This is part of a fluff competition with my sister, as well as part of the round 2 prompts for rotg_kink and ao3. Picture courtesy of demitasse-lover on deviantart.

Water and Its Effects

The North Pole was in a state of absolute disarray, the likes of which had not been seen since the last mass sugar rush two decades prior (resulting in the mandatory midday breathalyzer tests for sugar and caffeine levels in the elves). Yetis scrambled to follow directions for cleanup and elves just got in the way, their high-pitched, jingling hats acting as neon caution signals to warn the yetis and other Guardians of their presence. A dozen elves had already been squished already in the turmoil; though they recovered quickly, they still had to be dragged from the footpaths by their fellow mischief-makers.

It was a chaotic scene, but it hadn't started that way. It had started the way most adventures do…with a small mistake. In this particular incident, that mistake happened to be a simple weather forecasting miscalculation on the part of a particular winter sprite and a googie-bearing bunny.

Jack's arms were folded, his stance still hesitant. "Really?"

Jamie stood confidently in front of him. "Really."

The pair was in the young believer's room, Jamie lazily sprawled on the end of his bed and the winter sprite nervously standing just out of sight of the window. The boy followed his friend with his eyes as he glided back and forth across the wooden floorboards, his feet not quite touching the floor to prevent heavy ice from being left in his wake. Until the topic of Bunnymund and his current location had come up, Jack had been perched easily in the window frame, spreading frost over the glass panes where his hand brushed against it.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing down to the street. "Are you sure? He seemed pretty irritated about his little egglets when I left yesterday. Maybe it's a trick."

The eleven-year-old rolled his eyes. "You only frosted them up and stacked them into a snow castle while he was sleeping. What in that could possibly irritate him?" Even at twelve, Jamie had a pretty good idea of what the adults called "common sense" by now, something he was convinced that Jack had absolutely none of. That, and a lack of self-preservation instincts. He'd learned about those in their biology unit and it had instantly reminded him of Jack. "But no, I don't think he's trying to get back at you. Besides," the boy pointed down to the two figures on the lawn below them, "he's looking after Sophie right now and there's still at least five inches of snow on the ground. It's your turf." Christmas was already three months behind them, but Jack had yet to let up on the constant snowfall in his favorite corner of the world.

"It is my turf, isn't it?" His wide grin was infectious, and within moments Jamie was asking what he was so happy about. Rather than answer, Jack gestured to the open window. "I think it's time for a little fun. How about you?" He whistled out to the open air as he slipped out to the short overhang above the porch, Jamie holding delicately to the crook of his staff. With his high shrill came a sudden upsweep of wind that rustled almost happily through his unruly snow-white hair. Jamie giggled as he felt a gust duck under one arm and around the hand clutching on to the icy wood.

Nodding sharply at the wind, as if they had exchanged words, Jack grabbed for an invisible intercom and declared in a deep voice, "Alright, safety checks are complete and we are ready for liftoff!" The end of the shepherd's hook in Jack's hands briefly made contact with the rough shingles to send out a short burst of frost in a nearly straight path to the edge of the roof. "Hold on tight!" was Jamie's only warning before a sudden pull sent him skidding on the slick surface. He barely got his second hand on to the hook before he was airborne, a laugh escaping his throat as thrill of delight shot through him. Whenever Jack did something like this, where he normally would have felt a surge of fear, there was an unusual lightness; the Guardian would never let him fall. Moments later, after two exhilarating loop-de-loops through the cool winter air, he plopped face-first into a large snowdrift with a happy shout.

His head popped out of the snow accompanied by a flurry of snowflakes freeing themselves from his hair and jacket. "That was AWESOME! Do you ever use the door?"

Jack, kneeling down from the top of the drift, grinned. "And where would be the fun of that?"

"Wha' was that, Frostbite?"

