30Just a few things to note before reading:
#1. This is complete crack.
#2. It is set in a slightly AU setting where Iroh overthrows Ozai's reign as Fire Lord.
#3. This is complete crack.
#4. Because this is complete crack, except some OOC behavior.
#5. This is a one-shot that I do not plan on expanding (although it could be a crack companion piece to a fic I haven't posted yet (see profile for details)).
#6. I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender
#7. Enjoy.
Physical combat is not the only successful method to win a war; true victory is only a matter of how much one is willing to concede.
Diplomacy
by
-Electric Risk-
Katara was angry. So angry that she could barely form coherent thought and her finger shook with boiling rage as she pointed menacingly at the bane of her existence. "You," she spat, unable to think up anything more heinous than him being himself. "You… you…"
Zuko laughed, "Alright Katara, that's a readily established fact. I am me; we know. Surely you can do better than that." He smugly crossed his arms and smirked -convinced he had won.
That was the straw that broke the ostrich horse's back.
She lunged at him, no longer able to contain her seething anger by stammering and pointing. The act caught him off guard and succeeded in wiping that conceited grin off his face. Katara was pleased.
…Until he ended up straddling her on the cold, tile floor with her arms secured above her head. Perhaps she should have thought things through more, there wasn't any water around and Zuko always had been better at hand-to-hand combat…
"You ruined all of my clothes," Katara fumed from under him. "Ruined!"
Zuko rolled his eyes. "I did no such thing! Your clothes are all perfectly wearable, why you're even wearing them now!"
"But everything's… everything's… everything is purple," she hissed as though she had a bad taste in her mouth. "What could possibly possess you to dye my clothes that disgusting color?"
"Nothing," he replied honestly. "Though it does strike me as odd that you hate a color so close to blue."
Katara stared at the arched ceiling past Zuko's head as he loomed over her. She sighed. "Purple brings out ugly red hues in my skin. It makes me look like a steamed lobster shrimp. And how dare you try to play the innocent? I know very well you were behind this, you… you… you…"
"Back to stammering, are we Katara?"
She screamed in his face. "You're infuriating, you know that?"
"I pride myself on the fact."
"Will you at least tell me why my clothes are purple all of a sudden?" she demanded, shifting a little; the floor was rather hard and uncomfortable for her back, especially under the weight of the prince.
"That's simple, I was getting you back for cutting off my topknot last week."
"We were sparing! That was an accident! It's not my fault you didn't duck in time to protect your precious hair from my ice disk!" Katara cried in outrage. "Besides, I already apologized for that! …And why on earth would you choose purple?"
"Accident or not, you still cut off my topknot," Zuko decisively retorted. "And like I said before, I didn't choose purple. I chose red…" He chose to let her up at this point and sat next to her against the wall. "I didn't realize it would, you know…" He gestured to her very purple outfit.
"Wow Zuko," Katara said after a moment of reflection. "You're not very good at that whole 'revenge' thing, are you? Didn't anyone ever teach you the colors when you were a kid?" She regarded her tunic and broke out laughing, "Apparently not!"
Zuko then effortlessly turned himself red. "Yeah, well," he stammered, struggling to find a worthy comeback... "We'll see what you say tomorrow when you wake up without any hair!"
That got her to shut up.
Katara's eyes narrowed to slits. "You wouldn't."
The firebender arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"
"What would your uncle say about that, I wonder?"
Zuko shrugged with an annoying nonchalance. "I don't know, why don't we go and ask him, and then I can tell him what really happened to his favorite teapot."
"That-that… that was an accident!" she exclaimed. "Not to mention your fault! You startled me and-"
"And you dropped it," he finished. "I just did the neighborly thing by helping you remove all the evidence. Do you see what a nice guy I am? And then you had to go ruin it all by cutting off my topknot. That's really disgraceful, Katara, I'm appalled."
"You are evil, you know that?" she asked. "I think you've been spending too much time around Azula."
Zuko rolled his eyes. "If I were Azula, I would set your hair on fire, not cut it off."
"Point," Katara remarked as her mind slipped off in thought. It was time, she realized, for a change in tactics. War was something Zuko understood, something he was good at; diplomacy on the other hand… "Okay, Zuzu," Katara began, clutching his arm affectionately. "What can I do to convince you not to cut off all my hair, or tell Uncle Iroh about my tiny, little accident?"
Zuko immediately recoiled (Katara took this as a good sign) and his face turned red again at the close contact. Yes, he had been quite close to her when he had her straddled, but that was a combat move, this was… not. But Zuko was no fool; he knew what Katara was doing. 'That conniving little…' This was war, and he knew just how to counter her attack. "Oh, I think you know what I want," Zuko huskily replied, packing in as much innuendo as he could manage.
