Author Notes: This story contains themes that may make some readers uncomfortable. If femslash or the thought of two consenting adults engaging in a relationship that is considered taboo in the real world offends you, then this story is not for you. I welcome reviews and critiques, but the world already has enough hate, so please keep your flames to yourself. There are many other wonderful stories on this site, and I won't be offended if you choose one of them instead. Standard Disclaimer: I don't make claims on any Disney trademarks/copyrights and mean no infringement on them or anybody else.

Special Note: The original chapter 6 was too long, so I split it into three shorter chapters. I got a little too laser targeted on getting it done before surgery and didn't pay attention to the length. This chapter contains the post-tea scenes from the original.

Chapter 8.

"Bath, bath, bath." Anna sat on the edge of the bed and stared toward the bathroom door. A bath might relax her, but she'd already taken one before dinner and didn't come up with many solutions then; she was doubtful another one would have any more success.

What was I thinking? She got up and started pacing, though she took more of a meandering, slow path out into her sitting room than a straight line. What on earth possessed me to kiss her on the lips? They were two good questions and two she hadn't the slightest inkling of how to answer.

She searched her memory; had Elsa ever kissed her there? If she had, then maybe she could laugh it off as returning the favor. There was no such memory, and she knew what she'd done couldn't be laughed off, no matter the reason.

"Elsa said it was ok, but it wasn't. She was too … what was she?" Anna reached the bookcase and ran her fingers absently across the spines of the books in it.

They were mostly textbooks, poetry, history, and the other things a princess would be expected to read. Interspersed among these, however, were several less well-bound volumes, books she'd stolen from the library through the years.

She'd never asked why such tawdry titles would be in the Royal Library; it made her slightly guilty to take them, but it was better her doing that than her mother finding them. The idea of Iduna reading something titled Tales of Lust from an Old Man's Young Wife or worse, Seduction of a School Girl, made Anna want to dive for cover. She had no compunctions about opening the books, however, and it was from them that she'd learned about sex.

She'd figured out how to pleasure herself by the time she was fourteen, and the books were far more titillating than explicit, though, so she hadn't learned much. She could imagine the princess rewarding her knight for his valor with far more vividness, though she had a hard time picturing the male anatomy—and wasn't sure she wanted to. She could imagine her lovers in several more positions than any respectable woman would learn in her entire life, and knew that there were some things she didn't ever want to do. That was the extent of her education, and it worked, until now.

Those books certainly didn't teach her about kissing her own sister. Any kissing that was done was between man and woman. One or two touched on the idea of incest, but it was something Anna never paid attention to, being for all intents an only child. The references were vague insinuations at best anyway and she had no interest in trying to link them to the situation at hand.

"How would two women even go about it?" Two women together is just…. Anna's mind suddenly supplied an image that made her face heat up; it heated up more when her conscience kicked in and told her whom she was imagining. The picture was gone in a flash, but the heat remained. "Dear Freya … what … just … that was bizarre," she gasped in disbelief, "Like Elsa would ever do…." I wonder if her breasts really do look that nice underneath all the—"Gaaaah!"

She shook her head to clear her mind. "Just because I accidentally kissed her doesn't mean I want something like … wow, that was … wow." She started wandering again, trying to understand why she'd imagine something she should be doing with Kristoff—if they were married and adventurous—with her sister instead. "I know I've been comparing them a lot, and Elsa has been winning, but that was…. No-no-no! That's ridiculous; I'm just confused about kissing him, that's all. It has nothing to do with Elsa. It's just because I kissed her by accident."

There was a sharp twinge between her legs and she growled. Of all the times for that to start up. Her libido had a habit of showing itself at the strangest times, but this was stranger than most. Like Elsa would turn me on—even doing…. She coughed and turned her thoughts somewhere less dangerous. Thinking about the forbidden books could be the cause, though she found it unlikely. Reading them made her heart pound and that was it.

Anna had a hard time getting aroused intentionally, so she was half-convinced there was something wrong with her, especially given the random nature of the moments when she did feel her body heating up. She wasn't sure what set her off; it sometimes happened when she was being introduced to people—she'd meet a man she thought was good-looking but not the sort she'd be interested in only to have other parts of her body suggest otherwise. He was rarely as attractive as the woman next in the line, much less a heart-throb. Still, she'd end up shifting uncomfortably for several minutes until she could escape and sit down.

