Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
So I was thinking the other day about where this story is going and there is going to be sex. Can't really beat around the bush. However, I'm thinking about hovering in the grey area between T and M. If I'm feeling the urge to write smut, I'll probably post it as a separate story.
Just as a notice, this chapter will have some of that high-T-rated stuff. Thank you!
The ride to the dock where the Red Lotus were scheduled to be ferried to Republic City was as uneventful as Ghazan thought it would be. P'Li and Zaheer cuddled like lovesick teenagers. Ghazan had grudgingly admitted to himself that they deserved the right to do so, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy watching it.
Luckily for the Red Lotus, their expansive network of contacts remained relatively the same, even after thirteen years of imprisonment. Businessmen, laborers, fighters, they had an in with just about every kind of person. Securing a private ferry and crew was easier than expected, and when that was brought up, Zaheer merely gave a modest shrug. The group had boarded the metal ship, exhausted by the journey but beating with the adrenaline of being free, of being able to see and talk to each other.
Dinner was a modest affair. P'Li ate most ravenously, but the other three held no judgment; they too, upon their respective releases, had eaten themselves sick. Small talk was exchanged, but as glad as they were to be in each other's company again, they wanted to retire to their rooms.
"You know, I really don't like myself with all of this hair."
"Suit yourself," Ming-Hua replied.
P'Li shook her head this way and that, trying to tame the wild miles of hair, water droplets flying everywhere. With a deadpan face, Ming-Hua bent the water off of her face and, subsequently, out of P'Li's hair. "Don't hurt yourself," she sniped.
Either P'Li hadn't heard her or was ignoring (which was far more likely), for she started to hum a nameless tune, running a comb through her Ming-Hua-dried hair.
"You know, Zaheer really thinks that we have a chance to do this right."
"Well, he probably should, he had thirteen years to plan what normally takes him a day. I'm sure he'll reveal his plan and credit some mysterious guru for inspiring him," Ming-Hua commented drily. Then her eyes widened, almost comically. "He doesn't pull that sort of stuff in bed, does he?"
P'Li let a giggle spill from her mouth. "How would I know? It's been thirteen years!"
Ming-Hua stared at her reflection in the mirror she was using to comb her own hair before wryly stating, "Maybe he found some new guru and wants to surprise you with his tricks."
P'Li opened her mouth, ready to retort, with something probably relating to Ghazan if Ming-Hua guessed correctly, but a knock on her door resounded through the room.
Ming-Hua stood and opened the door to admit Zaheer.
"Ming-Hua, how are you?"
"The same as I've been since the last time you asked."
"P'Li is with you, right?"
"No, she's actually on deck watching the sea."
Zaheer raised an eyebrow at her, deciding on whether to believe her or call a bluff.
"You're an ass, Ming-Hua. I'm in here!" P'Li called.
Rolling his eyes with a good-natured smile, Zaheer slid past Ming-Hua into the room. P'Li stood up to embrace him, then Zaheer sat on the edge of the bed, allowing P'Li to finish braiding her hair.
"Ming-Hua, I had meant to ask if your throat was feeling better."
P'Li's eyes widened, her mind racing straight to the gutter. Shooting her a glare, Ming-Hua set her mouth and responded. "I've done all the self-healing I could. It feels better, but obviously you can hear the difference," she ended sarcastically. She had questioned Zaheer about her voice during the ride from her volcanic prison – had he had the same issue as her, because his voice sounded the same, as did Ghazan's. And now, P'Li as well, she thought ruefully. Her voice still sounded scratchy, a perpetual rasp in her throat.
"I'm sorry," Zaheer started. "The only other thing I can think of is that the fumes from the volcano did some extra damage that the rest of us didn't have to endure. According to my books, there can be some potentially fatal exposure, so you really were quite lucky."
"Your voice really isn't that bad, Ming-Hua, I promise."
Of course Zaheer would try to see the positive. Zaheer the academic was only bearable because P'Li knew what to say to fill the gaps. Perhaps it was just excessively easy for Ming-Hua to be pissy with Zaheer; the older brother/teacher vibe did that to her. By the same token, she recognized the un-vocalized question from P'Li – it was something she had heard many times before.
"I'm sure," Ming-Hua responded to P'Li's last comment as she gathered her bag of belongings and exited the room, prepared to find some other place on the ship to spend the night.
The sound of waves beating against the metal hull of the ship was lulling Ming-Hua into a light sleep. She had gone up to the deck to get new water for her arms and had stayed because the liquid had called to her. It was a full moon, everything just felt incredibly magnified. She could feel the blood running through everyone aboard the vessel. While she could perform some bloodbending on a night like this, surrounded by her element and with a full moon, she couldn't master or maintain it on any other day – one flaw that her armless self had yet to fix. Without actual arms, she couldn't perform the puppeteer finesse needed through her fingers; it took too much concentration to form those fingers and bloodbend someone quickly enough to be efficient. Of course, if I had a permanent full moon…
Lost in her thoughts, Ming-Hua was startled when a streak of lightning lit up the ocean in the distance. She shuddered. If there was one thing she feared, it was lightning. Deciding that the ocean would still be there for a few days, she turned and walked back into the hallway where the rooms were. Padding quietly past her- well, formerly hers – room, she heard a rhythmic thudding and voices. Rolling her eyes, she picked up the pace, her bag clutched in a watery tendril behind her. A crack of thunder echoed through the ship, causing her to jump. Thunder means lightning.
"A little jumpy, aren't we?"
Ghazan's voice made her spin around in surprise, her mouth parted and chest heaving. "Dammit, Ghazan. You know exactly what it is!"
