Every night started with a glass. She would move past him to serve the other customers – he would wail for another glass, but Zuko had already cut him off, so Toph would merely shrug. "You wanna die of alcohol poisoning? Do at your own home."

He would groan. Always. Tell her pretty words and overused phrases. What was sad was that he meant them all. She knew it. It wasn't just for a glass. But she would always tell him the same thing: "Go home, Sokka." She would go along serving the other sad messes, then come back with two aspirins for him, a phone to call his sister, and she would take a washcloth to clean up the drinks that he'd spilled earlier.

He would touch her arm, falling into her. "Come home with me." She would flush under him, trying to push him back. But his breath was warm and smelled like cactus juice. He was so inviting sometimes that she found it hard to say no, but then Zuko would pull him up off her.

"Maybe next time," she'd tell him. Zuko would laugh at this, and Sokka would find his way back to the stool with a goofy grin on his face.

"When pigs fly," Zuko would chime, patting Sokka on the shoulder. He wouldn't listen – he'd just watch Toph do her rounds, and she would feel his stare on her back. He would sway his way over to her and try to wrap his hands around her waist, but he'd never get that far.

Until tonight. She was putting up a bar stool – she loved how Zuko had let her work here, even though she was blind, and how he had forced her to struggle until she'd gotten the hang of it. Now, she knew it by heart. She could do it in her sleep – and didn't hear Sokka behind her. By the time she'd realized that he was there, it was too late. He had succeeded in wrapping his arms around her, and he pulled her towards him – but he lost his balance.

They both fell. Sokka hit the ground, and Toph hit him. She struggled to get away from him, but he held her tightly. "Are you hurt?" he asked calmly.

"I wouldn't be worrying about me if I were you." She flushed. Her head was next to his, and his feet were crossing over hers. He smiled, moving his mouth to her ear, ignoring her remark.

"I love you," he whispered. She froze, and then it hit her – he was drunk. He didn't know what he was talking about. He wouldn't remember it in the morning. She thought about this.

"I love you, too," she eventually admitted. It wasn't as though he'd remember it, anyway. He blinked in surprise, his grip loosening. She rolled off him quickly, then standing up. He grabbed her ankle, and, for a second, she thought he was going to pull her down again. But instead he just grinned.

"Knew it." She rolled her eyes, shaking him off her. He let her go, lying on the ground dreamily. She was going to tell him that he better come up, since Katara would be there soon. But she didn't have to, because Katara was already storming in.

"Where is he?" Katara sighed wearily. Zuko pointed to the floor, and Katara walked over to them. "Sokka, get up," she said icily. She narrowed her eyes as her brother tried to pick himself up, only to stumble and lose his balance.

"C'mon, Katara. Be nice," Zuko murmured. She turned her head towards him, her eyes softening. Sokka still had the same goofy grin on his face. "He's drunk, after all."

"It's his fault," she said, disgusted. "Nobody makes him come here. Nobody forces the drink down him. It's all his fault." Zuko walked past her, helping Sokka to his feet, much to Katara's displeasure.

"It makes the rejection sting a little less," Zuko grunted coldly. Katara looked away and bit her lip. Toph just went back to her rounds. And Sokka ignored the tension – he was far too drunk to process it.

"She loves me, she loves me, she loves me," he sang as Zuko helped him out the door. Somehow, Toph thought to herself, she didn't think he was just going to forget this over night.

an; apply disclaimers. i love drunk sokka!
comments would be love.