Warning: Contains references from the Guardians of Childhood books and may appear to be spoilers for movie watchers.
Because It's Christmas
Pitch growled and squinted as the bright multicolored lights drew closer.
"What is THAT?" he demanded.
"What does it look like? It's a Christmas tree!" Jack said grinning brighter than any of the lights. He held out the three foot tree.
"Get that away from me." Pitch said turning up his nose at Jack and his tree.
"Aw, North said you wouldn't like it. I was hoping to prove Santa wrong."
"Yes, well sorry to disappoint you, Jackie but I'm not one for celebrating the holidays."
"I got you a gift," Jack replied as if he hadn't heard Pitch. "Was going to make you wait until Christmas Day, but I think you could use a dose of Christmas cheer." He set the tree down right on top of Pitch's globe and hopped off to land in front of the Nightmare King.
"I don't want it," Pitch turned away from Jack and started heading towards the stables. Jack cut him off.
"Are you sure?" the winter spirit asked, hovering above him.
Pitch narrowed his eyes which amused Jack. "Frost, if you don't move away-" he didn't get a chance to finish his threat as Jack stared at him, smiling like a moron. Pitch sighed. "What is it?" He asked and held out a hand in order to take whatever Jack had to offer him. He figured the sooner the white haired boy would disappear.
Jack gave him an excited toothy grin and landed in front of Pitch. He placed his hand over Pitch's palm. The Nightmare King waited expectantly as Jack closed his eyes and concentrated. Pitch stared at their hands. Nothing happened. "Jack-" Pitch started to move his hand away.
Jack grabbed it. "Wait!"
"Make it quick, Frost," Pitch warned.
"As you command," Jack replied sarcastically and focused. Suddenly Jack exhaled and there was a silver light that shined through their fingers.
Pitch shivered as something cold and heavy grew in palm. Jack moved his hand and Pitch gasp as memories long buried resurfaced as fresh as if he'd just live it. There resting in the palm of his hand was his Galleon with its four sails and long spiky body made of ice and snow.
He blinked several times, unbelieving that Jack, destructive Jack could have created something so delicate. He looked up from his hand and saw Jack's self-serving grin and narrowed his eyes. "How did you-?"
"Sandy helped me. He gestured that he had been up against your nightmare ship many times, it wasn't something he could easily forget."
Pitch pressed his lips together. Sanderson, of course. He nodded with satisfaction and held the mini ice sculpture up; it caught the lights from the tree and reflected them. The Galleon hull turned blue than green, then yellow and red before going blue again as he turned it left and right, closely examining it.
Jack watched him closely, memorizing every expression on Pitch's face, he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his long life.
"Why?" Pitch asked, his voice soft and confused. "Why would you do this to me? For me?" he corrected.
"Because it's Christmas," Jack answered lamely. "And just because you're permanently on the Naughty List it doesn't mean you should be forgotten."
Pitch remained silent for a moment, unsure what to say.
"Plus we bad boys should stick together. I'm on the Naughty List too."
"Are you?" Pitch arched an thin eyebrow up in amusement.
"According to the Big Guy I hold the world record."
The sides of Pitch's mouth turned up in a smirk. "Good to know I'm in bad company," he joked. He carefully set the frozen figurine on his makeshift stone table. "Thank you, Jack." He said quietly, almost to himself. He placed a steady fingertip on the gift, lightly tracing the crow's nest. More clearly he said, "If that is all, please send my regards to the rest of the Guardians, and the children of course," he added sliding his hands together behind his back.
Jack took that as his signal to leave. "Merry Christmas, Boogeyman," he told Pitch and jumped into the air. There was a blast of cold air as Wind caught him and lifted the Guardian of Fun back to the surface.
"Merry Christmas, Frost," Pitch whispered quietly.
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