A/N This work of fiction was inspired by motoko and MTFY, talented fan artists at .com. There are artworks associated with all three chapters linked in my profile. It is recommended that you read each chapter before following the appropriate link.

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Steam curled up from the large bathtub, creating ghostly patterns in the small room. Jet balanced himself on the edge, testing the water with a sweep of his hand. The ripples doubled back on themselves, reflecting off the tub's current occupant.

"Perfect." He flicked the spray off his fingers at Zuko's quiet form, already steeping in the tub. There was no response from the laconic Fire Lord.

Jet stripped with an economy of motion and settled in to the water with a happy sigh. "I guess there's one advantage to being a firebender."

"Brat," murmured Zuko drowsily.

"Hmm. Is that all there action I get? Might have to get more aggressive." Zuko could feel the water move as Jet closed in on him. He stopped a hair's breath away.

Feather light, Jet passed his hands down the length of the firm body beneath him. He made a second pass, firmer, fingers searching. Zuko gasped as a callused hand wrapped around the half erect base of him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Zuko opened one eye to see Jet admiring his find.

"If I have to explain it to you then we've got problems,"Zuko spat out from gritted teeth. Jet grinned wickedly as he stroked Zuko into full hardness. He thrust hard into the hand, bringing his body to the water's surface.

Jet laughed. "So impatient! " He adjusted his hold on Zuko, one hand keeping Zuko afloat.

"Sometimes." Kiss just below the navel. "You've got to savor." Kiss on a pale thigh "The small things." Kiss on the other.

Scrape of light stubble across his hip bone got Zuko bucking again. "Who are you calling sm… ah.. small?"

He felt hands vanish and murmured a protest. There was no response. He worked his hips at empty air and whined in frustration.

A loud knock at the door. Zuko snapped his head up with a loud snort. He looked around wildly, splashing water as he did so. Disoriented, he tried to figure out what was happening.

Alone. He was alone.

He let out a long, slow sigh. Another dream.

A muffled voice could be heard through the door with a second hesitant knock. His valet. "Is everything all right my lord? You've been in there quite some time."

He tried to let his head fall back to rest on the lip of the tub but winced, stiff and sore in more ways than one. With a pruney hand, he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm fine." His voice creaked. He cleared his throat. "Thank you.

"Do you need anything, my lord?"

"No."

/Arching up, he wrapped his legs around the other man's waist, desperate to feel as much skin as possible/

He groaned softly, feeling his arousal twitch. He tried to quiet the thrum of blood in his ears. "Nothing I can't take care of myself."

He automatically reheated the cool water, trying to loosen the kink in his neck. Stupid, he berated himself. He hadn't realized how tired he had been when he started his bath.

It would have been an ignominious end to Fire Lord Zuko's reign. Found dead, drowned in his bath with a hardon that would have lasted through his state funeral.

He lightly stroked himself, remembering. Even in dreams Jet was a smug bastard.

Though Jet hadn't really been the same when Zuko had found him.

He had watched Jet kneel to the ground as soon as the airship touched down, as he picked up a handful of soil.

"I need to go." Zuko had solemnly nodded at Jet's words, pretending to not want to rage and rail against them instead. "I need to know what's real, rebuild myself from the ground up." Jet let the loose dirt sift between his fingers.

"I need to find my destiny." That Zuko could understand.

Jet had grabbed him in front of the guardsmen and crew and kissed him. He had responded in kind, not caring who watched.

Since then: nothing. It had been three months and nineteen days since their return to the capitol, three months and nineteen days since the man disappeared.

There had been no sightings of him. His scouts had been ordered to keep an eye out for the man, so far without success.

He hoped Jet found what he needed.

Running a light hand over his midsection, he replayed the dream in his mind's eye. When he finally reached release, it was aching, bittersweet.

-----

Zuko's jaw worked in frustration, trying to school his features to passivity. "Are you absolutely sure Lieutenant?"

