The Great Tea Cup
. helium lost .

Author's Notes: Today, as I was sitting bored during choir (as we're not doing anything, since it's the end of the year), I pulled out a sheet of paper and began attempting to write something Avatar. Needless to say, it failed miserably. So I began asking myself questions. "Self," I said, "Why does Iroh like tea so much? Is there a secret meaning to this? In fact, what if the whole Avatar series were focused on tea? What if, instead of a war between the nations, there were a fierce competition between different enterprises?"

Thus came this cracked-up story.

Enjoy.

EDIT: Made some minor, hardly-noticeable changes (except for the changing of one adjective toward the end that totally changes the identity of a character). Heh. Still think it's too rushed, though >>;

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender © Nickelodeon and the others involved in the making and distribution of it. I'm just a teeny little fan. :)

Chapter One
Bad Luck

AKA:
Parting is always the hardest, unless you're Moses parting the Red Sea.

"I'll be fine, Gran-Gran." Katara smiled gently, tenderly holding her grandmother's worn, wrinkled hands in hers. Her eyes glittered; birds chirped in the background as the sun shone down genially on the scene. The sky was clear and a perfect baby-blue; a gentle wind ruffled Katara's hair, as if patting her head. "I promise that I'll write home every day. And I'll call, too."

Gran-Gran smiled back, tears forming in her eyes, sparkling. "My little Katara has grown so much…" She sighed nostalgically. "I remember when you were a wee baby… You were always giggling, always laughing, playing around with your toys… Then, you started to grow up, my little baby! You were always so responsible… always making sure that everyone else was taken care of… always thinking about others, instead of only yourself… We'll miss you, Katara. I don't know how we're going to manage without you."

Katara sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "It's okay, Gran-Gran. I'm sure there are others who will help you in an instant. And don't worry about me—I can take care of myself."

"What about me!" Sokka squawked, breaking the tranquility of the early morning. Katara sighed, annoyed. She turned to face Sokka, crossing her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to one foot, tapping the other. She had one eyebrow cocked dangerously. The corner of her mouth was turned downward in a slight frown.

"What about you?" Her eyes flashed accusingly.

"You do realize," Sokka said, leaning in close to her and jabbing a finger at her chest, "that you are fourteen, and that I am fifteen? And that we're about to go traveling around, unsupervised, in the gigantic maze that they call 'the city'? You realize that we have limited supplies, a limited amount of money, and a limited knowledge of the way the city works? And you're just ready to jump, head-on, into it? Are you crazy?"

"Sokka, I think we can manage on our own, thank-you-very-much," Katara said. She casually tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And, for your information, the tournament is providing room and board, as well as transportation. And I'm sure we can find a guide or helpful person here and there. So no worries."

Sokka frowned. "You're too naïve, Katara. People in the city aren't as kind as people here at home. You automatically assume that people are immediately willing to help, but you conveniently forget the fact that, every two hours, someone goes missing! And every three hours or so, someone is a victim of an assault, or a murder, or some other form of violence!" His voice began to crack. "Not to mention the fact that there are pickpockets at every corner, and people just waiting for the moment to snatch all our valuables and leave us, penniless, on the street! People aren't so nice there, Katara! Understand that!"

Katara shrugged. "I know. But as long as we're smart and don't panic, we'll be fine. But unfortunately, I don't think that you'll be able to do that."

"Me?" Sokka said, incredulously, pointing at himself. He raised his eyebrows as his jaw hung slack. "Me? For your information, I am the older and therefore more mature one of the two of us. I can handle things perfectly fine. And I do not do this 'panic' thing that you speak of," he said, raising the first two fingers on both hands and curving them to imitate quotes.

"Right." Katara rolled her eyes and glanced at the watch on her wrist. "It's eight fifteen already, Sokka. Keep this up, and we're going to miss our train. I don't think we should be late for the preliminaries." She heaved her bag over her shoulder and waved at her family. She pulled out the handle on her rolling suitcase, dragging it along behind her. "Let's go," she said, turning to walk toward the taxi waiting for them. She walked quickly, with long, confident strides, her braid bouncing against her back with every step she took. The wind blew at her long coat, making it billow behind her, like a cape.

