I am SO SORRY it took me over two months to get this out to you. I finished up my other chapter-fic AU and wrote an angsty one-shot sort of fix-it fic in the meantime. And school sucks. And I had to draw my friend's Christmas gift.

Again: so sorry. I wish I had written this sooner, because once I got back into the swing of things, I had fun!

"Sherlock," all the air rushed out of John's lungs and he cupped the side of Sherlock's neck, joy tingling in his stomach. "You have a plan?"

He nodded enthusiastically, grinning madly.

"How long have you been planning?"

"A couple weeks or so. I was struggling to come up with a rational way to get out of here, but this, John," he grabbed John's hand from his neck, "these will be very helpful." In a fit of glee, Sherlock kissed the tops of both of John's hands.

John bit his lip, fighting a smile. That was the most affectionate thing Sherlock had done thus far, and the spontaneity of it was kind of sweet. "How so?"

"Your ability makes things much easier. Give me a moment to modify my plan."

"Okay," John nodded, feeling giddy for the first time in months. He watched in amusement as Sherlock's eyes darted back and forth rapidly, seemingly reading a blueprint in his head.

Sherlock blinked and snapped his eyes back to John. "I'm done."

John snorted. "All right, then. Tell me."

"There will be a new shipment of prisoners tomorrow. I imagine you don't remember being brought here?"

"No," John said honestly. "I was unconscious."

"I thought so. Well, the prisoners are brought here on a Fire Nation airship, which lands on a platform on the outer ring of the mountains surrounding this island. Then, a gondola takes people to the mainland."

John raised his eyebrows. "I can't believe I was out for all of this."

"You'd sustained a severe, painful injury. Losing consciousness is not an uncommon occurrence."

"Right. So, there's a gondola and an airship. Are we getting on the airship?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "But, it will not be an easy task. The Fire Nation soldiers who will bring the new prisoners will certainly notice that there will be more men leaving than how many they initially brought with them."

"We can't just sneak on there and drive the airship ourselves?"

"Do you know how to drive an airship?"

"Good point. Are we going to, what, force the pilot to direct us home?"

"Precisely. He'll do it if we threaten his life."

John felt like he should have had objections to threatening a man's life, but he didn't. It's not like they would actually kill the man if he refused, anyway. At least, Sherlock wouldn't kill him.

"How am I supposed to get on?" John gestured to his filthy rags. "Look at me."

"You underestimate me," Sherlock said simply, not annoyed. "If I provide you with a spare uniform, you'll fit right in. Temporarily, at least."

"Where will you get an extra uniform?"

"I'll steal one while everyone is bathing."

John laughed. "All right, then. Glad to know you have no qualms with stealing."

"It's for a good cause," Sherlock shrugged. "Do you have qualms with stealing from the Fire Nation?"

"Absolutely not," John said happily. "When will you steal it?"

"Tomorrow morning, that way I have enough time to bring it to you and we can get ready."

"Won't people ask why you're walking around with an uniform in your hands?"

"There's a simple way to avoid unnecessary questions: if you say it's for the Warden, no one will bat an eye. We won't be staying long enough to get discovered."

John nodded, taking it all in. It could work, but he was afraid to get his hopes up. "You said they'll probably notice we're out of place. What do we do then?"

"That's where your marvelous skill comes in," Sherlock nodded toward John's hands. "No one in the world knows this wonder exists. Other than us, of course."

John looked down at his hands, a small smile on his face. Hearing direct praise from Sherlock suddenly made him bashful. No one ever thought anything about him was special before. "What, so I'll have to be the big, strong man and protect you?" John joked.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock frowned, "I'll be Firebending, too. I won't leave you to fight by yourself."

"I was just teasing," John reassured. In a way, John was looking forward to a battle tomorrow. He hadn't beat the shit out of anyone in months, and he was itching for a good fight. That was probably unhealthy, but he never claimed to be a normal man. He missed feeling adrenaline, the blood pumping through his veins. Being in isolation had only increased his anger. Thank god for Sherlock, or he really would have gone insane. He then thought about Sherlock Firebending, and how it was probably a sight to behold.

"I don't think I've seen you Firebend the entire time here," John pointed out.

"I don't bother unless it's an emergency," Sherlock said. "It uses energy, and most of the time, the prisoners aren't worth it."

"Are you any good?"

