disclaimer: I own nothing, 'specially 'you had me at hello' by a day to remember :) I highly recomend that you go listen to it, after, before, or even during reading this.


kaleidescope

i.

The first time he sees her, she is an unintentional kind of beautiful, with hair strung up messy and lipstick smeared off, and Sokka thinks that he might fall in love with her.

She would make a good—something, he thinks. Maybe, for the night. Not like that—he desperately ignores the part of him that points out, yes, you know, she wouldbe a pretty good fu-, and cuts it off—but she's here, at Aang and Katara's sort-of party, too, and looks just as bored as he does.

And maybe once upon a time he would have traversed over to flirt with Suki, instead, but their relationship is dying and does he love her anymore, anyway?

Sometimes, Sokka wonders.

He wanders over to her, guided by the murmur of voices and a wistful-drawn lure to this strange, slender woman; this raven feathered girl-child. "Is your father an alien? 'Cause you are out of this world." It slips out almost unbidden, uncalled for, and she snorts.

"That's all ya got? Moron. As if it works on any girl, let alone me," she says arrogantly, sloshing Coke down her throat.

He starts, before the ingination sets in. "Actually, it is. And is has, thank you very much. I'm a lady expert. Anything you wanna know, I'll tell you. Anything."

"Really, then." She leaned forward, smirking. "What, in actuality, does that time of month refer to, hm?"

Sokka turns scarlet. "Well, uh, that is to say, I—"

"—don't know," she finishes for him, smirking, before sipping from her soda and introducing casually, "I'm Toph Bei Fong. So, who're you? Aang's bed buddy's brother?"

He sputters. "What?! I'll kill him—"

Toph frowns. "Hey, watch it. I like the recount."

"You—you—you—" Sokka glares at Aang viciously. "That little—"

A snicker on Toph's part interrupts his rant. "Moron. As if Katara's anything but one big prude."

"Oh." Sokka suddenly feels very foolish indeed. "In that case, then, yes, I'm Katara's sister. Sokka's the name, ladies the game." He shoots his trademark grin, and she rolls her eyes.

"Ha. As if," she scoffs.

"But it's true," Sokka insists, as happiness—happiness, and maybe something more—bubbles up inside of him. Because he hasn't felt this way since—since Yue, and it's obvious that Toph is Special and obviously this isn't something that's gonna be Real and stay that way but hell, he has nothing better to do, now does he? "I am smooth," he asserts, as if to build up his own confidence.

"Oh, yeah, you're the smoothest," she rolls her eyes, and Sokka smiles triumphantly.

"Why, yes, thank you, I—" he pauses, frowning, and grumbles so only she can hear, "Yes, I am."

She shakes her head, crushes her soda can against the wall, slurps up the last drops of soda, and tosses it into the waste basket ten feet away. Sokka gapes, and attempted the same ritual, only to crush his fingers between the aluminum and the merciless wood, cut his tongue on the rim of the can, and miss the trash can by nine feet and ten inches.

Puffing out his chest and unwilling to show defeat, he walks over and tosses the soda into the trash, and wonders when girl's got this smartass tough—but she is not tough, dammit, he is, because in their relationship—

(And maybe, once, he might have wondered when it became their relationship, and when he, exactly, became involved with Her, because in his mind she is no less, but this is just another thing falling into place and, hey, maybe he'll never see her again, but why does it matter, just for now?

It's wierd, 'cause, God, she is Toph and since when in the five minutes he's known her did she start seeming so constant?

Sokka didn't quite expect the thought of never seeing her again hurt quite as much as it did.)

he will be the one to wear the pants.

There is a strangled shriek from another corner of the room, and Toph cocks her head as a long-haired man nearly throws himself across an unsuspecting Zuko. "Better go pull Mustache Man after another unsuspecting victim," she grunts, annoyed. "See ya later...Lady's expert," she smirks.

