Heated
Tangled limbs, labored breathing on the grass. Had Bunny even half an idea the things which went through Jack Frost's mind, the hairs on his back would stand on end.
It all started about a year ago.
"So, I've been spending some quality time with you guys."
"So you have," North chimed in jovially, never once taking his eyes off perfecting his frozen toy.
It had been an odd two months since Pitch's defeat, and the boy had been, as stated simply, able to spend some quality time with his fellow Guardians. This with the exception of Bunny, who seemed a little keener to hide away in his hole than exchange a bit of banter.
Busy fingers stopped working as North slowly realized what the boy was innocuously bringing up. He furrowed his brow.
"No, Jack. You need to stay away from Bunny."
"I'll consider that."
"No, no consider. You stay away. You stay here, you make ice planes. Do not visit Bunny."
"Okay, okay," the boy threw his palms up, rolling his eyes. "I get it. No messing around with the kangaroo."
"Good," North nodded with approval. Just as he was prepared to sit down again and have a cookie, a yeti barged in. He dropped the cookie in shock.
"Why is it that you can't knock?"
The initial shock replaced with frustration, there was a confused flurry of yeti-sounds and North making mention of "the elves what?" The old man stumbled to his feet and rushed out, leaving the little drawing room empty.
The boy sat there, fiddling with the blueprints lying around. He jumped when he heard a loud crashing and banging outside the door. A bearded head poked in.
"Remember, no visiting Bunny."
And then it disappeared, the door slamming shut. North's footsteps echoed down the corridor, and soon it went silent.
Fifteen seconds passed.
Jack grinned and sprang to his feet. This was his chance! He wasn't about to back down until he had some good quality time with the pretend marsupial. Up went his staff, and up out of the window he went.
The wind lifted him swiftly across the tundra, across the sea and fields of grass. At last he saw a hole in the ground where only he and a few knew how to spot, and down the tunnel he went.
The boy landed softly in the Warren. He flicked his gaze across the area for any visible sign of the rabbit. It was oddly quiet there – far too quiet for his liking. Where was Bunny?
Full of curiosity Jack crept to what looked like a wooden cottage and pressed himself against the wall under a half-opened window. From it he heard a sound of grunting and snorting – rather like a pig's. He stuffed his hand into his mouth to suppress a giggle as he peeked in, half expecting to find Bunny perfecting a barnyard impression in front of a mirror.
What he didn't expect to find, however, was Bunny in the middle of relieving his rut-afflicted self.
There he was, grunting like a boar rubbing its tusks against the bark of a fine birch tree. Furry paws brushed against something kept commonly invisible, the rabbit's heated gasps escaping into the petal-scented air of the Warren.
Jack's eyes went wide in amazement. Gaping - and rooted to the spot - he looked for a ten good minutes more, and then, getting on his haunches, he crept away just as silently as he'd entered.
"Hey Kangaroo."
"Oh no."
It was spring again, very close to Easter. Bunny was busy, and Jack had unfortunately chosen that opportune moment to drop by. The rabbit heaved a sigh, and rubbing his forehead with a paw, he hazarded a glare at the boy.
"Not you again. What d'ya want, Ice Cream?"
"I'm here to spend some quality time with you," Jack offered cheerfully, leaning on his staff. "By quality time, I mean helping out."
"Hah! You, help out? Not on my nelly – all you ever do is cause a mes—" and then he stopped short, as if remembering a rather upsetting event. He looked up apologetically, and Jack realized that Bunny might've been feeling bad about the time when he'd persecuted Jack prior to guardianhood. He laughed and clapped the rabbit on his broad back.
"Bygones, 'Roo. So can I help or what?"
"By all means," he shrugged. Picking up an egg, he showed the boy his half-finished work. "I'm hand-painting a few of these googies. Most of 'em are done on their own, but there'll be a few beauties I'm personally putting out there. Ankle biters finding them will be real tinny."
"So all I gotta do is paint eggs?" Jack picked one up himself, staring at it. "Cool. I can do that. You'd probably have to worry about being overshadowed though – I make a mean painting. Baby Tooth totally declared me the Picasso of America."
Bunny laughed. "Bloody show pony."
The pair set to work. Facing the rabbit, Jack picked up a brush and aligned it vertically, as if to judge the distance between objects. Then, bringing it down again, he licked his lips and began to paint, a very intense look on his face. Bunny stared at him, a brow arched, and after a few minutes he could bear his curiosity no longer.
"Ay Jack, mate?"
There was no response.
"Ice Block?" he inched closer.
"Don't move," a hand flew up and pushed Bunny into a straight sit again. "I'm almost done."
Bunny sat, still watching him inquisitively, until at long last, with a loud whoop, Jack jumped up, egg hoisted in the air. "DONE!"
"Good on ya. Now let me see," Bunny said eagerly, despite himself.
Jack handed him the egg. Smiling, he took it in his paw. And then his jaw went slack.
On the egg was a crudely drawn picture of a lumpy blue-gray rabbit with a very fierce face with big eyebrows, and enormous buttocks. On the top, right under an equally crudely drawn picture of a crow depositing liquid stools on the rabbit's head was a cartoon dialog box with the words, "I'm the Easter Bunny, mate. My mother was a Kangaroo."
When Bunny looked up again, Jack was already twenty feet away, laughing.
"Oh no you don't!" the rabbit got up and scampered after him on all fours. "Li'l Larrikin! I'll get ya fer this!"
They raced over the grassy knolls of the Warren, laughing and shouting playful insults at each other. Dusk came and the flowers began to glow and light up the fields. Bunny caught up with Jack, and he sprung at the boy with all his might. Thrown off balance, they rolled down the small hill, a little way down the pebbly banks of the glistening paint river and in into the paint river itself they fell.
Jack surfaced, gasping, followed by Bunny. Catching their breaths, their giggling sobered into grins as they stared at each other.
Cricketsong filled the air. The paint around them glimmered as they took in the light of the gleaming flowers, pink, blue, gold and white. There were no stars in the Warren, and yet somehow, they – eons of them - were reflected in the ageless, yet ancient, green eyes of the Pooka.
He tangled his cool hands into the fur of Bunny's shoulders, sliding closer. His tone was cheeky as he smiled his taunt. "Caught me now, you big marsupial. Feeling proud?"
"Can't say I made a blue doing that, mate."
"Nope."
They leaned in, and arms round his neck, Jack kissed his cheek.
"G'night, Kangaroo," he said, his voice low. He climbed out and raised his staff.
"'Night," Bunny replied, for a moment staring dreamily back. And then he gave a start and jumped out of the river.
"Wait!"
But Jack was already several feet in the air, his laughter echoing down a tunnel he'd gone up in. He'd heard the rabbit calling out for him to wait, of course, but he didn't stop.
Had he only looked back, he'd have seen Bunny, paw on his cheek, with a heated look on his face.
END May 12, 2013