Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the last airbender. I idolize the people who do. I am not responsible for any trauma you may experience when reading this piece of purely fan-made fiction.
A/N:These plot bunnies are killing me. I must be ADD. I can't bring myself to focus on my other fic right now. maybe this weekend. sorry. This was inspired by an artist/writer named Marie Lu and her character sketch of her protagonist saying "You, sir, look like you could use another shot!" It was too cute xD
So here is a little oneshot
Summary: In order to gain more cash in the fire nation, Katara must work in a town nearby their camp. When Zuko shows up to get a cold drink on a hot day, all of their doubts are brought to the surface.
Another Shot:
It wasn't often the crown prince of the fire nation has a chance to visit neighboring cities, but, when given a chance, Zuko is glad to get away from his "home" at the fire nation court.
It is a time he was able to be himself and put down the mask he usually wears of an ideal prince. Or lap dog, he thinks cynically as he enters a bar downtown, grateful for the change in temperature. Years away from his home had wiped the memories of fire nation summers from his brain. The humid heat of the island was beginning to beat down on him in his hooded cloak. (No one has to know where the prince goes in his down time.)
Leaving the palace was the only way he had been able to think clearly since he'd arrived home. It had become a necessity to get away from Azula's constant teasing and calculating and his father's constant pressure to be "a son to be proud of." Away from the web of lies that decorated the corridors of the fire nation capital, he is able to reflect on his actions.
Reflect on his actions…
His thoughts always managed to circulate back to his choices in Ba Sing Se, despite his efforts to keep away from it. He can't turn back now: he is with his father in this war (even though I never agree with father on anything anymore-but that's not the point.) and he can't go back on his decision. It's definitely not good to dwell on the past. This is his destiny-he's sure of it.
He sits down at the bar; dying of thirst and greatly looking forward to the ice cold drink he's going to order. They never ask for your age in the fire nation and he had found he enjoyed the relaxation that the alcohol offered.
He sees the bartender in the corner of his vision making her way from each customer to the next, anticipating the cold drink he'll ask for.
It would seem his destiny had other ideas, however.
"You, sir, look like you could use another shot." He hears the familiar voice as the bartender tempts a worn looking man into another purchase, jerking his head up. It is the waterbender.
He is paralyzed to his seat, only focused on breathing as his head spins a little. He had sworn to himself he would not think about her-about what he did, and yet here she is, a blazing reminder dressed in the red clothes of his own nation.
Only in the last second before she comes over does he remember to keep his head down so the water tribe girl can't see his face.
"And what would you like, sir? Keep in mind, we do not offer lap dances."
He feels himself blushing and his eyes widening, glad for the cover of his red cloak. He clears his throat nervously and answers in a lower voice than he needs to.
"Just a glass of water." It will not do for him to lose his better judgment now, he decides. Or maybe he needs to lose his better judgment now and forget completely who he is. Too late.
She nods and gets to work as he chastises himself. A glass of water. What was he thinking? He could have made his escape, but a simple glass of water will not give him time to.
So much for relaxation. He is prepared to make a run for it if he has to. Adrenaline pumps through him, keeping him on edge.
He watches her work from under the hood of his cloak in silence. She works gracefully and quickly, humming a song as she places the glass in front of him.
"We don't charge anything for water," she says with a note of sarcasm in her voice and a sly smile. "But I would greatly appreciate a tip." He supposes the concept of subtlety is lost on her.
She makes her way around helping anyone else who loafs about the place as he downs his drink, keeping his face out of her line of sight. He is grateful for the drink, but that does not keep the whole experience from being more awkward than it needs to be. Why is she working in a bar anyways?
…Why is she working in a bar? Zuko thinks about this, amused in his slight panic. How did she get the job, and why is she dressed in revealing clothing? He supposes he will never find out.
Digging coins out of his small pack, he gets up to leave, hurriedly. He is determined to leave without her seeing him again. Nothing will distract him from his destiny. He can't have second thoughts now. It is too late.
His destiny doesn't let him off the hook so easily.
