A/N: Oh my gosh, have I told you guys how awesome you all are recently? You all are THE BEST. Seriously, you have no idea how awesome you all are. 'Kay, just thought you should know. Thanks to all of my new favoriters/followers, and cake to my reviewers: AtomicFacePalm666, Starcrier, Tragically Humorous, Shire (are you a LOTR fan as well, by any chance?), Moonpie, maegirl, Random Reader, and OhMeOhMy. Those were some of the most well thought-out reviews I've received for a while, and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Thank you all so, so much. Read and enjoy!

The falling sensation stopped, though I could still feel the pull of gravity acting on me, and I kept my arms locked tightly around Pitch. Peeking through my lashes, I realized Pitch had used one of his abyssal shadows to bring us to, of all places, my guardrail. Only problem was, we had reappeared with him firmly on the walkway on the safe side of the rail, whereas I had only my toes lodged in the inner railing of it on the river's side, the only things keeping me from falling being my hold on him and his arm around my waist.

"Easy there, Wisp!" he laughed, pulling me close so that my knees dug into the metal of the rail. "You almost fell."

I glared at him, trying to ignore how my heartbeat picked up upon hearing the sound of the river rushing far, far below. "I wasn't supposed to fall; you were!"

Pitch grinned down at me, yellow-gray eyes thoroughly amused. "Hmm, and yet you're the one who took a tumble."

I stared at him, bewildered. "You are unbelievable!"

"Why, thank you." He paused, looking at me expectantly. "So, which way will it be?"

I scowled, unsure of his meaning, and eyed him skeptically. "What do you mean, 'which way'?"

"Which way will you fall?" He repeated slowly, deliberately. His arm loosened around me to make his point, and I let out a gasp, tightening my hold on him. "Choose."

"You are freaking insane!" I snarled, our faces inches apart. "How sick can you be? Seriously! Is this just some game to you; toying with people until you get the fun reaction you want, no matter how it affects them?"

His eyes flared more yellow than gray, sparking with something akin to frustration. "Choose." He snapped again.

My eyes widened with a realization, fingers loosening their hold on the collar of his coat. "This isn't about the river at all, is it? This is about you being jealous!"

"That, my dear, is where you're wrong." Pitch growled, his hand locking onto my waist, fingers digging into me. Suddenly the river was very, very loud, rushing along with the sound of my blood in my ears, and his fear easily embedded itself in my heart, leeching its poison in me. "Because in order to be jealous, I would have to actually care. Now, which way will you fall?"

My chest shuddered with every erratic breath I took, my efforts at controlling my temper visible by the flames erupting here and there along my neck and arms, the flickering of my light in general. The wind was as irregular as my heartbeat as it lashed at us. I reached down, grabbing Pitch's wrist with my burning hand to make him let go, hearing him hiss with pain. Shooting him one last, disdainful glare, I turned on my heel and hopped off into the empty air.

I swallowed hard once the realization of what I'd just done sank in with the view of the fast approaching river, Pitch's fear flowing freely through me. My heart felt like it was about to explode free from the vice-tight confines of my chest. The air wouldn't catch me this time; I was too panicked to even attempt flight. My eyes focused on the sharp rocks and debris that poked through the rapid surface of the river, and my head pulsed with each throb of my heart. With extreme effort, I pulled my splayed limbs in tight, rapping my arms around my legs and squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I could.

The water was freezing, but that wasn't the worst part. It HURT. It hurt so, so bad, extinguishing my flames and eliciting a choking, underwater cry from my throat. The bracken water took the chance to fill my mouth and nose, continuing on to invade my lungs as I writhed. The current dragged me along the bottom of the river, scraping me against rocks, felled trees and submerged rubbish.

And then it was gone, all gone. I was kneeling on a hard, unforgiving surface, my wet and heavy hair hanging in my face and wrapped around my neck like it was trying to strangle me for being so stupid. I choked and sputtered as someone pounded viciously on my back, coughing the water back up from my lungs. The back of my throat and my sinuses felt raw, and it seemed like I'd never really stop spitting out the water. The whacking lessened into gentle, soothing circles being rubbed along my spine as I calmed down. I scrubbed at my eyes, rubbing at the silt and grit clinging to my eyelashes as I sputtered and sneezed. My mouth tasted like dirt, rotted foliage and fish, and my teeth chattered noisily.

Weight settled around my shoulders, fabric as soft as the surrounding night brushing against my arms and neck, and a pair of strong arms pulled me flush against a chest as solid as the stone below. "Stupid, stubborn girl!" A familiar voice snarled in my ear as hands chafed the fabric against my arms. "Why would you do that? Why would you jump?"

"P-P-P-P-Pitch," I tried as he held me close.

His arms constricted tighter around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Don't try to talk!" He lifted one of my hands out of the confines of the weight—his coat—and analyzed it. I was shocked by how dead it looked, giving off only the occasional weak flicker of light; I'd become so accustomed to the warm light I usually gave off that I'd forgotten how dull normal flesh looked.

