How do I Loathe Thee?

Author's Forward: This fic is based on the film "Ten Things I Hate About You", which is also, in fact, where I pulled the chapter titles from. In essence, the premise is the same. A sibling wants to date, but cannot until another sibling begins to date. Said sibling, of course, has no interest in doing so... and blah, blah, blah. You get the gist; hilarious high school hi-jinx ensue.

What's different: the siblings are a boy and girl, Sokka does not need to outsource and/or manipulate someone into funding the project, Zuko has an incredibly meddlesome Uncle, and Hakoda is not an OBGYN, though he still practices his love with women all across the country.

Yes, this is a fandom cliche. However, to ease your concerns, I haven't seen the movie in years, nor have I successfully read another fic based off of it -so your chances of finding something fresh is probably remotely decent, if I do say so myself. -And now I'll shut up. Without further ado, please enjoy!

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Chapter One:

I Hate the Way you Talk to Me

Sokka thought it was completely unfair; he was, after all, older, suaver and hotter than Katara. Yet he was so cruelly restrained from sharing his natural-born gifts with the female world. At least until said Katara decided she too wanted to start dating. With his sister soundly at sixteen years old and a veritable high school spinster, Sokka was pretty sure hopes were nothing more than a pipe dream and would remain so unless something drastic happened... like a lobotomy or three. He hated to admit it, his precious baby sister was a walking, talking, man-hating beast. In a typical day, she probably averaged around four or five broken hearts, usually the same poor kid too.

He shook his head mirthfully at the thought. God bless little Aang, who tried so valiantly to tempt his sister into shark tank that was high school dating. Still, it was no dice and he was no closer to being able to ask Suki Flotman to the prom. She was willing, to an extent, to keep their fledgling relationship so tightly under wraps, but even though she was unbelievably understanding, she had no qualms skipping prom altogether if she couldn't have a real, public, non-concealed date. And Sokka thought this was a travesty: he'd pay good money to see that girl in a legitimate dress. (Not that he didn't appreciate the way she looked all the time... if only for fear of violent repercussions. His secret girlfriend was pretty feisty.) Action had to be taken. Something had to be done. There was no way, absolutely no way he'd miss taking his girl to the prom.

"Dad, please!" Sokka begged on hands and knees in his father's office.

Hakoda Wattribe, Mayor of Ocean County, looked down his nose at his son, glasses held loosely to the side. His newspaper was flattened against the mahogany grain of his desk and face was pulled tight in a calculating frown. He shook his head. "Sokka, there's a reason you aren't allowed to date-"

"Yeah," the boy grumbled, "because Katara's too frigid to-"

The man cleared his throat threateningly. "No," his voice cut, "It's because you are reckless and prone to flamboyant escapades. If you involve a girl in your ridiculousness, I don't even know what would happen." He sighed, heart melted slightly at the sight of his son's forlorn expression. More gently, he continued, "I am the mayor, Sokka. As much as I love you and your energy and your... creativity, we all need to behave and uphold an example to the community as long as we're under the public eye, don't you think?"

"Dad, I understand the need to, you know, be responsible and everything. What do you think I'm going to do? Go run out and get the first girl I meet pregnant? I'm seventeen! What do I need with a kid? Come on, dad!" He got to his feet and circled around the desk to his father's side, throwing an arm around the older man's shoulders. He turned on his best politician schmoozing voice, "You know me! I'm your eldest, your handsome, responsible, well-liked son! Can't you cut me a break, just this once?" Then, he deployed his trump card (puppy dog eyes) and hoped for the best. It was his ace in the hole, his last-ditch effort. If his father could resist, it was all for naught.

It was all for naught.

The older man picked up his newspaper and swiveled his chair around, creating a barrier between him and his son. "You know the rules; when Katara dates, so can you."

Sokka cried out in agony and collapsed to the floor in a heap.

As luck would have it, for all his 'flamboyant escapades' and recklessness, Sokka was actually a tactical genius. And so he was undaunted; he did not to take his sister's lack of interest in the opposite sex lying down. He was a man of action! A man with a part-time job at Swords n' Things and a moderate disposable income! He pulled out his notebook and a bank statement. How much would it cost to pay someone to seduce his sister? As far as he could tell, there weren't any comparables posted on the internet...

And as it was his very own little sister in question, there was the matter of choosing the appropriate person to take on the challenge. Someone he could ultimately trust to keep his hands to himself, someone-

"I'll do it!" Aang Beallede cheerfully volunteered, "You don't even have to pay me!"

