A/N: (tags)

katara is unhappy, zuko isn't helping, strained marriage, basically lots of cameos from atla cast, zutara is endgame, happy ending but the middle might be tough, poor communication at first,


stormy weather makes for rocky waves

a zutara fic


Early morning light glowed against the kitchen cabinets. Katara left the lights off as she prepared for work and the filtering glow painted stripes across the tiles and countertop. The smell of fresh coffee hung heavy in the still kitchen air. She was too busy pouring herself a mugful to bother with the lights. She glugged some creamer into her coffee before replacing it in the sparse fridge.

Their kitchen was small. There was a window and a little round table in front of it. The countertop, its cabinets, and the stove were tucked into the corner of the kitchen with a sink. She'd gotten used to the restricted space quickly after moving in.

Instead of being cramped, the kitchen was comfortingly intimate. She could lean her body against the countertop and watch the drifting clouds while she sipped at her coffee in the mornings. It was like her little prework ritual.

She'd stare out at the crumbling cityscape and dream.

Today she needed the prework ritual more than usual. The sky looked like it was promising rain. Her tired eyes peered out from under her tousled bed hair. It was loose and falling down into her face, covering the bags under her dark eyes, and the long yawn she stretched a hand over her mouth to hide.

Morning was not her favorite time of day, nor had she gotten enough sleep to make this morning bearable. She covered another yawn and rested her forearms down on the countertop, pressing her forehead into the cool grey laminate. Somewhere in the apartment, she heard her husband knocking around. Who knew what he was doing to make so much noise so early.

Katara had not slept well at all last night. She had lain awake watching the city lights flicker across the walls, watching the soft colors of headlights zoom over the bare ceiling. Thoughts swam round and round in the pool of her mind creating swirling knots of unhappiness. The more she struggled against her unrest, the more the thoughts tangled together into a messy ball.

Sokka. Azula. Siblings. Family.

These words were only a few of the ones spinning faster and faster through her mind. Even in the light of morning, the racing irritation would not calm. Katara pressed her forehead harder into the countertop. She dug her nails into the sides of her temples and tried to regulate her breathing. Not even the cool laminate could cool the irritation building.

Family... Zuko.

After a pause in the shuffling and knocking about from their room, the kitchen door creaked open and Zuko stepped in. She straightened, letting her hands fall to the counter. He traded yawns with her and she tried for a halfhearted grimace.

Zuko was tall and thin but he wasn't scrawny. One of the unfortunate parts of his uniform was the way it made him resemble a college student instead of the twenty-nine and a half year-old man he was. His top was a pale sage green v-neck with short sleeves. The sleeve length wasn't optimal but what really turned her off were the too-large black dress slacks he wore.

The smile she gave him this time was genuine but dry. He ruffled his dark fringe and blew a kiss as he walked to the mini-fridge and bent to pull out the egg carton. Their knees brushed as he straightened to reach for a pan above her head.

Katara stiffened at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and set about cooking himself breakfast. Since she had eaten already, she pulled a tuppaware container down and scooped some leftover rice from the still-warm rice cooker into it. She slid it to her husband. Catching it, he ladled the scrambled eggs in.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Have a good day at work." He gave her a peck on the cheek on his way to the door. As he slipped his shoes and jacket on, she packed the tuppaware in a carrying bag.

"Have fun serving people tea!" She handed it to him. Her words rang hollow and cheerless despite her best efforts.

He raised his eyebrows as he exited.

The front door clicked shut and she was alone in the kitchen again.

Ghosting her fingers over the place on her cheek where he had kissed her, Katara let out a long sigh. She had better go and tame her hair before she was late.


As rain dribbled down from the overcast sky, the water from above darkened the grey sidewalk. Splotchy, sporadic patches appeared everywhere the water touched.

She clutched at her steaming cup of coffee, holding it close to her chest. The other hand clutched her business jacket up to her throat. It was cold and wet and she was regretting stepping out of the house without a real coat. Bouncing against her hip, the heavy briefcase swayed with each step. At the same time, the briefcase was out of rhythm with her walk. Her coffee sloshed inside of its thin paper cup as she hurried along the walkway.