While he did that, I looked around blearily. We were in his lair, next to the glowing globe sculpture with all of its tiny lights. I slowly looked down, mindful of my aching neck, at the coat that was wrapped around me like a blanket. Pitch was always wearing this damn thing; what did he look like when it was off?

Pitch muttered a curse under his breath, making me smirk, and summoned one of his awful horses. "Go get that damned Trickster!" he ordered, and with a terror-stricken whinny the mare did just that, bolting for one of the darkest shadows nearby and disappearing.

My head felt too heavy for my neck, so I rested it against his shoulder, shivering hard. I looked up, meeting his dusk-colored eyes with mine, and was surprised by how remorseful they looked. He pressed my hand to his chest so I could feel the racing heartbeat there, my eyes widening in surprise.

He let his eyes drift closed, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. "Silly girl; I'm supposed to scare you, not the other way around."

"P-Pitch," I tried again, clenching my fingers in the fine material of the shirt he wore.

"Please," he whispered, not opening his eyes, "just for a while, just…don't."

I nodded, letting my eyes close to rest for a while, feeling Pitch's heart rate slowly calm beneath my fingertips.

"You know, it's funny." Pitch mumbled, startling me out of the almost sleep-like state I'd entered. "I can't really tell what your worst fear is right now. It seems to be a toss-up of one of three things: me caring, me not caring, and…." He trailed off, opening his eyes to look at my hand again.

I opened my mouth to say "And…?", but closed it before the sound could come out, shutting it with a soft click as my teeth met.

"I'm so sorry, Wisp." He said, so softly I wasn't really sure that I'd heard it, pressing the back of my hand to his lips. I noticed, vaguely, that I wasn't even flickering anymore.

"My god, what's happened?!" Trick's horrified voice shocked me from my sleep, and I turned my head groggily toward the sound. Trick's eyes were practically spewing fire as he ran towards where we were, Lasarina on his tail. I smiled softly, seeing her with him. "What happened to her?"

My voice was horribly raspy, grating on my own nerves as I held up a hand to keep Pitch silent. "I fell in the river. Pitch fished me out." I croaked, not really able to focus.

Trick dropped to his knees opposite Pitch, clasping my free hand in both of his as the fierce inferno trying to burst free of him calmed down. "Oh, leannán, of all the things for you to do," Trick's voice was strangely hoarse.

"You're the closest to being like her that I could think of." Pitch interjected, looking stressed. "She stopped flickering about ten minutes ago."

It was Trick's turn to curse, and his face set in a look of pure determination. "Alright. Pitch, you'll need to leave for a while; go somewhere dark and deep. I'll come get you when it's done."

"When what's done?" Pitch demanded with a suspicious glare.

A muscle ticked in Trick's jaw. "Wisp is made of fire, Pitch. She's going out. I trust you know what happens when a fire goes out?" Trick didn't give Pitch time to respond. "I'll have to reignite her, and that's bound to cause a hell of a lot of light. Light is bad for you, yeah? Ergo, you need to leave. Now."

A hysterical part of my mind laughed raucously. To try and vex Pitch, I had essentially committed suicide. Lovely. And now I was 'going out'. Well, I could never think of that expression the same ever again.

Pitch turned my face towards him, cupping my face in both of his hands as he dove in, kissing me soundly. He pulled away, leaving me stunned, and dissipated into the shadows, taking his coat with him.

I blinked at Trick and Lasarina as they closed in around me, the tinier fire spirit taking the Boogeyman's place. "What's going to happen?" I asked Trick as he pulled me close, situating me so I was leaning against one of his shoulders.

Trick's jaw tightened as he unlatched one of the sides of his lantern; I was too out of it to recognize which side. "Nothing's going to happen, leannán; you're going to be fine, you hear me? You're going to be perfectly fine, just like you were this morning. You're going to be joking around real soon, don't you fret."

"Trick?"

He stopped his fussing, giving me his full attention. "Yes, leannán?"

"What is it that you keep calling me?"

Trick turned back to the lantern. "I call you lots of things, lass. You'll have to be more specific."

I put one hand on top of his where it rested on the open lantern. "Leannán. What does leannán mean?"

"'Sweetheart'." He said definitively, turning his burning gaze on mine. "It means 'sweetheart'."

"Oh," I said quietly.

"Enough gabbing. Lasarina, make sure that lantern doesn't close 'til I say so. Sorry, this might hurt a bit." He apologized, making me nervous. One hand keeping me upright, Trick jabbed his other hand directly into the open lantern, a greedy roar letting me know that the flames were probably giving him new marks. Before I could ask any more questions, Trick slanted his mouth across mine, and I gasped as I felt his fire pour into me through the contact, closing my eyes against the brightness. The flames licked along my veins, igniting every cell in my body and electrifying me like lightning. Warmth developed in my chest, whirling and growing until I felt like a miniature sun

The heat and energy continued to build and build, and for a moment I was terrified I would burn out like a short-circuited fuse. The excess energy pulled back tight inside me, making sure I had just enough, before returning to Trick, leaving me feeling rejuvenated like I'd just woken from a long and pleasant nap. I opened my eyes to see Pitch's usually dim and gloomy lair lit up like the middle of a clear summer's day, and I realized Trick hadn't been exaggerating; if Pitch had still been in here during the transfer, he probably would've been roasted.

