Commander Suki of the Kyoshi Warriors huffed in frustration, letting her fingers drum an irritated tattoo on the hilt of her (ceremonially tied into its sheath, for the peace of mind of the diplomats, as if the thing that made it dangerous wasn't the fact that it was her holding it) sword. As little as an hour ago, she would have remembered to care about everything Zuko's aides had warned her about, and not made such a warlike gesture, but by now? Now she was just shy of actively hoping that someone would take offence at her. Or rather, that one of the dozens of people in the room that were obviously taking offence at her would grow the backbone to try and do something about it.

But, for now, there was nothing to do but try not to scowl, and do her best to ignore the ushers announcing all those guests that had decided to arrive fashionably late.

At least the buffet was acceptable. Someone had even gone to the effort of importing real stewed Kyoshi plums, and watching unsuspecting guests try and eat them had been the real highlight of the evening so far. The sight of puffed-up third-rate dignitaries suddenly choking and trying to find a polite way of coughing up everything they had ever eaten was probably going to get old eventually, but so far she was experiencing a vicious stab of national pride every time it happened.

She'd almost certainly been away too long, she reflected, if she was getting patriotic about fruits.

The embassy glowed. Flaming torches flanked the steps, the snow swept back, lurking at the edges, flakes hissing into nothing as they fell too close to the fires. Sokka could have sworn he recognised a couple of the guards as he and Mai swept past them. He valiantly resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at them.

Mai stared blankly ahead as they passed the doorway, into the warm dull glow of the interior. As they were gently ushered towards a large door, outside which a servant waited, placidly, she leant almost imperceptibly towards him.

"You armed?" she murmured, the rasping edge of her voice setting his chest rumbling in sympathetic shocks.

"Knife tied to my inside thigh," he replied. "Why?"

Mai ignored his question, and regarded him coolly. "Kind of inaccessible in an emergency."

He shrugged. "Not really. You'd be surprised how quick I can get my pants off."

Mai appeared to give this due consideration.

"Hmm," she replied, her voice coming from somewhere far away. "I'll bear that in mind."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

She probably shouldn't have said that. If there was a good time for spontaneous faux-insincere comments about casual sex, 'just as he's about to have to go confront his ex' was almost certainly not one of them. But he didn't seem to have picked up on it, so she supposed she'd gotten away with it.

At the time, she'd just assumed Zuko was abnormally bad at picking up on cues, but now she was starting to wonder if it was something to do with her.

The announcer waiting at the door had taken notice, and bustled towards them. As he bore down on them, she saw Sokka draw himself up and set his jaw, torchlight flashing in his eyes and this was not the time.

Also, she should probably do something, like gently remind Sokka that this wasn't actually a fortress that needed storming, no matter how the line of his jaw turned to diamond when he was considering how best to raze this place to the ground.

She stepped forward, in a way that, she hoped, eloquently conveyed 'my companion here's a little skittish, maybe you don't want to rush at him like that.' Fortunately, the man stopped short, and his eyes widened, dropping into a bow.

"My Lady Mai!" He declared, doing an al,oust passable imitation of someone who was delighted to see her. "You do us too much honour with your presence." Straightening up, the man glanced askance at Sokka, and his confidence visibly wobbled for a second. "And- ah… how shall I introduce your companion?"

Sokka looked to Mai for clarification.

"He's got to announce you," she explained. "You know, yelling at the whole party about who you are and why anyone should care?"

Sokka visibly winced. "Oh. Wait, I get a say on what I'm called?"

Mai shrugged. "Sure. Why?"

"May I announce the Governor of Goathouse Isle, Protector of the Fire Lord's Person, Colonel, First Class, the Lady Mai."

Suki's back froze, but the announcer wasn't finished.

"And, accompanying her, Sokka, Man of the Southern Water Tribes, a detective."

...She had to have misheard that. She and, judging by the sudden outbreak of whispering, everyone else in the room. They all had to have misheard that.

...a detective? What kind of game was he playing at now?

The ballroom was large, but tall mirrors lining one wall contrived to make it seem bigger even than it was. Red drapes and carpets dominated the walls and floor, and, at regular intervals, large, wide-bottomed braziers held glowing coals, giving off heavy incense-scented smoke. A table heaved with food at the far end, and, moving through the crowd of whatever Fire Nation nobility could be scraped up in this forsaken part of the world, dark-coated waiters moved with trays heavy with glasses.

Mai smiled, condescendingly. Bless their hearts, they'd really tried.

She tilted her head, and Sokka took the hint, proceeding alongside her into the centre of the room, the crowd parting in front of them like a cheap waterbending trick. It wasn't that people were avoiding them, it just so happened that everyone suddenly recognised an old friend over in a conveniently distant corner of the room that they just had to go talk to.

The whispers swirled around them- the guests probably thought they were being very discreet, but unluckily for them Mai had very good hearing.

