Author's note:

artsyelric: ah, so reminiscent of crossroads of destiny, but with such a more maniacal... twist, muwahaha. i originally wrote this much tamer, but trombe decided to spice it up - we couldn't resist! what screams zutara more than a drugged katara, and an injured zuko chained to a chair? haha! well, you owe the sweet dialog to me, and the kinky situation to the big guy behind our zuko! don't have a heart attack! it's still kid-friendly XDDD

Trombe: Your dialog? I had to reword majority of yours just to make it flow better.

artsyelric: haha, true, but i meant the cutsey dialog, trombe. didn't think you wanted to claim that. after all, i did the whole hair thing! even you thought that was good! ('pouting' you never give me anything...) -well (somehow) between the two of us, hopefully it's good!

Trombe: But anyway readers please do enjoy the next installment of this rising zutara fic.

artysleirc: i'll shut up and let you read now...

What I Don't Like About You

Chapter 7: Cell Mates

Katara's eyes flitted open. She blinked, but realized it made no difference. It was so dark.

Every muscle in her body ached, brimming with pain, like she'd been hit by a rockalanche, though nothing felt seriously wrong with her. She knew her eyes were open, yet the world seemed groggy and dim, as if she was seeing everything through stained glass. She tried to stand, but found her limbs moved like they belonged to someone else, her muscles not responding at all.

"You're awake," a voice called kindly.

"Aang?"

"Hardly," the voice answered, stiff and humorless. A breath of fire puffed out, and Katara saw Zuko's scared face for a second through the gloom before the flame died down and the veil of darkness returned. "Sorry to disappoint you. Though I suppose it's a good thing in the long run he's not here..."

Katara rubbed her temple as she sat up, struggling to remember how she'd gotten here. "We were captured..." She remembered groggily. The waterbender winced as she tried to stand once more in a futile attempt before giving up. Her ankle wasn't serious, but it added to her unbalanced feeling. "Is Sokka here?" she asked.

"No," Zuko curtly replied. "He's still got his cover, as a guard. Maybe he can help us. He said he'd figure it out, whatever that means."

"How long have I been out?"

"A few hours," Zuko guessed. "It's hard to tell in here." Suddenly, he coughed harshly, his body moving oddly as he did.

Katara's eyes were adjusting in the dark, and she was slowly beginning to make out the fire prince's weary form.

Her blue eyes blinked as she realized he was bound to a metal chair, cuffed hand and foot, his head hanging heavily. Katara could only assume they must be holding him there to prevent him from any firebending. "...Are ...are you alright?" she whispered.

Air wheezed out of his mouth as he laughed. "Heh heh heh... funny you should ask that. I thought these chains and the coughing would be dead giveaways." Zuko answered sarcastically, without lifting his head.

Katara glared at him, but she just didn't have the energy to be mad. Maybe it was the desperateness of their situation, or maybe the fact that he was so helpless, or most likely it was just the effects of the drug, but she didn't want to fight with the closest thing she had to a friend right now. First, live, then kill Zuko.

Getting some feeling back in her legs Katara desperately tried to push her half-dead body towards the prince, stopping only a few feet away from him as she leaned her back against the wall beside the chair. "So, what now?" she worriedly asked. She had never imagined herself to be in such a situation such as this yet here they were. She didn't want to know what lay in store for the both of them next. "What do we do?"

"What else is there to do?" Zuko pointed out calmly, coughing at the end. "Nothing but to wait... wait till the Warden decides to see us," he provided, noting her confused look. "I suppose locking both you and I together in the same cell is his idea of some sort of torture. Let us see how badly the other is doing." He glanced at Katara sideways from his bad eye. "When he comes try to not make him mad."

"Still afraid he'll decide to kill me?" she asked dispassionately.

"Yes."

Katara was surprised. She wasn't sure if that straightforward remark was serious, sarcastic, or maybe even worried. Her brain was too foggy, and Zuko was so... aloof. With nothing else left to say the two stayed in the dark as the minutes passed by, only to be interrupted by a groan from Zuko as he shifted in his chair.