"Oi! Wait for me!" Sokka cried out, waving at her. He quickly tossed on his backpack and pulled along his suitcase, only to have it catch on a crack and jerk him back, almost tripping him. He cursed beneath his breath and pulled at the suitcase, trying to free its wheel from the crack, but it stuck firmly. Letting out a yell of frustration, he gave it one final, heavy tug, and it popped out smoothly as if it were a greased pig slipping out from the hands of its captors. Sokka landed with a fwump on his rear and, cursing more, he got up and rubbed his tender bottom. Katara turned and looked at him inquiringly as Gran-Gran and the others laughed.

"Bye, Katara! Bye, Sokka!" called out some of the villagers, waving furiously. Sokka turned his head back and gave them a salute, then crashed head-long into a telephone pole. He cursed again, rubbing the red impression on his face; Katara, already seated in the backseat of the taxi, laughed behind her hand.

"C'mon, Sokka, you can't kill yourself before we even get there!" she said. "Put your stuff in the trunk. We don't have much time to spare."

"Yeah, yeah, mother," he muttered, heaving his luggage into the trunk, then climbed in to sit beside her. "Have the train tickets?"

Katara checked her bag. "Yep."

"Hotel passes?"

"Yep."

"Taxi fare?"

"Yep."

"Passports?"

"Oh, no!"

"What the—you forgot the passports!"

"Nope. Just kidding. They're right here."

Sokka groaned. "Don't do that to me! You almost gave me a heart attack!" He placed a hand on his chest, then breathed out deeply.

The taxi driver turned to face them, a slightly annoyed look on his face. "Where to?" he asked.

"Cold Spring Underground Station, please," she said, smiling. "And do you think you could take the fastest route? We're a bit short on time."

"No prob," he said, stepping on the gas pedal and swerving out of the driveway, tires screeching. Katara winced and clutched her seatbelt, swallowing nervously. Sokka cheered.

"Whoo-hoo! Man, I wished everyone would drive this fast; the rest of them are all wimps."

Katara rolled her eyes. The taxi swerved dangerously around some curves, throwing her and Sokka around. The taxi screeched to a jarring halt at every stop sign, then accelerated so quickly after that the sheer speed and force of it glued the two of them to their seats.

"Erm, if you don't mind, could you go a little slower?" she said hesitantly after a few minutes of this death-defying driving. The taxi driver glanced back at her, then over at Sokka, whose grin was beginning to fade from his face as it began to be replaced by a greenish tinge.

"Sure thing, toots," he said, releasing some pressure from the gas pedal. Katara let out a sigh of relief as Sokka leaned back into the seat, loosening up. Katara leaned against the window, watching as the countryside rolled by. She was going to miss home—she etched the images of the bare trees and sparkling water into her mind, tucking them into a safe corner. Tens of minutes passed by; Katara caught a brief glimpse of some ducks waddling by on the road—a mother duck and her little chicks. Katara smiled gently, then narrowed her eyes, irritated, as Sokka let out a particularly loud snore. She turned away from the window and saw him with his head tipped back, mouth wide open, a thread of saliva trailing down his cheek. She sighed again and took out her handkerchief, wiping off the trail and gently closing Sokka's mouth. She turned back to the window, then grit her teeth as Sokka let out another snore. Turning back to glance at him, she saw him with his mouth wide open again, a new trail of saliva forming. She decided to ignore him and just let him collect a pool of spit on his shoulder. It would be his own fault, anyway.

"So," the taxi driver said after another few moments of silence, "what're you and your bro up to in the city? I usually don't get a couple of kids goin' there alone."

"Oh, well, we're going for the Great Tea Cup," Katara replied. "It was Gran-Gran's idea, really."

"Great Tea Cup, eh?" the taxi driver said, as if chewing over the words. He paused. "Never heard'a it."

Katara smiled, scratching her head. "Well, honestly, I don't know much about it either, but I know that it's a pretty big thing in the tea community. But anyway, I'd prepared tea for Gran-Gran and her friend, and her friend said that my tea was pretty good… He suggested that I go to try out the Great Tea Cup. Supposedly, winning it and get the Award of Aang is supposed to be a great honor. Me, I just want to have some fun—try out something new. And Sokka doesn't like to show it, but he's really excited; he's been dying to improve his tea-brewing skills."

The taxi driver nodded. "So, first time in the city?"

