In all the time he'd known her, Zuko couldn't remember Katara ever looking quite so frazzled and drained. Her eyes were ringed with darkness and her eyelids kept drooping lower, but at the same time, she was full of a frenetic, restless energy. Zuko wasn't certain when she'd last taken the time to sit down, much less sleep. She paced around the room, bouncing slightly, with their daughter's small, dark head resting on her shoulder.

"Come on, Kya." Katara pleaded, rubbing the infant's back through her tiny red outfit. "Just go to sleep, sweetie."

"Kya isn't the only one who needs sleep."

The remark earned him a glare. "It's not my fault that our daughter inherited your stubbornness."

A part of him desperately wanted to point out that Katara was every bit as stubborn as he was—no matter which parent their children took after, they'd been doomed from the start. And judging by Kya's vivid blue eyes and head full of wild curls, it seemed likely that she had inherited more from her mother than her father. Not that that bothered Zuko, but he knew better than to call attention to it right now.

Instead, he smiled and kissed her forehead. "If she takes after me, at least we know she'll always listen to you."

"Zuko!" She pulled away, bouncing a little faster. "I can't stop moving. Every time I do, Kya starts crying again." Her voice went high, and her eyes looked frantic. "She hasn't slept for more than an hour in three days." Katara began pacing again.

"Katara," Zuko said quietly.

"It's fine. I've got this. I just have to keep walking around, and sooner or later, she has to go to sleep." Her pacing sped up.

"Katara."

"This is normal, right? All babies go through a phase where they just don't ever sleep, right?"

"Katara." Zuko stepped in front of her and caught her by the shoulders. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know!" She threw one hand up. "I don't remember!" Kya began to fuss again, and Katara's face crumpled as she settled back into bouncing and rubbing Kya's back. "No, no, no, sweetie. You need to go to sleep."

She was almost crying. He heard it in her voice, and although the tears hadn't quite risen to her eyes yet, Zuko could tell it was only seconds away. Agni, she was exhausted. "Okay." He scooped Kya up and cradled her against his chest. "Go and get some sleep."

"But you have—I don't know—fifteen meetings today, and somebody needs to watch Kya, and—"

"I have two meetings, Katara. And they can both wait."

Her eyes welled up. "But the council and your advisors—"

Zuko shifted Kya so he could hold her with one arm. She was already fussing louder, working her way up to a full-fledged wail. "They'll have the day off." He pulled Katara into a one-sided hug. "If I have to give the entire palace the day off so I can take care of my wife and my daughter, I will."

Katara buried her face into his shoulder. "I'm not cooking," she mumbled.

With a smile, Zuko kissed the top of her head. "Fine. I'll give half the kitchen staff the day off today, and the other half can take tomorrow off. Is that better?"

"Mhmmmm." She nodded. "Sure you want to watch her?"

"Of course I'm sure," he answered. "Go sleep. We'll be fine."

Zuko wasn't sure whether Katara was listening to his last words. She was practically asleep on her feet. But that didn't matter. Katara wandered off to bed—Zuko followed just far enough to see her flop face-first into the pillows—and he hoisted Kya up against his shoulder.

It took some time to quiet Kya, and considerably longer to rock her to sleep, but the weight and warmth of her little body resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her tiny fist latched onto his tunic—it was perfect. She was perfect. And when she was finally asleep, her thick black lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, Zuko pushed out through the nursery doors.

The nursery opened to a quiet, well-shaded courtyard, and Zuko settled onto a bench. Soon enough, the summer would turn the air thick and heavy, too hot for even his comfort, but for now it was cool and still, silent save for the birds overhead. Kya made a contented little sound and nestled into the crook of his neck.

Smiling, Zuko poked at her hand, and Kya grabbed onto his thumb.

"You must be taking lessons from your mother," he said quietly, his breath tousling her downy black curls. "You're a quick learner just like her. You already know how to make me smile every time." He leaned back and let his hand close over hers. "I could stay right here forever."

When Katara finally woke up, she tensed, expecting to hear that all-too-familiar wail from the nursery. At least she was awake this time. Zuko was right. She'd needed to sleep more than she realized.

But the nursery was quiet. Perfectly, blessedly quiet. With a contented sigh, she buried her face into the pillows. She could sleep all day if she wanted to. No one would stop her. No one could stop her.

For a while, she convinced herself that she would do exactly that. She was still tired, after all. A few more hours of sleep couldn't possibly go amiss.

But—she wasn't that tired. After a few minutes, she found herself staring at the ceiling, not quite able to keep her eyes closed. This was nice, having a chance to relax on her own. Kya was a month old, and in that month, Katara had hardly been apart from her daughter. A little time away had to be good for her.

But Katara was getting restless. She wasn't good at sitting still—lying still?—well, she wasn't used to not having something to do. Besides, she was starting to miss Kya. And Zuko.

She crawled out of bed and padded barefoot into the nursery. No Zuko, no Kya. She caught a passing glimpse of her sleep-rumpled hair in a mirror and made a face. Yuck. A trip through a windstorm in the Foggy Swamp would leave her looking better than this. Oh, well. Zuko had seen worse.

She found them in the courtyard, Zuko stroking Kya's hair while she slept on his chest, letting out tiny, whispery snores.

"What do you think, Ky?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble. "Would your Grandpa Iroh let me abdicate for a few years so I could stay with you and your mama all the time?"

Katara smiled. They looked so warm and comfortable together—and it was rare to see Zuko this relaxed. "Only if you let him turn the city into an oversized Pai Sho board." She kissed Zuko's scarred cheek and curled up next to him on the bench. "How long has she been asleep?" she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Almost as long as you." Zuko gave her a small smirk. "It really wasn't that hard to get her to sleep."

Narrowing her eyes, she poked him in the ribs. "No need to be smug. I get it, you're a great dad."

His smile softened and he rested his hand on Kya's back. She snuffled and her mouth opened a fraction.

Katara placed her hand lightly on top of Zuko's. "Have you tried putting her down yet?"

"Hmm?" He looked up, forehead creasing in confusion.

"In her crib?" Katara said. "Where she sleeps?"

Zuko still looked baffled.

"Zuko, we can't hold her all the time. That's the real problem. She sleeps fine when we're holding her, but she doesn't like being put down."

"I didn't think of that," Zuko admitted after a pause. With a sigh, he stood. "Come on, little lady. Let's see how you like your crib."

Kya didn't so much as stir as Zuko lowered her into her crib. But the second he pulled his hands away, Kya opened her eyes, scrunched her nose, and began to cry.

"Oh no." Zuko leaned over the rail of the crib. "No, Kya, don't cry." His eyes were wide, his voice pleading. Kya cried louder. Looking alarmed, he scooped her back up. "Shh. Shh." He held Kya up against his shoulder and bounced lightly. "Katara, what am I supposed to do?" he hissed.

She couldn't help it. She laughed and stretched upward to kiss him. Face hovering next to his, she whispered, "I have no idea."

Author's Note:

Once again, I'm up way too late trying to get this thing wrapped up. But, hey! I managed to meet my own deadline, so... take that, overly-hectic week.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fluff! Comments are always welcome!