Yay, a present-fic that I got up before the holiday! So, Merry Christmas, everyone!

I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Suki, Sokka, Toph, Aang, Appa, and anything else recognizable belong to Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom!

Enjoy!

Everything was so serene, so still, so silver. The world was a delicate dessert, frozen and sugarcoated with a full moon cherry immersed in a star-sprinkled sky. Mere hours earlier, the earth was a canvas of brown, barren of foliage and prepared for the rough onslaught of the northern Earth Kingdom winter. Now, blankets of snow were tucked snuggly around tree trunks; icicles formed along stiff branches like rows of teeth; every surface covered in snow caught the moon's brilliant light and painted the world metallic white.

And dear spirits, it was cold.

Toph hated the cold, especially then as she laid awake on one of Appa's paws. Her fingers were numb, her nose was running, and she could barely feel her ears anymore. Her perception was skewed, and a strange fog coiled in her mind, slightly blurring her internal vision. She shook her head, attempting to burrow further into Appa's shaggy fur.

The giant beast, unaffected by the brisk night, grumbled, gave a monstrous yawn that reverberated though his entire body, and stood up to find a comfier position.

"Appa!" a variety of tired voices chorused in a collective groan. Five warriors were suddenly sprawled across the frozen ground after being dumped by their makeshift mattress.

"Stupid bison," Sokka muttered, sitting upright. Wonder fought exhaustion on his friends' faces as they took in their sparkling surroundings. One by one, they staggered to their feet and rummaged around for their jackets. Excitement and exhilaration soon overruled the need for sleep.

Zuko glanced around, ocher eyes landing on Aang's peacefully sleeping form atop Appa's back where he had been spared from being dumped face-first into the snow. "I think," he muttered slowly, "that it would be unfair to let him sleep and miss the snow." He rolled a mound of snow between his hands and lobbed it into the air just so that it plopped directly on the monk's bald head seconds later.

Aang shot awake with a yelp of surprise, clutching at his face. Muffled laughter drifted up to him, and he took a second to process what was going on around him. Snow! "Hey, guys!" he said cheerfully while sneakily gathering the snow that was thrown at him. A moment later, Aang hurled the snowball down, hitting Sokka's shoulder. Laughing, the airbender slid down his bison's tail and was met with a fistful of snow shoved down the neck of his shirt.

As retaliation, another snowball was hurled at Sokka. However, the Water Tribe boy dodged and the ball hit Suki instead, who then hit Zuko, who hit Toph, who hit Katara. War was on then, snow flying from every direction, each person taking the offensive. Faux war cries and screeches shattered the midnight silence, especially when Sokka found a dead rat-weasel, rolled it up into a snowball, and threw it at his sister. ("I hate you so much!" she screamed, but even then she was laughing.)

A good half hour and one too many snowballs to the face later, Sokka surrendered. Everyone else soon followed suit, partly because they were tiring of the game, but mostly because a snowball fight without Sokka is like a sandwich without bread: it's just not right.

Aang immediately flopped into the snow, sweeping his arms and legs rapidly. When he finished, he floated up off the ground and grinned, admiring his snow angel. Suki, Sokka, and Toph worked on rolling huge mounds of snow for a snowman, and Katara dug around under the powder to find rocks for the snowman's facial features.

The snow games were entirely new to Zuko. Growing up in the Fire Nation, which was renowned for its dry heat, there was never anything even remotely similar to the wintry festivities everyone else was obviously accustomed to. He looked at the angel that Aang had made in the snow before walking a short distance away to an undisturbed part of the woods. Deeming the virgin snow acceptable, he fell gracelessly on to his back and slowly began to mimic Aang's movements.

The only problem arose, however, when the angel was complete and Zuko had to stand up. Aang easily airbent himself up off the ground, but the power to control the elements was of no help to the firebender. The only way to stand was by sitting up and putting a hand to the ground.

When he was back on his feet, Zuko turned to look at his snow creation. Aang's was flawless; his had a handprint in the middle of the right wing. Always the perfectionist, he tried again, with the same results, and once more, trying every combination of movements he could think of.

