Smut warning ;)



She's in a classroom. She's not quite sure how she got here, but it doesn't look like any classroom she's ever been in before. Elsa looks around and tries to figure out where she is and why. The room is dimly lit, and the desks around her, including the one she's sitting in, are written on. From "deep" song lyrics to cries for help from the education system to profanity, Elsa can see that the surfaces were etched with keys or very stubborn, useless pens.

She gets the feeling she shouldn't be in here, yet she's supposed to be there too. She's also in a rather skimpy school uniform. . . A white collared shirt that shows off her cleavage and her plaid skirt is far too short to be acceptable dress code. Her eyes fall on the chalkboard, old and dusty and in need of a good clean. But the words written in white chalk couldn't be any clearer.

Detention.

So wherever Elsa is exactly, she's in detention for some unknown reason. She wonders who her proctor is, craning her neck to see if she can catch a glimpse of the person.

"Eyes front, Miss Fönn," says a stern, cold voice from the back.

Elsa follows the directions at once, snapping her head forward and sitting in her seat stalk-still, ears strained and heart hammering in her chest. The humiliation of being in detention bubbles in her stomach as she waits for punishment. The sound of high heels hitting linoleum floor fills the silence of the room, stepping in time with the clock ticking on the wall somewhere Elsa can't see. She can feel herself trembling in anticipation; and, for some reason, her nether regions are stirring at the sound of the heels growing nearer to her.

"You've been incredibly naughty, you know," the voice whispers, a gentle yet authoritative hand suddenly on Elsa's shoulder, but she doesn't dare sneak a peek at whom it belongs to. A finger plays with a loose hair dangling from the back of Elsa's head, and she swallows. "Do I make you nervous, Miss Fönn?" A soft chuckle. "Oh, you're so easy to frighten."

The proctor comes into view, making a swift move so hands are on either side of the desk, leaning forward, almost nose-to-nose with Elsa. The bespectacled, teal eyes of Anna bore into her, and Elsa finds herself both incredibly intimidated and turned on.

"Do you know why you're in here?" Anna asks, never letting their eye contact break.

"No," Elsa replies, her voice shaking.

"No? Are you sure?" Anna's right hand reaches up to caress Elsa's cheek; but, before it makes contact, she pauses. Elsa wants her to touch her, and Anna can see it in her face. She's silently begging for physical contact. "You're in here because you've been naughty, Miss Fönn. . ."

The way she says "naughty" makes Elsa whine, and a smirk curls on Anna's lips.

"Oh, you don't get anything from me after everything you've done," Anna hisses, drawing her hand away. "You have to do your lines first. And then we'll see if you're deserving of my sympathy."

"My—my lines?" Elsa stammers.

"Mhm."

Anna backs away from her, and Elsa takes a brief moment to see what she's wearing. For some reason, she's wearing those glasses that are perched on her nose just so, a white-collared shirt that is not only giving Elsa a glorious view of her cleavage but is also tied in a knot a few inches above her bellybutton, exposing her toned stomach. Her skirt is black and is way shorter than the skirt Elsa is wearing.

Fishnet stockings vanish up the skirt and her heels, also black, make her stand tall and strong before her captive audience. Her hair is up in a bun that is being held in place by an unsharpened pencil.

"You see, in detention, you have to serve punishment for your mistakes," Anna says. She notices that Elsa isn't really paying attention and lifts a copper brow. She clears her throat. "Excuse me, Miss Fönn, my eyes are up here."

Elsa immediately lifts her stare from the dip in Anna's shirt, flushing.

"Tut tut. Staring at my chest. . . It would seem you have much to be in trouble for. I was going to go easy on you, but since you insist on continuing with your bad behavior, I'll have to condition you to be a good girl. On your feet. Now."

Elsa scrambles out of her seat, watching as Anna sits on a stool that has suddenly materialized out of thin air behind her.

"Do your lines," Anna commands huskily.

Elsa understands what she means and blinks, furrowing her brows at Anna, as though asking permission to do so, and her eyes search for confirmation.

"It's okay to touch me. You, however, won't be getting anything in return unless I think you've earned it. If you do your work correctly, you might get a little prize."

The blonde steps forward until she reaches Anna. She tries to lean in for a kiss to get things started, but she's stopped by a ruler that has randomly appeared in Anna's possession.

"Ah-ah. No kissing. Just lines."

