"Bro! Over here!"
Bolin's familiar voice carried across the tavern to Korra's sensitive ears, and she jerked her face in the direction from which it came. She pulled her pack further up on her arm and started to make her way through the throng of people milling around the floor between her and her small group of friends waiting for her in their usual corner booth at the pub. She gave a merry smile and a tiny wave to the four people seated in the booth, three of her favorite people, and then Wu.
Wu, Mako's new boyfriend, was slightly annoying.
"Hey, how was this evening's class?" Her roommate, Opal Beifong, asked her sweetly as she slid into the booth next to her. Opal was Bolin's long time girlfriend, a sight to see with her short dark hair and tanned skin, with sparkling green eyes. Korra had wanted to get to know her back when they'd first met, but Bolin's puppy eyes broke her heart and she pushed her wants aside so Bolin could try his hand at romance with her. Four years later, Korra was really glad she had. They were perfect together, and Opal was the best roomie a bachelor could ask for.
"Long," Korra groaned back, letting her eyes scan the crowded room for an available server to order her tumbler of whiskey. "I swear, if I had to listen to Tenzin say 'focus' and 'breathing' one more time, I was going to shit a turtle-duck."
"Whoa, you signed up for the course, Korra," Mako reminded her from Bolin's other side in the semi-circle seat. "What else did you think you were going to get out of a yoga class?"
"I was drunk as fuck when he talked me into it," Korra argued, leaning forward against the table towards the smirking cop. "I'd only stopped back at the gym to pick up my house keys that I'd left, you know that: you drove me over there after Beifong called you to get me before I was found by another cop that wasn't either of you."
Her father's good friend Tenzin was a spiritualist that had the holdings of a gym as well as his center for spiritual healing. Korra used the workout equipment and the sparring ring regularly, and that day was no different. She hadn't noticed her house key falling out of her bag on her way out that day, however, and had hobbled back in the dark after almost an entire bottle of vodka later that night. A cop passing by was arresting her for public drunk when the Chief called him on his personal phone and suggested nicely that he take the cuffs back off and pass Korra over to Detective Mako. And by "suggested nicely", Korra meant she could hear every word Lin Beifong screamed at that poor rookie that night.
"Poor Jenkins," Mako said sadly, shaking his head at the name of the rookie from that night. "The guy had no idea his first beat would include death by Beifong."
"You work tonight, right?" Bolin asked to bring the subject back around to the present. He bounced his thick eyebrows at Korra teasingly, then tipped back the bottle of Yuengling's in his hand.
Korra didn't look at him as she replied, finally having caught the eye of the Fire Nation girl serving the tables closest to them. "Yeah, it's Friday night. Who else would be there? Billy? Kareem? Ha. Gunther wouldn't dare have another lead cook on the grill tonight, I'm the best he has. Those other guys are just my man servants."
"For Spirits' sake, Korra, I've already put your order in," the server sighed jokingly to Korra as she drew near. "Nate is a little overwhelmed, but I ordered a double because I figured you work tonight."
"Alaya, you're a woman after my own heart," Korra praised her, blowing a kiss to the young girl as she whisked away again to answer a drunken bellow from four tables away.
"I don't know if it's sad that she has you so pegged, or really impressive that she knows her regulars so well," Opal chuckled with a slight shake of her head, watching Alaya bustle about.
"Probably a bit of both," Korra answered with her trademark grin, tucking a lock of her short dark hair behind her ear with a copper-skinned hand. "I'd fuck the hell out of her, honestly. Not sure she's ready for a ride on the Korra Express, though. Might give her a complex that anyone else after me is a terrible lay. She's too young for me to ruin."
"Uh oh," Mako intoned with an exaggerated roll of his amber eyes. "Clear some room on the table; Korra's ego just arrived."
