Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sokka hesitates, before entering the tea shop. He’d die before admitting that to anyone, but he can't quite manage to go in on the first try. He hesitates, breathes in the bracing, dirty urban air. Republic City races around him, a city on a powder keg.

Another deep breath. One more, for posterity.

He gathers his wits about him, shoves the door open. The little bell jangles cheerily, alerting everyone in the quaint little shop to his arrival. Qi Hao’s Tea is half full, as it always is, which is why he and Suki had picked it.

Sokka can’t help himself, as soon as he walks onto the place his eyes cheat left and find Suki. It's a mistake, he should’ve spent more time looking around to find his date, instead of looking where he’d know she’d be. But a small enough mistake that no one will notice.

He’s raking himself over the coals anyway as he approaches her table. “Hey,” she says, voice easy, but her eyes are gently reproachful, soothing all the same.

"Hey," he says back with a half smile and a shrug. What's done is done, he can't go back and fix it.

Suki nods approvingly. "Look alive," She murmurs from her seat. "I have eyes on the target. On your six."

Sokka's heart races with excitement, but he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. He carefully takes off his large overcoat, placing it on the low chair opposite her.

Still not turning around, Sokka takes a step towards Suki, leans down to give her a hug. "How you doing undercover, Wang Fire?" she says under her breath, and when she leans back she's wearing a smirk.

"My name is not Wang Fire," Sokka says haughty, fixing his red jacket over his shoulders. Although most people tend to shed their nation's identifying colors as soon as their feet hit urban ground, old habits die hard, and patriotism dies harder. Here in the Fire Nation's sector a smattering of reds and blacks mark the customers populating the chairs and tables around them.

Patriotism dies harder, but there are plenty of Earth Kingdom greens and even a few Water Tribe blues at the tables and couches of the shop. Good tea overcomes all barriers.

Sokka tugs at the collar of his black shirt, does not look longingly at the familiar tunics of the Water Tribe. Fire Nation colors sit strange on Sokka's body, on his conscience, but he forces the discomfort out of his mind. It's for the mission, he reminds himself with excitement. He's got a role to play.

Sokka turns, pretending to search for a menu around the cozy, low-lit space. He lets his eyes catch on the pale, plain-faced girl with a bun on each side of her head and bangs hanging over her eyes, sitting alone at a table near the door. Sokka and Suki had known she'd be here, they’d spent ages watching her every move and memorizing her schedule. When they'd realized she came here at least once or twice a week, they decided it was as good a place as any to make first contact. The constant low hum of customers is a plus, empty enough that Suki will be able to keep ears and eyes on him from anywhere in the shop, full enough so that they won’t be noticed.

He notices her but makes his eyes slide past her, to the menu penciled neatly on the wall. Pretending to inspect it, Sokka counts to twenty in his head. Then he shucks his second outer layer, a thin jacket, and lets his eyes take in the tea shop. He looks over the girl again, does an obvious double take. Turns on the charm. Schools his face into appreciative interest. She looks up, then quickly looks down again, smiling shyly.

Mentally, Sokka pumps his fist in the air. Step one of engagement, check.

Turning back to Suki, he drapes his jacket over the back of a chair, sits down.

Across the table, Suki’s got an eyebrow raised. “Nicely done,” she whispers, leaning close to him once he’s settled. She draws her rust-colored jacket up over her shoulders. Suki's wearing browns and dull purples, a look that doesn’t belong to any one nation, but Sokka knows she’s prepared to pull either an earth kingdom or fire nation accent, depending on what the situation requires later on. His girlfriend looks beautiful in the low light of the afternoon sun, and Sokka’s annoyed he can’t tell her so.

“Thanks,” he says instead.

"Run through the plan again," Suki instructs, and Sokka rolls his eyes. “In a few minutes I’m going to spill a drink in front of her. Hopefully then I can introduce myself.”

Not that Sokka needs to. Akane Ito, daughter of grocers in the Fire Sector’s shopping district. Just signed a lease on an apartment a wall’s thickness away from a Fire Nation Intelligence Agency’s headquarters. Hopefully Sokka can semi-permanently install himself in her apartment, at least long enough to case the headquarters so he and Suki can break in later. Bring home some good intel for the Federation.

Suki nods. “Wait just two more minutes. Make sure you’re looking in her eyes when you—"

“I know how to flirt with girls, Suki!” Sokka says hotly. Suki chuckles at his expression. “I know, I know,” she says fondly, reaching up to straighten his collar. “You know I love watching you get comfy with the opposite sex. Go get ‘em.”

Sokka nods, picks up a couple of copper pieces from his coin purse, and makes his way to the counter. “Milk oolong, trip on the rug, start a conversation,” he chants in his head. “Milk oolong, trip on the rug, start a conversation.”

This plan is, of course, fucked out of his head the second he sees who's behind the tea shop’s counter.

“Lee?” he gasps, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. Lee? From Ba Sing Se? Is it really him? What is he doing here?

All of a sudden, Sokka leaves Republic City behind, finds himself dropped into half a year ago, on a solo trip to the Earth Kingdom. He has to check himself, stop his arm from running across his forehead to catch the sweat that's always dotted there. Sokka only knows Lee in the heat of an Earth Kingdom summer. He practically has to squint against the harsh sunlight from the memory, blinks furiously at the dust that always ran riot outside of the Jasmine Dragon Tea shop.

He'd met Lee in Ba Singh Se, on a research trip to work at the University. They hadn't spent that much time together, really only one night, but Sokka…

Well, Lee has prime real estate in Sokka's brain.

Lee jumps when Sokka says his name, and Sokka half wonders if he’s gotten it wrong, but no. His hair might be longer, but the scar running along the side of his face and blotting out an eye is unmistakable. What the hell is Lee doing in Republic City? And in the middle of Sokka's mission, no less?

“Lee! What are you doing here? Why did you leave Ba Singh Se?”

“Uh...I decided it was time to move on? See my family again?” Lee offers, scratching aimlessly at the apron over his chest. Sokka’s eyes are drawn to his hand, the hair that hangs in his eyes. He looks good, Sokka realizes with a jolt. A little thinner, but good.

“But I thought your dad—" Sokka stops when Lee flinches. Right. Lee hadn't told him much in that department, only that his Dad was terrible and he'd fled to live with his Uncle in the Earth Kingdom. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

“Sorry, do I...know you?” Sokka swallows hard. Doesn’t Lee remember? “Um, you obviously know me from when I worked...I mean, when I lived in Ba Singh Se, but I don’t…” Lee trails off awkwardly.

“Yeah, we, uh,” Sokka scritches at the back of his neck. He turns half around, forces himself to take a couple of deep breaths and slow the fuck down. Tries to get his act together. Does a slow sweep of the cafe to slow his heartbeat before he faces Lee again. “We met while I was staying there for a while.”

Lee doesn’t remember. The more logical part of Sokka’s brain tries to remind him that this is totally reasonable, he and Lee had gotten really, really drunk the night they met. But Sokka's sensitive heart is quaking a bit, he had thought...well, he had thought what he and Lee had was special.

"Okay." Lee's face is carefully blank. "I, uh, what's your name?"

Sokka opens his mouth, then closes it quickly. What should he say? In Ba Singh Se there hadn't been a reason to be anyone other than himself, he'd had a brief vacation and used the time to work with an engineering professor at Ba Singh Se University. He had first introduced himself to Lee as Sokka. But here he needs to be somebody else, here he's on a mission.

The mission. Shit.

He needs to get this mission back on track, but what should he say to Lee? Seeing him again has made Sokka's stomach act up in knots, he's not thinking clearly, he--

"Hey, Tun, you okay?" Suki steps up to the counter beside him, using their closeness as an opportunity to briefly slide her hip against his. She must sense his panic, must have seen the situation spiralling rapidly out of Sokka's control. Remember this mission. Remember your identity. Calm down.

Suki doesn't wait for him to answer, and Sokka's grateful for it. "Can I get a refill on this jasmine, please?" she asks, handing her empty cup to Lee behind the counter. Her interruption clears Sokka's head, just as she intended it to. She always seems to know what he needs.

He knocks his hip against hers again while Lee pours her tea. Thank you. I needed that. She smiles at him, ducking her head. "Thanks," she says, accepting the cup Lee before heading back to their table. Sokka turns back to Lee with renewed purpose. Although he wants to interrogate Lee, figure out what he's doing here (get him to remember that night), he shoves all that aside. He's here for a sting. He's here for the Southern Water Tribe, their intelligence operations. He's here for the Federation.

"My name is Tun," Sokka says easily.

The mission, teetering on its access, regains its balance. Sokka isn't Sokka. His name is Tun.

(Is this lying? Sort of. It isn't going easy down Sokka's throat, if that's any indication. But if Lee doesn't remember him anyway, what's the harm? It's just some guy he met and...and hung out with one time, he tells himself sternly, even as his heart protests. The mission has to come first.)

His name is Tun. He's here to meet his friend for tea and become starstruck by the beautiful woman sitting by the door, and hopefully get into her pants. Tun's a bit of a misogynist, a trait pulled from Sokka's pre-Suki days.

(When Suki had called him Tun, called him by his false name, she'd all but ensured Lee wouldn't remember him. Maybe if he tells Lee his real name, he'll remember. He… he wants to, he wants to share this memory with the other person in it, reveal himself to the man who's starred consistently in his daydreams when he feels prone to what-ifs, but he's not going to do it. He knows Suki's right. But he finds himself annoyed Suki's picked the choice from his hands.

Not that she knows anything about this, he realizes guiltily. It was from before they were together, and he chose to keep her in the dark.

He and Lee had only made out a little bit, he says in the privacy of his heart. It's fine. It's fine.

Sokka's a realist, but even he's prone to dreaming. What if he hadn't gotten called back to the Federation the day after he'd met Lee? What if he hadn't had to pull that mission? What if he'd stayed in Ba Singh Se, and they'd gotten to know each other, really gotten to know each other?

It's fine. He replays their kissing in his head at least once every two weeks, but it’s fine.)

"Can I get a cup of milk oolong, please?" Sokka adds. What's done is done. He feels sort of bad for rushing through his order, but he needs to get out of here. But Lee looks pleased that he isn't pushing for more information about their time in Ba Singh Se. "Sure thing," he says, turning around to get the tea. "I'm sorry I don't remember you," he says with his back to Sokka.

"No problem, man, I understand." I remember enough for the both of us, Sokka wants to say. I remember coming into your shop and seeing you and being utterly blown away, I remember how raspy your voice is, I remember that you can't hear on your left side, I--

One time, he reminds himself again. It was one time. You'll deal with this later.

Fuck, his stomach is knots. That had been too much too fast. Sokka needs a break, or a real drink. He takes the opportunity to lean his back against the counter, letting his gaze survey the tea shop. He rests on Akane Ito again, gives her a winning smile. She ducks her gaze again, but manages to smile back at him after a moment.

He accepts his tea from Lee, heart jumping in his chest. When Sokka turns back to Ito, she's still smiling. He can do this. He can do this.

This is going to be a piece of cake.

***

Zuko flattens his palms on the counter, tries to keep his breathing steady as he watches Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe artfully spill the full cup of tea right in front of where they'd placed Mai by the door. The man Mai and Zuko plan to double cross does the move pretty well. It definitely fooled the other people in the tea shop and would've fooled Zuko, had he not been trained to notice that sort of thing.

With shaking hands, he forces himself to get the mop from the storage closet, slowly walks over to Mai and the Water Tribe boy, where he's apologizing profusely for soaking the bottoms of her pants. In the back of his mind Zuko smiles dryly, thinking about how pissed Mai must be that she's had to sacrifice her best trousers to the poor planning of this bumbling idiot. Another loss taken for the Fire Nation Intelligence Agency, another sacrifice for the mission.

The mission. Zuko resolutely plods the sodden mop through the small puddle of tea and wonders just what the fuck is going on. He wants desperately to look at Mai, to see what her face is doing, but he won't be able to control his own if their eyes meet from this close. He and Mai have been planning this for months, carefully setting everything in place so they can present her as Akane Ito, an appealing target for the Federation. If this works, they'll control just what information the Federation is receiving about the Fire Nation Intelligence Agency, and distract them from the bigger fish they should be frying.

And now it's all gone and fucked because this guy happened to run into Zuko while he was with his Uncle, during what Azula likes to call his lost days.

If he were still in Uncle's tea shop, he would have to sit through Uncle's quiet grumblings over the waste of a good cup of tea that had ended up on the floor.

Zuko grits his teeth, tries to clean up the tea as quickly as possible. Thinking about Uncle under good circumstances would have been dangerous, and thinking about his time in Ba Singh Se now practically has him sliding towards a panic attack. How does this fucker know who he is? What did they do together in Ba Sing Se? What did Zuko tell him? Zuko inhales sharply, trying to keep it together. He doesn't want to think about this, he wants to finish the mission without any distractions, but he needs to remember what happened between him and Sokka, or else it will become a liability. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to delve into his memory without knocking on too many doors he keeps locked for a reason.

His father and Azula are right, he's always been so shit at going undercover. This mission is going to be totally fucked, and then they'll have his head on a pike. If only this were going as planned, and Zuko could stay quietly behind the counter, serving tea and puttering around and keeping an eye on things while Mai did the talking.

Three sharp raps on wood pull him out of his mind, and his grip tightens on the mop in his hands. Mai. He finishes cleaning up, walks quickly back to the counter so he can survey her table from a distance. She seems totally fine, smiling prettily at Sokka as he yaks on about something. The smile sits odd in Zuko's stomach, he almost recognizes it from when they first started dating. It's strange seeing it on her face from far away.

She raps her fist on the table again, her signal that she has the situation under control. He reads her lips, watches her introduce herself as Akane Ito. Her gaze remains on Sokka, but she does a small flicking motion with her wrist. He can go to the back of the shop, get out from under the imagined gaze of the customers. Have a panic attack in peace.

He doesn't waste any time; spares half a glance to make sure the little bell is placed in front of the cash box and absolutely legs into the storage closet. Zuko shoves open the little window inside and all but jumps through it, wriggling until he manages to get his shoulders out and then scaling the short wall onto the roof. He collapses there, sprawling out until his foot is hanging over the edge. Zuko presses himself against the harsh metal, ridges digging painfully into his back, closes his eyes and sends a sharp burst of fire streaming out of his mouth. He inhales harshly, does it again, mixing meditative breaths between spurts of flame until he's worked off his edge, calmed down enough to reassess.

He runs through the situation again, trying to keep it straight. He's been made… maybe? Sokka obviously recognized him from his few months in exile with his Uncle, but that doesn't mean he knows who he is here. Or maybe he does? He knew to ask about his father, Zuko must have told him something, but what? Did he tell him he was from the Fire Nation? The scar pretty much speaks for itself, it's hard to get an injury like his away from home, but maybe he told Sokka that it was a genuine accident and he believed him? Unless he thinks he got in Republic City? But he asked what Zuko was doing here, he must know he isn't part of the Fire Nation diaspora here.

Zuko sighs, repositioning his body with his good ear closer to the window so he can hear the bell sound if a customer needs him. He thunks his head against the roof, wishing he could just remember. Wishing he had a cigarette, but Uncle had shaken him out of that habit.

Inhaling sharply again, he tries to force his thoughts into a U-turn. Thinking about Uncle usually makes him feel like he's swallowed a pin cushion.

Blinking in the sun, Zuko tries to focus on the lessons his Uncle had taught him. Breathe, his Uncle's voice says in his head. You're in the sun, let it relax you. Draw strength from it, as Firebenders have for generations. Shifting so he lays flat on his back, Zuko begins meditative breathing again, inhaling for the count of four seconds, exhaling for five. Uncle was right, the sun does feel good, washing over all of his exposed skin. He stays that way until he hears someone climb onto the roof.

Mai settles next to him, gently runs a hand through his hair. "I could've killed you before you even turned to notice me," she says, by way of greeting.

Zuko cracks an eye at her. "Yeah, you could've," he agrees, then takes her hand, pulls her down for a kiss.

She lies splayed out across his chest, lips at his pulse point, and they breathe together for a few minutes. "How'd it go?" Zuko finally mutters into her hair.

Mai sighs, crawling off of him and sitting upright. "I drew him in, he doesn't suspect a thing." She purses her lips, thinking. "I didn't want to go too fast, so I agreed to a date in a few days and left it at that."

Zuko rasps a laugh. "No one-night stand for you?"

"Is that what you did with him?" She accuses him quickly, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not a faggot, Mai,” he says quietly. It’s half a lie, but he figured this out in Ba Sing Se and he knows Mai can’t forget a lifetime of prejudice so easily. Spirits, he couldn’t.

Mai nods. Plucks an orange from her pocket, begins to peel it. Zuko takes a deep breath. "I didn't know we sold oranges."

"You don't," Mai snorts. "I took it from the fruit stand next door." Zuko pulls the name tag reading "Xui" from the pocket of his apron. He'd had to quickly jettison it once Sokka had called him Lee and his carefully created identity had been shot to hell. Zuko lets the pin of it stab him in the finger, lets a drop of blood well up. He's so fucked.

"You really don't remember him?" Mai tries again, and Zuko shakes his head. He runs over his time in Ba Sing Se, but most of it had been dull, cramped days that bled together in their monotony. "Nothing," he says, and lets the needle prick him again.

Mai puts a hand over his, pulling the nametag away. Replaces it with half the orange and slides a careful hand under his chin, lifting his head so he looks her in the eyes. "Eat," she says softly, and he complies, putting an orange wedge into his mouth. "You're going to have to make contact with him again," she tells him seriously, starting in on her half as well. "If just to make him less suspicious."

"Can we even continue this mission?" he wonders aloud.

She thinks on this. "We have to try," she says eventually. Zuko hangs his head. "Hey," his girlfriend says softly, bringing up her hands to frame his face. Her hands smell like citrus, he can feel the stickiness of the juice on his cheeks. "Everything will work out. We'll trick those Federation idiots, bring home some good information for the Fire Nation Intelligence Agency. For your father."

For Azula, Zuko adds in his head. Out loud, he says "Guess I get to keep my thrilling job as a tea shop barista."

Mai smiles, elbows him in the ribs. "Relieving your glory days, huh?" The barb stings lightly, but Zuko lets it pass through him. "Practicing my most essential skills, more like." He leans in, she meets him there, and they kiss in the sun until some asshole customer rights the bell in the shop below.

Zuko rolls his eyes as Mai pulls off him with a small laugh. "If only they knew the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation was working a dead-end job in a tea shop!" she says gleefully. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, dropping neatly into the window and re-entering the tea shop. "I'll meet you after my shift!" He calls up to her, and she raps neatly on the side of the building in reply.

Go work in a tea shop. Be normal. Don't stare at Sokka, or at least don't be obvious about it. Be normal.

Zuko finishes the last of the orange, wipes his hands on his apron. Be normal. Right. He heads back to the counter.

Chapter Text

Mai desperately, desperately, does not want to go on this sham of a date with Sokka, the Federation Boy from the Southern Water Tribe. She views it as an absolute waste of time.

"We're just two people lying to each other," she tells Zuko, as she's getting ready in the apartment she's convinced Sokka is hers. "It's going to be one of the most boring evenings in my life. I'd literally rather do anything else."

"It's a crucial part of our mission," Zuko points out. "As long as you make sure the date goes well and he doesn't suspect anything, he'll break into this apartment to gain access to the fake FNIA base next door, and then we control all information the Federation gets on us. It's easily the most important priority of the FNIA right now."

"Who are you, Azula?" She bites at him. He barks out a laugh, but shoots her a betrayed look.

"It's also the most boring part of the mission," she complains. "Of course the date is going to go well, he needs it to. I don't have to do any work, which means I don't have anything to do."

"You can use the opportunity to try to gain more intel about the Federation," Zuko suggests, voice amused.

"Great idea. 'I know you told me you're a university student, but do you by any chance know anything about the Federation, an alliance of spy organizations from the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdoms, hell bent on destroying the Fire Nation?' That'll go over well." She fusses with her hair.

"It looks fine," Zuko says reassuringly, moving to take her hands. "Stop messing with it."

She slaps his hands away. "I'm doing it, I'm doing it," she says crossly. She shakes out her braid, surveys it in the mirror.

"Did you think our first dates were a waste of time?" Zuko asks, laughter running through his tone, because he already suspects the answer.

"Yes." Mai turns from the mirror, puts her hands on her hips. "We'd already known each other since we were kids. I had a crush on you bigger than the Earth Kingdom desert, and you'd," here she falters. "You'd decided to notice me."

"I was struck blind by your beauty," Zuko corrects, gathering her into his arms and giving her a sloppy kiss.

She extricates herself with difficulty. "You left the Fire Nation for a small vacation," she says the word delicately, and he shakes his head at her. "For a small vacation, and you were shocked that I had gone through puberty by the time you'd come back." She shrugs. "We'd already said everything we needed to say when I agreed to go out with you, the rest was just details." She turns back to the mirror, gets started on her makeup.

"Those details were fun, though," Zuko joins her in front of the vanity, rests his head on her shoulder.

Mai straightens her back, tries to hold her head regally, like her mother had taught her. "The details were fun, though," she agrees, before shaking him off so she can apply the kohl round her eyes with a steady hand.

Zuko watches her, silently. He's used to her makeup routine by now, has seen her do it a hundred times. "That's a nice color on you," he comments, as she colors her cheeks with some blush.

"I hate it." She snaps the blush closed, looks over herself in the mirror. Tries to make herself disappear underneath the makeup. Be invisible, she tells herself. An old lesson of her mother's. Be invisible, go unnoticed. Make yourself disappear, and then you can be anyone. Whoever you need to be.

"How do I look?"

"Nonthreatening," Zuko assures her. "Perfect." He goes quiet. "Do you think you can ask Sokka about me?"

Mai hesitates.

"About whatever happened between us that I can't remember?" Zuko prompts.

She squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn't have to look at him. "I don't think so," she says. Mai has already considered this, anticipating the question. "It would be strange of me to bring it up. I know you want to figure out what happened between you guys, but it would be too dangerous."

Her boyfriend looks utterly forlorn. "Yeah, okay," he says, then hugs her tightly as she heads for the door. "Good luck."

She leaves him in the apartment, making her way out to the street. Mai shouldn't bring Zuko up to the Water Tribe boy on their date. She shouldn't. It's dangerous, so she's not going to. She’s not going to. She nods decisively, telling herself on the way over that she won’t say anything, she'll put the mission over Zuko, and he'll have to get his answers elsewhere. And that’ll be that.

And then she meets Sokka at the stupid noodle shop and they order and five minutes later she’s already so bored she wants to jump off a bridge. She knew this was going to be miserable.

Plus, She can’t get Zuko’s put out expression out of her head.

So she brings him up anyway.

"What happened between you and the guy at the tea shop? It seemed like you knew each other," she asks, as casually as she can manage.

Sokka surveys her over his bowl of ramen, and she tries to look as innocent as possible. He’s just freaking out, she assures herself internally, trying to guess at his feelings. He’s just worried I’ll know he wasn’t Tun in Ba Sing Se, when he'd met Zuko for the first time, he’s just nervous about his cover, he probably doesn’t even realize how his gaze is running her through flat.

His eyes are ice blue, and so frozen right now she fears the cold will leech out into the air between them, making her breath frost. She shivers involuntarily.

"We hung out a bit in Ba Sing Se, when I was there on a research trip," he answers. She turns this answer over in her mind. He's telling the truth, or at least a truth. "What sort of research?" she asks, batting her eyes, then consciously reminds herself to take a bite of her own food.

"Engineering," Sokka answers, spooning thick noodles into his mouth. "Mostly steam."

Mai nods. This is actually totally plausible, according to his file he's one of the most important technical inventors for the Federation.

"That's really interesting," she lies. Mai doesn't give a shit about machines.

His eyes light up, melting in front of her. “Yeah?” he asks, then launches into an explanation of some steam engine. She studies him as he talks, waving his hands around erratically. He’s pretty, she finds herself thinking. His unadorned excitement charms her against her will. She sort of understands why Zuko would want to go for that.

If Zuko even really did go for that.

She chases her thoughts away from there, tries to refocus on Sokka as he blathers on. Don't think about that, she chants to herself, don't go there, don't go there don't don'tdon'tdon'tdon't

(She suspects that's what happened in Ba Sing Se. That something… physical happened between Sokka and her boyfriend.

Which is bad enough on its own, but if she starts thinking about Zuko and men, it's all too easy to start thinking about herself and… and women. Which would be, not good.

Hard to be invisible if you don't want to sleep with the right people.)

But Mai's lucky. Mai's lucky. Zuko is enough for her, really. She knows there are men who only like other men, women who are stuck with only women. Mai is flexible. Mai can hide.

Zuko is lucky, too. Or would be, if he just kept his hands to himself like he was supposed to.

***

"I can't believe you took her to our noodle shop," Suki says hotly. It's late evening. She has just watched Sokka see Akane Ito off at her apartment, and then followed him on the rooftops of the city to Sozin square, where they're sitting by the fountain. Suki has been waiting to say this to him all night.

Sokka shrugs. "I was gonna have to eat on the mission, I might as well enjoy it!"

Suki smacks him in the arm. "Sokka, we go there all the time. We use our real names."

He waves her off annoyingly. "It'll be fine, no one will figure us out. Besides, she asked me for a noodle shop recommendation, and you know it's the best place in the district."

She longs to break something. Suki loves her boyfriend, but sometimes he's a complete idiot. "You don't need to give her an honest answer when she's a mark and you're lying to her about literally everything else!"

"But she would've seen through me if I had told her to go to another place!" Sokka says earnestly. "You know I can't lie about food!"

Suki takes her face in her hands. "You're an idiot, that's what you are."

He rustles around in the bag at his side. "I got you your favorite," he holds it out in front of her like a peace offering, a pleading expression on his face. "C'mon, don't be mad."

She sighs, takes the container from him and tucks in. The heavenly smell of pan-fried noodles with sea slug does wonders to curtail her anger. "You're still an idiot," she mumbles through a mouthful. "How'd it go?"

"Good, I think." He pulls out a tea and takes a long sip from it. "I'm having dinner at her place later this week."

"Sokka, that's huge!" she splutters, and he grins modestly. "You did it! How soon can we start moving forward?"

"A couple of days after our next date, right? So we don't seem suspicious. She told me she works mornings in some dress shop, so the place will be empty then."

"Great job, Sokka," she says, just to see him smile again. "Seriously. I'll even write the report for headquarters."

"I hope so," he says mockingly. "Cause I'm doing all the grunt work."

"Hey, not so fast, I sat on a roof for an hour watching her laugh at your stupid jokes, I think that counts as grunt work." Suki stops for breath. "She's like, really pretty."

"Right?!" Sokka jumps in immediately. "She seems like she's into me, but she's got this, like, aloof air running under it. It's sexy."

Suki chews her food. "Damn. I love girls."

"Me too," Sokka shakes his head. "But you the most."

She rolls her eyes, blushes. "Obviously," she announces, to cover how smitten she is. "I'm the prettiest girl you've ever seen." But that Ito girl is something else. Suki knows what Sokka means; she seems delicate, but there's a feeling of something tightly coiled underneath, like there's something dangerous swimming around in there, and the only thing keeping it from breaking the surface is an old cage with a rusty lock.

Suki shivers in the night.

"So," she says, rooting around in the container for a piece of fried cabbage. "You going to clue me in about the tea shop guy now?"

Sokka closes in on himself, shoots her a defensive look, and Suki sighs. "We're going to have to talk about this eventually," she says quietly, and Sokka looks away.

"Ito asked about him, too," he mutters, and anger flashes quickly in Suki's blood, but she's quick to control it. No sense getting mad at him when he's already on edge.

"Were you going to tell me?" she asks in a measured voice. Sokka doesn't look at her, and she throws up her hands. "Sokka, come on. If it's going to compromise the mission, you have to tell me!"

"I was going to!" he insists hotly.

"No, you weren't," and now she's raised her voice without quite meaning to. "You were going to keep it to yourself so it could bite us in the ass later!"

She's surprisingly furious, but Sokka seems rattled, too. "So what if I wasn't going to tell you!" He shouts, "so what! Aren't I allowed to have secrets? Do I have to tell my girlfriend everything?"

"If it's about work, then yes, I need to know!" she insists, getting angrier and pushing her point too far. "Sokka, are you an agent or what?"

"If this is what being your partner means, then I want out!" he sneers at her, and Suki turns away from him, so he won't see how much that hurt.

She stews quietly next to him, but his words were enough to cut through her anger. What just happened? Why did she get so upset?

Suki tries to take stock of herself, get a sense of her emotions. Maybe it's bothering her more than she'd thought, whatever happened between Lee and Sokka. Maybe she really does want him to tell her.

She sighs to herself. Suki knows that Sokka met Lee before they had gotten together. She hopes that Sokka would tell her if anything from his past started mattering in the present.

Does she trust him to tell her?

She squinches her eyes shut. Decides she does. Of course she trusts Sokka, with her life, with her heart, with whatever secrets he has from his past. And he was right, of course he's allowed to have secrets. He doesn't have to tell her everything, even if she is his mission partner.

Suki takes a deep breath, knocks him on the shoulder and holds her noodles out to him. "Sorry," she says quietly. "Of course you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." Of course I trust you.

He sighs, takes the container from her. "Thanks. Sorry I said I didn't want to be your partner, that wasn't true."

"Okay," she says. "Thank you." She surveys him as he puts a stupid amount of noodles into his mouth.

"She asked about the guy from the tea shop, I told her I knew her from a trip to Ba Sing Se," he says unprompted. Suki nods.

"Did you go back to the tea shop?" she can't help but ask. Maybe that isn't fair, but she… she wants to know if Sokka sought him out again. If whatever happened in the past is going to matter in the present. She holds her breath while she gives her a long look. "No," he says eventually, and she nods, relief spreading through her.

"Do you think her asking about him will ruin the mission?"

"I don't know," he answers honestly.

Suki pulls a face. "It's sort of weird that she asked about it, right?"

Sokka rubs his chin. "Maybe? We were kind of loud… did anyone else in the shop notice?"

"No," Suki recalls instantly. "No one did." Huh. "That's sort of a red flag."

"Yeah. I don't think we should do anything, yet," Sokka says. "But we'll keep it in mind."

"Okay," Suki agrees easily, content to follow his lead. She's breathing easier, but she notices Sokka's holding his breath. She doesn't ask about it, waits for him to say it himself.

She only has to wait a few seconds. "I haven't gone back to the tea shop, but I--I want to."

Discomfort snakes through her body, giving her a pinched face and raised hackles. "Not to--not to do anything," he assures her quickly. "I just… Lee was important to me, you know? I just want to… see if he's okay."

He looks at her pleadingly, and she has no idea what to do. She selfishly, selfishly, wants to tell him she's not okay with it, that she doesn't want him anywhere near Tea Shop Guy. But he's always been so relaxed whenever she spends time with her ex from Kyoshi Island, it wouldn't be fair of her to try and control him like this. It probably wouldn't be fair anyway, she reasons.

And besides, she trusts him. She trusts him.

Suki exhales softly. "Yeah, okay. I don't have a problem with that."

Sokka grins like she's hung the moon. Her stomach twists. "You're the best," he says fondly, leaning in to kiss her, quick and dirty. She chases after his mouth for a moment, before pulling back and stealing her noodles from him.

He watches her with heavy eyes as she finishes her food. "Come on," she stands up from the fountain, pulls him to his feet. "The reports are calling."

He groans, slips his hand in hers. Kisses her softly again, before tugging her gently down the street.

***

Sokka's hesitating again, in front of the tea shop. Inside, Zuko's slowly going insane.

The other man has done at least four walk-bys of the shop, once standing menacingly in front of the door for a whole three minutes before walking on again. Zuko had timed it.

If he's going to come in, he should just come in. Every time he stands in front of the shop Zuko gets at least three-quarters of the way toward hyperventilating, and then he moves on and Zuko has to do another meditation just to calm down. This stupid back and forth is frying his nerves. He wishes Sokka would just enter the shop and get it over with.

The bell over the door jingles. Zuko looks up, and immediately his breathing goes into overdrive. He's finally come in. Sokka's here.

Now Zuko has to try and meditate while Sokka's in the room, pretending to look for a seat while his eyes find the counter, then deliberately skirt away from Zuko. Zuko manages five in and out breaths before giving up altogether.

Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up.

(Father had made it very clear that should he ruin this second chance, he won't be getting a third. Zuko has half a moment to wonder why he assigned Zuko potentially the most delicate mission in the whole fucking FNIA, and speculate that maybe he doesn't want Zuko to succeed, before Sokka is in front of him and he hurriedly swallows the thought down before he can choke on it.)

Sokka's at the counter. He has no idea what to say. Thankfully, Sokka has a working understanding of etiquette.

"Hey."

"Uh, hi?" So far, so good. Zuko's hand goes to the back of his neck, scritching at it uncomfortably. Sokka's eyes follow his arm, distracted by the movement.

"Do you, uh… want some tea?"

Of course he doesn't want some tea, he rages in his head. He wants to talk to you so you'll trip up and admit this whole thing is a ruse and man oh man, why isn't Mai here?

Because it would tip them off if they were always seen together. He's on his own.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Sokka turns his head to the menu written on the wall. Zuko takes advantage of the few seconds he's not looking at him to take several deep, cleansing breaths.

"Can I have a cup of milk oolong, please?" Sokka says eventually.

Deep breath. "Sure." Zuko turns, takes a porcelain cup from under the counter and pours him a generous cup of tea. "That'll be three copper pieces."

Sokka nods, fishes out his coin purse. "Thanks," he says, as Zuko hands him the cup. The smile he gives is nearly blinding, coaxes out an answering smile out of Zuko.

Fuck, but he's hot.

(Did they hook up in Ba Sing Se? While he was with Uncle, Zuko had… seen a few guys. Started to come to terms with the idea that he might be some kind of faggot. Or queer, as Uncle kept telling him. Was Sokka one of those guys?)

Zuko carefully focuses on putting the money in the register drawer. Picks his head to see Sokka is still in front of the counter, dawdling.

"Can I do something else for you?" he says bluntly, then winces because that probably sounded rude.

Sokka winces, too. Zuko is so bad at this. "No, I, uh, I guess this is it." He holds up his tea cup with another smile, turns to go find a table.

Zuko breathes a sigh of relief, only to inhale sharply as Sokka turns around again. "You, uh, you don't remember me, still, right?"

Zuko can only shake his head. It's probably the only truth he can admit to Sokka. "No."

Sokka nods. "Right," he says uncomfortably.

"Sorry," Zuko offers helplessly.

"Uh, thanks." Sokka fishes through his coin purse again. "Here," he drops a coin into the tip jar, manages another smile. Zuko tries to match it, but he's sure it comes out as a grimace.

Sokka goes to turn around again. "Wait." The word is out of Zuko's mouth before he'd given his mouth permission. Sokka turns around, face expectant.

"Did… we… I mean… " What happened between us, in Ba Sing Se? What can't I remember?

(Was I lucky enough to kiss you?)

Zuko's courage fails him. "Did we drink?"

Sokka's expression evens out. "Yeah," he says. "We drank a lot."

Mystery solved. "That's probably why I can't remember," Zuko says, nodding.

"Yeah." Sokka loiters for a moment, before turning around again. Zuko immediately dives beneath the counter, tries to catch his breath. That had been close.

Although close to what, Zuko isn't sure.

He doesn't want to stand up and admit to the customers that he'd been hiding under the counter, so instead he army crawls into the storage room, and tries to meditate while lying face down on the floor.

All too soon, the stupid counter bell rings again, pulling Zuko from the coma he was desperately trying to reach.

It better not be fucking Sokka, Zuko thinks to himself as he gets to his feet and slinks back to the counter.

It’s Sokka.

He looks uncomfortable, which is great, because Zuko is so uncomfortable he’s tempted to yell out “I am with the FNIA,” and then punch Sokka in the face, just to move things along.

