Writer's Note: While editing a couple of old fics, this little idea nagged me. You see glimpses of Aang and Mai as Zuko's left and right hands in Too Good to be True, and yet beyond that I haven't gone into much detail about it, despite it being my own personal post-series canon during the first three years of Zuko's rule. So came along this little fic; I get to vent out some of my political spleen as well as toy with the dynamics between Aang and Mai, and how they may (or may not) get along. So once again I'm going back in time, set before Tea and Sympathy, and then leading up to after From the Vine. It got away from me, so it's a bit….wordy, much like this intro! So I'm shutting up now. ENJOY.

Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

There was no use in denying it.

She had tried to, really. After all, he was, what, five years her junior and perhaps her complete opposite in terms of temperament and personality.

And yet, as the days grew to weeks, and the weeks into months, Mai found herself understanding why Zuko was such close friends with Aang.

Granted, she had been one of the few who hadn't really had the chance to fight Aang during the war. She had experienced several encounters with other members of the "good guys" (Suki still had her moments of sensitivity, for example), but when it came to Aang, she had never really faced him.

Despite this, she was still rather surprised when, a few days after her reunion with Zuko, he had leaned in close to her, put his hands behind his back, and said, with a big smile, "So, you're one of us, now, huh?"

She had been so flustered by this, she had only managed to get out, "Rue the day I become as simpering as the rest of you."

Which, as a result, made him laugh.

Perhaps it was because she hadn't fought him face-to-face, but for some reason, Aang seemed particularly taken by her. He always made sure to greet her whenever she was in the room, and whenever there was a lull in conversation, he focused on her to start it up again.

It was…bizarre for her, to say the least. While she was used to younger boys crawling all over her and making sport of her (Tom-Tom was an expert as this, as well as a couple of cousins in the mix), having the Avatar, her once-sworn enemy, desire her friendship, was something out of a story.

But then…it became a little clearer when Zuko said, rather casually, that he expected both Mai and Aang to sit with him at every important meeting.

"You're the two people I trust the most, besides Uncle," he admitted. "I need you there."

Mai leaned back, unable to suppress the smirk on her lips. "So that you won't mess up?"

Zuko's ears went red, but he smirked back, leaning towards her. "And the world knows I can't mess up with you there."

Aang put a hand to his chin. "Okay, so if Mai is your etiquette police, what do you need me there for?"

"Because you're the Avatar, dummy," Mai replied flatly.

"Plus, uh," and the blush spread to Zuko's cheeks. "Sometimes Mai has this uncanny ability to distract me. I would hate for this to happen while I'm overseeing. I know you could help me with that."

Mai covered her mouth and turned her head away, her shoulders shaking.

Aang was silent for a moment, obviously not sure what this meant. That was, just for a moment. Then his eyes focused, widened, and rolled upward. "Oh, man," he groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. "And you expect to be Fire Lord in a few days with a thought process like that?"

It was hard to not like the kid after a comment like that.

Aang also travelled a lot. It wasn't unusual for a meeting to be postponed on his behalf due to his travels, but the thing with Aang was that he was reliable; if he said he would make it for a time specified, he would make it.

In a way that Zuko probably never really anticipated, having them both there, on either side of him, was a solid idea. For the first year and a half of Zuko's rule, he had a lot of trouble reigning in his temper when dealing with the land disputes. It took that long to get them all sorted through, a period that was exceedingly difficult for them all.

There was one incident that seemed to solidify Aang's place on the dais with Zuko and Mai.

"Fire Lord, with all respect, you can't just abolish a sacred art and expect the entire Nation to agree."

Zuko's eyebrow rose, his mouth a tight line. This was one of the most infamous council meetings in Fire Nation history, his first real mandate as Fire Lord, and one that would ensure his –if not already established- immortality.

Mai leaned back slowly, her lips also going thin. Being a non-bender, she had little to say about this; her reaction was in response to the noble's hostility.

Zuko then spoke the words that would echo for decades. "There is nothing sacred about a so-called art that honours brutality and ruthlessness. There is nothing honourable about the Agni Kai. I should know. The last was fought by me. Never again will there be an Agni Kai. If anyone is found to practise it, they will face consequences."

