This is dedicated to Rashaka, one of the best ATLA fanfic writers around, who requested it after pointing out the errors of my ways. Enjoy your lemon, you little tart. 8 )

Quick note: if you're not old enough to drive, you're probably not old enough to read this, so go away now.

If you're old enough to drink, you might want to read the FULL version of this story...

But if you don't like hotness and sex, then PLEASE go away, or risk being offended. This is just the PG version, so I'm sure it's clean enough for ff . net.

All that said, enjoy! I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Oasis

I knew from the moment she defied me that she would be mine.

"I see you've learned a new trick," I said, pushing myself up off the wet grass. I winced, and could feel there would be bruises where I had landed. They were the first any woman had ever inflicted on me, Zula excluded. But my twisted sister was no woman.

I turned, seeing the Waterbender's cobalt eyes glinting dangerously in the light of the full moon. They burned with a fire to match my own.

Oh yes. She would be mine.

"But I didn't come this far to lose to you."

I lashed out with a blast of flames, and she threw a torrent of water at me, forcing me to stumble backwards. I lost my footing – stupid idiot, don't underestimate the water wench! – and simultaneously found the liquid under my feet growing slicker, turning to ice, wrapping around my boots, encasing my feet in a frozen hold. I wobbled unsteadily, trying to regain my balance, but the girl was faster.

I watched helplessly as the stream water rose, a whirling blossom of clear ice closing over me. Through the watery walls, I could see the girl whipping her arms about, wrapping the hardening shell around me. Her form was perfect, her lithe body twisting and thrashing before me. I couldn't help the bud of desire swelling within me, seeing this private dance. When she stopped, the wickedest of smiles curled her lips. I could see it from here: she thought she had defeated me. But there are more ways than one to win a battle.

"You little peasant. You've found a master, haven't you?" It came out with more malevolence than I had intended, but the Avatar was so close, my honour just within my reach, and I wanted it all over with now.

The heat I rapidly built within the ice sphere shattered the globe and I launched into a furious assault, throwing fireball after fireball at the girl, drawing closer and closer with each attack. It was with a mixture of delight and dismay that she countered each with waves of that pure, clean water from the oasis.

She was a worthy opponent. A worthy conquest for a prince.

Soon I was close enough to see her face, the look of utmost concentration and righteous fury etched into her smooth, mocha skin. Her narrowed eyes burned with an intensity to mirror the heat building within me, and I yearned to take her, right there, set her clothes ablaze and tear them off her and fill her with the fire of my need.

But the Avatar was here and now. I could go home and sate my lust with a hundred soft-skinned concubines if I got a hold of him. Still, I knew it just wouldn't be the same.

I dodged to the left, feeling the icy water lap at my ankle, and reached for the boy's collar, when a blast of cold hit my side, sending me flying across the oasis. A sickening thud and a crack sound, followed by the blinding agony in my chest told me one of my ribs had broken. I felt the ground beneath me, cold, sharp, and unforgiving, a sticky wetness soaking through my shirt. And as my vision clotted, all I could think was how horrified Uncle would be that I had spoiled my nice white training clothes…

I heard the crack, and thought it might be the loose shale of the wall crumbling away, but knew that slightly muffled sound had come from Zuko's body. He slid down to the ground, motionless.

A lump of guilt formed within me. Dear gods, what have I done?

The young man lay piled in a heap on the opposite shore, a narrow strip of rocky, lifeless land ringing the circular island. I could see a bright red blossom of blood forming on his side of his white clothing. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped my assault and jumped into the stream, sloshing loudly through the water, climbing onto the shore and kneeling by the Fire Prince's side.

He was lying at an odd angle. A sharp rock had punctured his side on the ground. It didn't look deep, but it did look painful.

I glanced back at Aang's body, sitting in lotus position by the koi pool, his eyes and arrow tattoos glowing faintly blue-white, as though it were an abandoned shell, or an unshaded lantern. I didn't realize it at first, but I had come to rely on the little monk's wisdom and trusting nature to guide me. I looked back down at Zuko, the teen who had just tried to take the Avatar away from the world he was meant to save. Should I help him? What would Aang do?

