Disclaimer: The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause and all its characters, creations, and such belong to Michael Lembeck, Ed Decker, John J. Strauss, and all others who helped create The Santa Clause trilogy. I own nothing except Clarabella Bloom, Bridgette Burns, Doyle Stark, and any other character not of Michael Lembeck, Ed Decker, and John J. Strauss's creation that are original characters of my own creation. My plot idea for this fanfiction comes from my imagination. Credit for the portrayal of the characters of The Santa Clause trilogy go completely to the actors and actresses behind them, especially Tim Allen and Martin Short, who portrayed Santa Claus/Scott Calvin and Jack Frost, respectively. I have not written this fanfiction to benefit me in any way, shape, or form; I am merely using my imagination in addition to Michael Lembeck's, Ed Decker's, and John J. Strauss's characters, creations, and such to produce this fanfiction for my entertainment and enjoyment, nothing more. The quotations from the chapter titles belong to William Shakespeare unless otherwise noted.
Author's Note: Yet again, my apologies for the waiting time between updates. At least it wasn't as long as it has been in the past, right? However, life really has been in the way of my writing lately, especially since my Muse seems to be… one might say avoiding me as of late…
That, and, unfortunately, for the past several days, I've been feeling a bit down about a couple things that have happened recently, so obviously that hasn't been helping any.
Of course, writing this story always lifts my spirits somewhat, and it has been a joy to hear from those who take the time to read and review (especially those on DA who I message with—you rock!).
Trivia Question: The answer I was going for was: Clarabella is not even one-thousand years old (which is particularly young for a nymph—roughly twenty-two in human years). And the winners are: Trekkie101 (I'm glad to read that you enjoyed the last chapter. I'm happy you find the elves "well-written." Please keep reading and reviewing!), ForeverACharmedOne (I'm so glad that you're "loving this story more and more"! I really appreciate it! :) Thank you so much for commenting on the humor—I've never really written anything considered humorous before this, so I'm still learning as I go along. Now I know I'm getting it right! :D Ahhh, I'm thrilled that you're enjoying Jack and Clarabella's relationship! I'm definitely enjoying writing it! I look forward to hearing more from you in your next review!), and Possibly Impossible (Before I start replying to your reviews, I just want to let you know that I will definitely start reading your fanfiction soon; like I said in the Author's Note, life is just in the way of my writing and that also crosses over into my pleasure reading. I would love to read your fanfic and answer the questions you raised in your DA message to me. :) Onto your review: Ooh, well… This fanfic is rated T, and it's definitely not being pushed any higher, so there's no fear of that happening. :) You and Jack both—he is definitely focused on seeing more orange, too. I look forward to your next review!).
Question to the Characters: And the winner is… all three submitters! Since everyone asked Jack about his experiences with massages, I decided to combine all three questions into one and see what happened. Congratulations, all, and enjoy!
The elf carrying a bag labeled "Letters to Santa" handed the icy tablet to Jack, who practically slammed the door in his face.
"More fanmail? I'm not surprised, of course, but I'm definitely pleased… Ooh!" He read the questions regarding his experiences regarding massaging, and perched on the edge of a chair in his sitting room to think. A grin quickly bloomed on his face, and his eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Well, now, ladies, if you really want to know about my experiences on this subject, I am an open book!" He gestured widely before lowering his voice to a whisper.
"You know, the thing about nymphs is… they're hedonists by nature: anything that tastes good, feels good, sounds good—whatever—is something they want." He chuckled low. "Massages feel nice, do they not? Which is exactly why they just love them, especially after a long, hard day at work. And, as I replied to my last fanmail, I just love nymphs, so it really all works out."
