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Just a jotty little thing I had to get out of my head

Title: Unwrapped
Fandom: Avatar
Pairing: Jet/Mai
Rating: PG-13 for language/innuendo

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.




"Well, what do you want to eat?"

The question slipped out before she could stop it, like a ritual chant that she'd practiced far too many times. Even the way she sat on her legs, arms folded across her stomach and head bowed like a chambermaid being given her day's assignment. He didn't know why that was the last straw, why it angered him so much, gave him the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her until her brain scrambled.

"That's not what I asked," he said, stern. "I asked what you wanted."

Mai averted her eyes even more if it was possible. "I'll go with whatever you decide. I'm not picky."

He shook his head. "You wanting what I want isn't an answer."

Finally she looked at him. "Jet...I really don't care what dinner ends up being tonight, as long as we actually have something to eat. So just pick what you want so Longshot can go kill it for us, ok?"

His palm connected solidly with his forehead, and he sat there mentally counting to twenty.


He said nothing.

"...This isn't about dinner, is it?"

He let out a tense breath.

"Look, what's got you so pissed off all of a sudden? Am I that bad at cooking? Suck at making tea? Lousy in bed? What?"

He jerked his head up at her, other hand balled into a fist at his side. "Fine. You wanna know what I want? I want a girlfriend, not a servant. I want to know what you want. What you like. What you need. I want at least some indication that you're happy instead of just tolerating me, ok?"

She blinked. "...Jet?"

"For the last fucking time, I'm not one of those stuffy high-collared noble pricks who just wants a baby-making trophy on his arm. I want you to have an opinion and to tell me what it is, because I actually give a damn what you think! Why, for the love of God, is that so hard for you to understand?"

She swallowed thickly, looking down at the grass. " one else does. No one else has ever cared what I think."

He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it gently, his voice going back down to that soft baritone now that the outburst was out of his system. "Well...things are different now. I do care. That's why I asked you." He sighed. "I'm sorry if I sounded pissed off. I'm just...frustrated."

She let out a breath. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm...not used to anyone taking that kind of interest. I'm not exactly known for my engaging personality back home."

He leaned down, touching his forehead to hers. "That's 'cause nobody ever let you have one."

The corner of her mouth lifted in a wan smirk. "For the record, I've been craving stuffed cabbage."

He laughed. "I think I can handle that. Just leave the fire flakes out of mine, ok?"

She snorted. "You are such a wuss."

"Hey, I just prefer to save the spice for the bedroom. I think it's a fair trade."

She let that full-on smirk spread across her face. The one that made his hands just itch to tear her clothes off and make her scream his name loud enough for the Sun God himself to hear her. "Oh really, now?"

"Yes," he said, returning that smirk. "And I triple-dog dare you to disagree."

She screwed her face up into his, taking that teasing nip at his bottom lip that never failed to make his pants tighten in the most deliciously uncomfortable way.

"Bring it, buster..."



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June 2012


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