Sokka's 11

by AddienaTheBlueSpirit

{Modern AU} Sokka Ocean, Fresh out of prison, he learns his mentor, Iroh Agni, has been weaseled out of his hotel by his own brother. Sokka gathers a team to exact revenge, make some cash, and, of course, win back his wife. Sokka/Suki, Ozai/Suki

1. Prologue

OCEAN'S 11

An A:TLA fanfic by AddienaTheBlueSpirit

Based on screenplay by

Ted Griffin

that based on a screenplay by

Harry Brown and Charles Lederer

that was based on a story by

George Clayton Johnson & Jack Golden Russell

Prologue

A door opened and closed, followed by approaching footsteps as a man, dressed in prison fatigues, entered and sat.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." he replied.

"Please state your name for the record."

"Sokka Ocean."

"Thank you. Mr. Ocean, the purpose of this meeting is to determine whether, if released, you are likely to break the law again. While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about this?"

"As you say, ma'am, I was never charged."

Three parole board leaders sat opposite Sokka. Judging him behind a

table.

"Mr. Ocean, what we're trying to find out is: was there a reason you chose to commit this crime, or was there a reason why you simply got caught this time?"

"My wife left me. I was upset." He said this all very off hand, "I got into a self-destructive pattern."

"If released, is it likely you would fall back into a similar pattern?"

"She already left me once. I don't think she'll do it again just for kicks."

A glance darted between the Board Members.

"Mr. Ocean, what do you think you would do if released?" Sokka considered this.

"I don't know. How much do you guys make a year?" Sokka deadpanned.

"Ocean, Sokka." Sokka stepped forth, and a guard doled out his possessions and a form certifying their return to Sokka. "Sign." the guard said, adding a piece of mail to the pile.

"This came today for you. Rest'll be forwarded to your parole officer."

The guard read its return address over Sokka's shoulder, "Those your lawyers?"

"My wife's."

He opened the letter, and as his eyes gazed over the papers within, he smirked just a little.

"What's it say?"

"I'm a free man."

Sokka pulled on civilian clothes and there's not a bare thread among them. He tugged his cuffs and smiled: The old skin feels good. One last item to don: a silver wedding band. Sokka considered it. Should he put it on?