Gradually our surroundings dimmed to almost Pitch's standard, and Trick broke our kiss, breathing raggedly like he'd finished a particularly grueling marathon. Slumping, he rested his brilliant head on my shoulder, his eyes less blazing and more…smoldering.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, hesitantly smoothing his hair back from his eyes to try to get a better look. "You look wiped out."

"Please, 'Rina…lantern." He panted, his eyes closing to slits with exhaustion as he tugged his hand free of the fire. Lasarina did as she was bid, sliding the lantern's doors closed and locking them securely.

Trick collapsed the rest of the way onto me, out cold, making me yell in surprise. "Crap, Trick? Trick, what's the matter?!" Did he give me too much?! I looked down at my arms, surprised to see that I was back to my normal, happy glow.

"Take me back to my Hollow…I'll be grand." He muttered sleepily, winding his arms around my waist securely.

I looked to Lasarina, confused. "Do you know how to get there?"

She nodded, looking pleased that she could help in some way. "Sure. Watch this." With a bit of effort, she took the lantern a few feet away from where I struggled with Trick's extra bulk and got it spinning. She kept spinning it, faster and faster, until eventually it formed a flaming vortex, stirring up a hot, buffeting wind that whipped my hair around like a hurricane.

"That'll do." I pulled one of Trick's large arms across my shoulders, towing him towards the apparent portal. "So, we just step in?"

Lasarina nodded, encouraging me on, and came up on Trick's other side to try to help balance him out while also managing the weight of the lantern. Stepping in was like getting almost unbearably close to a bonfire, but Lasarina and I managed to pull him through to the other side. The portal imploded with a barely audible pop as I checked out my new surroundings. Everything was very, very green, a green so rich and vibrant it hurt the eyes. It was like a small, enclosed grove entirely closed in by trees that curved up and over to make a natural vaulted ceiling. Dotting the grove were ancient stone braziers full of either merrily crackling treat-fire or spitting trick-fire, the colors flickering and causing the shadows around the forested area to dance. Off to the side was a cavern-like area, which I took to be Trick's chambers.

My guess was correct; inside the stone enclosure were more of the old braziers with their opposing flames, as well as an ancient wardrobe full to bursting with costume pieces and other articles of clothing. Next to that were several bookshelves, the top of which were coated with centuries' worth of melted candle wax, their descendents burning atop their remains warmly. Opposite that was a low stone bed piled high with mattresses dressed in silk and down comforters. It looked way too comfy for something found in a forest, but I wasn't really one to judge, I guessed.

I eased him down onto the bed, the arm he still had wrapped around my waist causing me to go down with him. "Trick, you're home. You can let me go now." I told him, trying to unclench his fingers from the ruined fabric of my skirt. Looked like Emmy would get to see Tooth after all, unless Jenna was willing to give me some of my clothes back (not likely to happen); this dress was toast. "Seriously, Trick—I'm all gross from the river, and I'm exhausted."

"So stay here." He mumbled, wrapping both arms around me to keep my back secure against his chest when I thought I was free. His chin rested on top of my head.

I raised an eyebrow, though I knew he couldn't see it. "You're totally fine, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." He argued, releasing one arm from around me to pull the covers up around us, shoes and all. "For one thing, my bed is cold."

I tried really hard not to think of that as him trying to flirt. "You're made of fire too. I'm sure you'll heat it up in no time. Now, if you'll just let me up…."

"Stay." He sighed sleepily in my ear. "Please."

"Trick,"

"Leannán," I could hear the smile in his voice. I sighed, feeling like I was losing the battle. "Isn't this bed comfortable enough for you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, your bed is very nice. I could easily pull a Rip Van Winkle in it."

He chuckled, resting his cheek on my hair. "I want twenty minutes, not twenty years…unless you're offering, of course."

I shook my head, laughing. "You are absolutely incorrigible, you know that?"

"I'm not incorrigible, I'm persistent." He corrected primly, making me snicker. "I've been told that it pays off. Is it working on you?"

I made a noncommittal sound in the back of my throat, feeling the stress of the day's events leech away with every passing moment spent in this ridiculously comfortable bed. Every CEO in the world needed a bed like this. And world leader. And single mother. For argument's sake, let's just say every freaking person needed a bed like this.

"Take it as a 'yes'." Trick chuckled before giving a happy sigh of contentment.

A/N: Chapter 13's done, AND it's early! I feel accomplished! Please, review! It makes me insanely happy!