Katara looked up and spotted a pained look upon the prince's face before glancing at a dark red damp mark on his side.

"The arrow-" Katara realized.

"They pulled it out," Zuko reported, his face grim. Katara couldn't imagine that had been a pleasant experience. "But I think it's still bleeding."

Fighting against her groggy state and cramping muscles Katara found the will to push herself up and crawled her way towards Zuko. It took her whole will and concentration to try and not vomit or fall down as she tried desperately to shake off the drug's effects. She knelt facing the bound firebender, and her hands, though shaking, made their way up to feel the wound.

"Let me see," she commanded, pulling his shirt up revealing a horrible wound that bled an angry red. "Well, it was a clean pull at least," she deduced. "But it needs to be bandaged, and more." She wiped her hand across her sweating forehead, hoping to bend some of the water there, but none moved with her motion the way it should. She struggled against her groggy self one more time before giving up. "I still can't even think straight, let alone bend," she fretted, rubbing her head tiredly.

"It's pointless. There's no water in here anyway," Zuko said.

"Shows what you know," Katara humphed.

But she knew Zuko was right. She couldn't rely on her bending for now. But that didn't mean she couldn't help him. She had been a healer first in the Southern Water tribe, long before she was a master waterbender, so she knew there were other ways to heal besides bending.

Katara ripped a strip off her water tribe clothes with her teeth. The tearing sound echoed in the small room. Clumsily, the blue-eyed waterbender began to dress and tend the wound.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked earnestly. "You're in no condition to help anyone. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"You got that protecting me," Katara countered sternly. "So shut up and let me help you."

If Zuko had any objection he didn't voice it.

She knelt before him, and moved her hands slowly but surely, holding one end of the wrap flush against his chest as she bound the wound, tightly, but still with breathing room. Her fingers brushed gently against Zuko's skin as she worked, and she noticed his chest was littered with other scars, most small, but numerous. She had to reach around him to wrap it well, and she noticed Zuko arched his back to give her hands room. As he did, Katara found herself remembering the moment when he had grabbed her as they fell. His arms were bound and held into the metal contraption's clamps now, but she could clearly remember the feel of them around her, strong and protecting. She had felt safe then.

Her face flushed, and she pulled the last knot to the makeshift bandage tight letting Zuko's shirt fall back down to cover it. What a stupid thing to think of now, she reprimanded herself, turning her mind back to healing. "There, that should do for now. But we'll need to clean that wound later when we get the chance." Katara finished, and glancing up at her unexpected patient, and saw that for some strange reason he was blushing too. She looked back down quickly. "I- I never thanked you," she said suddenly.

"For what?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"You saved me back there. Twice."

"It was nothing," Zuko responded, turning his head the other way. "It was a fight. You knocked out all those men on the wall-"

"And then you took an arrow for me, and the brunt of the fall. So... thank you."

"You must be pretty drugged, Katara..." He met her gaze once before briefly pulling away, confused. "...you're welcome," he finished awkwardly.

Did we just have a pleasant conversation? she wondered in disbelief.

Katara started to stand, her job finished, plus feeling no need to stay as close to the firebender as she currently was. But as she rose, her mind swirled, and a wave of drowsiness took over. The dull pain she had been fighting in the back of her head suddenly came back to life in full force, amplified by how quickly she'd stood, and the feeling it brought was excruciating. Katara groaned as she tried to get up, only to topple over Zuko, landing abruptly in his lap, her forehead pressed against his shoulders.

She felt his muscles tensing up through his shirt, simultaneous to the heat rising in her cheeks. Whether it was because she was flushed and embarrassed or because of the drug's effects she couldn't say. "S-sorry. I'm... I'm still so dizzy...T-This isn't what it looks like..." she defended herself weakly.

Placing a hand against his chest she tried to push herself up but found no strength in her arms to do so. Her hand slipped when she tried again, and she collapsed against him a second time, frustrated with herself, unable to move, but too stubborn to quit. Eventually, through the haze, she realize he was talking to her.

