A/N: Hi, FlYiNgPiGlEtS here. I'm 14 years late to this fandom, but I started watching Avatar for the first time last month and I'm obsessed, so I decided to try writing some fanfic for the show. It's been ages since I've posted anything on this site so I'm super nervous. Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate comments. Thanks for reading! :)

Episode Tags: Set during Season 3, after 'The Ember Island Players' but before 'Sozin's Comet (Part 1)'.

Truth or Dare: During their stay on Ember Island, the Gaang decide to infiltrate a house party for "top-secret information" about the Fire Lord's plan. Predictably, the mission goes awry while Zuko and Katara are busy playing a game of Truth or Dare on the beach.


"I think we should go to a Fire Nation party," Sokka announces one night while they're eating dinner in the courtyard.

The campfire they're gathered around flutters, and Katara raises an eyebrow at Zuko. But Zuko only glares at the flames, as if they have committed a grave betrayal against him, and Katara doesn't dwell – cannot dwell – because it's never a good idea to let Sokka misinterpret silence for approval.

"Uh, Sokka," Katara says, "Do you remember what happened the last time we were at a Fire Nation Party?"

Suki stares at Sokka. "You went to a Fire Nation party?"

"Don't ask," Toph mutters.

"Ah, but we were the hosts last time," Sokka interjects, "It's no fun being the host. You have to make sure everyone's having a good time but also not breaking any of your stuff. This time, we'll be guests!"

Katara just blinks across the fire at him. "But… why?"

"When I was at the market today, I heard these two guys talking about a big party tomorrow night," Sokka began.

"Oh, those really tall guys with the mangoes?" Suki interrupts.

"They weren't that tall, and they were buying papayas, not mangoes, a clearly inferior fruit," Sokka says, his voice pitching higher in indignation. Suki smirks, but holds her hands up, and Sokka continues: "Anyway, I overheard them talking about this party tomorrow night, and apparently it's the place to be. A bunch of ministers' kids are even heading here to Ember Island for it."

"And?" Katara prompts.

"Their parents are on the Fire Lord's war council," Sokka replies.

"Good for them," Toph says, "So what?"

"So they might have overheard something about the Fire Lord's evil master plan to destroy the entire world?"

Suki tips her head, considering this. "Reconnaissance. It could be helpful."

Sokka grins soppily. "You just get me, Suki."

"It might be fun to take the night off," Aang says, ever the optimist, "They might even have fire flakes!"

Toph shrugs. "Can't be worse than the Ember Island Players."

A collective shudder ripples through the group.

Katara chews her bottom lip. For a moment, she looks at Zuko. She can't help it. His eyes are still on the fire, a molten gold in the warm light it casts. "I don't know, Sokka. It sounds risky, and it's not like they'll all be sitting around discussing Ozai's plan. It is a party, after all."

Sokka groans loudly. "You always spoil our fun."

"Fun and the Fire Nation? There's no correlation."

"Zuko, cover your ears!" Sokka gasps.

"No, Katara's right," Zuko speaks up at last, dragging his eyes away from the fire, "It's too risky."

Katara feels warm, as if someone's stoked the fire; it's nice to have an ally, for once.

But then Toph sets her bowl aside and sits up straighter at the second mention of risk, and Katara knows the battle is lost. "Sounds like fun to me."

"They might have some top-secret information that's key to defeating the Fire Lord," Sokka declares, "You wanna miss out on that?"

"What if we give away our location? We're meant to be hiding. From Azula, in case you've forgotten," Katara argues, "What if she's there?"

"She won't be," Zuko says quietly.

Sokka points across the fire at him. "See, Zuko wants to go!"

Zuko throws up his arms in exasperation. "That's not what I–"

"Why don't we have a vote?" Sokka suggests. "Everyone in favour of going to the party, raise your hand."

Sokka and Toph instantly throw their hands up. Suki rolls her eyes at her boyfriend's enthusiasm, but nonetheless raises her hand, too. Aang casts his affirmative vote slowly, glancing guiltily at Katara and Zuko, the only two not to raise their hands, as he does so. But it's four to two. They're outnumbered.

"Are you gonna argue with democracy, Katara?" Sokka taunts.

Katara sighs. "Fine. But this won't end well."

"Oh, yeah!" Sokka punches the air. "Let's get ready to par-tay!"


The party is so full, no one questions their arrival. The house is nearly as big as the Fire Lord's, and all the doors are thrown open, letting guests flow from room to room, and out onto the balconies or the beach. They shuffle towards the table, where there's a large bowl of something that looks alcoholic, surrounded by wooden cups. There are snacks, too: slices of papaya, pig-chicken skewers, and–

"Fire flakes!" Sokka exclaims, and promptly shovels a handful into his mouth.

"Slow down!" Katara tells him.

Sokka's eyes widen a moment later. He swallows with difficulty before sticking his tongue out and attempting to fan it with his hands. "Hot! I forgot how hot those things are!"

