Disclaimer: Okay, after all this time, do you think that I'm going to turn around and tell you that I actually own somethin? Actually, I do. I own Moonshade. Which is available on FictionPress. But I own nothing else. And that has nearly no relevence to this story. So, as far as you are concerned, my dear readers, I do indeed own nothing.

AN: I loved that last episode... This chapter is longer than usual...Enjoy!

Chapter 12

Sokka glared down at his sister and her boyfriend while they slept, locked in a less than innocent snuggle. He pulled out his club to 'gently' wake up Zuko as he stepped over the remains of the previous night's fire.

A strange formation of charcoal caught his eye, then his breath.

It had been shaped into a kanji character, pointing at the two sleepers.

It was the character for 'death'.

Forgetting his earlier plan, Sokka tapped Zuko. The Prince's eyes opened slowly, and he sent a questioning glance in Sokka's direction.

"What is it?" he asked groggily. Sokka pointed at the character.

"Did you make that?" he asked.

"Hm?" Zuko's eyes slowly focused on the pile of coal before they widened. He jerked back, leaning protectively over Katara as though to shield her from the mark and all that it implied. Katara, still nestled comfortably against him, began to stir, disturbed by the sudden movement.

"...Zuko?" she murmured, still half asleep. His glance shifted quickly between her and the character on the ground. Just as her eyes fluttered open, he kicked at the pile of charcoal, scattering it across the earthy terrain. She was completely oblivious to this. She only saw the intense expression on his face as it hovered over hers.

"Zuko? What's wro—oh." She had finally caught sight of her brother, looking exceptionally displeased. She sat up and meekly scooted away from Zuko, a blush beginning to spread across her cheeks.

"Oh yeah," Sokka said, suddenly remembering his first qualm of the morning. "Don't do that again. You two have rules to follow, remember?"

"Sorry," she mumbled, straightening her collar.

"'Bout what?" Aang yawned from a few yards away. He glanced at Zuko, Sokka and Katara, and his face fell. "Hey Katara, are we going to have to break up another fight?"

"Good question," Katara said, turning her gaze to Sokka. "Are we?" Her brother groaned.

"Whatever," he sighed, standing up and kicking idly at the scattered coals. "Do you think that tailor's finished with your clothes yet?" She stared blankly at him for a moment.

"...I guess so," she said slowly. "Why?" Over her shoulder, Zuko and Sokka exchanged glances. One thing, at least, they could agree on.

"Because you can't run around wearing a blanket for another day," Sokka explained simply.

"He's got a point," Zuko admitted, rolling up Katara's discarded sleeping bag.

"We should probably head into town, then," Sokka added, burying the remains of the fire pit.

"And we might as well stop for supplies while we're there," Zuko agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

"Do you think those girls are still around?"

"Most likely. I hope they keep their distance, though."

"But how can they give us more food if they're 'keeping their distance?'"

"You can deal with that, then. I'll pick up the clothes."

"Sounds fair," Sokka shrugged. Between the two of them, the entire campsite was nearly cleared. Aang and Katara could only stare.

Were Zuko and Sokka actually being civil towards one another?

And were they honestly cleaning?

"Are they sick?" Aang whispered to Katara as the other boys finished clearing the site. Katara couldn't keep the mild alarm from her face.

"Either that, or we're dreaming."

"It's a bit weird to be a dream," Aang pointed out.

"Yeah..." Without further warning, Katara stepped up to Zuko, gently pressing her hand against his forehead. He looked down at her quizzically.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. She withdrew her hand, completely puzzled. Zuko didn't feel warm...or at least, not warmer than usual. And he didn't look sick.

"Nothing," she mumbled, retreating again while he watched, a look of mixed amusement and concern dancing on his handsome face.

"Are they ready?" Zuko asked the tailor, keeping his tone carefully neutral. The old man nodded absently.

"Just a few alterations, and they'll be finished. Would you kindly step behind the screen...?" He held a welcoming hand towards a silk screen, across which the new clothes hung. Zuko wanted to strike himself, though he restrained the urge. How could he have overlooked such an obvious hindrance? Of course he would have to leave Katara alone for who knew how long. Though the amount of time really didn't matter. Even a few careless moments would be enough for Sen.

