CHAPTER WARNINGS: Sexting (kinda), incest kisses, Helsa.

NOTES: There's been a lot of buildup to this, and here it is: the brief Helsa. Hopefully you can either suffer through this chapter, or skip over it and pick up things on the other side (you'll be able to figure out what happened through context). Whichever strategy appeals most to you, by all means!

MVP: Okay, I feel like I should clear something up for you. Not about this fic, but about life in general. What you're doing is slut-shaming and it's a toxic and disrespectful thing to do. I know you're only applying it to a fictional character, and that you didn't mean to "offend" but seriously, Elsa being turned on by someone flirting with her - HOWEVER ill-advised the flirting and the way it was done - does not make her a "whore", it makes her someone having a totally normal, psychological and physiological reaction. Women are allowed to feel desire and express that desire. Yes, even for more than one person, if that's how things work out. It doesn't make them "whores", it makes them human.

Also important: "whore" is a very offensive term, even if she really were becoming a prostitute/sex worker (which she is not). It's a word that's come to be synonymous with "trash". Reducing those women to being somehow less than a normal person is wrong on so many levels.

~ CHAPTER NINE ~

The rest of Elsa's day was too bizarre. Cindy would stop by to remind her of how sorry she was, bringing her another mango smoothie as a peace offering. That was relatively nice, all things considered. Maybe the two of them could build on that and become something resembling acquaintances.

The email she got from Belle with a phone number turned out to be a little less nice… because shortly after adding it to her contacts and texting a "Hello?", she received an upskirt shot. And the colour of the skirt fabric matched what Belle had been wearing. When she sent back a string of obscenities she rarely spoke aloud, reprimanding her coworker, the short reply was, "Yes, Mistress." Curling her lip, she flipped her phone into silent mode for a few hours.

Then she was on her way home to get ready for her "big date". It felt like less of a big deal to her now than it had when it was first arranged, but she still felt butterflies in her stomach as she waited to pick up dinner for Anna from a dine-in restaurant's curbside service. Did she even remember how to have a date? Hopefully, it would be like riding a bicycle; she could hop back on and remember everything instantly.

That comparison put all kinds of unfortunate mental images into her mind. She cut herself off right there.

Anna was waiting with ill-concealed excitement the moment she walked in. "THERE you are!" she crowed, dragging her inside. "We gotta get you ready!"

"Okay, okay," Elsa laughed at her with an indulgent smile. "Don't go overboard, I just want to look nice. Not like I'm going to a wedding, and definitely not like I want in his pants."

"Don't you, though?" The elbow in her ribs stopped her from pursuing that, though she did laugh it off.

Not much later than that, Elsa was dressed in the nicest thing she had in her closet that wasn't quite "formalwear": a simple black A-line with a pale blue cardigan over the top. It was a little shorter than she normally would chance, falling just above the knee, but Anna insisted over and over until she relented. She completed it with black heeled sandals, belting them in at the ankle.

"You look gorgeous," Anna gushed from right behind Elsa as she observed herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of her closet door. Much though she hated to admit it, she felt relatively pretty for once. Even if the date was a disaster, she was happy with that aspect. "Can I get a pic?"

Grumbling, Elsa posed while Anna fetched the phone from her purse — still on silent — and snapped a quick few, oohing and ahhing over her all the while. Once she was both annoyed and flattered as much as she wanted to allow, she snapped, "Thank you. Now, if only I had something in that closet that would make my hips disappear…"

"Black is very slimming," Anna said as she replaced the phone. "Besides, you are beautiful just the way y-"

"Okay, okay, Bruno Mars."

Laughing, Anna gripped her shoulders and massaged them gently. "I'm surprised you even know who that is; figured you'd reach for the Christina Aguilera reference instead."

"I forgot about that song," Elsa breathed. That jogged her memory, and she turned to Anna and said, "That reminds me — before I go, I want you to help me figure out how to download Janet Jackson's music onto my iPod."