"Yep!" Katara chirped. "Sokka says it's this terrible, evil place, filled with wrongdoers. But, then again, he exaggerates everything."

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly filled with wrongdoers, but you're gonna want to watch out and be careful, otherwise you'll find yourself regretting it."

Katara nodded. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"Yeah, and speaking of which, here we are now—this'd be the outskirts."

Katara looked outside and gasped. There were so many cars around her—more than she'd ever seen in her life. And there was a whole line of cars before them, with red and white lights turning on and off, and the occasional beeping or honking punctuating the still air. The cars stretched out to a dark spot on the horizon—the city itself. The houses on the sides of the road began to be more clustered together, sleeker, more modern-looking, as the trees and greenery began to become sparser.

"Looks like there's a lot of traffic," said the taxi driver.

Katara was puzzled. "Is that a bad thing?"

The taxi driver looked back at her, as if to see whether or not she was being serious. Eventually realizing that she wasn't joking, he nodded and said, "Yeah. It'll take us much longer to get to the train station."

"Oh, no!" Katara said. "About how much longer, do you know?"

"Judging by the looks of it…" began the taxi driver, squinting out into the distance. "Maybe… an hour or so? The traffic's pretty darn heavy."

"An hour! But our train leaves in thirty minutes!"

"Hey, you never know—the traffic could lighten up unexpectedly."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But don't count on it."

Katara sighed and propped up her head with her hands, her elbows on her thighs. This wasn't looking good, and it didn't help that Sokka kept snoring like some sort of beast. Five minutes passed, then ten. They'd hardly budged an inch; Katara put her face in her hands, then kicked Sokka as he let out a monstrous snore.

"Would you cut that out!" she said.

Sokka sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes. "Huh? We there yet?"

Katara shook her head. "No; it's going to take us another hour or so. We're stuck in 'traffic'."

Sokka's jaw dropped. "No way! Traffic!"

Katara nodded. "Yep… and you have a pool of spit on your shoulder, by the way."

Sokka shrieked. "What the heck! How'd that get there?" He tried furiously to brush it off, only to have it spill over onto his legs. Katara rolled her eyes and handed him her handkerchief, which he promptly used to rub frantically at the damp spots. Five minutes of scrubbing passed, and, at most, they'd moved half an inch. Katara buried her face in her hands. How in the world were they going to get there on time now? They only had fifteen minutes at most to get to the train station, and this traffic showed no signs of disappearing. They were going to be late to the preliminaries! They'd look terrible then—irresponsible, even. And Gran-Gran had looked so proud… so hopeful…

"Oi, looks like the traffic's letting up a bit," said the taxi driver. Katara jerked her head up, looking outside. Sure enough, they were moving again—slowly, that was true, but surely. Gradually, the speed of the car and those around them began to pick up. Katara cheered, then high-fived Sokka, casually wiping her hand on his sleeve once she remembered the damp patch on his shoulder and his patch.

"We're going to make it!" she said, glancing at the clock and at the scenery passing by them outside. "I can't believe it—we're going to make it!" The city loomed closer and closer as the taxi approached it; the tall, central spire of the train station was visible and getting closer, filling Katara with a fierce sense of joy. As the taxi stopped at the traffic light, Katara admired the building. It was set a little apart from the rest of the buildings, and it looked a little older. Vines were growing over its brick surface; as the taxi swerved into the drop-off center, the giant clock face on the spire struck eleven.

"Come on, Sokka!" Katara shouted, scrambling out of the taxi. "The train leaves at eleven o' five! If we hurry up, we can still make it!" She rushed over to the trunk and fumbled with it for a moment, until the taxi driver pressed the release button; the door of the trunk almost smacked her in the chin, but she got out of the way just in time. She unceremoniously tossed out their luggage, slung the bag over her shoulder, and dragged the suitcase. "Hurry up, Sokka! You're too slow!"

"All right, all right!" Sokka said, tumbling out of the taxi door. He hurriedly gathered up his things, then stopped.

"Katara!" he called out. "You forgot to pay the taxi driver!"

"Omigosh!" Katara said, then dashed back. "Watch my stuff, Sokka!" She pulled her wallet out of her bag, then rummaged around and handed the taxi driver a few bills. "Keep the change! Thanks for taking us!"