Suki ladles some of the alcohol from the bowl into a cup and hands it to him. "Here."

Katara crosses her arms. Another time, she'd feel vindicated by Sokka's suffering. But she's on-edge. They're surrounded by strangers and drowning in Fire Nation red: the house's décor, the regalia of the guests, even their own clothes. All of her instincts scream to turn away from this place, before it's too late, before they're revealed and captured and handed over to Azula.

Sokka drinks the entire cup and then looks approvingly at the bowl. "That stuff's gooood."

Suki fills his cup again, then prepares one for herself. She samples the drink more patiently than Sokka. "Hmm. Not bad."

Toph pushes closer to the table. "Let me try some."

Zuko catches her by the shoulders and tries to steer her away. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, Sparky," Toph jeers, "It's our night off."

"You're twelve," Zuko says.

Toph spins around to face him, putting her hands on her hips. "You take that back!"

"Toph, he's right. You are twelve years old." Katara wants to scream. She wants to drag them all out of here by the ears. But she keeps her voice level, so they don't draw attention. "Please don't drink that. You too, Aang. And you should be setting a better example, Sokka!"

Sokka takes the cup out of Suki's hand. He sets both their drinks back down on the table. "Yeah, Suki, we should be setting a better example!" Then he leans forward and, still loud enough for Katara to overhear, whispers to his girlfriend: "We'll come back for those later."

"I think we should leave," Katara declares.

"But we just got here!" Aang protests.

Katara shoots him an angry glare, and Aang cowers slightly.

"We can't leave now," Sokka says, "It'll look suspicious."

"Oh, yeah, because we don't already look suspicious." Katara gestures angrily with her hands. "Look at Aang's hat!"

Aang lifts his hands to his hat, looking heartbroken. "I thought you liked my hat."

"I do! I do, Aang, but it doesn't exactly scream, we belong here."

"He looks more normal than Zuko, and he's the Prince of the Fire Nation," Sokka protests.

"Shh!" Katara hisses.

Zuko glares from beneath the hood of his black cloak. "I'm not taking this off."

"We should never have come here," Katara says.

Sokka lifts his chin and stands his ground. "Well, I'm having a good time."

"Me too," Suki adds with a shrug.

Toph stomps her foot. "Me three."

"Maybe we could stay for a little while longer?" Aang suggests.

Aang looks at her with his wide, grey eyes and she sighs, defeated. It's unfair, really, his ability to worm through her defences. She knows she over-indulges him, and she knows it will probably get them in trouble someday, if not today. But she can't refuse him. "Fine. But at the first sign of trouble–"

"Can I have your attention, please?" One of the Fire Nation kids, who is probably the same age as Zuko, shouts from the centre of the room. His eyes rove over the crowd and catch briefly on their little group, assembled by the table. Katara holds her breath. She feels Zuko tense beside her, his arm brushing against hers as he draws an anticipatory breath. So soon? She thinks. Have we really been discovered so soon?

But then the guy claps his hands together and grins, his gaze moving elsewhere.

"As your most gracious host..." he executes an extravagant bow, earning the audience's applause. Katara rolls her eyes and fights a smile when she notices Zuko doing the same. Their host resumes his speech: "I promised the party of the year, and I intend to deliver. So for one night, and one night only, please welcome the Red Hot Fire Flakes!"

"Who?" Katara asks Zuko.

Zuko shrugs. "Never heard of them."

The band shuffle onto a raised platform with an odd collection of instruments. Katara recognises some of them, but she's quickly distracted by Zuko's reaction.

"Not the tsungi horn," Zuko groans.

Katara can't help it; she smiles, only for a moment. That doesn't mean she's having fun, not in the slightest. Zuko catches her and glowers, but she sees his lips twitch with mirth, too. He's tense as well, but it eases when he looks at her.

"Dance like there is no one watching!" the host continues, with the same overdramatic flare. "Dance like there is no tomorrow!"

"Dance like it's been outlawed for a hundred years!" Sokka yells, raising one of the cups he'd put aside.

"Sokka!" Katara hisses.

Sokka lowers the cup sheepishly. His cheeks are flushed red. "I think I might be a little drunk."

"Already?" Suki smirks.

But the host's grin is even wider than before. "Precisely, my friend! Dancing is back from the dead and tonight, we're gonna let the music take over!"

Zuko's palm meets his face. Katara can't decide whether she wants to laugh or hit Sokka over the head with the ladle, which is close to hand, a rare opportunity. She decided on the latter when, emboldened, Sokka cups his mouth with his hands and lets out an excited whoop. The rest of the room join in, even Suki and Toph and Aang, building and building while the band gets ready to play. Soon, there's a whole chorus of cheers, begging for the music to begin. The band lift their instruments. The party guests reach their crescendo.

And then the music starts.

It's fast, like the dance party in the cave, but this time, there is far less resistance. The middle of the room becomes the dance floor. The guests are quickly finding partners or dancing in groups, stomping along with the music, clapping and shouting and laughing. Katara tries to disapprove, but it's a fun kind of chaos.