Jamie bit down on a smirk that threatened to spread across his face as Jack huffed, placing his hands on his hips, and rolling his eyes in a fairly accurate rendition of a teenage girl as Aster approached them, Sophie propped up on his shoulders petting one of his ears. If Jamie's little sister was being irritating, it didn't show. "I was in control of the situation, kangaroo. Besides, I can't very well live up to my title if I just waltz out the front door. Have to keep up the reputation with my fans."

"Can't do much about tha' if ya kill off the ankle-bitters by makin' 'em think they can fly, Snowflake."

"Oh, so I should stick to letting them play with my gigantic ears." He dramatically lifted an eyebrow as one hand shifted from his hip to form a perfect snowball behind his back. "Yeah, I don't think so, Roo. Once you think you can do my job better, I'm happy to switch. Until then…" The soft projectile was spinning through the air faster than the Pooka could blink, flattening against his forehead. Sophie held on to his ear tighter, eyes lit up and a toothy smile erupting. "Snowball fight!"

Jack skated around the group before Jamie or Bunny could mold a single snowball, freezing the topmost layer of snow into a thin layer of ice with his bare feet alone and just as abruptly turning it back into fluffy condensation when his skin left the surface. Ammunition formed itself from the heavier snow in the wake of his path. With his laughter came another breeze of snowflakes, the white clouds above the group graying with heavy precipitation and brimming with potential for another snowfall in the next hour.

Seeing the ready-made snowballs, Aster abandoned his hastily formed projectile and grabbed three of Jack's from the ground. As he felt the crash of snow against the back of his head, he retaliated by shooting off the snowballs with skill gained by using boomerangs. Jack was quick, but the last two hit their mark, sending their recipient skidding into a small bank of snow with a laugh that was all too infectious. Soon Aster had a wide smile unconsciously spreading across his face

Jamie inevitably turned against the two Guardians, turning the war into a free-for-all. Jack had to jump out of the snowbank to take cover as Jamie and Aster temporarily formed an alliance against him. "Hey! Wait a second!" He laughed as he skated backwards across the snow, dodging freshly packed snow. One managed to catch him, tossed with the superior aim of the Easter Bunny, and he made sure to give him a face full of snow in return. He swung around to catch the young believer off-guard, a branch above him suddenly dumping its bundle on him.

The white-haired, winter sprite perched himself on the tallest pile of snow with an evil laugh. "I am the king of winter! Hear me roar!" He raised his hands dramatically to the sky, tiny snowflakes beginning to stir in the air. A nearly imperceptible tug on his mind drew his attention from his snowball fight to the wind. It gusted at him with unusual warmth. The wind couldn't speak and rarely bothered communicating more than simple thoughts, but Jack had learned that. like the Sandman, it tried to be as clear-cut and obvious as possible.

Spring, he thought. "I know," he muttered, "but a couple flowers and a little sunlight won't melt me."

Urgent gusts kicked at him, but before he could complain, his Guardian senses tingled. Someone was having a little too much fun nearby, and as that tingling surged, he ducked into a roll. Two snowballs barely skimmed past his hair accompanied by disappointed yells. He matched them with two more sent back at the pair. "All your foolish attempts will come to naught," he laughed, until he had to yelp when Jamie pounced on him, aided by an extra push from Aster.

"Get him! Get him!" Jamie shrieked, taking advantage of Jack's momentary shock. Aster came over with a massive armful of snow and, as Jamie jumped out of the way, dumped it on to Jack. The sprite popped his head out of the snow, his laughter matching his friends'.

Jamie was the first to turn his face to the sky, and his chuckles died off. Dark, angry black clouds were eclipsing the grey, fluffy snow-bearing ones further up. Where the sun had been faint behind the cloud cover, now the sky was growing darker and darker.

"Jack…" he said, confused as to what was going on.

The winter sprite and Pooka were tossing snowballs back and forth, mirth replacing their competitive spirit. Faint blue sparkles trailed from Jack's ammo, lightening the atmosphere. It was rare that the two got along so well, particularly outside their official jobs, but that was hardly Jamie's primary concern.