"Why?" But she caught the sad look in her sister's eyes. After a few seconds, she gasped. "Ohh… because of Mom. Or, well, I shouldn't assume that for you, but is it?"

"Yeah. 'Escapade' came on the radio the other day, and I just… I miss her."

She purposefully left it up in the air whether "her" was Janet or their mother, and Anna didn't push her to elaborate. Nodding to herself, the younger sister gave her a gentle kiss on the temple and said, "I can do that for you. First, we have to bling you out. What do you have in your jewellery box?"

They compared a few pieces, settling on a simple silver chain with a blue teardrop pendant that suited her cardigan, complete with matching earrings. Elsa had asked about their grandmother's ring, but Anna made the good point that, even if it wasn't on the "engagement finger", she still might not want to do a ring. So she settled on a simple tennis bracelet that had been given to her by her boss in lieu of a Christmas bonus one year.

"Sounds like he has a crush on you," Anna giggled as she fastened it for her.

"No, no," Elsa replied, though she was smiling. "Weselton's like that with everyone; I remember he once gave Belle a fancy brooch." Though at the thought of Belle, her expression soured slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, it's nothing. Just a little office misunderstanding from earlier today. I'll straighten it out tomorrow."

Nodding, Anna reached up to smooth over her sister's shoulders, then smiled up into her face. "You look beautiful tonight, okay?"

"You always tell me I look beautiful," she sighed.

"Fine, then you look beautifuller. That work? 'Cause I'm not gonna say you didn't look beautiful before, if that's what you're trying to get me to do."

"Okay, okay," Elsa giggled, embracing her sister. "Let's just put on my makeup so I can go get this out of the way."

As they pulled out the makeup palette, Anna whispered, "You say that like you know it's going to be awful. You don't! Maybe Hans is gonna be the one for you!"

"He won't. Though I'm optimistic of having a good time, I just… I gave up on finding 'the one'. Saves me a lot of disappointment if I don't have any hope in the first place."

"Elsa…" Sighing, she pulled Elsa in for a quick kiss. It surprised her, since they hadn't been doing that of late, but Anna didn't draw it out, and didn't press for either of their mouths to open. More than sisters, less than more. Then she pulled back and whispered, "You're an incredible, vibrant woman. If Hans doesn't see that, it's his loss. And somebody will someday, okay?"

Catching her breath, Elsa merely nodded and let Anna get on with it.

~ o ~

The name "Le Bonhomme de Neige Heureux" seemed like a mouthful to Elsa, but she hadn't been the one to choose that particular restaurant. It had been years since she went there, and that was when it went under the name "Les Oiseaux de Cristal" then. Funny how it remained a French bistro, even with a complete change in ownership.

When she walked inside, she caught her breath; it was incredible. The crystalline theme had been retained, tweaked to remove the birds and replace them with other sparse, wintry themes. But she couldn't let that pull her focus. Shaking herself, she turned to the maitre'd and gave her name, and was led to the table.

Hans turned out to be a bit younger than he seemed in the photograph, but not to a degree that made her uncomfortable. The simple, dark blue suit with the tie of royal purple showed he was serious enough about the date to have dressed, but not a pompous ass who felt the need to go full-on penguin. He had a single rose in his hand when she approached, and she could feel his pale eyes raking her form. If she hadn't been growing used to feeling wrong-footed and embarrassed lately, she probably would have turned around and left, but compared to her coworker finding a vibrator outside her office, this was nothing.

"Well, well," Hans said as he handed the rose to her. "Here we are, Miss Elsa."

"We are, Mr. Westerberg. If that is your real name."

As he pulled out her chair for her — which she had to give him points for — he said, "It is. But I respect your choice not to list your last name; dating is such a tedious affair, is it not?"

"It is." Leaning in once they were both seated, she said, "I'd actually like to confess something to you, if you don't mind. Just to get this out of the way."

"Oh? Go on, I'm all ears."

"This wasn't my idea. I haven't responded to any of those messages in a long time, they just… not enough successes. My meddling sister was the one who saw it open on my computer and dashed off a message to you."