Aang offers his hand shyly to Katara. "Hey, uh, do you want to dance?"

"Sure, Twinkle Toes," Toph declares, taking Aang's hand and dragging him towards the makeshift dance floor before he can protest.

Katara is strangely relieved. Zuko's presence by her side is overbearing, and she tells herself it's just his oversized, gloomy cloak that makes him stand out. But for some reason, when she thinks about dancing in front of him, her cheeks flush. When she thinks about dancing with him, the house is suddenly far too hot.

"Well, now that the kids are gone," Sokka says, retrieving his and Suki's cups, "Cheers!"

Sokka and Suki knock their cups together in a toast. Sokka drinks his all in one go. Suki wisely exercises more restraint.

"Sokka, no!" Katara protests.

"I'm older than you." Sokka points at her, but he can't seem to focus, and his finger wavers between his sister, Suki and Zuko. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Fine, but don't come crying to me tomorrow when your head hurts," Katara snaps.

Sokka pouts, but he struggles to remain serious. "Don't cut me off from the healing well!"

"The healing well has run dry."

"Katara," Sokka whines.

"Enjoy your night." And then, for emphasis, she storms away.

She feels bad about leaving Zuko, but she's not far away when she hears him mutter to Sokka and Suki: "I'm going to find a dark, empty corner." It's probably for the best that they split up. His presence is the most dangerous; he could be recognised as the Prince of the Fire Nation. Maybe that's why she's feeling nervous around him. Nothing to do with the warmth of his understanding or the begrudging amusement they shared when the band emerged.

Katara decides to watch the dancing. She can see Aang and Toph spinning in the middle of the dance floor, giggling, seeming to be having a good time. At least they're happy; they've been working hard, and they deserve a break. She just wishes it was a less risky break. They're pushing 'hiding in plain sight' to its limits.

The thought threatens to overwhelm her. This has to be the worst idea Sokka's ever had. They're too close to Sozin's comet to risk everything like this. She would have rather spent the night on the beach near their hideout, the cool sand beneath their toes and the stars stretching over their heads. She wants to be around her friends as much as possible. She is so scared of losing them that she feels like time apart, or arguing, is a terrible waste.

But she can't help her aggravation at them. Every time she tries to take a break, a knot forms in her chest and balloons into this restless, insatiable thing. She feels it happening now. They have no time to waste. She envies Aang and Toph and Sokka and Suki their freedom from this anxiety. She cannot escape it, even when she knows there is nothing left to do, not today. It doesn't matter what she does tonight. A few hours off won't mean the difference between victory and destruction.

Eventually, she can stand it no longer. The house sprawls out around her, bustling with strangers, and she stumbles along a corridor, looking for air. She ends up in what appears to be a large powder room, complete with plush couches and tall, elegant mirrors. She stops and stares at herself, trying to breathe.

"He's such a good dancer," she hears someone whisper behind her.

Two girls are sitting on a couch in the corner of the room. One looks a little like Azula, and it scares her. But they are ordinary Fire Nation girls, gossiping about the party.

"I can't believe he can dance," her friend agrees, "I can't believe that everyone is out there dancing right now."

"Apparently, Kaito's little sister went to this dance party in a cave and the school masters caught them all and when she came home for the holidays, their parents were furious. Then On Ji taught Kaito all of her moves, and they both got grounded for an eternity."

"What, like when your Mom caught you sneaking out that time?"

"Worse."

Katara smiles at herself in the mirror. Something in her chest loosens a little. There has to be some compromise, she tells herself. She has to believe that not everyone in the Fire Nation is cruel. If she gives in to her hatred, then what future can she craft from the hope of victory?

"I wish I could dance," murmurs one of the girls, "I just feel… I don't know. Like a clumsy, newborn ostrich horse."

Her friend laughs, but not unkindly. "You're not an ostrich horse."

But the girl hugs herself despondently. "I'm scared that everyone will watch and think I'm silly. Where do you even start? What do you do with your arms?"

"I know. I've never been so aware of my own arms before."

Katara doesn't even think. She turns around and smiles and says: "If you want, I could show you a few moves."

It's ridiculous. As soon as she realises what she's said, her cheeks flush and she wants to run out of there, all the way back to their hideout, and not look another human being in the eye for at least a week. But the two girls exchange a look, and then they smile, shy but not unhappy.

"Um, well…" Katara doesn't know where to start, at first. But then she remembers that she's a Master Waterbender. She's taught the Avatar, she's travelled the world, she's faced more dangerous foes than dancing. "This is always a good go-to."

The girls are good students. What they lack in confidence, they make up for in dedication, and soon their technique improves as well. By the end of Katara's impromptu lesson, they're both grinning.

"Thank you so, so much!" they both say, and then they all but run back to the party in their eagerness to show off what they've learned.

Katara sits down on the couch they've vacated. She can still see herself in the mirror, but she hates the red Fire Nation dress that she wears less viscerally now. The hard seed of hate inside of her is cracking open, blooming into something like hope.


