Back Up Plans

Chapter 11: The Contrast

Once again, Zuko's morning has an early start. His pre-work destination today is the precinct where he'd requested the police report. After work yesterday, he'd poured over the pages of research he had on Jet only to find nothing new. Jet was the orphan of a couple murdered by the Red Nation- a violent group that has become commonplace in New York culture. Jet grew up and never made the news again until his early death in a car accident. Zuko held the two newspaper clippings in his hand and then placed them far apart on his desk. His pale hand rests in the space between them. Is he the only one in the world who knows that a life happened between these two events? Jet had lived another dozen years where he met people and made them laugh and got them into trouble but then helped them get out of trouble. Then everything got twisted and Zuko needs to know why. There are several notes pinned onto Zuko's wall about these events.

Zuko's cousin, LuTen, seemed equally irrelevant to Ozai and his mysterious comments from yesterday. LuTen was the only son of former CEO of Noriko and King Consulting- Zuko's Uncle Iroh. In LuTen's history were a couple of private school expulsions: one for too many days missed from skipping school and another for underage drinking on campus. Then, inexplicably, his record became pristine. He graduated with honors from a military school was accepted to several prestigious universities but turned them all down. He spent a year working for his father until his early death in a car accident. With it came Iroh's retirement and Ozai's sudden promotion.

Zuko's notes on LuTen were pinned up with Jet's. He had stared at the information and could see that some events from their lives were suspiciously connected. But none of it explained Jet's resurrection, LuTen's death, Ozai's connection to it all or Zuko's for that matter. In the early hours of the morning Zuko stared at his mural of information. His hair was tousled from his hands repeatedly running through it and his eyes ached from working for too long. Eventually he'd gone to bed feeling frustrated and needing more information.

This morning he's in his Uncle's car again. He's had it for two days and knows that he's kept it longer than is polite. Once he has the police report he take everything to Iroh and get him to fill in the gaps. As his vehicle turns down a busy road, his phone buzzes in the cup holder. An unknown number lights up the screen. Curious, he accepts the call.

"Hello?"

"…Hi Zuko." The voice is distinctly female and Zuko is increasingly curious. Mentally, he scrolls through the list of women he knows and wonders who would call him this early. When the line remains quiet he takes it as his turn to speak.

"Who am I talking to?"

"Oh! Sorry. This is Katara. From the other night at the hospital."

Zuko sits up straighter in his driver's seat while his hands grip the wheel and phone a little tighter. Katara hadn't been on his list of acquaintances, and now he's practically swimming in curiosity. "I remember," he says quickly. "How are you, Katara?" If she was calling it couldn't mean good news. Glancing in his rearview mirror briefly he shifts lanes, but a car honks loudly as it swerves out of the way. He swears at the blind spot in his line of sight and tries to stay focused on the road. However, it's a losing battle because the voice on the phone is commanding his attention.

"I'm okay," she responds.

"Good. Good…" The line goes quiet again after Zuko's stupid response. He grips the phone a little tighter and curses silently. Conversations is person are hard enough. At least then you can read a person's expression and body language. Phone calls left you blind. He fishes for something to keep the conversation going. "So you ended up using my card after all."

She giggles quietly and he pictures her dark, slender fingers playing with the personal card he'd given her on an impulse. After remembering why he did, he's suddenly worried. "Is everything okay? Is Jet there?"

"No. He's not here," she quickly reassures him.

"Oh."

"But there's so much more to him than we though, Zuko." Zuko takes a right turn without looking. His attention is focused on the voice in his ear and his subconscious is taking him to his destination. Katara continues speaking but her voice has become agitated. "God, now that I'm saying it out loud I don't know that I should even be telling you."

Zuko's knuckles grow white on the steering wheel. Katara isn't a superficial airhead like most other women. Her call means that something has happened that Zuko needs to know about. "You can tell me," he insists.

"I know. I didn't know who else to call," she admits. Zuko is pleased by her response. He is the person she trusts with her secrets and the first person she turned to. His stomach flutters in excitement but he attributes that to the topic: Jet. His car is next to a curb now and he switches it into park. Glancing out the passenger widow, he recognizes the apartment complex. He wonders how he ended up here instead of the police station. The phone gets switch to his good ear as he speaks cautiously. "Don't be weirded out, but I'm in front of your apartment."

Unexpectedly, the young woman laughs heartily. Her voice is full of humor when she responds. "Trust me, Zuko. It takes a lot more to freak me out these days."

Zuko feels his cheeks pull into a small smile as he thinks of his own encounter with her. This one is certainly starting off a lot friendlier than their last. "I guess so," he agrees.