"...I told you you're in no condition to do anything. You are drugged, Katara," she heard him exclaim in a calm yet tense voice, as if he was nervous.

Well, duh I'm drugged, she wanted to say, but the concern in his voice held her tongue. "Just... just give me a moment..." she whispered instead, her lips just inches away from his chest.

"...I don't mind."

"Huh?" Katara's drugged like state caused her to wonder if she heard him right.

"...You're sweating pretty badly, and you don't look very well... I think its best if you just... stay where you are, I guess."

Normally the concept of laying anywhere within distance of the fire prince made Katara sick to her stomach. Now she could barely laugh at the irony of things. Here she was, feeling his body heat, and what made it worse...

She didn't mind either.

She blamed it all on the drug.

She never answered him back but neither did she try to move away from her position. Her head rested against his shoulders, her arms pressed against his chest as it slowly expanded up and down with Zuko's breathing. Katara found herself synchronizing her breathing with his, as if their two hearts beat as one.

Once again the minutes passed by without a word being exchanged by the two cell mates.

"I'm sorry." Again, it was Zuko who broke the silence.

"...For what?" Katara had never really allowed herself to hear the sincerity of those words before - they were coming from Zuko after all - but now in the confines of the dark room, she was compelled to listen to him.

"Well... about a lot of things. But mainly I wanted to say I'm sorry for before. About attacking you... and scorching your hair."

"My hair's already ruined anyway," Katara sighed, blowing a scorched lock discontentedly away from her face.

She tried weakly again to push herself off Zuko, but her world spun and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder again. "Ow, stop!" he groaned. "Just stop until you can move," he told her, his voice strained. "I still have an arrow wound, remember?"

Giving up, she allowed herself to relax against him, trying to breath the heavy air as her head pounded. Trying not to notice how her lips were almost touching his neck. As she waited for the spell to pass, a thought crossed her mind. "How do we always wind up here?"

"I'm... sorry?" Zuko asked.

She moved her head slightly so that her mouth was away from his neck, making her words less muffled. "In some grungy dark cell somewhere," she clarified, noticing that she could see his face now.

"Well, I just have horrible luck," he reasoned. "I don't know how you got in here."

"It's bad luck to be in a cell with me?" she demanded, her head lifting a little.

"It's bad luck to be in a cell at all," Zuko pointed out.

"I guess," she admitted, before letting her head drop back to his shoulder.

She flexed a fist a few times until she felt more in control of her arm, still focused vaguely on getting off Zuko. Testing the limb, she sadly fondled a scalded end of her hair. "Do you know why I always wanted long hair, Zuko?" she asked suddenly. He raised an eyebrow cautiously. She could tell he was afraid her mood would switch and she'd let him have it again. But right now, she just couldn't. She could barely do anything. Instead she stared at the sad, shriveled lock. "My mother had the longest, most beautiful hair. I used to love it."

She was surprised herself that she'd let him in on her small secret. Whether out of weariness, out of pain, or maybe just out of plain insanity, she wasn't sure. Katara didn't know why she was rambling to Zuko, much less confiding a well kept secret of hers to him. But at that moment she didn't really care. It just felt good to talk to someone, and to hear the reassuring sound of another's voice in this frightening place. "It was one of the things I remembered most about her before she died," she revealed.

Then Katara paused, letting the implications of her statement sink in. She waited for a moment, hoping for some sort of response; a laugh, a snort, a snicker. Something that would reinforce why she hated him in the first place. But Zuko's answer was none of the above. Instead, when he realize she was waiting for him to speak, he glanced down at her, awkwardly, but sadly too.

"I know. You told me... back then, about your mother, that is." That was all he said, but his voice carried the same sorrow it had held back in the crystal catacombs of Ba Sing Se; a memory that, for once, Katara didn't wish she would forget.

