Behind Enemy Lines

By: TG

Summary: When Jack Frost, a disillusioned Lieutenant in the United States Navy, is shot down behind enemy lines, he begins to realize that his yearning for adventure might be his downfall. Luckily he's got Tooth, North, Aster, and a whole boatload of people trying to get him home, and he might just make it…if the mysterious tracker doesn't get to him first.

Or: The time Jack Frost literally charms the pants off of Commodore Bunnymund and then gives him a whole head of grey hair.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood, the USS Carl Vinson, or the movie Behind Enemy Lines

Warnings: Language, sex, scenes of war, misused history.

AN: Just a few things to be aware of before you read!

1. This fanfic borrows heavily from the movie Behind Enemy Lines (2001), which was based on real life events.

2. I'm a military historian but I'm not very familiar with the Bosnian War, or the Balkans in general. I've done some research, both on situations in the movie and independent of the movie, but it was by no means extensive.

3. Because of these two reasons I struggled with whether or not I wanted to keep the setting. I didn't want to cast a bad light on Serbs or Croats or anyone involved in the Bosnian Conflict just because a few committed some pretty heinous crimes. I considered changing the war to a spirit war but in the end I just ran with what I already had written.

4. You may or may not notice that I'm pretty much taking liberties with NATO ranks, as well as foreign military hierarchy. It's difficult to compare ranks, especially when the ranks don't necessarily add up. So I'm using NATO ranks for everyone to make it easier!

Enjoy!


The hillside is dotted with patches of trees.

The Serbs have no problem using their cover to sneak in buses full of people from nearby villages. It means that no one can see them hold the Bosnian Muslims at gunpoint as they are forced off of the buses.

The natural sounds of the forest mean that no one can hear the sounds of women and children begging for their lives, and the lives of their husbands, brothers, fathers, sons. No one can hear the clicks of the safeties, nor the spray of the bullets as an entire population is obliterated from the face of the earth.

The Serbs have no reason to worry about being discovered as they dig holes to plant fledgling trees –an attempt to cover up the atrocity they have just committed.

Yes, the hillside is dotted with patches of trees.

It is the perfect place to hide a mass grave.


"Go!"

With a single cry, chaos erupts around him –men are grunting, hands pushing hard at shoulders and chests, feet scrabbling for purchase. Three men break away from the scuffle, two of them turning and making a break for it, arms pumping as they gain distance. Several others follow, marking their targets. The third man dances backwards, completely relying on his brothers for his defense as he waits for the perfect moment –

There! Several yards away now, one of the two escapees –a golden haired man named Sanderson –turns his head back, searching. Their eyes lock, and Jack draws his right arm back and snaps it forward, relishing the release of tension in his muscles. Someone throws his hands up in a block, but nothing manages to impede the football's progress as it rockets through the air in a near perfect spiral, helped along by the wind at Jack's back.

Sandy stretches his hands up and catches the ball with a triumphant cry, and is immediately swarmed and chased down the deck of the aircraft carrier they are currently playing on –the USS Carl Vinson. Jack grins and watches the chaos unfold, sighing as the almost vicious wind ruffles his hair and raises goose bumps along his bare forearms. Winter in the Adriatic Sea can be quite unforgiving, but he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the cool sharpness of it.

"You know, Jack, you really should not be playing football when you are on high alert."

Lieutenant Frost ignores the pained cry as his golden haired pilot is overrun and tackled to the deck, and turns to find a large man with salt-and-pepper hair in Russian Navy fatigues.

"Nick! When did you guys get back? Man, it's been so boring here without you!" Jack says, grinning as Nicholas St. North laughs merrily and claps him hard on the back.

"Boring? That is good joke! Is never boring with you around."

"Yeah, so is that high alert bullshit. Good joke." North gives him a look, but Jack ignores it and stretches his arms above his head. "Whaddaya say we go grab some chow?"

The mess is crowded –the Marines and NATO forces are back from their latest mission –and it takes nearly twenty minutes for Jack and North to grab their food and find a seat. Jack makes a face at the sad state of the chicken, but as usual the big man barely gives his food a second glance before it is shoveled into his mouth. Thankfully Jack is distracted from the systematic destruction of North's food by the appearance of Sandy, who looks slightly road rashed but victorious.

