Series Title: Silk and Twisted

Story Title: A Night of Sleep

Author: Moor

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I make no claim to "Avatar".

A series of drabbles, one-shots, and other shorts all relating to sex, in one way or another. Characters are all bumped up to at least the age of consent in wherever you live, to cover my ass. (Or, if it helps, imagine Zuko's around 27, and adjust everyone else's ages from there, unless I mention something different specifically somewhere else. I'm pretty sure if he's 27, everyone else is legal by then…)

AN: I was tempted to make this Zuko/Katara, but it just came out feeling more like a Sokka/Suki moment. Apologies for any OOC.

It had been a very long day, with too much arguing in the new development in her village, political intrigue tinting the plans for the next celebration, and her friends ignoring her for who knew what. Suki groaned with exhaustion. Sleeping in her bed was going to feel so good after so much stress. She didn't want anything else, just sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and was bound to pile more on her plate, but that was at least a night away. And she planned to sleep as furiously as possible.

She pulled the covers up and slid into bed, her eyes already closed before her head hit the pillow. With a happy sound, she rolled onto her side and smiled at the warmth coming off her husband's nearby frame. It was definitely nice to have a bed-warmer.

Sokka chuckled, but it was muffled a bit by their blankets. He shifted and wiggled closer, draping an arm around her middle and massaging her stomach, along her side, down her leg…

A bit irritated, Suki shifted away from him. "Not tonight, Sokka. Sleep. Too tired," she mumbled, turning so her back faced him.

Not one to be discouraged, Sokka's hands roved over her, seeking out her more responsive sighs. "Come on, I missed you tonight! And at lunch. And first thing this morning…" he kissed her up and down her neck, nibbling the sensitive spot that he knew she enjoyed.

Without meaning to, she laughed when he got to justthatspot and his hair fell around her ears, tickling her like a feather. He grinned and kept at it, teasing her a bit more and reaching further...

"Didn't I do you this morning?" she complained, trying to distract him. She was yawning and trying to focus on the nothingness to relax. Sleep, blessed sleep, come quickly, please! I only have a few short hours left! she prayed fervently. Grant me my one request!

"NO!" he retorted quickly, angry that she could have forgotten. "I need groping!" he complained childishly. He took one of her hands and brought it closer to him. "See! I'm desperate here! Do your duty—the sooner I'm done, the faster you're asleep!"

As much as she wanted to throttle him, she started laughing. "Sokka…"

Perking up at her good humour, he switched back to suave mode and lowered his voice seductively. "Do I make you wet, baby?"

"Do the tears of laughter falling down my cheeks, count?" she asked him as she laughed harder, wiping the dampness from her face.

Sokka nodded, smiling. "I love our foreplay," he said happily and cuddled up closer to her.

Giving in a bit, she wiggled into him and pulled his arms around her comfortably. "Me, too. But no more tonight. Tomorrow maybe. I really am tired, ok? And if you annoy me one more time, you'll learn the Kiyoshi meaning of pain. There's a reason women are in charge around here, you know," she teased him as she drifted off, but meant every word.

"Ok," he sighed, ever the martyr. "But tomorrow I get extra love," he demanded in a sulky voice.

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, already out for the night.

/end of this one.

AN: Way off base? As I stated above, I know Katara and Zuko are usually portrayed quite passionately, but when this scene came to mind, the silliness just came across as more of a Sokka and Suki moment. Thoughts?

AN: 'Silk and Twisted' is the title of this series of shorts. It is meant to be a parody of 'Sick and Twisted'. 'Silk and Twisted' came to me after I misread something written on the back of a truck cabin on my commute home from work tonight. Odd where inspiration decides to strike, sometimes…