Zuko waited until he was sure that enough time had passed for Katara to go to bed before he went back to the apartment. He kept replaying that awful, embarrassing conversation over and over in his mind until he thought he would die from the mortification.

Had he really told her that she was pretty, and then run away like a cow-chickenshit? That was not how he expected the conversation to go. And now he was too embarrassed to go back and face her. He really was a cow-chickenshit, wasn't he?

Zuko crept into their apartment, avoiding all of the creaky floorboards as he went to his bedroll. He took off his boots and laid down before he tucked his hand behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Maybe he should just kiss her. He wanted to, really bad. What's the worst that could happen?

She could have changed her mind. You might actually have to think about what happens when she finds her friends. She might think you're a bad kisser.

With a frustrated huff, Zuko rolled onto his side, facing the windows. Who knew being a normal teenager could be so difficult and annoying? Was it really that hard to just kiss a girl that you liked?

Suddenly, he heard Katara's door open from behind him. Zuko held very still as embarrassment burned in his cheeks.

"Zuko?" Katara's voice was soft as it called across the room.

Zuko breathed shallowly, hoping that she would just go back to bed. He was too much of a coward to face her tonight.

After a moment, he heard her door close again. He shut his eyes and let out a silent breath of relief.

Katara woke up feeling groggy and like she hadn't gotten enough sleep. And that was probably because she had definitely not gotten enough sleep—she'd been up half the night worried about Zuko, wondering if he would come home, hoping he was okay.

She was trying to make sense of his ramble before he'd booked it out of their apartment. Katara had felt a little flustered even bringing it up—how mortifying it was to bring up an almost kiss with someone she wasn't even sure liked her that way—and his reaction hadn't made her feel any better.

Maybe the almost-kiss was a mistake. Maybe she'd read him wrong. Maybe he didn't want to kiss her, or be kissed by her. But he'd called her pretty, so that had to count for something, right?

With a groan, Katara peeled herself out of bed, still rubbing her eyes sleepily. She left her room. Iroh was making breakfast.

"Good morning, Master Katara," he greeted.

"Mm," she hummed drowsily as she made her way towards the washroom.

"Okay," he murmured. "I'll make some matcha tea."

Katara reached for the door at the same time it opened, a thin cloud of warm steam washing over her as Zuko suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Uncle, have you seen my—"

Zuko cut off as his gaze fell on Katara. His eyes widened and she let out a strangled noise.

Her brain registered the scene very quickly: Zuko, freshly out of the bath, his hair still glistening with water, his chest bare (she definitely didn't notice how defined the muscles of his chest and stomach were, and how he had bulked out a little more since they had arrived in Ba Sing Se), and that he had a towel wrapped around his lean waist. A towel that left very little to the imagination on what he had going on below the waist.

"Katara!" Zuko yelped as he jumped backwards, one hand automatically reaching to hide himself even though he was covered by the towel.

Her cheeks burned and she spun away. "Oh my spirits, Zuko! Put some clothes on!"

"I was just—you were—argh!"

The washroom door slammed shut, and she stalked back to her room. Katara threw the door closed behind her and leaned against it, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart and the fluttering in her stomach.

Oh. My. Spirits, she thought. Zuko is…hot!

She heard Iroh's chuckle out in the living room as he said under his breath, "Oh, young love."

Katara closed her eyes and groaned. How was she ever going to look Zuko in the eye after that?

Smellerbee walked up the alley until she stood beside Jet. He tore his eyes away from the tea shop, where he was watching Lee and Mushi work, and looked over at her, with Longshot standing behind her.

"Jet, we need to talk," she said.

"Where have you guys been?" Jet asked. "I could really use some help with surveillance here."

Smellerbee sighed, but she wouldn't quite look him in the eye. "We've been talking, and we think you're becoming obsessed with this. It's not healthy."

Jet narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between her and Longshot. "Really? You both think this?"

Longshot put his hand on her shoulder. Jet was stunned. How could they even think that? Lee and Mushi were firebenders. Katara was with them, not knowing the truth! So what if he hadn't seen them actually firebend since they were in the city? He knew what they were. How could Smellerbee and Longshot just be okay with that?

"We came here to make a fresh start, but you won't let this go," she said, nearly pleading with him. "Even if there's no real proof!"

"Well, maybe if you'd help me!" Jet retorted hotly.

Smellerbee shook her head. "Jet, you gotta stop this. I know you're hung up on Katara—"

"I'm not hung up on her!" Jet exclaimed irately. "But she deserves to know the truth about them!"

"Has it occurred to you that maybe she already knows?" Smellerbee retorted.

Jet shook his head. "No, she wouldn't do that. There's no way."

"Jet, you spent what, a few days with her? You don't know her," she said. "And it would be really stupid for you to throw this away—"

"Maybe you've forgotten why we need to start over," Jet hissed harshly. "Maybe you've forgotten about how the Fire Nation left us all homeless. How they wiped out all the people we loved! If you don't want to help me, I'll get the evidence on my own!"

