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Between Friends

"Are you going to sit there all night?"

Aang smoothed a few strands of hair away from Katara's face, securing them from the breeze behind her ear. "If it means I can hold her while she sleeps, yes."

Zuko smiled sadly. "I don't know why you put yourself through this torture. You're not even fooling Sokka anymore."

Aang sighed, preferring to stare into the fire rather than meet Zuko's frank gaze. "I know."

When Aang and Katara had agreed to accompany Zuko on his tour of former Fire Nation colonies, Aang had been nervous. Even after years of friendship, Katara and Zuko could still rub one another's nerves raw, and he dreaded being between the two of them. This trip had been different though. Time and Mai had softened the bite of Zuko's personality. He was still powerful, forthright, and driven, but her love had helped him grow into the confidence of manhood in ways that his family's cruelty would never have permitted. With Mai expecting their first child in a matter of weeks, Aang could tell that Zuko longed to return home as soon as possible. Instead of the acerbic Zuko that Aang was accustomed to, a more introspective and pensive man wore Zuko's face these days.

For several nights, Zuko had watched their careful dance. They would return to camp after a long day of meeting with aristocrats and councilmen, all three of them bleary-eyed. Aang would help Katara cook a simple meal, Zuko would brew tea, and they would share stories across the fire to piece together a more complete picture of the state of the town. Aang and Katara were so careful, so polite, almost formal. They were solicitous of one another's needs, but stopped short of being outright affectionate, their obvious love and attraction always unspoken but pressing beneath the surface of every word and action. Zuko could have cut the tension with a blade, and wasn't sure he could tolerate two more weeks of it.

As the heat of the day settled into evening, and a cool breeze picked its way through their camp, one way or another, Katara would end up cradled in Aang's arms, his back supported by a plinth of stone bent behind him and cushioned by a folded blanket. At first, Zuko had rolled his eyes at the pretense. She would offer him another cup of tea, or he'd offer to heal the ankle she'd turned in the fields helping a family chase an escaped ostrich-horse. Zuko had thought that the pretense had been for his benefit, but he quickly realized that it was for theirs. It was part of the dynamic of their relationship, both needing the comfort and closeness of the other's touch, but constantly dancing around the formalities of their unsettled relationship. Zuko's long friendship meant that Aang no longer made any effort to hide the way he looked at Katara from him; he only made an effort to hide the depth of his longing from her.

Tonight, too tired for the usual routine, Aang had caught Katara's hand as she passed. "Leave that until morning and come here." A layered look had passed between them that Zuko couldn't interpret. Reluctantly tossing the damp towel into a basket by the fire, Katara had nonetheless sunk gratefully into Aang's arms. He had gathered her to him and said something that she answered with a smile before settling her head back into his shoulder and clasped her hands over his at her waist. It hadn't taken long until her breaths lengthened and Zuko knew she was dozing.

"I think that if you simply took her to bed, no one would blame you. You don't have to go through this charade every night. It might actually make things easier for both of you."

Aang sighed again. "I know. The spirits know I want to, but there's always a million reasons not to. We're never in any one place long enough to call it home, and there's always some crisis to attend to. Sometimes it feels like I'm waiting for the right time, but whenever it was, I've already missed it, and I can't go back. Whenever I take her home, I tell myself that this will be the time I propose, but somehow it never works out that way."

Zuko let that lie for a bit, allowing the darkness between them to be filled with the cricket song and the snapping and sizzling of the logs on the fire. Aang was startled out of his own thoughts when Zuko finally spoke again. "I was terrified when I proposed to Mai."

Aang smirked. "I can see how that could have gone badly. I can't imagine you would have had the heart to defend yourself had she turned you down and sent her blades after you for the audacity of asking. Speaking of which, how is it she never seems to run out? I've seen Katara's Fire Nation clothes—there's hardly any cloth, little lone pockets."

Zuko surprised himself, laughing. "Mai has her clothes specially made. You wouldn't believe the places she has blades hidden. Stilettos on her wrists and ankles, plus blades inside her obi, high inside her sleeves, in the collar of her jacket, and that doesn't even take into account the ones that are hidden in her boots and strapped to just about every inch of every limb. She has these hair pins," Zuko mimed sticking pins into his hair, "that are sharp enough to shave with. . . . Spirits, I love that woman!" Zuko sighed and leaned back on his hands, looking up into the clear sky and spread of the stars above them. He teased Aang slyly, "Of course, my wife can't draw weapons out of thin air or turn my own blood against me. That's all yours."

Aang squeezed Katara possessively, and laid his cheek against the crown of her head. "That's true. I guess I'm lucky she doesn't have Mai's temper." Zuko humph'ed in response, having been on the receiving end of Katara's white hot temper numerous times. Mai's temper was cold and calculated—when he made her mad, he was sure to suffer for his transgression later when she was good and ready. Katara's temper was immediate and explosive. He wasn't really sure that one was any better than the other.

Zuko watched the tenderness with which Aang cradled Katara. As the firelight flickered over her face, he noticed her lips twitch the slightest bit . . . she was trying not to smile. She's been awake the whole time. He realized Katara was playing at sleep for an excuse to have Aang's arms wrapped around her all night.

"Seriously, why don't you propose?"

Aang shrugged slightly, not wanting to wake Katara. "Fear I guess. Fear she'll say no, fear Hakoda will say no, fear I'll mess it up. . . . I always seem to mess it up with Katara. Lots of reasons."

"Sounds like no reason at all to me." Zuko rose and crossed the few paces to look down at them, intentionally kicking Katara's foot. Realizing she was found out, Katara flicked her eyes up at Zuko, biting her bottom lip, nervous he would out her to Aang. "Stop the games and take her to bed. You know she's in love with you. I don't think there's anything she wants more than to just have you hold her all night and to wake up next to you. If you aren't ready to make her your wife yet, give her that much at least."

Zuko's eyes met Katara's, and she smiled sweetly and mouthed, Thank you. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Zuko's back crackled as he stretched and yawned ostentatiously. "I'm going to bed . . . spirits I miss my wife."

Aang watched the fire long after Zuko had retired. Finally too tired to keep his eyes open but unwilling to relinquish Katara to her own bed roll for the night, he gently eased their bodies to the ground and pulled his blanket over them both. Katara turned immediately into his side and burrowed her face into his shoulder, drinking in his scent.

He barely heard her murmured, "Thank you."

Tentatively stroking a hand down her back, he turned his face in an effort to see hers. "If that's what you wanted, why didn't you ask?" You should know by now that I can't tell you no.

Her answering shrug was eloquent, saying much that was usually left unsaid between them. She wriggled closer, lacing one leg between his and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I guess I'm afraid you will say no too."