Title: Fighting for You
Pairings: ultimately Zutara
Rating: PG17/M
Warnings: Language, some violence, some citrus, modern AU
Summary: Katara is the Princess of the SWT, a branch of The Tribe, a waterbending mafia based out of the North Pole, establishing themselves in Ba Sing Se. Zuko the banished prince of The Nation, a firebending syndicate, is involved in the amateur fight scene of Ba Sing Se. Katara's financial interests turn physical as they raise up in ranks but glory has a price when Zuko's past comes back.
Ch 3:
Silly, stubborn man. Still saying no. Katara was starting to lose her patience. Sweeping her arm above her head with great flair she reached around her and felt the concentration of water in the heads in the small backroom of the merchant's shop. She tugged on them to make sure they were in her grasp making an overly dramatic display of her power to the man sitting meekly in the chair. He watched in horror as she clinched her fingers and, with a sickening crunch, one of the heads imploded in on itself. A nasty mess for someone else to clean once they were done here. Tears poured from his eyes, head shaking back and forth in disbelief that she could be so cruel.
"So?" she asked. He remained speechless aside from blubbering like a simpleton reaching out for her to stop, to save them, so she crushed a few more. It was only after the twentieth one that he cried out flying out of the chair to clutch at the remains littering the floor. "My cabbages! Please! Stop! I'll pay. I'll pay."
"Good man," Katara smiled then glanced down at the diamond encrusted watch on her wrist, "That took longer than I expected and I'm going to be late. It was lovely doing business with you." She nodded to her tall, well-built companion, "Bring the money to the office when you're done here." She left the poor man sniffling on hands and knees lifting the remains of his demolished cabbages. Katara hadn't destroyed all of them knowing he couldn't pay them if he had no product to sell.
Exiting the building, she slipped into the Lexus that waited for her and silently motioned for the driver to take her to her next appointment. Her body vibrated with her success like a good deal always did. She was needy and called the first person she could think of. No answer. She certainly hoped that he was at the gym like he said he would be and couldn't get to his phone, otherwise, well, she didn't want to think about that. Tucking away the greedy feeling for later, she scrolled through several emails and texts on her phone, only responding to those that were either urgent or interested her, finally dialing her brother. Answering on the third ring, she questioned how the arrangements for her new acquisition's first match were going. From the giddy way he proceeded to list off numbers and averages and a slew of other things that Katara had no interest in, she could tell it would be profitable indeed. If he won.
That is of course why she was headed to their new gym to get a first look at Zuko. An exclusive establishment with all the high tech equipment and trainers with extensive backgrounds in the field, it was the perfect place to properly condition him to this highly competitive sport. It was run by the reigning female fighting champion: Toph Bei Fong, a child of wealth who found freedom in the ring. She hadn't been happy about the taking on a new person especially with the rag tag group he brought with him, but between Sokka's charm and the promise of a good cut of the profits she agreed to train Zuko and his companions.
The drive there had been quicker than she thought and soon enough the driver was pulling up next to the entrance opening the glass door for her. Despite the stench of sweat, it was quite pleasant inside. It was certainly louder than she expected as weights being lifted and lowered clanked loudly onto the racks mixed with grunts of exertion, padded fists striking defenseless bags, shouts from trainers "encouraging" their trainees, and the slap of running shoes on treadmills or the whip of a jump rope.
Lifting her sunglasses onto her head, she found Jet and a petite woman dressed in baggy camouflage shorts and a tight green top, black hair cut pixie-style in the back by one of the three practice rings available. Katara could only assume this was the infamous Toph Bei Fong.