Slosh-thump-step. Slosh-thump-step. Thump-slosh-step. Uneven steps caused by the bouncing briefcase forced her to hobble along, rain soaking her pant legs.

The rain was all around her. It was in her hair, dripping into her eyes, sliding down the back of her exposed neck! A stark smell of wet grass tumbled with the strongly bitter coffee by her nose. Each step brought her closer to her building, but each step caused the briefcase to bounce into her side.

More distracting than even the jostling carry-on at her hip was the dripping, drizzling rain. It pooled in the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks like phantom tears. She couldn't blink the water away fast enough.

She was walking. She was trudging on. All of a sudden something about the smell of a rain-soaked world clicked in her mind. Time and reality fell away to reveal a memory. Old sensation unlike anything in the present took hold of her and she remembered.

Katara was no longer hurrying to work but cheerfully meandering home in a rainstorm. There was a boy next to her and they were chatting. He was barely making a fuss, letting her carry the conversation. Her fifteen-year-old voice had a high quality and a bounce to it.

...

"I like the rain, it makes me feel content."

He had shivered, clutching at his arms and staring at her from under his dripping mop of bangs. "I don't."

She flipped her own dripping braid over a shoulder, "I can tell."

Smirking, he looked away.

"I like when it rains just at the end of summer when it's almost fall. Because it's warm then. Perfect warm, you know? Because it smells a lot like leaves when they just start to dry. But also like rain."

His reply was instant. "Rain is cold. And your explanation was the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Katara took a defensive stance, hands propping on her soaked school-uniform hips. She frowned at him. It was just barely a glare.

Tongue sticking out between his teeth, he smirked wider and adjusted his baseball cap, "You know, you look sexy all wet like that."

She blushed so hard she could feel her face heating up. "You're an idiot Jet!"

"I'm older."

"By like two years!"

"That's the difference between college and high school."

"One year is the difference between college and high school!"

"Exactly."

"You're an idiot Jet."

He reached forward and grabbed her hand, holding it gently between his two larger ones. "You make me crazy."

She stared in giddy confusion at his glittering eyes. Then her eyes trailed down to his wet slick neck exposed in the downpour. Biting her lip and looking him once up and down, she met his blazing eyes. " Apparently."

And all of a sudden they were kissing.

But it was odd and new.

Their wet clothes rubbed at her skin in an unpleasant way and the rain on his nose was rolling down into the curve of her cheek. But his mouth was really hot and his arms were winding their way around her neck and lower back. His palms were sliding up and down her back, up under her shirt to the bare clammy skin underneath. She could hardly breathe because this was all so indescribably marvelous.

Despite the exhilaration it was causing to rush through her veins, she pulled away. It was too good to be true, maybe even too good to keep up. It was so new and nice.

And right.

Eyes half-closed she flushed deeply and shivered. She gazed up at him in renewed infatuation. After that lip-locking, her mouth wasn't working for anything else. She tried to form words, but they were lost on her numb tongue.

Jet smiled down at her, his teeth pointy and cheeks impish. The gleam in his eyes was mischievous. "You know, Katara, on second thought- I could get used to rain."

...

Katara realized that she was standing in the middle of the walkway and several passersby were glancing up at her from their various diversions. The half embarrassment, half residual-attraction of that memory had bled through to the present. Suddenly the world wasn't so grey. Suddenly it was tinted fifteen year-old 'infatuated'.

She had not thought of that day in a long time.

Or of the man- no, of the boy. She hadn't thought of Jet in a long time. All at once, all of her old feelings had rushed back with the blood in her face.

That boy had known how to kiss. Even looking back on it thirteen years later. With a rush of embarrassment, she realized that people were still looking around at her as they passed. How long had she been standing there like an idiot?

Glancing at her watch, she blanched. At this rate- "I'm going to be late!"


Slipping into her shared cubicle, Katara scrambled onto the rolling chair like a kid desperate to reach home base. Quickly, she unlatched the decorative buckle on her briefcase and rifled through for a hefty stack of stapled papers. She turned to her desktop PC and tapped in her password like lightning, without even looking. The loading dots popped up. They spun in their circle respectively.