Jack scanned the tablet again quickly. "Stories and experiences? My, we're getting very specific with our inquiries, aren't we? But I've never refused a fan's question, and I don't intend on starting now. Well, I daresay I'm so good at giving massages because I've done it for quite some time now, but a specific story to share with you…"
Jack snapped his fingers. "I've just the one: Bridgette and I attended college together—yes, sprites go to college, too—and, well… she was a nerd. Always at the library studying, that sort of thing. Well, I remember her then-boyfriend would give her shoulder massages to help her deal with all the stress. One day, he was running late and, quite frankly, back then she was more attractive than she is now in her old age, and I quietly walked up behind her and gave her shoulders a massage. She didn't turn around to see I wasn't her boyfriend, so she just went along with it. I actually," he laughed sharply here, "I actually got pretty far down her back, too, before he showed up and blew my cover. She was soooo angry after that!" He slapped his knee and howled with laughter. As his laughs subsided, he admitted with an amused sigh, "Yeah. Yeah, he definitely dumped her after that. Serves her right, too, allowing another sprite to do that." He feigned tsks, and his gaze gained a faraway look.
"And the most recent one was Clara…" He licked his lower lip as his eyes darkened. "Even at my age, I still have it." Jack chuckled and informed his fans, "That nymph's completely head-over-heels for me, you know. Me, 'Old Man Winter,' which she definitely only said to make it seem as if she didn't like me." Jack smirked at his declaration. He chuckled once and said, "They all fall for Jack Frost in the end."
A light knock sounded at the door, and he immediately jumped up. Quickly placing the ice tablet on the kitchen counter, he said, "That must be her now. Gotta go; until next time!"
Publish Date: Saturday, September 18, 2010.
Why it Snows in Spring
Chapter Four: But Thus His Simple Truth Must Be Abused By Silken, Sly, Insinuating Jacks?
"Clara!" Jack exclaimed dramatically as he opened the door to find the spring nymph on his doormat, covered in the snow that fluttered from the sky. "I've been expecting you." He lightly grasped her hand and dropped a kiss on it. Pulling her gently to him, he began guiding her into his suite. "Welcome to my humble abode. Are there any refreshments I can fetch you before we get started?"
"No, Jack… Wait." Clarabella wouldn't budge beyond the threshold.
Jack cocked his head at his thwarted charm. "Clara…?"
Clarabella bowed her face—which Jack now realized was flushed in what seemed to be embarrassment.
Jack stepped up to her, gently resting chilly fingertips on her arm and lightly beneath her chin.
"What is it?"
Raising her deep, gloomy turquoise eyes up to meet his, she whispered shakily, "We can't… meet anymore…" She swallowed and wiped her nose.
"It's Mother Nature."
.x:X:x.
"Just a rain drop!" Clarabella chirped as she pushed a strand of hair fluttering in her personal spring breeze behind her ear. Smoothing out her dress, she skipped quickly to the door of her suite, pulling it open.
"Mother Nature." Clarabella's normally soprano-range voice sobered instantly with one look from the stern spirit. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Clarabella." Mother Nature spoke gravely, stepping into the suite, and towering over the nymph's diminutive figure. Mother Nature was a tall spirit to begin with, but she seemed to loom even higher above the blonde now. Clarabella stepped back nervously.
"I specifically told the four of you not to meet—that you can only see the sprite of the season opposite yours. I've heard from the elves that you've been conversing with Jack Frost." Her voice contained the low rumbling of oncoming thunder. Normally earth-brown eyes became ominous gray depths with lightning flickering cautiously.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Mother Nature took a step closer to the nymph.
Clarabella stared fearfully up into the eyes of her superior while her mind teemed with objections. One thing was for sure: she was not going to be using her looks to get out of this one.
Finally finding her voice after a long moment, she cleared her throat and replied timidly, "A-Actually… with all due respect, you said we couldn't be alone with sprites heralding seasons preceding or following ours."
"Either way, you have been alone with Jack—I found out from the Elfsburg Spa that the elf masseuse was not in the room with you and Jack the entire time yesterday." Another step. The lightning in her eyes flickered brightly.
Finding her courage, Clarabella held her ground. "Hope left us alone together, yes. But she left us. We did not plan to be left alone. You must give us that, at least."
