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He hauled himself up. Every muscle in his aching body protested as he pulled himself farther onto the concrete. Zuko's heart was beating like a drum. It was pounding and trembling, and his chest was tight. His vision was blurry, and sweat dripped down his forehead. He couldn't spare the energy to wipe it away, so he lay there, winded and grateful to be alive. His head hurt, and his muscles were gathering with adrenaline soaked tension. He was having to gasp for breath, and it hurt with every intake of oxygen that passed in his dry mouth. He coughed, wheezing, and curled into himself while he waited.
Seconds later, a fuzzy outline appeared to his left, and he closed his eyes. Good, he thought. Sokka had caught up with him. His hand rested against his shoulder, where blood dripped from the unseen wound.
It was dark, almost pitch black. His gold eyes could only make out the depth perception of some shadows—but that was a good thing. They needed it this way. They'd had only a little while to get here while the lights were out. With the electricity off, the heat sensitive monitors wouldn't catch either of the two out of place men sneaking in the inner works of the palace.
They'd made it in. He and his brother-in-law were waiting for Aang—his other brother-in-law—to trip the alarms now. Now all they had to do was be patient for the signal and meet up with Jet at check point five—where they could peel off the wet suits and equipment until heading out again.
Sokka was a few feet away from the firebender, on his hands and knees, soaked in sewer water. He was drawing in loud breathes, and he pushed himself to his knees, placing his hands behind his head. The sound of dripping water splashing against the grimy concrete puddled around the both of them.
But it wasn't like they could see the disgusting, inky water. They'd turned off the small bubbles of light—made by the same man that'd made Zuko's voice adjuster—they'd brought with them to save the batteries.
Zuko was still trying to figure out how to breathe normally. They'd just outdone any records for under water sewer diving—while holding their breath and fight the currents. Once he got his heart to slow down to just a thundering tremble, he'd still have to wait a few minutes before conjuring a flame for light.
He and his friend had just swum over a path of drainage pipes, only getting the chance to come up for air when the opening allowed. The currents had beat against him, and he'd almost been swept along into a separate route. But they'd made it. That was all that mattered.
Zuko looked over to the panting man and offered him a weary smirk. He probably looked bedraggled—worse than the time a few weeks back when they'd saved Katara from the press. His black skin tight wear was the same as Zuko's, and the only difference as of now was that there was a long gash in Zuko's. He'd snagged it on rusty metal on the way up the pipes.
He hadn't looked at it yet either. His shoulder hurt like hell, but it was better than being caught by palace guards and given to Azula. That would be unbelievably worse.
He didn't want to be tortured again. Ever, if he could help it. But eventually, he'd have to face her again. It was a good thing it didn't have to be until tomorrow.
He might not have been so calm otherwise.
They were below the palace, getting intimate with the sewers. It was a vast expansive system that stretched from every corner under the city. With the security as tight as it was in the airport, the inner city would only be worse. So they'd gone underground to avoid any run-ins with other human life.
And everyone had opted for safe than sorry. The four of them had split up in three groups. Jet went to check point A, over in the east end of the sewers. All he had to do was slip up through the man holes and find himself in an old servants' wing. Aang was in check point B, inside the palace. His location was more precise—he should be in the wine cellar.
"Have I told you yet that you're brilliant?" Sokka panted harshly in between ragged coughs. "Absolutely brilliant, Zuko."
"No. But…thanks." The firebender said sagely.
Sokka chortled. "You're welcome, Princey."
"Snoozles, if we get out of this alive, remind me to get you whatever you want." He alleged with a hint of gratitude. "A house, a car, anything. Just name it, and you'll receive it."
The other man was starting to breathe better, his breath becoming more even. "Hey, I might actually take you up on that offer, Zuko. Be careful what you promise. Because I will hold you to your word."
"I'm a man of honor. You don't have to tell me that. I keep my word."
"I know." Sokka looked away at into dark tunnel they'd just swam in from, eyes narrowing in sorrow as they adjusted. "That's what I'm worried about."
The four of them had even planned what should follow in step if everything went as planned. A quick toast of wine. Sleep. Food. Their partners. And privacy.
Except Aang. He was substituting the partner for video games. (Poor, poor airbender, the three of them had all thought.)
Zuko had gotten past four airport security check points, and six of his sister's Dai Li agents. Couldn't be said about Sokka though. Stupid dolt hadn't gotten caught by the security, or by the undercover authority. He got caught accidentally stepping in the women's restroom. Twice. In the same airport.
Zuko had worn two different disguises from the earth kingdom to the fire nation's capital. And that wasn't including the changing of his attire at every airport. Or the makeup and the weird applications Sokka had helped him apply with to alter his features.
All Sokka had done was put on clean clothes and zipped up his messenger bag before they'd left their unsuspecting woman behind. Zuko was a bit worried as to how they'd react once they realized the four of them weren't on a fishing trip but on a mission to stop the next global war.
Ooh, he didn't want to think of what his sweet wife would do once she found out he was doing this for her more than anyone else. Despite him loving her feistiness, Katara would murder him, yelling and crying all at once. Knowing her, she'd kill him slowly, with his own swords. Then bring him back to help clean the mess she'd make of her brothers and Jet.
He prayed he either returned to her on good terms or just died an honorable death. It'd be humiliating having to tell his waterbender he'd failed. He didn't want to leave her behind where she was vulnerable, but it couldn't really be avoided. She should be fine, though. Katara was a waterbending master.
His tenseness eased a bit, and he grinned. He was married. No matter how short of a time, he couldn't believe it had been so…attainable. Once upon a time, he would have thought this as a punishment. Being married, that is. But it wasn't. Katara was his everything. Sure, they had arguments, and there were the differences in the way they'd grown up prior to meeting one another, but he loved her.
He loved her enough to ensure that this plan was seen through. Even if it ment wearing all sorts of things that make-up artists would be proud to have been a part of.
The fundamental basis of his disguises had revolved around two main set of key features. One included a trench coat, trip pants, and combat boots—involvin temporary hair dye, fake tattoos and piercings that had looked convincingly real. The other one involved uncomfortable shoes, a wig long enough for him to wear a traditional fire nation top knot from past times, and enough prosthesis to give him a scar covering the entire area of his left eye.
He had been an eye sore the entire way since they left the Omashu. He was tired, thirsty, and sick of the cologne he was wearing. But it was worth it. They'd made it.
