I should be working on original fiction, but have a long chapter instead. No warnings beyond a brief description of a morgue and what goes on there.

Chapter 21: Finders Keepers

Jack didn't know where he was. He'd sort of lost track of time when fighting Nightlight and... and everything that had followed after, so the fact it was daylight here told him little than it was probably somewhere in the Western Hemisphere, although the western-most parts of Europe weren't entirely out of the question. It depended on how long he'd been gone and how long he'd spent unconscious in this new local. The chill in the air and familiar feel of the forest suggested North America. Unfortunately, North America was a big continent.

Even worse, Jack was without his staff. Not even the two broken pieces of it were anywhere in sight. And it's damage was affecting him even now. It was an odd sensation, and very worrying, but he couldn't feel anything below his waist except for an uncomfortable pins and needles sensation unless he focused on actually feeling it, at which point the sensation turned painful. Getting his legs to work was an exercise in frustration because they could work but didn't seem to want to. Jack had managed to stand for a few minutes at a time and even walk, but his legs kept giving out after a few steps and it took longer each time to recover. He'd ended up half crawling, half dragging himself by his arms to the tree he was now leaning against while he frowned down at his legs.

He needed to reach a clearing, Jack decided, so he could try and signal Sol in hopes the Sun might be able to pass the information about... about what Jack did to MiM along. He'd admit as much. MiM had even told him to do it, no doubt realizing it would free Jack from his oath with Pitch. There was also the matter of Jack suddenly being elsewhere after thinking of a desperate wish, one he still wanted to achieve. The fact that Jack was here at all and not currently Pitch's Fearling Prince suggested MiM's wish had come through at least this much. The fact it had happened at all gave Jack a small hope that maybe MiM wasn't quite dead either and simply in need of rescue. Jack laughed bitterly at that thought. As if such a rescue would be simple.

As for telling Sol, well, Jack had always felt kindly toward the Sun once Sandy had explained what exactly the binding entailed, even if he did melt Jack's snow. Jane hadn't had to marry North to gain her practically immortal life, only be bound to a star. North had refused to back down when he'd become aware of that and so the star binding was actually a three-way binding. Jack respected North for going through with the wedding anyway and the marriage was actually good for them, although they seemed to do better with a degree of separation.

The star involved in the binding wasn't Sandy, although all of them in the know encouraged that point of view lest Pitch learn the truth. Not even Bunny and Tooth knew, although North had broadly hinted at it when he'd mentioned he and Jane have marital relations in a nice sunny area. The simple fact was, many people forgot the Sun was a star. A fairly young star, as stars went, but still powerful enough to keep Pitch and the dark things that flocked to him bound to the night and the shadows. The fact Sol was star-bound to Jane and North just meant he had a stake in the happenings on this world. So Jack would have to get out of this dense forest to an area where he could see the Sun and Sol could see him back. Once Jack got his legs back under him, that is.

Jack was hungry, thirsty, frustrated, and fighting against sheer exhaustion that seemed to grow worse the more he fought. He didn't let that stop him, however, when he heard several voices calling his name in the distance. Using the tree to drag himself up, he tottered unsteadily in the direction of the voices, calling back, "I'm here!" He must have fallen asleep while contemplating his options, because the light had dimmed the way it did in the afternoon, meaning he had less time to gain Sol's attention than he'd thought.

Still, Jack managed to stumble along on unsteady legs, not unlike a new foal and he nearly cried with relief when he saw the line of people beating the bushes and apparently looking for him because he recognized the people of Burgess. As it was, his legs nearly collapsed out from under him and only sheer determination kept him upright as he kept going in order to meet with his would-be rescuers.

"Here! I'm right here! Oh, am I glad to see you!"

Having someone walk right through you is a horrible experience. The feeling of not existing for a single, terrifying moment is impossible to describe but it rocked Jack enough for him to lose his already shaky control over his legs. He fell to his knees with a thump and a shaken gasp even as he pressed a hand to his chest to make sure he actually was breathing, that he did indeed still exist.

The search party, Jack realized, consisted entirely of adults and since his oaths were broken, he was no longer Jackson Overland in the slightest. Even without his staff, he was still Jack Frost and none of the people looking for him could see him because they weren't looking for Jack Frost. Worse, he'd never been Jack Frost without his staff before so he had no clue what he could do. Flight was obviously out because while the Wind moaned around him, it had yet to try and pick him up, something it was usually eager to do. Which really stank, because flight would solve his mobility problem. On the plus side, if he headed in the direction the searchers had come from, he'd probably find Burgess. Forcing himself back up, Jack made his slow, unsteady way towards town.