It would happen when she was wandering through town. She'd be talking to a shopkeeper, pause for him to help another woman, and go back to her conversation only to have the familiar pulsing start in the pit of her stomach. She hoped she wasn't attracted to the fishmonger and the bowyer; they were both a lot older and not particularly appealing. Even simply passing a couple on the street sometimes raised the ache. It was frustrating and annoying, but she couldn't change it.

Occasionally, she wondered if this was normal for women. Her mother insisted that women weren't supposed to be aroused unless they were being touched by their husbands, but she'd always been suspicious of the truth in that.

Her mother was a strange one when it came to sex. Clearly affectionate with Anna's father, she would turn on her heel and chastise Anna severely for having a romantic novel from the library, even though they were much more innocent than the ones she stole. 'Young girls shouldn't think of such things.' 'A princess need only concern herself with the man she will marry.' Even telling her that touching herself was taking away the right of her spouse to claim her chastity.

That last was clear malarkey as far as Anna was concerned. Even so, she didn't find it very satisfying, so she acceded at least the possibility that her mother wasn't totally wrong. Thus, it was always a bit confusing when she started feeling desire prickle through her body for no apparent reason. It certainly isn't because of Elsa! Ignoring the slight pulsing of her center, she tried to focus once again on her confusion about what happened in the parlor.

Why such a simple thing caused such a huge reaction in both of them was beyond her. She knew women didn't kiss each other like that. She knew sisters didn't. But she also knew that Elsa's lips were meltingly soft against her own, softer than she'd ever felt when those lips touched her cheek. The jolt it sent through her body was … "It was probably because the temperature dropped so fast. I was definitely shivering." She wandered over and collapsed across the bed, staring at the canopy. "How can she not get cold when it's ten below zero?"

The question was a diversion for only a few seconds, and then her thoughts turned back to possibly the dumbest thing she'd ever done.

The bath water was hot, and Elsa sank to her shoulders with a sigh. Normally, she avoided too much heat; she didn't tolerate it well, unlike her immunity to the cold. There were times, however, when a hot bath felt like paradise. This was one of those times, and she was glad to be able to take it without Bridgette fussing over her.

Despite several more truffles than her stomach cared for, she was no closer to understanding what happened, much less knowing what to do about it. Her brain didn't want to move past replaying the event over and over as if it didn't want her to find a reason. Every breath, every movement, everything was graven into her memory. The small sound Anna made before she jumped away, the tiny noise that might have been a moan, still sounded in Elsa's ears.

She knew she had to focus and address the situation rationally, but just remembering the faint taste of lemon on Anna's lips made her tremble, and she found it hard to think of anything else. If her sister kissed her on the cheek, it would have been difficult enough, but the sensation of those soft, pink lips against her own was impossible to forget. Her own mouth still tingled from the contact, and the memory was driving her crazy.

What possible reason could she have for kissing me that way? Elsa remembered that Anna turned her head slightly as she leaned forward, but it was clear she didn't realize it herself. So whatever the reason, it was subconscious. Does she know how I feel … and trying to get me to admit it?

Not Anna; Anna would never do something so cruel, even subconsciously. Her intentions were innocent, whatever they might be. Elsa wished it were because her sister returned her feelings, but even in her dreams, she recognized that to be impossible. Her body pulsed lightly as memories of those dreams rose in her.

"No!" Gritting her teeth, Elsa pushed back at the hint of a physical response she didn't want. She drew her knees up and rested her forehead on them. "No," she said more softly. "I won't—not about that."

As much as she wanted to feel her sister's touch, she knew it was impossible. She didn't know if she could go through with her desires even if it were. There was a line between fantasy and reality and she was well aware of it. The things that she did with Anna in her imagination—she knew it wasn't real, and that let the guilt fade enough to keep doing them. It was a fantasy, an impossible dream, and the Anna in it wasn't real and never would be.

The very real Anna kissing her was a totally different matter. Elsa leaned back and closed her eyes. She kissed me. Freya, it was wonderful. For two seconds Elsa floated on air. For two seconds she did with her sister what she'd dreamed of for weeks. For two seconds—

"It can't happen." Elsa hit the water with her palms angrily. "No matter how much I want it, it can't happen. Anna didn't mean it that way." Had her sister held the kiss a second longer, though, Elsa would have responded, her intentions far from innocent. What would Anna have done then?