Finally taking a breath, she brushed the tumbling loose hairs off of her forehead.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale.

The office had a clean and freshly aerosol-disinfectant smell to it. There was also an underlying heavily-applied-deodorant accent. The light beige carpet was freshly vacuumed. Ah, Mondays. As she slumped, the rolling chair slide with her.

Across from her, a pleasant alto voice with a hint of playful sarcasm said, "Not quite late?"

"Not... exactly."

"Good. Because let me just say that you-know-who is not in a great mood this morning. At all."

The two women exchanged a knowing look.

Suki had neat short hair and perfect, perpetually raised eyebrows. She sat back straight with fingers poised above her keyboard. Sticky notes had been plastered to the front of her computer screen in strategic, organized columns. An empty coffee mug was balanced on top of the towering stack of manilla folders.

"Is he that cranky?" Katara asked.

"Is the sky blue?"

"Most of the time…"

"Well, he's on the prowl this morning girl. You'd think we have a spy in the building the way he's monitoring everyone! Can't I just get my work done without feeling like a criminal for existing?" Of course, Suki wasn't asking for a response, she was just annoyed.

Katara sighed and smoothed her disheveled hair back. The ponytail had been useless thus far this morning. Closing her eyes, she tried to reorder her thoughts. That's right, they had a 3:00pm staff meeting on proper use of company power and paper. She glanced past her screen saver to the current spreadsheet she was working in. Clicking into it, she scrolled down through the info.

Something was off. She couldn't focus on what she was staring at. As she tucked more falling hair out of her face, a damp curl brushed her neck and she shivered. It felt almost like… It felt like… Jet used to stroke her neck or place kisses just below her jaw, under her ears, across her shoulders- Katara's face burned.

"Somebody looks happy, who happened to you?"

"No one happened to me Suki." Deliberately, she fixed her eyes on the screen. She took a deep breath to ground herself in the here and now.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm certain."

"Nothing exciting in the bedroom last night?"

Katara fixed her with a dark look and the older woman backed up chuckling.

"Sorry! I'm just curious."

Katara waved her apology away, only she couldn't shake the memory of fingers scatting across her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut wishing that she could bury her face in her hands. Why couldn't she stop blushing!

There was a sharp intake of breath by her side. "No kidding."

Katara frowned, "What?"

"You're hiding something."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are Katara."

Katara fixed her with a sheepish frown, "I'm very sure that I am not hiding something, alright?" But she faltered, her gaze locking on Suki's long manicured nails. Jet had always had long nails too.

He used to drag them along her arms and trace her breasts- oh! this was ridiculous. This was plain stupid. She wanted to blame the shivers completely on her still-damp slacks and suit jacket.

"Would an innocent person be denying it so hard?"

"Would an innocent person have an answer to that?"

"Yes!"

Katara hesitated. She weighed how much she wanted to talk about it against how nosy Suki was.

"Alright, you want to know?"

"Of course I do."

"Nothing. Nothing at all happened. I just remembered an old ex is all. I… remembered a kiss. That's it."

Suki was visibly disappointed. She flicked her nails against her computer monitor and tapped at her keyboard. "Oh."

That had been a short convo. Thank heavens. Katara doubted more thought would improve the situation.

"But! It must have been a juicy memory… to have you all red like that."

"Does it count as... if I'm just remembering? Surely there's nothing wrong with remembering. Right?"

"Ask hubby."

Katara sighed, tugging on some damp hair.

Satisfied, Suki only smiled knowingly and swiveled her chair back to facing her glowing monitor. "You bet it counts."

"How! I haven't even thought about him in years, let alone seen him."

"Men can sense it when you're even thinking about someone else. For instance," tapping the pen in her hand against the table, "last Thursday I was going through a box of old gear and I picked out that blue uniform? The one with the two or three sponsors on the back? And I was looking at it for a while because I couldn't think what it reminded me of. Lukas walks in and sees me holding this old faded shirt and just assumes I'm thinking of…" She trailed off, dropping the pen and looking to her monitor.