Korra reached for a napkin in the holder in the middle of the round table, crumbled it into a ball and flung it at one of her oldest friends, but he deflected it with a hand as he laughed with her. The jokes about her ego were a long standing section to the totem that built their friendship, just as essential as their mutual love for athletics and really bad martial arts films. You know, the type with the horrible voice-overs and ridiculous fighting noises. Mako was her first friend when she came to Republic City twelve years before, having moved from her home in the Southern Water Tribe when her father was named ambassador and transferred to serve in the Assembly in the city.
"Twenty-six, going on fourteen," Opal mumbled fondly, looking back and forth between Korra and Mako. "You're both ridiculous."
"We are a young twenty-six, fuck you very much," Korra responded immediately, perking up in her seat when she saw Alaya making her way back to the table with a tall tumbler with golden whiskey coloring it. "Alaya, when are you finally going to agree to run away and marry me?"
A light pink dusted the girl's pale skin, and she laughed at Korra's question as she placed the glass onto the table. "The day that I wake up and realize that all I've ever wanted in life was a woman that can cook fifty plates of food in less than half an hour and could most likely bench press me. You know, one that can drink a bottle of whiskey in ten seconds flat, and strip your damn clothes off with a single smile, I guess."
Korra lifted her ass up off the bench seat and dug in the back right pocket of her cargo shorts for her wallet. She fished a twenty out of it and handed it to Alaya with the most flirtatious grin she could muster, winking at the girl when she took it. "Sounds like tomorrow morning is going to be interesting," she told her, and Alaya rolled her golden eyes at Korra's persistence. "Keep the change, beautiful."
"Good night, Korra," Alaya answered pointedly, bowing away. "See you after my shift when I come in for my usual."
"Double patty melt, steak fries, and two pickles!" Korra called after her retreating figure, then looked back at her friends. "Totally meant to be, right?"
"Totally," Mako agreed, nodding his head as he slid his arm around an unusually quiet Wu. "Should really start planning the wedding."
"You can be our flower girl!" Korra squealed in mock happiness, clasping her fingers together and pulling them to her chest.
"The day Korra gets married, is the day I transform into a blooming azalea bush," Opal muttered, making Bolin chuckle.
"Then you'll have to be the flower girl," he pointed out, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from his girlfriend and a laugh from Korra, Mako, and Wu.
"Better a flower girl than a sound guy for Dark Star Adult Films," Opal shot back, making Bolin flush with embarrassment and glance around for anyone that might have heard his shame.
"It's an internship," he mumbled to himself consolingly, but Korra reached over to pat him on the arm.
"It's okay, buddy," she said supportively. "I'm still jealous that you get to watch women go at each other every day."
Opal scowled deeply, and Bolin started to sweat. "I d-don't really watch," he defended himself for the thousandth time. "I'm too busy holding a boom mic, looking at my shoes and blushing to watch the artists."
"Artists," Opal scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "If that's what you want to call them."
"He gets to work with Jamie Chilling," Wu said longingly, the first words he'd uttered since Korra arrived ten minutes before. "I'm not even really into chicks, and I'd let her ream me."
"Who the fuck is that?" Opal and Korra asked in unison, slightly giggling at each other for the timing.
Mako gave a huge sigh, a dopey grin coming onto his face. "She's the best in the industry, that's who she is. No one has ever seen her face; she wears a rubber mask in all of her scenes and appearances. Completely obscures her features. But she has a banging body, and she specializes in strap porn. She's never the bottom; I read that it's in her contract that no one touches her without her personal approval, and she has final say about the scenes she does."
Leave it to Mako to be a walking porn encyclopedia. Korra covered her grin with her hand before he got defensive.
"She's really nice," Bolin said quietly, turning his bottle in his hands. "She's robed when she isn't in a scene, so it's easier to have small talk with her than other actresses. She was very supportive my first day on set, knew that I was a noob the moment I walked in."
"I'll just bet she's nice," Opal said acidly, her jealousy getting the better of her.
"She's a lesbian, Opal," Bolin sighed helplessly. He put his bottle on the table and looked at his girlfriend, reaching to pull one of her hands into his own, giving it a light squeeze. "And it doesn't matter. She hasn't got anything on what I come home to every day."