She waved and ran back to Sokka, hastily shoving her wallet back into her pocket. She pulled him toward the entrance. "Come on, let's go, let's go!"

They ran through the crowd, weaving their way in and out of the commuters, knocking some of them aside. Katara apologized hastily, then continued shoving with Sokka through the crowd. The crowd was thick, filled with people trying to get to work, trying to get to school—trying to get someplace.

"Gate 41…" Katara said under her breath. They passed by the sign for gate 40. "Gate 41, come on, gate 41… here we are! We made it! We—"

They swung around to the front of the crowd, the sign saying in bold letters 'Gate 41' dangling above their heads. They were both grinning, but that grin dropped from their faces, like expensive china plates shattering on the ground in an earthquake. For what they saw was the retreating figure of the train, chugging along the tracks, belching dark smoke like a black good-bye. Katara sank to her knees dejectedly, staring at a nonexistent point on the ground.

"We missed it…" she mumbled, tears forming in her eyes. "After all that—after we got our hopes up—we missed it…"

"Hey, come on, it's okay," Sokka said sympathetically, patting her on the back. "I mean, we can always get a couple of tickets for the next train, right? The next train leaves in, let's see…" Sokka paused and looked up at the billboard with all the arrival and departure times. "…five minutes. We'll just go and get two tickets, then run back. Nothin' to it."

Sokka reached out his hand and pulled Katara up as she smiled gently, wiping off her eyes. "Sounds good to me; I shouldn't have overreacted like that… Where do we get the tickets?"

"Well, you could just give me the wallet, and I'll go get the tickets. You can wait here."

"Sure thing," Katara replied. She reached into her pocket for her wallet, then froze. Sokka looked at her quizzically.

"What's up?"

"No!" Katara said, patting her pockets all over. "Oh, Sokka! I think I dropped my wallet somewhere!"

Sokka's jaw dropped, his sympathetic composure shattered. "You what!"

"I really think I did!"

"Oh, jeez… Did you have any identification in there? Anything important?"

"No, thank goodness, but I had all our money in there!"

"What! Katara, you're never supposed to put all your money in one place! Especially when you're traveling!"

"I know, Sokka! I'm sorry! Now help me find it!"

"Where did you lose it, do you know?"

"I think it might've dropped out of my pocket after we paid the taxi driver… Let's go check outside; it'll probably be there."

Sokka nodded, and they dashed outside, the wheels on their suitcases making clack-clack sounds on the cold metal of the floor. They burst out into the open air, and, breathing heavily, glanced about on the concrete floor.

"What color is it?" Sokka said.

"Blue," replied Katara. Their eyes darted over the ground, searching fervidly for a single speck of blue, something that resembled a wallet. Sokka jumped when he saw something small and blue, but upon closer inspection, it turned out just to be a candy wrapper.

Ten minutes later, and no better off than when they had started, Katara sat on the curb and sighed; Sokka joined her.

"Someone probably took it by now," Katara said, face propped up on one hand, her other hand tracing a crack in the ground. Sokka frowned.

"Hate to say it, but you're probably right."

Katara blew a hair out of her face. "I can't believe it. We get caught in traffic, but manage to make it here—but then we miss the train. If we'd only gotten here a minute earlier!" She sighed again.

"So what're we going to do now? We don't have any money. We don't even have enough to make a call back to Gran-Gran. It was more than two hours' drive here—we can't exactly walk back home."

"I know, I know," Katara said, sighing again. "Maybe we could ask to borrow a few quarters from someone. That'd be enough to make a call, right? Or we could even walk—the underground was just to take us to the center of the city, right? So it shouldn't be too far, I think."

"Yeah, wander off into the center of the city and get lost? Sounds great to me." Sokka let out a hmph, tapping his fingers on the sidewalk. "And I am not going to go around and ask for money like some beggar. We're worth more than that—we'll find a way. Won't we, Katara. Katara?"

"Excuse me, kind sir, but do you think you could spare some change?" Sokka's jaw dropped. There was Katara, looking fresh and rejuvenated as she always did when she was inspired by some crazy idea, talking with some completely random stranger, asking him for some change. Some change! For what! They were already late!

"Heh, why?" said the stranger, smirking at Katara. His hair was a little too long and somewhat shaggy, but he had a strong, handsome face. A lit cigarette hung out of one corner of his mouth.