Fuck, Elsa thinks. This is torture.

She sinks to her knees and finds that Anna is without underwear. Her stomach lurches pleasantly, and she slowly pushes back the skirt, Anna spreading her legs automatically.

"Anna?" Elsa croaks, peering up to check if this is still okay.

This is met with a small smack on her head with the ruler, not enough to hurt but enough to slightly sting.

"That's Miss Eldr to you," Anna reminds her firmly.

"Yes, Miss Eldr," Elsa responds. "What are my lines?"

"I would like you to spell 'I am a naughty girl' until I tell you to stop."

Elsa nods and moves in, pressing her tongue against Anna's clit. She hears a stifled moan as she starts to spell out her given lines. If this is punishment, it's the best sort of punishment Elsa has ever received. Tasting Anna on her lips, ravishing her proctor, and grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to give her the best pleasure.

She can't recall how far she got into spelling her lines; but, after a good ten minutes, when Anna starts to roll her hips in time to Elsa's tongue, she's told to stop—but Anna did not come. Elsa's head is pushed back by Anna's authoritative hand, and she licks her lips, tasting Anna even more, craving to go back in and finish the job. Through her heavy breathing, the redhead smiles softly down at Elsa.

"Very good, Miss Fönn. I think you've done well enough to earn yourself a little reward in return. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Miss Eldr," she replies automatically, completely entrapped with the deep, sexual pleasure this whole scenario is giving her. She's attracted to Anna; she's so turned on she can feel it between her legs. Both women in the room know that she desperately wants to fuck Anna.

"Stand," Anna commands and Elsa does so, standing between Anna's legs. "Remember: no kissing. Just let me reward you."

Her freckled hand crawls up the blonde's skirt and pushes back her panties.

"Underpants to detention? That's a dress code violation," Anna scolds.

"I didn't know," Elsa breathes, feeling Anna's hand tease and linger near her slick opening. "I've never gotten detention before."

"I suppose that's reasonable. But the next time you do, I better not see any underpants, Miss Fönn. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

Elsa gasps as fingers slip inside her. She lurches forward, and Anna lets Elsa rest her forehead on her shoulder. Elsa grinds against Anna's hand, closing her eyes tightly and moaning rather loudly.

Fuck, is this real? Elsa hopes it is, her hands moving from gripping Anna's waist to grasping at the edges of the stool that Anna is sitting on. She can feel Anna's mouth start to kiss and suck on her pulse, bringing her close to a quick finish.

Elsa starts letting out whines, more and more, the faster Anna goes, sliding her fingers in and out. Elsa's walls start to collapse but as soon as she reaches the edge, Anna stops.

"What?" Elsa complains.

"Did you think I would let you come so quickly?" Anna laughs darkly. "Oh, no, no, no. First thing, I'm going to make you beg for me."

"I—"

"Do as I say, Miss Fönn. I'm your proctor." Her voice is crisp and cold and Elsa shivers from the sound of it. "Sit back down."

Elsa scurries back into her seat and squeezes her thighs together, trying to get some friction as Anna stands from the stool. She watches in silent awe as Anna removes the pencil from her bun and lets her long wavy hair cascade down like a tawny waterfall. The pencil falls to the floor with a wooden clatter.

Anna slowly—torturously—unbuttons the three buttons that are holding her shirt together, the top already full of her breasts, ready to spill out. Then she unties the knot above her bellybutton, and the shirt is now loose around her lithe frame. Elsa's eyes flutter as a shudder of pleasure runs down her spine.

Anna smoothly steps out of her heels and makes her way over to her captive audience, hips swaying deliciously with each step. She leans forward and finally meets Elsa's desire, pressing their lips together. Searing, burning hot fire erupts from their kiss and warms their skin significantly. Elsa's skin tingles with sensitivity, and she lets out a stifled moan.

"My desk, Miss Fönn," Anna growls in her ear.

Elsa doesn't need to be told twice. She slowly rises from her chair and cups the back of Anna's neck, bringing her in for another kiss, feeling her hair tickle her skin. Anna grabs Elsa's collar and yanks her over, backing up to a desk that has magically appeared in the room, just as every other item has in this apparition. Nothing is on the desk so Elsa is placed on the top of it with ease.

Anna is above her, a curtain of red hair framing the both of them. She kisses Elsa hard again, bruising her lips in the process. Elsa's hips jerk, and she whines into their kiss, wanting Anna. Needing Anna.