"Have you ever seen her face, Bolin?" Wu asked interestedly, ignoring the fact that the thread of conversation might end up with Bolin sleeping on the couch for a week.
But Bolin shook his head. "No. No one has, not even Varrick. Jamie Chilling isn't her real name, I know that much. Chilling is a Water Tribe name, and she's pale like a Fire Nation native. But her eyes are a really pretty green color, so I'd say she has Earth Kingdom blood, too. Like us, Mako."
"You know, you being so complimentary about a porn star isn't helping your case about working with Varrick on this particular business venture," Opal said loudly, making Korra flinch at the way Bolin seemed to shrink into himself.
"She's a person, too, Ope," he said softly, and Opal deflated a bit. "And Varrick helps me out. You know that."
"Yeah," she sighed, shaking her head at herself. "You're right, I'm sorry."
Korra took this moment of quiet reflection to down her tumbler in one go, licking her lips once she was done. "As much as I'd love to continue this conversation about hot masked lesbians wearing strap on cocks, I have to report to the battlefield otherwise known as the kitchen at Kincaid's. I'll see you guys later."
"Do you need a ride back to the West Side in the morning? I have the beat around Kincaid's first half of my shift tomorrow. I could get you home quicker than the 674," Mako offered as Korra stood up and pulled the straps of her pack over her shoulders.
"Nah, I'm off tomorrow night for Dad's birthday, so I'm taking the 345 to the North Side after work. I have to go, it's some big to-do for his fiftieth. You couldn't take me that far in the cruiser or you'd give Beifong a stroke."
Mako waved an indifferent hand. "Chief likes you, as much as it kills her. And it would still be quicker than the bus."
"Aunt Lin isn't as hard as everyone makes her out to be," Opal put in, stirring her Republic City Iced Tea. "She just does her job… a little too well, sometimes. She even arrested my mother when she was a teenager. Being sisters didn't even break Aunt Lin."
"Glad you take after your mom," Bolin laughed, leaning over to kiss Opal on the cheek.
"Keep slinging those sweet words, Bolin," Opal told him in a light tone with a tiny amused grin. "Every compliment can be one minute less that you sleep on the sofa when you stay over tonight."
Korra smiled and shook her head at them. They really were perfect together, and were Korra's personal relationship goal. If she could find a girl that made her twinkle the way Opal did Bo, then she would have no problem giving up her freedom. But thus far, none had come close to what Korra wanted in a life partner. By this point in her life, she figured that she was too picky, and that woman didn't exist. But she was okay with that, she had her flings and her casual dating, and came home to a beautiful –though a little… no, a lot furry– girl every morning, anyway.
It was five blocks from Break the Seal to Kincaid's, and Korra took the walk leisurely, hands in her pockets, whistling the theme song from some sitcom that Bolin made her watch on Netflix. The streets were bathed in a golden light from overarching bulbs above her, with flashes of white lights from the cars passing down Colquitt Avenue beside her. As always, she found herself looking up at the night sky, and being disappointed in the lack of stars scattered there. The dome of light from the city obscured them into barely visible pinpricks in the yellow glow of thousands of street lights like the ones she currently strolled beneath.
It had rained for a few hours that afternoon, and the gutters beside the sidewalk were still full of water, making puddles that Korra was careful to circumvent as she made her way towards work. So far the cars passing had been too far to touch the standing water, and she hadn't had to dodge anything. But the ever growing sound of a revved motorcycle engine had her stop and turn around slowly, getting a face full of dirty street puddle when she did. It drenched her entire front, slopping down into her shoes and soaking her socks, as well.
"You motherfucker!" she yelled at the rider, who kept going as if nothing had happened, taillight disappearing around the corner a half block away. She looked down at her ruined clothes and clicked her tongue in dismay. "Son of a bitch," she muttered angrily, kicking excess gutter slime from her shoes. "Well, there goes my good night. Fucking prick."