Katara blinked.

"Anyway, he saw me holding some dusty old shirt and just assumes I'm thinking about someone else. I didn't even say anything! He was mad the whole weekend."

"Sounds like a man in tune with his emotions."

Iris Zorita, the intern, had made her way over to their desks. She had a smooth face, dark eyes, and a natural beauty mark above her lip. Flattening a sheet of paper on Suki's stack of folders, she thumbed through the stack in her arms.

Suki grinned, peeling the single sheet up. "Let me tell you, he is!"

"I could really go for one of those…" Iris sounded wistful.

"Men who understand their emotions are the only kind worth tangling with."

"Totally!"

Katara blinked, glancing at the thick stack of stapled documents Iris was handing her. She grabbed them and nestled them in her To Be Filed cubby. "Are they that rare?"

"Yes." Suki said flatly.

Iris leaned forward, "I can promise you that I've never dated a man with even a speck of emotional maturity in his pinky!"

Katara would have answered but she was interrupted by an irritable man's voice.

"Excuse me, ladies."

The three young women turned to see Mark, the department manager, standing arms crossed next to them. He was tall and pale and his hair was the kind of blonde that resembled dust. Disapproval had no purer form than the look on his face. "Do I pay you to sit around and gossip?"

"No, Mark." They chorused.

"Then why do I see you all slacking off? Gossip should be reserved for breaks and any other time that is not-"

"Company time." The three of them chorused.

Though, "You don't pay us," Suki whispered under her breath.

Katara tried to keep a straight face, but the smile slid across her lips anyway.

Mark caught it. "The company doesn't pay you to act like children either."

"Yes, Mark." They chorused.

"And it's Johnson to all of you."

Emily from the desks behind them joined in for the last chorus. "Yes, Johnson!"

He squinted in disapproval but seemed to write it off as his imagination. "Good, and I'd better not hear any more talking from you. Not until that very important meeting I know both of you have looked over the packet for." His voice ended in a condescending pitch. Before he marched off to look for his next victims, he gave Iris a look.

Katara covered her mouth so only a muffled, "Are you sure you don't want him? It'd be a perfect match." could be heard.

Suki chucked a pencil. It bounced off the edge of Katara's desk and landed in the trash bin.


The meeting was long. And dry. And a waste of company time.

It was also, very uneventful. Katara was back at her desk and packing up about on time to leave for the train. If she hustled, she'd make it.

Unless… Suki flagged her down.

"Are you getting ready to leave?"

"Yes."

Suki crossed her arms, leaning her hip into the desk. "Well, before you go I just want to apologize. For saying negative things about your brother, all the time."

Katara absentmindedly wet her lips, "Hm?"

"It's just, I saw him yesterday. And, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him, and it's… they're not pleasant thoughts."

"Wait, Sokka? When did you say anything about Sokka?" Her confusion was partly from work, but she still didn't compute.

"Earlier."

"Earlier?"

"You know, nevermind. I just want you to know that nothing happened. If he says anything," She paused, looking annoyed, "If he says anything at all, remember it's your brother."

"Wait, Sokka is in town? When did he get here!"

"You didn't know?"

"No."

"Oh, he stopped in to say hi and I just… I just- I didn't ask him to and he didn't ask me either. And he knows how things are with Lukas."

"I'm sorry, my brother can be such an idiot most of the time."

"I know better than anyone Katara."

"True."

"Well, I'll let you go." Suki smiled mischievously, "Just keep those thoughts in check girl."

Katara sighed, "Yes. Keep the thoughts in check." She waved half-heartedly and headed for the glass door.


Katara stepped off of the metro onto grey concrete. Before long she was outside and the rainy sky from that morning had faded to simply overcast. She checked her phone: 5:27pm. Time to be home and away from the dull work crowd.

She was stepping quickly, moving through people to the emptier streets, making good time. She didn't live very far from the metro, but the crowds were hectic up until 7:00pm.

Although she was moving quickly, something just wasn't right. Her head felt light and her body, heavy. Katara had passed almost everyone. The street was empty except for a random pigeon pecking at the ground. She slowed to a walk and from that to a stop. Her chest hurt. Each breath was a sharp twinging sensation.

