Sindlefingen, Stuttgart
11pm (After the yelling has paused)
"I cannot believe you," Selena said, her voice dark and low in a way that made Ivy want to run for the hills. "We trusted you; do you understand? You said you'd watch your brother, and you go off to - "
"I'm sorry," Ivy stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. "I - I'm sorry."
She was sat on the couch, the contents of her bookbag scattered across the table. Nothing incriminating to find, of course, but that didn't seem to stop the woman before her, who was pacing up and down the threadbare carpet with her hands on her hips. Anton was nowhere to be found, likely hidden in his room from the explosion happening below.
"Sorry does not cut it anymore!" Selena snapped, causing Ivy to flinch. "Sneaking off like this - how are we supposed to trust you with anything? You left Anton alone!"
"I didn't leave him alone," Ivy managed to say, the words falling from her lips despite the survival instincts screaming at her to keep your mouth shut and let her finish. Technically she hadn't, Marvel had been there and as annoying as he was, she knew he'd never let anything happen to Anton -
Where had Marvel snuck off to, that little shit?
"Ivy Amelia Kunze, do not lie to me."
The words hit her in the center of her chest, a strange heat spreading through her heart and causing her ribs to clench. "I'm not," she whispered, an almost hysterical laugh in her voice. "I'm not lying!"
But you have to, the voice in her mind piped up. C'mon, Spiritus Dolo.
Selena said - yelled, really - something else, but Ivy pushed the shame and anger and guilt deep down, trying to steady her nerves. Her fingers gripped the edge of the couch cushions, the fabric impossibly tight beneath her fingers. It had been a few months since she'd done this, and she'd hated every second, but she couldn't have this conversation, not tonight.
So she closed her eyes, tuned out her mother, and tried to tap into the strange otherness she knew lurked beneath her skin.
It didn't come easily, or at all naturally, using this - this - this whatever it was. She fumbled for it, all the while desperately trying to ignore the noise from the outside world, when she at last connected with that little bit of Halloween that had lodged itself inside of her, like fingers finally finding what they'd fumbled for in the dark. The hairs on the back of her neck and all along her arms stood on end, and she clumsily redirected some of the heat into her eyes until sparks of red and brown began to flicker behind her closed lids. With the taste of electricity and deceit on her tongue she took a calm, careful breath before opening her eyes and meeting her mama's gaze.
Nothing much had changed, in the moments she'd been gone. Selena stood there, having paused in her rant, peering at Ivy as though waiting for any word to set her off again. Ivy's eyesight was a bit sharper now, and she could see the new stress lines and tears in her mama's eyes with far too much ease. She had to throw water on this fire now.
"I did not," she said, wondering if her mama could hear the strange note in her voice, "leave the house." On her arm, the tattoo began to burn.
The scowl on her mama's face grew impossibly larger. "Young lady, do you think I -"
Ivy focused so hard she nearly forgot to breath, straining until she could see the red visage of her aura at the edges of her vision. Black specks began to flicker across her vision but she ignored them, fighting to stay in control. She willed her aura to stretch out, to wrap around her mother until the older woman blinked rapidly, her scowl flickering.
"I did not," she said again, ignoring the centered flame on her arm, "leave Anton alone. I went outside to smoke for a bit, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stayed outside so long. But I was here the whole time."
Her mama's mind, unconsciously, pushed back. After all, she'd waited for Ivy, hadn't she? There'd been no smell of smoke when she came back in but… but maybe she had been in the garden. Ivy got so lost in her own world these days, it was possible she just hadn't heard…
Ivy kept whispering her suggestions until her head ached and the edges of her vision went fuzzy until finally, finally, she could sense the moment her mama gave in and accepted the lie.
The moment broke with Selena's long inhale. "We don't tell your Papa about your smoking again."
"Nein, Mama." The lie had some benefit - her papa hated the smoking habits of the women in his home.
"I know Anton's getting older, but if we say to watch him, you need to do that, not go outside. Ok?"
"Ich verstehe, Mama. I'm sorry." The heat and focus were still there, focused on maintaining the lie. She could tell - she knew - that her mom was still on edge, still uncertain about something, but wouldn't be able to pinpoint why. "And as for you -"
What, Mama? Ivy thought with a venom that surprised even her. What else can you possibly keep me from?
It didn't seem like Selena had an answer, either. Instead, she sighed, rubbed at her stress lines (setting off another pleasant wave of guilt in Ivy) and simply waved a hand at her daughter. "Bed. Jezt."
"Ok, Mama," she said dully, finally allowing the red film over her eyes to recede. "The otherness sank back down into her stomach, the Mark on her arm slowly faded from a searing pain to a dull throb. It scared her, whatever this was and however it worked. It didn't feel like a power or a gift that she could control - it felt like it was commanding her, and the release of that control made her head spin as the energy was drained from her.
No, not drained altogether. She knew what that felt like, and that - and that wasn't a memory she could deal with right now.
Instead, she stumbled to her bedroom, leaving the door open to make her parents' midnight check a bit easier. Changing into her night clothes, Ivy flopped into bed, feeling a new wave of anger at herself. She'd gotten away with it (if barely), she'd gotten to spend time with Jack, why was she acting like this?
Still, Ivy couldn't summon any regret for the choice she'd made mere months ago, signing away her soul to Halloween. The look of betrayal on her Mama's face stung, but the look of joy on Jack's when they'd been scaring together?
She couldn't trade that for the world.
April 10th
Stadtmitte, Stuttgart
10:45am
"Greeting, Ambassador Ivy!
I'm pleased to update you that we've gathered enough interested volunteers for checks along the border of the Veil, so there should be updates soon regarding investigations on your side of things. We've seen a few demons in the distance, but none have come close to test our borders again. In my skull, that's good news for the health of the Veil! Still - try and keep other humans away from your little secret entrance, alright?
Now, for other matters - you haven't written for a few days and even the Wind has barely seen you. Marvel was his usual helpful self when I asked about you - which is to say, utterly useless. We're as stable and predictable as ever, down here, whenever you need a place to land.
If you'd like, we can meet after your sundown to discuss the next steps regarding investigations and the new city list. Hope all is going well. Tell me what your friends are doing!
Yours,
JACK SKELLINGTON."
Ivy eyed the note with exhaustion, tucking it under her notebook when the boy next to her craned his neck to read it. He seemed to think he was in a music video, from the way that he lounged in his chair and looked at her paper through hooded lids (decorated with ridiculous eyeliner). She narrowed her eyes at him, a warning on her face, which he seemed happy to ignore, crossing his hands behind his head and continue to stare at her.
