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Yue gets dolled up to go to the farmer’s market every weekend because she is gay and lonley and never quite let go of the bad-lesbian-romance-novel idea that she’s going to run into some gorgeous farmer with a drawl and a flannel with the top three buttons undone and like… a chicken under her arm or something, someone who will smile at Yue and genuinely want to talk to her.
Sokka gets dolled up to go to the farmer’s market because he isn’t going to waste an opportunity to wear the nice casual dresses he and Yue share and because he claims he likes standing in front of their full length mirror and drawing on his makeup.
Mostly, though, they get dolled up because they like spending the three-block walk to the church parking lot complimenting each other and reveling in the feeling of at least looking like the heroes of their stories, cute and young and happy.
“Madame,” Sokka says, bowing and holding their apartment door open as Yue walks out, pausing only a moment to shove him happily.
“Monsieur,” she says back, absolutely butchering the french word. “You look incredible this morning.”
“You always look incredible,” Sokka says, slinging an arm over Yue’s shoulder. Yue leans into him, just a little, as they start their walk down the sidewalk. The lady who sits on her porch and knits every Saturday morning thinks they’re together because of it, and once she asked Yue about a ring, but Yue doesn’t really mind and neither does Sokka. They’re just best friends who everyone thinks are fiancés.
Actually, most people think they’re engaged but that Sokka is cheating on Yue with the gloomy rich kid down the hall that neither of them have ever talked to, just because both Sokka and the gloomy rich kid look queer. Yue’s pretty sure she also looks gay, with her high-waisted jeans and Playmobil earrings, but no straight people can spot a lesbian unless they look like Ellen.
“I do,” Yue agrees, straightening her hair loops. “You too.” She thinks about the pile of basketball shorts and stretched-out t-shirts on Sokka’s floor and reconsiders. “Well, you always look good. Maybe not incredible.”
“Sometimes,” Sokka agrees. “I have cute hair.”
Yue flicks the end of Sokka’s wolftail and it bounces. The long part’s been growing out even as the sides stay neat, because while neither can muster the energy to make an appointment at GreatClips, Yue can do a pretty neat job cleaning up her and Sokka’s undercuts. “True,” she says. “I have cute hair too.”
“You do!” Sokka tugs on one of her braids just a little too hard and she ducks out from under his arm to punch him in the ribs. “Ow,” he complains.
“Whatever, there was no force behind that.” Yue wraps her arm around Sokka’s shoulder. They’re almost exactly the same height and they have been since sophomore year, which makes walking arm in arm not quite as easy as either would like it to be.
They walk the rest of the way to the farmer’s market like that, trading affectionate jabs and complimenting each other. Just like every Sunday morning.
But this Sunday morning, something is different. Good different, probably, but different.
There’s a new vendor, a tall Chinese woman with orange-red hair, the kind of biceps you get from lifting heavy boxes, and a smile that could literally stop traffic. She sings “Strawberry Blond” under her breath as she lays out honey in cute little jars and green-cardboard cartons of tiny strawberries.
When she looks up she meets Yue’s eyes and winks, still holding a carton of berries in either hand.
Yue feels her breath catch in her throat. Ducking behind Sokka is barely a conscious choice. Yue’s best friend is buff and he’s served as a good barrier between her and potentially awkward situations a bunch of times with only minimal mocking.
“Which ex did you see this time?” Sokka asks, voice teasing. “Point her out to me.”
Yue doesn’t say anything, too busy doing her best not to peer over Sokka’s shoulder at the beekeeper, because that would be childish and embarrassing.
“Oh my god, is it a he? You haven’t dated a dude since freshman year, and that was me. Are you embarrassed because you remembered we’re exes? Was there someone else?”
“I would’ve told you,” Yue says, just a little bit offended, because she and Sokka tell each other everything and he knows that. “And it’s not. It’s just…” her voice quiets without really any conscious thought, “there’s a new beekeeper setting up a tent and she winked at me and I panicked. Don’t look at her, though, I’m embarrassed.”
Sokka turns his whole head to look at the woman, because he’s never heard of tact in his entire life. Yue sighs and steps out from behind her friend to elbow him in the side. “I said don’t look,” she says, turning to follow Sokka’s gaze. The beekeeper grins at the pair.
“Oh, she’s cute,” Sokka says quietly. “Maybe even cuter than me.”
“Maybe,” Yue agrees.
The beekeeper waves, a gesture somehow both cutely shy and attractively confident, and Sokka and Yue wave back. Yue can feel the tips of her ears start to redden.
“Definitely cuter than me,” Sokka decides. Yue stays diplomatically silent. Sokka shoves her. “C’mon, go talk to her. She obviously wants to talk to you.”
“No, she wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t think she does, and I’m dating someone.” At Yue’s incredulous glare, Sokka throws up his hands. “Maybe. I can’t figure out if he asked me on a date or if he just wants more business at his uncle’s cafe. Besides, he only asked me out yesterday.”
