opened her mouth to make her excuses and take her leave, but: "Would you like to come in while waiting?" came out of Elsa's mouth before she could stop herself.

Fuck.

She forgot her mortification temporarily – even though she was convinced she was going to regret it later – when the beam that lit up Anna's face made her smile.

"Yes, please, if it's not too much trouble… I mean, you've been so nice to me, and…" Anna trailed off uncertainly.

"Oh no, it's no trouble at all!" Elsa's hand hesitated on the way to the handle of the wheelchair. "I'm not doing anything tonight, so, I, um, would you like me to help you…?"

Anna turned her head, her smile reassuring. "I'll be fine, but it's really nice of you to offer." She wheeled herself into Elsa's apartment. The blonde followed, secretly glad she didn't help; visions of disaster danced in her head.

She'd done enough to the poor girl.

"Nice place," said the redhead appreciatively, parking herself beside the coffee table with a precision that surprised Elsa. "I like the, uh, monochrome look. It's very stylish."

She hadn't thought of herself being very avant-garde in her designing choices. There was black and white, because it contrasted nicely; and just black and white because Elsa didn't want to accidentally buy something that would clash. Furniture was sparse because it meant less cleaning. "I like black and white," said Elsa, already feeling the explanation was too lame.

Anna caught the look on her face. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it as a bad thing! I'm sorry! It's good, I like how clean it looks!"

"Clean?" She honestly hadn't thought that word could apply to her apartment. The stack of magazines on the coffee table and the overflowing garbage bin begged to differ.

"Like… stark. Lots of clean lines." Anna blushed. "Sorry – graphic design major. As you know."

"Don't apologise. I thought that was really nice." Changing the subject, Elsa added: "Would you like coffee or tea?"

Anna looked grateful. "Uhm – do you have hot chocolate?"

Elsa almost smiled. "One of the few staples in my pantry that isn't black or white."

She'd meant it as a joke – a pun playing on what Anna had said, and answering her question to boot – but Anna's blush deepened. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to offend you or anything like that. I'm not very good with words – that is to say, I just blurt out every stupid thought I have. Kristoff says it's some kind of Tourette's, except I just say embarrassing things."

"Kristoff's your brother, right?" She already knew Kristoff Bjorgman was her foster brother – she'd met the young man before, and Anna had told her – but after that morning's slip, Elsa wasn't taking any chances.

"Kristoff's my foster brother and also a senior at the same college. He's majoring in mechanical engineering. He's also the world's biggest softy – after my guardian – since he randomly decided he needed a part-time job in the school library after I started working there."

Elsa smiled. "He sounds really nice." Even after their brief meeting his protectiveness and kind heart were apparent to her, back then.

"Yep. We're also the best team the school library ever had," boasted Anna as Elsa handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "He's the book shelving minion. I direct the book shelving minion."

"Minion?"

"Well, I also run the borrowing counter, on account of being unable to climb the ladders. That sorta puts me in charge of the rest of the student librarians."

"Oh."

Anna laughed. "I'm only partially kidding about the minion thing though. You missed him the other day – he came over to help me unpack – but he's due to visit my new place one of these days. If you're around, I'll introduce you guys?"

"I'd like that," said Elsa carefully. In truth, she was hoping to be conveniently out if Kristoff came by. She couldn't risk the chance that he might recognize her.

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence. "You're the first person not to ask," said Anna suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, most people start asking me about my family when I talk about Kristoff being my foster brother."

A cold suffocating knot formed in the pit of Elsa's stomach. "… I don't want to pry," she said honestly; it was true, she didn't want to touch on that buried incident.

Anna set her mug down, expression suddenly earnest. "You're not prying!" she assured Elsa. "It happened years ago, so I'm okay. Besides, I'm pretty much impossible to offend, remember?"

Elsa gave her an uncertain smile, not sure what to say. The redhead interpreted it as encouragement to go on.

"I was thirteen when I was in a bad car accident. My parents were killed on impact. I was trapped in the car, and by the time they got me out, my legs were in pretty bad shape."

It was a simple summary, glossing over most of the details, but Elsa could see the accident unfolding before her eyes. Her grip on her mug tightened.

"I didn't have any family left, but I was lucky that some foundation heard about my case. My social worker, Mr. Kristiansen, who's also my legal guardian, arranged for me to live with Kristoff's family, but the foundation takes care of my school fees and stuff. They send me a cheque every month. The foundation's president is this really elusive guy, though. I've been nagging Olaf – Mr. Kristiansen – to arrange for me to meet him so I can thank him in person for all they've done, but no luck." Anna pulled a face.

"I guess he has his reasons for remaining anonymous," supplied Elsa nervously. Olaf had brought up Anna's requests a few times, both to her and her father; she'd declined every single one.

"You think he's got some deep dark secret?" To her horror, the redhead seemed unwilling to let go of the subject. "Maybe he's raising me to be his ideal bride or something?"

Elsa stared at her, aghast. "Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Ever read Daddy-Long-Legs?" When the blonde shook her head, Anna explained: "Well, it's this story about an orphan girl whose college education is sponsored by a mysterious benefactor. Part of his conditions is she must write monthly letters. The girl knows he's really tall and long-legged, so she calls him Daddy-Long-Legs."

