Back Up Plans

Chapter 5: The Gentleman in Distress

"Don't be a baby," Katara whispers to herself as she stands nervously in the hallway. The hospital- usually her favorite place- bustles around her as she leans nervously against a wall. "You're just going to thank him. No need to be so nervous," she coaches herself. She glances down the hallway of private recovery rooms and tries to bolster her courage.

"Miss Katara," a surprised voice startles her. She turns around to discover none other than her mentor and the Chief of Surgery, Pakku Mare. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Chief Mare! Uh, I'm not scheduled. I was actually just discharged."

"Yes, I heard you were in an accident. Is everything okay?"

"I took a bit of a fall on my way home last night. But no permanent damage."

"Glad to hear it," he says sincerely. He glances at his watch and starts off again. "I'm off to a board meeting, but we'll have to coordinate your lab hours with your recovery time. Call me tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, sir!" she calls after him. When the imposing man is far enough away Katara slumps with relief against the wall. Of course she'd get interrupted by the Chief of Surgery. Maybe it was a sign that she shouldn't be here. "Enough," she whispers forcefully "It's now or never."

She limps with determination down the hallway until she reaches room one hundred and six. "Knock, knock," she raps lightly on the open door frame.

The man propped up in bed looks up from his laptop and smiles when he recognizes the girl in the doorway. "Well if it isn't trouble herself," he says amicably. "I don't know if I should invite you in."

"What if I told you I brought some good luck with me?" Katara replies and holds up a potted orchid she bought from the gift shop.

"Then I guess I have to," he says as he appreciates the sight. "I wouldn't want to risk turning down good luck or pretty women."

Katara giggles nervously as she approaches his bedside. The small table next to him is already occupied by the large bouquet of flowers, but she finds room for her small offering. Of course he'd have rich friends, she thinks. If he could afford this private room his friends could at the very least afford a large bouquet of elegant flowers.

"I guess someone beat me to the punch," she runs a hand through the velvet petals before suddenly gasping in surprise. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that."

He laughs in response. "Please don't worry about me, though that was an interesting choice of words."

Katara's cheeks flush darkly. "Sorry!" She repeats in embarrassment.

"Really, please don't worry about it," he repeats and indicates for her to sit in the chair next to his bed. She attempts to compose herself as she complies. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asks.

Grateful for his gracious manners she takes a quick reassuring breath before beginning. "I just wanted to make sure you were recovering well. And to thank you. I can't be sure, but I think you might have saved my life in that subway station."

"Anyone would have done the same," he assures her.

"I don't know if that's true," she says honestly, "but I just want you to know how grateful I am. I owe you an enormous favor."

He smiles as if he's familiar with the sentiment. "Well then I guess I'll have to remember that. Although, all I really did was manage to get my ass kicked. I didn't even get your bag back and now you bring me these flowers on top of it. I'd say I'm the one who owes you."

She laughs enchanted by his self-deprecating humor. "Maybe you're right," she agrees. "I did do most of the work."

The two of them laugh together until he winces. Katara hovers anxiously by his side until he's able to relax again.

"Should I call the nurse?"

"No, I'm okay," he reassures, but her hand remains hovering by the call button. The healer in her knows he could use some more painkillers, but she doesn't want to ignore his wishes either.

"What a pair we make," he remarks after a moment. "You limp in here with that cumbersome knee brace and I lay here like a convalescent old man because of something as silly as a fractured rib."

"And a dislocated shoulder," Katara adds seriously.

"And a dislocated shoulder," he repeats mocking her serious attitude. "Though that hardly counts. It's been dislocated so many times a strong wind could knock it out. Occupational hazard."

"So saving women in the subway is your occupation?"

"Something like that." His smile flickers slightly.

"Is that bouquet from one of your damsels in distress?" Katara eyes the elegant arrangement critically. The large bouquet reeks of female taste.

"Maybe," his head cocks to the side with an expression that borders on amusement. "Would it bother you if it was?"

Katara curses mentally when she answers a little too quickly. "What I mean is-that is to say- why should I be bothered?"

"You shouldn't be. They're from a business associate."

"Oh." Katara's relief is apparent in her smile. She reaches toward the small note card poking out among the petals. "Then maybe this card will help clarify the mysterious profession you keep hinting at."

"There's nothing inside," he assures. "Just a Noriko & King Consulting business card. Nothing special." Jet is suddenly tense despite his attempt to sound cool. She looks at him in surprise. He appears relaxed but she notices the distrust in his eyes and the way his knuckles whiten as he grips his laptop.

"Of course," she smiles quickly and withdraws her hand. But her smile doesn't seem to fit as well as it did a moment ago. After a beat of silence, she rises. "Well I should be going. You have the flower and my brother should be on his way to pick me up. I need to check in with him."

"Do it from my phone." Jet nods toward his sleek black phone on the table next to his bed. "Then we can keep talking after. I could even give you a ride." His smile seems genuine, but those lavish flowers remain in the corner of her vision: a reminder of distrust. He reads her expression and sighs. "I promise not to be weird again."

His acknowledgement diffuses the awkwardness and Katara can't resist smiling. "Alright fine," she says. "But my brother is probably close so he can still give me a ride." He types in a quick password before handing her the phone. She smiles gratefully before limping on a single crutch toward the door.

"I never caught your name," he calls after her.

Her dark hair flips across her shoulder as she turns to answer. "It's Katara."

"Nice to officially meet you. I'm Jet." He returns her smile. "See you when you get back."

"Well trained my ass..."

Zuko continues his curses as he ties burgundy scrubs around his waist. He looks in the mirror and tries not to notice how his scar is highlighted by their color. Shaking his head, he splashes water over his face and runs a hand through his mussed hair. Despite the dog pee and an important list of work, he knows tomorrow will end here. The thought leaves a hint of a smile in his expression.

"Zuko," his Uncle calls through the door of the single bathroom. "I'm going to return Cocoa and Trixie. I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Okay." Zuko slips his sockless feet into his freshly rinsed shoes. Grabbing his briefcase and bag full of soiled clothes he heads after his uncle. As he exits the bathroom a familiar young woman unexpectedly exits a recovery room to his left. She smiles at him before limping away. Without any real curiosity he glances into the room she appeared from. For the second time that day he is surprised by an unexpected sight.

He stands frozen in the doorway while his mind tries to make sense of the image before him. The man staring at him with dark, intelligent eyes is impossibly familiar. Someone who should be six feet under- not casually lying in bed.

After a long pause, the man speaks. "Long time no see, Zuko." Jet speaks to him as if it's been days instead of years since the pair has seen one another.

"You're alive?"