"Zuko."

His name is whispered so softly that he isn't sure if he imagined it or not. It's only when he sluggishly opens his eyes and sees Katara directly above him that he realizes she'd actually spoken to him.

"Zuko, wake up." Katara is huddled close to him, the short gusts of her breath brushing his face as she whispers, "We have to go." It's still pitch black in their small shed, he notes, turning his head to look over at the door. If it were morning, the sunrise would have started to show through the cracks in the door.

"Not morning yet." Zuko mumbles. Sleep still weighs heavily on his lids and urges him to return to his surprisingly peaceful slumber.

"I know, but we have to go now." She urges, gripping his shoulders and wrenching him into a sitting position. He groans, rubbing his face with a yawn. His muscles feel stiff, the hard wood floor of their hiding place having done him no favors as a bed, and he tries to stretch to work out some of the kinks.

"Why?" He asks, looking for her in the darkness as she moves away from him.

"I heard Appa." Zuko doesn't immediately register what she means, frowning as he rubs his sore neck, "I think the soldiers found him. We need to go make sure he's safe." Katara crosses the short distance to the door and leaves before he can even respond. He blinks after her, quickly staggering to his feet and gathering his bag. He then searches the room somewhat blindly for his cloak, but as Katara's footsteps fade, he abandons it and rushes from the room.

"Katara?" He calls as he stumbles out into the soft moonlight. The alleyway is deserted and eerily silent, offering him no clues as to where she had disappeared. He recalls which way he'd heard her go, though, and starts running in that direction.

"Katar—" A hand suddenly clasps over his mouth as its opposite grabs the back of his tunic and yanks back. Zuko instinctively tenses, his hands clenching into fists that birth flames. He attempts to twist to strike his attacker, but a knee slams into his back before he can fully turn and knocks the breath out of him. The fire on his fist dies as he struggles to catch his breath. Zuko feels his wrists being yanked behind his back and held in one massive hand while the other stays firmly planted on his mouth.

"I bet you thought you were real clever with your little steam trick." A rough voice growls into his ear, the hand over his mouth pressing hard enough to make Zuko groan in protest. He can't pull in any kind of air as the man's fingers press over his nose and mouth, refusing him the ability to breathe, let alone free himself, "I'll give it to you, it was pretty crafty. But parlor tricks aren't going to save you now, Prince Zuko." Zuko makes a last ditch effort to fight the soldier, thrashing in the steel grip and kicking backwards blindly in hopes of striking one of the man's legs. The soldier seems to be expecting it, though, shifting his leg just in time to dodge Zuko's heel before he uses the Prince's momentum to force his legs apart as his feet return to the ground. It leaves Zuko in an awkwardly wide and unbalanced stance, chest heaving as he tries to pull in the tiny amounts of air that could pass through the soldier's fingers.

"See, now you're just embarrassing yourself." His voice is distorted, black spots starting to form in Zuko's vision, "Don't you want to die with some honor?" His brow shoots upwards in surprise and he makes a noise of confusion against the soldier's hand. The man's chest is pressed into Zuko's back, so he feels more than hears the deep chuckle that resonates from his assailant.

"What, you thought the Fire Lord wanted you alive? He doesn't want you in chains, kid, he wants you in a body bag." Zuko's blood runs cold, blinking rapidly as he tries to stay conscious, "And as for your little friend? I'm sure he'll find a use for her. She's got some good curves on her." Fury gives Zuko a second wind, snarling against the hand clasped over his mouth. He barely has the energy to struggle, but he does, because this isn't just about him anymore. This is about Katara and that fact pushes Zuko past his own limits. Heat rushes to Zuko's hands and his skin blisters with the intensity of it, but it accomplishes his goal of freeing his wrists as the soldier cries out in pain.

With his hands freed, he lashes out and lands a solid strike against the man's ribs. The soldier wheezes, his remaining hand falling from Zuko's mouth as he staggers backwards. Zuko takes a moment to pull in a full breath, his senses returning with full clarity.

