Title: Happy Endings and Things
Author/Artist: the general girl
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender, set 10 or plus years post finale.
Theme: #25, fence
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon.
Aang, the Great Avatar, the Savior of the World, the Wise One, the One Who Kicked Ozai's Ass (the last courtesy of Toph, OWKOA for short), was currently standing in front of a half painted fence in only a pair of shorts, white splattered in thin streaks and wild blotches across the skin of his chest and arms.
"What are you doing?"
At the sound of Katara's voice, Aang shifted into a slightly more dignified pose before turning around to greet his newly pregnant wife, bare toes peeking out from a long, light nightgown in the front door of their house in Ba Sing Se, one hand resting lightly on top of her still flat stomach and another rubbing sleepily across her eyes. Her hair was sleep tousled and a light sheen of sweat covered her skin from the summer heat.
Aang thought she looked beautiful.
"Aang?" She prompted again.
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged, paint-dipped brush still in one hand. The flicking motion splattered another few drops of paint over his arm.
"My book?" Katara arched an eyebrow, skepticism coloring her voice, "Which one?"
Aang's spare hand was rubbing the back of his head now, "The pink one that you're always carrying around. I checked it out the other day and the ending said something about every girl's dream being about white picket fences and a dog..."
Katara's eyebrows now both shot up to her hairline, but before she could say anything Aang was speaking again, "Uh, we already have Appa so I didn't think you'd want a dog and we didn't have a fence so I thought I'd build you one...?"
His wife's face immediately softened. Heedless of her bare feet, Katara stepped from the cool shade of the house and stopped in front of the fidgeting man (man now, yes, the lean muscles of his back flexing under smooth, sweat slicked skin and his corded arms, the broad shoulders, more than enough evidence of that). He immediately protested, bouncing up with a light push of air, paint brush forgotten on the dusty floor as strong arms circled her waist in case she stumbled. Katara smiled , lowering her head until it rested in the crook of his neck.
It was warm and sweaty but he still managed to smell like clean mountain wind and she felt safe, was sosafe. And even though he couldn't see her face, he could feel her lips curve as she pressed them in a kiss against the damp skin of his neck, her voice vibrating against his throat in a soft hum as she said, "I don't like white and I'm allergic to dogs."
That was all he heard before Katara's head shot up and she covered his mouth in a different, altogether more urgent, type of kiss, arms tugging insistently at his to follow her into the house and participate in something much more productive and rewarding than painting.
Aang had no problem with that.
a/n: Because Aang's adorably clueless and sweet like that (And he's about to get his own happy ending, nudge nudge wink wink).