Surprise!

Elsa had sat down with Olaf after Anna left. Elsa wanted to pay her, take her out, do something to thank her and apologize, but Anna had declined politely. She had papers to grade, after all, and a show to catch up on. After thanking Anna profusely, she watched Anna drive off in her little Prius before returning to her child.

She had him turn off the TV, coaxing him to the crook of her arm so she could snuggle with him while they talked. It made it easier, less like a reprimand.

His big eyes had pierced her heart when they filled with tears after she explained to him that what he said wasn't okay. He apparently hadn't even been aware of it, recalling no memory of the word. Elsa had softly wiped his cheeks of tears as he said he was sorry, but Elsa assured him that they weren't mad at him. He just needed to be careful.

And so do I, she tells herself now.

It's a couple of weeks after that awkward conversation. Olaf is, of course, healthy as a horse, bouncing back and better than ever. Whatever Anna did worked wonders, and Elsa really wanted to take notes. Anna had, however, caught a small head cold after the fact, but Elsa made sure to take care of her this time to repay her. A substitute had been called in one Wednesday, Anna texting Elsa her reason why. Elsa decided to work from home, but she really went to Anna's side, acting as her nurse for the day.

A nurse who ended up getting seduced by a sickly Anna into sex regardless of how ill she felt.

Elsa was lucky she didn't catch a cold. Rather, she had caught a severe case of Florence Nightingale Syndrome as she went down on her patient, coaxing her into a well-deserved orgasm.

Now that both Olaf and Anna are well, life is back to normal. Or well, as normal as it can be. Elsa could feel a small bit of unease whenever Anna is around Olaf since that night, though. She's always making sure she isn't overstepping any further than they should. Elsa wishes that Anna wouldn't, but she understands why. She wonders sometimes if they truly are allowing this relationship to get away from them, to get out of their control. No matter how careful they are, something slips, doesn't it? It's been like this since the very beginning, after all.

One-night stand, but Anna is Olaf's teacher. They try to be friends instead, but end up dating.

Maybe try to put off sex, but that ends quickly. They want to take things slow, but they introduce their relationship to Olaf. Anna's coming over more often, spending time with them, and Olaf's getting attached. . .

And so is Anna.

Despite those hesitances, Elsa can see it. The small mannerisms Anna does while caring for Olaf or whenever she's in his presence. Smoothing out his hair, listening intently, getting excited whenever he shows her a piece of art he drew. The sparkle in her eye is one Elsa is keenly familiar with. She is, after all, that embodiment of that sparkle—her heart leaping with pride and joy when Olaf shows off his talents and cuteness. He's her little boy, quickly becoming Anna's whether they like it or not.

Obviously she can't blame Anna entirely. And not because Olaf is charming her into it, but because Anna's been around Olaf in more ways than being his mother's girlfriend. Anna teaches him for hours a day, five days a week. They're only stoking the fire by having her come over on weekends.

The boundaries they attempted to have are long gone by now, and neither of them want to admit it. Reeling them back in is almost futile, yet they try.

Elsa heaves a sigh, getting back to work, but only after she checks her phone in hopes that Anna has texted her at some point. Met with a blank phone, Elsa raises her wrists, ready to type out some notes—then her desk phone rings. Sally's calling.

Elsa puts it on speaker. "Yes?"

"Elsa, someone is here for you," Sally informs her, her voice slightly strained.

Blonde brows furrow. "Do. . . do I have a meeting?"

"No, but he says it's important."

"Okay? Send them in." They hang up. There's a pause before the door to her office opens. Elsa glances up and her eyes widen, blood running ice cold.

Inside strides a tall, handsome man with auburn hair and impressive sideburns. He smiles at Elsa, an almost snide smile, and it sends a chill down her spine. The last time she saw this man, he had been glaring murderous daggers after her. What on Earth could he be smiling about?

"Hans Westergaard." Elsa's lip curls. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"Now, that's no way to greet guest," Hans says, still smiling. "I don't get a hello or a good afternoon?"

"No. Besides, I thought you'd never set foot in my office again."

"Elsa, don't you believe I'm here for a civil purpose?"

Elsa shoots him a deadpan look. Hans chuckles and invites himself to sit down across from her, resting a manila envelope on his lap. Elsa glances down at it briefly. He makes himself at home, looking around the office with mild interest. He's clearly not making this meeting short, which disturbs Elsa.

