Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it.
This fic is set after the series and contains Sokka and Zuko being friendly. I mean, if you want to add "and then they done sex" to the end of it, be my guest. But it's mostly friendly.
Sokka sat at the long table, restless, drumming his fingers against it, chin rested in his hand. It was a clear day, but ever-so-slightly overcast, good hunting weather (what was there to hunt around Ba Sing Se? He'd never gotten very good at desert hunting, either, it'd be a good day to practice that). The clouds would cut down on his shadows, they got so long across the flat sand -
"Sokka!" The irritation in Zuko's voice brought Sokka's head back around to the meeting, the many stately (boring) officials sitting around the table, staring at him with similar annoyance in their expressions. "We need your assessment of how many workman units it will take to repair the damage done to the Northern Water Tribe's - "
"They've probably already fixed it," he sighed. "Like I said before - it's all ice. Waterbenders. Two and two."
He figured the last part was unnecessary and probably a little bit rude, and the officials dirty looks confirmed it.
"Excuse me," he sighed, standing from the table, tucking his hands into his sleeves (it was too hot for sleeves; he wanted his old clothes back, the ones that made sense) and exiting the hall. He just sat on the steps, staring up at the clouds (they were going grey in the middle, they were in for a rain shower) and picking out shapes idly. He heard footsteps behind him and tensed automatically, but it was just Zuko, in the formal Fire Lordly boots that made the sound unfamiliar and therefore a threat in the recesses of Sokka's mind.
"What's up, buddy?" This wasn't the Fire Lord speaking, Sokka knew. This was Zuko, and he appreciated the difference.
"I don't belong here." It left his mouth before he realized its truth. "I'm not a...a diplomat. I boomerang first, ask questions later, and there are way too many questions and not enough boomerangs here."
"You're a warrior," Zuko simplified. "You always have been. You grew up hunting and fishing and eating with your fingers - " an involuntary flush came to Sokka's cheeks at the memory of that particular faux pas - "and you don't adapt well. Trust me, I get it. I had the same thing, in reverse." Sokka looked over to find Zuko staring out over the city.
"When you...you and your uncle - "
"When we gave up our status, yes." Zuko shrugged. "The time for warriors...I won't say it's passed. I'm not that naive. But it's been overcome, however briefly, for a time for diplomats and questions and utensils. They'll need fighters again, someday. But for now, we tend to our wounds and wait our turn."
"...when'd you switch brains with your uncle?" Zuko laughed at that, and it lightened Sokka's mood considerably. Zuko didn't laugh nearly enough for someone that deserved laughter so badly.
"I'm arranging for you and your sister to be liaisons to the Southern Water Tribe," he said when he'd quieted. "I figure you both could use a visit home."
"I appreciate that," Sokka said, a smile growing on his face at the thought. Messengers took forever, and he was anxious for news of how peacetime was treating his village.
"I thought you might." Zuko stood, clapping Sokka on the shoulder, and walked back inside. "I've got another meeting."
"Don't you always?"
"Welcome to peace, Sokka." The door closed. Sokka looked back out at the clouds and wondered just how long, exactly, it would be before he welcomed it.