A/N: Sorry it's been awhile. Exams, summer internship, now last semester of college...been a bit rough for writing.

.o.o.o.

Chapter 7: Autumn's End

.o.o.o.

Like most seasonal spirits, Bunny and Jack tended to take pride in their work. Bunny more so due to active artistry and Jack less so due to his easygoing nature, but they took pride in it.

Of course, Jack eventually ran into some issues due to the fact that they weren't the only ones.

"What are you doing?"

Jack looked down from the random tree he'd perched in. It was a brownish-orange impy-thing. "Um, what?"

"To the tree, you idiot!"

Jack sat upright, checking where he'd been lying to make sure he hadn't somehow accidentally iced the branch. The bark was fine, a bit chilled, sure, but fine. "Nothing, by the looks of things." He'd just picked the spot to watch a bunch of kids leaf-jumping.

"Yeah, right," the imp snorted.

"Okay, seriously, I'm just sitting here," Jack said, getting annoyed. "Not sure what you're mad about."

"You're thinking of an early freeze, you pain in the neck!" the little creature snapped at him.

"You know, I think I am," Jack said coldly, blasting the thing with ice and flying off towards home.

.o.o.o.

Burgess typically had a rather short fall. Since the other seasons were pretty long, no one ever really dwelt on it that much, including Jack who usually just started his work there in mid-November.

It was just little stuff, anyway. No snow drifts or icy roads—at least not until after Thanksgiving because frankly Tom the Turkey scared the bejesus out of Jack when angry and he was so not messing with that—just some nice, carefully placed frosted patches, dropped temperatures in his and other lakes, and of course, an up in the wind chill.

Little stuff.

Jack had settled on a roof to watch some kids on an after-school sports team play. He idly picked up one of the leaves that coated the roof and iced it over, looking at how the frozen water made the veins stand out.

Maybe he could try a pattern like that in some of his window work this year.

Jack was hit in the back of the head with a pinecone. "Ah! What the—you again!"

It was the little creature again, wait, no it wasn't, this one had a bigger nose and darker eyes.

"Okay, look, I don't know who you guys are, but you'd better knock it off," Jack said. "I haven't done anything."

"Bit chilly for November," the imp said.

"It's Burgess. This place wouldn't know hot if the sun vacationed here," Jack replied.

"And whose fault is that?"

"What are you saying?" Jack asked darkly. "And again, who the heck are you?"

"We, boy, are the Autumn Imps, in charge of all season-changing and color-adding this time of year," the imp said proudly.

"You mean like the Easter Bunny with a different palate? Okay," Jack said. "So what's your beef with me?"

"November is strictly a fall month except in more extreme northern hemisphere climates," the imp said. "This is not one of those."

"Huh, that's funny, because I think it has been for around three hundred years," Jack said.

"Yes, because for some odd reason you decided to reside here," the imp said. "The climate should actually be much more mild."

"Okay buddy, if you're telling me to leave my home you can go take a long walk off a short pier," Jack said. "I live here."

"Yes. And we are fed up and want you to move," the imp said.

Jack had him frozen before the imp could say anything else.

.o.o.o.

Not wanting to go bother Bunny with something clearly silly, Jack went to go track down Tom the Turkey of Thankfulness and figure out what the heck those things wanted with him. It wasn't too hard, Tom's whole territory was just America.

"Why hello gobble Jack!" Tom said. "Getting ready for a good gobble season?"

Jack grinned weakly. Bunny and the Groundhog were one thing, but Tom was…weird. His wings could act like hands for one. And he somehow dressed like a pilgrim. And he was the spirit of a holiday where his kind would normally be eaten and….yeah. Best not to dwell on it. "Trying. Tom, you ever hear of some bunch called the Autumn Imps?"

"Ah, gobble, yes!" Tom said, bobbing his head. "The painters of the leaves, arrangers of autumn sunsets gobble, and so forth and so on. Mostly tree spirits, I think. I've pecked a few in my time, gobble."

"Know why they'd hit me with a pinecone and yell at me?"

"Hmm," Tom mused, strutting back and forth a bit. "They are a bit…smug, gobble. I mean, people accuse the Easter Bunny gobble and Santa of being high and mighty perfectionists, gobble but they have the rep to back it up. Gobble, the Imps, eh they mostly just paint leaves. Don't even help with the gobble harvesting. Rude."

"And the pinecone and yelling?" Jack asked.

"You ice up their work, gobble," Tom said. "You don't mean anything by it, it's how things go you know. But, gobble, you know those artistic types sometimes…"

"Tell me about it," Jack agreed. "So…plans on making them knock it off?"

