A/N: Some Quick Facts About This Fic
Chapters: Infinite
Pairing: Mai x Ozai with appearances of AzulaxTy Lee, AzulonxIlah, ZukoxKatara and UrsaxIroh.
Rated: T for sexual themes, mature humor and moderate language.
Notes: This is for #MaizaiMonday. They're chronological drabbles set in the Dynasty Universe, starting with Mai's pregnancy with Valerie and going on beyond that. There shouldn't be Tyzula spoilers afoot, even though this is a few years or so post-Spring Fever.

ATTACK OF THE SLIME CREATURES

"It's like the old Woody Allen joke from Annie Hall where he says all the little boys fall for Snow White, but he was instantly attracted the Evil Queen."
-Wayne Gladstone-

#01: Desperate

"Well, they don't have huckleberry ice cream in New York, so I don't know what you expect me to do. And it isn't as if we can enlist the help of Azula and Ty Lee because we had to stop in this sketchy motel," growls Ozai Shinohai in his regal, commanding, CEO voice.

Mai is not afraid of it; she never has been. She stands there, her feet stuck to the sticky, frayed carpet in the room that smells like bleach—probably to cover up all of the dead bodies—and stares her husband down. She is shorter than him, much smaller than him, much younger than him, but looks at him like she is Bruce Willis staring down the barrel of a gun at a villain.

She is five months pregnant and she has never felt numerous states it has brought on. By far the worst is cravings that make her want to use someone's eyes as dartboard targets every second she does not have it.

Right now, she thinks she might scream.

"We had to stop in Ithaca to make your insane parents happy and have a horrible, horrible fucking lunch with them and your father decided to name our baby which could have been avoided if we flew directly to them, so this is entirely your fault," Mai says. Her voice is cold, poised and dry, but her eyes are wild like Ozai has never seen them.

He says, very casually adjusting his tie and looking down at the suitcases that probably will become infested overnight, "I could have kept driving if you didn't threaten to grab the steering wheel and crash into the Adirondacks if we didn't find somewhere to stay."

"You could overpower me very easily if you wanted to," Mai says, although she knows that argument is absurd. Arguing in the first place is absurd; she does not usually feel passionately enough about something fight over it. "And this is a horrid, desperate situation that has left me even more dead inside than I already was at birth." Mai sits down on the sole bed and softly sighs. Very calmly, she states, "I don't know why I care. I just honestly think I'm going to stab everyone in this entire town to death."

"Well, that is easier than getting you huckleberry ice cream. Why don't you get out your switchblade and I can drive you from neighborhood to neighborhood? This seems like the kind of place where they keep the doors unlocked."

She sits down on the bed. It screeches even under her average weight. He strides to stand across from her and she rolls her eyes. Mai is mad at him, but she cannot handle the moments he is romantic enough to suggest assisting her in a brutal murder spree with nothing but a switchblade and boot knife, with maybe throwing stars. Well, whatever she has in her purse.

"You know why I don't dislike you?" Mai asks. "That's a serious offer."

"Of course it is. A murder spree is much sexier than any dessert," says Ozai. He reaches for her arm and she edges away. That makes his eyes flash, but Mai does not flinch like a sane person would.

"I'm very serious about the huckleberry ice cream. I want you to pay a guy to get on a plane and go get me some ice cream and bring it back here within the next four hours."

"Which is impossible without breaking the laws of space and time."

Mai shouts so rarely, but she hollers this time, "Why won't you break the laws of space and time for me? Am I that unimportant?"

Ozai has no response to his wife's outburst. Mai had no idea she even knew how to raise her voice like that.

"I think you should put on a nice slasher movie or something dark in black and white, and I will pay someone to get you blueberries and vanilla ice cream," Ozai says, touching her shoulder and then pressing down to keep her on the bed.

"Why are you treating me like a child?" demands Mai, struggling to keep her even tone. It breaks on the last word.

"Because you are acting like one."

"You know, remember when I told you I never talked or thought about kids?"

"Yes, you hated them so much that your parents bribed the teachers to let you drop stats in order to avoid the buddy program with the first graders, and are still bitter about an old man you had to sit next to on a plane who told you that you'd change your mind one day, and you will never forgive that stranger even though you have changed your mind since it was your idea not to get an abortion."

"While that is all true, I did lie by omission. I talked to Zuko about having kids one day, once we were engaged. It was a question they asked us about in premarital counseling. He said he wanted children but was deeply afraid that he would be terrible at parenting. Do you know what I said?"

"That he was right?"

"That so long as he wasn't as terrible as his own father, he'd be a good parent. I added that it wouldn't be hard to be a better father than you."

Ozai clenches a fist and punches the wall. She does jump, for the first time. It does not feel remotely satisfying when his usually dry, calm, icy wife is comparing him to Zuko. He has the strong urge to burn this motel to the ground and get back into the car after she passes out from smoke inhalation.

"At least I'm not in prison like your father," he says through clenched teeth.

Mai crosses her legs and entirely reins in her tone. She sounds cold and composed when she dryly says, "I didn't say my dad was even remotely decent at parenting. I mean, I obviously have some pretty strong issues with him if I'm married to an elderly man like you."

Ozai now genuinely considers the arson option. "I'm getting you vanilla ice cream and blueberries." He is father of the year, and should be sainted, for keeping calm.

The coolness of her tone and hardness of her eyes makes the next part sound far, far worse than if she were yelling it. "Blueberries are not huckleberries and I would rather lose the baby than eat them instead. I'm sure it would make you very happy since your father disapproves and even though everyone thinks you're such a powerful Roman Emperor type, he rules your life and turns you into a groveling slave to his absurd whims and awful name for our daughter."

He grabs the hideous lamp and smashes it into the cheap television, which, honestly is doing this place a favor. She bites the inside of her cheek and stays stony and statuesque even as broken glass rains on her feet.

Ozai grits his teeth and then thinks like the politically-minded man he is.

"If you fight this craving and stomach this trip, we will name her Valerie." Ozai has never seen Mai surprised until this moment. "That's name I like, anyway. My father can go fuck himself."

Mai does not know if she believes him, but she will scrawl that name on the birth certificate herself if she must.

"Thank you," she does say, standing and kissing him.

It is the kindest thing Ozai Shinohai has ever done.

But, it might not count is pure generosity when it is such an act of desperation.