"Listen, my leg is still a total mess so stairs are kind of hard for me right now." Zuko's scowl quickly returns as he senses the direction of her thoughts. She doesn't want to come downstairs. She doesn't want to talk to him.

"I understand," he says with little sincerity.

"Can you just come up to my apartment?"

Zuko's head snaps up so fast he winces. Phone conversations are seriously impossible to navigate, he thinks once again. The keys are already out of the ignition as he speaks. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Remind me which apartment you're in."

There's a hard knock on the door and Katara quickly limps over to answer it. She throws open the door and sees Zuko filling up most of the space. He shifts his bag on his shoulder and waves awkwardly. "Hey. Zuko here."

The coil of tension in her relaxes at the sight of him. She'd been right to call him. "You look nice," she comments and then giggles at herself. "But now I feel a little underdressed." Zuko looks different from the last time she saw him. That night in the car Katara felt like she'd been talking to another med student. Today, he stands in her doorway dressed in a business suit, hair carefully finished and looking every bit the executive.

Zuko rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. He didn't care about appearances, and preferred not to mention them. It inevitably drew attention to his scar. "You look great," he mumbles a compliment in response. He briefly notes the pleasant way her shorts and tank top flatter her athletic figure. It was definitely a contrast to his own formal presentation, but it suited her.

Katara prays that the warmth in her face is not a blush. "Come in," she commands and uses her crutch to scoot out of the way.

"Thanks." Zuko walks into her apartment and finds himself looking around. It's bigger than he'd expected. The outside of the building was deceptively shabby. The comfortable apartment was up-to-date, and its floor plan was basically a large open room divided by furniture into sections. Directly across the living area was a short hallway with a pair of doors. Bedrooms he decides.

"Make yourself at home," Katara suggests as she closes the door. Zuko removes his scarf and outercoat. Katara offers to take them, but he eyes the crutch under her arm.

"You've got enough to take care of," he states matter of fact. Katara's brows flicker and Zuko can sense her independent nature protest. Good manners win out because she shrugs instead of fighting him.

"Can I get you tea or water?" She offers.

Zuko glances at her kitchen. He can see plenty of food organized onto shelves so he decides that she's probably not starving. "If you tell me where cups and tea bags are I'll make us a couple cups," he replies.

"I'm perfectly capable-" Katara objects this time, but Zuko has already travelled the few feet to her kitchen. He sets his belongings over the back of a chair and looks at her expectantly, almost imperiously. His hands are on his hips and he looks uncompromising.

"Fine," she says rolling her eyes. "Cups are there and tea bags are in that cupboard." She points to the respective storage spots and settles into a chair at the kitchen table. Zuko's suitcoat is now off and his sleeves rolled up as he casually prepares water in the teapot on the stove.

"I'm sorry I called you so early," Katara says while she observes the unusual figure in her kitchen move about.

"I was on my way to work so it wasn't a big deal," Zuko explains. "You called, and then before I knew it I was parked in front of this place."

Katara smiles but isn't exactly sure why. "I hope this doesn't make you late."

Zuko shrugs. "Even if it does, it will be worth it." Katara nods, but Zuko isn't sure if he understands the exact meaning of what he said. He shakes off the unsettling feeling and checks his tea supplies. Just waiting on the water. He glances at Katara and isn't sure whether he should join her or stay leaning against the counter. As if reading his thoughts, she pulls the chair next to her away from the table and smiles. He returns it, grateful for her cue.

While Zuko settles into the mismatched chair, Katara notices his rigid posture and the way the air around him smells like fabric softener and hair gel. There's a hint of something else but she's forced away from thoughts of his pleasant aroma.

"There's a lot more happening with Jet," Katara wastes no time with small talk. Zuko's posture seems to intensify and Katara feels hyperaware of the inch of air between their knees. Everything that had transpired in the last hour runs through her mind. "Where do I start?" she wonders aloud.

"What happened after I dropped you off here the other night?" Zuko prompts.

"Um, well Jet showed up at my door the next morning."

Katara notices Zuko's fingers dig into his knee caps as she describes the event. "He'd found my backpack and I had his phone so we were able to trade them. Then he invited me to dinner." She knows she is definitely blushing this time. Like in her conversation with Bato, she is embarrassed by the statement. "But I wasn't sure!" she quickly clarifies. "So he said he'd call me; which is weird because not only did I not give him my address, I definitely didn't give him my number either. It was all explained this morning when I met with a detective at the precinct. I just got back actually."

