Hey EVERYONE!

I know that I haven't been making a lot of updates recently, but let me tell you, I have been traveling nonstop across different states, and have barely had a single day or evening where I could sit down and write.

Plus the fact that I'm still trying to raise the $25,000 needed to go on a Missionary trip for a year in Europe, so I have also been attending conferences, and selling various types of merchandise at my booth in order to do that.

Needless to say…I've been busy.

BTW…Has anyone seen the movie Epic? I JUST watched it, and it truly lived up to its title! I am now a hopeless fangirl of Ronin…that dude is a BEAST!

Now that I'm done explaining myself, let's get on with the SHOW!

Pitch walked into his kitchen, his stomach growling as he suffered from a severe case of the munchies, but sighed when he realized that his cabinets and fridge were bare, and what little there was didn't seem very appealing. It had been four months since his hasty exit from the workshop after the almost kiss with Toothiana, and the Boogeyman had sunk into a depressed slump, unable to think or even function normally without memories of the past summer rearing up in his subconscious. As much as he hated to admit it, and he really hated to admit it even in his head, he missed them.

He missed the nightly playing of canasta with Bunny, joking and laughing, each one attempting to throw the other off his game so that they could gain the winning edge. He missed sitting in the living room with North, drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies, while North picked his brain for toy and gift ideas for the more serious children of the world. He even missed sleeping at night, and waking up to see Sandy hovering over him, sprinkling golden dream sand over both he and the winter spirit, giving him the first sweet dreams he had had in well over a few centuries. But most of all he missed Toothiana, her smile, her wit, the charming way her nose wrinkled when she laughed. Pitch smiled wistfully as he remembered they way her feathers glistened in the firelight, her lavender eyes staring right into his without the slightest hint of anger or disgust, the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips when he had cupped her face with his hand.

Suddenly Pitch reared his hand back and firmly slapped himself across the face hard enough to make the sound echo throughout the caverns "No," he hissed to himself "you are their enemy, and nothing more…they will never view you that way anyway, so stop acting like a fool!"

But the words did not penetrate his heart, and soon the Boogeyman slumped into an unhappy pile on one of the barstools lined around the breakfast island in the kitchen. Leaning forward and placing his chin on the cold stone countertop, Pitch let out a depressed sigh as his heart squeezed with the sorrow gripping it in its unrelenting claws. Who was he kidding? Certainly not himself, that was for sure. He enjoyed his summer with the Guardians, and his constant babysitting of Jack, plus his time spent with the other Guardians, he felt like the prodigal Uncle who could only stop by during the rare moments of free time, but was loved and accepted. He wanted it back; the golden moments of comfort and relaxed enjoyment in the company of others, the nights where he would retire to bed and say good night and actually have people to reply instead of the cold lonely echo of his caverns.

The Boogeyman let out a growl of frustration at the melancholy afflicting his senses, and softly beat his forehead against the countertop in a silent plea for things to start making sense, but it was then that he heard a strange noise. An explosion mixed with the sounds of tinkling bells, and the smell of fresh snow. One gray eyebrow rose as he considered whether he honestly wanted to go see what it was, before he rolled his eyes, and dragged himself away from the breakfast island.

"Anything is better than wallowing in misery," the Boogeyman muttered as he walked towards the noise.

Drifting towards the entrance of his lair, the dark specter stopped as his jaw dropped.

There sitting on the floor, dusted with soft snow, was a Christmas present wrapped in silver paper accented by blue stars and bow. Pitched plopped onto the floor and crossed his legs, bracing one elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his fist, the Boogeyman scrutinized the box, pursing his lips in careful thought. To be honest, there was a deeply imbedded primal urge that screamed for him to rip open the box and peek at was inside, but Pitch was above such things…at least he thought so. Instead he slowly and deliberately reached forward with his other hand and grabbed the card attached to said gift, his eyes narrowing as he saw what was written on it.

To: Pitch

From: G

"So it's from the Guardians," the Boogeyman murmured.