Elsa was immune to cold, but that didn't mean she couldn't tell that the water temperature was getting close to freezing. Growling, she stood up and grabbed her towel, stepping out of the tub just as the liquid within it froze. Muttering a curse Bridgette would do more than raise an eyebrow at hearing, Elsa defrosted the miniature skating rink and reached in to pull the plug.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she went back into the bedroom and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Why did she have to kiss me? Elsa spent hours each week practicing self-control—control of her powers, and control of her desires. One simple act threatened to destroy all of that, one simple, innocent act. Elsa knew she could regain the control over her powers far more easily than of her desires.

"I can't let this get to me." She clenched her fists into the sheets. "We've just made peace; I can't pull away again."

Anna was certainly thinking about what she'd done, too, but Elsa doubted it was more than worry she'd made her sister angry again. For Anna, it was a baffling mistake, nothing more. She couldn't know that with a soft touch of her lips she'd drawn Elsa a step over the line. Elsa would make sure she never found out, too. Unfortunately, Elsa couldn't remove her own memories. It was only a step, but crossing the line made her desire for her sister real; very real. She fell back across the mattress and groaned, but not in pleasure.

Incest. Elsa clenched her thighs together and trying to stop the throbbing of her center. I knew that's what it was all along, but … it's not just a word anymore. "No! I can't see her like that! She didn't mean it. Get it together, Elsa." She was desperate to stop the fire building inside, more desperate than she'd ever been before.

It didn't matter that her pain expressed itself around her; snow and cold were far preferable to violating her little sister, even in her mind. She could never touch the real Anna. She would never imagine her, either. It was something that hovered at the edge of her conscience from the beginning, though until now it had been easy to ignore. To do the things she dreamed about to the woman she just left would be taking advantage of Anna's openness and innocent love in a horrible way.

She doubted Anna would say no, but it would be out of desperation to keep her from pulling away again, not because she wanted to. But what if she was so upset about kissing me because she feels the same way I do and doesn't want me to know? Elsa scowled. She was just making excuses to justify what her body was increasingly demanding.

"I'm her big sister, and she adores me for it—nothing else. She doesn't imagine us making love; she imagines us having tea together. Get it through your head, Elsa. Touching her is the same as—" Elsa swallowed hard, the heat in her chest subsiding some. She knew the laws. She knew them well; she'd read them enough times in the last two months. In the eyes of the law, seducing Anna was the same as forcing herself on a stranger—worse, since they were both women. In the eyes of society, it would make her the monster she so feared she'd become.

With another groan, Elsa rolled over fully onto the bed and curled up. The hunger was returning, despite everything—despite even the fear of the word she so hated. Her mind knew the difference between wrong and right but her body didn't, and it demanded satisfaction more strongly the longer she fought it.

Please, Freya, help me stop this. They were words she's spoken many times and thought many more. The goddess hadn't responded yet, but Elsa prayed that this time, she would. It was her last defense, and if it failed, she feared she'd give in. It would be violating Anna's innocence, but she'd do it anyway. Please, Freya…. Elsa curled up more tightly and continued the battle. Please….



"They're two different kinds of kisses entirely," Anna muttered. She'd been struggling for some time to find a reason that her mouth strayed from its original target in the parlor. Though she tried not to think about it, she didn't feel the guilt she should knowing the taboo she'd broken—that she'd kissed her sister the way she kissed Kristoff. Not quite the same, but close enough. And, she'd done it without Elsa's permission. She should feel guilty. She should be appalled at her action.

She didn't—she wasn't. There wasn't a speck of anything besides worry that she'd upset Elsa. If her sister tried to prolong it, she wouldn't have resisted, either. That raised warning bells and she quickly pushed it away. It would only happen because she was lost in the softness of Elsa's lips, not because she wanted more from her sister. It was also something Elsa would never do.

Yet Anna forced a kiss on her. What if that was her first one? Her eyes widened. As kisses go, it barely qualified, but it did qualify—and Elsa was about as likely to have already kissed someone as Anna was to accept another proposal from that bastard Hans. I did it without her permission on top of everything. "I'm surprised she didn't freeze me solid then and there."

