Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews! Your continued support is the only thing keeping me posting. I particularly enjoyed necro-wulf's review saying my older!Sokka "came off somewhere between Rambo, McGyver, and John Mclain". I just watched the A-Team and I was giggling about how my Sokka is a mix of the four of them. He's got Face's good looks and cockiness, Hannibal's planning skills, Murdock's insanity and luck, and B.A.'s badassitude. And just like every good action movie, I know things are "over the top". Sorry for those of you who don't enjoy that kind of thing, but trust me when I say that Sokka will pay the price for his heroics. ;)

The Dragon and the Wolf

Chapter Five: The Grey Wolf

"You awake, finally?"

Azula shifted and had to stifle a groan as her entire body protested. The smell of cooking meat drifted to her nose and she realized she was famished.

"Could have used you hours ago to start the fire," he grumbled. "Just like a firebender, never around when you want them to be."

She opened her eyes and stared up at a canopy of trees. Last she remembered, they'd washed up on a beach in the evening. Judging by the angle of the sun, it was morning. Funny what a little water in the lungs could take out of a person, but the sleep had done her good. She felt warm and dry and alive.

"Before you get angry, please realize I only did it for your own good."

Did what, she wondered, and then realized that there was nothing covering her royal dignity but a blanket of palm leaves. He'd stripped her wet clothes off while she slept and she saw them hanging from a branch in a nearby tree.

Whatever gratitude she might have had for his efforts went up in smoke with her palm leaves as she leapt to her feet, surrounded in blue flame. His jaw dropped and for a moment they were frozen in time, him - shirtless and staring, her - naked and enraged, and then everything clicked into motion as she launched a lethal blast of fire at his face.

He'd been rubbing some kind of salve on the bottom of one of his burned feet, and all he could manage was a girly yelp as he flattened himself back on the ground. The flames passed by harmlessly above him.

"I'm sorry!" He yelled and clamped one hand over his eyes and waved the other in the air in surrender. "I swear I didn't see anything!"

It was a lie and a weak one at that. She considered the pros and cons of ending his life right there in the dirt. While she considered, she stalked over to the tree and grabbed her clothes, throwing them on with a great deal less decorum than usual.

"You were freezing, I had to do something!" He hadn't moved but when she didn't respond or try to kill him again, he cracked his fingers to figure out what she was doing. "So, no more firebending?"

"For the moment," she said and sat down on a log by the fire. "What kind of animal is that?" She pointed to the spitted meat drizzling juices into the flames.

"Possum chicken." He still didn't sit up, though the cracks between his fingers continued to widen.

"And how are we supposed to eat it without utensils?"

"Um." He swallowed and lowered his hand from his face. "You're joking, right?"

"I doubt you could appreciate my humor."

He pulled himself to an upright position without his hands, and she wondered if he was intentionally trying to show her the rippling muscles of his exposed abdomen. She'd seen better. She even had better, truth be told, and Azula was nothing if not truthful about her own superiority.

"We'll just, y'know, eat it." He reached over and pulled at the meat, but it was apparently hotter than he'd expected because he hissed and pulled his fingers back, sticking them in his mouth like a six year old.

"Impressive."

He gave her a dirty look and held out his hand so she could see the burns and cuts she'd inflicted on him. The sight wasn't too appealing right before breakfast. "I'm sorry, I just forgot a certain someone maimed me."

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to try her hand at the sizzling meat. "Don't be dramatic."

"Oh, I forgot my pain isn't good enough for you." He held his damaged appendage to his chest as though she'd personally offended it. "Guess how great salt water feels on open wounds? Not great at all!"

Her sharp fingernails made short work of the crispy layer of skin and she tore away a nice white chunk of the possum chicken.

"Not to mention I had to drag your dead weight through swirling currents all the way to the island." He mimed swimming through imaginary currents.

She placed the meat in her mouth, careful not to let it drip down her shirt.

"And then I had to carry you inland," he said, pretending to hold someone in his arms, "build a fire all by myself," he complained, pointing at his chest repeatedly to emphasize exactly who had done the fire building, "and catch breakfast." He slammed his fist in his hand and then winced. "I didn't even get to sleep last night!" He threw his hands up in the air.