Crouching down to catch her breath, Katara tried to regulate her air. This wasn't at all normal. She didn't- and that's when she realized that this wasn't a real pain. Not exactly real… Her heart was hurting.

Jet had been absent from her mind for the majority of the afternoon but the pain had brought the feel of his lips rushing back. Could the pain have been his absence from her mind? His lips, warm and soft and special- in fact, he had been her first kiss.

That was right!

She hadn't thought of it in years and years but that kiss in the rain, as absurd as it seemed now, had been her first. He had been her first for a lot of things.

He had also been the first to break her heart.

Katara swallowed and stood up quickly.

This wasn't the time to be doing this. She was going to be late for dinner and Zuko hated when she was late. With a quick sniffle and a brush of her knees, she clutched her briefcase to her side and hurried on.


When she arrived at the apartment door she set her case on the floor and rummaged through her purse for the keys.

Once inside, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh of relief.

How nice to be home.

It was almost dark in the room, but empty. The natural light from the window had faded to a soft orange and it glowed off of the fridge, casting speckles of silver across the floor. Their house smelled of dish soap and the cool clean of freshly washed sheets. Katara took in a deep breath of home and felt some of the tension in her body evaporate.

She unbuttoned her suit jacket and slipped it off to drape on the little table. In just her button-up, dress slacks, and ankle socks, Katara began getting dinner ready. She measured out the rice and rinsed it, washed it, filled the metal bowl to her knuckle with water. She fit the metal bowl into the cooker and clicked the lid shut, pressing the cook button.

"What else…" She muttered aloud. "What… do we have in the fridge? Please tell me he remembered to go shopping-"

With a little pop of the fridge seal, she saw to her relief that he had gone to pick up vegetables. Maybe on his lunch break because there hadn't been any at breakfast.

She pulled out the bunch of bok choy, a bundle of scallions, and a bit of chicken. It wasn't difficult to keep busy while chopping things and the minutes passed quickly. The light faded from the reddening sky slowly and as time passed, the kitchen grew darker and darker. She hardly noticed.

Despite her best efforts, the thoughts playing through her mind were of teen Jet's lips and wandering hands. She flushed a bit, glugging a bit of cooking oil into the pan. His fingers were twisting in the elastic band of her bra. Shocking really, his touch was electric even in memory.

"Hey, it smells amazing in here." The calm delight in her husband's voice brought her out of her reverie.

He was stepping through the door into the dim kitchen, flicking the light switch on as he did.

Squinting at him through the sudden bright white light, Katara frowned. He either didn't notice or didn't want to step on her toes. With the bright artificial light, the room looked a tad less comfy and a tad more clean. The laminate countertop and pale walls appeared colder in tinge.

He set his breakfast bag down next to the table and yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

The sudden urge to jab him in the armpit as his arms raised slipped into her head. She felt tempted. Oh so tempted.

Playing the scenario through her head, she dumped the greenish baby bok choy into the pan. In her mind's eye, he was yelping and laughing and pulling away from her as his arms snapped down protectively. She advanced in the daydream, fingers pinching his exposed skin and then they were hugging. And… it was nice.

He raised his eyebrows at her, walking over to the fridge. "Yes?"

"Hm?"

"You're smiling."

Oh. She was.

Zuko pulled out the bottle of light soy sauce and handed it to her. "You forgot the garlic."

Her smile was gone. Through pursed lips, "Did I?"

"I… no. Sorry."

She shrugged, stirring the bok choy with a wooden spoon and laying a lid over the pan.

Placing the bottle down on the counter next to her, picking at his wrist, he chewed on his lip. She didn't ask what was on his mind. Instead, she turned the stove burner down. He startled, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry. Just distracted. I completely forgot!" He leaned in, brushing the hair from her eyes, "How was your day."

"Long and boring meeting was, you guessed it. Both long and boring."

He nodded, gave her a quick peck on the mouth. His arm wrapped around her side, pulling her close for a second. At the same moment, the rice cooker in the corner starting beeping. His arm loosened.

