Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Merits ❯ Part Three ( Chapter 3 )

"Merits" Part Three

The next night…

“See you tonight.”

Smiling, Katara tucked the note back into her bag and waited by the tea house door.

An arm reached out from behind her, and took her by the elbow.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, it's me,” the dark-haired man soothed when she jerked back, surprised.

“Oh, sorry, you startled me,” pushing her long straightened hair from her eyes, she smiled engagingly. “So, you wanna go in?”

“Lead the way.”

Ditching his toothpick in a standing ashtray by the door, Jet followed Katara into the establishment's candle-lit obscurity.

 

(in another part of town)

 

“So she hasn't mentioned who yet?”

“Not to me.”

“It's probably fine, Toph.”

“Something's wrong, Sokka,” Toph jutted her chin out stubbornly. “I can feel it.”

From underneath the BMW's hood, Sokka's shoulders slumped. He was rolling around on a dolly, so it was difficult to do, but he did it.

“Look, she knows what she's doing. As much as I hate to admit it, it isn't always my business to know her business.”

Toph's face darkened.

“She must have gotten really good dirt on you for you to give this up THAT easily,” she said. The young woman had spent many years at an all-girls' school and had mastered the art of passive aggression.

Without thinking, Sokka rose up too quickly and ended up whacking his head on the undercarriage when he reacted, “I'll have you know, that's a total—,” BANG, “OW!”

He could practically hear her smirk from her leaning-against-the-hood position above him.

“You did that on purpose,” he groused, rubbing the tender spot. It was going to bruise, he knew it, and he was supposed to have a date the next night. Now how was he supposed to go? With a bandage around his forehead? Not cool.

“Oops, my bad…”

“It's more sincere when you aren't chuckling,” he muttered.

 *********

The air was chilly when they left the teahouse, the ethnic musicians who'd been playing for the patrons filing out just after them with their instruments.

“They were really good, weren't they?” remarked Katara as the talented group hopped into their van in high spirits. She pulled her scarf tighter and burrowed into her jacket. She really had studied a bit… until the music started. The meager effort buoyed her guilty conscience and warmed her in the chilly outdoors.

“Yeah, the drummer had some solid beats.” He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck. “You cold?” he asked softly in her ear.

She shivered, and felt her face grow a bit warm. “I guess I should have brought my tea `to go',” she joked. The cold didn't usually get to her, but Toph's words had put her on edge about everything. She must have worn herself out with worrying.

“My place is closer - did you want to stop in there? To warm up before heading home?”

She felt him take her hand in his, and twine their fingers together. He was very warm. The night air around her embraced her suddenly, and felt much colder, almost more dangerous, than it had a moment before. It wouldn't be so bad to stop in, for just a few minutes… And I did study… I really did… I can keep this break up a bit longer. I earned it.

And then she remembered the presentation she had coming up, and groaned.

Immediately misinterpreting her reaction, Jet stiffened and started removing his arm, not saying a word.

”Oh, no, Jet, it's not you! I have a presentation due soon, and I know I have marking to do before I turn in tonight,” she said sourly, before grabbing for the front of his jacket and facing him with pleading blue eyes. “I'm sorry, it's just bad timing on my part. I was having such a good time tonight… with you… I kind of forgot about it until now…” she stammered, and ended on a disappointed tone. She had been having a wonderful time. She couldn't believe she was feeling so free, just from a date. How old was she? And she'd completely forgotten about her work and the time—how often did that happen?

“No, no, it's ok, I get it. I'll take you straight home.”

“Jet, I'm sorry! I really do have a--,” he wasn't listening. She growled angrily in frustration as he kept walking away in front of her. He was leaving her behind. It was getting colder.

Stupid guys and their fragile egos. There was no point in being honest with them if they were going to take everything personally. Grumpy at her own reaction, she was torn - a few more minutes of `breaktime' or accomplishing all her work and getting to bed at an almost reasonable time? Both would feel pretty good. Life or school? Life or school? Lifeorschool?