"Elsa," Anna whispers against her lips.

"Miss Eldr?" Elsa rasps as Anna pulls away.

"Call me Anna."

Fingers slip beneath Elsa's skirt and between her folds. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, Anna's mouth sucking hard on her pulse. She struggles to return the favor, and her hand hitches up Anna's skirt. Anna sighs on Elsa's skin as the blonde rubs her hand over Anna's clit and down to her opening. Elsa can feel Anna's breasts press up against her own, even though they're still clothed.

She's so close. She can feel the orgasm building up again and she grinds even harder against Anna's hand. Her head tilts back onto the desk, and Anna uses her other hand to unbutton Elsa's blouse to give some love to her breasts. One nipple is captured between succulent lips, and Elsa's back arches in response.

"Anna!" Elsa cries.

"You've been so naughty, Elsa," Anna says, releasing her nipple and kissing Elsa's lips again. "Fucking your teacher. I think you're due for another detention."

Elsa merely gasps and moans as Anna curls her fingers inside of her.

"Do you want detention again?"

Elsa nods automatically.

"Do you want punishment from me again?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want me to fuck you again?"

Another moan. "Yes!"

"Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me!"

Anna kisses her softly and curls her fingers again. "Good girl. . ."

Elsa's back arches once more, and she lets out a scream, the orgasm hitting so hard—

That she wakes up.

In a cold sweat, Elsa starts up from her bed, breathing hard, heart racing a mile a minute. The dream felt real, so fucking real. She brings a hand to her forehead and pushes back the hair that has fallen in her face. She takes a moment to come back to reality, closing her eyes and evening out her breathing.

When she collects herself, she dips her hand in her underwear to see just how real the dream got.

"Well shit," she groans, falling on her back to stare up at the dark ceiling.

No doubt about it, the dream was so vivid that it aroused her in real life. Her sheets are haphazardly tossed around her bed, showing that Elsa had been moving in her sleep during the dream. However, she doesn't feel the satisfying afterglow of an orgasm on her person. She wonders if it's because she didn't actually come in the dream or because her real self wasn't turned on enough to follow in her dream self's footsteps. Regardless, she feels rather cheated out a decent, hands-free joyride.

Then it hits her what she had just been dreaming about.

Her eyes widen, and her stomach twists as the sexy teacher version of Anna flashes in her mind. One of the most classic sexual fantasies had successfully invaded Elsa's subconscious and made her fantasize about her son's teacher. And here she thought she was finally getting over Anna after almost a month since their sexual encounter.

Apparently not.

Her brow furrows, trying to think about why she hasn't pushed away these feelings. She's had lovers in the past that she easily brushed off, girlfriends she went through the break-up process with. After what was supposed to be a one-night stand and this is the result, Elsa is baffled.

It kind of pisses her off.

Her mind wanders back to her dream. It's been a long time since her sexual fantasies invaded her dreams. The last sex dream she can recall experiencing was when she was pregnant, and her hormones were insatiable. Jane coaxed her into buying a vibrator during that time period, and it worked wonders.

When she fixes her focus on what the dream had been about, she lets out an involuntary moan. Not only does her subconscious want to imagine Anna having sex with her again, but her conscious mind is apparently very open to the idea as well.

With an angry growl, Elsa throws off the covers and enters her bathroom, flicking on the lights and blinding herself for a moment. Then she reaches the sink and turns on the cold water, gathering some in her cupped hands and splashing the water on her face.

Blinking the water out of her eyes, she grabs the hand towel on her left and pats her face dry. She glances up into the mirror hanging above her.

"This has got to stop," Elsa tells herself seriously. "You know it does."

"Do I have to come to work with you?" Olaf complains on a Saturday morning, following his mother into the elevator.

"Yes because I have to get some last minute work done, and I didn't have anywhere to put you," Elsa says, sending him an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry, honey. But hey, you have your 3DS and that Pokémon game, right? That'll keep you busy."

"I guess," he shrugs. "I do have to beat that one gym leader. . ."

"Tell you what, if you beat the gym leader by the end of my little work day and level up your Pokémon. . . Snower, was it?

"Snover, Mama."

"Right, of course. If you get your Snover to level 35 like you've been talking about, then we'll go down to Oaken's for lunch," she promises.

