Explanation of the crack in this story at the bottom.

This is my first Modernverse/AU, so please tell me how I did, honestly. It's mostly a warm-up for a Modernverse/AU drabble series I'm going to start eventually (or so I keep telling myself)

Disclaimer – If I owned Avatar, SEASON THREE WOULD HAVE STARTED AND EVERYONE WOULDN'T HAVE AWS AND I WOULDN'T HAVE TO PUBLISH THIS RETARDED STORY TO GET BACK IN THE SWING OF THINGS!

ahem

Carry on.

Katara tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the curtain to open and the ballet recital to begin.

The sooner it starts, the sooner it's over, the sooner I can get back home she thought irritably to herself.

Before she could complain any more, there was a slight "Katara" from the side of the stage. She glanced over, scowling, until she saw who had said her name. She gave what she hoped was a happy smile, and waved back at Yue. Katara's face drooped when her and her perfect hair disappeared behind the curtain once again.

She knew coming meant a lot to her new friend, but she wished at least she could have someone to share the agony with. Suki was supposed to come, but at the last second she had a 'family emergency.' (Bull shit, Katara thought venomously, I'm Suki's family. And this is more of an emergency than any sick uncle or whatever.)

Finally, the lights began to dim, signaling the start of the show. Katara tossed her hair over her shoulder and sunk deeper into her seat.

Might as well get comfortable, she thought resignedly, I'm going to be here for a while.

An hour into the show, Katara shook herself out of tutu-induced stupor and looked at her program for the 20th time.

She scowled for the 20th time.

Figures Yue would be at veeeeeery end of show.

She had really tried to focus on the performance. For the first five minutes. The little kids were cute and all, but really. Were streamers and confetti even ballet?

Katara watched as another set of adorable (shudder) little kids tottered off the stage.

Finally! Yue should be on stage after this act! And then I can –

Her thoughts were cut short by a boy, looking about 16, walking onto the stage.

He was wearing tights.

Sure, Katara knew that there were boys her age in ballet. She also knew that those boys wore tights. But it hadn't actually occurred to her until then that boys her age wore tights in ballet.

Katara's hormones immediately staged a hostile takeover of her mind, and every little bit of brain power she had was devoted to examining his legs.

Well defined calves, nice thighs, and…her appraising stopped and her throat went dry as she noticed his…bulge. She gained control of herself.

Just keep your eyes on his face, Katara. No distractions, no distractions…

She looked at the boy's face.

Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. Her head spun. The fabric of the universe seemed to tear just a little bit.

Zuko?

The heavy-metal listening too, emo-looking, long tormentor of Katara, scarred-but-still-incredibly-hunky-and-heartthrob-of-their-school, epitome of manliness, WAS A BALLERINA????

Or maybe its ballerino, a part of Katara's mind that wasn't in complete shock thought vaguely.

Katara, finally realizing what she had done, blushed crimson.

Was I really just staring at his crotch? Oh my God, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

She quickly reminded herself of all the awful things that he had ever done to her, how he, on a regular basis, humiliated her, annoyed her, and insulted her.

Then of course, he started to dance.

The music stopped, Zuko took an elegant bow, and for the first time in five minutes, Katara remembered to breathe.

With a deep gasp that made everyone seated within 10 feet of her look in her direction, she detached her arms from her chair, and sent a ferocious glare at the retreating boy.

How dare he dance like that? She thought angrily. How dare he make me squeeze my armrests so hard that it hurt? How dare he look so damn sexy in those tights?

She gasped at the thought, making everyone look at her again.

Ewww…Zuko sexy? No way! Then her subconscious, which had recorded the entire performance for Her Viewing Pleasure, played a few short segments of Zuko doing some things that made her gasp aloud. Again. The people around her stopped looking curious and started looking irritated.

Okay, he's sexy. The admittance made her give a little sigh, which in turn made about half the people around her turn and shush her. The lights dimmed, and she tried to focus on Yue's performance. But thoughts of Zuko's newly sexified legs kept flashing through her mind.

And you can really see the legs in those tights…wait a minute…TIGHTS?

The tights were just part of ballet, right? He wouldn't wear them otherwise right? But why would he do ballet if he didn't like wearing the tights, right? RIGHT? Unless…

Oh my God, HE'S, GAY, ISN'T HE!!!!!

She let out a tiny scream, and everyone around her turned and whispered 'shut up!'

She smiled weakly and mouthed 'sorry' at everyone.

