So so sorry to keep you all waiting on this. It started small and got out of hand >.> My entire inspiration for this piece was 1) anger at the jackass who texted this 2) my own soft heart for a secondary prompt I fused in here and 3) this comic by makurakun. Ngl I spent about 10 minutes crying about it and soaking up feels for writing purposes

Bonus for readers: This one’s extra long. I hope you enjoy because I had a fantastic time writing this.

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Rating: T– Language, Blood, Suggestive Themes

Characters: Elsa, Anna, OC (unnamed male)

Modern AU

Based on TFLN (203): “I asked a girl to buy her a drink, she said I have a boyfriend, so I said, well I have a goldfish, she said what? I replied, oh I’m sorry I thought we were talking about shit that doesn’t matter.”

“I said, leave me alone.”



“Aw c’mon baby, don’t be like that.” The man who’d refused to introduce himself put a hand dangerously close to her thigh. Elsa didn’t know what scared her more, the fact that he’d invaded her personal space within a minute of sitting down or that his breath didn’t smell of alcohol. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Elsa eased her leg as far away as she could without being obvious. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Well I have a goldfish.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Oh I’m sorry,” he leered, “I thought we were talking about shit that doesn’t matter.”

Elsa’s stomach dropped out, waves of sheer revulsion shooting down her spine. He leaned forward. “You know we’d be good together. And that pretty voice of yours will sound amazing screaming my–”

“Is this… gentleman, bothering you ma'am?”

Elsa twitched under the sudden hand on her shoulder. A young redhead had approached them from out of nowhere, her bright turquoise eyes an island of comfort in a chaotic sea.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man snarled, shielding Elsa with his body. The hand on her shoulder tightened.

“No one, just a friend.”

“Ohhhh. Hey blondie, you cheapin’ out on me? You didn’t tell me you had friends.” He reclined, crossing an ankle on top of his knee. “What’s your name sweetheart? Wanna come home with me tonight too? Or better yet, you two ladies take me home instead.”

The woman gave him such a scathing glare Elsa half expected her aggressor to spontaneously combust. A pity he did not. “No thanks. I don’t adopt pets that aren’t trained.”

The man rocketed out of his seat. “You got a problem bitch?” Elsa gulped in fear. He towered over her rescuer, who wasn’t that tall to begin with, a pillar of rage and spleen. The redhead didn’t back down.

“First you want to fuck me then you call me a bitch? You’re a regular Casanova you know that?” The man’s lip curled, fingers twitching. “Besides,” the woman continued, a sly smile on her lips, “I only give my name to friends or people I’m going to have sex with. And by the look of things,” she eyed him up and down, fixing the nauseating bulge in his jeans with an unimpressed look before skipping back to his face, “you haven’t the parts or personality for either position.”

Elsa’s jaw dropped. The woman turned back to her, shooting Elsa’s degree of awe through the roof because as soon as she made eye contact the redhead beamed like a kid in a candy store.

“Whaddya say we get out of here, leave this loser to his drink and lonely bed.”

“Listen here you ignorant slut!” The man roared. “You don’t talk to me that way, no one talks to me that way. Least of all some short stack lesbian nobody who thinks she’s playing hero.” He brought each insult home with a vicious jab to the redhead’s chest. “Everything was fine until you got here. Me and her were just having a polite conversation.” All the blood drained from Elsa’s face as he looked at her. “Isn’t that right sweetie?”

He took her silence as an answer.

“So why don’t you just get the fuck out of here? Walk away and forget any of this ever happened. Once I’m done with your ‘friend’, I’ll come back for you. And who knows,” his gaze dipped to the woman’s chest. “You might find I’m more than well equipped to handle even someone of your… particular tastes.”

Elsa saw red. Then she realized she really was seeing red. Blood fountained from the man’s broken nose as he fell to the ground. The woman absently inspected her knuckles, wiping off flecks of red. Elsa hadn’t even seen her throw a punch.

“You– You son a bitch!”

