The Spark

It was ten years to the day, Pitch was defeated and the world was safe from the threat of him and his dark plots. And though Jack was glad that was over and done with, the monotony of everyday caught up with him, and he was once again bored out of his wits.

"Buuuuuunnyyyyyy…" Jack rolled the words in his tongue, "Pleeeaaaaaase?"

The Guardian of Hope sighed, "Not now, Frostbite, can't ya see I'm busy?" he said, his accent thick as always.

Jack sighed; Easter just ended and Bunnymund was once again preparing for next year's celebration. It was boring Jack to tears.

He laid back on one of the trees in the Warren, causing frost patterns from where his back met the bark of the tree. Bunnymund offered Jack a place to stay a few weeks after Pitch's defeat. Jack was wary at first, thinking this as a prank for the Blizzard of `68 incident. However, he eventually realized that this was a genuine offer, which he wholeheartedly accepted.

It didn't take Jack long to realize that Bunny was caught in some boring cycle of work. It was always preparing for Easter, Easter, then prepare for it again. It was a miracle Bunny left the Warren for North when Pitch rose to power.

Jack groaned pitifully, "Please, Bunny? You're always busy. Just one day-off?" he pleaded, for his sake and Bunny's.

Bunny sighed again; it was true, he did notice the continuous cycle of work he put himself in. Maybe a day-off wouldn't be so bad after all?

Bunny turned towards Jack, who was lazily drawing patterns made of snow using his staff on the tree leaves.

"Fine," Bunny muttered. Jack's eyes widened.

"WOOOOPPEEEEEE!" Jack exclaimed, jumping in the air and causing cold winds to blow around the Warren.

"Oy! Just one day, mate. That's my condition." Bunny warned. Jack nodded eagerly.

"I've got just the thing!" Mischief was evident in Jack's voice as Bunny raised an eyebrow.

"Do ya, now?" Bunny grinned. Jack's laughing faltered as he stared at the Pooka.

"What?" Bunny asked.

"N-nothing…" Jack stuttered. He turned away, frost tingeing his cheeks. "Let's go!" his voice a bit steadier, now.

He flew off to one of the holes that lead to the surface, frost in his cheeks still evident. Because unknown to the Pooka who was following behind the white-haired boy, Jack Frost felt sparks in his heart, filling him with warmth that he had not felt since the day he died.

So what do you think? This is my first ever fanfic, I hope you enjoyed it and that you wll enjoy the other chapters to come. R&R Peoplez! Suggestions would be appreciated!