(Not that he wants to mess up Sokka’s face, his brain adds helpfully. It is really pretty.)

He flicks the thought away. “Do you want a refill?” he asks, nodding to the cup in Sokka’s hand.

Sokka’s clutching the cup to his chest. “No, I, uh.” He clears his throat. “This is probably, I don't know, going too far? But I just, I gotta get this, out, okay?" he squares his shoulders. "I gotta say this."

Great. He's gotta get something off his chest. Zuko has absolutely no idea what's going to happen next.

(For half a moment, Zuko wonders if Sokka's going to say something really stupid, something really crazy. Like, he's in love with Zuko level of crazy.)

(Is he going to say he's in love with him? Zuko will not be able to stave off a panic attack if this Water Tribe boy that Mai and he are supposed to be tricking and that Zuko is supposed to remember from Ba Sing Se but can't confesses his love. This sucks, Zuko wishes he'd stayed at home.)

"In Ba Sing Se," Zuko tries desperately to brace himself. "You mentioned your Dad--"

What? Father? Zuko feels his face twist into a confused grimace.

"You said he'd… well, hurt you," Sokka continues, eyes flicking to his scar.

Holy shit. Was Zuko stupid enough to mention Father to this, this nobody he'd gotten to know for five seconds? What the fuck did he say? Did he tell him who his father was? Does Sokka know everything about Zuko, the way Zuko knows everything about Sokka?

(This is what's happening in the foreground of Zuko's mind. In the background, there is a cloud of anxiety. In the background, there is a shrieking panic that repeatedly stabs him between the ribs, holding his breath hostage.

In the background, there is the anguished keening of the thirteen year old boy Zuko never really grew out of, crying in a sickbay and holding poultice-soaked cotton to his face, in place of his Father's flaming fist.)

On the outside, Zuko fights desperately for control. Somewhere, above the surface, he hears Sokka stuttering over his words.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I--I didn't mean to--"

Zuko forces himself to take a deep, strong breath. Shoves the scared little boy away from his mouth.

Take control. Deal with this. Take control.

"It's okay," he says, surprised at how even his voice is, although it isn't above a whisper. "What about my Father?"

Sokka looks at him strangely. Swallows. "I, uh… you mentioned that living with your Dad could be… dangerous."

(The little boy howls with fear. He's going to hurt you again! He's going to call another Agni Kai! He's going to kill you!)

Zuko almost laughs at Sokka's understatement. But that's okay, the Fire Nation Royal Family doesn't have a monopoly on abusive fathers.

(Is Ozai abusive? Uncle's warnings the night Zuko decided to return to the FNIA flood his mind, and Zuko beats them back. He can't question this now.)

Focus. He told Sokka living with his father could be dangerous. Okay, and? What does that have to do with Sokka standing in front of him right now?

"And?" Zuko says, taking a page out of Azula's book and raising an eyebrow. It's rude, and he puts on an expression of irritation, of being bothered. Sokka recoils, and the flash of guilt Zuko feels is immediate, but brushing him off is the right choice.

It's better if Sokka doesn't talk to Zuko again.

Across the counter, Sokka seems to regain his composure. "Well, I wanted… I wanted to make sure you were okay," he admits in a rush.

Zuko can only stare at him. There's a dark flush across his cheekbones (it's beautiful, Zuko wants to run his finger across it) but he holds himself tall, and his eyes meet Zuko's.

Silence passes between them. "Are you?" Sokka ventures eventually.

Zuko has forgotten the question. "Am I what?"

"Okay?"

Ah. Sokka wants to know if Zuko is okay.

That's easy.

(Is it?)

He's back in his father's good graces, back on working for an Agency that's going to rule the world, back in line for the throne. Everything he's ever wanted is at his fingertips again, within reach after all those years in exile. So close he can touch it. Of course he's okay.

He's okay, he reminds himself. He is.

"I'm okay," he says to Sokka, then wills himself to believe it.

Sokka doesn't look convinced. (Zuko can hardly blame him.)

"Are you sure? Because if you're living with your Dad again…" Sokka trails off. Focuses his gaze on Zuko's scar. "I'm not sure it's okay."

That's presumptuous, Zuko thinks. Time to lie, which he's shit at, but he doesn't have another option.

"This was an accident," he says, pointing to his own ruined face.

Sokka doesn't look convinced by this either. "Really," Zuko says for emphasis. This one is easy, it's a lie he's told before.

(To Uncle, who smiled sadly at Zuko's insistence that his father would never. To himself, when the wound was fresh and he couldn't accept that Father would do it on purpose.)

"Okay." Sokka changes tactic. "If it was an accident, did he at least apologize?"

Zuko considers this. Realizes he has never considered this. To be fair, the thought of Ozai apologizing is laughable.

"He…" Zuko can't help himself from trailing off. "Yeah, he apologized."

Sokka clearly doesn't believe him, and for that Zuko has no one but himself to blame. "You don't have to stay there, you know," Sokka says suddenly. He reaches out, looks like he's going to try and grab one of Zuko's hands that are resting on the counter.

Zuko quickly moves his arms to his sides.

"You can leave," Sokka tries again.

This only serves to make Zuko angry. "Where would I go?" he snarls, and Sokka takes a step back, shocked by the change in Zuko's demeanor. "What, do you think I should move in with you?" he says meanly.

Sokka looks as though he's been hit. Zuko's words are cruel, or would be, if he didn't know that Sokka is lying. That he's here as a Federation Agent completing a mission. That the person, that the life he had apparently enchanted Zuko with in Ba Sing Se was as true as a spirit tale, just as is the story Zuko fed Sokka in turn.

There's no room in his life to offer Zuko anything.

Of course Sokka doesn't know that Zuko knows that, a small voice in the back of Zuko's brain reminds him. Sokka thinks they met each other the way anyone might meet anyone, that Zuko is just a person with a future wide open in front of him. He doesn't know that Zuko, like Sokka, is already spoken for.

The helplessness of the situation just makes Zuko angrier. Sokka can't offer him an escape, a way out. It isn't that simple.

"No," Sokka says. He looks around desperately. "No, I just meant--"

"You don't know me," Zuko insists harshly. "You don't know anything about me. Who are you to say something like that to a stranger?"

This, for some reason, gives Sokka resolve. "You're not a stranger," he says firmly. "You might not remember me but we aren't strangers. Look, man, I'm just working from what you told me. You said your Dad was bad news, and now you seem to be back with him, so I got nervous." Zuko opens his mouth to shout at him some more, but Sokka cuts across him. "Sorry if that offended you, but I don't want to apologize for… for caring." He pulls a small notebook and pencil from his pocket, rips out a page and scribbles on it. "I'm going to go, but I'll… I'll be in Republic City, for a bit. I'll be around," he says vaguely.

Ask him what he's doing in Republic City, Zuko thinks suddenly. Make him sweat. Ask him what he's doing here.

Sokka is looking at him expectantly. Zuko remains silent. The moment passes.

Sokka sighs. "Well, I'm around," he says again. "Look me up if… if you need me. I'm leaving now," he says, turning away. "Sorry I pissed you off. Have a good rest of your shift." With that, he exits the shop.

Zuko grips the counter, fights desperately for control. Does a few breath rotations to calm down. Does not think about Sokka. Goes back to work. Makes tea. Sweeps the floor. Does not think about Father.

Clocks out. Goes home. Gets into bed.

Doesn't think about Sokka. Doesn't think about Father.

(Dreams about Father, instead. A familiar nightmare, to block out the warmth of Sokka's smile, the earnestness of his care.)

Zuko doesn't sleep well.

Chapter Text

Suki looks at the file in her hands with a frown. "Are they sure this information is good?" she asks for the second time, opening the file and flicking through the papers.

Sokka rolls his eyes. They're in the Water Tribe District, at the apartment they share whenever they're in Republic City. He's been seeing Akane Ito for three weeks, and the Federation has installed round-the-clock surveillance on the FNIA base they'd accessed through her apartment, as well as breaking in every other night to sweep the place for new additions to their files. The information has been incredibly useful, which makes the new message from Pakku so frustrating. "Suki, I told you. New intel from the Federation suggests that there's another FNIA base in the area. We have to check it out."

"But all our information from the Ito base has been really helpful," she argues.

"Pakku says some of it has, but a lot of it has been junk." Sokka folds his arms over his chest. "Something feels weird about this, don't you think?" he asks. "I mean, wasn't it a little too easy to get into the Ito base?"

"No," Suki protests immediately, then backtracks. "Maybe," she allows. "Breaking in was kind of a joke."

"Exactly," Sokka nods assuredly. "I think Ito is involved."

Suki blows out a breath. "She asked how I knew Lee from the tea shop," he reminds her, even as his brain slinks away from bringing that up. "I really, really hope I'm wrong, though." It would be so much easier if she was clean.

"Let me suit up, and we'll find out," Suki says reasonably.

Half an hour later, Sokka and Suki are breaking into a condemned building four blocks from the apartment. Sokka finishes picking the lock on a door on the roof, and then they quietly make their way inside, shutting the door behind them with a click.

"It's four floors," Suki breathes. "Split up and do two floors separately, or stay together?"

"Stay together," Sokka decides. The move into the hallway, round a corner. It looks empty, but Sokka's brain is buzzing.

"I think you were right," he hears Suki admit. "I think there's something here."

The first two floors are a dead end, but the first room they turn into on the second floor has them both stopping in their tracks. "Shit," Sokka breathes. The walls are papered with maps of Republic City, of Ba Sing Se, of the whole world. There are filing cabinets surrounding the room. Sokka picks one at random, jimmies the lock and rifles through the files. "Look," he says, holding one up. "Fire Nation insignia. They can't resist putting their names on everything."

"So you were right," Suki breathes. "This sucks."

"It's not all bad," Sokka says, trying to find the bright side. "We found an actual base, that's something, right? And now we know the Fire Nation is feeding us information. We can definitely do some damage there."

"I'm sure you and Pakku will think of something," Suki says fondly. "You're right, it's not a total loss. What can you take from here?"

"I only have a small notebook," Sokka says, pulling it out along with a small pencil. "I'll fill in what I can, but we'll have to come back another time."

Suki nods. "I'll stand watch," she says, and Sokka turns back to the filing cabinet, trying to decipher which projects are the most important. He doesn't get very far, although he leaves a few hours later with a notebook full of goodies. They drop it off at headquarters, and spend the next week staking out the building, trying to get a sense of when the building will be empty. It's a highly used facility, they were lucky to have made it in the first time without getting caught.

They make their second break in six days after the first. It's nearly full daylight, which makes Sokka nervous, but this the only time where the building is empty. Or at least, usually empty. Which makes Sokka even more nervous.

The blinding sunlight makes him want to get in and out quickly, so he tells Suki to split up, having them take separate rooms as they copy files and learn what they can.

He's halfway through transcribing a file on an unnamed project when Suki runs silently into the room. "FNIA personnel," she hisses, and he can hear people walking through the building behind her.

Suki pulls him into a closet, quietly shuts the door behind her, just somebody enters the room. The sounds of shuffling feet mingle dangerously with Sokka and Suki's thunderous breaths as they try to quiet themselves.

"I don't think they're any closer to figuring us out," someone says from outside the closet in a quiet, nonchalant voice. Sokka has to resist the urge to thunk his head against the thin wood of the storage closet, because that's definitely Akane Ito. Fuck. Everything they learned from their raid on the supposed FNIA headquarters is null and void. The Fire Nation was one step ahead. He was right.

To make himself feel better, to take some of the sting of failure away, he mouths "told you," at Suki, and she sends him a withering look that only slightly covers the frustration he can see in her eyes. He tries to give her a small, comforting smile, and then turns an ear toward the door, waits for the other person to start talking. Maybe Sokka and Suki can identify them as well.

"So what's our next move?"

The bottom of Sokka's stomach drops out of him. That's definitely Lee. The voice is too raspy to belong to anyone else. Sokka would know it anywhere, has such a strong vision of the way it sounds pressed up against his ear that he has to shake himself. Suki looks at him, scandalized. "Lee? Tea shop hookup?" she mouths at him. Sokka can only nod shakily.

Suki inhales sharply. "Tea shop," she mouths urgently, and Sokka closes his eyes in a grimace. Right. Lee was there when he made first contact with Ito. She had asked about him on their date. They must have been working together the whole time. Fucking hell, the FNIA played them like a musical instrument. He feels sick at knowing they were just pawns in the hands of Ozai, sees a reflection of his stomach on Suki's face.

"Azula sent us this file on misinformation," Ito says, and Suki's nails dig painfully into Sokka's arm. Azula, the Fire Nation princess? Lee and Ito are working with Azula?

Sokka's body seizes up, goes abruptly stiff and cold. Lee and Ito are working with the Fire Nation Princess, Azula. Princess Azula has an older brother. Prince Zuko. An older brother who suffered a horrible burn in an Agni Kai with his father, and was exiled from the Fire Nation after.

He lets out a slow exhale, wants to smack his past self in the face. Of course he'd manage to drunkenly make out with the banished Prince of the fucking Fire Nation on his working vacation.

Suki taps him in the shoulder, and he manages to crack open an eye. She gives him a searching look. "Prince Zuko," he manages to whisper, and stabs a finger in the direction of the door. Her eyes go wide.

Just as the two of them piece it all together, they hear Lee (Zuko??? Prince Zuko??) draw in a sharp breath. "Hold on, Mai," he says quietly.

"Mai?" Sokka mouths, and Suki shakes her head, no idea.

"Company?" the woman who is not Akane Ito, says evenly. Sokka peers through the slats of the wooden door, sees she's drawn a dagger from her sleeve.

Zuko nods, walks around the perimeter of the room. Stops in front of the closet Sokka and Suki are hiding in. He can feel Suki take a fighting stance. "Get ready," she mouths in the dim light from the slatted door. It's about to go down.

Sokka nods. Zuko stays in front of them, absolutely still. Sokka's entire body is tense, ready to move, and he can feel Suki spring-loaded in front of him.

He braces himself. Waits for Suki to make the first move.

Just when the waiting becomes unbearable, Zuko makes a quick motion with his hand toward the door. Suki kicks it open, the force of it sending Zuko reeling back. Suki jumps out of the closet, fists up, and Sokka follows her, head spinning.

For a moment, the four of them just look at each other. Sokka can't believe what's happening. "You're working for the FNIA?" he asks incredulously.

“Sorry to disappoint,” the woman who is apparently Mai says with a small smile, before chucking a knife in his face. Hot, Sokka has time to think, before Suki shoves him out of the way and bats the knife out of the air with one of her fans. “Sokka, come on!” She grabs his hand and pulls him away, nearly tripping him in her haste to get out of there. Sokka rights himself and takes off after her.

“I can’t believe it!” he pants as they race through the hallways of the building. "I can't believe they were in on it together!"

"I can't believe you didn't realize Tea Shop Hookup was the Fire Nation Crown Prince!" Suki shoots at him. “Fuck!” she swears, as Zuko appears at the end of the hallway. They double back, and Sokka leads them down a dead end. “Sokka, you’re sure we can get out this way?”

“Yes! Follow me!”

“Just like you were sure about Lee?”

“As if this is just my fault," he finds time to say. "And yes, the room on the left has a window!” he bellows over his shoulder, skidding to a stop in front of the door and throwing it open. “I stashed a grappling hook in here while you were being sneaky sneaky in the other rooms; now let’s go!” She shuts the door as he grabs the hook and shoves the window open. “And for the record, my instincts told me Lee was clean!”

“Well cute boys fuck your instincts to hell, don’t they?” Suki spits back. “Speaking of-"

Zuko bursts through the door just as Sokka throws the grappling hook, Mai right behind him. Sokka hears the hook catch on the roof opposite, grabs Suki round the middle, and swings them both out the window. “See you later, pretty boy!” He sings triumphantly, before angling himself between Suki and the building hurtling toward them as she gets a grip on the rope.

“Ouch!” He hisses as his back crashes into brick.

“That was almost very dashing,” Suki says, kicking out the glass in the nearest window. "I think I broke something," he gripes. Suki pulls herself up above him on the rope and starts swinging. "Help me out here and I'll give you a kiss," she promises, and he obliges her, swinging his weight back and forth. After a few swings she makes her move, leaping from the rope and flying gracefully through the window, landing in a rolling crouch inside. Sokka's always a little starstruck whenever she does something like that.

Her head pops up. "Very sexy," Sokka says, but her face looks stricken. "Sokka!" she screams, and Sokka looks up, sees the incoming blast of fire from Zuko's fist through the window and ducks his head, huddling into his jacket and letting the fire glance off his back. "Fire proof jacket and rope!" he says gleefully, then hears Mai chuckle, and then a dangerous whistle.

Followed by a schnick!

Followed by freefall.

"But not knife proof!" Mai says from above him.

Freefall, again.

Fre--ouch!

Something clamps around his ankle and he slams into the wall again, face-first this time. "Gotcha," Suki pants from above him.

"I think you broke my nose!" Sokka hisses through a mouthful of blood that manages to rain both up and down his face, pouring into his eyes. He can feel Suki brace herself and haul him ass up through the window. "Better your face against brick than your ass against pavement," she advises crossly. She never likes it when this shit happens to him.

As his neck crosses the windowsill, Sokka sees another knife embed itself into the wall where his head had been. Once all of him is inside, he grabs hold of Suki and spins them so he's got her pressed against the wall, open window beside them. He kisses her, and a blast of flame roars into the room. When he pulls back, her cheeks are pink. "Thanks for the save."

She rolls her eyes, grins at him. "Anytime. Now let's go."

***

"Why did you react like that when I cut the rope?"

Zuko doesn't know how to answer Mai. "I… why don't we try and head them off?" he winces at his clumsy deflection, but Mai's one of the few people who won't make him feel bad for it. "We don't have eyes on that building, it'll take too long to comb it and it has too many exits." She sniffs, checks her watch. "Besides, Azula will be here in five minutes." She eyes him carefully, and he hears her subtle warning. Get yourself together. Azula's coming.

Five minutes. Zuko nods, turns away from her. He decides to use his time. Why did he react that way, crying out when Mai's knife sliced through the rope keeping Sokka aloft? What does he care if Sokka dies? He shouldn't care, he's just some… some dumb pretty boy, too stupid to know what side to fight on. So what if he seemed nice, hadn't Azula and Mai taught him that anybody could seem like anybody, that anyone could say anything? He needed to quit being stupid, he was going to get himself into trouble.

(Anybody could talk like anybody, but Sokka could talk like… like Zuko's mother, before she'd defected to god knows where. Like his Uncle, before Zuko left him in prison to rot.)

(Like Mai, when she forgets to be Azula's puppet.)

(Like Azula, when she forgets to be Ozai's daughter.)

Zuko swallows. "Mai, did you really want to--"

She cuts him off with a hard look. She's always known him better than he knows himself, but he can see the look of betrayal in her eyes. Trust her to pick up on what he barely can see in himself.

"This isn't about you!" part of him screams, but he can't say that to his girlfriend. To his partner.

"Mai," he says quietly instead, and when she says "don't," in a harsh voice, it nearly breaks his heart. Ignoring her, he takes her hand. "You know how important you are to me," he says pleadingly. She softens, glances at her watch again. "Time's up," she murmurs, then leans up to give him a kiss.

Their lips are still connected when someone steps into the room, and then Zuko can hear Azula sigh loudly. "I'm not here to watch you two break workplace regulations," she says haughtily, and Zuko catches Mai, back facing Azula from her position in Zuko's arms, roll her eyes. "How do you even know what those are, you've never been in a workplace?" Zuko snaps at her. Mai moves to stand by his side.

"HR would disagree with you there," Azula says. "But I heard about them when I was spying on you during your betrayal period," his sister adds dismissively.

"I thought you were in Omashu while I was with Uncle," Zuko says, deceptively cool even as he feels himself tense. His hackles are always up when his sister mentions his time in Ba Sing Se.

"I was, but then I moved as soon as Father figured out your position," she grins evil at him, all teeth, always enjoying reminding him of his tenuous relationship with his father, the control he and Azula have over his life. Zuko contents himself with narrowing his eyes, clenching his hands into fists. The anger is more for show, he realizes more and more. His rage, once his forever bedmate, has subsided, leaving only confused feelings in its place.

"I arrived in the city right after the Ancestral Festival," she adds.

Zuko's heart jolts in his chest.

The Ancestral Festival.

He remembers Sokka from the Ancestral Festival.

That's when they met, Zuko realizes suddenly. He had hung around Uncle's tea shop one day in the summer. They attended the Ancestral Festival together. And after--

Zuko fights to keep his face from flushing. Spirits. Sokka knows him, like, really knows him. Fuck. Azula always told him his time with his Uncle would be a liability.

Azula. Shit.

Does she know that Sokka's recognized him? Where he's recognized him from? He and Mai had kept it from the mission report, but suddenly Zuko is sure she knows anyway. She must, that's why she brought it up. To throw it in his face. Trust his sister to be ahead of him here, too.

Does she know what happened with Sokka? Has Zuko been caught out?

Anxiety rears high in his throat before he comes to his senses. No, she'd had eyes on the shop, which his Uncle had suspected, but he'd been taught by Ozai, just like she had. He knows he and Sokka hadn't been followed. Hadn't been seen. Zuko's safe there, at least.

His mind shifts to his girlfriend standing beside him. Does Mai know? Does she care? It was before they were really together, but it'll change her opinion of him anyway. Zuko… isn't sure what she knows.

"So." Azula moves her hair out of her face, crosses her arms over her chest. "What do you have for me?"

Another dilemma. Should they tell her the truth, that Sokka and Suki have figured them out? Can Zuko risk Ozai's ire a second time? Just as he's decided no, he can't, just as self-preservation kicks its way to the surface, Mai does him in. "We've been made," she says calmly. Zuko's fight or flight response punches a flinch throughout his entire body, but a slight hand fisting in the shirt at the small of his back stills it. Mai. Zuko relaxes instantly, trusting Mai implicitly, and she keeps her hand where it is as she talks Azula down. "They found us out, but we've managed to collect enough intelligence that the mission won't be a total failure. We've sent people following our two targets day and night, along with searching their apartment, and we've managed to pull a lot of intel on Federation activity. We're close to learning the location of the Federation base in Republic City. We've also managed to successfully distract the Federation long enough for Project Phoenix to be completed," Mai recites carefully.

Zuko exhales. Mai's right, it isn't a total loss. They've collected good information for his father, he's kept himself out of Ozai's blast zone. Mai's kept him out of Ozai's blast zone. He wants to thank her for that and taking the burden of explaining off of him, so he opens his mouth. "Thanks to the work Mai put in, won't lose too many leads. She was careful, there's no way they'll realize how much intel we've been able to gather. They won't know it's connected to us, and even if they suspect, Mai made sure to triangulate from a couple of different sources. They won't be able to catch all of it. Another team should have no problem."

Next to him, Mai says nothing, only inclines her head. Behind him, the hand on his back snakes down to cup his ass and squeeze before flitting away again. Zuko fights the smile from his face.

In front of him, Azula says "Trust Zuzu not to pull his own weight." The hand at his back tenses. Zuko remains still, quelling the anger in his chest, only allowing himself a small "pleasure working with you, Azula, as always." Her chin comes up and her nostrils flare, she doesn't like being dismissed, but the meeting's over. "There have been unexpected delays with Project Phoenix, unfortunately you were unable to fulfill the mission requirement of distracting our opponents for the entirety of the construction timeline," she informs them. "However, your work is passable. I'll expect a full report by this evening, then, so we can transfer your leads to new teams."

Zuko inclines his head. "Your wish is my command." When did the feeling of powerlessness become so suffocating?

This isn't enough to placate Azula; she stands at attention, brings her hand to her forehead in a salute. Zuko sighs, and he can feel Mai do the same. He tries not to grit his teeth. The stupid show of power is something he didn't miss when he fled the Fire Nation, and he has little patience for it now.

But he and Mai aren't the type to start a fight over something so trivial. At least, not anymore. They repeat the gesture.

Satisfied. Azula nods, swiftly about-faces and exits the room. Zuko hears Mai's quiet exhale, feels her body loosen. She listens for another moment, then nods, stepping into his space again. Zuko brings his arms up around her, lets her cradle her face into his shoulder. "Lying would have done more harm, in the long run," she murmurs into his shirt. She must have heard Azula leave the building. Zuko taps her twice between the shoulders, knuckles rapping on her back. "She won't go to Ozai unless she's certain she can't fix it quietly on her own," Mai continues. He feels her hold her breath. "In some ways she's as scared of him as you are," she whispers.

Zuko's hold on her tightens. "I'm not scared of him," he says, voice too loud. They both know he's lying.

"We're okay, we have this under control," she answers, voice soothing. "Until we don't, and Azula goes to my father and heaps all the blame on my head," Zuko worries, fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He hates how weak he is, still afraid of his own father. The scar tissue tightens painfully.

"That won't happen, stop worrying," Mai instructs, calm and confident in the face of his anxiety. She kisses her palm, lays it over his scar. He leans into her hand, and she cradles his head for a few moments, before Mai pulls her hand back and flicks him gently on the nose. "Come on, let's get that report done." Zuko grounds loudly. "And then we'll have the evening to ourselves," she promises, raising an eyebrow. He takes her hand, laces her fingers together. Leads her out of the building. It's early evening, the sky is still light from the sun that's just disappeared from the horizon, the stars slowly coming out. A warm breeze snakes it's way through the city. Zuko puts an arm around Mai's shoulders. They take the long way back to Mai's apartment.

***

The next few days are not exactly kind to Zuko. He's always primed to expect the worst, and is always surprised by it when it hits, anyway.

This isn't the worst, he's been in far more awful situations before, but it is pretty bad.

Once he and Mai report in about what they've managed with Sokka and Suki, it becomes clear that, despite Mai's hard work, most of the leads they were following are now essentially dead in the water. Headquarters splits them up and sends him on another mission. He hates being apart from Mai, and knows Azula does it just to spite him, but even he can admit that it makes more sense for her to go solo on an intel gathering, undercover mission rather than have him tag along and risk mucking it all up.

Her going alone would have been fine, except they'd sent him to the ass-end of the Earth Kingdom with the useless mission of scoping out a potential site for a base deep in the unmapped forest. It's a stupid, unnecessary mission, and it's clear Azula knows that from the way she smirks when she gives him the file. Zuko spends half a day sulking on a ship, changes clothes and boats on the Fire Nation's outermost island, and makes it to the mainland, only to find out that Azula's information was not-quite perfect, and the boat had dropped him about thirty miles from the wooded area he's supposed to be surveying. Cursing Azula, he steals a cart and ostrich horse and manages half a day on the road, before jettisoning the cart and bushwhacking through the underbrush. He's forced to use his Dao to clear a path, and occupies himself with snide, snobbish mental tirades about how sword fighting is an art, and his two expensive, brilliantly tempered Dao are not the right equipment for this, Azula. He should have been given a fucking scythe, he thinks savagely, swatting a fly out of the air.

He only manages roughly four miles the first day, and resigns himself to a miserable two weeks of doing useless work. He fashions himself a lean to, pitches his tent under it, has a lonely meal and goes to sleep. It's almost a relief when he wakes up to find Sokka and Suki have invaded his tent, Sokka holding a long, black sword an inch from his throat.

***

"We are the luckiest people in the world," Suki breathes next to him. Privately, Sokka agrees with her. Her eyes have gone huge as she takes in the sleeping form of the Prince of the fucking Fire Nation beneath them.

"Is he really asleep?" Sokka mutters, staring at him dubiously. Sokka's an agent, sure, but stealth has never been his strong suit.

"I think so." Suki looks up at him, grinning. "Guess your tap dancing through the forest wasn't enough to wake him up."

"Shut up." His mind is a blank, he's totally unprepared to run into Zuko here, of all places. He'd thought that had been the end of it, after they'd realized Mai and Zuko were screwing them, and had quietly mourned the loss of the potential anything he'd had with Zuko, thinking he'd never see him again. "What is he doing here? He doesn't know about the Freedom Fighters, does he?"

"I doubt it," Suki whispers back. "Jet's always been good at covering his tracks."

Sokka can't help the sour look on his face. "Of course he is, he's good at everything, isn't he?"

Rolling her eyes, Suki says, "you need to get over your thing with him, he does good work."

"He hurts innocent people!" Sokka shoots at her. "You don't always get to pick your allies," Suki says diplomatically. "Besides, you just hate that everyone's in love with him."

"He's not that good looking and smooth."

"He is." Suki shifts quietly, dispelling the air around them. "What are you doing?" Sokka hisses, as she takes out her fans.

She levels him with an unimpressed look. "I'm taking Crown Prince Zuko Captive. Come on, draw your sword. We can have him completely incapacitated."

Right. He's an enemy agent, of course they're going to take him captive. He tries to shake off the mental cobwebs, reaching for his sword where it's strapped to his back. The slight schick sound as it scrapes against the scabbard makes Zuko stir, and Sokka fumbles, manages to get the sword in front of him and pointed in the right direction.

Zuko's eyes remain closed. One second passes. Two. Three.

A breath of fire flares up in their faces; Suki waves it away with her fans. Sokka lunges forward, places the blade of his weapon on Zuko's neck.

"Nice try," Suki says with a smile. Sokka doesn't say anything. He's too busy trying to figure out the expression on Zuko's face. Annoyance, sure, and resignation mixed with… relief, maybe?

Sokka shakes his head. He's got better things to think about than Zuko's face. "We're kidnapping you," he informs Zuko.

Zuko's expression shifts into something more stoic. "Thrilling," he deadpans.

Chapter Text

Mai lets herself into her hotel room, carefully shuts and locks the door behind her. Leans back against it, presses both hands on the door behind the small of her back.

There's no one here, she tells herself. There's no one here. She takes a deep, generous breath in, holds it, and carefully lets it out. Repeats the action twice more. There's no one here. She relaxes her shoulders, shakes off the rigid, upright posture her mother had forced onto her at birth. There's no one here.

She has to check, first, though, and so she does a thorough search of the room. Nothing there. Nothing out of the ordinary. She's really alone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she toes off her shoes and flops onto the large bed in the center of the room, pressing both palms over her eyes. The mission is over, finally and she wants to shake it off herself, get rid of the tension that's burrowed it's way into her shoulders and back. She recalls the meditative breathing Zuko had taught her. Deep inhale, hold, and then slow exhale. Deep inhale, hold, and then slow exhale.

Deep inhale, hold, and then slow exhale.

Deep inhale, hold… she can feel her fingertips smudging her eye makeup, wishes she didn't care. Deep inhale, hold… it's no use. Mai sighs, heaves herself off the bed and moves into the bathroom. She runs the tap, wets a towel and brings it carefully to her face. There's no one here, she reminds herself again, before swiping the rag over her eyes. When she opens them again the makeup has gone everywhere, light pink eye tint mixing with the dark kohl and dripping down her cheeks. The mission was just information gathering in a city not too far from Ba Sing Se, required what Zuko called her "I'm pretty and delicate and not a threat and definitely not keeping any knives under my clothes," makeup. Thinking of him now makes her smile, just a second, before she surveys herself in the mirror and sighs again.

Mai hates this makeup, hates any makeup that makes her stand out. No, hates any makeup that makes her look more feminine than she already does. And also hates any makeup that makes her stand out. That had been a lesson from her mother.

Michi's voice rises up, unbidden, in her head. You're a woman, like me. A noblewoman, but a woman nonetheless. And we are utterly unremarkable, not very pretty, I'm afraid. Mai can feel her mother taking her face in her hands. You've inherited my plain looks, my girl. But pretty women stand out, which can be to their disadvantage. We can, we must, be utterly invisible, do you understand? It is the job of the woman to be noticed for her beauty, or not noticed at all.

This memory sits pride of place in Mai's mind, she revisits it time and time again. Especially after her mother had passed. Yes, mother, her nine year old self had said. Yes, mother.

She picks up the rag again, works at getting the stuff out from under her eyes. But you will see, there are good things about being unremarkable. There are advantages to being beautiful, and having all eyes upon you, all the time, and there advantages to being ordinary, going unseen. In the here and now, Mai wipes the makeup off her face, but in her head she watches Michi prepare herself for one of her father's parties, carefully painting the thinnest line of kohl under her eyes. Do you see how I do it? Just enough that anyone looking will know it's there, but not so much that it's obvious. And the lipstick? The same, just enough. Anyone looking at me will pass right over me, maybe think 'ah, she is the wife of Ukano. No more, no less.' And not give me a second thought. And that's what we want, no second thoughts. In the memory, Mai was so young she could barely see over the counter of her mother's vanity, and after a moment Michi picks her up and sets her beside her on the bench. Her mother gives her a rare smile. I betray myself, she says, and then pulls out a pair of jade earrings and begins to put them on. A present from your father. Sentimentality will be the death of me. She surveys herself in the mirror. And how do I look?

Mai's childhood self knows the answer. Ordinary, Mama.

Ordinary. She ruffles Mai's hair. Perfect.

In the hotel bathroom, Mai has a go at the lipstick, scrubbing at her mouth to get the lurid pink off. The bulk of the makeup is gone, although the dark circles under her eyes make her look like a vengeful spirit. Mai washes her face carefully, smooths it dry with a towel. Unthinking, she reaches for the kohl again, to do the neutral makeup she does every time she leaves the apartment.

Catching herself, she closes her eyes. There's no one here. She forces a deep breath. There's no one here.

Eyes still closed, she walks from the bathroom, begins undressing. Undoes her belt, pulls off the ugly, formless red tunic, and the loose pants that go with it, leaving them crumpled on the floor. She doesn't want to look at the clothes she's worn undercover, wants them off, away from her. Breathes a sigh of relief when her body is free of them, her only remaining clothes the skin tight undershirt and leggings she wears under all her clothes, every day. And, of course, the weapons concealed in them.

You could have fit more knives in the belt, Michi says in her head. Yes, but I didn't want to risk someone seeing, Mai answers. Normal women don't carry weapons in their belts.

True enough.

Mai sits on the bed, remembering the first time her mother dressed her for a party. Do I have to wear all these layers? she'd asked, wrinkling her nose.

Yes, her mother had said simply. Look, she'd held up her own wrist. What do you see?

A fancy-dress tunic, Mai had said, bored. Michi had pulled back the sleeve. And this?

A fancy-dress undershirt. Mai had started pouting. Don't look so unenthused. And this?

Michi had pulled back the sleeve again, flipping her arm over. There, tied to her forearm, was a tiny blade. Mai had stared at it, enthralled. We dress in layers. We may have to clothe ourselves in femininity, like it or not, she had readjusted her tunic, pulling the layers back down to her wrist. But femininity on an unremarkable woman is full of potential, is a hiding place. Where is the last place anyone would look?

Mai had stared at her mother, eyes shining with being trusted with this knowledge. In the clothing of an unbeautiful woman, Michi had answered.

In the clothing of an unbeautiful woman. Mai fingers her undershirt, runs a hand over the blades strapped to her arms. Should she take it off?

There's no one here.

Mai is about to pull the shirt over her head when there's a knock at the door. Mai freezes.

The knock rings out again. "Miss?" someone calls through the door. "I have a telegram for you."

A telegram. It's probably headquarters, then. Mai sighs, throws the long-sleeved tunic back over herself. Your makeup, Michi says gently in her head, and Mai looks to the bathroom, shakes her head. I don't have time.

She pulls the tunic into place, takes a deep breath, and opens the door, standing half behind it and only keeping her torso in view.

A bellhop stands in front of her. "A telegram for you, miss," he says, holding it out in front of him. She takes it, thanks him and shuts the door in his face. She's tired.

Alone again, Mai places the telegram on her bedside table. I'll read it in a minute, she thinks before her mother can ask.

She's alone again. She takes a deep breath, then pulls the shirt over her head in one swift movement, quickly unstrapping the blades and shurikens and daggers so they all fall to the floor in a heap. She does the same to her pants, unfixes the few stray weapons that lie against her skin, and then it's just her. Only her underclothes between her and the air of the hotel room, just how she likes it.

