A/N: It makes me so happy to see what was reviewed on this fic, like I literally thought everyone would hate it, hate my character, yada yada, run me out of town with pitchforks- you know the usual. Also, don't know if you noticed, but I've paired Jack and OC together and changed friendship to romance on my genre, nudge nudge wink wink.

Also, this chapter might be a bit confusing/annoying with flashbacks and time jump. Sorry if you don't like them! :/

Frozen Solid: Aaah no one's ever said something so nice about my stories before! I always fangirl over fic's too, I just figured everyone did :P Thank you so much!

KikaKatTIOI: I know, Arthur is just so adorable; it almost makes me wish he was in the fic more. (Who knows ;) ) You're the Jennifer Lawrence of this Fandom and writing Jackson, like literally.

Commence with the words!

Chapter 3: A Cricket in the Snow

Her feet roughly pressed into the dry grass and sent them out from under her. She rolled downward with the slope of the hill she was tugged to, as she so lovingly called- seeing as this one had been particularly forceful. Florence felt the twigs on the grass pull at her tied up hair and the dry grass scrape at her skin. Suddenly, her body was forced to a halt as it slammed into what she saw from her disoriented gaze was a tree. A sigh escaped her lips and she stiffly stood up.

"You'd think after one hundred years I would have gotten used to this." Florence grumbled to herself, rearranging at her white tutu, the fabric-as it always did- not crinkled or dirty. She stretched her arms out and rolled her neck, pulling the tied shoes away from her neck for a moment.

"I thought we talked about this, ballerinas are supposed to be graceful." A familiar voice spoke from behind her; she could practically hear his smirk.

"And I thought we established only old men have white hair." She shot back, accent making it sharper than intended, not looking back as she roughly pulled her tulle parachute from a near bush and slipping it around her shoulders with a scowl.

"Yeah, yeah I didn't hear you complaining much when I was saving you." He told her, holding his hands when she looked at him, a glare still in her eyes. "What's got you so mad anyway?"

"Just this annoying winter spirit who won't stop bothering me, in fact he's taken it upon himself to bother me for ninety and counting years." She said in her normal tone of voice, still walking back up the small hill while he glided next to her.

'Still fly's better than me,' She mused, slightly envious.

"Yeah, well he doesn't need put that much effort then, I heard she annoys easily." He told her flippantly. "Ooof!"

Her elbow jutted itself into his ribs as they reached the top of the hill, making him fall from the force. She snorted as he fell into the ground, much like she did-only this time it was funny.

"Ha, ha, ha you're so funny Jack." She deadpanned with heavy sarcasm.

Flashback:

"And this is North's workshop." A sweet southern accent chimed.

Two figures flew above a beautiful landscape of snow covered mountains giant ice glaciers. If anyone where to wander across it, which would be impossible for a human, ones wings and the others fabric wouldn't be that strange, at least compared to the Russian inspired building that was built into one giant glacier. The sun shone lightly down on them, seeming to glow the two, one in her paleness and the other in her pink tinged skin. Light brown walls and rounded ceilings stared back at them, framed by shining snow.

"Oh Charis, this is amazing." Florence breathed out her eyes reflecting the golden shimmer of the workshop that just screamed magic and wonderment.

"Isn't it just doll?" Charis giggled back, smugly smiling. "I remembered my first time here; I think I was ten years old too."

Florence didn't reply, still staring at the workshop in awe, eyes wide and shining. She hesitantly began to talk.

"Can we- do you think." She stopped speaking and shook her head slightly.

Charis smiled at the younger "mythical being" before taking her hand in her own. "C'mon"

"Wait! You mean we can go in there?" Florence said being dragged by the winged woman. "Isn't that against his rules?"

"Hey, when has Cupid ever been denied access to somewhere?"

"When have I been given access?" Florence retorted.

"Honey, your center is confidence, use it some time." The woman chided her softly. Her only reply was a soft sigh as they drew closer to the building.

"Maybe I could just wait here, at least for a few minutes?" Florence meekly asked.

Charis sighed, "Fine, just stay here okay? I'll be right back." She patted her cheek with a light pink hand before being let in by a yeti.