"That's nice," managed Elsa.

"That's not all. The twist is that Daddy-Long-Legs turns out to be this older guy – her roommate's uncle – that she fell in love with in college, and she marries him in the end."

The blonde was eternally grateful she hadn't been taking a sip of her hot chocolate at that particular point, or she would surely have choked on it. "… Wow."

"If he's hot, though, I wouldn't mind." To Elsa's incredulous expression, Anna smirked, and continued: "I can't believe you've never read it. I should lend my copy to you one day." Her cheeky grin turned somewhat wistful. "Jokes aside, I'm really fortunate, though."

"Why do you say that?"

Anna looked down at her legs. "I didn't die in the accident. I could have. The doctors said if the other car had been a fraction of a second faster, it would have hit me and I'd be a goner. The Bjorgmans – my foster family – are like my real family now." She looked back at Elsa. "Things could have been so much worse."

"Worse," repeated Elsa. She wasn't sure what she should have been feeling, hearing the person whose life she'd destroyed speak so optimistically about the accident. She had been expecting anger, resentment, maybe a desire to meet the other driver to exact revenge. The guilt she was feeling grew exponentially. Anna was truly a good person. She didn't deserve everything she had gotten – though, with some help from Elsa, she could have had more.

"Elsa?" Anna had leaned forward to touch her hand. "You've gone white. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," replied Elsa. "I'm sorry to hear that – about your parents, and your legs."

"Thanks." Anna drained her mug, pushing it across the table, wearing a sheepish smile. "… You wouldn't suppose I could have more, could you?"

Elsa returned the smile, albeit a little shakily. "Of course." She started up the kettle again, fetching another sachet of chocolate mix from the pantry. She fetched the hot water for Anna, the kettle hovering in midair as she debated whether it was rude to offer to pour; Anna patiently held out her empty mug. The blonde filled it.

Elsa shot little, furtive glances at Anna frequently; the silence wasn't unwelcome, but she felt pressured to make small talk. Anna, however, looked completely content to be drinking in silence, her eyes drifting from her surroundings to the mug and back. Elsa felt her shoulders tighten with the tension.

"Are you busy?"

Elsa started, afraid she'd been spacing out and missed something. "I'm sorry?"

"Well – before I came and messed up your schedule," clarified Anna with an apologetic laugh.

"Oh, no, you didn't mess anything up."

"You don't have to sit here and keep me company, really; just go on with whatever you want to do. I don't need minding."

Elsa wavered. It went against the good manners that had been instilled from birth, but Anna was so casual about things, and the first few chapters of her novel demanded her attention…

"… You're sure?"

"Absolutely." The smile Anna gave her was so warm, so… accepting. It reminded her of the way Gerda smiled when Elsa was having trouble talking, when she was so touchy and keyed-up that the slightest thing made tears well up in her eyes. The last of Elsa's defences fell away.

"O-okay, if you're sure." Elsa got up from her chair slowly, the legs scraping against the tiles, her eyes trained on Anna in case she changed her mind. "I'll be in my room, is that alright? You can just call me if you need anything else."

Anna remained sitting serenely, the smile never leaving her face. "Got it. Thanks again, Elsa." She pulled out her phone and was promptly engrossed.

It felt wrong to turn her back on her guest, so Elsa backed up until the cold metal of the doorknob pressed into her back; face flushed with embarrassment, the blonde turned so Anna couldn't see her blush, and quickly opened the door. She left it open, though.

She was eternally grateful that she had left her laptop in her bedroom – it was bad enough that she was leaving a house guest – no matter how impromptu – to their own devices. It would have been worse if she were to write in Anna's presence, like exposing a private side of herself. The thought alone made Elsa feel immensely vulnerable.

Elsa sat on her bed with her legs straight-out in front of her, balancing the open laptop on her thighs. The cursor blinked on the white page; consulting her notes, she thought briefly and started to write.

Richard's phone rang, startling him from a light doze. Maryanne always did pick the worst times to call, he thought grumpily, thumb stabbing the phone screen.

"Hello?"

"I was wondering if you happened to be free this evening," said the smooth feminine voice on the line, with a touch of asperity. Richard pictured her sprawled on the couch at home, probably with one cat or two with her. "I'm starting to forget what you look like, and Mr. Harrison next door gets more appealing daily."

He laughed despite himself. "If that's supposed to make me jealous, you can do a lot better than Mr. Harrison. He has four bulldogs and looks like he could be the fifth."

"Keep this up and you'll be sleeping on the couch."

"To answer your question, though; yes, I should be able to get off work early today. I haven't any cases at the moment." Richard leaned back in his office chair. "In fact, I was dozing off when you called."

"Is that so?" Inspector Callaghan chose that moment to approach Richard's desk with a bulging manila folder and a crooked grin. "I guess you need this, then."

The detective sighed. "I'll call you back," he said to Maryanne, terminating the call over her long-suffering sigh. He would make it up to her later; he always did. It was the only reason why she put up with him. Richard had been sprawled backwards in the chair. He sat upright now, springing back up with a speed that had the inspector arching an eyebrow.