"I'm going to go and get changed, do you need help with dinner?"

"No." And on second thought, "Thank you though."


Dinner was… quiet.

They sat in mostly silence as he read his book and she scrolled through her phone. As he adjusted the chopsticks in his right hand, Zuko fumbled to turn a page. They continued on in silence. She wasn't really looking at her facebook feed. Her mind was far away, nestled comfortably in a rainy memory. She still scrolled, finger flicking across the screen absentmindedly, but her eyes were unfocused.

Looking up from his book, he cleared his throat.

She met his eyes.

"Thank you for cooking dinner. It was really really good."

"You're welcome."

They were silent again.

"Thank you for stopping by the asian market during your lunch break. It was thoughtful."

"You're welcome."

They finished eating without exchanging any more words.

After dinner, they separated to do their own things. She had a few accounts to look over, a meeting agenda to organize too. Zuko gave her a kiss on the forehead, squeezing her hand as he passed the kitchen table. He went to read his book. Or something.

She hadn't really been paying attention to what he'd been saying.

The hours before bed passed quickly as she fussed over the numbers on a particularly difficult sheet.

Even if she didn't admit it to herself, Katara was dreading bed just a bit. The closer it drew, the less she could concentrate on the numbers in front of her eyes. Calling it a lost cause, she made a final mark with her pen.

She packed everything back up for the morning, slipping pages back into their folders.


He was sitting on the bed with the book propped against his knees when she entered. He glanced up, setting the book down and crossing his arms. He looked so casual just sitting there in his loose sweat pants and long sleeve shirt.

Their bedroom was about the same size as the kitchen. It had a little closet on one wall, and an equally small bathroom on the other. The walls had been painted a dull eggshell white when she had moved in. With permission, of course from their landlord, they'd agreed to paint over the eggshell. Now the walls were a warm shade of tan. Their bed was in the middle of the room. It had two sets of pillows with mismatching pillowcases plus a dark bulky blanket. Behind the bed was a small window. Currently, the shades were drawn shut.

Patting the covers beside him, Zuko gave her a warm smile. He flipped some hair from his eyes and looked at her hopefully.

Dread trickled to the base of her skull. It pooled just at the back of her neck, numbing her throat. There was something so... she just... Katara hated touching him when they weren't speaking.

She hated the lies.

Zuko always sensed her displeasure and the reluctance in her stiff body. Even if he always choose not to ask why she was frustrated with him, because he usually knew it was himself she was displeased with, he knew. He had a knack for gauging her mood, her thoughts. He seemed to think that time would heal any wound. If they just gave it enough time, anything wrong would just work itself out.

She loathed that. Why couldn't he understand that this wasn't going to go away until they dealt with it! How could he keep pretending when it just wasn't getting any better?

She felt her eyebrows knitting together and her face heating with the anger starting to simmer in her chest.

His own body language spoke of comfort. As irritable as she felt standing before him, it was nice to see his usual slouch after so long. At least... Katara was thankful that he avoided arguments. Most of the time at least. Sokka chased every disagreement. He wouldn't let anger sit like this, would never allow for it to grow unchecked. He'd badger and accuse and argue until they worked through whatever was bothering her.

Sudden loneliness swelled inside of Katara. It was cold. Her eyes burned and she blinked repeatedly. She missed her brother more than she could even comprehend.

Zuko chewed on his lips, frowning at her from his slouch on the plushy covers. She moved the book from where he had set it and climbed beside him, leaning into his body.

"Sorry."

"Hm?"

As though he'd been waiting for her to accept his beckoning, Zuko sighed softly with relief. He tried to camouflage the sigh with a little breathy breath but she wasn't fooled.

His hand smoothed up the side of her blouse and came to rest just below her left breast. The gesture was casual and familiar. At the same time, it was a tiny bit hesitant. His fingers on her ribs were a tiny question. She blanched, brows knitting further together.

"I'm tired… not tonight?"

He hid his disappointment well, crossing his arms across her chest and resting his cheek on top of her dark curls. His body was warm and his chest flush with her back. They sat there for a long time as he hummed to himself, body relaxed against hers. His breathing had softened to a whisper as his chest rose and fell.

