AN: Thanks wannasalad, sedryn, animeninjafan, Justherefortheride, 23deecy, GhostofWintersPast, theAbsentMindedArchitect, S Anon, elfspirit7, Kyoko-nyaa, frakenjones, Tigger, t3l4m0n, and Shadowfax321 for their kind comments in the last chapter. Life has been going fine for me, I guess. There is the usual office politics (or is it lab politics?) but my thesis is going okay so I don't think I have anything else to complain about. I really don't know if grad school counts as studying or working. In theory, I suppose it's studying, but in reality, our PI is pretty much our boss and we work somewhat like a hybrid between research techs and real scientists and churn out papers as a work requirement. Well, I suppose I write enough about grad school in this story that you can probably get a general feel of what it's like.

Anyway, I think it took me long enough to update that I should just stop ranting and let you read. I reread a little just to make sure I remember what was going on (sorry, that probably means you can't remember either), and I thought I'd probably do another edit of the entire fic after I complete it in another 5-10 chapters or so.

(This is the July 2016 revised chapter)

Courtship of the Grad Student

Chapter 17

It had always struck Hans as pretentious for scientists to fill their desks with piles of journal articles and old textbooks from their undergrad days.

Did they ever read them? Sure they did, back when they were studying for their comprehensive exams. Now, they lay there just to collect dust.

Of course, Hans was not unlike them. As an expert in manipulating others, he found that gaining others' trust started with fitting in. It was the subtle similarities that got to people, made them feel like you're one of them, and thus could be confided in. As such, Hans' desk had his personal pile of papers dating back to the first written mention of the term "genomics", to the latest issue of Nature Genetics that came with his lab's subscription.

But hidden among them were other books, and if one were thorough enough in their observation, they might notice that these books were particularly worn at their corners, yet ironically clean on their covers. Books entitled Brave New World and Nineteen Eighty-Four and an English translation of Voltaire's Candide...if Elsa Snow were to come out of her dark room and take a look through the collection, perhaps she'd even laugh and say, "How fitting." Such was Hans' taste in books, and his taste in life - he'd like to think that the world was not a bleak and hopeless place, rather, all worlds, imaginary or not, were quite like games, and those that learned the rules and twisted them to their favour would succeed in winning.

"You know, you're an asshole," Kristoff's gruff voice sounded from beside him, breaking him from his thoughts. Hans lifted his eyes from the manuscript Weselton sent him, turned, and returned Kristoff's gaze.

"I'll take that as your way of saying 'Good morning', Christopher."

Kristoff ignored him, continuing, "Anna told me you met with Weselton a few days ago."

Hans rolled his eyes, "And that is of concern to anybody else aside from Dr. Weselton and myself?"

Kristoff folded his arms and trained his best glare at Hans, "Yeah, be a coward and fuck around the subject all you want instead of just admitting it straight up. Tell me it's a coincidence Elsa can't get a hold of Weselton when you are meeting with him. Like how is it that you have her manuscript on your desk? Tell me all about it, Bro."

So this was what it was going to be about, huh? Just when he thought the Snow Queen was starting to show some improvement in developing that horrible personality of hers.

"Okay, Christopher, so you are suggesting that I am orchestrating some complex conspiracy against her. Even if that were the case, should it not be she confronting me? Do you not find it funny that you come in and throw profanities at me first thing in the morning?"

He stood up and walked up to Kristoff, shoving Elsa's manuscript into his hands, "If you want to meddle with her business go right on ahead. I do not have time for your little games, as I actually do have work to complete."

With that said, he did not wait for an answer, proceeding down the hall to the incubator where he left his streaked plates to grow.

It had been two days. Two damn days and nothing was growing aside from mould. Seeing as nobody was nearby to witness his misery, he tossed the plate into the biohazard bin, striped off his gloves, and rested his forehead on his bare hands in an attempt of clearing his mind. Damn it. How the hell could Elsa construct entire libraries so quickly while it took him weeks and he still couldn't transform a single strain?

This was yet another indicator of how the world was not fair. Kristoff would probably chide his line of thought as worthless jealousy. Elsa was born smart, so she deserved her success. Hans was born with less scientific talent, so he should just accept that he would never compare.

But Hans was born with the talent of using others, so why couldn't he exercise that advantage?

Perhaps "fair" wasn't the word he was really thinking of initially. It should be "equal". The world was not made equal, so it was up to each individual to discover his own strength and use it to accomplish his goals.

