Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or its characters.
98
"Well, take a good look around," Aang said as he gestured around the dingy locker room of his gym. "This is the last time we'll be here."
Sokka squinted at him in confusion. "I thought you said that your last day was next Thursday?"
"No, I said this Thursday. Today."
Sokka whistled. "Wow... that came up fast." He scuffed his shoe on the floor. "Too fast."
"Yea," Aang replied, chewing the inside of his lip at the pang he felt from the emotion in Sokka's voice. "But, you know, we can still do Ba Gua. We can video chat and stuff. You won't even have to go to the gym. Suki has mats and stuff: you can do it in the living room."
Shaking his head, Sokka let out a self-deprecating laugh. "And subject myself to Suki's ridicule when I can't execute kicks that she's been doing since she was five? I don't think so."
"Suki wouldn't make fun of you," Aang protested. "If anything, she'd probably help you. And she'd probably be a great teacher, too; she has excellent form."
"Don't talk about my girlfriend's 'form'," Sokka teased absently.
Aang rolled his eyes, stripping off his shirt to change into a clean one from his bag. He eyed the showers, hidden by mildewed plastic shower curtains.
"You're not thinking of showering in there, are you?" Sokka asked, openly disgusted. "You can shower at home."
"Spirits, no," Aang laughed. "I'm just... remembering not so long ago, when- if I wanted to shower- it had to be here." He leaned against the wall, mired in thought. "A lot has changed. A lot is changing."
Sokka looked away uncomfortably. "Yea," he muttered.
"Its because of you, you know," Aang said, tilting his head toward his friend.
"Got you a job in the Fire Nation, did I?" Sokka asked dryly.
Aang shook his head. "I'd still be living in my car. My life would still be a mess. You could have freaked out when you found out I was homeless, but you didn't; you took me in, gave me a place to stay. I got my feet under me because of you. I have a girlfriend I'm head over heels about because of you."
"I don't really think I had much to do with that, actually," Sokka interrupted. "Katara would have dated you even if you were still in prison, I think."
Aang blushed, a little smile on his lips, and he rubbed the back of his head in pleased embarrassment. "Maybe. But even so, I feel like... like I owe you, I guess."
"You owe me nothing," Sokka said, clapping a hand on Aang's shoulder. "I did it because you were my friend. You would have done the same thing for me, if our roles were reversed." His hand fell away, and his eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm really happy for you, Aang. Truly. It's been... really cool seeing you come so far in such a short amount of time. I'm looking forward to seeing where you are this time next year."
"I appreciate that," Aang said. He gave Sokka a penetrating look, but his voice was gentle when he asked, "Why don't you feel the same for Katara, though?"
Sokka's head jerked upward, his eyes wide in surprise. "I- what are you-"
"You're avoiding her," Aang told him. "It's been really hard for her."
"You guided the conversation here on purpose, you manipulative little-"
Aang shrugged. "I like to think the conversation was headed this way, no matter what. We both love her. We both care about her, and we care about what makes her happy. I know you'd never intentionally hurt her. I'm just telling you... whatever's going on, whatever reason is making you avoid her, its hurting her."
"Well," Sokka said, frowning, "that's the last thing I want. I guess... I don't know. I'm struggling with the thought of her leaving."
"You've been apart before," Aang reminded him. "When she was still with your dad, and you moved to Ba Sing Se to go to school."
Sokka sat down on a nearby bench. "It's not the same... she was still there, still around. She's leaving now, to live her own life. I am happy for her, I just... I'm going to miss her. It'll be hard."
Aang sat down beside him. "Then you should tell her."
He nodded sadly. "I will."
The dinner had been nice, if a little clichéd. A candlelit dinner, a bottle of wine shared between them, an awkward beginning followed by shy smiles in the glow of the candle's small flame.
"Now what?" Mai asked.
Zuko's hand furtively wound into hers as they made their way from the restaurant. He shrugged.
"You didn't have a plan for after dinner?"
"I'm still in shock that we made it all the way to dinner," Zuko quipped.
She glared at him.
He laughed aloud, a strange sound. The same warm, gravelly timbre of his voice, and it sent a tingle down her spine. "I looked into a bunch of different things for us to do. A movie-"
"Blech," she pretended to gag.
"A gothic poetry club-"
She gave him a look. "Are you making fun of me?"
He shook his head. "No, I honestly considered it."
"I'm guessing you never actually figured out an activity for us to do after dinner. Maybe we could just go back to your place and-"
"No. I just went with a classic." He jerked his head to the building on their left, pulling her to a stop.
Mai's jaw dropped in incredulity. "You cannot be serious."
His returning look was solemn. "Deadly. Let's go."
And, turning, Zuko gently guided his still-shocked girlfriend into 'Shu's Mini-Golf Course'.
It wasn't so very long ago that Katara was sitting in this room and it had looked exactly as it did now; boxes everywhere, haphazard items hastily wrapped in paper, clothing in a disorganized pile on the floor. If she closed her eyes, she could picture Suki walking in with the last box, or Song pouring them glasses of wine, 'to hydrate'. Suki was still in denial about her feelings for Sokka, and Katara hadn't even met Aang yet.
Eight months could change everything.
A little knock at her door distracted her, and she leaned over the box to see Aang, half-obscured behind the door frame. "Am I interrupting?" he asked.
"Not at all," she said with a smile. "How's your room coming along?"
"Packed already," he said with a shrug.
She faltered. "What- how?"
"I've never really been a 'stuff' guy," he explained. "It'll probably take us, like, three trips to load my room up in the truck."
Katara eyed her room, her cheeks tinged pink. She'd never really considered herself a 'stuff' girl, but it was definitely going to take more than three trips to pack up her room.