"Jaaaack…" Worry tinged his voice and Jack turned in the snow that still covered him past his hips.

"Something wrong, Jamie?"

Pointing his finger to the sky, the boy began to notice a growing humidity in the air. "Why are the clouds different?"

Jack glanced up. The sky was completely clouded over. His carefully crafted snowflakes were unable to sustain themselves in the warmer, wetter air creeping over Burgess, and their numbers faltered. Crackling lightning jumped across the sky, and he felt the static run across his skin, making his hair stand on end. "Spring."

His snowballs' effect was beginning to die off from Aster, who followed their gaze. "'S tha' a probl'm? Ya din't ha' a probl'm with Easter las' year."

"Oh yeah, yeah, no problem." He warily listened to the thunder. "Unless it rains," he muttered. Nothing against spring, because flowers were pretty when they sprouted from beneath the snow, and Jack liked sticking around for a couple weeks before the warmth pushed him out entirely, but rain…that was a whole different field. Staff lifted, Jack made preparations to flee the area as the wind warned of a swiftly moving warm front.

"Rain? Wha' happ'ns if i' rains?"

Crashing thunder interrupted Jack's answer, and in the first silent interlude between bright flashes in the clouds above them, the sky opened up and the rain poured down.

"Jamie, yer gonna want ta get inside b'fore ya catch th' sniffles." The boy was hardly garbed for winter in his light sweater, winter patterned scarf and boots rising halfway to his knees. It was even worse for an early spring shower.

"But where's Jack?"

Aster realized that the snowdrift that Jack had been standing in was now empty, as if he had vanished into thin air. The Pooka turned three hundred and sixty degrees, searching for a sign. Once he returned his eyes to the now-empty snowdrift, he noticed something he hadn't before. Some of the snow had collapsed inwards. A step closer allowed him to see down the small hole at a shivering pile of ice and snow.

"Did Jack go back to the North Pole?" Jamie, Jack's first and favorite believer, considered the winter sprite to be virtually indestructible. Rain was clearly some kind of weakness for Jack, and something warm and fuzzy in the Pooka that genuinely liked the Guardian of Fun didn't want the kid to know that.

"Yeah, mate. If'n i' be spring 'ere, Frostbite's gotta be gettin' north to gi' snow ta th' other ankle-biters. I 'ear he's quite the fav'rite Guardian in Scandinavia now."

Jamie jumped up and down in the snow slowly being worn down by the heavy rain. Whether he was excited that his friend was gaining believers or the rain was seeping the cold through his clothes and he was just trying to keep warm, he seemed to buy into the story. "Cool! But he'll be back soon, right?"

"'Course he will. Ya just gotta believe," he concluded with a tap to the boy's nose. "Now ge' inside if ya don' wan' a cold."

He was met with a toothy grin, one of his front teeth still coming in, as the kid gave him a hug before running back to the front door of his house. "Tell Jack I want at least a week of snow days next year!"

"An' Frosty will be all too happy ta do tha'." Kneeling down by the hole in the snowdrift, he brushed some of the snow off the huddled figure. "Ya c'n come out now." White hair shook from side to side before a loud sneeze escaped him. Apparently elementals were just as susceptible to some illnesses as humans. "Come on, Frostbite. Let's getcha back to the workshop ta put some medicine in ya." When the figure didn't stir, Aster reached down to slip his paws beneath his shoulders and pulled him up. He almost couldn't believe his eyes at what he saw in his grip.

It was definitely Jack. Between the white hair, deathly pale skin, and the frost that lightly dusted his skin, clothes and hair, there was no one else that it could have been. Except Frost had been taller…and older… The sprite Aster was holding was maybe half Jack's height if exaggerated. His blue sweatshirt was much too big, trailing down past his knees, and the leggings must have been rolled up around his ankles because he couldn't see them. Had the Guardian of Fun had a child that was trying on his father's clothes, this is exactly what he would have expected.

