Premonitions

"Katara, are you crying?"

It was easy to see why Aang would assume that she was. Katara sat all alone in Tenzin's bedroom, curled up in the center of his bed and surrounded by keepsakes and mementos that spanned all twenty-three years of their youngest son's life. The scene was rather depressing. Tears, then, would be completely understandable. Yet even with that reasonable consideration, Katara still ducked her head in an effort to conceal the fact she was weeping at all. Aang heaved a despondent sigh, not at all fooled by her furtive attempt.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" he pressed gently.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm not crying," she mumbled, deliberately avoiding his eyes, "I'm sitting here trying to figure out how Tenzin managed to accumulate so much junk over the years. I thought monks were supposed to be opposed to material attachment. Did you skip that lesson with him?"

Unfortunately, her bravado was weak and the quiver in her voice was more than evident. Moved with empathy for her, Aang closed the distance between them and climbed up onto the bed, sifting through the piles and piles of Tenzin's scattered belongings to scoot next to her. The instant he drew her into his arms, Katara dissolved into harsh tears. Aang cradled her against him, stroked her back and brushed soothing kisses through the waves of her loosened hair, murmuring his words of comfort while he waited for her sobs to subside.

When they finally died down into intermittent hiccups, Aang lovingly cupped her cheek and turned her face up for his lingering kiss. Katara gripped his shirtfront tightly as she returned his kiss, as if needing to physically affirm that he was still there with her. A few moments later, when he lifted his head again, he found himself falling into the glistening canvas of her bright, blue eyes as he inevitably did whenever he looked at her. At 55 years of age, Katara was a far cry from the girl who had liberated him from that iceberg so long ago. Comparatively too, at 53, Aang had also changed very much from the boy she had found.

They now had a few more gray hairs accompanied by a few more wrinkles and a few more aches and pains, but also a lot more wisdom. They shared several grandchildren and yet one another waiting to be born. They had seen two of their three children married and starting families of their own and the third seemingly headed down that same road. And now they were dealing with the reality of their youngest child, their last child, leaving home to begin his final transition into adulthood.

The sun was beginning its slow descent on their generation and preparing to rise with the new, however the love between Aang and Katara was as young and fresh as it had been from its beginning. It was a bond that was enduring and timeless and so powerful that it would very likely continue renewing itself even long after the two of them had ceased to physically walk the earth. It was stronger than all the cosmic energy in the universe and it always would be. And that was exactly what Aang saw when he looked into Katara's eyes…he saw their entire love story reflected in those sparkling depths.

He smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he asked, "Feel better now?"

Katara shrugged out of his arms to dab self-consciously at the corners of her eyes with the hem of her shirt. "You must think I'm being incredibly silly."

"Nope. Not at all. Our baby just left home. I expected you to take it hard."

"And what about you?" Katara pressed wryly, "You're not locked away somewhere weeping hysterically."

Aang gathered her back against him with a rumbling laugh. "That's because I'm focusing on the positives, sweetie."

She angled an arch look at him over her shoulder. "And what positives would those be?"

"I get to have you all to myself," he growled into her neck playfully.

Katara grunted in an effort to mask her answering giggle. "You really are a lecherous old man, Aang."

He reared back with a small, wounded whimper. "That really hurts me, Katara." He pouted. "I am not old."

"But you are lecherous," she teased.

"Guilty as charged."

Katara settled back into the circle of his arms with a contented sigh. "I love how you do that."

"Do what?"

"Make me laugh when I don't want to." She swept up his hand and brought it to her lips. "I love you, Aang."

"I love you," he whispered against her ear.

"And I know that I'm being ridiculous right now," Katara reasoned aloud, "Tenzin is coming back home. After all, we're only talking about a six month pilgrimage to visit the Air Temples, but…a lot can change in six months, Aang. He did take Lin with him when he left."

"What? Do you think they're going to come back home married and with an armful of babies?" Aang laughed, "Not a chance, Katara. Neither of them is in that headspace right now."

"You never know…" Katara considered, "Take Bumi, for example. We never thought he'd settle on one woman let alone fall in love and get married. But, by the time he was done with his first tour with the United Forces, he had already met Hikari and asked her to marry him."

"And now they're expecting their second child together," Aang sighed in disbelief, "That seems like a lifetime ago."

