This story was inspired and dedicated to MoonClaimed, who knows what Katara's going through here. I don't usually do alternate universe so explicitly like this, but it works. I hope.

I don't own Avatar. I'll live.

That Time Of Year

Katara was never one for coffee. She preferred the chi enhancing tea, a drink that recalled fond memories. She needed it now. She needed the energy The night's third cup was sitting, half empty and entirely cold, on her desk beside a glowing computer screen.

She took a sip and rubbed her eyes. The words in front of her were starting to blur. It was a surreal sensation; she could read the same sentence five times and not be able to understand it at all. She could tell what the words were, but they didn't have meaning to her anymore.

She looked at the clock. The numbers were a bloody red, menacing, taunting her. Katara groaned.

"2:30 already?" she said aloud. "But there's still so much!"

She felt like crying, like sitting her head on the keypad and letting it soak up her frustrated tears. All she could think of was everything she would rather be doing. Going to concerts in the city, seeing Broadway musicals, visiting museums, shopping in Times Square, heading over to Central Park for a carriage ride with Aang.

But there was no time to think about other things. She used whatever will power she had left and directed her attention to the computer screen, the lonely glimmer in the room. She typed a word or two, re-read them, and erased them, slamming a frustrated middle finger on the delete key repeatedly.

Another look at the clock. Another groan.

Her cell phone rang, a repeating four note descending pattern. It was the idée fixe for the only person who would ever call her so late.

"Hey, Aang," she yawned.

"Hi, Katara," came the boyish voice from the other end. She almost couldn't recognize her own name through the fatigue. She took another sip of cold chi enhancing tea.

"What's up?" she grumbled.

"You're not going to come over tonight?" he asked hopefully.

Katara sighed. "No, sorry. I have to work here again."

"Oh," said Aang. Disappointment dominated his voice. "You must be so tired."

Katara could only yawn in response.

"You've been at this for days. What are you working so hard on?"

Katara flipped through the papers that were strewn about her bed. "Well, I just finished an arrangement of a Duke Ellington tune, and now I'm writing a paper on musical forms, terms, patterns and stuff. It's really boring."

"I'm sorry," said Aang.

"But it's this stupid Egypt class that's the worst," she continued. "I have four days to write two research papers, as well as do all the research."

"Four days?" said Aang in disbelief. "What do you know about Egyptian history?"

"Absolutely nothing," groaned Katara.

"Wait, I thought Samtana was a music student. What's with the history class?"

"He's a double major now."

Aang groaned. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Can't he take music history classes and call it even?"

"Oh, I took that test yesterday," mumbled Katara. "Pure memorization. It was horrible."

"Why do you have to do all this work for him, anyway?" asked Aang.

"He said he needs the time to write fan fiction."

"Why don't you just tell him to do it himself?"

"He said he'd stop writing Kataang if I said no."

"What a jerk!" cursed Aang. "Just do a quick job so we can go for a carriage ride in Central Park tomorrow."

Katara felt like crying again. "I know! I want to! But Samtana said that if he gets anything less than a B on any of these finals he's going to start writing Jetara and Aangzula."

"Ew," said Aang.

"But if I get A's he'll write a less violent version of 'Beautiful' and give us more romantic moments together."

"That sounds good, I guess," said Aang. "I don't remember 'Beautiful.' Is that the one where your face gets…"

"Yeah, that's the one." Katara interrupted. She managed a sarcastic chuckle. "I was grimacing as I read it, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember now," said Aang. "So when do you think you'll be done with all this?" asked Aang.

"Soon, I hope," said Katara. "As soon as I get these Egypt papers done."

"When do you think that will be?"

"I don't know," sighed Katara, rubbing her eyes. "Three days, maybe four."

"Well, okay," said Aang dejectedly. "I'll see you then.I'm about to watch the Sixth Sense."

"Right now?" Katara eyes floated towards the clock. A giant, red, menacing 2:51.

Aang yawned. "I guess you're right. I'll watch tomorrow. I really like the director of that movie. What's his name?"

"I know who you're talking about, but I can't pronounce it," said Katara. "Can you wait for me to finish before you watch it? I'd like to see it with you if I could."

"Alright," said Aang. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Bye."

"Goodnight."

Katara put the phone down and stared back at the screen, the uninviting words in front of her existing nonchalantly and threateningly at the same time. At least she had talked; at least she was able to release some of the stress. She took another sip of cold chi enhancing tea, stopped thinking, and began to type.

-------------------------------------------

Wow. So much for keeping my identity a secret. If you know me you'll definitely be able to guess who I am by now (or you could follow the link on my profile page to my blog where I don't hide my real name at all).

Just a quick note: idée fixe is a musical term for a recurring theme that refers to a specific character. Azula's is very distinctive (a high-pitched chord that sounds a little like perplexion), as is the Fire Nation (the one with the big, menacing trombones). Katara's ring tone is the theme that plays just before they kiss, as well as at the end of quite a few episodes.

Sorry, Aangzula and Jetara fans. I'm not a good enough writer to pull something that crazy off. I don't think I'm alone here.

Luckily I don't have a girl who's been studying so hard I can't see her.

Wait, how is that lucky?!

-samtana