"Heh Sandeh!" North says around a mouthful of mystery meatloaf. Jack winces.

Sandy gives him a jovial wave and then turns to give Jack a Look, as though asking why he'd been left to fend for himself. Jack just fixes an innocent look on his face and shrugs as the short man plops his own tray of runny meatloaf down next to Jack's sad chicken.

"Sorry, little man, I've got bigger things to worry about."

"What can possibly be more important than you pilot, eh Mister Navigator?" North teases. He and Sandy exchange a smirk and Jack rolls his eyes.

The usually sunny smile drops from his face and he drops his fork to his plate with a clunk. "Look guys, what are we even doing here? We've been on high alert for days, but nothing's happening."

"Jack, I just got back from mission. You cannot tell me we're sitting around here eating cookies all day. There's reason we are on alert. Just because NATO's negotiated peace between Bosnia and Serbia does not mean job is done," North says firmly.

"I know, I know… It's just… It sucks. They tell us to do recon, but all we're doing is flying over a bunch of trees and snow. Nothing changes. I mean I didn't sign up to be a baby sitter!"

North frowns at him. He looks ready to give Jack a lecture about preparedness, but something over Jack's shoulder catches his eye and stops him short. Jack watches in confused amusement as North grabs a fistful of napkins and starts wiping at his face, trying to make it look as though he hasn't just been scarfing down his food and making a mess on himself. He and Sandy exchange puzzled glances, and Jack only just opens his mouth to ask what the heck is going on when a tittering voice echoes through the mess and he realizes that it is Miss Tooth whom North sees.

Jack leans across the table and leers. North blushes and refuses to meet anyone's eyes.

"-and this is the mess hall. Trust me, you don't have to worry too much about remembering your way here –just follow the stampede at meal time and you'll be fine," Tooth gushes. She is talking to a tall man in uniform, someone Jack doesn't recognize. Her eyes meet his and she positively beams. "Oh, hello Jack! Hello Sandy and North!"

"Hello Master Chief Tooth!" Jack greets cheerily, attitude taking a 180 as he favors the Asian beauty with a cheeky grin. "How are you this fine evening?"

Tooth laughs and puts her hands on her hips, trying for a scolding look but failing miserably. "What's this Master Chief business? How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Tooth?"

"At least once more, Miss Swan," Jack says, purposefully drawing out the posh accent. Beside him North mumbles something and Sandy silently cracks up.

"Don't you shamelessly quote my favorite movie at me, Jack Frost," Tooth scolds with a grin. "And in any case, I'm here on official business.

"Sir , these are Lieutenants Jack Frost and Sandy Mansnoozie of the United States Navy, and Lieutenant Commander Nick St. North of the Russian Federation. Gentlemen, meet Commodore Aster Bunnymund of the Royal Australian Navy."

Commodore Bunnymund –Jack snorts at the name –is tall and lean, with short, spikey brown hair and gorgeous green eyes. Over all he is very striking and cuts quite the imposing figure, but in the moment he simply looks a strange combination of nervous and angry, overcompensating with stiffness and propriety. His shoulders and back are perfectly straight, and his brows furrow more with each passing second that the officers don't stand and show him proper respect for his rank.

It is plain as day that the commodore is used to following protocol, perhaps even takes comfort in it, and expects others to follow it as well.

Jack snorts again and is treated with a severe frown and a glare that could have withered even the stoutest of plants.

"Nice to meet meetcha, Bunny," he offers, grinning as the commodore bristles at the nickname. "Why dontcha sit down and stay a while!"

Tooth looks back and forth between the newcomer's increasingly flushed visage and Jack's growing smirk and grins, obviously pleased about something. "I'll just leave you to it, then, sirs."

Sandy also looks back and forth between Jack and the commodore and blows out a breath. He can see the way they are sizing each other up; there is a spark of interest in Jack's baby blues that he hasn't seen in a long time. He sighs and nudges North, jerking his head after Tooth's retreating form; North all but scrambles up from the table, almost upending his tray in his haste to follow his ladylove. Sandy rolls his eyes and follows behind, whistling.