His thin, bow-like lips pursed as he nodded understandably. "Mm. Yes, I've heard that one before; you don't want to admit that you liked my profile more than the other ones. To give me that advantage. That's fine, I understand."

"No, really; it was my sister, I assure you." Shrugging as she arranged her silverware to busy her nervous hands, she added, "Not that I wasn't already looking at your profile. I was interested, yes. But she was the one that typed up the first response and sent it without my asking her to do any such thing."

"Alright, I believe you," he laughed, with markedly less skepticism. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything. My apologies."

After sizing him up a few more seconds, she nodded and said, "Good. Now… what shall we have?"

"Well, is there anything you aren't fond of?"

"Fish. And anything in the insect family; no escargot, or anything like that. Otherwise, I'm pretty flexible."

Hans was just nodding as he contemplated when a well-dressed young man with a rather pear-shaped figure approached the table, smiling broadly. "Good evening! My name's Olaf, and I'll be waiting on you two cuties today!"

"Hello, Olaf," Elsa laughed, unable to help being charmed by how boisterous he was. "You… seem familiar, have we met?"

"Umm, I don't think so," he began with a slight squint, his smile never leaving.

"Elsa Nieves?"

Folding his arms over his chest, he tapped his foot for a few minutes. Then he gasped and pointed at her. "You were my Big Sister!"

"I'm sorry, what?" Hans asked in mild confusion, looking between them.

"That's right," she gasped at last. "Oh my goodness, it's been such a long- I can't believe it! How have you been?"

"Good, good! You know, I think I still have that clay handprint Christmas ornament somewhere! You acted so proud of me!" In a stage whisper, he added, "Even though it was a pretty ugly thing, right?"

"You did your best! How old could you have been, six, seven?" She was laughing when she caught the unimpressed look on Hans's face, so she said, "Oh, sorry; at our elementary school, we had this program where the sixth graders sometimes were asked to help mentor the kindergarteners. I took part, and Olaf was my charge."

"Just one of those things," Olaf said with a warm chuckle as he withdrew his notepad. "And I'd keep catching up on old times, but I wouldn't want to get in trouble!" They were all still laughing when he leaned in and whispered, "Seriously, Chef Remy's cool with us making small talk and all that, but if we take too long he docks our pay."

Smiling gently, Elsa picked up her menu and said, "Then we shouldn't want to deprive you, Olaf. I'm glad things turned out pretty well for you, though, from the look of things."

"And you! Wow, you look so nice, Elsa! Isn't it nice that we're both doing nice?"

"Very nice," Hans sighed wearily. "Now then, if you're ready…?" When Olaf merely nodded, as if not trusting himself to speak more for fear he would make things take even longer, Hans nodded and said, "I will be ordering for the both of us, now that I know what to avoid."

Elsa favoured him with a small, demure smile. Inwardly, she was cringing; she hated when men did this. But he had at least asked what she didn't like first, so he was doing better than some of her past dates. Once Olaf had taken down their order — which Hans delivered in fluent French — he gave them a bow and another goofy smile before trotting off to inform the kitchen.

"So," Hans asked as he picked up his water glass. "You work over at Castle Dynamics? Good place to get into, from what I've heard. How long?"

"About six years. Of course, for the first two I was stuck in reception, but I worked my way up."

"I bet you did. You seem like a sharp woman who knows what she wants." His smirk was light, but present all the same. "I admire that."

"And I admire a man who can exercise a little restraint," she teased him very lightly. Before he could respond, Olaf returned. "Yes?"

"Champagne? If you guys wanna pop the cork, that's cool. We're not supposed to let you, but… it's just so much fun, right?"

"But we didn't order any champagne."

Hans cleared his throat. "Actually, I did, before you got here. Wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, it is! I just… typically, I don't drink, but…" Looking at Olaf's questioning glance, she waved a hand. "It's fine, I'll have a glass. Thank you."