"-Shouldn't have brought that man here, it's an insult-"

"-against everything we're trying to accomplish tonight-"

"-did you see what she's wearing? Does that mean-"

"-Almost surprised he hasn't got her collared, I mean-"

Okay whatever that last one meant (and it didn't sound like it meant what Mai would have taken it to mean, from the context) Sokka's jaw had seized up, so that might merit a response.

On the other hand, punching some ignorant new money snob in the teeth would be a really good way to get kicked out, and this whole plan would have been for nothing. So she held her temper, like always, and hoped that Sokka had the good sense to hold on to his.

She wasn't glaring, she told herself. She was observing. She would have to be an idiot to enter a conflict like this one without doing some reconnaissance.

They had to have seen her. It wasn't like she was hidden, done up in full dress uniform like this. They had to know she was there.

She was aware, in a dim way, that she was acting a little bit irrationally. But, to be frank, so what? Wasn't she allowed that? Wasn't she entitled to feel just a little furious that this was how he decided to let her know he was alive? A year and a half of nothing, just a message left with Uncle Iroh that he needed a break to clear his head, and then he just showed up?

But she wasn't glaring. Definitely.

"Who're they staring more at, you think?" Sokka murmured out of the corner of his mouth, as the two of them slunk across the floor.

It was honestly pretty much impossible to tell, given that Sokka seemed to be trying to actually hide behind her. Mai shrugged. Sokka nodded tightly, like this was a perfectly satisfactory answer.

"Seen the Ambassador yet? 'Cause it's just occurred to me that I have no idea what she looks like."

Mai's gaze swept the room, very deliberately not lingering at all on the painted and armoured figure of Commander Suki, who was glowering at them over by a brazier. Her eyes locked on the sight of a short, youngish woman with elaborate hair, before she slipped unobtrusively out of the room, through a side door.

"Got her. She's just left. I'll go after her, you camp out here. If you get the chance, corner a servant. Odds are they'll at least know who Liwei was."

"...Sure. Good luck."

There was something in his voice that almost made her change her mind, but before she could decide what to do about it he was gone.

Mai had vanished, stalking out after Ambassador Yan, which was possibly really bad news, but mostly for the fact that now Sokka was by himself.

Suki's eyes narrowed as he snagged a drink from a passing waiter, and turned his back on the room, facing at the wall.

If there was ever a time to go over and say hi, this was almost certainly it. But her feet didn't want to cooperate.

The drink burned the back of his throat and his nostrils flared wildly, eyes stinging. Gently, he set his cup down, and stared at it, the way it sat, condensation dripping on the long red tablecloth, ice bobbing gently in the clear liquid. He tried to remember what Aang had talked about when he went on about breathing. In through the the mouth, out through the… no, that wasn't it, was it?

Around him, figures swarmed, dull red and indistinct, and the chatter swelled to a roar echoing in his ears.

If the ambassador was surprised to see Mai lurking in the hallway, she didn't show it.

"Lady Mai," she said, moving into a textbook bow. "I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I am that you have decided to grace us with your presence."

"Hm," Mai replied.

"I hope everything is to your satisfaction," the ambassador replied. "If you want for anything at all while you are staying in this city, do let me know. It is, after all, my duty to assist my fellow citizens."

Mai let a single eyebrow drift upwards. "Since you mention it…" She moved towards an empty office, and gestured for the ambassador to follow.

The smoke worried its way up his nose, thick and choking, and he screwed up his eyes, trying to block out the red, and his heart was racing and his ribs were creaking inwards and he knew he was starting to panic and that made it worse and he forced his eyes open and over the blood and wind howling in his ears he could hear heavy footfalls behind him and there was no way out no way to escape so when the enemy was almost on him he made a decision.

He turned, and swung as hard as he could.

The room froze, dozens of people stunned into silence, but Suki was already moving, slipping through the forest of frozen bodies, heading towards the centre of attention.

Sokka had just, for no immediately obvious reason, turned around and punched a guest in the face.

She almost wished she could be surprised.

Somewhere, in the back of her head, she was very, very angry right now. But that could wait.

So much for clearing his head, apparently.

He let out a breath, and uncurled his fist- when had he made a fist?- and… and he'd just punched a guy in the face.

He looked down, slowly, as the world swam back into focus, presenting him with the horribly solid image of a stunned young man sprawled on the floor, clutching at his jaw, tears glinting in his eyes, and a couple of basic points reasserted themselves.

He wasn't on the airship, he was in Omashu. He was at a party. He'd been allowed into this party. Nobody here was allowed to kill him, nobody here was trying to kill him. And he'd just punched a guy in the face for tapping him on the shoulder.

As humiliation and horror crawled up his throat, he was dimly aware of someone shouting his name. Strong hands gripped his, and, unresisting, unregistering, Sokka allowed himself to be led away.