Okay, I got myself a bottle of fermented tea to help my brain actually function. (Kombucha, for those who either aren't health nuts or aren't from the Pacific Northwest.) And for some reason I'm writing the author's note first this time rather than adding it last as an afterthought. Because I'm in a strange mood and am just being odd, apparently.

Anyway, sorry for not updating for a bit. Haven't been able to think. Not a hundred percent sure what will happen even now, honestly, since I'm writing this author's note first, but I figured I'd give it a try and see what happens. *chuckles* Here's hoping I can get a good chapter churned out of this somehow. *crosses fingers*

Disclaimer: For some reason, the more my writing ability increases, the more my creative ability with disclaimers decreases. I used to be able to make so many puns with these things, or even spin stories around the Disclaimer. *shrugs* Well, as they say in Fullmetal Alchemist, it's Equivalent Trade, I suppose. I can take that. And I do not own Rise of the Guardians. Or Fullmetal Alchemist, for that matter, though that's not appearing in this story. ;)

It was odd to hear crunching sounds beneath my feet, as I normally didn't walk with my feet this heavy. But I had plans of entering a building, and Susan had made it clear that entering most human buildings without shoes was taboo. Even having my feet shoed and locked away in their little prisons, I would have coped better if I were to fly, but Strange Lady had forbidden that action as well. The only thing I was permitted was the simple act of walking with shoes on. Like a normal human being.

Something about seeing the snow strewn all around me but not interacting with it triggered a responsive reaction in my chest. My heart started to go aflutter with the urge to shed some energy in adding more snow to the top of the layer of white that already blanketed the entire town. I supposed I was allowed to do that if I needed to, as the special necklace Tooth had brought to me would render me invisible while I released my magic, but I didn't think it wise to subject the residents of Burgess to any more snow for at least a few days. This was more than they were used to for this time of year. Despite how ignoring that sensation slightly pained me, I would resist. For now.

Yet there was another bodily pain I had never counted on, particularly since Susan had done such a spectacular job with helping me find shoes that fit. But this somehow didn't stop my feet from complaining to me that they didn't like the pressure I was putting on them. I kicked the toe of each shoe against the ground and then continued walking, sure I would get used to the pain eventually. I was just unused to wearing shoes. The pain would go away in time, right?

My feet didn't agree with me, and before long, I found myself sitting down, most of my lap swallowed up in the snow, and my feet dangling over what was once a curb before it got covered in glittery whiteness. I spent several minutes fighting with my shoes as I did my best to rescue my poor feet. But alas, Susan had taught me how to put my shoes on, but had neglected to teach me how to take them back off. Still, I had figured it out once. I could figure it out again.

The most shameful thing about the whole ordeal was that it took me at least ten or twenty minutes before it even occurred to me to pull at the knot itself, and maybe it would come loose. Which part to pull at was another matter which cost several more minutes, but eventually I discovered that yanking on the tail of the knot made the entire bow fall apart in my hand, which allowed me to easily loosen the shoe and slip it off. My feet breathed a collective sigh in relief.

Another five minutes later, and I was attempting to stand and continue my journey, thinking that all would now be well. But all was not well, and I squatted back down to my shoe-liberating position, uttering pep talks to my poor feet for abusing them yet again. Why were my feet so upset by all of this? Taking off the shoes should have been enough, but they were still complaining. I couldn't remember ever having dealt with such a thing before.

I allowed another five minutes and about two cars to pass me by before I finally decided that there was no way out of this if I kept all the rules. My feet didn't want me to stand on them, and the way I was most used to traveling was by flying. It seemed I didn't have a choice but to use my powers, but no one ever said I couldn't try to do it discreetly.

Instead of standing up again like I had done the last time, I levitated to my feet, allowed myself to stand lightly on the snow without giving them any gravitational pressure, then drifted forward while moving my legs as though I were still walking. I had to admit that even I was impressed at the feat I was pulling. I'd almost forgotten once or twice that I wasn't really walking and had nearly tripped over a boulder and a large block of ice.