"Figures," Sokka said to himself. "Out of all the people milling about here, she just has to go pick the one that looks the most badass. Why couldn't she just go ask some harmless old lady?"

"I just missed my train and lost my wallet, and all my money was in it. My brother and I need to get to the city center for the Great Tea Cup preliminaries by eleven thirty, and we were going to just buy two more tickets and try to make it in time," Katara said without hesitation. Sokka rolled his eyes. Who was going to believe it? Well, it was the truth, but all these beggars had similar sob-stories, and most of them were just lies.

"Next train's not coming in until eleven twenty," the stranger said, raising an eyebrow, "as the eleven-ten train's probably just left. You'll never make it in time."

Katara's shining smile dropped. "Oh… well, okay, I guess… thanks for your help anyway," she said, then turned to walk toward Sokka. She took a few steps, then felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking back, she saw that it was the stranger, smiling.

"Hold up, who said I was done? Luckily for you, I'm going in the same direction. Need a lift?"

Katara's eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands before her. "Omigosh, would you?" The stranger nodded. Katara threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. "Thank you so, so much! Hold on, lemme call my brother." She turned to Sokka, who was sitting on the curb, being harassed by a couple of grimy beggars. He looked as if he were about to go hysterical. "Sokka! Sokka, come here! And bring your stuff!"

He didn't need any other encouragement. He quickly gathered his stuff, then ran over to her. "What?"

"This kind person has offered to give us a lift to the center!" Behind her, the stranger waved at Sokka—more of a salute than a wave.

Sokka squinted at him, taking in his tousled hair, his cigarette, and his ripped jeans. He narrowed his eyes, inspecting him more, then said, "I'm watching you," indicating with his fingers the path between his eyes and the stranger's. The stranger merely raised an eyebrow, amused.

"C'mon, Sokka!" Katara said, laughing, pulling him along. "Let's go!"

The two of them followed the stranger to his car, and got into the backseat, holding their stuff.

"Buckle up," he said, strapping on his own seat belt. The two followed suit. The stranger sped off through the streets, twisting and turning his way through the tortuous streets; he seemed to whiz through the city on its side streets, as if he knew every single detail of the city. Encountering virtually no stop lights, nor any traffic, they soon arrived at the center, a long, rectangular building with a glass dome at the top of the middle section. The stranger pulled up at the drop-off, and Katara and Sokka scrambled out of the car, dragging their stuff behind them. Sokka dashed toward the entrance.

"Hurry up, Katara!"

"Hold on!" Katara called back, then leaned over to the stranger's rolled-down window. "Thank you so much! You don't know how much it means to me; I really, truly appreciate it! And, well, I guess I should give some thanks on behalf of my brother, too—thanks again, err—"

"Name's Jet," he said, smiling. "I'll be seeing you soon."

With that, he sped off, leaving Katara confused about his last words. Seeing her soon…? But she had no time to contemplate the meaning of his words; Sokka was calling for her to hurry up. She ran over to him, and they entered the building, running throughout he main hall as Katara rummaged through her bag for their passes. Finally, they burst upon the gigantic, open room, and Katara gasped—there had to be at least a hundred—maybe two hundred—people here, and at that moment, all of their eyes were fixed on her and Sokka. A thin old man came up to them, holding a clipboard.

"Names?" he said.

"Katara and Sokka," Katara said quickly. The old man glanced down his list.

"Numbers twenty-five and twenty-six?" he asked. Katara checked their passes, and nodded.

"That's right," she said.

"Well, Katara and Sokka," the old man said, looking up at them, "you're late."

"I can explain—there was traffic, and then—"

"No excuses," interrupted the old man. "We do not tolerate lateness; all contestants must be punctual and on-time."

"I'm really, really sorry," Katara said quickly, "and I—"

"You're both disqualified."

Author's Notes: Would'ya look at that, a cliffhanger:) Anyway, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated; please keep your reviews diplomatic (ie: try not to swear excessively; make sure to explain what you liked and disliked instead of just saying 'it's good' or 'it's bad'; avoid pointless flames, etc.). If constructively criticizing, I'd especially like to know about my characterization, and my pacing, though comments about anything else are always welcome, too. Thanks! The next chapter should be up soon. :)