Mother Nature's fingers twitched once. Although what the nymph said was bold, her voice was calm and even, no hint of malice or sass.
"Besides, I'm not even in on the whole seasonal boundary struggle—how can I be when I'm just managing my powers as it is?"
"I know you're not in on the struggle." Mother Nature's voice suddenly calmed to a light rain that followed a storm. "But I have a feeling Jack is. A very big mountain-sized feeling." She added with a roll of her eyes.
"Why does everyone think he's in on it?" Clarabella, sensing this shift in conversation, cautiously stepped forward. "He seems… really nice."
Mother Nature fixed the blonde with a firm stare. "He always seems that way… at first. He's only nice to those he wants things from, though. Besides, he's been eying Santa's position for this side of forever—it would make sense that he would want to take more control over others' seasons. He's always harping about his power and how much more responsibility he should have—this would be the perfect opportunity for a demonstration.
"Now that I mention it…" Mother Nature planted her hands on her hips in thought. "There were… floods in Alaska, of all places last night. And… And there were avalanches in the Alps. And it was pretty warm out last night… for winter, at least…" She shook her head to bring her back to the present. "But, that's for me to think about another time…
"Anyway, I know you can't be in on it because…" Mother Nature calmed further and drew in a deep breath. "I was initially hoping to save this until you all got married, but… You each have one of these." She withdrew from her dress a ring made from a pearl marbled with blue veins.
"This is Jack's. Each one is the key to its corresponding globe. When the key is placed into its globe, it can be activated to change the weather. I still want you all to go out into the world to do your jobs, but… for smaller things, I feel this is more convenient, especially if a sprite cannot, for whatever the reason, make it to work that day.
"I was going to give them to the four of you on your wedding days, but… yours has been stolen."
Clarabella's eyes widened. "Stolen? By who?"
Mother Nature's hands spread out wide. "I wish I knew for sure. I've sent Bernard—Santa's number one elf—out to search for it and ask around, but… I, of course, have a theory as to who stole it…"
Jack.
The unspoken name hung between them for a tense minute before Mother Nature continued quietly, a rumble of thunder in her voice once more, "So I need you to be careful, Clarabella. Stay away from Jack. Stay close to Doyle; he is the only one I can be sure is safe for you to be around. Do this for me?"
Clarabella looked away from the sprite before her, rubbing her arm lightly. "Yeah… so… that's what happened."
Jack immediately mustered a hurt front. "You… You don't believe what Mother Nature said, do you?"
Without looking up at him, she shrugged her shoulders and looked down. She didn't want to speak poorly about her boss, especially so soon after her employment.
Jack's jaw set before he stepped closer to the nymph and tilted her chin up. "Come on, Clara, you don't actually believe that I'm capable of something like that, do you?"
Turquoise eyes met blue, and her fears instantly melted away. "No. No, I don't." She smiled lightly. Her hand rested on his bicep and squeezed gently. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Jack."
"No trouble at all. I would believe whatever Mother Nature said, too, if I had just been elected to a seat on the Council." Grasping her hand, he lightly pulled. "Well? We have some magic to work, have we not?"
Still, Clarabella hesitated. Jack watched as her lip worried between her teeth and knew he could win her internal debate. "But… But she said we shouldn't meet anymore…"
"Hey, she doesn't have to know. It'll be our little secret." He tapped her nose once and declared more firmly, "Besides, who can say we're doing anything wrong? We're going to be practicing seasonal magic together—how is that bad?"
Clarabella's plump lip fell slowly from between her teeth, and Jack unveiled a devastating grin. "What do you say, Clara?"
The nymph gazed up at him for a long moment before a smile blossomed deliberately on her features. "Okay, Jack. You're right; we're just practicing magic… which is, if you think about it, helping us do our jobs."
"That's the spirit, Clara!" Jack encouraged, standing aside and allowing her into his suite.
He shut the door and followed her inside. "Please, make yourself at home!" He helped her pull her green jacket down her arms to hang on the coat rack.