Why was he making her choose, damn him! Life or school?

“Argh!”

She stopped walking, and after a few more steps, he came to a halt, too.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and put herself in his shoes for a moment. She knew he was upset; she'd feel upset if someone had rejected her the way she had just done, too. He didn't deserve that, not after how kind he'd been to her tonight.

“Jet.”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. His eyes were hurt.

She sighed in resignation. Another all-nighter…

Smiling ruefully to herself, she caught up with him and put his arm around her shoulder again.

“So… what kind of tea do you have at your place?”

He couldn't help smiling down at her, and all the warmth came flooding back. “Whatever we can find in the corner store on the way there.”

With a playful shout, she punched him in the side. They were back on their way, cozying up with every block they traversed together.

 ****************

“Thanks, I'll take you out next time,” she teased, getting up from the couch to put her cup by the sink. “Want me to wash up before I go?”

A digital clock on one of the mis-matched end tables informed them both it was past 1am, far beyond Katara's usual bedtime. They'd fallen into a light sleep after cuddling up with their tea.

“No, s'ok,” Jet replied, still on the couch. He was the picture of relaxation, with his comfy loose shirt and jeans, his socks kicked off, and a blanket placed carefully across his middle. It was still warm from Katara sharing it with him a moment earlier. He leaned to the side and yawned, stretching his legs.

“I'll make it up to you,” she promised.

He propped himself up on his elbow, watching her. “…You don't have to go.”

Katara paused on her way to the apartment door, considering his offer.

“I'll make it up to you,” she repeated.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Wrapping her scarf around her neck and pulling her boots on neatly, she shook her head, smiling. “No, I'll be fine. It's 1am on a weeknight - seriously, who else is stupid enough to be up this late? And the way is well-lit. I'll be fine. You stay and rest! You have to be at work first thing.” She looked over at her boyfriend warmly. He'd worked so hard to become a better person since their first encounter: he now held a steady job, he'd straightened out his personal issues - or, wasn't hiding them from her anymore, at least, -- and had spent the entire night trying to relax and make her feel like she was worth a million bucks. She promised herself to make it up to him soon.

“I can take a sick day, or head in late if you need me to--.”

”You. Work. Morning.” Or else, her glare reminded him severely.

He sighed, slumping down on the couch. She didn't doubt he'd sleep there that night.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Blowing him a kiss, she grabbed her knapsack and bid him goodnight.

He was asleep before she closed the door.

 **************

She was nearly home.
A few more steps, and she would have been at her own apartment, safe and sound, cuddling under warm blankets and drifting to sleep on happy dreams made of the pleasant evening's memories.

A few more steps, that was all.

But it was too far, just out of reach.

“… Miss, you dropped something!” called a muffled voice from behind her, nearly causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk in surprise.

“What?” she turned, and spied the young man, just as bundled-up as she was, approaching her at a faint jog. He was holding out her pocketbook.

“You dropped this about half a block back, but I didn't want to startle you. Here you go, have a safe trip home!” His wide frame blocked out most of the light from the nearby streetlamp, and his dark green jacket and scarf concealed most of his face and body. No wonder she could barely make out what he was saying.

“Thank you,” she said politely, reaching out to accept it from him. “I didn't realize I dropped it.” Anxious to get home so she could get out of the cold, she took a step towards him.

He held the book just out of her reach. “Don't I get to know your name?”

Her anxiety slowly uncoiled in her stomach, and gradually she felt her heart beat speed up in warning. Something wasn't right.

“Sorry, I'm late already, my friends are waiting for me to get in. Thank you very much for your help, I really appreciate it. May I have my book, please?”

He held it out towards her an inch. “Maybe another time.”

Run, a tiny voice inside her called out. But Katara's stubborn side took over, ignoring it.

“Give me back my book. I need to get home.”

He didn't say anything, but looked at her with dark, unsettling eyes.

Completely exasperated, Katara stomped her foot and glared at him now. “You can give me back my book, or I am going to take it from you, and I'm going to report you for harassment, Bucko!” she shouted, jabbing a finger at him.