Olaf popped the bottle open, then poured for them. They made small talk about work until the bread came, which Elsa avoided; she had specifically eaten a few of Anna's sweet potato fries out of her dinner so that she wouldn't appear overly piggish when eating in front of Hans. Nervousness tended to make her eat out of panic, and the less hungry she was to begin with, the less chance that might happen. So far, it was working.

"I grew up on an island off the coast of Louisiana, actually," Hans was telling her once their entrees had arrived and they were partway through them. His was a rare cut of steak with a side of poached leeks, which sounded good to Elsa. Unfortunately, for her, he had selected ratatouille and a pair of lightly sautéed truffles. While she appreciated that truffles were quite expensive, and they were certainly delicious, she wanted a bit more substance to her meal than that. As with most of their evening, she was partially pleased with it, but not overjoyed.

"Really? What must that have been like?"

"Very boring," he laughed as she took a sip of champagne. It was loosening both of their tongues a bit as the evening wore on. "My father worked in management at the Tabasco headquarters there. But he transferred to another office 'on the mainland', as he likes to say. When I was about nine."

"Really? Not to Arendelle Cove, I'm sure; there's not that much here in the way of a hot sauce industry."

"No, I'm afraid not. I moved here for my own work, maybe two years ago? Yeah, about that."

Nodding, she finished chewing her bite of vegetables before she responded. "I've never lived anywhere else. Always meant to, always wanted to… I don't know, see more of the world. But I've only been on a few short retreats, workshops. One was in Portland, that was pretty exciting."

"Really? I went to college in Portland!" They both shared a laugh, and Hans added, "Go, Pilots!" with a semi-sarcastic pump of his fist.

"So that makes more sense of why you ended up here," Elsa went on, more pushing her food around than eating it at this point. "This isn't anywhere special."

"Maybe it is." Reaching across the table, he took up one of her hands, and she had to fight down the urge to yank the hand away. She would see what he intended to do with it first. "Maybe you make it special."

Smirking at him, she muttered, "Oh, what a line."

"Is it working?"

"I'll tell you when I figure it out."

By the time they had settled on two dishes of chocolate mousse for dessert and were waiting for them to be brought out, Elsa had already decided; Hans was worth a second date. She wasn't sure of him beyond that, but she was having a nice time, and it seemed a shame not to see if Hans could repeat that success.

"That's so many brothers!" she was breathing with wide eyes.

"Isn't it?" he sighed bitterly. "Made it pretty difficult to get noticed in that household."

"I'm sure. But you seem to have done alright for yourself."

"Of course I have. Look where I am; in the company of a beautiful woman." When she rolled her eyes, he chuckled and added, "You don't much care for my flattery."

Relenting, she informed him, "I don't know if it's sincere or not."

"It is. I can't wait to see where the rest of the evening takes us. And that is as sincere as I can be, Mizz Elsa."

Something about the wolfish look in his eyes gave her pause. It wasn't exactly predatory, or even clearly lascivious. But he was implying possibilities in their evening that were not on the table for her. How could she address the situation without making it seem like she was assuming anything herself?

"Hans… I feel like I should have been clearer about my level of interest at the beginning of dinner. I do enjoy your company. However…"

"However?" he pressed.

"However, I don't want you to have a false impression. The evening won't 'take us' anywhere other than this restaurant. I'm not interested in rushing anything; if you want to try a second date, I would be open to it, but this one will be over when we leave. Separately."

He looked down at his mousse for a minute or so, debating, then let out a somewhat bitter laugh. "I was going to suggest a few drinks at a bar down the street. Not any common sports bar, of course; it's an upscale place. We could get better acquainted. You wouldn't even be open to that?"

"I'm sorry," she told him earnestly. "I want companionship, not just a quick fling. And I want to leave this dinner with both of us having enjoyed it, and save… anything else for another time."

"Alright," he sighed, daubing at the corners of his mouth with the napkin that had been in his lap. "Well, in that case, I guess I'll take my leave. It's been swell."

When she saw him scooting his chair back, she blinked in disbelief. "Aren't you even going to finish dessert? No one said you had to run off so soon."