Uncle’s cafe… that sounds familiar. Yue gasps. “Weird broody rich kid? I’ve been telling people for months that you weren’t having an affair with him. What will happen to our pretend marriage?” Yue’s actually a bit salty that Sokka didn’t tell her until now, but if she thinks about it, he did spend a weird amount of time in the courtyard in the middle of their apartment complex last night and she did dominate most of this morning’s conversation by infodumping about the Wikipedia articles she scoured last night. He probably meant to tell her but couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“It was doomed from the start,” Sokka says solemnly, “Jess two houses down says that you’re a lesbian.”
“Jess two houses down says that you’re cheap because you haven’t bought me a ring yet,” Yue says, fake pouting in a way that’s less about an irritation and more an effort to make Sokka forget about the beekeeper.
Sokka’s face goes mock offended, but the knowing quirk to his eyebrow says that he sees through Yue’s diversion. “I did! I got you that cute one with the beach glass in it that Aang made.”
Yue loves that ring, actually, one of Aang’s earlier attempts at metal soldering. They’d gone beach-combing earlier in the week, walking along the ocean with their sandals off and their gazes carefully cataloging the rocks on the ground for anything unusual. Yue and Aang had each left with handfuls of smoothed-over sea glass, treating them like treasures even though everyone else insisted they were just trash. Aang had set one piece into a ring with all of the careful sloppiness of someone who is learning a new skill. Yue likes it because it’s gorgeous and because it’s a happy reminder of the day. She always keeps a few chunks of sea glass in her pocket for the same reason.
“That was a present from Aang. You were just the messenger.”
“I still handed it to you,” Sokka says, grinning. He sighs. “Look, I don’t want to keep standing on the sidewalk just because you’re a useless lesbian. I do want to go buy my weekly cheese curds from Song, but because I love you and I know that you’re not actually useless, you just have self esteem issues because of being told your use only resides in your usefulness to others for years, I will play wingman and I will be great at it, just for you.”
Yue narrows her eyes. “You’re a shitty wingman,” she says, “don’t think I’ve forgotten the whole deal with Toph when you spilt chili on her crush’s backpack.”
“No chili this time,” Sokka responds, spreading his arms wide. Yue’s eyes dart over to the beekeeper again, who’s finished setting out her honey and is setting up cute little price signs with bees doodled on them. Her tongue sticks out just a little bit as she straightens the little pieces of paper, a look of complete concentration furrowing her brow. “Just my eternal knowledge of all the things I love about you.”
Yue can’t quite tear her eyes away from the beekeeper’s intent expression, but she still manages a nod. “Fine, okay, I trust you.”
“Aw,” Sokka says, “thanks.”
He strides over to the tent, now fully set up with little bee drawings on tented paper proclaiming how the jar of honey is eight dollars, like he’s never been shy in his life. Yue tags along behind him and immediately starts to parse through the jars of honey, trying to avoid the beekeeper’s eyes without seeming like she’s avoiding her eyes.
“I’m Sokka,” Sokka says, “like for your feet.”
The beekeeper laughs and it sounds like a chorus of something incredible. It sounds like the clouds parting to reveal a curtain of golden light. It sounds like eating cool strawberries on a hot day. “Suki,” she says back. “I don’t have a trick to remember it, so it’s okay if you forget.”
Suki’s even prettier up close, wearing a flannel over a soft t-shirt for what looks like a softball team- The Kyoshi Warriors- and dangly earrings with little strawberries at the bottom. Her face is open and speckled with moles, makeup drawn on perfectly and with a light hand.
“I would never forget your name,” Yue blurts, voice more impassioned then would be reasonable in any situation, then flushes happily when Suki laughs again. It doesn’t seem like she’s laughing at her, doesn’t really seem like she’s laughing out of humor at all. Suki is laughing out of joy at life- maybe joy at being able to talk to Yue. Yue smiles quietly and Suki smiles back.
Sokka clears his throat. “This is Yue,” he says, “she scored first place in all but one spelling bee our high school held and she makes a mean crepe.”
Suki’s eyes don’t leave Yue’s, but her smile widens just a little bit. “A woman of many talents, huh?”
“Yeah,” Sokka says. His voice is a mixture of amused and proud. “And she tailored this dress for me. She’s good with a pair of scissors,” he laughs.
Sokka, I am going to smother you in your sleep , Yue thinks. “I did theater tech in high school,” she explains, “and I used to sew my own clothes.”
“Wow,” Suki says, “I grow strawberries and keep bees. Once my friend Ty Lee threw a marshmallow at me from the other side of the room and I caught it in my mouth.” She laughs again, a self-deprecating note to it. “Not as good a pitch, admittedly.”
Yue bats her eyelashes admiringly, which might not be a thing people do, actually. Maybe she saw it in a movie once, maybe it’s a normal thing that she just forgot was normal. Maybe she’s making a fool of herself. “Honestly, that’s more impressive than being able to resew a hem. My depth perception is awful. ”
“Oh, depth perception is a myth,” Suki says blithely, grinning over the table of honey and strawberries at Yue. “And it’s more on the tosser than the catcher. I just stand there.”