The entire point of making disguises that stood out so badly was to hide him. Sure, people looked at him, but no one had recognized him. They'd seen the red herring. The things that everyone saw, but couldn't really do much more than offer a glance at and look away. Why? That was the thing—he'd been wearing things that had attracted curious eyes. And because he'd glare right back, and they'd look away. No one said anything, and the authorities had perceived him as someone that wouldn't be of much harm. (Other than the violently bright highlights and the wincing amount of (fake) tattoos, the security hadn't offered him so much as a second glance. They were used to the oddities. And they'd overlooked him.)
They'd been too busy noticing the affects they'd been meant to see rather than the person's using those props as a cover.
Aang had been an old man in most of the airports. He'd had no trouble blending in—unlike Zuko, who'd been stiff and uncomfortable almost the entire time. Aang had had it easy. With his disguise, he'd only had to slur his words, drool and bit, and have that far out look as he hobbled to every terminal and lobby.
Aang had also taken several pictures of the four of them. The airbender had the nerve to say that these pictures would one day be funny for everyone.
"Aang, now's not the best time, you moron." Jet said as Sokka walked in. They'd travel in pairs. Of course, they'd come on the same planes—they just come in a group of three and one. As a lone man that stood stiffly with his earphones practically glued to his ears; and an aging father figure accompanied by his two grown sons, making sure their confused father didn't get lost.
The airport bathroom they were holding hostage was assured for them alone. An out of order sign hung on the door. They'd even snuck the fancy things the airports used for orderly lines past everyone and in front of the men's bathroom.
So far, no one uninvited had come in.
"Nonsense! Katara's going to love these!" The airbender took out his camera, and snapped a picture of the other three scowling at him. They were looking sideways over to him from by the wide, shallow sinks, dismayed and somewhat annoyed. The airbender snapped another picture, and grinned. He'd gotten all four of them in the last picture—the reflection of the mirrors and the angle had been perfect.
"You've got to admit, you guys. We actually look like what we're supposed to. I look like an old codger," Aang's amusement was growing, and his voice completely betrayed his age from behind his disguise. Some old man he sounded like—his voice was excited, and filled with laughter. Not that that part couldn't be in any age...it was just that Aang sounded more like a collage kid than anything.
"Zuko looks like a punk," He gestured to the firebender, who had a wad of paper towels in hand. The fire bender was clean shaven, and he was scrubbing away the makeup he so very much hated. "Or…Goth? Anyway," He dismissed the confusion of what the firebender's current disguise classified. "Sokka looks like a stiff business man with a stick up his butt, and Jet looks like a sex symbol."
"But he isn't even—"
"I take that as a compliment." Jet showed his perfect teeth in an award winning smile. "For once, someone else finally agrees with me on that."
Sokka suppressed the urge to snort. For once, he looked presentable. He wore a dress shirt and black slacks. His hair wasn't messy or his normal unkemptness. His shoes were outrageous expensive and polished, his belt stiff—being the first use and all. Even Zuko had to admit his brother-in-law could clean up well. His stature was proud and unafraid. This was a man that oozed confidence, but he underplayed it so the chance of getting mobbed by women didn't arrive. He'd already escaped a few by flashing his wedding ring in their faces. And ducking behind Zuko. The coward.
Jet's attire was plausible. There wasn't much different than his normal attire. Like Sokka, he had nothing to hide. Sure, he may have money, but somehow, even when the press noticed him, they immediately frowned at him and thought, "He looks familiar, but…who is he?"
Aang, of course, looked like a man well past his eighties. His wrinkles had wrinkles, and his age spots had age spots. His bald head was tattoo-free, with sparse, wiry gray hair on the sides of his head. He wore old man clothes, with his shirt tucked in above his belly button.
"Right." Sokka sarcastically rolled his eyes as he helped Zuko change his disguise. "And Katara's going to frame them."
Jet was half way through with the process of changing his disguise. "Never forget your wife, Sokka. Of what I've heard of her, she might want one of those pictures as her screen saver."
Sokka groaned, and shot Jet a middle finger through the mirrors. Jet laughed, half heartedly saluting the pissed off Sokka. "You'd think he's on his period, wouldn't you?" He asked to no one.
Sokka shook his head. Zuko curses loudly, and looked at his reflection. Even he couldn't recognize himself. He tore his clothing off, and washed away the convincing looking tattoos. All it was, really, was a nontoxic ink—though he was scrubbing until his skin was raw getting the stupid ink off.
"Jet, shove it, won't you? When this is all over, you're free to do whatever you want. You lucky bastard. The rest of us have family to go home to." Sokka scoffed. "This is terrible. It's only getting bigger."
Zuko froze. So did Jet. Aang was grinning, and he clapped Sokka on the back with a chuckle. The firebender thought about it for a minute, and glanced up at his brother-in-law.
The light bulb dinged. "Suki's pregnant?"
Sokka nodded, lips thinning.
The firebender's mind blanked and he tossed his shirt. Poor Sokka. Man had two girls to return to when he got home. And one day, their eternal clocks would synchronize, and the poor man would be screwed once a month. And if Suki was carrying another girl…
The thought of PMSing women made him repugnantly snort, trying to shove back memories of his sister and her days of the month.
Zuko was grateful he and Katara weren't expecting yet. He wouldn't be doing this if she was. He might have even thought of just hiding away for the rest of his life while his father conquered the world. He and his family would be safe, and he would be set for the rest of his life.
But…he wasn't that kind of man. He just couldn't stand by and watch as that happened. His father planned for an epidemic. He was going to wipe out the entirety Earth Kingdom and the Northern Tribe if no one stopped him. He could very well wipe out a good portion of the world's populace simply by poisoning the food supply.
And he would. Ozai was just that kind of monster.
That's why he and his most trusted friends were risking their lives for the rest of the world. It would only be a matter of time before the new crops were planted and treated. Then distributed across the globes in mass numbers, no places spared but the Fire Nation. Even then, if Ozai's master plan succeeded, many of the Fire Nation's people would suffer. No one would be truly able to escape the horrendous mutations of fatal poison in any future generations of crops.
It was only a while away until it was too late for anything to be done. So they were doing something now.
Whish was why Zuko was coming back to his mother land. He was going to expose the secret laboratories and the cruelties of his father and his sister. Sure, they might be related by blood, but they weren't his family. His family was Katara and her family—his friends and the close group of people they both trusted. Which wasn't a whole lot either, as he thought about it.
Reaching down, he could have sworn he heard Jet gasp. Sokka started humming along with music echoing in from the intercom.
