"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuck I am so late." Elsa Kirsch spoke to her own reflection as she hastily applied a thin layer of mascara, pulling a truly obscene face as she did so – she'd never been particularly gifted in the art of being a girl. Once she was satisfied with the way she looked, or rather too fed up to carry on, she took a step back and frowned at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her jeans were ripped at the knees, her once white Converse were now weathered and greying and her blonde hair fell across her shoulders in messy waves. For a moment she considered changing into something that was at least freshly laundered, before deciding she really didn't care, after all she was only going to senior scribe and Elsa was fairly sure the dress code was 'casual'.

She patted down the pockets of her skinny jeans, making sure all the essentials were in place.

Phone? Check.

Keys? Check.

Ready to go.

Elsa bounded down the stairs two at a time, making sure to keep a tight grip on the railing as she went, no one wanted to turn up to the biggest event – after prom - of their senior year crippled as a result of their own god damn clumsiness. When both the blondes feet were planted firmly on the ground floor she glanced towards the kitchen, frowning when her gaze was not met with the image of Shane raiding the fridge for whatever she could get her hands on.

"Shane?" Elsa called out.

"She already left älskling. Oliver picked her up when you were in the shower." The voice of her mother floated from the TV room, Elsa followed it, poking her head through the door way and smiled at her mother.

Lisa Kirsch really was a sight to behold, a true Scandinavian beauty who was at least 6'4" in heels, with brilliantly blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Elsa's mom had been born and raised in Malmo, Sweden where she'd had a brief career as a model before falling pregnant by Elsa's scumbag photographer father and moving to Beacon Hills of all places to 'get away from it all'.

"It was kind of them to wait for me." Elsa muttered a response, making a mental note to freeze Shane out for all of three seconds when she next saw her. Shane Campbell was Elsa's best friend turned surrogate sister. She'd moved in with the Kirsch's - a family made of up Elsa, her mom and her mom's weird older brother Viktor – when her own mom had moved away from Beacon Hills. Shane had point blank refused to be separated from her best friend, and so the arrangement was made that she would simply move in with her instead.

"Oliver said something about traffic or the weather…" Lisa's voice trailed off as the television stole her attention away from her only child. Elsa raised an eyebrow; clearly 'My Dream Home' was more important than her.

It was the flickering of the lights that drew Elsa's attention to the weather outside, and she moved across the room, stopping by the window and staring open mouthed out into the street that at present looked more like that hell mouth than the height of suburban living. She groaned as she turned from the window back towards her mother, pouting her bottom lip out gently. "Mama…" It had been a long time since Elsa Kirsch called her mother by this particular name, and Lisa knew that it was one her daughter used only when she wanted something.

"Drew and Johnathon are about to show Kirsty and Pete what their dream home could look like." Lisa stated simply, as though that were reason enough for Elsa not to interrupt her further.

"But Mama look at the rain, will you please drive me to school?"

Lisa picked up the empty wineglass from the table her long legs had been resting on and tapped it gently. "Ask your uncle hjärtat."

"Don't sweetheart me, I know where your loyalties lie mother." She sent a mock glare in her mother's direction before disappearing out of the room in search of Viktor.

Viktor Kirsch was the literal embodiment of the stereotypical weird uncle. He'd moved to America when Elsa was eight and moved into the basement where he'd opened his own apothecary and yoga studio and spent the majority of his days wearing very little and burning incense.

"Viktor?" The blondes voice was quiet as she knocked on the door to the basement, after some shuffling and the knocking over of god knows what the eccentric man pulled open the door and beamed up at his niece. "Could you give me a lift to the school?" She asked, wrinkling her nose as the overwhelming scent of lavender incense invaded her nostrils.

Viktor Kirsch blinked slowly at his niece, mulling over her words before simply shaking his head. "It's not in the stars pussgurka, not tonight. There are other forces at work tonight."

Elsa sighed heavily and raised a shaped brow. "What does that even mean? ...and did you just call me a kiss cucumber? Is that supposed to be endearing? What kind of freaky incense are you really burning down there Vik?"

Viktor closed the door to the basement without another word and Elsa blew air into her cheeks in frustration. She was going to have to take her bike, in the pouring rain. Fuck her father for not giving into her guilt trip and buying her a car for her last birthday and fuck Oliver for having too much of a crush on Shane to think to wait for his other best friend to finish showering – an act that would be made completely obsolete the moment she stepped out the front door and into the rain.

She was soaked through by the time she'd dragged her bike out of the garage, and was stood on the sidewalk doing her very best to pull the pink tassels from the handlebars when a familiar voice caused her to look up, water dripping down her nose and scowl set firmly upon her features.

"Are you going to senior scribe?" It asked, and Elsa had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Me? Oh no…I just figured a rainstorm was the ideal time to film another episode of pimp my bicycle for my YouTube channel."

Scott McCall shielded his head from the rain with his jacket and blinked his chocolate orbs at the blonde. He was quiet for a moment, unsure whether or not she was being serious.

"Uh…well I was just going to ask if you wanted a lift?" He gestured towards the blue jeep parked on the other side of the street, Stiles Stilinski waved from the driver's seat.

Elsa ran her hands through her dripping wet hair and laughed softly. "Oh…please, yeah, yes please I mean. Thank you. I'm sorry for being an ass." The crush she'd harboured for Scott McCall since she was nine years old caused her to stumble over her words.

Scott shook his head and moved his arm in a silent offering for her to take shelter underneath his jacket with him. "Do you want to bring it?" He asked with a smile.

"Bring what?"

"The bike…or the tassels at least."

"Oh god no, screw the bike." Elsa kicked the bike to the curb with a little more enthusiasm than necessary and moved to stand under the shelter of Scott's jacket.

A/N: Hey guys, it's me again starting another new fic because I'm the worst human on earth. This has been a while in the making, and after much persuasion from people on tumblr who had already taken a liking to Elsa (for whatever crazy reason) I finally decided to try out a fic for her. This first chapter is just to test the waters...make sure you guys like the sound of it, and that I'm actually capable of writing Elsa as a character. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry it's so short! Please leave a review if you've got the time. ++ head over to my tumblr (lydamartin) to find TONNES more on Elsa, there's some pretty fun edits over there so I definitely suggest you go check them out and get to know Elsa better!