Years ago, she had shamelessly written an article on Hans' father, Dr. Harald Westergaard, and his horrid ways of practicing medicine after her own grandmother received rather poor healthcare from him, nearly dying due to the mistake in prescriptions. Elsa's grandmother didn't want to press charges, believing it was merely a simple mistake that was easily fixed, but Elsa had never liked Brayden and his methods whenever she had visited.

Fueled with an itch to write, a degree in journalism, and a vendetta, Elsa set a goal to expose him for the monster he was. She even managed to interview former patients, all finally relieved to share their stories of despicable bedside manners, lack of empathy, and content rule bending. Hans is also a doctor, so his name was dragged through the mad after his father's merely by relation. Elsa honestly had no clue whether Hans was a responsible doctor or not, since she only met him once while her grandmother was at the hospital (twice if one counts the way he glowered at her after the whole ordeal), but she knows ruining his father's reputation ultimately ruined the Westergaard name.

All thirteen Westergaard children—they breed like rabbits, she had thought to herself when she was researching them—were held in high regard in whatever hoity toity position they had across Arendelle. All Ivy League grads, all ridiculously spoiled.

She had no regrets, however. She had exposed a man who wasn't doing his job right and putting people in danger. It even got her to where she is today, and her article was not only published in her magazine, but online and in several newspapers. The Westergaards did try to sue her, but her lawyer told them that the evidence against Harald was strong enough to show her article wasn't merely slander. In fact, his employers opened a case against Harald shortly after the article was published and promptly fired him when all turned out to have been true. It had been a mess after the fact, but it was worth it to her.

Hans is the youngest child, and it was him who had been the most passionate about getting Elsa fired from her job and collecting all that she owned. But he had no case. His brothers eventually gave up, and they told Hans to give it up as well.

So, having only Hans present in her office, as if he's visited plenty of times before, unsettles her. The air in the room is thick with anxiety and anticipation, Elsa practically on the edge of her seat as she waits for him to bring up the past.

His eyes fall on a photo of Olaf. He reaches over and takes the picture off her desk, and Elsa is too taken aback to stop him.

"Is this your nephew?" he asks conversationally.

"No, I'm an only child. That's my son," she says in a monotone.

"Your son, hm? Who's the lucky father?"

"He doesn't have one. He was born via in vitro."

Hans' smile pulled slightly wider. "Ah, yes, that's right. I thought I remembered that you were lesbian, but I wasn't so sure if my memory was correct. Last I saw you, you were dating a woman, correct?" He doesn't wait for Elsa's confirmation. "Is she the other mother?" He's still holding the picture, seemingly studying it intently, focusing on Olaf's face.

"I'm his only mother." It almost pains her to say it after that fateful weekend. It almost sounds like a reminder to herself.

"Shame." There's a pause, Elsa watching him carefully. There's a sudden feeling of queasiness when Hans asks, "Do you know who the father is?"

"I don't. . . and why do you care?" Elsa takes charge of her arm and goes to snatch the photo from him, but he pulls it away swiftly. She glares at him. "What games are you playing, Westergaard?"

"No games." Still smiling. "Just curious."

Elsa's jaw sets. "Why are you here?"

"To deliver news." He finally sets down the photo, facing it out towards him. He stands slowly, walking over to the window and gazing out to the city below. Elsa is glued to her seat, merely following him with her eyes. "I was looking through some medical files the other day, hoping to find some information for one of my patients, when I stumbled upon your file. I couldn't help myself. I had to see what the files of the woman who disgraced my father had to say."

"That's. . . illegal. . ."

Hans goes on, as though he's unable to hear her. "I came across files from a little under eight years ago, and discovered that you had. . ." He meets her eyes through the reflection in the glass. "Olaf Fönn; six pounds, four once, born July 1, 2010. Conceived via in vitro conception."

Elsa stares at him, face burning with rage. "You had no right to look at my files. And if you knew that he was in vitro, why the hell did you ask me about his father?"

"Because there was no mention of a father. No record. . . at least, not to your knowledge. You asked for an anonymous donor with recessive traits and a university degree, according to your file. You didn't want to know who the father was going to be." He turns and strides back over to her desk, picking up the manila envelop he left on the chair. "However, the hospital has record of Olaf's father, but the papers relinquishing custody aren't included. In the eyes of the court, his birth was all thanks to legitimate conception, i.e. sexual intercourse." He takes out a small stack of xeroxed papers from the envelope and sets them down in front of Elsa. "Therefore, all this means, by law, I am a legal parent of. . . our son." He moves the top paper off to show his files and proof that he is the donor.

Her heart stops and her mouth runs dry. She stares blankly up at Hans for a beat before whispering hoarsely, "You?"

