Pro-tip: If you ever find yourself in front of my stud muffin Commander-soon-to-be-Admiral Zhao, don't tell him that Aang has suddenly resurfaced. And an even better pro-tip: bring a blanket to the Avatar-verse because prison is nipple-crippling cold. My nips could cut glass. No joke!
Yeah, that's right…my love bunny tossed me in the slammer the moment those words came out of my mouth. Could I blame him? Nah; he probably thought that I was deranged. And as I chilled in prison—no pun intended—I thought that I was deranged, too.
Here's the thing, the moment I said "the Avatar has returned" was the moment of truth. Zhao just sorta walked out of the room like I was a bumbling idiot and returned with two guards who hastily tackled my pale, boney ass to the ground before they drug me down to the brig.
And even though I screamed for my beefcake—let's be real, I somehow…maybe…sorta definitely called him a cock-muppet pickle-eater the moment his two cronies tackled me—he ignored my bitch ass and let them drag me away. The nerve!
I mean…I suppose the thing was my fault. I was the one who let that little tidbit slip. And let me tell you, reader: I had plenty of time to think about my little faux-pas while was I locked up.
Seriously! What sort of logical person blurts something like that out? Yeah, well…apparently I'm not very logical. Or smart.
And, as I was freezing my butt off on a ship whose people worshiped fire (I'm never going to get over that), I had plenty of time to think about my life choices…example: leaving Pedro's chimichanga stand for a cartoon universe with absolutely no guarantee of the duration of my trip. My brain was whirling while I was sitting in that cell.
You see, Flannel-Hobo-Wizard didn't exactly give me a decent answer on the length of time for my cartoon-inspired vacation. No, he said that I'd be in Avatar-land for a few days or a few weeks. And, now that I wasn't wet with the thought of seeing my stud-muffin in person, I could only think about how that was a very big timespan. Technically, season one of Avatar: the Last Airbender lasted one literal season: winter. And, considering that I only wanted to see my beefcake, I was anticipating a very, very short vacation.
However, now that I'm sitting here typing this all out…I can tell you that that didn't happen.
Readers, make sure to read the fine print on the "blank" side of Flannel-Hobo-Wizard's card. Here's why: have you ever seen The Santa Clause 2, where Tim Allen has to find a Mrs. Clause or he's gonna lose his super swag gig? Well, Scott Calvin finds out that the card that the old Santa gave him was filled—freaking littered—with special instructions. And as I sat in that prison cell, that little scene was the only thing on my mind and I searched for that mother-flipping card.
Those bimbo soldiers who hauled my ass to prison let my keep my backpack, which I gotta say, was absolutely dumb. Remember what I said last chapter, readers: security in the Fire Nation Naval forces is extremely lax, apparently. So, I quickly searched through my soaked jean pockets and realized that I was card-less. A little panicky, I started to empty my backpack.
My baby blue Dakine (yeah, yeah, shuttup…I'm a walking advertisement, I get it) backpack was stuffed with some legit school supplies. A notebook, a blue and purple binder filled with college notes (international policy and American politics, respectively), a few pens, a single mechanical pencil, a small booklet about the United Nations, my waterlogged laptop, an extra pair of socks (don't judge), and my cell phone quickly covered the floor of my cell.
I rummaged through everything trying to find that card. I flipped every…single…mother-loving page of each book, binder, and notepad until my fingers got all old-people prune-like. And then I stopped, panting, as I thought of the worst possible scenario. Dude, I thought that I was gonna die.
I shit you not, but I'm pretty sure that Flannel-Hobo-Wizard was watching me or something because when I searched through the backpack one more time, it was on the bottom of the place where I usually keep my cell phone, sticking to the light blue fabric. To me, finding that card was like finding that single mystery French fry in the bottom of a fast-food bag. Ya don't know how you missed it when you originally took everything out of the sack, but you ate the portion that you were given and you aren't quite satisfied. And man, when you find that extra fry…that thing is gold.
So, I grabbed that little mo-fo and flipped it between my fingers. It was a little soggy from my ocean adventure, but lucky for me, the pouch that I found the card in was water-resistant. I did everything my little brain could think of doing. I held it up to the flickering sconce on the wall, thinking that maybe Hobo-Wizard gave me a hidden message in lemon juice and I blew on it with the hottest breath that I could muster. No luck.
When I couldn't think of any other classic message-revealing methods, I plopped on the floor of my cell and spread myself out, tossing the card back into the backpack for future inspection. My fingers, toes, and head touched each wall of my cell and all I thought about was how cozy the place could be with a cute little bedspread and a painting or two. And maybe no bars, that was kinda a big one. Curtains? Maybe those would work.
