Let's Dance to Joy Division

Let's dance to joy division,
And celebrate the irony,
Everything is going wrong,
But we're so happy,
Let's dance to joy division,
And raise our glass to the ceiling,
Cause this could all go so wrong,
But we're so happy,
Yeah we're so happy.
-Let's Dance to Joy Division, The Wombats

watch?v=fKXe2T5YDQQ

Jack curled up in the branches of the tree, looking down over the town below and despite appearances was not sulking, thank you very much.

After all these years, he thought he would have some idea of why he was here, what he was supposed to do.

Yeah, he had a pretty good idea of what he could do, when it came to his powers – though he refused to be satisfied, kept pushing the limits because he could – but that didn't mean he knew what he was supposed to do with them.

Most of the other winter elementals were deferring to him, now. It was strange, and he wasn't sure what to think about it – some of them were older than he was, but they still were backing off when he showed up. It was nice to not have to fight them, at least. Winter spirits, other than Jack, weren't big on talking things out, and a lot of them were vicious.

General Winter had actually paled and fled when he'd landed, drawn by the scent of magic-fueled snow.

Jack glared up at the swirling clouds above him. The General had been brewing up a storm, and it was a nasty one. Now that he'd fled, it looked like the storm was Jack's problem. No one else was going to do anything about it, that was for sure.

He'd been tempted to just let it run its course, but the General's storms tended to be nasty, bitter things, with harsh snow and killing cold. If Jack were to leave it as it was, it would just continue on the course the General had started.

Of course, it didn't matter now who had started it – Jack was here, there were no other winter spirits around, let alone any with the power to control the storm, so he was going to be blamed for it whether he did anything with it or not.

It was going to be a big one, even if he did get it under control. It was ready to dump snow that was going to be measured in feet rather than inches.

Oh well...how did that saying go?

'If you're going to walk on thin ice – you may as well dance.'

With a grin, Jack lifted off the branch and took to the skies. The clouds were stubborn about going where he wanted them, but he danced along their surfaces anyway, letting his powers sink into them to turn harsh, brittle, biting snow into soft, fluffy, playful snow.

This was going to be a storm toremember.

Okay, so the storm still got a bit out of hand.

Jack might...just might...have gotten a little frustrated with having to clean up other people's messes and never being noticed or wanted and let his dance get angry. It had only been for a minute, but that minute still translated into a lot of snow.

Lots and lots of snow.

He was going to owe Spring big.

Still, people were going to know his name now. Spirits, most likely. Humans still thought of him as nothing more than an expression. He was probably going to be blamed for this rather than praised, but better to be infamous than forgotten, right?

This storm was going to cover most of North America's eastern half in feet of snow. It was already up to Jack's waist, and it wasn't quite over yet.

He landed in a tree, looking over the town he had found himself over when the storm finally died down enough he didn't need to give it constant attention lest it get out of hand and grow bitter again.

Down below came a flash of gray, and Jack spun on his branch, dropping to dangle from it to see better. Who or what would be out at this time of night, in this storm he'd directed here?

If it was a Wendigo...there was going to be a problem.

Five minutes later, Jack was sure it wasn't a Wendigo – it was way, way too fast for one of them. Plus, Wendigo didn't talk, let alone complain, though it was too quiet for him to make out the words, just the tone.

...holy crap, it's the Easter Bunny, Jack realized with a start as a pair of long ears swiveled toward him, their owner coming to attention.

He'd never actually gotten to see the rabbit before, since most of the time his job was over by the time Easter rolled around.

Suddenly he was spotted, the rabbit bounding over to the tree Jack was still seated in and starting to yell up at him, shaking a fist.

The accent was a surprise, that's for sure.

...it was Easter? Oh, so that was why the rabbit was out...and angry. Oops, Jack thought. The Easter Bunny wasn't in a mood to listen, that much was obvious, and no one ever listened to the explanations anyway.

The rabbit was continuing to rant, growing angrier the less attention Jack seemed to pay to him.

With a laugh, Jack went with impulse and swung down out of his tree, grabbing the rabbit's paw. The slick snow worked in his favor as he swung the rabbit into a dance, laughing with the wind as they spun and dipped.

The Easter Rabbit pulled away and Jack took to the air, still laughing as he dodged and spun just ahead of the grasping paws. It was still a dance, and even if the rabbit was still mad there was a hint of smile playing around his muzzle.

They continued their game slash dance, Jack still firing off the occasional snowball, the rabbit's cursing dying down as he jumped and ran, amusement and confusion – mostly confusion – replacing rage.

Suddenly they both froze as the sun broke over the horizon and they heard children cheering as they peeked out of their houses.

"Dude! Look at all the snow!"

"Look, eggs! The Easter Bunny still came!" a little girl's voice cried.

"I told you he could! Snow's not enough to stop the Easter Bunny!" her brother said happily, picking an egg up from the snow.

"...your fans are calling," Jack said quietly, drooping sadly, a small part of him wondering if anyone would ever say such things about him.

Deciding not to get too close to those strong paws, he swooped down and pressed a kiss to one overlarge ear. "Better get back to work, the storm'll be letting up now."

With that he took to the skies, disappearing rapidly as Bunny watched him go in confusion.

It wouldn't have been the first time a spirit had tried to ruin Easter...but they certainly never stuck around afterward to try and dance with him.

Maybe the gumby wasn't trying to ruin his holiday? Shaking his head, Bunny tapped open a hole. He'd been so sure, when he'd seen all that snow, that that was all it was – another jealous spirit trying to ruin another's special day. He was still angry, true, but...

There was no time to wonder about it now, he had more eggs to hand-deliver now that the snow was going to make the googies' short little legs unable to carry themselves where they were needed.

Maybe the spirit didn't mean to ruin Easter, but he sure didn't care about all the work Bunny had put into it or all the extra work he'd just made for him!

A/N: So...someone said about doing something for Blizzard of '68. I wasn't going to, but changed my mind at the last minute. Hope it's enjoyed.
Also, I tried to name Spring, but she remains stubbornly Spring. I would say she's the amalgamation of differently-named spring spirits, so she just goes by "Spring" among spirits.