By the end, his voice had risen and was tight with unspent and underlying aggravation. His eyes were narrow, and his hands were clenched and held in his lap, shaking. It was still early in his reign, and before then, it was hard to ascertain what kind of Fire Lord he would be, given that his first few meetings had ended in shouting and flustered dismissals. With these words, it made a statement, louder than his voice ever could.

But Aang saw trouble in the bravery of his friend's words.

"What I think Fire Lord Zuko is trying to stress here," he said calmly, his voice somewhat high with the tension forming in the room, "is that, as it goes in a world of peace, something as dangerous as the Agni Kai isn't a good idea."

"There's no place for it," Zuko grated out, his voice thick. "It's nothing but brutality."

Mai lowered her eyes, shifting a little on her cushion. Zuko's eyes flicked over to hers, and true enough, from the corners of her eyes, she was looking at him. She blinked, slowly, a ghost of a smile upon her lips. It's okay now, she seemed to be saying. It's okay.

"You may state that it's brutality," the noble went on, "but it's a tradition that we, as a people, are famous for. We're known for our kind of personal justice here…"

And that was where it almost fell apart. With those words, a laugh, akin to a hoarse bark, escaped Zuko. "You call that justice?" he snapped. The fires around him, muted in comparison to his predecessors, flared to life suddenly in his ire. "You call that…that…"

Aang held out his hand, throwing his arm out at Zuko, the palm flat towards the older boy. Zuko's words stuttered to a halt. Wordlessly, Aang inhaled, his other hand rising slightly before lowering, and the flames died back to their calmer state.

Aang kept his hand out. "Try to see it from this side," he said, his voice so serious it was mesmerizing. Even Mai was unable to tear her eyes away. "While it's commendable, really, to take a form of retribution into your own hands, to try and solve your problems on your own, try to see it from Fire Lord Zuko's point of view, and from mine, as well. All we want is for there to be peace and happiness. We want this world to be free of reasons to resort to violence. While the Agni Kai's history is long and celebrated, in a time of prosperity, it can only stain the beauty of the Nation. There is no place for it anymore."

He paused, then lowered his hand, putting it to his chin. The entire room seemed to hold his breath, wondering what this young Avatar would say next.

"Unless," he said aloud, "we make it into a game, call it something else. Make it a tournament of sorts. Call it the Agni Cup, or something."

And those were the words that made Aang immortal within the Fire Nation.

After, when the meeting was broken up and the three went to the main apartments, Zuko sat down and cradled his head in his hands, refusing to look up. Mai sat down beside him, her finger out to poke some sense into him, but his words stopped her.

"This is why I need you both," he murmured, his voice choked. "I almost lost it in there. All I could see was my father, about to burn me. I couldn't see anything else. I almost went crazy."

Aang sat down on his other side, looking at Mai over his head. She looked back, her shoulders slumping a little. It always made her feel helpless in times like this; she wasn't good with comforting words. Aang leaned down and put a hand on Zuko's back.

"You kept calm," he replied. "As calm as anyone could expect."

"Yeah, come on, Zuko," Mai agreed. "Even if the world doesn't know about your personal history, they have to agree that the Agni Kai is outdated."

Zuko looked up, his eyes dark with his worry. "I almost snapped."

Mai cupped his cheek, her eyes flicking over to Aang's. Their eyes met, and they both had a mutual thought: He's afraid he's turning into Ozai…

"But you didn't," Aang protested.

"Because of you," Zuko muttered.

"Right!" Aang agreed happily. "Because of us! You're not alone, and you never will be."

Mai couldn't help herself. She tapped his cheek lightly. "Yeah, Zuko. Stop fretting. We'll always be here to stop you from being a jackass."

Zuko snorted out a laugh, shutting his eyes and lowering his head again. "Thanks," he whispered.

It wasn't just the dais that brought Aang and Mai closer. It was down time, as well. Throughout the years, especially during harder times, the only relief came with time spent amongst friends. It was fleeting at best, but cherished all the same.

At first, if she were to be honest, Mai loathed these kinds of get-togethers. It wasn't easy for her to just let things go, nor was it easy for her to pretend they never happened. She wasn't like Ty Lee, but at least she wasn't like Azula, either.

