A/N:HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Well belated birthday, really. I'm finally 12! Yay! Thanks so much for checking this out. I have to say, this is the best written story I've ever done! I'm so happy with it! And it actually has real Kataang fluff (Sorry Zutarians, you guys are cool too). I felt that, well, Aang and Katara had to have had some sort of interaction between the end of the war, and the epilogue and I tried to do a good job of interoperating that. I also had some fun going into more depth with their characters here. I explain the whole Ember Island deal without using the much too-used "I thought you were never coming back" thing. (BTW this is going to be a two-shot) Lol. Please R&R though, because I put a crap load of work in this! :-) And yes, I know, this does jump around just a bit (mainly because I wrote a few paragraphs everyday all week), and it is completely random. Please don't yell at me for that. Also I have a small, funny question: what bender would you most like to be? I'd like to be a waterbender, and not just because Katara's one (because she's not really a favorite character of mine); I just like the way it looks and is put across… sorry 'bout that. Lol R&R – Frisk-a-Roar

Confrontations

.Chapter One.

(1/2)

Katara drew herself into the water, letting the energy ripple through her. She let herself become the water, turning in the way of the airborne currents, and a small unnoticed smile slipped up the corners of her mouth. She had a way of doing that, becoming her element—it's one of the many things that made her such a great waterbender. She had the ability, the drive, the perseverance, to be what she had to be.

And then, of course, there was Aang. Aang, who stood not too far from her, practicing his own element. Air. Rather than being pushed and pulled by the element around him, it was his job to make peace with it. To control it in a way that would cause no harm to neither himself, nor the environment around him. Despite its abundance air was sacred; just like all life. Aang smiled too, but his mind was not as focused as the bender before him. Instead he fantasized, lost in his mind while his hand traced unconscious stencils through the air. He didn't even seem to notice Momo dancing at his side, entranced in the way Aang's air currents ripped through the thatches of grass, fluttering them.

There was a silence between them. Ever since Zuko's coronation they had barley spoken to each other. There had been no time between the excitement of a new Fireloard, the end of a hundred-year war, and well, despite his better judgment, Aang had a fan club now. Crowds mobbed him on the streets, and his ravenous fan club attacked him everywhere else. If it weren't for Katara's quiet "Aang, I'm going to go find somewhere to bend, would you like to come?" he was sure he would have lost his mind.

But the silence he felt thick and palpable around him was almost the more disdainful option. In the time he had spent with the monks (which still only felt a year ago to him) he had had nothing to regret, living the way he had. Back then, his life had turned in a celestial balance as he strived to become and airbending master. Now, however, he knew that every action had its consequence. And every consequence had—or usually had—an action that followed suite. Good or bad usually depended on the consequence that caused it, and the action that started it all.

Like his element, Aang avoided confrontations. He avoided them like falling boulders, preferring to stay clear and safe. But ever since he'd been training with Toph his earthbending side had eventually began to reveal itself. He found it was easier to confront, but the downside was, he was still as reluctant and uncomfortable with doing it. So with long steady movements he continued to stare absently letting his hand contort in the air. He was torn between making the long-needed confrontation, and waiting safely in the background for things to blow over. The latter was what he was trying seemingly desperate to find a way to cling to. Though he knew he if he waited too long it could bring on a whole new string of consequences, ones that were harder to confront on than the one now.

Aang took a deep breath and dropped his hand to his lap. Momo glanced up at him curiously.

"Katara . . .," he said reluctantly in a quiet voice.

The young waterbender paused in her movements and she turned towards him. "Yes Aang?"

"I, uh—can I talk to you?"

Katara smiled to herself; she knew he'd be speaking up soon. She nodded and dropped her bending water to come and sit next to him.