And maybe once he would've squawked something back, but all he can watch is the sway of her hips and the bat of an eyelash and the realization that God, he might not ever see her again because Katara has never mentioned her before and dammit why didn't he think to get her phone number?!

But he has Suki, and he can't, because girls like Toph Bei Fong do not go for guys like him.

Sokka watches her leave, and wishes she hadn't.

(He's pretty sure that his racing heart and flip-flopping stomach agree.)

(you gave me butterflies)


ii.

He sees her again.

It's really unexpected, and really strange, too, 'cause he hasn't been to this carnival since he was a kid and, wow, isn't it just flat-out wierd that Aunt Wu, whoever she is, decided to skip out and hire a replacement? Sokka thinks it's kinda like the first time he saw her, surprisingly and wonderful and beautifully accidental.

But this is different, or should be, because he sees her, and where there should be a chasm between them, the kind where you're trying to remember someone's name or what you talked about last time you saw them to start the hell up with a damn conversation

There is—comfort. No space. Just him and her and the question the lies unspoken between them.

"Hey," he greets, and tries to hide the relief flooding him, the relief that oh God he will get to see her again after all.

"Hey," Toph agrees, and rests lightly against the side of her fortune telling tent. "Wanna hear your fortune?" she asks mockingly, rolling her eyes at the collection of mystic objects lining her every direction.

"There is no such thing as fortune telling," Sokka persists, and Toph sticks her tongue out at him. "Except today. Maybe," he corrects. For her.

"Pay up." She wiggles her fingers in front of him, and Sokka digs into his pocket, groaning.

"Okay." He scrutinizes his findings. "I have some pocket lint, a Star Wars sticker, an old green lollipop—huh, coulda sworn it was orange last time I saw it—a Hot Wheels race car, and nineteen cents." Sokka glances up at her, and sucks in his breath because even though anyone else would just look kinda stupid with the airy, green scarf and the beads and the weird hat, this is Toph and she is beautiful.

She shrugs. "Eh. Wasn't expecting much better." Scooping up his payment, Toph flicks the lint away, slams the sticker onto the shabby table, takes a shuddering lick of the lollipop before tossing it right into the trash, and slides the Hot Wheels racecar—along with the nineteen cents—into her pocket. "So," she rubs her hands together, eyes gleaming, "Let's see what we can whip up, shall we?"

"Palm reading first," Toph announces, after a brief deliberation with an old copy of Aunt Wu's Complete Guide to Fortune Telling. Sokka offers her his hand, gladly, and Toph pours over each and every line—

(Sokka tries to pretend that he's only shivering from the cold)

—before raising her head. "I think," she begins, "That you have a long life. Or maybe it's just excruciatingly short and you're gonna get hit by a bus next Tuesday, I dunno. And, err, you're gonna have four kids. Or something." Toph pauses. "And then the only thing that seems really clear to me is that you're in love with someone. And it's true and real and forever. And all of that mushy crap. So...invite me to the wedding, will ya?"

Sokka is tempted to come right out and say, I don't think an invitation will be necessary, but doesn't. Because he's only met her—

(loved her)

—twice now, and so it can't possibly be Toph, can it?

It's probably Suki. Or something. Yeah. Suki. That sounds right.

(Or it would. If he still loves Suki anymore. Which he doesn't.)

And maybe he thinks that Toph gets kinda quiet after that, and doesn't wants to talk about love or anything. Because Sokka is too busy trying to figure out whether he—

(loves her)

—quite yet. But in the end, Toph just says, "Tea leaves," and shoves a cup of steaming hot tea into his hands.

Shifting the teacup from hand to hand tentatively, Sokka drains the cup, as he and Toph end up one way or another discussing the utter ridiculous of fortune telling and all of that other mumbo-jumbo, especially dumb concepts like Fate and Destiny and Meant to Be. (He notices that the incredibly cliche and common misconception of True Love is avoided by both of them with a desperate and determined fervor.)

"Here. Gimme the cup," she orders, and he hands it over. "Hm..." Toph muses, turning it every which way. "Well, there's that one pointy thing...and then a blobby shape in the corner...and that kinda looks like a limping donkey with bronchitis, so, good for you, you are in love after all!" She glances at him wryly, and peers at her own palm. "Hey! I am too!" she announces, with exagerated excitement. "Maybe we're in love with each other!" she gasps in mock surprise, and Sokka laughs.

But on the inside, he's dying, even when Toph hugs him roughly goodbye as the next customer comes trooping in—he supposes they've had far too long alone, anyway—and even when he's standing outside wistfully, wondering how the hell he got in this deep.

Because although Sokka tries to pretend that he isn't in love with her, he is, and will be tomorrow and the next day.

(And somewhere inside of him, he clings to the hope that, maybe, he might see her again. Even if he doesn't believe in Destiny or Fate or True Love.)

And somewhere, he wants to be the one to dazzle and surprise her, and make her gasp on the inside and ask herself if she's in love with him and then they'll walk home together, happy and satisified. But really, Sokka can't bring himself to believe in Dreams Come True, either.

(After all, it doesn't really matter that Toph makes him want to.)

(would it be okay
would it be okay
if i took your breath away)


iii.

Third time.

It's a fancy party, and he doesn't even know how he got invited in the first place. He's wearing his tux, wandering around and not missing Suki but wondering if he'll ever see her again, when she shows up.

Her green dress trails the floor, a glass of champagne lies in her hand, and Sokka can feel his heart speed up just looking at her.

One last try, one last chance. And maybe then he'll be able to let her go. But he—

(loves her)

—and can't stand the thought of not knowing.

It should not, cannot be enough to fall for her. Three meetings, and barely more then two conversations exchanged between them.

It doesn't matter, because Toph is right in front of him, drifting over from her stiff high-society conversation. But he loves her, now, he knows.

Is it you, or is it just me that feels this way? Sokka wonders, but doesn't say so. "I've missed you."

She grins roughly like she always does and just shrugs. "I didn't care," Toph says slowly, painstakingly, but keeps one eye opened and aimed at him, and Sokka can see the blush across her face and knows that she is lying.

But he just looks at her with makeup dripdripdripping across her face and glitter painted eyes and thinks she'd look a thousand times more beautiful if only nobody tried to so hard to make her look just like everyone else—because this is Toph and no one else she should be His but she isn't and dammit, he hates it.

So Sokka goes for the kill, the beauty of the end, and loves every second of it. A girl like her will never fall for him, and they both know it.

"I don't believe in true love, but maybe...maybe you've changed my mind, somehow or another," Sokka comments offhandedly, as if it were nothing, or just some lame pick-up line he heard last week, but it is something it is it is it is it is.

It hangs in the air, and, God, Sokka can't stand the fluff and the soap-opera pauses and drama, because he doesn't believe in true love, and whenever Suki's around he's just as skeptic as ever, but—but—

She makes him wanna believe, believe in true love and silver linings and happy endings so badly that it's painful and can't she see that he loves so much that it damn hurts.

Toph raises her eyebrow, but Sokka can feel her heart racing and for a moment all he wants is to sit here forever and just—watch. But this is Toph, and he is Sokka, and there is still more that needs to be said.

"Maybe," she smirks beautifully, breathtakingly, and his breath hitches, "Maybe you do. Maybe." Her voice drops, and her smile slides away. "Maybe you want to make me believe, too. Maybe I'm just too afraid to take that leap of faith and go ahead and do it. Who knows?"

"Who knows?" he responds. "Maybe I'm a total skeptic and maybe I have a girlfriend back at home and maybe I don't love her anymore, because I've fallen for you. Maybe we had it, and maybe we lost it." They both hold their breaths, and Sokka says softly, "And maybe it was right here, right in front of his, right with each other, all along."

There is a pause.

"You make me want to believe, Toph. Not Yue, not Ty Lee, not Suki, you." And as he speaks, he remembers her, her and her unintentional beauty, that first night that changed everything.

And Sokka knows that if he doesn't have this, he will not have her, and he will have nothing.

He keeps talking.

"And that doesn't mean anything to you right now, because I'm just some guy and you're, well, you, but you and I—Toph Bei Fong and Sokka Kuruk—have become something, intentionally or not. You and I turned into we, and we turned into us. So now were here, with a few mismatched words and nothing but each other to chase. Each other, and a happy ending, and who knows—maybe true love along the way, as well."

Sokka doesn't think he has ever said anything so sappy, so damn true, since—never. And although part of him wants to cringe away, from all the ooey-gooey mushy lovey-dovey soap opera fluff, he has said this before. He has said it, maybe, in a kindasortamaybe way, to Yue, and to Ty Lee, and to Suki, but never out loud.

He has thought it and wondered it and half-spoken it.

And now, for the first time, he means it.

Toph looks at him.

Sokka looks back.

"That was sappy," Toph says at last, and Sokka falls into the familiar rhythm of you-me-you-me-you-me-sarcasm like he was born for it.

"Yes," he agrees, "It was."

"Altogether unnecessary, too."

"Why?" Sokka is ripped open, with worry, with—with—rejection, because God he can't imagine a life without her, even if this is only the third time they've met and dammit now he's saying it all out loud and dammit he really is like a one-man soap opera, isn't he?

"You idiot," she chuckles, takes a step forward, and—

Kisses him.

And he wants it to last forever, with his hands running down the small of her back and her tiny fingers fisted in his hair, and there is nothing else but the contact between them. It is hot and passionate and true and forever and makes him want to wake up to her every morning and watch her face light up as he whispers, "I love you," but not for anyone else, just for him.

Toph pulls away first, but not in a we can't be together way or a I'm sorry I don't love you, too way. It's—

A breakaway, but the right kind. So he lets her shine, with cocoon-wrapped words unfurling their wings and rushing out into the bright sunlight, blinking and brand-new and amazing.

"Maye you haven't heard," she whispers, breathing hard and glowing and soft and all his, "but I fell first, and I fell harder, you moron. I fell for you first, I loved you first, not the other way around, so don't you go around telling your friends, 'oh, I'm so damn smart because I knew before her,' because you are a thick-skulled dumbass if I've ever seen one. I mean, seriously! How the hell did it take you so long to figure us out?" she demands, affectionately, happily, endearingly.

Sokka begins to object anyway, but she glares.

"No, Sokka," Toph orders. "I win. You lose."

Or maybe, they both do.

And, just this once, maybe this last time, Sokka looks at her again.

The first time he saw her, she was unintentional-beautiful, and right now he cannot imagine anything more gorgeous then her, just her, just Toph intended or otherwise.

"You know, Toph," he begins, smiling, "You are a pretty attractive girl yourself. Like a..." he wrinkles his nose. "Like a Men's Lady!"

She laughs. "Uh-huh. And where does that put you? Toph Bei Fong's Bitch? 'Cause really, you know who's gonna be in charge around here."

Sokka flips that frown right around, for her.

Toph smiles back, for him.

And Sokka knows.


(you had me at hello)


.FIN.


a/n: procrastination galore. don't worry, though, next chappie of I'd Lie should be up soon :) but on the bright side, you CAN read a one-sentence excerpt from the in the wraps section on my profile page, lolz.

Don't ask how they fell in love, btw. Sokka doesn't get it either XD And while I love the best-friends-something-more kinda fics, well, lets face it, there IS something amazing about true love. And skepticism XD But...Sokka was WAy too fluffy D: I mean, I think I musta gone loco somewhere in there, truly. He IS a one-man soap opera...

Please, forgive me for his OOCness :D Please with lots and lots of Tokka on top, lol. So, whaddya think?