Asami tied the final knot and stepped back from the plane to admire her handiwork. Two cables now hung from the wing, tied together at the center to make a wide V. Suspended from the knot like some strange fruit was her tightly-rolled sleeping bag. She gave a little hum of approval, then started taking off her boots.
Iroh looked up from his book by the fire. He raised an eyebrow. "What's that?" he asked. Asami saw that her tiny portable light was tucked into the crook of his arm again—he claimed it was easier to read by than firelight and kept borrowing it.
"Well, you do a lot in the mornings, and you know I'm not great then." Asami felt herself flush. She was well and truly the world's worst morning person, and was still guilty about the way that Iroh constantly had to wake her up. "And at any rate, you can exercise by yourself. But back home, I mostly take classes. Kickboxing, things like that."
Iroh said nothing, so she continued. "I got tired of being so lazy, so I rigged this up. It's a punching bag."
"There's not enough weight," Iroh said immediately.
"What?"
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't mean to criticize. It's a great idea. But your sleeping bag, it's not heavy enough. There's no resistance." He looked at her and smiled a little. "I've done this a lot."
Asami saw immediately that he was right. She'd had enough sense to stabilize the bag with the twin cables, but hadn't factored in the weight at all. Her bag weighed less than 5lbs. It would be like punching air. Drat.
"Any ideas?" she asked. There were plenty of ways to make the bag heavier by adding rocks or some of her metal tools, but then it would be too hard to hit safely. She didn't look forward to flying a plane all day with a broken finger.
"I'll hold it," said Iroh. He marked his place, clicked off the light, then stood and walked over until he was directly behind the bag. He gripped it with both hands and braced it against his chest. "Like this."
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Asami said. She felt bad for interrupting his reading, especially as he didn't seem to be able to do it while flying. Iroh had never said anything, but she suspected he might get a little airsick. "I know you're tired. I'm sure I can find something to weight it down with."
"Tired?" Iroh said. "I sit in the back of your plane all day. It's good to stand up a little. If anything, I'd have thought that you'd be the one who was tired."
"My eyes, maybe," she admitted. "But it's a lot of sitting for me as well."
"Then come on," he said. "I'm already up. Unless," he gave her the faintest smirk, "you're intimidated?"
Asami wheeled and kicked him in the chest. Her bare foot landed squarely in the middle of the bag. Iroh let out a small "oof" and she felt a momentary twinge of guilt, but when she looked up, he was grinning.
"It's all right," he said, taking a deep breath and resetting his legs. "I can take your cheap shots, Miss Sato. What else have you got?"
Asami spun and kicked at the rolled-up sleeping bag. But instead of connecting with the plush fabric, this time she hit something harder. She looked up in surprise to see that Iroh had caught her bare foot in one hand. He was smiling.
"I can take your cheap shots, Miss Sato," he said, and stepped forward. As he did so, he ran his hand slowly up under her leg. His palm was incredibly warm. Iroh took slow steps, maintaining her balance, all the time sliding his hand higher and higher. Asami met his eyes in the flickering firelight and saw something there that she hadn't seen before. Or had she?
He was right in front of her now, balancing her on one leg, his hand hot beneath her thigh. She felt him slip his other arm around her back. "What else have you got?" he whispered, and kissed her.
Asami's eyes snapped open. It was the middle of the night. The fire had burned all the way down, and it was cold. She could barely see Iroh on the other side of the ring of stones, a silent lump inside his own sleeping bag. Her whole body tingled, and for the briefest second she wondered what it would be like to get up and go crawl in there with him. She blinked her eyes, suddenly mortified. What was that all about? She had no indication that she and Iroh were any more than friends, and recent friends at that. Though he'd never mentioned anyone, Asami also seriously doubted that a smart, good-looking general and Prince of the Fire Nation was exactly hurting for company. Besides, she was seeing someone herself—kind of—right? Asami shivered, burrowed down deeper into her bag, and set about forgetting her dream.