Katara twisted in his embrace.

She looked at him, studying his long dark lashes as they fluttered against his angular cheeks. Her eyes, just like always, landed on the large blooming scar over the left side of his face. It was a reminder of the cruel hand of fate. The hand of his dad. She'd chosen from early on in their relationship not to pry. She only knew vague details despite having known Zuko for the past nine years. Despite being married to him.

They were coming up on their six-year anniversary, actually.

The clock on the bedside table read half-past nine.

She prodded him in the side and he caught his breath, startling awake.

"Wha-"

"Time for bed."

"Hmm…" He yawned widely, squeezing his eyes shut. "Ah, alright."

He untangled his arms from around her and stood up to walk to the bathroom. She followed after him, not in any hurry to share the close confines of the bathroom. She leaned on the door frame, watching him. With another wide yawn, Zuko plucked his toothbrush up and screwed the cap off of the toothpaste tube with his free hand. The blob of tri-colored paste blooped onto the bristles of his toothbrush.

Crossing her arms, Katara pursed her lips. She frowned, opened her mouth, then closed it. The things on her mind could wait. They could always wait.

She crossed back across the room to the closet and began unbuttoning her dress shirt. She shrugged it off and opened the closet to toss it into the hamper. She wriggled out of her dark slacks, throwing those into the hamper too.

As she undressed, the words she wanted to say swelled on her tongue. They were not kind words. They held anger and sharp lashes and spitting blame. She grit her teeth. But something else was there tonight. Something was laying low in her belly with the simmering irritation. Thoughts of Jet and the niceness of the kisses and his touch were pushing her words up. Instead of ignoring her frustration like every night, Katara needed to speak.

She marched back to the bathroom in just her mismatched underwear and bra.

"Your family doesn't like me Zuko."

He jabbed himself in the mouth and yelped in pain. "Ow!" His eye jumped to hers. "They don't like me either Kat. It's not anything new… We've always been different when it comes to family." He was tense now, gripping his toothbrush too tightly.

She walked into the bathroom to stand beside him. Snatching up her own toothbrush, she glowered. "I just wish that we could be close to your family too. Sokka only calls, and Dad lives far away. My friends are busy. I just wish…"

"Do you actually want to spend time with Azula?" He sounded exasperated.

She couldn't answer.

Rubbing his face, Zuko put the toothbrush down. "I don't want to see her. You… don't want to see her either." His eyebrows knit together, "Do you?"

Katara looked away, she couldn't meet his eyes let alone answer.

"DO you want to spend time with Azula? Can you think about it and get back with me?"

"...I mean… Sure." She let out a quick sigh and dropped her toothbrush in the glass cup, exiting the bathroom before he could catch her eyes.

Katara walked to the closet and pulled the doors open. She pulled out a crumpled long sleeve shirt and her baggy pj pants. She slipped the shirt over her bra and put the pants on. Without ceremony she plugged her phone in, flipped the Monday alarm on, and climbed into bed. The blanket was over her head and the pillow in the crease of her elbow, her lids shut tight.

From across the room in the bathroom there was silence. After a pregnant minute that felt an eternity, the scritch scritch of Zuko's toothbrush on his teeth resumed. He finished up, gargled a bit and ran the faucet as he spit. There was the clink of his toothbrush in the cup. Then the bathroom light clicked off. After some rustling in the closet and the door tacking shut, the bed shifted. The sheets crinkled and shiffed and there he was next to her.

His body heat radiated through the fluffy cover but she steeled herself and stayed turned away. Katara's fingers itched to reach for his but she swallowed and kept still. He shifted and adjusted his pillow.

Silence crept by.

"Kat?"

She held her breath.

He didn't call again.

At some point, he got out of bed and turned the overhead light out. Minutes dragged by in the dark and his breathing leveled out.


A/N:

sooooooooo if you want to, you can count this as a kind of continuation of the canon of my fic rain makes the best coffee creamer. but you absolutely don't have to.

anyway, thanks for reading this you phenomenally fabulous person! love ya.