Katara was one who could usually read people quite easily. Like her bending she flowed in with the rhythm of human nature, but since she grew up in a small waterbending tribe (where everyone was either closely or distantly related) she found she had been absent of certain things. Though she could pick up easily on most things, almost motherly in a way, things like desire and love had evaded her. For one whole year she had traveled with the Avatar and was unconsciously drawn to him in a way she could not explain. To her it was something she had never experienced, and like her element, she shaped herself around it rather than protruding into the middle for real answers. In her tribe she had never been enlightened on what it felt like to feel for someone, to love them in a way that was not how she would say she loved her Gran-Gran, or her brother and father. But she was, however, a fast learner, and due to certain circumstances she was finally starting to "perceive" these emotions now too. Which is why she knew—if she could catch him alone just right—she'd be able to entice Aang into finally being completely open with her.

And to her benefit, it was working. Subtly.

Aang was still looking towards the ground, but rather than the absence he felt before, it was now just in aversion. "Well . . .," he began and then rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I, uh . . ." He just didn't know how to say it right. In his mind it came out in perfect clarity: Katara I love you, Katara I love you. And yet here he was barely getting past the first word. Like Katara he grew up deprived of the opposite gender and had no idea how to say it right. Plus he was still terrified after the incident at Ember Island. What if she rejected him again?

He decided to try a different approach.

"So . . . the weather's nice today," he said conversationally, letting his eyes glance into hers once and then quickly away.

Katara frowned. "I suppose it is." Actually, to her, it was much too hot and humid, but she went along with it.

"There's a nice breeze."

"Yep."

"How was the water?" It was easy to glance over at the small pond that was only feet away from him. It didn't require any confrontations.

"Warm," she replied.

Aang nodded once, out of other things to say.

"Aang, can I ask you something?"

He looked up at her, but had to quickly look away again. "Anything," he said and she knew he meant it.

Katara didn't know why she was asking, this really wasn't something she wanted to know. Perhaps it was just to hear him speak. For whatever the reason she took a deep breath and asked, "How was it?"

Aang didn't look up. "How was what?"

"Battling the Fi—former—Fireloard?"

He tried not to let her see the change in him when she said this. It wasn't for the worst, nor was it precisely for the good either. It was just a small change, a contradiction of emotions that he got when he didn't know which one to feel the most. Chagrin, anger, bliss, and sadness each had their turn as they rushed through him, melting into his demeanor. He didn't want to talk about it, not really. Not yet. He wanted to tell her this, but Katara continued before he could say a thing.

"It's actually kinda funny," she said, but then her eyes went wide when she caught Aang's expression. "I don't mean funny like that, I mean, well, I guess funny in an ironic sort of way."

Aang didn't say anything. But he did look at her, right in the eye.

"And," she went on, "I don't find the whole battle ironic, I find the whole day ironic." She frowned as she looked into his eyes. "Aang. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, I see what you're saying," he said quietly, not taking his eyes from hers, they were stuck there, lost. "Everyone was dreading that day, Sozin's Comet, and for it now to be one of the most honored, celebrated days in history."

She nodded and smiled. "Something good coming out of something bad . . . a miracle."

"No. Not a miracle. It was a consequence." He didn't know why he said it, but he did. He also didn't know why his mind was tracing back the infamous day at Ember Island, but it was. It was just one of those involuntary things.

"A . . . consequence?"

"Yeah," Aang said, "A consequence. Everything has a consequence. I didn't say it was a bad consequence, but that's what it is. I ran away from everything, Katara, I left me people to burn—I left the world to burn because I was too afraid to handle being the Avatar then." He looked away, up into the sky. "Something good did come out of something bad, Katara, I saved the world. I left it to burn, but I saved if from destruction."

Katara was lost of words. She stared at the young Avatar before her and wondered how long he'd been this ancient. So wise for his youth, far wiser than her, than anyone she knew.

"I'm not saying there are no miracles though." She was surprised to hear him talk again, and quickly glanced from where she'd been staring at the grass to see him looking directly at her. "Because there are."

"What are real miracles then?"she asked.

He just stared at her for a long moment, looking deeply in her eyes before he finally looked away and shrugged.

A long silence fell between them before Katara finally spoke, her voice soft. "Aang, I'm sorry," she said.

