Aang Namgyal closed his eyes and counted slowly to 20.

When he opened his eyes again, nothing had changed.

There still was a woman he'd never seen before in his life sleeping in his bed.

She was sprawled atop his orange sheets, legs pressed together and her back to the windows. One of her arms dangled limply off the edge of the mattress and dark hair obscured her face. She was fully clothed, except for her feet, which were bare and – thankfully – very clean. Aang assumed that the lone pair of women's' shoes in his entryway that he'd puzzled over that morning belonged to her.

On the nightstand nearby was a half-full glass of a dark liquid, and the sort of wheezing/snuffling sound that was not quite a snore and often happened when someone had a little bit too much to drink, filled the room.

Aang stared, then made a small, shocked noise when he felt something brush against his bare ankle. Looking down, he was rather relieved that it was only Momo – his Sphynx cat – padding majestically into the room, large ears forward, whiskers twitching.

But Momo paid him no attention at all. Momo looked at the stranger and then up at Aang as if to say, "Who is this person sleeping in my favorite place and how dare you let it happen?"

"Yeah, I know. She's in your spot." Aang said quietly before picking the cat up and cuddling him against his chest. Momo growled softly and Aang shrugged.

"No, I don't know how that happened. Your guess is as good as mine."

Momo squirmed and uttered an offended-sounding meow, which snapped Aang out of his stupor, and he put the restless cat on the ground, not even bothering to watch him run out of the room. He knew where Momo was going anyway – toward the larger part of the apartment, where his partner in crime, Appa, the enormous Great Pyrenees dog Aang had rescued as a puppy, lay in his favorite spot under the dining room table.

Pushing aside thoughts of his pets for the moment, Aang tiptoed toward the sleeping woman, though he felt like an idiot doing so. He picked up the glass and sniffed it. It smelled exactly like the wine from some exclusive Omashu vineyard that Toph had snuck out of her dad's personal stash. You only turn legal once, Twinkletoes, she'd said when he mentioned feeling a little uncomfortable about the liberation of so much expensive alcohol – particularly since he didn't even really drink.

Aang realized that all things considered, he might be taking a big risk, but he steeled himself for an exploratory sip from the glass anyway. He anxiously waited for a few minutes, but nothing happened. Other than the liquid being a little flat-tasting and slightly oily from sitting untouched for so long, it seemed fine.

So the girl in his bed hadn't been poisoned – Spirits forbid! – or drugged, which might have been almost as bad. The wine was potent, so the most likely explanation was that she'd had one too many and had passed out here. In his bedroom. Last night.

Aang put the glass down where he found it and exited his room, shaking his head in disbelief. He hadn't been 21 years old for even 24 hours yet and already booze was causing him some major issues!

Only two hours earlier, things had been normal. Or as normal as they usually were, anyway. Aang had woken from the huge bash that some of his friends had thrown on his behalf to celebrate him becoming, at least as far as Republic City was concerned, a full-fledged adult. He'd appreciated the sentiment but not the mess that had been left behind, though he'd declined Toph's offer to have a cleaning service come in the next morning. He never felt comfortable having others do for him what he could do himself.

Aang had spent hours cleaning after the last guests had left and he was finally alone – or so he'd thought – and had just crumpled in a tired heap after he'd finished. That morning, he'd gotten up, grimaced at the sour taste in his mouth, used the bathroom and then took a whining Appa out for his morning walk.

It was only when he'd returned home that he noticed the pair of women's shoes in his vestibule. His first thought was that one of his partygoers had really tied one on and had gone home without their footwear. The thought had made him laugh, but his chuckling stopped the moment he'd opened his bedroom door for the first time in nearly 24 hours and saw his guest.

Aang wasn't sure what his next move should be. Wake her? Say nothing and wait for her to get up on her own? Do nothing at all? Leave, come back, and hope that maybe this was all a weird dream? Just standing there with his mouth half-open wasn't doing anyone any good.

Finally, he decided on a plan of action.