Sokka gave the kid a dry look. "Right, points for enthusiasm Aang, but you've been trying to pick up my sister for two years; if she hasn't bit by now, she ain't gonna. Besides, you're only fourteen. She needs a man, someone to sweep her off her feet, someone tall and debonair… someone with a driver's license."

"Hmph," Aang pouted. "Having a car isn't everything you know, and I'll have one soon enough anyway… I'll be able to get my permit in eight months!"

"It might not be everything, little buddy," Sokka replied absently as he poured through last year's yearbook, "but it certainly counts for a lot of something... How about this guy?" He held it up.

"Jet? You want to set your sister up with Jet Freemont?" the boy asked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "He's a thug! He used to stuff me into lockers on a daily basis when I was a freshman!"

"Haha, yeah," Sokka wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. "Those were some good times." At Aang's glare, he added, "What? You were small! It's not like he had to hurt you to get you in one... And, anyhow, I've heard he's really changed since graduation last year. He volunteers a lot at the local Boys and Girls Club and even took on a little brother through Big Brothers, Big Sisters. …And I think he plans to go to college, at some point… eventually. Maybe."

"Yeah, well," Aang said stuffily, "I still think you should keep looking. He only picked on me because I skipped two grades and that's-"

"That's not why he picked on you, Aang."

"What, then why would he-"

"Because," Sokka rubbed the bridge of his nose, troubled by having to explain the simple concept, "You may not realize it, but there are times when you are insufferably annoying."

Aang raised an eyebrow. "Well there's a pot calling the kettle black."

Sokka evidently didn't hear him. "What about Zuko Nations?"

Aang couldn't recall the name, he took the yearbook from Sokka and searched for it on the page. It was halfway to the bottom and had no picture. "What? Where's his photo?"

"He transferred in the middle of last year," Sokka took the book back. "So he missed picture day. He's the new guy, you know? The one from the West? I've heard he lives with his grandfather or uncle or something over that teashop on 5th Street."

"Oooh, him!" He remembered the guy now. They had their lockers across the hall from each other last year. Zuko seemed an odd choice, he was quite and taciturn and there were horrible rumors about why he'd transferred there in the first place… and then there was that nasty scar of his. He didn't strike Aang as a particularly amiable individual, let alone dating material. "Why him?"

"I dunno," Sokka shrugged. "He looks tough, which is absolutely necessary when it comes to dealing with Katara... And, though she may claim she's not interested in anything more than the field hockey team and school, I know she's got a thing for fixing people. If anyone needs 'fixing', it's this guy." He nodded definitively. "He's a veritable goldmine of issues and emotional baggage. He's just the kind of guy that could intrigue her. He's absolutely perfect, I've decided that he is without a doubt-"

"One problem."

"Eh? What's that?"

"I'm pretty sure he's got a girlfriend." Aang smirked. He remembered all too well one day listening to the surly older boy sneaking a call on his cell phone during passing period. Especially since, immediately after, Zuko threatened him not to breathe a word about the phone call to anyone... Aang was nearly positive he'd forgotten about that threat by now. Most likely. "Her name is Meng or something."

"Damn," Sokka smacked his fist to his palm. "Well, maybe they broke up? Anyway, it's worth a shot. I don't want him to actually date Katara, just pretend to."

"You know she'll kill you when she finds out," Aang warned.

"If," Sokka corrected, "If she finds out." He stood with plans in hand and set off to find the boy in question as soon as possible so they could negotiate costs.

Aang shook his head as he followed after. "When."

People like Zuko tended to do mysterious, intriguing things, like stare blankly into bodies of water or loiter in dark corners listening to dark, obscure bands- probably on a horrendously outdated cassette player with over-sized headphones. It was this understanding that Sokka had in mind when he set off in search of Eligible Bachelor Number One. After hours of fruitless searching in parks and dark alleys, he was just about ready to give up.

"I think he works at his uncle's teashop on the weekends," Aang pointed out when Sokka showed up at his house in a forlorn cloud of defeat. "You might want to try there." He didn't particularly want to help get Katara to date another person, but Sokka was his friend, and he understood the older boy's plight... Plus, the sooner this whole fiasco blew up in Sokka's face, the sooner his life could go back to normal.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that!"

Aang wisely chose not to answer.

The Jasmine Dragon teashop was popular with the locals almost as soon as it opened the previous year. The owner, a kindly older man by the name of Iroh, was renowned for his hospitality, good nature, and delicious teas. It was a pleasant little place, with a small patio area out front and comfortable armchairs and tables littering the interior. A small, elevated platform sat in one corner that was typically used for the rare open mic event, or whenever they wanted to fire up the old karaoke machine. Outside the building, around the corner in the alleyway, was the stairwell that led to the small apartment unit on the second floor of the building. It was there that the old gentleman lived with his surly, enigmatic ward.

