Next chapter! Major Zutarage happening here, after the long wait.

murtaghismyhottie gets a cookie for guessing that Georg was based on the Scarlet Pimpernel, which is a great movie that everyone needs to netflix.

Fair warning, I'm going to be AFK for a few days and probably won't be able to post another chapter until Friday or Saturday. My apologies for the wait! In the meantime, tell me what you think of the story so far! I'm a glutton for reviews…:)

Chapter 7

Zuko moved resolutely toward the two-storey creekstone building he had chartered a room at for his brief stay, ignoring the strange feeling in his stomach. Originally he had regretted his need to leave so quickly after seeing his friends, but now he was only too pleased to escape Ba Sing Se for his lordly duties. His cabinet was still expecting his report on his recent expedition, and this little side-trip hadn't been easy to procure.

He ran through a mental checklist of things he had to do before he could leave for the Fire Nation. Set up a date for a second round of negotiations with the Earth Kingdom. He could do that in the morning before leaving. That would give him another excuse not to talk too much to…anyone. Say goodbye to Sokka. That one would be tough. Maybe he could catch him sometime tonight…but then he glanced over to the raised platform where he and Suki were dancing, their hands never leaving each other, their eyes locked almost dreamily. Yeah, he wasn't going to see Sokka again tonight.

He'd send a letter. Yes, that would work just fine. A simple letter of congratulations. Sokka wasn't particularly soft, and he knew Zuko wasn't one for gooey goodbyes.

Toph and Aang (cough cough) he could talk to in the morning before he left. He would need Aang next to him to set up the negotiations, anyway, and Toph would be representing the Earth Kingdom. Say goodbye to Mai? Eh. From the way she was interacting with that tall, brown-haired man at the edge of the square – someone from the kingdom of Hertzer? He had the same coloring – she probably didn't care whether Zuko lived or died, so that wasn't an important farewell.

Which left Katara. He wasn't sure if he could handle a conversation with her. He wasn't sure what he would do. He certainly wouldn't start bawling bitter tears of regret, or cling to her and beg her to leave Aang for him, but he would be feeling the tension of his own desires warring against reality. Katara was fairly sensitive to moods, and Zuko didn't want to risk her picking up on any of his inner turmoil. Then she might have pitied him. Pity was something he had had enough of over the years.

Zuko had almost achieved the doorway of the small inn when a friendly, aged voice called out to him. "Nephew!" Zuko stopped short. Ah, yes. His uncle. That was one more thing he had to decide: whether to take his uncle with him or leave him here as an ambassador in the Earth Kingdom. If Iroh wasn't staying, Zuko would have to come up with someone else from his cabinet. He wasn't sure he trusted too many of them with the potentially volatile peace talks yet. They still lived by the fire in their veins.

Thinking to discuss this point with Iroh now, he was nonplussed when the hefty commander grabbed his arm and almost wrestled him in the opposite direction. "Nephew, I haven't gotten to talk to you since you returned! I trust your trip to the outer imperial territories went well?" Zuko struggled a bit, looking longingly over his shoulder at the inn that was receding as they moved away.

"Ah…yes, uncle. Very well. A few needed some…replacing. But on the whole, it went better than I expected. I was actually thinking I should probably start to pack-"

"Oh, nonsense, Zuko. The night is young. A true warrior knows the time to fight and the time to rest, the time to work and the time to join in the festivities!"

"This isn't a very restful situation for me, unc-"

"Ah, look! There's Katara!" Internally, Zuko slapped his forehead. He struggled to keep his face the serious mask he was so practiced at maintaining, but found it infinitely more difficult when Katara, hearing her voice, spun around and beamed with pleasure at Uncle Iroh.

"General Iroh! It's so good to see you again!" She looked as if she was about to hug the old man, but became aware of Zuko's presence and immediately crossed her arms over her chest, her smile faltering slightly. Her gaze held his for a brief second before she recovered herself enough to carry on a conversation with Iroh.

Zuko heard none of this conversation because he now had to focus all his energy on maintaining the mask. Serious. No Smiling, Blushing, or Demonstrating Compromising Emotions. Nothing of the sort. He finally decided that looking away from Katara made this easier, so he pretended to be interested in the golden chains hanging overhead. He had resorted to counting links when Iroh interrupted him.

"Zuko, don't you agree?" Iroh waited expectantly. Katara was looking at Zuko with a bemused expression. His mind went blank.