My thoughts were immediately disrupted by the pitter-patter of boots and a squealing door hinge. I didn't bother to move. I mean, I was pretty positive that my stud muffin wasn't going to come back anytime soon.
Oh, how wrong I was.
"So—" The sound of Jason Isaacs's voice forced me to sit upright. I stared at Commander Zhao, my inner monologue once again adopting its perverted nature. "—you claim that the Avatar has returned."
He gave me a tight-lipped smirk and wrapped his arms behind his back, clutching his wrists. Oh, shit…that pose again. I bit my lip. Could he tell that I was turned on again? I bet he could—I bet that he could smell it. Him and his beasty body, super sick military training, and animal instincts…rawr.
When I got out of my stupor, I nodded at him and quickly got to my feet. I pushed myself against the steel bars and wrapped my hands around them. Man, all I wanted was for him to get closer and touch me.
"Yes, sir," I said, still nodding like I was a four-year-old trying to get his attention. Come on, me…you already had it. Also, important point that I called him 'sir' again—I was still freaked out that he would burn my face off. Damn you, Zuko.
"What led you to that," he paused, looking over the stuff that was strewn about the cell floor, "conclusion?"
"Umm." Once again, my response was absolutely eloquent. "I'm a Space Ranger?"
First thing I thought of was actually Power Ranger; specifically, my favorite version of Power Rangers, which was Power Rangers…in Space (creative, I know). Somehow, though, it got combined with Toy Story in my head and I automatically thought Buzz Lightyear: Space Ranger. Either way, the premise was the same…I wanted to be the "chosen" one, the one who would defeat the great Emperor Zurg or Astronema, the "Princess of Evil".
Here's the thing though, you remember how I said my thoughts were perverted? Well, right then, I wasn't the dirty kind of perverted, I was the twisted kind of perverted. You see, I didn't want to defeat the evil, I wanted to be the evil. Oh yes, this is going to be a story about how I joined the side of the Fire Nation.
Hey! Don't you get all critical, reader! This was my vacation and I planned on doing it the way I wanted to do it. Joining the Fire Nation, being with my stud muffin…hell, that was my ideal holiday. After all, none of this was real, anyway.
"A Space…Ranger?" Zhao asked, his eyebrows turning down in his confusion.
"Yeah," I said, still nodding. "Here's the thing though, Pookie." Guys, he winced at the nickname. Note to self: choose another one. "I'm here to help you. No strings attached—well, I mean—" Here come my dirty thoughts. Yes, those kind of dirty thoughts. "—I mean, there could be strings attached, I'm okay with light bondage." He gave me another weird look and I huffed. "Okay. Here's the thing…I'm going to straight up help you capture the last airbender."
"And why would you do that?"
I smiled at him and pulled myself as close as humanly possible to the bars of my cell. "Because I maybe…sorta…like you."
He took a step closer to me and he gave me another tight-lipped smirk. Oh, if my insides weren't puddling before, they certainly were now. He was close enough for me to smell his cologne again and I wafted it up like it was a forbidden scent. Mmm…I can smell it now: cinnamon and oranges. Like freaking Christmas minus the presents. Wait…wait…Zhao was my present. And I could definitely unwrap him. Oh yeah, I could totally strip him down to his birthday suit and ho, ho, ho myself right up to him.
"How could you 'like me'? We've never even met."
Damn him and his super logical, animated self. Jeez, I didn't think that this would be so flipping hard.
"Let's just say that I've been watching you for a little while." Good cover, me. Yeah, that didn't sound creepy…at all. "And I have to say, I'm disappointed with your future."
"Are you a fortuneteller or something? Because I don't believe in that sort of phooey."
Oh yeah, reader. He said phooey.
"No. I'm certainly not a fortuneteller. I'm just a twenty-year-old college girl who really, really likes bad boys. And you're definitely—" A small swath of my pink tongue darted across my bottom lip. I was totes flirting with him. "—a bad boy."
"What's your name, Space Ranger?"
"Mary."
"Ma-ri?" he asked.
Gosh darn him! Pedro never got my name right, and that was okay. But dang nabbit, I wasn't going to let Zhao get away with mispronouncing the most common name in the world.
"No, Honey Bear." Another nickname that he didn't like. "Mary."
"Mary," he repeated, testing it. The way he said my name, I wondered how it would sound when he was screaming it while I was hiding him like a horsey. Oh, I bet that it would be divine.
"That's me," I smiled.
"Well," he extended his hand to me, a gesture that I could only assume was a handshake, "nice to meet you."
Let me tell you about me, readers. I'm not exactly a fast human being. In gym class, I managed to run the mile in about 17 minutes; the best that I've ever done is 14:37…terrible, I know. But in the moment his hand was stretched out to me, waiting for me to shake it, I moved quicker than the Flash. I freaking pounced on that hand and clutched it with both palms, shaking it up and down like it was a well pump.
The best part? He was warm. Like, extremely, almost uncomfortably, hot to the touch. And remember, I was still wet and soggy, chilling in a prison cell. So, I totally wanted to get super close to him.
"Nice to meet you too, Commander."
He grinned at me—grinned at me, readers! I was…like…15% of the way to a full out smile. And then he walked away, out of the brig entirely.
It took me a second.
"Hey!" I screamed, pounding the bars to my cell. "Hey! You left me behind! Yo!"
Damn him.
We all know the basics to prison etiquette: be good and you get rewarded. But let me tell you, readers, it was super-duper hard to be good when all you had around you was three steel walls and a wall of bars. Good thing I had my trusty backpack.
"Backpack, backpack," I sang in my best Dora: the Explorer sing-song voice I could scrounge up, digging through my knapsack for the umpteenth time trying to uncover something that wasn't there the last time I checked.
Next thing I knew, I could hear the familiar screech of the door opening. No big deal, it was probably Waggle-Finger—whose name was actually Chuck, I shit you not—bringing me my dinner: jook…a runny rice concoction. Yummy.
A tray was sat down on the floor and shimmied through the bars while I kept singing my song.
"Backpack, backpack. On the backpack loaded up with things and knickknacks, too. Anything that you might need I got inside for you. Backpack, backpack. Backpack, backpack. Yeah!"
Somebody cleared their throat and I looked up. Oh, shit. My love bunny was staring at me, clearly amused by my Nick Jr. song.
"Um." I looked around, not really aware how long I was singing. "How long were you listening?"
He smirked. "Not that long. You're a horrid singer, though. Perhaps you should invest your time in other feminine hobbies."
Readers, I'm not above bitch-slapping cartoon characters. Trust me, after two days of being in prison, I was about fed up with the whole idea of being in the Avatar world. So I scowled at him, perturbed with his response.
"Rude," I commented, my blue eyes narrowing at him.
"Oh," he tatted, tapping his curly-toed boot against my cell bars, "and here I was about to let you out."
I looked at him, my face softening as much as I could make it. The idea of getting out of that damp prison was really, really enticing. I honestly wasn't even thinking about jumping Zhao's bones (computer typed out bones, but I really wanted to say boner) and I got to my knees. I didn't want to beg him, but there didn't seem like any other way.
"Please let me out. I promise that my motives will only benefit you."
He smirked and a piece of me shouldn't have been surprised that he was enjoying my groveling. Throughout the Avatar series, Zhao was nothing less than a power-hungry maniac. Having absolute control over every situation was his jam.
"Really?" he asked. "Why don't you tell me a little bit more about yourself. I can't help but notice your," he paused and looked me up and down, "attire."
"Space Ranger," I snarled, kinda pissed off. We had been going through this few the past few days, now. Though, this was the first time that he had come in and given me dinner. "This outfit is what all of the top rangers wear."
"And is 'Reebok' your rank?"
I looked down at the sideways logo and stifled a chuckle. "Oh yeah," I smiled. "Reebok is the best of the best, ya know."
"Interesting." He bent down and inspected me again. This time, though, he focused on my eyes and hair. "Your physical attributes are unusual. You originally told my captain that you were Fire Nation. Care to explain?"
My nose twitched. "Let me tell you something, Honey Bunny." He winced and I was enjoying his discomfort. So far, I had used quite a few pet names for him. If you want a list, wait until the end of the chapter. "I'm not Fire Nation. I told that to Chuck so he would get off my back and lead me to my true target: you. You're the reason why I'm here, Commander Zhao. And if you let me out of this damn cell, I can guarantee you that I won't disappoint you."
A soft laugh escaped his throat. It wasn't a jovial sound; it was definitely condescending.
"I have yet to trust you, Space Ranger Mary."
I winced. I would have preferred it if he would have attempted to call me something cute. Babe, sweetheart, darling…honestly, any one of those would have been fine. But to call me 'Space Ranger Mary,' it just sounded so horribly…cold.
"Well, locking me in a cell won't let me earn it," I quipped. Kinda true when you think about it.
