Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any of the ideas or characters that are involved with the Santa Clause trilogy. The only things I can claim are mine are my OCs Crys and Rachelle.

A/N: So, I know you guys are anxious to see what happens with Crys and Rachelle (and it might end badly) so we're just going to dive right into it. Of course, this chapter probably wouldn't be here without the wonderful reviews I've received. [=

Chapter 10: The Wrath of Crys

It was like a brutal wind had swept through the entire building. Hushed words spread throughout the main hall, a warning that Crys was upset. Everyone knew how horrible things could turn out if Crys was upset, especially after the great deal of stress that she had been feeling for the past couple weeks or so. The small children huddled together in groups, anticipating the confrontation that was coming. Some even debated whether to inform Scott about the matter, just in case the situation got out of control.

Crys's boots slapped fiercely against the ground as she briskly strode out of her room, having as much possibility of being stopped as a freight train. Even Jack could do nothing to make her halt for a split second; he simply trailed behind her with a devilish look in his icy eyes. Having just a little mischief in him, he was no doubt interested in the outcome of her anger.

As Crys practically skipped over the stairs entirely—taking two or three at a time—every person in her way immediately scrunched up against the wall, as if they were afraid of what might happen if they prevented her from reaching Rachelle. A deep, unsettling frown was on her face and if her looks could kill, they would have right then. Where is she? I'm going to kill her!

Rachelle was leaning against one of the working stations that belonged to a small girl. The little girl—Jill as Crys knew her—appeared smaller than her already tiny form. Her baby doll blue eyes were wide with fright and her golden curls bounced around as she shivered. Rachelle looked troubled by something, for her sake, Crys hoped it was her conscience. Otherwise, she seemed just as serene and hard to decipher as always. When she saw Crys approaching, her eyes stretched a mile and they roamed the room, searching for a quick escape.

"Oh, Crys…what are you—" Rachelle didn't even have time to finish her question. Crys marched straight over to Rachelle, brought a hand up and—as fast as lightning—slapped the girl across the face. The sharp sound reverberated off the walls and each child gasped and winced; the sound had been so harsh, they could almost feel it on their own rosy cheeks. A fresh white imprint of Crys's hand outlined Rachelle's face as her head twisted painfully to the right.

"That's for trying to mess up my wedding! How dare you do this to me when you know how happy I am now, for the first time since David!" Crys deliberately prolonged each word, dripping with contempt. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously and as threatening as daggers. Furiously, she clenched and unclenched her fist as though ready to strike Rachelle again.

"Crys, I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me! Don't you dare," Crys screeched, the quality of her voice competing with the sound of that slap. Rachelle didn't seem to notice at all; she was too focused with rubbing her swollen cheek gently and waiting for Crys's next move. "I swear, if you do anything to ruin my wedding, I'll…I'll…"

"You'll do what? Slap me again?" Rachelle's blue eyes narrowed, matching Crys's stare and confidently challenging her. She had already been made the center of this show with that menacing slap, she might as well run with it. Crys tried to take a step closer to Rachelle, but Jack held out an arm to barricade her. Rachelle wondered if he was just preventing Crys from slapping her again or protecting her from Crys's wrath.

"Why'd you do it? Why are you trying to ruin this for me? For God's sake, I can barely fit into my dress because of you," Crys muttered in a broken voice. Tears flowed behind her eyelids, almost ready to fall down her face. Jack avoided Rachelle's eyes and stroked Crys's red hair comfortingly. Rachelle figured Crys didn't need the whole truth; not yet anyway.

"It was just for fun, that's all. You can't blame me for having a bit of a rebellious streak, can you? You do remember David, don't you?" Without meaning to, her words came out bitter and piercing. Crys's eyes filled to the brim with tears and one fell down the side of her face. Her body nearly slumped in distress at the mention of David and in such a cruel way.

"Of course I do! It still hurts, but I doubt that someone like you could feel that way even for your own brother! You're heartless, Rachelle, doing this to me!" Crys finally fell limp in Jack's arms and he cradled her, whispering words of comfort into her ear. Jealousy sparked up in Rachelle and she was almost tempted to do something to draw the two apart then and there. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bernard coming down the stairs, a grave expression written clearly on his face. Oh, boy. Here we go.

"What's going on here?" Bernard glanced from Jack's calm face to Crys crying on the floor and then lastly to Rachelle, who had her arms crossed defiantly and her eyes narrowed like a cat. He sighed and shook his head at her, a knowing smirk present on his face. "Alright, what'd you do this time?"

"And you," Crys suddenly exclaimed, somehow finding a new burst of strength to pick her body off the floor and point an accusing finger towards Bernard. His expression was full of alarm as he stared down at Crys's finger, much in the same way that Rachelle had pointed at him before he took up onto the roof. Now's not the time to think about that. It's finally getting interesting. Who knows? Maybe Crys will slap him, too.

"Certainly I don't have any part in this whatsoever," Bernard was arguing with Crys, his voice shaken. Crys jerked out of Jack's grip and glared at him until he dropped his eyes.

