AN: So glad I got this chapter finished and up, kinda proud that it's only the day after my last update.

Don't forget to review, makes my day.

Noon30ish: Thank you so much for your review! Good OC's(I'm actually really happy you consider Florence a good OC) are pretty hard to find in some categories. This one, admittedly, having a lot of bad ones.I do the same thing when I read, I sort of strike inspiration from good characters when writing my own original work. Thank you so much! J

Florence ran out into the halls as fast as her bare feet would move. She ignored the feeling of her dance shoes thumping on her collar bone as she did so. The hallways quickly opened up to the overwhelmingly high ceilings, windows were wide and sparse, and her feet scoffed on the floors more.

Her mind was racing, thoughts flowing as fast as her heart was beating. She couldn't stop herself from contemplating the possibility of Charis being right. What if she did actually save that young child, using her ability to call the adult instead of swaying the girl from the road? She tried to wrap her ideas around it- not understanding how. Could her voice have been heard by another by accident? Florence knew it couldn't have been on purpose, she put all of her focus on the child.

But, Charis suggested that it was possible. She was, after all, largely older than Florence. No, Florence didn't doubt Charis knew what she was talking about.

Except, what if she didn't. Charis might have more experience in being an immortal, but she didn't even know what Florence was fully capable of. What if Florence didn't even fully understand her gift then, that would explain the adult coming.

She shook her head, sending more hair out of its dark bun, Florence needed to keep moving.

It wasn't long until she reached the palace doors, bright red on one side and white on the other. The large doors loomed over her head, the door frame touching the high ceiling. She remember when she used to marvel at the door, among all the other workings of the palace, admittedly she still needed a moment to remember she was truly there.

She shut her eyes, taking a moment to picture the park she had been at during the brief incident.

A stray dove caught her eye once she opened them, flying past her and towards her previous location. One of Charis' spies, she assumed. Cupid, Florence had soon recognized, didn't have much faith that Florence would stay out of trouble. Charis especially liked to be informed when Florence would seldom see the other immortal Jack Frost. When she thought about it, most immortals didn't trust the spirit to not mess up their purpose. Charis must have assumed Jack would mess with the delicate power Florence dealt with. Only the Man on the Moon knew how many times Jack had accidently messed up Charis' aim when dealing with her love arrows, what with his frequent snowball attempts at getting believers.

Her head turned away from the dove when she couldn't see the feathers anymore. Pushing the surprisingly light door open, quiet creaks echoing in the large room, Florence jumped out of the Palace of Love.

A laugh bubbled up, as she fell, savoring in the sight of the night sky. She realized soon enough that she needed to raise her arms and the tulle, as the park she was at earlier neared. Closing her eyes, she lifted the pale limbs.

Only to realize she was holding her blanket from earlier, not the tulle she used to fly in the breeze.

"Ahhhhhh!" She shrieked, suddenly not enjoying the lack of ground.

Florence flailed her arms and feet, striking a position similar to the doves around the palace. She tossed the blanket away, watching as the breeze carried it away.

"Really?!" She shouted in anger. "You managed to carry my blanket but not me?!"

She shut her gray eyes, now largely below the palace. The last thing she saw was the Palace of Love disappear, Charis most likely going off to do her obligation.

Florence felt hopeless, after all she had been through in her new beginning, falling out of the sky and dying never crossed her mind. She remembered all the faces she saw, all the people she saved, and the responsibility she had. She didn't know what would happen without her, would the world go mad without her to balance it?

She couldn't help but snort, her closed eyes crinkled as she did. "Always have a large opinion of yourself , Mam always said."

Suddenly, a harsh blow to her side stopped her fall. The air was sent out of her as she heaved loudly.

"Now I know we're not the closest of friends, but did you have to try to crush me?"

Florence knew that voice.

"Snowflake! Wow, am I glad to see you!" She announced, opening her eyes and finding blue ones reflect her excited face.

She got of Jack, finding that instead of plunging to the ground, she had fallen on Jack while he was mid flight. She reached a hand down to help him up, only for him to use his staff.

"What were you doing back at the park?" She questioned, seating herself on the grass.

Jack rolled his eyes, "I wanted to see if-"

Florence interrupted, her voice growing louder than it already was. "Wait! I've to tell you something."

She ignored Jack mutter something.

"I discovered something new about my ability! At least I think I did." Florence added. "After you left, I was gonna stop this girl from going into the street and-"

Now it was Jacks turn to interrupt. "And then I saw it wasn't working and threw a snowball at a nearby adult. The snow got his attention and he saw the girl. You left pretty fast."

Jack didn't see Florence's face, as he smugly smiled. "You're welcome, by the way Cricket."

He also didn't see the shoes coming until after they collided with his chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You idiot!" Florence shouted, "I thought it was me who somehow called the adult, not you and your snow!"

She ripped the Pointe shoes out of his arms and hastily placed them back around her neck. Jack stared wide-eyed, and slightly amused, as she ranted.

"I thought I had gone and done something special as the Keeper, but noooooo! It was Jack bloody Frost who saved the day!"

Her anger, along with his amusement, disappeared quickly when her face started to wilt and tears appeared in her eyes.

"She was gonna die, in the end, if you hadn't helped." She pathetically whispered. "I'm still at fault."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked baffled at her sudden change in emotions.

"Never mind Jack, it's not important."

Jack shrugged, "Okay, fine then. If you don't wanna talk, then you don't wanna talk."

She peeked up at his indifference, watching as he took a step away from her.

"Wait!" She hastily stood, grasping his shoulder. "I'll tell you."

She ignored the smirk on his face as he turned around.

Florence plopped back on the grass, Jack leaning against his staff. She retold what she had said to Chairs, mentioning her current ability and what she didn't really tell people about it. She recounted the day in 1887 and how similar she felt to their current day. Sometimes she stopped talking and would look at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. He never gave one, just stared back at her with mild interest or played with snow as she spoke. She remembered Charis' range of expressions; Jack's lack of expressions caused her to stare at him more than she would admit to.

"Well?" She asked expectantly.

"Well what?" Jack replied, shrugging again. "It happened, you mourned, and you continue with your life as the Keeper."

Florence was left confused and annoyed. "That's it? 'It happened,' that's all you have to say?"

"Technically I said more-"

She raised her arm to silence him, "I poured my emotions you jerk!"

"No, you got upset because someone didn't believe in you."

Florence felt her arm drop. "What?"

She could see, now, the affect her words had on him. His wasn't exactly mirroring his previous self before she told him. His eyes were narrowed a bit, his shoulders squared, and his mouth in more of a frown rather than indifference.

"Florence, you're not dumb." He told her, not unkindly. "That girl just didn't believe you, that's why she couldn't hear you. It's my life every day for the past 241 years."

Florence didn't speak, observing him. She never thought about how he actually felt, about having no believers. As she had pointed out before, he was the literal form of snow; she always assumed he was being dramatic about his lack of believers. She realized she didn't actually understand Jack Frost at all, and he didn't understand her.