What do you intend to do when she dies?

"Behind the screen," he repeated cautiously. The man looked puzzled.

"...Yes. Behind the screen."

"Fine." Zuko made no argument as he marched to the paper barrier. If he was at least within earshot of Katara, then he would at least have time to react if Sen showed up. The tailor turned absently to Katara.

"Now, miss, if you'll step into the front room-"

"No," Zuko said too sharply. Katara and the tailor looked up at him in confusion. "I want you to see if it looks all right." The excuse was pathetic at best, but the tailor didn't argue. Katara only raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Zuko silently cursed himself for sounding so foolish.

What am I supposed to say? There's a madwoman on the loose and she seems to have a grudge against you. Me? No, she's had more than her chance to get rid of me. Your brother, too. And it wouldn't take any effort to just kill us all and grab the Avatar. No, Katara. She wants you, and she wants you dead. Even unspoken, the words filled him with guilt. He could only imagine her reaction: confusion, fear, worry. Sleepless nights haunted by nightmares, fright at any unforewarned movement...

Admittedly, Katara was not the kind of girl who would so easily succumb to fear. And even if she was, she was far too stubborn to show it. But Zuko couldn't help but worry for her.

Because while fear was bitter and cold, it was a warning. Fear protected one from danger.

'I'm not afraid,' a younger boy said, looking across the war chamber at the old general. 'What you're trying to do is wrong. And If it'll take an Agni Kai to prove that, then so be it.' He didn't expect to see his father at the duel. He didn't expect to lose everything so quickly. Because he had no reason to expect it.

After all, he wasn't afraid.

Just as had been expected, the flock of girls had returned, giggling wildly, batting their eyelashes, and bearing gifts. Sokka and Aang couldn't help enjoying themselves, though they didn't get swept away in the excitement as they had done before.

Yet they still didn't see Sen before they heard her voice.

"Charming, aren't they?" she muttered into Sokka's ear, a serpentine smile on her face. It took all of his willpower not to jerk away from her. She wore loose, ordinary clothing that easily disguised her thin form, though Sokka and Aang could now feel the bone in her arms as they wrapped affectionately around their shoulders.

"Your goons, I suppose?" he asked, keeping his voice as low as hers. She laughed pleasantly.

"Not at all. Just easily manipulated little girls. It's amazing, really. All you have to do is spread a few rumors, throw around a bit of praise, some flattering adjectives...and suddenly the three newcomers are the great, handsome warriors, come to save them from the wicked monotony of the world. You don't even have to do that much. People will always exaggerate when they find themselves desperate for something to believe in."

"You have no right to do this."

"Yet I don't see you refusing that food," Sen pointed out.

"You planned this," Aang breathed, keeping his own face as neutral as possible. She shrugged.

"Obviously."

"Why?" The question was rewarded with a seductive wink from the woman.

"If I told you, that would just ruin the surprise." She ruffled Aang's hat playfully. "I have my own reasons. You'll just have to deal with that."

"That's just low," Sokka muttered, trying to keep his face neutral. "How dare you try to fight us in the middle of this crowd..."

"Fight you?" Sen chuckled, nuzzling his shoulder. "If I wanted to fight you right away, I wouldn't waste my time feeding you. No...I have other plans for you."

"Quit messing with us," he said.

"And stop playing with my little toys? No. I don't think I will. You should be grateful, Sokka. I've been tailing you for months already. But it seems you didn't even begin to notice until I showed myself to you. It's rather cute, really."

"Come on, miss Sen, give us a turn!" one of the older girls cried, tugging jealously at the bounty hunter's baggy sleeve. Sen offered the girl an acquiescing sigh, and muttered one last message to her two targets.

"You are alive only by my choice. Consider that a blessing...perhaps you will see me again soon." She chuckled and retreated, relinquishing them to the mercy of the near rabid girls.

