Zuko patted his pockets, checked for his badge, the warrant, extra ammunition. Handcuffs. He checked his gun, tested its heft, made sure it sat comfortably in his hands. He checked his holster, made sure it was securely attached, but that it would allow for free access to his firearm. He ran over the checklist in his mind again, for the fourth time, decided that he hadn't forgotten anything. Closing his eyes for a brief moment to gather his thoughts and his wits, Zuko leaned back against the seat as the vehicle jostled along the road toward the airport. Only so much was in his power to change; beyond that, he would have to hope that Aang wouldn't be stupid. So much could be avoided if Aang came quietly with them, even if he kept that stupid smug smile. If he would come with them, things could be settled in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Look alive," Iroh said from behind the steering wheel. "We're here."

There was no chance of Aang behaving rationally. He was a wild animal, caught between a cliff and a pack of vicious hunters. He would react as all cornered animals reacted—he would fight with everything he had for his freedom. He would not let them corner him. And so, they had to be prepared.

Iroh was the first out of the car, slamming the door behind him as the breeze picked up the ends of his coat and pulled it away from his body. Zuko followed, Xin Fu bringing up the rear. Zuko kept his coat unbuttoned, understanding the reasoning, even in the face of the bitter Chicago wind. They needed free range of movement, and that outer garment would be dumped if it hampered him too much.

The three men marched toward the doors of the airport, nodding to men in suits hidden plainly among the throngs of people arriving and departing. Zuko catalogued the people he saw, looked for exits, tried to mark potential threats. Put his wife's face out of his mind.

"We're going to Gate Seven, right?" Iroh asked, looking around and clearly a little confused.

Xin Fu took the lead, having done more travelling by plane than either Iroh or Zuko, marching confidently through the building, the crowd parting for what was clearly an important group of people. When they saw badges on belts and guns under arms, people began whispering fearfully, pulling their children closer, and wisely looking for the exits. Behind them, unmarked agents fell into step. They were focusing on one target this time, and the firepower was there, ready to back them up when things went wrong. There was no doubt in Zuko's mind that things would go wrong.

Gate Seven was too busy; there was no way people weren't going to get hurt, and Zuko swallowed that nervous lump. His palms were dry and his hands were steady, but that didn't mean he wasn't shaking in his core. Wild animals were unpredictable.

"We should try to clear the gate," Zuko said, leaning towards Iroh.

"It would tip him off to something being wrong."

"But we know he's going to shoot."

Iroh nodded slowly, scratching at his beard, amber eyes sweeping the gate, looking for that signature blue tie.

"And what about the Bei Fong?" Xin Fu asked. "She could become a victim in all this."

"We're taking her in for questioning, too," Zuko said.

"Oh? So we decided on that, then?"

"Just now." Zuko shrugged.

Everything On Ji said led him to believe that Toph Bei Fong knew more about Aang's affairs than his wife. They were in the same business, after all, and woman or no, Toph was a formidable businesswoman and an often intimidating to meet in person. Aang had been wise in choosing his crime partner. She might be tough to crack, but when they did break her, there was no doubt that she would spill forth more information than they could ever imagine.

"There!"

Iroh's words put them on alert as Aang and Toph rounded the corner. They were walking together, her holding onto his arm, both with matching smiles that held more than a sinister gleam to them. Iroh motioned to the agents stationed nearby to be on alert as he stepped into their path, already reaching for his badge.

"I'm Police Inspector Iroh," he said, flashing his badge and speaking in a low tone. "We need to talk to you concerning your father."

"There's nothing wrong with my father," Aang said forcefully. "He's just fine."

"Except that we can't seem to find him."

"Maybe you haven't looked hard enough," Toph suggested, her sweet smile and soft tone openly mocking Iroh.

Zuko clenched his fist, reminding himself that his uncle knew exactly what he was doing, that he would only making things worse by rushing in and slapping the cuffs on them. He hated their infuriating looks, the way the secret was plain on their faces. Iroh was laughing as if they'd made a funny joke.

"That's a good one," Iroh said, his smile growing wider as Toph frowned. "Then you'll help us look for him."

"It's not your business," Aang said harshly, moving to sidestep Iroh.

But Iroh stepped with him. "It becomes my business when someone starts forging his signature, and he hasn't been heard from in upwards of a year."

This stopped Aang, and Xin Fu and Zuko moved into position, flanking Iroh. More people were slowing now as they watched the spectacle. Toph was frowning, her grip on Aang's arm loosening as she took a step back, but there would be no escape for her; agents were coming from behind, closing the gap. Toph turned her head slightly, and Zuko wondered if she was aware of the agents' presence, if her other senses were heightened to compensate for her blindness. When she stepped back, though, she'd pulled Aang's jacket, and the butt of his gun was briefly exposed. Tense, Zuko nudged Xin Fu, nodding in Aang's direction, his hand moving toward his own pocket.