"I'm excellent," Sherlock said quickly, eyes narrowing.

John laughed. "You sound a bit defensive, there."

Sherlock glared at him, "You doubt me?"

"No, just wondering if you've got any right to be walking around with your head up high. Are you a good Bender, or just pompous? Maybe both?" He knew he was getting Sherlock riled up, but it was all in good fun, and seeing Sherlock looked like an offended peacock was pretty funny. Sherlock was still glaring, chin up in the air, nostrils flaring slightly. His lip quivered almost imperceptibly.

Sherlock said nothing and lifted his hand, and a large flame emerged. But this flame wasn't orange, yellow, or red. It was bright blue, the center almost white. The small cell was filled with glowing blue light, and John was entranced by its beauty. It was a pale blue, the color resembling the sky in the early afternoon.

"I didn't know it could be blue," he said quietly.

"Blue is more powerful," Sherlock said, voice rumbling. His gaze locked onto John, and his eyes were almost identical to the color of the fire. The heat of the flame was making his face flush, his cheeks turning pink. He closed his long fingers over his palm, and the flame vanished instantly. "Have you ever seen someone bend lightning?" he asked.

John shook his head. "Never. You can do that?"

"Yes. It's not a common ability. I believe the Princess can do it. She's a prodigy of some sort," he said with a smidgen of disgust.

John grimaced. "I heard she's an absolute menace."

"I've heard the same. The Warden fears her."

"Can I see the lightning?"

Sherlock almost flinched. "No. I'm unable to do it in here, and I wouldn't want to. It's dangerous and I'd hurt you."

John thought about what it would feel like to be burned by blue fire. Getting injured by regular fire fucked up his shoulder enough. It still hurt a little and there was certainly a scar forming. Blue fire would at least double the pain of a regular burst of flames. "God, I can't imagine what you'd be like at the front lines. You could probably take out a whole unit."

"Maybe," Sherlock said, almost solemnly. He looked uncomfortable.

John shuddered at the thought of facing Sherlock on the battlefield. He, of course, had no desire to hurt Sherlock now, but just thinking about what it would have been like made John uneasy. He was confident in his Earthbending abilities, but none of the soldiers he ever faced produced blue fire, or bent lightning. If he faced Sherlock now, he would have to use Metalbending to win. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't hurt Sherlock. He hated that he wanted to harm Sherlock in the beginning. But their relationship changed so much since then.

It occurred to him that he was being ridiculous. Sherlock came up with a plan for them to be free! He should be happy. He stepped closer to Sherlock and kissed his jaw. "Do you think this will work? The plan?"

"I believe so, yes," Sherlock said. He smiled softly, "Don't worry, John. I'll get you out of here."

"Where will we go after the airship lands?"

Sherlock's smile faltered. "It will land in the Fire Nation. I forgot to mention: we'll be receiving a bit of help."

"Yeah?"

Sherlock looked annoyed, "Remember I told you about my brother?"

"The one in the government?"

"Yes."

"What about him?"

"He's going to pull some strings," he said regretfully. "Hopefully, we won't be met with much trouble when we land. We'll have to hide out in his house until the end of the war, I'm afraid."

"Wait, so your brother is going to break the law for us? How did you convince him to do that?"

"We've been writing letters to each other for weeks." He sighed, "It may have take some begging, but he agreed. We'll have to work out the details once we actually land. We've only been able to communicate so much over the past few weeks."

"How did you send letters? We're in the middle of the sea."

Sherlock's nose scrunched up, "Stop questioning the logistics of things. My brother has ways."

"Okay, okay," John chuckled. "Whatever gets us out, I won't ask questions."

"Good," Sherlock pursed his lips, and John had to kiss them.

"You're really getting us out," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He believed Sherlock, he just couldn't believe it was happening. Nothing good ever happened to him. He placed his hand on the side of Sherlock's face gently and stroked a sharp cheekbone with his thumb. "You're really doing this for me."

"I am," he said softly.

John smiled warmly, "I don't know how I could repay you."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, John. First of all, we haven't escaped yet. Secondly, I expect nothing in return. I only want you to be happy." Sherlock looked down. "Preferably, with me," he mumbled.

"Of course with you," John playfully shoved his shoulder. Something dawned on him, and his eyes widened. "Wait, we've only been, you know," he coughed delicately, "for a week or so. You've been planning this since before that?"

