A/N: I am such an evil person. I decided to publish this when I already have another story that has been put on hold for almost two whole months.

Oh, well. TNBC has always been one of my fave movies by Burton... well, as soon as I got over my childhood fear of the opening of the movie when the scarecrow was spinning around...Yeah, I admit it, it freaked me out when I was little. Regardless, it is now one of my go-to faves for any occasion. And as for Jack/Sally pairing, ALL THE WAY, BABY!

Alright, little ramble over, now for a basic premise of the story. I honestly didn't have much planned for this to be an actual published fic, but hey, inspiration doesn't take no for an answer. So, I'm just putting this out there for constructive reviews about continuing this "Jack and Sally first meet" fic, even though I already know has been done. There will be angst too (working on it in the next chapter), so don't think it's all black cats and screaming bats (my version of kittens and rainbows, because really, no rainbows at night) like other fics.

Okay, now I'm really done. Read on. Reviews please! ... Side-note: if you have any notion about clicking the review button just to diss me and my story, too late, already been done. I will laugh at you uncontrollably and pity you relentlessly about how sad you have become if anonymously insulting my work is the only happiness you will get in life. FLAMES NOT APPRECIATED.

Part 1

If there was one thing to know about Halloween Town, it was that it functioned just like any other town…but with a perpetual Halloween vibe. Knowing this, the following will make perfect sense.

To earn respect and admiration in a town, any town, one must be a 'somebody.' To be seen as a 'somebody', one must be worthy of being called a 'somebody.' And the only way for this to happen is to be noticed.

For Jack Skellington, this was a no-brainer. He was the Pumpkin King, for ghoul's sake! He was the King of Halloween, both the holiday and the town! No matter where he went, he was noticed. Because he was noticed, he was considered a 'somebody.' And because he was seen as a 'somebody', he earned the respect and admiration of every citizen of Halloween Town.

Jack was a legend. Literally. He was the epitome of horror and fright, the embodiment of terror and trickery. Jack could scare anyone, anytime, anywhere, without breaking a sweat…if skeletons could sweat, that is. He was a master of the pranking arts, a guru of the ghoulish delights, and the most sought after man in Halloween Town because of it.

Of course, this was one of the few things about being Pumpkin King that had always annoyed Jack. Since he was the co-ruler of Halloween Town, besides the Mayor, he held the greatest power and wealth. If anything, he was the sole aristocrat of the town's society, veritable royalty! As such, it wasn't hard to imagine the hordes of female creatures and demons that scoured the town every day, hoping to catch the poor skeleton man alone, hoping to seduce him and trap him in their snares.

For Jack, if it wasn't for the purpose of planning every Halloween, he would never leave his house because of those she-beasts! They were relentless! They screeched his name until the very sound echoed in his skull, causing horrid headaches. They pawed at his arms and coat until his radius and ulna nearly popped off and his sleeve was threadbare. And they were quick, too! How many miles had he run just to escape their ravenous pleadings and crudely blunt innuendos? Too many to count, that's how many.

After years and years of this treatment, Jack had almost given up on finding anyone who would see him as a normal man…Well, as normal as a living skeleton can be seen. All he wanted was to be seen as Jack. Not the Pumpkin King. Not Jack Skellington, the King of Halloween. Just Jack.

But, I guess that dream will never come true….Or will it?

Jack had successfully eluded the raging hordes of females for what seemed the millionth time that day. Sighing a breath of relief, Jack meandered towards the wrought iron gate of the graveyard. It was the only place where he could get a few moments of peace and quiet, a few moments to himself without constantly looking over his shoulder to avoid another sneak attack from some hormonal love-crazed female.

Groaning over remembering their previous attempts that eventually led to him seeking refuge in the graveyard, Jack rubbed his cranium with his bony hand as a small breeze rattled the autumn leaves, blowing them about his feet as he walked the worn path. He carefully side-stepped a few crumbling headstones and ducked under a gargoyle's wing before he looked up to see Crescent Hill, his favorite place in all of Halloween Town.

And it just so happened to be his favorite time to visit the lonely hill, being almost sunset when the ghosts would rise out of the pumpkins from the patch below the hill. Many times he would travel out to this special place, sometimes with Zero and sometimes by himself, just to watch the glowing souls rise out of the orange gourds, moaning in tune with the dying sun. Seeing the hill vacant as usual calmed the skeleton man as he started towards the curling mound.