"Yes, me. I am the donor."

The more that she stares at him, the more she can pick out the facial features he and Olaf share. The shape of his lips, the shape of his eyes, and the nose. The nose Elsa had a feeling he got from the donor was now more apparent than ever; long, slightly pointed. Yes, Olaf had more of Elsa's features, and perhaps his traits are a combination of hers and Hans', but the nose is the most obvious.

Her head is spinning, and she feels like she's going to vomit. She never wanted to meet Olaf's donor father. It was supposed to remain anonymous. Dammit, she knew she signed those papers. . . right? It's been so long. They would have reported them missing. . . right!?

This couldn't be real.

"Of course, I had no idea until the other day. I knew I had sperm stored somewhere because I wanted to be generous, but I had no idea if it had been used. I'm very glad to have stumbled upon this piece of information, to discover it was used for you," Hans continues, placing a hand over his heart. "I have a son."

Elsa shoots to her feet, Hans stepping back slightly in surprise. She's shaking, fists at her side, trying to reel herself in as much as she can. "You have no son. He is not your son. This paperwork doesn't give you a right—"

"Actually, the missing paper does. I have a legal right. Without the paperwork giving you full custody, there's no proof of in vitro conception."

"That's impossible," she spits. "I had to have signed everything. I double checked."

He merely shrugs helplessly, but his smile is so malicious that it makes her physically sick. "I'm prepared to go to court and win my half of custody of our boy."

Elsa sees red. She rounds her desk and shoves him backward. He stumbles but catches his balance on the armchair. "How dare you!? How dare you use my son like this!? How dare you come into my life and try to destroy is from the inside out!?" he yells. "Who the hell do you think you are!?"

"I had no intention on finding this out. I wanted something different: a record of addiction, a mental illness, something. I wanted to ruin your name like you ruined my father's, my brother's, and my own." He advances on her, and she suddenly feels petrified at the fire in his eyes. She retreats slightly, but the back of her legs hit her desk. "My entire family is disgraced because of your foolish, nosy actions. I have a right to this child because the work is missing, and if that's what I have to do to make your life as miserable as possible, then I will. I intend on winning, Elsa. And when I do, you'll only be seeing my boy on the weekends. You'll rue the day you ever slandered the Westergaard name." He glowers down at her, but his smug grin remains on his face. "You should get yourself a lawyer."

"Get the hell out of my office," Elsa grinds out, "before I call security and have you thrown out."

He calmly collects his documents, slipping them back in the envelope. "My lawyer will contact you shortly. See you soon." He chuckles darkly, exiting the room.

As soon as the door shuts, and Elsa watches him enter the elevator through the glass window that shows her the office, she spins around on her heel and screams. Outside, Jane spills her coffee, Meg jumps as she writes on a post-it, creating a long scratch on the paper, Sally turns in alarm, and the entire office zeroes its attention on Elsa's door.

Once all the air leaves Elsa's lungs, she takes in another deep breath and screams again. Jane and Meg run in, followed by Jasmine and Aurora. It takes the four of them to calm down their boss. A cup of tea and a soothing talking down later, Elsa is sitting in her desk chair, head in her hands, too angry to be embarrassed by her behavior. They all stare at her, unsure of what to say.

Then, without warning, Elsa breaks down into tears. They rush to her side, but words of assurance fall unto deaf ears.

"Bullshit!" Anna shouts again, pacing in front of Elsa and Kristoff.

They're in Elsa's front room. Olaf and Sven are both at Rapunzel's for a playdate, Elsa having called him and Anna over to tell them her grave news. Once she explained what happened in her office, there was instant uproar from them both.

Anna, however, is beside herself. She had apparently stopped by the library and gathered all the legal books she could check out, and now they're lying in front of them on the coffee table after being examined for a moment's time. They had given up since most of the language is beyond them, but it didn't really matter. It's up to the lawyers to battle it out on their behalf, and Elsa is just going to have to play along.

She's staring at her mug of tea, tired from crying, tired from the now constant phone calls she's had to make to her lawyer, Kai Morstad. He had done thorough research to see if Hans is incorrect, but sadly came up with nothing. It is entirely legal what Hans is doing despite how awful and cruel it is

Elsa feels as though the tables are turned on her. Once Hans had searched to see if Elsa was in the wrong when she had exposed his father, but he came up empty handed and was told her actions were legal. This time, Elsa is scrambling for a loophole and finding nothing.

She had to explain this to Anna and Kristoff, yet they couldn't fathom it.

"It's evil!" Anna wails, tugging at her braids. "Who does he think he is!?"