"You're supposed to be her guardian! If you're such a good guardian, how the hell does she manage to make an attempt on ruining my wedding without you noticing it? Or did you know about it?" Crys gazed at Bernard and then at Rachelle, the wheels in her head spinning wildly as she tried to put the pieces together. Rachelle's mouth fell open at Crys's accusation.

"Are you kidding me? The guy doesn't have one troublesome bone in his body! In fact, he's so mature and sticks to the rules so much, he doesn't even know what the word 'fun' means," Rachelle shouted at the top of her lungs. Bernard raised an eyebrow at her and his lips tightened into a firm line. Crys swiveled around to face Rachelle again, her eyes almost red with anger.

"Fun? You think plotting to ruin my wedding is fun? My dress no longer fits properly and you're standing there thinking that's fun? And the cake…was that your fault, too?" Rachelle didn't have to answer for Crys to realize it was her. It was written in her eyes and the small smile that she was fighting—and failing—to hide. Crys raised her hand again, prepared to slap Rachelle again, and let it fall to her side as she thought better of it. "Why?"

"It was a little fun, I swear. Nothing personal," Rachelle insisted, repeating her story from earlier. Crys wasn't buying it. She knew Rachelle too well to know when she was hiding behind a façade. Maybe she couldn't exactly pinpoint what she was lying about, but she knew something was off.

"I refuse to believe that. There's some other reason and I want to know what it is," Crys demanded, her hands now placed on her hips. Jack squirmed next to her, obviously debating whether to put in his two cents.

"I happen to think your friend is a little fond of me. If that helps at all," he said when Crys turned a shocked expression on him. Her mouth quivered as she interpreted this. Rachelle imagined that Crys was thinking back to that first day when Rachelle had met Jack and her sultry expression at that time. That expression had been the behavior of a hunting tiger, refusing to stop until it got what it wanted. Crys glanced at Rachelle, her face pale as if her breathing had stopped.

"You'll never stop, will you? You always have to get what you want. You won't ruin this for me, Rachelle. I won't let you," Crys warned before turning on her heel and running out of the room. Bernard had his eyes closed and his hand was massaging the bridge of his nose; he clearly wished he hadn't been there at all. Jack watched Crys storm out of the room, the air thick with awkward tension.

"Well, that was…fun," he stated, earning a few unhappy looks from everyone around him, including Rachelle. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, he left the room, most likely in search of Crys. Bernard opened his eyes and stared at Rachelle with a pained expression and shook his head miserably at her. One by one, each person dispersed and returned to what they were doing even though excited whispers were still roaming around the room. Bernard's eyes sent a chill into Rachelle's bones and then he too left her behind. Well, it could have been worse, right?

….

Bernard paced around his room, his thoughts refusing to settle in the least. It had to be past midnight now. As if answering him, the grand clock downstairs chimed twelve times, signaling that it was indeed midnight. He barely heard the ringing of the clock; his mind was wound up with thoughts about Rachelle, his guardianship position, and the latest confrontation.

It had been a disaster. More than that, it had been embarrassing to watch even for a few moments. Supposedly, he had missed "the good part", which consisted of Crys landing her hand against Rachelle's face in a cruel slap. He didn't care for trouble, never had. Rachelle was the trouble incarnate, period. Still, she had been on his mind consistently since he had first met her. Oh, how could I be doing this? I can't fall for someone like her! It's completely out of the question.

Out of the question or not, she was never far from his thoughts and it puzzled him. She had done nothing but insult him and shown disgust for him. He had tried to do the same thing, but none of it had worked. He recalled what she had said about him during that unpleasant scene. He could even hear her condescending tone as the words flowed along the inside of his skull.

The guy doesn't have one troublesome bone in his body. In fact, he's so mature and sticks to the rules so much he doesn't even know what the word fun means. That wasn't entirely true. Sure, he despised trouble and was often mature, but someone had to be responsible here, right? The one year he wasn't here, everything had almost fallen to pieces with Jack Frost. Something else was confusing him, though. He had assumed Rachelle would sit back and allow Crys to take out her anger on him. Instead, she had brought Crys's attention away from him by saying those things. Why would she do such a thing? It didn't make sense.

"What am I going to do?" Bernard lowered himself onto the corner of his bed, knowing he was utterly failing this guardianship position. He hadn't even known Rachelle had done those things. What was he supposed to do? There's only one thing I can do, he realized grimly. I'll have to take this guardianship role seriously and watch Rachelle, no matter what. This can't happen again. I won't allow it, he vowed as he switched off the lamp by his bed. Not even five seconds after his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep undisturbed sleep that was filled with images of Rachelle and the constant echoing of her words.

….

Okay, so I know this was kind of a short chapter, but that writer's block is starting to kick in again. Oh, writer's block…how I hate you. Anyway, I hope you guys liked that terrible scene between Crys and Rachelle. Who knows what will happen next? Ahem…I do! The only thing you can do to speed up the next update is to review, review, review! Remember, reviews=love and motivation! (=