He considered that for a moment and tilted his head to the side. "If you take one step out of my sight, I can guarantee you that you'll regret it."
Oh. An opportunity.
"Sweet Pea," I stood to my full height and grabbed the cell bars again. "I can promise you that I won't ever leave your sight." I bit my lip, drawing it into my mouth a little bit. Did he understand my innuendo?
Unfortunately…no, he did not.
Instead of looking at my hungry, desperate-ass face, he unlocked my cell door and I sprinted out of the damn thing, dragging my backpack behind me.
"So," I smiled, "where to, Commander Zhao?"
"First thing, first," he scolded, stepping super close to me. Oh, goodness. That cologne again: Christmastime, stripping, birthday suits, and happy endings. "We need to get you a more suitable outfit. Your clothes are weird."
I looked down at myself. Black Rebook Jersey tee, American Eagle high-rise jeggings, Columbia socks, yellow Converse. "They're normal to me," I sighed. "But okay. Just…don't make me wear pink, alright?"
All I could imagine was me wearing some sort of clown suit like Ty Lee's and I shuddered, thinking about all the pinkness of it. Blech. Important tip about me: my favorite color is blue.
"We have red," he nodded, somewhat pleased with his admission. "Lots and lots of red."
Understatement of the year, readers.
I followed Zhao out of the brig, passing barracks filled with young soldiers, armoring themselves up for their nightly duties. Even though I was curious to see if any of them could speak, I continued traipsing after my beefcake as we made it to the room he was gunning for. He opened the Z-barred door and hopped inside, gesturing me to follow. Of course I sped after him, entering a very dark room with my beloved naval officer.
He had a small fire in his hand—my first exposure to a bending art. And let me tell you, it was awesome. And when we were both inside, he fired that small flame to a few sconces, lighting the entire room with a romantic, flickering light.
There may have been boxes all around us and he may have just locked me up for two days, but I would have dry-humped that man right then and there. Hell, I would have gotten off on him something terrible.
Instead, though, he continued walking through the room until he paused at a box. He rummaged through the damn thing and pulled out what he was searching for, holding it up in the air so I could look at it.
A dress, readers. A ridiculously ridiculous red dress. The only thing that would have made it more comical is if it looked like Ron Weasley's fancy wizard robes. So, I snorted at it.
"Um, I haven't worn a dress since I was three. They aren't exactly…compatible with me."
"All proper women in the Fire Nation wear dresses. If you're going to parade around as one of us, you need to look like a proper lady," he remarked.
I couldn't fight with that logic. I really wanted to keep my Chuck Taylors, though. And, obviously, Converse and dresses only look good in anime…or on really adorable-looking girls—both of which, did not apply to me in that situation. So, with a very dramatic huff, I snatched the dress from his hands and threw it across my shoulder.
"Put it on," he smirked.
I smirked back. "With pleasure."
Immediately, I started performing my sexiest strip tease, pulling my Reebok tee above my head with the grace of a hooker. And Zhao looked at me like I was the only woman in his dark mind. Hell, he didn't have to stare at my tits when they were cold and wet anymore. No, he was about to get a front-row seat to my lacy, nude-colored bra. And my panties? Oh yeah, he was about to see the sexiest Victoria Secret lingerie that I owned.
And then he flat-out bum-rushed me, ripping apart the remainder of my clothes with his teeth.
Lies, reader. All of that was a big fat lie. Yeah, here's how that situation went down…
I fumbled with my tee, pulling it over my head while I miraculously managed to get it wrapped around my ear. Somehow, I managed to pry the fabric over my noggin while looking like a desperate child. My nude-colored bra looked worn hard since I hadn't taken off for two days and it was starting to smell a little funny, but I wasn't about to take it off. No, I had absolutely no idea how to do a chest binding and asking my stud muffin at that stage in our relationship seemed a bit…forward.
So, when my shirt was finally off, Zhao took a look at me, his hazel eyes casually glossing over my semi-nude form while I bent over and untied my shoes. Definitely not the way I usually get undressed at home…that's the truth.
Shoes first, readers. Shoes first.
So, while I hobbled trying to untie my Converse in my bra and jeans, Commander Dickhead laughed at me.
"First time getting undressed in front of a delicious specimen like myself?" he mused.
"Well," I panted, royally pissed off with how he was reading my nervous vibes, "yes." I wiggled forward, trying to balance myself until he laughed again. "Ya know," I scolded, "this would go a lot smoother if you weren't so—" I interrupted myself. I was totes going to say distracting, but when I stared at him, I couldn't admit that out loud. No, it still seemed a little too early; we were just acquaintances.
