Haircut

Zuko groaned and sat up as Katara stood in front of him, holding up the pair of scissors she had made out of ice and grinning evilly.

"Come on Katara!" he complained as he edged away from his girlfriend, "My hair is fine!" he protested, plopping back to his previous lying position.

She rolled her eyes at him and placed a hand on her hip, a smile playing on her lips, "Come on Zu-Zu," she teased, "Your hair's a nest!"

He shot her a half smile half glare, "Leave me alone woman!" he joked.

She sighed, shaking her head, "Come on, just a trim," she urged.

"I don't see you trying to cut Aang's or Sokka's hair!" he retorted.

She rolled her eyes again, "Aang is a monk Zuko, he's bald. And Sokka keeps his hair in a ponytail, so it's not messy like yours!"

Zuko sighed, he really didn't want to do this, "Please Tara?" he begged, purposely using the nickname he gave her.

Her resolve weakened and she placed the scissors down, turning it back into a puddle of water before sitting next to him.

"What's wrong Zuko? You always hate it when I cut your hair but it's grown so long now you can barely see your face," she asked gently, taking his hand and rubbing it soothingly.

He sighed, placing his free arm over his eyes, "That's the point," he mumbled, "I don't anyone to see my face, to see my scar."

She gasped at that, "Zuko," she breathed, her voice laced with sympathy, "Oh Zuko, your scar is nothing to be ashamed of," she said firmly, making him sit up and look at her wearily.

She placed a hand on her boyfriend's cheek, purposefully letting her fingers brush against the burnt skin, "It tells a story, it shows how you were brave and noble enough to stand up for what you believed was right. You tried to prevent all those innocent soldiers from being killed, Zuko, you tried to defend them. It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said and kissed his scar tenderly.

His heart warmed at that, this was what he loved about Katara, she always knew how to make him feel better and find his way when he was lost, she saw him for who he was, even when he couldn't.

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, "Thanks Tara," he whispered, causing her to blush.

"Anytime," she said with a bright smile.

He smiled back before something occurred to him, "Why do you want me to cut my hair?" he asked suspiciously, "It's not that bad," which was true, his hair had always been very manageable and fell in straight locks. Sure it could get a bit unruly when strands started to stick out, but it was actually really neat, his hair was just thick.

She blushed an even deeper red and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "No reason," she denied.

"Come on, I told you my reason," he smirked, knowing he had hit a point.

She scowled at him and refused to meet his gaze. She mumbled something intelligible and he gave her a pointed look to which she scowled at again and repeated herself, this time louder.

"I couldn't see your eyes properly," she murmured, obviously embarrassed.

He blinked, shocked at her answer, "Why does that have to do with anything?" he asked incredulously.

She grimaced, "I could always tell what you were thinking by your eyes, they gave away everything you tried to hide and it made me feel secure that you didn't hide anything from me and I didn't hide anything from you. When your eyes got blocked out it just didn't feel right," se shrugged.

Zuko smiled gently and squeezed her hand reassuringly, "You know I would never hide anything from you."

"I know! It's not that I don't trust you!" she stuttered and fumbled with the words before sighing, "Yeah, I'm hopeless," she groaned and flopped onto the ground.

He laughed at that and laid next to her, their intertwined hands between them, "You're not hopeless Tara. I think it's sweet."

She chortled at that, "I cannot believe you said something so cliché, I can't believe I said something so cliché," she groaned.

Zuko smiled at turned to her and she turned to him and smiled back. Then, as quick as lighting, Katara sat up and bent water around Zuko's hands and legs, forcing him into a sitting position. She then froze the water, holding him in place.

"Katara!" he complained and struggled against the ice.

She just smiled innocently, "Yes Zu-Zu?"

He groaned and threw his head back, "I hate you," he sighed with no real anger in his words. What a softie he'd become because of her.

She grinned impishly and shaped another pair of scissors and began trimming his hair.

He still made a fuss about the whole cutting hair thing but secretly he wasn't so worried about it anymore. Katara was right. The scar wasn't a mark of shame; it was a mark of honor and courage.

So, as she showed him the end product with his hair considerably shorter and his eyes finally showing but still having the length he desired he'd kissed her passionately as a thanks. Because, scar or not, he knew Katara accepted him for who he was and didn't expect him to be anyone else. And, for the first time in a long, long time, the Fire Lord smiled and held his head up high.