Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or its characters.
92
"This place is really nice, and I would never dream of complaining about free food," Sokka said earnestly across the food-laden table, "but I thought that Suki was supposed to come with you, not Haru and I?"
Song tossed her hair to hide a flash of irritation, but Sokka wasn't fooled. "Well, Haru should probably come, shouldn't he?" she asked loftily. "Since he is the groom. You're our lovely squatter and I am nothing if not polite, so I invited you, too. You're welcome."
"Thanks."
"This place is so fucking good," Haru said around a mouthful of food. "I didn't even know that rehearsal dinners were a thing, but now it's the part I'm most excited about."
Song glared, murderous and faintly disgusted, at the smudge of sauce at the corner of her fiance's lips. "Not, I suppose, the marriage to the love of your life?" she asked, her tone dangerous.
"The love of my life can't cook like this," Haru said.
"Fuck you, Haru."
Haru gave her an injured look. "Why are you being so mean? You'd never talk to Suki like this."
Song scowled. "Suki and I are experiencing a little bump in the road right now, so, yes, I would," she said.
Haru blinked. "Oh? Trouble in paradise?"
"Yes, we got into an argument."
"Welcome to the club," Sokka murmured, sounding more depressed than he really wanted to.
Song rounded on him. "It's your fault."
"What did I do?" he asked, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence.
"I got in a fight with Suki on your behalf," she practically snarled. "About that little phone call the other day. I let her know that she's being a selfish bitch-"
"Song, you didn't need to do that," Sokka said. "She's just coping with her problems the way she knows how."
Song stood from the table. "Don't you dare act like that."
"Like what?"
Haru looked around nervously. "Song, sit down," he urged quietly but firmly under his breath. "If you cause a scene, we won't be able to book here, and I'll be damned if I don't get these steaks before my wedding."
Despite the heavily affronted expression on her face, Song sat down. When she turned back to Sokka, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I intervened on your behalf-"
"I don't need your help," Sokka cut in firmly.
"Yes, you do, you big fucking baby," Song snapped. "Because this little 'talk' of yours is going to end with you agreeing to all her terms."
Sokka frowned. "Spirits, Song, do you really think so little of me? I can take care of myself."
"I know a man in love when I see one," Song hissed.
"Why are you making that seem like it's a bad thing?" Haru interjected.
"Just because I love her doesn't mean I'm going to just let her have her way with everything," Sokka protested.
Song gave him a pointed look. "Oh? Then indulge me. You're meeting with her this afternoon. What was your plan, exactly, hmm? What were you going to say? What were you going to do? How do you want the conversation to start? How do you want it to end?"
Busted, Sokka thought. He had fantasized several different ways that the scenario would go, with endings that varied from a disastrous break-up to a mutually desired proposal. But he hadn't really given much thought to what exactly he would say, or what points he wanted to make.
"See? I told you," Song sneered.
"Okay, yea, I haven't given precise thought to how I'm going to go about this," Sokka admitted. "But, that doesn't mean that I'm just going to fold."
Song tossed her hair again. "Suki will sweep the floor with you. You need my help. Who has a pen and paper?"
"You're the one carrying a massive purse," Haru grumbled.
"What, are we going to write my arguments down?" Sokka laughed. "Like a lawyer? Like we're in a debate?"
Song rolled her eyes. "You are in a debate. For the future of your relationship. That takes work, that takes compromise. So, you're going to write down the points that you want to make, and you're going to write down the things that are deal-breakers."
"Deal-breakers?"
"Yea," she said, waving her hand irritably. "Like, if 'XYZ' doesn't happen, you don't want to continue the relationship."
Sokka shook his head. "Relationships are not this cut and dry. Do you and Haru do this?"
"Actually, we do," Haru said, shrugging. "It helps a lot in arguments. There's a lot less shouting, and a lot more expressing calm thoughts, opinions, and desires. When you write it down, you're sharing a common goal."
"Fine," Sokka heaved. "Do you have a pen?"
Haru frowned, rummaging through his pockets and shaking his head.
Song let out a long-suffering sigh before pulling a pen and paper from her massive purse. "Must I do everything around here?"
It was that girl again; the sweet one, with the soft brown eyes. The one who'd asked him on a date a while back. The one that Mai had shut down immediately.
The girl tucked her hair behind her ears, blushing a little as she stepped up to the counter. "Hi," she greeted Zuko warmly.
"Hello," he replied. "How can I help you?"
"What do you recommend?" she asked with a sweet smile. "I usually get the cappuccino, but I was thinking I might like to try something different today."
Zuko shrugged. He didn't even like coffee that much. "Cappuccino's are fine. Or a macchiato. Or a latte. They're all espresso and hot milk."
"Oh, okay," she said, derailed slightly. "Umm... well, I'll get a twelve ounce latte, then."
"Wonderful," he said as he rung up the order. "One twelve ounce latte," he called to Mai, who was openly glaring from the back.
She mockingly repeated him under her breath before turning to prepare the drink.
When he turned back to the counter, the girl was still there. "Was there something else?" he asked, blinking in surprise.
"Uh, yea." Her blush deepened. "My name's Jin, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me," she said in a rush.
Zuko frowned, deeply. Probably not the best reaction, since the girl immediately faltered at the sight, but he couldn't help it. Mai was back there, watching. He had to restrain himself from rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. In the ten years since puberty, he had never garnered this kind of female attention.