Nervousness oozed out the lieutenant's every pore. "Sir! Yes sir! I, mean, my lord! My squadron tracked the men back to a campsite just outside the capitol. Clearly earthbending activity! Sir! My lord!"

Damn it. Dai Liagents here?

It would have been naïve to think that their enemies would simply roll over and take their defeat. He hadn't expected them to rally so soon.

Zuko frowned in thought, scanning the scroll in his hands. Something was missing. His heartbeat quickened. "And about.... the other matter?"

"My lord, sir! No reports of a man matching the description you provided."

It ached, even with the months gone by. "Thank you, lieutenant." The scout master beat an awkward retreat, grateful for the dismissal.

Zuko tossed his writing brush to the desk in frustration. Too much to think about.

Dai Li trying to infiltrate the Fire Nation. No way to arrest them without real proof. No way to close their borders without putting the other nations on edge.

And what would their intent be? Free his sister? She was housed nowhere near the capitol.

He had to be a target. And at the worst possible time.

The Fire Days festival opening ceremonies were fast approaching. An opportunity to show the Fire Nation celebrating in peace. Thousands would descend on the capitol to hear his words of welcome. Some eager, some curious. Some friend, some foe.

All eyes would be on him. All hidden behind masks.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing could be simple, could it?

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Hundreds of Aangs and Kataras filled the square before him. It was a little disconcerting, particularly the masks bearing his likeness; scar now on the correct side.

There was a special performances to packed houses of the hastily revised version of "The Boy in the Iceburg" in the large open air theater. He didn't have the heart to ban the show, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Rumors of the presence of the Dai Li did not seem to have kept the throngs away.

The play had everyone dressing like the Avatar and his friends. There were a lot of Sokkas and Tophs. Even those that weren't featured heavily in the show had their fans. He had almost inhaled his fire flakes when he had spotted a few Jets. He had been shocked at first, but clearly they were pale imitations of the original.

He was particularly bemused that even the Blue Spirit was popular. New stories of his alter ego's exploits were being told, turning the Spirit into a protector of the weak, a righter of wrongs. Hopefully it wasn't just thieves using the disguise to rob the rich, as he had once done. The people seemed to take comfort in it and he saw no reason to let them know about the Blue Spirit's inauspicious origins.

His security detail was furious when he refused to follow their recommendations to not appear at the festival. He couldn't be seen hiding behind their skirts. No. His enemies needed to know that he was unafraid no matter where he was.

It was time. Public speaking was something he was never going to enjoy and having a giant target on his back made matters worse. He nervously stepped up to the dais in the center of the square to begin the opening ceremonies. He took heart at the crowd's roar of delight.

He could still hear it, through the noise. There. The unmistakable sound of rock tearing itself from rock.

He crouched to ready himself, assessing which direction the attack wascoming from.

A black clad figure jumped into the path of the incoming rocks. It was a man wearing the mask of the Blue Spirit, shattering stones with blurs of steel.

Twin hook swords. Here? Now? Can't be. Unthinking, he stumbled closer to the swordsman. Another missile whizzed past his head without notice.

From within the crowd, a very masculine Katara raised a flaming fist in the air and yelled "They're trying to hurt the Fire Lord! Get 'em!" The crowd surged forward, shoving his own security detail to the side to get to his attackers.

Pandemonium. The swarm of bodies, bursts of flame, and flying rock everywhere.

In the mayhem, he lost sight of the masked man wielding the hook swords when a particularly hairy Aang jostled him from behind. Hairy Aang muttered a terse "Sorry!" then re-entered the fray, raining blows with the rest of the crowd on one unlucky earthbender.

He felt an arm go around his waist, tossing him to the ground on his rear.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" The familiar blue mask loomed over him, the familiar voice furious. The Blue Spirit mask slipped slightly. Jet tore it from his hooded face, anger barely held in check.

Zuko couldn't help but smile. Jet's hard expression softened.

Zuko held out his hand to let Jet haul him up to his feet. The two squared off, back to back, ready to face anything.

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"Ow." Jet sat up gingerly, cradling the bandages around his torso. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."