Taking another step forward, a flash of random color caught his attention. Whipping his skull around, he searched the towering statues and headstones around him, his sockets darting around for what he saw. After a few moments of seeing nothing but gray stone and dark shadows, he just shook his head, telling himself he was imagining things. But as he took another step, that mysterious flash of color appeared again. This time instinct took hold of him as he ducked behind a neighboring demonic statue, crouching under its silently growling head. Cautiously, he peered around the corner to see what had caught his attention.

His sockets widened in surprise at seeing a breathtakingly beautiful spirit, or what he first assumed to be a spirit. The female figure practically glowed with an otherworldly essence as the sun was reaching the horizon. Because of the pale blue tint of her skin, he had assumed she was a ghost that had risen early, but the sudden bright colors of her strange dress and vibrant red hair told him that she wasn't a spirit at all. She was solid, if the faint sounds of footsteps that reached the external meatus of his ear canal revealed anything. Watching her for a moment more, a rapid realization came upon him. What if she was looking for him?

Quickly he ducked back behind the stone, breathing deeply trying to calm himself. He had to think about this rationally if he was going to escape if he had to. He delved into his memory and instantly knew that he had never met this young woman before, meaning that she must be new to Halloween Town. Where she came from, Jack had no idea, but that led him to the idea that perhaps she had never heard of him, the legendary Pumpkin King. She was new, and would have no idea who he really was, so if he were to go up to her and introduce himself, she wouldn't see him as the Pumpkin King at all! A very pleasing idea indeed.

However, since he had never met her before, he couldn't count on the notion that she had never met any other citizen. Any one of them could have told her about him, blowing his abilities far out of proportion as they described their King, inspiring hopes of being the next Pumpkin Queen in her head. What if he approached her only to find that she was just another fan, willing to do anything to seduce him? That would only depress him further by shattering his faint hope of finding someone to see the real him.

Seeing how his inner argument wasn't getting him anywhere, Jack decided to just observe this mysterious woman and see if her behavior indicated that she was looking for him. He twisted his head around the stone again, carefully studying the woman's every move.

The first thing he noticed was that she didn't seem to be looking for anything. Her head didn't swivel or turn, her eyes weren't searching over each stone and around each bend, just gazing forward towards Crescent Hill. She also didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry, so unlike the frantically searching females back in town, always flitting about on broomsticks, or other such things, looking for him. She walked slowly and gracefully, perched on what he saw to be tiny feet in small, black heeled ankle boots and loose white stockings. He could see her very small, delicate hands gently reaching out and touching the various headstones that she passed by. He was still too far away to see her face, so he was met with a decision. Should he stay in his chosen spot and continue observing, or should he creep closer to find out what she really looked like? Watching the young woman continue towards the hill, he chose the latter.

When the red-headed woman disappeared momentarily behind a two-headed demon statue, Jack took his chance. Rising to his feet, he slipped from shadow to shadow, easily leaping ten feet from stone to stone with his long legs, in order to get closer. Finding a large pillar to hide behind, he swiftly ducked at its base. Twisting his skull around the corner again, he found the object of his fascination a mere 15 feet away from him.

The young woman was sitting daintily on a marble bench near the low iron fence that created the border between the graveyard and Crescent Hill. Now that he was this close, he could easily admire the young woman's face as she gazed towards the still-occurring sunset. What Jack found amazed him, causing his sockets to widen and his bony hands to clench around the stone.

He could see that the woman was tall, similar in height to himself, but still a half foot shorter. She had a lithe, slim body, willowy with long limbs just like him. But it was what he found on her body that made his whole frame go still.

Stitches covered the woman's body, criss-crossing up and down the woman's pale blue legs and arms, even up to her face. Squinting his sockets, Jack could pick out thick, black threads holding together various seams on her legs, ankles, arms and wrists. Looking up her slim frame to her face, he found friendly, bright green eyes and a warm, stitched out smile gracing ruby lips. Her face seemed so gentle and kind, a feature so foreign to the usual glares, sneers, and ghastly expressions that he normally saw in Halloween Town.

Jack was captivated by her.

He had never run into another monster, demon, or otherwise, that ever radiated such peace. The creatures of Halloween Town were supposed to be the scariest, most frightening things ever to behold. They were meant to cause nightmares and panic attacks at the drop of a hat. It was the town's pride and joy to be able to boast of such a triumph.