Sokka stuffed the clothes Zuko tossed at him into the trash bin. There was no use bringing them. They would only weigh the them down, so the clothes had to go. The piercings did to, fortunately. Securtiy check point wouldn't let him through if his carry on held large traces of (supposedly) sharp pointy things. They were plastic, for crying out loud. He wouldn't miss them a bit.
The firebender wrapped the fake piercings in a paper towel and chucked it in the trash bin. Good riddance.
Sokka pulled out the next disguise for Zuko, handing it out for the banished prince to take.
And the next transition began.
After that, they'd had three more planes to go through before reaching their destination. The traffic had been terrible. There had been the delays in the airports that he didn't want to remember. The gobs of people in the lobbies…the crappy food he'd shoved in his mouth because he was hungry…the rude taxi driver…
He never had liked airports. Then again, he'd never liked being in a large group of tourists and strangers.
Abruptly, he looked up as the sound of faint sound filled the underground sewer, echoing in the slightest before it faded away. He stopped breathing for a minute, and a chill shot through him. That was just creepy. For a minute there, he'd thought…
It echoed throughout the sewers again.
To the two of them, it was the worst sound ever randomly conjured. Just like a crazed teenager had written this out, sleep deprived, and raging for arbitrariness.
"Maybe just…my imagination." Zuko hoarsely muttered just above a whisper. He shook his head. "Sewer water's getting to my head. I'm hearing things."
"Me too, buddy. Could've sworn I heard someone laughing."
It got quiet, and Sokka's eyes widened as he realized that Zuko had gotten equally still.
"Holy crap, that's creepy. I think it's time we head to—"
The firebender agreed, cutting the man off. "Affirmative. Let's haul our asses and let's get out of here."
With the next minute, they got the hell out of there, wasting no time climbing up the rusty latter to the above world, escaping the childlike laughter the both of them had imagined.
The beautiful woman hung up her phone, and watched her surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, seemingly. But there was. Outside of this uptown out lit, something significantly important had just taken place.
Several of the city's main power lines had been ruined. Not cut, but left in utter ruins. Someone had taken out the lines and the core of this source. The entire system had been burned, and the mangled central controls were a work of a master techie. This was a team effort, not a solo act by the evidence. The steps it would take to tap into the computer system was one thing. To be able to get the timing right, and hit the three emergency trips in secession wasn't capable of just one person. And the only way to be able to know about the secret 'off switches'—so to speak—could only mean it was someone on the inside of the operation.
But who? was the question. This was now her new assignment. To find and dispose of the traitors.
The system was ruined. It wouldn't just take hours to fix it; it might take weeks at the bare minimum. The specific wires and pipes that had been corrupted weren't the public's stream of electricity. No. It was the source that ran into the palace's underground. The secret labs. The Dragon Bone Catacombs needed that power back for the Fire Lord's plan to work—to operate. The labs couldn't run without them. Because if there was no electricity or fuel, the experiments wouldn't be possible to contain for much longer. If the containment was a problem, the scientists would be in danger. And so would the Fire Nation's capital.
These experiments were dangerous. Which was why they were going to be released every but the Fire Nation when the time came. These horrid experiments would wipe out millions once they were activated. And no one would be able to stop them.
Her assignments was to find out why the lab's income of power was shut down. She had two days to figure it out. That was the time limit not of Azula, but of the clock on the wall. That was when the containment levels were released.
Her suspicion was that it was another assassin. Most likely hired to take out the Fire Lord or the Princess. Her suspicions were almost always right, and she knew for a fact that there was little chance of her bring wrong.
Quickly, she grabbed some clothing and went into the nearest dressing room. Officially, she had about ten minutes before she must leave, so she used that time wisely. The clothes were her size, and clung tightly. But it wasn't unflattering. Looking in the mirror, she breathed heavily in boredom. The reflection she looked at was of a beautiful weapon. Quiet literally.
She had the perfect body, and she knew it. She used that to her advantage on her runs. Her job runs, mind you. Her thin figure was natural, and her features only slightly enhanced. Her eyes were a cool gray, and her hair a curtain of black. Her straight cut bangs were loose, and her hair was styled casually. She wore makeup, and her nails were painted black.
The woman tried on several of the clothes, her thoughts lingering. They headed to her past, and she unwillingly remembered in vivid detail. She turned slightly, and gave the outfit a bored look. The material was tailored perfectly. She looked like a model. She was a model. Therefore, she really shouldn't expect any less.
Her skin was naturally pale. Flawless. Except for the scars on her mid back, which the clothing covered. The jeans were a little baggy and her heels were buttery soft leather. The black top clung to her like a second skin, and the design was sexy—bordering scandalous. Just the way she liked. It kept people—men—from ever knowing the danger that surrounded her. That she was the impending danger. They would be too focused on the sex appeal to notice or even think that she was a choice assassin of the higher class. They couldn't recognize her. The assassin in plain sight.
Her runs where everything was stealing to assassination, to recovering to implanting items, to spying, to seducing. Her preferred weapons of choice were throwing knives, but poison was her second alternative. She was a good shot, and her favorite gun was always with her.
The only evidence she had of any of her runs was the deep scars on her back. Those, she wouldn't let go. Even though it would be practical to get rid of them with corrective surgery, she chose not to. Those were the pleasure marks from the man that she had loved. From the man that hadn't ever uttered much more than rustic sentences , and hadn't loved her in return. Prince Zuko.
She'd always known her downfall would be when she let someone close. And she had. Not intentionally, but it had still happened all the same, hadn't it?
It was Azula who had been behind it. When she was young, Mai had always thought Azula's brother was attractive. It was Azula who suggested she and he become an item. It was then she who forced Mai into a deal she couldn't back out of. One that would set her for life.
Years ago, when she had officially become Azula's lackey—for lack of better term—her first assignment was simple. Seduce Zuko, proverbially tie him down, and keep him out of the way of Azula until further notice.
That had been her first run. She had been eighteen when that had happened. By blood, she was noble, therefore acceptable enough to be a candidate for Fire Lady. Or his girlfriend, if nothing less. People wouldn't think anything if she and Zuko dated.
She hadn't made plans for him to find out she was his leash, nor had she planned for him to disappear. She hadn't expected for the feelings to return when she saw him again years later. And she hadn't planned to have her heart broken when he wouldn't make love with her a few months ago.
Mai definitely hadn't anticipated on being the jealous lover who was no more.
She certainly hadn't planned any chance of him escaping. If she'd had any ideas that the precautions would slip, she would have drugged him further than he'd already been. Then made it where he had to marry her. By getting pregnant with his child. By law—since he was the Prince—they would have been married. By Zuko's honor, he'd grudgingly have to comply.