Taken greatly aback from her sudden random apology Aang looked at her, his brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For what you must've gone through. For not being there to help you. I'm so sorry."

"Katara . . ."

Slowly, Katara slid over to him, close enough to feel him stiffen and pull away, but only slightly to get a better look at her. A slight breeze picked up now, and the sun was shrunk slightly to the west, barely an indication that dusk would soon be approaching. Katara could feel the difference in the air though, now that the midday point was over, the air cooled maybe a degree or two. But the temperature was only a small significance in her mind. Her sapphire-blue eyes were on Aang's stormy-grey as she slid over to him so their shoulders touched.

Aang's eyes were wide and confused and for a moment he actually looked like the thirteen-year-old he was, full of shyness and uncertainty. "Katara," he said. His mind was incoherent; he didn't understand the significance of her gesture. His mouth was twisted into a frown, his brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Katara," he said in a quiet voice. "If I asked you something would you answer me truthfully?"

"Yes."

How much of an alteration this conversation had taken. How much of an alteration this day had taken. Why earlier he was enduring the unbearable crowds, until Katara asked him to go bending with her, how quiet the day had been, how awkward it had been as they endured each other in silence. Now he had his chance. The clarity of the words came back to him—the words he'd probably never use. But he did have other words, ones he'd been dying to ask her, words he'd been dwelling over for days since they were uttered. Ember Island came back to him in a rush. The words that had stung and burned him came back to him, and he winced.

In a still-quiet voice Aang said, "Katara, what were you ever confused about?"

"Oh!" Katara exclaimed, her eyes bugging wide. For a moment she was completely at a loss of words. The chagrin that washed through her was almost stifling. She knew he'd ask her this, at some point, but the way he said the words made her feel like she'd been slapped in the face with her own hand. She had known he had been deeply bothered by the incident—her maternal instincts were too strong to not be able to notice—it was just, for once, she was completely oblivious as how to handle the situation.

Aang continued: "It's Zuko isn't it?" he said, almost sourly. Ever since the horrid 'Boy in the Iceberg' play, he couldn't help but wonder if that's what she really thought of him.

Katara was speechless. Is that what he really thought? "That's what you think?" Her voice was incredulous, her blue-eyes wide.

Aang just shrugged.

"Well you're wrong, Aang."

Then what then? he wanted to ask, but instead he just looked at her.

She continued: "Look," she said, and surprised him by reaching over and tentatively taking his hand, "I have to be honest with you . . . I was confused, but it was never because of someone else. I love you. What I told you at Ember Island was, well, it was selfish of me. Utterly Selfish. I hurt you and because of something petty. I told you I was confused because . . . I didn't know how to tell you anything else. I didn't know what to say. Aang, I truly am sorry." And she was. She looked into his blank face and managed a strangely shy smile. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"You were . . . never . . . confused?" He seemed to be testing the words, his face still blank. It was strange how you can spend all your time and energy building up a barrier to protect yourself from the downside of reality, but then, when a turn of events takes place and warps reality until it's a good reality, you don't know how to except it. Aang was experiencing this, and as a result, was left rendered completely inarticulate.

Katara wanted to do something, and it was an action she really didn't have control over. Almost as an impulse she turned a bit to face him and leaned forward to press her lips very softly to his. Instantaneously the airbender tensed with surprise, but didn't pull away.

If Aang was incredulous before, he was completely blown away at this point. At first he couldn't even register what was happening, but when he did, the only thing he could think was that she was actually kissing him! Of course he'd kissed her before, but she had never actually kissed him back! It was almost strange to think about her that way, because a part of him really did see her as family (after all she, and Sokka, and his other friends were all the family he had left), but that was only a small portion of his senses, the one that hadn't known love; it was however the only side of him that was coherent. The rest . . . was, well, gone; probably floating around somewhere . . .

All too soon she pulled away, and he suddenly found that rational sense again. It wasn't happy to be back.

Katara hadn't pulled completely away, only enough to be able to look him again in the eye. She was suddenly scared and nervous out of her wits. "Aang?" she asked quietly.

How was my spelling/grammar?