North did indeed know Danny's address but unfortunately, from Aster's point of view, North was used to traveling by roof-top and chimney when the distance wasn't great enough to go by snow globe or sleigh. Having the large man drag him about to their destination was not something Aster wanted to experience again. He didn't mind heights. He really didn't, as long as he had control. North dragging him about by snow globe, sleigh, or that last chimney that left Aster coughing soot and his fur dusty black was not in control. Still, they made it to the kid's house and seeing the boy's face when the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus stepped out of his fireplace was almost worth the indignity Aster had gone through to get there.

"You're, uh, a bit early, aren't you? It's only the twenty-first."

"True, true," North said as Aster tried to shake off the soot coating him. North was, to Aster's irritation, as red-clad and clean as he ever was. "However, we are needing your help. Is very important."

"Uh, okay? What do you need me to do?"

"Can you take us to morgue?"

"The... morgue? Why do you want to go to the morgue?" Danny asked in an incredulous tone. "And why do you need me to take you there?"

"We are needing to be rescuing my emsolnishka/em, your Miss Jane."

"Ya see, the adults kind of have the wrong idea about her state of... aliveness."

"Is that why the police called asking when was the last time I'd seen Jack and Miss Jane and told me not to go to work at the bakery today?"

"Probably," Aster said even as North added, "Very likely."

"Okay. I hope you don't mind riding in my beat-up old car. Hey, Mom! I'm going out! A few friends asked for my help with something!"

"Okay!" a female voice called from another room, "Just don't forget to go to work today!"

"She doesn't know?" Aster asked.

"Not yet. I was about to tell her when you showed up. And let's hope she doesn't anytime soon or I'm going to be stuck here."

"Right."

The car really was frightening to behold. Aster gently nudged it with a foot before declaring, "Yeah, no. I'm not riding in this. I'll just run beside ya."

"Bunny! Where is your sense of adventure?" North scolded, trying to wrap an arm around the pooka. Aster recognized the gesture for what it was - a way to grab him and shove him into the vehicle - and he nimbly dodged it.

"Nah, he can run beside it if he wants," Danny said as he opened the driver's-side door. "The only things holding this hunk of junk together is a hope, a prayer, and a lot of rust."

"Hmm," North replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he looked the car over. "I am thinking there is more holding it together than that, but it is in need of work."

"Yeah. Now are you getting in or are you running like the rabbit?"

Despite that whole rigamarole, the trip over to the morgue, which was apparently situated in the town's police station, was anticlimactic. Getting into the morgue looked to be a more interesting challenge because the building was humming like a hive of bees as dozens of people, in uniform and out, swarmed the place.

"Wow. They've got police here from everywhere," Danny exclaimed as he looked at the information printed on the cars parked outside the building. They were walking up, having been forced to park down the street. "They've got the county sheriff and cops from all the neighboring towns and even a few from the city. Wow, that one's from the capital. And there's a news van over there. Looks like they're setting up for a press conference or something. Whatever you guys are involved in, it's getting a lot of attention."

Aster grimaced even as North nodded in acknowledgment. Getting in when two-thirds of their group couldn't be seen was doable, if uncomfortable. Like every other spirit, Aster hated being walked through, but it looked like an inevitability with the number of adult non-believers around.

"The morgue's in the bottom floor. They have a door for it in the back," Danny said, gesturing at where the building, situated on the slope of a hill, had it's bottom floor half exposed by the surrounding landscape. "We'll give it a try first. I think it's usually kept locked, though."

"Right."

Moving carefully, the three managed to get through the crowd gathering on the front steps of the building and around down to the slope leading to a parking lot and the door they needed. Then Danny's phone rang.

"Hello? Mom! What's wrong? Calm down, I'm fine. I told you, I'm with some friends. No, you haven't met them, but we're actually at the police station right now. No, we didn't do anything wrong! There's some sort of press conference going on with a news crew and everything, so we stopped to see what's going on. Yeah, yeah. I'll come right home. Yes, I promise you I'm fine. I'll see you in a bit. Good-bye, Mom."