A refreshing breeze is rare in any town in the fire nation. The air usually stands disgustingly still as if to weigh down its heat on all those who breathe it. This is why Zuko cant help thinking that the gods are against him as a gust of wind blows the hood of his cloak back two inches when he swings the door of the tavern open. He hopes the girl does not notice him in his haste to leave.
The fluttering of a blood-red robe catches Katara's eye as she shakes a martini for a middle-aged man who looked like he couldn't care for anything but himself. She snaps her head up to watch as the man from earlier left, placing the drink in front of the older man. A small gust of wind blows hood back to reveal his face.
She freezes. That scar-that outline of that chin, those lips, that nose-she's surprised she didn't see it earlier.
Zuko. Zuko, prince of the fire nation. Zuko, who had betrayed her trust in Ba Sing Se. Here.
He had seen her. He was disguised. Was he a spy? Would he tell his sister-or...his father?
Her eyes narrow. She jumps over the counter, and bolts out the door, ignoring the slurred protests of her half-drunk customers. The brilliant red of his cloak is easy to spot amongst the dull tones of the rest of the townspeople. She sprints after his form, shedding her apron as she runs. She isn't catching up. He is picking up speed.
She throws the apron on the ground as she runs and shouts at him, "HEY!"
He stops and turns around. Her anger uncurls inside her. It gives her the strength to shove him into an alley nearby.
The townspeople around them ignore the display as Zuko is pushed headfirst to the ground.
Katara walks up to stand between him and the flow of passerby. He stays there for a second, on his hands and knees.
"Get up." She sounds disgusted.
He gets up slowly. His back is to her.
She grabs him by the arm, jerking him around to face her.
He stares at her. She stares at him. He remains expressionless as her eyes narrowed.
Her fist flies towards him. He grabs her by the wrist-stopped her in mid swing causing her to stumble. She regains her footing and yanked her arm out of his grip.
"You bastard. You did this. How could you do this to us?" He notices the tears gathered at her eyelashes.
"I did what was right for my nation." He said it quietly, but forcefully. He pretends like he knew the words were true. Maybe if he says them enough they will be. He avoids eye contact.
"Oh, of course! The fire nation. Let me guess! It was your destiny, wasn't it?" She slaps him. This time he doesn't stop her.
"Or maybe your honor? The spirits know how much that means to you! Although I don't see where the honor is in lying to a girls face! Everything you told me was a lie!" Anything he's told her in the past is used to rail against him in her blind rage. A punch in the gut.
"I'll have to stop myself next time I start to believe you're human!" A kick to the shin.
He falls over. He stays on his hands and knees at her feet.
The weeks of doubt catch up to him. Tears form at his eyes as he awaits the blow: the next lesson in the same form as the last one. The kind of lesson taught with his banishment.
He is stuck in a pit of self-doubt from that moment on. He does not know whether or not anything he's done in the past was right. He is caught between good and evil. All he sees is that everything he's done is wrong. He sees that what he thinks is wrong was all that his father called right. The tears fall.
Katara sees this and analyzes what she said. She starts to feel bad.
What she said really struck a nerve (either that or that punch reached a little to low). She feels like a monster.
She kneels down in front of him cautiously. She starts to believe he's human again and does not stop herself. Her breath turns shallow and labored as if she was the one punched in the gut.
For a moment she is back in Ba Sing Se as she puts a hand on his quivering shoulder.
He jerks his head up and the illusion disappears. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow.
What do you want?
"I can't believe I almost…" She trails off.
Almost what?
Almost what? Almost beat him up? Almost healed him? Almost loved him? Almost believed he was human?
Katara gets up and holds a hand out towards him. He takes it. It is a strange moment between them. She helps him stand and lets go.
She leaves Zuko there, but the feeling of his hand lingers on her palm just as his eyes linger before hers.
The days go by and they both try to forget what happened-afraid that they may never think the same way again.
A/N: OMG :O please review n-n
EDIT: Corrected the errors. Sorry 'bout that: I wrote it at midnight xD And about TTWLY: I will update if you want me to but I am not at all happy with the ending I have planned. It is cheesey and cliche and I don't like it.
Fishy