"Really?" he gasps. "Can I get the hot chocolate?"

"If you manage to get the job done," she winks down at him.

"I will! I'm the best trainer ever!" he declares.

Whatever that means, Elsa thinks, giving him a smile of false understanding th he doesn't catch on to.

The elevator reaches her floor and, she guides Olaf to her office, those who know him waving and saying hello. She sets him down in the seating area and tells him to use his noise canceling earbuds as she does work. He is immediately drawn into his game, no longer upset that his mother had to drag him along.

Oh, the magic of the promise of Oaken's, Elsa thinks.

Elsa sits in her desk chair and brings her computer to life, biting her lip between her teeth. She looks over a few emails and contemplates several article pitches on a list that Jane sent to her the other afternoon.

Her eyes land on a specific article title that Jasmine would eventually be in charge of if approved.

The Top Ten Most Popular Sexual Fantasies. And the tag line: How You Can Use Them to Spice Up the Bedroom.

Elsa stares and furrows her brows. She casts her gaze at her son, who is still invested in his game. She reaches over to the phone and calls Sally.

"Yes, Miss Fönn?" Sally says into the receiver.

"Uh. . . can you send Jasmine in, please?" Elsa wonders, trying her best not to flush.

"Sure, right away!"

"Thank you."

Elsa hangs up the phone and leans back in her seat, running her hands over her eyes. She can't believe what she's about to do.

There's a courtesy knock on her door before Jasmine enters. Olaf doesn't even acknowledge her as she walks in.

"You wanted to see me?" she asks.

"Yes. Please, take a seat." Elsa gestures to the plush chairs in front of her desk, and Jasmine sinks into one. "I wanted to discuss the sexual fantasies article."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. Can you give me a run down on what it's all about?"

"Well, standard fantasies that men and women explore in the bedroom to get creative and keep things lively," Jasmine says, eyes looking upwards as she begins to recall them. "There's domination—not necessarily the BDSM stuff, mind you, that's an entirely different case—there's the threesome fantasy, mutual masturbation, spanking, uh what else. . . role-play is a popular—"

"Role-play. Tell me about that."

Jasmine blinks. "Uhm, okay? There are many different types of role-play scenarios. Boss/intern or employee; there's sometimes a cop and the person they pulled over and they're trying to get out of a speeding ticket sort of dynamic. There's even daddy role-play but I don't know much about that one. The most common one, I've found, is teacher/student role-play." She lifts a brow at Elsa. "Why?"

"I'm just curious. . ."

With a skeptical glance, "Uh-huh."

"I have another question. A hypothetical one—"

"Meaning it's actually not hypothetical, and it's really about you or a scenario you've been in."

"Hush. It's hypothetical, Jasmine."

Jasmine rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Elsa. You have a knack for being hypothetical with me, but it's always—" She catches the glaring pout sent her way. "Just continue."

"So, hypothetically, let's say a certain individual has. . ." She checks the see if Olaf is listening, but he's still involved in his game. ". . .hooked up with her child's teacher."

A sarcastic remark, "Great start, Els. Really vague."

"And this certain individual," Elsa presses on forcefully, narrowing her eyes at the shit-eating grin on Jasmine's face, "recently had a sexual fantasy of this teacher in a dream. And it was a detention scenario that was so vivid it woke me—uh, I mean this certain individual up."

The brunette laces her fingers together and observes her boss quietly, who is impatiently awaiting analysis from her love-expert journalist.

"To put it in your terms," Jasmine begins slowly, "I believe that this certain individual actually likes her child's teacher, and there's a part of her locked away in her subconscious that desperately wants to interact with the teacher on a friendly level and perhaps more. It's in my professional opinion that the individual should directly approach the teacher and take the fresh start seriously and perhaps get to know her outside of common ground, i.e. the child. The fact that the two of them have been avoiding each other and been rather on-the-rocks is silly and stupid and juvenile, and they're both adults who need to learn how to handle this sort of situation.

"There's something there because sex would not have occurred if there wasn't, especially between two emotional women." Jasmine adjusts herself in her seat. "It's not surprising at all that this certain individual had a sex dream about the teacher because she's been sexually inactive for quite some time. Perhaps if she sits down and speaks to the teacher as suggested, she might discover that there really is nothing there, and she can move on. If there is, she should explore it. If not, she'll get over it. It's a win-win either way."

