Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or its characters.

90

It was probably months- possibly years- since Aang had been hit as hard as he was the night before. And in that time, he'd forgotten just how sore one was the next morning.

"Ugh," he grunted, sitting up slowly. He grunted again when his ribs protested sharply.

Beside him, Katara opened one bleary eye. "You okay?" she murmured, her words slurred slightly.

He nodded. "So good," he said dryly.

She sat up, blankets falling away as she put a comforting hand on his arm.

Aang stared openly at the miles of smooth, dark skin bared to him.

She almost scoffed. "Aang, no way. Have you seen yourself? You'd be in so much pain."

"You could be on top-"

"No," she said firmly. "You need ice, and ibuprofen... and water, probably, if Suki is right about how much you drank last night."

He shrugged. "I didn't drink that much. She was on a different level."

"Ah, I see. So, I imagine she's not doing too well this morning, either."

"Suki can take care of herself," Aang defended.

"But not other people, apparently," Katara said, gesturing towards his bruises. "Seriously, Aang, what happened? She was only able to give me, like, the vaguest details."

Aang looked down at his hands, a flush coming over him. "There's not much to say, really. It was a coincidence that Jet was there, and then he started hassling me... he wanted to fight. He says I'm an a-hole."

"Were you?"

"No," he scowled at her. "I thought I was being very reasonable."

She laughed gently at his indignation before leaning over to press a kiss to the non-bruised side of his face. "I"m sure you were. I don't even know why I asked that."

"To make fun of me, probably."

"Probably," she agreed mildly. "Continue."

He shrugged. "The rest is predictable. We fought. I won. But the receptionist at the gym saw it on the CCTV, so she called the cops. And I went to jail." It was all Aang could do not to roll his eyes. He had told the officers- he'd told them- that Jet was the catalyst for the fight, but apparently it was standard procedure.

Katara was watching him thoughtfully, one finger pressed gently against her lips. "You spend a lot of time in jail for such a nice guy."

"It's because I'm a certified bad boy." He tried not to be too injured at her disbelieving laughter. "Anyway, while I was there, the cops reviewed the video footage, and... and, yea, the video corroborated my story, so I'm not getting any charges pressed against me. Jet is, though."

Katara shook her head, a myriad of emotions expressed in that one, small movement. Relief, disbelief, exasperation, sorrow, happiness. "Well, that should be the last we see of him."

"Let's hope." Aang reached out to take her hand in his. "And how was your night? Better than mine, I hope."

"It may have been," she said cautiously.

"What happened?"

Katara gave him a strange look. "I made a new friend. And... I got a job."

It was all Suki could not to jump out of her own skin when her bedroom door burst open. She yanked the covers over her head. "Katara," she groaned. "I know you said we'd talk in the morning, but please, can you wait until I'm conscious?"

"This will not wait." The voice wasn't Katara's, though. It was Song, and she sounded furious.

Suki blanched under her duvet. "What are you doing here?"

"My best friend- my Maid of Honor- does not drunkenly dial her boyfriend in the middle of the night because she's sad that she pushed him away," Song snarled. Her voice had taken on a very unflattering mocking tone at the word 'sad'.

"Ugh, Song," Suki said, rolling away from her. "This doesn't concern you."

The covers were ripped off her bed. "Your boyfriend is at my house, drinking my wine spritzers, moping because his girlfriend has the emotional IQ, of, like, a kumquat-"

"You don't even know what a kumquat is-"

"It's a citrus fruit, you absolute bitch," Song snapped. "And sit up. You're going to listen to me."

From the door, Suki could hear footsteps. "What in the world is going on?" Katara asked, hastily tying the belt of a silk robe. "Song? What are you doing here?"

Suki gestured towards Katara to emphasize the question.

Song turned to Katara, a charmingly winsome smile crossing her face. "Good morning, Katara," she greeted sweetly. Her eyelashes fluttered when Aang joined Katara in the doorway, still shirtless. "Oh, my, Aang, don't you look-" She frowned as she caught sight of the bruises. "Terrible, actually. You look terrible. What happened?"

Aang's hand went nervously to the back of his head. "Oh, I- uh, got in a little fight last night."

"Oh my gosh, with who?"

"Why is this discussion taking place in my bedroom doorway at eight in the morning?" Suki asked angrily. "You people have no respect."

Song rounded on her. "No, you have no respect. Calling Sokka like that; shame on you. He's a mess, Suki, a literal wreck."

Katara raised one eyebrow. "Wait, what? He was doing alright last time I talked to him- what's changed?"

"He's brooding," Song wailed. "And I can't take another moment of it. He's so stoic and serious all the time and it would be kind of sexy if it wasn't so Spirits-damned depressing."

Suki sat up gingerly. "That's why I called him last night, Song. Because, I can't take another minute of it, either. I'm trying to fix this."

"And this epiphany occurred to you at 1 AM?" Song asked dryly. "How lucky for you that when you get drunk, genius strikes. It's so clever, really, because the rest of us would have waited until the morning, but you really seized on Sokka's protective instincts."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Suki asked, frowning.

Song crossed her arms. "I asked him why he answered you at all-"

"Song," Suki began reproachfully.

"-and he said that it was because it's 'not Suki's thing to drunk-dial'. So, he was afraid you were hurt or in danger." Song's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're taking advantage of him in more ways than one, and I will not stand for it."

Katara frowned deeply. "I can't believe you did that, Suki," she said reprovingly. "Encroaching on his feelings like that."

Song's gestured toward Katara. "Exactly."

"No, I- that's not it," Suki said. "It wasn't, like, some embarrassed drunken phone call. I told him I wanted to talk in person, so we could fix this. That's all. I wasn't crazy, I promise."