Yue finished her dance and curtsied, smiling brilliantly. Katara grinned and gave her a thumbs up, but was brooding on the inside.

Grr…curse Zuko for distracting me…I'll make him pay…

And suddenly, she knew how…

As Katara waited outside the dressing room, she was having trouble resisting rubbing her hands together and cackling with evil joy.

Well, she thought, why not?

So she clapped her hands together, and let out a truly evil 'mwahaha.'

She grinned in spite of herself, almost laughing at the faces of the people looking at her strangely as they walked by.

No wonder villains are always doing that in those superhero cartoons. That was awesome!

Finally, the object of her search walked out of the dressing room. Katara almost didn't recognize him: he was wearing a sweatshirt hood over his emo hair, and sweatpants over his – she gulped – legs.

She shook off the feeling and fell into stride a little way behind him. He cut across the parking lot behind the studio, and walked into a small park. Katara smiled, savoring the moment, before calling out to him.

"Great performance, Zuzu."

He jumped about a foot in the air and turned to her, blushing like a madman.

Katara stood a few feet in front of him, hands on hips, smirking so widely it was a surprise her mouth didn't fly right off her face.

Zuko looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Or possibly a man caught in adultery by the husband of the woman, who happens to be a pro wrestler.

"I didn't know you were a ballerina," she said loudly, smirking as he flinched when she emphasized ballerina. "I'm sure everyone at school would just love to find out." He still stared at her, unmoving. Now he looked like a man caught in adultery with the wife of a pro wrestler who also happens to have a vast collection of medieval torture devices.

"I…You…How…Where…" He seemed to get a little control of himself. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling his hood down a little, "you must have me confused with someone else."

And he turned and attempted to run away. But Katara had expected this. As soon as he turned, she flung herself at him in a flying tackle, and he collapsed, with her on top of him. He tried to flip over to push himself up and run away, but she pinned his arms and sat in his back.

I knew wrestling with Sokka all those years would help with something, she said to herself, and smirked wider. Or tried to, anyway – her smug expression was already too big for her cheeks, and it only made her look like the Grinch.

"So, how about you stop moving and I wont tell these people that you just stole my purse?" she whispered to the boy.

He growled, but stopped moving.

She looked up and the group of people who congregated around the two teens.

"Nothing to worry about," she said, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Just a bit of fun between me and my boyfriend here."

The teen made a gagging sound, but Katara elbowed him and he shut up. The people around them seemed to buy the excuse despite his antics, and they slowly dispersed.

When they were alone, Zuko turned his head and looked at her from the corner of his eye. He seemed to have regained a bit of his cockiness as a he adopted his usual 'better than thou' attitude.

"Having fun up there? You don't look like you want to move…"

Katara, finally fully realizing the compromising position she was in, blushed deeply, but held on.

"If I get up, you'll run away."

"True…" Zuko flexed his muscles a little, for no apparent reason. Katara blushed harder as she thought about him dancing again, his legs…

"Are you going to sit there all day, or are you going to tell me what you were going to tell me? Unless you just wanted an excuse to get on top of me…"

She coughed quickly to hide her naughty (AN: Lmao! Love that word!) daydreaming, then scowled.

I liked it better when he was stuttering like an idiot. Even though I'm on top of him, it seems like he's the one in control – oh God, that sounded wrong.

Shaking her stupid hormonal perverted mind out of the gutter, she smiled sweetly at him.

"If you insist." Katara took a deep breath. "First, unless you want your picture in tights all over the school tomorrow morning, you are going to write me an apology for every mean thing you ever said about me. Send it to my house along with…" she thought about it for a few seconds, "…with a box of chocolates."

Zuko began to protest, his usual scowl replacing the smirk that was on his face previously.

"No talking until I'm done," she snapped. She smiled in satisfaction, taking another deep breath. So that's what victory smells like.

"Now, if you don't want me to publish the picture of you and an article praising your amazing skills in the local paper, you will be my personal slave for a week. Carry my books, pay for movies, food, wash my gym clothes, etcetera. You think of anything filthy, uncomfortable, or in any way demeaning for you, and you'll have to do it." Katara smirked again. "I think that's fair. Don't you?"

"Of course I don't think it's fair! That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard in my life!" Zuko yelled, glaring up at her.

She tutted, smirking at him. "Now now," she said, shaking her head, "that's not how a good slave talks to his master."

He snarled.

"Oh, by the way," she added as an afterthought, "you're gay, aren't you?"

