This One's For You

Chapter I

Above ground, the sun had set early on a frigid winter's day. Merchants and farmers alike had retreated to their homes, looking forward to a warm meal and an early bedtime. A very select few were aware of the wedding that was to occur the following day, merging the enterprising Van Dort family with the ostentatious Everglots, and to be honest, very few cared. Even if they had spared a thought for the carefully orchestrated marriage; or for the young couple that were being thrust into such an arrangement; or for the nervous young man who, at that very moment, was fleeing from the wedding rehearsal in a frenzied panic, not one of them would have guessed the wild events that were to follow. No one could have guessed how that chain of events would end up affecting each and every one of them, and that their sleepy little town was about to be turned on its head.

A few hundred feet below, directly underneath an ancient cemetery, the Ball and Socket was just beginning to liven up. Liven up, of course, was a technical term, as each and every customer now sitting in the ramshackle pub was deceased, and most had been for quite some time. From so far below ground, it was impossible to see the sun, which made any sort of time-telling device unreliable. Death made time rather meaningless, so this was rarely seen as a problem. Still, there was a certain rhythm that most of the inhabitants of the town had become so accustomed to in life that they had carried it on in death, and there remained an atmosphere of night and day that coincided nearly perfectly with the passing of the days above ground. Each night, as the sun set on the living world, the residents down below flocked to the Ball and Socket to eat and drink, despite the fact that these behaviours were entirely unnecessary for a bunch of corpses.

When Bonejangles, bandleader and essential owner of the Ball and Socket, came into the pub, he found a small crowd spread throughout the establishment. The tall skeleton grinned and nodded at a few of the patrons, but hastened to the kitchen in the back. He pushed open the swinging door and was immediately hit by the heat and noises that came from the room as the kitchen staff ran about frantically, preparing putrid food for the upcoming rush. In the midst of it all, stirring a large pot that smelled of an odd mix of musty soil and lilac, was a short, plump woman in an oversized chef's hat.

"Hey, Ms. P," Bonejangles said, grabbing a chair from the corner of the room and straddling it, letting his bowler hat fall over his empty eye socket.

Mrs. Plum was generally a no-nonsense but kind woman, who spent most of her time preparing meals and looking after the old pub. She didn't like to be interrupted during the busy dinner rush, and fixed Bonejangles with an irritated glare before turning to grab a large box of salt from the counter behind her. "Can I do something for you or are you just here to make a nuisance of yourself?"

Bonejangles put a hand to his chest and dropped his jaw in a gesture of mock-offense. "Why, Ms. P! How could ya' think such a thing? I would never!"

The woman narrowed her eyes at him before dumping the entire salt box into the pot. "You would, and you do."

Bonejangles merely grinned amusedly, leaning casually on the back of the chair. "I guess you know me better than I thought." He saw that she was growing impatient with him, so he kept talking. "But, nah, I just came to ask if you'd seen Emily around?"

"Can't say I have," Ms. Plum replied, without looking up from her cooking. "Why?"

"Just haven't seen her. Usually she comes 'round the B&S before the rush."

"Well, I wouldn't blame her," the dead woman scoffed. "I don't know why a sweet young girl like that would want to spend her time with scoundrels like you and that band." She gestured sternly at him with the wooden spoon in her hand, thrusting it towards his ribcage.

Bonejangles was hardly offended by Ms. Plum's harsh words. Seeing as he and his Bone Boys spent most of their time harassing and otherwise irritating the old cook, it was only fitting that she spent most of her time deprecating them. Besides, he knew that deep down, the old broad was really fond of them.

"Anyway," he said, not bothering to respond to her jibe. "I went over to her place, but she wasn't up there either."

The stout woman, who had directed her spoon away from the skeleton to stir the contents of her pot once more, glanced back up at him, a knowing smile now etched across her features. "So, you've taken to stalking her, then?"

This time, the shocked look on Bonejangles' face was genuine. "What? She always comes 'round the B&S! I was… I was just worried, s'all."

Ms. Plum shook her head, the shrewd smirk still plastered on her face. "She's a big girl, Bonejangles. I'm sure she just took to wandering in the outskirts of town."

"Guess so." The skeleton rested his head on his bony hand and stared thoughtfully at the opposite wall. After a few moments in which the only sounds in the room were that of clanging pots and hissing entrées, he looked up. "You notice that Em's been kinda depressed lately?"

Ms. Plum gave a pensive hum, then answered, "She's always a bit gloomy, the poor dear."

Bonejangles couldn't argue with that. The dead bride had profound bad moods, but had learned to enjoy herself despite the horrible memories of her murder years ago. She was prone to short bouts of sadness, but she was usually fun loving and cheerful, even if it was partly due to her incessant hope of one day finding her "true love." Lately, though, she'd become withdrawn and dispirited. She was still at the Ball and Socket everyday, but even there she spent most of her time sitting at the bar by herself, reflecting sadly. Though she had refused to talk to anyone about what was bothering her, Bonejangles had been trying his damndest to cheer her up. He had even crooned to her shamelessly during one of the band's crowded late-night gigs in the hopes that she would come around, but all he had managed out of her was a very tiny appreciative grin that was followed by an immediate relapse into her former state.

"I dunno," he said. "Only time I seen her worse than this was right after she was killed, and that was a while ago."

Ms. Plum tapped her spoon on the side of the pot unconsciously. "I think that might be it."

"What? You think she's still upset about that Barkis jerk?"

She shook her head. "I meant she's upset because it's been a while." Bonejangles stared at her, his utter confusion evident on his face. Ms. Plum rolled her eyes at him. She spoke deliberately, as if explaining something to a slow child. "When Emily died, she vowed she'd find a man that would love her. It's been years now and she's not found him yet." The tone of her voice changed then. Oddly, it sounded almost accusatory. "It's no wonder she's depressed." She stared hard at him, as if he'd done something wrong.

Bonejangles was so startled by her sudden shift in mood that he was starting to wonder if he had stepped into an alternate dimension. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The short woman said nothing, but continued to glare at him with a look that reminded him vaguely of the one she gave him whenever he and the band drunkenly trashed the pub and "forgot" to pick up afterwards. This "you stupid idiot" look was the same in that he knew he was in trouble, and that he had absolutely no recollection as to why. Feeling somewhat nervous under her stare, he sheepishly said, "Well, I dunno what to do 'bout her man problems!"

Ms. Plum gave an exasperated sigh and turned away from him, muttering something that sounded like "oblivious twit."

The perplexed skeleton had no time to wonder about what crucial point he had missed, as there was suddenly a loud commotion from the bar. All eyes in the kitchen turned towards the door as a young, partially decomposed corpse bounded in, yelled, "Oi! Emily's back!" and darted back out as quick as he had come. Bonejangles and the kitchen staff exchanged bewildered looks, then rushed after man, anxious to see what all the fuss was about.

In the bar, all eyes were directed to the middle of the room, where a small crowd had gathered. Bonejangles pushed towards the group, craning his neck around the excited corpses. What he saw in the middle made his jaw drop. Emily kneeled on the floor, tenderly holding a young man in her arms. And although that man was unconscious, he was most certainly alive.

(Author's Notes: I hate when people have ridiculously long-winded Author's Notes in fanfic, so all I'll say is I hope you enjoy it, review if you feel like it, and if you see anything that needs to be worked on or improved, please, please, please, please let me know. More to come, probably longer chapters, no guarantees on when. And this is most certainly Bonejangles/Emily. Yum.

Also, formatting is horrible, and much different from when I used to post here ages ago. Raagh.)