Well, I couldn't sleep, I'd already finished the next chapter for Crystal Queen and couldn't post it. So, I did this. Just one bored tidbit. It's obviously set in the airtemple, after zuko's joined them but hasn't made amends with Katara yet. This time was particularly endearing to me so that's why I chose then and there.

Beside, CQ was getting incredibly fluffy, so I needed to make something a little more angsty. Please enjoy.

Oh, I would incredibly appreciate it if I could get some feedback, particularly about my writing style, I'm trying to improve so any feedback is immensely helpful.

Avatar does not belong to me, it belongs to the creators Mike and Brian.

The hot moon

Katara breathed deeply, the heat of the air burning her nose and throat, why did it have to be so hot? Why was it always so bloody hot? Her blankets had long since been kicked off, landing in a far too heavy heap on the floor. She was in an Air temple shouldn't it be airy? Shouldn't it be cooler then this? Of course not, that would mean she would be comfortable for once, sliding into smooth easy sleep. Sleep hadn't come easy these days they hid in the temple. Before, when they were constantly running, she was constantly exhausted. But here, peacefully enough hiding in a temple, with far too much time on her hands, she felt useless. What was she here? A woman to do laundry? An easy source of a (decent) meal? Out there she was a hero, a fugitive, in here she was nothing.

So needless to say, she had troubles sleeping here, her bones ached to get back out where she was useful, where the world was one step closer to safe again.

Besides what kind of torture would it be if she managed to sleep at night? In all honesty she didn't know what would be worse, possibly dreaming of distaste, or laying here awake night after night listening for the gentle tap of footsteps, the almost inaudible whoosh of fire being pulled from air, the quiet ring of a calculated blade. Anything to give her an excuse, anything to let her bring him to an abrupt end. Sure, cornering and threatening him was satisfying enough. The way poison dripped from her lips, disgust seethed from her eyes, hatred oozed from her pores, and absolute betrayal radiated from her being brought enough to her to writhe in satisfaction. She'd wanted him to know how fragile his life was right now. How no one, especially not her, was going to fall for his routine again.

There were some nights that her mind drifted painfully back to that night in the caves. He'd seemed so sincere, so broken by his revelation that she actually felt a connection to him. She'd felt a familiar hurt in his words, it was the same endless grieving she felt over her own mother. She'd actually believed they had something in common, that they could be friends. The idea made her want to spit on his dinner.

Still, there were other nights she touched that memory in fondness, for mere moments he had let her glimpse inside his heart, even let her close enough to touch his skin, his scar. Inside he saw the scar as a plague that burdened his very existence. Looking in the mirror all he saw of the scar was failure, marking him as useless…

Tonight? The memory was nothing more than a lie, cleverly orchestrated to fool her into… into what? Into giving him the Avatar when she herself was a prisoner? Not likely.

Damn it all to a forsaken hell! She couldn't do this again, she couldn't lay here, alone in her room, sweating her ass off while thinking of him. She needed to get out of this room, she needed to feel the air against her skin. Maybe the cool would help her feel better, maybe then she could sleep. All else failed, she'd sleep outside, under the stars again.

Her feet swung out under her, touching the cool stone for the first moment of promised relief. It wasn't easy, but her toes guided her silently outside to the main courtyard. Much to her dismay the air out her wasn't any cooler then in her stifling room. She wanted to scream, but kept silent in fear of waking anyone. Screaming would usually signal an attack, pulling everyone from their bed to her rescue, and seeing how adamant Zuko was at gaining her trust again, he would most likely be the first out to dispatch any threat. Above everything else, she did not want to see him. Instead she just collapsed on the floor, wishing desperately to cool.

Then she heard it, the quiet splashing of the fountain. Instantly her spirits lifted at the thought of sitting in the crystal waters. She just had to, her body needed it. Like a spirit she glided over the distance between her and the fixture; peeling away the layer of clothing so she could feel the liquid on her skin.

It would be a lie if she said standing naked on the edge of the fountain didn't leave her feeling exposed, but she didn't care, she needed this. So, slowly she lowered herself into the water, each step pulling the liquid higher, washing over her skin and through her spirit.