Katara saw him making his angels out of the corner of her eye while scavenging for the perfect pinecone nose for the snowman her friends were meticulously constructing. She abandoned her search and headed toward him, the fresh snow muffling her footsteps. A small army of imperfect seraphs greeted her as she drew near.

He was just starting his next snow creature as she approached him, and she stood at his feet with a smile playing her mouth. "Your angel can't fly if his wing is damaged," she commented, offering her hand down to him.

"Thanks," Zuko said simply. He stared down at the unmarred indent in the snow and smiled. "I can't help but wonder," he started, turning around to face Katara again, but stopped short when he saw her lying in the snow with her fingers reaching skyward, waiting patiently for him to pull her up. He laughed and hauled her up, walked a few steps, then fell over again.

The cycle repeated for several minutes, and dozens of angels-half of them tall and broad-shouldered and the other half short and petite-lined up across the clearing. The next time Katara loomed over Zuko, she lost her grip on his warm hand and ended up sliding backwards several feet. "Angels can't be perfect all the time," he conceded as he left a handprint in the newest addition.

He stood and was about to take a step to help her up from where she had fallen, but the sudden, breathless cry of "Stop!" halted him immediately. Questioning eyes locked with glimmering ones in an odd interaction.

"Don't. Move," she whispered. "Don't you dare move."

"Okay, okay!" He made a show of standing still, his arms stiff and legs rigid.

"Good," she murmured to herself. Katara regained her footing in the snow and made a deliberate circle around the firebender. "Close your eyes," she ordered.

Zuko knew better than to question her and obeyed, golden eyes fluttering shut. "No peeking!" she reminded, as if she were a child who was playing a game of hide-and-seek and he was the seeker.

"No peeking," he promised dutifully. She waved a hand in front of his face, just to be sure he wasn't looking, and took three steps away from him so she was facing him directly.

Utter silence, then a sharp intake of breath as Katara manipulated snow to her liking. She took a moment to admire her work before softly telling the prince that he could open his eyes again.

First thing he saw was her, her hands suspended in the air with her palms up like she was holding a book. She grinned and turned her hands-palms up, palms down, palms up-several times, and that was when he felt the slightest pressure between his shoulder blades. Zuko turned his head carefully (he was still under the impression that he wasn't allowed to move) and when he did, he saw something that was so ridiculous and intangible that it had to be real.

Incandescent wings of powder-each one longer than he was tall-extended to either side of him. They were frosted and incredibly detailed and enormous; it was hard to believe the waterbender manifested them in just a few short seconds. Katara turned her hands a few more times, and Zuko could only watch, speechless, as she flexed the wings around him.

"Where you're standing," she explained, "is exactly where the moon is. It looks like you have a halo." Indeed it did, he agreed, when he cast his gaze to the stars. She had turned him into an angel.

She moved forward, bringing her hands closer to her body as she got closer to him. "Also, there is an angel that's perfect all the time." Tendrils of frozen hair fell into her face, and since her hands were occupied, warm hands tucked those stray strands back behind her ears.

And then the angel was kissing her-slow, gentle, angel kisses-and she was kissing him right back. Katara tried to keep his wings fluttering but abandoned her efforts, letting the snow fall in a heavy cascade at his back.

So warm. If she could stay right there for everyday of forever, she wouldn't mind. So soft. The thought was alien in her mind, a strange thought that spiraled down from the crown of her head all the way to her toes, leaving a trail of excited electricity in its wake. So perfect. However, she couldn't bring herself to care about anything but that moment. After all, she was kissing an angel.

~Fin~

I seemed to really enjoy using alliterations in this, though I didn't plan that. It just kind of…happened. -shrug-

Dead rat rolled up into a snowball? True story. I was sledding with my brother and my best friend around midnight, my brother found a dead rat, made it into a ratball, and decided to throw it at me while I was going down the hill. I've been planning revenge.

Did you enjoy my comparing Sokka indirectly to bread? xD I sure did.

I listened to "Your Guardian Angel" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus whilst writing this. The song has nothing to do with the fic, but I still love the song. xD

Review, please?
Happy holidays, Zutarians!
-Erika-
xoxo