"Keep still, you baby," ordered Zuko, a tray of food in one hand, trying to shove Jet back with the other.

Jet evaded, stealing a rice bowl off of the tray, devouring it quickly. "This new type of dressing is really itchy," he complained, scratching at his side with his elbow, clearly not itchy enough to stop eating.

"Learn to duck next time and it won't be a problem." He set the tray down on the dresser by the bed.

"Yeah, well I was too distracted saving your scrawny ass," said Jet mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

"Sounds like you're feeling better," Zuko noted, grumpily. Stop it! He chided himself. Stop ruining what little time you probably have left.

He passed his hand over his face to clear his thoughts and froze when he saw Jet's hand making a final sweep of the nearly empty bowl. Couldn't blink as the messy fingers moved to their owner's mouth.

Stop staring. He had to look away as Jet added a smirk to the act of loudly sucking his fingers clean. "Much better, thanks."

Zuko turned his back, directing his attention to the tray he had brought in hopes of hiding the flush that crept up his cheeks. With forced nonchalance he asked, "So, what are you going to do once you've recovered?" His mind unhelpfully added Leave again? He pretended to fuss with the tea set he had brought with him to avoid looking too concerned.

"I'm not sure."

Zuko frowned at this response, trying to count the tiny flowers painted on the saucer's rim in an effort to stay calm.

"I think I've found someone."

Frown twisted into a deep scowl. The teacup in his hand came to a rolling boil. He dropped the cup with a curse, sticking his finger in his mouth to tend to the small burns caused by the scalding water.

"Or I guess I should say 'something'."

He was no longer listening, his heart heavy. Why did I think my luck was going to change?

There was a tug at his sleeve. He let himself be pulled in close, seating himself next to Jet on the cool sheets.

Jet spoke softly. "You know I couldn't stay.

He refused to meet Jet's eyes, knowing if he did he would come undone.

"But I think I've found it. What I need to become." Jet winced in discomfort as he shifted position on the bed. "I wandered from village to village at first. The war is supposed to be over but… there was always something. Someone would always be there to prey on the poor or the weak. The specifics were different but the problems were the same. People still need someone to help them."

Zuko held still as he felt Jet begin to idly stroke Zuko's thigh with his thumb.

"I didn't think people would accept help from some fugitive from the Earth Kingdom. I needed some other way to get people to trust me. There were these stories. Stories of a bandit who dressed up as a spirit. People already trusted him. So I decided to become him."

Zuko blinked rapidly, struggling to believe what he was hearing.

"I don't know why. It just seemed right somehow. It made me feel real again. I finally feel like I'm making a diff…"

He trailed off, noticing Zuko's face. He scooted closer to the suddenly beet red Zuko. "Are you ok?"

"You mean…" Zuko took a big gulp of air and tried again. "You became the Blue Spirit?" He gasped. "I thought that was just.." he let out a small hiccup. "a disguise for the festival!"

He was shaking with effort, trying to control himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jet's face light up. "You've heard of the Blue Spirit?"

Nothing could be simple, could it?

Laughter exploded out of him, his relief sending a pulse of heat through the room.

His laughter ended in a cry of surprise as Jet spun him around, settling Zuko into a straddle over the injured man's hips.

"It's good to hear you laugh." The husky note in Jet's voice made a shiver go up his spine. A tan hand crept up, releasing the silk ties of Zuko's robe, exposing pale skin and a well muscled thigh.

He could feel Jet shift underneath him. "You shouldn't be…" He lost track of his admonition when he felt a warm tongue trace a path up his chest.

Jet broke off to look up at him with a devilish twinkle in his eye. Zuko squirmed under the scrutiny.

He didn't want to imagine how he must look. Flushed, disheveled, open.

A callused hand reached up and tenderly cupped Zuko's neck. Just tell him. "It's good to have you back."

Jet's face clouded over for a moment with Zuko's words. A look of realization chased the clouds away and he broke into a contented smile. "Yes. I think I really am back."

-end-