When a year passed since Ozai's downfall, Aang and Katara paid a visit to the Palace. When Mai received the summons to see them in the city, she was, to say the least, bemused; the request was for her, and her alone. There was no mention of Zuko, save one line near the end: Keep this from Zuko!

She had trouble lying to him, especially since they were going to get married in the fall, but she managed it, just a little. When she met up with them at the inn they were staying at, she had a lot of questions and a fair amount of comments, but she said nothing. She merely sat in front of them, placed her hands in her lap, and glared.

Katara and Aang exchanged glances, apparently deciding between them as to who would speak first. Katara apparently was chosen, because she broke the gaze first. She smiled, her eyes shining, and she leaned in close over the table. "Mai, guess what?"

Mai inwardly sighed. She really liked her new friends, but sometimes they got on her nerves. Or maybe I still don't understand them, yet. "No," she answered flatly.

Aang puffed out his cheeks. "Come on, it's really great!" he protested.

"You made me lie to Zuko," was her answer. "This better be worth it."

Aang flushed, and Katara fidgeted a little with her hair. To Mai's surprise, they both looked shamed, which made her regret the harshness of her words, just a little. "Sorry, Mai," Aang admitted. "I promise, we won't do that again, but it's for a good cause, I assure you."

Mai raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Katara nodded, smiling again. "Tomorrow is the year-anniversary of the comet, right?"

Mai nodded slowly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"So, we were thinking of having a little get-together for Zuko, you know, a celebration of sorts," Aang burst out, his voice excited. "He's had such a rough year, and every time I see him nothing seems to cheer him up. So, we were thinking…"

Mai stared. "A surprise party," she finished, her eyes wide. "To cheer Zuko up?"

Katara and Aang nodded, both looking ridiculously pleased with themselves.

Mai realised something, very deep down, something that solidified and kept its shape: These people love Zuko, so much, just like you do, but it's not just that. They love you, too, in their own way. Why else would they share their silly schemes with you?

They're your friends, Mai. Let them into your heart. They will not betray you.

She was touched, truly touched. She felt her cheeks burn a little, but there was no use in hiding it; she had no real explanation anyway. She smiled, leaned in close, and said, "I'm in. Tell me what I can do."

Together, they hatched a very elaborate plan: Mai and Aang would distract Zuko for the morning, while Katara and the others (everyone within their little gang had shown up for this) prepared the main hall of the Palace for the celebration. Aang's idea of a distraction was to keep Zuko outside in the courtyards to play with the turtleducks, but Mai was adamant about her opinion.

"No," she said sternly. "Not the ponds. Not tomorrow."

Aang froze. "But, why? It's such a happy place, full of new life." He smiled. "It's beautiful there."

Mai shook her head. "It holds bitter memories," she answered. "Zuko doesn't need to be reminded of his mother's absence on a happy day, Aang."

Katara and Aang again exchanged glances. "But…even if it were to sadden him, it would be good to cheer him up later," Aang protested.

Mai snorted. "Zuko soaks in his depression. He has a right, but it can be tiring and difficult to drag him out of it. If he's in that state and you surprise him with something happy, he's just going to react badly. It may just…" She held up her hand, trying to find more eloquent words, but failing. "It'll just piss him off, Aang. No."

"Mai, I respect that you know Zuko very well, but so do I," Aang persisted. "It'll be a great pick-me-up, something that he can look forward to, to look back on and see it as a sort of light to a sad day."

"I don't want any sadness on this day, Aang," she snapped, her temper getting away from her. "Think of something else, or trash the plan. No exceptions."

"Mai…"

"Aang," Katara broke in, putting a hand on Aang's shoulder. "She's right. Let it go."

"Why are you making a big deal out of this, anyways?" Mai wondered, her eyes narrowed. "Why are you fighting me on this?"

"I just…wanted Zuko to find the most happiness, you know?" Aang admitted, his voice soft. "And I thought, one way to have him experience that would be to also taste sadness, too."

"Not everything is a koan," Mai said, her voice harder than she intended.