Elsa gapes at Jasmine, wildly impressed with how well worded her current predicament was just handed to her. And Jasmine has a point. If Elsa did get to know Anna on a personal level, disregarding the awkward beginning, and the fact that Olaf is now their biggest common ground, she might fall under the spell of the charming redhead once more, but for a longer period of time.

"Anything else?" Jasmine asks, smirking at her clearly-stunned boss.

"No. . . nothing else. Thanks, Jasmine. I look forward to reading the article."

Jasmine brightens. "You're very welcome. Have a good rest of your day, boss."

"Yeah, you too."

A beaming Jasmine leaves Elsa in her office; and, once again, her only company is Olaf. He didn't even glance over throughout the entire conversation, so focused on his video game that whatever Elsa had just been discussing was nothing but background noise to him, if any noise at all.

Elsa bites her lip again and wonders if she has the courage to approach Anna to propose an official start-over without the snark and the sass—save for their playfulness during Family Reading Night. To see that kind, caring, affectionate Anna she did back at the bar once more. She knows that Anna has every right to bitch at her for leaving, but it's getting tiresome; and, if actually sitting down with her and talking with her like a friend is the way to fix everything, then Elsa is willing to try it.

"I did it!" Olaf cheers suddenly, making his mother jump. "I beat the gym leader!"

"Good job, kiddo!" Elsa says, grinning at him. "Did you level up your Snover?"

"No, not yet. But I'm gonna really soon!" he chimes, diving right back into his game.

When Elsa picks Olaf up from school one day, she's immediately greeted by tears and whimpers. At first she thinks it's because his sometimes-bully has been picking on him, but she knows she would have received a call from the principal informing her of the incident. If there's one thing she can praise Arendelle Charter on, it's their immediate contact of parents if there is an incident.

So she picks him up and carries him to the car, her poor boy very upset and not keen on fessing up as to why he is in the first place.

"Bad day?" she coos.

"Yeah," he mumbles, burying his face in his mom's neck.

"What happened?"

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Elsa's brows inch together as they reach the car. She sets him down and crouches so she can wipe away his tears on his level.

"Why would I get mad? Did you get in trouble?" she asks.

He nods.

"Hey, you know what? You're not lying to me," she points out. "You're being truthful immediately and that's a good thing, and I'm proud of you. I'm not gonna get mad, I promise. Just tell me."

His lip quivers, and he slings his backpack over to his front. Elsa watches as he shuffles through his bag before grabbing a note in elegant handwriting—definitely not his own—and giving it to her. She blinks and slowly takes it from him, reading it to herself.

Miss Fönn, your child has been disruptive for a couple of days in spite of my constant warnings. I wish it didn't have to come to this, but I would like to see you in a parent-teacher conference tomorrow evening to discuss his behavior. Please email me if you're available.

—Anna Eldr

"Oh, Olaf," Elsa sighs, opening the car door and helping him in his seat. "What got you in trouble?"

"There's a new girl named Dot at school, and she's real shy," Olaf began. "So I wanted to see if I could be friends with her."

"Mhm."

"And so I started talking to her during class sometimes, but I whisper, I promise!" he says.

"Olaf, sweetie, your heart is in the right place, but class isn't the place to socialize. I understand your intentions," she kisses him on the forehead, "but when Miss Eldr is talking, you have to be quiet and respectful."

"I know. . . I'm sorry," he mutters.

Elsa gets in the front seat and turns on the ignition. "It's alright. I'm not mad at you. Let's grab McDonald's for dinner tonight, okay? Turn that frown upside-down."

He smiles a bit. "M'kay."

As she drives out of the parking lot, Elsa is hit with mixed emotions. On one hand, she's angry that Anna made her son cry. On the other hand, she knows Anna was in the right to scold him while he's in her classroom. And somewhere in the middle, Elsa is not looking forward to a conference with Anna. She can picture the disapproving expression that she will be greeted with the moment she steps into the classroom.

Considering Anna's personality and tolerance for children, Elsa reminds herself that she wouldn't have scolded Olaf if she didn't think it was necessary. He must have rubbed her the wrong way, and she wonders what their conference will entail.

When the two Fönns return to their humble abode, Olaf seats himself in front of the television and eats his Happy Meal while watching a show on Cartoon Network. Elsa steals away into her office with her dinner and emails Anna to let her know she will be attending the conference.

