Writing Resting in a Raze can be depressing, so I'm writing this. It's happy, and happy is good! Updates will be a bit sporadic, probably whenever a humorous mood strikes me. Hope everyone enjoys! Obviously this chapter is just setting the story up, but still.

And I don't expect this to be long at all. Maybe four installments at the most.

Rated 'M' for what will sure to be amusing sexy times.

Let me know your thoughts. :D

The fighting had gotten worse.

At first it had been over small things, like which side of Zuko's bed Katara would sleep on, and why couldn't Zuko wake up for meetings a little later in the morning?

And then other situations began to factor themselves in, such as Gran-Gran getting sick and Zuko not being able to get away from his duties long enough to see her, to him making Katara a new necklace to replace her mother's, not understanding that her mother's necklace was her most precious possession.

"The Southern Water Tribe doesn't even participate in the whole necklace thing!" Katara had snapped at him when he'd presented her with the pendant attached to the shiny red ribbon. Her fingers had been closed over her mother's necklace the whole time, as if she couldn't let go.

But those fights they got over.

It was Zuko not being able to attend Sokka and Suki's wedding that was the breaking point.

And it's not as if Zuko hadn't wanted to go. As a matter of fact, he'd had it marked on his calendar for months and had ordered more wedding gifts then was appropriate.

But then tensions had escalated between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, and Zuko was forced to stay behind.

Katara was open minded about most things, and understanding toward nearly all things, but she couldn't fathom the concept of anything having more importance then family, including duty.

The day she returned from the wedding was the day when their relationship truly began to fall apart.

Zuko couldn't remember what he had said. His mind was completely blank at this particular moment.

He'd snarled something rude to her over their usual morning tea. And he'd only said it to rile her up, to annoy her, to irritate and frustrate her as much as she was irritating and frustrating him. And he'd gotten the exact opposite of what he'd wanted.

Katara had sat her teacup down, her eyes turned toward the table. When she finally looked up at him, Zuko felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"I don't think I want to get married anymore," she said, voice twinged with both sadness and resentment.

Zuko began backpedaling. Fast.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I—I didn't mean it, Katara. I wasn't thinking—"

"That's right!" she snapped, blue eyes suddenly blazing. "You never think before you speak! And then you think that everything can be erased with just an apology. Well, I've got news for you—"

"I never think?!" Zuko interrupted, incredulous, all of his guilt washed away as he mind prepared for another fight. "You don't even have a filter! You just say whatever the hell comes into your head and then get mad when other people don't like it!"

"I don't have a filter?" She shrieked, anger sky rocketing into rage. "You word vomit more than anyone else in the universe and you have the nerve to tell me—"

"I don't word vomit!"

"Stop interrupting me!"

"You stop interrupting me!"

"That's it!" Katara slammed her fist down onto the small table and stood up swiftly, flinging her chair back in the process. "I can't deal with this anymore. I can't deal with you."

"Well… Well, I can't deal with you anymore, either!"

"Oh wow, what a great come back."

"You're impossible!" Zuko stood up, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his haste to chase after the one girl who could make him feel so much in such a small space of time. And even if they were mostly negative feelings these days, they were something.

Katara, now standing by the door to their bedroom, narrowed her eyes at him. "No, you're impossible, Zuko," she bit out. "And I don't want to marry you anymore."

Zuko opened his mouth only to spit out sparks, fists clenching as Katara slammed the door behind her.

Uncle Iroh could hear every word to his nephew and future niece-in-law's fight. Every. Word.

Most adults would be upset to hear a young, formerly loving relationship crumble. But not Iroh.

Because Iroh knew the main problem to their relationship—neither understood the other.

But that, like many things, could be fixed with just the right amount of patience and Spirit involvement. And Iroh happened to have an interesting relationship with the Spirit World.

The old man quickly snuck into his nephew's room after the spat, intent to get there before any servants did.

The two teacups that the young couple had been drinking out of were still blessedly sitting where Zuko and Katara had left them, slightly rattled and only half drunk.

Iroh couldn't conceal his grin as he picked them up, careful not to spill any precious tea.

He'd always wanted to try this!

Usually reading settled Katara's mind.

But not tonight. Tonight she felt sick to her stomach with grief. Grief over herself, grief over Zuko, and grief over she and Zuko's doomed relationship.

Because doomed was all they were ever going to be. They'd been trying to make it work for months now, but to no avail. They kept fighting, kept clawing at each other's throats, kept saying things to purposely upset the other. And make-up sex and sweetly spun words weren't the quick fixes like they'd used to be.

Instead they just made the both of them feel all the more shallow.

Katara sniffed and pushed the scroll to the side. She'd holed herself up in her old guest room, the one she'd used to stay in before she'd moved into Zuko's room. She thought that it'd be comforting, to get away from him, but instead she felt alone, felt unwanted.

And he was probably stewing in his own anger, she knew. Zuko did that. He stewed, raged, and then apologized, sending her wide, golden puppy eyes in the process that always made her forgive him. Katara could never stay angry with Zuko for too long. Or at least, she used to never stay angry with Zuko for too long.

Now it felt as if she'd been angry with him for months.

And really, what good was a man who constantly put his country over his family? That had been their biggest, most consistent argument. And it was an argument that neither of them wanted to back away from.

Zuko would sacrifice his friends and family for the good of his country, for the good of the world.

Katara didn't have it in her to do that. She would sacrifice everything, including herself, for the happiness of the ones that she loved.

Quite simply put, she and Zuko had reached an impasse.

They weren't going to work.

The worst part was that she still loved him.

The next morning Katara woke to a servant knocking on her door at an hour that was much too early.

Honestly, didn't anyone sleep around here?

She moaned, arms knocking back the silken sheets that had been wrapped themselves around her. She rolled out of bed, feet hitting the floor like a cat's, and opened her eyes tiredly.

And then she screamed.

Because not only was she in Zuko's room, but she also now had a penis.