At the time, she'd come to terms, and had feared Azula enough to do what the Princess wanted. That…and she had liked him from afar for years. When she'd been a little girl forced to play with the Princess, she remembered blushing around him, and thinking of him for hours at a time. A crush, she icily referred to it as.
So, she had become the bait. Zuko was what her assignment had been. The way it should have happened: him falling in love with her, and eventually, he would have proposed. She would have the man she had always desired, and she'd been happy.
But, obviously, that wasn't the way things had happened.
The next time she saw Zuko, circumstances had changed. Years had gone by, and it had been almost that long since she'd offered the Banished Prince a moment's thought. And when she had seen him, her breath had caught in her throat. Her normally in-check emotions had become overwhelmingly confusing, and her thoughts hazy. The normally indifferent Mai had dealt with internal conflict.
He was bloody. The evident aftermath of Azula was left in half formed bruises all over his naked body. He was dirty and unkempt, and completely desirable. Mai liked what she saw. Not the torture—no, she wouldn't ever wish Azula's wrath on anyone. She enjoyed visually ravishing the way his body had developed since she'd last seen him. He was quiet possibly the most beautiful specimen of male embodiment alive. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him, and his body was honed to perfection. Sized proportionally and well.
Zuko was conscious, sitting on a bare mattress in an equally bare room. From her angle, she could see that his expression was blank, but something was off. Something other than the fact that'd he'd been dragged back and beaten to a bloody pulp.
She watched him for a short while, and was surprised when he started murmuring. His voice had developed to its permanent depth, but it wasn't the rich quality that made her teeth gnash together.
It was the mentioning of her. He muttered a woman's name, and shuddered. With the smallest of gestures, she'd notice him touch his neck with the back of his fingers. Then she spotted the coin sized mark, older than the fresher bruising on the rest of him that his fingers touched. It was most defitanly a love mark, made by his most recent lover.
She had grown aroused and she had become furious for reasons she didn't even understand. She was angry at him, but…she didn't know why. He'd done nothing to her in the past that she hadn't deserved. He'd done…nothing to her, in fact. Other than give her unforgettable nights and a few gestures that had been expected from the relationship, he'd given nothing to contribute of himself.
Unlike her, who'd given everything she'd had to be with him.
Once she'd seen him, she wanted to turn around and leave. She wanted to look at him forever, and have him ravish her like before. She wanted nothing to do with him. She wanted everything he could offer.
He was in her past, and she didn't want to remember him. She should feel guilty for what she would have done to him, but…she felt betrayed. And she didn't know why.
But… her next mission had been to watch him through the one way glass, and monitor his actions. It had been torture to not be able to come in contact—to have nothing more than a few feet of space and a thin sheet of a transparent, one way mirror amid her and him. It was another test. Azula had only let the first mistake slip because it was her only one. She wouldn't be allowed another, or she'd be eliminated.
Making sure it was safe, she'd dosed his food with a powerful stimulant. This type of stimulate was impossible to become immune to. It heightened arousal in someone until they could do nothing but succumb. It was unheard of to be able to resist. She'd walked in, her every intention to seduce him. But she failed. He wouldn't accept her even when he was drugged. Somehow, he'd been able to resist.
She had stripped him, and even assured his libido was spiked by certain means of drugs, but he still hadn't allowed her that. Zuko had given her a warning by besting her—A.K.A. using his martial arts—and if anything, she could hold him to his word. He never spoke unless he meant something. And he didn't just say something without having a reason. He hadn't changed a bit since their teenage years.
What she still didn't understand was who she was. The girl he wouldn't cheat on, that is. Mai was positive about this. Somehow, it seemed like an unreal thing. The man she had once been owner of, was now owned by another woman. The old Zuko would have had a wild ride of sex with her. As far as she knew, he had been unaware of her deal and her role in his life years ago.
This new version of him was repulsed by her. And that gave her fear. What had changed him that much? He'd once told her she was the most beautiful woman alive, and that no woman could compare.
And she couldn't think of any woman beautiful enough to have changed his view on her. So…what had happened?
Ripping off the price tags, she paid for the clothes by simply tossing several hundred dollars on the counter. She left before she could be given change. She couldn't disarm her thoughts of her obsession over the banished-but-still-very-well-alive-Prince. However, she could move the subject away a little. For a while, that is.
She suppressed her emotions entirely. Her icy, uninterested interior returned, and her mind became the mind of a deadly tool. Every possibility made her feel a little more alive. Not with emotion, but with... she never knew what to call what this sensation was. Her predator's high?
It didn't matter. She had a new mission. Find, and take care of, tie up any loose and/or bloody ends. Problem solved. Next assignment. Repeat.
She might not understand her confusing feelings over Zuko, but she did understand the simplistic views of her current task. The team that was working to find the computer genius would be updating her via earpiece once she turned it on and they found who she was looking for. Clocking in was as simple as putting the flesh colored ear piece in.
She'd stop by the food district to pick up Ty Lee. The woman should be in the south side right now with an acquaintance of hers. Mai distinctly remembered the bubbly woman chirping that it was an old friend from Kyoshi. The leader, to be precise. As to how Ty Lee had become acquainted with such a far off person was slightly interesting. Just not appealing enough for Mai to care.
Moreover, it was only reasonable she had the use of one of the world's greatest acupressure practitioner at her disposable if anything happened. She wasn't that far from there, and she didn't see the point in calling her associate. It wouldn't take long to walk, though she knew she was going to be bored.
So she went. Mai headed there by subway, calmly settling the comlink in place.
Katara dialed the old mobile phone with a bit more force than she had to. The waterbender had every right to be angry. She had every right to be pissed. She was here alone in a foreign land, her two friends weren't picking up their cell phones, and she was lost. To top that all off, her husband had left her. Not for another woman—no, she knew him. He left her so he could knowingly rush off to step into a deathtrap to martyr himself.
Along with her husband, her brothers and Jet had taken off. After she'd figured out what was going on, she'd thrown herself into a flurry of cleaning and packing. The waterbender had called her two friends and arranged for the three of them to save their men. Idiots.
Zuko had reasonably thought this out, and intended for her to be tucked away safely at their home while he sacrificed himself to keep her safe. She honestly didn't know how to take that. It kept wallowing in her thoughts, being the more primary thing. She was still going on her options before she decided with one and stuck to it. Should be angry? Or should she be humbled? Maybe terrified for his life…?
Nah, she'd not separate that group from one another. Except she still weighed what she was going to do when she saw him.