And yet, to find a creature that held no malice in their expression, nor any evil intent in their being, only caused Jack to be further spellbound.

As Jack was subconsciously memorizing the woman's every feature, a slight breeze wound through the graveyard. The young woman shivered minutely, reaching up a small hand to hold her blood red hair to keep it from being messed up. The hem of the woman's dress rode up an inch or two before flowing back down, settling once more on the woman's crossed knees.

This small action drew Jack's gaze as he watched her. Studying her, Jack finally noticed the woman's attire. Her dress was compiled of various swatches and squares of fabric, sewn together like one would make a quilt. The patches didn't look very much like they belonged together, being of different colors and designs, some spots and some swirls, all thrown together. But seeing the whole picture, woman and dress, he couldn't help but admit that it worked for her.

A patchwork outfit for a patchwork woman. Fitting.

But as he looked closer, he could also see the frayed hem and redone stitching. The dress looked like it was old, or at the very least, thrown together very hastily. Jack frowned at that. Usually, only the very poor dressed like that, as if they were wearing the clothes they were buried in. And for Halloween Town, poor people were rare to come by. Sure, there were always tattered and faded clothing seen on the streets, but that was mostly meant for Halloween, when ghouls needed to look their worst for the holiday. Every other day, the people tried to put more effort in their looks.

However, looking at the woman sitting not 20 feet away from him, he could see a different kind of poverty. The patches of her dress were faded and unraveling in some places, with haphazard stitches in different colors holding the squares together. Her stockings, he could see, were loose because they too were old and threadbare, no longer able to stay upright on her legs. Her boots were scuffed and dirty, as if they never saw a single day of shining or buffing.

Jack just couldn't relate the weathered clothing with the soft smile on the woman's lips. To Jack, it looked like she didn't care at all that her clothes were falling apart or that she might get cold because the fabric was too thin. The woman looked simply content to gaze at the setting sun without a care in the world.

After watching her for almost 20 minutes, Jack finally decided that he was going to walk over and introduce himself. Damn the possible outcome of meeting yet another fan. He just had to meet this captivating woman. But just he was about to rise to his feet, thus signaling his presence to her, the event that he had originally come to the graveyard to see began.

As the sun at last disappeared over the horizon, the moon glowed with a bright, intense white light. All at once the pumpkins snapped open, their faces aglow like the fires of a thousand candles. As their fanged mouths jarred wide, hundreds of transparent, moaning ghosts sprang forth. Their excited shrieks and screams echoed throughout the night. The only thing to interrupt Jack's viewing was an unexpected, cheerful laughter, ringing like bells. Turning his skull back to the woman, he found her giggling warmly as she watched the ghosts with joy and amusement. Jack couldn't help his own smile coming over his bony face at her happiness.

But it seemed that as soon as the wondrous moment started that it ended. All of a sudden, the patchwork woman jumped up from her seat, her green eyes going wide at the stars appearing in the night sky. Her face took on a worried, almost fearful tone as she turned swiftly from the bench and began running towards the gate…which just so happened to be the direction Jack's hiding place. Jack's sockets went wide as he ducked back behind the column, pulling his long bony limbs tightly towards his chest until his was just a small lump of bone and black striped fabric cast in shadow.

Jack was inexplicably terrified of her discovering him, tucked away in a hiding place not too far from where she spent a private evening. Just imagining the pretty woman turning to find him huddling on the ground made Jack's bones shake with anxiety, a most foreign feeling to the normally overly-confident Pumpkin King.

However, Jack had nothing to fear. The young woman sped right past the column, quickly sprinting over graves and deftly avoiding random headstones, not daring to turn her head back for another look. Jack could only watch as her brightly colored form twisted and turned until it slipped through the old wrought iron gates, fleeing off into the night.

When the young woman disappeared completely, Jack pulled himself together and stood up from his hiding place. Keeping his sockets trained on the iron gates, partially wondering if she would return, Jack made his way over to the bench the woman once occupied. As he sat down, he felt, vaguely, through his pants, the warmth of the marble from where she sat.

Tilting his skull back, Jack gazed blankly off into the sky as his thoughts were consumed by the image of a lovely patchwork woman without a name.

A/N: Well, there it is. Constructive criticism is welcomed as well as ideas about where this story is going to go. I hope you get what I'm trying to do with the characters, like making them more human than the movie portrayed, and I would love some feedback about how it went.

And once again, FLAMES NOT APPRECIATED.