"Danny? Is that you?" a woman called. All three of the would-be sneaks froze and turned to look at the officer approaching them. Myra Bennett smiled at the sight of the boy.

"Hi, Mrs. Bennett. Or is it Officer Bennett here?"

"Detective, but you can call me Mrs. Bennett. Came for the press conference, did you?"

"Yeah, what's going on? Everything's been weird today," Danny asked, purposely not looking at the two spirits slinking away.

"Well, the press conference will explain a few things. And then I have a favor to ask you."

"Um, sure. What do you need?" Danny asked as he was snagged by the detective.

"Well, we just lost our guide," Aster noted as Danny was pulled away by Myra Bennett.

"He is safe and we no longer require his guidance. Let us go fetch Jane and be on our way," North replied with a hard set to his face. Aster looked at him and nodded.

"Right. Let's do this."

The door was locked, but considering North had started out as a Bandit King and even now was the focus of a legend that had him entering millions of locked homes in one night, it didn't actually give either spirit any trouble. More concerning were the two men standing in front of the door labeled as the place they were trying to get to.

"Have you done anything with the body yet?"

"Not yet, not beyond a quick overview. I can't really do much more without her medical records. Well, technically I can, but it also doesn't feel right. It's Miss Jane. It doesn't feel right cutting into her when it's pretty obvious what killed her was whatever ripped into her. I'm still not sure what did that. I'd say the marks look like a human with claws did it rather than any kind of wild animal, but then I'm not exactly an expert on wild animals."

The other man hummed in agreement several times as he listened before asking, "So why do you need her medical records?"

"Well, to determine her full name and age, for one. How old do you think she is?"

"I don't know. Considering how old Jack is, I'd say at least forty, although she looks more like fifty or sixty, maybe seventy considering her hair's all white, but that might be dye. Some ladies do that."

"True, but I can't put down 'indeterminate age' for someone I've known my entire life! It's... disrespectful! That's what you do to John Does. By the way, how old is Jack?"

The other man suddenly frowned in concentration before admitting, "You know, I have no clue. Teenager, of course, but I'm not certain what exact age he is. And now that you mention it, Connors upstairs is pitching a fit about how hard it is to file a missing person case when you can't prove the person ever existed. He can't find any kind of birth certificate or social security info on the kid."

"Nor can I find anything similar for Miss Jane. She never came to my practice and neither did Jack, so I called Dr. Cornel because some parents and grandparents use her to save time, even though she specializes in pediatrics, and she doesn't have anything on them either. Richards, the dentist, doesn't have anything either and I have no clue where to go looking outside of town. I don't even know Miss Jane's last name!"

"Isn't it Overland? I'm pretty certain that's Jack's last name. It's one of the things you learn in school when they get into the history of the town: the bakery's always been owned and operated by the Overlands."

"I thought so too, but maybe she's been going by her maiden name or something, because there's absolutely no records of a Jane Overland anywhere."

"Surely there's some sort of property deeds or tax documents or something," the other man suggested as they moved from the door and headed for the stairs. "I'll help you look, if you'd like. And Bennett's dropping off a sitter for her kids. She lives by the bakery, so we could have her swing by and look at their records."

"Finally!" Aster muttered, heading for the door before noticing North wasn't following him. The man was staring at a bulletin board or, more accurately, at an artist's rendition of a rather nasty looking older man. It took Aster a moment to realize the picture was supposed to be of North.

"Good thing they can't see ya, mate, or we'd be in real trouble," Aster stated as he nudged North, making the large man start and reach for a sword. North calmed immediately and his hand left the sword hilt as soon as he touched it.

"Da. Let us be going. Jane is waiting."

At first, Aster couldn't see where Jane could be waiting in the cool-temperature room until North went unerringly to what looked like six stacked metal doors in the wall and opened one of the middle ones to reveal a cold chamber deep enough to keep the body he pulled out on the accompanying long tray. The body bag had been removed, as had Jane's clothes, which became apparent when North pulled back the sheet enough to reveal Jane's face and bare shoulders.

North, who had been frowning practically this whole time, suddenly beamed as he said, "Ah! I have always been wanting to awaken Sleeping Beauty with kiss!" He then followed word with deed and kissed her with a loud smack. There was a brief glow as the star-binding did its job. Then Jane was sitting up, clutching the sheet to her bosom as she looked at the room in dismay.

"Oh dear. The town thinks I'm dead, don't they?"