Not bothering to tiptoe this time, he exited his room, shutting the door until it was only slightly cracked. That done, he then followed the path Momo had taken back to the main area of his apartment.

At the very least, he could make himself some breakfast. Maybe he'd be able to think better on a full stomach.

"Who in the name of the Ice Spirits are you? Where's Jet?"

The strident voice made Aang jump just as he was in the process of buttering a piece of toast. His hands had been literally so full with the ritual of breakfast – frying eggs, chopping fruit and toasting bread – that he'd missed the more general sound of footsteps on his wooden floors. He'd once joked that he didn't need a burglar alarm, because he'd be able to catch anyone in the act, unless they were able to walk on air.

Maybe he really had just been distracted by cooking or maybe the barefoot woman standing and staring at him looking half-sick, half-furious, actually could walk on air.

In a way, he wouldn't have been surprised if that last part, because in the old Air Nomad legends, goddesses walked on air, and if anyone could have passed as a goddess, this woman would definitely have had a fighting chance.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and a little puffy and her long dark hair was a little wild, but she had one of the most gorgeous faces Aang had ever seen, fine-boned with beautiful cheekbones and full lips. Her brown skin was an intriguing contrast to big, heavily lashed bright-blue eyes, and she was tall and shapely and athletic-looking, like a dancer.

His apartment had been jam-packed, but he was amazed that he'd missed crossing paths with such a beautiful woman. Aang certainly would have remembered seeing someone like her, yet he was sure he'd not seen her before that moment.

Aang cleared his throat and put down his butter knife, hoping that not holding dull cutlery would make him look less threatening.

"Er, good morning! I'm Aang –"

"– Where am I? And where is Jet?" she repeated sharply, her head whipping around as if she expected to catch someone hiding in the corners. "What's going on? What happened? Who are you?"

Aang took a moment before answering to push down his irritation. Here was some girl he'd never laid eyes on until a half-hour ago and she was glaring at him like she was being held there against his will. And who the heck was Jet?

He breathed in through his nose the way the monks at the Southern Air Temple had taught him and blew the air out gently between pursed lips.

Compassion. He had to remember compassion.

After all, how would he feel if he'd woken up in a stranger's place and didn't know the owner of the home, saw no one he knew, and wasn't even sure how he'd gotten there?

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you mean," said Aang gently. "Like I said before, my name is Aang. Aang Namgyal. This is my apartment. I had a birthday party last night and I guess you were one of the guests. You, um, fell asleep in my bed."

The woman's eyes widened in horror and Aang gasped, suddenly realizing what that might have sounded like.

"Not with me! I mean, I wasn't there in bed with you! I mean …"

He stopped to collect himself and took another measured breath.

"I was so exhausted from cleaning up last night that I just sort of collapsed on my couch. I didn't even know you were in my room until I saw your shoes in my entryway. Well, I didn't know even then, actually. I thought maybe someone had left their shoes here."

"You thought someone walked out without their shoes?" Her voice was incredulous. "What sort of birthday party was this?"

He tried to smile. She was looking at him as if he had three heads.

"Sorry, I get how that sounded a little weird. What I meant to say is, I came back from walking my dog and –"

Almost on cue, Appa bounded out from under the dining room table and headed straight for the unknown woman, who squeaked in shock, rearing back so quickly that she nearly fell on her butt.

"Appa, no!"

Aang's voice cut through the air like a whip. Appa, not used to being spoken too so sharply, skidded to a stop and turned confused, stricken eyes toward his master.

"No," repeated Aang more calmly, feeling awful for having sounded so angry. "Come back here, Appa. Sorry," he said to the young woman, who was still keeping almost the entire table between her and Appa. "He's friendly, I promise. He loves meeting new people, but I know not everyone's a dog person."

"Um, it's okay. I do like dogs. That was just … unexpected."

She was eyeing Appa in astonishment as he sat on his haunches right in front of her, panting happily.

"He's … huge. I don't think I've ever seen a dog so big."