The answer came easily, like a tired sigh on the wind. I bent a snake of water under Zuko's body and gently lifted the prince's prone form from the shore, settling it onto the grass on the main island. I winced, seeing the blood dripping through the shirt where the sharp rocks had bit into him.

It was probably not the best judgment I had ever made, but I was not heartless like Zuko. I would not let him die just because he was my enemy.

Enemy. It sometimes occurred to me that I was far too young to call anyone 'enemy'. This war was what had driven children to call other children 'enemy'. Children. Wars were for grown-ups. Enemies were for grown-ups. But I was neither, and it sometimes infuriated me to be straddling that line between adolescence and adulthood.

Sure, I had lived my entire life during a war, and lost both parents to it. But still, 'enemy' was such a black and white term. Sokka used it often, but even he reserved judgment at times. I thought about Jet, and how he had seemed to be a friend until he had proven otherwise. I thought about how my girlish, childish crush had made me blind to his true nature. Curse that handsome Jet! That had been a lesson in growing up I would never forget: know thy enemy.

I sighed and looked down at Zuko, his face quiet, thinking. How could I call this boy – this young man, I corrected myself – 'enemy'? I was barely old enough to call someone 'lover'. I sighed. The day I could do both was the day I would have to stop penguin sledding, and I was not eager for that day, though I did look forward to it.

Dipping my hand in the water, I formed the glowing healing glove that Yaguda had taught me to perfect and began to pull up the prince's sticky tunic. I was pleasantly surprised by the hard, flat muscles of his abdomen, but entirely distracted by the angry red torn flesh at his side. The smell of blood was overpowering. I gingerly applied my touch, and closed my eyes, willing the wound to close and heal, trying not to think about how warm Zuko's skin was, even in these frigid climes.

The blood stopped flowing out of his body as the flesh sealed and new skin grew over it. I exhaled, feeling an overwhelming sense of triumph and accomplishment, but it was a short lived sensation as I remembered the sickening crack of Zuko's ribs when I had dashed him like a rag doll against the wall.

I pushed his tunic up further, and had to remove the coil of rope looped around his chest to do so. I tossed this aside, and pulled the thick sweater off over his head, his limps arms pulling out of the sleeves.

The smile worming into my lips couldn't be helped. Zuko was broad-chested and well-formed, his pecs and abs very defined for someone his age (Sokka being the only other comparable boy I'd ever seen without a shirt, and he was my brother, for incest's sake!). The cords of his neck strained out, even as he lay there, unconscious, though his face was quite serene.

Unconscious? It occurred to me I was not being prudent. The Fire Prince could awaken at any moment, shirtless, and wondering why I was smiling down at him. I arranged his arms above his head and wrapped water snakes around his wrists and ankles, freezing them in solid ice cuffs. They wouldn't hold the Firebender long, but they'd give me enough time to counter him if he woke up.

Feeling a little safer, I examined the teen's torso, wondering at all the bruises, scrapes and scorches decorating his chest. By the looks of them, he had had them for a few days, and they were healing over nicely. The freshest purpling bruise I had inflicted covered a palm-sized area on his right side. I gently probed the spot and felt a slight shift of the bones. Definitely broken. But I could fix that, too.

Drawing more water from the sacred oasis (spirits, forgive me this trespass), I set to work healing the injured heir to the Fire Nation. I knew he would not be grateful, nor would this change his obsession with capturing Aang, but in my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do. Damned be the consequences.

Knitting bone back together was much more difficult than flesh, but Yaguda was a good teacher, and I had made time between lessons with Master Pakku so I could learn from both healers and fighters. In quick time, Zuko's ribs were mended, and the bruise was erased.

I looked over the rest of his scarred body, my eyes flickering over his bare chest, and decided he would not mind a little more help. Such a fine form should not be so mottled with scars. I glanced briefly at his face, but the facial scar that marred him was not something I considered a defect as much as an identifier. I set to work on his other injuries, reforming the prince's perfect torso – if not for his benefit, then for my own selfish pleasure. He would not thank me, but I didn't need his thanks.