She chewed and swallowed, reveling in the simple yet delicious flavor. She licked her fingers and gave him a level stare. "Are you quite finished?"

He huffed and folded his arms. "And if I'm not?"

She shrugged and attacked the meat again. "I'm just curious how your friends put up with you while traveling. Seems like a lot of annoyance for so little tactical advantage."

His mouth dropped open but nothing came out. Then he clamped it shut, took a deep breath, and exhaled a laugh that cleared away his childish demeanor. "Actually, I don't really know how they put up with me sometimes. But things change. People grow up."

"Some better than others it seems," she mused and placed another piece of possum chicken in her mouth. His expression darkened and he fell into a brooding silence that seemed out of character for what she knew of him. "Aren't you going to eat?"

He gave her a look and then lifted his foot, busying himself with applying the salve to his painful looking burns and blisters. "Eat your fill, I'll have what's left." He bit into a plant and squeezed more of the liquid into his hand.

Azula watched him work while she ate, analyzing his movements and behavior for any sign of what was going on behind his cooling exterior. Something she'd said had bothered him or reminded him of something else he didn't want to think about. If it had anything to do with her or his current situation, she couldn't say for certain, but she had a few suspicions.

"You had a falling out."

He looked up and there was just the slightest hint of surprise before he covered it. "What?"

"With one of them, or all of them. Your friends."

He scoffed. "Dunno where you got that idea."

"A man leaves behind everything he cares about to come on a suicide mission. There's usually some sort of impetus for that kind of behavior."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" He was trying to hide his anger. She had him, though she wasn't sure she liked the answers. He wasn't there to help her, he was there to regain his honor or win back his friends. Whatever his actual excuse, she was just a means to an end.

"Alive for now. Though there's no telling how much longer you'll last as my prisoner."

He spread his hand, taking in their surroundings. "If you hadn't noticed, we're alone on an uninhabited island. And since you seem to need constant reminding, I just saved your life! I could have let you drown or killed you while you slept, but I didn't. And you still consider me your prisoner?"

She tensed but before she could strike, his black blade was between them, business end pointing at her chest. "Is this how it's going to be?" He asked, body and face a series of such hard lines that she wondered if all humor had left him for good.

"How else would it be?" she replied and lashed out with her foot, kicking the sword from his hand. It didn't take much to knock him back off his log and place her foot on his throat. He barely put up a fight and she wasn't surprised. Whatever near-mystical reserves of strength he'd been tapping into to resist the torture and injuries, the crash and the long swim, and the lack of food or sleep had finally run dry.

He choked and gurgled and met her gaze with blue eyes daring her to finish him. Here he was, one of the most famous heroes in the world, under her heel, begging for destruction. It was too much and much too late. The laugh built low in her throat before bursting forth, uncontrolled and unabashed.

She stumbled back and plopped down on his seat, letting the laughter roll until tears trickled down her face. He laid there on his back with his own tears trailing into his hair and that only made her laugh harder.

"It's pointless, isn't it?" she gasped between laughter. "We can't get what we want from each other. Neither of us!" She covered her face with her hand. "You probably don't even know where the Avatar is or what his plans are!" It was the funniest thing she'd heard in a long time. "You, his best friend, practically his brother, clueless!"

Li and Lo laughed with her and Azula entertained the possibility that her outburst was just another byproduct of her instability. It felt strangely good to laugh though.

A deep chuckle added to the mix. "We're pretty pathetic, aren't we?" he asked, and she swallowed her laughter as though it had never happened.

"Speak for yourself."

He raised his head to give her a look of profound confusion.

"You may get discouraged easily, but I have more than one way to achieve my goals."

He let his head thump back to the dirt and then a second time for good measure. Then he pushed himself up on his elbows and managed to look smug, despite the tear streaks. "Then it's a good thing you have absolutely no idea what I'm actually up to."

And just like that they were back to square one. They exchanged scowls and then he slumped onto the ground.

"What, you're just going to lie there?"

He rolled over on his side and was snoring within minutes.

She let him sleep while she considered her predicament. There was a very real possibility that she would be stuck on the island with him for an indeterminable amount of time. As much as she didn't care to admit it, he had his uses. While Azula had spent plenty of time hunting both her brother and the Avatar, she'd always done so with the might and authority of the Fire Nation behind her. Even now, she traveled in style and never had to worry about where her next meal came from. It wasn't her job to concern herself with the mundane aspects of life. She had a nation to conquer and rebuild.