Whatever. Angling her chair to block his view of her desk, Ivy pulled out a scrap of paper and scrawled her response.
"Sorry, Bone Boy. The Wardens have increased surveillance until this weekend at least. Is sundown on Friday ok instead?"
She didn't bother to sign it - not only would Jack have no trouble identifying it, the last thing she needed was some classmate finding it and changing the rumors about her from "mean and possibly a criminal" to "absolutely nuts".
"- and what do you think about it?"
Panic seized Ivy's system for a moment with the jolt of uncertainty that plagued non-attentive students worldwide, but to her immense relief the question was directed at the boy next to her, who finally stopped his staring.
"About Galileo?" He said lazily, crossing his arms. The Lehrer gave a disapproving huff, slapping the front cover of his book. Ivy, as subtly as she could, dragged her own copy towards her.
"Genau, Lucas. Why might Galileo have told Andrea that his actions were for him alone?"
Across the room, a hand shot up.
Oh, god. Ivy snuck a glance at the book - a play, too - and tried to repress her groan. The science had kept her awake during Leben des Galilei, but everything else about it made her want to throw the script across the room. She stared at her notes, which trailed off conveniently around the time the Wind had been distracting her with letters from Jack.
Galileo says "screw the church"
Solar System (Copernicus) Church
Andrea = student? A dude apparently?
Torture time
Galileo vs Church = bitch
Catholicism is
Ivy stared at her last point. Catholicism is what? Had she even finished the script?
Lucas - a name that seemed too common for the uncommon figure - was having trouble too. "Uh…to keep Andrea from talking to the Church?"
The hand began to wave, almost frantic.
"Not a bad thought, Lucas, but think deeper. What's his state when Andrea visits?"
His state? What did it matter? Why couldn't they just say something and be done with it?
The hand, and the owner attached, began to vibrate at Lucas' response of, "Well…"
"Herr Schiller - "
"Yes, Lea, go ahead."
Lucas sighed and sat back in his seat, seemingly equal parts relieved and irritated. He caught Ivy's gaze and pulled a face of can you believe this? Ivy biting her lip to keep from laughing even as she did the same.
The hand finally retracted, the owner sitting up straight and beaming. "Galileo was old and embarrassed after he renounced his teaching to the Church," she began, in a tone that caused both Lucas and Ivy to roll their eyes. "Since he asked Andrea to smuggle his work, Andrea is able to rationalize why his teacher and hero went back on what he believed, at least to the eyes of the public. It's a lot easier for him believe that then the Church actually managing to torture Galileo into silence."
"Very good, Lea -" the girl beamed - "but why would Galileo tell Andrea that isn't true? Why not take the route of the martyr, the hero? Ivy?"
Well, she definitely hadn't finished the play, but Ivy thought she had an idea.
"'Cause then he's remembered for being something he's not," she said simply. A flash of an earlier section flew through her mind. "He's already lied, right? About inventing the telescope? So maybe he was done with that. Maybe he doesn't want to be Andrea's hero." She shrugged, praying that was enough.
"Ivy brings up a good point. What happens when you're made a hero you don't want to be? Now, since this is Brecht writing, remember what we talked about with the Marxism metaphor - has Marx been made a…"
Ivy tuned back out, content, as she began to fold her note into a paper airplane beneath her desk. Movement at her peripheral turned her attention to Lucas, who resumed drawing swirls at the edge of his Hausaufgaben after shooting her a wink.
Ivy turned resolutely away, fighting the smile on her lips all the same.
It felt good, even for a moment, to have another human stare at her with something other than suspicion.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
There was nothing quite like spring in Stuttgart. High above the buildings that made up the inner city, the sky was so blue it made Ivy's head spin as she emerged from school, catching a glimpse of the vineyards through the gaps in the stores. Bicycles were whizzing past, the shouts of kids running towards the basketball court light in the warm air. Charming as the muted sunlight of Halloween was, there was something to be said for the perfect heat of a star. The Wind picked up, swirling her hair around and whispering, "a lovely day to you, Miss."
She wanted to talk back, but the rest of the Year 11's were pushing their way through the doors. All of them were running towards the basketball court or the train station, so she sidestepped the traffic and leaned over the stone railing, pulling out her notes to Halloween. She held them tightly a moment before offering out her palm, letting the Wind breeze through her fingers and carry them away.
"I'll make sure he receives this, Miss. Do enjoy the day and be careful."
Ivy grinned at the air, following the notes as they spiraled upwards into the brilliant sky until they simply vanished altogether, the Wind along with them.
A sharp jostle to her shoulder knocked her from her reprieve, the real world crashing back down. Shaking her head, she bounded down the steps to unlock her board, flinching when she heard the laughs of her old group. Unable to help it, she turned around.
They were exchanging Prufung grades, laughing and complaining in equal amounts, the moment serene and unified in the afternoon sunlight. One of the girls glanced up mid-laugh and caught Ivy's eye, the smile fading instantly from her face. Ivy kept her own expression clear, refusing to look away, until the other girl broke the staring contest, turning her body to avoid Ivy altogether.
'Tell me what your friends are doing?' Like hell, Jack.
Cheeks burning, Ivy spun around and marched away, the humiliation and anger making her skin itch. The image of false pity in the other girl's eyes had her clenching and unclenching her hand on the strap of her backpack, moving numbly towards the bus station in the distance. Curfew dictated that she go straight home, so as she shouldered her way through the crowd perhaps a bit roughly she began to formulate a plan to bury her head in her pillows, lock her door, and perhaps have a good -
"Hey, Galileo."
Instinct caused Ivy to turn, revealing a small group sitting on the steps of the St. Maria chuch. There were four or five of them scattered about, with Lucas sitting at the top, clearly the leader. He leaned forward, cigarette between his teeth, dark eyes focused in on her.
Irritation and curiosity battled fiercely but briefly. Stepping out of the flow of anxious schoolchildren, Ivy stopped just before the group, one hand propped against her hip.
"What do you want?" She asked, dragging her gaze over each of them. Aside from Lucas, two others appeared to be a year or two younger. The last one was clearly the youngest of all, peering up at her with wariness. Those two - what were their names? Nigel? Nate? They all wore dark, mismatched clothing, plumes of cigarette smoke wafting from Lucas and surrounding the group. Begrudgingly, she was impressed by the display - Jack would love their attempt at intimidation.
"So," Lucas said, seeming far more in his element now that they were out of the classroom, "you into plays?"
Ok, maybe Jack would laugh instead. "No more than you," she responded coolly. "Or were the middle finger sketches on your copy in admiration?"