Sokka had only visited the teashop a handful of times. As it stood, he hadn't been in months, mostly because Suki stopped going to there to study after school once it's popularity grew and it lost it's tranquil quiet. Of course, when Sokka wandered in at two o'clock that Sunday afternoon, the establishment was mostly dead.

The bell at the door tingled, calling the curator to attention. He appeared immediately from behind the counter. "Welcome, friend, what can I do for you on this fine day?"

"Hey," he waved uncertainly. The man looked like Santa Claus and Sokka was almost driven to give up his mission on the grounds that the man was likely to disapprove of his nephew selling his services. And though Sokka had long since ceased to believe, it wasn't an easy compulsion to quell: the man had eyes and ears everywhere. "I was actually wondering if you could tell me where to find Zuko Nations, I heard he works here on weekends."

"Oh but of course!" the old man cried congenially. "Zuko's been working in the back lately," he sneakily glanced around before adding in an exaggerated stage-whisper, "not a people person." He grinned. "But I'll go back and see if I can't find him for you. What was your name?"

"Oh, it's Sokka."

He blinked. "...Sokka? As in Sokka Wattribe? The Mayor's son?"

The 'Mayor's son' chuckled nervously. This was exactly the kind of thing his dad would kill him for... "Yup, the very same!"

"And that would make Miss Katara your younger sister," Iroh concluded with a sage nod.

Sokka did a double-take. "Uh… yeah. Do you know her?"

He laughed, "I'll say! She and my nephew had quite the altercation here three days ago." He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. "I thought they'd tear the whole place down the way they were carrying on."

Sokka paled; he could practically see the ashes of his beautiful plan as it went up in smoke. "What?"

"You're not here to beat up my nephew on her behalf, are you?" Iroh asked in a deadly serious tone.

"N-no!" He backed away, waving his hands placatingly in front of him. "Of course not! I didn't even know they'd gotten into a fight until just now!"

"Shame," Iroh shook his head. "My nephew is a good boy, but he certainly needs to learn a thing or two about dealing with young ladies, especially ones like your sister."

"Whaddya mean, ones like my sister?" Sokka demanded. No one had the right to say anything bad about his sister, true or not. Except him.

"Why, beautiful and intelligent, of course!"

"Oh… right, yeah," he mumbled. Well, Zuko's uncle somehow seemed to like Katara, so perhaps the situation wasn't a complete loss. "What exactly happened between the two of them, anyway?"

"I think they bumped into each other, neither one was watching where they were going and they both went down like lead balloons," Iroh explained. "It was quite funny; they were both doused in tea from head to toe."

That explained why Katara came home the other day, more riled and surly than usual, smelling of chamomile and ginseng. Of course, she wouldn't utter a word of what had happened, and said nothing more to him than a sharp "Mind your own business!" before marching upstairs and starting the shower.

"Anyway," Iroh continued, "My nephew's usual reaction in such situations is to immediately jump onto the offensive and accuse the closest person of being at fault. I believe his response was something along the lines of 'watch where you're going you stupid-', well, such words don't bear repeating…"

Sokka was livid. That- that heathen called his baby sister a… a bitch? Or well, he assumed he did at least. That was the most common name tossed around behind her back, but that didn't make it okay! "What did Katara do?"

Iroh scratched at his beard. It was a compromising situation to be sure…

The Jasmine Dragon was unusually quiet that night, just a couple of older patrons and Miss Katara, who'd taken to reading in the corner booth. He'd always thought her to be such a sweet, gentle young woman. It was by chance, what happened, really. There was a table full of professors from the local university that had arrived and Zuko was preparing their orders. The boy had seemed a bit distracted and out of sorts that day- which probably did nothing to help avoid the situation.

It was at that moment, her eyes on the front window, that Katara chose to stand and stretch… right in Zuko's path. Said boy was too preoccupied preventing the contents of his tray from spilling to notice the sudden roadblock, and, as Iroh said, they fell to the ground like lead balloons.

Katara screeched when the hot liquid soaked into her back. The duo lurched forward before they fell back on to one another. They laid there dazedly for a moment before Zuko started barking at her.

"Watch where I'm going?" she yelled back, "Why don't you start paying more attention? You're the waiter, and as far as I can tell, I wasn't going anywhere; I was standing in one place you idiot!"

"It's not my fault that you standing in one place is the equivalent of a normal person standing in ten!" he snapped. It was a weak insult, as Katara was a slim, athletic girl. She was aware of as much too.

