A/N: This is so entirely different from everything I have ever written that it stands as a strange testament the unpredictability of the common muse. Please excuse the copious amounts of fluff. I've never even written fluff before. God knows I've never written romance.

Anyway. You know how it goes: you get frozen for a hundred years, you travel around the world, single-handedly dismantle the most powerful and devastating nation on the planet, and then all you can think about is winning over the pretty girl. Any means necessary.

She had tried for so long to think of him as a friend, first and foremost; as the Avatar second. As an afterthought she sometimes considered him a potential lover, almost on a whim, though the tensing of her jaw and the tremble of her stomach at the simple notion of touching him, kissing him, hugging him that way betrayed a deeper sort of want. She had tried for so long to suppress it, because, really, there was a time and a place for that sort of thing and despite her almost complete lack of experience with boys, she knew that war was not the place for flirting or for dating.

But circumstances changed after the war had been won. They kissed. And just when she was beginning to think that maybe she could try this, that maybe she could start the process of really courting him, slow and steady – he was on his knees, asking her to marry him. And he was holding out an ill-formed lump of rock to prove it.

"It's a betrothal necklace," he corrected, his eyes wide and frightened, "I made it out of jade, or I think I did, but I guess that the bending must have warped the color or something; it was red when I bought it."

"You bought it?"

"The jade. I bought the jade."

She peered curiously down at him, shocked beyond measure, if not a bit amused. Her hand had wandered idly to rest upon the pendant of her mother's necklace; she stroked its smooth surface as she tried to process his request.

"You made me a betrothal necklace."

"Yeah." He blinked rapidly, unmoving. "So we could be betrothed."

"We aren't even dating."

"No. Let's get married."

"You're twelve. You aren't old enough to get married."

"But you are."

She eyed him, trying to imagine where he was coming from and finding herself increasingly bewildered; neither of them were old enough to be married. Even if they were, she thought that probably there was a process that led up to marriage; that he couldn't just ask her out of the blue and expect to tie the knot that easily.

She creased her brow and her hand closed loosely around her mother's necklace. "Aang, this getting married thing, it's something we both have to do. That means you have to be old enough to do it, too."

"I know that!"

"Sixteen is marrying age."

"I know."

"Not twelve. Not fourteen. Sixteen."

"I know!" he straightened a bit, that one outstretched arm falling down to hang upon his knee; fingers curling around the necklace. He pursed his lips and she could sense his frustration as it rolled off of him in waves. "I know that, I know all of that! It's just-" he looked to his right, then to his left, bunched his shoulders and shrugged at the ground, "It's just that the war is over now and there aren't any more excuses!"

She thought to mention the matter of their ages again, but he cut her off, looking her squarely in the eyes. "I know we're too young to get married, Katara, but I just don't want to lose you now."

Her confusion and shock slowly began to fade into empathy. Shoulders going slack, she took a breath and calmly steadied herself. "Of course you're not going to lose me, Aang. Why would you even think that?"

"It's just…you get to go home, now; you and Sokka. You don't have to stay with me anymore. There's no reason to stay. I just don't want to lose you, and I thought, if we were betrothed to be married, there would be a reason…"

"Oh, Aang," she breathed, and knelt to meet his eyes. She put a hand on his shoulder and felt the muscles tight beneath his skin; the dark red surface of the jade necklace glinted from between his pale fingers. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I can't speak for Sokka or for anyone else, but there are plenty of reasons for me to stay. You're my friend." She felt a sudden pang of guilt as he looked dejectedly down at his feet, and hurriedly amended her statement: "You're more than just a friend, Aang. I care about you. I promise that I'm not going anywhere without you."

He smiled wearily, not meeting her eyes, and nodded. She pulled him into a hug; as he readily accepted the gesture she allowed herself to briefly entertain the thought of taking that necklace and wearing it, feeling its cool surface against the hollow of her throat and knowing that he had made it just for her. She blushed. The necklace in his hand was pressing softly against the small of her back.

When it was time to pull away, he looked her in the eyes.

"I love you, Katara."

Her heart leaped. Of course, she knew this part, and she smiled warmly back at him, still nervous and very aware of the fact that they were so young and it felt like she had known him for a lifetime.

He glanced down at his hand, uncurling it to peek at the pendant on his palm.

"So," he said, "what should I–?"

She quickly put her hand around his and closed it up again.

"Let's worry about that later."

A/N: An apple a day keeps the doctor away, but a review for every reader makes all your dreams come true.

No fibbin'.

- Cricket