Undressed for Success
"Oh, I don't know, Suki. How am I even supposed to answer that?"
The grocery cart clanked a little as her sister-in-law pushed it down the aisle. "Start with the basics. Is he cute? Okay, stupid question, of course he is. So maybe not the basic basics. –Honey, don't grab that, it's not ours." Katara's niece, four-year-old Sesi, had a serious case of 'grabbyhands.'
"Okay, okay. Well, he's polite. Handsome. A businessman, so he's professional, and successful. Not really a big talker, but I don't think he's shy, it's just… I don't know, it's hard to explain. You'll just have to meet him."
"So it's okay if I swing by later when he's supposed to pick you up so I can get introduced?"
Katara panicked. "Nooooo way. I'm not bringing him to meet the family until I'm really sure about him. I expect you not to tell Sokka either."
Suki rolled her eyes, swatting Sesi's hand as she reached for a box of cereal while they were parked in front of the Cheerios. "I won't tell him, because you should. And soon. You've been keeping this under wraps for awhile now, don't deny it."
"Look, I don't even know… you know, what this is yet. We've gone on a couple dates—"
"How many?"
"—okay, four dates, if you count coffee. Tonight will be five."
For his choice, Zuko had taken her to a sleek sushi bar. They had a private table toward the back, and the way the staff behaved clued her in that he was a regular there. Some of the waitresses even recognized him well enough to flirt right in front of her, and while she suffered a pang of jealousy he'd capably driven them off. She had to admit the way his hand hovered at the small of her back on their way out had given her a small sense of vindication.
Date number four had been the movies. After some good-natured ribbing about the selection at the marquee and the back and forth of deciding on an acceptable choice between the two of them – romance was out for him and she wasn't in the mood for non-stop action – they settled on a dark comedy. It was pretty good for what it was, even if she was grimacing more than laughing by the end, but they could both agree they'd seen better. It was the company that made it worth it—and the way his hand fell conspicuously across her knee sometime during the second half, and she realized she liked it there.
But she wasn't about to tell Suki that.
"Five? And you're just telling me about him now? –Sesi, stop it, or we won't get any frozen yogurt later." With the discipline finally sinking in on the squirming little one, Suki sent her a sly smile. "So you really like him, huh?"
She sputtered just a little, "Well, of course I like him." She wouldn't have gone on four dates if she hadn't liked him. It had been curiosity at first, a bit of Ursa's urging, and the thrill of the challenge of getting to know the guy. But lately, it had been just a bit more than that. He was easy to talk to, easy to relate to, easy to relax with. She needed that in the stress of her fast-paced professional world.
They were on the dairy aisle, and finally Katara tucked something into the shopping basket over her arm: a ball of mozzarella. She fancied spaghetti for dinner before Zuko would arrive. This date was a lot more casual than the others, just a walk in the park after most of the crowds would be gone. She was looking forward to a laidback chance to talk.
"So…" and her focus swiveled back to Suki and that devilish smirk the woman wore. This wasn't about to be good. "Have you slept with him?"
"No!" she squeaked, and several other heads turned their way for a moment before she quieted down. "Unlike some people, I don't jump into bed with a guy just because he's good-looking."
"But he's not just good-looking, he's well-mannered and you like him…" The last words trailed off in a near sing-songy jest, though Suki dropped the hook when Katara didn't take the bait. "Alright, fine. Have you even kissed him?"
"No." That one prompted a blush, and her looking away, pretending to peruse the array of deli meat spread out in front of them. "I'm just… er, seeing what happens, I guess. It's actually a nice luxury." And with a pointed look toward her sister-in-law, she added, "No pressure, unlike usual."
"Fine, fine," Suki threw her hands up. "I'll lay off, as long as you promise me— Sesi!"
But it was too late. The girl brought the entire endcap display down with a single tug of the middle shelf. When the attention of the entire market dropped down on their heads, greeted by two very nervous smiles and Sesi's laughter, Katara knew it was going to be a long day.
The spill at the store had definitely cramped her style. Her entire day from start to finish had been pretty meticulously plotted, time slots allotted for crucial things like a shower, cooking dinner… Arriving back home almost an hour late had really put a wrench in her plans.
She barely managed to slurp down some spaghetti in-between ironing the blouse she wanted to wear that evening and hopping into the shower. In fact, she didn't even bother putting the leftovers away before she scrambled into the lukewarm water, scrubbing down and climbing out—just in time to hear a knock on the door.
Crap. Was it really that late?
She tip-toed toward the front door, peeking out the peephole. It was him, and he looked… well, ready. Crap, crap, crap. What was she supposed to do? She was naked underneath that fluffy terrycloth robe and her hair was still wrapped in a towel on her head. If she was running just a few minutes late she could have asked him to wait, but she was running way behind.
But she had a very, very strict rule about inviting guys in. Once they were in there were expectations, usually ones that involved them not wanting to leave again until morning. And they didn't have any set plans; were there a reservation to make or a movie to catch it would have been easy enough to keep things on track.
Pressed against the wall there, she pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think. If she was legitimately busy getting ready, he could just sit on the couch, right? Or she could invite him to help himself to some spaghetti, or—
Whatever. There was no way she could leave the poor guy out in the hall for another twenty minutes.