Sherlock's cheeks colored. "Well, yes, I…" He swallowed. "Ever since I thought of you as a friend, I wanted to get you out. I had hoped this-progression-would occur, but even if it hadn't, I would have escaped with you anyway." He was speaking quickly now, playing with his hands, "Even if we were just friends, I would have been happy to commit treason for you. I just want you out of here. I'm not selfless, don't misunderstand me, because I thought that maybe, if we hadn't been, you know, by then, our relationship could progress while we were in hiding. I've wanted this, John, and I can't act like I'm-"

John shut Sherlock up by hugging him. He just couldn't help it. Sherlock was so damned...cute. "Sherlock, shush," John said into his neck. "It's all right. Don't feel like you need to apologize for wanting this with me."

"I didn't apologize," Sherlock mumbled, wrapping his arms around John.

"It sounded like you were about to."

John's nightmare of Sherlock flashed into his mind, and he shivered and held Sherlock tighter. What if they lost tomorrow and weren't able to see each other again? What if Sherlock got killed? John squeezed Sherlock, drawing a little oomph! out of him.

"Sorry," John laughed weakly.

"It's okay," Sherlock cupped John's cheek and tilted his face up, "is something bothering you?"

"We could lose tomorrow," John said.

"Technically, yes. I won't deny that. But we won't." Sherlock kissed his forehead. "And if we go down, we go down together."

"Yeah," John said, emotion welling up inside of him. He kissed Sherlock, savoring the sensation of those soft, plump lips under his. They kissed softly, but deeply, clinging on to each other with the weight of tomorrow upon them. John sucked Sherlock's bottom lip gently, hand sliding down to grip his hip. Sherlock took John's upper lip in his mouth, groaning so quietly John nearly missed it. They parted with a wet little smack and John kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, cheekbone, and latched onto the spot behind Sherlock's ear, sucking.

It was really hitting John now: Sherlock was getting him out. He was about to commit treason for him. John could not express his gratitude into words. If it actually worked (and he hoped it god it would), John might actually cry with happiness. Maybe not cry, but he'd get pretty close to it. He could hardly believe this was the man he couldn't stand when he first arrived at the Boiling Rock. So much changed. He felt like a new man.

Sherlock gasped and let his head fall back, "My neck, John, please."

John moved his lips to Sherlock's Adam's apple, sucking it, trailing his lips down to his collarbone, and biting. He soothed the bite with gentle kisses, cock twitching at Sherlock's increasingly needy moans. He loved how sensitive Sherlock was. He felt Sherlock's growing erection against his hip, and he pushed their groins together.

Sherlock's knees began to shake, and John wrapped his arms around his waist to support him. Their hips thrust together and John had to stop himself before they took things further.

"Do you have time? Can you stay for a few more minutes?" John asked.

Sherlock's eyes were shut from pleasure, but then his eyebrows furrowed, and he opened them. "How long have I been here?"

"I don't know, ten minutes? I lost track."

Sherlock sighed and took a small step away from John, putting space between them. "I'm afraid I should go," he said, sounding a little breathless. His face was red, and John knew his chest must have been covered with a beautiful blush, too. "I only came here to find out what that noise was. They'll all be suspicious if I don't go back soon."

John almost forgot what Sherlock was talking about, but then he looked up at the metal panel he brought up to the ceiling by stomping on the floor. "Okay." He looked at Sherlock and grinned, "After tomorrow, we won't have to worry about running out of time, yeah?"

Sherlock grinned back. "Exactly." He kissed John briefly on the lips. "Tomorrow morning I shall bring the uniform for your disguise, and then we'll go from there. You should practice your Metalbending tonight in the most quiet way possible."

John rolled his eyes, "I'll try. Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Goodnight, John. Tomorrow, we'll be free."

I think it's only natural that Sherlock would have the same Firebending abilities as someone like Azula. I love her blue fire.

Also, for those of you who watched Avatar (there are some people who haven't but are reading this anyway, which I greatly appreciate!) I drew Katara from "The Puppetmaster" with mechanical pencil.

The picture can be found here (remove spaces because this site is a bitch): a - lollipop - tries - to- draw . tumblr post / 132344812097 / katara - in - fire - nation - garb - from - the

Just shamefully self-promoting.