Leave it to me to get distracted from my other fics already, gosh. Anyway, Doctor Who got hijacked by Avatar the Last Airbender, for today.

In any case, Imagine this takes place in season 2 somewhere after Bitter Work and somewhere before The Library ! Just for context or what-have-you. ANYWAY, first Avatar fic jump/attempt, let's see how chapter one works out. It is Toph-centric. So sue me, but really, don't. She's awesome and you know it.

Comments or whatnot are fantastic, but obviously not required!


Book II: Earth

Chapter 9.5: The Hard Part, Part 1

Aang rubbed his head with all the rue of a five year-old who was relieved of all his rights to happiness, which he mostly was, as far as his earthbending teacher was concerned anyway. The pair of brightly clothed twelve year-olds had been practicing all morning, and by all morning, that meant afternoon of course, since Toph Bei Fong didn't rise before the sun was mid-sky, if she could help it, and since no one in their party except Katara was about to argue with her, it wasn't very hard to avoid helping it altogether. After his first successful display of bending the earth, Aang was more than a little disappointed to find he still had a fair amount of trouble with everything about the technique and realization of the form, no matter that he bended once. He had to be able to do it multiple times, at a moment's notice, as if it was as natural as the air, though it was as opposite as could possibly be imagined.

"Let's go, twinkle toes!" Toph shouted, a firm foot planting itself back against the earth, sensing, waiting, expecting.

Waiting, the Airbender was beginning to think, was pointless since no matter how long he waited, the moment Aang moved, it was all over.

A solid trio of rock pillars crashed into the Avatar, sending him back under verdict and scrutiny of Toph, less than sympathetic to the trials of his learning curve.

"Okay, okay!" the Airbender half leapt and half airbended his way upright, matching Toph for every half degree of aggressiveness for once, brow wrinkled in a way that seemed to say: yes, I'm irritated, and what now?

Toph, for her part, and for the record, let the world—consisting of herself, twinkle toes, non-bender, wet blanket, sheddy, and chatty monkey—know that she was quite less than phased with a long, lazy yawn.

"Okay, what, Avatar?" she challenged him, as usual.

"Okay, enough!" he clarified, arms waving in a flailing fashion.

All he got in reply was the earth that moved beneath his feet enough to allow Toph to knock him over with a light tap to his arrow.

He watched her stalk off like The Thing that Wouldn't Let Well Enough Alone and sighed. It wasn't in his nature to be irritable, much less argumentative, and it certainly wasn't in his best interest to constantly tick off and disappoint his only chance at becoming a master earthbender.

But sometimes...

"Get a grip twinkle toes!" was his only warning before Aang went flying from one spot on the ground to another.

Sometimes Aang felt like it was nearly a fact of the universe: for the two of them to be at odds, and by at odds, he meant never backing down and not admitting one or the other might be wrong, because it was definitely the other one that needed to get their act together.

Or something.

Casual and comforting hands were on his shoulders, helping him up and he didn't need to look to his right to know it was Katara.

Momo's hands were furry, Appa didn't have hands so much as paws, Sokka was busy bemoaning the lack of food in his fancy shoulder bag, and Toph was…Toph.

"Thanks Katara," he said, beaming at her in his usual way, not unaware of the lightness of his heart around the waterbender, though perhaps a bit in question of exactly what it meant still. He was only twelve after all. Sometimes Katara reminded Aang of his mother, and what that really meant was what he imagined his mother might have been like, if he had not been raised his whole life by monks. She was kind, patient, firm but steady, and sometimes, he admitted, a spoilsport. But that was hardly the largest shortcoming of the group of traveling heroes, so Aang often overlooked that trait in her entirely. She was, very close to perfect, or as perfect as Aang had ever seen in a person anyway. Other things were perfect in the world of course.

Take egg custard for example.

Egg custard was definitely the picture in the dictionary next to 'perfect'.

And there was air ball.

Oh and the color yellow, not that he was biased or anything.

But especially egg custard.

At that reaffirmation, Aang's stomach voiced agreement with Sokka who had been going on, and on, and on, and veritably more on about lack of food throughout all his musings, picking up on: "…and if we don't get something to eat soon, Toph might disappear! I mean, look at—ow, ow, ow!"