When Katara returns to the party, Toph and Aang are still dancing. To her dismay, Sokka has found a seat at the gambling table, and they're playing what appears to be a speedy version of pai sho. Suki is sitting in his lap, holding their drinks and giving instructions like an overeager war general. When someone makes a move, the audience erupts in shouts of protest or praise. It looks like a game made more intense, but less coherent, by alcohol.

The tightness in her chest snaps back into place when she realises they're playing for money. Sokka is enthusiastically throwing coins into the pot, adding even more when the crowd shouts for him to up the ante. They've got hardly any money left, and Sokka's is already irresponsible with it, always coming back from the market with things they don't need.

She fully intends to stomp over there and drag Sokka away. But a cloaked figure steps out of the shadows, and she feels a hand close softly around hers. She looks up and sees Zuko's shadowed face.

"It's not real money," he tells her quietly.

His thumb brushes against the inside of her wrist. She shudders. He notices and releases her hand.

"Oh. Well," Katara stutters, "I suppose that's okay then."

"I looked for you." His eyes search her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just…"

"Feel like a Komodo Rhino is sitting on your chest?"

Katara laughs humourlessly. "How did you know?"

Zuko shrugs. Their eyes meet and hold. Since he helped her to find the Southern Raiders, there's been this string between them, a tug Katara doesn't know how to interpret. He has seen the most terrible facets of her. She has seen the worst of him, too. And yet, somehow, they are friends. It seems to defy all the rules she once set herself. But she likes it.

She likes him.

"Someone's watching us," Zuko says under his breath.

"Who?" Katara follows his gaze, and then laughs. It's the two girls she met in the bathroom, giggling scandalously at how closely she is standing to Zuko. "Oh, they're my friends."

Zuko's single eyebrow lifts in surprise. "Friends?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Katara replies, "I know how to make friends."

He smiles. It's fond, and she likes it as much as she likes him. Which is a lot. She thinks maybe the heat is making her silly.

"Dance with me," she blurts.

"Uh, I–I'm not… I don't…" Zuko clears his throat, looking close to denying her. But he must see something in her eyes. Maybe it's her embarrassment, her fear of rejection. Maybe it's something that sparkles more like lust. "If you'll show me how, then… yeah. Okay."

She takes his hand in hers again. They move smoothly through the crowd, dodging the more enthusiastic dancers and finding a calmer circle near the middle of the dance floor. But just as they're about to start dancing, the music changes.

The speed has slowed considerably. A few people groan and vacate the dance floor. Others find partners, hold each other close and begin swaying to the music. Katara and Zuko stare at each other, and she doesn't know who is more mortified. But they don't move.

It feels like an eternity. Maybe the song will pass quickly, and they can pretend they didn't spend the entirety of it staring at each other. But then Zuko surprises her. He takes a step towards her. When he reaches for her hands, she is already mirroring him. His hand is warm in hers and against her back. She feels the callouses of his palm against her skin, in the space between her top and her skirt. She leans into him, but she turns her face down, staring at his chest rather than his face. She's not sure what would happen if she looked him in the eye.

They move with the music. But it's awkward, and she steps on his toe when she misinterprets a beat of the song.

She cringes. "Sorry! Sorry."

"I can handle it," he says nobly, and she can hear the smile in her voice, "I've suffered worse from you."

She chuckles. Now, she can bring herself to look at his chin. It's only a slight improvement, but progress nonetheless.

"Do you learn to dance?" Katara asks. "You know, when you were in royalty school or whatever."

"No, I didn't learn to dance. It's only recently come back into fashion after a cave party, or so I've heard." She sees the way his head tips in interest, clearly looking for the story behind the recent resurgence of Fire Nation dances.

"Rumours are so funny, aren't they?" Katara muses.

He smirks. "Yeah. Rumours."

"Well, you're not bad. At this. Dancing, I mean."

He coughs, his cheeks pinking slightly. "Uh… thank you."

"Thank you," she murmurs, and finally looks him in the eye. The sight of molten gold loosens the knot in her chest. She feels lighter. "For dancing with me."

Before either can speak again, the music stops. The band's leader says something about the romantic interlude being over, and then they return to playing the fast, jolting music that came before. Katara and Zuko break apart.

She bows to him, as if they've just sparred. As if he's a dancing sifu, a though that makes her want to laugh and also be swallowed up by the earth. Maybe Toph could arrange that. He looks surprised, and his cheeks are still a little red, but he returns the gesture.

They get separated. The dancers have formed what looks like a long-bodied dragon formation, holding onto each other's shoulders and snaking through the house's open rooms. Aang is at the head of this procession, Toph at the back, both of them merrily shouting instructions.

Like a tide, this strange dance pulls Katara and Zuko away from each other. They are pushed backwards, to opposite walls of the room. But their eyes remain locked on each other over the heads of the dancers. When he starts moving towards one of the doors, she follows. The music, the heat, it becomes secondary. Only Zuko exists; the rest are shadows, barely brushing against her consciousness. She mirrors him, all the way to the door, and then they walk silently out to the beach.