"Yep, and they think this gumby did it," Aster answered, indicating North with his head.

"Oh no," Jane sighed, leaning her head into her hand before looking up and asking, "Where's Jack?"

The two males shifted uncomfortably before North said, "It is looking like Pitch has him."

Jane let out a very unladylike curse before shifting to stand, wrapping the sheet around her as she went.

"Well, first things first, we need to get back to the bakery. I want some clothes and the ones I came in are probably not only rags, but locked away as evidence somewhere. Besides, Jack has enough things of varying importance lying around at home that I might be able to do a finding spell. I trust you have a way there that doesn't involve convincing the town that there's a nude corpse running around?"

North and Aster exchanged glances, making Jane sigh again.

"You didn't think of a way out of here with someone the adults can see, did you?"

"There is Danny's car. I was paying attention while he was operating it and I could be driving it over. He will understand us borrowing it to make quick getaway," North suggested, looking please with himself.

"Danny's here?"

"One of the officers saw him before we got inside. It's a zoo out there, but the car park out the closest door's pretty empty. We probably could sneak ya into a car, although I'm not so sure about this blighter driving," Aster stated as he pushed in the tray she'd been lying on and shut the freezer door. There. That should buy them some time before they realized she was missing.

"It'll have to do," Jane decided.

"Thank you for doing this, Danny," Myra Bennett said to the teen sitting beside her in her car.

"No problem, Mrs. Bennett. You're busy for the same reason why I'm not and I think all of you adults would be happier with us eighteen and unders safely locked inside while you go search the woods," Danny said before giving her a cheeky smile and saying, "Besides, I've never ridden in a police car before."

"Oh? Did you want to ride in the backseat?"

"Nah, but thanks."

"Alright. Anyways, mine and Patrick's work and cell phone numbers are on the fridge as well as all the emergency contact numbers. There's several frozen pizzas in the freezer, so just throw one in the oven. Just make sure to follow the instructions on the box. Jamie's been busy with some sort of project in his room, so just check in on him every so often. Sophie's really in to My Little Pony so you can probably just throw it on using Netflix to keep her happy. I should be back by ten tonight. I'll call if I'm not. Patrick will be back by two in the morning. We told your mom you'd be spending the night, so just crash in the guest room. Bedtime for Sophie is eight and she likes to be read to. Jamie's is nine. Make sure they've bathed and brushed their teeth and don't let Jamie convince you to stay up late."

Danny gave the appropriate response and the rest of the drive was silent. Danny didn't blame Mrs. Bennett. As far as she knew, some person had killed Miss Jane and kidnapped Jack. Danny knew enough about them both to know that whatever had really happened, it involved something the police weren't prepared to deal with. He'd arrived at the police station just as they were announcing a temporary curfew for the kids thanks to a kidnapping. They were, to Danny's consternation, looking for Santa Claus.

Then his cell rang. By the time Danny had dealt with a frantic phone call from his mother, the two immortals he had been guiding had slipped away and Mrs. Bennett had noticed him. Her husband worked the afternoons and late evening shift at the hospital the next town over so he normally got the kids to school and daycare. Mrs. Bennett normally picked them up, since she worked an early shift, and stayed with them for the rest of the afternoon and evening. With everything going on and school out for the winter holidays, Mrs. Bennett couldn't be home this afternoon and she desperately needed a sitter, especially since her normal one had disappeared.

After getting Danny's acceptance - he honestly didn't have anything better to do and he had a feeling Jack, Miss Jane, Santa, and the Easter Bunny would all be disappointed in him if he didn't help out - Mrs. Bennett had worked out the details with Danny's mom over the phone and then left work long enough to ensure Danny got safely to her house. Mr. Bennett practically flew out of the house when the police car pulled in, pausing only long enough to make sure it was his wife and kiss her on the cheek before getting into his car and taking off for work before he was much later. Mrs. Bennett watched him go fondly before adding a few more late minute instructions.

"Since it's so early, the kids can have snacks if they ask for them, but not after four. There's fruit in the fridge and graham crackers in the cupboard last I looked. Try and get dinner ready by six. And lock the doors after you get inside and don't leave the house. Patrick and I have keys. Be safe."

"Yes, Mrs. Bennett."

"Jamie, Sophie," Myra called to the two kids standing in the open doorway, "I have to work all day and tonight. Danny's going to look after you, so be good for him."