When he returned, he allowed himself an appreciative gaze up the back of the spring nymph as she bent to read the ice tablet on his kitchen counter. The skirt on this dress bushed against her knees, not along the floor like usual, and it only trailed upwards as she leaned onto the counter. One corner of his lip turned up as the lightly-tanned flesh of her thighs were revealed to him inch by tantalizing inch.
And to think that would all be his once she became his Mrs. Claus.
His eyes rose around the green-and-pink clad curve of her hips, which quickly narrowed to her minute waist, emphasized by the ribbon tied tightly around her, and finally up to the skin of the very shoulders he had massaged only the day before.
He blinked once and tried to register what he saw there.
Well, this nymph was certainly full of surprises!
There, perching subtly on her left shoulder, sat a pink butterfly tattoo.
That certainly had not been there yesterday.
"What's this?" He asked, delighting in the shiver he elicited from her as he brushed a finger down the inked wings. The wings magically fluttered at his touch.
Regaining her composure, and trying to concentrate on her turquoise hair brightening to pink instead of orange, Clarabella replied, "Oh, that's my tattoo. One of four, actually."
"I didn't see any of them yesterday… And I definitely saw plenty of you," Jack teased the nymph, who blushed prettily in response.
"Yes, well… they have a tendency to wander. One day they're all in the same place, the next they're scattered throughout my body. Let's see." Clarabella craned her neck to see the pink butterfly. "That's the one for May." She pointed to a rainy blue one on her left wrist. "This one's for April." Her neck curved in front of him and, in the place where her neck joined her shoulder sat a sunny yellow butterfly. "And June." Her nose scrunched adorably in jest as she finished, "I have a green one for March, but I'll leave it to your imagination where that one is."
She giggled at him, teasing him. He loved nymphs. But he'd be sure to make her aware who she was teasing. "Well, I'd love to get acquainted with the March butterfly sometime."
He chuckled at his jest, watching her façade melt into one more curious, as if she didn't quite know how to proceed.
"How clever—the spring months, yes?"
Clarabella's playful features returned, and she grinned and bobbed her head. "Yes. One for every month I am in power."
Her hand danced behind her on the counter and brushed along the icy tablet. "Oh! I was looking at this before—I hope you don't mind." She turned toward it and asked him, "You get fanmail?"
"Of course, of course. Who doesn't know about me?" Jack crossed the kitchen to pour two mugs of cocoa.
"Well, I don't think very many humans know about us nowadays with their meteorologists explaining the seasons and weather in such scientific terms." Clarabella pulled a face and stuck out her tongue as if she had tasted something foul.
"So… magic… Let's see what you've got, Miss Bloom." Jack changed the subject all-too-cheerfully, carrying the two mugs of cocoa and nodding at the corridor. The realization of the steep decline in his popularity within the last couple centuries was bad enough without the nymph discussing it.
He led her down the hallway, and Clarabella noted appreciatively that Jack actually kept his suite quite tidy. It was, quite frankly, the best bachelor pad she'd seen.
"You keep a very impressive suite, Jack," she complimented as he stood to one side of the door and waited for her to enter.
"Why, thank you for noticing!" Jack replied happily. He followed her into his workroom and shut the door. "I admit, I have quite a luxurious taste when it comes to my choices of of homes and furnishing, but—and I don't mean to brag—I have earned quite a fortune in my lifetime to sustain my preferences threefold."
Clarabella wandered through the room and stopped at the half-open door to Jack's bedroom. Like the rest of his suite, it had been elaborately furnished in various shades of blue and white, with crystal-like furniture. She briefly wondered if he lavishly decorated his suite to make himself look more powerful… sort of like what Mother Nature said before…
She shook her head quickly to snap back from her thoughts. "I was actually talking about how clean and neat you keep it. Most single sprites would keep homes that have laundry accumulating in all corners, dishes piling up, and filled garbage bags from floor to ceiling…"
He chuckled and walked to the other side of the desk in the middle of the room, setting her mug down and lifting his to his lips. "No, no; not for me. I went through a rather nasty faze of your aforementioned symptoms of bachelordom when I was fresh out of college, but I quickly learned how stifling it was to feel practically trapped by out-of-control chores that just kept piling up. Finally, I put a stop to it and haven't looked back since." A pull from his mug. "I quite like keeping control of my surroundings. Besides, I've found I really can't work if I am distracted by such things, although…" His gaze turned almost feral as it locked on her. "I'm finding my latest distraction to be quite… inspiring."