It was actually really fucking inconvenient. No wonder teenagers are so moody. There's a sweet girl in front of him, who clearly likes him and who would probably be really good to him. And instead, all he wanted was the self-proclaimed bitch in the back who would probably eat this girl for breakfast before turning around and destroying him next. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating as he thought about how exactly he was going to tell this girl 'no'.
Before he could answer though, Mai pushed past him to abruptly slam Jin's twelve ounce latte on the counter. "Here's your latte," she said unceremoniously. "Come back soon." There was a pause, before she quietly added, "Or don't."
Jin glared at her. "Actually, could you give us a moment? He and I were talking." Her dark expression faded slightly. "And thanks for the latte," she added quietly.
Mai's smile was murderous. "Oh, don't let me stop you. Here, I'll just ring you up real quick." She flicked her hand at Jin. "Don't mind me. Feel free to continue."
"Fine," Jin said. She turned her face back to Zuko, who was certain that he would like to die on the spot, and continued with determination. "So, anyway, like I was saying, I'd love to go out with you sometime."
The background noise was punctuated by Mai aggressively putting Jin's order into the computer.
"Oh, uh," Zuko said lamely, running one hand through the hair on the back of his head. There was nothing for it, he supposed. His uncle always said that honesty was the best policy. "That sounds really nice, Jin, but I'm actually in a quasi-relationship with this one." He jerked his head towards Mai.
Jin's face fell. "Oh, wow. Okay," she said. "I understand. Well, good luck with your... quasi-relationship, then." She snatched her latte and left without another word.
"I'm sorry... Come back soon," he called miserably as she quickly strode away. He rounded on Mai. "Thanks a lot. That sucked."
"You let her leave without paying," Mai said remorselessly. "Want me to chase her down?"
Zuko snorted derisively. "I think I'd prefer to rip out my own fingernails."
"You two would be terrible together," Mai said after a moment. "She's too... sweet."
"And you're being mean to her," Zuko snapped. "Which is patently ridiculous, I'd like to add, since you like me but you won't date me and now you won't let anyone else try to date me, either."
Mai examined her nails disinterestedly. "I am not jealous, if that's what you're insinuating. You could have dated her. Nobody made you say no."
"Yea, right," Zuko scoffed. "Why did you come up here, then? I know how to ring people up."
"She literally just left without paying, so I'm not sure that you do-"
Zuko rolled his eyes. "Please. At least admit that you are going about this very poorly-"
"Just because I like you doesn't mean that I have to date you," Mai reminded him.
"Well, if that's the mentality we're going with, then just because I like you doesn't mean I have to date you," Zuko snapped. "Maybe I should chase her down, and then I could agree to her date after all-"
He was interrupted with a kiss, strangely ferocious, strangely gentle, Mai's hands on his jawline and her nose rubbing against his cheek as she pressed herself into him. When she let go, she couldn't- or wouldn't- meet his eyes. "Don't," she said, and he wasn't at all sure what she meant. Don't what? Don't speak anymore? Don't agree to the date?
"Why are you so fucking confusing?" he asked exasperatedly.
"Because," she sniffed, turning away from him and striding to the back. "You're mine."
"And that's not possessive?"
She put her headphones in her ears firmly. "Shut the fuck up, Zuko."
'The Cabbage Merchant', a vegetarian place that came with Aang's hearty recommendation, was the designated meet-up spot. Neutral territory, as it were.
And, both Sokka and Suki had figured that if they met in a public place, things were less likely to result in an argument.
Still, though, Sokka couldn't help but tap his feet nervously, scrolling through various social media apps on his phone as if he gave a shit about his cousin's 5k run or an acquaintance from high school's birthday party. He looked at the time. Five minutes til their agreed time to meet. He stared out the window, past the water droplets that tapped expectantly against the glass, falling from a deep gray sky.
What if she didn't show?
Or, what if she did?
He dug into his pocket, pulling out the little piece of paper onto which he had inscribed all the things, all the thoughts and feelings and desires, that he (and Song and Haru, who'd both had more to say about it than he felt was entirely appropriate) thought it would take to make his relationship with Suki stay afloat. More than afloat, really, since he didn't want to survive a relationship with her. He wanted it to thrive for years to come, to experience the beginning and the end and everything in between with the same kind of love that had been in his heart since he had first pressed his lips to hers in their kitchen, while she was soaked completely through and water was still spraying with reckless abandon through a broken pipe under their kitchen sink.
The little sheet of paper was crumpled from him having pulled it out of his pocket so many times. To read it, to re-read it. To remind himself of 'the key talking points', as Haru had called it. First, that he loved her more than anything, and he didn't want this relationship to end. Second, that he would do everything in his power to collaborate with her, to find a solution that would make them both happy. And thirdly, that he absolutely would leave if Suki couldn't or wouldn't cooperate.
Song had made him put that third one there, despite his protests. Despite the fact that he knew she was right. He frowned, smoothing out the little sheet of paper once more.
And then there was a light thud on the seat across from him, and he looked up to find Suki sitting across from him, clearly nervous but something akin to relief in her eyes at finally seeing him. Her hair was wet, a thin strand of it plastered to her forehead. "Hi, Sokka," she greeted him softly.
He hastily tucked the sheet of paper back into his pocket. "Hi."
A/N: