Dislcaimer: I do not own Avatar.

Author's Note: Despite taking longer than usual to write another chapter, this one is really short and probably has a lot of typo and grammar mistakes. In fact, I have this nasty feeling that I've got something of the plot messed up in my haste. Sorry about this, everyone but I've been busy. Anyways, I hope you still enjoy it!

+Katara+

Katara and Aang's first encounter was, to say the very least, in unusual circumstances. She had been an amateur waterbender with a grumpy brother in tow; he had been stuck inside an iceberg with his pet flying bison, Appa for the last century. For such a bizarre setting, they had got on better than anyone could have hoped and Katara thanked her lucky stars for it.

Then was it nostalgia that had brought her here? Had her overwhelming longing for the place she knew and the people she trusted that had triggered this dream? If it was a dream, anyways…

Katara turned her head this way and that in the dense fog but she couldn't see anything. The white mist shrouded everything, including her two feet. She wasn't in any way uncomfortable but being a pair of eyeballs wasn't something to boast about.

"Katara?"

The voice made her head jerk around but she couldn't be sure where it was coming from. The voice seemed to vibrate and bounce of the mist, reverberating in the air. But the waterbender was quite sure whose voice was calling her. It could only be-

"Aang?" Katara called out into the fog. Her voice echoed eerily around her like the dense fog.

Plop. Plop.

Katara stared upward toward the nonexistent sky. From the endless white ceiling fell tiny drops of water. It had begun to rain.

As the light drizzle soon turned into a downpour, the fog began to fade away as though the rain was washing it away. Katara was soon able to see every inch of the dirt road in front of her as well her hands and feet. The clouded scene soon turned to one she recognized immediately; she was standing outside the gates of the Fire Nation Palace.

As quickly as it had come, the rained stopped. It left the dirt road beneath her wet and somehow more real and sturdier. The blank white sky had turned a lovely blue shade and the once silent surroundings were filled with the sounds of wind and twittering birds.

Filled with joy at the prospect of being back where she belonged, she ran to the gates as fast as she could. There were no guards there and the gates had been left open so she slipped inside the palace. Katara ran across the front yard and up the stone steps.

Out of breath and sides aching, Katara burst through the double doors of the palace. She had been there several times right after the war for various reasons. Some had been for awards, some had been for meetings and sometimes they were visits to see her friend Zuko.

Zuko… Was he back too?

"Katara…"

"Aang? Aang!" Katara called out as she ran through the corridors, wrenching open doors at random and even ripping back tapestries. Aang was nowhere to be seen.

Then came the sound of whispered conversation, low and secretive yet audible enough to follow. Katara slowly made her way down the hall, concentrating with all her might. The whispering voices were growing louder with every step she took. Finally, she reached out to a door on the left and pushed it slowly open.

The room was completely bare. The floor was wooden with no sign of plush carpeting. The walls were also bare with not a single candle bracket or picture frame in sight. The tiny window at the end of the room sported no curtains and there were no signs that a person had ever stepped inside, let alone held a whispered conversation.

Disconcerted, Katara opened the door all the way. She stepped inside the threshold, feeling the change of carpet to solid wood beneath her. The window must have been open for the door closed behind her. Curiously enough, the fact that she could not feel any breeze did not trouble her in the slightest.

The window, now that she was standing right in front of it, was grimy and was in fact, properly closed. She opened the double windows and the room promptly began to fill with the fog that had been pressing in from outside. Katara, startled by the sudden return of fog, backed away from the window as the room became shrouded in white mist.

"Katara, it's me." The fog spoke to her in Aang's voice. It was weaker than she had ever heard it but there was a certain purpose to it, almost like a warning.

Katara stood still and squinted into the blinding whiteness. She could no longer tell where the window was nor where the walls ended and the ceiling began. Her feet were no longer touching wooden floorboards but felt airborne like she was floating.

The light blue arrow which was almost twin to his eyes materialized first. The waterbender nearly burst into tears when she saw the face that appeared next. Aang looked terrible with hollowed cheeks and dark bags under his once sparkling blue eyes. He reached out to her with a small hand and Katara tried to take it. Her hands were glued to her sides.

"Katara, you're in danger." Aang whispered, lowering his outstretched arm. "You and Zuko both."

Katara nodded, sniffing despite herself. "I know, Aang." She whispered. "But I'm coming back soon. You're going to be okay."

Aang's smile did not display pleasure or reassurance. He was just smiling because he could and maybe to tell Katara that he appreciated her lies all the same. Katara cursed herself for trying to sound motherly to her own boyfriend who had stopped being a gullible child long before she had admitted it to herself.

"Zuko needs your help, Katara. He's in danger." He continued more seriously. "You need to find him before it's too late. You need to find him before they do."

"What do you mean Aang? Who's going to find him? How do you know?"

The Avatar shook his head. His presence seemed to flicker like a guttering candle, on the verge of extinguishing but barely holding on. His eyes were somewhat bloodshot in response to lack of sleep. It occurred to Katara that Aang must have waited for her here, perhaps for days without rest. She was sincerely sorry that she had not reached him sooner.

"Aang, I-"

The fog thickened at an alarming speed. In a matter of seconds, Aang had disappeared again, one with the fog and virtually invisible. Katara was about to reach out and pull him back when the fog pressed her from all sides. She was being smothered by it and she couldn't see anything. Just a stretch of impenetrable white…

She opened her eyes. No more fog, no more eye watering brightness but most important of all, no more Aang. The feeling of relief she had felt just moments before evaporated like transient dew.

Collecting her senses, she got to her feet. She was standing in the middle of an urban street. By the light of a dim street lamp, the street name was illuminated next to broken traffic lights. "Crest Hill Avenue" the sign read.

+Zuko+

Whether you were an outlaw, outcast or just plain on the run, there were some things you needed to know to survive. One was that you had to have a plan, however vague, and two was that you had to have the imagination and flexibility to overcome any obstacles you were presented.

As Zuko had been all three of these things in past, he had a good knowledge of plotting a destination point and figuring how to get there. But even the best of schemers could pass as extremely reckless when they had little more than a folded city map and spare clothes to change into. This was precisely what Zuko's plan equipments consisted of, but as far as getting things done, extremely reckless didn't make it into the description.

Keeping his stolen cap low over his face, Zuko casually got on the bus. The bus driver was a pot-bellied man with a bristling mustache. His eyes were fixed on the built-in television and only looked sideways to check that Zuko had paid. No one would remember him.

Buses in the past had generally had their interior platforms set high above the wheels and usually required a staircase for this very reason. Japan had been one of the quicker countries to change their buses to a more efficient one with their bus floors set level with the curb, eliminating the need for a staircase altogether. Time passed and other countries began to adapt this change in their buses and by the end of the 2030s, most people in the world did not have to climb any steps to get on a bus.

When Zuko sat down on the edge of his seat to make room for his backpack, he glanced out the window to his right, careful not to turn his head completely. Because the bus was set so low, he could easily see the faces walking by. Most were obscured by umbrellas as it had started to drizzle but Zuko turned to the front again, assured that no one was following him.

The bus ride lasted only about 15 minutes. The journey might have been shorter had there not been so many stops and so many people jostling each other to get off or get in. The wet umbrellas and squabbling over seats did not help either.

The lone firebender stayed still until the bus slowed to a stop in front of a posh looking bakery with decorative lights lining the windows. Zuko got off with half a dozen other people who set off in different directions the second their highly polished shoes touched the pavement.

Zuko purposefully strolled in the direction of a phone booth. He waited till the person in front got out then slipped inside, checking surreptitiously that he was not being followed. Upon entering, the transparent glass walls of the booth became tinted so that no one could peak inside. Keeping his head low, he taped his map to the security camera positioned in the upper corner of the booth and promptly began to strip. He removed everything bar his underwear and piled them onto the phone which resembled an ATM complete with keyboard to access the digital phonebook system. Unzipping his backpack, he extracted a pair of work boots and blue green Microbe maintenance uniform. Needless to say, neither fit him perfectly.

As a finishing touch, he swapped his baseball cap for a Microbe one. Hastily checking his reflection on the tinted glass, Zuko zipped the backpack with his clothes stuffed inside and opened the door to the phone booth. The glass turned transparent again as he stepped outside.

Zuko picked up the pace as he crossed the street. He was invisible to smartly dressed people who darted across the street. He chanced a glance at the street sign. Crest Hill Avenue… He had memorized this street by heart on his map but he felt nervous. It was the quelling fear that filled him whenever something was going to go wrong.

Shaking off the feeling that he was being watched (he couldn't chicken out now), Zuko kept his head down as he turned left and down the street. Already he could see the towering building with the Microbe logo shining like a beacon at the top. The cursive 'M' which ended in a curved 'c' was incased inside a diamond. To Zuko, this represented the watchful and calculating eye of his foes within.

+Ethan Jones+

It struck Jones as painfully apparent and equally frustrating that Yumi was not in favor of cell phones. Though Jones continually tried calling and texting her cell, she seldom answered and on the rare occasion that she did, she would hang up after saying two words, "Not yet".