"...I don't really remember her that much," Katara admitted, dropping the lock and finally surrendering to her exhaustion. "It tears me up that she died, but now I whenever I tried to recall her face all I can remember is... nothing. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Zuko shrugged with one shoulder - the one she wasn't laying on. Suddenly, she hoped she wasn't drooling. "I can't say..." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes it's better like that. To not remember. It makes the pain of losing someone a little more bearable. It makes it... not hurt so much."

Katara swore she could hear a hint of sadness as Zuko spoke those words. Something told her he wasn't just talking about her.

"Maybe," she considered. "But I do remember her hair," Katara recalled. "So, to me, my hair's not just something I can grow back. It's one of the few things that helps me remember her so much." She realized talking was helping her focus.

Zuko turned his gaze on a lock of his own bangs curiously, as if he'd never really thought about his hair before. Katara hadn't thought it possible to look stoic while crossing your eyes, but somehow Zuko did it. "I'm not really that attached to mine."

"I can tell," she smirked.

To which Zuko replied with a funny sound, deep in his throat, and if Katara hadn't been pressed against him, able to feel his chest rise with each chuckle, and sense the low rumble in the base of his neck, she might not have believed it. "Was that a laugh?" she demanded. "Are you laughing?"

"No," he said quickly.

"I think you were."

"My mother had long hair too," he said suddenly, switching the subject. "I used to love her hair, so I think I understand."

"What... what happened to her?"

Zuko swallowed. "I don't know."

They were quiet for a time, and then Zuko sighed. "Rest," he commanded, tossing his head back, as if trying to make her more comfortable. "You're obviously not going to be moving soon, and the Warden could be here any time." "

"What?" she demanded, her voice breathy as she imagined sleeping like that, against... him... "I can't... sleep..." But he did feel so good...

"Rest," he repeated, in that voice that made everything feel safe and okay. "I'll keep watch."

Katara was too close to the edge to care anymore. Her mind was already drifting, and her body ached for rest. Finally surrendering, she relaxed onto the fire prince, letting her body nestle into his, the two fitting smoothly together. His broad shoulders felt as if they were meant for her to sleep on.

As her eyes blinked heavily, she watched his scarred face and wondered if, years ago, when she was running in fear of Zuko, could she have ever seen the strength in his features? She knew she never would have thought she'd wind up like this, sleeping on his shoulder, sitting in his lap. But even more strange - if that were possible - she realized something else she would have never predicted; his presence made her feel safe. It was an odd thought, to be directed at the man who had hunted them for so long. But it was true. With Zuko, she felt... safe. Even here, in a dark cell in the depths of the Fire Nation.

His golden eyes blinked, slowly, and her mind swam again.

Sighing, she stopped fighting, and drifted off.

It had only been about an hour or two after Katara had fallen asleep.

The metal bracers bit into Zuko's arms, causing them to itch and hurt, and his body ached from his previous skirmish with the prison guards. His bones creaked and he yearned to be able to stretch free from the infernal metal chair he was forced on. He was undeniably in an irritating, extremely uncomfortable position. Yet oddly enough, none of that seemed to matter as a warm Katara, fast asleep on his chest, gave him a strange, sensual feeling that seemed to counter all the aches. With every slight breath she exhaled, he felt her warm breath upon his cheek and neck, causing his heart to race. It felt... nice.

Zuko wasn't stupid.

The exotically dark skinned, blue-eyed waterbender was not just pretty. Now that he had a decent reason to look at her, he had to admit, she was beautiful beyond a doubt. And with her sleeping peacefully like that, without her face scowling at him, he was free to study each lovely aspect.

Being this close to her, being able to feel her soft skin upon his, being able to hear her own steady heart beat, seeing the fullness of her soft lips; he would have to be dead to not feel anything at all right now for the sleeping waterbender.

For a moment, he felt truly drawn to her, as if, for once, they truly were together in something. As if she was pulling him in. He might really have moved, if the infernal metal chair hadn't bit into his arms so rigidly.