That's when Zuko snapped. With a roar of anger, he pulled his wrists from Katara's grasp, and, faster than she could see, rolled over so he was on top of them. She tried to wiggle away, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the ground on either side of her head. She looked up with huge eyes, almost too shocked to comprehend what had just happened.

"Now," he said, smirking, "would you like to take that last comment back? And maybe stop threatening to blackmail me?"

She swallowed dryly, but narrowed her eyes in a challenge. "Make me."

Zuko sighed with false regret, and then smiled evilly. "If you insist…" As he spoke, he studied her expression carefully, judging the suitability of the anti-blackmail blackmail.

"If you publish that article about me wearing tights, or put those pictures up, I will write an article about how you stared at my crotch the entire time I was on stage."

Katara gasped in horror – How did he know?­

"And not only that!" he declared smugly, smiling at her pale face, "but also an eyewitness account…" he paused for dramatic effect, "…of how you passionately made out with me behind a bush after the performance!"

He sat up, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

She sat up too, rubbing her wrists.

"You wouldn't dare," she snarled, and then a thought struck her. "Wait…I didn't make out withmmph!"

Zuko's lips slammed into Katara's, pushing her back down onto the ground. She moaned, and feeling his tongue touch her lips, let him inside. As he explored the dark reaches of her mouth, her hands traveled all over his body, cursing the stupid sweatshirt that kept her from feeling his strong arms and defined chest well. She settled for fisting through his hair, pulling his head down further. He stopped kissing her, and moved his mouth to her neck, biting, sucking, while his hands wandered all over her body, until…

"Katara?" a shocked voice whispered. Katara opened her eyes, slowly swimming up from her hormonal induced daze. She looked up at Zuko, who was looking at her with the same smug expression that he had before. As the look of horror, mortification, and revelation grew on her face, his smug look got bigger too.

The full implications of what she had just done finally hit her.

"OH MY GOD! EW!" she shrieked, wiping her hand over her mouth and trying to scoot back on her butt at the same time. Zuko's smirk dropped a notch, but he fixed his face again, smirking wider. Now he was the one that looked like the Grinch.

Katara continued scrambling back until her back hit the bush, her face burning as she looked up at Yue, who had an interesting combination of a knowing smile, a repulsed grimace, and a victorious smirk. When she saw Katara looking at her, she covered everything in a mask of pure innocence.

Zuko leaned back, crossing his arms triumphantly. "And that, dear Katara," gesturing toward Yue carelessly, "is my eyewitness." He smirked again (GOD, she was getting sick of that). "Check and mate."

"I…I can NOT BELIEVE YOU JUST DID THAT!" Katara yelled, feeling violated, and still trying to stand up and run away. Zuko just shrugged. "Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures." He snickered as she fell on her butt again.

"Anyway, dear Katara, I think I just won. No blackmail for you!" he said cheerfully, as if announcing that he had just won a free ice cream cone. He smiled wider. "By the way, that crotch thing was a lucky guess."

Katara let out a little squeak of shock in reply, but was still too absorbed in trying to get her legs under control again to say anything. Finally, she managed to clamber to her feet, and proceeded to sprint off in a random direction. She didn't really care where she was going, just as long as it was far away from that boy and his damn legs. With one last look of pure astonishment and fury, Katara left, with Yue following close behind, muffling her laughter. Zuko stood up slowly, shuffling away from the bush.

As the three went their ways from the scene of the crime, they were thinking three very different thoughts.

Hmm…not bad at all…

Ha! I so won that bet! Just wait until I tell Suki!

Well…at least he isn't gay…

THE END

Please don't hurt me! Explantion is down there.

This is a really old story that I've had half-finished since Christmas, when I went to see the Nutcracker. Also, I found out that a hardcore/head banger/metal head guy that was tormenting me for a long time was a ballerina/o, and in my friend's little sister's ballet company. So I had fun taking a video of him and blackmailing him into leaving me alone. Anyway, I found the story moldering on my flash drive, and decided to finish it. Hopefully that will explain why the characters are so bi-polar. Also, as I finished it, it sort of got a life of its own. And I am so Avatar deprived, the only fan fiction-writing cells that are still there are the crazy perverted-Zutara ones. Hence my first attempted snog scene. (I have never kissed anyone sob so I had to borrow ideas from other fan fictions).

Anyway, I hope that it didn't suck too much. And even if it did suck, that you still liked it a little.

R 'n R!

(Note on Zuko's Jealousy – I'm outlining the ending right now. Hopefully it will be over by the end of the summer)