"Frostbite?"

The child wouldn't meet his eyes, his own wide, ice blue orbs locked on the ground and fingers clutching at the inside of his too-long sleeves.

"Frostbite, I know it's you." He could feel Jack cringe, his shudder vibrating against Aster's paws. "Hey, what's wrong? Besides you being all...smallish."

"My…my tummy hurts. An' my skin is all…wrong." His eyes grew bigger and his pale lips wobbled. "Da rain huuurts, Bunny!" With a sharp keen, Jack buried his head into Aster's neck.

Aster was in momentary shock, reconciling the Jack he had known only through stories with the one he had come to know as a Guardian, and finally with the distraught child clinging to him for comfort. It took half a minute, at least. "Alrighty, mate. Let's…uh…" He'd said something about the rain, right? Aster wasn't sure how rain could hurt, but pulled Jack into his chest, wrapping his arms around him to keep off the moisture. Was this some kind of thing unique to the ice sprites and spirits? Mother Nature's creations always had limitations to keep them to their jurisdictions, making sure that deserts didn't spontaneously grow lakes overnight and rain forests didn't freeze.

Of all the Guardians, North would likely know. He had a library grown from Ombric's original, extensive collection, and somewhere in there had to be a guide to the health of ice-based spirits. "Okay, Jack?" Sniffles met his question, which he took to be a sign that he was listening. "Jack? We're goin' ta visit North, where i's nice an' chilly an' not rainin'." There was no objection, so he opened up a tunnel with the thump of his leg. "Hold on, frostbite." Chilled fingers gripped his fur more tightly. He took a moment to wince before jumping into the subterranean passage.

Opening a passage directly to the North Pole was easy enough, though the fact that North was conceited enough to name the whole region after himself made him roll his eyes every time the name was mentioned. Getting a tunnel directly into the workshop was impossible. There were more protections than the Russian knew what to do with, and there were so many that Aster didn't even know what half of them did. Some worked in tangent, surprising the intruder, marking them so a snow globe could easily track them, and tossing the poor bloke back out on to the snow, a frozen lake or, for the most unfortunate, under the frozen lake. Of course, he could open a tunnel back out, but that he had only gotten North to agree to because he couldn't stand riding on the sleigh. Some things just weren't meant to fly, bunnies included.

He emerged with a coat of snow that he quickly shook off before it could numb his paws. A chunk of the white fluff toppled from his ear on to Jack, who quickly snatched it to his chest with a happy cry. Aster rolled his eyes. The kid was winter no matter his age. Freezing winds drove chills up his spine, and he just managed to suppress the words that came immediately to his lips, instinctually knowing that there was a child in hearing range.

Not that a three hundred year old spirit could truly be called a child, but when the big, shining sapphire eyes met his, he couldn't bring himself to honestly believe that. The Guardian of Fun was about as close as it got.

"North 'ad better 'ave somethin' ta fix this," he muttered, affixing Jack to his neck so he could free up all four of his limbs. The tear tracks had frozen on his near-white cheeks and some of his fur had stuck to it. Vowing never again to deal with young winter sprites, he bounded quickly through the harsh, snow-covered terrain. Jack didn't cling to his neck as tightly as he had expected, to his relief, and his surprised laughs and giggles as they caught air when crossing some of the steeper hills and drifts made the Pooka's heart jump. It was such an innocent sound, one that the Guardians didn't often hear from the young spirit.

Of course, after he had to grab the child's leg when he attempted to stand up and do who-knows-what multiple times on the short ride, he grumbled to himself that whatever survival instincts Jack had been mortal with had been eradicated during the change. Man in the Moon was doubtlessly the one to blame, knowing the bloke's preference for innocence over knowledge. Speaking of children at heart…

North's workshop drew closer, and the two yetis out front waved at him, signaling that all was well at the Pole. The hopelessly cheerful child let out another exuberant cry as he dragged him laughing off his back. "Again! Again!" he cheered as he dangled upside down from Aster's paw, to which the Pooka rolled his eyes.