"Can't help but notice you aren't strutting the halls anymore." Lucas idly flicked away cigarette ash, not bothering to return the taunt. He hadn't blinked once since Ivy came over. "What changed?"
Gritting her teeth, Ivy forced herself to stay patient. "Oh, disappearing makes people a little uneasy, you know?" She flashed a predatory grin and felt her tattoo itch with the chance to show off. Not yet, she could almost hear Jack say. Lure them in. "What's it to you?"
"Hang on, weren't you the one that landed the 360 flip down the stairs of the mall?" One of the others cut in, looking at Ivy's board with recognition. In spite of herself, Ivy smiled at the memory of finally landing the trick after hours of fails and countless Band-Aids. At her confirmation the boy, who had tick-tac-toe games scribbled across his arms, nodded, his gaze not quite as critical.
"Where do you all skate?" She asked, curious. Their boards were hidden beneath their bookbags, but while she recognized their stance, she didn't ever recall seeing them Dodger's.
"Böblingen," the youngest piped up. Unlike the others, he had a pair of roller skates strapped to his feet, which he gently swished backwards and forwards on the smooth stone of the stair. His jet-black hair was shaggy and covered part of his eyes, which seemed far friendlier than the others.
"I've heard that's a good one."
"Yeah, where do you go since you got kicked out?"
"You interrogate anybody who comes over?" She asked, directing it to Lucas. She still couldn't pinpoint his age, but the hard set of his eyes and shock of dark hair made him a striking figure. For his part, he shrugged, somehow making the causal motion threatening - or at least, threatening to another passerby.
"T'' be fair," he said, voice low, "not many people come over."
That much Ivy knew. Now she knew where the other two were from - she'd seen them slinking around the halls, in the office of the Schulleiter. A distant memory floated to the surface of her mind - the whole group, rattling around as she watched from the windows of the U-Bahn.
"Look, was I an asshole to you?" She asked.
Lucas blinked, intense staring broken. His lips parted and the cigarette fell, gently smoldering against the brown steps. Before he could move, Ivy reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her pack, offering it with a raised eyebrow and feeling the stares of the others on her. Slowly, Lucas reached his hand out and took the cigarette, causing the tension in the group to ease. He sparked his lighter, took a full breath, and focused on her once more.
"Why'd you ask?"
"Cause I've been an asshole to a lot of people and most of them I don't remember. If you're going to jump me or give me a hard time, I'd at least want to know why."
Lucas seemed to acknowledge that, his heard jerking, eyes darting across her form. If they were going to jump her, Ivy knew she wouldn't win, but she wouldn't go down easily either. Distantly, she wondered if she could use her aura the way Jack did, in that strange, silent intimidation of his. One of the other boys spoke up, the stillness broken by the frantic bouncing of his leg. "Not us, directly, I mean, but we saw you - "
"To others," Lucas cut in, disapproval written across his face. "Remember Jans from English a few years ago -"
"How would I - "
"The one you offered a tampon to when he cried over his test score?"
Ivy felt her face cringe, her body jolting with embarrassment. Damn, she'd forgotten about that one. She'd been what, 13? 14? It hadn't been subtle, either - just loud enough for others to hear but soft enough to fly under the radar of the teacher. Jans had fled the room and Ivy had dismissed the incident from her mind.
Facing the unimpressed faces before her, Ivy fought the urge to crawl beneath the pavement and die. Running would only make things worse - she was being tested, no doubt, and she wouldn't lose.
"I shouldn't have done that," she said carefully, all too aware that her ears and cheeks were bright red. "He moved but… I should have said sorry before he left." For a moment she thought of leaving it at that, of turning and leaving the remains of her dignity behind, but the strange look on Lucas' face stopped her. This wasn't about Jans, somehow - there was something else he wanted.
"Interesting. You know what confuses me?"
"What?" She asked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes but grateful that they'd moved on.
"You're not at the top anymore. People don't have many nice things to say - "
"Oh, I'm well aware -"
"So why aren't you doing anything?"
Ivy blinked. "Excuse me?"
A wide gesture with the cigarette. "Some of its true, some of its total shit. Why aren't you kicking the shit out of the people saying it? Not really what I'd expect."
"Look," Ivy snapped, "I'm sure you've got a great mental image of me as a raging bitch, and maybe you're right, but what good would it do if I did that?" She thought of Jack's advice, of his unwavering reassurance in her despite it all, and forced the red from her cheeks. "They can think whatever they want. Maybe I deserve it but going after them isn't going to change shit." Then, with a rush of barely contained anger: "People say shit about you guys too. Why aren't you going after the people who say you're freaks?"
Four faces stared back at her, blinking almost in sync, and Ivy regretted the venom in her tone at the familiar insult.
Lucas seemed to think it over, taking a slow puff of the cigarette and letting it ghost behind his teeth. "'Cause like you said," he replied simply, "won't change shit." He tapped the ash off, a more playful look in his eyes. "Bet you're angry, though."
The words escaped before she could stop them. "Oh, absolutely. It's bullshit."
He smiled for the first time, teeth blindingly white. The others seemed to relax, nudging one another and one pulling out a bottle of beer. "What do you do with that anger?"
"Put it somewhere else, honestly. Or just ignore it." Then, carefully, she asked: "what about you?"
His eyebrows raised. "Who says I'm angry?"
"Nobody dresses like that if they're not pissed off."
That almost earned her a laugh. "Alright, I've got my ways." For the first time, Ivy noticed the metal baseball bat strapped to the bottom of his own backpack, acting as a cushion. Ivy grinned, feeling a strange sense of peace despite the oddness of the group.
Above them, the bells of the Kirche began to toll and Ivy's shoulders slumped. "Well, fun as this was, I've got to get going."
"Why's that?"
"Grounded," Ivy replied, re-adjusting her backpack.
Lucas gave a lazy smile, spreading his arms wide. "Hey, me too."
Ivy snorted, not doubting him for a moment.
"Good luck with that, Galileo."
"Since you were apparently paying attention today, you know it's Ivy," she said loftily, turning from the group and beginning to walk away.
"Ow! What was that for?" She turned back to see one of the younger two rubbing his back, glaring at Lucas.
"Introduce yourself, fool."
"Oh. Uh, I'm Nikolai. And this is -"
"Stefan." Tick tack toe boy waved, sleeve falling to reveal even more games.
"And I'm Theo!" The youngest piped up eagerly, smile blinding.
She nodded at them all, silently promising to look for Nikolai and Stefan in the halls more. "See you around, then."
"You too, Galileo."