This didn't go unnoticed by Aang, and he stepped back, putting distance between himself and the officers in front of him.

"If you've got some charges, state them."

"No one's charging anyone," Iroh said, palms up in a gesture of goodwill. "We merely want to talk. As you're his closest relative, we're going to speak with you about Gyatso."

Aang continued to back up, and Xin Fu motioned for the agents behind them to reveal themselves. All possible exits were blocked.

"Let's not do this here," Zuko said, keeping his eye on the gun. "There are too many families."

"And what about my family?" Aang asked harshly, his face twisted into a mask of pure anger. "What would you do? Spit on us, that's what you'd do. You have no respect—"

"I've got enough of it to know not to make my problems someone else's problems," Zuko shot back.

"If you'll follow us, we have a few questions," Xin Fu said, stepping to the side and gesturing forward. "Both of you."

"What?"

Toph recoiled from them, bumping into a disguised agent who grabbed her shoulders. Toph grunted and slammed her elbow into the agent's middle, and this gave Aang the opening he needed to try to get away. Taking advantage of the surprise, Aang rammed his shoulder into Zuko, knocking him aside and sprinting for the exit.

"Catch him!" Iroh yelled to all present, giving chase.

Aang tore through the crowded airport, knocking aside people in his desperate attempt to flee, squeezing between crowds too stunned to move, and shoving aside others without discrimination in his haste. Zuko stayed behind to help with Toph as Xin Fu and Iroh followed Aang. Toph was putting up a fight, the agent who'd grabbed her getting the worse end of the deal. Zuko joined the fray with two other agents, reaching out for Toph's arm only to have her swing wildly at him, the punch nearly connecting before shots rang out and people started screaming and running. While everyone was occupied, turned in the direction of the shots, Zuko slapped his handcuffs on Toph, barely sparing a second thought as he shoved her roughly into the other agent and ran after his partners.

He knew he should be thinking about the safety of the bystanders, but the only thought on Zuko's mind was whether or not his uncle had been shot. He couldn't help thinking of Jun and what she would say, and the children, and whether they should be able to see their uncle in the hospital, because Zuko would not—would not—let his mind stray to other, more grim possibilities. Hand on gun, he ran past the people cowering on the floor as more shots thundered through the building, and people screamed and children cried, and Zuko's heart beat loudly in his ears, threatening to drown out the rest of the world.

More shots. More screams. Zuko could see them just ahead, Aang firing indiscriminately into the crowd. Iroh was unharmed, returning fire from behind a pillar. One of Xin Fu's federal agents was on the ground, the older man dragging his comrade to safety. Zuko tried to assess the situation as quickly as possible, ducking behind a row of seats as bullets flew past. He was too far away to communicate with either Iroh or Xin Fu, and several of the other agents were trying to corral people to safety or, hopefully, calling for backup.

Katara asked him not to be stupid, and Zuko liked to think he was being brave rather than stupid.

"You are making things so much harder than they need to be, Aang!" Zuko yelled, peering around the seats.

"Sorry, detective," Aang said, laughing. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you."

Everyone was huddled on the ground, a low hum of whimpers keeping the airport from being entirely silent. Zuko scanned the area, saw that Iroh was slowly moving to circle Aang.

"You're only inconveniencing yourself," Zuko called out, hoping to keep Aang's attention. "We weren't intending to charge you with anything. Now we'll have to."

Aang laughed again, deep in his throat, his grip loosening on his gun momentarily. Terrified by this sound, a woman screamed as she stood, intending to flee the scene. She barely took three steps before Aang's hand tightened on his weapon and fired two shots, hitting the woman expertly. Two bullets in the back of her head. She fell forward with a dull thud. For several beats, no one moved, not even Aang, though he wasn't stricken with the horror that gripped everyone else.

"Let it rest on your heads," Aang called out to the agents. "I'll keep blowing through them, one by one, until I get what I want."

"You haven't even named any demands," Xin Fu said.

Aang turned slightly to face this voice, and Zuko didn't hesitate to creep forward. He tried to catch Iroh's eye, to let him know what he was about to do, but Iroh was too engrossed in his own plan, watching Aang, studying the tension. The only way to keep more people from being shot and dying would be to take Aang out. There could be no doubt of that. Again, Zuko crept forward, hoping that Xin Fu could keep him engaged as long as possible. Zuko knelt and steadied his gun, aiming for Aang's leg. It would only take a single shot, distract Aang's mind with the pain of his wound, and he'd likely drop his gun. Even seasoned officers and soldiers would drop their guns. Aang was neither. He was soft. He was pampered. He needed to drop that gun.