Looking up, the man gazed at his calendar to see it declaring tonight to be December 24th. Once again casting topaz eyes to the present sitting on the floor before him, Pitch heaved a sigh and delicately picked up the small box. "Easy now old boy," Pitch breathed softly "it's just a Christmas present, it isn't that important."

But his heart told him otherwise, this wasn't just a gift, this was a Christmas present from North aka SANTA CLAUS! This was something Pitch had never gotten before, and never thought he would ever get. Wincing, Pitch felt the smallest whimper escape his lips as he resisted the altogether childish urge to open said present with uncontrollable zeal, but that resistance came crashing down when the smallest beam of moonlight shone through the hole leading into his home, making the wrapping sparkle enticingly. With a growl of irritation at his inability to control himself, Pitch dove in, ripping the wrapping paper until he found a small wooden box masterfully crafted by hand. Each side of the box had a different carving of one of the Guardians, and on the top was an image of himself surrounded by stars. Pitch looked at the box in awe, his gray fingers stroking each detail as he admired the beauty. Placing it on his lap, he opened the box, hesitantly looking inside, and gasped when he found an envelope.

Opening it, he pulled out a letter, and with wide eyes began to read.

Pitch,

You have been quite good this year, helping with Jack, making friends with Bunny, so I give you a gift. No, the box is not the true gift, just a means to an end. If you want to know what the real gift is, meet us in Chicago at your favorite theatre at seven o'clock.

N.

Dropping the letter, Pitch began to pace back and forth, softly muttering to himself as he contemplated just what he should do. Should he go to the theatre? If he went he would see the Guardians again, and talk to Toothi- ah…no, that would be awkward, What if she didn't like him? What if she was offended by his forwardness in almost kissing her? Pitch paused, cocking his head in thought, well she didn't seem all that offended or upset since she was about to kiss him, but the probability of her not being too happy with him was still there! The boogeyman shook his head, pounding his skull with frustrated fists, his feet stomping as he wandered in a circle, what should he DO?!

"Oh for HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Pitch finally snarled, stomping his foot "I'm going!"

Melting into the shadows, the Boogeyman made his way to Chicago, gritting his teeth the entire way. Popping up in the middle of the street, the Boogeyman strode forward and looked up at the lights adorning the sign. A Christmas Carol was playing tonight, it was a play that Pitch had never seen, nor expressed any desire to see, but the Guardians were inside and they had gone through the trouble of sending him a message in an elaborately carved box, so if it meant suffering through a play that he had sworn never to watch to see if they were serious about giving him a gift in good will, then so be it. With a heavy sigh, the dark man walked into the theatre and up the familiar flight of stairs towards his favorite balcony, what he saw there struck him speechless.

The balcony had been transformed, instead of dusty cobwebs and half-finished carpentry work, there were hundreds of decorations. A huge Christmas tree stood in one corner while a pile of presents exploded from the bottom, a table had been set with enough food to feed an army sitting on top, the smell of which caused Pitch's mouth to water. Twinkling lights, plush furniture, and gleaming fabrics covered the balcony, making it look like a cozy living room while a magical fireplace burned cheerfully in the back wall. And sitting in the middle of all of it were the Guardians, drinking, eating, and laughing, none of which had noticed he had arrived until Tooth turned towards the door.

"PITCH!" she exclaimed zipping over to him happily "You came!"

"Y-Yes," Pitch stammered his eyes still wide and his brain still reeling from shock "I did, though I'm still not sure why."

"Well duh," Jack rolled his eyes sarcastically "it's Christmas, and families come together for Christmas so that they can show off their ugly sweaters and laugh about stupid stuff that no one actually remembers."

"Ya have a weird interpretation of Christmas, ya know that freezer burn?" Aster deadpanned earning a playful glare from his younger adopted sibling.

North however laughed out loud at Jack's candor "Yes!" he bellowed excitedly "Families come together for Christmas, and since this is our first Christmas as family, we celebrate at place where it all started."