"You little brat—" He hisses and Zuko growls, spinning to face him and catching his fist before he can land the punch on the Prince. He finally gets a good look at the soldier, his face heavily bandaged and swollen, but his eyes aren't dimmed in the slightest. He looks at Zuko with nothing but unbridled rage as Zuko tosses his hand aside and kicks him in the chest, sending him sprawling out into the center of the alleyway.

"You can tell my father—" Zuko presses his heel into the soldier's throat, bending down and leaning his weight into it, "—that if he wants me, dead or alive, he can come and get me himself." That familiar cold-blooded fury that he had so often used in the beginning of his banishment courses through his veins and hangs on every syllable. For a moment, he's the villain he had once been, and the shock and terror the soldier is experiencing as Zuko just barely avoids crushing his windpipe is clear in his wide eyes.

"Understood?" Zuko asks, glaring down at him as he receives nothing but silence. He presses down more firmly, causing the soldier to gag and choke, "That wasn't rhetorical." He doesn't see if the man responds, his attention being drawn elsewhere as the water from a nearby puddle lifts off the ground and gathers around his prey's arms and legs. It quickly freezes, pinning him where he lie.

"Zuko." Katara says as she approaches from the shadows. In the height of his rage, he almost forgets where he is—and who the enemy really was—his fists clenching tightly as he lifts his heel off of the man's throat and faces Katara, prepared for a fight. All of his righteous indignation suddenly dies when he sees the way she looks at him, though. She's approaching him carefully, her steps as light as possible and a hand hovering at her hip over her canteen. His fists unclench, the fight leaving him. She was afraid of him.

"Katara." He raises his hands, holding his palms out to her in the most nonthreatening way possible. It seems to put her somewhat at ease, "We should go." He wants to say a thousand things to her, but that's all he can choke out.

"Let's go." She answers, her words hiding just as much as his.

Katara had somehow tricked herself into forgetting what a violent force Zuko is. Seeing him pinning down the hulking soldier from the day before like a cat owl toying with a mouse was like being brought back in time. Everything from his posture down to how he'd spoken his words had reminded her of the petulant boy they'd met in the very beginning, and it was the wake up call she needed to remind herself that that boy and this man were the same person. The cruelty that had lived in him then was still there, but it was somewhere deeper now. Hidden under diction and niceties, Zuko had the capacity to be truly terrifying.

And still, even knowing that, she finds herself walking closely enough to him that she feels the heat rolling off of him in waves. She can't make herself care about what she'd seen when she was just happy to see that he was okay. It was hard to admit to herself, but she'd been genuinely scared for his safety when she'd looked back to find he hadn't followed her. Her entire run back had been filled with thoughts of the worst possible scenario, and she'd broken into a cold sweat at the thought of Zuko being injured or—worse. But he seemed to have been able to handle himself, only coming away with some burns and blistering on his hands and wrists.

"Wait." Zuko bends down to scoop up something; turning it over in his hands gingerly, "Flash bombs casings." He says as he walks around Appa and picks up several more of the small silver objects. Katara follows him, taking one of the casings from his hand and studying it. It was Fire Nation engineering at its finest, the thin metal casing being made of expensive steel and engraved with tiny characters indicating its make.

"Why would they use these on Appa?" She asks, looking to the bison. He seemed somewhat aggravated and shaken, but was otherwise unharmed.

"They wanted to draw us out of hiding." Zuko tosses the shells aside, wiping his hand on his tunic before he cringes, the rough fabric worrying his blisters, "They're mostly harmless. Appa won't be able to see very well for a few hours, but he'll be fine."

"I guess that means he won't be flying any time soon." Katara sighs out, gently stroking the bison's cheek. He lets out a groan, blinking repeatedly as he tries to make out her form. She doesn't know if this is something she can heal, and she's never tried her abilities on non-humans, so she decides to let him recover naturally.