"Uh…" Fifty-fifty shot. "Yes, uncle. Of course."

Wrong choice.

"Excellent! So of course you'll dance with Katara, eh, nephew?" Zuko's forehead creased in confusion before he was able to stop himself. What in the world could Iroh have possibly asked him to warrant that response? Zuko now noticed that Katara was smiling in amusement. She stuck out her hand for him to take, almost daring him with her eyes. Of course, he didn't back down.

The two made their way to the raised dance platform. It was peopled by four or five couples, and barely had enough space for another. Zuko was about to use this as an excuse to renege, but Katara spoke before he could say anything.

"It is the duty of an honorable warrior to dance if there are women in need of partners." She said it in a gruff, low voice, obviously an attempt (albeit a poor one) to imitate Iroh. She continued in her own lilting tone. "That's what you zoned out for."

Katara kept her head turned away from him, but he could see her cheek tightened by a smirk. She was laughing at him! He clenched his hand before realizing hers was in it, and she turned to look at him inquisitively. Zuko grasped at something to say. "You know, Sokka does that a lot more skillfully."

"What, pretend to be Iroh? Hah. I would hope so. I can't really get my voice that low." She dragged him up a few stone stairs and they meandered to the center of the group of dancers. Katara, still holding his hand, turned toward him and placed her free hand on his shoulder. She let her amusement color her face. Zuko felt his mask slipping and redoubled his efforts by focusing his eyes at an elderly couple dancing a few feet away.

Not good. They looked too happy. He looked at another couple. They were…making out. Okay, the ceiling. Oh, what lovely…golden…chains. Time to count some links.

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Katara put up with Zuko's sudden non-involvement for a few minutes. She had to keep this conversation on her terms, after all. What was her lead-in, again? 'Hello, Fire Lord?' Too late for that one…what was next? Something about how lovely the wedding was? Suddenly, that sounded too trite. She coughed a bit to put some sort of sound into the void, and Zuko leaned away from her, the hand that had been resting so lightly on her waist now almost floating in the air next to her. Was she that repulsive? She tried to catch Zuko's eye, but he continued to stare at the ceiling.

Oh, now this was just insulting. "WHAT is your problem?" she hissed at him. That got his attention. He looked down at her, surprised, but regained his seriousness a moment later.

"What do you mean?" He looked perfectly innocent. Katara fumed.

"Usually when I dance with someone he doesn't avoid touching me as if I have some highly contagious airborne DISEASE!" A few of the couples eyed Katara nervously. The make-outers hurriedly exited the platform. "Am I that revolting to you, Zuko?"

"Of course not!" Again, a trace of anger and incredulity, quickly stamped out. "I'm just…thinking of something else. And what do you care?" His cheeks colored. "You're with- you know what, nevermind. Let's just finish the dance."

"Whoa, hold on, there, Sparky. What were you about to say?" Katara could have shaken him to get the information.

"Nothing. This is a nice song. I wonder who wrote it?"

"Ugh! You're so aggravating! Just tell me what you meant! Stop hedging like an ice buffalo before a water bison!"

"I'm not hedging like an ice-" he allowed a smile of confusion crack his mask, and shook his head. "Whatever you said. I'm not hedging!" He was breathing heavily, and he paused. Katara maintained her cool glare, waiting for another moment to throw him off balance.

"Look," he continued. "This is not the type of conversation I wanted to have when I saw you again." He looked regretful. Good; his mask was almost gone. "It's been five years. Can't we just talk about something…pleasant?" Pleading. This expression made his eyes quite attractive…

But Katara wouldn't let herself get drawn in that easily. "Can you dance like an actual person?" she jabbed. He frowned.

"I always dance like an actual person."

"Oh, and I suppose you write like one, too, huh?" Katara watched as comprehension entered his features. He had the decency to look apologetic, although his tone didn't match his expression.

"Look, that was just- oh, I don't have to explain myself to you. I wrote back to you, didn't I?"

"Four words does NOT count as a letter, Zuko!"

"It had an envelope and a stamp! It was a letter!"

"It hurt, Zuko!" Katara broke her gaze and looked down. He was silent. "It really hurt me that you didn't seem to even care about so much as my health. You didn't even ask me a single question." Bitterness crept into her voice. This was not going as planned.

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Again, glutton for reviews. Gluttonous. For them.