"F-Family?" Pitch sputtered his chest heaving as he began to hyperventilate from the sheer impossibility of what was happening "This…This has got to be some kind of joke, right? A really sick…cruel…unfair, joke!"

"Why would it be a joke?" Tooth murmured gently placing a delicate hand on his trembling shoulder "I told you didn't I? That we can be your family, if you want us to be."

"Yeah mate," Bunny nodded "granted, some pretty awful things have been done…on both sides, but I'm with Tooth and agree that a time for a truce and a clean slate is now, but it all depends on if ya want it."

Suddenly Pitch's vision went fuzzy, and his world tilted. Falling against the wall, Pitch slid down to the floor, his hands gripping his hair "This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this should NOT be happening!"

Sandy looked at the man who was currently a quivering, disbelieving heap on the floor, and realized for the first time how badly he had been broken, by all of them. Drifting over, the golden man placed a comforting hand on Pitch's shoulder, waiting until the Boogeyman looked up before speaking in his usual way.

"It is happening Pitchiner," he wrote "and I'm so sorry we did not do this sooner."

Heat stung the back of his eyes, and Pitch felt his throat begin to constrict. Covering his face with his hands, the Boogeyman breathed deeply repeatedly until those feelings left, before once again standing up and facing the Guardians.

"Well," he began, clearing his throat when his voice cracked "let's not waste the food by talking."

Bright smiles lit the faces of all the Guardians, and soon they were sitting around the table, each talking and laughing until the music began causing each of them to scurry over to the large couch set up near the railing. Pitch sat in a large armchair, his eyes taking in every detail as he watched the play unfold concerning a miserly old man who lived in self inflicted exile, eaten alive by his bitterness and hate. The boogeyman smiled, seeing the parallels between himself and Scrooge, each have lived a life full of loneliness, yearning for love and companionship, but too prideful to admit it. Soon Scrooge was being haunted by the ghost of his long departed business partner Marley, making Jack jump when the ghost appeared in Scrooge's bedchamber, shrieking and clattering his chains. Pitch caught the scent of fear, and raised an eyebrow at the boy. Jack merely gave him an embarrassed smile, and turned back to the show.

Marley began to tell Scrooge about how the past could wrap you in chains, but he could find freedom if he changed his ways now and made a clean slate for himself. The idea gave Pitch pause, could he do that as well? The Guardians were more than willing to accept him despite past differences, and wanted to move on, no longer living in hatred for one another, but could he forgive himself and accept the hand that has been outstretched to him, taking a hold of a new lease on life with family and friends? Soon Scrooge was flying high above London, being taken captive by his first ghost and thrown into the memories of his past, making Pitch wonder about his own past. Who was he, really? Jack had been born as a spirit without his memories, and he remembered that all Guardians were someone before they became who they were, so who was he? Was he a man of honor, or was he as evil as he was right now? The Boogeyman didn't know, and it made chew his bottom lip in careful thought, what kind of man was he in his mysterious past, and could it be possible that he could be a better man in his future?

The intermission came shortly after Scrooge sat weeping on the stage over the lost love, friends, and memories he had sacrificed for worldly gain, and the house lights came on leaving the audience blinking owlishly at their brightness.

"So frostbite," Bunny said with a playful cuff to Jack's head "ya feelin' sleepy? Cause there's a bet we made with ya in spring that hasn't been resolved yet."

"Oh no, kangaroo," Jack scoffed "it's the dead of winter, meaning I'm more hyperactive than a squirrel on crack, no way am I falling asleep this time!"

"Maaaybe," Pitch said slowly as a smirk quirked one side of his mouth "but this is merely the intermission, meaning the end is yet to be seen."

"I'm NOT. Falling. ASLEEP!" Jack said forcefully his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Pride goeth before the fall," Pitch intoned sagely causing Bunny and Tooth to snicker.

"Yeah, and a fool who keeps his mouth shut is considered wise!" Jack shot back.