Huffing and rolling her eyes, Ivy turned her back on the group and, upon finding the sidewalk clear, couldn't resist the urge to clamor aboard her board, pushing off and gliding smoothly down the street. She knew they were watching her, their stares hot on her back, and for whatever reason she couldn't stop smiling, despite how late she'd be getting home.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Halloween Town
3pm
Living with a mad scientist wasn't exactly a recipe for peace, but since Sally had never known anything else, the distant sounds of swearing and endless tinkering were as familiar to her as the pumpkin sun in the sky or the warmth in her chest at Jack's smile. Humming, she reached for her bucket of spiderwebs, carefully removing the old ones from the window and adorning it with new ones - tighter, stronger, spookier.
"That should be better for you," she whispered to the spider on her shoulder, who watched her work with interest clear in all eight eyes. "You deserve better than those weak old ones!"
The spider didn't seem to protest, scuttling back and forth on her shoulder.
Sally found herself wishing, not for the first time, that the spiders could speak back to her. When the Doctor got in his "little moods", as Jack called them, he wouldn't speak to her for a few days on end, the endless ideas crammed into his brain making speaking too much of a chore. Sally understood (as well as she could, anyway,) but the days of silence weighed heavily on her mind. If she didn't speak often, the words she'd learned slipped away far too easily, until they vanished like the spiderwebs in the window.
Sometimes, however, Jack would drop by and everything would change. Every time they spoke, new words fell into her waiting mind, and she herself fell a little bit deeper into the feeling Ivy had bluntly described as love. Sally had always found that learning words made the world around her make much more sense, and finally having the word for her affections seemed to lay out the next steps…if the recipient weren't so…ugh. She hadn't found a word that encapsulated Jack's more frustrating side.
Finkelstein didn't attend Town Meetings unless specially requested, so Sally wasn't sure what had been discussed, but she knew how to read Jack all the same. The unease, the stress, and the distant gaze in his sockets all those months ago hadn't left her mind - in fact, witnessing it herself had become far more common. Sure, some of that had been due to Ivy's…ordeal, yes, that sounded good - but then it just…hadn't gone away.
The Wind blew around the tower, smacking against the window. Sally jumped, getting ready to wave when a bright flash of blue caught her eyes. Opening the latch delicately (so as not to disturb the new webs), she reached out her hand and let the Wind deposit the small, folded heart in her hand.
"Thank you," she said sincerely, a bit sad that she wouldn't be able to hear the response. Closing the window after the Wind's parting breeze, she unfurled the heart and felt herself grin at the note.
Sal, my gal!
Bone Boy and I are chatting on Friday, but I haven't seen you in ages, so head to the Scry and let's talk. Bone Boy mentioned your redesigns so don't THINK you can get away with not telling me!
Sally laughed, tucking the heart into her pocket. Taking the ramp to the top of the tower, she gave a knock for formality and stepped into the Doctor's experimentation room.
It was strange, this top room they had. The walls were cluttered with notes and displays of past experiments, shelves lined with supplies and endless odd and ends. Sally couldn't help but trace one felt finger alongside the bucket of leaves reserved for her stuffing or smile at the plank with leather straps where the Doctor had sourced Ivy's electricity, the same energy that given life to her form.
Sometimes, she wondered if the Doctor regretted his choice of bringing her to life through the means he did - or if he regretted experiment as a whole. Every day, the gap between what she was made to be and what she wanted to be grew between the pair.
In moments like this, however, she was grateful for it.
"Doctor?"
"Mm-hmm."
Doctor Finkelstein was hunched over the table, one half of his brain before him. He prodded uncertainly at his own mind; one syringe next to him.
"I have to go to Witch Tricks for some supplies. Do you need anything?"
"Hmmm."
"Alright, then. I'll see you later. Your soup is on the ice."
"Hrmpf."
Sally nodded, going so far as to bow her way out of the room to see if he'd noticed. As predicted, nothing. Perhaps she could be a scientist.
For one thing, observations! She loved those. She took in a few as she walked down the path from the Tower, watching as the wheat fields outside town swayed golden in the breeze and the smoke trailing up from certain dwellings. At the Gate, Edgar flapped his wings and prepared for an aerial patrol, the raven's tiny red waistcoat gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. Town itself was lively, the children involved with some game as they ran through the streets, incorporating the new gaps in the cobblestone into their play.
The sign for Witch Tricks had been destroyed in the attacks on Halloween, but the shop itself seemed to have embraced the rest of the damage as part of the run-down structure. She ducked through the door, setting off the screaming doorbell.
"Hello, Sally," greeted the monster at the counter. "The Doctor need some more chains?"
"Oh, always," she responded, filling up a basket with extra needles and thread. The Doctor had a habit of hiding hers when he was cross, and she didn't want to be left without a leg again. "Do you know if Rosie is in?"
"Hi, Sally!"
The young witch bounded from behind the counter, pink skin flushed, blue and gold aura full around her. "Can I help you?"
Sally was still awkward around the witches, having been created while they'd been gone, but Rosie was easy to get along with. (Being the inventor of the Scry certainly helped, too.)
She smiled softly at the witch, hoping she wouldn't be too much of a bother. "I know it's late, but could I use the Scry?"
Rosie instantly perked up; her dark eyes gleaming. "Oh! Sure, as long as I get to say hi to Ivy first."
It was a short walk to the home of the witches, but Sally's slight awkwardness was covered by Rosie's endless chattering. Becoming a full witch, it seemed, was quite the process and Rosie was glad to have finally begun to undertake it.
"You'd think inventing a whole new thing of magic would be enough," the witch huffed. "But nooo!"
Sally, completely out of her depth, fell to what felt natural: reassurance and support. "I have no doubt you'll figure it out," she said simply. "How much time it takes isn't important anymore."
"I guess you're right." Rosie uncovered the cauldron, waving one hand over the water to activate the magic. "Ready?"
Sally nodded, the thrill of using magic never quite getting old. Together, she and Rosie dipped their fingers into the water, feeling the shockwave that traveled up through their bodies in response. Both focused their minds on one particular human, feeling the memories run down their arms and into the potion, power churning within. The grey water turned over onto itself, swirling frantically until Ivy came into view.
She was sitting in a chair in a way that Sally was sure it hadn't been designed for the action, tilted only on the back two legs. A pen was hanging loosely from her mouth and her gaze was listless as she stared at a book in front of her, eyelids dropping dangerously.
"Hi, Ivy!"
"HOLY -"
Another accurate prediction, Sally though as Ivy toppled backwards, crashing mightily onto the floor. Rosie cackled beside her and Ivy, still crumpled on the floor, threw up her middle finger at the witch.