She thanked the Gods Elsa hadn't frozen her. She thanked the Gods Elsa wasn't furious with her. The look on her sister's face when she jumped back was confusing, though. Elsa looked as if Anna had just stabbed her, even grabbing at her chest. The temperature reached well below freezing almost as fast as it had that night at the coronation. Thinking back, she looked a lot like she had in the moments after revealing her powers that night.

"Why would she be terrified of me kissing her? Shocked, I could see, even angry. But why afraid?"

Why was I so afraid? It wasn't fear that Elsa would react with magic, or that she would explode in fury, though both were possible; Anna's fear was something else entirely. She just couldn't figure out what. I wonder if I looked like that after Kristoff kissed me? Was he afraid, too?

"Why would he be afraid, other than of getting slapped, maybe—though I told him he could do it. Elsa wasn't expecting it at all. I wonder if she just turned her head at the wrong time?" It was possible, but that wouldn't explain to Anna why she didn't just break contact and laugh it off. "I made it a real kiss instead. Why?"

She wanted to kiss her sister good night to show she really was forgiven. That was it. Wasn't it? "I must've had Kristoff on my mind and not realized it." Anna rolled onto her side and hugged a pillow. "I have been thinking about what to do about him. I've been comparing them a lot, too. Still … I kissed her. Ok, so it felt good … I didn't know it would when I did it. It was a lot nicer than kissing him, but she's my sister. Ugh. Elsa has to be thinking I've lost my mind."

Anna changed position again, still aware of the heat in her core and the wetness at the join of her thighs. She stared at the canopy once more. "Why did this start now? It can't be Elsa, but … I don't want to do that with Kristoff either, so why…. One kiss sure has caused a lot of trouble. Well, two kisses, I guess."

She suddenly sat upright. Was it possible she'd kissed Elsa in some subconscious attempt to erase Kristoff's from her mouth? She wondered if still feeling slightly disgusted by him caused her to make a stupid mistake without thinking. Tea calmed her fears that Elsa hated her, and Anna wanted to show that her own feelings were unchanged. At the same time, she'd been comparing her sister with Kristoff all afternoon, so it wasn't impossible she changed her aim simply to rid herself of the memory of his kiss.

It had certainly faded in importance; she had trouble now remembering exactly how his lips felt, while the softness of Elsa's was very present. Even if it was meant in different ways, and a stupid mistake, Anna managed to confirm that she found the prospect of another kiss from Kristoff unpleasant.

Unfortunately, she'd replaced that uncertainty with worry that Elsa now had a good reason to keep her distance. True, she'd eventually acted as if it didn't bother her, but it did and Anna knew it. That shocked stare, her white face, and the snow that instantly swirled around them all told the truth more clearly than her sister's words. Kissing Elsa had upset her as deeply as Anna's demanding questions the night of the coronation, maybe more.

Anna crossed her arms and sighed heavily. The pulsing need in her body continued, despite her emotional turmoil. Great, I'm panicking about Elsa and my libido still expects me to pay attention to it. A bath sounded good after all. The warm water usually calmed her hunger, and there was always the remote chance she'd have some insight while she soaked. Getting up, she padded toward the bathroom with a silent prayer that someone would help her understand the mess she'd gotten herself into.

Half an hour later, Anna crawled in bed feeling even more frustrated than she had to start with. She'd finally given in and tried to satisfy her libido in the tub, without success. It didn't surprise her, especially with the way the image of Elsa she'd pushed away earlier showed up each time she grew close to orgasm. That would bring panic and still her fingers, then she'd growl at herself and force her thoughts back to her favorite fantasy, only to have it happen again. It ruined what might otherwise have actually been, for once, an enjoyable experience.

The one positive was that she knew now that Kristoff, at least physically, didn't raise the kinds of feelings in her that he should. She also wondered if her lingering uncertainty was due to anything more than not wanting to hurt his feelings. There was still much to decide about how to move forward with their relationship—and what sort of relationship she wanted to have, but she couldn't do it tonight. Other concerns still crowded her mind.

She'd kissed Elsa and there was no way to take it back. She'd enjoyed it but it meant nothing beyond needing to erase Kristoff's taste from her mouth and curiosity about how different Elsa's lips would be.

They were wonderful. Goddess, she felt good. For a second, she thought that perhaps kissing Kristoff wouldn't have been so bad if he had her sister's lips, but the reasons they had no future went far beyond the sensation of their mouths pressed together.