"Oh?" the dark specter snickered "So what does that make you?"

"THAT-" suddenly Jack realized his blunder and he face palmed with a loud slap.

Bunny melted into a round of laughter, his paws holding his quivering sides "He got ya there mate!" he guffawed.

"Boys," Tooth shook her head grievously "they never grow up, they only get bigger."

"You know what they say," Sandy chuckled silently "the only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," the fairy giggled.

Soon the play once again continued, and the group sat in awe over the acting, and music, but the part that held Pitch's attention was the third ghost. It's dark billowing robe, and skeletal pointing finger, plus the way it showed Scrooge his future with unwavering honesty made Pitch feel his heart freeze in his chest. What was his future? Was he destined to find his future in a shallow grave all alone with no one to even grieve that he was gone? Standing up, the man walked away from his seat, and stood in the doorway leading down to the stairs, and Tooth quickly followed him.

"Pitch, is everything ok?" she asked softly.

"I…" Pitched paused unsure as to whether he should be honest with the fairy, but one look into her concerned lavender gaze urged his tongue forward "I'm not sure."

"What's wrong?" she pressed.

"Well…" Pitch took a deep breath then sighed, curse this female and her ability to draw the truth out of him "I wonder if that will be me, doomed to a life of loneliness and despair."

"Maybe it was a year ago," Tooth smiled gently one hand squeezing his arm comfortingly "but I don't think it is now. Besides, have you even been watching? This is about a man who turns his life around, and becomes better for it. At the very end, the narrator will talk about how no one even remembered him as the cranky, miserable man he used to be, but he died surrounded by friends and family. That can your future too, surrounded by people who care about you."

"D-Do you really think so?"

Tooth reeled back, her heart breaking at the sorrowful topaz eyes staring into her very soul, the smallest glimmer of hope flickering in their depths, like a candle about to go out without someone to protect it from the harsh winds. With a smile, the fairy cupped her hands around his face, and gently stroked his cheek with a thumb.

"I know so," she whispered.

"Tooth," Pitch whispered "there's something I want to say, but I don't know how you will take it."

"What is it?" The fairy murmured back softly.

"You…" Pitch opened his mouth, suddenly wanting to burst out and tell her she was the most wonderful creature to ever walk the Earth, and that he couldn't stop thinking about her for even a second for the past four months, but his mouth immediately dried and his breath caught in his throat almost making him choke. Changing his mind at the last minute, the Boogeyman gave a nervous chuckle "…You're standing under mistletoe."

"I am?" The fairy replied slyly "Well, you know the tradition, and I'm never one to break tradition."

"W-Wait…!" Pitch gasped his eyes going wide as he tried to backpedal away from her, but couldn't due to the fact that she still held his face firmly in her hands "Th-that's not what I meant-!"

All further protest was cut off when Tooth pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering longer than necessary at the contact before drawing away "Merry Christmas Pitch,"

As she rejoined the Guardians watching the play, Pitch stood hyperventilating in the corridor, feeling like all air had been sucked from his body. It was painful, but exhilarating, and the Boogeyman now sported a loopy grin the size of a continent across his face.

"I love Christmas…" he giggled deliriously.

"Pitch stop goofing off and hurry up!" Jack hissed "You're gonna miss the ending!"

"Coming!"

With secret smile and a slight blush, the Boogeyman took his first step into his new future, with the Guardians as his friends, allies, and even family, Pitch suddenly found his future not so lonely anymore. Sure they were bound to eventually have domestic squabbles concerning his job versus their job, but he was sure they would work it out, and Pitch was determined to make it work, because now that he had tasted the sweet nectar of family, he was officially a hopeless addict with no hope of rehabilitation.

THE END.

How did you guys like Pitch's Passion?

Mystic, feel free to gush, squeal, and swoon in a helpless puddle heap, I am patiently waiting with a shovel and a wheelbarrow.

Ok, now REVIEW!