"My, my, don't you look lovely. I must say, it suits you far better than your last outfit." Katara froze as she heard Sen's voice behind her. A solid week had passed since they had last seen her, but surely enough, the bounty hunter stood behind her, carelessly leaned against a nearby tree. Zuko said nothing, but lunged in front of Katara, putting himself between her and the killer, while Sokka and Aang gripped their weapons, ready to fight. Sen looked amused.

"How cute. A vain gesture, though. You're only putting another neck to my blade. It really won't make any difference." Zuko only glared at her, forming the beginnings of a fireball in his hand. "Or do you intend to fight me? Now that will be a sight! You won't win, though." She smirked coolly at him, radiating absolute confidence with every word, and effectively ignoring Sokka and Aang as she did so. "I have twice your motivation and three times your experience. A few bending tricks won't save you." She cocked her head to the side in surprise, as though she hadn't heard her own threat. "Oh? What's wrong, dear Zuko? Can't you speak? Has our last tryst left you mute?" Katara felt her stomach lurch at the phrase. The bounty hunter was just acting like that to get at Zuko. She was just toying with him. But Katara couldn't push another image out of her mind, of Sen draped over Zuko, leaning dangerously close to him...

"Silence, you filthy-" Zuko started.

"Ah ah," Sen silenced him with a snakelike blow across his face. "Watch your tongue. There are small children about."

"What do you want?" Katara snapped at the bounty hunter, trying to distract her from Zuko. Sen rolled her eyes.

"That should have become painfully obvious by now," she sighed. "I want to see your head on a pike. But until that becomes practical, I'm doing a few random errands." She paused thoughtfully, before throwing a pebble at Zuko. A snide smirk crossed her face. "Your sister sends her warmest regards, by the way." Zuko glared at her.

"Tell her she can jump off a cliff," he said, clearly trying to keep his voice above a snarl. All eyes turned to him.

"You have a sister?" Aang asked. Katara wondered the same, momentarily forgetting the bounty hunter. Zuko had never mentioned any siblings...But then, he didn't talk about his past very much.

"We aren't close," he muttered, never shifting his icy stare from Sen. She chuckled.

"Really? That's not the impression I got. In fact, she offered to triple my salary if I brought you back alive."

"Nice sister," Sokka noted. Zuko shot him a glance, then returned his glare to the bounty hunter.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. She shrugged playfully.

"Oh, she's very fond of you, you know. She wants to hear you scream as you are put to death. She wants to be a witness to your suffering." Her grin broadened, though an undertone of disgust was now visible in the smile. Her voice was light, as though she was reciting a nursery rhyme. "She wanted my opinion about that, actually. Whether she should let you die alone, with only her company...or whether she should extend the honor of witnessing your demise to the entire Nation...of course, if she goes with that option, she'll be killing you herself. And, I assure you, she has been preparing for the occasion-"

"Stop it!" Katara cried. She was shaking now and her face had paled. Sen cocked her head to the side, looking amused.

"Stop what? I'm only telling the truth, my dear. Don't you like hearing it? That's reality, in all its glory. That is the future that awaits you."

"Shut up!" the younger girl snapped, storming forward, all caution forgotten. Zuko started after her, trying to hold her back, but she yanked her hand from his grip, absolutely focused on her opponent. "Stop talking like that! You're nothing but a stinking murderer! You have no right to-"

"No right to what?" the woman asked, fingering an elegant dagger. "Can you hear a word you're saying? Look at you! Are you so holy that you may pass judgment?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I earn my bread through the blood of criminals and traitors. And your precious Zuko is nothing more than one more meal ticket. If I stop hunting those you call friends, then I will die. So does that make my life worth less than theirs? Does that entitle me to death? Please, do enlighten me, oh great Katara." Mockery and spite dripped from her words like poisoned wine.

"That doesn't change it," Katara hissed stubbornly. "That doesn't make it right." Once more the woman laughed and she grabbed her by the collar.

"Katara!" Sokka, Zuko and Aang charged forward at once. Sen ignored them.

"Of course not," Sen mused. "But I'm sure it isn't nearly as bad when your dear lover is the one doing the killing."