Making her way across the gym Katara ignored the unabashed stares of the men, elbowing Jet in the side to announce her presence then nodded her head to the ring and asked how Zuko was doing. Zuko and another man were in the training ring circling and testing and swatting until Zuko was pinned underneath, those strong legs of his kicking at the mat trying to gain leverage to get out. It was strangely erotic watching the two men grapple each other, especially since it seemed as though Zuko was not in his comfort zone being beneath the other man, panting and grunting in his failed attempts to get out from under. Understandable. She preferred being on top too. Her body must have still been needy because before she could stop them thoughts of Zuko writhing underneath her suddenly popped into her brain. Panting and grunting and sweaty, reaching for her, moaning her name. Whoa, girl! Katara caught her shiver and kicked herself for thinking that way. He was her property, nothing more. She glanced up to Jet and gave him that smile he knew all too well.
Jet started to say something but was interrupted by the other woman slapping the mat roughly then shouting as she ducked between the ropes to enter the ring, "Get up, you fucking pussy! Don't let him on you like that! You gotta…" Katara zoned out from Toph's rant admiring the way Zuko's sleeveless shirt emphasized his arms nicely, then when he started retying the strings of the shorts lifting up his shirt just so that she could see those tight abs and the fine trail of hair and the way they hung just so off his hips. Objectifying her new source of financial income was not the smartest idea but damn if he wasn't hot when it came right down to it.
She had to blink back the dirty thoughts that flooded her brain when Jet leaned down to her ear. "That Toph chick is pretty hardcore." This was painfully obvious with the barrage of verbal abuse she unleashed on Zuko who simply argued back until there seemed to be a stalemate. Still fuming Toph turned her wrath on Jet. "I don't know what the hell kind of shit training program you did with this boy but it was worthless! He needs more ground work. Did you forget to train him in that or where you too busy blowing each other?" After berating Jet for a moment, she noticed finally Katara. "Who the hell are you?"
Holding out her hand Katara introduced herself with her trademark smile. Toph merely grunted at the pretty manicured hand, turning back to the two men in the ring. "Again!" Katara bristled at the brush-off but let it slide until she was told to leave.
"Why?" Katara demanded impatiently.
"Because, Sweetness, it's hard to properly train when they're all mentally fucking you." Toph snorted nodding her head towards the dozens of eyes that zeroed in on the tight blue cashmere sweater, cream colored pencil skirt, and heels that highlighted and enhanced every bit of her ample physique.
Jet laughed, agreeing with Ms. Bei Fong, and lead Katara to the office where they could talk without prying eyes. Sitting on the edge of the desk Katara leaned enticingly back passing on the information from Sokka about Zuko's first event then questioned Jet about if he would be ready. He simply shrugged, uncrossing her legs so he could stand between them grabbing her ass to pull her close. "He'll be ready. It's a lot of work but my man is a fighter. That's why he's done so well."
Katara wiggled against his body, fingers unzipping his jeans and dipping inside, her energy from earlier returning with a vengeance. "But this isn't the amateurs anymore. This is for real. If I lose money on h- oh!" His lips found the little spot under her ear that always made her knees weak.
"You worry too much," Jet sighed against her ear, bunching up the front of her skirt to get to his favorite place, already sliding the silk panties to the side.
Legs wrapped around his lean hips, heels digging into the small of his back pulling him in as he rocked upward. "(Ah!) I worry because you don't. (Oh gods! Oh!)"
"Hey, I worry. (holy shit, you're so wet) Zuko's a good guy and he'll be ready. Trust me."
"(Right there. Right there. Right there! Ah!) He better be. (Fuuuck!) What does Toph say about him?"
"His basics are fine, (mnuh) you heard her about the ground work, (oh shit!) but that'll come (oh, baby, you feel so good) in time. He's got (ugh) ten more weeks, right?" The thought of the ground work reminded Katara of her earlier thoughts of that golden-eyed man sending her to the brink.
"Yeah (uh!), that what Sokka said. (Harder. Give it. Yesss!)"
Everything stopped as her body shuttered, eyes shut tight envisioning that it was gold eyes rather than brown watching her peak, and he pulsed hot and hard inside her hanging onto each other to keep from falling backwards onto the top of the desk. Ah! That was exactly what she needed. She slipped out from under him nearly sending him headfirst into the desk to readjust her clothing while he wrapped the condom in a tissue depositing in the trash can. Jet leaned against the desk, reversing their positions from earlier with that smug post-coital expression that annoyed the hell of Katara. You'd think he just cured cancer.