Zuko was putting pressure on the trigger when someone behind him screamed. A child no longer held down by their parents sprung to their feet, and Aang turned, his attention drawn by the sound, and life was drawn out in the seconds as Aang raised his gun, and Zuko put the last of the pressure on that trigger not even a full second before Aang mirrored his actions. The rapport of the guns sounded one right after the other, so close that the sounds mingled, indistinguishable, and as soon as he'd steadied his arm from the kickback of the first shot, Zuko fired again, was preparing for the third shot when he felt hot pain rip through his side. The world flashed white and he could only faintly hear that child screaming and crying, and he bit down hard, grit his teeth through that pain to fire his third shot. He was sweating, his heart beating so fast as he tried not to focus his mind on the grander scheme. That second knife of pain barreled into his shoulder, but Aang was already being tackled to the ground and Zuko fell over backward.

He was aware of commotion, but he was also aware of the pain. More aware of the pain than of the commotion.

.O.

His whole body was humming and thrumming with pain. He groaned as he rolled from side to side, and a gentle hand stroked his cheek.

"Shhh," Katara said as she kissed his forehead. "Stop thrashing, Zuko. You'll tear out your stitches."

Slowly, Zuko opened one eye, just to be sure that he actually wanted to see the world around him. Katara's blue eyes were looking at him, and there was hardly a better sight that Zuko wanted to see. He opened his other eye to better look at his wife and smiled when she looked relieved.

"You didn't think I'd die, did you?"

Katara tutted. "The way you were carrying on, I thought you just might."

Zuko tried to sit up, but before he could move much, Katara gently pushed him back down.

"Cut that out," she quietly admonished. "Do me a favor and act like an injured person."

Zuko chuckled, thinking it quite improbable to be in such a good mood after having been shot twice.

"I know you'll ask," Katara said, stroking his hair, "so I'll just go ahead and tell you. Aang is currently in police custody, as is Toph Bei Fong. Aang will be taken to court on charges of murder, and attempted murder. Uncle is unharmed, and Jun is currently giving him an earful. Your mother is with the children. They're…they're scared, but they know you're alright. You'll be fine. I know you will."

This last was said with a tremor in her voice, and Zuko pulled Katara down to him with his uninjured arm, and he hugged her as close as his injuries would allow. She took deep, shuddering breaths, but she did not cry, and Zuko admired her strength. Had things been reversed, he would be bawling and making a huge scene. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks, and when she looked up at him, he kissed her lips, knowing nothing ever was sweeter.

"They say you saved a child's life."

"Aang wasn't aiming for that child."

"All the same…"

Hanging unspoken in the air was that Zuko was playing into Katara's fears. It wasn't so long ago that he'd confessed the true nature of his work to her, and she'd broken down, saying she was afraid of that phone call. The one that would inform her of her husband's death. And she'd very nearly gotten that call. Zuko was glad that Katara didn't say anything; nothing needed to be said about that. They were both already aware of that.

"Now," Katara said, pulling away and checking Zuko's bandages. "The doctors have given me a list of things you are to avoid doing—"

"Katara, come on—"

"Don't take that tone with me!" Her fists went to her hips, and Zuko shrank back appropriately. "And you won't be returning to work for at least a month, either."

"A month?"

Forgetting his injuries, Zuko very nearly sat up. The pain that blasted through his side reminded him that a month was a very generous estimate. Katara gave him a knowing look as he fell back against his pillows, the pain renewed at even this soft gesture. Perspiration beaded his brow, and there was knocking at the door.

Ursa entered then, her eyes red and puffy, and she practically threw herself on top of Zuko to see him so contorted in pain. Iroh entered behind her and pried her off Zuko, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

"She was even more scared and I was," Katara whispered. "I don't think I've ever seen her so worried."

When she'd quieted a bit, Ursa returned to Zuko, her embrace this time far gentler than the last. She kissed his face, gently touched his wounds, her words just barely coherent, apologizing over and over again.

"I wished so much," she said, "that you'd just shoot him and be done with it. I wished so much that you would just walk up to them all and just kill them without mercy, and I…I just…" Ursa paused, composing herself and her thoughts. "In my ambition and desire, I forgot that you are mortal, just as they are. We are none of us gods."