A few minutes later, she receives a brief response from Anna giving her the time preferred. Right after school tomorrow. . .

Elsa is not going to enjoy this.

Why do I feel like I'm the one in trouble? Elsa thinks as she walks towards room 18. Olaf is still playing on the yard with some of his friends and a girl she has never seen before. She assumes that's the girl, Dot, he has been talking to that got him in trouble and landed Elsa in a conference.

She reaches the door and feels her stomach clench, but not unpleasantly. Her dream creeps back into her mind's eye, Anna slowly unbuttoning her blouse to expose her supple, freckled breasts. Seeing the authoritative glow in Anna's teal eyes as she gazes down at Elsa, showing her who exactly is in charge. Elsa's breath hitches, but she snaps herself out of it immediately.

Stop. Be professional.

Taking a deep breath in, Elsa opens the classroom door, though it feels as though she should have knocked beforehand as soon as she enters the room. Anna is sitting at her desk, calmly typing on her computer.

Elsa takes a second to pick out the differences of the classroom here compared to the classroom in her dream to make sure she can keep herself focused. The room is full of color and is brightly lit, not dim and bland. The board is for dry erase markers and not for chalk, and is mostly clean save for vocabulary words, seating arrangements, and homework assignments. The teacher herself isn't in a skimpy outfit leaving very little to the imagination. Rather, she's dressed in a cute purple dress with tiny white flowers printed all along the fabric.

At first, she's relieved that this is nothing like her dream. But as soon as she locks eyes with Anna, who has finally torn her attention from her computer, Elsa's relief drains away, replaced with anxiousness.

"Uhm. . . hello, Miss Eldr," Elsa says.

"Good afternoon, Miss Fönn. Please take a seat," Anna says, gesturing to a chair that is set in front of her desk.

Elsa, not accustomed to being asked to sit because of her current position of power in her occupation, slowly makes her way over to the chair and sinks into it. Anna laces her fingers together and places her hands on the top of her desk, looking at Elsa expectantly. Elsa shifts nervously underneath her gaze and decides to speak first.

"So, you wanted to talk to me about Olaf?" she asks.

"Yes. He's been very disruptive for the past several days since the new girl has come to class," Anna says. "Talking during lessons and not paying attention. Not only do I worry that this is a distraction to the student, but I also feel that it's distracting for him. Olaf is a very bright boy, but he is rather talkative."

"I know, I'm sorry about that. Truth be told, Olaf does have a bit of ADHD—and I know that's not an excuse, but it sometimes doesn't register with him that what he does is distracting. His heart was in the right place, I assure you."

Anna nods. "He definitely does try to be friends with everyone and it's very sweet that he's helping to make Dot feel welcome in new surroundings, but class time is not the appropriate place."

"I talked to him about that. He was truthful with me. How was he today?"

"Quiet. . . and he didn't really raise his hand to answer questions like he normally does."

"He feels awful and probably a bit humiliated," Elsa says tartly, her Mama Bear instinct coming on. "He adores you, you know. So this was a big blow to him. He most likely feels as though you're still angry with him."

"Don't turn this around on me, Elsa," Anna says, formalities gone and wounds that had finally started to close reopening. "Don't you dare. This is about your child's behavior in my class. I don't care if he likes me. He needs to respect that when I'm speaking, he shouldn't be talking."

"But don't make him cry!"

"I didn't realize that happened! Are you getting mad at me for doing my job!?"

"No!"

"That's what it sounds like. I thought you were unlike those awful mothers that come in here and bitch about grades as if they're my fault!"

"I'm not blaming you for Olaf's grades or behavior. That's on me and him." Elsa grips at her knees, trying to keep her cool. "I'm upset that you made him cry. He's my baby boy, and I'm going to be angry no matter who does it."

Anna leans back in her seat and folds her arms across her chest. She and Elsa have a silent glare battle before Anna caves and sighs, glancing away.

"Fair enough. But you do need to have a serious discussion with him about this," she says calmly.

"You don't need to worry about that. And for future reference, don't call him out on it in front of everyone. I assure you that if you requested to see him after class and spoke to him in a calm, respectful tone, he would have gotten the message loud and clear."

Anna stares at Elsa. "Again, are you trying to tell me how to do my job?"

"No! God, Anna—"

"Miss Eldr."