The breeze is cool. It lifts her hair, tickles her neck and stomach and lower back. She sighs in relief.

"That's better," she says, closing her eyes.

They sit down near the water. She buries her feet in the sand, using her hands to scoop it over her toes, all the way up to her ankles. It is cool, and it tickles, and it reminds her to be present, to think about now rather than what if?

"I hate parties," Zuko says.

"Have you been to many?" Katara asks.

Zuko's eyes flash, as if remembering something unpleasant. "Enough."

"What do you usually do at parties?"

"Hide," he replies, "You?"

"Well, we didn't really have parties. There weren't many of us, after… but when I was little, my parents would hold these gatherings, and while the adults had their fun, me and my friends would sneak off to play silly games."

"Like what?" He seems genuinely interested.

She wraps her arms around her legs. "Like truth or dare. That was my favourite."

"Truth or dare," he says slowly, like he is testing those words. Truth. Dare. He lies back on the sand, folding his hands over his stomach, and stares at the moon. "That sounds… dangerous."

Katara throws her head back and laughs. "You've fought against your sister how many times now, and you think a game of truth or dare sounds dangerous?"

He smiles, too. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that she mentioned his sister. "What are the rules?"

"Of truth or dare?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't they self-explanatory?"

He rolls his eyes lazily, still looking up at the night sky. But his smile remains fond.

"Well, you get to choose: truth or dare," Katara explains anyway, "If you chose truth, the person asking can pick any question, and you have to answer it honestly. If you chose dare, then you have to do whatever the person asking tells you to."

"Sounds very dangerous," Zuko amends.

Katara feels excitement bubbling in her stomach. It's not nervousness, for once. It's not fear. She likes this strange line they are toeing.

"Wanna play?" she asks.

Zuko eyes her from his reclined position. After a long silence, he says: "Who should go first?"

"You ask first," she says, "Since you're the novice."

"Novice. Okay." He chuckles.

"Well, have you ever played before?"

"No."

"Then you're a novice."

"Is there any skill involved?"

"I guess you'll find out," she retorts.

"Fine," he assents, smiling, "Truth or dare, Katara?"

She meets his eyes. "Truth."

"Your necklace," he murmurs, seriousness returning, "What does it mean?"

Katara's hand moves instinctively to touch the necklace, but she's not wearing it because it's too obviously Water Tribe. A cold emptiness settles over her. "It's a betrothal necklace. Pakku, the Waterbending Master of the Northern Water Tribe, made it for my grandmother, and she gave it to my mother, and my mother gave it to me. It's all I have left of her."

His cheeks look flushed, even under the sallow light of the half-moon. She knows he's remembering the time he fastened it around her neck. I'll save you from the pirates. She had hated him then. She didn't know how he'd felt about her. In all likelihood, he had hated her too, for standing in his way.

"I'm sorry. For trying to blackmail you with it," Zuko whispered, "I'm sorry for everything."

She nods, letting him know that she accepts his apology. She shuffles in the sand, watching as it cascades off the bridges of her feet. "Truth or dare, Zuko?"

"Truth."

"Will you tell me about your mother?"

Zuko's eyes cut to hers. He doesn't look surprised. He looks calm, almost, like he expected her to ask. Wanted her to ask. "My mother's name is Ursa. She left when I was young, and I think I've forgotten things about her. Important things. It used to make me angry, trying to remember. Now it just… it makes me sad. But I do remember that she was kind. Protective. She taught me never to give up. To never lose sight of who I am. She liked turtleducks, and poetry, and I think she used to be an actress before she married my father. I found some of her masks after she left."

She forms an image of Ursa. Zuko's mother. It was hard to imagine him having a mother, when he'd been chasing her. She thinks about Ba Sing Se and the crystal caves and how that was the first time she saw him as more than an enemy. The first time he had seemed whole to her, a person rather than a phantom.

"I think she's still alive," he whispers to the sky, to the listening stars.

Katara's eyes widen. "But I thought you said…"

"I really thought she was gone. But on the day of Black Sun, I confronted my father. I told him I was leaving to join the Avatar, and he asked why I didn't kill him right then. I had my swords, and he was vulnerable. I knew it wasn't my destiny. I was going to leave, but then he asked me if I wanted to know what happened to my mother. I stayed. He said she did vicious, treasonous things to protect me, and that he banished her afterwards." Zuko lifts his finger, then lets it fall against his chest again. "She's out there."

"Have you ever thought about looking for her?"

His lips twitch, but he doesn't smile. "Is this another truth?"

She nods.

"Yes. I thought about looking for her straight away. But this – training Aang, defeating my father – it has to come first," he replies.

"After this is over, we'll look for her."

"Katara," he murmurs her name, and the sound travels along her spine, kisses the hairs at the base of her neck.

"Isn't that what you want? To look for her?"

"More than anything. But–"

"Then I'll help."