Iroh placed a hand on her shoulder. "We all forget that from time to time. Your heart is always in the right place, Ursa. We were not the only ones who needed a reminder of that."

.O.

"Is that news from Uncle?" Katara asked, setting a cup of coffee next to Zuko.

She bent over him to kiss him softly as the Parisian breeze blew through the window of their hotel suite. It was crisp and cleansing and entirely welcome. In the next room, the children were playing, Ira bossing her brothers around and instructing them in a game of her creation. Katara smiled in their direction, chuckling as she no doubt heard more than a bit of herself in her daughter's tone. Zuko smiled, too, before returning to the letter.

"It is," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. It was better than what they usually had in the United States. "He says preparations for the trial are going extremely well. Aang is having a hard time fixing the trial in his favor. Too many people were there and saw him…do what he did."

Katara didn't like it when Zuko enumerated Aang's crimes, and so he'd taken to only alluding to them. Not that it was too big of a bother for him to do it. This was, after all, their vacation. Iroh had suggested leaving before the trial got underway, and before anyone realized he was even in the room, the doctor was wholeheartedly agreeing, practically demanding that Zuko take that trip to Paris. For his health, the doctor said. Zuko suspected the real reason was to remove the temptation of returning to work so soon.

"Well," Katara said as she slid into the seat closest to her husband, "it's good that he'll get a fair trial rather than one he's rigged."

Zuko snorted. "There's no way he could rig this one. There's not enough money in the world for Aang to convince a judge to throw away his career. Let alone buy off a whole jury."

"Throw away his career?"

Katara smoothed down Zuko's shirt, then dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Rolling his eyes, Zuko batted her hand away. She was determined to baby him, no matter how much he said he was fine, or that he'd be able to do things for himself. For a while, Zuko tried to pretend that he'd just have his own personal servant, but the magic wore off when Katara refused to play dress up. She'd scolded him and told him that he should be focused on recovering, and that she didn't want to have to explain to the doctor just how his stitches got torn. It was very little consolation to know that she said the whole thing with a deep blush on her cheeks.

Zuko leaned back in his chair. "Well, think about it. If a judge was to pronounce Aang innocent, everyone would know that he'd been paid off. The evidence, the eyewitnesses, it all just overwhelmingly points to his guilt. To associate with a corrupt judge might bring unwanted scrutiny to those who're trying to keep their underhanded dealings secret. Thus, no job for the crooked judge."

"I see," Katara said, twisting a strand of her hair thoughtfully. "And the same with the jury? Everyone would know they accepted a bribe and they could get in trouble, too."

"Exactly."

"He really dug himself a hole, this time, didn't he?" Katara asked with a slight smile.

When Katara stood, Zuko pulled her into his lap and wrapped his good arm around her. She didn't resist, instead leaning back into his embrace. She ran her hands through his hair, peaceful and content, curling into him as much as possible without aggravating his wounds. The children were still making much noise as they played, Khan now having taken over instruction of some nonsensical game. For once, there were very few worries on Zuko's mind, and he allowed himself to relax just as much as his wife.

After all, isn't that what vacations were about? Relaxing?

No, the work wouldn't be over; Zuko was aware that they had only scratched the surface of everything that was wrong and needed fixing. He was aware that they would not be able to fix everything. But it was a start. Some things could be mended and patched, and Zuko would work just as hard to mend and patch those things as he'd worked to catch Aang.

For now, though, Zuko would breathe the fresh Parisian air and listen to his children play as his wife cuddled with him.

It invigorated him and gave him the strength to fight the next battle in the war.

And, well...that brings this to an end :( The rhythm in this chapter, I feel, is slightly off, and for the life of me I can't fix it. Which really sucks, because this is the final chapter. And this is one of those stories where there's no neat wrapping at the end. It can't be, because the mob can't be completely erased. Well...not yet. Eventually, it mutates into Chicago street gangs, but that's neither here nor there. At least not for this story. Part of the reason this chapter took so long was because I didn't want to write Zuko getting shot by Aang. That's a very sad occurrence, and made even more sad because, in this universe, Aang has no remorse. Oddly enough, in Blackbird, he'd be very much like Ozai in prison-not sitting in the Naughty Chair and thinking on his wrongs. He'd be planning like the kingpin he is.

Anyway, lets go back to the beginning and remember that this story was done as a thank you to AnnaAza for being my first 100th review. I didn't think I'd be getting that many reviews, and lo and behold! Here I am! Anyway, now I've got something else to thank her for: this was a really enjoyable ride, and I hope you all enjoyed it with me. You guys are absolutely amazing, and reading your reviews makes me happy. So, happy new years to you all! Hope you enjoyed!