Wiggling back into the shoe that fell off, Katara glanced down at her watch. "Keep me updated on his progress. You'll be here all day, right? I'll have Sokka stop by later with some paperwork he needs Zuko to fill out." She left without a kiss or further words leaving a slightly dejected Jet in her wake. She had more important things to do that stroke his ego.
OooOooO
The next ten weeks were brutal. The three hours under Jet's tutelage had been escalated to nearly twelve hours a day six days a week. Tons of cardio for endurance, ground work to desperately improve his mat skills, weight training for strength, even yoga for flexibility and appointments with a massage therapist for good measure. As the day of the fight loomed overhead, Toph worked him harder and harder so that he "wouldn't make her look bad." It felt like the only time he got to see his Liang was on Sundays, his one day off each week, and he was so drained that he felt that his presence didn't make much difference to her.
"Its okay, Daddy," she claimed, her toothy smile trying hard to prove to him she wasn't lying. "I understand."
Zuko opened his arms in invitation to which she gladly took snuggling into him. "I'm sorry I'm not home as much anymore. It's just… this is going to give us a better life. I promise you."
Liang beamed. "I know. Miss Katara said that too." Zuko stiffened. When had she spoken to his daughter? Seeing his confusion, she answered, "She picked me up from school a couple weeks ago. Then took me shopping. She said my coat had a hole in it which I don't think it did but then I looked and there was and then she said why we're here we might as well get some pants and skirts and shoes. It was like one of those shopping sprees on TV! She's really nice, Daddy. She didn't haf'ta do that but she did." Zuko hadn't even noticed the new outfit she was wearing or the new dolls she played with. He'd been so focused on training that he failed to notice that. What kind of father was he?
"Liang, I don't want you to hang out with her," even he heard the weariness in his voice.
"But she's nice. And I really like her." Her lowered lip wibbled just slightly.
"I know, but she…" He didn't know where to begin. Part of him still remembered her mother and the fear of Liang being left behind was more than he could take. There had been a couple others who had done the same thing, appealed by his single fatherhood then reality set in and it got too much for them. Sure, Katara was just his manager of sorts but would Liang be able to recognize that she wasn't their friend. He couldn't say Katara was bad because she wasn't, as far as he knew. The other part of him was stuck on that she was from a life that he had once lived and he'd be damned if his daughter was exposed to that life. It was one thing for him to use Katara to get them out of the Lower Ring and for her to use him right back but it was quite another for her to use his family to get her clutches deeper into him. That's exactly what they would have done. It was a fine line between all of it and if he could save Liang from all of the heartache he would. Finally he settled on, "She is a nice person, but I think it would be better for you not to hang out with her."
"Why?"
"Because," he bit his lip then used the old standby required by the law of parenting, "I'm your dad and I say so."
"Fine." That frown always broke his heart but he had to be firm on this. "Now how about we go see that new cartoon princess movie that's out. A Daddy-daughter date. We haven't done that in a long time. Then maybe ice cream after?"" The distraction worked wonders because her frown turned to jumping up and down in a fraction of a second flat.
Once Liang had been put to bed after a nice day together with her, he dialed her number, tapping against the kitchen counter impatiently. She barely has a moment to say hello before he started in. "My daughter tells me that you've been picking her up from school, taking her shopping, movies. Why?"
He heard her snort into the receiver, "Zuko, it's not a big deal. She needed some stuff and I happily provided it to her. I know that you've been in training so much that you haven't been able to see to her needs-"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he paced the small kitchen. "Don't pull that on me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own kid! I've been doing it for the past seven years for Agni's sake. By myself."
He heard her bristle and could practically hear her seething. "Is it because of who I am? Are you too good, Prince Zuko, that your own daughter can't be seen with me?" The accusation resonated in his ears.