She picked at the possum chicken he'd caught and shot his sleeping form another glare. He'd rolled over with his back toward her and she could see the ugly little lightning burn at the base of his spine. A starburst pattern radiated accusingly from two fingerprints burned into his flesh - Her fingerprints.

It had been more of a shock than a full blown lightning blast, and it was his own fault, really. She'd only done what she had to, to take him down. It was hard to believe that a non-bender could prove to be so effective against the numbers she'd thrown at him. But then, he'd trained with the best, and fought beside and against the most powerful warriors and benders the world had seen in a hundred years.

If she needed another excuse not to underestimate him, all she had to do was look at what he'd accomplished in two days aboard her flagship. He had more tricks up his sleeves than Mai had knives.

Azula flinched and pushed the thought away. It had been years since she'd thought about her so-called friends and now they seemed to be coming up more and more in her thoughts. She knew who to blame. Somehow he was getting inside her head and she hated it. Back in her prime no one could have breached her mental defenses.

She stabbed angrily at the half eaten possum chicken. Her hunger still wasn't sated and there was no reason to let the meat go to waste while the Water Tribe savage slept and snored and drooled into the dirt. Hadn't he told her to eat her fill? She left a few scraps that would have been more trouble than they were worth and imagined him gnawing on the bones like a dog. It made her feel a little better.

Azula shot him another dirty look and then settled back to meditate. She needed to decide what to do next, but planning could wait until she cleared her mind. Li and Lo were silent in her head and she thanked her own superiority for it. Eventually she'd be back to normal. Even mental scars had to heal in time. Her anger dissipated, fading back to the dark corner where she kept it.

When she opened her eyes, it was well past midday and she was thirsty.

She stood up and walked over to her snoring prisoner and nudged him with the toe of her boot. He grunted and opened his eyes, groggy and disoriented. "Huh the what?"

"I'm thirsty."

He rubbed his face and looked up at her, grimacing. "There's a stream over there." He gestured toward the woods. His movements were sluggish and the pain of his injuries seemed to hang over him like a cloud. If left to himself he'd probably stay right where he was until he was too sore and weak to move and Azula wasn't going to deal with that.

"So go to the stream and get me water. It's really very simple."

"Simple." He snorted and rolled onto his back. "Sure hold on, oh wait, wait, no." He pretended he was going to sit up and then flopped down uselessly. "I'm sorry, I'm all out of care. How about you worry about your own self for a while?"

"Now you're just being difficult." She folded her arms. "I'm thirsty, so you must be thirsty as well." He licked his cracked lips. "So how about since you know where the stream is, you show me, and we both get to drink?"

"That almost sounds like a compromise." He eyed her suspiciously.

She waved away the thought. "Call it what you want. I just want a drink."

He pushed himself to a sitting position, wincing and grunting, and didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to his burned feet. Her torturer had claimed that he'd done an impressive job on him, but now that Azula had a good look at his injures, she wasn't so sure.

"Your feet are probably very calloused from all the traveling, aren't they?"

He smirked, seeming to read her thoughts. "Naturally."

"You started screaming as soon as I left the torture chamber. That was all an act."

He shrugged. "Could have been. Your lieutenant didn't think so."

"We both know he was an idiot."

He snickered. "You're really better off without them."

"So get up, let's go."

He coughed and looked away, embarrassed. "It might not have all been an act." His hands drifted to his left foot and Azula could see the scorch marks where Sen's handprint was burned into his flesh and the angry red blisters around it. She rolled her eyes and hooked her hand under his left arm and hauled him up before he could object. He gasped and wavered and most likely would have crashed back to the dirt if she hadn't latched one arm around his waist and put the other on his bare, sweaty chest.

For a moment they were both stunned by her actions, but then Azula reminded herself that she was only using him for her own needs so it didn't really matter what small acts of kindness she showed. And really, dragging an injured man to his feet could hardly be considered nice. She had her own reputation to live up to, after all.

He lifted his arm and lowered it toward her looking unsure and more than a little terrified. "Can I…?" He gulped and Azula was left to figure out his intent on her own.

"Only if you absolutely have to."

