Phew, just in time. It's barely Monday here, but I made it!

Katara's hands had a mind of their own.

And they were all about Aang.

Ever since the war ended, Katara seemed to be unable to control her wandering digits. She'd be sitting next to him at the table, eating lunch or dinner or something, or maybe they'd be sat on a couch, their friends chattering away about one thing or another but Katara wouldn't be concentrating or even be able to because she was putting so much effort into keeping her damn hands still. They could be sitting on Appa's head and her hand might be resting on his back, or he could be sat enjoying (winning) a game of Pai Sho with Sokka and she would saunter over to him shyly, placing a not so steady hand on his shoulder, rubbing him slowly there, maybe telling him some funny joke or kissing his smooth cheek.

Now, the cheek (and mouth) kissing was another story, but on reflection Katara realized she had always had trouble keeping her hands off of Aang. Seemingly endless congratulatory hugs. A particularly flirtatious move during a waterbending session (she still used that one occasionally, her way of keeping him on his toes). An exhilarating dance in a fire nation cave.

She vaguely recalled running her hands through his hair once or twice, as well.

Maybe she'd had this indomitable urge to touch Aang since the beginning.

Now the war was over, though, now they were finally together, now that at long last they knew what they wanted and where they stood, Katara found herself developing an entirely different urge. She wanted the tables turning.

She wanted Aang to touch her.

This probably wasn't an entirely new development, she decided, as he'd always had an effect on her when he'd touched her in the past. But it was something her conscious mind had only just decided to make her aware of, and now she had been let in on the secret it felt as though there was no fighting it.

Of course, none of this had to do with the fact that she was a teenage girl, and Aang was her first ever boyfriend. No way. No sir-ee. Not at all.

Now, Katara was a girl on a mission. She was going to take every opportunity to grab Aang's attention with both hands and hold it. Slow, lingering kisses (just a little bit of tongue). A brush of her fingertips on his neck as she walked behind him. Sultry smiles from across the room. A slight sway of her hips when she wanted to make a grand exit.

Yeah.

That ought to do it.

Unfortunately for Katara, she was nowhere near as good at utilising her "womanly charms" (Toph's charming wording) as she thought she was. At almost 15, she had absolutely no experience in attracting a boy's attention. She had naively presumed that it would be a cinch, a breeze because she'd never had a problem with it before they became a couple but it was different then and she knew it. It was so much more difficult when it was a conscious effort on her part. Before, she had been captivating his almost by accident. She hadn't meant to set his heart racing when she sat a bit too close to him or turn his face cherry-red when she hugged him. She hadn't meant to linger the way she had when she kissed his cheek, and she certainly hadn't meant to press her wet body up against Aang's naked back when she could have just as easily adjusted his stance from where she was standing and…

Katara wondered who she was trying to fool.

This inexperience was causing her big problems. No matter how hard she tried, Aang either missed her attempt entirely or she ended up making herself look like a massive idiot.

A languorous stretch in an armchair? Aang wasn't even looking at her.

A flirtatious wink and a flick of her hair, followed by "come-hither eyes"? Sokka now occupied the spot where Aang had been stood moments ago.

The sway of the hips she had finally worked up the courage to utilise? She had tripped and fallen over and had been forced to grab onto the door frame to steady herself, the waves of her hair concealing her doubtless burning face. Aang had been up in a second, his warm hands on her arms, and this was one moment when she wished Aang could have been as oblivious as he had been since the teashop.

Katara was hopeless.

After much internal speculation, consideration, and deliberation (and asking Suki for advice) Katara decided that bluntness was the way to go.

She wasn't going to make a fool of herself this time, oh no. No more Ms Nice Katara. By the end of the day, Aang's hands would be on her body whether he liked it or not! (Though she decided it would probably be better if he liked it.)

They were staying in the Fire Nation capital this time, and she found Aang stood in the living room laughing with her brother. She smirked internally. No escape this time Aang.

She marched straight up to him and grabbed his wrist, ignoring his surprised greeting and dragging him forcefully into the kitchen of the house. Stopping abruptly to spin on her heel, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a sound kiss to his mouth. Aang drew a sharp breath of surprise in through his nose before relaxing into her, his hands resting a respectful distance up her back.

Then Katara made her move.

Her hands moved to his shoulders before slowly gliding their way down the smooth skin of his arm. They slid inexorably over his developing muscles until they made it all the way down to his wrists. She was still kissing him, so Aang didn't have any opportunity to ask what she was doing (which suited her just fine) and she slowly began to drag his hands down her back.

She could almost feel the heat radiating from Aang's face, and she was sure hers was in a similar state, but that didn't stop the determined trek of Aang's guided hands over her body. It wasn't until the airbender's palms were really quite dangerously low on her back that she finally decided to give him some respite and released his wrists. Aang's fingers were now resting just barely above the flare of her buttocks, and they were shaking ever so slightly. He swallowed audibly.

She laughed internally when she realised just how far down she had pushed him. Maybe she had gotten a little carried away. After all, she didn't want her boyfriend dying of a heart attack. Pulling back from his mouth he was, predictably, blushing. She smiled at him then (she loved catching him off guard), at once lost in admiring his eyes, his face, his breath. Everything about him enraptured her. In that moment she knew, she had fallen hard and there was no getting back up.

Aang ran his hands up her back before bringing down them to rest on her hips, clearing his throat, fingers gripping her lightly. Katara blew out a contented sigh before leaning back into him to capture his lips once again.

A girl could get used to this, she thought.