"Where's Jack?" Jamie asked, looking confused by the sudden change in babysitters. Myra's face fell before she struggled to hide the emotion away.

"Something... something bad happened and Jack's not available right now, okay? Just be good for Danny. I'll be home later."

"Okay."

"Come on, let's go inside. It's cold out here," Danny suggested, herding the kids inside and locking the door behind him.

"What's going on?" Jamie demanded after his mom's car pulled out and took off. Danny shrugged.

"I wish I knew, kid. What I do know is that something bad happened to Miss Jane at the bakery, Jack's missing, and that Santa and the Easter Bunny are already working on fixing it. The adults are aware something's wrong, so they want everyone eighteen and under inside a locked house. Also, for some reason, the cops seem to think that, whatever happened to hurt Miss Jane, that Santa did it."

"But Santa wouldn't hurt Miss Jane!" Jamie insisted.

"I know, which means the cops are barking up the wrong tree. But good luck trying to convince them of that, because they're all adults who don't believe in Santa Claus."

"Adults are so stupid sometimes," Jamie huffed.

"Stupid adults," Sophie added.

"Yeah, do me a favor and don't claim she got it from me when she says that to your parents."

"But then I'll get in trouble!"

"Them's the breaks, kid," Danny said, rubbing Jamie's hair and making the boy scowl. Suddenly a sly look - or, rather, what Jamie probably thought was a sly look - appeared on the boy's face.

"Will you let me blame you if I show you the fairy I caught?"

"You, wait, what? You caught a fairy? Like a Tooth Fairy?"

"Nuh uh. More like Tinker Bell from Peter Pan. You know, like in the play where she's a ball of light that changes colors based on her mood. It's too cold for fireflies or lightning bugs and it changes colors, too. I've been trying to figure out what emotion each color means."

"Fairy, fairy, fairy! Bootiful fairy!" Sophie chirped.

"Huh, okay, you've got me interested. For one time only you can place the blame on me in return for seeing your fairy."

"Cool! Come on! It's up in my room."

"Of course it is," Danny stated dryly because where else would a kid hide a fairy?

Jamie's room was... well, Danny couldn't say it was clean but it was in much better shape than Danny's was. Jamie went over to a pile of toys in a corner and removed the top layer before extracting what looked like an old peanut butter jar that had been cleaned up, unlabeled, and had tiny holes punched into the lid. Floating inside the plastic jar was a sullen blue light about the size of a quarter or maybe a bit bigger.

"Pretty cool, isn't?" Jamie asked as he held out the jar for Danny to take.

"Yeah, it is," Danny admitted because, for all that it looked like a floating ball of light, that alone was enough to be amazed by.

"I caught it the day before yesterday. It was kind of yellowy-orange or maybe gold when I saw it and it was kind of floating around like it was in a daze, so I ran and got my old firefly jar and caught it. That's when it turned pink, which I think meant it was kind of shocked. Then it turned red, which is definitely angry because it kept trying to get out and I think it was trying to scold me, although it just sounds faintly like bells. It was like that all day yesterday too, and then this morning it's just been blue and hasn't really moved, despite me trying to tempt it with treats and everything."

"It probably wants out," Danny stated reasonably.

"No! Don't let it out! It's proof there's something out there! Something the adults can't ignore, like they do Jack and Miss Jane." Then Jamie turned sad as he said, "I hope they're okay. You said Santa and the Easter Bunny were working on helping them, right?"

"Yep. They were on their way to Miss Jane when I got separated from them by your mom needing someone to look after you."

Then Danny noticed the light turned an inquisitive green and it perked up a little. Danny frowned at it before sitting on the bed and holding it up where he, Jamie, and Sophie could all get a good look at it.

"Do you know Jack and Miss Jane?" Danny asked. The light bobbed up and down like it was nodding.

"Is that a yes?" The light bobbed again.

"What's no?" The light replied by moving side to side like it was a head shaking.

"So you really know Jack and Miss Jane?" Jamie asked excitedly, wondering why he'd never tried asking it questions. An emphatic nod-like gesture was his answer.

"Did you know something happened to them?" Danny asked as Sophie giggled and tapped at the jar. The light turned blue before slowly making its yes gesture.

"What happened?" Jamie asked. The light stayed still, but there was a faint chiming sound.

"Yes or no questions only, kid. I don't think it can answer anything else in a way we can understand."