This is a security risk, Michi says in her head. Mai doesn't care. She unpins her hair from the tight bun it's snaked into at the crown of her head, lets it lie loose around her.

She lies on the bed. Finally. No makeup, no clothes, nothing to pretend with. No one to pretend to. Just her.

Her breathing evens out. Lazily, she runs through a series of stretches, more for the love of how her body feels than any athletic need.

Okay. She manages the meditative breathing Zuko'd talked about for a few minutes, then turns her attention to the telegram. Let's see what Azula wants.

It's in code, obviously. Mai takes a few minutes to decipher it, brow furrowed and back hunched over the telegram that sits in her cross-legged lap, but when she manages it her heart stops.

"No Zuko report. Unknown Location. Likely Captured. Remain in Location."

No Zuko report. Unknown Location. Likely Captured.

Likely Captured. Those Federation assholes had taken him.

Mai feels a moment of blinding, searing rage. She grabs a knife off the floor, hurls it into the bathroom mirror where it shatters. The shards clatter in the sink. Grabs another blade, slashes it through a pillow, sending a cloud of feathers floating through the room. Her skin is suddenly too small for her body, her body too small for her heart and organs and muscles and bones. She gets up, paces furiously in the small room.

Those assholes. It was Sokka and Kyoshi, she knows it in her bones. They took him from her. They took him. She almost screams.

Snatching the telegram from the bed, she reads it again. "Remain in Location," that's for her. Zuko was taken and she can't even do anything about it. For a moment she wishes lightning would strike Azula dead.

Frenetic energy pushes against Mai's skin from the inside out. She has to do something, she can't just sit here. Remain in location, she can't leave. In the end, she ends up on the floor, doing reps of push ups just to get the movement out of her system.

The rhythmic motion helps her body calm down, but when the anger slips out cold fear comes in its place. What if they hurt him? They know who he is, what if they torture him for information? It's what the FNIA would do.

Fear for him grips her so suddenly that she collapses on the floor, stiff with anxiety. What if they kill him? What if she never sees him again? She shouldn't have let him go alone on that mission, should have insisted she go with him. He can be useless by himself.

How will she go on without him? It's only been a week and she already misses him so much it hurts, what if they never give him back to her?

These thoughts are paralyzing, and rather than think them, she forces herself to do more push ups, then sit ups, then the diamond push ups Ty Lee had taught her. She pushes her body till her joints creak from exhaustion, till she can barely move.

She falls asleep with the telegram clutched in her hand.

When she wakes up the next morning, she sees things more clearly. She can think straight.

Mai dresses carefully, does her makeup using one of the shards of the broken mirror, goes down to the front desk and asks that a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of coffee be brought to her room. Goes back to her room, sits herself on the bed. Reconsiders the situation.

They won't kill him. The Federation prides itself on being different, being better than the FNIA by refusing to kill enemy agents. By refusing to do what is necessary, and often neater and more efficient, in Mai's opinion, but whatever. They won't kill him. At most, they'll probably throw him in prison, and Zuko can handle himself there. He isn't in mortal danger.

Mai breathes a little easier.

A knock at the door, her breakfast. She accepts the tray, places it on the desk. Has a sip of the coffee. Goes back into the bathroom, removes her makeup. Puts the coffee on the bedside table, holds the porridge in her hand. Resettles herself on the bed, lies the telegram on the blanket in front of her.

A lady should eat at the table, Michi says reproachfully.

I am alone. I need to focus. Go away.

And she goes. Mai is not haunted by her mother's ghost, only slightly bothered by it.

She starts from scratch again, methodical as she is, and reads the telegram again.

"No Zuko report. Location unknown. Likely captured. Remain in location."

No Zuko report. He didn't report in from the Earth Kingdom town of Heibao, like he was supposed to after he finished his mission. That means he either chose not to report, or never made it there. "Likely captured," Azula is rarely wrong. So he never made it there. They kidnapped him on the way.

Mai takes a deep breath. How did they find out his location? She reaches into her small suitcase, pulls out a map and spreads it out on the bed. She and Zuko had disappeared after Sokka and Suki had found them out, actually going so far as to flee the city and resurface in the Fire Nation, well behind the border so they could regroup. They'd made it to the Capital Island, before Zuko split off and island hopped until he'd made it to the Earth Kingdom. He'd sent her a telegram the night he'd hit the mainland, and then gone dark as he completed his mission in the unmapped forests of the Earth Kingdom. They must have kidnapped him there.

Mai closes her eyes. The FNIA usually waits two days without a report before cataloguing an agent as missing in action, and it would have taken another half a day at least for the message to reach Mai in Republic City from Azula's current position at the Caldera. That's almost three full days for Sokka and Suki to move Zuko. They could be anywhere in the Earth Kingdom by now.

You're catastrophizing, she thinks to herself. She takes a pen from her bag, draws a circle about three inches wide around the point where Zuko was likely captured. They can't move too fast. She needs to start there.

But where are they going? She puts her tongue between her teeth, searches the map again. Her eyes fall on a spot in the mountainous region north of the village. They'd picked up rumors that the Federation had a base there. If it's true, that's where they'll take him before they decide what to do with him.

That's where she needs to go.

Plan made, she folds up the map and stashes it in her suitcase. Her eyes fall on the telegram again, and she lets out a huff. "Remain in location," Azula had said. She can't even go after him.

Remain in location? Fine, she has paperwork to do.

***

"I'll take the first watch," Suki says decisively. She's used her special, Leader-of-the-Kyoshi Warriors tone that says she means business.

Not that Sokka ever listens. He glances at her, eyes skittish, before looking back to the bag he's unpacking, throwing their supplies haphazardly on the forest floor. "Are you sure? You're tired, today took a lot out of you, I can--"

She squares her shoulders and narrows her eyes, hands on her hips. It's been three days since they poached Zuko in the unmapped Earth Kingdom forest, and in that time Sokka has gotten more and more jittery around their guest. He drops whatever he's holding whenever Zuko opens his mouth, barely talks to Zuko, and when he does manage to get a few words out they're so stiff and awkward Suki half wonders if he's having some sort of panic attack. She's never seen him act like this. It would be funny, if it weren't getting in the way of their mission.

(Well, that isn't true. He acted like this right around the time he decided to ask her out, but she's trying hard not to think about that.)

Suki understands that their history, whatever it is, is important to Sokka. She also understands that he doesn't want to tell her what happened. At least, not yet. She knows he'll tell her later, when he's ready, and she could accept that, were she in civvies. As his girlfriend, this is only mildly annoying, but as his mission partner it's infuriating, unacceptable. He needs to leave the past in the past, and get his head in the game.

The look she's given him does it's job. "Or--you know what? You're right, you take the first shift, good idea." Sokka finishes talking and stands there awkwardly, eyes darting to the Crown Prince and then shifting away suddenly, staring determinedly at the stars above. Zuko, for his part, is hyperfocused on his manacles, but Suki catches his neck flush every time Sokka's gaze lands on him.

She rolls her eyes to herself. Some agents these two are. Could they be any more obvious?

"I need to piss," Zuko says suddenly. "You gonna let me have a hand?" He holds out his cuffed wrists, a sneer on his face.

"Nope," Suki says, popping the p. She rises from her squat where she's setting up the tent and wipes her hands together to get the grime off. "Cuffs stay on, pal, you know the drill. But maybe Sokka will give you a hand if you ask nicely."

She couldn't resist, and it's immediately worth it: both boys color instantly, Zuko turning a red cheek aside while Sokka glares at Suki, making a slicing motion over his throat. Suki shrugs, mostly managing to keep her laughter to herself. "I'll go alone, thanks," Zuko mutters, stomping off behind a tree. As soon as he's out of earshot, Sokka starts hissing at Suki.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She raises an eyebrow at his tone, and he calms down for a moment, looking apologetic, before ratcheting back up again. "You can't, just, say that to us!" he says furiously.

"You're cute when you blush," Suki answers unapologetically, then lowers her voice. "You need to get your head in the here and now, okay?" she insists. "Whatever happened between you two in the past, it doesn't matter, it's dead in the water. Keep it off mission."

She's being harsh, but she knows it's for the best. It's unlikely to stick in Sokka's head, anyway, direct orders from her tend to roll off him like water off a feathered back.

Sokka opens his mouth to retort. "Nothing--happened! It was a, a, a civil--meeting! Between two respectable, citizens!"

"You don't have to tell me what happened, you know, that's not what I meant," Suki says, trying to calm him down and stop his acting like a ridiculous idiot. What Sokka decides to keep to himself about his past is his business, even though she wants to know and wants to make sure he's okay, she'll never begrudge him his privacy. Just like he'll never force her to tell her anything about her past she doesn't want to share. "You just need to get your head out of your ass."

"My head is right where it should be, thank you," Sokka says, sniffing like some member of an ancient nobility, and Suki sighs her special Sokka sigh.

"Look," she says, lowering her voice even more and sobering up. "The only way your past...whatever is relevant now is if you use it to get in his head, get him to trust you."

Sokka's already shaking his head. "No, I don't want to...no," he says quietly. "Okay," Suki says easily. She knew this is what he would say. That's always been more her style than Sokka's, even though she isn't as good at it as she'd like to be. As the Federation sometimes requires. "I can't do that to...he's already had enough of that," Sokka says to himself, and Sukki knows fuck-all what that means.

"Okay," she says again. "But if that's the case, you need to leave that shit at the door."

Sokka nods, still looking uneasy. Suki turns back to the tent.

"It does matter," Sokka says softly. She walks back over to him. "What?"

"It does matter," he repeats. "What happened between us. It's...it's not nothing."

Suki doesn't know what to say. She wants to help him, she hates that he's feeling cut up about this and she can't comfort him, but if he doesn't give her any details, there isn't all that much she can do. "Okay," she says, feeling like a chattering monkey.

She walks up and takes him into her arms. There isn't a lot she can do, but she can do this. "If it's important to you, it's important to me," she hears herself whisper.

Sokka relaxes after a few moments, breathing easier and holding onto her tightly. She squeezes once before dropping her arms, just as Zuko returns from behind the tree.

He scoffs at their embrace, quick as it was, but doesn’t say anything else. Again Sokka looks at him, averts his gaze when Zuko makes eye contact. Suki looks at him pointedly, until he sighs, putting his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “I’m going to bed.” He fake yawns, obviously exaggerates stretching his arms over his head. “I’m beat.”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Goodnight, Sokka.”

“‘Night Suki, Zuko.” Another round of blushing and averted eyes. Suki notices that Sokka doesn’t give her a goodnight kiss, but tries not dwell on it.

Zuko coughs. “Night,” he mumbles, and gives a stupid looking half wave. Suki snorts loudly, and Zuko throws her a dirty look behind Sokka’s back. He visibly exhales once Sokka disappears inside the tent.

“Well, that hurt to watch,” Suki says. After half a week of traveling with Zuko, she feels comfortable rubbing him a little. He sends a blast of fire at her from his mouth, but she can tell it won’t reach her, doesn’t have the bite. “Fuck off,” he mutters, leaning down to crouch in the dirt.

Suki starts the business of building a fire, leaning small twigs together to make a teepee and adding some dried grasses to the pile. “I can’t exactly ‘fuck off’ when my prisoner has some secret history with my boyfriend,” Suki snaps, harsher than she’d meant to. Her own vitriol pulls her up short. Maybe this is weighing on her more than she’d thought it was.

Zuko surveys her from his position on the ground. “Sokka didn’t tell you anything?” He says dubiously.

Suki shakes her head, pulling her spark rocks from her pack.

“Well, then I won’t either,” Zuko answers brattily, getting quickly to his feet. “Do I get a tent, tonight?”

“Your loyalty to my boyfriend is commendable,” Suki grouses. She’s frustrated, and the spark rocks keep jumping in her hands; she can’t get the damn thing lit. “And did you get a tent last night? No, you’ll sleep under the stars again.”

“Great,” Zuko says, sending a distrustful look at the ground, the woods surrounding them. When Suki fails to light the fire on her fifth attempt, he loses patience.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he snarls, then sends another spurt of flame from his teeth, this one landing on Suki’s twigs and setting them merrily alight, crackling happily.

Suki leans back on her heels. “Thanks,” she says, surprised.

Zuko seems taken aback at her gratitude. “No problem,” he mumbles, reaching up to scritch at the back of his head.

Suki wants to thank him further, or in a way that won’t make him uncomfortable. She thinks back to his alarmed look into the dark trees surrounding them, “I can protect you, you know,” she says, unprompted. He gives her a quizzical look. “At night, I mean,” she clarifies. “You don’t have to worry about sleeping out here. I’ll keep you safe.”

He observes her silently for a moment. “I suppose that’s true,” he says quietly.

More silence between them as Suki adds a few bigger branches to the fire. She can hear Sokka’s loud snores from the tent.

“Are you hungry?” When Zuko gives a tentative nod, she rummages in her pack for two apples. “Here,” she walks over to Zuko, but when she tries to hand him the apple, he holds his hands away. “Wait—“

Suki persists, putting the apple into his hands. “Don’t you—ouch!”

She pulls back, hissing in pain. She’d accidentally touched Zuko’s manacles while handing him the apple, and the metal had burned her.

“Were you trying to escape by melting the cuffs?” Suki demands, sucking angrily on her burnt fingers.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, unapologetically, and in retrospect Suki would have tried the same in his position. The betrayal still hurts more than it should, so she sticks her nose in the air. “Well, they’re melt-proof. Sokka’s one step ahead of you.”

“Sokka invented these?” Zuko asks, examining the manacles with admiration. “I knew he was an engineer, but that’s… impressive.”

Suki nods slowly. She doesn’t know what she feels, except that she’s proud of Sokka, too. “Yeah, they have a higher boiling point than your fire can reach, or something like that.”

Zuko remains quiet. "He makes good tech for you guys. For someone from the Water Tribe," he tacks on, to cover himself, but Suki can hear the admiration leaking from his tone.

Not that it's enough to negate his outright racism. "He makes good tech period," she says with force. And strangely enough, Zuko doesn't put up a fight. "He makes good tech period," he intones quietly, and his acceptance has her putting her guard up, giving him strange looks.

He meets her eyes resolutely, until she has to look away. They remain in silence for a few more minutes, before he coughs awkwardly. "So how...how did you and Sokka meet?"

Suki whips her head up at that, scrutinizing him. Is he mining her for information? Trying to make an escape plan? What's his game?

But Zuko...well, he doesn't look like an enemy agent trying to make a play to evade capture. He looks, well, he looks like a teenage boy with a crush.

The image of him in Suki's mind takes shape, rises up from the dossier she and Sokka had compiled on him after they'd gotten screwed. He fills out, becomes a person with a past, as Suki imagines tiny, baby-gay Prince Zuko. Can you let puberty hit you hard, punch you in the gut when you're the Crown Prince? Do you get the chance to be an awkward, gangly, love-struck teen when you're next in line for the throne? Are you allowed to have stupid, imagined boy crushes?

No, she realizes with a jolt. No, you can't have boy crushes. Not if you're a boy. Not if you're in the Fire Nation.

A familiar cloud of desperate loneliness seeps through her brain as she reimagines Zuko as a queer person in hiding. She's heard this story so many times before, it isn't hard to puzzle piece Zuko into it. If she looks hard enough she can see the weight of it there now, the suppressed childhood self you carry with you. A mode of invisibility, achieved or not, that never goes away.

Abruptly Suki is grateful for her life on Kyoshi Island. As hard as it was, as awful as it was to lose her parents at such a young age, she never had to hide herself there. She could always be that part of herself unapologetically.

Suki looks at Zuko with new eyes, gathers this new personal history around him like a cloak. He isn't asking about Sokka because he's planning something, he just has a crush on him.

She takes a deep breath. Someone has a crush on her boyfriend. Specifically, someone who may or may not have had some… experience with him in the past.

Suki wrinkles her nose. Someone who might have hooked up with him, she says in her mind with force. She isn't in the business of being dishonest with herself.

Someone who might have hooked up with him has a crush on Sokka in the here and now. Someone who's still interested.

The thought floors her, and for a moment she's reeling, unsure of what to do.

Well, doesn't everybody have a crush on Sokka? she argues with herself. It seems like everyone they come into contact with, girl or guy or in between, leaves Sokka feeling a little breathless. He just has that effect on people. She can't help but smile to herself now. Toph, that Ty Lee girl who used to run with the FNIA, even Aang. Sokka just enchants everyone who meets him, his smile ensnares them like fish. How can she fault Zuko for being blinded by the same force that trapped her?

And doesn't she trust Sokka? He'll fill her in, she reminds herself, he'll tell her what's going on, because he can see that it's bothering her and he's considerate like that. She'll just tell him she can see that whatever went on between him and Zuko isn't exactly dead and dormant, and she just wants to know where he stands. She and Sokka are partners, they're in a good place and they try to take each other's feelings into account. They'll figure this out.

So what's the harm in giving Zuko a bit more information? Well, there might be some harm to the Federation, but she's smart. She's careful. She can do this without putting herself and her mission in danger.

She wants to tell him, she realizes, because she wants to let him live out his gay crush. She doesn't know his life, doesn't know the sum total of his experiences, but she can guess. And the queer part of her recognizes the like parts of him and wants to reach out and connect, insists that they are the same. The queer part of her sees and knows the queer part of him, and wants to give him this.

So she shoulders her distrust and says "We met a few years ago, before I was officially in the Federation. He came to my home island as part of a stopover on a mission, and a few months after he left I joined up myself."

Zuko nods slowly. "Kyoshi Island, right?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Suki pauses. "He was kind of an asshole when I first met him, actually."

He raises an eyebrow. "What, really?"

"Yeah," she chuckles. This might be unfair to Sokka, but what the hell. Zuko asked. "He got upset when I kicked his ass in training, but then came around and actually learned a bit of our technique."

Zuko bites on his lip. "I've seen you fight, you're a Kyoshi Warrior. I wouldn't be embarrassed to lose to you," he says begrudgingly.

"Oh." That's… not what Suki had been expecting, and she curses her cheeks for flushing like a schoolgirl's. "Um, thank you."

"Not a compliment, just a fact," Zuko says quickly, and Suki rolls her eyes. "Fine, no thank you."

They sit in silence, Suki poking the fire to make sure it keeps blazing. "Do you miss it?" Zuko asks suddenly.

"Do I miss what?"

"Kyoshi Island." Ah. Every day.

"Yes," she whispers suddenly, letting the night steal her admission away. "I know the work for the Federation is important," I know the work of stopping your father is important, she adds in her head, and is sure the thought lies between them, "and getting to travel is cool, but I… I miss my home. My people."

Zuko nods, but Suki finds she isn't finished. "I'm sort of… the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. I miss them." She checks herself, tries to be polite. "Do you miss home?"

"No," he says shortly. Right. An awkward pause that she desperately tries to fill. Surprisingly enough, it's Zuko that puts them out of their misery. "What do you miss from Kyoshi Island?"

Memories well up in her chest, roll across her tongue. She doesn't really talk about this with Sokka, she knows he misses his home in the Southern Water Tribe just like she misses hers, and doesn't want to bring up the concept of hearth and family where she can avoid it. But…

"The food," she says instantly. "Best parts of the Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom, at least according to my Dad. Steamed buns and salty seaweed." Her mouth waters just thinking about it.

She swears she sees Zuko flash a smile. "Is your family still there, then?"

"I have an aunt that's still there," she hedges. The full truth will inflame her, stick pins behind her eyes and make fat tears she doesn't want to cry leak out. Will make her hate the man in front of her, which is justified but won't help their situation.

There you go again, denying yourself, a very teenage-sounding voice. When are you going to let yourself get mad?

Everyone's mad, she mumbles in her head. Everyone is fucking furious. What good will dwelling on it do?

But it's his fault, the voice hisses. He took them from you!

Suki wants to stuff her fingers in her ears, wants to roll into a ball, wants to scream. She realizes she's missed something Zuko said. "What was that?"

Zuko clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I said, there's nobody else?"

"What do you care?" she shoots back, before she can stop herself.

"I don't," he retorts swiftly, eyes blazing. "I'm just trying to be nice!"

Suki fixes a blank look on her face, watches the fire in Zuko's eyes dim, getting smaller and smaller, until he actually hangs his head. "Sorry."

Suki nods, swallows over the lump in her throat. She's barely in control herself.

"Is there--"

"They're gone!" she spits at him. The little girl she was when she lost them bursts out of her. Her chest heaves, her eyes run, and she feels herself shrink into a twelve year old abruptly left all alone. "My parents, my sister who was the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, they're gone! They fought for our Island when your father suited up the Southern Water Tribe and sent them knocking on our door, when he decided to spark a fight between two cultures who were already dirt poor and reeling after the war and the payments they had to make in the peace agreements! I lost my family in the only battle for fifty years, because Fire Lord Ozai was feeling powerful and wanted to show off!"

Suki snaps her mouth shut, closing her teeth over anything else that might escape. She stands up, walks a few paces away from him. Tries to do some of the meditative breathing she taught the younger Warriors. Listens for Sokka's breathing. Tries to use it to ground herself. She doesn't want him to see that she'd broken, that she couldn't control herself.

She hears fire crackle behind her and whirls around, fan open in one hand and arms up in a defensive stance. Zuko rocks back on his heels from where he's crouched over the fire, hands up in a defensive gesture. "Sorry, the fire went out," he stumbles over his words in his rush to get them out of his mouth.

Suki surveys the fire, drops her hands. She can feel tear tracks on her face, but she doesn't want to draw attention to them by wiping them away.

"I'm sorry, about…" he trails off. "We were wrong, to have done that. I know that doesn't take it away, but." Zuko hangs his head again. "I'm sorry."

Suki stares at him. He isn't just saying this, or at least, she thinks he isn't. He's proven himself to be a terrible liar. Something in her chest is telling her he means what he says.

What does it mean when the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation proves himself to be capable of some critical thinking, not just another warmongering zealot? When he apologizes? Suki has fuckall idea, so she files it away for later. A queer Fire Nation Prince who apologizes. This makes things… complicated.

In there here and now, she catches his eye. "Okay," she says, then turns around and opens her other fan, begins moving through a meditative warmup and then a few real fighting forms. She needs to work something out of her system, clear her head.

The slow warmup forms do their job, and by the time she moves into the real work she feels much calmer, more centered. She focuses on what she's doing for the joy of doing it. Suki loves being a Kyoshi Warrior, finds endless beauty in their powerful, unique fighting style. She puts real force behind her movements, even though her fists and feet only meet air. She breathes deep, feels more in control.

And she feels Zuko's eyes on her. It's a quiet thing, the knowledge of his stare, but it grows as her anger subsides, taking its place in her head. The forms are routine enough that she has some leftover space to think about it, to chew on his attention, and she realizes she doesn't feel threatened by it. Doesn't see Zuko as a real threat, at least for this moment. But what does he see?

She knows what he sees. A powerful warrior, a dangerous opponent. Suki knows who she is.

But what does he think? It's this question that burrows in her mind, sets something alight in her belly. There's something about the… the performance of it that's putting her on edge in the best way. She puts even more power behind her movements, wanting to seem strong and supple, and then criticizes herself for wanting to seem so, and then tries to cut herself some slack. Thinking about it makes her confused, makes her slow and still her movements. Instead she lets herself bask in his gaze. Who doesn't like attention? Who doesn't like being admired? It's not like she has to do anything about it. And Suki can smell his admiration from here.

When she finally finishes her exercises, she looks over at him and realizes he's laying with his back in the dirt, eyes on the stars. She tries not to be too disappointed.

"You're pretty comfortable there for someone who's Fire Nation Royalty," Suki says instead, walking back over to him. And when she gets close enough to see his face she realizes his eyes may be on the stars, but his cheeks are flushed. Satisfaction licks at her insides.

It's his turn to roll his eyes. "I haven't been pampered in the palace my whole life, you know," he says, but his tone is so much that of an arrogant prince it almost doesn't matter.

"Really." Her tone is all skeptic disbelief.

"I lived in a crapbox apartment in Ba Sing Se for two years," he shoots back at her, then realizes what he's referred to and closes in on himself.

"When you met Sokka, right?" she says, even though it's obvious.

He nods. She, in a moment of profound inner strength that she's definitely going to tell Sokka about, respects his stupid loyalty to her boyfriend and steers the conversation elsewhere.

"Why did you go there?" she asks him.

"My Uncle wanted to go there," he says in a soft voice.

Suki wrinkles her brow in confusion. "I didn't know your father had a brother," she says in a confused voice.

Zuko purses his lips, and Suki realizes he doesn't want to tell her. But she wants to know, and so, without even thinking about it, she puts on her Sokka Voice, tries to mimic his way of talking.

"Come on, after all that?" she gestures behind her. "You can tell me."

And it works, because Sokka connects with people. He always has. But she can do it, too. All she has to do is think like her dumb boyfriend.

"He defected," Zuko whispers softly. "Used to work for the FNIA, like everyone else in the Royal Family, but he didn't like it, so he left." He shakes his head. "Not that it ended up doing him a lot of good."

Suki cannot, entirely, turn the mission part of her brain off, and so the coldest, most calculating part of her quietly affirms that everyone already knew the FNIA was an offshoot of the throne, he hasn't betrayed himself.

She tries to put the softer side of her heart into her mouth. "And you wanted to try that on for size?"

Again, an evasive expression, a withholding curve of the lip. "Yeah," he says finally. "Well, I didn't really have a choice. I was sent away, after--" he waves a hand in front of his face.

Suki nods. "A bad accident can mess anyone up," she says generously, and finds herself faced with a weird look. Like she's missing something. But Zuko keeps silent, and Suki feels generous enough to let him keep this secret to himself. Whatever he's skirting around feels big.

"Makes sense that people don't know about your Uncle, though," she says after a moment, trying to bring him back to safer ground.

He nods, but he still looks uncomfortable. He isn't telling her everything, and she finds she wants to lead him away from this apparently sensitive subject.

"Your Dad's still an asshole," she says, trying to steer herself back to what she knows.

To her surprise, Zuko laughs bitterly. He closes his eyes, brings his hand up to touch his scar softly. "Believe me, I know."

Suki's stomach drops. She's never been great at reading people, but Zuko is an open book, and she can't ignore what's right in front of her. His dad did that to him? To his own son?

"Zuko, why don't you leave, then?" she says before she can stop herself. "You don't have to stay, not with someone who… who did that."

He wears a surprised expression. "I already told you, I left once before."

Suki doesn't understand. "But why did you go back?"

Zuko doesn't look at her, moves his gaze to the ground. "My father… he said he needed me…"

"Needed you to do what? Run more horrible missions for his greed, secretly destroying the other nations so he can have power?"

"It's not that simple, I can't just turn my back on my family." She can see him getting agitated, but can't seem to stop pressing him on this.

"But they hurt you!" She thinks for a moment, finds the solution to a question that's been niggling at her for the past twenty minutes. "Is that why you didn't try to burn through the manacles earlier?"

"Shut up!" he roars, and Suki prides herself on not flinching. "It isn't so easy, they're my family, my people, I can't…" he trails off, finally meets her eyes. "I can't just walk away."

Suki holds his gaze steadily. "Okay. But it sounds like you're involved with something you don't want to be a part of." And it looks like Zuko doesn't have an answer for her, because he rolls over onto his side. "I'm going to sleep."

Stellar deflection, she wants to say, but keeps it to herself. "Goodnight." She spends the rest of her shift listening to the way Zuko's breathing never quite evens out.

Chapter Text

The day after their awkward conversation while she'd kept watch during the night, Suki approaches Zuko with a long length of rope. He looks up from what he's doing as she walks over.

(What he's doing is nothing, idly letting a single spark hover over his hands, tracing it's way up and down the sides of his fingers. Not a whole lot else he can do while being held captive.)

"Sorry about this," she says, gesturing to the rope with a grimace, "but I'm prioritizing my relationship over your momentary discomfort. Sorry."

Zuko has just enough time to think what's going on before she strikes him in the solar plexus, a quick jab that sends the breath out of his lungs and his torso slumping uselessly over his knees. She grabs the chain of his manacles, yanks it high over her head so his arms are stretched uncomfortably skyward, and walks him backward, pinning the chain to a tree behind him. Zuko hears, over his own labored breathing, the snick of the chain catching on a pin.

"Watch out," Suki says casually, then grabs a hammer from the ground. Zuko ducks his head instinctively and she strikes the pin hard, giving it one or two upward blows with the hammer. In a moment of blind panic, Zuko pulls hard against the pin, but it's too late, she's already bent it out of shape so the manacles can't slip over it. She steps back, surveying her handiwork while Zuko struggles to catch his breath. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than twenty seconds.

"Told you I didn't need any help!" She calls over her shoulder, and Zuko can hear Sokka yell something muffled from the woods. "We're going to have a chat," she says to Zuko while she takes the rope and binds his waist to the tree. Her voice belongs to a friendly conversation over coffee. Zuko has a sudden vision of the tea shop he'd briefly worked in, of the first day he'd actually seen Sokka and Suki. He'd known who she was, had a file on her training history, but even so he'd dismissed her as nonthreatening. He laughs to himself, amazed at his own poor judgment.

She and Sokka are going to have a chat, she'd said. "Okay," he says listlessly, and she rolls her eyes. "We're having a chat so you and Sokka can have a chat," she explains meaningfully, and Zuko's eyes go wide without his permission.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Thought you'd like that," she adds, then steps in close to check his bounds and suddenly she's all he can see, hear, and smell. Suki rises up on her toes, places a hand on his elbow to get her balance, and suddenly Zuko has trouble swallowing. "Not embarrassed to lose to you," He coughs out weakly, an echo of their conversation last night, and then he has the unique pleasure of watching her face color from practically touching distance. He could lean down and kiss her red cheek.

Suki inhales sharply, removes her hand from his elbow and takes several, deliberate steps back. "Bold of you to flirt with a woman who's just tied you up," she says, smoothing down her shirt.

Zuko ducks his head again, all embarrassed, but maybe he is feeling bold, because he adds "and not tied up in a fun way."

She smiles all the way to her hairline, and shakes her head. "Back in a jiff," she says cheerfully, then walks toward Sokka into the treeline.

Zuko doesn't bother wasting energy pulling against the chain, it's not worth it. On principle, he sends a breath of fire rippling down towards the rope at his waist, and isn't surprised to see that it doesn't burn. They're good, Sokka and Suki. He and Mai might have managed to pull one over on them, but from his time with them so far he can tell that it's rare that they lose.

Well, what the fuck is he supposed to do now? He shifts against the tree, rubs his wrists together. Tries not to think about whatever they're talking about, does anyway. He's always been prone to overanalysis, even when he isn't involved.

They're having a chat, huh? What does that mean?

It means they're talking about him, duh, a voice that sounds very like Azula's says in his head. They're talking about him. That's why they went through all the trouble of tying him to a tree. They're talking about him.

They could be talking about Federation stuff, he argues with himself. That would be the smart thing to do, come up with a plan for him, for their prisoner. But that's unlikely, what with the way Suki had wagged her eyebrows and promised something in store for Zuko later. They aren't discussing mission details.

(Besides, it's not like they need an in depth plan for what to do with him. Hike back to headquarters, drop him at the feet of whoever's in charge. Turn the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation over to the Anti-Fire Nation Agency. Done and dusted.)

He should figure out an escape plan, he thinks. The thought's been ringing like a bell in his head since he'd went and gotten himself captured, although it's been growing fainter and fainter. He reminds himself of the fireproof manacles and rope. No way out of this one.

(This isn't true. He's been leaning on the manacles as an excuse, but he could find a way out, if he really wanted to. Zuko can trick Sokka or Suki into taking them off him, or even do it the easy way and break his pinkies, like he was instructed to in training. He could get out of the manacles. He could escape.

So why doesn't he?)

Zuko shakes thoughts of escape out of his head. He's got much, much more pressing things to think about. Sokka and Suki are talking about him. About what happened between him and Sokka.

It's good that someone's talking about it, he thinks after a moment, because he and Sokka sure as hell aren't.

… maybe they will, after this? Maybe, that's what their conversation is about? Maybe Suki will… give them her blessing?

Is that what they're talking about? Well, what else could they be talking about? he argues to himself. There isn't a whole lot of other things concerning Zuko they could discuss. And a conversation where Sokka explains what happened between him and Zuko and then leaves it at that isn't much of a conversation. At least, not a conversation that would lead to other… conversations. Between Sokka and Zuko. Which is what Suki had implied.

Sokka must be asking Suki if she'd be okay with…

Come on, Zuko wills himself, come on. Finish your thought.

… with something happening between him and Sokka.

Fantasies spring to life in Zuko's head, like the small bursts of flame he calls to light in his palms. He hurriedly pumps the brakes.

Would Suki be okay with it? Zuko remembers Uncle vaguely telling him that some people had multiple partners, back when he tried to convince Zuki it was okay for boys to like boys. Would Suki be okay with her boyfriend having multiple partners?

Zuko thunks his head against the tree. What is his life even. Is this what it's come to, hoping some Kyoshi warrior peasant will let him tongue a boy from the Southern Water Tribe?

He shakes his head at himself. That was the past talking, an old nobility racism that his Uncle was keen to change in him, once he had Zuko away from Ozai's influence. One of the changes he'd gone through with his Uncle that he's actually grateful for. He doesn't think that about Suki, or Sokka, not anymore.

… but he does want to kiss Sokka, again.

Zuko tests out the thought in his head, leans into it. He does want to kiss Sokka, again, he thinks, a soft smile playing around his lips.

A horrifying thought: what if Sokka isn't into him anymore? He's made a lot of assumptions, a lot of assumptions as he'd been doing somersaults in his brain. He'd just assumed Sokka was still… interested. What if that isn't the case?

Well, what the hell could they be talking about if that isn't the case, Zuko thinks angrily to himself. A conversation in which Sokka isn't interested and doesn't mention anything about what happened between them to Suki because it doesn't matter isn't much of a conversation. Sokka has to still be into him. That's why they're talking at all.

Maybe he is going to get to kiss Sokka again.

His heart takes flight for a moment, imagination erupting. Will he and Suki decide that they're in some kind of open relationship? Can he be with Sokka again?

What will he do if they say yes?

His blood runs hot as he fantasizes getting to… to be with Sokka, again. To kiss him, the only boy he'd really wanted to kiss more than once. What it would be like to exercise that muscle.

He's going to kiss Sokka again, he thinks wildly, grin spreading itself across his face. He's going to kiss a boy again, he hadn't done that in ages, the only person he's kissed since Ba Sing Se is--

Mai slides into his mind, slick as oil, and his fantasies grind to a halt. Mai. He can't, he can't do that to her. They're still together, even though he's gotten himself into some hot water. She's still his partner. If he wants to be with her, he can't be with Sokka.

Does he still want to be with her?

He dismisses the question after half a moment. Of course he does, of course he still wants to be with Mai. She's, she's his person. They're in it for the long haul, he's sure of it. Mai's one of the few people he feels understands him, really understands him. And understands his world, and the people who populate it. His complicated family situation. He feels safe around her, he loves being with her, loves her, is so grateful she's with him. He can't give that up. He won't give that up.

(A small part of him quietly says he feels pretty safe around Sokka and Suki, but he silences it.)

(Another small part of him reminds him that Mai understands a lot about him, sure. But not all of him.

But not the parts that have led him here, dreaming about being with another boy.

He flicks the thought away.)

Of course he still wants to be with Mai. She's, she's home to him, after he left Uncle. Sometimes it feels like she's all he has, the only thing holding him up. Of course he still wants to be with her.

So he can't be with Sokka. He'll choose Mai over Sokka, every time.

He'll choose Mai. He's choosing Mai. So he can't be with Sokka. What they had is finished.

After a moment's reflection, he decides he really doesn't want to think about that, the end of probably the last chance to explore being a faggot. Zuko casts his mind around for something else to focus on.

He could plan an escape. Find a way back to the FNIA.