"I'd just gobble ignore them. They should gobble get over it sooner or later."

"Can it be sooner? Pinecones hurt!"

.o.o.o.

"I thought we told you to get lost!"

Jack closed his eyes. Tom had suggested ignoring creatures that had really grating voices and man he'd like to ice them… He didn't say anything, just kept watching some kids play basketball.

"Oi, Frosty? Your ears freeze over or something?"

Unoriginal too…you'd think artists would have more creative insults. Jack just kept his eyes on the orange ball, not even moving when a pinecone collided with his head.

"What, too good to listen to your elders?"

Something heavier collided with his head and Jack couldn't stifle a very loud "OW!" Did they just hit him with a rock?

"Huh, well the mouth still works…"

Crap, there was more than one this time. "Go away. I'm not icing anything." He turned to face them, annoyed and very willing to start icing at any second.

"Too cold for November," one imp said.

"I didn't know you were a weatherman. Or a climatologist."

"Not so cold a town over," another hinted, eyes narrowing.

"Town over's not by a river." Bodies of water usually mean cooler, right?

The next object, a bigger rock, caught him dead between the eyes before he could move.

.o.o.o.

"What the bloody hell did you do to yourself?"

"Hwa…?"

"I mean, you get the turkey worried, the bloody turkey, who freaks out and goes and pecks on the Tooth Palace so Tooth can tell me, and I find you out on the ground! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Ow…" Jack muttered, sitting up. "Bunny?"

"Do you know anyone else who'd get this ticked off at you hurting yourself?" the pooka demanded.

"Hey, I didn't-"

"How do you even get something like that on your face, anyway?"

"An imp threw a rock at it, okay?"

"…An imp threw a rock at you?" Bunny asked. "You…you're in a tiff with the Autumn Imps?"

"I guess? I'm not trying to be!" Jack protested.

"And the bloody turkey didn't tell me that?" Bunny demanded.

"I guess not?" Jack said.

"A tiff with the Autumn Imps…why didn't you say so?"

"You were kind of yelling."

"I meant before rock throwing got involved."

"I thought it was nothing," Jack said. "Tom thought so too. Said to ignore it."

Bunny folded his arms, "Jack, mate, in case you haven't noticed, Tommy-boy ain't exactly that bright."

"Yeah, well, I'll just go freeze the little brats now and…hey, wait, why did Tom find me?"

"Thanksgiving rounds. You were out for a bit. Still can't find your staff."

"Wait, what?" Jack asked frantically. "Shit, shit, shit, we need to get it back! I need it! When is it? Oh man, it's almost December?"

"Is December."

"Argh!" Jack groaned, rubbing his hair in frustration—and then hissing in pain because that made his head hurt. "Bunny, we have to get it back."

"I've been looking, ya gumby. Can't find the damn thing. Was trying to wake you up so you could."

"Well come on then!"

Bunny didn't try to stop him. Jack guessed it was because frankly the pooka wanted those imps iced too.

.o.o.o.

"Give it back!" Jack snapped, trying to keep his eyes on his staff as the imps played rather fantastic game of keep-away with him and Bunny.

"No! No more ice!"

"You blighters are just asking for it!" Bunny snarled, aiming a boomerang and knocking an imp clear out of a tree, the staff clattering to the ground.

Jack and an imp both dove for it but the second Jack's fingers were in contact with the staff the imp, also touching it, was solid ice.

"Now I'm not one for cold, but I think this should be interesting," Bunny commented as Jack smirked at the imps and slammed his staff downwards.

.o.o.o.

"And the cold snap that has restored Burgess to its usual temperatures still puzzles scientists, who had assumed some odd phenomenon was stopping the town from cooling for the season, as it came on so suddenly-"

"Froze a whole county in one go. That's got to be what, four of the great lakes?"

"I wish," Jack said. "Nah, I'll try that after New Year's."

Bunny nodded, "So, looks like you are the reason this joint almost never gets to scorching."

"Go figure, am I right?"

"So what's next year's plan?"

"Actually, Tom teamed up with a couple of gremlins…something tells me those imps are vacating by the end of October until the end of time."

"The turkey…and gremlins…" Bunny said warily.

"Scary, huh?" Jack asked.

"Too horrible to even consider, really. Ask them if they need any egg golem backup, though."

"Sure thing."

.o.o.o.

A/N: Next Time: Bunny and Jack get an invitation from the Sandman to watch something really cool: Celebrations of the year 2000!