His uncertainty melts away. Slowly, he smiles. "Thank you."

She returns his smile.

"Truth or dare?" he asks her.

"Truth."

"The caves under Ba Sing Se," he begins, and she holds her breath, "You told me you had water from the Spirit Oasis. What happened to it?"

Katara shivers, although it's not a cold night. "I used it to heal Aang after Azula struck him with lightning."

Zuko nods. He seemed to draw comfort from her answer. "I thought so. I'm glad."

"I'm glad, too," Katara admits. It's the truth, although it feels heavy on her tongue. "Aang would have died without it. But maybe if we'd had more time, maybe if I had healed your scar… sometimes, I think things could have been different."

"What I did to you. To my uncle…" Zuko closes his eyes for a moment. "It's my greatest regret."

"You're learned from it. And you're here now."

"I don't know where my uncle is." Zuko sounds so young when he says this, and she wants to reach for him, take his hand in hers.

"We'll find him, too. I promise." She glances at him. "It's your turn to ask again. You gave me two truths, last time."

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Does anyone choose dare?" Zuko asks, mock-exasperated.

"Is that your question?"

"It's more of an inquiry."

"Maybe I like speaking to you," she admits, "Maybe I want to stay here and talk about our secrets all night."

Zuko is quiet. He looks at her, his eyes warm.

"Ask," she whispers.

"Would you have ended me?" he asks. "If I betrayed you again, would you do it?"

"I don't know." She hugs her knees to her chest. "I was scared when I said that. I thought you might hurt Aang, and that terrified me. I didn't sleep for a week after you arrived at the Western Air Temple."

"I noticed," he murmurs. There is the ghost of concern in his eyes, and she wonders just how much he watched her then. How much he watches her now.

"I could do it quickly. Bloodbending… you saw." She rests her cheek on her knee and looks at him. "If I did do it, I think I would have hated myself for it eventually. I was just so angry and scared. I wanted you to be scared, too."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be."

"But I am." She shuffles a little closer to him. "Truth or dare?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

"Truth, then?"

He nods once.

"This stupid Fire Nation dress," she says, trying for lightness as she tugs at one of the sleeves, but she feels self-conscious, like they are back at the party, in a room full of strangers. "Does it make me look weird?"

This time, he is surprised by her question. He looks somewhat flustered, and it takes him a while to formulate a response. "No. Not weird. You look… different." His eyes widen, and he hastily adds: "But in a nice way! Blue is the colour of your element, and I'll always think of it when I think of you. But red suits you, too."

Katara doesn't know what to say. She is silent, basking in his compliment. She continues to rest her cheek against her knee, and he meets her gaze. Their eyes hold each other for a long time.

"Your hair," he whispers.

She pulls her hair over one shoulder, looking at it in confusion. "My… hair?"

"I, um… I really like it," he continues awkwardly, "All the time. But…" he reaches out, tentative, and plays with a strand of hair that cascades over her shoulder. "But especially like this." He says the last words so quietly that they are almost lost to the breeze. She sees them on his lips first.

There's a high-pitched laugh, echoing from the party, and it shatters the moment. They look away from each other.

"Truth or dare?" he asks her.

"Truth."

"My scar," he says, "Does it bother you?"

"No. No, Zuko." She twists towards him, folding her legs beneath her body, and the sand falls away from her feet. "It's a part of who you are. It shows that you've suffered, but also that you've overcome so much. And I think… I think you're beautiful."

He turns his face away. Only the eye not scarred by his father's flame is visible. "You don't have to say that."

"But I mean it."

"Katara."

"Zuko, look at me."

He looks.

"I mean it," she tells him, because it's true.

He doesn't smile. But his face relaxes, and she knows she has gotten through to him, made him understand.

"Truth or dare?"

He answers exactly how she wants him to, eyes glinting in the moonlight: "Dare."

Her heart thrums in anticipation. There is only this night, this moment. For the first time in as long as she can remember, she thinks of nothing else but the present. She is here.

"Kiss me," she says.

Zuko pushes up onto his elbows. He lifts one hand to her hair again, tracing the curls that frame her face, brushing his fingers against her cheek. His touch leaves a trail of heat behind, like a shooting star. She leans into it, and his hand cups her face, brings her lips to his.

The kiss is gentle, at first. He lingers, warm and waiting. He lets her initiate. When they both fall back onto the sand, it is her doing. The kiss builds slowly, until their patience runs out. And then the kiss becomes hungry and needy and Katara cannot think of anything else. He bites her lip, and she moans, whispers his name. Her body is alight. She never wants it to end.

"Katara!"

The panic in Aang's voice makes her think that he's seen her with Zuko. She rolls away, and Zuko sits up, and they stare at each other with shock and dread mingling on their faces.

"Katara!" Aang shouts again. And he then stumbles to a stop, noticing them sitting rigidly on the sand. "Oh, there you are. We need your help! Sokka's in trouble."

Katara stands quickly, brushing the sand off her body. Zuko does the same.