His may have been Anna's first kiss, but her second made for a much better memory, despite the panic and confusion. She would rather kiss Elsa a thousand times than kiss Kristoff again. That thought confused her, even though she knew it was true. It was Elsa's lips she'd fall asleep thinking about, and somehow that made her ready for her dreams.

The snow in Elsa's room was getting heavier, and the temperature dropped steadily. Elsa was oblivious to the cold. She was hot. Her body was hot, throbbing, needy. She fought for control, but there was nothing left after the force of will it took to keep her hands by her sides. On other nights, her resistance to her desires was half-hearted at best, but tonight she needed to win. She couldn't cross the line any further, and if she surrendered, she would.

She couldn't touch herself so intimately while hungering for the woman … her sister! … just down the hall, and she didn't trust herself not to remember the kiss in the heat of passion. I can't do it … even if Anna never finds out…. It seemed as though she'd been fighting for hours, but barely five minutes had passed since the battle began.

If only she wasn't so curious. If she had closed the book after the first page, none of this would be happening. She knew before she found it that she was in love with Anna. It was a sweet, innocent love—not that thoughts of kissing never crossed her mind, she'd just never considered anything beyond that. The Anna in her dreams then wasn't so different from the Anna she took nightly tea with. It was frustrating, though, and when she found the thin tome now stashed behind her bedside table she discovered why.

Where such an explicit novel came from, she didn't know, but when she found it—shoved behind a law book in her office—Elsa's life changed. She'd never considered that other women might feel like she did, might be taken with their own gender instead of men. To read of two women … kissing … on the very first page.… Just those words sent shivers through her body. When that kissing started moving downward on the second, she slammed the book shut and almost hurled it across the room.

An interruption forced her to calm herself, and when she came back to the book, she couldn't help reading more—and more. Thoughts of getting rid of it vanished, replaced with thoughts of doing those things with Anna … things far beyond the gentle kisses she'd imagined until now. She vowed again to get rid of it, but somehow ended up in bed that night devouring the words, breaking the lock on Pandora's box. She would never look at Anna the same way again.

During those dark hours, Elsa learned what a true orgasm was, and how much she wanted to bring Anna to the same heights. She'd done more than ice over the bedposts, too. All of that combined to make it impossible to look Anna in the eyes come breakfast. From that moment until the present, Elsa did everything she could to avoid her sister. She was terrified of the desires that rose in her when she caught glimpse of Anna, terrified of what happened to her body when they were forced to eat together. She was terrified of what might happen if her sister discovered the reason for her sudden distance.

Why did she kiss me? The Anna from her dreams and the Anna from the parlor were the same person but had become so infinitely different as the days passed. If she'd imagined what happened, she'd have surrendered long ago. She didn't, though, and thinking about her sister—her beautiful, living, breathing sister—doing the things the imaginary Anna did every night, was wrong on too many levels to count. It was wrong, but it sent shocks of hunger through her.

Elsa felt her control slipping; her desires were stronger than her ability to fight them. Unbidden, the image she'd been dreading rose behind her eyelids—Anna, kissing her but not pulling back, instead pressing forward, pushing Elsa into the wood of the door frame. Anna, kissing her neck, unbuttoning her dress and pulling it off her shoulders—

"Damn it!" Elsa shook her head trying to dispel the image, but it was too late; she'd lost, and the floodgates were opened. Remembering Anna's lips, tasting lightly of chocolate and lemon, touching hers raised overwhelming desire. Coupled with the knowledge of what could follow if they allowed it, that desire crested and crashed through her as burning, hungry, need. Can I look her in the face if I do this?

A faint point of reason tried to take root, but it was washed away by primal desire. She undid her towel; fighting longer would only make things worse. Her nipples, already erect, hardened further when the air hit them, her aureolae puckering almost painfully.

Anna was grinning as she unbuttoned her waistcoat and blouse, shrugging them off. After making sure Elsa could see everything, she undid her skirt and let it fall to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Anna," Elsa whispered in a broken voice as she slid a hand up her stomach and found one of the sharp peaks on her chest. A rush of fire and wetness filled her center as she trailed across it, and she moaned. Another moan followed, louder, when she closed her fingers around the nipple and began to roll.

Anna's lips traced a delicate line along the outside of Elsa's ear. "I love you, Elsa." Her sister's voice was husky with desire. "Let me make love to you."