And it wasn't just his goals. Did Kristoff not realize that Hans wasn't even the one to make the first move in the predicament Elsa was facing currently?

Long before Hans' involvement, Elsa's project was destined to be held up like this, because while she was a brilliant researcher, that didn't make her a brilliant scientist. If she were to run her own lab, it'd go bankrupt before she could ever obtain tenure.

Because the truth was: she was self-absorbed and emotionally-stunted, and she hadn't changed the slightest bit since way back then...

That day, Diaval came over for dinner.

The sun set upon fallen autumn leaves, painting the skies golden. Phillip was outside, sitting on the front steps, eyes staring off into the flaming horizon.

"Good day, Sir!" Hans greeted with a salute, his small, auburn head topped with the army cap Diaval gave him as part of his costume for upcoming Halloween. Diaval put his large hand atop the cap and rubbed Hans' head from behind it.

"Great to see ya doing well, Kid," he answered. The woman beside him was less patient. Dr. Mally Moors was a rising star in the biotechnology field, but Hans got the feeling that was not exactly why she was so unapproachable. Tall, slim, skin a pale white against raven black hair, she was intimidating just standing there, let alone the fact that she was probably much better dealing with microbes than dealing with humans. At the moment, she was glancing around the group home's living room, looking extremely irritated probably because she couldn't find whatever she came searching for.

"You seen Elsa?" Diaval continued the conversation. When he caught Hans' curious eyes surveying Mally's annoyed expression, he added, "You see, Mally here wants to take Elsa down to visit her dad."

"Elsa's dad!?" Hans almost blurted out the words "is alive?" after that, but held onto them just in time before Mally's glare could burn holes in him. Diaval held Mally back by her arm and whispered something in her ear that seemed to have made her calm down a bit, then turned back to face Hans.

"So yeah, if you know where she is, maybe you can tell us to save us the trouble of searching everywhere?" He then bent down to Hans' level and gave him a smirk, "I mean, you probably wouldn't want Mally finding that porn stash of yours under your bed..."

"I don't have such a thing!"

Hans lowered his head. That stuck-up new girl had a dad, but she still dared look so depressed in front of everyone who, despite not having any parents left, were trying to cheer her up. How self-centered was that?

"She locked herself in her room," Hans tried sounding not so resentful, but being so young at that time, he could not contain his sentiments. This time, Mally did train her glare at him long and hard, her voice sharp and chilling as she responded.

"She has a damn good reason for that, and regardless of what happened in your life to make you so bitter, you do not understand her and you have no right to judge her either."

And you understand what happened to me and you have the right to judge me!?

That was what went through Hans' mind, but he kept silent, looking pitiful, just like what was expected of him. As he predicted, Diaval's expression turned sympathetic as he pulled Hans behind him, facing Mally with a disapproving look.

"Oh come on, Mally, he's just a kid, and he's having a hard time too."

Mally glanced at Hans, then nearly rolled her eyes before answering, "I have no interest in what you think, Diaval."

"Alright, alright, I won't say anything, okay?" Diaval said with a sigh, "Just...go upstairs and talk to Elsa. I'll be down here talking to Hans, so let me know when you're done."

Mally just frowned, then walked away. Hans mused that despite the woman having a sharp intuition, she was probably also a failure when it came to interpersonal relations, just like that brat, Elsa. Even as a child Hans knew everyone looked out for themselves, so if you were to turn against someone the moment they displayed an intention to rake in some benefit for themselves, you'd be turning against ninety percent of the people you face, all the while appearing like a high-minded jerk. Everyone should forget about wearing a mask so as to not manipulate others for their own gain? Was she even serious!? Who was she kidding? If everyone were like her, the whole world would be arguing with each other all the time. We live in false agreement with others. We live in a constant tug-of-war for scarce resources, all the while smiling at each other as though we have no conflict of interest. Masks are necessary. You either manipulate others, or you become manipulated.

"Hey Kid, you're too smart for your own good sometimes," Diaval's words snapped Hans out of his thoughts. When their eyes met, Diaval continued, "Don't think you can fool me. You were pretending to look dejected, right?"

"I wasn't!"

"Whatever. I was sympathetic not because you fooled me. I was sympathetic because you found the need to fool me," he muttered, then smiled, "When I was a kid, I never thought I'd need to hide my true emotions. My life was a lot simpler than yours, and admittedly, I was so very fortunate."