It was nearing ten by the time she made it to the diner, the glass windows revealing the packed house inside. Korra gave a sigh, and slowly made her way towards the front door, her feet squelching in her sneakers with every step she took. She luckily had the clothes she wore to the gym in her bag; even if they smelled a little sweaty, they were still drier than the ones she had intended to wear through her shift.
The dining room was only half packed, but the tables that were seated were large parties, and her six server floor was in full swing. They danced between tables, well practiced and all smiles for the public. Tenzin's youngest daughter worked the late shift with Korra, and was the bubbliest server anyone could ask for. Someone having a rotten day could come in and be seated in Ikki's section, and leave with a genuine smile despite themselves. The teen was currently bobbing around with a tray, serving a family of five with a big grin on her face as she talked with the kids.
"Korra!"
The sound of her name came from the window between the front and back of house, and she could see Gunther's grinning face peering out from under his ridiculous cook's hat he wore. She found herself thanking the spirits that he didn't force his staff into head gear like that. Most of them just wore a ball cap instead, Korra wearing hers backwards just like every other hat to touch her head since she was little. She gave a wave of her hand to Gunther and pointed towards the bathroom. He gave her a thumbs up, and she went on to change before she clocked in.
Business went on as usual, with only a small comment from Ikki when she passed her in the kitchen early on. "You smell like Dad," she said with her nose wrinkled. "You didn't change before your shift?"
"Yeah, I did. But some asshole on a crotch rocket decided I needed another shower on my walk here. My feet are still soaked."
"Poor baby," Ikki simpered jokingly. "Stuck in wet shoes for the next seven hours."
"Don't you have babies to kiss for tips or something?" She reached around Ikki to give a stir to the noodles boiling on the stove behind the girl. "Go on, get out of my kitchen."
"What if your girl comes in tonight? The one you're so terrified to talk to?"
Korra rolled her eyes. Ikki was talking about Asami Sato, the daughter of the owner of Future Industries and one of the richest men in the world, Hiroshi Sato. She'd met them both at some gala or another she'd attended with her parents some years back, an awkward societal scene that Korra had only wanted to run from. Even as barely more than children, Asami had been the most beautiful girl she had ever seen, with long raven hair and stunning eyes circled with the longest lashes. She was from another world that Korra didn't quite fit, so the interaction had been polite, but brief. Asami was a regular at Kincaid's on Saturday mornings, and it was an ongoing joke amongst the staff that she was Korra's one and only. She hadn't even had to say anything; they all read it on her face when the woman entered the door around three in the morning that first time. But Korra never spoke to her. She doubted the heiress even remembered her.
"Sometimes even I know when someone is out of my league," Korra sighed to Ikki now. "She's one of them."
"Hear, hear!" Another cook, Billy, shouted from the back sink, having heard everything they said. "You're good, but you're not Sato good!" He laughed at his own statement, something of quirk he had.
"Quit yapping your flap and get those chili pots washed," Korra called back, unaffected with his joking.
"You sell yourself short," Ikki shot back to Korra's original statement, ignoring Billy as was her custom. He was so obnoxious that even Ikki wouldn't acknowledge him. "I bet you could get a date, even if it's just one. You know she's into girls, remember that scandal a few years back when she was caught with the Fire Lord's daughter?"
"Yeah," Korra said dryly, flipping a few chicken breasts on the grill. "I remember how her father came out and said it was all lies, telling the world how unnatural he sees such things."
"Well, he's an asshat," Ikki said hotly, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Ikki," Korra said conversationally, turning her spatula around in her hand.
"Yeah?"
"Get out of my kitchen."
Ikki stalked away with her lip poked out but she gave Korra a middle finger as she went out of the swinging door. The older girl just chuckled to herself and went about making plates for table seven. She was left alone to her work and her music through her earbuds for a few hours, only interrupted when calling for pick ups. But as expected, right around the end of her shift, Ikki appeared at her side again without Korra calling her to pick up her order.
