(Zutara) Let Me Pretend; Your Soul is Winter Fire

The Guru

He slides the Jasmine tea in front of her before she's even picked up her menu. They're packed, but Uncle has a staff now, and Zuko's considered s senior server, whatever that means. His duties are the same, except there seems to be a special clause that whenever Katara walks in, he's allowed to make her his top priority - if they're not short or it's not too busy. His uncle is a kind man, but not a foolish one.

"House speciality," Zuko says, writing down the order unilaterally for the stock records. The lemur he's often seen riding the Avatar's shoulders uncurls itself from Katara's and leaps onto the table. Both it and Zuko look at the second, empty chair at the same time. "Did you order the extra chair for a monkey?"

"Hm?" She's swirling the tea in her cup with an idle finger.

"Katara?" He pops the note pad back in his apron. "Everything okay?"

They're in a limbo he can't define but knows he's the cause of. Kissing her in the apartment would have been a mistake for so many reasons, and in true Katara fashion she's decided what some of his are for him in an effort to avoid confronting them or a fight. It's for the better, yet he hates the space it's put between them.

He hates it even more how much of an omen it is of what's to come.

Before, he'd always had hope that once Fire Nation rule became absolute and the ashes had settled, she'd slowly come to realise what he did was right. Reconcile was a distant thing, but it was a tether he hoped would bring them back together, eventually.

That hope is gone now. Stone cold pragmatism has taken its place. She won't forgive him. She'll hate him. She'll banish him from her life all over again, and make sure it sticks.

But by then she'll be in a group again, as safe from Azula as he can get her. Knowing that, he'll live an unsatisfactory life, probably in some prison once Azula tracks him down. If he's lucky, and she's in a good mood.

"Katara?" He questions again when she doesn't respond.

"Oh!" She blinks up at him, looking around her. The Jasmine Dragon is bustling with conversations of stock trades, warehouse arrangements, supplies being shipped to the war front, and what the afternoon heat will mean for the pink pompom like flowers braided into the hair of the high society ladies. Katara blinks owlishly at it like she's seeing it for the first time.

"Should I get you something a little stronger?" He means it teasing. She doesn't respond. "What's going on with you?"

"I made a fool put of myself in front of the Earth King's Generals," she gripes. Her elbows hit the table and she slumps forward over them. "It was meant to be an ice breaker; they were all so tense. I got nervous."

"How bad was the joke?" Zuko asks, knowing already what Katara gets like when non-combative pressure starts to mount. She's the smartest girl he's ever known, except maybe Azula, though that's more a ruthless cunning. But the second Katara starts to feel like she's got something to prove, she goes all in. It has varying effects. He wonders what other way's she's proved herself in these moments of character.

"They were pushing around these little figurines on a map and Momo jumped on them and started breaking them, so I said maybe Momo was all we needed and-"

"Ooff," Zuko chuckles in sympathy. "Didn't take?"

From under the table, Katara produces a scroll, waves it at him, but puts it away before he can ask about it. "I'm on messenger duty. Spirits, why did I say that? Those men will never take me seriously."

"If they don't take you seriously after you helped collapse a corrupt government conspiracy regime, then I only hope a War comes to Ba Sing Se. Kidding!" He quickly back peddles when her head shoots up. "I'm kidding, Kat. It was a blunder in a high-pressure situation. We all make them."