"Not to mention Kya and Kamik and their new set of twins." Katara expelled a wistful sigh. "Can you believe Miki is almost twelve years old?"

"How can that be when I still feel twelve?" Aang asked, "When did we become so old, Katara?"

She tipped a laughing glance up at him. "A minute ago you said you weren't old," she reminded him.

"Well, talking about all these grandchildren has changed my perspective a little," he replied grumpily, "Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?" Katara wondered sullenly.

"Like dinner. It's getting late and I'm hungry."

Katara twisted around to pin him with narrowed blue eyes. "Is that your not so subtle way of asking me to make you dinner, Aang? Because, as far as I can tell, you have two perfectly good hands that aren't broken."

"No, oh surly one," Aang murmured in a rumbling chuckle against her ear after she presented him with her back, "I was thinking that I could make you dinner."

She glanced at him again, but this time her look was one of sheepish remorse. "Oh."

"So what do you want?" he asked her, "I'm taking requests."

"Aang, you can't cook," Katara informed him in the gentlest of tones.

He drew himself upright with an insulted scowl. "I beg your pardon! Weren't you the same woman who just told me not one minute ago that I have 'two perfectly good hands that aren't broken?'" he finished in mocking falsetto, "Now you're saying I can't cook? What's up with that?"

"I'm only stating the facts."

"Well, I never!" Aang huffed.

"That's exactly my point," she joked.

When his response to that was a humorless laugh, Katara scooted around to face him and rested on her knees between his legs, reaching out to frame his face between her hands. "Aww, did I hurt your feelings?" she teased him.

He made quite a production of pouting. It was easy enough to discern the amusement lurking in the dark, gray depths of his eyes, but Aang played hard to get nonetheless. When Katara attempted to kiss him, he stubbornly turned his face aside so that her lips only grazed the corner of his mouth. Choking back her own laughter and refusing to be deterred, Katara nibbled sweetly against that spot before he finally gave in, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. Before either of them realized it, Katara was straddling Aang's lap and their lighthearted teasing had escalated into ardent kissing.

She broke away from Aang with a breathless smile when his hands went on a meandering trek beneath her shirt. "We're making out in our son's bed," she remarked in a husky tone, "This can't be good."

"So we'll go make out in our own," Aang suggested, already grasping hold of her hand to tug her off in that very direction.

"Not so fast, airbender," Katara laughed, "You can't just tease a girl with dinner and then drop the subject entirely because your libido is calling."

Aang regarded her with an exasperated groan, although the naughtiness gleaming in his wanton stare was apparent. "Katara, have a heart," he pouted, "I'm not a young man anymore. Unfortunately, I've reached an age that, when the libido calls, I need to answer it because I can't always be too sure when it's going to call again."

It was the dejected look of entreaty on his face while he made that statement that caused Katara to dissolve into a fit of giggles. He was full of it and they both knew it. Aang's libido was perfectly healthy and "called" quite often. His sheer gall only heightened Katara's mirthful chortles. She had to clamp her hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter over his shameless attempt to guilt her into sex.

"Your amusement at my expense hurts deeply. But you're right, I suppose," Aang conceded with a growing smile, compelled by her infectious humor, "A promise is a promise." He rolled from the bed and pulled her with him. "Let's get to it then."

As Katara curled up onto the sofa and listened to the discordant sounds coming from her kitchen while her husband banged around her pots and pans, she began to wonder if Aang's dinner idea was a bit too ambitious. It had been quite a few years since he'd handled anything particularly complicated in the kitchen, especially on his own. Usually Katara was present to supervise and ensure that he didn't burn down the place. Given that fact, it was difficult not to fidget nervously at the thought of him having free reign of her kitchen, especially with all the clanging and thumping around going on in there.

"Aang?" she called out anxiously, "Everything okay in there, sweetie?"

"I'm good," he called back, "Did you rearrange in here by any chance?"

The question did not comfort her. Katara hopped up from the sofa. "I'm coming to help you, Aang."

However, she hadn't taken two steps towards the kitchen before he popped his head out. "Don't take another step," he warned her, "The kitchen is off limits to you until further notice. Now run along. Go read a book or something."

"Aang, if you destroy my kitchen…" Katara sighed in hanging threat.