But the moment's thought disappeared from his mind as he shook it off. This was insane. He did not just think that way about Katara. He grimaced at the thought of what she might have done to him should she have heard his thoughts.

Wasn't it her fault anyway for being here? He never would have been in this situation had she not stowed away and forced herself on their mission. But there was no way he would pin the blame on her like that. Not after she blew her own cover to save him from captivity. And I guess I blew mine with or without her... The thought was depressingly humbling.

With nothing else to do, he found himself looking at this sleeping girl again, with her long, dark hair that smelled of the cold south pole, he could hardly believe she was real at all. But it wasn't hard to figure Katara out, the more he thought of it, and there was little else to do. The prison guard who caught them had been right. She did care more about other people then herself.

...he envied that somewhat.

As long as he'd been alive, he had been taught that his life was not his own to make, but rather focusing what he could have done with it to serve his country was all that mattered. The duties of a Prince, the great lie of the Fire Nation, cared not for an individual. But Katara did. She was free to.

It was a freedom Zuko did not have.

He sighed quietly under his breath. This was going to be some torture alright. Although probably not quite like what the warden had in mind.

Finding it difficult to sleep, Zuko kept himself awake with long thoughts and heavy, relaxing breathing. Yet once more, his attention turned to Katara's slumbering face. He was so confused and conflicted about her. Like the element she aligned herself with, Katara was unpredictable. Peaceful like a small creak one second, raging like a powerful river the next. Hating him then, trusting him now. It was all too much.

His thoughts went back to the events of Ba Sing Se and his epic climatic battle with the Avatar and his waterbending Si Fu.

I thought you changed! her words echoed hard.

I have changed! his answer boomed back, equally loud in his head.

Zuko's golden eyes lowered. What a lie, he told himself. He could barely stand the shame of remembering it. He found it even harder to bear, with Katara's peaceful figure sleeping beside him.

"...I'm sorry..." He whispered softly in her ear, knowing she never would have heard him, even if she did reply back with a peaceful murmur.

And with that, fatigue caught up with the fire prince as his eye lids began to feel heavy, closing, and dragging his subconscious off into the dream world.

Zuko squinted painfully as the harsh light streamed in through the open door. "Katara," he hissed, and the girl stirred awake drowsily.

Quickly realizing they weren't the only ones in the room Katara managed to push herself off him with only a little effort, the effects of the drug apparently weakened with a little bit of rest.

"Well, well, well," the Warden's voice drawled. "Was I interrupting something here, Prince Zuko?" The Warden smiled sinisterly as he eyed both Zuko and Katara. "I never figured you to be the... cuddling type. But then again..." His eyes went up and down on Katara, taking her in, and for some reason, whether embarrassment or... something else, Zuko felt his anger rise.

"She's quite the looker," the Warden continued when he was done ogling. "A bit young I suppose but so exotic... don't you think?" He grinned; Katara answered with a hard stare. "Nevertheless," he droned on, "whatever the situation, I never would have thought I'd find you in here, Prince Zuko." Just the way the Warden said his name sounded like an accusation.

"Do you know me?" Zuko glared, managing to calm himself forcibly.

"How could I not?" the older man drawled. "You broke my niece's heart."

Zuko's mind wheeled brokenly, the calm he'd sought shattered. Finally he locked onto the Warden's meaning. "You're Mai's uncle?" he asked, aghast. And then the words sunk in. Mai? Heartbroken? "I never meant to hurt her-"

"Quiet!" the Warden barked, his knuckles slamming into Zuko's jaw, the force of the backhand knocking him and the chair over.

Zuko spat some blood as a guard righted him, heaving the heavy metal chair and it's occupant back upright before the Warden. Zuko run his tongue through his bloody mouth, noting a split lip. Katara, who wasn't one to just stand by and watch abuse, found herself moving to intercept the Warden but was halted as she felt the grip of the second strong prison guard upon her. Still recovering from the drug, she cursed silently as she watched helplessly, her arm twisted behind her, holding her both upright on her waving feet, and well clear of the Warden, and Zuko.