Yeah, no.

He tries some meditative breathing, spends a few minutes shooting fire blasts from his mouth to see how far they can go. But, primarily, in his quest not to think about Sokka, his brain is occupied by Suki's accusation. That he was flirting with her.

… was he? Does that make him… interested?

One thing at a time, he tries to tell himself. Does what he said technically count as flirting? Zuko can feel himself make a face. He's always been shit at this. Mai used to make fun of all the time for needing obvious 'flirting' conversation markers, like, say, a bat to the face. He can flirt, and sometimes is known for laying it on too thick, he just never knows when to, and needs a very, very obvious sign to tell him.

'Not embarrassed to lose to you.' Is that flirting? Zuko labels that as a maybe. By itself, it seems pretty innocuous. But when he considers the blushes dripping from both his and Suki's face, well. That tells another story.

Zuko groans, thunks his head back against the tree again. Who is he kidding, of course it was flirting. 'And not tied up in a fun way?' Come on. It was flirting because he's interested, because the spirits didn't think it was enough to have a crush on the girl's boyfriend. They went and added the girl, too.

Chagrin coats Zuko, crown of his head to the soles of his feet, and he feels several different kinds of pathetic. He tries to remember what Uncle told him about this in Ba Sing Se, before he ran sprinting from the room. This is normal, his Uncle had said, with a kind smile on his face. Young people have bodies, sometimes quite attractive bodies, and your body is noticing them. They might even notice you right back. It's nothing to be ashamed of.

It's nothing to be ashamed of, he repeats to himself, then gives in to temptation and recalls Suki training last night. In the privacy of memory he's free to stare openly, to focus and trace his eyes over her strong arms and delicate wrists. The way the muscles in her back bunch up, standing in stark relief. The thick muscles in her thighs, the gentle curve of her neck.

He finds his breathing has sped up. Spirits, he's so fucked. And she could fuck him up if she wanted to, could flay him out flat on his back and panting. Why is it he's always attracted to people fully capable of killing him?

His mind wanders to Mai again. He can't help but compare her to Suki. Where Mai hides, works to keep herself invisible, holds her weapons concealed in layers of clothing, Suki stands proud and open under the sun. Mai hides her fighting ability behind her womanhood, but Suki is a warrior and a woman all at once, holding both in one fist. She isn't loud, turning both up to eleven the way Azula does, but her presence is solid. After so much time with Mai, it's refreshing to watch Suki breath comfortably in both roles. Although there's always something deliriously sexy at watching Mai flash the fight in her, working away at her opponent as quickly and efficiently as possible. At unwrapping the fight in her when they're alone, all her knives and shurikens scattered on the floor.

Zuko puffs out his cheeks. This might be the most normal he's ever felt, just a dumb guy with two beautiful girls making his head spin.

Then Sokka and Suki appear from the trees. Suki's wearing a satisfied smile, and Sokka looks nervous. Zuko's heart ratchets up. Right. He's also a fag. Can't forget that.

(But looking at Sokka, maybe he doesn't want to.)

***

Sokka can feel himself grimace as he follows Suki out of the forest, towards where Zuko is tied up. "Sokka, can you like, smile at least?" Suki mutters to him. "Turn on the charm, remember?"

"Right, yeah," he agrees quickly, then tries to flash a smile. "Better?" Suki looks pained, shakes her head. "No." She grabs his wrist, stops them a few yards from Zuko's tree. "Just calm down, he's obviously into you," she gives him a playful smile. "He wouldn't shut up about you last night, anyway."

A real grin breaks out on his face, and Suki laughs. "There you go." She pulls him into a hug. "Just be yourself, it'll be fine."

"Okay. Thanks," he says into her shoulder, then pulls back to look her in the eyes. "Are you sure you're okay with it?"

Suki's eyes turn serious as she nods. "I told you, a lot of people on Kyoshi Island are with more than one person at a time, or raise kids together in groups of three or four people, especially the warriors. It's a partnership of communal living, it's part of my culture. Besides, I'd have to be blind to miss the way the two of you were ogling each other."

Sokka feels his cheeks heat. "So you've said," he grumbles playfully, then smooths his face out again. "You're the best."

She raps him lightly on the nose. "Don't I know it." Then she raises her voice, turns to address Zuko as well: "Okay, boys, I'm going to go gather firewood and sing loudly to myself over… there." Suki points in a random direction, traipses off again. "Have fun!"

Zuko's face is emotionless as she leaves, and it throws Sokka off his game. Come on, he's an agent, he says to himself. Of course he can master a blank face, but don't fall into that trap! You're not here to be an agent, you're here to have an open and honest conversation about your feelings, so be open! Put your emotions on your face!

Right now, his stomach is doing something that counts as a primary emotion, and he really doesn't want it to migrate to his face. He sticks a tentative smile on instead.

"Hey, Zuko," he says in what Suki swears is his most inviting and honest tone. He walks closer, tries to stand solidly and confidently a few feet away from him. Don't crowd him, he tries to remind himself, thinking back on his muddled memories of their time together in Ba Sing Se. He gets antsy when he doesn't have personal space, respect his boundaries.

He mentally congratulates himself for taking Zuko's needs into account. Man, Sokka is nailing this. "I think we should talk about what happened in Ba Sing Se, and what it means for us now. Is that okay?"

He holds his breath. This is a big moment, if Zuko says no, he doesn't want to talk about it, Sokka will obviously respect that but he'll transform into a shapeless cloud of misery and whiny what-ifs and be so un-fun and un-cool that even Suki might dump him. So it's sort of crucial that Zuko says yes here.

"If I say yes, will you unpin me?' Zuko deadpans, wearing a long suffering expression, and Sokka wants to just die.

"Oh! Uh, yeah, of course, I'll, uh, I'll get right on that!" Fucking fuck, his voice just shot up three octaves like he was an eleven year old who hadn't even earned his war paint. Sokka hurries over, trips over his own feet and almost ends up chest to chest with Zuko. Thankfully, thankfully, he throws out a hand to catch himself, holding his weight on the tree right by Zuko's head. It actually looks unbearably smooth, if you forget about the part where Sokka tripped, and Sokka, well. He just can't help himself.

He shifts his weight so he looks cooler, stands up on his tiptoes to take advantage of the half an inch he has over Zuko, puts on his most winning smile and says "So what's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?"

Somewhere, Katara is rolling her eyes.

"Waiting for you to untie me."

Ouch. Stake through the heart, that was. Sokka hears Suki cackle from somewhere among the trees, and uses his free hand to flip her off behind his back. She makes the harsh sound of a sea raven, and he knows she'll move further away to give them privacy.

"You don't know how to have any fun," he informs Zuko. He rights himself, picks up the hammer and uses the back of it to straighten the nail Suki'd bent. And if that means his biceps are right in front of Zuko's face while he manhandles the hammer, well, he isn't complaining.

Finally, Sokka manages the pin, and Zuko quickly brings his hands down, narrowly missing clocking Sokka with the chain on the descent. "Sorry," he says stiffly, side-stepping his way out of Sokka's space and putting some distance between them.

"No problem," Sokka says. He can feel his confidence stuttering at the way Zuko'd flown away from him, but he tries to press on anyway.

"You, uh, wanted to talk about Ba Sing Se?" Zuko brings a hand to the back of his neck awkwardly, and Sokka steals himself. "Yeah, I… I just want to make sure we're on the same page." He stops, wonders where to start. The tea shop seems as good a place as any.

"Did you actually forget who I was in the tea shop, or was that an act?"

"I, uh, I had forgotten," Zuko says sheepishly. "Sorry, we, we drank a lot."

Sokka laughs, more for something to do than out of real humor. "Yeah, we did," he agrees. He'd suspected that Zuko wasn't playing him in the tea shop, that he'd been as surprised to see Sokka as Sokka was to see him, and wasn't lying about not knowing who he was.

It still hurts, though.

Zuko must see it on his face. "But I, uh, I remember you now, though," he offers hurriedly.

Sokka's spirits droop. Zuko remembers him, but he doesn't sound happy about it. This isn't exactly going as Sokka'd hoped. "Do you remember… me fondly, then?" He winces at his own wording. Why can't he just be clear?

Zuko hesitates, and all of a sudden Sokka can't take it anymore. "Look, I...this is what I want to say. We hooked up, or made out, or whatever, in Ba Sing Se and even though you didn't remember, I haven't forgotten about and I'm… I'm still interested, okay?" He says quickly. Zuko looks taken aback, but Sokka presses on before he can lose his nerve. "I had… I had a lot of fun with you, and I think….I think you're special," spirits, is he some kind of school teacher? But Zuko colors deliciously when he says it, and he continues with new hope in his chest. "I think you're special, and I like you, and if you wanted to… to have fun again, I wouldn't say no."

There. It's not the smoothest he's even been, but he got his point across.

Zuko looks like he's in pain. "Sokka, I--"

"But if you don't want to!" Sokka shouts over him, unable to bear the look on his face. "If you don't want to, that's totally fine, we're not going to like, make you or anything, and hopefully we can be friends, and get through, uh...your confinement with, dignity," he finishes lamely.

"Sokka, I, I want to!" Zuko shouts, sounding strangled. "I, uh, I like you!"

Oh. Sokka's chest lifts, he can feel his shoulders straighten. 'I like you.' He can feel his confidence and charm come back in a strong wave. "You 'like' me, huh? Do you 'like, like' me," he says with a grin.

Zuko stares at him. "You are giving me whiplash."

"What can I say? You're cute and I like to move fast." He wishes he could feel like this all the time.

Zuko blushes, offers up a shaky grin. "I like you, but…"

But. Sokka deflates.

"But I'm with Mai, and I, I can't do that to her. We're not like you and Suki…"

Jealousy and outright misery stab him in the chest. That broody goth girl who almost killed him gets to be with Zuko, but not Sokka? How is that fair? Zuko's dark enough for two people, he needs someone light-hearted and fun, like Sokka. Sokka very nearly nods in agreement with his own inner voice, almost sticks a thumb to his own breast.

"I'm sorry," Zuko finishes, and by the looks of his face he means it. Sokka finds himself nodding. Okay, he can be an adult about this. He can, he repeats to his sister in his head. So the guy he has a crush on and also has a crush on him back (!) can't be with him because he's with someone else. Rotten luck strikes again. But it's okay! He can come up smiling, come up fists still swinging, can't he? Isn't this just what happened with Yue?

(Don't think about that.)

"I'm sorry, Sokka," Zuko rasps. Sokka's disappointment must show on his face, and we can't have that. He forces a smile.

"Hey, don't worry about it man, I understand. Things don't always shake out the way I want them to. I'm a big kid, I can handle it." He pauses. "At least I can say I'm flattered, right?"

And Zuko laughs at that. (And Sokka is pointedly ignoring the way his heart is fluttering. Fluttering. If only Katara could see him now.)

"Yeah, and I...I wouldn't hate, being friends--" he cuts himself off with a snarl. "Ugh, what I mean is, I told you a lot in Ba Sing Se, right?"

Now it's Sokka who has whiplash. "Uh, yeah, we talked about… about your Dad a bit," he reminds him.

Zuko goes stone faced, and Sokka's stomach twists. "Not anything that would give you away," Sokka adds, in case he's worried about this. "But, yeah, about that."

Taking a deep breath, Zuko says "right, but I don't… I don't regret telling you that. What I mean is, I liked talking to you about it, I think."

A soft smile grows on Sokka's face. What can he say, he likes it when he can be a good friend. When he can support people who need it. "I'm glad I could help." He sticks out a hand. "Friends, then?"

Zuko reaches out, and Sokka tries not to wince at the clink of the manacles. No relationship is perfect, right? And besides, from what Suki had said about their conversation last night, Sokka has an inkling that these chains won't be on much longer. "Friends," Zuko says, and they shake on it.

"Cool," Sokka says happily.

"So...if I had said yes," Zuko has a sly look in his eyes. "Would the cuffs have stayed on?"

It takes Sokka a couple of seconds to catch up, but when he does he almost wishes he hadn't. Is this going to be their relationship until they get to headquarters? Zuko sends out mixed signals with a sexy wink and leaves Sokka to deal with it on his own?

"I'm not answering that," Sokka says hastily, and Zuko laughs, loud and bright and beautiful, and Sokka almost keels over.

Fuck, he's so cute.

Well, whatever. Sokka can handle a little heartbreak. When they get back to civilization he'll lock himself in the apartment and with noodles and sweet rice buns and eat himself sick until he feels better, or at least until Suki forces her way in and confiscates the food supply. And that'll be that.

Sokka's treacherous gaze flicks to Zuko again, and the other man is still smiling, warmth sitting pretty on his face.

Sokka will just have to get over it. Yeah.

No problem.

Chapter Text

They don't even see the enemy assailants coming.

It's a stupid, stupid mistake on their part, a dumb lapse in judgment that Sokka doesn't have anyone to blame for but himself.

It's just… it's so alarmingly easy, being together, existing in the camp with Suki and Zuko. It's so easy, and bright; they've slipped into this simple, achingly light and breathy and fun air around each other, the three of them, almost as if by accident. But, it's so… Sokka has never felt this, this relaxed and unbound and… and like he doesn't have to do anything. He doesn't have to do anything. He wakes up and lists the tasks for the day, gathering firewood and making breakfast and lugging water from the creek and going into the nearest town to surreptitiously add to the food stores, and he sighs because the list is always long and he goes out of his tent and Zuko is stirring a pot on the fire, he points a hand at it to give more juice, and Suki is coming out of the forest with a pile of wood in her arms and they're both laughing, Zuko quietly and Suki louder, and they, they both look happier when they see his face and Suki immediately makes fun of him and his bedhead and Zuko snickers and Sokka…

And all Sokka has to do is laugh with them. Accept the bowl Zuko hands him. Take the firewood from Suki and store it under the tarp to keep it dry.

It's a weight off his shoulders he didn't know he was carrying. He can do this for a while, he finds himself thinking. He doesn't want this to end.

And yeah, the manacles look a little out of place on Zuko's wrists, and it just sucks that Sokka can't kiss him like he's been craving since they ran into him in the forests of the Earth Kingdom, since he saw him in the Republic City tea shop, since he met him in Ba Sing Se, but this is…

Even this is something else. If this is all Zuko can offer, the bittersweet company of his presence around the camp, his dry humor over dinner, Sokka will take it, gladly. He wants to live this intimately with him and Suki forever. He's never felt this relaxed. This calm.

Maybe that's why it's so easy for the FNIA agents to get the drop on them.

It's early morning. Suki sleeps in the tent, having taken the night watch, and Sokka and Zuko chat easily as Sokka prepares their first meal. Zuko is rasping a laugh at something Sokka has said, and Sokka's stomach has taken flight, as per usual when Zuko laughs, and then men and women clad in reds and browns appear in the trees, rappelling down from the high branches with weapons drawn, and some of them are shooting bursts of flame from outstretched fists, and holy shit, this is a firefight.

This is a firefight.

But Sokka isn't the most decorated warrior the Southern Water Tribe has seen in a generation for nothing. He draws his own sword in an instant, intercepts a woman fighting with dao and knocks her to the ground. She lets out a soft grunt as she hits dirt, and his eyes catch on the tiny orange flame decorating her headpiece.

As if Sokka needed the clue as to who he's fighting. His grip on the sword changes as he parries a blow from another swordsman. They begin fighting in earnest, but Sokka is better, obviously better, and he grins to himself as he prepares to make a clean cut across the man's right arm that will lower his ability by at least fifty percent, when he chances to look to the left.

And see an absurd amount of fire heading towards the tent.

With Suki still in it.

His concentration drops, and his assailant uses the opportunity to smack him with the flat of his sword, and stars erupt across Sokka's vision but he barely notices them, and his mouth is about to open in a horrified scream, when Zuko appears in front of the blaze.

Sokka is prepared to go right on screaming because Zuko in harm's way is, he realizes, hardly better than Suki, not really better at all, actually, but Zuko swings his leg up in a wide arc. Fire parts around his figure.

When the flames subside, Sokka sees both he and the tent have been spared, and he breathes easier for it. Zuko, still on one foot, leaps into the air, pushes both legs toward the FNIA clowns and sends a hot burst of fire rippling toward the assailants. He lands, pulls a backwards somersault, and Suki jumps over his crouched figure, begins raising hell with her fans. Sokka only has time to register his excited joy at Zuko's life-saving move (and his decision to fight alongside them! and how sexy he and Suki look together) when a blade aimed at his face focuses his attention elsewhere. As it does.

The fight is over quickly. The few agents Ozai sent are no match for the three of them working together. Well, it's really Suki and Zuko. Sokka held his own, sure, is pretty good with a sword in his hands, but he has no qualms admitting that his girlfriend is the muscle in their duo, while he's the brains. She'd beat his ass enough times to make him sure of that.

Sokka finishes up his end of the fight, sends another FNIA guy down for the count, then turns and is presented with a, frankly, gorgeous scene of the two people he'd most like to touch in the world absolutely beating the shit out of three other guys.

Suki and Zuko are outnumbered, and Zuko's hands are literally tied, but it doesn't seem to matter. He's able to do enough with his feet, bound hands, and mouth (and spirits, doesn't that just give Sokka dangerous ideas) to keep the firebenders off-balance. And Suki, of course, darts all over the place, jabs one man in the ribs and twists the woman's ankle in a way that has her grunting in pain, easily swings around a punch and kicks the man's feet out from under him. Suki and Zuko aren't working together, not exactly, but Sokka sees where they could, and possibilities swell up before his eyes, glowing bright and full of promise. The two of them could do so much damage, could hit the Fire Nation where it hurts and really make it hurt, and with Zuko's insider knowledge they could bring the whole war machine screeching to a halt, could end Ozai's dreams of world conquest here and now!

Head full of plans, Sokka waits for Suki to shoulder check the woman and send her sprawling, for Zuko to fell the last man with a vicious kick to the midsection. He walks over to them, practically skipping, as they survey their work with satisfied smiles. "Nice," Zuko says simply, and Sokka opens his mouth, grinning from ear to ear, when Suki interrupts him. She must see that his head is firmly in the clouds, because she gives him a warning look. "We need to get out of here," she says, gestures with her chin at six, no, seven agents on the ground, in various states of disarray.

Sokka almost grins wider. If they thought seven agents would be enough to extract Zuko, they had another thing coming.

Suki starts packing up the tent as quickly as possible, and Zuko moves to help her, but Sokka stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "I guess we can get rid of those, can't we?" he points to the manacles, grin still clear on his face, but Zuko wears a pained look, and Sokka's smile falters.

"Can't we?" he says again, but he's really asking this time. Behind him, Suki whistles, and Sokka pulls his gaze from Zuko's confused face to see Suki shaking her head. "You went too fast again," she whispers gently. Sokka holds that in his head for a moment. He realizes she's right and he mentally checks himself, forces himself to stop and slow down. His brain has a habit of moving too quickly, three or four steps ahead and then missing things like asking for permission. He vigorously shakes his head. Recalibrates.

"Sorry," he apologizes quickly, excitement dulled. "... but it would be faster if we took those off of you."

He glances over his shoulder, waits for Suki's nod of approval. Turns back to Zuko, waits for his assent.

"Okay," Zuko says, voice careful, and Sokka fishes the key out of his pocket. Zuko presents his hands, Sokka unlocks one bolt, then the other, and the forest holds its breath. The manacles clatter to the ground, almost hitting Zuko in the shin. Zuko rubs his wrists. Sokka bites his tongue. If he's guessed wrong, if Zuko's going to run, they just gave up the best asset the Federation has.

Zuko lifts his gaze to Sokka's. Their eyes connect, Sokka sees something complicated stirring there, and then Zuko moves his gaze to Sokka's right, giving Suki the same treatment over his shoulder. Then he moves past Sokka, who spins erratically in place. Zuko walks right past Suki, too, goes over to the tent and starts dismantling it. Sokka and Suki share a look. Sokka knows his face is full of excitement, while Suki's is more measured. Wait, her eyes say. Let him figure it out. Don't press him.

Sokka nods, closes down his own expression, and devotes all energy to packing everything up and getting out of there ASAP. With three pairs of hands, they manage everything in four minutes flat, and soon Sokka is leading them through the forest, moving at a slow jog. "You know," he says over his shoulder, but Suki cuts him off with a grunt. Not now. Sokka rolls his eyes but complies anyway.

They spend the rest of the day moving as quickly as they can, resting infrequently to put as much distance between them and the fallen agents as possible. Sokka cuts a winding, zigzag path through the trees, intending to throw anyone following them off their trail, but his destination is clear. Zuko is the first to bring it up.

"You're taking me back to Republic City. To the Federation Headquarters there." It isn't a question.

Sokka shares a measured look at Suki, who has her hands on her hips. "You didn't tell me that," she says accusingly.

"It's not my fault you're useless at directions," he answers childishly, but she isn't looking at Sokka anymore, she's looking at Zuko. Sokka copies her.

Zuko… isn't looking too good. His hands twitch between rubbing over his wrists, where the manacles used to be, and scratching lightly at his scar. When Sokka takes a small step toward him, he flinches, and Sokka freezes where he stands.

"You okay?" he ventures carefully, and Zuko nods vigorously. "Yeah, I… yeah."

Sokka nods. He doesn't believe him for a second. "So yeah, we're taking you to Republic City. Any intel you have on the FNIA could really help us out."

Suki makes a slicing motion over her throat, but Sokka glares at her, gesturing with his chin at Zuko. He's the one that brought it up, and anyway, this is a conversation they need to have.

His girlfriend passes her hand back and forth even faster, but Sokka ignores her, looking at Zuko again. "I mean, you helped us out back there because you're on our side now, right? You're gonna help us fight against the Fire Nation?" he asks, because that's what Sokka thought it meant.

"Sokka!" Suki hisses, enraged, and Sokka's grateful she isn't holding anything in her hands that she could throw at him. Meanwhile, Zuko grimaces, and fire springs to life in his palms. "I don't know, okay!" he shouts, anger roaring sudden and hot.

The anger takes Sokka aback. Next to him, Suki wears a look that says he got what was coming to him. "Look, you don't have to decide anything now," she says soothingly. "Let's go a little further, set up camp. Sleep it on," she advises, and Zuko nods roughly, shoulders his pack and sets off through the underbrush.

"What was that?" Sokka asks in Zuko's wake, and Suki rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot," she tells him, then jogs to catch up with Zuko.

Sokka throws up his hands. "Come on, what did I do!" he howls after her, trotting after them like some kind of pack animal.

It's only hours later, when Sokka and Suki are alone in their tent, that Suki clues him in. "He isn't sure about working against the Fire Nation. Against his father," she breathes quietly into the dark. They're lying underneath a blanket, Suki resting her head on Sokka's chest. Sokka can't help but snort.

"That's ridiculous," he informs her, feeling her answering sigh fan across his neck. "If he didn't want to work against his father, why did he attack his own agents?"

"Because he wasn't thinking about his father today. He was thinking about us." She turns her face towards him, a small smirk on her lips. "Can't you ever tell when somebody's into you?"

"No," he says flatly, but he's smiling despite himself. Zuko's into him, huh? And Suki, too?

"Don't expect anything to change," she advises softly. "His girlfriend hasn't disappeared, he's too much of a bleeding heart to drop her without at least letting her know."

Sokka raises an eyebrow at her. "You know him really well, don't you?"

Her face flushes in the night. "Yes," she says simply. "I care about him. Don't you?"

"Yeah," Sokka admits, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her closer. She snuggles into his chest. "So he likes us, but he might not be on our side."

"Right."

Sokka closes his eyes. Unconscious doubts that have been pressing on his heart take solid form and slide roughly into his throat. "He might run away," he whispers, voicing one of his fears. "We left him unbound, he might return to the FNIA."

He feels Suki sigh, shift her weight onto an elbow to look him in the face. He opens his eyes.

"I know," she says seriously. "I wanted to give him that choice."

Sokka nods. Me too.

She lies down again on his chest. "We might have just let the strongest asset the Federation has ever had run away into the night," she murmurs. They both go quiet, listening carefully in the night to see if they can hear any movement from outside, where Zuko's keeping watch. It had been another sign of trust on their part to let him take the first shift, but Sokka's almost a hundred percent certain he wouldn't sell them out.

He might leave them, though.

After a few moments of silence, they relax again. "Probably wouldn't be able to hear him, anyway," Sokka reasons.

Suki's body goes tense. "If he leaves, I'm going to lie to Pakku."

Sokka strokes her hair. "We'll see what happens in the morning."

What happens in the morning is Sokka and Suki come out of their tent, practically trembling in anticipation. There are a few moments of stillness, of mounting anxiety, and then there's a whisper of footsteps, and Zuko moves out from behind their tent where he'd been sitting. Sokka and Suki breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'll go with you to the Federation," he says seriously, and Sokka cracks a wide smile.

That's that, then.

***

"Your request is denied." Azula's voice rings out clear and cold in the small room, bites at Mai's insides. Mai closes her eyes as the words rock into her. She had expected this, had expected Azula to say no to her appeal for official resources to go looking for Zuko in the clutches of the Federation. Had spent about fifteen minutes preparing herself for a 'no' before she'd even left the apartment this morning. But Azula's nonchalant refusal still sends her reeling, mouth open in shock. For one horrible, long moment that stretches wide enough to envelope her completely, Mai feels tears well up. She blinks them away, furiously, denies herself the deep, shuddering breaths she longs to pull into her throat. She can't cry, she can't cry.

Breaking down in front of Azula isn't an option.

(She can't even go after him. She wants to scream in frustration, to cower in fear. What if something horrible has happened to him? What if he's already dead?)

She feels Azula's eyes on her, chases the thoughts out of her head. Forces herself to lock down her expression. Be blank, she hears Michi say in her head. Be blank. Show nothing.

Show nothing.

She raises her eyes to Azula's, face as still as a lake's. Azula doesn't buy it. She's expecting a reaction, some slip up from Mai, but she won't get one.

"Going after my brother would be a waste of your time," Azula continues, a cruel smirk around her mouth. "It's illogical to appropriate your skills and energy to recover so useless an asset."

It's bait. Azula's baiting her. She wants to see Mai flinch. She's expecting her to get angry on Zuko's behalf, to flex her loyalty to Zuko over her loyalty to Azula, to give Azula a reason to doubt her. To punish her. She wants Mai to flinch.

Mai won't. Mai knows better. Mai meets Azula's smile with studied indifference.

(She hates this. She hates the way Azula talks about Zuko, the way she and her father treat him like a useless dog who doesn't even know when to bark. Like he's an eternal problem, always doing the wrong thing, when he brings home just as many successful missions as she does. She wishes she could defend him, but sometimes she's just as trapped as he is.

She hates this, she's angry, and she's afraid. She wants her partner back.)

Her mother reaches through the anger and pain clouding her head. Think, Michi whispers in her ear. Think, listen. Observe. This situation is unique, you would do well to pay attention. Trace the lines of power. You hate the way she treats Zuko, and you are right. Azula's exercises of power over you are ego-driven, she outranks you. That she holds the key to Zuko's cage, that, by the order of the Fire Lord, the Princess outranks the Crown Prince, that is an anomaly.

They think he's a weakness, Mai answers her mother. She knows this. She knows her partner's sister and father walk all over him, wish he had never been born and tell him so. She knows Ozai wishes it was Azula who had the birthright.

They think he is a weakness, and in doing so they only widen their own weak spots, opening themselves up for attack. Pay attention. They bind him so strongly to their side, denigrate his spirit and make him out to be useless on his own, so that he believes he is too weak to leave them. Why?

Mai turns the question over in her mind. Because he already left once, she realizes. And when he did, they had to bring him back.

Exactly. They drove him away, but soon realized Zuko would be within his rights to stir up armed rebellion and take the throne from Ozai. And Ozai killing his only son after maiming him would be a poor political move. They need him here, where they can control him.

But he will still become Fire Lord, Mai thinks slowly. He will still have all the power. If he manages to keep some semblance of self once he is out of their influence, once Ozai is dead…

Azula will be finished, along with Ozai's dreams for the future of the Fire nation, Michi finishes. Ozai cannot name Azula as heir, not when he has a healthy, loyal son.

So we just need to wait for Zuko to become Fire Lord, Mai thinks, with some small relief.

The future of our nation lies with Zuko, Michi agrees.

And I believe in him, Mai thinks suddenly. He'll be a strong ruler, he'll shape the nation any way he wants it.

He will bring our country into a new era, Michi whispers. Mai finds she almost doesn't care about that.

When he's Fire Lord, we can tell Azula to stop controlling him, she thinks. We can tell her to fuck off. But why aren't they sending anyone after him, if Zuko's so important?

Look again, Michi says gently. Look at the Fire Nation Princess. Is she really so relaxed about this?

Mai picks her head out of the clouds, focuses her vision on Azula. The other woman has always been hard to read, but Mai's been studying for a long time. She finds her mother is right. Although Azula's gaze is clear, she drums her fingers on the table top, taps her foot impatiently. Such behavior is unusual from someone so disciplined.

She's worried. She wants Zuko back.

A flash of insight: if Zuko's gone, really gone, there will be no one to bear the brunt of Ozai's anger and frustration. There will be no black sheep, no one to shield Azula from her father's harsh judgment, steep demands of perfection. Azula's position is equally precarious.

They will send someone to recover him, Michi explains gently. Just not you. They worry the two of you will defect, their hold on you is not as strong as their hold on him. They send someone else.

Someone else will go after Zuko. Mai finds she can breathe a little easier. Someone will go after Zuko, even though she wants to be the one to do it herself. He'll be okay. Despite what Azula says, someone will recover him.

She'll see him again.

Breathe easy, Michi instructs. Finish this conversation.

With her mother's insight resounding in her head, Mai blinks, meets Azula's eyes again. 'So useless an asset,' huh?

I know you're lying, Mai thinks, feeling thick satisfaction lick its way up her spine. You're lying and you're nervous. How uncomfortable for you.

She keeps her eyes on Azula's, gaze empty. The two women stare at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Mai should drop her eyes first. She should let Azula win, but she finds she's too angry about leaving Zuko on his own, or maybe too fed up to play along. She keeps her eyes where they are. Finally, Azula's eyes move away from hers. A hollow victory.

"Besides, we need you to complete this mission." Azula hands over a file. "That is, if you can handle it," she adds with raised eyebrows.

A challenge. This is where Mai needs to get angry, she realizes, at this slight on her skills, on her ability to serve the FNIA. Ever the good soldier, this is supposed to offend Mai, at least according to Azula. The idea that she might not be useful to her country. Not anger at being powerless to help Zuko.

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. As if a show of loyalty from Mai matters now. Who cares how loyal she is to the FNIA, Mai's hands are tied. She wants her boyfriend back, he's with the Federation, her best shot at seeing him again is remaining with the FNIA until they bring him home. She is, once again, at Azula's disposal.

She controls if and when you'll be able to see Zuko again, Michi reminds her. I know, Mai answers, flush with sudden heat. I know she controls that, she knows she controls that, the whole fucking Fire Nation knows she's got my boyfriend under her thumb, and me right along with him. She has all the cards, and she has the satisfaction of knowing I know she has all the cards. Why isn't that knowledge enough?

She is a megalomaniac, like her father before her, Michi says.

No, Mai thinks, no she isn't. She's much less ego driven than Ozai, much more practical. This isn't her, this is something she saw her Father do and is trying to replicate, an Ozai behavior she's trying on for size.

How stupid. As if Mai has time or energy to spare for Azula playing pretend, playing dress up in robes much too big for her. This posturing, this show of power feels beneath her.

When did playing Azula's games get so boring?

Careful, Michi warns in her head. Don't get ahead of yourself. She could kill you for less.

Right. The stakes are always high with Azula. Mai just doesn't feel like playing anymore.

Mai tries to shake herself into the prideful anger of an arrogant FNIA agent, of a patriotic Fire Nation citizen, but it just won't come. Instead, she plucks the file from Azula's fingers. "I think I can handle it," she says coolly, skimming through the assignment. Information gathering, again. Her mother's lessons on invisibility are giving her quite the career.

As she reads through the document, she feels Azula looking at her. Again, she forces herself to meet her eyes. 'Is that all,' she nearly says, biting the words back from her tongue.

To her surprise, Azula's eyes are not quite as opaque as they should be. Mai can detect visible discomfort, even fear, running amok on her face. Mai quickly looks down. The stakes are high for Azula, too, she thinks. She almost feels sorry for her.

Azula clears her throat. Mai looks up at her again, sees the coldest, cruelest look Azula can manage laid out on her face. It doesn't matter. Mai knows it's a cover.

"Dismissed," she says, in the calm, vicious voice she reserves for people she especially wants to scare into submission. It might've worked on Mai in the past, but it won't now.

If you smile at her misfortune, she will cut your tongue out, Michi whispers in Mai's head. Bow and leave.

Bow and leave. Mai bends at the waist, turns and leaves quickly, smile lighting up on her face the second she has her back to Azula. She half expects to feel a long tongue of flame burn her from behind. But Azula won't do that, she realizes. Mai is too useful to maim.

Her smile widens. The seas of power are shifting beneath her, she can feel it. And she can make sure her and Zuko end up on top.

Chapter Text

"Wanna spar?"

It's early evening. Suki’s voice floats under the dusky clouds that cover the campsite. The sky is darkening, night falling fast, and the air is cool, scents of pine needles and sap leaking into the deep breaths Zuko pulls through his nose. He, Suki, and Sokka have just finished setting up camp, after another day of passing through the forests on their way back to Republic City. Zuko’s been puttering around, pitching the tent they’d bought him yesterday, helping Suki gather firewood, helping Sokka draw water from a nearby stream, and altogether trying very hard not to think about how much of a team player he’s being, and how much easier it is to be a team player without the manacles on.

It's been three days since Zuko defended Suki and Sokka, since he attacked his fellow FNIA agents. Three days since he’d thrown his lot in with Sokka and Suki. Three days since the manacles have come off.

He’s being, altogether, very careful with how he’s thinking about all this. “Joined up with Sokka and Suki” sounds a whole lot better than “defected from the Fire Nation and turned against his family.”

(It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be, leaving Father. Fear outstrips any loyalty Zuko feels towards Ozai, which he’d known for a long time, anyway. He examines himself, wonders what changed. What gave him the strength to leave.

Zuko thinks about earlier that day, when Suki had tripped Sokka and laughed enthusiastically as he lay sprawled out in the line needles, pouting. Yeah, he knows what changed.

You were looking for an out, anyway, he thinks to himself, in one of his more self-aware moments. You’ve been wanting to leave, ever since you came back from Ba Sing Se. You took a chance.

He took a chance. No, it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it’d be, leaving Father. Actually, it wasn’t hard at all.

What’s harder is his homeland. Maybe he’s being a patriotic sap, but Zuko has always loved his country.

Once, Zuko’d caught himself wondering if Sokka or Suki ever had these problems. If they’d had to turn against their Father, their family, their country, like he has.

You’re not turning against everyone. Not against Uncle, he almost thinks. At least not this time.

Yeah, not this time.

Have Sokka or Suki ever been in his position? He dismisses the thought as unproductive. Suki’s parents are dead, because of the very person he’s turning against, and that’s all he allows himself to think about. If he goes there, if thinks any more about the Fire Nation, his country, his people, he’ll turn around right now, for betraying them leaves a stone in his gut, thickens his blood until it threatens to stop flowing through his veins.

Leaving his homeland behind is hard. Azula is tricky, too. He’s leaving her alone, with Father. Without anyone to get between them, should she...fall out of favor. But, he reasons, that’s highly unlikely. She’s always been able to handle herself around Father, manage him and his expectations much better than Zuko ever could. It helps that she’s a firebending prodigy, excelling at something so near and dear to the Fire Lord’s heart. It also helps that Father loves her, he thinks to himself, and takes pride in how little that stings. Azula sits comfortable in their Father’s love and confidence. She will be alright.

She’ll do well as heir, a small voice whispers. Zuko carefully doesn’t think about that.