I finally made it to the coffee shop where I had last seen Sam and I heaved a huge sigh of relief just before my face fell as I realized my shoes had to go back on. A groan escaped my throat before I could stop it, but I dropped to my knees without further complaint as I wrestled the shoes back on. This may not have been comfortable for me, but it was the only way I knew to find Sam. I just hoped that all my efforts would be rewarded and that he would actually be here.

Satisfied that my shoe-tying results didn't betray me as not being human, I stood back up and marched into the little shop, ignoring the faint protests of my feet. I would be sitting down soon enough anyway.

The moment I was in the coffee shop, the barista did a double take, and I found myself remaining by the door, suddenly unsure of what I should be doing. I only wanted to check for Sam, but I didn't have any money to buy the right to sit down in this place. What if Sam wasn't here? Or even worse, what if he wasn't here yet?

The first person to recover was the barista. He called me over to the counter with a flick of his wrist, a gesture which I hesitantly responded to with my head hanging low like a puppy uncertain of whether he will be reprimanded for misbehavior.

"Am I crazy?" said the barista, startling me out of my trance as I stood up straighter to look at him properly. "Did I actually see what I thought I saw last time you were here?"

A tic formed in the corner of my mouth, evolving into a smirk as I realized what he was hinting at. "That would depend on what you thought you saw."

An awkward minute passed between the two of us as the barista wrestled with the demons in his head that forbade him from speaking his mind, and I simply waited for him to gain victory over said demons so that he could speak. "I-I…"

"Yes?" I leaned forward, my raised eyebrow prompting him to continue.

He turned away, grabbing a large cup and holding it up in my line of vision. "You ordered hot chocolate last time you were in here, right?"

I blinked and slightly shook my head, having not expected that response at all. Realizing that my body language was probably confusing the guy, I nodded and said, "Yes. But I don't have any money. I was just coming to see if Sa-"

"Oh, he'll be here at some point." The guy dismissed my statement with a wave of his hand, then turned to his machines and started working his magic with them, our previous conversation completely forgotten. "He comes every night. I'll just charge him when he gets here." I nodded, unsure if that was allowed in his profession, but I wasn't going to deny him that kind gesture. I just hoped that Sam felt the same way, or I'd be having to find a way to pay the guy back before his shift was out so he wouldn't get in trouble.

A magical moment later, a steaming cup of hot chocolate waited for me on the counter, and I flexed the fingers on my free hand several times, preparing them for the heinous act of touching a hot cup. My eyes scanned the vicinity, looking for the route I should take as soon as I came in contact with this heat so I could avoid holding it even a microsecond longer than I had to.

My eyes alighted on a table to my left. It was more exposed than the one Sam and I had shared last time, but it was closer. As it would save me several microseconds' worth of heat, I considered it the better option.

Perhaps he noticed my hesitation and wanted to buy me some time, or perhaps he was finally gaining a little victory over his vocal demons that had struck him dumb. But before I had willed up enough strength to grab my cup of hot chocolate, he pointed his gaze at me and said, "Who are you?"

Not "What's your name?", but "Who are you?" This guy was good. He was probably more perceptive about the world around him than even he realized, but I wasn't sure how well he would take the truth being served to him all piled high on one dish. Most people had to digest one course at a time in order to avoid insanity.

I blinked, then chuckled, and said, "Jack."

That caused another moment of hesitation in the young man's head as gears attempted to turn and make sense of whatever information he'd managed to glean about me. But after a few moments, it seemed those rusty gears had given up for the time being, and he tried a different tactic as he offered me a small smile. "Mine's Ben. You new in town?"

Of all the difficult to answer questions in the world, that was one of the worst. I didn't like to lie about things if I could avoid it, but telling the truth about that question was going to be a challenge.

I shrugged. "Yes and no. I was raised here, but… I guess you could say I was away for a while and just came back?'