"In any case," Katara broke in again, especially when Aang's face reddened and his eyes flashed with irritation. "We have to think of another plan. Any ideas, Mai?"

"Let me distract Zuko in my own way," she replied, somewhat mysteriously. "I promise that it won't interfere with the plans."

Katara and Aang exchanged somewhat wary glances, and Mai had to hide a smirk; they had guessed what she had meant, but were too polite (or somewhat uncomfortable) to say anything about it.

What she never owned up to, however, was the fact that what they had guessed was only part of it. The morning, which was gifted to the both of them from the officials, was spent entirely in bed, under the covers, teasing and laughing, whispering and caressing, giggling and touching, and it was one of the sweetest pockets of time that Mai had ever experienced with him. It was exactly the way she had wanted to spend the morning; seeing his eyes sparkle, glaze over with passion, glow with intense feeling, close with unspeakable pleasure…it was perfect.

In the afternoon, as an additional surprise of her own making, Iroh surprised Zuko by just showing up at the dining hall holding a huge pot of tea and a sneaky grin. Mai shot him a sly smile of her own, while Zuko leapt to his feet and spluttered out happy greetings, not even letting Iroh set down the tea before assaulting him with a hug.

Perfect, Mai thought with a smile, watching Zuko and Iroh chat amicably about everything, including the anniversary of the comet and what the capitol was doing to celebrate it.

"And you, Zuko," Iroh broke in, holding out a cup of tea to his nephew. "What are your plans to celebrate?"

Zuko made a face. "I'm not even sure this is something to celebrate. The comet rained down so much destruction on the Earth Kingdom. It's the sign of hardship for a lot of people…"

Iroh and Mai exchanged worried glances. Mai broke in. "But, Zuko, it's also a day of liberation. The entire world was freed that day."

Zuko looked into his teacup somberly, his eyes downcast. "I know. But…some people's lives ended that day, and not just with death."

Iroh sighed, and Mai winced a little. Both knew where Zuko's mind was, and there was no delicate way to veer him away. With a light touch, Mai place her hand on his back. He looked over at her, and she looked back, trying to show that she understood; after all, she had been Azula's best friend at one point.

Iroh sipped his tea slowly, taking his time to taste it, before speaking. His voice was soft, but not without its degree of sternness. "Zuko, you are the Fire Lord now. Like it or not, it is your destiny to, for lack of better phrasing, end lives in one way or another."

Mai shot a sharp look to him, but he merely raised an eyebrow. Zuko, however, had raised his head and was listening, despite the grim expression on his face.

"The lives you claim ended a year ago made way for hundreds of lives to continue," Iroh went on, his eyes dark. "The lifestyle that my brother sought out was one that would be built upon thousands of ghosts."

Zuko blinked, slowly, and Mai's anger faded. It made sense.

"Please, understand that I do not say this to dishearten you; rather, I say it to remind you that the events of last year, while still a loss, could have amounted to something much worse."

"I know," Zuko murmured, his voice soft. "I just…wish things would be happier."

Mai grabbed onto Zuko's face with both hands, unable to keep herself from doing so. She dragged his face to hers, pushing her nose to his. She stared into his bewildered eyes. "Things are happier, you big whiner," she snapped. "Look at you: your eyes have never been brighter in all of the years I have known you."

"And," Iroh broke in with a smile, "your shoulders have never been seen below your ears for this long."

Zuko sighed, and finally – finally – he smiled, closing his eyes. "Now you're just making fun of me," he accused.

Mai kissed him lightly before letting go of his face. "So what?" she replied flatly. "You deserved it."

It had been a close call, but they had managed to finish the afternoon with laughter, louder and freer than before that moment of darkness. Mai found herself wondering, albeit briefly, if that was what Aang had meant by tasting sadness before being able to let real joy into the heart.

Damn, she thought, the little brat was right, after all.

And in the end, the night was a success. Zuko was effectively scared out of his mind when Iroh and Mai led him to the hall and into the nest of his friends. What was the sweetest part, however, was when everything was settled and Zuko was egged into making a speech. His words were awkward, and his face was red, but it was from the heart.