The first thing I felt was a soothing coolness against my chest. I knew there was pain, a burning, stabbing sensation that threatened to make me cry out, but it was subsiding rapidly. In moments, it was entirely gone. The coolness moved around, silky fingers flowing over my skin. I felt hurts I had not acknowledged dissipate, and with each gentle probing, a little more pain left.

Was I dead? Had I finally shed the mortal coil and entered the Spirit Realm? If so, then I had surely done something good, because I was in a state bliss.

I sank down deeper into heavenly sleep, not daring to open my eyes in case this wonderful feeling left me. The soft touch was like silk and feathers brushing over my skin, cool like shade on a summer's day.

And suddenly, an electric thrill sent sparks through my blood as the soft stroke circled my nipple.

That was no chaste comfort.

It came back to me, slowly, surely. The Avatar. The oasis in the Northern Water Tribe. The Waterbender girl… Katara.

Oh, of course I knew her name, though we'd never formally been introduced. I knew all their names: Sokka, Katara, Aang, Appa, and even that lemur, Momo. They'd shouted at or for each other enough times that I could figure out who was who.

Besides, she had such a beautiful name. Conjoined with – I admit it – stunning and singular beauty, and the strength and spirit of a warrior, her sheer presence was not easily missed or forgotten. I could pick the water wench out from any crowd. In a few years, natural beauty like hers would blossom, and she would become worthy of any harem or royal court, even if she was just a lowly peasant from an unremarkable Southern Water Tribe village. She was an orchid, rare and delicate, grown from a pot of dirt. Lovely, sweet, fragrant…

And now, she was touching me.

I heard a stifled giggle. I remained perfectly still, pretending to be asleep, and felt the girl's touch trail down the centre of my chest. Her palm rested on my abdomen and slid along the planes of my flat stomach. I could feel her tracing each abdominal muscle, exploring the lumps and curves that must be so different from her feminine ones. It was a good thing I wasn't ticklish.

I couldn't help it. With each hurt I removed, Zuko's alabaster white chest became more and more like some ideal carved in marble. His torso was a living monument, rising and falling steadily, a strong, steady heartbeat throbbing within him.

He didn't seem so bad, lying there. I looked into his scarred face and mentally removed the cuts and burns on his skin. I could have healed those as well, might even have tried to heal the flame-shaped burn mark covering his left eye. But I knew I had to leave those. If he never looked at his chest, he would not know I had healed him. But if he saw his suddenly unmarked face, he would know I had done him a service, and Aang and Sokka and everyone else would know it, too.

Prince Zuko was quite handsome, even with the small frown tugging his lips in his slumber. I wondered if he ever smiled, and what it would look like. I was suddenly aware that my hand had been absently caressing the smooth skin of his chest and I stopped, wondering at myself, unable to suppress the foolish grin plastered on my face. After all, I couldn't help it that Zuko was, forgive the pun, hot. I looked at him more carefully, feeling the energy, the intense fire lying dormant within him, just under the surface beneath the skin of my hand.

I shook myself and forced myself to frown. Enemy, I labeled him, and tried to turn my eyes away. He was the heir to the Fire Nation throne, after all, and had nearly dispatched me in his obsessive hunt for the Avatar.

And still, my hand continued its circuitous path around his bare skin.

I was on fire. I was burning from the inside out, mad with desire, feeling a different kind of agony as I struggled to remain still. I wanted to break the icy hold around my wrists and ankles and take her, make her mine, throw every caution to the wind and taste of her sea salt lips and skin.

But delicate situations call for delicate actions. And I still had to get the Avatar.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. She had not noticed that I was awake yet, her gaze focused elsewhere. Her lips were parted and she was panting ever so slightly, her eyes wide with fascination. Her dark skin was flushed, her dark braid of hair hanging just over her shoulder. How I wanted to undo that knot and run my fingers through those shining locks and breathe in her scent!

