A/N: Sigh. When I've done "romance" before, it's always been definitely tongue-in-cheek. Now I'm attempting something a wee bit more, I don't know, serious (does anyone think the 007 movies are serious, but that's the kind of thing I'm talking about). I mean, I'm still laughing as I write, but I'm attempting to make it not too far out of the realm of possibility as far the avatarverse and characters are concerned. Still, the whole "capture fic" premise is absurd on its face. Is it even possible to make it work at all?

Seriously, folks, if you're expecting stuff like I've posted in "Prison Conversations" and "Passages", you'll find this sadly degenerate. This is my "shits and giggles" fic. I refuse to be held responsible for what I produce under the influence of, um, wholly legal substances given my age and willingness to not get behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 3:

He was back in his windowless cell and, thankfully, alone again. For some wholly unfathomable reason, the fire-bender guard who had seen him back from the odd interview with the princess had decided to heat up the water in the large basin from his interrupted bath. Since the water had started out stream-cold he didn't get the point, but he found the hot water soothing and welcome after his face-down with the Dangerous Ladies, and he made a mental note to exempt that particular fire-bender from the worst of his brooding plans of retribution. That is, if he could single the guy out from the faceless, helmeted mass of soldiers that had confronted him since his awakening.

He thought about it, and decided that while keeping your enemies faceless was probably a good strategy from one perspective, it was lousy from another. Anonymous enemies were admittedly more frightening, and struck a particular chord of horror in opponents. Why else did his own people don warrior's paint? On the other hand, how easy was it to cut down an enemy who wore a face that could be confused with that of a cousin, an uncle, a brother? It was a two-edged sword. Perhaps the final decision rested on what vantage you were trying to further; that of more carnage or final peace. He wished, not for the first time, that he could share these reflections with his father.

On the other hand, if that meant having his father share his cell, well, never mind. Some company is better kept alone.

He unconsciously shivered. The water had been heated, yes, but the towel was inadequate even by Water Tribe standards, and he still had no shirt to replace that confiscated by the other guard.

Damn the princess, anyway. It had finally occurred to her that the lack of any rescue attempt had nothing to do with Aang's disregard for Sokka and everything to do with bewilderment as to his whereabouts. With earthbending, it wouldn't have taken long to ascertain that his body wasn't among those caught in the rubble. Aang's friends were all too prominent to have gotten lost in the various infirmaries set up for the wounded. At least, they were prominent among the Earth Kingdom. But could the same be said of them among the bulk of the Fire Nation? Sure, Aang's face and figure was common knowledge, but how many in the Fire Nation would actually recognize any of the others? There were, after all, so many refugees from all the peoples displaced by the war. Prince Zuko and his uncle of course would recognize them, and probably the princess and her own companions could pick them out of a crowd. But surely their faces were unknown to the vast majority of the Fire Nation.

So it was quite possible that Sokka was an anonymous prisoner of the Fire Nation. They had worked this out beforehand, and agreed that under no case would specific inquiries be made if any of them went missing after a battle – the best hope for survival lay in keeping that anonymity. Of course, it was also possible that he had died in such anonymous captivity.

But Princess Azula had figured this all out as well. She wanted to draw attention to his plight. Perhaps she would even attempt to offer a trade, as Aang had done so long ago. So, she would send some token of his back to Ba Sing Se. Something unmistakable.

They didn't have his boomerang, then. He'd been around the world enough to learn how unique a weapon it was his father had gifted him, and credited Azula and her allies with similar recognition. So it must have made it back without him. He didn't recall having carried anything else particularly unusual into the fray, or even anything that spoke specifically of the Water Tribe. No wonder they wanted his shirt.

Well, much joy may it give them. Katara was smart. Even if she recognized it as his, she'd know it could have been pulled off a corpse, and she'd hold the line. And if she didn't, he'd find a way to kick her butt, no matter how great a water-bender she was!

He'd finished his bath, but he hardly felt any cleaner for his efforts. In fact, he felt distinctly soiled, both by the encounter with the princess and his unpleasant thoughts. Well, he supposed thinking was the least sordid thing he'd be forced into by the war before it ended. Then again, he'd have liked to keep his thoughts at least somewhat pure. Crap. Too late for that, anyway.

He finished dressing, draping the thin towel over his shoulders. As someone who had spent the bulk of his life in frigid climes, he was wholly uncomfortable leaving any crucial part of his anatomy bare; since he'd lost his shirt to the princess's political shenanigans he had every intention of demanding alternative wear.

As if his mind were being read, the lock in the door to the holding cell rattled briefly before the door itself opened. The shorter girl with the long braid, wide eyes, and all too predatory grin strode in, his blue tunic over her arm. He remembered her name was Ty Lee.

"Hey, Handsome," she quipped, "You look all clean and shiny, now. Good enough to eat."

"Hey, Brat. What do you want?"

"That's not very friendly. I'm not a 'brat'."

"You're one of my jailors, aren't you? Why should I be friendly?"

"Because I'm flirting with you. You should be flattered. Do you think I'm pretty?"

Sokka was flummoxed. Her responses made no sense to him whatsoever.

"Um. Jailor-prisoner thing, remember? That was not an appropriate question."

She smiled, this time a bit more broadly. "It seems to me that if I'm a jailor, I'm the one who gets to make the rules, not the prisoner. So I get to decide what's appropriate. Do you think I'm pretty?"

He shuddered. Apparently there would be no evading this line of interrogation.