He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned into her, taking the weight off his left foot and letting out a long sigh. "Phew." He pointed off into the bushes. "Can we get my sword?"

She helped him shuffle over to it and even leaned down to pick it up for him. Logically, she might have thought twice about arming her prisoner, but in his current state he couldn't even be considered a minor threat. She handed it to him and he took it gratefully, sliding it into his belt. "You really hate being separate from it, don't you?"

"I lost it once," he said. "I'm not going to lose it again."

Technically, they were both hers now, but she didn't feel like arguing the details. "Now where's this stream?"

He guided her to it, limping and shuffling and wincing and groaning the entire way. It was a relief when they made it to the water's edge and she was able to separate herself from his clammy skin and distinct odor. He drank like a man who'd been lost in a desert and then splashed water on his face and chest, washing away grime and blood and sweat and who knew what else. At the very least, he wouldn't smell as bad, but then again it was Azula's fault that he hadn't been allowed to bathe.

When he was finished he plopped down on a rock and let his feet dangle in the cool water. "Ah, that's better." He let out one long happy sigh as Azula drank her fill and then found her own rock to sit on.

The sun glistened on the water as the two sat in silence, left to their own private musings. It was a peaceful place. Some might even call the scenery beautiful. It bored her.

While she pretended to contemplate the view, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed different after the drink and quick bath - content almost. He sunned himself on the stone like an overgrown lizard monkey, his eyes drooping lazily, and she wondered if he planned on staying there for the rest of the day.

She sniffed. "Eventually, I will require more food."

At mention of food, his stomach rumbled and he gripped it to try and stop the embarrassing gurgles. "Good for you," he grumbled, slipping back to his usual self. "You're human like the rest of us."

"We both need to eat. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

He turned toward her and the light reflecting from the water made the bruises down one side of his freshly cleaned face stand out in contrast to his tanned complexion. Dark shadows under his eyes added to the look of haggard annoyance he shot in her direction. He pointed at the water without breaking eye contact. "Hey, look, it's a stream."

"So?"

"What can you find in streams?"

She stared at the water a moment. "Fish."

"Great. There you go." He flicked his wrist and turned away. "Enjoy."

"I'll enjoy it when you catch it."

He raised his eyebrows and swiveled around to face her, putting his hands on top of his knees. "Seriously?" He lifted his arms so she could see the work she and her soldiers had done to him. "Burned feet, extensive bruising, mutilated hand," he said, waving it about. "Do these even register to you?"

"If you're looking for sympathy," she began, not bothering to hide her boredom, but he cut her off.

"How about a little empathy? Ever tried that?"

"Why would I want to put myself in lesser shoes or understand how my inferiors feel?"

He ground his teeth and then took a long breath and exhaled it out his nose. "You're just trying to get to me, aren't you?"

"It's possible," she replied, and inspected some dirt under her fingernails.

"How about another compromise?"

"I'm listening," she said, continuing her inspection.

"I'll teach you how to catch a fish and clean it and cook it and then not only will we have dinner, but you'll have a useful new skill in case you ever end up stranded on your own."

"Well that sounds like a lot of work on my part, but I suppose it can't be helped." She got to her feet and dusted off her pants. "So what do I do first?"

He scratched the scruff on his chin and rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw. Eventually his goatee would end up becoming a full beard and Azula wasn't sure what she thought about that. "There's a few different methods you could use here." He glanced around at the rocks standing in the shallow stream. "But what I'm going to teach you is called trout tickling."

"Trout tickling? That sounds ridiculous."

"Ridiculous but effective," he said, leaning forward intently.

"Ah, then I can see how that would appeal to you." She rolled her eyes. "Let's get this over with."

"Okay, head slowly over to that rock." He pointed. "Fish like to rest in sheltered areas."

"I didn't realize fish get tired."

"They're living things," he said and shook his head like he couldn't believe he had to explain it. "You get tired, they get tired, and suddenly I'm getting really tired."

"Alright, you don't need to get snippy." She made her way to the rock, quiet and careful as a shadow. "Now what?" she whispered, unsure if the fish might hear her.

"Reach down under the edge," he said and wiggled his fingers in the air. "Come up from below the fish and just kind of tickle along the bottom of it until you find its gills."