He kissed her cheek reassuringly. "It's just because I didn't have a house for a while. Living in your car tends to thin out the collection- not a lot of storage space, no matter what the car salesman says."
"Well," she said officiously, "since you finished your room so quickly, that means you have time to help me with mine."
"Of course."
The room was filled with the sound of wrapping paper, and tape, and the involuntary noises Katara made when she was torn between packing a t-shirt in the moving boxes, or cramming it into her already overflowing duffel bag. They were making decent headway when Aang interrupted her intensive thought process.
"Katara?"
"Hmm?" she replied absently.
"How do I look?"
She looked over at him. A massive pair of cat-eyed sunglasses graced his features, and one of her bras was screaming in protest as it stretched over his broad chest and shoulders. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck, and he had struck a model pose, pout-lipped and all. Between fits of giggles, she said, "You look ridiculous."
He frowned. "I think I look great."
"Take that bra off before you ruin it," she told him, still chortling.
But when he reached around to his back, he was drawn up short by the bra straps cutting into his shoulder. Katara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as he strained, every muscle visible, to reach the clasp behind his back.
"How'd you even get it on?" she asked, crawling over to him before reaching around to free him from the bra's iron grip.
"I have no idea," he chuckled. When the straps slid down his arms, he rolled his shoulders appreciatively. "Spirits, how do you wear that all day?"
"Uncomfortably," she admitted as she folded up the bra and tossed it into a nearby box. "You know," she said slowly, mischievously, "usually its you taking the bra off me."
He waggled his brows at her. "Enjoying the role reversal?"
"Can't complain."
"Should I do another one of your moves?"
She grinned. "I'd love to see what you think one of my 'moves' is."
Without breaking eye contact, he pulled his shirt off slowly, revealing the smooth flowing skin and the broad planes of muscles on his chest and stomach. He twirled the shirt around his head twice before tossing it into a corner.
"I have never done that in my life," Katara protested, but her indignation was marred by her laughter.
He grinned, unabashed. "Maybe I need a reminder."
"Maybe you do."
Aang reached out with one long arm to shut the door to her room. "Well, then, let's see what you've got."
Suki leaned against the front door as soon as it snapped shut. She adored Song, truly, but assisting with planning the woman's wedding was an endeavor that took more energy than Suki was willing to give, at times. When she straightened, she saw that Sokka was watching her, leaning casually against a nearby wall as he took a sip of water.
"Rough day?"
She shook her head. "It wasn't bad, it was just... exhausting."
"I thought you were going to get pedicures with Song and then go see a florist," he recounted. "That sounds pretty easy."
"Song wants peonies and sweet peas and a few other spring flowers in her bouquets for her and her bridesmaids," Suki said, as if that explained it all.
Sokka gave her a confused look. "So?"
"So," Suki said with exaggerated patience, "her wedding is in August."
He blinked. "... And?"
"And August is at the end of summer," Suki snapped, finally exasperated. "None of those flowers will be in bloom by then."
"Oh."
Suki gestured toward him to emphasize his understanding. "And she's being absolutely obtuse with this poor florist, who's trying to explain, like, yea, they can ship those flowers from the northern Earth Kingdom, but it'll cost twice as much and will go way beyond Suki's budget. There are plenty of other summertime flowers that are just as beautiful."
"Isn't her wedding in a botanical garden?" Sokka asked blithely. "Why does she need flowers at all?"
"For her bouquet."
"The bouquet is just going to die," Sokka said. "She could save money and skip the flowers completely. Why spend money on flowers when we're going to be in the middle of a massive garden?"
Suki laughed in disbelief. "Well, one, because she wants bouquets, and two... because it's just what's done. The bride has a bouquet. It's a thing."
"If you say so," Sokka answered wryly. "I guess I wouldn't know."
Suki faltered, unsure of what to say, and Sokka caught the anxiousness in her silence.
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to imply anything, I swear."
She walked slowly from the door, setting her bag down on the table in the foyer, her hand lingering on the table for a moment. Bracing herself. She gave herself a moment to catch her breath, then turned to Sokka and took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand softly, before looking up at him with a smile. "It's okay, Sokka. We can talk about it."
He eyed her warily. "I only meant that I haven't been to many weddings, and I don't know much about them."
"Oh," she said. "Well, yea, the bouquet is kind of an important piece of it. Just adds to the image. And then some brides like to toss the bouquet."
"What, they literally throw it away?" he questioned in disbelief. "All you're doing is further proving the point that they're unnecessary."
She shook her head with a nervous little laugh. "No, they gather all the single women at the wedding and toss it to them. Whoever catches it- according to tradition, or superstition, really- will be the next to get married."
"What if it's you?" he asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes rounded, and he shot her a look of concern. "Just wondering," he said quickly.
Suki snorted, but hid a little pang of shame at his reaction. "They'll make the priest conduct our wedding on the spot," she said dryly.
"Good thing I look so good in the suit Haru picked for his groomsmen," he answered cautiously, eyeing her as if to gauge her reaction.
But she only winked, a conscious effort to assuage the fears that she played such a large part in forming. "Wait til you see me in the dress that Song picked out. It's no wedding dress, but..."
"Well, if you're not in a wedding dress, then I don't want any part of it," Sokka joked, catching on to her teasing tone.
"Another time, then, perhaps," she said softly.
His eyes widened. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before heading to her room to change into something more comfortable, her heart pounding in her chest.
A/N: gosh we are so close. I'm pretty excited to put this to bed, tbh. I can focus my creative energy to the accord. It's been challenging, splitting my attention between the two.
Aanglovergirl yea Mai's being a bit of a butthead haha but I always got the impression that she was incredibly kind and loving and protective of the people she cared about and very much NOT that toward the people she didn't.
Samtheguy- yes I actually have been forcing myself mentally to not call it the Honda Accord when I talk about it at home lol.