I should probably edit this more before posting, but I really wanted to get this out for y'all. It's 3 am and I'm starting to fall asleep even as I type this but DAMMIT, THIS SHALL BE POSTED.

This is a definite fluff chapter. No point trying to paint it as anything but that. Here, we see our two favorite agnsty teens pine, because what kind of romance story would this be if people didn't suffer? XD

I hope that this chapter doesnt seem OOC. I might go back and edit, but honestly I thought a LOT about where our characters are mentally, and considering their relationship this seems like the most logical direction in my head. Then again, I'm sleep deprived...hmmm

If you like it, hate it, or have any suggestions...

PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter 23: Losing Grip

"You didn't!" Dakota managed to gasp, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she laughed. Obi grinned impishly, nodding and sipping at his tea as he waited for Dakota to contain herself.

The Leaf Shop was busy that afternoon, filled with patrons taking a quick break from Spring Festival planning and shopping. With the huge celebration only two weeks away, everyone was busy getting ready. One of the main dancing areas was a large open square just a few blocks from the teashop and so the street saw an abnormal amount of foot-traffic.

As if he knew he was being discussed, Zuko appeared at Obi's shoulder and scowled down at both of them. Unlike Dakota, he didn't have the day off, and so he was busy waiting tables.

"It wasn't that funny," he muttered. Dakota wiped at her eyes, beaming up at him.

"I'm just sorry that Obi didn't manage to woo you. You two would have made a very cute couple, and just in time for the Festival, too!" she teased.

"I'm sure he'll save me a dance, won't you Lee?" Obi asked innocently, batting his eyelashes, and Zuko's face burned as he hurriedly filled Dakota's teacup. Dakota thanked him, not even trying to hide the huge grin on her face. Golden eyes flickered around her face, settling on her eyes. Dakota's grin faded slightly as she found herself drawn farther forward, unable and unwilling to stop staring—

"Speaking of the Festival," Obi said loudly, causing Dakota to jump and hurriedly look away. "Have you two managed to procure dates, yet? It's customary to bring someone; only those looking for husbands and wives purposefully go solo."

Zuko didn't answer, and Dakota laughed as she replied, "So if I go alone, it's like wearing a big sign that says: 'Attention, Ba Sing Se, I'm a single girl in desperate need of a man'?"

Obi shrugged. "Basically," he said simply, and looked up at Zuko with a distinctly earnest expression. "You could always take Dakota, you know. Protect each other from the prowlers that are sure to have their eyes on you two."

Dakota shot Obi a withering glare. The smirk he gave her was smug; he knew what he was doing and wasn't in the least bit sorry. Dakota herself was very sorry that she had let Obi pry her feelings for Zuko out of her.

Zuko cared about her, sure, but to assume that he had any feelings beyond that was just asking for trouble. Worse, Zuko might feel pressured to ask her to the Festival just to rise to Obi's bait, and Dakota couldn't let that happen. Inevitably there would be dancing, and he would look down at her in that deep, intense way and then all her resolve would be clubbed to death before her very eyes.

"I—" Zuko began, but Dakota quickly interjected, forcing a laugh into her voice.

"I'm sure he'd rather take someone else. Besides, I already have a date," she said, pointedly keeping her eyes on Obi and not observing Zuko's reaction.

Thankfully, a customer chose that moment to call Zuko away. She breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to leave, leaning forward to put her head in her hands. The steam from her cup of tea swirled up into her face, failing to soothe her as it usually did. Her throat twisted, aching to call him back and tell him the truth.

But she didn't—couldn't. The fate of the world depended on her not altering the original timeline any more than she already had. Having Zuko fall for someone not in the Avatar world was most definitely not part of the original plotline, and so it couldn't come to pass. Until Fire Lord Ozai was defeated and the world saved, Dakota would do everything in her power to keep Zuko on his original path.

Being a good person was so hard.

"Care to let me know why you're torturing yourself?" Obi asked, stirring a cube of sugar into his tea. Dakota glanced around; Zuko was currently in the back retrieving more orders.

"I…I can't let anything happen. I want it, but…I just can't," she muttered miserably.

"You don't actually have a date, right?" Obi asked, laughing when Dakota gave him deadpan expression in response. "I assumed, but I still had to check."