"You're all such wonderful, loving people," he said, his voice wavering. "I was such an idiot, and yet each of you gave me a second chance, a third chance. I…" and here, everyone in the room paused, because he shut his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. "I love you guys. Sorry." And he shot back down into his seat, his eyes shut and his face lowered, his hair hiding his face.

There was, perhaps, a split second when shocked silence blanketed the room. Then Aang leapt to his feet, soared over the table, and crashed into the Fire Lord, assaulting him with a ferocious hug and a laugh. Zuko squawked, his eyes still wet, his face scarlet. Aang's eyes opened and grabbed Mai's gaze, and she smirked, before lunging over and grabbing onto Zuko on his other side, burying her face into his neck.

From there, it was pretty obvious that everyone had to, after such a speech, hug Zuko in some way. What resulted was a mixture of pile-ups and shoving. It was horribly embarrassing and incredibly touchy-feely, not really something that was Mai's taste, but when she heard Zuko laugh and see first-hand how much love and respect everyone had for not just him, but everyone else around him, she realised that, perhaps, this touchy-feely crap isn't so bad after all…in doses, anyway.

A few days later, Mai spoke to Aang about it. It was right before a council meeting, one that Katara was also going to sit at, and she and Zuko were ahead of them chatting amicably (rather, Katara was teasing Zuko mercilessly and Zuko was making faces but also enjoying it). Seeing it as an opportunity, Mai leaned down close to Aang and whispered, "You were right, before."

Aang looked puzzled for a moment. Mai went on. "Your little koan," she supplied.

His eyes focused, and he frowned. "What do you mean?"

She told him what had happened that afternoon, and he nodded, looking a little sad. "Honestly? I knew it would happen that day at some point. I was just worried it would happen when he was alone. That was the last thing I wanted."

Mai was touched, once again. She also realised - with a bit of shame - that she really had to give credit to the other people in Zuko's life. She didn't, however, apologise, nor did she say so. Instead, wordlessly, she reached over and gave Aang's narrow shoulder a squeeze before letting go. Aang smiled, met her eyes for a moment, then looked away. He understood.

"What are you two whispering about?" Katara wondered sharply. Mai looked up, amused to find daggers in the other girl's eyes. Zuko looked bemused behind her.

Mai smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow, saying nothing. Aang sighed, held out his hands and said, "We were discussing meditation."

Mai's other brow went up, her eyes going to the younger boy's. He smiled, raising an eyebrow of his own. "Right, Mai?"

She nodded. "And how anyone, no matter what background, can use it to become better people." And here, she looked to the side a little.

Zuko caught her gaze, his eyes worried. She smiled at him. He looked bemused. He just had no idea. She knew she would have to explain it to him later, but for now, she was a little glad he didn't understand. She was also glad that Aang understood.

And she was also really glad that, in the most unlikely of places, she had made not just another friend, but another real friend. But she would eat her own knives before she ever said it out loud.

She looked at Katara coolly. "What, did you think I was uttering sweet nothings into his ear?"

Katara reddened, puffing out her cheeks. "Of course not!" she spluttered.

"Because, unlike you," Mai continued. "I like my men with hair."

Aang touched his head shyly. "I had hair once. Does that count?"

That seemed to solidify it for Mai; Aang was definitely her kind of friend.

Later in the years, throughout trials and drama, Mai had to admit that Aang was still definitely her kind of friend. Aang and Katara had always been the first to answer a call for distress from the Palace, no matter where they were, and both Zuko and Mai tried hardest to return the favour, especially when it came to the Air Temple settlements and a few skirmishes in the north. Before any of them had realised it, over a decade and a half had passed, and the friendships that Zuko had, privately, told Mai he was sure to lose were still going strong, stronger than ever.

Too bad their daughters failed to see it that way.

"The way I see it is this," Aang said casually over the sounds of Tyana and Kaida screaming at each other in the background. "Both Zuko and I hardly got on the right foot at first, right?"

Mai sipped her tea calmly, nodding her head.

"Stop pulling her hair right now!" Katara shouted at Tyana.

"Kaida, please stop biting her, or else I'm going to think you enjoy eating people," Zuko muttered shortly after, his voice drained.

"Well, since it took Zuko and me so long to be friends, I can only assume the same for our daughters, right?"