He grinned at her broadly. "Sweetie, this is me. I've got this."

Somehow Katara didn't find his reassurance at all reassuring. Still skeptical, but not wanting to stifle his excitement either, Katara reluctantly resumed her perch on the sofa and waited. He was still being ridiculously loud, but she was comforted by the fact that there were no tendrils of smoke unfurling from behind her. Eventually, Katara was able to relax enough to let herself get engrossed in a book. Yet, no sooner had she gotten into the plot than the lemony aroma of baked foodstuffs began wafting through the living room, effectively distracting her from her tale. Setting aside her book entirely, Katara gave the air a suspicious sniff.

"Aang, it doesn't smell like you're making dinner at all," she called out to him, "It smells a lot like dessert."

"And who says that you can't have dessert for dinner?" he countered cheekily, emerging from the back with a freshly baked fruit pie in his mitted hands. He presented the baked dish to Katara with all the flourish of a palace servant. "For you, Master Katara…raspberry-lemon fruit pie kissed with a hint of cream."

She fixed him with an adoring smile. "You baked me a pie?"

"I baked you a pie."

Katara dissolved into sentimental tears. "You baked me a pie!"

"Yeah, I did," he confirmed again somewhat wryly, "but I wouldn't recommend crying into it because that would really ruin the flavor." Katara emitted a teary giggle. "So are you going to eat it?" Aang asked, "Or do you need a minute to pull yourself together?"

"It's just that I know you used to make fruit pies with Gyatso when you were young," Katara sniffled, "That was your special thing with him, Aang."

"I know," he whispered, "And that's exactly why I wanted to share it with you."

Katara brushed at the fresh tears falling on her cheeks. "Did you, at least, bring two forks?"

Aang produced two gleaming utensils from the sleeve of his robe. "Surely you know me better than that, Katara."

They curled up together on the sofa, forsaking convention entirely to eat the gooey treat straight from the baking pan. At first bite, Katara was moaning in delight. "Mmm…" she hummed, "…this is sooo delicious."

He chuckled at her near orgasmic expression as the licked the fork clean. "Bet you're regretting all those times you kicked me out of the kitchen now, aren't you?" he teased, "All those wasted years when you threatened me with a wooden spoon…"

"I was wrong," she admitted around another mouthful, "So very wrong…"

"Does that mean you're amending what you said earlier about me not knowing how to cook?" he pressed.

Katara nodded gamely. "I bow to your excellence," she replied.

"Apology accepted," he murmured.

Smiling wistfully, Aang realized, as he watched Katara wolf down the pie, that he took infinitely more satisfaction in the fact that he had pleased her than he did in having made a flawless dessert. Somehow procuring praise for himself didn't even enter into Aang's thoughts. He didn't even want to taste his handiwork. That wasn't the important part at all. What was important was that his wife was genuinely smiling and that her eyes were alive with merriment right then…and that was all Aang had wanted to accomplish for the evening.

Gradually though, Katara became aware of his quiet scrutiny and froze mid-bite, her cheeks suffusing with self-conscious color. She swallowed her mouthful before chancing a sheepish glance in his direction. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to hog it. It's just so good."

"You're fine. Have a ball." Katara licked a bit of fruit filling from the corner of her mouth and that one, unconscious gesture distracted Aang in about a thousand different ways. Perhaps making Katara smile wasn't the only thing he'd hoped to accomplish that evening, he amended mentally. Finishing what they'd started earlier in Tenzin's room wouldn't disappoint him in the least.

Oblivious to the carnal direction his thoughts had taken, Katara asked, "Aren't you going to have any?"

Aang shook his head, setting aside his fork. "No. I think I'd rather sit here and watch you enjoy it."

Katara shoved the pan away in resolute refusal. "Aang, I can't eat a whole pie by myself," she protested, "It's too selfish. You worked hard on this dessert. You should enjoy it too."

"What do you mean it's selfish?" he argued softly, "Katara, it's just dessert and I made it for you. I'm not going to judge you because you want to have something for yourself. After all the years you've spent putting other people's needs above your own, you deserve to have a little something that's only for Katara…even if it's only something as trivial as a fruit pie. So eat it and enjoy it."

