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[4izhalo]

Chapter 7 - It's Just Science

It's Just Science - Chapter 7 is coming soon!

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~ Enemies ~ Slow Burn ~ University AU ~ Co-workers ~ Through the Years ~ Fake Dating ~ Plans of Revenge ~Denial ~ OT5 ~ Only One Bed ~

[i-write-for-myself]

"--besides, I don't know any love songs."

"Yes, you do!"

Thomas blinked, looking away from his quiet conversation with his kind host to his sister in the street, game of Pirates suspended entirely. Fenagr lowered his stick sword in confusion.

She plowed ahead, counting on her fingers.

"I Had Some Help, Morgan Wallen-"

He frowned. "Not who sings that-"

"- Akido/Neurotic -"

"Not a love song."

" - I Like It, I Love It, Tim McGraw -"

He hemmed. Looked around the sleepy fishing village, removed from time, his and his sister's presence alone a vivifying shock to the routine.

"I don't know if this is the place for Tim McGraw."

She paused, breath caught in preparation to list off another song that mentioned a person at all.

"If Tim McGraw isn't welcome here, neither am I."

[orangepanic]

Someone convinced me to re-write In the Meantime, a sad somewhat unrequited love Irosami hotel hookup fic, from Asami's perspective, which is an interesting challenge. I can't say it's easy but I'm having fun stretching my brain around what Asami might have been thinking and feeling while General Iroh pined his little heart out.

--

He had places all over the world that he trusted or that at least had a price point to be trusted to keep his indescretions out of the papers and off his mother's desk and out of the ears of whomever he would be courting more formally in the stiff boring long-distance way he never even bothered to talk about anymore. I'm hoping if I'm gone long enough she'll forget about me, he'd said once, and at least he wasn't married yet so he must be doing something right in that regard. I don't even get to pick them, he'd said, they appear every time I visit like mushrooms after a rain all different but always the same basic shape Asami I can't tell them apart.

The door to the suite swung open. He'd dressed in civilian clothes, a simple shirt and breeches, any outerwear shed along with shoes and formality. Windswept hair and a bit of a tan. His quiet smile as fine and understated as the fabric he wore. Asami wondered how long he'd been waiting and felt a pang of guilt that wasn't entirely or even mostly about the time. It wasn't using him if he got off too but maybe if she stopped doing this, if they stopped doing this, Iroh really would settle down and then someone could meet him at a door that wasn't a hotel room door and look at that smile and say.

"Hi," she said. "May I come in?"

Iroh stepped aside. There were lines of tension around his eyes and the kind of droop to his mouth that he got when he hadn't been sleeping. Asami found herself wishing again that there was someone on his staff who would notice and send Iroh to bed, or maybe she should. He could use the hotel for sleeping. A bed was a bed was a bed. At least he'd gotten something to eat though, even if it was only fruit. They were both bad like that on their busiest days; Asami herself had had nothing but a few nibbles at tea breaks. Maybe they could order up something more substantial, after.

"It's what they had," Iroh said from behind her.

[orangepanic]

Since it's so long between updates lately, a little share from a WIP:

Iroh read the list for the third time. “That is a lot of copper wire,” he commented.

Asami didn’t look up from the book she’d spread out on her worktable. “Yes.”

“The gauge will be obvious?”

“Yes.”

“I assume the blender might be acquired from an industrial kitchenware store.”

“Maybe.”

“And do you know where I can get a fan of that size?” he prodded.

“No.”

Iroh breathed out through his nose, annoyed. “Do you need anything else while I’m out today, Miss Sato?”

“No.” A slight pause. Asami opened her mouth as if to say something else, then closed it, instead rolling one shoulder slightly as if she were stiff. Iroh noted she was no longer wearing the clothes she’s arrived in again, the dark high-collared jacket and slacks. Thanks to him there were now laundry services as well as the cook, all his people with the appropriate clearance. It was good that Asami was making use of them. Iroh was, however, was still in charge of acquisitions for her little project in case any of the materials proved sensitive. Such as, for some fucking reason, a six-foot-tall fan.

“Right.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ll get on it.”

“Good.” Asami flipped the page. Iroh had been in the military long enough to understand a dismissal when he saw it. He folded the list she'd given him a little harder than necessary and tucked it into the breast pocket of his uniform. 

Outside, it was raining again. Iroh stalked through the grounds back towards the main house as his carefully-styled hair became increasingly damp. He wouldn’t be fit to be seen in a few minutes. Not that it mattered. All he was doing was buying a blender. And wire. And a gigantic fan, and a number of other odds and ends that were going towards Agni knew what Miss Sato was actually building. It was a perfect use of a seasoned general, he thought bitterly. Visiting every hardware store in half-destroyed Republic City in hopes of finding a bizarre assortment of very ordinary items.

“Fans!” Iroh cursed, slamming open the door to the residence and shaking off the rain.

[ladzwriting]

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