Hans didn't want to listen. Hans didn't need sympathy. Hans didn't want to be reminded that his twelve brothers were living in a mansion somewhere, living an effortless life without needing to think about whether they had the finances for supporting their path to honing their talents. He didn't need to remember he was the unwanted thirteenth son, the illegitimate son, the son his father didn't even know existed because let's face it, Hans was just the result of a random fucking session - given his wealth and fame, Hans' father probably had plenty of those throughout his life.

Honesty? Fairness? Loyalty? What did those ever bring to his mother on her deathbed as she begged Hans to keep his existence a secret from his birth father? Did that man ever thank her for not blackmailing him for the money he should damn well pay to support his own son? Ha!

Manipulate, or be manipulated. The lesson he learned from that man who gave him half his genes and not even the slightest glance since he was born. But this was enough. He cherished this lesson, and he didn't need Diaval to look so sorry for his misfortune because it was nothing but fortunate to have picked up such wisdom at this young age.

"I'm fine. You should go take a look at Phillip instead. I'm worried about him."

Diaval knew Hans said that mostly to throw him off, but did catch that sliver of honesty behind his cold, lime-coloured eyes.

"Yeah, I'll go do that," he said, heading off, not really expecting Hans to say anything more.

"Wait!"

A bit surprised, Diaval paused in his steps, "Yeah, what is it, Hans?"

"I think...Phillip might like it if you switch his room assignment...you know, so he gets the empty room with the balcony. I think he really likes watching the skies."

So Diaval's guess was right. Hans' worry was not an act. Of course it was genuine, he had been pained his whole life, so how could he not understand?

"I'll talk to Dad. He runs the group home after all," Diaval answered, then rubbed Hans' head again, "You're a good kid. I just hope you can find a balance, you know, in being a smart person, and being a good person at the same time. Keep that in mind."

A smart person, Hans could readily see what that meant, but a good person? What is good and what is evil? Humans are selfish creatures who see good only in what benefits them, and thus anything that harms their interests must be evil.

Hans did grow up into a smart person. He recognized the hostility displayed by his lab mates. He knew they disapproved of his antagonistic stance towards Elsa. But what did they know? Because the Snow Queen hid behind a door she must then be innocent - what they saw was an image they projected onto Elsa so as to justify their dislike for the way Hans exercised his talents in using them as tools for reaching higher goals.

He could understand their hatred for him, and in a way, even accepted it. Maybe nobody would believe him if he voiced these thoughts, but he really did believe in them. He hurt his lab mates' interests, so they hated him, fair enough.

But to project an angelic image on Elsa Snow? Seriously? Were they naive or what?

Elsa Snow was the one who killed Phillip.

Maybe he was just holding a grudge, because everything he did to help Phillip never did save him in the end. That was the last time Hans had tried to do anything for somebody else other than himself, and the results taught him to never do it again.

Hans never got to see Phillip's final moments. Their caretakers had kept them away from the balcony room the night they took Elsa away - the girl's pale blue bed gown was soaked red in blood.

The group home closed soon after. They were placed in the care of separate families and never saw each other again, for Hans and Elsa, not until they joined the Winters Lab.

By then, Hans knew Elsa didn't literally kill Phillip with her hands. He had asked Diaval about it. She was just the one who found him after he killed himself...

"Why was she even there? She never came out of her room back then!"

"Apparently she had been talking to Phillip. They were flying paper airplanes to each other. I...I don't know if I should really be telling you this..."

"I never even got to see him go! He was...at least I thought he was...my friend."

Diaval took a breath, then downed the shot of gin to collect himself. The memory was like the aftertaste of liquor in his mouth, fading, but still so very real and vivid.

"By the time I got there, they took him out on the ambulance. I just saw the room. It was so empty. I don't think any of us could really accept what happened at that time, so we left the lights off, and the only thing that shone was the moon outside - it streamed in through the curtains that sort of waved in the night breeze. Trust me, it was surreal. At one point I asked myself if it all was just a bad dream. But then, I saw those paper airplanes. The moment I noticed them I realized the room wasn't empty after all. It was filled, just totally filled with those glaring pieces of paper, like I couldn't even fit into the room anymore. All this time. All this time none of us could reach Phillip, Elsa was talking to him and that was the evidence. And then there was that single one beside where Phillip must've been when he...left...it was stained this violet-black in the bluish light..."

"There was something written on it, right?"

"I think Phillip wrote it, but never got the chance to send it out. It was...probably...his last words."

"What did it say? Just tell me!"

"It said: I can't wait anymore. Sorry."