Dakota propped her chin on her palm, watching as Zuko emerged from the back room. His shoulder muscles bunched pleasantly under his thin work shirt as he hefted a heavy plate of pastries, and Dakota bristled upon realizing that she wasn't the only one admiring the motion.

Several willowy Earth Kingdom noble girls were tittering to themselves in the corner, eyeing Zuko with blatant appreciation. Dakota's grip tightened on her teacup when Zuko reached their table, seemingly oblivious.

The bolder of the two girls gestured for him to lean in closer, her rich black hair gleaming in the light and her pale green eyes skillfully lined with kohl. Zuko bent down slightly, listening, and Dakota nearly spat out her drink at the sight of the girl giving him a bright green and pink card. She had seen a lot of those in the past few days—according to Iroh they were known as 'flower cards', and giving it to someone was the formal way of attaining partners for a festival.

Zuko slowly reached forward to accept the card. As he touched it, his eyes found Dakota's. His gaze was guarded, but Dakota could see the determination in it. The noble girl chattered to him, delighted, offering a well-manicured hand. Zuko looked away from Dakota, leaning down to brush his lips across the girl's knuckles—

"Annnnnd that's our cue to leave," Obi announced, and it was then that Dakota realized that she was shaking. Hurt and anger swelled up in her like bile, so furiously boiling in her gut that she was surprised she didn't vomit on the spot.

Dakota nodded numbly, letting Obi lead her out of the teashop. She was glad Iroh was busy making tea behind the double doors—he would have stopped her, demanded to know what was wrong. Dakota knew that Zuko was watching her leave but didn't let herself look back. She had no right to be upset. She had told him she had a date, so why was it so horrifying that he was going with someone else?

"Azumi is getting a new shipment of flowers today, how about we go help her, huh?" Obi chattered as they walked, and Dakota could sense that Obi was trying to help in the only way he knew how. His preference for men as well as women didn't make him any better at comforting distraught females.

Dakota was proud of how solidly she kept her tears in check, even managing to chat a little with Obi as they walked. Upon reaching Azumi's shop, however, all of her efforts crumbled.

The moment Dakota and Obi walked through the door, Azumi froze. Even behind a veil, the florist's sharp focus was clear. The woman immediately set the vase she was holding down on the counter, walking over to where the two stood.

"Oh, my dear," she whispered, and without waiting for a response swept Dakota up into a tight hug.

The feel of a mother's embrace—more delicate than Tali's had been, more reminiscent of Dakota's own mother—caused the floodgates to swing wide open. Dakota's face crumbled as tears spilled over her cheeks, and without thinking she clutched at Azumi, eagerly absorbing the solidness of the woman's embrace and the smell of jasmine and another spicy flower she had no name for.

"I'll take over from here," Azumi informed Obi, who laughed nervously.

"Thank the Spirits. I'll finish stuff out here, you guys go talk. If I finish early, I'll just go and get us some dinner," the older teen said, moving to finish Azumi's task of putting away the new shipment of vases.

Azumi gently led Dakota into the back room where a small circular table stood along with a few weathered chairs. The florist settled Dakota down in one of the chairs before seating herself, keeping a hand on Dakota's.

"Tell me," she said. It was a command, albeit a warm and sympathetic one.

And so Dakota told her. Obviously she didn't tell the woman everything, such as the reasoning behind her restraint and their true identities, but it was easy enough to tell the woman about Zuko's pointed acceptance of the other girl and his determination to have her see the act.

She was crying by the end, more heavily than before, and Azumi stroked her hand in a calming gesture. Dakota wished, as she often did, that the woman would reveal her face, as it felt very strange to seek comfort in someone whose features were unknown. But she knew better than to ask; Obi had warned her never to do so, as it was a matter of personal security to her.

"Lee wasn't trying to hurt you," Azumi said after a few moments of silence. Dakota lifted her head up, staring disbelievingly into the veil.

"Oh really? So looking me straight in the eye as he accepted wasn't an attempt to make me suffer? Of course he wanted me to see it, he was hurt—"

"—because you had just revealed that you accepted someone else's invitation. It was a false invitation, yes, but he doesn't know that. He himself was hurting and so he did the one thing he could think of to stop the hurt; he attached himself to someone else. It's a distraction, nothing more," Azumi explained, and Dakota sniffled. The woman's slender fingers twitched as if she longed to wipe Dakota's tears away. The movement was a silent confirmation that Azumi was a mother to her core.