The man lunged, aiming a swipe at the woman’s head. She dodged neatly, turning his momentum in her favor. A swift kick to the back of his legs sent him to his knees and a moment later she had a thumb digging into the top of his shoulder and a hand around his throat. His cry of agony ended sharply as she pressed her fingers into his neck.

By now the entire bar had gone silent and was watching with morbid fascination. Elsa had her knees up to her chest, hands over her mouth, speechless for the second time since this had all started. She checked the clock on the wall.

Six minutes.

“Feel that?” Elsa switched her attention back to the two on the floor, her elevated position giving her a front row seat and excellent view. Her rescuer –as inappropriate as that term seemed to be now– spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “That’s what we smart people call a suprascapular nerve. Hurts doesn’t it? Don’t nod, that’ll make it worse. I love this nerve and I’ll tell you why: it causes some of the most intense pain known to man, and, if kept under constant pressure, can knock a victim out in less than six seconds.” The man visibly swallowed. “Glad you brought that up! I like this one even better.” The redhead rhythmically tapped her fingers along the side of his throat. “This right here is the carotid artery. As you can see it’s very sensitive. From this position not only is your windpipe vulnerable, but your brain too. If I apply even the smallest amount of pressure, like so,” she pressed down with her fingers, drawing a strangled gasp, “your heart rate increases because your brain is losing oxygen. Do this with enough force and boom! Unconsciousness achieved in five seconds or less.” The woman leaned over her captive’s bloodied face, expression cold as stone. “So you can imagine what it might feel like if both were to happen at once.”

The redhead shoved him away, rising to her feet much more gracefully than his shamble. His left arm was limp at his side, the other quick to massage his neck. Elsa’s eyes darted between the two, the first calm and collected but fierce, the other shaking like a cornered animal.

“I’ll make it real simple for you, okay pal? You’ve got two options here. You can leave here peacefully, not much worse for wear and, hey, a life lesson thrown in for free! Or,” her voice hardened, eyes sharp as steel. “Or you can wake up tomorrow hogtied in a dumpster half way across the city. I’ll even throw in a headache and sore crotch, free of charge. And not the good kind of ache, I’m talking my boot in your balls. I have enough know-how to make you fucking disappear.” She shook her head. “But see, I don’t want to do that. I actually like this bar, Kristoff keeps a good place and it would be doing him a disservice to beat your sleazy ass inside his wonderful establishment. But if I do, don’t think for a second that you aren’t going to take the blame. You have no allies here, get that shithead? Now, make your choice. I’m done talking.”

Elsa had never seen a grown man look so close to vomiting except the carnival or viewing a slasher film. This man was terrified. Elsa didn’t have one lick of sympathy.

A resounding cheer broke out as he sprinted for the exit. Suddenly they were surrounded by people, clapping the woman on the shoulder, congratulating her, while others crowded Elsa herself, checking to see if she was okay. Elsa nodded mutely to it all, overwhelmed. The redhead looked at her, a satisfied smile on her lips.

But something seemed, wrong. Her victory rang hollow, expression dim as though a hood had been cast over her eyes. She backed away from the celebrators, thanking them profusely and urging them back to their seats before stepping up to the counter. Despite the short distance Elsa could not make out what was said to the bartender over the jubilant hubub behind. Their conversation ended in a nod and handover of a wet rag. As the woman bent down to clean up the blood, Elsa observed. She scrubbed with a vigor unnecessary, as though the blood were three weeks old and she the murderer hiding evidence of her cruelty.

“Um, excuse me?” Elsa cleared her throat, voice hoarse from everything that had happened despite not saying a word. The redhead glanced up, eyes widening when she realized who’d beckoned her.

“Hey I’m, I’m really sorry about how that turned out. I promise that in my head everything went a lot smoother. I mean, not that I was thinking, Jesus I was so angry, what a piece a trash that guy. But–,” a look of terror crossed her face. “Oh God, I scared you didn’t I?”