Elsa's back arched and she let out a cry. The line between the Anna of reality and the Anna of fantasy was blurring, but Elsa couldn't stop it—and she was quickly coming not to care. She brought up her other hand and closed her fingers on both nipples, rolling and pinching while she imagined they were her sister's fingers instead.

Now, Anna kissed a hungry line down Elsa's chest, across the curve of one breast, and down her stomach. She slowly kissed back up until, with a painfully delicate touch, her tongue found Elsa's nipple.

"Anna … Ann-a … A-nnnaaa…." Each time she groaned the name, the heat between her thighs intensified, and the pulsing ball filling the pit of her stomach grew hungrier. Forgive me Anna … I'm so sorry.… The desperate need of her body finally overwhelmed her conscience, and she accepted that it was the Anna she'd said good night to after tea now biting her nipple and stroking her thighs with motions moving ever closer to the place she was most alight. The line was broken, no longer important. Elsa pulled the damp towel from underneath her back, leaving her fully naked on the bed.

"Do you want this?" Anna's fingers stroked Elsa's inner thigh just below the wetness coating it. "Tell me, Elsa."

Drawing in ragged breaths, Elsa surrendered. "Touch me … please, make love to me, Anna."

Elsa slid a hand down her stomach to the thatch of hair between her thighs. "I love you, Anna," she gasped, and then jerked and cried out at the first touch of her fingers against the wetness. After a few teasing strokes, Elsa spread her legs to allow easier access to the folds hidden beneath the curls. Slipping a finger between the lips of her center, she slowly slid up and pressed against the hardened nub at their end.

Elsa clawed at the sheets, lifted her hips against her sister's hand and begged her not to stop. Anna finally kissed her again, deeply, hungrily, while her fingers danced between Elsa's legs.

Groaning, Elsa continued her fantasy while her hands moved, touching, teasing. Her fingers rubbed against her clitoris with enough force to make her lift her hips, then softened to keep back the climax she wanted so much yet feared to release. Her mind filled with images and fantasies that would surely make her sister despise her but she couldn't stop; the memory of Anna's lips on hers overrode any moral guilt she may have left. Her fingers continued to move, stroking, pinching, teasing.

"I'm … so … Goddess, Anna I want to come."

Biting gently at Elsa's earlobe, Anna whispered, "Then come."

Shooting bolts of desire raced through Elsa's body and coalesced under her fingers in a hungry, heated ball that pulsed almost painfully for just a moment before exploding in an orgasm stronger than she had ever experienced.

"ANNA!" she cried out, unable to keep back the word as waves of pleasure lifted her back into a hard arch—"A-NN-A!"—curled her fingers and toes into the sheets—"ANN-AAAA!"—and finally subsided into small spasms that continued the pleasure with slight jolts for several seconds longer.

"Anna," she whispered, fighting the tears that always came when the hunger faded. "Dear, sweet Anna. Please forgive me."

Several minutes later, Elsa sat up, wiped the last of her tears away, and surveyed her room. Flakes of snow still drifted down, but the temperature had returned to nearly normal. As she feared, ice coated the posts of her bed and part of the surrounding mattress. She could dissolve the ice; unfortunately, the scratches it left behind couldn't be fixed.

There were already dozens of lines and gouges, but Bridgette would see the new ones come morning. Even though she'd never admitted that she touched herself, she was fairly certain the older woman knew anyway. With a sigh, Elsa swung her legs over the side of the bed. The ice extended across the floor and she dismissed it with an angry wave. Only after all the evidence of her earlier activities was gone did she stand. She needed to clean up and find her nightgown. Anna must never know. No matter what, she must never know.

Anna rolled over, coming into semi-wakefulness when she thought she heard Elsa calling her. Nothing followed, and she snuggled back into the blankets happily. Must've dreamed it … Nice dream. Elsa … more kisses. "Mmn … lots more," she mumbled into her pillow before falling back into a deep, pleasant sleep.

After Notes: I got through surgery ok, but it will still be some weeks before I can really type again. I do have dictation software, but alas I have a Mac, and the available program doesn't work very well. I hope to be able to keep writing during the first few weeks of recovery, but I'm not making promises. If there's a gap, I haven't abandoned the story. After all, it's just getting good! The last scene ended up less M than I hoped, but coming chapters should make up for it.