He also carefully doesn’t think about Mai.)

Three days since he’d decided what he’d decided and tagged along with Sokka and Suki on their way to, deep breath, the Federation headquarters, where he’ll…

He’ll sell out his country, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll give over FNIA secrets in the hopes of stopping this dirty war.

It’s a lot easier for Zuko to stomach if he thinks about it as selling out his father.

Not his country. Not his sister. Not Mai.

Actually, it’s a lot easier to stomach if he doesn’t think about it all. So he doesn’t. He pushes it out of his mind, focuses on the evening, the nightfall. The campsite, world away from what he’s coming from. From what he’s leaving.

The campsite. Sokka and Suki. Suki’s question.

What was her question?

Oh, right. “Wanna spar?”

Back in the here and now, Zuko focuses on Suki. She’s asked the question casually, almost like she doesn't care what Zuko's answer is, but Zuko can feel excited energy rolling off her body in strong waves. Her voice was loud, louder than it needed to be. Loud enough for Sokka to hear it across the camp, Zuko realizes. And Sokka definitely heard it, from the way he's gripping the sword he's sharpening with white knuckles, shoulders tight as he drags it across the whetstone. Zuko looks back at Suki. He's watching, her eyes telegraph, he's looking, and we can give him something to look at, can't we? We can give him a show.

The air around him shifts. He puts all thoughts of the FNIA and the people he’s left behind out of his head and considers the two people in front of him. Zuko thinks about sparring with Suki. About his first night with Sokka and Suki, when Suki had trained in front of him. About how supple and strong she'd looked, skin winking in the firelight.

Zuko thinks about how strong he could look, fighting alongside her. In a fight, at least, he knows what he looks like. He knows power and strength look good on him. Zuko knows his body, his first and most primal weapon, how it moves in combat. He has played with fire enough times to know what it looks like when it lights up across his cheekbones, over the shadowy muscles in his arms. He knows he looks desirable. He knows he looks good. The scar makes him look dangerous, and maybe he is. He knows he looks good.

Suki'd looked breathless flying around the space of the campsite on his first night, and he can enter that space right along with her and look breathless too. She'd invited him, after all. He could move around and with and against her body and look dangerous, too. He can let the light of the fire light up across his cheekbones, over the shadowy muscles in his arms. He can perform for her, like she'd performed for him. He can perform for Sokka, too.

(Zuko thinks about the surety of a fight. He may not know what side he's fighting on, but in a fight he always knows who he is. A Firebender when he's using his fists, a master swordsman with blades in his hands. His father may castigate him for not being a better bender, and he's no Azula, but Zuko can hold his own in a fight. He's the Crown Prince. He knows who he is.

He could use the certainty a fight brings him.)

Zuko thinks about the opportunity Suki'd just given him. To perform, to look dangerous. Imagines how he'd look in their eyes. Thinks about the opportunity to work off some extra tension. To let his muscles work themselves into hard won-aches. To work his brain into a stupor.

Wanna spar? Yes, he decides. He does.

He raises his eyes to Suki's, gives her a slow smile. The wolfishness of it seems to take her aback. Zuko likes it, he realizes. Likes surprising her.

"Yeah, I'll spar." His voice is low and gritted, he's sure of it, the kind of rugged that makes Mai—the kind of rugged that gets results. He watches both Sokka and Suki shiver, allows himself another smile.

Yeah, I'll give you a show.

He stands up, adopts a fighting stance. Goes so far as to beckon Suki over with his two fingers, a 'come hither.' She raises her eyebrows but comes willingly, dropping low into a protective form. They circle each other, eyeing one another up, before Zuko makes a move, testing the waters with a simple kick at Suki's midsection.

Her response is explosive. She rolls with the hit, falling to the right and swiping at Zuko's knees with an arching kick. Zuko dances backwards to avoid her leg, finds she's already behind him, aiming a blow at his upper back that nearly makes him topple over, unbalancing him.

He catches himself. They’d only fought for a moment, but already Zuko gets it, sees the whole Kyoshi Warrior fighting style laid out in front of him. He suddenly understands their philosophy, the way they've adapted their style to Waterbending from their proximity to the Southern Water Tribe and learned to turn their opponents' own energy against them. He tests Suki, goes for an obvious right hook. She dodges, goes for his shoulder, but he's expecting this and moves out the way, neatly throwing up a fist where her face ends up. She catches herself, backs away from him with a hard, assessing look in her eyes. Zuko can't help it; he smirks at her arrogantly, and she rolls her eyes, bringing her hands up again.

They trade blows for a while, not hitting hard enough to do any real damage. Suki leans hard on her Kyoshi roots, uses Zuko's momentum against him to counter the raw power that Firebending so often uses. He’s keeping the flames out to match her style, and honestly, Zuko’s having more fun without them. Zuko understands what she's doing, sure, but he's never seen fighting the way she's doing it. It's fluid and beautiful, and he suddenly wishes he could watch Suki fight someone else.

Her style is foreign, but Zuko's always been a quick study, and soon he keeps up with her, even manages to incorporate some of her moves into his own attacks. It's fun, it's almost enough to make him forget that this is a performance. That Sokka’s watching.

Almost. Zuko sneaks glances at Sokka as often as he can, catches Suki doing the same. He's absolutely riveted on their fight, watches them with his mouth hanging open. Suki laughs, a peeling, bell of a sound, and Zuko smiles, grunts as he flips away from her, landing flat on his palms to accentuate the strong curve of his biceps. He looks up at her, makes his gaze intense through his lashes, and Suki looks a little stunned herself.

It's for Sokka, sure, but it's also for Suki, Zuko realizes. It would be so easy to lose himself in their fight, in the thrill of skin meeting skin and sweat pouring into his eyes. And so he does.

The fight continues, the energy sizzling between Zuko and Suki doubles, triples, and then Suki does a spinning kick that looks so cool he has to try it himself. He nearly manages it, except he forgets to account for his extra weight and higher center of gravity, so he fumbles midair and nearly brains himself on a rock.

Except he doesn’t. Because Suki catches him, kicks at his feet to keep him off-balance, and holds him aloft by the back of his shirt.

She can lift you one-handed! his libido whispers in his ear, and his eyes widen, breath coming in short pants.

“You did that move on purpose, didn’t you?” He accuses, voice low and rough. "You knew I'd try it and get tripped up."

“Maybe,” she allows, and her eyes are pretty wide themselves. She’s caught up in it too, he realizes with a jolt, she’s totally wrapped up in whatever’s passing between them. He inhales sharply, mind full of what he could do next, of the possibilities, of where they can go from here.

He could kiss her. He could, her lips look soft and her body is strong and Zuko wants, he wants to kiss her. He's fought her, and now his body aches for something softer. He wants to kiss her.

Does she want to kiss him? He leans in incrementally, she matches him and his thoughts swirl. He could kiss her. He's going to.

And then she turns slightly to the side, eyes shifting so she can catch Sokka in the periphery. Zuko's breath leaves him in a rush. Sokka's watching, he can kiss Suki while Sokka watches.

Thinking of Sokka's gaze sparks something wild in his chest, with a groan he leans forward and presses his lips against Suki's. She responds immediately, dropping him so she can wrap her arms around him, fist a hand in his hair. He lands on his feet, groans louder, into her mouth this time, holds her flush against him and goes a little crazy, feeling the strong muscles in her legs pressed against his, in her back as he claws his hands up it.

They pant messily into each other's mouths, until a strangled cry from the other side of the campground pulls them apart. Suki rests her forehead against his, closes her eyes and breathes deeply. When she opens them again, she fixes Zuko with a dirty grin, before turning to her boyfriend. "You okay, over there?"

"You!" Sokka’s voice is warped and warbled. “You—!” He cuts himself off with a chuckle that sounds helpless. "You're not allowed to do that again!"

Zuko laughs, low in his throat, as Sokka does an about face. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a swim in the ocean! I want a wave to knock me flat and wash whatever the hell that was out of my head!”

“We’re in the Earth Kingdom!” Suki yells with her hands cupped around her mouth. “We’re miles from the ocean!”

“I could use the exercise!”

Suki and Zuko take one look at each other and double over laughing. He’d needed that, Zuko realizes belatedly. The distraction from his constant over-analysis of…of everything had been welcome.

Zuko takes a moment to collect himself, keeps his gaze to the ground. The kiss is still hot on his mouth. What does it mean, that he kissed her? Is he really interested in Suki? Does he want her as well, or was that just the thrill of being seen, of knowing he was watched and wanted?

He straightens up, meets Suki’s eyes, is utterly overwhelmed by the intensity and desire he sees there. His gut tightens.

So it wasn’t just performing for Sokka, then.

He lets out a breath. He might want Suki, but Sokka was right. They can’t do that again. One kiss, Mai will forgive him for, but she’ll see anything more as a betrayal, and rightfully so. Any potential he’d had with Suki ends here. With that kiss.

And he’s still with Mai, he realizes suddenly. His decision hasn’t changed that, hasn’t changed anything that matters. He’s still with Mai.

If...if she’ll have him.

Shaking off the thought, Zuko takes a step backward, deliberately puts some space between himself and Suki. Her eyes clear. She understands immediately, and lets go of any emotion in her face.

Zuko sighs in relief. She understands, she won’t press him over this.

Suki looks away, crosses her arms over her chest. She understands, but she’s not happy.

Zuko flounders. He abruptly doesn’t want her to feel bad, how can he fix this?

“I didn’t hate kissing you,” he announces loudly, then winces at his choice of words. But Suki laughs at him and his natural awkwardness, and her body relaxes. “I didn’t hate kissing you, either.” She waits for a moment; holds his attention with laughing, anticipatory eyes. “But I like kissing Sokka more.”

Zuko laughs quietly, inclines his head. Comes up with a joke of his own. It’s not often the stars align and allow him to be funny, but when they do, it’s often with a bang.

“Me too,” he admits, and Suki stares at him for a moment before whooping with laughter.

“You too, huh?” She gives him a soft smile, puts her hands on her hips. “And what are we going to do about that?”

Zuko turns his face to the ground, shoulders going stiff.

“What are we going to do about that?” She repeats, eyes searching his face.

He risks giving her a pleading look.

“You don’t know,” she murmurs for him. “Okay.” She turns away from him, and he aches for it.

What is he going to do about this? He doesn’t know.

***

"We have news about Zuko." Mai's back straightens of its own accord. Her hands jerk suddenly at Azula’s words, and she quickly hides them behind her back. The air in the FNIA headquarters suddenly feels too cold, too sharp. It whistles through her nose and stings. Her chest reacts to Zuko's name instinctively, heart thumping, body stretched so tight it practically sings at the mention of him. Her fingers clench into curled firsts, her shoulders shake, her heart jumps into her throat. The space behind her heart that is Zuko's, that is devoted to him, threatens to burn through her chest. We have news about Zuko.

Hope trembles through her so quickly she surprises herself. Azula has news about Zuko, Mai is here because they have news about Zuko. Before she can blink, before she can conjure up the familiar cynicism to protect herself, the hope shifts into certainty, and she’s suddenly convinced they’ve located him, that he’s already on his way back to her, that she’ll see him tomorrow, tonight. Tonight.

They have news about Zuko. Mai can’t help herself, a full, bright smile lights up on her face.

Azula raises an eyebrow. Mai barely has a second to register this omen, this crack in the crystal finish of her shining hope, before Azula pulverizes it.

"Your boyfriend went and joined up with the Federation," Azula says dispassionately.

Mai freezes.

Inhales sharply. The air in the room still stings.

Tries to swallow, can't.

She doesn’t understand. Can’t hold Azula’s words in her brain long enough to process them, they keep slipping through her mind as though it’s a sieve.

Mai tries to get herself to focus. Instead becomes absurdly aware of a spider fly buzzing around a filing cabinet over Azula’s shoulder. Of their own accord, her eyes detachedly follow its spinning path around its web.

“What?” She hears herself murmur.

“Zuko is with the Federation now,” Azula repeats. "He fought against the agents that went in to retrieve him.

This time the words stick, the realization hitting her like a truck. Her breath comes thick. Fast. Her shoulders shake. Stomach rolls. Vision goes blurry, sliding in and out. She feels as if she’s falling, wonders if her body tilts dangerously to the side. Wonders if she'll crash to the floor.

Zuko is with the Federation now.

He… left. He left the FNIA. He left her.

Her mind rebels. He wouldn't. He wouldn't, she argues with herself. Azula is lying. Azula always lies.

But why would she lie about this? another voice steals up. Mai's clever, too clever by half, and she can't let herself rest in the comforting falsehood even for a moment. She knows Azula has nothing to gain from this if she’s lying, from pitting Mai and Zuko against each other for the sake of manipulation. They'd never believe her lies, always trust each other first. Either she's telling the truth, or she wanted him out of the game so they caught him, pulled him from the field, and are keeping him locked away somewhere. Mai finds herself ready to search for him in an instant. She'll find him. She'll bring him home.

But that doesn't make sense either, she realizes quickly. He's too good, too good an agent to lose. And besides, they couldn't lock him away for long, the rumors would start. Ozai's reputation would be threatened. Azula's telling the truth

She's telling the truth.

He's gone.

A traitorous lump forms in her throat. Mai bites back a moan.

He's gone. He's gone.

"My brother is an obstacle that we now have no excuse not to remove." Azula looks at Mai, examines her. Mai can't read her, has no idea what's on Azula's face, no idea what's on her own. She's drowning, submerged in the keening loss of her partner. She feels her head dip below the waves.

From the depths, Michi appears.

Mai turns to her mother's ghost for comfort, but what she gets is practical advice.

Don't let her in.

Mai bats her away. Don’t let her in. You are being watched. You are being watched. Remember what I taught you. Have your cry later, where no one can see. Don't let her in.

The familiar words comfort her, anyhow. Mai takes a deep breath, lets the knowledge that Zuko is a traitor pass through her. Strikes out for the surface. Tries to compartmentalize so it doesn't cause any further reactions. She desperately wants to close her eyes, knows Azula will see it as an attempt to conceal something. She takes one of Zuko's deep, meditative breaths. Takes in the news, lets it settle in her stomach for later. Breathes out a calm facade.

She meets Azula's eyes with a steady gaze. Says nothing. Shows nothing.

"Together we will work to bring him in," Azula adds. Mai's brain is slow to catch up, but when it does her breath hitches, the sound thunderous in the small room.

Nothing else, Michi says desperately. Give her nothing else. Show nothing at all. Be blank. Be a reflection of what she wants to see. Show nothing.

Show nothing. Show nothing.

Mai takes a deep breath. Gets herself under control. Pulls together another steady gaze to meet Azula with.

Her eyes are empty, she knows. She's practiced this look so often it's become a second skin.

Azula knows this look, and although she can guess at what's underneath, she can't be sure. Her eyes are still searching Mai's face, a small smile on her lips.

Mai works to keep her lips from thinning. Steel resolve forms under her ribs, presses on her heart. Zuko wanted to leave, fine, fuck him. She can handle herself. She can keep herself afloat. Azula isn't getting shit else out of her.

(She doesn't mean that.)

"When do we leave?" she asks for good measure. Azula turns her back on her, the fun of manipulation over once Mai had surrendered to apathy. "Tomorrow. You're dismissed."

Mai's dismissed. Her resolve turns brittle, chips away. Despair returns in its wake.

Don't run, Michi cautions. Don't run away. Steady on.

Mai counts to twelve at random, before turning around. Replicates her own gait with difficulty, but manages. Walks in measured steps on an eight count out of the cramped meeting room, through the FNIA Republic City headquarters. Doesn't trust herself to blink, afraid of what she'll see when she closes her eyes. Counts her steps as she moves out into the street, onto a tram. Stands alone, still as a statue.

Soon, she reaches her stop, mechanically gets off the train. Counts her steps again, up the street, around the corner. Into her building. Doesn't blink, doesn't breathe, as she climbs the stairs. Fishes her key out of her pocket, lets herself in.

Alone again.

The water rises up around her.

She doesn't even manage to take her makeup off before she starts smudging it with her tears.

He left. He left. He's gone.

Her eyes alight on one of Zuko's books of poetry, lying on the table. Rage flashes, sudden and hot. She grips the slight book with two hands, pulls. The pages tear with a satisfying rip. She keeps going, ripping and tearing and pulling until every page is torn, until the floor is littered with snatches of poetry.

She picks one up at random. It's a haiku.

"I want to see

And to meet you

Stepping on the thin ice."

At the bottom of the page lies her name, in Zuko's hesitating scrawl.

Agony. The anger leaves as quickly as it came. Mai's shoulders cave in on themselves as she cries quietly. Or tries to. Tries to cry the way her mother taught her, but can't manage it, grief and anger and confusion cutting through the choke hold she has on her throat and sending great, heaving sobs echoing through the room.

He left. He left.

Abruptly, she can't take it anymore, opens her mouth in a wide scream. Let's out a wild, haunted sound. Does it again.

"You okay?" someone shouts back. It's Republic City, after all.

She doesn't answer, crams her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out again. He left. He left.

Somewhere inside her, a generous voice rises to the surface. He was in an abusive situation. He didn't leave, he escaped.

And left me in it! she shrieks back. Who's left to deal with his insidious sister now?

The thought sends gooseflesh breaking out over her arms, settles hard in Mai's stomach like a stone. She'll have to handle Azula on her own, now. How will she manage that?

She sinks to the floor, shivering. How will she handle Azula? How will Zuko leaving affect her? Azula always seems cold and calculating on the surface, but Mai knows there are parts of her that are volatile, reactionary. Those unknowns are what Mai fears the most.

She has to be ready, to anticipate how Azula will change. She has to have a plan, and at least four contingency plans after that one.

Mai tries to be analytical, even manages to force herself to get up and sit at her desk. To make a plan, a proper one, but grief keeps shouldering itself to the front of her mind, and eventually she gives up, slumps onto the table, eyes staring sightlessly at the wall of her apartment.

Does he even love her anymore? Did he even love her?

A horrible thought: Is he with the Water Tribe boy?

Oh fuck. Oh, fuck.

He was captured by them, she knows. Is he still with them? Was he spotted working with them? She needs the report from the fight. She needs to know who saw him, what they saw.

Nausea rolls in her gut. She needs that report. She needs to break into FNIA Headquarters.

Mai needs to break into the FNIA headquarters. Okay. That's what she'll do.

She tries to get up, but her body won't obey. Instead, she remains leaning on the table. Mai spends at least five minutes struggling with herself, trying to force her body up off the desk, but it doesn't work. Eventually she breaks out into tears of frustration.

Come on. Her mother is there again. Come on, get into bed. You'll feel better in the morning.

I can't. Mai's cheek is smushed into the table. It's starting to hurt.

Yes, you can, Michi says gently. Come on, love. Up you get.

Mai imagines her mother brushing the tears from her eyes. She reaches up with one hand and traces the ghost's path across her own face. Spell broken.

Unsteadily, Mai pushes herself up, getting to her feet. She staggers into her bedroom, ignoring the washroom for the evening, and collapses into bed. Can't quite manage to turn down the covers, so she lays on top of them, crying softly until she manages to fall into uneasy sleep.

***

She's able to see things much clearer in the morning, absurdly enough. Mai reappraises the situation as she washes herself, takes off and reapplies her makeup.

First, she doesn't need to break into the FNIA to know if her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) is off being a faggot with the Water Tribe Boy. If that's true, Azula will tell her.

It'll hurt her enough that she won't keep it to herself.

Second, if he is off being a faggot… maybe it's better that he left.

She caps the dark kohl she lines her eyes with, swipes the lipstick over her mouth. Either way, she'll get answers.

But when she arrives at the FNIA, ready to plan for whatever the hell mission she's about to get dragged into, and actually asks Azula if Zuko was seen with Sokka and Suki, Azula is hesitant. Cagey, almost.

Now Mai's the one turning a searching gaze on Azula. All she'd asked was if Zuko was with the Water Tribe boy.

Something in Azula's expression breaks, and she sighs. "Shut the door," she says evenly, and Mai complies, coming to stand close to Azula.

"This doesn't leave the room," Azula says, eye on the door behind Mai. Leaning in close, she whispers, "Yes. He's with them."

Mai feels as though her knees have been cut out from under her. As though a part of her has been severed off with a dull knife. Through her blurred vision, she catches Azula wearing a small smile, knows she's slipped up. Let too much show on her face. She struggles to gain control again.

Azula examines her fingernails. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Mai struggles to believe her. Azula's face turns serious again. "This doesn't leave this room," she repeats, and Mai nods.

"Good. Here's our plan going forward."

It's a long day. Azula wants them to outthink Zuko, to try and anticipate what information he'll give to the Federation, and they spend hours putting together an exhaustive list of what Zuko knows, then going through it marking what he might tell them, deciding what damage control they'll need to prioritize. Mai is exhausted, gripped in planning for Zuko's betrayal as she is, and Azula only exacerbates by making sly, biting remarks about how he left her, how he's gone over to the other side in more ways than one. Mai grits her teeth and lets the comments bounce off her skin, her only thought getting this work done so she can mourn her boyfriend in peace.

Finally, finally, Azula dismisses her. She's back at her apartment before she realizes she'd left the FNIA headquarters. She makes herself drink a glass of water, brings it into the bathroom with her as she takes her makeup.

It's only when her face and shoulders are bare, when she's taken off her makeup and her clothes and her weapons under her clothes, does she begin to consider the way Azula had handled the clandestine information about Zuko. How careful she'd been, how she'd made sure Mai wouldn't tell anyone else.

Because it would be very, very bad for Zuko if anyone else were to find out about this. Especially his father.

Mai sits on her floor, folds her feet up and under her. Does Azula care about Zuko? Mai has spent hours trying to figure out their relationship, before giving up and coming to the conclusion that it's complicated. And that had been when they were fighting on the same side.

If she's swearing Mai to secrecy, she probably won't tell Ozai. The thought has her breathing easier, even now the indication of Zuko's safety is a small comfort.

Azula won't out Zuko, but she'll fight against him. Will Mai?

She sighs. She has to fight against Zuko. If Mai doesn't, the consequences from Azula will be… steep. She has no choice

A tear rolls its way down her cheek. She brushes it away angrily. Mai doesn't know when, but she'll certainly see Zuko in the field soon. She hopes he can forgive her, although he probably knew this is what it would come to when he defected.

Blunt anger clouds her thoughts. Why couldn't he have just left things as they were? But she's much more generous tonight, even now she gets the feeling Zuko's stint with the FNIA was only borrowed time.

Mai finishes her glass of water. Maybe Zuko had to leave, but she's still here, and she'll reap the consequences of his choice.

She goes to bed.

Chapter Text

Reinforced doors, locks of a new metal alloy. Check points at all the entrances and at every sector inside the building. Diminished ventilation system to deter escape attempts. Sokka pours over the prison’s schematics, scouring for weak points, overlooked corners, anything to get them inside. Unfortunately, he’s tallying up far more roadblocks than entrances. This plan might be harder than they’d thought.

He tilts his head to the side and winces, tilting his head further to work out the kink in his neck. The annoying buzzing of the lights in Federation Republic City HQ aren’t helping his mood. He glances to his left at Suki beside him, picks his head up to find Zuko where he stands opposite. The two of them, like him, are leaning over a wide, rectangular table, totally engrossed in the building plans that are spread out across it. Trying to find a way in, like he is.

Sokka sighs, tries to refocus on the plans in front of him. Before he can get very far Suki nudges him, glances in the direction in the air above Zuko’s head. Sokka winces again, of a different sort. He eyes the razor-sharp ice shard holding in place in the air a few inches above Zuko. Sokka flicks his gaze to Pakku, his superior in the Federation, who's steady hand is keeping the icicle aloft and ready to drive through Zuko’s skull. Pakku insists on doing this every time he has a meeting with Zuko, and it’s getting old fast. Sokka scowls across the table at him. True to form, Pakku scowls back. The ice shard wiggles menacingly. Zuko, for his part, barely looks up, although if it were him, Sokka would be pissing himself.

Zuko leans over to straighten the map, bending down close to decipher a small corner. His new manacles jingle loudly as he moves. The reminder of the entirely unnecessary chains makes Sokka lose just that much more of his patience, and he makes a furious gesture in the direction of the death shard. Pakku shakes his head slowly, somehow managing to narrow his eyes even further. Sokka hears a huff from his left, turns and sees that Suki is giving Pakku and Jeong Jeong, another one of their superiors, her absolute death glare. Jeong Jeong rolls his eyes, turns to Piandao with an appealing look, but Sokka's master raises his eyes, nods to Suki and Sokka and throws his lot in with them. Sokka turns a victorious, vindictive smile on Jeong Jeong, who throws his hands in the air.

When Zuko coughs, everyone jumps about a foot. "This map of the prison is wrong."

"No, it isn't," Pakku answers with finality.

"Yes, it is," Zuko says. Suki shoots Sokka a pained look.

"No, it isn't, boy," Pakku brushes him off again.

"If Zuko says the map is wrong, it's wrong," Suki says into the awkward silence that follows.

"And I, your superior, am saying his information is incorrect," Pakku says, with his head in its usual position up his ass. "So you would do well to--"

"Look," Sokka says, finally losing his patience. "You guys came to us with a mission objective of learning what the FNIA is planning, Zuko is the one who told you they were hard at work building a fleet of something new to hit us with. You corroborate his statement with other reports, shockingly it checks out. You give us a new mission objective of learning where they're building this, we talk it over with Zuko for five minutes and narrow it down to three factories. You spend a day calling CI's and low and behold, Zuko's right again. You give us a new mission objective of infiltrating the factories, Zuko tells you you can basically do a drive-by on two of them to determine if they're building something new or the old stand-by tanks. You take three days to do the drive by, and, shock of shocks, Zuko is right again. And now, when you give us the new mission of infiltrating the third and final factory, and Zuko tells you it doubles as a prison outfit but the map is wrong, even though he was right every time before, you don't--"

"That's enough, Sokka," Pakku says with a solemnity that cracks in half as soon as his eyes light on Zuko again. "We don't know what he's planning!"

"He's solved problems in a week that would set us back half a year," Suki says angrily. "When are you going to trust him?" She crosses the room angrily, jingles Zuko's manacles to make a point. "He clearly isn't a prisoner anymore, he's helping us!"

"We can't rule out that he's helping us to support some greater plan, you know that," Jeong Jeong says. "The chains stay on until we say otherwise."

Sokka opens his mouth to retort, but Zuko beats him to it. "Well, they'll have to come off when I help them break into the prison."

Suki throws him an amused look, and Sokka shuts his mouth, amazed by the size of Zuko's balls. Across the table, Pakku seems to be having an aneurysm. "And just what makes you think you'll be going with them to the prison?" he snarls.

"They can't get in without me," Zuko says in a quiet, calm voice.

"What, you flash your special, Fire Nation Intelligence Agency ID and they walk right in but don't come out again?" Pakku says disbelievingly.

"That's one way to do it," Zuko maintains the same calm, quiet demeanor, but Sokka looks down and realizes his hands are shaking. He clears his throat to get the attention of everyone in the room, makes eye contact with Zuko and nods encouragingly. Beside Zuko, Suki gives an obvious thumbs up. Pakku rolls his eyes.

"I can help them sneak into the prison, I'm good at sneaking into things," he says with renewed vigor.

"You're 'good at sneaking into things?'" Pakku retorts, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Zuko sighs. "Remember when FNIA agents showed up with no warning in the Northern Water Tribe?"

Sokka stifles a wince. Pakku had fought those agents personally, and Sokka knows for a fact the NWT native still holds a grudge. "Bad example, but the work does speak for itself," Sokka says, trying to spin it his way.

"You need me to get in," Zuko says earnestly. "Look--" he snags a pencil off the table, begins drawing over the map in quick, broad strokes.

"It took us a full year of reconnaissance to get that schematic," Jeong Jeong says in an awed voice. "And now he's fixing it for you, you're welcome," Suki says easily, mouthing "sorry" when Jeong Jeong looks at her furiously.

"I've updated it," Zuko says after a few minutes, wiping his brow. "Look, they've added this annex here. And you didn't account for this service passageway, which is how we'll get in," he nods at Sokka and Suki. Sokka notices he has pencil marks on his temple. "I'm good at sneaking into places, and I'm not working for the FNIA anymore." He addresses Pakku directly. "FNIA agents saw me fight on Sokka and Suki's side when they came to bring me back, I can't go to the FNIA. It's too late. If I wave my 'ID' and walk into prison with Sokka and Suki, I won't come out again, either."

"And why," Pakku spits, the ice above Zuko's head quivering before Suki apparently has enough of that and knocks it out of the air with a sharp kick. Pakku takes the time to glare at her. "And why did you decide to leave the FNIA?"

Zuko hesitates, looks down. Suki speaks up. "That's none of your business," she says angrily. Pakku smiles broadly. Meanly, Sokka thinks. "I assure you, it is."

"Ask them," Zuko says suddenly, gesturing with his chin to Piandao and Jeong Jeong. "They know, they were still in the Fire Nation when--" he shakes something off his back. "Ask them," he says again.

The two men look uncomfortable, but Piandao opens his mouth. "I vouch for the Prince," he says firmly. "And I trust Sokka and Suki's judgement."

"We'll discuss this further without an audience," Jeong Jeong cuts a look at Sokka, Suki and Zuko, before sharing a long look with Piandao. "Thank you for your help, Prince Zuko," he says, before taking Pakku by the elbow and leading him from the room. Piandao follows, turns and fixes Sokka with a hard stare before he leaves. Sokka gulps. He knows what that one means: I stuck my neck out for you. Don't let me down.

There's an awkward silence between the three of them, after Piandao, Jeong Jeong and Pakku leave. The fluorescents buzz stoically overhead, now accompanied by the gentle scritching sound as Zuko runs his fingernails over his scar.

Sokka sighs. That had gone about as well as he had expected.

The scritching sound stops, and Sokka looks over to see that Suki has taken Zuko's hand in her own, looking up at him encouragingly. "You're helping us so much," she says earnestly.

Sokka nods violently, coming around to their side as well. "Yeah, we wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you."

Zuko looks resolutely at the map on the table, but his face doesn't seem so stiff. "We'll only be able to get one of us in. No one will question an extra body on the boat ride into the prison, but we'll have to falsify the records before there's a headcount. I can do that if I stowaway on one of the boats with whoever we're placing in the prison." He looks meaningfully at Sokka and Suki, who look back at him, then at each other. "I'll do it," they say in unison. Zuko rolls his eyes.

"I'm much better at stealth missions than you are," Suki says assuredly. "Remember Omashu?"

"When are you going to stop telling me to 'remember Omashu'?" Sokka says indignantly. "Zuko just said it's not a stealth mission, I don't need to be good at sneaking!"

"But you do need to be able to handle yourself in a prison, and my hand-to-hand is better than yours," she reminds him condescendingly.

"That's true," Zuko offers from his position by the table, and Sokka glares at him. "You, shut up."

"He's just pissy because I reminded him about Omashu," Suki stage whispers to Zuko, and Sokka nearly throws his hands in the air when they start giggling.

"Suki," he says, trying desperately for calm. "This is a reconnaissance mission. A tech reconnaissance mission. Of the two of us, who is an inventor?"

Suki pouts, while Zuko points at Sokka. "You are," he says helpfully.

"Traitor," Suki says lightly, while Sokka smiles triumphantly. "Thank you. So don't you think the tech guy should be on hand? To assess? The tech?"

"You're sure you can only get one of us in?" Suki asks, and Zuko nods. "What about as a guard?"

"No go," he answers. "Because it's an important factory, the prisoners are nobodies, but the guards are treated extremely well. There's a waitlist for the position."

"Damn," she says lightly. "Alright, it's your game."

"Hah!" Sokka pumps his fist in the air in victory, then resettles himself, smoothing his shirt. "We still have to figure out a way out of the prison."

"Very smooth," Suki says, before turning to look at Zuko. Sokka does the same.

"I--it only works on the way in," he says self-consciously. "I'm not as good at getting out."

Sokka looks at him, gobsmacked, while Suki smirks. "Never pegged you for a one way only kind of guy." Zuko blushes, while Sokka chokes.

"I can do it," Zuko says strongly, fighting the red in his cheeks, "but my plans for the exit usually come down to 'fight my way out.' Which works most of the time, but not here. I can't strong-arm my way out of a prison."

"Let me take a look," Sokka says, stepping determinedly past Zuko and looking at the map again. "Looks like you can get out of the warden's office the same you got in, through these vents." He traces the route with his finger, then notices an unmarked channel. "What's this?"

Zuko examines it. "Warden's personal laundry shoot," he grunts, and Suki and Sokka grin. Zuko rolls his eyes. "They'll check that," he says, as though it was obvious.

"Okay, how do we make them not check it?" Suki asks.

"Maybe I can be the laundry service?" Zuko says doubtfully. "I'd need a disguise and an ID, though."

Sokka shakes his head. "If they're checking the guards, they'll check that." He thinks for a few more moments, turns to the map again "Oh, oh!" he snaps his fingers, smiles triumphantly. "Food delivery! The prisons' on an island, they'll have to import their food, right?"

Zuko runs a hand through his hair, manacles clinking. "Yes, but it's an airtight system," he says. "It's the same guy every time, they check him and his boat before he leaves the prison."

Sokka rubs a hand over his chin, then lets a slow smile spread over his face. "What's he look like?"

***

Zuko furrows his brow, taken aback by Sokka’s question. What does he look like? The guy who does food delivery to the Rè Shí prison?

“Let’s take a step back,” Suki says, shooting Sokka a reproachful look. “We don’t even know if Zuko’s seen this guy before.”

“Alright, fine,” Sokka acquiesces. “Have you seen this guy before?"

Zuko nods. By a stroke of luck, Zuko had toured the prison a month ago the day of the monthly food delivery, and had been in the kitchens when the worker had arrived with the food. But he hadn't gotten a good look at him, he'd only seen him for half a moment.

"Great!" Sokka says happily, throwing Suki an 'I-told-you-so' look. "So what did he look like?"

Before he can stop himself, Zuko shrugs jerkily. "How should I know? He's just a guy," he says rudely, then winces. In his defense, it's been a long meeting, a long day, a long week of trying to prove himself to the superiors in the Federation. A long week of him cringing and stuttering out apologies as he revisits past FNIA work with new eyes. Zuko's trying, he is, but he knows himself, and sometimes his patience fizzles and snaps. There's only so long he can stand underneath the threat of a hovering ice dagger without reaching his limits.

He has his excuses, but still, "how should I know?" It's not a good answer, not enough information, the kind of useless reply that Azula would raise an eyebrow at, maybe threaten to tell Father and have him kicked out of the Fire Nation all over again. He tightens on instinct, bracing for the sharp impact of the sort of condescension Azula had shown him regularly back home.

It takes him a few moments, wired tightly as he is, to realize his heightened anticipation is unnecessary. That Azula isn't here, that Suki and Sokka would never treat him that way. That he doesn't have to put up with that shit anymore.

With some effort, he relaxes, tries to force some of the tension from his limbs. No one here's going to rake him over the coals for something so stupid as a dumb answer. And no one's going to threaten to kick him out of the Fire Nation, either.

This one hits harder, punches through Zuko's chest with molten heat. No one's going to kick him out of the Fire Nation. They can't, can they? He's already left.

His vision blurs, the snake of fear he'd kept tight around his heart for years starting to loosen. It doesn't matter what he does now. What mistakes he makes. He's already gone and done the thing he'd been most afraid of, the thing they'd been not so silently holding over his head. He'd broken with the throne willingly. He'd left. Father can't banish or punish him anymore because, Zuko's realizing, he isn't Father's to punish. Zuko's gone.

The thought has him exhaling, standing up straighter as the consequences fly from his shoulders. Zuko's past the point of fear. Ozai can't banish him again. He's already gone.