Ethan tried waiting around her office door for most of his second day back but it was in vain. He already knew that Yumi was one of the few detectives who weren't required to come to work in person. Unlike the majority of the others who had partners to work with or was on a team, it was not a necessity for her to show up every single day. Instead, the chief would be content with her daily reports on her most recent assignments and, at any rate, Yumi Kim never slacked off.

On the morning of his third day back, Jones returned to his own office after checking that Yumi's was quite empty. Jones sighed as he sank down in his chair and grimaced when Georgina barged in, knocked over the waste basket and nearly tripped.

"Whoa!" laughed Georgina as she righted herself. Noticing Jones she waved her hand jovially and cried, "Ethan baby! You're back!"

Georgina was also a professional interrogator and had the desk next to Jones. Of course, nearly everyone knew that Georgina spent most of her days chatting on the phone, leaving Jones to do all the paperwork. She was also the only person who called him "Ethan baby" and Jones usually had to put up with her mysterious disappearances (shopping trips) and cover her ass in her absence. To cap it all off, she was the chief's favorite niece and therefore not someone to cross.

Georgina flipped her tricolored hair over her Chanel-clad shoulders and dumped several carrier bags onto her desk. Jones tried not to sigh in exasperation as he turned to his computer screen.

"How's the head, pumpkin pie? Did they give you a cast or something?" Georgina asked as she sprayed her neck with a sickly smelling perfume. "You know I hear from one of my honeys that you might be eligible for a robot limb transplant if you're lucky."

This was another thing about Georgina Jones couldn't stand. Apart from quoting all manner of ridiculous gossip, she always called her friends "honeys" and pets "fluffies" even when they were actually baby crocodiles.

"I'm fine, Georgina. Thanks for asking." Jones said, forcing himself to sound polite.

Jones returned to his computer and idly opened a file on the most recent interrogations. In his absence there had been a pileup of overdue paperwork that Georgina had conveniently forgotten about. As he was about to get cracking on the first one however, his cell vibrated in his pocket. It was a text message.

Found our guy. Sending address to your GPS.

Almost at once, his cell phone's GPS system flickered to life and the map of West Verklay was enhanced to focus on a street where a pulsating circle was labeled, "Xai Apartment Complex, Levinsky Street- APT. 2102".

"Ooh, you're dating Yumi!"

Jones nearly yelled in fright. Georgina had silently sneaked up on him and had read his message.

"No, I'm not-"

"Don't worry!" Georgina chirped with a roguish wink. "I'll cover for you."

"I… what?" Jones was taken aback. She wasn't outright nasty toward him or anything, but Georgina wasn't really the benevolent type. This was perhaps the first time he had ever heard her offering any help of any sort to anybody and it did not bode well. Georgina couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it but on the other hand, it was better left known as a scandal than what this case really was.

"Uh, thanks." Said Jones at last, getting up to leave as he stowed his cell in his pocket. "That's really generous of you, Georgina."

Georgina laughed as though his gratitude was completely ridiculous. "Don't be silly, Ethan baby. I know how hard it is for guys like you to get some nowadays."

Ignoring this last bit, Ethan flashed a forced smile of thanks and sprinted out the door. Perhaps if he hurried, he could catch one of the patrol officers to give him a ride.

Outside, Jones scanned the parking lot for anyone leaving but the he was very much alone. A couple of cars were zooming back and forth on the road just outside the fence but in this age, it was nearly impossible to catch a taxi or hitchhike. Even if you did manage, they were most likely muggers or serial killers.

Just then, he spotted "Johan" coming around from the back of the building. He seemed to be muttering to himself while he gesticulated to an imaginary person. Then Jones realized he was listening to his portable earpiece radio.

Jones grabbed his chance and ran toward him hollering, "Hey, Johan!"

"Johan" did not answer obviously but Jones still hadn't figured out his real name so he just shouted, "HEY! WAIT UP!"

"Johan" must have had his radio on very loud because it was not until Jones had caught up with him and clapped a hand to his shoulder that turned around.

"Well, hi there." "Johan" said when he finally saw who it was. He pressed a finger to his earpiece. Jones wasn't sure if he had turned it off or simply made it louder. "Johan" didn't look particularly pleased to have his break interrupted.

"Look, I need some help." Jones said in a hurry, fingering the cell phone in his pocket. "Could you give me a ride?"

To his surprise, "Johan" was far more amenable than he could have hoped. Almost at once Jones was lead to his new chauffer's pickup truck. As he consulted his GPS cell phone to give his driver directions, he failed to notice that "Johan" was looking grim.

Author's Note: End of chapter 7. Chapter 8 will be coming later. Reviews are appreciated!