Lieumon Week, 'flirt' prompt

[greedyslayer]

Title: degrees of attention

Summary: Genderbent!Amon AU. Who says chivalry is dead?

A/N: For Lieumon week, prompt 'flirt.' Inspired by harpalyce to consider genderbending Amon. But genderbent!actually-scarred-nonbender!Amon because why not. XD Even more specifically, pretty much the genderbent version of Amon in my 'misbegotten sons' fic continuity. This actually takes place in an genderbent alternate of chapter 3 continuity, where a fourteen-year-old Amon first meets a Lieu (Amon doesn't refer to him as Lieutenant yet) in his 20s and around Tarrlok's age. And due to that age difference, this pretty much just focuses on Amon and Lieu's friendship (though when Amon's older....).

Dislcaimer: I own nothing related to the Legend of Korra.

Lieu waited for Amon; they'd be actually eating out tonight. Sort of. He'd finally learned the young girl didn't really feel comfortable eating in public places, even uncovering her face just enough to eat was something she didn't like to do in front of people. Lieu felt he should've realized that the very first time after she'd pretty much saved his life, but no, like an idiot, he'd invited her to coffee to answer her questions about why he'd been attacked. His one saving grace was that he realized just in time to try to get the most secluded table in the cafe.

But, fresh air would be good. They'd just pick up their food and find somewhere private outside to eat. Lieu had deemed they'd eaten too much take out while busy in the workshop, and that they'd just been cooped up in there too long.

Finally Lieu saw Amon, and he began to wave to her. The masked girl didn't notice, attention focused on some men. They were flushed, one held a bottle. They called to her, reached for her. Pawing. One drew too close, and Amon easily sidestepped him. Her stance appeared neutral, even casual, but Lieu could see the readiness in her body, the readiness that had let her evade so easily. Lieu approved, even as his blood boiled while he began to approach her location.

One of the drunks earthbent, trying to catch Amon's booted foot. She sidestepped that easily too, but Lieu still saw red. He bolted forward, immediately punching the bender's nose in.

Another drunk shouted and began to sloppily firebend, until Amon slipped in and chiblocked him. The rest ran, and Lieu started to give chase--until he felt a small but strong hand grab him. "Can we just go?"

The older man looked at the adolescent, anger still twisting his face. He tried to soften his expression as he looked down at Amon. It wasn't that she looked disturbed; she looked fine, composed. But she still had to look quite a ways up to stare at him so.

"Of course."

They took a trolley to one of the streets near the park, one that would be packed with food vendors at this time. After perusing many stalls, Lieu and Amon settled on completely splurging with a box of sushi and a large bottle of pineapple-orange juice.

The two walked to the park, where the number of people thinned out in the evening. They settled by the lake, and talked about the Painted Lady radio play they'd been listening to while in the workshop as they popped in their sushi.

"You don't usually let your hair breathe," he noted. Much of the time Amon wrapped her entire head in cloth wrappings, but tonight she had wrapped it so that it covered her face, but her hair was allowed to flow out. Not that it had much to flow with per se, coming only to her shoulders and still rather roughly cut.

"Well, we were going out. Sort of," she said. Amon picked at the beads of rice surrounding her koi-shrimp.

"That's never happened to me before." Lieu lowered his chopsticks, his face darkening. He stared when Amon gave a light chuckle. "Those guys were so drunk, thinking I was pretty enough to--but they were probably just messing with me." Amon shook her head, chuckling again, then took another gulp of pineapple-orange juice.

Lieu chewed over another piece of sushi as he considered. He swallowed, then softly said, "That's definitely not the sort of attention you want. But someday there'll be people who'll--"

"--think that I'm pretty?" Amon asked, her eyes and voice flat. The girl tightly gripped the neck of the bottle she still had in hand. "Look at me, do I look--?"

She cut herself off, muttering angrily.

Lieu did. Other than letting her hair down, the girl looked as she occasionally did--wearing a leather skirt and dark leggings and long coat, sewn patches here and there. Her one pair of boots. But more often she favored wearing trousers.

"You look like a young woman, already on her way to being someone strong and capable, and most of all kind," Lieu simply said.

Amon stared at the older man. Cat-owlishly blinked. Then she popped in another piece of sushi and changed the topic.