On her way home Hazel still felt amused by the very idea. There were lots of wild rumors flying around her and Pitch, she got pretty much used to that. Spirits, like anyone else, loved a good gossip, and the recent changes - and recent in this world was anything from last week to the last couple of centuries - well, the recent changes in the powerful Boogeyman's life were a gold mine. The potential of creating the stories was almost infinite, though - or maybe because - their real every day life together was much more... mundane.

However as she was thinking about it all, she felt that this particular rumor was way too rich to simply retell. Hazel's eyes flashed by mischief.

It was late afternoon, long hours before Pitch would leave for his nightly duties. For now there was peace and quiet in the Lair, the crispy autumn air in the outer forest warmed here, in the underground halls by bright fire in the hearth. As the Boogeyman had nothing in plan in particular for now, he was glad to find Hazel there, back from her journeys outside.

But something simply wasn't right, he realised the moment he went through the door. She barely looked at him, watching the flames in the fireplace.

She looked somewhat sad and that was something Pitch was never taking very well. It always felt like they had enough of that for a lifetime.

"Did something happen?" he asked, leaning down to where she was curled up in her armchair.

Hazel sighed and reached for his hand: "You could just tell me, you know..." she said with a palpable hurt in her voice.

"Tell you what?" he raised an eyebrow, quickly going through any recent events he might had forgotten to tell her about.

She looked up at him with a wide doe eyes, an image of vulnerability and fragility. That... wasn't something that would normally happen... or ever. Pitch flinched a bit under her gaze.

"I mean, I could understand. Not exactly welcome it, indeed, but understand yes... If you need something else, something new to... explore other... horizons..."

"Explore what?" he looked genuinely confused, "Hazel, you'll need to be more specific. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Now she stood up, walking closer to the fire. "I could see that coming, I suppose," she said quietly, almost just for herself, "Jack is charming enough, you two certainly share some history together... And he has spent a lot of time here lately..."

There was a dead silence behind her back. Was she really insinuating what it looked like? Pitch felt suddenly short of breath. It was a jest. A silly jest, right? She would never believe anything so riddiculous... It had to be a game... Or she had gone insane...

Hazel could literally hear the gears in his head turning and had to bite her lip to not laugh. She turned back to look at him again:

"It's just sad I had to learn from someone else... That I'm not enough to you anymore," she concluded, putting just enough of pain, jealousy and acceptance to the tone.

Pitch opened his mouth and closed it again, momentarily at loss of speech. She could see shock, horror and outrage quickly running across his face, settling finally at offended anger: "You can't be possibly serious, Hazel. It's not like I would ever-" even the thought felt so outrageous to be finished, "I could never- and with Frost, out of all people!"

"What could you never?" she made those few steps closer, placing a hand over his chest, "Betray me? Go stray in the shadows behind my back?"

He took a sharp breath, ready to defend himself, to scold her for such impostrous accusation - but the corners of her lips twinged, a glimmer of laughter flashed in her eyes.

He leaned closer: "You," he hissed, "are impossible."

"But you did believe the act for a moment," she chuckled, letting the role go finally.

"How on Earth did you even come up with such a story?" he shook his head, his wrath slowly dissipating.

"Well," she sat back down, pulling him with her, "I did not. I heard it from Jack himself-"

"Why would he-?!"

"Let me finish," she reproved him, "Who, poor thing, had to suffer through it on one peculiar fairy tea party."

Pitch breathed out finally: "So we are once again subjected to the gossip, aren't we."

Hazel chuckled again, resting her head against his shoulder: "Indeed, but ain't it gold this time. You, my love, with your tragic lonely story and your quest for love and warmth, with the surprisingly accepting, steady me on one side, and the mischievous, thrilling winter spirit on the other..."

Finally, Pitch laughed with her: "You are all the thrill and mischief I could ever ask for, my dear."