“Uh…”

“I knew it. Arrrrgh, I’m such an idiot! I punched him right in front of you of course I scared you.”

“No! No no it’s not that!” Elsa hastily corrected. This miracle of a woman was beating herself up for helping? Unacceptable. “I just wanted to say thank you. You… I mean you saved me.”

“…Oh,” the redhead replied, embarrassment bringing color a little farther south.

“Will you sit with me?” Elsa offered. After all she’d done, the least Elsa could do was buy her a drink. That’s what people did in these situations right?

Her hero beamed. “I would love to.”

“Then I’ll take that.” A large hand plucked the dirty towel from the redhead’s hand. “And while I’m at it, tell me what you ladies would like to drink. Anything you want, on the house.”

“Kristoff!” The woman gasped. “That’s too generous of you, I couldn’t possibly–”

“I’ll pay for them,” Elsa interjected. “I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I just did what anyone would.”

“What? No, please, I want to.”

“Oh for the love of–,” the burly blonde grumbled over them. “This is my bar, my rules. I’m going to whip up some of my specials and neither of you are going to say a word or leave a dollar, alright?” The women shared a look before nodding meekly. “Excellent. And for God’s sake girl, introduce yourself to the person you punched a grown man to the ground over!”

“O-Oh. Yeah right I should… I should probably do that. Heh.” The woman’s face flushed as red as her hair while Kristoff rolled his eyes and lumbered off.

Elsa stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Elsa.”

She swore the redhead smiled all the way to her toes. “First Lieutenant Summers, at your service.”

A servicewoman? Well, that explained a lot.

“So where’s this boyfriend of yours?” Summers asked, hopping into a chair. “No offense, but he should have been here. It’s not like he could have missed all that,” she made sweeping gestures to their surroundings.

“Oh, well, I don’t actually have a boyfriend,” Elsa answered, crossing her legs. “It was the first thing I thought of to get that creep away from me.” She dropped her gaze. “Not that it got me anywhere.”

“Smart nonetheless,” Summer’s nodded, impressed. A muscle below her eye twitched and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Dumb question, but do you mind if I let my hair down? Damn bun is way too tight.”

“Of course!” Elsa twiddled her braid between two fingers. “I know the feeling.”

Summers expertly undid her bun, reining in the locks with two pleated braids on either side of her head. Elsa couldn’t help but feel she’d been copied, not that she was complaining because the result was heartwarmingly adorable.

Summers rolled her head in a circle. “Ahhh, much better.” Then her brow creased. “I didn’t ask before, but how are you feeling? Is there anyone I can call to take you home?”

“A little jittery, but I’ll be okay. And no,” Elsa shook her head. “I’d rather stay here. But if you have to go–”

“Nah, I’ve got nowhere to be. Just came to have a good time on my night off.” She saw Elsa’s expression sour. “Don’t worry,” Summers grinned. “Calling assholes out on their shit counts as a good time.”

Kristoff came with their drinks, giving them each a healthy but not unkind stare-down to make sure they didn’t pay. Elsa took a sip and found hers to be fruity and delicious.

“You said this was your night off?” She ventured.

“Yeah. I just finished my ROTC training and came home. Some of the cadets in the area wanted to go out and celebrate, but I wanted someplace more familiar. So I came here.” Summers swirled her drink, tipping the glass towards the counter. “I’ve known Kristoff since high school. We dated for a while but it didn’t last. Stayed friends though, and after graduation I went off to college and he started work here under his grandfather who has since passed. Kristoff inherited the place and now it’s where I come back to relax and catch up.” She laughed. “Or to sob over the break up of the latest boy or girlfriend.”

“Oh!” Elsa exclaimed, surprised by Summers forthrightness. You’re…”

“Bi? Yeah, so that guy was half right. Guess I lied when I said he didn’t have the parts. I just didn’t want his, yuck.” Summers paused. “That’s… okay right? Hate to ask, but some people get weird when I say that.”