Voice mail picked up again. The waterbender groaned as she sank to the curb, head in hands. She pathetically begged her phone to cooperate with her.
This wasn't fair. They shouldn't have done this to her. They'd known the consequence, but they'd pulled the wool over her eyes. And it hurt that they had lied to her in the way they had.
All of them. All six of them. Suki and Toph had run off, leaving her in the busiest district. By herself. Which was just as bad as what the men had done. They knew she was directionally challenged.
The only problem was that it wasn't them that was to blame for them getting separated. They'd gotten separated only because Katara had rushed off after someone that had looked like Jet. It hadn't been. Surprised, the guy had to blink to gather his thoughts.
Almost as soon as she'd turned back, she realized she'd put serious distance in between the restaurant and where she was. Wherever here was. She only had herself to blame, but she wasn't willing to admit that yet.
Gathering her bearings, she decided to meditate. She might as well come down before she did something stupid and incredibly rash, so…why not? She straightened her posture, and started breathing in deeper. Just in the manor Zuko did when he meditated. La, she was pissed at him. At her brothers. At her friends.
She'd chosen a busy place to sit down, and people glanced down at her as they walked past. She tried her best to ignore them. The district ran along both sides of a river walk. Katara focused on the water. The water was clean and untainted. A fountain was beautifully cascading into a miniature waterfall over a good ways away. It was clear even with is it was in the distance. It had to be huge, seeing as it looked to be a foot tall from her angle.
Her breathing became automatic, as she cleared her thoughts. Closing her tired blue eyes, Katara let her fingers curl around her purse strap tightly. It was more of a reflex than anything. The long purse strap rested on the curve between her neck and shoulder, until it ended on her other side. It was her messenger bag—her only luggage that she'd brought.
She couldn't see it right now, her eyes being closed and whatnot, but she concentrated on the water. Letting that be her focusing point, she visibly relaxed. Her fingers flexed, and she knew the water had jumped a few inches higher before it crashed down to the surface, raining down in a curtain unlike the design of the fountain had been intended.
She didn't like calling attention to herself. Ever. It wasn't in her to want to be the direct center of everyone's attention. She didn't mind, but she just didn't really care at the moment. She could be perfectly content just meditating, listening to the crowds and feeling the water flowing in the river walk.
After a while, she gave up. Though this was the first time she'd ever really tried, her meditation didn't calm her in the least. Sure, her thoughts weren't so jumbled, but that said nothing about her emotions.
She didn't know why, but the strangest feeling nudged her. It was a dark feeling, one that dropped down in her belly, and settled heavily. Its tendrils of shadow wrapped around her, and her heart sped up. Something was wrong. Something had either just happened or something was about to happen. She knew what the familiar distress was, but she didn't know what was causing the anxiety.
Of all times….
When she and her family had moved to the earth kingdom from the southern water tribe, her maternal instincts had bloomed early. She'd started taking care of herself and two teenage boys at the age of fifteen. She'd done dishes, laundry, mending the clothes, cooking, cleaning….everything up to helping Aang and Sokka in school work. She'd started her first part time job that year, too.
Come to think of it, she'd been a waitress at that Red Lobster for two years before having to quit. She'd loved it. Her first paycheck had been what motivated her to keep going.
Having had stepped up to fill the position of their mother and caretaker, it was plainly deficit to see why. She'd even taken care of Gran Gran before she'd passed. She took time off of school when the time arose, and she put down almost everything to be there for her grandmother. She'd been nineteen when she'd held her grandmother's hand as the woman died in her sleep. She'd been nineteen when she'd had to officially move out of her care taker's—that term was used lightly here; Katara wouldn't ever had burdened their ancient grandmother with that—house and find a place of her own. (And Sokka's and Aang's…)
Even before that, she'd been taking care of people. And being linked with almost every care giver was their inborn callings and instincts. Call it her woman's intuition, or whatever—it had never failed her before. Unlike someone else's instincts in her family….. In comparison, hers were more accurate and reliable to Sokka's.
She was hungry. Stomach growling, she quietly grumbled. A massive craving for strawberries smothered in chocolate struck her. With a giant cup of coffee. So getting up, she followed her nose. She started walking towards again, and wouldn't stop until she'd found the building that smelled strongest of coffee. She needed it, and there was no leeway to argue with her craving.
To begin with, she was already in a well known food district. Many of the buildings were two story—this was an older part of town that had never gotten to the point of being run down. The restaurants had living quarters above the establishments. The architect of the fire nation was lovely. She could even see some similarities here and there to her and Zuko's home.
The plus side was that there wasn't an eating establishment that couldn't be called pleasurable eating. The down side was that the Fire Nation was overly crowded this time of year. It was a national holiday of some sort, and she and her problems weren't exempt to it.
Even if she'd never been here, she knew the layout well enough. Thank La she'd taken a look at the magazine of the food district on the plane. There had been fold out maps that she'd looked at in boredom. Who would have known it would come in handy? Even if she was a bit hazy with the ordinance, it couldn't be too hard. What she did know is that there were several coffee shops nearby.
She cut across a few alley ways, and soon found out why she had them to herself. They were so narrow and cramped—they weren't as wide as she was tall! Compared to the gobs of people on the main street, she'd take this any day if it got her to point A to point B as quickly as it was.
Her footing slipped on a puddle, and she steadied herself before walking on. Certainly, there were puddles. It had rained the day before. Yeah, it was going to be hot. It was summertime in the Fire Nation, wasn't it? She wasn't going to complain about anything. Not even her predicament. Not of having gotten separate from her friends. Not of having her brothers and her husband lie to her. Not of being hungry. Not of having massive cravings for chocolate and odd combination foods. Not even of the fact that she felt bloated and moody a good few days before her period hit.
No, she wasn't going to complain. Because if she did, she knew it was going to be a while before she stopped.
So she thought of the positive things. It was a beautiful day. She was in the Fire Nation, with no one telling her what she could and couldn't do. She was wearing her favorite jeans that hugged her body in just the right way. She had gotten her entire house sparkly clean before she'd left. (Abet, she'd tackled it only because there'd been nothing else to take her frustration out on.) She'd gotten fitted in with Suki's hair stylist two days ago, and was happy with the results. (It had been time for a cut, anyway.) And Jin was watching Kayla. (Suki and she had hit it off not long after they'd met. )
There was a coffee shop calling out her name from beyond the corner, catching her eyes immediately. She could see people walking past the ally way with coffee cups in hand, and this goaded her to go a little faster.
