A/N: Hey guys! Wow two oneshots in two days...this is new for me. This is only my third ever fanfic so no flames please! But I do loooovee it when people review! Doesn't have to be anything fancy, I just ask for your thoughts, advice, constructive criticisms... anything!

But yeah so...the idea just sort of came to me and I don't think I've read anything along these lines so if you have already written something like this, I swear I'm not a thief! Get it?! Thief...because...the title...yeah nevermind.

Thanks for reading and pleeeease review!

Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish I was smart and brilliant enough to come up with a show like Avatar: The Last Airbender...I am not. All credit for these wonderful characters goes to Bryke...I will never have such talents... *sobs in the corner*

There is no shortage of words to describe him. He's brave, strong, wise, clever, and a hero. He's compassionate, caring, sensitive, and understanding. He's trustworthy. He's intelligent. Some may even call him a saint.

But how would I describe him? Two words: a thief.

Yes, Aang is a thief. But he isn't a snatcher of jewels, a bandit in the night, or even a robber of a simple shop. He has never taken anything that doesn't belong to him, and never asked for more than he absolutely needs. He wouldn't even steal the life of someone who everyone believed deserved to have it stolen.

Aang is a different kind of crook; a taker of something much more precious than any ancient relic or antique jewelry. And he has only ever stolen from one person in his life: me.

I am his lone victim, his only target, and I have been so from the moment he woke up in my arms after a century's long sleep. Since then, he has slowly been conceiving a plan of attack, watching for any moment of vulnerability, any sign that my guard may be down.

I was oblivious at first. Totally and embarrassingly oblivious. Looking back now, in the beginning, it's a wonder I didn't uncover his secrets until his plan was already in motion. All along, he was chasing after the one thing and the one thing only that I had to offer him: my heart.

His attack was slow, his presence building in my subconscious ever so gradually. I couldn't tell you exactly when I discovered he was slowly stealing my heart bit by bit, but I know with absolute certainty when he had taken it completely.

Ba Sing Se. I feel as if the person I was before then died along with him, and someone new came alive, someone with a shared heart. A heart shared with him.

After that day, that horrifying, tragic day that forever changed my life, I knew I had lost my heart to him, that he had succeeded in his master plan. But no way was I going to go down without a fight. Not once did I let on that I knew I had fallen victim…okay, maybe one simple time: the dance in the cave. That one time, I let my guard down. I let him steal me one more time, and I let myself enjoy it.

But not again. Even when he fought back and laid out his own feelings on the matter on top of a submarine, I only slightly gave in, and only for a second. I quickly repaired the wall that he had begun hammering away at, where he created some minor scratches…and some gaping holes. In all honesty, I could never get it totally repaired, but could only patch it up into a simple fragment of what it used to be.

Even so, I kept fighting to regain what he had taken. I didn't want to be lost to him; I just couldn't let myself surrender. Defeat would mean one more thing for the both of us to worry about, one more distraction from the growing threat looming over us. And so I fought him, tooth and nail, for my heart back. I suppose somewhere in the back of my head, I knew it was futile. I knew that there was no getting it back and, strangely, there was a part of me that didn't want it back. But I pushed those confusing thoughts and feelings into the deepest recesses of my head and locked them up tight, too afraid to examine them any closer.

But still, I realized I was losing my battle. I was slowly becoming more and more vulnerable and so, when he unleashed his final attack, my defenses shot up in a last ditch effort to save myself. But instead of fighting a valiant battle to win back my own heart and regain what I had lost, I ended up losing even more. My mind clouded in the rush of adrenaline and I said all the wrong things. Of course, he did too, but I probably hurt him more than was necessary…and I didn't even win the battle. He still had my heart, except now, he was beginning to doubt himself, starting to believe he never had it in the first place.

And by the time I had built up the courage to go to him and apologize for waging yet another war for him to fight, he was gone. What's worse, the last conversation we had had was a heated argument over what he needed to do to fulfill his destiny…it was the first time he had truly yelled at me. I should have been more sensitive, should have tried to look at it from his perspective. If he were to go through with using lethal force to stop the Firelord, he would be turning his back on everything he stood for. He would be stomping all over everything the monks taught him. He would be losing himself. I know that now. I guess it's true that everything is clearer with hindsight.

After he was gone, a new sort of fear flooded over me. I was terrified that I may never see him again, that I may never be able to let him completely have what he so desperately wanted, to give him my heart without a fight. Although I didn't know where he was, I still fought. But this time, I didn't fight against him, but for him. I did everything in my power to be sure that I would be there when the battles were over and the dust had settled, and I prayed to the spirits that he would be there too.

And he was. After the comet, I waved my white flag and let him take my heart for the keeping. It was always his anyway. I would never dream of giving it to anyone else. I suppose the feeling went both ways.

Now that I think about it, maybe he wasn't the only thief in play here. He had fought long and hard for my heart, but not once did I have to fight for his. I guess I took it from him the moment he first looked into my eyes when he awoke from the iceberg. I just never knew the treasure I held until I myself had given him mine.

So I guess we're both guilty of thievery. We both took something from the other, even if one of us fought a little harder for it. We fought different battles, his was to take my heart and mine was to make him believe he didn't already have it. But I suppose it was his to have in the first place. He was only taking what already belonged to him, and the same goes for me.

Aang is a thief. I am a thief. We steal from one another and fight for what we take, but maybe love is worth the fight. Maybe our hearts were never our own to keep in the first place.

A/N: Please don't forget to review!