“Oh gosh of course it is! I mean I’m–” I’m a huge freakin’ lesbian. Summers tilted her head, confused. “I-I’m…” Elsa dragged a hand down her face. “Sorry, I’m still not used to saying it.”

Summers’ frown pops into a silent ‘Ohhhhhh’. “So what you’re saying, or not saying, is that you’re really fucking gay.”

“U-Um… yeah.” Elsa’s shoulders attempted connection to her ears. Did Kristoff turn up the heat or was the room always this hot?

“All right! High-five!” Elsa slapped the soldier’s hand, charmed. Summers’ goofiness was contagious and endearing. “So what about you? What brought you here tonight?”

Elsa shrugged. “Friday night happy hour?”

“I hear that,” Summers grinned, taking a sip of her drink.

“But, I suppose I did have a reason,” Elsa admit, lacing her fingers together. “I came looking for something new. I couldn’t even tell you what, and if I’d known how this would turned out I never would have picked this random bar in the first place.” Then she smiled, remembering. “Or, maybe I would have. I can’t explain it much better, I acted on a feeling. Have you ever felt like you needed to be somewhere and somehow getting there and arriving at the right time is so important that you drop everything for it?”

“Yes,” Summers’ said quietly. Quick, honest, connection. An intimate silence settled between them, a little piece of world to themselves.

The night progressed. Conversation flowed from pets to dreams, music to fears, anecdotes to puns. Summers talked about her training, rattling off a million and one ways to track this and take down that. She used her hands frequently, brushed hair behind her ear when nervous, and was an accomplished story-teller. Elsa listened more than anything, asking the odd question or answering in short but informative ways. Summers was gentle and polite, and before Elsa knew it she was entirely smitten.

But days are just hours and hours just minutes with those being precious and short. The arrival of a phone reminder splinters their universe.

“Oh shit, is it really that late already?” Elsa checked her phone as well, noticing the quiet around them. They were the only ones left in the bar. Summers groaned. “I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Elsa said. “Here, let me get your number so we can meet up again.”

“Oh… um,” Summers tapped the edge of her phone, evasive. “I-I can’t.”

“What? Why?” She didn’t mean to, but the hurt carried in Elsa’s voice. Summers hung her head.

“I’m… actually leaving tomorrow for my first tour.” Elsa’s heart plummeted. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“No I…,” Elsa faltered. Fate had a warped sense of humor bringing them together only to tear them apart.

Summers put on a smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. It should be fun right?”

Elsa said nothing. Summers dropped her eyes, reaching for her glass one last time. Elsa caught the tremble of her hand, one that formed a fist a hairsbreadth from its destination. An uncomfortable silence brewed, Summers hovering over her cup without drinking while Elsa struggled to find the appropriate words.

In the end she did not find them, closing the gap with gentle fingers over white knuckles, tension melting enough to ease the soldier’s hand flat. Summers turned away, face tucked into the crook of her elbow. Her shoulders trembled, and Elsa freely accepted the burden as Summers locked their hands together with a grip like iron.

“I hear so many stories,” Summers said at last. “People come back… changed. Or they don’t come back at all. What if… What if–”

“Stop.” Elsa bit back the sting of tears. Summers was not so lucky. Hers fell like rain. “Summers, you’re a good person. Humble. Brave. I won’t say nothing will happen because I can’t see the future. But I can say this.” Elsa wrapped her arm around the soldier and hugged her tight. “I am infinitely better for having known you, no matter how short a time.”

Summers squeezed their hands, a sob escaping. “I want to see you again.”

“Summers I–”

“It’s Anna. A-n-n-a. Anna Summers.” Her smile was bright through her tears.

“Anna…” A perfect name.

They sat with their knees touching, trying to find a way to say goodbye. Then Elsa remembered.

“Now that I know your name,” she said, reaching for Anna’s hand. “Does that make us friends?”

Anna searched her face. “Maybe,” she whispered, bringing Elsa’s palm to her lips. “Or maybe we’re something more.”