Aang leaned against the door frame. "That's not so bad."

"You shut it," Song snapped. "Actually, can you leave the room? You're distracting me."

"You only want him to leave because he's defending me," Suki accused.

"That's right," Song agreed. "And also I can't focus when his abs are just, like, out there."

Katara stifled a grin, forcing her lips together as she turned back to Suki. "Why did you call my brother?"

"I already told you," Suki said, avoiding Katara's gaze. "To fix things."

"Are you ready for that?" Aang asked sagely. "If you haven't considered his perspective, and he hasn't considered yours, what will this do other than put you guys back where you started?"

"But I have been thinking of his perspective," Suki said. "There's got to be a middle ground. There just has to be."

Song glared at her. "Are you implying that you two are in this situation because you can't compromise?"

"Well, yea-"

"It's not because you can't compromise, Suki," Katara broke in softly. "It's because you never gave yourselves the chance to."

Suki rose from the bed angrily, her hands on her hips. "I was trying to protect us."

"And he went with it, because he was, too," Aang said. "But, you guys never got the chance to learn from this. You just agreed never to speak of it. Until Sokka couldn't take it anymore."

"I know," Suki snapped. "What do you guys want from me? I made a mistake, okay? And he did, too. Let us try to fix it. I didn't need this- this... intervention. I just needed time to realize my mistake."

Katara walked slowly over to it. "And have you?"

Suki nodded. "I think so."

"Well, you'd better not be wrong," Song said crisply. "Because, even Mr. Perfect can only put up with so much."

"That was fun," Aang said sarcastically, as Suki forcibly dragged Song through the door, still embroiled in argument. "What were you saying before?" he asked Katara, curiosity winning out over the last few minutes' drama.

Katara settled down next to him on the couch. "I said, I got a job offer."

"Oh? Where?"

She turned to him, her eyes assessing, analyzing. "Kuzon's gym."

Aang executed the perfect spin kick. It was flawless, from start to finish. So flawless, it simultaneously inspired you in it's simplicity, encouraged you to try it yourself, and impressed you with just how challenging it looked.

Sokka's kick was more like a fight from start to finish, a scrabble to move his body smoothly from one position to the next. "How do you do that?" he asked in frustration. "I almost tore my groin just now, but I swear your kick looks like you're just flying or something."

"Years of practice, Sokka," Aang said reassuringly. "I promise, my kicks used to be rough."

"Well, they're not, now."

Aang spread his hands helplessly. "I've had a lot of years to perfect them. Think about how smooth yours will be a few years from now."

"I'm trying not to look too far into the future," Sokka grumbled. "Live in the now, and all that."

"Normally I encourage that sort of thinking," Aang said, "but I feel like that particular thought process is less about finding balance and more about avoiding a problem."

"Its not," Sokka said defiantly. He planted his feet firmly, as if his stance would help with the false bravado, but it lasted for mere seconds before Sokka's shoulders slumped in defeat. "It definitely is."

Aang smiled kindly. "I understand. Things are... so weird, right now."

"You're not kidding."

"I heard about your meeting on Monday," Aang said. "Song came in to verbally berate Suki about the phone call, and she kind of spilled the beans."

Sokka laughed humorlessly. "She verbally berated me, too. I drank too many of her wine spritzers."

"Are you doing a lot of drinking, then?"

"No," Sokka replied quickly. Too quickly. "Okay, yes, but it's actually like a pretty even balance of depression and the fact that those wine spritzers are delicious."

Aang gave him a pointed look. "I feel like you're adult enough to know that drinking while you're depressed is a genuinely terrible idea, so I'm going to leave it at that. If you're feeling down, just call me. We can work out, or hang out, or whatever." He tilted his head. "Are the wine spritzers good, though? I tried ordering one at a bar, once, and the bartender literally laughed at me and gave me a whiskey. Whiskey is gross."

"Yea, there's kind of a stigma with men and wine spritzers-"

"What?"

Sokka frowned. "It's not manly. Whiskey is manly."

"Yea, but whiskey is gross," Aang complained. "That's so stupid, if I had known that's why the bartender gave me a whiskey instead, I would have given it back. I'm not going to drink something nasty for the sake of, like, unnecessary macho-ism." He crossed his arms in irritation. "Now I'm mad."

"I thought we were living in the moment?"

"Oh, yea." He shook himself a little bit, as if to snap out of it. "Anyway... your meeting on Monday. Are you nervous?"

Sokka scowled. "Of course I am. I want to live in my apartment again. Be with Suki. Live my life. Have a future I can count on."

"None of us has a future we can count on," Aang said.

Sokka stared at him. "Wow, that's depressing."

"I just mean- since we're talking about living in the moment- maybe you could focus on how happy she makes you now, instead of worrying about how happy you'll be in the future."

"Since when are you so... wise?" Sokka asked.

"Since I started dating your sister," Aang said loftily. "She's smarter than me, and it's rubbing off. Although, speaking of looking toward the future..."

Sokka stilled. "What?"

"Katara got offered a gym at the gym. Kuzon's gym." Aang looked a little lost. "She just told me about it this morning."

"So... you're moving?"

"I don't know, Sokka," Aang admitted. "We really didn't get the chance to discuss it. Suki was there."

There was a moment of intense turmoil, a battle within Sokka as he fought off the urge to shout 'don't leave!', even as he fought off the urge to smile for the way things had fallen into place for two people he loved. He clapped a hand on Aang's shoulder. "Whatever you decide, I'll be happy for you guys," he said sincerely.

"Thanks, Sokka." Aang dipped his head gratefully. "I appreciate that."

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