Some years later…
They had returned to see a brand new production. Zuko had been reluctant at first, though curious as well in some sick way that he thought he ought to have examined. But they had gotten a personal invitation, and could hardly refuse. He couldn't tell her no.
The curtain rose, and his other self was revealed… A slightly… off version of himself. And then, there was Katara, who had come marching in from stage right to, with great skill, verbally hand him his ass in a basket. Though it seemed she was being a bit kinder and gentler about it than he remembered… He wasn't sure if that was in deference to him or to Katara.
He grimaced as the Zuko on stage cowered like a kicked dog. He dared not look to his right. His respect for her, and her temper, was… well. He eyed the stage. Legendary.
Katara guffawed as a boomerang-wielding Sokka chased a nearly-dressed Zuko to and fro.
"He did not chase me," Zuko protested. "And why are my clothes falling off?"
"He didn't have that to worry about then."
His brow arched at her sweetly smiling face. "Yet."
She leaned forward to watch the next scene, one of sibling disagreement, and he saw his opening, bringing his arm around her as she relaxed back.
"You have no idea how badly I wanted to do this the first time we were here," he murmured into her hair.
"What, to put your arm around me?" she asked, looking over at the length of his arm that was casually draped down hers.
"Yes," he said. "Exactly."
He had successfully captured her attention from the slightly farcical version of their own courtship. He watched the light of humor fade, soften, and her lashes dip as he kissed her. He didn't worry about the people around them… Few knew he was there to begin with, and he had hardly been lying… The darkened theater was just perfect for this, and he had been ever aware of her beside him. Then… his life might have been in danger. Now…
The poking at his elbow was rather insistent. Once he realized that it had nothing to do with Katara, he had ignored it, focusing instead on tasting her skin. But now… the drilling pressure was about to bore a hole into his skin if he didn't do something about it, and was now being punctuated with loud a "pssst!" with each poke. He growled low in his throat and turned his head back toward whomever it was that was so certain they needed his attention.
"Yes?" he hissed.
With absolutely no shame whatsoever, the little old lady looked back at him. "Pssst! You're missing the show! The show!"
He rested his forehead against Katara's temple, feeling her shake with restrained laughter.
"That's all right," he said, all that was polite though he knew a bit of devil was in his eye. "We've seen it before."
He felt his lips draw into a thin line as the Zuko onstage serenaded the sighing Katara. In song.
"I know I never did that."
Katara could barely contain herself as the couple on stage kissed.
"Yet."