A/N: Just an idea I've had for a while. Rated G, with nothing bad included. Zuko goes through the trauma of his wife's hormone-filled pregnancy. Reviews are warmly welcomed and constructive criticism is encouraged.

Zuko groaned loudly into his hands as the sound of the small bell tinkled loudly. Just two more months… only two more months left until she's due to deliver. I'm the Firelord. I can make it until then.

More tinkling.

Choking down a whimper, he walked hurriedly toward his pregnant wife, wondering what else in the world she could possible want. She had been given everything he could offer her and more! Only two more months. Any more of this and he just might crack.

The tinkling continued.

He walked faster, eager for that terrible sound to stop ringing in his ears.

Opening her door with deliberate tenderness, he peaked inside and whispered, "Do you need something, dear?"

Katara propped herself up on her elbows, looking expectant and irritable. Her stomach bulged with her 7-month-old fetus, and she had her overly large nightclothes on.

"I'm not dying, you know," she snapped. "You don't need to whisper as though I'm on my deathbed. I'm only pregnant – with your child, I might add. You ought to step up and start acting more like a man!"

More like a man…? Zuko's brain was slow to process this sentence. When it did, it took a moment of deep breathing and remembering how much he loved his wife to keep his temper under control. Only a real man would tend to her every wish and whim, and face her raging hormones with such pride. Only a real man can ignore the mood swings she has every other minute. If I'm not a real man, I don't know who is!

"Zuko!" She shrieked. He looked up sharply from his reverie and grimaced lightly. "Did you hear a word I just said?"

"I, er… of course, my love." He put on his warmest smile for her, but it faded quickly.

"Then what did I say?" Her eyes were narrowed dangerously and he gulped.

"That, er… I'm not a man and… that I…" he trailed off for a moment, trapped in those eyes that were wordlessly beautiful and always prepared to strike with a deadly poison. "I need to, ah… act like one."

She raised an eyebrow and stared at him expectantly before growling softly. He shifted and glanced at the corridor behind him. What else did she want from him?

"And then?"

His eyes widened. I didn't hear anything after that bit… oh, spirits, this can't end well.

Katara watched him in anticipation for only a few moments further before bursting into tears. Alarmed, he rushed over to his sobbing wife, gathering her up in his arms and bringing her head to his chest. She snuggled closer before pushing him away angrily.

She bended her tears to smack him back into a wall, much to his surprise. "You… don't… love me – anymore," she said miserably through her tears.

"Oh, sweetheart, you know that's not true!" Forcing himself up, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tensed in preparation for any possible blows. "If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be suffering for you right now."

When she looked up with renewed flare, he said hurriedly, "What I mean is that when your heart breaks, so does mine."

She sniffled, smiled, and kissed his cheek tenderly. He nuzzled the top of her head before nibbling at her ear. Stroking her enlarged stomach, he murmured, "We're going to make such a wonderful new life." She sighed contentedly and nodded happily against his neck.

Pulling away quite suddenly, Katara frowned and looked him firmly in the eye.

"You never answered my question."