"Ivy?" A distant voice in the Human World called, one Sally didn't recognize. "Are you -"
"Fine, Mama," Ivy hollered back. "Just…" she clamored to her feet, setting the chair back and scooting closer to whatever image she saw them on. "Hi, Rosie. What's up?"
The witch waved, grinning. "Angus and I are gonna booby trap the Mayor's house!"
Ivy flashed two thumbs up. "Atta girl. Illusions?"
"Yup."
"Perfect. Make his head spin metaphorically and literally."
Rosie saluted solemnly, then turned to Sally. "I gotta get back now, but just wave your hand over the Scry when you're done, and it'll go away."
"Good," Ivy muttered to herself on the other side, "I do not want to explain this being in my window."
Rosie flounced away, hat bobbing in the Wind, and Ivy instantly fixed her attention on Sally.
"You, doll, are a sight for the best eyes. So!" Ivy perked up, face resting in her hands. "Tell me about your redesigns."
"It's nothing special," Sally said, embarrassed even as Ivy made a buzzer sound and shut her down.
"Wrong answer. Try again."
"It's true, though," Sally insisted, leaning against the cauldron and twisting her fingers together. "Harlequinn will be the one making everything, and he has far more experience than I -"
"So isn't it quite the honor he wants you to help?" Ivy interrupted smoothly. "You gotta remember, Sal, I was there. He wanted your eyes on it." She laughed, bright and self-deprecating. "Hell, you gave Jack the best makeover in centuries and made me look like a proper Citizen on your first design. If that's not the start to one hell of a career, I don't know what is."
Something about that made Sally's stomach twist in nerves, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. She knew she was good at what she did - she'd far improved upon the knowledge that Ivy had Transferred to her, doing her own research and experiments to see what might be best, or what fulfilled the colors and shapes in her head. It comforted her to think of it like the science she'd been meant to do: hypothesize, experiment, repeat, improve. Science, the Doctor always said, was full of invigorating discovery and even chance. It was the same way she considered her own creations, coming to the life she knew those silks and fabrics had.
"If you say so," was what she said, unsure of how to articulate the strange layout of her thoughts. "It will be good to see the Town have some proper clothing, instead of -" she broke off, biting her lip.
Ivy glanced down, a dullness to her usually bright face. "Burned. Yeah. I get it." She went mostly still aside from one hand, flexing anxiously where she must think Sally couldn't see it.
Sally hated that expression, the far-away pain - she saw it enough on Jack. "I"m sorry," she tried. Apologizing was always the best case where she was involved, if the Doctor had taught her anything.
Ivy didn't seem to be of the same mind, shaking her dark hair. "S'not your fault, Sal."
Oh, that twisting again, but now Sally knew perfectly well why she couldn't meet the gaze of her friend. She didn't know why she hadn't told Ivy about that first time she'd had a vision. She supposed, in the late nights of anxiety considering the matter, that it was simply too late to do so. Months had passed since she'd seen Ivy's body possessed, glowing green and destroying Halloween Town, crying out that the soul of Ivy Kunze was dead.
How could Ivy say it wasn't her fault when she hadn't done anything?
"You're right," Ivy said, her voice pulling Sally from the whirling of her thoughts. "It'll be good to get these guys looking like professionals again. Let me know if you still want me to sneak you those fashion magazines, by the way."
Sally stared critically at the multitude of layers and wide pants her friend wore, and decided that the fashion of the 90's didn't quite align with her own style.
"I'll be sure to think about it," she said all the same, because she was - to her core and to a fault - polite. It seemed to suitably distract Ivy from the prior topic, if the grin on her face was anything to go by, so it was worth it after all.
"Are you getting along with Harlequin ok? How's that mission?"
Sally sighed, mind drifting to the resident stylist of the Town. For whatever reason, Ivy seemed insistent that the two monsters become friends, but with her new project it seemed she'd finally have to listen. "It's…uncertain. He likes my ideas, I think, but he seems to be…" she trailed off, blowing out a breath of frustration. Carefully, she sorted through the words in her mind, but none seemed to match.
Luckily, Ivy seemed to pick up on it. "Ok, new word time. Describe it."
"He…he likes my work, I can see it on his face. But he tries to hide it? Or act like he…like he doesn't really think what I think he thinks."
"Clear as mud, ok."
Sally held herself up, adjusting her facial expressions and posture. "He'll look like this, sometimes."
Ivy stared at her until Sally felt a wave of self-concionsness sweep over her, hot and uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure…"
"Oh, no, Sal, you're so good," Ivy rushed to assure, holding out her hands like she'd try to reach through the Scry. (Selfishly, Sally hoped that she could.) "It's just -" she broke off with a little laugh. "It's not an expression I'm used to seein' on you, 'cause you're humble."
Another new word. Sally let it fall into her mind, turning the taste of it over in her mouth. She liked the sound of it - it sounded strong but small, almost quiet but for the b preventing it from being swallowed altogether. Humble. She could do that.
"And what is it?"
"If I had to guess, knowing Harlequin, I'd say…" Ivy grabbed a small book, rifling through it until she landed on a word with a ha! "Haughty, Sally," the human said triumphantly. She held the book aloft, reading aloud. "Arrogantly superior and disdainful."
"Oh," Sally said, the word sinking through her stomach and the t pinching the inside of her chest. "That doesn't sound good."
Ivy snapped the book shut, tossing it on her desk and leaning back once more. "Nah, you're fine. Harlequin's probably acting like that to scare you since he's always been the top dog, but the fact that he's working with you at all means it's just an act."
"But how can you tell?"
Ivy gave a wry grin, tapping the side of her eye. "Hey, I'm pretty good at spotting acts and liars, these days."
"Then I'm sure you've seen Jack," Sally said under her breath.
"What was that?"
Sally hesitated. She was worried about Jack, yes, but what if it was just an act he was putting on for her? He'd likely let Ivy in, so perhaps the human would have answers, but…it didn't dismiss the pit of anxiety in her stitches.
"What's wrong with Jack recently?" Sally asked, taking an unnecessary breath.
To her surprise, Ivy deflated, one leg kicking at her desk and making the image of the Scry shake. "Hell if I know," she grouched (a word Sally had learned to describe the Doctor, and had since greatly delighted in using). "He seems so distant when we hang out."
"Really?" Sally tried not to sound too surprised, but - "he always seems to much more alert and…happy when you're here."
Genuine concern, a rare expression on Ivy's face, was loud and clear. "Oh my god, how's he acting when I'm not there?"
