Something I thought it'd be fun to write. Heh. Just, you know, opened up a Word Document, and started writing, and - poof. This came out.

Hope you enjoy it!

She's familiar, but he doesn't know why.

She's got hair as red as fire, like the sun, burning and rising into the sky just as the day starts. It's a wild mane of hair, spiralling and curly and untameable, and for some reason, it suits her.

She's got eyes that are a shocking, piercing blue; not an icy kind of blue, like his, but it's a warmer kind of blue – the kind of blue that makes him feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside.

She's got freckles all over her face – days spent in the sun, running and whooping and yelling and screaming, racing her neighbours across wide green lands and leaping up onto her horse, to gallop away when her mother starts to nag.

She's got a flaming temper, and a ridiculous laugh, and a crude sense of humour.

And he knows her from somewhere. He knows he does.

So even though Burgess is his home, he makes the time to visit Scotland whenever he can, because he knows her. He does.

One day, he finds out her name.

They're at the Pole, in North's home, he and all the other Guardians. Tooth is telling them about three triplets whose teeth she's just collected: "They all lost their teeth at the same time, can you believe it? When they were playing some prank which went wrong, something to do with a lot of paint and whip cream and a horse – !"

Sandy makes an excited tinkling noise, and a golden image forms above his head – of three very familiar, curly-haired boys.

Bunny laughs: "I knew it. The Dunbroch triplets."

"The Dunbroch triplets?" Jack leans forward, interested, because he suddenly remembers these boys – they're her brothers, the brothers of the girl whom he's sure he knows but doesn't know how. "Who are they?"

"They come just below you on naughty list," says North, in his accent, and letting out a booming laugh. "Every year. They nearly top you once!"

"Hubert, Harris and Hamish," says Bunny. "The little anklebiters. They nearly mess up my egg hunts with those pranks!"

"They've got a sister, too," Tooth supplies, and Jack's heart starts to pound suddenly: "She's got lovely teeth."

"What's her name?" Jack tries to ask, casually.

Bunny sends him a knowing look, a look that makes Jack squirm uncomfortably, and grins and says, "Merida Dunbroch."

Merida.

He knows it. He knows that name. It's a familiar sound, washing over him, drowning him in what feels a lot like warmth and happiness and just pure, plain joy. Merida.

"Why're you so interested, mate?" Bunny asks, and there's a smirk on his face now.

Jack shrugs: "Just asking."

"She always comes just at bottom of nice list," North tells him. "She is good girl, yes? But argue with mother a lot. Does not always think before she act."

Doesn't always thinks before she acts. Yes, that sounds familiar – reckless, fiery, brave.

Why doesn't he remember? He should, he knows he should. He thought he'd remember, after getting his teeth, from that battle with Pitch. With it done, he'd gone through it again, reliving all his memories, finding out who he was before he'd been Jack Frost.

He can't remember a red-headed Scottish girl called Merida.

"She don't like being told what to do, that one," says North. "Terrible temper, yes? Very headstrong. Very much like you." This last part is directed towards Jack, who blinks.

"She still believes, you know," says Bunny, suddenly.

Tooth nearly falls off her chair: "What?"

Bunny nods. "Yeah. Met her at the last egg hunt. I didn't expect her to see me, but she looked right at me, and told me to make sure it was near impossible for her brothers to find the eggs. They found 'em all in the end, of course."

She still believes.

Jack just stops to say goodbye, and then he's off.

She dreams, sometimes, of a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, brown hair that turns white and brown eyes that turn blue.

He's familiar, to her, but he's not, too. An unfamiliar stranger.

Maybe she's seen him in a crowd, somewhere, before.

But that doesn't explain why she keeps seeing him in her dreams.

One day, she wakes up to find frost on the window and snow floating gently in her room. She is confused, because she knows that it's not yet winter, so why is there snow?

Maybe it's a snow spirit. She believes in things like that, even if the rest of her family doesn't. She still remembers seeing the Easter Bunny – funny, she'd expected him to be a bit more small ad bunny-like than a tall, towering giant bunny that didn't really look like a bunny.

But why is it snowing in her room?

"Is someone there?" she decides to ask, finally.

There is something being drawn on the frosted window, she realises. She's about to clamber out of bed to go check it out, when it springs out at her, floating in the air – MY NAME IS JACK FROST.

Jack Frost.

She shuts her eyes, and her head is spinning, and she remembers an old tale of her mother's –

When she opens her eyes again, she is not alone in her room. There is a boy floating there, right in front of her, a boy with white hair and blue eyes. He is looking at her, as if afraid, his eyes blue and wide and nervous.

"You're Jack Frost," she says.

"You're Merida."

"I am," she nods. "I think – I think I know you from somewhere."

She doesn't know why she's saying this, to a guy she doesn't even know, a guy floating in the middle of her room. She should panic, or scream, or chase him out, but she doesn't. She doesn't know why, but something feels – something feels right.

"I think I know you from somewhere, too," he says, and he lands on the edge of her bed. "But I don't know where."

He has to remember. He knows he does. But so many things have happened in three hundred years, he doesn't know if he'll ever remember any single person. But how can he forget a person like Merida?

"That's kind of creepy," she says, and he sees a small smile on her face.

"Very," he agrees.

She sighs, stretches back out on the bed. She's not very sure of what she is doing, talking with an immortal winter spirit in her bedroom, but somehow she's not afraid.

"So, Jack Frost," she says. "Who are you, exactly?"

Sandy is looking at the Moon with a knowing glance.

Yes, the Moon tells him. They have found each other again.

Sandy makes a tinkling sound, and a series of images flash across his head.

Shall I tell them? The Moon muses. Shall I restore what is the only remaining part missing of Jack's memories, shall I allow the girl to remember a life that was both hers and not hers?

The Moon can remember a great Scottish king, sailing across savage seas to see a New World for himself. He can remember a red-headed princess accompanying her father, insisting she is old enough for this trip. He can remember them staying in a village, in a house with a brown-haired boy with a charming grin and a young girl with a bright, shy smile. He can remember the boy and the girl, arguing, laughing, talking, late nights spent by the fire.

He can remember them falling in love.

But of course they fell in love. They fall in love, every time, over and over and over again. Because that it is their destiny. Through every age and every time, from the time of the Greek heroes to the time of the Tudors and beyond. It is only in these past three hundred years, since the time Jack Frost emerged from frozen lake without any memory of who he was, that they have not ever met, that they did not find each other. But now they have, because Jack has found himself again.

Even with all the odds stacked against them, they find a way to each other, as they always have, and they fall in love, as they always have, because she is Merida Dunbroch and he is Jackson Overland Frost and that is their destiny.

To find each other, and to be together, and to fall in love.

No, he tells Sandy. No. I will let them fall in love all over again.

Sandy smiles at him.

The Moon knows his old friend approves.

Sooo...what do you think? (Reviews would be lovely. Greatly appreciated.)