So with a tight smile pasted on her face she turned and opened the door, peeking out with that towel in full display. "Sorry, I've, uh, had quite a day. You can come in, though." The door swung open further to allow him room and still half-hide her robed figure from his sight. "I'm almost ready just, um, give me another couple minutes. Make yourself at home. Er, did you want some dinner? There are leftovers on the stove."
"No thanks, I already ate," he said, giving her what looked like a onceover after he stepped inside and stood there, awkwardly. As if an afterthought, he added, "Smells good, though."
"Uh, thanks. The couch is over there, if you want to take a seat. I have cable if you wanted to flip something on while you wait. Sorry again."
And without waiting for a reply she darted back into the bathroom and locked the door. All she needed was to breathe for a minute, collect herself, realize this wasn't the total end of the world. (Just close.) She could recover if she just combed out her hair and tied it back, snuck into the bedroom and dressed as quickly as possible…
She could do this.
All told, she was ready in a record fifteen minutes. The television had flipped on at some point while she was brushing her teeth, but at least she felt a whole lot better flashing him that same nervous smile when she finally emerged from the bedroom after hurriedly pulling on her clothes. A quick look in the mirror told her still looked halfway decent, at least.
"I'm just going to put the leftovers away, if you don't mind. Then we can be on our way." Please, please, please don't let him beg for a reason to stay.
But surprise, he actually offered an amiable, "Sounds good," and even a chivalrous, "Don't forget your coat. It's cold out there."
That was the kind of sweetness she wished Suki could see, and she couldn't help the more genuine smile little smile it brought to her lips. "Thanks. I'll just be a minute. Did you want to meet me downstairs?"
He was already getting up from the couch, remote switching the set off before he tossed it back against the lumpy pillows. "Sure. See you in a few."
"Honestly, I couldn't wait to get out of that place."
She scoffed, but there was a laugh behind it as well. "What do you mean? You didn't have to come in."
They'd spent the better part of their walk sharing about their childhoods. How living in the 'country' made her appreciate a patch of grass more than most city-dwellers, and how he'd rarely ever gone to a park and never to a playground, but his family did vacation every summer on the lake before he and his sister got old enough to make their own plans. It was interesting discovering just how different their lives had been before they both entered the more corporate world.
His hand was warm around hers the entire time. She was keenly aware of it, and how their shoulders occasionally brushed when the path began to wind or another passerby warranted half. On a whim, she'd tested the waters by mentioning that in her experience most guys didn't choose walks in the park over a chance to stake out a girl's place… and he'd confessed that.
"It's not that it was bad, it was just… small. I started feeling claustrophobic there—"
"Oh, it was not that small," she laughed again, giving his arm a shove with her free hand.
"Maybe not, but it proves you don't make enough money."
She rolled her eyes. Finances had been a recurring theme – mostly in jest – in their latter conversations. He thought she was wasting her talent, but she also argued that she didn't want to be trapped in a loveless job for the sake of a bigger paycheck. They were at a stand-off.
"Life's about more than money, Zuko," she said, a bit more sternly than intended. His lecture was going to fall on deaf ears.
But he was full of surprises that evening. Instead of the usual launch into how she could be moving up the ladder or saving for a house or whatever he wanted to say, he had a simple, "I know that. But growing up with having plenty, I just don't understand someone who doesn't even want any."
"Hey, I never said I don't want any," she pointed out, but her tone had softened significantly. What he said could have sounded judgmental – like it had in the past – but this time, he just sounded… perplexed. "I just don't need more than enough."
"You've said that." And by the way he seemed to accept it for what it was, it seemed he believed her.
They continued for a few paces but a moment later he came to a full stop, shifting to face her slightly when he added quietly, "You're just not like any girl I've met in a really long time."
"Hopefully that's a good thing." But she wasn't so sure. She'd never seen him so serious before.
"It is. It's a really good thing."
They stood there, awkwardly, for another long minute. She heard the crickets chirping, and the shadows move as a car drove by on the street several yards away. Someone had to say something, and she finally settled on an overdue mention that he wasn't like any guy she'd met.
Before she had a chance to say anything, he kissed her.
It was awkward, it was abrupt. She wasn't quite facing him, and he had to stoop. But after the initial shock wore off, it was sweet, and it was gentle. He tasted like just a hint of orange, courtesy of his favorite tea, and his lips were soft. She only hoped hers were the same.
He pulled away but not so far that his breath didn't still tickle her cheek. She knew – her heart was pounding it – that this was the split-second where they pushed forward or backed off. More than anything she didn't want him to lose his nerve as he had so many times in the past.
So she pushed. Head tilted, feet shuffling just a half-step forward, it meant that the next attempt went much smoother once her mouth connected with his—and it was stronger. She wasn't afraid of letting him know that she wanted to kiss him, that she liked kissing him. Funny how something she'd only briefly fantasized about now and then was so powerfully real after only a moment.
The second lasted twice as long as the first, but he was still the one who broke it off. Yet this time he smiled, slightly, hesitantly, so she could barely recognize it, but she did. She knew him well enough by then to see even that subtle flicker.
And then without another word he stepped back and continued along the path, palm clasped more firmly around hers. That silence began to creep in again, but this time she didn't find it nearly as unnerving.
On the contrary, it was almost companionable.