"Oh. Right. Can you find Jack?"

There was a paused before another emphatic yes. Then the light bumped meaningfully against the lid of the jar.

"You'll lead us to him? And not get us lost or hurt?" Danny asked, remembering it was a good idea to hash out details when dealing with fairies that weren't Tooth Fairies. That deal was already set out; teeth for money was an even exchange. There was a longer pause before the light bobbed in an affirmative.

"Well, let's go! I'll get mine and Sophie's coats and shoes!" Jamie enthused before running out of the bedroom, Sophie thundering behind him.

"Jamie, wait! I promised your mom we wouldn't leave the house! She'll skin me alive if I let you go out," Danny called as he followed the kids to the coat room, which was really just an alcove by the front door. Jamie paused in pulling on his shoes, leaving him shod in only one as he pouted up at Danny.

"But the fairy can help us find Jack! You said he was missing and if we can find him while Santa and the Easter Bunny are taking care of Miss Jane, then Mom won't have anything to worry about. And what if he needs our help?"

"And what exactly do you think you can do if he does need help, kid? This isn't a game. There's something scary out there and it seriously hurt Miss Jane. I don't think you're going to do much against it."

Jamie's pout turned wobbly but it was Sophie who started crying.

"Ah, no! Come on, don't cry, Sophie. I know, do you want to watch My Little Pony?"

"Ponies?" Sophie said, although it was garbled enough that Danny wasn't one hundred percent certain that's what she'd said, but the nod she'd given while saying it was enough for him. He scooped up the sniffling toddler and sat her down on the couch before trying to figure out which remote did what. By the time he'd gotten her settled in, he remembered he'd left Jamie in the coat room and went to check on the boy, only to find the kid's coat and boots missing and an empty peanut butter jar sitting on the floor.

"Detective Bennett?"

"Copy," Myra replied to her radio.

"State your location."

"Main Street approaching the bakery."

"Brass wants you to swing by the bakery. The coroner refuses to do more than a basic check without medical records for a proper comparison and he says he doesn't have her records and neither does any other doctor in town. There's also a question if she left a will anywhere."

Considering Dr. White, who doubled as the coroner, was the only doctor in town who specialized in adult medicine - the other doctors being Patricia Cornel, a pediatrician, and Duane Richards, the dentist - that meant Miss Jane apparently went out of town for medical necessities. That also meant looking through the victim's papers for medical records or, failing that, an address, phone number, or even a paid bill.

"Ten-four. On my way."

The bakery was actually only a few blocks from her house, so it wasn't a big deal for her to stop by. In fact, she'd often done so at the end of a shift. It felt different this time, with the lights off and the police tape fluttering in the breeze. Myra frowned at the latter because it looked like someone had detached some pieces and gone inside. Myra unsnapped her holster. After letting dispatch know what was going on, Myra approached, gun in hand, and did a quick sweep of the building.

"No one's here, dispatch. Probably a nosy hoodlum or a thief looking for some quick cash. We'll need to do a sweep later to see if anything was taken. Good thing the register's bolted down. I'm going to look for those records now."

"Ten-four, Detective Bennett."

Myra headed upstairs. Having been up there before just earlier that day, she knew all the bakery's paperwork was, oddly, kept in Jack's room. From the looks of it, while he didn't work in the bakery directly, he helped out by doing the bakery's taxes and accounting. There were two filing cabinets in the room and the closet had a few tubs of records that needed to be kept for a few years but weren't immediately useful. Not finding what she needed in the filing cabinets beyond years of ledgers and recent tax records, Myra turned to the tubs in the closet, pausing only contemplate the bloody handprint on the closet doorjamb and wondering what could possibly have been in the closet that was so important.

The closet was neatly organized with small items in tubs that were stacked on myriad shelves built into the space. Myra reached up for a tub that noted it contained records and pulled it down, only for it to catch on the next tub over and send it crashing to the floor, spilling it's contents. Myra set down the tub she was holding and inspected the mess with a sigh until she noticed the spilled tub had contained hundreds of pictures. The backs all had inscriptions on them, some in Jack's bold yet pretty cursive that Myra recognized from the accounting books and others in a clunky, blocky lettering that she realized had to be Miss Jane's.

