Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or it's characters.

31

The beep of Sokka's watch brought Suki back to reality, it's proximity to her ear making the ordinarily soft noise unpleasantly shrill. His hand was burrowed deeply in her hair, tugging her gently closer as his lips moved over hers. She pulled away, to look at the little figures on his watch face.

"Oh, shit," she said. "I have to go- I have to go to work." She pulled away quickly, almost laughing at the wounded expression on his face.

"You're a cruel woman," Sokka accused, nodding downward to where evidence of his desire for her still stood at attention. "You knew what you were doing."

She winked at him before leaning over him to kiss him passionately, the kind of kiss that would normally end with her pressed deeply into her mattress, gasping his name. "Something to remember me by."

"As if I could forget."

"Well, you did forget to pick up my latte after class yesterday, so..." she shrugged, dodging a thrown couch pillow.

"And this is your retribution?" he laughed. "I was right- you are a cruel woman."

"I'm your cruel woman."

He smiled. "Mine."

Suki could still feel his soft breath on her collarbone, his lips tracing her jawline as she trudged drearily into 'Chit Sang's Grocer's', snagging a battered blue vest that marked her as a member of their legion of shelf-stockers.

"No, no," came the officious voice of her manager on duty. "You're working the cash registers tonight."

"I beg you," Suki pleaded. "Anything but customer service."

"Customer service is all that we do," he replied in a sing-song voice.

It was only thoughts of Sokka, the way he burned with her, the way his body on hers was like two candles joining, rising and writhing and glowing, that got her through the shift. A smile was plastered on her face as she mouthed the formulaic responses that only those who have worked customer service jobs could understand, but her mind was three miles away, tucked cozily away in apartment 3E, with him. With the blue of his eyes, with his toothy grin, the knowing look he would give her, one brow cocked high, before dark strands of his hair brushed across her abdomen and her eyes would shut tight with pleasure.

Or, the way he'd trace one finger slowly across her cheek when he thought she was sleeping, or draw her to him in the middle of the night, arms wound around her tightly.

'When he falls, he falls hard,' Katara had said, months before. And he had clearly fallen.

The thought warmed her, buoyed her. Terrified her.

Aang tossed himself bodily onto the couch before the front door could so much as snap shut. A long day did not begin to cover it, and he had a headache that was slowly but steadily pounding along the base of his skull. He had been scheduled to work a four-hour shift- at least, that was what his calendar had said. But he had been overbooked, somehow. Five training sessions in one eight hour shift, and hardly any time for breaks.

As a result, his headache was compounded by an insistent hunger, urgent enough to make him sit up and look around for anything both accessible and edible. But, as he sat up, he found Sokka regarding him flatly from his unorthodox seat on the coffee table.

"Sokka," Aang said in surprise. "I didn't hear you sit down."

"I hear you're sleeping with my sister," Sokka said by way of answer.

"I-uh..." Aang sputtered, sitting up a little straighter. "We- I wasn't expecting Katara to tell you so soon."

"Yes... but she didn't have to," Sokka grumbled. "I heard you two last night."

Aang felt the blood rush to his face. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly.

Sokka waved a dismissive hand before drawing in a deep breath. "This is my obligatory big brother speech."

"It's not necessary-"

"Shh," Sokka hissed. "Obviously, you'd destroy me in a fight, so this isn't that kind of conversation."

Aang blinked. "Well, I hope I wouldn't destroy you, since I've just spent the last few months training you. I feel like you'd do alright."

"Now's not the time to kiss ass, Aang."

"When would be a better time?" he joked, rubbing the back of his head.

Sokka ignored him. "I have no objection to you dating my sister. In fact, I'm sure you'll be very happy. I'm just a little worried about how fast it is."

Aang's heart sank. He had the same fears, though he trusted Katara's reassurances from earlier that morning. "I understand."

"She's a good one, Aang," Sokka muttered, low, as if he were speaking only to himself. "But she's not perfect, and neither are you. Be patient with her." He smiled suddenly. "And, watch out for that temper."

Aang smiled back. "I will."

Katara paced back and forth in Aang's empty bedroom. She had heard the front door open and close. Knowing Sokka to be holed up in his bedroom and Suki to be at work, Katara had concluded that it must be Aang, newly returned from a longer-than-expected shift at the gym.

Her patience had frayed to wisps after her conversation with Sokka. He hadn't quite responded as enthusiastically as she had hoped. But, in the rationale of her mind (which she was attempting to keep at arm's length), she could admit that there was a certain pragmatism in his response. He was wrong, entirely; it wasn't too soon. Not for her, not with Aang. Breaking up with Jet had been like... like taking off an ill-fitting bra, she decided, one finger tapping against her lips. The gratification had been instantaneous. She'd left him behind, and she hadn't looked back.

She looked forward instead, and there was only Aang. Her only regret was that he was about to pay an unknown price for her mistakes.

Her heart thumped in her chest at the warm smile he gave her as he entered his room. "I'm guessing you're here to tell me that Sokka knows about us?" he asked.

She nodded, arms wrapped protectively around her chest. "He took it well enough. I guess," she added derisively.

An amused half-laugh escaped Aang, and he sat down at the edge of his bed. "He cornered me before I came in here."

"Did he?"

"It wasn't bad," Aang assured her, leaning back on one elbow. "He's just a little concerned- about the same stuff that I asked you about this morning." He gave her a level look, the gray of his eyes piercing her. "He's just worried about timing, that it's so soon after your last relationship-"

"Would everyone quit worrying about my last relationship?" Katara burst out, feeling immediate shame at the way he blinked in surprise at her sharp tone. "Let me worry about how I feel about Jet. Which is nothing but exasperation," she added hastily.

Aang stood from the bed, wrapping one large hand under her elbow and pulling her gently toward him. She let out a shaky breath when her cheek met his muscular chest, and she couldn't help but nestle closer to him. He smelled of sandalwood, of a soft, indescribable breeze-like scent, light and appealing. "Sokka and I only want to be sure that you're... that you're comfortable, I guess," he said softly from above her.

Katara looked up at him. "I'm very comfortable."

"There's no rush on my account, Katara," Aang said softly. "You don't have to push yourself. I'm not going anywhere." His hands tightened against her momentarily at his last statement.

"I'm not pushing myself," she answered firmly. "I'm not doing anything I don't want to do."

Above her, Aang smiled. "Then, there's no problem."

"There's one problem," Katara said, sighing.

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