"Distant," Sally echoed, fumbling for words. "He doesn't talk to many monsters, and when he does - it's as if his mind is somewhere else. He just shuts himself in the Manor - I see him reading and pacing night and day." It didn't feel like enough, somehow. Jack was functioning, was still the leader Halloween needed, but - "he's not acting like the skeleton I - I know," she finished awkwardly. It was still strange, that Jack considered her a -
"It would do me good, I think, to be in the company of a dear friend," Jack had said, his smile soft and his arm tucked in hers.
She didn't feel like much of one now, sitting idley like this.
Ivy chewed her lower lip, looking worried. "Have you gone over there and see what's up?"
Sally frowned, unfamiliar irritation clawing at her insides. "No, the Doctor doesn't let me go out much, these days. He says everything that happened before was too much excitement, and that's why I'm…the way that I am."
"Well, that's stupid," Ivy said, always quick to disagree with the Doctor. "You had a few months under your belt before all the…stuff…so that should't have been too much of a factor." Her eyes sparkled suddenly, making Sally weary. "You know what I'd do?"
"I'm scared to ask," Sally muttered to herself. She didn't know if Ivy had heard her, but the human likely would've ignored it regardless.
"Take a crowbar to the back of his head and do what I want," she said, satisfied.
"Ivy!"
"What?" Her arms flew up defensively. "First of all, not gonna hurt that old bastard at all. Second of all, you need a break and he needs to get taken down a peg or two!"
Sally sighed, casting a quick glance around for listeners. "It isn't that simple," she tried, optimistically ignoring the roll of Ivy's eyes. "He is my Creator; I can't just go against him that easily."
Ivy's eyes narrowed. "Ok, well, as your other Creator - ew, hate that - I say to hell with Doctor Brain Rot and get your sneaking on!"
A flash of rebellion shot through Sally's body, her chest tight with it. "How's your sneaking around going?"
It had the desired effect. Ivy whined, the smugness on her face instantly vanishing as she slumped down in her chair, a new exhaustion in her gaze. "Ok, fine, you've got a point. We're both under lock and key right now and it sucks, happy?"
"Hardly," Sally retorted. "But really. How are you?"
Ivy seemed almost…uncomfortable at the question, her teeth beginning to worry the skin of her thumb. "I mean, it's whatever." She shrugged, with a casualness that didn't fool Sally in the slightest. "School is…" She blew out a breath, eyes going distant while Sally waited politely. "You know how you first started going into Town and monsters wanted to ask you all kinds of weird questions?"
"Yes." Sally remembered the time well - it had been immensely overwhelming, the stares of dozens of eyes on her everywhere she went.
"Well, my people are doing the same thing, but they don't always ask me, so instead they say it behind my back or just stare."
"That sounds…inefficient."
Ivy snorted. "Yeah, it's a time." She shook her head and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair once more. "And, not to sound like an asshole, but I've never had this kind of problem before with people. So… we're both not great with friends right now."
Sally cast her memory back, but she couldn't think of a time when Ivy had mentioned any friends above ground. Granted, the human's memory had been slowly depleting for months, but the only other human that seemed to stick in Ivy's mind was -
"How is the other human? Bezata?"
Ivy laughed at that, rolling her eyes. Sally hadn't gotten to speak with the other human - she'd only been in Halloween a week - but she'd seemed nice enough: quiet, meek, and got along oddly well with Vlad, of all monsters. Ivy's animosity towards the other, though, had been just as clear as the bruise she'd left on the other girl's face.
"I haven't seen her around much," Ivy admitted, rolling a pencil between her fingers. "Pretty sure her mom would have a heart attack if I ever spoke to her again. Besides, I'm sure she doesn't want to talk to me anyway."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Sal, she fell into Halloween because she was looking for me! Because I jumped into her nightmares and probably scared the shit out of her! If I was her, I sure wouldn't want to talk to me."
Sally thought about that, unable to imagine a world where she'd turn down a connection. "If I was her," she mused, "I think you'd be the only person I'd want to talk to."
Ivy snorted. "How'd you figure that?"
"Because you got her out," Sally said simply. "And, most of all, you're the only other person who could understand how she's feeling about being back."
Ivy went silent at that, gaze landing on something beyond the surface of the Scry. There was hostility in her gaze, yes, but not so strong that Sally felt discouraged. "Are your other friends…" the shaking of Ivy's head cut her off, the human not meeting her eyes.
"Met some new guys today," she said, her voice strained in the effort to sound casual. Sally wished she could say that Ivy didn't need to pretend, not around her, but kept silent. She knew which battles to pick, and at this moment the fact that Ivy was letting her see any of this was enough to keep the encouraging smile on her face. "They seemed ok. Some of them have been in my class before. So there's that."
Sally grinned, this time genuine. "I hope you can get closer with them. And I hope that not everything from before is left behind."
"Yeah, me too," Ivy whispered, still not looking at Sally, her voice unusually soft. "It's so weird, not having people to…" Then, with a shake of her head and a full body shudder, Sally saw her friend switch gears. "Hey, by the way, think you can grab me some extra stuff to make Devil's Breath with?"
Sally wondered if she should press, but decided that it was best saved for later. "You and that potion." Sally shook her head, smiling all the same before a thought occurred to her. "Whatever for?"
Ivy glanced behind her, her voice lowering. "Uh, just thought it'd be handy to have, you know? Never know when you need somebody to take a long nap."
Something sparked in Sally's mind at that. "I…suppose you're right. Yes, I can set some aside for you."
"Cool!" The brightness was back on her friend's face, and that was worth the trouble it would be to explain away the missing ingredients to the Doctor. "Ok, I'll handle things up here and you see if you can put some moves on Bone Boy, yeah?"
"I will not be putting any moves," Sally said crossly. "If he's in this - this -"
"Funk?"
"Ooh, I like that one. Funk." Deep, inviting, then a sharp kick at the end to wake her up. "If he's in this funk, I should be helping him, not -"
"Jumping him?" Ivy offered, her eyes wide and innocent.
It was times like these where Sally desperately wished she could throw something through the Scry, if just to knock that look off her face. "No, Ivy."
The human, of course, wasn't deterred. "Ok, ok, counterpoint -"
Sally became wryly grateful that Ivy had taught her the art of exasperated eye rolling. "Yes?"
Ivy spread out her hands, looking for all the world as though she were proposing some grand initiative at the Town Hall. "Jack's bored, right?"
"There must be a stronger word then that."