The shorter girl tugged on Korra's apron, since the shirt she'd changed into was a sleeveless tank top, and Korra looked over her shoulder, pulling her earbuds free to hear. "What is it, Ikki?"
"That waitress from the bar wants her usual, she's really drunk and wants you to serve her instead of Ginger."
Korra gave a snort of amusement, immediately pulling two burgers free of the fridge and tossing them onto the flat top. "I can't blame her. That attitude is something else."
"So, you'll bring it out?"
Korra gave a nod. "Yeah, I'll bring it out. Tell Ginger the tip is hers if Alaya leaves one."
Alaya was indeed drunk. Korra had her plate done in ten minutes, and brought it out to the table as promised. The girl was with a few others that Korra recognized from Break the Seal, and their plates were on the tray Korra carried, as well. Alaya's head was down on the table as Korra approached, but one of the guys sitting across from her leaned over and gave the girl a poke in the arm. She sat up and saw Korra approaching, and a dopey grin lit up her face.
"Korra!" she slurred, waving a hand at the cook as she placed the tray on the table between them all.
Before Korra could greet her back, she heard Ikki's voice carry over from the far side of the room, near the door. "Hey, Asami!"
Korra shot a nervous look over her shoulder to see Sato making her way in, the usual briefcase tucked beneath her arm. The heiress was giving Ikki a smile that made Korra's knees weak, all white teeth and crimson lips. "Hello, Ikki!" she called back with a friendly wave.
A hand running up her forearm brought Korra's face back around to the table in front of her, to Alaya's golden eyes in particular. She was stroking up her arm to her bicep, and she gave the muscle a squeeze once she arrived there. There was a familiar look in her eyes, one that Korra had seen on numerous women's faces when they saw her arms for the first time. It would usually make Korra flex and preen, but she found herself all too aware of Asami Sato sitting down two tables away; the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself.
"Wow," Alaya breathed, eyes drifting back to Korra's face. "Your baggy shirts hide a lot, huh?" Now her gaze had lowered to Korra's cleavage peeking out beneath the tank top.
Korra gave a nervous laugh, fighting the urge to look to see if Asami could hear anything that was being said between them. She was uncomfortable flirting with someone right in front of her, though she had no idea why. "Yeah, guess so," she chuckled back half-heartedly.
"Aw, what's wrong, Korra? Six hours ago you were proposing marriage; now I compliment your gorgeous arms and you're a blushing mess?"
Korra nearly keeled over on the spot. "I–uh, you know. Been a long night. Some dipshit splashed me with his bike earlier tonight, so I had to change back into my gym clothes. Been pretty steady since I got here, too, and we're short a cook tonight because he's sick, so I'm just kinda burnt out." She gestured to the plate of hot food on the table. "But I made your food perfectly. Enjoy. I'll see you around, Alaya."
"Morning comes quickly, Korra," Alaya reminded her of their exchange earlier in the bar. She paused and gave Korra a wink. "But I don't."
Korra's face got impossibly hot, and she choked on a breath of air. "I'll keep that in mind," she said hastily over the laughter from Alaya's coworkers. She bustled away from the table so quickly then that she busted her hip on the corner of another table as she passed, hearing a yelp from the occupant.
She flipped around with an apology on her lips, but the words froze in her throat when her eyes fell on the open-mouthed face of perfection itself. Asami was as frozen as Korra, staring at each other as black coffee dripped down the front of Asami's expensive white blouse. Wide-eyed and mouth opening and closing like a fish, Korra fought to find the words she'd lost, unable to suck in a breath, much less speak.
"We're so sorry," Ikki cut in, dashing over to rescue Korra. She took her by the elbow and steered the dumbstruck cook towards the kitchen, giving Asami the most apologetic look she could muster. "I'll be right back to clean this up. I'm so sorry, Asami."
Once she'd pushed Korra back through the swinging door, the Water Tribe native found her oxygen again, pulling in a deep breath through her nose. Ikki was standing there with her hands on her hips, eyebrows pulled down into the frown that her mouth wore. "Really, Korra?" she demanded flatly, pointing a finger at the door. "What the heck was that?"