I quickly shut my eyes again as she turned, fixing my face into a mask of perfect calm. She spoke softly.

"If our situations were different…" Katara's voice trailed off.

I don't know what made me say it out loud, but I stopped myself before I could complete the thought. If our situations were different, I would what? Admit that I liked looking and touching his naked body?

I was being foolish. There had been other men in my life before, but none of them inspired the kind of longings Zuko was inciting right now. Had always incited, in many ways. The thrill of being chased, hunted, the risk of being captured, taken, held against my will… it made me shudder, but not in an entirely unpleasant way.

Looking at the prince's still face once more, I wondered what I could get away with. I could feel a deep, dark longing building within me the longer I stared into his imperfect, handsome, human face, and it was maddening.

His lips looked so inviting. What would Sokka say about me kissing a Firebender? The thought made me smile. It was so deliciously forbidden.

No one was looking. This would be my only chance. When I had granddaughters, I could always tell them the story of how I kissed the Prince of the Firebenders and he'd never known it. I smiled at this thought.

Curiosity got the better of me. I leaned over the prone prince and gently placed my lips over his in the most innocent of kisses. He did not react, to my relief. I tried again, letting my lips linger. He tasted of salty sweetness, flavoured with a hint of wood smoke, and I gently tugged at his lower lip, pressing my tongue against his teeth.

His face twitched. I felt his tongue flicker out to meet mine.

I gasped.

I could stand no more. The Waterbender's cool tongue sliding around my mouth had nearly sent me over the edge. I would never have thought her so forward, but she was full of surprises.

I snapped my eyes open. With a burst of fire, the icy restraints exploded off, showering us both in shards and droplets. She cried out and leapt from her half prone position over me, but I was ready, faster. She stumbled backwards and scooted back on her hands and I tackled her, throwing her hard into the ground. I grabbed her flailing wrists and pressed them into the soft grass over her head.

"Looks like you've learned more than a few new tricks," I breathed hotly in her ear, and she whimpered as I gently nibbled and sucked at the soft flesh of her delicate neck.

Her whole body stiffened at my attentions, in shock, or surprise, or anger, I don't know. I didn't care. She smelled delicately of the sea and some waterborne flowers and I drank in her essence as she struggled beneath me.

"No, Zuko, stop…" she pleaded, but I sensed she could not deny the waves of pleasure coursing through her. I knew what she was really saying: don't stop, come to me quickly before my brother and the Avatar return from wherever they are…

This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is so very, very wrong…

But it felt so good.

"Zuko…" I whispered his name, begging. But whether I was begging him to stop or urging him to go on, I couldn't say.

He held both my hands down and reached around my side, untying my robe and drawing it off beneath him. The threadbare blue dress fell open on one side, exposing my breast bindings. He pushed the other side of the robe off and fell to kissing my naked collarbone, his nose touching the jewel of my mother's pendant.

"Stop…" I breathed, trying to buck him off, but I only managed to egg him on.

"Sweet, innocent Katara," he chuckled, his gorgeous gold eyes full of lust. "Who'd have thought it was in you?"

"Please Zuko, stop," I said quietly, frantically searching my brain for a selfish reason why this… pleasure… should stop. "If my brother finds you…"

The look on his face went from hungry to incredulous. He laughed, and I nearly gasped at his quirky smile. I never thought he'd look quite like that.

"Don't worry about anything, my little water peasant," he murmured. "Let's just enjoy this moment we have…"

His bare chest pressed against me, cool skin meeting hot flesh. He began to pull at the elaborately wound strip of fabric that was my breast band, but couldn't get it either up or down over my chest with only one hand. The other still held my wrists down.

He growled again, either in frustration or lust, or both, and his fingernails dug painfully into my skin.

"Ahh! Zuko, STOP!" I cried out, and with all my strength, heaved him straight off me with the force of my hips. He tumbled off to one side, his breathing ragged, crouched like a tiger ready to spring at me again. I sat up, gazing into his face. His auric eyes bore into me, devouring my half-naked form, and I realized I was staring back at him with the same hunger.