"Are you trying to call me fat? You sexist pig! Why can't you just admit that you weren't paying attention to your job? It would do you better than fishing for lame insults, anyway."

Iroh watched the situation unfurl with humor. Evidently, the polite, complacent Miss Katara was actually a spitfire. He was especially amused with how they'd yet to disentangle themselves in favor of berating one another. In fact, they were still arguing and screaming at one another even after Iroh had replaced the orders for the professors.

He stood behind them and cleared his throat.

"Pardon me for interrupting," he grinned at them, "but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you two to stop. You're disrupting the ambiance."

Zuko scowled and hastily got to his feet. He stomped to back to the kitchen and slammed the door.

Katara looked scandalized, as if she'd only just realized she'd used nearly every bad world in the English language (and some extra ones too) in front of witnesses. She leapt to her feet, "I am so sorry! I didn't even think about… I'm so sorry for causing a scene!"

Iroh chuckled. "It's not your fault, Zuko wasn't watching where he was going, plain as day." He patted the girl on her sticky shoulder, then rubbed his hand clean on his apron discreetly.

"And that's what happened," Iroh finished with a flourish of his hand.

"Interesting," Sokka rubbed his chin. It was a long shot, but perhaps he could make this work to his favor...

"I was thinking," the older man began tentatively, "that I should make Zuko go and apologize. Perhaps take her out for an evening. As her older brother, how would you feel about that?"

"I am willing to offer monetary compensation," Sokka replied without hesitation.

"Eh?"

Sokka decided the old man was alright and they both, in their own ways, wanted the same thing: for Zuko to take Katara on a date. He figured he may as well tell him his plight. "See, it's like this..." When he finished his tale, Iroh stroked his beard.

"That is a most intriguing situation," he said at length. "You wish to pay my nephew to date, or, for lack of a better word, seduce your sister, in order for you to take your girl to the prom, have I got that right?"

"Yep, that's pretty much the plan."

"Intriguing." Sokka could almost see the cogs in the old man's mind working.

"Uncle," A miserable sounding voice called from the back. "I've finished detailing the kitchen." Zuko then appeared, wiping his hands off on a cloth. He took in the conspiratorial looks on his uncle's and Sokka's. "What's going on?"

Iroh took the reigns then. He clapped Sokka on the shoulder. "You'll remember that lovely young lady you got into a bit of a tiff with a couple days back?"

Zuko nodded, but added, "I wouldn't exactly call her lovely, but I remember her."

"Wonderful!" his uncle cried. "Well, this is her older brother."

Zuko paled and looked at the boy, who smirked at him a little dangerously. He knew Sokka from the Kendo club at school, though they'd never directly spoken. Zuko didn't speak to much of anybody. The kid was an idiot half the time and a complete buffoon, but he was Sensei Piando's pet and easily one of the most talented club members. He wasn't exactly someone you wanted to be on the bad side of, even if Zuko did think he'd be able to hold his own against him. He shifted on his feet, passing the towel from and to hand. "Hey."

Sokka tilted his chin in greeting.

"Anyway," Iroh continued. "We were just having a discussion about what happened here the other day. Sokka feels that you should apologize to his sister and would like for you to treat her to a friendly dinner."

"Are you kidding me?" Zuko blanched, throwing the towel to the ground. "That girl hates me! I've literally run into her three times since then and she always bristles up like a spitting cat! Even if I wanted to apologize, I couldn't get near her!"

"Well, you best try, because you'll be stuck on kitchen detailing until you've gotten this whole thing sorted out," Iroh shrugged passively.

"What, but that's- you can't be serious, that's not fair!"

"Sokka here will help you out, I'm sure of it. Won't you, my boy?" Iroh clapped him on the shoulder.

Sokka grinned. Telling Iroh his plan was the best idea he'd ever had, and best of all, the whole operation wouldn't cost him a thing! "Sure, Zuko. I'll tell you everything you need to know to get back on her good side."

"Does she even have a good side?"

Sokka chuckled.

There we have it. The first chapter.

This fic is going to be light, not too heavy, and probably not too long. I'm writing it for fun. As long as I'm having fun, the chapters will keep rolling. This chapter underwent editing and revision as of August 25th (and again on December 23rd), but if you happen to see any more typos or glaring grammatical problems, please let me know. Any feedback on pacing, humor, voice, etc, is also welcome -just, to quote Flight of the Conchords, "be constructive with your criticism". Oh, and that was a joke earlier, in the author's note, about Hakoda and the women, hopefully someone got it...

Well, with any luck, we should be in for a fun, easy ride.

Peace out,

Doily