After Kristoff had left for classes and it was calm and quiet again, Hans returned to his desk, and to even his own surprise, he took out the paper airplane he picked up yesterday and opened it to read its contents again. "...let me say this anyway, even if it's just for myself" - so Elsa Snow did realize her apology was pathetically useless, that it was just her own selfish way of wishing she could be forgiven by someone who would never again be here to forgive her.

Hans knew he had no right to accept or deny Elsa's apology. He was not Phillip after all, but he knew he, personally, didn't want to forgive her.

But those honest words on the paper airplane rang in his head. It was mocking him. It was calling him a coward.

He was jealous of Elsa Snow so he tried to take what rightfully belonged to her. He wanted to hate her to justify what he was doing. And not only that: he wanted to hate her so he didn't have to hate himself for failing Phillip.

Maybe Kristoff was right after all. He was an asshole.

A door clicked open at that moment. Gerda and Kai should be off for a meeting about their new spin-off company, and Anna and Rapunzel just left to grab something from the Corona Lab.

Then it must be her.

Hans couldn't recall the last time he had seen Elsa in the lab, but she was walking down the aisle now. Yes, this was real, she was walking up to him.

"I see that you've finally decided to come out," Hans actually stood up to talk to her when she stopped at his bay. Their eyes met, ice blue against dark lime. Hans admitted, he had never looked into her eyes so clearly.

"I think we should talk."

"If it's about Weselton, then forget it. As much as I hate you, you should already realize that I'm not the one setting up the shit you're dealing with."

"I wanted to talk about Phillip."

Hans didn't like to be surprised, but that was exactly what he was feeling now. Of all the people he couldn't read, it had to be Elsa Snow. While he always chided Kristoff and Anna for trusting her without question, he never understood her either.

Because what he always saw was the negative feelings he projected upon her, and never her true self which he had rejected since they were children.

"Aurora and I will go visit Phillip next month. I wanted to ask if you would come too."

Hans wondered if he should mock her and say "what, you're finally going to see him?" or should he point out "look, we are not friends here. I visit Phillip on my own and I don't need to come with you." But he did realize either answer was just as bitter on his part, so he could only nod reluctantly.

"Fine. Is that all?"

Elsa continued staring at him. There was a bit of anger in her gaze. She couldn't quite ease out the furrows in her brows and didn't think she needed to either. But finally, she tried her best to relax, and spoke out the words that had been on her mind for quite a while.

"Don't get me wrong, I do not appreciate how you manipulated Anna a while back and I will neither forgive you for what you did, nor will I tolerate you trying to do this again. But, about Phillip, I've been meaning to thank you for a long time. Diaval, Aurora, and I...Phillip's friends and family, we did see how you tried to help him. You did a lot of things that I couldn't do and regret not having done at that time, so if there's anyone to blame for what happened, it isn't you. We're thankful for what you did for him. I just wanted to let you know."

And what good is it telling me this now? - a small part of Hans was thinking this, but he decided, he was just being a jerk.

Elsa Snow was changing. He could no longer use her as a projection for all his frustrations.

"Not as if you didn't try either. Nobody is to blame for that tragedy, even you."

"Yeah, I know."

For all that he thought blaming Elsa would make him feel better, it really didn't compare to the relief of letting go.

He took a breath. It felt refreshing. And with the load off his shoulders, he found himself subconsciously smiling.

"About Weselton, Brad asked me to meet with him again tomorrow at one in the small conference room, so if you're trying to find him, he would be there. Again, it's up to you to deal with your own problems. I'm not the one causing them, at least not this time."

Elsa's expression did not change. It was no shocking revelation. "I know that too, but I'm not going to apologize on Kristoff's behalf for what Anna told me he had been saying to you lately. I think though you're not the one stirring up trouble this time, it's not like you don't want to. You just don't have the power to do it."

"Well, I admit I'm just a measly grad student after all," Hans smirked.

"For once we're in agreement."

The lab door chose that moment to fly open and Elsa was caught in this horrible dilemma of either staying to see just what exactly happened, or running back to her dark room so she didn't have to deal with whoever was coming.

In the end, she just froze there when Anna appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, hey! You're actually in the lab!" She exclaimed.

Elsa's startled heartbeat finally slowed, "What do you mean I'm actually in the lab. I'm always in the lab."

"I mean...like...you're actually at Hans' bay."

Elsa turned back to Hans who had this mocking grin on his face. She hardened her gaze. "I don't need to be reminded, Anna."

Sensing the prickling sensation of enmity in the air, Anna giggled, "Err...okay then, let's go back to the dark room. Uhh...bye Hans!"