"Kaida, stop biting me."

"Don't give me that look, young lady! I invented that look!"

"I suppose that's true," Mai agreed calmly, meeting his gaze with a small smile. Aang's left eye twitched a little, especially from the sudden sound of firebending on behalf of Kaida (who was an early starter, much to her parent's chagrin), but the sound of Katara waterbending and Zuko jumping in to prevent his daughter from being washed away seemed to calm him, and it stopped.

"What do you think will happen once Sokka and Suki have a kid?" Mai wondered idly, speaking louder over the sound of Kaida's bratty wails and Tyana's shrieks of indignation.

"Oh, didn't you hear? I would have thought Suki would have told you, being your Royal Guard and all," Aang looked surprised.

"Hear what?"

"They decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to have kids," Aang replied, looking a trace sad. "Both of their lives are too busy, and since they only have fleeting time together as it is, having kids would only complicate that."

"Damn," Mai propped her chin on her hand, suddenly pensive. Suki hadn't told her that, nor had she given any hints about it, either. Granted, she had been really helpful with Kaida, especially in the last year when there was increased activity against the Palace, and she seemed genuinely taken with the small girl, but she had never given any hints that she wouldn't be following along and getting ready to have a child of her own. It was strange.

She would have to have a chat with Suki; that was for sure.

Suddenly, sharp little nails dug into her thigh, and she looked down to find the source of her thoughts glaring up at her with indignant yellow eyes. "Mom," she said flatly, "Dad is being annoying and spoiling my fun."

Mai raised an eyebrow, looked up at her husband, and met his gaze. He looked slightly singed, very tired, but also – she could see it plain as day – incredibly thrilled. Behind him, Katara held a sulky Tyana in her arms, but she was also trying very hard not to laugh. Both saw the irony too well.

Carefully keeping her face calm, Mai looked down at Kaida again and said, flatly, "Your fun is messy and we're not your personal maids."

Aang perked up, looking interested. "You guys have maids?!"

Which earned him a sour look from Mai, but laughs from everyone else.

Once it became clear that Kaida was in fact a firebender and that she was learning pretty quickly, Zuko took it upon himself to try and teach her. However, he quickly ran into a huge flaw, one that no teacher can possess while trying to teach a student.

His face was the perfect display of the agony he felt when he came to Mai with this problem. "I can't fight her seriously! I can't! It's too…it's way too close to home. I can't do it without fearing I'm going to hurt her!"

Mai stroked his hair, but said, "Of course you have to hurt her. Like it or not, as a student, she has to learn. It hurts."

Zuko shook his head. "No, you don't understand," he said, his voice suddenly a whisper. "I'm worried I'll really hurt her. Even if it's by accident…I can't do it."

Mai realised that the discussion was closed. There was no way that Zuko could seriously teach Kaida without having some sort of bias that would hinder her techniques. Thus, the only other Mai could think of (and that Zuko agreed with) was Aang.

Being a student of Zuko himself, Aang seemed to be the perfect solution to the problem. But what almost everyone seemed to forget that, since Aang was taught on a tight schedule, he had learned rather…intensely.

The first few lessons were, to be blunt, rather touch-and-go.

"Straighten up your stance!" Aang roared, his hands on his hips, his eyes blazing passionate. Kaida stood in front of him, scowling, but she obeyed. "Now, I want to see a flawless set, with no mistakes! We don't have time for mistakes!"

Mai and Zuko watched, speechless, as their pride and joy, their stubborn, mouthy eight-year-old daughter slip into a perfect stance. At the sound of Aang's single clap, her eyes turned steely, and she moved, fire sparking from her fingers and toes, arcing through the air like mist as she moved.

The scowl never left her face, however.

"I'm torn," Mai admitted in a hushed voice, watching Kaida leap up and kick her leg out, a blast of fire following. "She's learning, really well, but she looks as if she hates it."

"I don't want her to hate it, though," Zuko whispered back. "I want her to love it like I do, see it as a gift, and not a curse." He sighed, tugging at his hair. "What is he thinking, yelling at her like that?"

Mai raised an eyebrow and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You taught him. You tell me."