The Warden smiled. "You're my... special prisoner now. And you'd best behave." His eyes narrowed as he glanced behind him out of the cell. "If these prisoners found out who you are, the traitor prince who let his nation down, why, they'd tear you to shreds - and that's the upper level ones."

"You don't scare me," Zuko growled. "Blow all the steam you want. My father wants me alive, and I know that's how you'll keep me."

Zuko grunted in agony as the Warden's foot slammed into his stomach, his toe knocking against the open wound. Zuko rocked back in the chair from the impact of the blow, barely suppressing a cry. The chair slammed back into the ground, and he and his head lifted, golden eyes glowering. "You'll make life here hard for yourself if you keep that up," the Warden warned. "Here, I make the rules, and not even you, my Prince, are above them. Besides, you may have the Fire Lord's protection, but she," he glanced at Katara, who was held in place by the guard, still struggling pointlessly, "does not."

"What's in it for you?" Zuko asked, his voice dropping dangerously. "Why don't you just tell my father and collect your reward?"

"Oh, in due time, believe me, I intend to collect," he declared mysteriously. "But right now, I'm here to decide what to do with her. As much as I'd hate to keep such a cute couple apart, she can't just stay in your cell, you know."

Zuko's eyes darted back and forth between the Warden and Katara. Because they'd drugged Katara up, Zuko knew they feared her waterbending abilities, and judging by his confinement to the metal chair, they were rightfully cautious of his firebending as well. It wasn't surprising that the Warden would decide to separate the two. Two halves of a dangerous whole would be much easier to contain. But if they considered the two benders dangerous, maybe he could use that fear to get their cooperation.

"Don't hurt her, and I'll do whatever you say," Zuko bartered.

"You'll already do whatever I say," the Warden calculated, "whether I kill her or not."

"You obviously don't know who she is if you want to kill her," Zuko prodded.

"What? Are you fathering some bastard children with this waterbending monstrosity?" he barked, apparently no longer amused by the pairing. "Should I save her for Mai to slice up next time you crush her heart?"

Zuko's face blanched. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yes," he growled, in that dry, sure voice that made people listen. "You should save her for Azula." He heard Katara gasp. "Katara is the Avatar's waterbending teacher, and she's been traveling with him up until now. She has tons of information regarding him, his whereabouts and abilities, as well as being privy to all his plans. Plus, speaking from experience, if you have her, it's only a matter of time until the Avatar himself shows up - just in case you were wondering if she was my woman."

"Zuko!" Katara shouted in shock and anger, pulling against her guard roughly. "You lying treacherous -"

"Enough!" the Warden roared. "You've convinced me." He turned to the guard holding her. "Throw this girl in a high security cell, and keep all water away from her. Watch her closely, and make sure she doesn't bend." He glared at her. "You can walk free as long as you don't do anything stupid. But if you do, or if we catch you bending, you'll be chained up, night and day, with no water, until Princess Azula comes to collect. Do you understand me girl?"

Katara glared at him, her jaw clenched, obviously refusing to respond.

"Don't make this harder on yourself," he hissed, grabbing the top of her head roughly by her hair. "No bending, and you'll have the same rights as the other prisoners. Bend, attempt escape, or cause any kind of trouble, and you'll be locked down, got it?" he demanded, his face threateningly close to hers.

"I understand," Katara finally spat. "Now get me out of this bastard's cell."

Zuko stared after her as she was escorted out of the cell by the burly guards, begging for her to understand, to look back so that he could try and tell her it wasn't what it seemed. But she didn't look back. Not once. The Warden cracked a smile. "I don't think she knows what you just saved her from."

"I don't care," Zuko replied, trying to sound as if he didn't, feeling defeated but not broken.

"Of course, she'll be in for much worse when Princess Azula arrives... if what you say is true."

"She's coming?" Zuko demanded.

"Well, we'll see, won't we?"

The door slammed, and Zuko was left back in the dark with nothing but the Warden's calculating laughter and the thought of Azula on her way to keep him company.