I. Am. So. SORRY!
But I have reasons for not uploading recently. One–finals week. Two–since the election, I have been heavily outnumbered and I am now the minuscule minority political party in my school. (won't say which, naturally). However, school has literally become a daily political battlefield for me, and it wears me out to the max. So I apologize.

So! another family-fic thing. what can i say? ive grown attatched to this trio!
Inspired by: Avatar
Also: Back when I was young, I had a "goodnight routine" that played along these lines. I love my dad. ^-^
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar.

PS: Beware! This next fic is majorly fluffity fluff-fluff, and is so drabbledy you won't know what hit you... i mean more than the others...


Of Long Dark Locks

Laundry day was definitely not one of Katara's favorite days. While she was perfectly happy to keep the house clean, dealing with dirty clothes was not so glamorous. At least she had less clothes to deal with, considering laundry was he particular job when traveling with "Team Avatar". Although admittedly, it had been fun to let slip an embarrassing comment about her brother's clothes now and again.

Wandering the halls to find the staircase leading to the top floor, Katara was reminded of how ridiculously huge this house was. Currently living in the Fire Nation capital, the Avatar and the Waterbending Master had asked for a small apartment in the city outside the old Volcano Palace. Fire Lord Zuko would not hear of it. He figured it was best that the two most important diplomats were near the palace, with an easy commute to meetings. Plus, this way he wouldn't receive nasty looks for "Undermining hospitality towards The Great Bridge Between Two Worlds". And so they stayed put.

Just as she was thinking about this, she rounded the corner to find Aang with their little four-year-old daughter in the living room. The two were sharing an intimate father-daughter moment. Alia-Kya was sitting up on her dad's lap, smiling and enjoying the attention she received from her father. Aang was slowly and gently combing her long, dark locks, a look of gentle concentration in his grey eyes. Careful not to tug her hair, each strand was tenderly looked after. He worked his way from top to bottom before moving to another section. The gesture was very warm and heartfelt by both.

Meanwhile, Katara watched from the sidelines, not wanting to interrupt the precious moment. This was their time together, something of a habit between them. Before Alia's bedtime, Aang would always sit down with her and comb her lovely brunette hair.

The feeling of Aang gently combing her hair was very soothing, Katara knew. She had often experienced it herself, before they married and had their first child. Now Alia seemed to have unwittingly stolen the hair-combing moment. Katara smirked at the thought. Aang now seemed to be rather hypocritical: enjoying combing Alia's or Katara's hair, but refusing to grow his own. Katara hadn't been lying when she said she liked his hair.

Both father and daughter were finishing up their nightly routine. Murmuring ancient monk prayers together, Aang kissed her forehead as Alia looked up at him smiling. Noticing the grin on Aang's face, Katara knew what was going to happen next. So did Alia.

"One..."

Alia sprang from her father's lap to her feet.

"Two..."

She dashed away in her little blue nightgown and strted down the hall.

"Three!"

Letting out an excited shriek, Alia raced across the hall as fast as her little legs could carry her, with Aang hot on her heels. Making a grab for her arm, he missed and stumbled, saved by a cushion of air.

Sliding smoothly around the corner on socks, Alia quickly shouted a "Hi Mom!" Passing under the basket, she called out "Bye, Mom!" She rushed up the stairs.

Her father was less graceful. Skidding around the corner, he crashed into the carefully balanced basket of laundry, along with his wife. Both of them toppled to the floor, clothes strewn across the hall. Katara winced at the slight pain she felt in her head. Airbending both of them up, Aang immediately charged after Alia again, shouting a hasty, "Sorry, dear!" He bounded up the stairs after the little four-year-old.

Shaking her head, Katara smiled up towards the ceiling, hearing the two thundering around on the top floor like a herd of wild rhinos. Aang was just as bad as their little girl! Glancing down at the clothes however, she heaved a sigh. Extra folding....great.

By the time she had thrown the clothes back into the basket, the airbender floated down the stairs again. Looking up at him when he hit the bottom step, Katara frowned.

"Sorry." Aang shrugged, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. Spotting another stray sock on the floor, he quickly bent down and picked it up, placing it into the basket as well. Aang looked up at Katara. She was still frowning.

Scooping the basket into his arms, Aang stood up, as did Katara. Arms crossed in front of her, she looked at him while tapping her foot, almost as if she was thinking of a just punishment. Aang gulped.

Turning around, the waterbender beckoned him with a finger as she walked down the hallway. Aang followed. Making their way into the living room, she stopped to face him, one eyebrow raised over the other. Aang took this time to make a full apology.

"Listen, I'm sorry about the whole laundry thing, I could do them again." He offered. The corners of Katara's mouth twitched upwards slightly. Why did he have to be so sweet?

Leaning over the basket, she looked at him, and he recoiled slightly.

"I have a better idea," she whispered, and carefully she wriggled the basket of laundry out of his hands, replacing it with a single item–a comb.

Holding the comb for a second, Aang watched as Katara sat down, smoothly folding her legs behind her. Staring up at him expectantly, he took the hint. Grinning, the airbender sidled around behind her before sitting down. He began to comb her hair.

Fingers gently threaded through her luscious hair, followed by the soothingly familiar feel of the comb trailing down her dark locks. Occasionally he brushed lightly against her neck or cheek. Slowly but surely he wove the comb through her wavy strands, gently looking after each one. The way he focused on her long dark locks made it appear to be a form or art. It was a very lovely thought, and Katara sighed contentedly.

"So Aang..." Katara began conversationally, pausing as the comb trickled down her hair again. "You seem to have a thing for girl's hair."