"Fine, Brat, you're pretty. Like an egret stalking a fish. Lovely to watch, but you gotta feel sorry for the fish." (Only belatedly did it occur to him that he could have lied…)

Ty Lee laughed easily, then her eyes grew wider as she contemplated the image he'd invoked.

"Are you feeling like a fish, Water Tribe boy?" She drew a few steps closer. Since the cabin wasn't large to begin with, this brought her within arm's length of Sokka, who was loath to back away, no matter how much his gut screamed at him otherwise.

"What. Do. You. Want?" He repeated. With mild regret he thought about the damage his sister could do with the quantity of water in the basin at his feet. Sometimes it would be nice to be able to bend.

"I already have your shirt. What would you say if I asked for the rest of your clothing?"

Sokka shook his head at her. "Forget it, Brat. I'm not interested and I don't honestly believe you are either. The princess won't find anything in my other clothes to suit her purpose either."

"Aren't you a clever one? But maybe it's not your clothes I'm interested in – maybe it's seeing you without them." Ty Lee tilted her head beguilingly. "Nice necklace. I don't think I've seen anything like it before."

Sokka's brain stumbled. Damn it! This was wrong, all wrong. Her comments were outrageous, especially when coupled with that hungry grin of hers. And it made it that much harder for him to think!

"No. Forget it."

"Ooh. It is special, isn't it? Princess Azula would definitely find it more useful than your shirt. Perhaps I'll keep the shirt…" she reached up towards his neck.

Without even thinking he grabbed her wrist, and when her other hand shot out stiff-fingered to block his chi his other fist was already blocking, twisting and then grasping that wrist as well. His grip was hard and uncompromising as he pulled her over his hip, then slammed her against the wall.

"I said no! Look. You send that and trust me, they'll know you took it off my dead body. What good is that now?" He hissed.

With a sharp intake of breath Ty Lee realized that she had assumed a little too much as to her own ability to cope with this boy. Her advantage lay in surprise and speed, but he was all too familiar with her fighting tactics. Still, she wasn't frightened. Instead, she felt a little thrill run through her as she felt his weight trap her so quickly. After all, there was a guard outside the door; all she had to do was scream, and water boy here would be, quite literally, toast.

Using his grip on her arms, she leveraged her body up, reaching with her lips for his, still twisted in a snarl. He didn't know all her tactics after all.

The kiss was such a surprise that, for a brief moment Sokka froze, her mouth soft against his and shockingly, mind-numbingly hungry. Then he thrust himself away from her, tripping over the basin on the floor and sprawling out awkwardly as he tried to avoid the sloshing water as well as what he was now thinking was a very dangerous lady indeed.

"What's taking you so long?" The door had opened unnoticed to admit yet another of the trio, who stopped short as her eyes took in the scene. "You were supposed to get his necklace, not engage in lip-lock exercises with him."

"I'm working on it. He says they'll think he's dead if they see that." There was no embarrassment in Ty Lee's voice, and Sokka wondered if she made a habit of kissing strangers. As she moved to close the distance between them again he scooted sideways on his backside, trying to keep his eyes on and at least arm's length away from both girls. His back thudded painfully on the far wall.

"Maybe, but the necklace is more distinctive than the shirt. Azula wants there to be no ambiguity as to who our prisoner is." The voice was flat, but for all her apparent nonchalance Sokka saw a nasty-looking blade of some kind had appeared in the girl's left hand. Ty Lee was kneeling beside him now, and he felt her hands at his throat again. Reflexively, he pulled away, but he didn't try to grab her arms again. There was no point and he felt foolish enough as it was.

"Hey, there's no knot or clasp on this thing."

"I told you, it doesn't come off."

"Here, I'll cut it off." Now the other one moved closer and he felt himself panicking.

Sokka's arms came up in a warding gesture. "Wait. Look, you don't need it. My shirt's good enough, really. If you look at the right side seam you'll see it's been repaired with black thread instead of blue. My sister sewed it. She'll recognize the stitches."

Ty Lee frowned, looking at her companion even has she continued to rest one hand on his shoulder as the other slipped fingers between the carved bone segments of his necklace and his throat, trying to find the connecting band. Her touch was lingering, almost intimate, and Sokka swallowed hard at the sensation.

"Sorry, Handsome. Azula said she wanted the necklace."

"No. He's right. The shirt will do. Come on, Ty Lee, you can play with him later." The taller girl, whose name had escaped Sokka, had picked up his tunic from the floor where Ty Lee had dropped it during the kiss. Turning it inside out, she ran one finger over the line of black thread among the blue.

"Really? You think Azula will be satisfied that his sister will recognize her handiwork? Gee, Handsome, I think Mai must like you, too, to stick up for you like that. Don't worry, I'll be back." And with a final caress of his jawline, Ty Lee stood up and walked to the cell door.

"The princess will be satisfied." The tall one, Mai, turned to look at Sokka, deliberately waiting until his eyes met hers. "After all, we can always remind the sister what to look for."

With that she closed the door behind her. Sokka heard the key turn in the lock, but he didn't move from his position on the floor of the cell, sitting against the wall.

As his brain resumed its normal functioning he realized just how foolish he had been, and he buried his head in his hands.

A/N: Okay, I admit, this chapter had me howling with laughter. Ty Lee is no Victorian miss sighing at the picture of her noble savage (thanks, by the way, dear reviewer, for the delightful image). I picture her more as the Regency noble whore, entirely enjoying what life has to offer. If she were smarter, now, she'd be really dangerous!