Chapter 2...even though I wasn't going to do it :) But it's Jack Frost...that and I just saw a commercial of Martin Short appearing on Dave Letterman while waiting for Craig Ferguson. Here you have it; I hope whoever is reading this likes it. It's much fluff...IT'S SO FLUFF-EY!

Don't own Santa Clause or any of it's characters except my OC, blah blah

Or Martin Short...

Or Jack Frost-whom I'm GONNA own one day! :D

The piano music sounded down the hall. I followed the noise, knowing who it was that was playing. When I reached the room I stood in the doorway, watching her play the piano. She swayed along with the music, her eyes closed and face relaxed. It looked almost as if she were sleeping; undisturbed and peaceful. My heart would have fluttered at the sight if it weren't a frozen block. I wished, when I was around her, that I wasn't Jack Frost. Jack Frost wasn't allowed to love. If he loved, his heart would melt and I knew I couldn't let that happen.

"It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line, tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood." Her voice was soft and melodic, flowing with the notes of the piano. I blinked slowly, trying to savor the sensation flowing through my veins. "Standing right in front of me was, a little boy waiting anxiously. Pacing 'round like little boys do, and in his hands he held a pair of shoes." I knew this song. She sang it every Christmas since she was nine. That trait drew me to her so fast it was blinding; her taste for melancholy. "His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe, and when it came his time to pay, I couldn't believe what I heard him say." At thirteen she told me she hated the concept of Christmas. She said that it only served well for those who had money to buy the gifts, but it was nothing more than a reminder of what people didn't have for others. It was strange to believe that she was the daughter of someone as 'jolly' as Santa Clause.

"Don't you ever sing anything cheerful?" I asked, cutting her off mid chorus. She froze, her fingers above the keys and the note dying out. It almost looked like she turned into a statue. Then slowly she looked back at me.


"You always sing something so…sad…or depressing. Aren't you ever in a mood for anything hopeful?" I walked slowly toward her and her face burst into a wide smile. She looked so beautiful when she smiled. I wondered, sometimes, how it was that she held me so close as a friend. How she could stand the bitter cold when I would put my arms around her.

"I'm surrounded by cheerfulness twenty-four seven. I enjoy feeling other emotions sometimes." She instinctively moved over to make room for me, even before I came close enough to sit. But I did, and I sat closer than I needed to, her shoulder now pressed tightly against mine.

"Can you sing something for me? That's not Christmas-ie?" she laughed lightly, putting her fingers back on the keys.

"So…did my dad lie again?" the question didn't surprise me. I played with her hair a little, growing small icicles to match mine.

"I'll tell you if you play me a pretty song." I bargained. She rolled her eyes, the smile not leaving her lips.

"You promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" she snorted in response. Truth was; I lied very few times to her. Still she began to play, and the tune was different, maybe less depressing, but more forceful and cold.

Again her voice rang through the room. She could always sing so beautifully. And when I was around, she had a tendency to sing about snow, or frost…or me in general. I let my eyes close and listened to the music and her voice, losing myself in her presence. I wished, for a moment, that I was human. That I wasn't a sprite, or a season. That I wasn't so cold and bitter and selfish. I wished that she wasn't Clause's daughter and I wished that I could hold her without making her shiver. She let the last note ring and I opened my eyes to find her staring at me expectedly.

"That wasn't exactly cheerful." I said and she made a face, sticking her tongue out at me. "No…she wasn't looking for me. Or if she was I couldn't find her." A long and heavy sigh escaped her lips and she leaned her head against my shoulder, playing halfheartedly with one hand the tune to 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas'.

"You've been nothing but…nice to me. Ever since I met you…he has absolutely no reason to…" she trailed off. I snaked my arm around her waist and her shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing.

"Well in all fairness, you joined my elf army before you did his." I pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed and looked up at me. Warm, brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. For a while she just looked at me, her lips pink and full, lips I would have loved to kiss. A sudden shiver ran through her body and I wanted to retract my arm from her…but how could I, when she was looking at me so sweetly.