Breathing in the scent of her hair–warm and familiar and fragrant–he replied. "What can I say? It's beautiful."

"It's beautiful?"

"You're beautiful." He corrected, and she smiled, satisfied. But one question is often followed by another.

"What do you like about it though?"Katara asked curiously, turning her head slightly. "Specifically, I mean..."

Continuing to comb her heair, Aang stared thoughtfully at it. Katara turned around again, allowing him time to think. After a few moments of silence, he replied. "Well...your hair loopies are the obvious choice, I guess," he said slowly, and she let out a soft chuckle. "But I think I like the feel of it best."

Titling her head slightly at the remark, she asked "The feel of it?" Katara felt rather silly for asking such questions. Of all topics she wanted Aang to go deep into, she had chosen her hair? Yet Aang complied.

"Mmmhmmm," he sighed, stroking her hair. Absentmindedly he moved his index finger through her wavy strands, sometimes curling hair around it before letting it loose again. "It's wavy and soft and silky," he told her, still combing. "Plus," He added, "You let me play with it."

Katara smiled. "And Alia's hair?"

"She takes after her mother," Aang said, leaning over to give her cheek a kiss. "But I don't think she likes me playing with it that much." He added huffily, and she laughed.

At that moment, another girl was watching them. Aang had forgotten Alia's glass of milk before bed, and she really needed it to get to sleep. So she walked right into her parent's moment together. Quickly Alia ran back up the stairs again.

Sounds of footsteps going up the stairs alerted Aang and Katara, and they hurriedly raced up to see what was going on. Barging in on Alia's room together, they found their only child curled up in a ball on her bed, arms folded around her knees. Stepping forward, both made to comfort her for whatever the reason she was upset about. Alia spoke before they could.

"She stoled my idea."

This effectively stopped both parents in their tracks.

"What?" Aang asked.

"She stoled my idea." Alia repeated, glaring with a pouted lower lip.

"Who did?" Aang asked her, his voice somewhat calmer.

The little brown-haired girl said nothing, only pointed at Katara.

Aang turned to look over at his wife, wide eyes blinking. Katara was just as dumbstruck, mouth open slightly as she looked at her daughter. Facing Alia again, Aang realized he would have to be the one to say something to her; she probably wouldn't want to listen to her mother right about now. He didn't think "It's rude to point" would make a good start either.

Feeling Katara's eyes upon him, Aang looked over at her. With a single jerk of his head towards the door, she understood he wanted her to leave. Katara was about to argue, until she noticed the imploring look on Aang's face. Closing her mouth, she glanced down at Alia–she was still frowning. Passing Aang, Katara left. He took the door knob to Alia's bedroom and made a face that clearly said "Sorry!" before closing the door.

Despite her age, it took Katara less than two seconds to crouch at the keyhole to listen. All she heard however was murmurs and whispers. Aang must've guessed she would do something of the sort; he knew her annoyingly well.

Turning around, Katara leaned against th door, slumping to the floor, She sighed. Never had she even paused to think about what she was doing when she asked Aang to comb her hair. Certainly not to the point of involving and upsetting her own daughter!

What if she wasn't a good mother? The idea slipped into her train of thought. Katara pushed it to the back of her mind, yet it probed it's way back again. What if she turned out to be a rotten mother? She couldn't stand the thought, the very idea made Katara sick to her stomach.

Suddenly the door she was leaning against vanished behind her, and Katara fell back, right into two small arms as they wrapped around her in a hug.

"ImsosorrymommyIdidn'tmeantowillyouforgiveme?" The words gushed out of Alia's mouth so quickly Katara couldn't answer, not to mention Alia was accidentally squeezing her a little tighter around the neck than was comfortable. Noticing a small shadow, Katara looked up at Aang. He was grinning down at her shrewdly, as if he wanted to preserve the sight in his memory. He pulled Alia off of her mother.

"Give mommy a chance to breathe–" Aang started, but instantly Alia was swept up into her mother's arms.

"I am so sorry Alia!" Katara said, rocking her child back and forth as she held her tenderly. "Forgive me?"

"Okay!" Alia said immediately, smiling. "Cuz daddy says I'm his favorite!" she added, and Katara looked up at Aang, frowning.

Aang coughed. "Alia..." He warned.

"But you said–"

"Well! I think I have two beautiful girls!" Aang cut her off, coming around behind Katara to give them both a hug. Standing up, the trio went downstairs again for Alia's glass of milk.

"Oh, you so owe me!"Katara whispered into the airbender's ear.

Sighing, Aang rolled his eyes. "More hair-combing?" He ventured a guess.

"Nope. Laundry." Katara replied, smirking. Aang groaned.

After a warm glass of milk, all three eventually settled in for the ngith. Alia was palced between both parents, and sleeping as peacefully as her mother. Propping up with one elbow on his pillow, Aang looked at both wife and daughter, brushing their hair aside as they slept on. He smiled; The Avatar was lucky to have two wonderful girls with such long dark locks.


Like it? Hate it? Please comment!

Hair-combing/brushing can be very relaxing. No, really!
Also, for all of those who think Aang & Katara will settle down in just the South Pole, or even the Southern Air Temple, I can't help but be skeptical. Aang is a NOMAD, and the Avatar. I think he'll have stay-houses in each of the Nations. As for the air temples: while I think Aang would love to visit them occasionally, I also believe there would be too many memories for him to live in every day.
PS: thank you Liz for coming up w/ the name 'Alia'! its awesome! She is such a spunky little kid, Katara and Aang will have their hands full!