"Just… give me a minute…" I said lowly. My mind was racing. How could I let him do this? There must be a way to escape him, escape this whorl of passion I had myself created out of my own stupid curiosity with his body. I was being drawn dangerously in, deeper and deeper into the madness that would surely meet me if we coupled.

The fear and trepidation flickering over her face only increased my desire for her. She was being hunted, a doe in the forest. My heart rate sped up as I readied for the kill. She would fall to me.

I darted up behind her and she flinched as I drew the robe off her bare shoulders and painted her with sweet kisses and hot breath. I could feel her skin crawl with goose bumps as I traced the dry tip of my tongue up the back of her neck, undoing the ties that kept her necklace on. I drew it off and put it aside, distracting her as I worked at her hair ties, loosening the ribbon that kept her infuriatingly perfect braid bound and pulling out the pins that held her mass of wavy chestnut hair out. She did nothing to stop me, and I knew she was within my thrall.

I could see in my peripheral vision the faraway gaze clouding her eyes, the slight part of her lips as she responded to my hot, probing stroke. Never had I thought she would be so docile. This was far too easy, and nearly disappointing. The girl had the fighting spirit of someone from the Fire Nation, but right now, she was melting into me. Not that I minded. I'd need my strength for later.

"Mmm…"

I'd never realized what a soft voice he had. Whenever we encountered him, he always seemed to be shouting or making threats. But now, with him breathing in my ear, his purr sounded like a sheath of velvet being drawn over a bolt of silk.

I remembered being tied to a tree and surrounded by those menacing pirates. I recalled with a shiver how the prince had dangled my mother's necklace in front of me, and the way he had whispered seductively in my ear. In hindsight, I think that was the moment I realized Zuko was… fascinating. I wondered now if I had ever thought of him as more than just fascinating. A dozen descriptors came to mind. Driven. Passionate. Focused. Hardened. Suave. Sensual. Sexy.

The prince pressed his bare torso against my soft back, placing butterfly kisses along my jaw, whispering shockingly arousing things against my skin, his spicy breath pouring down my neck. I never thought a few words could excite me the way his were.

"Gorgeous…" he murmured. "You are so beautiful… my delicious little water peasant…"

He pinched me hotly. I cried out.

My lust was fired at her wanton cry. I pulled her down and pressed her back into the soft grass, quickly straddling her. Her expression twisted about. I couldn't tell if she was going to laugh or cry.

"Zuko…" she sobbed. I looked into those burning blue eyes and felt her anguish. She was fighting herself, fighting so hard to maintain control, to salvage her virtue. She writhed, as though in pain, and I felt a stab of guilt pierce my softening heart.

I lifted some of my weight off her and let go of her restrained wrists, reaching out and stroking her hair ever so gently.

"Katara…" I heard myself whisper and crawled on my hands to hover over her chest.

Our gazes met, ice blue striking blazing gold. Her face was set in a look of sheer puzzlement, her brow furrowed in consternation, eyes darting in calculation. Fighting, fighting, always fighting…

I ran my lip along her jaw near her ear. "Sweet, beautiful Katara…" I whispered, nibbling her earlobe.

And suddenly, she pushed my shoulders up. Her face no longer looked pained and clouded. It was as though the sun had come out, the blizzard of conflict gone. Her eyes cleared and she smiled up at me. Smirked.

"Kiss me," she whispered fervently.

And I happily obliged.

I had instigated this. Wanted it. Knew there weren't many chances in life to fall so hard for a prince. He called me sweet. Gorgeous. Beautiful. I had never felt so wonderful – and conflicted – in my life. But he couldn't be lying to me. Why would he? He had me pinned down, was twice as strong as I, could take me and skip the flattery. It didn't make sense for him to compliment me, worry for me… love me? That concept was so beyond my mind right then. So I let go. I opened myself up for a world of pain and pleasure, and I was letting… no, inviting the Firebender in.