"Miss! Miss!" A small voice cried out, and she just had enough time to glance back behind her before a small body tackled her legs. She looked down, and a big brown eyed boy was whimpering, looking up to her once before clinging tightly to her legs.
Damn. This wasn't right. This hadn't immediately registered as strange. She actually caught herself thinking this as normal for a minute. Having random youngsters pop out of nowhere was not normal. Neither was having them somehow singling you out of everyone else in town, and deciding to sob their heart out on your shirt.
"What's wrong, kitling?" The waterbender asked to the small boy in a coaxing tone as he cried. He couldn't be older than five, she estimated. He was dirty, and looked too thin for her liking. He was small, but he shouldn't be that thin. His dark hair unkempt, but she touched the child's head gently, and her feeling she'd just felt peeked. The uneasiness returned, and she let her senses spread out in probing.
"I lost my big brother!" The child said in a loud voice. He buried his face in her shirt, and her sympathetic heart moved. He was an orphan, by the looks of it.
She'd always had a soft spot for them, having almost been one herself.
"Is there anything I can do?" Katara's side swept bangs fell in her view, but she felt the presence before she saw it. Well, hey, it was behind her—but still! And that was all the warning she got.
Her hand shot out. In the span on a few seconds, Katara twisted a guy's arm into a locking hold, gently pushing the small boy out of the way. She'd thought to be protecting him. The little boy let go of her, and she resumed. She firmly twisted the figure's hand a little farther, and the person gasped in pain.
He couldn't tug himself without getting himself in a worse predicament than he was. He tried to kick her legs, but she deflected it simply by twisting his arm further and turning out of the way. With a step, she had his hand up in between his shoulder blades, and his face pressed against the wall.
Little boy tried to tug her purse, and she as she realized what was going on. Her hands were full, so she turned her icy eyes on him. The five year old hesitated, but didn't let go yet. He couldn't get the latch of the purse open. Nor could he get it off of her.
"It's one thing to try it once, kitling." She warned him, and gave him a stern look that caused him to cease. "It would be wise not to do that again right now."
She was already angry, but it whirled into it was hotter and less complex. Then she blinked. Her prissiness wasn't even this bad during her time of the month. Well, that was a given. She was—
She didn't even realize it until her eyebrows shot up. She'd just stopped herself from being an easy pick pocket's target. The little boy and this ragged youth were together. It was just a simple scheme. Her hand tightened, and she winced as the boy winced. This was a discomfort able position to be in, she knew from experience. If he moved at all, he had a good chance of causing himself pain.
She knew better than to keep her money in her purse. There was a lot of things she was, but stupid wasn't one of them.
"If you wanted money, all you had to do was ask." Katara said softly, and pulled out crisp dollar bills from her pants pocket, letting the teen go.
The youth seemed to be in his last year or so in high school. He gingerly rolled his arms, offering her a startled glance.
"How did you know?" The older boy asked. He was gaunt, with old eyes. He'd seen too much. Katara felt a pang of empathy for him. His expression was familiar. Back when the loss of their mother was fresh, that was the same expression Sokka would wear before he was awake enough to cover it. She'd worn the same expression herself too. The boy wasn't angry—at least, she didn't think he was—that their scheme had been foiled. Only mildly curious as to how she saw through it.
Neither of the two boys were in a position to try again. Even if they distracted her, she wouldn't be fooled by the attempt.
Katara saw no harm in telling them. "My husband taught me a lot of things. Zuko saw to it that I'd never have to worry about certain things. Defense was one of them."
"As in…?" the teenager asked, his eyes getting as big as saucers. "Are you serious, lady?"
The little one looked up questioningly, silently inquiring who she'd just mentioned as his brother looked dumbfounded.
Was it really that uncommon of a name? She wouldn't know—the only Zuko she knew was her husband.
She thought about it, and came up with a solution. "I'll tell you about it if you let me buy you lunch."
"Deal." Both of the brothers said.
By the time she'd gotten her second refill of coffee and finished a fresh-out-of-the-oven scone, she'd fed to hungry boys and sent them off with more money than they needed. But it had been worth it. She'd hopefully be remembered in their minds as they acquired their next meals. Because there was nothing she could do for their situation, she could ease it a little.
And like she'd promised, she'd told them about how she came to know Zuko. Realizing as she spoke, she paused ever so slightly, and sighed. She missed him. It had only been a few days since she'd seen him, but she really ached to see him again.
Katara had answered several questions, but not once was she criticized. Only looked at with respect.
She downed the large styrofoam cup, but didn't bother getting another. The lines inside the buildings had gotten busier than she had the patience for at the moment. It was lunch hour rush, and she wasn't in any mood to head back in the crowded building for her personal ambrosia.
Her phone rang, the sharp lyrics making her jump. She hesitated before answering, not recognizing the number. Or the new ring tone. Suki must have messed with the older model again. The number was familiar and she had a vague suspicion. Preparing herself, she looked around, and started walking toward the nearest empty alley.
"Hello?"
"Katara," her brother said. He sounded winded. Her emotions spiked in a dangerous level as his voice calmly laughed.. "How's my little sister doing?"
"Damnit, Sokka. You know very well what's wrong. Now, hand the phone to Aang or Jet before I start plotting how I'm going to unman you."
Sokka audibly winced, and she took a glimmer of smugness of that. The noise coming from over the phone line was minor, but it was there. Was she on speaker phone?
"Yes?" Jet answered. "You called for me princess?"
No. It was too quiet for her to be on speaker phone. She could hear people talking, but it was muffled and faint.
"If anything goes wrong, I'm holding you accountable, Jet." Katara said quietly, voice shaky. "If anything goes wrong—"
"Why not hold Zuko responsible, Kat? He's the one in charge! This is his idea—wait. How did you even figure out where we are? Do you even know where we are?" His tone changed subtly. It was only a slight change, but she could hear the seriousness settle from the other end of the lime.
"Jet!" Katara felt her emotions faltering. She was close to crying. She couldn't lose them. There was no way she could survive if she lost her family. She'd lost her parents and her husband once. If she lost her brothers and Zuko again…..She wouldn't let go of that if they…
"I don't have long, Ice Princess. We've got to go."
No! She had to tell him before he… She needed Zuko to know what he was doing. There was no way she was going to let himself go play martyr without tell him what could very well make him stay alive. And he would. Once he knew, he wouldn't run so gladly out to do whatever he was doing.
La, she was so angry. And terrified for them. Zuko was going to try to save the world, and sacrifice himself in the process. Aang was entirely with him, and Sokka was there for backup.
