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MacKenzie doesn't make a habit of going through the random doors all that often. She had dragged Will to Disneyland, true, but usually she's content to go back and forth from work to home and occasionally through the rabbit hole to the hotel where she and Will can escape for a little while. MacKenzie loves it. The hotel means there's a place where they can be well and truly alone and now that there's phones, it's not much different - they still can't get proper internet or cell signals and the phones here only serve to make it easier to find one another if they go out on their own.

It is, in a word, ideal. The perfect little hideaway.

Still, MacKenzie is curious about the doors even if she hardly ever goes through and when she finds one that's, honest to god, a gorgeous slalom course with fresh powder and all the Olympic-level gear she could ever want, she has to go in. MacKenzie has always loved to ski and it's not really something she can do with Will on account of his bad knee so she spends hours running the course, hitting the gates on every pass. There's people down there timing her and she slowly figures out this is an actual Olympics practice course and she's apparently entered. This would be strange except it feels perfectly natural, as if she's been training for this for ages. Huh. MacKenzie is sure she's never seen stranger but she's seen enough strange that she's willing to go with it.

She loads herself up in Team USA gear (including a particularly ridiculous sweater) and pushes her goggles back on her head, heading back through the door to the Nexus to find Will and drag him back here. If she's going to win an Olympic medal, she's going to have Will here to watch it. He's not the only athlete around here.

There's snow melting beneath her ski boots and into the fine carpet of the hotel corridor and beyond the door she can hear bells as spectators cheer on and she's one step in and one step out.

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Olaf gives her a bemused look as he looks around the mountains and the general air of feisty accomplishment that surrounds them. "I can't imagine wandering into a place where you're expected to win medals can be good for your blood pressure," he points out. "I take it you mean back at the hotel that it's calm for you?"

"Yes," MacKenzie says, suddenly a little awkward. "Not...here, no, this place is a little stressful. But back at the hotel? Oh. Completely pressure free. It's wonderful, isn't it? Not having anyone expecting something of you every waking moment?"

"I live my whole life pressure free," Olaf says brightly, gesturing to himself in the sort of way that says he's proud to brag about this. "Seriously, you should try it. No matter where you go, you don't give a damn about what you do or what people think. It's liberating."

"I think I would lose my mind inside of a day if I didn't have some structure and pressure." MacKenzie frowns a little, trying to figure him out.

"So what is it that you do all day when you're not skiing or snowboarding or lazing about the hotel? What did you do in New Zealand?"

Olaf thinks about that for a second, wondering if he's missing some wonderful answer about what he does do. The thing is, he really doesn't do much, does he? "Drink," he replies, shrugging. "Surf. Mostly eat and live in a supreme state of relaxation."

"I would go mad but I have to respect it," MacKenzie says, awed that someone could be that laid back and relaxed about anything. She certainly isn't.

"I suppose there's some merit to that, not stressing yourself over this thing or that."

Olaf gives a brilliantly pleased smile. "I've lived the way I've lived and it's how I'm as old as I am without barely a line for it," he says, though the whole reincarnated Baldr part helps with the wrinkles. "Try it for a week," he challenges. "Might surprise you."