All was silence; it seemed that even the Yetis, elves and baby teeth were waiting with baited breath. Fable herself, had her hands resting on either side of the map, almost protective in a sense. Slowly, a smile stretched across North's face. His laugher echoed on the rafters of the workshop. "Of course malo volchitsy, your intentions are good, I feel it in my belly!"

It had been a long time since Fable had been called that. North had given her that nickname when they had first met. They had met after she had left Pitch, and Fable was on the hunt for answers about her past life. He had found her in the snow just outside his workshop, warming her hands over a fire that roared despite the fact that it was only fed by a meager stick, , hood drawn up. He confided that the first thing he noticed out of the blackness of the confines of her cloak was the golden hues of her irises. If anything, it was all he saw, the storm had managed to conceal the rest of her figure, and all that had been visible were her eyes. For a moment, North had thought her to be Pitch, but his eyes exuded a cold indifference, while hers held sense of warmth.

Upon closer inspection and the realization of the fact that Fable was not an enemy, North brought her into the workshop, and treated her to a plate of cookies and sipping chocolate. He confessed that upon first glance, he had mistaken her for Russian she-wolf he had seen in his first life. Since then, the title 'little wolf' had been North's name for Fable, though the knowledge spirit had wondered for the longest time if he had forgotten it. Hearing it now, she felt her heart warm slightly. "We've known each other for a long time Shelia, I've trusted you in the past, and I trust ya now more than ever."

Fable knew she could count on Bunny, they had a strange friendship, mostly built around a shared dislike for a certain winter spirit. Looking to Sandy, she found him giving her the thumbs up and nodding his head enthusiastically. Tooth smiled and Fable found herself being suffocated yet again by another hug.

All that was left was Jack; he stood off to the side, eyes focused on the map, his head shot up, he stared at Fable for the longest time, his usually playful blues calculating. At last, he shrugged indifferently, a toying smile tugging at his lips. "You got a kid to beat Pitch with a baseball bat, you're a stick in the mud, but anyone who achieves that has my trust."

Fable nodded. "Alright, I'm a stick in the mud, and you're a thick headed maddening ice brat."

Frost glared. "But I suppose for the sake of the children we can call a truce."

She held out her hand to seal the pact. Jack smirked. "Ooh what were you gonna do, write a stiff letter to the newspaper about me or something?"

That said he took her hand in his, shocked to find it warm to the touch, and refusing to the yield to his natural cold "Truce."

Fable held his hand in an iron grip, squeezing his fingers. "Don't underestimate me Frost, I may look like the classic librarian type, but my primary purpose and drive is to tell stories and collect knowledge, however the term 'knowledge' entails more than the expected book smarts. I've had a couple hundred years to master a few things, other than books."

Her grip tightened more, if that was even possible. At last Fable relinquished her hold and Jack pulled his hand away, cradling his crushed fingers and he glared down at the bookworm of a spirit, who gave him one last sickly sweet look and returned her attention to the other Guardians. "So, how would you guys like to make a few house calls? There is a little girl in New York dying to meet a certain icy individual."

Jack blanked, and glanced at the map, taking note of where Fable had placed her finger. Next to the iconic snowman were a name and a picture. "Lydia Lewis Saunders, age 13."

He read aloud, slowly he smiled. "Is this the one that hit Pitch with a baseball bat?"

Fable's eyes glinted with laughter. "The very same, she is a favorite of mine, Manny knows why she identifies with you the most."

Eyes rolling with annoyance and humor, she glanced up at Jack, her expression suddenly serious. "Though she does have a certain fondness for winter, snowball fights make the other children less incline to bully. And the holidays bring her mother home and away from work."

The Guardians stared and then turned their attention to the map. "You all need to keep in mind that some of these children have had painful lives, it took almost a year for me to coax Lydia into believing in not just herself but in a Guardian as well."

Jack had sobered; all playful childishness was gone and was he was left with a look of seriousness and understanding "Alright."

Taking up the map, Fable folded it delicately and placed it back into the confines of her pack "Good, now, how about a ride North?"

The Russian smiled and called for his coat and hat to be brought to him. It came born on an array of deranged elves, some of which ran into Fable's legs, watching the demonic little things warily. "I still can't believe you have the patience to harbor pyromaniac elves in your shop."

Pyromaniacs? Jack had heard the little buggers called many things, but never that. At her words North sighed. "Still not forgive me for that?"

Crossing her arms, Fable huffed. "Aye, and have you forgiven me for setting that priest's robes on fire?"

At that, he shook his head. "Then we're even!"

Author's Note: So this is my chapter of Curiouser and Curiouser written on Arion, my brand new laptop. Yes, I'm one of those people that names their cars, laptops and other inanimate objects... I also confess that I talk to the steam wand at work when it's being temperamental and I talk to the espresso machine when I'm cleaning it in the hopes that providing good conversation will keep it from burning me.

Ok, I admit this is a bit of a filler chapter, the really good stuff will be in the next few chapters, I am seriously imagining amazing battle sequences involving Pitch Black, I kid you not!

Anyway, I have managed to live through the first week of winter term, Christ I already have a project due in week three. Thankfully I have no big papers composed of 6-9 pages of work this term, unlike the last one. For now I am just pulling apart poem to identify form, structure, sound and figuration. Yes, I'm an English Major... An English major who may or may not minor in film studies of some form of folklore... I'm also thinking about teaching an Intro Shakespeare class at the local community college... Now you know some of my life plans.

Also, next month I'll be going to Wizard Comic-Con in Portland Oregon, I may meet Norman Reedus (Hot man with sexy arms!), Sean Patrick Flannery (Also very hot), and David Della Rocco (funny, not sexy). I'll be dressing as Lisbeth Salander from the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo... Maybe I will see one of my readers there eh?

So, you know the drill, comment and tell me what you think!