This was going to kill her if a single one of them died. This was stupid. They shouldn't have gone. But…where exactly had they gone?
All she knew was that she'd found a crumpled piece of paper in Sokka's truck. She had opened it, from years of habit, and scrutinized it. Sokka had never been the greatest artist, but she could understand it. Though it had taken her a while of sitting there and inept confusion, she'd finally gotten it.
It was a rough copy of instructions. The paper was covered in what could look like a game plan, but…how could it be something so simple when it had the actual written instructions in a list? La, he was so stupid…
But...without his carelessness, she would have never known. She could have lost the all without ever knowing what had happened.
Her voice crumpled, and she had to compose herself for a minute. "Promise me you'll watch out for Zuko. I need you to do that for me. You and I both know how he'll rush off with a half way thought out plan…."
There was a pause, and Katara found a clean spot of lean against the alley. Surprisingly, this alley was entirely still, but she was too absorbed in the phone call to notice the movement even if there was. "I won't lose him, Jet. I won't lose my husband again. I can't."
"You really do love him, don't you?" He questioned softly. "Now…I can't promise you—"
"Promise me, Jet. I swear if you don't promise me and at least reassure me that you're going to at least try, when you hang up, I'm going to come and find you. Then I'm going to make you tell me where he is."
"Katara!" He hushed her exasperated from the other line, and she listened for once. "Stop, Katara. I was just saying that to see what you'd do. Don't worry. I'll watch his back. You know…you didn't have to ask me to do that. I already was."
She felt some relief at this, but…
She heard a small sound, and she suddenly cocked an eyebrow. It sounded like…Aang? And when she listened harder, she could have sworn she heard cursing and…
'Give me that, Aang! You're going to blow yourself up! Don't move! Holy crap! Where's—oh! Don't move, Jet. Aang, I want…No. I need you to hand that over, alright? Now…'
Oh, La. Aang was doing something dangerous. Not that that partwasn't normal….It was Sokka yelling at him that wasn't. Her brother seldom yelled at the airbender. When he did though….
"Kat, you are so lucky you can't see this. Zuko looks absolutely horrified." Jet snickered, the serious tone disappeared, and the Jet she knew returned. Suave and charismatic. "Where's Aang's camera when you need it? This is pure entertainment here. This would look great on the front page news. Avatar and comrades, blown up with homemade invention. Nope, here's a better version. Prince of the Fire Nation and comrades, killed because a immature kid, also the Avatar, pokes something just a little too hard."
Katara let out a groan. She really didn't want to know what Sokka wanted Aang to hand over to him. The less she knew at the moment, the greater a chance of not freaking out she had. It was better, for once, not being the responsible one. It was also terrifying not being able to see what was happening. She didn't know what was going on, and there was no way she could get angry if she didn't see what it was. Nor could she faint if she hadn't a clue what Aang was handling.
Oh, spirits. Her little brother could be handling a grenade, for all she might guess. And Sokka could be trying to take it from him before he pulled—
She interrupted her thoughts before she panicked. "Jet? Tell me one thing. Is Zuko okay? Does he know that it almost killed me when I found out what was going on?"
The earth kingdom man took a few seconds before answering. "You want me to hand him the phone instead of me answering that?"
"Yeah." Katara whispered, suddenly terrified more than she'd ever been in her life. "Hand him the phone."
There was a muffled sound that could only be the phone being handed off. There was another pause, and Jet's silence was interrupted by Zuko.
"Katara? Give me a minute. I'm going to walk outside so we have some privacy."
Katara heard a muted sounds, and then, all she heard was the firebender's sigh. "Zuko, please tell you're okay."
"I'm fine." He assured her, and his voice softened. "Or as fine as I'm going to be from jet lag and a sleepless night."
"No joke, dear. I understand." And she did. Katara knew exactly what he was talking of. She seemed to have experienced this just the within the last twenty-four fours.
" Just…let me hear your voice right now, okay?" Katara cradled the phone to her, relieved to hear just those words. She heard slight protest, offended annoyances from the other three. "Zuko, tell me what's going on. Don't leave me wondering. I need to know."
She imagined him sitting down like she was, and she blushed. Just how romantically sappy could she get? Not too much more, thankfully. The coffee was settling in her system. The combination of relief and fatigue had blended together.
So, he talked for a few minutes. They exchanged with each other, telling one another of happenings. Katara told him of the spa day, and announced he needed to try one. Zuko declined, saying he'd only do one if she was part of the package.
She laughed, carefully avoiding the sensitive subject that wouldn't be avoided for much longer.
He told her of how much he hated airports. That he couldn't wait to have her cooking again, because airport dining was much to be desired. He started out just with simple things following that, complained for a moment, somehow winding up questioning her brother's mental stableness.
"What else?" Cautiously, Katara rubbed a hand over her sore neck.
"I'd like to know what's been going on with you. How's everything going? Has anything happened—"Zuko suddenly paused, having just thought of something that needed absolute silence.
"I want you to know when this is all over, I'm taking you back and shutting our bedroom door." His voice became low. It sent a multitude of sensations and mental fantasies as he continued. "When the four of us get back, I expect for you to be ready for possibly the most intense intimacy you've ever had."
"And when will that be? What exactly is it that you have to do this for?" Katara just as easily demanded, eyes stormy.
"I can't just sit back and let this happen."
In frustration, Katara licked her lips. That didn't answer what she wanted to know. "What exactly is this? I have a basic rough sketch idea of your plan, but I don't really get most of Sokka's disorganization."
She could just see him scowling on the other line."What are you talking about? I didn't hear Sokka say anything." Stating that, Zuko let out an irritated mutter. "Katara, the less you know right now the better. You have to just take my word. It's safer for everyone right now if you're left in the dark."
Strangely enough, she wasn't offended. He was right. The less she knew, the less she had to worry right now. If she had faith, she knew they'd successfully do anything they set their mind out on. They were a team. They were made up of two benders, both with exceptional skills. They had three swordsmen. All of them were in top notch shape, and had claimant over sets of skills that most people couldn't lump together much less be found in four people.
Katara changed the topic.
"I found old pictures in the attic. You were so cute as a baby! I even found some of your old things. And..." Katara tried to shake of the smile, but it crept into her tone. "I love the picture of you as a first grader."
He mockingly sounded mortified. "No! Is it the one of me and Azula?"
"That depends. Which picture are you referring to?" Katara slipped a small tattered envelope of pictures from on of her purse pockets; her thumb stroked the adorable face of a younger Zuko. "Is it when she's—" She squinted. "—Oh! I didn't see this one earlier!"
