Jack stretched and heard his joints crack loudly as he did, a yawn escaping him. The skeleton let out a contented sigh as he stood from his bed, careful not to disturb the rag doll as she slept. Jack quietly took off his pajamas and changed into his usual fitted pinstripe suit. The slim skeleton adjusted his bat tie, and smiled as he noticed Sally cuddling his pillow through the mirror.

He turned around, gently kissed his girlfriend’s forehead, and exited the room, walking down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. He went all the way down to the basement that no one knew he had, where he stored his most prized possessions. The Pumpkin King was down there with the intention of some “spring cleaning” he'd heard of, and he was absolutely certain that he was going to get nostalgic about the things he kept safely hidden away down there and accomplish nothing, but he was going to try anyway, as was the spirit of things.

Jack pulled a rag out of his suit pocket to wipe the dust off the surfaces in his basement. He did actually get some dusting done, until he got to the chest he hadn't touched in centuries.

The skeleton’s expression softened gently as he unlocked and opened it. Inside was a blood red cape, a black shirt and pants that matched, and a pair of sturdy old boots and gloves. He smiled gently as he pulled what was once very form-fitting clothing out and held the cloth tenderly in his skeletal hands. Jack caressed the old cotton that he once wore, then gingerly brought the cape out of the chest as he set the shirt on the floor next to him. The skeleton laughed quietly to himself as he sat cross-legged on the floor, caressing the cape’s collar, then swinging it around and putting it on.

He leaned back into the chest, reaching in and tenderly pulling out the old leather bridle. The items of this chest brought back so many memories, some good, others that he wished he could forget. He wasn't fond of the memory of his death, nor the fact that he spent nearly a century searching for all the bits and pieces of his pulverized skull. But he had very much enjoyed his reign of terror during that century, and he'd especially enjoyed killing a certain scrawny man, one Ichabod Crane, if he remembered correctly, and his horse. The man put up much more of a fight than he'd expected, and he was oh so frightened, and toying with him was oh so easy and oh so much fun.

Some of Halloweentown’s older residents could call him a hypocrite, for implementing a rule against killing humans when he himself had killed so many in life and death, but he didn't care. He hadn't killed or maimed anyone since he made the rule, so he wasn't being hypocritical.

He set the bridle down on the shirt and the skeleton’s wide grin grew as he lifted his old sword out of the chest. Jack frowned when he couldn't see his reflection in it, getting up and hunting down the polish and his old blade sharpener (making a worse mess than had been there before in the process), and sitting back down to polish and sharpen his beloved sword.

During his life, Jack was the best there was at sharpening blades. No one could get a blade as sharp as he could, and thrice some of the more superstitious people he worked with and for accused him of witchcraft, which earned them a glare, brief plot against them, and a hack-job if they'd hired him for something.

Once the sword was sharpened and polished, Jack smiled at his handiwork, lightly tapping the edge of the gleaming blade and positively beaming when he yanked his finger away and saw the small cut embedded in his finger tip. The skeleton let out a manic little giggle and did a cute and dignified dance that he deny if asked ever. He looked at his skinless reflection in the sword, and smiled so wide one would think the edges of his mouth met on the other side of his head. He then turned sharply to face an old suit of armor pointing his sword at it as he shouted, “Engarde!”

The Pumpkin King began a game of lunging at the armor and dodging his “opponent's” imaginary thrusts of the dulled sword in the armors hand. After what felt like only a few moments of his game, but was really more like half an hour or an hour, Sally cleared her throat from the doorway and Jack froze mid job like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Jack?” Sally prodded, an amused tone in her voice and a poorly concealed smile on her face. The skeletons head slowly turned to face her, and for once he was very grateful for his lack of flesh and blood otherwise he was certain he'd be bright red in embarrassment. Sally had caught him behaving like a child! He was the scariest thing that goes bump in the night and here he was playing like a child with a new toy!

The ragdoll giggled lightly and stepped closer to him. “So this is what you meant by cleaning the basement?”

Jack’s perpetual involuntary smile was gone, his eye sockets wide in shock and embarrassment. “Depends,” the skeleton said when he found his voice again, “How much of that did you see?”

Sally giggled again, “Only about ten minutes or so. I didn't know you had a cape, or sword, or old suit of armor down here.”

Jack finally moved. He lowered his sword and turned to face his girlfriend more fully.

"Yeah, I do,” he said, sheepishly grabbing his forearm and glancing down slightly. “They're from, um, well, back-” his voice began to quiet and his words slur together, so all Sally caught was “when….i…”

She cocked her head to the side. “What?” Jack looked more towards the floor and repeated himself, barely slower and barely less slurred. The ragdoll’s shoulders slumped and she gave him a look that his head was just raised enough to catch.

The skeleton sighed, then repeated himself, louder and more clearly, “Back when I was the Headless Horseman.”

Jack kneaded his boney forearm and looked up at her nervously. He expected her to be shocked, but her features were painted with confusion. And slight worry.

“Headless…”Sally seemed to dwell on the ‘headless’ part for a bit too long, “Horseman?”

Jack sighed and nodded. And then it hit him, and he facepalmed. That's right. Sally didn't even exist all those centuries ago.

"Right, you aren't as old as I am,” he muttered mostly to himself. “Although,” he put a finger to his chin and gave her a quizzical look. "I am surprised that you weren't told about the Headless Horseman. Everyone gets told stories about the Headless Horseman.”

Sally shook her head. “Dr. Finkelstein never told me about a headless horseman.”

Jack frowned. "Well, the Headless Horseman was, in life, a mercenary, and during a human war, well, revolution, really, he got his head blown off by a cannon of the ones revolting. After he died, he took his horse and terrorized the countryside in search of his head or a suitable replacement for about a century or so.”

Jack looks anywhere but Sally as he spoke, and directed his attention to the floor as he added, “Please don't think any differently of me would you?”

When Sally didn't respond for a moment, the skeleton looked up nervously. He was half expecting her to fall to her knees and praise him like so many who found out that he was the infamous Headless Horseman had. He was unbelievably grateful when she didn’t.

"Why would I treat you any differently?” She asked simply, and again, Jack was immensely grateful that Sally had never really feared him nor had she worshipped the ground that he walked upon.

"Well, most people fall to their knees and praise me as a god, and honestly that just makes me really uncomfortable. Or they fall to their knees and chant ‘I'm not worthy’ again and again even after I ask them repeatedly to stop and then have to make my escape or on occasion run away in terror and hope I never find them.” Jack sighed.

" I didn't do that before I knew you were the Headless Horseman, and I'm not going to now it doesn't change who you are,” the ragdoll said reaching up her hand to his cheek, Jack smiled happily, dropped the sword wrapped his arms around her in an overjoyed hug and kissed her.

“Thank you, Sally,” he said when they parted.

"You're welcome, Jack,” she responded, nuzzling his boney shoulder with a smile.

~Fin~