How could the stare of the winter sprite be so… smoldering? Clarabella felt her face heat up as she blushed again.
Jack didn't subject her to his stare for long, however, as he waved an arm over two ceramic pots packed with soil. "Well? Show me what you've got."
Clarabella took just a sip of the minty cocoaccino Jack had made for her before setting the mug down and proceeding to position her hands over the potted dirt. She shut her eyes and breathed slowly while lowering her hands, fingers sinking into the soft soil.
Although it could be quite messy, the feel of dirt made Clarabella feel at home, in a way. The way it nestled around her knuckles and drew power from her fingertips comforted her knowing she was about to breathe life into a new creation.
Clarabella's eyebrows furrowed, creasing in the middle. She forced warm pulses of energy—magic—down her arms, out the ends of her fingertips and through the soil.
She could feel when it happened—a little spark jolted her hands as the seedlings were conceived within the pots. Rapidly, the seedlings burst from the soil, darkening in color as they stretched up, up, up. Buds sprouted, then leaves, and then finally pink blossoms exploded, smiling up at the sprites.
"Perfect!" Clarabella boasted with an unabashed smile.
"Well, we'll have to see about that," Jack claimed with a smile, donning white fabric gloves.
Pulling a chair up to the desk, he stated, "I can't freeze your flowers through the gloves."
That explained how he was able to transport the narcissus flower to her yesterday, Clarabella realized suddenly, because it had covered with a plastic sleeve.
"Alright," he rasped to himself as he dug through a drawer of the desk with one hand. "Let's see what we've got here." He pulled out a small, crystalline device that reminded Clarabella of a jeweler's scope.
"I promise I'll be gentle with your hard work, Clara." Jack gently held the blossom of one plant open while he held the scope to his eye and examined it, twisting a knob to focus it. He repeated the action with the other flower, rubbing the tender petals.
"Well, you're right about one thing; they're both absolutely perfect—and exactly the same."
Clarabella grinned in triumph. "See? I told you!"
Jack sighed. "Uh… Clara…" He put the scope away. "I think we need to have a little chat. Nature, by definition, is not supposed to be 'perfect.'" He made air quotes. "That's part of its beauty, part of what makes it so inspiring to humans—they enjoy the diversity, complexity, and intricacy of all the components that make it what it is. Nature is so beautiful for its imperfections."
"But… but it's beautiful because it's perfect! With imperfections come ugliness, and with ugliness comes humiliation—I-I mean…" Her thick eyelashes quivered in rapid succession. "Uh… criticism. Yes, criticism."
Jack's eyebrows furrowed at her verbal blunder, but he didn't remark on it. "I'll let you in on a little something." He leaned forward in his chair and said in an intimately low voice, "For every million snowflakes I create, can you guess how many of them are perfect?"
Clarabella twirled a strand of hair in thought. "Uh… One-million?"
Jack shook his blue head. "One."
Clarabella's eyes widened. "Really? Why?"
"Well, I used to make them all perfect." Jack laced his fingers as he leaned forward onto the desk. "But I realized that humans didn't appreciate them because they expected all the snowflakes to be perfect all the time. So, I decided to make one perfect snowflake out of a million so that when a human does see a perfect snowflake, they take time to appreciate my hard work for what it really is." Jack smirked, but then sobered and held her gaze firmly. "I suggest you do the same."
He gently set the two potted plants on the ground in full view of the sun streaming in from the windows, and put two more pots of dirt on the desk.