Sokka found himself half submerged and similarly stuck in the earth long enough to be kicked in the head by the earthbender and then dragged out of it with equal lack of ceremony.

"What was that, snoozles?" she dared him. Aang was stuck between snickering and frowning. Half of him was amused, as per usual with the antics, and half of him was…upset?

He wasn't sure.

Brushing it off as residual irritability, Aang dusted off his clothes, shooting another smile up at Katara as they all regrouped, a casual huddle that they often resorted to when deciding what to do or where to go next, or more likely, both.

"There's some smoke up ahead so we can probably get some supplies there," Sokka pointed at the wispy trails in the air and they all nodded before he added somewhat glumly, "But the money thing could be a problem." Here, he proceeded to empty the contents of their money sack.

That was to say, nothing.

"How did this happen?" Katara eyed all of them suspiciously.

"Actually," Sokka held up a hand and Katara made her scowl a little fiercer. Toph didn't bother to look at him of course, but the way her lips thinned and frowned gave away enough of her position on the situation while Aang offered Sokka a half-smile of: yeah, hope you have an arm sling with you or something after they're done with you.

That was until Sokka finished with, "I have no idea!"

The other three fell flat on their backs, eyes to the sky for strength.

"So what do we do now?" Toph asked, idly picking at the space between her toes.

"We still go to the village," Katara said immediately, as if it was obvious.

"Maybe someone will let us do an odd job for them or something," Aang suggested.

"Maybe," Sokka chimed in, less enthusiastic but motivated by the promise of vittles.

They lay in silence for a while, Momo curling up at Aang's side and Appa doing nothing in particular, since moving around was quite a bit more work for an animal of his size, the gang all but napping.

Then Aang felt the earth rumble and shift beside him and, naturally, turned to see what it was.

"'Sup?" came the familiar and dryly amused voice, accompanied at this range by wide, sightless eyes and an inescapable smirk.

Aang did his part to let go a yelp of surprise and scramble back a foot or so.

"Don't do that!" he said automatically and his stomach dropped as he saw her smirk turn into something much less companionable.

"Get used to it, twinkle toes. Expect the unexpected. Be ready, that's what this is all for, isn't it?" she got to her feet, advancing on him with certainty and criticism. "Isn't it?"

"Toph, that's enough," Katara intervened and Toph might have bitten back but Sokka was suddenly at her shoulder, laying a hand on it and squeezing just slightly, enough to convey that she had to drop it, for now. "He can't learn everything in a few days, Toph. You have to be reasonable, I mean, he's trying as hard as he can, aren't you Aang?" Katara did her best to play peacemaker, the one useful thought that Toph couldn't be swayed not occurring to her for even a moment.

"Of course I am," Aang replied, miffed despite himself. "It's not easy—"

"It isn't? Oh well, gee, gosh, why didn't you just say so in the first place?" Toph didn't back down, as it was, her signature combination of cheery and sarcastic bouncing off the canyon walls. "That changes everything," she continued, walking around in circles. "Well, since it's not easy, I guess we can just pack up and take a break for a few days," she said.

"Really?" Katara arched a brow, enough herself to believe Toph was being serious.

Sokka had the foresight to plug his ears.

Aang had the foresight to plant his feet a bit more firmly.

"Yeah, no," was the basic answer from the blind girl, who waved a dismissive and flippant hand at the lot of them, heading toward the opening to the woods that would lead them all to the village.

Katara glared, shaking her head. "Hasn't she heard of compromise?" she muttered to herself, folding her arms across her chest as she followed, if grudgingly, with Sokka and Aang on her heels. They walked again in silence, sounds of the woods the only sounds that echoed, Appa and Momo having stayed behind at the camp. A sideways glance told Katara enough, seeing Aang's clenched hands and downcast eyes. It didn't take much to get to him in the first place, much less a verbal lashing from sarcasm's reigning champion—aside from her brother, that is. A reflexive motion, Katara's hand found Aang's and held onto it, gratified when he held hers too. It didn't escape her, however, that his eyes, however downcast, were in constant change between his feet and his earthbending teacher.