"What has Sokka done?" she demands.

"He's in a fight with some Fire Nation guys," Aang explains, "They say he cheated at pai sho."

"Is it possible to cheat at pai sho?" Katara looks at Zuko. She remembers that he mentioned the game, once. But when their eyes meet, all she can think about is the kiss, and the intensity of it forces her to look away from him.

"I don't know," Zuko replies, "I still don't understand the rules."

Katara starts heading towards the beach house. "Well, let's go and get him out of this mess."

They stride back to the house. It's a quick walk, made quicker by Katara's determination to defend Sokka. He got himself into this mess, of that she's sure, but there's no way she's going to let him face it alone. No matter what, she'll fight for him. And later, when the danger's passed, she'll tell him exactly how angry she is.

Back at the house, the music has stopped. The party guests are all gathered around what was the dancefloor, where Sokka now stands, Suki and Toph on either shoulder, facing two Fire Nation teenagers. One of them is the host. They are each holding what look like antique weapons, too decorative to be deadly, although that's not a chance Katara wants to take.

"Katara!" Toph exclaims. "You got here just in time for the duel!"

Katara stands between the Sokka and his new enemies. She crosses her arms. "There's not going to be a duel."

"I can take 'em," Sokka slurs, swinging the ceremonial sword in an uncoordinated arc and nearly cutting off his own top-knot.

Katara turns to the host, crossing her arms and giving him her most intimating look. It works; he looks somewhat cowed by her arrival. "What is the problem here?"

"He cheated," says the host, pointing his own sword shakily at Sokka.

"How?"

"He just did."

"He just did?" Katara echoes.

The host shuffles away, but one of his taller friends steps forward. "Yeah, he just did. This is our party. We make the rules."

"Sounds fair to me." Sokka has a slightly manic look in his eye, and he pushes Katara aside and sticks his face up to his enemy's. "Agni Kai!"

"Agni what?" Katara shrieks.

Zuko groans and covers his eyes. "Sokka."

"You're not a Firebender," Katara growls.

"Says who?"

"Says the universe!" Katara throws her hands up. She despairs of him. She despairs of all of them. She appeals to the host with a thin smile. "We're very sorry for the disturbance. We'll leave right away."

Sokka cracks his knuckles. "But I was only just getting started–"

"Come on, buddy." Zuko pats Sokka on the shoulder. "Let's go."

"Fine, fine." Sokka shrugs him off and turns in a disorientated circle so that he can address the gathered crowd. "But mark my words, I'll be back, and this guy here – yeah, the one that looks like he'll haunt you – he's a Firebending Master and he's gonna show me how to Agni Kai you into oblivion! You better be ready for the heat of my fury!"

"Yeah! You better be ready!" Toph cheers.

"I can't believe that's my boyfriend," Suki mutters.

"He doesn't mean it," Katara tells the host.

"Oh, I mean it!"

"Shut up, Sokka!" Katara tries to grin at the crowd, but it falls flat, and she sounds infinitely insincere as she herds her friends towards the door: "Bye! Thanks for the great party!"

They're nearly at the door. So close to freedom. So close. Katara almost believes they'll make it, until Toph elbows an ornate vase off a small table as they pass. It wobbles, tumbles, and shatters across the floor.

"Hey, that was an antique!" shouts the disgruntled host.

"Ha, that'll show them!" Toph crows.

"Yeah, you really struck a blow at the very heart of the Fire Nation," Zuko drawls.

"You want me to get more creative, Sparky?"

"No," Zuko tells her firmly.

Katara dares a glance over her shoulder. The host appears to be gathering a small group of his tallest, strongest friends, huddling together and plotting tactics like they're about to play a team sport. She hopes the team sport isn't chasing their group down and making them pay for the vase, because they really have no money left.

Just as they've made it to the beach, Katara hears: "After them!"

"Run!" Katara shouts, pushing Sokka forward. He nearly trips. "Everyone, run!"

All at once, they start running, the sand swirling unhelpfully beneath their feet. Zuko is the fastest, but he waits, making sure to keep Toph and Aang close-by. Suki is dragging Sokka along by his shirt.

Sokka looks green, even in the moonlight. "Running. Not good. Too much liquid in stomach. Suki, I'm gonna–" he ducks into a sand dune and promptly vomits. Suki cringes, but she pats him sympathetically on the back.

They've all stopped, now.

"Hurry up, Snoozles," Toph snaps.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this inconvenient for you? I'll just die here by myself. Leave me." Sokka sniffs loudly from dramatic effect, but his act is cut shorty by another round of violent vomiting.

"What should we do?" Katara looks desperately at Zuko.

Zuko glances between the group of angry Fire Nation kids running toward them and Sokka's miserable shadow in the sand dunes. "Hide. Toph, with me."

They duck into the sand dunes, each finding strategic positions among the grass. Aang brews a current of air, stirring the sand, lifting it as if an angry wind has blown in from the sea. The sand cackles, swirling low to the ground and deterring the Fire Nation kids from coming near.