"Yeah, he's a Great Pyrenees. They grow up to be massive." Aang smiled fondly at Appa. "But he's really gentle. Sorry if he's crowding you. Appa! Come on, let's give the nice lady some space."

Aang took out a whistle that he'd gotten after sending Appa to behavioral school and blew two quick blasts. There was no sound that he could hear, but Appa's head lifted immediately and he scrambled into the kitchen, nuzzling Aang's hand.

"Good boy." Aang patted him briefly and looked up, about to ask the woman a question when he saw her staring in fascination at something in the direction of the couch. Aang turned his head and saw Momo crouching low on the back of the couch, staring warily at the stranger.

"Is that a Sphynx?" She sounded intrigued and she took a step forward. "I've never actually seen one before."

"Yeah, that's Momo. He's friendly, too … sort of."

She seemed to hear the slight warning in his voice and decided not to press her luck.

Momo's large ears twitched and after giving a wide yawn, he went back to meticulously grooming himself.

Turning her attention back to Aang, she frowned heavily and winced.

"I think … I remember now. Jet brought me here. He said we were going to a fancy party in the Pasaang Quadrangle. I was kind of excited because I've never been in this part of the city before." She placed a hand on the side of her head as if it hurt. "There were a lot of people, and I …"

The woman looked around again. "Where is he? Do you know? Did he say anything to you? Please tell me that he just ran out to get milk tea and buns or something …"

Aang heard the anxiety in her voice and wished there was something he could say that could soothe it. In fact, he was concerned that his next words might cause her anxiety to kick into another gear.

"I'm really sorry, but I have no idea who 'Jet' is. I don't know anyone by that name."

She stared at him in open disbelief.

"What do you mean you don't know him? Jet. Jet Suo." She enunciated the name. "When I asked him whose party this was, he said it was a person he knew from work."

Aang shook his head slowly.

"There's no one called 'Jet' or with the last name 'Suo' at my company, and I would know… because I own it. I mean, I'm in business for myself and I know all my employees."

"Really?" She sounded very skeptical. "You know everyone who works for you?"

"It's not that hard," said Aang with a shrug. "There's only eight of us."

"So you're telling me that he lied. He lied about knowing you. That makes no sense."

She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. "If he lied, that means you are literally a complete stranger. He took me to the party of a complete stranger and just –"

Aang looked on in concern when she pressed her hand to her head again, looking as if she were in excruciating pain.

"Can I get you something? Aspirin maybe, or some tea? Something to eat? I was making myself some breakfast. I'd be happy to throw something together for you."

Aang looked at the eggs that were now congealing in the pan. Oh well, he didn't mind lukewarm eggs. Waste not, want not.

She still held onto the chair, blinking slowly like someone who'd been out in the sun too long.

"I-I can't believe this. He left me here? He left me here … in a stranger's house …" There was more bewilderment than anger in her voice. "He left me here!"

When she looked at Aang again, her eyes were like a confused young girl's.

"I checked my phone. No texts, no calls, and his phone is going straight to voicemail." She sounded utterly lost. "Why would he leave me here? With someone who doesn't even know him?"

"I don't know what to say. You're right. It doesn't make sense." Aang bit his lip. "If you don't mind me asking, have you known this guy very long?"

She hesitated a moment. "Long enough," she answered grimly.

"No offense, but if he'd lie about something as trivial as a party and then ditch you, he doesn't really sound like such a nice person to be around," said Aang. "Just being honest. He definitely doesn't seem like he's a really good friend."

The woman did a double-take, and then laughed.

Aang, watching her, shivered a little. There was no cheerfulness in the laughter or in her expression. Little pain lines wrinkled the corners of her brilliant eyes.

"Actually, you know what? You're right. He's not a good friend."

The woman paused for breath and then shook her head in bemusement. "He's my boyfriend."

Hello, hi. First story. This is going to be Kataang. I repeat, this is going to be Kataang, so any minor flirtations or anything like that are not going to stick. I have all but the epilogue finished so tune in on Fridays for updates. Later! And remember, if you see a racist, kick their ass. Do it for Aang. :D