Ben nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief that my explanation hadn't seemed too farfetched. It wasn't far from the reality of things either, should he ever desire to become one of my believers as well. The last thing I needed was for all my potential believers to have to sort through a pack of lies to get at the real me.

"I get that," he said. "I was raised by my grandma, but now I live with my auntie. All of us are born and raised Burgessians, baby!" He raised his fists and pumped them in the air as he swayed back and forth to inaudible music that played only in his mind as it accompanied his motions. I laughed.

He finished with his little dance and leaned against the counter once more, his temporary insanity temporarily forgotten. "So were you born here too, or did you move here?"

"I moved here," I said. "A long time ago."

"Really? Where from?"

A smirk flitted its way across my face, fully knowing that he wasn't anticipating the answer I was going to give him, as I wasn't going to answer with the expected Pittsburgh or Philadelphia. "Norway," I said.

If he'd been preparing another cup of coffee at that moment, I was certain he would have dropped it and spilled it all over himself. It took him what I guessed to be about two minutes for him to recover, and even then he stared at me with wide eyed awe. I snickered. I loved this reaction from small town people. If the town wasn't founded by Scandinavians, the people in town tended to think we were all magical beings sent from heaven.

Well, most of us didn't fit that description. And I can't speak for the other magical beings from Norway, but sent from heaven, I was not.

I waited eagerly to hear what the first thing to come out of his mouth was, as it was bound to amuse me. His actual response made me lose it for all of thirty seconds. "So, you guys don't actually still believe that Thor is real, do you?"

Upon regaining control of my senses, I answered, "We try not to let him know that."

This had the desired effect of lightening up the mood, and we continued laughing and talking for quite some time, forgetting that anything else was happening outside of our little bubble of a coffee shop. As far as the two of us were concerned, we were the only things that existed in the world.

Traffic may not have been busy this time of night, but we were startled out of our reverie as we realized that this shop was open for twenty-four hours for a reason as a customer approached the counter to place an order. I ducked out of the way and grabbed my hot chocolate, which had cooled considerably in the time we had talked, then made my way over to the little table off to the side as Ben placed the lady's order.

After a few minutes, Ben snuck over to the side of the counter nearest my table and rested his chin in his hands as he leaned his elbows against the counter. This must be quite the boring job in the middle of the night. Poor guy.

"So, Jack, are you a viking or something?"

I heard the teasing note in his voice, but the question itself caught me so off guard that I nearly spit out my hot chocolate. Thankfully, I managed to swallow it and barely avoid choking, but I was left laughing for several uncontrollable minutes. Jack Frost the viking. That was rich.

A glance in Ben's direction showed his eyes shining with mirth. I liked him already. I would have to get to know him better. He seemed to know how to have fun, even though he wasn't a child any longer, and that I could always respect.

"Darn," I said, "You figured out my secret identity. Now I'm gonna have to do… whatever vikings do to their victims to silence them."

A snort came from Ben. "Is that some sort of death threat?"

I laughed wickedly and flashed him my most sinister grin. "Oh, believe me, Ben. There are some things that are much worse than death."

He snickered, but recovered strangely fast for someone who'd just been threatened with something ominous and unknown. "Well, it wouldn't bother me all that much, but you can go bother my auntie. She's quite ticklish."

I couldn't control myself and I broke out into another wail of laughter. Apparently Ben had decided that the worst thing one could experience without dying was a good tickling. He was awesome.

Bells rung on the front door as another customer walked in, their footsteps clonking over the linoleum floor. Too heavy to be a woman, so this one was most likely a guy. Or a very heavy woman, but I still thought it sounded like a guy.

Ben rushed into duty, grabbing a cup and doing magic again without even waiting for the customer to order. He was either telepathic, or this customer just always came in and ordered the same thing. It would have been cool if it was the former explanation, but I suspected it was the latter. Especially when he plunked the coffee on the counter next to the cash register and said, "I'm charging you double this time, okay?"

A startled laugh came from the customer, followed by a, "Whatever for? You guys trying to make me to lose weight? I'll have you know that I work hard to keep this figure nice and fat, and I won't have any young punk trying to take that away from me."

The chortle escaped my lips before I even knew it was coming, and Ben took this opportunity to jerk his thumb toward me. "Alright, have fun with that, fatso. But I figured I'd do you a favor and keep your buddy here for a while until your slow ass showed up. Teaches me to do a nice thing for a guy."

My jaw literally fell open at the things Ben had said to the guy that I could now tell was Sam, and I desperately wanted to laugh, but I couldn't bring myself to. Was Sam okay with this kind of talk? He certainly didn't seem that fat to me, but I didn't think many people appreciated being called that regardless. Ben had just been an adorable little dork to me. It was shocking to see his personality twist in Sam's presence.

"My ass can't move a hundred miles an hour anymore like your ass can, so don't you go blaming me for only managing to get here as fast as creaking bones will allow. I can still outrun your granddaddy any day."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Anyone can outrun Granddad. He's been wheelchair bound for years."

Sam shoved his finger in Ben's face, shaking it with punctuated purpose. "Exactly! So long as I can still outrun him, I'm doing well, I'd say."

It seemed Ben had been beaten in their little debate, as Ben simply shook his head and chuckled under his breath while he charged Sam for the price of both his drink and my own. A moment later, Sam trotted over and plopped into the chair facing me as his coffee cup clattered on the table.

"Now what did I tell you about talking to my buddy Ben?" He raised what seemed to be an accusatory eyebrow at me, and I raised a nervous one back. I chuckled.

"Um… nothing?"

"That's right." He took a swig of his coffee. "And I'm gonna keep it that way. You bother ol' Benny boy as much as you like. He needs to be bothered now and then so he remembers people still love him."

I blinked in silence for several moments after hearing that, sensing there was quite the story behind that statement, but deciding that this was no time to pry. Especially since the subject of our discussion was standing just a few feet away and would probably hear every word we said. No need to make the poor guy feel any more awkward than he probably felt after what Sam had just said. Not knowing what else to say, I simply nodded.

Sam took another sip of his coffee and plunked the cup back on the table before he looked at me. "Now, what brings you here tonight, son?"

I looked back at him and sighed, carelessly running my finger around the lid of my hot chocolate cup. "I don't know. I just felt like I needed to talk to you. The lady I'm living with, well… she doesn't fully get who I am, and…"

Sam interrupted me. "Wait, you live with someone?"

I half barked out a laugh, but I nodded to him anyway. "Yeah. Long story, but it's only for a year. I just moved in a few days ago."

"And she doesn't know you're a viking yet? Oh the horror!" I snorted and looked up to see Ben standing with his hands placed over his cheeks in mock horror, and I awarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're eavesdropping?" I said.

He nodded without any shame. My mouth ticked like it wanted to grin, though I was uncertain whether to allow it. Ben was pretty funny, but should he really be overhearing all of this?

"It's part of my wages," he said, nodding emphatically. "They don't pay me enough money to justify keeping this job, so they make up for it by supplementing my income with all the gossip that comes through here every day." He gestured for me to continue, then leaned his head against his hand expectantly. "So come on. Tell me more about this viking hater."

I could tell that our conversation had Sam extremely confused, but he crumpled up into a laughing posture as he resigned himself to his fate. After a moment of patiently waiting on my part, he eyed me once again. "So you're a viking now, Jack?"

I took a sip of hot chocolate and shrugged. "Ben figured out my secret. What can I say?" I don't think that helped the situation at all, as Sam struggled for another couple minutes before he regained control, but both Ben and I shared amused conspiratorial glances. We knew that Sam needed to laugh. It was good that he was able to now.

"So why does Mr. Ben think you're a viking now?"

I shrugged as I took another sip of my drink. "Maybe it's just the fact that jeg er norsk." I smirked fiendishly at Sam, but then went back to my hot chocolate, hoping to appear more absorbed in my drink than I was in my joke so I wouldn't spoil it by laughing at myself.

If Sam had been the sort to spit out his drink whenever he got startled by something, he would have bet that he would have done so at this time. But since he wasn't that sort, he merely gulped and then stared at me with eyes so wide that I wondered for a moment if it was possible for human eyes to pop out from shock. If it was, Sam was a leading candidate. "Maybe it's just what?"

Little Mr. Ben didn't help much in this area as he lost it all over again, disappearing behind the counter into the abyss of whatever baristas hid back there that customers couldn't see. We knew his was alive by the muffled sounds of his laughter emanating over the floor, but alive for how long, I was unsure.

The distraction had made me unable to come up with a decent response to Sam while Ben was on the verge of death by laughter, and before I could recover, Ben did instead and he popped back up over the counter. "He's Norwegian. I don't know what he just said, but I think he said he was Norwegian."

"Give the man a prize!" I flicked my hand in Ben's direction as though whatever servants I had at my beck and call would actually distribute said prize. I had to work on getting some servants now. It sounded like fun.

Now it was finally Sam's turn to react to the weird interchange. "Wait, you're Norwegian?"

"Where'd you expect me to come from? Africa?"

I needed to learn to tone down my snark a bit in front of Ben, because the poor boy couldn't handle it. He disappeared from the counter again and returned to the abyss back where nothing could be seen. It was anybody's guess how long he would be down there. "Looks like we lost Ben again," I said.

Sam rolled his eyes at that, but didn't seem particularly concerned. "Okay, so you're from Norway. But that makes you sound almost…" He waved his hand, grasping for words that were hovering in front of him but still too intangible to grab. "...normal."

I snickered at his word choice, and he cleared his throat to regain his composure. "That sounded bad," he said. "What I mean is that claiming a country of origin makes it sound like you were born there." He then leaned closer. "But were you born? How did you… you know…"

I rolled my eyes at him and promptly pinched his nose, causing a shriek from him as he finally got a reaction he'd expected out of Jack Frost. It seemed to calm him down a bit, which was the whole point. "I was born to a boring little Norwegian family. We then decided to immigrate to America and continue to be a boring little immigrant family. The only thing special about us was that we were not originally from here. But yes, I was born."

That gave Sam pause for thought. It seemed the idea of my having been human once had never occurred to him, and it seemed to make him slightly uncomfortable. But it was just something he was going to have to deal with. He rubbed his chin for a couple minutes. "May I ask when you were born?"

I sighed, not sure I should answer such a question within easy hearing range of an eavesdropper, but I had to say something. Ignoring the question outright was rude. "A very long time ago."

Ben took this opportunity to pop back up over the counter. "Of course it was a long time ago, because you all came over on your viking ship to take over America!" Sam and I just gave either other a longsuffering look, but Ben seemed to be enjoying himself. At least one of us thought he was funny.

"Ben…" Sam turned in his chair so he could stare better at the crazy boy in question who found interrupting us to be the best thing ever. "Don't you have other customers to tend to?"

"Nope!" Ben plopped his chin right on the counter, sounding a clonk through it that I couldn't imagine wasn't painful in some way, though the silly kid gave no indication of it. "The lady who came before you just left. Now you two are stuck with me."

I was pretty sure Sam was going to start lecturing Ben for interrupting us, but I found myself hoping he wouldn't. It was my fault for picking this table that was right where Ben would assume it was okay to chat. Ben shouldn't be punished for that. He didn't realize what conversation he was interrupting, or I was sure he wouldn't have been able to utter a word.

Throwing caution to the wind in the hopes of distracting Sam from Ben, I blurted out, "The lady I live with seems like she almost believes in me." Well, if nothing else, I had at least finally gotten back on topic.

