I just want to say thank you to Blue and Demi Clayton, my first reviewers! I don't know if you can tell but I'm very happy :)

Chapter 4: This is war

"OI FROSTBITE! GET YA SCRAWNY LITTLE ARSE DOWN HERE SO I CAN KICK YA INTO NEXT WEEK!"

"And why would I do that?"

"ELSE I'LL MAKE YA!"

"Is that a challenge cotton-tail?" Jack's mischievous laugher echoed throughout the North Pole as he balanced precariously on one of the wooden beams supporting the ceiling, out of reach of the furious Pooka, taunting him.

Honestly, he hadn't meant to do this, but Bunny's reaction was making him think he should have done it sooner.

Below, the exasperated Guardian of Hope was on the verge of murdering the Winter Spirit. Was it not enough that he put up with his endless jokes and teasing, his tardiness, his carefree attitude and lack of respect, now he was the victim of his pranks too? An array of multicoloured dye dripped from his fur, staining the polished wood of the Globe room a variety of colours. Around him, the elves and a few of the yetis had stopped their work, too distracted by walking rainbow in front of them.

He was so going to pay for this.

Quicker than you could say 'Easter', Bunny had whipped out one of his boomerangs and, with such preciseness you could only gain from centuries of experience, hurled the wooden object at Jack, who was paying no attention to his surroundings, swinging his legs carelessly from the shaft.

"Whoa!," His reflexes were just quick enough and he was able to jump out of the ways mere seconds before the weapon collided with him. "You missed!" The Guardian of fun teased, not noticing his rival's paw held high in the air, calling the object back to its master.

"Did I?" The Pooka quipped, a victorious smirk evident on his face. Jack barely had time to register the comment before his back was struck forcefully and he was thrown to the ground, his staff clattering to the floor, well out of his reach. Just to make sure though, Bunny kicked it aside with his foot. He couldn't have Jack making a hasty retreat now, could he?

An oddly evil gleam sparkled in his eyes as he sat himself down on his opponents back. Not enough to crush him but enough to stop him from being able to get away. One of the things Jack hated above all else was apologising, so Bunny decided that, as punishment, he would not move until the rascal had said he was sorry.

This was the sight North was greeted with as he walked in to check on toy management and he was surprised, to say the least.

To a passer- by, who didn't know the reason for the odd arrangement, the situation would look very odd. Jack was squirming under the weight of a very bright 300-pound Pooka, desperately trying to reach for his staff. He wasn't going to get it, it was too far away, but he was trying nonetheless and his face was puffed red from the effort. It was, in the very least, a peculiar situation to catch them in.

He knew straight away that this was most-likely the result of one of their (very) frequent quarrels but with Christmas less than two months away, he was not in the mood for a disaster in the workshop which was sure to set production back and he could afford no mistakes after the Pitch debacle.

Without a second thought, he marched up to the colourful Pooka, grabbed him by his boomerang holster and flung him into the air. Jack scrambled to reach his staff as the Bunny grumped in protest.

The yetis watched in amusement. You did not mess with Santa Claus and get away with it: he was not as jolly as the children's books portrayed him to be. And everyone knew that if you messed with Christmas, you messed with him.

Bunny's victorious smirk fell from his face as the large Russian turned him face to face. A stern glare was all it took to make the him back down, by which time Jack had removed himself from the floor and was floating cautiously in the air a few feet away, breathing heavily yet not attempting to hide the smirk on his face. The embarrassment from Bunnymund was victory enough to him.

"I don't even want to know. I expect this childish behaviour from him," North pointed at the floating winter spirit "but not from you."

As North scolded the rabbit, Jack could practically see the fumes coming out of his ears. He let out a small snigger. North whipped around to face him, a stern look in his eyes. "That does not mean you should act that way, Jackson." North never used his full name.

Uh oh he thought, backing away slightly for safe measure.

The Russian cast one last glance at the pair, sighing at the state of his room. Moon help me, he muttered as he shook his head and walked away, leaving a fuming rabbit behind. Bunny considered throttling the kid on the spot but thought his revenge would be sweeter in due time. After all, revenge was a dish best served cold. He sent Jack one last scowl, a silent glare before stomping his foot on the ground and summoning a tunnel to take him back to his Warren.

All that was left of the recent activities were a few colourful footprints and splodges on the hardwood floor and a single red flower, bloomed from the spot of the closed tunnel.

Jack floated away happily, but Bunnymund would not go down so easily, especially not after that embarrassment. He would get his own back, that much was sure. This was not fun and games anymore, oh no.

This was a war. And he would win.