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Steph is in the sunny loungeroom of the Cooper farmhouse, bent over a notebook. The sewing machine is set up beside her and there's a bag of rather eggplant-coloured cloth at her feet, but she's still in the planning stage, lost in her scribbles.

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"...and let you go diving for your dead sister on your own?"

Steph thwaps his ear, and then kisses it to make it better, wriggling around to sit properly in his lap and lean back against the armrest.

"What're the other parts?"

Sokka winces a little back for that, even with the kiss, and shrugs. "It's not really a 'group' activity. Or if it is, it's not with any group I wanna be associated with."

As for the other part, he shrugs again, glancing toward the hall and, conceivably toward the kitchen. "That's up to Katara and whether or not she can still waterbend."

Steph sits up to frown at him and waggle a finger. She's exaggerating for comic effect, a little, but she's also quite serious. "You are not undertaking any distasteful and dangerous and painful tasks without backup, mister."

Grinning for the comic effect, Sokka shrugs. "I didn't say no backup, I said you didn't have to come. Besides, nothing's decided yet either. I have to test a few things with Katara first."

Steph deposits a kiss neatly on the tip of his nose. "I'm still coming. You need someone to make sure you look after yourself."

It's Steph's favourite task, because it's fun making Sokka happy and relaxed.

"What stuff are you testing? Maybe I'll go to Metropolis for a couple days while you do that."

Sokka does not like the idea of Steph being present while he pulls his sister's dead body out of the bottom of a lake. However, he also recognizes that there's pretty much nothing he can do to convince Steph not to do it... right now.

Later, there may be options.

"Making sure she can waterbend, that she can leave the farm, that kind of stuff."

Steph does not think Sokka should be the one who has to pull his sister's body out of any lake, and is contemplating ways to make sure he isn't. Mostly right now her plan is 'get there first' but ...

Later, there may be options.

"Sounds safe enough." She grins, slipping down the couch so she can rest her head in his lap and lifting one hand to link her fingers with his. "Are you gonna be OK?"

Sokka blinks at her. The conversation went from playful to far-too-serious. He should fix that.

His jaw sets stubbornly. This is Steph's only warning.

...before she gets lifted and tossed over his shoulder to be carried caveman-style back to the bunker and their room. "No, actually," he admits, steadying her on his shoulder with a firm hand on her butt. "But if I receive an insane amount of Steph in the next couple of hours, I might be all right. We should get on that."

"Eeek!"

Steph attempts to compose herself and look dignified while her six-foot-tall boyfriend carries her immense five-foot-two self over his shoulder. She wriggles a little and rests her elbows on his back to tuck her chin into her hands, posing thoughtfully.

" -- Well, I suppose, if it's the only way to make sure you're OK, I'll just have to go along with this plan ..."

"It's the only choice you have, sadly," Sokka agrees mournfully - slapping her butt. "Either that or I implode. Messily. And you'll have to explain it. Im just trying to save you the grief, see."

"I wouldn't wanna have to explain your messy imploding to Mel," Steph informs him sadly -- wriggling and sliding one hand into his back pocket. "She'd be mad, and that's just no good.

"I'd rather make you explode messily ..."

The bunker door, fortunately for ghostly younger siblings and inquisitive toddlers, shuts off the sound from the kitchen.

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