"Not unless he can fly blindly." Zuko answers, keeping his distance from the two of them as he rounds the clearing. Appa wasn't very far outside of the town, and the flash bombs had most likely been the work of the vengeful soldier that had attacked him, but he still considered the possibility of an ambush. After circling the clearing several more times and coming back with nothing to support his fears, he seems to have decided that the other soldiers had given up on their pursuit hours ago.

"I think he can, but he probably won't." Katara says as she scales Appa's side and settles in the saddle. She looks back and finds Zuko watching her from the ground curiously.

"So why are you up there?" He asks, and she leans over the edge of the saddle to look down at him.

"The saddle is more comfortable than the ground. We can get a few more hours of sleep here." She digs through the travel compartment in the saddle, pulling out some of her spare clothing that she'd packed for emergencies. She hears Zuko climb into the saddle and set down his bag heavily, "You still have the rice?" He nods, sitting on the far end of the saddle.

"I think we need to talk." Zuko says solemnly as Katara tucks the clothes into what can generously be called a pillow.

"About rice?" She asks with a slight smirk, setting the pillow down and sitting back against it.

"About us." He responds, his tone and face grim, "And what you saw back there." She pulls her knees up to her chest defensively, looking him over from head to toe.

"I don't want to talk about that. About us, or what I saw. I don't care what I saw."

"But what about us?" Zuko prods, and crawls closer because he has to practically yell with how far apart they are. She wishes she could back away from him without climbing on top of Appa's head. He settles at arms length from her on his knees.

"There is no us." She snaps, extending her legs to push him back and put up a minimum distance between them, "There has never been an us. There never will be an us." Even she can tell how fake her words sound as she speaks them. She can't fully commit herself to such a sentiment when all she can do is focus on the way he looks at her and how badly she wants to just touch him—where did that come from?

"I don't mean it like that. I'm not saying there's anything…more going on between us. I just want to know what we are." Zuko is obviously struggling to express his thoughts on the matter, motioning nonsense gestures with his injured hands, "I know we aren't friends, and we're not still enemies. But if we're neither of those, what else does that leave?" She refuses to look at him, picking at a stray thread on her skirt in a now common nervous gesture.

"Who said we aren't enemies?" She continues staring at the threads on her skirt, waiting for his reply, but it doesn't come. She finally looks up, seeing something she hadn't expected in the slightest. Hurt. He was hurt, angry and frustrated, his jaw clenching tightly and his brow furrowing.

"What do you want from me, Katara?" He asks, crawling forward once again and breaching the barrier she'd set up with her legs. Her heart pounds in her throat as his hands settle on either side of her hips, bracing him less than a foot from her. His knees are between her calves, unintentionally pinning her skirt to the saddle and preventing her from fleeing like she wants to because the fluttering in her stomach is undeniable now.

"What kind of penance do you want me to pay for what I've done?" He asks, his eyes smoldering like boiling lava and boring into hers, "Or is it just who I was or…am, I guess. I know I'm everything you hate, but this can't be a lost cause. I won't let it be." She makes several attempts at responding, eyes flicking between his scar, his mouth, his clenched jaw—anywhere but those intense eyes.

"Why do you care what I think of you?" She finally manages, swallowing heavily as she tries to clear whatever it is that's choking her. He lets out an exasperated sigh, lowering his head and leaning into her shoulder. She jolts when the crown of his head connects with her skin, unintentionally gripping his arms in shock.

"I don't know." He mumbles, pulling back but refusing to look at her this time. She doesn't move her hands from his arms, finding herself holding him tighter.

"I don't hate you." Katara whispers, drawing his gaze, but it's not nearly as intense as it had been before. His breath shudders out against her cheek, the distance between them nearly nonexistent. She could push him away like she knows she should, her fingers digging into his arms as if she's about to do just that, but she realizes she's pulling him closer instead. She wants this.