"Mehbe later, anklebiter." The yeti opened the ridiculously large, red doors and North's workshop was unveiled before them. Post-Christmas festivities had finally died down enough to resume work for most of the yetis, but he could see at least seven still pulling down streamers from the high ceilings and brushing confetti from every visible surface. The Globe was still decorated in large wreaths and the massive pine tree dominating the ground floor had yet to be dismantled, ornaments of every imaginable shape and color gleaming with an inner light. And though the rest of the world may have gone to electric lighting, the workshop still lit up its Christmas tree with old-fashioned candles. He turned to one of the yetis to ask, "C'n ya get the big guy down here? We've got 'rselves a probl'm."

The yeti—Randy, was it?—scurried off in search of North. Jack, calmer now, was slumped by Aster's feet with a blank expression. Aster bent over to ruffle his hair. "How're ya feelin', mate?"

"I… My tummy still hurts," he murmured. The bright tinge that had been spreading across his cheeks during the short ride was still present, appearing more feverish than happily flushed now. The ice that normally dusted his skin was gone, replaced by a thin sheen of sweat. Even his hair seemed less blue than bone white. Aster searched the walls for a window, pulling the child into his arms when he found one that wasn't bolted shut. He set Jack down on the ledge underneath it, letting him curl up tiredly against the frosted panes. The pair of windows was held together by imbedded magnets and a chain, more decorative than serving a specific purpose. With minimal effort, he unhitched the silver chain and opened the one Jack wasn't resting against.

A strong gust of wind sent him reeling back into a passing yeti, which grunted in discontent but was otherwise unphased. "Yblagahgar," it huffed, helping him up. The yeti gestured at the window with a questioning raised eyebrow. "Glagh?" Aster turned, surprised to see young Jack Frost playing and quietly talking to thin air. It wasn't until the wind stirred the boy's hair and sweatshirt to Jack's delight that Aster considered that the winter spirit might actually be speaking to some invisible presence.

"Who's your friend?"

Jack looked up. "Friend? You mean Wind? He's my beeest friend!" Throwing his arms around the so-called-Wind seemed to make the presence very happy, throwing chilly power around like a small whirlwind into window panes, innocent bystanders, Aster and even Jack, who merely giggled and pulled his arms around tighter. The Pooka rolled his eyes, running paws over his arms to warm up the goosebumps. He could see where some of the kid's recklessness came from.

Wait, Wind? He'd said "Wind" right? Was that a nickname, or had Jack Frost actually befriended the untamable winds? And if he had, was it just the chilly North Wind or all four brothers? Maybe once or twice he had wondered vaguely if the winter spirit was using minor magic or spells to keep a breeze dramatically tossing his hair in just the right way.

Then, of course, he remembered that Jack was nothing if not a hopeless idiot who hated having responsibilities, and assumed not. The crazy idea that the wind was like an irresponsible friend, flustering Jack's hair into normally impossible styles, was more plausible.

North stepped out from his elevator on to the work floor, accompanied by the yeti that Aster had sent after him. (Well probably the one. To Aster, they all looked essentially the same. The large Russian was apparently the only person who could understand the gibberish, much less identify each individual one.) Before approaching him, North swept his head slowly from side to side, checking that everything was still in working order. Aster wasn't surprised. Ever since a simple mishap with the eggnog in late January, Aster and North were much more hesitant to drink anything that had come into the hands of the elves at any point, and for the time being, the tiny, tottering 'helpers' were being kept at arm's length from anything even remotely combustible, including people and yetis. It was hard not to make sure the elves weren't getting into trouble nowadays.

"Bunny!" the man declared happily, grabbing his shoulders in glee. "Is March! I not see you outside Warden dis close to Easter in two century!"

