Fairy Tale Colors: Orange

Three hours later they pulled into the small town that wasn't even on the map and eyed it dubiously. The houses were built mostly of stone, and if they didn't know better they would have sworn they'd just pulled into a hamlet.

"This place sure is weird," Jack commented. "Well, there's a sign up a ways for an inn. We should probably get checked in before we do anything else."

"Good idea," Gemma agreed. "The last thing we'd need is to have no place to crash after attending this wild party we're in store for."

"Like you'd ever go to a wild party," Jack snickered.

"I've never been invited to a wild party, so how would I go to it?" she pointed out.

"Hmph, I didn't know that," he said. "I just assumed you wouldn't want to go."

"Eh, you're probably right," she grumbled. "I'm married to my job, why would I want to have any fun?"

"Maybe I'll take you out sometime," he suggested dryly. "Just as friends, of course."

"Of course," she responded dismally. She had almost had a chance to be excited for all of about three seconds there. Life really sucked sometimes.

When Jack returned, he had an uncertain look on his face.

"What's up?" Gemma asked him.

"Only one room left," he said. "Apparently this thing's more popular than we thought."

"I'll take the floor," Gemma offered before Jack could.

"You'll do no such thing," he commented. "What kind of a man would I be, letting you sleep on the floor instead of the bed?"

Gemma sighed. "Tell you what, we'll worry about it when we get back."

"Fine," he agreed, and led the way back out to the van.

"Wow, I never knew a place like this would have so many people just for one night," Gemma said as the two of them squeezed their way through the crush of people that surrounded them. "It's really difficult to get to the mayor's house with all these people in the way. Too bad we weren't allowed to drive through. What good are these press passes, anyway?"

"Calm down, woman, we'll get there in plenty of time," Jack soothed her. "The festival proper doesn't start until five, and it's only four now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said with a grimace. "But I sure hope it doesn't take the whole hour to get there."

"Look, cotton candy," Jack said temptingly. "Let's get some."

"It'll make our fingers sticky," she warned. "How are you supposed to operate your camera with sticky fingers?"

"Very carefully," he chuckled as he tickled her ribcage. "See, these fingers are nimble. They can handle anything."

"I'll bet," she said with a slight blush. Jack circumspectly cleared his throat and turned to buy them each a big, fluffy cone.

"Yum," she said as she picked off a chunk of hers. "You got me blue and you pink. That's weird."

Jack smiled. "You like blue."

"And you like pink," she chuckled. "Talk about opposites."

"That's what makes the world go 'round," he told her, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Is it really?" she inquired sweetly.

"We're here," he said as they stepped into the front yard of a rather large stone home.

"Kinda creepy, isn't it?" Gemma asked as they looked at all the dead trees and jack o' lanterns that covered the whole thing.

"I think they're all gifts," Jack commented. "It's still kinda creepy," Gemma said.

Then the mayor and his wife stepped outside, and people milled all around them again. Gemma pushed her way to the front with Jack in tow, and he started filming as the man himself gave a speech.

"Halloween is a wonderful time of the year here in Sleepy Hollow," he said. "At times like this we remember how grateful we are that danger lurks only once a year these days, not like it used to be. And for that, we offer our thanks to God Almighty, who sent an angel into our midst that fateful day so many years ago. If not for Ichabod, the horseman would continue to ride every night. And so we offer our thanks to the hero of that day, and to his ancestor you now see before you—me."

"Wait, sir, you are the ancestor of Ichabod Crane?" Gemma asked, completely shocked.

"That's right, ma'am," he told her. "Now you all have a pleasant evening. And remember, don\'t stay out too late tonight. Halloween is not the night to be out too late."

"Sir? Sir!" Gemma called after him, but the man disappeared into the crowd. "Well, there you have it, folks, Sleepy Hollow\'s current Crane, ready to take on Halloween night yet again. This is Gemma Ross for WKPM news."

"Come on, Gemma, you've rested long enough," Jack said as he returned to her side yet again. "I've got all kinds of candid shots. It's time to scare up a few interviews. I'm sure there's plenty of folks around here who would jump at the chance to be on television."

"Oh, all right," she grumbled. "At least that will keep you away from that pair of teeny-boppers you've been talking to for the last half hour."

"Hey, I was just doing my job," he grumbled. "You'd be amazed how many stories are still kicking around this place about the horseman."

"Really? What did they tell you?"

"I'll tell you what they said," an old man commented as he appeared beside them as if from nowhere. "They said you should leave well enough alone, that's what they said. Every person here knows that the legend is based in fact, my friends. Soldiers came here, that's true, but it wasn't a war they were looking for, it was silver. The rarest silver ever—a special kind, harder than steel. But they couldn't find it, you see, because the mines had already provided their yield, to the walls of these very houses that you see now."