Both sets of eyes finally turned their attention to me, and I cleared my throat awkwardly before I continued on with the topic I had started. "Y-You are the first adult I've ever gotten to believe in me, Sam. I just… I don't know… I guess I was hoping you could help me figure out how to win over another one."

Mercifully, Ben remained silent on this matter, possibly because he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. And possibly because my face had taken on a slightly somber expression. Either way, it allowed Sam time to think of what he had to say in response.

"This… being believed in, I gather it's important to you somehow?"

I nodded and looked down at my hot chocolate, not entirely sure how to continue this topic without causing problems for Ben. But I supposed it was his choice to listen in and possibly freak himself out. He could leave any time to do other things.

"Normally I can't even be seen unless someone believes in me." I chanced a glance up at Ben to see how he had taken to that last statement. As expected, he wore a hilarious expression of puzzlement, but still wisely chose to say nothing. I decided to ignore it and I turned back to Sam. "The rules are different this year, so everyone can see me for once. But-"

"-You'll turn invisible again at the end of the year." Sam had finished the sentence for me, surprising me yet relieving me at the same time that he had picked up on my train of thought so quickly. I gulped and nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Sounds pretty lonely," he said.

I ran my finger around the lip of my hot chocolate cup, not even able to drink it anymore. "It is."

"So I guess you need to get as many people to see you as possible before you go invisible again, yes?"

For being old enough to be a young grandfather, he sure had childish logic sometimes, and I chuckled despite myself. Still, I was not one to complain about childish logic. "It would help," I said.

"Alrighty then," he said. "I can get you another adult believer." I looked up in surprise as he spun around in his seat and looked up at the bewildered eavesdropper. "Yo, Ben! Do you know who this guy is?"

"Jack the Norwegian Viking," he said, snorting under his breath, then he sobered up just as quickly as his snark had come. I hadn't even realized the guy could be sober. "I was hoping you'd explain what you both were talking about just now."

"You're just not thinking hard enough, Ben. Come on, it's obvious. His name is Jack, he left a bunch of ice behind last time, he nipped at my nose just now? Think, Ben, think! Use your noggin!"

As Sam's voice died out, an awkward silence sprung to life as Ben's face twisted into several different expressions of confusion while he looked repeatedly between Sam and me as he tried to figure out the puzzle. Just when I thought he wasn't going to get it, he gasped as his hands flew over his mouth, and then he promptly fainted behind the counter.

My first impulse was to jump up and see if he was alright, but Sam had grabbed my hand before I had even reached a standing position. "Just wait for it," he said. So I sat back in my chair and tapped my foot anxiously, hoping that there were no dying baristas behind the counter.

Finally I heard some scrambling from behind the counter, and Ben's head popped back up over the counter as he aimed a pointed finger right in my direction. "Jack Frost! You're Jack Frost! In my coffeeshop! What are you-What are you doing in my-" I didn't even have the chance to answer before he fainted once again.

I looked at Sam, pleading with my eyes to be allowed to make sure Ben was alright, and Sam finally caved and released my hand. "Alright, now you can go and check on him."

As I leapt over the counter to check on the sprawled out mass of Ben on the floor below, a familiar sensation pricked itself in my chest, and I smiled despite myself. Ben was being overdramatic, but he would be okay. I couldn't have that feeling in my chest unless he were alive and well. I knelt down to where he pretended to be dying of some weird jungle disease and whispered in his ear.

"I guess you believe in me now, don't you?"

It wasn't the expected turn of events, but I guessed that I had successfully gained another adult believer that night after all.

Aaaaaaand, I finally finished the chapter. After several weeks. Maybe I should have bought myself some more kombucha so I could have finished this chapter sooner. It sure seemed to help quite a bit for the first half, haha.

I hope you all liked this anyway. Feel free to tell me what you think. It does help me quite a bit. Lets me know what things you guys are actually reading this story for. ;)

So then, hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner than the last one. Until then, take care, and see you next time!

P.S. It's my birthday today, guys. Wish me a happy birthday. Or something. You don't have to. Something. *chuckles*