"Well, if my German-English dictionary comes up with something, I'll let you know. But, anyway, I think you can help Jack and yourself. He needs a distraction, Sal." The strange seriousness was lurking beneath the human's words again, but this time with a hint of…hmm. "It's my fault I can't come down that often, so I need you to be your interesting, fascinating self and keep him occupied, ok?"
Sally felt panic course through her veins. "Me? I'm - I'm hardly interesting enough to keep Jack's attention," she sputtered.
"And yet," Ivy retorted dryly, "you've managed to keep it for five months and counting, so I think you've got a better shot than the rest of us."
"But -"
"Sally, that gangly, freaky, awkward mess falls apart if you so much as look at him too long. He's not going to make a move because he literally doesn't have the stomach for it, so it's gotta be you, Sal."
The ragdoll sighed.
"Hey, c'mon now. What do we say when we need to get our way?"
"'I am a badass'," Sally droned mechanically. "'Hell yeah?'"
"Hell yeah," the human flashed her two thumbs up. "Besides, you know, a wedding would give me the perfect excuse to skip school for a few days, but I'll make sure to dip for the honeymoon- "
"Goodbye, Ivy," Sally said firmly, waving her hand through the waters and sending ripples across the fading shit-eating grin on her friend's face.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
The thing, of course, was that words tended to stick in Sally's mind, rattling about until she'd tested every way they could be used and sorted them neatly into place. Ideas, it seemed, were the same way - which was why she stood behind the Doctor, awaiting her orders, with a wild impulse in her stitches.
"Alright, Sally," the Doctor said lazily from his chair, securing the two electrodes to his head - one on the outer skull, one directly on his brain. "Set it to the first level, now."
Sally obeyed, cranking up the old machine and watching sparks fly down the wires towards the mind of her Creator. They would tickle at the Doctor's mind, no doubt giving him what he needed to go off and invent something else while Sally…
She let her eyes fall to where her fingers lay, resting gently on the switch. There were three levels she could crank the machine too, with a manual option for when the Doctor felt more 'reprogramming' was necessary. Ivy had gone white when Sally told her of the voltage stored in level 2, so she knew it cold be harmful, just not to the Doctor.
At least, not at the levels he'd set.
"Sally," the Doctor snapped, tone indicating it wasn't the first time he'd said it. "Next level, if you will. And pay attention!"
"Yes, Doctor," Sally droned, a glimmer of irritation fanning the bolt of impulse within her. She dutifully cranked up the machine, her fingers grazing the pin pad. More electricity flowed, the antenna at the top of the ceiling beginning to work in earnest at the hope of creating the literal spark of creativity that the Doctor needed for plans Sally wasn't included in, except to fetch tea or go where the wheelchair couldn't.
The Doctor had created her to be - well, perhaps not a scientist, but a creature dedicated to the pursuit of the unknown, even if only as an assistant. Slowly, she pressed in a new set of numbers, finger hovering just over the go button. Wouldn't she be simply obeying her deeper instincts if she were to pursue the idea that grew in her mind, the morbid curiosity mingling with her own loss of control?
It might've remained an untested hypothesis if the Doctor had kept his mouth shut.
"That's far better," the Doctor sighed, metal skull pinging with the electricity heating it up. "Much easier to focus without all that racket you make. You're an aid, my dear, not a conversationalist."
Sally's eye (and her finger) twitched. There was a terrific crash and a great bolt of light within the room as the servos worked overtime, the demand far greater than what they'd come to expect. Sally shut her eyes, frozen, and wished she could shut her ears to the shout that came from her Creator. There was the smell of burnt fabric and then…silence.
For one long, awful moment, Sally was petrified to open her eyes. There was no way she'd killed the Doctor…right? Surely it would take more to send the "crotchety old bastard" (as Ivy had once snarked) to his Second Grave. But then again…
She bit the bat and turned towards the body, almond eyes widening at the soft puffs of smoke emitting from his previously white lab coat. At least there still was a body, the ragdoll thought dizzily as she crept closer. She fought the urges within her that screamed run! to scan the body instead closely, looking for the tell-tale signs of lip twitching that signified a slightly deeper unconsciousness. None were to be found, the mad scientist instead as still as…well, perhaps it would jinx things to finish that thought.
A fit of memory had her crawling along the floor, tracing the wires back until she could see evidence of the Doctor's EEG levels. To her - well, to her surprise there were levels to read, a slight fluctuating indicating that the Doctor's brain had, somehow, withstood the onslaught.
Sally rocked back onto her heels, breathing an unnecessary sigh. A murder under her belt before her first birthday wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for, and she wasn't quite ready to completely eliminate the Doctor from her life. But for now, it would be alright - a few hours, perhaps, and the Doctor would wake and she'd -
A few hours.
The knowledge rushed through Sally like an irritable gust of the Wind, her mind racing. The doors downstairs were unlocked, the only thing keeping her from leaving currently drooling on the metal slab. She could do anything.
A giggle slipped from her lips, muffled instantly when she slapped her hand over her mouth, only to uncover and laugh freely. Who was there to hide her laughter from? Not him, that was for sure. She pushed herself to her feet, still laughing as she leaned over the face of her Creator, taking a dark glee in how relaxed she felt with those beaded spectacles turned away from her. Humming, she secured the metal straps tighter, kicking her back foot out to push the wheelchair (and remote release switch) far way.
"Wouldn't want you to slip off, Doctor Finkelstein," she admonished, shaking her head as she yanked on the straps. "You need your rest, these days."
A mighty snore was her only answer, the sound following her out of the room as she crept from the Tower.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Freedom! Release! Excitement!
Finkelstein certainly hadn't taught her those words, but Sally had learned them all the same. She felt almost dizzy with delight as she walked down the gravel path, no list or agenda to direct her steps.
"Horrid evening, Sally," Edgar greeted from overhead, flapping his dark wings and turning into the wind. Sally meant to answer politely, really she did, but the giggle of glee that threatened to spill from her lips encouraged her to smile widely instead, one hand flapping in a way that could (perhaps) be passed as an enthusiastic wave.
She passed into Town, enjoying the soft warm breeze that flitted through the streets, just strong enough to sweep through her hair and send small piles of leaves scattering, a few dancing artfully into the sky, the orange almost matching the first streaks of sunset appearing in the sky. A few Citizens stood in front of their town dwellings, gossiping and laughing while a group of children eagerly dove into a pile of mud just off the cobblestone road, shouting as they pelted one another with the slick, black goop that oozed between their (many) fingers. Sally stayed clear of that - the last thing she needed was to waste time painstakingly washing her fabric in the precious moments of freedom she had.
Freedom. Release. Excitement.