"They're all made of silver?" Gemma asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "When the general learned of his loss, he sent his troops in to the village to rape and pillage. Most of them were subdued, with only a few exceptions, and when the mayor heard what the general had done, he told the governor himself. They took the general out onto the knoll up yonder, and cut off his head with the very blade that had brought him here. One made from the silver that he sought."

"That's horrible!" Gemma exclaimed.

"They say that this night is also known as the Day of the Dead—and souls come alive among the living. Well, I believe they are right. Least ways, they're right about the general. Every Halloween he returns, looking for heads. But not just any heads, mind you. He's looking for the heads of his dead soldiers' ancestors. Some say maybe he's trying to regroup his army so he can go after the silver again, but others think it's just bloodlust. Either way, you don't want to be standing outside of stone walls after eight-thirty, or you might be finding out the answers. He may desire the heads of the ancestors, but he'll take yours just the same."

"That's crazy," Jack told the man, moving to stand between him and Gemma. "You shouldn't be trying to frighten her like that."

"It's well she should be frightened, if the two of you don't heed my words," he said. "We don't need any more deaths in Sleepy Hollow—not even those of a couple of lowly newshounds."

"Thanks for the advice," Jack said with a frown. "We'll take it under advisement."

Several interviews later, it was getting close to eight o'clock and Gemma's feet were getting tired. She asked, "How far away from the inn would you say we've walked?"

"I don't know, it's hard to say," Jack answered. "I think it'd be a good idea to start heading that way, though, don't you?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I'm completely exhausted."

A good half hour of straight walking later, the two of them reached a bridge where they stopped to rest. Before they'd sat for more than a few minutes, however, the air was split with a gut-wrenching sound somewhere between a scream and a wail.

"What was that?" Jack exclaimed, instinctively looking at his watch. "Eight-thirty."

"Um, just to be on the safe side, we'd better head for that old abandoned church," Gemma said, trying not to appear as panicked as she felt.

"You're probably right," Jack agreed as calmly as he could. They started to walk at a leisurely pace, but as they heard hoof beats off in the distance, their speed increased. By the time the hooves reached the bridge, the two of them were running at full speed. Another bellowing wail sounded too close behind them.

"The gates are chained!" Gemma shouted as she yanked on them uselessly. Looking behind her, she saw a man on horseback wielding a long sword. "Climb over! Now!"

She didn't have to tell Jack twice, and they were soon on the other side.

"We may not be safe yet," Jack told her as she paused to stare. "Get inside that tomb."

"You want me to go inside a grave?" she gasped in shocked dismay.

"Do it now!" he ordered, practically dragging her along behind him. The distinctive sound of metal being chopped through by metal hastened their steps greatly. Soon, they were closed inside the squat stone structure that housed roughly ten enclosed graves along one wall.

"Who the hell was that guy?" Gemma wanted to know. "Must be some crazy person who's reenacting the legend. I sure hope nobody else is out there."

"Yeah, and it's a good thing we made it safely in here, too."

Gemma shivered as she leaned against one of the walls about an hour later. Periodically, they heard the howling scream yet again, assuring them that they would be trapped inside here for some time. Jack rubbed his own arms as well, and said, "We should make a fire."

"Won't it eat up all the air?" Gemma asked worriedly as she watched him move to gather anything that would burn and start piling it up. She got up to help in spite of her misgivings.

"I think there's some kind of vent in this place," he said. "People used to come in here with torches—see the sconce? They'd put the torch in that to light up the room so they could read the gravestones."

"How do you know?" she asked him.

"Educated guess," he said. "Plus I once worked on a horror movie, and that's what they did on a set similar to this."

"You worked on a movie?" she said in surprise. "I didn't know that. I guess there's a lot I don't know about you."

"You never asked," he pointed out in a voice that mimicked hers when she'd said something similar.

"Point taken," she said with a blush. "So, since we haven't asked and there's plenty of time to kill, why don't we share?"

Jack laughed. "You first," he said as he lit the pile of stuff and then lit his cigarette with the same lighter.

Gemma blushed again as they sat down near the makeshift campsite, next to each other but not touching as per usual. "Fine, but there's really not that much to tell. I live in a two bedroom apartment with my cat and my computer. The computer has its own room because it likes its privacy. The cat has taken over my room because he thinks he owns the place. My favorite pastime is watching the news or hunting up more news. That's pretty much it."

"A very simplified life," Jack said with a smile. "I envy you."

"Why, is yours not so simple?" she inquired.