And he did. He was the first one to call her out on it ages ago. As much as Ming-Hua enjoyed prancing around in the rain, snow, steam, whatever, she tucked her tail in between her legs at thunderstorms.
"Hmph. It's a shame that you have to be scared shitless to actually talk to me again."
She forgot that Ghazan could have as wicked of a tongue as her.
"You know what, nevermind. Come on."
"Where?"
Ghazan gestured over his shoulder. "I know you're lacking a room for the night. There are four rooms on this ship. One for the captain, one for the two crewmates, and two for us. And unless you want to bear witness to that-" moans started making their ways through the wall- "then I suggest you take my offer."
Normally, their conversation would have never even reached this point; Ming-Hua would have sought him out earlier in the night. But she had tried her damndest to avoid him after that kiss, she still was ridiculously unsure of what she wanted to do.
After all, it's his fault that this is so awkward! Not that there wasn't odd tension before…
"My pleasure."
The room Ghazan and Zaheer had, well just Ghazan now, was identical to her former room. It was a small comfort. Over an hour had passed with small talk, catching up, and general avoidance of the elephant koi in the room.
"You know, I figured that this would happen, but still…"
"Mhmm. Just like old times."
"It doesn't have to be."
His comment made Ming-Hua pause. "Ghazan," she started warningly. She had thought about them, if them was the right word for what had happened. For as long as she could remember, she had been comfortable around Ghazan. Of course, she had always appreciated the superficial things like his appearance, his voice, his bending skill. But he did connect with her in a way that she didn't imagine anyone doing, including P'Li. And while Zaheer's plans tended to be airtight, just look what had happened last time. Maybe, just maybe, Ghazan was right… not that she would ever admit it to him.
"Turn away," she commanded. It was the same drill, as usual. Ghazan would untie her then avert his eyes so that she could change into a shift-like nightdress. In turn, he would too would ready himself for bed, stripping down to thin pants.
Never before had it seemed so weird.
"Do we have a bucket?"
Ghazan located one in the closet, putting it at the foot of Ming-Hua's bed.
"Thanks," she said as she pulled out her hair style with an icy grasp. He muttered a non-committal reply, trying to avoid her.
Soon, Ghazan was ready for sleep, laying on top of his covers, idly playing with the lava in the pot between their beds, its warmth creating the only light in the room. Ming-Hua stopped at the foot of her bed and snuck a quick glance in his direction. Maybe she wasn't ready to declare a public relationship, but dammit, she wanted him and wanted to have him be just as surprised as she originally was.
Two can play that game.
Ghazan, as Ming-Hua suspected, was unaware. He stared lazily at the ceiling, wishing that maybe he could glimpse the starry sky. Sensing her advantage, she pounced.
Ghazan quickly sat up and was met face-to-face by Ming-Hua. She was straddling his lap, hovering over him. He gulped. Knowing that she had won this round, she attacked his mouth with her own. It was just as she had remembered. He smelt delightfully woody and tasted just as good. His shock wore off after a couple seconds, when he finally regained some sense and realized that his lips were already moving against hers, that his hands were already at her hips, clutching them hard.
Reluctantly, he pulled back. "Are you sure? Ming-Hua, I-"
"Shut up and kiss me."
And so he did, enjoying the scrape of icy nails on his back. His hand wound into her hair, yanking her head back sharply and causing her to let out a gasp. He smirked into her mouth and started to pepper her neck with kisses.
He had walked in on her and a random man once, many years ago. Back then, he had only a small squeeze of jealousy which was easily brushed off as she was getting laid and he wasn't. But that chance encounter did show Ghazan that Ming-Hua wasn't about being plain and romantic; she, as some would say, liked it a little rough. Of course, it was a miracle that he remembered it since she had thrashed him later that day.
But that was in the past, and here they were now, and dare he say that she was his?
Ming-Hua had shifted closer to him throughout the exchange, close enough that her petite body was pressed flush against his. Ghazan let his hand unthread from its position in her hair to grip her hips again… Apparently he had a thing for her hips, perhaps because she was so physically smaller than him but was the strongest person he knew. Yeah, sure, that sounded philosophical enough.
Ming-Hua let out another gasp as Ghazan forced her onto him, feeling his excitement. She had to stop doing that, she sounded like one of those girls in a cheesy love story. Nevertheless, she rocked her hips in response. His hands were wandering again, fingers dancing up her stomach, over her cloth-clad breasts, and finally coming up to grasp the back of her head to pull her in for another kiss. Pleasant tingles ran through her body from his touch. His strength and power were turning her on, causing her to once again deepen their kiss.
Someone knocked on the door.
"Hey, can you make another lava pot?"
Ghazan cursed under his breath. Ming-Hua slowly leant off of him, her slip showing a tantalizing amount of skin, skin he had been so close to touching! He forced himself to calm down, both upstairs and downstairs, before responding.
"Yeah, hold on. Couldn't you have just cuddled? P'Li's a firebender, shouldn't she have natural heat or something?"
Ming-Hua smirked at him, moving to her bed when he opened the door for Zaheer.
After he had finished his task and returned to the room, he found Ming-Hua in his bed once again. Dirty thoughts in mind, he went over to her, leaning in, only to be met with a cool water tendril.
"Night time, Ghazan."
"You wouldn't have said that five minutes ago."
"You wouldn't have had five minutes ago if I hadn't come over."
"Ming-Hua, you can't just leave a guy hanging!"
"There will be other nights if you're lucky."
"Sourpuss."
Despite their banter, Ming-Hua let Ghazan wrap his arms around her as she placed her water arms into the bucket beside the bed, ready to go to sleep.
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