A/N: So, I a huge Avatar fan. And it's quite shocking that I haven't done any fanfics of it yet. The reason? IT'S TOO GOOD ON ITS OWN. Of all the series I have ever watched or read, none have ever felt as astounding close to perfect as this. The only thing that's missing are a few, tiny moments from the end... having said that, they probably wouldn't have fitted in. I really wanted to see Katara and Aang's reunion, but surely she would have just hugged him and everyone else like she always does after something dangerous happens? It would have ruined the profoundness of their kiss. I also wanted to some more Katara/Zuko platonic friendship, since I like the two of them as friends and I wanted to see her mother him some more and really get that "Zuko is so far in the group... insert witty Sokka-ism" feeling.

There's another thing I think we ALL wanted, but I shall try and keep you in a little bit more suspense about it...

I intend this to be a short fic, with no more than 2 or 3 chapters...

Unless I go crazy and try and write "book 4"... let me know what you think!

The Great Wait

It had been over an hour now since they'd defeated Azula. Zuko had instructed several of the guards that crept back after the fight had finished to carry her off and lock her away somewhere she couldn't hurt anyone or herself. They looked a little apprehensive at the idea, but seemed ready enough to obey them. Zuko, aware that this legs were about to buckle underneath him, told Katara to go with them in case they changed their minds and set her loose.

"Are you sure? You still don't look too-"

"I'm fine," Zuko lied. "Just go."

After she was safely out of view, he started stumbling, practically crawling, back inside the palace. Katara found him barely conscious at the foot of his old bed twenty minutes later.

"Zuko!" she cried, more with exasperation than any great concern. She hurried to his side and pulled him up, forcing him back against the covers. "Would it have been so hard to say you needed help?"

Zuko grinned slyly and opened his eyes just a little. "But then you wouldn't get to fuss. And you do so like fussing." He let out a very un-Zuko-like chuckle.

Katara raised an eyebrow. "What's with you? You didn't drink cactus juice, did you?"

"Cactus juice?"

"Oh, right, I forgot," Katara said, diving down into her bag and pulling out a length of bandage; evidentially she'd visited the infirmary for supplies on her way back. "You weren't with us then. You were still, you know, evil then. No offence."

"Back in the good old days..."

Katara smiled at him fondly, the same way she often stared at other members in their merry little gang. It was kind, tender, almost maternal, and he was very rarely treated to one of them. Her smile had the same softness as the morning sun; inevitable, but warm and welcome all the same. It reminded him of his mother, and at the same time, of their many days camping, out at the Western Air Temple, on the field, and finally at Ember Island.

They really hadn't had that many days together, he realised with a pang. A few weeks with that group of people who had somehow, it that short time, become the best friends he'd ever had.

Friends. He didn't know many he could call that.

Katara was still bandaging him when he spoke again. "I guess everything's going to change now, huh?"

"I guess," she nodded, and then stole her third glance out the window. The sky was still seeped in a deep, red hue, like the entire sky was burning. "Do you think they're OK?"

"What do you think?"

Katara took her time in replying. When she finally turned back, she was smiling ever-so-slightly, a line of tears brushed under her closed eyelids. "That Aang's alive," she breathed. "That they're all still alive."

After she finished her doctoring, there was nothing to be done. While Zuko tried to sleep, she got up and paced the floor, moving up and down the room quietly so as not to disturb her patient. Her eyes darted constantly back and forth from the window to the bed, unsure of where to look, whether to watch over Zuko like she watched over the others when they were hurt or sad, or to stand solemnly by the window, watching the skies, like a lover awaiting the return of her beloved from war.

Which, Zuko realised, wasn't far from the truth.

He tossed and turned for a bit, trying to get comfortable, ignoring the "careful-you'll-hurt-yourself!" looks from Katara. Why she had thought he'd find it easy to sleep, he didn't know. He was as restless as she was, desperate for news, his thoughts churning over everything that would, or might, come next.

He found himself longing for Mai, for her cool, pleasant company, her sarcastic remarks. She would have made him laugh right now, unintentionally soothed his worries with her dry wit and bored humour.

He missed her. He'd missed her for a long time.

Eventually, Katara gave up staring out the window under the premise that "a watched pot never boils" and came and sat down on the end of Zuko's bed with her back towards the view. While her body remained stiff and immobile, she kept twisting a lock of hair around her fingers with increasing speed. It was annoying but he didn't say anything, it was barely keeping her sane.

Katara was not a girl that liked to keep still.

"They'll be fine," he said after a long pause.

She stopped messing with her hair and clenched her palms, so hard her skin went white around the knuckles. "I hope so," she breathed, and chanced one more look out of the window.

Just as she was ab

out to turn back, a huge burst of blue light erupted of the horizon like a cool magma and shot up into the air like a sword. It struck the clouds like blade upon a shield and breached the sky, a surge of light circling, covering, showering over the flames and cooling the skies like water. Then, just as sudden as it had come, it was gone, drawn back into a faint dot on the skyline.

"What... what was that?" Katara stammered, leaping off the bed.

"That must have been Aang!" Zuko shot up, only to crawl back down in pain a moment later. This time, Katara didn't fuss. Nothing in the world could move her gaze.

Well, maybe one thing...

"You love him, don't you?" Zuko's statement was barely even a question. He could see a soft brush, ever-so-faint in Katara's cheeks, maybe even a tiny nod. Her eyes betrayed it all, he knew. They always had.

He'd always had a fairly strong inkling that Aang had liked Katara, even way back in the days when he was hunting him all over the globe. He was always quickest to protect her, to rush to her aid. Hers was the opinion he seemed to trust most, desire above others. He'd known for certain in Ba Sing Se after Aang had teamed up with Iroh to rescue her, the glare on his face when he caught them together, and then the look he had shot her before going into the Avatar State before Azula nearly killed him.

But he hadn't been sure about Katara, not even when she'd cornered him the Western Air Temple and sworn to kill him if he ever hurt Aang. It had been a big clue, but Katara was always like that (though not always on that terrifying level!) when it came to her gang, her family. He was frequently remembering his mother's words when he was around her.

"Zuko! That's what moms are like. You mess with their babies... they're going to bite you back!"

So he'd never been sure. Not until now, when it was written so plainly across her face.

"You never doubted he'd turn up, did you?" he asked.

Katara smiled, eyes searching the skies for any sign of his return. "Not for a moment."

I intend this to be a short fic, with no more than 2 or 3 chapters...

Unless I go crazy and try and write "book 4"... let me know what you think!