"Olaf's father, apparently," says Kristoff sourly.

"He's not, though!" Anna wants to kick something, to find Hans and punch him square in the face. "He's. . . he's. . . he's just the donor! And he's sick for doing this. Doesn't he know the psychological impact it can have on Olaf!?"

"We're keeping Olaf as far away from this as possible," Elsa says. "I still have that right since he's in my custody alone." The word "custody" felt awkward on her tongue. She's just his mother, but now she has to fight to keep him as her son?

"Why can't they draw up new papers?" Anna says.

"Because Hans is now in the know. He has the legal right to demand shared custody at this point. If I had been able to get the papers back in my file long before, then this wouldn't be happening."

"He had to have done something to them," says Kristoff.

"I have no doubt that's possible, but we have no proof." Elsa is slumping, almost as if she's already lost. "For all we know, they could have been long gone in the tangled web that is bureaucracy."

"Can't you counter-sue for a breech in personal privacy?" Anna asks, hope in her eyes. "Or something like that?"

"I could, but I want to get this done and over with first."

"What if you lose?" Kristoff says, but fearfully.

"I. . . I can't." Elsa's voice breaks, and Anna shoots Kristoff a reproachful look. He clears his throat and shuts his mouth. "He's my little boy," Elsa keeps on, voice hoarse. "I can't lose him." She looks up at Anna, tears in her eyes. "I can't lose him, Anna."

Anna sits beside her and wraps her up in a hug. "You won't, Elsa. You're not alone, okay? We're gonna fight this together, and we're gonna find ways to make Hans pay for all he's done."

Elsa is quiet for a moment, then she whispers, "No."

"Huh?"

"No, Anna. I'm sorry, but. . . I have to fight this on my own. Your support means the world to me, but I have to do this. Olaf is my responsibility."

There's a flash of hurt on Anna's face, but it fades the moment is comes. She draws back from Elsa and sets her hands in her lap. "Okay. I understand."

Kristoff looks from Elsa to Anna and back again. Elsa stands and runs her hands through her hair, taking Anna's place in the pacing. "All I need is your support. Both of you. Just. . . be there if I need it. But I can't let you get involved. There's too much going on, and I don't want Olaf to think that things are different."

"You can't hide this from him," says Kristoff.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to avoid psychological damage, as Anna pointed out." Elsa hugs her arms to her chest. "If suddenly this man comes into his life, claiming he's Olaf's father. . . he's so used to just having me." Her eyes land on Anna for a beat. "And, well, he's expecting another woman to be his other mother at some point."

"Right," Kristoff responds, noticing how reserved Anna is acting now. "It'd be a little confusing for him."

"So, the right thing to do is to make sure he and Hans don't make any contact unless Hans absolutely must see him," groans Elsa. "I hope that doesn't happen."

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

Elsa nods numbly. Anna crosses her arms, scowling lightly. "I still think it's soooooo not okay to just let this happen. You have to do something else."

"I'm fighting back, Anna," Elsa says hotly. "I'm not gonna roll over and let him take Olaf."

"I hope you bring up the awful things that you said he's done to you."

"You think I won't?"

"I don't know, Elsa!" Anna throws up her hands. "If it were my son on the line, I'd be banging on the judge's door and explain everything right then and there!"

"Well, Olaf isn't your son, Anna!" Elsa snaps. "You're just his teacher!"

Anna's mouth snaps shut. Kristoff is awkwardly studying a corner in the room, eyes wide. Elsa seems to realize her words, and she reaches out to Anna.

"Oh my God, Anna, I—"

"I should go." Anna grabs the books off the table, voice thick.

"Anna. . ."

Anna rushes to the door, slamming it shut behind her, leaving Elsa and Kristoff staring after her. Elsa swears angrily, pulling at her braid. She ignores Kristoff's concerned, questioning gaze. Instead, she sinks on the couch beside him again, burying her face in her hands. He places a hand on her shoulder, and she feels him give it a squeeze.

"Do I just fuck up relationships, Kristoff?" she asks, voice muffled.

He chuckles softly. "No, you don't." His smile dissolves. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you guys, but you should really talk it out."

"We did. . . or, at least, I thought we did." Elsa lifts her head, but keeps her focus fixated on her hands. "We just talked about what happened, but not how she really felt about it."

"What did happen?" Elsa explains everything, Kristoff listening politely. "Oh. Wow, okay. That's big."

"No kidding."

"And you don't know how she really feels about him calling her that?"

"No. She looked guilty, though. Like it was her fault."