"This is stupid," she muttered but did as she was told. To her surprise, her fingers brushed against something that most definitely was not a rock. She felt fins and scales and then the slits behind the fish's head. "What's next?" She hoped she didn't sound too excited.

"Well, you keep tickling and it'll sort of put him into a trance. Then you can just hook 'em by the gills and throw him on the bank."

She tickled, feeling a bit foolish, and cast a glance back to make sure he wasn't laughing at her expense. He wasn't, but she didn't like the slight tilt of his head or the odd expression on his face that she couldn't place. She was bent over with her posterier in the air and she could only imagine the unacceptable view she was presenting. "Stop staring," she hissed and he blinked, looking stupid.

"Huh?"

She hooked the gill and turned in one fluid motion, tossing the flopping fish directly at his flopping jaw. It smacked him in the face and he yelped, fumbling to catch their dinner and managing to juggle it a few times before he and the fish fell back off his seat.

"Ack, it's getting away!" He pointed helplessly as the fish flapped and flopped, jerking its way toward the water. Azula kicked off from the nearby rock and launched an unnecessarily large stream of blue flame, ending the fish's mad dash for freedom.

Sokka uncurled from the defensive ball he'd rolled into and sat up, half covered in sand and mud, and waved his fist in the air. "You could have killed me!"

She smirked. "More fish for me, that way."

He snorted and then laughed to himself as he brushed off the dirt. "So you do have a sense of humor."

She used the larger rocks as stepping stones, making it back to the shore effortlessly, and collecting the half burned remains of their dinner. "And look, we don't even have to cook it."

He grabbed his sword and handed it to her hilt first. "Slice open the belly and pull out the guts. Then we'll see if we can salvage the rest."

She did as she was told and didn't even feel irritated when he told her to clean it off in the stream. He showed her how to skewer it and how to build a proper fire and in no time, they were sitting in a strangely comfortable silence, waiting for their dinner to cook.

"It's amazing how such a simple thing can give someone such a sense of accomplishment," she said. "I suppose I can see why you ever bother getting out of the bed in the morning. Even when you were traveling with your vastly superior friends."

He gave her a strained smile in return for her gracious compliment. "Well, it wasn't always this easy to keep everybody fed and happy. There were a lot of rough times, not to mention all the close calls." He shrugged. "We were lucky."

"In my experience, you make your own luck."

He grinned. "Are we actually having a civil conversation?"

"I can threaten you, if you prefer."

He held up his good hand, laughter in his eyes. "No, no, this is fine." He smiled at her for a long moment, making her feel increasingly uncomfortable, until he finally looked away to check the fish. "It's ready. Which half do you want?"

"I don't need half," she said, keeping the lie smooth. "It's a big fish."

Keen blue eyes met her own and she suspected he saw right through her. She started to regret the gesture - she'd only offered so he could keep his strength up and continue to be useful - but then he smiled again and sliced the fish apart with practiced ease. "Well, you can have the good parts then."

She accepted the smoking fish and sank her teeth into the tender meat. It was good. Exceptionally good. Perhaps the best fish she'd ever tasted. She was about to say as much when a rustle in the trees drew their attention. Sokka dropped his untouched fish and grabbed his sword as they both got to their feet, ready to defend themselves from whatever hideous monster the island might have spawned.

"Princess! Are you there?"

"Here!" she called back and the clearing filled with red armor and men she'd never expected to see again.

"Take him down!" Lieutenant Sen ordered and for a moment Azula wondered what he was talking about. She followed her officer's gaze and found Sokka, teeth and blade bared, looking for the world like some kind of feral animal she'd found in the woods. Her men surrounded him and the fight was brief and bloody.

He took off the first attacker's hand at the wrist and the gauntleted fist fell dead at Azula's feet. She looked up when she heard a sickening crunch and blood from Sokka's brutally broken nose splattered over her face and clothes. His eyes met hers and the moment seemed to hang in the air between them.

Did he expect her to do something?

But then red fists flew and slammed into his jaw and shoulders and stomach and chest and back and he disappeared in the crowd of angry men. She could just make him out between their legs, curled into a ball as they kicked and pummeled and beat him into the rocky shore of their once peaceful stream.

A/N2: Don't forget, Reviews are Love! :D Chapter 6 is kicking my butt and I could use the encouragement.