"Cut the crap. I'm not calling you that right now because you just called me Elsa."

Anna shuts her mouth and glowers.

"It's just that I know my son and how he reacts to things. I can have a semi-adult conversation with him, talking to him respectfully and using words that he understands, and he can actually get a grip on what I'm saying. Sure, he'll ask so many questions, but I know it's because he's curious. Like I said, he adores you, and it would have made things so much easier on you if you had talked to him like I'm telling you. Obviously, you don't have to take my advice. As his parent, I simply feel obligated to let you know."

There's a moment of silence as Anna mulls over Elsa's words. She doesn't seem like she's very willing to admit that Elsa has a point.

"I hope that you didn't get mad at him because of me," Elsa says quietly.

Anna raises her brows. "What? Why? Because you ditched me after we had sex?"

Elsa's face clouds over. "I didn't really ditch you, did I? Why are you making me look like the bad guy!?"

"You are the bad guy!" Anna wails, fed up with beating around the bush. "Do you know how humiliated I was when you were in my classroom? Having to look at your son and be reminded that you and I had a fling?"

"So you did take it out on him," Elsa says darkly.

"I would never. In all honesty, I was doing my job. It's you I'm still pissed off about. For all I know, you just used me for a quick fuck!" Anna jabs a finger in Elsa's direction, fighting hot, angry tears that have been threatening to fall since the morning after that night. "I have tried so hard to be civil with you, and Family Reading Night was the first time I thought we were actually on track. But now we're here!"

"I didn't use you!" Elsa promises, her voice strained and slightly offended. "Who in the world put that thought in your head!?"

Merida, Anna thinks to herself, and my poor self-esteem. "It doesn't matter," she says instead.

"Why is this happening again?" Elsa croaks, falling back in her seat, and Anna is surprised at how fast Elsa submits. When Anna doesn't speak, Elsa continues. "Like you, I thought things were fine. . . but I guess we're still—you're still feeling hurt and upset. And you really do have every right to be." Elsa looks into her eyes. "Anna, I've told you that I'm sorry for leaving you that morning and I still am. . . I don't know what more I can say."

Anna shrugs. "I guess there really isn't much left to say. We did what we did, and we can't take it back."

"Just please, please give me a chance to make things better between us," Elsa begs. "This isn't fair to either of us; and, well, it's getting rather repetitive. We're only hurting each other the more we clash."

The redhead nods slightly. "I can agree to that."

"So, I think a start-over is in order," Elsa says. "No flirting, no impromptu sex after a couple of drinks—just friends. . . er, well, acquaintances before anything else."

"You really think we can manage?" Anna wonders. "You think we can actually put everything behind us?"

"We made a promise to be professional and let it slide. We haven't been doing a very good job, don't you think?" Elsa raises her brows at Anna, who nods again. "And the distance we've been putting between us certainly hasn't helped. We never actually talked about it. Or opened a dialogue."

"Yeah, it could have been useful to actually talk about it when we ran into each other again. . . I suppose I was too embarrassed to do so." Anna sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers. "What do you have in mind, Elsa?"

"I think we need to forget this," Elsa gestures between her and Anna, "and start fresh as though I'm not your student's mother and you're not my son's teacher."

Anna stares. "I don't follow you."

"Let's grab a casual coffee at the local café this weekend and just talk. Literally start over, as if we're two strangers just finding out about each other. Maybe we met on Craigslist or something—I dunno. Whatever it is, it's a start. No discussing our one-night-stand, no discussing Olaf. It'll be just Elsa and Anna talking like friends should."

"And you honestly think that will work?"

"Again, it's a start. It might not even work out, and we could end up hating each other."

Anna snorts. "I'm not far from that."

Elsa manages a smile despite Anna's brutal honesty. "Give me another chance. I'm not as bad as you think I am. I know my first impression hasn't been the best, but I promise you that I'm a better person once you get to know me."

There's a short pause as Anna contemplates whether or not she should take Elsa's offer. On the one hand, she could actually finally get over this tension and make a friend she can enjoy activities with other than Rapunzel outside of work and Merida. On the other hand, she would sit and suffer and find herself resenting Elsa even more so than ever before.

Yet, this is the most civil conversation they've had in a long time. And Anna feels confident about it and can see the genuine kindness in Elsa's icy blue eyes.

"Fine," Anna says. "I'll have a coffee with you."

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