At that, the waterbender wondered a little, but only a little.

Sokka didn't wonder about any of that, too busy wondering at the fork in the path they came to shortly.

"What now? We have no signs and the village isn't on our map. Which way?" Sokka posed the questions, rubbing his chin in melodramatic consideration.

"We can go both ways you know," Toph said with about as much feeling as a rock, fitting really.

"No we can't," argued Sokka the Brave and not Usually Wise, before he got earthbended into a tree branch.

"Can, by splitting up," Toph said.

"Oh," Sokka said.

"No!" Katara said.

"Why not?" Aang said.

"Because!" They all said, though for different reasons.

"It's faster, more efficient," Toph submitted.

"It's not a good idea. We stick together," Katara frowned.

"I think—" Sokka began and didn't finish because Toph pushed him out of the way, onto the ground to get by him and grab Aang by his collar, all but dragging him behind her.

"Come on twinkle toes, break time's over. Busy, got things to do, save the world, see you two later!" Toph rattled on in a business like, and more Toph like manner than anything else, and Aang could only gesture helplessly with his hands as if to tell the pair left behind to do whatever they wanted, that he obviously didn't get a choice in the matter.

Katara shot the snickering Sokka a look not unlike a look a mother would give an unruly child.

"What?" he asked, feigning ignorance, and gesturing for her to follow as he started down the other direction in the path.

"Never mind," she muttered to herself, casting a worried stare down the path the earth and airbender had taken before following her brother with only a few major misgivings.

-------

Toph bit her lower lip in concentration, releasing the unhappy Aang from her unshakable grip without so much as a nod of recognition that he was there at all. She just didn't get the silly airbender. What, exactly, was so hard about any of this? He had the form, the aptitude, the dedication in theory, everything but the one thing he had attained the first time he bent earth, but not even a glimmer of that same resolve had reemerged yet. It was almost like he didn't want to earthbend. Itching a spot behind her ear thoughtfully, Toph turned toward where she could feel and therefore visualize that Aang stood, if somewhat crestfallen in his posture.

"I think you're afraid," she said at last and she could feel his anger.

"So what if I am?" he shot back.

"It has to stop here," she said, stepping forward and poking him hard in the chest. "Listen to me, twinkle toes, Aang, earthbending isn't just about being unmovable or steady, it's about letting go of fear, about charging in and pulling through. That's something you were born to do, so what's stopping you?" she interrogated him without so much as a smile but her expression, Aang decided, was not mean so much as it was urgent.

"I, I don't know," he said, anger seeping away.

"I think you do," she parried.

"If you know so much," Aang bristled. "Then why don't you tell me, Sifu Toph?" he had been using the formal title as respect but Toph, good at not only hearing but also listening, sensed the difference here. Here was a sneer, a prod, a dare, a challenge, a test. Here was the small part of Aang that fought back without reserve.

She would later regret egging him on, though she didn't know it, having brought him herself to the place where he could yell at her freely, blame her, accuse her, shut her out. But for now, for now it was not even a shimmer of a thought yet and she focused on bringing out his offense.

"You're all defense," she critiqued. "You not only hold back, but you give in, and that's weak, Aang, weak. You can't afford it," she said and added, "I'm not saying to be cold either. Sokka told me about the Earth Kingdom escort." At this, Aang blinked in surprise, both at the fact that she knew and the fact that Sokka had been the one to tell her. They did talk quite a bit, those two, Aang noted, though much of it was Toph making fun of or pulling on Sokka. Still, they did seem to get along well.

Aang closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I know, I know," he said and then, "But I can't just let go either. You know what I can do."

A soft silence passed.

"I know," she admitted. "But you can do it. You wouldn't be you if you couldn't," she said, all insistence, blind pretty eyes and a stubborn curve of lips, bangs in her face, hands at her sides.

"How do you know?" Aang demanded, moving toward her for once, not that she backed away.

"You're—" she started.

"The Avatar," Aang finished, less than pleased. Before he could say or do anything else, he felt Toph's small hand reach by his ear to lay flat against the side of his head, strangely soft in this motion.