Zuko reddened, and Mai smirked. Point taken.

They let Kaida finish her set and bow to Aang before cutting in. Kaida took the opportunity to make herself scarce, while Zuko cornered Aang and, rather ungracefully, snapped out, "Quit being mean to my daughter!"

Aang looked surprised, his eyes huge on his face. "I'm not being mean! I'm teaching her firebending!"

"You're teaching her like Zuko taught you, right?" Mai broke in, shoving Zuko away easily. Aang nodded, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "There's no hurry, Aang; she doesn't need to rush. She hates it. Can't you tell?"

Aang looked confused for a moment, but only just. Then his eyes focused and he looked incredibly upset. "Oh no," he murmured, slapping his palm to his head. "She's going to get the wrong idea. Damn!"

"She already has, you idiot," Zuko snarled. "You have to fix it!"

"Hey," Aang looked up, his eyes flashing. "No need to call names. You weren't exactly the most delicate of teachers, you know. It's not hard to guess where my methods came from."

Mai stepped in between them easy. "Shut up, you idiots," she said calmly. "Zuko, you were a bad teacher. Aang, you're becoming a bad teacher. We get it. Now stop blaming each other and fix it. I won't have my daughter become a psycho bender, okay?"

Success. Both men looked down, shamefaced. Mai had to swallow her gloating; no one defused a fight faster than she did.

From then on, it was much better. Kaida seemed not only to notice the difference, but really appreciate it. By the end of the lesson, when Mai asked how it went, instead of hearing, "I'm tired and going to the springs," she was happy to hear, "Really good," followed by a quick replay of what she had learned. Her eyes were animated, and her face was sweaty and flush, but she was happy. Which was good.

Over tea, Mai expressed her gratitude to Aang. "She's changed. It worried me for a moment."

Aang nodded slowly. They were alone, in the garden, while Zuko and Kaida practised a couple of forms together in the Palace dojo and Katara and Tyana fed the turtleducks in front of the pond. He didn't say anything, but he knew what she meant, and it was left unspoken between them.

Over the years, when it came to Azula, things seemed to be looking up. The first few years were horrendous, and she hadn't made any progress at all. But once she started being visited regularly by not just Zuko, but Mai and Ty Lee as well, she seemed almost…calmer. In the past year alone she had only had two episodes, which was a record.

Still, that same blood ran through Kaida's veins, and in her darkest moments, Mai feared for her.

"I'm sorry I started off that way," Aang said suddenly, breaking Mai out of her dark thoughts. "Zuko was a great teacher, but…he was intense. It's true."

Mai smirked. "To say the least."

"And Toph wasn't exactly the calmest of teachers, either," he added, rubbing his chin. "Come to think of it, Katara also had her moments of intensity."

Mai couldn't help but chuckle. "Your teachers were all nuts," she concluded.

Aang made a face, then laughed. "Alright, you got me."

"I heard my name," Katara called out from across the garden, the tone flat. "You better not be saying anything rude."

"See?" Mai replied.

Aang giggled into his tea.

Out of nowhere, Tyana suddenly threw her arms over Aang's shoulders. "Dad," she said, "I'm bored. Take me flying."

Katara appeared behind her with a sour look on her face. "Yes, because apparently trying to waterbend with her mother is far too boring for her," she snapped.

Aang rolled his head back and looked at his wife from this new vantage. "I don't think she means it that way," he offered.

"Besides, I'm not a waterbender," Tyana added, "I'm nine. Nothing's come up. The end."

"It most certainly is not the end," Katara protested, but Aang was already getting to his feet and pulling Tyana up and onto his shoulders. "Oh, come on, Aang, we're visiting!"

Aang smiled over his shoulder, his glider opening with a faint whoosh. "I'll be back; promise!" Tyana grinned, held on tight, then shrieked as Aang jumped into the air and glided away.

Mai and Katara looked at each other calmly. Katara sighed, sat down, and took a sip of Aang's tea, shortly after making a face (his tea was far too sweet for her tastes.

Mai smiled. "So," she said, her voice teasing. "When do you think you'll have another kid?"

Katara's face was deadly, but Mai couldn't help but snicker at it.