Dai Li's Personal Spy

Chapter 42: "Please, just stay."

"Toph, where is the chicken-possum? I need to cook it," I called over to Toph, who was refusing to sweep like she was asked.

"What chicken-possum?" Toph asked, playing with the broom in her hands rather than sweeping the floor with it.

I placed the pan on the stove, "The chicken possum you were meant to get today at the butcher's."

Toph made a face.

"You forgot?!" I bellowed out.

"I got distracted," Toph said dismissively.

"You'll be distracted when your stomach is grumbling because I couldn't cook the food!" I barked back, slamming my wooden spoon down on the counter.

"You go buy it then!" Toph rebutted, slamming the broom down.

"Oh, I will, and I'm going to take my sweet time. And no one is allowed to have a smidgen of food before I return!" I yelled back, grabbing my bag and slipping my shoes on.

"Not even a cracker?" Sokka whined from the living room.

"If I so much as see one cracker gone, I'm lighting this house on fire."

"Noted," Sokka replied.

I slammed the door in my leave, furious with Toph. Her willingly terrible memory had me in fits of rage. A few times, I caught my palms steaming off. I trudged to the train station, my focus on the butcher and the butcher only. And best believe I was going to go to the furthest one I knew.

I boarded the train, stomping down towards a seat. I plopped myself down, crossing my arms and burning a hole through the spot I stared at. Possum-chicken took a great deal of heckling to get it at a reasonable price. Toph was amazing at heckling, that was why I wanted to her go!

I got up and made a b-line towards the butcher. I arrived just before they had closed up shop. I ran towards the door, and the bald man inside looked dismayed at my arrival. "I know, you're about to close, but I really need some possum chicken," I pleaded with the man, who looked menacing with his meat cleaver.

"Fine," he grumbled, going out the back to fetch it. I made a sigh of relief. Someone else entered the shop.

Mis-matched armour and two hooked swords. I made an audible groan. He smirked. "Well, I just keep running into you, no-name girl."

"Are you able to stop?" I grumbled, leaning against the counter.

"I'm getting a funny sense of deja vu," Jet commented, looking around the wood-furnished shop.

"Oh, do you mean when you attacked me for sending mail?" I hissed back, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, I thought we were over that," he said slyly, sliding in next to me. "So, can I buy you dinner?"

"A noble offer, indeed, but I'm kind of involved with someone at the moment," I said to Jet.

"That's too bad. It's not scar, boy, is it?" Jet asked me sourly.

"How did you know that?" I asked him, turning around to face him.

"I saw him at that tea shop with you. You should stop hanging around him." Jet said sternly. I was surprised he hadn't noticed Zuko from before. But to be fair to him, his haircut really was a focusing feature.

"Why should I do that?" I asked him.

"Because I think he's Fire Nation." Oh no.

I turned my worry into denial. "Lee isn't Fire Nation, don't be ridiculous."