"Comp her meal," Korra said, ignoring the question. She turned around and headed back towards the line, pulling tickets as she went. She was back in her element, in control again. "Ask her how much her shirt was worth. I'll pay her back. And tell her I'm sorry."
"Why couldn't you do that? Just now, when you were standing there with your jaw on the floor, drooling everywhere right in front of everyone?" The teasing tone was back, and the little hairs on the back of Korra's neck stood up when she heard it. Ikki was dangerous in this sort of mood. She'd threatened to tell Asami before that Korra had a crush, but had not made true on it, yet.
"Ikki, please. Don't make this more painful for me."
The younger girl rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, turning and leaving back to the dining room without another word, as if Korra were hopeless. Korra shook her head, immediately setting to making Asami's sandwich, egg white on lightly toasted rye, dry. She was another that never deviated from her usual breakfast. After Ikki had retrieved the sandwich from her a few minutes later, Korra snuck a peek out of the window at the woman that caused her to be speechless mess. She was writing something, head bent with the curtain of her dark hair obscuring her face, hand moving smoothly across the pad. Her sandwich sat to the side, a few bites taken. A fresh cup of coffee was beside it. As Korra watched, Asami suddenly looked up. Their eyes met again, and Korra reflexively ducked out of sight, her heart beating slightly faster than normal.
Glancing at the clock on the wall above the swinging door, she sighed deeply. It was less than an hour before she was supposed to be off, and she hadn't started any of her side work. "Well, at least I know what to do to stay away from the window," she muttered to herself.
She was pulling meats from the walk-in cooler to restock the refrigerators for first shift about thirty minutes later when Ikki popped up again, a shit-eating grin on her face. She held out a folded piece of paper to Korra with a smugness that made her curious. "What's this?" she asked Ikki, taking the paper from her and unfolding it.
"A note from Asami," Ikki said a little too casually, telling Korra right away that Ikki had read whatever was written. "Please allow me to take a moment to say that I told you so."
"You are so nosy," Korra sighed, reading what Asami had written. She wondered if this was what she was writing when she was caught staring.
Hey, don't worry about the shirt. It was karma, apparently, since I was the "dipshit" that splashed you with my bike earlier. I was in a hurry, late for an appointment, and couldn't stop to apologize. So sorry for that. Thank you for the free sandwich. You should let me take you for a spin to make up for your soggy night.
Haha, just caught you looking. Call me, please?
P.S. You do have nice arms. I wonder what your stomach looks like?
There was a phone number penned beneath the message, and Korra felt her breath hitch in her throat. Asami wanted her to call her. Wanted to take her on a ride on her motorcycle. Asami thought she had nice arms! She wanted to see her stomach? Done. Who cares she got hit with a mud puddle? The thought of any scenario where Asami was looking at her stomach gave Korra the kind of shivers that made up for any sort of dirt shower.
Dirt shower… dirty shower. With Asami. Spirits, fuck, that's hot.
Images flashed through Korra's head that were definitely NSFW, pictures so vivid in her mind's theater that she could nearly taste the rivulets of water from a shower head on Asami's slender neck.
"Speechless again, I see. I hope you get that worked out before you call her," Ikki snickered, thankfully mistaking Korra's silence for shock.
That pulled Korra out of it. She gave a shrug and stuffed the paper in her front pocket, the naughty thoughts to the back of her mind, then resumed her meat count. "Who said I was going to call?" she asked rhetorically, but Ikki gave a snort of laughter.
"Yeah, right, you've only been crushing on her for forever. Here's your chance, Korra. Be the leaf, flow with the wind."
"Okay, Tenzin," Korra said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the phrase Ikki's father was so prone to saying.
"Laugh if you will, it's still good advice," Ikki called out as she left Korra alone to finish up.
"Yeah, yeah," Korra mumbled noncommittally. "We'll see."
But for all her bravado for Ikki, that note was really heavy in her pocket.