"What is it? Is Azula holding her crossed fingers behind her back?"
"No."
Zuko paused again. "Then what is it?"
Two of the pictures had stuck together, and Katara separated them slowly. The one on the back was a small photograph of an exotic woman, trying not to laugh. She wore her hair in a traditional topknot, and her eyes were the same gold as Zuko's.
Katara knew this woman. She was sure of it. She flipped it over to find the name of the person and the date it was taken. She did the math, and the time line was in the right comparison.
"Is your mom's name Ursa?" Katara asked.
"Why?" Zuko sounded surprised, but she had his attention.
She blinked, trying to draw up a recollection of this woman. "Just curious."
The woman did look familiar to Katara, but she wasn't sure if she'd actually seen her before. It was just one of those déjà vu feelings.
Zuko inquired softly, the noise of movement radiating almost too quietly to be heard through the phone line. She almost didn't hear the pained hiss that could have only come from Zuko. "Tell me what you're looking at." He insisted.
"A picture of her. She's beautiful."
"Thank you." Zuko quietly approved. "I wish I could tell you that she raised me right, but then again, no one knows what went wrong with Azula. We had the same parents, but we turned out completely different. I was never as good as her, and Ozai never did spare the time of day. I'm surprised I even surprised childhood with all the expectations I could never achieve like she could."
"Zuko, never be ashamed what you come from. Be proud of everything you had the privilege of. There's nothing wrong in admitting that you and your sister will never be on the same level."
"Oh, really? How so." He sounded strangely offended, and Katara realized what she'd done.
She shook her head, even though he couldn't see her."You know that's not what I meant. You're a great man, Zuko. From what you've told me of her, she'll never compare to you. Your uncle told me that the most humble of men is the strongest burning candle in a room of many. Yeah, call me cheesy, but I agree with him." She fondly thought of Iroh's smiling face, with a tea cup in hand. "I could have never asked for anyone else for a husband. I don't care if you don't see it my way, but you'll always be greater than she is."
Silence. Katara got concerned until Zuko let out a pained hiss, this time sounding like just breathing hurt.
"Katara, you don't know what that meant. But—" there was always one of those interrupting the sweetest moments, wasn't there—? "—l…I don't know how to thank you for everything."
The way he said it, it sounded like they were never going to speak again.
So Katara changed the subject. Again.
After a few more minutes, the conversation path had twisted. telling him some of her funniest moments things, she remembered something, and told him about Sokka and his first mailbox fatality. He'd had a good amount of mail boxes replaced since then. They hadn't even been his own.
"…I can still remember when Sokka got into a car completely by himself for the first time. Sokka was so proud when he backed Uncle Bato's jeep out of the drive way." She put a prideful tease in her tone as she went on. "He made it down the street and only wrecked into a handful of things."
"Agni, that's terrible." He sniggered, unsympathetically. "What were they?"
"Ms. Diu's mail box, my cousin's motorcycle, the stop sign, and a garbage can. Twice. Me and my cousin Kiro were dying when the fender of the jeep caught and he dragged the garbage can down three streets before realizing it."
Zuko laughed, a wonderful sound it was for Katara, and they gradually lapsed into another silence.
"Katara, I didn't think I'd be able to talk to you today. I…Honestly? I thought you'd be too mad at me to amend anything before something goes wrong."
Her vision blurred, and she clutched the phone with both hands. Just hearing him soothed her, and it re amped her toil of emotions. Which was…bad. She couldn't lose him. Not again. She would find them. She wouldn't let her husband complete his mission. Not alone. This number was traceable. It had to be. Besides, Suki could have it up in minutes if given the chance. The foursome couldn't be that far now.
"Don't say that." She quietly approached the inevitable subject. "Nothing is going to go wrong."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because," the waterbender thought aloud. "You never let things go without a fight, right? I believe in you, Zuko. I may not know what you and the other three are doing, but I know that you'll come back. You always have." She could safely say he never gave up. If that was all she could comfortably hold on to, then so be it.
"I love you." He suddenly admitted. "I love you so much that I can't express it. How can you have so much faith in me, when I don't know how to put it in myself?"
"I love you, too." Was her automatic response, before he could say anything more.
Zuko's voice had her craving him when he let his guard down, and she heard his fear.
"Katara, I really don't know if I will be coming back or not. Everything I have is yours." He struggled for the words, obviously not knowing how to say them. "I won't want to see my remains once Azula's done. I don't want to fail. This isn't what I wanted, but…I can't back out now."
"All I ask now is that you do your best." She felt her heart thud painfully. "Don't worry. Nothing is going to go wrong. I promise you that."
I won't let it. I'm going to interfere and hold you back. I can't lose you, Zuko. I'm going to find you before Azula does and if you're going to do something stupid and ruin everything, I want to be there with you. I lost you once. I'm not willing to lose you again, even if you're mad at me for what happens.
Katara let her left hand drop to her middle, and she opened her sad blue eyes. Her wedding ring sparkled in a glinting way, reflecting the light that bounced off a window. Her fingers splayed over the material of her shirt, and she moved to where she could slide into a sitting position.
She didn't notice the figure walking out of the back exit of a building within hearing distance. And she most defiantly didn't see the person watch her with bored interest as she spoke.
As she pulled her knees close to her, she kept her arm wrapped around her middle. Her stomach was flat, but she could imagine the change in that in only a matter of a week or two.
Zuko wouldn't die without knowing, at least. If he was killed, than so was she. She wouldn't be able to go on like the last time. She couldn't live a half life.
Katara told him, not missing a beat.
"Zuko, I'm pregnant."
3-5-2009
Thursday.
9:50somethingish PM
Kudos to the readers that made it this far. Now... reviews are always encouragement for me to update faster! 3
Here I was, trying to edit this chapter, when I suddenly realized I only have ten weeks until my school lets out for summer. That's just roughly, I'm not really sure how much longer I have. Anyway, I got up out of the computer chair, went straight to the kitchen, and danced until my mom asked me to stop. (My failed attempt at celebration knocked over a giant stack of papers some guitar picks to the floor and into the turtle's tank—which I totally didn't notice until I'd picked up all of the stack and glanced over to that area of the room.) My poor pet turtle was panicking. My poor baby. He's probably traumatized for life because he got soggy homework paper all over him and all over his tank. The sad thing is that I have the choice of either a) redoing it before second period tomorow or b) explaining to my least favorite teacher that my baby turtle shredded my (waterlogged) research before I could get to him or even realize what was going on. XD
~heflo