"Now," he began slowly, pulling off his gloves finger by finger, "try again. Only this time," he stepped behind her and was just tall enough to hook his chin over her shoulder to look down into the pots, "focus on making your magic flow in uneven patterns."
He gathered her wrists in his hands and lightly dropped her hands into the soil. Clarabella felt his surprisingly firm torso press up against her back. "Like this." He placed his right hand on her shoulder and trickled his fingertips smoothly down her arm. The palm of his left hand trailed slow, lazy circles down her other arm.
Clarabella could feel her magic tingle and ebb to the different patterns Jack had created down her limbs. His cold flesh made goosebumps ripple along her arms. Her eyes shut for a brief moment as she inhaled his scent—the deep, subtle aroma of a silent snowy day mixed with the cocoaccino on his breath. She could feel her hair prickle as it began lightening from pink to a bright citrus orange at his close proximity…
"See? This helps with making even two plants of the same species look different." His eyes caught hers in the mirror opposite them, and he gave her a grin. "Now, in order to create imperfections, just feel your magic leaving you in random bursts."
His chin rested right against her pulse point, and she was certain he could feel her heart beat to the irregular tempo of her magic.
When he could feel she'd worked up a good enough rhythm and flow to her magic, he gently guided her hands down into the dirt.
As soon as her fingertips dug deeper, Clarabella gasped; two seedlings burst from the soil and began growing. Jack soon had the result he'd been working the nymph up to: one plant was shorter with multiple sapphire blooms, the other was taller and more narrow with one blue flower. The smaller plant's flowers had a couple petals missing, while the tall one had a bend in its stem.
They were both the same species.
Jack smirked in triumph as he felt her body twitch pleasantly with the aftershock of this new magic-expending technique. The nymph slumped heavily onto the desk and panted. She'd have to get used to this if she was going to start using this method of flower-creating!
"Alright there, Clara?" He asked, rubbing the small of her back and pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. He noticed while doing so that the innermost layer of her hair had turned an unmistakable orange.
Jack's face froze with arrogance, only his eyes moved to meet hers in their reflection. Clarabella looked up from her hunched position, and she instantly understood his features.
"Tell me, Clara—what, exactly, does orange mean?"
Straightening up, but not turning to meet his gaze, Clarabella replied shakily, "U-Uh… happiness. I'm happy that I got this right."
"But you said that pink was happiness," Jack countered.
"… Excitement?"
"Green." She could practically hear his smirk.
"I…" She turned slowly to face him. "I, uh… don't know. I only really started turning orange yesterday." Clarabella didn't like the feeling of being caught off guard. Without being able to bat her eyelashes and tease her way out of this increasingly-sticky situation, the nymph felt defenseless against the charming and clever sprite.
"Hmm…" Jack placed a fist beneath his chin as he mimed thinking hard, "I wonder what only I—Old Man Winter—can make you feel that you would turn orange at?"
Finally, at being pushed this hard, Clarabella regained her composure. With a flirtatious grin, she batted her eyelashes. "I don't know. But we'll have to find out another time—I'm exhausted from that! It was like a magic workout!" She hugged him quickly as she thanked him, but when she moved to leave, he stopped her briefly.
"If you'd like to take a nap, my guest room is open to you, Clara."
Clarabella shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks—I don't want Mother Nature catching us." He escorted her through his suite and helped her with her jacket. Her nimble fingers shook lightly and had trouble buttoning up the front, but she completed the task after a minute.
"Thanks again, Jack. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, Clara, the pleasure was all mine." He kissed the very tip of her knuckle before she left.
It most certainly was.
Author's Note: Questions to the Readers: What does everyone think? How does everyone feel about this turn of events? And what about Mother Nature's allegations against Jack? What do you think of the pearl rings?
Trivia Question: This is a tricky one: What Shakespearean play are all the quotes that make up the chapter titles from? (Hint: I've never expressed the name in the fanfiction.)
I would just like to remind everyone that questions to the characters are still being accepted!
I look forward to everyone's reviews, as always. Until next time!