"If only you'd move with the same speed when solving cases," commented the man dryly. Richard's response was a tight smile, and a shrug. "What's this case about?"

"In a nutshell, a man's gone missing." Callaghan opened the folder as he spoke, and continued to flip to relevant parts as he explained. "Justice John Morrison didn't return home last night, and wasn't in court this morning. There are people who've called in to say they saw a car matching the one registered to the judge heading out of the city towards Townsville."

"Could easily be stolen."

"Now that's your job, isn't it?"

Richard scowled. He pushed the papers back into the manila folder. "A bit thick, isn't it, given that it sounds like we haven't done much work on this, and it happened fairly recently."

"We figured you would need bio on the judge, and the list of potential witnesses. You're doing the footwork; you and your partner – "

Elsa jumped when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Anna was beetroot-red, snatching her hand back. "I didn't mean to interrupt you, but I've been calling you for five minutes, and – "

Elsa felt her face go hot. "I am so sorry." She snapped the laptop shut, leaping to her feet, mumbling apologies.

Anna was equally as frantic. "No, it's alright! I'm sorry I startled you."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I just – "

"I didn't mean – "

"Sorry," said Elsa, "what were you saying?"

"Um, the manager called. He'll be here in ten minutes or so – " Anna checked her wristwatch " – yeah, around there."

"Oh." Belatedly, Elsa realized she was still sitting on the bed. She shoved the laptop off her legs – ignoring the pain in her back muscles from sitting in an awkward position for a prolonged period of time – and walked to the front door. "I'll open it for you, then – I'm really sorry about that."

"Don't be," said Anna, "it's fine, honestly. In any case, you don't need to rush; he won't be here for a bit." There was a touch of exasperation in her tone – Elsa picked up on it immediately and cringed, fighting the urge to apologise again.

She was an idiot. She had gone and let her guard down, fucking everything up; karma was swift, and she found herself being embarrassed in front of the person she wasn't even supposed to be talking to, let alone inviting into her home.

There was a noise outside. "Mr. Thompson? Is that you?" called Anna.

"Yes, it's me," huffed a voice in a nasal British accent. "Where are you?"

"Just a moment, I'm next door." Before Elsa could open the door, Anna's hand was resting on hers; the blonde bit her lip hard to suppress the shiver of being touched unexpectedly. The fingers stilled, and were withdrawn – slowly, so as not to alarm her.

"Don't say anything," said Anna, her expression determined, "just listen. Elsa – I know we haven't known each other very long, but please don't feel bad about doing anything in front of me, okay? I won't judge you or anything, if that's what you're afraid of." She paused. "I'm bad at words – you know that already – but yeah. I'm totally okay with anything."

Elsa swallowed hard.

"You don't have to respond or anything right now. You can – think about it? If it's not okay, then just – yeah, forget I said anything." Anna followed this up with a quick smile, and then she was gone.

Elsa closed her door behind her in a daze, the sound of voices outside fading into a distant buzz.

She wasn't quite sure what to think. On one hand, it was a massive relief to have someone understand what went on in her head in social situations – as weird as it was compared to 'normal' people. On the other…

It was mortifying to realize that she was broadcasting her thought processes that the people around her were picking up on them. And that meant the people in her life so far – the employees at North Mountain, her friends from school, even her father – did they think she was different?

Had they been treating her with kid gloves the entire time?

Gerda. Gerda knew her – knew her bizarre thoughts, understood the convoluted logic she operated within, had talked to her for years. Gerda hadn't said anything about how different she was from 'normal' people. The therapist had simply smiled and listened.

Much like Anna had.

It had taken years for Gerda to understand how Elsa functioned, and Anna had figured it out in days.

The thought was mind-boggling. Elsa wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

She was – quite literally – up to her eyebrows in blueprints; and so, Elsa didn't realise her phone was ringing. It stopped while she was frantically searching her desk, and started up again.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Elsa, is this a bad time? I've been calling for the past fifteen minutes. I can always call back later if you're busy…"

"No, no, now is fine. I'm sorry, Olaf, I was distracted." A tiny undercurrent of panic entered her voice as it occurred to her that he was calling her. "What is it? Has anything happened?"

"Nothing bad," he chuckled. "I was just talking to Anna. She insists on calling you Daddy-Long-Legs now – do you have any idea where that nickname came from?"

Elsa was completely speechless, amidst Olaf's laughter. Finally, she managed to gather enough composure to say: "You've been calling me for the past fifteen minutes, just to tell me that?"

"Yes. Actually, no? I had a point earlier, but I seem to have forgotten what it was."

"Olaf…"

"I remember now. Are you free anytime this week for lunch?"

"Yes, but is there any particular reason?"

A chuckle. "Straight to the point, as always. There is."

Elsa's stomach plummeted. "Understood. Is Thursday alright with you?"

"Great. And Elsa…"

"Yes?"

"It's nothing bad, dear, so there's no need to sound so worried."

She forced a laugh.

End Notes: Originally scheduled to be posted next week, but pushed ahead as a birthday present for myself.