Disclaimer: All rights reserved ATLA's original owners.


Sniffing the air, Toph grinned as she recognised a floral scent. "It started again?"

Quirking her brow, Katara nodded. "Mmm."

Lifting the latest in the slightly inconsistent history of 'secret admirer' gifts Katara had received, Toph tapped it against her pert nose and inhaled. "Sparrow-tiger's Tuft?" she guessed, as she brushed it against her cheek.

"Yeah—it's excellent for use in analgesics," Katara remarked distractedly, still gazing at the dozen or so rare specimens. "It fits in with the others. They all seem to be from the same person. Since receiving them all those years ago, every one has had medicinal properties. It's crazy how much time someone put into finding not only the flowers themselves but specifically medicinal ones that cover such a broad span of healing supplements.

"It's like someone's trying to expand upon my strengths as a healer. I'm not sure whether to be complimented that they're trying to round out my abilities or insulted they don't think my bending is enough."

"Too expensive to be mocking," remarked Toph. "It's been going on since mid-war, Katara. I think it's someone shy and grateful." She tossed back the flower. "Are you sure they didn't send you a letter, ever?Because this literally reeks of praise and acknowledgment," at the very least, she thought to herself.

Katara's hand paused mid-caress on the tip of the kitten-soft petals. "No..."

"If you weren't my maid of honour I might call you out for lying," snarked Toph.

Huffing, Katara's nose scrunched up. "It was one note, a very long time ago. All it said was, 'Thank you'."

"Who is thanking you? Obviously they have wonderful taste," complimented a deep, gravelly voice from behind the women. Two men approached and bowed to the women under the veranda. "The Nations have much to thank you for, not the least of which are your grace, beauty, intellect..."

"Uncle," grumbled a tired voice. "Please don't harass our host and her guest."

"It's not harassment if we appreciate—and deserve—the endorsement." Toph grinned. "How's it hanging, Tea Bag?" She lifted a hand that the older gentleman slapped enthusiastically.

"PLEASE don't answer that in any literal sense," begged Zuko, already rubbing at his temple.

"Always a firecracker. Toph, I think you would make an excellent honourary Fire Nation citizen," laughed Iroh.

"I'm already sharing citizenship with the Air Nomads—or will be in about forty-eight hours, assuming Twinkle Toes doesn't get cold feet," she snorted. "But I appreciate it, Big Guy."

"Zuko, Uncle Iroh," greeted Katara.

"My ladies," Zuko greeted them respectfully. He then appointed himself majestically upon an ornate stone bench and accepted a cup of tea that Toph shuffled over to him via a nudge of earthbending. He tapped his index finger gently on the table once in quiet appreciation, making her grin soften. He returned it in kind.

Squirming slightly in her seat, Katara nodded to Zuko; he nodded back after a moment.

"So glad you two could make it!"

"As are we," Iroh said, subtly swapping the tea with his own brew. "But what conversation did we interrupt so rudely?"

"Oh, nothing important," Katara began with a wave and a blush, only to be interrupted by Toph snorting.

"Katara's long-long secret admirer has struck again!" Toph brandished the bouquet aloft like a trophy.

Iroh nodded and rubbed his nephew's back as the younger man coughed.

"Tea went down the wrong way," choked Zuko. "Excuse me."

"Ah, still hasn't admitted anything then, has he?" remarked Iroh in a knowing tone. "Your secret admirer, I mean. Of course. Who else?" He stumbled his way through as Zuko continued to quietly choke.

"You're sure it's a he?" Katara asked, sipping her tea and running her fingers absently over the flowers' silky tufts when Toph tossed them back to her.

Smiling like he knew the world's secrets, which he probably did, Iroh tucked into his cup. "When a lady receives flowers, it is always a man trying to tell her something he can't say in words."

"He sent her a thank-you card years ago," Toph said, prodding the figurative hive with a big pointy awkward-stick.

"Maybe he was trying to be polite so I wouldn't freak out and report him," Katara mumbled with poor grace, trying to avoid the topic along with everyone's eyes.

"I don't think he—the sender—is trying to make you uncomfortable," said Zuko after a beat, glancing away. His throat was still a bit scratchy but his voice was low and soothing. "Maybe he just doesn't know how you'd react if you knew who was sending them. Maybe you or he, or you and he, have a history that he thinks you might not completely understand and he doesn't want to bring up a past you might not particularly want to think back on."

The conversation around the garden table trailed off as they all turned to regard the flushing Fire Lord.

Silence.

"Uh, you know... since the flowers started during the war, uh, right?" he added, blundering awkwardly. "And the war years were..."

Son of silence.

Squirming in her seat, Katara forced a smile. "Not the best," she finished for him, temporarily meeting his eye before looking away again.

It was the same story played out every time they met (usually at Toph's or Aang's insistence of a GAang Get Together). In spite of their back-to-back fighting and 'bonding over revenge road trips', the pair had never exactly made full peace and tended to interact with a measure of floundering unnaturalness. Fighting back-to-back, they were graceful and unstoppable; attempts at polite conversation were stilted and painfully awkward.

"Understatement," snorted Iroh into his tea.

"What I'm saying is times like that make a person review their priorities; maybe you did something that made someone think hard about theirs," Zuko finished quickly. With that he tapped his finger once more on the table, signaling Toph as he nodded to the others. "Well, I think I've made enough awkward social commentary for one afternoon," he said, poorly concealing his disappointment in himself. "It was a long trip, I'm going to retire for a bit. I'll see you all at supper." With a swish of embroidered robes he stood and bid them farewell.

Katara frowned and eyed the other two; then crossed her arms over her chest. Iroh and Toph, still seated, sipped their tea and ignored her.

"What?" Her blue eyes narrowed. Katara tried to figure out what had just happened. Across from her the other two sighed and shook their heads. "I didn't do anything! I was polite to him. I tried to reduce the awkwardness for once!"

"My nephew meant no harm in his hasty departure, Katara," soothed Iroh, pouring her more tea.

"He never does," added Toph.

TBC.