A/N: Someday I will write a fic of these two that actually has a somewhat-longer plot, but in the meantime, here they are in all their 11-year-old dorky glory.

Kai has perfected the art of the puppy face.

At this point, Jinora could probably write a field guide on his facial expressions, and one of the larger entries would be titled, "How to Spot Trouble From a Mile Away." At the same time, Jinora recognizes that there's a difference between knowledge and practice; just because she can tell when Kai is about to proposition something risky (and possibly dangerous), doesn't mean that she has necessarily learned to resist him.

Though she tries. Sort of.

She's sitting cross-legged in the pavilion, in the middle of an enthralling book, when she becomes aware of his approach. It isn't that she's attuned to him or anything—Kai just has a certain aura about him, a sly excitability that hovers in the air as soon as he walks into a room. At least, that's what she tries to play it off as. Korra's remarks about Jinora and Kai "having a connection" haven't exactly helped when it comes to Tenzin and his suspicious eye. Jinora sighs. After the adrenaline of their rescue wore off, the explanation for why she and Kai had been in the bison glade in the first place was not one of her easier conversations, and may have pushed back the chances of her getting her airbending tattoos by a few years. Or forty. Her father is a stubborn man.

"Whatcha reading?" asks Kai, settling beside her.

"A historical novel." Jinora keeps her tone aloof, flipping the page. In the past, she would have closed the book and excitedly launched into an explanation of the plot, but recently she has learned that Kai is too good at asking her questions and, all in all, carrying on a conversation. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, except for the fact that conversations with Kai inevitably leave her with a fuzzy feeling, which ultimately makes her more persuadable.

And she is not going to get dragged into one of his schemes today. Not when the rising action of this book has been so exciting, and the heroine is well on her way to a satisfying final confrontation and all the resulting rewards. She absolutely has to finish this book.

"Is that the one you started last night?" Kai wonders, twisting his neck upside down to get a peek at the cover.

"Yes."

"Wow, you're almost done. You read really fast," Kai says, wonderment creeping into his voice.

Jinora brings the book closer to her face, pretending to be entranced by the words on the page and trying not to blush. It's silly, how even the slightest hint of praise from Kai makes her feel like she'll just up and float away.

"So…" Kai begins, "if you're willing to take a break, I was thinking we could explore those old ruins we saw the other day."

"They might not be stable," Jinora points out.

"What's a few rocks? We can airbend," says Kai, throwing his arms out while he sprawls on his back in front of her. "I trust you, Jinora. We'll be totally fine."

"We have another obstacle course session in a few hours."

"It'll be quick," Kai counters. "We'll just scout it out, so we'll have a better idea of its layout for next time."

The "next time" triggers warning bells in Jinora's head, reminding her that agreeing to this means setting herself up for a fall down one slippery slope.

"I'm sorry, Kai," she says. "But I really want to finish this book."

Kai furrows his brow but doesn't object. Jinora returns to the sentence she was on. The escape from the clutch of Kai's green eyes is surprisingly anticlimactic—Kai simply falls silent, and Jinora can't help feeling the tiniest bit disappointed.

But she forgets that where she has patience, Kai has persistence. Barely a minute has passed before her book is snatched out of her hands—he's a thief, remember—Jinora reminds herself.

"Come on, Jinora," Kai says, his eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling earnestly. "I know you want to explore those ruins just as much as I do."

"Give me back my book, Kai," Jinora says, swiping at it. He dances out of her way easily, grinning from behind the safety of its cover.

"Not until you say you'll see the ruins with me!"

"We'll get in trouble!" she protests, getting to her feet.

"It'll be fine, Jinora," reassures Kai. "Just a bit of harmless fun. Your grandfather traveled all over the world—this is practically in your backyard."

Jinora sends a blast of air at him—he darts away easily, only to be swept off his feet by a gust from the side. Kai ends up sprawled on his back, laughing. "No fair, Jinora. I wasn't expecting that."

Jinora tugs her book out of his hands, standing over him smugly. "A good pupil is always prepared," she says in her best teacher-voice.

The corner of Kai's mouth tugs upward, crooked and off-kilter. (Jinora feels a little unbalanced, too.) "Lesson noted, Master."

Jinora helps him to his feet.

"So?" Kai presses again as he dusts off his clothes. "Can we go?"

Jinora looks at her book and heaves a long sigh. Honestly, she's become so distracted now that she isn't sure she'd be able to slip back into reading mode even if she wanted to. And Kai is staring at her with those eyes, equal parts eager and mischievous. It isn't fair that this works on her every single time. She tries to remember a quote about learning from the past, but gives up.

"I guess," she relents.

As they hop on their gliders and fly away, Jinora thinks that maybe, instead of focusing on how to spot trouble, she should just revise her goal to be "how not to get caught" instead.