Myra smiled at the pictures as she started cleaning them up, putting them back in their tub, only to pause when she recognized in one picture the man they had an APB out for as a possible witness or even suspect. He had a long white beard, a red coat, a jolly face, and he really did look like Santa Claus. He had his arms around Miss Jane in the picture and they were both looking at each other fondly. A former lover? A current lover, for that matter? Turning the picture over, hoping to find a name to go with the face, she found the photo inscribed, "Jane and her husband, 1982," in Jack's hand. Husband? Myra had thought Miss Jane was widowed, but apparently not. It looked like she needed to find a marriage license as well as medical records and a possible will.

Hoping there would be more pictures of the mystery man and that one of them might have his name written down, Myra started sorting through the photographs. It was odd, but many of the photographs seemed older than usual, like what you'd see a genealogist gather, although the subjects were all the same. The strange man was in fewer photos than Jack and Miss Jane were, but he was there. Most of them described him as "my husband, Nicholas" in Jane's blocky handwriting or reiterated Jack referring to him as Jane's husband except for one of the man standing alone labeled, interestingly, "North, 1880", in Jack's hand.

It was an old-fashioned black and white photo but it was undoubtedly the same man. And that's about the time the dates written on the photographs started to register in Myra's mind. She grabbed the ledger that had been left open on the desk. The last date was two days ago; Jack apparently hadn't gotten around to doing yesterday's figures before he'd been kidnapped. But Myra wasn't interested in the numbers so much as the handwriting. It matched the handwriting on the back of the pictures, just as Myra had noted earlier, except how could that be possible? She tore through other ledgers stacked on shelves and placed in the filing cabinets. The same handwriting in each and every one, dating back decades, too many decades for it to even have been done by Miss Jane unless she'd started doing the accounting as a small child and no child had such beautiful handwriting.

Myra flew back at the pictures, sorting this time for a different criteria. Baby pictures, school pictures, pictures of Miss Jane and her mysterious husband with brown hair, pictures of Jack as a little boy, anything. Someone who obviously loved taking pictures this much should have such things, but Myra couldn't find any. And the dates: 1992, 1893, 1941, 1968, 1872. There had to be other pictures. Wait, there were the ones downstairs in the bakery proper.

Myra ran downstairs, holding a stack of photos to compare to the ones on the wall. The ones on the wall were the same. Teenaged Jack, white-haired Miss Jane, no sign of the husband, however. The inscriptions Myra found on the back when she took some down matched the ones in her hand. Then she started when she realized the one in her hand, the last of the stack and thus the first to be looked at when she'd flipped it for the inscriptions, said in the same handwriting as in the ledgers, "Me and Myra Graves." Graves had been her maiden name and she'd gone by it until she'd married Patrick Bennett almost a decade ago. Myra flipped it over to see a little girl she recognized as herself, dusted with white as she danced in the snow with a barefoot, white-haired Jack who had a staff tucked under one arm.

Myra sat in the closest chair with a thump because she remembered when that picture had been taken. She'd been ten and had a horrible crush on the older boy and so was delighted when he agreed to dance with her in the snow in the back garden of the bakery, which she'd insisted was a magic ballroom. Jack was an excellent dancer and she'd been having so much fun that she'd barely noticed Miss Jane take the picture before calling them inside so Myra could warm up. Jack himself never felt the cold, as the photographic evidence of his bare feet proved, not even when he wasn't holding his staff.

Myra's eyes slid to the hook over the door. The staff wasn't there. When the staff's away, Jack Frost's here to play. Every child in Burgess knew that rhyme. She had memories of saying it and heard Jamie and his friends using it, although she didn't know who'd taught it to them. In fact, the more closely she examined her memories, the more she realized the boy she saw in them wasn't the father of boy who had just last month babysat Jamie and Sophie for her, but an excuse her mind had come up with for why that same boy hadn't aged in at least thirty years. Longer than that, according to the dates on the pictures. She looked back at the wall of pictures and realized the one right by her head was of the descendants of the founding families of Burgess. A copy of this was in the library as it was the oldest picture of Burgess and it's families known to exist, having been taken around 1850. Jack and Jane, she noted, were in the picture. They hadn't even been hiding it, had they? Miss Jane, Jack, even that odd man who showed up every so often dressed up like jolly old Saint Nick.

Myra took a few moments to compose herself until she no longer felt like repeatedly banging her head against the table. An immortal man named Nicholas who dressed like Santa Claus? If that wasn't freaking obvious, she didn't know what was. Miss Jane was even a picture-perfect Mrs. Claus, all plump and cheerful and always baking, especially cookies. And she lived with Jack Frost of all people.

