A/N: I'm a sucker for these two. I mean, how cute are they?

I might do a whole series of these. Only time (and your reviews...) will tell. :)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own absolutely nothing.

"Let me touch it."

"Why?" he asked wearily, for the third time that night. "It's just my forehead. It's a tattoo."

When her hand reached out again, he meant to push it away, but didn't.

"I expected it to glow, or something. Or get hot, at least."

His head was growing hot, but for completely different reasons. Pema was reclining in his lap, drunkenly exploring how far she could push Tenzin before he either kissed her or sent her home. Her reddening lips and bright hazel eyes inclined towards the former, but his girlfriend's sharp reprieve still lingered in his mind, winged and threatening.

"If you don't want to be with me, that's fine. But don't bullshit me, Tenzin. It's insulting that you think I'm that stupid."

He recalled the ache in her voice as she said those words, the tremble of her strong fists. Standing just behind her, it would have been the perfect moment to hold her in his arms and pry the suspicions from her with gentle words – but he'd just watched her drift away to the rest of the party, dully wondering why he hadn't said anything.

And here he was a few hours later, confirming her accusations. The 'pretty girl with the pony-tail', as Lin had snidely remarked, was getting exactly what she wanted.

"You don't drink, do you Tenzin?" she asked, rolling back her bare shoulders and looking at him with wondrous curiosity.

"No, I don't, Pema."

She seemed contented at this, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Suddenly she sprang up, now at eye-level, and leaning lightly into his arm. Her bright eyes suggested an epiphany.

"And yet, you're the most interesting person I know."

He grunted, sitting back on the bench where she had come to meet him. "How so?"

"Well," she smiled. "Most people in this city don't get interesting until they've had a few. That's when they really come alive. But you're…what's the word…tee-total. And I could sit here talking to you all night."

He laughed, misunderstanding the warmth that filled him at her comment.

"Well Pema, that's because you're a little inebriated yourself. I'm no more fascinating than any one of the people here tonight.

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "No," she emphasised haltingly, "I could be sober. I could be tired and grumpy and I don't know, sick and still want to be with you."

He didn't respond to this. She lurched closer, so close that he could smell the alcohol on her warm breath.

"Tenzin."

"Yes?"

"I feel wonderful when I talk to you. But not like a little girl with butterflies in her stomach. I feel right."

He averted his gaze. The way she looked, the way she spoke, he didn't know what he might do. Shrugging from her contact, he said nothing. But the warmth spreading from his throat betrayed him.

"How often do we get to feel right in life?" she whispered.

Pema was shivering. The moon was inching into the sky as the sun faded, the wind pitching a low whistle and rustling through the trees across the island. He closed his eyes and felt past the lilting murmur of the party across the way and simply listened to the air, trying to right himself for just a moment.

"I'm expecting you to tell me I'm ridiculous or bring up Lin," her voice grew warm and passionate, "But I know what I'm feeling. This has nothing to do with the wine, so don't tell me it does."

Her heart was pounding, Tenzin knew. Her unabashed young eyes searched his silver gaze, pressing the matter firmly into his mind and into his heart. Breaking the confrontation, he looked once again into the rising moon.

He shrugged off his outer shawl. Swiftly, so as to avoid touching her marble skin, he draped it over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Tenzin." She sighed, nestling closely into it.

He wasn't sure that she was just thanking him for the shawl.

Meanwhile, Lin was slowly creeping back into his thoughts. He was sure he had heard her far-off throaty laugh just a few seconds ago. Or maybe it had been the wind taunting his weak-willed mind. Lost in thought, he jumped when Pema's arm intertwined itself with his, her head softening into his shoulder.

She then murmured three sweet little words and nodded into a doze, her soft catching breaths so mesmerising that the trained airbender could hear little else. He brought his free arm across his brow. Why wasn't he tensing at her touch? Why wasn't he pushing her away and telling her he was still with Lin? Why did he feel at peace as he had never done before?

"It's time to go, Pema." he remarked. But he did not stir. No bodily or spiritual urges told him to leave exactly where he was right then.