Zuko nods seeming to accept the information she's shared so far. His tension hasn't eased at all and Katara wonders what is going through his mind. He remains a faithful listener as she continues. "He's a criminal, Zuko. A gang member," her voice suddenly wobbles and Zuko panics when her eyes glisten with tears. If she cries he has no idea what he's supposed to do. Please don't he pleads silently. "I'm sorry," she says after a short pause. "I didn't know I would get emotional. You're the first person I've told since I found out and it's finally sinking in. I'm going to dinner with a monster and the police are counting on me to get what they need." Her expression continues to teeter on the edge of emotion and Zuko leans forward in anticipation of her needs.

"Katara-" The teapot screams on the stove and the pair jumps at the startling noise. Zuko quickly removes the pot from the stove, and it quiets down after a second. He's tempted to throw the stupid contraption against the wall. He glances back at Katara and the second their eyes meet she starts laughing. The tension had become so strong a moment ago that seeing Zuko launch out of his seat unraveled her taught emotions. Katara holds her sore ribs as she giggles while Zuko leans with his hands against the edge of the counter and releases a more controlled laugh.

A moment later they've settled down and Zuko makes quick work of the tea. He sets down a glass next to each of them as he returns to the table. "Thanks," Katara says sincerely.

She holds the warm cup in her hand and plays with the string hanging over the side. After her first sip she grimaces. "This one of a kind," she comments in an attempt to hide her disgust.

Zuko rolls his eyes. "Don't you put sugar or honey in?"

"I though you put them in," she mumbles feeling stupid. Zuko sips his own tea as he waits for her to doctor her drink.

"How about," Zuko begins, "for every bad thing you tell me about Jet, I tell you one good thing about him?" Zuko is surprised by the words coming out of his mouth.

Katara looks at him with equal shock. "I didn't know there was anything good about him."

Zuko shrugs in response. "He used to be my best friend." Katara's piercing blue eyes focus on him as she absorbs his words. He grows uncomfortable under her scrutiny and wonders if he suddenly seems like the villain too. He notices her gaze drift to his scar and resists the urge to shift his face away.

"Okay," she agrees. They begin exchanging stories and the balance seems to help them both. Katara's are facts shared with poorly concealed horror. Zuko's are short memories that he didn't know still existed until they were out of his mouth. He feels the old ache of his past grow with every story, but it's compounded with the betrayal of every fact Katara shares. Eventually their tea is cold, and Zuko is slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. A cool hand finds its way onto his arm and stays there. Zuko raises his head and finds Katara's eyes mere inches away.

"I'm so sorry, Zuko," she says with utmost sincerity. "I'm so sorry your best friend is not the person you thought he was." Her hand gives his arm a gentle squeeze before sliding away. He feels his skin tingle where her skin had touched his.

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "I still don't understand why." His sister's words still haunt him. Not who. Not how long. Ask why. After years of being in complete ignorance to everything, information was suddenly flooding in. None of it was helping him come closer to that one vital answer. Katara's expression is still full of sympathy which does not ease Zuko's tension. "I need to tell you about my family," he says. But before he can add his own information to hers, his phone rings for the second time that morning. He pulls it out of his breast pocket and sees 'President King' light up on the screen. Not good.

"Sorry," he mutters to Katara. He pulls the phone to his ear as he quickly crosses the room.

"Where the hell are you?" Sokka's voice has no trace of its usual humor but Zuko is relieved nonetheless.

"I'm-" and suddenly Zuko realizes he is at Sokka's little sister's apartment. He is spared the awkwardness of answering when Sokka continues to quietly lecture him.

"I'm in the president's office stalling for you so that neither one of us gets our butt chewed out for you being forty-five minutes late to work! Did you forget it's our weekend on shift? Shit, he's coming back-"

The line goes dead and Zuko stares at his phone. Sokka's loyalty is obviously self-motivated, but Zuko is oddly touched that someone would help him without being asked- or paid- to.

"Is everything okay?" Katara has limped over to Zuko and looks up at him with concern.

"I have to go," he says and wishes that life didn't always have such terrible timing.

"Okay," she says. Did she sound disappointed?

"When are you seeing Jet?"

"Tonight at six."

Zuko can't hide the surprise on his face and she blushes in embarrassment. "He suggested it and the police said they could get a team together by then." He'd have to find a way to leave work early so he could fill her in on what he knew about Jet and his family. There were definitely connections, and she needed to know as much as she could. She'd be going into the lion's den.

"There's more I need to tell you. Can I call you before your dinner tonight?"

Katara smiles as she nods. Zuko asks for permission. Again, she notes how perfectly calm she feels around him. Maybe calm was the wrong word. Her emotions are more complicated than that, but she does feel safe.

Zuko quickly collects his things and heads for the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob. "It's going to be okay," he states fiercely. "I'm going to make sure it is."