“Oh, well, maybe I could handle that. Sokka has terrible aim, though. Once he threw me a needle-” at Suki’s horrified expression, Yue blinks and frantically shakes her head. “No, no, nothing bad happened, I just- oh, fuck .”
A gust of wind, only a little bit stronger than all the others passing by, spins around the table and sends all the price papers spiralling to the ground.
“Dammit,” Suki says, perfect face creasing in distress for just a moment before settling into mild annoyance.
“Not the little bees,” Sokka says mournfully.
Yue ducks to collect the cards where they flutter near the foot of the table. Clover honey, one says, and she reaches out to grab it before it flies away to the patch of clover across the street. Another hand falls on hers just as she touches the paper, tan skin and wearing chipped army green nail polish. Yue glances up and finds herself face to face with Suki’s smile again.
“Thanks,” Suki says.
Wow, Yue manages to think, her eyes are so brown. Suki still hasn’t moved her hand from where it’s just barely resting on Yue’s, and her hands are warm and rough. They feel strong. Can someone’s hands feel strong?
“Your other cards are flying away,” Sokka notes from where he’s examining the strawberry baskets. “It’s nice you both got that one, but there are others.”
Suki startles, hand jolting away from Yue’s. “Oh- yeah, thanks, Socks.” She starts to scramble to collect the other half-dozen, leaving Yue to stand and put the clover honey sign back next to the jar. Suki rejoins them only a second later, starting to replace the signs with a sigh.
“Ugh, I knew I was forgetting something. They’re all just going to blow away again in a minute.”
Yue looks around. Most of the other farmers have rocks painted with their prices or the cost stickered onto the product itself. “You need something to hold it down with, right? Do you have tape?”
“No,” Suki says mournfully. “Just a few dollar bills for change and my leather jacket.”
Leather jacket. Maybe Yue should come here again one it’s colder.
The weather might not end up turning today, though, it’s practically beach weather. Another day. “Oh!” she says, mind flashing to the beach glass in her bag, “I have just the thing.” She spills the multicolored glass onto the table and it shimmers in the sun. An experimental placement shows that they can keep the papers down easily, only letting the top corners flutter a little.
Suki’s face breaks into a grin again and she hurriedly helps Yue set up the last few, only switching a few of the honey labels around when Yue sets them in the wrong places.
Their hands brush a few more times, but Yue studiously doesn’t think about it for more than a second. Sokka watches the whole thing with a decidedly amused expression.
“Thank you,” Suki finally says, “you’re a lifesaver.”
Sokka clears his throat and Yue elbows him. Like you did anything.
“Thank you too, Sokka,” Suki says, grinning like she thinks saying thank you to Sokka for doing nothing is just as funny as Sokka thinks it is. “Seriously, today would have been so much messier if you guys weren’t here. It’s my first time actually selling my honey, and I was a little nervous.”
Sokka eyes the basket of honey sticks in a mason jar, labeled with a cute drawing of a bee doing a loop-de-loop over 50¢ in neat print. “I mean, I wouldn’t object to you giving us some honey sticks as a thank you.”
“Oh my god, totally. Take three. Honestly, I’m going to end up eating like ten today, those are so good.” Suki laughs again and Yue blushes.
“Liquid gold,” Sokka agrees, alreading tugging the top of one open with his teeth.
“Any reward you’re looking for, savior of my day?” Suki asks Yue, one hand braced on the table and the other finger-combing her hair out of her face. “The dark buckwheat honey tastes really good on crepes, if that’s something you’re interested in. I mean, I can probably only give you a discount, ‘cause Ty Lee’s girlfriend spent half-an-hour this morning telling me that I had to actually make money today, but still.”
Sokka side eyes Yue.
“Um,” says Yue, “Actually, could I have your number?” It takes every ounce of confidence she has to keep her face relatively neutral instead of squishing up her face in preemptive armor against possible rejection, but Suki’s face breaks into a wide grin and she almost sparkles.
“I’m so glad you asked for mine, oh my god. I have this thing where I like, only make the first move with guys, and Ty Lee says it’s dumb and I think it’s dumb, too, honestly, but girls are so much scarier, and you’re gorgeous -” Suki breaks off and blushes. “Anyway,” she says, and ducks behind the counter for a thin scrap of paper and a blue ballpoint pen.
She hands over a honey stick and the paper a second later, now with her number written in the same blocky print that’s on the signs. “We should hang out sometime,” she says cheerfully, “I can show you the strawberry field.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Yue says, just a tiny bit breathlessly. It does sound wonderful, like something out of the romance novels that Sokka always tries to persuade her to stop reading. “I, uh, would you tell me about the differences between the honeys?”
“!!” Suki says. “I’d love to, oh my god, thank you for asking-”
Sokka throws Yue a smile. “I’m gonna go get my cheese curds,” he says, “but you have to give me a honey report when I get back.”
Yue presses a kiss to his cheek and then turns back to lean against the table and focus her attention on Suki. Suki smiles at her, eyes bright and excited to talk to Yue.
Yue grins back. “Okay, so, to start, which is the best on toast?”