"Well, maybe I'll take a couple more bites," she acquiesced. However, well into bite number three Katara could no longer ignore the way Aang watched her. His expression was a mixture of amusement and an odd sort of intensity. A secret smile tugged faintly at the corners of his mouth. Katara felt strangely exposed beneath his stare. She set down her fork. "So are you really going to sit there and stare at me the whole time?" she wondered sardonically, "You're making me nervous."

"I can't help myself. You're too beautiful not to stare, Katara."

She uttered his name in an embarrassed mumble, burying her face in the collar of his robe. "You know I hate it when you say things like that."

He regarded her with a coy expression. "Remind me again why?"

Katara rolled her eyes at his blatant fishing attempt. "You're insufferable."

"Come on…tell me," he cajoled.

"Because it makes me love you even more," she conceded in grumbling compliance.

He tipped a smiling glance down at her. "Hmm…by now you must love me to an outrageous degree, huh?"

She grunted out a laugh at his teasing but when Katara lifted her head to regard him with those luminous blue eyes of hers, her heart was plainly visible in their depths. "Beyond outrageous," she whispered, placing her hand against his bearded cheek, "Sometimes I love you so much, Aang that everything inside me hurts."

Aang's good humor was replaced with tender solemnity. "That doesn't sound too pleasant."

"It is and it isn't," she admitted, leaning in closer so that her lips were a mere fraction from his, "But you know what? It's real. What I feel for you is the realest thing I've ever known, Aang."

"For me too, Katara."

That first kiss, soft and slow, soon led to yet more kisses, those considerably deeper. Aang and Katara nuzzled each other sweetly, the fruit pie forgotten altogether as they turned into each other's arms and scooted closer, kissing all the while. In between sampling her mouth and throat with his lips, Aang loosened Katara's hair, deftly unpinning the neat bundle of coiled waves so that they flowed freely over her shoulders and back.

They rolled and shifted, their hands gliding lightly over one another in practiced familiarity, bodies aligning as their caresses became more intimate. Bits of clothing fell away…his robe, her tunic, his shirt, her bindings…shoes were kicked aside and tossed forgotten to the floor. They eagerly peeled away layer after layer, until they were at last skin to skin, tasting and touching one another in the most intimate places.

Aang knelt between Katara's parted thighs, skimming the slope of her bare breast with his fingertips, watching with unconcealed fascination as her nipple contracted into a sensitized bead beneath his touch. He smiled at her. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" he whispered in a reverential tone.

She stretched out her hand to caress his hip, sliding lower to sweep the straining tip of his erection before pushing herself upright to press a tiny row of breathy kisses along his breastbone. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

He groaned her name and tunneled his fingers through her hair, twisting them there as Katara nipped a moist path up his throat. Aang darted his tongue along the rim of her ear, blew delicate kisses against her earlobe, his hands racing urgently over the bare skin of her back and buttocks. His erection throbbed between them, warm and pulsing as he rotated his hips against her. Katara smoothed her hands down the lean slope of his back, urging him closer, wanting more. She whispered his name.

Detecting the slight smile in her tone, Aang swept a light kiss across her eyelid and raised his head to regard her with a faint smile of his own. "Hmm?"

"Do you remember what you told me earlier about your libido?" she teased softly.

He had to bite back a laugh. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I believe it's calling again…" She reached between their bodies to curl her slender fingers around his stiffened flesh, stroking him in a bold caress. Aang moaned in delight, rolling his hips in response to her touch and incurring Katara's self-satisfied smile. "Don't you think it's time we answered it?"

Aang angled her back into the cushions and shifted between her legs with a rumbling laugh. "Never let it be said that you're not full of good ideas."

A little while later Aang collapsed atop of Katara with a low, ragged groan, grinding against her as he rode out the last stirring currents of their mutual orgasm. Somehow during their frantic need to join themselves together they had displaced several cushions and had become hopelessly twisted in his robes. Their skin was warm and damp in the aftermath of their vigorous lovemaking, their extremities heavy, their breaths coming in exhausted pants. Still tingling with sensation, Katara let her jellied limbs fall from around Aang's waist, allowing him to ease from her body and collapse beside her with a gratified grunt. Replete and fatigued and smiling with lazy satisfaction, Katara immediately snuggled against him, resting her cheek against his chest.

"Hmm…" she purred into his skin, "That was nice. I like answering your libido."