"I shouldn't be this upset. I made this happen, I wanted him to focus on other things!" Dakota exclaimed, running her hands through her hair.

"But not on other people?" Azumi offered, and Dakota half-heartedly glared at the woman's amused tone.

Azumi chuckled before continuing, "In any case, logic becomes rather obsolete where matters of the heart are concerned, my dear. Whatever reasons drive you to keep Lee at a distance…they're dangling on a thread that is seconds away from snapping. You wouldn't be this upset if they weren't."

Dakota pushed off from the table, hugging herself tightly as she paced.

"But I can't. I'm not even sure he likes me that way, so that's another can of worms entirely, but…I...he…he needs to not be with me, so it doesn't matter what either of us feels! I know it sounds crazy and I can't tell you more so please don't ask, but me influencing him could literally mean the end of the world. God, saying it sounds even crazier than in my head! This world is in danger and yet all I can think about is trying to stay away from a boy. I'm basically reenacting every young adult fantasy novel ever written and it sucks!" she shouted.

For all of her fear that someone would figure out her secret, it felt good to speak those thoughts aloud. It made them real and not just random ideas running circles around her head.

Azumi was quiet for a long time. Dakota stared at her exposed fingers, struggling to analyze every detail as if it would help her see Azumi more clearly. Even when smudged with dirt and fertilizer, the woman's hands spoke of elegance. The fingers were covered in callouses but the nails were perfectly kept; short enough to not get in the way but clearly receiving attention and a clear coat of polish at regular intervals.

Dakota glanced at her own hands and couldn't help the slight cringe that crossed her face as she compared. Her hands were much smaller, and the nails bitten short—not even the trauma and adaptation of being transpoted to a different dimension could break her of her nail biting habit. She tried to do it only when she was alone, but…

"Do you want my honest advice, or do you need someone to tell you that you're right?"

Azumi's question was so quiet and serene that it took Dakota by surprise. She swayed on the spot before finding her balance, sinking back into her chair and staring at the woman. Her instinct was to say the second one, because how could there be any other option?

But something in Azumi's tone made her pause, urged her to say:

"Honest advice, please."

"Live for right now, this exact moment. The future hasn't come to pass—" Azumi paused to put a hand up, halting Dakota's attempt to interject.

"—and you're wasting time. We so often take for granted the time we have with those we love. Sometimes we watch them fade away right in front of us, and other times separation comes unexpectedly," Azumi said slowly, and Dakota could practically see the sadness swelling around her form. "But in the end, we lose them. So why waste any time focusing on what may or may not be? If the world is meant to be saved, it will be saved."

Memories of Dakota's family poured in so quickly and suddenly that Dakota felt like if she inhaled too deeply, her lungs would stop working and leave her gasping for air.

Every single day, Dakota had moments where she wished she could go back in time and say more to her family. She wouldn't dismiss Henry's stories with a roll of her eyes, she would sit down and listen and engage. She would hug her father for as long as he would let her; ask him to sing so the vibrations of his voice would resonate into her chest for her to keep forever. She would watch her mother paint and ask her questions upon questions about everything.

But the past was in the past, and Dakota's heart was slowly accepting that there was a chance she would never see her family again. It would never stop hurting, but she would live her life.

As far as she knew, this strange magical world was her present and future. Zuko was someone she could touch and talk to right now. What if the next part of their journey took him away for good? What if something happened to make it so that Dakota never saw him again?

The thought made Dakota's eyes burn, but she pushed forward, forcing herself to consider it.

If he were to disappear tomorrow, would I regret holding back?

Yes, yes she would. It was likely that Zuko didn't have feelings for her, but it didn't matter—she didn't have to confess her feelings to still appreciate his presence in her life and enjoy every moment she had with him.

Dakota sucked in a shallow breath, leaning forward and staring down at the grain of the table. The lines were strategic and orderly and yet at a glance the swirling designs seemed random.

One of Azumi's beautiful hands settled on her face, soft in spite of the callouses and gentle while still being firm.

"Be grateful for this pain. It means that you've found something worth holding on to."

Dakota didn't have anything to say to that. Azumi got up from her chair, then, and went into the kitchen. Not another word was spoken between them, and hours passed. Dakota busied herself with cleaning the main flower display room, not quite ready to leave, and Azumi let her.