Jet stormed towards the tea shop. He was done playing the waiting game. He'd make Lee and Mushi expose themselves.

Zuko's face was set in a semi-permanent scowl as he cleared dirty cups from tables at work that evening. It was as if the universe was conspiring against him, trying to make his life as difficult as it could possibly be.

Katara had seen him naked. Okay, maybe not naked, but close enough. And after everything that had happened last night? He was tempted to run away. Permanently.

And his uncle was decidedly not helping. He kept giving Zuko knowing looks and sly smiles.

Zuko was itching for a fight to release some of his pent-up tension. And to top it all off, working was awful. People were awful, especially when they were ordering him around (giving him orders, technically, for tea, but Zuko wasn't in the mood for technicalities). It might have only been his second day, but he was already over it.

Zuko carried a tray of used dishes towards the kitchen, overbearing a snippet of conversation between his uncle and a customer that made him want to gag.

"This is the best tea in the city!" a customer remarked.

"The secret ingredient is love," Iroh said, and Zuko rolled his eyes.

"I think you're due for a raise," Pao told Iroh.

Zuko shook his head as he set his tray down. Iroh was so happy here. Zuko hated it. Maybe you'd hate it a little less if you figured shit out with Katara, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, but he didn't have time to think about it as the door was suddenly thrown open, hard enough it rattled the shop.

Zuko turned around. His expression darkened when he saw Jet standing in the doorway. He'd been waiting for the Freedom Fighter to make an appearance.

"These guys are firebenders!" Jet shouted as he pointed an accusatory finger at Zuko and Iroh.

Then he unsheathed his hooked swords and came deeper into the shop. All of the customers were watching the scene unfold. Zuko glared at Jet. Who did he think he was?

"I know they're firebenders!" Jet shouted. He pointed his sword at Iroh. "I saw the old man beating his tea!"

"He works in a tea shop," a customer said.

Jet's gaze never wavered from Zuko's. "He's a firebender. I'm telling you!"

A pair of city guards who had been enjoying their tea turned towards Jet, although they didn't get to their feet. Zuko hoped that they didn't. He'd been looking for a fight, and Jet was sure to deliver.

"Drop your swords, boy," one of the guards warned him. "Nice and easy."

Jet ignored the guard as he stared Zuko down. He walked slowly towards him with an arrogant smirk.

One of the guards reached for his swords, but Zuko was faster. He pulled them out of the man's sheath and brandished them as he glared at Jet. The swords felt good in his hands. He hadn't touched his dao blades since they'd arrived in the city.

"You want a show?" he growled at Jet. "I'll give you a show!"

Zuko hooked his foot around a table leg and dragged it in front of him before he kicked it towards Jet. He hooked his swords on the edge of the table before he jumped over it, swinging his swords back towards Zuko.

Zuko leapt backwards onto another table. Jet came after him and brought his swords down hard, cleaving the table in two. Zuko balanced on one half of the table, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He jumped down and swung his swords at Jet's ankles, but he jumped back out of the way.

Zuko swung his swords around and down at Jet, but the Freedom Fighter was ready for him. He shoved Zuko back before he lunged forward again. This time, Zuko had to block Jet's attack as their swords clashed hard enough to throw sparks. Jet was taller than he was, and he tried to use his height to his advantage, pushing down on Zuko. But Zuko was stronger.

"Just admit it!" Jet gritted out from between clenched teeth.

Zuko glared at him. "No."

He pushed hard against Jet, sending him stumbling backwards. Zuko went after him and kicked him in the stomach. Jet crashed through the doorway and into the street with Zuko right behind him. Jet attacked again, his swords singing through the air. Zuko raised his blades, and their swords locked together.

Jet grinned viciously. "You must be getting tired of using those swords. Why don't you go ahead and firebend at me?"

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Zuko growled.

He pulled back as Iroh appeared in the doorway. The patrons, guards, and Pao were all crowded around him and in the windows, watching the fight. Zuko briefly thought about how this was certainly drawing unwanted attention, but he couldn't think about that right now.

All he was thinking about was Jet's stupid smug face, and the fact that he'd kissed Katara, he'd hurt Katara, and how he somehow thought he deserved her, her trust and forgiveness—

Did Zuko deserve it?

"Please, son, you're confused!" Iroh called out. "You don't know what you're doing!"

Zuko swung at Jet, but he snagged the hooks of his swords around Zuko's blades and deflected them to the side. Zuko pulled back and struck out again, but Jet was ready for him. Zuko was pushed back a few steps to avoid being sliced open.

"Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fireblast right now," Jet taunted.

He swung low at Zuko's ankles, but Zuko pinned one of his blade down at the hilt, trapping it against the ground. Jet met his gaze, his eyes sparking.

"You're the one who needs help!" Zuko snarled.

Jet ditched the trapped sword and swung his other blade at him. Zuko let go of his stuck blade and raised the other one to deflect it, feeling the force reverberate down his arm. Then he swung out, nearly cutting Jet across his throat.

But Jet leaned backwards, narrowly avoiding the blade. Zuko felt all of his fury pour out in his attack, and he narrowly missed the thin plume of blue flame that trailed from the end of his sword, cutting the piece of straw stuck in Jet's mouth in half.