"Well, I'm a divorced father of a really great teenaged daughter, and whenever I'm not at work I spend my time either talking to her on the phone or having her over to my place for visits. She lives with her mother, but given a choice I'd keep her in a heartbeat because her mother pretty much ignores her in favor of whatever man-of-the-week she's with," he said, making a disgusted face at the last of it. "Also, my favorite pastime is making amateur movies, but none of them have ever won awards or anything like that. They're just for fun."

"I'd love to see them sometime," Gemma said. "And your daughter, too. It must be nice to have one of those. I've never had the opportunity, myself. Like I said, I'm married to my job."

"So, there's nobody you've wanted to go out with?" Jack asked curiously.

Looking into the fire, Gemma tried to look casual as she said, "Well, there's this guy I've liked forever, but it seems like he's always flirting with every other girl he sees, so I don't know if he could ever be serious with me."

"Whoever he is, he'd be crazy to be anything but serious about you," said Jack, and then he looked nervously into the fire as well. "Maybe he flirts with all those girls to see if you'll get jealous. Maybe he's hoping you would make the first move. Some guys are like that."

"I—I'm not a real first move kind of a girl," she answered, practically whispering, as she felt the tension building up between them.

"What kind of a girl are you, then?" he asked on a whisper as well as he turned his face to hers, and realized how close together they had become. Their lips crushed together, and then he pulled her up against him hungrily.

"The kind of girl that has wanted you to do that for a long time," she said against his lips.

"You never asked," he teased her, and the two of them cuddled together by the fire, continuing to talk and to touch over the next several hours.

Gemma opened her eyes and realized she must have dozed off at some point. She was lying in the curve of Jack's arm with her head resting on his chest. When she looked up at his face, their eyes locked together and held.

"Good morning, beautiful lady," he said with a smile.

"Is it morning already?" she asked sleepily.

"Yes, it is," he said. "Ten o'clock in the morning. We should have been on the road back by now. The boss is likely to have our butts in a sling when we get there."

"Great," she grumbled as she sat up. "There goes my promotion."

"Do you really want to make anchor that bad?" he asked.

"I've been working this long and this hard for that spot," she said. "Of course I want to make anchor. And if I do, your paycheck goes up right along with mine."

Jack laughed. "A true newshound, through and through. Well, don't worry too much, I already called and told the powers that be what happened. They're already hoping that next year we'll come back and get a shot of the horseman himself."

"They can keep right on dreaming," Gemma said. "As of now, we are officially leaving Sleepy Hollow way behind."

"So, when we get back home—" he began.

"You can ask me out for dinner," she finished for him.

Both of them laughed.

"You know, Gemma, we're going to have to work out some sort of a system of who asks who," he replied. "Otherwise, we'll never ask each other anything at all."

"Well, as long as you're asking while I'm in your arms," she said as she pulled him to his feet for a hug, "the answer will be yes."

"Oh, good, there you are," said the innkeeper as the two of them entered the establishment. "Some of us were beginning to worry about you."

"What do you mean?" Gemma asked with a frown.

"Well, what with the horseman riding about last night, and catching four other people unawares, we thought maybe he'd caught up with you, too," she explained. "Turns out the only reason the horseman still rides is because he's none other than the ancestor of Ichabod Crane himself."

"You mean the mayor was the madman on the horse we ran from last night?" she asked, shock clearly written on her face.

"Yes, it was him," she said with a sad shake of her head "God rest his poor, bedeviled soul."

"He's dead?" asked Jack. "What happened to him?"

"Well, some say the real horseman appeared and took his head," the woman chuckled. "But of course that's just nonsense. Most of us here think one of his would-be victims did it. Trouble is, the head has yet to be found."

"That's just creepy," Gemma said as she turned to Jack.

"What's creepy?" Jack teased her. "The fact the mayor went psycho and killed four people, or the fact that he was found headless himself?"

"No, the fact that we don't know if we were chased by the mayor on his rampage, or if we were chased by the actual horseman himself."

"You're right, that's pretty creepy," Jack had to agree. "No offense, ma'am, but we're checking out. The festival was fun and all, but I believe I speak for the both of us when I say we've seen the last of Sleepy Hollow."

"Take care of yourselves," the woman said. "And just remember, if you did see the real horseman, he'll be coming for you every Halloween. I only hope you are ready."

The pair exchanged dubious looks, shivered, and walked quickly away. Neither one said it, but each of them made a mental note that on Halloween next year, they most definitely needed a place to hide.

"Let's go home, Gemma," said Jack with a grin. "I'm driving."

"You always drive, Jack," she reminded him sweetly as she took his arm.

"That's right, I do."