Obi still hadn't returned even as night began to fall. Even though she said nothing it was clear that Azumi was worried. Just as Dakota was about to offer to look for him he walked through the door, rubbing his face tiredly.

"You better head back to Leaf Shop—Lee was attacked by this crazy civilian shouting some stuff about Firebending. The Dai Li took the civilian away, but I still gotta fill out some paperwork…"

Dakota's body tensed. "Is Lee okay?" she asked quickly, standing and heading to the door.

Obi nodded. "A little banged up but nothing serious. You all good?" he asked, holding her at arms length. Dakota looked over at Azumi, who was staring at the two of them—well, her face was pointed in their direction at least.

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you for talking with me, Azumi. For being honest," Dakota said.

Azumi bowed her head before turning to pour another cup of tea. Obi smiled, one of his real smiles that were few and far between. It made Dakota smile, too, and lean into the older boy's hug when he held up his arms.

"See you soon," Obi murmured into her hair, and Dakota nodded into his chest. The tall Earthbender soon pulled away, taking a step back.

"Now get out of here! Lover-boy is waiting," he ordered, waving his hand dismissively. Dakota didn't even think to object to Obi's nickname—she was already out the door.

Zuko yelped as Iroh dabbed some cleaning fluid onto the shallow cut on his shoulder. He swatted his uncle away, taking the rag and doing it himself. Iroh didn't protest too much, but remained close by. They were sitting in their apartment, Zuko shirtless and sitting cross-legged while Iroh sat beside him. After putting the shop furniture back into place Pao had gone to bed, but the two still took care to whisper, in case he was awake.

"We are lucky that Dakota wasn't here when it happened," Iroh mused.

Even though Zuko was still inexplicably irritated at her—you know why, his thoughts hissed at him—he couldn't help the small smirk that lifted his lips.

"She would have burned the shop down," he muttered, gritting his teeth against the stinging pain. Iroh chuckled at that, and seemed about to respond when the door clicked open and Dakota burst in, cheeks bright red from exertion and her eyes finding Zuko immediately.

"What happened? Obi told me that someone attacked you?" she exclaimed, smiling guiltily when Iroh put a finger to his lips to signal that she should lower her voice. Zuko tried not to react too much when she immediately touched his shoulder, examining the wound as gently as she could. Despite his irritation with her, her touch still made him feel a little less weighed down. He felt Iroh's knowing stare on him and glared at the man when Dakota turned to grab a bandage.

"I'll leave Zuko to tell the story. I will see you both in the morning," Iroh announced softly before moving behind his personal screen that separated his sleeping area from the others. They all had one, for when they needed to change, though Zuko and Dakota's were open to leave more space for moving around.

"Goodnight," Dakota said, and turned back to Zuko. As she helped bandage his wound Zuko found himself staring at her. Her lips were parted slightly as she worked, and he could have sworn he caught her staring at his collarbone. But when he shifted, she just smiled at him and continued, so maybe he had been imagining it.

He scowled. The attack by the strange boy was unexpected, to say the least, but it did pose a very important question: should Zuko do something about the Avatar's stolen bison? If people were beginning to suspect that Zuko and his uncle were Firebenders, how long would it be before they were discovered? The Earth King would have them executed…where would that leave Dakota?

"I know where the sky-bison is," Zuko said very quietly, almost under his breath, but from the sharp intake of breath he knew that Dakota heard. She looked up at him, the smile gone from her lips but her eyes sharp and alert.

"And what are you going to do?" Dakota asked. She was fighting so hard to not show any emotion, and Zuko almost laughed at how easily he could read her.

"I know you want me to let it go free, but we're not safe here. One person attacked me because he thought Iroh and I were Firebenders. We slipped under the radar tonight, but now people are going to be on the lookout for it. The bison gives us leverage—we can lure the Avatar out of Ba Sing Se if we take it," Zuko explained, feeling that conflicted energy rise up in him again and resisting the urge to reach for her hand. What was wrong with him?

Dakota sighed, sitting next to him. She was so close that Zuko could smell the faintest hint of jasmine on her skin, could feel the heat of her leg as it just barely touched his knee. He swallowed hard and looked up at the ceiling, counting cracks in the plaster wall to distract himself. He reached twenty before Dakota spoke:

"I don't know. I just hate the thought of using the bison to get at Aang. It would be like someone using my brother to make me do something. It just seems cruel," she said quietly.