When they got back to the safe confines of the dark room, Elsa sat down at the hood, hoping Anna would not decide to ask about what just happened there. But then, that was quite impossible for the curious young girl, she supposed. It didn't exactly strike her as surprising when she said:

"So were you...umm...talking to Hans?"

"Well, yes. But it was about Phillip. I swear I didn't strangle your dreamy-eyed crush."

"Oh come on, Elsa, he was my crush like...ages ago. And it was his perfect sideburns, not his eyes."

"Right...so should I grow some sideburns too?"

That got Anna chuckling, "Well, only if you want to. Your body, your choice. I think you're beautiful either way."

This sent Elsa blushing from her neck all the way to her forehead. She babbled some barely coherent words, "So...why did you slam open the lab door like that? ...like...did you actually get the glycine I told you to ask for?"

"Oh, yeah, that! You should've seen Eugene's face when he saw that underwear! Wait, you don't know what I'm talking about, right? No wait, you told Rapunzel to come with me to the Corona Lab...oh...OH...OH-MY-ELSA! You prepared that underwear package, didn't ya!?"

And then Anna just burst out laughing, so badly that she was literally bent over laughing her guts out. Elsa couldn't help but feel a little concerned.

"Okay, I get it, you think it's very funny. Now you can stop hyperventilating."

"No...but...like...when he opened the package and saw his ugly green with pink hearts boxers sitting oh so unceremoniously on top of the dry ice, you know, with all that mystical-looking mist and all, and then he picked it up and that epic jaw drop when he...when he saw..."

She couldn't continue anymore, kneeling down to the ground hugging her belly, probably because it was too painful to stand anymore, or she was so out of breath that she was starting to feel faint. Elsa sighed, shaking her head.

"That his boxers were frozen solid, right?" Elsa finished for her, "Yes, I know. I don't need to remember that I was the one who dumped his wet boxers into liquid nitrogen for that specific effect. It's still quite fresh in my mind and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing."

That prompted another round of laughter in the younger girl, not that she had really stopped at all to begin with. She just kept on saying "His face...his face!" and couldn't finish her sentence. Elsa could just pat Anna's back in hopes of calming her down.

"I am sure it must've been very amusing, Anna. I'm starting to understand why Weselton asked me to derive the Navier-Stokes equations on the spot during my oral exam. Knowing full well I'm a biologist, I'm sure he was really looking forward to laughing in my face just as Rapunzel and you most likely just did to Eugene. Poor guy."

When Anna finally recovered enough to speak again, she placed a hand on Elsa's shoulder to steady herself, then said, "You talk as though you weren't the one who came up with the idea. Like...how did you even trick the Corona Lab into taking the package to begin with?"

"I just went to receiving, stole their real package, swapped the antibodies with underwear, and put it back there. Now you better get Rapunzel to return the antibodies else their lab manager would go crazy. That stuff is worth a good two thousand dollars."

And the way Elsa said it in such a deadpan made Anna burst out laughing again.

"Holy Shit! I just...I don't know what to say about you, Elsa! You're so...sweet!"

Elsa narrowed her icy gaze in a display of skepticism before turning her back to Anna while pretending to work, "Right, swapping my committee member's lab's very expensive package of antibodies for frozen underwear is apparently very sweet of me..."

"Well, if you have to say it that way," Anna grinned, sneaking up to Elsa to hug her from behind. The older girl nearly yelped in surprise, but did manage to keep her composure. Noting the way Elsa stiffened made Anna giggle, the sound of which tickled the back of Elsa's neck, leaving her squirming.

"I thought it was sweet of you to go to such lengths for my amusement," Anna whispered.

Feeling her entire body flush red, especially where Anna's breath was caressing her skin, made Elsa grumble in an almost inaudible tone, "...I think you just love making me embarrassed like this..."

"Well, that too."

"Anna!"

Anna dodged the playful punch, and straightened herself to get back on topic, "Anyway, I'll ask Rapunzel to return the bottle of glycine after she weighs out what we need. And the antibodies too, can't forget that. You think you'll be ready by then?"

Ready for the promised date. Yes, now that Elsa thought about it, she couldn't help but blush even more.

She was gonna go shopping with Anna, then Anna would make her dinner, at Anna's place and...and then...then...What the hell was Elsa even thinking!?

"Umm...ye...yes...I'll be ready," she answered, but no, she really didn't think she would ever be ready.

End of Chapter 17

And thus finally concludes the story of Eugene's boxers?