"Don't put words in my mouth," she warned and then, "You're Aang. That's how I know."

Though she'd be dead twice over before admitting it out loud, especially to him, Toph felt a connection with the light stepping boy with an arrow on his head. She had since her first meeting with him, one of the reasons she'd done her best to run away, and she felt it more distinctly in his direct presence these days, confused at times and even angry at it, but mostly, grateful. For the first time in her life, Aang, not the Avatar but Aang gave her a place to call a real home, where people or animals took her for who she was and that was good enough, even if she wasn't exactly great. Briefly she brushed an index finger against his cheek, a feign at a light-hearted and joking move, but a little softer than that as she withdrew her hand.

"I know," she repeated and Aang sighed, looking down at their feet facing each other.

They stood that way, neither looking at the other, not that it was that big a surprise for Toph of course, but no words were spoken, no movements made, until a brush of the woods around them alerted them both to distraction from each other, just what they needed, really.

"You hear something?" Aang asked, and credit due, he didn't ask her if she 'saw' something, which was more than she could say for their little gang most of the time. Toph did her best not to hold it against them, but sometimes it grew a little tiresome.

"A lot of things, I think there might be someone following us," she said slowly, not saying her theory until she was sure, as she and Aang backed up to each other, each facing out at the dense woodland. "See anyone?"

"No one," Aang said, brow furrowed.

Then he stepped a little away from Toph only to trip on what felt like a tree root.

And it might have been a tree root.

Except tree roots didn't have thick vine-like rope that coiled around one's ankles and entire body for that matter and swept them up into a tight, net of a trap, suspended from one of the tallest trees Aang had ever seen and Toph had ever felt in her entire life.

A hunter's trap? Maybe. Trouble?

Well, Toph hadn't been with the group that long but it definitely seemed to be a familiar addition to their wanderings. Trouble.

"What now?" she asked.

"I don't know," Aang said and added, "I can't even reach to undo the vines and if I try to airbend us out by shaking us loose, that could be—"

"Don't you dare!" was the answer.

"Yeah," Aang nodded. "Thought that'd be what you'd say."

"Well, I take it that wasn't a tree root," Toph mumbled from her rather uncomfortable side of the trap.

"Nope," was the plain reply.

"Yep," Toph pushed herself back to get her face off of the vines and Aang tried to rearrange himself as well, only to get them further uncomfortable and close in proximity.

"Get your feet out of my face twinkle toes!"

"Stop pushing me against the top of the net!"

"I can't see anything up here, give me a break!" At this, Aang stopped his struggling and peered down at the girl as best he could. Her voice, for once, was a little unsure, almost…dare he even think it: scared?

"…are you okay?" he asked finally.

"Yes."

There was some unexpected shuffling beneath him and Aang fell to land beside Toph in their tiny airborne trap of weeds.

"This is pathetic," she said.

"Yeah," Aang agreed, for once, eyes going to the side to stare down at the very still earthbender, noting the tight grip of her hands on the vines to her sides, as if she was preparing for it to drop her at any second, and how could she tell if it was or wasn't? She couldn't. Toph was, by aesthetic purposes rule, pale, fair-skinned if one was being complimentary, but the vice attachment her hands had on the net seemed to bring out the angles of the tiny bones in her fingers too and it was a little upsetting, to say the least. If he tried to reassure her, she might get angry. If he said nothing, well, that just wasn't an option, Aang being Aang.

But what to say?

A while passed, how long neither of them really knew, but somehow, at some point, Toph's grip on the net lessened.

It had, she would claim to any onlookers—not that there were any—nothing at all to do with the fact that in that uncounted time period, a warm, relaxed hand with a blue arrow tattoo trailing down on it laid itself across hers. Absolutely nothing to do with it.

So she would claim.

Later.

For the meanwhile, they sat, trapped, with each other, wondering when and how they might get out of this, each figuring that eventually someone had to come collect their 'prey' from their trap, in theory.

It didn't occur to either of them that the person who set the trap might be anyone particularly dangerous.


It's basically a lost episode [part 2 is next obviously, it's not done --

Comments are yay and squee!

-Haku