What did that mean, exactly?
A shadow fell into her path, thin and wobbly in the late pumpkin sunlight. Sally felt her very being shift - the owner of that shadow always managed to steal breath she didn't have.
"Hello, Sally," Jack said brightly, shaking off the faintest hint of weariness at the sight of her. He strode forward (sidestepping a crater on his way) and halted just before her, tucking his hands behind his back and instinctually bending forward a bit, bringing his face closer to hers. "How are you?"
"Horrid, Jack," Sally answered as smoothly as she could, suddenly self-conscious of her unbrushed hair - surely it must be a sight since Jack couldn't quite keep his sockets from it. "What are you up to?"
"Oh, you know," Jack said, flapping one hand dismissively. Then, at Sally's unchanging patient expression: "I've - well, I've been at the Creature's bookshop. Between you and me," his voice got low and he drew ever closer to her ear, causing the fabric to heat up and her eyes to widen. "He's gotten a few new works from some unauthorized trip. So you can imagine my interest."
He drew back, Sally uncertain if she wanted to stay in that dizzy spell his closeness caused forever or be able to stare at him with a (mostly) clear head. "I'm sure that'll keep you busy for a while, Jack," she teased softly, eyeing the books he had tucked behind his back.
"I hope so!" Jack gave a real smile at that, pulling the books almost sheepishly out from behind him and caressing the covers. "The Mayor and some of the others don't think it proper," he confessed, "for me to be so - so "fixated", as they say, on the new things that happen in the Overworld. I don't know how they can't be!" He shook his skull, thumbing gently at the pages, the new-white of them yellowing beneath his touch. He cocked his head up, meeting her gaze with a strange intensity. "Do you like to read, Sally?"
Oh dear. Sally felt her face flush, the awkward shame creeping up from deep in her stomach. "I, ah…" she trailed off, hoping Jack would move on, but the skeleton seemed oddly still, patiently (for once) waiting. "I should like to," she admitted, giving into the urge to twist her fingers nervously. "I've tried, a few times - the Doctor has a wonderful collection -"
"That he does," Jack agreed readily. "Every branch of science to be found!"
"- but I'm not very good at…at reading." Her eyes darted to the ground, watching the shiny black of Jack's shoes. "I want to learn the new words that books hold, but when I try to read…it's as if the page is filled with bugs that go scampering around. They change places or move altogether, and it takes forever to chase them back into their proper places."
Silence fell and Sally wished a crater had been made where she stood, so she wouldn't have to face the puzzled disappointment that no doubt was on Jack's face. What sort of scientist's assistant was she? The Doctor already was frustrated with how slow she was to read, why had she thought telling Jack of all people that, no doubt he'd think she was a fool or a simpleton or -
"Well, then I'll can just read them to you!"
What?
Sally's embarrassment was banished through sheer confusion. Jack seemed startled too, as though surprised the words had left his mouth. He stammered, sockets blinking rapidly, "that is, ah, if you'd like, I mean, you come over often enough to share such treats with me, really, it's the least I could do to repay you, and this way you could, ah, learn your words without having those, um, difficulties, and - ahh -"
"I wouldn't want to take up your time, Jack," Sally insisted, strangely mortified despite the ache in her chest at the thought of spending time with the skeleton that made the leaves within her restless. "After all -"
"It's no trouble!" Jack cut in, the pair of them both staring intensely at one another. Then, softer: "Truly, Sally. I'd lo- I'd like to be able to be half as good a friend to you as you have to me."
Sally fought the blush on her cheeks, grateful that the curl of hot shame was beginning to ebb away. "It's no trouble to be a friend, Jack," she said, blinking slowly up at him, admiring the way the bone of his skull caught the late sunlight and the sharp line of his jaw. "No repayment necessary."
Jack chuckled at that, low and easy. "Then perhaps we can simply read together as those friends, no talk of payment."
Ah, he wasn't the master of tricks for nothing. Sally found herself nodding along as Jack began to babble about the books he wanted her to hear, long fingers gracefully waving through the air. Fascinated as she was by words, it was rather difficult to focus on anything when she had the full attention and intensity of Jack Skellington pointed her way, the Pumpkin King's presence fueling the seed of mischief that existing in Halloween Town demanded.
"But you'll have to forgive me," Jack said, prompting Sally to tear her focus from Jack's clavicle to his lips (a welcome shift, really). "I don't mean to keep you listening to my old bones prattle on." He extended his arm towards her, head tilting like Zero's. "Are you off to the shop? I could accompany you."
"I'd lo-like your company," Sally returned, slipping her arm into the thin dip of his elbow and beginning to walk, "but I haven't a destination, today."
"Oh?" Jack's brow furrowed. "No errands from the Doctor?"
The secret danced behind Sally's lips, bubbling until she could hardly contain herself. "The Doctor is…not aware I'm out." It was as close as she dared - Jack and her creator were good friends, after all.
"You - you snuck away?" Jack said, sockets wide. "I'd think that Finkelstein would - "
"He won't be awake for a few hours, so I decided to do what I please." She tossed him a smile, hardly believing herself when she added, "and so, your presence to wherever is welcome."
The pair stopped dead, Jack's silently commanding her own. His sockets blinked rapidly, as though seeing her anew. He drew one lip to his teeth (Sally watching in the least brazen way she could) and took an unnecessary, shuddering breath. "You've been taking too many pages from Ivy's book," he joked weakly, though his arm never left hers. He was shuddering, but for some reason it only got worse when she ran a thin finger along the edges of his sleeve.
"Well," she said, with another bolt of confidence, "I thought it was time I did more of what I wanted."
Her gaze lingered on Jack, the strange tugging in her chest drawing her forward to the halted skeleton. He was bent over more than usual, his sockets leaning close to hers. He looked impressed and - and something she couldn't quite name. Discomfort, perhaps, but he almost seemed pleased by the discomfort, his voice breaking as he looked at her. His fingers flickered strangely, and Sally was reminded of the same anxious feeling when she twisted her own fingers.
Sally decided that she may not know the word for what Jack was feeling, but she very much liked it.
"Have you ever been to the café in the center square?" Jack asked, applying the gentlest of pressures to her arm to propel them forward. "They have some mercury milk tea I think you'd enjoy."
"That sounds delightful, Jack," she returned sweetly, running one finger along the crook of his elbow. The arm jerked, but not away - returning to press delicately against hers, as though seeking more.
Yes, she decided, the same maniacal glee from earlier now translated into determination to make that strange, wondrous look on Jack's face appear again. This was worth whatever the cost.
-Aria