"Yeah, me too…" Aang whispered in wry agreement, already starting to feel the first stirrings of drowsiness.

Katara, on the other hand, was inexplicably wide awake. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed with the need to touch Aang everywhere…his shoulder, his chest, the thin, meandering trail of dark hair that led a pathway towards coarser curls and his softened genitals. Everything about him was still fascinating and beautiful to her. Even at fifty-three years old, Aang was still lean and fit, a product of the daily sparring practice in which they still engaged. Katara traced idle circles around the indentation of his belly button while she listened to the steady thumping of his heart.

"Hey, Aang? Are you asleep?"

"Yes," came his drowsy mumble.

Smiling and undeterred by the answer, Katara whispered, "I was just thinking…"

Without ever opening his eyes, Aang grumbled, "…that you're thoroughly exhausted and you could use a nap? How coincidental. Me too."

She pressed a laughing kiss to his nipple. "No. Not exactly."

He tipped a lethargic glance down at her, eyes half mast. "Well, if you're thinking about going another round, I don't know if I have it in me, Katara," he murmured gruffly, "I'm worn out. Give me an hour or two to recover."

Her answering giggle was muffled against his side. "Actually, I wasn't thinking that either," she clarified a moment later, "But I'll keep your recovery time in mind."

Aang was silent for so long after that Katara thought that he might have fallen asleep, but he surprised her when he asked, "So then…what were you thinking about?"

"I was just lying here thinking…wishing really…that we'd had more babies." Sensing that she had more to say than that, Aang remained still and silent in the wake of that quiet statement. He could feel Katara go curiously still beside him as well before she asked in an almost timid tone, "Do you ever think about it…you know…the baby we lost?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think about it."

"I thought after all these years that it would hurt less," she whispered, "But sometimes I still ask myself 'what if.' I still wonder if it was something I did or didn't do…"

"It wasn't your fault, Katara," Aang told her, "It just happened."

"I should have let you go find a healer like you wanted to that night," she said, "I should have done a lot of things differently. And if I could go back…"

Aang shifted onto his side then so that they were lying face to face. "There's no point in reliving this, Katara. You suffered a tragedy and you got through it the only way you knew how," he whispered, "I don't blame you. I've never blamed you."

"I blame me."

"Why?"

"Maybe if I had seen a healer that night…maybe if I hadn't pushed myself…" She bit her lip, making a conscious effort to reel in her emotions before continuing. Finally, after regaining her composure, she confessed softly, "I regret that I wasn't able to give you more children."

"You shouldn't." She stared at him in speechless surprise. "Katara, we have three beautiful children. Six, if you count Kamik, Hikari and Lin because they're practically ours anyway. That's an incredible gift. I don't take it lightly. And if three children were all you could give me, then it was enough."

"But don't you ever wish—,"

"—No, I don't," he whispered before she could even complete the question, "All I've ever wished for was you and I have you, so I'm good."

"You always say that," she said.

"And it's always true," he replied.

Although her eyes were still clouded with some swirling doubt, because she wanted to believe him, Katara nodded in acceptance and snuggled back against him. "You know what we should do, Aang?" she asked him just as his breathing was beginning to become slow and even with the respite of slumber.

"Go to sleep?" he ventured hopefully.

She laughed. "We should take a trip around the world. We can retrace the route that we took when we were kids only this time we can take our time and really explore all the different towns and provinces. Wouldn't that be great?"

Momentarily forgetting that he was hopelessly tired, Aang asked, "Are you serious?"

"Why not?" she considered, "The kids are gone. It's just us. We don't have any outstanding issues requiring us to be here at this time. We should go."

"You know, the last time we had one of these little adventures you got kidnapped by a river spirit," Aang recalled.

"Don't remind me," Katara muttered dryly, "Besides, that was years ago. I'm sure this time will go much smoother."

Aang mulled over the suggestion for a bit. "Actually that's not a bad idea. We could go to the South Pole and spend a few weeks with Kya and the kids and after that we could spend some time at the Southern Air Temple and see how the school is coming along. We might even run into Tenzin while we're there."

"And then we could go to the Fire Nation and spend some time with Bumi's family," Katara added excitedly, "We could drop in on Zuko and Mai while we're there, maybe have a double date or something."