The two yeti's in front of her began to stare unwavering at her, causing an obvious red hue to fill her pale cheeks.

"I'll just," She coughed, backing away and readying her tulle. "Be over there- ahem yep."

She fell into the breeze shot at her and manipulated her flight with the arc over her head. The colder air pushed on her body and made her wish she wasn't flying and could wrap the fabric over her shoulders. Still, she didn't land, keeping the sky and decided to fly around the workshop. She tried to picture the gruff yetis making the toys, like Charis and others beings had told her before. She couldn't bring herself to believe it, however, even though Charis was thousands of years old and wouldn't lie.

So tangled in her thoughts she didn't see the other figure flying around the workshop, much like herself, until they collided. A shriek tore out of her mouth, the tulle went flying to the icy ground, cold fingers wrapped around her arm, something slid around her waist, and a smirk met her eyes. It was then when she realized how they must have looked. A wooden, frost covered, and curved stick was around her waist holding her up, a boy no older than her had a hand around her upper arm, and was smirking at her with mirth filled light blue eyes. She couldn't draw her own eyes away from his pale skin, surprisingly even paler than hers, and his white hair. She also couldn't help the hand that reached up and slapped at his arm.

"Ow- what was that for?" He asked her in a deeper voice than she thought he would have.

She continued to glare at him, "You knocked into me!"

"Hey, at least I caught you." He told her, feigning letting her go before she tightened her hold on the arm she hit. "See, even you realize it."

"I wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't knocked the fabric out of my hands." She shot back, her accent making it hard to understand her.

"Well," He began, sparing a glance at her tutu, "If you had been graceful like all the other ballerinas you could have just twirled away."

Her glare intensified as he continued, "Really, you should be thanking me right now."

"Well then, I thank you for not having hair that reflected your age, as otherwise I would have fallen." She drawled out, it wasn't the best reply, but she couldn't take the words he'd doubled with his light tone.

"It comes with being the Winter Spirit." He flippantly said flatly, while he flicked his wrist with the hand holding his staff, sending her flying into a pile of snow.

She heard laughing as she pushed her way out of the snow and saw him doubled over against his staff in the air. Brushing it out of her dark hair, she kicked one foot out and pushed the staff down, making him fall with it and rather clumsily clamber back into position.

"Wow, so I just had the pleasure of kicking the Winter Spirit, I can't wait to tell my friends!" She falsely squealed.

"No, you just had the pleasure of being in my company and being saved by me." He smiled smugly, leaning on the staff again. "I'm Jack, by the way, Jack Frost."

"Florence," She reluctantly told him.

"So what are you?" He asked her genially.

"Eh, I like to call myself the Keeper, sometimes just Florence works as well." She jested, standing up from the snow and fanning out her tutu."I just really tell people what they need to hear, guide them, advise them, give them confidence, and the like."

"So, you're the voice in peoples head?" He pointed out.

"Pretty much." she admitted, her puffed out chest deflating.

"Like the cricket?" He asked her, standing onto the snow now.

"From that book Pinocchio, then I guess so." She laughed slightly.

"And you fly?"

She let out a sigh in exasperation at all the questions. "Yes, did you expect me to use an umbrella and float through the wind?"

"Because the fabric makes much more sense."

"Florence!" Both immortals looked back as giant white feathered wings with a small multi-pink toned body flew towards them."I leave you for five minutes and you manage to fly to the other side of the building? Do you know how hard it is to fly in this weather?" she didn't spare a glance at Jack as she picked up Florence's tulle and threw it into her hands.

Cupid's hands grabbed onto Florence's once she saw she had the tulle secured and threw her into the air for the wind to catch her. She turned around and continued to drag Florence away, giving Jack a glimpse of her arrows on her back.

"We can go in now; North's told the yeti's its fine to let you wander around a bit." Charis told her as they continued to move away.

"Wait! You're going in there?" Jack called after them.

"Sorry Jack," Florence called back unapologetically, before being pulled away faster by Charis.

"C'mon, one hundred and seventy-eight years and I still can't in, but she does?"