"Urgh, I've got sand in my eyes!" one of them cries, and Katara covers her mouth so that she doesn't laugh.

"My hair's all messed up," another adds unhappily.

"Leave them," the host shouts, "They're not worth it! My father always hated that vase, anyway."

They wait until all of the Fire Nation kids have gone back to the house. Aang dissipates the wind and the sand settles. They sit up, scattered among the dunes, and look at each other in the silver moonlight. Toph starts laughing. Soon, they're all joining in. Maybe the party wasn't such a bad idea after all, Katara thinks. She hasn't heard them laugh like this in far too long. The sound warms her heart, and when she catches Zuko's eye, she feels the heat flood her entire body. He is smiling. She grins in return, and laughs and laughs until her stomach hurts.


The next morning, they're all sitting on the beach, eating jook and fruit for breakfast. Sokka, unusually, is abstaining from food. Instead, he lies across the sand with a cold compress over his eyes. He moans and, when no one pays him any attention, he increases the volume of his misery.

"Serves you right," Katara says.

"Heal me," Sokka groans, "Please."

Suki sits next to him, squeezing his shoulder. "She did warn you, Sokka."

"How are you fine?" Sokka asks her.

"I'm a Kyoshi Warrior." Suki squares her shoulders proudly. "I have many talents."

"Well, I had a great time last night," Toph declares.

"Me too!" Aang joins in enthusiastically.

"Don't talk so loud." Sokka is the picture of abject misery. "I'm feeling delicate."

"Did you enjoy yourself, Katara?" Aang asks.

Katara looks up from her bowl. Her eyes jump to Zuko, who is sitting away from the group, cutting up a mango with his dagger. He tackles the task with deadly precision, as if the mango is a vicious fiend who he is taking apart piece by piece.

"Um, yeah." Katara smiles shakily. "It was fun, I guess."

Toph and Aang begin arguing about what Earthbending forms they should go through today. Sokka is demanding to know whether the Kyoshi Warriors have been trained in immunity to poisons, and whether alcohol counts as such. When Katara looks for Zuko again, he is gone.

Katara stands. Her friends are too distracted to notice her departure, and she slips away easily. She finds him beneath a palm tree, learning against the trunk with his arms crossed, staring broodily out to sea. He glances at her when she stops next to him, but he doesn't speak.

"What happened last night was… it…" Katara takes a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that what happened last night. Shouldn't have. It shouldn't have happened. I got carried away, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," Zuko murmurs, "It was wrong."

"So wrong," Katara agrees, yet she takes a step closer to him.

"It won't happen again."

"Of course."

Zuko stares at her. His eyes are so intense, and she wishes she could step back in time, kiss him all over again.

"Unless…" she whispers.

"Unless," he echoes, his voice deep.

"Maybe just once more. If that's… if you want."

She is so close to him. When she reaches up to touch his face, he doesn't move away. Her fingertips brush against the edge of his scar. His eyes are locked on her. He bows his head, and she rises on her toes to meet him. They kiss slowly. She wants to savour this, in case it is the last time. Whether they chose not to pursue this tug between them, or if their world falls apart tomorrow in some cruel twist of fate, they might never be this close again.

So she lingers. She revels in the feel of his lips against hers, the way he calms beneath her touch. He leans into her, his hand brushing against her hip. Its stirs something warm and ticklish in her stomach, and she sighs, melting into him.

They break apart reluctantly. He leans his forehead against hers, and they stare into each other's eyes, looking for an answer. A future.

"I like you," he says quietly.

"I like you, too." She worries her bottom lip. "Maybe we could… chose a dare, this time, and see if this works out?"

"Sounds dangerous," he murmurs.

"Very dangerous."

"But we've faced worse." He plays idly with her hair, and she closes her eyes, lost in the soothing sensation of his fingers against her cheek, her ear, her chin, her throat. He kisses her forehead.

She opens her eyes again. "Far worse."

Zuko smiles, a small but content smile. Katara grins. She takes his hand in hers. They walked back to the group together, breaking apart when they get close enough to be seen. The jook is all gone, and so is Zuko's mango, stolen by Toph. But Zuko doesn't seem to mind. He sits down next to Katara.

"So," Sokka says, "Did anyone actually extract any information last night?"

"Didn't hear a thing," Suki replies.

"Wasn't even trying," Toph adds.

Aang shrugs with a carefree smile. "Sorry, Sokka."

"Ah, well." Sokka waves a hand nonchalantly. "There's always next time."

"There won't be a next time," Katara snaps.

Sokka begins to argue that she can't rule out the statistical probability of there being a next time. Suki rolls her eyes, Toph threatens to break more valuables, Aang talks happily about all the friends he made last night. Katara catches Zuko's eye. Her unexpected ally. She smiles and thinks: he doesn't know. He doesn't know how much she appreciates him.

Katara doesn't know what's coming. But she is whole, in this moment. There is no space inside of her for fear. She feels very daring, indeed.