DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR THE LAST AIR BENDER. ALL RIGHTS GO TO ITS RESPECTIVE OWNERS

"Burn"

1.) to feel heat or a physiologically similar sensation; feel pain from or as if from a fire

Katara slaved over the pot of soup, pouring vegetables and the last of the meat the group had left from the market into the concoction.

Muttering every now and then about how she was the only one to ever contribute to the cleaning and cooking part of their journey, she hardly noticed Zuko walk into the kitchen, sit at the table and watch her.

He was amused, to say the least, at how she would spiral around the kitchen like an angry tornado, gathering up various ingredients to contribute to the meal.

Finally he decided to speak; unfortunately it was at the exact moment Katara decided to carefully heave the soup off of the fire.

"Do you need some help with that?"

Startled, her careful hold on the pot slipped. And her palm came to rest of the hot surface, burning her hand.

Hissing in pain, she carefully laid the pot on the counter top and turned her palm over to examine the extent of the damages.

She sighed as she saw the red skin, scorched badly from the hot surface. The throbbing pain she felt within her hand was horribly, uneasy to deal with, but she refused to cry in front of the exiled prince that insisted on testing her temper.

Suddenly he was right there next to her. "Here, let me see it."

"No," she said quickly. "It-it's fine. Just a little pain."

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe we both know you're lying."

Katara glanced at him and, defeated, raised her hand up for him to examine.

Seemingly surprised that she did what he asked so quickly, he didn't take her palm right away.

She raised her eyebrow. "Are you going to look at it or not?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

Quickly he inspected it, igniting a slight hiss of pain from her as he barely brushed her fingers.

He looked at her in a way of saying I told you so.

"I have had a bit more experience around burns than you and, in my book; this does not qualify as being "fine"." He said. However, no trace of smugness or arrogance was detectable in his voice. He just sounded matter- of- fact.

"I'll be fine once I heal it. Problem solved." But she felt she had to tell him thanks for looking at her hand anyway. Sighing, she spoke, not allowing her pride to stop her. "Thanks though, for helping me."

He smiled and carefully let go of her hand.

As she hurriedly healed her palm and continued to finish cooking the meal, Katara wondered if it was normal that she missed his hand cradling hers.

*****R&R

~Moonlit- Silhouette