Author's note: A lot of Jack-and-Sally fans (myself included) were completely a-squee by the adorable videos and pics posted online of the Hong Kong Disneyland Jack and Sally being kissy and snuggly with each other at the park. Those vids, followed a charming fanart illustration I saw of Sally pulling a surprised Jack in for a kiss, inspired this fic. :3
Jack slipped through the door of the inn room, a large wicker basket hooked over his boney arm. Sally felt herself relax completely for the first time since their arrival in the Bermuda Triangle.
"There now." said Jack. He lifted their sons from the basket, placing them beside his wife. "That's better, wouldn't you agree? I'm pleased to report that they were doing reasonably well back home. Our sitters followed procedures to a tee. Still Sally, I'd say you were correct. They belong here with us. I maintain a romantic get away without them was a bold idea, but perhaps it was too soon."
"I should have said more earlier, but I didn't know how I'd feel once we got here." Sally whispered. "I'm sorry you had to go all the way back to Halloweentown to fetch them, Jack, but thank you for doing it."
The Pumpkin King stretched, reaching his fingertips to the ceiling.
"Not at all." he yawned. "You're hardly alone in your relief. I'm every bit as happy as you are to have all of my Skellingtons together." With that, Jack crawled into the bed, taking a place near his wife and sons. "This may not be quite the relaxing romantic vacation we'd anticipated, but on the other hand, we have years ahead of us for that. Centuries, even."
"Mmhmmm." breathed Sally. Jack yawned a second time, closing his eye sockets. Wind-chimes on the balcony stirred in the warm breeze, releasing an eerie chord. A strip of vaporous fog slid past the curtains, probably the hint of some busy spirit taking a shortcut. "This place is like home in some ways." Sally whispered. "In other ways, it's almost better." Her family was already asleep, but for some reason she wanted to speak that thought out loud.
The Bermuda Triangle, much like Halloweentown, was a land for shadowy dark things. There ended most similarities. Where Halloweentown was jagged, a chilly assemblage of stone paths and peaked rooftops, The Triangle spread out as soft and flat as an open hand. The few hard edges, mostly long forgotten shells of old flying machines, had long been swallowed and diffused by vegetation. On all sides were ribbons of sand stroked by tepid waves and swirling mists. Enormous red and purple flowers looked on, nodding in the warm wind like wise elders. Afternoons in The Triangle were painfully bright. Most everyone hid inside, doing little that wasn't in some capacity recreational. At night, the black sky was so full of stars it looked as though it had been painted with a spray gun in wide splattery bands.
Jack had been here before, several times in fact, but not since he was a small skeleton boy. Now with his own wife and family, it seemed as good a time as any for a short vacation. For Sally, who had not yet seen much of anywhere other than the holiday towns of Halloween and Christmas, The Triangle was nearly surreal in its dreamlike strangeness. Tropical ambiance aside, she found it fascinating to observe a land with no holiday deadline. In The Triangle, Jack wasn't summoned by a frantic mayor, nor was he questioned by townsfolk in need of approvals. There were no piles of mending for Sally to finish, and no patterns to draw. Within any given lazy moment, everything felt possible. All of that was curious and delightful, but it was the other differences that made the most lasting impressions on the Pumpkin Queen.
Upon their arrival, not a single undead soul looked Sally up and down with appraisal when Jack introduced her as his queen. If anyone wondered where she'd come from, or speculated as to her qualifications for the title, those thoughts were unexpressed. Requests for seclusion were actually taken seriously, something shocking on its own when compared to Halloweentown. This was not to mention, no one flirted with Jack, not even the star struck young things who minded small matters at the inn. Sally found that especially refreshing, since at home it was known to happen right in front of her. Their first day, she observed two undead but wide-eyed housekeeping girls swoon into one another as Jack passed them in an elegantly decaying corridor. The pair quickly suppressed their display when their eyes met Sally's, and they fumbled into sheepish curtsies. The Pumpkin Queen made astounded mention of the encounter to her husband, once the couple was alone in their room.
"Well, of course." Jack said, amused at his wife's wonder. "You're The Queen of Halloween, are you not?"
"Yes, but...it's not like this at home." said Sally. "Not at all. And it's hardly as if I'm a true queen in that sense."
"Ah." Jack sighed. "To address your second point, you're probably right that it isn't quite as carved in stone as some would have it. Such formality simply wouldn't work well in Halloweentown, at least not as far as I'm concerned. It would get in the way of all the holiday work that needed to be done if everyone had to fall all over themselves with pomp and circumstance every time I showed my skull. Nevertheless, the fact remains: I am the one and only Pumpkin King. You are my wife, ergo, you are the Queen of Halloween, and there's nary a soul undead or alive who could dispute that. Beyond that darling, home is home. Halloweentown is a small place. It's like family, in its way. Families are comforting, but they also fall into unfortunate habits of riding roughshod on one another."
Sally took in her husband's words. Family remained a recent concept in her brain, belonging solely to the small secure circle she'd forged with Jack and their babies. And Zero, of course.
"Would you prefer home be more like this?" asked Jack, playfully interrupting her thoughts. He slid easily into his Pumpkin King persona, voice dipping lower as his teeth became fangs.
"If you wish, I can insure my queen receives the proper level of respect." He chased his words with a wicked laugh. Sally smiled, rolling her eyes. She touched her finger to his nose.
"I don't need curtsies at home, Jack."
And she didn't. But having now tasted both ends of this curious continuum, Sally
had to admit that she might not object to the enforcement of a happy medium.