Shit, Zuko thought as he pulled back. He needed to get himself under control.

Apparently, Katara made Zuko lose his control.

Jet regained his balance and retreated. His face had twisted into a ferocious snarl, and Zuko knew that he had seen the fire.

"You see that?" Jet shouted at the onlookers. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen!"

Jet lunged at Zuko again, but he was ready for it. He blocked Jet's attack and punched out with his free hand, catching Jet's mouth. He spat out blood before he swung towards Zuko's left side. Zuko ducked, but before he could attack again, he saw a pair of serious-looking men in dark uniforms, hands raised defensively.

"Drop your weapons!" one of them commanded.

Zuko dropped his sword, and a second later, Jet complied as well. He pointed at Zuko.

"Arrest them!" he yelled. "They're firebenders!"

Iroh held up his hands as he approached Zuko. "This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees."

Pao jabbed a finger at Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop and assaulted my employees!"

One of the guards, the one Zuko had taken the swords from, walked up and nodded in confirmation. "It's true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the whole city. This young man was just defending him." He nodded towards Zuko.

Iroh put his hand over his heart. "Oh, that's very sweet."

One of the men grabbed Jet by the arm. "Come with us, son."

Jet kept his eyes on Zuko as he was dragged away. Zuko watched him until they disappeared around a corner.

"Are you alright, nephew?" Iroh asked him quietly.

"I'm fine," Zuko muttered. He looked over at his uncle. "Should we tell Katara?"

Iroh pursed his lips. "I think you should talk to her about other things before you mention Jet, although I don't think he's going to be a problem anymore."

Zuko sighed. Why was his uncle always right?

Katara looked up when the apartment door opened and Zuko and Iroh came in, looking tired after their shift. She met Zuko's gaze and felt heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered that morning (in a perfect, crystal clear recollection), but she quickly pushed that thought away as she stood up.

"I got a job!" she announced.

Iroh's face lit up. "You did? How wonderful! What is it you will be doing?"

"Hopefully not serving tea," Zuko muttered as he walked past her towards the kitchen.

"I'm actually going to be a seamstress's assistant," Katara informed them. "I start tomorrow."

"Congratulations, Master Katara," Iroh told her warmly. Then he yawned hugely. "But I am tired! I'm off to bed. You kids have fun."

With that, Iroh shuffled into his room and closed the door. Katara took a breath before she turned towards Zuko. He was leaning against the counter holding a cup of water, a brooding expression on his face.

"Congratulations, on the job," he muttered, not quite able to look at her.

"Thanks," Katara murmured. She tugged on a loose thread on her sleeve. "Um, look, can we talk about everything?"

Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. "Do we have to?"

"I'd like to," Katara said quietly. "I feel like things have been really, really weird between us ever since we got here, and it's not getting any better because we just keep avoiding talking about the camelephant in the room."

"Which is?"

Katara sighed. Was he really that dense? Or was he still trying to avoid it? Well, they were talking about this. Katara couldn't stand it any more.

"We almost kissed," she said bluntly, her heart thumping nervously in her chest. "And when I tried to talk to you about it, you literally ran away—"

"I did not."

"You did," Katara insisted. She wrung her hands together. "So like, what is going on between us? Do you like me? Do you want to kiss me?"

His eyes were trained out the window, his hand white-knuckled against his cup. "Katara—"

"Just tell me, yes or no," Katara said. "Because I can't lie and say that I didn't want to kiss you because I did, and now I feel like I've ruined everything because—"

His voice was so quiet that she almost didn't hear him. "Yes."

Katara blinked. "Yes?"

Zuko finally looked up at her. His eyes were smoldering. "Yes."

A grin split her face and she stepped towards him. But Zuko tensed up, looking as if he was going to run away again. She stopped.

"But I can't," he said, his voice husky and strained. "I can't, Katara, because I don't deserve you. I'm not good enough for you."

Her heart pulled painfully in her chest. "Zuko—"

"No." He shook his head. "I mean it. You deserve so much more than what I can give you, okay? You shouldn't be here with me and my uncle in this shithole apartment. You should be with your brother and the Avatar. Getting involved with me would just get in the way of that."

"Zuko, I'm already involved with you," Katara said insistently. "I'm here, aren't I? And I told you, you have a choice—"

"I know!" Zuko snapped, his voice rising. "But I can't choose, okay? Because I ruin everything I touch, and I just can't do that to you. So it's better if I just…don't."

Tears burned her eyes as she stared at him. He was staring down at his boots.

"Zuko," she said softly.

"I need to go to bed," he said roughly. "I have work in the morning."

Katara wanted to stay. She wanted to tell him that they could figure everything out together, that they could take this one step at a time. She wanted to tell him that she thought that if he didn't kiss her, she felt like she might burst. But she could sense that he couldn't be pushed any further tonight.

So with her heart aching in her chest, Katara retreated to her bedroom. As soon as she shut the door, she burst into tears.

How did things end up like this?