Zuko swore under his breath, falling back onto his sleeping mat, ignoring the pain that accompanied the movement. He hated to admit it, but Dakota's words made sense. Every time he had faced the Avatar in the past, it had been face to face. It did seem cheap to use the bison to force the Avatar to submit.

Using the bison against the boy seemed like something Azula would do, and that thought effectively gave him his solution.

Zuko sat up, grabbing his shirt from where he discarded it and putting it on.

"Grab me some paper, will you?" he asked, and Dakota fished some from out of her pack, clearly confused. Zuko picked up a writing brush from the small basket his uncle stored their writing supplies in and began to write a message. Dakota leaned over his shoulder, watching as he wrote.

"What exactly are you doing?" she asked.

"Writing down how to find the bison. I'm going to leave this where the Avatar and his friends will find it."

As he wrote, it occurred to Zuko that it had been a long time since he had made any concrete plans to capture the Avatar. He had been so busy with the teashop that the idea had slipped his mind more and more until it was just a whisper of a desire every now and then.

Dakota's chin dropped to rest on his uninjured shoulder. Zuko paused in his writing in order to tilt his head slightly towards her. He couldn't see her face, but could feel her jaw shift as she smiled.

"What?" he asked, a bit more harshly than he intended. But she just shook her head, leaning her head to one side in order to meet his gaze. She didn't say anything, just looked at him with a small smile on her face. In the light of the three bright lamps in the room, her face was shadowed and her hair gleamed like burnished gold. Her eyes were slightly puffy—had she been crying?

"I'm just glad that we met. Weird, right? When I got pulled onto the ship, the first thing you did was put a sword up to my neck," Dakota said, her eyes shining with mirth. Zuko snorted, finishing his letter without a signature and setting it aside to dry.

"What was I supposed to do, invite you in for tea and mochi cakes?" Zuko muttered.

"Yes, that's exactly what you should have done," Dakota agreed, giggling when Zuko scoffed. Neither of them moved from their positions, however, even as the minutes ticked by and turned into an hour. They continued to talk, softer and softer as the night dragged on.

Zuko wasn't quite sure how it happened, but somehow Dakota ended up curled up next to him, his fingers lightly stroking through her hair as he told her a story about his first Firebending lesson. She had fallen asleep a while ago, but Zuko hadn't wanted to stop touching her. Pretending that he didn't know she was asleep seemed the most logical course of action.

After briefly leaving in order to roll up his letter and place it by his pillow, Zuko returned to Dakota and gently shook her awake.

"Get into your bed," he ordered. Dakota scrunched her nose at him, still half-asleep.

"Nooooo," she groaned, curling up into a tighter ball.

Zuko let out a short breath through his nose, unwilling to admit just how strong the urge to curl up behind her and hold her was. Instead, he hooked his forearms under her knees and upper back and hoisted her up and onto her own sleeping mat.

He found himself looking down at her as she stretched out, watching her muscles shift and her toes curl as she made herself more comfortable. It was like watching a sleepy kitten try to find a good sleeping position. Zuko never would have thought to compare Dakota to a cat but in that moment it seemed to fit.

Dakota's body stilled as she settled into sleep, her face smoothing out and her breathing becoming more even.

Zuko's earlier irritation seemed much more muted now, and as he watched her sleep, he wondered why that was. Maybe it was the fact that even though someone else was taking her to the Festival, only he got to see Dakota like this. What did he care if someone took her to a single night of dancing? Zuko was the only one who had ever felt her soul's energy in his chest like a second heartbeat. Sometimes, when he bent fire, he could still feel echoes of Dakota's fire inside of him, reverberating like a distant song.

The banished prince sighed, resisting the urge to touch her again. He settled for pulling the blanket up around her the best he could, pulling back once she was covered.

"I'm glad, too," he said.

Zuko's confession went unheard by anyone but himself, but it still felt like something.

Shaking his head, the boy went to his own bed, blowing out the lamps as he went until only one was burning. Once he was situated in his blankets Zuko turned his head to extinguish the final flame, catching once last glimmer of golden hair before the room went pitch black.