The ironic implications of their plans hit Aang about a second later. "So basically we're going on vacation because our kids aren't here, but we're going to use the vacation to see those exact same kids?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I only wanted to be clear." Aang yawned broadly then. "So can I go to sleep now or do you have any more pertinent business you'd like to discuss before I close my eyes?"

"Oh, go to sleep already," she groused good-naturedly.

Aang settled himself against her body with a contented sigh. "Goodnight, Katara."

"Goodnight, Aang."

He was asleep and dreaming almost the instant he closed his eyes. Yet the events taking place in his subconscious felt so real to Aang that he didn't completely realize he was dreaming at all. He walked along the vast expanse of the South Pole all alone. There was nothing for miles but snow and ice. But although he was dressed in little more than his regular traveling clothes, Aang felt impervious to the cold. He felt strangely youthful and vibrant, filled with boundless energy and without the vague aches and pains that he had grown accustomed to over the last few years. Not too far from where he stood, a flock of penguins squawked and gathered, silently beckoning him over for a ride. However, he had taken only one step towards them when the sound of her weeping stopped him in his tracks.

Aang knew it was Katara even before he turned around and discovered her kneeling in the snow, sobbing like he had never seen her sob. But she wasn't the Katara he remembered or expected. Though Aang would recognize her even if he were blind, there was no denying that she was different. She was clearly older, her dark hair having faded to a complete gray now. She appeared broken and defeated.

Understandably, Aang was shocked by her appearance, but ultimately it was the sound of her harsh sobbing which shook him from his stupor and sent him skidding to her side. He tried to comfort her, tried to reassure her, but she seemed unable to hear him or see him. And, Aang realized with dawning horror, he was unable to touch her. It was as if there were an invisible wall between them and no matter how loud he screamed or how much energy he expended trying to get Katara to see him, Aang could not penetrate it.

Frustrated and dismayed, Aang became increasingly more frantic with his inability to connect with her, but even as he was in the midst of shouting her name, the scenery around him began to shift suddenly and Katara began to fade away. Flashes of light burst all around him in a dizzying blur as the faces of his family and friends blended in and out of an inky black canvas. Their countenances were dark with grief and sorrow. Aang could hear them calling for him. Begging for him. He could hear their sobs echoing in his ears, but he couldn't comfort them, couldn't reach them.

He clamped his hands over his ears, screaming for it all to stop. And miraculously it did. As if carried by thought alone, Aang instantly found himself transported into a small one room hut. The house was adorned simply with only a small fire flickering in the hearth. In the far corner of the house, the unmistakable sounds of a woman in the throes of impending childbirth bounced off the walls. His presence invisible, Aang drifted closer to witness the scene. He didn't recognize the laboring woman at all and yet something there felt infinitely familiar. It was only when the woman finally pushed her infant daughter into the world that Aang understood why. He knew the child's identity in an instant and what her birth signified…the grim reality that the Avatar…that he was dead.

Aang bolted upright with a startled gasp, unintentionally jostling Katara awake in his frightened alarm. In that first disoriented instant, he still felt as if he were trapped in his dream so he half expected Katara to disappear at first. But then she spoke, scrambling upright beside him to rest her hand against his thundering heart.

"What is it, Aang?" she whispered anxiously, "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I don't know…I don't know…" he mumbled, still struggling to process whether what he had just experienced had been an awful dream…or a premonition of things to come.

Katara felt the palsied shivering in his muscles beneath her hand and frowned in dismay. "Aang, you're trembling. Tell me what's wrong. What happened?"

He looked at her then and, seeing the gathering dread in her gaze, forced a wooden smile. "Nothing," he lied. "I suppose I was having a dream and I just woke up in a panic. I'm sorry I scared you."

"Do you remember what it was about?"

Aang dropped his eyes as he shook his head in answer to that. "No. I don't. It was probably some silly dream about falling out of the sky. That's an airbender's worst nightmare, you know."

His lame attempt at humor fell flat with her. "Are you sure about that?" Katara asked, skepticism stamped all over her face, "You seem pretty shaken up right now. Your face is pale."

"I'm sure," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, "I'm fine now, Katara. Really. Go back to sleep."

Yet, as she settled back down against his chest and waited for his galloping heart rate to return to normal, Katara did not fall back asleep at all.

And neither did Aang.

~End~