I'm Not So Cold Anymore
Usually, Katara liked the rain. She liked the feeling of the water falling from the heavens, drip-dropping and plip-plopping onto her closed eyelids, outstretched tongue, upturned face. The rain felt clean, fresh, bringing the promise of freedom and life. Usually, Katara liked the rain.
Not today though.
Icy sheets whipped through the air as the wind howled angrily. This was very different from the soothing, soft showers back at home. Instead of the general sense of tranquility and optimism that Katara was accustomed to, this rainstorm seemed bent, hell or high water, on viciously obliterating everything in existence, including her and her hard-won groceries.
Katara shivered and cinched her damp windbreaker tighter around her quivering body. She wedged herself further underneath the eave of the bus stop, but the wind blew the freezing wetness every which way, effectively soaking her regardless. Two sodden paper sacks lay by her drenched running shoes. Katara glared at them, silently cursing the rudimentary human necessity to eat, and then turned her sullen gaze back to the street, squinting through the wind and water, wishing the bus would just hurry up and come already.
The minutes dragged on. The bus was late. Again. Seriously, the buses here at school were as undependable as Aang's pet flying squirrel. Where he found it Katara would never know.
The sky began to grow dark as night settled in, and the cars zipping by turned on their headlamps, one by one. It got colder. Katara was shuddering violently now, her fingers so numb they didn't seem to exist. Why, oh why, hadn't she taken Sokka up on his offer to drive her to the market?
Images of her brother in his precious pavement-scraping, bass-thumping, tail-finned monstrosity came to mind. "Ladieeeeeees, check it!" The mental manifestation of Sokka flashed his patented grin through the rolled-down tinted window, one eyebrow cocked coyly above his stunner shades.
Ah. That's why. Yes, Katara would rather take her chances out in the cruel world, thank you.
One of the sacks, liquefied by the perpetual torrent, split along the side. Apples, mangoes, and peaches went rolling downhill, towards the street. "Damn!" Katara cried, lunging for the escaping fruit.
She was able to recover most of her food before it reached the muddy gutter, but a couple of apples managed to land there. Grumbling and arms laden with slippery fruit, Katara gingerly reached down to pick up the last two fugitives.
A black sedan rushed by, sending a bone-chilling wave of dirty water over her.
"HEY!" The outrage was too much to bear. "JERK! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? Are you too STUPID to drive in the street, or do you just really like splashing crap all over people!"
The car screeched to a halt, white lights on its rear flared to life above the glowing red ones, and with a whir backed up until the passenger's side window was level with Katara's dripping snarl. She couldn't see past the silvery reflection of the glass, but she didn't flinch, only rearranged her face into an even more menacing appearance. Let the moron argue with her. She wanted to fight.
The window rolled down, and Zuko's face came into view.
"Oh," Katara fluttered.
Zuko wore an expression of mingled trepidation and bewilderment, as only he could manage. "Katara? What are you doing here? School's about three miles away!"
She lifted her armful of fruit. "Scrounging," she said lamely.
"Well, it's almost dark, and it's freezing out here! Were you planning on eating in the storm?" Zuko asked.
Limply, Katara said, "No, but I guess the bus decided it didn't want to come this way today. I've been here since five."
"Where's your brother then? I thought he had a car."
Katara winced. "Yeah, but knowing him, he's probably cruising around downtown somewhere with that airhead gymnast in shotgun and two more girls in the back. Not my scene."
"Ah," Zuko nodded thoughtfully. "Very understandable. Well then, get in."
He reached over and opened the passenger door. Katara lost no time in pouring her groceries into the car and collapsing in the seat. "Thanks," she mumbled through stiff lips.
She shut the door and Zuko stepped on the gas. The car hummed smoothly along while Katara squeegeed the water out of her hair. Zuko wordlessly turned up the heater.
Katara sighed as her body slowly thawed in the haven of Zuko's car. The wipers swished back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm, blending with the sounds of upbeat jazz coming from the stereo system. The strain of sitting for an hour in the cold set in, and Katara's eyelids drooped. It was so warm. So warm, and so nice. Like Zuko, she thought faintly.
She nodded once, twice, and dozed off.
Zuko, weaving deftly through the streets, cast a sidelong glance at his childhood friend. "You're welcome," he murmured.
A/N: I finally succumbed to the siren call of Irrel's fantastic AU story. While in the Friday night Zutara chat, we touched upon the topic of who would hypothetically own what car, and settled on Sokka in a rice rocket and Zuko in something black and sensible, like a nice Camry or something. Toph, we decided, would drive a bigass SUV, like a Hummer or something, and mow down everyone and everything in her path. That is, you know, if she could see. Aww.