Elsewhere Zuko was equally as troubled, tonight was labored with nightmares and visions of vicious murder. Since he'd betrayed his uncle he'd had constant nightmares concerning him. Sometimes his uncle never forgave him, leaving him feeling lonely when he awoke. Sometimes he was forgiven, a moment too late. Sometimes he dreamt of his father or sister. Each dream equally unpleasant as the next. Tonight? Both his father and Azula were displeased upon realizing Zuko had ran away, in retaliation his sister had slain her uncle, hoping to slice away any last threads his broken heart bore. Before Zuko had awoken in a cold sweat he had seen his uncle, discarded in a pool of blood, the life rapidly leaving his eyes until there was nothing left, no sign of the once great General Iroh.

His throat stung painfully, hot nights like this used to comfort him, but not now. Lately hot nights just aggravated him more, tearing mercilessly at his body. Groggily he stumbled over to a small clay jar on the floor, usually it was full of water, but it seemed he'd neglected to fill it lately. One, two, three seconds he contemplated simply rolling back into bed. Dealing with it in the morning, but the ever-growing pain in his throat told him otherwise. With a resigned sigh he grabbed the jar and walked to the most accessible source of fresh water.

Of their own accord his feet took him the long way 'round. They took him past her room. Where she was sure to be sleeping soundly. It wasn't like he cared for her or anything. He just wanted to make extra sure of her safety. She was the first on his rapidly growing list of betrayed souls. She was the first one here to show Zuko even a thread of kindness, to make him feel… human. She was the first here who seemed to care. And in the Crystal caves, she was the first heart to rip out still beating. (Next came his uncle) She was the first to suffer personally, so he owed her above everyone else. So, that's why he wandered past her room in the middle of the night, listening for her small breaths. He certainly didn't care about her.

When he was satisfied his feet kept him moving past the other rooms, to the court yard but his body froze instantly out of instinct, there was a splash, coming from the fountain.

Instinctually his hand reached for one of the swords he almost always kept, disappointed to find he'd left them in his room. The next thing he had was his bending, which he wouldn't call upon until the last possible moment. Best to catch the intruder off guard.

As silently as he could he crept closer, closer, closer until the fountain was in plain view.

His blood froze instantly as he saw her mostly emerged in the water, gentle ripples splashing around her hips. His first thought was to what she was doing. What on earth had brought her out here so late? He'd almost said something, but a small detail hitched his breath in his throat.

Her skin was bare, completely and utterly exposed to the night air. He knew he should turn back, head to his room, but he was rooted to his spot, his blood cold as ice. He couldn't help but watch as she lifted her arms gracefully to either side, an orb of water seemed to float of its own accord above her until she finally flicked her wrists, the bubble depositing on top of her, soaking her hair through. She looked like a goddess standing there, or perhaps a rogue water nymph come to plague him.

Whatever he compared her to, she seemed unworldly, standing there. Without realizing he was standing there like a fool, Katara pulled her water-soaked hair over her shoulder, wringing some of the liquid back where it belonged. As innocent as the gesture seemed, it exposed more of her then Zuko ever planed of dreaming of. Her bare shoulders curved and flexed gracefully with each motion she made. The skin on her back was smooth, flawlessly supple. His eye was pulled shamelessly to the curve, where her spine sat, shadows danced gracefully over her skin, enchanting her presence as she merely bathed in the refreshing waters.

He didn't know what drove him, boyish hormones, pain of loneliness, feminine grace? Whatever it was he wanted her at that moment, bad. The ice in his bones had thawed, boiling white hot in his veins. Moisture gathered in his mouth at the grace of her motions, pulling emotion and passion deeper than he had imagined possible from this… this… hotheaded, rude, ungrateful water sprite.

Feeling satisfied that he had broken through the trance long enough to think clearly for a split second, Zuko turned, leaving the scene behind him. Mentally he added another check next to Mai's name for things he's done to hurt her, accidental or not.

It was solved, he would have to get his water in the morning.