"That's not what I'm saying."
"You think that you're better than me because of where you come from? That The Nation is so much better?"
"…I-"
"Hmph! You're a nobody here and you should be thanking me for giving you this chance."
"Will you shut up for a minute?" he demanded losing his patience, hearing her gasp into the phone, obviously unused to being stood up to. "I appreciate everything, believe me," he sighed heavily, the confession slipping from his lips, "I've gotten so used to doing everything on my own and it's been hard to accept the help. Okay?"
She was silent for a moment then sighed, "Well okay then. I just thought I would help. She's a good girl and I know that you've been living… modestly. It was simply easier to take her myself. Your uncle isn't necessarily the ideal candidate for shopping for a seven year old girl after all."
"No. He really isn't," Zuko agreed, voice softening. "Just next time, let me know. She's mine and I need to make sure she's okay."
Katara laughed gently, "I'm sorry. I should have let you know. I'll keep you in the loop next time. Which I suppose I should let you know that tomorrow I'm taking her to the zoo. They have a new otter-penguin exhibit and that's her favorite."
He didn't know whether to be scared that she knew that about his daughter or be appreciative. All of this was too weird. Staring up at the ceiling as he tried to let sleep take him away he wondered again what the hell he was getting into.
OooOooOooO
The atmosphere was different. More amped. The crowd rowdier. The bass of the music deeper, more primal. The smell even seemed more pungent. Smellerbee rubbed his muscles, Jet chattered, Toph argued. None of it registered. He was too focused.
The fighter seemed large despite the fact they are in the same weight class. He grinned over at Zuko from across the mat. Zuko bounces on his toes. He's ready. The bell sounds. The two men circle, tentative jabs testing the waters so to speak. Then the first blow strikes across his jaw rattling his teeth through the mouth guard. Zuko suddenly missed the protection the head gear from his amateur days had provided. He chides himself for not paying closer attention. Back and forth the two opponents swap strikes of fist and foot. Scoring was even for the first round, both men matching strike to strike. Then the other man swarms, having found Zuko's weakness, and Zuko hits the mat with a loud thud. He's on top of him striking his face, kneeing his ribs, and Zuko growls putting up his gloves to protect his face. Fuck this! Get up! Get up! With all his energy, Zuko spins out from underneath. Now the man that was on top is on bottom. A flurry of gloved fists land. Zuko feels the crack of the man's nose as blood spews out. His mind empties, only vaguely feeling the referee pulling him off the poor bastard beneath him. The doctor comes out to tend to man's wounds while Smellerbee checks him too. Zuko can only stare at the man finally rising from the mat looking as though he's ready to finish Zuko off.
The rest of the round was hard, the next one even more so. By the fifth round Zuko feels his energy draining but doesn't feel half as tired as the other man looks. Timing it perfectly when fists dropped after a sloppy left hook combo, Zuko lands on the man's nose again knocking him backward where he flops to the ground. Zuko waits for the count ready to strike again if he has to. 1, 2, 3, 4,…, 10! "Winner!" they shout as his arm is raised triumphantly. The crowd isn't as loud in their cheers only because he's still relatively unknown to them. Still though it thrums through him, a powerful aphrodisiac to this sport he loved.
Glancing across Smellerbee's shoulder into the crowd, there Katara sits. That same possessive expression, smiling at him and giving a wink. He nods his head back at her.
They'd done it. One down, eleven more to go.
OooOooOooO
Sokka popped the cork on the champagne everyone shouting out their congratulations to the winner. The club was practically taken over, between the Tribe siblings, Zuko, Jet and his crew, Toph who had brought her boyfriend Aang, a happy-go-lucky young man with a shaved head and a score of tattoos up and down his sinewy build who was a champion in the featherweight division, fans of the fighters, flashy women trying to catch the fighters' and their companions eyes. They were all caught up in the excitement of yet another win bringing Zuko's record to an impressive four wins, zero losses, and one tie. The press was already singing his praises and with the payouts getting higher, The Tribe gladly approved of their new investment, throwing more money his way via Katara who naturally skimmed off her share.
