Mikaela was sitting in the center of her living room with a part of carburetor in her lap and the rest of it lying in pieces around her. Her hair was pulled up into a sloppy ponytail and, in order to avoid the grease and general mess from the car parts, she only wore a simple, white t-shirt that was already stained with other grease and general mess from car parts, and a pair of jeans with the holes ripped out in the knees.
Needless to say, she wasn't planning on going out for the evening. Even if it was New Year's Eve.
Of course, part of that was due to the demons that were harassing her. Everytime she tried to leave her apartment after the shop had closed and her boss had gone home for the day, there they stood. Waiting. Watching. Smiling and waving in a patronizing manner until she went right back inside and bolted the door closed behind her.
The other reason she wasn't going out, however, was pretty simple. Mikaela just wasn't one for partying. Granted she had a bottle of champagne and intended on drinking a toast to, well, herself when the clock struck midnight. That was simply for good luck, though, rather than an urge to drink. And she certainly didn't intend on getting wild and crazy with the alcohol. She'd have her one glass, maybe two if she was feeling really crazy, and she'd give the rest to the homeless man on the corner in the morning. Otherwise it would just sit in her fridge and go flat and, really, that seemed like a waste when someone else would clearly enjoy it more than she ever would. That was neither here nor there, though. She still had an hour or so to go before 2005 arrived and she intended to spend that hour working on the carburetor and listening to the Hollywood New Years Extravaganza on the television.
Of course, as soon as the knock sounded at the door, she realized that may not be the case.
Assuming it was those demons, she rose wordlessly to her feet and grabbed the tire iron she'd begun keeping near her at all times. Holding it tightly in one hand, raised over her head in a batter's stance, she crept silently to her door and wrapped her hand around the doorknob. Exhaling slowly, and counting to five, she flung the door open and brought her weapon up higher so as to have more power when she brought it down straight into one of the demon's face.
Only, it wasn't the demons at all.
"Woah!" she exclaimed, the tire iron falling out of her hands and hitting the ground behind her with a loud clang. Her eyes widened slightly as she stared in mild shock at the man in her doorway. Finally, she smiled.
"Zuko, hey! Come on in." Stepping aside to grant him entrance into her (very) humble abode, she questioned almost as an afterthought, "What are you doing here?"