End

Flashback:

Florence had just finished advising a woman not to go into a building, which she listened to and watched on the news later when she got home that it was broken into. There had been no casualties, but still. Her range of guidance really ranged, it saved a life, a heart, change timelines, and so on. All she did was give them the push to make a snap decision. Anyway, she was still in the area- the tug hadn't struck yet and she was taking advantage of this break. She breezed over a park, taking delight in the faces of some who saw her float above.

"So they can see you, Cricket?"

She jumped in surprise, one hand slipping off tulle and felt the familiar feeling of the staff wrap around her waist until she grabbed it again.

"They can't see you?" She asked, hearing the underlying tone in his voice. "You're literally snow; you must have tons of believers."

"You would think, I haven't been seen for, two hundred and eight years." He told her following her as she flew over to a rooftop and let the tulle fall around her shoulders. "How did you get them to see you?"

"They don't really see me," She began, "They're just the ones who aren't so narrow-minded with the voice in their head- it's mainly children. You make my thirty years seem like nothing." She chuffed at the end.

"But you're believed in." He said, opting to balance on his staff as she sat on the ground.

"And you're the one with the legend's books, movie, costume, song- really I could go on for ages." She told him, more to get the frown away from his face as he stared at the children in the park.

He sighed and muttered quietly, "None of that matters if they don't believe you."

Florence rolled her eyes before standing up, he didn't look over at her, nor did he see the small hand that hit him on the back of the head.

"Don't be an idiot Jack."

"Do you just enjoy hitting me?" He asked her, "I thought crickets were nice."

"And ballerinas are apparently graceful." She laughed, remembering their last and first encounter. "Apparently I'm supposed to be a lot of things I'm not."

He opened his mouth to speak back, only for her cut him off.

"Sorry Snowflake, someone needs me." She told him, feeling that pull on her body in the direction needed.

Before he could call back a goodbye, she leaped off the rooftop right as the wind gusted towards her.

"C'mon breeze, we're needed." Was all he heard as she left.

End

Flashback:

A small house sat in the middle of seemingly nowhere, trees fenced the home in and dirt covered the ground. The sun beat down merciful-less and what seemed to be the only source of water was the well in front of the mail box. The echoes of laughter from what sounded like several children came from inside, followed by the call from a stressed mother- telling them to go outside. Florence smiled and cracked her neck; it was time, as she felt the tug pull urgently. It was almost- nope now it was the right time. After having done this for seventy-three years someone would think it would have gotten less exciting, but then again they obviously hadn't seen Cupid or North, or even the other Guardians-who she had met fleetingly and by coincidence.

The tug felt like it was trying to drag her as a freckled and crazily orange curled covered boy stepped out onto the porch. Dressed in the fashion trend for 1953, overalls and a striped shirt that had a few questionable stains. She waited before he moved, watching him head towards the well.

"Now, do you think your mam would want you playing in that well?" She asked him, chiding him slightly.

The younger boy, maybe ten, stopped his walking and looked around. He didn't see her yet, or seem to want to as he continued.

"Always the stubborn ones," She sighed before dropping onto her knees in front of the boy. "I think you shouldn't do what you're going to do. Think of how your mam would feel."

His gasp filled her ears and a smile took over her face.

"See, I knew you would get it soon." She reached out and patted his cheek for extra measure.

"W-what are you?" he asked, showing her three gaps in his teeth.

"Ever seen Pinocchio?" She got a nod in return "Think cricket."

End

Present time:

"But really, Jack it's been a while since I've seen you." She told him, sitting down on the hill-ignoring the tug that didn't feel that urgent.

Despite the many times they had seen each other, though the others were fleeting and not that eventful, she hadn't seen his face since 1976, which was four years ago. That time was spent mainly with Charis in her palace- a place she mainly stayed at, the older spirit who took to the younger one as a sort of mother.

"Somewhere needs snow and you get-what's the word you use- tugged away," He reminded her, both taking the moment of non-urgency to stare at the mainly empty park. The attention focused upon the two children playing ball.

"Actually," She sheepishly smiled, "I've got to go, my bets placed on the girl holding the ball near the street- oop and there it goes. Gotta run!"

"As usual." He said, picking his staff off and flying away.