If he's gone, where will he go? The thought of being lost, of true homelessness, looms before him, and for a moment he dangles in front of the vast expanse of having nowhere to go. But only for a moment. He blinks, lets his eyes refocus, coming to rest on the two people in front of him. On Sokka and Suki. He's already gotten to where he's going: right here, with these people. He's where he needs to be, where he wants to be. He's finally gotten himself on the right side of this fight. He wishes Uncle could see him now.

(If Zuko's gone, if he's cut his ties with the Father, with the FNIA, what does it mean for what he's left behind? For who he's left behind?

Don't think about that.)

He's not with the FNIA anymore, Azula isn't here to pounce on everything he says. Sure enough, as if reading his mind, Sokka lets out a laugh.

"'Just a guy,' huh? Sounds like you have a crush on him." Behind Sokka, Suki snorts.

Zuko revels in the sound, despite the blush heating his cheeks. They have no idea, no idea how high he's flying, and he doesn't feel like telling them. Instead, he matches Sokka. "Why, are you jealous?" he asks with a smirk.

"Ah!" Suki shouts, diving to give Zuko a high five. His manacles clank as he slaps his hand against hers, but, Zuko thinks, he'd rather be in chains than in FNIA headquarters with Azula. "Oh! Do we need to take you back to the Southern Water Tribe to get some ice for that burn?" she says cheerily.

"Technically it wasn't a burn," Sokka complains, but his face is red, and he can't meet Zuko's eyes.

"Semantics," Suki says, waving a hand at him.

"Why does it matter what he looks like?" Zuko asks, still trying to figure out what's going on.

"It really doesn't matter," Sokka adds, clearly eager to get out of the spotlight. "The only thing that matters is how tall he is."

"Is he about your height?" Suki asks, coming to stand in front of Zuko with a critical eye. "I guess he's my height," Zuko answers self-consciously, uncomfortable under Suki's assessing gaze.

“Perfect,” Sokka says with a smile. “When we’re sneaking me into the prison, we’ll knock out the food delivery guy and you’ll take his place. It’s a perfect plan!”

“Whoa, what?” How is it a perfect plan? Sokka's missed something that, at least in Zuko’s mind, is rather obvious. “I can’t take his place, I don’t—“ he makes an aborted gesture at his scar. “I don’t look like him."

"Like Sokka said, that part really doesn't matter," Suki says in a soothing tone. "I'm pretty good with a paintbrush, I can make you look like anyone." She smiles proudly.

Ah. He can escape the Azula, the FNIA, even Father, he can choose sides for himself, but there are some things he can't outrun. Zuko barks out a laugh as something familiar and ugly rears up in his chest. "You don't think I've tried covering this with makeup?" he asks harshly. "It won't work, the burned tissue is too thick. I can't cover it up."

Suki and Sokka trade a long, slow look, and Suki makes her way over to him carefully, like she's trying to calm a skittish animal.

"Let's just try it," she says soothingly, running a hand up his arm. He flinches away from her, and she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. Zuko realizes he's trembling. Away from the FNIA, but right back in the thick of it.

He swallows past the lump in his throat. Tries to stall, give himself time to get himself under control. "Can't you just do it for me," he asks Sokka desperately, heedless of how nonfunctional the suggestion is. Sokka can't sneak himself into the prison to collect data and then escape as the food delivery guy.

Sokka grins wide, impish, and Zuko has the distinct feeling he's wandered into a trap. "I can't, actually! I'm taller than you!"

This catches Zuko off guard, enough to penetrate the horrible feelings in his gut. “Wait, what? You’re not taller than me.”

“I definitely am!” Sokka sings, standing up as straight as he can. “Come on, let’s go back to back!”

They line up against each other, and sure enough, Sokka’s head rises above his own. Zuko carefully tamps down on the sudden fire in his gut, adds it to the list of things he’s not going to think about. At the very least, he's grateful for the distraction.

And it is a distraction, he knows one when he sees one. Sokka and Suki saw how--how difficult the makeup thing was for him, and steered him in a different direction. Something warm flies in his chest, close to his heart, and the sense he had that this is where he's supposed to be solidifies, cements into his being. This is where he's supposed to be. He's moved on, from the FNIA. From Father. And if he's moved on, maybe he can try to let go of the things that go bump in the night, the things he'd carried with him on his back when he left. Maybe he can leave the past in the past.

"I'll do it," he says quietly, leaving his place pressed against Sokka's back and turning to face them both. "I'll go undercover, we'll." His throat sticks. "We'll give the makeup a try."

Sokka and Suki both smile so bright it's blinding. Zuko stumbles, almost throws up a hand to shield his eyes. It's nearly too much to look at the two of them, and yet, Zuko realizes, he'd do anything to have that sunlight pointed at him again, which means he must be in past his knees, mustn't he? Whatever's going on between them must have grown while he wasn't watching. He must be in deep.

"Great!" Suki says happily, and her grin gets to him the way the sun does at high noon, nearly knocks him flat.

"But, uh, I don't know what the guy looks like," he mumbles apologetically.

"That's okay," she says easily, "I'll make you look like somebody else, just to see if it works." She puts her hands on her hips. "Anyone you want to look like?"

No. Zuko can answer that one easy. He's long been done trying to be anyone but himself.

"She can make you into a girl," Sokka suggests, and Zuko snorts. "I can make you into a girl," Suki confirms. "Want to give that a try?"

"Alright," Zuko says, rolling his eyes. "But I want to be the prettiest girl in the FNIA headquarters."

"Impossible," Sokka cuts in immediately. "Suki's here."

Suki rolls her eyes, but Zuko smells an in, so he murmurs "I guess that's true," and gives her a small smirk of his own. Heat rises in her cheeks, and something in Zuko grins, victorious.

Sokka lets out a wolf-whistle, gaze flicking in between his girlfriend and whatever the hell Zuko is. Suki rolls her eyes, punches him lightly in the shoulder on her way out of the room. "Be right back," Sokka calls to Zuko, before following her out, and Zuko exhales, tries to prepare himself for seeing his own, naked face.

He tries to drop into a meditation, but he still catches Sokka and Suki's voices over the sound of his own breathing. "Wait," Sokka cautions. "Make sure you really play up the femininity, you know? Don't make him look too like himself," he says in a low voice. "I don't want him to get stuck thinking about--"

"About what he'd look like without the scar," Suki finishes for him. "I know, don't worry."

"Cool," Sokka breaths, and, a wall away, Zuko smiles to himself. It's nice that they're looking out for him. And it does solve one or two of his problems, in theory at least. If he's a girl, he can't look like himself with the scar magicked off his face. Or Father, something low in his brain mumbles. If he's a girl, he can't look like Father. It should be fine. They've minimized the circumstances that could lead to a panic attack. It should be fine.

He thinks that all the way through the half hour of Suki rubbing paints and tints and who knows what else on his face, chants it to himself like a mantra. Of course, nothing can prepare him for staring at his own pale, unmarred face in the handheld mirror she'd brought with her. And it really is unmarred. It's stunning. The scar's gone.

Zuko examines himself, turning his head this way and that. The tough, scaly skin underneath his eye looks smooth and unmarked, bone-pale paint masks the reddish skin he knows lies on his cheek. The farce extends all the way up to his ear, which looks normal, and Zuko almost wants someone to speak into it, half-tricked into thinking his hearing will have come back. He raises a hand to his own face, fingers millimeters from his cheek.

"If you touch it, the paint will smear," Suki says in a soft voice. Spell broken. Zuko can't hear her in his left ear, and he's instantly pulled from his fantasies, from imagining what his life would look like if he hadn't spoken out in the war meeting.

"What do you think?" Zuko hears Suki say. What does he think? Zuko certainly doesn't look like himself, Suki had meant it when she'd said she was good. She's tailored his jawline, making it appear softer, and eaten away at the shadows in his cheeks so that they look rounder, giving him a fuller face. His eyes look bigger, too, with the same dark stuff Mai uses on her own. Any stubble on his chin or jaw is covered with thick paint.

He doesn't look like himself, and he doesn't look like Father, either, which is a small mercy. He doesn't look like Azula, which he'd half wondered if he would.

What does he think? I think I look like my mother.

And it's true. He looks like his mother, who he hasn't seen in over a decade. He looks like Ursa. And suddenly she's out of the box he's forced her into, ghost hanging close, taking up space in his mind he doesn't have to spare.

He closes his eyes, forces back a shuddering breath. "It looks good," he manages, eyes still tightly shut.

"Zuko, are you okay?" Sokka asks worriedly.

No. No, not really, but, he realizes, this is something else he'd like to keep close to his chest. Ursa doesn't belong here. I'll think about you later, he tells her, I'll mourn you when I'm alone, and she disappears. Zuko keeps his eyes closed a few moments longer, until he's sure he can look in the mirror and not see his mother looking back.

He opens his eyes. It's just a girl version of Zuko, in front of Sokka and Suki's worried faces that flank his shoulders. "I'm okay," he reassures them, voice quiet. "You did a good job," he tells Suki. "I'm sure we can make it work on the day of the break-in."

Suki nods, satisfied. "I think you look really pretty," Sokka adds, and from what Zuko can tell, it's part teasing, part genuine compliment, so he does an about-face, fixes Sokka with his flirtiest, most smoldering stare from under his lashes. "Thanks, handsome." He doesn't bother changing the low register of his voice, and it's enough to make them both inhale sharply. Zuko takes one look at their shocked faces and just about busts a gut, and soon the two of them join in.

This is okay, Zuko thinks. I'm okay. This is going to work.

***

This is going to work! Sokka thinks to himself happily. This plan is going to work. They go over it a few times, shake hands and pat each other on the back for a job well done, and come back the next morning only to find that sometimes the universe is a hammer and Sokka's plans are a nail.

"It's a women's prison?" he says disbelievingly at the planning meeting, after they've gone over the plan in and out with Piandao, Jeong Jeong, and Pakku. Jeong Jeong nods grimly. "We've managed to verify all of Zuko's information, this was the only thing unaccounted for. Suki will have to be the one we place inside."

Sokka glances at Suki, expecting her to give him a knowing smirk, but instead she's looking seriously at Jeong Jeong. "We planned to send Sokka in, he's the one who can best understand what they're building," she says. "Is there no other way to get him in?"

Jeong Jeong shakes his head. "It will have to be you."

Suki looks troubled, and it throws Sokka to see her so unconfident. "It'll be okay," he whispers, "I'll teach you what you need to know," and she picks her chin up. "When do we leave?"

"In a week," Pakku answers. "You'll have that time to prepare." He looks at Sokka. "I'll expect a full report of the materials you require for the mission by tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Sokka says, anxious to get out of the meeting and grill Suki on what's bothering her.

"Anything else?" Pakku narrows his eyes at Zuko. When nobody says anything, he dismisses them. Sokka grabs Suki and Zuko's hands, pulls them from the room.

"Sokka, what's going on?" Suki says, easily getting out of his grip. Zuko wears a similarly confused expression.

"What's bothering you?" Sokka asks, ignoring her question. "I thought you wanted to do the solo mission."

She lowers her gaze. "I… I'm no good on my own," she confesses. "I'm much better with a team, when I know other people have my back. I'm not as good flying solo."

Sokka snorts. "Suki, that's bullshit. You're the strongest, best fighter I know. You're a Kyoshi Warrior. You can do anything."

She raises her eyes, looks past Sokka at Zuko, and Zuko nods. "When Mai and I were first getting to know you as targets, we were always told that you were the one to watch out for in a fight."

"Hey!" Sokka says angrily, but Zuko's words seem to give Suki the confidence she needs. "Okay. Thanks."

"You're going to kick this mission's butt," he adds, and both Suki and Zuko roll their eyes, Suki giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "Okay," she says seriously. "Okay. Tell me what I need to know."

Chapter Text

Zuko pulls in a long, even breath through his nose. He holds it, leaning into the empty space that separates the inhale from the exhale. The harsh prison floor is unforgiving underneath him and the air itself is vile, the smell emanating from the stinking mattress behind him sitting ugly in his chest, but that's not a problem. Zuko's meditated in much more uncomfortable, stressful situations than on mission at the Ré Sho prison.

The Ré Sho prison, but inside a cell this time. On his last visit Zuko was here touring the facility as Crown Prince and high-ranking member of the FNIA. It's jarring, how quickly his life has turned inside out.

The gentle strokes against his face are at odds with the environment, and Zuko lets the even way Suki smears on the makeup lull him further into meditation. She's been at it for a while now, and he welcomes the break in action. This mission is tiring, and it's not even over yet. Sneaking Suki into an FNIA factory that doubles as a prison has proven to be unfairly taxing for Zuko, who'd had to cram himself into an overhead storage unit on the boat ride to the prison's island. Meanwhile, Suki had sat more or less comfortably on the main deck. He'd crawled his way through the vents to the warden's office and fudged the documents to account for one extra prisoner while she was going through the arrival process. Zuko assigned her a cell at random and then made his way back through the prison to wait for her there, clinging to the metal beams above her new bed and hiding in the dark.

So yeah. Zuko's tired. He doesn't mind sitting pretty while Suki puts on his stage makeup.

Zuko feels Suki's mouth open, kneeling as she is inches from his face. "You're very good at keeping yourself still," she comments. He opens his eyes to find her own narrowed in concentration, tongue between her teeth as she draws an eyebrow over his ruined eye with little flicks of her paintbrush. He'd had her makeup kit crammed into his pocket during his entry acrobatics, digging painfully against his hip. She notices him looking at her and smiles before adjusting the hand resting on his forehead. Zuko finds his breath sticking in his throat. "Whenever I do this to Sokka he squirms like a five year old."

Zuko chuckles low in his throat, careful not to move and make her mess up. He can imagine Sokka's impatience at having to sit under Suki's ministrations. "I've had a lot of practice meditating," he admits.

She sits back on her feet and examines her handiwork. "Lucky for us," she remarks, then scrunches up her nose. "Meditating isn't part of the Kyoshi Warrior training regimen, but I've been thinking of adding it in," she says conversationally.

Zuko grunts noncommittally, closing an eye before she can stick a paint brush in it. "Hey, watch it," he murmurs.

"I'm sticking out my tongue at you, you'll just have to take my word for it," Suki answers, matter-of-fact, and he cracks a smile.

They spend a few more moments in silence. "You can open your eyes," she says eventually, and when he does he finds her wearing an expectant look. "Well?" she asks.

Zuko blinks at her. "Well what?"

She rolls her eyes at him, exactly like she does with Sokka. "Well, what do you think of me teaching the Kyoshi Warriors to meditate?" she asks in a huff.

He looks at her in surprise. "You want my opinion?'

Another eye roll. "Obviously. That's why I asked."

Zuko takes a moment to be star-struck in spite of himself. Like a child in the schoolyard. Suki, powerful, pretty, sure-of-herself Suki, wants to know what he thinks? Oh wow.

He deserves every eye-roll she gives him, he thinks ruefully. Come on, Zuko. Be useful.

"Meditation has a strong or semi-strong presence in Air and Firebending," Zuko answers carefully, "but I don't know as much about it in Earth or Waterbending," he hedges.

He gives her a tentative look, and she nods for him to continue, picking up her brush again.

"A strong center is important for Earthbending," he reasons, "and I know at least a small portion of respected Earthbending scholars consider it an essential part of the discipline. I've, uh," Zuko slips. "I've had less access to the study of Waterbending."

Suki's eyes narrow imperceptibly, but she doesn't call him on it. "Waterbending is a crucial part of our philosophy," she says instead. "We pride ourselves on tracing our technique back to at least half of Kyoshi's legacy as an Avatar through both Earth and Waterbending, to say nothing of our proximity to the Water Tribe," she recites easily, then stops herself. "But I don't have to tell you that. You've seen us fight."

I've seen you fight, Zuko thinks privately, but he doesn't correct her.

"So? What do you--here, hang on." Suki takes his chin in her hands and carefully lifts his head up, inspecting his throat. She leans over, checks the knocked-out body of the food delivery man next to them in the small cell, the man Zuko would be replacing to get out of the prison. She'd gone to retrieve him as soon as the guards had finished processing her and left her alone in the cell, unlocking it with a small device Sokka'd given to them before they'd left. Lucky for them, there's no windows on the cell door. "Here, can you--" she takes Zuko's hand, careful of the flames dancing within it, and moves it over the unconscious man's body, pulling down the collar of his shirt. "See, he has this scar here," she mutters to herself, before letting Zuko's hand return to its position in his lap. He swallows as her brush runs over his Adam's apple.

"I'm thinking about the meditation," he lets her know so she doesn't ask him what he thinks again, then rolls his tongue over his teeth, debating an answer. "There's an old form of Firebending that's sort of a slow, moving meditation," he says finally. Suki glances up at him, meeting his eyes with a tense smile. "It involves slowly moving through a set of forms that aren't combative in nature, not by themselves," he continues. "It would be pretty easy to adapt the philosophy to some of the forms I saw you run through when we were camping, the ones used to calm down."

She meets his eyes again, startled this time. "What?" he asks self-consciously.

"That wasn't something all the Kyoshi warriors do," Suki says eventually, pulling her eyes back down to her work on his neck. "That was just me."

Oh. "Oh." Zuko doesn't know what else to say.

"Well, maybe it would be helpful to the other warriors, too," he says eventually, words careful in the suddenly frigid air.

Suki doesn't react beyond a half-hearted "yeah, maybe." She works in tense silence for a few moments while Zuko tries to meditate again, worrying that he's said the wrong thing.

"Do all firebenders meditate?" she asks all of a sudden.

"No," Zuko answers quickly, a dry laugh escaping. No, most firebenders in Ozai's country aren't interested in maintaining a calm and steady spirit.

"I guess you're just special, huh?" Suki says with a wink, opening a tin of flesh-colored paint and beginning to dab it along his jaw. Zuko must be forgiven, then.

The compliment slides easy along his throat like honey, but something heavier chases it down and falls loud into the pit of his stomach. "My Uncle taught me," he says quietly.

Suki's hand stills. "The one you lived with in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko moves to nod, checks himself before he makes her mess up. "Yeah." He doesn't want to think about this.

"How are you feeling?" he asks instead, changing the subject to her instead of him. "Are you okay?"

Suki throws him a dirty look that takes him aback. His surprise must show on his face because she sighs, her hands stilling. "I'm nervous," she admits ruefully. She ducks her head down. "Afraid," she says in a smaller voice.

Zuko eyes her carefully. "Why?" he asks, matter-of-fact.

Suki quirks a lip, looks with forced concentration as she gathers more paint on her finger and carefully dabs it over his nose. Zuko waits patiently for her to answer.

"I don't like being on my own," she says quietly. She keeps her eyes trained on her work, lightly applying the paint with a steady hand. "I fight better on a team, I know I'm better when I have the Kyoshi Warriors at my back, or the Federation, or… " she trails off. "Or you and Sokka."

Zuko tries not to let that fly too hot in his throat.

"The last time I was alone was after my family…" she trails off, putting the paint down and dropping her hands to her lap. "And the Kyoshi Warriors took me in almost immediately. I haven't been on my own since, not really. This is the longest solo mission I've ever had." She looks at him, eyes big and blue and full of fear. "What if I mess it up?"

Zuko takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he can say. "You're easily one of the top fighters the Federation has," he says eventually. "Definitely the strongest opponent." He picks his head up to catch her smiling softly. "But you knew that already."

"But I knew that already," she answers softly. "Doesn't hurt to hear it again." He offers her a soft smile, tries to guess at what's making her feel insecure. "You're a good strategist," he says eventually. "You make good choices, you know what to do."

"Sokka's a good strategist," she says quietly. "So are you," Zuko answers evenly. "You know when to strike, when it's smart to hold back and wait for another opening. And not just in a fight, when we're planning missions, too. You're a good strategist. You can work this on your own. If something goes wrong, you'll figure out the best move forward. You can handle this."

Running her tongue over her teeth, Suki gives him a small smile. "Thanks."

There are a few moments of silence while she picks up the paint and gets back to work. "You ran missions alone, right?" She asks eventually.

"Yeah," Zuko shrugs. He did it because he'd had to, but he also knows he can run a good solo mission. He's always been able to work alone.

"And you've been on your own…" she guesses.

Zuko quirks a small smile. "Of course." He knows she's thinking of his banishment. "I didn't have anybody," he says quietly. "Actually, that's not true," he corrects, blinking as he finds himself faced again with what he was trying to avoid. "I had my Uncle."

"You told me he left the FNIA, right around the time your father…" she trails off, dabs some paint over his scar.

Zuko can read the unspoken questions she's left hanging in the air between them. "He left with me," he murmurs. "When my father banished me, he went with me so I wouldn't be alone."

"He sounds like a good guy," Suki offers, leaning back to look with a critical eye over his jaw.

Zuko swallows harshly as she busies herself searching through her box of paints. Does he want to tell her about what happened between him and his Uncle? How he'd turned against him as soon as his father invited him home? He doesn't want to, he doesn't want her to look at him with shame coating her face, disgust dripping off her brow. She's good, she's been on the good side the whole time and is miles ahead of Zuko, who only pulled his head out of his ass re the whole good vs. bad thing like, yesterday. Suki's good to the core, wholly kind and sweet and righteously indignant. And cute, Zuko notes dully to himself. And cute and totally deserving of this little… crush he's developing on her. He can't tell her what he's done, this worst thing in a skeleton closet full of worst things. He doesn't want to tell her, but the awfulness of what he did is burning a hole in his pocket. He doesn't want her to know, but he needs to tell someone. Someone who will recognize the horror of what he's done and maybe even give him the punishment he deserves. Father and Azula were cruelly proud of what he'd done to Uncle, and Mai was chillingly cynical, offering him quiet, cold assurances that he did what he had to do to survive. He doesn't blame her, he knows everything she's ever done was only to survive, and she might even be right, but he knows what he did was wrong, and he wants someone to tell him so.

"I sold him out," Zuko whispers into the quiet of the room. Suki pulls back, frowning as she paints a scar onto his throat. Her eyes dart up to his, filling with confusion. "Sold who out?"

"My Uncle." Zuko takes a deep breath. "When my father offered to take me back… I handed my Uncle over to him. He's in prison now."

His eyes, his whole face now is pointed toward the ground. He can't look at her, can't stand to see the disappointed twist to her lips. She lets out a sigh, and Zuko flinches when he feels a hand fall on his shoulder.

"You can't help who you were," she says evenly. "Or what you were born into. What matters is what you're doing now."

Zuko looks up at her, then.

Her eyes are shining with understanding and leniency and something that looks like hope. They're bright and warm and Zuko can't help but wonder why the fire of it is directed at him. It was foolish, he realizes, for him to expect anything but kindness from her. For him to think punishment or judgment would come out of her mouth. That isn't her style. For half a moment he chastises himself for picking someone so unwilling to castigate him and shame him like he deserves, but he manages to flit that out of his mind. Her warmth makes him feel warm himself, and he realizes with a shock that he's proud. He made a mistake, but he knows what he did was wrong, the kind of wrong that stains the spirit, that keeps you up at night. Maybe it didn't bother him before, but it does now. Or maybe it would have bothered him long ago, back when Ursa had been around, and Father had beaten and Azula had tricked it out of him. And isn't that a nice thought, that maybe he's becoming the person his mother wanted him to be. He's recognizing the importance of loyalty and kindness towards people who had only shown him loyalty and kindness. Maybe that's how he ended up here with Suki in the first place.

Suki's still looking at him. "You really believe that," he says, wanting to hear it again.

"I do," she confirms. "I do. And I--" she cuts herself off, lets out a scoff. "I really believe that, which means I--" she shakes her head. "I don't blame you for--for what happened to my people."

Her face twists into a sneer, fingers clenching into fists. Zuko looks over her in concern. She was generous, and now he gets to return the favor. "I wouldn't be mad at you, if you did," he whispers carefully.

"I don't!" She says forcefully, slapping one hand on the ground of the prison cell. "I don't, it's not your fault, I'm not mad at you--"

She chokes on the lie, and Zuko smiles in spite of himself. "Don't you dare laugh at me!" she threatens, and Zuko chases the smile off his face, recognizing how vulnerable she is.

"It's okay if you're mad at me," he says gently. "I'm the son of the person who...who did that," he finishes lamely. "I'm the son of the person who hurt you, who took your family from you," he forces himself to say. "You should be mad at me."

"But I like you," Suki insists, stone eyes hard and unyielding. "I like you, and I know it's not your fault, I just…"

"Anger goes deeper than that," Zuko answers. He knows anger, it's been his constant companion since his banishment, only just beginning to fizzle out a few months ago. "Trust me. I've been angry for a long time, I know. It doesn't make sense, and it doesn't listen to reason. And trying to fight it will just make it pop up where it's unwanted."

Suki looks at him, eyes harsh with self-criticism. "I don't want to be angry at you," she offers.

"But you are," Zuko says gently, "and that's okay."

"But I don't… I don't want you to think less of yourself, because I'm angry," she says carefully, scooting closer to him in the prison.

Zuko chews this over. "Well, I'll try not to," he says with a smile. "But I don't think you should worry about that now. You can't neglect your own feelings just because you want to spare mine."

"Okay. Okay." She takes a deep breath. "I'm angry at you."

Zuko nods. "I understand. I'm sorry."

Suki nods. "Okay. Thank you." She hesitates, before picking up a brush and setting to work again. Zuko resumes stillness again.

There's silence for a few minutes. "You were...surprisingly good at that," Suki says, and Zuko can't help but laugh. "Thank you, I think."

"Who were you mad at?"

He closes his eyes. "Same person as you."

"Yourself?"

Zuko nods.

"But why?"

Zuko exhales slowly through his nose. "For messing up enough to get banished. For losing my throne. For being unhappy in the Fire Nation, when I did come back. For what I did to my Uncle."

"But Zuko, you're doing the right thing now," Suki insists. He opens his eyes to find her looking at him sharply. "You can't change what you did, but you can change what you do right now, and you made the right choice. That has to be enough."

Zuko closes his eyes again. "I hope so."

***

CLANG.

The heavy cell door slams shut. Zuko raps smartly on the door to say goodbye. Suki doesn't hear his footsteps receding, but she's sure he's gone. She exhales. They'd done it. She's in. Mission complete.

Suki sighs, worry sliding thick over her skin at Zuko's departure. This is it. Time to find out if she really can fly solo, a trial by fire after the only firebender she trusts left her for dead.

She grunts, pinches herself lightly on the arm. Don't think like that. Stay positive. Good luck comes to those who are prepared to receive it. Stay positive.

Stay positive.

She drops to the floor, forcing herself through a quick set of push ups to try to calm down. She imagines Zuko's successful escape route to make herself feel better, visualizes him making his way easily out on the food delivery boat after dropping it's driver in the infirmary, made up to look like an unidentifiable prisoner after a bad fight. She counts to fifty before laying facedown on the floor, sending up a quick prayer to whoever's listening that he makes it off the island.

Suki exhales once more, rolls onto her back and scoots underneath her bed. She takes out a piece of chalk she'd managed to smuggle in and carefully sketches out the diagrams Sokka had told her to watch out for on the underside of her mattress board before she can forget them. If the machinery looks like this, it's airplane engines. If it looks like this, it's ships. If it looks like this, it's bombs.

By the time she finishes, Zuko has either made it off the island or been captured and thrown into solitary, waiting to be carted back to the FNIA for questioning and who knows what else. Either way, this is it. She's on her own.

Fear pulses at the base of her throat. She's really alone, here, without Sokka or Zuko or any of the Kyoshi warriors. It's just her.

She squares her shoulders, stands resolute in her cell. "You can do this," she reminds herself stubbornly. "You can. You can get the intel for the Federation, you can do your part, you can do this. With or without Sokka, with or without backup."

You can do it. Zuko believes you can.

Weirdly, that helps.

She feels into the false pocket of her trousers, grips the dagger they'd managed to sneak onto her that hides there. That helps, too.

Thinking about Zuko's advice on meditating, she goes through an easier set of forms at a slow pace. You can do this. She holds the words in her head, willing them to be true.

You can do this.

And she does. She plays the part of a run-of-the-mill unhappy prisoner well, she gets used to the rhythm of the prison. Her body adjusts to the abysmal food and long workday. She learns who to avoid in the mess hall. She goes to sleep, wakes up like everyone else.

She watches. She listens. She learns the guard's schedule. She takes mental pictures, compares them with the drawing under her bunk, steals paper and pen from the guard's office and makes a careful mockup.

She does it.

(She's so lonely it aches.

She keeps a careful calendar under her bed, next to Sokka's original schematics.

Four weeks left. Three and a half. Three. Time slugs by. She isn't meant to be alone.)

(She thinks of Sokka often, everyday, his presence in her thoughts both a comfort and an ache. She thinks of Zuko less often, but often nonetheless, is surprised by how much she's come to care about him.)

(She wakes up. She eats. She works. She adds to her diagrams, sneaks around at night when she manages to get her cell door to open, sleeps when she can't. Thinks about some things some times, other things other times. Tries to think of nothing often, can't quite manage it.)

(She doesn't talk to anyone. She can't risk the mission, and solitaries aren't uncommon, here.)

(She does it. She manages. She isn't meant to be alone.)

Chapter Text

The trip back to Republic City is...strange. Zuko directs his boat towards the central continent of the Earth Kingdom, weaving his way through the tiny islands that make up his homeland and tries to ignore the pit in his stomach. It's nearing midnight and the sky is pitch dark, new moon lost in the dark of the night. The route he's taking is dangerous, crossing stretches of water with rocks waiting unseen in the deep to damage the hull. Zuko keeps the boat's lights off for stealth, but that's okay. He’s taken this route dozens of times before, knows the islands of the Fire Nation like he knows himself. He loves his country a bit too much for someone who's recently defected.

Zuko carefully steers the boat around rocky traps he knows hide under the waves and tries to maneuver himself away from analyzing the situation too closely. From turning over the rock sitting in the pit of his stomach and revealing what's scuttling beneath.

Just be happy, he tells himself, just be happy, the mission was a complete success. He managed to get Suki into the prison and sneak himself back out of it without raising any alarms. No injuries, no casualties, no mistakes. It was the rare perfect mission. He should be happy.

He guides the boat silently past an island town and tries to think it until it's true. It was perfect, he should be happy, he should be happy.

Of course he only manages the perfect mission after he's switched sides, he can't help but think. Couldn't quite manage it where Father could see.

And that’s part of what’s bothering him, the quiet hum of anxiety niggling his mind flares up when he thinks about what Father. About what he’ll do if he ever catches Zuko. That’s part of his uneasiness, but not all.

It's not Father that's sticking in his throat, it's the fact that he just acted against his country. That he just took up arms against the Fire Nation.

Zuko winces against the nausea that rips through his throat. It hurts, it burns like a dull acid, the knowledge that he's just run a mission against the Fire Nation. Fighting FNIA agents had been out of self-preservation, but this is espionage. Zuko can’t justify this as anything but. It’s official, he’s turned his back on his country, thrown his lot in with its enemies.

He didn't think it would hurt this much. And maybe it shouldn't hurt this much, maybe Zuko's got just as good enough reason as the displaced Earth Kingdom peasant to hate the dreaded, bloodthirsty Fire Nation, but he can't silence the part of his heart that loves his homeland in spite of Father.

He loves his home. He loves his people.

The thought of his people sends his stomach roiling, and Zuko has to fight not to retch over the side of the boat. The people of the Fire Nation aren't easy; they're stubborn, tricked into arrogance on the world stage by the egoism of his Father and the Fire Lords before him, but they belong to Zuko. Or rather, Zuko belongs to them. They're his to protect. That's what he signed up for, when he'd slid the headpiece into his topknot after the death of Lu Ten, his people are his responsibility. And he's just helped an enemy agent sneak into one of their prison factories. He's a traitor.

Zuko exhales, runs a hand through his hair. Tries to rationalize himself out of the spiral by remembering why he’d left. He'd picked his side because he'd been able to see, finally finally, that this is what was best for him. That if he stayed at home, with Father and Azula, he would not have survived. They would have shaved away parts of himself until he’d been nothing more than a body to sit on the throne, an empty husk for Azula to control. And he'd been right, he's more sure than ever that he'd needed to escape the FNIA. That he needed out.

But his needs mean fuckall when they fly in the face of what his country needs. Or at least, they're supposed to. The crown prince isn't meant to be selfish.

The thought rings in his head. The crown prince his mother would have wanted him to be—

Zuko has to press a hand to his chest to prevent his heart from trying to tear through it. The crown prince his mother would have wanted him to be wouldn't be selfish.

Well, hang on, Zuko thinks to himself, stopping that thought before it starts. He guides the boat carefully around the leg of an island that stretches out in front of him, the night air cool against the bare skin of his arms. That isn't true. Ursa put her son's needs over the Fire Nation's. He knows what happened, everyone in the Capital City knows what Ursa did to her Father-in-law. Ursa would have wanted Zuko to be selfish. She certainly was.

His mother would be happy, and his Uncle would be proud.

The thought washes over him, but brings little comfort. Yes, Uncle would be proud, but satisfying his own twisted moral compass and whatever lessons Uncle was trying to teach him isn't enough. The knowledge that he didn't do right by his people sits cold in his gut.

And right now his people need help, or they will soon. Zuko thinks about the situation in the Fire Nation and winces. Ozai has been testing the boundaries of the peace agreements since Azulon died and Ursa had fled. The Fire Nation has been very nearly implicated in numerous uprisings along the south end of the Earth Kingdom at least a half dozen times, to say nothing of the disaster between the Southern Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island. Father is cocky, he treats the world as his political playground, stirring up trouble wherever it will stick. He isn't careful, assigning missions for the FNIA without proper planning or support, leaving Zuko's old colleagues to fend for themselves if they're discovered. More than once, Ozai has turned his back on an outed agent running a dangerous mission abroad in the hopes of sowing political instability for the Fire Lord. Ozai has been lucky, the agents were loyal to the bitter end, but sooner or later the other Nations are going to catch the Fire Lord with his hand in the cookie jar. And when that moment comes, Zuko's not sure the Fire Nation will hold as strong as Ozai believes. He's learned what he could from his time at the Federation, has gotten some idea as to how the other nations are getting on. The Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes are stronger now, maybe even strong enough to beat the Fire Nation in a war that Zuko is sure is close by. The Southern Water Tribe especially isn't the untrained, cowed people Ozai had easily manipulated a decade ago. They're trained, they're smarter, and they're angry. Zuko suspects the Earth Kingdom is, too. Ozai is courting a war Zuko doesn't think he can win.

Zuko brings a hand to his forehead, cringing as he remembers how Ozai’s mismanagement and imperialism got them to where they are. The incident between the Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island was particularly ridiculous. Zuko had learned in school, just like everyone else, that Ozai had encouraged Kyoshi Island to defend itself against a power hungry Southern Water Tribe. He remembers how shocked he was upon joining the FNIA and getting access to the classified mission reports. He has a strong mental image of a younger Azula rolling her eyes at his repeated questions about the FNIA's honor, as if there's any honor in spying, Zuzu, as if there's honor in doing anything fun. At the time the truth of Father's involvement was horrifying, but now it's downright embarrassing. Ozai's plan to manipulate the Southern Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island was no feat of a political mastermind; it was clumsy, awkward and unruly. His father has never had a head for politics, and it showed in the brash, cockamamie plan to start a war. It was only successful because the Southern Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island were too broken and bleeding from war payments to notice Ozai's scheming. Zuko's sure the reason Father's plans have been more successful of late is because Azula works most of them, he's lucky his stupid stunt of tricking Kyoshi Island with false Southern Water Tribe ships and attacks worked at all.

Zuko has to catch himself. Ozai might be lucky that Kyoshi Island took the bait and ambushed the Southern Water Tribe, but he knows at least one person who isn't. As long as Ozai sits on the throne he'll do his best to stir up trouble and innocents like Suki will pay the price while the Fire Lord takes his denials to the grave. How long before he starts another war? Not long, Zuko guesses. This can't keep happening. Ozai is dangerous, a poor leader for the world and certainly not good enough to be leading the Fire Nation.