"I can't believe I'm contemplating this," Myra moaned but she was. And, she realized, if she really did believe in everything the pictures and ledgers and everything was telling her, there was a lot more going on than she realized. Who would kill Mrs. Claus and kidnap Jack Frost? Who could kill Mrs. Claus for that matter? And where did that nasty black sand fit in? Myra glared at it because it reminded her of childhood night terrors before she was taught to laugh at them - by Jack, if she remembered correctly - about monsters under the bed and bogeymen in the closet.

Myra's neck creaked as she whipped her head so she was facing the stairs and the bloody handprint on the wall by the light switch. They were pretty certain the handprint was Jack's, left while trying to get away from the murderer/kidnapper. The matching one upstairs was on the doorjamb made it clear the person who'd made it had been in the closet.

"Oh no. No way," Myra exclaimed out loud at the thought that had struck her. It was too crazy to believe. Of course, so was believing Miss Jane and Jack were Mrs. Claus and Jack Frost respectively, but at least Myra had the proof of the pictures, ledgers, and her own childhood memories to rely on (although she had no clue she owed the last to the same golden-plumed little Tooth Fairy that had awoken Jack's memories around three hundred years earlier). But this idea?

"I refuse to believe that our perp is the Bogeyman," Myra stated firmly. There was a susurrus when she made that pronouncement, which made her glower at the black sand on the floor.

"Bogeyman," she enunciated carefully. The sand moved again, just enough to make it clear it had moved.

"Oh crap."

A sound from outside made her pause in her consideration of how exactly one would go about arresting the Bogeyman. No one was supposed to be here, but whoever it was they were heading for the front door. Myra removed her gun from her holster, even as she wondered if it would do any good against an immortal or monster or whatever the Bogeyman was, and held it in both hands, barrel aimed at the floor in front of her in a ready position as she waited to see who would open the door.

Notes: I actually based Jack's troubles walking after his staff broke on the movie during the period he's down and out. First he curls in on himself when the staff is broken. Later, in the pit, he does use his legs and move them about, so he's obviously fine, but he also uses them surprisingly little. He spends most of his time sitting or kneeling and very little actually on his feet and when he is on his feet, he doesn't move around much, which is an oddity for him. At one point, he even pulls himself along by his arms and hands before finally getting his legs back under himself. All of which implies that, whatever the breaking of the staff did, it involved some physical ramifications.

The sun, Sol, is indeed the third party in the star-binding. The star binding works by making all involved immortal as long as one of the people involved still lives. They just have to reach the other (starlight/sunrays work just fine - it is based on stars and their abilities, after all) and they can heal their wounds or even bring a person back from a temporary death (which from the point of view of the dead person is actually like falling asleep). Thus, once out in the sunlight, North woke up and North then woke up Jane by kissing her, although a simple touch would have had the same effect. They kept it quiet that Sol was the third party in order to convince Pitch that Sandy was the star involved in the binding, hence why Pitch went after Sandy before attacking North and Jane.

If the My Little Pony references this chapter isn't enough, yes, back in chapter two when North bumped his fist against the toy pony's hoof, he was brohoofing. Which means, yes, North is a brony. Let's face it, if any guy would be, it would be him.

The difference in Jack's and Jane's handwriting is actually explained back in the montage, where Jack was given education in the summer months during the first few years he was house-bound. Back then, education was the realm of those rich enough to afford it and girls were rarely considered worth the money it would cost to educate them. The poor rarely had any education at all and if they did, in New England it was often because of dame schools, which was basically a woman rounding up some kids and teaching them to recognize letters and numbers so they could read the Bible and keep household accounts, as well as how to do various chores and things like knitting. In other words, a somewhat modified kindergarten education. In contrast, a formal instructor would, among many other things, make sure the student could write "in a fine hand" aka cursive and thus prove their learned status. Jane, busy with the bakery and helping around the house, wouldn't have learned more than the basics necessary to make signs and keep a proper tally of what was used and sold (and even then, Jack did most of that work). Their search for myths in books in order to find spirits, however, means that Jane's actually not that bad at reading, even if she doesn't write much or terribly well.

As for the light Jamie's following into the woods... Well, that would be telling. *evil grin*