I caught a quick glimpse of Aang's still-empty body, the glowing eyes staring accusingly at us. The reality of that hard, vacant stare brought me crashing back down to earth, weighted by the leaden guilt pooling in my belly.

I broke our lip lock and pushed the prince up off me. "Zuko, we shouldn't…"

He seemed to know what I was thinking, his eyes darting to the Avatar.

He studied me through thick lashes, breathing. "We shouldn't? Or you don't want to?"

The enigmatic smile on his face slowly became a triumphant smirk as I continued not to answer. His lips traced a soft path down my neck, collar. I moaned with pleasure, relinquishing my hold on my girlhood and embracing what would be womanhood.

I never thought Zuko would be such a passionate lover, in addition to being such a passionate fighter. It must be a Fire Nation thing.

I lay there for what must have been a long time afterwards. I distantly wondered where Yue had gone, what time it was, and whether I should get up for fear of breaking this perfect moment, lying on my side, face to face with Zuko, our mouths inches apart, breathing each other's breath.

It came rushing back to me, a stemmed tide that had finally broken after minutes (hours?) of painful ecstasy. That ugly word pressed into my mind.

Enemy.

I looked into the young Firebender's scarred face and tentatively reached up to touch the newer scabs and bruises.

"What happened?" I asked hollowly. It was a question that held the weight of every question I wanted to ask him just now. Ever.

He hushed me and took my fingers and delicately kissed them, his flaxen eyes never leaving mine. "Don't say anything, Katara," he whispered. "We have some time before sunrise."

I pursed my lips and looked down at myself, not feeling so much naked in front of Zuko as much as open and vulnerable.

Vulnerable to the enemy.

I could feel my face crumpling into a cringe, my features twisting into a look of pure horror at myself, and Zuko winced.

"Shh. Don't," he whispered, drawing me closer. He knew I was reverting. He knew that in short time, we would both be back in our clothes and fighting against one another for the life of one small boy. For the fate of the world.

I felt small in his arms as he held me against his warm skin. He had always seemed cold to me – his pale, white skin, tight jaw, clanking metal armour, and cool demeanor simply screaming coldness. But he wasn't. He was warm, and he had a heartbeat that thrummed loudly against his rib cage. He let out a heavy sigh, stirring my hair around my cheek.

"Thank you, Katara," he said. "For healing me."

I was too astounded to reply. I nodded dumbly and snuggled into his embrace.

I watched the stars wheel and fade into the velvet night sky overhead, and knew there was less than an hour before daybreak. We both sat up at the same time, wordlessly acknowledging that our time together was up.

I pulled on my drawers, pants, socks, boots, and looked over at Katara, who had her bottoms on as well and was now expertly rewrapping the breast band back onto herself. As she tucked the ends in, I strode over to her, and embraced her, stealing one last hot, passionate kiss, skin against skin, our tongues blindly groping for some way to recognize the other should they ever meet again. My hands moved over the plains of her body, memorizing every curve and angle, knowing very well I may never feel her again. She held onto me tightly, pressing against me with all her might as though she could leave an imprint on my muscled form, then broke away, tears standing in her eyes. I felt little barbs tugging at my heart, threatening to tear it into shreds if it didn't harden.

I looked at the lovely Waterbender, my sweet Katara, and felt my chest tighten.

"One day…"

My voice left me. I couldn't say anymore. I turned my back on her and pulled my heavy tunic back over my head, grimacing at the blood stain before tucking it into my pants. I gathered up the coil of rope on the ground and slung it over my shoulder.

And when I turned back around to face my opponent, an arctic blast of icy water struck me full on. I felt my whole body ascend, lifted higher and higher off the ground as if someone had picked me up like I was a child and joyfully thrown me into the air…

The End

Yeah, so not as lemon/lime as you all hoped, right? Welllllll... why don't you sneak over to Adult Fan Fiction dot net and see what else happened... if you dare. Be forewarned. Hard-coreness. Not for children.
P. S. For all the prudes out there who are thinking of flaming me: Erotica is a literary genre. Get over it.