Fathers in Arms

Three little boys, bundles of warmth and sweetness, swarmed over Sokka like kittens craving attention. They were close in age, one, three and four, full of energy and mischief. The Water Tribesman took it all in his stride. He laughed along with his sons, tickled them, told them silly, exaggerated tales and promised a game of 'boomerang always comes back' later on.

The young Fire Lord watched from the doorway to the sitting room. He was entranced. Other than Iroh with Lu Ten, he'd never seen a father so easy and affectionate with small children. Sokka made fatherhood look like nothing but hours of delightful play. Then again, sometimes he was nothing but a muscular, overgrown boy himself.

"How do you it?" Zuko entered the room and found a seat across from the mass of maleness. He shook his head, dumbfounded.

Sokka had no idea what his friend was talking about. "Do what?"

"With the kids, you know, act like such a good father?"

"I don't act like a good father, Zuko. I am a good father."

Zuko's face dropped and the hands that sat in his lap twisted together like the gnarled branches of some old tree. "That's what I meant. They love you. They want to be with you."

"Um, yeah, it's okay, Zuko. Look is Suki around?" He was starting to feel uncomfortable, like Zuko might be about to spill a bunch of emotional type stuff in his lap.

"Oh, no, she and Mai left a few minutes ago. They're shopping in Capitol City for baby things."

Damn! Suki's better at this kind of thing.

Sokka lifted the youngest boy off his shoulders and deposited him on the ground like a sack of rice. "Oh." The two other children plunked themselves down on the plush red carpet and began to play, each of them pulling a small toy from a pocket. He glanced at Zuko and sighed. "Always have toys handy."

"Ah…." Zuko tapped the arm of his chair. "Toys."

"Check diapers frequently and if at all possible get someone else to change them. You being a royal, that shouldn't be a problem." He laughed. "Sometimes the smell, it just about melts your brain."

Zuko wore a very serious expression. "I want to be a hands-on father." The implication was, of course, that his father, Ozai, was not.

He was hands on with that fiery fist, though.

Zuko's fingers reached for his scar, an unconscious gesture. He rubbed the stiff, puckered flesh and wondered afresh how a father could do that to his child. He wouldn't be like Ozai. He wouldn't. Would he? Did some sort of curse flow through his family's veins? Was he doomed despite his good intentions?

"Okay," Sokka continued, "hands-on; that's a good thing. Suki loves that. Mai will love it too. When is she due?"

Zuko flushed and hated himself for it. The mention of Mai's pregnancy circuitously suggested the sex it had taken to make her pregnant. And there had been plenty of that. "Five months."

"You've got lots of time, but it goes by fast. Nothing can prepare you for it. So don't think you know anything because you don't. Look, you want this child, right?"

"Of course I do." Zuko sat up straight. He was clearly offended. "What are you trying to imply?"

The three boys watched Zuko now, blue eyes and green eyes wide.

"Calm down; I'm not implying anything. I'm trying to make you realize that you'll be fine." Reaching down, he ruffled the wispy hair of his one year old and gave him a grin. "Uncle Zuko gets upset very easily. Don't mind him."

"I'm right here," Zuko huffed, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah, yeah; so you want the baby. And your love for Mai is obvious. You still get all moon-eyed whenever she walks into a room. This is your baby, the one you and she made together. All you'll think about is doing right by him. You'll struggle a bit, and have questions and make mistakes. But you won't be your father because you're Zuko. You're different. I know that. Suki knows that. Mai knows that. Don't you think it's time you believed it too?"

"I, I guess, but it's hard, Sokka. Ozai, he was ….and your father, he's so different." It wasn't the first time that Zuko felt a surge of envy over Hakoda.

"He's great, my dad, and I've learned so much from him. But I'm not him, either, you know what I mean? And you have Iroh." The middle boy crawled up onto his father's lap. Sokka stroked the brown hair and placed a kiss on the little forehead.

"Iroh, yeah." He was not Zuko's father biologically, but had provided the tough love and support, the advice and encouragement that Ozai had never given him. "I want him to be proud."

"He is proud, you idiot. Come here." Zuko stood up and walked over as commanded. Sokka handed him the child. He squirmed in the new set of arms and Zuko held him awkwardly, as though the little body might explode. "Look into Jian's eyes." Again, Zuko did as he was bid. "Could you hurt him?"

"Agni, no!"

"Imagine your boy or girl is in your arms, Zuko. What do you feel?"

"Love." The reply was immediate and sure. "Love."

"You've got nothing to worry about."

Zuko smiled at Sokka. Gold eyes expressed his gratitude. "Thanks, Sokka. You're a good friend and a good dad."

"You're welcome; just don't ever forget about the diapers."

The End

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A/N: I suppose this piece is 'Blame Sokka's' opposite. The idea hit today and I needed some fluffy stuff. I'd be pleased to know if anyone enjoyed it.

Alabaster