A/N: The first note I'd like to make is that I am writing this for my own personal pleasure; I am currently working more seriously on other projects, and as such will update this only when feeling so inclined--when I'm in the "Nightmare" mood, as it were. I will try to update at least once every month, but try not to be too disappointed if a month comes and goes by without a new chapter installment.

Secondly, I invented many names for characters belonging to the Nightmare universe in this fic, most of which should be easy to figure out as far as who's who, but if you have any questions, feel free to PM me. For anyone who is still unclear, many characters in the movie went unnamed and simply fell under an obvious label in the credits, such as "Vampire #1", "Melting Man," etc., and I simply took the liberty of making up my own names for some of them, ones that I thought fit and were obvious enough to let readers know which character the name was referring to.

Enjoy.

It was difficult to anticipate or to ignore the changes that had occurred in the dreary, exuberantly maleficent minds of the townsfolk after the fateful "Christmasween" – it was what one of the smaller inhabitants had dubbed the event in a moment of insipid inspiration, and the name had stuck like Melty's face to an errant finger.

Snow had made them all a bit like children, and Sandy Claws' goodwill, no matter what any of them would care to admit to the contrary, had enwound itself just a bit, the tiniest bit, into their very undead souls.

If the Mayor was acting just a tad tipsier, if Rundunculus the Vampire seemed just a little cheerier than his normal self (along with the rest of his pale, widow's-peaked crew), Halloweentown's denizens attempted quite valiantly not to give it a second thought.

Of course, the most difficult thing to ignore was the fact that for the first time since Madame Corpse and her husband Brotty, there was going to be a wedding. There hadn't been a wedding for nearly three hundred years. The townsfolk had nearly forgotten what such an occasion called for.

They supposed a wild, boisterously Bacchian celebration would be in order, particularly so because the wedding was to be held on behalf of their most esteemed colleague and ruler, none other than Jack Skellington himself, the Pumpkin King. Who his bride was posed a slightly larger mystery, as the life-size rag doll known simply as Sally was something of an unnoticed cipher prior to Jack's joyous announcement of their blissful nuptials.

Oh, she had certainly been seen now and then, moping around the town on her shapely stitched legs and form-fitting patchwork dress, but nobody had given her much thought, even during her frenzied outburst on Christmasween at the visionary well, whilst all of them were making merry over Jack's triumphant spreading of fear and madness. None could remember what exactly it was that she had said, but most were positive it had been something akin to "Bubble, bubble, gubble."

And perhaps, most were inclined to grudgingly agree, there had been something about Jack himself. Perhaps it had been the fact that his Sandy Claws costume fit splendidly.

At this point, if any poor fool cared to bring up the idea that if his or her memory was correct, the rag doll had actually been trying to warn them of Jack's impending (though admittedly it had turned out to be quite temporary) demise, there were quite a lot of "Ahem,"s "Harrumph,"s and "Hm-hm! Not likely!"s.

Sally herself seemed a bit wide-eyed—er, that is, more wide-eyed—and much more timid than usual these days, since all the eyes of Halloweentown were fixed upon her every move. It was agreed that she'd been much more confident and self-assured when nobody had paid her the slightest attention; perhaps all this unwarranted publicity was grating upon her fragile nerves. But no one could bring themselves not to pay her any attention; she was a curiosity. Everyone wondered why Jack had chosen her; they knew, of course, that she was a singularly attractive specimen, and he was considered by all accounts to be a lucky skeleton.

But she was such a quiet little thing, prone to stammer if cornered by the throng, quite often wringing her stitched-together hands in apparent dismay, her blue cheeks spotted with a rosy blush. Jack himself was usually charismatic, charming, full of energy and enthusiasm. His bride-to-be simply didn't seem quite suited to his personality, though many were forced to admit they made a lovely couple walking the streets.

And he was obviously infatuated with her, that much was certain. As such, the town's denizens fell into an odd contentment, though tension grew taut as a string as the wedding approached; it was no little-known fact that Lagoona, the well-dwelling fish-creature, had had her eye set on Jack for some time, or that the Little Witch had adored him from her very birth; no secret, too, that Magda, the Little Witch's older sister, was far too fond of Jack for her own good. Sally had received many a black look from Jack's female admirers, and many a discerning eye from the rest of the populace; the only inhabitants who seemed to be insensible to the odd goings-on were the members of the Bone Orchestra, who had always been indifferently kind to everybody and were unconditionally friendly toward Sally. She had often stopped to listen to their music.

But as the day drew ever nearer, the looks began to soften. Sally had been spotted many a time in the dressmaker's shop, being fitted and primped with a drearily lovely off-white gown, and the decorations going up around the town began to inspire a fit of excitement in every undead heart. They ceased to be curious about Sally and instead began to rejoice—in their odd, morbidly and cheerfully frightful way—that their King was at last to have a life-long—er, death-long companion.

Sally herself began to lose her shy, embarrassed ways and walked about town openly with her old carefree manner, smiling a stitchy grin. Everyone agreed that she really did have lovely eyes, and a singularly voluptuous mouth.

Jack was becoming increasingly anxious for the whole thing to be got on with, but everyone noted that he was, despite his antsy nervousness and frequent barking at decorators, secretly thrilled to bits with the whole drawn-out affair.

It was decided that Halloween would take second precedent to the wedding, as the marriage of Jack and Sally was such a momentous occasion for all involved.

It would be a fairly uneventful Halloween, so went the plans, one filled with good old-fashioned frights and simple scary pleasures, and in their outwardly woebegone hearts, the town's citizens actually breathed a sigh of relief. After the frenzy of preparing for last year's Christmasween, a bit of relaxation regarding this year's plans was, no matter what anybody said or pretended, a welcome guest.

No one could have anticipated, however, what The Deadly Trio had in store.