Zuko considers this idea carefully, turning it over in his mind. It’s true, Ozai isn’t good enough for the Fire Nation, not that he’d ever fully thought it before. It’s something he’s suspected for a while, but never been able to admit to himself. The cult of personality surrounding Father had been too strong, and once he’d been banished he’d only ever been able to think about impressing him, winning his affections back. But now Zuko knows the truth. Ozai is cancerous for the Fire Nation. He doesn’t deserve to be on the throne.

(He doesn’t deserve to be on the throne, and that means he didn’t really have the right to banish Zuko, doesn’t it? Maybe. The thoughts on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t speak it. Not yet.)

Besides, Zuko can’t worry about himself, can’t worry about what the implications of Father’s unworthiness mean for him personally. He’s too busy worrying about his people.

He’s left his people in Ozai's grip. He'd finally grown a backbone, and he'd used it to run away with his tail between his legs instead of staying and finding a way to help his people from the inside. Zuko has no delusions about Father, at least not anymore. He knows that Ozai isn't sustainable for the world and not for the Fire Nation, that his people deserve better than what Ozai is capable of giving them, but he's better than the alternative, because there isn't one. He'd pick his father over political instability and revolution any day of the week.

Maybe he should have stayed. Maybe he could’ve done more to help his people from inside the FNIA.

Zuko shakes his head. No, he can’t think like that. What good is he to his people as a mindless drone, as a braindead puppet for Azula to control?

He had to leave. But what about his people? Just what the fuck are they going to do now? The world’s patience for Ozai’s antics, the childish planning of a childish king, isn’t limitless. The Fire Nation is running on borrowed time, draining its cup to the dregs rather than admitting its empty. War is coming. Funny enough, it would be better if the war started tomorrow, so the other nations had less time to grow stronger and nurse their hatred.

And what is Zuko going to do? Start a war just to get to the end of the game as quickly as he can? No, he has to keep running with the Federation. Stop Ozai from the outside. But if he stops them from the outside, he’s a traitor. He can’t sit on the throne. Stop Ozai from the outside, ensure Azula can’t rule in his place, and condemn his people to the uncertainty of political void, of revolution and senseless violence?

He quashes the thought. There’s no answer that will be good for his people. Whatever happens, the Fire Nation is going to lose.

Zuko grits his teeth, shakes his head, tries to chase away these thoughts. He misses Sokka and Suki desperately, wishes they were here to distract him from what he'd rather not think about.

And that's another reason he's feeling so strange now, Zuko realizes, thoughts gratefully pivoting. He's without Sokka and Suki. It's his first time alone without them, in--what? Zuko nearly crashes the boat when he realizes he's only been with them for two weeks, at most. It feels like longer. How quickly they've entrenched themselves in his life, he thinks to himself ruefully.

He thinks about being alone, really alone. Tries to relish in the solitude for all of half a second before discarding it as wishful thinking. He doesn't want to be alone with thoughts he wants nowhere near his brain, he wants the easy distraction of Sokka and Suki, two people he isn't currently sleeping with but vaguely wants to. He misses them, their constant chatter, Sokka’s dumb jokes, Suki’s rolled eyes. The way they work together, that they’ve opened whatever they have up and allowed him in. He feels lonely without them, and he fights back a shiver.

He’ll see Sokka again soon, he reassured himself, he’s on his way back to him. But not Suki, and that’s the other part of the problem: he’s left someone he cares about in a dangerous situation.

The thought blooms in his head, taking solid form. His brain doesn’t hesitate at the opportunity to panic, filling his mind with reminders of the danger Suki’s in, of the horrible things that could happen to her in a Fire Nation prison.

She’ll be okay, he tells himself, willing himself to believe it. She’s okay, she’s tough, well-trained. She can handle herself.

He chants this over and over, trying to force his mind away from anxiety by replaying every fight he’s ever seen her in, pulling evidence of her combat ability to the front of his brain.

She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.

He worries about Mai, too. This much is obvious.

He bites his lip around the sharper anxiety that slides into his throat. This is the thing he's been trying to avoid. This is the thought he's been trying very hard not to think this evening, this past week at the Federation, since he defected. But too late, she's already taking shape in his mind, looking over him with the cool face of disappointment he knows she uses to cover her hurt.

It's a familiar ache in his stomach, he's been worried about Mai since they got together. Since before then, because he's always worried about anyone with the misfortune to spend time around Azula. Mai has the unlucky hand of being born and bred into a dangerous situation, just like he does. The worry he feels for her is as natural as breathing, as constant as the flames he idly dances across his fingers. In their lives, loving someone is a weakness, is a risk they've decided to take.

And now they're paying for it, he can’t help but think. Pain slices through his mind as he realizes they’re well and truly on opposite sides, now.

He misses her, keenly.

It's impossible not to think about her, the route he takes as he manipulates the boat between rocks and islands is one he and Mai had charted together, when they'd wanted to take some time off the FNIA's radar. Mai's shouldered herself to the front of his mind, and now that she's there she's all he can think about. Alone with thoughts of her, he finds himself overwhelmed by the loss, the lack of her beside him. He sighs, gives himself over to the inevitable, and grits his teeth against the tightening of his throat as he lets the physical weight of her drop into his mind. He imagines her perfect face, her quick and clever fingers twisting something sharp between them. Her hair, carefully fixed and pinned around others and loose and flowing alone, alone with him, in the haven of their apartment together. His eyes flit across a variety of faces she makes for herself before settling on his favorite, bare and pale and unmarked, skin under her eyes heavy and eyebrows pinched and drawn from a variety of terrors, but that's okay, because most of them he's seen, too. Zuko pictures her in one of his favorite moments; with her hair down, in the process of removing her makeup in front of the mirror before discarding the rag and coming into his arms. He's not an idiot, he knows what trust looks like on his girlfriend, knows it comes with his getting to see her pale and unadorned, a sight given to him, her mother, and the ancestors alone.

And Zuko went and betrayed that trust. For what's right, he reminds himself, for the fight of good against evil, which makes him a noble fool but a fool nonetheless because, he's realizing, there's no one else like her. No one who understands him like she does. Sokka and Suki are bright and beautiful and getting to know him frighteningly fast and distracting him in all sorts of sushiney ways, but they can't do what she does. They can't sit with him in his past, staring bleakly at his present and hold him as he shakes apart while somehow having hope for the future. They don't know him like she does.

He misses her and worries for her, but it’s tinged with stinging salt, because, like Suki, he’s left Mai in a dangerous situation. Like Suki, he’s left Mai alone, surrounded by enemies.

Zuko grits his teeth, tries to bat the thought from his mind. As much as it kills him to think it, she can't be his priority right now. She just can't. He's thrown his lot in with more important things than the woman he's known as he knows himself. Who knows him as he knows himself, but loves him anyway.

There's a very good chance he won't come out on the other side of this alive, but if he does, he's going to beg for her forgiveness. Until then, he has to have his eyes on the prize. On doing his part to rid the world of his Father.

Zuko squares his shoulders, directs the boat towards Republic City. Tries to let Mai drop out of his mind.

***

By the time he gets to the mainland, his despair tinged romantic fantasies have spun themselves out, to his relief, and he's able to look Sokka in the face after he ditches the boat and makes to Federation Headquarters.

Though maybe Sokka’s been having some despair-tinged romantic anxiety fantasies of his own, judging by the way he grabs Zuko by the arm and manhandles him into an empty room the second he crosses the threshold of HQ. Zuko let’s himself be tugged along, observes the sense of calm that fills his chest at being with Sokka again and wonders what the fuck that means.

When they’re safely alone in a storage closet, Sokka turns to him with wide eyes that fill up half his face easy.

“What happened?” he asks urgently. “Is she okay, did the plan go okay?”

“Suki’s fine,” Zuko reassured him quietly, letting Sokka keep a loose hold on his arm. “She’s fine, we didn’t have any trouble.”

Sokka nods gratefully, before exhaling, backing up to the wall and sliding himself onto the floor.

“She’s okay. If by ‘okay’ you mean 'safely in a prison,'” he jokes humorlessly.

Zuko sits carefully next to him. He doesn’t quite know what to say. Well, he knows he could mention Mai and how he deals with fear for her (poorly), but he doesn’t want…doesn’t want to bring Mai up. Doesn’t want to name his girlfriend and interrupt this moment between them.

“She’ll be fine,” he offers softly instead. “She’s strong, she won’t have any problems there.” This is, actually, not something Zuko can reassure completely, but he keeps his lips sealed as to his dishonesty.

Sokka sniffs him out anyway. “You don’t know that,” he says, flicking his sharp gaze from Zuko’s face to stare sightlessly at the wall opposite. “You don’t know that she’ll be safe.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Zuko says frankly, dropping the act. “But I’ve seen how strong she is, and I can make an educated guess.”

“She didn’t want to go in alone,” Sokka says, pressing his hands over his eyes.

“You didn’t make her,” Zuko reasons. “She knew the risks.” He has a minor debate with himself over whether he can take Sokka’s hand, decides he can’t, then does it anyway, gently threading their fingers together.

Sokka glances at their clasped hands before raising his eyes to Zuko’s. Zuko only manages to meet his gaze for a second before he has to shut his eyes against the questions he sees there. He silently wills Sokka not to ask.

Sokka sighs, and Zuko opens his eyes to see he's turned his face away from Zuko. That hurts, although it's fair, Zuko reasons. And besides, he hasn't taken his hand away.

"I know she's okay, I know she's capable, I just," Sokka squeezes his eyes shut. "I hate being apart from her, you know?"

Zuko allows himself a bitter smile. It seems Mai has slipped in here with him after all. "Yeah, I know."

And Sokka gets it, he must, because he gives Zuko a knowing look, but he doesn't bring it up either.

"How did she look, when you left her?" Sokka asks. Zuko grimaces. "Suki, I mean," he adds in a rush. "When you," he swallows. "When you left her at the prison."

"It was weird seeing Suki in manacles," Zuko answers honestly. Sokka looks a little too helpless for his taste, so he adds "usually that's my thing."

Sokka cracks a smile, and Zuko feels relief slip through his chest. "What do we do now?" he asks, trying to keep Sokka on this side of despair.

Giving him a smirk, Sokka gets to his feet, holding out a hand to pull Zuko up as well. "You get to write a mission report," he says, and Zuko rolls his eyes, allowing Sokka to haul him to his feet. "Great."

***

Sokka gets Zuko settled with the necessary files and sets him up in one of the small broom cupboards the Federation likes to call an office. He makes to leave, but Zuko grunts and motions with his chin at the chair crammed in across the table. Sokka falls into it with little argument. He doesn't really want to be on his own, anyway.

He tries not to think about Suki while Zuko fills out the report, with minimal success. Instead, he distracts himself by forcing thoughts of Zuko whirl up and obscure his vision, thoughts he'd tried to keep pinned down and out of sight. He wills the faded memories of their kissing in Ba Sing Se play on a loop in his mind. He examines the hand Zuko had held in his own and feels like a schoolboy with a crush. The giddy feeling that whoops in his gut is almost enough to make him forget about Suki. Almost.

Another distraction comes, shockingly, from Pakku, (it's unwelcome) who, after glancing over the report Zuko's just handed him, insists that Zuko be escorted to a cell.

"What?" Sokka shouts in disbelief. "A cell? Why?"

"We still can't trust him," Pakku says, voice self-satisfied.

"Bullshit," Sokka says angrily, stalking after Pakku as he walks to his office. "He just completed a mission for us!"

"Ah yes, how helpful of him to complete a mission that ends up with one of our own behind bars," comes Pakku's sarcastic answer, and Sokka wants to rip his hair out. "You agreed to that mission! Why are you having a problem with it now?"

"I don't have a problem with it, but it's certainly not enough grounds for us to trust him, Sokka. Be reasonable."

"Augh!" Sokka lets out an anguished shout, smacks himself in the forehead. "You're being ridiculous!" he shrieks.

"Sokka, it's okay," Zuko offers quietly from his position by Sokka's side. "Shut up, Zuko," Sokka instructs, before turning his attention back to Pakku and advancing on him seated behind his desk. "You didn't even make him use a cell before the mission! What changed?"

Pakku gives a satisfied smile as he sits down at his desk, and Sokka wants to hit it. "Jeong Jeong has agreed that the former Prince of the Fire Nation is too dangerous to be left unguarded."

Sokka takes a deep breath. "Just because you have Jeong Jeong sucking your cock doesn't mean—!"

"Sokka!" Pakku thunders, shoving his desk at Sokka and rising to his feet, murder on his face. "Enough!"

Sokka doesn't care, he's too angry to back down. "No! I'm not going to let you--"

"You are in way over your head," Pakku says dangerously. "Take the prisoner and--"

"If you think I'm going to take him and put him in a--"

"Fine!" Pakku roars, striding past the two of them and flinging the door to his office open. Sticking his head out, he screams "you! Boy! Come here!"

Seconds later, a trembling secretary makes his way into the room. If Sokka had any emotions to spare, he might feel sorry for him. "Take this prisoner to the cells!" Pakku snarls.

The secretary has one time to cast a fearful look at Zuko, who admittedly towers over him and has forearm muscles coming out of his ears, before Pakku loses patience.

"Now!"

The secretary gulps, grabs Zuko by the arm and pulls him determinedly from the room. Zuko goes willingly, giving Sokka a pointed look before he exits the room.

Satisfied, Pakku rounds on Sokka. "Now. Get out of my--"

"Are you seriously going to keep him in a cell? After what he's done for us?"

Sokka and Pakku continue yelling at each other for another half an hour, only stopping when Piandao barges into the office, grabs Sokka by the shoulder and pulls him toward the training facilities."

"I'm busy right now, think you can tire yourself out on your own, sport?" his master says with a raised eyebrow. Sokka gives him something between a scowl and a pout. He sees the point, but he's not happy about it.

"She'll be alright," Piandao intones quietly, then claps him on the shoulder. "Get to it, kid."

Sokka groans, but unsheathes his sword from its scabbard just the same. Piandao waves in farewell as Sokka sets upon a training dummy.

He does feel better forty minutes later, after he's sweated through his shirt. He's big enough to admit Piandao was right, although Pakku was still being an ass. Pulling his shirt off and using it to mop the sweat off his brow, Sokka exits the training area and makes his way toward the kitchen and the promise of a cup of water. Breathing hard after his workout, Sokka thinks over his conversation, if he can even call it that, with Pakku. Although it felt good to get his anger out, he probably didn't do Zuko any favors, he realizes guiltily. Pakku's always been sadistic enough to take his anger at Sokka out on others, and he's sure that today is no exception. He's promised Zuko more time in the cell than out of it.

Passing through the snarled hallways of Federation HQ, he gives everyone he passes a wide birth, offering a sheepish apology at the smell. Finally reaching the kitchen, he slips quickly though the door and fills a small metal cup up with drinking water from the tank, grabbing another for Zuko after a moment's thought. He's probably thirsty, it's doubtful anyone thought to take his drink order after locking him in a cell.

Sokka takes a moment to marvel that two of the three members of his little trio are behind bars. He raises his glass to the universe and it's sick sense of humor, always at his expense, drains the cup, and refills it before leaving the kitchen and heading for the cells.

He's hoping against hope they haven't put Zuko in the smallest, coldest cell HQ has to offer, but Sokka's wasting his time: he has to cross the entire block before he gets to Zuko, crammed into the last cell. He probably doesn't even have room to stretch his legs out to sleep, Sokka fumes to himself.

Zuko's sitting cross-legged on the ground when Sokka reaches him. His eyes are closed. Sokka clears his throat, can't help but rattle the cup against the cell bars, grinning guiltily as he does so. "Hey. I thought you might want something to drink?" He holds out the cup.

Zuko opens his eyes, letting them travel slowly up Sokka's body, lingering on his bare chest. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" he says in his raspy voice.

It knocks the wind right out of Sokka, and he has to stop himself from jerking the soaked shirt over his chest like some maiden in distress. He feels himself flush all the way down to his stomach and curses it.

Will you pick a signal! He wants to shout angrily. Instead he just waves Zuko off. "How's prison?"

Zuko rolls his eyes. "Beautiful this time of year," he quips, and Sokka laughs out loud.

"Don't worry," he reassures him. "I'm on it." He wonders if Zuko believes him, he barely believes it himself. He doesn't know what he's going to do to get Zuko out of this one.

But Zuko doesn't call him on it. "You okay?" he asks instead.

"I'm better," Sokka says quietly. "Thank you."

Zuko nods once. "Whatever you need."

Sokka chews on that for a while. He doesn't know what to make of it, doesn't know if Zuko really means what he says he's offering.

"I've got to go," he says finally. "I'm presenting on our mission." He smiles at Zuko ruefully. "Don't tell me you went and fudged the report."

"I would never," Zuko says, getting to his feet. "Don't you go taking credit for my work."

"I would never," Sokka parrots. He raises his cup, toasting Zuko. Zuko matches the gesture, and they both drain their glasses. Sokka wipes his mouth, takes the cup Zuko hands him through the prison bars. Lets his fingers linger over Zuko's for a moment.

"See you," Sokka says softly.

"I'll be here," Zuko answers, just as quiet. Sokka nods, turns away.

***

The meeting is, by Sokka's standards, a complete bust. The results go over well, but nobody is willing to trust Zuko, and he spends a night in the cell. Sokka tries to make headway on getting him out in the morning, but Pakku is nowhere to be found and Jeong Jeong keeps Sokka busy trying to plan their next move. He agrees to a mission that will send him up North to reconvene with the Mechanist and discuss new technology to counter the Fire Nation’s, brings Zuko his lunch, and spends three hours in an empty office, trying to draw up plans for his trip to the Northern Air Temple and any new ideas to share. By dinnertime he's got a portfolio to show off, has his usual transportation settled, but when he goes to share his work with his superiors he finds Pakku has still jumped ship. Another night in the cell for Zuko.

The next day Sokka finalizes his travel plans with Piandao and decides enough is enough. He's had his fair share of solo missions, what he wants now is company. He packs his bag with enough clothes for two people and makes towards the cell block, escape plans ringing through his brain.

“I’m here to spring you!” Sokka sings, rounding the corner and skidding to a stop in front of Zuko’s cell, and it’s occupant.

Something’s wrong with this picture, and it’s this: the occupant is not currently in the cell.

Zuko has the good grace to grimace, making an aborted movement with the remains of the cell’s lock like he’s going to hide it behind his back. “If you didn’t want me to escape, you shouldn’t have made it out of metal I could melt,” he announces defiantly.

“Should I draw my sword?” Sokka says doubtfully. “Are we gonna have a fight?”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “No. I, uh,” he stutters, drops the melted lock and winces when it smacks on the ground. He stares at it forlornly. “I didn’t think you should go alone.” He raises his gaze to Sokka, looks up at him through his lashes, and if Sokka were made of stronger stuff it would probably melt him, like the totaled lock on the floor, too.

“Good, because I was going to break you out, anyway.” He smiles broadly, dangles the key from his fingers. Zuko’s answering smile is tentative and sweet, and Sokka doesn’t know what to do with it, so he puts it in his pocket. Saves it for later

His grin goes madder. On impulse he chucks the key somewhere behind him, grabs Zuko by the hand. “Let’s go!” He starts tugging him down the corridor.

“Isn’t that key important?” Zuko asks wryly, running to keep up.

Sokka shrugs. “Probably. I’ve got everything we need, let’s get out of here!”

“What will Pakku and the others say?” Zuko asks, grin still peeking out behind his skepticism.

“I’ve left them a note!” He pulls it from his pocket, hands it to Zuko to examine.

Zuko stops to read it, pulling on Sokka’s arm. “Sokka, this note is a joke. There are four spelling errors.”

“So they’ll know it’s from me!” Sokka starts running again. "Come on, just leave it on the table in the main meeting room!"

He runs into the room, stopping suddenly as he realizes it's occupied. He quickly waves a hand behind him, motioning to Zuko not to follow him in.

Piandao closes the file he's reading with a sigh, takes off his spectacles and stands up. "You can come in, Prince Zuko," he calls, and after a moment, Zuko comes to stand by Sokka, not quite next to him but not quite behind him either. Sokka feels a tug at the back of his shirt. "Sorry," Zuko murmurs. Sokka vigorously shakes his head, reaches behind him to grab Zuko by the wrist.

"He's coming with me," Sokka says threateningly. Piandao chuckles. "Oh, I know. I don't like you crossing to the Northern Air Temple alone, either, the mountains are treacherous." He gives Zuko a nod. "Take care of each other. You'll be alright."

Sokka hesitates, reaches out and gives his mentor a hug. "Thank you, master," he says, dropping into the traditional bow. Piandao copies him. "Go on, get going, before someone else finds out."

Sokka nods, grabs Zuko by the hand again and runs out of the room, ducking through corridors until they're through the doors of HQ and onto a trolley, Republic City blinking in the twilight. "There are boats we can take at the docks!" He sings over the noise, frowning when Zuko's hand catches his in a vice grip. "What?" Sokka turns to look at Zuko, and feels his heart stop when he sees who's on the other side of him. Standing in the middle of the trolley, face carefully blank except for eyes so narrow you couldn't thread a needle through them, is Akane Ito.

No, wait. That had been a false name. What was her real one? Sokka stands there, mouth gaping like a fish, and racks his brain trying to remember who exactly this person is.

It comes to him in an instant. No, not Akane Ito. Zuko's partner.

It's Mai.

Chapter Text

It's Mai. Like a spirit conjured from Zuko's brain. It's really her.

His first thought: she looks beautiful. In the sea of cramped bodies and sharp elbows, she stands looking regal. Hair perfect, makeup careful and precise. Royal in her own right.

Fuck, he's missed her. Having her this close makes his skin sing.

He looks at her with what he hopes is joy, but the shock on her face quickly bleeds into something more measured. Somehow, even in the mayhem of the trolley, she notices his and Sokka's joined hands. Hurt colors her face, and she moves away from him, creates some distance even in a crowded streetcar.

This is, Zuko realizes, the last thing he wants, and he reaches for her instinctively, catches her wrist in his free hand. Her lip wobbles, her other hand jerks, and Zuko can feel the tip of her blade edge along the vein in his wrist. He can't help it, he cracks a smile.

"Uh, Zuko," Sokka whispers behind him. "Knife."

As if Zuko needs Sokka to tell him.

He searches her gaze. Feels the blade break his skin, feels a thin drop of blood slide its way toward his hand. Her gaze is hard, assessing, but something softer lurks behind it. Something hurt.

Zuko doesn't breathe. Doesn't blink. Looks her in the face with one good eye and one bad, tries to put everything he can't say into his gaze. Into the unsteady breaths he huffs between them.

Eventually, she sighs. Takes her blade away and rubs a thumb over the cut, stinging touch to soothe away the hurt.

"I guess you'd better come on," she murmurs and makes her way toward the door as the trolley comes to a stop. "You too, Water Tribe," she whispers, before exiting the car. Sokka moves to follow her, but Zuko waits, holding him back for a full two count before getting out. They follow Mai at a distance.

“What’s happening?” Sokka whispers as they tail Mai down a deserted street.

Zuko doesn’t answer. It’s not like he knows, anyway.

“Are you okay?”

Zuko flicks his eyes toward Sokka, takes in his worried expression, before turning back to Mai’s figure, moving at a deliberately slow pace ahead of them. Again, no answer. Sokka should stop asking things Zuko doesn’t know.

"What about the plan to visit the Northern Air Temple?" Sokka asks quietly. "I still have to meet with the Mechanist to go over some new tech."

This Zuko can answer. "This first," he answers in a low voice. "It won't take long."

It shouldn't. He doesn't think this is going to end in reconciliation. Zuko's not sure if he should be walking towards or away from wherever Mai is leading them, whatever lies waiting for him there.

She's changed apartments.

She’s changed apartments and—there’s something else. Her new place looks familiar enough, same austere furniture and minimal decorations, but there's something different, something he can't quite put his finger on. This apartment is not like the one he remembers her having before.

“FNIA confiscated your stuff.” Mai says flatly. Ah. That’s it. It’s Mai’s apartment, without Zuko. Abruptly, he feels sick with himself and his choices.

"How...how are you?" he asks, ignoring the pit in his stomach. Mai scoffs a laugh, eyes burning bright with betrayal. He supposes this is the kind of answer he deserves.

"Look, Mai, I… I want you to know--"

"Not here," she cuts him off quickly, glancing at Sokka. She was never one for an audience. "Somewhere more private."

Sokka speaks up. "I'm actually not totally comfortable letting him out of my sight," he volunteers in a careful voice.

Mai inhales sharply, eyes flashing, and Zuko neatly places himself in front of Sokka as he sees her reach for a shuriken. "You know nothing," she spits at Sokka. "Nothing about me, nothing about him, nothing!"

"Mai, Mai, it's okay," he murmurs, something odd racing in his stomach as he thinks of the way these two people are struggling to protect him. If only it weren't from each other. "Sokka, it's fine," he adds, turning to address him. I trust her, he adds silently.

Sokka nods, turning a hard gaze on Mai for a second before holding up his hands in concession. "Hey, it's your call."

Zuko smiles at him, Sokka grins back, and Mai clocks it, striding suddenly out of the room toward what must be her bedroom.

"If you're not back out in fifteen minutes I'm coming in," Sokka whispers. Zuko can accept that.

He follows Mai into the bedroom.

She's waiting for him, standing in the corner across from her bed. The room is small, and, like the rest of the apartment, sparsely decorated, although Zuko recognizes the few personal items Mai's chosen to display. The portrait of her mother that sits on her vanity table, the walrus-tooth dagger she'd snagged off a Water Tribe trading ship. Nothing from him, none of the gifts or mementos he's given her. He wonders if this is because the FNIA took those things as well, or if she doesn't want the memory of him polluting her bedroom.

The bed, however, is the same. Zuko's lied on it, in it, many times. He tries to guess at what that means.

It's dark in the room, night falling over Republic City and offering little illumination. Zuko can barely see her.

"Mai, I…" he falters in the darkness. "How are you?" he asks again.

No answer. The two stand in silence, his actions an unfamiliar blunt edge between them.

"I'm sorry," he tries. She lets out a wet laugh, and suddenly Zuko can't stand not seeing her. He sends a jet of flame moving through the air to hit the candle on her bedside and set her alight.

He does it quickly, as fast as he can, hoping to surprise Mai. Eyes fixed on her face, there are a few moments before she can manage to get her expression wrapped up and packed away. Her face is wrecked, and Zuko feels the floor drop away from him.

He moves to take her into his arms, but she holds up a hand. “I don’t think you get to do that anymore,” she whispers. Her face doesn’t waver, but a lone tear drops from one eye.

Ignoring her, Zuko moves to wipe it away. He half wonders if she’ll bite him, almost hopes she will.

“I miss you,” he says softly.

“I don’t think you get to say that, either,” she snaps, but she stays where she is.

He swallows thickly, feeling like he should say something.

“Mai, I—“ his throat sticks. He says the only thing he can. “I had to.”

“Bullshit,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut. “Bullshit, you didn’t have to—fuck.” She jerks away from him, takes a shuddering breath. “You didn’t have to leave me there.”

He doesn’t reach for her again. “Would you have come with me?”

She narrows her eyes at him, looks away. “It isn’t that simple.”

“I needed out,” he insists. “I couldn’t keep living like that.”

She laughs harshly. “With me, you mean.”

Zuko winces. “You know I don’t mean that.”

But she doesn’t seem to hear him. “You could have chosen me,” she says in a low voice. “I’ve done so much for you, I’ve stood by you for so long—“

Zuko closes his eyes. “I know.”

“I’ve supported you after every crack and hit from Ozai and Azula,” she continues, voice growing heated. “I’ve put myself in danger for you, because I lo—“ she cuts herself off.

Zuko looks at her hopefully, but she shakes her head. “You don’t get to hear it, because you chose them.” She stabs a finger at Sokka outside her bedroom. “You chose them over me.”

“I found an out and I realized I had to take it, so I did. I wasn’t choosing anyone!”

"Bullshit!" she screeches, voice foul.

"Nothing happened!" Zuko finds himself shouting. "Nothing happened with them, how could it, when I--"

"Nothing happened now," Mai says in a low, hard voice. "Nothing happened now, but what about in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko looks at her helplessly.

Mai lets out a mean laugh. "That's what I thought," she says viciously. "I've seen how you look at him, that nobody from the Water Tribe, I've seen you lusting after him like some kind of--"

"Stop," Zuko says, feeling caught out and furious in equal measure. Hot shame and boiling rage rip up and down his throat. He can't take this. Not from her. "Don't talk like that--"

"Look at you," Mai says cruelly. "The banished prince, the jilted heir, pushed out and unaccepted by the Fire Nation for all the right reasons and then some. Sleeping with all the wrong people. I guess Ozai was right, huh? A faggot could never be the good son."

Zuko stops breathing. Feels his inner fire go out. Her words shock him, drench him like water. He spends a few minutes sputtering in the dark, shame and agony roiling in his gut and making him nauseous. What the fuck is he going to do now, now that she's put this between them? Now that she's said this?

Mai stands before him, wearing an evil look he's seen somewhere before while he gapes at her like a fish. As the seconds tick by her expression falters, changes to something like pity? It hardly matters. Zuko barely has time to notice before pure rage reignites the fire in his gut, racing along in his veins and trying viciously to escape through his palms, the soles of his feet, along his tongue. Anger again, familiar and so strong. He's helpless, swept up so suddenly in its grip that a small part of him fears he might drown. The rest of him is senseless, nodding, stomping along to the familiar beat of anger, ready and willing to surge along with it toward whatever consequences lie in wait. It's all he can do not to set the bed on fire, and instead he lets a roar of flame rip from his mouth, the small sensible part of him using what control it has to tilt his chin up, flame clearing Mai's head by inches.

She blocks him anyway, using the opportunity to grab his chin and force his head up further, tilting him off balance. His eye cheats left and spies movement: one of her blades aiming at his throat. Mai was always just a few steps too close to violence. Like him, anger swirling under her skin, but unlike him, packed away where it couldn't be seen. He isn't all that surprised to see it fly to the surface in her as well.

Zuko claws at the hand under his chin, uses the other to grab at her wrist before she can press the blade to his neck. She snarls, struggles, but his strength outmatches hers. She doesn't concede, but suddenly the anger leaves Zuko like a flame snuffed out. Rage flies from his muscles, and all at once the weight of what's happening, of what she's said slams into him, threatens to drag him down to the floor. He sighs, unlocks his muscles so she can get the upper hand if she wants to.

Mai pushes back against his sudden give. Her eyes flash to his, hot and cold and calculating, but he dips his gaze to the floor. Zuko lets go of her wrist, leaving her a second long window to kill him before he gently catches her hand in his, interlocking his fingers with hers around the blade in her palm. She presses the knife down and he lets her, letting himself get cut. Letting her cut him. Cutting himself against her. Zuko isn't quite sure who moved and who didn't, but either way his palm is bloody and her blade is wet with his blood for a second time that evening. Isn't it high time she gets to the one to cause pain, he thinks dazedly to himself. Isn't it her turn to be the one who hurts?

Mai lets up on the pressure on his hand, allows the blade to fall to the floor with a clink. Slides herself down, folding down and into herself until she's squatting with her hands over her ears, head resting between her knees. Zuko collapses on her bed, idly pokes at the long cut on his palm. It stings. He doesn't know what he expected.

"I think you need to get out," Mai whispers quietly. Privately, Zuko agrees, but he can't seem to make himself move. Betrayed as he is, hurt and smarting and licking his wounds all but literally, he still can't leave her. Not really. She pulls him to her, a force unto herself. Zuko half wonders if he would have managed to leave at all if she'd been there calling to him, as she is now, if he hadn't already been separated from her and running a mission by himself. Probably not, he decides. She's still there, under his ribs. That isn't going to go away, he thinks.

At least her words will make leaving easier, this time. At least now he can bear it.

Zuko shifts, reaching out with his injured hand to smear blood over her pillows, because he's dramatic and she's hurt him and this is at least something he can do. He hears something rustle under the pillow, reaches under it and pulls out a folded piece of paper. It's been ripped from a book, he recognizes dully. If she's destroyed my copy of Lao Fei, I'm going to kill her, he thinks woozily. A past symptom of another time.

And then--if she's saved Haiku 136, I'm going to forgive her, even if she doesn't deserve it. A promise with himself.

He opens the paper, holding it right in front of his face blearily. His own handwriting stares back at him. Mai. A poem about them, for them, he'd thought romantically to himself years ago now, scrawling her name as a testament to new love, to true love, to whatever they had then and wherever they might end up.

And where did they end up? Were they doomed from the start? Maybe. Zuko was never going to stick it out in the FNIA for the long haul, he knows that now. He was always going to be the one who left.

Something pangs in his chest. He closes his eyes. Fine. Fine, I'll forgive her. But not now.

He stands, forcing himself to his feet. Crosses the room, steps outside, softly closing the door behind him.

***

Mai is a wreck.

She hears Sokka's shocked exclamation, probably at the blood. As if this could end in something other than bloodshed.

Mai stays crouched on the floor, head between her knees, limbs locked. Her mind focuses only on the look he was wearing when she cornered him about Ba Sing Se. He was with Sokka. He was with Sokka, and he left.

This spells the end of Mai and Zuko. Of whatever they had, of whatever they could have been. Mai wants to vomit.

She doesn't get a chance to mourn, because across the room, her window slides open with a soft schnick. Mai slowly raises her head.

Azula's face appears over the windowsill, candle glinting on the sharp teeth behind her crooked grin. "Good work, Mai. You've led them right to us."

Mai stares at her stupidly. She doesn't understand, can't process what Azula is doing here. "Don't move," Azula orders. "I'm going to follow them."

Azula's head disappears, and Mai hears the soft sounds of her climbing down the fire escape and landing on the cobblestones.

Azula leaves. Mai doesn't move.

***

"Come on," Sokka murmurs, pulling Zuko along. "Come on, let's get somewhere when I can bandage your hand."

Zuko lets Sokka maneuver him. It's not like he can see where he's going, what with the tears pouring down his face like a fucking waterfall. He takes a deep breath, struggling to get control of himself. At least it's dark out. And he's mastered the art of crying silently.

That, ah, that had hurt. Mai had hurt.

But he supposes that's his fault. He'd given her that power. Mai is volatile and angry, just like he is. Has just enough reason to be angry as he does. He should have suspected she would have thrown it back in his face. Mai was never the type to go down easy.

So this is love, he thinks woozily.

He wants to scream at how betrayed he feels.

He trips over his own feet, and Sokka drags him upright. Zuko hisses as Sokka's fingers dig into the cut on his hand. "Shit, sorry," Sokka yelps, shaking the blood off himself. Zuko looks up, realizes they've made it outside. "S'okay," he mutters, as Sokka leads them further down the street.

"Here, here," Sokka says. He stops and pushes on Zuko's shoulders, and Zuko realizes he wants him to sit down. He obeys, half-collapses in a doorway.

There's the sound of Sokka rustling through his pockets. "Okay, I have antiseptic but not gauze or a needle and thread," he announces, holding a bottle of something. "But I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Zuko holds his hand out, accepts the generous amount of disinfectant Sokka pours into it. He doesn't flinch at the sting.

"Does it hurt?" Sokka asks after a moment.

"Yup," Zuko answers monotone. So dramatic, Mai would have said if she could see him. He squeezes his hand shut, making the cut throb.

"I have a handkerchief we can use to put pressure on it," Sokka says, producing it out of one of his pockets. "But I think we'll have to buy something to close the wound."

Zuko waves off the handkerchief. "Don't bother," he says, before creating light, steady flames over the tips of his first two fingers and pressing them into the edges of the cut.

"Spirits, fuck!" Sokka swears emotionally as pain licks into Zuko's palm. He flashes Sokka a grim smile as the feeling of burning devours his hand, snakes his way up his arm, settling into his armpit and somewhere around his heart. It feels good, putting a physical pain to his mental anguish. Like it fits, somehow.