"Wait, Miss Tooth!" I thought maybe we could find Phil and cause some trouble. And later you can show me your tooth collection!"

"Oh yes," Tooth giggles. "Remember the night we let all the chickens on board? We spent fifteen hours scrubbing the chicken shit off of the deck…"

"Don't you mean I spent fifteen hours scrubbing shit?" North mumbles as they turn the corner and walk out of sight.

Commodore Bunnymund looks absolutely appalled at the thought of any of them playing pranks, especially sweet Tooth, and Jack can't help but laugh at the man's bewildered expression. The commodore's face softens a bit at the sunny sound, and he only hesitates a moment before sliding stiffly into the seat that North left behind.

For a few moments neither of them speak, content to just listen to the commotion of life going on around them while Jack finishes off the last of Nick's abandoned dinner.

"Master Chief Toothiana has us all fooled, doesn't she?"

Jack lets out a surprised burst of laughter and Bunnymund smiles hesitantly. "Well, maybe you. We know her too well by now to be fooled by her charming demeanor," Jack replies, leaning back in his chair and licking his fork clean. "Everyone thinks I'm the troublemaker, but it's really all just an elaborate ruse. You should see what they're capable of when they actually try."

"I don't think I want to," Bunnymund murmurs, lips quirking up slightly when Jack snorts.

They lapse into silence again, and Aster visibly relaxes as the din of the mess dims from the dinner rush to the slow trickle of late eaters.

"So Bunny," Jack says, drawing the NATO officer's attention once more. "To what do we owe the pleasure of having you aboard?"

Aster glares at him "'m not a bunny, mate."

"Ah, you're right. Going off your accent I'd say you're closer to a kangaroo than a bunny."

Bunnymund growls under his breath about Jack's flippant attitude toward superior officers and makes to stand up.

"No, wait!" Jack says, surprised. Aster gives him a look but remains sitting, much to Jacks' relief. "Look, sorry. I think we started off on the wrong foot here. Or paw, whatever it is that kangaroo-bunnies have." This time Bunnymund really does stand up. "Okay no haha sorry, I just… Oh come on, get back here! I'm sorry!"

Aster tries valiantly to suppress the grin that threatens to brighten his face and rolls his eyes. Equal parts annoyed and amused, he sits back down, surprised by Jack's sigh of relief and only slightly frustrated with his own willingness to cooperate. Jack might seem like a little shit who disregards the rules, but Aster realizes then that he is actually quite astute –it is in the way his baby blues gleam knowingly, the way he had picked up on Aster's nervousness and tried to lighten the mood with humor.

"Let's try this again. Hello, my name is Jack Frost and I'm a little shit."

"Nice to meetcha," Aster says, grinning. "'m Aster Bunnymund, and I'm a stubborn ass."

Jack snorts and then laughs, and Aster finds that he really likes it –the way Jack's nose scrunches and the corners of his eyes crinkle in mirth, the way his smile is just a tad bit crooked, the way the sound bubbles up from his throat like precious water from a fountain.

He frowns at himself. Oh, this…this is not good. Aster clears his throat when he notices Jack looking at him, concerned, but is saved from questioning when the creaky PA system crackles to life, announcing some kind of meeting at 1900. Once he manages to gain control of himself, Aster looks across the table to see Jack stealing a quick glance at the clock on the mess wall, frowning to himself.

"Time to go?"

"Sorry Bun-Bun, I gotta take off. Catch ya later?"

Aster finds he can't quite say no to those beautiful blue eyes. Yeah, this is definitely not good. Not good at all. He only hopes Jack can't read him as well as he thinks he can, or he might be in trouble.


AN: This has been in the works for a long time, but I have a bad track record with finishing multichapters in a timely fashion if I don't finish them first haha. I'm not quite done with this one yet but it's almost 25,000 words and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so here it is!

Crossposted to my writing blog (trumpet-geek. tumblr. com) and my AO3 account (trumpetgeek).

Thanks for reading!