Katara blinked. 'Hmm, he's not backing down as easily as I thought he would,' she thought. 'Ah well, no matter; this isn't over by a long-shot and I shall still be the victor!' It was now time, she decided, to lay on her charm with a dash of obliviousness. "Oh," she breathed, her voice an octave higher than usual, "I don't think I do, Zuko. You might have to show me what you want."
Just like that, Zuko was slapped in the face with a yard of 'Caution' tape. He was teetering on the edge of a line he shouldn't cross and Katara was teetering right there with him. He could still win! He'd just have to make sure he took Katara down with him when he took the plunge. Now it was just a question of how… "If you insist, Katara," he replied, whispering her name into her ear, relishing each syllable. Oh, he was good; he was freaking Casanova good.
Zuko sharply grabbed one of Katara's hands and, bringing it to his chest, he wove his fingers between hers. He tried desperately not to dwell on how soft and small her hand was. Then, he wrapped his other arm around the small of her back, scooting her closer and prompting her to release a small squeak of surprise. He did not feel a spike of longing at their sudden closeness, nor did he come close to being nervous at the proximity of their faces (almost nose to nose). He had no special interest in Katara's pretty, big, blue eyes that stared with such awe into his own… nope. None at all. (He was far too engrossed on his mental rendition of the "Doom" song, about his own doom that is.)
Katara seethed. 'Darn it! This isn't going how I planned at all! How was I supposed to know that Zuko would be so good at this?' Mostly though, she was upset at how her body was reacting to his attentions; how her breath hitched with he pulled her closer, how her hand felt so comfortable tucked into his own, how she couldn't seem to look away from his gorgeous golden eyes. 'No, no, no!' she mentally raged. 'His eyes are not gorgeous! They're not!' She would win; she had to win!
Slowly, Katara took her spare hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. Next, she leaned in just a little more (as they were already so close) and slightly parted her lips.
The loser would be the one who backed away first, but at this point Katara kinda hoped it would come out in a draw.
Zuko's hand tightened over her own and tugged her forward…
The second their lips touched, all thoughts of revenge, diplomacy, purple clothes, blotchy-red skin, and really awful haircuts flitted from their minds like a hyper-active butterfly distracted by a more interesting flower.
Katara's free arm snaked around Zuko's neck as the boy's arm tightened around her waist. And then every thing came to a screeching halt at the sound of one very prominent cleared throat.
Like two children with their hands caught in the cookie jar, they looked up, wide-eyed to face their metaphorical pissed off babysitter.
'Shit… Lieutenant Jee.'
"Uh," Zuko was the first to find his voice. "H-how long were you standing there, exactly?"
Jee quirked an eyebrow, "Long enough," he said, then casting a small glare to Katara, "to learn that I searched in vain for two and a half weeks for Lord Iroh's missing teapot."
"Uh…" Katara stammered as she and Zuko jumped to their feet (making sure to stand a respectable distance from each other). "We can explain!"
"Really?" Jee's eyebrows rose higher, "Because I'd rather you didn't… I really, really, really don't want to know." At this, he turned heel and started the opposite way down the hall.
"Wait!" Katara cried.
Lieutenant Jee turned to find the girl suddenly bashful (more bashful, at any rate). "Yes?" he asked with slight impatience.
"You um, you aren't going to tell Iroh, are you? About the teapot, I mean." She dutifully studied the floor's large, shiny granite tiles.
Jee grunted, shaking his head in dismay. He muttered, "Spirits alive," before stalking away again.
When the lieutenant turned the corner, Katara punched Zuko hard in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?" he pouted, taking the offensive.
The waterbender's eyes gleamed as she replied, "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" the firebender reeled indignantly. "You're the one who-"
Jee's eyes darkened as he watched the two benders from the safety of the corner. 'Just great,' he groused. 'Now I owe Iroh forty silvers. This is the last time I let that old man badger me into a bet on Prince Zuko's twisted love life.
…and I am so telling him about the teapot, too.'
-Fin-
:AN: Well, what'd I tell you? Complete crack. I'm pretty mystified as to where I pulled the inspiration for this, but I kinda like how it turned out... even though I had to re-write Jee's dialog at the end five times before I got it right... Still not too pleased with it (he kind of came off sounding like a miffed thirteen year old girl), but whatever.
Anyway, I try my hardest to keep the grammar and spelling nice and neat, but if I missed something it would be cool of you to let me know so I can fix it!
I would also appreciate hearing any other comments you might have on the piece. I can't grow as a writer without feedback after all! (ie. Please review!)
Love and stuff,
-Electric Risk-