He stood there, calmly, taking in her display of temper.

Still watching her.

“Ugh.”

Katara snatched at the book, ripping it from the man's hands and marching away; she threw him a murderous look as she started up the steps to her apartment building.

From behind her, the man chuckled lowly, just loud enough for her to hear.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Run, begged her inner voice, runrunrunrunrunrunrun—

She leapt forward to yank open the security doors.

He was faster.

 *********

Another night out with… what was her name? Jin? Song? He couldn't remember. He went through them so quickly, he rarely bothered to learn their names anymore.

Not that it mattered, now that the interlude was over. (Or so he thought - who knew what went on in human girls' heads?)

It hadn't ended as well as he'd hoped, but it had done wonders for building her trust in him, which would pay off in the long run. In the meantime, he was left hungry.

He rolled the window down to listen for anyone else he could sate his thirst with, and heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle from the side alley, a few houses up. He slowed the car and pulled to the curb, hoping they would finish soon so he could choose the stronger one to feed on temporarily. His personal philosophy was to never get truly involved in the lives of his prey - gaining their trust to make them more willing was one thing, but taking any kind of active role or influence in their day-to-day living was too much trouble, too much risk.

So he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and waited for them to finish duking it out. It took him a moment to realize it was a man… and a woman.

“You scum-sucking excuse for a man!” she screamed indignantly. “How dare you attack me!”

Then came the `oomphs' of a man groaning; he sounded like he was hunched over.

Must've been going for the balls again. Crazy women always do that, he thought to himself as he sat behind his steering wheel.

More sounds of a woman hitting her aggressor.

“Take that! And that! And that! And that!...” (pause) “And if you ever think of touching another woman again, so help me, I'll…” (pause) “Ugh, you bleed a lot…” (pause) “Yeah, you better stay down!...”

From the car, the young-looking man couldn't help but smirk. Clearly, this man had underestimated his own prey.

“Oy! Janes, that you!” A second male voice joined the chorus of grunts. He sounded angrier than the first man, though.

“Miikei, d'j'you find'im?”

“Over `ere, guys.”

“Hey, who're you? What are you—hey, let go of me!”

The man in the car tensed. More sounds of a scuffle, and now jeers and deep-toned hostility wafted over on the cool air.

Apparently, the stupid man had a lot of friends. No, he amended mentally as his hands reached forward and gripped the steering wheel, accomplices. This had been planned.

 **************

“If you even think about—Argh!” Katara's voice was cut off as the new leader grabbed her by the throat and started lifting her off the ground. She swung out and felt her kick reach around the side of his knee, throwing off his balance; in retaliation, he smashed her against the brick outer wall of a nearby garage structure. She saw stars, but continued snarling at him.

“You, pick him up; you two, we're bringing her inside…” ordered the smarmy thug, his grip tightening incrementally until her airway was cutoff.

“No…” she wheezed out, trying to claw his fingers off. Two men approached her and grabbed her legs to keep her from struggling.

Glancing back at her confidently, he raised both his eyebrows, and said one word, very calmly :  “Yes.”

The stars Katara had seen were joined now by encroaching darkness, and she fought to stay conscious despite what she was sure was at least a minor concussion.

“Let… me… go…”

Her sight was gone; so was her sense of touch. She wasn't even sure she was still holding on to his arm. She did her best to keep listening, refusing to give in.

The man tutted as if scolding a naughty child. “Tch-tch-tch-tch-tch, you nasty girl, this isn't the way a lady behaves.”

Panic flooded her as she counted the sounds of the thugs. There were too many people. One she could handle—but how many were there now? Four? Five?

Jet, someone, help me, please!

“You're no man, either,” she wanted to quip. She wasn't sure she'd said the words out loud.  The darkness enveloped her. Everything was blurring out.

She must have said something, though, since he shook her hard enough to snap her head back against the wall again, and she fell to the ground.

She lost consciousness, and the last thing she remembered was a faraway car door slam.