"You did, when you told me this isn't going anywhere. At least, not faster than a snail's pace." The corner of his mouth quirked up as he nipped a billfold out of an inner coat pocket. "Funny, since you said you don't eat snails."

"It really has to be all or nothing?" she demanded, still taken aback at how quickly he flipped from charming to boorish. All of her paperback fantasies about the date were slipping away, and though they had been feeble, it still felt jarring for them to end so abruptly. "I don't want to go for drinks, and that's it? You're gone?"

"Listen," he told her with a pained smile. "You do seem like a nice woman. Bland, but nice. Unfortunately, I don't want bland-but-nice evenings; that's not what I'm after in life. I want passion, I want heat, I want sparks to fly! And with you, they just… aren't."

The more Hans spoke, the less she wanted him to say. "O-oh. Well… you certainly did a good job of pretending you weren't hating every minute I was here."

"Oh, 'hate' is such a strong word. I was bored, but I've been more bored, and I've been through truly awful evenings. This was very middle-road, that's all. Just like everything about you… your life, your dreams, your body…" He held up a finger at that point, eyes pointing up toward the ceiling as he reconsidered. "Well, I take that back; your face is exceptionally beautiful, no denying that. And your chest! If you started getting in a little more cardio, slimmed down those thighs, you could really be a knockout."

"Thank you very much," she whispered in complete exasperation, squeezing herself around the middle with both arms. Her cheeks were burning, she knew they were, but there was nothing to be done about that. They probably wouldn't stop for hours.

"Hey, you wanted to put all our cards on the table. I doubt I'm your ideal date, either; you didn't even send the reply yourself, remember?" Leaving several twenties on the table, he moved a butter dish to weigh them down, then stuffed the wallet back into his jacket. "But as I said, I've had far worse evenings. If you really want a second date after this, I'm around, but I really don't see the point, do you?"

Elsa didn't even reply. He tipped his champagne flute up and drained the rest of it, set it down, then stood to leave. Voice dull and lifeless, she managed to whisper, "Have a nice life."

"And you." Then he was gone.

Roughly five minutes later, Olaf approached and leaned over to ask, "Did your friend have some kind of emergency? Is he a doctor? I bet he's a doctor and got paged or whatever. Yeah."

Shaking her head, she sighed as she pressed her hands into her eyes. "No. He just… didn't think I was worth anymore of his valuable time, evidently."

"Whaaaat?" he drawled out, genuinely shocked at the revelation. "No way!"

"And maybe he's right."

"Right about what? That's silly, of course you're worth his time!" When Elsa didn't respond, he squirmed and took the money from the table, slipping it into the check that had been left on the corner previously. "Look, just… I'm no good at this kinda stuff. But I think if he said that to you, he was wrong. You're so pretty and nice, and if that's not what he wants, then he's probably a huge jerk."

"Olaf…" Another sigh, this time from realising that there were still good people in the world. "Thank you. I… I think I'll go home, but thank you for trying to cheer me up."

"Hang on a sec." Reaching back into the black leather check presenter, he withdrew one of the twenties. "Guy overpaid by a lot. Normally I'd take that as an awesome tip, but after what he did… I want you to have it."

Her mouth hung agape as he pressed it into her lifeless hand. "What?! Oh, no, I- that isn't- you earned that money, you've been wonderful!"

"Well, I try my best," he said with a little chuckle. "But if I really earned the money, and it's mine, then that means I can do what I want with it. Go get yourself a drink, or some new shoes, or see a movie. Something fun that'll maybe cheer you up a little! Just don't think about that creep, he's not worth it. Not for a nice lady like you."

At odds with how she felt before, gutted by Hans's assessment of her, now was the moment she began to cry. With a whispered, "Thank you," she pressed the bill between her hands and nodded up at him, managing a weak smile when he patted her on the shoulder. It might not have made any sense to say so many years later, when they were both adults, but she found herself whispering, "You're a good boy."

~ To Be Continued ~