Zuko paced the same path from the desk to the door for the hundredth time. Tonight, it'll be tonight, he thought for the thousandth time. Katara had been so patient, so good to him. In truth, better than anyone had ever been to him. So why wasn't he ready for her?

"What is wrong with me?" Zuko muttered, slamming his fists on the wooden desk, leaving scorch marks. Luckily its last owner had been prone to temper issues as well. He gave me more than this scar… Zuko had always known there was a darkness within him, festering because of how Ozai had treated him. But what if it was more basic than that? What if this was simply how he was?

Zuko shook his head to clear it. There was no sense in fretting over the old man. He was gone now, and good riddance. All Zuko needed to be concerned with was Katara. His sweet Katara, feisty Katara, willing to go all the way Katara. Damaged Katara, mirror image of himself Katara. What on earth was he waiting for?

He thought again about the excitement from a week ago. It had felt so right… No wonder people did not remain virgins long. The alternative was so much better. And if her sweet lips felt nearly as good as they had tasted… Zuko's fists tightened as he felt the heat rising in him, and in him. Every night since that one he had sought Katara's comfort, and she had given it. Most often she took more than she gave, but Zuko liked that side of her. For so many years she had seen that powerful girl hiding behind a mask of serenity. He loved seeing her bestial side, the hunger that consumed her. He had spent his life surrounded either by people too meek to oppose him or those who saw him as filth. Katara's acceptance of him was a breath of fresh air in his stagnant life.

So why hadn't he let her accept all of him?

Zuko shook his head. Again. He promised himself tonight he would let her. Again. As he turned to leave the Fire Lord's command chamber for the day and make the short walk to his room, he tried to settle his stomach. Again.

When he reached the heavy bronze doors, he hesitated. He took several deep breaths, willing his heart to calm, running through the motions of yesterday's martial arts lesson in his mind. He saw himself flowing through the poses, like liquid fire, arms and legs jutting out to spouts of flame, his heart rate elevated, but controlled. He tried to remember what that had felt like, tried to emulate it, but failed. With a sigh, he pushed open the doors.

She was waiting for him, as he knew she would. And just like every night since the first, her beauty left him speechless. The second night it had been obvious Katara thought Zuko was almost ready; she had waited in little more than a slip of cloth, with candles lit like the night before, legs spread invitingly. When Zuko had dipped his head between her legs, he felt she might be disappointed, even though her moans said otherwise.

As the nights passed Katara waited less and less provocatively. Last night she had still been fully clothed, reading an old scroll by candelabra. She had slipped out of the robes readily enough, but her casual acceptance of his being unready only made him angry. He had been so close last night… But in the end they had nestled into the sheets, hands and lips drawing flame from each other. As they lay abed afterwards, Zuko had considered waking her and finally having done with it, but his courage quickly failed him and he slipped into uneasy sleep, the rising and falling of Katara's breasts against his back lulling him into slumber.

He was taken aback, then, by a fully naked Katara waiting just inside the door. Zuko quickly glanced behind him, making sure no one was in the hall, when Katara roughly grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside, quickly slamming the doors. Her eyes glistened as she turned back to him, hunger clear in them, but also patient loving care.

"When you are ready, I will help you, Zuzu. Until then, I'm going to be ready." She stepped back, a slight flush in her cheeks. "So… If you don't like this, I'm sorry, but I need things too." She looked down, then back up, shyly. And he knew.

Zuko just shook his head. He reached out and took her hands in his, pulled one to his scar, holding it to his face. "Everything I am is yours, Katara. I burn for you." He took a deep breath, and realized his hands were shaking. "And I'm ready."

The apprehension in Katara's eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a single tear (of joy, Zuko hoped), and her hands tightened on his, steadying the shaking. She threw her arms around him, a choked sob escaping her throat. When she pulled away, she nodded, wiping a tear from her face. "Then so am I."

Zuko tried to control his breathing as Katara slowly, slowly removed his clothes. First she untied his belt, opening his tunic and kissing his warm chest, leaving her lips tingling. When the shirt fell from his shoulders she folded it and carefully laid it by the foot of the bed. When she stood Zuko saw her hands shaking. He gripped them in his own, his eyes searching hers, questioning without words.

Katara blinked away a tear and gave a sad smile. "I just want so badly for this to be perfect for you." Of course then Zuko's eyes misted. Stupid, stupid…

"It already is," he managed to choke. Katara smiled then, more genuinely, and unlaced his stockings with steadier hands. Zuko's breathing grew shallow until Katara gently took him in hand, stroking with the lightest touch of her fingertips, soothing his heart, and drawing out the beast within.

She slowly lowered herself onto the spacious bed, pulling him gently down with her until he knelt between her legs and she reclined, steadying herself for what was to come with deep breaths. Suddenly Zuko's courage left him. He knelt there, staring at his hands, face growing red, before Katara pushed herself up onto her elbows. Then her hand was on the scarred side of his face, gently, lovingly luring him on top.

When he looked into her eyes she took a hand in hers and pressed it to her hip, eyes closing for a moment at the sudden heat. Zuko followed suit with his other hand, and Katara's hand dropped from his face. His thumbs rubbed her bare skin, rosy spots growing from the heat. Katara's other hand joined her first, and then her hair loopies had Zuko's full attention. The small blue beads that held them in place, the haphazard way they hung, one off her face, the other plastered with sweat to her cheek. Zuko gently shook his head and refocused on her hands, that tug and pull, on the rise and fall of her chest, her half closed eyes, the fire in them slowly growing, more and more matching his own.

Eventually – a minute, an hour, a day later – Zuko was ready in the flesh. Katara draped an arm around Zuko's neck and pulled him down with her, pressing his lips to her throat. He kissed her, trying to focus on her supple skin as Katara positioned his hips. And now he could feel the tension within her. This patience, the loving caution, this was for him. Katara's hunger was fully apparent now, as her hips wiggled slowly, desperately, trying to get that extra inch lower.

Zuko took a deep breath and kissed her lightly on the chin. His breath was sucked in suddenly as he felt her whole body stiffen, then settle just a little lower. He kissed her on the lips and she shuddered, time halting like the silence between heart beats.

Zuko saw the strain on Katara's face as she waited, hidden behind a thin smile and fiery eyes. He breathed slowly and inched his body up, savoring each motion and silent noise they made. Finally, the motionless crawl and the frozen moment ended, and their eyes met. They lay there, not daring to breathe, until Katara broke the peace, moaning and squeezing her thighs. Sensation erupted for both of them, and her lips sealed themselves to his, sucking and biting, tongue flirting with his. His back spasmed, and when he did Katara suddenly broke off the kiss, instead moaning. Zuko never heard so sweet a sound.

It didn't last as long as Zuko had hoped it would, but Katara didn't seem disappointed. After a minute or two of growing intensity he felt himself slipping, losing control. He began to pull back, scared of the wild, pure lust coursing through him, but Katara placed her hands on either side of his head, forcing him to look into her eyes, and as gentle calm settled over the raging storm in his mind, it was over. Katara gazed deep into him as he finished, her hunger apparent but overshadowed by a caring that bordered on love.

When he was done he shuddered and collapsed into her arms. His entire body was a fuzzy confused sparking of exhaustion and pleasure. Her chest heaved as she steadied her breathing, a hand absently stroking his thick hair while the other rubbed his back. He thought he heard her whisper something, but by that time he was already irrevocably on his way to sleep.