"To be fair, she definitely picks favorites in her students," he jokes.

Elsa shoots him a deadpan look. "Kristoff. . ."

"Sorry." He sighs deeply. "Listen, Elsa. You can't expect her not to get attached to him. Her relationship with Olaf is different than it would be in any different circumstance. It's not like he barely sees her, not like she's just a girlfriend. They see one another far too much for it to be a casual connection. She loves him."

"It's not that I don't want that for them. They adore each other, but. . . it's not healthy. Anna and I don't have a solid future. We don't know where we'll be six months from now, and I can't imagine Olaf's heartbreak if a woman he starts calling 'Mom' is suddenly gone from the picture." Her eyes swim with tears. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"What part?"

"All of it. We should have just put our hook-up to bed and moved on." A thick sniffle. Then, "This can't go on anymore, Kristoff."

"I think you need to communicate that to Anna before you make any rash decisions. See how she feels. Talk about what could be done to save this relationship before you end it."

Her stomach performed aching somersaults, but Kristoff had a point. It might just be Elsa feeling this way, but ever since that night, she and Anna haven't been the same. There's a hesitant possessiveness in Elsa, a confused desperation in Anna, and poor Olaf is stuck in the middle of it all. In the middle of Elsa versus Hans now, too.

If not for her, it should be for Olaf.

The first day of the trial, Elsa feels ill. She's putting off talking to Anna, which she knows isn't healthy, but she's hoping that they'll be fixed soon. Luckily, Anna had accepted her apology for that snappish comment, and they had moved on. Now that Elsa's been submerged in this ridiculous custody battle, however, they've hardly had time for each other.

Which isn't great for them trying to mend things.

Elsa is sitting awkwardly in front of the courtroom, feeling as though she's waiting for impending doom. Men and women dressed in sharp suits walk by her, ignoring her as they move along to their important business. Some talk seriously on their expensive phones, some murmur to their clients as they move on. Kai is sitting beside her and going over some paperwork as they wait. Suddenly, they hear someone call Elsa's name, and they both look down the hall to see Hans walking—no, strutting over to them, as though he's already won the case.

Behind him is a stick-thin man with owlish glasses, an obvious toupee, and a beak-like nose with a bushy mustache beneath it. Hans towers over him, but the little man is intimidating all on his own.

"Mr. Weselton," Kai says, voice tired.

"Mr. Morstad," Weselton responds shortly.

"Elsa." Hans grins a smug grin. "I'm surprised you're still fighting for what clearly isn't yours alone."

Elsa keeps her mouth shut, glaring daggers at him.

"Mr. Westergaard, need I remind you that anything you say can be held against you in court?" Kai says, lifting a brow. "This isn't a schoolyard where you can tease with barely any repercussions."

Hans frowns deeply, Weselton stepping forward. "You can discuss all that with your client, Mr. Morstad."

Kai rolls his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind." He stands. "Come on, Elsa. We can go in now."

Elsa follows him inside, trying to steady her breathing. The courtroom itself is small. This being a family case, there is the bare minimum. No jury, Elsa notes. Kai told her that the court will make the decision. The public technically has no business in these affairs because nobody is actually on trial for a crime.

She timidly sits on the defense's side, Kai beside her once again, shuffling through papers and humming to himself every now and again. Hans looks too relaxed on his side, that smug smile back on his face. Weselton doesn't appear worried either, opening up a briefcase as thin as he is, producing papers of his own.

The clock overhead the judge's bench is ticking loudly in the silence. A bailiff is pacing slowly nearby, and a stenographer is setting up a little ways in front of Elsa. She hates this silence, she hates that she's even here. No matter what Kai attempted to do in order to negotiate, Hans demanded there be a trial. He seems to be going out of his way to humiliate Elsa and to drag this out for as long as he can.

In the words of Anna: it's evil.

The judge comes into the room, and they all rise in respect. He tells them to sit, and the trial begins.

Before you go, I have a quick thing to say.

So, I've been working a lot this past year. A lot, so my fics are not my main focus. Also, while I love Frozen, it's not my current obsession at the present time, and I usually update/write according to whatever has my intention.

Regarding Teach Me, I do intend on finishing it. . . but I cannot make any final promises. However, as it stands now, Teach Me is my current fic that will be updated the most.

ALSO. ABOUT HANS-I asked a friend of mine, who is in Child Law. He said that what Hans is doing (as far as fighting for custody goes, lol) is technically legal in the eyes of the court. I made sure to do my research.

Thanks for hanging in there.

See you next time!