"Yeah, yeah. Frostbite dragged me out wi' a prank or I wouldn'a left,' he grumbled, though he held no grudge. He had, admittedly, needed a break from preparations. The citadel eggs could overlook the paint mixing, egg hibernation and flower growth. Jack's googie-castle had been pretty impressive. The egglets didn't seem to mind the cold or the ice he used to seal them together; in fact, they had been jumping around the teenager's feet, each wanting to be next. Aster had been tired when he chased the winter spirit out and maybe a bit irritable at the distraction, but not enough to be angry. "But tha's not why 'm here."

At first, Wind had lifted some of the color out of Jack's cheeks, recalling the snow-white tint. Some of the ice had refrozen along his skin and hair, and his eyes shone brighter. In the short time his friend had appeared, though, the feverish sheen had returned along with the exhaustion. He was barely conscious anymore, eyelids at half-mast and periodically nodding off.

Like a mother hen seeing its chick in danger, North moved faster than Aster would have thought possible to hover over the fever-stricken child. "Why child in workshop, Bunny? I can do nothing for mortal child." Yet in spite of his dismissive tone, he held his palm to Jack's forehead to feel his temperature. "Not too warm, but needs to be home under blanket. Parents give medicine. Child get better."

"North," Aster called insistently as the burly man pulled out a snowglobe. "I's Jack."

"Jack has son?" Confusion drew his thick eyebrows together. "Is immortal too?"

"Nah, mate, this is Jack. I' rained and somethin' 'appened ta 'im."

North drew the drowsy child up so his bare toes didn't even skim the sill. Through reddening eyes, Jack looked up at North. Whether he was awake enough to recognize the man or not, there was no resistance to being held. His nose twitched and the boy sneezed. Twice. With a sniffle and a hoarse cough, he coiled his small arms around North's, put his head down and nodded off. Water dripped on to the floor of the workshop like the winter spirit was an icicle in springtime.

"You sure dis is Jack?" His expression was anything but reassuring, and Aster nodded. It was hard to tell, with his lack of energy and significantly younger appearance, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was still their newest Guardian. North, still grasping Jack under his arms, held him up to the light with an inquiring eye. It was just like the look he studied his finished products with, one that searched for any telltale break or misplaced crack in the ice. "Tell me exactly what happen."

Aster relayed the full story, careful not to leave even the smallest out. North was silent throughout the telling, continuing his clinical observation, but when the storytelling reached the point at which Aster had pulled Jack from the snowdrift, he asked, "Where is staff?"

The Pooka halted midsentence. "His staff?" he repeated. "I…I dunno. I don' suppose i' was wi' Fros'bite or I woulda brought i' back wi' me."

"Interesting. Continue."

There was little else to add, except the short exchange that he had with Jack before bringing him to the North Pole. "I's like e's completely reverted ta a child, North. An' all e's said 's tha 'is belly hur's. I dunno wha's wi' 'im an' wa'er, but b'fore i' started rainin', Frostbite seem'd 'fraid a somethin' 'appenin'. 'ave you 'eard abou' anythin' like this before?"

"From Man in Moon's influence? No. We are all Guardians because of Man in Moon, and that only make us immortal. Little more. Maybe give extra spark of something." He brought the young Jack in to cradle him to his chest. The child gave a sigh, not quite curling into the warmth but not leaning back from the comfort either. A small hand clutched the red cape, hugging it to his chest with a sniff. "But Jack not just gain immortality, he became spirit of winter. He is one of Mother Nature's children too, and 'dey need conduit, like ring or staff."

"I'll run back ta Burgess. Mehbe problem was loss of 'is staff, not so much rain," Aster suggested. He tapped his foot, opening a tunnel to the town

"Possible." North glanced down to his arms at his warming bundle. "But something in belly says otherwise."

A/N: This…was supposed to be a one-shot. I swear. A bloody one-shot. But noooo, at eleven pages and growing, this monster just continues to suck my energy. I'm on break this week, so I'll try to update fairly quickly. (Heh… If only…)