Like he deserves it.

Stop this, Zuko, he hears his Uncle say, in the voice of someone who loves him very much.

"Cut it out!" Sokka shouts, grabbing the hand that's on fire and ripping it away from the wound.

Zuko levels him with a look. "I'm cauterizing it," he explains, as though he's talking to a toddler.

"I can see that, asshole, but the wound wasn't that bad!" Sokka shoots back, taking Zuko's injured hand and examining it. Zuko paints a mean look onto his face, looks at Sokka with a raised eyebrow. He must decide Zuko's hand is fine because he sets it down gently before finally meeting Zuko's eyes.

"What?" Sokka asks defensively, folding his arms across his chest. Zuko scoffs, drops his gaze to his injured hand. Toughen up, he wants to say.

"You shouldn't do that to yourself," Sokka says quietly. Zuko sneaks a peek to see that Sokka is looking at him in earnest, eyes big and worried.

Zuko shrugs. " 'S useful," he answers.

"Not when it's not needed," Sokka says, and puts a hand on his arm.

Zuko shakes it off. 'Toughen up' rings through his head again, and he realizes it's in his father's voice. His shoulders slump as he drops the act. "I need to finish it," he says quietly, and Sokka nods but sits next down next to him, close enough that their shoulders are touching, as Zuko sets his fingertips alight and presses them carefully to the wound on his palm. He still feels like he deserves it, but Sokka's right. He shouldn't do it where it's not needed.

Zuko runs his fingers across the edges of the cut, pulling them back every few moments, to check and see that the wound has closed. Finally, the bleeding stops, and he shakes the fire away from his fingers.

Sokka lets out an exhale. "Please don't ever do that again."

"Can I have the antiseptic, please," Zuko asks quietly instead of answering. Sokka hands it to him, and Zuko pours more of it over the closed wound.

"What happened in there?"

Zuko exhales. "She called me a faggot."

"What?" Sokka says, aghast, face twisted with shock.

Looking over at Sokka, Zuko raises his eyebrows. "I guess you guys have that word in the Water Tribes, too."

"Well, yeah, but no one ever says it," he adds quickly, concerned gaze searching Zuko's face. "She really said that to you?"

"It's pretty common in the Fire Nation," Zuko offers. "But, uh, yeah." He hangs his head, nose dipping to his chest. Slow tears drip past his chin.

"That's not okay," Sokka proclaims, taking Zuko's hand in his own easy, like it's nothing. "She shouldn't have said that to you. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks," Zuko says in an even voice. He can't bring himself to explain the way this word is used in the Fire Nation, that it's an easy insult tossed around with no remorse.

"Fuck her!" Sokka exclaims.

Zuko tenses. "Shoot, I'm sorry," Sokka hurries, "well, no, no I'm not. Fuck her, fuck anyone who treats you that way!" he says decidedly. Sokka looks at Zuko expectantly.

I just did Mai dirty, Zuko thinks in the back of his mind. I just showed Sokka the worst of her. Sokka can't condemn Mai, he doesn't know what it was like growing up in the hyper-heteronormative environment of Ozai's country, where everything that's soft or queer or even too feminine is pruned and punished. In Ozai's court, where you live with a watchdog on your back, ready to pass along whispers of any unacceptable behavior that will hurt and sting and scratch later.

He's also thinking: well here it is. This is his ticket into Sokka's arms.

This is the moment where he looks at Sokka with big sad eyes (eye) and Sokka looks back in understanding and cups his jaw with one hand and kisses him. He's read enough stories. He knows what's happening. He can feel it. He's sure Sokka can feel it, too.

And now Mai's given him the perfect excuse to take what's in front of him. She had been his hangup. His only hangup, if he's honest with himself. Mai said it in her apartment, spoken truth between hurled accusations. He and Sokka have a...a history, and there's still something between them, and Sokka wants to, and Zuko wants to, and Sokka's girlfriend said it was okay, but Zuko's hadn't. End of story, until Zuko's girlfriend had gone and slid a knife under his ribs. Had hurt him enough to make him turn and fling himself into the waiting arms of someone else.

For comfort and...and to hurt her at least as much as she'd hurt him.

He can't. He already knows he can't.

It would make him feel better, Zuko reasons, but only for the moment. He'd only end up feeling guilty. Harsh words in a fight are one thing, but deliberately letting anything happen with Sokka, confirming Mai's suspicions…

No. He can't do that to her, he decides. He won't.

Zuko gently takes his hand from Sokka's, rubs it over his mouth. Sokka looks at him, eyes unfairly heavy. Zuko licks at the skin of his palm, lets the sting of antiseptic echo through his mouth.

Let's the moment with Sokka die, as he so often does.

"Come on," he says, getting to his feet and turning his back on Sokka. "We've got a long way to go before we get to the Northern Air Temple."

He risks a glance behind him. Sokka hasn't moved.

“The Northern Air Temple," he says again. "So we can be back in time to get Suki from the prison.”

This seems to startle Sokka enough. “To get Suki,” he reiterates.

When he meets Sokka's eyes again, they're resigned. "Let's get back to the trolley stop."

They retrace their steps with distance heavy between them.

***

Mai can't seem to make herself get off the floor.

She tries, sends signal after signal through her brain, trying to force her leg muscles to push her upright. Instead, they remain still, clenched and frozen, knees drawn up around her ears.

Michi flits about her brain. She ignores her.

Time passes.

Mai remains where she is.

Michi finally joins her on the floor. Come on, girl. Time to move.

Mai wants to tip onto the rug. No, no, Michi chides, reaching down and placing her hands on Mai's shoulders. Mai senses the echo of her mother's touch. Up, child. You have to fix yourself.

Mai doesn't move.

Before the Princess comes back, Michi adds.

Slowly, Mai pulls herself out of her squat. Gets to her feet.

Come on, Michi says, in front of the mirror. Mai moves across the room, stares at herself dully. You haven't cried, Michi notes. That's good. You don't have to fix your makeup.

I want to take it off anyway, Mai realizes, and reaches for a rag, going to the kitchen and running it under the tap. Drink some water, Michi suggests. Mai ignores her, scrubbing at her eyes as she goes back to her bedroom.

You shouldn't have said that to him, Michi notes quietly. Mai knows this. You probably hurt him.

Good, Mai thinks savagely. Good, I wanted to hurt him.

Will he take you back? After that?

There is no taking me back. It's over. It's finished.

Oh, don't say that.

Mai scoffs. Even in death, all Michi cares about is status.

That isn't it. You were good together. You took care of each other, like your father and I did.

He didn't take care of me! He left me, for someone else!

Well, you'll just have to find someone else, then.

"I won't. Not like him." The thought is a whisper, through chattering teeth. "I'll never find anyone like him."

Always for the cosmic dramas, weren't you, darling? In her mind, Michi is fond. Never passed up an opportunity for melodrama.

Mai wants to slap her mother, settles for digging her nails painfully into the flesh of her arm. Are she and Zuko a cosmic drama? Maybe. Her mother is right, they certainly both have drama to spare. And he is the Crown Prince, that features heavily in the spirit stories.

Is he a Spirit Prince, coming to whisk her away, to take her from everything she knows and build a life for her in the sky, among the stars?

No. That seems boastful. She and Zuko aren't special, even though everything else, their lives, their social status, their circumstances, is. They're not special, they just are. As is. Ordinary. Just two ordinary people who--who love each other. Who take care of each other, like Michi says. Who know how to take care of each other, to make up for the people in their lives that know how to hurt them.

It's always been easy, loving Zuko. The easiest thing in the world, even when it isn't. And, and it's been a privilege. Taking care of him. Being cared for by him.

Tears drip past Mai's nose.

You'll be alright. You'll find your way back to each other.

I won't.

You will.

"He chose them over me! He isn't coming back!" Mai's hands are balled into fists. She realizes she's screamed that out loud.

It wasn't about you. He chose life over death.

"It isn't better, that it's not about me,' Mai says brokenly. She lets the tears fall silently down her face as she stares at herself in the mirror. "I wasn't enough to keep him there."

She imagines Michi putting a hand on her shoulder. He has to protect himself.

Mai doesn't say anything. He's the only hope for the Fire Nation, Michi adds.

"Then you're a traitor," Mai says angrily, brushing the tears from her face. Michi shrugs. Maybe so,

"But I'm not telling you anything you haven't thought for yourself," the two women say together.

Mai sighs, goes to wash her face again and get a glass of water. She sits cross-legged on the floor, sipping at the water, and counts ceiling tiles until Azula comes back.

Chapter Text

The first time Mai meets Azula, she's a ten-year-old schoolgirl.

She meets Ty Lee first, on the very first day. Mai wants to steer clear of her: she's loud, and her clothes are ugly. Mai was tired; Michi had kept her up for hours the night before, drilling her on appropriate behavior and the socio-political status of every one of her future classmates. She hadn't slept well and was acting dour and bored.

But Ty Lee had glommed onto her anyway, had picked out lifeless Mai among a crowd of tittering girls who would match Ty Lee's energy better than Mai ever could.

And surprisingly, after only minutes in her company, Mai realizes she likes Ty Lee. She's slightly annoying, cheerful and tittering herself, but she makes Mai laugh, and Mai can tell she's doing that on purpose. That she sees things, maybe not as much as Mai, but enough to know what she should say and what she shouldn't and when. She just chooses to say the slightly off-color, stupid things to make Mai giggle, and Mai finds herself feeling grateful.

That Ty Lee knows what to say and what not to becomes obvious when the Azula waltzes over.

Later, Mai will wonder why she ever came their way and will conclude that it's because Mai and Ty Lee were the only girls separate from the pack. Maybe Azula knew, like she's sure Ty Lee did, that Mai and Ty Lee were different a little bit like how Azula was different, and they were her best chance at—friendship? Could Azula have wanted that?

It’s hard to tell. Azula wouldn't have wanted equals, Companionship. Or at least, something interesting. Something that could turn useful later.

"What are you doing?" The Princess' tone is disdainful.

Mai is in a dull panic. Mother hadn't told her how to act in front of the princess. Anxiety wraps her in its grip, the fear that she might do something wrong stealing her breath.

Thankfully, Ty Lee pipes up. "We're talking about who in our class looks the silliest!"

It's true, they had been doing that. Ty Lee had started it, beckoning Mai in closer and whispering in her ear in a sweet voice: "doesn't Ren's hairdo look stupid?"

Startled, Mai had choked out a laugh, struggling to disguise it as a cough when Ren had whipped her head towards them, the careful bow of hair placed carefully at the top of her head almost falling over. A warm feeling grew in Mai's stomach. There was a niggling feeling of guilt in her brain, but as long as the other girls didn't hear them, what was the harm? Michi said loads of terrible things about other people out of earshot.

Giggling, Mai had responded: "look at how stiff it is, it's hardly moving! Her mother must have glued it to her head."

Ty Lee had laughed, bright and beautiful. Mai had shivered, and Azula's eyes had flicked towards them from across the yard, and a moment later, here she was.

To Mai's relief, Princess Azula smiles (although it isn't a very nice smile. The edges are too sharp.) It gives Mai courage.

"Kagami's uniform is hiked up around her waist, her underwear is showing," Mai points out in a low voice. Ty Lee laughs again, Princess Azula joins her, and Mai's heart trills.

"Sen's face looks like a muleboar's behind, and Hiroko seems more foolish than a lame ostrichhorse trying to run after its mother."

Princess Azula's voice carries clear across the courtyard, heads turning toward them like a row of dominoes. Ty Lee and the Princess are laughing louder than ever, heedless of Kagami and Hiroko's crumpled expressions. Mai shoves the guilty feeling beating itself against her heart away and laughs with them. The Princess was right, and it was funny. The desire to belong runs desperately under her skin.

The three of them remain together throughout the school day. This has the makings of a little group, Mai thinks to herself. She likes this idea, she's--she's lonely. She feels different from the other girls in her class, but so do Azula and Ty Lee. Maybe they are different.

When she tells her mother, that afternoon, Michi's face stills, color running off of it. Her eyes still, fixed at some point over Mai's shoulder. Her mouth is open, painted lips curved in a soft "oh." She doesn't say anything. Mai has never seen anything like this from her mother and treats the unfamiliar with an excess of caution, dread flittering in her stomach like a small bird.

Later, she realizes her mother was afraid.

Mai waits for her mother to say something, maybe even to congratulate her on securing a friendship with the most powerful ten-year-old in the country, but instead, Michi carefully closes her mouth, rises from her chair in the garden and enters the house, leaving Mai with a sour feeling stinging the back of her throat.

After a few minutes, she tries to follow her, but a servant bars her from Mother's room. "The lady is feeling unwell," she explains.

"Your mother's just resting," her father tries to reassure her over dinner. A servant tries to hush Tom-Tom, who gurgles and screams for his mother. Mai says nothing, silently worries that she's done something wrong.

"She gets like this sometimes," Father continues. That can't be true, Mai's never seen this before. She says nothing, eats nothing. Worries tear through her unchecked.

After dinner, Father kisses her on the head and goes to his study. Mai tries to do her schoolwork, but she's finding it hard to focus on her sums, on her history reading. Is Mother angry with her? Did she do something wrong? Should she not have made friends with the Princess?

At bedtime, she goes to Mother's room again, hoping she'll at least say goodnight. Father intercepts her, shaking his head and bringing her to her own room. "Mother will feel better in the morning," he explains. Mai nods, passively accepts his goodnight kiss. Lies in bed staring at the ceiling, ears straining, waiting to hear his steps in the hallway, until he retires for the evening and she can spy on her parents.

It's half-past ten, and she's securely tucked herself into the lower right-hand section of the decorative cabinet that stands guard outside Mother's quarters, one that used to hold a collection of vases. Nobody had even noticed when she'd hidden half the ugly ceramic works behind some unused bedding with the linens and smashed the rest three years ago. She was going to have to find a new hiding spot soon, she's practically too big for this one already. But for now, she's sandwiched herself noiselessly inside and closed the door behind her, face jammed up to the keyhole so she can see into the half-open door of her mother's room.

"...scared your daughter witless," Father is saying. She imagines him lying on Mother's bed. "She was silent at dinner."

Mai expects Mother to be laying in bed (maybe she really is sick.) Instead, Mother is pacing, flying from one end of the room only to turn and stride to the other. She winds something around her fingers, a ribbon or erstwhile piece of string. She looks strange. It's hard for Mai to tell since Mother keeps jerking around, but there's something wrong with her face.

"Nevermind that," she says quickly, wrenching the string against the forefinger of her left hand. It's flame red, the color stands out stark against her skin.

Then-- "she should be frightened! I'm--" Mother stops, presses a hand to her mouth.

I'm frightened, Mai thinks. Terror rocks into her.

She hears the bed shift, and Father enters her line of vision, takes Mother into his arms. "Surely it isn't that bad," he says consolingly. Mother laughs bitterly, shakes herself free of him and begins pacing once more. "It is, Ukano." She runs a hand through her hair, tangling it. "It is."

In her stillness, Mai can recognize what seems wrong: she's only taken off half of her makeup, and the rest of it is smeared around her face. Mai sees a swipe of lip stain in the corner of her mouth, kohl making ugly darkness under her eyes. Another thing that's alien to Mai: Michi always has her makeup coiffed and perfect or off entirely, and it's usually on. Mai's never seen her in this state of disarray. Another bad sign.

Father sighs. "A friendship with the Princess of the Fire Nation is only beneficial, it brings us power--"

Mother snarls, a sound that seems to rise from the depths of her throat. "You don't know," she shrieks at him in a whisper. Tears glitter on her face. Mai's tongue feels too big inside her mouth. "You don't know what the other women are saying. Rumors fly, especially from the Palace. She's got sadistic tendencies, all of the Palace staff say so, and they're only encouraged by--"

"Careful, now," Father says quickly.

Mother lowers her voice. "Ever since Ursa left, it's gone unrestrained." She sticks the ribbon in her mouth, begins to chew on it. If Mai had done that where anyone could see, Michi would have slapped her. "Stories of her tormenting and manipulating her elder brother, torturing the palace staff just because she can, because they're beneath her--"

"Mai will get invited to the royal palace--"

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" Mother hisses, eyes wild. Her mussed hair sticks out at all angles, and the kohl in the hollows of her eyes makes their red rims look grotesque. Michi is so clearly out of control, so far from the poised and capable woman Mai knows and expects, and she doesn't like it. Doesn't like knowing Mother can become this. She chokes down vomit, watches her mother thrust a finger into Father's chest. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of, that they'll invite her to the palace, and she'll go where I can't follow, and they'll--" she chokes.

Father sighs, gets up and goes to Mother's bureau. Selecting something from it, he takes Mother's hand and leads her to the bed, places whatever he's holding in her fingers. "Finish your thought, Michi," he says quietly. "What will they do to her? They can't hurt her, not physically. Nothing beyond the minor scrapes they can blame on childish roughhousing."

"Those can go far," Michi interjects. She begins to fiddle with whatever's in her hand, and Mai realizes it's a knotted necklace, chain glinting in the firelight. She watches as some of Mother's frazzled attention shifts to the necklace as she begins methodically undoing the knot.

"It will look...bad, if something happens." Her father speaks carefully, Mai gets the feeling he wants to check over his shoulder. She crouches down, stops breathing as snot runs off her nose and drops onto her skirt. "People are...already talking. After that business with Ursa."

Her mother is trembling. "Michi," her father says in a tone Mai has never heard before. He reaches out, takes her mother's chin to physically stop her teeth from chattering. "Stop this." He pulls a deep, obvious breath through his nose, and another. Mother copies him. A few minutes pass in silence, her parents' loud breaths filling the hall. Mai matches Father's breathing, too, and the two-three of them breathe together until Michi calms down. Father puts his arms around Mother again, and this time Mother shudders, leans into his shoulder. Mai can't see her face, but she can see her shoulders shaking. She puts her arms around herself, tight in the cabinet. So this is what Mother looks like when she cries.

"You must have thought this might happen," Ukano mumbles, what could be hours later. "When you married up."

Michi laughs weakly, reaches up to swat him. "I didn't think the fucking princess of the Fire Nation would take notice." She coughs, clears her throat. "That was quite smart, what you said earlier. About them not hurting her."

"I have my moments," Ukano says, rolling his eyes.

Michi goes quiet. "They could, you know."

Mai's stomach clenches. "They won't. It's too dangerous. People will talk."

"They could," Michi mutters. "Ukano, what if--"

"No. Darling, enough." Father begins the deep breathing again, and Mai breathes along with them until she falls asleep.

She wakes up in her own bed. As soon as she opens her eyes, she sees Father is in her room with her. He sits at her windowsill, eyes out the window, and she waits for him to turn his head towards her. When he finally does, his eyes are grave and deep. "Not a word," he says, pressing a finger to his lips.

Mai nods.

Father's lips twitch, and he mimes zipping his lips with his fingers. Mai doesn't suppress an eye roll in time, and Ukano laughs, loud enough to startle one out of her.

"You'll be alright," he says reassuringly. Mai doesn't believe him.

Mother talks to her that afternoon. She enters Mai's room suddenly, like wind blowing clean through the house. "We need to have a talk, sweetheart," she says, explaining herself. She reaches behind her to shut the door, and before it closes, Father silently appears, eyes imploring. Mai nods. As if she'd forget her promise.

Mother takes Mai's hands in hers. "Let's sit down." She sits cross-legged on the floor, motions for Mai to join her. Mai does, staring at her mother through narrowed eyes. Mai has never seen Michi sit on the floor.

She seems to not notice Mai's gaze. This, also, is something that's never happened before.

"I--" Mother starts, stops. Mai waits for her to continue, knowing what she's going to talk about.

"Mai." Mother bites her lip, shakes her head violently, then pauses, smiling apologetically at Mai. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Mai doesn't know what she's apologizing for. "It's okay," she says uncertainly. This seems to bolster Michi, and she gets up, begins pacing around Mai's room. Mai tenses, but Michi isn't as erratic as it was last night. She takes careful strides to one end of Mai's bedroom, pauses, staring at the wall, before turning and crossing to the other side. The concentration on her face is slightly unsettling, but something Mai's seen before. It soothes her nerves.

Michi stops, laughs quietly at herself. "I guess I'll just have to tell you the truth," she says self-deprecatingly. She drops to the ground, folds her legs up from under her.

Mai nods, copies her mother's position. Michi smiles.

"You know Mother grew up in a very different place than Father," she begins. Mai lets out a breath, can't stop her face from screwing up in confusion. She'd thought Mother was going to her about the Princess, why is she talking to her about her hometown out in the sticks?

Michi clocks her daughter's confusion and raises an eyebrow. "You thought I was going to talk about something else," she states.

Mai hangs her head. It's not a question. She wonders how she'll get around her promise to Father.

"When I told you about the Princess at school, you left, and you didn't come to dinner," Mai says carefully, eyes on the floor.

A tense moment passes. Mai wonders if she's going to get caught in the omission.

"So I did," Mother says eventually. Mai's heart stutters, and she throws her head back, looking up at Mother with wide eyes. Mother can always tell when Mai keeps something from her, always. Mai feels no relief at getting away with it, only a dull fear that Mother didn't catch her. Something must be really wrong.

Her shocked expression is something Michi also should notice, should be enough to do Mai in, but Michi isn't looking at her daughter. Her gaze is out the window, the same one Father had been looking through when Mai had woken up this morning, and her eyes are narrowed. "Ukano told me I scared you yesterday," she mutters carefully, and looks at Mai then. "I'm sorry, my girl."

She opens her arms for a rare hug, and Mai all but falls into them. Michi strokes her hair, and Mai presses her face to her mother's chest and wonders just what the hell is going on.

"You know I grew up in a very different place than your Father," Mother begins again. "Away from the Capital, out on one of the fishing islands."

Mai nods, hair sliding against the silk of her mother's robes.

"Life out there…" Mai holds her breath. Michi never tells Mai anything about her life before she met Ukano, and Mai wonders, often, what kind place could birth a creature like her Mother. She's so different from every other woman Mai has ever met, cunning and fierce and all-knowing. Mai has long wanted to know where she's come from. "Things were different," Michi says eventually.

Different how? Mai wants to ask, question burning on her tongue. But she doesn't, because even at ten Mai can tell there was something not quite right about Mother's life on the fishing island. That the things she isn't telling are bigger than the rumors and gossip about state secrets that Michi keeps behind smiling, closed lips. That this might be something Michi is protecting Mai from.

Still, Mai wants to know. "Can we go there, Mother?" she asks.

This is the wrong thing to say. Michi stills, breathing goes quiet. "No, sweetheart," she says, voice steady. Mai wants to get up, wants to see her Mother's face, and she tries to pull away but Michi's arm has become a bar at her back, keeping her in place.

Mai doesn't understand, she thought she was being polite. Mother taught her it's polite to ask about things that people bring up in conversation, that if you seem interested people will think themselves interesting and remember how lovely and important they felt talking to you. What is she doing wrong?

But those rules never worked on Mother, Mai realizes slowly. They only ever worked on other people here. Maybe Mother really did come from somewhere else.

Michi clears her throat, lifts her arm to allow Mai to lean back and look her in the face. Mai scrutinizes her, but it doesn't matter, Michi has already packed herself away. Her face is clear, and she meets Mai's gaze at full force, smiling after a moment, as if to say 'I know what you're doing, it won't work but you were right to try, and I'm proud of you.' Or at least, that's what Mai thinks her Mother's smile means. It's often hard to tell.

"You wouldn't want to go there," Mother continues. "There's no nice clothes, no fancy parties with society ladies, no one interesting to talk to."

Mother has an examining eye on her, sizing her up. Mai can't help but stick out her lower lip. While she likes her clothes most of the time, sometimes she finds them restricting, and she despises the stupid parties and visits Mother drags her to. The other children she's meant to play with are always so boring.

"People wear potato sacks and you have to shit outside in a little wooden house," Michi says quickly, and Mai gags.

Mother laughs her ugly, non-society laugh, the one reserved for her and Father and yet to be heard outside of the walls of this house, and Mai smiles.

"It's different there," Michi says again. "The rules are different, and I… I had to learn, when I came here. How things worked."

She goes quiet, and Mai feels Mother willing her to understand. Mai realizes suddenly that she doesn't like talking about this part of her life, that there's something about this that makes her uncomfortable.

Mai screws up her insides, tries to force her brain to work, to understand what her Mother is telling her without telling her.

"You mean… you didn't know? All the things that you tell me? What to do?"

Mai looks up at her Mother's face. Michi's eyes dip from Mai's, and her mouth puckers like she's sucked on a lemon. "No," she says quietly. "No, sweetheart, I came from the islands. I didn't know anything."

This seems incomprehensible to Mai. Her mother knows everything. What to do in every situation a woman might find herself in, what to say when you like someone but don't want them to know it, what to say when you don't like someone but do want them to know it, how to dress like you haven't tried very hard, how to dress so people know that you've tried very, very hard. Mother knows everything, and she tries to tell Mai but time and time again Mai finds herself forgetting, flustered in the face of her Mother's insistent questions whenever a teaching opportunity presents itself. Michi was born knowing everything, and Mai always has to struggle to keep up.

Except she wasn't born knowing everything. This is earth-shattering.

Mai continues to stare at Mother. Michi's shoulders drop. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, my girl," Michi says quietly.

Mai frowns. She doesn't understand what Mother is telling her, all she knows is Mother isn't meeting her eyes, and this is, again, something that's never happened before. Mother looks familiar, like how Mai felt the first time Mother had left her side at one of the ladies' meetings she'd dragged her to. Awkward, unsure and alone.

She takes her Mother's hand, small in Michi's larger one. "You didn't know? Like me, sometimes?" Mai asks carefully.

Michi whips her head up, eyes searching Mai's carefully. She must decide something, and her face softens. "My clever girl," she murmurs. "Yes, like you sometimes. I didn't know everything, I had to learn. Just like you do. And you know what that means," she says, lowering her mouth to Mai's ear conspiratorially.

Mai leans in, thrilled to be in on the secret. "You can learn, too," Mother says, clear as a bell and twice as loud. Mai leans back, pouting at her Mother as she laughs again.

"But who taught you, Mama?" Mai asks. Mother ruffles her hair affectionately. "Nobody, darling. Mama figured it out all on her own."

Mai is gobsmacked. "But what about your mother? She didn't teach you?"

Michi laughs again, but isn't the private one. It's a foul, mean laugh that strikes Mai as not very funny. "No. My mother didn't teach me."

Mai's on dangerous ground, but she's too young to know how to navigate away from it. "Can I meet them? Your mother and father?" she asks naively.

Michi freezes. As if of its own accord, one hand slides its way onto her own shoulder, pressing thickly. Her face is on the brink of splitting into something, Mai doesn't know what, but before she can see, Michi's other hand flies out and covers Mai's eyes, sitting damp over the top half of her face.

Michi's breathing goes ragged. Mai doesn't know what to do, asks "Mama?" Michi doesn't respond. Sweat from her mother's hand is dripping into Mai's eyes. Mai remembers her Father's slow breathing from last night, slips into it herself. After a few moments, Michi copies her, and they breathe together until Mother's breathing smooths out again.

"No," Michi says in a clear voice, hand still over Mai's eyes. "No, you can't meet them."

Mai stays silent. After a few more moments, Michi takes her hand away from Mai's face. Her eyes are apologetic.

"All right?" she asks.

Mai nods quickly. "Alright," Michi says.

Michi’s hand is still on her shoulder. Her eyes meet Mai’s, she wears a hard, calculating look. Mai submits, let’s her mother look through her, eyes clear, hiding nothing. She trusts Mama with her life.

“I come from the islands,” Michi continues eventually, eyes melting, losing some of their hardness. “I had to learn everything when I got to the city.”

“But why did you come to the city? And who taught you?” Mai asks quickly.

Michi’s lips break into a jaded smile. “I got work in a dress shop, I learned there.”

Mai wrinkles her nose. “But you don’t know how to sew.”

“Right you are, girl,” Mother taps Mai on the nose. "But I got a job there working the front desk, I knew that would be the best way for me to learn about high society. Why do you think that is?"

Mai scrunches up her face, thinking. Here's a perfect opportunity to prove to mother that she's smart enough to be trusted with her secrets. That she wants to learn, like Mother did, and so she will.

Still, try as she might, the answer doesn't come. Mai's face congeals; she doesn't want to disappoint Mother, especially not now.

Michi must feel generous because she gives Mai a clue. "Who comes to fancy dress shops?" she asks carefully.

Eyes lighting up, Mai rushes to say: "All the noblewoman would come to get their fittings, and then you could spy on them!"

"Exactly," Mother nods, satisfied, and pride seems to inflate Mai's body from the inside out, spine straightening in the face of her Mother's obvious pleasure.

"But I never learned anything about the Royal Family," she continues, face darkening. "Not anything real. All I heard were rumors, stories from the mouths of others. Nothing I could trust." Her eyes focus on Mai. "Why is that?"

Again, Mai doesn't know, failure stabbing dull in her gut.

"It's alright, my girl," Michi reassures Mai. "You know nothing about the lives of those above you, little though they may be. It's because the royal family, and those rich enough, have their own live-in tailors. They never need to go to the shops as we do."

Mai's eyes grow wide. "They have that much money?" she asks in wonder.

Mother frowns. "Don't be taken in by money, Mai. More often than not it means nothing. People get it by chance or luck. It's no indicator of real value." She stops, looks at Mai with eyes that are slightly apologetic. "I doubt that lesson will stick. But yes, they have that much money."

Mai holds her tongue, but internally wonders at the riches hidden away at the royal palace, that they can afford to be waited on so closely.

"So I… I don't know, about the Princess Azula," Michi says, not looking at Mai. Michi never liked looking weak, especially in front of her daughter. "I don't know how you should act around her."

Mai furrows her brow. "Really?"

"Really," Michi confirms. "I'll find out what I can from others, and I can tell you the rituals of deference and politeness that everybody knows, but beyond that." She coughs. "Beyond that, you're on your own, my darling."

Mai considers this. What will it feel like, flying without Mother's safety net, walking into a room and not knowing what to do? Not knowing not because she'd forgotten, as is so often the case, and struggling to remember so as to avoid the dreaded, unknown consequences. Not knowing because she'll step into the new, and be forced to make her own choices, to survive by her own ability or not at all. Here is a chance, Mai thinks dimly, or maybe just senses. Here is an opportunity to prove that she's not merely her Mother's daughter, here's the chance to be something more.

It's daunting, but exciting, and as Mai turns it over in her mind, she realizes she's hungry for it. This is not lost on Michi, who raises an eyebrow at Mai's determined expression. "I can do it, Mother."

For a moment, Michi says nothing. Mai isn't sure what expression runs across her Mother's face, gone in a second. "Yes," Michi says eventually. "I suppose you really are my daughter. Yes, of course you can do it. You'll have to."

She sets about teaching Mai what little she does know of the Royal Family. How to bow respectfully upon meeting the Crown Prince, the Fire Lady, and, should it come to that, the Fire Lord himself. Mai learns which staircase she's meant to walk up if she does enter the Royal Palace, when she's allowed to eat if they invite her to a meal, how many steps behind the Fire Lord she'll need to stay should they ever walk in the same direction. When it's finished, Michi sends her away, telling her she has to get ready to meet the Lady Reiko and see if she can learn anything more about the Palace. Mai senses, as young as she is, that something's different, something has changed between her mother and her. It's only later Mai realizes that by befriending Azula, Mai has left her Mother behind, moved into a social class she cannot follow, and that afterward, Michi would sometimes look at her with distrust, uncomprehension, and sometimes outright jealousy. Azula had, already, severed off a small part of her relationship with her Mother Mai can never get back.

At ten, Mai isn't thinking about any of this. Instead, she imagines brilliantly finessing her way around the Princess, manipulating her as easily as Mother manipulates everyone else.

Over the next few months, she and Ty Lee become close to Azula, to the chagrin and anger of the other girls at school. Azula makes no secret that she finds them stupid and boring, preferring the company of Mai and Ty Lee instead. They become something of a group, always whispering and laughing to each other, sometimes playing pranks on the other girls. Even as she delights at being included, it strikes Mai as unfair that, because Azula is the Princess, they never get in trouble, and the other girls just have to put up with their antics. Together, Mai, Ty Lee, and Azula stick chewing gum in hair, cut patterns out of school uniforms, and do anything they can to cause trouble. Michi isn't impressed, but Mai doesn't care. It's the first time she's actually interested in being with another girl her age.

Once, Azula steals frying oil from the kitchens and coats a slick spot in the middle of the courtyard with it. "Wait here," she instructs the other two, moving behind a pillar. Mai follows, a bad feeling in her mouth.

Soon enough, their classmate Akiko runs across, slips, and falls hard onto her arm with a loud "crunch." She immediately begins crying, and Azula laughs, harsh and loud, coming out from behind the column. Mai and Ty Lee follow faintly, and a teacher comes running. Akiko tearfully shows her right arm, badly broken at the wrist where she'd fallen on it. Ty Lee gasps and looks at Mai with wide, fearful eyes. Mai gulps, shakes her head. Azula continues laughing as the teacher helps Akiko to the infirmary. The courtyard monitor and another teacher come together, and Mai wonders if she'll get in trouble. She and Ty Lee are sent home for the day, while Azula stays on like nothing happened. Like it wasn't her fault.

When she gets home, she ignores everyone, goes straight to her room and lies on her bed. Mai tries to be strong, but after a few moments, her expression crumbles. She buries her head in her pillow and sobs. It's okay, Mother said crying was okay as long as no one saw you.

Her bedroom door opens, and Mai sits up, back to the door so she can hide her face. "Mai," her mother says sternly. Mai winces, scrubs at her face with her hands. She hears footsteps, and soon Michi puts a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. At her Mother's face, Mai breaks again, tears leaking down her face. It's okay, Mother doesn't count.

Mother crosses her hands over her hips, scrutinizing Mai. Mai keeps crying, and eventually, Michi sighs, kneels down in front of Mai's bed and puts her arms around her. "You're not crying because you're trying to make me feel bad, are you?" she murmurs into Mai's hair. "You're upset at what happened?"

Mai nods, hiccups. She's ruining her mother's robes with snot. "You know?" she sniffs.

"Yes," Michi's voice is low in her throat. "It wasn't you, was it, darling? You didn't come up with that idea?"

"No," Mai implores her mother to listen. "No, I wouldn't…"

"No, you wouldn't," Michi agrees. "Disdainful, but not cruel. Never cruel." She sighs, uses the edge of her sleeve to dry Mai's face. "This is the first time you're seeing power for power's sake, darling. I'm sorry. Sometimes people do things like this because they can, because no one will stop them. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it, if you keep being the Princess' friend."

Mai considers this carefully. "Can I… can I not be the Princess' friend?" she asks in a small voice.

Slowly, Michi shakes her head. "No, darling," she says softly. "Even I can't get you out of this one. Spurning her would be more dangerous, for all of us." She cups Mai's face in her hands. "You'll have to be strong."

Feeling trapped, Mai cries harder. Michi lets her, wiping away the tears as soon as they fall. Eventually, Mai quiets.

Michi sucks on her teeth. "You mustn't think it's okay," she says in a sudden rush. "To do that to others. Cruelty for sport is evil, you cannot forget that."

Mai nods.

"If she…" Michi stops, swallows. "If she does that to you--"

"Azula would never," Mai cuts her off, shaking her head. "We're friends. She wouldn't do that to me."

Michi looks at her, unconvinced. "She wouldn't," Mai says forcefully.

"Okay, sweetheart," Michi gives up. "If you say so." Surprisingly, she envelopes Mai in another hug.

Mai holds onto her mother as long as she'll let her. Trembles. For the first time, a dull fear of the future sets a pallor over her mind.

She remembers Michi's fear, the very first day she'd met the Princess.

Two nights later she'll pinch herself awake until the moon is high in the sky, then sneak into Father's study and steal a letter opener. She remembers the blade Michi hides under her clothes. If she can do it, Mai can, too.