They connect in a clash of lips and teeth. It's not a gentle kiss by any means, his mouth moving against hers forcefully and her lips pushing back just as aggressively, and the total of their shared frustrations flows through the kiss. Her hands move from his arms to his hair, tangling in the locks and grabbing fistfuls of it that she tugs lightly, her nails ghosting across his scalp. It draws a moan from him that resonates against her mouth and sends a foreign jolt through her. He seems hesitant to move closer, or even touch her, keeping a small distance between their bodies that he doesn't close until she uses one hand to grip his shirt and pull him towards her. He follows the momentum of her grip and shifts his knees, pressing himself against her until their chests meet and his hips are settled against hers. He finally pulls away for quick gasps of air, his forehead resting against her neck and his lips finding her pulse in her throat.

"I—Katara…" Katara shakes her head, tugging his hair to pull his head back up. He blinks, confusion and desire swirling in his gaze.

"Don't." She doesn't want the opportunity to think about what they're doing. She knows as soon as she thinks about this, these wonderful feelings will end. She can already feel panic rearing its ugly head, but she quickly stifles it by recapturing his lips. Their second kiss smolders, less aggressive but deeper than their first and another unfamiliar shudder runs through her. He seems to gain confidence, shifting his weight and clasping her sides, his deft fingers tracing the curves of her waist. Her wandering hands respond by running down the planes of his chest, settling on the sash around his abdomen holding his tunic closed and lingering on the knot in its center.

As the knot comes undone, a sudden flash of light shines through her eyelids and she blinks rapidly. Appa lets out an irritated groan and whips around beneath them, throwing Zuko off of her. His back collides with the edge of the saddle roughly, and he seems to be in a daze for a moment before he comes to his senses. Sitting up quickly, he tries to discern what had caused the disturbance. Her brain feels clouded, struggling to process anything but the way his hair sticks up where she'd run her fingers through it and how his chest heaves beneath the thin fabric of his shirt and unbound tunic. She wants to reach out and touch him again.

"You again." Zuko hisses, standing and jumping from the saddle in one swift move. Katara climbs up after him, rising and looking down at where he'd disappeared. The fog that had settled over her mind dissipates and she grits her teeth angrily. She sees the now familiar form of the soldier that had so mercilessly hunted them. Zuko is holding his own, dodging and striking skillfully, but she joins the fight by drawing water from the discarded canteen nearby and freezing it into razor sharp crystals, throwing them at the soldier with a short, furious cry. They imbed in the man violently, blood seeping out from the wounds and sapping further energy from him. He stumbles as Zuko attacks, the Prince whipping his heel across the ground and sending out a wave of fire that knocks the soldier's feet from beneath him and burns his back once he's tumbled to the ground.

"You've blinded Appa, attacked us—three times—and now you've interrupted something very…important. What makes you think I should let you live?" Zuko asks, storming forward with two powerful jets of fire streaming from his clenched fists.

"Zuko." Katara says, looking down at him imploringly. Their eyes meet and his dual fires suddenly die. He takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"Leave now, and I'll let you live. Come back again, and I won't make any promises." The soldier seems to have finally admitted defeat, blood loss and trauma catching up with him, and staggers to his feet before limping away into the shadowed forest. Zuko doesn't look up at her, glaring after him.

"I should have killed him. He's going to come back." She frowns, looking in the direction that the soldier had retreated in.

"If he does, we can handle him, but we don't kill." Zuko runs a hand through his hair, further ruffling it, and lets out an agitated breath.

"Even if they deserve it?"

"If we killed every person who deserved it, you'd be dead several times over." He looks up at her and she regrets her words immediately, "We need to get some sleep before sunrise." She transitions, moving away from the edge of the saddle to settle back down on her makeshift pillow. When Zuko climbs back into the saddle, he lays down heavily in the opposite corner, his backed turned to her. Neither of them truly sleeps, the tension too thick in the air to do so, and eventually they watch the sunset from opposite sides of the saddle.

A/N: Gave you a taste of that Zutara then snatched it away like the villain I am. But I assure you, the good stuff is coming. I just. Couldn't quite incorporate sexy times into this chapter because having sex on Appa is something that shouldn't happen ever I don't think. Comments and reviews give me life! ~ Jiggle