"Just promise you won't ever leave me ." She finally whispered. I was Jack Frost…I couldn't make that promise. So instead I touched her cheek and smiled little.

"You look tired…when was the last time you slept?" something cold shone over her eyes. But she still smiled at me and ever so slightly leaned into my touch.

"I don't know…I'm not sleepy." She replied. I chuckled and brushed her hair back behind her ear. She closed her eyes at the gesture. She was in love with me. Why would she be in love with someone like me?

"Then how about we get you to bed." I suggested. She sighed and got off the bench, walking to the door with her hands in her pockets. I remained sitting, watching her. She paused before exiting and turned back to me.

"Well? You coming?" I stared at her with a frown. She smiled again. "You said 'we' get me to bed." A slow smile lined my lips. I stood slowly, giving her one of my mischievous looks. She backed away in cautious steps, grinning back at me playfully. "Frost Face…" Without warning I ran after and with a loud squeal she turned and bolted out the door. It was an unspoken game of tag, and I was it. I only caught up with her at the last second when she ran into her room, and grabbing her around the waist I fell with her on the bed.

"Caught you!" I huffed as she tried desperately to wrench herself out of my hold, laughing hysterically. But I held her tight against the bed and managed to pin her arms down by the wrists and legs with my knee. She stared up at me, still laughing lightly, her eyes sparkling. Gradually I loosed my hold on her wrists and moved my knees from her legs so as not to harm her. A sudden urge to kiss her rose in my stomach and scared by my own desire I quickly moved off her and sat on the edge of the bed. She groaned, chuckled, and rolled off the bed to go to her closet.

"Think you'll stay here, for the night?" she asked, slipping out of her jeans and sweater. It was as if she didn't care I was in the room with her.

"Last time I spent the night with you, you ended up with pneumonia." I pointed out, watching as she pulled on thick pajama pants and a sky blue shirt a size too big.

"That was because I spent the day outside without a coat…not because you slept next to me." She said, walking to me with determination. "Please spend the night here?" She begged, straddling my lap, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. I stared up at her, almost shocked at her behavior. But this wasn't the first time she's done this.

"On one condition…" I murmured. She cocked her head to the side, letting me know without words that she was interested. "You sleep under the covers, and I sleep over them…and you use two blankets." She rolled her eyes at that and flopped off me on the bed.

"I'm not gonna catch a cold from you!" She said, but crawled under the thick, feather blankets. "And even if I did…it'd be worth it." She added. I waited patiently and got up to turn off the lights. For a moment I just wanted to leave, go back on my word so I wouldn't have to be near her. So I wouldn't have those thought of love. But I returned to the bed and lay beside her, the bed creaking at the weight of two people. "You won't be cold?" she asked softly. I chuckled quietly.

"I'm Jack Frost." I reminded her, feeling her arm wrap around my midsection, her head resting on my chest. Immediately I brought up the covers to cover her shoulders. I could practically see her smiling bemused at my action. A short few minutes later I was relaxed and comfortable, my eyes closed and listening to Deirdre's soft breathing. "Can you sing another song?" I requested.

"Jack…" She mumbled her protest, already half asleep.

So I lay beside her, feeling her shivers…feeling like I was sucking the very warmth from her. Warmth…I've never been warm. Not since I could remember. I had always been cold, in every aspect of the word, to a subzero body temperature, an icy breath, frozen heart and a bitter spirit. But Deirdre was the opposite of everything I was; she was a thriving. She was human and living and above all; warm, despite her taste for bitter things in life. And it was killing me that I couldn't be with her in any way; not without harming her. Or harming my name. But that was that. I was Jack Frost; the selfish winter who wanted a holiday for himself. And she was Deirdre Clause, the daughter of a warm, jolly Santa Clause.

Do review if you're reading would most certainly make my day.

Oh and before I forget; I don't own the song. Christmas Shoes is NewSong property