"To Zuko!" they shouted glasses lifted then thrown back. There were hugs and kisses all around, more drinks consumed, laughter and good spirited shouts and jabs thrown around as well. Katara approached Zuko wrapping her arms around his neck without even spilling her drink.
"You've done very well. I'm impressed." Her voice was barely audible between the crowd and the music. He leaned in to hear her better when she repeated herself. Lips to her ear he shouted a thanks. "I appreciate it. Really though I need to get home."
Katara frowned slightly, grabbing his arm, enjoying the firmness in her grasp then smiling brightly up at him knowing full well he was thinking of his daughter at home. "She'll be fine, Zuko." His eyes asked if she was sure and she nodded again. "Enjoy yourself. Have fun." The two chatted as best they could, mingling with the others as they made their rounds from grouping to grouping then found her private booth where they enjoyed another round of drinks. Despite it being difficult to hear him, she was enjoying his company. Most men were either scared of her was or kissed her ass because of who she was, who her family was. With Zuko however, there seemed to be none of that and that was a rare treasure. She kept pointing out various women that Zuko should try to get to which he would laugh and say things like "too short", "too skinny", "her hair is weird".
"You don't want to get laid?" Katara teased causing Zuko to blush and smile. "I'm a guy. Of course I want to get laid. I'm just… picky."
She tilted her head to get a good look at him catching his eyes. "How is it you're friends with someone like Jet?"
"Hell if I know," he laughed, taking a long drink from the beer bottle. "How is it you're sleeping with someone like him?"
"Hell if I know," she repeated, lifting her glass to tap against Zuko's. "It's one of his few redeeming qualities I suppose."
"Speaking of." Zuko nodded to the other side of the room. Jet, tall and handsome and ever so charming as always, was in the middle of the small crowd laughing and going on. He glanced up to see the pair looking at him and he lifted his drink in acknowledgement. "He's always been like that," Zuko said wistfully, picking at the label on the bottle. "Everyone loves him."
Once she felt the loneliness of Zuko's comment, Katara's heart sunk a little for him. She couldn't have her main man low like this so she knocked back the rest of her drink. "Dance with me," she ordered sliding out of the booth. "I love to dance and this beat is driving me crazy."
Katara noticed the hesitation when Zuko rose from the seat but the grip on his tie didn't give him any opportunity to back out of her request. Shimmying her hips in time to the beat she led him to the dance floor. The crowd was packed tight forcing him to be so close to her. The darkness of the floor only interrupted by the rainbow of the flashing lights. Her body pulsed to the heavy bass, her eyes half-lidded as if in the throes of passion yet daring him to touch her. His hands had no choice but to follow the curve of her waist, the small of her back. Zuko moved with her lost in the rhythm of the electronic music. His body felt so comfortingly hot next to hers, he smelled delicious a blend of cologne and his natural scent. Visions of him in the ring, bare-chested (and what a nice chest he had!) and the weeks of watching him train with such precise dedication and power that it could make any woman swoon like a school girl and La knows how many women did. Much to her surprise she had become intoxicated by him. Ducking her head to hide her smile, she licked her lips lost in this feeling. When she glanced up she met his gaze (was that desire she detected?), pressing closer to him somehow managing to lose themselves in each other.
"Hey that's my girl, asshole," they heard Jet laugh in that teasing way that only he could, pulling Katara from Zuko's grasp, wrapping his long arms possessively around her managing to smile at his friend while simultaneously telling him to back off.
She could see Zuko debate fighting for her in the end tucking tail and finding one of those girls who had been eyeballing him all night, whispering in her ear and leading her out of the club. A spark of jealousy that shouldn't have been there was. So much for being picky, she thought coarsely.
Am I going too fast? I feel like I'm getting ahead of myself. y/n?