"So…what?" he asked, stepping forward and grinning at me.
Oh, he totally knew what was happening. Over the past two days, I was a nervous wreck around him. And even though he never alluded to the fact that my body turned to mush before his eyes, he was certainly taking advantage of that now. Kinda creepy. But kinda erotic.
Here's the big one, reader. That one word I'll only use one time a chapter.
"Fuck it," I snarled, throwing my shoe to the ground and looking at him like I was going to devour him. "I came here for you. Flat out…you." I was winded and my chest was heaving with my admission. "I want you to screw me."
He stepped forward one more time, getting so close to me that his armored body was just barely pressed against my skin. "Now, was that so hard?"
I dead-panned. "What?"
He waved his hand in front of himself, nearing my face with his calloused digits. His movements were downright sexy. "You've been hiding behind so many lies; it's nice to see that you're finally telling the truth."
Instantly, I got irritated, maybe a little bit irate if I'm being honest. "You've got to be kidding me?" I snapped. "This whole time, you knew?"
"Mary," he chided, clicking his tongue at me like I was a child. My face reddened at the sound of my name. "I knew what you wanted the moment you walked into my office."
What a twat.
"And?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
"And what?"
"Am I gonna get a bit of your dick or not? Because I'm ready and waiting."
He smirked at me. "I'm flattered with your interest. But, I must admit…you're ridiculously ugly."
That comment rendered me speechless. Readers, I'm not the prettiest thing on the planet. I know that, honest, I do. But still, if you throw a bit of makeup on me, I don't look too bad. And so I stood there, gaping like a dying fish. Damn, that comment hurt coming from an animated character, somebody who wasn't freaking real.
"Oh, don't worry," he smiled, still toying with me. "I still plan on using you. And in the future, when I've exhausted your use, I'll give you what you want."
I remained very still, thinking about the dickhead's words. He may have sounded like an asshole right then and there, but here's all I really heard: 'I'll give you what you want.'
Oh. Oh my. Oh my goodness.
"I'll tell ya what," I growled, making myself seem not pissed off with his ugly comment. "That doesn't sound too horrible. Wanna make this official?"
I held my hand out to him, looking down at my feet and realizing that I had only actually taken off one shoe.
He took my hand, shaking it calmly before he backed away from me, allowing me to resume changing my clothes.
Finally wearing a red kimono and a pair of weird sandals, Zhao and I stood on the deck of his ship. He had finally confiscated my backpack, which left me with nothing to mindlessly pack and unpack or sing about, and I was standing beside him, my arms crossed over my chest…straight up pouting.
Yeah, none of this was going the way that I had anticipated. I was going to have to work for Zhao's affection. And that kinda pissed me off, especially since I was still curious about the whole timeline thing that I was talking about earlier.
You see, I still had no idea how long I would be in the Avatar-verse. I could've gotten zapped away on day three…or hour three. But I didn't. No, I was about to spend a considerable chunk of time in Avatarland. And now that I was there, out of a prison cell, I was slowly convincing myself to take advantage of every opportunity.
Slowly, we pulled into port, stilling alongside a massive wooden dock. And Zhao trudged down the gangplank, me in tow (as per our agreement). And so we carefully navigated the Fire Nation-controlled piece of Earth Kingdom harbor, passing a fair number of soldiers as we hiked. The sun was slowly going down, disappearing behind the ocean in the distance before I recognized where we were.
"Oh," I mumbled out loud. "Oh no."
Zhao turned to me, still maintaining a steady gait as we walked. "What's wrong with you, Space Ranger?" he mocked.
"I know where we are."
"The Earth Kingdom, obviously," he smirked.
"No, Pumpkin," I said, smirking as he winced at another one of my pet names, "we're about to get company."
"What are you talking about?" His voice raised a bit, a sign that he was getting a little irritated.
"Prince Zuko is coming." Blue and hazel eyes locked. "And I bet that he'll be here tomorrow."
A/N: Is everybody still enjoying the story? Let me know by fave/alerting/reviewing. Reviews are my favorite, though. So please take a moment to let me know what you think.
To all of the people who have reviewed already, y'all are my heroes. Thank you so very much! :)
And, as promised, Mary's pet names: Sugar, Buttercup, Babe, Dumpling, Tootsie, Dreamboat, Shnookums, Hot Stuff, Casanova, and my personal favorite...Sugar Daddy (which we'll be exploring later).