Katara walks to him, noting the fresh scents around him again, and returns his intense gaze. "Thank you. I need to hear that."

Their eyes linger on each other for another moment until suddenly Zuko's warm presence is gone. Katara's apartment is empty again and she feels so alone.

Zuko sprints up the stairs to the third floor and peeks through the large glass panel wall of the company's main entrance. He can see the receptionist at her desk but no one else. He takes a second to catch his breath and shift his belongings into a more comfortable spot. If it comes to it he can chuck his stuff under the closest desk and pretend he's been here all morning. He hastily enters the lobby but no sooner is the door shut behind him than an unexpected voice chimes in.

"Well if it isn't Zuko King, himself. How is the little prince these days?"

If Zuko thought he'd been tense during his conversation with Katara, it was nothing compared to the instant rigidness aroused by this low, guttural voice. Zuko is grateful his hands are shoved into his coat so that Zhao doesn't see the way his fists shake as they clench. Turning his head slightly he recognizes the District Attorney relaxing in the lounge just beside the reception area. He's reclined in a large chair at the head of a table and looking like a marble statue. When Zuko makes no effort to draw closer Zhao rises and makes his way over. With his jacket buttoned he looks more like a rich stock broker or politician than public servant. Every step he takes sets Zuko's temper hotter and hotter.

"Zhao."

Zhao notes Zuko's contempt and feigns offense."Is that any way to address a potential employer?"

Zuko does not recoil as Zhao steps closer than is comfortable. The man is clearly not afraid of Zuko either. "I don't know if I'd like working with community college attorneys in the public sector," Zuko comments. "A private firm seems like a better fit."

"Looks like you still haven't learned to be grateful for to your superiors-"

"I'll show you superior-"

"Alright boys, put the measuring stick away." Ozai joins them in the lobby adding to Zuko's tension. He wonders why he has been having surprise reunions with all of his least favorite people this week. Zhao steps away from Zuko and greets the new arrival.

"Ozai, it's a pleasure to see you." The men shake hands, but Ozai's gaze remains on his son. His eyes rest pointedly on Zuko's jacket and bag.

"Just getting in Zuko?" He's not just caught. He's trapped.

"I..." What is there to say? I was going to the police station to continue my investigation into your shady business transactions. I visited a girl who helped me discover that my best friend is alive and the leader of a gang. Go ahead and take your pick Ozai. Ozai's eyes narrow as Zuko stands their mute.

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to wait for you to form an intelligent response. District Attorney Zhao and I have a meeting." Zhao smirks as if he thinks Zuko should be jealous. "When we get back perhaps you can find time to share that presentation with us?"

The floor seems to fall out from under Zuko and his stomach twists in panic. The presentation on the Pheonix Project. He'd forgotten all about it but is quickly grateful when he remembers that the file is sitting in his desk. "Of course," he says sounding infinitely more confident than he feels. "So it will be to you both?"

"And the executive board," Ozai says pleasantly as if he was sharing the weather.

"The executive board," Zuko repeats slowly.

"Will that be a problem?" Zhao asks not bothering to pretend any innocence.

Zuko hoists his bag up more securely and squares his shoulders. Looking into the golden eyes staring down at him, he speaks calmly. "It will be my honor to present to you."

A charged silence follows his comment, but Ozai has no desire to waste time. He motions toward the door and Zhao heads toward it. "We'll see you in a few hours," Zhao promises.

"Don't disappoint me, Zuko." Ozai follows his colleague and the doors click shut. How many times had Zuko heard his father say those exact words to him? His rigid muscles beg for release and he gives it to them. With an angry shout he turns to nearest table and flips it over as hard as he can. The receptionist screams in terror but Zuko has no sympathy for her. Chest heaving, he walks down the hallway to his desk. He has a few hours at best to pull together this presentation. Everything else- his police report and Katara- will have to wait.

You lucky readers! Two updates in one week!

Here's that other chapter I promised. I'm glad I withheld it because there was so much to add to it! I will probably reread this tomorrow or Tuesday and notice all my typos and holes in the story- but I promise I will tweak the writing as necessary haha. Until then I am going to bed.

Titi- If Jet had so much connections, didn't he know that Katara was the Chief of the police 's daughter ? Couldn't be very dangerous for her?
An interesting observation. Who says that Jet doesn't know who she is? I'm not going to spoil anything but if I'm trying to keep these AU characters similar to the originals, I would say they have some of the same weaknesses. Say, overconfidence?

Guest- Bring on Zutara! Suspense is killing me to see what happens at this dinner between jet and Katara
Well at least here's some Zutaraness. Keep holding on. You'll see what happens at dinner and then some! Stay tuned for more Zutara!

Much love! Peace and blessings!