"Don't you dare-" Sen's knife pressed suddenly against her throat, drawing blood.

"Do not criticize me again, Katara," she said icily. "Unless you wish to part with that pretty little head..." She pushed her into Zuko and Aang and disappeared into the shadows.

"Katara, that was really stupid," Sokka said, speaking over Aang's shoulder as the Avatar used Water Healing to clean the cut on her neck. Meanwhile Zuko rummaged through their supplies, searching for the bandages.

"That wasn't my fault!" she defended. "It's not like I asked her to-"

"Yeah, you kind of did," Aang pointed out.

"That woman is insane, Katara," Zuko said, unwinding one of the gauze wrappings. "It's lucky she didn't kill you."

"Come on, charging at a psycho bounty hunter?" Sokka continued. "What did you think she would do? Squeal and run away?"

"No..." Katara said. Aang backed away, allowing Zuko to gently apply the bandage. "She had no right to say those things," she said lamely.

"Which is exactly why she said them," Zuko said.

"She wanted us to attack," Aang added.

"And you just had to go for the bait. Come on, Katara, it was obvious!"

"It was not," she protested.

"Was too," the Avatar said.

"I promised Dad I'd take care of you," her brother reminded her. "And that's kind of hard if you keep doing dumb things like trying to attack trained assassins."

"I-" Zuko put a finger to her lips, silencing her.

"We care about you, Katara," he said gently. "All of us. We don't want to see you get hurt."

"Got that?" Sokka asked. She looked slowly between her brother, her best friend, and her secret fiancée, a gentle smile rising to her lips. She nodded finally.

"Yes. I understand."

A thin figure silently entered Admiral Zhao's tent. He didn't look up from his work, only adjusting his papers as the slightest wind disturbed them. The guest sat on the floor, waiting patiently for him to finish. Nearly an hour passed before he put the documents away, finally turning his attention to the newcomer.

"What news?" he asked, not bothering with any further greeting. The figure lowered its silk mask, revealing Sen's face.

"They are heading south by southeast. They've gathered most of their supplies, and won't have to make further detours for some time. If you want to find out where they're going, now is the time to do so."

"If I want to find out?" Zhao repeated quietly. The bounty hunter nodded.

"Their course is taking them over water. I'm no sea captain; I recommend you find one to track them for now. In the meantime, I have other business to attend to. Concerning which..." she lifted a large bag from her lap and passed it to Zhao with a slight bob of her head. He opened it, his face quickly taking on a childish expression of delight as he removed three disembodied heads from the sack.

"And where did you find these?" he mused, now studying the trophies with a jeweler's scrutiny, though the look of exhilaration never left his features.

"Those two were hunting the Avatar. The third hoped to protect him."

"From you?"

"From his new companion. It seems that the Exiled Prince has made few allies since you saw him last." Zhao grimaced at her words, his good hand subconsciously brushing across his jaw. Half of his face, as well as his other arm, had been horribly disfigured during his last fight with the Banished Prince Zuko. He wore it as a mark of glory: his men nearly sung of his courage and determination in battling the Rogue, of his great skill and grace in the face of such blatant treachery. But no amount of praise or glory could mend his ruined flesh, or take back the agony that he had suffered as Zuko's attacks had fallen.

"And you didn't kill him?" he snapped. Sen looked up at him for a moment, her hands resting on the ground before her. It was an odd habit of hers; it made her look strangely like a dog, waiting for its master's approval.

"I didn't think it wise," she said at last. "I assumed that you would prefer to finish him yourself, and it would be nearly impossible to take him away from the Avatar alive." She paused thoughtfully. "And if I did, the Avatar would retaliate immediately. Such a confrontation..." Her glance traced his burned skin for the swiftest instant, "Would likely end in disaster. It would best be avoided until his allies can be found and destroyed. Until then, I will continue to keep him on the defensive." Zhao reclined back in his chair, more than pleased with her answer. He barked an order to one of the servants that waited outside before once again returning his attention to Sen.

"Defensive, my pet?" he asked. She flashed her familiar predator's smile.

"It is incredible how many mistakes one child can make when pressed to act," she said.